#JUST SHUT YOUR CAKE HOLE EH?

[traveler-of-realms]

Faelit was a place to get into all sorts of trouble. It’ll definitely find you, even if you’re sitting on the front steps of a building, waiting for someone to come back.

Ces had left me alone. Only for a moment, but it was long enough for another woman to find me. I jumped as a heavy weight creaked the woods steps beneath me. “Hey, old pal. What’s good?”

A demon woman was smiling at me. Two large horns swept back from her temples, with two smaller ones doing the same below them. They hid two long, tapered ears, and were partially hidden by the mess of curly red hair atop her head. Her skin was red at the edges and faded into a more human pink towards the center. Two rows of fanged teeth showed as she pulled a mischievous grin.

“I don’t know you,” I said, carefully.

She languidly stretched out and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I froze. “Yeah, there’s a creepy lady following me. So now we’re best friends, and we’ve done cool things together and we’ll go on adventures in the future. Because that’s what pals do. Friendship is two pals munching on a well-cooked face together.” She laughed at my expression. “I’m just teasing you. So. What’s your name?”

“Jaden.” I mean, those high heel boots probably could make a good weapon against creeps, but that was just my opinion.

“Oh. I like it. Nice name for a nice…” She squinted at me. “Enby?”

“Yeah,” I said, surprised.

“We get a lot of people like that around here. Plenty of species don’t do gender. I’m KJ. Or Kate. Whichever.” She casually wiped some unseen crumbs off her tank top. “What brings you to Faelit?”

“Someone named Ces brought me here. I don’t know why, honestly.”

“Shut up! She’s still alive? I’m gonna have to get a good look at her. I’m assuming she just left you here like a child in a hot car, huh?” I nodded. “Eh. She does that. I’ll keep ya company.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you? Species, I mean. I’m sorry.” Now my curiosity was really piqued.

“Chill out. Your kind calls us demons, and our realm Hell. Though you won’t end up there due to masturbating or not forgiving the person who took the last cake slice at a potluck, I can tell you that.” She took out a flask from her cargo pants and took a sip. I shook my head as she offered it to me. “Weird species, humans. You want to go inside? Grab a bite or a drink? My treat. Ces might not be back for a while.”

I paused. “Tempting offer. Where are we going?”

KJ gestured up the stairs. “In there. It’s a cafe by day and a night club by sundown. You look like you could use a coffee or something.”

“They have things a human can eat?”

She laughed. “Yeah, but it’s slim pickings. We don’t get many around here, you see. Don’t worry, Barry will know what to get you. He’s an expert on biology.” She got up and climbed the stairs. “Come on. Don’t be shy now.”

As much as I didn’t really trust her, I hadn’t really eaten or drank anything since Ces pulled me here. I was getting a bit weak. Feeling like a bit of a whiner, I followed KJ.

———

The cafe itself was beautiful. Windows that acted as portals lined the left wall, while the right one was taken up by the counter and all the coffee equipment. Every once in a while, the windows would shift scenes, or someone would enter or leave through them. Each table was intricately carved and decorated with unique designs, as were the four chairs each one had. The wooden walls were a soft yellow color, contrasting with the red-brown tiles. Patrons were few right now, but conversation was kept to a murmur. The small chandeliers cast just the right amount of bright, cheery light across the place. It was introvert me’s version of heaven, essentially.

KJ walked up to the counter and softly tapped her knuckles on it. A shadow bloomed into existence, and then a person stepped out of it. Well, it was more like a person shaped hole in the world, if that makes sense. The shadow figure tilted its head at KJ.

“It’s been a long time, miss. Who’s your—“ the male voice stopped cold as his head turned towards me.

“Barry, this is Jaden. Found them in the dump outside. Jaden, Barry. Now make nice.”

Barry didn’t move or speak for a long while. “KJ,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “where did he come from? I thought humans couldn’t travel here.”

“Ces brought me here,” I offered. “She’s…repaying me for a favor I did her.”

“I see. Well, what can I get you? I’m not sure what humans like to eat or drink, but KJ should be able to help you find something.” Barry set two mugs on the table.

KJ ordered some kind of roasted food that ended up being on fire, and a red boiling liquid. For me, she suggested a few dishes that were far too unfamiliar for me to feel brave enough to eat. Some kind of deformed squid, overly suspicious jelly, fish with seven eyes grilled to near burnt…

I settled on a pastry filled with something that tasted like a pig-chicken hybrid, with a hint of barbecue. I also got a tall glass of water with oddly shaped ice cubes. KJ paid for it all with a currency I never saw before and coaxed me to sit down at a cafe table near a window.

“So…” She smirked at me. “Let’s talk.”

[newsiesarchive]

FF.Net Back Up: The Unfortunates by Clink

Originally Published May 26, 2000

Not your regular, flowery Newsies fan fiction. The reality of NYC during the turn of the 20th century for all of it's inhabitants... including newsies. Rape, murder, drugs, and growing up, all in one heart piercing/warming story. (Now revised and updated

Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama - Words: 4,195 - Reviews: 19 - Favs: 2 - Updated: Mar 28, 2001 - Published: May 26, 2000 - id: 28678

Slow, sleazy music played in the background of a dark, devious Irish pub in Brooklyn. Men with beautiful locks of red, dingy hair grinned at each other in foolish manners as they threw their large mugs together in celebration.

"Aye! Aye!" They shouted in drunken tones over the ruckus of the room. "Maddie Malone" was being sung by a man in the back of the room, his deep voice cutting through the individual conversations that went on around him.

"Girl, what do ye say, huh? Be me goil for de night, eh?" A man with thick, blond curls asked the waitress who walked past him with a tray. Her full bust spilled out of her tight corset and her big green eyes sparkled dully as she frowned down at the man.

"I wouldn't die foah yer comp'ny, McGregor. Nor do I need it!" With that she broke away from him before he could forcefully change her mind. The blond drunk giggled to himself before downing another whisky.

There were boys of all shapes, sizes and ages to boot. Cigars hung out of their mouths and hats placed on top of hair that was oily from neglect. Their still growing faces were disfigured from the coal dust and mud that caked it. And yet their voices were chipper as they passed around the beer, the smokes, and their lives. Some were not over the age of 14. Many had even been to the bed with a woman. A few were lucky enough to have jobs, and money in their pockets. Most of them were poor street trash, however, who had not a penny to their disgraceful names.

"An' dis is what I get? Eh? Foah bein' a good man! I get pain. I get... beer." An upset drunk howled from his place on the floor. His turned over chair sat next to him, on which he had lined his empty beer mugs on, where they balanced precariously. He sat in a puddle of his own waste.

"Shut your bloody hole, man!" Came the cry from a 12 year old boy. His face was hidden by a stack of cards that he was playing in a game of poker. His supposed "lucky" hand would give him enough money to feast on candy and cigars for the rest of his life. Or so I thought to himself.

The bawling, drunk man whimpered lightly to himself before passing out on the floor, his face covered in his regurgitation. His eyes flickered under his swollen eye lids while his hands and legs thrashed about him in a drunken manner. His left hand stole out once to hit the chair that had been holding his collection of beer mugs. They crashed to the ground, shattering and spilling left over beer all over the man. He cried out in his sleep, and no one seemed to notice.

A young man of 18 sat at a booth, staring glumly at his untouched mug of beer. A stack of newspapers, hot from the afternoon presses, sat beside him as poor company.

"You goin' ta finish dat, mate?" A large, rugged man asked him as he pointed to the mug in front of the boy.

The younger of the two nodded slightly, his square chin bobbing up and down in a slow manner as he locked eye contact with the other man. An impression of shock grazed the other man's eyes as he noticed the set jaw and the utter seriousness of the younger fellow. Feeling all of a sudden uneasy, the large man grumbled obscenities in his native tongue before stomping away to find a sucker to buy him a drink. His woman had just given birth to a bastard child, (which just so happened to belong to his brother) and he needed liquor. He would teach her who was boss when he got home.

The young man sighed inwardly as he turned back to his drink. Absentmindedly, he ran a large and ink covered hand over his stack of World papers next to him. It seemed second nature to him. He spent most of his time in some various pub, staring at a drink as if he knew he was supposed to drink it. It was different than the time that he used to spend drinking or in bed with a dirty woman. The simple truth was that he didn't know what he wanted anymore.

As he looked around him, his cool, blue eyes roaming around the dark room, he took in the faces of all of the people. Men who were sloppy drunk, screaming profanities to each other. Other men who kept their hands attached to a woman's hips or thighs. Young boys, not old enough to be away from their mothers, gambling their day's money away. And this was so-called life. Not only life, but LIFE as they would probably know for the rest of their dingy lives.

New York city was a trap. A trap of dreams... and a spider web for dreamers, only to be caught, wrapped up in the sticky strands of disappointments and betrayal, and slowly eaten alive by humanity.

"Snoddy! Got a quartah?" An unusually deep voice of an adolescent asked the young man. The smirking, dirt covered young boy had been standing next to the young man's elbow for a few seconds unnoticed.

"Oh, uh, yeah." Snoddy reached into his worn pant's pocket and pulled out an old quarter that had lost it's shininess long ago. He looked up into the face of his friend, Snipeshooter, who was only eleven years old. The boy smiled triumphantly as he held the quarter up to his hazel eyes to examine it. Then with a wink to his older friend, he scampered off to his marble game that he had his paper money for the next day bet on. Snoddy tilted his head in thought. He had changed that quarter almost a year ago out of 25 pennies that he had received from selling papers one day. He kept it in his pocket that long for the sheer fact that it gave him comfort knowing that he had a quarter when some people could barely scrape five cents together for a hunk of bread. It had seemed right to give it to Snipes, who had recently suffered from anemia.

He had met Snipes long ago when the lost nine year old was but a poor boy on the streets. Cold and hungry, abandoned and hopeless. He was pure American because of his parents who immigrants from Germany. They traveled the harsh journey from their home in Warsaw when Gretchen, Snipes' mother, was four weeks pregnant. Leaving that early gave her time to prepare for her new son at their home in the Bronx. When he was only three years old, however, Snipes' father was killed in a brawl at the local pub and his mother was forced to work as a maid until she contracted tuberculosis. She died When Snipes was just turning five. With no other family left in America, the young boy was placed in an orphanage that he escaped from.

Shortly, Snoddy found him and took him to the lodging house, where he and his friends lived. Soon enough they formed a certain bond, and the boys made a newsie out of the gutter snipe. That was the pessimistic side of the deal, though.

In a way, the city had ordered the boy to be hung and Snoddy and the other newsies had tied the knot in the noose. Sure, the newsie business was one of freedom in some respects. You could roam the dirty slums of Queens, the Bronx, Midtown, Harlem, or Manhattan, and pretend it was made of gold. So many boys could confess to pretend in their dreams that the mud was a delicacy of candy, or other luxurious foods, like their parents told them before they came to America.

"Oh, Leo, just think! When we get to America, there will be every opportunity for you! An education. A job. Money. Oh, and love! Just think of the pretty American girls you'll find in America!"

Just when they thought they were out of the sewers, more water just came in on them, drowning out their cries as the smog covered their noses and mouths. The city nevertheless gave hope, though. So much hope for all who were young at heart and still pertained images of the all mighty American Dream. Yet again, the dream still remained...

Grimly, Snoddy pounded a strong fist on the table in front of him. Low. That was it. If you lived in New York City, you were either rich and prosperous or poor and low. As Jake had said one time to him, "Damn it all. We can fight and we'se only gonna get pushed back more. Damn it and drink up."

Jake had been Snoddy's first newsie friend, and his role model even though Jake was a few years younger than himself. His big brown eyes held traces of defeat, and yet he covered it well with joy for appearance. Unlike some, he took graciously to the back burner rather than the spotlight. During meetings or what not, he pretty much was determined to keep to himself. Whenever he was asked about his past, Jake would grin and say jokingly, "I survived it, dat's fer damn sure!" All that he would tell was that his dad was a sailor and his mom used to work in a dress shop as a tailor. When he joined the troop of Manhattan newsies, however, he mentioned no other family or friends.

He was a boy who believed in dreams and golden streets, puddles of candy rather than mud, and the smells of rich and luxurious foods all around him. Walking down the street you would find Jake laughing richly as he twirled his brown, ever-present, bowler in his hands, leaping and dancing about on his golden streets. Snoddy thought it was wonderful to have hope, like Jake did. He wished that sort of happiness for himself.

"Aw, why so glum?" Jake had asked Snoddy early one day as he shoved a flask towards him. "Why doncha have a little drink on me. It'll take the ease of a yer pain, mate." That night Snoddy and Jake traveled into Queens and got sloppy drunk. As they were leaving the bar that they had been in all night, however, a mob of Queens newsies enticed them into a fight. Snoddy was slightly hurt, banging his wrist into the side of an alley wall besides the numerous gashes and cuts he received. He still remembered the moment that the group of boys had run from the scene as a police officer began to chase them off into the night. He was left in the dark alley with the broken figure of his good friend, Jake, at his feet.

Jake had several broken ribs and his leg was damn near ripped apart by one boy's club that was taken to him. He stayed in the orphanage hospital nearby the lodging house for months, and although he was out, he still had to limp to the circulation office each morning with a cane to help him walk. He remained in a depressed disposition, his image of candy covered streets and so forth dimmed by his tragedy.

Snoddy's life seemed to be on a whirl... spinning away from him so that he was losing his footing on everything that seemed real. Jack was gone to a better place with the love of his life, Sarah Jacobs. Kloppman had died and left the lodging house to Crutchy who had no other means for a future. Even David, the Walking Mouth who had led them to victory in the strike three years earlier, had left for college to study journalism. He knew that he had what it took to end up better than his friends back in New York City. The Unfortunates.

"We'se so unfortunate dat we'se got our own official name!" Racetrack Higgins joked one night after a rich woman had gracefully threw a penny at the small Italian.

"Bless you unfortunate children. May God love and protect you." She had muttered before hurrying towards the coach that had stopped by the side of the street near them. No matter how nice she displayed herself to be, there was still a tad amount of fright that was held in the tension of her lips and the wideness of her eyes as she turned her long, slender back towards the dirty boys.

Race looked towards Skittery and Snoddy, who were with him on that night, and snorted. "Getcha gun! Quick, b'foah she gets away!" He screamed through his cupped hand. They had a big laugh as the woman whimpered and leaped into the coach, ordering the driver to "take her away from this filth."

"See ya 'round, sweet thing!" Skittery had called after her with a grin standing out on his slender face. Race and him took turns blowing kisses at the departing coach. Then as a grand finale, Skittery threw a large hunk of horse manure through the open window, right into the woman's lap. She shrieked, and then the coach disappeared around a corner and out of their sight. Snoddy congratulated Skittery for his wonderful improvisation by buying a round of drinks that night. He was older than Snoddy by a month, and he would be dead before his 18th birthday a couple months later.

Snoddy closed his eyes for a moment, a flood of nasty scenes coming back to him of that night. Bloody papers on the wall, sounds of struggle, grunts of pain... it had all ended so quickly, as everything does in the city. Lights come on and burn themselves out, sparking slightly and then leaving a shattered bulb in the place of what was a wonderful orb.

"Drink it up," Jake's echo filtered through Snoddy's tired mind as images sweltered behind his closed eyelids. If he could only go back to the way his life was before he had began to think about such things. There was a time when he was blind to such ways of life. Bad things would happen and it would automatically be erased from his mind, only to make room for the next event to happen. If he could only do that, everything would be salvaged, he would still be the same person that he was in his youth...

"Snoddy, baby, come to bed..." A soft, alluring voice beckoned from the cot behind him. The "flavah of da week", as Kid Blink called it, was lying on her stomach, smiling as she peered at Snoddy while he looked through the window and onto the street below. They were in her husband's apartment in the Bronx, and Snoddy was highly drunk. He swayed back in forth as he tried to concentrate on the horse drawn wagons rolling below him. He didn't even know her name.

Scenes like this, which took place months ago, happened all the time. Snoddy got drunk, blacked out, and all of a sudden found himself in a girl's building or in a dark alley with rats crawling around his naked body.

"Low cost ta pay foah da action, right, Snoddy?" Kid Blink had mentioned to him one night at the lodging house. The thin blond blue eye sparkled next to the other one that was covered in the brown patch. "Trust me. LOW cost."

Night after night, Blink, Snoddy, and a few various other newsies would walk the streets to find them some action. Some flavor. And they usually found it for a low cost. One night the women were so enticed with Snoddy and his newsie friends that they had a little party in a alley next to the lodging house. Kloppman had stated before that he forbid any women friends inside. Snoddy awoke the next morning to a prostitute, throwing up on his naked chest.

"C'mon, try dis one!" Snitch ventured with a lopsided grin. "You'se gonna like it... bettah den da stuff I had last week, I sweah." He pushed cup of rum apparently laced with an opium-like substance toward Snoddy. He bigger of the two took the tonic and drank it, his eyes swimming with tears after the second swallow. Although he preferred alcohol to other vices, sometimes he was curious enough to try other means of passing the time. Itey's constant badgering didn't help, either. After too many nights in the washroom of the lodging house, turning green and feeling as if his insides were falling out, Snoddy decided to decline all of his younger friend's future offerings.

Alcohol. Nicotine amongst other narcotics. Gambling. Women. The days were occupied with selling while the nights were free to the young men to make their dreams come true.

Sometimes, Brooklyn himself would come to Manhattan to gamble. Spot Conlon, the small and mouse-like young man seemed to bring danger in his midst. A fight always broke out after a disagreement over the card game, and someone always ended up with a bloody nose or worse. Snoddy was never really the gambling type, but he remained on the side lines to watch the growing tension as Brooklyn would lean over the table and slap his hand down.

"Foah of a kind!" He declared triumphantly, tipping his cabby hat back on his head with the top of his ever present golden cane.

The other players quickly folded save for one. Skittery looked up grimly at Spot, who smirked across the table at the larger boy. Every young man in the small space held their breath. And then Skittery broke into a grin.

"Full house." He said carefully and deliberately, laying his cards on the table so slowly that they smacked against the surface of the wood. As everyone cheered, threw their caps and cards up into the air and applauded Skittery, Spot's smirk slowly slipped off of his lips and was replaced by a grim wince. He continued to stare at Skittery reached across the table, holding his hand out his opponent in a friendly hand shake. Spot then swung his cane at Skittery, catching him off guard, as the side of the cane connected with the side of his face. A long gash appeared on his cheek, spilling blood onto the cards that lay strewn on the table. An all out fight broke out soon, the Brooklyn newsies trying to control their leader as the Manhattan newsies held Skittery back as blood continued to ooze down his face and onto his dirty white T-shirt.

Snoddy remembered holding onto Skittery's left arm as he thrashed in defiance, that night. He didn't know it at the time that not a month later his friend would be dead from an infection caused by the cut on his cheek.

The lodging house was still as the newsies mourned for their lost friend. "Maybe it's bettah dis way." Skittery's brother, Dutchy, whispered to the pale and still form on the bunk in front of him. He had his older brother's hand in his and he stroked it with his fingers as his eyes traced the outline of Skittery's face. "You'se wit' mom and pop now, Skitts. Ya don't gotta worry bout no papes being sold. Ya don't have ta worry bout... me..." He choked up then, his sore, red eyes closing tightly as the tears seeped out from behind the lids. Snoddy sighed and patted his mourning friend's back as he continued to clutch on to his brother's hand.

Skittery's death had been a surprise to the newsies. "Life seemed so safe." Bumlets muttered one Sunday morning to Snoddy as they kneeled at the back of a church in Manhattan. "Like da beer was preservin' our blood or somethin'. What a crock." Snoddy had accompanied Bumlets to the church on a whim. He had always been curious about other's religions, though he had never even set foot inside a church. He looked on in a fascinated way as Bumlets fiddled his mother's rosary. It was the only thing he had left of her since she had left him on the stoop of the orphanage.

Newsies left and new ones came in. A new newsie, Shaker, took the bunk that had once belonged to Skittery. Spot Conlon supposedly found a girl and traveled up north. Just as fast as it had once been going, life seemed to slow down... and then everything ceased to exist. A sort of cloth was being held over Snoddy's face and his vision was blurred. The strange women, the drinking, the pace of New York City seemed to have no importance to him anymore. He didn't know what to do now that his life seemed to have no reason for being lived at all.

"Snoddy, lighten up. Dere's always moah good to be had!" Itey exclaimed one night as Snoddy lie on his bunk, dreaming to himself of different worlds with different people. The small boy with curling black hair smiled down at his friend. "C'mon, I know a good piece of women would love ta have ya tonight. What do ya say?" A dirty, dark complexioned hand was shoved in front of Snoddy's face as Itey offered it to him. Snoddy shook his head slowly and deliberately, causing Itey's grin to tremble on his lips. He pulled his hand back to himself and wiped it on his chest as if he had dirtied it. Then he slipped out of the room, leaving Snoddy by himself.

