#me this morning: so. should I prepare myself for a natural disaster

[greaseonmymouth]

For some reason the dream I had last night was double apocalyptic: first there was a huge volcanic eruption (the kind where it exploded) far away but close enough for the shockwave to reach us and then toxic ash fall so everyone was stuck indoors (except I had to take the dogs* out for a walk eventually so they could relieve themselves and one of those dogs being a Rottweiler turned out to be a good thing bc he protecc) but a few hours later it started raining ? Which ok it washed away the ash BUT IT KEPT RAINING and I looked out the window and saw water levels rapidly rising until ground floors were entirely under water (in our house we were currently on the first floor) and it kept rising and the power cut off but I still had mobile phone reception incl 4g and the last I remember before I woke up was checking the news and seeing a map of Europe and it was all water except for a few tall mountain ranges. Like all of it was just gone and we were sitting on the floor at the highest level of our house knowing everything around us for hundreds of km in any direction was also under water

* I don’t have dogs and haven’t since I was 18

#it was only a dream so the Europe under water map was comically wrong #it was like. it followed political borders not geographical ones #brain I don’t know how to break it to you but if all of Denmark is under water THEN SO WOULD SKÅNE BE #neat cut off line along the Eastern European border and Russia. #for some reason Norway and Sweden were not under water #where in Europe was I in my dream? no clue. the view outside my window looked like tradition wooden house district of Finnish type #but I was not in Finland #I’m not sure who I was with either #family I think #but it can’t have been all of them there weren’t enough people #but I had two dogs that part was nice #me this morning: so. should I prepare myself for a natural disaster #or is this just the stress of living in the UK manifesting #you know what I’m going to do today #drink lots of hot chocolate and write some fic

[ashwithapen]

it's rainy season right now, which means that, from now until the end october, the windows will be closing the moment you open them, and the skies will try their hardest to be grey at all times, and to talk to somebody more than four feet away, you will need to yell to make up for how loud the sound of rain beating down on the roof can get. 

when i was younger, rainy season meant mischief. it encompassed summer vacation, so my sister and i would run from room to room yelling just because we could get away with it. the heavens were tumbling down, we could climb the walls and jump the sofas and not get caught.

i remember once-upon-a when it was raining and the gutter had burst, spilling its excess down to the deck and splattering so intensely. the water seeped inwards to the dinner table sitting idly beneath what should have been shelter while the housekeeper—who'd been tasked additionally with making sure we kept upright for those two summer months—called our mother and asked her what she should do. 

my sister was really little, only three or four, which made me no older than 7. i was so much of myself that afternoon. the entertainer, the joker, the one who, if not laughing the hardest, was in charge of making sure that everybody else was. she, my sister, didn't really understand why our housekeeper, usually so straightforward and light-hearted, was still and worried and talking on the phone with our mother but not letting us hear. and so i, the joker, found a remote for the tv that hadn't had batteries in it for the longest time. 

"i'm the weatherman!" i declared, clambouring atop that sofa. "i control the weather now, and i command you to stop! stop raining!"

my sister bought into it easily. in those moments, it was just us two. i on my bike and her running behind me, i in my bed and her on the trundle. my joke, her laugh. 

that afternoon we were weathermen, in all our imaginative glory. we climbed the walls and jumped the sofas and whipped that remote back and forwards through the air, little fingers scraping over the rubber buttons at random and decreeing the sky to clear. even when the thunder came, it was all giggles and who could roar back louder. 

i was around that age of maybe-six-maybe-seven when i was a bit obsessed with natural disasters, especially storms and hurricanes. i used to watch videos on youtube all the time of relief efforts in the wake of tragedies and of what you should keep in your hurricane emergency pack. i even had my own one with a torch light, bandaids, a can of tuna, and about 20 loose batteries. 

i just loved the rain and watching it fall, i guess. i loved the muddy waves that would run wild on land, no care for anything or anyone. i loved the feeling of being 'prepared', me and my can of tuna. 

even when school would come around in september, i would relish in the early morning downpours that would always fall just before first break and blow cold air through the chattel house classrooms. i loved the swamps that would pool around benches and the rivers that would run down the footpaths. i liked it all best on friday afternoons when the teachers' resolves were already giving away to weekend festivity and, when the power finally blew, would let us take out the board games and spill the puzzle pieces and colour atop our desks or whatever else for the last hour. i liked the flourish that was everyone pulling out their raincoats and umbrellas before descending the wooden stairs and wading through their own young laughter. i liked the cold of the van's weak ac against the water droplets on my arms, soaking my sleeves, on my cheeks. the story of the soaked school shoes left out to dry in the hallway overnight. 

we liked it in secondary too, even those who liked acting above their age. the game was endorsed by our geography teacher who liked fun. who could spot the lightning, and who would count along, bated breath, until the thunder cracked down from the grey above. the shocked, stretched mouth in rounded 'o's at how close, at how loud, at how long the thunder would boom for. "that was a good one." but the best ones were always flashbangs: no time to get yourselves ready to count before your ears were already being bombarded. those were the ones that always got the most excitement out of us 12, 13 year olds. 

in preparation, while packing some five and a bit weeks ago, my dad had brought up the topic of umbrellas and raincoats. we were going to england, it would be necessary. so we dug through the cupboard for the coats we'd bought some 11 years before at the olympics in the very same england and aired them for two nights, stuffing them into my suitcase the morning before our nine-hour flight along with some umbrellas. 

in the end, although i packed those umbrellas in my day bag every single day, we only used them once to get from the flat to the nearest elizabeth line entryway one morning. even when storms were promised on the day we went to brighton, we missed every drop of rain without even trying. i seemed to have brought my luck with me to spain, because when i got there, everyone was saying it was warmer in the mornings than before. 

but getting off the return flight last week saturday i was instantly hit with the humidity of home sweet home. i avoided rain for all of three days before i remembered that it was july and this was barbados. 

today when it started raining i didn't even notice, my headphones on and my music playing. it wasn't until that same housekeeper shouted my name and asked if the windows downstairs were shut that i even realised that the sky was its signature shade of grey once more. 

i like the rain, really. my standing fan is no longer resigned to being constantly switched on. i am not boiling in my t-shirt and shorts and a warm drink doesn't threaten to off me at the first sip. 

i've contemplated, all morning, if i should just find a swimsuit and sneak out the patio door before my housekeeper can notice and just lay there in all my pale glory and let the rain hit me. i wondered it, stopping to stand by a window that was letting in the wet, cold air and imagining it hitting my skin full-force. by writing this, i'e evaded a stern telling-off and a long minute washing my hair all over again. but still, i wonder if maybe i was younger again whether i would pull something like that to hear my sister laugh and clumsily try to copy me. i wonder if it's been raining on her golf courses in cayman and florida. 

#ash writes #drabbles #life writing #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #memories #childhood #spilled ink

[ourouterspace]

Fight the Insomnia

I am an insomniac. Because most nights I never feel sleepy, which made me couldn't sleep. It feels like my brain, body and soul refuse to sleep. Overthinking, anxiety and stuff hehehe

As I got older, I realized I just couldn’t keep this cycle. And this really frightened me. About the consequences of lack of sleep and things. I need sleep after all. My body needs sleep. My sanity too. So I need to push myself to sleep. However it takes. 

For that, I read a lot of articles about "How to sleep bla-bla-bla..." to defeat my ruined sleep cycle. Then I found some common ground and I follow some that works for me after trials & errors. Here are some tips and tricks from mine.

First of all, sleep and wake around the same time, everyday, even on weekends. 

You can have at least plus/minus one hour to procrast your sleep/wake, I usually use this on the weekends. This is to make your body get used to being sleepy at the same time.

One thing that I did to keep up with this sleep schedule was to make an alarm. This is to give yourself some wind-down time before you sleep. Wind-down time should begin 1-2 hours before you plan to fall asleep.

I never knew about the wind-down time before. And just wished I could sleep as soon as I lay my head on the pillow, which obviously never happens. But then I realized I need to let myself just lay down, prepare my body to fall asleep. As for me it took 2 hours to wind-down. 

I used to make a sleep alarm around 10 pm. But now I just made a mental note that I should lay down around 10 pm, because I need my wind-down time around 2 hours, so I can sleep at 12 am. If I start to lay down long after 10 pm, it immediately changes my sleep time.

Sleep at 12 am is early in my dictionary. Because I used to sleep around 2 or after subuh. And I couldn’t change my sleep time too drastically around 9 or 10 pm, which is recommended, so I just compromised around 12 am. At least the day has changed yet hehehe

And to wake, I make an alarm at least 30 minutes before the initial time to wake. So I let myself snooze at least 3 times, with an interval of 10 min every snooze. To prepare myself to wake up, since it really chores for me. I used to have some mental motivation like “You can nap again later”, which is the biggest lie I told myself, but somehow it works hahaha

Then, put the room in the dark and cool, if you used AC. 

It's also about circadian rhythm. Where in the morning you need sunlight so your body wakes and in the night put your room as dark as possible to make your body realize it's time to rest.

At night, I just turn off the lamp and turn on the AC as soon as I want to lay down. The dark room could help the body to release melatonin to sleep-promoting actions. And the cool room could help your body to relax.

I put my bed facing the window, so when I wake up I could open the curtain and let the natural light come through. It helps to wake and let the body get the sunlight that is needed. Also turn off the AC as soon as you wake up and let the body get the heat from the sun in the morning.

But it is just a disaster if the day starts with cloudy weather. It put my body not energize, but my mood just love it hahaha

Don't eat near your bed time and eat light.

Give a minimum 3 hour for the last thing you eat. So your body has already finished digesting that food. And light food could digest faster.

Because I want to lay down around 10 pm, so I usually eat before 7 pm. Light food here is about the calories and the amount. Don’t put yourself too full while eating dinner and eat the least calories for the meal of the day at night. Maybe I would write about the calories proportion for meal later on if my mood struck in hahaha

Don't drink coffee or anything with caffeine either. But chamomile tea might help.

I tried chamomile tea before, but I didn't feel any different if I drank it before sleep or in the morning. So I just pick chamomile tea as an alternative if I want to drink something at night or just drink it in the morning to have a calming day.

And for coffee or caffeinated tea like black or green tea, I just drink in the morning. Since sometimes I still find it hard to wake up. Not drink it in the afternoon or night, or it will be another disaster, since my body is too sensitive to caffeine. 

Put away the phone. And read a book instead.

But honestly I still found it difficult to put away my phone since I like to read eBooks on my phone. So I just put on some reading lamp near my pillow and read for about 2 hours in my wind-down time then put the phone on charge before sleep.

Even though it sometimes fired back at me and made me read more than 2 hours, I still did it hahaha Read sufficiently peps!

If you want to get sleepy faster, then try to read something "hard" like nonfiction or self help books. Or read academic journal, it really do wonder hehehe

I really do not recommend watching something before sleep. Don’t kid yourself about it. I never do that again either. The “next episode” button on Netflix and YouTube “recommended videos” just enemies to insomniac hahaha

Have some routine before sleep.

Last month I tried another trick to repair my sleep cycle, and that is taking a bath before sleep. Somehow it made me feel “clean” before I lay down on my bed. Some warm bath could help they said, but I just took cold bath instead since I just too lazy to have warm water hahaha

Some also said, meditation or yoga could help the body to get relaxed before sleep. But I also didn't do this because I was just too lazy. The routine exercise could also help the body repair the circadian rhythm and sleep cycle. But it’s just another thing that I need to repair, get my body to move hahaha

So, my night routine is to clean up, then take a bath, pray, night skincare, turn off the lamp, journal, read a little, then sleep.

But don't think that I follow that routine everyday though hahaha

There's still sometimes that I sleep at subuh because I go out at night and turn down later. And mostly my will to follow the schedule and routine weaken on the weekend hahaha

The routine really did wonders for my sleep cycle last month. I also put a mi-band on while sleeping to track my sleep. I sleep and wake mostly at the same time. Have around 6-7 hours sleep. Have more deep sleep.

One thing I never expected was to lose 2 kilos of my weight. But when I ruined it again on the weekend, then my weight just jump back and forth hahaha

But above all the tips and tricks, the most important thing is the mindset.

After thousands of sleepless nights, I realized I couldn't just turn off my brain at night to sleep that easily. And I was not the kind of person who can fall asleep while watching something. It takes time for me to realize I need to command my body to rest. I couldn't just wait for my body to get tired then sleep itself. So, “the will to sleep” is really needed for me.

I have mantras to remind me to sleep. I did not command my body like "You should sleep now". It just didn't work for me. So my mantra would be like "You may sleep, you may..."

It’s like I give myself permission to sleep, to rest, to turn down my busy brain. It works. Sometimes hahaha

This journey is still going on. I still tweak my routine here and there to make me sleep. But at least I won't stop trying. Because now I realized I need sleep.

And you too.

#insomnia #insomniac #fight the insomnia

[spencersawkward]

omg omg i know matthews birthday isnt for a couple weeks but i would die for a bday sex one shot omg

i made you wait so long for this i'm so sorry omg. one-shots usually take me longer bc i want them to be detailed!

summary: reader has plans for Matthew’s 41st birthday, but things take their own turn. 

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, oral (male receiving), degradation, Soft!Dom Matthew with some fluff, too; fingering, creampie, implied age gap. 

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.3k

masterlist

I haul the enormous bag of flour onto the counter, grunting. it's early afternoon, and my day has been spent wrapping all of Matthew's gifts and trying to plan out the perfect birthday celebration. he's turning 41, and all I want is for him to feel as special as he feels to me. the cake is the last piece of the puzzle, and I'm hoping that my less-than-excellent culinary skills improve over the course of the next few hours.

I set out all the ingredients first, swaying to my music while I go through the recipe and decide how much I need. it shouldn't be too complicated, right? just chocolate cake with buttercream frosting. I thought I'd try to recreate the Rumple Buttercup cartoon with it, but now I'm not so sure. that might be flirting with disaster.

instead of deciding right there, I just get started on the batter. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

the air is thick with sweetness and warmth as the oven slowly pre-heats and I stir together the silky smooth chocolate batter. I pour the mix into a round baking pan, tapping it a bit to make sure it's even, before pushing it into the oven. naturally, I lick the whisk clean.

my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to see that Matthew's texted me.

on my way home now!

my heart stutters in my chest as I check the time. he's definitely early; he told me this morning that he wouldn't be at home until at least seven. my eyes flicker to the cake, over the messy kitchen, and back to my screen.

early?

yep. can't wait to see you. followed by a series of heart emojis. I start to panic a little. this throws my whole schedule off; I was going to do my hair, pick up food from his favorite restaurant, set the table, litter the bed with rose petals. I wanted everything to be just right for him; it's the first time he's had a birthday with me.

and now he's going to come home to me with flour-dusted cheeks and a half-baked cake. I quickly clean the kitchen and wipe my face before running off to the bedroom, rifling through my closet for something nice. thank god I already showered this morning because there's no way I'd have time now. I find the dress I'd planned to wear, red and slinky and pretty, before dropping my clothes and changing right away.

truly, I move at the speed of light when I do my hair, scatter the rose petals, and call the restaurant to get our order started. we'll need to run out and get it, but Matthew likes going for walks, so that shouldn't be a problem.

the smell of chocolate wafts through the house while I tie an apron around my waist and get a bowl out of the cabinets. the cake needs to cool for a while, but I might as well get started on the frosting. who knows how long that'll take?

too damn long, apparently.

Matthew opens the front door while I'm halfway through my crumb coat, the soft green shade of the Rumple Buttercup colors coming along nicely. I start to panic a little when I hear his footsteps on the stairs.

"Y/N!" he calls out.

"kitchen!" I respond without moving. he probably shouldn't see the cake, but at this point it's too late. there's fluffy buttercream frosting and food coloring all over my apron. all I can do is wait patiently as he strolls into the room.

"what are you up to?" he sets his hand on my back, smiling.

"making your cake, birthday boy."

"mmm." he wraps a hand around my arm, drags it down while leaning his chin on my shoulder. "looks really nice so far."

"you like the color?" I ask.

"I do." he mumbles, starting to touch my waist. "what material is this?"

"silk."

"you know I love that." he squeezes my waist and I have to resist the blush spreading up my cheeks. he's affectionate right now, and I want to resist, but it's hard.

"what're you doing?" I question playfully in response to the drifting of his fingers down my thighs.

"I'm excited to see you."

"I'm excited to see you, too, but we have a strict schedule tonight."

Matthew groans and drops his head into the space between my neck and shoulder. his hands don't leave my hips.

"why?" he whines.

"because I want you to have the best birthday ever." I smooth off the top of the cake, sighing when he digs his fingernails into me. it feels heavenly, and the featherlight kisses he's leveling on my jaw are making me woozy.

"making me wait?" he brushes over my ass, squeezing the flesh lightly. "that's cruel."

I laugh a little and swipe my finger through the frosting.

"try this and tell me if I'm still cruel."

he grabs my hand in both of his, sliding my index into his mouth and licking it off of me. my jaw drops in surprise before he pulls away and drops it. it's unbelievably sexy.

"that is really good." he smiles, then kisses my cheek in an alarmingly innocent manner. he knows what he's doing. "don't be a tease, darling."

"you--" I stutter, trying to regain my concentration. it's futile at this point; it isn't until he moves away from my body that I'm able to keep working on the cake. he only glances with a knowing smirk, walking around the counter to sit across from me.

"how was your day?"

"my day was jam-packed with planning for a little ingrate's birthday." I joke.

"I'm not an ingrate." he protests. one look at his pout and I feel guilty for teasing. standing on tiptoes, I lean over the counter and plant a kiss on his mouth.

"you're right, I'm sorry," I sigh. "I just had a whole plan and when you came home early, I didn't have time for all of it."

"what can I do?" he offers immediately. I scowl.

"you're not gonna help me prepare your birthday celebration, silly."

"but I wanna make it easier."

"you wanna make it easier?" I ask, the corners of my lips quirking up. he nods enthusiastically and I hold his gaze. "I need to go pick up our dinner, so you can walk with me."

"ooh, yes!" he leaps up in an almost child-like manner, coming around to my side again. I nuzzle into his shoulder as I finish piping the face onto the cake. he snorts when he sees the completed project. "is that Rumple?"

"shut up, it looks so bad." I complain. my body leans into his in defeat. even though I tried, Rumple looks like he's been possessed and exorcised in one sitting: he's got crazy eyes and a lopsided face.

"no, it's beautiful," he pecks the top of my head. "he's supposed to look funny."

all I can do is turn around and hug him, giggling at the absolute monstrosity that I've created. he wraps his arms around me tightly and we start to sway a little.

"I feel like Victor Frankenstein." I laugh. he untangles our bodies to tilt my chin up and look at him.

"you're way cuter." he rubs my nose with his own. I'm smiling so big, it hurts. he makes me so unbelievably happy, I can't imagine not being by his side. Matthew is the best boyfriend in the world, and I really want everything to live up to his expectations.

our fingers thread together briefly before we get ready to go pick up our food.

...

"I am literally going to combust." I giggle, throwing my napkin onto the table. red wax drips down the sides of the candle between us, and Matthew's eyes are starry as he watches me talk.

"good?" he asks.

"amazing. how was yours?"

"could barely get it down." he gestures to the empty plate. I throw my head back and laugh more than I should. Matthew frowns. "what?"

"that's such a dad joke."

"really?" he laughs along with me until we're both just smiling brightly at each other. I don't want to step too far; we've been dating under a year, still. but I see myself with Matthew forever. we've already moved in together; I've never felt so strongly as I feel for him, and I think that he feels it, too. in our bones.

"yes, but I like dad jokes."

"come here." he holds his arms out and I get up from the table, walking over to sit on his lap. he shifts so I can be more comfortable, and I place both hands on my stomach.

"I have such a food baby right now."

"do you?" he sets one hand over the bump. I lean my head into his shoulder, curling up a little. he starts to rub my tummy gently, holding me close while we sit in a relative quiet. "I like it."

"mmm." I hum, wrapping my arms around his neck. although he could easily turn this sexual, he doesn't. we just linger, breathing and letting our food settle. I really am full; the chances of me falling asleep are higher than not.

I ask Matthew to tell me more about his day as I sit there, and the rumble of his voice in his chest is soothing. as the candle wax drips further and further down, I watch it with lethargic eyes. I've had a hard year-- Matthew's made it better. he can read me like a book, and he listens like I've got all the answers in the world. I love him. and when I head to the kitchen to slice the cake, he follows me with his arms around my waist. we move like two people who have been together a long time, like we can anticipate the next person's movement down to the flicker of their eye contact, down to their step.

"I can't believe you have room for dessert." I grab a knife from the drawer, along with some plates. Matthew kisses my head.

"I've got room for multiple desserts."

"was that a sexual allusion or are you actually hungry?" I turn briefly to gauge his behavior. if he hasn't had enough to eat, I'll feel horrible. but he leans down to my ear. it still sends a shiver down my spine.

"definitely sexual," he smirks, then retreats. "let's do this, though, first. I want a piece of Rumple's eyeball."

"just get out the candles so I can do this for you." I push him away. he heads to the cupboard and returns with the pack of candles that I begin to spear into the cake. I only put in ten because there's not room for forty-one, but he doesn't seem to mind as I light them up individually.

"go sit down! you weren't even supposed to come in here." I laugh as I lift the dish into my arms and shoo him into the other room. Matthew gives me a sidelong look, smiling for an unknown reason, before following my orders.

he pretends to look surprised when I bring the thing out to him, mouth making a pleased O shape.

"wow!" he cheers.

"make a wish, then, my love." I tell him. he inhales deeply, then blows out the candles. one or two stragglers remain, their flames flickering before he tries again and snuffs them out. I clap my hands.

"happy birthday, baby!"

he grins at me and starts to pluck the candles out of the cake. "you didn't sing to me." he says.

"trust me, that was a gift in itself." I laugh before picking up the knife. "how big a slice do you want?"

Matthew seems to think for a second on this, squinting as he examines the thing.

"big."

"alright then." I cut an enormous hunk out, making sure to get one of the maddened eyeballs on it before sliding it onto the plate and giving it to him. "enjoy."

"oh, I will." before I can move to sit across from him, he reaches out and pulls me into his lap. I let out a surprised noise, but settle in anyway on his thigh while I cut my own slice of cake. we eat together.

"it's actually pretty good." I'm impressed with myself. sure, it's not a super complicated recipe. but I still did well. Matthew wraps his arm around my waist, one hand holding his plate while the other digs the fork in.

"it's amazing." he nods through a mouthful of food.

"how's the eye?"

"how you'd expect a vitreous humor to taste." he jokes, laughing as I elbow him in the ribs. "ow!" he complains. I swipe some of the frosting off the top of his slice and tap it over his nose. he wrinkles it at the sensation.

"maybe I'll just leave." I move to get up, but he keeps me in place. his little smile, so determined in its happiness, makes my heart soften. for all of his teasing, he's weak for me, and I love it. when I lean down a little to lick the icing off, he blushes.

"when can I have you?" he asks quietly, one hand resting on the top of my bare thigh. it tightens around my skin, growing more aware of my presence in his lap. I bite my lip and mull this over, subtly draw the hem of my dress up a bit just to tease him.

"I'm thinking..." this time, he lets me get up. my fingers slide through his, dragging him with me. "now."

