#like honestly fuck bread i never want to see another loaf of bread again in my life

[gobbluthbutagirl]

browsing indeed.com for bakery jobs in la...

#i literally JUST QUIT my bakery job here and vowed to never do that again #but the thing is i do like parts of my job. specifically the parts where i've finished the job i was actually hired to do #and i get to frost and decorate cakes and shit #like honestly fuck bread i never want to see another loaf of bread again in my life #but cakes cookies brownies cupcakes etc etc etc...i can live with that #and i think if i was working in like an independent bakery instead of a grocery store chain bakery i would enjoy it a lot more #and i do have a year of relevant professional experience now #and basically zero experience or education in any other field #i'm a high school dropout w/ a ged and essentially a 9th grade education so my options are pretty limited lmao #and i still ultimately want to go into acting and screenwriting but for now i'll take anything that'll make me at least 20 bucks an hour #and as it turns out....there are all kinds of bakery jobs in la that fit the bill #some of it i'm obviously not qualified for/have no interest in like pastry chef or bakery manager #and i truly would rather perish than bake bread again. even if it is artisan shit and not the premade frozen shipped-in dough at [redacted] #also donuts are a no-go. FUCK being sticky #but then i see like... cake designer/cake decorater. cupcake decorator. cake baker #and it's like from $21/hr. $20-25/hr. from $18/hr #and i'm like oh my god i could do that #not only could i do that but i could do it and enjoy it and possibly even not have to wake up at 3am to do it #i mean ik every bakery does things differently but at the store i work in now cake decorators come in at 7:30 #i would KILL to be able to wake up at 5am instead of 3 #and god if i could make 25 an hour that'd be more than double what i make now #i mean obviously like. cost of living is MUCH higher in la than in semi-rural south carolina but still #im having thoughts and feelings and feelings and thoughts...

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Adore You (Yamato x Reader)

A/N: hi guys. Yamato is your secret admirer and you are desperate to find out who's been leaving all these gifts at your doorstep. Civilian reader. Will be two parts, and since i just found out i have the coronavirus and cant leave the house, i’ll be putting out the second part very soon.

Ps i headcanon that yamato would be very shy and awkward with his crush. i also think that when he is nervous he definitely has really sweaty hands. idk thats just the vibe i get from him lol. please enjoy.

Word count: 4500

Y/N walked down the street after a long day of working in the bakery, kneading dough and icing cakes and sweets. It was a great job, and she really enjoyed the company of the two elderly owners. In her arms was another small picnic basket filled with sourdoughs and garlic loaves and cinnamon raisin buns. Those leftovers served as her breakfast, lunch, and dinner most days and it saved a lot of money on groceries.

Sometimes, she gifted the bread to friends and family though, like tonight.

As she walked the bustling streets, people walking home from work for the night, she noticed a couple of familiar faces sitting in the windows of a nearby restaurant. Feeling a little social, she walked into the restaurant and turned the corner, walking through the tables and past other booths full of people talking and drinking. It was busy tonight in Konoha, everyone getting ready for the weekend.

She came to a stop beside their table, and shifted so her basket rested in the slight curve of her hip. With her free hand she waved to the men, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Kakashi, Yamato,” she chirped, “I saw you guys in the window on my way home from work and thought I’d stop in to say hello.”

“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise.” Kakashi hummed, peering over his glass of golden liquid at his friend, who he could tell was struggling to figure out what to say or do. Yamato wasn’t normally nervous; he was very cool headed. How else would he become such an important Anbu member? But around Y/N, this woman with flour dusted in her hair and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate on her clothes, he crumbled. Just that smell alone could make Yamato lose his composure. And Kakashi knew that very well. “As a matter of fact, we were just talking about you.”

Yamato coughed on his drink, covering his mouth with his arm to keep from spitting up on the table. Even if they were just talking about her, it was completely uncalled for for Kakashi to stab him in the back like that. He turned to face the young woman who looked down at him with curiosity in her eyes.

“Really? What about?” she questioned, raising a brow.

He averted his eyes to the table again where his hand rested clutching at the glass. “We were just discussing the bakery,” he explained sheepishly, a hand going to rub the back of his neck. He felt the stress coming on, and sweat was beginning to gather on his palms. He felt ill, and more importantly, upset with the friend sitting directly across from him, smirking under that damn mask.

What an evil bastard.

“Mind if I join you guys? I could definitely use a drink.” She motioned to the seat next to Yamato, and he scooted closer to the wall to make room for her. She made sure her basket was sealed and secure before reaching over the table to Kakashi. “Can you sit this next to you? I don’t wanna take up the whole table.”

“No problem.”

She slid into the seat beside Yamato, and he realized just how small their table really was. The chair was clearly made for one person, or maybe two small people. They were just inches away. He could literally feel the heat of her thigh beside his. He was losing his mind, he was sure of it. There was absolutely no reason to act or think this way just because of a woman, a little baker from the village. No reason. It was inappropriate.

He took a deep breath and sipped on his drink. Everything was cool. Y/N L/N was cool.

“What kind of goods are you bringing home tonight?” Yamato asked calmly.

“Uh, lets see. A sourdough loaf and a garlic rosemary loaf. Also, I have about eight cinnamon buns in there,” she listed off the top of her head, “Why? You wanna take some home with you, because that’s fine. I’m not gonna eat all of it.”

“No, not this time.”

“You, Kakashi?”

“Yeah, I’ll take whatever.” It was a free meal for the next day? How could he say no to that?

The waitress came around, and Y/N ordered a tall glass of some sweet drink, something she knew wouldn’t taste like shit but would get her all warm and cozy quick, fruit juice covering up the taste of poison. “So, what were you guys talking about before I came around? I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“It’s good you came around, actually. We could use a woman’s opinion here.” Yamato glared at Kakashi, pleading with everything he had for the copy nin to just leave it alone. Kakashi was set in his goals though, and pushed forward with what he was saying. “It’s about Tenzo.”

An even brighter smile grew on her lips, one full of mischief and curiosity. “Oohoho? I see. What’s got you men stuck?” She loved to gossip, it was just something so interesting in her mundane life. Surely, it wasn’t as interesting to shinobi who almost die all the time and always have something to do, but for a village girl who goes home every night to read and eat bread, and then go to work where she just makes and sells said bread, a bit of juicy personal information really intrigued her.

“It’s honestly not a big deal-”

“Our boy here, he’s got a crush.”

Her eyes widened and suddenly, she felt the urge to down even more of her drink. He was interested in someone? She never expected that. He was always so quiet and calm, and kept to himself. He didn’t seem like the type to ever care about someone in that way. She sighed, taking a long sip on her drink, which tasted like peaches and oranges. At least it was sweet enough to help her curb the impending sadness.

Maybe she was stupid for it, but she cared for Yamato. He was such a sweet and kind man, so earnest and gentle. He was everything good about her mornings, when he would walk in and ask for the same hot cross bun to start his day. He would smile and compliment the cake decorating she was working on, and tell her about his missions and what he had to do for the day.

Perhaps Y/N had the tiniest of crushes on Yamato. It was something she would never reveal to anyone else, but it was true. She couldn’t deny herself that fact.

Kakashi stared at the woman, gauging her reaction to the statement. From the way she immediately went to sip away half of the drink in her glass, and the way her shoulders curled in on themselves, he could guess how she was feeling. He wasn’t usually a fan of meddling in other people’s business, but he was beginning to feel tired of Yamato complaining day in and day out about how he could never get the girl or express his feelings. He was afraid of rejection, as sad as that might be.

He was just there to give them a push in the right direction.

“I see.”

“What do you think he should do? What do the civilian girls like?”

This crush was just another civilian. It would be one thing if he fell in love with a kunoichi, someone she would never be able to compete with, but the thought of him choosing another normal woman over her, the envy practically oozed from her pores. What did this other girl have that Y/N didn’t?

Y/N ordered another drink when the waitress walked by. And then another after she drank the second one. Might as well get more down and drown out these jealous thoughts.

Meanwhile, she listed off things that random women normally like when men do for them, things she didn't really care about like chocolates and asking them out to dinner and giving them stuffed animals. Boring things. Things they all already knew. Kakashi agreed that the advice was kinda bland, and he could have come up with that easily.

Yamato eyed her down nervously as she practically chugged the rest of her drink. The woman wasn’t a big drinker, just a couple innocent cocktails here or there, never with the intention of getting drunk.

“You okay, Y/N?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” she told him smoothly. “Anyway, I’m not done telling you all about us village girls.”

The third drink came by and she sighed, taking another long sip. At least it tasted good, that made it easy to drink and drink and drink.

“Maybe you should slow down.”

“Maybe you should worry about yourself. I’m grown. I can handle myself, Yamato.” He felt a pang in his chest at her sharp words, ones that he’d never really heard directed toward him. She scolded Kakashi on the daily for being a pervert, but only kind words met Yamato’s ears previously. “Anyway, about this girl. Have you tried getting her anything as a gift? The things I listed before? Love notes? That sorta thing?”

He shook his head. “Well, no. I haven’t tried anything yet.”

“That’s the thing about you, Tenzo. You’re so modest. If you want the girl, you need to go in and get her. You need to show her what she means to you, since you can’t bring yourself to just outright tell her.”

“The whole bold displays of affection aren’t my thing.”

She hummed, her head lolling from side to side as she twirled the straw of her drink in between her fingers. “Maybe you should try some roundabout approach since you’re so scared of rejection. Send her anonymous letters and gifts, give her little clues that it’s you and see how she reacts.”

“Like a secret admirer?"

“Exactly! That’s sooo romantic. I wish some guy would do that shit for me.”

Kakashi raised a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Of course. I’m almost 27 and I’ve never had a long lasting relationship. I just want some guy to really, I don’t know, just love me. Love who I am, not hook up with me for my body or-or only pretend to like me for coupons on bread,” she complained, quite loudly as well. “Fuck those guys and their bread discounts...”

“Y/N-”

“I’d suggest you do something like that for your crush. Make her feel like you really care about her mind and soul.” Y/N clutched her hand over her heart and squeezed the front of her dress. “So many men nowadays act like horny teenagers, and us ladies are sick of it.”

She really did not need to go into such detail, and Yamato could tell she was drinking too much. Y/N would never say these things aloud if she were completely in her right mind. He felt rude just sitting there letting her rant on and on, exposing her own feelings to the table. But at the same time, he was grateful to know what she wanted in a lover. She never really let on what her romantic life was like, other than single for the most part.

That is what he and Kakashi were discussing before she came around. He was desperate to sweep her off her feet and woo her, to make revealing his feelings easier. Kakashi told him to just go to the bakery and tell her right then and there, but that was just too bold. He wasn’t going to go in without a plan, it was irrational.

“Yamato, I’m telling you, if this woman rejects you, she’s fucking stupid. You’re a catch. You and Kashi over there, both of you could get any woman you want, and that’s a fact.” the woman waved her hand to emphasize her point, only to knock the rest of her fourth drink over into her lap, sticky syrup soaking into her apron and through to her skirt. “Oh man.”

“I think it’s time for you to head home, little miss Y/N,” Kakashi chimed in, “This is exactly why we don’t bring you to bars, you know.”

“Shush. I am fine.”

Yamato sighed, motioning with his hands for her to move to the edge of the seat. He rolled his eyes at her words, knowing she was talking out the ass. “Yeah, yeah. Just get up, Y/N. I’m taking you home.”

Both men were surprised when she lifted her hand and pushed him away from her. Her glare was intense, anger behind those eyes. “No! Not you. I want Kakashi to walk me home.” The man was taken aback by the harshness in her tone. She was normally calm tempered, but her head was spinning and she was obviously growing moody.

“That’s fine by me. Yamato, you’ll pick up the bill for us and uh, clean this mess, right?” Kakashi smirked as he slid out from the booth and picked up her bag of baked goods. She followed suit, climbing out of her seat and grabbing onto the shinobi’s arm tightly. He really couldn’t care any less about her nonsense. It had been so long since they became friends, he’d seen her in every mood imaginable, and much drunker than this. He’s walked her home more than a few times in their past years.

“Curse you, cheap-ass.”

“Gotta go.”

With that, the white haired man walked out the restaurant with a woman in tow. They lived in the same direction, so he started down the street as she stumbled after him, tripping occasionally on pebbles. He felt bad for his friend, really. But the answer was clear as day now. Y/N cared for Yamato a lot more than she let on. It was just up to one of them to make a move. He couldn't do everything for them.

She tripped along beside him, letting her head fall against his shoulder a few times. Her eyes slid up to the man’s masked face, and he felt her hands begin to quiver a bit around his arm, just a tiny bit, but it was still there. Those little, very-telling, tremors.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked gently, knowing she would immediately spill whatever was stuck on her mind.

“Kashi, why does Tenzo want some other village girl?” she questioned, her cheeks puffing out and her eyes getting watery with tears. “Why doesn’t he want me? I want him so badly, it hurts right here.” she placed her free hand over her stomach and gagged. “I might throw up, it hurts so much.”

“Trust me, it’s gonna be okay,” he hushed, a tiny smile on his lips. He didn’t want to reveal too much to her, but it was just so amusing pulling the strings like this. Two of his friends, one a subordinate and the other a sneaky baker, falling for each other right in front of him. With all the work piling up, this was definitely a refreshing take.

“Also, you shouldn't throw up. It'll burn your throat, you know.”

She nodded, and just clutched onto her stomach as they made their way down the narrow alleyways toward her small apartment. He unlocked the door for her when she struggled to fit the key into the tiny hole that blurred together with everything else. He was a good friend, she thought, and made a mental note to thank him next time she saw him. Well, she tried to make a mental note, but when her body hit the mattress in the corner of her small studio, she found herself drifting away.

__________

God, her head hurt so badly she thought her skull was cracking open right then and there, as she lifted her head from her pillow. Light shined in through the window only to make things worse than before. She looked around the room and noticed that her coat was hung up properly on the hook and her shoes were sitting by the door. Her basket rested atop her counter.

Most importantly, on her nightstand sat a glass of water and a couple pills, ready for her to take the moment she woke up. Kakashi or Yamato must have walked her home and put her to bed. They were very nice men, she enjoyed having them as friends, she just worried she had made a drunken fool of herself last night in front of them. She rarely drank heavily, for that reason. She couldn’t even remember what happened, just that she met them at the restaurant and then the rest fell empty in her mind, little images blending together until she couldn’t decipher a thing that happened. She was more than ashamed.

How could she lose control of herself so casually, she wondered. She never even wanted to drink, much less enough to give her this searing headache. Something must have happened last night that influenced her decisions. Maybe she had a drinking contest with Kakashi like that one time before. If so, that was completely uncalled for on the man’s part. He knew her tolerance.

Nevertheless, she needed to get ready for work. A hangover wasn’t enough to heed the workings of the bakery.

She took the pills, and threw off her covers, walking over to her counter to take out one of the cinnamon rolls, taking a big bite to curb her hunger pains. After taking a moment to compose herself, she got ready for work. If she was late, she knew the owners would be forgiving, but she still felt bad regardless. She was going to walk in looking like a complete disaster.

As she headed out her door that morning, she stumbled on something sitting right at the foot of her doorstep on the welcome mat. Resting there, in a tiny little ceramic pot, stood a bonsai tree, trimmed and cared for perfectly. Her eyes scanned the area for who could have set it there, but met only empty space.

Hesitantly, she picked it up and brought it into her home. There was no note attached, nothing to signal who’d given it to her. Just a little tree that she would put on her window sill. It was strange, she had to admit that, to receive an anonymous gift at such an hour. She’d have to ask her friends about it later on to see if one of them had given it to her, for reasons she didn’t know.

But as the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, she continued to receive gifts every few days. More tiny trees in pots, sometimes flowers in little glass vases. None of them at first had anything attached until the most recent piece which when she picked it up to take into her home, a folded piece of paper sat beneath the vase. She made sure to pick it and put it in her apron to read on her break when she went to work. She didn’t have the time when she woke up only about 20 minutes before she was due at her job.

She was more than grateful for the little garden she was accumulating on her window sill, the beautiful flowers and trees somehow surviving despite her little knowledge of taking care of them. She stopped by a flower store in town to get some fertilizer just to keep them alive. It would be a shame if they died since someone was being so kind as to give them to her.

With her boring life, the flowers brought a smile to her face and a warmth in her heart that she hadn’t felt before. Regardless of who was leaving the items there, she felt like she was important to someone. Some person was taking time out of their day to show they cared about her.

Truthfully, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wished it was Yamato leaving her gifts. She’d been attracted to the man for quite some time, ever since they met really. He was just so strong and brave, and awkward in a cute kind of way. He was truly the only man of her affections, and she could only dream she was the object of his as well.

It was more than unlikely though. He was a strong ninja of the leaf. The chances of someone that amazing wanting to be with someone as simple as the town baker were lower than she wanted to admit. He most likely had his eyes set on some gorgeous kunoichi like Shizune or Kurenai. Someone he could relate to, really.

It was embarrassing to even admit she had a crush on him. It made her feel so tiny and weak, knowing that she wasn’t his ideal.

So she pushed that thought from her mind. Yamato would never be interested in her, and he most certainly not the one leaving her little notes and plants.

What she did know was that this person was a shinobi. Maybe not Yamato, but they were definitely a shinobi. She set up a trap, at least one she thought a normal person would fall for. Right before her door, she set up a tiny trip wire made of floss at the perfect level for someone to pull loose when they walked up to leave a gift on her welcome mat. Her room was at the very end of the hallway, so there was no way anyone else except her secret admirer was the one to set off the trap. Any normal person without the high perception of a shinobi would set off the trap and she would be able to narrow down the results to a civilian.

Only, the morning after she set up the trip wire, when she opened her door, there sat another bouquet of flowers, as well as an untripped strip of floss.

This person had to be a shinobi. She concluded. It was the only explanation in her mind, desperate to find out who the mystery person was all this time.

As she walked the streets that afternoon after the store had closed, her eyes honed in on Yamato, who stood next to a vegetable stand picking up some groceries. Immediately, she turned on her heel and cornered him between the squash and the sweet potatoes.

“Yamato, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. Do you mind?” she practically demanded, and his eyes widened. He did not expect such an abrupt conversation between them. He shifted awkwardly to rest his grocery bag in the crook of his elbow and lean on his left side, arms crossed over his chest.

He knew what she wanted to talk about. It was about those gifts that he had been giving her. It was just a matter of whether she had figured out it was him or not, that was the question. He was kinda hoping she didn’t know yet. He was not ready to face what came after the reveal, rejection or otherwise. He really hadn’t thought it that far out yet. How could he. Just thinking up love notes and what plants to give her next was more than enough to worry about.

But damn, when he looked down at her, hair dusted with flour from a days work, a smudge of cake batter still on her forearm, apron a complete mess, he wanted to cave and tell her everything. She was just so beautiful, so clumsily perfect he couldn’t help but lose his train of thought. He swore he’d never seen a woman more perfect than her, not even Naruto’s sexy jutsu could come close to this girl.

He found his ears heating up and no doubt turning red at the thoughts running through his mind, and he was quick to smother them down. He was not irrationally emotional. Hell, he was ANBU, he should be able to control his emotions down to a tee.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I have a secret admirer, and I know they are a shinobi.”

He felt himself growing nervous. How had she deduced that? “Ah, that’s definitely exciting for you. How do you know it’s a shinobi?”

“I know because I set up a tripwire last night and the person didn’t set it off, so I know they are coordinated enough to avoid it. This isn’t just some random village boy. This is someone skilled.”

“Y/N, he could have very well just avoided the trap with his natural gait, don’t you think?” he tried to reason with her, try to get her off his trail. Admittedly, he thought she was quite clever for setting up the trap. When he walked over it the night before, he swore it was just a spider web. He didn’t even consider the possibility of a trap in his way.

If only he could throw her off his scent. He needed more time. He couldn’t confess to her now. It was too abrupt, too sudden. He would probably die.

“No, I’m convinced it’s a shinobi.”

Shit. “Well, what are you going to do now?”

She thought for a short moment on what she was going to say, tapping her foot on the ground beside her. Her eyes widened and she smiled at the thought that ran through her mind. Of course, it was so obvious. “The gifts come sporadically, so I know that the shinobi can’t leave gifts when they are on missions. Next time there is a long break in gifts, I will just ask around to figure out who has been on a mission for a while. Bam, I’ve got my answer. It’s foolproof.”

She really had thought this through more than him. She was too good, and he felt himself panicking. He had a weeklong mission in 3 days, and if she asked anyone, they would tell her it was him. He felt moisture gather up at his brow, and he internally cursed his situation. He had to find some way out of this mess without her figuring out it was him.

“Yeah, that could definitely work. I hope it all works out for you, Y/N,” he lied through his teeth.

“I know. I’m just smart like that, aren’t I?”

“You sure are,” he muttered, but honestly, he just wanted to go off and find Kakashi. He needed to talk to him. His eyes slid away from Y/N and he sighed. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t forget to stop by before your next mission to get some of our special food pills, okay? I just made a new batch and you can try them free of charge. Anything for a fella as handsome as yourself.” She laughed, shifting her weight to press a hand to her hip.

Jeez. There was no good reason for her looking so adorable. Calling him handsome as well? It was all too much for his heart to handle. Needless to say, he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t walk away right then. With that, he simply nodded before patting her shoulder. “Like I said, gotta go.”

“Oh, okay. See you around.”

“See you.”

He walked away quickly, heading in the direction of Kakashi’s apartment, knowing he just had to do something about the mess he was currently in, and ways to avoid the inevitable. His heart was racing so fast he thought he might be having a heart attack. How could he be swayed so easily by a pretty face. He had no idea, but he really wanted it to stop. For the sake of his sanity, he needed to learn to be calm around her.

He would tell her soon, get all this off his chest and share his true feelings. He just needed a bit more time.

#yamato tenzo #yamato x reader #naruto x reader #naruto one shot #yamato one shot #naruto imagines #tenzo #naruto #naruto shippuden #sorry for getting this out so late i was so tired from my new accelerated geography class i almost died #but here we are #my sick ass will have the second one out probably tmr night maybe sunday morning #yamato imagine

[admiringlove]

VIII: saudade; you love him too.

— you tell him what it’s like to be in love with his reckless self, and he can’t help but smile.

+pairing: miya atsumu x reader.

+genre: crossover(hq x hp); fluff; angst; frenemies to lovers.

+word count: 2.4k.

+warnings: angst to fluff, because if there isn’t fluff y’all would kill me.

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @tetsurolls @velvetfireworks @kritiiiii @1wai@seijohlogy​ @sweetrosemilktea @bellesowl @ems1des​ @akaashi-todorki @tanaka-ryu​ @irishhbamb​ @sweetsamus​ @cherriechurros @mxshimoo @bluebirdandcomrades @zukuroo @denki-core @sarahvvictoria​ @littlevoxine

+author’s notes: taglist officially closed <3

+navigation: previous, masterlist, next.

Miya Atsumu was a person who tended to overthink a lot—whether it be his own decisions or his words. Mainly, it was his actions.

What he regretted the most, was this. The walk of shame to his own dorm room in the middle of the night, after doing the same thing he used to do for the past few years to take his mind off of you, made his heartstrings clench in repentance. His eyes were glued to his feet when he finally made his way to the Common Room, his throat as dry as sand, and lumps the size of pudding cups forming in his throat. He sighed, mumbling in the password in a morose tone.

He walked in, fixing his black turtle-neck as his eyes landed on you by the fire. Your back faced towards him, as a small smile made its way onto his lips, immediately disintegrating when he realized what he had just done.