Snoddy's eyes were burning with bitter tears. When did it all stop? When was the time that he could actually stand to look at his life and say that he'd accomplished anything? Was there a point when he could no longer feel as if he was on a downward spiral? Certainly the world was still the same, so why did he feel so alienated all of a sudden? Maybe it was him that had changed.

"You okay, Snoddy?" Snipes asked as he suddenly re-appeared next to his friend. The noise in the bar had quieted down and the cloud of cigar smoke had lifted slightly. The smaller boy's big eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed the dreamy look on his friend's face.

"Snipes," Snoddy began in his slow, rumbling speech, "You evah think of us as 'The Unfortunates?'"

Snipeshooter's left eyebrow went up in surprise, the question was that sudden. "What do ya mean?" He asked curiously. He had noticed that Snoddy hadn't been himself for the past couple weeks. Ever since Skittery died, it seemed, Snoddy had pulled himself away from the other newsies. He hardly ever showed up at the local places and he hardly ever talked to anyone except when he was approached. What happened to the beer guzzling, partying, woman lover that he had once been?

"D'ya evah look at a street and see gold, when ya know it's nothin' but a dirty street?" This question was hushed. Snoddy wrapped his hands around his now warm beer, concentrating more on the condensed water covering his skin than the reaction of the smaller boy. Snipes smiled. Snoddy was turning into a man.

"Shoah, why not." Snipes said in reply as she shrugged his small shoulders.

"You evah think we was born beaten?" Came the next question. Snoddy's cool gray eyes raised to meet Snipes' round blue ones.

Snipes thought over this for a moment. When he opened his mouth to answer, a bright shine lit his eyes. "Da way I see it, we'se beat when we admit it to ourselves. Look at da drunks back dere," he pointed to the remaining men who were either passed out or drinking the remaining beer that the other fellows had left behind. "Dey'se beat 'cause dey gave in. But ya know what? We don't 'ave ta be unfortunate like dem! 'Cause we'se newsies! One day we'se gonna be out dere in da woild sellin' papes, improvin' headlines, and bein' superior to all dat is out dere. An' da woild will know 'bout it!" He finished his speech with a flourish of hands that he threw over his head.

Snoddy pondered for a moment, taking into everything that the other boy had said, studying the other boy's sincerity in which he spoke. And then his face broke into a smile. "Yeah. Dey will, won't dey?"

A few minutes later, Snipes and Snoddy left the pub in Brooklyn, walking together on their street of gold, stepping over puddles of candy, and smelling the smells of rich food. They were happy with the sheer fact that they were alive. And for that they were not unfortunate.

[egertonunwin]

Same Song, Third Verse

If you’re looking for Clara, she’s @luminousnotmatter 

It was just time, y’know? She felt like freshening up. 

She’s still the same, don’t you worry!

She’s gonna stop talking in the third person now ‘cause it’s weird. 😂

See you there!

💖💕💗

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Present from Sakamaki [PART 1]

ー The scene starts in the classroom

Health committee member (1): ーー There we go. That should conclude the check-up.

Yui: Thank you. Phew...

( Hm...I wonder if it’s because I’ve been having my blood sucked, but my weight has gone down a little. )

( I don’t know whether I should be happy or sad...It’s a complicated feeling. )

Health committee member: Is something the matter?

Yui: Ah, no. This is my health report card.

Health committee member: Yes, thank you very much. (2) ーー Ah.

Yui: ...? Is something wrong?

Health committee member: Oh no, that’s not it.

Here...Your date of birth. It’s your birthday tomorrow, isn’t it?

Yui: Ah, now that you mention it...

Health committee member: I’m one day early, but congratulations!

Yui: ( I honestly didn’t think I’d have anyone congratulate me for my birthday after moving to this city. )

Thank you very much. I’m so haーー

*Rattle*

Laito: Nfu, Bitch-chan~! Laito-kun’s here to pick you up~!

Yui: Laito-kun...!

Kanato: You’re late. What were you doing? You really are such a slowpoke.

Yui: K-Kanato-kun as well...

I’m sorry for keeping you guys waiting. The examination has finished already so let’s go.

Laito: By the way, Bitch-chan~? What did you hand over to the lady just now~? 

*Flip*

Health committee member: Eh? Ahーー!

Yui: L-Laito-kun! Y-You can’t!

Laito: Aah~ Right, they took body measurements today, no?

Yui: I’m begging you, don’t look...!

Laito: Hm...? Oh dear, oh dear, what do we have here...? I see...~ 

Yui: Geez, Laito-kun...!

*Flip*

Laito: Well, I’m not really interested in this stuff so I’ll be nice and hand it back. More importantly, let’s hurry back home.

Yui: ( Thank god. He handed it back right away... )

U-Um...By the way, where’s Ayato-kun?

Laito: The・truth・is...~ He got such a bad grade on his test this morning. 

So he got called over to the faculty room~

*Rattle*

Ayato: ...The fuck?

Laito: Ah, well done getting through the teachers’ scolding~! We were just talking about you.

Ayato: Che...The fuck’s their problem? They kept on naggin’ at me just ‘cause I didn’t get the best score.

Kanato: You reap what you sow. If only you were intelligent like we are, you poor thing.

Ayato: Aah!? You two aren’t much better, are you!?

Laito: Eh~~? We’re not on your level.

Kanato: You had a single-digit number, right? Please do not group us together.

Ayato: Che...

Yui: U-Um, Ayato-kun. Please don’t beat yourself up over it...

Ayato: Fuck off! Come on, Chichinashi. We’re goin’ home already!!

Yui: Y-Yeah...!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the limousine

Reiji: Haah...Because of you lot, we are running horribly late.

Yui: ( Uu...I’m pretty sure I informed him of today’s physical examination before we left for school today though... )

Reiji: For one, people such as you lot who fail to stick to a time schedule on a regular basis, will surely experience problems in your daily life as weーー

*Rustle*

Ayato: Oi, Chichinashi. Give me your blood once we get home, ‘kay?

This irritated feelin’ is makin’ me thirsty, so I’ll suck you plenty.

Kanato: Could you not just decide that by yourself?

I am just as irritated because you kept us waiting.

I will be sucking her blood first once we get home. Right, Teddy...?

Ayato: Ah? Excuse me...?

Laito: Nfu~ Bitch-chan’s blood, how nice. I’m hungry as well, so why don’t we equally split it amongst us three?

Reiji: ...Haah...I wonder how I got stuck with a bunch of stubborn fools who refuse to listen to what someone is saying...

Shuu: ...

Reiji: ...That being said, I suppose they are still better than the guy who falls asleep before he can even listen at all...

This good-for-nothing...!

Yui: ( R-Reiji-san... )

I-I’m sorry. It’s my fault we were running late. We had a physical check-up today and...

Since I’ve been a little anemic, it took slightly longer than I expected...

Subaru: Hm? ...Oi, have you really been feelin’ anemic?

Yui: Yeah...

( Could he be worried about me...? )

Subaru: I don’t give a damn ‘bout what happens to you...But it’d suck if you’d run dry of blood. Make sure that stuff gets replenished, ‘kay?

Yui: R-Right...

Reiji: Exactly. Your blood is the only value you hold after all.

Yui: ( Of course. That’s all I’m good for to them. )

( What made me think they’d be worried about me...? )

( I should know that already but...For some reason, it makes me a little sad. )

Laito: ...Nfu~

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Yui’s bedroom

Yui: Phew...Somehow I’m really exhausted today...

Tomorrow’s a free day, so I’ll hit the hay early and spend some nice, quiet time.

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Tomorrow’s my birthday, huh...? I wonder if I’ll be able to head out somewhere...? )

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Laito: Attention please~! Thank you all for gathering here on this fine evening~!

Ayato: ...Geez, what do you suddenly want? I was thinkin’ of droppin’ by Chichinashi’s room for a sip of blood.

Kanato: My poor Teddy had his snacks stolen by Laito, you know...!? I won’t forgive you if you made me come here for nothing!!

Subaru: Che...

Shuu: ...Pwaah...Sleepy.

Reiji: ...Now this is unexpected. I did not think you and Subaru would show up as well.

Shuu: No...I was already taking a nap here when you guys just started gathering one after the other.

Laito: Nfu~ I plotted this get-together immaculately, no~?

Reiji: ...I suppose one could say you used your brain for once, Laito.

ーー So, what is this about? Please stop beating around the bush, and explain to us what is going on.

Subaru: It better not be some bullshit or you’re not gettin’ away with it!

Laito: Hm~ Thank you for your typical input, Subaru-kun~ However, I’m pretty sure you’re going to love hearing about this?

Kanato: What do you have to tell us then!?

Laito: You see, it happens to be Bitch-chan’s birthday tomorrow~

Ayato: Ah? Birthday?

Laito: Yes, exactly!

So...I figured we would all throw a surprise birthday party for her!

Subaru: Ah!? Who in their right mind would waste their fuckin’ time on somethin’ so ridiculous!?

Laito: Oh come on~ I mean, she’s always giving us her delicious blood, no?

Ayato: ‘Giving’, my ass! It belongs to me either way.

Laito: Relax! That’s not what matters right now!

I don’t think it would hurt to show our gratitude and do something in return for once though~

Kanato: Surprise birthday party...

Ayato: Keh. Why do we have to show our gratitude? She’s our prey!

Laito: Eeeh~~~? I thought it’d be fun though. I mean, if none of you are up for it, I guess I’ll drop the ideaー

Don’t you think you’d get to indulge in plenty of takoyaki or sweets? It is a birthday party after all.

Ayato: ...

Kanato: ...

Laito: But well, seems like I’m out of luck, so I suppose I’ll have to give up~

Kanato: Please wait. I cannot possibly turn down an opportunity to eat sweets.

Ayato: I’m in too! Let’s prepare a whole mountain of takoyaki and throw this party!!

Laito: Nfu...~ Now that’s sounding more like a proper celebration.

Reiji: Haah...I feel ashamed having to call those three my brothers...

Shuu: ...Who cares. Just do as you please...

Ayato: Stop complainin’ if you’re not even gonna join in. That only means there will be more food for me, so don’t even bother showin’ up!

Kanato: Agreed. You won’t join either, Subaru?

Subaru: No way in hell I’m botherin’ with that annoyin’ crap!

Laito: Hm~ I would have loved it if we could all participate though. You’re skipping out as well, Reiji?

Reiji: Well, under normal circumstances, I would never consider taking part in such nonsense. Howeverーー

It cannot be denied that she has been donating her blood to us.

Furthermore, I cannot see things ending well if the three of you combine forces. 

Worst-case scenario, the whole manor will be blown into the air...Which would be highly troublesome, so I shall participate to keep an eye on things.

Ayato: Keh, there you go talkin’ shit ‘bout us again.

Laito: Well, I guess the four of us will celebrate Bitch-chan’s birthday together then.

Reiji: Halt. Do you truly believe that I can supervise all three of you just by myself?

Laito: I’m pretty sure we don’t need someone keeping an eye on us though~? 

Reiji: I am not that naive to fall for those words.

I am using my veto to impose mandatory participation on every member of this household, understood?

Subaru: Haah!? What gives you the right to do that!?

Reiji: Do you have any idea how much I look after all of you on a daily basis? 

Subaru: Aah!? Fuck do I know!? Besides, we never asked you to do that shit, nor do we actively try and trouble you!? 

Reiji: I suppose those being looked after do not realize how privileged they are themselves. ...That good-for-nothing over there is a prime example of that.

Shuu: ...

Reiji: Better be safe than sorry. You shall participate to protect the manor.

Shuu: Ahー ...What a drag. Fine, so just shut up already...

Reiji: Very well. Well then, Subaru. You will join in as well, no?

Subaru: Hell no.

Laito: Oh come on, why not~? You should join the fun as well. It’s not like you get the chance every day? Right?

If you continue to be stubbornー...

Nfu~ We’ll hold the party over at your room, okay?

Subaru: Haah!? No fuckin’ way!!

Laito: Perfect! That means everyone’s in!

Subaru: Oi!! Don’t make that choice for me!

Laito: Eeh~~? But then we’ll throw the party in your room though? Are you fine with that?

Ayato: Actually, didn’t you lose your temper the other day and busted another hole through the wall?

Shuu: Haha...Taking a nap while enjoying the night breeze honestly isn’t that bad though...

Subaru: ...Don’t come here to sleep...

...Fuck...! You guys better don’t make me do all of the shitty tasks!

Reiji: Well then, I suppose that wraps up this discussion. As for what we need to prepare, the obvious things would be...

Ayato: Takoyaki, duh!

Kanato: I want to eat a cake covered in whipped cream with a bunch of large strawberries on top!

Reiji: Those are the things you guys want to eat, no? We should at least try and consider what she likes.

Ayato: Ah? What are you sayin’? We’re already doin’ plenty by celebrating her birthday, no?

Laito: They say it’s the sentiment which counts, right?

Reiji: Guh...I am baffled to hear something sensical come from you lot’s mouths for once.

Kanato: So, what exactly do I need to do to get my strawberry cake?

Subaru: ...Aren’t we kind of missin’ the point now?

Laito: Oh well, wasn’t there this one important guy who said that participating is more important than winning?

...That being said, let’s go shopping for all the foods we want to eat!

Kanato: I don’t mind if you go buy it for me, but it better be delicious.

Subaru: Then go buy it yourself!

Kanato: Me? Going grocery shopping? Why would I bother doing something so troublesoーー

Right...In one of the books I read in the past, it said that a birthday cake is best when homemade.

I can put on as much whipped cream as I like, before decorating it with a bunch of strawberries...Fufu, my own exclusive cake.

Haah...Just imagining it is making my mouth water...I’ve decided. I will make a delicious cake.

Reiji: Not in my book.

Kanato: Why do I need your permission? I decided I will make it, so it’s already settled.

Ayato: Oh, sounds kinda interestin’! In that case, I’m gonna try my hand at some homemade takoyaki as well!

Reiji: You make it sound so easy...Do you truly believe you can pull it off?

Shuu: Haah. This situation is steadily going downhill...

Laito: Nfu~ Homemade, huh? It’s starting to sound more and more like a real birthday party.

Reiji: Laito, why are you pretending as if you take no responsibility in this?

You are the one who brought up the idea in the first place, so you should make sure things are kept in check.

Laito: Eh~~~? But that’s what you’re here for, no?

Ayato: ...So, what else needs to get done?

Kanato: You aren’t thinking of making us do all the work, right?

Reiji: Of course. For one...

I have yet to hear of a birthday party with only takoyaki and a cake.

Ayato: Haah? What’s so bad about that?

Reiji: It is a day on which humans celebrate their very short life, so do you not believe there should be a diverse, luxurious buffet as you would see at evening galas or dinner banquets?

Kanato: I do remember how noisy those evening parties would be. However, I am not interested in anything besides the cake.

Reiji: ...Haah, you are only thinking of your own gain. Truly what one would expect from you lot.

Ayato: I mean, I doubt Chichinashi will enjoy it, unless we’re having fun as well!

Subaru: Che...Ridiculous...

Reiji: Good grief...I suppose I have no other choice. In that case, I shall be in charge of making the main course...

Laito: In that case, I’ll help out Ayato-kun~ Making takoyaki sounds kind of fun, to be honest.

Shuu: Pwaaah~ ...Doesn’t seem like there’s anything I need to do...

Reiji: You shall keep an eye on her to ensure she does not leave her room.

It is a trivial task, perfect for someone like you, no?

Shuu: ...Che...What a chore...

Subaru: Haah, whatever.

Reiji: Subaru, you will be doing your fair share as well.

Subaru: Haah!?

Reiji: Do you truly believe I can trust Kanato by himself in the kitchen? Make sure to keep an eye on him.

Subaru: Why me!?

Reiji: Since you are the only one still left without a task, obviously?

I expect you to put your life on the line to ensure the kitchen does not go up in flames.

Subaru: Annoyin’...

Laito: Okaay~! Well then everyone, off we go! (3)

*TIMESKIP*

Ayato: Oi, Reiji! Step back! I gotta be the one walkin’ in front!

Reiji: Pipe down, Ayato.

Kanato: Good grief...I cannot stand all this noise. Say, you feel so too, don’t you, Teddy...?

Subaru: We’re not lil’ children anymore, so wouldn’t it have been better if just one of us did the shoppin’ by themselves...?

Laito: Oh come on, don’t you think it’s fun to all go grocery shopping together for once~?

Subaru: ...Che. Don’t talk to me as if we’re buds.

Reiji: ...Hm? Everyone, wait one second.

I cannot see Shuu anywhere around?

Subaru: Haah? Who cares? He’s probably snoozin’ again somewhere.

Reiji: Good grief...Here I thought he was actually joining without any protests for once, but there he goes acting off his own accord again...Truly infuriating.

Even though we have to ensure we are back at the manor by the time she wakes upーー

Ayato: Oh! They’ve got a takoyaki grill! Laito! Let’s go check it out!

Laito: Huh~? But don’t we already have one of those?

Ayato: Ah? Like I know where to find that thing. It’d be too much trouble lookin’ for it.

Laito: Good point! Let’s go have a look then!

ー The two of them enter a store

Reiji: Ah, halt! We should stick to the planning and only visit the necessary stoーー

Kanato: I simply cannot spend another minute with this rowdy bunch.

I will go my own way, so come look for me if you need me.

ー Kanato leaves as well

Reiji: Hey! Where are you going, Kanato!? I will not let this selfish behavior slide!

Haah...

Shuu: Pwaah...Like this, I can’t relax no matter where I go...

Reiji: You good-for-nothing...You shamelessly come walking up to me and that’s the first thing you say...?

Shuu: Nn...I’ll be over on that bench over there, so just come wake me up once you’re done shopping...

Reiji: At this point, your laziness has surpassed the point of being disappointing, it almost feels refreshing.

Shuu: Thanks for the compliment...Sleepy...

ー Shuu steps away

Reiji: It honestly is not even worth insulting him...

Subaru: Haah...The fuck is this farce? I want to go back home...

*SCENE SHIFT*

Ayato: Oi, Laito! Do you know what ingredients we need to make takoyaki?

Laito: It’s called takoyaki, so octopus is a given, right?

Ayato: I know that much as well!

But I want to make takoyaki like nobody has ever tasted before!

I’m gonna make so many of them, they’ll pile up all the way to the ceiling!

Laito: Nfu~ Sounds like something you would do. In that case, we need to stock up on plenty of ingredients.

Ayato: Yeah! We’ve got plenty of people with us to carry the bags!

Laito: If we’re going through the trouble of making them, it’d be a little dull to stick to normal takoyaki, right? ...Ah, how about this?

Ayato: Wasabi? Whatcha gonna do with that?

Laito: Fufufu, that’s something to look forward to at the party.

Ayato: ...This and these, also those over there...

Laito: Let’s put them all in our basket! I’m so excited, nfu~

*SCENE SHIFT*

Reiji: Honestly those triplets, always doing as they please...

Subaru, wait right here. I will go call them.

Subaru: Haah!? Why do I have to...Wait, oi!

ー Reiji leaves

Subaru: ...Haah. This grocery run is fucked up.

Shuu: ...

Subaru: This guy is seriously out here snoozin’...

Shuu: ...Shut up. I’m still awake.

Subaru: The fuck!? You’re actually awake...

Shuu: Haah...I just don’t want to move because it’s too much of a chore...

Subaru: Then why did you even join us in the first place...

Shuu: I could ask you the exact same thing...Pwaah...

Subaru: ...Che.

ー Subaru starts walking away

Shuu: ...Oh? Going home?

Subaru: Shut up. Leave me alone.

ー Subaru leaves

Shuu: ...

*SCENE SHIFT*

Subaru: ...

Kanato: Aah, as if on cue. Subaru.

Subaru: Che, goin’ home now after he said that just doesn’t sit right with me...

Kanato: Subaru.

Subaru: That bein’ said, I don’t want to just have to stand there and play supervisor either. I’m goin’ home because I want to.

Kanato: Subaru!

*Rustle*

Subaru: Ow, the fuck you doin’, bastard!?

Kanato: How many times do I have to call you before you come? Are those ears there just for decoration?

Subaru: Ah? I filter out that annoyin’ voice of yours.

So, what do you want?

Kanato: I’ve settled on the ingredients I want for the cake. Please carry the basket and follow me.

Subaru: Haah!? Why do I have to act as your personal carrier!? I was just ‘bout to head home!!

Kanato: What are you saying? The two of us are in charge of preparing the cake together, so it only makes sense for you to help out, no?

Subaru: You’re the one who wants to make that damn thing, aren’t you? Then shouldn’t you be carrying the basket yourself?

Kanato: I’m already holding Teddy. How am I supposed to do that?

Subaru: Aah!? I’m gonna punch you, you bastard!

Kanato: Punch me? You’ll ignore my request and hit me...? Even though you’re the one just standing around there, doing absolutely nothing?

