#I’ve said this before but it is really remarkable to me how every char and dynamic gets discoursed/hated on more than the pro lifer one

[cabeswaterdrowned]

went through your karen tag recently and omg how does it feel to have the most correct takes. i genuinely don't understand people who claim to like karen but then also want her to have ended up with gr*h*m. like he sucks so bad and personally i got the impression that they toned it down in the show but in the book the way he acts about her abortion is absolutely disgusting like. just throw out the whole man at this point. "she'll realise she wants to be a mother" fuck off and die.

thank youu for appreciating my takes 😌Yeah I do think his character is generally flattened/not as fleshed out in the show compared to the book also you don’t get monologues from every character in the show like you do in the book his internal monologue at points is like so… yikes.. to me. Literally positions himself as a victim for Karen not reciprocating his love for her and not wanting the life he wants for them, the whole bitter “women always seem to come out on top (unlike poor disenfranchised beta males like me)” thing like it was giving meninist energy at times. And then like you said everything about his reaction to her abortion is just awful and you read in the book how awful it made Karen feel and the dehumanizing element of how he ended up viewing her.. like I honestly don’t get why people downplay how bad it was whether in their minds or when talking about the ship. Especially since tjr has her flaws in terms of feminism and so does djats, but I do actually think their storyline was meant to showcase a more realistic/dangerous side to a type of romance you see portrayed a lot with a self-possessed woman who wants to be non-monongomous and free and not marry or have children, and a guy who is like a white Knight to her and convinces her she actually wants those things/needs to change to his idea of womanhood. I’m glad this story never went there and took the “love conquers all” approach, and that it was shown as something that would inevitably implode. (Which is why I find it very hilarious that there are people who read the book and go “the moral of the story is that because Daisy and Billy are framed as not being able to work as a functional relationship rn / are as dysfunctional and messy as they are they should not be shipped romantically” and then go “Karen and Graham are so wholesome and perfect wish they got their happy ending :(((“ like those are both flawed relationships where love that was there (from Graham to Karen which she did not reciprocate in the book, between Billy and Daisy who both explicitly admit that they were in love with each other reiterating both those points because some takes I’ve seen um,,) didn’t out way problems that were there. You can ship it or not based on what’s compelling to you (for me toxic twin flames mutually pining and sublimating through their art >>>> whatever that is any day of the week). 

I also don’t really understand how people can love Karen and love them and definitely not how they can want the ship to be her endgame… I’m not going to say something as extreme as that they can’r genuinely like her while liking it, I mean I ship my favs with trash men all the time and I tend to have my reasons that I’m cognizant of for why the dynamic appeals to me. But these people definitely enjoy her character in a very different way than I do / have very different priorities than mine regarding her and I do find myself side eyeing more than a little bit. Nice guy pursuer ships tend to attract the most insufferable people to go hard for them (show! Eddie x Camila is another example of this, and I think there’s a similar tendency to be over sympathetic to Graham and show! Eddie for not getting to *win*. Which on it’s own annoying, but especially if I’m seeing someone express that this is how they feel but then call Daisy pathetic for her feelings for Billy I am BITING. Especially because, pathetic how??? Billy is obsessed with her 😭) 

I can’t bring myself to be particularly upset that Graham’s *feelings* were given less air time in the show than in the book, regardless of effects on the story or losing certain scenes. I think the specific line they had him say in the show (literally telling her she will be alone forever because she doesn’t want to have kids / have the type of white picket fence life he wants fuck off!) struck a lot of people as more obviously terrible than his response in the book but like… his response - and his whole mentality around it - in the book is terrible! I think some of the various crit about the show making certain characters worse is because the chars in the show aren’t able to justify/narrativize their actions and motivations and everything to the audience in the same way, and that effecting how people perceive them, more than the characters actually acting/being worse than they’re written to be in the book and this is an example to me, and I kind of judge people a little for having so much sympathy for Graham in the book or show (like your favs are your favs, but I’ve yet to see someone who loves his character be appropriately critical of him not saying they don’t exist I just haven’t seen it. and those types of fans are rarer for chars in his archetypes, you see more of people wanting to call them pure and unproblematic cinnamon rolls. And like I said same goes for how people tend to perceive him and Karen as the “unproblematic couple”). 

[ninthprime]

mildly arbitrary rating of every gundam i have watched so far

in order of me starting them

witch from mercury: 7.5/10. we’re never gonna get confirmation of people’s various theories that this show was originally planned for 50 episodes and i’ve also heard that the showrunner’s series tend to be kind of just Like This, but gwitch has a lot of missed potential mostly focused on 1. its seemingly incomplete worldbuilding and 2. the fact that the arcs of much of its secondary cast (guel, nika, shaddiq) appear to jump over a few steps or just are missing something. on the other hand, the arcs of its primary cast (particularly suletta) are great, suletta herself is a top-tier protagonist, the tertiary cast is one of the best i’ve seen in gundam (i love earth house), and sulemio is probably objectively the best gundam romance even if i’m pretty sure it’s not my personal favorite.

gundam 0079: 9.5/10. the GOAT. you know how it is. every single person who got into gundam via gwitch like i did but still hasn’t gone back to watch 0079 is doing themself a total disservice. you watch this show and both everything about mecha and everything about modern anime in general suddenly clicks completely in your brain. everyone who has been obsessed with char aznable and amuro ray for the last 40+ years has been completely right. i think its only big flaws are some of its treatment of women (though later shows like ZZ have way more glaring issues there) and its shortened length, but frankly if you hadn’t told me it got cut short seven episodes early i would not have noticed, because its finale may be one of my all time favorite television finales ever. just go watch it. i’m sitting you down right now

zeta gundam: 8.5/10. a really ideal sequel in a lot of ways that are remarkable considering the gap of time between it and 0079. focuses on new characters who reflect on the last show while still being their own things, and brings back the cast of the last show in ways that feel like they make sense while still being unexpected and making you look at things in a new light. deeply iconic and atmospheric in ways that are a little overwhelming at times; it is a dour show. has way more glaring flaws for me than a lot of the fandom brings up though, mostly in its pacing and its villains. this show has an entire middle section i barely remember and do we need both the four and rosamia storylines? and frankly i do not care about the titans that much (other than sarah).

zz gundam: 8.5/10. zz defender crop is here. please ignore everyone who tells you that you can skip zz. zeta’s other half in ways that aren’t just “it started two weeks after zeta in real life”- it also fixes zeta’s pacing, provides a welcome counterpoint to its dire tone, and its villains are literally just improved versions of zeta’s (glemy is better scirocco! haman is a top tier gundam villain in general!). i think the middle section of this show- the entire time they are on earth- is my favorite section of UC gundam, or at least tied with 0079’s ramba ral and finale arcs. i do think the dip in quality people say it has in the last arc is true. also probably has the largest Woman Problem in any gundam i’ve seen so far (i have a threshold for bad women writing so high it is practically antifeminist but unfortunately emary breaks that threshold, what the hell is up with everything about emary) even though i love some of those women very much. secretly has the boldest and most thematically interesting gundam finale so far. ple forever

char’s counterattack: 8/10. as i’ve said before: a gorgeous film about two men being so divorced that thousands of people die. genuinely iconic and also very bold but i often find myself torn as to whether i want tomino to be more explicit about what he’s saying here. we could have saved ourselves years of “was char right??” debates but then again, it’s the spirit of cca to claim that only you have the right take about cca. beyond the time is a good song

gundam unicorn: 7.5/10. politics here are often confusing and messy, and i think it suffers from its core characters (banagher and mineva) and their relationship not getting the time they need. on the other hand, i’m interested in what it says about the worldbuilding of UC (even if i think it didn’t execute it that well) and its secondary cast is great; i did nearly cry about marida and zinnerman so that sure works. full frontal does not bug me nearly as much as he bothers most people although i think he has the same “needs more time to cook” issue banagher and mineva have. i even kind of like what they do with riddhe and i usually dislike that archetype. in other words: i would have been nuts for the forty episode (and properly paced) version of this show. marida forever

gundam hathaway: 7/10?? hard to tell here without having the next two movies. was a bit hard to get invested in the conflict near the end as we met many characters who are not developed yet. but the relationship between the core trio here is intriguing and i like hathaway as a protagonist a lot.

the rest of my “gundams i am most interested in list” is victory -> turn a -> 00 -> iron blooded orphans so that’s the next four shows. after…who can say

[byorder-fanfic]

How They Look After You When it Gets Bad: Bonnie

Preference Masterlist

Requested by anonymous

Word count: 1727

Warnings: Reader going through a hard time, suggestive comments, swearing, Bonnie gets hurt (emotionally), not favourable descriptions of Small Heath (apologies to any Brummie readers- it’s for the plot)

Author's Note: Hi! I’ve had some trouble with the Ada and Finn preferences so I’m mixing up the order a bit. Those who’ve requested, your fics will be out soon! If there’s any other characters you want me to write for, feel free to make any more requests. Hope you enjoy and I’m wishing you all my best

(Gif by @sophieshelby) 

The Golds were travellers. It's what you loved the most about their life, the life that you jumped into in the greatest leap of faith that came with loving Bonnie. Now, whilst watching him ditch button-ups in favour of short vests, giving you full view of his lean arms attacking bags and people with so much strength was fun, it was the wind in your hair as you sat behind him on his horse, arms wrapped around his middle, it was huddling up in your shared bed in the caravan and arguing as to whether or not you could fit another ugly knitted blanket on top of the rest of them, and the maps you kept in a drawer that was slowly becoming more crosses than roads with all the places you've visited- it was that which made you love this life all the more. Plus, living with you Bonnie and his family (who had welcomed you with open arms the second Bonnie introduced you) created a second home, a home that lived on wheels and trotted down dirt paths. You knew that Bonnie getting his boxing licence would make the travelling come to a halt, and Small Heath would have to be home for as long as there was a job to be done and a reward to be reaped. And you were okay with that. You really were. Maybe there were a few tears as you hugged Esmerelda, Naomie and especially little Floss (she was desperate to see Bonnie go head to head with the Peaky Blinders!) goodbye as they continued travelling, you knew Bonnie felt the absence of his sisters more than you would. So, you made sure he never felt lonely, and the bed never felt empty; well, it wasn't as if it was a particularly difficult task to keep him company.

Small Heath was not a particularly enthralling place. Although you were on friendly terms with the Shelbys and their clan (and that was no exaggeration, they multiplied like rabbits!) and, after many, many threats from both the elder and younger Gold, none of the younger Peakys were planning on making a move on you, it was the place itself that seemed to bore you. All those things that you'd learned to love from your life on the road- the fresh air, the constant movement, the friendly welcomes when you saw another caravan cross your path, and the freshly caught food cooked over an open fire- there was none of that here. The sky was full of fumes that burnt more than the dark char of over-exposed meat, there was no patches of grass or flowers and everything was so fucking grey. Grey streets, grey sky, and a very grey mood for you. Sometimes, when Bonnie and Aberama were busy with the Peaky business that they left you out of, you'd just go over to the Cut and sit by the water to get even the slightest feeling of being back amongst the rivers and streams where you and Bonnie would set a number of ugly knitted blankets down and spend the night besides. You always thought the sound of water, and the view of the stars was the best way to fall asleep. Bonnie said the best way was next to you. You loved him, you truly did, but things were getting hard. Bonnie was always so busy now, between boxing and whatever the hell Tommy bloody Shelby had him apart of. Wrapped up next to him under all the blankets was the most time you spent with him, and he was usually so spent from work that he was snoring after seconds of laying his head on the pillow. All you could do was hope he didn't wake as you breathed softly next to him, trying to ward off sleep as much as you can just to see him as much as you can. By the time the sun rose, he was already up and at it. In stinking Small Heath.

You didn't want to resent him for bringing you here. You wanted to be proud of him when he boasted about getting his boxing license. You wanted to be happy for him when he came back, completely sloshed, after a night out at the Garrison with the Peaky boys he'd gotten close to, and he smelt like bloody whiskey and cigarettes when he cuddled up to you, drunkenly nuzzling his nose into your neck. You hated whiskey and cigarettes. Well, at least you think you did. You hated everything right now. You had tried to distract yourself from this frustration that was slowly building up in you, especially after you 'accidentally' broke one of the cups Naomie had made. You would pay for that when you saw her again. You had gotten Charlie Strong and Curly's permission to help with the horses in the stables. Eventually, though, you just felt sorry for the poor buggers: trapped in a scrap yard in a place full of people and so little greenery. Of course, you refused to admit you were projecting your own feelings on them. After feeling lonely for too long, you decided to make friends with the Shelbys. The Peaky boys that Bonnie had become fast friends with were nice enough, and Bonnie was happy for the excuse to see you more. As for the Shelbys, you had to be honest, they were a bit bloody scary. Esmerelda had made sure you were prepared for them, and you kept a whittling knife on your person every time you left the isolating sanctuary of the caravan, so you knew full well you could keep yourself safe amongst the blood and gore of the gangsters.

Eventually though these feelings caught up with you. You didn't even bother leaving the caravan today, knowing the streets were only going to further sour your mood and, even the bright presence of Bonnie's sleepy, half-awake smile, couldn't stop your erratic scrubbing of the plates. Ever since the Naoime's-broken-pottery-you were-sure-to-pay-for incident, you had only been entrusted with the metal pots and pans that weren't so easy to shatter. Still, you managed to scrub the metal dish in such a way to rouse the weary boxer. He had the day off, as Arthur had told you the night before when you sat in the Garrison, and the rest of the boys gave such a cheer their whiskey splattered on your dress. Bonnie had blushed, but you could see the hints of mischief in his smirk. And, with Aberama taking last night and today back in Small Heath, there was no misunderstanding Bonnie's intentions. You heard his stumbling foot steps as you moved further out of the open caravan door, focusing far too much on the washcloth and the practically sparkling pot that you still scrubbed.

"Hey, dove," he said in  sing-song tone that usually made your heart melt. Now it made your blood boil.

"Mornin' Bon," you replied back, far too snappy for his soft voice. 

He was startled. You didn't have to see his face to know he had flinched, feeling the sudden twinge of pain in the air like a broken string.

"Are you alright?" He asked, kindly, reaching down to rest his hand over yours. Instantly, you dropped the pan and cloth on the floor, hearing it crash against the soft grass.

"Well, you'd know if you'd have been there!" Along with your swift movement to stand up, the fierceness in your voice made Bonnie back away into the caravan. He saw the frustration clear in your face, and his shoulders hung in shame. He knew he'd been busy- too busy- and it must've hurt you.

"I'm so sorry, dove, I swear I'm trying to do this for us." 

"For you! And all I fucking do is stay in this fucking city!"

"It's not for long- then we can have that life we planned, with the boxing licence and our own caravan and-"

"And I don't wanna be here!"

You screamed it so loud that you were sure the birds in the trees surrounding you had flapped away from your voice like a shot had been fired from one of the Golds' many, many guns. And Bonnie seemed like he wanted to flee too, face so smushed up and hurt.

"I hate this place! It's dirty and cold and it smells like fucking shit!" 

Bonnie felt his whole body crumble at the tightness in your face, the look of pure anger making your fists squeeze in so tight he knew your nails would be digging in. He was the boxer and it was of his opinion that you should never have to raise a fist like this. You must hate him. You must do, and he was feeling his broad shoulders dip at the wildness that flickered in your eyes.

"I don't want to be here!" It was the crack in your voice that revealed yourself. A crack that mended Bonnie's wounded expression into that of concern. You didn't hate him. You didn't. You probably didn't even mind stinking old Small Heath. 

"Then how about we get outta here?" He suggested, giving you that lopsided grin that always made you childishly giddy. Even now, with frustration embedding your palms, you felt a kinder warmth flood to your cheeks. With more confidence, he moved towards you, cupping your cheek as you felt yourself just drop a little without the weight of frustration on your shoulders.

"Please," you muttered, leaning forward to rest your forehead against yours. "I want fresh air and empty fields and a blanket next to a stream."

"Just you and me lying down and looking at the stars?"

"That's all, Bon."

"Then you'll get it. Let's get changed, pack some food and we can get on a horse and just keep on riding, ey?" You chuckled a little at his romantic proposition, burying yourself closing into his grasp. "And get out of smelly old Small Heath that's been keeping me away from my dove."

"You're gonna have a lot of time to make up for." A little bit of frustration still hung in your mind, but the sweet look of adoration on your Bonnie's face was enough to soothe it into a cheeky remark.

"Indeed I do," he whispered into your neck. His expression got sadder again. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XXI

Part I - - - - - - - - Part XVIII - - - - Part XIX - - - - Part XX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

“This is Master Kit Fisto, requesting permission to land.”

“Hold on one moment please, General Fisto.”

A crackling sound filled the air while Ahsoka bounced her leg anxiously up and down in the copilot’s seat.

“I’ve been told to redirect your shuttlecraft to auxiliary seven. Sending coordinates now.”

“Aux Seven?” Kit frowned at the comm. “Are you certain? That’s a deployment pad.”

“Affirmative, High Council Orders. You and Commander Tano are to land on aux seven. Have you received the coordinates?”

“Yes, yes- I know where I’m going. Thank you. Over.”

“Over.”

Ahsoka shot the Nautolan Master an anxious look.

“Maybe they realized Obi-Wan’s injuries were actually an attack and they’re redeploying me and Skyguy to go after the jerk responsible?” the Padawan asked hopefully.

Master Fisto grimaced. “I would hope they’re not sending you out into the field so soon but I suppose the Ghost Nebula crisis has been escalating. Ahsoka...if they are assigning you a mission and you’d rather stay at the temple-”

“I should be with Master Skywalker and the 501st,” Ahsoka said resolutely. “I shouldn’t have left them in the first place. Skyguy said I could help the war and see Lee Char and I just-” Ahsoka cut herself off with a slight snarl.

Kit sighed. “You’re a remarkable padawan and commander. I simply wanted to let you know I’m happy to support you if you wish to rest.”

The young tortugan bounced her leg a little more. “Thank you Master Fisto, but I’m fine.”

They spent the rest of the short flight in silence. When they finally reached the landing pad, they were met by a small contingent from the 501st, as well as Master Windu himself, who greeted them with a short bow and a placid expression.

“Master Fisto, Padawan Tano, I trust your flight went smoothly?”

“Yes, Master Windu,” Kit and Ahsoka said in unison.

“Padawan Tano- is there any thing I should be aware of that would prevent you from shipping off with the 501st? I regret that you won’t have time at the temple but...situations are escalating rapidly and it’s been agreed that the best place for you is onboard the Dauntless.”

Ahsoka straightened her spine. “I’m ready for my next mission Master Windu.”

“Sir-” Captain Rex interjected, “Does this mean that General Skywalker isn’t stepping down from command anymore? Surely you’re not shipping Ahsoka off alone?”

A muscle throbbed in Master Windu’s forehead. “General Skywalker’s status is classified.”

Captain Rex opened his mouth.

“As is General Kenobi��s. You will simply have to trust in the High Council’s decision. Padawan, follow the Captain to his transport shuttle. Master Fisto, you’re with me.”

Ahsoka started to move in a daze but Kit stopped her with a gentle hand to her shoulder.

“Mace- surely you can tell young Tano more than that before sending her out- she’s already partially informed regarding the situation with Master Kenobi. I realize time is of the essence but a Padawan’s place is with their Master, correct?”

The troops shifted and Captain Rex openly scrutinized General Windu. The Jedi looked calm. Too calm. He was hiding something. Obviously. 

“I’m afraid it’s all classified, including what you’ve already been told. All I can tell you right now is... to trust in your General.”

Rex, already close to his breaking point, snapped at Windu. “Are you talking about Krell?! That demagolka is-”

“Watch your language, Captain.”

“Yes, sir.”

Master Fisto frowned heavily “Mace, I’m not comfortable with this. As a fellow council member, I ask we delay sending Ahsoka until we’ve had a chance to discuss things further- I’m happy to fly her to a rendezvous with the 501st if that’s what we decide.”

Windu shook his head firmly. “I’m afraid that time of the essence and the matter isn’t open to discussion. You have your assignments. Padawan Tano will be technically placed under Master Krell’s watch, though I’m explicitly assigning her to focus on her duties with the 501st. Padawan, you’re to focus on your military responsibilities with Captain Rex, not training with Krell; he’s received a copy of my orders in the regard. Everyone needs to trust that the council has- a bigger picture than any one campaign, or any one person.”

A hint of frustration crept in Master WIndu’s tone and Ahsoka swallowed down her bitter thoughts.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, saluting the Master of the Order with military precision. Rex snapped off a salute as well, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder before guiding her away.

“Mace, what the-”

“Not here.”

“I’m not-”

“Not. Here.”

Master Fisto cast one last look at the retreating 501st before chasing after the Human Jedi Master, the force too turbulent to tell him if it was the right decision.

To Kit’s continuing dismay, he was led not inside the temple, but to a nearby speeder. Mace was dead silent for the short walk, gesturing silently to enter. Kit’s lips tightened but he climbed in, a temple guard starting to fly the moment the doors shut.

“Mace-”

“Read this,” Master Windu said brusquely, pushing a datapad into the Nautolan Master’s hands.

Master Fisto scanned the screen, large eyes growing wider the longer he read. 

“No!” Kit gasped, floundering in the force for reassurance, but Mace’s shields were like durasteel. Kit softened slightly.

“Master Kenobi...you really don’t know where he is?” 

Mace stared out the window.

“Keep reading,” he said hollowly.

“...You think he might attempt to assassinate Dooku? AND the Chancellor? By himself?”

“He was...disconnected from reality at points,” Mace said carefully. “He was aware of that fact, but seemed to blame the Sith and the Politicians for the war. His...trust in the Order is severely shaken.”

Kit continued to scroll through the pad, pausing and reeling in horror. “He stabbed Skywalker?!”

Mace nodded tersely. “And now Skywalker’s AWOL as well. He handled Obi-Wan’s initial...breakdown as well as can be expected, given the circumstances, but his continued shocking behavior after waking up...Skywalker was already severely shaken before Kenobi got to the worst of his ramblings.”

“Force,” Kit said heavily, rubbing his forehead.

“I know I wasn’t fair to Padawan Tano, but the council felt the need to get her off planet and away from specifically dangerous elements.”

Master Fisto groaned, leaning back. “I can’t believe the expansion region is considered a safer option than the temple.”

Kit looked out the window. “Mace...why are we heading to the Senate Rotunda?” 

Windu seemed, impossibly, to tense up even further. “I need you to brief the Chancellor on Kenobi.”

Kit’s head whipped around, tentacles flailing behind. “I just landed on planet,” he responded in disbelief. “Wouldn’t it be better for someone was actually there to do that?”

“I can’t,” Mace said, a hint of anguish breaking through his shields and voice, before his jaw clenched shut.

Kit drew back, alarmed by the falter in stoicism.

Master Windu’s collected himself with a shaky breath. “I have to ready the 187th; with Kenobi and Skywalker out of the picture we need every General on the front lines now. I’m sure the Chancellor will agree, once you brief him on how dire the situation is.”

There was a short pause as the two collected their thoughts.

“...The last few days have been hell, haven’t they?” Kit asked quietly.

The Harrun Kal Jedi chuckled darkly at that. “They’re nothing compared to the shit-show that’s about to unfold.” 

Master Fisto bent over, dropping his face to his hands. 