He could hear small sobs coming from your direction, a slight tug of his mind wanting to come and comfort you from them. Whatever your problems might be, he wanted to push them all away. He wanted to make whoever, or whatever, caused your pain to be reminded that he was always protecting you.

Most importantly, he wanted to know why your heart was hurting. What made you cry like this?

Your eyes were glistening when you got up from where you were sitting, the invisibility cloak in your hands as you turned around and widened your bloodshot eyes after seeing Atsumu. You brought up a hand to stifle a sob, trying your hardest to not make him hear it, as you almost sprinted towards the stairs towards the girls' dormitory.

"[Y/N], wait—"

He flinched when you slammed the door to your dormitory, sighing too loudly as his gaze downcasted yet again. He shuffles up the stairs to his own room, where he sees Osamu and Suna sitting up and chatting.

"Why the hell are you two still up?" Atsumu groaned, walking to his trunk as he sifted through shirts to wear to bed, then deciding on sleeping without one.

"Oh, we're just casually chitchatting about what a fuckin' knobhead ya are," Osamu grunts, Suna placing a hand on his shoulder, muttering, "Calm down, Moony. Sakusa and Aran'll wake up if you shout."

"For Merlin's sake, 'Samu, I'm not in the mood," Atsumu shrugs his younger twin off, heading to his bed as Suna throws the map at his head.

"Oi, be careful!"

"Where's [Y/N]?" Suna asks, his arms folded across his chest as he leans on the front door, raising an eyebrow at the yellow-haired male in disappointment.

"In her dorm, saw 'er go up when I came in," Atsumu says, completely clueless as to what Suna was hinting towards.

"Swear to fuckin' Salazar," Osamu flops into his bed, pulling the duvet over his head as he murmurs, "Yer so dumb."

"'Samu, shut yer trap for a second," Atsumu brings a hand up to gesture to Osamu to stay quiet, continuing to pay attention to the wolf talking.

"Where's the girl you were snogging?" Suna sighed, ruffling his hair as he sat down on his bed, as Atsumu shrugs to the question—a clear indicator that he does not know.

"Merlin's Beard," Osamu grumbles, earning an annoyed expression from Atsumu who closes his eyes shut in inconvenience. Atsumu raises an eyebrow, not being able to put two-and-two together, as Suna finally says the words Atsumu would probably dread to hear.

"[Y/N] saw you snogging the girl by the Astronomy Tower," Suna says quickly, pulling the duvet over his head finally as Atsumu's eyes widen in shock.

All the mustard-furred fox wants right now is to run to you and apologize a million times—because whatever he has to say right now is probably not enough. Just a few minutes ago, he wanted to make your worries fade away. He wanted to teach whoever made you sad a lesson—but how could he, when the person who hurt you was Atsumu himself?

Osamu turned in his bed when he saw Atsumu sitting there, staring off into space, rather than going to bed. The grey-haired knew that Atsumu probably felt immense guilt, but what could he say? His twin brother had messed up on his own, and now he had to deal with it on his own as well.

And Osamu knew, that in no way possible would it be easy.

You slammed the door to your dorm, muffling your sobs the best you could as you shut your eyes and slid down the door. Hugging your knees to your chest, and when you finally looked up, you saw that all of your roommates were sitting there, looking at you with pity in their eyes.

You hated this. You hated Miya Atsumu. You hated being pitied.

"[Y/N]—" Alisa started but quickly stopping when Kiyoko gave her a certain look. You opened your mouth to say something, but it seemed as if your own body was in denial, not wanting to listen to your mind. You sighed, your eyes bleeding seawater as you bit your lip until a metallic taste filled your senses. You wanted an out—no matter what it was, you just wanted to get out of here. Everything reminded you of him, you just wanted to go back home to the haunting memories instead of staying here.

"Hold on a minute, darling, why are you crying?" Hana says, walking up to you and handing you a glass of water. You push it away, shaking your head as you mutter out incomprehensible words. Hana's features softened, as she helped you get up and into bed, everyone else giving you your space as the oldest in the room bid you a good night with a ruffle of your hair.

As the lights in the dorm finally went off, you tried your best to fall asleep, but couldn't when all your thoughts were swarmed by a certain blonde.

When all the other students walked to breakfast for their normal Saturday morning, you made your way to the Black Lake. You remembered to carry a small loaf of bread, throwing in a few crumbles every few minutes so the fishes underneath your dangling feet eat them. You sighed, your mind racing at a million light-years per second.

Were you not good enough?

Was that it? Why couldn't Atsumu even ask if you felt the same? It was true that your love for him was just beginning to bloom—but if you had realized it sooner then maybe it wouldn't have gotten to such a point where every inch of your being wanted to burst into tears or sulk in a lightless room. If he loved you, then why was it that he was with a girl yesterday? Was she more pretty, or more talented? Was she better in Quidditch, or did she make him laugh?

Did he fall in love with her, forgetting about you in the process?

You heard footsteps behind you, causing a small sigh to escape your cerise lips. You didn't want to look at whoever it was, your mind simply longing to shut yourself out of existence.

"[Y/N]," the all-too-familiar voice says. You closed your eyes, your mind screaming a 'no' loudly and repeatedly, dreading whatever the older Miya twin has to say.

"Leave me the hell alone, Miya," you grumble, tossing in another few breadcrumbs into the sheer water. He winced at the tone and the way you said his last name—the former nickname discarded somewhere he couldn't reach. He closed his eyes, sucking in a breath as he said, "'Samu told me you saw."

"Well, I'd like you to leave me alone. Because whatever stupid apology you have prepared, I don't want to hear it," you rasped, your expression turning into a nasty scowl as the boy was taken aback. Your previous banters in these past years were never as serious as the matter at hand, so he couldn't tell how he was supposed to react according to the cold manner.

"I don't deserve you," he mumbles, "I know you just said you didn't want to hear an apology from me. But honestly, there's nothing else I can say to you except the fact that I don't deserve you."

You scoffed, getting up as you threw in the last bits of bread in your palms, as you finally faced him. His gloved hands in his coat as you huffed, "You didn't even care to ask how I felt, did you?"

"What?"

"You got mad that I 'ignored' you for sometime, so you fucking ignore me back. I'm rude to you for what, a few days to figure out how I feel, and you go ahead and get mad. You're such a petty little shit, Miya," you hissed, gritting your teeth at the last sentence as you continued, "You didn't think once to come and ask me why I ignored you. No, you just went along with it—"

"Hey, I asked!"

"Fine, you asked. But did you understand why I was behaving that way, you knob?" you raised an eyebrow, staring into his eyes as if it's the last banter you get with him, "No. You ignored me after that, which led to this."

"You said you hated me, don't you dare go back on your word, [L/N]," his voice cracks as he takes a step closer to you, grabbing your arm so you don't fall into the water behind you, "You made me think that you hated me, so I backed off. What else was I supposed to do? I didn't expect you to walk into the Shrieking Shack just for me!"

"Because I wanted to tell you that I loved you too! But you were in over your head so you didn't listen!"

"Wait, what?!" Atsumu yelled in surprise, his clutch on you becoming tighter as he continued, "And you didn't think to tell me beforehand?"

"On the first day of school, you lost a certain book. Don't you remember?" you murmur, voice undeniably small as your shy eyes avert their gaze from him. A juxtaposition of anger, fear, and anxiety mixing in your heart. You simply wanted an out more than anything at this moment—an abditory sounding better than to admit stealing his book.

"My diary, yeah. Wait a minute, I found it under my bed the next day. How do you know 'bout that? Even 'Samu doesn't—" the fox paused, mumbling obscure words under his breath as he put two-and-two together, "You stole it?!"

"I didn't steal it!" you fought back, "I found it. I didn't read anything but the first page, because I started to feel guilty and so I wanted to return it because you would kill me if you noticed I had it. On the night we met here, of all places, I returned it to your room. Merlin's beard, I almost got caught by you too—"

"[Y/N]."

"And then I went to the Black Lake and I was conflicted because I thought you loved someone. That was when I actually realized I was really in love with you, because damn, it hurts when you find out that something you've had all along isn't yours anymore—"

"[Y/N]," Atsumu almost wanted to laugh. You were flailing your hands around as you rambled on about. He was listening to whatever you said, and he was completely entranced. Because now he really understood why he loved you. Simply spending some time with you made his heart bloom like a hibiscus on a hot summer day. And you continued, "But then your stupid arse decided to take me to the Shrieking Shack and show me that you were an animagus. I swear, who does that? The girl, God, I saw her and I felt so bad for just being with you because she nicely asked me to set you up with her."

"Wait, you wanted to set me up with her?" Atsumu asked, his mouth turning into an almost overjoyed smile, "That's—"

"Shut it!" you yelled, "That's why I ignored you. I thought you'd be better off without me, and now I'm starting to think you are."

Dejected, you begin to walk off, but somehow, just somehow, Miya Atsumu gets the smallest sliver of courage to tell you how much he cares for you—how much he wants you to stay, how much he wants to hold you, and how in love he actually is.

He takes a step forward, catching your wrist and tugging slightly, making you look back at him. The winter breeze making you look like an angel as the sky decided that it was time to shower Hogwarts with white specks of joy.

"You have no idea how much I waited to tell you I loved you," he began, "I love you so much, [L/N]."

"Why'd you run off with another girl last night, then?" you choked out a sob, tugging Atsumu's heartstrings forcefully. He opened his mouth to speak when he realized he doesn't exactly have proper reasoning for why he did what he did. You let out a dry chuckle, the atmosphere thickening as you shook off his hand and began walking.

"On the second page of my diary," he begins, "I talk about our nightly trips around Hogwarts."

"Atsumu, don't—"

"Please, just listen to me," he begs, "On the second page of my diary, I talk about how much I want to be with you. I talk about how yer one of the only things that give me happiness, and I talk about the little things you do depending on yer mood."

You chuckle as you let out a sob, but he continues, "I want to see more of it, y'know? The little thing with your hand that you do usually when you're nervous—trust me, I've seen a lot of it when you're around me. I love how yers eyes light up when eating Treacle Tarts, and I adore how you can come back with ten times the insults I throw at ya."

"You're going to make me stay, dummy," you say, with a rueful smile on your face, as he chuckles, "That's the intention, slug."

"I thought you hated me," he says, making your heart swell up, "I avoided you because I thought you hated me. And yesterday, I-I did that 'cause I didn't wanna bother you anymore. I thought," he paused, sucking in a breath, "I thought if I distance myself enough then you won't hate me anymore."

"What am I supposed to say to that, you idiot?" you laugh, to hide what you really wanted to say. You brushed your hair out of your face, walking closer to the boy. And without saying anything, he wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you even closer as he whispers into your ear, "I'm so in love with you, slug."

"I'm so in love with you too, 'Tsumu."

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

#miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu angst #atsumu miya #miya atsumu fanfiction #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu miya fanfiction #atsumu angst #atsumu x reader #hq #hq!! #haikyuu!! #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyuu angst #hq!! osamu #hq!! suna #hq!! hana

[featherfur]

Big Knife Meet Little Blind Ch.1

Xue Yang meets A-Qing before he meets Xiao Xingchen and decides he needs a disciple. Somehow he ends up with a kid, a heart, and an absolute mess of a cultivation world.

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Murder, Questionable Child Rearing, Xue Yang and A-Qing's potty mouth, Xue Yang isn't a good person and needs to get there, will eventually be SongXiaoXue, this is for fun and updates will be sporadic if at all so read at your own risk

The timeline's a little wonky to make it fit better. Xue Yang is 15 and A-Qing meets him at 4 around the time that Wei Wuxian dies. This is a mix of MDZS Novel and The Untamed, mostly the MDZS Novel but I'll take some liberties and cross over.

Read me on: AO3. Chapter Two

There were a lot of moments in Xue Yang’s life where he could look back on and go wow that was fucking stupid. Not that he would ever admit to that and, being fifteen, would absolutely not learn from his past mistakes. Unless it was to kill someone a little better, but that’s not the point.

The point is that Xue Yang managed to acquire a four year old child and he wasn’t thinking about how much of a responsibility that was, so much as he was wondering how long a child had to wait before they could hold a sword. The man who had helped Xue Yang cultivate a golden core a few years back had always chattered on and on about how you needed a young disciple so they’d never listen to anyone else.

That was probably good advice considering Xue Yang had killed him when he turned thirteen for being a general pain in the ass. (If anyone remembered the wild child who had flung themselves forward with a sword to kill the old man after watching him kick a child under the wheels of a cart, they were already dead or had the sense not to bring it up after watching only one person walk out of the scene alive.)

A-Qing was a quiet thing, usually. She’d managed to swindle Xue Yang out of a few coins by pleading about being blind and starving while wearing ragged clothing to sell it better, only to get caught a few minutes later when she ran directly to him to hide from whoever she’d stolen from. Xue Yang was impressed with her almost immediately and simply carried her off with the promise of dinner.

Xue Yang did not have a soft spot for abandoned kids, they weren’t his problem obviously. He did however have an incessant need to have things and he wanted a disciple. One that would be loyal to him and him only. It wasn’t like that was hard to do, people were so eager to give themselves over to someone else. Even the old man had been easy to fool into believing anything Xue Yang had said.

So there he was, fifteen, with a round-faced and probably feral four year old on his knee devouring a loaf of bread, and he finally realized that it may have been a stupid decision. He didn’t actually want to raise a child, what did one even do with a kid?

He was vaguely certain that you had to feed and water them but what else? Train them to sit and stay?

He probably should have taken his chances with someone a little older, around eight or so, so he could just hand them a sword and that would be all.

Then again, he realized with one hand moving to the back of A-Qing’s neck, he could still do that. No one had to know he grabbed the little brat and honestly a quick death was more merciful than dropping her back on the street, probably the only mercy Xue Yang had ever actually known.

White eyes blinked up at him, completely uncomprehending of the danger she was in, and then they flashed with something. She started patting herself down quickly, finding a small purse after a few seconds and pushed it towards him.

“What the hell is this?” Xue Yang grumbled, flicking it open and half expecting to find old food or bugs. Instead it was a pouch filled with money. A-Qing’s eyes were bright with the glimmering all bratty kids had when they got away with something they shouldn’t have.

“That’s why I was running.” She said pleasantly, either unaware or uncaring of any sort of moral dilemma other people would have. “Here. To pay you back.”

Her words weren’t the smoothest, and she didn’t have any idea of how to ‘pay him back’, but somehow his heart managed to soften just enough for him to move his hand from her neck. She was already prepared to steal, she had no problems faking blindness, and she seemed attached to him. He could work with this.

And, well, if he got annoyed he really could just kill her later.

“Well, Little Blind,” He hummed and pocketed the money to offer her a piece of fruit instead this time, “I think we’re going to work well together.”

_

Xue Yang thought everything was going well, he trained privately under a new master provided by Jin Guangyao during the day, then he returned to the little shack he had and made sure A-Qing hadn’t died while he was gone. It worked well for them and A-Qing didn’t seem to mind sitting next to the river for hours until he returned home as long as there was food to shove into her mouth.

Every day he’d come home to find her with one of her numerous sticks slapping at the water and the fish playfully. Sometimes she actually managed to trap one and they got to cook it for dinner. Other times she was so soaked with water that Xue Yang made the executive decision that it was Bath day and dropped her right back into the river to scrub both of them off and take the time to scold A-Qing for being a menace and a brat and ruining the nice things Xue Yang gave her.

The scoldings only worked for the first week and by the second A-Qing had turned the scoldings back on him, for coming home with blood on him.

Him. Xue Yang, a well known delinquent and killer, was being scolded by a four year old.

Somehow it managed to be more amusing than annoying and Xue Yang just dropped fish guts on her hair until she yowled like a cat.

For the first year it was rather peaceful and nice, not that Xue Yang would ever say it out loud, to come home to actually have someone there. Not to mention when he managed to wrangle her into half decent clothes and could take her with him into town, suddenly people were much more willing to trade things for half price. He could also release her like a dog and watch her disappear into the crowd and meet back up with her ten minutes later with a purse full of stolen money or whatever shiny ornament they’d seen and wanted.

Once he’d even brought her to his training when he knew he would be experimenting with the fierce corpses. She’d been mystified immediately, holding onto his hand as she leaned as close to the cages as she’d dared and turned to look up at him.

“Are they dead?”

“Yep,” He chirped happily, scooping her up onto his hip and moving closer. “Want to see what they can do?”

At her nod, Xue Yang called out to the corpse closest to him pulling at the resentful energy to command it. It wasn’t as easy as Wei Wuxian had it with his flute, though Xue Yang would do anything to have a chance to talk to him about it, but with the thick needles Xue Yang had shoved in their head the day before it was manageable.

Obeying his commands the corpse turned slowly towards one of the unconscious humans slumped against the wall in the back. Xue Yang walked with the corpse so A-Qing didn’t have to strain her neck, and with a flick of resentful energy demanded that the corpse rip the human open starting with the ribs.

A-Qing screamed when the corpse buried it’s fist in the human’s stomach and gripped the ribs, pulling and pulling until it tore the flesh, a dying scream echoing around the room. Her face was buried in his neck long enough that Xue Yang was starting to think maybe that gore wasn’t good enrichment for children and maybe he really should have read those books the Aunty from the dumpling shop gave him.

He didn’t want to break A-Qing, what use was she if she was broken? But how else could a kid get used to blood if it wasn’t shown to them?

Maybe, he thought with a subconscious stroke of her hair, he should have started with killing a chicken for dinner. Or maybe a cat, though A-Qing really liked cats so he’d have to pick a dog or a bird so she wouldn’t cry too much.

Then A-Qing chanced another glance, fingers still curled into the neckline of his robes, and seemed to be watching in fascination as the fierce corpse pulled out each organ and devoured them. She still shrank away when Xue Yang stepped closer to the cage but she didn’t scream again and Xue Yang knew he had this parenting thing down.

Kids were easy, you just had to feed and water them and show them some blood and they were happy.

“What do you think? Want to save the tongue for dinner?” Xue Yang teased her, cackling madly when she gave him a disgusted look.

“He didn’t wash his hands, it’s dirty, you said not to eat dirty food.” A-Qing scowled at him like she thought he was pranking her.

“Yes, yes of course, silly me.” He snickered despite himself, turning to place her down on one of the stools and approaching the cage alone. Despite A-Qing’s grumbling he still ordered the fierce corpse to rip out the tongue and bring it to him.

“I’m not eating that.” A-Qing spat when she saw him grab it with his bare hands. Xue Yang barely gave her an irritated look before he was moving towards the small fire pit and snagging a tea kettle.

Say what you want about him, Xue Yang still personally thought that Jin Guangyao was more insane than he was just for the fact that he had an entire set up for tea right next to a corpse cage.

“You’ll eat whatever I give you, brat.” Xue Yang snapped over at her before dropping the tongue into the kettle with water and set it over the pit. “Besides, this isn’t for you.”

He paused as took in the potential consequences of his actions for the first and probably last time of his life. He couldn’t stick a finger on why but he knew he didn’t want Jin Guangshan to find out about A-Qing. He’d been hiding her well, though he was sure Jin Guangyao had an idea, he didn’t want either Jin masterminds to know exactly how close Xue Yang was to her or what she looked like.

If he took the tongue tea to Jin Guangyao then he would want to see what Xue Yang was doing which would lead him right back to A-Qing. But Xue Yang really wanted to watch him drink it. Maybe instead he could ask for a few disciples to see what the effects of drinking human flesh tea vs fierce corpse flesh tea were.

The temptation tugged at him for a while before an actual tug made him look down.

A-Qing squeezed between him and the fire pit and bent down to light it with the flint and steel next to it. She had thought he wasn’t moving because he couldn’t figure out how to light the fire!

Xue Yang didn’t know if he was warmed by that or irritated that she thought he couldn’t do something so simple. Still, he just watched as she carefully set the logs on fire and nearly lost the flint into the inferno as the flames licked at her hands. They were moving faster than her little hands could get away and he knew immediately she would be burnt if he didn’t step in

He covered them with his own on instinct, ignoring the way the heat burned his knuckles and tugged her to the safety of his side instead. He could see the glistening skin on the back of his hands that were proof of his idiotic move and glared down at her. She grabbed for his hands, shrinking down when she saw the fury on his face.

“How many times have I told you not to play with fire? How stupid are you? Look what you did.” He snapped, ripping his hands away from her and staring at the bubbling skin instead. Forget how stupid she was, what the fuck was his problem? Why did he intervene instead of letting her learn her lesson?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Yang-ge, I didn’t-” A-qing babbled as Xue Yang cursed at the pain steadily increasing. He kicked the pot of water and tongue over onto the fire and grabbed her by the back of her robes.

She yelped as she was dragged forward towards the exit, Xue Yang slowly getting quieter and quieter even as he radiated fury and killing intent. The hand on the back of her robes was tightening by the second, dragging her so quickly that her feet stumbled and he was hauling her across the floor instead.

She’d felt Xue Yang come home with the aftereffects of resentful energy clinging to him but she’d never felt him like this. It was suffocating and nauseating, but she was too terrified to even scream. Everything changed so quickly she didn’t know what to think, one moment he was laughing and now he.. He .. he was going to....

He didn’t respond when she called out to him, ignoring her yelp when her knees hit the stairs he was climbing.

Xue Yang was actively burning with murderous intent, he hated pain and when he was hurting he wanted others to hurt too. Even something as simple as his own accidental burns was enough to pour gasoline on the constant coals of fury that he held within him. He could almost taste blood in the air and craved being able to do so.

The crunch of bones under his heel was a building urge, and his hand tightened over the robes until it was clear A-Qing was lucky he hadn’t grabbed her by the neck or it’d be snapped. The familiar feeling of his sword plunging into flesh was like a phantom limb and his blood craved to feel it anew. To refresh that wonderful pleasure as he had it memorised and fill his ears with more screams then just echoes.

He finally made it to the last step, flinging open the door and tossing A-Qing in front of him. She flailed and landed in the dirt, eyes shining with tears even as Jiangzai was unsheathed.

“Yang-ge!” She cried, covering her eyes to protect herself.

A moment later she opened them when nothing came. Instead of Jiangzai being plunged into her belly it was buried in the chest of a Jin disciple who’d been unlucky enough to come check what the commotion was when he heard Xue Yang stomping up the steps.

Xue Yang looked at the corpse on his sword with blank eyes, twitching Jiangzai so the man fell to the ground in a heap instead. Usually he’d be slightly more careful so as to not invoke the wrath of Sect Leader Jin or Jin Guangyao, but this disciple had seen A-Qing and so his life was forfeit as far as Xue Yang cared.

He pointed at her, then the direction of home.

“Go home.” He ordered and in a flash she was running off.

He blinked twice to get the image of her in the dirt out of his mind, trying to push away the reminder that not even ten years ago that had been him.

When the thought wouldn’t leave him, he buried Jiangzai into the body of the Jin disciple a few more times and dragged the corpse downstairs to see if he could bring it’s resentful soul back for some fun. He couldn’t hurt A-Qing, but he knew what he could hurt to feed the powerful urge to cause pain.