Yet you trample all over my generous attempts to try and help you be useful...Who do you think you are!?

If you fail to understand that, then why don’t you punch yourself on the head instead? Come on, hurry up and do it!

Subaru: Haah...Shut up. Ahー Fine! I just have to carry your stuff, right?

Kanato: Hmph. ...You should have just done so from the very start. Right, Teddy...?

Subaru: Fuck off! I’m comin’ so shut up and show me the way!

Kanato: Fufu, it’s this way.

Subaru: Honestly...I seriously should have never tagged along...Fuck.

*SCENE SHIFT*

Reiji: ...That’s...

Subaru: ...

Reiji: Subaru. Why are you here?

Did I not tell you to wait by that bench over there earlier?

Subaru: Ah, geez! Stop naggin’ at me this whole time! I can go wherever I want!

Reiji: Do you not think you are at fault for not simply saying no earlier? Honestly, it’s always the youngest ones that cause trouble...

Subaru: Oi, you jerk. What didya say just now!?

Reiji: I only stated the truth. So, why are you on the move?

I gave you that task because I figured you would not want to have to walk around.

Take a look! I have brought Ayato and Laito along with me.

Ayato: Ah? 

Laito: Nfu~ You’re talking about us as if we’re your luggage~

Subaru: Not my fault! I’m not doin’ this ‘cause I want to! If you want to complain, then complain to Kanato instead!

Kanato: We’re going to buy the ingredients for the cake. You really are the very definition of a creep, trying to track my every move.

Reiji: ...

Ayato: Oi, Four-Eyes. I know what I wanna buy so gimme some cash.

Reiji: You sure have some nerve to ask me for money after you have been doing nothing but acting selfishly this whole time. Do you really think you can get away with that!?

Ayato: Ah? Why are you snappin’ at me? You’re such a cheapskate.

Kanato: Exactly. Why do you not try and keep your calm a little?

Laito: Nfu~ Perhaps you’re running a little low on calcium~? (4)

Reiji: ...

Subaru: ...

Reiji: ...Very well. Just do as you please. However, I do not intend to give you lot a single yen.

ー Reiji leaves

Ayato: Ah! Oi, wait! ...O-Oi, do any of you guys have some cash?

Kanato: Are you dumb? Why would I have money on me?

Subaru: Oi, what are we gonna do...

Laito: This is your fault, Ayato! Go apologize to Reiji!

Ayato: Haah!? Why do I have to say sorry!?

Kanato: That’s easy. Because you’re to blame for everything.

Ayato: Haah!? He was upset with you as well!

Laito: In that case, the two of you should go say sorry.

Kanato: Why are you trying to escape the blame when you’re the one who was together with Ayato in the first place?

Ayato: I’m never apologizin’!

Laito: Get going, you two.

Kanato: I’m not going either!

Subaru: Ahー God! Stop the damn arguin’! All three of you should go apologize!

Ayato: Why do I have to!?

Laito: Ehー?

Kanato: Under no circumstances!

Shuu: You guys are way too loud...You’re practically shouting for the whole store.

Pwaah...That being said...You’re still not done...?

*TIMESKIP*

Subaru: ーー There you have it. So Reiji, just give in already.

At this rate, we’ll never make it back to the manor.

Reiji: Even so, I cannot give in now.

Subaru: ...

Reiji: ーー However, right...I suppose I shall show my gratitude and let it slide this once. Although I have yet to hear an apology.

Ayato: What is this Four-Eyes goin’ on ‘bout?

Reiji: If you continue to call me that, I would not mind just heading home straight away.

Ayato: Che...

Reiji: Hmph...

Subaru, I will be joining the three of them.

Meanwhile you will go look for Shuu so the two of you can purchase the ingredients I need for my own dish.

Subaru: ...Hah? Why not just buy them yourself?

Reiji: Perhaps try using that brain of yours a little and you will realize that it is simply impossible to look for the items on my own list while also keeping an eye on those triplets at the same time.

Above all, I want to ensure that good-for-nothing at least does something as well.

Subaru: I don’t get it. I’m not doin’ anythin’, understood?

Kanato: How can you be so selfish?

Ayato: Exactly! Are you goin’ to ruin this whole thing ‘cause you’re being a selfish prick?

Laito: Reiji’s mood finally improved, but now Subaru-kun’s going to ruin it again?

Subaru: Fuck...What is your problem!?

Laito: It’s easy, no? If Reiji doesn’t give us any money.

We can’t buy the stuff we need for Bitch-chan’s birthday party, right? Ah-ah, I’m sure she would have been so happy as well.

Subaru: ...

Che...I just have to go buy that shit, right!?

*Flip*

Reiji: Very well. I have written down everything with the exact quantities I need on this note.

Subaru: ...You nitpicker.

Reiji: It would be bad to overbuy, no? Please call it effective instead.

I will pay for all ingredients together, so please wait in front of the cashier once you’re done.

*Rustle*

Subaru: ...Hmph.

ー Subaru walks off with the memo

*SCENE SHIFT*

Subaru: Shuu!! Wake up!

Shuu: How could I sleep under these circumstances...? You guys are really noisy...

Subaru: I have to go through this shit ‘cause you were loafin’ ‘round! Now get up and make yourself useful!

Shuu: ...Haah...Guess I have no other choice. I heard most of the conversation earlier, so I’ll make an effort to move today...

Nn...So, what do we have to buy...?

Subaru: This.

*Rustle*

Shuu: Haah, that’s quite the list...Subaru, you carry the basket.

Subaru: Haah!? You can go get it yourself, no!? Why is it always me!?

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ...Nn...

( I wonder when I last got such a good night’s rest? )

( Usually, someone always barged in to suck my blood the second I try to go to bedーー )

*BOOM*

Yui: W-What was that!?

( That sound just now...I didn’t just imagine it, right? )

*BOOM*

Yui: A-Again!? Also, I can smell something burnt as well...

( I-Is everyone okay...? I should go check up on the situation... )

ー Yui tries to leave her room

Shuu: ...

Yui: ...S-Shuu-san! What is happening!?

( Why is Shuu-san lying on the floor in the middle of the hallway...!? )

*BOOM*

Yui: Another explosion...!?

Shuu-san, wake up please! ...Shuu-san!

( Oh no...He’s not waking up at all. There might actually be something wrong with him... )

Um, Shuu-san...! P-Please wait right here! I’ll go call someone else!

*Rustle*

Shuu: ...Shut up. ...Oh, it’s you.

Yui: Shuu-san...!

( T-Thank god. He was just asleep... )

Shuu: ...My muscles are sore...

Yui: Geez, it’s because you slept on the ground. More importantly, why are you here?

Shuu: Ahー... I have no other choice, do I? ...I have to keep an eye on you...

Yui: ...?

Shuu: ...No, it’s nothing.

*BOOM*

Yui: ( ...!! )

U-Um...Do you have any idea what these loud blasts are about...?

Shuu: Hm? Aah...You’re just hearing things. Now hurry back to your roomーー

*BOOM*

Shuu: ...

Yui: That sound again...!!

Shuu: ...Guess we’re not using the kitchen for a while after this...

Yui: Um, what did you say just now...?

Shuu: Nothing...Well, you can just continue sleeping, don’t let it bother you.

Yui: E-Easier said than done...

Shuu: Whatever, just go to bed....If not, that fussy guy will...

ー Reiji joins them

Shuu: ...Too late.

Yui: Ah, Reiji-san...!

Reiji: I came to check up on you because I could imagine you would be sleeping on the job again...

Yui: ( The job? What is he talking about? )

Reiji: You...You’ve woken up, I see?

Yui: Um, is something the matter? I’ve been hearing these explosions this whole time.

Reiji: No, it is nothing serious. You should return to your own room.

Yui: But, I’m worried about the others...

Reiji: Your concern is meaningless to us Vampires. Now get back to your room.

*BOOM*

Yui: A-Again!? Um, Reiji-san...?

Reiji: ...Haah, for god’s sake...

*SCENE SHIFT*

*BOOM*

Ayato: Uwaaah!? What the fuck’s happenin’!? Do somethin’ ‘bout this!!

*CRASH*

Laito: The fire, Ayato-kun! Hurry up and extinguish the flames!!

Ayato: You do that!!

Laito: Okay, here I go!!

*SPLASH*

Ayato: Oi, that’s damn cold...!!

Kanato: What are you doing!? It nearly got on Teddy!!

Ayato: Complain to Laito, not to me!!

Laito: Ahaha! My bad, my bad~! My hand slipped a little~

*Thud*

Ayato: Ah! Hot, hot, hot! Oi, this thing’s hella hot if you touch it!

Subaru: Oi, you fool!! Of course it’s gonna be hot...Che!

*SHATTER*

Kanato: Why do you keep on getting in my way, Ayato!?

Ayato: I’m not doin’ it on purpose either!

Kanato: Then get out of my sight! You’re in the way!

Laito: Uwah~ This situation keeps on getting worse and worse. I feel like it’s beyond saving at this point?

Subaru: Don’t be standin’ there makin’ a calm observation of the situation and do somethin’ ‘bout it instead!

Laito: Ah~ No chance! Once things stop exploding, we’ll just have to start over from scratch, okay?

Kanato: Don’t be ridiculous! Do you have any idea how much time and effort I put into getting this far!?

Ayato: Crap! I think it’s gonna boom again!

Subaru: Oi, idiot! Don’t come my way with that thing!!

*BOOM*

*CRASH*

Subaru: Fuckーー!! Which one of you bastards thought this was a good idea!?

*SCENE SHIFT*

*BOOM*

*CRASH*

Yui: ( I could faintly hear Ayato-kun and the others in the background. I’m sure they’re the ones behind these loud noises... )

( I have no idea what they’re doing, but I can tell that the manor is on the brink of destruction... )

Reiji: ...

Yui: ( Reiji-san’s temples are twitching...I’m pretty sure he’s infuriated...? )

U-Um...If there’s any way I can help out...

Reiji: ...No, that will not be needed. I will take care of it...

Yui: I see...

*BOOM*

*SHATTER*

Yui: ( Honestly, what is going on? I can still hear everyone shouting too... )

Reiji: Shuu, how long do you intend to sleep amidst this ruckus?

Shuu: ...Shut up, I’m awake. I’m doing the task given to me, no?

Yui: ...Task?

Reiji: Aah...It is nothing that should concern you.

I will come and call you later, so do not set foot outside of your room until then.

Yui: Eh? U-Um...

Reiji: Understood?

Yui: ( S-Scary...I probably shouldn’t ask any more questions, right? )

...Yes...

Reiji: Very well. Well then, good-for-nothing. You will be switching duties and head towards the kitchen with me.

Shuu: Haah...What a drag...

ー The two of them leave

Yui: ( ...What on earth is happening in this house? )

( However, I have no other choice but to return to my room after what Reiji-san told me, right? )

ー Yui goes back inside her room

Yui: ( I went back inside as I was told to, but... )

*CRASH*

Reiji: Ayato! Cut it out! What are you even trying to do!?

Ayato: I just...!!

*BOOM*

Ayato: Uwaaah! This damn thing exploded again!!

*THUD*

Yui: ( Don’t let it bother you, just ignore it... )

Subaru: Uwaah! The fuck you doin’, Kanato!? Don’t point that dangerous thing towards me! 

Kanato: ...Fufufu, I talked it over with Teddy, and we’ve decided to take down Ayato with this!

Laito: Then point it towards Ayato-kun instea...Uwaah!!

*BOOM*

*SHATTER*

Reiji: Ah, you lot...Stop this at once!!

Yui: ( Peace of mind...Positive thinking... )

Kanato: Ayato! Keep still and let yourself get hit!

Ayato: In your dreams!

Laito: Ooh~ Nice catch, Ayato-kun! Now dump it inside the water...

Ayato: Kanato, you should go ahead and blow up!

*BOOM*

Yui: ( ...Haah, I feel as if it just keeps on getting worse... )

( Speaking of which, I can’t hear Shuu-san at all. He can’t possibly be asleep amidst all of that...Right? )

( Even a Vampire would get hurt, no...? )

( Above all, it’s kind of rare for all of them to gather and do something together. )

( Hm...I honestly can’t imagine what they could be doing. )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) At Japanese high schools, they usually have a health committee with a representative in each class. This student is in charge of helping out during the physical examinations, will escort students when they are feeling ill or have injured themselves to the infirmary, etc.

(2) In Japan, it is quite common to say ‘I have received it’ when somebody hands you something. (People at stores might say it when you pay and give them the money as well.) However, the translation ‘Thank you’ just sounded more fluent and natural in English.

(3) 持ち場に着く or ‘mochiba ni tsuku’ usually gets translated as ‘to get to your station’ or ‘to get in position’. However, since some of them are actually moving places/leaving the house, I altered the translation a little. 

(4) I had never heard of this before, but I googled the terms ‘calcium deficiency’ and ‘irritation’ in Japanese and did find multiple articles talking about a possible link between a bad mood and lacking calcium.

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

[ Part 2 ] →

[ptergwen]

positions

w/c: 2k

warnings: smut but there’s fluff toooo

a/n: literally based this whole os off positions by ariana bc if y’all didn’t know i love her and the song came out yesterday it’s so so good go stream and YEAH everyone enjoy

-

“it’s been so lovely to meet you, y/n.” nikki gives you a warm smile and reaches over tom to put a hand on your arm. tom squeezes your side from his spot next to you. he’s sitting between the two most important women in his life. leaning into him more, you return the smile.

“you, too. i’m really happy we could do this,” you agree. “tom’s a lucky guy, eh?” she raises an eyebrow. “i am. almost as lucky as dad.” he beams and kisses the side of your head. your nose scrunches up. “oh, you two. do you really have to go so soon?” you look at tom to confirm. “don’t you have a call in the morning?” considering it for a second, he shrugs. “we can stay another hour.”

nikki pats your arm and shifts her gaze to tom. “why don’t you spend the night? you do have a room and wifi here.” now he’s looking at you to see what you think. you smile a little in response. “sure, mum. that would be perfect.” she nods, proud of her idea. “should we make that dessert i was talking about, then?”

tom sits at the kitchen table while you and nikki do the baking. you’re using a cake recipe she got from one of her friends. all three of you figured he’d end up burning it. she tells you stories from when tom was a kid, and he interjects whenever something embarrassing comes up. you can’t help but giggle about the time he fell off the stage during a school play.

“and he was in a tree costume. his head got stuck in the trunk hole,” nikki nudges you, both of you laughing. tom hides his face in his hands. “it was hard! you try dancing in one of those things.” “aw, tom. maybe no one noticed.” you crack an egg into the bowl with a snort. he sighs. “they had to stop the show.”

the cake is in the oven four embarrassing stories later. you were going to help nikki clean up, but she insisted you go relax. she almost had to push you out of the kitchen. the woman is a saint honestly, and now you see where tom gets it from. the two of you are back on the couch while she does the dishes.

“thanks for coming tonight. it means a lot to me.” tom leans his head against yours, which is resting on his shoulder. “and mum.” “of course. i wanted to, you know.” you nuzzle your cheek against him. he lets out a breath and grins. “she really likes you. loves you, even.” a smile pulls at your lips. “really?”

“mhm. she wouldn’t have asked you to stay if she didn’t.” his fingers trace random shapes on your thigh. you hum in content. “we would’ve been kicked out by now.” “it’s technically your house still,” you deadpan, but it’s lighthearted. “mm, but we have ours.” that makes you feel so soft and warm. you’re just so in love with him. he’s even more in love with you.

you tilt your head up to peck tom’s lips. he gives you another kiss back. “i love you.” “i love you, too,” he murmurs. he’s about to go in for a proper kiss when nikki peeks her head out from behind the wall. she looks between you both knowingly. “cake’s done.”

the three of you head back to the kitchen together. tom takes the seat the farthest away from everyone this time. he’s a little embarrassed his mom almost saw that. he looks you up and down when you bend over to take the cake out of the oven. feeling his eyes on you, you glance over your shoulder when you stand up. he licks his lips. you bite back a smile and put the pan down on the counter.

“sorry if i interrupted anything,” nikki jokes and starts to get the cake out of the pan. “no, you didn’t. it’s okay.” you’re still looking at tom. you reach up and get the icing out of one of the cabinets, then a spatula from a holder on the counter. the fact that you already know where everything is makes tom get blushy. a good blushy.

the cake is on the cooling rack, so you open up the icing. nikki moves over to give you more room. “we should add some sprinkles, yeah?” she puts a hand on your shoulder. “tom, what do you think?” you noticed he’s been unusually quiet. he clears his throat. “yeah, sounds good.” “alright, then. let’s see if we have them.” nikki goes back into the cabinet you were in.

you get a generous amount of icing on the spatula, then start spreading it around the cake. it’s chocolate. everyone knows what that does. tom can’t stop thinking about how perfect you are while he watches. with nikki, with him, with all of this. he uses that word a lot. perfect. but, he actually means it now. you’re the human embodiment of it.

you’re almost finished with the icing when nikki puts down two different kinds of sprinkles. she found rainbow and the white ones that look like crystals. you put down the tub of icing with a smile. “i’ve got this, love,” she tells you and nods her head to tom. making eye contact with him, you lick what’s left of the icing off the spatula. his eyes are hooded now. you put the spatula in the sink and sit next to him at the table.

“tease,” he says lowly to you, putting an arm around the back of your chair. “you do it to me all the time.” you shift closer to him. he only shakes his head. nikki brings over the cake and a knife balanced on three plates a few minutes later. “who’s hungry?” “me,” you’re the first to answer. tom laughs and takes the knife to cut the cake. “thanks, mum. and y/n.” you put an arm around his neck. “you’re very welcome.”

everyone stays downstairs for two pieces and some small talk. you decide to put everything away in the morning since it’s getting late and tom has to be up. the two of you say goodnight to nikki, then tom leads you upstairs to his old room.

neither of you have to say anything to know exactly what you want. you press your lips to tom’s the second he closes the door, grabbing at his shoulders. he kisses back while walking backwards to the bed. he sits and pulls down you by your waist. your legs are on either side of him. you pull away to catch your breath, resting your forehead against tom’s.

“you were so good tonight, baby,” tom pants, fingers gripping your sides. you start to undo his shirt button by button with a smirk. “i’m not done yet.” he chuckles into your next kiss, shrugging off his shirt. you toss it on the floor and push at his bare chest so he’s laying down. you’re straddling him now, your tongue running across his lower lip. he unzips the dress you decided to wear while your lips trail off to his neck.

“wanna get this off,” he rasps, sliding the straps down your shoulders. you hum against his skin in response and sit up again. the vibrations make him feel tingly. your dress is thrown across the room shortly after. tom runs a finger down your back, his swollen lips curling into a smile. “love you.” “love you more.” you’re about to show him you mean it.

his hand comes around to your front as you unzip his jeans. he rubs your hip, your thigh, almost right where you need him, then he stops. he’s getting you back for earlier. you let out a breath and roll off of him so he can get out of his jeans. he eyes you and takes his boxers off next to speed up the process.

“c’mere.” you’re quick to get back on top of him. you can feel him through your panties as you straddle him. that only makes you more needy. he pulls your panties to the side and uses his middle finger to circle your clit. it’s good, but it’s not enough. “tom,” you breathe out. “i know, i know.”

he easily tugs your panties down, and you move so you’re lined up with him. you reach down and pump his dick in your hand. he presses a long kiss to your cheek. you can feel his breath fanning across your face. you run his dick through your folds to get both of you ready. biting down on your lip, you put your free hand on his chest.

he lets out a low moan when you start to sink down on him. you let him fill you up, taking your time to get there. more quiet noises escape him when he’s completely inside of you. squeezing your eyes shut, you move on him. you go slow at first, both of you feeling every little movement.

tom’s hands hold your hips to guide you. he brings you back down again. your moan is muffled as you let him move you faster. “shit, baby,” he exhales and pulls you forward. it makes him hit a new spot inside of you. you’re bouncing on him now, grabbing onto his shoulders again for support.

“fuck,” you murmur as quietly as you can so you’re not heard downstairs. tom unclasps your bra while you ride him, trying to distract himself so he doesn’t give you two away. he can’t take it off you because of the position you’re in. he pushes it up instead so your boobs are out of it, both hands cupping them. “closer, darling.”

you lean down more so he can reach you. he massages one and takes the other into his mouth. your head is thrown back while his tongue runs over your nipple. between this and the way he feels inside you, it’s so hard not to scream his name right now.

“tom... tom you’re gonna make me-“ you whimper, gulping before you can finish your sentence. he pulls his mouth off of you with a pop and kisses your lips to shut both of you up. keeping the same pace, you kiss him back. it’s messy and breathless. you’re getting close already. you’d normally go on way longer, but he has that stupid meeting.

it only takes you a few more bounces until you get that familiar feeling in your stomach. tom’s firm grip on your hips steadies you while you come. “doing so good. keep going,” he praises, your orgasm making your walls clench around him. you let out a small moan, tom breathing heavier from the feeling. you’re not moving anymore, but it’s enough to have him coming soon after you.

your head dropping onto his stomach, you climb off of him. tom presses his lips to your hair softly and moves his hands up to your waist. “really like when you’re on top.” his voice is raspy. you’re still trying to catch your breath, but you manage a kiss to his chest. “me too. it’s really... nice.” “nice?” he teases.

