#Does anyone have any tip on how to stop feeling guilty for buying something for myself once a year?

[kyouka-supremacy]

Tries to buy something from Ama/zon (tears hair) (vomits blood) (breaks all their bones) (faints to the ground) (starts convulsing) (drops dead)

[myficdump]

Love Letters From a Stalker

The Yandere Sam mod gave me the motivation/inspiration to write this. So although I had Sam in mind for this fic, you could imagine the yandere as any Stardew Valley character since I never reveal who it is. Reader/Player is gender-neutral. 

CW: Stalking, Sexual content but it’s more horror than sexy.

Got a request? :)

___________________

Moving to the valley was like a breath of fresh air in the beginning. Although taking care of the farm was hard work, you loved it out here. You loved having a home bigger than the crummy apartment you lived in back in the city and you especially loved all the space up here. Not to mention the quiet and lack of close neighbors. There wasn’t anyone out here to slam their first on your door or the other side of the wall and scream at you for being too loud or stomping a bit too hard on your floors. 

It was great! Until it very well wasn’t. 

Someone was stalking you. You were so sure of it. It was terrifying and you wish you were wrong. But you kept finding things missing. Clothes-  part of you cringes every time you dwell too long on the fact that it’s mostly your underwear that’s been stolen- trinkets like a snow globe or picture frames that contained just you, and some of the gems you brought back from the mines. Originally you had planned on chalking this up to a simple robbery since practically everyone in town knew you weren't home on certain days, but then the letters had started popping up. They started out okay, but quickly deteriorated from innocent to disturbing. 

  "You did amazing at the Egg Hunt! I’m so glad you won. Congrats on the cool hat and for finally beating Abigail. She’s won ever since Alex stopped participating. Which was years ago.”

  “Are you growing strawberries? I saw you buying some at Pierre’s stand during the Egg Festival but they’re going to die soon :(. You planted them too late, you’re supposed to save them for next year so they can be planted at the beginning of spring and give you lots of strawberries.”

  “I wish you asked me to dance with you at the Flower Dance :(. At least you didn’t have to wear one of those dorky suits or the scratchy dresses. I’ve heard Abigail complain that it hurts and really itches. I’ve heard even Haley say the same thing to Alex and Alex in turn complained about how tight the suits are. So you really dodged a bullet. But dancing with you would have been so nice. Your farmer's outfit makes you look so nice :). 

  “Saw you fishing at the beach today! You look so cute, I wish you’d invite me sometime :) <3” 

  “My dear Farmer, why do you keep talking to so many people? I understand that you need to leave the farm to do errands but does getting seeds warrant talking to so many people?” 

  “They don’t know you like I do. I know you better, I know even the things that you don’t ever tell or show anyone. Like your favorite pair of underwear to wear, your favorite seeds to plant, how you like to eat blueberries every chance you get when you grow them. I know more than you might ever know.”

 This was only the tip of the iceberg. You had received far too many letters to show. None of them were ever signed, not even with a “Secret Admirer”. The letters were just written out like notes and the truly long letters just seemed to end when the writer stopped their train of thought. But the worst ones were the sexual ones. Those truly scared you. 

 “ :O Wow you really have stamina! :) Watching you touch yourself over and over was so hot. I promise I’ll make sure to properly please you when we’re together.”

 After this letter, you rushed to buy curtains for the windows in your house. The black ones in your room were never pulled back. You had to buy them from JojaMart and you felt guilty for not going to Pierre, but it had to be done. You felt so violated. No letters like the one above had been sent again. The stalker just expressed disappointment over the curtains but had instead taken to describing their sick fantasies to you. 

You were at a loss on what to do. Pelican Town had no police, only Luis and telling him was certainly not going to help. Not to be rude, but he was a shitty mayor. Besides you, Robin was the only one who tried to actually do anything for this town but there was only so much she could do without the aid of magical beings. 

“Oh Yoba,” you mutter, holding your head in your hands. “Luis would announce to the whole town my stalker problem.”

Definitely not telling him. 

-SNAP-

Hearing a loud noise outside, you shoot up from your couch. Heart racing, you inch over to the kitchen window. Was it your stalker? What would you do if it was? You had your sword but using it on something other than a monster was frightening. Were you really prepared to hurt someone? 

Peeking behind the curtain, you let out a sigh. It was just a wilderness golem. You were safe. For now. What a relief. If it really was your stalker out there you were a goner. Having no close neighbors meant there was no one around to hear you scream.

You sat back down on the couch and once again pondered what you should do about the situation. Eventually, long after your fireplace went dark, you headed to bed. 

****

Your hands shook as you held the note. Would the stalker ever stop? It was Fall and they had sent so many to you at this point. What a great waste of paper. Taking a deep breath, you opened up the letter. 

  “You should stay home tomorrow. I’d make you scream louder than that stupid maze ever would ;).” 

 Oh, that wasn’t so bad. Pretty tame compared to what you’ve been getting recently. Perhaps you really jinxed yourself because what happened next was much worse. As you placed the letter back into the envelope, you noticed a picture. 

Your eyes went wide and a choked gasp left your throat. It was a picture of your underwear, the crotch smeared with cum. Written on the bottom was: 

Can’t wait to cum inside you :). 

 Knowing what your stolen underwear was being used for caused bile to rise in your throat. The picture was quickly shoved back into the envelope along with the letter. 

“Oh shit, oh  shit. What do I do?” You croaked. “Oh Yoba what do I do. I save these as evidence but what can I do?” 

Deciding you didn’t want to be alone you shoved on your boots and dashed to town. You had sprinklers, the crops would be fine. You just needed to hang out at Pierre’s until the Saloon opened and then you could lurk in there, feeling safe with other people. 

A few minutes later, a figure crept out from their hiding spot and stepped onto your porch. A white present in your favorite pair of underwear was left waiting for you on your bed.

[akingdomofswordsandstories]

Unrequited

azriel (acotar) x reader

Summary: takes place during acofas, you and Azriel are mates but he doesn’t know it yet, angst, fluff, and everything in between

*Also this is my first imagine ever so I'm sorry if it sucks lol! There will be a part 2 to this, but I am still working on it!!

word count: 3927

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

The winter solstice was in a few days and you weren’t sure what to get some of the inner circle. You walked briskly down the streets of the Rainbow, chilled to the bone due to the wind. You had made the dumb mistake of rushing out of the townhouse - to avoid any questions of where you were going - without taking your scarf. Your current outfit, which was a chunky knit blue sweater with leggings and boots, wasn’t enough to keep the chill away. But the cold wasn’t the most important thing on your mind. You had already bought presents for Rhys, Feyre, Amren, and Elain, but that left Cassian, Mor, and Azriel. Mor and Cass would be pretty easy to buy for, but you put it off knowing they would look through your room trying to find their solstice gift. But Azriel, that would be much harder.

Every waking hour, the shadowsinger haunted your thoughts. Something you had come to conclude was unrequited.

You had realized the mating bond between you two before he did.

It had clicked a few months ago while on a diplomatic mission. The aftermath of Hybern had left things chaotic, and if you were being honest, it still was. Rhys decided to send Cassian, Mor, Azriel, and you to travel to some of the other courts to bring back reports on the recovery after the war. However, traveling did have some dangers. While you were on your way back to Velaris from the Winter Court, your group was ambushed by a group of Hybern soldiers who had been hiding out in the mountains. Had it not been for Azriel’s wings shielding you from the initial arrows, you would’ve surely been dead, and that’s when it clicked for you. But like an idiot, you didn’t say anything.

You had thought if the bond had clicked for you, it would've clicked for Azriel too. You realized your mistake when Azriel hadn’t acknowledged any change between you two. You hoped that he would figure it out in the coming weeks, but he didn’t. You knew the same sort of situation happened with feyre and rhys so you still held out some hope. But as the months went by, and you realized the bond still hadn’t clicked for Azriel and it felt too late to tell him.

At least that was the excuse you made up. Truly, you were also afraid of the rejection that could have followed. You weren’t a fool, you knew him and Elain had some sort of connection, and that shattered your dreams even more. The possibility that he wouldn’t accept the mating bond to be with the fair skinned, doe eyed fae. Everytime Azriel was in the same room as Elain, she was the only thing he would pay attention to. During gatherings, you would plaster on a smile and act as if you were happy, but Cassian and Mor, your best friends, could sense your discomfort. They tried to ask you about it, but seeing as you would shut down anything they said, they decided not to pry too much. Amren ended up figuring out the source of your discomfort had to do with Azriel, but kept your secret until you would be ready to share it.

You came to the conclusion that distancing yourself from him would be the best option, so that's what you did.

You walked down the street till you got to one of the finest seamstresses is Velaris. Since you were an artist like Feyre, you decided to draw out a dress and have it made for Mor. The color was blood red, her signature. It was a silk slip dress that would come down to her mid-lower calf and it would be embroidered with a brilliant gold thread. You drew out a pattern of the sun, stars, and moon, which you hoped she would like. To go along with Mor’s dress, you got a jeweler to make a custom necklace and bracelet set to go with it. You designed more dainty jewelry that had gold stars with diamonds, since she was a dreamer.

You decided to design Cassian’s gift as well, creating a beautiful silver and black dagger with a moonstone on the hilt. It was a beautiful dagger, but you also made sure it was usable, because you would hate for it to go to waste. To add onto the combat theme, you also decided to buy him new fighting leathers with touches of red embroidery to match his siphons. Lastly, you bought Cassian a bottle of fae wine, which definitely wouldn't last long.

The last thing you got for all three of you was a friendship necklace. Although that sounds corny, the two of them had become such a positive force in your life and you couldn’t imagine life without them. Keeping with the celestial theme for the friendship necklaces, you bought a sun, a moon, and a star. The sun for Cassian, the moon for Mor, and the star for you. Although they are opposites in some ways, all three need each other, just like the three of you needed each other.

Now that you had gotten Mor’s and Cassian’s solstice gifts figured out, it was onto Azriel’s gift. You honestly had no clue what to get him. Due to distancing yourself, you weren’t sure if there was something that he wanted. You were positively stumped. Lucky for you though, you ended up spotting Mor in another shop a few stores down from where you were, most likely getting the rest of her solstice gifts. You decided to sneak up on her as a friendly prank. Grabbing her shoulders, you yelled in her ear, making her jump.

“Oh mother above, it’s just you, y/n! You scared the life out of me” Mor said.

“Doing some last minute shopping?” you asked. “I could ask you the same thing”. Giving her a playful smack on the arm, the corners of your mouth curled upward, even the simplest remark from her could make you smile.

The two of you were currently standing in front of a jewelry shop, looking at the collections of necklaces and earrings through the window. “Wow” you breathed out “These are all so beautiful”

“Indeed they are, although they’re quite pricey”

“How pricey is pricey?”

She whispered the amount in your ear and you stopped breathing for a second, “Holy Mother wow, that is quite the price tag. At least we can admire it from a far”, you laughed out. Even though you got a very generous salary from Rhys, you still felt guilty spending so much money on materialistic things.

After a moment you said, “Actually, since you’re here, I do need help finding a solstice gift for Azriel”, softening your voice at the end, “Any ideas?” you asked, drawing out the syllables.

“Well, I always get Azriel some cool towels, clothing, or a dagger!” Mor said. A small scoff came out of my mouth as I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. “Fine!” she exclaimed, “I may have overheard him needing a new leather sheath for Truth Teller.” grumbling towards the end. “Oh that sounds great, thank you for the help! Now let’s go off to the closest leather goods store and find a sheath!”.

“y/n! I still have shopping to do” a scowl appearing on her face. “Fine, I guess I’ll just call Cassian, cause his judgement might be better than yours, when it comes to knife related things of course” you said, baiting her.

“Ugh, I hate you y/n”

“I hate you too Mor”

“Fine, let's get going before I change my mind” she grumbled. Then we took off down the streets of the Rainbow to find a sheath.

The task was easier said than done, for you at least. Being indecisive and a major over thinker, you had looked through close to 100 sheaths, but none of them seemed good enough to hold the blade that Azriel never let anyone else touch. Except Elain.

While you were lost in your thoughts, you laid your y/c eyes on the perfect sheath. It had a bright cobalt blue stitching to match Az’s siphons. Along the tip and lining the top of the leather was a thin coat of silver plating with little sapphires embedded in the metal. You quickly snatched it up and paid a hefty price for it, but it was perfect.

“Thank god you finally picked one, it felt like we were in that store for centuries”. Mor sighed, probably a sigh of relief for getting out of the store, “But y/n, it’s perfect, I know Azriel will love it”

“Do you really think so? I just want it to be the perfect gift and I’m scared he won’t like it because what if it’s too simplistic and what if-”

“Hey! It's perfect! Don’t stress too much y/n. And for the record, I think that you’re an amazing gift giver - the amount of thought you put into gifts make it all the better.”

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks and mumbled a small thank you.

“Anyway while we’re here do you need to get anything to go with your solstice outfit?”

“Oh Actually, I was so stressed about getting everyone’s solstice gift that I forgot to buy my dress” your voice falling off at the end. You felt yourself being yanked to a harsh stop and the saw Mor’s face staring at yours, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

“Are you crazy?? Solstice is in 3 days and you still don’t have anything??? Oh honey, our shopping isn’t done yet.” And with that statement you found yourself being pulled into the nearest dress shop. After trying on nearly 20 dresses you finally found the perfect one, which Mor approved. It was a light blue silk dress that was more fitted at the top but flared down at your waist. It had a cowl neckline, a slit going up the side to the mid upper thigh, and accentuates your curves beautifully and has a slight shimmer to it. You looked ethereal in it

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

After your exhausting day of shopping, you couldn’t wait to get out of the cold. You swiftly walked back to the townhouse. Once inside you made your way to your room to set down the gifts, change your clothes, and grab your book. Then you quietly headed down to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the couch to read. The house was quiet since all of the others decided to go to Rita’s tonight. You decided to stay home for some much needed relaxation. You opened your book and started reading. After a few hours, you felt your eyes drooping and eventually, sleep consumed you.

The loud noise of the front door caused you to stir and your eyes fluttered open. You were too exhausted to look so you just laid your head back down and tried to go to sleep. You could hear Mor whispering something and then felt yourself being lifted off the couch and being held close to a chest with your blanket still draped on you.

“Cass?” you whispered hoarsely along with a string of incoherent words

You heard a slight laugh “Not Cass but It’s ok, go back to sleep”. Then you felt yourself being gently placed on your bed and the sleep hit you before you could mutter a thank you.

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

The sun was setting towards the sea as you sat in the sitting room of the town house. You were in your blue silk dress with a glass of wine in your hand. Rhys and Feyre were by the mantel, quietly talking while Mor and Amren were across the room. Near the window I saw Elain, and from the corner of my eye I could see Azriel making his way towards her. My face fell but I quickly plastered on a smile, not wanting to concern anyone. Especially since today was also Feyre’s birthday and we had planned a surprise for her. Feyre thought she could slip her birthday past us, but we hadn’t forgotten. After a few minutes, Cassian made his way from the kitchen with the enormous cake.

You floated towards Feyre and gave her arm a light squeeze. “Happy Birthday, make a wish before the candles melt!”

She blew out the candles and then we ate cake before opening up the presents.

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

Rhys snapped his fingers and piles of brightly wrapped bags and boxes filled up the sitting room. Amren was the first to open her presents. Naturally, everyone got her something jewelry related. Amren opened mine and you saw a wide smile set across her face, she picked up the diamond necklace and nodded a ‘thank you’ your way. You returned the gesture back, a small smile forming on your face.

Next, Cassian handed Mor her present from him and she pulled out a-. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He bought her red lingerie. Your face turned slightly red, but the Mor said “Don’t let him fool you: he couldn’t think of a damn thing to get me, so he gave up and asked me outright. I gave him precise orders. For once in his life, he obeyed them.”

Then, you heard one sharp knock at the door.

Nesta.

You saw Cassian tense up a bit. Nesta walked in, linking arms with Elain. She got a glass of wine before heading to sit in a chair in the back of the room. The silence was deafening. Finally Varian started talking and the present opening resumed.

From Amren, you received a new calligraphy set. It was so beautiful and you loved it. From Rhys, you got some books. It was perfect since you loved to read, and they were ones that you had been wanting to read for a long time. From Feyre, you received a painting as well as a new paint brush kit.

Cassian made his way to you and set a gift down in your lap. You opened the dark blue box that Cassian had placed in your lap. He had gotten you a sky blue hardbound journal with a gold embossed star on it. You desperately needed a new one, and this was perfect. You walked over and gave him a hug, whispered “Thank you, I love it.”.

Next you opened Mor’s present. You nearly choked when you saw what she got you and your whole face heated up. She got you a matching navy blue lingerie set like the one Cassian bought her.

“Yeah, I wasn’t too sure what to get you so I thought we could twin”. You looked around the room and saw the others holding in their laughs. You could’ve sworn you saw a tinge of red on Azriel’s ears. You just smiled and mouthed a silent “I’m going to kill you, but thank you” at her.

There wasn’t anything from Azriel. Your heart twinged. Had you not been important enough? It was just a present you reminded yourself, fixing your composure before handing Cassian his present.

He ripped it open like an animal, squealing when he saw it. A promising reaction given the amount of thought you put into it.

“Did you design these? They look amazing!”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it. It took a long time to figure out what to get for your dumb ass”

“You mean my cute ass”, you smacked his arm and then got up to give Mor her present.

You closely watched her reaction as she opened her dress and jewelry, a large smile spreading across her face.

“You really buy the perfect presents y/n, I love it”.

“Oh Cass, Mor. One more thing.” You pulled out the small boxes with the friendship necklaces and bracelets handing it to them. “This was just a little something extra I thought of, I hope you like it”. You knew you would have started stuttering and crying if you had said the meaning to them, so you just handed them notes instead. They read over them, eyes glossing over, and pulled you into a hug.

“This is the only time I’ll wear jewelry” Cass stated, causing you to chuckle

Then Mor said, “I am never taking this off” causing you to laugh again.

Finally, Azriel opened up his presents. He had opened up all the others. All that was left was yours and Elain’s gift to him. He found his way to your present first, opening it.

“A new sheath for Truth Teller. I heard you needed a new one” you quietly said.

He held your gaze and smiled, “Thank you, it's great”. Suddenly feeling exposed, you quickly gave him a nod.

Then he went to open Elain’s gift. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” she said.

Silence.

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.”

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

You hadn’t heard him laugh before, and mother above it was gorgeous. You had never heard a sound so deep and joyous, a sound which made your heart clench. A part of you wished you were the reason he was laughing. You forced on a smile and spent the rest of the night drinking away the slight pain in your chest.

You were exhausted by the end of the night, sitting on the couch with Cassian and Mor, Azriel and Rhys seated on the opposite side of you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement towards the door, and craned your head to see what was going on. It was Nesta making her way to the door. You felt the couch lift next to you.

Cassian. He had swiftly pushed past Feyre and went after Nesta. This wouldn’t end well.

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

Cassian had come back quiet and brooding, walking straight to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of liquor. You got up off the couch and followed him straight into the kitchen.

“Cass, let’s take a walk, yeah?”

“I just took a walk”

“It wasn’t a question”. You grabbed a white shawl and his hand and led him outside. “What happened?”

“What’s there to talk about? It was like all the other times. Why did I have to fall in love with someone who doesn't even love me back. Who looks at me like the Illyrian born bastard I am. Who hates the idea of being in the same room as me.”

You grabbed Cass’ hand, lightly squeezing it. “Don’t say that. Nesta, she,” your voice stopping for a second “She’s different. The way she handles pain and copes is different. Give her time. She just needs time. I know how much that may pain you, but you can’t rush healing”

You pulled him into a hug

“And for the record, I know the feeling more than you know” you quietly said “unrequited love”, head pointed at the ground.

Cassian tilted his head down to look at you, his face painted with confusion. You could tell he wanted to know more, but didn’t want to pry too much.

You hesitated before continuing, not sure if you wanted to reveal your closely guarded secret. “I-“ your voice faltering, “I found my mate”. The words seemed to have rushed out of your mouth and tears pricked your eyes as you said that. After months of hiding it, you had finally gotten it off your chest.

Cassian stood shocked, staring at you. “You found your mate? And you didn’t think to tell any of us? How long ago was this”

“I-, I found out who he was around the same time Rhys sent us on that diplomatic mission. And I didn’t tell anyone because he doesn’t even know yet.”

“That was almost 6 months ago, and you didn’t say anything?”.

The tears had started flowing at this point, “I thought he would figure it out. But by the time I realized he wasn’t going to figure it out, it was too late. He had already set his eyes on someone else. And I know I could never compete with Elain, even if I am his mate.” the last part slipped out without you realizing.

“Elain? What does she-“ his eyes widening “Does that mean Az is-“

You slowly nodded, tears welled up, threatening to spill out.

“Oh, mother…”, he pulled you into a tighter hug and that’s when the gates broke. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you sobbed into Cassian's chest, his hand stroking your back.

you must have been there for 15 minutes before you realized the other might start getting suspicious. Regaining your composure, you dried your tears and tried, to the best of your ability, to hide that you had been crying.

Looking back at Cassian, you gave him a slight smile before muttering, “Thank you. I’m sorry for dumping that on you, but please promise me you won’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Of course y/n, and don’t apologize, if it makes you feel better, it helped to take my mind off of Nesta and my own problems, which I desperately needed” he chuckled out.

With the smile still on your face, you linked arms with Cassian before saying, “Oh mother above it’s freezing, let’s get back inside before we turn into popsicles!”

He let out another laugh before the two of you made your way back into the house.

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

You walked into the house and your sliver of happiness was crushed as you saw Az and Elain sitting at the table smiling and laughing quietly to themselves. Elain had her sketchbook out, showing Az her plans for the garden.

Your distraught had been clear to anyone who saw your face, and you were too tired to realize you weren’t able to hide it fast enough. Not being able to view the scene anymore, you quickly got up, muttered happy solstice, and grabbed your coat and purse before heading out the door to your apartment.

While walking home, you were consumed by your thoughts. You hated the pangs of jealousy that coursed through you. You often found yourself jealous of her soft spokenness and kindness. You also found yourself jealous of her effortless beauty. It was something that kept you up at night. She was so likeable and easily approachable, something you wished you were.

You were so drowned in your own thoughts that you hadn’t noticed a male following you till it was too late. One of his hands clamped on your mouth while the other grabbed your waist and pushed you into the nearest alleyway.

The male pulled out a knife and your tears started to fall. You were terrified about what he would do to you. This could be the last time you would have seen your family. You were struggling and kicking against him but it was no use. Your senses were groggy from the alcohol and drowsiness.

You had been so stupid to walk home alone at 2 in the morning. No matter how angry you were, you should’ve just stayed at the town house.

Before you could realize what was happening, you felt a sharp pain shoot through your side.

The sound of a clatter.

Receding footsteps.

A crimson stain blooming.

Your body crumpled to the ground and your vision started blacked out. This was it. Nobody could hear you and nobody could save you.

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 2021 day 21 - flower

title: flower girl.

summary: Flower Shop AU - Sasuke works at his mother’s flower shop, and every Wednesday, this girl comes by to buy some flowers. Though he doesn’t know her name, he can’t help but be curious about her.

.

When he thinks about it, Wednesdays must be the busiest day of the week whenever he’s helping his mother at the shop. They start with his alarm forcing him out of bed at 4am so he and his brother can be at the shop before the clock strikes 5am. They take a 10-minute walk— 5 when they’re not that sleepy— make some coffee and wait a little for the truck that arrives with the fresh flowers.

Carefully, then, the brothers unload all the products and take them to his mother’s atelier behind the shop so, by the time she arrives, she can start working her magic into the flowers she loves so much. Mikoto puts the right flowers for the right pots, works on some orders and prepares some bouquets to put on display.

Everything has to be ready and perfect for when they finally open the shop for the clients at 7am.

Everything has to be ready before she arrives.

He’s sitting behind the counter today, playing a game on his phone, when his eyes slowly drift to the clock on the wall. It’s been at least 30 minutes since Itachi turned the sign to ‘open’, and any minute now he knows she will walkthrough that door so she can buy her weekly supply of flowers. For the last couple of months, she’s always their first customer every Wednesday, and he has no reason to believe today will be any different.

Seven more minutes pass, and finally, the bell rings, announcing that someone has entered the shop. His dark eyes immediately follow the sound, and he can’t ignore the slight sense of satisfaction that spreads across his chest when his dark eyes land on pink.

Right on time, he thinks.

From the corner of his eyes, he watches as she walks into the shop, her emerald eyes looking straight at the new hydrangeas. She’s wearing a green summer dress that falls just below her knees, and whose skirt dances freely around her legs. The strap of her small, white purse hangs on her right, sun-kissed shoulder and he notices the way her small fingers are delicately holding it. Her hair— always short and pink— is loosened, the tips just below her chin-line and a stubborn lock brushing her cheek.

Normally, he doesn’t pay that much attention to the people that come by the shop, but for a reason he can’t quite pinpoint, it’s different with her. Sure, she’s a beautiful client, and that alone is enough to catch his eye, but he knows himself well enough to know he’s better than that.

Something about her has caught his attention, to the point where he’s found himself waiting for her to arrive every week now. Perhaps he’s just grown curious over time. Seeing such a young girl almost religiously coming to the store to buy flowers makes him wonder about the actual reasons why she actually does that. Are those flowers for herself? Are they maybe for her mother or even her girlfriend? Not that it’s any of his business, but shouldn’t girls like her be receiving the flowers? Could it be that her boyfriend is that useless?

A sigh escapes his lips. He really doesn’t know why he even cares. He doesn’t know her name, to begin with. Even after helping her more than once, never before has Sasuke bothered to ask for it. It’s going to sound weird, or at least that’s what he tells his brother whenever they end up talking about her— and that happens more times than the young Uchiha dares to admit.

One day, perhaps, he might find out her name. For now, though, he will just continue calling her Flower Girl. It’s not the most creative or specific nickname, but it works just fine whenever he needs to talk about her or even judge the flowers she choses.