Windu steeled himself before continuing on. “I need you to organize the Chancellor’s defense. Try to stress to him that he should be guarded by a Jedi at all times- tell him- tell him whatever you have to about Kenobi, so far he only knows that he was ill, but you’re authorized to give more details than I previously disclosed- his medical file is attached. Tell him our worst suspicions if need be. The fact that you’ve been off-world...makes you...above suspicion in some respects. I’m...sorry Kit. I know I’m throwing you in without proper support but...it’s the best I can do. You’re going to have to explain to the Chancellor how stretched thin we are.”

The Nautolan smiled weakly. “You don’t have to apologize, Mace, you’re the one heading to the front.”

Mace didn’t reply.

The speeder arrived at the Senate Entrance.

Kit steadied himself, grabbing the datapad and holding it like a shield as he marched inside. The speeder peeled away, heading back to the temple. Master Gallia pulled off the temple guard mask, frowning even as she navigated back the way they came.

“I don’t like this plan,” she protested again.

“Neither do I,” Mace agreed. “Do you have a better one?”

“We don’t know that Sidious’s mental abilities are that strong,” she said desperately.

“We don’t,” Mace agreed again. “All we know is that he’s subtle enough to conceal himself from us for over a decade while gradually steering us towards destruction, and also powerful enough to defeat us all in combat.”

Adi Gallia took a long meditative breath, desperately seeking calm as the force roiled, massive waves of upheaval rippling across the galaxy.

XXII

[midnightseonghwa]

𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 | 𝐣.𝐲𝐡

𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐮 - 𝟑

✕𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dragon Shifter!Yunho x Human!Reader 

✕𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Dragon shifter, Halloween, Soulmate Au, Angst, fluff 

✕𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.9k+

✕𝐏𝐥𝐨𝐭: The only thing you had wanted from that day was closure but sometimes, fate’s strings can untangle and pull you towards something much more treasureable. Alternatively: “To treasure your soul more than the gold and diamonds he collects.”  

✕𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: There is violence, blood and death. Things are a bit fast paced. The setting of the story is very ambiguous. Like very...somethimes it’s the modern world but sometimes it’s not (bear with me here). The reader (you) are a bit of an outcast and have a bad past. Mentions of soulmates and hunters. But overall, Yunho is such a cutie...I just couldn’t not write soft fluff...hehe 

✕𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Unedited

✕𝐀/𝐍: Remember that this is fiction. Enjoy! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. Leave a comment under this post or message me! This is pretty cliched but who doesn’t like a cliche plot every now and then. I will revisit this though...I feel like there are a lot of plot holes but that is a story for another day...Thank you to the anon who decided to give me that extra encouragement and support, this being posted much earlier than what I had in mind...I have some special love for that anon <3

✕𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @pancakes-for-teddy​ 

✕𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜: Here 

You felt a disgraceful feeling creep up the back of your throat as you walked into the small shop that looked horribly suspicious. Your friend had informed you that they dealt with all things. Anything sparkly and they would take it off your hands at a reasonable price.

At first, you had been a little off-put by her description of their service but you were desperately trying to get rid of an item and even the slightest bit of off-put feelings were not going to stray you.

The little bell above the door tinkled as you pushed it open, the dust on the door flying about, causing you to cough and wheeze a little.

"Good afternoon! Welcome to Wonderland, how may I help you today?" A cheery voice greeted you from behind the counter and you came face to face with a boy, maybe the same age as you or a year older. His hair resembled the colour of charred orange and you could even smell a faint fruity but toasty smell coming from him.

"Hi, I heard you guys could...take something off my hands?" You said shyly and clutched your bag tighter around your shoulder.

The boy smiled and came out from behind the counter.

"My elder brothers are actually not here at the moment..." he trailed off and sheepishly scratched the back of his neck.

"And?" You asked, the small hope in your body blackening to ash as you realised that what they did for your friend might've been a one-time thing.

"Well...ugh. Okay, just come around here and I can try to help you out," he said and led you to the backroom.

He wasn't planning on killing you or anything...right?

You followed the auburn-haired boy meekly as he led you down a narrow corridor and then opened up one of the rooms.

"Come in," he said and watched with a smile as you gaped and gawked shamelessly at the amount of precious and semi-precious stones that were sparkling on the wall.

"You'll be surprised how desperate people can be for money...or even closure sometimes," he said and turned to look at you with a cheeky smile.

You touched the various pieces of jewellery swearing at the light that reflected off of every cut and chisel in the stone. You could've sworn that you had seen some of these pieces hanging off the necks of the royals you had seen in your high school history textbook.

"How old are these?" You asked and the boy laughed with his teeth on display.

"Pretty old, ancient if I can say but my brothers take care of them really well. They're a sort of treasure, you know?"

You snorted at his last remark and peeked at the article you had come to handoff. Compared to all the extravaganza lining the walls, yours looked like a rock you had picked up from the beach.

"I can only imagine what sort of treasure..." you trailed off and let your eyes roam the room one last time.

"Now, show me. I've been dying to see what you're so eager to get rid off."

The boy was practically bouncing off the walls. His smile was reaching the tips of his eyes and you felt a small pang in your heart at the betrayal he was going to feel once you showed him.

"Well...it's nothing much..." you said and wrung your fingers together. You fished through your bag and produced a small velvet blue pouch that was tied by drawstrings.

The boy pushed a tray towards you and watched in odd fascination as you tipped the pouch onto the tray to produce a monstrous diamond ring. It was almost the size of one of your eyes and the way the boy looked at it, you could tell that even he was quite astonished at the size of it.

Raising an eyebrow, he held the diamond closer to his face, giving it a quick sniff and then holding it to his eye.

"I have no idea where you got this from but I'm sure Yunho hyung will be glad I decided to help you," the boy mumbled under his breath and you exhaled sharply at his comment.

That meant he was willing to take it off you right?

Placing the ring back on the tray, the boy gave you a smile, "I think you-" he started but was quickly interrupted when another voice sounded in the room.

"Jongho, how many time have I told you- oh," the voice said and you turned to face probably one of the tallest humans you had ever seen in your life.

With stark white-ish silver hair and pale skin, he was at least two heads taller than you. His eyes were the colour of soil on a warm spring day and you find yourself staring a little when the boy, apparently named Jongho coughed to gain your attention.

"Yunho hyung! I was just thinking about you! This person here has something I think you're going to like," Jongho said and ushered Yunho into the room.

The male, Yunho's eyes never left yours and you found yours following his figure as well. You felt the strings of fate finally untangle and pull you towards the male who was standing in front of you.

"Yes, uhm..." Yunho muttered and looked at you with a puppy-like smile.

"What can I help you with," he said and you suddenly found it very difficult to get any words out.

"They want you to get rid of that ring," Jongho said and handed the ring to Yunho who looked pleased with the big size of it.

"May I ask where you got this from?" He said and you sighed a little before biting your lip.

"It's my engagement ring," you said and shook your head when you noticed the smile drop from the two boys' face.

"No no, it's alright. It was an arranged marriage anyway and thankfully he was able to kick the bucket before he could walk down the aisle," you laughed sorrowfully and heard Jongho snigger before Yunho slapped his arm.

"Well, for what it's worth, we'll gladly take this off your hands. I hope you can get the closure you deserve," Yunho said and put the ring back into the pouch before turning to one of the displays on the wall.

"Thank you," you said and exhaled as a weight lifted itself off your chest. You were finally able to leave that part of your life behind.

"Before you go," Yunho said and placed in front of you a small translucent white and silver satin pouch with drawstrings.

"I think this will be a nice little replacement for the piece you are giving up," he said and you picked up the pouch to inspect the content on the inside.

Although the fabric was slightly blocking your view, you concluded that whatever parts you could see where a guarantee that the piece would be a lovely one.

While you inspected the piece, Jongho looked at Yunho with wide-eyes and a smile as the older boy nodded back in silent confirmation.

"I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you," you said and smiled, warming Yunho's heart.

"Just come back and visit us sometime," Yunho said and you nodded, agreeing to the male's request.

"Before you leave, can I at least get your name?" He said and blushed a little before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"It's (Y/n)."

"(Y/n)," Yunho sighed dreamily and flopped onto one of the chairs at the back of the shop.

"Who's (Y/n)," one of his brothers, Mingi asked as he entered the room with the rest.

"His soulmate," Jongho piped up from the other end as the boys erupted into awe-struck comments and questions.

"Is this...(Y/n), a dragon as well?" Mingi's question, although in sheer excitement, sank Yunho's heart.

His soulmate was not a dragon...you were a human...

"No...(Y/n)'s a human," Yunho mumbled and Mingi quieted down with a shocked face.

"Hey, hey it's alright, hyung. They accepted your courting gift, that has to mean something right?"

Yunho smiled at his youngest brother. Jongho was right, you had accepted his courting gift and that had to mean something right?

"Yeah, I'm sure it means something," he said but this time, his big and dreamy smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Meanwhile, you couldn't help but let curiosity get the better of you when you reached back home. Quite literally pushing your shoes off, you scattered up to the kitchen island and turned on one of the spotlights.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out the satin pouch and laid it against the granite countertop. You undid the drawstrings and tipped it onto the counter when a gold chain attached to some sort of stone slinked out of it.

You held it up to the yellow light and watched as the teardrop-shaped stone sparkled under it. It was an opaque white with small gold flecks. Its colour resembled Yunho's hair and you find yourself giggling lightly at the thought.

The stone was smooth under your touch and had a gold hook that was connecting it to the chain.

Undoing the clasps and stringing the necklace around your neck, you smiled as the stone sat perfectly right beneath where your collarbones met and for some reason, you felt as if the necklace was made for you.

"(Y/n), you will not believe-" your friend poured into the living room, her hair wild as she stopped in front of you who was still sitting at the kitchen counter.

"Where did you get that from?" She asked and pointed to the necklace on your neck. Your hand instinctively flew up and guarded it against your friend's prying eyes.

"Someone gave it to me," you said dismissively but she raised her eyebrows, giving you a suspicious look.

"Is that person a special someone?" She asked and you sighed, toying with the white stone, the light reflecting off the stone causing reflections on the wall.

"I wish," you sighed and thought back to Yunho's handsome face. Everything about him seemed too good to be real. What kind of man with that face and height walked around single?

But he did seem interested in you...

You dismissed that thought what a shake of your head. Of course, he seemed interested in you. You practically gave off your ring worth millions for nothing but closure and a white stone necklace.

"Okay, regardless. (Y/n), apparently, there have been dragon spottings around here," your friend said and nudged herself closer to you. She had a serious look on her face but you couldn't help but let out a small mocking laugh slip out.

"Didn't dragons all get hunted down?" You asked with a slight tilt in your head and your friend just shook her head.

"Apparently there are still some left. The town's hunters are going to look for them now."

You gulped at your friend's statement. Dragons were beautiful creatures, royals of the skies and here your kind was, sick puny humans, biting off more than they could chew.

"Why can't the town's people leave them alone?" You reasoned and your friend sighed before leaning her head against the counter.

"Human are always scared of the things they can't control," she said and you found yourself nodding at her statement.

A wave of silence took over before your friend got up and walked to the fridge.

"What do you want for dinner?" She asked and you shook your head, politely declining her question.

"I'm good, thanks. Just probably going to go and get some fresh air."

Your friend looked at you sceptically, pulling some vegetables from the fridge and then nodding.

"Alright, but be careful, don't go to the outskirts of town."

Gathering your things, you thanked your friend and walked down the road, the town eerily quiet with most of the people hiding.

Your footsteps echoed in the air around you as they trudged through the dirt, your shoes kicking small pebbles and stones as you walked on, ignoring your friend's warning and going towards the outskirts, the forest.

"Hey!" A voice caught your attention as you turned around and saw a man run up to you.

"What're you doing here? Don't you know about the dragons?" He sneered and stumbled back a bit as he came closer and closer to you.

"I-" you started but were interrupted when he let out another disgusted sneer.

"Or are you one of them? One of those pesky human shifters? Maybe I should skin you and take your scales home for my family," he said and you bit back the whimpers that were threatening to fall out of your mouth.

The man grabbed your arm as he pushed you into a secluded corner of the street, weapon raised he was just about to strike when a loud roar sounded in the air, causing the man to lose his focus and falter a bit.

You took this opportunity and ran. Ran as if your life depended on it; which it did. You could hear his heavy footsteps behind you as you quickly tried to lose him by rounding a corner but that only slowed you down and before you knew, he had caught you by the hair, making you fall onto your back, hitting the asphalt with a sickening skid.

"Show yourself to me you disgusting creature," he said and raised his hand when a voice sounded behind him.

"Don't you dare touch (Y/n)."

You recognised the voice as Jongho's, the same burnt orange hair peeking over at you with concern as your attacker turned around with a furious glare.

"Who are you?" He demanded as Jongho helped you up and ushered you to the side.

"None of your business," Jongho responded and you watched in shock as the boy's eyes flared a rich golden colour.

Your attacker's eyes widened when he saw Jongho's eyes change colour, the blood draining from his face as he sank to his knees, begging for his life.

Not giving the man a glance, Jongho pulled you along and started running towards the forests on the outskirts of town.

"Jongho..." you panted as the male pulled you along, "Where are we going? And...and your eyes...are you a dragon?"

Jongho let out a frustrated groan before turning around to face you.

"(Y/n), there's no time to explain, okay? Right now, I need your help."

"Jongho, what do you mean? Why do you need my help? Jongho, I-" you stuttered and stumbled in your steps before Jongho held you by the shoulders.

"(Y/n)! Listen to me! Yunho hyung, he's hurt. Please, you have to help him. You're the only one who can help him."

Your world stopped spinning as you registered Jongho's words. At the thought of Yunho hurt, a deadly amount of pain unfurled in your body as you hunched over, trying to soothe the pain.

"Jongho, what's happening? Wh...why does it pain so much?" You cried, tears spilling from the side of your eyes.

Jongho cursed under his breath and picked you up, running faster towards the forest.

The pain sizzled through your body like an unbearable heat. It was almost as if your heart was getting ripped out of your chest, each nerve and muscle being ripped out and torn to shreds.

"Jongho, it hurts," you cried and pressed your hands over your chest to ease the pain.

"Yes, I know but just hang on, okay? The mate bond is severing due to Yunho hyung's condition right now and I need to get you to him as fast as possible so just hang on."

"Jongho, you took long enough," Mingi muttered and looked at the very pained human in his arms before groaning.

"Where did you go?"

Jongho nodded, out of breath and placed you next to Yunho's massive dragon form where the grass had now taken on a bright firework red. You were barely conscious but enough to raise yourself to your hands and knees, forcing some air to go into your lungs. You turned to view the dragon behind you, the pain shallowing out in waves like the tides of the ocean you despised.

"Is this..." you trailed off and Jongho gave you small nod. A cry of sorrow broke out from your lips as you felt the last few remaining threads of the mate bond severe.

You hadn't even gotten to know the boy, claimed to be your mate. With hair like snow and eyes like the moon that would keep all your secrets. You weren't sure why you were crying but in a world where you had been pawned off from at a young age, you were crying for the love you had never gotten to know, to experience, to have and hold until death do you apart.

You collapsed onto Yunho's form, his scales bristling slightly under you at the touch of their mate, the one who's touch they had been made for and craving ever since they had been brushed into existence.

"Jongho," you cried again and held Yunho's form as much as could.

"Please, I haven't even gotten a chance to know him yet. Just...please...please help him," you begged until your throat was raw and scratchy.

"Just wait (Y/n), help is on the way," Jongho whispered, but his words fell on deaf ears as fate broke the last bond that attached your soul to Yunho's and your eyes fell shut.

At least you would be with Yunho now.

"My sweet treasure," you heard a voice call out accompanied with soft touches that swept your hair out of your face. The warmth radiating into your skin made you nuzzle your cheek into the voice's hand.

"Fate must look kindly upon me for giving me such a beautiful soulmate," the voice whispered again and your eyes fluttered open. Squinting slightly to adjust to the yellow sunlight, you caught a glimpse of silky white strands and a puppy-like smile that was looking down at you.

It almost felt as if you were in a dream...his face and voice resembled Yunho's so much and you sniggered at fate's cruel tricks before turning on your side and closing your eyes again.

For a dead person, fate sure made your afterlife comfortable...

"(Y/n), my treasure," the Yunho look-alike whispered again and slowly coaxed you awake. Kissing lightly on your forehead, then your fingers one by one and then finally leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on your cheek.

This time, your eyes opened for the second time and you slowly sat up. Smiling, you touched Yunho's cheek but instead of him disappearing, you were met with warmth and a smile.

"Are we...not dead?" You asked ridiculously and Yunho laughed, certain mirth filling his eyes as he looked at you endearingly.

"We are...not," he said and you shot up from where you were sitting, launching yourself at Yunho.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, your soul feeling whole as if Yunho's arms was where you were always meant to be.

"Yunho, I-" you stuttered but no amount of words could ever convey the relief you felt.

"Shh, it's alright, my treasure. You're here with me now and that's all that matters." Yunho said and stroked your hair as soft tears of happiness covered your cheeks.

Picking you up off the bed, Yunho nuzzled his head into your neck, inhaling the soft smell of nutmeg with fresh dew drops.  He pulled you closer into his chest, rubbing his cheek against yours as he pulled out of the room and into the narrow corridor.

The boys cheered as you and Yunho made an entry into the small living room that you had first seen when Jongho had led you down the narrow hallway a few days ago.

"You're awake!" Jongho beamed and moved forward to give you a hug before Yunho let out a growl and pulled you into his chest.

"Not your mate, Jongho," he said and gave the younger a warning glare.

Jongho sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and cowered away causing you to laugh and smack Yunho on the arm lovingly.

"Yunho! That's mean," you said and pressed yourself further into his chest, the silver-haired boy protectively putting his arm around you.

"Nothing is mean if it involves my treasure," he said and kissed the top of your head, all his brother making gagging noises at the display of affection.

To Yunho, the everglades had never felt more alive. Spring had finally arrived and the lush green grass felt like cotton under his feet.

The Cherry blossom trees had reached full bloom and Yunho smiled as he watched you twirl and dance around the falling petals. His heart had never felt so full but it always seemed to make more space for you.

"Yuyu! Come and see this!" He heard your voice and walked to you before playfully lifting you off your feet and spinning you around, causing you to let out happy squeals.

The white teardrop-shaped stone glinted in the sunlight as the gold flecks seemed to move across the stone. Yunho smiled as he watched the necklace sway from side to side as you ran through the grass and yelled for him to chase you.

Leaning down, he pressed his forehead to yours and whispered a soft 'i love you' before capturing your lips with his. It was a short loving kiss but each little nuzzle, peck or Eskimo kiss always left you wanting for more.

You wrapped your arms around Yunho's midsection and cuddled into his chest, the dragon in him rolling over with happiness like a puppy as he covered his body with yours and held you suffocatingly close. Resting his head on top of yours, his dragon swelled with pride at the newly created and stronger mate bond. You had finally let Yunho's dragon mark you after a few months of lovely coaxing and Yunho couldn't be prouder that a person like you was willing to bear his mark.

It made you his treasure, his to protect and his to guard.

A treasure more valuable than all the diamonds and gold he kept collected.

"I love you, my sweet treasure. More than all the gold and diamonds I could ever collect.”

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

laughter/joy

Written for Day 1 of @aangweek! Read here on AO3.

~*~

1. laughter/joy - after the fire, new maps are drawn / nothing to cry for, new dreams are born / out of the ruins, flowers will grow / people rebuilding, stone by stone

Aang had been… unusually silent during their first few hours at the temple. Well, maybe ‘unusual’ wasn’t the right word. A heavier gravity to him was to be expected, seeing as the official reconstruction of the Southern Air Temple was set to begin in upcoming weeks. Which meant their group of friends was currently working together to create basic blueprints of different areas. Katara would never have demanded Aang be his normal, talkative self as he combed through the ruins of his home, because spirits was that an unfair standard to hold him to.

Still. That didn’t mean she couldn’t worry.

But how could they cheer him up? Katara didn’t want to make light of the turmoil she was certain he was going through, and yet she also just - she wanted to comfort Aang. See him smile or hear him laugh at least once while they were here. Katara couldn’t bear to watch the invisible load weigh heavier and heavier on his shoulders any longer.

At the moment, they were all mapping out the weakest parts of the temple, since reconstruction would have to begin with those more fragile areas. Toph and Zuko were one group, so Toph could sense the areas of unsteady infrastructure with her earthbending and Zuko could draw it out. Aang had gone with Suki, as he could reference his memory to compare what had changed from the past to the present while Suki marked down the most significant alterations.

Which had left Katara with her brother. For obvious reasons, Sokka would be the one examining the rubble while she would be the one mapping it out.

The work was long and tedious, though it was more painful than it was boring. While a formal ceremony had been provided for the Air Nomads a few weeks earlier at Aang’s request - a way to send their spirits off in the traditional Nomadic manner - every now and then a slab of concrete would be displaced and reveal a set of charred bones. Which only made Katara worry about Aang more. If it was nauseating for her to witness, she couldn’t imagine what the experience was like for him.

“We need to do something for Aang today,” Katara said when they’d all stopped for lunch. Aang had momentarily left to investigate a particular room in the temple, so she’d seized the initiative to launch a let’s-cheer-Aang-up plan. Their group sat in a circle on a small striped blanket, Appa stretched out comfortably behind them. “I - I don’t know what, but there has to be something we can do to help him feel more like himself.”

Suki nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. He seemed so…” She pursed her lips. “I don’t know how to describe it. He wants to restore the temples, and it’s clear he’s happy to finally start, but…” She shook her head. “It’s just hard for him, I think.”

“He barely said a word the whole time we were eating,” Toph pointed out. “I mean, he didn’t even jump in when we started making fun of Zuko.”

Zuko rolled his eyes as everyone snickered. “Normally I’d be offended, but I noticed how quiet he was, too. That’s… unlike him.”

“Okay, so we’ve agreed we need to do something,” Sokka said, crossing his arms over his chest, “which means now we have to figure out what that ‘something’ is in the two minutes we have before Aang gets back.”

Katara grimaced. Her brother made a good point, disheartening as it was to admit. They needed to work fast. “Everyone. Start throwing out ideas!” Even a terrible suggestion was better than none at all.

“Er, we could make fruit pies for him?” Zuko offered, brow furrowing in contemplation.

Katara shook her head. “Not a bad idea, but it would take way too much time. Anything else?”

“Someone could play airball with him,” Suki suggested. “Didn’t you and Sokka do that the first time you visited the temple?”

Katara made a so-so gesture with her right hand. “Sokka did, yes, but I don’t know if it’s worth the risk of him mentally reliving everything about our first visit here.” She hesitated, returning her hand to her lap. “He… found Gyatso’s skeleton that day, too.”

Suki’s eyes widened. “Oh. Understood.”

“Guys!” Toph hissed, her palms flat on the ground. “He’s coming back!”

Katara cursed under her breath. They’d just have to suck it up and put something together for Aang later -

“Wait!” Sokka exclaimed. “I’ve got an idea!”

“Save it for later, Snoozles!” Toph whispered, but Sokka shook his head.

“Trust me! Just follow my lead.”

Katara resisted the urge to drag her palm down the side of her face. Great. Sokka’s ideas more often than not ended in utter disaster. Tui and La, she was begging for this to be the exception.

