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random-writing-panda · 11 months

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||•~Old Flames Part 3~•||

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x reader

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, harassment

Word count: 2.1k

Part 1, Part 2

It’s here part 3! I’ve been so busy with work this week I am absolutely exhausted! I'm so sorry for the wait on this one! I am trying to train myself to find writing a relaxing/de-stress task but I’m not quite there yet so its still taking a bit to get motivated to write. Thank you all so so much for the support and love I’m so excited and happy that people are enjoying my writing. Thank you to all the people who asked to be tagged!

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After your argument with Red Hood you start avoiding Jason like the plague and during this time you get closer with the mysterious stranger at work. Will Jason try to win you back or lose you forever?

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You had been miserable the last week. You were second guessing every decision you had made, had you over reacted? Maybe he would have told you eventually? No, he should have told you as soon as he found you. You couldn’t back down now. If he wanted you in his life he could come back on his hands and knees with some answers, any answers really.

The turmoil inside you was showing on your body in very noticeable ways, dark circles framed your eyes from restless nights, you hadn’t been eating well and your skin looked dull. You truly couldn’t care less about what you looked like you were trying to stay calm over the fact that you had just sent your best friend away, potentially forever, because of a moment of anger, you had to keep reminding yourself you deserved better than his lies, it didn’t make it any easier.

Work was surprisingly the only thing getting you through, at least here you could keep busy, chit chat with the old ladies that came in for their tea and coffee, you could ignore the stabbing feeling in your heart for the hours you were running around the store.

“Well, you look just about as crappy as I feel.” You look up from the benchtop you were wiping down and saw the handsome man from a few weeks ago, you recognised the same gorgeous green eyes, he was right, they looked as tired as yours did.

“Having a rough week?” You let out a small chuckle at his exasperated sigh.

“You have no idea.” He stepped up to the bench leaning against it with his hip.

“Same as last time?”

This made him smile and there was a glint of mischief in his tired eyes, “You remember my order? Already?” He nods, confirmation of his order.

“You are a memorable person.” You shrugged and started brewing his coffee. “You know you still haven’t given me your name, I feel like I’m at a disadvantage!” you teased as your hand moved over your name tag.

“I don’t need that to remember your name darling, you’re quite memorable yourself. Plus, no Name just adds to my mysterious charm don’t you think?”

“Cute.” You look at him with one eyebrow raised. “But a name would be helpful, what am I supposed to put on the cup?” you joke with him almost effortlessly it felt like talking with an old friend it felt natural. It felt right.

“Fine if you need a name so bad,” he smirks, “its Ronaldo Fitzgerald”.

You roll your eyes and turn the cup to him, “Don’t know if that will fit on the cup.”

“mm” He hums in agreement nodding his head, “Well if you want a different name, you could go on a date with me some time.”

Your eyebrows raise and your lip’s part slightly, suddenly your mouth feels a little dry. You ponder his request for a moment, he was attractive enough, from the interactions you’ve had you seemed to get along pretty well. But it was still Gotham, you had to be careful. “Well, my shift finishes in a few minutes, if you stick around we can have some drinks and a little food?” you looked over to the wall, it truly had been great timing, five minutes left.

He smiled, a genuine smile, not a half smile, not his smirk, just a smile. “That sounds perfect darling, I’ll go take a seat.”

He walked over to a table while you had a quick chat with your coworker who was taking over. You quickly pack your belongings into your bag and make your way over to the table.

“I believe you owe me a name Mr..?”

“Oh, but does this count as a date?”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“This is more like two friends having afternoon tea, not really romantic.”

“Is this you asking for a second date? Already? Better be careful, might start thinking you like me.” You laugh a little as your coworker places your favourite drink down on the table and you nod and thank them.

“of course, I like you.”

That took you by shock. “Why? You don’t even know me yet.”

“Well, I like what I’ve seen so far, and I’m sure I will like everything else.” There was such sincerity in his eyes it made your heart flutter ever so slightly.

“You said that I look as bad as you feel, what’s happening in your life Mr mysterious?”

He leant back in the chair his arms up resting his head back into his knotted hands. “I kinda did something stupid and really upset a friend of mine…” his tone had an amused cadence to it but his physicality showed something closer to embarrassment, his relaxed posture turning ridged and a slight blush creeping onto his face, his eyes were glued to the ground.

“How badly did you fuck up?” you were curious, intrigued by how similar your situations had turned out to be, sipping your drink you watch him lift his head and press his lips together as they formed a thin line, and he almost pouted at you, he looked like a child being scolded.

“Pretty bad…I think I might have ruined our friendship.” He looked back down to the floor, and you watch him sigh deeply, “It was so stupid too I don’t know why I didn’t just talk to them…”

“Well how long have you been friends?”

“Ah-…that’s…also complicated.” He grimaced.

“You seem like a very complicated man.” A small chuckle escapes you.

“You have no idea. Anyhow, we were friends, honestly more like family since we were little kids but when I got a bit older things got…”

“Complicated?”

You see his body jerk a little and hear a quick exhale as he tried not to laugh. “Yeah, we ended up getting closer again but then I did this stupid thing and I think I lost them…”

“Well, I don’t know what you did but if I were the friend id just want you to apologise and explain the situation.” Were you projecting? Maybe? Was it still good advice? You hoped so.

He ran his finger across the back of his neck and rubbed at it sheepishly. “Yeah, I just haven’t had the guts to face them yet, they were always pretty scary.”

This made you laugh; a full-blown belly laugh that shook your entire body, the man in front of you looked like a body builder, was six feet tall, and was decked out in a leather jacket, everything about him screamed intimidating but here he sat scared to face his friend. You felt a little bad laughing at his expense, but it was all too adorable not too. After a few moments you hear his light chuckles.

“Yeah, I suppose it sounds a little silly.”

“No, no I’m sorry, it’s just, you,” You waved your hands in front of you gesturing at his entire body. “Being scared of someone is hard to imagine. In all seriousness though you should just go talk to them, the longer you wait the worse it will be.”

“Yeah, I know you’re right. Ill talk to them.” He looked at you with those eyes, those gorgeous eyes that reminded you of some lost fondness like remembering a childhood pet, and they were filled with determination.

The two of you spent the better part of an hour chatting before exchanging numbers and parting ways, you were so glad you accepted his offer it was the best date you had been on in a long time. As you looked down at your phone now holding his contact information you realised, he still hadn’t given you his name.

∞∞

After listening about how you mystery man was going to fix his issues with his friend you felt a heaviness overcome you, there were so many emotions mixed inside you, you felt as though you could drown in them, you were angry that he was going to fix his situation but Jason couldn’t come fix yours, you felt so much guilt about being angry but more than anything you were still just sad, you missed Jason perhaps more than when you thought he was dead.

You had to do something to distract yourself, so you made your way to your favourite bar. You are about five drinks in when the bartender pipes up starting to chat with you.

“Anymore and you might drown.” He teased.

“Thatss the point!” you hadn’t realised how tipsy you were getting but your slurred words gave you some clarity, part of you knew you should stop, leave and go back to home to sleep off the emotions but the other part of you won, the part that was filled with emotions and tears and Jason, the part of you that you wanted to drown out.

“Drinking your problems won’t fix em’”.

“No but it’ll make me forget them!” you happily chirped as you took another drink.

The bartender sighed and walked away. You sat at the bar and continued nursing drinks for a few hours and as you walked out of the bar you cursed yourself out, it was hard for you to walk straight and it felt like the sidewalk was spinning like a carousel, you placed a palm on the building next to you and dragged you hand over the cool bricks and cement trying to steady yourself.

You only make it a few blocks when you hear whistles and footsteps, a group of men cross the street, their eyes set on you, you beg your brain to move your feet faster and they do but in your intoxicated state you end up stumbling over your own feet.

“Hey sweetheart what’s a pretty girl like you doin’ out so late?” one of the men shout from behind you and you can hear the others snickering.

You push yourself off the wall and start walking again, the throbbing in your temples was not helping you see straight.

“Hey! it’s not nice to ignore people little lady!” one of the men grabs you shoulder spinning you around to face them.

“I’m..jusst trying to go…home..” you stutter out and try to pull away.

“Why go home when you can have some fun with us darling?” the look on his face was downright malicious.

“Don’t call me that! jusst want to go home…please leave.” You were scared now the throbbing had turned to pounding now and there was so much pressure on your brain you thought your head might explode, this wasn’t safe but there was no way for you to get away from this.

“The lady wants to go home so why don’t you unhand her?” a new voice chimed in, it was one you recognised and as the group of men turned you saw the mystery man from the café, your date.

“How about you keep moving and mind your business, man.” One of the men stepped towards him, ready to, wanting to fight.

“Oh, you really don’t want to do that.” you café date was smirking as he shifted his stance ready to fight.

Before you knew it punches were being thrown and you were tossed to the floor by the man holding you, it didn’t help with the spinning. It was hard for you to focus on the fight all you knew was that the was a lot of cursing and groans, you catch glimpses through you spinning vision and it looks like the group of men were losing, it was incredible, a few were on the floor covered in blood and you watched as your date landed a hit right into one mans jaw, you swear you heard a crunch of broken bones. After an agonising few minutes your date was the last one standing, they had gotten a few hits in, his busted lip and bruises were already prominent as he walked over to you.

“What are you doing here…?” you slurred out as he pulled you up into his arms. “Stalking me…”

“More like saving you.” He softly grabbed you chin and moved you face left and right checking for any injuries. “Did they hurt you?”

You shake your head before you realised how bad of a decision that was the movement sends the world spinning again and you rest your forehead on his chest groaning loudly.

“Okay come on Darling lets get you home, where do you live?” when you didn’t respond he looked down and saw your closed eyes. “Oh god seriously? Fuck, fine come on then.” He groans and pulls you up into his arms as he carries you down the streets one of his arms wrapped around your back and the other tucked under your knees as he pulled you close to his chest.

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Tag list:

General tag list~ @jasontoddslover

Old Flames tag list~ @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @princessbl0ss0m @batmanunicorns523

#batfam #batfam imagine #batman #batfam fic #batman fic #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood

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reanimatedcourier · 4 years

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How to Write Indigenous Characters Without Looking like a Jackass:

Update as of December 26th, 2020: I have added a couple new sections about naming and legal terms, as well as a bit of reading on the Cherokee Princess phenomenon.

Boozhoo (hello) Fallout fandom! I'm a card-carrying Anishinaabe delivering this rough guide about writing Indigenous characters because wow, do I see a lot of shit.

Let's get something out of the way first: Fallout's portrayal of Indigenous people is racist. From a vague definition of "tribal" to the claims of them being "savage" and "uncivilized" mirror real-world stereotypes used to dehumanize us. Fallout New Vegas' narrated intro has Ron Perlman saying Mr. House "rehabilitated" tribals to create New Vegas' Three Families. You know. Rehabilitate. As if we are animals. Top it off with an erasure of Indigenous people in the American Southwest and no real tribe names, and you've got some pretty shitty representation. The absence of Native American as a race option in the GECK isn't too great, given that two Native characters are marked "Caucasian" despite being brown. Butch Deloria is a pretty well-known example of this effect. (Addendum: Indigenous people can have any mix of dominant and recessive traits, as well as present different phenotypes. What bothers me is it doesn't accommodate us or mixed people, which is another post entirely.)

As a precautionary warning: this post and the sources linked will discuss racism and genocide. There will also be discussion of multiple kinds of abuse.

Now, your best approach will be to pick a nation or tribe and research them. However, what follows will be general references.

Terms that may come up in your research include Aboriginal/Native Canadian, American Indian/Native American, Inuit, Métis, and Mestizo. The latter two refer to cultural groups created after the discovery of the so-called New World. (Addendum made September 5th, 2020: Mestizo has negative connotations and originally meant "half breed" so stick with referring to your mixed Latine and Indigenous characters as mixed Indigenous or simply by the name of their people [Maya, Nahua].)

As a note, not every mixed person is Métis or Mestizo. If you are, say, Serbian and Anishinaabe, you would be mixed, but not Métis (the big M is important here, as it refers to a specific culture). Even the most liberal definition caps off at French and British ancestry alongside Indigenous (some say Scottish and English). Mestizo works the same, since it refers to descendants of Spanish conquistadors/settlers and Indigenous people.

Trouble figuring out whose land is where? No problem, check out this map.

Drawing

Don't draw us with red skin. It's offensive and stereotypical.

Tutorial for Native Skintones

Tutorial for Mixed Native Skintones

Why Many Natives Have Long Hair (this would technically fit better under another category, but give your Native men long hair!)

If You're Including Traditional Wear, Research! It's Out There

Languages

Remember, there are a variety of languages spoken by Indigenous people today. No two tribes will speak the same language, though there are some that are close and may have loan words from each other (Cree and Anishinaabemowin come to mind). Make sure your Diné (you may know them as Navajo) character doesn't start dropping Cree words.

Here's a Site With a Map and Voice Clips

Here's an Extensive List of Amerindian Languages

Keep in mind there are some sounds that have no direct English equivalents. But while we're at it, remember a lot of us speak English, French, Spanish, or Portuguese. The languages of the countries that colonized us.

Words in Amerindian languages tend to be longer than English ones and are in the format of prefix + verb + suffix to get concepts across. Gaawiin miskwaasinoon is a complete sentence in Anishinaabemowin, for example (it is not red).

Names

Surprisingly, we don't have names like Passing Dawn or Two-Bears-High-Fiving in real life. A lot of us have, for lack of better phrasing, white people names. We may have family traditions of passing a name down from generation to generation (I am the fourth person in my maternal line to have my middle name), but not everyone is going to do that. If you do opt for a name from a specific tribe, make sure you haven't chosen a last name from another tribe.

Baby name sites aren't reliable, because most of the names on there will be made up by people who aren't Indigenous. That site does list some notable exceptions and debunks misconceptions.

Here's a list of last names from the American census.

Indian Names

You may also hear "spirit names" because that's what they are for. You know the sort of mystical nature-related name getting slapped on an Indigenous character? Let's dive into that for a moment.

The concept of a spirit name seems to have gotten mistranslated at some point in time. It is the name Creator calls you throughout all your time both here and in the spirit world. These names are given (note the word usage) to you in a ceremony performed by an elder. This is not done lightly.

A lot of imitations of this end up sounding strange because they don't follow traditional guidelines. (I realize this has spread out of the original circle, but Fallout fans may recall other characters in Honest Hearts and mods that do this. They have really weird and racist results.)

If you're not Indigenous: don't try this. You will be wrong.

Legal Terms

Now, sometimes the legal term (or terms) for a tribe may not be what they refer to themselves as. A really great example of this would be the Oceti Sakowin and "Sioux". How did that happen, you might be wondering. Smoky Mountain News has an article about this word and others, including the history of these terms.

For the most accurate information, you are best off having your character refer to themselves by the name their nation uses outside of legislation. A band name would be pretty good for this (Oglala Lakota, for example). I personally refer to myself by my band.

Cowboys

And something the Fallout New Vegas fans might be interested in, cowboys! Here's a link to a post with several books about Black and Indigenous cowboys in the Wild West.

Representation: Stereotypes and Critical Thought

Now, you'll need to think critically about why you want to write your Indigenous character a certain way. Here is a comprehensive post about stereotypes versus nuance.

Familiarize yourself with tropes. The Magical Indian is a pretty prominent one, with lots of shaman-type characters in movies and television shows. This post touches on its sister tropes (The Magical Asian and The Magical Negro), but is primarily about the latter.

Say you want to write an Indigenous woman. Awesome! Characters I love to see. Just make sure you're aware of the stereotypes surrounding her and other Women of Color.

Word to the wise: do not make your Indigenous character an alcoholic. "What, so they can't even drink?" You might be asking. That is not what I'm saying. There is a pervasive stereotype about Drunk Indians, painting a reaction to trauma as an inherent genetic failing, as stated in this piece about Indigenous social worker Jessica Elm's research. The same goes for drugs. Ellen Deloria is an example of this stereotype.

Familiarize yourself with and avoid the Noble Savage trope. This was used to dehumanize us and paint us as "childlike" for the sake of a plot device. It unfortunately persists today.

Casinos are one of the few ways for tribes to make money so they can build homes and maintain roads. However, some are planning on diversifying into other business ventures.

There's a stereotype where we all live off government handouts. Buddy, some of these long-term boil water advisories have been in place for over twenty years. The funding allocated to us as a percentage is 0.39%: less than half a percent to fight the coronavirus. They don't give us money.

"But what about people claiming to be descended from a Cherokee princess?" Cherokee don't and never had anything resembling princesses. White southerners made that up prior to the Civil War. As the article mentions, they fancied themselves "defending their lands as the Indians did".

Also, don't make your Indigenous character a cannibal. Cannibalism is a serious taboo in a lot of our cultures, particularly northern ones.

Our lands are not cursed. We don't have a litany of curses to cast on white people in found footage films. Seriously. We have better things to be doing. Why on earth would our ancestors be haunting you when they could be with their families? Very egotistical assumption.

Indigenous Ties and Blood Quantum

Blood quantum is a colonial system that was initially designed to "breed out the Indian" in people. To dilute our bloodlines until we assimilated properly into white society. NPR has an article on it here.

However, this isn't how a vast majority of us define our identities. What makes us Indigenous is our connections (or reconnection) to our families, tribes, bands, clans, and communities.

Blood quantum has also historically been used to exclude Black Natives from tribal enrollment, given that it was first based on appearance. So, if you looked Black and not the image of "Indian" the white census taker had in his brain, you were excluded and so were your descendants.

Here are two tumblrs that talk about Black Indigenous issues and their perspectives. They also talk about Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people of Australia.

However, if you aren't Indigenous, don't bring up blood quantum. Don't. This is an issue you should not be speaking about.

Cherokee Princess Myth

"Princess" was not a real position in any tribe. The European idea of monarchy did not suddenly manifest somewhere else. The closest probable approximation may have been the daughter of a chief or other politically prominent person. But princess? No.

Here is an article talking about possible origins of this myth. Several things are of note here: women from other tribes may have bee shoved under this label and the idea of a "Cherokee Princess" had been brought up to explain the sudden appearance of a brown-skinned (read: half Black) family member.

For a somewhat more in depth discussion of why, specifically, this myth gets touted around so often, Timeline has this piece.

Religion

Our religions are closed. We are not going to tell you how we worship. Mostly because every little bit we choose to share gets appropriated. Smudging is the most recent example. If you aren't Indigenous, that's smoke cleansing. Smudging is done in a specific way with ceremonies and prayers.

Now, a lot of us were forcibly converted. Every residential school was run by Christians. So plenty of us are Catholic, Baptist, Anglican, Lutheran, etc. Catholicism in Latin America also has influence from the Indigenous religions in that region.

Having your Indigenous character pray or carry rosaries wouldn't be a bad thing, if that religion was important to them. Even if they are atheist, if they lived outside of a reserve or other Indigenous communities, they might have Christian influences due to its domination of the Western world.

Settler Colonialism and the White Savior Trope

Now we've come to our most painful section yet. Fallout unintentionally has an excellent agent of settler-colonialism, in particular the Western Christian European variety, in Caesar's Legion and Joshua Graham.

(Addendum: Honest Hearts is extremely offensive in its portrayal of Indigenous people, and egregiously shows a white man needing to "civilize" tribals and having to teach them basic skills. These skills include cooking, finding safe water, and defending themselves from other tribes.)

Before we dive in, here is a post explaining the concept of cultural Christianity, if you are unfamiliar with it.

We also need to familiarize ourselves with The White Man's Burden. While the poem was written regarding the American-Philippine war, it still captures the attitudes toward Indigenous folks all over the world at the time.

As this article in Teen Vogue points out, white people like to believe they need to save People of Color. You don't need to. People of Color can save themselves.

Now, cultural Christianity isn't alone on this side of the pond. Writer Teju Cole authored a piece on the White Savior Industrial Complex to describe mission trips undertaken by white missionaries to Africa to feed their egos.

Colonialism has always been about the acquisition of wealth. To share a quote from this paper about the ongoing genocide of Indigenous peoples: "Negatively, [settler colonialism] strives for the dissolution of native societies. Positively, it erects a new colonial society on the expropriated land base—as I put it, settler colonizers come to stay: invasion is a structure not an event. In its positive aspect, elimination is an organizing principal of settler-colonial society rather than a one-off (and superseded) occurrence. The positive outcomes of the logic of elimination can include officially encouraged miscegenation, the breaking-down of native title into alienable individual freeholds, native citizenship, child abduction, religious conversion, resocialization in total institutions such as missions or boarding schools, and a whole range of cognate biocultural assimilations. All these strategies, including frontier homicide, are characteristic of settler colonialism. Some of them are more controversial in genocide studies than others." (Positive, here, is referring to "benefits" for the colonizers. Indigenous people don't consider colonization beneficial.)