Matthew gets an excited grin on his face before I spin around and lead him to the bedroom. a couple candles are burning, filling the room with a deep, sensual smell that he inhales as he stops in his tracks.

"did you put rose petals on our bed?" he chuckles, staring at me with his eyebrows raised in an adoring expression. I run my palms up his chest, stopping below his shoulders. I poke my tongue between my teeth as I smile.

"yes, I did."

"very romantic."

"is it?" I lift an eyebrow. it takes everything in me not to pounce on him right then.

"consider me seduced."

"if you ever use that word again, I'm calling this off." I laugh. he silences it in a kiss, eagerly gathering my body up in his arms as he tilts his head to deepen it. a slight moan slips through me, pleased with the gentle, innocent pleasure he elicits. he's softer than velvet. when he crushes the silk of my dress in his fist, lifting it over my ass so he can touch me without barriers, he groans.

"did I pay for this?" he rolls the fabric between his fingers.

"mhmm." I hum.

"good." his breath hitches when the zipper comes down easily, the garment falling to the floor and leaving me in brand new black lingerie. his eyes move hungrily over my body, pupils dilating further as he takes in the curves of my figure.

"this is new."

I twist around a bit, showing him the back as well, his grip on my waist loosening only to allow me this movement. "you like it?"

he groans. "I love it."

I want to start undressing him, greedy for the sight of his naked body, but he reaches down and lifts me into his arms, my legs wrapping around him while he carries me to the floral-covered mattress. I sink into a rosy paradise, almost give into the alluring sensations he causes with his fingertips over my skin.

he's between my legs, teeth seeking out collarbone and the swell of my chest. it would be so, so easy to remain here, pinned down and allowing him to let loose on me. every deliberate shadow on my body is like a sunburst. but I can't.

I grab his shoulders and yank him down next to me. he peers at me with a smile, wondering what I've got in store. the answer is too loaded to fit into one sentence, so I watch him move up the bed until he's resting his head on the pillow, my legs moving to straddle him.

"taking control?" he questions. he knows I don't usually like to be on top. instead of replying, I reach behind me and undo the clasps of my bra, sliding it from my arms before tossing it somewhere else. his eyes widen and he goes to grab at my tits, but I'm too quick. I lean down, unbuttoning his shirt and drawing my nails over his chest as I lower myself to his pants.

Matthew is silent, open-mouthed at the red marks I leave behind on his smooth skin. it's intoxicating for me, too, and I work quickly to tug his bottoms down his legs, the boxers with them. when his dick is released, I let him struggle through a moment of no contact.

"let me touch you." he goes to stroke himself. my gaze flickers between the length he's now gripping in his hand and the needy look on his face. I want to fuck him right now. every cell in my body aches for him, for the pleasure that so violently rips through my veins when he's inside.

"not yet." I betray myself, and his hips buck into empty air when he sees my torso so close to his erection. when I drop my head and lick up the underside, he lets go of himself and allows me to tease him. I pause at the tip, then hold the base while I spit on it.

"shit!" he grunts as I start to swirl my tongue around him. his fingers run through my hair. "suck on it, baby."

all I do is moan, the vibration torturing him. I peek up through my lashes and see the veins in his neck throbbing while he resists the urge to fuck my mouth. I soften and lower my head slowly, inch by inch swallowing his cock. he hits the back of my throat. the slight gag that runs through me makes him sigh. it's then that I tap his hand as our signal to push my head down.

Matthew loses it. he starts to shove my mouth onto him, fucking it, one hand reaching behind him to grab the top of the headboard while he groans.

"choke on it... fuck." he moans. there are tears in my eyes from the pressure, but I keep looking at him the whole time. he's gorgeous, mouth dropped open in ecstasy while he goes between rolling his eyes into the back of his head and staring with an intense desire.

every time I gag, he lets out an unholy noise and gets excited all over again, his hips moving to meet my lips until he's on the edge of falling apart. his cock twitches and I moan, but he's not willing to finish.

"get over here so I can fuck you." his voice is borderline raspy as he forces himself to release my head. I sit up and wipe the spit from my mouth, crawling on top of him again to leave some of my favorite marks on his neck. he's mine. every bite stands to prove it, and his quick breaths let me know that he's not going to wait much longer.

his fingertips hook in the waistband of my panties and he pushes them down my thighs, purses his lips while he watches me shimmy out of them. it's wonderful, seeing the disarray in his face whenever he catches sight of my naked form. he never knows where to touch first, moving over my breasts to my waist and hips down to my legs. like he's trying to blend our bodies together by simply drinking me in.

I tense when he reaches out and sinks two fingers into me. I'm so wet, it takes almost no pressure.

"fucking soaked, huh?" he smirks. my hands steady themselves on his shoulders as he starts to pump in and out of me. I groan.

"get inside, please." I murmur nearly incoherently. he starts to go faster, his cock throbbing against his stomach. but he wants me to squirm and beg.

"oh, so you've got demands?" he teases. his fingers curl in my pussy, brushing over my special spot, and I almost gasp at the pleasure. "after making me wait?"

"I just--" I start to defend myself, but it's fruitless. he guides my face down to his, whispering in my ear.

"let me guess: you just wanted me to have a good birthday?"

"yes." a choked, desperate reply.

"let me show you what kind of present I want, then." he removes his fingers and lines himself up at my entrance, pushing me all the way down before sliding the pads of his digits into my mouth. I lick them clean while I moan. his cock is so deep inside me, I can barely breathe.

the combined pressures between my hips and on my tongue, make me give up on drawing this out. it feels so good, I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to. I rise up a bit and sink onto him again, his jaw clenched at the sensation. he lets me do this a couple times and then pauses my actions.

"get on your hands and knees." he orders. I lift myself obediently, whining slightly at the loss of contact, before he sits up and switches positions so that he's kneeling behind. I wait patiently for him to do what he wants with me. he doesn't disappoint.

softly, he pushes my head down so that my cheek rests against the pillow while he slides in from the back. it's a completely different angle and I can barely handle the way he works through the tightness, his moans louder this time.

"thought you could sit on it and I would just let you?" he chuckles darkly, pulling out and moving in. my breath rattles in my chest at the repeated, delicious intrusions. my eyelids flutter shut while he keeps talking to me in that commanding, low tone. "you're my little slut."

the moan that comes from my lips is pathetic, like a mewl. he plows into me and my face presses into the mattress.

"such a perfect little pussy," his hands lure my hips to him while he groans at the new depths he keeps finding. "so responsive for me."

"faster, Matthew." I whine. although he's not going slow, I need more. the slam of his body against mine, from this angle, creates just short of enough friction for my clit. he follows my request, however, and fucks me at an insatiable pace.

"you like that?" he grunts. I literally don't have the mobility to nod, so I shove my ass back instead to take more. he bucks. "you feel so fucking good."

I whimper and he starts to stimulate my clit by reaching around, lowering himself a bit to do so. he keeps his arm pressed to my stomach so he can feel the bulge of his cock sliding in and out of me. "good girl. take it."

my fingertips fist the sheets and I whine as my orgasm approaches. he switches the pattern of pressure, finding what makes me fall apart fastest. I'm on the edge, my mouth dropping open in a silent cry. my hips start to move on their own, working against his cock as I moan his name and tumble into the abyss.

"Matthew, right there-- fuck me, fuck me--" I moan. he rams his hips so hard, the headboard slams the wall and he groans.

"you're gonna make me break you, baby." he warns. I bite my lip so hard that I almost puncture the skin, feeling like a planetary collision is occurring within my lower stomach. I'm coming up on a second climax.

"break me, then." I dare.

Matthew wraps his arm around my chest and brings me up so that I'm leaning against his chest while he whispers in my ear. "defiant little whores don't get my cum."

"but--" I complain, hips wriggling for more while he thrusts into me.

"apologize or I'll stop fucking you right now." he slows just to demonstrate the torture of not being inside me. I grasp at his hips to coax him, but he's determined. I take a shaky breath at the smooth, slow movements.

"I'm sorry." I beg. he reaches down and starts to play with my bundle of nerves again. as much as he wants to make me crash, he loves the way this feels, too.

"mmm," he hums while laying sloppy kisses along my neck. "good thing I wanna fill you up for being so sweet today."

his thrusts are uncontrolled and needy, rapid pushes between my legs that cause me to start shaking all over again. he rubs my clit and moans in my ear, spilling.

"I love you so much." he mumbles. the hand holding me to him squeezes one of my tits while I arch my spine and enjoy the slowing pace of our bodies. I moan his name.

"I love you, too." I'm in awe of how he changes for me, his attitude shifts whenever we're in bed. it's cosmic, how we fit together. and his withdrawal from my body causes both of us to collapse onto the bed with exhaustion.

I can only suck in air for a while. my limbs are like lead, in the best way.

"that was hot." he mutters. I turn to him, admiring his beautiful features, and nod lazily.

"a successful birthday, then?"

"after that cake? yeah." he scoffs jokingly and I giggle before curling into him. he traces his fingertips down my skin. "do you wanna take a shower?"

"I'm so tired." I groan. Matthew glances at me.

"I'm the one who just turned forty-one."

"shut up."

"come on, then. let's get you cleaned up."

he rises from the mattress, bringing me with him. a few stray rose petals flutter onto the ground.

#matthew gray gubler #mgg smut #mgg x reader #mgg oneshot

[kozumekenza]

on my mind :: three

:: suna rintarou x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::

:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.0k ::

After a drunken one-night stand with your ex, you thought you could get him out of your life for good. Unfortunately, the two of you can’t seem to keep away from each other. Why can’t you leave each other alone? And more importantly, why is he still on your mind?

tw: alcohol, profanity, talk of sex, gets a little bit nsfw at the end (heavy kissing)

author’s note: I officially have an update schedule and final chapter count for this! It will update on tues/thurs at 6pm pdt, with a final chapter count of eight. I’m also planning on writing a few bonus chapters that are nsfw to add a bit to the story, but they won’t be a “necessary” read and will also be able to be read as one-shots. Thank you everyone for reading and for all of the support so far! 

After the disaster that was your phone call with Osamu (the audacity of Miya Atsumu), the rest of your day went smoothly. You met the rest of the players (you were thrilled to see Aran) and went home at the end of the day, feeling pretty good about your new job. If everything between you and Suna stayed a secret, then everything would be fine. 

Unfortunately, you forgot to account for the fact that you were surrounded by a bunch of men (boys, in your opinion) in their twenties, who thought more with a certain appendage on their lower halves than they did with their brains. This convenient fact was made apparent on Wednesday afternoon, during a routine stretching break. 

You were hovering around Atsumu, Aran, and Suna, working on Aran’s shoulder with one earbud in, humming along to some pop song with the other ear not-so-subtly listening in to the boys’ conversation. 

Suna sat his water bottle down and turned towards Aran. “Dude, I had the best and worst fucking night on Saturday. I told ‘Tsumu already, but d’ya wanna hear?”

You kept your head down, focusing on your task while praying that Aran would say no. Apparently, Atsumu had kept his promise and didn’t tell anyone but his twin brother, because Aran nodded his head. You internally cringed, sneaking a glance at Atsumu out of the corner of your eye. The smug bastard had a grin on his face and even had the nerve to look at you and fucking wink. He was lucky that you were already willing to keep this a secret at all costs, or else you would’ve slapped that look off of his face. 

“Alright, so I went out Saturday night to get drunk before practices started, and I met this sexy chick at the bar. I don’t remember much, ‘cause I was fucking wasted, but I took her back to my place.”

Aran held his fist up for a fist bump. “Score, dude!”

Suna rolled his eyes, “Yeah, that’s what I thought at first too. Except I woke up the next morning, and she was gone. Left her bra and skirt at my place, but get this, she stole my fucking National Team jersey!”

Atsumu was uncharacteristically quiet, but Aran filled the silence with a “Damn, bro.” You winced at Suna’s storytelling, yet internally thanked the universe that he didn’t remember that it was you.

“Yeah, the managers are gonna kill me when I ask for a new one. It’s all good though, ‘cause I’m pretty sure the sex was fucking amazing.”

You couldn’t help the choking sound that left your throat and the coughing that followed. Suna handed you his water bottle as you sat down, a concerned look on his face. Meanwhile, Atsumu was fucking laughing. You greedily drank from the bottle, shooting Atsumu a glare. 

After thanking Suna and handing the bottle back, you walked over to the bench to prepare for the second half of afternoon practice. You did not want to stick around them for any longer and listen to any more of Suna’s narrative. 

A large arm slung itself across your shoulders, and you threw an elbow back without looking. Atsumu clutched his ribs and winced as you turned around, seething.

“I can’t fucking believe you, Miya Atsumu. First you wink, then you laugh?”

He stood back up, grinning. “It’s not my fault that it’s so funny.”

“Miya Atsumu! My failure of a love life is not funny.”

“So you admit that he’s a part of your love life?”

“Shut the fuck up, Miya.”

---

Luckily, there was no repeat of the events that occurred Wednesday, at least that you heard. You steadily avoided Suna, not wanting to hear him talk about the “hot chick that stole his jersey” again. Your avoidance plan worked fine, until he began seeking you out. He started stopping by your office when you weren’t there. Iwaizumi always relayed the message to you when you passed him, mentioning the “tall middle blocker that keeps looking for you”. It wasn’t until Friday, when Suna somehow injured his ankle, that you had a moment alone with him. As you worked on wrapping his ankle up, he surveyed your office.

“I’m surprised you still have any photos with me.”

His words made you pause your work, following his eyes to the framed photo on your desk. It was a photo of you, Suna, Aran, and the twins, taken just a week before you left with no warning. “Why?”

“Well I know we didn’t end things on the best of terms. I thought you would’ve destroyed anything to do with me by now.”

You hummed thoughtfully and resumed your work. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He looked at you quizzically. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m an athletic trainer for a volleyball team because of you, Suna.” You watched his knitted brows. “When I fell in love with you, I also fell in love with volleyball. It was the only piece of our relationship I allowed myself to keep when I left.”

He looked at you as if he was seeing you for the first time. “I never realized.”

“That was my intention.”

He sat back once again and allowed you to finish the wrap. “All done. You know the treatment plan; be careful, ice it, rest often. Let me know if it keeps bothering you.”

Suna stood up, testing the wrap. “Thank you, y/n. It feels better already.”

You gave him a small smile.  “You’re welcome, Suna.”

He walked towards the door, but stopped before opening it. “You know, I was serious about my offer the other day,” he turned to face you, “If you’re free tonight, we should grab drinks.”

You carefully considered his offer. You did miss having Suna around, and it couldn’t hurt to reconnect. There didn’t have to be anything romantic about it, you could just get a friend back. On the other hand, the last time you drank with Suna, you ended up in his bed. However, if you exercised a little self-control, you were sure it would be fine.

“I’m free tonight.”

He smiled. “Great. Send me your address, I’ll pick you up at eight.”

You watched the door shut behind him as he left. This was either going to be the best or worst decision you ever made. 

---

It was the worst decision. It was 7:30, and you still hadn’t figured out what to wear. What were you supposed to wear when you went to a bar with your ex-boyfriend turned (maybe?) friend, who you accidentally slept with last week? You texted Yachi, but you knew Friday nights were her date nights with her girlfriend, Kiyoko. Still, you prayed that she would answer and prayed even more that Kiyoko was with her. Kiyoko always knew what to wear. 

Your prayers were answered when you received a text approving an outfit you had sent only a few minutes ago. Thank God for Yachi and her friendship. You quickly redressed and finished your makeup before the doorbell rang. You threw on a pair of heels and opened the door to find Suna on the other side, a shy smile on his face. 

“Hey, y/n. You look really nice.”

You grinned at him as you shut your door and locked it. “You do too.” It wasn’t a lie; Suna looked amazing. You had forgotten how well he dressed, as you were always seeing him in practice clothes. He wore slim-fit gray jeans with a loose black button-up. You could see a gold chain peeking out from where the top was unbuttoned, and if you weren’t so dedicated to not sleeping with him again, you would have jumped him right there in the hallway. 

You walked side by side to the same bar you had met in last week (although you didn’t mention this), catching up with each other. He talked about his experience on his pro team and how he felt when he received the letter from the National Team, while you told him about your college experience and moving to Tokyo by yourself. It felt nice, normal even, to be able to simply talk with Suna. It was something neither of you were very good at when you were together, and it was refreshing to know that the two of you could simply chat with one another now. 

The two of you sat at the bar near the dance floor when you arrived. You sipped on a martini and listened to Suna talk about everything that you had missed in the eight years you had been apart. You had expected your conversations to be awkward, but they flowed naturally and never stopped. Before you knew it, you were on your fourth drink and all of your self-control had been thrown out the window.

“C’mon, Suna, I wanna dance.” You grabbed his wrist in an effort to pull him off of his barstool and onto the dance floor with you.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, y/n? You’ve had quite a bit to drink.”

“Of course I’m sure!”

Suna began to stand. “Okay, I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

You turned to look back up at him. “How could I regret any of this?”

He looked shocked at your words, but before he could formulate a response, you were pulling him to the center of the dance floor and reaching for a shot from one of the waitresses. 

“Drink with me, Sunarin!” You didn’t know what switch had flipped in your brain (yes you did, it was the alcohol), but suddenly, all you wanted was for Suna to get drunk and ignore the rest of the world with you. He obliged you and took a shot, not even grimacing at the taste of straight liquor. 

You began to jump around in time to the pulsing beat, Suna watching you, but not dancing. You allowed him to simply watch with dark eyes until you were both on your third shot, and then you had enough.

“Sunarin, I wanna dance with you.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, even sticking your bottom lip out for good measure. Drunk you had no shame, whatsoever. He seemed hesitant, but you grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips, pushing your chest flush with his. You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and played with the ends of his hair. 

“I missed you.” The words fell unbidden from your lips, and although there was some part of your brain that told you that you were making a big mistake, you ignored it and listened to your heart. “I really missed you, Sunarin.”

You looked up at Suna through your eyelashes and felt his breath catch. “You don’t call me Rintarou anymore.” His eyes were filled with longing and sadness, and you looked away so that you wouldn’t drown in them. 

“Formalities, I guess.” The emotion in his eyes disappeared and he hummed, grabbing both of you another shot. After setting the glasses down, his hands found their way back to your hips. You didn’t want his eyes to look blank like this, but you didn’t like the sadness either. You wanted Suna to be happy, you wanted him to want you. So you threw all caution to the wind.

You pulled his head down towards you until your lips were only centimeters apart and whispered to him.

“I want you, Rintarou.”

He pressed his lips to yours in a scorching kiss while pulling your hips closer. You grinded on him to the beat of the song while trying to keep up with his passionate kisses. It was a mix of tongue and teeth, full of enough longing to make up for the eight years you had been separated. 

He began to kiss down your neck, pausing long enough at your ear to whisper a proposition.

“D’ya wanna go back to my place?”

You considered it for a millisecond. You knew, in the back of your mind, that this was exactly what you were scared was going to happen. You also knew that you wanted this more than anything else. 

You nodded your head, and Suna entwined his hand with yours and pulled you out onto the streets of Tokyo.

taglist: @sunasexual @call-me-lulu @ntimacy @circleglasses​ @porcolie​ @keikotaro

#kenzawrites #onmymind #Suna #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyuu suna #suna haikyuu #suna x reader #Suna fluff #suna rintarou #suna scenarios #suna rintarō #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro angst #suna rintaro x y/n #haikyu x reader #hq x y/n #suna x y/n #y/n #hq x reader #reader #reader insert #hq x you #suna x you #ejp raijin #ejp suna #ejp #japan national team #Miya Atsumu

[let-the-dream-begin]

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 27: Vortex

Chapter 26

Read on AO3

Vortex: a mass of swirling water that draws everything to it

——

In late August, with September right around the corner, Claire and Faith were about to experience their first hurricane. Claire had experienced all levels of terrifying weather with Uncle Lamb out in the field, including floods, sandstorms, mudslides, and nearly every other manner of natural disasters. Hurricanes, however, had eluded them. They’d only gone to South America one time, and they’d merely seen some heavy rainfall.

Claire had been keeping her eye on the news, seeing how hurricane Matthew was affecting other areas along the east coast. She shuddered to think of them even losing power, let alone anything actually disastrous happening. All news and weather outlets were assuring that by the time it hit the island, it would have lost most of its power, so the storm wouldn’t be devastating, but it would do damage nonetheless.

Claire was doing another scan of the weather channel (which Faith did not appreciate) before work when her phone rang. Jamie.

“Sassenach?”

“This is she.”

“Good morning, lass. Sleep well?”

“I did, is everything alright?”

“Aye, fine. Just wanted to check in. The storm is gonna hit tomorrow; wanted to make sure ye were prepared.”

“Prepared enough,” Claire said, throwing a bar and a yogurt into her purse. “I’ve gotten the bread and milk, as they say. Stocked up.”

“Aye, that’s good. Are ye prepared for losing power?”

“Flashlights are ready with spare batteries and all. Portable charger for the iPad.”

“What about fer you?”

“Oh, I have to be at the hospital before it starts and then stay. It runs on a generator so I’ll be good with a regular charger.”

“Wait, what d’ye mean, stay?”

“Well, I’m considered an emergency worker so I can’t take off. I’m going to have to sleep there if the roads are flooded or blocked with trees.” Claire zippered her purse as she flitted back into the living room, then started pulling on her shoes.

“Ye could be there for days, Sassenach.”

“I know.”

“What about Faith?”

The little girl in question barreled into her as if on cue, waiting for her goodbye. “One second, Jamie. Yes, time for goodbye hugs.” Claire crouched down and gave her daughter a squeeze and a kiss. “Be good for Mrs. Lickett. Yes? Okay, bye-bye.”

With one final kiss and a farewell to Mrs. Lickett, Claire was out the door. “Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“What’re ye gonna do wi’ Faith while ye’re at the hospital?”

“Oh,” Claire said, opening her car and sliding into the driver’s seat. “I’m dropping her off at the Abernathy’s with a few provisions before work tomorrow. After I’ve taped all the windows, of course,” she added wryly.

“She’ll be alright?”

Claire sighed as she started the car. “She’s going to have to be.”

Her voice wavered, and she cursed herself.

“She’s never spent the night away from home. Will she no’ get upset?”

“I don’t really have much of a choice.” She was not defensive or angry, but resigned, sad. She didn’t want to leave Faith at someone else’s house, but she could not very well ask Gail to live with her toddler and child in her small apartment for an indeterminable amount of time. The fact that they’d opened their home to Faith was kind enough. She couldn’t very well ask it of Mrs. Lickett, either. Her children were older, but she still shouldn’t be away from them for that long during a potentially dangerous storm.

Jamie was silent on the other end, and as Claire turned onto the main road, something clenched in her throat. He couldn’t be upset with her, could he? He couldn’t be judging her decision, condemning her for planning to dump her child off during a natural disaster? Logic told her that of course he wouldn’t, but she was so god damned insecure about it all herself that she could not be calmed.

“You still there?”

“Aye,” he answered quickly. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

Claire swallowed. “What about?”

He paused again. “Tell me to shut my gab at any point going forward,” he began uncertainly.

Claire’s brow furrowed. “Ehm, alright…”

“What if…what if I stayed wi’ her. In her own home.”