As Aang returned to their impromptu picnic area, Sokka jumped to his feet to greet him.

“Aang,” he said sternly, placing a hand on his hip, “I am very disappointed in you.” He gestured to the rest of them still sitting on the ground. “In fact, we are all disappointed in you.”

Aang blinked, taken aback. “You - what? Why?”

“Because.” Sokka shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “How could you not tell us that it was Appa’s birthday?!”

Aang stared at Sokka in total confusion, and Katara didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Of course her brother would come up with something that toed the line of believable and improbable.

“It’s… what?” Aang finally said.

“Appa’s birthday!” Sokka repeated. “C’mon, Aang. Did you really think we wouldn’t find out?”

Katara decided to throw her brother a line. Admittedly, he wasn’t floundering just yet, but she didn’t want to leave him treading water alone. No one could ever say she wasn’t a merciful person. “We had to find out from Appa himself!” she said, standing to move next to the sky bison. She scratched Appa’s cheek. “Isn’t that right, Appa?”

Please play along. Please play along.

Appa gave her a dubious side-eye before roaring, and Aang’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t know you knew your own birthday, buddy!” he exclaimed, airbending over their picnic area to land beside Appa. The breeze blew Katara’s hair back. “I’m sorry!” He gave the sky bison a tight hug. “How can I make it up to you?”

“He, uh, he actually already told us how he wants to celebrate,” Zuko stammered. “He thinks… He thinks we should…”

“Braid flowers in his fur!” Suki finished, and Zuko’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Like - Like when you guys first met those nomads in the… Earth Kingdom, right?”

“Yes, exactly,” Katara confirmed with an aggressive nod. Tui and La, she prayed they weren’t coming off as too emphatic. “And he told us we can - we can make flower crowns for each other, too!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Katara could see Toph pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. She couldn’t blame her friend for such a response.

For a moment, Aang didn’t speak, and Katara was terrified their ridiculous ploy would crumble to pieces.

Then he shrugged. “I like flower crowns.”

Katara was barely able to contain her sigh of relief, and she knew her shoulders had visibly dropped at his words. Ah, well. If Aang was suspicious of their rambling, at least he’d decided not to press the issue.

They spent the next half hour collecting flowers from around the Southern Air Temple. There were more than Katara had expected, especially considering the high altitude. She nearly cried tears of joy to see Aang passing through his home with a gentle warmth to his eyes rather than the previous quiet sadness. When they all began braiding Appa’s fur and weaving a rainbow of flowers into them, Aang smiled, too, complimenting his bison about how stylish he’d look when they were done.

There was nothing more beautiful than Aang’s smile.

It didn’t take long for their group to begin reminiscing about different memories with Appa. In honor of his “birthday,” after all.

Toph talked about how the very first time she’d flown on Appa, she’d been certain death was a more pleasurable experience. Suki recounted the story of when she’d found Appa and nursed him back to health, which prompted Zuko to tell the tale of his own Appa rescue mission.

Aang pulled them both into a tight hug before braiding strings of flowers in their hair, too.

Sokka was the one who brought up the cave of two lovers and his experiences of being trapped with the nomads, and Katara couldn’t resist the urge to tease Aang about his ever-so-romantic I’d rather kiss you than die! compliment. That particular story earned laughter from all, Aang included, who made a teasing remark about how clearly it worked before pressing a kiss to the tip of Katara’s nose. She dropped a pink flower crown on his head as he pulled away.

Joy was in the little things, Katara knew. And sometimes, joy was in the things that hurt, that ached, like the ruins of a once-beautiful air temple.

No. It was still beautiful. Because they were here, breathing life into death. Because out of these ruins, flowers were growing. Because out of loss, joy could bloom, too.

Aang laughed at some offhand comment from Sokka, and Katara smiled.

It was their favorite sound.

~*~

honestly this is my least favorite ficlet of what i've written for each day lmfao. but that does mean we can only go up from here! see you tomorrow for day 2 - family/gyatso :)

[mimiwrites2000]

Legends

Chapter Thirteen ~

AO3 ~~

Pairings: Armin x Annie/ Eren x Mikasa/ Jean x Hitch (other pairings will be added as the story goes on)

Words count: 6966

* spoilers for chapter 127 and up

Summary:

an injury

a miracle

an understanding

and maybe 'everything happens for a reason' holds some truth in it, and all of it leads to that tingle of emotions with unsolvable maze that hypnotize its victims

~a story of broken hearts who are searching for a cure while mending each other’s wounds

The air was salty.

Armin licked his lips, and he tasted salt, as if he kissed the ocean.

Seagulls hunted for generous travelers who tossed bread crumbs, seeking nourishment.

The sun was hot on his skin, coated with a slick layer of sweat. Blonde strands of his bangs sticking to his forehead, he kept brushing them away, but the soft, salty breeze ruffled them back on his face.

It was a hot summer day, hotter than usual. He should probably get inside his rented cabin, but the ocean had him under its spell. Armin held a book in his hands, neglected. His eyes never wavered off the infinite blue laid in front of him, blending with the sky in the middle. The white foam made by the ship matched the fluffy clouds scattered upon the sky.

The ocean enchanted Armin, it did since the very first time he saw it, and every time he sees it, he has all these unexplained sensations trembling in his veins, and he completely loses himself in the vast blue around him, the endless waves, and the sun's reflected rays on them, adorning the blue with glimmering glints of white.

He floated on a canvas with a bucket of blue paint spilled on, and he was that one, marginal dust on it. He couldn’t see the end of the canvas, and he lost the starting point long ago.

The ship broke through the waves, making its way to the safety of the island, and a tingle of excitement tackled Armin’s lips into a smile. He suppressed it, shaking it off.

The rage from two days ago felt so foreign to him at that moment. He almost forgot about the clutched paper in his hand; the reason he was on a ship, on his way to the continent.

Connie, whom Armin left in his house, had promised Armin he would take care of the house. Even though it wasn’t that big, and it’s not like Armin had a backyard filled with plants or a pet to take care of, still, Armin had a strong feeling that when he comes back, he’s gonna be greeted by a heap of charred wood replacing his house.

If anything calmed Armin a bit, it was his certainty that Connie wouldn’t step into his office. Since their training day, Connie had this cold war with books and theoretical subjects, and Armin was sure that his friend wasn’t nostalgic for those days-

“Ha!” Someone screamed from behind Armin, and he jumped in his place, a gasp left his lungs as he turned around to strike whoever the intruder was.

His eyes landed on someone that he was perplexed - to say the least- how coincidence brought them together, on this ship.

“What the hell? Hitch?!” Armin cried out, hating his shaky tone. His heart was beating so fast against his ribcage, it might as well jump out his throat.

Hitch laughed out loud, clapping her palms on her thighs, attracting other travelers’ attention. The flowery-patterned summer dress she was wearing ended right above her knees, her hair pulled away from her face in a bun so messy that seemed it might break at any second. Armin couldn’t help but admire how pretty she was.

He swiveled his gaze back to the ocean he was lost in a minute ago, disappointed at his interrupted moment, but after the shock wore off, he realized that he missed Hitch immensely.

“Oh God,” Hitch choked out between hiccups of ceasing laughter before she dropped beside Armin, “you should’ve seen your face!”

“Ha ha, so funny,” Armin tried to sound annoyed, but the smile on his face seeped into his fakely-bent-up tone.

“What a great coincidence! What’s up, Brainiac?” Then she leaned closer to him, and whispered “can’t risk calling your real name, after all, it’s been three years since you died.”

Armin rolled his eyes at the nickname, conceded to ignore it, but he answered her inquiry anyway: “I was going to ask you the same question, what business do you have here?”

“The ship? Nothing, I don’t work here,” Hitch retorted, spreading her arms on the bench’s back, crossing her legs, and Armin rolled his eyes again, “ok ok, I just have some business on the continent, what about you?”

Armin unconsciously tightened his grip on the paper in his hand, overlooking that this unremarkable gesture didn’t get past Hitch, who immediately snatched the paper from Armin’s hand.

“Hey!” he tried to get it back, but Hitch slapped her palm on his face, stopping him as his hands flailed helplessly, trying to retrieve the letter.

“Oh, well isn’t this interesting.”

“This is really none of your business-”

“Dear Armin…” Hitch started reading out the letter, and Armin groaned.

Dear Armin…

We’re so sorry if we were too much trouble today… we’re just worried for you and want you to be happy…

So we may or may not have asked Hanji for a small favor

Mikasa and Eren, and little Ymir

A small stick figure with two ponytails was drawn at the bottom of the paper, beside Ymir’s name.

“Little Ymir… isn’t that the queen’s kid?”

After a struggle, he released himself from Hitch’s grip. He rolled his neck and crossed his arms, nodding.

“So the queen still trusts her kid with these two morons?”

Armin didn’t answer; however, he did wonder how she knew about that… but considering what Mikasa told him a few days ago, about Hitch and Jean…

“What are they talking about?” she asked, checking the letter’s back.

“Oh…” Armin reached into his pocket, there was no point in hiding it from Hitch anyway…

Hitch read through the formal letter, her eyes scanning over it so quickly Armin thought her eyes would roll to the back of her head.

Her eyes lingered at the bottom of the letter, where the official cof the Survey Corps was.

“This is…”

“Ten official days off from Commander Hanji…”

Hitch gawed at Armin, before she lobbed the paper, giving Armin a second to catch it before it flew with the wind.

Hitch scoffed: “And I thought your dog died or something.”

“I don’t have a dog-”

“And what are you so upset about?”

Armin bit the inside of his lower lip. He trusted Hitch a long time ago, since the old days of spending sleepless nights at a certain cold basement, staring at a bulk of clear crystal, a girl floating in the middle of it…

Armin shook his head. He wanted to lie about the letter, come up with any excuse, but he couldn’t. Maybe the heat affected him, but... he suddenly had a foreign impulse to talk and talk, to let it all out…

“You know I didn’t ask for it…” Armin started, he was hesitant for a moment, but when he glanced at Hitch… she was listening, giving all her attention to him.

He took a deep breath and continued: “I never asked for a break, and they acted on their own, and I hate when they do that and it makes me feel pathetic and I’m so fucking done with them looking down at me like I’m still the weak nine years old kid- ouch!”

Hitch flicked her finger at Armin’s nose, he winced, wishing he could glare her to death.

“Yeah you are so pathetic,” she conceded, not stopping a second before saying it, “you never leave your house, you’re failing at relationships-“

“It was just one fucking relationship-“

“-and you developed a temper.”

“I didn’t.”

“You sure as hell did.”

“Ok so what?” Armin turned to her, frustration flailed his hands in front of his face.

Hitch raised an eyebrow at him, before she clicked her tongue: “You’re hopeless.”

Armin swallowed, he was thinking of any retort, any snarky comment that would throw her off, a remark that will make her as annoyed as he was.

It hit him, and he knew exactly what it was.

He leaned back on the seat, and with as much calmness he could muster, he said: “Well, it looks like you and Jean are much closer than I remember.”

From the side of his eyes, Armin saw the muscles in Hitch’s forearm clinch, the edge of her eyebrow uptick.

Armin fished for another comment: “I never thought he was your type-“

“Oh shut it, don’t mention that fucker’s name.”

If Hitch was trying to throw Armin off with her comment, then she vastly succeeded; it felt as if she kicked him off the deck and into the ocean. He flinched and shook his head, stared, trying to decide whether Hitch was joking or not, but she looked so serious, and Armin found himself speechless.

Guilt surfaced up his throat, because he knew exactly what it was like to be teased about this exact same topic.

“I-I’m sorry, I just thought you and him… you know, maybe you’re right, I’ve probably grown a bit impulsive through these…”

Armin forgot the rest of the sentence when he saw Hitch shaking… with laughter.

She bursted out in cackles and Armin touched his face, checking if he grew a third eye.

“You’re-” she snorted, “unbelievable!”

“I’m so done with you,” Armin got up, taking his suitcase with him. Hitch was dying of laughter as she clinged onto his wrist, splattering pleads for him to stay but half of her words were gibberish through laughter.

“No no no please please wait!”

“I’m so fucking done with you-”

“No no I promise I’ll explain!”

Armin plopped himself back on the bench, suitcase falling beside his jittering feet.

He tried to keep his eyes on a seagull as the hysterically-lost-it-all woman beside him gradually got herself together.

Hitch wiped a tear away as she said: “I knew I have it in me.”

“You’re not explaining yourself.”

“You’ve developed a temper alright,” Armin started to get up again, but she anchored him down with a hand to his shoulder, “no no please listen,” he sat down, but didn’t look at her.

“I’m going to the continent because I’m auditioning for a movie.”

“Uh… a what?” Armin heard that term somewhere before, he couldn’t put his finger on it…

She turned to him and elaborated: “It’s like… a play, but not really, it’s just… a bunch of pictures…” then she stopped, gesturing with her hands, as if the movement would compensate for her non-existent, poor explanation.

“Oh…” Armin remembered what she was talking about, it was these movies that are shown in places called cinemas… motion pictures.

Actors, directors, screenwriters… he read about these in one of his books.

“And… you want to become... an actress?” Armin asked, his eyebrows scrunched together. He would certainly be the happiest for Hitch if she became a big star, but he couldn’t imagine a soldier choosing that path after years of serving in the military….

“Well, after the war, the whole Military Police branch was wiped out. I thought, why not?” She retorted, shrugging her shoulders, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh right…” of course the Military Police was terminated in the aftermath of the war. There was simply no point in dividing themselves into three military branches. The same goes for the Garrison. All the soldiers were given the option of transferring to the Survey Corps or retiring…

Armin might be the only one from the original corps still serving in the military, beside Hanji of course… even captain Levi retired and opened a small coffee shop…

“You have that look on your face,” Hitch commented.

Armin raised an eyebrow.

“That look,” Hitch pointed at Armin’s face in circles,”it’s like that… that face you used to make when you stared at Annie.”

“Oh…” Armin went silent.

“It was that look… like, you were just absolutely out of it, like you’re dreaming or I don’t know, but very distracted,” Hitch looked at Armin, the seldom look in his eyes stopped her.

He looked away, pressed his lips, his eyelids fluttering,

“I…” Hitch softly shook her head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s ok.”

“I know she meant a lot to you.”

“Yeah…”

A beat of silence, seagulls’ cooing puncturing it. 

“Do you…” Hitch muttered, “still think of her?”

Armin’s jaw clenched.

A beat of silence.

Hitch clicked her tongue: “and by the way, I wasn’t lying about Jean.”

Armin’s jaw relaxed a bit, glad she changed the subject.

“I can’t stand him, and he can’t stand me, and I don’t even know if what we had is even considered a relationship,” She said casually. Armin didn’t know how to reply; should her offer comfort? because apparently Hitch wasn’t that close to Jean after all, and the break up -if it’s even should be called that- didn’t seem to affect her in the slightest…

Armin gazed back at the ocean. A thin line of land was steadily boldening as the ship cruised towards it. At that moment, Armin wanted to freeze the boat for eternity, to stay in the midst of this vast, bottomless blue.

“I…” Hitch said, and Armin turned his head towards her. He was taken aback by the soft look on her face, she was being genuine, but she didn’t continue her sentence, she merely looked in Armin’s eyes, and he understood everything she didn’t say.

I’m sorry about her.

“It’s fine, it really is fine,” Armin said, a smile on his lips, it didn’t reach his ears.

Hitch’s lips pressed into a thin smile, before her face brightened up, a light bulb flashed above her head, and she suggested: “You know there’s this place that I heard off, it’s some sort of a village, or maybe a small town, anyway, it has some really interesting places, besides, it will be holding a massive celebration for the third anniversary of the end of the war.”

“….and?”

“And? Seriously?” Hitch rolled her eyes, but Armin didn’t fidget. She smacked her lips before continuing: “I can meet you there, in two days, I had other plans, but I can delay those, I can get you a room at the same hotel I’m staying in, we can have fun, yeah?”

After that, Armin found himself standing at the harbor, a small piece of bagel-brown paper in his hand, an address scrabbled on it, as Hitch waved off to him.

At least, he had plans.

~~~

Armin had two days for himself to discover the city he was staying at.

He mooched around the town, his suitcase dragging beside him. Just like the first time he visited Marley with the survey corps a few years ago; the same overwhelming jitters of astonishment rushed through his body. Enthusiasm of unveiling-the-unknown awakened in his heart, pumping quivers in his veins.

The mid-day sun overhead, shedding light on gray-tiled streets meandering between similarly-gray markets, contouring the sides. Puffs of smoke emitting from chimneys, blending together in a whirl of a gray before mounting up, the sunlight filtering through it, softening, adding a touch of haziness to the atmosphere.

In contrast to the gray-dull blocks, people clad in rainbow-palette charades, a flurry of liveliness, carrying singing instruments alongside it, its harmony a blend of melodious laughter, rhythmic chatters, nostalgic uproarious kids’ squeals, and the shopkeepers howling offers.

People spoke different languages. He recognized his own language spoken here and there, but in completely different accents that he didn’t understand parts of it.

One cohesive symphony delicately orchestrated. 

Melodies from afar punctuated the coordinated harmony, adjoining another layer of ecstasy. Armin thought that it was his ear putting together all these overwhelmingly-pleasing sounds and making up this melody, but as he snagged his way through the sea of colors, the music source got louder, the notes in sync with Armin’s heartbeat, pulsating in his ears.

His feet led him to the sound, and it was close, so close. Armin broke out of a curtain of people, and-

A guy sat on a carpet woven from the rainbow beams, his fingers strumming strings effortlessly, on an instrument that resembled a guitar, but its neck thin, its body a hollow swelling of light brown wood. He played it like it was second nature to breathing, the notes compatible with the thudding of boots and chatter, merging in congruence. He faded with his surroundings, his gray unfamiliar-clothing matching the jagged bricks of the building behind him, only a few eyes glanced at him or at the colorful carpet beneath him. 

When he saw that Armin was staring, he winked at him.

Unexpecting it, Armin backed away, accidentally stepping on someone’s foot.

Armin tumbled but didn’t fall, he stuttered out: “I’m so sorry!” 

A man, the man Armin stepped on his foot, was babbling in a language Armin never heard before.

Armin flailed his arms around, trying to apologize somehow, but he stopped; the man smiled, bowed his head, and put his palm on his heart.

Dumbfoundedly, Armin found himself tentatively mimicking the man’s gesture.

After that, the man beckoned Armin to follow him, and started down the street. After a hesitant moment, Armin nodded and walked side by side with the man.

Their walk was interrupted constantly by the man stopping every few steps to greet someone. Armin wondered if everyone knew each other in this town… then it dawned on him that you don’t have to know someone to wish them a good day.

The town itself was a decaying skeleton of bricks and stone, but the souls occupying it blew life into every crevice of it, blooming as those souls grew older, their bond solidifying like bricks within walls.

They jostled their way through the current of colors. With every step they took, a sweet aroma wafted through the air. Armin sniffed, spotting a coffee shop down the street. The man invited him in, offering a hot drink and a weird dessert that Armin had no idea what it was made of, except for the flower petals adorning it.

The man refused any payment, doing the same hand-on-the-heart gesture from earlier.

A few minutes later, Armin resumed roaming with a warm cup in his hand. The burnt-brown mixture was not different from any other coffee, but the smell and the taste had a unique twist to them, accompanied with the flowers-infused dessert; an addicting taste that he could get used to. Armin couldn’t pinpoint the different ingredients, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

Beside the coffee shop stood a thin tall construction with a pointy head, like a pencil. Armin saw exact replicas of it scattered around the town as well; different colors and sizes, but same embellishments. He didn’t know its function; it reminded him of a lighthouse, but it certainly wasn’t; no lighthouse is in the middle of land.

A marginal part of Armin found it hard to admit it, but he felt… happy, or more like relieved. He surprised himself by the sudden feeling of wanting to go out, to see people and walk through crowds, not interacting with them, but merely watching from afar. 

He was caging himself in a shell, forbidding himself from this very primitive liberty for so long. 

A new yet rudimentary form of freedom.

He regretted treating Mikasa and Eren badly a few days ago. When he first read the letter, he boiled with anger. Ignoring Connie’s shouts, he sprinted out his house, taking the shortest route to Mikasa and Eren’s place, and when he reached it, he barely held himself back from denting the door with knocking.

Eren cracked the door open, and when he saw Armin, he slammed it shut in his face.

That was when Connie stepped in, and after tedious tirades and three cups of coffee, he convinced Armin to take this vacation and ‘enjoy his time’.

Armin bought a postcard and an envelope, intending to write to Eren and Mikasa and apologize to them.

He spent the rest of the day walking through town, taking in as much detail as possible, collecting memories to tell, and when his legs were numb enough to stumble upon, Armin decided to get something to eat.

He sat on a bench at a square, a spacious square with a fountain centering it, kids splashing water, as their parents shopped at the markets surrounding the place. A mouth-watering aroma allured Armin to a traditional restaurant where he got a sandwich with a drink, both have foreign names that were too hard for him to pronounce.

As his muscles relaxed, he realized how tired he was. He didn’t rest after the long boat trip, captivated by the charming spirit of that town, besides, he had been walking for hours with a suitcase as an extra weight. He needed a place to stay for the night.

A small girl with unruly red locks flailing around her face jumped around, her green, flowery dress swirling with every step she took. A stack of newspaper weighing in her hands, obviously a burden.

Armin waved his hand, catching her attention. With a smile on her face, she approached him, handing out a newspaper.

“Thank you,” Armin said, but the girl skewed her head at him in confusion, she probably spoke a different language.

“O-oh, um… thaaaa….nnnkkk….yooouuu…” he repeated it again but slowly, only to realize it wouldn’t make her understand. But then, she pointed at her ears, and it dawned on Armin; she was deaf. He remembered the hand-on-heart gesture from the coffee man before, so Armin bowed his head, and put his hand on his heart. The girl smiled, and did the same. He paid for the newspaper, and the girl trudged back to the middle of the square, holding the newspaper stack tight to her chest, keeping it dry with the kids splashing water around.

Armin opened the newspaper. He sighed when he saw most of it was written in the language he spoke.

The first title made him choke on his sandwich.

As the third anniversary of the war is nearing, the world is wondering, is it really over?

Armin scanned through the rest of the page, his mouth inching wider with every word, a crumb of chewed bread fell out his mouth. 

Is it really over? Are all titan shifters actually dead?

Or is it just another trick from the devils of paradise?

The world demands proof that the Eldians are unable to turn into titans anymore, and it won’t rest until the truth is out.

Armin couldn’t believe his eyes, and suddenly, the sandwich in his hand was no longer appealing.

~~~~

The hunting for an affordable inn started. Armin roamed the streets again, instead of keeping his chin up and reading signboards, his gaze was fixated on others; he felt every pair of eyes on him, only watching him, somehow knowing that he was the colossal titan, with one, unremarkable scratch, he could blow this whole city, charring it into dust, as if it never existed before.

Fear shoved the ruthless joyfulness into a far, abandoned corner, cackling. Sweat broke on Armin’s forehead, his heart beating fast in his chest.

For the first time in three years, Armin felt unsafe.

All he knew for the past three years was living for his own self, safely. He was still stuck with the military, and he had troubles sleeping the first few weeks he moved alone into his house, but it was as if he was reborn, turned a new page, and started a brand new life. Even if the whole world declared his death, for him, it was a new beginning.

