#and every single report has just turned into a roast
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News anchor: Winning a game of hockey is easy. You just have to score more goals than the other team. Unfortunately, this is hard for the Canucks to do.
Sports anchor: Well, they do score a lot of goals. It's just that the other team scores even more.
#the valley is posting#the sports anchor then proceeded to spend five minutes further murdering them by explaining how all their stats are bottom of the league#he had a handy little slide prepared to show just how bad they are and it's not even halfway through the season#'to be fair; their power plays aren't bad. but no amount of power plays can make up for their defensive line'#love that the sports journalists have given up trying to be optimistic or hyping up the team#and every single report has just turned into a roast#me: hey dad; why is their defensive line so bad? who's on defence?#dad: i don't know. i stopped following them for my peace of mind.
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little help (oliver quick x m!reader)
plot: places after the events of saltburn, where oliver had already inherited the estate. he sees someone who caught his eye, someone who reminds him of who he was when he was younger.
a slow sunday afternoon was bestowed upon oliver's day. the usual rustle and bustle of people as they went about their day on the streets, the car honks when there was a mild amount of traffic, the cloudy season of london—everything appeared to be in order. well, except for one thing…
him.
oliver was seated in a small café, typing on his laptop as he worked on some reports for his job as a journalist. with a sip of his cold brew in hand, he took a deep breath and came to a stop. he looked at the word file he had open, the blinking of a single text line jarring. he had hit a block, not knowing what to do next. he took this moment as a sign to rest, stretching his arms outward as he let out a yawn. the feeling of his bones cracking brought him some relief. he looked around the café—no one was there except for the new barista.
ah yes, the barista. from what oliver had gathered, he was a college student, eighteen years of age, studying at oxford just like oliver had. tall, active, and most importantly—diligent and honest. and attractive, but that was beside the point.
oliver had grown intrigued by the younger man who served him coffee every day. he noticed how sweet and alluring the boy seemed, an abundance of innocence and charm surrounding his aura. the folds in his eyes when he gave that toothy grin as he greeted oliver with his coffee, wishing him a good day—it made oliver's stomach swirl with a familiar feeling he hadn’t felt in years. it seemed strange having a feeling remind him of his past, but he couldn’t help it. the college student working diligently behind the coffee bar… he reminded him of him.
young, naive, filled with curiosity and infatuation for the world yet driven—it was something oliver knew all too well.
oliver noticed that the barista was just relaxing, taking his fifteen-minute break earlier than usual. he cleared his throat to get his attention, raising his hand for the young man to see. luckily, the barista saw him and made his way over with a beaming smile. the two of them had shared a fair number of conversations, mostly casual greetings and small talk about how their days had been. they were familiar with each other, so the barista had no problem walking over to him. the barista sat down across from oliver, leaning back against the chair. "hello, mr. quick," he greeted. "hope the coffee's good. we tried new roasted beans today to see if there was a difference."
oliver let out a small bemused sigh, nodding. "it's good, y/n. i wasn't going to mention the sweeter taste until you brought it up."
oliver placed his laptop to the side of the table, resting his elbows on the wooden surface as he propped up his head. "so, how have you been? i assume you're still studying?"
y/n nodded. "yeah. uni has been a bit heavy lately. i can barely balance work and the interims i have." he let out a sigh through his nose. "but i have to do what i have to, to survive."
"what about you? how's work?" y/n asked out of curiosity.
it was oliver's turn to grunt at the mention of his job. "same old, same old. but it's getting rather… monotonous." he leaned back in his chair, mimicking y/n's stance. "journalism is about facts and objectivity, but with the whole internet spewing out rumors left and right, it's getting tiring to follow up on a story."
y/n nodded. "i get it, though i don't do journalism. reading any news article nowadays feels like a double-edged sword," he muttered. "i wouldn't blame you if you wanted to take a break. i'd certainly do so if i could afford it."
oliver cocked his head to the side. "may i ask why you can't?"
y/n licked his dry lips, crossing his arms as he blew out some air. he was hesitant to share, but after knowing oliver for a few months, he decided he could open up. he cleared his throat. "well, for starters, i'm working two jobs just to pay the monthly rent for my apartment," he mentioned, causing oliver's eyes to soften. oliver felt a pang of sympathy for the young man as he listened.
"academic workload is catching up to me, and i'm falling behind just a tad," y/n explained, running a hand through his hair. "there's just so much going on, i can't even think of what to do first."
oliver raised a brow. "isn't term break nearing?" he asked.
y/n shook his head. "yeah, but… i'll need to catch up on my rent. i'll probably work most of the week."
oliver hummed, the gears in his mind turning. for some odd reason, he felt bad for the guy. working two jobs just to make ends meet while also battling the workload and school duties at a prestigious university. he didn’t know his family situation, but it must be difficult if his parents weren’t at least helping to assist him. maybe a certain someone’s savior complex had rubbed off on him, or perhaps since inheriting wealth, he had become more generous. in a twisted sense, maybe it was sympathy.
oliver couldn’t just leave him to suffer, much to his dismay. he wanted to help. he was hooked, intrigued by this young man. he knew he wanted y/n to need him. to be dependent on him for his needs. his eyes darkened slightly as he took a shallow breath, speaking after making up his mind.
"tell you what," oliver began. "i'll help you with your rent."
y/n's eyes widened at the sudden offer, and he let out a laugh of disbelief. his laughter faltered when he noticed how serious oliver seemed. "… are you serious?" he asked.
oliver gave him a small, crooked smile. "of course. why wouldn't i be? it's just to help you get some of the weight off your shoulders," he said in a convincing tone. he noticed the way y/n stared at him, knowing he was probably weighing his options as he looked down at his lap.
"i can't possibly accept that kind of offer, mr. quick. i…" y/n's sentence trailed off, his mouth slightly ajar as oliver waved a hand dismissively.
"i'm not asking if you want to accept it," oliver said, crossing his legs. "i'm telling you that i'm helping you. think of it as a treat for working so hard."
y/n was flabbergasted, not knowing how to respond. for a moment, his eyes squinted and his brows furrowed. "…is there a catch?"
oliver snickered slightly, feigning nonchalance. "no, no catch."
y/n whined slightly. "but i need to pay you back somehow, mr. quick."
"call me oliver."
y/n cleared his throat. "oliver, i…" he tried to protest, but it seemed oliver had made up his mind. with a sigh of defeat, he relented. "alright… thank you so much, oliver. it will really help. a lot." he added, "please, if you need anything from me, i'll do my best to help."
bingo.
oliver smirked internally. "i'll keep that in mind."
a few days later…
y/n returned from work, exhausted, as he collapsed face-first on his dorm room bed. today was the day the rent was due, and he groaned as he got a ping on his phone. unlocking it, he checked the message, tapping the icon to open his inbox. he rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the tiredness. squinting slightly to read the message, his eyes widened. he couldn't believe what he read.
"greetings, mr. l/n, here is confirmation that your past and current rent have been settled. as for the remaining rent for this school term, it has been paid in advance. the individual who covered your dues has included a message for you, which is enclosed below. good luck with your examinations.
'see you soon, y/n. - o.q.'"
______________________________________________________________ author's note: just a little drabble here since someone asked for some oliver quick love. might make sequel to this or a part two, depending on how many people like it. it's quite rushed and i just wrote it in between classes so... yeah. hope you enjoyed!
#male reader#saltburn#saltburn x male reader#farleigh saltburn#farleigh start#felix catton#oliver quick#farleigh start x male reader#felix catton x reader#saltburn 2023#oliver quick x reader#saltburn movie#saltburn posting
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Another Singapore GP, another selfie dump.
[1] Nico Rosberg - 2016 WDC gave us a jump scare when he showed up, shoutout to my friend who's a big fan of his who he remembered and was probably the reason why he turned around to smile for this pic because I was so sure he was just going to keep moving down the line. 🥲
[2] Alex Albon - my fellow March Aries: always kind, always obliging and generous with his time, also came prepared with his own marker!! A true professional.
[3] Nico Hulkenberg - I've seen this man every year since 2017 and he's ignored me every single time and I was just going to accept that he was never going to give me the time of day when finally, this year he deigned to take a picture with me. 💀
[4] Franco Colapinto - this man could not be less interested in taking this photo BUT Y'KNOW WHAT? I give him major props for doing it anyway when he could have just ignored me.
[5] James Vowles - the last selfie I took at the Singapore GP! Luckily there weren't a lot of people where I was, so he kindly stopped for a second to take this before going on his way.
[6] Mick Schumacher - another fellow March Aries: most of the time he just signs stuff but that particular day he decided to take pictures with fans as well, which I'm so glad he did. 🥺
[7] Ayao Komatsu - we almost didn't recognise him because he was dressed in civvies on race day?? Anyway, please take good care of Esteban. 🙏
[8] Maya Heug - the only F1 Academy driver I asked for a picture and gotta be honest, I was just stalling so I could ask Rene as well. 🫠
[9] Rene Rosin - after we took this he immediately roasted me for not waiting until they left the paddock because "the picture will be nicer without the gate". 🤡
[10] David Croft aka Crofty - another one for the "I see them every year but I finally got their attention" folder. He always has earphones in so I had to wave my entire arm for him to notice.
[11] Martin Brundle - see above, except he doesn't have earphones in and usually just zips past us.
[12] Simon Lazenby - I just missed him in 2022 so it was good to catch him this time!
[13] Jamie Chadwick - I was surprised that nobody else seemed to recognise her this year but maybe it was because she's not driving? Anw, a nice surprise to see her again!
[14] Anthony Davidson - a friend of mine is a big fan so I've seen him a lot but this was the first time I asked for a pic. 😬
[15] Tom Clarkson - aka the guy who had to tell Max to mind his language during the Thursday press conference. 🙊 I know him as the host of Beyond the Grid and got to tell him I love the podcast, and he thanked me for listening.
[16] Lee McKenzie - Lee, Rosanna Tennant (who was also around!) and Ruth Buscombe (who I saw multiple times but the timing was never right 😭) are probably my favourite track-side reporters. This was my first time seeing Lee in person and I was so glad she took the time to stop for this pic!
[17] Aurélie Donzelot - I've been a fan of her work for years, since she was at Renault/Alpine literally changing the motorsport social media game. She's independent now and I still love following her work spotlighting women in motorsport on her podcast "Racing Lives" as well as her stories on Substack.
[18] Susie Wolff (featuring Jennifer the marshal) - I felt bad at first because my friends also wanted a photo with her and we could have taken a group photo but she was in a rush and only stopped for me. Later that night she saw us again and asked security to step aside so she could take pictures with my friends, which was very kind of her. 🫶
[ more of my F1 experiences ]
#as always esteban will be in a separate post 😌#f1#singapore gp#f1 fandom faces#rach at f1#nico rosberg#alex albon#nico hulkenberg#franco colapinto#james vowles#mick schumacher#ayao komatsu#maya heug#rene rosin#david croft#martin brundle#simon lazenby#jamie chadwick#anthony davidson#tom clarkson#lee mckenzie#aurelie donzelot#susie wolff
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What are they like on Instagram (JJK boys)
Yuuji
-He posts loads of pics with his friends mostly him not knowing how to pose so he would end up with peace sign ✌️ whenever but with grumpy smile
-He replies every single comments, he never miss any
-No idea about caption
-Have so many highlights
-Pfp: his selfie
-username: yuuuuuji__
Megumi
-Mostly just being tagged by Yuuji and Nobara
-Looks being snapped in every photos
-Turn off the comments if he post any
-Private account
-Profile picture might be his side photo which is actually really cool
-username: just_megumi_
Gojo
-He is always posting stories
-Cheesy captions
-Roast others in their posts
pfp: Him with sunglasses and smiling flirty
usernames: urfavgojo
Nanami
-Post aesthetically
-Mostly post about surroundings then his pics
-Caption pro
Pfp: Him in suits which he thinks no deal but girls go crazy over him and follow him so properly have many followers
Username: nanami03
Toji
-Will post sexy pics
-Very flirty in Dm
-Might as well do only fans
Pfp: Him in revealing shirt
Username: daddyfushiguro
Sukuna
-Constantly being banned for inappropriate reports
-Being so mean but has many supporters
-Post random stuffs
-Only follow back Yuuji
Pfp: Gojo memes
Username: kingofcurses_is_me
—
Hey! Feel free to request! I will check out as soon as I get free time <33
—
#jjk nanami#jjk sukuna#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#yuuji x y/n#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro#megumi fushiguro#megumi x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#nanami kento#nanami x you#jujutsu headcanons#jujutsu sorcerer#gojo fanfic#headcanons
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hello!^^ this is my first request [its been a really long time since ive acc requested on tumblr and stuff so sorry if im crusty o(TヘTo) , ps how are you? :D] could i please have a twisted wonderland match make personality: im a person would will throw myself on you as a 'hug' , and i will roast the mfing out of u if you're super annoying [pls i acc nice] , i hate hate hate when fights break out in my class but ill stil give a non-biased report on every.single.detail. I can lose my temper quickly and would "talk back" even though its hard to control my mouth , anyways i love cats i will litterly miss my bus for petting a cat. i wont budge if you shout scream or even hit i really wont bother if you're just downright giving me a headache , i love to just drop kick people like i did once when it was on accident but my friend fell on her back and i was apologetic. MBTI:intp likes: reading [a really big bookworm] , i like to play on my switch and i dont personally like art but im good at it , i love creative writing and and im in the makes of making own , its a dark angsty novel if ya wanna know.[ a lil sneak peak 'As Francis held the remaining petals, his sobs were filling up the silence in the hole of his mind yet no sound truly came out. he felt that his legs fail to support him no longer as he collapsed into the pitch black void of his feelings....'] i like desserts and sour things , dislikes:i really really hate being confronted, and i hate over working to much since i feel exhausted . i hate being accused a lot and i really really really hate being bullied. appearance: shoulder length dark-brown hair with hazel coloured eyes, i short despite my age and was mistaken for a person about 2 grades/years younger than me 😭 , i wear blue ombre glasses! [ps. dont overwork your self on anything - a new follower☆*: .。. o(≧▽≦)o .。.:*☆]
Awe well aren't you just the sweetest!! I match you with...
..
... Ace!
Can I just say, c h a o t i c. But in a cute way😻
We all know how it went down when ace first met yuu, so when he was being a little ass you did NOT hesitate to put him in his place, after a little rivalry you grew closer and instead of being eachothers problem decided to be the nrcs problem ✨
Ace is cheering you on whenever your beefing with riddle, which to may I add is basically every single day- I mean who are you to blame? He is overly strict and someone has to be brave enough to tell him so, which is why ace bows to you, and as a gift gifts you a cherry pie which he made himself! (I hc he's good at baking especially when it's related to cherries)
expects praises but doesn't at the same time, like he'll be all "oh I'm such a good boyfriend I deserve compliments!!" and when you actually compliment him he freezes and blushes;
He is so jealous of grim, he can't pry your hANDS OFF OF HIM, your holding grim 24/7 and ace just stares at you, with tears in his eyes/hj
Asked vil if he could turn him into a cat once no joke, he actually did, he was a ginger cat with the softest fur-
You gasped and immediately cradled the cat in your arms unaware who it really was, coincidentally the spell wore off soon and he turned into his original form which you were barely able to hold;
He apologized and so did you, you told him you'd make it up for him with a date to which he gladly agreed to;
He definitely takes glances at what you're writing " is it about mee?~" "Ace for the last time, NO-"
You drop kicked him and he deserved it
If you accidentally overworked or are close to it he immediately runs up to you and drags you far away from your desk, bringing you anywhere else to either cause trouble or just relax, yep ladies gentlemen and non binary hoes ace actually can relax, crazy ik😻
But yeah he may be an ass but he cares, so much about you, loves you dearly but wouldn't admit it outloud unless you were asleep, then he whispers it, you smirk and he chokes on his words and yells at you;
You 2 are the enemies to friends to lovers couple
Thank you for the request dear annon! Your book sounds very interesting, I might take a peek👀, bye for now! Have an amazing week<3
#twisted wonderland#x reader#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#ace trappola#ace trapolla x yuu#ace trappola x reader#twst fluff#matchups
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The Roof is on Fire: Part 3 (Too Soon?)
Content warning: discussion of 9/11, trauma and PTSD recovery, and a house fire, as well as a dead pet.
