#I was tempted to make Error's chocolate

[luminousjellyfishy]

More writing!!!!

This one has been in the works for a while, but it's finally here!

~

Truce Talk

Characters (all Sanses from UTAU/MV): Dream, Ink, Nightmare, Error, and Ccino (in passing)

Word count: 4828

Trigger warnings: Swearing, threats of death, amnesia (kinda?)

Summary: Dream and Ink don't know if it was a mistake to meet Nightmare and Error here in Ccino's café. It's so public and there are so many innocent people that could be killed. What if something goes wrong? This wasn't a good idea. Oh, well that's them walking through the door, so it's too late to turn back now.

~

Both Ink and Dream sat on one side in a booth at Ccino’s café, anxiously awaiting the arrival of their long-time enemies. Dream sat against the wall of their shared side, fidgeting with his hands, seemingly unable to sit still for even five seconds; whereas Ink, sitting near the aisle, was uncharacteristically still.

“Where are they? Are we just early, or are they late? I wouldn’t think the latter would be true since Nightmare had never struck me to be the kind of person to allow himself to be la-”

“Dream. Stop rambling like that, I’m sure it’s fine. Remember, they agreed to meet with us in the first place. They’re probably just running late… or using this time as a distraction for us, so they can go destroy universes while we’re sitting here waiting for them…” Ink interrupted, trying to calm his friend, but trailing off at the end nervously. This thought hadn’t yet occurred to Dream, so hearing it from Ink made him doubt his decisions to be here even more so than he already had been.

Ink’s head fell dramatically to the table, resting in his arms and sighing loudly, drawing a glare from Dream.

“Is being here even the right choice? How do we actually know that they’ll even consider forming a truce?” Dream exhaled deeply, moving from fidgeting with his fingers to playing around with the napkins.

“We don’t. That’s the thing. We can’t know for sure that they’ll consider it, in the same way that they can’t be sure that this isn’t some elaborate plan for an ambush.” Ink shifted his head, looking up from his arms to glance at Dream before closing his eyes and sighing again, clearly bored.

There was no response from Dream, the only noise being the ambient sounds from the other patrons.

The silence between the two continued for a short while until the bell on the front door chimed and all sound in the café ceased as they watched who walked in.

Dream stiffened as he could feel the two negative auras approaching from behind them. He was internally scolding himself for choosing to sit with their backs to the door, having wanted to seem like they trusted the two not to hurt them.

But he didn't trust them. Not in the slightest.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, both Error and Nightmare slid into the booth seat across from them, with Nightmare closer to the wall. Ink finally straightened, feeling apprehensive about having them across from him in such a casual setting where people could be hurt if something went wrong.

“Hey, losers.” Error snickered once they had settled, his face as mocking as it always seemed to be.

“Don’t be rude, Error. What did we talk about?” Nightmare scolded, a quick glare shooting into Error’s direction. In response was the most crude mocking of Nightmare’s words that Error could muster.

Nightmare rolled his eyelight, then said, “My apologies for being so late, I spent some extra time with Error this morning in order to make sure he wouldn’t make such a fool of himself… although it seems my efforts were rather pointless. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed, so once Cross pointed out what time it actually was, we hurried right here.”

“By ‘hurried here’, he means that he took less time than usual to get dressed, go downstairs, get the morons in line, and make sure that no one has any plans to burn the house down while we’re gone.” Error said nonchalantly but joking at the same time, as though this was what happened every day.

Dream’s face must have been one of confusion because Error asked, in a surprisingly genuine tone, “What? Does Blue not try committing arson every time you leave him alone?”

Ink blinked a couple times, eyelights changing colours rapidly, then laughed louder than was actually necessary.

“No?? I can say for a fact that he does not.”

Error didn’t say anything, just scrunched his ‘eyebrows’ and face into a contorted look of confusion, scoffed, and shook his head.

Before their conversation could continue any further, Ccino showed up beside their booth, pen and notepad in hand.

“Hey guys, it’s nice to have you all here! Also, Error I didn’t expect to see you back so soon, but it’s great anyways! Alrighty then, what can I get you guys?” Ccino asked the group, a bright smile on his face.

“Can I have a strawberry cream frappé, please? They’re so good!” Ink exclaimed, his eyelights taking on various shapes in pink and yellow, and slight drool forming in the corner of his mouth.

“Sure thing, extra whipped cream I’m guessing?”

“Of course!”

“A cinnamon apple tea for me, thanks. Oh, but could I also have a chocolate chip cookie?” Dream inquired, eyes lighting up as he thought about the delicious sweetness of the cookies Ccino sold.

“Yeah, we can totally do that!” Ccino replied, smiling softly then turning over to Nightmare, “What about you?”

“Can I just have a regular coffee?” He asked simply, glancing up at Ccino as he spoke.

“Boooooooring.” Ink interjected quickly.

A soft laugh then, “Yup! And what about you, Error?”

“Uhhhhhhhmm, I guess just a hot chocolate..?”

Ccino began to speak, but was quickly interrupted,

“Oh stars, you're so pathetic sometimes. Just tell him that you want a cookie as well, we all know you do.” Nightmare said tauntingly, grinning over at him with a teasing smile.

Error stared at him, mouth agape and eyes wide, a very slight yellow over his cheeks that you would have to strain to see.

Turning his attention to Ccino briefly, he said reluctantly, quietly, and very unlike himself, “… fine… can I have a chocolate cookie as well?”.

Ccino laughed, “Of course! I probably would have brought one over without you asking anyways - I know you love them so much.”

Error nodded, but looked away sheepishly.

With that, Ccino walked away with his notepad back to the counter, humming as he went.

Error’s attention was turned quickly back to Nightmare, giving him the dirtiest glare known to exist.

“You bastard! Why did you say that? Seriously what the actual fuck is wrong with you?!” Error said suddenly to Nightmare, trying his very best not to speak too loudly as to disrupt the other patrons.

Both Ink and Dream giggled at not just the sudden outburst, but the context behind it. Error’s eyes quickly darting over to them; a warning that they should keep quiet. Their giggles were very quickly stifled, and they looked away uncomfortably.

“Oh, Error, be serious. You and I both know that you are physically incapable of going without chocolate for too long. I was just preventing you from making a scene later, whining about how much you want some.” Nightmare replied quickly, a knowing smile on his face as he shook his head and laughed. Error glared at him, seemingly stabbing him with his mind.

“You really like chocolate that much?” Dream inquired with a nervous smile, apparently very intrigued by the thought of Error liking something so simple as chocolate. The attention of the two bickering skeletons were drawn towards the guardian of positivity, having been caught slightly off guard.

“Yeah, so what? Do you have a problem with that?” Error asked, shrugging and staring at Dream, his previous annoyance directed at him now.

“No no no! There’s no problem with it! I just didn’t expect it was all!” Dream replied quickly, raising his hands defensively. Error rolled his eyelights and said nothing.

Silence followed, although it was deafening among the four.

“Soooooooo, since it’s getting way more obvious with every word you two are saying, we hardly actually know each other. Should we do… I don’t know, mini fake introductions? Before we get to the real reason for meeting, anyways.” Ink said suddenly, breaking the silence before it got too awkward. This quickly drew Dream’s attention, since it might be able to give him the opportunity to make new ties with his brother again. The thought made him smile softly, reigniting his hope for this meeting.

“I suppose. It would make sense to know one another before blindly going into something that may or may not be weighted in favour towards certain people.” Nightmare replied, his ending comment being pointed towards Dream with a quick glance that said he was not happy.

Error groaned obnoxiously at the fact that he would have to do more talking, but was quickly interrupted by Nightmare lightly smacking the back of his head.

He quickly turned his head to glare at Nightmare, saying, “You really have no idea just how lucky you are that I’ve been having a good haphephobia day, because if I wasn’t?” a small laugh, “boy, you’d be DONE.”.

Nightmare didn’t even look at him and just laughed, quickly rolling his eyelight in amusement.

“Okkkkk, maybe we should get to the point. I’ll go first because it looks like you two are about to kill each other and Ink will just keep talking forever. So, as you know, I’m Dream. Um, my favourite colour is cerulean, not yellow haha. It’s my favourite because it just looks so peaceful and quiet, so I just really like it a lot. Don’t get me wrong, yellow is a great colour and it’s my second favourite, but cerulean is just so pretty. Also, I looooooove sweets. Lollipops are the best candy and no one will ever change my mind.” Dream started quickly, interrupting Nightmare and Error, and finished with a smile at the thought of candy.

Error stared at him incredulously for a second before asking, “The fuck is cerulean?”.

Dream’s face quickly shifted to one of surprise; Ink looked like he had been personally offended; and Nightmare just looked disappointed, placing his head in his hand and pinching his nasal ridge.

“Error. Please tell me you’re joking.” Ink seemingly begged him, hoping desperately that he did in fact know what cerulean was and was just playing around. He knew deep down that he wasn’t though.

Error just stared at the three of them, trying to prompt an answer.

A sigh from Nightmare, then, “Error, what colour are your tear streaks? Be specific.”

“... Blue??? How much more specific can I be with that?”

“Error-” an exasperated sigh, “Yes, your tears streaks are blue, but specifically they’re cerulean.” Ink explained while shaking his head slowly in disbelief.

“Pffft, if you say so.”

A momentary beat of silence.

“Stars, very well I’ll go next. As you’re all well aware, my name is Nightmare. I enjoy reading in my spare time and have quite the collection of books-”

“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. You’ve got the biggest library I’ve ever seen; the morons have literally gotten lost in there.” Error quickly intercepted.

“Hush, that’s not what we’re speaking of. Anyways, I believe that I’ve done enough to introduce myself, how about you, Error?” Nightmare said, a sly smile creeping up his features.

“Oh, yippee fun. Whatever. Um. I’m Error, and I uh… like… chocolate?? What the fuck else am I supposed to say? You already know that I destroy AUs, so what else? Um? I crochet? Man this sucks, I’m done with this shit.” Error said, stumbling and glitching through his words, and making it more and more evident to Ink and Dream that he doesn’t talk to people much.

“Wait wait wait wait wait. You crochet? You create? I didn’t think you’d ever do something like that!” Ink asked ecstatically, his eyelights taking on the forms of bright yellow stars.

“Yeah? I make scarves and stuff. I don’t know. I make puppets too, like sewing or whatever.” He responded, clearly not having expected this kind of reaction and not knowing how to proceed.

“That is so cool!!! You’ll have to show me sometime! I’d really love to see!” Ink replied eagerly, lighting up even more so than he already had.

There was no real reply from Error, just awkward murmurs as he tucked the lower half of his face into his scarf as his glitches increased substantially.

Dream smiled to himself softly in amusement, never having expected to see this softer side of Error before. To him, Error had always been a powerful monster with little care for who got hurt in his rampages, but seeing him like this now made Dream question his whole perception.

“Anyways! I’m Ink! As you obviously know! I mean, if you didn’t I’d be pretty concerned because I’ve fought you so many times and you totally couldn’t forget me. Right? Anyways, let's not go there. Uhhhhhh, I do a lot of artsy craftsy things, but my medium of choice is oil paint! Granted I do love painting in general and also charcoal! Oh! And even regular pencil! You can get so many different results with so many different things! Man, I don’t know if oil paints are my favourite. There are so many choi-” Dream reached over and grabbed his face and muffled whatever he tried to say next, which was a lot because he didn’t stop.

After a short while, Ink finally realized that what he was saying wasn’t getting across, so he stopped talking. Dream was finally able to remove his hand, however he had the most exasperated look on his face. Nightmare just looked on in amusement, and Error looked like he wasn’t even paying attention, likely listening to the Voices.

“Are you done?” Dream asked him, staring daggers and daring him to keep going.

“... fine.”

“Can we get to the point of this meeting? Or shall we waste more time speaking of art supplies?” Nightmare asked, his amused expression having morphed into boredom.

Dream started, “Oh, yes. Um, yes of cours-”

“Here are your orders, guys! Sorry I took so long, the cats made a mess of the flour, so I had to get that cleaned before any orders could go out.” Ccino said as he stood by their booth, setting down their drinks and cookies.

Nightmare looked over to him, “It’s no problem at all, thank you.”

“Mhm, thanks Ccino.” Error mumbled, still slightly in his own head.

“Thank you! I appreciate it!” Dream chimed in.

A small beat of silence as Ccino prepared to walk away.

A sudden movement, then, “Oh! Uh, me too! Thanks!” Ink said quickly while rubbing his ribs where Dream had elbowed him.

Ccino laughed and then said, “It’s no problem at all, thanks for coming here!”, before walking away.

Nightmare picked up his cup and began sipping, clearly not caring that it was hot. Ink stirred the whipped cream into the rest of his drink and took a large sip, smiling and relishing in the taste. Dream stirred his drink softly, then let it sit to cool for a moment. Error sat still and stared out the window towards the street, his eyelights having taken on a hazy appearance.

Naturally, Nightmare noticed this and set down his drink, turning towards the Destroyer.

“Error? Is everything alright?”

Nothing much changed, just Error’s still hazy eyelights shifted to him, indicating that he could hear him.

A soft sigh, then, “Error I just need you to breathe and to focus. Ok? Try and tell me things that you see.” Nightmare said in a calm, quiet voice that seemed very out of character for him.

Error’s sockets blinked a few times as he looked around, his eyelights gaining some clarity.

“... café booths and cats. A couple of them. Um. Dream and Ink in front of us… why are they here? Why are we at Ccino’s?” Error asked shakily through a glitchier than normal voice, clearly not remembering about the potential truce.

Both Dream and Ink looked on in concern and slight shock. They obviously hadn’t expected this from Error of all people. While they were aware he wasn’t the most… stable monster out there, forgetting something like this in such a short amount of time with seemingly no prompting wasn’t what they had imagined.

“It’s alright, we’re at Ccino’s to discuss a potential truce, do you remember that? They made the offer to us before a fight could break out between our two groups in Underflowers. They proposed we meet them here today so we could consider. Do you remember what we’ve said so far?” Nightmare said, not paying any attention to Dream or Ink, instead calmly petting Error’s head in a soothing manner with a tentacle.

Error took a few deep breaths and blinked a few times in rapid succession before saying, “Um, yeah I think so. It was mini introductions, right? Apparently… um… oh, cerulean is blue, and uh, I couldn’t really come up with things to say and then Ink got all excited because I mentioned that I crochet… um.” He trailed off for a moment, “There was something after, but I’m not sure. Oh, uh Ccino came by with our stuff.” His eyelights darted around, before they found his drink and cookie.

“Yes, exactly. The part that you can’t remember was Ink’s ‘introduction’, he was just rambling about art supplies, it truly wasn’t much.” Nightmare replied, his tentacle still petting the top of his head.

“... Right. Oh, yeah. Fuck.”

An awkward silence passed between them as Error looked between Dream and Ink in what seemed to be a mixture of horror, shame, and embarrassment.

“Are you alright?” Dream asked quietly, concern written all over his features.

Error stiffened, and avoided looking at Dream, “Yeah. I’m fine. It just happens every now and then. It’s whatever. Can we get back to the point?”

A small beat of silence, before Ink said that they probably should.

No one spoke.

“Oh for fucks sake. Fine, I’ll start us off. What do you expect from us for this truce? We can’t just stop what we do because it would disrupt the balance into chaos, so what do you want?” Error snapped, clearly in a rather foul mood after what had just occurred.

Ink winced before hesitantly asking, “What would happen exactly if you stopped destroying? I’m just curious.”

A quick roll of his eyes before he said, “Like I just said, it would cause chaos. For our balance, it could potentially be kept within the quarter ranges instead of perfectly balanced at half… but that’s not ideal. If I stopped destroying, the Multiverse would fill and just keep filling with nothing to keep it in check.”

The only response he got from Ink was question-mark shaped eyelights.

“Ugh, alright think about it like this. Imagine a balloon.”

“What? A balloon? That’s random.”

“No, it isn’t, shut up. Imagine you have this balloon and you’re pumping air into it. You keep pumping in more and more air, so what happens?”

A thoughtful expression crossed Ink’s face before once again settling on confusion.

“It pops?” He asked, clearly not understanding what revelation Dream had just come to that he should have also had.