“stop, i can’t think right now,” you mumble to him. you’ve rolled over so you’re by his side. you have your head laying on his chest. his curls brush your face when he leans over to peck your lips. “i figured. tonight was a good night, hm?” “mhm. we should do it again.” your fingers ruffle his hair.

“what, the sex? or dessert with my mum?” he cringes at how that comes out. you giggle and twirl a piece of his hair. “both. wow, today was a lot.” tom squishes his cheek into the pillow more. “i could fall asleep like this.” “nope, you have to get ready for bed. your call is soon.” you poke at his chest and move over so you’re not on him anymore. he sits himself up with a chuckle.

“you switch up fast.”

[penny-anna]

Scrumptious

“Well,” said Frodo, stirring his tea. “The good news is I met my new neighbour this morning and he’s very handsome.”

“Oh, yes? What’s the bad news?”

“The bad news is I can never talk to him again."

(on Ao3!)

Insp. (loosely) by this post.

His new smial was light, airy, still largely devoid of furniture; it had white walls, and high, exposed wooden beams. It didn’t really have a lot of places for a small animal to hide. And yet.

“Bluebell?” Frodo said, wandering from room to room. “Where are you?” He clicked his tongue. “Here, girl. Come on. Where have you got to? Hm?”

He put his head into the kitchen, and cursed himself. The window was standing open. Crossing the room he peered out into the garden. She was nowhere in sight.

Stepping out the back door, he picked his way across the lawn. There – a flash of movement. Her tail, vanishing into the bushes beside the hedge.

Letting himself relax, he dropped to his knees and crawled along the hedge, searching for her. There she was, her little face peeking through from inside, fluffy and altogether too innocent. “Now, what are you doing, my scrumptious thing?” he said.

“Watering my roses,” said a voice, a deep voice with a warm, rounded country burr. “And… you?”

Frodo shot to his feet, his face heating. On the other side of the hedge, his head just visible over the branches, was – he presumed – his next door neighbour. His mortifyingly handsome neighbour. “Um,” he said, his mouth working. “I was just, um. Looking for my cat.”

His neighbour bobbed out of sight for a second. There was a heavy thunk as he set down his watering can, followed by a rustling of branches. Bluebell let out an indignant mrr as she was pulled out of her hidey-hole.

“This your cat?” he said, holding her up over the hedge.

“Ye-es,” said Frodo, reaching for her. “That is my cat.”

“Here you go,” said his new neighbour, depositing her into Frodo’s hands.

Frodo cradled Bluebell to his chest. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s. Very kind of you.” The other hobbit was smiling, evidently far more amused by the whole situation than Frodo was. “I’ll. Just be going, then.”

“Alright,” said his neighbour. “I’ll be getting on with my watering.”

“Yes,” said Frodo. “Good morning.”

Turning away, he trailed back up the garden to the smial.

*

“How’s unpacking going, then?”

“It’s going,” said Frodo. He switched the phone to his other ear and wedged the tea packet back into the kitchen cupboard.

“That well, eh?” said Merry. “How’s the new smial?”

“It’s fine.” Frodo shut the cupboard.

“You sound a touch despondent.”

“Well,” said Frodo, stirring his tea. “The good news is I met my new neighbour this morning and he’s very handsome.”

“Oh, yes? What’s the bad news?”

He went to the fridge for the milk. “The bad news is I can never talk to him again."

“Goodness,” said Merry. “What happened?”

“It’s just –” Ambling into the kitchen, Bluebell rubbed herself affectionately against his legs. “Get off,” he said, nudging her out of his way. “This is your fault, you know.”

“My fault?”

“No – no, I was talking to the cat,” said Frodo. “It’s all her fault.”

“Really?” said Merry, laughing. “What did she do?”

Frodo explained what she’d done. Merry laughed harder.

“Oh, dear,” he said. “I don’t think that was Bluebell’s fault, actually. That sounds like a you problem.”

“I’m painfully aware.” He poured milk into his tea and slopped some on the worktop. “Oh, for –”

“You should ask him out.”

“What?” He froze in the act of reaching for a cloth. “Are you serious? Merry, this is a disaster. I can never see him again. I think I might have to move.”

“Don’t be daft,” said Merry. “You just got there.”

“Yes, so I should get out while there’s still time,” said Frodo. “Anyhow, he might be straight.”

“Look,” said Merry, “just ask him to dinner – which is a perfectly normal thing to do with new neighbours – and then, you know. Flirt with him and see how he reacts.

“I’m no good at flirting,” said Frodo, morosely stirring the milk into his tea.

“It sounds like you’re off to a pretty good start.”

“Merry!” said Frodo. “I was – not flirting with him. He – he knows I was talking to the cat. Or, I think he knows I was talking to the cat.” He gazed vaguely at the wall. “Heavens above, I hope he knows I was talking to the cat. Stop laughing!”

“No,” said Merry. “It’s very funny.”

“Can I come and stay with you until he forgets what I look like?”

“Absolutely not,” said Merry. “Ask him out. Be charming.”

“You’re no help,” said Frodo. “I’m disowning you.”

“Fine by me,” said Merry. “Best of luck with the neighbour situation. Keep me posted. Bye, now.”

*

He’d been in the smial four days, and was mostly unpacked, when one morning there was a knock upon the door.

It was his next door neighbour. “Oh, my,” Frodo blurted out. “I mean. Hello. Good morning.”

“Morning,” said his neighbour. “I thought I should come over and introduce meself properly.”

“Oh,” said Frodo faintly. He was so very handsome. It wasn’t fair.

“I’m Sam – I live next door.” He ducked his head at his hobbit hole, as if Frodo might have somehow forgotten. “This is for you,” he said, proffering the tin he was holding.

“Thank you.” Frodo took it. “Um. I’m Frodo – I just moved in.”

“I know,” said Sam. He nodded at the tin. “It’s lemon drizzle. I hope you like it.”

Frodo took a peek at the cake. It looked wonderful. “I – I do, yes,” he said. “It looks – good. Listen, I wanted to apologise properly for the other day.”

“That’s alright,” said Sam mildly.

“Because I really am sorry,” said Frodo. “And, um, just to be completely clear, I was talking to the cat.”

“I know,” Sam said. He rocked back on his heels. “So,” he said contemplatively, “does that mean you don’t think I’m scrumptious, then?”

“No, I –” Sam was laughing. Frodo wanted the doorstep to swallow him up. “I mean, I – that’s, that’s beside the point, because I wouldn’t ever talk to someone I just met like that. It wouldn’t be appropriate. And –” He breathed out, and nodded into the smial. “Would you like to come in for some cake?”

“No, ta,” said Sam. “I have to get to work.”

“Oh,” said Frodo.

“Some other time, maybe.” Sam turned to go.

“That’d be nice,” said Frodo. “We could have coffee. Or, or dinner.”

Sam put his hands into his pockets. “Aye,” he said. “We could do dinner.”

“It’s a bit of a mess in here at the moment but I can let you know when I’m, you know,” said Frodo. “Ready to entertain.”

“Alright,” said Sam, a smile spreading across his face. “I’ll see you then.”

Shutting the door, Frodo leaned back against it and hugged the cake tin to his chest. “Oh my – oh, my goodness,” he said to himself, and began to laugh.

[joaquinwhorres]

Fred & Wren - Staring At The Other’s Lips, Trying Not To Kiss Them, Before Giving In

Kind of long to be a drabble, but uh, I got carried away because I love them. Also, as a heads up this is not canon for The Fool.

Fred dropped himself into the seat next to Wren, jostling her into the arm of the couch as the cushions bounced. "I've come to escort you to your birthday celebration."

Wren looked up at Fred, blinking at him as she tried to process what he just said. "What birthday celebration?"

"The super secret after hours celebration that's happening for you. Didn't expect us to just let it slide that you're turning 17 today, did you?"

"That's exactly what I expected," Wren said, furrowing her brow as she closed her book. "I told you I didn't want to celebrate my birthday."

"You had mentioned that, yes, but thankfully I know you better."

"You know me better than I know myself?"

Fred grinned. "Precisely." He stood up from the couch, turning and offering a hand. "Come on Collings, it's either be celebrated or have me pestering you all night. Either way you won't be getting back to that book."

Wren scowled at him but took his hand and allowed him to pull her up. "An hour," she said, following him to the portrait hole. "One hour is all I'll give you."

"We'll see," Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows before disappearing out the portrait hole and leaving an exasperated Wren to follow him.

20 minutes and one circuitous trip around the castle and grounds later, Fred stopped in front of Greenhouse F. The walls reflected the moonlight and the Hogwarts lawn so brightly that despite it being made of glass, it was impossible to see inside of the greenhouse.

"Pretty ingenious, eh?" Fred said proudly gesturing with his head to the greenhouse. "Charmed it myself."

Wren rolled her eyes but she couldn't keep the smile off of her face as he held open the door and waved her in.

"Oh." The word came out as a breath as Wren stopped just inside the greenhouse.

She had been in Greenhouse F before with Professor Sprout, and knew about the glorious and exotic flowers of all different colors and sizes that grew in there. But she had forgotten just how beautiful they were, especially bathed in the soft glow of the floating fairy lights that Fred had set up coupled with the stars and moon shining through the ceiling. She had also forgotten the rich fragrance of the greenhouse of the flowers and soil and life being grown. But more than the memories resurfacing, the thing that overwhelmed her was the absolute serenity of it all. Of how quiet and peaceful the greenhouse was. The fact that there was no one there except for the two of them, and it all seemed very far away from life outside of the four glass walls.

"Fred," Wren turned around to face him with watery eyes, and he was smiling so warmly at her, she thought her heart might burst.

"You haven't even seen the feast yet," he said, stepping forward, and guiding her to the center of the greenhouse with a hand on her lower back.

"The feast?"

What she had thought was a tarp on the floor was really a forest green blanket, and with a wave of his wand a picnic basket appeared, one of the lids opening up to reveal a bottle of Fizzing Honeywine.

Wren sat herself down next to the basket and before Fred could take the opportunity to demonstrate his showmanship, she opened the basket, looking inside.

There were macrons, a piece of what looked to be lemon cake, several different kinds of biscuits, truffles, a jam roly poly and some fresh berries.

She looked up at Fred who was positively beaming.

"Change your mind about the birthday celebration then?" he asked, cheekily.

"Oh shut it," she snapped lightly back at him, but there was no real heat or bite to her words.

"Happy birthday, Wren," he said, bending over to kiss the crown of her head before retreating to the door.

"Where are you going?" Wren asked, and Fred paused on his way out.

He shrugged. "Back to the Common Room so you can enjoy your birthday party. I'll come back to get you in an hour or so."

"Stay," Wren said, and she could see the surprise hit Fred as he blinked once and then turned to face her.

He was quiet for a moment, and for a second she wondered if he was going to refuse or ask her if she really wanted him to. But he didn't. Instead he walked back to the blanket with an "Ok."

It was hard to say how long the two of them stayed in the greenhouse, slowly working their way through the bottle of Fizzy Honeywine and each of the various desserts that Fred had apparently commissioned the House Elves to make.

However late it was, though, the night had not completely passed as the stars still glimmered above in contrast with the deep indigo sky.

"So," Fred said, alerting her to a change of topic from their task of ranking their six Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers from best to worst. "All in all, how does it feel to be of age?"

"It feels very much like yesterday," Wren said, shaking her head as she took another forkful of the cake they were sharing. "And I suspect it also feels very much like tomorrow will."

"A bit bleak," Fred teased, digging his own fork into the cake.

Wren reached over and flicked him in the shoulder, eliciting a laugh from him. "It feels like that every birthday. I never feel like I've gotten any older."

"So this is just any old birthday for you then?" Fred asked.

Wren shook her head, suddenly growing quite serious as she looked at Fred. "No," she paused, wetting her lips. "This is the best birthday I've had....at least since I've been to Hogwarts. Probably longer. Honestly, Fred, thank you."

"It was an absolute pleasure," Fred said with mock formality before eating his piece of cake which might have been a bit too large for his fork as it spread frosting all over his upper lip and even his nose.

Wren laughed as he attempted to lick it off, ridding himself of the mustached but unable to reach his nose.

"Here," she said, reaching over and swiping it with her thumb.

The feeling hit her hard and fast. It was as if the air had changed around them and as she brought her hand back down to her side, she couldn't take her eyes off of Fred or escape the feeling that what she had just done had crossed some kind of line she didn't know existed. Because suddenly this whole situation, the two of them sitting under the stars and fairy lights in a quiet greenhouse, sharing cake, seemed entirely intimate.

"Thanks," Fred said, his voice the same soft tone he used when he agreed to stay. She wondered why she didn't notice then how it seemed to dip gentle, seemed to hint at more beneath the surface of the single word.

Wren shook her head as if brushing off his gratitude, her eyes falling from his down to his lips. There was still a swipe of frosting there, left behind from Fred's earlier attempt. She licked her own lips subconsciously before realizing what she was doing and returning her eyes to Fred's.

But he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at her lips too.

He seemed to catch himself a moment later, meeting her gaze with a bit of a sheepish look. "Sorry," he apologized.

She didn't ask him what he apologized for. It didn't seem entirely necessary. Instead, Wren darted forward, pressing her lips to his. She had intended for it to be a quick kiss. Something she could write off as a thank you or making things even between him and George. But instead, Fred moved his lips against hers, and Wren found herself entirely drawn in, moving around the cake so she could come closer, wrap a hand around the back of his neck as he pulled her into his lap, their lips moving together like waves, crashing on the other's shore before pulling back and then meeting once more.

[war-sword]

girls night, love bites

(draco x any house reader)

summary: in which Draco is thirsty and Hermione actually doesn’t know something? words: 1,299 A/N: i had this idea may months ago but never put it into anything so here it is on it’s own. i hope it’s awkward enough. taglist: @clockworkherondale @accio-rogers @mayorofzillyhoo @diademofdraco @drawlfoy @ladybuginthetardis @silversslytherin @lushlavenderskies @socontagiousimagines @acciodracoo @eltanin-malfoy

read the rest of my masterlist

◈◈◈

“Okay, but I heard from Isobel who learned from Katrina that Stephen is actually, like, super sweet once you get to know him.” Lavender Brown is hanging off her bed upside down while she engages in your conversation.

“Well, I don’t care. His breath was absolutely horrid and I refuse to kiss him again,” Parvati says with finality. 

You flip the page of Witch Weekly Junior to reveal the chart that was advertised on the front. “Whens your birthday, Parvati?”

“November 15th.”

“Hmmm.” You scan the chart with one finger, using your free hand to grab another Chocolate Cauldron from the box. “Says here you should be dating someone who’s born between April 27th and June 9th, preferably under a waxing gibbous moon,” you mutter around the cake in your mouth. 

“Ooh, Blaise Zabini was born on May 3rd!” Hannah Abbott exclaims, making a grabby motion with her hands. You hand her the box of sweets.

“He’s pretty hot.” Lavender adds. 

You hear Hermione make a tiny noise of disgust behind her giant Ancient Runes textbook on the opposite side of the dorm, but no one else seems to take notice. You begged Hermione to take part in Girls Night more often but she always said she never found the topics of conversation interesting and would normally leave. Even if she was ‘studying’ tonight, at least this time she was in the room.

Parvati pretends to contemplate her friends words for about two seconds before she turns to you. “Could you mention me to Draco to mention to Blaise next time you see him? Or ask Blaise what he thinks of me?”

You sigh internally, knowing exactly what Blaise will say when you do this. “Sure,” you say instead.

Hannah has launched into a story about something cute Ernie Macmillan did in Herbology today, when the door of the door swings open and Romilda Vane pops her head in. “Y/N, Malfoy’s waiting outside the portrait hole for you.”

The other girls ooh, and Hermione glares over her textbook. Most of your other friends have come to accept Draco as your boyfriend, but Hermione still has her reservations.

“Did he say why?” You ask, putting your Witch Weekly to the side.

Romilda shrugs, and moves to take your place on the floor. “Don’t be too long,” she says with a wink.

The others giggle and you roll your eyes. “Ask about Blaise!” Parvati calls as you close the door. You go down the dorm steps and through the common room. Sure enough, when you exit the portrait hole, Draco is leaning against the staircase railing just outside. 

“Hey, what’s up?”

Draco grabs one of your hands and pulls you closer as you approach. “Nothing, just bored.” 

You give him your best annoyed look, but he just smirks and brushes your hair behind your ear, letting go of your hand to pull your hips against his. “You know I’m hanging out with my friends right now.”

“They can wait a bit.” Now his fingers are trailing down your neck, his thumb brushing across your throat. 

“Draco, we’re in the middle of the corridor,” you hiss, still putting up an annoyed front. The other part of your brain is wondering how long your friends can be without you.

“So then let’s go somewhere else,” he says smoothly.

You purse your lips and look down, but you put your hands on the railing on either side of your boyfriend and lean a little closer. “I’ve barely seen you all day,” Draco murmurs into your ear, his thumb tracing slow circles on your neck. 

You look up at him. “Five minutes.”

◈◈◈

Ten minutes later you sweep back into the dormitory, closing the door with your body as you hold your hair down against your neck with both hands. All your friends look up at you expectantly.

“What did he want?” Lavender asks.

You pause. “Does anyone have a hoodie I can borrow?” You say instead of answering.

“Sure,” Parvati says, already going for her trunk. “Why–? OH.” 

There’s another beat of silence before Romilda bursts out with shrieking laughter. “Eeeeeek! Let us see, let us see!”

Lavender and Hannah catch on and join in laughing. You feel yourself get hot and you snatch the hoodie from Parvati’s hands and yank it on. “I’m going to kill him,” you mumble from inside the fabric.

“Pleaseeeee, show us Y/N!” Lavender squeaks, but you pull the extra fabric up around your chin.

“Not like we won’t see them anyway,” Parvati adds with a smile. Even Hermione peers over her book curiously. 

You let out a sigh and move your hair to the side. They all gasp. 

“Y/N! Merlin’s beard!”

“Ooh, he got you good.”

“How on Earth did he do it so fast?”

“You’re lucky, my skin is too thick for Seamus to leave a mark,” Romilda sighs.

“Lucky?!” You cry. “I’ll have these for a week!” You pull the hoodie aside to show how the bruises trail all the way down to your collarbone from behind your ear. “All because I didn’t get to spend my free period with him today,” you humph.

Parvati gapes at them. “They’re so dark!”

“I think I have thin skin,” you say. “Or he’s just… really strong.” They all giggle again.

Hermione snaps her textbook shut with a loud thunk. “What is wrong with you all!”

The five of you go silent for a moment. “Pardon?” Parvati says, raising an eyebrow.

“I said, what is wrong with you!” She practically screeches. “You think that’s funny? Or cute?”

“Um, yes?” Lavender says, slightly confused. 

“I know some people don’t like it Hermione, but it’s something most couples do,” Hannah adds.

“Yeah, it’s not the end of the world.” You shrug. “I don’t mind that much.”

Hermione looks horrified. “That’s sick! Y/N, don’t listen to them! If Malfoy is hurting you, you need to tell someone.”

Her words hang in the air for a moment, and then Romilda slaps her hand over her mouth to contain a squeak.

“Hermione, do you think Draco… hit me?” You ask as gently as possible.

“Isn’t that how you got those bruises? Because he was angry he didn’t see you today?” Hermione fumes.

“Hermione… these are just hickeys.”

She stares at you blankly. “What does that mean.”

Romilda squeaks again, and the other girls have a hard time containing their involuntary snorts. You bury your head in your hands. “Hermione, you get hickeys from kissing,” Lavender drawls. 

You peek between your fingers to catch Hermione’s rare look of being caught not knowing something, already blushing profusely. “You… that can happen? How?”

You groan. “It happens, er– you have to, like, suck on the skin. It’s just popped blood vessels.”

“Yeah, look, you can give them to yourself if you try hard enough.” Hannah rolls up her sleeve and starts to suck hard on her inner forearm. 

Romilda is giggling so hard she has tears in her eyes. “You’ve never heard of a love bite before?” Parvati asks Hermione.

“No,” she answers sheepishly. “Why would you want someone to suck on your neck?”

You rub your face aggressively. You don’t know what’s worse, walking around tomorrow with Draco’s marks all over your neck or going through explaining this to Hermione. “I dunno! Boys just, like to do it. They want to claim you, or whatever.” You cringe at your own words.

“Look, look,” Hannah sticks her arm out, showing the small bruise she’d given herself.

Hermione still looked a bit confused. “Is it, enjoyable?”

