#(and promptly went hm. i think it may need some work)

[youssefguedira]

V, JoeNicky & Nile

V. An abandoned or empty place.

When Joe pulls the sheet off the couch it kicks up enough dust that it makes Nile sneeze. The couch underneath is old, wooden frame rotting, fabric stained and full of holes where moths have eaten away at it. 

“Sorry,” Joe says to Nile when she finally manages to get the sneezing under control. “Didn’t realise it was that bad.” He puts his hands on his hips and looks down at the couch. Nile looks it over.

“There’s no saving that,” she says, wiping at her eyes. She can heal from falling over ten stories, but she can’t get away from allergies.

Joe frowns. “I liked that couch.”

The house is older than anywhere else they’ve brought her, and has been abandoned for long enough that it’s falling apart. But through some trick of posing as their own sons, or something, Joe and Nicky still own it, even if there’s a giant hole in the roof and all the windows are broken. Why they’d decided to come back here, Nile doesn’t know, but it’s a nice enough area, and a good distraction from, well. Everything. Growing back a leg, she’s discovered, is not fun. 

From one of the other rooms – she thinks it’s the kitchen, she’s not actually sure where Nicky had wandered to – there’s the sound of something breaking and crashing to the ground, and a muffled curse. 

Joe makes a questioning noise in the vague direction of the kitchen. A few moments later, Nicky appears in the doorway, covered in dust. “I am okay,” he says. “But I think we will need to go out to eat tonight.”

“Nothing?” 

Nicky shakes his head. “Unless you want to start a fire and go hunt some rabbits.”

Joe grins. “Just like old times, right?”

Nile shakes her head firmly, which makes Nicky smile. She loves them, but there’s no way they’re doing that. 

“We can probably clear out enough space in here,” Joe says, gesturing to the floor. “Get the sleeping bags out of the car. Probably have to start a fire anyway, but…”

Nile looks around again while Joe says something to Nicky in Arabic that makes him laugh. The house is falling apart, sure, but it’s structurally stable, and the bones are all there. It could be something. They’ve got time to make it something. 

Nicky is the one who goes for pizza in the end – he doesn’t trust Nile and Joe to order it if left to their own devices – while they try to clear out a space in the living room. Eventually, though, after Nile has another sneezing fit, Joe suggests they just take the sleeping bags outside instead, which works out a lot better. He sets about starting a fire with practiced ease while Nile sets out the sleeping bags around it. They’re far enough away from civilisation that she can’t hear cars passing by, which is kind of surreal, and the stars are brighter than she’s ever seen them. 

When Nicky gets back, two boxes balanced on one arm and a bottle of wine in the other, he looks over their makeshift camp and laughs. “Just like old times, then?” he asks.

Joe grins. “Except we have pizza.”

“And actual sleeping bags,” Nile says.

“Ah, these modern inventions could never quite match the comfort of a pile of furs,” Joe says wistfully. Nile gives him a look. She’s ninety percent sure that one’s bullshit, but she can never quite tell with him. 

Nicky sets down the pizza boxes, and jogs back to the car to grab the pack of plastic wine glasses they’d bought before they got here. 

“We should’ve bought marshmallows,” Nile says. “Could have made s’mores.”

“Well, we’ll have to go to the hardware store tomorrow anyway,” Joe points out. “And I think it’ll be a little while before we can actually sleep in there.”

“Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow,” Nicky agrees.

[calaisreno]

Lost and Found

Prompt: Redecorating

The sofa has reached the end of its natural life. 

Sherlock has resisted replacing it, despite the cushions leaking some substance that makes him sneeze and several springs poking into his back when he’s trying to find his Mind Palace. 

“Do you have one in there?” John asks. 

Sherlock is baffled, then narrows his eyes. “Do I have a sofa in my Mind Palace?”

John shrugs and gives him a cheeky grin. “Well, I’ve never visited, so I wouldn’t know. For all I know, it’s more posh than the King’s digs.”

“I don’t want a new sofa,” Sherlock gripes. “I want the old one fixed.”

“Nobody does that kind of work anymore,” John explains. Again. This conversation seems to be running on a loop. “It’s too far gone. In any case, we’ll need to carry it out back to the skip.”

Sherlock sits in his chair, pulling his knees up to his chin. He needs to sulk for a few minutes before he’ll help.

“I’ll take the cushions down first,” John says, ignoring the sulk. “We’ll wrangle the frame down after.” 

Removing one of the cushions, he tosses it aside. It’s Sherlock’s favourite cushion, the one where John’s bum always rests on movie nights, with Sherlock’s head in his lap. 

It’s hard to watch, like seeing an old friend taken apart. Well, Sherlock doesn’t have friends, only one, who is currently disassembling his favourite sofa as if it were merely furniture.

“Hey, I found money!” John holds up a coin. It’s an old one-pound coin with Queen Elizabeth’s profile. He pockets it.

“That might be mine,” Sherlock says. 

John smirks. “You never have money in your pockets. Not even a penny. Oh, here’s a penny!” 

He tosses it at Sherlock, who catches it. It’s brown, with a man’s profile. “Who is this?”

“Probably George VI.” John comes over and studies it. “1949. Might be worth a pound.”

Sherlock tucks the coin in his pocket and listens to John muttering as he runs a hand into the framework.

“I wonder how old this sofa is. What’s this? An old sock.”

“I am not currently missing any socks from my index,” Sherlock says. “It must be yours.”

“Mine, then. The dryer eats them. Not sure how it ended up here.”

“It’s a wormhole. Sofas are full of things no one can identify. Artefacts from other dimensions.”

“Hm, I think you’re right. Remember when we got the new microwave, after you blew up the last one with that experiment? We didn’t get the smell out for weeks. And we promptly lost the manual for the new one. Here is it.” He tosses it on the table.

Sherlock sits up, pointing at the next item John’s fished out of the depths. “What’s that?”

“A key. No idea what door it’s for.”

Sherlock comes over, takes it out of his hand. “I think it’s the key to my old flat. I couldn’t find it when I terminated my lease, and they said it didn’t matter, they’d be changing the locks anyway.” He sits on the floor, turning it over in his fingers.

John sits on the remaining cushion. “Where did you live before here?”

“Montague Street. Dreadful flat.”

“You never saw where I was living before, did you?”

“I did.” His face flushes. 

“How did you— oh, God, you picked the lock, didn’t you? While you were off looking for pink suitcases, you broke into my bedsit.”

“Evidence, John. If one is going to share rooms with a person, it’s best to know all you can.”

“And what did my room tell you?”

“That you needed to live with me.” He smiles. “Is that the remote for the telly?”

John giggles. “I hid it last week when you were getting ready to watch that documentary about the serial killers again.”

“I was bored! If I can’t have a serial killer of my own, I might be permitted to vicariously enjoy some.”

“You’re mad, you know. Here’s a note: Do not bin the eyeballs.”

“That’s your doing, John Watson. You binned them and said you never got my note. The evidence is in your hand.”

“Hm. Maybe. Wait— what are my dog tags doing here?”

“I may have… borrowed them. When you went to Edinburgh for that pointless conference.”

“That was a year ago. You borrowed them?”

“I missed you. I couldn’t sleep without you, so I slept out here, on the sofa.”

John leans towards him, kisses his forehead. “You’re adorable, do you know that?”

“So you often remind me.”

John kisses him again, this time on the lips. “There’s a lot of history in this old sofa.”

“There is. But I think I will adjust to the new one.”

“Will you?”

Sherlock smiles and points. “Oh, look! What’s that?”

“What? I don’t see anything else.”

Sherlock kisses him. “It’s my heart. Lost it the day you moved in.”

814 words, Flash Fiction

@lisbeth-kk @meetinginsamarra @raina-at @bertytravelsfar @momma2boys @jrow @helloliriels @the-reading-lemon @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @elwinglyre @mydogwatson @thetimemoves @jobooksncoffee @lhrinchelsea @peanitbear @gregorovitchworld @7-percent @shiplocks-of-love @khorazir @gaylilsherlock @catlock-holmes @the-reading-lemon @inevitably-johnlocked @discordantwords

Thank you for reading/reblogging!

[pleasantsoulobject]

Automatic Sink - a short story

“What happened to your hand?”

Anne points to the tightly wrapped bandage around my bruised knuckles. I had been trying to hide my hand in the sleeve of my sweatshirt the entire time we’d been sitting in this run-down diner that’s halfway between her house and mine. It’s dingy with walls that might have been considered modern in 1985 and chairs that creak every time you slightly adjust your position in them, but what has really been bothering me is how warm it is in here. This wasn’t an issue at first, but they must have cranked the heat up in this shitty diner or something at some point, making it unbearably warm. It’s as if the managers in this place thought it would be funny to sweat me out, forcing me to take off my hoodie and expose my injured hand to my older sister because those sick fucks were bored. Well, sick fucks, guess you won. It’s so hot in here that I feel like my face is melting off.

“I fell,” I say, not looking at her as I say it. She raises a skeptical eyebrow at me. 

“You fell?” she repeats after me, clearly not believing this terribly vague lie I have made up on the spot. 

“Yes.” I answer promptly, standing my ground. It’s not like I can tell her that the real reason why my hand is bandaged is because I punched an automatic sink while I was in the bathroom at work a few days ago.

It’s absolutely humiliating to admit that because it just sounds so stupid.

I’m not even a particularly impatient person, but something about the way that sink would turn off whenever I put my hand under it pushed me over the edge. That sink had one job and it wasn’t following through, so in a wave of frustration, I just punched it. I thought I had broken a couple of fingers before I decided I was being dramatic and bandaged my hand up at my desk. It’s easier to tell my sister that I fell than admit that I lost a fistfight to an automatic sink.

“How did you fall?” Anne pushes, leaning forward. I try not to shiver as her dark brown eyes stare into my soul. If my sister is skilled at anything, it’s getting me to spill my guts when I don’t really want to.

“I tripped over a trash can on my way to work,” I say. Maybe I said that too quickly. She doesn’t look any less suspicious. If anything, she looks more suspicious than she did just a couple of seconds ago.

“Hm,” she purses her lips in thought. “Then how did you fall on your hand like that? Shouldn’t your palms have taken the brunt of the beating?”

Shit.

“I don’t know,” I shrug. The heat in this diner is starting to get to me again. I feel like I’m a witness on the stand in a courtroom who’s desperately in need of a handkerchief for their sweaty forehead.

Anne looks at me for a moment longer before she sighs, picking up her water glass and taking a careful sip. She’s letting me win this round. Thank god.

“Alright,” she nods. “Looks like it hurts,”

“It does, but I’m okay,” I say. I watch as she sets down her glass of water onto the sticky gingham tablecloth.

“What did Liz have to say about your hand?”

I draw a blank. I may not be able to tell Anne that I broke my hand because I punched an automatic sink, but I certainly cannot tell her that what drove me to punch the sink was the fact that Liz had called me earlier in the day to break up with me.

“It’s not your fault,” Liz had said to me over the phone. I was curled up in my desk chair at work, trying not to lose my mind.

“Cut the crap, Liz,” I had snapped back. It felt weird to snap at her. I had never done that before. “What’s the real reason why you’re breaking up with me?”

Liz went silent. I thought I had gone too far before she cleared her throat. “Because you’re still in love with your ex, Nick.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked her incredulously. She was right, of course, but I felt like it was common courtesy to pretend that she had caught me off guard with that assessment.

“Are we really going to do this?” she said, her voice sounding tired.

“Yes, we are,” I said. “Tell me why you think I’m still in love with Robbie.” I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t actually want to know.

“Just give him a call, maybe he still has feelings for you, too.” Liz ignored me.

“I don’t think he does,” I mumbled.

“How would you know if you never even tried to reach out?”

“I don’t know, I just— this isn’t what we’re talking about. I don’t want to break up with you,”

“Well I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to say.”

“Say that you’re not breaking up with me,” I said pathetically. I felt like I was a teenager again, begging my high school girlfriend not to leave me after she told me I was emotionally unavailable. It’s funny how some things never change.

“I— c’mon,” I can imagine Liz shaking her head at me over the phone. “Could you make this a little easier for me? Please?”

“Liz, please,” I continued on, curling up a little more tightly. I knew that I was fighting a losing battle, but I couldn’t help myself. “I won’t bring up Robbie ever again. I didn’t even know that I brought him up so many times. Could we just forget about this?”

“What do you mean you didn’t know you kept bringing him up?” Liz said suddenly. Her voice became strangely hard in that moment. It caught me off guard, especially because it wasn’t like Liz to become impatient. My heart sank knowing that the first time I had seen this impatience was due to my own lack of maturity.

“I just … Liz, I’m so sorry,”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Look, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t know you kept bringing up your ex? All you do is talk about him,” Liz sounded angry, but underneath the anger, I could hear the hurt in her voice. I felt my heart sink even further. “Don’t you understand how odd it is to hear you constantly talk about this perfect, untouchable ex-boyfriend when we are actively in a relationship? And you’re telling me that you didn’t even realize you were doing it?”

I was at a loss for words. I didn’t have any excuse, any way to defend myself, because I was the one who was fully in the wrong.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, having nothing else that I could possibly say.

Liz sighed. “I know you are,” she answered softly, her anger fleeting before my eyes and revealing the Liz I knew. Calm, collected, mature Liz. Someone that I wish I could’ve been. “But I think you should give Robbie a call.”

And that was that. 

And then when I used the bathroom later that day, that stupid fucking sink was my final straw. Why don’t things just work out when I want them to? When they’re supposed to? When they’re designed to work a certain way and then don’t?

Liz was the third girlfriend I’d had in the last eleven months. All of those relationships ended for fair reasons, but this was the first one that made me question why I kept on dating in the first place. Everyone is the same. They really like you for a few months, accuse you of being in love with that one guy you dated two or three years ago, and then they leave.

The thing is I don’t even know why I’m so hung up on Robbie. He wasn’t even as much of a catch as Liz or Rachel or Kayla or any of the other people I’ve dated since him. He would always cut his hair too short and wear clothes that were too loose on him and had a stupid gap in between his two front teeth. He had horrible acid reflux and would take up the entire bed at night and was terrible at returning phone calls. If anything, he was below average. I was out of his league.

But he was also so gentle. He was kind to me when I couldn’t be kind to myself. He had seen me hit rock bottom more times than I can count and still continued to throw down a rope to pull me up every single time. When I wasn’t sure if I would be able to pay my rent, Robbie had loaned me money without a second thought. When I had blacked out after drinking far too much, Robbie had taken me home. He had sat on the bathroom floor with me as I spent hours throwing up, rubbing my back and silencing my desperate, drunken apologies. When my dad had called me a slew of horrible names after I had told him I was dating a man, Robbie had held me as I sobbed into his shirt in the driveway of my childhood home. He was the only partner I’d had who made me feel like I could lean on him when I really needed it.

That was of course until he told me he was moving to New Mexico and broke up with me.

Turns out he was just like everybody else.

When it happened, I wasn’t even upset about it. Some part of me had almost expected it. I thanked him for everything, kissed him goodbye, and left. It wasn’t until I was sitting alone in my empty apartment that night that everything had come crashing down, except there was no one to shield me from the falling debris this time.

But that’s life, right? People really like you for a little while, get you to trust them, get you to fall in love with them, and then they leave. They leave you to pick up the broken pieces of your life, to dream about that stupid gap in his teeth that you actually loved and found very charming even though you are pretending that you didn’t as a method of self-preservation. You loved everything about him if you’re being completely honest with yourself, even his too-short hair and horrible acid reflux. Yet, no matter how much you loved him, that still wasn’t enough for him to stay.

Maybe I’m just not designed to have a life partner despite everyone telling me that I am, the same way that those fuckass automatic sinks never work even though everyone tells you that they should.

“Nick?” Anne’s voice snaps me back to reality.

“Huh?” I shake my head, trying to ground myself.

“I asked what Liz had to say about your hand.”

I look down at my hand, the knuckles black and blue and throbbing in pain. It’s been a few days at this point, but it feels just as painful as it did when it happened.

“Liz didn’t say much,” I tell Anne as I feel sweat trickle down the back of my neck.

[leaving-anorexia-behind]

27/01/24

Part 3

That day feels like a blur. I forced myself to work while thinking of what I wanted to say in my goodbye letters when the AMHPs turned. One was an older guy, the other middle aged. I wish the staff hadn't opened the door to them. I was called from my room, my safe space and ushered up the stairs to the top floor where they, the HM and the dietetic assistant were waiting for me.

I was asked more questions; what was it like growing up, relationships with my parents, who had a mental illness in my family... the questions went on and on and I got frustrated saying there was nothing anyone could do so what was the point?! They mentioned a private hospital, community care etc but needed some time to gather all the available options. So once they had made a decision, they would come back and let me know, but they did say they wouldn't be sending me back to the psych ward I nearly died in. I didn't even care at that point.

After, I had a strange text from my dad asking me to call him so I did. He asked me what was going on as he'd just been informed by the AMHP that I was to be placed on a section 2 and bought into hospital with the potential of being transferred to a unit in Brighton (2 hours away!). I promptly shut the call down and the staff came out of the office, probably seeing the distress written all over my face.

How could the AMHP call my dad without my consent and tell him I was suicidal, writing goodbye letters and that it had been going on since October?! My Dad must have felt so upset, confused and afraid. That was completely unfair and should have at the least been discussed with me! I didn't want him to find out.

The therapist asked to talk to me with a support worker and I just stared at the floor, broken. He said I must be feeling really angry. Of course I was angry! I was being sectioned forced into a nut house and my poor dad had been told in the worst way possible! I sobbed and he said that if I would let him he'd hold me tight. Only he knows my issues with men so that wasn't really an option. Instead I walked back to my room, utterly defeated.

I quietly shut my door and had just got to my wardrobe when there was a knock on the door and the dietetic assistant came in. She said she had a horrible feeling I would try and end my life. I glared at her and begged her to leave, but she wouldn't. Had she given me just 15 minutes alone I wouldn't be here. I think she may have known that too.

As we spoke I heard a car pull up, so had a quick look out my window and saw a silver van, instantly I knew they were there for me. I was right. The AMHP came into my room and he said he had heard I had found out about being sectioned and that was the case. He told me I had 15 minutes to get some things together as the van was waiting for me outside. I asked what would happen if I refused, his told me there were four staff and they would physically remove me if necessary.

After a lot of tears and persuading by the dietetic assistant I reluctantly packed my things and was escorted by her, the AMHP and a support worker. The van staff took my things and saw me in. I told myself that if I went "voluntarily" then the psychiatrist would see I was ok and didn't need to be in hospital in the first place and discharge me.

Despite going by the wrong hospital, we arrived at the right one 40 minutes later. The journey had been bumpy I felt nauseous from a mixture of car sickness and anxiety but I had arrived.