An example of a non-benefit, the Church Rock disaster had Diné children playing in radioactive water so the company involved could avoid bad publicity.

Moving on, don't sterilize your Indigenous people. Sterilization, particularly when it is done without consent, has long been used as a tool by the white system to prevent "undesirables" (read, People of Color and disabled people) from having children. Somehow, as of 2018, it wasn't officially considered a crime.

The goal of colonization was to eliminate us entirely. Millions died because of exposure to European diseases. Settlers used to and still do separate our children from us for reasons so small as having a dirty dish in the sink. You read that right, a single dirty dish in your kitchen sink was enough to get your children taken and adopted out to white families. This information was told to me by an Indigenous social work student whose name I will keep anonymous.

It wasn't until recently they made amendments to the Indian Act that wouldn't automatically render Indigenous women non-status if they married someone not Indigenous. It also took much too long for Indigenous families to take priority in child placement over white ones. Canada used to adopt Indigenous out to white American families. The source for that statement is further down, but adoption has been used as a tool to destroy cultures.

I am also begging you to cast aside whatever colonialist systems have told you about us. We are alive. People with a past, not people of the past, which was wonderfully said here by Frank Waln.

Topics to Avoid if You Aren't Indigenous

Child Separation. Just don't. We deserve to remain with our families and our communities. Let us stay together and be happy that way.

Assimilation schools. Do not bring up a tool for cultural genocide that has left lasting trauma in our communities.

W/ndigos. I don't care that they're in Fallout 76. They shouldn't be. Besides, you never get them right anyway.

Sk/nwalkers. Absolutely do not. Diné stories are not your playthings either.

I've already talked about drugs and alcohol. Do your research with compassion and empathy in mind. Indigenous people have a lot of pain and generational trauma. You will need to be extremely careful having your Indigenous characters use drugs and alcohol. If your character can be reduced to their (possible) substance abuse issues, you need to step back and rework it. As mentioned in Jessica Elm's research, remember that it isn't inherent to us.

For our final note: remember that we're complex, autonomous human beings. Don't use our deaths to further the stories of your white characters. Don't reduce us to some childlike thing that needs to be raised and civilized by white characters. We interact with society a little differently than you do, but we interact nonetheless.

Meegwetch (thank you) for reading! Remember to do your research and portray us well, but also back off when you are told by an Indigenous person.

This may be updated in the future, it depends on what information I come across or, if other Indigenous people are so inclined, what is added to this post.

#fallout 3 #fallout 4 #fallout 76 #fallout new vegas #fallout 1 #fallout 2 #fallout: new vegas #ozhibii'ige

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lunaastoir · 3 years

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fluff/relationships w the mondstadt crew

characters included: diluc, kaeya, and jean

gn! reader as always <3

tw: fluff??? domesticity??? crack??? ideal relationships w people who will never be real??? also mentions of alcohol!

an: so i’m back w a sequel to my “fluff/relationships w the liyue crew�� since you guys seemed to really like it <3 thank you my heart is literally melting 😩 this post was getting too long so i excluded some of the characters but expect a part. 2 (more like part 3 but part 2 to the mondstadt version)!

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diluc

man. this MAN.

that’s it, that’s the headcanon.

he would literally be the most doting lover in the softest ways

SUCH a soft romantic like you thought you knew love??? nah this man will show you what love is

will constantly leave you things around the winery to convey his silent thank you’s and appreciation for you putting up with him being busy for most of the day

it’s always the most thoughtful things ever too like-

you mentioned how nice it would be to have some fresh lemonade with the hotter weather outside but it was too late in the day to actually go to the market in search of fresh lemons

the next day you walked downstairs only to be greeted with a pitcher of cool lemonade with a side of lemon bars

there was a note attached to the handle of the pitcher <3

“i recall you mentioning how lemonade would be perfect for the warmer weather so i decided to make some for you this morning. i hope it’s still cool by the time you drink it. love, d”

pls sir your hand in marriage

he secretly loves it when you usher him to bed after waking up in the dead of night to see him working by candlelight on reports

soft hands on his cheeks gently whispering about how, it’s been far too long and come to bed, darling and there will be time for this in the morning

his protests are light given the dark purple hues under his crimson eyes but he’ll still make a little fuss

don’t let this man fool you tho he’s so so touched that you care enough to check up on him and drag him to bed!!

sometimes on the days he has a bit more free time, the two of you will quickly grab your dinners and race to the highest spot in the winery to watch the setting sun

these moments are always filled with laughter, something you’ve found you’re easily able to pull out of diluc, simply because it’s you

uncontrollable sobbing

he would let you paint his nails black like the angsty man he is

frankly he would let you do anything to him if it makes you happy <3

ok but wait diluc w bLACK NAILS?? AND RINGS??? i would die on the spot ⚰️

on the topic of makeup, this man is surprisingly really good w it

i like to think he learned after practicing on kaeya when they were younger bc kaeya was really into makeup

you found out after babysitting klee one day and trying failing to draw eyeliner on the sweet girl after her “big brother ‘bedo!”

you hastily grabbed some wipes, gently wiping off the messed up design before attempting to dive back in

diluc however, had some down time so he decided to check up on his favorite chaotic duo

only to be met with a pile of dirtied makeup wipes, your frustrated expression, and klee’s growing jitteriness

swiftly moving to your side, he quietly asked if you needed help

you glanced up quizzically before handing him the eyeliner, already looking around to find more makeup wipes when this inevitably goes wrong

to your utter surprise tho the eyeliner is perfect??? two perfect winged lines??? in less than a minute??? WHAT

you just stood there like 😦 before diluc got back up and handed you the eyeliner

you were short-circuiting, klee was ecstatic, diluc was worried about you

ok last thing abt diluc

crack! warning but the both of you like lowkey pranking kaeya

for diluc it’s revenge on his annoying brother; for you it’s good - natured sibling rivalry fun

every time the two of you see kaeya, one of you always swipes something of his

small things really, it could be a pen or a handkerchief

one time, diluc swiped kaeya’s spare eyepatch and from the looks of it, kaeya’s only spare black eyepatch bc he was frantically looking for it yk he’s desperate when he even asked diluc if he saw it

the two of you spent an hour nearly laughing your asses off

all in all, life w him is so sweet

kaeya

pretty boy? pretty boy.

while i can’t guarantee stability, life would never be boring w this man that’s for sure

piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides

he LOVES it, the feel of you on his back while he’s walking around mondstadt most likely carrying you to your commission

he finds it comforting especially since he can hear the rumble of your voice against him while you recount stories, or just babble on about everything under the sun

he is SO dramatic so obviously when y’all reach the site of the commission he has to kill all the monsters even tho the both of you agreed to split it up evenly

he makes quick work of his set before stealing some of yours much to your chagrin

you scold him but can you really be mad at him when he looks drop dead gorgeous freezing the hilichurls the answer is no, no you cannot be

oh my god ok wait-

he does this thing where he tries to spook you in public

so say you’re getting groceries at the mondstadt general store

you round the corner just minding your own business, looking around, taking in the sunshine

and suddenly you just hear someone drop in behind you but before you can register anything you hear a soft “boo” and hands circle your waist

you jump SIKE let’s be honest you shrieked

meanwhile kaeya’s just laughing his ass off

you can hear his rich peals of laughter while you attempt to regain your bearings

he does this so often you SHOULD be used to it but you really aren’t bc mans is SNEAKY-

he cards his fingers in your hair whenever you’re speaking

he doesn’t know why, it’s just a cute habit and he finds the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing

oH on the topic of comfort, kaeya really likes resting two fingers on the back of your neck???

ik he seems like the type to throw his arm around your shoulder which yes he totally is but during more serious conversations his hand automatically seeks out the warmth of your neck

your neck feels amazing especially during the warmer months due to his chilly fingers contrasting with your warm skin

he likes that he’s able to access such a vulnerable part of you and you would willingly let him

HE GETS YOU MATCHING OUTFITS

no i will NOT take criticism on this i just kNOW he’s that type of guy

it would be those stupid “i’m his” and “they’re mine” sweatshirts like BYE

it’s so cringy but for some reason it’s oddly adorable and you truly despise it but you can’t seem to say no whenever he asks

you pretend to ignore the look of pity diluc throws your way whenever he sees you like this

kaeya really loves accessories so i think he would be the type to give you a promise ring or something similar to show that he truly does care for you

he would brush it off, flirting a little like usual before handing you the ring

with the way his cheeks softly darken though, you know he’s being genuine

TICKLE FIGHTS ik i mentioned this for childe but shhhh

he has tickle fingers??? his hands just loOK like they’re itching to tickle someone so you’ll most likely be the unfortunate victim

he will not show you mercy. at all. he’ll tickle you until there are tears streaming from your eyes, your face is hot, and your voice is hoarse from laughing so damn hard

it gives him such a rush of serotonin its SO CUTE

i feel like this goes without saying but he’s super into pda,,, anything and everything is on the table

hand holding? duh. ass grabs? ofc. carrying you bridal style around mondstadt? why not

ik he’s typically very playful but once the relationship reaches a certain stage, he’ll slowly start to let down the walls that surround his facade

very very slowly show you the more realistic parts of him

the real, damaged pieces of his soul

he’ll be carefully monitoring your reaction though, any sign of fear or disgust will have him recoiling within himself again and you most likely will never see his true nature ever again

SO BE CAREFUL 👹

once you’ve seen the parts of him he’s offered to you, the hushed whispers of his past, and the uncertain lines of his future, he will take off his eyepatch

pretends like he’s not super nervous but he’s SWEATING-

the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen though hands down

you can understand why he covers it up but you would like it if he felt comfortable enough to take off the eyepatch occasionally when he’s with you

also!!! sleeps with his eyepatch side facing you (in the event he wears it to bed)

if this happens you KNOW he trusts you bc it’s his blindside <3

anyways life w kaeya will never be boring but he is a very complicated man

stay with him though, i promise it’ll be worth it

jean

the key to jean’s heart is coffee and food

GET HER COFFEE AND FOOD

i am begging you she deserves it 😭

the poor woman works so hard bc the knights are so mf understaffed, this is literally the best way you can ever show her your love and appreciation when she has work

she will MELT if you have a hot shower and dinner waiting for her when she inevitably returns later than she promised

will completely refuse at first with, “you did not have to do this, it’s too much” but shush her as you shOULD bc she deserves the entire world

she’s the definition of “you do something for me, i’ll return the favor ten times grander”

you leave a flower on her desk bc it reminded you of her??? you’ll wake up to find a whole bouquet of the prettiest windwheel asters you’ve ever seen the next morning along with a thank you note

she’s so sweet BYE

she gets flustered extremely easily so you obviously use this as an opportunity to tease her

when you’re in public rest your hand on her waist and inch it higher until your hand is underneath her shirt and in contact with her warm skin

she’ll actually short-circuit its quite adorable

sometimes y’all will be cuddling and you’ll hear whispers of her insecurities

“am i a good grand master? will i ever be as valiant as vanessa?”

reassure her!!! tell her that she doesn’t need to be like vanessa, she’s already amazing as jean

if you haven’t seen her in awhile, track her down and schedule a lunch date

she never misses appointments and if it’s for you, she’ll gladly make time to see you even if she has to stay up even later than usual

OH-

GIVE HER MASSAGES

she has so much tension and the sorest muscles from hunching over papers and running around on errands

if you sneak into her office and quietly stand behind her before gently pushing down on the sore tendons of her neck, she’ll genuinely fall over on her desk

so make sure you steady her 😀

after you feel how tight her muscles are though, you drag her to barbara bc she needs a healer asap 😭

while most of your time is spent in her office - you helping out in the ways you can while jean is overseeing knight duties - you still have your fair share of life outside of the favonius headquarters

jean never likes to sit still so whenever you have free time, the both of you head off looking for monsters to clear

bouken da bouken???

adventuring w jean is seriously the funnest thing you could ever do

it’s just non-stop you accidentally getting into trouble and her having to come help you

even tho the both of you are dead tired after fighting, what? 20 hilichurl camps now??? the laughter and joy in your eyes shows how you both truly loved every minute of it

it’s both a stress reliever, good fun, and a work-out <3

you’re definitely prone to getting dragged to angel’s share w kaeya

kaeya and jean sometimes hang out after work at the tavern so inevitably you’re dragged along too

all three of you are drunk out of your minds which just makes everything a MILLION times funnier

kaeya slurring over his words makes the two of you start cackling endlessly while diluc just shakes his head making sure to not give you more wine despite your pleas

angel’s share ft. kaeya and bartender diluc are always the best times fr fr

life with her literally feels like y’all are married

so much domesticity it’s so NICE ALJDKSFH

your house is always so clean and the color scheme is impeccable bc jean has such a good eye

you have a chore schedule 😎 but it almost never works out bc jean ends up doing everything without you knowing-

you always confront her abt it and she’s like 😁 “i had some time so i did them! no worries tho” like i- time??? where bitc-

oH- she has amazing style so you can bet shopping w her is literally the best experience

she takes you to all of the hidden gems some places lisa recommended and helps you pick out things

will 100% get really blushy if you come out in something and ask her for her opinion tho she’s literally the cutest

basically jean is a sweet girl who deserves the entirety of teyvat that is all.

thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3

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monodipita · 3 years

Text

an icy stroll with the cavalry captain

words: 1,600

warning(s): general dark themes ahead, yandere themes

A/N: part 1/?? --do send in requests for content if you have any, my request box is open.

"Disobeying curfew, are we, [Y/N]? Naughty, naughty!"

His snooty, heartless tone produced shivers to roll down your spine. You swallowed thickly and turned your head to view none other than Kaeya, which caused you to freeze in place--to be expected of the cryo user. What a devilishly handsome man!

"How did you know?" You asked. And here you thought you disguised your tracks so well...

"Every night for the past twelve nights, you leave your home and stroll leisurely through this area before you take a right around the shrub and head in that direction. What's it mean to you?" He dodged your question with another one, making you bite the inside of your cheek nervously. "Is it that partner of yours?" He pressed, "not enough time to see them in the day? It must be nice to be with the one you love, it's not something I get to experience often." He chuckled, "lucky you."

"You can relax around me, you know. It's only my duty as a Knight to watch over the citizens of Mondstadt," He purred at you to possibly ease your mind, but you felt uncomfortable with the situation. Kaeya was a shady man, no questions asked. . .who knew what he was thinking at any given time? The only predictable thing about him was his drinking habits.

"I-I should go home." You spoke quietly, barely above the lull of an inside voice. How amusing, given the hurt in your heart. You wanted to see your partner so badly. Tonight was a special night for you both, and you didn't want to miss it for anything in Teyvat.

"Mm, now, where's the fun in that? I'm not opposed to the idea of you meeting up with your partner, if that's what you're thinking," Kaeya responded coolly, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You immediately tensed, causing him to chuckle and lean in close to you. He smelled faintly of alcohol, a scent he could've worn naturally by this point. "If it's because you want to see your beloved, by all means, I wouldn't want to be a buzzkill. I'll keep you company while you walk, aye?"

...could you really say no?

"Sure, I guess," you flash a nervous smile at him. "Ah!" He exclaimed with a grin formed on his handsome lips, "then let's not waste time! I know you want to get to your partner's home."

And so, the two of you shared the cobblestone-paved road while he "escorted" you to your destination. The silence between you created a tension so thick that it could've been pierced with a weapon. In your mind, you were trying to make sense of things, but nothing seemed to come up. Just why would Kaeya be out so late at night? You just couldn't think of anything.

"You know, your partner has a pretty sharp eye in the Knights. How do you feel about them becoming an outrider?" Kaeya casually asked. Again, about your partner. You were beginning to notice a pattern, but to keep up appearances, you played along. "I had a feeling they were going to excel. I'm very proud of them, they're usually way too hard on themselves."

"It's because you were training them, weren't you?"

...

Again on the reminder that you could've gone into the knights yourself. He must've been scarred by that day. "Kaeya," you sighed exasperatedly and eyed him with a vexed expression, "please. I'm not, and won't be ready to enter into the knights. You know this, and yet you still find the heart to guilt trip me every time you bring it up?" You jabbed at him. "Have you any way of considering me at all?"

"I am considering you. By pressuring you, of course. Tough love never hurt anyone. Diluc and I practice that type of behavior all the time." If holding weapons at each other's throats was considered "tough love", then you didn't know what to think. "As long as I can pressure you enough to join the knights, then I know you'll thank me later."

"Why?!" You suddenly snapped, bringing your "leisurely" (if stepping so aggressively you could shake little baby teeny pebbles was leisurely, then sure) pace to a complete stop. You turned to face him and glared into his one, piercing azure eye. "I've told you time and time again that I don't want to be in the knights!"

"You don't mean that." Kaeya's eyes hooded, his tone eerily casual. "You wouldn't possibly spend out on spending time with some of the best-skilled people in Mondstadt, would you? I don't think you've even considered the opportunity that's been given to you. Constantly, mind you. I've practically gifted it to you on a silver platter. Are you proud that your...partner..." he seemed to hold back from saying anything rude, "has assumed your position?"

"..." you glared at him.

"Because I'm not," he purred. Even when things were so heated, he didn't even seem to break a sweat. He gently gripped your chin with minimal resistance on your end, and his chilled fingers braced your throat. Your body tensed, while your eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing?"

"It should've been you as my partner, not them. They're nowhere near you, who you are, and what you could be. In fact, your partner is holding you back. I don't think we have to see eye-to-eye to see such an obvious fact, yes?" Kaeya's voice dropped lower, to that of a mumble. "If only you accepted just how skilled you are, then we wouldn't be in this situation. I wouldn't have to see them every day, I could see you instead. I could be--" he stopped, while you remained silent. The duality of him saying 'partner' started to really fuck with your head. The air was so thin, coupled with no one being around to see or hear what was going on, that he was even able to get away with this.

"But alas, you want to continue wasting your breath on an unfortunate human being. I'm certainly not the one to meddle in other people's business, so I'll escort you to your partner's home, and I'll be well on my way..." He trailed off then, putting a pause in his unsettling dialogue. You furrowed your brows as he dropped his hold on your chin, releasing it from the icy grip he maintained on it. How utterly terrifying.

"...I don't want to walk with you anymore." It was all you could muster. Your lip trembled, possibly from a mix of the encroaching cold, Kaeya's words, and a blend of anger and fear. "I want you to get away from me."

"Let's relax," Kaeya hummed as he draped his hands over your shoulders. He turned you into the direction of your partner's home and gave you the gentle push to resume walking. "I'm harmless. Please? Just this one night. I can take you there, and we don't have to say a single word to anyone. We'll just keep my drunken ramblings between us, yes?" He drank so much that his breath permeated alcohol, no matter what time of the day. You must've gotten used to smelling it on him.

And foolishly, you believed his words. You took a deep breath and channeled your anger into a deep exhale, which expelled some of the negative feeling out of your body. He wanted to remain friendly, right? That was totally fine. Sure. Friendly.

As the two of you continued on your venture, the setting of Mondstadt began to rapidly change. The two of you ventured away from the live atmosphere that carried on, even this late at night, despite the curfew arranged for this city of freedom. These homes and buildings that surrounded you weren't lit up at all, and to tell the truth, it didn't seem like anyone was in them. The post lamps served as the only light to guide your way through the wide streets. It was very creepy...

But as you realized that you'd been walking for far too long to have reached your partner's home, your footsteps came to a stop. This was their street, right? "Why... why did we walk all the way out here? Kaeya, where the hell did you take me?" You worriedly looked over at Kaeya, but noticed that he was missing.

"The only way I could make you mine was if I isolated you, of course. I was so moved by your performance that I felt the need to act. I feel bad for lying to you, but not enough to apologize." Kaeya hovered over your half-conscious body. "I've waited far too long for this opportunity. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Someone in their right mind would've stopped... no, someone in their right mind wouldn't have even done what I've done in the first place, but I'm a patient man, and I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want done."

"What... what do... you..." You couldn't even speak, he must've hit you too hard. Oops.