“Yes, exactly… What aren’t you getting?” Error said, not understanding what was so difficult to comprehend with his very simple analogy.

“You threw me off with balloons. All I’m imagining is a room full of giant balloons now.” He stated simply.

Error’s head fell to the table and he groaned in annoyance.

“Why are you like this? The balloon represents the Multiverse. The air is the AUs. Too many AUs and they’ll push against each other, inevitably causing the collapse of it all.” He explained with his skull still resting on top of the table, clearly tired of this interaction.

There was silence as Ink took this in. Once the information finally seemed to sink in, he abruptly got up from the table and made it a whole two steps to the washroom before he puked.

There were multiple cries of disgust and outrage as Ink vomited his namesake onto the floor, not having been able to cope with the information that he should have been very aware of.

Ccino came over with a mop quickly after Ink began calming down, and offered a soothing pat on the back before guiding Ink back to the booth. He began cleaning up the mess before any of the cats got the idea of trying to lick it.

“Are you alright?” Nightmare asked, his ‘eyebrows’ scrunching in what could have been concern, confusion, or disgust.

A nervous laugh came from Ink before trailing off into silence.

“... You know what? Um, actually. No. Not really. I didn’t realize that it was even like that. Honestly, I didn’t think it was infinite, but I really didn’t think that it would collapse. I just thought that… I don’t know, that maybe any potential creations would just be put on a waitlist or something instead of entering the Multiverse.” Ink said very shakily and unsure. His eyelights were a purple broken heart and a blue inverted triangle.

“Don’t you ever feel extra lethargic at some points? Like you don’t want to move and if you do it almost hurts?” Error asked him, looking extremely unimpressed with the entire conversation so far.

“Well, yeah obviously. Those are the days when you have your mega destroying sprees. I always feel bad because I’m way too tired to even try stopping you.” He replied, ashamed with this admittance.

“You do know that you don’t feel like that because I’m destroying, right? You feel like that because the Multiverse is too full at that time. Making you that exhausted is its way of coping with the over-abundance of AUs by having its Protector too tired to do their job. By not allowing you to protect, it lets me destroy a shit-ton of those anomalies.” Error said as he tried getting his point across.

Dream had taken to fiddling with the napkins again and Nightmare was gazing around at the other customers, taking in their various emotions.

“Wait hold up, so you’re actively destroying when you feel that tired? Wow ok I definitely underestimated yo-”

Error groaned as he cut him off, “No, you fucking moron. I don’t get tired when it’s too full, that would be stupid. I get tired when it’s too empty. It sucks because trust me, I’ve tried working through it. I’ve tried to destroy those stupid glitches even though I’m exhausted.” A sharp laugh, “I’ve only gotten to that point once though, and it really sucked. I eventually got so tired that even just moving my phalanges caused me to crash. Yeah… that sucked big time.”

“Anyways, for the sake of this whole…” A dismissive wave of his hand, “Truce thing. You should avoid encouraging the Creators to create when it’s verging towards full, and I’ll try and keep it balanced instead of on the emptier side like I usually do.” Error said quickly before falling quiet to pick up his drink.

The four were silent for a while, taking some time to enjoy their cooled beverages and cookies.

Finally, it was Dream to break the silence, “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but do you forget things like that oft-”

Error let out a sharp laugh before saying, “I am not talking about this with you. Not now, and likely not ever.”

Silence again.

It was Dream again to speak first saying, “Alrighty then... Well, brother, I’m sure that you’re aware of our balance to maintain and that you've purposefully spread Negativity despite that?”

Nightmare looked away sharply before slightly nodding.

A soft sigh, then, “Ok well, would you be open to maybe… not doing that? I understand that you believe that there should be a surplus of Negativity, but there really shouldn’t b-”

“Yeah, I mean think of when all the apples corrupted! All the villagers got way pissier than normal because of the surplus of Negativity in the AU!” Ink exclaimed, proud of himself for this amazing and wonderful realization that he thought would be a great idea to say aloud.

Unsurprisingly, both Nightmare and Dream stiffened.

“Um, wait, should I have not said that? I feel like I shouldn’t have said that…” Ink said, trailing off nervously and looking between the twins with light blue question mark eyelights.

“It’s fine, you’re correct in saying that. I hadn’t put the two together, but having it pointed out to me is… troubling. To say the least.” Nightmare said slowly, unsure of himself at this moment.

Nightmare took a deep breath and sighed, clearly not happy with what he was about to say.

“In my spare time, I’ve been keeping detailed reports on the emotional balances within the Universes. By doing so, I can track which ones are suitable for my Negativity intake and which ones need more of a… push. In the event of a truce, then I’ll only alter the Negativity cores… Oh, Ink, cores are the AUs made with a certain emotional trait as their primary factors, like Horrortale or Underfell for Negativity and Haventale or Underswap for Positivity.”

Ink gave a thumbs up in appreciation.

“As I was saying, I’ll refrain from touching the Positivity cores as much as I can and only alter them if the balances begin to tip.” A quick beat of contemplation on Nightmare’s part before continuing, “Actually, Dream. I believe that it would be wise regardless of a truce or not for you to make your own records as well.”

Dream startled, then said, “Oh, actually I have kept some… in a way. Not in the same way that you’re describing, but more so in that I was keeping track of which AUs you and your group attacked. It would let me know where I needed to visit to imbue more Positivity.”

“Is that what you’re always writing about whenever we get back from fighting?!” Ink exclaimed far too loudly, drawing the attention of the other patrons.

A sigh, then, “Yes, Ink. I’ve told you this before. Several times. Whenever you ask. Which is every time you see me writing them.”

“Oh.”

“Ughhh, I’m so bored. What would we get out of this if we agreed? Like yes. I know there are balances to be upheld but come onnnnn, we need some sort of incentive!” Error said out of nowhere, groaning loudly to convey his annoyance and boredom.

“More incentive than the Multiverse not collapsing??” Ink asked incredulously.

“Did I stutter?”

“Ughhhh, man I don’t know! Uhh, how about making me happy? That seems like a great reason!”

Error just squinted his eyes and shook his head in sheer confusion, “Why would I do anything for that sake? That’s so stupid.”

“If you agree to the truce, you’ll be able to destroy the crowding Universes without interference from Ink. You already understand that you’re physically incapable of destroying them all, so all you would need to agree to is to refrain from tipping the balance too far from the center. For the Universes that you do destroy, then I can assure you that neither Ink, Blue, or myself will try to stop you.” Dream cut in, a slightly exasperated look on his face.

Error seemed to contemplate this for a moment, but remained silent.

“As for you, brother, this truce will help keep your gang members safe from unnecessary harm. I know you put on the face of being uncaring and cold, but I see the way you act around and protect them. It will also give you more time to yourself.”

Nightmare refused to make eye contact with the other, staring down at the table and his tentacles curling behind him.

“Damn those sound way better than just making me happy.”

Dream groaned and put his head in his hands.

A deep sigh from Error, then, “Alright. I’ll accept this stupid ass truce.”

“As will I.” Nightmare grumbled, tentacles still curled tightly behind himself.

“But listen, the second Ink tries getting in my way again, it’s done. Also, if he’s ever annoying, I will kill him. Not that it makes a difference… soulless bastard just comes back.” Error said curtly and glaring at Ink.

In response, Ink just giggled and said, “Yup! That’s meee!”

“Alright, I suppose that’s fair. Just no unnecessary torture, if you’re going to kill him, get it over with quickly.” Dream said as he shook his head, never having expected to be condoning Ink’s death in this manner.

“A similar rule applies to you, Dream. If you interfere with my Negativity cores in any way, the truce is off. Just as you’re expected to follow these conditions, Error and I will uphold our end of the deal by refraining from tipping the balances unnecessarily.” Nightmare added, clearly unhappy with the whole ordeal, but accepting on behalf of some… external factors.

“Of course, I would expect nothing less.” Dream looked around the table, “So it’s agreed?” He asked, smiling softly.

Nightmare winced as his brother’s positive aura grew as the potential future where they could all get along seemed to be drawing nearer and nearer.

“Yup!”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

[empress-simps]

Just a blurb on how I imagine the marauders would be like when reader is study. Not like I’m projecting or anything and I’m not totally wishing the marauders keep me company while studying.

Study Buddies? Yeah No

Pairing: Poly Marauders x GN! Reader

CW: Use of “dollie” by Sirius and that’s pretty much everything? Unedited so there might be typos/grammatical errors.

Libraries were one of your sanctuaries— along with the astronomy tower in the wee hours of night, and the common room where the cackles of fire magically lulls you to sleep and relax.

With NEWTS just around the corner, best believe you’re in the library 24/7 except when it was time to eat (Lily, Marlene, and the boys had to drag you away from the library) and when it’s curfew. (Again, they had to come and get you)

“Draught of the living dead… where is it?” You mumble to yourself, flipping page after page of the comically large book in front of you.

You were drowned in piles of books, and immersed in the scratching of your quill against the parchment. Hastily jotting down information, you didn’t notice your boyfriends entering the library— looking for a specific target of their affections.

“Where’s dollie?” Sirius asks, looking around trying to spot you hunched over, surrounded by books, and muttering to yourself like a madman.

“They’re not in their usual spot.” James frowned, seeing your favorite spot was taken by a random Ravenclaw bloke.

“Over there.” Remus nudged his boyfriends, motioning for them to look at the tables near the windows, lo and behold— you were there studying. Just like how Sirius exactly pictured it.

“Merlin, they’re not giving themselves a break.” James shakes his head, walking up to a clueless you while Remus and Sirius followed suit.

“Hey lovebug.”

It was like you were broken out of a spell, you whipped your head to your side to see James making himself at home and hugging your side while nuzzling your neck.

"Jamie? Remmy? Siri? What are you guys doing here?" Now, it's not like you were annoyed they were there; it was just that their presence was a delightful distraction you hadn’t anticipated.

James ignored your question, focused on nuzzling you while Remus rolled his eyes playfully at Prongs’ antics.

“Taking you away from this,” Sirius said with a grin, waving his hand over the sea of books. “You’ve been cooped up here too long, dollie. Might start turning into an old book too.”

“Excuse me?”

Remus decided to step in before another stupid thing comes out of your boyfriend’s mouth. “We’ve brought you some chocolate. You know, for brain food.” He placed a small, wrapped package next to your inkwell.

“Aw.. you guys..” You beamed a smile to your lovers, appreciating their efforts. Leaning to them and giving them each a kiss on the cheek, it felt like the heavy burden and stress of school was momentarily lifted off your shoulders.

“I know, I know. No need to thank us, babe.” Sirius waved you off jokingly, you rolled your eyes. “You guys are impossible.” But they didn’t miss the small smile on your face.

He shrugs, taking a seat across from you as Remus followed him. “Sounds about right, and Prongs, stop hogging her!”

“Never!”

Before they can even whine argue, Remus piped up. “We’ve planned a little stargazing break at the astronomy tower tonight. Just the four of us.”

The idea was tempting, a perfect way to unwind. Humming, you thought about it, tapping your finger against your lips, “Alright, but only for a little while,” you conceded, already imagining the quiet comfort of the night sky and your three boyfriends.

As you packed up your things, they each took a book from the pile, helping you tidy up and return the books to their rightful shelves. With one arm around James, a chocolate from Remus in hand, and Sirius leading the way with his usual dramatic flair, you left the library behind, the promise of laughter and starlight guiding you to your next sanctuary.

[scarlet97531]

Now Nightmare’s spidey team is assembled they can start investigating the sudden gathering of spider outcodes in 928-B! (They get there first because Night’s got a lot more extra magic than Dream to spend on monitoring the multiverse(also Nightmare’s gonna have to bribe Error with a ton of chocolate and undernovella merch to keep him from just destroying the whole place))

(((I’m tempted to try to make a little comic with error and miguel but that would be a lot of work so idk)))

((((Cross isn’t here cuz I usually make him neutral, he lives in the omega timeline and has friends from both the bad sanses and the stars))))

[vidavalor]

I know you're writing a meta about it & I can be patient. 😁 Just tell me if you think they had a plan in The Final 15?

Hi there. 💕 *makes you hot chocolate with marshmallows while you're kind enough to be interested in my ramblings and to wait*

Best I can tell, yes, they each have a plan ahead of the "no nightingales" conversation and I'm pretty sure I've worked out what those plans are. (I am about 99% sure on Crowley's and about 90% on Aziraphale's.) The heartbreaking thing is that they are very, very, VERY similar plans... just with one key-- and actually really romantic-- difference. Both plans make a lot of sense, are deceptively simple, and are also based on prior stories we've seen in both seasons, if you want to start guessing while I'm working on the meta. 😊

They're both trying to covertly tell one another their plan but a series of unfortunate events and just really common human errors cause them to not understand for a time that each other even realizes that there is danger in the first place and they need to form a plan together. They basically accidentally convince one another that they are speaking in earnest when they're really actually both trying to convince each other that there's trouble and of a plan.

As a result, they wind up arguing over misconceptions of what the other is saying and neither of them realize the extent to which they're both really trying to sacrifice for one another. The nature of what they're talking about causes their worst fears to get in the way. They start to believe that each other thinks things about them that they actually do not and they get upset over not being heard. Aziraphale is tempted to go to Heaven if it's real-- because he can't not choose a situation that could allow him to make Crowley safer-- but he also doubts that it's real in the first place and he has a plan that Crowley can't hear him trying to say because Crowley is too convinced that Aziraphale is completely in earnest about what he's saying, which just gets Aziraphale angry and frustrated. Crowley feels the same way because the same thing is also happening in reverse.

They're both missing things about what each other was saying that, when they are able to speak freely and work through this in S3, will have them both swooning.

Preach it, Inspector Constable. You nailed the whole damn thing lol.

[solidwater05]

I dreamed that a teacher took me and some other students out of the classroom because we got some packages, and we had to choose from a bunch of items ranging from food to shaving cream. At first I was gonna take a toy car but I looked at the rest of the things and decided to take a very tempting chocolate, and a PS4 controller to hopefully replace the messed up one I have irl. That controller also had drift (I checked by connecting it to my phone, which was lagging a lot because it's too old to run the entire PS4 system) but I decided to keep it because it didn't seem as bad as the one I have irl

When I came back to the classroom, it was my grandma's living room, and Pheriya was giving a lesson on magic math. They showed some sort of polynomial, I only remember the top part. It was, roughly:

X^6 ± X^8 * ^²

The ± is a placeholder, I don't remember what went there.

For the tiny numbers that I can't for the life of me figure out how to say in English (X² <- like that little 2), I don't remember the exact numbers or placements but I know there was a 6 and/or an 8. I think the 8 became a 6 when you solved it? (note: only one step was done in the dream and it looked far from solved)

The empty space wasn't an error, it's actually a pretty vital concept for magic math. In order to avoid confusion, blank spaces (read as 'empty', I think) could be represented by a symbol. Imagine the Aries symbol (♈︎) but upside down and shorter.

[ID: An anchor-like shape, with two upward curves coming out of a short central line. All the lines get thicker in the end, forming some sort of bulb-like shape. It's slightly tilted to the right. /End ID]

They said that you were supposed to write it mirrored (tilted to the left instead of to the right) once you solved everything

The reason why Pheriya didn't use the symbol at first was because she wanted everyone to be intimidated first and then explain it and make it easy to understand, to motivate students to not be afraid to learn magic.

Also, Pheriya never explained the properties of empty. It wasn't a number but it could interact with numbers, but I figured that out from watching her solve it.

I remember thinking that Exclamania's magic system was very impressive and elaborate

[nobully]

There's no way in Hell she could possibly handle doing this face-to-face. Gift giving for reasons other than manipulation is an entirely unfamiliar act! Having received his gift early that morning, she had laughed at the sneaking suspicion that they were handmade after spotting a few errors... and then promptly freaked out when it suddenly hit her how much the thought of that, meant.

By that afternoon, a sleek, white box featuring the gold lettering of an expensive brand etched across the top was left in front of Wang Yi's door along with a note tucked under the red ribbon wrapped perfectly around it. Inside are an array of colorful alcoholic bonbons of varying shapes and designs.