"…and then we were both howling. It's probably sheer luck that we didn't crash on the way home, because the rest of the drive was spent in hysterics, taking turns volleying fire-related jokes: "Did you hear about the fire in the shoe factory? Many soles were lost." "Why do ducks have flat feet? To stomp out forest fires. Why do elephants have flat feet? To stomp out flaming ducks!" "My grandfather always said, “Fight fire with fire.” He was a great man, but a terrible firefighter." …while the stereo played that old familiar song, and we laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all. "The roof. The roof. The roof is on fire..." And that's when I knew I'd be okay." (Part 1: Backstory)
What I would've given to be there the night that Gilbert Gottfried gave what, to this day, remains one of the most iconic performances at a Hollywood Roast. It was the roast of Hugh Heffner, which means it was bound to be lascivious. Pushing the boundaries of what is acceptable is part of the tradition of the Hollywood Roast, and Gottfried himself has a long and rather sordid track record of doing just that.
“I have to catch a flight to California," Gottfried tells the audience. "But I can’t get a direct flight. They said they have to stop at the Empire State Building first.”
This is a joke that, today, might have seemed pretty tame compared to a lot of the 9/11 jokes that have been made in the past twenty-odd years. But it elicited groans of disgust and furtive boos from the audience. Gottfried-- already famous (infamous?) for a sense of humor that some might credit to his gumption, while others will call inappropriate and insensitive-- became one of the most, if not the single most controversial and iconic public displays of gallows humor ever uttered before a crowd.
The phrase, "Too soon!" could be heard among the boos of the audience that night. Two decades later, Vice released a documentary by that name, raising the question: at what point are we allowed to laugh after something terrible happens?
Apparently, two weeks was enough time: enough to laugh, if not to at the tragedy then at least in the midst of it. As the news continued to rehash the attacks over and over, the host of that year's already controversial Roast launched into another joke, and suddenly an auditorium full of people went absolutely hysterical with laughter.
"I'd lost an audience bigger than anybody has ever lost an audience," Gottfried explains later. "People were booing and hissing... oh my God. I was floating through outer space." So, he thought, "why not go to an even lower level of hell?"
"The Aristocrats" is one of the dirtiest jokes of all time. Gottfried himself didn't write it, and he certainly wasn't the first to tell some version of it. The routine has been around in comedy circles for years. Every comedian who uses it has a unique retelling, taking the same generally dirty premise and adding in whatever other repugnant details seem right in the moment. Gottfried's version was no exception, and it may have become the most famous, in part, for some of the repugnant details he includes.
You might think that an audience sensitive to the airplane-hijacking reference wouldn't have responded much better to this depraved ditty, but what happened next was a sensation in the world of comedy.
“The laugh was so deep and cathartic that people were coughing up pieces of lung,” recalls reporter Frank DiGiacomo. “It was amazing... he had united everybody in that one moment."
Gottfried himself was even a bit shocked at the overwhelming response. "The audience was going wild (with) the biggest laughs I ever heard."
What rang out from that auditorium was the sort of laughter that shook stadiums, changed lives, saved teetering comedy careers. World-renowned celebrities dressed to the nines in elegance and class were falling out of their seats, crumpling designer suits as they clutched their sides. Faces well-known to glamour magazines turned red under layers of concealer and cream, contorting as the uncontrollable need to laugh overtook them all. Tears stained glittering gowns as the unthinkable happened, as the people in that room were released, for that one shining moment, from the weight of tragedy, the shackles of couth, the hollowness left by weeks of endless mourning.
It was the sort of laughter that healed.
"I���ve always said tragedy and comedy are roommates," Gottfried explains. "Wherever tragedy’s around, comedy’s a few feet behind... sticking his tongue out and making obscene gestures. When you go to a funeral, the guy at the podium will say embarrassing stories about the guy in the box, and people will laugh... (and) hold their hands over their face like, Oh, I shouldn’t be laughing at this."
But why shouldn't they be?
I think it's a shame that funerals are considered universally inappropriate places for laughter. That isn't to say that churches full of grieving families dressed in black ought to be treated as basement improv clubs or the cemetery as a stand-up audition. No doubt many of those burying their loved ones just won't be in the mood for glib.
But when I think of my own funeral, of the time when it will be my loved ones gathering because I'm the guy in the box, I like to imagine a room filled with laughter. I want to know that they're remembering me as I am now, laughing and playing and pretending death isn't just one missed turn signal or grim-faced doctor's proclamation away from us all.
The trauma of losing my house in a fire pales considerably next to stories of rescue workers and those trapped within the rubble on September 11th, 2001. Which is why I do not intend to compare the two, or hold others to my own timeline of recovery. My intention is never to criticize those who prefer to mourn in more traditional ways, but rather to pose the question: Is there such thing as a universal standard of "too soon"?
When I told a firefighter from one of my towns that I had lost my cat in a fire, he was sympathetic.
"I'm so sorry to hear that," he told me. "I'm sorry you had to lose a family member in such a horrible way."
I shrugged. "Sure, I guess I did lose a family member, and that's pretty sad." Then my grin turned sideways. "But I got a pretty cool frisbee out of it."
In between approving guffaws, he slapped my shoulder amiably and said, "Oh, you're going to fit in just fine here."
By "here," I know he didn't mean that town's fire department. What he had meant to express was his I'd adjust nicely into the public safety field, because I had demonstrated competence with the national language of first responders: gallows humor.
Discretion is key when utilizing humor as a coping mechanism. Part of discretion is knowing how long to wait before laughing at something. Two weeks after 9/11, there were still funerals going on. Firefighters and officers who had braved the rubble of the city's once proud monument to commerce were still reeling from the catastrophic events that threatened the American way of life. Family members were still inconsolable, and many of the children of the fallen had not yet fully realized that Mom or Dad really wouldn't be coming home this time. So that, perhaps, was too soon.
But twenty years later, jokes about 9/11 can be funny, as Jimmy Carr proved in 2022 with this absolute knock-out. Legend has it Carr tested the joke on Davidson himself, and Pete gave his go-ahead before it was told in front of the Hollywood Roast crowd. In this way, he proved that a joke, far darker than Gottfried but told twenty years later, can be laughed at without guilt.
It's as they say: tragedy + time = comedy. The twin masks of the theater represent the relationship between the two. Along with comedians, first responders are among those who have cracked the formula for dealing with hard shit. We cope with the difficult things we have to witness every day by deciding, at some point, that it has to be funny. It has to be funny, or else the trauma wins. Tears of sorrow will eventually become tears of laughter, as soon as you're ready to allow them to.
Knowing the rules is important. You can't laugh at someone else's trauma until they laugh at it first, and even then it's often wise to leave the joke-making to them. You also can't be insensitive to the fact that not everybody is comfortable with gallows humor. Knowing your audience, respecting the healing timeline, engaging in a way that will draw people together rather than drive them apart-- these are the skills comedians both professional and amateur must develop before attempting to get the tears flowing.
Though risky, dark humor can be incredibly healing. Cliché as it sounds, shared laughter brings people together. Memes about unpleasant mundane experiences go viral because we see ourselves as well as each other in them. The fact that our experiences are universal means that we're all in this together, and that means that no matter what happens, none of us are ever alone.
Pain is the most reliable constant in all of human history, a "common thread" tying together the entire human race. We all suffer, so why shouldn't our suffering at least mean something? At least when we also choose to share in the struggles of life, we can end the day by laughing together, too.
#The Roof is on Fire#dizzydispatch#911 dispatcher#9/11#dizzydispatch911#tw 9#tw 9/11#dark humor#trauma#ptsd#humor is healing#coping#first responders
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Some of the more interesting bits of today's reset and dialogues. I loved this from Mara. She acknowledges her participation in steering Uldren towards his downfall AND she realises that she will have to do better with him in the future. This is from the ending dialogue when you finish the exotic quest for the Ager's Scepter.
I want to mention something from the start of the week because I've seen people get angry (but when do they not when it comes to Mara?)
Long post under read more:
It's about the discussion she and Ikora have at the terminal. Hot take, but both Mara and Ikora are right and wrong in the argument. Transcript:
Mara: "How long have your Hidden been privy to Uldren's resurrection?" Ikora: "Long enough to watch over him in your absence." Mara: "And you didn't direct him home. Why?" Ikora: "There was a concern he'd pick up some old habits." Mara: "You know the Garden made him sick. Riven twisted his mind. Eris would have seen it. She is not so easily deceived by skin-deep tricks." Ikora: "It's true I made mistakes, out of an idea of justice... out of grief. Are you leveling this same scrutiny toward Petra? Wasn't she supposed to be watching his grave?" Mara: "Petra has paid her dues. The Vanguard murdered him and has yet to pay theirs." Ikora: "We both lost family. I am sorry for my part in yours, but... Crow has been treated --" Mara: "My brother is dead. He was exhumed; his body twisted into a caricature. You had your vengeance." Ikora: "Is that what you're after? Cayde... I still feel that grief like a stone caught in my chest. Some days, it's more pronounced than others. Vengeance didn't erode that grief." Mara: "Then tell me. Who am I to blame? Who sent him to Savathun's clutches? Who bludgeoned Uldren into a scared animal and drove him from his home?" Ikora: "You did, Mara. And those Guardians that hurt him, did so out of misguided anger. Don't make the same mistake. Don't make my mistake."
This is some heavy stuff and there's a lot going on. First, I like that Mara doesn't respond at the end. It's uncharacteristic for her. It shows that Ikora's words did something to her. This is evident in the exotic quest later which I've already put at the beginning of the post. She's had time to think and she's admitting the part she played.
I dislike some of Ikora's arguments a lot. First, "concern that he'd pick up some old habits" goes entirely against the Vanguard policy and belief that Guardians are new people. They were only concerned because of bias towards Uldren due to what he's done. And Crow knows this! He said so last week when he wondered why is he the only Guardian judged by his past life. No one else is subjected to the same way of thinking. This is the reason why Guardians aren't supposed to dig around their past lives. Obviously with Crow, there's no way for him to avoid it, but the argument that, if he knew, he'd just magically become Uldren (and not just base!Uldren, but murderer!Uldren who will... I don't know, go after Ikora and Zavala or the innocent people in the City?) really shows how much the Vanguard mistreated Crow.
I also dislike the move to Petra. As Mara says, Petra has paid her dues. She really has. Let's not forget that Uldren was not just some guy to her or just her Prince; he was her friend. She had to watch him spiral out of control due to things she couldn't help him with, she had to make the choice to put him away until Mara comes back and at the end she had to make the choice to kill him. This trauma has shaped her.
The Vanguard hasn't paid any dues. That's kinda the whole point of Mara's questioning. Ikora tries to explain that this was due to grief and losing family, but pray tell Ikora, has Mara not lost family too? Mara mentions this immediately as expected.
Ikora is however right to say that it was ultimately Mara's actions that led to the situation we're currently in. The Vanguard had no say in Awoken royal family affairs. Mara knows this, she said as much in the past few weeks and other lore in general: she spoke at length about the distance she pushed between them out of perceived necessity, the need to shape Uldren in a way to make him less like himself (since she disliked his recklessness and dangerous behaviours), but ultimately that only made things worse. She's aware that his venture into the Black Garden was fuelled by Uldren's need to prove himself. Ironically, in an effort to make him loyal and devoted, Mara pushed him into more recklessness instead of stopping it. She's aware of this. Asking Ikora "who am I to blame" was just waiting to be roasted.
But Mara is also right to ask about how the Vanguard treated both Uldren and Crow. How they washed their hands from killing him "officially" by hiding behind the Guardian, how nobody in the Tower answered for this. Their treatment of Crow as well: forcing him into hiding, isolating him. Excusing all the suffering he felt at the hands of the Guardians as "misguided anger." The torture he endured from Guardians just for showing his face was so much more than just "misguided anger" and Mara is right to feel heated and enraged when she talks about this and when she asks her questions. She expressed similar distaste and anger in a voice line with Glint in regards to how the Spider treated Crow.
I got an interesting dialogue at the end of my Shattered Realm run which also made me really irritated on behalf of both Crow and Mara when it comes to the Vanguard. Ikora asks Crow why didn't he send his latest report and Crow replies that he's had a lot going on and a lot to deal with. Which is true! He's not the Drifter who doesn't send reports out of spite; Crow genuinely wants to help but he's struggling with a lot of things that we can't even begin to unravel. He deserves patience and understanding. However, the following then ensues.
Ikora:
Crow:
Ikora:
This last part is a nice sentiment. But excuse me. Crow has literally been resurrected, isolated, tortured, enslaved and then "rescued" only to be thrust into a cage in the Tower and given "responsibilities." He is not obliged to be the Vanguard's errand boy. It's honestly quite rude from Ikora to tell him that he has to take his responsibilities seriously. The man hasn't lived a single day in his life without anxiety over whether he'll be tortured to death in the street if he shows his face.
I know the Vanguard gave him protection from the Spider and stuff to do (which he enjoys) and accepted him into their ranks. That's all good. But there's very little empathy here that acknowledges the life he's lived. Crow deserves to experience things that aren't isolation, imprisonment and following orders.
And most of all, he deserves to know the truth. Something the Vanguard has denied him for almost a year now. I know Savathun's schemes were involved and specifically, they were involved through impersonating Osiris which made a lot of people turn a blind eye. But now that this is known?
Crow can't share his burdens without knowing the truth. That's the whole problem. Everybody, except him, knows who he was. Everyone looks at him and treats him through that lens. He can't unburden himself without being told half-truths and being denied information. His burdens exist precisely because he doesn't know while everyone else does. So while the sentiment is nice, it reads more like a "that sucks buddy" than a genuine offer to help him with what is really bothering him.
On the other hand, obviously sharing the truth is difficult. His past life is more complicated than for most other Guardians. He's been through things that other Guardians haven't. The situation is complex on every single level and every character has a reason for the choices they've made.
Sometimes those choices are wrong and they are mistakes. And Mara isn't the only one who made the wrong choices and mistakes, consciously and unconsciously. It's a disservice to the complexity of the situation, Ikora, the Vanguard and Uldren to boil everything down to "Mara bad." Doesn't make for a compelling story.
That's what I wanted to address in detail because on the surface, it's easy to just dismiss either of the character you dislike more. And that's just reducing the story to a spectrum of black and white that Destiny really, ironically, isn't about.
#destiny 2#destiny 2 spoilers#season of the lost spoilers#mara#crow#uldren#ikora#lore vibing#long post#that was such a great interaction between mara and ikora#i hate seeing it boiled down to 'mara bad. got told off by ikora. yas queen.'#ikora is also a complicated character driven by strong emotions and opinions#don't reduce her to a simplistic image of ikora that people generally have#it's honestly a huge disservice to her
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know-it-all // g.w
summary: Could you please write a fluffy fic about George and a Ravenclaw reader arguing about an answer on an exam or an assignment. And in the end it turns out George was right. And I would love it if you could include the exchange, "Don't say it!" "I told you so." "I said don't say it."
warnings: mentions of food
word count: 1.7k
a/n: i am back with my twin fics! woah! it’s been a while, sorry about that. life has been wild and i didn’t have much motivation but here we go! i hope you all enjoy!! x
[i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other platform!]
For what felt like the billionth time of that afternoon, you dropped your head onto the table and let your forehead smack against the solid wooden surface. You could feel different sets of eyes peering in your direction from other tables in the library, all silently questioning what was wrong with you.
The answer was simple: Potions.
Snape had set out a stupid assignment that, to be completely fair, was way out of your league. For every time you thought he was an awful professor, he sunk remarkably lower.
The topic of said assignment was one that you guys hadn’t even covered yet, and given by Snape’s tone of voice when a student had brought that very point up in class, he really couldn’t care less. It didn’t help that you were already ridiculously occupied with other end-of-year assignments — you didn’t want to get stuck teaching yourself a whole new branch of potion-making as well. You were barely sleeping nights and only showed up to dinner every second day, the library study hours becoming your very best friend.
It was just a lot.
It also didn’t help that you could see the golden rays of the sunlight pouring in through the dusty library window, signalling that it was once again the end of the day, and tomorrow, bright and early, you’d be handing in the assignment that you were nearly certain you’d botched.
Dinner was likely being prepared in the Great Hall right about now, the wonderful smell of roast potatoes and pumpkin juice running through your mind, but you honestly weren’t up to eating. You were feeling rather down in the dumps, forehead still pressed against the wooden table, and your mind reeling around the assignment.
“You look like you could use some assistance.”
You lifted your gaze, sure that there was now a bright red spot on your forehead, and glared over at George, who had just taken the seat across from you at the table. His grin was wide but his eyes were tired — you knew he was busy working on assignments of his own, as well his summer plans for opening the shop. Yet somehow he always found time to help you.
He tilted his head to the side when you gave him an exhausted stare, blinking rapidly before you processed his question.
“Do you remember doing this last year?” you asked, sliding over the assignment paper, giving a small cough to clear your dry throat. George, being in the year ahead of you, had quite the knack for Potions. He liked to say it was because it was just utterly fascinating and he was a purely, genuinely, naturally gifted student, but you knew he only did so well because he’s been brewing his own disastrous concoctions since he was a young boy. With practice comes skill, you always said.