He likes to think it’s a good nickname. Besides, it’s not like anyone apart from him and his brother will ever know about this.

Sasuke finds himself resting his face on his right hand as his eyes unconsciously drift back to her. Itachi is showing her the lilies now, and apparently, he said something funny because she’s laughing at his words. For a second, then, she looks at where he’s standing and their eyes meet briefly before she looks back at his brother.

She seems to be in a good mood. There’s a contagious smile on her face, and he can’t help but let his lips twitch upward at that scene.

Eventually, Flower Girl chooses a bucket of blue hydrangeas and starts making her way towards the cashier. He straightens his posture, then, clearing his throat so he can properly greet her. In less than 10 seconds, she’s in front of him and she places the flowers on the counter. She mutters a soft ’hey’, to which he nods politely before proceeding to do his job.

“Would you like anything else?” He asks, cordially.

“No, thanks. Just the hydrangeas today.”

As he registers her products, he steals a glance and can’t help but notice the way her lips twitch as she waits for him. She’s playing with her hair, tugging it behind her ear, and softly, he sees the way her tongue comes out to wet her own lips. Flower Girl takes a deep breath, and it’s as if something ignites inside her eyes.

“Excuse me, but I have to ask…” Her voice comes out, a little too low at first, but eventually, it settles into a more consistent tone. His curiosity peaks, and immediately, he stops what he’s doing and turns to face her. “Are you Uchiha Sasuke?”

He’s confused for a moment, a blank expression spread across his face. His dark eyes are slightly widened as he looks at her face, failing when he tries to read her real intentions. Her eyes are even brighter from such a short distance, and he finds himself fighting the urge to just lose himself in those green pools of hers and in the way his name rolled out of her tongue. “Yes. Can I help you?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry. I don’t need your help or anything like that.” She starts, waving her hand in front of her face as to brush off any formalities. There’s a soft smile on her face, and he doesn’t miss the way her cheeks are weakly tinged in pink. “I was just making sure it was really you.”

“Well…” He starts, adjusting the name tag on his shirt. “That’s me.”

“Good. I guess that makes me your Flower Girl, then.”

Her words catch him completely by surprise, and it’s as if the entire world turns silent around him. His eyes widen, his lips part, and the first sound he registers after what feels like an eternity is his own heartbeat inside his chest. It’s slow, at first, to the point where he thinks it might suddenly stop, but eventually, it grows faster in what he concludes to be pure despair.

“W-what?” He asks, though he knows better than to believe he heard it wrong.

“Your Flower Girl.” She repeats, and even if he thought it wasn’t possible, he starts to feel worse.

His chest grows inconveniently warmer, the heat spreading all the way up to the tips of his ears. His throat is dry, but that doesn’t bother him because Sasuke can’t find it in himself to form any words right now. He’s dumbfounded, experiencing a mix of shock and embarrassment for the first time in his short life, and it’s safe to say he hates the way it feels. He wishes the ground could just swallow him whole right now, but he knows better than to believe life is fair. Especially his life.

Fuck.

He can’t believe this is happening right now. How on earth does she even know about the Flower Girl thing? It was meant to be a secret he would take to the grave and not something meant to be discovered after just a couple of months by some random girl. The only ones beside him who know about that are his mother and—

Itachi. Oh, that bastard.

He steals a glance at his older brother, who’s simply watching him with a guilty smile on his face. He’s not trying to hide or deny anything, and that only serves to infuriate him even more. Itachi waves teasingly at him before disappearing behind the stacks, leaving him all alone with the pinkette. He was just betrayed by his own blood and even if all he wants right now is to become an only child, there are more pressing matters standing right in front of him with the prettiest green eyes he has ever seen.

Sasuke needs to find a way out of this whole mess, he knows, but nothing comes to mind. No last-minute trick or plausible excuse. No perfectly calculated accident to ruin the conversation or blow him away. Nothing that would make her believe this is all just a big misunderstanding instead of the purest truth. The Uchiha can’t escape this situation, at least not without making things worse. He needs to think. He needs to use his mind to get himself out of this thing, and he needs to do it fast or else he will lose their best customer, his pride as a man and the reason for his Wednesdays to be at least bearable.

His dark eyes are now looking at her because that’s the only thing he can bring himself to do. Instinctively, he’s trying to find something— anything, really— that will help him bring his mind back to his body so he can, at least, find the right words to apologize. He then begins to note the unique color of her hair, her bright, emerald eyes; the barely visible sun freckles on her cheeks, and he really starts to feel his heart calming down, but that’s just until he sees it.

A sly smirk is taking over her lips. It’s a tricky one, and judging by how she’s not even trying to hide it, Sasuke immediately realizes she knows exactly what she’s just done. She’s up to something— Flower Girl is clearly messing with him. She’s intentionally teasing him with all those words, and right now it’s clear that he has just fallen for her act.

Oh, that girl. Who would’ve thought such a beautiful girl like her would posses such a cunning mind?

Before the youngest Uchiha can even bring himself to say anything, a giggle escapes her lips, and soon, it grows into a full laughter. He watches as her burst of happiness reaches her eyes and how genuine that whole thing is as it fills the entire store with that warm feeling. If his social misery can bring out something like that, well, perhaps he should start telling her more about his best friend’s love life.

After a couple of seconds, then, her laughter fades with a sigh and she uses her right index to wipe a tear that had threatened to roll down her face. There’s a smile gracing her lips, and he swears he could feel his heart skipping a beat just now. “I’m so sorry. Oh, my.” She chuckles. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“Tch.” He scoffs.

“I was just messing with you. Or—well— maybe I should say that I’m just helping with your older brother’s prank. He’s the one who wanted to leave you in an uncomfortable position. And judging by your reaction, I guess it worked.”

An annoyed pout now takes over his lips. “How very mature of you two.”

“I know… I know, my bad.” She agrees. “Sorry about that.”

His eyes watch as she scratches the back of her head and he realizes she’s actually feeling guilty about the whole thing and that doesn’t help him soothe his nerves at all. She should not be the one apologizing. Not when he was the one who called her Flower Girl in the first place. He’s never meant it as a bad thing— quite the opposite, in fact— nevertheless, he should’ve been more considerate. If anyone should be apologizing, it was him. And that was exactly what he was going to say.

“Look.” He started, taking a deep breath. “You don’t have to apologize. I do. Sorry about this whole thing. I shouldn’t have given you a nickname to begin with. I promise I didn’t mean to be rude or anything like that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. It’s fine, really. I didn’t think it was rude or anything like that. It was pretty cute, actually.” She smiles at him, and it’s as if he can finally feel his heart beating again. “Besides, it’s not like I was meant to even know about that in the first place, right?”

“Definitely not.” He answers, a little too quickly for his own liking.

“You should thank your brother for that.”

“Oh, later I will, for sure.”

Another chuckle escapes her lips, and he’s glad to know she didn’t mind the nickname— cute, she even said. Now that most of the embarrassment has faded, Sasuke can think clearly again and even if he’s still plotting a revenge against his older sibling, it’s undeniable that having his secret revealed got him a chance to openly talk to her for the first time. They’re making small conversation and it’s nothing really important, but it’s already something.

It’s a start, at least.

The smile on her face suddenly changes into a small pout, and he can easily tell she’s curious. Though they don’t really know each other, he likes the way her expressions are so clear and honest. She bites her lower lip, then, her eyes fidgeting for a moment. She clears her throat and her attention returns to him. Flower girl is staring at him, and if not for her pink hair and inoffensive looks, he would’ve been intimidated by that.

“What is it?” He asks, not really taking in that stare anymore. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, not really… It’s just…” She starts, her eyes narrowing a bit. “Why Flower Girl?”

“What?”

“Why did you choose this nickname? Flower Girl, I mean… I’m pretty sure I’m not the only girl that comes by to get some flowers.”

His eyes widen slightly for a moment until his expression returns to normal. Of course she would be curious about that, he thought. Thinking about it now, that was probably the most generic nickname he could’ve come up with for her. Truth is, he has started calling her like that simply because he never really knew her name, but it’s not like he knows the name of every female customer that comes into the store. The thing that made Flower Girl the Flower Girl was probably the fact that she was the only female customer that actually caught his attention in all the time he’s been working at the shop.

Maybe it was the unusual color of her hair or even the fact that she comes by every week morning, but he can’t deny that he was captivated by her. She’s a very beautiful and attractive woman, sure, but there’s more to it, he knows. Still, it’s not like he can tell her that without sounding like a weirdo. And if anything, he has already sounded like one a lot today.

“Your name… I didn’t know it— still don’t know it.” He starts, and suddenly, he realizes that saying it is harder than he had imagined. His eyes look down for a moment, and instinctively, he uses his index finger to scratch his cheek. “And since you’re basically the only girl who comes by every week, then, you know… Flower Girl.”

“Oh… I see.” She says bluntly, and a pensive expression takes over her demeanor. Though he’s sure she is going to add more to that, silence settles between them. It’s not really uncomfortable, he notices, but it still leaves him wanting more. More of her stories, more of her laugh—more of her.

He needs to keep their conversation going. He has to find a new subject so it can be easier for him to properly talk to her when she returns next week. It’s his only chance and he can’t let it go to waste. He can’t let her—

“Sakura.” She starts, her eyes switching from her feet to his dark orbs. “My name is Sakura.”

Her soft voice catches him off guard, and he’s taken aback by that. When he looks at her again, he can see a small blush tinging her cheeks, and for the first time, he can see an inch of embarrassment in her. Earlier, she had no problem with the nickname, but when it comes to her real name, well…

And just when he thought she couldn’t get any cutter.

“Hn, how very ironic for you to have been named after a flower.”

“Yeah.” She chuckles. “I guess I was destined to become Flower Girl.”

The corner of his lips slightly curl upwards as he finds himself surpassing a smirk that wants to escape. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Sakura.”

“You, too, Sasuke.” She smiles at him, her head tilting to the right as she does so. Her hair responds to the gravity of her movement and he watches as some of her pink locks sway. “I’m glad I could finally talk to you.”

“Uh? Were you trying to talk to me before?”

“Well, to be honest, yeah…” She shrugs, somewhat shyly.

“Are you, perhaps, stalking me?” He smirks, watching as she gets slightly embarrassed.

“Shannarou, that’s not that!” Her face grows a shade of red and he can’t help but notice the peculiar expression she used. “It’s just that you’re the first person I’ve met in this city that seems to be the same age as me, and I guess I was just looking for a reference or something. Living alone in a strange city isn’t really that simple.”

A familiar warmth takes over his chest at her words, and unconsciously, Sasuke starts to sympathize with her current condition. She’s a young girl, and she’s all alone in a big city like Konoha. Even if he has never really left the safety of his parents’ house, it isn’t hard for him to imagine how difficult it must be to go through all that by herself. Whatever her reasons for choosing this might be, it’s still something that will take the pinkette a lot of time to get used to.

She must be lonely, he thinks, but decides not to mention anything about that for now. He simply nods at her, showing Sakura that he comprehends her feelings, and she simply smiles in return. Her eyes delicately fall to the hydrangeas she chose, and he doesn’t miss the tenderness that is decorating her expression right now.

“They help me a lot, you know? The flowers, I mean.”

“Do they?”

“Aah.” She nods, excitedly. “They make my small apartment seem happier, somehow. It’s nice coming home to them. So—uhm— thank you, I guess.”

The smile plastered on her face easily makes its way to her bright eyes, and his heart skips a beat. This girl— this gentle and talkative girl— is really thanking him for selling her flowers every week. Though they’ve just discovered each other's names, she’s telling him small parts of her life that seem so pure and fragile; and for a moment, he feels like their connection is heading beyond flowers and nicknames.

He’s growing fond of her, he can tell. Sasuke knows he’s no longer just curious to know about her reasons to buy the flowers or why she comes by every week. There’s a lot more to it, for now he finds himself wanting to know about certain aspects of her private life that have nothing to do with plants or fertilizer. He wants her to tell him more about herself— as long as that’s what she wants, of course.

He wants to know Sakura. And something tells him that, eventually, he will.

Without thinking much, the young Uchiha smiles back in return, slowly pushing the bucket of flowers back towards her. “Shouldn’t we be thanking you for shopping here?”

“You’re probably right.” She chuckles, giving him her credit card so she can pay for the hydrangeas. “I guess I just can’t help it. I do love your flowers. Sometimes I get so excited about them that I leave home before breakfast.”

“What?” He asks, slightly shocked.

“I can’t help it. It’s stronger than me.”

“Tch.” He sighs. How annoying, he thinks, and the expression spread across his face clearly gives away. She giggles, then, and a sudden idea comes to his mind. “Did you leave home without eating today?”

“Oh, no. Not today. I had a nice breakfast this morning.” She states, proudly. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…” He starts, scratching the back of his neck as a reflex. “Whenever you leave without breakfast, there’s always coffee here. I don’t know if you like it or not, but—”

“I love coffee.” Sakura cuts through his speech, a little too excited. “Next time, then, we’ll have some coffee together.”

A soft smile takes a couple of seconds to make its way to her lips, and he finds himself growing a little too excited about said next time. Sasuke doesn’t know when it’s going to be, but he can already imagine certain things that make him feel at ease.

A morning spent with Flower Girl… It will be a good day.

“Next time, then.” He confirms.

“I’ll be waiting.”

It will be a pleasant Wednesday, indeed.

fin.

--------

a/n: this took me way too long to finish and I don’t really know why. I had this idea at least a month ago, but I JUST COULDN’T FINISH! Well, now it’s finished lol. Anyway, this is a cute one mostly because I needed something cute. Hope you guys enjoy this, and please, leave me your opinion!

[circethegoblin]

STAYING ALIVE MASTERPOST, FROM A BROKE TEEN WITH ADHD

here you go. some down to earth tips on how to not die metally nor physically.

tired of those "drink three liters of water everyday uwu" and "wake up at 5 am" and "buy a bath bomb and a fec mask and some other things you don't have the money for" shit? i'm here for ya.

1. NOT DYING

eat at least three meals a day, one of which m u s t be warm and above 300 kcal (it can be istant ramen with an egg added if you have to)

you technically should shower everyday, but we know how it is. A change of clothes is sometimes enough.

DRY SHAMPOO AND BABY WIPES!!!

keep bottles with water everywhere. On your desk, near that spot on the floor you always end up sitting on, near your bed, basically whenever you know you spend a lot of time. No need to get up and go to the kitchen will help. Obviously change the water in the bottles as often as you can.

Get some form of physical activity. It doesn't have to be much, you can for example replace scrolling on tiktok by walking around your room and scrolling on tiktok! Brilliant, isn't it? Obviously, running or doing those 10 minutes workouts from youtube is better, but you are still getting like an hour of walking.

Buy blankets. Steal blankets. Summon blankets from other dimensions. Just make sure you have a lot of warm, soft blankets in your house. You will thank me when you won't have the anergy to wash your sheets (just take them off and throw some blankets on your bed), or when the power goes out.

If you have pets, ALWAYS keep spare food that'll last for a week for them.

things to always have in the kitchen: milk, eggs, flour, rice, pasta, yeast, cheese, oil, a leafy vegetable, onions, tomatoes, apples, patatoes, some flavourful sauce, sugar, salt, spices and an emergency chocolate bar. You can make a lot of food with those. Just make sure you won't eat the chocolate too fast.

Have a lot of spare batteries. A lot.

Get urself a flashlight, a lighter, and a pocket knife.

Remember the apples? eat one a day. if you don't like apples or you can't eat them for any other reason, you can take a kiwi, banana, orange, basically something that will give you vitamins and non processed sugar.

do the dishes before your sink starts developing it's own ecosystem

drugs from that one guy around the corner = very bad time

2. NOT DYING INSIDE

Open the damn window.

Don't watch so many commentary videos. You are probably not even checking the sources, so you can easily make unjust judgement, and like. did you even hear of half of those people before?

make a discord server just for yourself. get into the habit of writing little things that happened to you there. rant about the fanfics you read. or the movies. vent there if you don't have anyone you can vent to. write your ideas there, write e v e r y t h i n g. make a section for passwords, for quick ideas, for your to do lists. you won't lose it as you do with sticky notes or notebooks. there is no risk anyone will see it. oh, and when you'll have a strong impulse to tell emily that you hate her? write that message in your private server and list all ur arguments. look at tat the next day and decide if you really mean that.

life sucks. come to peace with it.

cuddle ur pets if you have them

1 hour a day without a lot of sensory input. if you have to, reduce to half an hour.

if you find yourself scrolling endlessly through social media, make sure it's pintrest (just don't compare urself to the people here; if you have issues with that, tumblr may be better)

delete. twitter. from. your. phone.

influencers are lying to you; maybe not even intentionally. remember when you were watching that cute-aesthetic-productive morning routine, and you were wondering why your life isn't that pretty? why your room is a mess? why you cannot for the life of god be aesthetic 24/7? its the filter. don't worry about it, their lifes arent that nice either.

realize there's actually nothing stopping you from screaming as loud as you can right now. like there is no physical barrier. think about it. realize there's no actual physical barierr to many other things.

your body is your body. you can decide how it looks like; just remember it's in your greatest interest to keep it healthy.

3. BEING A LITTLE BETTER THAN JUST ALIVE

If you wear make up, take it off before you go to sleep.

moisturize your body; everything is better when your skin doesn't feel dry

have a one brand of cosmetics that you love and buy things mainly from it. they often have sets of products that complete each other. i like ziaja. it's a polish brand, it's surprisingly cheap and has nice quality

cleanser, moisturizer, face mist

of you can, change your sheets once every two weeks

do the dishes before your sink starts developing it's own ecosystem

do a deep house clean once a month (don't beat yourself up when you don't tho)

keep your workspace organized (it doesn't have to look organized to other people, remember)

sunscreen

cook your own food

keep a calendar

no money for scented candles? got ya. make a simmer pot: throw some apple peel, a couple of cinnamon sticks and whatever spices that smell good you have into a pot, add some water and simmer. boom. your house smells good, and you haven't spend 20 dollars.

If you really like candles, buy scented wax melts. it's cheaper.

Buy urself scented mists. they're pretty cheap and will make you feel A LOT better.

keep your clothes clean. if you aren't sure if that shirt thats on your chair is dirty or not, throw it in the washing mashine anyway. better be sure.

if you can, make your bed right when you get up

wear clothes that make you feel good. put some effort into your outfits. really.

4. OTHER PEOPLE

be nice to essential workers.

if you have money, give tips.

remember, you do not owe anyone love; it is not something you can force. even if they saved your life. even when they helped you in your darkest time. if you don't love them, you don't.

you don't have to be in a romantic relationship to be happy.

if you want to, date! date everyone! date girls, date boys, date nonbinary people! date people completly different than you, date people from different countries, date them!!! just make sure they're kind and won't kill you. even if you don't end up in a relationship, you can learn a lot.

don't be afraid to piss off people that deserve it

smile to strangers :)

5. NOT FAILING SCHOOL

heard of dark academia? check it out

romanticize the heck out of studying

do not let your studying be just reading the same partagraph over and over again. it won't work. believe me.

seterra for geography, quizlet for everything else

try to make yourself intrestet in whatever you are studying (watch veritasium, listen to podcasts about weird history facts)

notes are for you and you only; don't worry about them looking pretty. doodle on margins, make weird metaphors, squeeze in as much info as you can.

when you're studying, listen to music without words/in a language you don't understand.

chew gum while you study

get the forest app, get attached to the trees, focus.

don't feel guilty for taking breaks

grades aren't everything, but they are important.

eat something in school

don't just use the cheapest pens. invest a couple dollars in something that will make writing enjoyable and smooth

those study with me videos? they're great

if you like to argue with the teachers, take care of your grades becouse. they may not like you afterwards.

be nice to your classmates and help them with homework. if you don't do your homework they'll help you

executive dysfunction won't let you study? been there. sometimes it's better to wake up ealier tommorow and do that homework then.

don't feel guilty for failing a test

go to the goddamn class

don't pull all nighters oh my god don't especially on weekdays

6. OTHER LIFEHACKS

don't get involved in the crime, and if you do always have a believable explanation why you were doing it

have different alarm sounds for every day of the week

set a daily limit of money that you spend

great hobbies that don't require a lot of money; urban exploration, writing, hiking and learning other languages

thrift stores

don't eat grapefruits while on meds

nail polish removers dissolve most strong glues.

if you have a cut on your skin, desinfect it. do it. please just do it.

always have pads with you. even if you don't get periods, at least one of your friends probably does

sign up in your local library. its free

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterFour

Read on AO3 (EN) ///// Ler no AO3 (PT)

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit violence

Words so far: +19,998k (did not include this chapter)

Marks: @mionemymind​

When you return to the campfire, you laugh at the image of Bucky trying to learn to play guitar with Maria. He sounds like a disaster, squeezing the strings hard, or following the instructions in a way that is completely contrary to what she tells him. Maria however seems to be a very patient teacher, and when you sit around the campfire, you both exchange a knowledgeable look, where you were thanking her for the time with Carol

Nat hands you a beer, and remembering the three glasses of whiskey you had earlier, you grimace at her, saying that any more and you would be tripping. She laughs and says that your drunk version could entertain the party.

You spend several minutes talking and laughing, Pietro joins you shortly afterwards, bringing dominoes. He tries to hint that you should borrow your new set of cards, but you just signal that he was forbidden to mention poker to you indefinitely. Nat wins two games in a row, laughing when you and Pietro let out a grumble of dissatisfaction, and then Pietro hints that she was cheating, which makes her angry enough to try to hit him with the board. You get up to get more beer, laughing lightly as you leave your bickering friends behind.

You should be used to the habit of your gaze always searching for Wanda when she's not in your line of sight, but you always mentally reprimand yourself for doing so. You imagine that you used to disguise it better, seeing the look of malice that Thor casts when he sees you clearly looking for something. You think about disguising it, pretending that you had dropped something, but honestly, what's the point of pretending. He raises his glass in one direction, signaling the corner near Steve's tent, and you finally find it. Wanda and Monica are working together to set up Bucky's old radio, you realize as you watch them carry a small table with the piece of equipment on top.

Taking a long sip of your beer, you allow yourself to admire Wanda for the seconds it takes you to reach her. You remember how beautiful she looked in her dress, but you can't help thinking how irresistible she looks in her usual clothes, work pants and standard shirt, the suspenders hanging loosely against her waist, while the spurs attached to her boot scuff lightly on the grass as she walks. You don't think much about it, but you notice the open buttons of her shirt, her collarbone exposed. You imagine that she might have felt hot after searching for the radio in the warehouse wagon, and you know that if she needs it, you will offer her your coat.

Wanda smiles at you when she sees you coming close, you shyly reciprocate.

- We thought we might dance a bit. - She says as soon as you reach her. Monica approaches with batteries in her hands.

- I'll be happy to look. - You joke, and Wanda looks at you with a mixture of seriousness and amusement.

- No way, the birthday girl dances with everyone. - She warns, raising a finger at you. You laugh, and feeling very confident after all that drinking, you don't think much and start letting the words flow out of your mouth.

- I just wanted to dance with you. - You confess amidst a smile, Wanda looks surprised, but smiles with a slightly flushed face. The sound of the radio catches both of your attention, breaking the moment.

The sound attracts other members of the gang, and before long they are almost all - with the exception of Maria and Thor, who seem engaged in a very heated debate about the best breeds of horse - together in the area of Steve's stall.

- Does anyone have a choice of music? - Monica asks as she fiddles with the buttons on the radio, turning up the volume, the sound is pleasantly loud in the room

- Anything that you can dance to. - Pietro suggested, and when the first sounds of the chosen melody began, he excitedly took Nat by the hand. She laughed, pushing him lightly by the shoulders.

- It's not polite to pull a lady along, boy! - You heard her say. - Ask if I want to dance first.

- Would you like to dance with me, Natasha? - Pietro asked, bowing dramatically, as if he were making a reference. Nat laughed.

- Of course not, go bother the other ladies. - She denied this humorously, and Pietro pretended to be offended. He walked towards Monica and held out his hand, repeating the invitation in a gentler manner. The woman smiled before accepting, and as their dance began, others soon joined in. You watched fondly as Bucky pushed his shoulder against Steve's slightly, an amused expression on his face. Steve put the beer on the counter and extended his hand to his friend, who accepted, and they began to dance. Peggy invited Potts, and they joined the group. Nat walked over to you and Wanda, a mischievous smile on her face. You were about to offer to dance with her, but she was quick to say.

- I'll take this. - She said as she grabbed the beer you were carrying.

- Are you sure you don't want to...

- You know very well that I don't dance. - She interrupts you. - Besides, you're both dying to dance together.

Nat winked at you before walking away, and you felt your face heat up. Turning to Wanda, you found her already looking at you. You smiled and she offered her hand to you, inviting you to dance. You shifted your weight between your feet before accepting.

- I can't dance, Wands. - You whisper as you come closer. Wanda just smiles at you tenderly.

-Follow my lead then. - She answers in the same tone, interlacing your hands. With her other hand, she grabs your free forearm, bringing it up to her own shoulder, showing you where to place it. You begin to look down at your own feet in anticipation, and Wanda places a finger on your chin, slowly lifting your face to make you look into her eyes. - You must look into your partner's eyes.

- But what if I step on your feet? - you ask half breathless at the intensity of her gaze.

- Don't worry, darling. Just breathe. - She assures you, and you feel her hand around your waist. 

And then her body moves, and you focus on following. You count your steps mentally, and try to focus on not stepping on Wanda's feet. It is very hard to concentrate on anything with emerald eyes staring at you with intensity, and the smell of Wanda that seems to overpower all your senses. You are nervous, and your body is tense. You feel guilty as you notice Wanda's frown due to your posture.

- Relax, Y/N. - She whispers tenderly. - It's just me.

You smile, but find it difficult to obey as you look at her. So you lean your face against your hand on Wanda's shoulder. You miss seeing her face, but the position is also very good. She brings your bodies a little closer together, and you get used to the warmth of having her so close with ease. You stay like this, rocking together in an almost hug, your hands intertwined as the hand on your back goes down a little, and you let your gaze wander around.