Armin needed a quiet place, as fast as possible.

He entered the very first inn he laid eyes on.

The inn was in the middle of the town, with an affordable price and clean rooms. Not big but not small. It wasn’t crowded nor was it empty. He booked a room closest to the emergency exit, hastily snatched the key from the concierge's hand, throwing a trembling thank-you over his shoulder as he scuttled as fast as he could up the stairs, reaching his room, checking the number engraved on the key twice, before going in and locking the door.

He flopped his suitcase on the bed, closed the curtains, then double checked that the door was locked.

Stepping into the bathtub, he stayed under the warm spray of the shower longer than needed, all the while checking behind the curtains.

He snuck under the blankets, unexpectedly cold after the warm shower, slept with one eye open, as light gradually faded behind the curtains, denoting the end of his first day of this unforeseen vacation. 

The last thing he thought of before drifting into an uneasy sleep- was buying a ticket back to the island, first thing in the morning.

~~~

Light crept into the room as the sun rose up in the sky. Armin didn’t see it, he was under his blankets, speculating the closed curtains, his heart thudding loudly in his ear.

His ears perked up for any sound.

His throat was dry as a desert.

His water bottle was across the room.

Armin observed it, unmoving. He closed his eyes for a long second, hoping that when he opens them, the water bottle would be right in front of his face.

But it didn’t move an inch.

He should get going, get up, gather his stuff, and leave.

This is ridiculous, Connie himself would be ashamed.

He got up, a shiver went up his spine the moment his toes touched the carpeted floor. Even though he was aware he was being an idiot, he couldn’t shake off this paranoia. Tiptoeing to the water bottle, he reached to it, his mouth getting dryer, his fingers were an inch away from it-

KNOCK KNOCK!!!

Armin hit the water bottle, knocking it off, water spilling on the floor, splashing the curtain.

Freeze.

He didn’t dare move a limb.

His brain went through every possibility of who could be at the door. Angry people with torches and swords? Maybe men in black with guns in their hands? Or it was the government on a mission to arrest him? Or- 

KNOCK KNOCK!!!

Armin flinched. He took a deep breath, and approached the door with inaudible steps, as light as he could. It felt like ages before he reached the door. He spied through the peephole, it was blurred with dust, but it was enough to see a figure of someone standing there.

A woman.

A blonde woman.

No way no way no way-

Short

Petite

Armin leaned against the door, squinting, trying to decipher her features, his heart involuntary beating faster in his chest-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!!!!

Armin fell back, tumbling on his ass, a grunt escaped his mouth. He slammed his palm on his mouth, the pain from the fall momentarily vanishing, but it was too late.

“Alright if someone is in there, for God’s sake just answer the fucking door, I got other businesses to do!” a gruff voice called from the other side of the door, impatient, their tapping foot could be heard from down the hall.

That’s not… her...

“Y-yes?” Armin squeaked out.

“Towels? This is room’s services, do you need extra towels?”

What? Room service? I didn’t ask for-

“Just answer the goddamn question-”

“N-no!” Armin half shouted, trembling, “th-thanks I don’t need t-towels please.”

“You got a letter,” the gruff woman added.

A letter? Wha-

“Hello?! Can you stay with me for one fucking minute-”

“I’m sorry!” He blurted out, “f-from whom?”

“Do I look like I would know?” A very loud sigh, “are you even gonna open the goddamn door? Actually nevermind-” 

Armin heard rustling, before the tip of white paper sneaked under the door.

“Next time answer the door faster, just wasting my Goddamn time, as if I had any more time to waste…” the complaints faded down the hallway.

Armin layed on the floor for extra few minutes, energy drained out of him.

Another letter.

Armin feared what could be in it.

He slit open the top of the envelope with trembling fingers, shook it, a small piece of wrinkled brown paper fell out.

He held it so close to his eyes, rereading the few lines over and over again.

Ayyooo Armin!

I hope you enjoyed your free time!

Just a reminder about our meeting tomorrow, oh and I already got you a train ticket and a room in that hotel

See ya there!

Hitccchhh~

He didn’t leave his room for the rest of the day. Plans of leaving to the island seemed way far off reach.

~~~

At night, Armin took the train to the town Hitch told him about. Keeping his eyes down, his movement unnoticeable, dissolving within the train’s car.

It was barely dawn when he arrived, the sky a dark blue, the moon absent.

It was one of those nights where you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face; the surroundings plunged into darkness. The only available light coming from fluorescent street bulbs with vague halos, fireflies zipping around them. He barely got himself to the hotel Hitch told him about, the process of checking in all but blurry. Paranoia substituted by exhaustion. He flopped on the bed, only able to kick off his shoes before he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

He woke up at noon.

Sweaty, hot, tangled in the sheets, the sun glaring through the window.

Sleeping at dawn and waking up at noon was one of the things Armin avoided for the past three years; he was an early bird who liked mornings. When he woke up with the sun scorching in the middle of the sky, it was as if he fell off a cliff and all his bones were broken, muscles from head to toe aching.

Of course, the morning buffet the hotel provided had long ended, (now that he was aware of it, the hotel Hitch recommended was rather nice… pricey as well, he noted to talk about this with her, he couldn’t let her pay for it). Armin could no longer ignore his stomach walls clamping on each other, so, with caution, all his senses fully activated, he left his room, making sure to hide all his personal stuff underneath the mattress and behind the closet.

Only then did he have a chance to look around the town.

Frighteningly astonishing, it looked as a bucket of rainbow splashed on it. The silent buildings decided to grow non identically; each one sprouted from its roots in fortuitous angles, frozen mid dance on inaudible tunes.

A canvas of a bored artist and a brush, spontaneously drawing strokes wherever and however. And what was a mere boredom act had become a masterpiece others marvel at.

It was quiet for such a colorful city, even though people zipped up and down the streets, but for Armin’s eyes that were still adjusting to the light, it was all but a blurry gray-scaled lines.

After his vision cleared… he found out it wasn’t much different than when they were blurry.

People clothed in three colors… black, white, and gray. Striped, dotted, and squared. Their faces wore similar schemes; stoic, prosaic, blank. All busy and in a hurry, scurrying down the streets, everyone going on with their day, not glancing at one another.

Armin, with his blue shirt and brown pants, felt so out of the place.

Any sort of the modern technology Armin saw when he first visited the continent- were nowhere to be seen; there was not a single car on the streets, only black bicycles that passed by him like wind. The zig-zagging chimneys sprouting from houses didn’t blow gray toxics into the air, and the air tasted different; clean and refreshing. 

However, the fresh air didn’t seem to affect the people at all, either they were too used to it, or simply didn’t care.

Armin swallowed, thinking why on earth did Hitch recommend this city. Yes the place was nice, cheerful and pulsating with life, but its people were as emotionless as an unremarkable stone on the sideroad.

It wasn’t about the fanciness of a place, its color or its shapes, it never was and never will be.

it was all about the people.

They either spread life in town, or rob it from it.

Armin tried to not make eye contact with anyone, and not because of his dilemma of being exposed, but because everyone seemed intolerable to a delaying-glance.

He permitted himself to stroll the streets and discard his situation on the shelf for a while.

After all, it was ridiculous. 

Utterly ridiculous.

He took a turn right, a turn left, walked for some time, went through alleys and squares… it was too late until he realized he could no longer go back to the hotel.

He was lost and had no idea where he was, internally freaking out.

Do not panic don't panic do not panic

If his frantic thoughts showed on his face, he’d probably be an easy prey and get blindly robbed. He must stay sharp and focused.

Time passed, and Armin decided that he wouldnt find his way back if he didn’t move, and soon enough, he found himself walking through a traditional market rounding a vast square, traders wearing hints of color, intruding the greyness of the town-people, Armin realized that this market was attended by foreigners.

In the middle of the square, a small stage was being set up, almost finished. From people’s questioning stares and glances, Armin concluded that it was as foregin to them as it was to him.

But after fleeting looks, people would resume their life, running errands, their kids killing time waiting for their parents; playing and hopping around.

Armin forgot his hunger and that he was lost for a second, watching the kids.

Much like his younger days, with Mikasa and Eren in Shiganshina...

The atmosphere ignited nostalgia’s candle under Armin’s nose. He sighed, wishing that he invited his friends with him, maybe having company wouldn’t have gotten him in the mess he meddled in, why didn’t I even think about that?

Armin’s stomach grumbled in response, reminding him that he didn’t eat anything since… the day before...

The side market-stands with fresh fruits watered his mouth. He swallowed, approaching a stand where shiny apples were snatching glances from everyone at the market.

Armin picked two apples, one red and one green -he didn’t have a personal preference- and any food on an empty stomach is worth a fancy meal at the monarchy’s feasts.

Horns echoed.

Every head in the square swiveled to the center, where the stage was completely set up, a middle aged man standing on it, his chin up, beside him a younger man, a younger replica of him. Four musicians, carrying small horns that were a shame for real horns, standing behind him.

Classy 

“Attention, people of this town,” the old man with a round belly announced, hushed murmurs transpired, and Armin heard admirable words like it’s the Mayor! Or how humble he is!, which made Armin raise a confused eyebrow.

Everyone went quiet, and as if on cue, the Mayor continued: “As words had been going around, we’re holding one of the biggest festivals here, in memory of ending the big war. Three years ago, when the world saw peace again!”

Claps erupted, Armin grimaced at the Mayor’s meek wording.

The mayor’s chest inflated with pride (or ego?), the buttons on his gray-striped shirt threatening to pop off. He raised his hand, and the crowd, once again, fell into homage silence.

“And as I promise you, my dear people,” few people sighed, “I’ll make it worthy for your praise and admiration. People from all over the world are going to visit us, and from my place here, I ask you for generosity and hospitality, and to take advantage of this trade investment! It’s a great opportunity for your markets to flourish!”

The crowd clapped again. The Mayor half bowed, before he descended the stage, his younger look-alike following him.

Comments, squeals, and whispers spread rapidly, and the square was as alive as it was before the pause.

“Young man?” 

Armin turned to the seller, he almost forgot where he left. He reached into his pockets, but stopped when the seller whispered to him, his accent heavy but understandable: “Did you see what he did? He’s using the people, his people for money!”

Armin’s mouth opened and closed several times, taken aback, before he asked: “What do you mean? Isn’t this for their own good?”

“What? No young man, no. I take it you’re not from here?”

Armin shook his head.

“Well let me tell you something,” the seller leaned closer to Armin, his voice dropping to lower than a whisper, “that man owns this market, he takes 50% percent of the profit, from every single one of us!”

“...what?”

“Exactly!” the seller looked right and left, making sure no one was eavesdropping on them, “half of my hard work goes right into his pockets!”

Armin scrunched his nose; he had a bad feeling about the Mayor the moment he saw him. Armin didn’t know why the seller was telling him this… maybe he just wanted to let it out…

“His son looks no better than him… I’m sorry young man, I shalln’t hold you up any longer.”

Armin nodded with an apologetic smile, handing several coins for the seller, he turned around and-

He pumped into someone, and a paper bag full of groceries was dropped out on the ground, the two apples slipping from his hands and falling into the mix.

“I’m so sorry! I-I apologize!,” Armin knelt and started picking the goods and putting them back into the bag.

Armin wasn’t bothered that he picked up all the groceries by himself, their owners not doing anything; it was his fault after all.

When he was done, he stood up, glancing at the two apples which were no longer edible; one split in half and facing downwards, the other had a huge soft brown circle on it, contradicting how appetizing they looked just ten seconds ago.

“There you-” Armin’s voice stopped in his throat.

His eyes met a pair of familiar icy blue eyes, wide open, boring into his own.

“Annie…” Armin whispered, his eyes widening.

It was her, blonde hair in a bun, blue eyes- it was her.

No doubt.

Annie...

There is no way this is actually happening; she can’t just vanish for years then pop out of nowhere like this.

That wasn’t fair, it was ridiculous, the world had a plan, and Armin was a toy controlled by someone else, snickering at him as Armin couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t believe his eyes.

He spent three years trying to forget her, they can’t go through this again-

She yanked the paper bag from Armin’s hands, pulled a gray cape over her head and walked away.

Armin froze for a moment, but when he saw her figure fading into the crowd, he darted behind her.

“Annie! Annie, wait! Please wait!” Armin called, as he pushed through people, whose sudden purpose was hindering Armin from getting to Annie. He accidently pushed a guy who happened to be holding a basket filled with eggs to the rim. The guy staggered, squelching half of them on the ground.

“Hey! Watch out!” The man complained, but Armin didn’t acknowledge him in the slightest.

She didn’t slow down, she maintained her fast pace, ignoring Armin’s calls, pulling the cape further down her face when people started giving them suspicious glances.

“Annie! Please!”

More eyes looked at them.

Armin barely kept up with Annie, trying so hard to not lose sight of her. Until they reached an intersection, people double the number, bicycles zipping past Armin-

She turned right.

Armin sprinted, crashing into bodies, people throwing profanities at him. He turned right and-

She was gone.

She vanished.

Armin halted in his tracks, his breathing erratic, staring at the last spot he saw Annie at.

Was that… was that a facade? 

A hand clapped on Armin’s shoulder, he jumped, only to see that the hand belonged to a man.

An angry man, with a basket of half cracked eggs.

The man was shouting, complaining, cursing. But Armin didn’t hear him; his ears ringing, his mouth dry, and his sight swaying.

A few blocks away, a blonde carrying groceries bag was hastily leaving the scene, covering her head, not turning around to check if he was behind her.

Ignoring the awkward glances from passbyres, she kept going until she was out of the center of the town, where houses scattered over vast land, and it was more peaceful than the market, less crowded, less people.

She walked to a small, humble house, took out keys and unlocked the door. Discarding the bag in the kitchen. She beelined to her room, closed the door behind her.

She looked around the room, searching for anything to break, to smash, anything to let out her anger on, anything.

When she decided she mustn’t leave a trace of her rage, she sat on the ground, leaning against the door, and bit down hard on hand. Closing her jaw as hard as she can on flesh, until she tasted her own blood.

Sharp pain shot from her hand, she let it go with a hiss, watching blood dripping on the ground.

She watched her wound.

A labored, shaky sigh left her mouth, she rested her head against the wooden door as she eyeballed steam emitting from her wound, flesh forming and healing, accompanied with a murmur of a hiss.

“Are you done? Did you let it all out? Or you wanna bite your other hand?”

She looked up, a girl sitting on her bed, legs crossed, a smirk blasted on her face.

“What… what have you done, Hitch?”

.

.

AAAAAAAAAHHH Oh my GOD I didn’t update Legends in so long I’m so excited to finally post this dkgdlsajgkds Thanks for everyone who tolerated this story not being updated for some time, thanks for sticking around, I really appreciate it I know I haven’t been updating as much as I used to, I’m gonna graduate soon, so I’m a bit busy with university right now The thing is, I’m too attached to this story, and only recently I realized this. I started writing this story in April 2020, it was the beginning of lockdown and all the crazy shit we’re going through right now. It was my own escape, and I enjoyed writing every single word of it I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ll never abandon this story, because it became a part of me that I can’t live without So thank you guys for coming along this journey, I appreciate it. ALSO SORRY FOR ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER I’M SO SORRY OH MY GOD Ok that’s all, feedback is always appreciated, here on tumblr or ao3 (or twitter uwu) OK THANKS AGAIN YOU GUYS I LOVE YOU MWAAAHH

[jaxsteamblog]

Bending Practice

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

Katara sat in her office after breakfast, sorting through all of the correspondence that had flooded in for Thuy. It always surprised her how much obvious bribery went on and, as she sliced open a letter, she watched dispassionately as an ornate broach fell from the packet. Both broach and letter went into the donation pile, and Katara frowned at the growing number of thank you cards she was going to have to write with thinly veiled reproach. 

Before she could even make a dent, Zuko knocked lightly at the door. The others had gone out to watch Thuy at her earthbending practice.

“Come in.” Katara called from behind her desk, reaching for another letter.

“How’s it going?” Zuko asked.

“About the usual.” She replied.

Zuko put his hands on the desk, leaning over it so he could kiss her. She relished the soft pressure of his lips against hers and the brief scent of shampoo when his hair slid forward. 

“Want to go see Thuy?” He asked, still leaning toward her. Katara, angled forward herself, smiled and watched his mouth.

“I really should get through all this.” She said.

“But then how can I show off in front of my fiancee?” Zuko asked.

Katara kissed him again and then rose from her seat.

“Alright.” She said. “Let’s go.”

Large nets surrounded the training grounds, in anticipation of future inexperienced Avatars. Rohan and Ty Lee were outside of the nets, sitting on one of the few benches at the perimeter. Zuko, still feeling some sort of way about his sister’s friend, sat next to Rohan. Katara wandered closer to the next, watching Thuy and Toph spar.

“Welcome to the cage match!” Rohan said and Katara snorted.

“It does look a little bit like Toph’s arena.” She said, not turning around. 

“Could you imagine what other element arenas would look like?” Rohan asked. 

Katara tilted her head, thinking. 

“I mean, we all know what an Agni Kai is.” Zuko replied dryly.

“Okay, we’re not talking duels, but actual, like, bouts.” Rohan countered.

“I don’t think anyone dies at pro bending.” Ty Lee added. 

“I think it’d all be the same concept right? Like trying to knock the other person out of the ring. But maybe with more obstacles.” Katara said, finally turning.

“I like that idea actually.” Ty Lee said.

“What if you had to face off against a bender of another element?” Rohan asked.

“Well, then it’s not really a show of skill at all. The forms are different.” Zuko countered.

“Sure, but it’s like that one trading card game. You know, it was super popular with kids a decade ago. Aw nuts, I’m blanking on the name.” Rohan snapped their fingers, looking at Ty Lee.

“I know what you’re talking about. The one with the energy rat.” Zuko said.

“That’s it!” Rohan clapped their hands and turned back to Zuko. “So Thuy is going to have a hard time with airbending because it’s the most unlike her birth style. Earth is mildly frustrating, but fire should be a piece of cake.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Zuko replied dryly.

“I’ve seen you move, you’re like a secret Waterbender.” Rohan stated.

“That’s not usual Rohan.” Ty Lee said. 

Rohan looked at her, confused. “No?”

Ty Lee shook her head and they turned back to Zuko.

“I knew we rubbed off on you, but I didn’t think it was that much.” They said.

“My uncle taught me other forms. He said it would make me more balanced.” Zuko said. 

“And? Are you balanced?” Katara asked.

“Want to see?” Zuko asked, sounding coy. The energy shifted and Katara felt her face warm.

“Yeah, let’s go, you and me.” She said, putting more confidence in her voice to cover how he had turned her spine into jelly. 

Zuko stood and started to unbutton his shirt as he walked to the fencing.

“Hey Beifong!” He called. 

The clattering earth stopped and Zuko waited, still carefully removing his shirt.

“Her feet are fine Lord Bunsen Burner!” Toph yelled back.

“I was more wondering if you’d let us use the field.” Zuko said. He fully removed his shirt, folding it over his arm. His undershirt was tight and Katara, aware of the audience, forced herself not to stare. 

Thuy and Toph conferred for a moment.

“Why?” Toph asked.

“Sparring match.”

“With Wet Wipe?”

“With Katara.”

“WITH MASTER KATARA?” Thuy shouted.

“Ditches and pits girl, lower your voice!” Toph snapped.

“Sorry Sifu.” Thuy replied. 

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’d like a chance to witness what it is you keep going on about.” Toph said, starting toward the door of the fencing. “Find out if all of Ty Lee’s hard work is for a purpose.” 

Zuko tossed his shirt over an empty bench as he and Katara walked to meet them. Thuy was nearly bouncing in excitement when they met at the door. 

“Water?” Toph asked, sounding more like a prompt.

“I’m fine Sifu.” Thuy chirped.

“No, I meant go and get your Master some water to work with, you walnut.” Toph retorted.

“Oh!” Thuy looked alarmed and then darted off. 

“You don’t have to be so hard on her.” Katara said.

“Why not? Everyone else is falling over themselves to kiss her backside.” Toph replied, shoving Katara lightly to the side. 

Zuko and Katara went into the caged field. Pausing to kiss her cheek, Zuko was quiet as he jogged to the middle and started stretching. He was clearly taking this seriously.

Thuy returned to the door of the fencing carrying two large and battered buckets filled with water. Katara wondered where on earth she had even found those.

“Thank you Thuy.” Katara said.

“Of course Auntie!” Thuy replied cheerfully and darted away before Katara could reprimand her. 

“Ready?” Zuko asked as Katara walked over. 

“Let’s go.” She said, dropping the buckets.

The moment the metal bottoms hit the ground, Katara pulled the water up around her. The force of it actually kept the buckets momentarily suspended, but fell with a dull clatter. 

Thinking back to their late night talk, Katara couldn’t help the wry smile as she watched him take a more traditional Firebender stance. 

Firebending always seemed more like fencing to her, and Katara pulled her water around Zuko’s sides playfully, testing his open sides. He was fast, though, and get under her attacks before she could refocus. He was taking it far too seriously.

Very quickly, they fell into step. Remembering their dance at her coronation, Katara smiled freely as they stepped in close. Zuko would feint and flicker, but Katara was patient. In a one on one battle, fire was meant to injure, so Zuko had little in the way of movement to test her. On the other hand, Katara was used to larger fights with multiple assailants, so finding a way to fine tune her approach took time. They danced together, testing for weaknesses and vulnerabilities. As they got in close, Zuko winked at her, and Katara faltered on her heel. 

“I’ve seen musk sloths move faster than you!” Toph yelled.

“You can’t see at all!” Katara yelled back. 

“Yeah but I can and this is BORING.” Rohan added.

A gust blew them back, with Katara immediately pulling a frozen shield across herself and Zuko. 

“A new challenger approaches!” Rohan stated, standing in front of them. 

“Shall we?” Zuko asked, holding out his hand.

Zuko relaxed and Katara found herself relying on his style in order to free her movements. Rohan seemed more interested in dodging, which was easier since they weren’t bound by any physical need to stay on the ground. 

And it was all fun and games, until the Earthbender attacked.

Toph jumped in, deciding that a sparring match had to actually involve sparring. When Rohan still wouldn’t get pinned down, Toph decided to change the game.

Avatar versus the four nations.

Thuy, having not even started Firebending or Airbending, was summarily chased around the fenced field. Katara, feeling for her bending kin, took her side, while Zuko ran interference.

Knowing she wasn’t getting anywhere, Toph called it and yanked Rohan out of the air after they made the mistake of bumping into one of the protruding earth columns. The two of them then called over Thuy, and they started planning something.

Zuko avoided the benches, and instead sat down against the fence as he watched the others. Katara groaned as she fell next to him, leaning against his shoulder. They were both sweating and smelled like dirt, both wet and charred. 

Throwing his arm over her shoulder, Zuko pulled her close and kissed her hair quickly. Hating the warmth of his skin against hers, Katara still relaxed against him, not wanting to move. 

“I am going to be so sore.” He said. 

“I can fix that.” Katara said. 

“Look at them, disgusting.” Zuko said, jokingly. 

Still, Katara looked at the trio in confusion.

“What?” She asked.

“This is all they have to do. No leaving to run a country, just playing tag with the Avatar.” 

“Oh, that.” Katara remarked. “Yeah, that does suck.”