And you prayed to Merlin that said skill would come in handy right about now.
His eyes scanned the paper and he gave a small shake of his head, “No, but I think you’ve got this wrong. You wrote Leech Juice here, but I’m pretty sure the answer is actually Acromantula Venom.”
You frowned, snatching the paper back from him — making him flinch and take a quick look at his fingers for any paper cuts — and stared down at your answer, “What? No. The obvious answer is Leech Juice. This was the only question I understood. I know the answer to this one, it’s the others that I can’t seem to figure out.”
He raised an eyebrow, “It’s Acromantula Venom, darling. That I know for sure.”
Though you were grateful for his presence and the fact that he was willing to help, you knew he was wrong about that one. Any first year could tell the answer was Leech Juice. But you didn’t feel like arguing with him any more than necessary with time running low, so you just gave your paper back and frowned.
“Can you help me with any of these? Professor Snape hasn’t said a single thing about any of these topics, and I’m sick of flipping through book after book, not even sure what I’m looking for,” you let out a sigh, “It feels like he’s purposefully setting us up for failure,” you muttered the last part under your breath, not wanting anyone other than George to hear your complaints.
His hand reached across the table and linked with yours, his soft fingers calming down the rapid, stressed-out beating of your heart, and gave you a small smile, “If he hasn’t taught you this, I’m sure that you’re not the only one having a hard time.”
You groaned, trying to pull your hand out of his, unfortunately failing as his grip was stronger than yours.
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you said, voice low, “I don’t want to fail, even if everyone else does. That’ll always show up on my reports.”
He pursed his lips, giving you a small nod, “Alright, I get that. Why don’t you take a break? We’ll go eat, and then finish this up later, yeah? You can head over to the Common Room with me after dinner, I doubt anyone will say anything.”
A sigh left your lips as you began to place your parchment and books into a pile, George grabbing your ink bottle and quill — which had kindly left little indents in your hand due to aggressive use — and the two of you began to make your way to the Great Hall.
After leaving the library, you could feel a weight lifted off of your shoulders. As if the tense study environment that you had felt stuck in had now been leeched away from you. As if you could now think clearly. You gave George a small smile, thankful that he arrived when he did.
Merlin, why was sixth year so difficult? If it wasn’t for George’s calmness and sanity, you’d probably be a melted mess of failed papers and shining blue robes on the floor.
As you made your way into the Hall, heading towards the Ravenclaw table, George pressed a kiss to your forehead and muttered, “Acromantula Venom,” against your skin, shooting you a wink before he made off to his own house table.
You gave a small scowl, mouthing “Leech Juice” right back at him.
— —
“Oh, well, now would you look at that,” George grinned, looking down at the assignment you were shoving in his face. A bright smile donned your lips as you flashed the score, a bright red E.
Exceeds Expectations.
It wasn’t the O — Outstanding — that you were hoping for, but Merlin, did the E feel good. That meant you had done better than Snape was expecting — and better than a majority of the class, by the looks of it. They had all walked out with solemn faces and shoved their papers in their bags as quickly as possible. Even the Slytherin girl who sat behind you, the one who always bragged about perfect grades and how much Snape favoured her, had left without saying a word. That fact alone really boosted your pride.
“No thanks to your brilliant boyfriend,” George gave himself a pat on the back, giving you your now-crumpled paper.
“Oh, sod off,” you gave him a nudge in the shoulder as you sat down on the couch next to him, the Gryffindor common room rather silent for this early in the evening. Despite being a Ravenclaw, passing students didn’t mind your presence in their house. After three years of dating George and always being in the space, they barely even noticed the blue of your tie amongst the red ones anymore.
“Wait, what’s this?” George rapidly snatched the paper out of your hands — revenge for when you did it to him, most likely — and his eyes lingered on question number four, “Oh, well, would you look at that?”
You scowled, crossing your arms over your chest in preparation for his comment, “Don’t say it.”
His grin was so wide, you swore his cheeks would split, “You got Leech Juice wrong! And right here, scribbled in Snape’s hardly-legible writing, what does that say? It looks like A-Acro-,”
“Don’t,” you didn’t meet his eyes, a sour expression on your face as George rubbed it in.
“I told you so,” he leaned forwards, pressing a light kiss against your temple, arm slinging around you to bring you against his body. His warmth radiated through his sweater and it wasn’t helping the pettiness you were feeling in your chest.
“I said don’t say it,” you grumbled, snapping your head away from him and staring at the blank brick wall next to the fireplace. His laugh vibrated through your body, and it took everything in you not to turn around and laugh with him.
He placed one of his hands under your chin and turned your gaze to meet his, “Come on, I’m only playing. I’m proud of you, and I knew you’d do well. You were worried for nothing.”
“It wasn’t for nothing!” you flailed your arms, letting them fall on your lap, “He sprung this out of the blue. Of course I was worried.”
“And you did brilliantly,” he pressed another kiss to your temple, sparks fluttering across your skin as his loving touch, “You always do, my brilliant little witch.”
You cracked.
A small smile made its way onto your lips as you leaned into his touch, loving the feeling of being close to him. And it felt even sweeter knowing that you hadn’t failed — that this was a victory hug.
“Love you,” he mumbled against your hand, bringing your knuckles up to his lips and pressing a kiss on each one. You leaned your head on his shoulder, bringing your lips to his neck to mumble the same words against his skin.
A victory.
taglist
@grierpilots @hxfflxpxffs @mikumana @msmimimerton @pit-and-the-pen @diary-of-an-onliner @thoseofgreatambition @theweasleysredhair @haphazardhufflepuff @awritingtree @thisismysketchbook @valwritesx @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred @phuvioqhile @marvelettesassemble @shadowsinger11 @breadqueen95 @hahee154hq @inglourious-imagines @amourtentiaa @barneswidow @spacexcowgirl @lumos-barnes @gcdricreads @bolaurel @almostweepingbanana @ickle-ronniekins @iprobablyshipit91 @wand3ringr0s3 @susceptible-but-siriusexual @amhyeah @a-castle-of--glass @freddie1978 @lumosandnoxwriting @rosaliepostsstuff @darthwheezely @parseltongueswriting @pandaxnienke @esmeralda-a @freds-slut @slytherinlovesgryffindor
#george weasley imagine#george weasley imagines#george weasley x reader#george weasley reader insert#george weasley one shot#george weasley one shots
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Autumn Leaves
A/N: Autumn prompts are an excuse for me to write stupidly cute fluff, so that’s what I did. This is a Sonny Carisi x reader fic that covers the Autumn square in @adarafaelbarba moodboard bingo!
P.S. second-cousins are children of cousins
Tags: none, just fluff
Words: 1872
Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @berniesilvas @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31
“My family is insane, especially the kids,” Sonny explained while he drove you to Staten Island. “They don’t know how to sit and eat food without screaming.”
You chuckled, "it's fine, Carisi, I promise; I'm kind of used to this type of stuff already."
“What? You are? You don’t even know what’s awaitin’ ya, yet,” he replied, scoffing.
While in the precinct, you overheard Sonny on the phone with his ma. He seemed upset and perpetually tired when he hung up. When you asked him what was wrong, he told you that his ma was basically guilt-tripping him into visiting on Saturday, to help with the Autumn Feast his family partook in. And when you asked why that was so bad, he complained that no matter what they cooked, the kids of the Carisi Clan would hardly sit still long enough to eat, and would scream and cry if it wasn’t something they wanted.
“It just…it’s a handful…and not my ideal day off, even if I do get to see my family,” Sonny finished
You had nodded in sympathy before offering to go with him; you had a pretty big family with a lot of kids, too. Plus, you could never turn down Sonny’s amazing cooking, and now, you were getting a chance to taste his mom’s.
He had picked you up that morning, and now, you were on your way to Staten Island, Sonny warning you the whole way. You laughed and shrugged it off, but he kept giving you a look like you’ll see what I mean.
********************
He pulled up to his childhood home, and your eyes sparkled at the state of the townhouse. Not only was the building itself quaint and adorable, but there were decorations everywhere. And not just Halloween, but general autumn décor, as well. There were wreaths made with leaves of reds and oranges and yellows, there were scarecrows against the walls, there were fake pumpkins on every step leading to the house. And looming over the house from out back were two enormous trees, their branches almost completely bare, the leaves scattered on the roof, the front yard, and the back.
Sonny led you up the stairs to the front door, opening it for you. The first thing to assault your senses was the cacophony of noise. Children screaming in delight as they ran through the house, chatter and laughter from the various rooms as people talked. There was a tv on somewhere, with what sounded like a sports or news reporter blathering on and on.
The second thing you noticed was the wonderful smells. Your mouth was almost instantly watering as you caught the smell of garlic, potatoes, some sort of roast cooking with assorted spices, as well as cinnamon, sugar, and apples. It was so much at once; it was hard to differentiate.
But the third thing you felt was a type of warmth that comes only from a loving home. It bloomed in your chest, and you found yourself smiling as you stepped over the threshold, Sonny following and closing the door. It reminded you of the holidays at your own family’s place, and a calm washed over you.
In all of the chaos, Mama Carisi must’ve heard the door open and close, because she stuck her head out of the kitchen. Once her eyes latched onto Sonny’s, her smile grew to blinding proportions.
“Sonny, my little bambino! Come see your ma,” she cooed, arms open as she came out of the kitchen fully.
Sonny scooted passed you and hurried to his mother, wrapping her in a tight hug and kissing her cheek. You smiled at the reunion, and Mama Carisi opened her eyes to find you.
“And who is this?” she asked, releasing her son and coming over to you.
Sonny followed, looking more relaxed than you had ever seen him; getting a hug from your ma did that to a person. “Ah, this is my partner in the department,” he explained, introducing you.
You went to shake her hand, but Mama Carisi wrapped you up in a huge hug, kissing your cheek and whispering, “it’s nice to meet you. Welcome to my home,” into your ear.
“Thank you for having me,” you replied, easily melting into her embrace—okay, maybe it wasn’t just hugging your own mom that relaxed a person; maybe it was hugging Mama Carisi.
She pulled back to give you a look, a warm smile on her face. “Anyone who’s a friend of Sonny’s is welcome here.”
The next hour was a flurry of meeting family member after family member. Even with your detective skills, you quickly forgot most names, and your cheeks started to hurt from smiling. You and Sonny had started in the kitchen before he shuttled you through the house and out to the backyard.
“And these are all my cousins and second cousins; I’m not gonna bother introducing ya, since they won’t pay attention,” Sonny said, chuckling.
You didn’t blame him; there was a gaggle of children running and playing in the backyard. The oldest looked maybe ten, the youngest around four or five.
“Are these the ones that give you such problems?” you asked as a joke. It’s true that they were loud and crazy—as most kids are.
Sonny smirked, nodding. “Sure are. Watch; I bet ya twenty dollars that at least half of them will complain about dinner.”
“You got yourself a deal,” you replied, shaking his hand. Then, you scanned the expansive backyard. Leaves were covering the ground so completely that you could hardly see the lawn; kids were slipping on them all over the place. In the back, left corner stood an apple tree, bare of fruit—you assumed they’d already been harvested. And opposite the tree sat a little toolshed.
Grinning, you made your way through the throng of people and screaming children until you reached the shed. You opened the door and leaning just inside were two rakes: one huge one, and one medium sized. You grabbed the bigger of the two, then went to a small section of the backyard that somehow had no kids.
You glanced over and saw Sonny giving you a weird look, wondering what you were doing. Then, you started raking the leaves. You didn’t expect to get very far—the first pile rarely did. But there were so many leaves that you quickly had a pile up to your hip. As soon as one kid noticed, though, it was on.
The pile was quickly demolished as child after child flung themselves into it, screaming with laughter. But you had already moved on, starting another pile where they had just vacated. This one got a little bigger than the last, since they were distracted with the first pile. But once it was seen, it, too, became a new playground.
As you started on the third pile, another rake joined you. You glanced over and Sonny was there, smiling wide as he helped you rake. This pile got to be huge before little bodies flung themselves into it.
You quickly lost track of time, had no idea how many piles you had built only to be destroyed. But that was the point of the piles in the first place. Soon enough, the children started to become too tired, their little legs worn out. Your own arms were burning, but it was a good burn, and you continued until the piles started to outnumber the children.
By the time dinner was announced, there was not a single child running and playing anymore. They were scattered along the ground, panting, and smiling at each other with a job well done. Their parents all either ushered them to one of the various tables, or simply handed them a plate. Sonny, as well as the rest of his family, watched in stunned fascination as the children ate, too tired to complain or throw a fit about what they were given.
“How the hell did you do that?” Sonny asked in a hushed voice.
You chuckled. “I told you I had experience with this; you’re not the only one with a big family. And besides, no child has ever turned down the opportunity of crunching leaves.”
He gave you a look full of awe before he broke into a wide grin. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and grabbed a $20. You huffed out a laugh as he handed it to you, and you tucked it away.
Mama Carisi walked up then, looking at everyone enjoying her hard work in the kitchen. “You’re a miracle worker, dear,” she said to you before looking at Sonny, “please tell me you’re keeping her?”
Sonny’s ears turned a bright pink. “Ma!”
“What? She’s helpful, knows how to play with children, and is a beautiful, young woman—”
“Ma! Stop talking, please!” Sonny whined. You felt a heat in your cheeks as Sonny avoided looking directly at you. It wasn’t like you never thought about dating Sonny; on the contrary, you found him incredibly attractive. But you were partners; there was a line there that you didn’t know if you could cross.
Mama Carisi scoffed before walking off, leaving you and Sonny to stand awkwardly next to each other. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before he turned and went into the now mostly empty house. You gave a sweeping look at the party guests before following him in.
You found him standing in his old living room, idly looking at childhood pictures on the wall. You watched him for a moment before you moved closer, within arm’s reach.
“I’m…sorry about ma,” he muttered, eyes still focused on the pictures. “She keeps trying to hook me up with any woman around my age and just…I’m sorry.”
You gave him a soft smile that he didn’t see. “It’s okay, Sonny, really. I don’t think anything less of you or anything. We’re partners, and damn good ones, if I do say so myself.”
“Yeah, but…what if I don’t want to be just partners?” he asked, voice soft.
You froze; what did he say? Sonny slowly turned to look at you, saw the shock on your face. Then he was shaking his head, quickly saying, “look, forget I said anything—”
You cut him off with a gentle kiss, your lips soft against his. He let out a little gasp of surprise before he was kissing you back. One hand came up to your face, cupping your cheek, while the other went to your hip. You slowly wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You felt that line that defined you as partners only start to fade away as your mouths moved against each other.
Gently, you pulled away from him, just enough to look deeply into those blue eyes you loved so much. “Maybe I don’t want to be just partners, either,” you said softly.
Sonny grinned, his thumb rubbing your cheek tenderly. “Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow, then?”
“Sounds like a date,” you replied, smiling up at him. His grin broadened before he dipped his head, kissing away any fears or doubts you had about this.
#sonny carisi x reader#law and order svu#law and order svu fanfic#fanfic#my writing#adarafaelbarbaseptemberbingo
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Counting Time
Summary:
“Son.”
TK lifts his head slowly from where he had been tracing mindless shapes onto Carlos’ hand to stare up at Gabriel blankly. His soon-to-be father-in-law was smiling at him kindly, but TK could see the way it wavered.
“You should get some rest."
"I'm fine."
Written for Day 5 of @911lonestarangstweek : Recovery + “The only person I need right now is you.”
(A continuation from the little uh...je ne sais quoi on Day 3)
Read on AO3
There are 10,537 dots on the ground.
12.5 per tile, with an occasional special individual sporting 14.
All those were approximate guesses, his eyes never straying away too long from how they were glued on to the person lying supine – and so still – on the hospital bed. Though, he hasn’t moved much himself.
The two times he had was when the heart monitor picked up speed before settling down, and each time TK felt his heart quicken at the anticipation before dropping back down to the ground when it was just a false alarm. His hands once again clenched tightly around the one lying limp beside the figure on the bed, the only warmth emitting from the places he’s touched.
He didn’t need to feel the other one to know it was likely cold to the touch, and focused on the warmth from the one he could feel right now.
Picking at the drawstrings of his yellow hoodie with his one free hand, he knew his fingers were turning pruney from squeezing and rubbing on the course material. He couldn’t remember how exactly he had even gotten changed, and only knew when each day had passed when the same nurse working the morning shift greeted him quietly. There was always a tray of food or a bag of take-out placed in front of him every so often, but he wasn’t keeping track of how much time had passed between each delivery.