If you thought you were dancing too close together, those thoughts vanish the moment you see Steve and Bucky, so tightly glued together that there is no space between their bodies. Monica and Pietro seem to be the only ones who are dancing further apart, yet they are very close. As the melody comes to an end, you hear the other members laughing, and Pietro goes towards the radio to change the music while you slowly separate from Wanda. She doesn't let go of your hand, however, and nods for you to follow her. You let yourself be pulled in the opposite direction from the hut area, to a more secluded corner among the trees. As you exit, Nat gives you a mischievous look that makes you blush.

When you were completely hidden from the rest of the camp, Wanda stopped, she looked nervous, shifting her weight between her feet as she let go of your hand. You looked at her curiously.

- I wanted to give you your present. - Wanda said, looking around as if searching for something. She bent down quickly to grab something behind a broken log.

She walked over to you with a mischievous expression. She handed over the package, and maybe it was the alcohol, but you found her fingers lingering on yours as she did so.

A dark wooden box was placed in your hands, and you frowned curiously, wondering what was inside. In fact, the box was so beautiful that you would be very pleased if it were empty.

You opened the clasp, holding your breath in surprise as you noticed the contents. A revolver gleamed against your eyes. You knew very well what kind. It was the Lemat revolver you had wanted to buy on your one and only trip to Saint Denis with Wanda and Pietro. You joked that one day you would have enough money for weapons like that, without having to steal, as your gaze lingered on the item. You never imagined that Wanda would remember this. 

With the tips of your finger, you touched the details that were drawn into the metal of the gun, smiling as you noticed the figure of a wolf carved into the tip. The lone wolf was your nickname as a child, Steve used to call you that whenever you were angry and you needed to travel, you always walked several meters ahead of him, like "a lone wolf".

Feeling your emotions too close to overpowering you, you swallowed the urge to cry as you felt overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, how much attention Wanda had on you to think about the present. The redhead seemed anxious to know if you had enjoyed it, but you kept your face impassive as you looked at her. 

You stowed the gun back in its case, and held it in one hand while reaching down with the other for your old revolver hanging from your waistband. Removing the gun from its holster, you checked that it was properly locked before throwing it on the grass. Wanda watched you intently, frowning slightly in confusion, but you didn't speak. 

In no hurry, you removed your new gun from the box, taking one last look at it before putting it in its holster. Getting used to the weight as you closed your eyes for a moment.

Then you bent down quietly, and put the box down, finally looking at Wanda. She blinked at you in anticipation, and you bit your lip as you ran your gaze across her face. Your mind racing on so many possibilities of how you could return the gift. The thoughts were innocent at first, but you would blame the alcohol for the direction they took next.

- Did you like it? - She asked without holding back, and you sighed without answering, which seemed to make her insecure.

- I'm thinking about how to repay something like that. - You answered mysteriously, and Wanda let out a nervous laugh, clearly affected by the intensity of your eyes.

- You don't have to. - She says, but you only disagree with a nod, and then she holds her breath as you approach. 

- I want to. - You speak in a low tone, and when your faces are inches apart, you can only stare at her mouth. - Good girls should be rewarded.

You almost stumble with shock when Pietro's voice interrupts the moment. He mumbles apologies as you turn away from Wanda, but then you really begin to understand what he said:

- He's here. Stephen is back! - He cheerfully affirms by waving for you two to go back to the camp. He runs towards the tents, and you turn to Wanda, but she just looks at you intensely, coming up to you and giving you a quick kiss on the corner of your cheek, very close to your mouth, before running after her brother.

You rush to grab the box and the pistol at your feet before running after them.

With Stephen's sudden return to the gang, everyone's mood seemed to improve considerably. And you felt much better knowing that he would treat Bruce, since he had always been the camp doctor.

It has been three days since you almost kissed Wanda in the forest in thanks for the gun you got as a gift. Every time you remember it you feel a wave of shame fill your body, and maybe a little guilt, for having been careless enough to drink to the point of ignoring the minimum of common sense. With this feeling, you had spent the last few days accepting all sorts of camp tasks, to keep yourself busy and unavailable as much as possible to talk about what had occurred. At every moment when your gaze met Wanda's, whether it was between carrying hay to the horse area, or during meals, you made sure to look away while you found a way to escape somewhere else.

As the date approached for the bank heist to take place, you could almost touch in the air the anxiety of those who would participate. Fortunately Thor was back in business and insisted that he would participate in the ambush. Bucky had already secured all the necessary weaponry, and Peggy confirmed that she was working with the final tweaks of the plan. Pietro and Nat went to Valentine the day before and discovered that the workers from the oil plant were all already in town, which seemed to be the last missing piece of the plan. Things seemed to be conspiring in your favor when it came to avoiding Wanda, since she had been as busy as you are, and had not even returned from the buffalo hunt she went on together with Thor and Stephen. 

In the late afternoon, you returned to your tent feeling exhausted from having spent all day organizing the ammunition wagon, as one of your punishments for the Limpany shooting. Bucky was kind enough to sit next to you while he cleaned some weapons, and when he was done, he practiced a bit of guitar playing.

You threw yourself on the bed, groaning against the pillow. Fortunately, your shoulder was practically healed by now, and you didn't need any more bandages. You heard someone huffing in the doorway, so you opened one of your eyes lazily, and caught sight of Nat standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and a suggestive look on her face.

- You know, I'm surprised at how well you're holding up. - She says, and you close your eyes, too tired to puzzle. Seeing your lack of interest, she gives you a wry smile, thinking how stubborn you are when you want to be. - I thought you would only last a day.

- I don't know what you're talking about. - Your voice was muffled against the pillow, but you kept your eyes closed and your face against the fabric. It was so soft.

- In fact, Pietro and I bet that you wouldn't go two days without talking to each other. I'm only bringing this up because I'm losing the bet. - You felt your stomach turn when you finally understood what she said. But not wanting to give her the taste of being right, you just let out an impatient grunt against the pillow, which made Nat laugh instead of pushing her away. - Pietro bet that you would be stubborn enough to hold out until Wanda pushed you off your horse, but I thought you wouldn't go two days without talking to the redhead. You know I don't like to lose.

- Nobody likes to lose. - You retorted. - That's the whole point of betting. 

She stood with her arms crossed as you lifted your face from the bed, and then you adjusted yourself to sit up on the mattress. Seeing your tired expression, Nat assumed a worried look.

- What is happening to you?

You thought you were going to cry. But you only smoothed your hair and gave her a sad smile. She closed your tent and sat down beside you on the bed.

- I almost kissed her on my birthday. - You confess with a lost look in your eyes.

- Isn't that a good thing?

- I was drunk. - You retorted. - I can't believe I was going to grab her in the middle of the forest. That's so scary.

Nat watched you sink your face in your hands, and she began to play with your hair, trying to calm you down.

- You talk as if you were some unknown drunk who chased Wanda into the woods. - She says in an almost amused tone. - I really don't understand how your head comes to such conclusions.

- I just didn't want it to be like that. - You say, moving your fingers nervously. - I don't know what I really wanted. Maybe I wanted it to be special.

- My God, you are so corny. - Nat sneered, but there was no malice in her tone. She braided your hair loosely, and then held out your hand. - I really think that you two are made for each other. And that no matter where it happens or how, Wanda will enjoy your first kiss. 

- And you say that I'm the one who's corny. - You joke, and Nat nudges your shoulder lightly, laughing softly. 

- Oh, but you are indeed. - She replies. - I always thought that you've been secretly dating for years.

You groaned uncomfortably, Nat laughed at your expression.

- I brought something for you. - She says after a moment of silence. Only then you notice that she was carrying something in her pants pocket, and she moves on the bed to pick it up. She hands you a holster. - I hear you have two revolvers now. You can have my extra case.

You smiled, thanking her. Nat whispered a " Don't mention it" before kissing you on the forehead and leaving. Without getting out of bed, you reached for your belt hanging from the chair on your desk and slipped the holster you had earned onto the front of the bed. You were happy to know that you could carry two weapons now. 

Putting your belt back on the chair, you yawned, deciding to get some sleep.

It seemed like a weekend, you thought as you took a sip of coffee, which you almost spit out when you tasted the bitterness. Saloons weren't exactly the best place to get drinks like this, and since you were avoiding alcohol, it was either bitter coffee or water. You began to think that water was the better option.

Steve had sent you to Valentine to get uniforms from the factory, or more accurately, steal uniforms. Peggy had made one last adjustment to the plan, and you found out that you would need to infiltrate the factory if you wanted information about the safe where the money was going to be. Pietro would be the one to infiltrate the place, and since he was the fastest rider, he would have to get out of there as fast as he could to let Peggy know which was the correct safe. You weren't going to start any unnecessary gunfire, so anything that could be done in silence, would be.

You had been waiting for the two clearly inebriated men to finish playing to follow them, and that had been for about two hours. You sighed without patience, and then walked over to the table, trying to sound as friendly as possible when you joined the game. 

If you bankrupted them in the game, they would have no choice but to leave the table, you thought as you received your cards from the dealer. 

You played carefully but objectively, remembering all the tactics that Fury taught you. In less than an hour of play, you had already defeated one of them. But because you were too focused on the game, you didn't notice the threatening posture the loser assumed. 

When you finally defeated the second one, the men were not the slightest bit pleased. You stumbled backwards when one of them pushed you against the counter. 

- I don't like being robbed, girl. - Said the brown-haired man, he had a threatening expression on his face, and you felt quite intimate as he had a knife pressed to your throat.

-A bad loser I see. - You sneer, and he blinks angrily. But then there is a gun pointed at the man's forehead and the grip of the knife on your throat loosens. The bartender doesn't seem willing to witness a murder in his bar. You know his name is Tom, and you thank him softly when he asks the men to leave the bar. But your relief is short-lived, for as you walk out, they are waiting for you outside.

- I want my money back, whore! - One of them shouts and you take a few steps back, your boots clattering in the mud of the road.

- Come on fellas, I won fair and square. - You try to argue, and then you see the man draw his knife at you again. Impatient, you lower your hand to the holster, and the other man imitates the movement. You had no intention of ending up in a duel when you woke up this morning, but here you were.

The man with the knife stepped aside, clearing the shooting area for his friend. You let out a sigh, your hand gripping the revolver. Your gaze focused on the man in front of you, a few steps away. It was a risky duel, and you hoped he was as bad at aiming as he was at poker. 

A moment passed, and then you grabbed your gun and fired. Fortunately, faster than your opponent, who fell to the ground with a thud. The other man was in a state of shock as you stood there, smoke billowing from the tip of your revolver. You barely had time to normalize your breathing when the other man lunged at you with knife in hand. You fired twice, and watched the expression of pure shock as he staggered back, and then fell over dead. You felt a slight burning sensation on your cheek, indicating that he had cut you, but you barely had time to process the two murders when you felt yourself being pulled away. 

Valentine's sheriff seemed more interested in showing service than actually helping anyone, and he didn't believe or care that it might have been self-defense when he threw you into one of the jail cells, which was only a few yards from the saloon.

There was only one other man in the jail, locked up in the cell across from yours. An arrogant-looking lady called the sheriff through the back doors, and he left you two alone. You tried to see where your guns were kept, but could not.

- He keeps them inside that cabinet, on the top shelf. - The man said, and you turned your face toward him. - And the key to the cells is near the door.

- Steve is going to kill me. - You grumble before sitting down on the floor, your legs stretched out on the ground.

You both remain silent for several moments, until the sheriff returns. He has a lipstick stain on his shirt, and you roll your eyes.

- Wilson, great news for you. - says the sheriff walking to the cell opposite yours. The prisoner has a serious look on his face. - I finally got a carriage for Sisika, they will pick you up tomorrow morning.

Wilson ducked his head and clenched his fists, while the sheriff let out a wicked chuckle. 

- If I'm lucky, they'll take you too, cutie. - Said the sheriff looking at you, but you didn't bother to answer.

You tried not to panic at the thought of a federal penitentiary. You hated having to depend on anyone, but you really hoped that your friends would notice your absence and come to your aid.

Looking at your fellow prisoner, you avoided feeling sorry for the downcast expression he acquired, after all you didn't know what he had done to be here. Still, you sympathized with him; it wasn't easy to receive news like that.

Trying to get some idea of what to do, you closed your eyes, burying your head in your knees. But in the end, you just fell asleep.

You dreamed of long red hair, and woke in a jolt, banging your head against the small shelf that held the cell bed. Massaging the spot, you looked forward, surprised to see Wilson signaling you to be quiet.

You ran your gaze around and widened your eyes as you noticed the figure of Monica, silently stealing the key to the cell. The sheriff was too distracted by her cleavage to notice, and you really hated this man with each passing second. Monica pretended to laugh, holding the sheriff's arm, and finally grabbing the key. She asked the officer to go somewhere more private, that she would like to show him something, and when he took her to the backdoors, she handed the cell key to you through the bars.

Quickly freeing yourself, you ran to the weapons locker, looking for your holster. Duly armed, you turned toward Wilson's cell.

- I hope I don't regret this. - You grumble as you release him. He nods in thanks, shaking your hand. And then he runs to the gun cabinet and grabs what you believe to be his.

You hear a noise and both of you turn toward the back door. Through the window you can see Monica struggling with the sheriff, who seems to want to force a kiss. You feel your chest bubbling with anger and rush outside. Before you can do anything, someone shoots the sheriff, who falls to the ground.

You walk over to Monica, who assures you that she is fine, just a little out of shape from being out of a fight for so long. You hug her in thanks before you run away from the scene, she points out where the horses are, and you are surprised to notice that Wilson is still with you.

- My name is Sam. - The man says. - I have nowhere to go.

You and Monica exchange a look, and then she offers her hand to help him get on her own horse. 

- Steve will take care of this. - She says before you ride out of town. 

When you arrive, you let out an exclamation that makes Monica and Sam look at you curiously.

- I didn't get the fucking uniform. - You say, and Monica looks at you with a mischievous smile. She reaches into her own horse's saddlebag and pulls out the folded uniform set. 

- It's easier to steal when they're dead. - She comments, and you look at her with a mixture of pride and surprise. You think that she and Pietro really are made for each other, blessed sticky fingers.

As they enter, you assure the others that you were fine, and you discover that Monica just told them that you had had complications and needed some help. She tells you that she overheard two merchants leaving Valentine commenting on the shooting while she was hunting rabbits, and when she told the rest of the camp, she didn't mention that you might have been shot. 

When the others see Sam, they seem apprehensive about having a stranger in camp, but Steve asks to talk to him privately in his tent. You knew that he would invite Sam to join you as soon as he knew that he helped Monica.

You walk back to your tent, immediately wanting to take a shower. Then your exit is blocked by Wanda looking quite annoyed. You take a step back, shocked by the sudden presence.

- You are avoiding me. - she accuses, looking hurt. Honestly, you don't feel much like having this conversation right now, and considering that you almost died a few hours ago, you just want to take a shower.

- I've just been busy. - You retort, holding her gaze.

- Why are you lying?

You bite your tongue hard to avoid smiling. Wanda is ridiculously beautiful, it's so unfair that you can't get annoyed with her. Completely oblivious to your internal conflict, she has an accusing expression, but the glint in her eyes shows that she is upset, hurt that you are lying to her so blatantly.

- Look, I almost died twice today and was arrested, I would like to take a shower before embarking on another conflict.

Her expression changed to concern.

- What do you mean you almost died? - She questioned and her gaze ran over your face, and when she noticed the dried wound upon your cheek, she raised her hand quickly, her touch electrifying your whole body at the same speed that made you relax more than any hot bath. - What happened?

- I won at poker. - You joked, fighting the urge to close your eyes at her touch. Wanda frowned and lowered her hands. - It was a misunderstanding. Monica saved my ass and now I'm here. 

- You don't seem to be telling me anything anymore. - She said with a serious look on her face, and you swallowed hard, guilt clutching your stomach. And you spent too long thinking about what to say, that you miss your chance. Wanda gave you one last hurt look, before saying, "Have a nice bath," and left your tent. You kept staring for minutes at where you saw her last.

You were very angry when you returned to your room, mumbling disconnected words as you threw yourself on your bed, resisting the urge to scream into your pillow. You had the choice of getting up and apologizing, explaining to Wanda that you just felt insecure, or staying in your bed and whining, so of course you didn't get up.

Refusing to cry, you tried to look for something to do that would get the image of Wanda's hurt look out of your head. You thought about cleaning your weapons, but then you remembered that one of them was the revolver you had received as a gift, so you gave up the idea.

Running your eyes around the room, you tried to find something else, your eyes lingered on your bedside table, a picture of you, Wanda, Pietro, Monica and Nat, when you were younger, and Steve insisted that he would like to have a picture of the camp kids. You must have been about ten years old, and you were dressed in your best clothes, a bandage on your forehead covering up a fight wound.Pietro had one arm on your shoulders and one on Wanda's, he had a toothless smile on his face, his front baby teeth had fallen out shortly before that photo.  Nat and Monica were the tallest, and stood one at each end. Even though it was black and white, you remembered the blue jacket that you yourself had stolen as a present for Nat. 

You looked away from the photo quickly, letting out an impatient sigh. Even trying, you couldn't stop thinking about Wanda, the marks of her presence all over your life. You decided it was best to look for something to do outside your tent.

You noticed Doctor Stephen coming out of Bruce's tent when you left yours. He looked happy, and you felt your chest fill with hope that Bruce was better.

Walking over to Stephen, you greeted him. 

- Ah, look at you, Y/N. - He replied as he put away his medical equipment inside his own tent. - You're growing up fast.

You looked down at the ground blankly.

- I guess so. 

Stephen finished arranging his own things, and when he turned to you, he signaled for you to accompany him to the campfire area.

- You seem to want to ask me something. - He says as he sits down, pouring himself a coffee pen, which was always available at the campfire.

- I just wanted to see how Bruce was doing. 

- Much better. - he says. - Soon he will return to his duties and I will go back to Saint Denis.

You nodded, slightly disappointed that Stephen was leaving, but glad that Bruce was better. They shared the role of camp doctor, but Stephen hardly ever stayed with you, saying he had business of his own to attend to in Saint Denis. You, Wanda and Pietro were the only ones who knew that he had a family waiting for him there.

- But I feel that's not what you want to talk about. - He says after a moment, and you frown. At your expression, he lets out a giggle, and puts his mug down, turning to you with a gentle expression. - You can ask me about Wanda.

You blink, looking away. Stephen was like a mentor to Wanda, and you imagined it would be awkward, to say the least, to talk to him about it. But knowing that he had just returned from a hunt with her and Thor, he had probably noticed something in her behavior, being the observer that he is.

- I think I might have hurt her. - You say, and he nods slightly.

- I thought she looked more angry than hurt. - He says almost in a mocking tone, and you run your hands through your hair.

- Hurt or angry, I fucked up. 

- That is true.

Stephen's tone is playful, and you smile while rolling your eyes. He had always been more relaxed about this kind of subject than you are. 

- Wanda has mentioned that you are avoiding her. - he says after a moment. - She was... distracted during the hunt.

- Yeah, I was running away. - You grumble, looking down at the ground feeling embarrassed. He lets out a sigh, and reaches his hand out to your knee.

- I know how much you care about her, child. - he says. - Ever since you were little, you've been inseparable. So I don't understand your hesitation.

You let out a sad sigh, trying to smile at Stephen.

- I don't think I am what she deserves. - You confess and he frowns. You keep talking, believing that if you don't say things now, you won't say them anymore. - I just... She's so incredible. She' s so strong and so smart, and so so good. She deserves someone who can give her more than a tent on the ground or a campfire. 

Stephen raises his hand to lift your face, making you look at him.

- Do you really believe that? - He asks seriously, but his eyes are tender. He doesn't wait for you to answer. - Listen to me for a moment, will you? I won't speak for Wanda, I never could. What I can assure you is that you are an extraordinary young woman. You are brave and admirably loyal. And most important, is the way you love Wanda with vehemence and devotion. There is no one who deserves her more than you.

You nodded, feeling the tears streaming down your face. Stephen smiled, and wiped them away, moving closer to place a kiss on your forehead. 

- I don't want to hear you say things like that about yourself, okay? - He asks in a serious tone, and waits for you to agree. 

- I promise I won't. - You say, and he nudges you lightly on the nose, making you laugh before turning away, going back to drinking his coffee. He takes a sip, and you are silent for a moment, before he holds up his finger as if he has an idea, and turns to you, with an expression somewhere between humorous and serious.

- Now try to apologize to Wanda. She gets very annoyed when she is mad at you.

You laugh lightly, but then realize that he is telling you to do this now. He continues to stare at you, and you sigh before standing up. Stephen lifts his pen lightly wishing you good luck and you turn toward Wanda's tent.

But your steps are interrupted by Nat, who has a concerned expression on her face. You frown, but she just signals for you to follow her towards Steve's tent.

- We have a problem. - Steve announces as soon as you arrive, he is leaning both hands against the center table, a map stretched out in front of him. 

- What's wrong? - you ask, and then feel nervous as you notice Wanda standing at the other end of the tent next to Pietro. You look away quickly.

- The O'Driscolls are drunk idiots, that's the problem. - Steve replied, looking stressed. He apologized a second later for his harsh manner, and then he straightened his posture. - Peggy just got back from town, she found out that some O'Driscolls were killed at the oil plant, trying to steal masonry titles. One of them was drunk enough to tell them that they were planning to steal the money from the land purchase.

- Oh, shit. - You grumbled. - Any chance this won't get to Stark?

- Unfortunately it already has. - Steve replied with his arms crossed. - The mess happened two days ago. And the local guards sent a carriage to Saint Denis the same day. Peggy spoke to our contact at the bank, and Stark cancelled the deposit.

- Will he no longer buy the land? - you asked.

- Oh, he is. Only the money will be transferred by train. - Steve clarified, and then he took a pen and started to draw a route on the map on the table. - Which means that we are going to change the route completely.

- At least now we are not going to break into a bank. - Nat remarked softly to you, and you smiled at her. 

- We will have two chances to access the money. - Steve explained as he finished scratching out the map. You notice that he also circles two points. - Stark will bring the money in a carriage that will leave his estate somewhere in the Cumberland Forest, but no one knows from where exactly. Besides, he has his own personal guard, and even if we could find out where his house is, it would still be a pain in the ass to get in there. 

- I imagine that this carriage will be extremely well protected too. - Pietro commented, and Steve just nodded in agreement.

- Our first option is a bit risky, but it might work if we were fast enough. - Steve said. - When Stark negotiates the purchase, he will need to show the money to the real estate agents, and the safe will either be inside one of the carriages for the seller to confirm the amount, or the safe will be carried to one of the factory rooms for counting. 

- If we try to steal the safe from inside the factory, we will face twice as many guns. - Said Nat with crossed arms, Steve nodded in agreement.

- Exactly, Natasha. Our only advantage would be for Pietro to infiltrate as an employee and get us inside quietly.

- Not a chance! - You say, and Steve frowns. - You won't send Pietro alone. One mistake and he would have more than a hundred guns pointed at him. It's too dangerous.

Pietro stared at you in slight surprise, looking embarrassed that you had stood up to Steve for him. Wanda had a look in her eyes that you couldn't decipher.

- Yes, you're right. - Steve said after a moment. - We only have one other option left then. We'll steal the money when it's transferred to the train.

- Train? - asks Maria from the other corner of the tent. - But there are no stations in the area.

- Ah, yes. But everything works for those who have money. - Bucky said with irony. Steve smiled before explaining: 

- Stark has asked that the checkpoint in the Heartlands area be reactivated. It's near the factories, and they're going to take the safe by carriage there. - He marked on the map the location. - The train will only stop here and then go straight to Saint Denis.

- We always end up stealing a train. - You whispered to Nat, who smiled with amusement.

- We don't know how many guards will board the train, however, the number will be smaller than if we take on all the guards at the factory plus Stark's guards.

- Let's go over the final arrangement of the plan then. - Peggy announced. - We're going to need more people to stay on board, especially now that we're going to jump on a moving train. - Peggy explained with a light irony that drew laughter from everyone. She took a small notebook from her jacket, where you guessed she had organized the names and functions, before speaking again. - Steve and I ride together to the meeting point in the negotiation area, where we will be able to see Stark's carriage on its way. Thor and Bucky stand further away, each in a different direction, to signal if there is another guard formation. Meanwhile, Nat and Monica stand guard at the location where we will board the train. Y/N, Pietro and Wanda wait a little ahead, to signal when the train is coming and you find the ideal spot to jump off without being seen by the guards. We will ride to you as soon as the train leaves.

- Does anyone have any questions? - said Steve looking at everyone. You were going over the plan mentally so you didn't say anything.

- When we get on the train, who will take care of our horses? - asked Nat, leaning slightly against you.

- Actually, I suggest you split up the mounts. It will be faster to call the horses back if you have fewer. We can have them follow the train as well.  - Peggy said, and then she pointed her fingers around the gang members, as if she were counting. - Let's see, me, Bucky, Steve and Thor will be on our own horses. Nat and Monica can ride together, and so can the twins. 

- I guess that's all. - Steve announced. - Rest, and avoid alcohol tonight. We'll ride tomorrow.

You began to feel slightly anxious as soon as you left the tent. Changing plans on the eve of a strike was a very dangerous thing. Nat put an arm around your shoulders, while you walked outside.

- Ready to rob a train, old friend? - she said in a playful and ironic tone, you laughed.

- Always. - You replied in the same tone. Nat waved you goodnight before leaving towards her tent, and you were walking towards yours, but then you bit your lip and turned on your heel, heading towards Pietro and Wanda's tent.

Pietro had just come in when you arrived, and Wanda was already sitting on her bed. He smiled at you.

- Honey, have you come to wish me good luck? - He teased, throwing his arms around you. You pushed him away, making him laugh.

- I wanted to...

- Oh, I know just what you wanted. - He interrupted, pretending to be hurt as he raised a hand to his chest, dramatizing. - I am so dedicated to this friendship and you don't even come to see me or say good night!

You frown with mock amusement, watching Pietro pretend to have a crying face. He pushes you slightly to get out of the tent.