You all make varying faces of ‘eh’. 

Hermione seems to file all this information away into her brain, and then picks her Ancient Runes book back up. “This has been… enlightening.”

“Oh, Hermione, you crack me up,” Parvati says. 

[boreothegoldfinch]

chapter 11 paragraph x

In the car, out on the main road again, all was jubilation: laughter, high fives, while my heart was slamming so hard I could barely breathe. “What’s going on?” I rasped, several times—gulping for breath and looking back and forth between them and then, when they kept ignoring me, babbling in a percussive mix of Russian and Ukrainian, all four of them including Shirley Temple: “Angliyski!” Boris turned to me, wiping his eyes, and slung his arm around my neck. “Change of plans,” he said. “That was all on the fly—improvised. We could have asked for nothing better. Their third man didn’t show.” “Catching them short-handed.” “Flatfooted.” “Pants down! On the crapper!” “You”—I had to gasp to get the words out—“you said no guns.” “Well, no one got hurt, did they? What difference does it make?” “Why didn’t we just pay?” “Because we lucked out!” Throwing up his arms. “Once in a lifetime chance! We had the opportunity! What were they going to do? They were two —we were four. If they had any sense, they should never have let us inside. And—yes, I know, only forty thousand, but why should I pay them one cent if I don’t have to? For stealing my own property?” Boris chortled. “Did you see the look on his face? Grateful Dead? When Cherry whipped him back of the dome?” “You know what he was complaining about, the old goat?” said Victor, turning to me jubilantly. “Wanted it in Euros! ‘What, dollars?’ ” imitating his peevish expression. “ ‘You brought me dollars?’ ” “Bet he wishes he had those dollars now.” “I bet he wishes he kept his mouth shut.” “I’d like to hear that phone call to Sascha.” “I wish I knew the name of the guy. That stood them up. Because I would like to buy him a drink.” “Wonder where he is?” “He is probably at home in the shower.” “Studying his Bible lesson.” “Watching ‘Christmas Carol’ on television.” “Waiting at the wrong place, most like.”

“I—” My throat was so constricted I had to swallow to speak. “What about that kid?” “Eh?” It was raining, light rain pattering on the windshield. Streets black and glistening. “What kid?” “Boy. Girl. Kitchen boy. Whatever.” “What?” Cherry turned—still winded, breathing hard. “I didn’t see anyone.” “I didn’t either.” “Well, I did.” “What’d she look like?” “Young.” I could still see the freeze-frame of the young ghostly face, mouth slightly open. “White coat. Japanese-looking.” “Really?” said Boris curiously. “You can tell apart by looking? Like where they are from? Japan, China, Vietnam?” “I didn’t get a good look. Asian.” “He, or she?” “I think is all girls that work in the kitchen there,” said Gyuri. “Macrobyotik. Brown rice and like that.” “I—” Now I really wasn’t sure. “Well—” Cherry ran his hand over the top of his close-cropped hair —“glad she ran, whoever, because you know what else I found back there? Sawed-off Mossberg 500.” Laughter and whistles at this. “Shit.” “Where was it? Grozdan didn’t—?” “No. In a—” he gestured, to indicate a sling—“what do you call it. Hanging under the table, in some cloth like. Just happened to see it when I was down on the floor. Like—looked up. There it was, right over my head.” “You didn’t leave it there, did you?” “No! I wouldn’t have minded to take it except was too big and had my hands full. Unscrewed it and knocked the pin out and threw it in the alley. Also—” he pulled a silver snub-nosed pistol out of his pocket, which he passed over to Boris—“this!” Boris held it up to the light and looked at it. “Nice little conceal-carry J-frame. Ankle holster in those bell bottom jeans! But to his misfortune he was not quick enough.” “Flexcuffs,” said Gyuri to me, with slightly inclined head. “Vitya thinks ahead.” “Well—” Cherry wiped the sweat from his broad forehead—“they are light and slim to carry, and they have saved me many times shooting people. I do not like to hurt anyone if I don’t have to.” Medieval city: crooked streets, lights draped on bridges and shining off rain-peppered canals, melting in the drizzle. Infinity of anonymous shops, twinkling window displays, lingerie and garter belts, kitchen utensils arrayed like surgical instruments, foreign words everywhere, Snel bestellen, Retro-stijl, Showgirl-Sexboetiek. “Back door was open to the alley,” said Cherry, elbowing off his sports coat and swigging from a bottle of vodka which Shirley T. had produced from under the front seat—hands a bit shaky and his face, the nose particularly, glowing a flagrant, stressed-out, Rudolph red. “They must have left it open for him—their third man—to come in at the back. I closed it and locked it— made Grozdan close and lock it, gun to his head, he was snivel and crying like baby—” “That Mossberg,” Boris said to me, accepting the bottle passed over the front seat. “Evil dirty thing. Sawed off—? sprays pellets here to Hamburg. Aim it way the fuck away from everyone and still you will hit half the people in the room.” “Good trick, no?” said Victor Cherry philosophically. “To say your third man is not there? ‘Wait five minutes, please’? ‘Sorry, mix up’—? ‘He will be here any moment’? While he is all the time in back with the shotgun. Good double cross, if they had thought of it—” “Maybe they did think of it. Why else have the gun back there?” “I think we had a narrow miss, is what I think—” “There was one car pulled up front, scared Shirley and me,” said Gyuri, “while you were all in there, two guys, we thought we were in the shit but was only two gays, French guys, looking for restaurant—” “—but no one in the back, thank God, I got Grozdan on the floor and cuffed him to radiator,” Cherry was saying. “Ah, but—!” he held up the felt-wrapped package—“first. This. For you.”

He handed it over the seat to Gyuri, who—gingerly, with his fingertips, as if it were a tray he might spill—passed it to me. Boris—downing his slug, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand—chucked me gaily in the arm with the bottle while humming we wish you a merry Christmas we wish you a merry Christmas. Package on my knees. Running my hands all around the edge. The felt was so thin that I sensed the rightness of it immediately with my fingertips, the texture and weight were perfect. “Go on,” said Boris, nodding, “better open it, make sure it’s not the Civics book this time! Where was it?” he asked Cherry as I began to fumble with the string. “Dirty little broom closet. Piece-of-shit plastic briefcase. Grozdan took me right to it. I thought he might fuck around a bit but burner at the head was all it took. No sense getting popped when all that good space cake still around for the taking.” “Potter,” said Boris, trying to get my attention; and then again: “Potter.” “Yes?” Lifting the briefcase. “This 40 rocks is going to Gyuri and Shirley T. Keeping them green. For services rendered. Because it is thanks to these two that we did not pay Sascha one cent for the favor of stealing your property. And Vitya—” reaching across to clasp his hand—“we are more than equal now. The debt is mine.” “No, I can never repay what I owe you, Borya.” “Forget it. Is nothing.” “Nothing? Nothing? Not true, Borya, because this very night I carry my life because of you, and every night until the last night…” It was an interesting story he was telling, if I’d had ears to listen to it— someone had fingered Cherry for some unspecified but apparently very serious crime which he had not committed, nothing to do with, perfectly innocent, the guy had rolled for reduced prison time and unless Cherry, in turn, wanted to roll on his higher-ups (“unwise to do, if I wish to keep breathing”), he was looking at ten sticks and Boris, Boris had saved the day because Boris had tracked down the slimebag, in Antwerp and out on bail, and the story of how he had done this was very involved and enthusiastic and Cherry was getting choked up and sniffing a bit and there was more and it seemed to involve arson and bloodshed and something to do with a power saw but by that point I wasn’t hearing a word because I’d gotten the string untied and streetlights and watery rain reflections were rolling over the surface of my painting, my goldfinch, which—I knew incontrovertibly, without a doubt, before even turning to look at the verso—was real. “See?” said Boris, interrupting Vitya right in the heat of his story. “Looks good, no, your zolotaia ptitsa? I told you we took care of it, didn’t I?” Running my fingertip incredulously around the edges of the board, like Doubting Thomas across the palm of Christ. As any furniture dealer knew, or for that matter St. Thomas: it was harder to deceive the sense of touch than sight, and even after so many years my hands remembered the painting so well that my fingers went to the nail marks immediately, at the bottom of the panel, the tiny holes where (once upon a time, or so it was said) the painting was nailed up as a tavern sign, part of a painted cabinet, no one knew. “He still alive back there?” Victor Cherry. “Think so.” Boris dug an elbow in my ribs. “Say something.”

But I couldn’t. It was real; I knew it, even in the dark. Raised yellow streak of paint on the wing and feathers scratched in with the butt of the brush. One chip on the upper left edge that hadn’t been there before, tiny mar less than two millimeters, but otherwise: perfect. I was different, but it wasn’t. And as the light flickered over it in bands, I had the queasy sense of my own life, in comparison, as a patternless and transient burst of energy, a fizz of biological static just as random as the street lamps flashing past. “Ah, beautiful,” said Gyuri amiably, leaning in to look at my right side. “So pure! Like a daisy. You know what I am trying to express?” he said, nudging me, when I did not answer. “Plain flower, alone in a field? It’s just —” he gestured, here it is! amazing! “Do you know what I am saying?” he asked, nudging me again, only I was still too dazed to reply. Boris in the meantime was murmuring half in English and half Russian to Vitya about the ptitsa as well as something else I couldn’t quite catch, something about mother and baby, lovely love. “Still wishing you had phoned the art cops, eh?” he said, slinging his arm around my shoulder with his head close to mine, exactly as when we were boys. “We can still phone them,” said Gyuri, with a shout of laughter, punching me on the other arm. “That’s right, Potter! Shall we? No? Maybe not such a good idea any more, eh?” he said across me, to Gyuri, with a raised eyebrow.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Two-Back

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

Word count: 3406

Well. I didn’t expect to be posting this today but I need get it out of my drafts so it’ll stop haunting me.

This fic is based on personal events that happened during this month last year. It’s gone through several different rewrites before I finally settled on this version of it. It’s a vent, of sorts, I guess. Which means it’s both very close to me and quite dark at the same time. I don’t sugarcoat it, so please pay attention to the trigger warnings. If you can’t handle it, don’t read it. I wrote this more for myself, not for anyone else, but I don’t want it to go to waste, so that’s why I’m posting it.

With all that out of the way... Check the triggers, and I hope you enjoy. I love you all 💕💕

TW: Rape

——————

“Where’s Boleyn?” Snarled the man who had broken into the theater late that night.

“I’m here.” Answered his prey.

Something in her told her to say it. Deep down, she didn’t want to, but it was the only way to protect the queen. If she gave him what he wanted then he would leave. He wouldn’t hurt anyone else. Sate the hunger within and the beast would settle.

“You look different.” He said, sizing her up.

“Reincarnation sometimes changes the body.” She replied calmly, despite her mounting fear. “I thought you were smart enough to know that, Cromwell.” She knew him from his eyes- cold and hard like chunks of obsidian.

Thomas bared his teeth like a rabid wolf. His gaze is hungry. His forward stride is so quick that Joan couldn’t even think to move, but it didn’t matter anymore, because she’s pinned against the wall of her dressing room. She feels stomach acid creeping up her throat, burning, itching, the urge to expel it all. But her mouth is twisted shut.

“You've wanted this for a long time, eh?” Thomas smirked. “Otherwise you would've pushed me away already.” He knew she couldn’t, for he was pressing hard against her, his weight much greater than hers. “I’ll make it enjoyable for you, I promise. I’m going to do all the things I should have done back then, my lady.”

Thomas’ tongue laps gently against the “queen’s” earlobe before nipping and pulling with his teeth. He bites hard enough to leave a mark and doesn’t stop until his victim yelps.

Joan’s heart aches so bad. It’s like someone’s reaching in with their hand, grasping it so tight, twisting and tugging. Wringing it like a rag. 
Thomas pulls her closer, hugging her against him. Joan can’t breathe for a moment as her face is smothered against his shoulder. He’s sucking on her neck, starting at the side and making his way to the front, to the sensitive part of her throat. Joan is forced to lift her chin, which just gives him more space to bite and mark. She claws at his back.

“Stop-” She hissed. “You f—” She whined sharply when yellow teeth nip on her collarbone. It comes out pained, but Thomas hears a moan of need.

“Do you like that?”

Joan glared at him, but struggled to keep up her strength when Thomas began to make a mess of her chest. He’s pinning her wrists above her head, leaving her helpless to his assault. Slimy trails of saliva are left across her breasts and she cringes.

“Please— Thomas, stop!”

Thomas enjoys the way she pleads his name and starts to bite harder, just to get a reaction.

“You like this, don’t you?”

“Thomas, you-” Joan cuts herself off with a pained noise when Thomas squeezes one of her breasts hard enough to definitely leave bruises. She whimpers and her resolve finally comes crumbling down, along with what feels like her entire life.

Her conscious wavers for a moment. It’s hard to pull it back, as it was far from her reach. Every inch of her body felt numb and she could only squirm helplessly, with each of her movements being slow with fatigue and fear. She barely registers her body crashing to the ground; her eyes shut tightly upon contact with the cold floor.

“Oh, you look so beautiful like this...” Cooed Thomas’ slick voice.

Joan struggled to force her eyelids apart again and moaned softly, head lolling across the ground. A panic attack is rising in her chest.

“The noises you make are almost as cute as...”

For a moment, all her senses were wiped out before coming together again. Colors and light bled together like wet paint on a canvas. She didn’t hear what Thomas had said, but it only took a little common sense to put two and two together.

“T...T...” She tries to speak, but her voice drowns out as her head falls to the ground again. “S..sto...” She can’t get any coherent words out of her damn mouth.

“What’s wrong, my dear Anne? Cat got your tongue?” Thomas croons.

A momentary headache throbs through Joan’s entire skull, making her moan softly in pain. She writhes, kicking out her legs weakly at something that wasn’t there. Thomas notices and chuckles.

“You look so adorable like this.” He said while approaching her, “Like a little baby deer.”

He crouches down, running his fingers over Joan’s clammy cheeks. The tears burn like lava etching trails down her face.

“Moments like these need to be savored.”

“G...go to h...”

“Aww, can’t even finish your threat.” Thomas chuckles and shakes his head. “Now, stop wiggling around. I want to make sure your focus is on me. It’s the only way I can make sure you have a good time.”

Joan eyed him wryly for a moment before doing the exact opposite of what he said, thrashing as much as she could. She tried to scream, but the sound that came out was completely noiseless. A boot drives into her stomach, making her wheeze and then sprawl out limply.

“What did I just say?” Thomas said through his teeth before loosening himself up. “Though, I can’t expect you to get it just yet. After all, it’s your fault we’re in this mess. Anne, I don’t want to hurt you. I just need you. Why won’t you just let me have you?”

Joan is in that half state of unconsciousness again. She’s whimpering and squirming around like a hurt puppy, staring up at Thomas with big grey eyes that only fueled his bloodlust even more.

“My adorable, beautiful little Anne.” He purred.

Bands of hot iron compress Joan’s lungs to a point of bursting. The panic attack rises to the surface and she gasps desperately for air, trying to crawl away from Thomas. Another headache from the anxiety and lack of oxygen lances into her skull like a spear and her eyes are rolling around her in their sockets.

“Now, let’s-” Thomas grunts when Joan manages to kick him in the leg. It doesn’t hurt, but he still glares evilly at her. “You don’t ever learn, do you, bitch?”

Joan scowls at the man.

“But you are such a little fighter, aren’t you? Here you are, crying on the floor, and yet you still try to get away.”

Thomas is turned away, but he’s moving his hands around a lot. Joan doesn’t want to know what he could be fiddling with so she began to search around the room desperately. She ends up finding a broom she had used earlier that day, when things were still okay, and swung it at Thomas’ head. It misses her intended target, but instead slams against his shoulder, which she takes.

“You cunt!” He shrieked, reaching back to see if he had gotten badly hurt. “Do you know what you could have done, you dumb whore?!”

Joan felt a swell of pride. She uses that to get up, but Thomas is suddenly upon her. They tussle and fight, but, try as she might, Joan is no match for the larger, older, clearly-deranged man. The broom is yanked from her hands and her head is smashed against the wall; she swore she could hear the sickening sound of bones breaking. She slumped to the floor, moaning, as Thomas fumbles with her pants and underwear.

“You fucking animal—”

Like that, Joan loses the ability to speak as a searing pain shot through her colon and guts. It takes her breath away; she can’t breathe at all. Her mouth opens and closes frantically, but just can’t understand why she’s unable to pull air inside. It’s because there’s too much inside, too much of the wrong thing, and it’s stuffing her and holding her close and—

“Dear, look at me while I touch you. That’s just common decency don't you think?"

Joan refuses to open her eyes. She wants to lose herself in the suffocation. Thomas pulls her hair.

“Don't be rude.”

She can feel more tears coming- how long had she been crying? She’s shaking her head, whimpering and wheezing as her need for air gets more and more painful.

“N-No..!”

She can't hide the fact that she’s having a panic attack. Her voice is crackling and she sounds snotty. She wants this to stop right now. She tries to ease away, but he’s firmly holding her in place. She keeps muttering “no” over and over again, trying to drown out his voice.

Thomas leans over her more, restraining her with his body weight.

“I said,” White hot pain sears through Joan’s groin, causing her to howl, “Look at me while I touch you, dear.”

She’s dry, and the friction between her legs burns so intensely that it made her see stars. Within moments of only a few thrusts, she already feels raw. The stinging only increases.

All at once, she feels everything- the pain in between her legs, Thomas’ fingernails hooking in her hips, the hand that raised up to fondle one of her breasts, the blazing heat that blooms in her stomach, the broomstick shoved up her rectum. Then, she feels nothing at all.

———

Four hours.

He came in at midnight. It’s now four in the morning.

Four hours.

He tortured her for four hours.

Joan wonders why he didn’t kill her. She wished he did. She wanted the pain to go away.

She lies on the floor of the dressing room, naked, barely away, and struggling to breathe. Her bare, scratched up stomach is splattered with semen- he did her one favor by not coming inside of her. He didn’t want to risk a child from the infidelity.

The broom is lying a few feet away, the end coated in a shiny caking of blood and other fluids. The hole it left in her felt like it would never close.

Joan pushes herself up slowly; the pain is unbearable. It’s a constant, aching thing in her stomach that never seems to relent it’s throbbing. Hot coals were shoveled into each part of her body when she moved again, stoking the raging fires burning inside of her. Her muscles were crackling painfully from the strain of getting up.

She has to clean up the mess left behind. It’s a humiliating, shameful thing. She wipes off her belly and legs and tries to do the same from her vagina and rectum, but they seize up the moment her hands get near, so she leaves them be. The blood congealing between her thighs squelches uncomfortably as she scrubs off the floor with a rag (not a mop. she doesn’t want to feel the similarities of the broomstick). It bubbles and smears and sticks on her skin, sometimes running down the length of her legs and Joan has to quickly swipe the trail away. It’s like wiping away the tears of her ruined virginity.

Every air freshener in the building is sprayed in that room. Joan doesn’t know if it’s enough to mask the scent of sex and blood and sperm because she can still smell it, but she can only hope.

The broom is cleaned and hidden. Joan never wants to see it again.

She puts on her clothes from before once she’s finally done. The pants get soaked instantly and the underwire of her bra cuts painfully into the bruises left behind on her breasts. She deals with it, though. She needs to for a little bit longer.

She limps home on unsteady legs. Every step is absolute agony. When she gets to her single flat, she makes a beeline for the bathtub and stays there until the water is cold. Laying down like she was is uncomfortable. She’s worried about how bad it’ll be when she needs to use the bathroom.

She makes herself a cup of tea when she’s changed in fresh clothes. It soothes her abused throat, but it hurts to swallow. The warmth is good for her regardless. Wash away the taste. Force down whatever stickiness is still latched against her esophagus. She takes a painkiller as well.

The TV stays on tonight. The darkness is unwanted. She lies down on her side on the couch when laying on her back and stomach both prove to be painful. She makes sure she can still see the door. She’s made sure it’s locked twice.

Joan knows she probably won’t sleep, and she knows that’s to be expected. She’s prepared for it. She knows how this works.

———

Joan smiles shyly at Aragon. She rolls her eyes at Kitty. She helps Cathy with an original song. She follows the director’s orders.

She avoids physical contact. Which is normal. It’s what people who experienced what she did, do. Nothing to be ashamed of, just a typical reaction.

The others don’t suspect a thing, and she’s relieved. It isn’t easy to cope with what happened, but she’s confident that if she just kept at it, by herself, she can do it. There’s no need to confide in anyone—especially Anne. They don’t need to know.

Nobody needs to know.

———

It’s October, now. Five months have passed. Joan has recovered.

Physically speaking, her vagina and rectum eventually closed back up to normal sizes and using the bathroom became less painful as time went on. It’s still sensitive down there, but not as bad as it used to be. The bruises on her breast have healed, too, and the hickeys Thomas left behind were no longer visible.