"What do I want? I want you, silly. I wouldn't go through all this trouble if I didn't. You're so special to me that I'd resort to committing unspeakable acts,"

He lifted your half-conscious body up into his arms. "I'm so excited! I've been waiting for this opportunity ever since you got with your partner! And now I can have you to myself. Don't ever question my method of doing things; just know that I get them done." His voice carried into the air.

#yandere kaeya x reader #kaeya x gender neutral reader #kaeya x you #yandere x reader #yandere kaeya #yandere #genshin impact #genshin x gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #reader insert

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moodys-art · 3 years

Note

Hello! I’m not sure if I’m doing this correctly, I’ve never really done this before but I’m super excited since I am in love with your writing. I was just wondering if I could request how Formaggio and/or Illuso would react to meeting their partner’s very doting, huggy and loving parents for the first time? How do you think they would avoid the good old “and what do you do for a job” question? Would they dress nicely or bring a gift? Thanks so much :•)!

Hi ! Thank you for your request, it is perfect. All my apologies for the delay, hope that you're still around to read it. I really loved the prompt idea ! 💜🔅

Formaggio and Illuso meeting their partner's parents - headcanons (separately) :

Formaggio :

Contrary to common belief, Formaggio is going to be extra stressed for this occasion. He's usually an easy-going guy, but meeting his lover's parent is a huge deal for him. Knowing he can sometimes be a bit extra, he doesn't want to disappoint them.

Hence, he'll dress nicely, without overdressing. He'll ask you beforehand what do your parents consider as nice gifts before buying anything : he doesn't want to make them uncomfortable by buying a bottle of fine wine if they don't drink alcohol. His go-to ends up being a fancy box of chocolates. This is a great moment for Formaggio, and he's very happy to be able to spend an evening eating dinner in the comfort of your family's home.

Discovering that your parents are, in fact, such wonderful and doting human beings really takes off a weight off the man's shoulders. He's happy to discuss anything with them. Actually, he'll be so inspired to make a good first impression that he'll naturally talk about any subject with the ease and enthusiasm you and his team know him for. Something that your parents will appreciate immensely.

Formaggio happens to crack a few jokes here and there, and that makes your parents definitely like him. But when your mom asks him what does he does for a living, he panics internally. He thought of the question before, but what would he answer ? Now that Formaggio is facing your lovely parents, he can't bring himself to completely lie about it. Let's be honest, that's the moment he'll get a bit clumsy and flustered since he doesn't know how to change the subject or to give an answer that is satisfactory enough.

But your parents aren't deceived by his answer, how much vague it may be. His way of scratching embarassingly he back of his head is actually adorable. Let's just say that he has a difficult job, which often has to deal with people and their wrongdoings in some unknown spheres of this area of the city, and that sometimes he earns a lot of money, sometimes it's difficult to make ends meet.

"Ya know, I also always wanted to be a barista, was always attracted to that kind of job, and you're still in contact with people. I'm very social !" he'll add with an enthusiastic laugh.

Formaggio will definitely help your parents clean up the table after dinner, and will even show his skills at washing the dishes (he doesn't look like it, but he truly has a gift for doing that quickly and efficiently). Before leaving, he'll make your parents know how much he enjoyed the evening, and that he'll be glad to come back and enjoy their presence and affection any other time.

Illuso :

Illuso will be a bit nervous upon meeting your parents for the first time, but he won't show anything outwardly. It's a great occasion for him to dress in his fanciest clothes : he wants to make a good impression.

To say he's surprised upon meeting your parents isn't exaggerating things in the least : he didn't think your mom and dad were so loving and welcoming, especially to a stranger like him. He's very pleased to hand a beautiful bouquet of flowers to them. Maybe it's not the most useful gift per say, but Illuso knows that beauty often lies in the most ephemeral things known to exist on earth. Your parents will be very pleased with the effort he put into it (Illuso insisted on creating the bouquet by himself instead of letting the florist do it).

He's calm and collected and appreciates greatly the tea afternoon that your parents planned for the four of you. Illuso doesn't miss an occasion to compliment your mom on her homemade blueberry muffins. Your parents being very cheerful and sociable opens a door for a discussion about your childhood. Your boyfriend is more than pleased to learn about all the quite embarassing and/or adorable notable things you did as a child, and he doesn't forget to tease you about it.

"I would've never guess, that they were was so mischievous. Although...", and he'll keep the conversation going, his usual charming nature showing through the discussion, definitely winning your parents over.

However, Illuso isn't to keen on revealing what he does for a living. He'll answer something simple, and will say with a wink that some part of it is supposed to be secret,. Nonetheless, he still adds that part of his job is to inspect things and places : which is not very far from the truth, since his Stand usually serves for spying on La Squadra's targets and enemies, and makes the way for his other teammates to finish the work. Illuso is a good liar, but this time he only lies (by omitting informations) to protect your parents, since they are not supposed to be included in a gangster's business.

He stays quite confident the whole time you all are talking and bonding with each other, but when the time comes to leave and that both of your parents hug him fiercely, he doesn't know what to do anymore. He'll be a flustered mess, absolutely baffled by the affection he's given. Your dad ruffling a bit through his hair will have him speechless, he'll simply nod and smile, very grateful to have met your family.

After the event, he'll get all blushy if you tease him about it, but hey, it's only revenge for his teamming up with your parents and teasing you about your childhood.

#la squadra x reader #la squadra #la squadra esecuzioni #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #formaggio x reader #illuso x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba headcanons

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shirophantomvox · 3 years

Text

Random date night with Illumi, Hisoka, and Chrollo

Hello, anon! Ask and you shall receive! This prompt is very interesting and I will try to keep it in character as much as possible. To sum this up, Hisoka would take you to an ice cream shop, a carnival, or apple orchard while Illumi would rather go to an art or historical museum. Chrollo would persuade you to attend a book reading/author signing or go hiking. Depending on who you are and what your ideal date is, I’m sure you’d find them all fun. Going to a carnival or apple orchard is my go-to since I’ve barely been because they’re all in the suburbs. These headcanons are explained much more than the others. That is why Chrollo and Illumi seem to be short, but they’re not. Also, I can’t wait for Halloween because these headcanons are going to be amazing. I am extremely sorry if there are grammar errors! Taking classes on Zoom is frustrating and now my brain has to relearn everything that I lost in 3 months! Before we get started, I have a few announcements.

This post is more laid back than my other headcanons because I tried to keep it as canon as possible.

I want to thank you all for 65 followers! It means a lot! I’m happy to see that a lot of you enjoy my writing and like it enough to follow me! I have a challenge for you! When I reach 100 followers, I will host some type of writing event here...but I need ideas. I’ve seen some pages do specials where you can send an ask and pretend like you're talking to a character and I respond with what they’d say. SEND ME IDEAS! I WILL CREDIT YOU!

I will be stepping back a little more than before. I’ll still be logged in and re-blogging but as far as writing posts like this...it may only be once or twice a week. You see, I’m in college and I’m struggling financially and I have to work on scholarships. If you all send me an ask, be patient.

Voltron posts will only be created based on asks. I will not be writing posts about VLD if no one requests them. I do not receive any feedback from it anymore and no one seems to like them.

Now, let’s get into the post.

Let's start with Illumi first.

Headcanon 1: Illumi has a secret admiration for different types of art but he specifically enjoys pop art and surrealism. He has commented on how surrealism makes his brain twist and his feelings swirl as he tries to figure out the piece and what inspires it.

He prefers not to participate in tours as he likes to digest the art at his own pace.

Headcanon 2: In his spare time, he paints on a canvas. His art style consists of both surrealism and abstract art. For a person with a dark personality, his compositions always contain bright colors and abstract techniques that leave you wondering about his TRUE personality. He is truly a good man with a bright personality but after being abused for so long, those behaviors/personalities have been shoved so far down his throat that they may not come back up.

He has a bad habit of asking you what you thought about every single piece of art you passed. The conversations were great but this is a date after all. The playful conversation slowly turns into a lecture about art. Although you loved your bf’s dictionary-like brain it also drained your energy.

One of his favorite artists is Vincent Van Gough. Although he favors surrealism, Van Gogh’s art style was mind-blowing to him. So amazed that he buys several Van Gogh t-shirts from the gift shop.

His favorite piece created by Van Gough is “Starry Night”.

He notices that you are becoming bored and decides that it is time for MORE excitement, one that you are certain to enjoy.

“Where are we going,” you ask, pretending to be interested.

“Down to the basement. We are going to have a bite to eat.”

Since Illumi rarely smiled, when he did smile it drove you wild. The anticipation of what his next move was going to be is what drove that wildness. Being a bounty hunter was thrilling already but dating a smart, badass assassin was totally out of your league but it worked out.

Headcanon 3: Illumi’s idea of being romantic is dramatically different from yours. He believes just spending time with you on the couch was enough. He is correct; but if you have the time and funds, your time together should be a little spontaneous. You insisted on dates outside of the house because his family will not stay out of your business.

“Illumi, I am too hungry for more trivia.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry. So am I. That is why I’ve decided to take you to a wine and cheese party.”

Huh? Wine and Cheese at 3PM? That’s ok. When was there a time limit on when you can drink alcohol?

Illumi has indirectly attended parties as such when he was 15 years old. He never drank, but he watched as his mother’s friends (surprisingly) talked about business and their children. This time, you weren’t going to talk about business for once. Instead, you two were going to actually talk about what couples discuss.

Headcanon 4: When introduced to alcohol for the first time, Illumi immediately stated how he hated brown liquor. That includes Hennessy, Jack Daniels, etc. It makes him sick to his stomach. He prefers to drink Smirnoff mixed with fruity drinks like strawberry or pineapple.

He loves it when you make these drinks for him on a summer day.

Hence the title wine and cheese, you both go to a stand-up table, place your brochures down, and actually have a wonderful conversation not involving work or hunting.

Illumi smiled a few times, more than usual. Whenever he appears to be softer even around you, that is because he has mellowed out and doesn't have the overbearing weight of his family on his shoulders. You set him free.

Hisoka

According to a one-shot that another manga artist created, they expressed that Hisoka was found on the side of the road, was taken in by someone that worked at a local circus, and learned Nen in a matter of days. Hisoka’s clown look and having the skills of a magician proves that this has to be canon in some way.

Headcanon 1: Given this potential backstory, going to a carnival is his go-to every summer. He wants to take you to a circus but saves that for you as an engagement gift.

Everyone with a heart knows that whether or not you’re in a relationship or not the carnival is fun as hell! Expensive fried food, elephant ears, funnel cake, ICEE’s, rides, and stuffed animals are to die for!

Being at a carnival relaxes him so his bloodlust isn’t activated unless someone bumps into him and causes a scene.

Headcanon 2: PDA is something that Hisoka does well; he doesn’t overdo it but does it enough where people get the impression that you are a couple and aren’t “best friends”.

While completing a mission depending on how rough it may be, he insists that you tag along to see how he handles the situation. You’ve already seen his ruthlessness from Hunter’s exam but he insists.

His sense of pride gets the best of him sometimes. Sometimes his head is so big that it reminds you of a large birthday balloon.

Headcanon 3: ANYWAY, given his nature, he is very adventurous, dangerous, and courageous. If he wants to go on the Demon Drop, he’ll do it and you DO not have a choice in the matter. He’ll tease or guilt trip you into doing something that you would not like to do.

“Well, you wouldn’t want me to cling on to someone else, would you?”

“No. Of course not,” you reply.

“Let’s go then, scaredy-cat.”

As a hunter, you’ve seen worse. Why are you so afraid to go on a ride?

Headcanon 4: At apple orchards, cornfield mazes are one of his favorites. You cannot for the life of you figure out how to get out but he can. He grabs a scarecrow and scares you from behind. That annoys you but is nothing compared to later on that night.

Oh. My. God. It’s haunted house time!

“Hisoka, I’m not going in!”

“Why not? I’ll protect you.”

“Because they’re monsters and I already have to deal with one.”

It took him a second to catch on that you were talking about him.

“That’s going to bite you in the butt, kitten.”

Headcanon 5: Like Killua, Hisoka has a sweet tooth. Don’t allow his buff appearance to fool you!

He LOVES caramel apples, elephant ears, funnel cake, freshly squeezed lemonade, fudge, and cotton candy. How can this man manage to stay in shape? The world may never know.

Headcanon 6: He isn’t one to play by other people’s rules but he sets his own rules with your relationship that you both must obey. One of those rules says that neither of you can be on your phones while together.

Headcanon 7: Hisoka insists that you both wear either matching pants or matching shirts to avoid unnecessary flirtation.

He isn’t jealous but on “us time”, he doesn’t want to lose a single second.

Headcanon 8: Hisoka only jumps in when necessary. Given that you’ve passed the hunter’s exam and work as a bodyguard, he knows you can handle your business. If the person can’t take a hint, then he steps in. They almost back up immediately considering Hisoka is towering over them.

When the moon shines, you both go to the car and off to sleep in your comfy king-sized bed.

Chrollo

We all know that Chrollo loves to read! What does he specifically like to read? What Genre? Does he like to read alone or with other people?

Although Chrollo is a thief and must be hidden in the shadows, the authorities have called off the search for him for at least 3 years. Slowly but surely, he begins to find himself in the outside world again.

Chrollo once discussed a book with the Phantom Troupe when they were being transported to another place for a mission. He read “Tears of a Tiger” by Sharon M. Draper.

The reading sessions are opened with an affirmation and a reason to be thankful to be alive. He says he is thankful for the troupe, glances at you, and smiles. No one catches on to that sly face except for Phinks.

Headcanon 1: Chrollo is very silent and shy to an extent. He only associates with people he knows and trusts. You are the social butterfly at this moment.

Chrollo tags along behind you like a shy child, holding your hand while you stick out your free hand to greet everyone.

Today, the book club was going to read “Divergent”.

Headcanon 2: Although he loves to read, he hates it when others read out loud. Most people are drably read and it annoys him. After a while, he takes over. Chrollo was tense the first 30 minutes of the meeting because two cops were there but neither of them noticed it was him.

Headcanon 3: Chrollo often acts the part of the character that he is reading in the book. His tone, attitude, and emphasis on certain words keep the group engaged. He is complimented on his acting!

“Good Job, honey,” you whisper.

He responds by tightly squeezing your hand.

His tone was so impressive that the host insisted that he read for the entire night. He was ok with that because in between reads he was often distracted by a lovely pair of jeans and shoes you had on. You were into writing, so hearing others read and act out the characters helped.

Headcanon 4: In some settings, Chrollo is very braggadocious. He insisted that the group read one of your stories so you could be provided with feedback.

“We’d be delighted to view your story, y/n!”

“It will be fun!”

The book club wasn’t a stereotypical club that only consisted of soccer moms but instead consisted of men and women who were involved with a business, law enforcement, health, etc. This was an open space for everyone to relax and forget about their demanding jobs.

After the meeting, the group went to dinner at a nearby pizzeria. You all enjoyed large pizzas, beer, salads, and dessert. How could your stomach (or anyone’s stomach) hold that much?

Chrollo laughed so much that it made you question if he was your actual boyfriend or not. He even engaged in conversations with the two off-duty cops! For once, you helped Chrollo experience the greater things in life; true love, friendship, and happiness.

“Thank you,” he whispered and slyly placed a kiss on your hand. “For everything.”

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cheekygreenty · 3 years

Text

Little Witch - Part 22

The Darkling x Reader

'The General is busy' Ivan stood blocking the door, not letting you through. His red silk kefta stood out like a warning sign in the dead of the hallway and his face a stony expression but you didn't miss the slight tinge of a condescending grimace.

'Ivan move away from the door.'

'The General wished to not be disturbed.'

'Ivan I could eat you for breakfast. Now move for your Deputy.' Whether it was your assertion of dominance, the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, or the firey shadows erupting from your hand, Ivan moved away from the door, defeated. You were done playing nice and done playing the diplomat. You were taking the evening off.

The doors were pushed wide open with a mere flick of your fingers, quickly meeting Aleksander's gaze already set on you. No doubt there was no need for such a dramatic entrance, but as you said, you were taking the evening off, Deputy Y/L/N has retired for the night. Y/N is here to play now and she doesn't fight fair.

There was someone right in front of him, a dirty and ragged First-Army soldier. If it weren't for the soldier's slight bow of the head in your direction, you would've guessed you walked in on a pissing contest.

'Hello Soldier'

'Deputy Y/L/N'

'You know who I am'

'Of course'

You smiled and looked at Aleksander, inspecting his face for any sign of emotion but all you were met with was a clenched jaw. 'The Stag?' A map of Ravka lay open next to him on the table but there was no indication on it of a precise location.

'Mr.Oretsev is bargaining. He won't give up the location if not for a meeting with our Sun-Summoner.' Oretsev. As in Mal Oretsev, Alina's tracker?

'And have you started to vet him? Cause from what I can see you're just standing here.'

His hands balled into fists at his side and he quickly moved past the tracker to you, grabbing your elbow tightly and dragging you out of the room and into the adjacent drawing-room. You shrugged him off just as roughly and shut the doors.

'Is this how you treat your second in command?' You brushed off your kefta, adjusting the sleeves.

'I'm getting really tired of you trying to show me up'

'Well I'm sorry I'm naturally more intimidating than you.'

Y/N and Aleksander were completely different from Deputy Y/L/N and General Kirigan. For as long as you could remember, you both kept work and life separate but now things somehow changed. The dynamics were shifting in nobody's favor. You unknowingly kept prodding for dominance which never happened before. Years ago, you were happy to listen to Aleksander, to do as he said, to go to sleep cuddled into his side having forgotten the workday, to put aside the orders he gave that didn't sit well with you. But now you craved to call the shots and he seemed to notice too.

'What do you want? I really do not have time for this.' He started pacing the room impatiently.

'Oh pray tell what is it that's so pressing? You can't get the location out of him without Alina finding out about the letters. Your lies are going to catch up with you' Didn't I tell you so.

'Can you not even pretend to be helpful?'

'No' You pursed your lips and crossed your arms.

'Have you spoken to the Queen?' He stopped pacing and waited for your answer, obviously eager to hear what the Tsaritsa had to say but despite the heartiness of the situation, you chose to stay quiet.

'No, I didn't.'

'Then do your job Deputy.' With that he swung open the door and walked out, the tension visible around him and palpitating as he strode out of view with Ivan trailing him. There it was, his small yet effective remark to remind you of your place. It was as if overnight he came to the conclusion that you were after his Grisha and was making it known you were just a Deputy and he was Aleksander Morozova, the Black Heretic and it angered you beyond reason.

*****

You found yourself right back next to Zoya with another drink in your hand. Although you felt it hitting you and relaxing all the muscles in your body, your mouth was glued shut when it came to spilling out all your problems for a shoulder to lean on.

'Zoya have you ever been proposed to?' You didn't know why you asked, but it slipped out. You could see her momentarily freeze but she covered it well with a flick of her ebony hair.

'All the time. Have you seen me? But it's always the poor and useless ones. The good ones don't want a weapon, they want a housewife'

'Wise words spoken by an even wiser woman'

'I accept credit where it's given' You both laughed and went back to meaningless conversation. Had you known when you arrived at the Little Palace that the sneering Squaler would become one of your closest friends and trusted soldiers, you would've laughed. She was still vexing and shrewd but behind all the remarks, you saw the true Zoya and you liked her.

She was very guarded, her walls built up so high from years in the Second-Army but sometimes her facade slipped. It would be the faintest look of sorrow on her face or a slight pause in her voice that would catch you off guard, slowly letting you piece together who Zoya really was. You had already come to a conclusion; she was the best damn soldier Ravka had ever seen and no doubt will amount to great things. Her fire burned bright and fervid and that's all it takes to be and do good.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of the Inferni twins following an oprichniki with a suspicious gaze. The alcohol might've been enough to dull your senses, but your job was still to protect the Palace and so you hastily excused yourself and followed the two from a distance. No doubt you caught the attention of many people as your gown trailed behind you and drew unnecessary attention. You looked ahead of the Inferni and studied the guard, noticing a limp. Now that you thought of it, you could've sworn the same guard had briefly conversed with a female guard too, one strikingly similar to the silks artist that dangled down next to the stairs. You shot a brief glance toward the staircase and sure enough, the silks were there but they were empty. Intruders.

You pursued the two men, noting their direction toward the chapel but another oprichniki suddenly blocked your way.