Claire was gobsmacked. Her mouth actually dropped open in surprise.

“Please tell me no if ye’re truly no’ comfortable, Claire. I mean it. I ken it may be too soon, and I understand. I just thought to offer — ”

“Jamie,” Claire cut him off. “It’s okay…I…” She blinked away tears. “Would you really be alright doing that?”

“Aye,” he said quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly. “Anything I can do to make it easier fer her. It’s gonna be scary.”

Claire swallowed thickly. “She’s heard thunderstorms before.”

“I’m sure. But this willna be like anything she’s ever experienced. And Gail is lovely, truly, she’s a blessing fer ye both, but she’s…she’s no’ you.”

“And she’s not you,” Claire said, finishing for him what he likely was thinking but would never say.

“Claire, I’d never presume —”

“Well I would,” Claire said. “There’s no denying you have the experience that Gail lacks, Jamie. And Faith trusts you. And I trust you.”

He was silent, likely processing what she said. Claire turned into the employee parking lot.

“Besides,” Claire said with a chipper tone that was only slightly forced. “It’ll be good for her to have you all to herself. You’ve never been alone with her before.”

She heard him chuckle. “Aye. Ye think she’ll like that?”

Claire put her car in park, and her heart swelled, warming her from the inside out. “I really think she will.”

——

Jamie arrived the following morning with a duffle bag and a backpack. The sky was already gray, the air thick with the oncoming storm, the wind picking up. He’d half expected the skies to open up on his way there.

The door opened, and his heart cracked. Claire’s sweet, lovely “hello” included a smile, but he could see that frantic look in her eye. She was close to tears. He greeted her gently and then addressed the bouncing, squealing thing below them.

“Ah, yes, hello, wean.” He cupped her head gently to stop her bouncing. “I’m happy to see you, too, lass. Can ye fetch ballerina Minnie Mouse? I’d like to see her if ye dinna mind.”

Like a shot, she was off, eager to please Jamie, and Jamie pulled Claire into his arms. She clung to him tightly, breathing deeply into his neck.

“It’s times like these,” she began shakily, “that I believe Frank was right.”

His brow furrowed. “Whatever d’ye mean?”

“That I should’ve given it up, that I still should.” She sniffled. “I don’t know if I can leave her for several days during…during what they’re saying it’s going to be…”

“It’s alright, Sassenach.” He kissed the top of her head, and then Faith emerged from her room, waving the stuffed animal above her head. “Ah, thank ye, lass. What about…” He wracked his brain, trying to remember any of the dozens of toys she’d shown him. “Daisy Duck? Can I see her?”

She was off again, and Claire laughed wetly against him.

“Listen to me, Claire Beauchamp.” Jamie pulled far enough away so that he could tilt her chin up and look her in the eye. “Ye’re a doctor because it is what God put ye on this Earth to do. Ye’re a damn fine one, from what I gather. Ye’re going to help lots of people in the next few days, people that might have been much worse of wi’out ye.”

“What about the baby that He gave me?” Claire said hoarsely. “The baby with…so much that she needs from me…”

“It’s not just you,” Jamie said, with the most careful combination of firmness and gentleness he can muster. “No’ anymore.”

Claire rested her forehead against his, breathing deeply. “It’ll be alright,” he assured her, Faith puttering back in with the next toy. He praised her quietly, tucking Daisy under his arm with Minnie. “I will do everything in my power to see that she’s alright these next few days.”

“I know,” Claire said, then pressed her lips to his. “I know.”

Faith was reaching up, bouncing again impatiently. Jamie handed her back down her toys; evidently, she did not like them out of place for very long.

“I can’t thank you enough for this,” Claire said, squeezing his hands. “I think I’d be beside myself if I left her away from home. Well,” she laughed dryly, “more so than I already am.”

“It is an honor to ease yer burden, mo ghraidh.” He lifted their joined hands and kissed her knuckles fervently. 

Claire led him around the apartment to show him one last time where everything was kept; Faith’s vitamins and nighttime medicine, snacks, candles, spare batteries, matches. Jamie had remembered, but he let her show him all of it again to ease her mind. He knew it helped her feel like she had more control over the situation.

“Once the power goes out,” she said, gathering her own duffle bag with her overnight essentials. “Either soybean butter and jelly, cold cuts from that cooler that’s still in the fridge for as long as they’ll keep, or the spaghetti-o’s. Just pretend you’re using the microwave or something and she’ll never know the difference.”

Jamie nodded seriously, though he’d remembered all that, too.

“And watch her with the fridge. She’ll keep it open and stare in there looking for something which is bad enough when there is power. Make sure she doesn’t let the insulated coolness out if you can help it. Though if it’s gone for too long it’s a moot point.”

“Right. Got it.” Jamie nodded curtly. A large gust of wind howled outside, rattling the windows.

“Jesus.” Claire shuddered.

“Ye’d better get going before ye get stuck in the oncoming downpour,” Jamie said.

“Right.” Claire froze in the middle of the living room, her eyes glued to Faith, sitting cross-legged with Angus’s head in her lap, calmly stroking his fur. Jamie’s heart strained, and Claire looked like she might cry again. She exhaled heavily and crouched down next to Faith.

“Hey, baby.” She cupped her little head and smiled. Faith kept her attention on Angus, and Claire gently tapped her nose. “Can you look at me, Faith?” She did not, and so Claire took her hands off of Angus and held them between hers. Somewhat annoyed, Faith looked up at Claire, obviously waiting for her hands to be released. “Hi,” Claire said. “Remember what we said? Quiet hands, quiet feet, and quiet mouth for Jamie.” She pointed to each mentioned body part. “And listening ears on.” Claire poked each of her ears, one after the other. “Mummy will be gone for a few days, but Jamie is going to play with you, and keep you safe. It’s all going to be okay. It might get very dark, or very loud, and there might not be any tellie. But Jamie is going to make sure you’re okay. Yes?”

Faith moaned impatiently, and it was unclear if she was listening.

Jamie is going to make sure you’re okay.

Jamie’s chest involuntarily puffed out, and his back straightened. He silently and solemnly vowed to do just that.

“I’m going to miss you, lovie.” Claire cupped both of Faith’s cheeks. “I love you.” She held up the sign, and Faith mirrored her as always, pressing their foreheads together.

“I’m going to call every day. I’ll talk to you on the phone. I promise.” Claire pulled Faith in  for a hug, squeezing her tightly. “Big goodbye hugs,” she whispered into her hair.

When Claire released her, she stood up with a heavy sigh. Jamie was holding her duffle bag, and he walked her to the door.

“Please be careful,” Jamie said. “Text me when ye get there.”

“I will.”

He kissed her deeply, pressing her tightly to him. When their lips parted, he looked into her eyes, those swimming pools of amber and honey. On his tongue was something he’d known, something he’d been burning to unleash from within him since April.

I love you.

Instead, he swallowed thickly and kissed her forehead. “Drive safe, Sassenach.”

With one final squeeze of his hand and a reassuring smile, she was gone. Jamie ran a hand over his face before peeking out the window to make sure she pulled out of the driveway. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell her. Christ, he’d wanted to reply with it the second he watched that video; he’d wanted to tell her that day in the office, he’d wanted to tell her on the ferris wheel, the carousel, he’d wanted to tell her when she fell asleep and drooled on his shoulder halfway through The Godfather, he’d wanted to tell her when he’d finally positioned himself between her legs and entered her, and felt so completely fulfilled and complete, and every time he was in that position thereafter.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not until she was ready to hear it.

He knew she was scared; no matter how well this was going, he knew she was still worried and paranoid. He wouldn’t rush her.

A giggle pulled him out of that train of thought, and he realized that Claire’s car was long gone. It had also already started to rain, and it would definitely get nasty soon. He turned to see Faith grinning impishly down at Angus, who was licking Faith’s open palm over and over. This was something she did often, put her palm right at his snout and wait for him to oblige her. Jamie supposed she liked the tickling sensation. He smiled and made his way to the couch, sitting down and watching Faith with her loyal companion for a while.

Claire had given him a whole list of things that Mrs. Lickett usually does with Faith while Claire is gone for the day. There was play-doh, the big clunky legos (both good for fine motor), the flashcards for identifying signs, and of course coloring. On the list, Claire wrote that when Faith colored with Mrs. Lickett, Mrs. Lickett always — underlined several times — signed the color that Faith picked up. Color identification would be a big deal once she started school.

Something else that Jamie knew would come once school started was the school district-provided tablet for text to speech communication. Claire had been recommended speech therapies to get a head start on that, but she’d turned them all down, insisting that it was very important to her that Faith know how to sign before relying solely on the screen. And since Faith had proven capable, she’d stuck to that.

It amazed Jamie how Claire somehow just knew what was best for her child. Jamie saw all too often at the stables parents that had no idea what they were doing. Which was understandable and nothing to be judged about. But when he’d reach out, recommend additional services, hint that they might get more out of equine therapy if they approached certain things a different way, they didn’t want to hear it. It was hard to watch those kids regress because their parents weren’t willing to set their pride aside and admit they weren’t aware of something. But his reach only extended so far, and if he was going to sleep at night, he had to let those things off his conscience.

With Claire, if someone offered her advice, she could plainly tell them that she’d already researched that and had either tried it or decided it was not going to work, but thank you very much. Prompt speech therapy, for instance. If Jamie had a nickel every time Claire complained to him that yet another person had recommended Faith try it, he’d be quite the rich man. Prompt speech involved a lot of touching, and Faith would certainly not be okay with that. Even if it meant her daughter would never say a word, Claire would not put her through it. Not even an eval.

And Jamie admired the hell out of her for it.

After letting Faith continue with Angus for a bit, Jamie intervened and ushered her into the kitchen for some “structured play with learning benefits,” as Claire had referred to it. Faith, having never done any of the listed activities with Jamie, wanted to do every single one. They went on even longer than Jamie had anticipated she would sit still for because playing these games with Jamie was a novelty. They built a castle with a wall with her legos, made several snakes and desserts out of play-doh, colored, and worked on signs. Faith was not satisfied until every single card was flipped over and worked on. Jamie knew full well that she did not insist on such a thing with Mrs. Lickett. It made him grin smugly and melt at the same time.

It was pouring in earnest by the time Jamie finished getting through Faith’s stack of flashcards. Instinctually, he checked his messages from Claire, even though she’d told him hours ago by now that she’d gotten in safely. The wind was picking up, too, turning into a constant roar.

“Ye’re brilliant, Princess Faith,” Jamie said, giving her a thumbs up. “Ye did such great work today, lass. I’m so proud of you.”

She smiled cheekily and then reached for her crayons and princess coloring book again. Rain suddenly pelted against the kitchen window, the wind having changed direction to blast the water right into the glass. Faith dropped her crayon with a startled cry and clamped her hands over her ears. Jamie had to admit it even startled him.

“It’s alright, lass,” he crooned, getting out of his chair to kneel beside hers. He stroked her back soothingly. “Just the rain. It’s alright.”

She kept her eyes squeezed shut and her hands on her ears, so Jamie switched tactics. He scooped her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. He brought her out of the kitchen and deposited her on the couch. If the wind was blowing into the window in the back of the apartment, perhaps a similar noise would not happen in the front windows. He called Angus over when Faith still would not move or open her eyes, and after a few minutes of deep pressure, she at least opened her eyes. Jamie was then able to coax her into picking a DVD. They were on borrowed time until they lost power, so he thought it best to take advantage of the tellie while they still had it.

She ended up choosing a Winnie the Pooh movie, jabbing at it with her elbow, hands still on her ears. She didn’t even take them off to put the movie in the player, though she stood by and watched every move Jamie made as he did so instead. As the DVD started playing the previews before the “play” screen, Faith got behind Jamie and started pushing against his legs. He took this as his cue to walk, and he allowed her to push him into her bedroom. He knew immediately what she wanted. He smiled widely as he stepped into the room and picked up the enormous “Pooh Bear” that he’d won for her at the carnival. Faith hummed in excitement and bounced a little as Jamie carried the giant bear into the living room and deposited him on the couch. She skipped back into her room and Jamie gathered the rest of her Hundred-Acre Wood friends, arranging them around their giant leader.

A few minutes into the movie, Faith finally took her hands off her ears and began enjoying the movie in earnest. The wind continued to howl and the windows continued to rattle, but the movie drowned most of it out for now, as did Faith’s giggling and humming along to the little songs. At one point, she moved all of the little toys into Jamie’s lap and tipped over the giant bear so she could lay bodily on top of him. It really was practically a mattress underneath her. She nuzzled further in, humming contentedly and smiling broadly, bottom lip caught between her teeth. Jamie smiled down at her, her eyes fixed on the screen, and then he brought his legs up on the couch, cross-legged, so he could fit every toy she’d given him in his lap, holding onto them with as much care as he would if Faith herself was in his lap.

The power went out before the movie finished, close to the end if Jamie deduced correctly. Faith immediately sat up, nearly toppling off the couch because of her uneven position on the bear. Jamie felt dread settling in his gut, and he immediately wanted to kick himself. He’d made the wrong move, and he was about to pay dearly for it.

Faith slid off both bear and couch and marched right up to the tellie. She began pushing all the buttons on the tellie and the DVD player, the volume of her whining increasing. Jamie set aside her toys and approached her tentatively.

“Faith, it’s alright. Remember what Mummy said? That there might be no tellie?”

With a great wail, she began slapping her hands against the television screen, and Jamie grabbed her wrists.

“No, lass, ye canna do that. No hitting.”

She began screaming in earnest, jerking against him with all her might.

“I’m sorry, Faith. The tellie is all done. I’m sorry.”

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued to pull against his grip on her wrists. He swiftly picked her up under the arms and deposited her away from the electronics. She pointed at the tellie, bouncing impatiently, wailing all the while.

“Aye, lass. I ken. It’s my fault, I’m sorry.” Jamie genuinely hated himself at the moment. He thought they’d have time before the power was gone, he thought that it would be good for her to be able to watch a movie that wasn’t downloaded to her tablet. He should’ve thought of this possibility, and he should’ve known that she’d be grossly unhappy if the movie was unable to finish. It would drive her mad for hours, knowing that the movie was sitting unfinished in the player. She couldn’t even get it out of the player to put away. One of her biggest OCD triggers had gone off, and it was his fault.

Jamie wracked his brain. Claire had said if she were melting down to either give hugs and cuddles, or to deposit her in her room and let her scream it out. That is if Angus didn’t do the trick. Jamie tried for the hug, but narrowly avoided a swinging fist. Clearly she blamed him for the tellie’s sudden malfunction. As she should, he thought miserably.

He called Angus over just as Faith started swinging her arms with abandon, and Jamie caught one of her fists before it collided with a picture frame on the table behind the couch. She pushed at his hand, punched his arm, pulled backward, but Jamie knew that if he let go, she’d dive right for trouble and possibly break something. Angus arrived just as Faith sank her teeth into the skin of Jamie’s hand.

He swore in Gaelic, and then he pinched her nose shut, causing her mouth to immediately open as a reflex. Jamie shook his hand, hissing in pain, but he didn’t skip a beat. He maneuvered himself to be behind Faith, and he scooped up the photos in her reach. He stood back and let Angus do his job, shoving his bleeding hand into the pocket of his shorts to avoid dripping anywhere else. At least if it stained, it wouldn’t be where anyone could see.

Angus kept hopping up on his hind legs so he could brush his snout against Faith’s screaming face, gently patting her chest with his paw before falling to all fours again. Every time, Faith pushed him away with an indignant yelp, but he kept trying until she sank to the ground with him, tightly squeezing his neck. Jamie sighed with relief when girl and dog were settled in a pile on the floor. He took the opportunity to put a bandaid on his hand before it soaked through his pockets.

When he returned after being in the bathroom for mere seconds, Faith’s screaming had been reduced to a heartbreaking, whimpering sobbing. Angus used his front paws to stop Faith from scratching and hitting her face or pulling at her hair, and he started licking her palms to keep them otherwise occupied. Jamie sighed and quietly made his way to the kitchen, where he could sit down and still see her through the doorway. He kept his eyes glued to her, his leg jiggling and his left hand tapping on his thigh. The urge to press her to him for comfort was painfully strong. Ignoring the urge to comfort was just as painful as it had been with her mother, all those months ago, before he’d ever really held her.

Jamie’s eyes must have glazed over, either with tears or weariness, because when he blinked, Faith was standing right in front of him, still weeping quietly.

“Hi, leannan. What d’ye need?” He restrained himself from touching her. Her hands were laced in Angus’s fur, sitting dutifully beside her. “What d’ye need, Faith? Show me?”

She inhaled slowly with a great tremor, and on the exhale, she put her arms up in front of her with a long, drawn out whimper.

I need a hug.

He heard her, loud and clear.

“Oh, lass…” Jamie’s voice broke, and he practically sprang forward. “Come here…I’ve got ye.” He scooped her into his lap and hugged her tightly, rocking gently. “It’s alright, now. Ye’re alright. I’ve got ye. Dinna fash, now. It’s alright.”

Claire had said that during a meltdown she wouldn’t want to be touched, but that perhaps after, she’d need to be held. Jamie had thought about it, then brushed it off. This was his fault. It was clear she’d blamed him for the mishap. She’d bitten him, swatted at him. She’d take her comfort from Angus until she was calm, and then she’d ask to be fed. That was what he’d thought.

But here she was, clinging to his shirt and sputtering into his neck, wetting his collar.

“I know, mo chridhe, I know…” he soothed. “I’m sorry, leannan. It’s alright. I’m sorry…”

He continued to whisper such platitudes, in both English and Gaelic, rocking her and holding her tightly. He knew how silly his train of thought had been. He’d seen with his own eyes this exact same pattern of kids coming back again and again despite how much it seemed like they hated their parents or guardian. He was always the first to assure a parent that it was never personal, that the child just could not see past their distress and only wanted to swat at whatever was in the way.

But even the thought of Faith resenting him had made him sick, however briefly it came to him. He couldn’t mess this up; god, he just couldn’t.

She burrowed in further, nuzzling her wet cheek against his neck, and then her hands came up to caress his beard stubble. Jamie smiled involuntarily. He knew she liked how that felt. He let her rub her hands and arms all over his cheeks, even shaking his head back and forth so she could feel it across her skin.

And then, after an indeterminable amount of time, she was quiet.

——

Claire [9:22]: Made it here alive. Just in time it would seem. Have a good day. xx

Jamie [9:25]: glad to hear it. stay safe. good luck. xx

Jamie [10:03]: cheerios and a banana for breakfast. made sure she had milk too.

Jamie [10:03]: not in the cereal, mind. I ken she doesn’t like that.

Jamie [10:37]: *photo attachment*

Jamie [10:37]: look at the size of that castle :)

Jamie [11:16]: *photo attachment*

Jamie [11:16]: “snakes. why did it have to be snakes.”

Jamie [11:16]: since i ken you’re too busy to answer, i’m just going to trust that you got that reference.

Jamie [11:17]: don’t panic, they’re made of play-doh. lol.

Jamie [11:56]: *photo attachment*

Jamie [11:56]: the art gallery we’ve created today

Jamie [12:32]: *photo attachment*

Jamie [12:32]: the gang’s all here for movie time. bet ye can’t guess what we’re watching ;)

Jamie [12:32]: got through a bunch of signs cards today btw. she did great. very proud.

Claire [12:46]: Thanks for all the updates. Faith looks so happy in all these. You’re amazing Jamie. Thank you.

Jamie [2:17]: power went out a bit ago. wee meltdown, but she’s alright now. eating soybean butter and jelly. already picked oreos for her treat.

Claire [2:18]: I saw the word meltdown. Do you need me to call? Are you okay? Any blood or bruises?

Jamie [2:19]: everything is fine. angus did a great job. i swear she’s perfectly content now. back to work missy.

Jamie [3:24]: *photo attachment*

Jamie [3:24]: needed to hold the flashlight while she did this so i couldn’t help. shame. i love puzzles. can’t believe how dark it got.

Jamie [3:24]: she’s got the headphones on now. wind is really loud. hope everything is ok by you.

Claire [4:04]: I’ll be able to call at 7:30. If she starts asking for me, tell her that.

Jamie [4:05]: aye aye captain

Jamie [6:02]: dinner promptly at six. spaghetti-os.

Jamie [6:55]: *photo attachment*

Jamie [6:55]: a wee faerie in her den.

——

Jamie tucked his phone back in his pocket after sending the latest message, smiling contentedly. The “faerie den” was a fort of sheets in the living room, tall enough for Jamie to sit up. Draped around the edges above their heads were battery powered string lights that Jamie had picked up a few days ago. He’d also blown up the air mattress that he’d known Claire had (with a battery powered air pump), put on a fitted sheet, and piled it with blankets and pillows from both Faith’s bed and Claire’s bed. Claire had told him to sleep in her bed, so he’d assumed the pillows would be up for grabs to do with as he pleased.

Faith was absolutely enamored with it. The smallness of the space made her feel cozy and safe, and it also made it easy to illuminate, so it was very bright in there in an apartment that was otherwise very dark. The worst of the storm was happening right at that moment, and it was dark as night at six in the evening in August. If Faith hadn’t been wearing her headphones, she’d be inconsolable at the sound of the wind, the occasional crack of a tree, the rattling of the windows. But she was blissfully unaware, petting her dog in her faerie den, tablet at the ready.

After Claire’s phone call, Jamie pulled out his flashlight and led Faith to the bathroom to brush her teeth. On their way there, she tried turning on every light switch they passed, growing increasingly distressed the more she encountered that would not work. When they reached the bathroom, she flipped the switch an uncountable amount of times and then started crying. No matter what Jamie did, she would not allow him to brush her teeth; she just sat on the floor with Angus and cried inconsolably. Jamie brushed his own teeth to the sound of her wailing, and she only got off the floor when Jamie pushed aside one headphone and she heard the words “faerie den” in her ear.

She calmed down very quickly after she was settled back in her bright little safe space. Jamie quickly shot Claire a text that teeth-brushing did not go very well, but that he’d snagged the Risperdal and dropper from the medicine cabinet so he could give it to her without reminding her that the lights weren’t working.

Apparently, she’d be sleeping in the fort tonight. Jamie had anticipated the possibility, which is why he’d included the mattress, blankets, and pillows. The question was whether or not he’d be sleeping in there.

The answer came shortly after when Faith had fallen asleep in his lap at the end of the movie she’d put on for them to watch on her tablet: Brave. Jamie couldn’t hear since she was using her headphones to continue to block out the storm, but he watched it playing, laughing when she did, pointing at the screen and signing to her occasionally. It was a whole new experience, watching her watch it rather than watching it with her. The only audio he got was from Faith herself, humming along to the music. It made his heart ache with love.

They were nestled in a veritable nest of blankets and pillows when Faith fell asleep in his crossed legs, head resting against his heartbeat. For a moment, he told himself he would simply stay in that position all night, that it would be worth it if it brought her a good night’s sleep after the chaos of the day. But then his hip started cramping in the open position, and he remembered he hadn’t given her Risperdal yet. So he had to move. 

Cradling her like a tiny infant, he lifted her off his lap and laid her gently atop a free section of the air mattress. He commanded Angus to lay beside her and left the fort to put on the sleep clothes he’d brought in his duffle bag. Just as he got his shirt off, Faith started whining. He quickly finished dressing and crawled back into the fort.