The only reason he hadn’t collapsed by now was probably because of his father and Andrea. The only two people that could get him to hold onto something materialistic and gently guide it to his mouth, encouraging him to take small bites and swallow, before washing it down with water.
“Son.”
TK lifts his head slowly from where he had been tracing mindless shapes onto Carlos’ hand to stare up at Gabriel blankly. His soon-to-be father-in-law was smiling at him kindly, but TK could see the way it wavered.
“You should get some rest. I’ll keep watch and let you know the second anything changes.” Gabriel says softly, but TK just shakes his head like he has the past three days.
“I’m fine.” His voice comes out scratchy, hollow, and he looks back to the comatose figure as Gabriel sighs.
“TK–”
“He might disappear if I close my eyes,” TK could barely get the words out from the shudder that ripples through his body at the reminder, his thoughts an originally blank canvas now filling with only the last few moments of that day, playing in repeat. He holds Carlos’ hand with both of his now, eyes peeled open to catch the slightest movement beneath the closed eyelids. “I won’t– I won’t let him disappear.”
He hears light footsteps that stop in the doorway, and quiet words being exchanged that he couldn’t find it in himself to tune into. Swiping a thumb slowly over Carlos’ wrist, he pauses at his pulse point to feel for any change, the monitors turning into mere background noise after the first day.
“We won’t let him disappear, either.”
TK feels the familiar stinging in his eyes at the tears that just refused to fall when a comforting hand carded through his hair, feeling himself leaning into the soothing gesture. He knows Andrea has pulled up a chair to sit beside him when he feels an arm brushing against his on the seat handles.
“I promise, that when you wake up, he’ll still be here.” Andrea murmurs, and TK knows he shouldn’t believe the open promise that could tear his heart to shreds at any moment, but he wants to.
Oh, did he want to.
“After you get some rest, you can keep watch again.” Gabriel adds gently, sitting on a chair on the opposite side of the bed, exchanging a look with Andrea. This time, when hands slowly pulled him in, he didn’t fight them as he allowed his head to be laid delicately on a warm shoulder. He can smell the sweetness of flowers from the garden on the Reyes family ranch, along with the hint of spices from the kitchen.
There’s a light kiss on his forehead, and TK feels his eyes starting to droop from the exhaustion he’s refused to give into for the past three days. It had been so easy to forgo sleep – the all-consuming fear that gripped him every time he realized that shutting his eyes for just a second might mean he never saw the love of his life ever again outplayed everything else.
“We’ll all still be here when you wake up, sweetheart.”
And those are the last words he hears before succumbing to the darkness.
.
He begins to engage more in conversation the more he stays at the hospital. After numerous visits from the doctors, nurses, and the chief of surgery, TK finally feels safe enough to leave for a quick shower before coming back.
“-and then, he just jumps! Real talk, I have seen my fair share of crazy on the force, but never have I actually seen someone scale a house because the suspect decides roofs are the new concrete flooring. He just grabs a nearby streetlamp and roundhouse kicks the perp and by the time I catch up he’s already got him in handcuffs and begging for his mother.” TK could feel the faintest smile on his lips when Mitchell finishes the story, hearing his team chuckling around him.
“He literally chased someone across a rooftop?” Paul was staring at her in disbelief, stance relaxed as he leaned against the wall, glancing at Carlos who was currently very unaware of the little fireside storytime that was happening around him.
“Across multiple rooftops. The dude did multiple running long jumps.”
“You’re kidding.”
They had just gotten off shift, with some of them having the day off. TK hadn’t expected them to show up at the hospital one by one like a trail of ducklings, especially considering they had already been visiting quite frequently all the other days too. It spoke volumes, and TK felt a familiar pressure building up behind his eyes when Nancy was the next one up to tell her piece.
“Okay so, this had to be…a year in, and since Michelle and him are best buddies, Tim and I hung out with him outside of work quite often.” TK reached out to squeeze her arm comfortingly when her voice shook on Tim’s name. She turned to smile at him, squeezing his hand back with a knowing look in her eyes when he didn’t have the words to say anything.
“We were so sure that he was this quiet albeit kind, and reserved guy. He was always so polite and put together.” Nancy shifts to lean against him fully, and it’s a pillar of support he is undoubtfully grateful for. He can feel Marjan’s hand that hasn’t left his shoulder since they arrived, tethering him to the present.
“Well, when Tim and I got front row seats when he outright roasted this woman during a nuisance call, that was an eye-opener.” TK’s eyes widened at that, unconsciously squeezing the hand on the bed beside him.
His eyes wandered back to Carlos’ still nature, an ache pulling at him, yearning for his fiancé to open his eyes and just join in the conversation.
“Aw man, this was the call I just had to be off shift for. Grace had to fill me in after,” Judd groaned, smiling down at his wife who was grinning up at him, patting his hand on her shoulder consolingly.
“I was the dispatcher,” Grace explained, but smiled mischievously as she nodded for Nancy to continue.
“She was a frequent 911 caller too. Practically every first responder in the city knew her, but what can you do? Well, Carlos wasn’t impressed when she called in to report in an active gunman, with dispatch sending multiple units in with bulletproof vests and guns raised only for her to explain how she just thought her neighbours were too loud, and needed a scare.” Nancy pursed her lips at the end, clearly remembering how well that call went.
“Please tell me they arrested her,” Marjan raised an eyebrow, making a sound of disbelief and TK hid his smile when he heard Mateo exclaim, “The audacity.”
“Oh, they did alright. She was screaming and yelling about how useless all of us were and there were children around. She was sprouting profanities too and we were all just so lost at what to do until Carlos just struts up to the woman, pins her arms behind her back, and slaps on handcuffs.
“She’s yelling at him now, and when she goes to take a breath, he just looks at her all nonchalantly and goes ‘are you done?’
“When she starts preaching about how he has nothing to hold her over, that he can’t just go around arresting people he just casually says, ‘course I can. For making a nuisance 911 call, for being a danger to the public, and for pissing me off,’ before sticking her into the back of his cruiser. I will never forget the look on her face!” Nancy laughs, and TK is honestly at a loss for words.
“Wow. That’s impressive.” There were varying looks of shock and surprise on their faces, and TK breathes in deeply.
“It was probably the children.”
He can feel multiple pairs of eyes on him, and yet, the one pair of eyes he longs for isn’t one of them.
Looking up to meet their gazes, he offers a weak smile.
“He’s always been attuned to how others are feeling, and those children were probably terrified.” TK says quietly. He hears hums of agreement and understanding and is grateful that none of them push him to say any more.
Just being here, was enough.
The next few hours pass by like this, with everyone swapping stories and just talking about their days. They all made sure that Carlos didn’t miss a single second of everything that had been going on, and TK feels his heart throb with how much he loves and cherishes the family they all built from the ground up.
As he lifts the limp hand to cup his cheek, blinking against the lingering mist that clouds his vision, he hopes that Carlos can feel them all here, and that they’ll all be waiting for him to finally join them.
.
“Gloria called today.”
It was past visiting hours, the hospital entering a period of rare serenity between nurses checking up on their patients every so often and the occasional new admittances. He knows he shouldn’t comment on the quietness, as saying it out loud usually jinxed the entire thing and he’s already experienced one of those in New York and would never subject anyone to that fate.
Usually, the nurses would have kicked him out, but TK would have just stayed all night in his car in the parking lot if they did. He still hadn’t set a single foot into their home, opting to go to his dad’s place for showers. He didn’t want to feel how cold the walls were as they enclosed on him and witness the lack of a warm smile and wonderous smells coming from the kitchen as his fiancé greeted him at the door with a soft kiss.
He didn’t want to see the pictures of friends and family lining their walls when the face that lit up every single one of those photographs was laying in a coma on a hospital bed.
He didn’t want to see the single pair of shoes left at the doorway, without its usual companion pair beside it.
He didn’t want to see any of it until he could see it with Carlos by his side.
The nurses had long stopped batting an eye at his presence no matter what time it was, and most of them, especially the morning shift, would always check in on him to see if there was anything he needed.
He never knew how to answer that question.
TK trails his index finger slowly up Carlos’ arm, reaching his elbow before sliding it back down. He tries for a smile, because it had been good news, but he knows all his smiles have lost their usual light.
But still, he tries.
“She managed to secure the venue we wanted, so we don’t have to keep on planning for two different ones if this one fell through. Apparently, the couple who scheduled for that day cancelled, so the place is all ours.” It still feels a little awkward talking while knowing that the person listening couldn’t answer, and continuing the conversation anyway. But he wants Carlos to know that he’s here, with more than just the tight grip he has on his hand.
“You know,” TK looks up to peer at Carlos’ slack expression, watching his chest rise and fall in time to his breathing. “I’ve never thought I could hate my blood type until they told me I couldn’t help you.”
The moment they jumped out of the ambulance and wheeled Carlos into the hospital, his pulse having stopped twice on the way, he knew the scissors hadn’t landed in a good place. He remembered looking at his captain, seeing her face draining in colour with each passing minute as Carlos would just not stop bleeding.
And then the doctors confirmed it.
He needed a liver transplant.
Not an entire liver, just a part of it to make up for the piece that he lost from the absolutely stellar aim the woman had that would never recover.
His fiancé was O negative, and he was B positive. An automatic no.
It almost makes him want to laugh, how ironic the situation was. Here he was, part of the 9% that could help cure the rarest diseases and he couldn’t even help his fiancé by giving him half of his liver. Then there was the fact that Carlos had the universal donor blood, and yet was the worst acceptor.
They truly made quite the pair.
He hated it.
Luckily, they had found a match soon after, but it was still too soon to tell the other complications that could arise. And the most important one of all was whether Carlos would wake up at all.
Someone buttoning for the nurses shakes him out of his thoughts, and for the millionth time since Carlos was first admitted to the hospital a week ago, he’s greeted with closed eyes and stillness.
TK gently runs his thumb along the dips and falls of Carlos’ knuckles, pausing at the definite bump where his engagement ring rested. They opted to get separate rings done for their line of work for safety reasons, but he knew that Carlos always wore the authentic one during desk duty or when he wasn’t out on patrol. He remembered putting on his own in the waiting room, wanting to feel a piece of him as he stared at the doors that would determine their future.
“Last I checked, a wedding takes two people.” TK whispers, biting down on his lower lip, hard, to stop the sob that threatened to burst through at the sight of their rings next to each other.
“I can’t get married by myself, you know?”
.
He goes back to work on the 12th day.
Tommy and Nancy had immediately protested, reminding him that he could take his time – that he could take all the time he needed before coming back.
But he just offered them a small smile, and signed himself in.
“He would’ve wanted me to take a walk, take a breather.” TK says quietly, swallowing past the stones lodged in his throat and looking at them fully.
“I’m taking a breather. And then I’m going back.” TK doesn’t say anything more, and Nancy and Tommy don’t push. He feels a hand squeeze his shoulder and accepts a light hug from Nancy, before they enter work mode.
He works. He stocks up the ambulance. He checks their supplies. He saves people. He gets a distraction.
When his dad asks him if he needs a ride back, he asks to be dropped off at home for the first time.
Owen looks at him when they reach a red light, his eyes filled with concern. TK just looks straight ahead, unmoving.
“TK, you don’t have to force yourself to-”
“That’s not what I’m doing.” TK spat, suddenly feeling a burst of anger at his father’s words, knowing how that sentence was going to end.
He wasn’t giving up. He wasn’t moving on. He was moving forward.
“I’m going home, because I need to straighten the blankets on the couch. I need to tidy up the– the wedding magazines we were too tired to clean up that night, I need to wash the dishes I left in a hurry to get to work. I am going home, because I want to make sure that when he comes back, it’s to a clean place where he can relax. So he can be at ease.” TK knows he’s talking at a volume that’s way too loud for being inside a car, and he feels himself taking deep breaths, his hands shaking in his lap. He doesn’t look up, but hears his father turn on the blinker, the gravel crunching under the wheels as they make a turn.
“Okay.”
Okay.
.
It was a split second.
He’s grown so used to looking up and seeing eyes that were shut away from the world that when he looks up again a few moments later to see tired brown orbs trained on him, he almost looks away until he realizes wait-
TK shoots up from his seat, almost sending the cup of coffee beside him splattering to the ground.
He can’t speak, the words begging to come out and clawing at his throat, but he could only stare blankly as Carlos blinked, letting out a quiet groan as he slowly adjusted to the lights.
And then his medic instincts kick in.
“You’re awake. Okay. Okay, uh, water. Your throat must be dry as hell. I need to get water. And a nurse, oh my god I need to call the nurse–” He turns around frantically to locate the red button, scowling when he can’t locate it when he swears he had seen it just a few minutes ago-
“Hey,”
It’s extremely quiet, croaky, the end coming out cracked from the long period of non-use but it’s the single most beautiful thing TK has heard in his life. There’s a squeeze on the tips of his fingers, and he just realizes that he hadn’t let go of Carlos’ hand.
“Come here.”
The two whispered words tear apart the film that guards his eyes, and he feels tears blurring his vision as they tunnel in on the smile he’s wanted to see for so long.
But no, he couldn’t go, not yet.
“I need to get a nurse. You-I can’t-” TK is about to just leave the room to barrel into the nurse’s station, but the hold on his hand tightens, the grip surprisingly strong and keeping him in place.
“The only thing – the only person I need right now is you,” Carlos rasps, his eyes turning pleading, and TK immediately stops trying to break out of his hold. But he still doesn’t move from his spot a few feet away from the bed, just staring at his fiancé who is awake.
He’s looking at him and he’s awake.
And suddenly he can’t close the distance between them fast enough.
He places a hand beside Carlos’ pillow gently, the other cupping his cheek. He lowers his head to the crook of Carlos’ neck, and though he’s done this so many times when the other was unconscious, it fills him with a new sense of vitality when he knows that this time when he looks up, Carlos will be looking back.
He lets out a soft sound of protest when he feels Carlos weakly pushing himself up, wanting to stay in his arms forever. There’s a feather-light kiss on the crown of his head, and he feels a weight rest on top of it.
“You don’t have to look up, but…” Carlos trails off, and TK finally lifts his head to meet Carlos’ gaze, who’s looking at him with shining eyes. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.”
Something in his chest aches. It’s suddenly so hard to breathe, but at the same time, TK feels like this is the first real breath he’s taken for the past two weeks.
He can’t find the words, can’t find it in himself to do anything other than just stare at the man lying beneath him, eyes open and alert and warm.
“I didn’t miss our wedding, did I?”
The words punch the breath right out of his lungs, and he wonders if he’ll ever be able to breathe properly for a while. He couldn’t hold back a half-sob, half-laugh at that, closing his eyes as the tears, finally, steadily trickle down his cheeks.
“You wake up after two weeks in a coma and that’s the first thing you worry about?” TK laughs wetly, wiping his cheeks hastily as more laughter bubbles in him at Carlos’ startled look.
“Two weeks?” His fiancé’s eyes are wide, searching his, and TK nods, covering his mouth with a hand to try and hold back his mess of emotions right now.
“Everyone’s been coming by to check in on you. We’ve all been waiting for you to come back to us,” TK says quietly, running a hand through his curls.
Something passed over Carlos’ face then, and he looks down at him questioningly.
“You waited two whole weeks for me to wake up?” TK pauses in his administrations with Carlos’ hair. He smiles sadly, hearing the hint of awe in his fiancé’s voice. He moves to cup Carlos’ face between his hands, chuckling wetly.
Leaning down, he presses a tender kiss on Carlos’ forehead, smiling into his skin.
“I would have waited an eternity just to have five more minutes with you.” He murmurs in the small space between them, and he feels Carlos’ hold on his arm tighten. He can feel the bed shaking at the silent tears that trail down Carlos’ face, and he feels the familiar stinging behind his eyes.
Later, he would be messaging the group chat on the new developments, and he would be greeted with multiple exclamation marks and caps locked messages back as they all message him that they’re on their way. He would button for the nurses, finally procuring the button from underneath Carlos’ pillow and there would be a flurry of activity as the nurses call in the doctor for more questions and a final statement.
Their friends and family would arrive, some of them bringing food and others bringing more flowers and teddy bears to fill the already-decorated room. Andrea would wrap him up in a tight hug, and Gabriel tugs him into a hug of his own.
There would be more hugs shared, tears to be shed, and heartfelt words to be spoken.
But right now, TK lets himself immerse in the moment, as he and Carlos finally breathe.
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hideaway | anakin skywalker
pairing: anakin x nonjedi!reader
word count: 2,3k
summary: where y/n wants to surprise anakin but is in for a big surprise herself
a/n: anakin owns my whole heart. hope you enjoy it~
warnings: none
universe: star wars
The smell of freshly roasted vegetables and meat fills your nostrils as you turn the stove up a notch, humming to yourself. You are by no means a five star chef, but your cooking skills are still very good. After all, your mother always made sure that you learn from her amazing skills in the kitchen. In the end what matters is how it tastes and until now you have never failed.