'Deputy, The General requests your presence right away.' The guard stood in front of you, the panic so vivid on his face it sobered you up substantially.

'What's the matter?' Your voice was short and annoyed as you watched the blue kefta disappear from your line of sight.

'We caught an intruder trying to escape after murdering Marie. The General thinks it is the conductor' At this you froze and your eyes widened twice their size. You suddenly felt a pang of guilt as Marie's name was mentioned. You were in charge of Marie and Alina, and if you had just done your job tonight instead of being in your head then maybe Marie would've been alive.

'And where was Genya Saffin?'

'She fought him off as much as she could but he fired at her'

'Saints' You were mad now. Not only was this man killing Grisha in their home, but he was the conductor. You had read Nina Zenik's reports about him, but knowing he somehow penetrated the walls of the Palace you had so tirelessly tried to fortify angered you beyond compare. The limping man, the silks artist, now this.

'Was he alone?'

'Seems so, Ivan and Zoya are interrogating him now, they wish for you to accompany them.'

'I'll be down momentarily, but for now come with me.' You nodded him to follow you as you hurried to the chapel not giving him a second to object. The noise of the party fizzled out, no foreign dignitary finding it appealing to pray to the Saints at this hour.

Your joined steps echoed through the golden halls and your heart rate picked up. This evening was turning sideways really quickly, maybe you shouldn't have had all those drinks. Maybe you should've told Aleksander about your predicament. Maybe you should have stayed with Marie instead. So many maybes.

You directed more guards your way as you walked, all of them silently obeying your command and not speaking. If you were right, the whole Palace was compromised and you would need reinforcements.

'You three head that way, I'll take this door.' You pointed down the hallway and turned into the door to your left. The chapel was silent and peaceful. The candles were all lit, begging to be witness to prayer, but the room itself screamed danger.

You listened for a heartbeat, felt the air for a body, but came up empty-handed. Still, you couldn't shake that strange creep of unease. Your feet took you behind the altar and between the pews, where with a gasp and a curse, you found the Inferni's body dead and surrounded in a puddle of his own blood. The gash in his head was obviously made with a knife, but the remnants of the blade were gone.

The rage flew through you like a ghost in a graveyard. A Grisha was murdered in a chapel. It felt like both a personal attack and an attack on all Grisha living in the Little Palace. The Inferni lying dead at your feet was killed in his home, murdered in the home of his Saints. You needed to find Aleksander and tell him. You needed to get the King and Queen out of here even though that would be the last thing you wanted to do.

But as soon as you found Aleksander in the courtyard facing Baghra, that unease turned into outright fear. Aleksander loved his mother, but the way he looked at her right now spoke the opposite of love. He always had doubts about her, always assumed she was scheming but she rarely ever acted. The fear pushed you to assume she definitely did something.

'What is it?' You were shivering, the bottom of your gown ruined now with dry leaves and dirt clinging to it as you made your way to the two. 'What have you done Baghra?' So much has already gone wrong.

She looked at you with a smirk, a smile that yelled in triumph 'I won' but uttered no words. You turned to Aleksander for an explanation. The shivering now chattering your teeth and turning your lips blue.

'Alina is gone, the tracker is dead'

All the air in your lungs vanished as your hands unknowingly went to wrap around the old woman's throat. 'You wretched old witch. How could you do this' Your words dripped in venom so vast it made you wince. She didn't respond to your assault in the slightest, just kept that condescending grin stuck on her lips.

You felt his hands grasping at your arms, roughly pulling you back from his mother and your chokehold. 'Y/N stop it' You didn't care about Alina too much, but purposely doing all of this to pull you and Aleksander off the rails was like a thorn in your side that never got pulled out in 98 years.

'Are you the one who killed the Inferni in the chapel too? Or the one who let intruders into my Palace? Huh? ANSWER ME' You pushed his arms away from you and ignored his questioning look. Baghra still said nothing, just shook her head as if in pity. 'Every time you leave that damn hut you cause nothing but trouble'

Taking a step back and then another, you forced yourself to walk to the dungeons to interrogate the conductor not caring if Aleksander followed you or not. If you didn't leave, you would've surely killed her.

-------

Part 23

Masterlist

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1 @adoringb @grisha-of-shadow-bone @rosiethefairy @carlywhomever @allisjustok @keepdaydreamingbb @luciadiosa @toujurspure

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taeyohonic · 3 years

Text

stolen dances | chap. 10

summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.

pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader

rating: m

warning: alcohol consumption (drunk people / hungover people), swear words

additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y

words: 2100

links: prev. | next [masterlist]

note: lower case letters intended

chapter summary: jimin is team jungkook... whatever that means

“fuck”, jungkook hisses in your ears as the sizzling pan burns his hand. even years after their final performance, seokjin still inhabits the second nature of being the leader. he moves swiftly around the table to check on jungkook, who stays in his position. his breath is hot on your neck as you try to kill yoongi with your stare. with caution you touch jungkook’s burned hand, but the singer won’t let your fingers rest on his before he withdraws himself from you. jimin looks at the scene in front of him with distaste while the oldest coos at jungkook.

“let me be, hyung.”

“you’re hurt, kookie. we have to ice it”, seokjin insists and you pry your eyes away from your therapist to turn around, only to find jungkook watching you intensely.

“_____ knows where the ice is.” yeah, every single one of his friends knows where the freezer is. it’s essential for margarita wednesday. but you don’t dare to voice that – not when even the loudmouthed taehyung is keeping quiet.

“come on, kook”, you say softly and stand up, the delicious chicken completely forgotten.

there is the faint sound of yoongi’s apology in your ears as you move closer to the kitchen, jungkook like a cloak following behind you.

“how bad is the pain?”, you ask and collect an icepack, looking more at the granite worktop in jungkook’s spotless kitchen than your best friend.

“____, look at me”, he orders roughly. instead of taking the ice from you, he waits.

after a second too long, you face him. his eyes are hot on your skin and you feel yourself shrink inch by inch.

“you sang for him?”

“i… no – i just helped him out”, you explain. “yoongi needed the track for his audition and … he really tried other options – you, you know how terrible my voice is. but the label demanded the tape – we didn’t have time.”

you don’t know why an apology is nestled on your lips; there is nothing to be sorry for. jungkook disagrees.

“you sang for him”, he repeats, not in question, but as an accusation.

“what’s the big deal?”, you whisper and press the icepack onto his hand. for a split-second you think he’ll push you back and throw the cooling aid across the room. but your best friend does the complete opposite, taking a step closer to you. you feel his chest heaving as the space between the two of you grows smaller and smaller.

there are a lot of reasons why you love jungkook. one of them is that you are oh so attracted to him.

your heart kindly reminds you of that fact by beating heavily against your ribcage. you can smell his skin and see the tiniest scar his brother gave him when he was a toddler. this is not good.

“you won’t even sing karaoke with me, but you’ll sing for him?”, he asks and grips your hand to push it onto his burn. he hisses in pain but does not stop the pressure.

“you’re all famous singers, jungkook… i.. i don’t wanne embarrass myself in front of you”, you answer. he only huffs.

“____, you puked on me.”

“the rollercoaster was too fast – even jimin said that.”

“you had diarrhea during our last road trip.”

“nobody noticed that.” his eyes widen in disbelieve at your claim.

“i massaged your stomach the whole night to get the cramps to stop. everybody noticed, ____.”

“i don’t know what you want to achieve with this, jungkook”, you whine and try not to notice how delicious his collarbone looks under the kitchen lights.

“___”, he starts, “you can’t embarrass yourself in front of me.”

your eyes are still set on his collarbone and he breathes, clearly annoyed.

“there is no shame in this friendship, ___”, jungkook states with finality in his voice. you do not dare to meet his eyes, after the word ‘friendship’ burns itself onto your mind.

“music is half of who i am”, he continues, “i’d love to share it with my best friend.”

“okay”

your answer is met with a soft smile you do not see.

“okay”, he repeats and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

he steps away from you a moment later and now, his skin out of reach, you look at his face. his eyes are kind on you.

“let’s see if they left some chicken”, you say and before jungkook can respond, you’ve left the kitchen and your beating heart behind.

“where is all the chicken?”, you exclaim as you join the boys again. jimin’s faint blush is overshadowed by taehyung’s snicker.

“we were only gone for a second, hyungs!”, jungkook adds and helps you by adjusting your chair after you take your seat across from a full-mouthed yoongi.

“there is enough pasta for you to not go hungry”, seokjin answers and passes on the sauce to your best friend, who coats his spaghetti with the citrusy sauce, muttering to himself.

“so, you’ll help with the remix?”, taehyung asks yoongi, clearly done with your complaints.

yoongi looks at jungkook instead of taehyung as he replies.

“yeah, joon and i have been drabbling for a few days.” they have?

“maybe you can bring your demo next week to movie night?”, taehyung questions next.

“next movie night?”, yonngi repeats with furrowed eyebrows matching jungkook’s expression.

“or you can bring it by the office to my meeting with namjoon?”, seokjin offers. sorry, what?

“joon called you already?”, you ask. you distinctly remember the business card you’ve given your favorite barista at the restaurant. but you never imagined him to act this fast. even yoongi seems surprised.

“i like his voice”, seokjin nods at you and continues to eat his last chicken piece.

“but not as much as mine, right?”, jimin whines only to get slapped by the youngest.

your friends are really, really spoiled, you think with a smile and nudge yoongi’s foot under the table.

you hate how heavy your eyes feel while you blink at jungkook.

“you sure you don’t want to have a sleepover?”, he whispers as he helps you into your jacket. scratch that, your arms are heavier than your eyelids. your whine reminds him more of a kitten than a human and he smiles at you.

“nooo, i just… i-i wanne have my special pillow. and my socks.”

“okay, okay, okay – honey – don’t need any tears in this hallway”, seokjin hushes before hugging you. “drink lots of water, understood?”, he asks and lets you go. you nod silently and smile at him. even that is a task.

jungkook looks at the both of you and can’t help his chuckles at your big eyes in front of seokjin’s wide shoulders. it’s just… too cute.

“thanks for the invite.” yoongi pulls the host back to reality and jungkook nods at him with a fake smile.

“sure”, he says. now that you are half-away in dreamland, he doesn’t have to pretend to like your friend. he just wants him out of his house and your life. it physically pains jungkook to let you go together. how special can your at-home-pillow really be?

even in your state you notice how jimin sidesteps yoongi’s hand and how fast taehyung opens the door to lead your therapist out in the hallway. jimin pushes seokjin aside to say goodbye to you, huffing into your hairline as you squeeze him half-heartedly back. his behavior towards yoongi makes you dislike him more than you care to admit.

your friend bows to the boys before moving to the hallway. there is just taehyung between you and the exit now. jimin passes you off to the troublemaker, but not without some clouded thunder in his eyes. embraced by taehyung, you whisper: “what’s up with jimin?”

the former singer knows that eyes and ears are on you – they always are when you’re with them – so he presses his lips close to your ear before answering.

“he’s always been team jungkook.”

it takes you six hours of sleep, two coffees and one aspirin before his words reach your brain the next morning.

you to troublemaker: what’s team jungkook?

your message to taehyung goes unanswered. it makes you mad and you do not like being ignored. after crafting the whole day with your kids in pottery class, you make your way out of the school. you try to repress memories of the awkward lunch with jisoo, not ready to face the reality that she made jungkook uncomfortable, and the alcohol still makes your steps more sluggish than graceful.

jungkook’s mercedes in front of the building comes as a surprise.

“surprise!”, he exclaims and opens the car door for you.

“what are you doing here?”, you ask, too drained to be more forthcoming. the former idol smiles behind his sunglasses.

“surprising my very chipper, sunshine-y best friend.” jungkook sounds so excited that you can feel your lips – and mood – lifting by the second.

“and what’s the surprise?” other than your very busy ceo taking the afternoon off to give you a ride instead of letting you take the crowded train home.

“i wanted to take you to the park!” he points to the basket hidden in his car and your cheeks flush while looking at his long, long finger.

“come ooon”, jungkook tries to shush you into the seat, not ready for some of the pedestrians to notice the famous man. maybe he shouldn’t flash his gucci sunglasses.

“okay, okay, kookie, okay”, you relent and squeeze his shoulder before getting into the mercedes.

it only takes him seconds and then he’s in the driver’s seat, smiling happily at you.

“how was pottery?”, he asks and speeds out into the traffic. you’ve sent him some of your students’ creations from today during lunch, trying to escape jisoo’s eyes – they’d been so proud. you haven’t shown him yours.

“my mug looks so ugly”, you mutter, only to hear a huff from jungkook.

“no way – your designs are unique… never ugly.”

at the next red light, you flash him a picture of your grotesque creation. he is silent until the lights change to green. eyes on the road, jungkook tries to soothe you.

“practice makes perfect, ___.” you only snort.

“yeah well… i think we’ll focus more on learning tomorrow. minimal creativity. maximal brains.”

there is a comfortable silence in the car – but not for long.

“how was your day?”, you ask and turn your upper body to the driver so you’re more focused on his hands gripping the steering wheel.

jungkook sighs before responding. “the board doesn’t like our promotion strategy for europe. so, we’ll have to revise the concept. sales are good – the finance department had a boner for their whole thirty minutes presentation, calculating how much money we’ll make this quarter.”

he takes a turn and you can already see the green from the park.

“had lunch with jin and went for a mini workout after that.”

jungkook parks the car in one swift motion and you have to suppress the moan at his controlled handling of the wheel. he doesn’t even look bothered by the vehicles waiting for him to maneuver into the tight space. after he turns off the engine, your best friend faces you fully.

“and i googled a bit”, he admits. it’s a random fact, making you conscious of its deeper meaning.

“during your lunch with jin?”, you ask. “or while doing squats?”

“during the finance presentation – it was so boring, ____”, he groans and falls forward onto your shoulder.

“and what did you google?”, you ask and press his earlobe between your fingertips. you can still feel the numerous holes from his idol days. it’s a shame he doesn’t wear earrings anymore.

“you know…”, jungkook starts softly, “i wondered – at the restaurant, with namjoon.” his forehead is still resting on you, so he easily notices your stiffened body.

“i would have kind of believed it if you met him first. you drink way too much coffee. he’s a barista.” jungkook’s explanation is hushed against your skin.

“but you met yoongi first, _____.”

“yeah”, you admit quietly.

“min yoongi’s practice has a website, ____.”

“yeah”

“min yoongi is a licensed therapist, ____.”

there is a beat of silence as he waits for you to decide how open you want to be with your best friend… and yourself.

“he is my licensed therapist, jungkook.”

_____

sorry for the late update. hope you are all healthy! love, dana

p.s. this had a whole lot of “uhhh she went to therapy” vibe. therapy is cool, i only survived because i went to see a therapist. jungkook thinks so too; don’t let the last scene fool you. so… we’ll have the park “outing” next and after that… all goes down the drain. I promise.

taglist: @livewittykid @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad @jinsearthh @kseokwu

#btswriterscollective #bangtanuniversity #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ceo!jungkook #idol!jungkook #bts x reader #bts x you #bts angst #jeon jungkook

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besanii · 4 years

Note

12 for shattered mirrors? :)

12. a hoarse whisper “kiss me”

Shattered Mirrors 59

[directly follows #19]

Their presence at the festival inevitably turns heads.

It is unsurprising, given Wei Wuxian’s famously reclusive nature and the astronomical price tag attached to his company, not to mention the abundance of rumours surrounding him since his arrival in Gusu over a year ago. To see him accompanying their very own Lan Wangji, Gusu’s most eligible, most powerful and wealthiest bachelor, who has never demonstrated any prior interest in romance or marriage, is reason enough to set tongues wagging.

They walk side-by-side along the river, the lantern swaying from its handle in Wei Wuxian’s hands emitting a soft orange glow in the darkening night. The streets are growing busier as the night sets in, the fading sunlight replaced with candles and lanterns like fireflies rising from the water’s edge. There is music in the distance where local troupes have erected makeshift stages for the night’s festivities, and many delicious aromas fill the air the further along the path they walk.

Two laughing children run past on their way to a stall selling lanterns, brushing against Wei Wuxian on their way. He stumbles sideways with a small gasp, and a hand is there at his elbow and on his shoulder to steady him. The children continue on their way without realising.

“Are you alright?” Lan Wangji asks gently, brow furrowed with concern. “They did not hurt you?”

Wei Wuxian shakes his head with a smile.

“I’m fine, Wangye, no need to worry,” he assures him. “Children are boisterous by nature. It’s to be expected.”

He goes to step out of the protective circle of Lan Wangji’s arms, but the hand at his elbow tightens imperceptibly, just enough to still his retreat. When he looks up, Lan Wangji is regarding him with a soft, open expression, his lips slightly parted as his eyes check him over for injuries. Heat rises along the back of his neck under the scrutiny, keenly aware of the curious looks they are receiving from passersby.

“Wangye,” he murmurs. “We are in public.”

His reminder is thankfully heeded and Lan Wangji lowers his hands back to his sides, the tips of his ears pink. Wei Wuxian inclines his head and steps back to put a more respectable distance between them, his fingers fiddling restlessly with the handle of the lantern.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji starts, then falters, uncertain. At a quirk of Wei Wuxian’s eyebrow, he clears his throat. ”Thank you for accompanying me tonight.”

Wei Wuxian laughs softly, teasingly.

“It is an honour to be in Wangye’s company,” he says. “Xian-er should be the one to thank Wangye for allowing me to accompany you.”

Lan Wangji exhales heavily through his nose, pained.

“You know that is not what I meant,” he says. “And dispense with the formalities. There is no need for any of that between us. Not anymore.”

“On the contrary, Wangye,” Wei Wuxian says, turning away to look down at the length of the street they had yet to walk, “the differences between us are still very much akin to Heaven and Earth. I would not dare to presume familiarity with Wangye, especially not in public, where our every action is scrutinised.”

He knows Lan Wangji can see the sense of his words when he sighs—a tiny, displeased little sound that would be almost petulant on anyone else—and turns in the direction Wei Wuxian is facing. The sun is almost completely set now and the festival in full swing; the street before them is crowded with revellers, mingling in front of stalls, leaning over the water’s edge to talk to vendors along the river, running and bumping into each other on their way. There is scarcely any room to move without being swept up in the throng.

A younger Wei Wuxian would not have hesitated to jump right into the thick of things, darting from stall to stall, trying every dish from every vendor, laughing and shouting and celebrating to his heart’s content. Now he stands quietly at Lan Wangji’s side, a wistful smile playing on his lips, and makes no move to go.

“It’s gotten quite busy,” he comments, voice light. Lan Wangji hums in assent.

“Perhaps you would like to go somewhere quieter?” he suggests. “I hear the new braised lamb at Fan Tower is excellent fare on a cold night.”

The suggestion is met with a surprised laugh.

“Wangye would eat the braised lamb at Fan Tower?” Wei Wuxian asks. “I thought Wangye usually ate vegetarian.”

Lan Wangji glances at him out of the corner of his eye, lips twitching upward.

“Usually,” he concedes with a slight inclination of his head. “But I have been known to partake in meat on occasion.” He gestures to his right with one arm. “Shall we?”

Wei Wuxian laughs and dips his knee. “Please, lead on Wangye.”

Fan Tower is one of the busiest and most renowned restaurants in all of Caiyi where common folk would usually be hard-pressed to find a table without booking months in advanced. In his youth, Wei Wuxian had liked to come here for their wine—the highest quality Emperor’s Smile in all of Gusu—and had made friends with the owners of the establishment so as to never have to worry about finding a table. Since his return, however, he had not been back.

The appearance of Lan Wangji at the entrance sends management into a frenzy of greetings and preparations, and they are ushered into a private room upstairs within minutes. They greet Wei Wuxian politely, but the hospitality holds none of the exuberance that it had for Lan Wangji. Not that Wei Wuxian had expected any less, but the difference does not sit well with his companion.

“It really isn’t anything to worry about, Wangye,” Wei Wuxian assures him. “I am a stranger, after all, and one with a reputation. Wangye, on the other hand, is the esteemed Hanguang-wang, the younger brother to the Emperor, our stations in life are vastly different—they are only responding as is proper.”

As the waiter leaves, he pours them both a cup of tea. It is the finest biluochun of the season, no doubt in recognition of Lan Wangji’s preference for green teas, and he takes a deep breath to savour the fruity, floral aroma with a smile. He catches Lan Wangji watching him as he does, and raises one eyebrow in question. Lan Wangji shakes his head minutely, embarrassed.