The note reads: ❛ It's not handmade, because I'm not a magician, but I hope you like them anyway. I know you said you weren't drinking anymore, but we both know that's total bullshit. Anyway, happy love day or whatever ♥ ❜ and strangely, sprawled at the corner of the card as if added last minute, ❛ P.S. Thanks for the strawberries. They're delicious. ❜

'That—seriously, even after I told her I'd stop!'

Sigh.

'...they do look pretty good though.'

He'd returned from his trip around the wards and a lunch break to see a beautiful box sitting gorgeously outside his room. Internal yelling aside, Wang Yi had snatched it up and ran inside before anyone else came down the hallway, feeling unsurprised but no less anxious when he saw that she was the sender.

'Is, is she saying I'm a magician for dipping some fruit in chocolate? Wait, how'd she find out in the first place...?! Did they taste off or something?'

He frets over her note, but of course it gives no clues. It doesn't seem to be a bad thing since she'd called the strawberries "delicious" as well, but Wang Yi can't help but wonder.

He's been...wondering a lot about her these days, actually.

Sometimes it feels like walking on a tightrope; other times like they're two peas in a pod. He thinks he can guess her perfectly, but then she'll suddenly switch gears and he's lying on the dirt wincing from her latest verbal punch in the gut.

His eyes trail over to the open box of chocolates, their fun shapes and packaging perfectly concealing their true natures. Bonbon bombs in ball dresses, his brain suggests, and if that didn't describe Nicolette to a T. A sweet and pretty exterior, but hiding potent liquid within. Red wine, he thinks, but it's so easy to confuse that with blood and well, both taste intense...

His vision swims. Shit.

'What am I feeling right now?'

'What do...I want?'

Is it because they're both not normal? Even that isn't the right word.

He means "boring," probably. Or predictable. Same. Safe.

Nicolette has never been any of those things. Even when she was carting him away from certain death, there was always the cold, hard uncertainty of whether they'd make it past the next wave, or sand dune, or copse of trees. Her moods could be a crapshoot on a regular day too—his gauge for measuring others always seemed to backfire for her. In the end she was a drop of ink in his blank, white heart, dyeing it in all the darker colors he'd tried to mute in his head.

The night that swallows the moon. The rain that drenches the sun. The kiss that—no, that one doesn't count, because there were no feelings behind it.

It'd been exciting sure, but it was never physical contact that tempted him and to his relief, they'd left it at that. Whatever his body experienced didn't really translate into long-term emotions. Rather, it was watching the reactions of others and seeing them feel what he couldn't that drew him in.

Prodding them. Provoking them. Making them subm—

Wang Yi bangs his shins against the table as he straightens his legs with a start.

'...fuck.'

The pain clears his thoughts, but his face is still turning scarlet as he turns to look at the chocolates. Suddenly they seem way too vibrant, as if the colors themselves are laughing at him for not realizing it sooner.

'I'm...not a weirdo. I'm not...'

But all he can see is that red, red wine, and the amethyst of Nicolette's eyes and hair, scarlet and purple mixing together so smoothly, so seamlessly, to create an incredible hue all their own.

Like ink.

[sparktober]

It's back: Sparktober Bingo! 🥳

Like last year, I collected a bunch of 2022 -tober prompt lists into one google doc here. (Links to original prompt lists, where you'll find their hashtags and AO3 collections, are on the google doc! The prompt lists are top-notch this year so I highly recommend checking out the originals.)

Add in a list of Atlantis episodes, crank up the soft-serve machine, and…

How to Play:

Choose a mix of “flavors” from the prompt sets below the cut, then paste it into this fandom bingo card generator.

Adjust your browser size til it looks right and take a screenshot!

Sparktober Bingo Rules: (there are no rules)

Complete a row/column, corners, or a blackout of your card by November 1, or not! Update as you go. Spontaneously declare victory whenever you feel accomplished.

Tag #sparktober if you want us to reblog your bingo card & creations!

All fan-works are allowed: art, edits, fic, meta...

You are allowed to pull multiple cards until you get one that inspires you, and you can also edit the prompt list as much as you want in advance to suit your likes and dislikes. I recommend not googling unfamiliar words from your work computer.

Because we are sourcing from multiple lists, prompts may be duplicated and occur more than once. If you get the same prompt twice in the same card, you're legally obligated to fill it. (definitely kidding)

Use the prompts liberally! Episode titles can be treated as the episode or as generic prompts (e.g. “Epiphany” can be for an episode-related fic or a prompt for an epiphany of your choice).

Flavor descriptions:

The prompt lists are below, in the following text blocks. Copy any or all of them into the bingo card generator!

VANILLA: Gen prompt lists from Fictober, Inktober, Flufftober Trektober Gen, Trektober Trek, and Spirktober.

CHOCOLATE: Smut themed prompt lists from Trektober NSFW and two Kinktober lists (links in google doc!).

ROCKY ROAD: Whump prompts from whumptober! The multiple-choice-prompts-per-day have been broken into individual prompts.

ASTRONAUT ICE CREAM: Atlantis episode list (in order, in case you only want to copy certain seasons), along with Atlantis and SG-1 characters and a few franchise-specific prompts.

TWIST: All of the above! For this flavor, copy and paste everything below the readmore. :)

Mod note: If you're mixing and matching, make sure there's a semi-colon (;) between your prompts. If you have semi-colons without prompts, you might end up with blank spaces. If you get a server error when using the bingo card generator, have some ice cream and try again!

Enjoy!!!

Vanilla;

“I chose you.”; “Nobody warned you about me?”; “That was not my intention.”; “How would that even work?”; “No, anything but that.”; “Adaptable, I like that.”; “Check that again, are you sure?”; “Do you remember?”; “Sounds like a you problem.”; “It’s my name on the line.”; “Think! For once!”; “You’re making my head hurt.”; “I don’t want you to do that.”; “Yes. No. I don’t know.”; “What are you doing?”; “You’re looking, but you don’t see.”; “Are you serious?”; “I don’t think this is your problem.”; “Do we have a deal?”; “There’s only us.”; “I never said that.”; “Who said this is a good idea?”; “Not on my watch!”; “Is this safe?”; “You know I’d do anything.”; “I’m doing it, shut up.”; “That’s not why we’re doing this.”; “We all have our reasons.”; “You love this, don’t you?”; “I know what this looks like.”; “I’m not alone and neither are you.”; Gargoyle; Scurry; Bat; Scallop; Flame; Bouquet; Trip; Match; Nest; Crabby; Eagle; Forget; Kind; Empty; Armadillo; Fowl; Salty; Scrape; Ponytail; Bluff; Bad Dog; Heist; Booger; Fairy; Tempting; Ego; Snack; Camping; Uh-Oh; Gear; Farm; Wearing Each Other's Clothes; "You've told your parents?"; Thick as Thieves; Supporting Silly Quirks / Hobbies; "Oh no, you're a Morning Person!"; Candles, Lanterns, Fairy Lights; Movie Marathon; Shooting Stars; Game Day (Sports); Love Language; Poetry, Art, Music, Craft; "You kept this?"; Secret Family Recipe; Truth or Dare / 20 Questions; Accidents don't just happen accidentally...; "I hate you" - "I love you too"; Animal Shelter; Soulmate AU; Hot Chocolate; Bedtime Stories; Kiss for Good Luck; "Have you heard?"; POV Outsider; All the Hugs; First Dance; Blankets; Reunion; Picnic; Leaves; Dear Diary; A Sweet Treat; Slow Dancing; Caught in the Rain; Falling Asleep Together; Up Against the Wall Kiss; Winning a Teddy for the Other; Hands; Sparring; Away Mission; Underwater; Chess; Rank Swap; Dancing; Shore Leave; Regency AU; Mindmeld; Date Night; Flirting; Snow; Hiding; Comfort; Touching; Hair; Kissing; Protect; Garden; Pon Farr; Fantasy AU; Spooning; Mirrorverse; Old & Married; Time Travel; Feline; Royalty AU; Injured; Home; Costumes; Phobias; Vampire AU; Cottagecore Vibes; Secret Relationship; Meet Ugly; Love Letters; Coffee Shop; Historical AU; Only One Bed; Monster Hunters; Fake Dating; Panic Attack; Autumn; Internet Friendship; Hurt / Comfort; Marriage Proposal; Anniversary; Secret Identity; Band AU; Sleepy Kisses; Clothes Sharing; Witch AU; Deities AU; Old Married Couple; Sickfic; Soulmates; New Neighbours; Time Travel; Farm AU; Hiding Injuries; AI Malfunction; Series Crossover; Biobed; Promotion / Demotion; Emotionally Compromised; Spacewalk; Crew As Family; Space Madness; Red Alert; Academy Era; Hostile Aliens; Mirrorverse; Away Missions; Aliens Made Them Do It; Shuttle Crash; Gamma Shift; Strange Energies; Annual Physical; Transporter Malfunction; Stranded; Court Martial; Observation Deck; Wetsuits; Prison Planet; Escape Pod; Bridge; Decontamination; Out Of Uniform; Transmission; Section 31; Captain's Log;

Chocolate;

Collars; Humping; Costumes / Roleplay; Lace; D/s; Bottoming From The Top; Safeword; Trick or Treat; Body Worship; In A Vehicle; Somnophilia; Overstimulation; Temperature Play; Intercrural; Friends With Benefits; First Time; Morning After; Fucking Machine; Tattoos / Piercings; Mirror Sex; Striptease; Possessiveness; (Semi) Public; Wall Sex; Body Swap; Nipple Play; Sexting; Fingering; Sex Fails; Aphrodisiacs; Biting; Stripteases; Lapdances; Lingerie; Sending / Receiving Suggestive Imagery; Seduction; Dirty Talk; Dancing; Marking Territory; Caught In The Act; Infidelity; Cuckoldry; Making Someone Jealous; Hate Sex; Angry Sex; Break-Up Sex; Sparring; Using Weapons; Orgasm Denial; Restraints; Multiple Orgasms; Overstimulation; Threesome or Moresome; Pampering; Servicing; Morning Sex; Clothes On; Lovemaking; Erotic Massage; Solo Sex; Mutual Masturbation; Baths / Showers; Keeping Quiet; Food; Blood-Drinking; Oral Sex; Drunk or High Sex; Multiple Rounds; Mirror Sex; Exhibitionism; Public Sex; Getting Loud; Costumes or Masks; 69; A/B/O; Anal; Breath Play; Breeding; Cockwarming; Costumes; Creampie; Double Penetration; Drunk Sex; Erotic Photos; Exhibitionism / Voyeurism; Face Sitting / Fucking; Fisting; Group Sex; Bath / Shower Sex; Licking; Bondage; Boot Worship; Dirty Dancing; Nipple Play; Object Insertion; Food Play; Outdoor Sex; Pet Play; Sexting; Sensory Deprivation; Formal Wear; Body Worship; Public Sex; Dirty Talk; Floor Sex; Glove Kink; Missionary; Leather / Latex; Morning Sex; Sex Toys; Voice Kink; Stripping; Spanking; Rimming; Hate / Angry Sex; Dry Humping; Love Bites / Marks; Overstimulation; Intercrural Sex; Pegging; Lingerie; Masturbation; Mirror Sex; Praise Kink; Phone Sex; Orgasm Denial; Tender Sex; Sex Pollen; Wax Play; Stockings; Strap-Ons; Table Sex; Temperature Play;

Rocky Road;

A Little Out Of The Ordinary; Adverse Effects; Unconventional Restraints; "This wasn't supposed to happen."; Nowhere to Run; Cornered; Caged; Confrontation; Hair's Breadth from Death; Gun to Temple; "Say goodbye."; Impaled; Dead On Your Feet; Hidden Injury; Waking Up Disoriented; Can't Pass Out; Every Whumpee's Needs; Blood Loss; Running Out of Air; Hyperthermia; Proof of Life; Ransom Video; "I've got a pulse."; Screams from Across the Hall; The Way You Shake And Shiver; Shaking Hands; Seizures; Silent Panic Attack; Everything Hurts And I'm Dying; Stomach Pain; Head Trauma; Back from the Dead; The Very Noisy Night; Sleeping in Shifts; Tossing and Turning; Caught in a Storm; Poor Unfortunate Souls; Taser; Whipping; Waterboarding; "911, what's your emergency?"; Sloppy Bandages; Self-Done First Aid; Makeshift Splint; What Could Go Wrong?; "Mayday, mayday!"; Cave-In; Rusty Nail; Can't Make An Omelette...; Fracture; Dislocation; "Are you here to break me out?"; Die a Hero or Live Long Enough to Become a Villain; Desperate Measures; Failed Escape; "I'll be right behind you."; Emotional Damage; Lies; New Scars; Breathing Through the Pain; No Way Out; Mind Control; Paralytic Drugs; "No one's coming."; Hanging by a Threat; Breaking Point; Stress Positions; Reluctant Caretaker; Let's Break the Ice; "Just get it over with."; Treading Water; "Take my coat."; Enough is Enough; Knees Buckling; Repeatedly Passing Out; Head Lolling; It's Been A Long Day; Going Into Shock; Fetal Position; Prisoner Trade; Famous Last Words; Coughing Up Blood; "You're safe now."; "Take me instead."; Pick Your Poison; Toxic; Withdrawal; Allergic Reaction; At the End of Their Rope; Forced to Kneel; Tied to a Table; "Hold them down."; Fight, Flight, or Freeze; Blood Covered Hands; "I don't want to do this anymore."; Catatonic; Silence is Golden; Lost Voice; Duct Tape; "You better start talking."; No One Left Behind; Separated; Rope Burns; "Why did you save me?"; Pushed to the Limit; Muffled Screams; Stumbling; Magical Exhaustion; It's Just the Tip of the Iceberg; Anger Born of Worry; Punching the Wall; Headache; What Doesn't Kill Me...; Sleep Deprivation; Defiance; "Better me than you."; Note to Self: Don't Get Kidnapped; Manhandled; Hair Grabbing; "Please don't touch me."; A Light at the End of the Tunnel; Comfort; Bedside Vigil; "You can rest now."; Ringing Ears; Whimpering; Dazed and Confused; Touch Starved; Ambushed; Sensory Overload; Protective; Made to Watch; Quicksand; Adrenaline Crash; Stabbed; Carried to Safety; Crutches; Emergency Blanket; Tears;

Astronaut Ice Cream;

Rising Part 1; Rising Part 2; Hide and Seek; Thirty-Eight Minutes; Suspicion; Childhood’s End; Poisoning the Well; Underground; Home; The Storm; The Eye; The Defiant One; Hot Zone; Sanctuary; Before I Sleep; The Brotherhood; Letters from Pegasus; The Gift; The Siege Part 1; The Siege Part 2; The Siege Part 3; The Intruder; Runner; Duet; Condemned; Trinity; Instinct; Conversion; Aurora; The Lost Boys; The Hive; Epiphany; Critical Mass; Grace Under Pressure; The Tower; The Long Goodbye; Coup d'Etat; Michael; Inferno; Allies; No Man’s Land; Misbegotten; Irresistible; Sateda; Progeny; The Real World; Common Ground; McKay and Mrs. Miller; Phantoms; The Return Part 1; The Return Part 2; Echoes; Irresponsible; Tao of Rodney; The Game; The Ark; Sunday; Submersion; Vengeance; First Strike; Adrift; Lifeline; Reunion; Doppelganger; Travelers; Tabula Rasa; Missing; The Seer; Miller’s Crossing; This Mortal Coil; Be All My Sins Remember’d; Spoils of War; Quarantine; Harmony; Outcast; Trio; Midway; The Kindred Part 1; The Kindred Part 2; The Last Man; Search and Rescue; The Seed; Broken Ties; The Daedalus Variations; Ghost in the Machine; The Shrine; Whispers; The Queen; Tracker; First Contact; The Lost Tribe; Outsiders; Inquisition; The Prodigal; Remnants; Brain Storm; Infection; Identity; Vegas; Enemy at the Gate; Ronon Dex; Teyla Emmagan; John Sheppard; Carson Beckett; Elizabeth Weir; Rodney McKay; Jennifer Keller; Samantha Carter; Aiden Ford; Radek Zelenka; Kate Heightmeyer; Evan Lorne; Laura Cadman; Kolya; Chuck; Peter Grodin; Steven Caldwell; Richard Woolsey; Samantha Carter; Jack O’Neill; Teal’c; Daniel Jackson; Janet Fraiser; George Hammond; Hank Landry; Carolyn Lam; Vala; Cameron Mitchell; Jonas Quinn; Lantea; Ocean; Ancient(s); Athosians; Daedalus; Wraith; Nanites; Asurans; Genii; DHD; SGC; Stargate; Earth; Antarctica; Ascension; Goa’uld; Ori;

[itsallyscorner]

Ooo I finally got a Tom request for you! This one’s more fluff since you’ve already written a smut so~

Tom stumbles into a library and falls for reader that works there and tries passing off as a regular guy just so he can watch her from afar whether it’s cataloging books or reading to kids.(libraries were the original bookstores so they’re superior)

I’ve seen you’ve read my smut for Tommy! It’s one of my favorite ones that I’ve written😏Thank you love for the support and request, I appreciate it! Happy reading❤️

💌.