You keep checking the time on the clock on the wall, waiting for it to point at a certain time. You can't wait until he finally comes home. You've been counting the days and hours, even minutes until Anakin arrives back from his mission with Obi-Wan on Naboo. Anakin wasn't allowed to tell you anything about the mission of course, so you can only hope that it was a peaceful mission. Not only do you not want him to get injured, but then your planned surprise meal after his return would also be superfluous.
According to your calculation, it should take another half an hour for their spaceship to land on Coruscant, plus the time it takes Anakin to get to his apartment, where you currently are. The mission was scheduled for five days and you spent the entire time in his apartment. He gave you a spare key months ago because he noticed how much you always miss him every time he is not on the planet. In fact, it actually helped. Everything here makes it feel like he is only in the next room and not on a whole different planet and thus makes your fear for him less.
You've thought and talked about moving in together before, but there is one tiny little problem with that: nobody knows about your and Anakin Skywalker's relationship. Since he is a Jedi, a great and powerful one at that, he has to follow the Jedi Code. A Code that governs the behavior of its followers which, in this case, forbids Jedis from forming attachments. While they do not ban romantic feelings in general, Jedi's are not meant to get married or built up a family. Their only task is to bring peace to the galaxy.
And if the Jedi Order finds out about this relationship, it won't end well for neither of you. Until now you've always been able to hide it well, even if there were occasional moments when it almost got blown up. Somehow you always managed to keep it a secret though and you are very happy about that.
You stir the vegetables one more time and then throw yourself onto the large leather couch while you wait. And wait and wait. No matter how long you close your eyes and just breathe in the pleasent smell around you, time still doesn't go by faster.
You just want to hug him again, kiss him again and just be with him. It may have only been five days, but you still feel like you haven't seen him in months when it wasn't even a whole week. You have been a couple for two years now, have known each other for five of them and loved each other for four, and yet you love him like you did on the first day. There is just something special about him that makes your heart flutter every single time.
The way he looks at you, the way his eyes light up when he smiles - god, his whole apperance in general - you can't help but fall in love with him all over again. Anakin Skywalker is the love of your life and you can't imagine him to not be part of your life anymore.
While being indulged in your thoughts you don't even hear the steps approaching the front door at first and the electronic door opening a few seconds later. You jump up from the sofa immediately and are just about to go in the hallway leading directly to the door full of anticipation when you suddenly hear a different voice than Anakin's, which causes you to stiffly pause in your movement.
"I will send report about our successful mission to the Jedi Council instantly", you hear the male voice say, realizing that it is no other than Obi-Wan. Your eyes widen in shock. If Obi-Wan finds you here, in the middle of Anakin's apartment, it's over.
Looking back and forth, you search for a suitable hiding spot. You notice the cupboard at the end of the entrance area that would provide perfect protection, which you can only get to by walking past the hallway while risking to be seen. Since you can't think of anything better in this hurry, you sneak to the hallway as quietly as possible.
You look around the corner carefully just to see both men, still dressed in their full gear, standing in front of the entrance, Obi-Wan holding a holoprojector in his left hand and seemingly struggling with making it work the way he wants. Your gaze wanders to Anakin, who is standing in front of his master and trys to help him with the device. You can't help but stare at him for a few seconds. He looks breathtaking and you can feel your heart skip a beat.
And suddenly it feels like your heart completely stops at the exact moment where Anakins turns around and directly looks at you. The confusion is clearly written on his beautiful face, - which, to your surprise, doesn't have any bad injuries this time - but if you only knew how much he would love to just run to you and take you his his arms tightly, lifting you off the floor. But since Obi-Wan is still in the room, that turns out to be difficult.
With a slight head movement you indicate to the cupboard, Anakin understanding your intention immediately. Just as Obi-Wan looks up, Anakin steps in his way so that there is no possibility for him to spot you. "Let me see the holoprojector, master", Anakin tells him, reaching out for it, distracting him from what you are doing in the background.
You tiptoe across the hallway and climb into the cupboard without making any sound the very moment Anakin got the projector working. The closet is pretty narrow and you even keep your breathing quiet.
"I think I don't tell you this enough but you actually did very good out there. I'm proud of you, Anakin", Obi-Wan tells his Padawan as they walk past you and internally you feel how happy Anakin is about those words. "But was it really necessary to blow up the escaping droids?", Obi-Wan adds with serious tone but lets out a laugh soon after that.
You take in a deep breath which suddenly makes you realize that there still is something you haven't even thought about before: the food. It's still boiling on the stove, spreading a delicious smell through the rooms. How is Anakin supposed to explain that, when he didn't even know about it himself?
"Anakin. You should have listend to me when you- What is this burnt smell?", Obi-Wan interrupts himself while speaking, smelling the same odour as you did moments before. Seconds later you can hear their steps moving away as they run into the kitchen. "What is happening here?! Why is there food cooking?", Obi-Wan shouts but you can't hear more as the sound of steaming water drowns out their conversation. Anakin must have thrown the pan in the sink or otherwise you can't explain where the noise is supposed to be coming from.
"It was probably the.. the cleaning lady! Yes, the cleaning lady must have forgotten it by mistake", Anakin trys to talk his way out of the situation after the noise has quiet down. "Since when do you have a cleaner?", his master asks suspiciously. "Not very long. Since the last.. month?", Anakin explains - or tries to - not really convincingly.
Silence. There is an unbearable silence before Obi-Wan starts laughing out loud all of a sudden. "You should definetely find another one if she almost burns your appartment down. However, I could use one too..", he advises his Padawan and you can hear him coming back, lowering your breath again instantly.
"I better go now and send off the report to the Council. Master Yoda wanted to talk to me later anyway. You still have a bit of cleaning to do and..", Obi-Wan pauses in the middle of his sentence, making your breath hitch. "You should really get that lady out of your closet before she suffocates."
Your whole body stiffens at his words and the door to your hiding place opens. "Hello there", Obi-Wan looks at you expectantly. "Y/N, isn't it?" You nod carefully and look to the ground in shame after climbing out of the closet.
"It's- It's not what it looks like, master", Anakin stutters out and pulls you behind him, protecting you from whatever is coming towards you next. "Well, what does it look like?", Obi-Wan counters and crosses his arms.
You touch Anakin's arm lightly, searching for support, and look past him to Obi-Wan, who is watching you both closely. "I'm waiting", Obi-Wan sighs and puts his arms on his hips. "I don't have all day, you know."
You take all your courage and take a step forward. "It's my fault. I wanted.. I just wanted to surprise Anakin and welcome him back home", you explain with a low voice, not daring to look at Obi-Wan directly. "That still doesn't explain why you are in his appartment in the first place", he says with raised eyebrows and you look back at Anakin.
Anakin looks like he's contemplating about what to do next and then takes your hand in his as he made his decision, standing next to you now. "Master. I'm in love with Y/N and she loves me. We.. secretly dated and got together. I wanted to tell you. I always wanted to tell you, but there just wasn't the right opportunity and-"
"And you thought it would be better to not tell me about this at all? Ever?", Obi-Wan finishs Anakin's sentence. "Where do you think you are going with this? You know the Jedi Code, Anakin. You broke the rules."
"This stupid code is totally outdated and unnecessary anyway! We never meant to fall in love with each other, sometimes it just happens. We knew the day would come when someone finds out about us. We know that it.. has no future. But you can't just turn off your feelings. It is not possible", you rant and feel Anakin's hold on your hand tighten. "Please don't tell the Jedi Council and please don't throw Anakin out. You can punish me, but not him. He dedicated all his life to the Jedi Code and.. I don't want his life to get destroyed because of me."
You feel yourself get pulled to the side harshly. "What are you even saying, Y/N?! Stop that nonsense!", Anakin whisper-yells at you. "I can't live with the thought that I will destroy your future, Ani. I could never be happy agai-"
"Who said I would tell anyone?", Obi-Wan interrupts you two, making both of you look at him in confusion. "Listen, I don't support Anakin's or your actions but what happend, happend, we can't change that and I'm actually kind of happy that Anakin found someone who stays by his side."
Your mouth opens wide in shock and you look at him with pure disbelieve. "You.. what?", Anakin bursts out, seeming equally shocked and confused. "Why shouldn't I be happy for my Padawan, who is like a brother to me, when he finds the right woman, maybe his soulmate?", Obi-Wan tells you and the corners of his mouth rise. "I won't tell anyone about it, but you have to be really careful. If Master Windu oder Master Yoda find out about your relationship, I won't be able to help you. It will be over. You can be glad that it's just me who found out."
Without thinking twice, you happily hug Obi-Wan and Anakin does the same. "Thank you, Obi-Wan", Anakin smiles and lays an arm around your waist as soon as you move away from Obi-Wan. "I'll correct what I said earlier: You both still have a lot to clean up. Enjoy yourselves", Obi-Wan giggles and turns around to go back to the elevator.
Before he leaves though, he turns around one last time. "And for your information: I already felt that she is in here before we even got into the apartment. Good evening", Obi-Wan bows down slightly and leaves.
Silence spreads again, but this time a pleasant one. "What did just happen?", Anakin asks and shakes his head to get a clear thought, brushing through his hair with his mechanical hand. "I have no idea but I think we got away with it", you answer and turn to look at him, both of his hands now on each side of your waist.
"I missed you so much, Anakin", you smile and take in every feature of his beautiful structured face. Your hand comes up to his cheek and you softly stroke over his skin with your thumb. "I missed you more", he whispers and turns his face to lightly kiss the inside of your hand, which makes you giggle. He slowly leans in and finally connects your lips again. His scent flows around you and your hand clings to his brown locks.
When he breaks the sensual kiss, he leans his forehead against yours and smiles at you gently. You can feel his hands sneak around your hip as he suddenly lifts you off the floor and spins you around a few times, making you both laugh. After he puts you onto the ground again, he pecks your lips one more time before retreating completely, only keeping your hands connected.
"So, you wanted to surprise me with food?", he teases with that stupid smile on his face that you love so much. Feeling offended, you hit his arm playfully. In response, he chuckles and just pulls you behind him into the kitchen, where you clean up the mess you made before settling yourself up on the couch, cuddling for the rest of the day.
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Riding High
Ch13: Crazy Days, But You’ll Get Me Through
Chapter Summary: Frankie boi be loving Sundays…and Mondays and Tuesdays and Wednesday and Thursdays and Fridays and Saturdays.
Chapter Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW,NO UNDER 18s)
Chapter Pairings: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher
A/N: And we’re launching into Part 2! Jumping forward a few Months to March 2018, and a lot has changed for Friss!
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Riding High Masterlist // Main Masterlist
Chapter 12
March 2018
Sundays were fast becoming Frank's favourite day of the week. The one day out of seven where no one needed to be anywhere. There was no work, no school, no horse yard to sort. He was free to lay in bed until mid-morning, snuggled up to his girl until either his bladder or his stomach or Mary dictated that he needed to move.
Sundays simply consisted of lazy morning sex, snuggles, lazing by the pool or the hot-tub in the afternoon, maybe a trip to the beach and then Verity's famous roast dinner before crashing in front of the TV and heading back to bed ready for Monday, whereby the hectic week schedule would start again.
Yup, Frank loved Sundays.
But if he was honest, he kinda liked every other day of the week too. It hadn’t taken long for him and Fliss to fall into a natural and easy routine, and here they were some four and a bit months later. Friday was date night meaning they got a night alone to either go out or sit in the apartment with a take-out or enjoy a BBQ and a bottle of wine and a few beers, just the two of them. Saturdays and Sundays were spent at the Fliss’ place with Mary, and then Fliss stayed at their apartment on a Tuesday and a Wednesday. As Tuesday was the one day a week Frank worked late, Frank would nine times out of ten come home to find Mary doing her homework and Fliss in the kitchen making something for dinner.
If you were looking from the outside-in, it was all so domestic, so mundane, so fucking simple, but he f loved it.
What he also loved was seeing more of his girl as her hours spent at the yard had levelled out too, thanks to a drastic change in the direction her work had taken. After an undercover reporter had visited her yard in January and given an absolutely amazing review, Fliss had found herself inundated with new clients. There were people clamouring for lessons both at the Riding Centre and requesting her to travel to their stables to teach them on their own horses. She was also being asked to school and train peoples horses, back young horses, deal with problem ones and had been turning people down at first due to limited capacity. Seeing her stress about doing so, Bill and Frank had spent two weekends at the beginning of February building another four stables at the back of the private barn for her client's horses and she'd promoted Joanne to Yard Manager, meaning the other woman was now responsible for the day to day management of the stables, organising the staff rotas and scheduling lessons leaving Fliss to concentrate on everything else.
Seeing his girl flourish and her excitement at finally getting her business to where she wanted it to be was something Frank loved to see, and he enjoyed listening to her gush on and on about the horses and her clients, even though he had no idea half the time what she was going on about.
But Sundays…there was none of that to think about. No lunches to make, no Scouts Uniforms to sort, no horses to feed, absolutely fucking nothing to do.
Well, apart from one thing.
He stretched out slightly, and turned onto his side, his arms curling round Fliss as he pulled her closer to him, gently nuzzling into her hair. His eyes still closed, he heard Thor give a yawn from the basket at the foot of the bed, and then Mary's voice hit his ear as she was talking to Fred in the spare room, well, he supposed it was now her room now. She fell silent again and he knew she'd be watching something on the TV that they'd installed in there for her, or doing some maths puzzles on the laptop. It would keep her occupied for a good hour before she started to kick up a fuss about wanting breakfast. With a soft grin he gently pressed closer to Fliss, kissing up the back of her neck, his hand sliding down the outside of her thigh before he reached the back of her knee. She stirred a little, making a soft noise of contentment as his lips softly kissed beneath her ear and he saw her mouth curve into a smile.
“Morning, Handsome.” She whispered.
“Morning, Beautiful.” His voice was gruff from slip, lips still pressing kisses to her skin, his hand now caressing the inside of her bare thigh. She shifted slightly as he gently grasped at her knee, pulling it back towards him and hooking it over his hip, holding her open for him. His hand gently traced a line down and under the fabric of the shirt she was wearing and she sighed at the feeling of his rough hands being ever so soft as his fingertips danced across the skin below her naval before they dipped into her panties, fingers caressing her warmth. She let out a soft keen as she arched her back slightly, his mouth still nipping at the skin underneath her ear.
“You know,” he purred softly, his fingers continuing their soft, deliberate teasing, “you’re always so gorgeous in the mornings.” “What, complete with bed hair and…” Her words died in her mouth as she let out a squeak when he inserted to fingers into her with a quick flick of his wrist.
“Especially with bed hair.” He grinned, nipping at her ear lobe. He curled his fingers, as if he was beckoning to someone, stroking her spot whilst his palm pressed against her clit. Soon, her hips were moving gently in time with his actions, her soft moans swallowed as she turned her face to press into her pillows.
“Come on, baby.” He encouraged softly, before her lips parted and she gave a sigh of his name, her hand wrapping around his wrist as her eyes fluttered shut and he felt her tightening, squeezing against his fingers and he watched, enjoying the way she came undone with such an easy action. Withdrawing his hand, he shimmied softly, sliding his boxers over his hips before he slid her panties down, and he felt her raise her other leg to slide them down over her knees with her foot, an action he still found ridiculously sexy.
“Minx.” He mumbled, and she let out a soft chuckle as he took her leg and placed it back where it had been. With a slow, soft push forwards and upwards he slid into her, his head dropping forward onto her shoulder, nipping at her skin beneath her shirt as he took a moment to relish how she felt around him, always so tight and deep from this angle.
His pace was lazy from the off, hardly putting any action into his thrusts, merely rocking his hips upwards, his hand gently grasping at her hip to keep them joined. The arm that was resting under her neck moved and with his hand under her chin he tilted her head round so that he could capture her mouth in a lazy, sloppy kiss that was all tongues.
Fuck, he loved this woman.
His hand slid up her shirt to gently brush against her breast, fingers softly tweaking at her nipple and she groaned into his mouth, Frank’s lips smiling against hers as he repeated the action, a simple move he knew worked her up something ridiculous, and before long she was begging him not to stop, which, of course, he had no intentions of doing. He kept up that soft, languid pace until the end, when her head fell against him and her back arched again, a single cry of his name, “Frankie” escaped her mouth before she let out a low moan and he felt her tightening around him. Her leg shook slightly as her orgasm continued, her moans eventually dying out as, with a few more rolls of his hips he felt his own creeping up. He picked up the pace slightly and his hips stuttered, his rhythm faltered and he tumbled off the precipice he had been teetering on with a soft grunt and a groan of her name, before his head fell forward, resting against the back of her neck.