“Doesn’t it?” Zuko rubbed her arm, but his fingers pressed into her skin in a familiar way.

“We can’t.” She whispered.

“Can’t…?” Zuko turned to her and, upon seeing her face, blushed deeply.

“Ah.” He added and cleared his throat. “Right.”

“I swear, every time you practice, you get like this.” Katara said, laughing. 

Still blushing, Zuko smiled and kept his gaze averted. 

“My blood’s hot, what can I say?” He replied. 

“That’s not where your bending comes from.” Katara countered. “It’s more here.”

She pressed the tips of her fingers against his abdomen and Zuko held her hand, pressing it against his chest. 

“And yours?” Zuko asked softly, leaning toward her.

“Would you two please get a room?” Toph shouted. “I can feel your weird vibes from here!” 

“I’m pretty sure Zuko’s gonna spontaneously combust if he has to wait much longer.” Rohan said.

“Does that happen?” Thuy gasped.

“According to some urban legends, yeah.” Ty Lee answered, moving to the fence to get closer. 

“Could that happen to me? I’m going to be a Firebender too.” Thuy asked.

Zuko grumbled as he stood up, but Katara snorted. 

“I don’t know, who are you dating, young lady?” Rohan asked.

“There’s a guy that keeps hanging around my school. I guess I know why now.” Toph said.

“Sifu!” Thuy shouted. 

Zuko held out his hand and Katara took it, standing as he pulled her up. 

“I need a shower.” He said.

“We both do.” Katara replied.

“Oh come on!” Toph yelled. “Just leave already!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Zuko said, giving Katara’s hand a firm squeeze.

“They’ll probably be distracted for awhile.” Ty Lee said, as the pair came through the door. “It looks like Rohan is drawing diagrams in the dirt.”

“Hmm.” Zuko grunted, not looking at Ty Lee.

“Just make sure Thuy gets her acupuncture and I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Katara said lightly. 

Ty Lee patted the pouch clipped to her belt and Katara smiled. Then Zuko yanked her away, heading purposefully back to the house.

“Zuko? Your shirt?” She asked.

“I’ve got plenty.” Zuko said shortly.

“We don’t have to rush.”

“You owe me some healing.” Zuko said and glanced over his shoulder. His gold eyes glinted and the edge of his gaze was a razor in her lungs. 

She wondered if she would ever get used to him like this.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51

[xxtraord1nary]

POV

Fandom: Open Heart

Pairing: Tobias Carrick x f!mc (Charlotte West)

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Constructive criticism is always welcome! No hate please and thank you for reading reblog and comment if you enjoyed.

Summary: A very naughty and heavily pregnant Charlotte much prefers her handsome lovers point of view.

Warnings: Strong Language, Fellatio, Sex, and a tad of dark humor. If that makes you uncomfortable please exit stage left because you’ve been warned. Overall vulgar.

Tag list: @katkart122 @missmiimiie @openheartfanfics

“Tobias, I am not playing with you get that damn camera out of my face! It's way too early for your shit.” Charlotte snapped whilst swatting at the pest she called a husband as he continued to record his very moody wife with his old camera he found a couple a months ago when Char ordered him with a broom in hand to go “clean that damn garage” or he could sleep on the couch for a month, so that being all the motivation he needed Tobias got to it with vigor.

“You're really good at this whole black mama thing Charlie.” he teases with a shit eating grin plastered on his stupidly perfect face. “Keep it up and I’ll be a single black mama if you don’t quit.” she grunted while taking down her plaited kinky tendrils that in the morning tended to have a mind of their own.

“Now why would you say that?”

“Because I’m going to kill you” she said whilst continuing to grumpily apply toothpaste to her electric toothbrush.

“Really talking like that when I’m recording, then the police will immediately know who to be held responsible in the case of my untimely demise, Charlie.” he further ribbed while shaking his head playfully behind the lens.

“Screw you and the police Carrick.” she spat.

“Babe, you know all you have to do is corporate and let me get my daily picture of you and our little Tiny Tia. So get with the program.” he chided with a small but genuine smile as he further gazed at the love of his life and their little one growing inside her very pregnant belly.

“Alright two things: that name is super cute and I’m surprised you came up with that yourself.”

“I’m good for something, see?” to which she answered with a ‘meh’ and shrug of her shoulders.

“I’m offended.” and again another answer in the form of shrugged shoulders and a hard roll of the eyes.

“Now for two, why on earth do you need a picture every day?” she whined with tired eyes.

“This is our first child out of many, I need to capture every moment. Now lift up your shirt!” he confidently proclaimed.

She didn’t want to burst his little bubble but if he thought for a second she was pushing another of his big headed babies out of her lady parts he was sorely mistaken. ‘What the hell is “out of many” anyways?’ she pondered with a perplexed expression. “Absolutely not, I look like a gross ragamuffin.”

He sighed, “Charlie lift up your shirt or I’m gonna hold out.” he asservated pleased with her shocked expression. “Oh yeah, hold out what exactly?” she challenged with raised eyebrows. He knew the denial of sex would be the thing to do it for her. Already she had an insatiable sexual appetite hence here they were here six months pregnant, but pregnancy hormones only amplified that. “You really don’t wanna play those games with me Tobias, or you’ll find yourself handcuffed to bed and taken by force.” she lightheartedly fired back. “I’m quite intrigued as long as I can return the favor.” he huskily dropped an octave and whispered to her. She shivered and scoffed “You a silly little freak.” with a laugh.

“Honestly Charlie, all this is unnecessary as all I wanted was my pictures and could have been going about my business by now but someone refused to get along with the picture. Pun heavily intended.” he sighed.

“Okay I’ll bite, but what are you even doing with these pictures?”

“Well, if you must know. I take your picture or video then I pleasure myself.” he sexily drawled “then upload it online to make a virtual scrapbook.” he happily finished. “Why am I not surprised?” she chuckled as she shoved his laughing form. “Wait, you still masturabte?” she inquisitively questioned.

“Well, yeah sometimes you're in a horrifying mood and I’d rather work with what I’ve got than you ripping my head off, do you?”

“Actually no, not since I met you at least.” she truthfully noted, as her hands just didn’t do the job since Dr. Tobias Carrick waltzed into her life with his devilishly handsome face and rocked her world.

“I’m doing my job right then.” he pressed with a smirk. “Mhm, too right if you ask me.” she quipped pointing to her very round and beautiful stomach adorned with barely visible glittery stretch marks that only magnified her beauty and strength. “What’s on your mind now?” he pried while she poked at her bump in the mirror. “Me and Sienna, Aurora, and Jackie are going out to Carson Beach and I can’t decide whether to wear a two or one piece.”

“Two pieces of course so I can enjoy the fruits of my labor.” he smiled proudly.

“Four minutes hardly constitutes at “labor” she mocked with air quotes. He smacked his teeth in annoyance, “If you loved me you’d do this for me.” he pleaded. And now it was her turn to kiss her teeth, “Fine!” she huffed. “But leave my face out of it, I look icky in the mornings.” to which he eagerly disagreed and pecked her lips but not before muttering something along the lines of “stunning”.

“Alright, I’ll give you your little video but you have to do something for me.” she suggestively proposed. To which he readily agreed as he loved her ‘just been fucked’ afterglow. He then turned off the old camcorder and attempted to put it away but she fingered the loops of his jeans “Uh uh turn it back on.”

He was sure his eyes were completely bulging out of his skull and managed to mutter a “Charlie a-are you serious?” in his daze. She nodded and sunk down to her knees as she slowly tugged down his boxers and elicited a low groan from him.

In the lens of the camera she expertly handled his member with care and tenderly began to stroke him giggling at his floored expression. “You ready for me, Tobias?” she tantalizingly asked not ceasing her stroking. Receiving an eager nod and thumbs up from the camera she smirked at her success in making the talkative bastard speechless. Expertly she teased his large in girth and lengthy member with the tip of her tongue before guiding him into her mouth as she had done tons of times before sucking her mans dick like a woman starved.

“Oh god, slow down baby.” Tobias pitifully groaned while screwing his mind down as the love of his life expertly worked him. “You wanna be inside me, baby?” she whispered in a sultry tone against the head of his member cursing a pleasant shiver to rack his body. He didn’t answer but instead made a gesture behind the camera for me to turn around. He thanked the heavens above for the easy access and the fact that she was wearing one of his shirts and abandoned underwear long ago. She hissed as his large strong hand cam crashing down on her bare ass, and soothed the pleasant sting with a soft rub. “Perfect.” he murmured as he continued his caressing of her more than generous backside. “How’s the view?” she asked with a wink through the mirror.

And with a quick and brutal thrust he was inside leaving her panting mess on the cold surface of the bathroom countertop as she moaned slowly.

“Amazing.” he quickly answered before he began his unrelenting deep thrust. “Deeper” she moaned out in the air. Resting on her palms and easing away from the countertop she made eye contact with a chipper Tobias as he violently thrust into her and she had to brace herself. “Where are you going Char?” Tobias teased as she stood on her tiptoes desperately in an unsuccessful attempt of creating space between them.

“Damn I know I told him deeper, but now he's just showing out for the camera.” she thought while groaning as he hit a spot inside her making let out a loud guttural moan. He made the most out of his opportunity reaching to rub her clit. Moaning even louder he soon used one hand to grip her shoulder as he angled the camcorder downwards to catch sight of his pelvis meeting her dripping cunt. Closing her eyes for some reprieve she opened them to meet Tobias’s eyes in the mirror to find him damn near gnawing through his lip to hold back his loud groans.

Her release soon crep up on her and she moaned loudly, “Baby, I-” to which he cut her off as he sped up his tireless thrust, “Me too. Don’t wait for me.” and with that she came harder than ever and fell back on the counter, a panting mess and sweating bullets and winced as he pulled out of her. She mistakenly thought he was going to clean her only for him to zoom in the camera to get a close up of her used pussy with his milky cum dripping out of her.

Once he caught his breath he chuckled “That was amazing and it wasn’t even my birthday.” to which she rolled her eyes with a dazed expression and a small smile on her face since enjoying the after effects of their morning activities.

“Yeah yeah you better delete that.” she warned turning on the shower.

“Uh-Uh Charlie we just made a porno, I’m downloading this to my USB and keeping it in my safe.” he remarked while being transfixed at the camcorder in his hands causing her to snort with laughter.

“Whatever, if it gets leaked I better get paid for it.” she declared while leaving to her shower leaving Tobias in a cheerful fit of post orgasmic laughter.

Fin.

A/N: That was nasty and you read it so you’re nasty too.

[heroprose]

pst part 2 for ‘write it in ash’ have mercy pLS

a/n. the fact that you’re a fan of that oldie made this one a priority….. forewarning for the regular antics when it comes to my writing LOL thanks for requesting!!

– for those who don’t know, i wrote a demon (summoning) au ft. our guy izuku over here!

//

you worry your bottom lip between your teeth. there’s a sliver of you that is in fact startled to find the incubus still in your living room when you returned from the bathroom. he sits so stiffly, so uneasily, that you wonder if it’s the atmosphere of your home that sets him on edge, or if that’s just how he comes across to all his clients.

you don’t blame him entirely if it’s the former rather than the latter; after all, it’s not every day you entertained demonic company in your apartment. it’s hard to know what sort of mannerisms to adopt in their horned presence. you actually think you’re grappling the situation better than most would.

and midoriya, for whatever reason, is pretending that he’s not watching you cross the room towards him, but it’s ridiculously obvious, from the way his gaze shoots about after accidentally meeting your gaze. 

the living room, to your disdain, still smells faintly of sulphur and that’s not something that can be scrubbed off in a day. nevertheless, you take a seat beside midoriya, leaving ample distance between you and him for niceties. 

“so,” you start, working to undo the palpable silence. “midoriya– if that’s even your real name– i’ve a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

“we’re bound to confidentiality,” he confesses, finally taking in your presence directly. “there are some things i just cannot tell you. but– but midoriya really is my real name. not my whole name, per se, since demons go by many names but– um, yes.” he trails off. “yeah. ask away.”

this, of course, perks your attention profoundly, your gaze traveling back to his eyes from lingering on the impressive pair of horns that sprout from somewhere underneath his green curls. “alright. is it like an nda agreement?” you press. “who do you work for? the devil? lucifer? beelzebub? do you live in hell?”

“i– apologies,” he says, sounding genuinely sorry as he shakes his head and his green hair bounces. “i really can’t answer any of those questions. but, you know, if you want to ask me anything in regards to being an incubus in particular, i’m sure i can offer you some insight.”

you nod. his awkward ambiguity could only lead you to conclude that yes, he probably did live in hell and work for the devil. “so like, what’s the demographic of your services?” you prompt, leaning in,

“pardon?” he says, eyebrows quirked way up.

“i mean, what kind of person would summon incubi?”

he thinks this over, his green eyes glancing away for a second. “humans,” he eventually offers.

your eyes thin out, unsure if he’s avoiding the question or just really that oblivious. “right,” you say. “virgins or occultists?”

this sends him for a loop. “um,” he lets slip. “well. you know. it really depends; i can’t really say– oh! maybe… maybe humans like you?”

you shake your head, before letting yourself slump back onto the couch, your head hitting the back cushion. “midoriya,” you complain, flutters of amusement pulling at your mouth. “you can’t just keep giving me these loose answers if you’re trying to get it on with me. besides, me summoning you was an accident! a happy one at that, but an accident all the same.”

he purses his lips. “sorry,” he says hastily, brows knitted before he fully registers your words. “wait– huh? no, no, i’m not trying to do anything, i swear! this is all on you.”

“all on me?”

midoriya nods briskly.

“so does that mean you have no say in the matter? whenever someone summons you, you go?”

he reaches behind to scratch the back of his neck. “well, not exactly,” he replies, and taps the coffee table where dark, charred lines have been carved in. “the sigil you’ve drawn here isn’t mine mine; it’s a general summoning symbol for incubi. we all get the signal, but i was the one to answer your call. um, i hope you don’t mind.”

“i see,” you hum, trying to fit this all in your head with human business parallels but to no avail. no matter what he says (or doesn’t say), it is plain to see he is not of this earth. you wonder if you can somehow tease the solid answer out of him for your own interest.

“is that all you wish to ask?” he stammers out. “i’ve never met a human with so many questions.”

you stare, skeptical. “you’re kidding,” you say. “no one has asked you stuff like, whether you live in hell or not? what having horns feels like? i think these are important things to clarify.”

his fingers lift up to hover over his dark, nearly black horns that point upward. the root of the horns are mostly hidden by his hair but still, they are impressive. you can’t help but want to touch.

“all demons have horns,” he says, tapping his right one. “how many of them and what color can vary though.”

“huh,” you say. “that’s cool.”

midoriya lets out a brief laugh, dropping his hand. “i suppose. they can be a bit unwieldy, honestly. i’ve torn so many shirts with these horns.”

“damn,” you say. “you’re tearing people’s clothes off?”

he coughs. “oh, no! no, not other people’s– i mean my own.”

“such a gentleman.” your cheeks are full of mirth and humor. “can i touch?”

“y-yeah, if you really want to,” he says, still abashed. 

you scoot closer and take a horn in your hand, feeling the ribbed keratin. the skin of it is powdery, and underneath the artificial ceiling lights, they gleam with a dull shine. you’re mesmerized, quite frankly, at how surreal your current predicaments felt. 

feeling too polite to go down to the base of the horn, you kept your fingers around the tip and the midsection, running them horizontally for a few moments, then vertically.

your thumb rubs along the ridges, so delighted in the novel texture that you don’t notice the pleasant expression on his face until you glance down.

his eyes have fluttered shut, and his breaths came deep and rhythmically, like small sighs– but his fists, his fists were clenched in his lap as he sat cross-legged facing your direction.

afraid you were doing something strange to him, you withdraw your hand. almost immediately his eyes reopens.

“sorry–” you both say in unison. his bright gaze dart away while you laugh.

“do you sap people’s energy through your horns?” you inquire.

he shakes his head. “nothing like that. it’s just that any kind of intimacy is, well, appreciated for our kind, you could say.”

“but if i just kept a five foot radius from you at all times, you’d eventually regain your health too?”

you don’t miss the way his face falls. “well, yes…”

“okay; that said, final question.”

“yes?”

“what’s your body count?”

there’s a beat before he reacts.

“b-body count?! you mean like how many people i’ve– you really want to know this sort of thing?” he sputters, instinctively drawing away as far as he could so his backside hit the inner arm of the couch.

“please,” you say, waving your hand around dismissively, as if to ease him. “i mean, you do look my age, but i bet you’re ancient. in human years, of course. this sort of thing doesn’t bother me.”

he blanches. “i’m… uhh…” his mouth open and closes wordlessly, and in the end, you’re to understand that he won’t be saying anything too incriminating.

“if you won’t tell me, i’ll have to take an educated guess then. is that okay?” there is barely a jerky tilt of the head from him before you continue. 

“low thousands,” you state. “actually, i’m being stingy. let’s say mid thousands.”

you’re certain that if he were drinking water, he would’ve spat it all over you at this point. blood seems to rush to his face, his ears turning a deep shade of red as he gapes at you. “where are you pulling these numbers?!”

“i don’t know how to gauge your reaction,” you muse, tapping your chin with a forefinger. “too low? i think it’s pretty high myself.”

“i– i think that’s plenty high!” he practically yells out of embarrassment and you nearly feel bad. nearly. 

you pull your knees underneath you on the couch and lean your hands on them. “come on. i can’t be far off. you seem like the type of guy that people can’t get enough of.”

midoriya mumbles something unintelligible under his breath, and you take a knee forward.

“what?” you ask.

his mouth parts, his tongue running along his bottom lip before breathing out, “i said, wouldn’t you like to know…?” the flush hasn’t left his ears yet at all and you suspect it won’t fade for a bit.

“hm,” you say, greatly entertained. with deliberation, you bring both your hands up to cup his cheeks. “i think you have me sold.” he almost sighs again, but cuts himself short, as if in an attempt to restrain himself.

“that’s good– great, great, i mean,” he says. his eyes drift to your thighs, and his fingers find purchase on your wrists. “and i have to confess–”

his unexpected speed catches you off guard, and in a split second, his fingers are gone and instead scrabbling at your waist, sinking lower by the second.

“i feel bad for not having questions of my own this entire time,” he says, his words almost stumbling over each other. “i hope you can forgive me.”

“is a demon asking me for my forgiveness?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek. “flattering. maybe.”

midoriya’s eyes just gleam feverishly, but up close now, his gaze looks different. to be specific, you never noticed how almond-shaped his pupils really were, and how fast they were blowing up. “maybe… maybe i can make it up to you instead?” he asks and you find that there is nothing clever left to remark with.

[theowriteswhatever]

Zuko Story With No Title Part 3

I had only been able to see Zuko after sunset when Katara was asleep. Or she knew exactly what was going on and didn’t care anymore. 

Katara and I hadn’t really talked and everyone else moved on like things were normal. Except not really. I could see the pity behind their eyes and how desperately they wanted to talk about everything, but they tried their best to hide it. Aang tried to bring it up once and get me to talk about how I felt, but I refused. I just avoided it and closed him out. I knew he wanted to help me feel better and he was the best person to do it, but I just couldn’t.

It felt like my closest friend was Zuko and he didn’t even know who I was. He thought I was this silly and sweet law-abiding Ba Sing Se citizen that had no idea any bad was going on outside our walls. That there was no fire nation attack, there was no banished prince, and there was no avatar. I wanted to tell him who I was and I could see he wanted to tell me his true identity too. 

The tea shop had luckily moved to the richer area of Ba Sing Se so I could get there sooner. And Iroh owns it now so he always gave me free tea, even though I attempted to refuse every time. He would always say “If you can warm my nephew’s heart, I can warm you some free tea.” 

But today, after we had finally found Appa and everything became close to normal, we decided to split up for a while. Sokka was going to help his father fight, Aang was taking Appa to the Northern Air Temple to talk to guru, Toph was going to “see” her parents, Katara was going back to the North Pole to teach the students about waterbending while Pakku was in the South Pole, and I was staying with Momo to help make an invasion plan about the Day of Black Sun. 

I knew I had to talk to Katara before she left.

I knocked on her door and she let out a faint “come in”. I opened her door to see her packing some supplies and clothes. “You know I love you Toph, but you cannot use my make-up wipes as tissues again.” 

“It’s not Toph.” I said lightly. She froze for a second before turning around to look at me. I expected her to cross her arms or put her hands on her hips in the way she regularly did when she was mad, but she just stood there. No eyebrow raise or remark about “how she knew I would come back and apologize”. She just stood and stared.

“I should’ve talked to you sooner. You deserve an apology. I know you care about me and I really appreciate that. There’s no but or just. I’m simply. . .sorry.” I whispered to the ground as I shifted from my heel to my toe. 

I was almost certain that she would yell at me or snap back, but still out of love like it always was. She would get her anger out, but then calm down after a while and apologize. She deserved to blow up at me too and not talk to me until she came back, but she didn’t.

She wrapped me in a hug and for a second, I didn’t hug back. I slowly wrapped my arms around her too and it felt so familiar. So right. I hugged her tight and she hugged me tighter as if it was a competition. We eventually let go and she wiped a tear from her eye.

“You had every right to say what you said. I’m sorry I ruined your day.” She said as she continued to rub her slightly red eyes. 

“You didn’t ruin it. And honestly, I’ve had more interesting and fun days in the past few months than I’ve ever had. And probably ever will. I mean, when you’re traveling with the world’s only hope for peace, it’s bound to be pretty entertaining.” 

We giggled a little bit and she hugged me again.

“I missed you, (Y/N). I need another girl around to help keep me sane, considering how Toph can be sometimes.” I laughed again.

“I missed you too.”

*   *   *

Everything was relatively normal. Except for Zuko. He was acting differently ever since we got Appa back. He was being really really sweet and while it was a pleasant surprise, it wasn’t Zuko. It wasn’t my Zuko anymore. But I continued to visit and speak with him and had the occasional life advice from Iroh.

Today, I made my way after a meeting with the battle strategists while Momo sat on my shoulder. I walked in in my unique outfit, altered make-up, and special hairstyle and sat down at my regular front left table. The Jasmine Dragon was empty except for me, probably because it was an ungodly hour in the morning.

“Hey Leeane!” Zuko said cheerily. But then he looked like he had seen a ghost. He went as pale as he possibly could and his mouth opened slightly.

“What? Is something on my face?” I panicked as I felt for something.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, pointing to Momo. It took me a second to realize my mistake and I knew that everything was gone. Every thrilling conversation, deep confession, stupid joke, or funny story from the past few weeks was all in vain.

“(Y/N)?” He asked in shock. I nodded in fear as I looked down at the table, but I could tell his face was going from a ghostly white to an angry beet red. “You lied to me!”

“It’s not like you were honest with me either, Mr. Fire Prince.” He clenched his fist and his face got even redder. If this were a cartoon, steam would be coming out of his ears. 

“Why did you do this? To trick me? Lead me on? Make me feel bad?”

I stood up to defend myself and Momo jumped on to the table to drink my now long forgotten chamomile. “No.”

“Then why?” He questioned with rage in his voice, even though I could tell he was truly hurt behind it.

“I wanted to get to know you.” He rolled his eyes at my true confession and scoffed.