Sequel: Through Your Words

From Afar

warnings: none. Some spelling errors?

(Gif from Pinterest)

(I love him sm, ugh. He’s so cute in glasses🥺)

The brisk winds of New York City blew harshly against his cheeks as he walked towards the book store. The faster he walked the closer he saw the book shaped sign and baby blue store front that he had been visiting for the past few weeks. When he approached the door, he took his hand out from his warm pocket and pulled it open. He felt a wave of hot air embrace him as he entered the store. The sudden change in temperature caused his glasses to fog up, obscuring his vision. He didn’t actually need the glasses, but it helped him get around the city without being noticed every few minutes.

He wiped his glasses with his sleeves and slid them back to rest on the bridge of his nose. He took in the warmth of the cozy book store, sniffling as his body adjusted to the heat. He had stumbled upon the unique store when he first came to New York. It had been snowing when he first arrived and he was looking for a place to get some nice hot coffee. There wasn’t a single Starbucks near his hotel and the closest thing to coffee was a small cafe just a few blocks away from him. He ended up visiting the cafe, later discovering that it had a library hidden in the back. After days of hanging out at the cafe and reading some books, he had become familiar with the staff there. Especially you. Although he’s never spoken a word to you. Instead he’s only seen you from afar, exchanging glances and shy smiles at each other.

He approached the counter and was greeted by Marco, the barista of the cafe/library.

“Hey man, you gettin’ your usual?” Marco asked as he reached for one of the festive cups near the register. Tom pursed his lips as he looked at the menu.

“D’ya know what, I think I’ll have a hot chocolate today.” Tom smiled as he took his wallet out. Marco nodded and scribbled the order onto the cup.

“Anything else?” Tom shook his head and handed Marco a $10 bill. He shoved his wallet back into his pocket, scanning the store for a place to sit.

“Keep the change, mate.” Tom told Marco waving a hand at him.

“I’ll bring your drink to you.” Tom nodded thankfully and found a table towards the back. The smell of books brought him peace and comfort as the low hum of music surrounded the store. He took a seat debating on whether or not he should go through the library or read his script. He decided to read the script, remembering that he should go over his lines for the scenes they were going to shoot tomorrow.

Pulling the script out his backpack, a smell of vanilla and a hint of fruit breezed past him. He looked up to see that you had walked past him. A small smile made its way onto his lips as he watched you interact with some of the customers. Your bright eyes were accompanied with a kind smile as you conversed with an older lady. You were dressed in a knitted sweater, some jeans, and brown boots that went up to your knees. You settled into the seat across from the old lady which was a few feet away from him. You were wearing something so simple, but he thought you looked absolutely stunning. Tom found himself being more focused on you than his script.

Suddenly a steaming cup was placed down on the table, startling him. He looked up to see Marco smirking at him as he followed his line of sight. Tom quietly thanked him as his hands gripped onto the warm cup.

“Ya know, she’s single.” Marco whispered before walking away from Tom’s table. Tom blushed furiously as Marco turned back to him with a shit eating grin. He’s been caught staring at you. Tom rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment as he forced his focus onto his script. He barely looked up, only looking at his script and cup.

An hour had passed and he was halfway through his lines. His cup was almost empty, only a few sips of hot chocolate left. Tom sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his tired eyes. He put the glasses back on and looked around. Outside, the sun had started to go down and there were different people in the store. He suddenly heard a laugh, a sweet sound, like a melody. His eyes followed the sound, only to see you laughing with one of your coworkers. The two of you were organizing books at the back. Your eyes averted from your friend, connecting with Tom’s brown eyes. A strand of hair fell from your face and Tom couldn’t help but feel tempted to tuck it back behind your ear. You shyly smiled at him with a small nod towards his direction. Tom felt the butterflies erupt in his stomach, making him feel breathless. He smiled back at you, his fingers fiddling with the highlighter in his hands. You were the first to turn away, returning to your task at hand.

At that moment, Tom felt pity for himself. You were just a few feet away from him looking as beautiful as ever. But there he was glued to his seat, only admiring you from afar. He was too scared to approach you, you just seemed too good to be true. His leg bounced nervously as he continued to sneak glances at you. His script was long forgotten, the hot chocolate now cold. He wanted to approach you but he was too nervous to go up to you. Suddenly an idea popped into his head.

Tom looked around, trying to discreetly wave down Marco. The man was busy wiping down the counters until he saw Tom flailing his hand at him. He threw the rag into the sink and approached the British man.

“What’s up? Refill? Or have you finally mustered the balls to ask (y/n) out?” Marco questioned him nonchalantly. Tom’s head snapped at the barista.

“H-how? Wait, her name’s (y/n)?” Tom’s voice trailed off as he paired the name with your face. (Y/n). The named rolled off his tongue so naturally.

“Yeah. How can I help you?”

Tom leaned in closer to Marco keeping his tone low, “Has she been reading any books lately? Like anything in the library?”

Marco took a minute to think to himself, “Ummm, she mentioned something about rereading The Great Gatsby.”

“Great, uhm. Where can I find that?” Tom asked eagerly.

Marco waved him off and patted his shoulder, “I’ll get it for you.”

Marco returned a few minutes later with the book. The book was aged but still in good condition.

Curiously, Marco asked, “What are you gonna do?”

Pulling out post it notes from his bag and a pen, he opened the book to the first page.

“I’m going to leave a note for her.” He muttered, “For (y/n), I mean.” He quickly elaborated to Marco.

He stuck the post it note to the page and thought of something to write.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it. If you want, I could give it to her. Just hand it to me when you leave.” Marco offered beginning to walk back to the counter.

“That would be great, thanks man.” Tom sent him a grateful smile and looked down at the book. He racked his brain for something nice to say that would set a good impression on you, but instead he went with the first thing he thought when he would see you.

“I think you look very beautiful today :) — Tom xx” were the words he scribbled onto the post it note. He closed the book, looking down at it nervously. Would you think the note was creepy? Would you cringe? Maybe you would appreciate it? Would you find it cute? Many questions formed in his head making him second guess his decision of leaving the note for you. But then he finally mustered the courage to just give it to you and hope for the best.

Packing his things, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and threw his cup away. He quickly looked around and saw you standing on a ladder. You were still sorting books, but now your hair was pulled up into a ponytail. With one more glance at you he took the book and approached Marco.

Marco looked at him expectantly. Tom double checked to see if the note was still in the book.

“You good?”

“Yup, I think I am.” Tom sighed finally giving the book to Marco.

“I’ll give it to her as soon as she’s done over there.” Marco motioned to you placing the book in his large apron pocket.

“Thanks, Marco. I appreciate it.” Tom smiled at him. Marco shrugged as if it were no big deal.

“No problem man, you have a good night.” Marco waved at Tom as his hands pushed on the door. Tom was about to leave but heard Marco call out to him again.

“I better be seeing you tomorrow. She’ll read the note by then.” Marco pointed at him.

“I’ll be here.” Tom confirmed before leaving the store with one more wave at Marco.

As he walked through the blanket of snow a smile was on his face the entire time. When he got back to his hotel, he laid in bed wondering if you have read the note already. He found himself anticipating the upcoming day. He couldn’t wait to visit the cafe after set or during his lunch. Maybe by tomorrow he’ll stop admiring you from afar and finally talk to you, who knows?

[shirophantomvox]

First Date With Hisoka

Hello anon! Thank you for this post! I’m sure many of us have wondered this for the longest and now your prayers will be answered.

For a while now, I have been thinking about his character and his way of living. I had this odd feeling that how Hisoka acts in public is much different than when he is alone. It seems like his “clown look” is a mask to cover up any feelings that he may have. Given that he doesn't like to talk about his past, the “clown look” is something he does to temporarily take his mind from his troubles. I got this idea by viewing the 1999 anime where he was in a restaurant with his hair down, in a suit, and seemed like he was all by himself. He is a loner and giving him company is the best thing you could do! I think (it’s Obvious) that Hisoka’s two looks are supposed to portray alter egos. His clown look is supposed to intimidate his victims while the other one is supposed to portray him as a normal human and draw people in. Sounds horrible right? It is. Forgive me if you see grammar errors. It's late and I don't have time to check it over!

Not knowing of him being a hunter, you agreed to go out with Hisoka for the first time. You’d met him at an escape room in your town. Both parties weren’t supposed to clash into each other but it happened. His charismatic attitude immediately caught your attention, nearly making you swoon in your Tinder date’s arm. After being home for 10 minutes, you hear a knock on your kitchen window. It is 3 am! Who could be there? It couldn’t be a robber because they’d never knock! You pulled back the drapes hesitantly not knowing what ominous creatures lurked beneath the shadows. The man’s golden eyes shined through the window, sending a chill down your spin. His smile was as wide as his face. It was the man from the escape room!

“Remember me,” he asked, a muffled voice sounded behind the closed window. “You passed out from pleasure.”

No one could forget that very moment. He practically asked you out through a closed window and promised to never stalk you again...sort of.

Headcanon 1: Hisoka is quite the gentleman. This is self-explanatory. Part of his personality involves a subtle attitude, smooth way of talking, and will persuade you to let down your guard because he can tell. Anytime you approach a door, he opens it for you just to beat you to the second door. While you are with him, you WILL NOT open any doors. He has seen other people let the door slam in their s/o’s face or allow them to open it themselves and views it as utter disrespect.

When you see him pulling out your chair before you sit down, you gasp. It is 2021; you’ve never seen anyone do that, only in movies from the 1950s!

If there is a puddle and it's too large for you to step over, he will lay his ripped up jacket in it for you to step on so you do not get your shoes wet.

Headcanon 2: He’ll pay for dinner.

“Feel free to order anything you’d like. It’s on me.”

“It’s on you?”

“Yes. My chest is available if you do not feel like using a plate.”

When he says that he’ll pay for dinner, he’ll play for dinner. You could order lobster, oysters, bread sticks, pasta, or the whole world! He has several debit and credit cards with no limits and will do anything to prove that he cares about his...toy.

Headcanon 3: He thinks of you as an expensive toy.

An expensive toy can be electronic devices. We use these devices to cure our boredom or even grow to love them because they help better our lives in some way.

While you two are enjoying appetizers, he’s gently stroking your hand; his sharp nails grazing your skin in such a satisfying manner.

Headcanon 4: He is much more touchy than he should be on a first date.

Hisoka’s personality isn’t different to anyone who knows him. To your surprise, his flirtations and forward behavior was expected. Instead of sitting across the table from you, he scooted down the booth, sat with 4 inches of you, and placed his left hand around your shoulders pulling you closer.

“Ah. This is much better. Now we can get to know each other better,” he said, fluttering his eyelashes. “You're much shyer than you were in the escape room. Why is that?”

Trying to look him in the eye across the table was very intimidating. It’s odd. You didn’t feel that way when he asked you out through the closed window. The heat radiating from his body hit your face like a sack of rocks. As much as you wanted to respond to him, you couldn’t. On a normal day, you were the talkative and energetic one, but there is something about this unique gentleman that had you aghast.

“Kitten, please look me in the eye when I am speaking to you,” he said ever so smoothly, placing his index finger under your smooth chin, lifting your chin so your eyes could meet his. He gently caressed your cheek with the tip of his nail waiting for you to answer. “Well?”

You flushed. Hard. Harder than you have ever done! Your eyes shook in slight fear. This man’s husky presence brought a sense of dominance; it was as if a lion was standing over you ready to make a move. Just as you opened your mouth to respond, he placed his index finger over your mouth.

“Hmmm…your cheeks seem to be a shade of pink. Something I hadn’t noticed before.”

The sound of his voice practically in your right ear melted your brain signaling your entire body to do the same. You appeared to be dumbfounded; staring blankly into his golden eyes. They were mesmerizing.

Everyone knows that you are not supposed to kiss on the first date but Hisoka Morrow does NOT follow anyone’s rules. He leans in close, puckering his lips and you follow. Just as your lips were 0.5 inches away from his, he pulled back causing you to nearly lean into him in a rather humiliating way. The waiter came with a bottle of Red wine and asked if you were ready to order.

Hisoka laughed at the epic fail he saw before him.

“You have to be quicker than that, dear.”

Headcanon 5: He asks a LOT of questions about you. Google might as well write their name on his forehead because he asks you a lot of questions.

He asked questions about your future, your talents, what job you want or have, what are your deepest, darkest fears, and anything he can use to exploit if he needs to. Yes, we all love soft Hisoka, but we have to realize that he is still manipulative at times for his own entertainment.

Of course he dodges questions about him.

Headcanon 6: He asks for a selfie to brag to lllumi. Illumi couldn’t care less about Hisoka’s happiness but he entertains the thought. Although Illumi claims he doesn’t need friends, he secretly loves the time they spend together.

“Smile big,” he says.

“Who’s going to see this,” you ask.

“Don’t worry. Only those on my private story will see this. You’re in good hands.”

Do you want to know who’s on his private story? The Phantom Troupe, The 10 Dons, and Zeno. Those people SHOULD NOT know who you are just yet.

Headcanon 7: His first date gifts are out of this world. Not only did he bring you flowers, he brought you a glass frame, expensive chocolate, and one of his crop-top shirts with his cologne on it.

“Why did you give me your shirt?”

“So you can dream of me everyday. Wear it to bed; you’ll be in heaven I guarantee it.”

Headcanon 8: Dress to impress. Mr. Morrow is known to be a fashion icon, but his dress clothes will blow you out of the water. His grayish-white suit makes his skin tone pop and more vibrant while not underneath light. His cologne was so heavily applied that you could smell it a mile away. He purposefully wore his tie crooked so you could fix it.

“Do you mind?” He pointed to his wrinkled tie.

“Not at all.” He smiled cheekily at your fingers as they fixed the clump of cloth on his neck. He was tempted to pull your fingers to his lips but didn’t.

“I’ll save that for next time,” he thought.

[secret-time-is-here]

An Error's Journey

Chapter 68

Previous - First - Next

TW: Implied Dreammare

MAJOR WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER. Physical and mental abuse and harm on large and small scales are witnessed and discussed in this chapter.

The sun rose the horizon. The chimneys of the village began to bloom with smoke, farmers wandered about their fields, shopkeepers opened their stores, young children ran with the light of day. He watched as Ink followed Yellow from a distance, heading in the direction of the pitiful excuse of a town. He stayed behind with Purple, Ink and he had yet to say a word since the truce broke.

The voices called and screamed at him, he hardly heard anything but the chorus of voices anymore. He relied on his strings more and more to tell where he was, his sight still as bad as it always had been. His hearing and touch were all that was left for him. And taste, but all he really ate anymore was stolen chocolate. Cherry’s screams of annoyance always put a chaotic smile on his skull, just loud enough to break through the yelling of his mind.

He lounged in his branch, hidden by the lush green leaves of the old wood. Spring in full bloom, this AU the only thing keeping him attached to time anymore. By mid-morning, Purple began to move around, collecting grains and fruits for their breakfast in a woven basket, preparing for Yellow to return. Instead, others came.