- I want a divorce, Y/N. - He announces dramatically. - You may have Wanda, but the house is mine!

You hold back a laugh as you nudge him in the chest. He just laughs and turns around, walking toward the fire.

A smile plays on Wanda's lips as you turn around, you take a deep breath before entering the tent, and then you sit down on Pietro's bed, facing the redhead. She looks down at the floor, and you let your gaze wander over her face.

It takes a moment, but Wanda finally looks into your eyes, and you hold her gaze. As you look at each other, you feel your heart race, but you don't mind.

- Hi. - You sigh breathlessly after a moment. Wanda's gaze wavers.

- Hi. - She says without smiling, her gaze falls back to the ground.

You bite the inside of your cheek, but before you can think of what to say next, Wanda speaks again, her expression serious.

- Thank you for standing up for Pietro. - You blink in confusion, but Wanda continues. - About the situation at the factory.

- No problem. - Your voice comes out a little hoarse, and you cough before you speak again. - I don't think they'd make him go by himself anyway.

- Still, thank you. - she says, and you nod. Wanda moves her hands nervously. - Do you want anything, I'm going to sleep already…

- I want to apologize. - You interrupt her, and she looks at you quickly. You look away for a second, feeling embarrassed. But knowing that apologies should be made with an eye to the eye, you take a deep breath and face her. - Wanda, I'm sorry I avoided you these days.

- You really admitted it. - She grumbled, looking surprised and hurt. You swallowed hard.

- I was afraid. - You confessed, and she looked at you with confusion. - I thought I had crossed a line with you. But I'm not afraid anymore. Well, I'm still scared, because this is new, but okay, it's a good feeling…

You started to ramble and Wanda let out a giggle, and then she lunged at you, hugging you, and shutting you up. In your shock, you fell off the bed on your knees, but you kept hugging each other.

- Please don't keep things from me. - She asked in a low tone, mumbling against your hair. You nodded in agreement, squeezing her in your arms before you pulled away. - Will you tell me why you were avoiding me? - She asked looking at you curiously, and even a little defiantly, as if checking to see if you would keep hiding things from her. You bit your lower lip, blushing, and bowed your head in agreement.

- I thought I was crossing a line with you that day in the forest. - You mumbled without looking at her. Wanda frowned, blushing slightly.

- You were going to kiss me, right? - she asked in a whisper. Your heart raced, but you nodded in agreement. Wanda looked down at the floor, a shy smile on her lips. - I would have liked that.

You felt your face heat up at the confession, but smiled, looking at Wanda. It took a moment for her to meet your gaze, her face flushed, but when she did, you felt your stomach turn with nervousness.

- Look, I hate to interrupt the couple's reconciliation, but I have a train to rob tomorrow. - Pietro's voice broke the moment completely, and you almost fell back in astonishment when you noticed Pietro standing at the entrance of the tent, with a mischievous smile. 

- Perfect timing as always. - You grumbled as you got up from the floor, reaching out to help Wanda. Pietro came into the room next, pushing you lightly as he threw himself on his own bed. You let out a grumble of dissatisfaction.

- I told you I'd keep the house. - He teased last, and you tugged on his pillow, causing him to let out an indignant exclamation, but you were quick to throw the object against his face with mock amusement.

- Good night, sweetheart. - You retorted, quickly pulling away to keep him from hitting you with the pillow. You laughed as you left the room. Wanda hurried after you and you were surprised to see her following you out. 

Outside, at the entrance to her cabin, Wanda waited until you turned toward her, and then she stepped closer to you, putting her hands on your neck, and pulling your face toward her. She met your lips in a firm but soft kiss. 

You staggered back in surprise, closing your eyes. Your whole body throbbed, but before you could respond, she pulled away. 

- Goodnight. - she whispered in a husky tone, before turning back to her own cabin.

You stood there for a few seconds, unable to process exactly what had happened, the sensation of Wanda's lips against yours tingling in your mouth. A good few minutes passed before you returned to your own tent, a foolish smile on your lips.

[7fckingidiots]

Would you be alright with writing some HCs about the brothers and a MC who's a trans guy? Sorry if it's a tall order or too vague, they're a big comfort for me and I'd like to see what ideas you have bcs your headcanons are fantastic ;w;

HELL YEAH DUDE!!!! IM ALSO TRANS!!! AH!!!!! demigirl rights :3 but i also find a huge comfort in the boys and i hc all of them as trans because no one can Stop Me •• but i really hope you enjoy these and remember you’re valid and i care u so much! Also i hope you don’t mind but i kinda made it gender neutral so every trans folk could enjoy!

The Brothers With A Trans MC

Lucifer

He didn’t know until you came out to him honestly. He knew all his other siblings were trans but with all the work Diavolo gave him and adding new students from different realms on top of that he hadn’t really had time to notice any minor changes in you.

He feels guilty about this and immediately makes sure(like everyone else)to ask for your pronouns, name, and how you would like to present yourself from now on.

Fixes your ID cards and your papers with Diavolo right after dinner

God. He’s such a dad and he gets you things that have your new name on them. You wake up to see you have a new pencil case with your name embroidered on it with matching pencils. God.....he’s so weird i love him so much

Asmo does most of your clothing shopping but for formal wear he takes you shopping! He’s not about to buy you some cheap tux or gown ok it’s gonna be over 2000 grim and he’s gonna get you three of them STOP HIM

He’s not the best with verbal affection so he writes down notes that are like “you looked very handsome/pretty today.” or when he first starts writing them they’re like “you’re a boy/girl/kid. i’m proud of you.” Thank u mr morningstar

You want surgery or to start hormones??? He will stop all his work with Diavolo and spend forever looking up things for you, he wants you to be as safe as possible(pls he almost fainted after he realized you’d have to give yourself a shot like everyday dhdhdhjdhd hc that demons/angels don’t have to do hormone therapy i’m so JEALOUS)

Practices saying your pronouns in his study when you first come out. He just wants to make sure you feel as safe as possible in his care(and he remembers how terrible it felt to be misgendered)

Guess what....he loves you no matter what :)

Mammon

You’re blind as hell if you couldn’t see his top scars but I respect it

King DOES slip up on your pronoun change but always immediately corrects himself. Satan has a spray bottle that he sprays Mammon with when he does it. Mammon is NOT amused but the same can’t be said for Belphie.

Gender affirming activities??? Oh yeah like robbing a bank?? That’s pretty gender neutral and trans right?? Yeah!!! Wow such a good supportive brother.

If you want you can wear the formal wear Lucifer bought you to the said bank heist. Boom trans rights

You can practice painting his nails or doing his makeup if you’re too nervous to do it on yourself first!! Dw if it’s bad he also can’t do makeup or paint nails so once you let him return the favor you’re both laughing and Asmo is distraught.

KING at dying hair he will get you whatever you need and if you want an entire different hair cut entirely he’s ON it

Very used to being Loud and Brash but if you need someone to talk to about anything really he always calms down and sits down to listen to whatever you have to say.

Lots of gendered gifts from him. This said for men??? Oh ok adds to cart. Oh pink??? For ladies??? yeah that can go in there too

You’re never gonna believe this.....But he loves you and supports you :)

Levi

He was the first one to come out to you at the house!! He was just so excited! Same hat!!!

Gets literally any video game where you can design the protag/have custom pronouns and will play games like that with you for hours

Would you like a pride flag.....for u.....He has too many.....Please take the trans flag please he has no room....he bought in bulk for a pride event and didn’t consider the consequences of his actions

Miku binder but irl. He will get if for you but unironically.....thanks King. He just likes binders with patterns and i respect IT

Dysphoria?? He gives you his hoodie bc that was his trademark dysphoria hoodie and i GUESS for you he can share............he would give u anything just ask nicely he’s sensitive

Reads any character that matches up with your gender and is like!!!!! That’s you!!!! OMG!!!! You in da IRL

Goes back and edits his tweets if they use your old name or pronouns(also has he/they in his bio. this is for nothing just makes me :D)

If you haven’t chosen your name he’s gonna suggest so many fictional characters. POV levi kin assigns you.

You listen to music together that just has Trans Vibes.....maybe u cry together but there’s no judgment!! It’s just nice :)

God it’s wild but! He loves u and thinks ur great :)

Satan

Enby Satan. That’s all :)

He’s very quite about it, he supports you! He’s just not loud like his brothers

He brings you book about gender studies and LGBTQ history that he thinks would interest you(there some of his favorite books and they’ve made him feel the most comfortable in his gender)

Gives you a name list if you haven’t named yourself yet! He cares about you and wants to make sure you have the right name that suits you

He’s the one that tells you that it’s ok if you’re still figuring it all out, learning about yourself is a very tricky process and if anyone knows that it’s Satan

Any of the brothers would kill anyone who misgendered you but with Satan that shit is ON SIGHT

Asks you how you know and what were the signs that gave it away to you, but only if you’re comfortable telling him!! He just finds everyone’s experience interesting and would like to know yours as well.

Spells for fucking DAYS Satan personally kills body dysphoria the best he can(mainly bc he’s HIGHKEY afraid of you getting surgery he hates knives so much)

Makes your comfort food for you when you’re feeling down about yourself and will read whatever you want to hear outloud to you.

!!!!!! GET THIS !!!!!! He loves YOU :0

Asmo

Fucking excited!!!! This means you two are going to buy so much clothing together and he gets to style you let’s GO

Buys you whatever you want but he will make you try it all on so be CAREFUL what u wish for.....ur gonna be there till the store closes yeah......

Paints your nails with the trans pride flag!! Also does your makeup and gives you tips on how to look more masculine or fem!!

VOICE LESSONS

He will help you lower or raise the pitch of your voice if it KILLS him. It eventually becomes like a mini class after school

Helps with internalized transphobia! Hes dealt with his fair share and knows how awful it can be and he will NOT being having you experience that as well we r practicing Self Care now

Picks apart any one who misgenders you until they’re crying he has NO fucking time for that behavior in this HOUSE

Sometimes self care is eating whatever you want and sitting in the dysphoria hoodies while watching chick flicks with Asmo

He likes dressing you up but he’s always sure to set boundaries so he never puts you into something that makes you feel uncomfortable

ALSO edits his posts and takes down anything that makes you uncomfortable!!

He loves you so much!!!!

Beel

another one to hand you The Dysphoria Hoodie and it’s very large and comfy!

he’ll help you make out a work out routine that will help you get the body you want and it makes him really happy to work out with you :)

he’s gonna hold your hand if you have to take shots and will give you puppy eyes if you don’t let him. He’s just worried!!!! He wants to help

stands behind you whenever you’re nervous about coming out to someone, he will NOT have someone making you feel bad or misgendering you

he’ll see food with trans pride colors and gives it too you, probably doesn’t even know what it is half the time but it made him think of you so he makes sure to get it for you

he doesn’t trip up on any of your new pronouns or name and makes it seem like he never even knew them. dead name???? what’s that??? a type of sauce?????

will let you vent to him whenever needed and will always make you a sundae after you’ve finished. it’s comically huge but it’s tasty and does make you feel a lot better, thanks beel

makes sure you remember to take off your binder if you’ve been wearing it for more than eight hours! and if you’ve been wearing heels to feel more fem he reminds you to take those off too and has a pair of slippers for you in his room that you can wear instead

hey! get this! He loves you so, so much :D

Belphie

you’re trans? ok kid join the club. he doesn’t make a big deal at all

are you still gonna cuddle with him and join him in his quest to make lucifer’s life difficult? yeah? ok then cool what’s ur name 

if he hears someone misgender you he waits till you’ve left the room and just kills whoever did it, dude’s unhinged what did you expect from him honestly

he’s actually really curious about any hormone therapy you’re on and likes listening to you rant about it to him. he likes seeing your face light up and it partly reminds him of lilith

calls your hormones something stupid like “oh dude, your gamer girl juice arrived.” or “hey your little man potion is here.” ...thanks belphie

will NOT let you sleep in a binder or push up bra!!! not healthy!! let ur chest breath guys 

like mammon, he gets you gendered gifts but they’re so fucking weird? you didn’t need a girls version of a collectable hot wheels set???? he got you blue lightning mcqueen sheets?????? those EXIST here????!!!!! when does he even shop......

introduces you to new people like “this is our resident boy/girl/human. they don’t do much but i think they’re cool.”

he really does care about you but he remembers when he came out he just didnt want people to make a big deal about it so he’s just doing what would have made him feel the most comfortable, but you can still see how much love he has for you when you look into his eyes

he loves you, so, so much :)

[imaginedisish]

Devil’s Advocate (Tenet) Neil x Reader

Chapter 3: North American Scum

A/N: Hi guys! Here is chapter 3!!! I feel like it could have been better, but I really started feeling it at the end (and I think you can tell) Enjoy ahhh!! (and yes, the title of this is one big LCD Sound System Reference :))

Summary: You and Neil are sent on your first mission, but things get incredibly messy, as they always do. 

Warnings: Guns, gun wounds, death, cursing, angst, and that’s about it!

Word Count: 5,765... If anyone wants to teach ya girl how to do the “read more” thing that would be fantastic...

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2

Sunlight pours through the small crack in the curtains. Your stomach is pressed up against the mattress. You shift around underneath the sheets, but an arm is wrapped around your body, keeping you in place. You inhale deeply, and the smell of his cologne fills your lungs.

Neil. You keep your eyes shut, reveling in his touch. He rustles a bit, and you feel yourself being pulled in closer to his chest. You maneuver onto your side, allowing him to bring your chest up against his. 

His lips brush against your left ear. 

He has to be awake, You think to yourself. A light kiss presses softly against your ear, and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks. There is absolutely no way he’s still asleep. 

“(Y/N)?” Neil whispers, as if to ask if you were still next to him. 

Your eyes flutter open. “Good morning,” You mutter. Your voice is hoarse from a full night of sleep, the first full night of sleep you had gotten in what felt like ages. 

The light catches Neil’s blue eyes, causing them to sparkle and glow in the rays of sun. His blonde hair was a ruffled mess. Still, he’s undeniably attractive. It didn’t matter how unkempt he appeared to be, there was still something about him; something about him that made your heart pound out of your chest, something about him that made it impossible and yet easier to breathe all at the same time. His presences was overwhelming and yet so calming. 

He clears his throat. “Did you sleep well?” He asks, his arms still pulling you tightly against his chest. 

Besides all the other times we’ve shared a bed, You think to yourself before saying, “That was probably the best sleep I’ve gotten in years.” 

You remember that just yesterday he had said you two were “friends.” 

But friends don’t do these kinds of things. 

Neil smiles back at you, his nose less than a centimeter away from yours. “I’m glad,” He responds. You can feel his breath on your lips. 

The last thing you want to do is get up. You silently hope that Neil won’t move. Eventually, the time would come to do the very thing you came here to do, unfortunately. But for now, you wanted to enjoy laying in bed with Neil, regardless of what it meant for him. 

You watch as Neil sighs and furrows his brows. There’s something on his mind, and it’s very clearly bothering him. You always hated seeing him like this, and you couldn’t let it go unnoticed. 

“Neil?” You ask. “Are you alright?”

He smiles sheepishly. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Neil reassures, but you know there’s something wrong.

“If there’s something on your mind, you can always talk to me,” You say, bringing your left hand to rest on the side of his upper thigh. 

You’re shocked to feel his exposed skin and not his boxers. They had scrunched up into his crotch. 

You retract your hand immediately, feeling as though you had overstepped some unspoken boundary. “I-I’m sorry about that.” Your voice is distraught and shaky in the wake of your embarrassment.

“No,” Neil says. His voice is calm and a smile reappears on his face. “It felt nice.” You nod, allowing your hand to travel back to where it was. 

You decide to start over and try again. “But really Neil, you can always talk to me, about anything,” You pause, choosing to go the confrontational route. “I know something is wrong with you. I can just tell.”

Neil’s arm tightens around you. You didn’t think it could be possible to get closer to him, and yet suddenly you were. “Well, last night…” Neil trails off. You can feel his heart beat grow louder in his chest. “I was going to talk to you about something.”

“Well, what is it?” You ask. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the moment Neil would tell you how he felt about you. 

Neil inhales sharply through his nose. “(Y/N), it’s just that-,”

The sound of Neil’s phone roughly vibrating against the bedside table next to him cuts him off. He lets go of you and turns over to pick up the phone. You stuff your face into your pillow in absolute agony. 

Another moment stolen, You think. 

“Shit,” He mutters under his breath. “Hello?” He answers the call. “Already?” There’s a pause. “What do you mean it’s half past twelve?” Another pause. “I’m sorry we must’ve slept through the alarm I-,” Whoever is on the other line interrupts him immediately. “Alright, thanks. We’ll start getting ready now.”

You lift your face off of the pillow. Neil hangs up and puts the phone back onto the nightstand. 

“It’s time already?” You ask. You feel your anxiety growing in the pit of your stomach. You know what’s coming next. You can feel it on the tip of your tongue. You can feel the uncertainty. You can already hear the gunshots, the screams, the cries for help. 

Neil turns back over towards you, his arm wrapping tightly around your body yet again. “Yeah, it’s time,” He says, pressing a kiss against your forehead. His lips are warm and soft, reassuring even. But you didn’t want to go, not yet. Being with Neil was too good. For the first time in a long time, you were finally feeling normal. You had finally felt safe. And now, as you always did, you were going to risk it all.

I can’t do this, You think to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Neil,” You feel yourself tremble a bit, “I-I can’t d-do this,” You stutter, tripping over your words at the mere thought of getting out of bed. 

“I’m so sorry, love,” Neil says, pulling you closer to him. “But I don’t think we have a choice.”

A choice? You hated the idea that anyone had a lack of “choice,” especially when it came to the organization. You hated the idea that nothing could be changed or altered to make something better. What’s happened, happened. And yet, you believed none of that. 

Of course I have a choice. I’m an autonomous woman with agency and independence. You think to yourself. “And what the fuck is stopping me from saying no, Neil?” Your sudden fury causes him to jump back a bit. His grip on you loosens. 

Neil’s shocked expression takes you aback. “I didn’t mean to make you-,”

You cut him off, feeling guilty for jumping down his throat so abruptly. “No, it’s not your fault Neil. It’s me,” You roll onto your back and Neil’s arms slide off of you. “This is so overwhelming. I’m a mess.” 

Neil shifts closer to you. He’s laying on his side. He brings his hand across your body and onto your shoulder, drawing light circles with his index finger. You sigh, his touch leaving goosebumps on your exposed skin. “It’s going to be okay, I promise,” He says. He lets you sit in silence for a few minutes. He somehow knows it's exactly what you need. 

He always does. 

You look over to the alarm clock on your bedside table. 

12:34

“We should probably get up now,” You say apprehensively. 

Neil nods, lifting his hand from your shoulder. He presses a kiss against your cheek before hopping off the bed. “Just for good measure,” He says with a wink. 

Neil had been stealing kisses from you far more recently than he had in the past, and you certainly recognized it. You weren’t complaining, but it was confusing. You weren’t sure what he wanted. You knew there was at least a slight chance that Neil saw you as more than a friend. That was a natural occurrence of life. After all, you had fallen for him. 

Who’s to say he couldn’t fall for you too. You immediately shake the thought off. Thinking like this could ruin the mission. You were too distracted for your own good. Now was not the time to be wondering how Neil felt about you, regardless of how puzzling the situation was. 

Neil had shuffled off into the bathroom. You could hear the shower turn on and the glass door of the shower close behind Neil. You stifle any further thoughts in the back of your head, and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You walk over to your duffle bag and begin to rummage through your clothes. You were always incredibly indecisive when it came to what to wear. 

After a few minutes, you finally decide on a pair of baggy, black menswear dress pants, similar to the ones you were still wearing. You grab an oversized white t-shirt to go with it. You pull your black high top converse out of the bag as well, letting them fall to the floor. 

The door to the bathroom opens, and Neil comes out with just a fuzzy white towel wrapped around his waist. You stare too far down for far too long, and Neil is quick to notice. 

“If you’re going to look at me like that, you should really buy me dinner first,” He jokes. He walks over to you and stops when he reaches his suitcase. 

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks and you smirk a bit. “I-I just didn’t expect you to be-,”

“To be what? Practically naked?”

“Well, yes, to be honest,” You say, your smirk turning into a wide smile. Neil smiles back, and nudges you playfully with his elbow. You shut your eyes and shake your head. “I’m getting in the shower now.”

Neil chuckles as you walk away. “Can I have the same show you got? It’s only fair!” 

How you wished he wasn’t just kidding around with you. 

You step into the bathroom and shut the door behind you. 

The shower is incredibly refreshing. The hot water almost puts you to sleep again, but it’s a welcomed feeling. Things seemed peaceful. But there’s always a calm before the storm. 

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. 

“(Y/N)?” Neil calls. 

His voice catches you off guard. You almost slip on the water below. “Yeah?” You call back, catching yourself and regaining your balance. 

“I think I left my boxers in there,” He says. Your face reddens as you predict his next words. “Is it alright if I pop in and grab them? I won’t peak, I promise!” You hear his muffled chuckle through the door. 

You swallow hard. “Yeah, sure I don’t mind,” You say back. Your heart races in your chest. The glass of the shower door was completely fogged up, and Neil wouldn’t see a thing, or at least he probably wouldn’t. But part of you of wanted him to…

Your thoughts are interrupted as the door creeks open, and Neil enters the bathroom. There’s some shuffling around and you can hear Neil moving some things. 

“Where the bloody hell did they go?” Neil whispers to himself. A giggle escapes your lips. “What’s so funny about this, love?” Neil’s sarcastic tone only makes you laugh more. 

“I mean where could they have possibly-,” You say, cutting yourself off as you look up to see Neil’s boxers hanging over the top of the shower. “How did they even end up there?”

Neil chuckles now too. “I must’ve put them up there with my pants. I didn’t think I’d have time to iron my clothes, so I just threw everything over the top to get some steam on it,” He explains between laughs. Of course he was worried about how wrinkly his clothes would be, You think to yourself, letting another giggle out. 

The shape of Neil’s body becomes more prominent as he walks over towards the shower. You feel yourself growing nervous upon the realization that Neil can most likely see a better outline of what you look like too. His hand grabs the boxers and he yanks them down. 

“I promised no peaking, so I’ll get out of your hair now,” Neil laughs and you watch as he walks over to the door. You almost wanted to tell him to stay. 

Almost. 

Before you can say a word, Neil opens the door and steps back out. Flustered beyond belief, you force yourself to finish the shower. 

You brush your teeth and put your stringy, wet hair in a clip to at least make it look presentable. You grab your clothes and slip them on, tucking your t-shirt into your pants and lacing a black, square buckle belt through your belt loops. 

You take a look at yourself in the mirror and you can’t help but feel at least a tiny bit proud of what you were able to accomplish in such a short time, that is, until you open the door. 

Neil is standing on the other side of the room, his left arm holding his weight up as he leans against the window, looking down at the city streets below. His grey suit jacket hangs below his hips and fits him perfectly. His white dress shirt is crisp, and a little green scarf serves as his neck tie. His pants are the exact same color as the suit jacket, and at the bottom are a pair of black dress shoes. He didn’t bother to gel his hair back, but it looked better when he let it be a little messy. When he gelled it he looked too uptight, too posh, too much like a tory. 

You still remember the day Neil had taught you that word. You didn’t have a clue about British politics, and despite Neil’s well-off appearance, he was always adamant about not being a tory. 

“But you’re as posh as anything Neil,” You said, breathing absurdly hard in between laughs. 

Neil shakes his head erratically. “I’m posh in a cool, secret agent way!” He exclaims in his defense. “I’m not a tory, come on! I shouldn’t have ever taught you that word. You’re just going to hang it over my head forever.” He sighs dramatically, shoving his head in his hands for extra effect. 

You rest your hand on his shoulder, reassuring him sardonically. “Oh Neil, fine. You’re not a tory.” 

The rest of the flashback, the playful banter and the stolen, sneaky touches are quickly shut down by the buzzing of Neil’s phone. He breaks his stare from the streets below and picks it up, carefully reading the message he just received. 

“It’s time, they gave us the location,” He says, still looking down at the message. You freeze instantly, as if you’ve become paralyzed. “(Y/N)?” Neil calls, walking over to you. He places his hands on your shoulders. 

“I just,” You trail off, searching for the right words. “I just thought I’d have more time to prepare, I guess.” 

Neil loosens his hold on your shoulders and wraps his arms all the way around you, pulling you tightly into his chest. “I know love, I know,” He whispers. You take a deep breath. 

Maybe I could do this, You force yourself to think. I have to. 

You untangle yourself from Neil and walk over to the chair to put your converse on. Neil studies you from afar, seemingly watching your every move. You don’t feel uncomfortable at all. You know he’s watching you to make sure you’re okay. Normally you wouldn’t want Neil to worry about you so much, but now his worry was welcomed. It made you feel safe. It made you feel validated. He truly wanted nothing but the best for you, and he made that abundantly clear. 

You finish tying your shoes and stand up, lightly brushing away the creases in your pants. You grab your long, tweed, dark grey trench coat and throw it over your shoulders. You grab the pistol at the bottom of your suit case, and slip it into the inside pocket on the right side of the coat.

“I’m ready,” You say, looking over at Neil. 

Neil nods, and walks back over to you. “Are you sure?”

You nod back. “No, but that’s okay.”

————

You and Neil make it down to the parking garage, but the Porsche is nowhere to be seen. Neil pulls out a set of keys from his pocket and presses a button. 

“Can’t repeat the same ride twice,” Neil jokes as the lights of a black BMW flash in your face, just as the Porsche had done last night. You let a small smile break your furrowed brows and tightened face as you get into the car. Neil puts the keys into the ignition and drives off. 

Neil explains the mission to you on the way there. The plan was to continue posing as Ophelia and Atlas Ryan, two newlyweds traveling the world together. 

“But you’re from London,” You retort, posing a potential problem about the cover. 

“You’re not,” Neil grins back at you. “Besides, who says I can’t show you around a bit?” 

You grin back at him, finally accepting the plan. 