“I did not mean to stare,” he says. “But I noticed that you no longer drink wine, even though it is in abundance.”

Ah. Wei Wuxian sets the cup back on the table, his smile slipping.

“I’m afraid my body no longer tolerates alcohol the way it used to in my youth,” he says with a weak chuckle. “I get the most dreadful headaches when I do indulge myself in it, it really isn’t fair.”

But his attempt to lighten the mood only serves to deepen Lan Wangji’s frown, so he changes the topic instead. He reaches for the lantern that has been set on the table beside him, running his fingers over the two rabbits.

“The style looks familiar,” he says. “Did you paint this yourself, Wangye?”

Lan Wangji doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to—the glow of his ears gives the answer away. A warm tenderness unfurls deep within his chest at the thought of Lan Wangji bent over his desk, painting these rabbits and assembling the lantern piece by piece, as they had once done many years ago. So consumed by his own reminiscing, he starts when a large, warm hand wraps around his on the table, drawing his attention back to Lan Wangji beside him.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji’s eyes, usually the colour of rich honey, turns molten gold in the candlelight, sending shivers down Wei Wuxian’s spine. “About my offer, the other day—”

For a moment, Wei Wuxian is half-afraid Lan Wangji will say he has changed his mind, that his offer of protection, of freedom, of home has been rescinded. He would not blame him if he did; after all, he had been most cruel in his initial rejection, had pushed him away over and over again despite his earnestness and sincerity. The memory of his actions, his words, has shame welling up in the back of his throat, thick and choking, and he has to turn away in order to breathe. He does not deserve forgiveness, even if Lan Wangji is willing to give it, does not deserve his kindness, nor his pity—

He starts to withdraw his hand, swallowing past the lump in his throat as he does, but Lan Wangji holds him fast.

“Wei Ying—”

“Wangye,” he says, struggling feebly against his grip. “You have been nothing but kind, generous and good, and Xian-er is most grateful for your patronage. You have no obligation to—”

“No. Wei Ying, listen to me.” Lan Wangji pulls him close, the hand not holding onto his coming up to rest, trembling, on the side of his face. “I have no intention of taking back what I said. The offer stands, will stand for as long as it takes for you to accept.”

“Lan Zhan…” the name falls from his lips on a shuddering breath. “I will bring you nothing but shame and ridicule—associating with me is a stain upon your honour—I don’t want to drag you down—”

A thumb slides across his jaw to press against his lips, silencing him.

“You will bring me nothing but joy and love,” Lan Wangji tells him, eyes bright with unshed tears. The sight of them sends tremors through Wei Wuxian’s skin and heat prickling int he corners of his eyes. “And I want nothing more than to do the same for you. Anything you want, Wei Ying. Ask it of me, and I will give it to you.”

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and sags with relief, laughing under his breath at his own foolishness. How could he doubt Lan Wangji, when all he has ever been is steadfast and true despite Wei Wuxian’s repeated attempts to make him see otherwise? He turns his head to brush his lips against the palm of Lan Wangji’s hand, smiling as he feels the muscles twitch beneath his touch.

“Lan Zhan,” he murmurs, his heart full to bursting. He opens his eyes as Lan Wangji inhales sharply, meeting his eyes with a heated gaze of his own. “Kiss me.”

Lan Wangji does not need to be told twice, leaning forwards with a muted sound at the back of his throat—his lips tremble, breath stutters against his, damp and salty with tears. But as Wei Wuxian surrenders himself into Lan Wangji’s arms, he knows he would not have it any other way.

ko-fi link and master post on my sidebar :)

#la-belle-et-la-bete #asks #mdzs #wangxian #shattered mirrors au #shattered mirrors fic #wei wuxian #lan wangji #王爷机 X 花魁羡 #courtesan!wwx #prince!lwj #kiss prompt #my writing

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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years

Text

By the Sea Part Seven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Mermaid!Reader

Requested: No (Requests are closed except for a few, see pinned post for details. I also no longer do taglists)

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angst, fluff, drunk Bucky

Description: Y/N is a mermaid that longs for the land. Her friend Natasha tells her that she knows a human who will take care of her and leads her there, she only has one rule: do not under any circumstances fall in love with a human. But Steve’s friend Bucky is drawing her in, in ways she hadn’t expected. Will Y/N be able to return to the ocean once her stay in the human realm is complete? And what happens when Natasha learns that Y/N is betrothed to be married to their king’s son? Will she drag her friend back or keep her hidden amongst the humans?

“I’m opening my own flower shop!” Y/N told Natasha excitedly as she sat on a rock admiring the night sky. “Steve is going to help me get some flowers together, and there’s a free space in the town where I can open it. Steve thinks that it will do very well since we don’t have another flower shop here.”

Natasha smiled, she was happy to see how excited Y/N was over this. “So you finally figured out what you wanted to do with your life here, huh?”

Y/N nodded and looked away from the sky to meet her friend’s gaze, “I did. It’s all thanks to Bucky too. He was the one that gave me the idea. We were in his studio and I asked him how he knew he wanted to be a painter. He told me that it was a part of him, a part of his soul. He asked me what I liked to do and I always did enjoy watching the flowers grow on the island. From there he came up with the idea.”

Natasha took one of Y/N hands in hers, “Y/N, tell me truthfully. Do you have feelings for Bucky?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by Natasha’s question. “We’re friends if that’s what you mean.”

Natasha shook her head, “Y/N, are you falling in love with him?”

Y/N was taken aback by her friend’s question, “You made me promise that I wouldn’t, and I haven’t!”

Natasha sighed, “I know I made you promise not to fall in love, but sometimes love sneaks up on you and takes you by surprise. I know you know why I made you promise not to, but.... I think I was wrong.” Y/N was shocked to hear her friend say this, she hadn’t been expecting it. “Bucky isn’t like the man that betrayed my trust and broke my heart, he’s different. He’s one of Steve’s closest friends and he seems kind-hearted.”

“What are you trying to say, Natasha?” Y/N asked in confusion.

“I’m saying that if you’re falling in love with Bucky, I’d be okay with you breaking your promise to me. And now that I know you want to stay it’s unfair of me to ask you not to fall in love. You’re trying to build a life here and if you wish to marry and fall in love with someone then you have every right to do so. Don’t let my promise stop you from having something great.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, “I don’t know if I’m falling in love with Bucky, but I know I care about him deeply. And I know that I love spending time with him. I can’t imagine not having him in my life.”

Natasha smiled and squeezed Y/N’s hand, “Do you feel this fluttery feeling in your stomach whenever he’s around? Whenever he smiles at you?” Y/N nodded. “Do you find yourself constantly thinking about him or wondering if he’s okay?” Y/N nodded again. “Then I think you’re falling in love with him.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, “Do you think he knows?!” Natasha laughed at her friend’s panicked look. “This isn’t funny!” Y/N cried indigently.

Natasha was still giggling, “No, you’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… I remember these days and Steve went through the same thing with me. Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Men can sometimes be oblivious to our feelings for them. And if he has noticed then it’s not the end of the world. Just let things unfold naturally.”

Y/N chewed on her lip before saying, “Natasha, if he loves me back I’ll have to tell him the truth about what I am won’t I?”

Natasha paused, she hadn’t thought about that. Y/N had a point though. If she were to truly be with Bucky then she would have to tell him the truth. “I think that would be best. You can’t keep something like this from him. You disappear at night to come here to transform, he would get suspicious. Steve can help you tell him if the time ever comes, until that day arrives just try to live in the moment.”

As Y/N walked up the beach that night to get back to Steve’s she thought over her conversation with Natasha about how she was slowly starting to fall in love with Bucky. She didn’t know how it had happened, but she could see it. The two of them had been spending more time with one another since they had first met and he had taken her to the lookout point.

He was sweet and she loved his smile and how he always seemed to paint her. How he didn’t mind her endless questions about art and how she always invaded his studio. He never grew impatient with her or threw her out. In fact, it seemed as if he wanted to spend more and more time with her. Some days he would show up at Steve’s to have breakfast with her.

Steve had watched their budding romance quietly, he knew Natasha might not like it, but he couldn’t bear the thought of tearing the two of them apart. Especially since both of them seemed so happy in one another's company. Even the others had noticed how close they had grown to one another. Steve had even teased Bucky about hearing wedding bells in his future.

Bucky was still in his studio surrounded by the paintings he had done of Y/N in the past few weeks. She was slowly becoming his muse and he loved it when she would smile at him, her whole face seeming to light up. There was something special about her, something that drew him to her.

He knew he was falling in love with her, but he wasn’t sure if she was falling for him as well. He was a little scared to ask her for fear of making things awkward. Clint said that he was being ridiculous and needed to tell Y/N the truth.

Bucky was putting away a new painting of his when the door to his studio opened and Sam entered carrying a bottle of wine. “Come out with us, Bucky,” he began. “You’ve been spending all your time here working on your paintings of Y/N that you haven’t spent much time with us in a while.”

Bucky sighed, “They’re not all of Y/N, you make me sound like a creep.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Whatever, just come out with us. Steve is joining us and it’s going to be a regular old party.”

Bucky sighed, he knew that Sam wasn’t going to take no for an answer, “All right, I’ll come, but I’m not staying out too late. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow. I’m supposed to help Y/N start setting up her shop.”

Sam waved a hand dismissively, “It’ll be fine. Now come one, we’re supposed to meet the others at Isiah’s bar.”

The two of them hurried toward the bar where the others had already started the party. Mugs of beer were passed around and some shots of whiskey were downed. Bucky knew right then and there that he was going to be sorely regretting his choice to come out in the morning.

The others cheered when they saw that Sam had managed to coax Bucky out of his studio and ordered a beer for their friend. As the night passed on more drinks were shared. Finally, Bucky stood, swaying slightly on his feet, “I’m gonna go.” His words were slurred and he rested his hands on the table to keep from falling over. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, boys.”

They cheered as Bucky stumbled away from their table and out the door of the bar. At first, he wasn’t sure where he was going, and then he decided he wanted to see Y/N. He set down the path toward Steve’s home, his mind fuzzy as he walked. He had to tell her that he loved her. Yeah, she had to know how he felt about her.

When he reached Steve’s house he rounded the side toward where the water was. Steve would have given her a room with a view of the ocean beyond. The house was dark and he pouted, was she already asleep? How late was it?

He was just about to shout her name when he heard, “Bucky?” He turned and saw her coming up behind him, a worried look on her face, “Is something wrong?”

He grinned at her, “Y/N!” She knew instantly that something was wrong. “I came to see you.”

As she got closer she could smell the alcohol on his breath, “Are you drunk?”

He waved a hand, “Pssh, no! I’m not drunk, I just had a few drinks with the boys this evening, that's all.”

She shook her head, leave it to the others to intoxicate him and then leave him alone to find his way home. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

She took him inside and began helping him up the stairs, “Y/N, I have something I want to tell you.”

She hummed, “Can it wait until I get you into a bed first?”

They were on the second floor now and he tugged her to a stop, “No! It can’t wait, this is important.” Y/N looked up at him, she watched as he swayed and looked down mumbling something to himself. He took in a deep breath and then looked back at her, “Y/N, I love you.” Y/N paused and took a step back, Bucky frowned. “I knew it, you don’t love me back. I told the others that there was no way, you only saw me as a friend.” He sunk down to the floor, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a child.

Y/N came too from the shock and knelt down in front of him, he wouldn’t look at her, and she wanted to chuckle at how cute he looked when he pouted. “Bucky, look at me.” He shook his head. “Please?” He huffed and met her gaze. “I love you too,” that got him to smile, his wide goofy smile. “But tomorrow when you wake up I want you to tell me again, okay? I want to hear it when you’re not intoxicated.”

He nodded his head enthusiastically, “I will!” She helped him to his feet and into one of the guest rooms, he was even more clingy now and he kept telling her what he loved about her. “I love your eyes, your hair, how smart you are, how you get flustered whenever I ask you to pose for me.”

She covered him up and kissed his forehead, “Get some rest, Bucky. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Y/N?” She paused and turned back to him. “Stay with me?”

She smiled, “Get some rest, Bucky. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He pouted again, but slid under the covers and promptly passed out. Y/N stood in the doorway for a bit to make sure that he was going to be okay before getting into her own bed and trying to go to sleep herself.

In the morning when Bucky woke up he had a massive headache and he didn’t recognize where he was. It took a moment for him to realize that he was in one of Steve’s guest rooms. He hadn’t been awake long before Y/N entered the room carrying a tray with food and some tea. She had just taken care of Steve and informed him that the younger man was here as well. Steve had told her what to bring him to help with his hangover.

“Morning,” she smiled shyly at him, wondering if he remembered their conversation. Steve had explained to her that sometimes people couldn’t remember things from when they were drunk. She wondered if that would be Bucky’s case. “I brought some tea and breakfast.”

Bucky groaned and rubbed his throbbing head, “Please tell me I didn’t do anything embarrassing last night.”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” she teased, which made him want to crawl back under the covers and die.

“What did I say?” He had to know if he had said anything inappropriate.

Her face fell a little and it didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky, “Nothing important. Eat your breakfast while I run a warm bath for you.”

He wanted to stop her to ask her what he had said, but she disappeared into the bathroom before he could do that. He ate quickly and then entered the bathroom where Y/N was checking the water temperature with her hand. “Y/N?” She looked up at him from her spot on the floor. “What did I say?”

She forced a smile, “Nothing important like I said. Don’t worry, most of it was just drunken gibberish.”

He stopped her as she went to leave, “I don’t believe you and I hate the thought that I did or said something to upset you. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Don’t worry Bucky, it wasn’t anything inappropriate or malicious. Just let it go.” She quickly made her escape, leaving Bucky alone in the bathroom.

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader #Bucky Barnes x Mermaid!Reader #Bucky Barnes x Reader fluff #Bucky Barnes x Reader angst #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes angst

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massivedrickhead · 3 years

Note

could you write maybe something about beca and chloe at a farmer's market at their first christmas together as a couple starting up new traditions? like getting hot chocolate, picking ornaments and a tree, stuff like that

Naturally I couldn’t write just normal Christmas fluff, I had to add a bit of angsty hurt/comfort in there. So, trigger warning: alcoholism is mentioned.

Read on AO3

Saturday mornings were Beca’s favourite time of the week for two reasons.

One, she got to sleep through them, catching up on all the sleep she’d lost through the week.

Two, she got to sleep through them with Chloe.

Chloe, the perpetual early bird, the seizer of every moment, had finally relented and given Beca this one lazy morning.

(Beca had tried to get Sunday morning too, but Chloe said she was pushing it.)

So on Saturdays they lay warm and comfortable, wrapped in each others arms, under layers of blankets because they couldn’t keep the heating 24 hours a day, and New York winters were cold.

They’d sleep late, waking up every few hours to exchange lazy kisses, before falling asleep again, eventually waking up to eat a late breakfast (read: lunch).

Except this Saturday was different.

Chloe was tugging the blankets away from Beca, or trying to at least, and telling her to get up and shower or they’d be late.

“Late for what?” Beca mumbled, her grip on the blankets surprisingly strong for 8 am.

“The Christmas market!”

“It is November 28th,” Beca said, incredulously, finally giving up and allowing Chloe to whip the blankets away.

“Exactly! So we need to go buy our decorations if we’re gonna stick to our plan!”

Beca sat up, brows furrowed, hair sticking up at every possible angle.

“I knew that plan would come back to bite me.”

“Come on, up! Up! Up!” Chloe said, each up punctuated by a clap of her hands.

Begrudgingly Beca climbed out of the safety and warmth of bed and made the quick cold dash to the shower. She felt herself relax as the hot water came sputtering out of the shower head and chased away the cold of their bathroom.

Their plan - or Beca and Chloe’s awesome best Christmas ever, as Chloe had dubbed it - had been finalised only a few days before.

It was their first real Christmas living together as a couple that would be spent just the two of them.

Chloe’s mom had video called her and said that as all her kids were grown up now, her and Chloe’s dad would be going on vacation for Christmas from now on.

Chloe had pouted and pleaded but her mom’s mind was made up. She said they had to start making new traditions now that they were getting older, and Chloe should do the same.

Chloe was still miserable when Beca had gotten home from work late that night.

“You know, we could start making our own traditions,” Beca said, trying to coax Chloe out of her bad mood. “That’s the fun part about growing up, right? When you’re a kid you just do what you’ve always done, but when you grow up and you start your new family, you get to try new things. Mix things up a bit. Create new traditions that you get to pass on.”

“I guess,” Chloe mumbled, allowing Beca to put an arm around her and squeeze her into a side hug.

“Come on,” Beca said, squeezing again, “let’s think of some things we can do.”

And so they spent the next hour making their plan.

“The Christmas decorations go up the first weekend in December,” Chloe said, writing the first part of their plan. “So we should buy decorations soon.”

“Okay,” Beca said. “But no lights that make noise or dancing Santas or anything.”

“Agreed,” Chloe said. “How do you feel about flashing lights?” Beca pulled a face. “Me too.”

“Christmas Eve we get take-out,” Beca said, realising this was her only Christmas tradition she wanted to carry over. “Chinese.”

“Sure,” Chloe said. “But you’re skipping ahead. We have a lot of December to fill. Christmas movies every weekend until Christmas Day.”

“Christmas movie,” Beca said. “You get one per weekend.”

“Two,” Chloe said, grinning, knowing she would win any negotiation.

“Fine. One on Saturday, one on Sunday,” Beca said.

“Deal,” Chloe said. “Naturally Christmas music while we decorate.”

“Naturally,” Beca said. “But no Glee cover versions.”

“But-”

“No.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“Christmas sweaters?”

“Sure.”

“Matching?”

“Absolutely not.”

It carried on like that until they had their December planned out. And Beca wouldn’t admit it, but she was actually kind of excited about their first solo Christmas. They had spent last year with Chloe’s family, and the year before they hadn’t been dating so while Chloe had gone home, Beca had hung around in New York with anyone she could find who was still in town.

She’d had no desire to go back to her home town for Christmas for a long time now.

So she was excited to have Christmas plans that she could look forward to.

That was until Chloe had woken her up at 8 am on a Saturday so she could drag her around a Christmas market in New York.

“Is it gonna be crowded?” Beca asked, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee from Chloe as she left their bedroom, now fully dressed.

“Maybe,” Chloe said. “If we get there early enough it shouldn’t be too bad. Plus it’s not even December yet. I think it’ll get busier the longer we leave it.”

“Maybe next year we should do our Christmas shopping in June,” Beca said.

“I know you’re kidding but I promise you my Aunt Cheryl was fully wrapped by August,” Chloe said. “Anyway, don’t worry about the crowds. I’ll make sure you don’t get lost.”

“Okay, take it easy, you’re like an inch taller than me,” Beca said, rolling her eyes.

“If you say so,” Chloe said. “Okay, it opens soon, are you ready to go?”

They left their apartment, made the short but freezing walk to the subway, and about half an hour later they reached their stop.

“Hot chocolate?” Chloe asked, taking holding of Beca’s hand and pulling her towards where the market was set up.

“Good idea,” Beca said, shivering, her breath coming out in white clouds.

Beca looked around while Chloe ordered their drinks. It wasn’t too busy yet, she was glad to see, but she knew it was only likely to stay that way for another few hours. She hoped she’d be back in their apartment by lunch, but Chloe likely had other ideas.

“Here you go,” Chloe said, handing over a cup. “So, where first?”

“Lead the way,” Beca said, gesturing towards the many stalls laid out in front of them.

They spent the next few hours weaving through the crowds as they looked at every stall. Chloe bought them almost matching Christmas sweaters - one for Chloe reading ‘I’m on the nice list’ and one for Beca which said ‘I’m on the naughty list’ - to which Beca had tried to protest.

“Are you telling me you’ve been a good girl this year, Beca? After the noises you made last night?” Chloe asked with a wink, causing Beca to blush furiously and stop complaining.

“I’m not wearing it in public,” Beca muttered.

“Duh, they’re for Christmas Day,” Chloe had replied, pulling her towards another stall that sold Christmas tree ornaments.

Chloe picked up some generic baubles, as well as some that seemed more personal to her. She grabbed a dog, a treble clef, and a teacup.

“Spotted any that speak to you?” Chloe asked.

Beca shrugged, but her eyes were fixed on what looked like a little ornament of a carton of Chinese takeout.