[gonzo-rella]

Do It For Him | Izzy Hands

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): Izzy Hands x gn!reader (romantic), Edward Teach/Blackbeard x gn!reader (platonic), Lucius Spriggs x gn!reader (platonic)

Summary: After you get injured in a raid, Izzy decides it’s time to give you a lesson in swordsmanship. When this doesn’t go to plan, you both learn something about the other that neither of you quite expected.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence (stabbing, blood and all that lovely stuff), description of eating. (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 2.3k

(A/N: I might have made the reader a tad unlikeable in this one. Maybe that’s in my head, but I did keep thinking ‘yikes’ whenever I made the reader do something. My knowledge of using a sword comes from Steven Universe, which is why this fic is named after a Steven Universe song (definitely not just because I’m atrocious at titles). Also, sorry I don’t know sword words. There may be more mistakes than usual in this one, as I didn’t proof-read it much. [Insert obligatory begging for OFMD requests])

Izzy watched with wide eyes as a pirate from the enemy ship thrusted and twisted the blade of a rapier into your left side. Ivan had been too late in taking down the man who had stabbed you, though he managed to knock the foe overboard before you even registered your injury. You looked down and touched where the blood was beginning to soak your shirt, then lifted your fingers to inspect their new crimson coating. Your chest rose and fell rapidly. The sword you’d been holding at your side clattered against the wooden floorboards of the deck. You soon followed, falling to your knees.

Everything went black, at least for you; everything only went hazy for Izzy.

━━━━━━━━━

A groan escaped your lips when a dull pain spread through your left side. Your blurry vision revealed a candlelit room. As your eyes began to adjust to your surroundings, a dimly lit figure took form beside you.

“Hm?” you hummed hoarsely, blinking in an attempt to clear up your vision.

Whoever was beside you let out a sigh of relief. It was enough for you to identify them.

“Alright, Iz?”

You glanced around with narrowed eyes.

“Am I in your cabin?” you mumbled.

He hummed coolly in response, offering no further explanation.

“Am I gonna die?” you asked.

He cleared his throat and scratched his face.

“Eventually.”

“I meant because of the stab wound.”

“Not under my watch, you’re not.”

You chuckled weakly, an action that was immediately followed by a wince. Izzy scoffed, something you chose to ignore.

“Do I get some time off?”

“’Course.” he answered. “You’re useless with that hole in you. More so than usual.”

“So, you’re not gonna be nice to me even after I got stabbed?”

He snorted and shook his head.

“Fucking hell.”

━━━━━━━━━

It felt like ages since you’d seen most of the crew, considering Izzy was incredibly strict when it came to visitors (you guessed he didn’t want so many people that he despised in his cabin). You’d seen Ed the most- he often stopped by to ask how you were holding up, only to stay for a while to chat with you and Izzy. Lucius, Black Pete, Oluwande and Jim had gotten some visits in (much to Izzy’s annoyance). Roach turned up three times a day to deliver you food, though few words were ever exchanged between the two of you. Stede tried to check up on you a number of times, but Izzy promptly turned him away. 

However, Izzy was the one you had spent the most time with. After all, he was in charge of your care, cleaning your wound regularly and changing your bandages twice a day. He left you alone so he could get on with his first mate duties, but you still spent many hours of the day in his company. It wasn’t as though he socialised with the crew much outside of work (if you could call it socialising), and it wasn’t unlike him to retreat to his cabin- it just so happened that you were there too, albeit bedridden.

After almost two weeks of lying in Izzy’s bed, everything was relatively back to normal, as you were back to work. Well, Izzy (in a surprising act of mercy) didn’t make you work too hard. 

Your first day back was relatively uneventful, at least when you were actually getting on with your work (you’d been put on laundry duty with Frenchie). In fact, things only really got interesting at dinner. As usual, the Captains were dining in Stede’s cabin, while Izzy was in his room.

“So, Y/N,” Lucius began, still chewing. He swallowed his food. “Did you enjoy being nursed back to health by Izzy?”

This elicited a chuckle from the rest of the crew. You snorted.

“It was fine when he wasn’t being a prick. Maybe it was optimistic of me to expect him to be nicer to me”

“At least he’s back to being as much of a dickhead as usual.” Black Pete commented. “He was totally unbearable for the first few days after you got stabbed.”

“I wonder why.” Lucius muttered sarcastically, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Your crewmates exchanged bewildered glances.

“Go on.” you insisted with a sigh. “Enlighten me.”

Lucius shook his head with a snicker, though it wasn’t as gleeful or devilish as it should have been.

“If you haven’t figured it out for yourself, it’s not my place, or anyone else’s place, to tell you.”

You knitted your brows.

━━━━━━━━━

A few days had passed since the incident at dinner. The conversation occupied your thoughts whenever you had nothing else to think about (and sometimes even when you did), but you decided not to bring it up. After all, you figured that your search for answers would be unfruitful. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder what Lucius, and seemingly the rest of your crew, was hiding from you. It was so unlike him to hold his tongue, and you, perhaps naively, assumed that he wasn’t keeping this from you just to taunt you.

You had been mopping the main deck when Izzy had thrown a sword at you. It landed at your feet with a clang, causing you to stumble backwards in surprise.

“Fucking hell, Iz! What was that for?”

You looked up at him. His rapier was still in its sheath.

“Pick it up.”

“You pick it up.” you retorted. “You’re the one who threw it at me, fucking bastard.”

“Pick it up, now.” he demanded, nodding to the weapon. “You’re finally gonna learn how to use a bloody sword so you can actually fucking defend yourself like a proper pirate.”

“Do I have to?” you huffed.

“Yes.”

“Or what?”

He gritted his teeth.

“Just fucking pick it up.” he growled

“I’m busy.” you argued, lifting up the mop as if to prove your point.

“A mop won’t protect you in battle.”

“I never claimed it would.”

Izzy groaned, running a hand over his face.

“Put down the fucking mop and pick up the sword.” he ordered.

“I will if you say that you’re sorry for throwing the sword at me.” you shrugged.

“Piss off.” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Alright. Back to mopping I go.”

You nudged the sword away from you with your foot and continued swabbing the deck.

Izzy sighed. You glanced over at him, stopping what you were doing as you watched him pick up the sword and hold it out to you.

“Sorry.” he mumbled, barely opening his mouth.

Unfortunately for you (but fortunately for Izzy), you didn’t notice how his stony expression was betrayed by this soft kind of desperation in his eyes. It wasn’t the reason that you caved in- you were just honouring your agreement. Allowing the mop to fall to the floor, you hesitantly took the sword.

━━━━━━━━━

“Christ...” Izzy grumbled.

You crouched down to pick up your sword after he had knocked it out of your hand for the... well, you’d lost count of how many times it had happened. At least you didn’t care that most of the crew had gathered around to watch.

“You’re not even trying, are you?”

You weren’t quite sure what the right answer was. If you were trying, you were just completely shit with a sword. If you weren’t trying, you were wasting his time.

Not quite sure what to say, you responded with a noncommittal shrug.

He rolled his eyes.

“God knows how you’ve managed to survive at sea this long. Absolutely fucking useless”

“Fair enough.”

He glared at you.

“Do you want to die?”

“Well, if do I wanna die, then I’m doing a pretty bad job of it, aren’t I?”

You forced a contemptuous smile.

“I’ve tried three fucking times before to teach you how to do this,” he complained, waving the sword in frustration. “And, every single time, you dick about and don’t try.”

“I never asked you to teach me. You’re the one who wants me to learn, not me.”

“You don’t want to learn?”

“No, I don’t.” you answered.

It was something he had guessed before- he just had no idea why you would willingly put yourself at a major disadvantage.

“And, why’s that?” His tone was cold. “Too much effort?”

“No, Iz.” Your veneer of apathy had been demolished, your voice weakening as a result. You paused before admitting, “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

He stared at you in disbelief. This wasn’t something you’d confessed to anyone, even when Izzy had tried to teach you before. He always quit and stormed off in frustration before he could get this far. He rolled his eyes.

“Then, you’re an idiot for becoming a pirate.”

You didn’t respond. He took this as an invitation to continue.

“So, even after you almost fucking died, you’re not going to-”

“I almost died?” you questioned.

He froze. It appeared as though the rest of the crew had become tense at that moment, too.

“You never told me that. I thought it was just a normal stab wound, not... a near-fatal one. I mean, he got me in the safe side.”

Izzy cleared his throat.

“You almost bled out.” he faltered. 

“The Captains said not to tell you.” Lucius blurted. “They didn’t want you to worry while you were recovering.”

You swallowed your saliva.

“Okay.” You looked back at Izzy. “That doesn’t change my mind- I don’t want to even be capable of killing someone, Iz. And, I don’t care if you think that makes me a useless, pathetic idiot. If you really think that little of me-” You shrugged nonchalantly, almost mockingly (nope- not your best moment). “You can just let me die next time, eh?”

Taking in a deep, trembling breath, he clenched his jaw. You looked back at him blankly, almost coldly. He shook his head and stormed off.

━━━━━━━━━

Following your lesson with Izzy, you returned to swabbing the deck. In fact, most of the crew resumed working, too. The atmosphere had been uncomfortable ever since Izzy left. Sensing you weren’t in the best mood, everyone decided to leave you alone, until-

“Hey, mate.”

You turned around and forced a smile to mirror his.

“Hey, Ed.” you greeted. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah. I just thought we could have a quick chat.”

“Okay...” you answered hesitantly. “What about?”

Though, you had a horrible, sinking feeling it was about-

“The thing that happened with Iz earlier.”

You bit your lip. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. 

Neither Ed nor Stede had been there to see it, you thought, so someone must have mentioned it to them.

“Do you know why he wanted to teach you how to use a sword?”

“To make me a less pathetic pirate?”

“No.” Ed shook his head. “It’s the same reason he took care of you.”

You stared at him uncertainly. He placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“He... cares about you.”

“He cares about me?” you repeated incredulously.

“Mhm.” he nodded. “Thinks the world of you. After you got hurt, he was beside himself. Lashed out at the crew... more than usual, I mean. He’s terrified of losing you.”

He paused, watching you take in the information.

“Right, I’ll be off.” he announced.

Your face fell, prompting Ed to pat you on the shoulder. Up until that point, you couldn’t tell if he was a bit pissed off at you too. Izzy was his first mate (and actual mate, at least Ed liked to think so), and it was clear you’d hurt the man who (you now knew) thought the world of you. But, you realised that Ed just wanted what was best for the both of you.

“You can do what you want with that information.” he added quickly. “Just thought you should know, and I don’t think Izzy wanted to tell you.”

With that, Ed left.

━━━━━━━━━

Lucius and Black Pete fell silent when you approached them. They had been leaning against the railing, chatting and admiring the sunset until you turned up.

“Was anyone planning on telling me about Izzy before I made that insensitive comment about my death?”

“You probably shouldn’t ‘ve said it after he told you that you actually almost died,” Pete shrugged. "Even if you didn’t know about his... feelings.”

You let out a sigh. “Probably not, no.”

“You finally figured it out, then?” Lucius asked.

You scratched your neck.

“Ed told me.”

Lucius’ eyes scanned you.

“So, how do you feel about him?”

“I’m not saying it- you already know.” you huffed. “Look, I’m not good at this feelings thing. I know I need to talk to him; I just don’t know what to say.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Lucius smiled and patted you on the arm.

━━━━━━━━━

You decided to have your talk with Izzy before the morning upon Pete’s request (he knew Izzy would be in a bad mood the next day if you didn’t sort things out). So, when night fell, you knocked on the door of Izzy’s cabin.

“What?”

“I need to talk to you.”

He groaned.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m sorry about...well,  everything that happened earlier. I fucked up.”

You heard his approaching footsteps. The door creaked when he opened it. He moved away and stood in the middle of the room with folded arms, leaving it open. You stepped inside, not bothering to close the door.

“I’m really sorry for saying what I said, Iz.” you said softly. “It doesn’t make anything better, but, for what it’s worth, I had no idea that you...”

Izzy watched you expectantly, almost cautiously. “That I what?”

“...Care about me.”

His breath hitched in his throat.

“I... care about you too, Iz.”

He didn’t respond. You swallowed your saliva as you thought about what Lucius had told you to say.

“If I’d ‘ve known that you actually cared, and how important it was to you, I wouldn’t ‘ve just dicked around. So, I’m sorry.” you went on. “And, in hindsight, just ‘cause I’m not that big on the idea of killing someone, it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t learn how to at least block attacks.”

Izzy cleared his throat.

“I can teach you,” Izzy offered, attempting to sound more relaxed than he (clearly) actually was. “If you want.”

You smiled at him.

“Christ, you really must care about me if you’re still willing to teach me.”

He let out a weak chuckle, causing you to grin.

An unexpected feeling of bravery surged through you, prompting you to step closer to him and press a quick kiss to his cheek. You could feel him melt beneath your touch, and less than a second later he tightly wrapped his around your waist. He buried his face in your shoulder, his head resting against your neck.

“Thanks, Iz.” you mumbled. “For everything.”

[absolutepokemontrash]

Hi! So, I absolutely love your series where the MC is the kid of Lucifer, and I was wondering if I could request that with Diavolo and Barbatos? •v•

:0 you definitely can! Right now I’m just doing Diavolo, but Barb’s will be up sometime soon!

MC is Half Demon and Oh Shit They’re Diavolo’s Kid-

Diavolo wasn’t exactly what one would expect of the prince of Hell, I mean, he was suppressing the urge to bounce in his seat from pure excitement. I mean, his exchange program was starting! Humans, demons, and angels, all together, his dream was coming true.

All that was left was for the student to arrive, the portal opened, and the human fell flat on their back. Oof, maybe Diavolo should have set up some kind of landing zone filled with pillows. No matter! The human was-

…

What peculiar eyes this human had…

Oh… oh dear…

Dad-volo

The MC was his child, no question about it. This was… very unexpected. Well, the entire assembly hall was completely quiet, and the kid looked like they were getting impatient.

“HEY! Mind telling me what the hell is going on?!”

After that, Diavolo launches into his explanation, also the explanation that he’s definitely this kid’s dad. Kid was not impressed, they tried to square up with Diavolo and Lucifer had never been more confused as to what to do.

Well, the moment MC sprouted wings and launched themselves at Diavolo, Dia caught them with one hand and continued speaking like nothing happened.

MC, please calm down… Diavolo didn’t know they existed, let him make it up to them! They’re going to stay at the Demon Lord’s Castle! Dia’s going to be a good dad!

“This feels like the plot to the world’s most messed up fairytale.” MC jammed their hands into their pockets and grumbled. “I get sucked into hell and find out I’m royalty there. Great.”

Diavolo managed to smile and awkwardly reach out to give them a pat on the head, then retracted his hand after the kid shot him a glare. “Well, it’s not a very traditional fairytale, but I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time here.”

“Mm, sure.” MC mumbled.

Okay, so his child wasn’t that enthusiastic about the exchange program, but Diavolo was sure they’d come around.

Dia tried everything he could possibly think of to get his kid to both like him and enjoy their time as an exchange student. A lot of things had… mixed results.

Also, legally recognizing MC as his child and legitimizing them caused a big stink amongst the nobles who were opposed to the exchange program to begin with. So MC then had to deal with a few assassins. Wonderful. Fantastic. Show stopping. Dia, be a good dad and comfort your angsty murder target- I MEAN preteen.

They do manage to build a good relationship fairly quickly despite their less than stellar first impressions, and Diavolo made them a promise that he knew he wouldn’t ever break: he would let them live as normal a childhood as possible.

This means that MC gets to do all the normal kid stuff that Diavolo wasn’t allowed to do. It honestly works out great for everyone. MC gets to live their life, Diavolo gets the satisfaction of knowing that his kid’s having fun, and Barbatos doesn’t need to worry about MC causing chaos in the castle.

Man… does this kid’s magic potential scare the shit out of everyone though…

Tired Uncle Lucifer

No. This has to be a violation of his worker rights. It cannot be legal for him to be this stressed.

He knew this exchange program was a bad idea. LUCIFER FUCKING KNEW IT. This kid was judging him. Why did he suddenly feel self conscious about every single one of his features? This child was picking him apart and they hadn’t even said anything!

He confiscated Asmo’s phone immediately, this was a matter of national security! Satan’s too! Beel as- oh shit Lucifer may have to give Beel the heimlich maneuver, then take his phone.

When all the brothers eventually got back to the HOL, they were greeted with Mammon getting shaken down by Levi.

“Lucifer! Ya won’t believe this! Levi- what’s wrong with you?” “The exchange student is Diavolo’s child.” “What..?” “*pops the cork off a bottle of Demonus* the exchange student’s Diavolo’s child.”

The worst part about this kid was that they took to the privileges of being royalty like a fish to water. MC went out and did whatever the fuck they wanted, and Lucifer needed to make sure a state of national emergency wasn’t called just because MC picked a fight at RAD.

It didn’t help that MC was just so unimpressed with Lucifer. Anytime Lucifer would tell them not to do something they would just raise their eyebrows and challenge his authority without saying a word.

What the fuck.jpg

The things he does for his prince boyfriend…

Cool Uncle Mammon

Huh, so this little pipsqueak is Lord Diavolo‘s kid? Hm, do ya think they’d let him into the royal treasury? No? Okay… lame.

Mammon then decides this kid would be just perfect for scamming people! Who is going to say no to the Crown Prince’s kid? A suicidal person, that’s who!

And the kid is… up for it? Wow, Mammon didn’t even have to grovel! Awesome!

It’s such a shame that Lucifer came in and promptly removed MC from Mammon’s presence. Tsk, killjoy…

Mammon and MC do get along swimmingly after MC stops angsting. Whenever they hang out it’s pure chaos.

And they would have gotten away with it too- wait, they do get away with it. Because who’s going to question the Crown Prince’s kid? >:)

Reclusive Uncle Leviathan

Levi was in the middle of throttling Mammon for his money back when Lucifer burst through the door looking like he had spent over 1000 Grimm on a gacha game only to not get the card he wanted.

And where was that human he said would be staying with them? Huh? The human’s HUH????!!!!

… wack. Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped out on that Student Council Meeting…

Either way, ew, new person he needed to talk to. NO THANKS. Well, no thanks until MC started to visit the HOL to hang out with Mammon. Of course those two normies decided to bug him. OF COURSE.

Levi finally snapped when MC loudly proclaimed that they could totally beat Levi in Mario Kart. Haha, NO. Levi challenged the little runt to a 1 v 1 race on Rainbow Road.

Kid lost. Obviously. Rainbow Road is rigged.

Honestly, kid’s alright. Still a total normie, but not completely terrible.

Cat Uncle Satan

Huh, a half human child of the soon to be demon king, how very interesting.

Oh, and just look at Lucifer’s face. :D priceless. Satan wished he was fast enough to get his DDD out to snap a picture, but he wasn’t able to…

But back to MC, oh how very intriguing. How much power do they have in comparison to Diavolo? Will using that power rip their fragile little body apart? Would they learn to control it? Satan was just dying to find out.

His feelings on the child themselves were mixed at best. They were clearly unhappy with the situation and Satan could sympathize, being thrust into a completely new world and then being told you can’t leave and are also royalty? That has to be hard. But this kid was still being an unreasonable little shit.

Satan continued to try and study MC from afar until the kid themselves walked right up to him and half demanded half pleaded for his help in studying for a test.

Not being one to avoid an opportunity to flex how smart he is, Satan agreed to help out. (Nerrrrd)

And honestly, it went well. When the kid wasn’t being a little shit, they were actually quite pleasant to be around.

Overly Affectionate Uncle Asmo

…wut

Listen, when Asmo asked Lucifer to pick a cute human, he didn’t mean cute as in CHILD.

This kid was DIAVOLO’S?! What lucky human had gotten to have the experience of [Jesus Fucking Christ, Asmo I’m not writing what he said for the sake of the nation]

Anyhoo~ little MC just made his heart go “SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO CUTE!” They were so cute Asmo could just eat them up!