“Yeah right. You “cared” about the guy who’s tried to kill you for the past 5 months.” I stood in shame, because I knew deep down I did care about him. But I only started to because I pitied him. He deserved better.

Iroh walked out and saw me and smiled. But then he saw how angry Zuko was and the regret that was clearly spread throughout my face. He then saw Momo and understood.

“Look Zuko, I’m sorry. I could tell from the second we started talking as someone that wasn’t me, you needed a friend. And I just wanted to help.”

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him. “I don’t need your pity.” He growled. 

He began to conjure fire in his hand that was still suffocating my wrist. It was the worst pain I had ever felt. Not only the stinging sensation that grew throughout my arm that forced tears to leak from my eyes, but the sadness of our betrayal towards each other. The loss of our friendship. The lack of any mercy in his eyes. The forgotten joy we used to feel around each other. It all hurt like a stab wound, but I knew I was the one who held the knife in the first place. The fire spread up my arm and charred it like a sad brisket. 

“Zuko!” Iroh yelled as he pulled Zuko away. I held my now red and black arm and practically cradled it. It kept stinging, but it was all forgotten when I looked at the rage on Zuko’s face. I never thought he’d look at me like that again, but here we were.

“Get out!” He yelled while Iroh still held him back so he couldn’t hurt me again. I nodded and put Momo on my shoulder. 

I made my way out of the building and into the square, but I looked back one time. Zuko glanced at me and for a second I swore there was a tinge of regret in his eyes. But then he looked back at the ground and sulked away. 

I turned back and continued on my way. But this time, I was just me. Me with no Leeane. Me with no friends. And me with no Zuko. 

[adventuresloane]

Chicken Soup for the Undead Soul

Summary: "'Alright, I'm here to make chicken soup and accidentally scorch your petunias,' she said, 'and I've already...well, sorry about that.'"

This is...bonding? Kravitz thinks this is bonding. (Taako gets sick and Lup and Kravitz cook for him idk what else you need to know.)

Rating: T (for safety)

Relationships: Kravitz & Lup, Kravitz/Taako

((Yes it’s another of my ask meme fics I polished up and put on AO3 u gotta deal))

Read on AO3

As was her wont, Lup called, "Anyone home," didn't wait for a response, and then phased into the house through the two inches of wood. Kravitz stopped, then set the lamp he was holding back into the box of baby blue packing peanuts. He waited for the smell of burning living room curtain to reach his nose. Luckily, it didn't, this time.

She floated in the foyer and looked around in a confident, surveying manner, skeletal hands on her hypothetical hips, as though he weren't standing right in front of her. "Alright, I'm here to make chicken soup and accidentally scorch your petunias," she said, "and I've already...well, sorry about that."

Those had been purchased and planted hardly four days prior, but Kravitz didn't remark on that. "Lup. You don't know how glad I am you're here."

She gave a congenial little shrug, causing the flames that rose from her shoulders to shiver upwards before falling again. "Well, hope I didn't keep you waiting. How's Taako?" The question came out quickly. It was particularly relevant today, but it was also one of the first things she asked every time she came in. "That doofus had better be sleeping."

"He's trying upstairs, I think. Not that I would get my hopes up."

"'Trying?'"

"Yes." Kravitz waited. The black, featureless face inside her red hood stayed fixed on him, and she did not carry on the conversation as he'd hoped she would. It seemed that she wanted more from him. "Well...well, I think it's hard for him. He hasn't slept once in the time that I've known him, or in the past decade at all, as far as he's told me. I'm sure he's out of practice if all he does is Trance."

"Oh! Right, right," she said. There was a beat, and then it passed. In the same tone that she'd had when she'd first floated in, she continued, "Well, whatever. He's lucky he's capable of lying in a bed at all."

"Ha, yes," Kravitz said, right before he said nothing. For a few moments that felt too long and vaguely sweaty to him, he stared at Lup, and presumably she stared back, in spite of the fact that he couldn't tell where her eyes were. Her spectral form bobbed slightly up and down in the air, and flames with dark red centers licked off the char-black bones of her hands, and suddenly he was rather glad she always knocked rather than, say, floating up through the floor unannounced when she felt like it. And now the silence was decidedly awkward. He pushed aside one of several unopened cardboard boxes with his foot. "Um, it's his own fault, really. Taako's been spending all his time trying to unpack and organize the house at the same time he's getting things organized to start his school. It's no wonder he's fallen ill--"

"Language." He turned to face her when she piped up. "Just say 'got sick.' No one says 'fall ill' anymore."

He couldn't quite hold back his grimace.

"Hey, you were the one who asked me to correct you when you talked like an old geezer."

This was true. It was also true, he was sure, that she enjoyed chastising him for a change, when normally he was the one telling her what to do during reaper training. He moved on. "Anyway, like I said, I'm glad I have you here to help now."

"Everything going alright so far."

"Yes. Well, I think so. I pre-salted the chicken, like you said. It's been waiting for five hours."

"That'll do. We can start on the broth. So how about the seasonings I told you to get? Did you pick up the rosemary?"

"Yes."

"And the parsley?"

"Two teaspoons of dried."

"And the oregano?"

He screeched to a stop, balked. There was no way. He had double- and triple-checked the list she had given him. He couldn't have missed anything. Could he have missed anything? He didn't know anything about cooking, but Taako always said something about the balance of flavors, and what if he'd just pulled a playing card out from the middle of the tower--

She laughed. "I'm fucking with you. Lighten up, dude." She attempted to pat him on the shoulder as she floated past him into the kitchen. Her hand passed right through him a couple times, but eventually she hard enough to make contact. Sometimes she spent a lot of time trying to touch corporeal things. Maybe that was how she'd burned the flowers. "Anyway, who's gonna use oregano when you've already got a buttload of rosemary in there? Come on."

But that was what he was here for today, to be her hands. According to her, there was precious little room for error when making this soup if they wanted to do it The Right Way, no leeway for her to accidentally drop in too much celery or pepper. There was precious little room for error, Kravitz reminded himself as he followed her instructions to strip the chicken meat from the bones.

"I bought a few different kinds of noodles, since I wasn't sure what was best," he said. "There's those twisty egg noodles, thin pasta, the flat ones--"

"Flat," Lup answered rather like a patient schoolteacher, "and don't break them up when you put them in the soup. He'll slurp them up one-by-one when no one's watching, but he'll never admit that."

"Right." He wanted to say, I knew that. He didn't exactly know, not from experience, and yet it was the kind of thing he'd expected from Taako. He felt like he didn't have to be told.

"That comes later, though," she said. "The noodles cook separately, and it doesn't take long."

"Oh. Alright."

"We used to make the noodles from scratch back on the ship and save them for rainy days, but store-bought's gonna have to do. Hey, do you have a pepper mill?"

"A what?"

"You know, for grinding up fresh-cracked pepper. Taako likes a lot of it."

Kravitz thought. "I think Taako does, but it might be in storage." He clumsily tried to get his nails under the papery skin of a garlic bulb, trying to peel it off. "Did he tell you he likes it fresh-ground better?"

Lup cocked her head a little. "I don't think he told me, per se. He just...well, he always used to like it that way, at least."

He nodded, stiffly. Then he continued nodding through a litany of other questions and corrections from her, about keeping the skin on the onions when he puts them in and how often he'll need to skim the fat from the top of the broth and how to extract the flavor from the bones and how much anise to add. There was a temptation to remark that he could, in fact, operate a stove. But he would say this for her: for someone who came across as so impulsive sometimes, she was surprisingly fastidious when it came to cooking. She knew everything about this dish. About what Taako liked about it. Given that he didn't feel hunger and as such hadn't done much in the way of cooking for hundreds of years, he had little choice but to listen to her. Although it would be nice if she could stop instructing him long enough for him to try to absorb what he was doing, so that he could remember all these details himself, for the next time Taako got sick.

He was so busy trying to keep up with her that he barely registered it when she abruptly switched to praise. "You're not half-bad, Skele-friend."

"Huh?" he responded, all dignity. "Oh, well, I'm just doing what you tell me. Or trying to."

"Yeah, well, you're doing a good job of it. Especially since you haven't taken orders from anyone less than a goddess for, what, a few centuries?"

"And you haven't made this recipe in quite some time. It's incredible how well you remember it."

She paused. "Taako's the one who always used to make it, actually," she murmured. "I'd be the helper. Unless I was the one who was sick. Then he'd do it himself. I feel like it's about time I returned the favor."

Kravitz couldn't keep from grinning at the thought. "I had a feeling he'd be a caring older brother."

"He's not my older brother. We're twins."

"Who's older, though?"

"Neither, we were born at the same time!"

"So you're the younger one."

She attempted to give him a playful shove. "Of course you'd take his side," she said in an exaggerated grumble. "I suppose you've had siblings?"

"Yes," he said quietly. He returned to stirring and said nothing else. Mercifully, she got the hint. After a moment, she materialized a white wand of sharpened bone into her hand (one of Barry's ulnas that he'd gifted to her, she'd told Kravitz once, which...said something about their relationship, alright). He watched her point it into the broth.

His side-eye must have been more obvious than he'd suspected, because she huffed when she caught sight of him staring. For someone whose face was little more than a black void with an ember-like glow of red at the center, she could give quite the eye-roll. "Relax, Mr. Death Cop. It's healing magic." She stopped for a moment, apparently to judge whether she could push her luck. "Though, you know, necromancy is hardly different from the stuff clerics do every day."

"I'm no great arcanist, Lup. I just take down cultists. And you know that whether or not clerics do it doesn't matter to the Raven Queen. Whether it's Vampiric Touch or Revivify, it's still a corruption of fate."

"Alright, spare me the speech, please. I'm just saying," she said with another shrug. "I am an arcanist, and I can tell you that it's the same kind of magical energy to heal or hurt, just flowing in different directions."

There had been an eon when he had felt that as opposed to simply knowing it, back before he'd had a scythe or a home in the Astral Plane. When he could ease his mother's headaches with a song.

"Shit," she shouted out of nowhere, and simultaneously, blue flames from the gas burners shot up suddenly. Kravitz scrambled for the heat dials. "Shit, wait, I just remembered something."

"What is it? Did we forget something?"

"Doesn't everything he eat taste like Gogurt now?" Her voice began to pitch up a little, grow strained. "What if he can't even taste the soup?"

"It's okay, Lup," he responded before she could go on. "I've asked him about that. He said soup doesn't count for the curse. He'll be able to taste it."

"Oh." She sounded as though she'd let out a sigh of relief, though she lacked lungs. "Okay, I just wasn't sure. Magnus had to tell me that, you know. I wouldn't have even known Taako was cursed otherwise."

Kravitz glanced her way. "Does that bother you?"

"It's not like he has to tell me," she said quickly. Then she hesitated, which, as far as he had learned, was not characteristic. She could be patient, but not hesitant, not unassured. "It's just weird that I...don't already know, I guess. I've just--you'll want a chef's knife for that."

"Which one is--?"

"Curved blade. And it's easier if you don't move the knife back and forth. Just pass the carrot under the blade while you chop." She sighed. "Anyway, I just missed things. A lot."

Kravitz bit his lip. "Well...you still know him like no one else. You realize that, don't you? I feel like I'm playing catch-up with all the rest of you. You all had a hundred years to figure him out. And you in particular had quite a few more."

"You're not doing too bad on that front already, bud." He could have sworn he saw a smile peek out from under the hood. He didn't recall her ever calling him "bud" before. "Not from what Taako's told me, anyway."

He stopped stirring the wooden spoon through the golden fluid for awhile. "I guess it's good you'll be moving in with us before too long, huh? We can bring each other up to speed."

"Listen, this shit's gonna be done before long. Why don't you take it up to him yourself?"

Kravitz looked her way. "You sure? It's your soup. You don't want to come up with me?"

"I'll see him plenty later. I'm sure I will."

Minutes later, he was knocking on the door of Taako's bedroom--their shared bedroom, now, with a new king-sized bed and mattress. There were a few instances of throat-clearing before Kravitz heard a croak of "Come in."

He pushed through the door, steaming bowl in both hands. "Hey, darling, have you slept at all?"

"Can't sleep at the best of times, babe." Taako followed up the answer with a snort. "This cold's some bullshit."

He chuckled. "I told you you'd get sick if you kept working like you've been."

"Can it, Bone-Hands McGee." He sat up and struggled to sniff some air through his stuffed nose. "Hey, is that--?"

"Lup helped." He lifted his shoulders in a way that he hoped would come across as self-effacing, as if the soup in his hands didn't smell like absolute heaven.

"That so?" He wiped his nose with a tissue, though not before Kravitz saw the blush creep into his warm cheeks. He saw that blush a lot, and always just at the moment that the two of them met eyes. Each time was a gift, whether Taako meant to give it to him or not. "Let's give it a whirl then."

Kravitz sat next to him on the bed and watched the whole while as Taako held the bowl under his nose, let the steam waft up into his sinuses, tipped his head back to show his smooth neck and closed his eyes and drank the broth slowly. Then he licked his lips abruptly and said, "Not bad for someone who considers fancy wine to be an entire meal. Hey, get out of my bed of contagion. You're the one who's gonna get sick next."

He chuckled and ran a hand through Taako's already pillow-ruffled hair. "That's the nice thing about being dead already, sweetheart. I can't get sick." To prove the point, he kissed his cheek.

He kept doing it, in fact, as he and Taako sat together and as the soup was slowly consumed. He hummed softly, then sang more so. And a few times, when he touched his lips to his boyfriend's skin, he tried to dredge up the kind of magic that he hadn't hadn't used for centuries, for the majority of his life. Not since he'd been alive. It felt far different from the kind he used to electrocute or grapple a necromantic cultist, and at first it felt like trying to run water through a pipe that hadn't seen a drop in decades. But he felt the warmth of the magic like he felt the vibration of his vocal chords, energy coming from deep inside of him, from nothing. Taako seemed to breathe more easily as the Healing Word took effect.

It was after the bowl had been sitting empty for awhile that Kravitz felt Taako's breathing slow next to him and take on the rhythm not of meditation, but of sleep.

[divineluce]

An Impasse || Solomon & Luce

Timing: November 13th

Location: The Outskirts

Tagging: @shroomsbysolomon & @divineluce

Description: Solomon and Luce officially meet for the first time. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

For the third night in a row, Luce laced up her shoes and exited the Vural home. Her homecoming had been… rocky at best. A shitshow at worse. And, what with all of the bullshit she’d found out regarding Nadia, Remmy giving her shit for leaving, and the goddamn menagerie of animals in her room, sleeping was pretty much out of the question. Which left her with two options-- hit up Soul and risk running into frankly Frank again, or go for a run. It was a no-brainer. Jogging into the woods, she made her way through the familiar trails that wound their way behind Bea’s home. She’d run them so often that, even after spending a month out of town, she still remembered every curve and turn in the path. It was easy, it was simple, it was going through the motions. She could do that, right? And then, once she could do that, maybe things would get better. As she ran, Luce noticed a figure off the path, illuminated in the waning moonlight and she slowed to a stop. “You lost there?” She asked, squinting through the darkness.

Solomon had a bad habit of losing himself in whatever he was doing, hyper-focusing to the point that he’d forget the world around him until something demanded his attention. In this case, it was an unexpected voice, jarring him out of whatever reverie he’d fallen into and urging him to whip around, clasping his hands behind his back to hide their wooden appearance as he stammered and stalled. “Oh! No, I, uhh…” His struggle to find the right words seemed to lose importance as he took in the visage of the woman on the trail, and something inside of him got all twisted up. It took a few beats for him to be able to place the sudden rush of emotion, not knowing who she was or why he should suddenly feel… fear? But then it came to him, and all at once, that fear was intermingling with anger. “You,” he grumbled, standing up from his crouch and taking a step toward her. He’d seen what she had done in the forest… and the only reason she still stood was because he had also witnessed her pitiful attempt at making amends. It was enough to stay his hand, but the bitter tang of resentment never left his tongue. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, burning the woods like you did.” His typically soft voice was harsher now, still low in volume, but it carried a distinct edge. “I’m still trying to repair the landscape. What’s your problem?”

As the man stammered for a moment, Luce rested her hands on her hips, waiting for him to finish his sentence. It was a bit too dark for her to get a good look at him, but she could tell he wasn’t some lost hiker. For one, no one came hiking around here, not at this time of night. For another, if he wasn’t dressed like one. No backpack, no water bottles, nothing like that. But, then he rose and took a step towards her. Instinctively, Luce’s hands curled at her side, the flames that danced in her blood ready to be called at a moment’s notice. “What the fuck is your problem?” She shot back, startled. Burning the woods? For one thing, how did he know about that? For another, which time was he talking about? One of the many rainy nights when she’d hiked out into the middle of nowhere, to practice her flames? Or when she and Anita had run from the shitty moose creature and she’d lit the brush aflame to escape? Or was it the time she’d razed the ground around her and Adam in the wake of Bea’s death? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Luce lied smoothly.

“Ooohhh, yes you do,” Solomon snapped, his dark eyes narrowing. “I saw you… fleeing the scene, leaving the poor forest in such a state…” It made his heart ache as he recalled the pain he’d felt that night, the sorrow that rose from the ground as it mixed with ash and embers. He was so in tune with the familiar landscape, so very much a part of it, that any damage it suffered bled over to him. It’s why most things never escaped his knowledge, and why he’d had to bloody his hands over the centuries, stopping men from cutting deeper and spreading further. What he couldn’t mention was how his fear had held him back for the first time — seeing that the woman was controlling the fire and not merely setting it free had stopped him in his tracks. If he died, who knew what would happen to the woods? It was too risky, and the damage had been done, so he’d decided to let her go and tend to the charred earth. Letting out a shaky sigh, Solomon appeared to be trying to calm himself, eyes closing while he regained his composure. “But… I saw you trying to make amends, too, so… I suppose it’s a start.” Peering at her once again, the disguised Leshy lifted a finger to point it at her. “Got my eye on you, though…”

As the man glared daggers at her, Luce kept her gaze level. She didn’t give a shit who this guy thought he was, she’d make his night real fucking bad if he decided to try and pull something. But, when he started yelling at her about fleeing the scene, she blinked in confusion. Was he talking about when she’d blown up the Ring with Erin months ago? Or when she’d tried to blow up the shitty mime restaurant? Christ. She really needed to narrow down her arson attempts. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And, even if I did, you’re gonna have to narrow it down.” She said with a shake of her head. The man seemed to be… restraining himself? Like he wanted to move against her? Which would be a bad idea on his part for sure. “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you some kind of stalker? Because you picked the wrong girl for that.”

Stalker? Oh. Solomon drew another weary breath, shaking his head as he pushed his anger aside. “The specifics don’t matter, what does matter is your lack of care when it comes to this place.” He gestured vaguely at the trees that surrounded them, letting his gaze slide away from her for the quickest of moments. “Look, I’m just… all I’m asking is for you to please stop burning it down with your fire… hands.” Whatever you’d call that, he wasn’t sure. He’d never really encountered anything like it before, and he didn’t exactly want to make a habit of it, either. “Lot of things live around here, you know, myself included… and we’re not exactly keen on having our home scorched on the regular.” Truth be told, it was something that half the damn town seemed to need to hear, given their track record. It was exhausting work, trying to keep up with every new threat.

“Uh, it sure fucking does if you’ve been following me around like some kind of creep.” Luce said as she continued to stare at the stranger. As he waved around at the forest and then mentioned her firehands, her eyes narrowed. Had he seen her use her magic before? No, he couldn’t have. For one thing, she covered her bases pretty fucking well. And even if he had, why the fuck was he only just now stopping her. “My fire hands? I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, dude.” She said, shaking her head as though he was speaking nonsense. “I don’t know what you think I’ve done or what you think you saw, but you’re mistaken.” She replied. She wasn’t sure what this guy’s deal was, but it was easier to deny this than to deal with the repercussions that came with someone finding out she was magically inclined.

“I’m not following you, I live here,” Solomon grumbled in return. “I see most things that happen, whether folks want me to or not.” Her continued rebuttals only made him growl in frustration, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You make fire. I don’t know how, but you do it in a way that… normal people cannot. Your denial does not change this fact.” He considered for a moment that perhaps she was like him—inclined to keep that aspect of herself secret. “And personally, I’ve nothing to gain from knowing that, I would just like to formally ask you to please stop setting fire to my forest. Take your flames someplace else.” Exasperation radiated off of him, but his gaze was steady. A hundred and fifty years ago, he’d have just slain her on the spot. But… he was trying to be a little kinder about it in this case, especially since she’d come back later to plant seeds. The gesture warranted recognition. 

He lived here? In the fucking woods? Because that was any less creepy than the fact he’d watched her here. Luce bristled a little as he continued to speak. He’d seen her conjure the flames. How? She’d had run-ins with people before, but she’d always been careful to make sure there was nothing that could ever tie her to the blazes she started. People could look for the ignition point, search for the match or the lighter that didn’t exist because she was the spark. And yet, this fucker seemed to know exactly what she could do. “Let’s say I can do what you say I can do.” She said before gesturing around to them. “Where else would I do shit? If I could make fire, I’m not exactly going to just light up the Common.” She said, though the corner of her mouth turned at the idea. That would be funny, if only for the irritation it would no doubt cause her mother. 

Solomon was, by every account, a very calm and level headed creature. That being said, there was one thing he had almost no patience for, and that was the petulance of a young firestarter.  His entire existence revolved around a singular purpose, and he could only bargain for so long with people like her. His anger flared at her casual, careless remark, dark eyes widening slightly in disbelief. “Anywhere else, girl. Have some respect for the natural world — you’d be dead without it.” He’d taken another step toward her by this point, and something in his body language had changed. He moved less like a man, and more like… well, it was hard to say in the dark of night. “Stop killing things and find a way to be useful with your talents, won’t you? You came back to plant seeds, so I know you must feel some amount of remorse. Hold on to that, remember that, and do not light another blaze in these woods ever again. Do you understand me?” He was being rather generous, he thought, but if she pushed him further still, he couldn’t see himself keeping his composure.

At the sound of the word “girl,” Luce’s eyes narrowed. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Folding her arms across her chest, she felt the heat of her body begin to grow and rise with her increasing anger. “Respect for the natural world? You think I don’t have respect for it?” She said with a growl. “Fire is just as natural as anything else here. What happens to a forest that’s overgrown with brush and shrubs? What happens to the trees when they get overcrowded and parasites begin to take over? Overgrowth saps the life right out of the soil just as much as my fire does.” She said before shoving her hand into the soil beneath their feet. Pulling up a handful of loamy soil, she let it sprinkle from her fingers back on the ground. “Ash feeds the forest, makes space for new things to grow. I planted those seeds because it was what should have happened. Death. Rebirth. Life. And death again.” She spat.

“Fire may be natural, but you are not,” Solomon snapped in return. “Forest fires at the hands of humans are anything but natural.” His relationship with humans had been… a bit tumultuous, over the years. While he found them to be an interesting sort, it was true that they had, time and time again, shown him that they cared not for the earth that had so lovingly lifted them from their evolutionary cradle and taught them how to walk. “It is not for you to decide when that cycle will happen, purely because you have no place else to play with your magic. Insolent… insolent, the lot of you!” His voice had raised in volume and boomed unnaturally around them, anger rushing to the forefront as he relived the countless times he’d seen the land ravaged by humans. All across the continent, as he moved from home to home, he’d encountered ones like her. Or at least, the picture of her that was piecing together in his mind’s eye. He’d slaughtered a whole village for poisoning the nearby river, and while that level of unhinged rage was rare for him, it was far from impossible. His glamour flickered, his focus waning as he became more irate with the woman standing before him. “Humans have been nothing but a blight on this world—you’re parasites, feeding off the land while you expand your rotten towns and cities, razing whole forests to the ground without care! That is not the life of someone who has respect for it.”