“This one?” Chloe asked.

Beca cleared her throat. “Yeah,” she said, trying to avoid Chloe’s eyes as she picked it up.

“What about the red panda?”

“Oh I didn’t even see him!” Beca said, almost squealing.

“Get the guitar too,” Chloe said, laughing at Beca’s reaction. “Then we have three each.”

“Okay,” Beca said. “I’ll get these, you bought the sweaters. Do you wanna get a star?”

“My Mom is gonna send our old one with some other bits, if that’s okay?”

“Fine with me,” Beca said before she paid and they carried on walking, Chloe’s hand never leaving hers the entire time.

Chloe bought them some lunch once they reached what seemed to be the end of the first half of the market. They still had to walk down the other side so Beca was predicting they’d be here another hour at least.

“Doing okay?” Chloe asked, knowing how much Beca hated crowds.

Beca nodded, loosening the scarf around her neck as they sat at one of the picnic tables set out by the food stalls.”How much longer?”

“We can stop whenever you want, Becs, you know that right?” Chloe asked, looking at her with concern filled eyes.

“I know,” Beca said, smiling, waiting for her Mac and Cheese to cool. “I was just wondering.”

Chloe pulled up the list on her phone and started ticking things off.

“It looks like we’ve got everything we came for. We can head back now if you want?”

“You wanna see the rest though, right?” Beca asked.

“Well, yeah, but I can come back another time.” Chloe said.

Beca shook her head. “I’m good. We can see the rest. Just promise I won’t have to move out of bed until at least noon tomorrow.”

“And that’s different from how you normally spend your Sunday?”

“Sorry, I should have clarified, you’ll need to stay in bed with me.”

“I guess I can agree to that,” Chloe said.

It was a week later and Chloe was dragging their newly purchased tree into their living room, close to the window so it could be seen from outside.

She was wearing a Santa hat, had tinsel wrapped around her neck like a scarf, and was singing along to their Christmas playlist.

Beca was sitting on the arm of the sofa, getting seemingly more and more frustrated as she tried to untangle the lights.

“These are brand-new lights,” Beca muttered. “How are they already tangled?”

“Give them here,” Chloe said. “You just don’t have the magic touch.”

“That’s not what you said last night.”

“Very funny,” Chloe said, holding out her hands for the lights.

Beca handed them over but before she could say anything else, she was cut off by her phone buzzing in her pocket. She pulled it out and sighed, lowering the volume on the music.

“It’s my Mom,” she said, pressing the green button and moving out of the living room and towards the bedroom. “Hey mom.”

Chloe frowned and bit her lip, wondering if she should continue.

This was something they should be doing together, but she also knew Beca usually ended up in a crappy mood after she spoke to her Mom.

Their relationship had been strained for as long as Chloe had known Beca, but she never really found out much about it. Beca didn’t speak about her much, and always clammed up whenever Chloe would ask, even now.

Chloe focused on detangling the lights, but decided she wouldn’t do any of the actual decorating until Beca came back.

It was almost an hour later when Beca came out of their bedroom and dropped onto the sofa beside Chloe.

“You okay?” Chloe asked, looking up from her phone.

Beca gave a non-committal grunt and turned to look at the tree. “You didn’t make much progress. Couldn’t untangle the lights?”

“Please, I did that in like 5 minutes. I wanted to wait for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Beca said, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t mean to take that long but…” Beca shook her head as she trailed off. “It doesn’t matter.” She pulled out her phone and restarted their playlist which had ended while Beca had been talking to her Mom. “Ready to carry on?”

Chloe smiled and nodded, and the two returned to their tree.

When it was decorated with a combination of the new stuff they had bought together, and the old stuff Chloe’s Mom had sent they both stood for a minute, smiling at their handiwork. Chloe’s arms came to wrap around Beca’s waist, her chin resting on Beca’s shoulder.

“I love it,” Chloe said, giving Beca a squeeze and kissing the side of her neck.

“Me too,” Beca said.

The soft white lights wrapped around the tree glowed with warmth against the now dark sky, the streetlights below barely reaching the window of their apartment.

It filled Beca with a feeling of cosiness and contentment that she didn’t usually associate with this time of year. Or any time of year for that matter.

“You know, if you wanted to talk about stuff with your Mom you can?” Chloe said, cautiously, feeling Beca tense beneath her arms.

“I’m good,” Beca said. “What movie are we watching?”

“Elf,” Chloe said, squeezing Beca even tighter.

Two weeks later, Chloe woke up in the middle of the night freezing cold and instinctively reached out for Beca. When her hand met cold sheets instead of Beca’s warm body, she opened her eyes, frowning.

It was then she realised she could hear Beca’s voice coming from the next room. She checked her phone and saw it was almost 2 am.

Frowning, she stepped out of bed and into the living room, pulling on her robe as she went.

“Mom, I can’t have this conversation with you again,” Beca said, pinching the bridge of her nose as she paced the living room. “I’m not in Barden anymore, Mom, I can’t just come over. We’ve been through this, I’m in New York.”

Chloe watched as Beca traced one of the ornaments on their now dark tree with her finger.

“Look, I’m gonna go, okay? It’s late. Yeah. Yeah I know.”

Chloe heard Beca suck in a breath the way she always did when she was trying not to cry.

“I love you too,” Beca said, her voice breaking. She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. “I’m gonna call Grandma tomorrow, okay? She can check on you.”

When she ended the call she jumped as she felt Chloe’s arms wrap around her, but she soon relaxed into her. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Chloe said. She tugged Beca’s hand and pulled her towards the window. “Look, it’s snowing.”

They sat on the floor, the Chloe’s back against the wall, Beca’s back against Chloe’s front, and they looked looked out the window, watching the snow drift down, turning yellow as it fell under the light of the streetlights.

They were quiet for a while until Beca finally spoke.

“She’s drinking again,” Beca said, tapping her phone against her leg. “She’s been calling more and more. Wanting me to go over. She… She’s always had trouble with her short term memory, and it only gets worse when she drinks. She thinks I’m still in Georgia.”

“I’m sorry Becs,” Chloe said. “It must be hard being away from her at times like this.”

Beca sniffed and rested a hand on Chloe’s leg, her thumb brushing against the soft fabric of her pyjamas. “Does it make me a shitty person if I say I’m glad I’m not in Georgia right now?”

“No,” Chloe said. “Of course not.”

“I don’t… I don’t like seeing her like this. It just… It reminds me of being a kid, a while after after they got divorced but before my Mom lost custody. She drank a lot then. Sometimes it was kinda fun. She’d let me skip school and we’d go on these adventures together or we’d stay up late eating pizza and playing video games. And then… It was like flipping a switch. She’d just… change. She used to scare me.”

Chloe’s grip tightened around Beca’s waist, and she pressed her lips into the back of her head.

“She knows I’ll only visit when she’s sober. And maybe that makes me selfish. I know I should be there when she needs me. She’s my Mom. I love her,” Beca said, cutting herself off as her voice broke again.

“I know,” Chloe said, softly, pulling her closer. “You’re allowed to put yourself first. You shouldn’t go back to an environment that’s bad for you. And you’re the least selfish person I know. I love you, so so much.”

“I love you too,” Beca said, wiping her eyes as they continued to watch the snow which had only gotten heavier. “It wasn’t all bad,” Beca said, after a while. “Before she started really drinking, we had some good times together, just the two of us. For years. Christmas Eve was always my favourite day of the year.”

“Chinese takeout?”

“Yeah,” Beca said with a small laugh. “She’d order my favourite and we’d have like a slumber party in the living room, watching movies and drinking hot chocolate. She said if I could stay awake until midnight, I’d be allowed to open one present. I never made it,” Beca said, smiling at the memory. “Even when things were really bad, when her drinking was at its worst, that was the one day that would always be good. Christmas wasn’t really the same when I had to move in with my Dad and Sheila. He tried but I guess I was just too angry and closed off by then.” Beca turned to face Chloe now. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For giving me a proper Christmas. For giving me new traditions and letting me reconnect with old ones. For being you.” She leaned forward to kiss her, and Chloe knelt up to meet her halfway.

“Chlo’ if I’m out of scotch tape can I use masking tape?” Beca called from the bedroom, two days before Christmas.

“No,” Chloe called back from the living room. Beca’s last present for Chloe had finally arrived, so she had spent the last few hours locked in their bedroom wrapping presents.

“I have more clear tape,” Chloe said, rummaging in a kitchen drawer until she found some.

“Don’t come in!” Beca said, in a panicked voice. She opened the door and quickly closed it behind her.

“Here,” Chloe said. “Are you gonna be much longer? I’m bored.”

“Almost done,” Beca said, returning to their bedroom and shutting the door.

“Here you go,” Chloe said, handing Beca her container of take-out Chinese and a pair of chopsticks.

“Thank you,” Beca said, grinning as she dug in. Chloe set two mugs of hot chocolate down on the coffee table, and pressed play on Netflix.

“Thank you for tolerating all my movies this month,” Chloe said, smiling as the opening music for Home Alone played.

“This one gets a free pass. It’s a classic.”

“I agree.”

“So,” Beca said, swallowing a mouthful of orange chicken. “If I stay up until midnight do I get to open a present early?”

“Sure,” Chloe said, grinning. “But you’ve been yawning since 6:30, I don’t think you’re gonna make it.”

To her credit, Beca lasted until 10:30 pm, falling asleep with 20 minutes to go in Home Alone 2.

When Chloe switched the movie off, the only light in the room was coming from the tree and the string of fairy lights around their window. She thought that Beca looked beautiful in the soft glow of the lights, her face relaxed and free of the stress she had been carrying around the last few weeks.

Still, she was a little disappointed she hadn’t made it until midnight, there was one gift she had wanted to give her tonight.

The next morning, Chloe tried to coax Beca out of bed at 7 am, with promises of coffee and pancakes for breakfast, but Beca would not budge.

“But it’s Christmas morning,” Chloe pouted.

“It’ll still be Christmas morning in an hour,” Beca mumbled, tugging Chloe back to bed, and curling around her to stop her moving again. “You don’t need to be up so early, you’re not 6.”

“And you don’t need to sleep all morning, you’re not 15.”

“Touche,” Beca mumbled. “Merry Christmas by the way.”

“Merry Christmas,” Chloe said, grinning.

After another 40 minutes of dosing in bed, Beca finally let Chloe drag her up.

They ate breakfast in their Christmas pyjamas, and then, at Chloe’s request, they got dressed in their almost-matching sweaters and took a selfie in front of their tree.

As they exchanged gifts, they both got increasingly more nervous. Something neither of them realised as they were too preoccupied with their own nerves to be focused on the other person.

“I, um, actually have one more for you,” Beca said, standing. “Two seconds.” She moved into the bedroom.

“Yeah, I do too,” Chloe said, reaching towards the back of the tree where the final present was hidden.

After a few minutes of silence, Beca spoke up from the bedroom.

“Chlo’, can you come in here for a minute?”

Chloe suddenly got a weird feeling in her stomach, and the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile.

“Actually Beca, I kinda need you in here,” Chloe said.

There was a small silence.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“It can’t wait?”

“No.”

Another small silence.

“Meet halfway?” Beca asked.

“Okay,” Chloe said. She stood from where she was in the living room and moved so she was in front of the window.

Beca left the bedroom, something held behind her back, and she walked until she was standing in front of Chloe.

Without a word, they both dropped to one knee.

“Chloe Beale.”

“Rebeca Mitchell.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Will you marry me?”

“Duh.”

They both laughed and kissed until they had to stop, happy tears streaming down both of their faces.

“I know we haven’t been officially together that long,” Beca said, wiping her eyes as she slid the ring onto Chloe’s finger. “But you’re my soulmate. I don’t ever want to be with anybody else.”

“I love you so much, Beca. I feel like I waited my whole life for you,” Chloe said, sliding the ring onto Beca’s finger. “I want spend the rest of it with you.”

“Best Christmas ever,” Beca said, still laughing and crying.

“Almost as good as the year we got a Wii,” Chloe said, earning a smack on the arm from Beca.

“I love you.”

“Love you more.”

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moonflowerlesbians · 3 years

Note

Or #22 for Dani & Jamie please !

Many apologies for this taking a hot minute. I started it to help with writers block and then it gave me more. Whoops. Also included here, prompt #35 from another anon.

This probably isn’t what you had in mind, but not to worry, angst is coming in another prompt.