But they were so mean! That scowl they always had on was going to give them wrinkles and ruin their perfectly cute face!

Sigh, oh well. He can’t manually rearrange people’s expressions. What he can do is take this child shopping. Poor Diavolo was constantly in his RAD uniform, this poor innocent baby shouldn’t have to suffer the same fate.

The kid continued to scowl at everything, but at the same time, their little quips were very entertaining. This little kid spitting verbal venom at anyone who displeased them reminded Asmo of someone… he just couldn’t place who, but they definitely had amazing hair and a cute face :3

Hungry Uncle Beel

Where’s the takeout- I mean human? What’s happening? …are all humans this small? Dang, that’s barely enough for a snack.

So the human’s not going to live with us because they’re not fully human and Diavolo’s kid? Huh. Wild. Anyway, what’s for dinner?

Beel’s not too invested in this drama, he misses Belphie too much to be that interested…

The kid’s weirdly interested in how cool and strong Beel is though. MC tails him to the gym pretty often.

Diavolo and Beel already being gym buddies send tweet-

Since this benevolent little shit likes Beel so much, they decided to take it upon themselves to help with the family drama.

Beel finds that very sweet 🥺

Murder sleepy Uncle Belphie

Oh man… if you thought Belphie was being unfair to L!MC due to their parentage… hoo boy…

When this kid waltzed up the attic steps like they ran the place, Belphie needed to hold himself back from trying to break down the door and throttle this kid.

Pff, of course Diavolo would have a half human kid. Of course.

…kid beat the shit out of him when he tried to kill them. We stan this MC.

After all is said and done, Belphie still isn’t overly fond of MC. They’re brash and rude and only funny 40% of the time. They don’t even like napping 😒

But Beel likes the little runt, so Belphie and MC put up with each other.

Bonus! Your Angelic Uncle Simeon’s Chihuahua

:0 friend!

MC: *speaks*

>:0 not friend! Begone! *throws crucifix*

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

My Darling Cat Roommate

lmao this isn’t lambden, as the title may suggest. sorry folks

@stinastar hit me with some feels over and modern roommate au where Geralt just doesn’t know what to do to make Jask feel better and this happened. 

Warnings: We go into some Seasonal Affective Depression stuff here so like be careful with that if it triggers you, jask beats himself up a little, mentioning feeling numb at things that usually bring him joy, i swear in this one. I haven’t changed, dont worry lol

_______________________

Jaskier trudged home from work on Friday, exhausted but relieved he had the next week off. He wolfed down the leftovers Geralt had heated up for him and almost fell asleep on the couch before Geralt hauled him up and walked him into his room, where he promptly fell asleep on top of his duvet in jeans and his shoes. Sometime around when early morning coffee workers were getting up he undressed and snuggled under the warm blankets. 

When he woke to Geralt making a smoothie he was prepared to launch into a full ‘morning people’ rant, only to check his phone and realize it was 2pm. So, maybe he’d needed rest. 

It was still grey enough out that he shrugged and went back to sleep. 

When he woke up again it was dark and the TV was going. He wrapped up in his comforter rather than putting on sweats and shuffled out to the kitchen only because his stomach growled when he tried to roll over.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Geralt called over his shoulder as he floated past with the pasta he’d left in the microwave. 

Jaskier just grunted a small “Thanks,” before he disappeared back into his room. He scrolled through various apps as he ate and rolled back into bed. 

He might have fallen asleep, he might not, but he certainly didn’t get out of bed until his bladder absolutely demanded it on Sunday morning. 

Geralt intercepted him in the hallway before he could make it back to his room, “You feeling okay?”

“Hm? Why?” Jaskier took a moment to respond, staring at Geralt like he’d grown a second head. He knew his hair was probably greasy but he couldn’t look that bad.

“You slept all day yesterday.” Geralt looked like he was diffusing a bomb rather than talk to his roommate, “Did something happen at work?” 

Jaskier just shrugged, “I’m just tired.” And a little numb.

Geralt nodded, “I’m headed to the store. You sure you don’t want me to pick anything up for you?”

“I’m okay, Geralt…” he sighed, slipping past his brick wall of a roommate to slink beneath his blankets once again and make himself as small as possible. 

It was late January and the Seasonal Affective Depression was in full swing. He should have bought that fucking happy light when it was on sale. Should have bought the Vitamin D tablets he saw last week. Should have let Geralt drag him to the gym a little more when he felt the initial dip. Should have blah blah blah. He thought over every little thing he knew would have helped that he just hadn’t done and sighed, pulling his blankets tighter around him. He knew he wasn’t going to do any of it until it got bad enough that his hair would stick to his forehead once he hit this point. Might as well hurry it along so it could be over with. 

Geralt knocked on his door, snapping him out of his mini spiral. He hummed, not even bothering to turn over until he heard the rattle of the doorknob. 

“I know you didn’t want anything, but… uh. I was in the bulk section. Got you the peach things.” Geralt’s voice was lower and softer than usual as he raised the frankly massive bag of peach rings for emphasis before he set them on Jaskier’s desk. 

“Than-” Jaskier coughed when his voice came out raspy and broken, “Thank you.”

Geralt leaned against the doorframe for a moment, a curious frown on his face, “Bake Off is on in an hour if you wanna watch it.”

Jask forced a smile and shrugged, “We’ll see.”

Geralt pursed his lips and nodded, pausing a moment before pushing off the doorframe, “Okay.” 

Jaskier stared at the peach rings for a while after Geralt closed the door. Eventually he compromised with his brain and rolled out of bed onto his knees, waddling a couple of steps until he could reach the rings then launch back to bed. 

Normally he would have almost cried with happiness that Geralt had gotten his favorite treat. He loved it when Geralt did little things for him or thought of him enough to give him something, but he felt rather indifferent as he shoved the twentieth peach ring in his mouth. 

Without warning his door opened just enough for a plate to appear and be gently set on his desk.

Geralt muttered, “For the sugar high…” before his hand disappeared and the door once again shut. 

Jaskier almost smiled when he saw the neatly arranged concentric circles of Totinos Pizza Rolls on the plate. He got to his feet to fetch them this time. 

Around ten that night there was another knock at his door that pulled him from an hour long scroll through tiktok.

“Jask?”

“Yeah?”

Geralt held a big grey bundle in his arms, “Do you- Uh. I thought- weighted blanket?” He held his arms out with a hesitant smile. 

Jaskier sat up, “But don’t you use it to sleep?”

Geralt shrugged, unfolding the bean-filled blanket and laying it over Jaskier’s legs, “I’ll be fine.”

Jaskier stared at the ceiling for a while after he left, confused by Geralt’s suddenly attentive behavior. He would have expected the grouchy man to enjoy the silence that came with his bad days. For how much Geralt complained about his loud music, he certainly wasn’t expecting gifts. 

Geralt left a note in the kitchen Monday morning saying he’d made Jaskier a breakfast sandwich with instructions on how to warm it up without it turning soggy. Jaskier stood in front of the panini press reading and rereading the note as he heated his breakfast like it was in Old English. He ate at the kitchen table this time, annoyed with the crumbs in his bed, and counted up all the little gifts he’d been brought. He could come to only one conclusion.

Geralt was part cat. 

He’d stopped functioning and Geralt kept bringing him mice. 

He smirked and sent him a quick text, “Thanks for the breakfast. 👌 V  good.”

After breakfast, he decided maybe he could change his pajamas, but he stayed tucked under Geralt’s weighted blanket for most of the day. Every now and then Geralt would text him something stupid Eskel or Lambert did, or a meme he found on his break, and every time Jaskier would grin and send back an emoji. Words were out of reach but Geralt frequently only communicated in emojis and one-word sentences. He should get the message.

Jaskier fell asleep around two, really asleep not just the fitful light sleep he’d been having the last couple of days. He was rousted from a dream about a talking panini press by Geralt tripping over a pile of laundry and softly swearing as he tried to right himself without crashing into the bed or Jaskier’s lute. 

“Geralt? Darling, what are you doing?”

Geralt finally caught himself and nearly blinded Jaskier with a smile as he straightened up, “Didn’t mean to wake you.” 

Jaskier sat up and scratched at his hair, “Yes, but doing what?” 

“Oh! Yeah. Uh. I-” Geralt, still grinning, pointed to a small fern in a bright orange clay pot sitting on his windowsill. 

“You got me a plant?”

Geralt was practically beaming when Jaskier glanced back at him. 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a cat?” 

Geralt snorted, sitting down on the edge of the bed, “You’re feeling better?” 

Jaskier tilted his head, “I think so? What makes you say that?”

“You called me ‘Darling’.” 

A hesitant smile crept on Jaskier’s face. There was an echo of the usual all-consuming warmth spreading in his chest that he usually felt when Geralt smiled at him. He may indeed be feeling a bit better. Come to think of it he actually wanted to shower.

“I taped Bake Off. If you’re feeling up for a trek to the couch,” Geralt offered, forced nonchalance dripping from every word. 

Jask nodded, “Let me shower, then we can finish off the peach rings.” 

Geralt’s smile nearly stopped his heart, a sure sign he was nearing the land of the living again, “I got lasagna on the way home too,” he chirped as he jumped up and made his way to the door. 

“Hey, Darling?” It felt a little forced and goofy saying the pet name like that, but Jaskier just couldn’t help himself, “Thank you.”

Geralt’s smile softened, “Anytime.”

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 9

@pocketramblr

.

Banjo took Hikage to the side while the other ghosts were still wading through their existential crisis.

"Man," he said, "Hikage, bro. You know I love you."

"You do?"

"Like... at least eighty-five percent of the time."

"Ah, continue."

"But next time you think one of us has a secret relative out there, you've got to say something so we don't get blindsided."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright, then. I couldn't help but notice that both Ninth's mother and 'Tomura' share a strong resemblance to Nana."

"... I've changed my mind."

.

Although Midoriya Inko had abandoned the tech conference as soon as she heard about the attack on the USJ, she, unlike the mist villain, could not teleport. Therefore, Izuku was stuck in the nurse's office even after he had woken up and paramedics had confirmed that his injuries began and ended at bruises and quirk exhaustion. (And a potentially fractured bone in his foot, but that wasn't worth mentioning.)

Sitting next to the police officer with nothing to do was... awkward. Very awkward. His hands itched for his notebooks, but everything they brought to the USJ was evidence, and he hadn't been allowed to go back to the classroom. He wanted to know what happened to his classmates and Mr. Aizawa, who he hadn't seen since he ran away from the plaza and left him with the hand villain, and Mr. Yagi, who had really taken a beating from Nomu. Danger Sense was quiet, relatively speaking, but Float was just waiting to be used and tested.

Plus, he really, really had to talk to Mr. Yagi about that. Loads of his classmates had seen him use Float. How was he supposed to explain having Float right after telling them he probably had a sensory quirk?

Plus, if he got Float, it stood to reason that he'd get all the other One for All users' quirks as well. So he had to figure out how to make Danger Sense, Float, Smokescreen, Blackwhip, and a strength enhancement all look like the same quirk. Which, maybe they were, technically, considering that Monoma had sensed One for All as a single quirk but whatever was going on with the mist villain as multiple quirks...

Point was, One for All definitely functioned as multiple quirks.

Would his friends think he was lying? No, he'd definitely proven Danger Sense existed by predicting, however loosely, the attack.

"Hey, Tamakawa."

Izuku and the officer looked up at one of the detectives who had come to take initial statements. His name was... Tsukauchi, Izuku thought. Mr. Yagi (as Mr. Yagi) was standing behind him.

"I can take it from here. I have a few more questions for Midoriya."

"Yes, sir. Midoriya." He nodded at them as he left the room.

"How are you feeling, Young Midoriya?" asked Mr. Yagi, taking the officer's spot with a slight groan.

"Uh, better than this morning, actually," he said. "But, um, but what about you? That Nomu guy kept, um..." His eyes trailed towards the detective.

"Ah, this is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa. He's an old friend of mine. He knows... well, just about everything about me."

Izuku nodded slowly. "So, he knows about, um..."

"I know about One for All," said Tsukauchi.

"Oh," said Izuku. He rapidly gathered together his thoughts, trying to decide what the most important piece of information he had to impart was. "Do you know what happened to Mr. Aizawa? And Ingenium?"

That was most definitely not a piece of information. Stupid brain.

"The portal villain, Kurogiri, teleported Aizawa off UA grounds, but he was able to get help quickly after that. Ingenium had some injuries that need a specialist, so he went home. They'll be alright, but they'll probably have to take a few days off."

"Yes," said Tsukauchi, giving Mr. Yagi one of the driest looks Izuku had ever seen. "Because you heroes are so good about that."

"Teaching isn't exactly strenuous, Naomasa."

"Remind me again how you got injured this time."

Mr. Yagi made a face Izuku would have found hilarious under other circumstances. "That's different," he said, plaintively.

"Is it though?"

Mr. Yagi coughed. "Now, Midoriya, my boy... I'm sure you have things you want to talk about... I think I glimpsed you soaring through the air, earlier. Did you unlock the enhancement aspect of One for All?"

"No," said Izuku. "Not exactly."

.

"Well," said Mr. Yagi. "That's, hm. Certainly something."

"Sorry," said Izuku.

"You have nothing to apologize for, my boy," said Mr. Yagi, patting his knee. "In fact, it's a good thing that you got Float this time. I'd be at a loss about what to do with Smokescreen or Blackwhip. But I'm fairly familiar with my master's quirk, and, well, there's someone else who I should... get back into contact with..." Mr. Yagi force the words out as if they had physically pained him to say.

Which they might have. He did have the whole... coughing... thing. Maybe he was just trying to hold one back?

"Mr. Yagi? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Okay, are you sure?" He wasn't sure if he wanted to bring the next part up if Mr. Yagi wasn't feeling well.

"Yes," said Mr. Yagi. "I just, hm. It's just... history."

Izuku nodded. "So, um. Did you hear Monoma say that the mist guy - Kurogiri? - had multiple quirks, too? Like Nomu?"

The mood plummeted.

"Yes," said Tsukauchi. "He told me, and I told Toshinori. It appears that Kurogiri's warp quirk is actually several different quirks working as one. Merged together, almost."

Izuku nodded. "I was just wondering... One for All can be passed on, so... are there other quirks like that? Like, if the first person with One for All had family members or something? Or..." Izuku trailed off. Mr. Yagi now looked actively ill. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Toshinori," said Tsukauchi, "you mean you didn't tell him already?"

"In my defense, I thought he was extremely dead."

"What- Who are you talking about?"

"My boy... I think it's time to tell you a story of two brothers..."

.

"So, One for All comes with a built in nemesis? Who may be immortal?"

"That- He's not... It would appear so."

"I am somehow both surprised and not."

.

"There's one more thing I wanted to ask you about before your mother arrives," said Mr. Yagi.

"Please tell me it's not something worse, like me being a descendant of the guy," requested Izuku, picking the worst, most ridiculous thing he could think of.

Tsukauchi snorted, then covered the noise up with a cough.

"I seriously doubt that All for One could maintain a romantic relationship of any kind," said Mr. Yagi, "and even if you were, it wouldn't really matter. I mean, his own brother hated his guts."

.

"That's a bit extreme..." murmured Yoichi.

"Considering some of the rants we've gotten you to go on," said En, "it really isn't."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But the rest of it-" Yoichi promptly left to harass Second and Third.

"How can you two be so close and yet so far?" mourned Nana. "How are you so smart and so dumb at the same time?"

"In Ninth's defense," said En, "he doesn't know what All for One looks like."

"Surely he knows what his father looks like. He sees his picture almost every day," said Hikage.

"Admittedly, I could have phrased that better, but are you rubbing that in, or are you serious? I've known you for, like, half a century and I still can't tell."

.

Despite the example being a joke, Izuku felt much better after hearing that.

"But, no, this subject is relatively neutral and nothing so dramatic. I was hoping to get your permission to tell young Aizawa about One for All."

Izuku opened and closed his mouth several times. "H-huh? Why? And why do you want my permission? You don't need my permission."

"One for All is your quirk, now," said Yagi, "and your secret. It's up to you who knows about it. Outside of an emergency, I suppose. As for why in general..." Mr. Yagi sighed. "There are things young Aizawa needs to know about the villains with multiple quirks and All for One. I can't tell you the details right now, but with how One for All is manifesting in you, if he only knows about All for One, it would be very easy for him to make incorrect assumptions."

"Oh," said Izuku. He could certainly see how that could be dangerous. He didn't want his teacher to associate him with a villain like that.

"Also, if he knows what's happening, it will be easier for him to help you," finished Mr. Yagi hopefully.

Izuku thought about it. "I guess that would be alright. But... He's not the only person who'll know about my quirk being weird and All for One, right? I mean, the Hero Commission, at least..."

"To be entirely honest with you, I tell the HPSC as little as possible about All for One and One for All."

"What? Why?" asked Izuku.

"Well-"

"Izuku!"

"Mom!"

"I'll explain later," said All Might quickly.

.

Kurogiri passed a damp washcloth over the burns on his neck. The metal of his collar was a conductor, and the charge the young man with the electricity quirk had sent through it had been significant. It was only natural for it to get hot, for it to burn.

He should go to the Doctor... Some of the collar's functionality seemed to be damaged. He brushed his mist covered fingers over the cool metal.

Tomura wouldn't tell the Doctor. Kurogiri cared deeply for Tomura, but the young man was certainly shallow and unlikely to realize the extent of Kurogiri's injuries. He was more likely to focus on his own, not insignificant, wounds.

In contrast to those, Kurogiri's paled. He wasn't nearly as important as Tomura, after all.

It should be fine to let his wounds and the collar be. It would do what it was supposed to and protect the vulnerable areas of his body, internal damage or no. He just had to be careful of the burns becoming infected, especially since he couldn't see them.

Sometimes, he wished his body was like it was before...

Kurogiri frowned at the thought even as it faded from his consciousness. He had been created by All for One fully formed. His body had always been like this.

Hadn't it?

.

Shouta had been in and out of consciousness the past few hours. Apparently he'd never been in serious danger of dying, except from shock, which was just his body being dramatic and didn't count. All his major organs were free of serious damage. He just had to regain his stamina so that Recovery Girl could heal him up, and then he'd be fine.

Unlike Tensei, apparently, who had cracked one of his engines, which needed specialist help and surgery to realign the pieces. Or All Might, who had taken hits to his old injury, and needed to take time off or lose more time from his hero form. Or his students, who hadn't been seriously injured but who were probably traumatized.

The last time he had woken up, though, Hizashi had been there. Now, All Might, Nezu, and Detective Tsukauchi were there.

"Thought I already gave my statement," said Shouta.

"You did," said Tsukauchi.

"We're here to give you more information about the attack, I'm afraid," said Nezu.

"Information I won't like?"

"It can wait until you feel better, of course."

"That's illogical," said Shouta. "The sooner I get the information, the more time I have to process it."

All Might, Yagi, sighed. "Nomu and the portal-using villain both had multiple quirks."

Shouta frowned. "You mean, they had quirks with multiple aspects?"

"No," said Nezu. "As Yagi said, they had multiple quirks. This was confirmed by both the villains' comments and by Monoma, who made contact with the portal villain and was able to copy multiple quirks."

"Kurogiri," said Shouta. "That's what the other one called him. Shigaraki."

Nezu nodded. "Indeed. We weren't sure you had heard that." He tapped his paws together. "What we are about to tell you is classified. We are only sharing it with you because of your unique position and history."