#mdzs #the untamed #Xue yang #a qing #xiao xingchen #song lan #xuexiao #songxiaoxue #songxiao #songxue #fanfic #canon divergence #cw: murder #cw: character death #cw: gore #cw: blood #I'm not kidding when I say Xue Yang isn't a good person #Xue Yang won't hurt A-Qing but he also won't be nice about getting her out of the way so he doesnt take his anger out on her #Or nice about who he kills and what he does with the corpses

[vampiremansionpoolboy-moved]

sk8 au week - day 2: royalty and soulmate

reki kyan was nearing his eighteenth birthday and he had yet to meet his soulmate. reki has heard the whispers of the people in the town about people who don’t find their soulmates. it’s not that he didn’t have one -he did, for your information, thank you very much- but because reki was from a royal family, and therefore a prince, he was to be married off and did not have the luxury of being with his soulmate. unless his soulmate was from another royal family, but reki had seen where his red string lead: straight into the center of the town below. so no such luck for another noble as his soulmate.

reki’s mother had tried to let him build friendships and hopefully relationships with the other royal children around his age, but reki had dreams about meeting his soulmate and never developed anything more than friendship with the other royals.

reki stared at his red string, eyes tracing its path down into the village, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. sometimes when he sleep he caught glimpses of a tall, pale, slender figure and bright blue eyes. reki wondered what those eyes would look like mere inches from his own.

suddenly a book smacked into the back of reki’s head, startling him from his daydream.

“what the fuck-“ reki’s head whipped around.

“hey there slime.” said a voice.

reki groaned at the sight of the boy sitting atop his desk.

“hello miya.” he grumbled.

“what’re you looking at?” the young prince asked, a catlike smirk breaking out on his face.

“nothing,” reki said pushing himself up and walking over to miya.

“so is your mom still making you meet that prince for dinner tonight?” miya hummed as he twirled a pen in his hands.

reki’s mother was much more kind with her son and his romantic predicament, compared to reki’s father who was ready to marry his son off without a meeting between the spouses. but after his father ran away with the sevrant girl he impregnated no one stuck to his old rules.

“yes, but i have a plan to escape and i need your help.” reki said placing his hands on miya’s shoulders.

“i’m all ears,” miya said leaning forward as if reki’s mother was outside the door and eavesdropping this very moment.

“ok so i need you to mix up joe and shadow’s schedules so they’re both in the great hall at the same time. we cant have a fancy dinner set up if the cook and florist are in there at the same time now can we?”

“i like what i’m hearing.”

“and then i need you and koyomi to either distract the stable hand while i sneak through the barn.”

“done. is that all you need?”

“yep. the rest is up to me. joe accidentally let it slip that his soulmate is the craftsman in town and that he sneaks out at the exit behind the greenhouses to meet him. so thanks to joe i’ve got my escape route all planned.”

“well look at this, prince reki ditching the feast planned just for him. who would have thought?” miya asked with a laugh.

“well after how the last dinner ended it’s not that surprising.” reki said with a shudder as he remembered the glazed goat falling onto the poor princess who was just looking for a potential marriage partner.

miya let out snicker at the memory. “well now that you say that...”

“anyways i have to hurry if i wanna make it before my mom sends a servant to make sure i’m ready.”

“oh right right let’s go. i’ll go get koyomi and head to the stables. see you soon.” and with a wink miya slipped out the door and was gone. grabbing a cloak from his bed, reki fastened the clasp and dashed out the room after miya.

he was sick of all this arranged marriage bullshit, he was sick of it all. reki just wanted to meet his soulmate and fall in love. he knew his thoughts were selfish though. he was the eldest of the four kyan children and his mom was doing her best to rule a kingdom by herself, so by default his marriage was bound to be political. it was very unlikely he would end up with his soulmate.

and so that’s why reki was going to meet his soulmate tonight. he would meet them and apologize for being a lousy soulmate before heading back to the castle to meet the prince who he was supposed to be dinning with.

for most of reki’s life he soulmate had lead to a place up in the snowy mountains. but within the past few years the string moved into the town below the castle reki lived in. just like fate his soulmate moved to his home town. but it was someone else’s fate, not his. so reki made up his mind weeks ago: meet his soulmate, apologize, then finally agree to a political marriage. his plan would take away his curiously about his soulmate, it would hopefully lessen his guilt about not being able to be with said soulmate, and it would make his mom happy. so why didn’t he like what he was about to do?

ignoring the heavy feeling in his stomach reki pushed on. running quietly through the halls reki hid behind stone pillars and over large plant pots when he needed too. finally reaching the barn reki slipped into there to see miya and koyomi talking away with the stable hand over a loaf of bread and some pieces of cheese.

slipping past the trio and out into the courtyard beyond reki doesn’t make a noise. he holds his breath all the way to the green house, and doesn’t let it out until he’s well into the tunnel behind it. some time ago a tunnel was dug in the large wall protecting the castle, the entrance was hidden by vines on both sides. the cave was known only to a select few.

as reki hurried through the cave he began to think back to some of his earlier suitors. he remembers his best friend who he could have seen himself marrying despite not being soulmates. but his friend got sick and went back to his kingdom and reki never heard from him again.

but tonight was about his soulmate. so reki trudged on, squinting for the cave opening.

before long the prince was stumbling out of the vines and onto the street. luckily it was mostly empty. empty except for a tall man with long pink hair and glasses.

at the sound of someone falling through the leaves he looked up but seemed shocked to see a teenager.

“your not kojiro.” the stranger blurted.

“and your not- actually i wasn’t waiting for anyone and i have no idea who you are...or who kojiro is.”

the man stared at reki for a minute before recognition flashed in his eyes.

“prince reki! what are you doing outside of the castle?”

“i um...well you see-“ but reki was cut off by a rustling behind the vines and a large figure falling out of said vines.

“kaoru you will never believe the day i had...” joe trailed off, eyes catching sight of a panicked reki and surprised kaoru.

“joe?” reki blurted at the same time joe said “reki?”

the two stared at each other before reki made a run for it.

but joe caught him by his hood so reki didn’t get far.

“kid what the hell are you doing here?” joe said apparently forgetting all formalities one should talk to their prince with.

“not of your business! and i could ask you the same!” reki yelled as he struggled to get free from joe’s grip.

“i’m meeting my soulmate. and i’m going to ask you again, what are you doing here?”

reki sagged, giving up the struggle. “same here,”

“you’re meeting your soulmate?” kaoru asked.

“yes, what about it?” reki said crossing his arms. it had all gone so good until now.

“aren’t you supposed to be in a arranged marriage?”

“yes so i’m going to meet my soulmate and apologize before agreeing to an arranged marriage.”

“what?” joe said, surprise causing him to loosen his grip. taking the chance reki dashed away. ignoring the yells behind him reki kept on running. nothing can stop me now, reki thought, i’ve come this far.

eyeing his string, reki ran through the streets watching it get tighter and tighter. reki was too focused on the string that he didn’t see the boy in front of himself until it was too late.

the boys slammed into each other hard, the medicinal products in the other boy’s hands clattering to the ground.

“oh shit sorry-“

“sorry-“

they both spoke at the same time causing the boys to look up at each other abruptly. the boy had bright blue hair that went down past his ears. he was tall and lanky, his skin almost as pale as snow. bright blue eyes that reki had sworn he had seen before. but when reki’s gaze meet the boy‘s hands, his heart stopped. a thin red string connecting reki’s own finger to this mystery boy’s, hung in the air. a red string of fate; a soulmate string. this boy was his soulmate.

eyes snapping back to the bright blue ones reki knew his soulmate saw it too.

“well shit.” reki blurted and the boy began to laugh. it was a sweet noise, like the chime of heavenly bells. and so reki began to laugh too.

“well i guess you’re my soulmate. that makes this search a lot easier then.” standing up and reaching out a hand to his soulmate, reki began to speak. “so you probably know who i am and therefore i can’t marry you -or be with you quite frankly- and i’m very sorry for that and it’s selfish of me but i have the responsibility of the kingdom on my shoulders and i can’t fail my people.”

“what? ‘kingdom’? what are you talking about?” the boy‘s blank stare bored into reki.

“...i’m the prince. and i’m going to be king someday. and as much i want to be with my soulmate -you-, i have to be responsible for my people -which includes you-.”

realization dawned on his face. “ooh, i see.”

“and honestly i don’t care about the difference of ‘rank’ between noble and townsfolk but other royalty do.”

“well my moms a doctor if that means anything.”

“a prominent roll indeed but unfortunately not enough for the in-law of a prince. well not in my eyes, but in the eyes of others.”

the boy hummed in though. “well she was the queen of the kingdom in the mountains before my father fell to illness and some corrupt politician overthrew her and had us banished. do that mean anything?”

“you- you mean you were a prince?”

the boy nods.

“oh my god. oh my god! this may just work then! i may be able to be with my soulmate and still have a marriage that pleases the royal court!” reki’s eyes light up in happiness. “that’s only if you do want to be with me i mean.” he added.

“well you’re my soulmate, are you not? so we’re meant to be together, no?”

“well yes of course. but i wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it and all...”

“of course reki.” the boy said sweetly while reaching out and clasping reki’s hands in his own.

reki almost melted at the use of his given name spoken by his soulmate.

“oh wait can i call you that? is that ok?”

all reki could do was dumbly nod.

“my names langa by the way.”

“langa,” reki said testing out the way the name felt on his tongue. “i like it!” he smiled and watched as langa’s face turned red.

“well should we head to the castle or something to relay the news?” langa asked, turning to reki.

“hmmm i think we can wait a minute. wanna show me around the town?”

“it would be my honor.”

and so the two boys disappeared into the lively bustle of the town as the laughed away and held each other’s hand like a lifeline.

~ ~ ~

@sk8-au-week

#we’re not gonna talk abt how i forgot to post the writing for the day i was most excited abt #toad talks #sk8 au week #soulmates #royalty au #toad writes

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Top 5 Most Hated Characters

As y’all can see, this week’s T5F is a request sent in by anon. I picked it because I guess at the time I thought it would be fun to explore some of TWDG’s least popular, and most hated, characters while also taking into account characters that I can’t stand. 

These are characters that the vast majority of us don’t like or downright despise for many different reasons. None of us are going out of our ways to defend most of these bastards, and anyone who is I get the impression they’re doing so for the sake of being Different™... though while looking around for info about these characters and what people were saying about them, I did find myself in some odd places.... come across, eh... odd fanart. 

But I guess this is the part where I say this is all in good fun and if you happen to be a legit stan of any of these people, that’s cool. Maybe you can answer some of my questions as to why??

5. Nate 

Okay, when I said that I found myself in odd places, it turns out that Nate actually has a bit of a fanbase. It’s not big or anything, from what I can tell, but big enough for me to question why because I was under the impression that we all agreed that this dude sucks.

Seriously, I would’ve put him higher on this list if I hadn’t discovered this handful of people making fanart for him and claiming him as a comfort character. While I find that an odd choice, you do whatever makes you feel comforted, y’know? Just would like to understand why. 

As for the rest of us, he’s terrible. Every time I go back to 400 days, he’s someone I never look forward to seeing. I’ve even tried not getting in the truck with him while playing Russell’s story, but in true Telltale fashion, you’re forced to drive along with this creep. 

Red flags start going off when Russell’s sharing his story about his previous group, something you can tell left some trauma with him, and Nate is just weirdly fixated on the girl Russell liked. Like yeah okay dude, I get it, it’s the apocalypse and you haven’t had any action for a while but oh my god. 

Then the whole walker thing that almost gets Russell chomped is annoying. Oh, and how could I forget about how it’s implied that he attacked the old couple before and was there to finish them off, which he does no matter what and it’s not great. 

Hell, he even uses the line Russell gave him but it’s worse because crazy eyes.��And if you don’t say anything, Nate murders them right there without a thought and then continues to be a real creep. Fuck this guy. 

As the wise Eddie once said, “I don’t what that guy in my life, man!” 

4. The Stranger

Hey, have I ever mentioned how much this dude sucks? 

I don’t even have to tell you why he’s on this list. We all know the obvious reasons-- manipulated and kidnapped Clementine, which caused Lee to get bit by a walker and fucking die. No one here is white-knighting for this dipshit. 

Sure, it sucks what the Stranger went through. He lost his family and that would be enough to drive anyone up the wall. I mean, just look at Kenny. But this dude, okay. Look. Listen. I can only feel so bad for you when you lost your son on a hunting trip that your wife told you not to go on, then when you went looking for him, you literally left the car unlocked and running for anyone to come across. Then you come back and gasp. So your wife leaves you for being a moron... then when you find her dead, you cut off her head and keep it like a damn bowling ball because...??

At least that’s what I get from it. The writers probably should’ve done a better job with explaining what the hell happened but y’know. 

That’s not the only reason no one likes this guy. Oh no, you also add to the pile that the Stranger himself is dull. As a character, the dude is just.... boring. And I get that’s probably what they were going for with the whole “I’m just a guy, but you ruined my life and made me this way.” 

However, when you set him up the way you did with the talks over the walkie and the stalking, I was expecting a bit more personality outta this loaf of soggy bread. But no... boring yet crazy. Interesting combo and I’m afraid it doesn’t work. 

3. Larry

Larry?? On a list of most hated characters?? Nooo...

Yeah, surprise. Larry also sucks. Stop the presses. 

Larry is a pain in the ass to deal with for two episodes, constantly belittling the people around him and treating his daughter like shit. Oh, and don’t forget how he behaves towards Lee even if you try to be as nice as possible. Nope, he doesn’t care, he still thinks Lee is garbage and will continue threatening to reveal Lee’s secret to the group. Who cares if that could fuck up the dynamic and endanger the group? Larry sure doesn’t. 

Until the very end, this dude is just a splinter in the foot. By the time you get to the meat locker and he has a heart attack, you’re not gonna save him because you think he’ll be better if he survives. No, you’re attempting to save him for Lilly and Clementine’s sake, and if you don’t even care about that, you siding with Mr. Family Man to smash his head in. 

Not only is he a soiled diaper, he also don’t have much personality outside of asshole. He has maybe two moments where he’s shown to be just a bit chill? I mean, Lilly tells us that he has a lot of pain and that’s why he’s like this.... but that doesn’t excuse his behavior. 

Oh, and can’t forget that apparently he was obsessed with Lilly leaving the lights on so he let the power get cut, so Lilly couldn’t eat ice cream and had to let her hair air dry like a heathen. Unforgivable. 

So yeah, fuck Larry. 

2. Troy

Ugh, Troy. Fuck this guy. 

No really, out of all TWDG characters, this dude and my #1 pick are my most hated. Can’t stand Troy and the only reason I didn’t do a tie for #1 is because for a split second, Troy does show a tiny bit of humanity when Carver is beating down Carver, but blink and you’ll miss it.

Which had me a little concerned to find a handful of posts about having crushes on Troy and drawing fanart but.... again, I guess you do you? And if you can, please explain why because I honestly don’t understand. 

Just looking at the screenshot of him annoys him. He’s got one of those punchable faces, y’know? 

Anyway, when playing as Clementine, I’m always worried that he’s gonna pop up outta no where and grab her by the neck like he does later in ep3, even though I’ve played s2 a bunch to know that he’s not going to. 

But hell, he doesn’t need any excuse to smack anyone around, and there are a handful of times he can really hurt Clem depending on her choices. 

Not great, dude. 

Can’t say I’m too sorry that Jane shot your dick off. 

1. Badger

Yeah, you guys remember Badger. Y’know.... the man who murdered Mariana then laughed about it, claiming that he enjoyed watching her head explode and would do it again and again if he could? 

That’s what puts him at #1. He may not have the most screen time like Larry or Troy, but when he is around, he’s fucking awful.

He gets joy from killing Mariana, like it’s some sort of sick thrill for him to go around murdering children and other innocent people. 

Remember Francine? Caught her and used her as bait to try and get Javi to come down, and even went as far as to have some fingers cut off. Like, he gets off on destroying people, entire communities.

Shit, he seems to even get off to his own beat down. 

He’s fucking gross and outta everyone on this list, I haven’t found a single person being like “Yeah, he’s garbage but I like him kinda?” like no, you’re such garbage that even the Different™ crowd don’t want you. 

Fuck Badger. 

By the way, if you’ve never had Conrad kill him in your game, I suggest looking it up. It’s pretty good. Gives Conrad a little bit of closure after what happened to Francine, as well as give Javi some closure for Mari’s murder. 

Not a single soul wept for you, Badger. 

---

Dishonorable Mentions

-Joan. She’s boring, forgettable, and no one is out here gushing over her because most of the time, we can’t even remember her name. -Danny from Vince’s story in 400 Days. Y’know, the dude going to prison because he was convicted of SA. I’ll never understand why people go with him over Justin. Justin sucks, too, but not the same level Danny does.  -Lilly in S4. Ugh. That’s a whole other topic for another day. -Arvo, though I guess he has a bit of a following, too

---

Well there ya go. Do you agree or disagree with any of my choices for this list? Or have anything to add? I’m always down to chat.

Have any suggestions for future T5F’s? Feel free to send ‘em in! :D

---

Next week’s T5F Top 5 BROTPs

#twdg t5f #twdg clementine #twdg lee #twdg kenny #twdg lilly #twdg larry #twdg jane #twdg troy #twdg russell #twdg nate #twdg aj #twdg #twdg joan #twdg danny #twdg arvo #twdg conrad #twdg javi #twdg mariana #twdg badger

[heyitssmiller]

Chop It Like It’s Hot

Chapter 5: You Take a Pizza My Heart With You

I honestly can’t believe the response this story has had! I love you all so much; thanks for sticking with this! And a special thank you to @im-oknutzy-trash for all the ideas!

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

@lumosinlove

About thirty minutes after he ended the call with his mom, there was a knock on Leo’s apartment door.

“So,” Dorcas greeted him as soon as the door opened. “your mom called me. Said you were upset and asked me to check up on you.”

Leo reluctantly opened the door wider. “At least come in first.”

“Thanks.” She strolled in, dropping a bag on the counter and sitting down on the couch like she owned the place. “You want to start talking, or am I going to have to pry information out of you?”

“How about neither?” He said as he sat down next to her.

“Is this about The Batter Incident?”

Leo clenched his jaw. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“You need to talk about it.”

“Do I?”

“Leo, for once in your life, let someone take care of you for a change.”

He sighed, staring down at his hands and collecting his thoughts. Finally he said, “It’s stupid, you know? I don’t know why I’m feeling like this. Don’t worry about it; I’ll get over it eventually.”

“I swear, it’s like pulling teeth with you.” Dorcas grumbled. “Start talking. Now. You like them, right?”

“They’ve been in a relationship for three years now.” Leo blurted out, more frustrated in himself and his feelings than Dorcas’s pestering. “And they’re happy that way. I’d just throw a wrench in those gears and mess everything up, so what’s the point in trying?”

“You can’t be serious.” When he didn’t respond, Dorcas groaned. “Leo.”

“It’s true! I mean, even the logistics of it are doomed from the start. I’m based in New York, they’re in Gryffindor. We all travel constantly. Our schedules would never line up and we’d never see each other.”

“So you’ve thought about this.”

Leo laughed a little at that. “Dorcas, it’s all I’ve thought about for the last week and a half.”

“But that’s so dumb! You’re giving up before you’ve even given it a chance!” She argued. “And you know they like you back - you can’t possibly be that blind.”

He thought back to The Batter Incident. His cheeks had been hot enough that the batter probably could’ve baked there. And the looks on Logan’s and Finn’s faces...

“They might. But how long will that last once they really think about it? A week after this is all over they’ll realize it was just a silly crush and move on.”

“Leo-“

“Please don’t.” He cut her off in a small voice. “Don’t give me false hope. It’ll only hurt more in the end.”

She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder. Even though she wasn’t a fan of physical affection, she was still willing to try and comfort Leo, and that meant a lot. “I still think you’re being ridiculous, but I guess I can see where you’re coming from.”

“Thank you.”

After a few seconds of sitting there in silence, Dorcas moved away. “Okay, that’s enough of that. I’ve got some cocktail recipes I’ve been meaning to try out if you want one.”

Leo laughed a little. “I think I’m going to take you up on that.”

***

“Recruits, the challenge for today is tasty tailgates!” Dorcas said with a wicked grin. “Your job is to create traditional game day dishes that people will want to cheer about, not throw a penalty flag. You can use outside resources to find recipes, and you can also use us for help. You have ninety minutes for this challenge and your time starts... now!”

Leo and Dorcas made their way from station to station, giving advice where they could. There were only six contestants left, so they could afford to take more time with each of them. Leo had helped with burgers and chili cheese fries by the time he’d reached Finn.

“What are we making today?” He asked, trying his hardest to not stare at those doe eyes for too long.

“Buffalo wings!” Finn said as he tossed the chicken wings in breading. “I’ve never used a frier before, so that’s worrying me a bit.”

“Well, you really want to make sure the oil is nice and hot before putting your wings in there. After that, just keep an eye on them until they’re nice and brown. It’s chicken though, so be sure to check the internal temperature.”

Finn gave Leo a cheeky salute before going back to his wings. Leo turned to move on to the next station to find Logan already looking at him.

“I’m making a pizza. It’s already in the oven.”

“Look at you, ahead of schedule!” Leo moved around the counter to turn the oven light on. “Did you use a dough recipe without yeast?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want a dough proofing for too long.”

“Smart. Let’s take a look at it.” Leo bent down to look into the oven to see not a pizza, but a rapidly-rising loaf of bread. The toppings had all slid off and were burning at the bottom of the oven.

Leo sat down on the floor next to the oven, squeezed his eyes shut, and laughed, ignorant of the longing looks he received from the two boys.

“Okay,” he said when he finally caught his breath, “I think I know what the problem is.” Leo laughed one last time and got to his feet. “Why don’t you start over on that dough?”

Logan glanced at the clock nervously. “That’s cutting it close, I’m not sure I’ll have enough time.”

“So bump up the oven temp and get that dough mixed as fast as you can.” Leo said as he went to check on his other recruit again. By the time he was done, Logan had dough made and was working on stretching it out on the counter.

“Okay. So the problem was that you didn’t do anything to prevent the dough from rising. An easy trick to fix that is to grab a fork,” Leo fished around in a drawer until he pulled one out.  “And make indents all over the surface of your dough. This gets rid of any air bubbles trapped in there and limits the rising a little.”

Logan rushed to put his sauce and toppings on the pizza before shoving it into the oven. “Hopefully it’ll be done in time.”

“I think this will be better than the loaf of bread, even if the dough isn’t cooked all the way through.”

“Yeah, but time constraints are stressful.”

“How is it any different than a hockey game?”

“I’m good at hockey.” Logan said with a grin, then motioned to his first pizza attempt. “This? Not so much.”

Leo laughed again. “It took practice to get good at hockey; the same goes for cooking. Look at how far you’ve come since the beginning of this show! You’ve–”

“Fuck!”

Leo turned around to see Finn cradling his hand to his chest and glaring at the frier. “You piece of shit.”

“Oil burn?” Leo asked. When Finn nodded, he turned on the tap and set it as cold as it would go. “Those are the worst. Come here. Run it under cold water for a few minutes.” As soon as Finn was close enough, Leo grabbed his wrist to inspect the burn. It was red and inflamed, but didn’t look too bad.

“I don’t think you need a medic.” Leo said with mock gravitas, looking up at Finn and meeting his soft gaze. He realized he was still holding Finn’s hand and let go quickly. “Don’t stay here too long – you don’t want your wings to burn.”

“Right.” Finn murmured as Leo walked away.

He made sure to give the other recruit about the same amount of assist time as the two boys and tried not to feel guilty about it.

***

Finn’s wings were a relative success. The breading was a little weird, but overall they tasted good. Logan’s pizza, though…

It was raw in the middle, just like he was worried about.

So now Leo had to pick between Logan’s raw pizza and another contestant’s just barely overcooked chicken.

It wasn’t really up for debate.

Logan was going home.

And Leo was going to have to tell him.

Fuck.