“So we’ll be pretending to shop in this clothing store,” Neil starts, but you quickly interrupt him, knowing exactly what’s coming next.

“What’s it a front for?” Anxiety sits in your stomach like a rock. You couldn’t help but blurt out the question. 

Neil swallows harshly. “There’s a Turnstile in the back,” He says, keeping his eyes on the road. “And some inverted weapons, although some may be an understatement.”

Of course there’s a fucking Turnstile, You think to yourself.  You grip the handle on the side of the door as the GPS shouts directions. 

Suddenly, the bombs in Neil’s suitcase all make sense now. 

“And we have to stick a bomb…” You trail off, flabbergasted by the danger of the mission. 

“We have to stick a bomb somewhere inside the store, and detonate it the second we leave,” Neil finishes your thought. 

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down, but it doesn’t work very well. You look back to the GPS on the screen, searching for your ETA. 

1:35PM. 

That’s when you look down at your phone and realize that it’s already that time. Neil slides into an open parking spot a few doors down from the store. 

He looks over at you once last time. 

“Are you sure you can do this? Because maybe I could find a way to do this by mys-,”

“No,” You state firmly, refusing to let Neil finish. “We’re in this together.” You put a hand on his thigh and look longingly into his eyes. “I’d never leave you, Neil.” Your eyes flicker down to his lips. 

Neil smiles, and you can feel your heart burst in your chest. He grabs you and pulls you against him in a tight embrace. It wasn’t exactly what you were aiming for, but it most definitely wasn’t a miss. He lets go and you nod at each other subtly. 

It was time. 

Neil opens his door and hops out. You go to open your door, but Neil quickly walks over to your side, opening it for you. He grins, knowing that you aren’t allowed to complain. You were married now, after all. Neil grabs your hand, and helps you out of the car. 

You walk along the street past a few cars before finally finding an opening to get onto the sidewalk. You and Neil stop in front of the boutique.

Through the Looking Glass

A far too perfect name, You think to yourself.

Neil’s hand is still holding yours. He squeezes tightly, and you squeeze back. 

Neil takes the first step and opens the door. A bell rings. The white walls of the store are decorated with fairy lights and some posters. 

“Good afternoon! Welcome in,” A tall, black haired woman says cheerfully from the behind the register. “Is there anything I could help you find today?"

Shit, You think to yourself. Her questions were simple. They were completely normal questions, and yet you were frozen again. 

“We’re just taking a look around. It’s only my wife’s second time here in London,” Neil starts, developing a story, a reason to be here. “She came to meet my parents a few years ago, but she never really got the London experience, you know?”

The woman nods from behind the counter. “That’s wonderful!” She says ecstatically. You were amazed at Neil’s ability to keep his cool. You could tell he had her convinced. It was like a superpower or something. “Well, if you need anything at all, let me know!” 

“Thank you so much,” You say, finally having the courage to participate in the conversation. 

You and Neil begin to shift through racks, picking a top or skirt out every few pieces or so. You carried a few fake conversations: where to eat dinner, where to go next, what landmark to see first. Neil casually slips the bomb in your pocket in the midst of discussion.

Finally, after collecting a few pieces, you and Neil head back over to the woman behind the register. 

“Do you think I could try these on in the fitting room?” You ask politely, a smile spreading across your face. 

The woman smiles back. “Of course, right this way!” She leads you and Neil over to the back of the store and into a smaller room. There’s a row of doors connected to cubicles on the right side, and a set of pink tufted armchairs along the left. There’s a few doors along the wall ahead, and that’s where you assume the turnstile and weapons are kept. She unlocks one of the rooms, and guides you inside. “Thank you so much,” You say pleasantly, trying to keep your cool despite how terribly you want to start trembling. You head into the room and shut the door behind you. 

There’s a long mirror in front of you, and a small, tufted white armchair in the corner. The bomb would fit best behind the armchair, and could go relatively unnoticed. You decide that you should actually give some semblance of a fashion show before placing the bomb. Otherwise, you might blow your cover. 

You carefully place your coat on the armchair, making sure that your gun isn’t exposed. You grab your first outfit, a navy blue turtleneck sweater and a plaid skirt. You slip into the clothes and open the door. 

Neil’s gaze immediately settles on your exposed legs. “Wow,” He mumbles, looking you up and down. 

You smile widely and blush. “Oh stop it,” You playfully say back, forgetting all about the mission for a split second. 

“You look fantastic, really, (Y/N).” At first, you want to revel in his comment, but your eyes widen, quickly realizing what Neil had just done. 

“Atlas, I don’t think that’s my name,” You whisper, hoping the women behind the counter hadn’t heard Neil call you by your name instead of Ophelia. 

Neil gulps, and a slight smile appears on his face. “Ophelia darling,” He says louder this time, “You look incredible.”

You try to keep the show going, and you smile back. “Well then I guess I’ll just have to get this outfit, won’t I?” You say back, glancing over at the woman behind the counter. Her eyes were locked on yours, and she quickly breaks her stare. She grabs the phone on the counter and dials a number.

“Atlas,” You whisper, getting closer to Neil. “I think we’re a bit fucked.” 

Neil turns around quietly, and watches the woman on the phone. She looks like she knows what she’s doing. 

She looks like she knows who you are. 

“What should we do?” You ask, whispering even softer now. 

Neil remains in the chair, and turns back to face you. “Put on the next outfit. I’ll keep an eye out.” You nod, and head back into the room. 

You take off the skirt, and grab the light beige menswear dress pants off their hanger. You put them on, one leg at a time, trying to listen to what was going on outside the room. You slip the navy sweater off and grab a turtleneck in a darker shade of beige to put on. 

You step outside, and luckily, Neil is sitting exactly where he was sitting before. 

“I like that one a lot too,” He says, looking you up and down just as he did before. “I meant what I said before, you really do look fan-,”

Neil is cut off by the opening of one of the doors. A tall, brown haired man steps out of the door and walks over to the woman by the counter. You keep your smile on your face in an attempt to salvage whatever is left of the mission. Neil does the same. 

“You know, we should probably get going now if we want to make it to our lunch reservations,” You say as the idea pops into your head. This was your way out. 

Neil grins at your cleverness. “Oh wow, I can’t believe it’s time already. Still feels like the day just started!” 

“Time flies when you’re having fun, my love,” You say as you head back into the room. 

You’re overdoing it, dumbass! You mentally yell at yourself. You knew your cover was blown. You take the clothes off, and go to put yours back on. In all your shuffling and panic, you forget one crucial thing. 

The bomb is in the pocket of your pants. 

The second you take your pants off the armchair, the bomb falls out and crashes to the floor. It slides under the door all the way to Neil’s feet. 

“Shit,” You hear Neil curse. 

BANG!

A gunshot rings out in the store. 

You grab your gun from the pocket of your trench coat, force your pants on and run out of the room. 

The man is collapsed on the floor and Neil’s gun is aimed at the woman. You cock your gun and aim as well. 

“I should’ve fucking known from the start,” The woman says, shaking her head. “North American scum, you’re all the same. Slimey little-,”

“Shut the fuck up!” You shout. “You’re going to call whoever you just called, and tell them that you don’t need any further assistance, do you understand?”

She cackles. “No. Why the bloody hell would I do that? There’s at least twenty men on their way down here.” Before you can respond, she reaches for something behind the counter. 

BANG!

You feel a wetness in your right shoulder. It’s an odd, numbing sort of feeling. Everything appears to be fuzzy for a split second. You can’t hear properly, you can’t see properly, it’s like static on a television set. 

BANG!

Everything begins to come back as Neil rushes over to you. He crouches down. You hadn’t even realize that you had fallen over. You look down to your right shoulder, and notice the blood pooling underneath your shirt. You take a deep breath, knowing that this wasn’t the end. You had to push through the mission.

“(Y/N)?” There’s nothing but panic in his eyes. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” You say, standing up. Neil grabs your arm, helping you. “I mean it, I’m okay. I can do this.” 

Another man bursts into the store through one of the back doors. He brandishes a gun. You hold your pistol up and shoot. 

BANG! 

You hit him in the center of his chest, but the knock back causes you to fall to the ground. “Sh-shit,” You mumble. The pain is too intense for you to say more than that. You take a few deep breaths, trying hard to put yourself back together. 

Another man enters the room, and he grabs the bomb off the floor. 

“We need to go, I can’t have you here like this,” Neil says. He kneels down next to you and scoops you up in his arms. He frees his right hand ever so slightly, aims his gun at the man, shoots, and misses. 

Then, the man aims his gun towards you and Neil. 

There’s another bang, followed by the sound of shattering glass echoing in the store and down the street. 

“N-no, we can’t go. I’ll just shoot with my left hand, I can do it.” But before you could protest any more, Neil had already ran out of the boutique and towards the car. He secures you in the BMW, only for you to unbuckle and attempt to get out. 

But it’s too late. Neil slides in, turns the ignition, and presses down on the gas. 

“No!” You scream. You turn around and watch the boutique disappear behind you. “Neil! What the fuck?” You look over to him. His eyes are locked on the road. 

“What? You wanted to stay back there and die?” He asks, anger growing in his voice. 

“If it meant the mission succeeded and you got to live, then yes, I would have happily died,” You say, turning behind to see if anyone was on your tail. 

Sure enough, three black SUVs were following close behind. Neil looks into the rearview mirror. 

“Shit,” He curses, pressing his foot down onto the gas pedal as hard as he possibly can. He weaves through traffic, turning down a few streets rather erratically before finally hitting the highway. 

“We need to get to the safe house,” Neil explains. “TP said he had the directions to one programmed in the car before we got it. It should be the only directions in the system.” 

You nod, reaching over to the screen and selecting the navigation app. There’s one pre-programmed destination. You click the destination, and the directions load in immediately. 

“I’m going to get them off our ass, okay?” You say, opening your window and grabbing your gun. 

Neil frantically looks over to you, and then back at the road. “What? No! Get the fuck back inside!” He commands, but you ignore him and unbuckle. You carefully slide out the window and sit down on the thin edge. 

You aim your gun at the windshield of the closest SUV and fire. The windshield barely dents. It’s bulletproof. 

“Get inside!” Neil shouts again, shifting lanes quickly and strategically. 

You ignore him again, and aim towards the SUV’s forward right tire. You shoot, and the tire deflates immediately. The car looses control and crashes into the center divider.

“Fuck yeah!” The exhilaration is like a high. You forgot what it felt like to be back in the field and actually doing well at your job.

The other SUVs are close behind, and you aim once again, this time of the back left wheel of one of the vehicles. You pull the trigger, sending the car off into the grass, crashing against a tree on the side of the road. 

“Be careful, alright?” Neil shouts his reminder, hoping that it will have some effect on you. 

There’s one SUV left. Just as you take aim, a man lets himself out of the passenger window and sits in the same position as you. You take a deep breath, and switch your aim to the man instead of the tire. 

“Hey fuckass!” You scream, diverting his attention from the wheels of the BMW to you. “Over here!” You shout. 

“(Y/N)!” Neil shouts angrily. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

BANG!

“(Y/N)!” Neil screams, making sure that you’re still right next to him. 

You take a deep breath. “I-I’m fine. He missed,” You say, but you’re not entirely sure that he did. The burning pain on the right side of your stomach tells you otherwise. 

The man goes to aim towards you again, but before he can shoot, you pull the trigger, hitting him directly in the head. He topples out of the car, giving you the space to shoot the back wheels of the car. The SUV spins out into a nearby street light. 

You slump back into the car, and close the window. Neil takes a quick glance into the rearview mirror to make sure no new SUVs appeared,

“Are they gone?” You ask, silently hoping that Neil would say yes. 

“Yeah, for now,” Neil says, shifting his focus over to you. “Holy fuck, (Y/N), you said he missed!” Neil exclaims. “This is exactly why I fucking took you back to the car in the first place.”

You shake your head. “I didn’t ask you to do that. That was your choice. I make my own choices,” You pause, trying to catch your breath. “I’m an adult, you know. I’m not some kid for you to babysit.” 

You look down at your side, and notice that you’re bleeding out onto the seat. “Oh sh-shit.”

Neil’s gaze focuses off the road and onto your wound for a quick second. “Jesus Christ what the fuck happened, (Y/N)? What did you do?” 

“I saved the mission, what did you do?” You say, frustration heavy in your voice. “I didn’t ask for you to save me. If we just stayed in the boutique another second we could’ve blown the whole place up and-,” 

But you can’t finish. An immense stabbing pain pulses strongly at your side. Your eyes begin to well up. There’s so much pain that you can’t even scream. 

Neil is too focused on the road again to notice what’s happening with you. “Don’t blame this on me! What did you expect me to do? Leave you there? Fuck no,” Neil doesn’t realize that you’re dipping in and out of consciousness. “You don’t understand how much I care about you. You don’t understand what my life would be like if you died. It would be hell (Y/N), absolute hell.” 

Neil stops his rant and looks over to you. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Neil’s voice is filled with worry. “Say something (Y/N), or at least try to stay awake.”

You’ve already lost so much blood. It was too hard to concentrate on what Neil was saying, you were too concerned with simply keeping your eyes open.

“N-Neil, a-am I going to make it?” You whimper earnestly. In truth, you were thankful for what Neil had done, you had just been beyond angry that your first mission back was a failure. 

Neil nods, and places a hand on your thigh. “You’re not going anywhere, I promise. I’ve got you,” Neil says. He pushes the gas pedal into the floor. “Just stay awake for me, please.”

But you can’t. Your eyes shut, and suddenly the world goes dark. 

>>>>Chapter 4

tags: 

@kmcedric11​ @annasdani​ @mellifluous-cosmos​

[bearseokie]

boyfriend! oneus

[ gender-neutral! ]

oneus m.list | navi. | nsfw! bf! oneus (M)

Ravn:

selfie game, strong! between his insane visuals and like-minded camera angles, you're never let down by his pretty selfies that he sends you throughout the day. mainly paired with his chin to his chest while he's pouting and a silly caption.

if you think his selfies are good, the way he takes couple pictures? chef's kiss. you're never low on pics to post to social media or to put on your fridge. even the embarrassing ones, but he'll whine about those later.

matching onesies or couple pajamas.

walks up to you just to rest his chin on your head or shoulder and breathe you in.

holds your hand in the way that his entire hand envelops the width of your fingers while you hold on to his thumb.

asks for you to buy him flowers more than he gets them for you. you can't help but want to see his eyes sparkle at the sight of a dozen roses, though.

is probably biting his lip unwillingly but also on purpose. it's a habit you learn to enjoy. he does it when he's focused too, so you always know if he's paying attention or not. as confident as he is, he blushes when you call him out for it.

wraps his arms all the way around your torso and picks you up in a hug just because he can.

will see something out of the corner of his eye and make a whole circle to turn towards it. usually it's a gift of a random item he thinks you'll adore, and you always do. you'll gain a little collection of things you never imagined you'd own being with him.

genuinely not used to physical contact and tends to be rougher than he means to be. he's a temperate boy that has a habit of patting your head or kissing you a little too hard because he's in love and is still learning.

talks your ears off when you're alone. if you don't pull his beanie over his face, he won't shut up.

comes across as intimidating, but is literally the most considerate person. like he will physically reel you backwards just to gently push away an eyelash from your cheek and kiss your lips.

big pant, big shirt. aka his and your big pant and big shirt. sharing is caring. he gets butterflies in his stomach watching your hand caress over the clothes hanging in his closet as you search for something to wear.

unintentional - but completely intentional - lip locking. like he'll bend over to reach across your form laying on the bed when you’re distracted and he’ll be right in your face. before you know it, you're sitting up and your lips are colliding. especially loves doing this in public because your warm face is his rapid beating heart.

will admit to others how much he loves you but will be so stubborn behind closed doors. says things like "are you sure we're talking about the same person? me, wait— me? I'm in love with you? no— no, you're right. I'm guilty."

pouty boy with big, pleading eyes all the time.

runs his fingertips over the lines of your hands. you catch him mimicking them on his own and smiling like an idiot when they match.

take his flannels. do it.

late nights where he bursts through your door while you're sleeping and shakes you awake to run a few lyrics by you. always second guesses himself, but when he sees that you're actually taken back by the words, he gets all smiley bolts back to work.

snuggles into your pillow until you lay down with him, then you're his true cuddle buddy.

Seoho:

dramatically pulls his coats off to put over your shoulders. his constant body heat can warm you up immediately.

takes you on movie dates just to sit in the very back and have heavy make outs with you. like panting, fingers laced in each other's hair, bodies fighting to get into each other’s seats — make out sessions.

his! laugh! the way you can get him to laugh is definitely one of his favorite things in the world, and his smile could light up a room. also has the tendency to laugh at you even when you're not being funny.

pushes his face into the crook of your neck to fall asleep. his breath on your skin can make you feel weird and loved at the same time, but his sound sleeps are worth it. also pushes you to lay on your back so he can curl up beside you and rub his forehead against you.

more chaotic dates where he does things you're afraid of just to show you not to be so scared. hugs you like a koala for the rest of the day.

matching outfits like crazy. even down to the accessories. loves spoiling you with new outfits even if you tell him you hate getting gifts so often.

hugs your waist and lifts you up to reach something instead of getting it down himself.

will have the same pic of you and him set as everything. his phone’s lockscreen, wallpaper, his laptop’s lockscreen, wallpaper, profile pics, it’s the only post on his social media.

so in love that it can come across as icky. blushing cheeks, sweaty palms, a bounce in his step.

mocks you like you’re already an old married couple. but his loving banter comes off as charming.

the saying 'know you like the back of my hand' had to have been written by him, himself, because he does, in fact, know you that well. he knows the different sounds of your sneezes - aka whether you have a cold or not. he knows the change of your morning voice versus the tone you have in the middle of the day. anything going through your mind, this man has down pact.

random night calls where he just goes 'I'm at the door, let me in." because his hands are too full to reach for his key. stumbles in with bags full of snacks and treats just to have you both sit on the floor eating and ranting until dawn.

the softest kisses. and I mean the softest kisses. like michael angelo adding details to his paintings, type soft. you can hardly ever feel them and barely knows he's there until he starts laughing or vibrating from the sudden eye contact you're giving him.

would rather waddle side to side in a back hug than let you go to walk somewhere alone.

has a list of everything he loves to share with you over time. movies, music, random memos in his phone.

included in those phone memos are literally so many details about you that it can make your eyes roll. he has the smallest details noted and little asterisks to remind him to write them down in a physical journal one day, but you might have to do that for him.

a lot quieter than he makes himself out to be. is basically a ghost when you're around him. the only way you really ever know where he is is if he's lugging around a bluetooth speaker with music playing.

messy! hair! he will literally refuse to brush his own hair until you do it for him. loves it more if you just use your fingers to comb his locks.

squinted eyes because he's smiling at you so hard that he'll probably bump into something in the process.

lets you hold both sides of his face in your palms. especially if he's cold. sometimes you can squish.

Leedo:

being with gunhak — it is literally a love novel.

warm eyes that sparkle when he looks at you. you notice it and keep quiet just to bask in his affection, but it’s always the first thing people mention when they talk about your relationship.

can’t help but reach his hand across the table to hold yours while you eat.

scrunches his nose when you say silly things.

the most attentive person when you’re telling a story. will sit with his chin in his palm and his eyes going between your gaze and lips as you speak. makes constant “mhm” and “ohh” sounds to let you know he’s right in the story with you. stops you to laugh at the way you say a specific word. you both spend hours sitting somewhere together just telling stories back and forth until the sun rises or sets.

can’t go a single day without throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you around.

has his hand on your lower back all day. like all day. in public, at home, in bed while you're sleeping. as long as his hand is on your back, you know he’s next to you.

his face is always a hotter temperature than the rest of his body, especially if you’ve been looking at him all day. crimson cheeks, red-tipped ears, reddened lips because he can’t stop kissing you.

sleeps with you laying in between his legs and your head on his chest. you fall asleep to the beat of his heartbeat while he plays with your fingers and listens to your breathing.

puts you in the shopping cart before any items just so he can wheel you around and listen to you laugh when he pretends he’s going to ram into something.

will pull the shirt/jacket/top he was wearing over his head and toss it to you to wear or hug if he’s leaving so you don’t miss him too much.

isn’t extremely good with speaking words to express what he wants to say, so oftentimes you find little notebook pages folded around the house with love notes written on them. him telling you how much he appreciates how much you do for him. him saying ‘i love you’ in different colored ink in different kinds of ways. sometimes a smashed flower in between the pages just for added scents. completely a cheesy romantic with love notes.

likes to let you drive so he can put his elbow against the window and stare at you from across the front of the vehicle. while you’re focused he’s grinning and giggling because it’s ‘super adorable’.

sends flowers to your work at the most inappropriate times in order to keep anyone that’s been flirting with you in their place. very subtle about being protective, and thankfully never has to make large leaps to have others understand you’re unavailable. thinks it’s the best thing in the world when someone is eyeing you and you come running to him to dramatically toss your arms around his neck and place a kiss on his lips.

enjoys having cleverly matching pieces. a pair of earrings shared between the two of you. matching bracelets. soft cotton shirts you can wear on your days off. two blankets of the same designs but different colors.

severely embraces breaking his shyness when it comes to pda. will pull you into his arms and kiss you while walking down the street. lets you sit on his lap in a busy place. carries you on his back around big stores.

works out with you around him. if he wants to do sit ups, you're holding his feet. if he wants to do push ups, you're laying under him giving him kisses every time he comes down.

forehead kisses. temple kisses. cheek kisses. literally all of the softest kisses.

terribly difficult to wake up, but the sound of your voice will draw his lids to open in an instant so he can see your smiling face.

super nervous about the entire relationship so you have to guide him at a reasonable pace. hold his hand first, kiss him first, even say 'i love you' first, but he'll return it all in a beat after you express your love.

Hwanwoong:

would be the one to have that situation where you met by running into each other at full force and had to laugh it off despite how much pain you were both in. he does something like offer to buy you a drink as an apology and then he never leaves your side.

sits with him between your legs and his back pressed into your front so you can hug him around his waist and lean on him.

smells are a huge deal to him. hoards light scented candles and renames them with comic titles or references to your relationship just to make you laugh when he calls them out in conversations.

runs his fingers through your hair as a way of showing affection on a regular basis. if you’re in public, he’ll sneak in a quick kiss just because he isn’t huge on pda.

but not liking pda doesn't mean he won't cling to you behind closed doors. he can't go very long without brushing his skin against your own, even in a subtle way.

physically capable of making meals on his own, or with you, but he's too lazy. enjoy the take out! also huge on getting snack foods to feed you in a romantic way without it being intentional.

quiet. very quiet. he enjoys silence while holding you or waking up in the midst of the night just to hear you sleeping peacefully. it's his solace.

although he gets whiny, he will let you do anything you want to him. test out makeup looks on him, play with his hair, make him dress up for you. just as long as you can reciprocate by going on sweet dates with him or let him read his favorite stories to you, he's all for it.

gets you random, very personal gifts. his attentiveness is insane, so he'll give you something like a better-formed pillow to help you sleep or a journal of your silly inside jokes to keep around when you have to be apart.

pretends he's not emotional during the day only to spill the deepest things to you at night. you're his diary and he loves you for that.

but with his distant state, you're still the one to notice things first. if he's too tired, if he's hungry - you know the tell-tale signs and can quietly get him back on his feet. you’re basically his weakness and muse all at once.

he might be the last one to wake up, but that's just because he enjoys knowing you slept by his side all night.

tilts your head to the side to kiss you because he thinks it's romantic.

doesn't care who you think you are, he will give you a piggyback ride.

does that thing where you'll be doing something important and he'll be sat next to you whispering jokes into your ear to keep you from getting stressed. also has to hold your hand the entire time or else he'll get up.

intuitive to your emotions and feelings. if you're in pain somewhere, he's in pain. if you're laughing, he's laughing.

the most pleasing, deep morning voice ever. doesn't even have to try. it's like two octaves lower than his regular voice and will always give you the shivers.

instead of big things for dates he does tasks like have all of your house chores done when you return or studies up on your school work to help you out. it's his way of showing affection and appreciation. but he does bigger things too like cover your bathroom in flower petals with a nice bath running when you get home.

has a tendency of saying your name the most when he’s sleeping.

makes choreography and dedicates them to you all the time. will tug you into the practice room to show you moves. but then he's giggling uncontrollably and starts complimenting you until you kiss him.

Keonhee:

records everything all the time. has backup storage just so he can film everything you both do or take a thousand pictures. spends literal hours printing out the pictures to make photo albums or put them on his wall so he never has to go a moment without seeing you. carries around a physical, mini album just to stare at while he’s traveling or feels lonely.

loves showering with you. will take the showerhead off of the wall and hold it over you while making lightsaber sounds.

loves the sound of you saying his name more than anything. when he's happy, upset, angry - just a call of his name can settle his emotions. and maybe a kiss too.

will sit or lay somewhere and just stare at you with a big, goofy grin on his face and loving sparkles in his eyes for no particular reason.

claps your hands together before he holds them.

makes music playlists titled with hysterical names that are more distracting than the chaos of the actual list. names them with emojis and such to see if you can code his secret love messages.

his lips are always redder than normal around you. quite literally doesn't know when or how to stop kissing you.

cannot comprehend how he could love someone more than you. it's that dumb love like he'll trip over his own two feet, say your name instead of his own when ordering something, or even intentionally get something he hates just because you like it.

changes the color of the led lights to define the mood. happy, sad, sexy time. the room is a rainbow every week.

contrary to popular belief of the cancer man, he's not clingy until you tell him to be. postpones all physical contact to the last moment when you ask why he's distant and give him consent to holding you whenever he wants. then he never lets you go.

has to be even in height with you ninety percent of the day, even if you're off by a few centimeters. helps you sit on the kitchen counter, hunches to kiss you, lifts you up by your waist.

being on opposite ends of a room while he's doing hand gestures and silently singing you the song stuck in his head.

his most genuine habit is giving away all of his emotions in his eyes. one glance and you know exactly how he feels, even if he isn't speaking about it aloud.

thinks being out in the rain is extremely romantic but will pull you back inside at the first drop because "you might get a cold".

hardly wears clothes when he starts getting seriously comfortable with you. no shirt, maybe some pajama pants, maybe some socks with random patterns on them. if he gets hot at any point, shield your eyes.

pouts without actually pouting. you'll hear a little huff from beside you instead.

put your belongings into the rips of his jeans instead of his pockets. they're 'safe'.

visibly shudders when he gets to hold your hand after a long day.

so many shoulder kisses you can't even keep up with them anymore.

you have a collection of him scrunching his nose when you're trying to get soft couple pictures because he can't take it seriously.