"In the wrong hands, it could cause a lot of damage," said Yagi.

Only two things kept Shouta from leaping out the window and escaping: the fact that he was basically immobilized in plaster casts and the fact that his students were already involved in whatever this was.

"Great. What is it?"

"To begin," said Tsukauchi, "Monoma said he was able to copy three quirks from Kurogiri."

"That's up from what he could do before," observed Shouta. Stress did push quirks to improve, sometimes, although Shouta hated for the improvement to be associated with trauma.

Tsukauchi nodded. "He made note of that as well. He said he picked up a quirk that allowed him to turn his body parts into portals that led to other body parts, a quirk allowed him to temporarily teleport his body parts, and..." he trailed off.

"And a quirk that at the very least bears a strong resemblance to Shirakumo Oboro's Cloud."

"What are you saying?" asked Shouta, ignoring the way his heart had almost stopped.

"At the moment? Only that it is very strange that Kurogiri had a quirk like that, and sent you to the place where Shirakumo Oboro died."

"Oboro would never-"

"We're not saying that," interrupted Yagi. He coughed into his hand. "There's more context. Have you ever heard of the quirk bogeyman?"

.

"I can't wait to never sleep again I'm my entire life," said Shouta.

"Wait," said Tsukauchi, "it gets worse."

"How could it get worse?"

"Naomasa, you're supposed to be on my side," complained Yagi.

"I am. That's why I'll stop Eraserhead here from trying to kill you after you finish explaining."

"Well, it has to do with young Midoriya's quirk..."

.

"Let me get this straight, you gave the quirk with an immortal supervillain archenemy attached to a child... and didn't tell him that the supervillain existed."

"When you say it like that, it sounds really bad-"

"It is really bad-!"

.

"If I'd known he was still alive-"

"What part of immortal do you not understand?"

"Shouta, I, too, believed that All for One-"

"Shut up, Nezu! I don't have the energy to be mad at both of you right now!"

.

Yagi, Tsukauchi, and Nezu were all shown out by an irate nurse while a different but equally irate nurse replaced the plaster cast on Shouta's arm.

It had definitely been worth it.

.

Just because school was canceled, that didn't mean training was canceled.

... except it did, both because Inko was too stressed to let Izuku out of the house, and because Mr. Yagi had a meeting to go to about the attack.

But the second day after the attack was a different story!

That morning, Mr. Yagi pulled up in front of Izuku's apartment in Hercules (still so cool!) and picked him up.

Izuku bounced enthusiastically into the car and then froze. "Oh my gosh, what happened to your eye? Was it a villain? How hard did they hit you?" his hands fluttered. "I have some cream-"

"Oh," said Mr. Yagi, "no need, young Midoriya! I, er, sort of deserved it. It's a sort of reminder to take it easy, too. People would be disturbed to see All Might with a black eye, after all!" He smiled, then winced.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very. You should buckle up, my boy."

"Oh, right," said Izuku. "So, where are we going? You said there was someone you wanted to introduce me to."

"Yes," said Mr. Yagi. "My old teacher. It's been a while since I've seen him. Hopefully he won't make up for lost time with a kick to the face..."

"What?"

"Don't worry about it."

When Mr. Yagi spent most of the way over muttering about kicks to the face and head, Izuku decided that he should, in fact, worry about it.

.

The broken-down building was not what Izuku had been expecting.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" asked Izuku.

"Absolutely," said Mr. Yagi, who was shaking somewhat. "This Pavlovian response only confirms it."

"Um." The building looked condemned. "Maybe he moved."

"One can only hope," said Mr. Yagi. "Maybe you sh- No. I have to see this through." He steeled himself visibly, squaring shoulders. "Please not a kick to the face," he said, under his breath.

"Is he really that bad?" asked Izuku.

"My boy, I guarantee you that he's worse."

.

"Poor kid has no idea what's coming," said Banjo. "Although we wouldn't have believed it either if we weren't riding along and watching."

"Nana," said En, "I just want to reiterate that I'm very glad you never thought about giving One for All to Gran Torino."

"Come on. Sorahiko isn't that bad," protested Nana.

"We know," said everyone else, "he's worse."

.

They walked up to the apartment building door. Mr. Yagi sighed heavily on seeing the door was hanging open, which was a radically different reaction than what Izuku would have expected.

"Is Danger Sense doing anything?"

"I don't think so?"

"Let me know if that changes."

"R-right," said Izuku. Mr. Yagi pushed the door in, and Izuku followed cautiously after him.

They went down a few hallways, peeking in rooms. Then they got to the kitchen, and Izuku covered his mouth with both hands with a gasp at the grisly, bloody scene. Gran Torino laid on the floor in a pool of red liquid. "Oh my gosh, he's-"

At the same time, Mr. Yagi said, "At least it's not a kic-"

The supposedly dead hero was suddenly airborne, and flying towards Mr. Yagi, foot first. Specifically, at his face. "You thou-"

Danger Sense spiked. It was a tiny spike, but still.

Izuku reacted. Specifically, with nerves shot by the USJ attack, he reacted violently, lashing out with a fist, swatting Gran Torino out of the air and back into the puddle of what was, in retrospect, probably diluted ketchup.

For a moment, everything was silent.

"Oh my gosh," wailed Izuku. "I assaulted a senior citizen!"

Gran Torino bounced back to his feet. "I like this kid, Toshinori!"

"I'm... glad?"

"Now show me what you've g-"

"Gran, please, we're only here for quirk help, not battle training."

"What's the difference? You're going to want to use it in battle eventually, right?"

"I mean," said Izuku, hesitantly, feeling like he had whiplash several times over, "yes?"

"See?"

"Just help with controlling Float. Please." Mr. Yagi pressed his hands together. "Please do not pick a quirk fight with a civilian teenager. Please."

"We are on private property."

"Assault is still illegal on private property."

"He's the one who hit me!"

"I know! I'm so sorry," said Izuku, doing his best to bow in the cramped space. "It was a reflex."

"After you attacked me!"

"Yeah, but you knew I was going to do that!"

"That doesn't make it better!"

Gran Torino turned to Izuku. "Kid, I don't know how you did it, but it looks like you made this big softy grow a backbone. Next step is to see if you can get him to do this with Mirai, too."

"Um," said Izuku. "I think he already had a backbone? He's All Might, after all."

"Nah, he's just a giant spindly amoeba who needs to take better care of himself."

Mr. Yagi slumped.

"But back on topic," said Gran Torino, eyes much sharper than before. "Do you really have Nana's quirk, kid?"

"Y-yeah. I think so. It was only a little bit, during the attack, but... yeah."

"Let's see what you can do with it, then."

"Um," said Izuku.

"Gran, maybe you should get cleaned up first? Young Midoriya and I can take care of the kitchen..."

"You don't know how to turn it on, do you?"

"Not really, no," said Izuku.

"We've got our work for today cut out for us, then, don't we, you zygotes?"

Wow. Gran Torino really did call people zygotes.

Wild.

[senju-sekhmet]

'Hot’ is just a matter of definition

Summary: It felt like any other morning - you surely felt like every other morning - except for a certain kind of warmth. Perhaps some soreness that made your muscles ache? Of course you wouldn't slow down simply for feeling a bit hot - Tobirama strongly disagrees. 5600 words I really wanted to do a funny comfort piece, so this is a little self-indulgent! It sat on my shelf for a while before I was happy with it, smh. Thanks for all the help, @avversiera-writes 🥺 Warnings! Illness, fever talks, and slightly suggestive undertones (SFW though!) Read on AO3!

The first sign should’ve been this awful chill that ran through your bones the moment you opened your eyes. It was an early rise, like usual, but something was different. Blinking slowly, your lazy gaze found the window and the brilliant, red sunrise that was hinted at by how the crimson hues were hitting the buildings you could peek at. 

And unsurprisingly, the man whose arms were wrapped around you, legs intertwined with yours gave a rather disgruntled huff as he registered your movement. Tobirama would fiercely deny being clingy (That’s ridiculous!) but despite the two of you usually falling asleep on each side of the bed (that is, if you went there at the same time or haven’t been down to friskier activities before), he’d  always  find his way around your body during the night somehow to completely enclose it with his. No, he wasn’t just a bit clingy, he was a real cuddler. One time you dared to make a small tease about such being the case, but you were only met with fierce denial, a bright red face and incoherent mumbling (Childish… I do not  cuddle…). It was adorable, really.

Honestly though, you wouldn’t deny loving it, either. To know that in the privacy of your bedroom, one might argue the most private room of a house, he’d become this relaxed was endearing - charming, even - especially considering in public, he was vastly different about physical affection.

Except when you wanted to really rise up; then the complaints started. Unless Tobirama got up before you did, his limbs would tangle yours more and he’d make miffed grunts. All within the time limit the two of you had for the morning, of course.

This morning, though?

You shifted a little bit from your position to lay more on your back, to which Tobirama gave yet another unamused sound. Your muscles ached slightly. Maybe you needed to stretch a bit today. 

“Nnnghn…”, he mumbled, and the arm that was wrapped around your chest to hold your shoulder tightly snuck a little higher to caress your neck.

“Tobi…”, you sweetly began, a whisper. 

“Hm,” came the answer, but this time a lot more conscious - and ponderous. One scarlet eye blinked open and Tobirama’s forehead was worried by fine wrinkles. “Hmmm,” he hummed again, the hand on your neck trailing up even higher, to your cheek.

You chuckled a little bit at the comical embrace he was giving you. “What’s up?”

His other eye opened and out of nowhere - “You’re hot.”

You blinked. “Why, I wasn’t expecting such unabashed, eloquent flattery in the early morning.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly. “Your body temperature is above average. Quite a lot, in fact.” You let your eyebrows tilt up in a rather hurt pout. “That is the least sexy way I’ve ever heard someone say ‘You’re hot’.”

Tobirama gave a low growl then suddenly and you only felt the bed shift - then he was above you, steading himself with an arm on each side of your chest, legs still tangled. If it wasn’t for the deep frown etched into his mien, you’d find this, in fact,  hot  . “That is because I am in no way referring to your looks, Y/n!” Although momentarily - momentarily - his gaze flickered down your body, covered in nothing but a light nightgown.

You raised an eyebrow expectantly. 

His scarlet stare was right back at you, burning in intensity - and yet there was a glint of something in them. “I am, of course, not saying you could not be considered metaphorically ‘hot’,” he began then, his baritone voice low and sultry, clinging to something.  Something that was wiped away in the blink of an eye when it became stern only. “But right now you are also hot  literally.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at him and tell him that has got to be the second worst way of being told you’re hot, but before you could get a word out, the man had plastered his hand on your forehead and you felt his chakra connecting to your network; smoothing over it gently in an inward caress you reciprocate swiftly, tenderly. You’d never grow tired of this. Of course, it lasted only a moment - he intensified the connection to gain a closer look at your body, his presence inside of you growing stronger as he took to examine you briefly in order to ascertain the origin of the ‘hotness’ you chose to flippantly call it.

Except you were not having any of it. “Tobirama, I’m fine, honestly.” Your hand moved to grasp the wrist of his arm to gently remove it from your forehead.

His presence inside you instantly flickered - bristled. “Y/n,” came the prompt, stern answer and you could swear the pressure on your forehead, hips and legs increased slightly.

This was getting ridiculous. “This is absurd. I feel good, so what if I’m  extra hot? Might be getting a cold, there is no need to fuss.”

His eyes flew open again to spare you a furious glare. “For a common cold it’d be very unusual to be burning up as you are,” he began firmly and you had to forcibly bite back on commentary or another eye roll lest his lecture would grow. “Now if you’ll keep your smart mouth closed for a few more moments, I could finish this.”

You jutted your lower jaw forward. “You love my smart mouth.”

His eyebrows rose slowly and for a few seconds, he seemed entirely impassive. Suddenly, you felt his chakra inside of you jolt, zigzagging through your network so abruptly you gasped. It wasn’t unpleasant so much as it was unexpected - and intense. Momentarily his presence within you was so strong, so potent, you felt you could nearly grasp his thoughts and emotions with your own chakra - and yet at the same time, he was so active, so seizing - it felt quite possessive.

“You’re-”, you huffed, ready to retaliate letting your chakra swell to retort.

“Quiet, let me work,” he grunted, closing his eyes again, focusing on the connection you two shared. The smirk in his voice had been unmistakeable, though, as was the slight tilt of the corner of his mouth.

Unfair. He was being unfair. However you weren’t swayed, either. “There’s no need for this. And you need to relax.” Again you felt the connection swell though, much more gentle as he continued the examination and you were given just a low, warning rumble to let him get it done. Only a moment later he gave another disgruntled hum, his scarlet gaze now mustering you now.

You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Well? Happy now?” you snapped, perfectly miffed. On the one hand the concern was endearing, on the other hand...

His face was scrunched in deep ponder. “I’m unsure. I can’t pinpoint anything for sure, but perhaps there was something about your lungs-”

You felt yourself bristle. “I’m not staying here on some cryptic ‘perhaps’ from my very overprotective husband. May I, now?” Already, you wriggled beneath him to free yourself and get up. Your muscles really did ache a bit - you definitely needed a stretch.

Tobirama’s gaze narrowed again. “I don’t think you should be moving around today, Y/n.”

That did it. Darkly, you articulated every word perfectly clear: “Tobirama, I’m not joking. Move.”

Reluctantly - as you could tell by his stiff body - he shifted to the side to release you. His intense gaze never left you, though you couldn’t spare him more than another roll of your eyes at this point.“This might only be the tip of the iceberg," he warned, you could  hear  the frown in his baritone voice still.

However, you had already gotten up and were standing, staring down at Tobirama with equal sternness. “Or you need to rein it in again.” You shrugged as though that’d ease the soreness in your muscles - it didn’t - and then tilted your head a little. “I feel a bit cold, in fact, so how about that.”

His scarlet eyes widened slightly at that statement. Promptly he scrambled to get out of bed himself. “Y/n-”, he began, downright chastising - but you had already spun around and were heading for the bathroom of your house.

“Enough fussing, dear husband, we have a lot of work to do,” you reminded him in a playful tone. Talking of work was bound to get his focus elsewhere than your imaginary symptoms.

_______

Or so you thought.

Once you finished in the bathroom (admittedly, you did feel a little bit lightheaded) you headed to join him in the living area for a small breakfast (and maybe, just maybe also a bit shaky?). The heady smell of tea hung in the air; you couldn’t help but smile lightly. However the room felt quite cold - had he opened the windows? Tobirama already was sitting cross-legged at the low table, reading documents he had strewn over it last night. When you entered the room, his head snapped up and the scarlet gaze had you pinned, eyes narrowing again.

“Don’t,” you sternly cut him off before he could even say anything like ‘Get back into bed’, shaking your head before sitting down across from him, pouring yourself a cup of tea for yourself.

Tobirama rested his chin on his balled fist. The frown must be etched into his face at this point. “You look pale.” His baritone voice was deceptively smooth.

Your hand clenched around your cup of tea, eyebrows furrowing. “You know, I could say the same about you.”

A single white eyebrow arched up. “Unsurprising, as my complexion is rather pale.” The fine smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth again.

You crossed your arms defensively. A shiver ran down your spine. Since when was the room so cold? “I am very well capable of judging myself to see if I am fit for work. Which I am.”

The smirk faded and he dropped his hand to the table, straightening himself. You had to drag your hand over your face in order to keep yourself from rolling your eyes at him again. As you did so you couldn’t help but notice - your face  did  feel a bit warmer.

“Why are you being so stubborn about this, Y/n?”, Tobirama began, his deep voice stern again. You blinked to find his scarlet eyes staring at you intensely again, his facial features hard as ever. Maybe it was your imagination, but there might have been a tinge of worry to his tone. “I’m not imagining anything. If I had to take a guess, you’re actually not telling me everything.” He tilted his head. “Are you feeling dizzy?”

An exasperated groan escaped your mouth before you could help it, but this time you did roll your eyes. Your hand slapped down on the table. “For the last time, Tobirama - I’m fine. It’s just a little fever - did you open a window or something? It’s so cold in here, I’m shivering.” You ran your palms over your arms, feeling the chill creep into you.

You didn’t think this was possible, but the wrinkles of Tobirama’s frown became even deeper. “I did not, Y/n.” 

You blinked in surprise. “Huh.” As much as you hated to admit it, Tobirama’s fever theory might hold more merit than you wanted to give him credit for. Worse yet, you had to tell him.

Tobirama’s intense stare was wrought with worry at this point, bereft of any of the smugness you might’ve been expecting from him. “Are you ready to believe me now?” he inquired drily, his voice carrying a caustic note.

You sighed and crossed your arms in front of your chest, leaning back slightly. Momentarily you dared to close your eyes - when you did, your eyelids felt weird against your eyes, the ache in your muscles seemed worse - you couldn’t help but sigh. “Maybe.”

Tobirama was rubbing his temples with his thumb and index finger when you were eyeing him again, the fingers of his other palm were drumming impatiently against the table. “A monumental progress, compared to earlier, I’d say,” he commented, still rather drily.

“I’ll just work on what paperwork I’ve left at home, then.”

His palm slammed so swiftly on the table you jolted in shock, concerned for the paper under his cup of tea. Luckily though, he had drunk enough of it already. However his gaze - the scarlet stare was burning from intensity again. He didn’t just look pissed - he was furious. “What is it going to take to make you rest? Lie in bed? Sleep?”

Your mouth hung slightly open at his sudden outburst. Of course, you had guessed he wasn’t  pleased  with your negligence of your symptoms, but this right now seemed rather over the top. “I can… read in bed?”

Tobirama continued to stare as though you had just suggested to strip naked and run through the village.

“It’s just reading, Tobi.”

“What’s so difficult about staying in bed and recovering?” he snapped, perfectly exasperated now. Suddenly he sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, ran a hand through his white, spiky hair and rose to his feet swiftly. “Alright. Let’s get you to bed first.” The tension in his tone was tangible and briefly, you contemplated just… humoring him. For a bit?

He rounded the table to offer you his hand in order to get up, which you gingerly took. With a courageous tug he helped you to your feet - and your vision blackened momentarily. You swayed forward; Tobirama already seized your waist with his free arm pulled you flush against his body to steady you. His deep voice was next to your ear when he spoke; your hand grasped his black shirt for support. “Y/n?”, he was done veiling the concern in his tone with fury.

You shook your head. “Just a brief dizziness.” Already, your vision cleared; though your heart still pounded in your ears. “I’m - I’m okay.”

Tobirama didn’t take time to comment that but rather started guiding you towards your shared bedroom. His frown was etched into his forehead again, his lips a tight line. All the time he’d glance over to you with his sharp glance, but the tension never left the taut muscle of his jaws. His arm remained tight around your waist for the whole way back to bed too; he wasn’t letting go at all. Not that you minded. You did feel a little bit wobbly, and even if it just was to humor him, you wouldn’t take any chances now. Once in the bedroom his grip turned utterly tender; carefully he helped you lie down and pulled the blanket up to your chin. 

You gave a wistful sigh as your sore muscles finally got their rest again and the blanket was warming you. “Maybe… this isn’t such a bad idea, after all,” you mumbled, hopefully quiet enough Tobirama wouldn’t hear you.

He did, of course. With a dry chuckle he was already turning towards the window. “You’d be astonished how many good ideas I have, Y/n,” he quipped, closing the blends of the bedroom to render it a lot darker.