He sighed, rubbing at his temple and looking over at Dorcas. “Have you made up your mind?”

She nodded. “You?”

“Yeah.” He got up and headed for the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

***

The director called cut, and Leo’s heart ached as he watched Logan’s shoulders slump. He shouldn’t feel guilty. This was his job. But Logan and Finn both looked so sad.

“Sorry, Logan.” He said, not sure what else to say.

He shrugged. “I knew it was coming sooner rather than later. And I’m staying in the city until Finn gets done, so now I’ll have time to sightsee.”

Leo held out his hand to shake Logan’s. “I really enjoyed teaching you.”

That got a smile, much to Leo’s relief. “Thanks, chef.”

***

Post-Episode Interview

Finn: I mean, yeah, I’m bummed out. This has been so much fun to do with him and I hate to see him leave. But you know what that means? *yells* I’m the better chef! I knew it!

Interviewer: How does it feel to be in the semifinals?

Finn: *laughs* Surreal. I honestly never thought I’d make it this far. Here’s hoping I make it to the final! *knocks on the wood table*

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #o'knutzy #chop it like it's hot

[goulets]

Heartland

Chapter: 2/8 Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson Additional Characters: Bruce Wayne, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon, Alfred Pennyworth Rating: T (for now) Case Fic/Kid Fic a03 link

The first suggestion is that Jason move back into his old room, just down the hall from Bruce's which is met with an unequivocal not on your fucking life, Bruce.

“Let's get one thing clear: I am not 'moving back in',” Jason hisses, glaring around at all of them. He's whispering so as not to wake the baby, and it doesn't come off quite as intimidating as he'd like. “I just need a bed to sleep in, that's it. Don't do me any fucking favors.”

Dick says, “There's an empty bedroom next to mine, it's not that big, and the bathroom is shared, but – ”

“Sold,” Jason says, and again, the infant sleeping in his arms makes a good old-fashioned broody storm-off kind of impractical.

(jason)

The first suggestion is that Jason move back into his old room, just down the hall from Bruce's which is met with an unequivocal not on your fucking life, Bruce.

“Let's get one thing clear: I am not 'moving back in',” Jason hisses, glaring around at all of them. He's whispering so as not to wake Danielle, and it doesn't come off quite as intimidating as he'd like. “I just need a bed to sleep in, that's it. Don't do me any fucking favors.”

Dick says, “There's an empty bedroom next to mine, it's not that big, and the bathroom is shared, but – ”

“Sold,” Jason says, and again, the infant sleeping in his arms makes a good old-fashioned broody storm-off kind of impractical.

“Okay,” Dick nods. “I'll, um, just show you then.” Bruce looks impassive, and Tim looks like he doesn't quite know what to do with himself, as Dick walks past Jason and Jason follows him up the steps to the main part of the mansion.

Jason doesn't like following behind Dick. It's partly the principle of the thing, because he literally had to die and rise from the grave to get out of Dick's shadow, and even then, it's a matter of distance, and little more. He's far enough off the path of righteousness that the light that shines like a beacon onto Dick doesn't even touch him. So it feels like old news, a habit he grew out of long ago, walking behind Dick, tracing his footfalls, but it's so familiar he half expects to see those stupid fucking pixie boots on his feet when he looks down.

Then there's the other familiar part, the part he’s been struggling not to acknowledge, the awareness that’s been growing in the back of his mind since he set up camp in Gotham. Simply put, Dick is hot. His ass in spandex was the source of way too many semis popped Jason's stupid, flimsy little Robin shorts, and his ass in faded pajama pants is nothing short of miraculous either. But it's not just his body, although Jason wishes it was, not just the shape of his ass and the curve of his spine and the span of his shoulders – Dick is beautiful. He's elegant when he moves, when he laughs, when he's angry, when he's worried, when he's a fucking mess. It's impossible not to look at him, the attention he commands is probably partly due to the fact that he was raised a performer, and partly because that's just Dick.

Jason knows he's one in a long, heavily annotated list of people to fantasize about Dick Grayson. It used to keep him up at night when he was a kid, and not just in that way. There hadn't been a lot of tolerance in the streets for homosexuality – sure, it existed, Jason'd even been on the receiving end once or twice in the unlucky parts of his youth – but you didn't talk about it. So he'd suppressed it, save for those late night visits from his hand in the dark, and then he'd died. Been sprung from the grave, grew up a little, and came back to find that, surprise surprise, the world had grown up a little bit too, and not entirely for the worse. And since then, he's had encounters with men, women, couple aliens, and all that is whatever. This thing with Dick doesn't bother him on account of Dick, well, having a dick. Not anymore.

No, it bothers him because it's Dick fucking Grayson. Golden Boy, Boy Wonder, or as Jason likes to refer to him, Stupid Fucking Bastard With Stupid Fucking Sticks Who Just Won't Fucking Quit. Out of all of them, Dick's the most unchanged. Bruce is hardened, less trusting; Tim is broken; Jason is – whatever the fuck he is, beyond all hope, maybe; but Dick's never lost the spring in his step. Jason thinks he'll probably backflip right into death with a smile on his face, and he won't come back, because Dick is too damn good to be reanimated like some freakish perversion of nature. Jason calls Tim “Replacement” because it's true, Jason was replaceable, but Dick never was. Not that Jason had ever wanted to be his replacement – he hardly knows what he wanted to be to Dick then, even less what he wants to be to Dick now, but it sure as hell isn't some bullshit co-parenting gig with the whole family breathing down his neck.

Of all the fucking days he had to drag his ass down here to gossip.

Dick says, “So, this is it,” and Jason realizes they're outside his new room. The room he's staying in. The room the baby is staying in. That's all it is.

It's not small at all, of course, and the bathroom he's sharing with Dick is also not small, with a stand-up shower and a jacuzzi sized tub, because that's necessary, two sinks, and a ridiculous amount of storage space. He doesn't look at Dick's room, just takes in the furnishings of his own, a queen bed with slate-grey sheets, closet, dresser, desk, bookshelves with a good number of books already on them, and a little windowseat that for some reason makes the back of his throat feel itchy to look at.

Danielle makes a small noise in his arms, and something occurs to him. “Um, where's she supposed to sleep?” He's not an expert, but he's pretty sure babies need cradles – actually, and a lot of other shit, like diaper cream, special baby soap, pacifiers, those sling contraptions he sees people walking around with, and probably a billion other things he has no freaking clue about.

Dick says, “Huh. Good question.”

Helpful, Jason thinks. She can't sleep with him, can she? What if he rolls on top of her? What if she rolls off the bed? What if he has a nightmare and pummels her to death in his sleep? The thought makes him want to be sick, what is he thinking, trying to be some kind of fucking caregiver –

“Jason? You okay?”

Jason blinks. It dawns on him that he's been frozen in place for several seconds now, mind overloaded with the sheer volume of information he doesn't know, endless blank pages supplemented by a thoroughly sourced index of his fears. It's not like he planned for this – ever – he's pretty sure parental ineptitude runs in the family, because his mom sure as fuck never read What to Expect When You're Expecting.

He says, “Doesn't she need some kind of special baby doctor?”

Dick nods. “Bruce'll have Leslie come by and look at her soon. According to the hospital records, she missed her three-month check-in, so.”

“Dick.” Jason tries, and fails, probably, to keep the overwhelming helplessness he's feeling out of his voice. “What the fuck, man – this is crazy. I can't – I don't – where is she supposed to sleep?”

“I can answer that,” comes Alfred's clipped tone from the doorway. Jason turns to see the older man hauling an enormous, tall box into the room.

Jason says, “The hell?” at the same time that Dick rushes forward and says, “Here, let me help you,” and that about sums it up, he thinks.

“Her sleeping quarters,” Alfred says. He and Dick lay the box down, and Jason feels his stomach churn unpleasantly at the picture on the front of a smiling, drooling blonde-haired baby standing in a white wooden crib, fat little fists wrapped around the railing.

“You work fast, Alfie,” Dick comments, hauling another box into the room. This one says Changing Table on the side, and then Alfred pushes a rocking chair in, and Jason will be damned if it isn’t a whole fucking matching baby bedroom set.

“Where the hell did you even get this?” he asks, incredulous. He’s been at the manor two hours tops, hardly enough time for even Alfred to go out shopping for an entire room’s worth of furniture.

“Same-day delivery,” Alfred says smoothly. “I find that being a frequent, loyal customer expedites the process somewhat.”

“You don’t fucking say,” Jason mutters under his breath. Dick is now bringing in box after box of diapers, six huge shopping bags full of baby crap Jason would rather do just about anything than sort through, and some disassembled swing-looking contraption that promises “15 soothing melodies and nature sounds”. The room, suddenly, doesn’t seem so big anymore.

“Hmm,” Dick frowns, looking around. He must be noticing the same thing as Jason. “Honestly, I don’t see all this fitting in here. Alfie, what do you think?”

“You have the adjoining room, do you not, Master Richard?” Alfred replies. He surveys their haul, looking satisfied. Jason feels a tiny bit like he’s going to have a nervous breakdown, which is more or less where he’s been since Danielle was placed in his arms to begin with.

He’d been deadly serious when he’d told Bruce that he’d take her and protect her, but true to half-cocked form, he hadn’t even begun to parse out what that meant. Now that he’s standing in a room that looks like a Babies R’ Us blew up in it, with a human being the size of a loaf of bread snoozing and twitching in his arms, he doesn’t know what he could have possibly been thinking. What Bruce could possibly have been thinking, letting him walk away with her.

Well. Actually, Jason thinks, that about tracks for Bruce’s idea of fatherhood. In Jason’s experience, anyways.

“We’ll put the crib here, I think,” Dick says, leaning the box against the wall opposite the bed. “Changing table can go next to it, and I guess put the rocking chair in the other corner? Bottle stuff should go in the bathroom, and, hmm…” he trails off. “Yeah, we’ll just put the swing in my room. Don’t worry about it, Alfie, I’ll take care of it. You’ve done more than enough, seriously.”

“I’ll leave it to you boys, then,” Alfred says, picking up some of the discarded shopping bags and tucking them under his arm. He gives Jason a long look, like there’s something he wants to say, but seems to think better of it. Jason doesn’t know whether or not to be disappointed.

The silence that falls once Alfred leaves is awkward, bordering on oppressive. Dick doesn’t seem to notice, just keeps opening boxes and stuffing things in drawers and putting on a show of looking like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Jason knows better - can see how haphazardly he’s putting things away, how he’s moving around just to avoid being still. It’s a relief, in a way, to know that he’s not the only one completely out of his depth.

Still, he can’t deny Dick is being about a billion times more useful than him. What else is new.

“I’m just gonna stick this in the closet,” Dick says about a box containing a carseat. “We’ll figure it out later.”

Jason frowns. His car right now is a piece of crap Volvo that certainly shouldn't be hauling around anything as fragile as a baby. Not like he can take her on the bike, either. If they have to make a quick getaway, he’s looking at one-handed free running, or getting some new wheels posthaste.

Danielle grunts and yawns, stretching her tiny hands up and clawing at the material of his jacket. He pats her back, and she settles back into the crook of his arm. It tears at him, a little, watching her burrow into the leather, mouth occasionally opening and sucking, leaving little damp spots in her wake. She’s warm as hell now, practically a furnace, and he frankly wishes he had taken the damn jacket off before she got all comfortable, but he’d rather eat his own gun than put her down. It’s shocking to realize, but he wants her to be closer, wants to hold her right against his skin, against his heartbeat. He’s never felt this way about anything before, about anyone.

He clears his throat. “You seem bizarrely familiar with all this crap,” he says to Dick. “How do you - I mean, I don’t even have a clue what that thing is,” he gestures to the piece of fabric Dick is holding. It looks like the world’s longest scarf.

“It’s a wrap,” Dick says. “It’s for holding the baby. Or ‘wearing’, I think they call it. It’s nice for keeping your hands free. Roy had one for Lian, but it had a lot more buckles than this.”

Jason blinks. Roy, of course. Roy’s told him how much Dick has helped him out when he got full custody of Lian, back when she was still a baby. No wonder Dick is able to snap into action so easily. Jason’s spent a little time around Roy’s daughter, but she’s usually with her grandparents when they get together. For the best, since most of his team-ups with Roy have ended in shootouts and/or catastrophic explosions.

Just another reason he has absolutely no fucking business being anywhere near an infant.

“Hey,” Tim says from the doorway. “Um, here’s this pillow thing.” He holds out a box labeled Infant Lounger, and Jason is officially calling bullshit, there’s absolutely no way babies need this many goddamn surfaces to simply exist upon when, as far as he can tell from his one hour of baby experience, there’s no chance you’d ever want to put one down anyways. It’s all just one big racket - except for the diapers, probably.

“Thanks, Tim,” Dick sighs, opening the box and pulling out the lounger. It’s covered in a cutesy little whale pattern. “Well, that’s adorable, isn’t it?”

Tim looks skeptical. “If you say so.”

Jason narrows his eyes. “You didn’t come up here just to deliver a whale pillow, Replacement.” Dick shoots him a reproachful look, but screw him. “What’d you find out?”

Tim, to his credit, looks relieved to have an excuse to get to the real reason he’s there. “Well, we can officially rule out anyone from Intergang as a suspect. Their whole operation is a bust now. Word is Mannheim is pulling all the survivors out and regrouping, probably off-world.” He nods to Jason. “We’ve ruled the League of Assassins out, too.”

“So, who does that leave?” Dick asks. “Locals? Who are the major players in the East End?”

“There aren’t any,” Tim says. “The whole neighborhood’s been a power vacuum since...well.”

“Since me,” Jason snorts.

“It’s all small-time gangs, nobody with the firepower or the logistic capability to pull something like this off,” Tim goes on. “Which means we’re either looking at somebody new, or there’s a major territory grab that we somehow haven’t caught wind of.”

“Who patrols the East End now, anyways?” Jason asks.

“Nobody, unless Barbara sends the Birds out there. Used to be you,” Tim says mildly.

Jason works his jaw. “Last I checked, your boss is the one who wanted me out of there.”

“Last I checked, you didn’t take orders from him,” Tim replies, voice cool and even. Jason suddenly understands what an infant lounger is for - it’s a safe resting spot to hold your baby when you need both hands to throttle your aggravating family members.

“Oh, knock it off, both of you,” Dick says irritably. “Tim, are you running down leads for this?”

“I guess so,” Tim shrugs. “I was here on the Intergang expansion in the first place. Bruce and I are going to check out the bodies later this evening, get ballistics reports and see what else we can find. The paperwork is coming in pretty slow on the law enforcement side of things.”

Jason twists his mouth in disgust. “GCPD, dragging their heels? Shocking.”

“Pretty much,” Tim affirms. “They’re just happy the Intergang faction’s dealt with. I don’t think they want to look into it too closely.”

Even with a baby on the hit list, Jason thinks bitterly. It’s enough to make a person want to pick up and move altogether.

Danielle moves suddenly in his arms, stretching her tiny body and kicking one leg out against his ribs. She whines, twisting her head away, and when she turns back to look at him, her brown eyes are wide and watery.

“Shit,” he murmurs. “Dick, help. She doesn’t look happy to see me.”

Dick appears at his shoulder. Danielle whines again, flailing her limbs against Jason’s chest.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Dick coos, right in Jason’s ear. Oh, sweet Jesus, Jason did not think this one through at all. He feels his face flush, and has to bite his tongue to keep from snapping at Dick to back the fuck up.

“Look at you,” Dick goes on, oblivious. “You’re awake now, huh? You need some attention, sweetie?” His breath is warm against Jason’s neck. Jason is going to crawl out of his skin.

Danielle’s eyes flicker towards the sound of Dick’s voice. She grunts, then turns abruptly and mouths at Jason’s armpit. Jason feels like his heart is gonna jump out of his goddamn throat. It’s been - God, he doesn’t even know, months? The better part of a year? - since he was this close to another person without his helmet on. His brain is screaming at him, escape, fight, neutralize, but even louder, there’s a piece of him overriding everything, a fist deep in his chest clenched around something he thought he’d left back in the Pit.

Danielle whines louder, kicking, and the fist clenches tighter.

“I don’t - ” he starts to say. His voice comes out breathy and ragged, he stops. Swallows. Get a grip, for fuck’s sake. “Maybe you should take her, I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing.”

“Just rock her,” Dick suggests. His arm comes around to Jason’s elbow, and now Jason can’t help it, he jerks away violently. The little body in his arms goes stock still for a moment, hiccups, and then the sound of wailing fills the room.

Jason swears. “I’m sorry,” he tells her, like that means a damn thing to a baby. “Shit, I’m really sorry, Danielle.” He holds her upright against his shoulder, rubbing her back like he’s seen Roy do with Lian when she’s upset. “I’m an asshole, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She hiccups again, and makes a displeased noise that sounds vaguely chastising. Fair enough, he deserves it. Anything is better than crying.

Dick is looking at him, overbright, and Jason averts his eyes. Briefly, he makes eye contact with Tim, who looks incredibly uncomfortable. Good.

“I think we’ll leave the morgue investigation to you guys,” Dick says to Tim. He seems to have realized he overstepped. “There’s a lot to do here, and I still have my regular patrol. I’m guessing you’re going to the docks this evening,” he addresses Jason.

“I want to, but.” Jason rocks Danielle pointedly. “Kinda got my hands full here.”

“You don’t think we can leave her for a few hours?”

“What the fuck, no,” Jason says, incredulous. “Even if she wasn’t being targeted by some psycho, you can’t just leave a baby, what’s wrong with you.”

“Even I knew that,” Tim says, obnoxiously.

“She wouldn’t be alone, jeez,” Dick protests. “Alfred is here.”

“I’m protecting her,” Jason reminds him darkly. “Alfred has enough shit on his plate.”

“Okay,” Dick says, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “She’s pretty attached to you anyways, so you’re right, it’s probably best if we do that.”

Jason isn’t sure whether or not he’s being patronized, but flips Dick the bird just to be safe. Dick pretends not to notice.

“Drake, your input is being requested in the Cave,” Damian announces from the doorway. Christ, it’s a whole fucking family reunion, and he can’t escape. “Personally, I hadn’t even noticed your absence.”

Tim’s expression goes from vaguely aggrieved to fully constipated, which soothes some of Jason’s irritation. Bruce’s demon spawn is a complete and utter terror, but he’s so like his mother that Jason can’t help liking him. He’s not stupid enough to look down on him in a fight - he heard secondhand what Robin did to Victor Zsasz - but his heart’s just not in it when he spars with Damian. So sue him, he’s got a soft spot for kids, no matter how lethal they are.

“Keep me updated,” Jason says to Tim.

Tim nods, one hand on the doorframe as he exits. “Will do. Sure you don’t want to come along? Autopsy is daytime work.”

Jason grimaces. “Been there, done that. You guys can poke at dead people, I prefer to get my answers from ones that are breathing.”

Damian scoffs audibly. “Breathing until you finish with them, you mean?”

Jason ignores him. He turns his attention back to Danielle, who is starting to mouth at the collar of his jacket more aggressively. Shit, he probably shouldn’t let her do that. This jacket isn’t too old, at least, but he’s smoked his way through a dozen packs of cigarettes in it already, not to mention all the bad guy spatter it’s probably absorbed. Surface cleaners can only do so much.

“Perhaps you’d like to offer her this,” Damian says imperiously, holding out a bottle. “You know, children her age require feeding every three to four hours.”

“...Thanks,” Jason says, suspicious. He doesn’t think Damian would attack him when he’s holding a baby, but he looks like he’s considering it. Warily, he takes the bottle. It’s warm. “Did you make it?”

“It’s infant formula,” Damian replies bitingly. “It requires no scientific mastery.”

Alfred made it, then. Jason exchanges a look with Dick, who quirks an eyebrow almost imperceptibly.

“You don’t need to stay, Damian,” Dick says. “I’m just gonna be putting together furniture. You probably have homework to do, right?”

Damian looks affronted. “My studies aren’t so taxing, Grayson. What furniture?”

“Baby furniture, for Danielle. Nothing you need to worry about.”

Damian narrows his eyes. “You’re dismissing me because you want me to argue, so that I’ll stay and help you.”

Dick is the picture of innocence. “I really don’t need help. I assembled all the furniture in my apartment, I know what I’m doing.”

“I also know what you’re doing.” Damian walks to the box holding the crib pieces, hands on his hips. “A simpleton could do this.”

“They make it pretty user friendly.”

“I’ll get my tools.”

Dick looks quite pleased with himself as Damian rushes off. Jason can’t help but laugh.

“Nice,” he says, shaking his head at Dick’s impish grin. “Hold her for a second, I’m gonna take my jacket off.”

Danielle whines more insistently when he passes her to Dick, and doesn’t stop when he takes her back. He cradles her upright in one arm, bouncing her a little to keep her distracted, and touches the nipple of the bottle to her mouth. She latches on eagerly, and he tries and fails not to smile at her enthusiasm, the delighted kicking of her legs as she eats, her eyes trained on his face like laser beams. He feels - full, almost, like a balloon in his chest is slowly filling up, a window he’d nailed and soldered shut is being pried open again.

There are holes in Jason’s memory, things the Pit couldn’t restore, fragments of his life that were beaten out of him, or left in the ground, or atrophied and rotted away during his lost year after waking up. When he first came back to Gotham, he’d filled all those empty spaces with rage and spite, but he’d burned through it all in a few months and found there wasn’t enough left over to keep filling them, to stop him from noticing the edges of remembering in his mind, the sensation of familiarity that would abruptly fade into nothing. He’s learned to navigate around them, but there’s never been a moment that he hasn’t known they are there. They’re a constant reminder that he died Jason Todd and came back Almost Jason Todd, the same person but without all the pieces.

The feeling he has, feeding Danielle - the warm smell of her, the force of her gaze, so human and yet so alien, the clutch-and-pull of her small hands against the fabric of his shirt and the scarred skin of his hand - it’s like she’s reached right into the center of him and dragged forth the memory of being whole. He isn’t, he won’t ever be, but he can remember it, and it absolutely takes his breath away.

“You good?” Dick asks, softly.

Jason swallows. “Uh-huh,” he manages. It’s a damn good question. Jason isn’t frequently good, he’s often satisfied, often pissed off, often (less often, now) steeped so deep in madness he’s out of his mind. This is something else, he thinks. Something close to shattered, but it’s also close to good, because even though he’s in a thousand goddam pieces, the pieces, for once, are all there.

“Wow, Jay,” Dick murmurs. “You’ve really got a way with her, you know.”

Jason waits to answer until he’s sure his voice won’t betray how shaken apart he is. “She just doesn’t know any better yet,” he says. “Probably at this stage, it’s all the same to them.”

“She didn’t eat this well for me,” Dick says, and Jason can’t tear his eyes away from Danielle to look, but he can hear Dick smiling. “Face it, Jaybird, she chose you.”

“Shut up,” Jason replies, but it’s so subdued it’s practically a whisper. He can’t even deny it - she did choose him, and even if he can’t fathom why, even if it terrifies him, he can feel it all the way down to his bones. He’ll do anything for this little girl. Shit, she’s already got him shacking up in the last place he’d ever want to be. She’s got him thinking about sensible family cars, for Christ’s sake. He hasn’t even known her a full day, but she chose him, and he knows he’d die for her as instinctively as breathing.

“This had better not take long,” Damian says, reentering the room with his toolbox in hand. “I have training to finish.”

Dick laughs, but it’s a little off, somehow. Jason still doesn’t look - if he had to guess, he would say that Damian managed to surprise Dick, but that doesn’t seem very likely.