“I’m here, leannan. I’m right here.”

Right. So he was definitely sleeping in there.

After coaxing her to take the dropper of her medicine, Jamie swiped a pillow off the air mattress. She began whining again.

“Come on, lass. I’m no’ going anywhere. See?” He settled in on his pillow, facing the air mattress and looking up at her. “Go back to sleep.”

She did, and Jamie flicked off three out of the four strings of lights inside the fort before laying down again, getting as comfortable as he could on the floor.

——

Jamie [9:02]: she’s asleep. we watched brave in the fort and she crashed. made sure she had her medicine.

Claire [9:11]:  Of course you watched Brave. That’s the one she associates with you.

Claire [9:11]: I’m in bed now myself. These cots are not nearly as comfortable as my bed. Especially when you’re in it.

Jamie [9:11]: don’t start talking about me being in your bed. not when i can’t do anything about it.

Claire [9:12]: ;)

Claire [9:12]: Really though, I’m about to crash myself. Sleep well, darling. Give Faith a kiss for me.

Jamie [9:12]: what about me?

Claire [9:12]: I think you know exactly what you can give yourself. From me.

Claire [9:12]: ;)

Claire [9:12]: Goodnight, Jamie.

Jamie: [9:12]: goodnight sassenach

[monst]

Tidying up.

Aizawa Shouta x Reader

Quirless Au 

Warnings: Mild angst themes (Like super mild), Fluff, Dadzawa, Part 1 of ? (Listen this idea suddenly hit me and I needed to write it okay?)

You hated this job.

Your knuckles rasped against the wood grained door, your feet tapping on the worn welcome mat. Your brows furrowed after a moment of waiting, lifting up your phone you double checked the time and address. Just as you were about to press the button to lock your phone the door creaked open. A cheery smile lit your features as you prepared to introduce yourself. 

“I didn’t call you, please leave.” The tall raggedy man grumbled. 

Your smile dropped, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. You had dealt with rude customers before but never one so...blunt. You were about to attempt to speak when the door was promptly shut…. ‘Well then.’ You huffed indignantly. You were about to knock again, lips pulled down in a scowl as you thought up a variety of insults in case he opened up again.”I drove a whole ass hour to get here, I had other things to do, this scruffy looking bum dares.” You muttered, fist raised, tongue ready to lash out in frustration. 

Once again you were cut off by the door opening, and you quickly dropped your hand. A tired lanky teenager stood in front of you lavender iris ringed with dark shadows. ‘Damn, someone get this kid some nyquil.’ You thought a polite smile sliding onto your face. The tired looking teen ran his pale fingers through his plum colored hair, a sheepish smile on his face. 

“I’m sorry about that Ma’am.” He sighed. “My father’s a bit of a recluse…”

“Let me guess. You called?” You sighed, when he nodded. This wasn’t a first for you, kids usually called your mother’s cleaning service when they’re parents were….unable. He opened the door wider and allowed you and all of your supplies into the house…. ‘Dear god what natural disaster passed through here.’ 

“Sorry about all the mess, Dad’s been in a rough place for a while and well I’ve been too busy to.. Well you know.” He shrugged ushering to the nasty looking home. 

“Right…” You hummed. Looking around to see where you would begin. 

“So, I already paid in advance.” He added showing you the cash app. You nodded and watched as he shrugged on a jacket. He was about to head out when you cleared your throat. “Oh right, So Eri’s room is always clean and, His room is a no go zone.” 

You nodded once more, slipping on a pair of gloves. The child left with a wave muttering about getting to the elementary school on time. Your smile quickly faded once he was out the door, a scowl claiming your lips as you began to pick up trash. An ugly feeling washed over you as you thought of the kid’s father. ‘Lazy, repulsive asshole.’ You summarized. You absolutely loathed people like that. “Forcing his kid to take up so much responsibility.” You grumbled. 

“What a prick.” You huffed, moving the heavy bags to the corner of the door. You continued to clean the rest of the place, scrubbing stains out of walls, washing food off dishes, sweeping, mopping, retching at the putrid stench of the main level bathroom. Once the main floor was done, you set up the stairs towards the bedrooms. 

‘Eri’ You read the cursive name on the pink and white plaque. You opened the door and hummed. It was clean. ‘I wonder if she cleans it herself or her brother does.’ You mused grabbing the hamper in which she kept her dirty clothes. You lightly cleaned her relatively clean bathroom and walked off to the purple haired kid’s room. You found nothing unusual. A couple clothes on the floor, scrunched up balls of paper overflowing from a small trash can and junk food wrappers. What did stand out was a picture he had on his desk. It was the same as the one in the living room. ‘Cute.’ You thought looking at the two kids standing by their father. 

“Heh he’s actually not half bad looking.” You mumbled looking at the clean shaven man in the photo. 

It wasn’t long before you were in their basement, clothes rolling in the wash while you stretched. ‘There goes my saturday’ You sighed, looking at the golden light of sunset from a recently cleaned window. You heard the door open upstairs. 

“Woah~ Toshi-nii it’s so clean!” You heard a childish voice squeal. 

‘Of course it’s clean I worked my ass off.’ You scoffed bitterly. 

“Ms. (Lastname)?” You heard the teenager call out. 

“Down here kid.” You called back, feeding the drying machine an armful of dark muted colors. 

Two pairs of feet walked down the narrow steps and you soon found yourself looking down at a cute cotton-candied haired girl. Her large ruby eyes threw you off. ‘Different mothers?’ You thought. “The place looks a lot better, thank you.” The polite teenager bowed. 

“Yes Thank you!” The smaller child chimed. “I think daddy’s going to feel much better now right Toshi-nii?” She looked up at him for confirmation. 

“Yeah.” He replied. “Thanks again.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” You chuckled sheepishly “I’m just doing my job.” 

They nodded in understanding, chatting idly as you finished the laundry. They spoke about mindless things, Eri told you tales of what her class did while the kid you now knew as Shinsou Hitoshi carried the folded clothes up the stairs and to their respected rooms. Thankfully it was finally time for you to leave. The siblings saw you to the door, grateful smiles on their lips. 

“You're coming back next saturday right?” Eri asked, you nodded tiredly. 

.

.

.

.

The next Saturday arrived much sooner than expected much to your dismay. You had been busy all week submitting resumes and cover letters but you hadn’t heard back from anyone. You parked in front of the two story household and you briefly wondered how the family inside was doing. Then you thought of the two sweet kids and their neglectful father… 

“Ughh” You rolled your eyes and slid out of your car. This time Eri opened the door a smile on her cherubic face. 

“Hello again Ms.(Lastname).” She chimed. 

“Hey.” You greeted, your hand coming down to pat her head. To your relief the house was much tidier than last time and it looked like you would be out much sooner than last time. That made you happy. You decided to start in the kitchen today. You passed the threshold of the kitchen when you noticed that the rest of the household occupied the space. 

“No.” You heard the man groan, he was seated on a stool overlooking the purple haired kid. “Do it gently so that the shells don’t all fall in.” 

“You make it sound so easy.” Shinsou huffed. The teenager sighed irritably. “I’m not cut out for this.” The dark haired man chuckled, the kid’s cheeks flushing pink in embrasement. 

“I’ll do it.” He suggested. “I’m sure we’d all like to eat breakfast before noon.” He teased. 

“No I got it.” Shinou insisted, it was then that you saw his eyes shift to an object. You followed his gaze to stare at the crutches leaning against the counter… ‘Oh…’ 

“Toshi! Daddy! Ms. (Lastname) is here.” Eri interrupted. You felt the change in atmosphere immediately. A dark cloud seemed to hang over the man now, his posture tense a clipped hello slipping past his lips. 

“Morning.” Shinsou greeted. 

“Morning.” You repeated, side eyeing the silent man. “I’ll get started upstairs.” You quickly excused yourself, your heart dropping to your feet. Shame washed over you, filling your veins with an icy-hot concoction. You hadn’t noticed but Eri followed after you, surprising you when she spoke. 

“It happened recently.” She mumbled. “...Daddy’s leg.” She clarified. 

“...I see…” You didn’t know what to say to the little girl. As you cleaned you couldn’t help but feel guilt eat at your bones. ‘I’m a fucking idiot, judging people right off the bat like that.’ Suddenly a lot made sense. 

“C-can I help?” You smiled at the child. 

“I dunno Eri-chan.” You mused. 

“Please?” 

Your resolve crumbled once she gave you a look that should be illegal. There wasn’t much to clean but that was okay. Eri was a cheery child and her silly stories helped pass the time. That was until you heard her tummy rumble. 

“You should go down and eat.” She shook her head, her brows furrowing in...disgust. 

“Toshi-nii is cooking.” She grimaced. 

“That bad?” You laughed. She nodded somberly. Your conversation was cut off when you heard a loud crash coming from downstairs. 

Alarmed both you and Eri rushed downstairs towards the kitchen. You found yourself caught in their family drama, Eri was in tears, Shinsou’s eyes were turned up in hurt and worry and their father Aizawa Shouta? He was on the ground, his prosthetic a couple of feet away. 

“Da-”

“Don’t, I can do it myself.” The man shouted, the children flinching at his desperate tone. You didn’t like to intervene in other’s lives especially not your mother’s clients but well you felt...bad? Dropping your gloves onto the counter you leaned down to help the man back up. His dark eyes glared at you, lips parting to speak. 

“Shut up.” you grunted before he could even sound a syllable. He was heavy and surprisingly thick. Shinsou quickly went to his other side, supporting his father up onto a chair. Once he was seated he rested his head onto his hand, dark locks covering his face. 

Eri pressed to his side, small arms hugging him, while Shinsou went to grab the prosthetic…. You suddenly felt awkwardly out of place. You were basically spectating watching as his arm came around Eri and when Shinsou’s arm wrapped around his shoulder he held in tightly an apology slipping past his lips. 

“It’s okay dad.” Shinsou sighed. “It’s hard I know.”

Aizawa didn’t answer, and you went to retrieve their first aid kid. After that incident the scruffy man ordered Ihop for breakfast. 

.

.

.

You thought of them throughout that week. They were a small little broken family but.. Ultimately they were going to be okay, they were healing. Your week was uneventful once more, your mother pushing you to become more involved in her cleaning company. You had other plans but still no call backs.  

The two story house looked more inviting that saturday. You were surprised to see the man of the house open the door. He wasn’t really talkative but he ushered you to the master bedroom. It wasn’t as bad as you had thought. You vacuumed the carpet, washed and changed the sheets. You were relieved that he hadn’t stayed to watch you clean his room. 

‘He’s kinda scary.’ You thought, allowing his silent disposition to jar you. ‘But he was really good with his kids so he’s not as bad as I thought.’ You left his room after it met your standards and walked down to the basement to get the rest of his clothes out of the drying machine. To your surprise you found something laying inside one of the baskets. 

“A..cat?” You mused. “How come I haven’t seen you around.” Squatting down you allowed the fluffy kitty to sniff your fingers, a smile coming to your lips when the cat rubbed its head against your hand. Happy purrs shook the furry critters body, you hadn't noticed but Shinsou had walked down the stairs. 

“Oh hey (Name).” After last saturday you had left asking the kids to just call you by your first name.

“When did you guys get a cat?” You asked scratching the kitty’s head, both hands coming to lovingly squish the feline’s head. 

“We’ve had her for a while.” He laughed. “She just loves to hide.” 

“Then how come I didn’t see her litter?” You mused. 

“.....It’s hidden, you know the plant in the living room?” You nodded. “The pot is the box, it’s the only thing we make sure is always clean.” He shrugged. 

“Huh. I never noticed.” You shrugged. 

“That’s ‘cause your head’s always in the clouds.” He stated. “That’s not to say you're doing a bad job, it's just that you always look like you're not here or don’t want to be here. Sorry that was rude.” 

“No it’s okay don’t apologize.” You sighed, stoking the cat’s soft fur, chuckling when she nipped your fingers. 

“So you don’t want to be here?” He asked.

“Not really.” You sighed. “Cleaning isn’t my ideal job but it’s what’s paying the bills.” You shrugged. “Adult life ain’t what it’s all cracked up to be.” You laughed. 

He didn’t ask anymore questions and thus your time in their household was brief that saturday…..

.

.

.

.

“Morning.” You greeted the family, they were crowded in the kitchen watching as Shinsou burned an egg. You laughed when the fire alarm went off and you grabbed a cloth to wave the smoke and silence it. “I see you're still bad at cooking.”

He rolled his eyes muttering under his breath, Aizawa and Eri laughed much to his chagrin. “Ugh dad makes it look easy.” 

“That’s because it is.” You found yourself speaking in time with Aizawa’s deep baritone. Your face heated up in embarrassment and you looked away from him. 

“Then you do it.” The purple haired kid scoffed. 

“And give you a free meal?” You asked. 

“Yes please.” Eri whined. “Anything but burt eggs and toast. Please (Name)” 

“I-”

“You don’t have to Ms. (Name).” Shouta’s deep voice rumbled. “And you two don’t need to add onto her workload here.” 

“N-No it’s no issue.” You flustered. “It’s the least I could do.” ‘Afterall you did increase my pay.’ 

“Finally! Something edible!” Eri cheered as she dug into her food. You felt a bit strange sitting there at the table with them. Shinsou reigned in his snark.

“This is actually really good.” He mumbled. 

“Yeah, we haven’t had a breakfast like this in a while.” Eri added. You cringed at the wording, your eyes shifting to the dark haired man. If the words had affected him, he was very good at hiding it you noted. The comment flew by without anyone questioning it but you made out the way his jaw clenched. 

After cleaning up you continued onto the house. It seemed like each saturday there was less to and less to do. Work flew by with Eri or Shinsou’s idle chatter. 

“And then Mrs. Rei said that my drawing was the bestest drawing in the whole class!” Eri grinned proudly. 

“Really?” You added enthusiastically. 

“Yup!” Silence reigned for a moment until she asked another question. “Ms. (Name)?”

“Hm?”

“Are you married?” She asked innocently. 

“No.” You laughed. 

“Why not? You're really nice and pretty.” She pondered.

“Well… I was engaged once.” You hummed, setting another folded pants on top of an ever growing pile. 

“What happened?” She asked. 

“...It..It didn’t work out.” You mumbled. “..But never mind that you said you had a play next sunday?”

“Yes, You should come see. Daddy and Shinsou are coming too!” 

.

.

.

.

You buried your face into your hands and groaned. It’s been months and no one would take you on. Not even the Mcdonalds!? ‘It would be wise if you’d just stay in the background, playing nice with cleaning chemicals.’ 

“When are you going to give up (Name)?” You heard your mother chime. 

“Never.” You muttered tiredly. 

“....Look, I know he ruined every other avenue of work for you but at least you still have this.” She tried to console. 

“This!? This mother! I’m fucking tired of this!? I have a fucking degree, I have expirence! I had a life!? And I want it back!?” You shouted. “I don’t want to clean toilets and wash windows for the rest of my life!?!”

Your mother frowned, her hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “I know.” She whispered her arms wrapping around your trembling form. “Trust me sweetheart if there was any other way I could help you I would...and I’m sorry… this is the best I can do.”

“I’m sorry.” You cried. After a while you had calmed down. Your mother suggested you go out on a walk to clear your head. You decided to kill two birds with one stone and went to grab groceries. 

You cursed your ex as you strolled down the aisles of the produce section. “Motherfucking asshole ruining my life ‘cause his bitch ass was fucking chea- Adikndeubfo” The word that left your mouth surprised the tall man infront of you. He was in slight awe at how you were able to vocalize that sound…

“Evening Ms.(Name).” Aizawa’s lazy voice lolled. 

“M-Mr. Aizawa.” You flushed. ‘Shit I think he heard that!?!??!!?’ You shreeched internally. 

“Didn’t know you liked to curse out fruit.” He chuckled, adjusting his grip on his cane.

            You were grateful that he didn’t question you about what you were fiercely muttering. You looked around him trying to spot his kids. 

“Just me.” He smiled. “Well and a friend.” 

“Friend? Oops sorry that came out wrong.” You laughed sheepishly. 

“Hard to believe?” ‘Is he….Joking around right now?’ A smile curved your lips as another apology slipped past your lips. “An old friend dragged me out.” He found himself explaining as he walked along with you. You had noticed that he was getting better at walking with his prosthetic, soon he wouldn’t even need his cane. 

“(Name)?” You were broken out of your trance. 

“W-what?” You asked. “Sorry I spaced out for a second.”

“Right. I just.. I wanted to thank you.” 

“What for?” Your brows were furrowed in confusion. 

“Doing more than what your job required.” He said vaguely, he left your side with a wave as he approached a blonde haired man who argued about a cereal brand with a bluenette. 

.

.

.

.

“Oh you met his friends?” Shinsou mused as he stirred the pot with intense focus. 

“Yeah, one of them looked really familiar.” You hummed as you mopped the floor. “Did you make sure to taste it?”

“He’s a radio host and, yes I did. But i’m not sure if it has enough salt.” You opened a drawer and pulled out a spoon dipping it into the thick liquid that he was stirring. 

“Wow.” You breathed. “It’s actually good.” 

“Ha. Ha.” He huffed. 

You left the kid to his own devices and walked to the living room where ‘Hana’ laid curled up in Aizawa’s lap. Her eyes were two curved lines as she slept, Shouta’s hand barely resting on her form, his other arm wrapped around a sleeping Eri. 

“Let me guess you let her stay up late last night?” You teased. His sigh told you all you needed to know and you laughed. 

“You can’t keep letting Eri do whatever she wants.” You heard Shinsou call from the kitchen. 

The smile on Aizawa’s face made your heart thump, and you quickly looked away from the warm smile. It wasn’t directed at you but it was completely heart melting. Hana rolled out of his lap as he made to stand up, his arms going underneath Eri’s small form, Strong arms lifting the child with ease. 

“I guess she can sleep in a bit more.” He mumbled, there was a slight limp in his step but otherwise he made it up the stairs with relative ease, you trailed behind him opening Eri’s door so that he could set her on her bed. His hand pet her hair tenderly and you remembered how ill you thought of him before. 

“You know… It was Oboro who pitched the idea to Hitoshi.” He began.

“What idea?” You whispered. 

“To hire someone to clean up the place… I was.. I was in a really dark place after the accident and I felt so damn useless. I was failing my kids.” He sighed. “I’m glad you didn’t leave when I shut the door on you that day. Which reminds me I never apologized for that.”

“It’s water under the bridge Mr. A-

“Shouta.” He corrected. 

“Shouta.” You repeated, your face catching warmth. 

“I owe you a lot Ms. (Name), No don’t say it’s just your job, it isn’t your job to speak with my kids, to teach Shinsou how to cook, to help with shopping and to spend all the time you do here.” 

‘I’ve been spending a lot of time here lately haven’t I?’ You mused as his words sunk in. In all honestly you began to grow fond of this family. 

“(Name).” You looked towards him. 

“If there is anything you ever need, if it’s within my power I’ll help you without a second thought.” He said earnestly. 

“T-Thank you..” 

“No, thank you… for tidying up.” You slapped your palm to your face at the pun, a smile on your face. 

“Please don’t” You laughed. Shouta then pressed his index finger to his lips, eyeing the sleeping Eri. You covered your mouth, looking to see if she had stirred, just as you were about to let out a sigh of relief-

“Yo! Shouta~ We’re here!” 

“What smells this good?” 

And Eri was then awake…. You couldn’t help but laugh when the dark haired man dragged his hand down his face with a sigh. 

…..Maybe this job wasn’t so bad...

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa fluff #eraserhead x reader #Written on a whim

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost • main masterlist • taglist & faq

previously on...

Chapter 3 is finally here. Sorcerers need their shopping done, too. Beyonce/Wong platonic ship (joking)! And finally some action, more witchy stuff. Bucky whump because I have a saviour complex. Stucky cuteness moment. Some blood/gore in this chapter.

My insides clenched, seeing the yellow and blue notice taped to my door - the building manager rarely left notes, so whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. I had managed to wind myself up into an anxious frenzy by the time I had gone inside and locked my door behind me, immediately thinking I would have to exhaust myself by turning to magic to keep a roof over my head.

For once, the news turned out to be positive: a neighbor was being evicted and turned in to the police for stealing packages. The building manager urged the tenants to report any missing items and apply for a refund when possible, apologizing for the inconvenience. I wondered what prompted this, basically unheard of in NYC, act of kindness as my altar stared at me with mocking amusement, pointing out the obvious by its mere presence.

Grinning to myself, I texted Odette - predictably, she was happy for me, happy that my protection spell had turned out strong and steady, and added a few tips of her own for my spell to stay that way. It felt like I'd grown invisible wings, those days, with all the possibilities open - and never once did I let myself entertain a thought of getting back at an enemy of the past for longer than five seconds.

Sure, it was perfectly human to consider making the cheating ex go bankrupt or make sure the college professor, that failed a couple of students each semester as a 'reality check', trips and face-plants at least once a day... I mean, who wouldn't experience a malicious sort of joy from petty revenge?

But I found my powers were best applied with a positive result in mind. My friend's cat was the first test rat- I mean, living creature I had practiced my healing spells on. The eleven year old kitty was struggling and both me and my friend loved the critter dearly - so the short, but tiring spell I performed yielded exactly the results I was expecting. Odette said something about genuine love backing up the magic, and- well, Dumbledore much?

On humans, it turned out, it wasn't nearly as simple. I didn't know what I had expected would happen after performing nothing short of a whole improv-performace type of ritual right in front of my very puzzled but hopeful friend with chronic asthma, but it wasn't the sheer exhaustion that ran bone-deep and left me bedridden for a whole day.

Odette visited my dingy apartment with her signature enormous purse full of vials she spoon-fed me and trinkets she strategically placed in and around my immediate sleeping area. "There, there," the woman patted my head as I pitifully moaned at the ear-splitting headache. "The first one is always the most challenging. After all, if it would be easy, everyone would do it."

I understood that. But at the same time, it felt unfair that no good deed went unpunished. I told Odette so, raising my voice to the best of my ability as she rummaged around my kitchen.

"Nothing in this world comes out of thin air, whatever you decide to give has to be taken from somewhere," she explained patiently. "People like us are considered hedge witches. We do solitary work and draw most of our energy from the Earth, from mother Nature. We cannot perform miracles, however, the cost of our spells are very low," I felt an immediate peak of interest at the simple yet effective explaination she gave me. "We remain mostly human. Gaia* is kind and generous to the ones who pay respect," Odette continued over the clatter of pans and pots. "There are other kinds of witches - who take from other people, who take from the dead. But taking something by force always leaves scars and taking something from the dead means bringing a piece of them back to places it should not be."

I pondered the words as Odette brought the kettle to a boil, the whistling shriek piercing through my skull like a sharp projectile. "What about Voodoo practitioners?" I couldn't hold back my curiosity.

Odette cleared her throat. "What is left of them is mostly not human. Their gifts are great but the costs are greater. They can live far, far longer than the average witch but their souls will know no peace, just like the souls of the dead they anchor to themselves over time," Odette entered the room with a bowl of tangy, creamy liquid that smelled like pumpkin soup. "We do not bestow any judgement upon our brothers and sisters but it is our duty to inform the young." She cast a pointed glance towards me, passing me the soup and a wooden spoon I didn't know I had. "This should help you recover. Take tomorrow off if needs be."