“How am I going to read like this?”, you promptly inquired, propping yourself up on your elbows again to rise in protest.

Tobirama cast a dark glare your way and instantly stalked over to your side again; sitting down on the bedside to push you back down onto the mattress with a certain kind of stern finality that still held a marvellous amount of gentleness to his touch. “You aren’t. Sleep now. I’ll leave you water and tea here and get you your documents later.”

With a sigh and yet another roll of your eyes you allowed him to pull the blanket up again once you were back on your back. “Are you, now.”

Tobirama rose to his feet again and simply regarded you with one quirked up eyebrow. “You are correct. We should wait and see how you are feeling later, actually.”

“You’re impossible. As if you’d be lying in bed just because of a little fever rather than work,” you bit back, perfectly miffed again.

Tobirama was unimpressed, though. “I’m being realistic. And unluckily for you, I’m not the one running a fever. Now, I have to drop off some documents for elder brother and check some other things at the office, then I’ll make sure to stick around,” he announced, but before you had any chance to tell him how truly, utterly, lucky you felt to have him hound your recovery, he was out of the door - which he closed, of course.

He had all but ignored your notion that he, in fact, would never stay in bed.

Well, maybe some sleep really would help you.

________

 Tobirama’s steps were spurred on by the same urgency that he had coaxed you into bed with earlier in the morning. He despised that out of all the days at the Hokage’s office, today seemed to be tedious and slow going. Naturally, everyone around him was subject to his mood, but right now his patience was thinner than usual. As a result, everyone kept out of his way - which was good, because then he’d work quicker - but also bad, because some of these things he couldn’t finish alone. Did he feel bad for snapping at someone for a simple slip up in the inbox? Absolutely not. Order was vital. Or shouting that some instructions for the training regimens at the academy still had not been finished? Please, these things had been due for one day already. 

If everyone just worked a tad faster -

It was futile.

He had to blame himself in part, really - he had been foolish enough to think he’d be done here swiftly and therefore had not left a shadow clone with you. Better yet, sent a shadow clone here to deal with these  menial tasks as he had dubbed them by now.

But that admission of guilt didn’t exactly do anything to improve his mood. Right now, he was standing in front of his elder brother’s broad desk while he was signing off permits for the growing commercial district of the village. Once that was done - Tobirama could finally use his hiraishin seal to get out of here.

That also most likely was the reason he was staring Hashirama down like a hawk, arms crossed in front of his chest, muscles tense. The scarlet glare was dark enough, bystanders might think he’d go for his brother’s throat any time.

Hashirama wasn’t fazed in the slightest, though. Tobirama’s moods have long since stopped to really impress him. Now, he didn’t make a point of being extra slow, but he made sure to keep track of all these things he was supposed to sign.

Even so - “You seem extra sour today, Tobirama.”

“Really? Whatever made you notice, elder brother?”, he answered drily, physically restraining himself from barking at his brother to just keep reading and not talk to him.

Hashirama raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me, or will you keep spewing sarcasm?”

Tobirama rolled his eyes and gazed at the ceiling momentarily - was there any point in delaying proceedings to tell him? But then again, maybe his brother could help. His gaze swept back to Hashirama. “Y/n is sick. I want to get back home quickly.”

Hashirama sat down the paper he’d been holding and furrowed his eyebrows. “Sick? What’s wrong?”

“She’s running a fever. Now, the quicker we finish, the quicker I’ll be back to check on her.” Tobirama’s grip on his arms tightened. While his brother’s concern was charming - it was just delaying his return to you. He was late anyway. What if you were worse off now? Inadvertently his mien darkened a fair deal, and the glare he regarded Hashirama with was nothing short of lethal now.

Hashirama’s concern wasn’t subsiding, either. “Then go. I can finish this alone. If I have any questions, I’ll ask you later. Do you want me to come by in the evening?”

Tobirama blinked. The suggestion was convenient - too convenient for his liking, almost. His duty towards the village came first. Hashirama’s even more so. You, on the other hand…

He pinched the bridge of his nose, clenching his teeth. Why was nothing ever easy? He hated himself for it right now, he didn’t want to say this - no, he wanted to say, ‘Very well, yes, thank you’ - but no. “The village comes first.”

Hashirama sighed - and then smiled. “Very well. Then I order you to get back home.”

Tobirama’s eyes widened slightly. His brother couldn't seriously be ordering him to - but no, actually he could. He opened his mouth to protest - but with a wave of his hand he dismissed himself. He’d take this gift for what it was. “Thank you, elder brother. It would be good if you visited later.”

He simply nodded. “Give Y/n my well wishes.”

Already, the world lurched around Tobirama as he invoked his hiraishin seal in your shared living room. And in the blink of a second, he was standing in it - heading straight for the bedroom. Finally. He should have been here much sooner.

Before he entered, he could hear it - wheezing sounds. Quiet, but laboured breaths from the room you should be resting in. And by the sounds of it, you had been - a miracle. He frowned. Or, a very bad sign. Your adherence to medical orders was almost as bad as Tobirama’s. He quickened his steps, his heartbeat uncomfortably fast now. “Curses,” he muttered under his breath - why, why had he not left a shadow clone with you? 

With more force than intended he slid open the bedroom’s door. You still were in the bed, tucked in - and a fine sheen of sweat glistened on your skin. Your breaths were sounding rattled.

“Y/n,” Tobirama called, chastised almost, as though somehow it was your fault it had gotten this bad. The truth was he was shocked - utterly shocked - and worried. This wasn’t just a fever anymore; he didn’t need to examine you to know his hunch had been correct this morning: Pneumonia.

“Tobi…?”, came your slurred reply, the sheets rustled as you were sitting up.

Instantly he crossed the room to sit down at your side on the bed, his forehead drawn into a deep frown. You were glancing at him through glazed eyes, blinking a few times just before a coughing fit wrecked your entire body.

“M’sorry… Tobi…,” you whimpered after you were suitably recovered.

He had to blink at that. Were you apologizing? “What?” Tobirama’s hands grasped around your upper arms, he shook his head. “Lie down again, alright?” Your skin was scorching now. You whined uneasily again, tilting your head a little. “Y’sounded so mad right now… you were so mad this morning, too…”, you murmured, but you allowed Tobirama to coax you into lying down again, pulling the blanket over you. If the paleness was anything to go by, your blood pressure was low.

This wasn’t looking good.

“I’m - I’m not mad, love,” he churned out as his hand moved to your forehead to assess your condition again. What nonsense-

But before he could place it there, you had seized it with both palms and pressed it to your chest, your eyes comically wide now. “You’re… not mad? But… you were right… I think… I am a little sick, Tobi. Maybe?”

Tobirama couldn’t have prevented the coarse grunt he gave even if he had wanted to. “Not just a little, Y/n.” Gently, he tried to move his hand out of your grasp, but it only served to tighten it around it.

Your gaze was trained on him, and for a moment, you did nothing but stare. Tobirama’s frown deeped - then suddenly, you shook your head so slowly, he wondered if you even registered the movement. “Nah… You’re right… but I’m not  that  sick. You can be so… smug when you’re right…”, you mumbled - no, you …  giggled?

Tobirama’s gaze widened slightly as you spoke. Had you taken any medicine that didn’t agree with you? Was the focus of your infection perhaps not the lung, but the brain? “... Y/n? May I examine you?”

Your lower lip quivered. “Tobi,” you wantonly moaned now. “I don’t… want you to be mad ‘cause I didn’t… believe you, though,” you gave a sigh - at least that’s what Tobirama thought you wanted to do - but it ended in more coughs.

With a cocked eyebrow he continued to observe the theater that unfolded before him, your grip on his hand was steely. At least your strength seemed to be faring well. The same couldn’t be said for your mind.

“You get so… snappy when you’re pissed,” you continued suddenly, your gaze sweeping down to the hand you clutched like a stuffed animal. Your thumbs started caressing it and your lips formed a small pout. “That’s kinda… exhausting… but also funny sometimes, you know? … your sarcasm, mhm…,” you continued, trailing off into more incoherent mumbling.

Tobirama restrained himself from rolling his eyes at your nonsense and simply opted for using his other hand if you weren’t going to relinquish the one you were  cuddling  now. Softly, he placed it on your cheek and closed his eyes. Already, his chakra began to graze over your network -

Except then you  nuzzled  into his touch, throwing off his focus. His eyes flew open. “Y/n,” he reprimanded sternly, “Let me focus for a moment here, alright?”

You hummed contently, though. “You’re always so… focused, Tobi… Super focused...”

Tobirama really fought to say his next words in the nicest way possible - “Y/n, you aren’t just hot right now, you are burning up, please let me-”

You giggled then suddenly, your face turning so the tip of your nose would brush over his palm. “You said it again.”

Tobirama huffed exasperatedly. “What?”

“I’m hot. You said I’m hot.” More giggles followed - which were interrupted by another coughing fit of yours. Surprisingly, you had the decorum to turn your face to the side Tobirama’s hand wasn’t facing.

However, Tobirama’s patience was running seriously thin - and the last thing he wanted to do was snapping at you of all people. Not to mention in your current state, you probably would not take it well. He didn’t think he could stomach you crying on top of all this.

But then you were nuzzling into his hand again as your hands kept coddling his other to your chest and Tobirama seriously wondered if there was no way to just… gently knock you off whatever trip you were on.

“Y/n,” he began sternly, “You’re seriously ill. I need to examine you now, alright? Will you please let me do that? And stop doing… that?”, he tried to keep his voice even, calm - pleading - but what came out was annoyed.

Your eyes widened instantly. “T-Tobi,” you stuttered, “I’m… s-sorry… you don’t think I’m hot…?”, you asked, as if that was the most important thing in the world right now.

With those doe eyes you were giving him, Tobirama was sure you were convinced it was.

He gritted his teeth.

His dignity didn't want to do this. His logic considered this a stellar idea, though. 

“My love, you are the single, hottest being in the world. Nothing, not even a volcano, compares to your hotness. I see you, I feel you, and every time I’m in awe because of said hotness. I’d never, ever question just how hot you are,” he retorted instantly, with ground teeth, comically tilted up eyebrows and sheer desperation made him fall in line with your utter nonsense if this was what it took to make this work, somehow. 

It did the trick. Your eyes lit up as though he’d just recited a love poem he’d carefully written, no, crafted just for you - in fact, he was surprised you weren’t reaching up to try and kiss him or something like that. Tobirama on the other hand was proud he hadn’t choked on the sheer idiocy he had just uttered.

“Tobirama,” you sobbed happily, grinning broadly. “I knew you do think so…”, you continued, nodding fiercely, “You sometimes give me these… stares… and when we-”

Tobirama’s eyes flew wide open. “Y/n?”

You stopped mid-sentence, your mouth open, eyes wide. “Yes?”

“Can my very hot wife keep still for a moment?”, he inquired, mustering all the pitiful shreds of his patience - and pride - that were left to make his baritone voice sugar-sweet.

Luckily, it worked. You smiled broadly and nodded before stilling completely.

Finally. His hand rested on your cheek more firmly now and once more he closed his eyes. Usually he’d let his chakra caress yours first, but right now he was convinced that’d just do all kinds of  funny  things to you, and before this could get any more embarrassing, he increasing the connection right away to begin examining you. His chakra pelted your network as the workings of your body were revealed to his inner eye: what had been subtle, and easy to miss this morning was a roaring fire now. Undoubtedly the source of your ‘hotness’ - your left lung’s upper lobe was ridden with infection. The whole area was stuffed with mucus. Your heart beat with an elevated frequency, and your blood pressure had dropped.

Surprisingly your brain showed no abnormality at all. It must be the fever talking, literally.

Providing serious medical support in cases of infection went beyond his combat medicine skills. All he could do was support your lung a little by clearing the alveoles a bit - letting his chakra chop away at the stuffed airways that were supposed to be free. Tedious, straining work that wouldn’t help permanently unless the root of the problem was tackled effectively, but it should make breathing easier and lower the burden of infection. 

You on the other hand were making satisfied hums that barely reached his ears as he was sunken in his concentration, entirely wrapped up in the microscopic surgery he was performing, basically.

When he was finished - rather, when the labyrinth of your lungs’ smallest airways was beginning to drive him insane for how his chakra always seeped into yet another corner that was ridden with disease - he retreated.

By the time he opened his eyes, you were sleeping soundly - a fact he was thankful for. He needed to organise some antibiotic medicine for you, and somehow he had a distinct notion you wouldn’t take well to him leaving.

 ________

 Luckily, medicine was easily available as was his brother’s aid - Hashirama came swiftly when a shadow clone of Tobirama’s informed him of your state. With his brother’s medical jutsu and the medicine, your recovery was fast. Around evening, your fever had gone down substantially.

By the next morning, the fever’s haze had cleared. Tobirama was sitting on the edge of the bed with a scroll in his lap as you were blinking slowly at him, wiping sleep out of your eyes. You felt uncomfortably warm - too warm. With a sweep of your arm, the pushed the blanket aside.

Tobirama looked up and his scarlet eyes mustered you intently. He raised an eyebrow, but the smirk that was plastered on his lips was reaching his glance. “How’s your hotness feeling?”

You rolled your eyes and groaned. “Too hot.”

The smirk became a sly grin as he bit back on laughter. You could tell by the way the corners of his mouth wrinkled. Already, he began to sit up, setting his scroll aside. “To think such a thing was possible - I’m in  awe,” he supplied ironically, heading for the door.

Your eyebrows shot up. Time to strike back - it was one thing to quip about your silly remarks during your high fever, but he'd get his share, too. "And to think I made the very eloquent Tobirama Senju say things like not even a volcano compares to my hotness." The smirk on your lips grew as you watched the blood rush to your husbands cheeks.

It did the job. Instantly, his jaw was taut. "Y/n you are well aware I only said so because-"

"Everyday you are in awe because of my  hotness. How  lewd, Tobi," you continued, licking your lips.

He balled his fists, his expression darkened. "You were seriously ill and all you were concerned with was cuddling my hand and being complimented on your looks." Slowly, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his own smirk returning to his lips as he raised one eyebrow. "What does that say about your priorities?"

You turn up your palms and grinned boldly. "I'd say my priorities are damn fine. Just like my looks, as you testified," you winked and raised your hand to blow over a kiss at Tobirama. 

Who caught it, entirely unfazed. The fine eyebrow arched even higher. "I'm glad at least one of us is thinking of the important things then," his tone was perfectly sarcastic now. He turned to leave again. "I'll still see what I can do to tame that incredible amount of hotness."

You whistled to call him back quickly. "Can't you come and lie here, use your calm and cool body for that?"

His head tilted to give you a glance from the side again, an eyebrow rising slowly. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You flashed a grin. "I'd love it."

For a moment, Tobirama was silent. A fine, sly grin spread over his lips as he dipped his head towards you - his baritone voice soft. "Well, too bad for you. A couple of wet towels will do a lot better to lower your temperature than my body, which, by the way, is just a few degrees less, ah, hot than yours." With a wink of his own he was out of the bedroom’s door.

With a dissatisfied grunt, you slumped back into the bed.

Did he just call himself hot?

[serasvictoria]

So this entire thing basically came about because of a silly discussion and that gave me a small idea, but then this morning I got another one so I had to do something with it I guess.

@alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom, @vikingstrash, and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie, this one’s for you.

Sugar

You weren’t entirely sure when this entire thing had started, but you found it difficult to stop now. You kept coming up with the most ridiculous reasons to go up to Hvitserk and Ivar’s apartment and borrowing stuff from them was as good a reason as any. It had all started with the oldest trick in the book.

“Sugar?”

“Yeah. I ran out.” Hvitserk was having a hard time not laughing out loud at your, quite frankly ridiculous, request. “Do you guys have any?”

“Probably? I’m in charge of the snacks, I don’t buy any of other stuff. That’s Ivar’s job.” He jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen and you followed him. “This may take a while.”

You stood in the doorway as Hvitserk started pulling open all the cabinets and drawers. The way that he kept bending over made it feel like he was giving you a show of kinds and you really didn’t mind that one bit, because Hvitserk always wore the skinniest jeans known to man and they emphasized his long legs and his ass perfectly. You made small mental notes of the things that he pulled out of cabinets so you’d know what to ask for at a later time. Rice, pasta, honey, tea bags… you could keep this ridiculous thing going for ages.

“What the fuck are you doing!” All your attention had been so incredibly focused on Hvitserk’s ass, that you nearly jumped a foot in the air when Ivar suddenly materialised next to you. “Look at this mess!”

“I’ll put it back,” Hvitserk waved a hand in Ivar’s direction and didn’t even bother to look up. “She needs some sugar.”

“What!” Ivar looked at you and then back at Hvitserk again. “And why the hell would we keep the sugar down there?”

“I don’t know, man.” Hvitserk sat down on the floor and smiled at you apologetically. “Do we even have any?”

“Of course we do. We’re not fucking heathens.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“Someone might want sugar in their tea.”

“Who?” They’d probably never even had anyone over that drank tea. Beer seemed to be the usual beverage of choice. “So where is it?” Ivar moved into the kitchen, opened the door of one of the top cabinets and pulled out a bag of sugar. “Ah. I was going to look there next.”

“Yeah, sure you were.” Ivar hit Hvitserk’s leg with his crutch and then handed you the bag of sugar. “Bring that back when you’re done.”

“Sure thing. In case anyone wants sugar in their tea.”

Hvitserk snorted with laughter and before Ivar could deliver a scathing reply, you muttered a quick goodbye and got out of there as fast as you could.

“Sugar? What the hell kind of excuse was that?” Hvitserk shrugged and started putting everything that he’d taken out back in again. “You’re doing it wrong, moron!”

You had no idea how many things you had borrowed by now, but after going through almost the entire contents of their kitchen you decided that you needed a new approach.

“DIY?” Hvitserk scratched at his chin as he regarded you curiously. “I know how to use a hammer if that’s what you mean.”

“Good enough for me,” you replied with a smile. “I need to hang a mirror and I’m not allowed to go near hammers anymore.”

“Not allowed?,” he said with a laugh. “You got told off by the DIY police?”

“Something like that. Trust me, you don’t want to know.” He didn’t have to know that you always fixed everything in your apartment yourself. This was just a little white lie to get him into your apartment. “Could you do it for me?”

“Sure. You need me to do it right now?”

“Tomorrow?” You needed time to set your little plan in motion. It would be ruined if he came with you now. “Say, two in the afternoon?”

“I’ll be there.”

He shook his head when you walked away, headed back into the living room and dropped down on the couch.

“What did she want now?”

“DIY.”

“What the hell.” Ivar sighed deeply. “This has been going on for ages. Why don’t you just ask her out already?”

“What? I think it’s cute.” Hvitserk threw a handful of popcorn in Ivar’s direction. “Are you jealous?”

“Why the hell would I be jealous?”

“You know what, why don’t you go round tomorrow and hang that mirror for her.” Ivar was ready to launch into a tirade about how their downstairs neighbour obviously had the hots for Hvitserk, but then his brother used the same line that he’d been using for many years. “Or are you chicken?”

“Fuck off.” Hvitserk started making chicken noises from his sofa until Ivar threw the remote at his head. “Fine! I’ll go! Fucking asshole.”

*****

The idea that you’d had was absolutely fucking genius. It was foolproof.