His hearing may have been left for the voices, but it doesn’t change the malicious intent rolling off them in waves. The children seemed to verbally dig into Purple, and Purple seems to defend themself. The annoying kids leave, and Purple seems at a loss. Error makes a note to leave a new book for them tonight. That always cheered them up.

Yellow and Ink returned. Ink stayed a tree away, and Purple acted as if nothing had happened.

The days continue into summer, and those pesky children continue to come back, sneaking away in the morning light and running off before their parents can question where they went. One morning, Ink is away watching Yellow, and Error takes his chance to intervene.

Cloak wrapped around his shoulders, he approaches the children from behind, Purple hardly notices. Far too focused on keeping the distance between them and the small rocks being thrown at him. This close, he can finally hear what they had been saying. He would say he saw red, but his eye sockets had matched that for a long time.

“Freak!”

“Witch!”

“Dream doesn’t deserve you!”

“You’re a demon tempting our savior!” The last words no doubt copied from their parents.

His shadow casts over them in the orange light of sunrise, and from their angle, he guesses that they were able to see his face. He ignored their fright, the stuttering of some mythical demon name.

His smile cracks, and he allows himself to speak an old tongue. One he had always known, and the voices hated.

“Leave…” His voice trembles in wingdings, scaring the children further, running home screaming for their Mothers.

“...Thank you,” Purple spoke softly, a charming voice he had not gotten to hear as often as he would’ve liked. He just shakes his head, signing to them that it wasn’t a problem.

He reaches into his cloak, handing them another book, Purple seems taken aback, as Error usually left the books nearby or gave them to Yellow to hand over. “I… you don’t have to…”

He gestures more, silently waving the book closer, as if saying “take it” eventually, Purple nods, and takes the book. The cover is scrawled with illustrations and wondrous words. His eyes never like to work together to be able to legibly read any of them. One always wanting to see far away and the other see close.

“...Spells?”

Error shrugs. His voice glitched too much to ever be able to talk to Purple or Yellow without giving himself away, or scaring them. “...Can you not read the words?”

He shakes his head no, and Purple softly laughs, “Alright. Thank you, stranger.”

He wandered back into the forest, and removed his hood, returning to the branches of the trees to watch from afar.

The summer turned to fall and winter, and the years went by. Despite his intervention, the abuse continued. From what he could make out, the village grew with rumors of Purple being protected by a demon. Whatever a demon was. Human religion never made sense. Always changing the stories. The underground kept a better track of their stories and that was by word of mouth. He couldn’t help but nitpick everything they did. Although he could give them credit for miraculously surviving against all odds.

The village continued to grow until it reached the bottom of the hill that Nim sat on. The tree growing more and more as the negativity and positivity of the world fueled it. He took the time to teach Purple how to climb it. Yellow attempted to, but could never do it as well as Purple. They seemed to have a good laugh about it anyway.

Those insolent children grew into teens and adults. With the village so close now, they became more cautious but brutal with their abuse. Small rocks became sizable stones, branches thrown, but Purple grew smarter, and Error taught them how to survive.

Purple spent most of their days hidden in the tree until Yellow would call them down. Yellow didn’t seem to notice or pry about the bruises and dents in Purple’s bones.

The attacks grew more brutal, and Purple began to attempt to run, the villagers getting surprisingly good aim.

Each time Purple ran, Error followed suit. Leaping from tree to tree, trailing after the purple blur in the green and brown forest. Usually, he could silently direct Purple somewhere safe, leaping ahead to direct Purple somewhere safe while he misdirected the villagers with his strings.

One time, it didn’t work, and once was all it took for disaster to strike. He shoved the villagers away, pushing them back with gaster blasters as they screamed. Unfortunately, none died. Purple still lay twitching in the grass, he didn’t get close quick enough. Magic seeping from their wounds.

He carefully picked them up, biting back the pain of contact, and walked the trek back.

When he returned, the sun had set, and he could barely hear Yellow calling for their partner. The moon beamed down on the grove as he walked closer to Nim and Yellow.

Yellow turned around, startled to see him after so long, before running over at noticing Purple in his arms.

“Starlight!” Yellow cried, carefully pulling Purple into their arms. Error pulled his arms back as if struck by live wire, the burns of contact still stinging painfully.

Purple didn’t wake up, and Yellow curled them closer, pecking kisses on the bruises on their skull. Error turned back to the forest.

The barely intelligible “Wait!” made it through the screaming of the voices. How dare he intervene. He promised. He’s worthless. Nothing. He should’ve been beaten, not Purple.

“Wha… What happened?” Yellow spoke softly, tears rolling down their cheeks.

He had intervened enough, if Purple had not told Yellow yet, he will leave that decision to Purple. He carefully signed that it wasn’t Yellow’s business before walking away further.

“Then I’ll make it my business!” He stopped in his steps and turned back to Yellow, the moon gleaming down on them and Purple. “...Please. I need to know who is doing this to Starlight… please, stranger.”

Error sighed, glitching heavily, he couldn’t stick around much longer. Ink could see, or he could crash and be left to the whims of the forest and the village.

He stepped close to Yellow and Purple, towering over them, he crouched down, the hood still covering his face. He did his best to ignore the voices, hear the stirring of the forest, river, winds, and town once more.

Softly, his voice barely glitching, he spoke: “Stay near the tree. You will see.” Dream nodded, and he stood back up, lumbering into the thicket. He didn’t get far before Ink stopped him.

“I thought we promised not to intervene.”

“Promises clearly don’t mean shit to ya, don’t they?” He snarled, “‘Sides, ‘m not leavin’ Purple ta die in the forest… not like them.”

Ink paused, and silence wafted over them. Error pushed back his hood and properly looked at Ink for the first time in years.

Their outfit had changed at some point, their paints in a sling and brush behind them, scarf tattered and pieces of nature stuck in the abandoned string. Their gloves and accessories protected them from seeing any of the white on their bones, despite their shirt being white. Their bell pants nearly looked like a skirt, but by their hip hung the totem he had given them so long ago. They had since gotten a satchel for it, covered in paint and notes, yet the journal was as clean as the day he made it.

“...We made a promise, but I’m gonna stick to whatever broken-ass morals I have left in me.”

“Heh, morals, Error?”

“Shut it, m’ soul might be all but dead, but ‘m still kickin’.” He grunted, pushing past Ink with ease, and leaving to his antivoid to heal.

When he returned, it seemed it was at the right time, although it was far from a good moment.

It looked as if Yellow had taken his advice to soul, and he was standing in front of Purple’s battered body, yelling at the villagers. It was so amusing to see their shocked faces at Yellow snapping at them. Serves them right.

Yellow shooed them away, and carefully helped Purple inside their cabin before running off, likely to get some healing herbs.

The sun fell with the night, and the moon shone high, yet there was orange gathering on the horizon. As the candlelights of the village fell, more orange gathered in a clump, making their way up the hill.

The villagers.

They all carried weapons and fire, chanting and yelling made it through the voices in his head. A hand held tight to his shoulder.

“Ink-”

“Don’t.” Core’s voice echoed from another branch, back to the mob.

They watched as the mob approached the tree, and the strongest began to cut it down, his Soul bouncing in anger and rage, the most it had beat in ages. He could feel his body melting further.

Purple ran out of the hut, stopping them. They pushed Purple aside. The chopping wayed the tree, and the apples shook, one rolled down to Purple.

Purple ate it.

The boost of power must’ve been painful. The screams tore through the voices. His mind was quiet for once, only hearing the soft crying as Purple continued to bleed out. Suddenly, the crying stopped, and Purple attacked. They hurt all the villagers that had wronged them while taking more and more apples, Yellow came back to a great massacre.

“...Starlight?”

Purple turned back to Yellow, their form corrupted, the eye flickering between purple and a nasty cyan.

“Velvet… sun?” They seemed to slowly come out of their daze before one last villager snuck up behind them. The villager didn’t last a second.

A full cyan eye snapped back to Yellow, the last gleaming apple in hand. Yellow quickly ate it, tears rolling down their cheeks again.

Purple’s eye flickered back, and one last spell was cast before cyan corrupted them. Yellow turned to stone, and Purple feinted in the bloody field.

Ink’s gentle hand soothed his shoulder, and he could hardly feel the sizzling on his cheeks. He turned and ran back into the antivoid.

[pearl-pilots-in-chains]

Ice Cream Expertise (All the Little Lights #1)

Fandom: Neon Genesis Evangelion

Ships: Kawoshin

Rating: G

Summary: Shinji is faced with a dilemma of sorts, and is characteristically indecisive. Fortunately, Kaworu is there to give some helpful advice. Or maybe just call himself an ice cream expert. Let's be honest, it's a bit of both.

Notes: This is intended to be the start to All the Little Lights, my attempt at a relatively happy Evangelion high school AU featuring the pilots we know (and maybe love) actually getting to live a normal life (including all the cute gay romance they deserve). That said, it also works totally fine as a one shot. Considering it's an AU, there's going to be some rather interesting deviations from canon, some of which are alluded to here. So, if something seems off, that's probably because it is.

As usual, any errors, grammatical or typographical, are mine. I apologize in advance.

This was originally posted to my old AO3 on May 21, 2020. I hope you enjoy it!

_________________________________________________________

Shinji Ikari was not having a good day. No, perhaps that was an understatement. He was having a distinctly bad day. School had been tedious to say the least, considering that testing week was approaching, and the teachers seemed to be doing their best to “prepare” the students using every form of academic torture known to humankind. Okay, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it had been a hectic hell all the same. Not to mention the fact that his best friend Touji was going through a rough patch (not the first one, mind you), with his girlfriend Hikari, which led to a tense mood within their friend group outside of class as well. Adding onto this was the fact that he was getting worried about his sister (what wasn’t new?) Rei, who had been especially quiet the past week or so, even by her standards. That was usually a sign that her depression was going through a rough spot. He had wanted to mention something to his mother about it, considering she usually had better luck at getting through to Rei than he did when his sister was going through a difficult time, but unsurprisingly, he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. He was gone too often, and his mother was gone too often. There was all of a one to two hour period when they were both home and awake on any given night. Rei always ending up alone probably doesn’t help her state of mind improve either. I wish she had more friends. People she could connect with.

And, of course, to top all that wonderful baggage off, he had had work after school, which had gone lovely. Just lovely. A simply wonderful group of customers had come in, and stayed for a better part of three hours, ordering intermittently while they all talked (way too loudly, in his opinion) at their shared table, which, in a predictable move, they hadn’t even bothered to clean off. He was a barista, not a waiter, despite what some people seemed to think. To make matters worse, they had been laughing so hard partway through their “discussion,” that one of the party had practically flung her iced latte through the air by accident (how someone could do that by accident, was a whole other topic for conversation), sending its contents flying halfway across the room (in a bafflingly impressive display, he had to admit, as irritating as it was). Of course, he had drawn the short straw and been the one tasked with cleaning it up. His boss seemed to get a special satisfaction out of giving Shinji all the “fun,” jobs. Okay, maybe Mr. Anno’s not that bad, but he still gets a kick out of watching me suffer. Or something like that.

Shinji sighed as he pulled his car into the store parking spot. As he exited it, he glanced down at his phone. 7:16. That meant he should have enough time to get home and get dinner going before his mother got home. These days, it seemed as though she worked progressively later and later. It had been a couple months since she’d been home before 8. She was almost certainly still out at the base at that moment. Whatever project she’s working on now is one of the more intensive ones.

He headed for the doors. He was planning on making stir fry, which meant that he needed to get soy sauce for sure, since he knew they had run out from the last time. He thought they had most of the rest of what he needed at home. So, this should be a quick run. Just in and out. After a day like today though, he was tempted to grab something sweet. Come on, after this whole mess, I think I at least half deserve something to take my mind off of it. Just a little.

Inside, he made a bee line for the condiments aisle. Alright, first things first. Get what I need. Then, maybe, I’ll just check out what they have. He grabbed soy sauce, and then wavered for a moment, trying to decide just for what he was in the mood. Okay, just something little. Nothing too big. I am going to be cooking, after all. Hmmm . . . I mean, it’s probably not the best idea, but . . .

Making his decision, he set off for the frozen section. Once again, he paused when he arrived at the aisle, looking through the glass freezer doors at the available options. I’ll just get a pint. That should be more than enough. Even if Rei goes for some too. ‘Cause mom hardly ever eats anything sweet, so I doubt she’ll have any. He tilted his head, tapping the soy sauce bottle against his thigh as he considered the selection. Why are there so many flavors? I didn’t even realize they sold Pumpkin outside of November. And Lime-Raspberry? What would that even taste like? Who comes up with these things? I’ll go for something classic. I could always do Vanilla. But, that’s a little boring. I don’t even really like it that much. Chocolate’s always classic, except that Rei doesn’t like it. And her favorite is Cookie Dough, which I don’t like the texture of . . . there are way too many choices here. Running his eyes over the racks, he did a quick count. Forty-two different flavors. Why are there forty-two different flavors? I wonder if anyone’s ever tried them all. Then again, that might take a while. And be kind of pricey. Dammit, I’m getting distracted again. The only conclusion that Shinji was coming to was the fact that he liked ice cream far too much, and was wasting far more time than he should be trying to pick out something. Maybe I should just get the soy sauce and head home. He peaked down at his phone. 7:29. Yeah, I’ve already been here longer than I should be.

A voice interrupted Shinji’s thoughts. “So, what���s your drug of choice?”

Shinji head snapped to the side, his concentration broken. “What?,” He asked, a little surprised.

The source of the interruption was standing a little further down the aisle, casually leaning on one of the freezer windows, his head cocked to the side, watching Shinji with a friendly smile on his face. Shinji thought the interrupter looked to be about the same age as him, though that fact was complicated slightly by the fact that though his face was youthful, his hair was an ashen grey. He must dye it. Is grey hair a style though? The interrupting individual sported a pair of black jeans and a band shirt for a group whose name looked vaguely familiar to Shinji. Porcupine Tree . . . I feel like Rei might listen to them. Maybe. Not to mention the fact that the newcomer had red eyes. Red eyes. Okay, so maybe this is a look he’s going for. I mean, those are definitely contacts, right? Unless there’s a genetic mutation I’ve never heard of, I don’t think humans can be born with red eyes. Which means that they’re contacts. Which means that the hair is almost definitely dyed too. I’m pretty sure that’s not what ‘scene’ looks like . . . there’d be brighter colors . . . and I don’t think it’s emo either . . . I’m pretty sure his hair would be black then . . . huh . . . maybe that’s goth. Yeah. Let’s go with that. In addition to making him second guess what scene fashion looked like, Shinji’s visual analysis of the interrupter also led him to a more definite conclusion. That regardless of what category his fashion fell under, he was pretty cute. Seriously Shinji, focus here, and stop thinking about how some random boy in Safeway who asked you what type of drugs you like is cute. Don’t be an idiot. Sure, you haven’t been on a date in months, ever since Martin broke up with you, but he was a manipulative jerk anyway— Shinji realized the interrupter had started talking again, which snapped him back into reality and out of his wandering mind.

“Yeah. What flavor is your favorite. I mean, out of the forty-two, there has to be one you’d pick, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. Probably cookies ’n’ cream,” Shinji answered, feeling more than a bit confused. On an afterthought, he added, “You’ve counted all the flavors too?”

“Not a bad choice,” the boy said with a firm nod. “Although, I’m more into mint chocolate chip myself. And yes, I’ve counted them all. It’s an important part to being an ice cream expert. Keeping track of the available flavors at the nearest store.”

“Okaayyy.” Shinji’s tone betrayed his uncertainty concerning just how he should deal with this stranger. “Ice cream expert?”

“Yep, that would be me,” the boy replied matter-of-factly, as though the question was a pointless one. He strolled over to Shinji and extended his hand. “Kaworu Akagi, ice cream expert, at your service.”

Shinji shook the offered hand, deciding he should be polite, despite the fact that his perplexity had not been substantially diminished in any way. This guy is . . . interesting, to say the least. As their hands met, Shinji was struck by the strange, but intense, sense that this wasn’t his first time meeting Kaworu.

“Shinji Ikari.” Against his better judgement, he decided to follow his introduction with, “Have we met before?”