Xion:

if you fall asleep on him at any point during the day, he'll wrap you in his jacket or a blanket around you and carry you to bed. he'll let you rest comfortably while he lays beside you and watches you sleep while running his fingers across your face in a loving way.

sleeps holding your hand no matter what position you're both in.

dates are basically: carnivals to sit at the top of the ferris wheel and make out peacefully, picnics in the park to pick flowers and put them in your hair, going to bookstores just to shuffle through the comics and mangas.

bites you. slowly. he’s not the type to just bite into your skin randomly, more like you’ll get big puppy eyes and know he’s up to something before you feel a little nibble.

competitive in an ‘i’ll let you win if you give me a kiss’ way. guess who always wins. sike it’s him because he can use it as an excuse to make you pouty and then kiss you until you can’t even pretend to be angry anymore.

loves singing to you and only you.

hand-makes you jewelry because he finds it more endearing than buying them. plus it's sentimental.

hates blushing in front of others, but you can make him blush from a few words. loves the pet names you come up with. they sound like common conversation pieces so no one questions why you said them until they notice his face is nearly crimson.

unintentionally does romantic stuff. plays ballads over a speaker while prancing around until you take his hand and dance with him. finds a rose bush and gently clips a single flower to put in a vase for you. absentmindedly kisses your knuckles when he sees you for the first time in a while.

has the hardest time showing emotions, but does have the tendency to cry when parting or send you chain texts about how much he misses you when he's away.

random cheek kisses throughout the day.

sweater paws because you're both wearing his large hoodies and holding hands.

has more soft objects than you've ever witnessed a person own. now they're partially yours, so choose a stuffed animal.

random store dates where you go inside and find the strangest items you both fall in love with and get to put on display at home. you know when you go to someone's house and see an object that makes you question how it got there? he gets a lot of those for the two of you. 'conversation pieces', he says.

remembers cheesy quotes to tell you throughout the day to make you smile. if he wasn't in love, he'd never think twice about memorizing them.

probably thinking about kissing you every second of every day, but he uses his kisses wisely.

steals your shirts to sleep with when he's away because they smell like you.

cannot handle more than holding your hand in public at first, but he'll learn to love pda very quickly if you enjoy it.

where has all his phone's storage gone? oh, they're just pictures of you sleeping.

so adorned by you that his eyes literally sparkle, even if you're in his peripheral.

[svt-junhwan]

christmas cookies |

in which | junhwan makes christmas cookies

characters | junhwan miller, veronica miller, wen junhui, xu minghao, boo seungkwan

word count | 1.2k

circa | christmas 2020

“How long do I do this for?” Junhwan asks.

“About five minutes,” his mom responds.

“Oof.”

Junhwan’s mom laughs, “It would be about two if you had an electric mixer but...”

“We must press onward,” Junhwan says seriously, continuing to aggressively whisk the sugar and softened sticks of butter together.

Wanting to do something more than buying presents for his members, Junhwan set out to make Christmas cookies for them the night before Christmas Day. He’s using the recipe his late grandmother made rather than any store-bought mix. It isn’t his first time making cookies from scratch, but it is his first time doing it on his own. Although, technically, he isn’t alone as his mother is on FaceTime with him helping him along.

Eventually, the first two ingredients are well-combined.

“Alright, next it says to add the eggs and vanilla and almond extracts,” Junhwan reads from the file his mom had sent him.

“Yep,” his mother agrees.

After the remaining wet ingredients are incorporated, Junhwan mixes in the flour and baking soda with a few helpful tips along the way that have been passed down through generations of Miller women.

“And... chill for an hour,” Junhwan reads once he has flattened the dough into the right thickness on two separate cookie sheets.

“Or freeze for thirty minutes,” his mom adds helpfully.

“Okay.”

Junhwan slides the two cookies sheets into the freezer carefully. He washes his hands then picks up his phone, heading back to his room to wait.

“Thanks, mom.”

“You’re welcome,” she says. “But isn’t it a bit late to be baking there?”

Junhwan glances at the time in the top corner of his phone. 10:13.

“Not terribly.”

“Isn’t it 9- no, 10:13?”

“I’m trying to be a good friend, mother.”

His mom laughs, “You don’t need to make cookies to prove that, Adam.”

“Well, here we are.”

“Yes. Here we are.”

Junhwan flops onto his bed with a sigh. Between practices and awards shows and yearend shows and practices for awards shows and yearend shows, this is the only free time he’s gotten in the past few days. This is the primary reason Junhwan has been completely uninterrupted in the kitchen when normally his members would be in and out; they’re all asleep or very tired.

“You’re sleeping enough?” Junhwan’s mother asks.

“Yeah... maybe not consecutively but when I can.”

His mom hums unhappily.

“Hey, it’s not entirely my fault; we’ve been extra busy during awards shows season.”

“You work hard enough, Adam,” his mother tells him, “You have to look after yourself, too.”

“I am,” Junhwan insists.

His mother looks at him through the phone as if trying to detect any falsities behind his words. Whether it’s the lack of any or the distance between them, she finds none.

“Alright,” she relents. “But I can speak Korean pretty well now. I can go to more than just Joshua or Vernon for checkups now.”

“Mom, I’m an adult.”

“But you will always be my son. It’s my job to worry about you.”

Junhwan gets the warm feeling he always gets when his mom reminds him of her love for him, as though regardless of what anyone else thinks, he will always have at least one person in his corner. He smiles.

“Merry Christmas, mom.”

“Merry Christmas, Adam. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you more.”

Junhwan waits in the kitchen diligently as his cookies bake. He’s a little too nervous for a bad outcome to let himself become distracted by his phone as he waits; he was warned it won’t take long for them to burn as they’re so thin. His timer goes off and he quickly opens the oven to check on the cookies.

He takes them out quickly and starts removing them from the cookie sheets to cool. There are around forty cookies on two trays waiting to be iced. He opts to remain in the kitchen as they cool, ignoring the way tiredness pulls at the back of his mind. He sits in a kitchen chair and opens his current book.

A few chapters later, he gets up and checks the residual heat in his cookies. He’s only just begun icing them when the first figure slips into the kitchen.

“What’re you making?”

Junhwan looks up and finds Jun entering the kitchen, obviously having just woken up. A quick glance at the clock tells him it’s ten past eleven.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Junhwan asks, continuing to ice.

“No,” Jun lies.

As Jun reaches for one of the few already iced cookies, Minghao appears and tugs him back.

“Let the kid finish before you destroy his hard work.”

“Sorry, dad.”

“I am younger than you.”

“Then act like it.”

“Maybe you should act more mature.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Junhwan chuckles at the two Chinese boys’ bickering.

A fourth boy enters the kitchen, Seungkwan.

“Speaking of immature,” Minghao says.

Seungkwan freezes in place, “I breathed.”

The boys laugh quietly, doing their best to remain quiet for the still sleeping members in the dorm. Junhwan feels guilty, knowing he woke the other three up despite their attempts at denying it. They stay in the kitchen with him, talking softly amongst themselves as he finishes frosting his cookies. He’s not a very talented baker, even less so when is comes to decorating, so he does a simple pattern of three lines crossed in the center of each cookie. Soon, he finishes.

“Okay,” he says quietly, gaining the others’ attention. “Try one.”

Jun reaches for one first, biting off one of the snowflake’s arms. He chews a few times then stops, silent and face purposely blank. Junhwan watches his reaction and his face falls.

“Are they bad?”

Jun doesn’t respond.

Minghao quickly wraps an arm around Junhwan’s waist, taking his comfort on as his responsibility.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Minghao says.

Seungkwan picks up a cookie as well, taking a bite similar to Jun’s. Seungkwan barely gets through his second chew before stopping, jaw opening in his mouth as though his tongue is trying to get away from the taste.

Junhwan immediately feels horrible, “I-I’m sorry! I just thought I’d do something nice but I didn’t think they’d be that bad. I’m sorry-“

Junhwan is cut off as Jun and Seungkwan fall into laughter, still doing their best to remain quiet which only makes them laugh harder. Junhwan blinks at them in confusion for a moment before it clicks. He groans and sinks to the floor in embarrassment; he’s so gullible.

“You two are so mean!” Minghao halfheartedly scolds them, fighting back laughter of his own.

“God, you looked so- so- I don’t know!” Jun laughs.

“Like a puppy who got told no,” Seungkwan suggests.

“Yes!”

Another wave of laughter comes and this time, Minghao joins them. Junhwan lies down completely on the kitchen floor.

“One day, I’m going to die are you’re going to have to live with the fact that you bullied me since I was thirteen,” he tells them.

“I can live with that,” Seungkwan says with minor consideration.

“Same,” Jun agrees, popping the rest of his cookie in his mouth.

[lukneetoonz]

Never Tear Us Apart

——————————————————————————

Summary: You always did say you attracted the bad ones...

Pairing: Mafia!Dabi x Jazz Singer Female!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, smoking, cussing, sexy times implied, violence, semi angst I guess, drinking, just some good stuff.

Word Count: 2,509

A/N: I know I know- what the hell am I doing writing another Fic when I still have two to finish, well, when I saw prison outfit dabi, I just- *boom* instant inspiration, I couldn’t help it! PLUS I HIT 200 FOLLOWERS AND WANTED TO DO SOMETHING SPECIAL!!

ARTWORK CREDS TO @workofann ! I WAS INSPIRED BY THEIR ART TO DO THIS!! PLEASE GO CHECK THEM OUT!

——————————————————————————

How come you only attracted the bad guys? And no you didn’t mean jerks, you meant actual bad guys. Was it something about you that made guys think, ‘Hey this pretty dime looks like she would go for me, a famous bank robber!’. You don’t even have enough fingers to count all the men you’ve been with that end up in jail, or dead! But you’ll have to admit, none of those men took your breath away like the blue eyed devil you called your man.

How could you not fall in love with Dabi? The way he smirked, how he would smoke after an amazing night in bed, but the best of it all was his whisky and campfire scent. It was intoxicating, and if you could, you’d drown in it. From the very first moment that your eyes met, you knew you had to have him and keep those beautiful alluring eyes in your life. For the rest of your set, you only stared at him across the club, making sure to put on your best performance.

Thankfully you also caught his eye, not even listening to the blonde haired girl beside him, or the blue haired man who looked like he might kill the girl across from him. As the boss, Dabi didn’t need to listen, he just needed to give orders and stand back. Never did the man think he would be thankful to Toga for something so insignificant, like finding this underground jazz club. Snapping out of his trance, he made his crew leave, because like hell was he going to let them see you up close and ruining things for him before he even got a chance.

That night, Dabi waited. He waited until you were done so he could talk to you, maybe buy you a drink. As you walked off the stage, a hand reached out to you to help, wanting to make sure you didn’t fall. When your eyes met those shining blue ones again, you automatically blushed, because now those eyes were even closer. Seeing them so close, you could see every little detail, they held so much in them, it felt like you could drown in them.

“So Tell me, what does a guy like me gotta do to buy a pretty little dame like yourself, a drink?” His smooth, but raspy voice brought A smile to your face as you felt your whole body heat up. “Hmm, I don’t know honey… how does tellin me your name sound?” Dabi leaned closer to you, a smirk on his face as he twirled a strand of your hair with his finger, “Names Dabi. Now how about we go dip the bill and I can learn more about you than just your name?”

That’s all it took for you to mindlessly nod and follow the stranger to the bar, unknowing that it would be the first of many nights you would spend together. Not that you were complaining…

*•*

Months later, you found yourself spending all your free time with Dabi. You guys told eachother everything, well at least you told him everything. Even if you had talked about marriage and what the future held for you two, you still didn’t know about his real job, nor his hobbies. You were listening to the radio news while you got dinner ready, not really caring until the crime spot started.

“Touya Todoroki, also known as ‘Matches’, struck again last night. In his wake, 4 bodies were recovered from the burned warehouse that is notoriously known for its storing of pharmaceutical drugs. The bodies have not been identified, but the police ask if anyone has information on the mafia boss, please call the tip line.” You shuddered as a frown made its way onto your face, those poor people… not to mention their families, what if they never find out?

The opening and closing of the door brought you out of your thoughts, and also brought a smile on your face. “Doll? You here?” Skipping out of the kitchen, you prounced on Dabi, arms wrapping around his neck as he spun you around. “You’re home early honey, good day today?” You were so innocent, so sweet, that’s what drew him towards you. But it’s also what made him feel so horribly guilty. Nodding, the black haired man kissed your forehead, “It’s a good day whenever I get to see you doll…”

A giggle left your lips as you stared up at the handsome man, hands playing with his suspenders, “I already love you, you don’t have to flirt with me anymore” Dabi laughed, kissing your nose as he winked, “Who says I flirt for you? Maybe I flirt because I love seeing your reactions to it.” He really knew what to say to make your heart flutter, smiling you kissed his cheek softly.

“So, anything new today?” Dabi asked as he sat down at the table, watching you do the same. “Not really, but the radio was talking about some redhot… even thinking about it gives me the heebie-jeebies” You shuddered as you once again remembered the reporters words. Dabi tilted his head and took a sip of his drink, looking at you curiously, “It was probably just some common thug that the fuzz will put away.” You frowned at your man's nonchalant attitude.

“That’s the thing, they were saying it was some- big named mobster! They had a nickname for him and everything, he popped 4 people!” At the new information, Dabi tensed and his grip on the utensils tightened. “Uh… you talking about Matches?” You pointed at the man across from you nodding, “Yes-! That was it. Touya ‘Matches’ todo-something! I can’t stop thinking if those people he killed had families, and if they did will they even be able to bury them properly?”

The more you talked, the faster Dabi’s heart raced. Those damn reporters never knew when to shut their kissers. Yet, hearing you talk about him in such a negative tone made him fill with guilt. He was nothing but a grifter. He convinced himself and you, that he was a normal 9 to 5 worker, he made you believe that he was anything but the man on the radio. When you saw those beautiful blue eyes staring off into space, you couldn’t help but frown, wanting to know what was troubling him so you could help.

“You look troubled handsome, what’s going on?” Dabi bit his lip and looked at her, a thoughtful look on his face, but before he could answer, the door was broken down and multiple police officers came charging in with their guns up, “DON'T MOVE AND PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS” In came a big man, with fire red hair and- and eyes that matched Dabi? Screaming out, you did as you were told, looking over to the man you loved terrified, only to see he had a dark look on his face, anger practically sleeping out of him.

“Where the fuck do you get off coming in when I’m with my girl? Huh?” Dabi snarled, his eyes meeting the red haired detective, in one motion he pulled you behind him. “She doesn’t know shit, you didn’t need to bring the whole chopper squad.” You were confused, but nonetheless gripped onto Dabi like your life depended on it. “Zip it Touya, by the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be begging to be left to fry” Enji motioned for one of the officers to grab you, and before you could protest, arms wrapped around you and started tugging you away.

Dabi didn’t hesitate to react as he whipped around and sucker punched the officer who dared to touch you. Only he was roughly grabbed and pistol whipped by Enji, “Assaulting a police officer? That can earn you a three-spot easily. And your little pro skirt here? I can send her to the house for hiding a thug like you.” You sobbed out, trying to reach Dabi but he held his hand up to you, as of saying stop.

“That’s my girl you’re talking bad about, watch it pig. Like I said she knows nothing, she’s just a little Canary at a small jazz club.” Enji let out a snicker, walking towards you and forcefully grabbed your chin to look at him, “How dumb does this broad have to be to not know she’s been sharing a bed with a punk like yourself?” You let out a whimper, eyes filled with fright as you looked at Dabi, “D-Dabi, what is he talking about?”

Sapphire eyes refused to meet your own, jaw tensing he let a cop handcuff him, “I’m the one you heard about on the radio doll… I’m sorry” His words were a whisper, and you felt as if your whole world came crashing down as you dropped to your knees. Enji laughed before he grabbed dabi’s arm, “You’re an embarrassment to the Todoroki name.” The red haired man scoffed, earning a glare from Dabi, “You ain’t no angel yourself, pop.”

As they dragged Dabi away, you didn’t even know what to feel. He lied to you. This whole time he lied to you. You didn’t even know his real name. Who was the man you fell in love with? Was that just a cover? A facade to hide from the police? When everyone was gone, you still stayed in your spot, tears rushing down your face as you felt like you had been beaten down. Could you even love Dabi anymore?

*•*

Ever since that day, you had no contact with Dabi. Even if he hurt you, you still listened to the radio to hear about his trial, or any news related to him. It had been 2 months without him, and you couldn’t find it in you to let him go. When the reporter announced that Dabi was sentenced to life in prison, you couldn’t help but sob. You were going to have to let him go, even if he was the love of your life, you still wanted to get married one day, maybe even have kids. You wanted all those things that you were supposed to do with Dabi, but now you can’t.

After he was properly sentenced and sent to his new home, you started getting letters frequently, all of them from the same place Dabi was held at. Even if your heart begged you to open each letter, you couldn’t. If you did, you’d fall right back into his arms and be stuck on him til the day you died. After a month of letters, they stopped coming, only for dabi’s associates to come knocking at your door. But you ignored the loud banging and calls for your name, maybe- just maybe they’ll think you moved.

While you were a mess, Dabi was even worse. Sure, he was basically the king of the house, but it all meant nothing when he lost the only thing he loved; his queen. Dabi grew worried, thinking something might have happened to you, so when he sent his associates at your door, imagine his surprise to know you were alive. He knew he messed up, but like hell was he gonna let the image of him being dragged away be your last memory of him.

Since the day he was arrested, Dabi was planning his escape. He had some of the jurors on his pay grade, not to mention most of the guards at the prison owed him a favor. One day, later in the night, Dabi was being ‘transported’, his little informer Hawks had him all set up for the perfect escape. The handcuffs would ‘malfunction’ and he’d be able to free a hand from one of the silver bracelets, granting him more than enough leeway to escape unharmed.

As he bent down over one of the now dead guards, he took in a deep breath, stealing the pack of cigarettes that was on the corpse. “Keigo, did i ever tell you that you’re my favorite little snitch?” Yellow eyes glared as the blonde man cleaned up slightly, “yeah yeah, just shoot me in the shoulder and go get your gal.” Dabi laughed before shooting Keigo in a place he knew wouldn’t kill him, but still make it seem like he wasn’t part of what happened.

There was no hesitation in dabi’s actions as he stayed in the shadows but made his way to you, still in his orange jumper and partial handcuffs. All he knew was that he needed to see you. It was late, probably about 10 pm, so he knew you were probably asleep. When he reached your building, he started climbing up the fire escape, counting the floors as he went up. As he reached your window, he didn’t hesitate to open it, slightly upset that it wasn’t locked and just anyone could come in.

Though when he entered, he had a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips, blue eyes automatically landing on your fully awake figure, clutching a crowbar. “D-dabi?” Tears filles your eyes, as you pinched yourself, trying to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The man before you chuckled, walking towards you, “I was getting worried something happened to you doll, it stings to know that all along you’ve been avoiding me.”

Even if he had a playful tone, his eyes were full of hurt, but it soon changed when you collided with his chest. “H-how? I thought I was never going to see you again, and- dabi I had to keep my distance or else I would never be able to let you go!” The black haired man hushed your rambles, a hand coming to stroke your hair, “I’m sorry doll… I promise I ain’t ever leaving you again.” A smile spread to both of your faces, but you soon looked worried.

“What if they come here looking for you? What will we do?” Ruffling your hair Dabi went and grabbed your suitcase, putting it on the bed. “We won’t be here for them to tear us apart. I know a place for us to stay and they won’t ever get to us.” You nodded and started to stuff your belongings into the empty bag, heart racing with excitement of the unknown. “We’ll never die out, right Dabi?” Dabi nodded, hand coming to cup your cheek, “Right doll…”

[alovesongshewrote]

Almost A Thousand Years - 1900/10 | Hisirdoux Casperan

Plot:  You’ve known Hisirdoux Casperan for almost a thousand years.  You’ve hated him for almost a thousand years.  And for almost a thousand years, you’ve been cursed to feel each others pain.  But somewhere in that time, things changed.  [Hisirdoux Casperan x Mostly Gender Neutral but Probably Female Presenting Based on How Historical Men Treat Them!Reader]

Word Count: 1,595

Warnings:  world war 1 and crying, big angst

A/N:  very sad, reader is traumatized, conscription is not a fantastic policy., i might post another chapter because I really want you guys to read the chapter for the 80′s.  also, a plot twist.  

Back | Next

Unfortunately, infamous serial killers were not the only things lurking in the dark at the turn of the century.

While you, the wizard, and the familiar explored a changing world, something clawed its way out of the dark

He’d been trapped for centuries, wasting away beneath what was once Camelot, but now, he was free.  And he had a few goals in mind.

He would free his father, destroy both man and trollkind, and take his revenge on you, the traitor.

And with the rise of the twentieth century rose, so did Bular.

Then he almost drowned on the Titanic.  He straight up chose the wrong ship to stow away on.  He had to swim to America, the poor loser.  He was trying to track you down, but he messed that up too, you were still in Europe!

What a dumbass!

Meanwhile, you were getting traumatized during the first world war.

Your drive to help those who needed it sent you to the military.  There, you worked as a medic, helping both soldiers and civilians.  Your heart broke with every wounded soldier, every innocent person who passed under your care.  Their faces haunted your dreams, reminding you of everything else you had lost in your life.  These people, the soldiers who fought before you, the nurses who healed with you, the innocents who struggled through this war with you, none of them deserved this hell.  

That only drove you to work harder.

You did whatever you could to save every life possible.  You worked through the night, living off of the coffee supplied to you.  You even went as far as to use a little magic when you could, something you, personally, had not done since the witch hunts in the seventeenth century.  It was a lot, and there were times when you nearly passed out from exhaustion, but it still wasn’t enough.  People still died; in your arms, on the battlefield, everywhere.  You did your best to comfort the ones you couldn’t save, but their tears scarred your skin worse than any wound could.

And you blamed yourself.

For every fallen soldier, for the blood of the innocent spilled across cobblestone, you found some way to place the blame on you.  You weren’t fast enough, you weren’t strong enough, you weren’t good enough.  It was your fault, every body under a sheet, every blood-soaked letter home, every burned shoe at the edge of a road, it was on you.  You were a witch, with a background in medicine stretching back eight-hundred years.  Why didn’t you save more people!?

And when the war was over, you kept going.

You kept healing, everyone, everywhere, as many people as you could manage and more.  Your guilt was eating you alive.

Somewhere else in war-torn Europe, Douxie was feeling the same way.

He’d been conscripted into this war with every other man his age.  Or, at the very least his fake age.  He wasn’t sure there were regulations for the conscription of eight-hundred-year-old citizens.

Regardless, he fought honourably, trying to avoid killing anyone.  That didn’t stop the pain of watching his fellow soldiers die in the trenches beside him.  He tried to avoid making attachments out here.  But that didn’t stop him from doing whatever he could to save lives.  Douxie was always protective by nature, and this led to him shoving his comrades out of the paths of bullets, using the least magic he could to stop shrapnel, and using himself as a human shield.  

He was doing the right thing, putting his life on the line to save others, but he felt bad every time he did it.  He felt guilty that at any moment, he could die, and you would die with him.

He’d tried to get out of conscription to protect you, but there wasn’t much he could do there.  Instead, he fought the way he thought you’d want him to, saving everyone who needed it.  

Sometimes, he wondered why he decided to live by your mantra.  Maybe it was the guilt of putting your life at risk.  Maybe it was because his exposure to your excessive need to save lives grew on him and made him want to be a better person.  He didn’t know.  (And really, he didn’t even think of the second part until much later.)

Douxie, however, was not as tied to the mantra as you.  He still blamed himself for a lot of the death around him.  (He was a wizard, why couldn't he save more people!?)  But he was able to shake the grief a lot quicker than you were.

So, after the war, he was shaken but alright, and you were borderline broken.

And then your paths crossed.

The shops weren’t too crowded that day.  It was quiet enough for you to take in the face of the only other person on that particular side of the building.

“Douxie,”  you would’ve sounded more surprised if you weren’t too tired to show emotion.

“(Y/N)?”  the wizard took a cautious step towards you, almost as if he were about to offer you an arm for support.  You might’ve been offended by that if you hadn’t looked and felt like hell.

There were bags under your eyes from lost sleep.  You felt like you’d topple over into that stack of canned goods at any moment.  Briefly, you wondered if canned goods would be soft enough to nap on.  You couldn’t ponder that long though, otherwise, Douxie would figure out that you were not at all okay.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhmm,” you were very clearly not alright, “I just haven’t been sleeping well since-”

“The war?”

“Yeah, that,”

“I didn’t know you were on the field,”

“Yeah, well, you know me,” you yawned, “I just have to save everyone I can.  I didn’t do a very good job though,”  your laughter was cold, and before long you were crying in the middle of the general store.

“Oh, god, (Y/N),” Douxie’s voice was a whisper as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

You didn’t have time for formalities, or for the fact that you were still technically enemies.  You needed a hug and you needed it now.

And so you hugged Douxie.  And he hugged back.

He just held you for ten minutes, your face in his shoulder, his in your hair.  Neither of you moved, and you didn’t try to look at the other person’s face, and even though this fic is enemies to lovers, you didn’t kiss him, and he didn’t kiss you.  All you did was hold on to each other for dear life, two immortals hurtling through time and space, essentially alone except for the other.

It was nice to hang onto an old adversary.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry,”

“Don’t be.  For any of this.  The war wasn’t your fault, and you did everything you could.  I know you did,”

You were thankful for his words, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe them.