You’d leave the front door ajar (that was the only part that was slightly risky), Hvitserk would come in, call your name and you’d tell him that you were in the bathroom. He’d walk in, find you completely naked because guess what? You’d run completely out of towels. You would ask for his shirt to dry yourself off with and voila, he’d finally end up in your bed. Surely a guy like Hvitserk would appreciate the effort that you’d put in, right?

You knew he liked you, because he’d started flirting with you from the moment that you’d moved in. His brother, Ivar, was also hot as hell, but he was more difficult to gauge. Hvitserk was easygoing whereas Ivar was standoffish. It hardly mattered now anyway. You’d finally get Hvitserk where you had wanted him for a while, that was the most important thing.

He’d be here at around two. You knew that punctuality wasn’t exactly his thing, so you had taken it into account that he might show up a bit later. Again, it didn’t matter. You’d stuffed all your towels into various clothes drawers to really make it seem like you had just magically run out at the exact moment that he’d shown up. You got out of the shower a little bit before two, just in case Hvitserk was going to be on time, but left the tap on to make it seem like you’d forgotten at what time he was going to show.

A voice called out your name and your heart started beating furiously inside your chest. This was really happening. “I’m in here!” You turned the shower off and swore just loud enough for him to hear. “I’m so sorry! I forgot the time. Just thought I’d have a quick shower.” You pulled the door open, water running down your skin in little rivulets and you put your hand on your forehead to feign stupidity at your current situation. “Can you believe that there aren’t any…” Ivar was standing on the other side of the door, eyes wide and looking you up and down. “...towels left…” For a few seconds, you thought about attempting to cover yourself up with your hands, but it was probably a little bit too late for that now. “Oh fuck.”

“No towels?” He squeaked and then cleared his throat. “How does that even happen?”

“Clumsy?”

“That’s not clumsy, that’s just plain stupid.” You saw his lip curl up as his eyes roamed up and down your body again. “You want me to go back upstairs to get you a towel?”

“What I want is your shirt.” Ivar looked at you with raised eyebrows, not entirely sure what you meant with that. You had somewhat expected that Hvitserk was going to be the one to come to your aid, but Ivar hadn’t exactly run out on you just yet so you just rolled with it. “To dry myself off with.”

Ivar didn’t respond immediately, briefly making you think that this absolutely genius plan had failed completely, but then he took off his shirt in one fluid movement and handed it to you. You had to work really hard to stop your jaw from dislocating when you finally caught sight of his toned chest and used his shirt to cover your face for a few seconds so you could regain your cool. Then you held it in front of your body and gave him a look that you hoped was seductive.

Instead, Ivar took his mobile out of his pocket, aimed the camera at you and took a picture. He tapped on the screen and then you could hear a noise that told you that he had just sent a message. You wanted to ask him what he had just done, but he simply held his finger up to you to silently indicate that you had to wait. About a minute later, you heard a great big crash coming from upstairs followed by loud swearing. You could hear Hvitserk stumbling around in the back of their apartment where his bedroom was which was promptly followed by more swearing.

Ivar turned the screen in your direction with a smirk to show you that he’d just sent a picture of you to his brother and that Hvitserk had sent him back a message that simply read “HOLY SHIT”.

“He’s typing again.”

You moved in close to Ivar so you could look at the screen together and then another message popped onto the screen.

“I am coming downstairs. NOW.”

Ivar put the phone back in his pocket and reached out so he could squeeze your ass. “He was still in bed when I went downstairs so what do you say about us getting started already, hm? To give him something to walk in on?” You giggled and then nodded quickly. “Good girl…”

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 14

A/N: thank you as always to @chloes-yellow-cup for being my bestie and still doing all the things i hate to do. and a big thanks to @kimmania for your constant encouragement and supply of Legos. i love you awesome nerds. 

14.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

Aubrey’s long arm stretched out along the back of the dark leather of the modern style sofa she was settled on. For the most part she could tune out the dry croak from the desk, but…

“Why don’t you hit me with your best shot.”

This was the sixth time in an hour that she was hearing the song. She was going to have to remind Lilly to remove it from the jukebox after tonight.

“Hit me with your best shot…”

The rough warble across from her died down and she thought for a moment that the singer had finally drifted off asleep. Aubrey’s head turned to the screen that showed a live feed of the cameras around The Dirty Bird. Movement flickered though them as Stacie and the Doc walked between the tables and around the bar toward the back office. She turned her head to check on the figure standing but slumped over her desk only to find dark blue eyes watching and waiting for her attention. The small woman raised herself to her elbows from her slouch and belted out just as the door opened.

“FIRE AWAAAAYYYYY!!! Pew pew pew.”

Aubrey sighed as Detective Mitchell’s finger guns gave out on the click of her tongue and she collapsed back over the desk to cradle a half empty bottle of grappa, ass up where she stood. Stacie’s wide eyes panned slowly toward her, body bouncing lightly with barely restrained glee.

“Oh my God….” Chloe took one look at the Detective and pinned Aubrey with a glare. “How drunk is she?”

The blonde raised a shoulder as she considered. “She’s been worse.”

“Doc. Doooooocccc….I hurt. Right. Here.” Beca raised a hand and brought it back to point at her butt. Her finger wavered as she tried to locate the exact spot which caused the most pain and then pointed for emphasis with a little too much enthusiasm. “Right. OW. Here. OWIE.”

Stacie eased onto the sofa and settled in comfortably in Aubrey’s lap to watch Doc Beale work. The redhead moved behind Beca and settled her bag on the desk. She took a great steadying breath before wrestling away the grappa from the prone detective and snapping on a pair of gloves. Aubrey admired the way Doc Beale efficiently and deftly managed to get Beca’s jeans over her hips and halfway down her legs with practiced ease. Beca seemed to admire it too because she stirred enough to look blearily over her shoulder with a smile.

“If you wanted to check out my assetsssss Doc, you didn’t have to wait til I got stabbeded in it. Right. There. Ow.”

“Yes, I see. Please stop poking the wound in your ass cheek. How even….?”

“I was tailing my guy. My big fish. Fishy fishy fishy. That’s a fun word to say.” Chloe muttered something Aubrey couldn’t hear over Stacie’s soft chuckling. “I heard that! Plenty of people would be DE-FUCKING-lighted to spend their date night starin’ at a little of this action.”

Aubrey bit her lip to keep the laugh from breaking free as the detective wiggled her ass unmindful of the tight skinny jeans trapping her legs and toppled into a slide nearly off the desk before Chloe managed to grab and right her teetering form.

“Head down, ass up. Now tell me again how you managed to get stabbed in the butt cheek with glass?”

“You said that like you’re used to giving that order. I might be down for that, just be gentle with me.”

Beca gave her a leer that the doctor promptly ignored as she prepped her tools.

“Detective, remember that I have some very sharp instruments here that I am excellent with.”

Beca gave her a dubious look but obediently turned and bent over the desk again so the other woman could examine the wound. Chloe was utterly focused on the task of cleaning and debriding the punctures in a circular pattern. Aubrey had been sure it was going to require at least a few stitches from what she saw before she called for real medical help.

“I told you. I was following the big fish.”

“And you followed him into a bar I’m guessing.”

“Right, rule numero dos of detectivering. Don’t stick out like a sore thumb.”

Chloe blinked and looked up from her work to focus on Beca. “What’s numero uno?”

“That’s not a real number, Doc.”

“Solid rebuttal.”

“Did…did you just make pun of my rump? Oh my God I’m in love. I’d get down on one knee right now and propose. Except you’re feeling up my butt right now and that’s kinda nice.”

The doctor’s bright blue eyes narrowed and she jabbed the needle into the hunk of flesh she had just grabbed in preparation for the injection. She depressed the plunger quickly as her patient yelped and attempted to squirm away.

“HEATHEN! Oh God. I’m dying. Help. I’m dying, Dr. Kevorkian is killing me….my vision…I can’t see.”

“Open your eyes, idiot. That was just an antibiotic booster. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?”

“Pretend I said whatever answer will prevent you from being a literal pain in my ass.”

It was too much for Stacie and she turned her head to bury her laughter in Aubrey’s neck. The blonde tightened her grip on her fiancée and enjoyed a satisfying laugh at the detective’s expense. She hadn’t known what she’d find when she had gotten Beca’s distress call. They had all been on high alert since coming back to Los Angeles, trying to close ranks as best they could without being obvious about it. She had been waiting for an attack to come and her first thought when she had gotten the call was that it had finally begun. Each moment waiting in her office while Lilly retrieved the Detective from her hiding place in an abandoned warehouse building down at the port had been like a stone on her chest. She had needed this humor to ease the cold grip of fear on her heart.

Aubrey’s line of business didn’t lend itself to close relationships with members of law enforcement, at least not for long. What she and the Detective had was something altogether different than any of the other criminal-cop business agreements she had formed during her career. Beca was someone she trusted at her side, more…trusted at her back. The idea that someone would try to take her out was sobering and her laughter faded. Stacie sensed the change in her and cupped Aubrey’s face gently to bring their foreheads together. Words weren’t necessary for Stacie to understand what she was thinking and feeling. The blonde took a deep breath and straightened her spine. One hand came up to adjust and smooth her tie. If it had started…she wanted to know who was coming for her people.

“So, who’s the fish?”

Beca lifted her head from the desk and struggled to focus on Aubrey. It took her a few seconds to process the question. She seemed to have forgotten the conversation while Chloe worked silently to finish working on her wound.

“A security guard. He’s got bad taste in bars and also what I would loosely refer to as ladies.”

She couldn’t imagine where a security guard would fit in with Alice’s plans and frowned. Maybe this wasn’t about her. Beca had other cases she was working, maybe this was just another Tuesday night for the cop.

“A security guard? Sounds kind of small time for you.”

Denim blue eyes flashed to hers, some of the haze of alcohol burned away by intensity of her drive. The small brunette’s lips quirked into a smirk. Aubrey was suddenly very sure that nothing Beca did was small time or without a very good reason.

“It only takes a small stone in the right place to make a rockslide.”

Chloe slowed her movements as she finished her work. Something about what Beca said must have been interesting to the doctor because she kept her attention on the detective while she cleaned up the trash and peeled her gloves off to toss in the black plastic trash bag left there for that purpose. Aubrey guessed she was re-evaluating her previous estimations of the foul mouthed, perpetually smug, woman.

“You’re not wrong, Bec. So, what’s this small stone guarding?”

“Not what. Where. Dude works at the port.” She grunted and stood gingerly with a backward glance at her own butt. “Hm. Nice, think chicks will dig the scar?”

If Chloe had been considering there may be more to Beca than outrageous flirtation it was only a brief passing fantasy. She sighed and rolled her eyes then glared at Aubrey.

“18, Aubrey.” It was almost enough to make her face split into a grin and she had to turn her chuckle into a soft cough. Chloe tied up the bag and dropped it in the trashcan sure that it would be disposed of carefully. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to patch one of them up, they knew the drill by now. “You owe me so big.”

“I’m good for it. So, Detective, what about this dock rat?”

Beca stopped checking herself out long enough to pull her pants up and wink at Chloe before answering. Doc pretended not to notice but Aubrey could see her watching Beca from the corner of her eye while she played around with the tools in her bag.

“When I figure how he connects to Richie Rich, I’ll let you know.”

Stacie’s body tensed in her arms and Aubrey glanced at her curiously. Her girl chewed her lower lip in thought, a habit that Aubrey found adorable. “Something on your mind, Stace?”

“It’s probably nothing. Just something Edith said about someone I went to prom with. His dad got him a job down at the docks.” Stacie shrugged it off but Aubrey could tell she was still chewing on it. “Probably just coincidence.”

Aubrey and Beca exchanged a look. After a lifetime of double crosses and plot twists, neither of them believed in coincidences. The detective dug around in her pocket for her phone. She wasn’t quite sober yet but a hell of a lot steadier than a few moments ago. Aubrey snatched the phone easily out of the air when it was tossed her way and glanced at the screen.

It was a video and she angled it so Stacie could see too. Her fiancée pressed play and sighed. Beca could be heard in the background giving a lot of very specific direction to the two women practically fucking on a pool table in a disgusting looking rathole of a bar. Aubrey was pretty sure the women were hookers and the corner of her mouth quirked in amusement. Stacie took the phone out of her hand turned it to face back to the detective.

“Really Beca?”

“I thought it was pretty good for my directorial debut. But your gutter brain is making you miss the real show.”

Aubrey took the phone back and focused on the whole scene. Behind the women in a shadowed booth two men were clearly having an animated discussion. One was further into the shadow than the other but his gestures were strong and decisive. She watched as the other, younger seeming, man’s gestures became conciliatory and submissive the longer the conversation went on. In the foreground a flurry of noise and activity caused the camera to shake and wildly as if it were being swung around. There were glimpses of rough faces and snatches of shouts and curses. At one point there was a good stretch of scuffed flooring where she assumed Beca had been crawling away from the obvious brawl happening around her.

The camera came up again in time to catch the men leaving their booth in a hurry. Each of them caught in the neon blue glow from beer signs on the walls. Stacie snatched the phone out of her hand and hit pause. Long legs dropped down to the floor from the sofa and she stood in shock.

“Bree…this is Senator Grant. The guy he’s with is his son Kodie, we went to high school...Jesus Christ…”

“You know him?”

“Weston stole his money.”

They looked at each other then turned twin green-eyed gazes on Detective Mitchell. The small woman’s brow was furrowed in thought, her lower lip caught between her teeth as she worried it.

“The kid is on the videos.”

Mitchell didn’t have to say which videos, they all knew. Even Doc Beale. Stacie looked away from them, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she had been in some of those videos. Aubrey let out a long settling breath and stood. She gently took the phone from Stacie’s shaking hand and brought it to lips to brush a soft kiss over Stacie’s wrist. It gave her a wan smile but it was something. Stacie would be okay. Aubrey looked down at the phone and watched the video again. And again. And once more. She studied every gesture, every twitch of posture, every unconscious expression she could make out.

“I want the kid. He’s the weak link.”

Beca grunted and limped around the desk to grab her keys and helmet, ready to go back to work with a hole in her ass nearly as big as the one in her pants. It wasn’t going to happen that way and Aubrey reached out to snag both items from the sidebar and hand them to Stacie who easily placed them on a shelf far too high for Detective Mitchell to reach without finding a stand on.

“White she devil.”

“Sorry, Bec. Can’t have you half-assing anything.”

She didn’t like it and Aubrey could tell but Beca sighed and grunted. “Solid burn.”

Aubrey gave her a quick grin then turned to eye the Doctor who was watching them all curiously. Her gaze met Aubrey’s and a brow went up. Honestly, she almost felt a little bad about needing to have the Doc take Beca somewhere safe. She didn’t ask, she didn’t need to. Chloe knew what she was thinking and started to shake her head no until Beca tried to drag a chair over to the get her stuff.

“I really hate you, Aubrey Posen.”

“No, you don’t, Doc.”

“You WILL be making a very large donation to St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital.”

“Absolutely.”

“And vacation for my office girls. Two weeks!”

“I’ll buy the plane tickets myself.”

“And if she pisses me off just once I will trank her and leave her on a park bench.”

The last was a bluff but Aubrey treated the threat seriously. “Understood. Anything else?”

“….I’ll think of something!” Aubrey bit back another grin and nodded seriously. She slipped her hands into her pockets as the doctor steeled herself mentally to take on Beca. “Come one Detective, as much as this pains me to say…you’re coming home with me.”

Beca dropped the helmet she had finally just retrieved on the ground and left it like discarded trash to limp over to Chloe. “Okay.”

“God…you’re so easy.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Doc.”

Chloe gave her a final glare and slung the detective’s arms over her shoulder to help her limp out of the office. Stacie settled the length of her body along Aubrey’s back, hands coming up to finger the buttons of her vest.

“How well do you know this Kodie, joker?”

Stacie hmmm thoughtfully. “Not as well as I did in high school. Edith told me he got caught up in some trouble recently. I think I know how we can get to him though.”

“How?”

“He likes cocaine and paying for his um let’s call them dates. I had Happy make some calls for you.”

The smile came to her face easily and she leaned into Stacie’s embrace. This wasn’t anything like what her mom and dad had. Her mother had never been this involved in what her father did for work. She had kept as distant from it as she could, turning her nose up at the family that protected them, running from the darkness of the business. Stacie would never do that to her. She knew it all way down to the bottom of soul. Aubrey turned in her arms and brought their heads together.

“You got more cards up your sleeve than a Vegas croupier, you know that?”

“Hmm. I learned from the best.”

Aubrey closed the distance, her brushing softly over Stacie’s. There were a lot of words she could say about how she felt about the woman in her arms. She could probably write pages on it, but words didn’t matter half as much as action did. She was going to marry this woman and spend her life giving her the best of everything. They were going to be happy and she didn’t care who she had to kill to make it happen.

“Let me take you home?”

“Aubrey…in your arms? I’m already there.”

[cowboy-eddie]

May’s Tattoo

When May decides she wants to get a tattoo, and Athena isn’t exactly with the idea, she turns to two of the most tattooed people she knows; Buck and Eddie.

You can also read this on my AO3! hit up CallMeG :)

“Mom, I want to get a tattoo.”

Athena paused for a second, before turning to her daughter.

“What brought that on?”

“I want to express myself. I want to have something that defines me right now, even if it won’t later because it’s relevant now and it’s something I want to do while I’m young.”

Athena hummed, patting Bobby on the shoulder for backup and he cleared his throat.

“I’m sure Buck or Eddie would have a couple of recommendations.”

“Bobby, Buck and Eddie both got their tattoos elsewhere in the country.”

“Not true; Buck has one on his ribs he got in LA and Eddie got one before he came back to work on his arm.”

May crossed her arms.

“Is Eddie gonna give me that dad speech he has warmed up at all times?”

“Probably.”

Athena glared at Bobby, jabbing her elbow into his ribs to get him to shut up. Of all the people, she thought he’d be the one against it.

“Fine. I’ll ask Buck.”

May reached into her pocket and tapped away on her phone. A second later she had an answer and picked up her keys.

“I’m going to see Buck; I’ll be back later.”

“Okay honey, drive safe,” Athena called after her. She turned to Bobby, hands on her hips, and Bobby’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“I was asking for help to convince her not to, Bobby.”

“She had a really good argument! Besides, I’m her stepfather. At least with Buck and Eddie she has good support.”

may’s tattoo

Buck opened the door and smiled at May, giving her a quick hug before inviting her inside.

“Eddie is here too; he’s in the living room.”

“Is Christopher here?” May asked, poking her head in and Buck shook his head.

“Abuela and Pepa practically begged to take him off Eddie’s hands for the night.”

“So just two bros, chilling on a couch, five feet apart...”

“Don’t say it,” Buck huffed and May laughed as she tossed her purse and mask on to the counter before taking off her shoes and leaving them on the shoe rack.

“Hey, Buck, can you grab me a beer?” Eddie called from the living area and Buck grabbed it from the fridge, popping the top off before leading May over to the couch.

“Eds, May is here. She wants to ask us something.”

“What’s up?”

Eddie sat up, feet on the floor instead of the couch and suddenly May got the idea they’d been snuggling before she knocked.

“Am I interrupting date night?”

“No!”

“What are those anymore?”

May glanced between Eddie and her pseudo-brother, before she laughed.

“I definitely did. Uh, I wanted to ask you guys about your tattoos. I was thinking of getting one, and Bobby directed me to you two.”