Mentally, however... Well, Joan was working on it. She was really good at hiding what happened, masking it and twisting it around until it seemed harmless. It wasn’t, she knew, but she let the illusion remain.

The little things tipped her off. Hearing the word “rape” or seeing it happen shows or something like that didn’t phase her. She knew most of it was fiction, and there was a fine line between reality and make believe. However, she couldn’t stand to look at broomsticks anymore. As shameful as that was.

The nightmares start, too, but they’re an on and off thing. Her dreams are mostly blank, now. The memories only shove their way in when they want to taunt her, teasing her mind with their horrible tendrils.

Therapy’s supposed to be beginning, but, somehow, she knows she’ll still have nightmares of his naked body, his disheveled hair, and fingers inside her. Sometimes she dreams of monsters on top of her, pinning her down, licking her, knotting her, smashing their mouths against hers, clawing and groping and grasping. Sometimes she dreams of just watching that happen from a distance, and it’s Anne beneath the beast.

Sometimes she wishes she had let that happen.

It’s selfish, she knows. She knows all too well about selfishness and envy. But, God willing, when Joan wakes in the night, shaking and shivering and trying not to scream, the comfort of the incident happening to someone else that wasn’t her is the only thing that could soothe her.

She can feel it sometimes, too. Fingers forcing their way in. Tongues lapping her breasts. Teeth tugging her ear.

And it burned, burned, burned...

But Joan copes. She forgets—that’s a better word for it. She doesn’t nurture herself or make herself stronger, she just tries to pretend it didn’t happen. And when she does recognize it, she jokes about the incident with herself because it’s the only way to make it hurt less.

People don’t like when she jokes about it. They found it rude and offensive. She didn’t see it that way. It was a coping mechanism. Telling her to stop is what was rude and offensive.

But there weren’t that many people that knew. She didn’t share it often. Only sometimes on her secret social media account, which is where the backlash stems from. She preferred it that way. And then she messed it all up.

It happened too quickly for her to really comprehend it. She was sitting by Anne during a lunch break before their next show, trying not to isolate herself anymore. Anne was talking with the other queens. They all had a tendency to joke about their experiences with Henry, especially Anne, who didn’t really have any boundaries, as she wasn’t phased by dark humored jokes. So that’s why she had made some offhand, but subtle comment about dubious consent, and Joan just had to open her mouth and say something on agreeing to that. She didn’t even realize she did it until she looked up from her granola bar to see eyes on her.

“What?” She blinked.

“What did you say?” Anne said to her.

What Joan had blurted out hit her like a freight train. Instead of replying, she just went back to chewing her snack, hoping everyone would just move on, but then Anne grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to an empty room.

“What happened?” Anne asked.

Joan doesn’t answer. She looks at Anne with wide eyes and she can feel the queen’s anxiety smothering her, but she can’t answer. The words are caught in her throat.

“Joan,” Anne’s voice lowered. Her eyes are bulging in their sockets.

Joan was dizzy, falling, the world and everything she knew rushing past her.

You saved her, you saved her, you saved her- She kept repeating that in her head, but it brought her no comfort. She wasn’t a hero. Especially because she sometimes wishes she never did what she did.

“Did someone...?”

Anne didn’t need to elaborate. She’s heard and seen enough context clues from the other queens to know signs.

Joan swallowed thickly, and then nodded.

“Oh my god—” Anne reared back in shock, as if the gesture had taken a physical form and punched her in the stomach. She took Joan’s hands in her own. “Oh my god, Joan. When? What happened?”

“A few months ago,” Joan stammered. The floodgates have opened. She couldn’t keep it back anymore. “He— Some guy— Cromwell is alive and he broke into the theater looking for you. S-so I...”

“Oh, Joan, no—”

“I told him I was you.” Joan whispered.

Anne went very still, very silent, very pale. Her eyes widen and widen, and a quiet tear slowly rolls out from one side. Her hands, which still held Joan’s, have tightened. For a moment, it didn’t even look like she was breathing—she just stared forward, over Joan’s head, not even meeting her gaze, and held perfectly still.

And then, she’s jerking backwards and storming out of the door. She paces back and forth, hands up at her head and tangled in her hair as she tries to breathe but it didn’t seem to be working well for her. More tears were streaming down her reddening face. The other queens looked over worriedly.

“It’s my fault,” Anne muttered. Over and over again—she got lost in that single phrase like she was in a trance. Joan was scared to snap her out of it, but she had to speak up.

“No it isn’t—”

“YES IT IS!!” Anne whirled to her, face flaming, eyes ablaze with guilt and despair and rage. “He was looking for ME, Joan! I-if I had just been there, then I could have—“ She clamped a hand over her mouth and screwed her eyes just.

“I saved you!” Joan cried. “I couldn’t let him hurt you! This— this is my—”

“No,” Anne shook her head miserably. She grabbed Joan’s forearms and held on so tight it hurt. “No, Joan, no! You-you should haven’t— You—”

“I WASN’T GOING TO LET HIM HURT YOU!!” Joan yelled. “I don’t CARE what happens to me as long as you’re okay! I want YOU to be alright! I want YOU to be safe!” Her voice cracks, wavers, and the tears spill free. They sting her eyes like hot needles. “Because— because I— I let so many people hurt you. Back then. And I didn’t do anything to help you. I could have, but I—” She chokes for a moment and dips her head. “I saved you. It’s what I couldn’t do before. And it’s what I deserve.”

Anne’s legs buckle and she falls to her knees. Her arms wind tightly around Joan and she sobs into her stomach. Above her, Joan is still, hands hovering over the queen, until she, too, falls.

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. They were both crying too hard to talk at this point, anyway.

[its-nyakemi-nya]

Twisted Wonderland One Shot Raffle #7: Ace Trappola x Fem!Reader x Deuce Spade

pumpkiethepie: For the scenario, I don't really have an idea for the characters but maybe a comforting scenario, like the reader had a bad day/bad new she doesn't feel really okay but her friends are here to help and comfort her? I let you chose the characters ~

Won and requested by @pumpkiethepie nya!

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland nya. I only own the plot of this one shot nya.

P.S: I would like to apologise if the canon characters are OOC nya. I would also like to apologise for my errors in my grammar nya. Enjoy nya!

“I’m so sorry, Ms. [Last Name]. We’ve investigated in every corner of Twisted Wonderland and unfortunately, there’s not a single information about a way home back to your world,” Dire Crowley said, breaking the news to you.

You heard your heart shatter as if a glass just broke into tiny tiny pieces.

“I see,” You said, smiling at Dire Crowley, “Thanks anyways.”

“Do not worry. I’ll be continuing to support you until you can do so on your own,” Dire Crowley said, trying to comfort you.

You just bowed your head and left his office.

________________________________

When you returned to the Ramshackle dorm, you used the other room and locked the door. You slide downwards while letting your tears fall from your eyes.

“Why? This isn’t fair!”

As sort of...ermm...useless as Crowley can be, he really did research a way back to your own world. You did expect both sides of the coin however, it still hurts that you can never ever return back to your original world.

________________________________

“Oi, Grim! Where’s Prefect [First Name]?” Ace asked.

“She’s still holed up in the other room,” Grim answered.

It has been a week since Crowley broke the news to you. You stopped attending classes with Grim as you curled up into a ball with a blanket covering you. Grim and the ghost trio don’t even know what to do. The ghosts even tried to cheer you up by pranking Grim. It did made you smile a bit but you’re still quite down by the news.

“Shouldn’t you try comforting her?” Deuce said.

“Believe me when I said, I did,” Grim responded, “Even the ghosts helped me by making my life miserable but it wasn’t enough.”

“Looks like there’s one thing left to do, Ace,” Deuce said, his bad boy mode switched on.

“Looks like we’re going to do this the hard way,” Ace said, smirking.

________________________________

“Prefect [First Name]! Open up!” Ace yelled while banging the door.

“Go away!” You yelled back.

“Please, come out!” Deuce pleaded, “We’re worried about you.”

You didn’t respond.

“All right!! That does it!” Ace yelled and break down the door by kicking it. And it worked.

“Yieek!” You squealed, “What the heck?!”

“Sorry about that, Prefect [First Name]. We’ll fix it later,” Deuce apologised.

“You look lame, Prefect [First Name],” Ace said, eyeing her.

“I don’t care anymore,” You said, not bothered by it.

“We’re going out,” Ace said.

“I don’t want to,” You responded, covering your face with a blanket.

“See? She wouldn’t budge!” Grim said.

“I guess we better leave then.”

The trio left, hearing their footsteps fade away...or so you thought.

Suddenly, the blanket wrapped around you was forcibly removed by Ace.

“Geh!”

“Deuce!” Ace called out.

You were hoisted up on the shoulder by none other than Deuce, “I’m sorry but we need to do this.”

“Let me go!” You squirmed.

“No can do!” Grim said, “You need to go out!”

“Where are we going?!” You asked angrily.

“You’ll see.”

________________________________

“Why here?” You groaned.

“Eh? You look down, Prefect [First Name],” Cater teased you.

“That’s because I am,” You responded, calming yourself down, not wanting to cause a scene during the Unbirthday Party.

“Try these tarts, they are delicious,” Trey said, giving you a plate.

You sighed, “I know how delicious they are bu-”

“Try some of the cake too, [First Name]! It’s so good!” Grim urged you to eat.

“No thanks. I just want t-”

“You must be thirsty. Let me pour you some tea,” Deuce said, pouring you a cup.

You groaned because of the attention you’re getting. You really don’t need this. You just wanted to be alone. One more comment and you’ll-

“Hey, hey, hey! let’s play a game of croquet!” Ace pulled you up.

That was the last straw for you.

“I said i don’t want to!” You yelled, making everyone look at you.

“[First Name], what’s wrong?” Deuce asked, worried about you.

“May I please leave?” You ignored him and excused yourself to Riddle.

Riddle, noticing your temper and mood, agreed, “Very well then. Though you’ve broken a rule, I’ll let you off just this once.”

“Thank you very much and I apologise for my outburst,” With that, you immediately ran away from the party.

“Wait up, [First Name]!”

________________________________

You stopped in front of the mirror that will lead you back to the mirror chambers. You started to slowly fall down, tears coming out of your eyes. You cried. You really can’t take it anymore.

“[First Name], why did you run away?” Deuce asked.

“That was totally not cool, you know!” Ace said.

“We’re your friends. We’re always here for you, you know,” Deuce added.

“So you better tell us what’s going on or-”

Before Ace can finish his sentence, you turned around and trapped them in a hug while wailing in their arms.

“Wah!” Your cried your heart out.

Your action took them by surprise. But they remained still for your sake.

“Life’s so unfair! Dire Crowley already told me that I can’t return back to my home! He can’t find a way to get me back to my old world! I can’t see my friends there...my family...everyone! I just want to go home!” You finally said what’s going on, “I don’t want to stay here anymore! I just want to go back home! Is that too much to ask?!”

“I-If you have no home to return to then, you can always come to me,” Ace said, in a low voice, embarassed.

“Ace,” You broke the hug.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Why you?! I’m more capable than you!” Deuce said, “You can always go to mine if you want, [First Name].”

“Oi! I was the one who asked first!” Ace yelled at Deuce.

“[First Name] will be the one who’ll choose whose home she wants!” Deuce yelled back. The two started to bicker in front of you.

You simply smiled. Looking at the two...it makes you feel comfy...a warmth in your heart. You’ve realised that...

...they are your home.

BONUS SCENE:

A few days later after that event, you are feeling a lot of better. You did not hole up in the other room and you’re doing better than you ever did before.

“[First Name] is mine! So back off!”

“It’s clear that I’m more suitable than you are!”

As usual, the two are bickering. You simply giggled, “What are you two bickering about?”

“Nothing!” They immediately responded.

“Just be honest and tell [First Name] that you like her,” Grim teased.

“Shut up!” The two yelled, blushing.

You grabbed their hands and started pulling them. 

“Where are we going?” They both asked simultaneously.

“To Mostro Lounge! We’re going to have a date!” You said, giggling.

“Eh?!”

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ @sasuhinabigflash2020​​ || Day Thirteen: Show No Fear ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Shisui ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: A Light Amongst Shadows ] [ AO3 Link ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ]

“Sasuke...when was the last time you left the house…?”

Looking up from a scroll he’s reading, Sasuke gives his cousin a questioning glance. “...why?”

Arms folding, Shisui perks a brow at him. “Because it seems like the entire time I’ve been back, you’ve been holed up in here like a mouse under three feet of snow. Doesn’t seem much like the Sasuke I knew.”

At that, Sasuke sours a few degrees. “You know damn well I’m not the Sasuke you knew.”

“I don’t mean in regards to growing up and the trauma you faced. I mean in terms of shying from something difficult.”

“...excuse me?”

The elder Uchiha looks him over thoughtfully. “...why are you here, Sasuke?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“I mean here. In Konoha. I’ve been playing my fair share of catch-up, but from what I’ve heard, it sounded like you were dead set on razing this place to the ground not too long ago. Then suddenly you changed your mind? Why?”

“Not really something we can discuss with a light chat,” Sasuke counters, eyes dropping back to his reading.

“Because it seems to me,” Shisui goes on, clearly ignoring the cue to drop the matter, “that you’re scared of something.”

There’s a long pause before Sasuke looks back up. “...I’ve heard a lot of stupid things in my time, but that takes the cake, Shisui. What the hell do I have to be scared of?”

“You tell me,” is the simple counter.

“I’m not scared of anything here.”

“Then why aren’t you doing anything beyond hiding away in here?”

“I’m not hiding -!”

“I’ve heard how you’ve been avoiding everyone you knew like some kind of plague. And I know I don’t know how things went with most of them...and those I do know of, not nearly as well as you do,” Shisui offers, holding up a hand at Sasuke’s tensing. “...but it seems pretty obvious to me you don’t want anything to do with them. But my question is...why are you still in Konoha if it seems to be making you so damn miserable?”

“...that’s rich, coming from you. Konoha’s underbelly stole your eye and left you for dead, and you haven’t done a damn thing to change things.”

“I was fifteen when that happened, and things were a lot more unstable than they are now,” Shisui rebukes. “Now I am all for taking out some trash, but not in the ‘burn Konoha to the ground’ kind of way like you suggested in the past. There’s some rotten shit in this village, even after Danzō and Hiruzen have been removed. But there’s also a lot of innocent lives and people just trying to survive. Which I think you’ve come to realize. And I think that’s also why you came back at all: to try and salvage what’s left of the place you remember as a kid. There’s still things in Konoha worth fighting for. But you don’t seem to be doing much of anything about it.”

“I’m -!” Sasuke’s mouth clamps shut, suddenly aware he’s not sure what he wants to say. “...we’ve both got our own shit to sort out. You spent half your life alone, blind, and bearing a hell of a lot of dirty secrets. I spent mine following every wrong path and person willing to take advantage of me. I killed my brother. I let Orochimaru and Obito and Akatsuki use me to try and find what I was looking for in all the wrong places. It’s been, what...a few weeks since the war ended? Sorry if that’s too much time to try and sort out everything that’s happened the past ten years.”

“I’m not saying for you to drop all inhibitions and pretend nothing ever happened,” Shisui retorts, exasperation in his tone. “But the thing is, you’ve got to take that first baby step sometime. The longer you put it off, the harder it’s going to be. I know you have issues with your classmates. Some...a hell of a lot more than others. But isn’t there anyone you can think of to at least make that initial effort with? Anyone at all? And no, neither of us count,” he adds as Sasuke opens his mouth a bit too quickly.

Shifting to a half-hearted glower, Sasuke looks aside. Truthfully, given how much he retreated from others not long after even joining the Academy...he’s given very few of his classmates any thought beyond those who ended up on his team. And for now, they are the last people he has any inclination to connect with. “...I don’t know. I didn’t exactly make many friends growing up.”

“Shocking,” Shisui counters flatly, ignoring his cousin’s scathing look. “...tell you what. Just...go out for the afternoon. You don’t even have to talk to anyone. But gods above Sasuke, you have to experience more of Konoha than this house. You want to save it, right? Change it for the better? Then don’t be such a stranger to it. People are already wary of you given your status of missing nin, no matter your reasoning behind it. The more you hide away and give them the cold shoulder, the harder it’s gonna be to convince them that what you want to do here is for the betterment of the village. They’ve got work to do to re-earn your trust...but so do you. Otherwise you’re gonna come off as an asshole shoving his weight around without really knowing Konoha. You ‘abandoned’ it. So come back. Truly.”

“Tch…” In all reality, it was Konoha that abandoned him, but...he knows Shisui is right. He’s not scared of the villagers, but rather...apprehensive. As his cousin notes, he isn’t on the best of terms with them, nor them with him. He’s already so damn tired, so worn from all he’s gone through. The thought of picking up yet another cause, another battle, has been daunting.

...but he’s not afraid. He’s not about to let Konoha think it scares him.

So, after a moment of silent internal debate, he rolls up his scroll, tying the parchment shut before getting to his feet. “...fine.”

“Atta boy. Show no fear, eh?”

That earns a cool glance, but no verbal retort as he heads for the door and into the large, empty expanse of the clan compound. To his annoyance, the autumn sunlight actually makes him squint.

...maybe he has been cooped up too long.

Mentally preparing himself for the glances, gawking, and glowers, Sasuke follows the forming path between the lone Uchiha household...and the village proper. Thankfully it leads into quiet residential neighborhoods first, and not the noise and bustle of the village belly.

Even so, a few residents look up from their yards and their porches. He considers cheating a bit and using a henge, but...that largely defeats the purpose. Instead, he ignores the eyes on him and just...keeps going, winding his way around the quieter parts of the village.

Hi no Kuni is just on the brink of tumbling from Autumn into Winter, a definite chill in the air. Mulling over the fact that it will be snowing soon, Sasuke almost misses a soft inquiry of his name.

“...Sasuke-kun?”

Stopping a full pace later, he blinks before turning. There’d been a subconscious tightening of his muscles at his name and the suffix, fearing Sakura. But the tone was too soft, too gentle to be her demanding bark for attention. Instead, he sees someone he admittedly almost forgot existed: Hyūga Hinata. One of his classmates from back in the day. But despite her aging since he last even looked her way, he never forgets a face. “...Hyūga,” he offers in reply.

At his acknowledgement, she steps a bit closer. Her outfit is accented by a long coat and a scarf. “...sorry, I…” A pause. “...at first, I...wasn’t sure it was you. I haven’t seen you much since the end of the war.”

You haven’t seen me at all, he wants to counter, but thinks better of it. She’s just trying to be polite in addressing his complete ghosting. “I’ve been staying home a lot.”

“...I see. Going for a walk…?”

“Though I’d get some fresh air.” The meaningless small talk is slowly bringing an itch in the back of his mind, demanding he leave. But this is what Shisui was talking about: dipping his toes back in. And who better than someone he barely remembers, let alone has any reason to detest?

At his reply, she smiles. “It does a person good,” is her agreement. “I was just on my way back from visiting Tenten-chan. She lives out here, in the residential district.”

...he’s not sure what to say to that. “...I see.”

“...I…” Another pause - is she always so hesitant when speaking? “...forgive me if this is a little, um...forward, Sasuke-kun. But aren’t you...cold?”

He blinks. In truth he did completely skip over any preparation for his little outing, too engrossed in Shisui’s nagging. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I have a spare -?”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

His blunt, almost callous reply earns a flinch back, clearly not expecting it. And for some reason, Sasuke finds himself immediately regretting it...but unsure how to take it back.

“...o-okay. Um...well, I...guess I’ll leave you to your walk.” Somehow, her voice seems even softer, almost...sad? “Have...have a good afternoon, Sasuke-kun.”

He grimaces as she walks past him. Fix this, idiot! “Hyūga.”

She pauses, glancing back.

For a long moment, jaw clenched, Sasuke battles with himself over what to do. And to her credit, Hinata waits patiently, if not without a fair share of confusion. “...I...wasn’t snapping at you.”

Large, pale eyes blink. “...I understand -”

“No, I…” He sighs, a hand running back through his hair as he thinks. “...I’m still...adjusting. And...I’m not very good at...this.” A hand gestures vaguely, not...really explaining what this is.

But Hinata seems to comprehend, brightening just a hair, turning to face him fully. “...it...must be strange,” she agrees gently. “I know we, um...we never really spoke. And I regret that. Surely being here is difficult for you, given…” She fades out, appearing unsure how much she should say. “...but I just...wanted you to know that you’re welcome here. I can’t speak for...for everyone. And maybe not everyone feels that way. But Konoha is your home, so long as...you choose it to be. And I hope things improve for you. If you need anything, please just let me know. I’d be glad to help.” She offers another smile, this one far warmer than the first.

In spite of himself, Sasuke stares at her for a long moment in genuine surprise. “...thanks,” is all he can muster in reply.