“Sure thing, Dami. The changing table is probably the easiest, if you have things to do.” Whatever Jason thought he heard, it’s not there anymore. Dick’s voice is back to being smooth and casual, pointedly so, which probably means Damian’s about to -

“In other words, you want me to assemble the crib,” Damian says flatly.

“Pretty sure I said changing table,” Dick repeats, exasperated.

“Enough with your mind games Grayson. They aren’t subtle, you’re embarrassing yourself. I’ll assemble the crib, since you seem to think it’s too challenging for you.”

“If that’s what you want,” Dick says evenly. Jason finally catches his eye, and he winks. “I’ll start working on the changing table - the way she’s eating, we’re gonna need it soon.”

Anxiety flits across Damian’s face, and he scowls hard at Jason a split second later. Jason shrugs one shoulder at him peaceably. He’d be lying if he said he had no reservations about changing diapers either, but hell, he signed up for this, didn’t he? People even more dysfunctional than him must have figured it out over the years. And considering his extracurricular activities, he can hardly be getting squeamish over a little baby poop.

Danielle, having paused her eating to look around, makes a short fussing sound and then latches onto the bottle again. Jason adjusts his hold and brings her up a little higher. She curls into him automatically, the fingers of her little hand splaying against his shirt, right over the intersection of scar tissue fanning across his chest. He’s never let anyone touch him there before. It doesn’t feel….bad. At all.

It feels like waking up after a long, disorienting dream. Like climbing down a mountain and taking the first breath of oxygen-rich air.

It feels like being home.

***

(tim)

“Here’s what we know,” Bruce says, pulling up the footage from Oracle. “One month ago, Cy Reynolds and a couple dozen henchmen took over the Eastern port for Intergang. They demo’d the warehouses the Dragons were operating out of, and the old Falcone hotel. They brought in tech, weapons, and what appears to be equipment from Apokolips to construct a boom tube.”

“Just what we need,” Tim mutters.

“Two days ago, Cy Reynolds, his wife, and their adult son all turned up dead. Each was shot twice in the head, execution style. Oracle, any update on ballistics?”

“Negative,” Barbara’s voice comes through the computer speakers. “Forensics are taking their sweet time.”

“We have sixteen other bodies, identified as Reynolds’ second tier of command within Intergang and their respective families.” Bruce pauses. “This includes three children. A fourth was targeted, identified as the child of Mitchell Howard and Linda Torres, but she somehow survived.”

“And made it all the way to St. Aden’s in Coventry,” Tim finishes. “Records say Torres lived on the edge of Little Italy.”

“Has your group seen any signs of new groups operating on the East End?” Bruce asks. “There’s a short list of suspects who could have pulled this off in two days.”

“If there are, they’re way underground,” Barbara says. “You can rule out the Golden Dragons, most of the ones left in that area joined up with Intergang. They’re focused on turf wars in Chinatown, they wouldn’t bother defending the Eastern port.”

“That fits with our intel,” Tim says, trying not to sound annoyed. This started as his op, and he’d ruled out the Dragons from the very beginning. Bruce’d had barely a passing interest until Jason got involved, and now Tim has been demoted to pinch-hitter on his own case. He’ll deal, but after the year he’s had, it’s a little hard not to take it personally.

“The killers’ modus operandi ranges from shooting to stabbing, which suggests human suspects,” Bruce says. “Targeting families suggests the mob.”

“The Falcones used to control the whole east side,” Tim says thoughtfully. He’s surprised it never occurred to him. He’d been so focused on new territory feuds, he hadn’t stopped to think that it might be an old territory feud. Maybe he deserves to be a pinch-hitter. “Any chance they’re making a comeback?”

There’s a flurry of typing on Barbara’s end. “Funny you should mention them. We had five bodies from the Falcone family turn up over the past six months. Some of these could be accidental, but I tagged it as suspicious after the third one.”

“So, a rival family,” Tim says, slowly. He racks his brain for a list of crime families in Gotham’s history. Who’d even bother going after the Falcones these days? They haven’t been truly active in Gotham for over two decades, but, Tim supposes, some rivalries never die. “The Maronis are locked up….maybe the Odessa Mob? Could they be making moves?”

“Nightwing would know if they were expanding past Bludhaven,” Bruce says. Fair enough. Wouldn’t make sense for the Russians to stage a hostile takeover when they’re barely holding ground across the harbor, anyways. “Who are the victims from the Falcones?”

“That’s the weird part. They were all straight, as far as I can tell. One shoe store manager, two housewives, a scuba instructor, a graduate student, and an entrepreneur. Barely a drug charge between them.”

“Could they be unrelated?” Tim asks, glancing through the reports..

“No,” Bruce says decisively. “It’s too much of a coincidence. These murders are all connected.”

“I agree,” Barbara says. “Based on proximity alone, but combined with the destruction of the old hotel, it’s all adding up to something.”

Tim doesn’t argue. They’re right - if there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that coincidences are never just that in Gotham. The connection is there, they just need to find it.

“That hotel was Carmine Falcone’s crown jewel, back when he was in power,” Bruce says. “If the Falcone family is behind this, they could have been retaliating.”

“That’s a hell of a lot of bodies to drop just in retaliation,” Tim says doubtfully. “And to what end? If it is them, it has to be more than that.”

Barbara puts new footage on their screen. “Here’s what I pulled from last night’s traffic cams. Looks like the person who killed the baby’s parents is the same one who dropped her at the orphanage.”

Tim studies the grainy figure on the screen. They’re wearing a hood and limping slightly, but from the approximate size and shape, they appear to be -

“A female assailant,” Bruce says. “Not a pro. This person couldn’t have taken down a man like Reynolds.”

Tim stretches his arms over his head. “So, multiple killers.”

“Fits the mob angle. Give me an hour or two, and I’ll have an ID,” Barbara says. “Oracle out.”

Tim watches Bruce pull stills from the footage and run them against his video backlogs. On a separate screen, he watches Colin draw baby Danielle out of the Safe Surrender box, look around at the camera, and then hurry out of view.

“Red Robin, what exactly is going on over there?” Barbara asks quietly over the comm in his ear. She must have opened a private channel, because Bruce doesn’t show any indication he’s hearing her too.

“I’m gonna hit the training mat,” he says to Bruce. He gets no acknowledgement, which is more or less what he’s learned to expect.

“It’s been kind of a shitshow here,” he replies, once he’s out of earshot of Bruce. “What have you heard?”

“That Robin brought home a baby, and Red Hood adopted it, and now he’s moving back in to take care of it.”

“You’re pretty much caught up, then,” he says, stifling a laugh. “And Nightwing is helping, which is even weirder.”

“No shit,” she muses. “He’s helping Red Hood?”

“I guess? I was just with them, they’re kind of getting along, actually.”

“They had a decent rapport going when Nightwing took over as Big B,” Barbara says. “Robin wasn’t crazy about it. I think he wanted N all to himself.”

Tim considers this. “I always thought Robin didn’t like Hood because of his methods.”

“I’m not about to psychoanalyze Robin on a line I know he could hack if he wanted to,” Barbara says dryly. “But I’m sure that’s part of it. Hang on, B is lighting up the family line.”

Tim switches over. Bruce says, “We’re going to have to make some adjustments to patrols, while Danielle is in our care.”

“Black Bat and Batgirl are still in Florida,” Barbara says. “They should be wrapping up their case in the next day or two. I’ll put them on the South End when they get back.”

“Good,” Bruce says. “Signal should also be back in Gotham by then. Red Robin, you’ll need to put activities with the Titans on hold. I’ll have you covering the Northeast corner, including Crime Alley and the Bowery.”

“That’s my turf,” Jason snarls over the comm. “You can’t just go giving away my patrol. I gave you the East End, and look how that fucking turned out.”

“I wasn’t finished. Red Robin will cover those areas when Red Hood is otherwise occupied.”

Tim closes his eyes for a long second. Great. Now Jason will be gunning for him, again.

“Nightwing, your coverage of Bludhaven is non-negotiable. Robin will join you, temporarily, and fill in for you on the nights you need to be absent.”

“Really?” Dick sounds pleased. “Hey, Robin, did you hear that?”

“Of course I did,” Damian says. “Father, I accept this assignment.”

Unfair, Tim thinks, petulantly. He thinks Barbara’s probably right about Damian wanting Dick all to himself, but they all want Dick all to themselves. It’s complete bullshit that Jason and Damian, by far the least deserving, are the ones getting him.

“Oracle, we’ll need the Birds to fill in the gaps.”

Tim can almost hear Barbara rolling her eyes. “That’s what we’ve been doing, Batman. I’ll ask Huntress to keep her eyes on the Narrows. I’ve already got half my monitors dialed in to the East End. If anything happens there, I’ll be first to know.”

“Good,” Bruce says. “We’ll debrief again after tonight.”

There’s a long pause, and then Jason says, “Replace - Red Robin, we better talk if you’re taking my patrol tonight.”

Tim swallows. “Just so you know, I didn’t ask B to assign me.”

“No shit you didn’t. No one in their right mind would. No idea why he’s gone off the fucking deep end about this, like we haven’t dealt with way worse.” Jason sounds aggrieved. Tim can hear baby squealing noises in the background.

“Twenty bodies in one weekend isn’t nothing,” Barbara says. “This only happened because we were lax on patrol. No one was covering that area while Red Robin was gone.”

“I had informants on the ground,” Tim protests. “We were in touch.”

“It’s not your fault, Red,” Dick says immediately. “Oracle didn’t mean that. We should have been covering. It’s our bad, not yours.”

“I could have been covering,” Jason grumbles.

“Last time there were this many dead gangsters on the docks, you were covering.”

“Oh, fuck you, Boy Wonder.”

“Boys,” Oracle says, none too pleasantly. “I’m muting the family line now, so you’ll have to bicker like schoolgirls in person. Oracle out.”

Well, if he’s on the training mat anyways, he might as well get a workout in. Tim grabs his bo staff and scrolls through the training menus on his phone until he finds one that’ll thoroughly kick his ass. It’s stressful, having this many people in the manor. Tim doesn’t have a single clue how to act around a baby, much less how to act around Jason Todd with a baby.

Conner will find this hilarious, he thinks, whenever he gets back to Earth. Not the murders, obviously, but he’s always taken particular delight in Tim’s family drama. He’ll have to tell him about it next time they see each other - if they ever see each other - if Conner is even talking to him -

Tim shakes his head roughly. He’s been doing so well at not thinking about Conner, and truth be told, a hiatus from the Titans will probably do him a world of good on that front. He can’t take any more of Bart’s overcompensating, or Gar and Cassie’s whispering when they think he isn’t paying attention. At least when Bruce and Damian second-guess him, it’s not because they think he’s heartbroken, or whatever.

Because he’s not.

Probably.

The program starts, and then immediately ends when Tim takes a holographic missile to the chest. Crap. He hits the restart button, pushes everything else out of his mind. Dealing with his encyclopedia of dysfunctional relationships can wait. This, at least, he knows how to do.

***

#jaydick #haven’t posted fic on this website in many years and the text editor has really tanked i gotta say #what do you have against center alignment tumblr #where did the nice word processor go #Ugh #anyways here’s this #fell face first back into bats so i’m finishing this wip from 2013 #my fics #heartlandverse

[13lov]

too hot to sleep. (m)

# pairing. fiancé!yoongi x reader

# genre. established relationship au, humor, fluff, smut.

# word count. 2.4k

# warning(s). fluff, reader doesn’t like cats yoongi’s cat, smut [marriage kink(?), unprotected kitchen sex, small hint of yoongi having a possession kink]. \\ will be edited at a later time so my apologizes for any mistakes

# a/n. this was originally supposed to be a drabble but i liked the prompt a lot...so this is the cute fluffy version but i’m also MAYBE gonna write a uh...rougher version. i tried to write an impreg kink since that shit is mad hot but it wasn’t working out for me :(

↳ summary. “ Umm can’t wait to get rawed in our kitchen when I’m living with the love of my life ” *soft ver.*

“You never listen to me,” you whisper to your fiancé’s sleeping figure, “I ask you to pick up the air conditioner on your way home from work,” you shove his shoulder in an attempt to wake him up, “but instead, you buy a new bed for your demon cat.”

Yoongi stirs in his sleep, turning himself to face the bedroom window. You can’t help but get annoyed at the fact even when he’s sleeping, your fiancé barely istens to you. Every ounce of annoyance fades away the moment you hear the soft sound of Yoongi smacking his lips together, a habit he developed whenever he was in the midst of a deep sleep. Even unconscious, he was still the cutest thing you had ever seen.

But, nevertheless, it was too hot for you to sleep. Your growling stomach also proves you’re otherwise too hungry to sleep as well.

Slowly and quietly, you retreat to the apartment’s tiny kitchen, striding past the various wedding decor that consumed your home in hopes Yoongi bought enough food for you to prepare a late-night snack. 

He didn’t, of course, so you’re left to scrape up anything you’re able to find within the fridge and kitchen cabinets. Your struggle meal consists of bread, butter, and what you can only hope isn’t a few expired slice of American cheese. The only reasonable meal you’re able to make with these few ingredients is a grilled cheese sandwich, not that you’re complaining.

The only thing you do complain about is Yoongi’s cat, Pearl, hopping on the counter and knocking the loaf of bread to the marble floor. Watching the bread fall to the floor startles you, speaking that you hadn’t even known Pearl had woken up and followed you out of the bedroom.

You wave your hand at Pearl, as if you were swatting away a nuisance fly, “Get off of my counter, lazy.”

Pearl ignores you, getting more comfortable on the counter before closing her eyes. As silly as it may sound, you sometimes you feel as though you’re at a constant war with the feline; like she was competing for the role of being the number one woman in Yoongi’s life. You really can’t blame her much. Though, her attendance at your wedding (per Yoongi’s request) shall tell her who the true winner is.

“Fine. If you’re not gonna move then I’m gonna...” you’re careful to grab Pearl’s torso, not wanting to startle her enough to accidentally break something. You aren’t surprised when she makes no effort in making herself lighter to carry and instead drifts off to sleep. “...then I’m gonna let you just stay here.”

Everyone in this apartment loved to ignore you.

Still, there are other things more important than arguing with a sleeping cat at two in the morning.

Drawing your attention back to the task at hand, you put the stove on low heat before grabbing a pan from the cupboard and setting it on one of the burners. Grabbing a knife from the wooden block, you slice off a piece of butter and stir it in the pan, watching it dissolve and make the pan slippery.

Pearl meows as a way to tell you you’re being too loud and she’s trying to sleep, you blow a raspberry and tell her to get a job.

The literal cat-fighting has your bedroom door opening, Yoongi had finally woken up. 

You’re facing the stove with your back facing him, so he takes the opportunity to rest his chin on your shoulder, raking his hands up your shirt and giving your breasts a small squeeze. “Guess who.”

You take the slices of white bread and carefully lay them side by side on the sizzling frying pan, “The ghost that haunts this apartment.”

With closed eyes, Yoongi chuckles, his laugh causing your shoulders to vibrate. “I sure hope he or she doesn’t like you that much. By the way, were you just telling Pearl to get a job?”

You aren’t even the slightest bit embarrassed that he heard your dispute with the animal, he was used to it by now. “If Pearl thinks she can live here rent-free and tell me to shut up while being job-less, she has another thing coming.”

“Ah, go easy on her,” Yoongi brings one had down to your waist, the other reaches over to scratch Pearl’s chin, “she’s my good girl — you both are.” He sighs through his nose, moving hair out of the way to plant a kiss on your neck.

“You both are,” you mock in a voice that sounds nothing like his own, “the worst days of her life were when you met me and when you proposed; please get her off of the counter.”

“You heard her,” Yoongi gently pats Pearl’s bottom, coaxing her to hop off, “up, up, up.” She does as told, of course; you roll your eyes.

“Why’re you up?”

“I can’t sleep, it feels like hell in this apartment,” you answer, using a metal spatula to flip both slices of bread on the pan.

“Oh, I’ll pick up the a.c. tomorrow, I promise.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

It falls silent, but not awkward. You assume Yoongi is still somewhat tired; the boner pressing into your ass tells you otherwise. It’s early, both of you are still weak after having such a long day. You don’t want any teasing to lead to something that can’t be finished. “Yoongi, don’t—”

“I’m not doing anything,” he interrupts in a mumble, “just wanna talk. What’re you making?”

“Grilled cheese,” you try your best to focus on the food in front of you. Yoongi presses against your backside harder than before. You convince yourself it’s unintentional, but Yoongi knows exactly what he was doing.

“Why do you cook the bread longer?”

“Because I like the edges burnt.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Good thing this isn’t for you then, yeah?” You turn your head slightly, enough to press a kiss on his forehead.

Yoongi grunts like an ungrateful child who doesn’t get their way, burying his face in the crook of your neck and using his teeth to nip at a sensitive area. You unwillingly toss your head to the side, giving him more access to your bare skin before coming to your senses and re-focusing on your food. “Make me one?” he questions.

“Maybe if you picked up the air conditioner like I asked you to...” 

Yoongi hums, a hint of laughter laced with his tone. “Maybe there’s something else I can offer you in return.” The sudden husk in his voice as you raising a brow, intrigued at what he was planning on offering. 

“Is that so?”

“Mm-hm,” he hums, moving his hands to your front, lifting your shirt up slightly as his index finger settles between the waistband of your panties and the area right below your belly button. “Yoongi, I’m trying to cook.”

“Okay...and...?” his finger continues its path downwards, you find yourself turning the stove down to an even lower heat than before. “What, I’m not allowed to touch you while you cook?”

He slips is finger in between your folds, moving around in teasingly slow circles. His boner is still pressed right up against your ass, seemingly get harder as seconds pass. “Not down there, Yoongi.”

“Why shouldn’t I? This,” he suddenly slides his index finger into your entrance, giving you no warning or seconds to prepare. The action had caused the metal spatula you once held drop to the floor, your fingers now gripping onto the marble counter, Yoongi chuckles at how quickly he managed to get a reaction out of you. 

“...is mine anyway, you said so yourself” he continues. Yoongi’s breath was hot against your neck, his deep and lustful voice and the things they were saying only making you crave him more than you already did.

Yoongi’s words slip into the back of your mind once you’re starting to feel the pleasure caused by his finger alone. He notices how silent you are, barely letting out a moan as he slips in a second finger, making no effort to slow down the increasing pace he was thrusting them at. “Why’re you quiet now? Cat got your tongue?”

“Don’t mention that fucking cat.”

“Sorry,” he really isn’t, though. He loved to work you up like this, especially considering how easy it was. It was selfish in his case, seeing you even the slightest but frustrated was such a big turn on for him. In all honestly, he could name all the times he started pointless arguments just to end it with angry, passionate sex.

Yoongi rubs the pad of his thumb against your clit, all while his two fingers are still pumping. You’re so slick and wet around him, making it easier for him to quicken his pace; your eyes shut, mouth falling slightly open and a lustful gasp leaving you when he does. He curls his fingers, in that way where they hit your g-spot perfectly. You gasp at the feeling, and whine when Yoongi ruts his cock against your ass.

“Oh, fuck,” you mewl.

“God, I can’t get enough of you. I swear, we’re gonna fuck everyday once we get married.”

The moan you let out causes Yoongi to grin, moving his left hand up and under your shirt to grab one of your breast; squeezing a lot harder than before, this time rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger. “Mm-hm,” he hums, “gonna put a ring on that finger, then put my fingers inside of you.”

You really could come right now, then Yoongi would put his cock in you and you’d come again; but, you don’t want to come twice in a row. It’d only make you tried and weak, and, truth be told, you’re still hungry.

“Yoongi.”

“Hm?”

“Fuck me.”

“You have such a bad mouth,” he teases, “just talk nice and I’ll give you whatever you want, _____.”

You sigh, “Please, fuck me. Want you to fill me up,” you sound so desperate, neither you or Yoongi seem to mind. He responds to your words, pulling his fingers out of you immediately, you nearly groan at the feeling of sudden emptiness.

Yoongi raises his hand to your sight of view, separating his fingers to make a V shape, completely in awe of how soaked you’ve made his fingers. “Open,” he says, and you do as told. He inserts them quickly, thumb underneath your jaw as if he was holding your head in place. Your tongue laps around his middle and index until you’ve successfully rid them of your juices. 

Yoongi releases his fingers from your mouth, using his own to tug down his pajama pants and boxers enough to free his cock. The two of already know he won’t last long, but he’s way too hard to not even give it a chance.

He pushes your cotton underwear down a bit, grinning when you bend over slightly to give him a better view of your ass. He takes his cock in his hand, pumping himself a few times, watching pre-cum ooze from his practicality swollen tip. “Ready?” he asks, teasingly rubbing his head against your folds. It takes everything in you power to not back yourself onto him.

“Y—oh, fuck,” you moan. Barely giving you time to answer, Yoongi can’t help his impatient tendencies and was already easing his tip into your pussy. He swears at the feeling of you already starting to clench around him. It takes a few moments until he’s fully inside of you, not daring to move because of how wrapped around him. Truly, he could stay in the position forever.

But, he wasn’t in the mood to do cock warming. And he lets you know that with a sudden thrust that has you bent over the counter. You can’t say it doesn’t feel good, but it was surely unexpected considering how tired you assumed Yoongi would be.

A few more slow thrusts later and Yoongi’s finally moving at his desired pace, his large hands firmly gripping your waist. He presses his forehead against your shoulder, already feeling his orgasm approaching — he just knows he won’t be able to hold on longer.

“Baby, I’m—”

“Shit, Yoongi, I’m gonna come,” you interrupt. He’s glad you’re on the same page.

“Hold on just a little bit longer,” he says. Though it’s a demand, it comes out as a question you don’t mind saying yes to.

He’s groaning into your neck now, pressing harsh kisses against it and definitely leaving marks. When he closes his eyes shut, he feels completely wrapped up with pleasure and feels bad for neglecting your clit. He decides he’ll make it up to you later by going down on you. Right now, he feels way to good and won’t be able to focus on anything else.

His high is approaching and he knows yours is too just by the way your moans have increased in volume. “Oh fuckfuckfuck...fuck,” seems to be the warning that he’s going to come, and he does, filling you up completely. Your own orgasm happens seconds later and has you seeing stars.

The two of you are stood panting in silence for a minute, Yoongi still buried deep inside of you. He places a sloppy, open-mouth kiss alongside your neck, giving you various praises of how good you are to him.

“I love you,” he says, readjusting your panties before fixing himself properly. 

“And I love you,” you turn around to kiss him, to which he groans into and pulls you in closer. “Now go pee,” he pulls away, giving your ass a small tap, “I’ll watch the food.”

Yoongi does as promised as you walk towards your bathroom. “You got a text!” you yell on the way there.

Confused as to who would be texting him at such an hour, Yoongi strides into the bedroom and snatches his phone from the nightstand.

hobi [ 2:44 am ]: u know the walls in this building are thin, why would u subject me to your porn re-enactments 

“It’s just Hobi,” Yoongi informs you, smiling away at the text as he replies.

yoongi [ 2:44 am ]: oops

yoongi [ 2:44 am ]: lol

yoongi [ 2:45 am ]: we’ll try to be more quiet next time

“Is he RSVP-ing for the wedding?”

“I’ll ask.”

yoongi [ 2:46 am ]: are u coming to the wedding btw?

hobi [ 2:50 am ]: pull another stunt like this and i won’t even show up to ur funeral

hobi [ 2:51 am ]: on a completely unrelated note, put me down for the chicken

hobi [ 2:51 am ]: also, what kind of toasters do u guys like?