She left shortly afterwards and I hadn't much strength than to use the bathroom, wash the rune-engraved spoon and curl up in my bed, only waking up when the meager light shone over my face from the window. Sleepy and fog-tinted, the early morning NYC was damp and windy as I stuck my head out of the window to soak my sleep-heated head in the cool air.

As uneventful as the day at the café was, I still wasn't up to 100% energy-wise, but the long walk from Jeremy's to Odette's was pleasantly invigorating. I didn't find the cold autumn moisture displeasing; the small raindrops kept me awake and alert. Odette nodded in muted pleasure as I clocked in and returned the special spoon back to her. The runes on it were interesting; I had taken a picture of them for research purposes, fully intending to craft myself something similar.

"Odette has taken on an apprentice," Wong's voice had me take in several deep breaths in preparation for the inevitable fuck-fest on my patience. "She has been avoiding me. And the girl is painfully slow."

I didn't hear the answer of Wong's companion over the rustling of the boxes I was hastily shoving in their places before the Asian man's temper grew foul. More foul. Ugh. The sharp ding of the bell had me yelling a, "Just a second please, I'll be right with you," while trying to keep my tone polite.

Wong's sour face and a list of items required greeted me as I flew out of the backrooms, noticing the locked doors of Odette's office on my way out. Wong's companion stood at the far end of the store - his robes quite different from the ones I'd seen people of their kind wear, his lithe, tall figure seeming strangely familiar. I squinted my eyes at his back. "Is this all you need?" I waved the list around, increasing the volume of my voice.

The tall man turned around and I could only gape. He, in turn, also froze, the stern, unfriendly expression losing heat and giving way to perplexed wonder. "I had placed an order, for sorcerer Strange," Tony's boyfriend eyed me somewhat sheepishly under Wong's concerned gaze.

I nodded, eyeing Wong in turn, letting satisfaction nestle a warm ball in my chest. Stephen's look of displeasure had turned onto his... Colleague. By the time I finished retrieving Strange's order and packing up the items on Wong's list, the Asian man had left, leaving Stephen to sheepishly pretend to examine the books on the furthest shelf. I waved the paper bags as he took long strides towards me, his fancy, large necklace glimmering under the lights.

"So, how long have you been working here?" Sorcerer Strange asked after I told him the total.

The cash register beeped loudly, coins clattering on the desk as I counted out his change. "Some time now," I shrugged noncommittally. I felt his magnetic eyes gloss over my adornments, the star necklace, the various rings; I could practically feel him coming to his own conclusions. "Long enough for your colleague to get an attitude with me," I had to make sure he knew I would be taking no bullshit from him - or anyone else, for that matter. Odette's opinion on his kind was firm and I was heavily inclined to agree.

"Hmm, I see," Strange was equally as keen on hiding his curiosity. It was a funny thing, really, that we, being adults that we were, treated this encounter like some sort of a dirty secret. "Don't take it personally. Wong is like that with everyone," The man briefly scratched his beard with a gloved hand before pocketing his change and picking up the bags. "Except Beyoncè, maybe," the wink he threw me was positively mischievous as it caught me off-guard, giving him a fox-like appearance.

I sighed as the door shut behind him. Pretty white boys - the ultimate human disasters.

I had no time to dwell on them, however, as something - or someone, hit downtown with all the malicious intentions to wreak havoc on the innocent civilians calmly going about their day. Mutants and people who knew Odette came in hordes, scrapes and bruises and strange wounds that required imminent healing.

My boss was no rookie, she dutifully accepted each and every single soul, looking worse for wear with each minute. Not being able to withstand seeing her drain herself, I simply took over the simplest tasks - and she said nothing, just gave me a nod, instructed to use whatever I needed and write it down somewhere along with the name of the person who required the healing.

As the battle raged, the crowds thinned but the ones who managed to come to Odette's spouted more serious wounds, obviously a result of them fighting back. Mutants covered head to toe with coats and hats and robes, for me to swallow my shock when they undressed - horns, tails and weird skin textures were on the far end of the normal. I dutifully extracted small pieces of information from each and every person I treated.

Yes, the Avengers were winning. No, there aren't many people hurt, most of the damage is cosmetic. Yes, the villain of the week is as stupid as usual. It was like a mantra. Odette poked her head into the spare room every now and then, her eagle eyes briefly scanning over me to make sure I wasn't exterting myself.

As I applied the healing salve to a tiny, pink-skinned woman, bandaging up her hands, my boss entered and closed the door behind her, setting down on the creaky chair with a loud thud. "Just got the news, the Avengers apprehended the terrorist," she sighed long and slow. "We've done all we could, the next few days I'll be handling house calls so you'll be here on your own. I'll probably see you in a few days, don't hesitate to give me a call if something comes up," Odette seemed to be barely standing up, yet when she tore off a few pieces of her jewelry and chucked them into a big tin can under the sink, the glossy sheen in her eyes melted away.

"Okay," I mumbled under the watchful eyes of the mutant woman. "Will there be more people coming in today?"

"No," the woman in front of me snorted. "SHIELD is prowling the streets. They are not fond of us, they always say we intervene unnecessarily even though we willingly do their dirty work so our children could be safe," the bitter, harsh tone took me off-guard.

I had to admit, there was reason behind her words. "Will you be able to get home safely? I have a puffy coat and a hat you can borrow." Figuring an expensive taxi ride would be a better alternative to something terrible happening to the woman, I offered her my winter clothes.

She smiled at me, razor blade teeth and large, red eyes the kindest I'd ever seen on a person. In the end, she took the clothes, promising to bring them back in a few days and Odette gave me a parka that was too small for her frame - despite it smelling like someone's grandma's attic, I found it to be quite lovely vintage. The puffy knitted scarf she added felt like warmth and safety - she had to have knitted it herself, for I knew, handmade items carried a significant amount of energy in them.

The shop was eerily quiet as I cleaned and scrubbed the stained, dirty floors and disposed of the bloody clothes and bandages in the tiny, odd fireplace in Odette's office - that was a thing most peculiar, it burned everything I put in it, but had no chimney, no place for the smoke to exit. Magic.

Something banged loudly against the entrance door. I let out a startled shriek, broomstick falling out of my hand and adding to the sudden cacophony of noise as the figure behind the stained glass slowly slid down the door, a deep, male voice groaning something incomprehensible loud enough for me to hear.

Grabbing a large serrated knife we used for mincing the bones of small animals, I made quiet steps towards the door, seeing a large, obviously humanoid figure helplessly lean on the door. The man's arm glinted chrome black and gunmetal grey in the low light. "Sargent Barnes? Bucky?" I whisper-shouted, carefully plying open the door.

He lifted his head, blood dripping down from it, his face looked like someone went to town on it with a meat mullet, his eyes were unfocused and couldn't keep a straight line. His flesh arm leaned heavily on the door frame, the prosthetic hanging limply, dragging his whole body to its side. It must've weigh a ton.

"Я должен найти капитана Роджерса," he whispered.

I didn't understand Russian at all but I could make out the name of his boyfriend. Which made sense. Bucky looked severely concussed - I idly wondered what exactly they had been fighting, what could have given a freaking super-soldier such a brain-leaking injury. "Sargent Barnes, follow me," I put on my big girl shoes and used my momma bear voice, towing the man behind me.

He, too, weighed a ton, as I stumbled, helping him into the chair in the spare room that became my healing station for today. The longer I looked at Bucky, the less lucid he grew, eyes falling shut as he murmured something in jagged Russian, slurring his words.

There was no time to think about the consequences of exposure of my witchcraft; mortar and pestle, herbs and salves flying everywhere, I assembled a healing spell and memorized the according ritual in what felt like record time. He was bleeding all over the chair, fresh crimson blood pouring out of his nose and mouth and it was all I could see.

I hadn't known true terror until the blood that poured out turned black. Whatever it was in him, it was poisonous - my protection charms grew hot, scalding as they left marks on my skin; powering through the pain and unable to turn my eyes off the convulsing Barnes, I finished the chant just as the flow of vile, tar-like liquid suddenly ceased. It pooled around his feet, dripped down the armrests and matted his long hair. It reeked, too, of copper and putrid meat.

Bucky had passed out somewhere mid-spell, the slow, steady breathing bringing me my own sense of calm. To say that I was drained would be an understatement - my vision swam and my world spun on it's axis as I unlocked Odette's office to messily rummage through a cabinet for the emergency tonic I knew she kept there. I chugged the vial, an avalanche of almost anxious, jittery energy hit me like a freight train - exactly what I needed.

I bought myself a couple hours of time. Cleaning up the sludge around Bucky's feet and removing the outer parts of his gear was easy as he remained as relaxed as a cooked spaghetti noodle. The amount of weapons he had on him was impressive, but those weren't what I was looking for - his phone. It was dead, so I plugged it in, waiting for the 5% to show and bringing it to his fingertips, hoping he used the print recognition instead of the password option... And I lucked out.

"Hello, this is Star, I found a Bucky. Tell Dr. Strange to come get him, he knows where I am." I texted the "Stevie ❤️" contact, my inner fangirl self squealing at the dorky name of his boyfriend's contact in Bucky's phone. Shortly afterwards, I went ahead and snapped a picture of myself next to sleeping Bucky, figuring out some actual proof wouldn't do any harm in this bizarre situation.

The answer didn't let me wait long. "10 minutes" came the first text, and shortly afterwards - "Is Bucky okay??????". I had to snort at the amount of question marks before honestly replying "He will be ☺️" and putting the phone back in Bucky's pocket. I cleaned up and attempted to lift Bucky up, succeeding in waking him up into a half-lucid state, probably courtesy of decades of training and whatnot, to at least drag him to the front of the store. I wasn't particularly comfortable with strangers seeing the backrooms.

Bucky leaned with his back against the counter, ass flat on the floor and a towel with a cold compress pressed to his head when the doors all but flew open, revealing Captain Rogers, still in uniform and Stephen Strange, arguing with his boyfriend, both still suited up and bloody and grimy.

"Uhh," I blinked owlishly, causing the men to stop bickering and stare first at me, then at Bucky. "I think he hit his head," I offered weakly, backing up slightly at the amount of burning eyes staring at me.

"Shortcake, that you?" Tony's eyebrows rose as he surveyed the bodega, the items on the shelves, the black and red blood stains on my previously pristine, yellow shirt.

"Now is not the time, Tony. Go with Rogers, make sure the medical is prepared for Barnes and disable his arm," Strange barked out authoritatively, shooting me a puzzled but compassionate look. "The portal is open. I'll talk to Star, find out what happened." He advanced towards me as Captain picked up Bucky bridal-style as tenderly as he could while making sure the compress stayed on.

"Keep that tone fo the bedroom," Tony's voice was more than displeased as he shot me and Strange a hurt look, but followed Steve into the golden circle right outside the door before it sparked shut.

"Now, now, what happened here?" The sorcerer's voice lowered into a soothing drawl as I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. My shoulders sagged, fingers twitching with anxious energy. The man extended a gloved hand, briefly squeezing my shoulder. "It's alright, take your time."

Damn, did I look that bad?

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites

#bun writes #practical alchemy #tony stark x reader x stephen strange #tony stark x reader #Stephen Strange x reader

[aliwritesfic]

So since you did the cutest job with my mini golf ask…wondering what the TF boys would be like while tie dying with Frankie and his daughter?! I’m attempting to do that tomorrow with my son lol. Please and thank you if you’d like to explore the idea. 🥰😘

First of all, I am SO SORRY this took so long, I've been so busy with uni and forcing myself to actually do the work this semester (who would've thought I could actually apply myself) but I really enjoyed this, and it's actually made me want to go out and do some tie-dying of my own.

Anyways, here's Tie-Dye Tueaday

W/C: 1.6k

T-Minus 5 Hours Until Disaster

“Daddy?” a soft voice rose Frankie out of his fitful sleep. He distantly felt a tiny, warm hand rest on his cheek.

“Yes, cricket?” he mumbled voice heavy with sleep, struggling to open his heavy eyes. He had stayed up until the small hours of the morning frantically researching for the day, watching YouTube videos, making notes, doing whatever he could to prepare.

“Mommy’s going and said I should wake you up,” Everly pulled herself up onto the bed and sat down directly on Frankie’s bladder. He winced and pushed her off gently, wondering just how she always managed to find the worst spot to sit.

“Have you had breakfast?” Frankie asked, and Everly nodded. He said a silent thanks to his ever-amazing wife, who would be spending the day getting massages and facials and whatever else her heart desired before pushing out twins in less than two months’ time. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around that – there would be two more tiny humans in his life soon. The thought left him exhilarated and riddled with anxiety all at once.

Frankie carried Everly downstairs on his back, grabbing his cap from the dresser on his way. The boys would be here soon – they had agreed that tie dying alone with a hyper four year old was a terrible idea, so they were coming to dye something of their own and help Frankie keep a handle on things. Benny was especially excited to dye his shorts to wear to his next fight.

They were halfway through Coco, Everly’s favourite movie, when the front door opened and in came his three best friends, men he had no relation to but considered brothers. Everly went straight to Benny, who was undoubtedly her favourite of them. Frankie had his suspicion that is was because Benny loaded her up on sugar whenever he could. Sure enough, Frankie could see a packet of candy in the plastic bag Benny carried.

“You ready for this?” Will asked, placing a six pack in the fridge. Frankie sighed and nodded.

“Ready as I can be. It can’t go too badly, right?”

~

T-Minus 3 Hours Until Disaster

The sun was bright and hot on their backs as they set up. Everly sat in the shade of the oak tree, a cup of lemonade in one hand, and her favourite doll in the other. Frankie had forbidden her from coming out in the sun until the sunscreen was fully absorbed, which according to his watch wouldn’t be for another few minutes. It occurred to him that since becoming a father, his mind was filled with worries that he never even considered beforehand.

Frankie had brought dyes in every colour he could, several plastic tubs had been fished out of storage and so many ties that he was sure he would be finding them all around the yard for weeks to come.

“Whatta ya dying, Ev?” Santi called to Everly.

“Purple!” She responded, holding up a pristine white pair of cotton shorts and a shirt.

“Just purple?” Will asked.

“And pink and blue and green!” Everly jumped up, setting her cup down carefully and ran over. “I want it swirly. You should be rainbow wiggles.” She told her father seriously. Will grinned.

“She’s a natural born leader,” he said with more than a touch of pride.

“Just like her mother,” Frankie replied. He took the clothes that Everly held out and began to scrunch and fold them according to the instructions he had written down while watching YouTube last night. The whole thing seemed a lot easier when he was watching through a screen.

Everly chose her dyes as Frankie folded, occasionally handing a certain colour to one of the boys, telling them that they hadto use it. None of them wanted to defy the four year old, so each accepted his colours without protest. Benny seemed quite thrilled when he was given a colour labelled Hot Barbie Pink.

“So many guys will be so fuckin’ embarrassed to get their ass beat by a guy in pink shorts,” Benny grinned.

“Language, Ben!” Frankie darted a frantic look towards Everly, who stood with a cunning smile on her face. Frankie knew that she knew exactly what she wasn’t supposed to say.

“Fuck! Ass!” she declared. Will snorted and Santi had to turn away, face turning bright red from holding in laughter.

Frankie gaped, lost for words for a moment. “Everly, don’t ever say that, but especially the first one, and especially not in front of mommy, okay?”

“Why not?”

Frankie shot a look to Benny, who at least looked a tiny bit sorry. “They’re big people words. Each time you say one your . . . hair gets less curly.”

Everly, who loved her curly hair, looked stricken. Frankie felt bad about lying to his kid, but not as bad as he would’ve felt if his wife came home to a child cussing like she had just strolled out of the military.

The words seemed forgotten as the dye was applied. Everly was surprisingly artful in the way she applied the dye, carefully creating patterns that didn’t make much sense to Frankie but must have made sense to her.

T-Minus 30 Minutes Until Disaster

The group of them sat around the dining room table, beers for the boys and juice for Everly. Most of them had small flecks of multi-coloured dye on their hands, but Frankie was sure they would come off easity. Everly had scoffed down her lunch, and now sat staring outside, looking antsy.

“Go play if you want to,” Frankie said, “you don’t have to sit here.” Frankie was confident there wasn’t anything in the backyard that could pose a danger to her, and besides, he had a view of almost the whole yard from the table.

Everly tore off like a hurricane, juice forgotten as she ran outside, doll in hand.

“If the twins are anything like her . . .” Santi began, taking a sip of his drink. “Fish, you’re gonna have your hands full.”

“If they’re anything like Ev, they’ll be great kids,” Benny said. Will rose his beer bottle. ‘But yeah, you’re definitely gonna have your hands full.”

“Amen, I’ll drink to that,” he said. Frankie nodded and had a sip himself. They talked for a while about football, Benny’s next fight, Santi’s new flame.

Then a thought occurred to Frankie.

“Is it quiet out there?” he craned his neck to investigate the yard and saw . . . nothing. Frankie shot up from his seat, panic rising in his chest. “Everly?” He almost tripped over himself in his haste to get to the backyard. Every worst case scenario was forming in his head.

“Ev?” Benny was beside him in an instant.

“Daddy?” Everly wandered out from behind the tree, and Frankie took a deep breath, calming himself. She was unscathed . . . except for the dye that now stained her arms, legs, face, hair. She was grinning widely, and held up her doll, who was also covered in a rainbow of dye.

“Cricket, what did you do?” Frankie gaped, wondering just how she managed to get almost every inch of exposed skin in such a short amount of time.

“Miss Mildew wanted her hair to be pretty,” Everly explained.

“Your dolls name is Miss Mildew?” Santi asked, red in the face with held back laughter. Everly nodded proudly. She had heard the word on television one night and latched onto it.

“What do you think is worse,” Will murmured to Benny, “Ev swearing, or Ev covered in dye?”

“Swearing,” Benny said snickering, “you can wash out the dye, you can’t unlearn a word.”

“What word?” Everly asked. Ears of a hawk, Frankie thought.

“The word you’re not allowed to say,” Will said.

“And what word would that be?” A smooth voice behind them almost made Frankie jump out of his skin. His wife, beautiful and terrifying all at once, stood on the patio, one hand on her stomach, the other on her hip.

“Fuck!” Everly declared loudly and proudly.

“Teaching my child new words, I see, Benjamin.”

Benny to his credit, at least looked more apologetic than he did with Frankie.

Frankie’s wife waddled down into the yard and set her gaze on her husband. “That dye won’t make her sick will it?”

“No, no, not at all,” he said. He had specifically brought kid friendly, skin safe, non-toxic dye.

“Good. Then I’m gonna go lie down and try and forget my four-year-old just said the eff-word and is every colour under the sun.” His wife shook her head and rolled her eyes at Benny. Once she was inside, Frankie turned to Everly.

“C’mon, we gotta clean you up,” he reached to pick Everly up who shook her head.

“We gotta see what they look like first!” she said. Frankie considered her point and nodded.

“Alright, cricket,” he said. They unravelled the clothes to a chorus of oohs and aahs, Everly clapped her green hands together as her multi-coloured shorts and top were revealed.

Benny sheepishly wandered over to Frankie as he put everything in the washing machine. “Hey man, I really am sorry about that.”

Frankie shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Just buy the missus as much caffeine as she wants when she’s done breastfeeding and she’ll forget all about it.”

“I hope so. Her bad side is not a place I wanna be.”

Frankie laughed and scooped up Everly in his arms. Her curls were streaked with blue and her cheeks were magenta. “Trust me, she won’t stay mad for long. I don’t think she’s that mad to be honest.”

“You don’t?” Benny sounded unsure.

“Well she didn’t yell, and it looked like she was trying not to laugh. All things considered, I think today was a success story.”

Tagging @sharkbait77 because I think you’d enjoy this

#i love it when kids swear #frankie fix #frankie fic #triple frontier

[the-black-birb]

Hi! New follower here but I love your writing, for the prompt list I would love your take on 29/30 with Kuroo! 💕💕 ty !

A/N: Thank you for requesting! I got a little carried away with this and it got really drawn out, hope you enjoy!! I could see myself writing this as a fully-fleshed out story, tell me if you’re interested :)

also for @thenerdyrebel i said I'd make it up to you with Kuroo fluff huhuhuhu

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Kuroo needs a girlfriend for a week. You’re set on making him regret asking you for a favor.

Your relationship with Kuroo was anything but serious. That was a given, considering the two of you were only dating because Yaku dared Kuroo. It was simple, really.

“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend for a full week,” he prompted, knowing Kuroo’s busy schedule between volleyball and college exams. That mixed with his awful personality and he was lucky if a girl stuck around for a conversation.

Still, Kuroo couldn’t say no to a bet, and he had just the person in mind.

“[Y/N],” he approached you one day during lunch, expression screaming mischief. You looked at him doubtfully.

“What are you planning on involving me in today, Tetsurou?” you weren’t unfamiliar with his scheming nature. Three years in the same class made the two of you more than just acquaintances, and you’d been known to do each other favors in times of need.

“Remember that time you stayed up late watching anime so I wrote your essay for you so you could sleep the next day?” he smirked at you. You nodded. “And remember how you said you owed me big time?”

You sighed. “What?”

“Yaku said I couldn’t have a girlfriend for a week,” he says bluntly. You look at him confused.

“You want me to find some poor girl that wants to date you? Hun, that’s impossible,” you dismissed, ignoring the pounding in your chest.

“No, no. That’s too risky. I want you to date me,” he grinned, looking at you like this was a fantastic idea. You fought down the heat rising to your cheeks. Date me? You thought to yourself. Date me? He wants to date me?

“Well, fake date.” Oh. The disappointment sunk in. That makes more sense.

You shook your head. It was no surprise Kuroo didn’t want to date you, but you could still get something out of this. “Buy me noodles every weekend for a lunch,” you replied, gaze unwavering.

Kuroo sighed. That was a lot. “Two weeks?”

You shook your head. “Three.”

“You’re on.”

The two of you shook on it, and you were officially “dating.”

Kuroo wasn’t getting off the hook that easily, though. If you were going to be his girlfriend, you were going to be the most obnoxious girlfriend he’d ever had. You were going to make everyone question why he would ever want to date you.

At first, you were very subtle about it. You did everything you thought a good girlfriend should do, like make him lunch and wear his team jacket. To confirm the whole thing, you made sure Yaku was watching you.

Unfortunately, you were a horrible cook and a bit of a slob.

“This is inedible,” Kuroo groaned as soon as Yaku left the room. You smiled at him deviously.

“You don’t want to eat your girlfriend’s homemade cooking,” you faked a pout. He smacked the back of your head.

“We both know you can’t cook [F/N],” he reminded you, taking out the lunch that he prepared from home. Unlike you, Kuroo had some skills in the kitchen.  You were about to leave to buy lunch (because obviously you weren’t going to make yours) when he placed a second container in front of you.

Oh.

“You think I’m letting my girlfriend eat some shitty school lunch when I know she can’t cook?” Was he blushing?

You wanted to laugh at him, really, but he was being too sweet. Instead, you sat down with him and prepared to eat. Still, you couldn’t resist…

“Aww, did your mommy make it for you?” He kicked you under the table. You just laughed.