Retracting his hand, Kaworu pursed his lips, ostensibly mulling over the question in his mind. After a few moments, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. At least, not that I can recall. I just got into town a few days ago. Why do you ask?”

Shinji shrugged, trying to play off his earlier question. “Oh, I think you just reminded me of someone I used to know.”

Kaworu nodded, seeming to accept this answer. “Ah, that makes sense. So, have you come to a conclusion, or would you like a second opinion?”

Shinji raised an eyebrow. “About the ice cream, you mean?”

“Indeed. That is the topic on the floor, as they say,” Kaworu responded nonchalantly.

Shinji blinked. “Who says?”

“Why, they do of course.”

“Oh. Umm, alright.” Shinji looked back through the window, surveying his options once more. A obvious choice didn’t present itself. “Well . . . I suppose a second opinion probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“Great,” Kaworu stated, his tone even and pleasant. “Any occasion in particular you’re buying for?”

Shinji shook his head. “Nope, not really. Just . . .” he hesitated, uncertain how much he wanted to tell someone who was still basically a stranger to him. “Just a bad day,” was what he ended up deciding on.

Kaworu pretended to stroke nonexistent hairs on his chin, nodding slowly as did so, in an amusing imitation of the stereotypical philosopher. “Hmm . . . ice cream for a bad day, you say?”

“Uh. Yeah. I guess so.”

“I’d have to recommend Cherry Chip for that. It’s a guaranteed mood improver from my experience. It is nearly impossible to feel down while you’re eating Cherry Chip ice cream.”

“Really?” Shinji’s ice wandered down the display, finally locating the flavor in question. Fortunately, they had it in pint size, which meant that the option was on the table. He couldn’t think of any reason not to go for it. As far as he knew, Rei liked Cherry Chip. At least, he thought she did. He wasn’t entirely sure that he’d ever seen her eat it. For that matter, he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d ever eaten it himself. Which means it might be pretty good, and I just don’t know it yet. You never know. “Really. Trust me, I’ve tested its potency. It won’t let you down.”

“Alright. Why not?” Shinji opened the door and grabbed a pint of Cherry Chip. He examined the container in his hands for a few seconds, before looking back up at Kaworu, who now seemed to be smiling in encouragement, which had the effect of making him look even cuter than before. Come on Shinji, don’t get distracted! Sure, he might be attractive, but he’s also a self-proclaimed ice cream expert. . . not sure whether that’s a good or a bad thing yet, to be honest.

“That’ll do the job,” Kaworu remarked, in a straightforward tone that made it sound as though he was utterly confident in the truth of his words.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Shinji furrowed his brow as another question popped into his mind. “Hey .. . you said you just got into town a few days ago. How is it that you already know all the different flavors they have here?”

“It was one of the first things I scoped out after we got into town. Always important to know what kind of ice cream game you’re going to be dealing with. Plus, I had plenty of free time once we finished unpacking, considering I won’t be in school up here until the fall.”

“Ah, okay. That makes sense.” Almost on a whim, Shinji was tempted to ask Kaworu where he had moved from, but decided that could come across as prying a little too much, since Kaworu hadn’t offered that information. As it was, Kaworu gave a partial answer to the question without Shinji even verbalizing it.

“School down south ends earlier. Though, to be fair, it also starts earlier there as well. We left a couple days after my semester ended. Which means I currently have relatively few obligations, other than locating and obtaining a job for the summer.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Shinji still wasn’t exactly sure how to respond, but he decided to field a question of his own. He figured it could come across as a polite inquiry, rather than being nosy, taking into account what Kaworu had just revealed. “So, what brought you up north?”

“My mother got transferred out to the base,” Kaworu returned offhandedly.

Shinji tilted his head in response to this answer, the gears in his brain turning. Well, that’s interesting. He almost wanted to make some sort of follow-up remark expressing their similarity in that regard, but he decided that might be a bit too much to say for the moment. Instead, he merely offered a casually, “I gotcha.” He continued with an amiable, “Well, welcome to Asherdale,” along with a more ironic, “It’s halfway decent, once you get used to it.”

Kaworu’s face broken into a grin at the humor, an expression that Shinji couldn’t help but feel made him look all the more attractive. Oops, getting distracted again. . . don’t do that . . . too much.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Kaworu said warmly.

“No problem.” The thought suddenly entering his mind, Shinji shot a momentary glance down at his phone. Hmm, what time is it? The answer was 7:37. 7:37?! I’ve been talking for eight minutes?! That felt like four or five at the most. I have to bail, now, if I’m going to make it home in time to get cooking.

He looked back up at Kaworu, who was still watching him, his gaze soft, the smile still on his face, his head tilted to the side. Shinji had the strange feeling that if it had been anyone else, the observational pose the boy had struck would have looked unusual, to say the least, but somehow, on Kaworu, it didn’t look half bad. It gives him a kind of elegant aesthetic . . . okay, where did I come up with that? I definitely need to head out.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry to leave so quick, but I need to get going.” Shinji cringed a little internally, hearing the awkward tone in his voice. You could have said that in a way that didn’t basically announced the fact that it made you flustered. Great going.

“Understandable. You wouldn’t want that ice cream to melt before you get the chance to test out its powers.”

“Haha, yeah, you know it.”

Kaworu nodded, imply that yes, he did indeed know it. “Why don’t I give you my number?” He remarked. “That way, you’ll have someone on hand for any future ice cream dilemmas.”

“Ahhh . . .” Okay, that was actually kind of smooth, in an odd way. And . . . it’s not like it could really hurt anything. I mean, he didn’t even ask for my number. Which means he’s not even necessarily flirting with me. It’d probably be a bit of stretch to say he is. After all, if I have his number, and he doesn’t have mine, that means I can choose whether I want to text him or not, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Which isn’t really a good way to flirt with somebody. I think I’m stalling again here . . .”

Shinji noticed Kaworu was watching him again, waiting for a response. “Sure. Sounds like a good plan.” He pulled out his phone and hastily created a new contact, before offering it to Kaworu. “Here, you can put it in.”

Kaworu nodded, his smile remaining intact, and typed in the digits, before handing it back to Shinji. “It was nice to meet you, Shinji Ikari,” he commented affably.

“You can just call me Shinji,” Shinji quickly responded.

“Alright then. It was nice to meet you Shinji.”

“You too . . .” Should I use first and last name like he did the first time? Or just go with first name. I don’t want to offend him, if that’s the sort of thing that’s important to him. After all, he does seem a bit, umm, particular.

“You can just call me Kaworu,” the boy suggested, his smile widening.

“It was nice to meet you Kaworu,” he finished lamely. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yes, maybe so.”

Shinji nodded again, spun on his heels, and promptly made for the registers. Well, that went excellently. You meet a boy who’s kind of cute, even if he is a little eccentric, and straight off the bat, you’re second guessing yourself and fumbling for words. Fantastic.

Shinji shot a brief glance back as he reached the end of the aisle, to see that Kaworu was now retrieving an ice cream carton of his own from the merchandise freezer. Shinji turned away again before the boy could look back in his direction. Don’t want him to think I’m staring at him or something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shinji collapsed back onto his bed with a satisfied sigh. He was glad to have finally reach it, after the nigh-interminable day. Well, maybe not quite interminable. But definitely overlong. Without much thought, he grabbed his phone from his nightstand and spun in about in his hands a couple times, feeling the sensation of the textured case against his skin.

Dinner had been a success, such as it could be, anyway. He had impressed himself with just how fast he managed to throw things together when he went into slight (well, maybe more than slight) panic mode.

The ice cream had been a success as well. He had to admit, Cherry Chip was a pretty good flavor. He still wasn’t sure whether he had tried it before or not, but he was glad he had definitively tried it now. Rei had also enjoyed it, which was an added plus. In fact, their mother had even had a bowl, something altogether unexpected. Apparently, Cherry Chip ice cream was one of the sweets she would indulge in. Didn’t see that coming. All in all, the majority of the pint was no more.

Powering on his phone, Shinji was faced with another choice for the evening. Unlike his earlier ice cream deliberation, however, this cerebration was of a cursory duration. After a few seconds, he had composed the text, and was hovering over the send button. Alright. Let’s do this. He tapped the icon.

Shinji I.: Thanks for the recommendation. It was a good choice! Lol. This is Shinji, btw.

The response to his message came swiftly. Wow, he must type fast.

Kaworu A.: Happy to be of service. I’m glad it worked out.

Shinji found a smile edging its way across his lips. Maybe, in spite of everything, today wasn’t such a bad day after all.

[elen-aranel]

Lt., Phone Home Part 2 (Part 1)

The Engineer’s Adventures

1-1 • 1-2 • 2 • 3 • 4

A sequel to Lt., Phone Home For @autumnleaves1991-blog who said she’d read one if I wrote it. Pairing: Captain Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings: none really! Canon typical injuries to other characters, alcohol consumption, plot WC: 1.6k A/N: I’m still so new at this!

If you’d been able to finish your level three diagnostic before the Layrians sent you to the past, you would have detected the fault and this wouldn’t have happened.

You only have a second to think that, though, because ‘this’ is a console exploding in Chief Engineer Louvier’s face, sending him, Ensign Devrin, a Tellarite newly transferred to the Enterprise, and Crewman Park flying.

“Engineering to sickbay! Medical Emergency!” You have your communicator in one hand, tricorder in the other, scanning. You want to check on Louvier, see if he’s okay, but there’s a fault in the EPS system and if you don’t get it locked down quickly, the warp core may blow. You look around to see who you have, and a lot of shocked eyes meet your gaze. You take charge.

“Harrison, see to Louvier and the others. Okorafor, vent the plasma manifolds. Mason, isolate the console from the rest of the system. Everyone else stand by.” You run through the checklists in your head.

“Engineering to Bridge, there’s a problem with the EPS system and we’re going to need to shut down the warp core immediately. Louvier is injured,” you add, explaining why you’re calling and not him.

“Yellow Alert. Helm, drop us out of warp. Keep us updated Lieutenant,” Number One’s voice is calm as you feel the ship’s vibrations change as you drop into normal space.

“Computer, emergency warp core shutdown. Authorisation Gamma Epsilon one-two-zero.”

“Unable to comply. Control circuits are offline.”

The console must have taken out the circuitry when it blew. No time to fix it – you need to do this manually.

You dash to the other central console, the one that’s still undamaged, and start entering commands.

“Michaels, if I can’t shut the core down we may need to eject it. Can you check those systems are running please?”

You really need someone to keep an eye on the impulse engine too, since if that overheats it can cause a lot of problems but you can’t eject it. You look around – a team of medics have arrived and are loading the injured onto stretchers, helped by a couple of engineering crewmen. You should be getting reinforcements soon now that the ship’s at yellow alert, but they aren’t here yet. You spy a gold uniform, standing out among the red and blue.

“Captain?” What’s he doing here?

“I was passing by when I heard the yellow alert. Number One told me the problem was here. Can I help?”

“Yes.” You point to a console. “Monitor the temperature of the impulse drive. If it gets above 400 Kelvin, increase the coolant. If it doesn’t come back down, let me know.”

“Aye, Lieutenant.”

You go back to your console, manually going through the power-down checklist. It’s stressful, especially when there are a few hiccups along the way with errors related to the damage that occurred, but you’re in your element here.

“Warp core offline,” you announce at last, as more staff arrive finally. Now you can get to fixing the actual problem.

“You have more than earned that drink,” Captain Pike says, as you walk down the corridor together some time later. The ship is back at warp, Louvier is in sickbay still recovering from plasma burns, but he, Devrin and Park will make a full recovery. Repairs are almost complete, and you would have stayed until they were done had Pike not gently remarked that you had mentioned you had a prior arrangement. You hadn’t mentioned it, of course, but no one else was to know. Pike had stayed in Engineering for the duration, fetching and carrying, checking readings and generally making himself useful. Having him around was good for crew morale, especially when you hadn’t known the prognosis for your colleagues. Your friends. Now the remainder of the work is in the capable hands of Lt Asher who came in a couple of hours early for gamma shift tonight.

“I need it,” you say, fervent. “This has been a day.”

“I didn’t think I was going to be able to drag you out of Engineering, but now that I have... would you like to get dinner? I think we could both use a decent meal.”

You suddenly realise you’re starving. “Thank you, Captain. I’d like that.” You smile at him, and he grins back, showing his dimples again.

“Call me Chris now we’re off duty,” he says as you reach the turbolift and he pauses to let you go first.

“Sure, Chris,” it comes out easier than it did on Earth in the past, somehow. Maybe you’re used to it.

The Captain’s dining room is spacious, and well appointed. It has a dining table and chairs, and sofa and low table with a vase of fresh flowers beneath a large window, showing the stars going by at warp. The lighting is soft, but a small spotlight highlights a model of the Enterprise on a shelf in the the corner. The overall effect is pleasing, but it seems a little impersonal, somehow. Except maybe the large earthenware pot on the shelf below the miniature ship. That doesn’t seem like the sort of thing a starship designer would put there.

“A traditional Navajo pot,” Chris says, following your gaze. “It’s from California, where I grew up. I don’t eat here often, but even here it’s good to have a reminder of home.”

He heads to the synthesiser. “Is chilli okay? It’s based on a family recipe. But I do keep tweaking it. It’s my go to comfort food, after a day like this.”

“That sounds really good,” you reply, letting him pull out a chair for you and watching as he brings nachos, sour cream, salsa, guacamole and two wine glasses from the synthesiser.

“It’s not beer, but it is real,” he says, opening a cupboard set beneath the synthesiser and withdrawing a bottle of red wine and a corkscrew hanging just inside the door.

He pours you each a glass. “Zinfandel, from California. Another taste of home. Cheers,” he says.

“Cheers,” you reply, clinking your glass and taking a sip. The flavour is bold and you taste berries, with maybe a hint of liquorice and vanilla. “This is good,” you add, taking another sip as he brings the food over.

“Given today, only the best will do,” he gives you a lopsided smile, blue eyes twinkling, and you can’t help but be charmed.

Conversation flows easily over the delicious meal – Pike’s chilli is good, and you tell him so. He tells you about growing up in the desert, and you chat about your former postings, swapping stories of engineering disasters. As the evening wears on you find yourself on the sofa, box of dark chocolate truffles on the table in front of you, with only a couple left. You yawn a little, and catch sight of the chronometer above the synthesiser – when did it get so late?

“Keeping you up past your bedtime?” Chris winks at you, and you grin back, totally at ease.

“You’ve got to admit, it’s been a long day. I can’t help thinking that if those aliens could’ve held off for a few minutes before pulling us through time, I could have finished my diagnostic, and the excitement in Engineering wouldn’t have happened,” you say as you stand.

“You were good, though,” he says, standing with you. “Not many days you can say you saved both the timeline and the ship.”

You feel yourself warming at the praise, and cover it by getting your jacket from where you’d shed it on the back of your chair earlier. Chris helps you put it on, lingering close.

“I believe it’s traditional at the end of the date to walk the lady home, but I’m guessing you can find your way,” he says with another little smile, voice a little deeper.

“Maybe that tradition wouldn’t be appropriate, but I can think of another that would work,” you say, and you feel your heart beating a little faster.

“Yeah?” He asks, his hands on your shoulders, and your eyes linger on his mouth before travelling up to his soft blue eyes.

“Yeah,” you say, and your voice comes out breathy but you don’t mind because he’s drawing you closer, one hand on your back, one hand moving along your jawline. He tilts his head and your hands come up to his chest, feeling the muscle there beneath his shirt. Your eyes flutter closed as his lips find yours and then the ship falls away and it’s just you, him, and the stars making warp trails around you. You gasp slightly and open your mouth, and his tongue brushes yours and you taste chocolate, red wine, and him. Your hands move round his neck as the kiss deepens, and you press against him.

Eventually you break apart, breathing heavily. There’s a slight look of surprise in his eyes, and you think it must be reflected in yours – you didn’t expect your good night kiss to be that intense.

“Well, good night, Chris. Thank you,” you say, fastening your jacket, trying to get a handle on your breathing.