You can also read this and my other prompt-fills here.

~~~

Drunk Jamie is a sight to behold.

It’s a rare and beautiful thing that Dani is sure to treasure on the infrequent occasions Jamie allows herself to fall and trusts Dani enough to catch her. To see Jamie inebriated is sacred, or, at least, Dani thinks so. Because she is the only one who’s seen Jamie drunk, face flushed and carefree laughter spilling from her lips. She’s vulnerable here, alcohol having eroded the rings of fearsome walls she’s built around her life, trusting Dani to protect her from any threats. She’s softer, more relaxed.

It’s a good look on her, Dani thinks.

They’re in the back room of The Leafling, reclining, legs propped up, on the ratty sofa they found at the second-hand store not three weeks prior. The shop is quiet, the doors locked and the lights shut off. The plants sit in baskets and pots and displays placed perfectly to suit their needs. Empty drink trays decorate the countertop, a problem for tomorrow.

“You did it.” Dani stares at the ceiling, her heart warm. Jamie’s back is pressed comfortably against her front, and Dani twirls a strand of brown hair between her fingers as crickets chirp outside. The world is at peace.

“We did,” Jamie hums. “We bloody did it. Business owners, the both of us.” She barks a laugh and nuzzles her head into Dani’s collarbone.

They’d just concluded a soft opening party for the shop. Small business owners and potential clients had wandered racks of Jamie’s precious plantlings as the woman herself flitted nervously on the outskirts to avoid the shower of compliments. Dani had done most of the talking, offering up hors d’oeuvres and baked goods. As it turned out, despite her hot drink deficiency, she’s a rather decent baker.

“Oh, these are just lovely!” Mrs. Windham from the bookstore down the way, had said, gushing over a bouquet of hydrangeas.

“All Jamie,” Dani had proclaimed proudly.

“Well, she has quite the gift.”

“Doesn’t she?” Jamie had met her eye from across the room, sipping on her second -- or third -- glass of champagne, and offered a small smile.

Dani doesn’t begrudge her the drinks. Jamie has never been much of a people person, and who is Dani to judge if alcohol makes socialising just a bit less nerve-wracking? Besides, a buzzed Jamie is quite endearing, if Dani’s being honest.

This is the part where Dani shines, in any case. Making connections comes naturally to her, or, at least, more naturally than it does for Jamie. Being a teacher, she had to be good at it. She always had a knack for cracking the toughest students, much to the bewilderment of her colleagues.

Half the time, the kid was just lonely. Needed someone to talk to. Dani could relate.

It’s a skill that’s served her well in life and in her relationships.

Jamie stirs, and Dani wrinkles her nose, spluttering as brunette curls invade her mouth.

“Hey, easy there-” she finds herself silenced by a bruising kiss. “Um,” she blinks up at Jamie, who’s looking down at her with a dopey smile, “hello?”

“Why’re you dressed like that?” Jamie drawls.

Dani surveys her outfit, though her investigation lacks scope on account of her incredibly attractive girlfriend straddling her lap. “Um. Does that mean it looks good, or should I change?”

Jamie avoids the question. “I’m rather fond of you, you know.” Her breath smells of cheap champagne.

“It’d be kind of awkward if you weren’t. We’re in pretty deep, you know,” Dani mimics, and Jamie’s faces scrunches in disapproval.

“That was bad. That was bloody awful, Poppins.” Jamie rolls off her to lean against the opposite arm of the chair, and Dani finds herself missing the weight. It’s nice feeling safe enough to have someone so close that even inches of separation are a loss.

“You never answered the question.”

Jamie hums. “You never answered mine.”

“You’re cocky when you’ve been drinking, you know that?”

“And you’re right beautiful all the time.”

Dani pauses mid-retort, her mouth open slightly. Jamie stares at her from across the couch, that damn cheeky smirk on her face.

“Quite alright there, Poppins?” Her voice is just above a whisper, sultry and mischievous. Leaning in, “Look a little flushed.”

“I...you…”

Jamie studies her fingernails. “Out with it, darling. Haven’t got all night.”

“I...I’m fond of you, too.” Dani manages. “Even when you’re lying.”

Jamie feigns outrage, hand coming up to clasp her chest. “Never lied a day in my life. ‘Specially not to my favorite person in the bleedin’ world, who also happens to be the most lovely woman I ever laid eyes on.” She runs her hands up Dani’s calves.

Dani scoffs, gently shoving her off. “‘Never lied’ my backside, but I’ll let it slide just this once, and only because you’re knackered.”

“Am not,” Jamie replies petulantly, then promptly yawns. She freezes. Dani raises an eyebrow. “Christ, betrayed by my own fucking body. Knew I never liked you,” she says to her stomach for no discernable reason. “Gone and ruined my whole plan.”

“Your plan?”

“Meant to woo you.”

“I’m sorry,” Dani laughs, “that was your attempt at being sexy?”

“Oi,” Jamie pouts, “thought I was doing a marvelous job, thank you very much. You’d’ve been properly smitten. Irresistible, I am.”

“Yes, right, of course,” Dani coughs, “consider me thoroughly wooed.”

“Aha! See that, ladies and gents? That’s how it’s done.” She gestures around the empty back room to her invisible audience, which Dani assumes is giving a standing ovation. She joins in, her solo bout of applause echoing too loudly in the space.

“Hey, Casanova. This plan of yours have an endgame?”

Jamie cuts her sweeping bow short. “‘Course. Can’t rile you up with nowhere to go. No fun in that.”

“And your goal was…” Dani prompts, sensing a trend. “To flirt me into bed with you?”

“Forgive me for wanting to romance my business partner to celebrate our smashing success.”

“Business partner, huh? Not sure how the laws work back in England, but here in the States, we have rules against sexual activity in the workplace.”

“Best get out of the workplace then, yeah?” Jamie’s eyes are dark.

“Yeah,” Dani breathes. She has half a mind to pin Jamie to the couch then and there. Not to go any further than, perhaps, a heated make out session. Not with Jamie in this state. But before the thought can fully evolve, Jamie’s face splits into another massive yawn.

Dani sighs affectionately and gets to her feet. “C’mon,” she says, holding out her hand for Jamie to take, “let’s go home.”

Jamie stands, a little shaky at first, but she’s stable as Dani gathers their things. Side by side, they walk the few blocks to their apartment. The night air is cool against Dani’s face, and the chill sobers Jamie enough that her promiscuity seems to settle. By the time they unlock the front door, she’s blinking sleepily at Dani, who guides her into the bathroom and starts the shower.

It’s odd to see Jamie like this, Dani thinks. She’s soft, pliant beneath Dani’s steady hands undressing her. The pensive silence is common enough, but this feels gentle, more open, somehow. The intimacy is of a kind Dani never imagined she would experience, and neither, she assumed, had Jamie. It speaks to the immense chasms they’ve breached on bridges of trust. That they are able to concede control of their bodies with a blanket confidence that they are safe. They are safe, and they are protected.

It’s a bond Dani treasures, and one she hopes will last a lifetime. Two, if she has anything to say about it.

Jamie steps into the shower with a washcloth, and Dani sets about laying a folded pair of flannel pants and an old t-shirt on the bed. When she returns, Jamie wears a towel and an adoring expression. Dani tilts her head, confused.

“Meant what I said earlier. About you being beautiful.” She is deliberately earnest.

It’s difficult to feel beautiful when your body doesn’t feel like your own. When you prepare to look in the mirror each morning and wonder if you’ll recognize yourself. When the face that’s stared back at you your whole life has changed, and a brown eye is a reminder that you aren’t in control. Dani is learning, though. Slowly.

And she knows Jamie wouldn’t lie, especially drunk Jamie. She lacks the capacity to be anything but adorably honest, despite her admirable attempts at seduction.

Unable to put her thoughts into words, Dani cups Jamie’s jaw, brushing away droplets that trickle from damp curls, and kisses her sweetly.

“To bed with you,” Dani says, shooing her into the next room. Jamie manages to steal three more kisses along the way. She tastes of the mint toothpaste she’d used in the shower. “Come on now, PJs are on the bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She thinks she hears Jamie murmur, and Dani can’t contain her eye roll. The situation isn’t unlike the bedtime antics of a child, and the mental picture of her grown partner in footie pajamas evokes a chuckle. She tucks that image away for later.

Helping the shirt over Jamie’s head from behind, Dani presses a fleeting kiss to the scar on her shoulder, a silent observance of the vulnerability they’ve cultivated. Jamie had never hidden her burn, choosing instead to spin her tale of woe before the story came up organically. Much, much later, curled in darkness beneath motel sheets, she had whispered her insecurity and given voice to the resulting shame around feeling self-conscious at all.

Dani makes sure to pay special attention to the area during all subsequent explorations, noting each ridge and pockmark like a cartographer charting new terrain.

She peels back a corner of their duvet, allowing Jamie to climb in.

Jamie clings onto her arm, pulling her in as well. “Please don’t leave me,” she frowns.

“I don’t want to go, but, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m still wearing my party outfit.”

“Hard not to notice when you’ve been teasing me with it all evening,” Jamie sighs, a little sad, a little longing.

Dani swats her playfully. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right there.”

“Can’t properly get to sleep without you, now can I?” Jamie grumbles, but rolls over nonetheless.

Evidently, she can.

By the time Dani slips into sleep clothes and finishes brushing her teeth, Jamie’s breathing has evened out. Dani tucks herself in beside her and drapes an arm across Jamie’s hips.

They’ve built this life together, the two of them. They’ve got an apartment and a small business and more plants than they know what to do with. They’ve got postcards stuck to the fridge and a rickety heater and several throw pillows that Jamie claims to hate but cuddles with when Dani isn’t looking. And, sure, the back left stove burner only works half the time, and maybe the lock on the front door seems to hate Dani’s key in particular, but this is their home, and theirs alone.

Not a foster home, not the O’Mara’s, not the Wingraves’.

Theirs.

Dani revels in the thrill of it all. She’s still scared out of her wits, certainly, but, Dani has found, it’s infinitely more difficult to be scared when the person you love most in the world sleeps soundly beside you on sheets you chose together.

She takes in this feeling, savors this comfort for when the clouds next block the sun.

Whatever comes next, she is not alone.

#my painkillers wore off and so did my ability to write apparently #oh well #I hope you like this!#the haunting of bly manor #dani clayton #jamie #dani x jamie #jamie x dani #haunting of bly manor #Bly Manor fanfic #fic #writing #my writing #prompt fill #damie #damie fanfic #fanfic #the haunting of Bly Manor fanfic #bly manor

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snowdropsandtigers · 3 years

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Post-Season One Rewatch Miscellany

Okay I think details are already fading even though I finished in three days, so let’s try to get some thoughts down.

- Vic’s initial coping mechanism is art. After that scares her father, and with her meeting with Manx looming ahead, that’s when she chooses to cope via drinking to forget. Later on, it’s similar; she’s helpless to do anything when she thinks her only way to fight is gone, so she turns to drinking and stops trying to make her family relationships okay. She doesn’t cope well with being helpless, and the drastically worse situation she’s in when Manx becomes aware of her existence pushes her into the things she was trying to avoid. It’s also something she can do with Craig, who she always valued, but earlier thought of as too busy with weed for her. He’s her only real, unconditional support at the time, as she’s become more isolated due to her family crumbling and her boyfriend inadvertently pushing her away.

- On that note; normally I get at least a little unhappy when you have a story in which the main girl doesn’t want someone who’s pining for her and then realizes he’s great, and on my initial watch it did surprise me a little. This time around I still feel a little pang over Drew, mostly over how it foreshadows what she’ll lose later, but I really do like how there’s no judgment in any of it. There’s nothing to say she needed to choose differently at the start, or that she should be judged based on her ability to select a man. She just wanted to be with someone who was there for her at the right time, who she valued, and who wouldn’t abandon her the way everyone else had one way or another. Also, he was a genuinely nice guy who never gave her a hard time over his feelings. I felt for him all right during my first watch, but now I really like him in much the same way as I really like Lou.

- It’s just so awful to watch Vic’s hopes and dreams crumble throughout the season. She tried so hard for everyone that in the end she couldn’t see herself following up on that for her own sake. Of course she didn’t feel like she could go to art school, given the responsibility she felt she had already failed in to protect people, and the baby that was all she had left of her best friend. She didn’t feel like the same person who wanted to go, and she’d feel like the person she was trying to escape becoming—a disappointment to her loved ones (Craig in not saving him), and pregnant before she could find a life of her own. All of that would build up over the years until by next season, unable to find and save kids from Christmasland for years, she feels she’s just as ruined and hopeless as Charlie says she is.

- Relatedly, as on my first watch, I continue to appreciate the irony in how much Charlie ruins and damages what he claims to love and want to protect. He destroyed families and stole children’s futures, and we watch him traumatize Vic long before he decides he’s going to hurt her. We watch him watch her suffering over Maggie and it doesn’t get through to him whatsoever, anymore than Jolene could get through when she actually tried. We watch an episode where Bing, who he hires to hurt people, abducts and sexually assaults her while Charlie discusses her purity with a guy who, even with his own misogyny, seems more clearheaded in his lack of a madonna/whore complex. (Sure, he didn’t ask for that to happen, but that’s the kind of thing he did encourage Bing to do, and he even validates it later. It’s a natural consequence of his words and actions.) Given everything in the season, it looks like Vic would have been well on her way to escaping Haverhill like she wanted, without having ever tasted alcohol or weed first, if not for his effect on her life. It may not be a certainty, and of course none of that made her a bad person like he said, but he did definitely push her in that direction at an important turning point in her life. I haven’t gotten that far into the book, but I keep remembering the line “what Charlie Manx couldn’t do, she did to herself.” (Or something almost exactly that.) This holds true for the show, and it’s also so true of the man himself. We see that with him and Jolene too, with her desperately wanting to believe in him, him being unable to give her a reason to, and the way he doubled down on it by trying to kill her right after. We’ll see more of that in season two. There are immensely sympathetic reasons for him to be messed up and do the wrong thing , just as with Vic,* but we can also see how his opportunities to have the things he wanted become lost, as with her. I love how he and Vic are narrative foils in this story about both how suffering can inform you and limit your choices—taking into account that limits which “only” exist in your head are still very real—and how your choices are your own. It’s very satisfying to me. A good pair of foils is just…neat.

- Speaking of! Vic has so many foils. Her father, her mother, as a parent. Her own son as the victim Charlie does successfully (if temporarily) take away, where he failed with her. Maggie, as the girl who was hunting Charlie before Vic wanted to, and the girl who wants to try for a normal life just when Vic is newly determined and desperate to hunt him with her. Jolene, who got to meet him before he showed himself as who he chose to be and had to do the hunting on her own. Bing, who we meet as someone who shares her desire to escape his current life circumstances. And Millie. The other daddy’s girl. All throughout the season we watch Vic lose faith in her father, and I couldn’t help thinking, when the calls from Christmasland started, of how Millie would go through the same thing next season. They barely interact and they don’t have a relationship, but I am absolutely fascinated by the fact that Millie goes down a similar path, that her own connection to her mother got her calling on Vic for help and gave Vic help in return, and that she must be feeling some things about how her father let her walk into the world alone, but also what she did led to his death. Not wholly unlike how at the same time, Vic is still disillusioned with her own father and watches him be murdered before she can offer him forgiveness or the hope of reconciliation. That is a wonderful mess of feeling and potential narrative fodder.

- When I heard this wasn’t getting renewed, I tried to look on the bright side. At least it wouldn’t get awful, which it still had the potential to do, and it could remain a story I loved. But damn, I rarely vibe with a show the way I do with this one; not even with shows I love do I tend to feel as on the same wavelength as I felt with NOS4A2. So many other things have gotten renewed that are less good, that don’t try to do as much with their characters, or that I just plain don’t care about as much. Whether or not things would’ve gone badly in the end, this show deserved the chance to keep trying. It’s hard to explain, but as a whole it felt unique, unlike much of the television I’ve seen over the years. The show it reminds me the most of is Buffy; mainly in their protagonists, which is the thing I love best about both shows, but also the blend of the personal and the supernatural, the grounding of the supernatural in real life. (After making this observation on my own when watching the first time, I discovered that Vic’s original creator, Joe Hill, said he thought of her as a Buffy in a different time of her life. I love finding connections between my favorite stories, but finding that it was also a connection the writer was making, and the influence is there, was very pleasing.) But it’s very much its own thing. I would’ve loved to see more of it. In the unlikely event that someone has gotten this far and not seen it because it was cancelled, or left it unfinished for the same reason—I’ve seen a couple say that over the last six months or so—I’d encourage you to not let that be a factor! It’s very complete as it is, and rewarding in how it unites characters with themes. I could’ve done with so much more of it.

*I truly appreciate how sympathetic this show is with everyone. Everyone. Every major character is framed as someone to feel empathy for at one point or another, and this is true for most, if not all, of the minor characters too, if I remember this right. We’re asked to carry that empathy when we look at them, when we look at the story as a whole. This show is so stressful and yet so kind, so empathetic. In my opinion, it is so stressful in part because it’s kind and empathetic, because you feel so much for the people who are suffering. I could feel that, and that’s part of my love for it.

#nos4a2 #text post #text #I just love it so much #😭#meta #my meta #I guess #this isn’t supposed to be some formal thing. It’s just my personal blog about my feelings and thoughts that you can read because I want to #BTVS #buffy summers #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy #not very present but she does show up and that connection does matter to me #I really hope this shows up well because as if this week I have no laptop and had to post it on my phone

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freshtomatoesddd · 3 years

Text

A TyZula Fanfic i wrote to avoid burnout.

A fanfic inspired by Lewin's Hyperventilation.

Ty Lee has always had difficulty breathing whenever she was mentally or physically overwhelmed, often hyperventilating. When she was a young girl, this was never much of a problem, as her life was comfortable. But as soon as she turned fifteen, her father chose to ship his kids to America for their senior education. As such, Ty Lee arrived in a foreign country with her sisters, realizing her life would never be the same. Having no real way to cope, Ty Lee would often leave home for long stretches of time, doing whatever it was she felt like doing. In high school, however, she fitted in quite well with her spoiled peers. She did so well, Ty Lee was awarded a position in Azula's posse. Confident and well put together, the young girl had difficulty not falling for teenage Azula, and their relationship soon evolved past platonic relations.

Five years later, Ty Lee found herself back in America at some reunion party her father made her attend, stuck in an old bar with people she'd rather not meet again. Mai couldn't come, leaving her with Azula. Through gritted teeth, Ty Lee allowed Azula to follow her back to her hotel, angst following suit. If you're interested, read after the cut off. :p

HYPERVENTILATION

An enigma, that was the best way Ty Lee could describe Azula. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know her, for it was only after high school did they grow out of touch. But graduating did that to people, especially if one made it a point to leave their past behind and start anew, away from the people and environment which brought one so much misery in the first place. And so, Ty Lee questioned why she had agreed to come to the high school reunion, the bar chalk full of people she had wished to never see again. Not that she despised them, she just wished they wouldn’t have showed up. But then again, she knew that it was her fault for accepting the invitation and for actually presenting herself in the stuffy, old looking bar.

A part of her wished she never opened her mail that day, begging and praying that by some miracle she hadn’t seen the invitation sticking out of her mailbox like a sore thumb. But another part of her knew that it was pointless to complain of it now, most definitely after she made the effort to dress herself and show up to an otherwise unremarkable party. It was lively, yes, but Ty Lee saw no need to further rub elbows with her former classmates. She didn’t even bother to drink, as the rather loud and cramped bar hadn’t given her the impression that such an occasion was one to celebrate.

“Why aren’t you drinking?” a voice called out to her.

The brunette looked up; met with the same golden gaze she had grown accustomed to throughout the years—the same person who caused her train of thought in the first place. Azula didn’t bother to drink herself, though she’d never been much of an alcohol enthusiast.

The brunette fiddled her thumbs for a moment, unsure of what to say, nor how to feel. Her juvenile crush had faded, but some feelings still remained. Not passionate by nature, but warm nonetheless... But this wasn’t high school, and Ty Lee soon found her words.

“I guess I just don’t feel like it.” Ty Lee leaned against their booth; eyes still fixed on her former classmate.

“Strange, I assumed you would be one to enjoy the bite of alcohol.”

Ty Lee shrugged, giving Azula a polite smile. “Guess I’m just not feeling it today.”

Azula stared at her for few more moments, Ty Lee counting down the seconds before she turned away. Even after five years, she was the same old intense Azula. But Ty Lee would be lying if she said she hadn’t grown more mature, crimson lipstick running along her lips. She made it a point to look professional, wearing quiet a business-looking pair dress pants and sweater, accompanied with a suit and black watch. How very boring, lacking the distinctly fiery aura Azula once bore back in high school. But along her dull outfit, Ty Lee caught a glimpse of gold on her finger, her ring finger. There was no mistaking it, that was a ring, Ty Lee uncertain how to feel about it.

Of course she’d be married, or at least engaged. Someone of her status and importance would practically be married off by the time they graduated high school, especially with Azula’s rather traditional father. For so long, he insisted she mingle with only the best, most prestigious group of people he chose for her, including her potential spouses. Being a conservative man, Ozai insisted Azula to marry men. But Ty Lee and Mai both knew she didn’t have any type of fancy for them, describing the entire male species as a ‘collective of lecherous creatures.’ But seeing as she had a ring on her finger, her father’s wishes finally got the better of her, though Ty Lee doubted she had any say in it.

“You’re awfully silent, did college finally calm you down?” Azula asked.

“Uh.” Ty Lee paused. “Actually, I think I’m gonna go.”

Azula was silent for a moment. “You mentioned you were staying near China-town.”

“Yeah.” Ty Lee scratched the back of her head, unsure of whether she should disclose her hotel location to Azula. “What about it?”

“Do you have any other plans for the evening?”

Ty Lee shrugged. “Not really.”

“Splendid, I’ll accompany you back to your hotel then.”

“What—why?” She gripped the fabric of her dress, her mouth agape.

Ty Lee’s eyes widened, taken aback by the suggestion. Though, she knew Azula well enough to know that her suggestion was a command, and that there was no use in arguing her out of it. Still, she was rather shocked.

“Who knows?” Azula stood up, grabbing her suit. “Call it a whim.”

Ty Lee narrowed her gaze, standing up not long after as she put on her overcoat and purse.

“Um, okay. But I’m not staying at the fanciest hotel, so sorry if it kinda sucks.”

“Very well,” was all Azula said.

They promptly exited the bar together, a few people whining and asking them to stay longer. Ty Lee nodded and smiled, stating that she really must go, otherwise she would wake up late for her flight. Azula, however, did not bother with pleasantries. She merely followed her outside, buttoning up her suit as they stepped out.

The cold air rudely greeted them, a quick chill running down Ty Lee’s spine. She wondered why she chose to wore a dress to the reunion, and heels as well, knowing full well that ice and snow were soon to follow the chilly cold. Well, at least she looked good, and that was all that mattered to the brunette then. She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, ordering a taxi over, the two left standing in the freezing streetside.

“Unbelievable, you still have the same phone case.” Azula smirked. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Ty Lee looked down to her phone case. Yes, it was true, she didn’t bother to change it past high school. She fiddled with the bunny’s ear, the street lights illuminating the star shaped stickers on the back of it. It was pink, her favorite color, the same one as her dress at that. The brunette turned to her former classmate, a small smile on her face.

“Well, it’s still cute.”

“Perhaps.”

Azula re-adjusted her watch, her golden ring shining form the street lights. It shone almost like the sun on a winter morning, nearly blinding Ty Lee had she not squinted her eyes. She wondered what sort of a man Azula was married to, whether he was present in her daily life, or more likely absent. She wondered of whether their union was completely orchestrated by Ozai, or if Azula at least had some say in which man she’d spend the rest of her life with. And most of all, amid all her thoughts and queries, she wondered if Azula herself had changed. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. The last time they spoke, she wouldn’t allow Ty Lee to even run her hands up Azula’s shirt.

But now, it seemed that she had a better hold of herself, perhaps even able to handle the hourly stress of running a company like her father always hoped. But then again, Azula had always been amazing at projecting her best qualities, not allowing her weaknesses to show. That was who she was then, Ty Lee wondering if that was who she was now too. She looked the part of a well put together adult, only at age twenty-three, but Ty Lee wondered whether she had the emotional maturity of keeping the role. Whether her demeanor was nothing more than a facade, or if it were her true self. Such questions only confused Ty Lee, the brunette turning away to rub her temple.