“Still, I got your shirt wet,” you said, brushing the damp patch with the tips of your fingers, “At least let me be sorry for that,”

“If I do, will you let me buy you a drink?”

“I-” you were a little taken aback by this, but you were totally down with it, “Yeah, sure, why not,”

A short while later, the two of you sat in a nice cafe, drinking coffee and tea respectively, and talking more than you had in centuries.

“So you’re serious?  He just yelled ‘fuzzbuckets,’ and threw his pistol?  Just-” you mimicked throwing something across the cafe.

“Oh yeah, dead serious,”

“Well, look at you teaching impressionable youths medieval swears,”

“I guess.  Good to know if we both die ‘fuzzbuckets’ will live on,”

You laughed, and this time you didn’t end up crying.

“So, Casperan,”  you started, taking a sip of your drink, “How does a wizard apprentice end up fighting in a no-magic war?”

“Conscription,”

“Ah,”

His face grew dark for a moment, “It wasn’t a good policy.  They sent in hundreds of young men who weren’t ready, and who didn’t want to be there.  They didn’t-” he paused, trying to keep the horrors from his mind, “They didn’t deserve to see the things we saw,”

“Neither did you,”

“I know,” his voice was a whisper, almost as if he didn’t believe it. That thought alone broke your heart.

You bit your lip, “So, keep talking.  Not just about the war, about anything,”

Four centuries ago, Hisirdoux Casperan had listened to you ramble on about politics for an hour.  Now it was his turn to speak, and your turn to listen.  In this century though, you had more time. The subject changed a few times.  He spoke of music and magic and Merlin.  You spoke of medicine and your mentor.  You spoke of time passing, and architectural trends, and the case of the Rippers.  You sat there for hours, talking about anything that crossed your minds.  It was nice to talk to someone, for both of you.

Sooner than you would’ve liked, it was nightfall, and you both had to return home.

“So,” you smiled at your once-enemy, “Thank you.  For the coffee, and for putting up with-” you gestured at yourself, “This,”

He laughed, “I’ve been putting up with you for years, love, you don’t need to thank me,”

“I guess I’ll see you next century?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,”

You smiled, the grin reaching your eyes, “Go, home wizard, your familiar’s waiting,”

“I’ll see you in a hundred years, darling,”

[raleighcarrera]

circles

platinum | shane parker x mc (cadence dorian)

shane and cadence have been best friends their entire lives. so why do things feel so different when she comes to visit him at college? set pre-book. (for @platinumweekend ❤️)

tags: @choicesarehard ; @empressazura; @zigtheeortega ; @pixeljazzy ; @withbeautyandrage 

~3.1k words | T

“it’s not like that.” it feels like at least the fourth or fifth time he’s said as much since he first casually mentioned that cadence would be coming to visit this weekend, much to the delight of his friends. “we’ve been best friends our whole lives. that’s it.”

“sure,” angelica grins, looking just about as far from angelic as any one person can get. “if you say so.”

devon takes a less patronizing approach. she shrugs, not looking up from where she’s filing her nails. “i don’t buy it. you don’t go through puberty with someone without having at least a little sexual tension with them.”

“oh my god,” shane groans, “will you guys stop? we’ve never -- i don’t -- we’re just friends.”

evan, his roommate, hums. “just let me know if you need me to clear out tonight, okay? casey said i could bunk with him.”

“if you guys don’t shut up, i swear to god --”

there’s a chorus of protests from around the table, several whispered exhalations of touchy, i see and hands being raised placatingly. he rolls his eyes, picking up his empty plate. it’s time to go pick cadence up from the bus stop, like -- now. “just please be normal when she gets here, okay?”

“we will if you will!” angelica calls out after him. laughter follows him as he exits the dining hall, and he only exhales once he’s halfway to his car, shaking his head. 

his college friends are far from the first group of people to assume that there’s something more than just friendship between he and cadence. his own parents have implied a number of times that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if they got together, and that’s about a girl that’s slept over at his house more times than he can count, a girl who he went through his power rangers phase with, a girl who saw him through middle school and high school and still somehow liked him enough to call him her best friend.

he’s gotten very good at ignoring comments from people who don’t understand their relationship or even think it’s weird how close they are, so being teased by his friends doesn’t bother him as much as it makes him roll his eyes.

shane’s used to the judgments others cast on what’s always been nothing more than a mutually supportive and wholly enjoyable friendship. still, for some reason, it’s a little tougher to shake off this time than in the past, and he finds that some of their comments have poked at certain sore spots he didn’t even know he had.

he’s uneasy, as he ducks his head and jogs across campus.

it’s probably going to be a very long and very strange weekend.

*

true to form, cadence is beaming when she hops off the bus, the last person to exit the doors that swing open at the campus stop. she’s looking around at everything wide-eyed, like she’s never seen a college campus before, which is hilarious, given that she’s just come from one.

but the tiny performing arts school she attends a few states away is surely at least a little bit different than their hometown state college, a giant university with nearly one-hundred thousand students in attendance.

she rushes over with her duffel and he feels himself grinning back at her as soon as she’s close enough for him to see how bright her eyes are, behind her glasses.

she really is very pretty.

shaking his head, he folds her into the biggest hug he has, making a little oof sound when cadence squeezes him so tightly it leaves him short of breath.

“oh my god, hi,” she squeals into his ear, bouncing up and down on her tip-toes. “i missed you so much. it’s been forever!”

it’s been just about three months, since they said goodbye at her grandma’s house in august the night before they both had to leave to go move in. and while in some ways it feels like they were just together, especially given how they’re constantly in contact, he knows exactly what she means. it definitely also feels like it’s been way too long since he last held her exactly like this.

“i’m so glad you’re here,” he murmurs in return, pulling away to reach for her bag for her. “there’s so much i want to show you.”

“i know!” cadence exclaims, back to smiling at everything again. “i can’t wait to meet all your friends. but -- come on, i’m freezing. first let me see your dorm.”

right. his room. where she’ll be sleeping... with him.

it wasn’t like that’d never happened before. of course it had. you didn’t get to be lifelong best friends without squeezing into a few strange sleeping arrangements. he and cadence had shared a bed, a couch and the same stretch of floor before without even an ounce of weirdness affecting their relationship.

so he can only assume that the reason why it feels suddenly strange, this time, is because of the way his friends had just been teasing him and how uncomfortably close to home some of their comments had landed. 

devon’s voice in particular flashes through his mind again as he does his best not to stare at cadence and her leggings and the sweater that’s slipping off her shoulder: you don’t go through puberty with someone without having at least a little sexual tension with them.

shaking his head to dispel the unwelcome flipping of his stomach, shane jerks his thumbs at the far side of campus with a grin. “right this way.”

*

like always, he finds himself waiting around for her to finish getting ready.

they’re not due at the pregame for another hour, so he’s free to catch up with her (alone, thank god -- evan is meeting them out) while she gets her makeup on, his eyes lingering on the precise movement of her dainty hands applying eyeshadow while she talks a mile a minute about her bus trip earlier that day.

“-- and there was this little girl making bracelets at the terminal, she was so cute. i gave her five dollars and she made me this keychain for my bag on the bus. isn’t it so good?” she sets down her concealer to reach for the beaded lizard hanging off the edge of her duffel. “so cute, right?”

“have you ever gone anywhere without making friends with someone?” shane asks instead of answering, smiling fondly at her. “i swear you could hold a conversation with a brick wall.”

cadence laughs, turning back to the tiny compact mirror balanced on her knees. despite the less-than-ideal environment of his very bare and very poorly lit dorm room, she still looks flawless, brushing highlighter on her cheek until it’s glittering. 

he realizes he’s staring again and averts his eyes guiltily. why does he feel guilty? it’s just cadence. have a few simple months apart made him completely forget how to act around her?

“well, the drive would’ve been boring without anyone to talk to,” she answers finally, “and you were in class.”

“i’m surprised you didn’t bring something to read,” he muses. there’ve been plenty of times he’s had to rip a book out of her hands so she’d pay attention to him and the movie he was trying to show her, after all. 

“god, i just wanted a break from anything academic,” cadence groans, “midterms ruined my life. do you feel like college is a thousand times harder than high school, or is it just me? most of the time i thought everyone had to be exaggerating, but -- i don’t know.” she fidgets on the rug, flicking her eyes up to his. “it’s not like how i thought it’d be.”

shane holds her gaze quietly. college isn’t like how he thought it’d be, either -- it’s actually a little bit better. but it’d be impossible to say so now that she’s admitted she’s struggling.

one thing is exactly like he’d imagined it, though: he misses her just as much as he’d expected to. it’s not easy at all to be so far away from his best friend.

“yeah, i know what you mean,” he says finally, keeping his eyes locked on her even when cadence turns back to her makeup to gloss her lips. “it is hard. and it’s definitely important to take those breaks. don’t worry, we’ll get your mind off of school this weekend.”

cadence laughs, snapping her compact shut and stuffing her makeup back into her bag. “i hope i can keep up with you guys. my school is definitely not a party school.”

“we’ll catch you up,” he promises, grinning at the thought of the evening ahead of them. he’s going to show cadence a good time if it’s the last thing he does. and she has no idea what she’s in for. “don’t worry.”

*

surprisingly, everyone is perfectly nice and normal when they arrive at the pregame. his friends treat cadence like an instant member of the group, like she’s someone they’ve known for years. they welcome her with open arms and start pouring shots down her throat like they’ve done to him so many times before completely effortlessly.

it’s what happens when they get to the party that’s troublesome. 

he’s admittedly a few drinks deep when cadence drags him onto the dance floor. he should’ve known that’d be the first place she’d want to go; all of cadence’s shy little wallflower moments fly straight out the window whenever she’s had so much as a sip of alcohol. 

it’s not his fault he doesn’t manage to stop her. shane’s own head is swimming from the shots he’s had and he figures there’s not much harm in indulging her, but it’s only when they all crowd onto the dance floor and he sees the way his friends are looking at him that he realizes the position they’re in.

“this is awesome!” cadence chirps, angling her head to be near his ear. her arms loop around his neck as she swings her hips to the music. “i’ve never been to a party like this before.”

true, in high school, there were parties like this, but the two of them were never invited to them. they’d gone to prom alone together, and stayed up all night afterwards sneaking sips of alcohol at cadence’s grandma’s while she pointedly went to bed early.

“i’m glad you’re having fun,” he calls back, shuffling awkwardly on his feet in front of her. “do you need a water?”

“no!” cadence’s eyes are bright in the low light of the random living room they’re in, bopping along to the beat. she bounces up and down on her feet, dragging him closer. “you need another drink.”

to say the least. he could probably stand to put some distance between them, too -- get himself a moment of air. shane nods, ducking out from the circle of her arms. “yeah, i’ll be right back.”

he groans as he steps into the kitchen, almost turning around and heading back the way he came; casey and devon are standing in front of the counter. they both give him a pointed look as he slows to a stop in front of them.

“don’t,” he mutters, suddenly feeling very warm from the drinks he’s had and absolutely nothing else. 

“dude,” casey sighs, shaking his head at him, “you guys should probably just hook up and get it over with.”

“okay, that is not helpful,” shane answers, leaning around him to reach for a beer, cracking the tab on the can and taking a big swig in the hopes that it’ll calm him down. unfortunately, his head just spins harder as soon as he swallows. “it’s not a big deal. we’re just excited to see each other.”

there’s a beat before devon answers, eyebrows arched from behind the plastic cup in her hands. “sure.”

admittedly -- the rest of the party is kind of a blur. there’s more drinks and more dancing, and his friends drag he and cadence up on the roof to play some drinking game he doesn’t understand. the thing is... it’s fun, in a way he hasn’t experienced since the summer. sure, he’s been to plenty of parties since the semester started and gone out and gotten drunk and stayed up all night, but...

time with cadence was a different kind of fun. 

having her around, with him at school, filled a void he hadn’t realized he was lacking until she arrived, like he’d simply grown accustomed to a new full-body ache and had only noticed it once it was suddenly removed.

it’d be impossible to pretend not to be endeared by the way she stumbles out of the party and how she hums to herself in the street on the walk home, so he doesn’t bother, slinging his arm around her shoulders to lead her back to the dorm.

while everyone else is arguing about what type of pizza to order, they slip away, and then they’re alone in his room again.

cadence toes out of her shoes and twirls around barefoot across the rug between his and evan’s beds on her way back to her bag. “okay, that was so fun,” she sighs, dropping down onto the floor. “i wish i went to school here.”

“me too,” shane murmurs, watching her pull out her makeup wipes and tie back her hair. his eyes drift over to the twin bed sitting inconspicuously on his side of the room. when he’d invited her up here, he’d assumed they’d both just cram into it like they had so many other times before, in his twin bed at home. now...

now cadence is getting changed into her pajamas with her back to him, and he coughs and does the same, averting his eyes in the dark where he’d never flicked the light on when they got back to the room.

he’s saved from having to think of something to say by the way she crawls straight into his bed and leaves the blanket flipped open for him to join her.

maybe it’s the beer’s fault, that he gets in -- or maybe he has the beer to thank for giving him the courage to get into bed with her, but either way, he does, and within moments he’s nose-to-nose with cadence in the smallest space they’ve ever been in together, and she smiles at him in a way that’s almost unfairly beautiful, for someone who knows him as well as she does.

that’s the thing that’s so unlawful about this: she’s his best friend. she’s been by his side for every single up and down of his life, every moment he was happy or sad or angry. cadence picked him up when he doubted himself, comforted him when he needed it, made him laugh when the world felt ugly and hopeless. 

if he did something wrong now, all of that would go away.

it doesn’t stop her from staring at him, though. cadence keeps her eyes locked on his, and smiles at him through the dark, and evidently he’s the world’s biggest idiot, so he stares back. of course he smiles, too.

“thank you,” she murmurs after a moment, breaking the still silence between them. “i’m glad we did this. i needed this.”

shane swallows, resisting the urge to reach out for her. “you should’ve told me you were struggling. i would’ve had you out sooner. or -- came home, or something.”

she shakes her head. “nah,” cadence whispers, “i could tell you were having too much fun.”

he sighs, giving in and tucking his arm around her back. cadence wiggles closer under the sheets until their knees are touching. “it doesn’t matter how much fun i’m having,” he reminds her, voice as serious as he’s ever heard it before, “because you’re the most important thing in my life. always. and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you.”

cadence blinks at him. her face splits into a beautiful, dazzling smile and then, quickly enough to make his head spin, she leans in and kisses him, closing the last inch of space between their faces.

his palm spreads out over her back and he tilts her in closer, kissing back slowly. part of him knows it’s a mistake, but a larger part of him has thought about this before -- too much, probably, for someone who calls himself her best friend. part of him has imagined it a million times, in a million ways, though none of them compare to this -- the real thing.

in none of his fantasies did he ever think it would feel like it does, comforting and familiar but new and exciting all at once. he’d never assumed kissing cadence would feel as natural as breathing -- but it does.

it feels like something they’ve done a thousand times before, and there’s no denying it’s something he’d like to do at least a thousand times more. his exhale is shaky when they break apart, his eyes sweeping her expression for a sign of regret on her beautiful face.

cadence’s eyes blink open slowly, her smile reappearing as soon as they do. “shane...” she murmurs, and something in his chest twists and then cracks wide open, a swarm of butterflies invading his stomach.

“yeah.” this is insane. what are they doing? they shouldn’t be -- he shouldn’t, really, because cadence is his best friend and he needs her and she is...

she is asleep, suddenly, breathing even and deep with her eyes closed again. the lips he’d just been kissing are parted with a little hitch in her exhales.

he relaxes, slumping back against the mattress.

fuck.

is she even going to remember this in the morning?

studying his best friend, curled in towards his chest and fast asleep without a care in the world, like the entire planet hasn’t somehow just shifted on its axis, he can only hope that she will -- because he knows that tonight, and its many revelations, is going to be impossible for him to ever forget.

not that he’d ever try to. a palm scrubs across his face, and he lays down, resting carefully on the other half of the pillow cadence’s hair is taking up the majority of.

well -- at least they’re together on this one, shane muses, as he stares up at the ceiling and tries to calm down enough to go to sleep. 

no matter what madness tomorrow brings, at least he’ll still be sorting through it with his best friend.

[escher-room-with-a-view]

williams family headcanons

this will focus largely on my HCs regarding the dynamics between different members of sarah’s family. jeremy is also there.

looooong post under the cut!

for much of her life, especially after her mother left, sarah has felt like she hasn’t had anyone to talk to or anyone who cares about her. because of this, she would often keep her feelings to herself because she didn’t think anyone would understand, and she didn’t want to bother anyone who wouldn’t care anyway. it’s this restraint that used to make her feel like lashing out and hurting people whom she knew didn’t deserve it, particularly members of her family. linda was usually exempt from this anger; sarah feels tremendously guilty for her occasional violent desires and is trying to work on them, but she appears to be clinging to the vain hope that linda might someday change her ways and the two can be at peace. even after her journey, she seems to have difficulty accepting that that “someday” might never come.

whether sarah inherited or learned her temper from linda is up for debate; what is known, though, is that it runs in her mother’s side of the family. when the two argued, it was often because sarah felt that linda was putting too much pressure on her or not understanding her. in the heat of the moment, linda has said things once or twice that one can’t exactly take back. sarah once justified this to herself by thinking that she provoked her mother, but she’s coming to realize that it isn’t what she thinks so much as it is what she believes she’s expected to think. either way, it hurts her deeply. in fact, sarah is so close to linda that the idea that her mother can do (and has done) anything wrong still comes as a shock to her. she’s especially inclined to forgive her mother for having been petty and nasty in the past because of linda’s affectionate (and admittedly sincere) way of trying to make up for it. sarah’s RSD is the type that makes her feel enormous relief whenever she has some sort of closure. she can spend days agonizing over the idea that someone might hate her, but the minute she’s told she’s been forgiven or even that the other person was never angry at all, she can let it go in an instant. (in fact, this is partly why she’s so kind to her friends, especially hoggle. she knows how it feels to think you’ve done something horrible and unforgivable, even if that isn’t the case—and she doesn’t want anyone to feel the same way.)

sarah likes jeremy, who is exceptionally nice to her and genuinely wants her to feel included. he does his best to be a “fun” sort of father figure, but also acknowledges that he can’t replace her own father and doesn’t try to pressure her into accepting him the way irene somewhat did when she moved in. in fact, jeremy treats sarah almost like a friend and is more lenient with her even than her own mother. he’s always standing up for her and buying things for her that he thinks she’ll like. the two also have several inside jokes that they find hilarious. in general, whenever jeremy cares about someone, he’s very keen on making it known so that they never doubt his authenticity; this is partly why linda gravitated toward him, as she felt like he was more compassionate and cooperative toward her than robert was, and they had more in common.

sarah wasn’t pressured into sharing her mother’s interest in theatre; it came naturally. though linda had some influence, most of sarah’s special interests developed largely on their own. however, sarah tends to be saddened by the fact that linda doesn’t seem to care about her interests unrelated to theatre and never really has. when it comes to anything she has no personal connection with, linda seems indifferent and unaffected no matter how excited sarah is. linda wishes she could bring herself to care more, but she simply doesn’t know how and in some cases isn’t even willing to put in the work. there are few subjects on which linda and sarah are able to have in-depth conversations; one of these is the performing arts, so whenever sarah is around linda it makes up the bulk of what she talks about. sarah desperately craves her mother’s approval, still blaming herself for linda’s departure, and often catches herself acting in ways she thinks will earn that approval even when linda isn’t around.

this is compounded by the fact that sarah has no way of knowing whether or not robert and irene are interested in her thoughts at all. if they are, they certainly don’t show it. on most occasions that they do show intrigue, sarah has some difficulty not interpreting it as them judging or interrogating her. in other instances, she’s simply gotten frustrated and given up trying to communicate with them because she doesn’t feel like they understand or listen. irene in particular wishes she was closer with sarah; however, the two have very little in common. irene has difficulty expressing warmth toward others’ children and doesn’t exactly know how to foster a good bond with them, aside from disciplining them and following the rules she’s read about in her parenting/self-help books. her collection of these books is enormous; many are under the impression that, because of it, she fancies herself an expert. irene tends to be a bit literal and persnickety with rules. she would like to foster emotional and mental health in both her son and her stepdaughter, in addition to raising them to be upstanding citizens; however, she doesn’t quite know how to do the former and is kind of learning as she goes along. though she has difficulty expressing it, she’s fiercely protective of sarah and would like to shield her from anything that might hurt her.

linda and robert separated partly because they had very different ideas on how to raise sarah. while they both had relatively equal expectations for her, they wanted her to pursue different fields; robert sought to push her in the direction of something more conventional while linda wanted sarah to pursue her dreams in the arts—so long as they aligned with linda’s dreams, as well. however, this was just the tip of the iceberg. in reality, the arguments that eventually led to their divorce (sarah was 10 at the time) began when each parent felt that the other’s career wasn’t supporting them as much as they would have liked. linda and robert had lost the spark in their relationship over time; they simply didn’t connect with one another. the phrase “you’re not the person i married,” or a variation of it, was said often on both sides. when the environment in the williams household became too stressful to her, and robert grew too obstinate, linda decided that she was leaving; this happened after she met jeremy, who understood her in a way that she felt robert never had. the realization that linda was forming a relationship behind his back was, for robert, the straw that broke the camel’s back. i think that when it comes to the relationship between sarah’s parents, the song “moral of the story” by ashe applies pretty well. like, really well.

linda’s love language is giving and receiving gifts. she sometimes sends presents and letters to keep in touch with sarah; over the years, though, the influx of gifts has declined for reasons sarah doesn’t understand. linda is usually just too busy or too forgetful to bother; it’s often jeremy who sends gifts in her stead and apologizes on her behalf. furthermore, it’s made sarah uncomfortable how linda always seemed to expect something back whenever she gave a gift or did a favor for as long as she can remember. sarah considers herself lucky that linda sometimes finds the time to send her mail without having to be reminded. because linda can’t be there to physically provide sarah with affection, she instead appears to use gifts as substitutes. in fact, she’s almost always used material objects to convey the things she couldn’t figure out how to communicate otherwise.

part of what makes sarah feel so angry is, ironically enough, the feeling that she isn’t allowed to be angry. when she gets upset, she wants to mouth off or yell, throw things or hit someone; because all of those things will get her into trouble, and she has some difficulty handling her emotions, she has no idea what she’s supposed to do to not be upset anymore. all she feels like she can do is wait for it to go away—which is not only something that she rarely manages to do, but also something that makes things far worse in the long run.

overall, sarah has a complicated relationship with her mother. on the one hand, the two are very close with one another. linda loves sarah dearly and is immensely proud of her; in spite of all her flaws, she seems to be coming to the realization that she should try and be a better mother even if it’s from a distance, and that just because sarah isn’t physically with her anymore doesn’t make the two any less related. on the other hand, though, linda has quite a few selfish tendencies she hasn’t matured past; her love for sarah doesn’t stop her from using her as a pawn to stroke her own ego. she also isn’t afraid to lash out at her own daughter for bruising said ego, intentionally or otherwise. the only reason she initially considered doing better was because she didn’t want sarah to stop talking to her entirely, though she’s begun considering the principle of it all. it would be interesting to juxtapose linda’s selfishness with sarah’s at the beginning of the film, with the implication that linda is the way she is today because she never got what she needed in the past and/or made the conscious choice to put herself before other people—but sarah doesn’t have to be the same. in fact, throughout her arc it’s proven that she won’t be the same—not only because her journey provides her with courage and her friends provide her with support she may not have and otherwise, but because she chose actively to be a kinder person out of compassion and not because she feared repercussions.

sarah’s insistence that linda has never done anything wrong ever is almost certainly denial. logically, sarah knows that some of linda’s actions have been wrong; that doesn’t stop her, however, from scrambling for a million different ways to justify it. part of this can also be attributed to what sarah feels is an unspoken rule that forbids her from being angry, especially toward the people whom she loves and who love her most; she wants to say that linda has hurt her on several occasions, but doesn’t know how to communicate it and is afraid of setting off some sort of nightmarish consequence. as such, she settles for trying to rationalize it when no amount of explanation can make it okay.

linda is also fiercely protective of sarah and doesn’t want her falling in with the wrong crowd by any means. it does sadden her that sarah doesn’t have many friends (at least to her knowledge), and she’s always encouraging sarah to put herself out there; however, a small, wicked part of linda has wondered if it would be better if she just had sarah all to herself.

sarah has felt ever since the divorce that, to her father, she’s more of an inconvenience he has to “deal with” than his actual daughter. of course, robert doesn’t see her that way; but he doesn’t know how to communicate with her or connect with her, as much as he’d like to, which results in a wall between them. despite this, she does know that he loves her and is doing her best. as bad as it makes her feel, she explains it to herself by saying that she sometimes wishes his best was better.

i personally interpret sarah putting away linda’s pictures at the end of the film as her realizing that there’s someone else who has no power over her: her mother. granted, sarah doesn’t destroy the pictures because she still loves linda and hopes she gets better as a person. but the fact that she puts them somewhere safe can be thought of as symbolizing how she isn’t going to let linda manipulate her anymore and it isn’t her responsibility to help her get better—let alone be her personal echo chamber. sarah has decided, in my opinion, to keep a reasonable distance from linda (to the extent where “i can talk to you, but you can’t hurt me”) until she can be certain that linda has changed. in particular, sarah feels safest interacting with her mother when jeremy is present, as jeremy isn’t afraid to come to her defense and has made linda reconsider her behavior on several occasions. i also think it could be interesting to contrast maria’s fierce and unconditional love and linda’s genuine, but often self-serving and distanced love toward her own child.

sarah remembers her family being happy before things went downhill and still finds it difficult to grasp the fact that it wasn’t her fault in some way. when her family tells her that, she doesn’t think they’re telling the truth. when her classmates tell her it wasn’t her fault, she feels like they just don’t understand.

robert feels like he didn’t pay enough attention to linda’s needs back when the two were married, and he thinks that’s most likely the reason she left. to make up for what he perceives as his neglect of his ex-wife, he does his best to make irene feel like a queen.

i think of sarah and toby when i listen to “evelyn evelyn.” i’m not sure exactly why, but it would make a good comic or animation someday.

i also made picrews!

post-canon!sarah - in this one, she’s about 16. i always loved the idea of her just deciding to cut her own hair one day and her parents being shocked about it. shorter hair is also especially conducive to speedrunning the labyrinth every other week

link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/1272810

adult!sarah - my headcanon is that she was a stage actress for a while and later went on to have a film role, but eventually decided that the life of an actress wasn’t for her and settled down to become a college drama professor. once she cut her hair as a teenager, she never went back. her family was frustrated by it until she got older and they mellowed out about it because they realized there was really nothing they could do

links (in order): https://picrew.me/image_maker/457566 and https://picrew.me/image_maker/696219

adult!toby - i don’t know why, but i feel like he’d be really into alt fashion. like i think sarah would introduce him to her punk and hair metal vinyls one day and he’d just latch onto those and never let go. i also think that he didn’t leave the labyrinth unchanged, and sarah does her best to help him readjust and cope with it all; i’m tempted to also headcanon him as ND, so it’s possible that she’d be able to relate to him a lot in the future and that would make things easier for him

link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/696219

sarah and toby! i think they’d get along really well as toby was growing up, with sarah telling him these wonderful stories and playing fantastical games with him and whatnot. she’d have some of influence on his taste in music and books, too, i think, as explained above. but because of the whole “evelyn evelyn” thing i’m considering incorporating some degree of angst into their relationship when they’re adults. i do have an idea, but i’m not quite ready to spoil it yet! i’ll wait until i manage to draw At Least One Thing for it!

link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/399481

[lo-55]

Tilt The Hourglass Ch. 7

Maul had been many things in his life. 