“Dinner tomorrow?” He asks, eyes searching your face. “Maybe, uh... in my quarters?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you say. “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your fingers, eyes full of promise. You pull your hand away reluctantly, smile, and leave before you can get tempted into anything more. Even though you’d like to you have alpha shift in the morning and he has a whole ship to run.

You wonder what tomorrow will be like. Maybe another unusual day would be a good thing.

[doughnut29]

A Coffee ☕ 🤎

"Ah!" I groaned mentally looking at the same error! It's been half day and I'm still at this stupid error! Why can't it just get solved? 

I checked the Query like 20 times from top to bottom! Rewrote it on notepad about 3 times. Still the error is showing up. This little evil thing is now getting on my nerves.

I no longer have any patience as my brain is ready to explode at any moment! I stuck to my system and didn't even glance at what was happening around me and it's already 7 in the evening. 

Finally, I can go home.So I slammed the laptop. Not hard but gently because it costs my monthly salary and moreover it's the company's. I stood up and stuffed all my things in my bag and walked out of the cabin. Most of the campus is empty with a few people here and there. I looked up at the sky it's already so dark, as dark as a perfect black leather jacket. I sighed contemplating my boring life. I walked to the bus stop outside the campus and sat on the bench waiting for my bus. My mind is still thinking about the “Little Evil'' of my query. My mind running all the possible solutions like I am scrolling through some articles to get to the main points. 

In between this deep thinking I looked up from the ground and saw a bus leaving. For my very own luck the bus is supposed to be the bus I get into. I jumped from where I sat but it was too late and I just stared at the leaving bus until it was out of sight. Now the day couldn’t be more fcked up, could it? Now I groaned out loud not minding the people around me.May be they stared at me like I am a wild animal but still I don't bother about that in this situation. I stomped my feet on the ground and started walking in the same direction. 

After which it felt like about 10 minutes my legs stopped at a Cafe. I lifted my head reading it’s name.

“Magic Cafe”

I looked through the glass walls. It is a small cafe and I can see some empty seats. Again I looked at the name board “What’s with the name? Magic?Do they do Magic or what?” I snorted to myself and walked in.

**《《《 High recommendation to play Coffee by BTS or any other feel good song 》》》**

As I opened the door a bell rang. Wow they actually have a doorbell. As soon as the bitter and sweet aroma of Coffee hit my nostrils my eyes closed involuntarily feeling the flavor more. Inside the cafe is warm and cozy. It looks more like a vintage themed but actually I felt like I entered into a real one because everything in there is so detailed. I walk straight to order. “What would you like to order, dear?” an old lady asked me. Her smile is so sweet.

“I would like to have a hot latte with a Chocolate cake” I ordered without checking any menu because that’s what my favorite combination is. I paid for it and the lady handed over the bill smiling warmly. I couldn’t resist but returning the smile to her. I walked to a table near the glass wall. I settled on the chair and stared out. The world outside is so fast. Cars, buses, people are moving so fast. I felt like I was observing the theory of relativity from there. 

I can hear a slight music in the background, the doorbell when someone entering or exiting,  clincking of coffee cups and plates, coffee machines and again the bitter and sweet aroma of Coffee. These all are making my heart relax. But what I am seeing is so opposite of what I am feeling right now at this moment. I just want to be in this moment forever.

 A waiter placed my order interrupting my thoughts and asked politely “Do you need some extra sugar?” I noticed the tray has only two sachets, So I nodded smiling. I opened the sugar and poured it into the coffee. The waiter brought another 3 sachets. I mumbled a thankyou with a smile loud enough for him to hear. I slowly poured the required amount of sugar and started stirring the coffee.

I smelled it before taking a sip and it instantly relaxed all my tenses. I Slowly took a sip, closing my eyes feeling that bitter and sweet aroma which was tempting me just a second ago. The sip feels like heaven. It is exact warm and exact sweet and the coffee flavor is strong enough for me. I just closed my eyes feeling all the taste of it, a curve formed on my lips wide enough to show my dimples. I took another big sip and placed it on the table. I took a bite from the Chocolate cake into my mouth and “Mmmmed” loud enough hearing back some chuckles from the people around. But that didn’t stop me from feeling my favorite Bite of cake. 

I just completely forgot how frustrated my mood was a few minutes before. Actually I forgot about everything in the world, my mind, my heart everything is revolving around this Coffee and that piece of cake. Now I don’t bother about the “Little devil” which was the reason for all the unfortunate incidents that happened. I completed both the Coffee and the Cake. My heart and tummy are full, So full. 

I sighed in relief and leaned back to my seat.

At that moment I realized the Love of my life 

"A Coffee"

I closed my eyes listening to “Coffee” playing in the background. 

Baby baby you are the 

Caramel Macchiato

Your scent is still 

sweet on my lips  

Baby baby tonight...

The singer's voice is as sweet as that Caramel Macchiato. 

As I'm enjoying the mood, my brain has opened a tab showing a particular part of Query "I should check that part who knows the little evil is dancing there,'' I thought to myself and smiled.

 I waited for the song to get complete before leaving that "Magic" place.

《《 This is an original content

Author - Me

Pic - user #rkive in insta 》》

[jacobseedz]

Care pt.1

Professor Snape x Student!Reader

1340 words lol

Been feeling kinda shitty for the past months, so I thought I’d write something w my fav Prof :))) Hope you enjoy it, and I beforehand apologise for any errors, english is not my first language. I’M SORRY IF SEV IS SOOO OUT OF CHARACTER DKDKDK NOT EDITED SO IM REALLY SORRY BOUT THE ERRORS DKDJ LOVE YALL

Part 2   Part 3

Another bad, unproductive day. Nothing seemed to be quite alright for a long time. Nobody noticed your mood lately, but it was nothing new, you were used to it. Your parents were too busy, working for the Ministry of Magic. Your friends had their own problems, and the teachers? Why would they even give a damn..

You laid in bed for about twenty minutes, staring pointlessly at the ceiling. There were no classes to attend, it was Christmas after all. Everyone from your dormitory had left Hogwarts to spend the holidays with their family. Only you stayed behind, your parents wouldn't be home, so there was no point in leaving.

Looking to your left, you saw Jinx, your pet bat hanging upside down, soundlessly asleep. At least she could sleep with no care in the world. 

Deciding to roam around, you got up, maybe you'd stop for food in the kitchens. The kitchen elves were particularly fond of you, and always gave you a small snack or some sweets. As long as you were nice to the elves, they were happy to give food out.

With a sigh, you throw off the soft blanket. Your grandma gave it to you before passing away. It was a birthday gift.

Upon the last memory of her, tears welled up in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away. She was your biggest supporter, teacher, and the only close family... until death came for her. And that was the breaking line.. You felt stupid, crying and walking down the hall, where everyone could see. Even though it was nearly nighttime, and half of the students who stayed were probably in their dormitories by now. However, the ghosts were always around, some taunting you, some playing tricks, and some being indifferent. 

The closer the kitchen got, the faster you started wiping the tears away. Finally, able to breathe properly, you put on a small smile, and entered the area. Two elves greeted with warm smiles. They never said a word to you, not that it was a problem. Without a word, just a wink one of them gave you a long bar of chocolate, skittles and a bottle of chocolate milk. 

"Thank you.." you whispered. You left with a wave, still smiling softly. Now you just had to find a place to sit down.

Two more turns, and you found yourself before the staircase leading to the dungeons. It was one of your favourite places. Whenever you felt sad or just exhausted with life you came there. Sometimes you managed to cross paths with your professor, however you prayed to Dumbledore that he was already down there. It would've been an embarrassment if he'd see you in such state.

Munching on your treats, tears began flowing down again. This year was just so terrible for you. Your grandma passed away, your grades got worse, you parents were always working and your friends just stopped caring.

Loud footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. Before you could wipe your face, Professor Snape came into view, a nasty scowl on his face. Upon seeing you, his expression changed, it softened a little bit. 

Since he started teaching you, he saw great potential, not once did you make a mistake in brewing a potion or on a test. You were always the first one to give it back, or answer a tricky question on many lessons. He liked your passion about potions, always approaching it with delicacy and great precision. 

And you never spoke any ill words about him, quite on the contrary, you defended him handful of times. And it warmed his cold heart, making him put down the tough layers he built around himself, just for you. On free periods, you came to his classroom, offering your help in arranging the cupboard or preparing for his next lesson, like bringing important jars and such. 

Students noticed how you became the only favourite student, always going soft on you, never giving a snarky comment, only small praises, sometimes even a smirk, although barely noticable for others. 

"OH.. Professor-" you started, getting up. Your cheeks heat up, embarrassment washing over you. 

"Come along, Y/N." he spoke quietly, going down the stairs, towards his office. 

Not wasting much time, you walked behind him. Vision still blurred from the tears, you took careful steps, afraid you'd fall and break your bones. 

You didn't know if you should curse Dumbledore or actually thank him. Maybe Snape's company would actually cheer you up, or worsen your mood. 

"Alohomora..." he muttered, letting you in first with a small nod. 

You went further in, sitting down on the couch near the fireplace,and opposite Snape's armchair. It was like a ritual, most of your holidays you spent there. Severus would always make tea for both of you, and sit down by the fireplace. Some days were in comfortable silence, just enjoying each others company, and on some days you'd make small talk, or discuss many topics. But it never felt forced.

"Green tea, as always I presume?" he questioned, raising a brow. 

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you." 

He nodded, turning the kettle on. You smiled, it was nice to have someone show a little bit interest in your well-being.

"How are the first years?" you asked, staring into the fire, pushing your hands out trying to warm them.

"Horrid. Not one brat knew what I would get if I added root of Asphodel to an infusion of wormwood.." he exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

"HA! Easy. Draught of Living Death." you shouted triumphantly.

"Precisely. Well done." he praised, smirking. You looked down, blushing madly. He knew it would lighten your mood a little bit.

"It couldn't be that bad though? I heard Jack got better in potions.."

Severus let out an annoyed sigh. "He just made the potion explode. Instead of cutting the Sopophorus bean while making Felix Felicis , he should've smashed it, brings out the juice more. Damn dunderhead .."

"Oof, well, next time I see him, I'll tutor him a little bit."

Severus handed you the tea, sitting on the armchair, taking a sip of his own one. You handed him the other half of the chocolate bar.

"Don't bother... How are your parents?"

You offered a weak smile. "Good, busy as always, but working for the Ministry is like that, so what can I say."

"How have you been lately, professor?" you questioned, looking into his eyes.

"I've told you many times before, call me Severus." he gave a small smile, making your heart melt instantly. "Good, although the holidays aren't my favourite, I prefer that muggle tradition called Halloween."

"Oh Merlin! Me too! Especially when the elves make pumpkin pasties and delicious cranberry punch." your laugh was like a beautiful melody to the dark-haired man.

"Ah, yes. Though the idea of scaring those isolent brats is just too tempting to pass." he smirked.

He frowned quickly. It threw you off a bit.

"I've noticed your grades getting worse. Minerva approached me before the christmas break. She worries about you, as do the other teachers. And I." he said softly. "You were always a top student. What changed?"

Tears welled up in your eyes for the milionth time. The teachers actually care? Professor McGonagall even came to Severus?

So lost in your thoughts you didn't realise Severus sat beside you, his worried gaze on you.

"I'm sorry.." you managed to whisper, before heavy sobs took over your body.

The cold man instantly took you into his warm embrance, caressing your soft hair, rocking you back and forth. Who would've thought that a man like Severus Snape would ever hug someone and try to make their every problem dissapear, because he cares so deeply. You really wreaked your way into his heart, that actually lied existed, but under many layers of thick walls.

"Shhh. It's alright. We're here, I'll help you as much as I can, and so will others. Don't worry." he promised. 

You pushed your head into the crook of his neck, hugging him as tightly as he was you.

"Thank you.."

[vanderlindeandco]

Whiskey and Chocolate (Bill Guarnere x Reader)

Sequel to Silver and Sapphire

Thank you @wecomrades​ for fact-checking this and for very kindly pointing out a glaring error that I have since patched (half-assedly, but still)

You weren’t the biggest fan of what you saw when you checked your appearance in the cracked mirror inside the half-destroyed house you’d be spending the night in. Your hair was limp and dirty, the circles beneath your eyes darker than you’d expected even knowing you were sleep-deprived, and your cheeks had taken on an unfamiliar hollowness, no doubt from being on your feet for most of every day without enough food to make up for all the energy you expended. But you were in one piece, and for being where you were, that would have to be enough. You tucked a few loose strands of hair under your headscarf, and straightened the necklace that still felt foreign, the chain as light as the touch of a feather every time it shifted against your skin. You reached up to touch its stone as you walked back outside, pulling your coat tighter around you as the cold wind nipped at your face and neck.

“There you are.” Bill was waiting at the aid station when you reached it, and to your surprise, you found he’d cleaned up, presumably as well as he could given the circumstances. His face was mostly clean-shaven, a couple small cuts betraying the extent of his efforts, and his uniform, while far from clean, had wet spots in place of stains he’d tried to clean off with varying levels of success. What looked like two blankets were draped over his shoulder, and his pockets were bulging.

“Thought I’d run off?” you asked.

“Nah, just figured you were gettin’ pretty for our date,” he said, “Not that you needed to.”

You ignored the little flutter in your chest.“You clean up all right yourself.”

“Why thank you,”  he said. “Had to skip a few steps of my usual toilette, but what’re you gonna do about it? This ain’t exactly the Ritz anyway.”

“I’m impressed,” you said, though it was more by the fact that he’d tried at all than by what the results were. To be entirely honest, you had been becoming increasingly uncertain whether you should have said yes to this date - or whatever it was - after he had left earlier, the most rational part of your brain telling you that you were being unprofessional and that he might just want to get laid, but he’d already presented evidence to the contrary, and this stacked more proof onto the pile.

“You hungry?” he asked, pulling a tin of rations from one of his pockets.

“For mystery meat, always,” you said, and he chuckled, tossing you a can.

“C’mon, I got a place we can go.”

You followed him down the main road, past several soldiers on guard, and then down a side street, where he nodded toward an inset doorstep; it was just wide enough for the two of you, and clear of rubble - you wondered if he’d come by earlier to clear it out. It was close enough to the rest of the company for some level of security, but tucked away enough to provide a little privacy, and when you sat down in it, elbow to elbow with Bill, his proximity to you ignited your nervousness all over again. “You don’t mind gettin’ a little cozy, do you?” he asked as he scooted back a little further, leaning against the door. “Figured it’d be good for keeping warmth in, and all.”

“Oh, is that it?” you teased. “Just want to keep the warmth in, huh?”

“‘Course,” he said, faking offense at your doubtfulness. “What’re you trying to imply? I ain’t never been called anything less than a gentleman.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Now I know that’s a lie, and lying’s not very gentleman-like, if you ask me.” 

He took the can of rations from your hand and began to open it for you. “This make up for it?”

You considered whether you should let him off easy, and then decided to. “Sure.”

“Good.” He handed you the opened can, and you pulled your multi-tool from your pocket, unfolding the spoon to begin eating. 

“So,” you said after you swallowed your first bite. “What’s your history?”

“This a job interview or something?” he asked, and you shrugged.

“Maybe.”

That made him smile, and he took a bite of his food, swallowing quickly, before answering. “Well, ma’am,” he emphasized the word, “I’m the youngest of ten. Grew up in South Philly. Dropped out of high school after Pearl Harbor to go build tanks. Ma didn’t like that too much, so I finished school and worked by night. Same year I volunteered for this shit-” he gestured vaguely at the mess around you, “-and you know the rest.”

“Sounds pretty busy, finishing school and working nights,” you commented, impressed by his dedication.

He shrugged. “I wasn’t the only one doing it.”

That was it, you realized - that was why you were out here with him, because under all the bluster and sweet-talking, he was a kid from the States, just like you, just trying to do the right thing. He didn’t think he was anything that special, but you’d heard plenty about him that he didn’t say himself, and you knew that he was. It didn’t hurt that he knew how to make you laugh until your sides hurt, either. “How about you?” he asked, stirring his food and scooping up another bite, not noticing that you’d been staring at him, which you only realized when he broke the silence. “What’s your story?”