“I hope to see you around more often,” Hinata adds, hands folding at her front. “Don’t let your apprehension hold you back, Sasuke-kun. Everything is changing. And...you should be able to take part in it, too. You helped protect this chance at change, after all.” She then gives a small, polite bow. “Enjoy the rest of your walk.”

Still not sure what to say, he nods in return, watching her go. That was...not what he expected. And in a way, he can’t help but be thankful that was his first encounter: odds are anything else would have been far worse. Mulling it all over, he eventually decides to then cut his adventure short. Not very long, but...well, he wants to keep it from being ruined by anything else. And he can always have another go some other day.

...maybe he’ll have a chance to try that again and not be so...well...that.

     Blegh, still not fully caught up, but...at least falling no further behind? :’D      This is a bit random and not precisely what I was aiming for when I started, but...I think it turned out all right. I’ve never written Sasuke and Hinata’s very first encounter post-war. Ones soon after, but not the first. Not sure I got it quite how I wanted, but I mean...this is a random event drabble, not the fic itself. So I guess I can forgive it xD      One of the key things about SH to me is 1. Sasuke’s lack of interaction with Hinata pre-war, and thus having no qualms about her, and 2. Hinata’s sweet nature and what I’m sure would be understanding once she heard even the barest of details concerning what he went through...let alone everything she ends up knowing (down the road) in this story. You bet your bonnet that as a member of a large Konoha clan, and someone of import in that clan who had her own share of difficulties with both internal and external politics, she’d be one of the first to rally with Sasuke for change and justice.      But that’s just my two cents, and at 2am no less, so take them with a grain of salt :P      On that note tho it is definitely time for bed lol - thanks so much for reading, and I’ll see you next time!

[britishchick09]

help! livewatch

to kick off my beatleversary, we’re taking a look at my fellow beatle fan (aka my dad)’s fave movie from the lads... help! i’ve only seen 15 minutes of ‘a hard day’s night’ because it was a bit boring and ‘yellow submarine’ was fantastic, so i hope this falls right in between. let’s go get some help!

...why are we back to the end of return of the jedi?

sacrifice WHAT’S HAPPENING

OMG the sacrificial ring!!! :o

wait does ringo have it?

people: “ring ring ring ring!!!” john in ob-la-di-ob-da-da anthology: “a ring!”

and it goes right into ‘help!’ clever one lads ;)

the movie is in color yet this is in black and white like it’s on tv. coolio! :D

‘help’ is a bop! :D

you’d think the credits would play over them but nope :/

eyyy called it! :D

CALLED IT AGAIN!!!!!!

♫ won’t you pleeeeeease please

me!!! :D 

this guy keeps throwing darts on the screen and it’s so weird:

OMG lester like phil lester???? ;o

tribe chief: “we need to find the ring!” guy: “has nobody looked in the washbasin?” lol :D

so the guy is only finding the ring for himself and not the tribe?

cool they live at 221b! :D

lady: “still the same they was before they was!” grammar much?

pretty house! :D

JOHN YOU SNEAKY LIL BISH

he’s reading it in a hole how nice :)

george is using fake teeth to mow a lawn inside their house how epic :D

and paul is playing the organ! :D

ringo: “me finger’s stuck in the door” no rongles it’s “I HAVE THE DOOR IN ME FINGERS!!!!’

OMG RINGO SCREAM LET GO LADY!!!!!

also his hair is a hot mess

john: “that’s immature of you, son” says you

ringo thought the lady thought his fingie was a sandwhich lol :D

ooh light :o

NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! :o

ringo just fell off the bed lol :D

john sleeps in the hole lol :D

why does john have a phone in the hole lol

he’s calling george and paul who are in the other rooms WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TALK TO THEM

and all he did was say ‘hello’ JOHN YOU DORK

the guy pronounced beatle ‘bee-ah-tle’ lol :D

guy: “they all look the same!” me before a year ago today

yo like harrods the store? :o

they keep saying ‘shilling’ why

ooh title!

groovy!

ringo to john: “what was it that first attracted you to me?” WOAH LENNSTARR???? john: “you’re very polite aren’t you?” yes that’s true thanks for not making it sarcastic :)

OMG MAGNETS!!!

john: “ah HA HA!!!!” op there’s the sarcastic bish!

two lads walking 0.2 feet apart in a 2 BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT BI!!!!

why are ringo and john saying the same things at the same time chaotic lads!

john: “what’s the matter?” ringo: “oh there’s no matter. OW OW OWWW!!!!” i think there’s a matter....

‘65 beatle girls: *swoon!!*

also don’t tell the lady she sucked up the wrong hand...

WELL THAT ESCALATED FAST

george keeps going ‘oh ho ho ho!!!” and i love it :D

they’re playing ‘you’re gonna lose that girl!’ :D

and it goes from not as clear film audio to clear recording audio which is weird

cool shot! :D (and beatle girls probably thought this was so hot)

ringo cig WHY

they have to do it again WHY IT WAS PERFECT

awww ringo’s dancing a bit :)

OMG :o

john: “you naughty boy!” don’t say that plz why :/

OMG THIS GUY’S GONNA CHAINSHAW WINGO :(((((

lady: “please flee!!!” ringo: “ok” lol :D

indian music! (you think this is how george started liking it?)

they’re seeking enlightenment! :D

ringo: “does this ring mean anything from you?” british guy: “freemason?” senpai wants your number

george is asking everyone if the blood rushes to them lol :D

OMG SOMEONE’S KILLING EVERYONE

guy: “could you pick this up for me please?” *knocks the chef out rapunzel style* lol :D

awww the lady wants to save ringo!

lady: “that’s the sacred ring!” paul: “say no more!” lady: “i can say no more!” lol :D

awww ringo is john’s best friend :)

oh no they have until 5 until a new victim is closing! :o

why is there a ticket in the soup

ringo: “that’s a season ticket!” john: “i love me a good seasoning” *puts it back in his soup* lol :D

ringo: “i got it from this eastern bird... lady” ;)

ringo can’t take the ring off!

george *about his soup*: “there’s footprints in here!” wut

THINGS ESCALATE SO QUICKLY IN THIS MOVIE!!!!

jeweler: “some problems are matrimonial” john: “eh heh heh” ;)

john wtf

the ring can’t be cut and it’s breaking the tools like rapunzel’s hair! :o

john: “you’re a failure, aren’t you scientist?” shut up plz

scientist: “voltage, up, up!” paul: “up up up up!!!” awww :)

scientist: “made in america you see!” john: “this is english” lol :D

john: “how do you feel?” ringo: “i used to use me hands” john: “he used to use his hands” lol :D

OMG I REMEMBER SEEING THAT WHEN I WAS A BABY FAN!!!!!

paulie likes it ;)

oh no the lady has a gun!! :o

the ‘brain drain’!

beatle logic: sing a song back home ALTHOUGH THEY SHOULD PROBABLY BE TAKING CARE OF THIS SERIOUS RING PROBLEM????

it’s ‘you’ve got to hide your love away’ so that’s cool :D

she’s not impressed :/ (but i am!)

john said the lady had ‘filthy eastern ways’ SHUT UP JAWN >:(

the lady wants ringo to shrink his fingo! :o

wait what

ooh intermission! :D

this is so random lol :D

PART 2 WAS JUST A LADY WASHING SOMEONE WTF WHY

that was random af and very family guy!

ringo’s allergic to penicillin like my mom! :D

OMG THE BAD GUYS ARE ATTACKING!!!!!!

my fave show! :D

JOHN IS ATTACKING IN THE HOLE ATTACK IN THE HOLE!!!!!

aww finger guns! :D

ringo’s crying at his suit having red all over :(

WHY IS THIS FIGHT SO CHAOTIC

ringo: “how can i get the ring off with me hands held up?” lol :D

ringo has a voice crack when he said ‘look!” :D

JOHN GON KILL U!!!!

john’s ‘get out’ is so good omg :D

oh no the scientists really want the ring now! :o

they’re in the snow for ‘ticket to ride’!!! :D

me lol :D

what a giffable shot! :D

:D

ooh music notes! :D

penny lane much? ;)

oh no the guys are watching them... ;)

the lads are saying ‘oh ho ho ho’ WHAT HIGH DORKS

OMG RINGO!!!!!!

he says ‘ouch ouch ouch’ when rolling down the snow lol :D

*OH HO HOS INTENSIFY*

evil snowman... >:)

the bad guys have a curling bomb and one of them keeps saying everything he does lol :D

george: “hey it’s thingie! a fiendish thingie!!” lol :D

guy: “useless! what rubbish!” *THINGIE BLOWS UP A SECOND LATER* lol :D

snowman battle! :o

guy: “in the name of kindness, stop! stop!” the lads: *don’t stop*

HOLY FRICK THEY’RE BEING FLAMETHROWERED

paul running into john at the train station... ;)

ooh sherlock holmes reference!!!!!! :D

:)

ringo: “they have a different religion... i think” lol :D

the scotland guy is mimicking ringo and ringo’s not impressed lol :D

why are the bad guys playing indian music in the phone booth WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE

999 is 911! :D

OMG IT’S MY FAVE HELP SONG ‘I NEED YOU’!!!!! :D

wowza editing in person! :o

paperback writer much? ;)

:D

‘she’s a woman’ from past masters is playing on a walkie talkie! :D

the chief thinks it’s shocking and hates it lol

chief: “take this hastily scribbled note hastily!” lol :D

motorcycle go brrrr

guy: “they shall not pass!” gandolf who

‘the night before is playing!!!! :D

:D

what a cool shot!

‘she’s a woman’ interrupted it no!!!! :/

OMG TNT

good ‘night before’ is back! :D

the lip syncing was kinda off tho

the bad guys are in camoflage and it’s like we’re in ww1!

the song ends ON A BIG AF EXPLOSION WTF

OMG THEY’RE USING MACHINE GUNS THIS IS SERIOUSLY WW1 NOW TH  FRICK

i came here to watch beatles NOT THE WAR

oh no john fell! :o

ringo: “get up johnny! get up for me, baby!” lennstarr tho ;)

so many explosions I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS

guy: “MISSED you naughty boys!!!” ...plz dont call them that :/

victory music is playing did the bad guys win???

wtf is going on THIS ISN’T THE GREAT WAR IT’S THE HELP! WAR

buckingham??? :0

i swear if john is in nothing but a sheet-

not your lockie’s palace ;)

ringo: “IT APPEARS i need one card. IT APPEARS i need to chuck one in” IT APPEARS that you need to emphasize that for some reason...

them playing cards is so domestic :)

ringo: “i don’t just use my drumstick for drummin’” paul: “well what else is it for?” ringo: “i use it!” OH GOD WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT RONGLES

john: “we’re risking our lives for the most useless member!” is that fingo or ringo

ringo: “let that be an end to it, END TO IT” same ringo

omg the palace is haunted! :o

OMG QUEEN REFERENCE???

OMG SOMEONE’S SHOOTING

the guards are tripping over each other!

the scientists are the guards!!!! :o

they made time slow down! :o

someone sprayed that red paint and the lads yeeted out of there! :o

they’re in a bar DRINK DRINK DRINK EVERYBOOODY!!!!”

paul to ringo: “you’re a rat underneath aren’t you?” OHHHHH ROASTED!!!!!

paul used to wink at paul... mcharrison has sailed! :D

OMG TIGER ROAR WHAT

ringo’s alone with it no! :o

thanks for the clarification?

lady to ringo: “don’t move!” ringo to ‘a tiger’: “don’t move, that’s what she said!” lol :D

why is she whistling the 9th symphony

they’re all singing it to make the tiger calm and ringo’s like “ok!!”

A WHOLE CROWD IS SINGING IT WHAT

this is legit abbey road! :o

ooh bahamas!

i love how george is taking pics of everything :D

i didn’t think cameras sounded like static back then tho...

oh no THE CHIEF IS THERE TOO!!!!! :o

BOI WHY DID HE SLAP A GUY

no the scientist is there too! :o

prepare for the beatle bahamas battle lads...

idk what pc is but they all the soldiers all named that

ooh ‘another girl’! :D

i heard it was cold when the lads filmed the movie so rip to their arms :/

CAKE

so much purple! :o

hey john! :D

george: “let’s play a game it’s called peep peep peep peep-“ yup THEY SO INCREDIBLY HIIIGHHHH

THEY’RE SAYING ‘OH HO HO HO’ AGAIN WHY

the lady said ringo’s getting ‘disembowled’ and john’s like “keeps ye busy eh?” like the lil’ bish he is

ringo: “i don’t want to knock anyone’s religion but-” *runs away*

bike lads! :D

they keep saying ‘let’s go back and get ‘em!” yep they hiiiigh

a triumphant one of ‘i’m so happy to dance with you’ is playing!! :D

OMG ONE OF THE BAD GUYS IS SKYDIVING

wtf bro

paul’s explaining things cryptically and george is like ‘why tho’

:D

paul: “there’s the temple and that swimming pool and... i’m lost” lol :D

ringo: “read on” B)

OMG ISSA TRAP!!!!

george: “typical!” lol :D

WHAT DOES ‘KAILI’ MEAN

RINGO GO UNDER!!

omg he’s in the orange blanket! :o

ringo: “HEEEEELP!!! help me!!!” title drop roll credits! :D

dere he is! :D

i remember seeing that before i was a fan and thinking it wasn’t beatles lol

john: “he’s got a plan” paul: “a really famous plan!” john: “a plan superintendent...” superintendent: “you see i’ve got a plan!” ...i think he has a plan

:D

OMG ‘HARD DAY’S NIGHT’ IS PLAYING SO TRIUMPHANTLY

the plan is baseball?

#spon

smoooosh

everyone’s calling for ringo and george is beating his chest lol :D

THE SCIENTISTS GOT WINGO NOOOOOO

scientist: “dust in the generator. gets everywhere” and it’s rough & coarse too...

the lady is saving ringo!

the scientist doesn’t need the ring now that he has...’nobel prize juice’?”

they keep saying ‘eastern’ as the language.... :/

ringo: “i can’t swim!” lady: “what do you mean you can’t swim?” he means HE CAN’T SWIM LADY!!!!

oh no THE SACRIFICE!!!!

the sacrifice involves a horrible, inaccessible name... voldemort?

he’s free!!!! :D

ringo: “i don’t subscribe to your religion!” lol :D

‘help’ is playing again! :D

and the chief has the ring now... >:)

;D

...what does that have to do with anything tho

and with the trippy credits came the end of the movie! the only help i’ll be needing is why it was more weird than yellow sub but i had such a fun time with it (especially the snow scene and ‘i need you’)! what a great movie! :D

[theoscout]

Part 1 of 2

@bornoffireandwisdom

He kicked it again. It merely slumped to its side. The bitter cold had dampened his smell, but the stench of blood hung in his supersensitive nasals and throat like drenched wool. His grief having subsided, he began to work his fingers into its skull. He did not know why he did this. But the food always came easier when there was already a mark to pry open. Red ooze and pale, slushier parts caked his fingernails and sank their way into the crevices of wrinkles on his hands, highlighting them. He finally abandoned the idea of saving the cleanliness of at least one hand, lest the inexplicably precious trinket lost to him should appear again as miraculously as his food. His teeth stripping at the corpse's skin, the memory soon passed from his head.

*** The blizzard had calmed a while ago, but that did little to raise the temperature around them. Like the windscreen of a car on a cold day, Bertrum's line of sight was obscured behind the clouds of breath condensing every time he paused his unsteady march to regain his energy. "How far away till the next house?" "Not long now, it's up on that hill ahead." Lacie stopped beside him to lend him a hand. While they no longer faced the threat of screaming gales and biting frost, the snowstorm had brought with it another layer to the already deep drifts of snow, both on and off path. The city, before the fall, had always irritated him with its ceaseless barrage of lights and sound. Now there was nothing he wished for more than a brick path which had been swept clean of the smothering snow gathering there. "If he's not in this house either, I guess we can always check for supplies," Lacie offered hopefully. Too out of breath to seriously consider a reply, Bertrum nodded silently, then bent to brush away the particles crusting the fringes of his pants. Even if the walk wasn't an easy one, they could be grateful for being well protected.

Though kilometers of travel had proven unyielding of outcome, they pressed on. Searching the houses by now had become a routine, although finding one suitable for shelter was proving to be a different matter. As per basic outbreak survival protocols, most houses they found were locked and barred securely from the inside, their original occupants likely having fled, or worse. None of which were percieved to house any living creatures, aside from the occasional scuffle of sheltering rats and other scavengers fleeing from their attacks on the front door. If Grant isn't in this one, Bertrum thought with increasing cynicism, we're going home and waiting to find him instead. Still, there were still flickering dots of hope relighting with each house they visited. After all, how far could a young wounded zombie travel, especially in such weather conditions.

"Think it could be this one?" Bertrum raised his head from when he had been bending over wheezing, and made an attempt to straighten his posture. "Jesus christ, look at that door..." Something had torn the hinges off this one. From what details he could make out from afar, behind the snow caking its roof and piling against the walls it appeared to have withstood some severe neglect. Cavities in the snow drift indicated a smashed window, and long dead creeper vines were in the process of curling their way up the brick walls with faded grafetti. The damage could have been done before the apocalypse, yet even from a distance the lack of snow beyond the threshold compared to the drifts by the door gave away at its recentness. "I dunno Lacie," he began. "I can't tell if the door was locked or not, otherwise he wouldn't have found this way in. And he's not strong enough to break down a door that's been barred." At least he hoped* Grant wasn't strong enough. Lacie nodded in rejection of the alternative implication. The door was within distance for a more detailed examination. Bertrum ignored the ache in his legs and waded forward until he was able to lean one hand against the flaking, frosted over wall. Finally able to take at least some* pressure off his legs, he peered closely at this mess. "On second thoughts, this doesn't look like him. That's some pretty jagged edge in the piece we got here-" Lacie huffed as she pried a piece of the door from where snow had begun to bury it, "Sharp stuff is what makes the edge. Not hands." " Then I assume this was done by a roving survivor." Bertrum hid his breathless exhaustion with some difficulty. "Some angry nut this guy musta been. Put a bunch of holes in the centre for no reason, ice pick probably. Reckon it musta been loud enough to wake the dead, eh?" She chuckled sadly at her little quip, but abruptly Bertrum's gaze was fixed on something she could not see. Narrowing his eyes, he swiftly and firmly brought his finger to his lips and mouthed for silence. "What?" Lacie whispered. She raised her head, following his stare, backing out of the doorway for more accuracy in angle.

All but one of the windows were shattered, some with fractures looking as though they had been made by the rocks of many a roving vandal, others by the unfavorable weather and the constant change of the decaying house. But where glass remained, a creature would be likelier to seek shelter against the chill winds. She saw the results plastered against what was left intact.

Blood. Against the glass, almost floating in midair. Tiny flecks of blood crusted the bottom right corner of one upstairs window.

"Oh... oh no..."

Very slowly and deliberately, Bertrum laid a frail hand on the what remained of the door and pushed. It slid inwards without a creak, almost as if by miracle something had silenced its rusty hinges. He turned grimly back to Lacie, and they shared a nod. Carefully lifting their feet out of the snow, over the threshold as slowly as time could allow them, they pulled out their torches and turned them on. The only noise being the sigh of the dusk breeze and the near inaudible ruffle of their own clothes per movement. And upstairs, there came the faintest of rustling. Time seemed to hang suspended in the still air, no longer as musty or stale as an enclosed house would bring.

And as their eyes scanned the floor for disturbances to their stealthy entrance, they saw a strange pattern formed in the dust on the tiles. It appeared that once, a large amount of liquid had been spilled there. Although on closer inspection it certainly was not water. It had pushed aside a lot of dust, the leftover ripples forming dark marks where they did not tread. Splattermarks, and the remnants prints of snow boots they did not recognise. Puddles had once pooled here, flecks of liquid having hit the walls in their force. But the absence of any stain was not the strangest part. There was a spot on the ground where the dust appeared to have coalesced, forming an almost torso-like imprint surrounded by thousands of thin threads of gossamer. The lines appeared to transcend the laws of physics, flowing along the ground to this point. Ignoring various indentations and surfaces in a tiled surface beginning to buckle, perfectly straight lines which at some point became far too complex and needless to be done by hand. Yet.. if not by hand, then left by what?

A creak in the floorboards above, undoubtedly spurred by motion, and Bertrum flicked his torch up just in time to catch a puff of plaster dust rolling from some unseen crack. Pound pound pound, they heard it begin to run. "Oh god-"

Disregarding the floor patterns, the two leapt out from the doorway and back outside.