#bts #btssmutclub #bts smut #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts fluff #bts x reader #min yoongi #yoongi imagine #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fluff #kpop #kpop smut #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpop fluff #smut #fluff #hoseok #hobi

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [0.2]

Masterlist

Eva clung especially tightly to Pluto as she followed Remington back to the front gate, her cheeks burning red hot with humiliation. It didn't help either that this kid happened to be wickedly handsome and sans shirt all the while.

Remington wasn't so bothered by the incident, worse case scenario he could convince the guys to order a pizza like he was craving. Nonetheless, he didn't blame Eva; he tried to put that across by keeping the friendly smile on his face and putting her at ease.

"You know, it's not a big deal -- with the food and everything," he assured her, "We'll just order a pizza or something,"

Eva shrugged, "I know. It's just -- you know, I guess this isn't how I expected everything was going to go," she said, "Moving is tough enough with everything going on, and now it seems I got to get a play cage for this little monster,"

Remington patted the top of Pluto's head, "He's not so bad, just a little hungry. Cute little guy, aren't ya?" The pale tabby closed his eyes and rubbed his scruffy head against his palm.

Eva smiled a little, "He likes you. You should be honored, he doesn't warm up to strangers so easily,"

"Well of course he likes me. We have the same hair colour," Remington grinned, subconsciously running a hand through his black and blonde hair.

"You could be twins," Eva chuckled sardonically.

Remington opened the gate for her, "So... do you like the neighbourhood?" he asked.

"It's nice so far," Eva nodded, "I'm still unpacking all my boxes and shit so I haven't really had the opportunity to explore. And given the circumstances and... I -- I forgot my face mask too, fuck,"

Remington shrugged, swallowing the ball of nerves creeping up his throat, "You look pretty healthy to me," he said.

Eva smiled politely, hoping she could attribute the flush in her cheeks to the heat. There was something about him, he was familiar to her. She didn't come right out and say it, perhaps he just had one of those faces one sees and recognizes from somewhere else.

"Well, I should get going. And tell those guys I'm sorry again," she said, walking backwards to the sidewalk.

Remington simply shook his head, "Honestly, don't even give a second thought. Welcome to the neighbourhood, Eva"

"Thank you, Remington,"

There was something about the way his name rolled off of her tongue that sounded so sweet to him. He continued to stand at the gate and watched the pretty young girl cross the street and back into the apartment courtyard. Eva turned and took one last fleeting glance, a zing of electricity zipping down her spine when she saw Remington was still standing there.

Slamming the door to her apartment, she placed Pluto back on the floor, washed her hands thoroughly, and went back to her kitchen to continue with her baking exploits. She tied an apron around her waist, pulled out her ingredients and tried to find a good recipe on her phone. She also made sure to close the window.

She was unbothered when Pluto jumped onto the counter and took a seat, staring at his owner curiously. Eva stared at him just as intently, having half the mind to shoo him off the countertop. He seemed to almost be smiling at her.

"And what are you looking at, sausage thief?"

Some days passed; days filled with doing absolutely nothing. If everything was normal, Palaye Royale would have been smack in the middle of their European tour. Instead, Remington was sitting in his room, bored out of his mind as he continued to press the buttons on his xbox controller. He had played this game so many times, it was too easy. The challenge was gone.

Today was Friday, another Friday that was filled with perpetual boredom and misery. Riding around on his scooter wasn't fun, video games weren't fun, even trying to annoy Emerson wasn't as fun. There was little drive for him to do the bare minimum; it was just an achievement alone that he forced himself to shower this morning.

Lying back on his bed, he stared up at the empty ceiling, closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. Maybe the time would go faster if he slept more, like a hibernating bear? However, the notion of sleep was swiftly yanked away when he heard the doorbell ring.

He groaned audibly and turned over, his dark brown eyes still shut tight, "Emerson! Someone's at the door!" he called. There was no response, not even the shuffling echo of feet. Was Emerson even home? Maybe he'd ordered something off Amazon again and conveniently forgot to tell Remington while he was out.

If it was a package and he'd missed it, he didn't want to hear Emerson going off about having to drag himself down to the post office to sign for it -- in a pandemic no less. A month in and this pandemic was already getting to be old news.

Nevertheless, Remington pulled himself out of bed and jogged downstairs, hoping the Amazon guy hadn't left yet. He didn't take into account that he was only in his indigo dotted shorts and nothing else, throwing open the door without a care. However, he was surprised to see a plastic bag at his feet, at the gate was Eva.

Eva had just pulled back the latch to the gate when she heard the door open, and she was no doubt taken aback to see Remington standing there... again without a shirt. He looked weary and tired, the complete opposite to Eva's glowing face and yellow summer dress.

"You're not the Amazon guy," Remington spoke candidly.

Eva cocked her head, "Uh, no. Afraid not," she shrugged, "You expecting a package?"

"No," Reming shook his head, "I mean, my brother might be, but he's not home and I have no... um, nevermind. What brings you over here?" he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, trying to collect himself a bit more.

Eva pointed to the bag at his feet, "I made some bread. The recipe made three loaves and I don't need that many carbs," she chuckled awkwardly, "I thought maybe you guys might like one?"

"Oh," Remington picked up the bag and pulled back the plastic, finding a round, crisp loaf of bread inside, probably a bit bigger than Mishka, "That's very nice of you,"

"I just felt bad about the other day --"

"I told you, it's no big deal,"

"I know," Eva nodded, scratching at the skin behind her ear, "I ... jeez. Just being neighbourly, I guess?"

"I'm the one who should be fucking neighbourly," Remington grinned, "You want to come in for a drink or something? ... Or maybe we should sit on the lawn instead? That's social distancing, right?"

Eva smiled sheepishly but shook her head, "I actually have to stop by my storage unit and pick up the rest of my things. I'm just looking for a Waive,"

"You don't have a car?" he asked.

"Well, it was either the apartment or the car, and I figure I can survive off public transit for the next little while," she replied.

It was then a truly incredible idea entered Remington's head, "... I can drive you over, if you want," he said.

Eva smiled graciously, "Oh no, that's okay. There's one up four blocks from here, and I don't want to be a bother," she replied.

"It's no bother at all," Remington grinned, "As long as I'm back in time for my set schedule of nothing, followed by nothing, and then more nothing," hey, it was at least a reason for him to get out of the house.

Eva crossed her left leg behind her right, clearly a little unsure. It wasn't advisable to get into a car with a stranger when circumstances were normal, and now couldn't have been an exception.

"I don't know, Remington,"

He could see the apprehension spread over her delicate face, and he didn't blame her for being on the edge. He wasn't even sure if she should've even been in his backyard the other day. Then again, he knew he was being safe, and as far as he saw Eva never went anywhere, or had anybody over.

"I get it if you're uncomfortable," he told her, "But I don't go anywhere. And the only people I ever really see are the people you met the other day. That's it. I just... I wanna' do everything right so we can go back to normal as soon as we can. And you seem like a nice girl and I would hate to know you're having to suck up quarantine by yourself,"

Eva took a minute to think it over. She glanced down the street, maybe thinking she could catch sight of the shared car her map was telling her was within a four-block radius. Then again, she wasn't all that comfortable having to use a car-sharing service since the pandemic started, but she couldn't take her stuff on the bus and she couldn't afford Uber rates. Besides, Remington was only one guy...

"... If you don't mind," she said finally, "Maybe we can just leave the windows down and have our masks on?

Remington tried to hold back the big grin that wanted to explode over his lips, "It's seventy-five degrees out, you bet your ass I'm gonna' have the windows down," he said, "I'll just go throw on a shirt,"

"Do you have a habit of going without a shirt?" she asked.

Remington smirked, "Only on Wednesdays... and when beautiful women happen to be around,"

Eva rolled her eyes, but she was smiling nonetheless. She actually found him to be quite charming, "Well, it's not Wednesday," she took a brief look around, "And there are no pretty girls here,"

"Oh, come on, don't sell yourself short, Eva," he winked coyly as he rewrapped the bread in the plastic, "Just outta' curiosity, is this --?"

"Sourdough," Eva nodded shyly.

"What is up with this sourdough fad?" he asked.

"I don't know," she threw her arms out, "I just wanted to fit in and be cool, I guess,"

"You named your cat after an Edgar Allan Poe book, you're already cool,"

Eva waited patiently outside as Remington dashed into his room. However, he stopped short when he found a post-it note was stuck to his door. He must've blown past it when he went to answer downstairs. It was notably written in Emerson's chicken scratch and he read it to himself.

"Remington, I'm off with Shy to the beach. Text me if you want to cook or do take out, unless of course I come home before you open your door... and you won't find this note," he glowered at the dark blue ink, "Seriously?"

About an hour later, having collected the rest of her boxes from storage, Remington followed Eva up three flights of stairs to her little corner apartment. Eva had a bit of a rough time trying to put the key in the lock without dropping her box, but she was finally able to get the door open and push her way inside. Pluto was in his bed, none too bothered by his owner's presence. It was only when he smelled the unfamiliar scent of men's soap and hair product that he turned his head to Remington.

He was quick to leap up and come trotting over, nearly scaring Remington out of his skin when he started rubbing up against his leg, "What the --? Oh, hi Pluto," he grinned at the pale and black-striped tabby.

Eva huffed at her cat, setting down her box and going to scoop him up, "Pluto! Let him in before you start whoring," He gave a yrowl of protest before he was dropped back into his bed.

"Sorry about that," she said.

"It's no problem," Remington wasn't shy about having a few glances around her small studio space. It was cozy, yet not fully furnished as the walls were still bare and her shelves were empty. On the right hand side, two perpendicular walls separated the kitchen space from the bedroom (it was more like a bed cubby), and on the other side she had a small couch with a glass coffee table, and beside that a desk that prescribed the definition of 'messy'. Looking out through a sliding door, Eva had a small balcony with two chairs and small dining table -- where she had a perfect view of his house.

"Please forgive the mess, too. I'm shit at organizing," Eva said, having now pulled down her blue medical mask so it rested under her chin. Remington did the same.

"It's definitely a lot cleaner than my place," he said, still gripping tightly the cardboard box, "Where would you like this?"

Eva set down her box on the kitchen counter, took a glance at the writing at the side before directing him, "Just down by the bookcase, is fine," and she started pulling apart her own box.

Remington set down his box and opened it as well, astonished and impressed to see rows of vinyls lined up and packed tightly. She had music that ranged from Billie Holiday to Harry Styles; some sleeves more worn down than others. Unable to help himself, Remington had a flip through her music, you could always best judge somebody by what they threw on the turntable. Remington's smile grew when he found his own record, Boom Boom Room Side A.

"You have good taste," he said, turning and holding up the vinyl.

Eva turned from her box full of novels, a tinge of red spreading over her cheeks when she saw him crouched over her music and holding a record. But when she realized the worn down sleeve was for Palaye Royale, it suddenly clicked in her mind where she'd seen Remington from. A small warmth flooded through her gut.

"I knew you looked familiar," she blushed, "Your hair's different, that's why I didn't recognize you,"

"I take it this is your only record of ours?" he smirked.

Eva shrugged, "It was a birthday present. I liked a lot of what I heard, though," she ruffled a hand through her short hair, "There was one song I heard and I just fucking loved it. It went something like... oh my gosh, like um..." she started humming the chorus to something that sounded like Mr. Doctor Man.

The melody was instantly recognizable to Remington, but he let her carry on longer than necessary to watch her, the giggle she let out while she hummed simply delicious. He could never sing that song the same way again after hearing that.

"I think that's supposed to be Mr. Doctor Man," he chuckled once she had stopped giggling.

Eva pointed a finger at him, "That's it! I loved it because it sounded like The Killers!" Eva couldn't believe she just hummed that song to Remington fucking Leith. She wasn't sure why she had let Palaye Royale fall off her radar, having remembered how much fun she had jamming to that vinyl in her old place. And the voice on Remington was so sexy, she couldn't help but be so enthralled by those raspy high and low notes he would hit.

"That's probably one of the best comparisons I've had, yet," he told her, "They also happen to originate from Vegas,"

Her cheeks were still burning but she lifted her eyes slowly back to his and gave a tentative smile, "What is it with all you cool rock bands coming out of Las Vegas?"

"Like they say; Vegas is built on hopes, dreams, and crazy people," he gave her a wide, toothy grin just to make his point.

"Who said that?" Eva asked.

"I don't know, but it makes a fuck ton of a sense," Remington replied, "Would you like me to put these in the shelf?" he pointed to the bookcase.

Eva shook her head, "No, you don't have to do that. You didn't even have to help me haul all this shit upstairs," she said.

"And leave a lovely lady to break her back on her own? My own mother would be so ashamed of me," he scoffed back, waving his hand at her, "And besides, as your new friend I insist on helping you out,"

Eva cocked her head, "So, you and I went from acquaintances to friends all within an hour and some?"

"Well, if you had hummed my song earlier, we would've been friends before Pluto even stole the sausage," Remington grinned, then glancing at the tabby, "No hard feelings, Pluto," The cat simply stared back at him.

He glanced back at Eva, "... Why does he keep staring at me?" he whispered.

Eva smirked, "He's a very personable cat. Either that, or he wants your shoes,"

"So, if I leave my sneakers on the stairs of my house, he'll come over and actually make a meal out of them?" he asked.

"I've lost so many shoes to this cat, I swear I have to keep them locked up in my closet," she replied.

Remington glanced at the cat again, narrowing his eyes as though to mockingly challenge the feline, whispering menacingly "I got my eye on you, bitch,"

#remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #boy bands #band imagines #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

[hazelcmist]

A Cure for Christmas

Summary: Two Brits grounded and stranded in the middle of Nowhere, North Carolina during a ‘blizzard’ and there’s only one loaf of bread, one carton of milk and one hotel room left to share. Whatever will they do?

Pairing: Ten x Rose

31 days of Ficmas: Snowed In

@doctorroseprompts

The disastrous day began in the Heathrow airport. Normally, John Smith – the Doctor to his friends and colleagues – enjoyed traveling and took all the delays in stride, but Gallifrey Inc. was threatening to pull the plug on his latest vaccine that could improve and save the lives of millions world-wide. The vaccine had spent the last six months in the development stages, but the new CEO of Saxon Inc. had abruptly cut 75% of their funding. The stocks of Gallifrey Inc. had plummeted and the Doctor and Gallifrey Inc. were floundering. The start-up company had invested everything into the Doctor’s latest vaccine, but if they couldn’t find an immediate investor, Gallifrey Inc. would be bankrupt by the end of the year and the much-needed vaccine would never be completed.

Any hopes of salvaging his career, completing the vaccine, and rescuing the company that had taken him in like a family from financial ruin was now pinned on one company that had shown some recent interest in the vaccine.

Vitex.

Vitex’s CEO was currently at their American headquarters in Los Angeles. Donna Noble generally handled this sort of thing, but Pete Tyler had requested to meet the Doctor himself, and Donna had Bronchitis. The Doctor loved traveling, but he was anxious about the meeting and he was already running behind schedule.

Thanks to Donna’s brilliance, the Doctor had managed to get on one of the few direct flights to LAX, but the departure kept getting pushed back. By the time the pretty blonde fetched up against the bar and rammed her valise into his kneecap, the Doctor had been waiting for three hours and was two banana daiquiris deep at the airport bar.

“Oi! Mind the knees!” 

She whipped around and the Doctor’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Sorry,” she said with a dazzling apologetic smile. “Lost my balance. Think I broke one of my heels running through the airport,” she confessed with a wince.

“Let me take a look,” he offered before he could stop himself.

The Doctor was usually quite good with fixing things, but unfortunately this innate ability did not extend to women’s footwear.

Twenty minutes later, she was barefoot and sharing a stool with him at the packed bar, and they had yet another round of banana daiquiris in front of them.

“’s not your fault,” she assured him, patting his leg. The Doctor tried to disguise the shiver that went through him at her touch.

“I broke your other heel too,” he lamented. 

“’s okay,” she said, squeezing his knee, “I hate high heels, can’t run in them.”

The Doctor gazed out at the crowd passing in and out of the duty-free shop across the way and a brilliant idea occurred to him.

“Wait here,” he instructed her.

He was back in a jiffy with a newly purchased pair of Chucks for her. They even matched her red blouse. She laughed when he made sure to point this out to her and launched into a lecture on the merits of proper footwear and little shops in airports. The Doctor wished he could’ve recorded that laugh and could’ve bottled the feeling that it evoked inside of him.

Suddenly, the crew announced that they were preparing for boarding.

“Sorry, I’ve got to run for my life,” he said, throwing some money down on the bar to cover both drinks. 

It didn’t occur to him until he was seated at the back of the plane with his nose in a book and a warm tingly feeling resonating in his chest that he’d felt so comfortable with her, and yet he hadn’t even learned her name.

* 

The flight was a nightmare. Rose loved travelling and was looking forward to seeing her father and finally getting a tour of Los Angeles and the new Vitex Headquarters, but the flight had been turbulent and in spite of everything Rose had tried to do to help, her seatmate had gotten violently ill. She hadn’t been the only one. The plane was forced to make an emergency landing because of the inclement weather and one of the flight attendants suddenly taking ill as well. Rose was seated in first class and was therefore one of the first to exit the plane, only after another flight attendant assured her that the other woman would be fine and was being seen to by a doctor.

Rose didn’t know where they ended up, but it became immediately clear judging from the empty terminal, that this place was a far cry from Heathrow. All of the gates were empty, save for a few sparrows that were hopping from seat to seat, eagerly looking for crumbs. 

“Where are we?” Rose wondered aloud.

“No idea,” a voice said cheerfully and Rose turned to find the bloke from the airport bar beaming at her. “Hello again,” he greeted her, wiggling his fingers.

“Hello,” Rose echoed, smiling widely. He had some great hair, some really great hair. She honestly wasn’t sure how long they stood there staring at each other as the rest of the passengers flowed around them and ran for the baggage claim and the customer service desk.

“Nice Chucks,” he complimented her with a wink.  

“Thanks,” she said with a touch-touched grin that caused him to sway toward her as if she was magnetic. “’m Rose,” she introduced herself. 

“I’m the Doctor,” he said, taking her hand. The way his fingers curled around hers, felt right, so right that she was reluctant to let go.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. 

“Starved,” Rose admitted. “I want chips.” 

“Allonsy,” he said, leading the way. “Let’s go find a chippie.” 

*

It quickly became clear that they were not in London anymore.

“Closed?” The Doctor sputtered for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. “What do you mean you’re closed?”

“It’s gonna snow,” the manager of the fourth and final place to eat explained with a shrug. “The whole airport’s shutting down. 

“But what about our flight?”

The manager shrugged again.

“It’ll be rescheduled,” he grunted, “Maybe in a few days?”

“A few days?” The Doctor’s jaw dropped, but the manager was already pushing past him with his staff eagerly following him out of the terminal.

Rose and the Doctor discovered that while they’d wasted their time tracking down all four of the places that served food, their fellow passengers had been discussing and making rearrangements. By the time they got to the last couple of harried airport employees, there wasn’t much left.

“We don’t know when the next flight out will be,” the kindly representative, Lynda explained to them and one other passenger in a ballcap. “They’re saying we could get six inches of snow.”

“Six? That’s it?” barked the passenger with a nasally accent next to them, “Where I come from, that’s nothing. Let me tell you about the blizzard of ’78. I had to dig myself out of a snow drift eight feet high and walk all the way to the packie for a six-pack of beer-”

“We only have five snow plows for the entire state and one of them got hit by a truck yesterday,” Lynda interrupted him. “But they salted the roads two days ago, so hopefully we’ll be up and running by Wednesday.”

“Two days ago!” the passenger barked. “What the fuck is that supposed to do? Do you guys even know how to de-ice a plane? Does anyone here even own an ice scraper? Or a shovel?”

“If the snow sticks and we get as much as they’re predicting,” Lynda explained to a very confused Rose and the Doctor, “The whole state will shut down for the next forty-eight hours, possibly longer depending on how quickly it melts. I’m sorry. I can put you up in a room in the hotel across the road, courtesy of British Airways, but I’ve only got one room left.”

Rose and the Doctor were too stunned to disagree. With a few clicks the agent had arranged for them to share a room for a night, possibly two, depending on the weather. 

“There’s a convenience store right outside the hotel,” she informed them, “I’d recommend stocking up on supplies before we get snowed in and they close.”

“Where’s the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts? What about Market Basket?” the other man was demanding as Rose and the Doctor gathered up their baggage and hurried out before the shop closed.

Luckily the hotel was in walking distance, but the shop was attached to a petrol station. Rose and the Doctor were shocked by the amount of cars lined up for petrol and the amount of people who left their cars running to do their shopping. The shop was small, but what little they had was swept up into the arms of anxious, fearful people prepared to weather an apocalypse. Surely, Rose and the Doctor must’ve heard the weather reports wrong, because the shelves were practically bare. One of the clerks told them that a fist fight had nearly erupted over the last case of water. All that remained now was one slightly smooshed loaf of bread and a carton of milk that had the sell by date rubbed off.

The Doctor opened the milk up, sniffed it, and decided that it would do. He added the last three jars of some weird organic jam to their basket as well, ignoring Rose’s roll of her eyes when he insisted on opening that up to sample as well.

The Doctor actually crowed in triumph when the shopkeeper brought out some bananas that had been missed in the back. But once Rose confessed that she’d actually brought tea and biscuits from home at her father’s request, the Doctor gave her a smile so blindingly bright that her face warmed.

“Rose,” he gushed, taking her hand and swinging it between them, “You are fantastic!”

They left the shop together just as it was beginning to snow. Tiny flurries drifted down around them and the Doctor made a dramatic show of trying to catch them on his tongue. He kept her laughing right up until they approached the front desk of the hotel and found out they’d been given a room.

A room with only one bed.

“Are you sure there aren’t any other rooms available?” the Doctor asked the concierge. But the man apologized that they were all booked up because of the grounded flights and the ‘blizzard’ coming in.

“Isn’t it exciting? They’re saying we could get up to a foot of snow!” the concierge squealed, “I’ve never seen snow before. I can’t wait to build my first snowman!” He clapped his hands together enthusiastically, oblivious to Rose and the Doctor’s strained smiles as they considered the prospect of sharing a hotel room and a bed with a stranger for multiple nights.

The lift was small, but their room seemed even smaller to Rose once the door clicked shut behind them. Logically Rose knew the hotel room was probably larger than most of the rooms she’d stayed in over the last few years, but she didn’t think the Doctor had been quite so tall, so manly and so attractive until they were in a confined space together.

And that was bad, very bad, because Rose had just gotten out of an awful relationship and she had no intention of starting another one. After Jimmy Stone, Rose didn’t want to even look at another man, let alone sleep in the same bed as one.

No matter how much more fit and brilliant the bloke appeared to be in comparison to her ex.

“I can sleep on the floor,” Rose offered generously at the same time as he did.

They looked at each other and then glanced away again with a bit of nervous laughter. The Doctor rubbed at the nape of his neck and Rose sat down on the edge of the bed to unlace her Chucks that unfortunately weren’t quite broken in yet. She couldn’t quite disguise a flinch as she removed her left shoe. The new shoes had made the blisters that had formed from her ruined heel worse. 

“Mind if I take a look?” he offered, and Rose folded her arms over her chest.

“You broke my other heel,” she reminded him pointedly. “’m not sure I trust you around anything. 

“I’m a Doctor,” he assured her, “Well, sort of,” he mollified removing a pair of specs from the inside of his suit jacket, “I have a Doctorate in Physics and Chemistry, but I only did a brief stint in Engineering, Astronomy and Medicine, but that has to count for something, right?”