“That’s so not a good idea,” Eddie snorted into his beer and Buck shoved his elbow into his boyfriend’s ribs before turning back to May.

“What are we talking? First experiences? I got my first one when I was eighteen, and I probably wouldn’t recommend getting one in a dodgy parlour out the back of a gas station.”

“Is that even legal?” May asked and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Probably not. Uh, my first one... I got it right before I went to Afghanistan. It meant a lot to me.”

“Find a way. Hm.”

“My parents aren’t like yours, May. They wanted to coddle me for all the wrong reasons, and I had to get out of there. Christopher was more their son than I was.”

Buck squeezed Eddie’s shoulder, shrugging.

“Mine are all just a reminder of my life experiences and everything I’ve done.”

Next thing May knew, Buck had pulled up his shirt to show off his most recent ones.

“The uh- the human head, and the brain- it kinda symbolises how brilliant the human mind is when we remember to use it, and sometimes I need the reminder to use it.”

May burst out laughing and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“That’s an understatement. The one on my other arm... not the quote...”

“The map and compass?” May asked and he nodded, pulling up the hoodie May only just realised was Buck’s to show his forearm. It was clearly scarred, from shit she had no reason to ask about, but the detail in the image was beautiful.

“Oh my god- Eddie, it’s... it’s gorgeous. That would have taken ages!”

“Thanks, and it did. Something about guiding me in the right direction. North always leads to home.”

“I thought North always led to water?” Buck asked, brows furrowed. May shushed him, suddenly interested in the designs on Eddie’s arm.

“Did it hurt?”

“Nah-“

“-he has no sense of pain, May, don’t listen to him,” Buck said and Eddie glared.

“Neither do you, asshole.”

“Okay, if you want to get into this-“

“-guys! Can you at least wait until I’m out the door before you start making out?”

Buck pulled Eddie’s hoodie sleeves down and Eddie swatted at the back of his head.

“Do you know what you want?” Buck asked and May shrugged.

“I’m not sure yet, but I have some ideas.”

may’s tattoo

A few weeks later, Bobby appeared in the doorway to his office and called for Buck and Eddie. They headed into the office and Bobby closed the door, hands on his hips.

“So you convinced May getting a tattoo was a good idea.”

“Uh, no, we didn’t,” Eddie said, eyebrows furrowed but Buck shrugged.

“We didn’t exactly discourage it.”

“Buck!” Eddie huffed, shoving an elbow into his boyfriend’s ribs while Bobby just sighed.

“You two had one job. One.”

“I thought it was saving people,” Buck deadpanned. This time Bobby was the one who smacked him upside the head.

“Athena is not keen for May to get a tattoo!”

“Oh,” Buck and Eddie said simultaneously. Bobby nodded.

“Oh indeed. So, here’s what’s going to happen. I don’t want you to scare her out of it, but I do want you guys to be honest the next time she asks questions- maybe don’t tell her about the weed, Buck?”

Buck promptly shut his mouth and winced. He didn’t think Bobby knew about that part of Buck 0.5.

“You got it Cap,” Eddie agreed, hooking a finger through the belt loop at the back of Buck’s pants.

may’s tattoo

“May, come through. Do you have someone with you- Buck! Are you here with this young lady?”

“Yeah, May is my captain’s stepdaughter. Eddie might swing by later though.”

Following the tattoo artist through to a private room, the tattoo artist flicked the curtain closed and shook Buck’s hand.

“Good to see you man. Okay May, what are we doing today?”

“I want a line of power poles.”

“Wow, nice choice. Okay, sit down and let’s do a little prep work before I start drawing.”

May took a seat on the chair while Buck stood toward the back of the room, watching May’s eyes dart around the room.

“Hey. It’s okay if you’re not ready,” he said gently, “we can rebook for later.”

“No! I’m doing this.”

The tattoo artist took a seat on one of the stools, reaching for a sketchpad and transfer paper.

“So, power poles. Where are you thinking of putting them?”

“On my side.”

May lifted her tank top to expose her ribs, gesturing to the area. The tattoo artist frowned.

“That is one of the more painful places to get your first tattoo. I’m happy to do it, I just wanted you to be aware it’s not going to be comfortable.”

“He’s right,” Buck said. May smacked him on the arm.

“I’m doing this. Shut up.”

Buck promptly shut his mouth and the tattoo artist did some sketching on his paper before reaching for a marker.

“I’m going to mark it out on your skin with this, and then you can tell me what you think. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

may’s tattoo

“Hey, my boyfriend and his stepsister are here. May and Evan?”

“Oh, yeah, come through. Do they know you’re coming?”

“Yeah, he just asked me to bring coffee for him and something for May to sip on.”

The receptionist at the tattoo store led Eddie through the back rooms before knocking on a door.

“Hey, Kevin, Evan’s boyfriend is here. Can he come in?”

There was confirmation from the other side and the receptionist gestured for Eddie to go inside.

“Knock yourself out, I guess.”

Eddie opened the door and Buck glanced up at him with a smile.

“Hi sweetheart- oh thank god.”

“Caramel frappe, with a drizzle of chocolate sauce in the frappe as well as one on top. That was one of your tamer coffee orders, baby.”

“You’re a saint. Kevin, you remember Eddie?”

“Hey man, how’s that tattoo going?”

Kevin was working along May’s ribs. May had a death grip on Buck’s hand and she kept trying to focus on her phone but Eddie could see she was in pain. Clearing his throat, he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Need another hand to break?”

“Shut up.”

Eddie put the coffee tray on the table, Buck giving him a kiss. Eddie settled on Buck’s knee, giving May’s wrist a squeeze.

“You doing okay?”

“It doesn’t sting or anything, it’s just… uncomfortable.”

“That’s good. We booked Kevin because he knows exactly how to do this without hurting you too badly.”

Buck took a sip of his frappe, sighing in relief.

“Now that is good.”

“When can we get you back in the chair, Eddie? Any plans?” Kevin asked, focus on the lines he was tracing.

“Uh, maybe. I have some ideas. My son just turned ten, so I was thinking about something for him but I’m not sure yet.”

may’s tattoo

Helping May off the chair, Buck pulled the mirror around and she beamed at the brand new tattoo on her side, about to be wrapped. Eddie smiled as May turned to hug Buck before she paused.

“Okay. No hugs for a little while. Wrap me, Kevin.”

Kevin wrapped the tattoo and put a non-stick dressing on top, finishing up. He passed May the gel for aftercare, smiling at Buck and Eddie.

“I’m sure these two can tell you how to use this stuff.”

“It’s pretty straightforward, right?” May said.

“Relatively,” Buck agreed. Leaning into Buck’s side, Eddie pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Bobby’s gonna kill us.”

“We can avoid him. Surely.”

“How long have you known Bobby, again?”

may’s tattoo

First thing Monday morning, Bobby leaned over the balcony and yelled for Buck and Eddie as they came in. Exchanging glances, they put their duffel bags in their locker and headed upstairs. Bobby was sitting at the dining table, hands together.

“So, May came home Saturday afternoon with a brand new tattoo. You two wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?”

“Uh-“

“-we did our research beforehand. Eddie and I both went to the same tattoo artist last time and I’ve worked with him before. I had a chat with him before May went in and we were both there the whole time.”

Bobby was quiet for a moment as he took in Buck’s confession. Shrugging, he got up.

“Sounds like May’s old enough to make her own decisions. Athena wants her safe, and I trust you two to make sure she is. Thank you for helping her make her own decisions.”

[samikozume-todoroki]

Warning: straight crack

Masterlist | Request rules | Gen. Taglist

Wildchild memelord reader meeting the guys for the first time and love at first sight:

Bakugou Katsuki:

You bump into him

“WATCH WHERE YOURE GOING EXTRA!!!!”

Boom boom, fingy explosions, boom boom

Gets in yo face

Not in the sexy way tho😔✊

You back up slightly

“I have a thick skin but dude you are scary scary”

Does that cute confused thing^

Like no one has said that straight to his face, and not with such nonchalance either

He respects it

But he’s still confused

“W-what??”

“Also sir please get outta my bubble, I mean I don’t mind a hot guy getting all up in my space but like consent is sexc ya feel?”

You’re an idiot.

Katsuki likes idiots (bakusqaud cough)

“And that’s how your father met me kids😌💅✨”

“Y/n I’m older than you”

“Kiri shut up, don’t ruin the story of mom and dad meeting🥺”

Todoroki Shouto:

You come up to him after the sports festival

“Ay yo! That’s the ice zuko!”

Ice zuko??? What’s a zuko???

You grab his hands in that whole “I’m praying with/for you” position

“I believe in your redemption arc!! You got this Ice zuko!!”

“My name is shouto todoroki??? What’s a zuko???”

He ends up in some random strangers, yours, house binging Avatar the next few days.

and that’s the story of how you met your future hubby

and how y’all went to comic-con in Zuko and Mai cosplay

and how your three kids were named

“Alright Zuko, Aang, and Iroh let’s go to bed”

“I can’t believe you named your kids that”

“Shut up Midoriya, when you meet the love of your life through a show then you can talk”

Kirishima Eijirou:

You bumped into him at the mall

And fell into the fountain

He helped you out apologizing

“Ya know, I don’t think this is how you get a girl wet sir”

“Agsjsghsjs w-w-whAt”

*voice crack bAybEE*

“Ya I mean usually you take her out to dinner or y’all watch a movie then you lure her to the bed-“

“mAAAM PLEA-“

“I mean that’s how it goes in all the wattpad lemons hm. Not gonna lie tho, the view of you-“

Licks lips

“Is all I need”

Kirishima_Eijirou.exe stopped working

Wait or Restart?

“Yes he will gladly take your number”

Bless Kaminari, after hyena cackling his ass off, he stepped in

A true bro😔✊

“And that is how I seduced your future son-in-law!”

“Y/n we talked about this- get better pickup lines cmon your game is weak”

“And Kirishima honey, I’m disappointed in your pick up line tolerance”

Midoriya Izuku:

You fell from the sky

Well not really you just crashed through the ceiling

Landing on top of deku your dazed face looks into his eyes

“Damn I must’ve crashed into hell because you’re fucking hot”

Izuku is blushing yes but he’s also out of it cause he knocked his head

“Then baby there’s no way you’re an angel cause you’re dripping sin”

I made that up on the spot and I am proud, wow my own talent astonishes me🤩

“I may be an angel, but I will gladly sin for you”

You both are two inches away from a heated makeout session but-

Cough cough

“Dudes the whole class is still here”

Izuku finally snaps out of it and promptly faints in shock

Meanwhile you’re mad cause

NO HEAD?! *throws phone, jumps and snaps a skateboard*

Doodling you number on Izukus forehead you skip out of the classroom and back upstairs

“And that’s how we met Miss Midoriya!”

“Izuku you’re all grown up”😭

“Mom whAT-“

Kaminari Denki:

This motherfucker also has wild child memelord energy

And wild children meme lords attract

Like put some meme lords in a mile radius of the other and they will sniff each other out eventually

So your first day of UA you run into the class in the middle of English

Point straight at Denki, him out of his seat pointing straight at you

“BRO!””PIKABRO!”

“Shawty let me suckle on them toes”😫

“Only if you allow me to break your ankles and put you in a skirt cause you remind me of my mom”😫

“BRO! FEEL free! Please lure me into your basement!!”😫😫

“I ain’t paid enough for this bullshit” present mic leaves the classroom💀

“And that’s how the mafia works”🤩✨

“Dad you literally told us how y’all met where did mafia come from?”

“Denki we raised a wack ass kid wtf”

“Ikr like who put the stick up his ass”

“Parentals I’m literally right here how are you guys adults I cannot-“

Shinsou Hitoshi:

So like everyone knows he loves cats right???

All of UA knows too

“Hola cat boy! Can you do me a favor???”

You walk up to him in a cat costume

Not one of the skimpy ones

Sadly

Like a full on cat in the hat onesie type deal

“I didn’t know cat in the hat went to UA?”

“I heard ya like cats, and I need you, so I am a cat

I am now irresistible you have to do as I say”

“You would have had better luck if you wore a skimpy cat costume but I’ll hear you out. What do ya want?”

“Okay right so this dickwad decided “yo let’s take panty shots of random girls”

and I’m one of them

and like he took the picture with one of my comfty panties

so the picture isn’t even cute

and I want it back but he won’t give it to me

so like can you do your whole Jedi mind trick and get me the photo back???”

“Lmao,,, what???”

“Wat???”

“So you get sexually harassed and you’re more upset by the fact that you weren’t wearing cute panties???”

“When you put it like that it sounds bad”

“That’s because it is bad”

“Oh yeah now that you put it like that it is bad. Can you fuck up his shit too???”

Mans beats the fucker up black and blue, shreds all the photos, destroys the camera, memory stick thingy, deletes all gmail account data then the account, destroys laptop, computer, hard drives, phones, 3DS, etc. etc. thoroughly

“Wow when you smashed his 3DS in his balls that was very hot”

Make out session over a half dead body: check 💯✅

“And that was how I prevented a man from having kids”🥰

“God you’re so hot, I could fu-“

“Y/n. We are literally in public with all of our friends. Stop being horny”

“I can’t help it you’re so hot yummy yummy man🤩”

A/n: LMAO I’m rereading this after waking up. I wrote this ten minutes before I went to sleep and it shows cause my god this is a hot mess💀

Tagged: @mssyprsn

[potassium-pilot]

Prompt 12: Family

A big, blank spot on the wall of the Borel manor parlor wouldn’t normally bother her on another day, but Dia, still recovering from a near-fatal injury she sustained in the last treasure hunt she went on, suffered from intense boredom. Her day seemed wasted to her by sitting around, doing nothing. The books that surrounded her helped, as well as the free company linkshell, but her fellow adventurers were busy adventuring, and one could only bury herself in fiction for so long after spending years firmly planted in reality. Thus did the wall become painfully obvious.

To her, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say it seemed wildly out of place. Many works of art neighbored this new thorn in her side, yet there did that spot sit empty, lifeless, only showing the wallpaper. Why wasn’t there another work of art? Why couldn’t there have been one? Was he so busy that he forgot to hang something new there? Was she so busy that she never thought to ask?

No, that space simply wouldn’t do.

She cautiously stood up from the settee, taking great care not to reopen her abdominal wound, and found a different perspective. It helped little to ease the discomfort the blank wall was causing. There had to be something to place there. She would sneak off to the Jeweled Crozier and shop around herself if the act of even standing wasn’t so painful. Now that the quandary had revealed itself, she pondered what would hurt more to withstand.

“Oh, Mistress Sito, my lord will be rather upset that you’re not resting your wounds”, cautioned the steward, Angelbert, from the doorway to the parlor.

“The man fought off a terrorist cell hours after being stabbed; he can deal with me standing here staring at a wall”, she snarked. The steward frowned at the remark. “May I ask why you choose to stare at a wall, mistress?”

“Angelbert, do you know why there’s a blank spot here?” The old man stepped towards the spot she stood in, and examined the wall. “Running a house near singlehandedly has made it a bit hard to pay attention to wall decorations, I’m afraid, but I’m sure my lord has his reasons.”

She hummed in consideration. “Well, what might he think of filling it with something else, I wonder?”

“Such as?”

“Well, look at the rest of it- there’s art abound. Why not fill that spot with another work?”

Angelbert took a moment to think. “Well, the basement does hold several paintings that remain unhanged.” Dia brought her attention to the steward. “Really?”

“Plenty of them. That in mind, he has precious little time to spend thinking about house decorations.”

“Angelbert, I have nothing but time, at the moment. Why don’t we look through them and see what we can find, then when Aymeric gets home, we can ask what he thinks?” His white eyebrows lifted at the suggestion. “Hm, an interesting proposition. I suppose if my lord’s opinion is weighed as equally as yours, it could be a splendid idea.”

She grinned, and stated, “Well, we can’t stand around here, then. Let’s take a look!”

“Er, Mistress Sito, with all due respect, I would rather not aggravate your wounds further. Why do I not simply bring up the collection myself?”

“Angelbert-“ she was about to dispute it before she took a step ahead of her, and felt as if her core was tearing itself apart. She clutched her wound and strained to get out, “That’s a really good idea, you should do that.”

“Please drink your health potion, mistress! Shall I call the chirurgeon?”

She took her place back on the settee, held up a hand, and answered, “I’m a healer, Angelbert. I’ll take care of it. Just please, grab the paintings.” He bowed and left to find them while Dia examined her wounds and applied pain relief for herself, then drank the health potion as was recommended by the chirurgeon she was brought to, as well as Aymeric, her free company friends with whom she sought the treasure, the Scions, and now Angelbert.

A few minutes passed, and the elder steward returned with artwork in hand. “I found the collection, Mistress Sito.”

“Perfect. Here, sit down and we’ll look through it together.” The steward smiled and sat down with the portraits, ready to examine them together with her.

“This one’s just fruit”, she remarked at an unimaginative bowl of fruit topped with grapes, apples, and a banana, “Doesn’t go with anything up there, don’t you think?”

“I tend to agree.” The steward set the portrait to his side of the settee. “What of this one?”

“Oh, that’s a pretty landscape. I wonder where that is.”

“I’d recognize it anywhere: that’s Providence Point before the Calamity.”

“Aww…” she cooed, “Let’s add that to the ‘maybe’ pile.” Angelbert handed the portrait to Dia, who set it to her right side. “Uh…it’s just a splotch of blue…” she described confusedly of the next option.

“I believe it’s an abstract piece, up for interpretation.”

“I’m interpreting that it’s not a good fit up there.” The painting was placed in Angelbert’s ‘no’ pile on his side of the settee. The next portrait made Dia gasp in excitement. “Is that—“

A realistic portrait portrayed an elderly couple with a young boy between them wearing a green coat, green matching pants, and black dress shoes-typical of Ishgardian fashion- and sporting wavy black hair with similar bangs on his forehead, all parties with a neutral expression on their face. “There’s my lord as a lad with his parents. I remember when this portrait was taken, too. He couldn’t sit still, heehee.” Angelbert fondly reminisced of the time when this would have been painted.

“He’s adorable here! Look at him”, Dia marveled at the painting, “What’s this doing here with the rest of this collection?” Before Angelbert could theorize, he heard the sound of a key attempting to unlock the front door. “Ah, there’s Lord Aymeric now! Give me just a moment.” He stood up and quickly darted towards the front door, ready to greet him as was custom.

She kept searching through the rest of the collection, running into a flower vase, an abstract dining room, and an elezen woman holding a cat before she noticed the sound of his footsteps moving towards the parlor. “Ah, there you are!” she greeted cheerfully and attempted to stand up to meet him.

“Don’t you dare get up”, Aymeric ordered calmly, moving quickly towards the settee. She slumped back into her seated position and said, “Fine, then I shall simply sit here and waste away.” He kissed the top of her head from behind her. “‘Tis good to know you’re not being dramatic.”

She feigned a gasp. “Dramatic? Me? I’ve never been so insulted in my life…minus all those times I’ve been horribly insulted”, she teased. Aymeric laughed at her silliness.

“Now, if you have not been waited on hand and foot, I shall have a word.”

“Oh, don’t blame Angelbert. You’ll need more staff for that level of service.” Dia remembered the first time she visited Aymeric for dinner. The steward mentioned that House Borel employed the fewest staff members of any house of Ishgard, the amount being countable on one hand.

Aymeric pondered the suggestion. “You have a point.”