They were both silent for a while, breathing deeply as they drifted down from their high together, before he gently moved out of her, his arm round her waist pulling her close as she let out a contented sigh.
“Love you.” He said softly, kissing the back of her neck before she turned in his arm, snuggling into his chest.
“Love you more.”
“Uh-uh, not possible.” He said, easily slipping into the well-worn joke argument. They continued to insist each one of them loved the other more until Fliss childishly used the “infinity no come-backs” line and he chuckled, simply holding her close, basking in the feel of her pressed against him.
Yup, Frank fucking loved Sundays.
*****
After a breakfast of pancakes and bacon, eaten around the coffee table in the front room, Mary headed off with Bill and the dogs for a walk along the river and down the boardwalk. Frank picked his laptop up and headed outside with Fliss who stretched out on the outside sofa, nose buried in her latest book on her Kindle. What was such a normal thing for most people in life, had been a pretty big issue to her at first as, the first time she’d picked up a book she’d asked him if he minded if she read for a while, before admitting to him shyly that it was something John had never really liked her doing when she was with him, as he wanted her attention on him all the time. Frank had made a point, therefore, of telling her if she wanted to curl up beside him and use him as a footstool whilst she read for hours on end he didn’t give a shit. In fact, her reading had lead him to re-discover the habit too, but whilst Fliss favoured crime, fantasy or thriller fiction, he preferred to read things based on theories or Philosophy.
But not at that moment, he was still on the search for a new apartment. A search that so far hadn’t thrown anything up.
He sat at the table in the shade and opened up the usual search browsers and started looking at the available list of apartments, googling their location, tracking how far each one was from key places such as his work, Mary’s school, the yard… before letting out a heavy sigh. Fliss glanced up over her shades and frowned.
“What’s wrong?” “Looking for apartments.” He blew out a loud breath, sitting back. “Everything that’s in the areas that are suitable are like sixteen-hundred a month or more.” He scratched at his chin. “I mean, I could stretch to it but it won’t leave a lot spare once the bills and food and stuff are taken care of.”
Fliss watched him as he continued scanning through the pages before he gave another groan and shut the lap top a little heavily. Setting her kindle down, she stood up and made her way over, dropping her hands round his neck.
“Do you need a lot spare?”
“Not really, but it’s nice to have. I’ve been trying to set some aside you know for when Mary gets older and the grants stop but I’ve never really had much to do that with, not until starting this new job anyway.” “Look at you, getting all grown up and responsible.” She teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek and he laughed softly, rubbing her arms.
“You’re clearly a good influence.” He smiled before he bit his lip. “You know, I’m probably just gonna have to suck it up. I can always ask for extra hours I suppose.” “You have a couple of months yet.” Fliss soothed gently. “And, you know, if absolute worst comes to worst you can just move in here. There’s enough room for me back in the house if we need time apart.” Frank turned his head to look at her, a hurt expression on his face. “You think we’d need time apart?” Fliss shook her head “No, I’m just staying we’ve only been together a few months and it’s a bit soon to be thinking about that and...”
As she babbled on he couldn’t keep it up anymore and broke into a laugh.
“Oh,” she slapped his arm as she realised he was teasing and he pushed the chair back further and pulled her down onto his lap, “you’re such a dick.”
“It’s been said.” He nodded, his hand rubbing at her back as she laughed.
“Don’t worry about it.” She looked at him. “Something will come up. Is there nothing on the park where you are now?”
“Not that I know of.” He said, after a moment’s pause. “Roberta’s pretty in the know on all that and she said she’d keep her eyes open. Besides, I was kinda wanting to move off there.” “Why?” Fliss looked at him.
“It’s not exactly upmarket.”
“Neither are you.” She snorted.
“Thanks, Sweetheart.” He rolled his eyes.
“No, what I mean is that you’re happy and settled there. It might not high-brow living but believe me, that’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Snobby assed neighbours peeking through curtains, arguments over who’s parked their Mercedes in the way of someone else’s Porsche, no thanks.” She pulled a face. “Where you are is nice and relaxed, there’s never any trouble, it’s quiet on the main and Roberta’s nearby.”
“Yeah I know.” Frank nodded leaning up to give her a peck on the lips. “Like you say, something will come up.”
“Anyway, change of subject,” Fliss wrapped her arms round his neck. “It’s your birthday on Wednesday.” Frank groaned “Don’t remind me…” “Thirty-seven. Old bastard.”
He narrowed his eyes “I’m only three years older than you.”
“Three years and three months, thank you.” she said.
“And I suppose those three months make all the difference?”
She nodded and he laughed, shaking his head.
“What do you wanna do?” she asked.
“It’s a Wednesday.” He shrugged. “Honestly? I’m happy with bowling and a burger as per the usual routine, maybe me and you can go out on the Friday night?”
“Sounds good.”
“We can go to Ferg’s and I can reminisce about my Friday Fuckboy antics.” he teased “Take you back the apartment and do you on the couch.”
“You did other girls on that couch?” she looked at him frowning. He hesitated for a moment before he smirked.
“Not on that one, no.”
**** “Frank!”
He turned to look at Roberta as she was walking out of her house and over to him.
“Hey.” He smiled, “You ok?”
“Yeah, I wanted to give you this for tomorrow.” She smiled, handing him a small gift bag.
“Roberta, you didn’t have to get me anything. Thank you.” He smiled.
“It’s not much so don’t be getting excited.” She shrugged “But I do have something else that might be worth excitement.”
“What?”
“A 2 Bed Apartment, one block down.”
Frank looked at her. “You serious?”
She nodded “Heard Pat and Maria talking about it before…”
Frank had no idea who Pat and Maria were, but he didn’t bother to tell her that.
“According to them, number 2457 has been vacated. The landlord had a bit of trouble with the previous tenants, they’d trashed the place after he issued them an eviction notice for not paying the rent.”
Frank rolled his eyes. “Nice. How much was he letting it for?”
“Bout nine-hundred a month I think.” Roberta thought for a moment. Frank pondered, that was do-able…
“I popped in to see him before.” She continued and Frank smirked.
“Course you did.”
“Oh hush. I only went because apparently he was talking about doing the place up and selling, says he’s had enough of ass holes renting. But when I said I’d give you a reference he said he’d think about it and that if you go and see him he might be willing to do a deal.”
“A deal?” Frank frowned
“Yeah, as in let to you at a lower rate if you do the repairs.”
Frank considered this for a moment. He was pretty good with his hands when it came to stuff like that. Providing there wasn’t anything majorly wrong he should be able to fix the place up, and he was sure if he asked Bill would help.
“You got his number?” He looked at Roberta and she smiled, handing him a piece of paper.
“Give him a call in the morning.”
“I will, thanks Roberta.” He folded the paper and stuck it in his back pocket before he grinned and arched an eyebrow “You still ok to have Mary on Friday?” “I’m not even going to answer that.” She rolled her eyes as she turned and headed back towards her house.
Frank walked into his kitchen and was instantly hit with the smell of food and the noise of a familiar song playing from the Bluetooth speakers that sat on the window sill. He tossed his keys onto the table and moved behind Fliss, his hands falling to her hips as she smiled, drizzling dressing over the bowl of salad in front of her. He dropped a kiss to her neck and gently spun her round, causing her to giggle as he took her in a dancing hold and twirled her round the small space as Jason Mraz continued to sing I'm Yours.
"Get off you idiot." She laughed and he smiled, letting go as she pushed on his chest gently, her hands falling to his biceps as she took in his filthy T-shirt, biting her lip softly. There was something about seeing him full of grease and whatever other shit he’d been working with all day that made her a little bit hot under the collar.
"Good day?" He asked and she smiled.
"Not bad at all. Think I've picked up another client."
"Yeah?" He reached into the salad bowl and picked out a piece of cucumber.
"Yeah at the same yard I was teaching at today." She slapped at his hand "Gonna have to start turning people away again soon, my schedule is chocca"
He pressed a kiss to her cheek and wandered into the main room where Mary was sat scribbling on something which rest on the coffee table.
"T'ya doing Stack?" He asked, his hand dropping to her hair.
"Filling my Scout journal in for my first badge!" She smiled.
“Badge huh? What for?”
“Animal care, look." Frank peered over to see a picture of her and Monty stuck in the book, which she was writing underneath. "Fliss printed it for me.”
Frank smiled and headed into his room to grab a fresh towel from the laundry pile before he made his way into the bathroom to shower before dinner.
By the time he was done, Mary was already sat at the kitchen table, food on her plate. Frank quickly dried off, dressed and headed back, sitting down opposite her.
"So, I may have found an apartment." He helped himself to the salad to accompany the chicken and rice.
"Yeah?" Fliss looked at him "Where?"
"A few rows down from here. Roberta found it actually"
"So we don’t have to move far?" Mary's face lit up.
"Well I gotta see it first. Apparently it needs a bit of work, but Roberta thinks that if I do it, the landlord will rent at a discount." He shovelled a fork of food unto his mouth and made an appreciative noise as the Mexican flavour on the rice hit his taste buds. "S'good"
"You want me to ask Dad to take a look with you?" Fliss asked and Frank smiled.
"I'll do it." He nodded "Be good to have his opinion"
They ate the rest of their food before Mary took off again to finish her journal, Fliss kneeling besides her helping her get her words in order whilst Frank did the dishes. He then picked up the small pile of mail that was on the side, Fliss having collected it before, and shuffled through it. There was a utility bill that he gave a cursory glance to, his credit card statement, yeah that could wait, and then a larger envelope that made him stop dead. It felt like a birthday card, and he knew instantly from the writing who it was from. Sliding a finger underneath the top of the flap he pulled the card out and raised an eyebrow slightly at the signature before he picked up the note that had dropped onto the table.
Frank,
I expect that the face you’re pulling right now is the usual one you pull when you’re either confused or slightly annoyed, or maybe a combination of both, and I don’t blame you.
I wanted to let you know that Diane’s work is currently being debated across the academic world, she’s getting the recognition she rightly deserved, and I can’t claim all the credit for that, some of it has to go to you.
I know that nothing will ever make up for what I put you and Mary through but I wanted to at least try and make some form of amends. By the time you read this the remainder of your legal bill will have been cleared. It’s the least I could do.
I’d also really like to get to know Mary a little more, perhaps I could arrange to visit when you feel the time is right, on your terms obviously. My number is below, maybe when you’ve considered this you can give me a call.
Happy birthday.
Evelyn.
What-the-actual-fuck?
He re-read the note again, a slight frown on his face. He already knew full well all about who was debating Diane’s work because, whilst he had never told anyone, he’d been keeping a close eye on it across the internet. And as for his legal bill….well, he had been paying Greg off in instalments, a couple of hundred each month but even at his heavily discounted rate he had over three-hundred left to fund. So he wasn’t going to lie, that would be a major help. But he couldn’t help but feel this was nothing but a bribe, an attempted sweetener, which was typical of his mother, thinking she could throw money at something and make it all better.
“What you got there?”
He looked up to see Fliss paused in the doorway.
“Read it and see.” he handed her the note.
He reached into the fridge for two beers and flipped the lids off, watching Fliss’s facial reactions as she scanned the note. Her brows raised that high they almost disappeared into her hair line and she pursed her lips, the nerve in her jaw twitching the way it always did when she was trying not to show she was pissed.
She finished and looked at him, shaking her head “Does she think that paying your legal bill which, she fucking caused in the first place, makes everything ok?”
Frank shrugged, smiling softly at Fliss’ utter indignation on his behalf.
“I’d like to say she’s not that stupid but…” Frank handed her a beer as he passed him back the note.
“What you gonna do about Mary?”
“It’s up to her.” Frank shrugged, “I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow and see what she says. If she wants to see Evelyn then I’m not going to stop her.”
Fliss didn’t reply, but Frank could see her mind was ticking over. Eventually she nodded.
“It’s your decision love, can’t say I’d be as accommodating given the circumstances.” Frank chuckled. “That’s because you’re a stubborn ass.”
“Says you.” she shot back.
He simply smiled in response before he asked. “Can you try and reason with Mary about it being time for her to get ready for bed? I need to call Greg.”
"Sure." Fliss nodded. She kissed his cheek before she headed into the living room and Frank heard Mary groan in protest. With a soft smile he stepped outside and scanned through his phone until he reached Greg's number.
"Hey man." Greg's warm voice greeted him. "I take it you heard from your mother?"
"So you do know." Frank replied, calmly.
"She called me, paid me and instructed me not to tell you. Said she was going to do that herself"
"Yeah she told me, sent me a note in the first birthday card I've had off her in nine years."
"Huh." Greg huffed "that's...nice?"
Frank snorted. “She wants contact with Mary, but, like I said, that’s down to Stack.”
"Well you know I got your back man so, if you need me to do anything just holler."
"I know, thanks. Hey, what you doing Friday? Was thinking about grabbing a few beers seeing as I'll have completed another circuit around the sun."
"Man, we're out already. Sorry." Greg sighed "but soon yeah, why don't you, Mary and Fliss come over or something one Saturday? We'll cook out"
"Sounds great." Frank nodded.
"Alright well, have a great day tomorrow and don’t worry about your mother man, she's absolutely no rights here."
"I'm not.” Frank said honestly. “I’m more curious than worried"
"Curiosity killed the cat, Frank.” Greg said after a pause.
"Well as long as it ain't Fred..."
****** For the first time in, well, years, the next morning Frank had the excitement of opening a pile of presents for his birthday. The main one, which he was stunned by, was a beautiful new Holzkern leadwood and marble watch from Fliss, along with a few polo-shirts and a bottle of his preferred aftershave- Paco Rabane Invictus. He also got a new tool box from Mary, which contained various boxes and bags of sweets, and his present from Roberta was a gift token for the local electronic store and a four pack. Once the gifts were open, he was stuffed full of pancakes and packed off to work for the day. It passed pretty quickly, the guys in the workshop had decorated his particular bench with banners and balloons, and caused exactly the type of fuss that grumpy Frank would have hated. But because happy Frank was out to play that day, he took it well, and enjoyed several of the donuts along with a Starbucks coffee round that Alan had brought in, a tradition apparently when they had a birthday in the place.
He managed to finish on time and headed over to collect Mary from after school club. He walked into the school grounds and round to the playing fields at the back, where he paused for a moment and watched as they were engaged in some kind of ball game. When there was a natural break, he caught her attention and she bounded over, her cheeks flushed from the activity and he gave Bonnie a smile and a nod before they headed to the truck.
“Good day, Stack?”
“Yeah.” She nodded “We did some creative writing and art. It was fun.”
“Cool.” He said as they both climbed into their seats. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.” “Okay…”
“Evelyn. She sent me a birthday card, and it had a letter inside. She wants to see you.” “I don’t have to go live with her do I?” Mary’s eyes widened and Frank shook his head.
“No, all that’s sorted. You’re not going anywhere. And you don’t have to see her either if you don’t want to. It’s your call.”
“What do you think I should do?”
“I can’t answer that, Mary.” He shook his head “Like I told you a while back about the whole God debate you drew me into. I have my opinions and thoughts, but why would I want to cloud yours with my own.”
Mary pondered for a moment before she nodded, accepting his answer “Okay, I get it.”
“So I want you to think about it and let me know what you decide.” He looked at her. “And whatever it is, that’s fine by me. “
She nodded to show she’d understood and with that Frank set off and, once he had turned onto the main road back to the apartment, he glanced back over at her.
“On a change of subject, I’m going to look at that other apartment on Friday.”
“The one near us?”
“Uh, huh.”
“Cool.” Mary nodded. “Hey, Frank? Is Fliss going to live with us?”
Frank took a deep breath. “She’ll be doing what she does now. I expect some time down the line we’ll live together but not just yet, why do you ask?” Mary shrugged “Just curious.” “Would her living with us be a problem?”
“No.” Mary scoffed. “She makes miles better food than you, she makes better hot chocolate than you, she can braid my hair and she always wakes me up nicely in the morning instead of just yanking my covers off me and telling me to hop to it.” Frank looked at his niece and smirked. “So what you’re saying is she’s better than me?”
“Not in all ways.” Mary shrugged “You give better hugs, even Fliss admits that. She says your hugs make her feel safe and happy and she’s right.” Frank smiled and turned his attention back to the road.
Once Fliss was home, it was then announced to Frank that they weren’t actually going bowling as he’d thought, instead they were having a picnic tea outside, with Roberta. And then Verity and Bill turned up handing him a card which contained a large sum of money. He pretested at their gift but they completely ignored him, simply telling him he was welcome and they spent a wonderful evening outside with a few beers and a huge sticky toffee apple cake which Verity had made.