Rose blinked at him and he took that as permission. Kneeling down on the carpet at her feet, he carefully examined her left foot. Her eyelids slid to half-mast as he started to massage her heel and the arch of her foot, and then her toes. She was practically purring by the time he finished up with one foot and moved onto the other.

“You spend a lot of time on your feet,” he noted, repeating the same glorious patterns on her right foot.

“Used to work in a shop, twelve-hour shifts, constantly running around,” she explained, suppressing a moan of pleasure as he hit just the right spot with his magical fingers. The Doctor must’ve caught the sound she made, because he abruptly released her foot and stood up.

“Right, well, it looks like as long as you don’t wear shoes for the next few days those blisters should heal up on their own,” he said, backing away from her. The room was so small that he didn’t get very far.

“Don’t think that should be much of a problem, seeing as we’re not going anywhere for the next couple of days,” Rose sighed and looked out the window. In the glow of lamplight in the car park, she could see the snowflakes coming down faster and heavier.

The Doctor stepped toward the window and pushed the curtains wide. If it kept snowing like this then there was no way he was going to get out in time to make his appointment with Pete Tyler, and if he didn’t get the funding for Vitex, his colleagues and friends were going to lose their jobs, and the Doctor would never get a chance to get the vaccine out for a disease that was affecting millions of lives.

“You alright?”

He turned around and found Rose, bathed in the soft ambient lighting of the hotel room. The red blouse paired beautifully with what was left of her lipstick and highlighted the healthy rosy flush to her cheeks. She’d taken her hair down from its updo and her hair was longer than he expected, spilling down over her shoulders.

Rose reminded him a bit of Reinette, but there was nothing fake about her or her beauty. Her kindness and the beating heart that it came from was all genuine. It was a shame he’d sworn off relationships after his affair with the Parisian had ended in heartbreak, because he already knew that Rose was beautiful inside and out.

“I’m fine,” he lied.

She gave him a skeptical look, but fortunately she didn’t press him as she gathered up her toiletries and a change of clothes.

“Gonna use the loo, unless…” She waited for him to object, but he motioned for her to go ahead.

And then he was left alone again to contemplate how he was about to lose everything he’d worked for over the last decade, letting down more and more people with every snowflake that piled up outside.

TO BE CONTINUED...

#31 days of ficmas #doctorroseprompts #fic and chips #my writing

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

voiceless jaskier au (pt 7)

Chapter 4 is, with this, complete and shortly will be on AO3! And also possibly my longest chapter. YAY! 

In which I actually let Jaskier have a Not Shitty Day (and Geralt has a much more shitty day)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3

---------------------

Geralt was, perhaps unsurprisingly, not back yet when Jaskier woke up, surrounded by the papers that held everything he'd purged the night before. He sat and stared blankly at the detritus of his hurt and anger, feeling hollowed out and weary.

Hollowed out and weary, but not like he was going to get lost in the mist again, which brought on a feeling of something like relief. He got out of bed and pulled fresh(ish) clothes on, being careful not to disturb any of the papers as he did. That was the thing, he was angry still, and he thought he had every right to be. Geralt didn't get to be overwhelmingly attentive one moment and then just refuse to listen to him the next, especially before running off to maybe get himself killed without thinking about how Jaskier would survive.

No, Jaskier thought with an admittedly bitter-tasting sort of pride, the papers would stay. He couldn't yell at Geralt, but as emotionally raw as he felt glancing over the things he'd written, maybe it would get through to Geralt and he'd look next time. And the time after that. And every time Jaskier was trying so hard to reach out of the silent pit he'd fallen into to connect to another goddamn person.

That decided, clothed and with a clean face from scrubbing in the washbasin, Jaskier considered his options. He could swear up and down to the innkeeper that the witcher would be back to pay for any meals he might have while staying alone, but the fact was that most people would be dubious of a witcher's guarantee to come back. Especially given how quickly he left, for the next town over. Jaskier could, instead, set up in the main room or the town square with his lute and play, and hope for some generosity from the townsfolk. The problem was that without his voice, he was limited to only the sound of his lute itself. Which, admittedly, was fantastic, but wasn't likely to earn him much of anything. Instrumental music was for banquets and noble halls, before the night moved on to more energetic entertainment. People in a little place like this looked to a bard for entertainment with jigs, melodramatic ballads, tales of adventure, and songs about maidens fucking farmboys. Jaskier could play a mean jig, but for the rest... well.

And anyway, doing that would mean actually playing, and thinking about it still made something twist up in his stomach.

No, not today, he thought, and snagged his tablet before heading to the door. Today, he would hope that the innkeeper or one of his neighbors would take pity on him and give him some sort of small job to do in exchange for food or a little bit of money. It wasn't something Jaskier was looking forward to, silently begging for the chance to do menial labor, but it wasn't like he had many options.

**

The innkeeper did have a few unskilled tasks that he usually had his daughter do alone, but he seemed to be perfectly happy to let Jaskier help with them in exchange for food, even giving him breakfast before setting him to work.

"That witcher of yours left you here without coin for food?" he'd asked, eyes narrowed, when Jaskier approached him. Jaskier shrugged, spreading his hands dramatically, trying to play it off as sort of a 'witchers, am I right?' situation. The innkeeper shook his head, grumbling. "Damn thoughtless creature," he'd said, and ushered Jaskier into a seat near the kitchen. Jaskier wanted to protest, to speak up in Geralt's defense, mention how careful Geralt had been up to this point, but once he was seated and eating porridge and sausage, he had to admit he didn't disagree.

Geralt had been damn thoughtless, and Jaskier was still fucking angry.

The chores were hardly complicated, even for him. Washing breakfast dishes, helping boil water for laundry (which he was allowed to drop his own dirty clothes into, and pointedly did not bring Geralt's down for), helping hang the laundry to dry. Not exactly easy, nor the sorts of chores he'd ever had to do growing up, but it was something to pass the time, and made him at least feel useful for the first time since the djinn. The innkeeper's daughter was seventeen, sharp as a whip, and named Hanna. She kept up a steady, if not constant, commentary throughout the day, giving her thoughts on what she wanted from life, how well (or poorly) Jaskier was doing at following her directions, and various gossip and theories about passing townsfolk that they could see from the back yard of the inn. She got him to laugh more than once with her sharp commentary, and he felt if they could've had a proper conversation he would've enjoyed her even more. She even shared her lunch with him, half a small loaf of bread, a chunk of cheese, and an apple that she imperiously demanded he slice for them, which made him laugh yet again.

(She'd started singing at one point, in the absent way people did when they were doing a familiar task, and he'd faltered in his movements hanging the laundry on the line, his hands frozen in the process of pinning someone's chemise up. He'd forgotten until that moment, despite not being able to answer her as she chatted, that he couldn't sing anymore. It hit him like a punch to the chest and for a long moment he felt like he couldn't breathe. Hanna hadn't said anything, but she must have noticed, and she resumed talking about the exploits of her friend Maja instead of her song, and didn't sing again. Jaskier felt guilty and grateful in equal measure for that.)

It was a good day, probably the first good day he'd had in... how long had it been, two weeks? Longer? The first good day since even before the lake, though he'd hoped briefly when he found Geralt that his day was getting better. More the fool him. But this day of feeling useful and not pitied was what he needed and Jaskier was very relaxed (if already sore and sweaty) by the time the late afternoon sun was warming him as he weeded the kitchen garden alone, Hanna having gone in to help start supper.

Or he was relaxed until the door to the kitchen was thrown open with a loud bang, and he briefly was grateful for his enforced silence because he can tell he would've just screeched embarrassingly otherwise. Geralt of fucking Rivia was the culprit, looking tensed for a fight. Jaskier barely had time to wonder what could possibly have gone so wrong while he was outside that Geralt was looking like that when Geralt's eyes locked on him, kneeling in the dirt with his shirtsleeves rolled up and a weed in his hand, and the tension seemed to bleed out of him. Not that anyone but Jaskier or maybe another witcher would've noticed, as little changed, but the feeling that Geralt was readying himself for a dust up dissipated.

Jaskier obviously couldn't say anything, but that was very far from anything he expected to happen, and he raised an eyebrow, not otherwise moving.

"Excuse me," Hanna's voice came from behind Geralt in the kitchen. "If you don't mind, sir witcher, we're busy in here. Go out or come in, but don't just stand there all in the way!"

Geralt half-turned with a startled frown, and Jaskier couldn't imagine the scathing look the girl must've been giving him that prompted him to simply grunt out a quiet "Sorry," before stepping outside, closing the door behind him.

Jaskier almost laughed at the disconcerted expression on Geralt's face in the wake of whatever look Hanna had subjected him to, before remembering why he was out here in the first place. Instead, he pressed his lips in a line, his good mood already fled in favor of lingering anger and resentment, and pointedly looked down and resumed weeding. Geralt walked closer and it occurred to Jaskier that he'd left his tablet upstairs after going to fetch his laundry, because he didn't want to risk it getting lost or stepped on, and Hanna hadn't needed it to get on just fine with him. Whatever conversation he had with Geralt right now was, by nature, going to be extremely one-sided, as Jaskier both couldn't talk to him and wasn't speaking to him.

Geralt stopped at the edge of the garden plot, a few feet away from where Jaskier was kneeling, and just... stood there. Jaskier'd intended to just let him stew until he felt like speaking up, but eventually the silent looming got to Jaskier, and he left off the weeding to sit back on his heels and spread his arms. What?

"You weren't there," Geralt rumbled, an inscrutable and alien (to Jaskier, anyway, which was actually pretty strange) expression on his face. Jaskier frowned slightly, then pushed himself to his feet and brushed his hands off on his trousers, eyes never leaving Geralt's face, and the expression he didn't recognize.

"You weren't there," Geralt repeats after a few beats of silence, clearly struggling to get words out. "There was all the paper talking about how angry you were, and your lute was there, and the wax tablets were there, and it didn't smell like you'd been there for hours."

Oh. Jaskier's shield around his heart cracks a little bit. The big idiot had been scared. Of something having happened to him, maybe, or of him having left, or something Jaskier can't think of, but the point was that Geralt was scared and had flipped out because of it, stormed the kitchen and threw open the backdoor to make sure Jaskier was there. There was "mad at him" and there was "being an ass to him", so Jaskier softened and reached out a hand to put on one of the arms Geralt had crossed protectively in front of his chest. A soft little exhalation escaped Geralt's lips, and Jaskier thought honestly if he was the sort of person who cried, Geralt might be crying from relief now. Jaskier had wanted Geralt to know and understand how angry he'd been last night, but he'd never really meant to scare or hurt him, so it was his turn to apologize. Not for being mad, he refused to apologize for that sort of thing, but for scaring him.

Jaskier looped his arm through Geralt's, dirt and sweat and all, and tugged him back towards the door. Geralt let himself be led, not taking his eyes off Jaskier as they moved. Jaskier waved and smiled apologetically to Hanna and her mother as they cut quickly through the kitchen, and saw the disdainfully disappointed look the innkeeper shot Geralt as they passed, and then it was upstairs and into their room. The pages that had been scattered on every surface were more or less in a pile on the bed, like Geralt had grabbed each one of them, read it, then grabbed the next and the next, before dropping them and racing out to find him. Which... was probably what had happened.

The giant idiot.

Jaskier unlinked their arms to move the papers, dropping them to the side of the bed carelessly, because frankly they didn't matter now that they'd been read, herded Geralt to the bed and pushed him to sit down, and then retrieved his tablet from the side table, rubbing his hands on his trousers again to keep any dirt from getting ground into the wax.

You're an idiot, was the first thing Jaskier wrote, turned around to show Geralt with fond exasperation. Geralt opened his mouth to respond and Jaskier held a finger up to stop him, adding more under it. And an ass. Geralt huffed, frustrated, and scowled slightly.

"Jaskier."

Oh, fine, he'd go faster and stop just listing things that Geralt, patently and provably, was. I'm angry, not stupid. What did you think happened?

"I don't know," Geralt grumbled with a faint grimace, not looking up at Jaskier's face. "The papers were ripped out of your journal. The messages seemed... desperate."

Jaskier sighed and sat on the bed next to Geralt, tucking one leg up under him, and smoothed the wax before starting in on a longish message.

You didn't look when I had a message to show you. This is my voice right now. I can't shout. Maybe throw it at your head but it might break. And you didn't think about how I would pay for anything, which was what I was trying to ask you. But you didn't look. You can't not look, Geralt. His handwriting wasn't great, admittedly, especially writing smaller, but it was readable when he held it out to Geralt.

"Hm," Geralt handed the tablet back, and Jaskier started smoothing the wax again. "I'm... sorry. It was thoughtless. You could've gotten hurt." He sounded sincere to Jaskier's ears, if a bit reluctant. Jaskier knew Geralt struggled to talk about his own feelings, let alone his fears. Jaskier had never known Geralt to talk about his fears, and while he hadn't said so explicitly, the fear that Jaskier could've gotten hurt, and it would've been Geralt's fault, seemed like an obvious jump from what he'd said. And really, it made sense. Geralt considered what happened to Jaskier's voice his fault. It would be him failing Jaskier again if anything but a truly spectacular meltdown and some laundry had happened while Geralt had been gone.

Jaskier bumped his shoulder up against Geralt's as he wrote, Geralt leaning in a little to watch the letters forming, and Jaskier's breath almost hitched from the smell of him so close in his space (even the sweat and horse that permeated him). Forgiven if you never do it again. Promise?

"I promise," Geralt responded even before Jaskier finished writing, solemn as anything. "I'll always look. If it needs to wait, I'll say. But I promise I'll look."

Jaskier patted Geralt's knee in acceptance and smiled. Good. Dinner. He stood, then stopped on his way to the door to quickly add, I earned dinner tonight. You can pay for baths. He showed Geralt and gave him a smug, cheeky grin, and Geralt's eyes flicked from the tablet to his face and met his eyes without response for just a moment too long to be entirely comfortable. Then the moment passed, and Geralt pushed himself to his feet.

"All right," he agreed. "You look like you've been rolling in the mud all day, you could use one." He chuckled at Jaskier's indignant expression and got a smack upside the head with the tablet as they made their way back downstairs.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #fic #my fic #voiceless jaskier au

[purplesurveys]

1001

survey by voicedance16

Name A...

Name yourself:  I said this like, seven surveys ago. To make things different, I share my name with a bird and Rihanna’s first name. 

Name (one of) your best friend(s): Angela. Sister for life.

Name 3 things in your fridge/freezer: We have a loaf of white bread, a near-empty bottle of Japanese mayonnaise, and a tub of liver.

Name a color you're wearing currently: Pink and orange. I ended up going to the virtual Halloween party at work - went as Dora - and it was a blast. I’m SO glad impersonating our characters didn’t turn out to be mandatory; I just sat there and was happy to be there, lmao. 

Name the last thing you ate: A ham sandwich.

Name the last store you went to: Does the vet count? They sell pet food over there, so it’s kind of like a store I guess. I went last weekend because Cooper needed a heartworm test and a couple of shots.

Name the song you're listening to: Nada.

Name the artist of that song: See above.

Name your favorite animal: Dogs! Elephants are a close second.

Name what pets you have, if any: I have two dogs, an aspin and a beagle.

Name the town/state you live in: I won’t give away the city, but I will say Metro Manila is a literal stone’s throw away. I live right at the border.

Name something commonly ordered at Starbucks: Like...in general? I’m not aware of the most common food/drink ordered by other people but if I had to pick a guess, I know frappes are popular among my age group and the age group before us and that java chip is a popular flavor. But if you’re just referring to my usual, I like getting an iced caramel macchiato.

Name the last person you talked to in person: My dad. They gave us a box of Halloween donuts AND cake pops at work today :’) so I just asked my dad if he wanted a donut.

Name the last person you talked to on the phone: Mom. But my last call in general was a Zoom call with the entire company just a few minutes ago for the Halloween party.

Name the current day of the week: Today issss Wednesday.

Name the current month: October.

Name the current time: 6:55 PM.

Name the last movie you watched: I’m Thinking of Ending Things, blech. Need a happier movie to mention.

Name the last book you read: I’ve mentioned it too many times on a lot of recent surveys.

Name a place you've been on vacation: Bali.

Name a place you'd like to go on vacation: I desperately need to go back to Sagada, or at least Tagaytay. I think visitors are already allowed to go to the latter so I’m really eyeing a solo, soul-searching trip soon. As for places I’ve never been to before but would make for interesting vacations, I’d go with Chicago and Marrakesh.

Name 3 things you can see from where you're sitting: I can see an empty mug that used to contain coffee, a box of cake pops, and a purple pen.

Name your favorite musical: Miss Saigon.

Name an animal (any): The first animal that came to mind was dragonfly.

Name a fruit: Avocado, the only bitch in the house that I ever respected.

Name a vegetable: Broccoli, my favorite.

Name a common breakfast food: Where I live, beef tapa.

Name a color: Dandelion.

Name a type of flower: ...Dandelion!

Name a type of tree: Pine. Not that we have any here lol, but it’s the first kind I thought of.

Name a city: Uhh, idk. Let’s go with Seattle.

Name a state: I first thought of Wisconsin because I have a lot of family living there.

Name a country: Let’s go outside of the States and go with Sweden.

Name a continent: Asia.

Name a planet: Mars.

Name a girl's name: Clara. Such a pretty-sounding name.

Name the last person to comment you on Facebook: I haven’t had Facebook in weeks and I genuinely can’t remember from whom I received my last comment before I deactivated.

Name a clothing store/brand: Mango.

Name the last book you got at the library: It’s called History of the Filipino People, written by one of my great-uncles.

Name a restaurant: Max’s, even though their food sucks.

Name a grocery store: SM.

Name an iPhone app: Like, an Apple-exclusive app? I think Keynote is one of them.

Name an actor: Eddie Redmayne! One of my favorites.

Name an actress: Kate Winslet, my biggest crush through and through.

Name a music group: Destiny’s Child.

Name your favorite/lucky number: I don’t have a lucky number, but 4 is my favorite. I don’t have a solid reason for it to be my favorite; it just is.

Name something you've accomplished:  Graduating college from my dream school in my (then-)dream degree/course.

Name something you'd like to accomplish: Travel, and travel a lot.

Name someone who makes you laugh: Andi made me smile and chuckle a bit today, so let’s name them.

Name something exciting coming up soon: Nothing too specific, really. But I’m supposed to be receiving my internship cut any day now and it’s gonna be my first salary ever, so that’s pretty exciting :)

Name a song that makes you emotional: 26 by Paramore.

Name one of your pet peeves: People who call without texting or notifying beforehand. Holy fucking shit. A hiring manager did this exact thing to me yesterday and I rejected her call because she did not text first. I honestly have no regrets, and I wouldn’t have been bitter if she stopped pursuing me then. 

Name someone you know who is an amazing singer: Hannah, without a doubt.

Name someone who is the same religion as you: JM.

Name a holiday you celebrate: Christmas. I can hardly believe another one is coming up soon.

Name the last 4 digits of your phone number: Uh, no thanks.

Name one of your cousins: Sam.

Name a book you loved when you were younger: I used to really love the Septimus Heap series by Angie Sage and I reread the first book, Magyk, more times than I could ever count.

Name a song you loved when you were younger: Big Girls Don’t Cry - Fergie.

Name your favorite movie: Two for the Road.

Name a popular book series: The Hunger Games, even though I never actually read it.

Name a musical instrument: A song played on a solo saxophone...

Name a language: German.

Name what other tabs you have open: On this window, just Bzoink. I just closed a YouTube tab.

Name 3 things on the walls of the room you're in: Audrey Hepburn wall decors, a painting that I’m trying to cover up with post-its to turn it into something positive, and uhhh my aircon is mounted to the wall if that counts lol

Name your house number: I’m not sharing that.

Name your high school: It’s an all-girls Catholic school in my city. I’ve shared the name before but I don’t feel like doing so tonight.

Name your college, if applicable: My college was in mass communication, but I went to university in UP.

Name your middle school: See high school.

name your elementary school Again, see high school.

Name the college you wish you went to/hope to go to: UP.

Name your favorite teacher: My music teacher throughout high school. I don’t like her subject, but I love her.

Name the color of your backpack: I haven’t had to use a backpack in a while but my main one is pink.

Name a dessert: Creme brulee. I don’t memorize which letters have those accent marks and I don’t feel like looking that up right now.

Name a famous landmark: Because I can clearly read the next question, the Statue of Liberty.

Name a place you might go in NYC: I’d go straight to my uncle’s so that he can show me the good spots. He has a lot of cool friends who run their own bars/restaurants in the city so if anyone knows how to have a good time in NYC without having to go to all the big tourist places, it’s him. GOD I can’t wait to go to New York.

Name an inventor: Hedy Lamarr.

Name an article of clothing: Scarves.

Name an ice cream flavor: Mint chocolate chip, yum.

Name a religion: Buddhism.

Name an emotion: Resentment. 

Name a room in your house: My bedroom, because that’s where I’m staying in at the moment.

Name a website: Wikipedia.

Name a car: This is pretty vague. A kind of car? Hatchback. Are you looking for a make? Toyota. Or maybe a specific model? Honda Civic. I gotchu.

Name something you need to do today: SLEEP. I should not be awake at 11 PM.

Name someone you admire: Andi.

Name someone you miss: At the moment, nobody.

Name a part of the body: Elbow.

Name the last youtube video you watched: I bawled my eyes out to a video playing the audio to Ben&Ben’s Kathang Isip because that song makes so much goddamn sense and is relatable now. Can’t I just go back to a simpler time when that song was just fun to listen to and wasn’t actually relevant to my life? I hate music sometimes.

Name a quote you love: I don’t have one.

#survey #surveys #this was a challenge to make entertaining bleh

[and-other-savory-things]

Phillip & Schmidt pt. 4

Can you tell it’s quarantine I’m actually writing shit. CW for mentioned child abuse and more angst than anything else. you can find the rest of these guys here if tumblr is nice to me.

Phillip was not expecting to come home today and see his brother for the first time in 6 years leaning outside his apartment building.

“Phil…” Damien stood up immediately once Phillip was in sight.

The two brothers stood 6 feet apart, staring at each other in silence before one of them moved. His brother looked like he was going in for a hug, and Phillip instinctively stopped him with what could have been passed as a wave. “Hey, Damien.”

He changed tactic. “You’ve gotten so tall, man.”

“Yeah, 6 and a half years will do that to you,” Phillip replies as he lets himself into the building. “Come on up, I guess.”

Once inside his apartment, Phillip shed his bag and jacket. “How’d you find me?”

Damien laughed, as if any of this situation was humourous. “You don’t exactly keep a low profile, dude. And when I heard that Dad was gone-”

“That was 2 years ago, Damien.” Phillip shot him a look before turning to grab the loaf of bread on his counter. It was quiet for long enough that Phillip was half way through making his sandwich before he got suspicious and looked up at the other man. His brother was staring with a furrow in his brow at what Phillip was doing. “What?”

“Shit, Phil… what happened to your arm?”

Phillip looked down at the nasty gash of a scar across his forearm, visible in his t-shirt. “Oh, this?” he threw down the butter knife and turned to face Damien, a bite in his voice and a snarling smile on his face. “Yeah, that was from your friend, what was his name again? You helped him out a lot, gave him tips on how to create the weapon that did this actually. Thanks for that, real heroic of you. Oh, and this one?” Damien looked like he was going to say something, but Phillip wasn’t done yet. He yanked his shirt collar to the side, revealing another scar along his collar bone and top of his shoulder. His plastered on smile dropped from his face. “This one’s from dear old Pops, who you left me with, alone, when I was 15, Damien.” His voice dropped into a snarl. “I started my first day of grade 10 with a black eye and hunting for a brother who didn’t love me enough to stick around, so why the hell do you think you can show up now?”