You told him, but speaking about your hometown was bittersweet. It had been nearly a year since you’d seen it now, what with training and then deployment, and you found yourself hurrying to finish the tale, wanting to get your mind off the place you missed so dearly. 

“Ain’t too easy thinking about it now, is it?” he said once you’d finished, and you nodded, surprised by how easily he’d read you. 

He looked down, scuffing the toe of one boot in the dust. “Helps me remember what the hell I’m doing out here, though.”

He was right - that was the only good way to look at it - perhaps through that lens you could remember your home a little more sweetly, and you nodded, sitting back to watch the sky, in which a weak sun was setting.

“Real cheerful pair, aren’t we?” he commented, “Actin’ like a couple of salty old timers, talking about the good old days.” 

You chuckled. “You’ve got a point. But I got something that might cheer us up.” You withdrew the bottle of Scotch from inside your coat and Bill’s eyes lit up.

“Excellent.”

A few shared sips of the liquor began to loosen your tongue and lift your spirits and soon you were chatting comfortably again, laughing as Bill recounted stories of the mischief he’d frequently perpetrated as a child (which didn’t surprise you) and soon he began to poke you for stories of your own. “C’mon, you’re telling me you never got in trouble? Never snuck out? Egged a house? Nothin’?”  There was so much disappointment in his eyes as you shook your head that you were tempted to make something up just to make him laugh, but you discarded the notion to stay honest.

“I was a pretty good kid.”

“Boring,” he said, shaking his head as he sat back and took another sip from the bottle.

“No it’s not!” you exclaimed indignantly, and then a memory came back to you. “Oh, I got something.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “Let me guess, you, uh... Put out the silverware in the wrong places? Kept a library book past its due date?”

“Oh hush,” you said, and his teasing turned to laughter. “Or else I won’t tell you.”

“All right, all right, what?” he said, and then fell silent, although there was still a smile on his lips, his cheeks rosy above the turned-up collar of his coat.

“When I was a kid, my parents bought me a bike for my ninth birthday,” you said. “I’d outgrown my old one, and I was going to get passed down my sister’s, but she left it in the driveway once and my dad drove over it on his way to work-” that pulled a burst of laughter from Bill, “-so they had to get me a new one. It was my first day riding it, and I was going fast; you know how when you get a new bike and everything’s all new and greased up well, you can really fly?” He nodded. “Well, I was doing that, whipping down the sidewalk. It’d rained the day before and there were a few puddles, but I didn’t really care since I was wearing stuff I didn’t mind getting dirty.”

“I don’t know where this is going, but it ain’t gonna end well, is it?” Bill asked as he passed you the bottle.

“No, it’s not.” You took a sip of the burning liquid and continued. “I couldn’t see one of our neighbors walking down to the sidewalk because they had a tall hedge at the edge of their property. So I didn’t think much of the puddle in front of their house. As it happened, I flew through that puddle right as Mr. Becker got to the sidewalk in a white flannel suit.” Bill laughed gleefully. “Well, it wasn’t so white after that. He started yelling and I got scared and rode like hell all the way home. Guess I thought I was going fast enough he didn’t see my face, but that was dumb ‘cause he only lived five houses up the block and he knew exactly who I was. He came and talked to my parents and I got my bike taken away for three weeks.”

“Wow,” Bill said, laughing. “I guess you aren’t a perfect angel after all; I’m impressed!”

“I s’pose so,” you said. “Happy now?”

“Yeah, I was trying to figure out if you really stand on as high a pedestal as I thought.” He wasn’t looking at you, focused instead on unscrewing the cap from the bottle of Scotch, but you were watching him, curious.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“Well, just that you seem a little more human now,” he replied, and when he met your eyes and saw the confusion on your face, he added, “Don’t worry, it’s a good thing.”

“Thanks?”

He chucked, nodding. “You’re welcome.”

The sun was sliding down toward the horizon rapidly, its weak light dying, and you nodded toward the blankets, which still hung over Bill’s shoulder. “Can I have one of those?”

“For a fee,” he said with a wink.

“Yeah? Do you accept chocolate?”

“It’s my number one form of currency these days,” he said, handing you one of the blankets as you withdrew a chocolate bar from one of your outer pockets and began to peel it open, tearing back the paper. You broke off a chunk and held it out to him, but instead of using his hands, which he had just slipped back into his pockets, he opened his mouth expectantly, and you placed the chocolate in it, cringing at the strong alcohol smell that his breath carried.

“What?” he asked as he bit down. “I got bad breath or something?” 

“Flammable, more like,” you said, breaking off a piece of chocolate for yourself.

The pair of you sat in comfortable silence then, your head resting against the door, and the blanket pulled tight around your shoulders. It was a cold night, but remarkably still, and the temperature was much more tolerable in the absence of wind. The sun set quickly as you shared the dessert, and soon full dark had fallen.

Bill pulled a pair of cigarettes from the pack in his pocket, and was searching for his lighter when a familiar fwoomp sounded from somewhere too close by, followed half a second later by another, and you barely had a chance to react before the first mortar landed just twenty feet away, exploding in flame and dirt and flying rocks, and Bill threw himself over you, crushing you back against the door, his body shielding yours as a second, and then third mortar exploded across the street. But you were barely thinking of the danger once the initial shock had passed, and the mortars’ impacts slowly moved away; instead the blood pumping through your veins, the thoughts rushing through your head- they were mostly because of Bill, how he’d reacted instantly to cover you, protecting you without any thought for his own well-being. The mortars fell farther and farther from you, and you knew the Germans didn’t really know you and he were right there - they were just trying to cause any damage they could and keep the troops there on their toes, but it didn’t stop the pounding of your heart, especially when you realized how closely Bill’s body was still pressed against yours even after the last mortar exploded and silence fell, his breath hot across your cheek as he said, “You okay?”

“Fine,” you said. “You?”

“Still in one piece, far as I can tell.” He pushed himself back a little, and steadied himself, his face just centimeters away; his gaze caught yours, and instantly you were drowning in his warm, dark eyes. He paused there for a long moment, a moment in which your heart clenched and that instinct you’d been pushing away all night told you to go ahead and make a move, but by the time you’d resolved to, the moment had already broken and he was shifting himself off you, settling back down on the stones. “Damn Krauts; never lettin’ us get a moment’s peace,” he grumbled.

You looked at him, saw the disappointment in his eyes as his hands fell into his lap, one thumbnail scratching at a rough patch on the other. You felt certain then, or at least, as certain as you thought you were going to feel, and you put away your inhibitions and let yourself speak the words on your lips.“What do you need a moment’s peace for?”

He looked over at you then, and you could read every emotion that passed across his face in the space of just a couple seconds. At first, just interest, his eyebrows raised slightly. Then a spark of curiosity, of hope, followed rapidly by uncertainty, and then, when you held his gaze, sureness, followed by…. A smirk? “You sure know how to manipulate a guy into making the first move,” he said, and then sat back, surprising you.

“I… what?” You’d been expecting him to kiss you, and you were so prepared for it, your brain lagged in adjusting when his actions diverged so sharply from the course you’d expected.

“I ain’t doing it,” he said, crossing his arms, and then his ankles, the picture of stubborn resolution, his gaze fixed on the hovel across the street. “I’m not gonna try and kiss you, just so you can pull back and act all hard to get. I know how you girls are.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Oh you do, do you?”

He looked back at you, and his eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t like that look. You look like you’re plotting something.” He hunched his shoulders in a little tighter as if to protect himself from you. “You gonna stab me and steal my money?”

“What money?” you said, laughing, but when he opened his mouth to protest, an indignant expression on his face, you surged toward him and cut him off with a kiss, pressing your lips firmly to his, and he stiffened, obviously startled, and then his posture softened, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him from your uncomfortable crouched position. He tasted like whiskey and chocolate, but that wasn’t what was so intoxicating about the kiss. You settled in his lap, your arms falling about his neck, one hand pulling off his helmet so you could push your fingers through his short hair as his chapped lips caressed yours, soft yet passionate. “You still think you know everything about me?” you murmured as he tugged your hair just hard enough to pull your head back, exposing your throat for him, his lips pulling a sound from you that made your cheeks redden, and you squeezed your mouth shut as he chuckled against your skin, kissing the spot he had just nipped.

“Maybe a little more than you’d like.” His voice was deep and quiet, and it alone would have been enough to make you shiver. Combined with what he was doing to you, it was nearly overwhelming, so you let your eyes close as he pulled you in a little tighter and slipped an arm inside your coat to wrap around your waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there. 

He stopped suddenly, and you opened your eyes, suddenly self-conscious, but when you looked at him, he was just smiling at you, the affection in his gaze so genuine it made your chest feel tight. “What?” you asked.

“Nothin,’” he said. “Just didn’t think joining the Army’d end me up with the prettiest girl on the western front in my lap.”

You felt your already flushed cheeks grow hotter. “You’re just saying that.”

“Think what you like; I’ll find a way to convince ya,” he said, and your heart jumped, and you leaned down to kiss him again. You knew the whiskey made you bolder than you usually would have been, but somehow, in this moment of peace, carved out from months of violence, cold, and fear, you had no doubts anymore about what you were doing. Bill had a big attitude, but it was one of the things you liked about him, and beneath all the big talk was a good man. A very good man.

“Guarnere!” Bill pulled back from the kiss, groaning at the sound of Malarkey’s voice somewhere nearby and you slipped off him, instantly missing his touch, and also his warmth as the cold night wrapped around you again. “You down here?”  Malark’s voice was at the end of the side street now, and Bill sat forward, sticking his head out of the doorway. 

“What?”

“Lip wants you for something. Sorry to interrupt whatever you got going on here.” He said the last with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, and Bill nodded.

“I’ll be right there.”

“All right.” As Malarkey’s footsteps retreated, Bill looked back at you, his expression equally frustrated and apologetic. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you said before he had a chance to speak. “We’ll do this again, yeah?” 

Your words seemed to restore his good spirits, and there was a suggestive twinkle in his eye when he said, “Yeah, minus Malark cutting in.”  He stood, extending a hand to you and you took it, letting him pull you to your feet. You didn’t stop yourself, letting your momentum carry you forward to press a kiss to his cheek, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, giving you a tight squeeze before he released you so you could walk out to the street.

“‘Night, Bill,” you said as you reached the main road, and he blew a kiss over his shoulder as he walked away, a swagger in his steps. It was then that you realized you’d never even thanked him for covering you when the mortars came in. But it could wait for next time.

[liam-cadmus]

The clinking of metal keys are heard throughout the porch of the house, the faint flickering of the street light making it barely visible to see . Sasuke fumbles with the keys, grunting in annoyance when it slipped again, the dangle of keys cold on his pale fingertips. He sighs out, seeing fog appear in front of his face as his shoe pushes snow aside. Squinting, he uses his left hand to hold the freezing door knob as he jabs a key in, exhaling in relief when it turned. He turns the knob, toeing off his boots only to blink, surprised of the light peeking out of the kitchen, as the keys gets placed in the plate by the door. He tugs off his coat, hanging it on the rack as he paddles through the hallway, the wooden panels underneath his socked feet smooth. He hides his excitement when he caught the aroma of spices and tomatoes. He walks to the door, leaning against it with crossed arms before awkwardly smiling to Shikamaru, “I’m home.”  Shikamaru rolls his eyes before snorting, placing a bowl of tomato soup on the counter as Sasuke walks behind him to the sink to wash his hands. Shikamaru busies himself while humming, while Sasuke rests his forehead on the middle of his shoulder blades, tired limbs circling his middle as he leans back. “Why’re you awake? You should’ve been sleeping by now,” Sasuke asks, while Shikamaru pries his arms off, guiding him to sit on a stool. Sasuke hides a wince when his skin stretches slightly, smiling uneasily to Shikamaru’s back. “Uh-huh, and let your pitiful ass try to find food at 2 am in the morning?” Shikamaru chides, kissing his temple when he kneeled down to sit in front of him. Sasuke huffs before taking the offered spoon, watching Shikamaru stifle a yawn. He smiles in gratitude before inhaling a whiff of the soup, slumping in bliss when the warm broth hits his tongue, savoring the taste. They talk between mouthfuls, Shikamaru’s training and week-long time off from the Hokage Tower, Kakashi letting him rest for all his troubles. He would give an amused grin or smirk when Kakashi’s tardiness made Shikamaru furious, humming and nodding on the appropriate times.  “You’re messy, “ Shikamaru snorts as he passes a tissue, making him wipe his lips, “I know, thank you.” He stands, walking around the table to press a kiss on his lover’s cheek before walking to the sink, folding his sleeves to settle on his elbows. He ignores the sting of pain when he reached up on the cupboard, taking a cup and filling it with cold water, and gulping it down.  He takes the sponge, scrunching it to show the suds, before scrubbing the bowl softly, listening to Shikamaru’s footsteps. “You’re injured,” Shikamaru murmurs to his ear, hand splayed over the strike on the left of his abdomen, irritation hidden under his worried tone. “I am.” he responds, confirming Shikamaru’s conclusion. “I didn’t expect you to not notice anyways,” he says softly as Shikamaru hisses, his other hand punching his arm, minding the fact that he’s wounded.  “Why didn’t you go to the hospital then?” He rolls his eyes, settling the clean bowl and utensils on the dry rack before turning around, letting Shikamaru rest his head on his shoulder. “I already did, and they gave me permission to  come home,” he mutters, Shikamaru leaning away to let their eyes meet. “They gave you permission or did you run away?”  He stares back scowling, before crossing his arms, “I did ask, they said it was okay to come home. I’m not allowed to take missions for a week, they’ll check if I heal earlier.” Shikamaru rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath on how troublesome Uchihas are, making Sasuke chuckle. Shikamaru narrows chocolate eyes, tight grip on his arm as he repeats the question, “So they did give you permission.” “Yes, Shika.” he answers exasperated, dropping his head on his shoulder, arms falling beside him. He mumbles, “You overthink too much, I’m fine.” he reassures, as Shikamaru hugs him, “What do you expect me to? You obviously prioritized going home over yourself.”  He pecks Shikamaru’s lips, before pulling him along, exhaustion and the cold seeping unto him. All he wants is to cuddle and sleep, goddammit. Although...he couldn’t exactly blame Shikamaru, the last time he went home, he was bleeding profusely, with a massive concussion, which baffled Shikamaru to the point that he can’t speak sentences. He mentally winces, before squeezing Shikamaru’s hand in comfort, “I’ll let you change the bandages, you can check it.”  Shikamaru lets out a breath behind him, making him smile, “You worry too much, Nara, you’ll have grey hairs before me.” he teases. Shikamaru huffs, his other dangling hand going in his pocket, the soft sweatpants tempting against Sasuke’s tight cotton pants. Shikamaru noticed this, “Come on, let’s hurry, you’re tired.”  Sasuke sits on the counter, removing the loose long-sleeve shirt over his head, letting Shikamaru see his mildly red bandages, pushing a roll of new ones to clever, tan hands. “Go to work, chop chop.” he leans back on his arms, his feet swaying. Shikamaru makes quick work of checking the wound, making sure that the bandages covered the wound properly, before prodding at his half-asleep lover. “Come on,” he tugs, for once carrying Sasuke’s tired form to the bedroom, helping him change into comfortable sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. The Uchiha runs warm, so he opts for a sweater himself, before settling Sasuke down on the bed and climbing in. He pulls the covers over them, a hand caressing Sasuke’s pink cheek, a lone dark eye peering at him. Sasuke smiles lovingly, before pulling him to a kiss, gently coaxing him, soft and slow, cautious. Shikamaru closes his eyes, smiling into it, their lips slotted perfectly, warmth spreading over his entire form.  He pulls away, resting his forehead against Sasuke’s, lips stretched to a smile to the point that his cheeks started hurting, before scooting closer, placing his head on Sasuke’s chest. Sasuke hums sleepily, hand moving to pull his ponytail away and untangling his strands. Eventually, his hand stills on top of his hair, breath evening out. He looks at his lover’s peaceful face with affection, knowing that he usually falls asleep first. He lets the rhythmic beats of his lover’s heart lull him to sleep, as the snow falls beautifully on the frosty pathways. I wrote this late at night, so I apologize for grammatical errors.