“How long till the taxi comes?” Azula asked.

Ty Lee looked back to her, striking golden eyes piercing the brunette’s being. “Five minutes.”

Azula stared at her for a moment. “I hope you don’t think I’m pursuing you.”

“Yeah well,” Ty Lee clutched her purse, “Why else would you talk to me?”

“Is it so hard to believe I enjoy your company?”

“What kind of company?”

Azula chuckled. “Lee, what we had in high school has long passed.”

“I know.” Ty Lee pursed her lips. “Especially since you stopped talking to me.”

Azula scoffed. “How are you still upset about that?”

“How could I not be?”

Azula’s eyes widened for a brief moment. “I see you’ve become more vocal. Tell me, do you still hyperventilate?”

Ty Lee sighed, gripping her purse once more. “Why do you care?”

Azula fell silent for a moment, taking a few steps towards Ty Lee.

“Seeing as you’ve seen right through me, fine—I’ll be honest. I am pursuing you, but I won’t drag it out like I did in high school. It will only be one time, that’s all.”

“That’s what you always said.” Ty Lee turned away, praying for the taxi to arrive faster.

Azula placed a hand on her shoulder, the brunette flinching under her touch. The woman chuckled.

“You’re still sensitive when I touch you.”

Ty Lee gripped her hand. “Just get to the point.”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed by the number of times you’ve stared at me.” She paused. “I’m getting married, to a man I’ve never met at that. Father says that it would be beneficial for the company if we merge our assets together, though I’m certain he just wants me married off.”

Azula leaned in, whispering into Ty Lee’s quivering ear. “In light of that, I’d like to enjoy my freedom while I still have it.”

Though she felt bad that Azula would be forced to marry someone she’s never met, Ty Lee still faced the other way.

“Why does it have to be me?” she asked in a low voice.

Azula slowly trailed her warm hand down Ty Lee’s arm, snaking her arm around the brunette’s cold waist, Ty Lee now forced to stare at her former friend. Though her face bore a rather blank stare, Ty Lee could tell through her golden eyes that Azula wasn’t as excited as she initially thought. She wasn’t lying, this really would be her last chance at enjoying the little freedom she had.

“Because there’s no one else like you,” was all Azula said, the woman gently dragging her fingers along the brunette’s cold cheek.

Ty Lee bit her lip. She hated the idea of it, all of it, but she was sold either way.

“Just this once,” she muttered.

Hey there, thanks for reading all of that! If you want to keep reading the fanfic, i've already uploaded the 2nd chapter here Anyway, thanks again for reading the fanfic, and i hope you have a wonderful day.

-FreshTomatoesdevilish

#tyzula #ty lee #azula avatar #princess azula #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla fanfic #fanfiction #azula x ty lee #I don't know how to tag #Is there anything else i should add?#uh i don't think so

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dimigex · 3 years

Text

Healing Hands, Chapter Seven

New chapter is up and I’m so excited to say it’s a start of the new arc!

You can find it on Fanfiction and Archive (linked for your convenience). But, here’s a snippet. The full chapter was over 8k words, so please find it on one of the other sites if you want to read the rest!

After nearly a month of careful inquiries, disappointing viewings, and unreasonable prices, Sakura found an apartment. The process had been about what she'd expected, though the selection left a lot to be desired. Sakura had wanted somewhere closer to the hospital than her parents house, but in a different building from Kazuko's. She'd formed an uneasy truce with the man over the past few weeks by ignoring what happened between them. There had been no more dinners or mixed-up, alcohol-fueled kisses in the dark, only professionalism.

Sakura found it easy to shift from budding friendship to simple coworkers, and Kazuko didn't question it. She was thankful for that much at least, because, regardless of their extracurricular problems, Sakura and Kazuko worked well together at the hospital. She didn't depend on him as much as she might have before things changed, but at least it wasn't awkward any longer.

The majority of Sakura's free time had been spent looking for an apartment, then getting her life in Konoha settled. She had taken Naruto out for ramen one night and was surprised to find that the boy had matured in the time they'd spent apart. He'd been busy with missions in an attempt to bolster his number of completed missions. Naruto needed to catch up if he wanted to be considered for Hokage in a few years when Kakashi retired. It was nice to know that his dream hadn't faded, especially when so many other things had changed.

Naruto and Sakura's conversation had turned to Sasuke at one point during dinner, but Naruto read the situation and dropped it after a couple of awkward questions. The night had gone better than Sakura thought it would, and they'd agreed to meet up every few weeks to stay in touch. Naruto spent a lot of time in and out of the village with missions these days, but he promised to make an effort to see Sakura, especially if it involved ramen. Some things would never change.

Smiling to herself, Sakura fussed over the pillows on the couch. They weren't the color that she would have chosen, but they complemented the rest of the room. Mebuki had picked them out on their latest shopping trip. Her mother's touch was obvious in each of the rooms, but Sakura hadn't resisted, even when she disagreed. Mebuki needed to feel like she still had a place in Sakura's life and the colors didn't bother her that much. Besides, she could "lose" the pillows later if she wanted to.

A knock on the door drew Sakura away from her contemplations. Taking a deep breath, she finished adjusting the cushions and went to answer. Sakura was both looking forward to having Ino over, and nervous about it at the same time. The girls had talked only a couple of times over the past few weeks, mostly commiserating about how hard being an adult was. Then, they'd laughed about being considered adults. Rebuilding her friendship with Ino felt natural, normal even.

When Sakura opened the door, Ino stepped into the tiny space and looked around with a telling curl on her lips. When her gaze came back to Sakura's face, however, the blond's smile was falsely bright. "It's cute."

Sakura groaned at the fake optimism and closed the door. "Is it bad?"

Ino didn't answer for a long moment, looking around the room with a calculating expression. Then, she nodded as if she'd reached some decision. "Are you allowed to paint?"

"I think so," Sakura answered, raising her shoulders in a shrug. "I'll have to check the lease."

True to her promise, Mebuki had helped Sakura decorate when she moved in two days ago. Candles, photographs, and trinkets filled the space in a way that Sakura never would have considered on her own. It almost felt like a home, or would soon enough. Only a few hours before Ino arrived, Mebuki had appeared with half a dozen bags in hand. The new throw pillows on the couch and the towels in the bathroom were a reminder of her mother's attention to detail.

It wasn't until Sakura moved her things into the larger space that she realized how few personal items she'd accumulated over the years. Thankfully, the apartment had basic furniture; Sakura didn't own any. A picture of her much younger self and the rest of Team Seven grinned at Sakura from a table beside the door. Half a dozen other snapshots surrounded it. Medical textbooks that Tsunade had gifted to her were tucked into a basket beside the couch. A bowl of bright fruit sat on the table.

"We can fix it," Ino declared, placing her bags beside the couch. After a moment, the blond turned to face Sakura, a devious grin sliding onto her lips. "So, who is he?"

Frowning, Sakura tried to follow the mental leap from talking about the apartment to whatever this was. "Who is who?"

Ino reached into one of the bags and pulled out a bottle of wine and matching glasses. As she walked toward the kitchen, she called over her shoulder. "It's not Sasuke again, is it? He wasn't good for you the first time, and he won't be any better the second."

Once Sakura finally caught up to Ino's reasoning, she rolled her eyes and followed her friend to the kitchen. "What makes you think there is even a him to begin with?"

Affecting a gasp, Ino covered her mouth and waggled her eyebrows in Sakura's direction. "Well then, who is she?"

Ino's question ended in a strangled gasp when Sakura smacked her with one of the questionably colored tea towels that Mebuki had selected. The girls dissolved in a fit of laughter that left them with red faces and aching sides. Still chuckling, Ino poured two glasses of wine, then followed Sakura back to the living room. As they settled on opposite sides of the creaky couch, Ino tipped her head to the side to study Sakura. "Seriously though, why the sudden urge to move out if it wasn't to get a little action? You said it's been months since you got some. How do you stand it?"

Sakura tried not to let herself flush at the memory of the almost dalliance with Kazuko as she shrugged. "There are more important things than sex. Besides, work keeps me busy."

"Riveting." Ino mimed a yawn, then her lips contorted into a wicked smile. "Speaking of work, I've heard that there's a good-looking, young doctor at the hospital these days. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

Sakura grinned, forcing the thoughts of Kazuko as far from her mind as possible. "I am pretty cute."

"Ha ha, very funny." Ino rolled her eyes then tossed a pillow at Sakura. "You know, I also heard that this handsome young medic had dinner with a certain pink haired kunoichi who you might also know."

Fighting down the blush that threatened to stain her cheeks, Sakura kept her expression neutral. She had already started to regret going to eat with Kazuko for fear of the rumors it could spawn. If she had to deal with it from Ino as well, Sakura wasn't sure that she'd make it. "Don't you have better things to do than gossip?"

The blond laughed. "I am Head of Intelligence in Konoha. It's pretty much my job to know everything."

"You don't have to be so good at it," Sakura grumbled, realizing that she'd been beaten before her mouth opened. Ino probably knew more about Kazuko than Sakura did. Though, maybe not, since he wasn't a shinobi. Accepting that Ino wouldn't leave it alone, Sakura settled on a version of the truth to feed the woman's curiosity. "We'd had a shitty day and were just decompressing."

"Together." Ino drew out the word with a suggestive flair, eyebrows waggling.

Huffing out an annoyed breath, Sakura nodded. "Yes, together, and that's all there is to it. He's a civilian."

Ino hummed under her breath, considering the words from multiple angles before speaking. "Does that mean you have to go on a certain number of dates before you can fuck him? I can never remember."

Laughter burst out of Sakura before she could stop it. "I don't think so, but it wasn't an issue. What about you? Who are you sleeping with these days?"

For the first time in a long time, the color on Ino's cheeks had nothing to do with makeup. Sakura's mouth fell open at the unexpected reaction. "Oh my god, who is it?"

"Nobody," Ino answered, draining the remainder of her wine in one long pull. "I think it's time for a refill. It's hardly a housewarming party without a little alcohol."

Narrowing her eyes at her best friend, Sakura held out her glass. Perhaps the drink would loosen Ino's tongue about whomever it was that made her blush like a little girl again. And if not, Sakura had sources too. Ino wasn't the only person who could dig up a little gossip.

----------BREAK-----------

Moving into her own apartment had given Sakura a modicum of freedom that she hadn't known she'd been missing. At least, in some respects. On the first night that Sakura worked, Mebuki had brought dinner by, and there had been enough leftovers to last several days. When those were finished, Sakura realized that she'd have to add a grocery trip and meal preparation to her routine, not to mention laundry. She hadn't recognized how much her mother still helped her until she had to do everything herself.

Even so, Sakura was thankful to have a place to call her own. She could have the occasional glass of wine without her mother's disapproving looks, sleep late on her days off, and have people over whenever she wanted. Not that Sakura had many opportunities for the latter. Apparently everyone else was busy doing adult things too.

Sakura hadn't found the time to take Naruto out for ramen a second time. Their schedules made it difficult, but she hadn't put as much effort into it as she should have. Sakura simply didn't have time to do everything that she wanted to do with all of her responsibilities. Not to mention, constantly being on alert for Anbu who might need her. Over the past week, she'd only treated one shinobi, a genin who'd gotten over enthusiastic with his shuriken training.

The situation with Kazuko had settled down, though Sakura hadn't talked to him about anything. They had gone their separate ways like adults, working together when necessary and separately when possible. She thought that time would eventually smooth it over. Now, if she could learn to control the blush that crept in whenever an unwanted memory sprung up in her mind.. Maybe Ino was right. Sakura just needed to get laid.

Not much chance of that, Sakura mused as she settled in bed after a long day. Her shift at the hospital hadn't been so bad, it was the running around after work that did her in. But, at least she had enough fresh vegetables to make food for the next several days. Contemplating which dishes she wanted to try her hand at first, Sakura drifted to sleep..

The onions were too large to be considered diced, and Sakura couldn't get her eyes to stop watering long enough to correct her mistake. She grumbled under her breath and continued to chop the pesky vegetables. A pan bubbled and hissed; steam rose in tantalizing waves that wafted the scent of meat and garlic across the room. Sakura nodded to herself, shoved the onions into a smaller bowl, and moved back to the stove.

Focused on the food, Sakura didn't hear the soft footfalls behind her until arms snaked around her middle. She squeaked and suppressed the urge to lash out with chakra. Soft kisses burned a trail along the shell of her ear as she swatted the hands. She tried to complain that she was too busy for the man's attention, but they both knew it was a lie.

When Sakura turned, the man's face was indistinct, a face that she could have seen hundreds of times during her day. She didn't have long to study his features before warm kisses made her forget everything else. Nimble fingers worked at the apron that Sakura had secured around her midsection; his hands drifted lower as the string came loose.

Beep, beep, beep. Sakura squeezed her eyes shut as the hands pulled her closer in a dizzying rush. The kisses along her neck were gaining heat, burning through her attention span. "Don't you need to get that," an unfamiliar voice husked by her ear. Beep, beep, beep. Sakura reached for the oven behind her, frowning at the numbers slowly ticking down. Beep, beep, beep.

The buzzing of Sakura's pager drew her from the warm confines of sleep. She blinked, trying to capture the remnants of her dream, but the urgency of the noise drove them from her mind. Sakura peered at the tiny digits indicating the time, then groaned. Why couldn't Anbu have emergencies during normal business hours?

Throwing off the blankets, Sakura climbed out of bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She stripped off the oversized t-shirt and reached for standard issue jonin blues. Sakura couldn't be bothered with the complicated snaps and buttons of her normal attire while half asleep. Tying off the pants, she grabbed a bag that held everything she'd need for an emergency consultation from beside the night stand and headed toward the door.

The streets of Konoha were eerily quiet in the deepest hours of the night, deserted except for the occasional flicker of unseen protectors at the corner of Sakura's vision. The fluorescent lights of the hospital glowed in the darkness, drawing Sakura like a moth. When she stepped through the doors, the same blanket of silence that cloaked the village enveloped the reception area.

Sakura turned away from the serenity, preparing for chaos. She'd barely reached the shinobi wing before Chiasa hurried toward her. Blood splattered the woman's scrubs as she indicated one of the rooms. "This way, Haruno-sensei."

Chiasa had already attached monitors to the patient while awaiting Sakura's arrival. The machines beeped an urgent rhythm that forced the last vestiges of sleep from Sakura's mind. Her eyes darted to the heart rate, lips pulling into a frown. The number was higher than Sakura wanted to see for someone as physically fit as an Anbu.

A flash of silver caught Sakura's eye; armor littered the floor. A chest plate tilted haphazardly against the leg of a chair. Metal arm guards and black compression gloves piled in a corner. Streaks of mud brown and dappled crimson looked like a macabre art display against the crispness of the bed's sheets.

Shaking her head to clear the image, Sakura moved closer to the bed. She noticed the man lying on it for the first time. Familiar brown hair stuck up in a dozen directions, pushed there by the faceplate and mask that lay beside his hand. Despite the chaos of the scene around them, Yamato's face looked markedly untouched by whatever injuries had brought him to the hospital.

The man's black compression shirt had been cut away, baring Yamato's chest to the light. Minor cuts and gashes decorated his arms and shoulders, each one in various states of healing. On his left side, a bloody bandage clung to the skin, mud and dirt covering it. The edges were too saturated to bond well; it had reopened at some point, allowing debris into the wound.

Sakura dropped her bag into a chair and dug out the tools she needed. One hand came up with a stethoscope that she draped around her neck, and the other held a pen light. Sakura thumbed open Yamato's eyes to check his pupil's reaction and was surprised to feel the burn of fever beneath her fingers. "Yamato? Can you hear me? Do you know where you are?"

When the man didn't answer, Sakura tucked the light into her pocket and turned to Chiasa. "What do we know? Do we have any information? Where is his team?"

Chiasa glanced down at the notes, though Sakura knew the woman hadn't forgotten any of the information from the intake. The nurse nodded to herself. "A member of his team brought him in while he was unconscious. The girl didn't stay around to check on his status."

Sakura frowned at that addition, wondering if friendships in the black ops meant so little and who the girl was. She didn't have time to answer that question now. Chiasa offered a shrug as if she could read Sakura's thoughts, then continued. "I was told that I don't have clearance for the details of the mission, so your guess is as good as mine on what happened."

A flash of fury burst in Sakura's chest at the words, but she forced it away. With a sharp dip of her head, she moved closer to Yamato and sighed. "I wish I had the time to be gentle."

Bracing her hands against Yamato's shoulders, Sakura pushed her chakra through his semi-conscious defenses. The man arched, a soft growl ripping free from his throat as she probed the injuries. As she'd expected, a dozen or more smaller wounds vied for her attention. They were minor compared to the one on Yamato's side. Another significant cut crossed his thigh, undoubtedly wrapped and hidden by the fabric of his pants, but that would need attention as well.

Ignoring the inconsequential details, Sakura focused on the most threatening injuries. Both the chest and leg were infected. She eased chakra into the wounds, lessening the body's strain to heal itself. A sluggish pulse of blood caught her attention; a tiny laceration on Yamato's liver. Sakura's forehead knit together in concentration as she pushed healing energy around the wound, forcing the body to speed its repair. She spent as much chakra as she dared, but the infection presented another problem.

Sakura lifted her hands away from Yamato's warm skin and wiped them down the front of her pants. It was only then that she realized that she hadn't bothered to don her lab coat, another detail that hardly mattered. She turned back to Chiasa. "Let's start with a broad spectrum antibiotic. Has he been coherent since they brought him in?"

Chiasa shook her head as she turned to the medicine cabinet to find the items needed to start an IV line. Sakura tapped her fingers against her thigh as she chewed her lower lip, mumbling to herself. "Where is your team? Why didn't they stay? And, what the hell happened?"

Grumbling under her breath, Sakura swiped her hair away from her neck in a messy ponytail as she considered the options. Trying to purge infection was trickier than poison; it was a body's response to stimuli instead of foreign invaders that she could isolate. It would be better to clean the wounds with traditional medicine and drain the infections, especially since Sakura wasn't sure what she was dealing with yet.

Sakura released her chakra when Chiasa appeared at her side, holding out the medicine. She nodded and made the notation in Yamato's chart. The page was empty except for Chiasa's intake notes. Sakura resisted the urge to throw the file against the wall as she checked the numbers. Yamato's blood pressure and heart rate were higher than she wanted them to be, especially after healing. Had she missed something?

Kneeling, Sakura picked up the discarded chest plate that she'd noticed earlier. A puncture in the side correlated with the injury to Yamato's chest. Whatever hit him had to have been moving at incredible speed to crumple the armor that way. Sakura placed the item on the chair, then collected the arm guards to join it. She reached for his mask, brushing her fingers over the green and red stripes on the cat's cheeks that had kept his features free of wounds. Sakura wondered if the animal had been assigned, or if Yamato had picked it himself.

After placing the mask with the rest of the armor, Sakura crossed the room to pull a blanket from the cabinet. Since the rest of Yamato's team hadn't stuck around long enough to see how he was doing, she had no idea what to do with it. The man had essentially been abandoned, and it infuriated Sakura. Was that the way that all Anbu treated each other? She couldn't imagine bringing Naruto or Sasuke to the hospital in this condition and leaving them there.

Sakura sighed, watching the efficient way that Chiasa worked. The nurse had already gotten an IV line started in Yamato's wrist and was buzzing around the machines connected to his body. Sakura glanced at his heart rate and blood pressure again, frowning. "I want vitals checked by hand every twenty minutes for the next three hours," she decided aloud.

"If there are no changes after that," Sakura glanced at her watch, startled to find the time so late already. "After that, I'll be back on shift and can reevaluate him myself."

Chiasa nodded, familiar with the expectations. "Do you want any blood work?"

"Yeah, let's get a cbc and blood culture to see what we're up against." Sakura paused, then nodded to herself. There was nothing else that she could accomplish tonight. "I'm going to try and catch a couple of hours of sleep in my office. Wake me if there are any changes."

Gathering her bag from beside the bed, Sakura slung it over her shoulder and walked from the room. The silence of the hallways made her uneasy. She was used to the hustle and bustle that predominated day shift, but more emergencies came through the doors at night. Sprains and stuffy noses were replaced with broken bones and heart attacks. Sakura didn't envy the men and women who worked while everyone else slept. She'd done more than her fair share of night shifts when training with Tsunade, mostly because the woman liked sleep more than she liked her student. Or, so Sakura thought.

A ratty couch tucked into one corner of Sakura's office, a new addition for these late night Anbu surprises. It was hardly long enough to stretch out on, even for someone of Sakura's height, but it worked in a pinch. The room was blissfully dark at least. Sakura tossed her bag onto the floor, then tried to get comfortable on the lumpy cushions. Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Despite the exhaustion nagging the back of her mind, Sakura's body refused to rest. Sighing, she moved back to the desk and flipped on the light.

A dozen charts waited for Sakura's attention, but she couldn't focus enough to deal with the tiny details that they required. Her mind refused to settle enough for sleep, but wouldn't let her work. Sakura had assumed that the worst missions, the ones that left shinobi broken and battered like Yamato, had become an exception now that the world was at peace. She berated herself for that naivety. The current political situation was tenuous at best, forced by fear or respect for Naruto and Sasuke. Anbu continued to put their lives on the line daily and would do so until something major changed

Sakura's frown deepened as she considered Yamato, still trying to reconcile the fact that he was Anbu. She had wondered why she saw so little of him after the war, but hadn't thought to comment on it. Sai had never mentioned the man in relation to Anbu either, but that wasn't surprising considering the security around them. Sai wasn't one to gossip, anyway. Sakura tapped her fingers against her forearm, then checked her watch, less than an hour had passed.

Giving up on the idea of sleep, Sakura pushed to her feet and left her office behind. The halls were still deserted and silent as she walked back to Yamato's room. Chiasa had gone, dimming the lights before she left to help her patient rest. Beside his bed, the alarm on the monitor flashed, but it had been silenced for being constantly out of normal parameters. Yamato's heart rate and blood pressure remained elevated.

The healing, push of fluids, antibiotics, and rest should have lowered the number by now. Sakura stepped closer and captured Yamato's wrist in her hands. Her fingers pressed against his pulse point, surprised to feel the rapid beat through the skin. She had wondered if the machine was getting a false reading somehow, but her physical count came up with the same number or close enough that it made no difference. Sakura laid his hand back on the bed and frowned. "Why aren't you stabilizing?"

As Sakura expected, Yamato didn't answer. Chiasa had cleared away the tatters of his uniform, then cleaned and wrapped the wounds. Yamato's armor remained beneath the blanket where Sakura had left it. The man looked different without the jonin uniform and usual head protector. She brushed her fingers over his forehead, feeling the warmth of fever. Yamato's temperature was up, but not high enough to force his body to shut down. "Did I miss something," Sakura wondered aloud, mentally cycling through the dozens of medical textbooks that she'd read over the years.

Lowering her hands to hover above Yamato's chest, Sakura eased her chakra into his body. The echo of the man's life force ruled out chakra exhaustion. Sakura had tended to Kakashi after battle enough times to know what that felt like. Yamato's chakra brimmed with energy and life.

Sakura quested deeper, reexamining the injuries and looking for something that she could have missed. It was exactly as she'd seen earlier, minus her healing. Huffing, she broke the connection between herself and Yamato. When Sakura opened her eyes, she was startled to find Chiasa at the end of the bed with a stethoscope in hand. The woman was coming back to get the next set of vitals. Sakura dipped her chin in greeting. "Have we gotten any results yet?"

"Not yet," Chiasa answered, pulling the file from the box at the end of the bed. "We should have part of it back in the next couple of hours, but the culture will take longer."

"Yeah," Sakura agreed, humming thoughtfully. Her eyes swept over Yamato again, then returned to his heart rate. "Draw a tox screen as well, and put a rush on the results."

If Chiasa was surprised by the unusual request, her face didn't reveal it. She nodded and made a notation in the chart. "Anything else, Haruno-sensei?"

Sakura shook her head, wondering if any of the tests would help her fit the pieces together into an image that made some kind of sense. She rested a hand on Yamato's bare shoulder. "We'll get to the bottom of this soon, I promise."

Don’t miss the rest of the chapter, linked above!

#dimi write #healing hands #YamaSaku #Tenzo/Sakura #Sakura Haruno #Tenzo #Yamato #SLOW Burn

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