Damien’s face was pale, looking like he’d just been stabbed. Phillip didn’t care. “Phillip, I… I’m so sorry. I left because I loved you. I wanted-”

“Oh, fuck off!” Phillip shook his head silently, trying to wrap his mouth around words in anger. “I used to defend you! I used to say the exact same thing, but did it make you come back? Did it mean you were there for me when I needed you?” His angry rampage was interrupted by the buzzing of his phone. An alert from Cassidy, his tech girl.

King and John. Rooftop.

“Sorry, bro.” His voice drips with contempt as he holds up his phone. “Gotta go save the city you abandoned.”

------

Schmidt looked up when the blue-haired superhero landed on the rooftop with him. “Hey, nice of you to join us!” His grin contrasted Phillip’s murderous glare.

“Look, Schmidt, I am really not in the mood for this.” He motioned to the villain and his equipment. “Cut this shit, your plan won’t work anyways, and we’ll not do this whole thing tonight, yeah?”

Schmidt narrowed his eyes. “Um, no? I worked on this plan for weeks, I’m going through with it. I’m not going to stop just because you’re in a pissy mood.”

Phillip rubbed his eyes. “Are you seriou- fine.” He lit his hands on fire. “Fine! You wanna do it this way? We’ll do it this way.”

------

The fight went miserably for Phillip, if getting knocked out and waking up tied to a chair was anything to go by. He struggled for a minute before looking up and seeing Schmidt in front of him, leaning back in his own chair with his arms and ankles crossed.

Schmidt waited until he stopped thrashing before he spoke. “You want to tell me what’s up with you tonight?”

“Fuck you,” Phillip snarled, “I’m not having some heart to heart with the guy who chucked me off a building a half hour ago.”

Schmidt tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. “It’s been at least an hour and a half, but okay. Guess we’ll just sit here then.”

“Guess so.” Phillip’s glare met his opponent’s unimpressed expression for a good 5 minutes before he looked away and sighed.

“My brother’s back,” he said to the floor.

Schmidt’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief before his expression morphed into the smile of a man intent on murder. “Really.”

Phillip flicked his eyes up and back down. “Yeah he-” Phillip lifted up his head as he registered Schmidt’s expression. “What are you- why are you smiling like that, Schmidty, don’t fucking… murder my brother!”

“I wasn’t going to! I wasn’t. Not… completely.” Schmidt schooled his expression. “Why is he back?”

Phillip shrugged as much as he could with his hands tied behind his back. “I dunno. To apologize? Reunite?” Schmidt snorted, and Phillip looked at him, confused. “Okay, what do you have against him?” “Besides the fact that he’s clearly upset you enough to make you put up the worst fight I’ve seen in years?”

Phillip dipped his head, chagrined. “Besides that, yeah.”

Schmidt’s tone turned serious again. “Because he left you. I don’t care what the situation is, that’s not what a brother does.”

Phillip huffed. “And you’d know?”

“Yeah! I would!” Schmidt retorts. “I’m a great brother! I call my sister once a week. She lives in Memphis and has two sons who I would turn over the world for and I would never abandon her. Especially if she needed me.”

Phillip is silent for a moment before letting out a small laugh. “You’re something, Schmidty, you know that?” He sighs. “I can’t blame him for leaving, though. I mean, I would have, too, if I was him. It… sucked. I just wish he’d taken me with him. But I can’t really blame him for that either.”

Schmidt shifted forward and placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “You were a kid, Phillip. You didn’t deserve to go through any of the things you did. And I’m sorry for the times I didn’t see how much you were hurting.”

Phillip sniffed. “You were probably a better brother to me than he was, honestly.”

Schmidt scrunched his face up tight and took a deep breath. “Don’t make me cry, kid, or I’m going to have to punch you again.”

Phillip laughed and shook the tear out of his own eye. “Could you just untie me instead, please?”

#my writing #angst #tooooooo much angst #it's all i can do i'm sorry #scars #scar reveal #superhero #villain #phillip is like #21 or smthg here idk age #whoops *accidentally makes my villain a better person than my hero #whoop #cw child abuse #my ocs #oc phillip #oc schmidt #phillip and schmidt #i just want them to have a heart to heart #also schmidt definitely finished the job after knocking phillip out before having their heart to heart #he's got his priorities straight #anyways ask me about my ocs i will go on forever

[vampiremansionpoolboy-moved]

sk8 au week - day 2: royalty and soulmates

reki kyan was nearing his eighteenth birthday and he had yet to meet his soulmate. reki has heard the whispers of the people in the town about people who don’t fine their soulmates. it’s not that he didn’t have one -he did, for your information, thank you very much- but because reki was from a royal family, and therefore a prince, he was to be married off and did not have the luxury of being with his soulmate. unless his soulmate was from another royal family, but reki had seen where his red string lead: straight into the center of the town below. so no such luck for another noble as his soulmate.

reki’s mother had tried to let him build friendships and hopefully relationships with the other royal children around his age, but reki had dreams about meeting his soulmate and never developed anything more than friendship with the other royals.

reki stared at his red string, eyes tracing its path down into the village, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. sometimes when he sleep he caught glimpses of a tall, pale, slender figure and bright blue eyes. reki wondered what those eyes would look like mere inches from his own.

suddenly a book smacked into the back of reki’s head, startling him from his daydream.

“what the fuck-“ reki’s head whipped around.

“hey there slime.” said a voice.

reki groaned at the sight of the boy sitting atop his desk.

“hello miya.” he grumbled.

“what’re you looking at?” the young prince asked, a catlike smirk breaking out on his face.

“nothing,” reki said pushing himself up and walking over to miya.

“so is your mom still making you meet that prince for dinner tonight?” miya hummed as he twirled a pen in his hands.

reki’s mother was much more kind with her son and his romantic predicament, compared to reki’s father who was ready to married his son off without a meeting between the spouses. but after his father ran away with the sevrant girl he impregnated no one stuck to his old rules.

“yes, but i have a plan to escape and i need your help.” reki said placing his hands on miya’s shoulders.

“i’m all ears,” miya said leaning forward as if reki’s mother was outside the door and eavesdropping this very moment.

“ok so i need you to mix up joe and shadow’s schedules so they’re both in the great hall at the same time. we cant have a fancy dinner set up if the cook and florist are in there at the same time now can we?”

“i like what i’m hearing.”

“and then i need you and koyomi to either distract the stable hand while sneak through the barn.”

“done. is that all you need?”

“yep. the rest is up to me. joe accidentally let it slip that his soulmate is the craftsman in town and that he sneaks out at the exit

behind the greenhouses to meet him. so thanks to joe i’ve got my escape route all planned.”

“well look at this, prince reki ditching the feast planned just for him. who would have thought?” miya asked with a laugh.

“well after how the last dinner ended it’s not that surprising.” reki said with a shudder as he remembered the glazed goat falling onto the poor princess who was just looking for a potential marriage partner.

miya let out snicker at the memory. “well now that you say that...”

“anyways i have to hurry if i wanna make it before my mom sends a servant to make sure i’m ready.”

“oh right right let’s go. i’ll go get koyomi and head to the stables. see you soon.” and with a wink miya slipped out the door and was gone. grabbing a cloak from his bed, reki fastened the clasp and dashed out the room after miya.

he was sick of all this arranged marriage bullshit, he was sick of it all. reki just wanted to meet his soulmate and fall in love. he knew his thoughts were selfish though. he was the eldest of the four kyan children and his mom was doing her best to rule a kingdom by herself, so by default his marriage was bound to be political. it was very unlikely he would end up with his soulmate.

and so that’s why reki was going to meet his soulmate tonight. he would meet them and apologize for being a lousy soulmate before heading back to the castle to meet the prince who he was supposed to be dinning with.

for most of reki’s life he soulmate had lead to a place up in the snowy mountains. but within the past few years the string moved into the town below the castle reki lived in. just like fate his soulmate moved to his home town. but it was someone else’s fate, not his. so reki made up his mind weeks ago: meet his soulmate, apologize, then finally agree to a political marriage. his plan would take away his curiously about his soulmate, it would hopefully lessen his guilt about not being able to be with said soulmate, and it would make his mom happy. so why didn’t he like what he was about to do?

ignoring the heavy feeling in his stomach reki pushed on. running quietly through the halls reki hid behind stone pillars and over large plant pots when he needed too. finally reaching the barn reki slipped into there to see miya and koyomi talking away with the stable hand over a loaf of bread and some pieces of cheese.

slipping past the trio and out into the courtyard beyond reki doesn’t make a noise. he holds his breath all the way to the green house, and doesn’t let it out until he’s well into the tunnel behind it. some time ago a tunnel was dug in the large wall protecting the castle, the entrance was hidden by vines on both sides. the cave was known only to a select few.

as reki hurried through the cave he began to think back to some of his earlier suitors. he remembers his best friend who he could have seen himself marrying despite not being soulmates. but his friend got sick and went back to his kingdom and reki never heard from him again.

but tonight was about his soulmate. so reki trudged on, squinting for the cave opening.

before long the prince was stumbling out of the vines and onto the street. luckily it was mostly empty. empty except for a tall man with long pink hair and glasses.

at the sound of someone falling through the leaves he looked up but seemed shocked to see a teenager.

“your not kojiro.” the stranger blurted.

“and your not- actually i wasn’t waiting for anyone and i have no idea who you are...or who kojiro is.”

the man stared at reki for a minute before recognition flashed in his eyes.

“prince reki! what are you doing outside of the castle?”

“i um...well you see-“ but reki was cut off by a rustling behind the vines and a large figure falling out of said vines.

“kaoru you will never believe the day i had...” joe trailed off, eyes catching sight of a panicked reki and surprised kaoru.

“joe?” reki blurted at the same time joe said “reki?”

the two stared at each other before reki made a run for it.

but joe caught him by his hood so reki didn’t get far.

“kid what the hell are you doing here?” joe said apparently forgetting all formalities one should talk to their prince with.

“not of your business! and i could ask you the same!” reki yelled as he struggled to get free from joe’s grip.

“i’m meeting my soulmate. and i’m going to ask you again, what are you doing here?”

reki sagged, giving up the struggle. “same here,”

“you’re meeting your soulmate?” kaoru asked.

“yes, what about it?” reki said crossing his arms. it had all gone so good until now.

“aren’t you supposed to be in a arranged marriage?”

“yes so i’m going to meet my soulmate and apologize before agreeing to an arranged marriage.”

“what?” joe said, surprise causing him to loosen his grip. taking the chance reki dashed away. ignoring the yells behind him reki

kept on running. nothing can stop me now, reki thought, i’ve come this far.

eyeing his string, reki ran through the street watching it get tighter and tighter. reki was too focused on the string that he didn’t see the boy in front of himself until it was too late.

the boys slammed into each other hard, the medicinal products in the other boy’s hands clattering to the ground.

“oh shit sorry-“

“sorry-“

they both spoke at the same time causing the boys to look up at each other abruptly. the boy had bright blue hair that went down past his ears. he was tall and lanky, his skin almost as pale as snow. bright blue eyes that reki had sworn he had seen before. but when reki’s gaze meet the boys hands, his heart stopped. a thin red string connecting reki’s own finger to this mystery boy’s, hung in the air. a red string of fate; a soulmate string. this boy was his soulmate.

eyes snapping back to the bright blue ones reki knew his soulmate saw it too.

“well shit.” reki blurted and the boy began to laugh. it was a sweet noise, like the chime of heavenly bells. and so reki began to laugh too.

“well i guess your my soulmate. that makes this search a lot easier then.” standing up and reaching out a hand to his soulmate, reki began to speak. “so you probably know who i am and therefore i can’t marry you -or be with you quite frankly- and i’m very sorry for that and it’s selfish of me but i have the responsibility of the kingdom on my shoulders and i can’t fail my people.”

“what? ‘kingdom’? what are you talking about?” the boys blank stare bored into reki.

“...i’m the prince. and i’m going to be king someday. and as much i want to be with my soulmate -you-, i have to be responsible for my people -which includes you-.”

realization dawned on his face. “ooh, i see.”

“and honestly i don’t care about the difference of ‘rank’ between noble and townsfolk but other royalty do.”

“well my moms a doctor if that means anything.”

“a prominent roll indeed but unfortunately not enough for the in-law of a prince. well not in my eyes, but in the eyes of others.”

the boy hummed in though. “well she was the queen of the kingdom in the mountains before my father fell to illness and some corrupt politician overthrew her and had us banished. do that mean anything?”

“you- you mean you were a prince?”

the boy nods.

“oh my god. oh my god! this may just work then! i may be able to be with my soulmate and still have a marriage that pleases the royal court!” reki’s eyes light up in happiness. “that’s only if you do want to be with me i mean.” he added.

“well you’re my soulmate, are you not? so we’re meant to be together, no?”

“well yes of course. but i wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it and all...”

“of course reki.” the boy said sweetly while reaching out and clasping reki’s hands in his own.

reki almost melted at the use of his given name spoken by his soulmate.

“oh wait can i call you that? is that ok?”

all reki could do was dumbly nod.

“my names langa by the way.”

“langa,” reki said testing out the way the name felt on his tongue. “i like it!” he smiled and watched as langa’s face turned red.

“well should we head to the castle or something to relay the news?” langa asked, turning to reki.

“hmmm i think we can wait a minute. wanna show me around the town?”

“it would be my honor.”

and so the two boys disappeared into the lively bustle of the town as the laughed away and held each other’s hand like a lifeline.

~ ~ ~

@sk8-au-week

#sorry this is a day late tumblr was being a bitch and wouldn’t let me post it #sk8 the infinity #sk8 au week #toad talks #toad writes too #renga #matcha blossom

[matymatsu]

A Chance for Normalcy

Commission for my lovely friend monotcchi on twitter! Please check out their stuff, they’re a wonderfully talented artist and deserves so much love! 

Big shoutout as always to my friends who proof read the story. This one was a lot messier to fix up lol

Word: 2k+ Fandom: Yakuza Pairing: Kiryu x OC 

Congrats, Tsubomi-Chan. You’ve proven yourself to be a trusted member of this family.

Those words of pride and commendation were all Tsubomi wanted to hear since she was a little girl. All she wanted to do was make her family proud. However, that came at a cost. She did not realize what she had gotten herself into until it was too late. Being accepted by her family and seen as worthy of being part of the Yakuza patriarch… it all left a bad taste in her mouth.

Ever since the incident, she hadn’t been able to think straight. Her mind wandered; she wouldn’t pay attention in class. It had gotten to the point that her grades were suffering because of it. Her teachers began to confront her. “Asagiri-san! You’re usually such a good student, what’s happening to you?” They would tell her, following up with advice on how to study better. 

However, their words fell on deaf ears. Her grades weren’t the top priority, for once. Instead, it was her self-worth.

What was her role in the world? Was it truly to just be a weapon? A thing? Did her parents even care about her anymore? Did they ever care to begin with? These questions kept clouding her mind. 

As she walked out of school, she couldn’t help but stare at all her classmates. Watching the different friend groups as they socialized with bright, happy faces, chatting about all the different plans they had today. Her bitter expression was making her stick out like a sore thumb. 

The way home was even worse. The bright lights felt more like the glaring sun, and the sounds of the busy streets were ringing in her ears, giving her a pounding headache. As she looked around, watching and observing the people around her, something caught her eye.

It was an older couple with their child, a little girl. They were holding her hands, bouncing her up and down as she giggled. It was a heartwarming scene that you would see in a typical family photo, and it broke Tsubomi’s heart. Seeing that simple image made her feel something, an emotion she had never felt before— envy.

While some people had happy, fond memories about their childhood, Tsubomi did not. She was constantly reminded about the duties and responsibilities she had to uphold for the family name. Meanwhile, she would watch as other children her age would play and spend time with their loved ones. Whether it was a small date or an extended vacation, they were making wonderful memories. She craved a life like that, where she could be happy and not have to endure the pressure of her family’s expectations. She clutched her bag tightly. Her body quickly overtook her mind as she rushed off, her heart pounding in her ears.

The walk to the pier went by in a blur. Her mind had completely zoned out. As she walked across the wooden planks, her eyes wandered around. There wasn’t a soul in sight. She slid her shoes off, keeping them beside her as she stood on the edge. She opened her fist, letting the bag slip out of her hand. This is what needed to happen. If her parents, her family, the people she trusted— simply wanted to use her as collateral damage, then they had no right even to have a daughter. This was her only chance to free herself.

Her body froze. She couldn’t move a muscle. Was it fear? Maybe a little. However, she couldn’t live like this anymore; she didn’t want to live like this. She closed her eyes and relaxed her body. Her mind began to take over as she slowly lifted her foot off the edge.

Jump, jump, jump, jump, jump, JUMP—!

“Hey!”

A loud voice snapped her out of the trance. She thought she was alone! Well, she had hoped she was. Her gaze went right, towards the sound. There he stood, a young teenage boy, looked to be about the same age as her. He didn’t give off the threatening aura as his voice did; if anything, he seemed concerned.

Tsubomi simply stared at him. She couldn’t help but be annoyed. The last thing she needed was a witness. She huffed, slipping her shoes back on. Another day, perhaps…?

The boy kept watching her like a hawk, his eyes scanning her for any sudden movements. It only made her more uncomfortable. She didn’t want to say anything, but at this point, she felt compelled to. “What?”

She watched him tense up a little. “Sorry… it looked like you were about to do something foolish.” He said. Was it foolish? Perhaps. Why wouldn’t you want to live the rest of your life being used as a fucking attack dog? Then again, he didn’t know that. How would he? She wasn’t planning to let him find out either. “I guess.” She replied with a bitter tone. Her hand trembled as she picked up her bag. The sudden wave of emotion snuck up on her as she felt a soft pain in her chest. She took a deep breath. She didn’t want to start crying, and in front of a stranger no less. She was too wrapped up in collecting herself. She didn’t pay any mind as the boy walked up to her, closing the gap between them. 

“Do you need help?”

“Huh?” For a moment, she didn’t even register the question. This was the first time someone offered to help her. Usually, it was the other way around. “N… no! It’s nothing. Just… home stuff.” She replied, forcing the words out of her throat as she shook her head. “Hmm… I understand.”

She watched as the boy sat down on the wooden pier. He looked up at her, his hand patting the spot next to him. She pondered for a moment, should she sit with him? For all she knew, he could just be using her to kill time, not caring about what she may be going through. Then again, she didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to face her family, especially not in this mental state. 

She took the seat next to him, sliding her shoes off and placing them next to her. She gripped the wood below her, staring out across the water. The sun was just setting. Its glow looked gorgeous as it reflected against the clear ocean. However, it wasn’t enough to distract Tsubomi from the racing thoughts clouding her mind. She glanced over to the boy beside her, unsure if she should speak or just remain silent. “Hey, Uh—”

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” He said, cutting her off. “I figured it wouldn’t be right, leaving you alone like this.”

She couldn’t help but smile. She was pleasantly surprised by the kind words. “Thanks…”

The silence came as quickly as it left. Tsubomi glanced over, studying the boy’s face. She could have sworn she had seen him before, most likely at school. She was blanking on a potential name. As far as she could remember, she didn’t share any classes with him. “Umm…”

It was hard to speak all of a sudden, especially once their eyes met. She was usually decent at talking to people, but now, she felt anxious. “I’m sorry… what’s your name? I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

“Kiryu Kazuma.” He answered. “We go to the same school together.”

Good to know I haven’t gone completely nuts, she thought. “Asagiri Tsubomi.” She introduced herself, almost mumbling it. She felt it was only polite to give her name as well. Kiryu smiled, easing away her tension. “Nice to meet you.” He said. “You too.”

It became quiet yet again. It was almost comedic. Tsubomi wasn’t too sure what to do. She was curious about the boy who, unknowingly, saved her from her own destruction. It seemed unwise, but she wanted to know more about him. “Do you… come to the pier often?” She asked, leaving a small pause in the middle of her sentence. She was surprised she managed to form one at all, considering her mind was giving her a million suggestions at a time.

“Kind of.” He started, his voice held a sense of awkwardness. “My friend Nishiki and I used to come here during junior high. It’s been a while.” He added. She simply nodded, her eyes drifting towards the water to see a few fish, just below the surface. Kiryu opened up his bag and pulled out a small loaf of bread, wrapped in plastic. He pulled off the wrapping and ripped up the dough, throwing it in the ocean. They both watched as the fish ate each piece, bobbing up to the surface, fighting over the food. “What about you?” He asked. Tsubomi shook her head, staring at the fish, watching as they swam away. “I didn’t know this place existed.” She replied. She never took scenic routes on her way home. She wished she did, though. The ocean breeze, watching the waves roll by. It was relaxing. She suddenly felt something drop on her lap. She looked down, seeing a small bag of bread. “You look hungry.”

As if to confirm it, Tsubomi’s stomach let out a loud growl, causing the two of them to snicker. Biting into the bread, she let out a hushed, pleased hum. It was good! She felt kind of guilty, eating in front of him. She tugged off a significant portion, holding it in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, looking over, clearly confused. “You look hungry too.”

“Heh… thanks.” He smiled, taking the bread and popping it into his mouth. The two ate together in silence, which she honestly didn’t mind anymore. She hadn’t felt this content in a long time. 

She suddenly had a sick feeling in her gut as she swallowed. The slowly setting sun had finally hit her. She didn’t want to check her watch; she knew it was getting late. She didn’t want to leave, but it was naive to believe she could just sit here forever. As soon as she finished eating, she stuffed the wrapping in her bag and stood up. “I should get going.” She said, grabbing her stuff as she made her way off the pier. “Wait!”

She paused, looking back at Kiryu. “Come back tomorrow. We can hang out again. I… if you want.” His voice quivered when he uttered the last part. She blinked. To be honest, she wasn’t expecting that. No one has ever asked her out like this before. Then again, she’s never really bonded with anyone either, not until today. She nodded.

“See you tomorrow.” She waved. As she walked off, she could hear his soft voice. “See ya…”

On her way home, her mind raced, still processing what had happened. She was a bit disappointed in herself, not being able to go through with her original plan. Then again, she could always do it tomorrow—

No…! No, she couldn’t! Kiryu wanted to hang out again tomorrow, and she couldn't let him down. That thought alone made her stop dead in her tracks. She barely knew him… why the hell would she care about disappointing him or not? She knew the reason; she just didn’t want to admit it.

She may have found a friend. That boy, someone she barely knew, came to her aid. He didn’t go out of his way to try and fix all her problems or get inside her head. He simply offered her company— which is more than anything anyone else—  including her parents, had done. From that conversation alone, she could see how kind and caring he truly was. Sitting on that pier, chatting with Kiryu, the plans to do it all over again. She wanted that every day. 

She wanted to live a life outside of the Yakuza, outside of her family’s legacy. She wanted to be normal. Honestly, it sounded like an impossible dream, something she could probably never achieve. However, Kiryu showed her that there is a life of normalcy. It was just out of her reach, and she could grab it if she tried. And that’s precisely what she was going to do.

#I know very little about Yakuza apart from the few bits i've seen from what my friends played #so sorry if this is an annoying read LOL #Yakuza #Kiryu Kazuma #Kazuma Kiryu #OC #original character #Yakuza OC #Kiryu x oc #Kiryu Kazuma x oc #Commission #My Writing #Writing Commission