You continued to be a “good” girlfriend, shouting at him in the hallways and clinging to his arm to make it difficult for him to walk. You tried to keep your antics to a minimum; after all you couldn’t let him catch on too early.

Good girlfriends even visited their boyfriend’s volleyball practice, you determined. So you thought you should surprise them! And as your surprise you accidentally opened the clubroom while the boys were changing… you tried to help set up equipment and somehow balls were all rolling out of the gym… truly you were a disaster. Finally, Kuroo approached you.

“Don’t help with clean up,” he set stubbornly. You looked up at him with big, round eyes feigning innocence.

“Why not? You guys don’t have a manager to handle things so it’s the least I can do,” you smiled at him. He hugged through his nose.

“Nope. Don’t want my girlfriend staying up late for me. Go home and get some rest,” he demanded, walking away from you.

“You won’t even walk me home,” you whined, hoping you could get a few more hours out of fun with him. Kuroo turned to you, eyes stern.

“No.”

You didn’t argue with that.

Still, your antics continued for the next few days. You showed up to school late, you’d wear your uniform wrong, you’d talk loudly during class, whatever you could do to be obnoxious. People would be absolutely appalled that the captain of Nekoma’s renowned volleyball team was dating you.

As usual, you went to Nekoma’s practice. Today, you were holding tightly to Kuroo’s hand (“Yaku has some doubts,” he told you that morning. “We’ve got to amp it up.”). You walked into the gym and sat on the sideline, already banned from touching equipment. Truly, you didn’t mind this. The team greeted you as they entered, and you pulled out a notebook to get started on your homework.

Occasionally, you’d grab water for the team but you were so tired from being a nuisance during the day, you really didn’t have energy to interrupt practice. And, although you’d never say this if anyone asked, you got to wear Kuroo’s team jacket and watch him play. He looked so into it, he was having so much fun. You wondered how it felt.

Although previous practices you’d either been removed by Kuroo or chosen to leave when the sunset, tonight you had lost track of time. Before you knew it, the moon was high and the boys were starting to clean up.

“Hey.” Kuroo walked up to you. “You’re still here?”

You pretended you didn’t feel the heat rising to your cheeks when he noticed. You looked to your notes, as if the answer to this situation would be there. “Whoops!” you stuttered with a nervous laugh. “I guess I got distracted watching…I’ll just…go… now…” You hastily stood with your bag, getting ready to leave. The quicker you got home, the less risk there was of someone lurking in the dark.

“Wait a few minutes,” Kuroo said absentmindedly, putting away volleyballs. “I’ll walk you home.”

You wondered if he knew what his words did to your poor heart.

Patiently, you waited by the door watching as he and his team cleaned up the gym. Finally, he grabbed his bag and ushered you out the door with him.

Out of habit, his hand reached to grab yours as the two of you walked. You thought about teasing him, wondering if he needed a thumb to suck, too. But the quiet hum of crickets and the calm sky told you this wasn’t the right time.

Your hand stayed firmly in his the whole walk home.

The next day, you were back to your usual antics. Today you had a magnificent plan. You had eaten an omelet for breakfast this morning, but asked your mother to put extra onion and garlic in it. When you got to school, you made sure everyone knew.

“Hhhhhello darling,” you smiled at Kuroo. He looked like he was about to vomit.

“Did you eat a dumpster? Your breath stinks,” he wafted a hand over his face, trying to dismiss the smell. You smiled sweetly.

“Aww don’t be like that. I just hhhad some garlic. You hhhave got to try omelets with garlic, they are just delicious. Especially hhhomemade,” you trailed on, making sure to drag out all of your h’s so Kuroo got the full effect.

“Wow, look at that. Class is starting,” he turned forward in his seat, discreetly shoving a few mints your way.

To make matters worse, Lev had finally caught wind of your relationship. “You’re dating the captain?” he asked you during lunch (you stopped by to tutor occasionally). You grinned up at the first-year, ready to put your plan in place.

“Yes, he’s really dreamy.” Lev made a face that said he disagreed and it took all your willpower not to laugh. “But he hasn’t kissed me yet. I wonder if I did something wrong…”

As if on cue, Kuroo walked into the first-year classroom, lunchbox in hand. “Oh [F/N], there you are. You wanna eat?” he held up his second meal, looking at you expectantly. You turned to Lev bidding goodbye, but he had other plans.

“Captain, how can you not kiss your girlfriend?” he asked, confused look on his face. “You’re so lucky to have such a pretty girl and you won’t even treat her right…”

Kuroo glared at you, handing you the lunchbox swiftly.

“If you’re not careful, someone might steal her,” Lev teased, but the look on his face was mischievous. You wanted to laugh. He’ll only care if they steal me in the next few days, you thought.

Kuroo opened his mouth to retort but was cut off by the bell. Instead, he smirked in a way that sent chills up your smile. “See you at practice, Lev,” he threatened.

His grip on your hand as you walked back to class was tighter than usual. He looked down at you curiously, trying to figure out what you were planning. “You think I’d kiss someone whose mouth smells like cat shit?” he quips as you walk in class.

Seeing there’s no Yaku around you give your honest reply. “Don’t worry, Tetsurou, I know you wouldn’t kiss me if my mouth smelled like flowers and fairy shit,” you retorted, getting out your schoolwork. “I just want to have a little fun,” you winked.

Too busy getting ready for class, you didn’t hear his quiet protest to your statement.

Class continued as usual. You sat quietly through the day, head occasionally falling. Kuroo stifled a laugh, you looked bored to death. He wondered how much you slept last night.

Partway through English, a note slipped onto his desk. In messy handwriting is said "how much money would you give me to flip this table right here, right now, in the middle of class?" It took willpower not to start laughing right there. He scribbled back quickly "I'll add one more weekend of noodles " and passed the note back to you. He saw you smirk when you read it, and write a hurried reply.

Before the note got back to him, you were on the floor, gripping your thigh in pain, and your desk was on the ground.

Kuroo tried to ignore the fact that from this position everyone could see your striped underwear. Instead he was worried about the incredible look of pain on your face and the curse words stringing from your mouth.

After a moment, you sat up, arm still rubbing your thigh but in a far less incriminating position.

"Sorry," you said sheepishly. "Leg cramp."

The teacher opened their mouth, clearly about to give you a scolding, but Kuroo was one step ahead. He slipped the note, which he still had yet to read, into his bag, and stood up to help clean up the mess you made. He pulled you up to stand, hand gripping your arm to support you.

"I'll bring her to the nurse," he assured the teacher, rushing out of the room.

As soon as you go to the hallway, the two of you burst into laughter. "You're crazy," he assure you. "Absolutely insane."

You smiled at him brightly. "You're just jealous you didn't have the balls to do it yourself," you retorted, tripping over yourself with laughter. "You hate English, anyways."

Kuroo shook his head. "Sure but I wouldn't flash the whole class to get out of it," he said through a fit of giggles. "You're wild [F/N]."

You shrugged. "So where do you want to go now?" You inquired, wandering the halls. Kuroo looked perplexed.

"Well we're not going to the nurse's office and I doubt he's expecting us to go back to class," you smiled at Kuroo. "We've got an hour until practice. Where would you like to go?"

Kuroo felt his heart skip a beat. He didn't know what to say.

You smiled at him, and he wanted to be the only person who got to see you look like that. "I know, come with me." You grabbed his hand and started walking.

He wasn't sure how long the two of you walked for. Five minutes? Ten? Usually, silence with you was deafening. You were always trying to crack a joke or make noise. But this was comfortable. He was comfortable. Finally, the two of you arrived at a park close to Nekoma. It wasn't anything special, really, but it felt private. Like the whole world was put on pause for the two of you.

You sat on the swing, mindlessly rocking back and forth. You were staring at the ground.

"So when all of this is over," you still weren't looking at him. "Do we fake a huge breakup? I mean, the whole school knows at this point." You grinned at him. "Wouldn't want them to think you're stuck with me much longer, would you?"

Kuroo smirked. Whatever you could dish out, he could serve back. "What?" He teased. "Afraid if you stick around much longer you'll fall for me for real?"

Your laughter was music to his ears. He leaned against the swingset, watching you move back and forth slowly. "I would never," you teased back. "I'm far too sophisticated for the likes of you," you assured him, swinging back and forth.

"Right," he nodded. "Polka dot panties scream sophistication. Were they pink, too?"

Your ears turned bright red. “They were striped and blue and I didn’t expect you to look!” you retorted (although the last part was a lie, you were fairly certain everyone in the class was looking)

“Hmm,” Kuroo purred. “They were? I think I’ll have to check…” he walked towards you on the swing, hands out in front of him. You were quick to jump off and run from him, but he chased after you nonetheless.

The two of you ran around the park playfully, going up ladders and down slides and Kuroo pretended to grab at you (if he truly wanted to, you were sure he’d be able to catch up to you). Although you had always been the clumsy one out of the two of you, Kuroo had his moments as well. Soon, he was tripping over his own two feet and bring you down with him.

Somehow, you ended on the ground laughing, Kuroo’s form hovering over yours. It was close, closest you’ve been with someone since you were a little kid on a playground. But the way his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you from truly falling, and the warmth radiating from his body and his huge grin… it was worth it.

Eventually, the two of you calmed down and Kuroo stood, offering you a hand. You accepted quietly. “Back to school?” you suggested. He still had practice. Nodding in agreement, the two of you walked hand in hand back to Nekoma.

When you got to school, there was something noticeably different about the air between the two of you. Although you continued your banter, something had eased the tension. No one on Nekoma’s team was sure what exactly it was, but their captain seemed far more relaxed than he had for months.

During break, Lev walked up to you. “[L/N], has he still not kissed you?” he whispered like it was your little secret. You froze, discreetly reaching for your mints. You hoped Yaku didn’t hear him.

You thought back to the park. He hadn’t kissed you, but somehow it felt more personal than a kiss. “Don’t worry about it, Lev,” you assured him with a friendly smile. “Besides, I think you have bigger things to worry about…” Yaku was walking your way, surely to retrieve the tall first-year.

Kuroo watched the two of you talk and walked over to you. “Is he making you uncomfortable?” he asked defensively. You realized how close he was standing to you and suddenly were awfully glad you grabbed that mint.

“Nope!” you assured. “Why? Jealous?” you grinned, expecting nothing to come of it. Kuroo had to get back to practice anyways.

Instead, he swept down and planted a firm kiss on your cheek. “Just a bit,” he whispered in your ear, before turning around and heading back to practice. The warmth of his breath on your ear and his lips against your cheek lingered. For a moment, you wished this week would never end.

But practice had to end, and Kuroo walked you home like normal. It wasn’t until he was back at his own home, finishing homework, that he remembered the note placed on his desk. He went into his bag to find it and uncrumpled it to see your note, his, and then below it in familiar handwriting… 

Are you asking me on a date? I accept

He groaned, throwing the note across the room and covering his face with his hands. Warmth pooled in his chest as he remembered the feeling of his hand in yours and the way you laughed running across the playground… he never wanted it to end.

Although he tossed and turned in bed kept up with thoughts of you and of tomorrow being the last day you’d be ‘fake-dating,’ he eventually fell into a dreamless slumber. After all, the only dreams he had were when he was together with you.

The next morning, you were late for school. Not late like you were later than usual, or you barely got to class, but that you walked in, interrupting the whole class. You were visibly disheveled, and dishing out apology after apology. The teacher took you into the hallway.

It was hard to make out what they were saying, but it was clear you were getting a stern talking-to. Eventually, you made it back into the classroom, awkwardly sitting in your seat and trying to avoid the noisy eyes of your classmates.

You weren’t exactly a class clown, but you were definitely someone who caught everyone’s attention. After spending the whole week drawing eyes to yourself, he wondered why now you decided to hide from it. You had nothing to hide from, he thought.

At lunchtime, he approached you like normal, with an extra lunch in hand. “So, detention?” he asked. You nodded solemnly. “Again?” It had been a while, but for a bit, you were a serial-detention-attendee. It was never really your fault, you were just late and busy and school never really clicked with you. Three years of having class together and Kuroo noticed it, too.

But you’d worked hard to improve your record, and it had been months since your last detention. Still, the slip weighed down on your desk like a metal anchor, dragging you down. You sighed defeatedly.

“Stupid me. I just had to walk my siblings to school… make sure they had lunch money… next time I just won’t show up,” you muttered to yourself. Kuroo furrowed his eyebrows. You weren’t usually one to get down, even when you had rough patches.

“C’mon it’s just some time after school. You’ll be fine,” he guaranteed you, brushing off your concerns. You nodded, smiling weakly.

“Yeah. You’re right,” you mumbled, eating your food dejectedly.

You weren’t very talkative for the rest of lunch.

Kuroo racked his mind, trying to figure out what he could do to make you feel better. He thought about offering you some noodles, but he did enough of that. A card? No, too cheesy… 

Before he knew it, it was the end of the day and you were cleaning up the classroom before heading off to your dreaded detention. Kuroo stayed back to help, figuring it was the least he could do.

You’d been strangely quiet all day and Kuroo hadn’t been sure what to do. Finally, when the two of you finished up, he thought it easiest to dismiss himself. The silence between you was deafening.

“I’ll just… see you Monday then…” he trailed off, heading to leave the classroom. It was only the two of you in there.

“Wait,” you called after him. He stopped immediately, turning to face you. Your head was to your chest, staring at your shoes, and your hand awkwardly scratched the back of your head. You spoke quietly, but he listened closely to make out your words. “Could you… I know you don’t have volleyball today but could you maybe… could you wait for me?” You breathed in deeply.

“I can’t let my mom find out I got detention, she’s been so happy lately and if she finds out she’ll… she’ll…” Tears threatened to pour from your eyes. Kuroo didn’t say much, but he could see the stress weighing down on your shoulders.

“C’ mere,” he motioned. You moved towards him slightly, and when you were within arms reach, he tugged at your wrists to pull you into a warm embrace. “It’s okay,” he whispered to you. One arm circled around your waist to secure yourself to him, while the other drew circles soothingly into your back. “You’re going to be okay,” he promised. When he spoke, you actually started to believe it.

You wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your head into his neck, sobbing quietly. “It’ll be alright,” he promised, kissing your forehead. For a while, the world stopped and you just relished in the comfort of being completely honest and safe in his arms.

Eventually, Kuroo pulled away but kept his forehead pressed to yours. “Hey,” he whispered.

“I got your shirt all wet,” you apologize through tears. His hand moved to wipe at your cheek and he smiled.

“No worries, I looked better without it anyway,” he teased. You laughed tiredly. “I’ll wait for you, and then we can walk home together. We’ll tell your mother we went out on a date, okay?” He owed you at least four.

You nodded, too tired to argue, and wiped away the tears on your cheeks. “Right. I’ll see you at the gate?” Kuroo smiled at you.

“I’ll be waiting.”

True to his word, he was there when you got out of attention. You were started to look more like yourself again, with color in your cheeks and light in your eyes. Still, there was something sad about your demeanor.

You didn’t greet him, and he didn’t greet you, but the two of you fell into step with one another without question. You were simply meant to be side by side at that moment.

“So… the week is up,” you reminded him with a sad smile. Kuroo felt a weight rest on your shoulders. You were right… a week had passed and there was really no reason for the two of you to “date” any longer. But… 

“What do you want to do?” he asked you. You were the one who was in a tough spot, and he didn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerability. He just wanted to see you happy.

You breathed in sharply. You seemed nervous for some reason, and Kuroo prayed silently that he hadn’t been putting pressure on you. “I’ve been thinking actually. About that day at the park.” You turned to face him. He stopped, giving you time to speak.

“I have a confession. Don’t laugh at me?” you asked anxiously. Kuroo grinned at you.

“I’ll always laugh at you,” he promised and you punched his arm playfully. “All right, all right! No laughter from me, not a peep.” He hoped his face didn’t look too hopeful.

“I know I said I wouldn’t, but I think I fell for you for real. Like, really, totally badly,” you admitted, eyes tracing the ground. “And I get that you did this as a joke, and I’m sure you asked me because I’m the one person who you’d never end up dating but I wanted to be honest with you.” Kuroo felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders. You looked cute rambling. “And you don’t even have to respond! Or walk me home! We can stage a breakup, or just tell everyone it didn’t work out or-”

There was something warm against your lips.

Kuroo’s lips were against your lips. He pulled away, stupid grin still clear on his soft, cherry-flavored lips.

“Why would I break up with someone I’m head over heels for?”

#kuroo tetsurō #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #kuroo imagine #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq kuroo #haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu fluff

[tundrainafrica]

Title: My Sweetest Downfall

Summary: 

"The history books forgot about us and the bible didn’t mention us. Not even once."

A century after the war ended, one student gets a little too interested in the relationship between the commander and captain.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Note: Just a short self indulgent fic because I realized "Samson" by Regina Spektor fits Levi and Hange’s relationship a little too well.

You are my sweetest downfall.

I loved you first.

The memories were still connected.

It had been more than a century since the war ended but somehow people still saw the Eldians and the titans in their dreams. They saw it in the blood that splattered as the colossal titans flattened it. They saw it in the terrified faces as the titans approached the lands.

Even wide awake, they were never spared of the horrors. The Reiss family always made sure to remind the Eldians of the massacre that occurred that wiped away the whole world through history classes and tours around the most important places in Paradis. Always ending with one final message. Never again.

Samantha found herself in one of those dreams during one of those tours one day. The tours were nothing new. They were an alternative to classroom learning, to make the history lessons a little more memorable.

“Today, we will be following the formation of the alliance. If you remember from our last class…”

They were supposed to take down the founding titan. Everyone was silent. They all knew what happened already.

The founding titan finished its mission then disappeared. The curse was broken. The only country not left a wasteland by the disaster was Paradis.

And its Paradis’ duty to rebuild the world.

The silence around her and that brief moment of respite was what gave Samantha some leeway to look around and observe her surroundings. She couldn’t help but think, the forest must have looked the same centuries ago. The trees were too big to have been any younger.

So did the soldiers see the same view I’m seeing now? Suddenly, as she reflected on that thought, a brief realization dawned on her. Those same soldiers heard, saw, felt and experienced things she had only ever read about. They suffered in more ways that she could even imagine and fathom.

She shuddered at that conclusion, so violently that she found herself sprawled painfully on the dirt trodden path of the forest, a small glade where the weeds were starting to grow. She had tripped on the weeds.

“Hey are you okay?”

Her knee was bleeding and dirty. Her clothes were stained brown. They weren’t going home anytime soon. Any other day, something like that should have ruined her day. As she stood up and brushed whatever dirt off of her chest, she was far from angry. Apathetic maybe? A good balance between annoyed and curious. Or maybe her mind was just elsewhere.

The memories of the Eldians were connected. Samantha was seeing a memory of an Eldian who had lain in that same ground only a century ago.

“Maybe we should just live here together. Right Levi?”

                               My Sweetest Downfall

Captain Levi and Commander Hange.

Along with most if not all the members of the alliance and the survey corps, those two were household names. She recognized Hange Zoe by her chestnut brown hair, those almond eyes and the eyepatch. She had seen their photos many times when she opened the textbook and willed herself to memorize every event from the establishment of the survey corps to the formation of the alliance to prepare for a long test the next day

Captain Levi and Commander Hange were inseparable. It was evident in every group photo. But it was only natural that that was the case. In classes they would describe Levi as Hange Zoe’s right hand man. They were the two oldest veterans in the survey corps and they had worked together for over a decade before the establishment of the alliance.

Of course they would have trusted each other the most.

Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth. I have to go, I have to go

From the establishment of the survey corps to the formation of the alliance and the defeat that came after. She did not need to think hard to recall that Commander Hange did not make it until the end of the war. To buy the alliance time, she sacrificed herself and killed as many colossal titans as she could after quickly appointing the duty of commander to Armin.

Your hair was long when we first met

“Samson’s strength came from his hair.”

Samson and Delilah. In English class, they were reading thousand year old romances. Samantha’s mind was still in the one hundred year love story that had made itself at home in her mind and it looked like they had no plans of leaving soon.

Samson went back to bed

Not much hair left on his head

He ate a slice of Wonder Bread

And went right back to bed

“Levi, you have to eat more. Who knows how long you’ve been lying there after the explosion.” Despite her insistence, all Hange got in return was some unintelligible grumbling.

“Come on, I don’t want you to di--.” The word got caught in her throat and Hange found herself looking away. I’m just a little tired. She thought to herself. But do people cry when they're tired?

“One slice.” Levi managed to say.

It ended up being less than a slice. Hange had enough experience with soldiers to know though that if she had fed him anymore, he probably wouldn’t have been able to keep it down.

Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads

But they're just old light, they're just old light

Samson came to my bed

Told me that my hair was red

Told me I was beautiful

And came into my bed

Hange had always found the night sky beautiful. In fact, that was the only thing she could still lose herself in. Despite the dreariness of the night and the hopelessness of the situation, the night sky’s beauty was unchanging and unwavering.

“Your hair… looks red.”

“What?” 

“Under the moonlight… it looks a little red.”

“You’re the first person who’s ever told me that.”

Maybe he was the only one who cared enough to notice.

Oh, I cut his hair myself one night

A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light

And he told me that I'd done alright

And kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light

And he kissed me 'til the mornin' light

“Hold still. I need to change your bandages.”

It turned out, Levi was good at staying still. Hange was sure he was in a lot of pain. She saw it in the way he clenched his jaw and his fists. There shouldn’t have been any recoil as she cut through the bandages but even that slight movement had him recoiling. Hange wondered if with just the action of cutting bandages, she was applying unnecessary pressure on his wounds, and consequently, pain.

Levi was awake the whole time. Despite that, changing bandages was a smooth and peaceful process.

“You did a good job. I’ve changed bandages multiple times before for injuries like this. You’re the first one who didn’t even make a peep.”

“Maybe you just did a good job,” Levi said.

She didn’t notice at first but as she had been slowly leaning closer to Levi since a while ago.

I just need to get a closer look at his wounds. That had been her first excuse.

Something at the back of her mind was protesting that though. She didn’t need to look that closely to see the state of his injuries.

Then he kissed her. He only needed a slight movement from his end. That was how close Hange had been to him. Before Hange could comprehend what had happened, she willed herself to close her eyes and instead chose to enjoy the moment.

When she finally opened her eyes, it was morning and they had a war to fight.

                                         My Sweetest Downfall

“Didn’t you tell me before that history is an argument? This is an argument. Why can’t I take this topic for my final research?” Samantha asked.

Her teacher sighed. “Your arguments should be evidence based. Do you have any evidence that Commander Hange and Captain Levi were in a relationship? Do you have letters? Documents?”

“I could look for mo--”

“Besides, they wouldn’t have had time anyway. They had a war to fight.” He continued, as if Sam hadn’t just tried to answer him a second ago. “How much content do you have anyway?”

My dreams. She would have wanted to argue.

She had been a student long enough to know that he wanted hard facts. The harsh reality was, there were no hard facts to go by. The week before, she had spent her time scouring the libraries for anything about the two of them. There were records on Hange Zoe and records on Levi Ackerman but no records that had connected them together as more than comrades in the military.

Why do you keep seeing love in everything? She scolded herself, a way to quell the disappointment inside her as she exited the faculty room. Maybe it was her immaturity that had spurred her to see the romance in that. She had spent weeks on that proposal and she had to start from nothing again.