Student, Assassin, Sith- hopeful, Madman, Crime Lord, Ruler of Mandalore. 

Now he could add corporate spy to that list.

Joy.

Maul found Kenobi and Si Treemba sitting together in the battered mess hall that the Monument was equipped with, each with something suitable for their species. Zabrak were technically omnivorous, but his particular brand had an affinity for meat. They were hunters first and foremost. They both had their heads down, and Si Treemba’s green skin was pale with his anxiety and disappointment. A plate of dactyl and fungus sat in front of him. 

Maul sat next to the pair, and scarred the life out of the both of them. He caught the elbow Kenobi threw at his face with ease. He peered at the jedi, unimpressed. 

“You look like someone pissed in your moof juice,” he said before Kenobi could do something silly like apologize. That didn’t stop the little jedi from looking contrite. 

“We had no luck. Did you?” 

Maul lifted his shoulder. “I found the thermocoms, in a vat of lubricant. So they’ve been recovered but there’s no way to tell who took them. Fingerprints and DNA would have been wiped away. The hutt’s are on a rampage, too. They’re ready to kill someone.” 

“I see,” Kenobi’s shoulders slumped. “If only…” 

“Mmmm?” Maul prompted him while he stole Kenobi’s dinner out from under him. The boy was so sad he didn’t even fight him. Or maybe Kenobi was just a push over right now. 

He looked guilty of something too. 

“It was just a thought I had. When Jemba was threatening everyone. Why didn't Master Jinn just use his lightsaber to cut him down? He’s a cruel person and a criminal, and he won’t stop hurting people. Master Jinn could have stopped it, but he chose not to. I just wonder why.” 

Maul paused, his stolen dinner halfway to his mouth. 

It was disconcerting to realize that Kenobi had had the same thought that he’d had. 

It seemed like every time they interacted like this Maul was thrown off course. Kenobi was not chosen by Jinn. Kenobi was willing to kill someone just like that, however he might justify it. 

Kenobi mis-read his expression, because the little jedi sunk lower in his chair. 

“I suppose that’s not the jedi way, but we’re supposed to defend the defenseless and seek justice in all things.” 

Maul mentally gagged. Familiar anger bubbled up under his skin, beneath the scars that Sidious had left on him. If the jedi had found him they wouldn’t have helped. He was too dark, wasn’t he? Too tainted. At best they would have sent him Dathomir to be a slave to the Nightsisters. He had been defenseless and they had never defended him. No one had. 

“There is no justice in this galaxy,” Maul told Kenobi darkly, his yellow eyes burning. “Not unless you make it yourself.” 

Kenobi looked startled at him, but Maul didn’t pay him any mind. He shoved food in his mouth. 

Si Treemba watched him eat, his eyes on the salt resting on the table. That was right. It was a rather horrible drug to them, wasn’t it? 

Maul paused. 

Maybe he should just poison the hutts and he could convince Jango to leave this job early and go find his brothers? Hutt’s were hardy, but Maul was creative. Starship fuel would do it, right? And he could certainly make it look like an accident… 

“You know,” Kenobi said suddenly, “there‘s one think I don‘t understand. Jemba puts on a good show. But I sense he‘s afraid of Clat‘Ha and the Arconans. And the mandalorian too.” 

“Jango,” Maul corrected, “Jango Fett. He would be a fool not to fear him. Mandalorians are powerful warriors, capable of going toe to toe with jedi. Don’t they teach you history in that fancy temple of yours?” 

Kenobi made a face at him while Si Treemba swallowed a mouthful of dactyl and fungi. 

“We think you‘re right, Obi-Wan. He fears us. Even though it is not our intent, he knows we will destroy him one day.”

“How is that?” Obi-Wan asked.

“In Offworld mining, the chiefs and overseers make fortunes, while the common workers make nothing. Many of them are slaves. But at Arcona Mineral Harvest, we have no chieftains, no overseers. Each worker shares in the profits. This did not bother Offworld until Clat‘Ha began to expand our operations. So she contacts the better workers at Offworld. If they are slaves, she offers to buy them and set them free if they will work for us. If they have signed work contracts, she offers to buy the contracts. Now she has the support of a mandalorian and she is more a force than before.”

“That sounds fair,” Obi-Wan said.

“It is fair,” Si Treemba agreed. “That is exactly why Jemba fears us. Many good workers wish to join us, only the bad will stay at Offworld.” 

“I see,” Obi-Wan said, touching his chin in a familiar gesture. “So in a few years, Jemba will have only chiefs with no one to boss around. He‘d hate that.”

Si Treemba grinned, then turned serious. “But Jemba has stalled us. He has raised the price on labor contracts and slaves. We can no longer afford to hire Offworld workers.”

Maul quietly filed that information away. He had no love of slavers, and freed slaves were loyal to a fault. He could use that to his advantage.

(Maul ignored the little voice that was starting to sound annoyingly like Tano, or perhaps Ezra, that pointed out that he had been little better than Sidious’ slave once. He was a darksider, he didn’t need weaknesses like sympathy.)

 “It’s no surprise. Hutt’s run the crime empire in the outer rim. Of course they’ll use glorified slave labor for legitimate businesses too. Does Jango know all this?” 

Si Treemba shrugged. “We thought you would know. He is your guardian, isn’t he?” 

Maul curled his lip. “I need no guardian, and I am no Mandalorian.” 

“Ah. We are sorry. We had heard that Mandalorians were fond of children.” 

“I’m not a child,” he snapped irritably. “But you are not wrong. They’ll adopt anything that moves if given the change.” 

“I heard Mandalorians were killers for hire, a violent race that tried to conquer the galaxy,” Kenobi said quietly. 

Maul snorted. He wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“Mandalorian isn’t a race. It’s a creed. Anyone who swears the Resol'nare is Mandalorian. I haven’t, and he hasn’t adopted me, so I’m not a mandalorian.” 

“You are a simple zabrak?” Si Treemba said dubiously. 

Maul flashed him his sharp, gap toothed grin. 

“Not hardly. I am a-” dark sider, crime lord, warrior, assassin, “Nightbrother.” 

Si Treemba grimaced. “You should keep yourself hidden from the Hutts then, Maul. We understand that Nightbrothers are very prized on the black market.” 

Kenobi looked ill. He pushed the rest of his plate towards Maul, who had no qualms finishing the bird. Perfectly at ease, he kept talking while he ripped the flesh apart with his sharp teeth. He was still getting used to the feeling of his eye-tooth being missing. Zabrak had a few extra teeth than humans, but his hadn’t even started to come back in, leaving a fleshing gap in his mouth that he kept worrying with the tip of his tongue. It tasted faintly like blood even though it had stopped bleeding some time ago. 

“I’m aware. The Nightsisters breed us to be strong and resilient, among other things,” Savage hadn’t enjoyed telling him about their homeland, but Maul had learned on his own. He learned much on his own after the rise of the Empire, about the sith and the Nightsisters both. Some of it was useful. Most of it would have had Kenobi pale and puking if he knew what his people were capable of.  “Slavers from Rattatak tried to steal me once, for a warlord there,” he added idly. 

“And you escaped?!” Si Treemba stared at him in shock. “We know Rattatak is a dangerous place. They have gladiator tournaments and many civil wars.” 

“It wasn’t that hard. There was only a small force, and I was not alone for it.” 

Maul looked down at the bones on the plate. Wasn’t Ventress on Rattatak now? Or if she wasn’t she would be soon. Maul wasn’t even certain she’d been born yet. Or would be, if he arrived on Dathomir before she was born. He could not promise the survival of all the Nightsisters if his brothers were not in top shape. Talzin may or may not have been his mother, but he would not allow harm to his brothers go unpunished. 

How much would that change? How involved in the galactic plan had Ventress been a part of? She had briefly ruled Rattatak, before being made an apprentice to Dooku, who was in turn an apprentice to Sidious. Had that happened yet? Was Dooku still a jedi master? 

Time travel was just one headache after the other. 

“Still. We think it is very impressive. There are many brave people on this ship,” Si Treemba said with a small smile. Kenobi returned it weakly. Maul tried not to roll his eyes. 

Si Treemba was far too easily impressed. 

Kenobi too. Shouldn’t the jedi have prepared him better for this? 

In fact, shouldn’t the jedi have sent him with an actual guardian, instead of on his own? Jinn certainly didn’t count. The man was much more useless than Maul had initially thought. He’d respected him for his fighting prowess, and for raising a jedi as good at fighting as Kenobi was, but how much credit did Jinn actually deserve, if Kenobi was here on his own? 

“We should tell the others that you found the thermocoms,” Kenobi suggested. 

“I already told Jango.” 

He’d looked exasperated by Maul going off and doing investigating on his own, but hadn’t scolded him in front of Clat’Ha and Jinn. Even if he had, he wasn’t Maul’s father. Maul owed him a small debt, but that was all. 

That was all. 

“Oh.” 

Maul eyed Kenobi speculatively. “Why aren’t you training to become a knight?” he asked suddenly, the question that had been bothering him for hours. Surely nothing Maul had done would change Kenobi’s life up until this point. Which meant that his Kenobi, the one he’d fought for decades, had had this happen to him too. He’d been sent away from the temple. He’d been assigned a farming job. And somehow he had returned to the temple, made a master out of Jinn, and become a powerful duelist as well. 

Kenobi jerked back like Maul had come at him with a knife instead of a simple question. Maul could taste Kenobi’s disappointment, fear, and insecurity. And there, at the center of it all, was anger. Maul had gotten him angry before. Enraged over the death of his loved ones. This was a different kind of anger. 

Maul carefully prodded at Kenobi’s mental shields. They weren’t as strong as they would be in the future, and Maul had to be mindful. His own shields were still ragged and being built back up, but he would need more time to get them back in shape. 

Maul hid a grin. Kenobi looked away from him, down at the table, and fiddled with his sleeve cuffs. 

“I would rather not talk about it,” he said quietly. “The temple decided that I wasn’t fit for- for the role of a knight. That I would be better suited to serve in other ways.” 

“As a farmer.” Maul said dubiously.  

“Yes,” the word came out sour on his tongue, “The agricorps are an important, honorable way to serve the galaxy.” 

Kenobi’s declaration sounded utterly hollow. Maul propped his chin on his hand and his elbow on the table with a ‘thump’. 

“Nearly everyone needs food to live,” Maul conceded. “But you don’t want to be a farmer, do you little jedi?” 

Kenobi shook his head miserably. 

“No.” 

Maul watched Kenobi squeeze his eyes shut, his face flushing under his freckles, before he drew his shoulders back and sat up straighter. His expression smoothed, at least a little. He hadn’t perfected his sabacc face yet. 

“But it was decided by people wiser than I am. And it was my own fault so-” 

“So here you are.” 

“So here I am.” 

Si Treemba, who had been watching the pair quietly, piped up. “We are glad you are here, Obi Wan. We are proud to be your friend.” 

That, at least, got a smile out of Kenobi. 

“Thank you, Si Treemba. And thank you too, Maul.” He must had seen Maul’s confusion. “For helping us. You didn’t have to.” 

Maul huffed at him. “Of course I didn’t have to. But I’m stuck on this ship with the rest of you. If war breaks out it might be inconvenient.” 

The pair looked at eachother, then at Maul, and started laughing quietly. 

Maul stared at them blankly. 

He hadn’t been joking! 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Maul really needed to find a place that was private, where he wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone. 

He was getting tired of only having a blaster and a knife. He wanted his lightsaber back, and unlike jedi he didn’t need to waste his time exploring some overglorified ice cave to get one. He could make his own crystals, and he had his whole life. 

His original crystal, the very first one he’d ever made, had been made from necessity. He’d been sent to kill a reclusive jedi master, Siolo Ur Manka. He hadn’t been able to, and when he was forced to flee he drew upon a design he’d found in his masters sith holocron. A blue print left from the weapon of Darth Zannah, Bane’s apprentice and an unbeatable combatant. 

It took him four days to properly craft the crystals, two for each one. He had entered a deep meditation, one that almost killed him with dehydration. He’d been sustained by the darkside and his own feelings. In the end he had used the trick of the second blade to run Manka through. 

That lightsaber had served him well until he’d lost it after his duel with Sidious on Mandalore. Now, surrounded by hostility and in the presence of jedi, he felt its absence much more acutely than he had on Orsis. It’s weight had always been a comfort on his hip. Even in those years lost to madness he had kept it with him in a box in his scrap cave. 

He wished, sometimes, that he had taken Sidious up on his offer to name it. 

“It, like myself, is nothing more than a tool in your fist. It is undeserving of the honor of a name. Let it be nothing more than what it is. An instrument of murder, and nameless.”

Still true. Maul was an instrument for murder, an accumulator of power, but it was under his own authority now. Not Sidious’. 

His name was his own, whether his mother had given it to him or Sidious had bestowed it upon him, he took it and made it his. 

Maul. 

Now, years later, Maul had learned how to make a lightsaber crystal in less time than two days. He only needed half of a day to make one now, and a furnace to provide heat to the raw materials. 

Those materials, raw minerals and stones, were easy to find on a mining ship. A furnace would be easy too, for the same reason. Miner’s kept small ones with them for any number of reasons, and ships themselves usually had very hot engine’s he could utilize.

The problem came with the face that Maul couldn’t find a moment of peace. 

A strange thing for a darksider to seek. Sith did not seek peace, but Maul required privacy at the very least to do this, or he would out himself to both jedi and Fett as well. 

He was not interested in that at all. Too many complications. 

Anything he needed to build the ‘saber itself was on the ship too. He’d made a small bag of pieces he could use. Spare pieces of mining equipment, ship parts, bits of weapons he’d taken the liberty of removing from the whiphids, would all come together to make a perfectly functional lightsaber. 

While Maul wouldn't be able to conceal his saber in a cane anymore, Jarrus and Ezra were wonderfully creative. When Maul had had his fake legs he’d kept his saber in one of them for a time, before he was old enough to warrant a cane. 

Now neither of those were options. 

Maul ended up patted Jango on the shoulder at breakfast. 

“I’m going to go sit in the vents,” he said, the truth. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

Jango narrowed his eyes at Maul. 

“Are you… okay?” 

Maul was fairly certain that he meant mentally or emotionally. 

“I’m fine. Don’t wait up.” 

Jango caught his shoulder before he could leave completely. 

“Maul,” he said, his voice gentling again, “If there’s anything you need, you can tell me. I’ll do my best to help you.” 

Maul really didn’t understand him. Maul was no mandalorian, and he really could handle himself, even if Jango didn’t understand that. Jango had no obligation to him. Maul was just some rabid zabrak that had fallen out of a vent and tried to strangle him. He’d known him less than a week, and already he wanted to help him recover his brothers. 

He wanted to adopt him for Force sake! 

Against his will Maul felt some tension bleed out of him. Jango was genuinely concerned, but also amused. Others might not have given him the same freedom that Jango did. But Mandalorian children were independent too, if not as independent as Maul was. He’d been self reliant for so long. 

“I am fine. It isn’t something to worry about…. Well. The Jedi might worry about it,” he admitted, tilting his head. 

Jango’s mouth twitched towards a smile. “Don’t get into any trouble you can’t get out of.” 

Maul snorted at him. 

“Give me some credit,” he chided. 

Jango patted his head, mindful of his horns. “Of course. You could take the whole Galaxy by storm if you set your mind to it, couldn't you?” 

Maul was aware he was teasing. That didn’t stop the vicious grin from curling on his face. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said again, and left Jango in their shared room. The man was reluctant to eat outside of it, or remove his helmet anywhere on the ship. Maul doubted he was one of the more hardcore Mandalorian’s who never took it off unless in the presence of family, so it must have been healthy caution. 

Maul made sure no one else was looking before he crawled into the vents. One good thing about this ship being so dilapidated was it made it easy for a small zabrak to get around unseen. 

He made his way to the engine room. 

The engineers were keeping a decent eye on things, but they missed Maul picking his way to the sublight engine. While the hyperdrive was engaged it wouldn’t be used to propel them, but it would still be kept running so it could take over in case they dropped out of hyperspace unexpectedly. 

Maul searched until he found the hatch that led to the firing cells. They helped dispurse the heat created by the engine inside, to keep it from melting under the sheer force of fission reaction that happened inside. If they were out of alignment the engine would overheat and explode. 

Maul used the Force to keep the heat inside when he pulled the the hatch open, and used it again to guide the particles inside the firing cells. With part of his focus on keeping the raw minerals, small quartz, carbon dust, and simple coal, in the center of the firing cell Maul scampered back into the vents, out of sight. 

Then he focused. 

Trusting the unrest of the ship to hide his workings from Jinn, and trusting the Kenobi was too caught up in his own turmoil to notice either Maul closed his eyes and focused. 

Piece by piece he pulled the pieces together and drew heat around them. 

Maul reached into the ocean of his being. Deeper and deeper, past the darkest parts of his being, until he found the harsh center where lava made of rage bubbled lazily. Waiting for his use. 

Maul gripped that heat and pulled. 

Anger twisted in his grasp and steadily wrapped around the components of his crystal. Layer by layer, he added more of himself and more of his anger. Anger as jedi, for never coming for him, for discarding Kenobi’s potential. Anger at Dooku and Vader for taking his place. Anger at Sidious for a life time of torment and pain. 

Anger at himself, for not taking his life into his own hands the first time. For not saving his brother, or Kilindi or Daleen. For failing his men. For failing his own ambitions, and letting himself be struck down by the same man twice. 

Maul breathed in, and along with that anger came threads of something else. 

Maul had always drawn on his anger and ambition to drive him, but something else seeped into his mind. 

Kilindi. Daleen. Savage. Kast. People he had failed once. People he would not fail again. 

His hearts twisted hard in his chest. Never again would he allow himself to fail his people. They were his. They belonged to him. 

Their lives were his. Their future was his. Their goals and dreams belonged to him. His to ensure, his to defend, his to push them towards.

His. 

Slowly, inside the firing cell, the components started to split into two distinct crystals. 

Offense and defense. Anger and determination. Vengeance and loyalty. 

Sweat beaded across his brow and the heat increased. 

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

Through passion, I gain strength.

Through strength, I gain power.

Through power, I gain victory.

Through victory, my chains are broken.

The Force shall set me free.

Maul poured himself into the firing cell. Each sliver of stone fitted together and sealed with the fires of his being. 

Piece by piece. 

Maul forced them together, under the head and pressure of his anger and need. A new heat wrapped tightly with the rest as a part of him he’d half forgotten existed cracked open and bled into his crystals. 

Gold eyes snapped open and he sucked in a ragged breath. 

The engineers had changed. He didn’t know how long he’d been in that fiery state. Maul waved shaking hands at the engineers, who had the sudden idea to go get caf while he stumbled messily into the engine room. 

His hands were tremblings. 

Maul barely had the energy to open the valve and float his crystals out into his waiting palm. He barely noticed how hot they were when they dropped into his black tattoed hand. 

Two crystals. One red, the other scarlet. Just a shade of difference, but enough to catch his eye. 

Maul carefully pocketed the two crystals and stumbled back to the vents. He was utterly exhausted, physically and mentally, but he felt more stable to have the stones against his thigh. 

Jango came back to the room to find Maul passed out on his bunk, sleeping like the dead. It was the most relaxed he had seen the boy since he’d been nearly comatose on their way to Coruscant.  

If it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest he might have panicked and dragged him to the medical bay. 

As it was he settled on the bunk on the other side of their small room and watched the boy rest. He may not know what had happened, but he knew that tension had risen high on the ship today, and he had the inexplicable feeling Maul was responsible for it. 

He would have let him sleep, but at that exact moment the ship lurched and alarms sounded, blaring red lights through the room. 

They were under attack. 

[mfingenius]

Any modern lamen will do, but make them drunk!

TW: MENTIONS OF CSA

Laurent doesn’t drink, much less get drunk. He loathes the loss of control, the feel of it reminds him too much of living with his uncle, tongue thick with the taste of wine and limbs heavy, until he’d been too out of it to do anything.

Tonight, however, he goes to the bar with one sole purpose. To get drunk.

He’d heard of the scandal, of some kid named Nicaise up in Arles, suing his uncle for child abuse. Laurent read it on the news, that morning. Everyone in the media had seemed to be surprised; how could this be true, the News reporter had asked, when he’d taken such good care of his darling nephew, when he was around Nicaise’s age?

His darling nephew, Laurent, the only heir to an endless fortune left by his family. His darling nephew, Laurent, whose entire family died in a car crash when he was ten. His darling nephew, Laurent, who’d run as far from Arles as he could get - Ios - the moment he’d turned eighteen and never returns now.

The press had called him ungrateful, then. Problematic. A stone cold bitch, not visiting the only family he had left alive.

Laurent wasn’t surprised. He is, however, incredibly guilty. It piles on top of his lungs, his brain screaming at him that if he had told someone he could’ve saved this kid, could’ve saved countless others, probably, that it was his responsibility to stop him.

Because Laurent doesn’t want to think of that, and because his brain won’t stop screaming it at him, he orders three tequila shots, drinks all of them one after the other.

Then he orders three more.

“Might want to slow down,” A voice remarks mildly, and Laurent turns to look at the man sitting beside him; he is Akielon, that much is evident. He has dark skin, curly hair, and is built much taller than Laurent is, and at least three times as wide.

Laurent wants to kiss him, if only to make sure he hates himself a little more in the morning.

“I don’t want to slow down,” he says, and damn, he’s already slurring. He takes another two shots, but doesn’t immediately take the third because the world spins.

“Clearly,” The man says. He orders whiskey, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up, revealing tanned arms - and this man looks way too fancy to be hanging out around here - and looks at Laurent. “I’m Damianos. Damen.”

“Hello, Damianos,” Laurent says, tipping the still-full shot glass slightly before forcing himself to drink it; he should stop now. It’s never been hard to get him drunk, and he’ll be vomiting all night if he keeps going.

He doesn’t think he cares.

“So,” Laurent says, signaling the bartender for another shot. The bartender looks lightly troubled, but he brings Laurent his drink. “What are you doing here, then? What sorrow are you drowning?”

“I’m just hiding,” Damianos says. His face looks incredibly familiar. “Papparazzi never seem to find me here.”

Laurent snorts, resting his cheek against his hand, slipping lightly. “What are you, famous or something?”

“Something like that,” Damianos’s smile is a politician’s, all honest happiness and fake honesty. “What about you? What are you doing here?”

And Laurent is reminded of the exact thing he came here to forget; it doesn’t hurt as much, like this, removed from himself. The pain will be there in the morning, twice as bad, but honestly there’s a point where it hurts so much that ‘twice’ doesn’t matter, because it was unbearable to begin with.

“Doesn’t matter,” Laurent slurs lightly. He takes the shot the bartender had handed him, and then tries to stand up from the stool. He sways, falls, almost, but Damianos catches his arm. He’s warm. “Are you into men, Damianos?”

Damianos narrows his eyes lightly. “I am.”

“Good,” Laurent says. He licks his lips. “Fuck me.”

Damianos gives him a disbelieving look, and then shakes his head.

“You are the most gorgeous man I have seen,” Damianos assures him. Laurent smirks lightly. He’s used to hearing that. “And under any other circumstances, I’d be flattered. But you cannot consent like this.”

Laurent laughs, hollow. “Consent? Damianos, do you think men before have cared about my consent?”

Damianos’s hand tightens on his arm enough to hurt, and Laurent’s eyes close with the pain. This, this is what he deserves. He deserves to be hurting.

“I’ll take you home,” Damianos tells him. “Just tell me where to drive you.”

Laurent refuses to. Even like this, even drunk, he doesn’t want anyone knowing where he lives.

“Take me home,” Laurent whispers, body close to Damianos’s and suddenly desperately alone. “With you. I’m - I’ll be so good, you won’t ever want anyone else.”

Damianos’s hands tighten on his body again, and he does take him home. They make it to the master bedroom, sheets white and mattress impossibly soft when Laurent lies on it. Instead of joining him, though, Damianos covers him with the blankets. He puts a pillow under Laurent’s head, and runs a thumb across his cheekbone in a way that seems fond.

“Goodnight,” he says. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

And he walks out of the bedroom. There, alone, Laurent cries.

—————————————-

Send me a Request :D

If you enjoyed this, please consider buying me a kofi

Masterlist: [1] [2]

Commissions