Her hand against the doorknob before she even realised. It was just as well they had moved out the way, as from above there came a dreadful* howl. Lacie readied herself against the door as the scuffling, growling *thing* flung itself down the stairs and galloped at them on all fours. They watched its silhouette blunder across the room, and for a precious moment the light of an adjacent window, if only for an instance, the face it belonged to. Lacie threw herself against the door and Bertrum did the same, shutting it so explosively the foundations of the house seemed to resonate with the bang. Behind the wooden frame, the thing screamed and clawed in futility. But there were no more strange sounds, no more hidden menaces. If this one had company, they would have attacked together. They were in another room, and thankfully one with a window. There was no furniture to block the door with, but seeing a section of the doorframe splintering aaway gave Lacie an idea. Still leaning as much as she could against the door, she took off her scarf, wrapped it around the doorknob and then jammed the other loop under the lifting piece of wood. Fastening the knot as tightly as she could, she silently motioned for Bertrum to back away. The door hold shuddered but held firm. They edged their way accross the room and carefully scaled through the empty window, keeping an eye on the woods for any lurking silhouettes. "What do we do?" whispered Lacie, in a volume only slightly above the desolate wind. "I wouldn't know yet, dear. Did you see his face?" "It was Grant, I'm almost certain. Jeepers creepers, look at how aggressive he's gotten! Downright possessed if you'd ask me! The hells gotten into him?" "I may need to ponder this for a moment..." Bertrum turned away and kept an eye on the woods. "Oh come on," interrupted Lacie, "If we don't hurry he's bound to get away or somethin. The door's wide open and what if he realises we're not behind the door anymore?" Instinctively they both moved out of sight from the entrance, just in case. "Well I certainly wouldn't like placing you in such dire threats again," Bertrum mused. "But certainly there exists a method which defers from the questionable safety you seem keen on?" "You do you, but II'm not letting him escape again! Not on my watch. I see your armor still works-" Without waiting for a reaction, she jogged the perimeter of the house. "Hey!" Bertrum called, but she had already gone. He shook his head and ran after her.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

The Littlest Winchester

Part 1 - A Winchester is Born

Pairing: Dad!Dean x OC!Daughter!Reader (Sapphire)

Mobile Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: In a series of quick flashforwards we see Dean going through fatherhood. The mother, who is unknown drops the baby off at Bobby Singer’s house of all places, leaves a note for Dean.

Takes place during Seasons 4 - 8.

[A/N: In this part, these are flash forwards from birth to about age 4, mentioned in the story would be hunts, diapers, a one night stand similar to Season 7 with the Amazonians [I don’t remember exactly what they’re called], only she’s human in this fic, and so’s Dean’s daughter.]

[a/n #2: This is my first (kind of) dad!dean x daughter!oc!reader fic, I first touched base in it in my Down the Rabbit Hole Series (in one of my many, many, many versions), read a doze of them, and now I’m hooked, so please, feedback would greatly be appreciated.]

~

It was the sound of a baby’s crying that caught his attention.

No one did even think to knock, she probably wouldn’t be fast enough to evade Bobby and his array of questions he’d have for her.

Bobby opens his front door to see a baby’s blanketed basket with a note pinned to it. Bobby looks around his yard, see’s no one, not even hearing a car racing off.

He picks up the basket and brings her inside. Takes a peak at the note.

Dean, is written in all caps on the top of the letter.

“Dean!” Bobby calls out from his study.

They had just gotten back from a case, after learning who actually yanked Dean out of Hell, where Sam had been for the past 4 months, Dean spent most of his days out in the yard. Either cleaning his Impala or fixing up a random car just to let off steam.

When he didn’t respond, Bobby searched for Dean. Finding him in the garage.

“Dean.” Bobby says, getting closer to Dean. He was laying on a creeper under a car changing oil. But Bobby wasn’t patient enough. So with a foot on the creeper he pulls Dean out from under the car.

“What the hell Bobby?” Dean scoffed.

“I’ve been calling for you, now, come with me.” Bobby says. Walking off before Dean could object.

Dean can hear the baby’s cries from Bobby’s study.

Bobby hands Dean the letter.

Dean,

Not sure if you remember. You probably don’t, but if the name Kristi doesn’t ring any bells to you then you deserve to know this. You needed to let off steam at the roadhouse I was working at just outside of Dallas, you gave me a night to remember. But I guess I was another one night stand to you. I was a virgin you ass. And you knocked me up, I’m not ready for kids, hell I don’t want kids. Why do you think I work in a roadhouse to  begin with? 

I found out I was pregnant some time in May of last year. She was born September 18th, 2008. I did not name her, I did not want her. I told the hospital people that I was giving her to her father. You, Dean, are her father, you have full custody of her. I want no part of being a mother.

Have a nice life Dean Singer

              - Kristi

The name didn’t ring any bells, but Dallas did. The night Dean couldn’t remember was a night after a rough hunt, Sam was still hell bent on getting Dean off of his contract. She was born the day he came back from Hell.

Not sure how she found him, but the baby was no Dean’s responsibility.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Sam asked, having walked in at some point while Dean was reading his letter.

“I don’t know Sam.” Dean grumbles.

He didn’t want to raise her in this life. But knowing he’s a dad to his own child, a daughter no less. He didn’t want to give her up. Someone’s gonna know who she is just by looking at her.

-

“Dean, shut her up please!” Sam shouted.

“I’m trying, she’s been fed, I don’t know what else she could possibly want!” Dean shouted back.

The poor baby had been crying for what seemed like hours, but really it’s been about 15 minutes or so.

“Come on baby girl, don’t be like that.” Dean tried to soothe her.

“Maybe she needs a diaper change.” Bobby suggested.

“Oh god.” Sam goes.

Dean just looked up at Bobby and Sam in horror and with pleading eyes.

“Don’t worry son, it’s easy.” Bobby says.

-

“What’ll you name her?” Sam asked later that night.

“I don’t know, I like Mary but that was mom’s name.” Dean says.

Dean held her as he paced Bobby’s study, thinking of a good name.

Until she stirred, opening her eyes to him revealing such unique iris’s. He see’s his green color but also see’s blue. His green is outlining the rim of the iris while the deep ocean blue fills the center.

“Sapphire.” He says.

“What?” Sam goes.

“Her eyes, they’re blue…plus I see green…but the blue is like a sapphire blue.” He says.

“That’d be a pretty name, plus Sapphire is September’s birthstone.” Sam says.

“Sapphire then, her name is Sapphire.” Dean says.

“Next hard part, middle name.” Sam says. Dean rolls his eyes with a groan.

“Still with blue, how about sky.” Dean says.

“But spelled fancy. How about S-K-Y-E?” Sam says.

“Sapphire Skye Winchester.” Dean says out loud.

“Eh, not bad, her name has meaning though.” Sam says.

“Yeah it does.” Dean goes, looking down, admiring his daughter in his arms.

She smiles at him, reaches for his face. Choking Dean up.

She knows her daddy. He thought.

“Hey Blue, yea I’m your daddy.” He tells her.

-

First words. Took Dean by surprise.

He stayed home while Sam and Bobby worked a case out of Louisiana.

“Da!” she shouts. Dean whipped his head towards her with a deer in headlights look. Shocked.

“What was that?” he asks. Walking over to her high chair.

“Da! Dada!” she says. Pointing at him.

He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, tears formed in his eyes.

This is what it feels like? He thought.

“Yeah that’s right, I’m your dad.” He says. With an ear to ear grin.

And she went back to making raspberry noises with her lips, spraying spit everywhere. Only making him smile more.

I thought I would miss this, thank god I didn’t. Dean thought.

-

“Dean!” Sam shouted. “Get down here!”

Dean hurried from bed, Sam had gotten his little niece up early to eat when he noticed something. He sat her in Bobby’s study, and she had walked, on her own, to him in the kitchen, which is not very far.

Dean entered the study to find Sam holding on to her little hands.

“Go on, walk to daddy.” Sam says to her.

She turns to face him with a smile, excited to see her dad. And she slowly walks over to him.

He kneels down to her level, hold out his hands. “Come here baby, you can do it.” he encourages her.

She’d fall to her hands and knees, stumble again after a few more steps. Then in arm’s length she lets herself fall into Dean’s hands. Picking her up, holding her up in the air in celebration.

“You did it baby girl!” Dean shouted.

“What is going on down here.” Bobby grumbled.

Entering the study with the boys.

“Walk to Uncle Bobby sweetheart, you can do it.” Dean says, gently placing her on her feet.

And she slowly walked to her uncle, who smiled at her growth and progress.

And just like what she did with Dean, she did with Bobby. She let herself fall into Bobby’s hands, and he picks her up.

“You did it princess!” Bobby goes, smiling.

It’s little moments, the firsts, that make everyone whole again.

Human again.

-

“Happy birthday to you!” the small family sang In the bunker’s kitchen.

“Happy birthday dear Sapphire! Happy birthday to you!” they sang.

She closes her eyes to make a wish.

And she blows out four lit candles.

“What’d you wish for?” Sam asked.

“Can’t tell or it won’t come true Uncle Sammy.” She giggles.

Sam playfully shrugs, the kind that reads ‘okay fine, if you say so’.

“Alright, lets have some cake!” Jody announces.

“Uncle Sammy.” She shakes Sam’s arm.

“What is it princess?” Sam asked, kneeling to her level.

“When’s Daddy coming home?” She asked.

“Well, he told me he was getting a very special present for a very special birthday girl.” Sam says.

She lights up. “Presents.” She goes.

“Yes, so, lets be patient and wait. I’m sure he’ll call to let me know when it’s done.” Sam says.

After cake and ice cream, Dean sent out the text to Sam. Her present is ready.

“Okay, time for presents.” Sam announces.

Jody gave her some new clothes, and a new doll from build a bear.

Garth got her some dolls from build a bear as well. One even being the exact same one Jody got her.

Kevin got her a children’s book, Stellaluna.

Sam got her another children’s book, The Teacher from the Black Lagoon and Where the Wild Things Are.

All books Dean can read to her.

He enters the library where they opened presents.

“Daddy!” she shouted, hopping out of the chair and into Dean’s arms.

“Hey there birthday girl, ready for my present?” he asked.

She gasped with a  smile. “Yeah!” she shouts.

“Okay, follow me.” He tells her.

She does, she follows him down the hallway. They stood outside a room, that was once used for storage.

“Whenever your ready sweetheart.” Dean says.

She opens to door eagerly, walking into to a princess’s dream bedroom.

She had beanbag chairs, too oversized for her, in a corner of the room where a small TV sat, along with a DVD player. Her small bookshelf her uncle Sammy installed when they first moved to the bunker and gave her some of their favorite children’s books when they were kids. A ‘big girl’ bed, no longer in the toddler bed in Dean’s room, she now has her own room, her own space. Pink and purple accents littered the room.

She squeals happily.

“I love it Daddy, I love it.” she screams, clapping and jumping up and down.

Then running to her dad, giving him a hug.

“Happy Birthday Blue.” He says.

“Thank you daddy.” She says.

~

Feedback please! Need to know if I should keep posting some of these up. ASK/REBLOG OR COMMENT.

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 01/05/20

[beckzorz]

Pizza Night (one-shot)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Words: 1967 Summary: What makes this pizza night different from all other pizza nights? A/N: Happy holidays ;-) Something of a companion piece to Snowed In (thematically, anyway). Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think.

The third Sunday of every month is pizza night at the compound. Tony gets pizza delivered straight from the city, usually from a different place every month, for absolutely everyone—janitors, Avengers, programmers, medics, doctors, physical therapists…

And you.

Pizza night is one of your favorite traditions here. It’s less classy than the cocktail party-type get-togethers that Tony likes to throw; no mixed drinks, just water, soda, and beer for those inclined. And yes, you do like getting dressed up once in a while, but there’s effort involved, and your job is enough work, thank you very much.

Unwinding without expectations is nice.

Also, pizza.

—

“Hi Paul!” You slide into the passenger seat of your neighbor’s car and tuck your shopping bag between your feet. “Thanks so much for the ride.”

“No problem,” Paul says. He pulls away from the curb and drives towards the compound. “It’s literally five houses out of my way.”

“Yes, but still.” It’s cloudy but warm, so you open the window and let your hand dangle, catching the wind between your fingers. “How’s it feel to have tax season over?”

Paul groans in relief. “Oh my god, like freedom herself came and blessed me with those lottery days off last week.”

You laugh. Most accountants are dull as the grave, but Paul’s pretty funny, all things considered.

“What’s in the bag?” he asks.

“Oh…” You shift a little in your seat. “Just some stuff for tonight.”

“Fun,” he says.

“Mm.”

Your noncommittal answer doesn’t lead to a reply, and Paul turns on NPR. All Things Considered is good as far as radio shows go, but tonight your mind is wandering.

Pizza night’s going to be a little different this time around, and the thought of standing out makes your heart squeeze painfully. You’ve only been at this job long enough to take part in five, maybe six pizza nights, and you’re just starting to feel comfortable enough to make some waves. A suggestion for implementing a new project, a few more personal effects by your desk… It’s all gone well, but tonight?

You’re not sure.

It’s another fifteen minutes before you and Paul flash your security badges to the gate guard. There’s already a bunch of cars in the front lot—no surprise; the compound runs 24/7. Paul squeezes into a spot between two SUVs, and you suck in your breath to slip out of the car with your bag.

The second you walk into the right building, your mouth starts to water. You can smell it all—the bakery smell of the crust, the gooey cheese, the garlic. Even the tang of pepperoni, which you don’t eat.

It smells like a greasy pizzeria, replete with checkered tables and silvery napkin holders and rotating countertop displays with slices waiting to be shucked onto paper plates. It smells like a hole-in-the-wall with a gruff chef whose mouth would give Gordon Ramsay a run for his money. It smells like the kind of place you don’t wear white to.

It smells like heaven.

“Fuck,” you mutter, and Paul chuckles beside you.

“Eager, huh?”

“Not exactly.” You shift your bag to your other hand and try to keep your breathing steady.

Paul gives you a funny look, but he doesn’t push as you both climb up the lobby stairs to the lounge. He nods at you and makes a beeline straight for the buffet table. You don’t follow quite yet.

You pause by the top of the stairs as you take it all in. Maybe it’s a little cliché, but you still can’t quite believe your luck. How many people can say they work with superheros? Eat pizza with superheros? Sure, some of them are away right now—it’s Easter today, after all—but there are still plenty here tonight. Steve Rogers, of course, and his cute friend Bucky Barnes. Natasha Romanoff, Vision, Wanda Maximoff. Plenty of people.

Someone bumps into you, and you tighten your grip on your bag and make your way to the kitchen. It’s commercial-sized, with an oven the size of a closet full of oozing pizzas waiting to replace the ones on the buffet. You pause in front of it, gazing longingly at the rotating rack of pies, before one of the outside waitstaff ushers you aside.

You snag a plate from a cabinet and a spoon from a drawer. With a heavy heart, you open your shopping bag. Out comes a box, a bag of shredded mozzarella, a glass jar of marinara sauce. You carefully spread the sauce and sprinkle the cheese. Sixty-six seconds in the microwave, and you sigh as you pull the warm plate out.

“What’s that?”

You jump out of your skin. Natasha Romanoff is at your elbow, eyeing your plate curiously.

“Oh, uh, hi, Natasha.” You shift your weight, cheeks hot. “It’s matzah pizza.”

“Oh right,” Natasha says. “It’s Passover, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” You force a smile and squeeze by her to get back to the lounge, but she sticks to you.

“Isn’t all this—” she gestures to the pizza buffet as you pass by— “awfully tempting?”

You snort. “Of course! And it’s only day two.”

“Eight days?”

“Outside of Israel, yup.”

“And no bread?”

“No bread, no cake, no pasta—well, no normal pasta, anyway—no cereal, no oatmeal, no beer, no cookies,” you rattle off. “And I’m sure I’m missing something.”

Natasha puts a hand on your arm and leads to the couch she usually shares with some of the other Avengers. You sit down, head swimming with surprise. You usually hang out with coworkers from your department, not… the department.

Still, you do your best to smile at Steve, who’s next to you.

“How are—oh,” he says. He blinks at your pizza, then looks back at you with a sympathetic wince. “You’re brave.”

“I would go with masochistic before brave,” you reply. You take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut for the briefest moment before you pull yourself together. A bite of matzah pizza does nothing to resolve the craving for real pizza. “This is hell.”

Steve chuckles. “So why’d you come?”

“Yeah, seriously,” Natasha chimes in. She’s perched on the arm of the couch beside you, a half-eaten slice of pizza folded in her hand.

“Eh, pizza night’s my favorite thing we have here,” you say. “It’s nice to hang out without having to think about work, you know?”

“Fair enough.”

“Bucky,” Natasha says suddenly, amusement dripping from her tone, “you look like a fish.”

You turn to look up at Bucky. His eyes are glued to your plate. To your pizza. He snaps his mouth shut and swallows, glancing down at his own plate. He’s got two big pieces of pepperoni pizza, one piled on top of the other.

“Something wrong, Buck?” Steve asks.

“No,” Bucky says, but you don’t buy it for a second.

Based on their raised eyebrows, neither do Natasha and Steve. Bucky nudges Steve’s leg with his boot, and Steve shifts over as much as he can.

Bucky sits down next to you, his thigh pressed against yours. He discards his pizza on the coffee table and sits back, still looking at your plate. Your mouth suddenly goes dry, pizza smell be damned. So close to Bucky, you’ve caught whiff of something a million times more intoxicating. He smells intoxicating, all heady and exhilarating and distinctively unique.

Greasy pizzeria as heaven?

No, heaven is sitting next to Bucky Barnes, his solid thigh against yours and his hand brushing your arm from where it’s slung on the back of the couch.

“You know,” he says, voice small and almost faraway, “the missions used to come to the front for Passover.”

You blink. Bucky is still looking at the matzah pizza on your plate.

“The front? You mean, during World War II?” you ask.

“Yeah.” His eyes flit to yours, his lips quirking up just enough to set your heart beating a little faster. “Those seders were the best part of the year.”

You gape. It can’t be attractive, but—Bucky Barnes is Jewish? Like you? It’s impossible.

“I don’t remember any,” Steve says. “What about ‘44?”

“Eh, by the time you came along, we had other things to do,” Bucky tells Steve, but he’s still facing you. He lowers his voice, ducks his head a little as his gaze tightens on yours. “Can I—did you bring that?”

You nod, thoroughly speechless.

“Can I have one?”

“Just one?” Natasha teases. You huff a little, half amused, half offended on Bucky’s behalf, but he’s rolling his eyes fondly.

“Of course,” you tell him. You force yourself up from the couch, left thigh cold from the loss of his leg pressed against yours. Is your face as warm as it feels? Can they all see? “Be right back.”

But Bucky jumps to his feet before you can make your escape. “You gotta show me how,” he says. He puts a hand on the small of your back and guides you through the crowd to the kitchen, greeting some of the waitstaff by name.

You’re not just speechless now; you’re breathless. His hand on your back, with just a thin shirt between his metal hand and your skin. His rich baritone, the gentle smile you can see out of the corner of your eye if you turn your head just a little.

Out comes the matzah, the sauce, the cheese. Bucky grabs a fresh plate and watches with careful focus as you assemble a matzah pizza for him.

“Can I do more cheese?” he asks.

“Eh, you could, but if you do too much it gets soggy.”

“Fair.”

You stand side-by-side in front of the microwave as you punch in sixty-six seconds. The microwave comes on with a whoosh.

“So,” Bucky says. “I didn’t know you were Jewish.”

Your lips twitch. “Bucky, I don’t think we’ve exchanged more than half a dozen words before tonight.” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he purses his lips in reluctant agreement. “But I didn’t know you were. And we learned about you all in school!”

“Well, my mom was. We didn’t practice or anything.” He tucks his hair behind his ear. “Not like you.”

“Everyone does it differently,” you say. “It’s all about what works for you.”

The microwave beeps, and Bucky pulls the plate out. “I haven’t really thought about it in ages,” he says. “But…” He smiles at you, eyes crinkling. “Maybe it’s time to see what works for me now that things have changed.”

“Hear hear!” You grin back. Never mind the heat in your cheeks—Bucky is smiling. At you. Who cares if you’re blushing? “No time like the present.”

“Amen,” he says. He lifts the plate close to his face and tries a bite of matzah pizza. His expression is thoughtful by the time he swallows. “I mean, it’s not as good as the stuff out there usually is, but it’s not bad.”

“I’ll be honest, I’m going to eat a whole pizza next month,” you tell him.

“Next month?” Bucky asks through another bite.

“Next pizza night,” you clarify.

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing on his pale neck. “How long is Passover? Eight days, right?”

“Yeah…?” You tilt your head, confused.

“Forget next month. We can go for some proper pizza next Sunday. I mean—if you want?”

Bucky’s blue eyes are wide, hopeful as he looks at you. You can’t help smiling. Pizza to end Passover is an old family tradition, one you thought you’d miss out on now that you’re living so far from home. But it’s like Bucky said.

Time to see what works, now that things have changed.

“I want,” you say, and he grins back, smile as bright as the moon.

“To pizza night,” he says, lifting his matzah pizza in a toast.

You bump elbows with him, heart soaring. “To pizza night.”