Even when she tried to forget them, the dreams continued to haunt her for a while longer but she didn’t mind. She wanted to know what had happened to the commander and to the captain.

The last dream she ever remembered was watching the sky. As she looked closer, she saw Commander Hange flying, killing colossal after colossal as she soared.

It was her first time seeing that scene but she recognized it almost instantly.

That was Commander Hange’s heroic sacrifice, the one they had recounted in textbooks.

In the distance, she heard something else, something her textbooks had failed to mention.

One final farewell. See you later, Hange.

Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down

Yeah, we couldn't destroy a single one

And the history books forgot about us

And the Bible didn't mention us

And the Bible didn't mention us, not even once

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #drabble

[hellowkatey]

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!

[nanamismoonchild]

Result of the Eclipse

Summary: A prophecy that foretold the witches getting the patron of the Moon and her child spurred an uprising between the races of the witches, vampires, and wolves. Jealous rage fueled their fight, and soon the Moon had no choice but to separate the races. 

Pairing: namjoon x reader

Genre et Rating: vampire au, witch au, angst, fluff, mature

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of blood, a really bad spell (i’m sorry) 

A/N: I have not written in a looooong time, so when I started this, I couldn’t stop. I had to force myself to stop so I could work on an important assignment. So this will most definitely have a part 2! This was also part of the halloween event by @heartsforbtsnet​.  

There had been a time where the three races of supernaturals lived together in peace. It was centuries before the crowned prince and goddess met.  Stories were passed down from the old about special gatherings where drunken laughter and the occasional moans resounded through the streets of the town.  

But that was centuries ago and nothing but wild fairy tales to tell the children.  

The fight that ended the harmony between the wolves, the vampires, and the witches was a small but powerful one that would not heal on its own.  

The day the Moon gave herself over to the witches was the day that no one would ever see amity again.  The wolves and the vampires were jealous and jealousy is the ugliest emotion. It can make reckless decisions for oneself. 

“How can the Moon betray us like this? I thought we were her favorite,” the vampires hissed.  

“You? We are born under her light and become even more powerful than we know,” the wolves howled. 

The fighting soon began to become violent between the three races. Witches cast horrible curses to keep themselves safe from the poisonous bite of the vampire and the sharp canines of the wolves.  

The Moon took matters into her own hands and separated the races as sorrowful as it made her. She promised they would be reunited as one again when her princess was born and learned the ways of the witches.  

The vampires and wolves grumpily accepted and built their own cities while the witches prepared for the upcoming Eclipse that would bring them their most powerful goddess. Everything was peaceful.  

But that was centuries ago. 

 Namjoon waddled into his grandmother’s arms and gave her a kiss. He loved hearing the silly stories she told--no matter how sad or frightening they could be.  They were almost always about the old days before he was born. 

Many Eclipses had come and gone through the years he’s been alive, and, yet, no one had announced the new princess. But his grandmother always told him to believe and keep his mind open.  

But he didn’t need her to say that. He knew she was alive and well. And as the five-year-old he was, he just wanted to find her like a game of hiding and seek. He knew he couldn’t leave the cities’ limits though. So he only let himself believe and told no one about his intuition. 

His grandmother sent him to bed and kissed on the cheek. 

“Good night, my little prince. I feel there will be good news for you tomorrow.”

“Well then I need to sleep quickly, so tomorrow can come! Night!”

His grandmother smiled and left the room. Her little one could sleep through the night and even through the morning’s breakfast. There were times he would wake up the very next night and sleep an hour or two later. He was very keen to his vampiric nature even at such a young age. Luckily he had not a thirst for blood as others did.  

 The prince was awake the next morning, as he had promised. The noise level of the castle was more than what he was used to.  The servants were running around with fresh linen and buckets of blood at their side. The rare activity excited the small child at the news his grandmother suggested. 

Bouncing into the dining room for breakfast, he was met with his mother’s and father’s serious faces. Sensing their child, they immediately put smiles on their faces and alerted the kitchen servants. A few minutes later, his plate was piling high with pancakes in the shape of bears and a cup of orange juice.  His parents had tried giving him blood as a supplement to the orange juice, but it disgusted him, and never wanted it again. 

The King and Queen kept smiling at him, their nervous energy unbeknownst to their son. After a few bites, the Queen pushed aside her plate and leaned towards her son. 

“Joonie. We have some big news to tell you!”

Namjoon paused the fork that had a piece of his pancake, and glanced at his mother, “What? Grandmother said it would be good!”

“Well, it is, baby. Good for you..... The Princess has been alive for 6 years! And she is coming to visit us for 2 days.”

“I knew it! So I’ll be able to play with her!”

“You knew?” The King asked.  He peered at his wife, a silent message passing through the both of them. 

“Yes! I’ve also had dreams of her! She’s really pretty!”

“Oh dear. If this means what I think it means…” The Queen trailed off, watching her husband inform the kitchen of the new plan. 

The Princess would not be coming to stay with them. Not now.  

“Another fire, Princess?”

The servant witch stared in shock at the spreading fire you had accidentally started. It was the fourth one today, and, if you were being honest, you thought you were getting better at controlling fire spells.  

“Yes, another one. Will you help me put it out once again before Mother comes?”

The servant nodded and proceeded to recite the spell for you, ending the fire’s spread. Normally, servants were not allowed to use their magic. However, your mother had thought it necessary when emergencies occurred. Emergencies like fires and floods caused by you. 

Sighing deeply, you slumped into your chair, feeling the headache that followed your disasters.  Half of your room was charred and it would take another spell to fix it. Twenty-six years of practicing and you still weren’t able to do the simplest spells without going overboard. 

“Is there anything else you need Princess?”

“I’m fine. Now leave me alone please.”

The servant nodded and left the room, leaving you in complete silence.  

“I bet the other witches don’t have to clean up ashes.”

Your spell book was part of the ash but thankfully you had memorized the spell for cleaning up.

“All right. Not too much and not too little. Just enough,” you recited the spell, closing your eyes not wanting to see the catastrophe that might occur. 

When nothing could be heard, you opened them and let out a happy wheeze. Your room was clean and your possessions were in one piece again. 

“Success! Finally!”

You were definitely getting better. 

A knock on your door interrupted your silent celebration.  

“Come in!” Your mother, the Moon, walked in and took note of your happy form.  “I assume you did not cause another fire?”

“Ah...No. However, I did manage to clean up the mess myself. “

“You’re getting better! The servants told me the fire was spreading on half of your room.”

You smiled at the praise, striding over to her and giving her a warm hug. 

“I missed you.”

“As I missed you. Your father likes to be prepared for Eclipses even though we’ve done them countless times. One of those Eclipses even brought you into the world.” “Mother, I have heard the story before and I do not wish to hear it again. Please save me my innocent ears.”

“Innocent?” Your mother chortled. “Sweetheart, I have seen you ogling the male witches. You may even have a crush on one if I remember correctly. Oh, what is his name?”

“Seokjin! And he is only a friend. I have no romantic feelings towards him. You should know this after you snuck into my artbook!”

“I did not sneak into it. It was lying open and I peeked at it.  Very...detailed,” your mother raised her eyebrows knowingly. 

You shook your head and made your way over to the cursed book in question. It was true. The man you had been drawing since you could dream was etched into your artbook. You had no idea who he might be, but you knew he was a vampire. 

Flipping to a page where you knew his smile was prominent, you noted the details of his dimples and how his fangs were not as sharp as the vampires you had met. 

“Very handsome indeed.” Your mother’s soft voice surprised you causing you to jump and drop the book. 

The page it landed on was of a full body portrait. It was of the unnamed man standing in front of giant double doors with a suit on. His expression was grave, drawing it had made you worry for the man.  

The Moon picked up the book, studying the details. 

“Oh,” she gasped. “ I recognize this crest. It’s of the royal vampires. He must be part of the family.”

“There are royal vampires?”

“Yes. Do you remember when you were six years old? We were preparing for you to spend a couple of days there.” A sad smile formed on your mother’s face.  “However, they cancelled suddenly. And I may have a clue as to why now.” “You think it has something to do with me and my dreams?”

“I know it. Remember the stories I used to tell you.”

You remembered clearly. Your mother was the Moon and had ultimately stopped a war by sending the three major races of supernaturals to separate parts of the kingdom. Only her unborn child, you, could reunite them if you found the one you loved.  How would the vampire royalty figure out their son was your true prince? “Could he be dreaming of me as well?” The thought of the man seeing you as you saw him made a rush of blood warm your cheeks. 

“It’s possible. I would say we visit them as a surprise, but there still may be wounds that have not been cared for yet. They would not like to see me.”

You understood her words. Your mother’s reasoning behind choosing the witches as her patrons was a reasonable one, but the vampires and the wolves would not hear of it.  The vampires were too selfish and the wolves were too prideful.  

“You’re too kind for them anyway. I wouldn’t want a prince who turns his back on my mother,” you took the artbook from her and closed it with a huff.  

Grinning, you poke your spellbook open to the spell you had been practicing for the past few days. 

“Invisibility? What pranks are you trying to pull now?”

“Oh nothing Mother. I just want to show you”

“Well then. Go ahead.” 

Letting out a deep breath, you spoke the words, feeling a rush of wind flow through you.

As you opened your eyes, you looked in the mirror and your shoulders fell. It had not worked again.

Your mother started chuckling, trying to stop herself from laughing uncontrollably. 

Annoyed, you ask, “What is so funny?”

“You recited the wrong spell. I believe the spell you did was the floating one.” She pulled the book towards her and nodded. 

Confused, you looked down and gasped. You were floating. How had you not realized the first couple of times? 

“Fuck.”

“Language,” the Moon called out between breaths of laughter. 

“You aren’t supposed to laugh at me, I put all the effort into this!”

“I think your effort is top tier, my dear. But please, can we go to the right spell?”

After a few hours of practicing several of your weakest spells, you were allowed to venture into the garden. Your favorite place in the entire kingdom.  It was in the middle of the city and grew every single sort of flower anyone could imagine. You treasured the zinnias the most. They represented remembering or thinking of one’s friends or lovers. Ever since you first dreamed of the man, you were always thinking of him. 

You had recognized the crest, and your mother’s affirmation only proved that you needed to do something wild and forbidden. 

Picking a bouquet of the zinnias, along with a few others, you place them into a basket and draw the cloak you had brought along with you over your head. 

Reciting the invisibility spell, you felt the same woosh of wind from earlier. It was an odd feeling spreading through your body. But you knew it had worked when a servant came whistling around the corner and didn’t double take at your appearance. 

The city of the vampires, which you had learned was called Saorsa, was only beyond the limits of your kingdom.  It would be almost an hour’s trip by walking. You didn’t plan on walking as your dainty feet wouldn’t last that long, so you opted for the enjoyable version. 

Seokjin was waiting for you at the beginning of the forest line. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking around every so often for anyone that would think he was suspicious.

“Seokjin, you’re doing this for Y/N. Get it together.” 

He heard the bush rattling, and glanced over to it.  

“Y/N? Princess? Is that you?” “Yes!” You said behind the frightened man.  

Jumping back a few feet, your friend let out a yelp. His handsome face scrunching in fear. 

Laughing, you come out of your invisibility and raise the hood of your cloak. “My friend you are such a scaredy-cat. How will you survive encounters with the vampires?”

“By not interacting with them Princess,” he scolded. He took a few deep breaths, trying to regain his composure. “Now let’s go ahead and get this over with. Remember what we practiced? I do not want to be turned into a rat again.”

“I can do it this time. I’ve even mastered the fire spell you taught me.”

“I heard your room went ablaze again.”

“I call that progress Seokjin.”

Seokjin laughed and stood back. 

You spoke the spell excitedly, watching as your friend transformed from a handsome man into a gorgeous brown horse. 

He neighed, stomping his foot in hurrah at the success of your spell. 

“Yes! Let’s go. Let me hop on!”

Hopping up to the horse’s back was a trial but you managed it by grabbing his mane, a little huff coming from him, and lifting your leg as far as it could go. Clutching onto his mane, you steadied yourself and took at the dense forest. 

Not a soul could stop you from meeting the man that captivated your thoughts.  

“Seokjin, I think we’re almost there! I can see the castle from here!” 

The hour’s walk had turned into a mere thirty minutes with the quickness of Seokjin’s hooves and a little magic.

The home of the vampires was close as the outline of the foreboding outline of the caste. The stark difference of your home and the vampire’s was colour; there seemed to be a lack of colour. Your mother had always told you vampires loved the darkness, which is why they loved her so much.  However, you had never thought it true. Who wouldn’t love to see colours pink, red, and yellow? The grey and black was hideous in your eyes. You could only hope that the man, who you now assumed was a prince, loved colours as much as you did.  

The tree line was slowly leading to a row of houses and you sensed that you would have to cloak soon.  

You had never practiced with two people--let alone a horse--so you could only pray to the Moon that it worked.  

Before you could try, Seokjin abruptly launched you into the air. Landing with an unprincess-like grunt a few feet from him, you make out Seokjin’s broad figure laying unmoving. A figure appeared from the shadows, blood dripping down their neck as they kneeled next to you. 

Whimpering, you tried to move away, but the sting of your broken leg kept you still. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,”the figure cursed. 

Your vision was blurring, and you could almost hear your mother say, “Language.”

The moonlight that spilled onto your face was almost blinding. Blinking a few times, you manage to register that you were on a bed with silk sheets draped across your body.  Foreign, yet it was warm and comfortable. 

You had no recollection of being put in bed-let alone being carried to the room. There wasn’t a clock on the stand next to you, but you knew it had to be close to midnight. You weren’t too sure of the day. 

The throbbing in your leg was barely noticeable as you sat up to collect your thoughts and survey the rest of the room.  The only light in the room came from the Moon, giving you a little bit of calmness. Your mother was watching in spirit.  

Seokjin wasn’t in the room with you. You could only hope he was fine. His unmoving body was singed in your mind and the guilt was slowly beginning to take over you. It had been your idea to use him as a horse to travel to the unknown land of the vampires. Unfortunately, it seemed only disaster struck as soon as you reached the city. The figure, that you assumed was a vampire, must have carried you here.  He seemed to be frantic once he realized what he had done.  Maybe Seokjin was here as well being taken care of. 

Wiping away the tears that slipped from your eyes, you stood up testing the weight of your legs. The pain was minimal and manageable. You presumed that it had been broken, perhaps it was only sprained. Opening the door of the room, you peek out into the hall that appeared to only house your room.  

“Hello?” your question echoed through the hall.  

No one answered so you stepped out into the hallway, letting the door close behind you.   

  There were no audible or visual signs that anyone was nearby. Just the soft steps of your feet as you made your way towards the staircase at the end of the hallway.  The stairs were dark, the moonlight not being able to reach it from the windows. There was only one spell you knew that could provide a light for you, but it was the cause for most of the fires in your room. 

“Can’t hurt to try. And if it does go ablaze, perhaps someone would smell it and come!” Your mother had told you optimism was one of your best gifts, and you intended to use it in this strange place.  

“ Light is what I need,

To guide my way through the dark

Just a little to lead.”

 Feeling your palm warming, you opened it, smiling at the little ball of light that hovered in your hand. 

“Finally!”

You let yourself gloat for a second before continuing up the stairs. They wound up several stories to a heavy door.  Pushing it brought you no success, and knocking on it would only hurt. You had no choice but to use your magic to open it--not that you wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to practice. 

The heavy door exploded open with your spell; the sound of it slamming against the wall should have been loud enough to alert anyone lurking. When no one seemed to be making their way to you, you continued your self-guided tour of your containment. 

“Where is everyone?”

Your home was always bustling with activity, day and night. From the stories your mother and father told you, you had expected vampires to be awake at night when the Moon was at her highest.  Mayhaps they slept through the night to dishonour her. Your mother did say the wounds had not healed though it was centuries before you were born.  

Perhaps your Prince would want to change that. 

There was another set of stairs that went up for several stories. They had put you in the lowest part of the castle. At least you surmised it was the castle, there was no other possible reason why a house would have two basements. 

At the next door, you could hear the clear, distinct sounds of laughter and clinking glasses greeted you. 

Delighted to finally have a form of contact, you quickly cast the spell to open the heavy door, announcing your presence to the entire kitchen. 

Three servants gasped at your appearance, dropping a few of the goblets and plates. 

“H-hi? I’m from-”

“Witch,” one of the servants hissed. 

Their fangs lengthened as they circled you. 

“Please. I do not come to harm you,” you backed up against the door, arms in front of you as a sign of peace.  “But I will if you come any closer.”

They all laughed at your words--the threat doing nothing to them.  

“The ugly witch threatens us?”

“Where did she even come from?”

“The dungeons perhaps?”

You whimpered, not understanding what you needed to do to escape the wrath of the servants. Magic seemed to be the only wrong answer.  Harming them was not something you wanted to do. 

“I am your future Goddess. My name is Y/N! Daughter of the Moon and the Sun.”

They laughed again. The old wrenches caring only about draining you. 

“We do not care about your mother. She betrayed us long ago.”

“I’m sorry for what she did, but you deserved it. You hurt the witches because of your people’s jealous rage. You’re lucky she didn’t take away your existence completely.” You had no idea where the confidence to say the things that were always hiding in the back of your mind. Your mother had regretted the decision to separate the races for centuries, and there was no reason for her to continue to have a contrite heart any longer. 

The vampires hesitated for a second only to continue their dance towards you.  

“Strong words coming from a witch,” they all hissed. 

“Strong words coming from my guest, servants,” a powerful voice coming from the doorway. 

All four of you glanced, and your heart sped up. 

It was him.  

He stood regal in the doorway, hands hidden in his suit pocket. His brown hair was messy as if he had just woken up. There was a twitch of annoyance in his grey eyes as he made his over to your shaking body.  

Taking your hands into his, he ran a finger across the skin. A touch of warmth spread across your body and instantly calmed you. 

“Breakfast was supposed to be served minutes ago,” he cast a look at the servants who had since backed away from you. “And then I hear the voice of our guest trembling in fear. How do you think that makes me  feel?” “We are sorry, Your Highness.”

“Yes very.”

“Saying sorry isn’t enough sometimes, isn’t it? You should all be aware of this as the Moon herself has said it countless times, and what did your families do?”

You had no idea what was happening between the four of them, but your Prince certainly had leverage.  

The servants bowed in submission to their Prince and scurried away. 

He turned towards you and caressed your cheek; his face turning into one of elation, “I cannot believe you’re actually here.”

“I cannot believe it either. I had a rather unfortunate welcome.”

“I know. And for that I’m sorry. Taehyung thought it was someone coming to attack us. He’s our best soldier and uses his fangs first before thinking. “

Frowning, you asked, “And what of my friend? Seokjin? He was a horse before he was forcefully turned back. The last I saw him...he was not moving and your “best” soldier wore his blood on his face.”

The Prince grimaced, your tone not something he wished to hear again. “He’s safe. Recuperating in the infirmary. He passed out from being forced to turn into a human and from the little nick of blood Taehyung took. He seems to be afraid of his own blood.”

Satisfied with his answer and the safety of  Seokjin, you lean into his chest, wanting to be close to him. 

“What’s your name?” 

“Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”

You giggled, “All of my dreams of you, and not one of them ever told me your name.”

“Mine did. Welcome to my home, Y/N.” 

#heartsforhalloween #hyunglinenetwork #btswritingcafe #networkbangtan #namjoon #namjoon x reader #rm #bts #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #v #bts x reader #namjoon fics #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #result of the eclipse #bts rm #bts oneshots #let me know how it is! #redoing these tags

[pilferingapples]

Brick Club, 1.4 entire (retro)

Cosette's story often has such a fairy-tale feel, and it starts with this  section (what should I be calling these chunks of text? the X.X sections as a whole, not the X.X.X ones? Volumes?) .

And yet I'm not at all sure why I get that feeling quite so strongly, in terms of narrative technique.  The initial namelessness of the cast, with Two Mothers echoing the way people in fairy tales are Mothers and Millers and Eldest Daughters?  But if Fantine is presented as if she was s stranger to us again, it's not different than what happens with JVJ, and his story never feels this way.  The  Three Sisters made by Cosette, Eponine , and Azelma maybe? That's a very fairy-tale motif indeed.   Something about the way the inn itself is described..?

Augh, I absolutely cannot put my finger on it.   Still,  something about this passage feels as ominous and certain and doomed  as if the inn was a gingerbread cottage and Fantine was vowing to keep silent for seven years while making shirts out of nettles.

Notes on Various Things under the cut:

-  love that the inn sign is really badly made. I've seen several attempts at it in various adaptations and they're always a disaster and it's excellent, I want a collection.

-  the cart is covered with "the same ugly yellow mud sometimes used to decorate cathedrals".  The cart that is A Metaphor for outdated social institutions.  I see you, Hugo. 

- I will FIGHT Hugo about peasant/working class women's clothing in this era, this outfit would be super charming!  But it's definitely more about utility and practical wear than Fantine's old outfits.   There are roughly a billion dissertations to be written about the way that things working class people do and use are , through history, treated as inherently ugly/undesirable, regardless of how much art and beauty might actually have gone into it; I feel like the classism kinda speaks for itself on that.  And then,since Hugo's already drawn a huge Romantic Aesthetic defining line between the Useful and the Beautiful  in this book, I think  I can fairly just quote Gautier's explanation of the issue -- "Nothing is really beautiful but that which cannot be made use of; everything that is useful is ugly, for it is the expression of some need, and the needs of man are vile and disgusting, like his poor, weak nature" -- and leave this for now.  I suspect it will come up again. 

- Fantine has been "marked by irony" --that is, scarred by her time with Tholomyes.  I do like the way  this new line on her face sounds almost like a dueling scar. Fantine's a fighter in her own way!

- ...Tholomyes is gonna make it to at least 1828, meaning he'll outlive everyone we love in this story except Cosette and Marius.    And he'll do it while being  "always a man of pleasure"--I feel like there's an implicit suggestion that Cosette has a lot of half-siblings in the world, all of them with a story as important as hers, if only people would take them seriously. 

- ...as a Somewhat Taller Than Average woman myself, I am rather delighted by Hugo's obvious terror of women who are Not Tiny.   ( And I realize I'm probably Reaching to think that Mme T might have been much happier and more well-adjusted if she weren't trying to cram her giant self into a tiny box of Ideal Femininity?  Maybe she'd have been much more ok if she'd  been able to go into showbiz and get famous as  a weightlifter or something. )

But I do think there's a real sort of sadness to her introductory chapters.  She had an ideal dream for her own life , and it wasn't even a particularly ambitious one--just a love story, really-- and it's fallen through as much as anyone else's hoped-for Ideal in the novel. She's still trying to hang onto it at this point, but we're already given a glimpse of the future  when she'll not only have given up on that ideal, but come to despise herself for it.  This is no way absolves her of her cruelty towards others, but I think she's a more complex villain (and she is  a villain) than she's sometimes treated as. 

- Fantine does try to lie about having been married, here! ...but she also comes right out and tells people she's making a financial Deal with exactly how much money she has, and how much she's able to give over, before it's all settled.  It's  painful how ill-prepared she is to deal with this kind of economic manipulation (and I think "prepared" is really relevant; she's had no one more naturally skilled or experienced to teach her how to handle these things, and business negotiations, which this is, are incredibly complicated) . 