It was no surprise that a few hours later at just gone eight when everyone had left, that he crashed on the sofa whilst Fliss was tidying the kitchen down and trying to get a still wired Mary to change for bed.
“He’s fallen asleep!” Mary pointed at Frank as they walked into the living room. “Talk about rubbish!”
Fliss pondered for a moment, and then a wicked idea formed in her head “We’ll have to wake him up then.” “How?”
Fliss grinned and explained to Mary who let out a naughty giggle as the two moved around grabbing what they needed to enact their plan.
“Ready?” Fliss whispered, once everything was in place.
Mary gave her a thumbs up and waved one of Fred’s cat toys over Frank’s face, dragging the feather on the edge of a string over his cheeks. Frank merely wrinkled his nose, but other than that made no movement. Fliss looked at Mary who narrowed her eyes, and then moved the cat toy again. This time, Frank raised his hand to bush whatever it was on his cheek away, and smeared the slice of birthday cake that Fliss had placed in his palm all over himself.
Mary and Fliss both burst out laughing, Mary collapsing onto the floor by the side of the sofa arm in hysterical giggles as Frank sat up, utterly in shock at what had just happened. It took him a second to understand, and wiped at his face, looking at the two of them. Fliss had tears pouring down her cheeks as he licked at his fingers before he narrowed his eyes at her.
“You’re dead.” And in a flash he darted off the sofa and the pair of them gave a shriek, running from the room. He caught Mary before she had even made it through the kitchen and he picked her up, her laughter and cries ignored, as he wiped his face all over her before he set her down and headed after Fliss.
She dodged around the side of the table outside Roberta’s, keeping it between them, and every time he moved she did the same in the opposite way. He raised his eyebrow at her, and she laughed even harder, before he sprung up and vaulted over the table, and she turned to run but he caught her, grabbing her round the waist as she laughed again.
“I suspect you think that was clever?” he nuzzled into her neck, wiping the mess off his cheek onto her skin.
“Not clever, but it was pretty funny.” she wiped his beard with her hand. “It was that or we stuck your hand in a bowl of water and watched you pee.”
“You know I’ll remember this…” he told her. “Watch your back.”
“Not sure if I’m worried or turned on.” she looked at him, a glint in her eyes. He smirked and pressed his lips to her softly before they headed back inside.
***** “He wasn’t lying when he said they’d done a number on the place.” Bill observed the thick, black gloss paint thrown all over the living room carpet of the apartment they were looking round, his eyes following it up one of the walls. Frank also spotted that the light fittings on the same wall had been smashed. He took it all in before Bill patted him on the shoulder and gestured to the kitchen area which was off to the side. Bill, like Frank, was more concerned with weighing up the damage as it currently stood, whereas Fliss was clearly much more interested in how the room could look if the damage wasn’t there. They left her to it and headed into the room and Bill once more shook his head and sighed as they saw all of the doors were missing or hanging off the kitchen cabinets and the washing machine door had been pulled off its hinges completely.
Next they moved into the bathroom where Frank looked at the shower which had been wrenched off the wall removing half the tiles with it, and the huge crack in the bathtub. In the bedrooms, thankfully, the worst that seemed to have been done was they’d again poured some kind of paint all over the carpets.
“It’s a mess.” Bill sighed gently. “But, nothing we can’t sort.”
Frank smiled, noticing he’d used the phrase we.
“I got contacts.” Bill continued. “One of the guys at the golf club, his son runs a bathroom and kitchen installation company. He’s always getting old doors and showers and bathtubs from jobs that are perfectly fine, just people want new ones.” he stopped, looking around. “And as for the painting and the tiling and the carpets, we can do that between us. Bet we could get it done in a fortnight.” “Thanks.” Frank looked at him. “You know I don’t just expect you to help, that’s not why I asked you to come.” “I know.” Bill waved him away. “But I’m happy to. Been a while since I did a fixer-upper, plus, it gets me away from V’s nagging.”
Frank chuckled before he grew serious again, needing to do the maths in his head about what this was going to cost. "So, what upfront outlay you reckon I’m looking at?" "Maximum a thousand" Bill nodded. "And that’s tops. But from what you told me, if the deals right, you could make that back on the first couple of months with your discount rent. I can front it for you if you need me to.”
“That’s really kind of you, but I’ve got savings.” Frank smiled, “Of course, it all depends what he’s prepared to go down to.”
“What’s a place like this go for when it’s in good nick?” Bill asked.
“On this park, well, anywhere between eight hundred and a thousand” Frank answered as they wandered into the living area where Fliss was stood talking the landlord, a small, wiry man called John Jameson.
“Well it obviously means an outlay upfront.” Frank heard her saying, and he exchanged a glance with Bill, the pair of them grinning at the fact she was already doing the haggling for him “So…”
“I was renting it out for nine-fifty…”
“Yeah and it’s gonna cost money and time to sort it out.”
Jameson nodded “Which is why I’m prepared to do a deal…”
“Six-hundred a month.” Frank cut in, trying his luck. “I take on responsibility for all the work but I want a long term lease.”
Jameson took a deep breath, “Trust me Mr Adler, the longer lease you sign the better.” the man looked at Frank, then to Fliss, then back again. “I’ll sign for 18 months at six-fifty. Then if you want to stay we can review the price after that. And I’d like to inspect the work when it’s done.”
“No problem.” Frank nodded
“Then you got yourself a deal.” Jameson stuck his hand out and shook Frank’s. “I’ll get the paper work sorted out and we can go from there.”
Fliss shot Frank a grin and he slid his arm round her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her temple. He was absolutely overjoyed. The rent he’d just agreed was only a hundred and fifty more than he was paying Roberta at the moment, for a much bigger home, and it left him more than enough over every month to keep saving and on occasions spoiling his girls.
They all headed back outside, once more shaking hands as Bill made arrangements to come back and measure up, and then they bid Jameson goodbye and strode back down the path towards Frank’s apartment.
"You’re gonna need a bit more furniture." Fliss turned to him as they walked "But if you use what you have initially, we can add it as we go.” “We?” Frank looked at her and she flushed again at his teasing.
“Yeah, well, I just meant that like we can go to Ikea and like have huge arguments when we try to assemble the flat pack."
Bill rolled his eyes "Flat pack assembly is piss easy. We can do it over a few beers."
“As long as we doesn’t include mum.” Fliss said and Bill groaned.
“Not after last time.” He shook his head. “What happened last time?” Frank asked.
Fliss snorted a laugh and Bill held up his right hand, showing Frank a circular scar on the back of it, just above his wrist.
“Decided she’d screw me instead of a door hinge.” Bill raised an eyebrow “And yes, there’s a joke in there somewhere.” Frank laughed as Fliss rolled her eyes. “Now, you kids want a lift down to Ferg’s?”
Frank looked at Fliss who nodded. The pair of them were already changed and ready to go, Frank sporting a bright blue Hawaiian shirt with palm trees all over it for the occasion.
“That okay?” Frank asked.
“Course.” Bill said
“Ok, I’ll just nip into Roberta’s and check Mary’s okay then I’ll meet you at the car.”
***** Frank let go of Fliss' hand to hold the door open and she walked in to Ferg’s, the pair making their way to the bar. Fliss ordered them both a beer and she turned to talk to Frank when he felt a slap on his shoulder. Turning round, he gave a little start as he saw his friends all grinning at him.
"Surprise!" Greg smiled as Frank frowned for a moment. They had all told him they were busy. It didn’t take him long to realise what had been going on. He turned to Fliss who grinned at him.
"Happy Birthday!" She laughed as he bent down to give her a quick kiss.
He dropped an arm round her shoulder as the group began to chat animatedly, eagerly catching up as they hadn't been together since their Christmas night out. Shots were shared, beers were drunk and before long a pool tournament had struck up, Bonnie and Fliss teaming up together, whilst Frank took Greg as his team mate. As the rounds went by, the duos dropped out one by one until they reached the last four. And it was a tense final, losers down to buy a round for the entire group.
Fliss sank her last striped ball and looked up at Frank with a wink. "Top right."
She missed.
"Bollocks!" She yelled, hanging her head as Frank and Greg shared a high-five. Frank moved round to take his shot, Fliss tying everything she could to distract him, even running her hand up the inside of his thigh which made him jerk forward with a grunt.
The rest of the group laughed as he stood up with a sigh and gave her a stern look "Stop it."
She backed away, smirking a little and he took the shot, winning the game. With a groan Fliss turned to Bonnie who shook her head.
"We let you win because it's your birthday." Bonnie looked at him and Fliss nodded in agreement.
"Was my birthday on Wednesday.” He rolled his eyes. “And like fuck you let me win. She's the most competitive person I've ever met!" He pointed at Fliss.
Fliss shrugged, the rest of them laughing as the girls headed off to the bar. Bonnie handed Fliss her share of the money before she excused herself to go to the bathroom leaving Fliss to order the drinks.
As the bartender turned to get her order she felt someone slide into the space next to her as the other guy working behind the bar made his way over
"Have you been served or..." the man next to her asked and Fliss looked at him, smiling.
"Yeah thanks, go ahead."
He placed his order and then turned back to Fliss. “You here alone or..."
"Sorry, no I'm with someone." She smiled, nodding over to the group who were now making their way over to a spare table.
"Too bad." The guy winked, smiling at her as he blatantly looked her up and down.
And that was it. Such a simple, innocent, flirty action from the man, yet it threw Fliss right back, and she felt the panic beginning to rise in her chest. If he saw this guy talking to her, and her talking back...
Frank, who had been silently observing the douchebag with Fliss, spotted the look of panic as it spread across her face instantly. Excusing himself, he strode straight over to where she was stood. He placed himself in between the bloke and Fliss with a stern "get lost" tossed casually over his shoulder. The guy apologised and hastily made his retreat as Frank looked at his girl, his hands cupping her face gently.
"Lissy...hey.”
It took her a moment but her eyes focused again and she looked at him, her hands reaching up to clamp round his wrist. "Frankie...I..."
"Did he do something?"
"No...I...I just...I wasn't doing anything, please, don't be mad."
"Woah, woah." he said softly, his hands still cupping her face. "I'm not mad. Why would I be mad?"
But even as he said it he had a sudden recollection of the mornings after their first night together and her comment about why she’d gotten the scars he’d seen on her ass.
"Baby, look at me.” He instructed, softly "I would never be cross with you over something like that, and even if I was I wouldn't..."
He trailed off, shaking his head, unable to even voice the words and watched as her breathing evened out and then her eyes filled with tears.
"Frank I'm sorry, I didn't mean that you would, I know you wouldn't do that, I just…"
"Liss, stop apologising." he gently pulled her into a hug. Her hands wrapped around his back, fists grabbing at his shirt and he pressed a kiss to her head allowing her to pull back as she wiped her eyes.
"Is anyone watching?” She asked softly after a moment. Frank looked around and then turned back, shaking his head.
"No." He assured her as two buckets of beer were slid toward them.
"God I'm such an idiot."
"Stop." He looked at her again "You're not an idiot. Well, not all the time." She hit him on the chest softly and he chuckled before he sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear "Baby, please, don't ever be afraid to tell me what's happening or if you're scared or worried okay?"
"I'm not." She shook her head softly “I'm not scared of you, you know that right?"
"I know." He smiled before he dropped a kiss to her lips and picked up one of the buckets.
She grabbed the other and then he saw the cheeky smile cross her face again and he was glad to see Lissy had returned and Felicity was gone.
"You're still gonna do me on the couch when we get back, right?" She asked not looking at him.
"Oh yeah." he grinned.
**** Chapter 14
#riding high#frank adler#frank adler x ofc#frank adler x original female character#gifted#gifted fan fic
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characters: black jackals, reader, and schweiden adlers (quick appearance).
warnings: lots of cursing.
word count: 9.3k
a/n: I was supposed to upload this one a few days ago, but I got lazy and I was always feeling sleepy so I didn’t have time to fix it. Hehehe, please enjoy this one! :D I’m lowkey bullying Atsumu in this chapter, but don’t worry, I still love him! XD
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msby navigation || main navigation
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When Shugo was appointed as team captain, he didn’t really give it much thought and accepted the title with pride along with the responsibilities that come with it. He had the experience of being a captain when he was still a student, so it’s nothing new. The only difference is that he’s leading a team full of grown men instead of hormonal teenagers.
With a team like the MSBY Black Jackals, one of the top teams in the V.League Division 1, you’d expect players who are more on the professional side of the spectrum, the kind that always means business, practice first relax later, that kind of thing.
However, he was proven wrong when the younger ones of the team, namely, Bokuto Kotaro, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu, and Hinata Shoyo are involved, the atmosphere is far from serious. Of course, when it’s time for practice they’re more focused, giving 110% into their training.
Even so, once that whistle is blown, signaling a break from practice, all hell breaks loose. If it is not Bokuto and Hinata bouncing around and screaming, it would be Atsumu and Sakusa bickering, well mainly Sakusa roasting Atsumu and the blond Miya trying to come up with the best come back he could think of.
From what Shugo could remember, Atsumu had none so far, so it was safe to say the setter’s verbal game is weak.
It’s not just them either, the older ones, namely, Oliver Barnes, Adriah Thomas, and Inunaki Shion would sometimes join the other four when they’re feeling playful that day, which just give Shugo more problems to deal with, and when all seven of them joined forces it just increase Shugo’s chances of growing gray hair at age 29.
They have a manager of course and he is there to help keep everyone in check, making sure they behave and all. But, with the team becoming even more well known, emails for brand deals, interviews and magazine photoshoots were sent almost every single day that it needs immediate attention and the only one for that job is their manager himself, Mizuno Takato.
Leaving Shugo to mostly deal with the team on his own.
So when Coach Foster and Takato told him they’ll be having another manager to take care of the team’s internal affairs, he was so happy he almost cried.
“Everyone I would like you all to meet, (L/n) (Y/n) and she will be your manager starting today so take good care of her”
You bowed your head as everyone shouted a “Welcome to the team!” with Takato holding up your very own MSBY jersey jacket. As everyone went around to introduce themselves to you one by one.
“Hey, hey, hey! (Y/n) I can’t believe you’re back!” Bokuto bounded over to you, picking you up, then spinning you around laughing as Hinata excitedly babbles beside him.
“Welcome back (Y/n)!”
You giggled, happy to finally see the friends you left all those years ago “I’m home!"
Bokuto gently places you on the ground, planting your feet to the wooden floor as you steady yourself. While the others who were curious about the exchange and the sunshine duo's familiarity with you walks over.
“You know her Kotaro, Shoyo?” Oliver inquired as Bokuto nodded his head, taking hold of your shoulders and pulling you in front of him, facing your new teammates.
“She was our manager back in high school, while Hinata met her during our training camps”
That was months ago and every day you have proven yourself to be a very reliable manager and Shugo could not be any happier.
“Congratulations everyone! That was a very good game” you said, giving them their towels and drinks as they sat down on the bench. Resting their tired muscles and regaining the lost energy from a very tiring 3 set match.
The Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets were not an easy opponent, especially with players such as Kiryu Wakatsu, who was once a part of the top three aces in Japan and Goshiki Tsutomu who was Ushijima’s junior back in high school. Nevertheless, they still manage and won the game a good way to start their Monday.
“Goshiki’s straight is still as cool as ever” Hinata stated gulping down his water as Adriah and Shugo let out a sigh, remembering how they had problems blocking his spikes because of how close they mostly were to the line.
“He’s a very tricky opponent”
“Here you go, Sakusa-san” you pass Sakusa his own towel, the one you had specifically separated from the others as the spiker nodded at you in thanks, dabbing it on his face whilst listening to his teammate’s give their own commentary of the game and their insights of the opposing team’s players.
“Shugo, someone wants to have an interview” Takato called as the captain stood up from his seat about to walk to where they were waiting before he stops in his tracks and looks back.
“How about let’s have Bokuto, Atsumu, Sakusa, and Hinata do the interview this time?” he suggested, as Sakusa’s lips turned into a frown while the other three vigorously nodded their head “They're the stars of today’s game I’m sure the interviewer would love to hear from them”
Sakusa tried to make a last-minute getaway, but Atsumu took hold of the towel wrap around his neck and started dragging him, following after their captain.
“C'mon Omi-Omi, it'll be fun" Atsumu just grinned, watching Sakusa's face morph into a scowl as he tugs on the towel “Just live a little”
“I am living”
You quickly pack the empty water bottles and the dirty towels into the bag that Takato was holding while the rest slowly made their way back into the locker room “I’ll leave them to you (Y/n)”
You nodded, jogging after your teammates and immediately spotting them just outside the court, they've already started because you could hear the questions the reporter were asking them as you move to stand beside Shugo. The interview was going well, they were giving honest answers and honest opinions about the game, however, as it goes on, the reporter seems to have taken a liking towards Sakusa because he seems to be the only person the reporter was pointing the microphone at.