Unnatural. Yes, because she was unnatural. Who was he to say these things anyways? Obviously not human, but what was he? “You think I play with magic?” Luce said, temper flaring once more. Magic wasn’t a game, it wasn’t some toy to be played with, something casual to be used and forgotten. “Oh, you couldn’t be more wrong about that.” Magic lived in her, it breathed in her, it was a grounding tether of power that challenged her and demanded her to rise to that challenge. His voice rang through the woods, but Luce held her ground. This man-- no, not exactly man, obviously not. Whatever he was, he yelled at her and she resisted the urge to let her flames ignite. It would be so easy, so, so easy to let the blue flames lick the ground and spread. But. It would only be proving him right. Watching him, Luce caught the shimmer to his appearance, saw it shudder and caught a glimpse of what looked like… mushrooms? She couldn’t be sure, because the image disappeared almost as soon as she saw it. “If I’m a parasite, then what does that make you? If I’m so beneath you, what are you?” She asked, goading him on. What did he think he was, some kind of god?

Upset as he’d become, it didn’t matter to Solomon whether or not he’d accurately judged her entire character; he’d seen what he’d seen, and she seemed to think that setting his wood ablaze was a perfectly acceptable way to kill time, so he had no further words for her. His gaze was fixed steadily on her, eyes narrowed into slits as he stared her down furiously. It wasn’t until she called him out, questioning the authenticity of his appearance, that he faltered. Well, it wasn’t so much that she’d seen something—that was happening increasingly often, as of late—but it was her question that had him tripping over his own tongue. “I don’t—that doesn’t matter,” he growled. He didn’t rightly know, since he’d been forced to live alone as little more than a sapling and had never met another of his kind. “We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you…. and how you really ought to find a better hobby.”

Quirking her eyebrow, Luce heard the misstep in his voice, the falter in his words. “It doesn’t matter?” She repeated, incredulity mixing with venom in her voice. “Oh, so you can dish it but you can’t take it? You can go around, accusing me of being unnatural, calling me out for ‘playing with magic’ but when it gets turned back around, suddenly it doesn’t matter?” She said, nodding. “Well, now, we’re talking about you. Who made you holier than thou? Who crowned you king of the forest? You don’t know anything about what I am, who I am, or what I’m capable of. Because, if you think that me coming out into the forest and setting fire in the middle of thunderstorms is a hobby, you don’t know me as well as you think. Fucking creepy forest stalker or not, you don’t know me.” She shot back. 

Frustration was coming off Solomon in waves, brought to life by both his anger with the individual yelling at him, and his own personal battle of not knowing who—or what—he truly was. He always told himself it didn’t matter, but in situations like these, it certainly seemed to. She was right, he didn’t know anything about her, and he’d never allowed himself the patience to try and change that before judging someone. Perhaps… perhaps he ought to give it a try. New millennium, new Solomon, and all that. Waiting until she was done, his gaze averted for the first time since their heated exchange had begun, Solomon interjected with a wavering voice. “If I had a word for it, I’d tell you,” he muttered, the defeat in his tone barely masked by indignation. “All I do know is that I’ve been alive for almost a thousand years, and I’ve always felt compelled to protect my home and my innocent neighbors from people like you.” On the last, accusatory word, Solomon flicked his dark eyes back toward the woman, brow furrowed. “So tell me… why shouldn’t I see you as a threat to the forest? Why should I give you a pass, when I’ve cut others down for smaller offenses?”

“Sounds to me like you should figure your shit out before you go around throwing words like “unnatural” around.” Luce fired back, not giving up any ground in this verbal sparring match. She really didn’t give a fuck who-- or what-- this guy was. She was tired of being used as someone else’s punching bag. She was tired of being the who had to make amends, who had to apologize, who was wrong. “A thousand years? Well, it seems you’re hardly a judge of character if you’ve been around this fucking long and can’t tell the difference between a pyromaniac and someone who gives a shit about this place. Because, this is probably really fucking surprising to you, but I do. I actually do give a shit about this town and this forest and the people who live here. I know these woods, I know the forest, I know the animals who call it home. Maybe not the way you do, but I know them.” She held up her hands, an innocent gesture. “I owned my shit. You saw me plant those seeds, you said it yourself. I destroyed that part of the forest the night that--” She caught herself. This person, creature, whatever. He didn’t need to know why she’d burnt the forest down. Why it had been grief and fear and sorrow that had turned her flames blue, that kept her flames blue.  “It happened. And that wasn’t right. So, I went back to make it better as well as I could.”

She was a persistent one, and Solomon could feel that it was wearing him down. This conversation was exhausting, and not doing much more than running in circles, so he caved. Deflating, the fae brought a hand to his forehead and let himself slump against the tree behind him. “Fine. Fine,” he muttered in annoyance, shaking his head. “While I can’t imagine that something would ever drive me to hurt this place like you did, I suppose I’ll have to just accept that fact and deal with it. Just… try to refrain from doing it again in the future, alright? It really does take a lot out of me, trying to fix messes like that.” Heaving a sigh, Solomon waved his free hand in the direction she’d been running when they first encountered one another without looking up at her. “Get out of here, go finish your run. You’ve given me a headache.”

“Yeah, you can’t. And, honestly? I hope you never do.” Luce said, remembering the grief that had overwhelmed her that night, when she’d thrown herself into the forest and done her best to run away from the reality of her situation. She’d started running that day and she’d never really stopped, not even now, when it was over. But, it wasn’t over, was it? Shaking her head, Luce focused her attention on the man who was waving her away. While she was glad that this guy was at least giving up with the whole “protector of the forest” act, she wasn’t a fan of the fact that he was telling her what she should do. Hands still up in the air, she flipped him off, the triangle tattoos on her knuckles a nice added touch of irony. “I’m not in the business of making promises to people. I do what I want. But,” She lowered her hands, and offered a single nod, “noted.” With that, Luce turned and continued on her run, not caring what he thought of their encounter. As far as she was concerned, all this meant was she’d discovered a new self-righteous neighbor.

[domesticated-feral]

Steo Week 2020, Day 2

Title: Why didn't you go M.I.A this time too? (Because, you are Stiles Stilinski)

Prompt: Little League Rating: General Audiences Warnings: There be some beef between Stiles and Theo at the start. WC: 3834

You can also read it on my AO3

Summary:

“Look, I usually go M.I.A on these types of things, so this is my first time,” Theo admitted. “Why didn’t you go M.I.A this time too?” Stiles asked. “Because you are Stiles Stilinski,” Theo said. Stiles smiles and pats Theo’s back, “I don't know what that's supposed to mean, but relax, it’s going to be alright,” he said. 

~

“Also, before you go off, I have the list for the pairings for this year’s science fair, usually you would pick your partner, but due to some of you picking the same people every year-” the teacher announced, eyeing the class- “I made the pairings this year.”

“Man, this sucks,” Scott whispered to Stiles.

“Very,” Stiles agreed.

The teacher started reading out the paired names and Stiles anxiously waited for his name to be called.

“Scott, you’ll be paired with Jackson,” the teacher said.

“Jackson?!” Scott exclaimed as he looked at Jackson, who also had the same expression on his face as well.

“Last but not least, Stiles and Theodore,” the teacher said, folding the list.

“Theo?! Mrs. Garcia, are you sure there isn’t a mistake there?” Stiles yells out.

“Come and look for yourself, Stiles,” she invited Stiles to take a look at the list.

Stiles quickly bounces up to the front of the class and looks at the list that was on her desk. It was without a doubt, ‘Mieczyslaw and Theodore’.

Stiles turns around and stares at Theo who had his usual glare plastered over his disgusting face. He scowls at the boy and goes back to his seat. The bell rings signaling that it was recess. Stiles slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks out of the classroom with Scott following.

“We both are officially dead, you got Jackson, an entitled rich kid and I got Theo, creepy dark kid,” Stiles said.

“Calm down, it’s just a stupid science fair, maybe next year they’d let us choose again,” Scott said opening his locker.

Stiles opens his locker and stuffs his science book inside and slams it shut. He leans against the locker and audibly sighs.

‘It’s just a stupid science fair, Stiles, why are you so worked up?’ he asks himself.

Scott closes his locker and the two sixth graders head off to their usual hangout spot with their friends on the side of the school.

“Who do you think Issac got? And Erica? And Boyd? And Allison?” Stiles asked.

“I dunno,” Scott said.

They walked outside the school to see everyone in their cliques talking about the science fair, the jocks were hanging out near the metal fence at the bleachers and Jackson was eyeing Scott and Stiles as they walked to the side of the school where Issac and Boyd were waiting.

“Hey, where’s Erica?” Scott asks.

“She went to return her book back to the library, she’ll be here in a sec,” Boyd said.

“Allison?” Stiles asked Issac.

“On her way probably,” he replied.

“Hey, sorry I’m late, I got assigned working as a librarian’s assistant before recess,” Allison said.

Erica comes running, completing the gang.

“So, who’d you get for the science fair?” Issac asks.

“Jackson Whittemore,” Scott said.

Everyone grimaced at the sound of the name.

“Well, I got Lydia Martin,” Erica said.

“Greenberg,” Boyd gruffed.

“I got Danny,” Issac said.

“I was paired with Kira,” Allison said.

“Who’d you get Stiles?” Issac asked.

“Theodore Raeken, out of all people, the one I hate the most!” Stiles said.

“You, Scott, and Boyd had the worst luck, I guess,” Erica said, “Lydia is smart and rich, so first place, baby!”

“Well, Greenberg isn’t that bad considering he brings an A in science?” Allison said, trying to comfort Boyd, “and Jackson won’t be that bad, I hope? So is Theo, yeah, he’s creepy, but what’s the worst that could happen?”

~

It was the last period of the day, Science. Stiles wasn’t that interested in Biology so he mindlessly doodled in the margins of his book when he was unjustly interrupted.

“Hey, Stiles,” Theo said, from behind Stiles.

“What is it, Theodore?” Stiles said turning around.

“Uh, I wanted to ask you what house are we doing the project in?” Theo asks.

Stiles thinks about it for a second and he decides his house would be better because he was not stepping foot inside Theo Raeken’s house.

“Mine,” Stiles answered.

“Ok, cool, when should I come over?” Theo asked again.

‘Never,’ Stiles wanted to say but he stopped himself before he could, “Uhh, how about at 4?”

“Stiles, anything you would like to share with the class?” Mr. Oliver asked.

“Nothing, Mr. Oliver,” Stiles squeaks as he turns around.

“Very well then,” he said before continuing his lecture.

Stiles goes back to doodling on his notebook, that was until he was handed his test back. He got an A, he turns around to try and sneak a peek at Theo’s grade, but Theo already stuffed it in his bag.

“Hmm, What was yours?” Stiles asks, turning around.

“Do you really need to know?” He asks.

“You’re my science fair partner, therefore, yes,” Stiles said.

“D, I hate science,” Theo mutters as he slings his bag on his shoulder.

Stiles puts his test in his bag and walks out with the rest of the class, he walks up to his locker where Scott and Issac were waiting.

“So, Allison told me that she saw you and Theo talking in Biology,” Scott said as they walked down the hallways to the bike racks.

“Yeah, he’s coming over at 4 today, I don’t even know what we will do for our project?!” Stiles said.

“Well, we got one week until the science fair, so I guess you can get to know him a little bit more today?” Issac chimed in.

“Get to know him?! I don’t want to ‘get to know him’!” Stiles said, taking Scott and Issac back by his aggressive tone.

“Whoa, calm down, Stiles, what happened between you and Theo?” Scott asked.

“Do you really want to know Scottie? Do you?” Stiles said as they stopped in front of their bikes.

Scott nods while Issac shakes his head.

“Remember when I had to move to my nana’s house for three months? I never told you why, but it was because my dad got shot and had to be in the ICU for three months. Guess who pulled the trigger, Theodore Raeken’s father,” Stiles said.

“But, isn’t he in jail?” Issac asked.

“Yeah, and anytime I look at Theo, I see that man who shot my dad, I can’t trust him,” Stiles said as he put on his bike helmet.

“What if Theo is different from his dad?” Scott asked, “his dad might be a criminal, but Theo might not be a criminal.”

“I guess we’ll find out today,” Stiles said as he unlocked his bike lock.

They rode their bikes to their neighborhood, Scott and Issac dropped Stiles off before making their way down the cul-de-sac to their house.

~

Stiles anxiously paced around his house, locking the knife drawer with duct tape and making sure any dangerous pointy objects are out of sight. He even went out of his way and heaved the pointy sculpture from its place above the fireplace and into the basement. It was heavy and it was surely a miracle that Stiles didn’t drop it.

The clock chimes at 4 o’clock and he leans on the window, looking out onto his front yard. He sees Theo walk up and make his way to the porch. Stiles quickly runs and pulls the door open before Theo has a chance to knock.

“Hi,” Theo said, stuffing his hand back in his black jacket.

“Uh, hey, again,” Stiles said.

They both awkwardly stand, before Stiles opens the door further, inviting Theo inside.

“Your house is pretty nice,” Theo said as he looked around.

Stiles nods, “I try to keep it tidy,” he mutters.

Stiles and Theo, being not the warmest of acquaintances to each other, were awkwardly standing -in awkward silence- in the middle of the Stilinski living room. Stiles opens his mouth to say something but he quickly closes it as whatever he was going to say, would sound insensitive.

“Look, I know you’re probably mad at me because of my dad,” Theo began to say, “he did pretty horrible things and I hated him when I found out the truth.”

“He did horrible things, he shot my dad nearly killing him!” Stiles snapped, “I won’t be surprised if you brought a gun to shoot me too!”

Stiles couldn’t stand in front of the boy anymore, he quickly stormed off to his room and slammed the door shut. He throws his bag onto the bed and it bounces off onto the floor. Stiles lets out a yell of exasperation into his pillow and he hears Theo knocking on the door.

“I- I’m sorry for the pain he had caused, but I swear, I don’t want to end up like him. Never. I am his son, but I don’t want to be known for the things he did,” Theo said, from the other side of the door.

Stiles felt as if he saw a new light, he felt a sense of clarity as he realized a very big thing. All Theo wanted was to be seen differently. He didn’t want to be known as the son of the Beacon Hills Bank Robber. Theo was a different being from his father. He was not necessarily bad, neither did it feel like he wanted to, nor he was.

“I- I’m sorry, Theo. I didn’t mean to say that,” Stiles said, apologizing for his remark.

“It’s alright, Stiles, I’ve gotten used to it, it wasn’t like you are the only one to say that,” Theo said, “Can we focus on the science project now?”

“Yeah, I g-guess,” Stiles said as he opened the door to Theo-.

Stiles felt terribly bad, so as Theo settled down in his bedroom, he went out and fetched his jar of home-baked cookies from the kitchen.

“Want a slightly-burned chocolate chip cookie that I made with my dad?” Stiles asked.

“These don’t look slightly burned, they are burned through and through,” Theo said as he took one out of the jar.

“I mean, it doesn’t taste that bad,” Stiles said, biting a big bite of one cookie.

The bitter taste of charred chocolate chip cookie fills his mouth, setting off the gag-reflex as the dry cookie hits the back of his throat. He dashes towards his bathroom, dropping the cookie jar on the carpeted floor.

He spits the crumbs out, as he rinses his mouth with water.

Theo walks up to the bathroom, stopping just under the door frame, “it doesn’t taste that bad, huh?” he said, snickering.

“Shut up, Raeken,” Stiles said as he put toothpaste on his toothbrush.

Stiles brushes his teeth, making sure to brush his tongue too, the dry ashy cookie taste felt like it was stuck in his mouth. He washes his mouth, swishing the water around before spitting it out.

Stiles picks up the cookie jar and puts it back on the shelf in the kitchen, grimacing as he still tasted the bitter taste of death in his mouth.

“Okay, science fair, I have no idea what to do for it, yet,” Stiles said as he sat down on his bed.

“I hate science and I failed science,” Theo said.

“Kiss goodbye the first place, second place, third place, and honorary mention, then,” Stiles said as he took one of his many science books out of the shelf.

“But, I didn’t say that I don’t have an idea for the science fair project,” Theo added.

Stiles shot his head up from the book, “and what is the idea for the science fair?” he asked.

“You can see the amount of iron in your cereal using a magnet, I learned that by accident once,” Theo said.

“How did you find iron in your cereal, do you eat nails for breakfast?” Stiles asked.

“Using a Neodymium Magnet and soaking cereal with water in a Ziploc bag,” Theo said.

“I thought you hated science,” Stiles asked.

“I saw it on T.V and got interested enough to try it out, alright?” Theo said.

“How do we turn this into a science fair project, then?” Stiles questioned.

“Test other cereal brands for iron?” Theo said, sounding unsure about it.

“Fine, I guess, that could work,” Stiles said, “do you still have that Neodymium magnet?”

“Yeah, that thing cost me 50 bucks, I’m not throwing it away after a morning’s use,” Theo said.

“Bring it over tomorrow, and if you got any extra Ziploc bags, bring ‘em too,” Stiles said to Theo.

“How about the cereals?” Theo asked.

“I have 3 different cereal brands in this house, if you have anything that’s different, bring it,” Stiles said, forgetting to say the 3 cereal brands.

“And what are the cereal brands you got?” Theo asks.

“Frosted Flakes, Froot Loops and Kellogg’s cornflakes,” Stiles listed the three.

“I’ll see if I have anything different at my home,” Theo said, “off-topic but why do you have 3 different cereal brands in your kitchen?”

“I have different preferences on different days, Theodore,” Stiles said.

~

The next day, Theo brings his magnet and a small box of Ziploc bags along with a box of Lucky Charms cereal.

“So, we have to do this and make a visual presentation, so I had my dad buy a bristol board to use as our presentation board,” Stiles said, as he showed Theo the big grey colored paper on the dining table.

“Ok, I also forgot to mention that we need warm water, not cold,” Theo said.

“Lucky for you, I know how to operate a simple electric kettle,” Stiles said as he filled the kettle with water.

They let it cook while Stiles brings out markers and pens from his room to the kitchen. Theo and he weren’t on the best of terms yet, but it was better than it was.

~

In the 4 days leading up to the science fair, Stiles and Theo had done the science experiments, finished up the visual presentation board, and had played Mario Kart 64 twice. Now, it was time to show their science project to the school.

Stiles met with Theo in the hall and both boys felt the energetic vibes they and the whole school were emitting during the hours before the science fair opened.

They go to their place and set their project up. Stiles rehearsed his lines, making sure there were no up-ticks or stutters during his speech on the project. Stiles’ friends came over to see what he had done, and they were pretty welcoming towards Theo. Maybe he could join their group. Or pack as Scott and Stiles liked to call it.

Soon enough, the science fair opened and the judges began making their rounds.

“Are you ready?” Theo asked, with a look on his face that Stiles had never seen before.

“Sorta, are you?” Stiles said.

“Sorta, I guess,” Theo said, scratching the back of his neck.

“You are completely nervous,” Stiles said.

“Look, I usually go M.I.A on these types of things, so this is my first time,” Theo admitted.

“Why didn’t you go M.I.A this time too?” Stiles asked.

“Because you are Stiles Stilinski,” Theo said.

Stiles smiles and pats Theo’s back, “I don't know what that's supposed to mean, but relax, it’s going to be alright,” he said.

~

“And the winner of this year’s science fair at Beacon Hills Middle School is,” the principal announces, Stiles anxiously awaits, chewing at his fingernails ever since they did the judges’ evaluation, “Mieczyslaw Stilinski and Theodore Raeken!”

"Oh, My GOD!" Stiles exclaims as he realizes they won and he quickly grabs Theo’s hand and marches up to the stage. The principal hands them a trophy that can be split in two so that both of them can take it home. Stiles looks at the crowd and sees his friends and his dad clap proudly at them winning.

The event ends with a small ending speech by the principal and Stiles scrambles to find his friends.

“Wanna head to Benny’s Creamery?” Scott asks.

“C-could I come?” Theo asks.

“Of course!” Stiles said, slinging his hand over Theo’s shoulders.

They all head over to Benny’s Creamery with Stiles’ dad carpooling them all to the creamery.

Issac was in the passenger seat along with Scott since both boys can fit in the seat, Boyd sat behind the passenger seat with Allison and Erica squished in the middle and Stiles was sitting behind his dad and Theo was awkwardly half on Stiles’ lap and half on the seat.

The squishing did provoke some unsaid feelings between Stiles and Theo, especially Theo, his cheeks were dusted with pink and red.

“Imitating a Solanum Lycopersicum?” Stiles whispered to Theo.

“A what?” Theo asked.

“Tomato, dummy, your face is red like a tomato,” Stiles said.

“Oh, uh, maybe,” Theo said.

His dad pulls up and parks in the small parking area of the store and everyone scrambles out. Stiles notices Theo staying quite far away from everyone as they wait to order. He holds Theo’s hand and pulls him closer.

“And what would you two boys like?” The woman asked Stiles and Theo.

“Cookies and cream with chocolate chips and whip cream in a cone, please,” Stiles said, his usual order.

“Uh, the same?” Theo said.

“Dude, you like cookies and cream with chocolate chips and whip cream too?” Stiles asked.

“Actually, I’ve never been here, so I didn’t know what else to order,” Theo said.

“Well then, trust me, it’s the best!” Stiles said, excitedly.

The lady hands Stiles and Theo two cones and they head over to sit with the rest. The sun had already set, leaving a slight tinge of purple and blue in the sky. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but it was dark enough for street lights to turn on and illuminate the road.

Stiles’ dad takes pictures of them as they all huddle together with their ice creams. With and without the picture, it was a day that everyone would cherish and remember. Especially Stiles and Theo.

~

Some time had passed, exactly 1 week and 4 days, as Stiles had counted. Theo is part of the pack, meeting up with the rest at recess now, and every time Stiles sees Theo, he feels weird. Weird as in his feet get restless and cold, his stomach squirms and his voice gets high-pitched than normal.

“What’s up with you these days?” Scott asks, distracting Stiles from his train-of-thought.

“What do you mean what’s up with me? I’m fine, completely fine,” Stiles said.

“What he’s trying to say is, what’s with the jitteriness especially around Theo?” Issac asked.

“What jitteriness?” Stiles asked.

“Hey, should I come to your house to watch Star Wars, tomorrow?” Theo said as he walked up to them.

Stiles stumbles over his words, and his brain frantically goes to panic mode, ‘Say hey, no, say good day, or hey,’ Stiles instructed himself.

“Gay,” Stiles blurts out.

Issac, Scott, and Theo stare at Stiles with the faces of absolute confusion, and Stiles gasps as his brain processes what he just said.

“Oh, uh, no, that’s not what I meant, I meant hey, yes, sure, star wars, tomorrow, si,” Stiles sputtered.

“I think Stiles needs to go to the bathroom right now,” Scott said.

“I do?” Stiles said.

Issac nods and Scott darts his eyes at Theo for a slight second.