Seeing how much money Mme T gets for Cosette's fine clothes makes me strongly suspect that Fantine was severely underpaid for pawning her own fancy things--unless, and I guess this is possible, her "putting all her finery" on Cosette  is meant to be literal, and Cosette's current clothes are directly made of Fantine's old fancy outfits. 

- Fantine tries to lie about having been married , and the neighbors *see* her crying as she leaves Cosette, and Cosette must have been well dressed and all for that first months or so...but still, everyone believes the Thenardiers when they start telling the town that Cosette is an abandoned, illegitimate child.  They believe it because Cosette looks the part, and Cosette looks the part because the Thenardiers force her into it.  In so many ways, Fantine is never in control of  the narrative about her child, and What People Say about them does indeed matter more than anything she does--no amount of effort, no show of love, can save her and Cosette when everyone else  has decided they're socially damned. 

...but on the less thematic and more practical side,how on earth are the Thenardiers learning about her marital status? Seriously, was this freely avaialable info?  This  issue is something that comes up several times in the novel and I really have no idea what access to people's family records was like? 

- we get our first negative association with a cat , hm 

- ...workers have "generous impulses", huh?  (also I am not at all sure if the corresponding Bourgeois Respectability is meant to be entirely a good thing, but I'm not sure it's NOT , like I would be with Some Writers? Agh) 

- The Thenardiers' animal souls are : 

French: écrevisses 

Hapgood: crab-like FMA: crabs Rose: crayfish  Donougher: lobsters

Google Translate agrees with Rose, but I wonder if this isn't one of those words that was colloquially used to mean a general category of creatures in its day --Things Like a Crayfish/lobster/crab-- and has come to mean something very specific now?

-  ..y'know, what really kills me about Cosette in this every time is how everyone , *everyone*  in this town really either believes she deserves her abuse, or thinks it's BETTER than she deserves.  This is not happening in secret, behind closed doors, in a private house; it's at the public inn and very blatant. Everyone knows she's out in the cold , first up every morning, starving and beaten, in a home where the other kids somehow have more than enough (because their parents steal it from Cosette, directly).  And not one person in this discount Omelas even thinks it's bad , much less intervenes. It's a point in the Thenardiers'  favor, socially.   This isn't just the gamins of Paris being brushed aside,this is a whole town actively citing horrible child abuse as the Moral and Good Option that elevates the people doing it.  

And in this, I suppose, Cosette shares a history with Valjean-- they're  both put through absolutely horrific abuse , which is not just societally ignored, or accepted with jaded apathy ,  but openly lauded as morally correct.   I hate Montfermeil so much-- but Montfermeil is not really different from Arras, or Digne, or any other place where people think that abuse of the "deserving" is a Good Thing. 

#LM 1.4 #brickclub #brick club #LM 1.4.1 #LM 1.4.3 #LM 1.4.2 #child abuse mention #long psot #long post

[spaceskam]

warning: mentions of past bullying/homophobia because it kyle

Kyle Valenti had prepared for a lot of up and downs in life. It came with the territory of being pre-med.

What he had not prepared for was coming home for Christmas break after his very first semester in college to see that his father had moved in Alex Manes so he didn’t get shipped off to war. He was even further less prepared for the following two weeks of seeing Alex Manes in increasingly more compromising situations--bent over to get something out of the oven, reaching up to get laundry detergent, stretching in the morning, parading around shirtless before bed, choosing tight little biking shorts to run in, sweating after working out, working out, just to name a few. 

By far, the last thing he’d been prepared for was, when his parents were at the station’s Christmas party, getting a little too drunk on whiskey with Alex Manes in a hot tub while discussing Lord of the Rings which somehow led to giving him head on the back porch like a fucking disaster who had no self control.

Now it was morning and Kyle was replaying the entire night over and over, staring at his bedroom ceiling with wide eyes. Up until college, Kyle had figured he was 100% straight. He’d seen cute guys, but no one he’d actually want to do anything with and, to him, that felt heterosexual enough. But those measly three and a half months that he’d spent at UNM had completely fucked up his world. Who knew so many boys got hot after high school?

But, still, he’d never really thought about acting on it outside of a fleeting, intrusive thought. Those thoughts got more frequent and stayed a little longer with Alex in his house, but he thought he had control. He thought it wasn’t a problem. Clearly he was very wrong.

In the next room over, Alex was sleeping in what used to be the guest bedroom. Disgust filled his mind as he remembered his parents explaining that having Alex around would be just like having a brother. You grew up together, they’d said, it’s no different than an adoptive sibling. There was nothing brotherly about the way he thought about Alex.

When someone knocked on Kyle’s door, he sat up and immediately started thinking of ways to explain himself. It was an accident, he didn’t mean to get on his knees. He simply fell. Alex went to help him, it was totally innocent when his shorts slipped off his hips. Water was heavy, you know? Besides, he wet ass-print on the wall had to be dry by now, there was absolutely no evidence that anything had been done for a long period of time. 

“Come in,” he said, voice slightly strained. Funnily enough, he wasn’t even hung over. At least, not on the whiskey.

Alex peeked his head in, seeing a little hesitant as he stared at him. His hair was ruffled, his septum piercing crooked, and, instead of his usual shirtless morning body, he had on a baggy sweater that engulfed him entirely. Kyle wanted to die. Why the fuck was that attractive? Who was calling the shots in his brain? He’d like to have a talk with them.

“Hey,” Alex said, clearing his throat, “Could we, uh, talk for a sec?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said, fidgeting in his bed. 

Alex entered the room completely and closed the door behind him. He seemed hesitant to come near him, but he did anyway. Kyle prepared himself for the absolute shit show about to come. He knew it would be bad because, honestly, he didn’t know what he wanted him to say. Did he want to be rejected? Did he want to find out what his lips tasted like? They’d skipped the kissing stage on accident.

“Um,” Alex whispered, his sleeves pulled over his hands as he tried to look natural. He just looked scared. “I just wanted to apologize about last night. I-If I made you feel like you had to do something you didn’t want to or just made you feel uncomfortable in anyway, I’m genuinely sorry. The whole lead up is blurry, so I don’t know if...”

“No,” Kyle jumped in, shaking his head, “No, dude, no. That’s, that’s not what happened.”

Alex eyed him and nodded slowly, not quite believing him. Which made sense. They had a weird time in high school. Or, just, bad. A bad time in high school. Why exactly was Alex the one apologizing again?

“I’m sorry,” Kyle added, “If I made you feel like-”

“No,” Alex said, voice soft and adorable and what the fuck, “No, I wanted it.” Kyle swallowed harshly. Was it getting hot in here? “I just, I know how you feel--or, felt, I guess--about me being gay and I wasn’t sure if there was some miscommunication happening. Because, like, I don’t actually remember any communication happening at all.”

“No, look, I’m sorry. About high school. All of it, I was stupid and confused,” Kyle told him, watching Alex’s eyebrows furrow a little bit, “I’m still stupid and confused. I do know I don’t... regret it. But I am still trying to wrap my head around it.” Alex didn’t say anything, simply nodding to show he was listening but didn’t want to put any words in his mouth. “Like, does this mean I’m gay now?”

Alex smiled a little in relief, shaking his head, “No.”

“Well, do you know what it does mean?” Kyle asked, “Because I definitely enjoyed myself, but I have never wanted to do that before the last, like, week. Then I get the opportunity and I throw caution to the wind. How’s that for impulse control?”

Alex gave a little laugh and it eased Kyle’s mind a bit more. 

“Um, could mean a couple things. Could mean you were just experimenting which is normal. Could mean you’re bi or something. It, uh, it takes awhile to really find a good word. Even then, it’s hard to know if it’s permanent. Stuff’s weird,” Alex explained, shrugging his shoulders. Kyle licked his lips and then moved his legs to sit criss-cross, giving Alex a space to sit on his bed. It took a little bit of silent confirmation before he did so.

“So, I’m gonna be confused for the rest of my life?”

“Not necessarily,” Alex said, biting his lips momentarily and Kyle really felt like it was on purpose, “Like, for me, I know I’m gay. I know I only want to have sex with men. But sometimes I still am like, okay, am I really though? Which, I don’t know, I think it’s pretty normal ‘cause, you know, heteronormativity is a thing.”

“Heteronormativity?” Kyle repeated. Alex again gave that sweet little smile.

“You know, like, thinking being straight is the default in society and, because of that, it makes it hard to understand your own sexuality and your own outlook on life because, well, it’s different from what’s been instilled in you from a young age,” Alex rambled. Maybe he was a little hungover because it felt like he was getting a little too fancy for first thing in the morning.

“Right, so what I’m hearing is that wanting to see you naked and wanting  to get your dick in my mouth was the beginning to a whole goddamn deconstruction of the way I view my own personality and, by extension, existence,” Kyle responded. Alex’s cheeks were a little flushed as the more blunt statement, but he nodded nonetheless. “Cool. Nothing quite like an existential crisis for breakfast.”

Alex gave a more genuine laugh this time and Kyle felt like, of all the things to be confused about right now, his mouth was not one of them.

“So, you’re not mad?” Alex clarified. 

“No,” Kyle said honestly, “But I’m sorry I was a dick to you in high school for clearly my own issues.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed, licking his lips. He again pulled on his sleeves. “So... What now?”

Kyle didn’t have an answer. In fact, all he could do was stare at Alex and his lips and his cheekbones and his crooked little septum ring. He glanced up at Alex’s eyes for a moment before letting his gaze drift back down to his lips, feeling a little overwhelmed with desire. It was really hard to have a full freak out about things when Alex was literally sitting on his bed and looking too good to fathom.

Kyle lifted his hand mindless towards Alex’s face and was only remembered that it was weird when Alex flinched in response.

“Sorry,” he said, “Can I?”

Alex looked a little concerned about what he was asking for, but he gave a short nod to say that he trusted him not to be cruel. Kyle took that as the best thing he’d ever seen, but also acknowledged that he had a lot more to work on than just his own self-discovery. He should definitely work on making things up to Alex.

But, for that moment, he straightened out the little metal piece and rested his hand on the side of Alex’s neck. Alex just watched him, waiting for him to be the one to make the first move. So he did.

Kyle moved in slowly, telling himself he’d already gone way further than a kiss and so it shouldn’t be scary. It was still terrifying. He could feel Alex swallow harshly as he got close. Then they closed the gap.

The kiss was short and PG and, honestly, a little awkward. Yeah, they definitely need to fix some other things before this would be as fun as it was last night. 

Alex gave a short little laugh as they pulled apart, eyes sweet and kind and really helping Kyle make more sense of the world. How the hell had he ever been mean to him?

“Maybe we should go downstairs so you parents don’t get any ideas?” Alex suggested. Kyle nodded, tempted to kiss him once more just because. He knew it would be a little weird, though, and wasn’t sure if Alex wanted him to, so he didn’t. “And, don’t worry, I’ll keep your little revelation to myself.”

“Thanks,” Kyle said, feeling a little relieved over that despite not having considered that he would’ve told anyone. This was so fucking weird. 

“And, when you go back to school, you know you can always call me if you need to talk about it. I get that it’s hard,” Alex offered. Man, Kyle really wanted to kiss him again.

“Can I kiss you again?” Kyle asked. Alex laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Just a little bit.”

“Fair enough,” Kyle agreed, leaning forward with a little more confidence. The kiss was better than the first one, more comfortable and expected. It still didn’t go past anything you’d see on Disney Channel, but it had Kyle feeling ready to start his day.

“Okay,” Alex said against his lips, “Ready to go pretend like we didn’t defile your family’s backyard?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said, “But I can’t wait to do it again.”

Alex snorted a laugh and stood up off the bed.

“You sound so sure it’ll happen again.”

“Oh, it won’t?”

“We’ll see.”

And Kyle was definitely willing to wait.

#kylex #kylex fic #kyle valenti #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

[miss-tc-nova]

All Flustered - Young Xehanort x Fem!Reader

Ah, this, ladies and gentlemen, is a reader after my own heart! Yes, Eraqus is definitely my fluff motivator while I tend to write angst for Xehanort, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him! And you can bet your ass I postponed finishing ‘A SOLDIER’s Memories’ to write this!

Hope this is what you were looking for Anon. 

~~~~~

               I hum to myself, checking over the assignment from last night. The morning sunlight streams in through the classroom window, providing the perfect amount of light and warmth while I enjoy my peaceful moment. Once class starts, I’ll have Tardy Fleetfoot, Smarmy Fluffcoat, and Haughty Swaggerstep to deal with, names courtesy of Tardy himself. They aren’t bad people; none of my classmates are, but peace is certainly a rarity once those three are involved.

               “Do you ever leave this room?”

               Ah, peace is over.

               I pull my gaze from the text to find two of the rabble-rouser trio, Eraqus and Xehanort. The shorter male leans in to take a look at my work. “You’re not done yet? That’s not like the top student.”

               “I finished last night. I was just double checking it,” I reply.

               “Oh. Let me see what answers you got.” Without asking, Eraqus takes my paper and wanders off with it.

               I sigh and start packing up my things, very much aware that Xehanort is still standing there watching me.

               “Seriously, do you ever leave this room outside of keyblade training?” he repeats.

               My ears burn and I only spare him a glance. Xehanort had only joined our class a couple years ago but quickly matched our ranks. There’s hardly a subject he has trouble with and his drive is incredible, though apparently that doesn’t mean he’s above teasing others. He plays indifferent but it’s pretty obvious his classmates have become his friends. He’s smart and confident and strong and I have the biggest crush on him.

               I don’t know what happened. I’d been asked to help catch him up on our curriculum but he refused my help and did it himself in just a few months. As time went on and we had our interactions, I couldn’t help noticing that inspiring confidence and the spark in his eyes at a challenge. There’s just some sort of charm there that has me smitten beyond my control. It’s a terrible distraction in class sometimes.

               But I could never let him know. I prefer observation, letting the others hold most of the attention during class. By nature, that makes me a bit more introverted. Xehanort, on the other hand, is definitely not afraid to speak his mind. Not only would he very likely turn me down in a heartbeat, but the entire class would hear about it. Bragi and Vor might tease me for a while but even after that’s subsided everything would be miserably awkward. That’s one hell I’d like to steer clear of in this lifetime.

               “Yes,” I answer simply. “I just like to get here early. It’s peaceful.”

               “How the heck did I get the number twelve as the second tier ice spell?!” Eraqus exclaims from the table.

               Xehanort raises a brow at his best friend and I can’t help giggling. “Well it was.”

               I collect my things from the window bench and move to the table. Before long, the first class of the day starts.

~~~~~

               “How was that?”

               I drop my shield and give my go-to partner, Hermod, a thumbs-up. “That was great.”

               He looks to his boots. “I think my stance was a bit off.”

               “Well why don’t you give it another go?”

               “Okay.” Hermod and I set up once again but just as he prepares to rush me, we’re interrupted.

               “Excuse me, you two.” We glance back to find Master Odin approaching with Eraqus and Xehanort. “I know you prefer working together, but I need you to work with these two and help them with the new technique.”

               “Uh, yes sir,” Hermod responds dutifully.

               Oh no…

               “Thank you.” With that, the Master ushers Hermod and Eraqus away, leaving me to work with Xehanort.

               Crap!

               Xehanort folds his arms and huffs. “Guess it was a matter of time before we got in over our heads.”

               Trying to ignore the nerves working in my chest, I tilt my head. “You normally pick up keyblade work very quickly without any help.”

               “Yeah, well this one’s not very useful,” he grumbles.

               It’s not very common to see Xehanort perturbed so this is fairly interesting. Still, I know he’s determined so I’ll help him out any way I can.

               “I’m sure you’ll catch on soon enough,” I encourage, insides freezing at the skeptical glare. “Come on. Show me what you’ve got so far.”

               It gives me some joy to have Xehanort flip his opinion on the technique once I’ve sorted out exactly where his problem lies. Soon, he’s on the verge of destroying my shield rather than bouncing off it. At his insistence, we move on to practical application while sparring and he’s certainly got me on the ropes.

               Until disaster strikes.

               My foot catches on an uneven stone and I hit the ground. It’s too late for my opponent to halt his attack and Xehanort ends up tripping over me. I wait for the collision but it’s not nearly as squishing as I’m expecting.

               “Are you okay?”

               Eyes snapping open, I suddenly feel as if I’ve been lit on fire. He may not have been able to stop his fall but Xehanort managed to catch himself and prevent himself from crushing me. He’s still far too close for comfort though.

               Out of desperation to remove myself from the situation, I shove him off me and sit up. “Yeah! I’m fine!” I say, quickly standing and brushing the dirt from my pants. I’m terrified to look at him, terrified that my burning face will betray me. “S-Sorry!” My saving grace comes in the tolling bell. “Oh thank gods!” I breathe, scurrying back into the castle.

               It takes me ages to push the event out of my head. My diversion tactic is the usual: dive head first into my studying. I sneak away to the library which also happens to have a very cozy little window seat. As I settle in, it’s knowledge that washes away my anxieties and consumes the remainder of my day.

               “So you do leave the classroom.”

               Heart stops and blood runs cold. No. He’s not… My eyes flash to the figure strolling along the bookshelves. There’s an all-knowing smile on his lips and the way he approaches is reminiscent of a predator whose prey has zero escapes. He is!

               “Xehanort,” I manage to utter, closing my book. “What are you doing here?”

               “This is a library,” he replies lightly. “Can’t I come to study just like you?” I bite back my response. “But you’re smart enough to know that’s not true aren’t you. So I’ll get to the point: you weren’t at dinner.”

               He’s right. I’d been so focused in trying to push him out of my head that I completely forgot about eating. It had gotten so late, only the bright moonlight from the window was what allowed me to continue reading. “Oh…I completely forgot. I was so busy studying I-”

               “Why are you avoiding me?”

               Without even a minute change in his predatory expression, Xehanort takes another step closer and my body reactively shrinks back. The blood is flowing again and I can’t maintain eye contact.

               “Interesting. Our class’s top student, scared of me?”

               “N-No,” I stammer.

               Clearly entertained, he leans closer. “Then what’s wrong?”

               Snatching up my books, I stand. “I need to go.”

               One step into my flight, a hand takes my arm. I let out a squeak of a gasp when my back meets the wall. There’s a thump right above my head. I keep my eyes clamped shut because I know what meets me should they open; I can feel the warmth coming from him—that’s how close he is. Even more, I don’t even have to look to witness the sheer gratification rolling off him. There’s no doubt he’s enjoying this.

               “What’s wrong?” his smooth voice hums. The mint toothpaste on his breath ghosts across my cheeks.

               “Th-This isn’t funny.” I curse myself for stuttering, but I swear my heart is beating so hard that’s why my voice shakes.

               “Of course it’s not.”

               I finally persuade myself to peek and it was a mistake. His face is only centimeters away, those dazzling argent eyes capturing mine. I can’t look away but the wall won’t let me through.

               “Don’t get me wrong, I take pride in eliciting this sort of reaction from you, but this isn’t a joke.” I can hear the pleased smile in his words but my gaze is still glued to his. I’d never noticed the alluring flecks of deep silver dappled among sterling in those eyes before.

               Not the time for that! It takes so much effort to keep my breath from shuddering. “Then why are you doing this?” I whisper.

               “I’ll admit you’re very subtle, at least until you’re caught off guard. Then you’re very easy to read. I’m impressed you kept your little secret hidden for so long; not even Urd or Vor knew.”

               “No,” I breathe, knowing I’ve been found out.

               “Oh yes. And I’m flattered, really.”

               “Oh no.” I can feel the constriction in my chest and I’m praying to wake up from this dream.

               “Don’t get me wrong.” His finger under my chin forces my face up. “You’re very pretty but above that, you’re smart and quite the little sweetheart too, huh?”

               Feeling vulnerable and stepped on, I mutter, “Would you just get it over with?”

               His eyes almost glow in the illumination of the moon. “Alright.”

               Time stops, or perhaps that’s just my brain. It only took a slight dip of his head and Xehanort’s got his lips to mine. Due to the earlier mentioned problem of brain not working, I don’t resist his lead, falling further and further under his spell with each move. The fog in my head descends into my chest, dissipating that heavy sinking of dread, replacing it with a weightless euphoria I couldn’t have imagined.

               Xehanort breaks away but my lips chase his without my consent, stealing another kiss. When I realize what I’m doing, I pull back as far as the wall will let me, embarrassment blazing across my skin.

               “I’m so sorry,” I apologize in a whisper.

               His chuckle rattles my fragile grip on stability. “Don’t be.” My inhale comes staggered when his fingers slide into my hair. Speaking in the low voice that makes my knees weak, he murmurs, “I very much enjoy seeing how you react to me.” It takes everything I have not to lunge at him when his lips barely graze mine as he continues. “I look forward to seeing just what other reactions I can get from you.”

               “What do you mean?”

               “Saturday, I’m taking you to that founding festival coming up. Sound like a plan?”

               I can’t tell if I’m trembling or not, but I manage a steady answer. “Yes.”

               “Good.” Finally he relents and gives me a third kiss but it’s far more casual and relaxed—I still want more.

               The boy breaks away from me, clearly amused at the shaken state he’s left me in. Clinging to the books against my chest, I glance away.

               “You really are cute, you know that?” It’s in a teasing tone but I can tell that he means it. I have no answer to that but my stomach apparently does and I’d like to just die now. Xehanort laughs. “Come on. I bet we can sneak something from the kitchen before they lock everything down.”

               I gasp quietly when he takes my hand and leads me away in confidence. Before we even make it out of the library, I’m smiling away like a love struck fool.

~~~~~

               I’m running a bit late today. My dumb brain wouldn’t let me sleep last night, replaying my moonlight kiss over and over; I’m pretty sure I even dreamt of it. Then I’m afraid that I actually dreamt it.

               Turning the corner, just before I enter the class, I can hear people talking. Xehanort’s in there, talking about me.

               “So I’m taking her to that festival on Saturday.”

               “There’s no way our shy little smarty is going on a date with you,” argues Urd.

               “It’s true. Had her like putty in my hands after just one kiss.” That brings a frown to my face; it’s true of course but he didn’t need to tell everyone.

               Eraqus exclaims, “Wait, you kissed her?!”

               “Yeah,” he laughs. “She’s cute when she’s all flustered.”

               He’d gotten the better of me last night and, while I very much enjoyed it, I won’t go on without it being known that I can be bold too.

               Steeling my nerves, I stalk towards the offender. Silver eyes fly wide open when I snatch fistfuls of his black jacket. With a sharp tug, I pull the boy around. His arms grasp at me as I dip him beneath me and jam my lips against his. For a brief moment, I consider taking advantage of his shock and basking in this feeling of dominance I’m sure will be rare in our relationship. However, seeing as we have an audience, I release my captive and right his posture. Pride and absolute delight fill my chest at the sight of Xehanort’s bright red face and shock.

               “I-um-uh-I-” he stammers, truly at a loss for words.

               “Yeah,” I say, beaming at my friends. “He’s cute when he’s all flustered.”

#xehanort #young xehanort #young master xehanort #ymx #xehanort x reader #young xehanort x reader #young master xehanort x reader #khdr #khdr xehanort #kh xehanort #novas requests #xeha-non #fem!reader