Dia’s eyes widened. “Well, hold on, I don’t actually want to be waited on hand and foot.”

“Neither do I, but Angelbert could certainly use the help. He’s not as young as he used to be.”

“He was young?” Dia joked. Aymeric gave a cautious laugh.

“Careful, Mistress. You’ll find yourself in a similar position one day”, Angelbert remarked as he carried tea and a new health potion. He placed the teacup and potion bottle on the table before Dia continued to joke, “I’m sorry, I refuse to believe you didn’t simply appear in the world anything less than fifty summers old.”

“Well, at least you’re generous with the age, Mistress Sito. Now, have you told Lord Aymeric what you had done before he came home?” he asked before promptly turning away to return to business.

“What did you do?” Aymeric asked Dia concernedly, “And does it have anything to do with all these portraits lying about?”

“Nothing bad, don’t worry. And yes, it does. I came up with an idea.” She pointed to the blank spot that kicked off the process. “That spot has been an immense bother to me since I first noticed it this morning. To that end did I bid Angelbert to help me fill it. He told me you had a bunch of unhanged portraits in the basement, and I asked him to bring them up here and we were trying to decide what to go with. I wanted to see which you would like.” She grabbed the family portrait and held it up so he could see it.

“Now I’m a big fan of this one. I’m not sure why it’s not up there now, but I’m sure there’s a reason, and if you don’t want it up there, you don’t need to put it up there…but you look adorable here, my love! At least consider it.” She set it back to it’s original spot and grabbed the landscape and explained, “This one was in the ‘maybe’ pile. It’s pretty, but it might also bring back some unwanted emotions about pre-Calamity times, so I understand if you don’t.” She set the landscape aside and grabbed the flower vase. “Now at first, I saw the flower vase and thought it was kind of boring, but now that I look at it again, it’s growing on me.”

Aymeric blinked and asked, “You were rather bored, weren’t you, dear?”

“Insanely so. Point is, I think we should fill that blank piece of wall with something, and there are some options here to do so. I know that you’re a bit too busy to think about stuff like decorations regularly, but your opinion matters to me, and I want to know what you think.”

“I would prefer we didn’t fill it at all…at least, not yet.” Dia raised an eyebrow in confusion to that statement. “What? Why?” Aymeric walked towards the empty wall space and stared at it.

“That family photo you adore so much was the original portrait that filled this gap.” Aymeric let out a sharp breath through his nose. “I took it down after the new government was formed.”

Dia carefully stood up, and slowly stepped towards him. “But why?” she whispered.

He hesitated to answer, but finally explained after a moment, “‘Tis silly, but…it transformed itself into a reminder. It reminded me that I was once an object of gossip and scorn, that generally, I was rather disliked by many of the other houses due to those origins of mine. In a way, it mocked me. I couldn’t be burdened with those memories as someone who needs to lead such people into a new age. Yet, that portrait served as something that would yank me back into the old and antiquated, into a position that I care not to relive. As such, it served no purpose sitting there, and so, I had it taken down.”

Dia frowned. She didn’t want to bring back bad memories with that. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for, my dear. I never told you this, and simply hoped you wouldn’t notice. It worked for a while.”

“It did. Well, if that’s the case, why do you not want to fill the spot?”

Aymeric brought his gaze to her and responded with a raised corner of his lip, “In truth, I would like a new family portrait to hang here…one of you and I.”

Dia’s mouth went agape and after taking a moment to process what he told her, she let out a breathed laugh of delight and confusion. “Isn’t that more for married couples, people with their own children?”

“Is there anything traditional about the two of us, about what we’re doing here? I’m a bastard leading a country that detests bastards so, unofficially courting an outsider as she unofficially lives in my family manor. But a few years ago, such thoughts would be unthinkable. Yet here we are, living these thoughts as truth, and rather happily, if I may say so.”

Aymeric stepped towards her and gently gripped her hands. “You are my family, whether that is seen in the eyes of Halone and Ishgard or not, and if you would entertain the idea, I would like to commemorate that soon. You need but say the word, and I shall find the time and artist.”

Dia didn’t know quite what to say. There was no other thought in her head, no conflicting emotions to tell her it was a lie, not when he looked to her with such sincerity. Strangely lucid, yet hazy, lost when she was so clearly found, the only thing she felt was adoration. Her ardor for the man seemed boundless, ever growing, and in this moment, it swelled gloriously.

Not that she was ever capable of vocalizing such emotions.

She kissed his cheek, then brought her forehead to his and asked softly and half-jokingly, “Do I get to choose the outfits?”

“You will have full control over anything you’d like, my love.” She liked the sound of that, so much so, that she met her lips with his, and they enjoyed their warm embrace for all it was worth. Like coming in from a cold winter’s night, their company was the hearth they sat near for warmth. The fire easily burned brighter. This was the most stimulating activity Dia’s experienced since she sustained her injury, and Halone knew Aymeric dealt with the House of Lords far too much to not feel the least bit greedy at her touch. He pulled in her closer, and she happily obliged.

Her wounds did not, however.

She yelped in pain and backed away.

“Are you all right?!”

“Give me a moment, I’ll be fine!” she strained through gritted teeth. Dia started preparing healing spells for herself while he quickly darted for the coffee table to grab the health potion Angelbert prepared and returned to her side with it. Slowly, the tension she exuded began to melt as the pain was being relieved gradually. She passed the worst of it, and gulped down the potion as required.

Godsdammit, she thought.

“I’ll just sit down then”, she announced meekly.

“A good idea”, he affirmed as he took her shoulders to stabilize her and make sure it wouldn’t reopen as she walked.

“Was this how you felt after our experience with the True Brothers of the Faith?” he asked her as he helped seat her.

“Ha! Not even close. You’ll need to feel completely baffled that someone could just stand up and fight off four people hours after being stabbed on top of abject fear for my life.”

Aymeric shook his head. “Well, I, for my part, will attempt to avoid doing anything so reckless again. I realize that danger tends to follow you regardless of what you do, but it still hurts to see you so.”

Dia folded her arms and sarcastically responded, “Hm, and I’m just so thrilled about it.”

“Must you be sarcastic about this?”

“Sorry, it’s the pain talking.”

He stayed silent. She nudged herself closer to him and rested her head on his pauldron. “You sure that this is what you want as your family? A snarky witch who teases you constantly?”

He removed his pauldrons and pulled her in with one arm so she could rest on him easily.

“Without a doubt in my mind.”

[lilacsandwhiskey]

*all pictures owned by original owners*

Chapter 4 - New Friendships

pairing: Drake Walker x Riley Brooks

A/N: Hi friends! Sorry I’ve been MIA, life was super busy and then I went on a much needed vacay but I’m BACK!

Warnings: Mention of death

Tag list:

@marshmallowsaremyfavorite @lovingchoices14 @gkittylove99 @darley1101 @kingliam2019 @tinkie1973 @whiskeyslullabye

*Drake’s POV*

ch 4

*Drake’s POV*

“So you mean to tell me, you’ve never watched Friends?” Riley had her mouth open in a smile, looking offended. “Never. I didn’t watch a lot of television growing up!” “Ugh, the poor life of Drake.” She shook her head, taking another bite of her food.

Riley had invited me into her apartment and as worried as I was about it being awkward, she made conversation so easy. “Alright, let’s get to the deep stuff.” She said. “Tell me why New York.” Unsure how to exactly go about why, I thought for a moment.

“Well, let’s see. I think I was just ready for change. I’m twenty-six. I’ve lived my entirety under the roof of someone else’s home, coming and going as I please. Though Cordonia will always be home, I just needed to get away for a while. I may go back one day, I may not. New York was the place I felt most comfortable with, we’d visited a few times. How about you? Are you from New York?” There was no need to go into depth about the fact that I actually lived in the palace with Liam, but Liam was making steps in his life, he was married, he was king, and it was time for me to take a hold of my own reigns. As much as Liam reassured me to stay, I knew it was time to go.

“I’m actually from North Carolina.” Riley said. “I moved here for college. It was the whole small town girl gets out of town situation. Life was messy, and I decided here. My mom had family here, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t call someone for help if I were in trouble, but I was far enough away to gain independence.” I nodded as she sat back in her chair and played with the place mat on her table. “So you went to college?” “I dropped out, actually.” “Hey, I did too.”

Riley looked at me, questioning. “Did you go to school in the US?” “Yeah, actually. Only for two years.” “I dropped out after two years. Why’d you drop out?” Riley asked. I room a deep breath, recognizing the truth wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense. Maybe too heavy of a conversation for now. Like, hey, yeah, there were some assassination attempts going on and Liam was severely depressed so his brother begged me to come back and I did, just like I always do. “Just realized college wasn’t for me.” I shrugged.

“Understandable.” Riley replied. “How about you?” “Uh, well, my mom passed away. I just couldn’t focus anymore. I got really depressed, stopped going to classes, and made the decision that I probably shouldn’t pay money for an education I wasn’t receiving. So I dropped out.” I studied Riley, noticing tears brimming her eyelids. “Want anything to drink? I’ve got whiskey, wine, water, soda, anything?”

I cleared my throat, recognizing that the conversation did get heavy. “Uh, whiskey, huh?” I asked. “My choice of drink,

actually.” She said with a grin. The tears were no longer in his bright green eyes. “I’ll take whiskey.”

Riley grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet to pour. She turned around to sit down, handing me a glass. “Hey, I know what it’s like.” I finally said. “Hm?” “To lose a parent. I know what that’s like. I’m sorry you had to go through it.” “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to, too.” She gave me an empathetic smile. “To new friendships?” Riley held her glass out. “To new friendships.” I smiled, clinking my glass against hers.

Listening to Riley talk was... comfortable. Watching her eyes widen, talking about things she loved, seeing her shake her head at my inexperience of television shows and movies. She laughed a lot, but her laugh was contagious. “You’re not the brooding man I remember.” She had said. I guess the brooding man was actually enjoying the company.

When Riley asked me to talk, it was hard not to just tell her everything. She laced her fingers around her glass, looked at me, studied me, commented, and just listened. Her hair was pulled back in a loose bun, she was still in her work clothes, but it made me remember her that night.

Thinking of that night sent pings of jealousy through me. I wasn’t angry at anyone but myself. I thought back to how Maxwell said that Riley didn’t want any part of royalty, and how insane it would be for her to go to a whole new country she’d never even heard of and try her hand at running it. I wondered if things would have been different if I had made the move. Would it have been a one night stand? Would it have created a friendship, though that wasn’t the in the rules of one night stands? There was so much left undone and said because I was too much of a coward to say, “hey Liam, can I call dibs?” I felt like a schoolboy even having these thoughts.

As the conversations continued, I caught a glance at the clock on the stove. It was already ten. How did the time go by so fast? “Well, I should probably be heading to bed. Got a long day of job searching in front of me tomorrow.” I said. “Me too, work calls for another day tomorrow.” We both stood up. I grabbed her plate and her glass. “Hey, I can get my stuff. You’re the guest.” “You were kind enough to invite me, I insist.” I walked over to the sink to wash the glasses, but she promptly told me to sit them down in the sink. “Fine, fine. But next time...” I said with a laugh. “So there will be a next time!” Riley joked.

As she walked me to the door, she stopped me. “Wait, give me your phone.” “Hm?” I looked down at her, confused. “I figured my number could be helpful if you need any tips around town or if you want someone to eat dinner with again.” She said with a giggle. “Oh, right.” I handed her my phone as she typed away. “There you go.” “Thank you, Riley. For keeping me company and good conversation.” “I can only thank you too. It was nice to talk to someone instead of stare at the walls while I chew.”

I walked into my apartment, closing the door and immediately falling back on my couch. Oh, Riley, you’re going to be trouble. The vision of her sitting across from me wouldn’t leave my mind. My thoughts were interrupted by my phone ringing. I looked down to see my sister, Savannah, calling.

“Savannah? Isn’t it like 4:30 in the morning there?” I asked. “Yeah, but I’m up with the Bartie and I just wanted to check in and see how things were.” She said. “Hey Uncle Dwake.” “Hey bud.” I smiled at the small voice coming over the phone. “He misses you so much.” Savannah said with a small laugh. “I miss you guys.” “Are you settling in?” “I’m trying. It’s different, that’s for sure.” “You’ll get through it. If I could do it, you can. You know home is always waiting for you.” “I know, Sav. I think it’s good for me though.” “I agree, even if I do miss my big brother. But I’ll let you go. You call me sometime, okay?” “I will. Love you.” “Love you. Talk to you soon.”

I hung up the phone, but immediately searched through my contacts. I typed in R, instantly seeing “Riley Brooks” pop up. So, Brooks is her last name. Do I text her and tell her thank you? Or tell her who’s number this is? Gosh, Drake, you’re like a infatuated ninth grader.

Drake: Hey Riley, this is Drake. Just wanted to thank you again for having me over

I instantly saw three bubbles pop up.

Riley: anytime :) what’s your last name, by the way?

Drake: Now that’s giving away too much information now lol

Riley: that’s where you cross the line? oh how unfortunate!

Drake: I guess I’ll cross it one more time for you. Its Walker.

Riley: goodnight, Drake Walker

Drake: Goodnight, Brooks

I laid my phone face down on the couch next to me, and turned on the television. Back home, we never watched much unless it was sports. I clicked on my new Netflix account and scrolled through the television shows. That’s when I came across what Riley said was her favorite show, Friends. I hovered over it, smirking at Riley’s reaction to me having never watched it.

I clicked on the first episode.

[withyoutilltheendofthismess]

The effects of sleep deprivation

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: not that I am aware of

Summary: Coming home late from a case with nothing to eat only leaves one option. 

A/N: Never would I have imagined the response from my first ever published fic. Thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged or commented! Send an ask if you wanna be tagged in upcoming ones. Have fun with this one.

You never knew it was actually possible to run out of groceries. Wasn't it natural to go shopping for food every week but never actually use everything you've bought to the extent that nothing was left? But when Aaron and you came home after a long case at midnight and you opened the fridge you were greeted with the wonderful amount of nothing. That makes a great dinner.

“Aaron, there's nothing in the fridge!“

He didn't believe you. He had flopped down on the couch seconds after entering the house but this outrageous claim brought him up in a speed you didn't know he still had in him, not that you were going to tell him this. 

After pointlessly staring in the blinding light of the fridge for far too long he came to the exactly same conclusion.

“Huh, there really is nothing in the fridge.“ Always fun to be in a relationship with such a smart man.

Now you were sitting at the dining table, a glass of water in front of both of you because you had nothing else to drink either, obviously. Your mind was tired after working non stop for a week and you could tell your boyfriend felt the same. He had been staring at a particular dark line in the wood of the table for 10 minutes now. You needed to do something, that was for sure. Otherwise he may begin to eat the table beginning with that dark line. 

“We should go grocery shopping.“

“What?“ His mind was definitely tired.

“Grocery shopping, Aaron, to get food. That's how humans get something to eat nowadays.“

“Haha, Y/N, it's 1 am.“

“And? Is it forbidden to go out after a particular hour?“

More time came and go, he seemed to be considering your question. Were there social standards that prohibit going shopping at 1 am? If there were, would it be enough of an emergency to break them? You imagined all of that going on inside his head before he came to a conclusion. 

“Ok, let's go.“

So, it was decided. You changed out of your work clothes into a pair of comfy leggings and a big hoodie. Aaron himself switched his suit out for sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt. There was a store nearby that could easily be reached by foot and was opened for 24 hours. You slipped your hand into Aaron's while walking naturally. They fit together like they were made for each other and maybe they were. If you weren't that tired and hungry it would almost be beautiful. A couple, hand in hand, the dark night sky as infinite as their love for each other. 

Aaron went to fetch a shopping cart while you were waiting in front of the doors desperately trying to not fall asleep while standing. Another thing you didn't think was possible but you were already proven wrong once tonight. Better to not risk something.

Completely worn out, your boyfriend strolled around the corner. His lips lightly twitched upwards upon seeing you. You put one hand on the handle so he wouldn't have to push the cart alone and you entered the store. 

“Do you think we need salad?“

“Aaron, we have nothing at home.“ You sighed. Aaron didn't seem to process words at a normal speed because he still looked questionally at you, a head of lettuce still in his hand. 

“Yes, I do think we need lettuce.“ You answered his question, more directly this time. This seemed to get through to him and he put some in the cart before moving on. There wasn't much in there before a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your head fell against his strong shoulder and your eyes closed immediately at the impact. But it was only a short moment of peace.

“Y/N, Y/N, wake up.“ He shook your body. He was always so considerate. Of course after being woken that softly there was no thought about a good sleep left. But you had another idea. 

“Put me in the cart.“

“Can you repeat that please?“

“You heard me. Put me in the cart.“

He scooped you up bridal style shoving away some of the groceries you had already put in to make space for you and sat you down. You felt like a child. And the happiest child ever on top of that. You and Aaron had many differences and things you were alike in. What differed you from each other was the way you acted without enough sleep. He was the kind of person to shut his mind down, he would prefer to not think at all. His mind was always working the most so it was the part of him that shut down the quickest and got exhausted the fastest. For you it was the other way around, your body was on the suffering end when sleep wasn't on top of the priorities.  

That's why you settled for a way to get the late night shopping spree done quickly. He was pushing the cart, you were still sitting in it and pointed left and right to the goods you needed to get to survive the next week. Aaron's job was to scoop them up, get the desired amount, put them in and move forward. That's how you worked yourself step after step through the store. It seemed soo long. Had it been extended since the last time you were here? 

And even though you were tired and hungry it felt nice. The domesticity of going grocery shopping together is unmatched.

“Aaron?“

“Hm?“

“You are my favourite person to do this with.“ 

“Thanks. Do you think we need ice cream?“

So the journey continued until you reached the checkout. This was going to be awkward. With the amount of groceries you were buying you had become covered in different things really fast. There was something on every part of your body, the only thing still visible being your head that stuck out of the mountain. 

Unsurprisingly, the cashier was also tired. How can he not be? I was not the right person to judge in this situation. He didn't seem to care about anything as you lied there in the cart, food being lifted off you slowly. You were sure he had seen worst. Aaron put the groceries in the big bags you had brought with you, one hand still busy pushing the cart. Now it was time to get out of the cart, everything had already been paid for and stuffed neatly into the bags to be easier to carry. As tempting as it seemed you weren't going to steal a shopping cart just so you wouldn't have to walk. 

Aaron looked down at you and although you felt like you looked truly horrible there was still a glint of admiration and love in his eyes. You reached out his arms for him, like little babies do, and just as them you also wanted to be carried. Not that long though, being helped out would be enough. And with a sigh your boyfriend complied, his arms wrapping around you and then placing your feet softly on the ground. You were standing and safe but he didn't remove his grasp, so you put your arms around his middle pulling him closer. And that's how you stood there, holding each other after being grocery shopping at night and there was only one thought was left in your mind: “This is what love feels like.“

---

After your trip you were too exhausted to be hungry and you promptly went to sleep, indulging in soft unconsciousness. Your breakfast after a good night of sleep was phenomenal having a big pond of food to choose from. When you later told the team about the adventure they kindly informed you that you could have just gone somewhere to eat or order takeout leaving you and Aaron looking really dumb.Well, minds work different when tired and ordering takeout wouldn't have been that fun, that's for sure. But there was still one good thing left: after that there was always something in the fridge to be eaten in the Hotchner's household.

@agenthotchner