“Oh yeah, I do,” Stiles said, turning around to go to the bathroom.

Scott holds his friend by the shoulder and walks him out of the school building. They stop in front of their bikes.

“Stiles, you are a mess,” Issac said.

“Thank you, Issac, but I already looked in a mirror today,” Stiles retorted as he put his helmet on.

“You’re welcome,” Issac said, his lips curling in a mischievous smile.

They ride to their houses and Issac heads home while Scott stops at Stiles’ house. Stiles gets off his bike and so does Scott.

“Do you want to tell me what’s up with you and Theo?” Scott asked.

“That, I don’t know either, Scott, I hated him then, but now, every single time I see him, I get this weird feeling-” Stiles confessed.

“Like you have a crush?” Scott interrupted Stiles.

“Why would I have a crush on Theo? I don’t like boys,” Stiles said.

“I was just suggesting, it’s alright if you do, or don’t, but from my eyes, Stiles, you look like you have a crush on Theo,” 

“I mean, it is something, I’m just not sure,” Stiles said.

“You’ll figure it out, soon enough, and oh god,” Scott said, suddenly realizing something.

“What?” Stiles asks.

“I forgot to hide my Reese's peanut butter cup stash from this morning and it’s on my bed, Issac’s going to eat it all!” Scott said, jumping on his bike and riding away.

“You’re dead meat, Issac McCall!” Stiles heard Scott yell as he rode his bike down to their house.

Stiles ponders on what his relationship with Theo was, as he tows his bike into the garage. Were they just friends, and why was he feeling this weird way towards Theo?

‘This is another problem for another day, I got homework to do,’ Stiles thought, brushing the subject off.

~

The last two months of seventh grade came and went, for summer this year, Stiles and his dad went on a week’s trip to the grand canyon and it was amazing. Stiles had so much to tell everyone when eighth grade started, and as for the feelings towards Theo, they grew larger.

Stiles did try to explore himself more, trying to figure out his feelings for Theo, but he never found a conclusion that was concrete enough for Stiles.

On the eve of Christmas, the pack was all in the McCall household, for a sleepover. It was quite early in the night and they just had dinner, courtesy of Mama McCall, and they all sat in a circle to play truth-or-dare.

“So, Stiles, truth, or dare?” Erica asked.

“Truth,” Stiles picks.

“Out of everyone in this circle, would you choose to go on a date with?” Erica asked.

He thought about the question for a second, was he really going to say Theo, or should he lie and say someone else’s name? He did not know.

“I’m going to have to choose, Theo,” Stiles answered.

They all looked at Theo who was nervously chuckling as his face grew red.

“Theo, huh, would you say the same?” Erica asks, stifling a laugh.

“It’s not even my turn, yet,” Theo protested.

“Answer or you will get the sombrero of shame,” Erica said.

“Yeah, I guess I would say the same,” Theo said.

“Oooh, romance,” Erica sang, “cue the sexy saxophone noises!”

They all laughed and the night continued on, with more truth-or-dare, then they started binging on Christmas movies as everyone fell asleep.

“Stiles,” Theo whispered to the boy, who was still awake.

“What?” Stiles asked.

“Did you mean it?” Theo asked.

“Yeah, believe it or not, I did, did you?” Stiles said, turning his head to face Theo’s gaze.

Theo nods, “I did too,” he said.

~

[ificanthaveu]

Agreed || Shawn Mendes

Description: Shawn wanders into your store one day with his daughter, and you help them find the perfect sweater and even teach them a thing or two. 

A/N: single dad!Shawn and sales associate!reader, do you honestly need anything else? Anyway, this is super cute and I love it and it all flowed out of me and could it get a part 2??? it just might

Word Count: 2.6k

Monday nights were never meant to be easy, but this Monday felt that way. It felt a little too easy. Like you were definitely missing something. 

The kid’s store you managed in the mall was particularly quiet tonight. It seemed like every kid and parent must have just not felt like shopping tonight. So, there you stood behind the counter, reading and rereading what you could possibly do to pass the next two hours and thirty-three minutes. 

If you weren’t going to be doing anything, you figured you could try to get ahead with the marketing change that was supposed to be saved until after close. But would anyone really care if you took down the “25% off denim” signs early? And changed them with the advertisement of some girls in school? You really didn’t think it mattered at this point.

You walked towards the back door and propped it open, so you could keep an eye out in the store while looking for the new signs. Since they were window signs, they were much taller than you were. Preferably you’d have someone to help you, but your store was already short-staffed. Adding the fact that it was a Monday, it’d be just you and these signs tonight. 

You struggled to pull out the two large signs. You definitely knocked over a few things, but that was something you’d take care of later. You huffed as you dragged them behind you towards the registers where you could add on the protective edges and the hooks you pulled aside earlier.

Right as you started to slide on one of the protectors, in walked in a tall man with who you assumed was his daughter. She had to be since she was a spitting image of him. She skipped in between displays in her little rainbow rain boots and her pink dress with her dark brown curls bouncing. Her dad simply followed her wherever her heart took her. 

You finished sliding on one of the sides before setting it down to go greet them. 

“Hey, guys, what brings you in today?” You said with a big smile as you came up to them near the middle of the store. The dad smiled at you before looking back towards his daughter.

“This is actually our first time in here,” he said in a soft voice as you nodded your head. The little girl ran back up to you and her dad as she tugged on his sleeve.

“My daddy said he’d let me get something!” She yelled. Her dad pressed a finger to his lips before she muttered, “sorry.”

“Well, what are you looking for? Do you want clothes or jewelry or a stuffed animal?” You asked as you kneeled down to her height. She rocked back and forth on her feet as she thought about your question. 

“I think I want a sweater,” she said very matter-of-factly. 

You nodded your head and stood up to go show them the table of sweaters you had off to the side. It was filled with an array of knits and colors and cuts to please every child. She skipped behind you as her dad followed closely behind. 

“What color do you want?” You asked. She peeked her head over the table, and you watched her eyes scan over everything carefully before pointing at one near the back. 

“The purple one!” She said. 

“And what cut do you think she’s going to prefer?” you asked her dad. He gave you a confused look. 

“Regular?” He said carefully. 

“Well, we have the loser fitting ones like this,” you said as you held one up. “Then we have a tighter, longer fitting one,” you said as you reached over and held up that one. “And then we have one that’s kind of in-between, but cropped a little.”

He looked at each sweater carefully, obviously not clearly understanding what the difference was. His daughter patiently waited next to him. He sighed before he scooped her up, so she could see better. 

“Which one are you thinking, Char?” He asked her. 

“All of them!” She yelled. 

He sighed as he set her down. “Why don’t we try them on?” He asked her. She nodded her head as she tried to reach for the sweaters. Her dad scooped them up for her, and you walked them towards the fitting room to the side. 

The little girl, Charlotte, you assumed, skipped into it, and when her dad tried to follow her in to help her, she held up her hand and slammed the door in his face. He stood back with a look of shock on his face as you let out a laugh. 

“She’s got an attitude. I like her,” you say quietly so just her dad could hear you. 

“Yeah, it’s fun for you when you just have to see her for less than an hour and then she’s out of your hair, I have to live with her,” he said as he rubbed his eyes. 

“At least she’s cute,” you added.

He forced out a laugh, “Yeah, at least she’s cute.”

Charlotte walked out in the first sweater, the loser fitting one. She struck a pose in front of the two of you as you giggled at her. She really was something else. 

“How do you like it?” You asked her. 

“I like it,” she said simply.

“Does it feel ok? Is it itchy?” Her dad chimed in. She thought for a moment before she nodded her head.

“It’s a little itchy,” she said. 

“Do you have those shirts that…um, go underneath?” He asked you. 

“A cami?” 

“Yes, yeah, a cami,” he said as he nodded along. 

You nodded your head before walking towards the other side of the store and grabbing a nude one, a white one and a purple one. 

“Try wearing that underneath the sweater, honey,” you said as you handed her the tank tops. 

She skipped back into the room as you leaned against the wall behind you.

“You’re really good at this,” her dad said.

“Well, it is my job, so I kind of have to be, but thanks anyway,” you said with a smile. 

“I’m Shawn by the way,” he said quickly. “I just felt weird because I know your name because of the name tag, but you didn’t know mine and you’ve been helping so much. I honestly panic any time I have to do any of this,” he rambled on. 

You nodded along to everything he said before he finally stopped talking.

“You good?” You questioned. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he said. 

“No, you’re ok, don’t worry about it,” you said back.

“My sister is usually the one to take her to do the shopping, but Aunt Liyah lives back in Canada, so it’s all on me when we’re back in LA,” he explained. 

Before you could say anything else, Charlotte slammed the door open and exclaimed, “This feels much better!” as she did a spin in front of you. 

“Well, aren’t you the cutest darn thing I have ever seen,” Shawn said as he kneeled down to look at the sweater. He pulled the neck up a little bit and had her lift her hands up to see if it was too short. 

“Send a picture to Auntie!” She exclaimed as she played with the sleeves. Shawn nodded his head before stepping back, taking a picture and sending it off to his sister. 

“Try on the other ones,” he said as he lightly pushed her back into the fitting room. 

“She looks just like you,” you said as she shut the door. 

“How unfortunate,” he said softly.

“That’s a compliment,” you whispered. He rolled his eyes at you before leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he paused. “She’s got her mom’s eyes though,” he said softly. “Not that it matters,” he said in a less-than-satisfied voice under his breath.  You probably weren’t supposed to hear that. 

“Is it just you and her?” You asked carefully, not wanting to open anything you shouldn’t. 

“Yep, since the day she was born,” he said as he looked over at you. 

“You’re doing a remarkable job,” you said back to him.

“Thanks. My family’s been a big help. My friends also love her to bits, so it’s not all me,” he rationalized.

“Still, raising a little girl on your own isn’t easy. I’ve seen every type of parent come into this store, and I can tell you, honestly, that you’ve got this under control,” you said. “You just gotta trust yourself a little more.”

Charlotte popped out in the next sweater before he could respond. You both looked at her as she struck another pose. 

“I think I like the other one better,” Shawn said. 

“Agreed,” you added. 

She nodded her head as she looked in the mirror. 

“Agreed,” she said before marching back in.

Shawn shook his head and placed it in his hands.

“You just taught her a new phrase. She’s not going to stop saying that for weeks,” he groaned. 

You laughed at him before saying, “I am so sorry. You never say the word ‘agree?’”

“Not like you just said it. Like, yeah, I say I agree with someone, but I don’t really say ‘agreed,’ but now it’s all she’s going to say. I promise you that most of the time it won’t make sense either,” he said as he looked over at you with a “disappointed dad” look. “You owe me one for the weeks of torture my ears are about to endure.”

“I can get you 25% of the sweater, but I’m afraid that’s it,” you paused for a minute. “Oh, and if you ever need a night off from her, I’ll gladly babysit. She’s phenomenal.” 

“I think I’ll pass on the discount, but I might have to hold you to the night of babysitting,” he responded with a smile on his face.

“And, I’m here every Monday night, and it’s usually this dead. So if you ever need help with the shopping thing again, I’m always here to help,” you added. 

“Thank you, it means more than you’ll ever know. I get this is your job, but still, thanks,” he said. 

Charlotte popped out of the dressing room again with the last sweater on. It was cropped so the purple cami was sticking out of the bottom. 

“I still like the first one the best,” Shawn said with a concentrated look on his face. You simply nodded your head in agreement as Charlotte looked in the mirror before turning back to the two of you.

“Agreed,” she said before marching back into the room. Before you could say anything, Shawn looked at you with that same dad look he gave you earlier. He was good at it.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “You’re good at that look. I honestly feel super guilty right now.

“Good, then you’ll learn from your mistakes, and you won’t repeat them,” he said in probably the perfect dad voice.

“Alright, you can stop. That’s terrifying.”

He let out a laugh as he leaned his head against the wall again, briefly glancing down at his phone.

“What time do you close?” He asked, bringing you back into the reality that you were a sales associate helping a customer. 

“9:00,” you said before glancing down at your watch. “You’ve still got like an hour and forty-five minutes, so no rush.”

He nodded his head before he looked behind you at the signs by the register. 

“I really don’t want to keep you from that, though,” he said as he gestured towards the signs. You shrugged your shoulders.

“I wasn’t supposed to do them until after close, anyway. I should probably wait until then because I know they’re going to kick my butt,” you said as you looked back at him. 

“Can I help maybe?” He offered. You sighed and shook your head.

“As much as I would love to say yes, that’s an incredibly huge liability,” you explained as you scrunched up your face and he nodded his head. 

“Yeah, I guess you don’t want me suing your store if I fall,” he said. “I definitely understand that.”

Charlotte came out of the dressing room again with the three sweaters and camis in her hands. 

“Remember which one you want?” Shawn asked her. 

She nodded her head and held out the clothing to him, along with the purple and white camis. You gladly scooped the rest of the sweaters out of her hands and brought them back with you to the register to put away later. 

“Anything else I can help you guys look for today?” You asked them as they walked up to the register. 

Shawn looked down at Charlotte as she let out a yawn and rubbed her eyes. 

“I think we’re good for tonight,” he whispered to you. You began to ring up his few items before placing them in the bag.

“Do you want to sign up for the rewards program?” You asked him as the screen prompted. 

He sighed, “Yeah, I probably should.”

“The pinpad will ask you all the questions,” you said as you tapped your finger on the top of it. Shawn tapped all the necessary buttons and typed in his information. 

You recited all the information back to him for clarification, and he nodded along to everything you said. 

“And receipt with you or in the bag,” you said as you propped the bag up. 

“Just throw it in the bag,” he said as he looked down at Charlotte who was leaning against him and who was also clearly tired. “I guess it’s getting near bedtime,” he said quietly as you handed him the bag. 

“Agreed,” you said at the same volume as he rolled his eyes at you. 

“Yep, I’m sick of you. Time to go,” he said jokingly as he held Charlotte’s hand. 

You walked them out the door before Shawn stopped and turned to you. 

“About that babysitting offer…” he trailed off. 

“Yeah?”

“I guess I’m going to need your number, you know, just in case I need a babysitter,” he said without really looking at you. “Or, also, I mean, if you’d ever want to catch a movie or something. I can find a different babysitter, and we can just do something, but if not, that’s also totally fine,” he rambled on. 

You bit your lip, trying to contain your smile, as you could feel your face burning up. 

“I thought you were sick of me,” you said teasingly. He shook his head before finally looking at you.

“You’re so annoying,” he said through a laugh.

“It’s in my job description,” you retaliated.

“Really? Well, then I’d like to speak to the manager about that.”

“That’s cute. I am the manager.”

Shawn had to give up after that one as he shook his head and glanced down at Charlotte, oblivious to whatever was going on. 

“I would love to go out sometime,” you finally said.

“Maybe I’ve retracted that offer,” he responded. 

“Well, then I’d love to babysit sometime.”

“Well, I am still going to need your number, you know, for babysitting,” he responded as he held out his phone for you.

You quickly typed in your name and number before handing it back to him. 

“See you this weekend maybe?” He said as he began to walk out of the store, still gripping on to Charlotte’s hand with one hand and the bright pink bag with the other. “I’m thinking dinner and a movie,” he said as he backed out. “For you and Charlotte of course.”

“Oh, yeah, sounds perfect. Send me the day and time and I’ll be there, for Charlotte,” you said as you crossed your arms. 

“See you later, [Y/N],” he said before waving and turning around. 

“Are we going to come back?” you heard Charlotte ask her father. 

“Yeah, I think we will,” Shawn replied. 

“Good, I like this store,” she responded before stifling another yawn.

“Agreed.”

Reblog! Comment! Send me an ask! A message! Y’all know I  T H R I V E  off praise and attention, so hit me up with that good shit.

[yoursummerfrost]

Ask meme time! Pick three fics you have written, post a favorite section of each and explain why it is your favorite. Then, pass it on!

How could you ask me to choose between my children?! :P This is fun, though, thank you! I’ll pick three fics that have gotten less traffic compared to my others :) Going under the cut ‘cause it’s kinda long!

from my bones, wrapped around you:

"Mazikeen," Lucifer calls. Maze bites the inside of her cheek and walks back out into the living room. Everyone is sitting on the couch except for Eve—who's hovering near the piano where Maze left her—and Lucifer, at the bar. "At least let me pour you a drink, before you go?"

Maze swallows, looking at all of them. Linda is smiling at her. Trixie's in Chloe's lap, holding a glass of chocolate milk.

Lucifer gestures with her favorite bottle of scotch.

"Okay," she says, and slides onto a stool to watch him pour.

There's quiet conversation behind them; someone talks about calling Ella and Dan. Lucifer slides the glass into her hand and she can't think of drinking it.

"I worried about you, while I was gone," he tells her. "I hoped you were well."

She swirls the scotch around, watching how it reflects the light. "It doesn't really matter how I was."

"I've no idea what you mean," he says.

"I'm supposed to live in the moment, right?" Maze finally takes a drink, rolling the sting around on her tongue. "Benefits of being soulless."

"Mazikeen," Lucifer says, and his voice cracks with something she has to chase down her throat. "I've never lost sleep over your soul. But I care very much about your heart."

Maze's second thought is of the balcony. How she could jump off of it, and he'd use those wings that once upon a time he made her hack off to catch her. Her third thought is about glass, and how it breaks.

Her first thought is, You're home.

Maze chugs the rest of her scotch and tells him, "Make the next one a double."

It’s hard to pick one snippet from this fic, because there were so many little moments where I wanted this reflection of soullessness to weave itself together. Ultimately I went with the culmination, which is this interaction between Maze and Lucifer. These are two people who went from being all each other had to drifting apart while they tried to grow. And now, trying to navigate this horrible mess of lingering loyalty and growing resentment, Lucifer reaches out with this peace offering--pouring her a drink, which is a refrain from the show.

Throughout the fic, Maze has been grappling with her lack of a soul. Rivers told her that she had one, Amenadiel suggested she could grow one. Eve is fixated on the freedom that being soulless brings. And Lucifer, who stood with her in Hell and abandoned her on Earth, says this: it doesn’t matter how you were created, or what you were born with. I see who you’ve become. 

from truth (like blood under fingernails):

"You didn't fool me," Dan argues. "I know you."

"No," Lucifer says, "you don't."

Dan takes another step forward. "I do."

"I'm the Devil!"

Dan throws his hands up and snaps, "I know," and Lucifer snarls, "Do you?" and his face is gone, charred and blistering like it's been peeled off under a blowtorch, and—

Dan thinks, Did you do that, too? and—

He understands, suddenly. The mutilated wings he can't touch and the nauseous fear that curls up and hisses in his own belly and the fucking horror of what can you make out of this?

"It won't work," he says, and takes a gnarled hand up in his own. "I'm so fucking tired of running away, Lucifer. I won't do it again."

Lucifer's face flickers back into place. He says, "I don't understand."

Dan swallows. He looks down, traces a careful finger over the ring on Lucifer's hand. "You can't push me away because you're scared. I won't let you."

"You need to leave," Lucifer insists.

"Tell me you don't want me," Dan says. He looks up, meets the confusion in Lucifer's eyes. "You never lie, right? If you can tell me that you don't fucking want me—that you don't want me here—I'll go."

Lucifer's lips purse. He laughs, softly, this beautiful wide-eyed thing spreading across his face. Dan always wants to touch the space between his eyebrows when he looks like that—the gentle furrow of them.

"You still owe me a favor," Lucifer says.

Dan frowns, a little amused. "I… yeah, I do."

"And you'd do anything?" Lucifer asks. "Whatever I asked of you?"

"Of course." Dan reaches as Lucifer pulls his hand away. "Luce, I don't understand."

Lucifer smiles and cups Dan's cheek with the hand and kisses him, chaste and gentle and with the faintest taste of salt even though Dan can't remember him crying, and he feels as all-encompassing as he always does right up until he pulls away.

"Leave me."

Dan opens his eyes, feeling— "What?"

"Pay me my due," Lucifer says, gently. "And leave me."

Hoo, boy. First of all, this fic was supposed to be like 16k of enemies to lovers hate sex, and then it wasn’t. But the penultimate scene is my favorite because of the way we finally see Dan and Lucifer’s hangups smashing against each other--Dan is always running, and Lucifer is always pushing people away. But Dan is finally ready to be brave, and he quite literally sees Lucifer at his worst and wants to stay anyway. So he uses Lucifer’s Devil-ness against him, and gives him an ultimatum to force his hand.

And Lucifer’s response has a lot of layers: at first, he’s genuinely trying to push Dan away with his Devil face. But then there’s a shift that we don’t necessarily understand until the finale scene. For most of the fic, Lucifer has been hanging this favor that Dan owes him over Dan’s head; it’s been in a pretty light-hearted way for Dan, who can’t think of much he wouldn’t do for Lucifer. But for Lucifer, who cares so deeply about free will--who Fell for it, the idea of having that control over Dan was unthinkable. So Lucifer cashes in the favor by forcing Dan to leave him, which is the one thing Dan wouldn’t do of his own free will--thus simultaneously exercising Lucifer’s power over Dan and freeing him from it. 

from a heart i couldn’t silence:

"I miss pigeons," says Julian. "I mean, some would say seagulls are effectively the pigeons of the coast, but there's subtleties. Pigeons have a humbleness to them that I can respect—seagulls think they're better than us."

Yen barks out a laugh before she can stop herself. "That's the most incomprehensible pile of bullshit I've ever heard."

"It's not!" Julian insists. "You know I'm right, Yennefer."

Yen rolls her eyes and looks over at Ciri; she's smiling now, her hands still wringing her sweatshirt while she talks to the group.

"... I never thanked you, you know," Julian says abruptly.

Yen shifts uncomfortably. "For what, not failing you? It was for my own benefit—I couldn't risk you retaking my fucking class. I would've killed you and prison isn't in my five year plan."

Julian says, "For Geralt."

Yennefer loathes playing dumb. It's beneath her in every way. She asks, "What about him?"

"There was a month and a half period where I got really into playing 'Jolene' on guitar," Julian answers.

Yen's nostrils flare. "I don't want to play six degrees of separation with your brain right now, Julian."

She can tell it hits too hard by the way his posture changes. She doesn't apologize.

"I know that if you'd asked him not to, he wouldn't have ever…" Julian trails off, but she'll grant him that measure of obscurity. "I mean, I just—I know it makes you uncomfortable. You don't really like me. And I love him more than pretty much anything and… thank you, for that."

What do you love more? Yen wonders. Says nothing about it or anything else that could lead the point of a dagger to somewhere soft.

Remarkably, a crab skitters across the wooden walkway and into the brackish water of the creek.

Julian says, "Forget I said anything," at the same exact time Yen tells him, "It was the way he smiled at you."

"I'm sorry?" Julian asks.

"People like you and I," Yen says slowly, "learned how to be greedy. Geralt doesn't want loudly, or often. He's convinced he isn't made for it."

Julian says softly, "I know."

"And he smiled at you," Yen says, "like he wanted to be wrong."

Look, this scene isn’t even really the point of the fic, so much as it’s setting up for a story like 3 or 4 fics later in the series, but I’m low-key deeply obsessed with yennskier and I just really love this dynamic for them. This mutual dislike that morphs into begrudging respect, and slowly they uncover how similar they are in key ways? I eat that shit up. Also, they’re having this interaction coming off of some joint protectiveness over Ciri, which is also my shit.