While the three idiots who were being ignored decided it was a good idea to do gymnastics at the back. You and Shugo watch in horror as Bokuto does a double backflip, landing perfectly on his feet, both hands raise high, Hinata mimicking his actions and Atsumu following after with a front split all the while not breaking eye contact from the journalist who had notice them. Sakusa who has had enough just plastered on the biggest I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck face while giving one-word answers.
Shugo who can’t do anything about it just banged his head on the wall. He wished he could have an early retirement but God he’s still young.
“What happened?” Inunaki asks watching from the door as you scolded the four from their stupid stunt. Only Bokuto and Hinata were the ones who look guilty and were muttering apologies under their breath while Atsumu was pouting saying things like.
"I did nothing wrong" or "She was being rude"
Meanwhile, Sakusa doesn't even understand why you're getting angry with him as well, he answered that woman's question like what he was told to do, he just chose the fastest route and the lady seems happy.
“You’ll see later”
They didn't even have to wait long because, after an hour, the video was already circulating the internet, earning hundreds of views by the minute with people commenting like crazy.
“The good thing is, we just earned ourselves more fans” Adriah laugh, Takato’s phone in his hand, the device letting out a ding every minute as the team’s official Twitter and Instagram account were flooding with notifications of new followers or tagged posts.
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Meeting their fans were always one of the things they love to do, the prospect of connecting with people who had supported them throughout the years that they played just keeps them even more motivated to train harder and play better.
“Okay everyone, be gentle with the kids alright? Bokuto, Hinata I’m looking at you” The captain shot the two mentioned players a look to emphasize his point however the mentor-disciple duo wasn't even listening and instead was jumping in excitement, waving at the kids waiting at the other side of the field.
You chuckled, they're just the same as they were in high school and here you thought they've matured a little bit now that they're in their 20s.
Right now, the team was in Kawasaki for a mini fan event held in one of the city's local elementary schools. The team came to an agreement last night, after watching the hilarious black jackals’ post-game interview, that it would not be just fun and games. They should also discuss some bits and pieces of the position they play to give the children some insights and give an early understanding in case they plan to pursue a volleyball career in the future.
However, with kids being kids, didn't seem to care nor interested in the slightest because once it started, they quickly run to their favorite member and started climbing them like trees. The tall ones, especially Adriah and Oliver have at least two kids hanging on each arm, with one of their back, and another on their leg.
"It's good work-out" Takato noted, telling the other kids to do the same to the rest of the members before snapping a few photos to update the fans of the team's schedule for the day.
You guffawed watching as they tackle Atsumu to the ground, the blond screaming for help while clawing at thin air for something to grab.
"Don't worry Atsumu-san, I'll help you!" Hinata tried so hard to pull Atsumu up, but another kid jump on his back resulting in him losing his footing and falling beside the setter.
Bokuto wanted to offer his assistance, but a little girl accidentally tripped him, landing on the two.
"Bokkun, yer heavy!"
"Sorry!"
It turned into a messy dog pile and Sakusa, who was beside the chaos, move his own horde of children to another area before showing his wrist trick. A chorus of oohs and aahs was heard, as the kids watch with wide eyes as it easily bends forward before a boy decided to do the same, but backward, and you have never been so bothered by something before.
You close both eyes, involuntarily shuddering 'Goodness, what are they feeding these children?' you crack an eye open to take a quick peek to check if they stopped but no, another kid also wanted to show his own freak talent and now there's three of them.
You turn around, you're just going to let them do their thing, they seem to be enjoying it anyway.
Feeling a tug on your skirt, you look down to see a little girl looking at you with sparkling eyes.
“Onee-san, you’re so pretty” she said in awe, as you leaned down to be at eye level with the girl.
“Oh? But you’re prettier”
She shook her head, and place her small hands on your cheek “But onee-san is like a princess”
You clutch a hand to your chest at how precious this little girl was, Takato was definitely having a field day because he has not stopped taking pictures. The girl took your hand and led you towards the garden, sitting you down under the tree as she picks up a flower crown and placing it on your head.
“There! It fits you perfectly!” she beamed as you try your best not to just wrap her up in your arms and hug her all day, she was just so cute. Her smile is so bright that somehow she reminded you of Hinata, a ball of sunshine with smiles that could light up the whole room.
“Do you have another one?” she nodded her head and showed you another that was half-finish. You remove a few pieces of flowers, switching it with ones of a different color then adjusting its size before tying both ends.
“Now, there are two princesses” you put the crown on her head as she giggled.
You continued making more flower accessories with her, flower bracelets, flower necklaces, and the likes then putting them on each other. She was a bright and bubbly girl, she would share you some stories of her and her older siblings, her parents and her friends in the elementary school.
You wanted to hear more, she was a good storyteller.
Time flies by so fast when you are having fun is what they would always say and you agreed with that saying because before you even knew it, it was time to go home. Everyone is standing by the gate, saying their goodbyes and telling promises to visit again.
“Bye-bye, pretty onee-chan!” she waves at you, standing beside her teacher, proudly wearing her flower accessories.
Later that evening, everyone was lounging around in the living room, tired from playing with the kids all day. The others were watching the news, however, no one was even listening to the television, because their attention was in the game Oliver and Shugo were having.
Inunaki leaned down to whisper something to Oliver, who's face light up, as he moves his queen to eat Shugo's rook.
"Hey, no coaching!"
Inunaki just shrugs his shoulders in response as he discusses their next strategy.
"I'll help you Meian-san" Hinata took a seat beside his captain, observing the board with such concentration. Brown eyes carefully scanning the positions each piece were place before whispering in Shugo’s ear. Following his suggestion with no doubt whatsoever, Shugo moves his queen forward only for it to get eaten by Oliver's pawn.
“Bwahaha!” Atsumu was bent over, clutching his stomach as he wipes the tears forming at the corner of his eyes while Bokuto tries to console his dejected kouhai in between laughter.
Inunaki and Oliver snickered sharing a high five.
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“Adriah, I need you to tighten that block a little more!”
“That’s good, keep it up Kiyoomi!”
“Okay, follow up, follow up!”
You stood at the sidelines, your eyes following their move as they were currently having a match against each other, Coach Foster and Takato were beside you observing the men on the court while occasionally giving out directives.
A camcorder was prep on your left side to record the practices, the videos will be used as a study material to properly assess the things that needs to be corrected in order to improve their gameplay. While you note down the commentary Coach Foster was saying to add later.
It went on for an hour, their stamina never fails to amaze you as they continuously, jump, dive, and run just to keep the ball in the air. After checking his wristwatch Coach Foster decided that it was time to end the training for the day. So he blew his whistle and the game immediately came to a halt, the ball bouncing on the wooden floor and they drag their tired bodies to gather in front of him, wiping their sweat with their shirt as they waited for his announcements.
“Okay boys good job today, keep in mind what I said and practice more on what you need to improve”
They slowly bob their head up and down, too tired to give out a verbal reply. Coach Foster doesn’t seem to mind because he knows they’re taking his advice seriously.
“This will be the last practice for this week so enjoy your weekend off and rest properly”
After that, they immediately spread out and started cleaning up the gym as fast as their tired bodies can so that they could finally rest and eat some good food.
"Shugo I need the report for last week, can you give it to me by tomorrow?"
"Yes coach, I'm almost done"
Lies, he hasn't even started yet and he was nervous that he won’t be able to finish it on time and if he ever submit the report late, Coach Foster was going to whoop his ass. So many things have happened this week that he never finds the time to start it yet, not even a single paragraph.
No, not even a single sentence.
Seeing your captain's inner turmoil, you walk up to him and whispered "Don't worry, I'll help you"
Shugo shot you a grateful smile, ruffling your hair "You're a savior kid"
That was how you found yourself sitting in the kitchen counter, laptop in front of you, staring at your current work. It would have been easy if the report was in Japanese but Coach Foster prefers it in English.
Shugo was sitting across you, hands fast and typing away, Takato was seated beside you rewriting your notes while the others, who still weren’t feeling sleepy at 11 pm were in the living room watching a movie.
"How do you spell Schweiden again?"
"S-c-h-w...uhh" Shugo's mind seems to have failed him mid-spell as he closes his eyes to try and remember.
"S-c-h-w-e-i-d-e-n" Sakusa finished for him as he walks into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. The movie must have already ended because the others were already piling into the kitchen, cans, and bottles of drinks in hand and food wrappers place in bowls.
"How's the report going?" Inunaki peered behind Shugo's shoulder.
"It's going great" It’s not, it’s actually not, Shugo is definitely close to pulling his hair out. He glared at his laptop as he continues on smashing the keyboard keys, opting to finish the report as soon as possible.
Meanwhile, you felt like your brain was short-circuiting, English is definitely a hard language, it's complex, it's tricky and certainly a pain. One word can mean two things depending on the pronunciation and its sentence usage and can have a whole different meaning when spelled and one letter is missing, like for example 'public', take one letter out and what do we get?
Pubic.
Anyway, that's not the point, the point is English is hard, and you were close to losing your mind.
You took a sip of your drink, which was coffee mix with a monster energy drink, it was definitely death in a cup but you couldn't care less. You need to stay awake and your deadly concoction was doing a great job keeping your eyes open.
"You know” you started resting your chin on your palm, taking a break from your suffering “I find it amazing how the names of professional volleyball teams are so long like-”
You scroll through the list you have saved in your laptop's notepad “-three to five words at most yet they are referred to by a single name"
"What do you mean?" Takato shifts his eyes from his notebook to you tracing the rim of your cup as your eyes focus themselves on the ceiling.
"I mean there's the Eastern Japan Paper Mills Raijin and everyone calls them Raijin, the Azuma Pharmacy Green Rockets is called Green Rockets while Schweiden Adlers is referred to as Adlers"
"Yes, go on"
"MSBY Black Jackals is sometimes called MSBY or Black Jackals but even those names are a mouthful"
By now, everyone's attention was on you, curiosity flooding their mind as they wait for you to finish.
"So the team is mostly referred to as BJ" you look up and with the most serious face ever, you said "But has anyone even realize that BJ also stands for blowjob?"
Hinata, who was drinking a glass of milk choke on his drink while Atsumu slowly turns to look at Bokuto mouthing a "What the fuck?"
Oliver let out a nervous chuckle "You should take a break (Y/n)" he tries to set your laptop aside so you could rest your exhausted brain, but you shook your head and started working again, finally having the idea outlined in your head. That short break was very effective because your hands were seamlessly gliding over the keyboard keys, as input more words in to your work.
"Also, what does MSBY even mean? Most Significant Byte? I don’t get it"
They don’t get it either, as to where this is all coming from. They swore you have it stored in your mind for so long and just waited for the right moment to tell it.
It was amazing too because while you were going on and on about anything that you could think of, you were also typing on your laptop. Hinata took a peek to see if you were actually doing your job instead of just key smashing, but he was surprised when he saw you busting out an actual paragraph in English while spewing out nonsense in Japanese.
Multi-tasking sure is an impressive skill. He should learn it sometime.
You ran a hand through your hair, you were starting to have trouble again. You were in the zone for about 30 minutes but after that, the effect of your drink started to wear off and you were on a dead end.
The others had decided you hang out in the house's big kitchen doing their own thing, your eyes darted from every corner of the room, trying to find some sort of a cure to help your mental block.
Adriah was seated next to you scrolling through his phone as he nibbled on a pocky stick, you tap him on the shoulder as he looks up at you questioningly "Adriah-san, could you slap me in the face?"
Taken aback by your request he sputtered, almost dropping his phone "W-what?"
"I need something to keep me awake and this is not working anymore" you gestured to your now empty cup "I'm guessing the pain might keep me awake until I'm done with this"
Now, if you actually wanted to feel pain you could have asked at least one of the team's spikers, but you were not dumb enough to actually do that.
Adriah search your eyes for any signs that you were joking, but he found none "Are you sure (Y/n)?"
You assured him that it would be fine, so he raises his hand up as you prepare yourself for the impact.
Sleep must have been overtaking everyone's mind because it took them a few seconds to realize what was happening. Adriah's hand already collided with your face, he had underestimated the force he put in that slap but then soon find out he put too much when a smack resonated inside the kitchen as your body fell from the stool and landing on the cold tiles.
The whole room erupted into a panic as your body lays unmoving on the floor.
“Oh meu Deus!”
"Shit, shit, shit. Adriah what did you do?!" Inunaki kneeled down beside you, the cheek where Adriah hit was glowing red with a visible hand mark starting to form.
"I don't know, I just did what she ask me!" Adriah replied, equally as panicked.
Takato was now checking your pulse, to see if it was still beating. It was a bit exaggerated, a slap wouldn't kill you but with how strong Adriah did it. Takato wouldn't even be surprised if you snapped a vein in your neck.
Bokuto being the drama queen that he is, was shouting words like “(Y/n), don’t die you’re still young!” followed by a “Akaashi will be so sad if you go!”
And Atsumu, instead of being a good senpai that he claims he is, didn’t even think to help you. Instead, the first thing he did was to grab his phone and went live on Instagram to broadcast the madness happening in your shared kitchen.
"Goddammit Adriah!"
"Why are you blaming me?!"
Fortunately, you just passed out; picking you up, Takato carried you back into your room, and tucks you in. Gently closing your door, he goes back into the kitchen to calm them down before the neighbor calls the police on them.
He let out a heavy exhale, rubbing his temples “They’re hopeless”
What would he do without you?
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When you woke up the next day, you could still feel a stinging sensation on your cheek, your head hurt as well, you wondered what happened to you after you blacked out. You sat up in your bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and checking the clock on your night stand to see that it was already 8 am.
So you get out of bed, and walk downstairs into the kitchen to see everyone already there preparing breakfast. It seems like it wasn't just you who woke up late, because after Adriah slapped you to sleep, Shugo roped all of them into helping him with his report, and since none of them were familiar with the job. It took them until 2 am before they were finished and immediately e-mailed the document to Coach Foster.
"Good morning, how's your cheek?" Oliver eyed the slowly fading red mark on your cheek, standing besides Inunaki, holding a plate as the libero carefully places the pancakes in a neat stack, then flipping the other one that was still in the pan.
"It still hurts a little" you took a seat between Hinata and Sakusa, already eating their breakfast.
Adriah passed you a plate with five pancakes stacked on top of each other, a slice of banana on the side, followed by a cup of your favorite coffee. Your eyes were literally sparkling, the food looks so delicious and it smell so so good you almost drooled “I'm sorry about last night"
He gave you a gentle smile, eyes soft, whoever was going to be this man’s future lover sure is very lucky.
"There is nothing to be sorry about Adriah-san, I was the one who asked for it" He was such a sweetheart, it wasn’t even his fault yet he took the time to prepare your food himself, now you just felt guilty by asking him to hit you.
You took the bottle of maple syrup Sakusa handed to you as you drizzled some of it on top of your pancakes "Also, please remind me to never do that again"
Everyone collectively agreed, after last night's scare, there was no way they were going to agree to any odd request you have, no matter how serious you were.
Breakfast was quick, mainly because everyone had a photoshoot to attend at 10. It was a magazine photoshoot for a swimwear by a very well known brand, however it was also the photoshoot they were looking forward to. Because not only was the brand a favorite of theirs, they’ll be partnered with famous models as well, so it was a win-win on their part.
After everyone was finished, the dishes were immediately cleaned, the table wiped off of any food crumbs while the trash was taken out. The guys went back to their room to get ready, and once everyone was ready to go, they piled into the bus as it drove off to the beach which was the venue for the photoshoot.
"It's sure is refreshing to be walking by the sea" Inunaki gazed towards the blue water splashing along the shore, following after their two managers towards the area where tents, chairs and cameras were already set-up.
"It looks so beautiful too" Oliver said, kicking the white sand under his flip flops as the staff led them to the chairs lined out. The make-up artist immediately worked on their look that was going to be aligned with the photoshoot's theme.
"Ahh~ it's so hot" you hold the mini fan closer to Bokuto's face while Sakusa takes the one you were holding out for him, beads of sweat running down your face as Takato took care of the others. Of all the times they have to choose, it has to be in the middle of the day, when the sun is up and proudly shining.
The models were in another tent, dressed in their robes while they waited for the stylist to finish the last touches on the boys’ hair, once done, they changed into their designated swimwear, while the girls removed the robes they were wearing.
It took them about two hours before they were finished, the director wanted to get as many shots as he could so he had plenty to choose from. The break in between takes were crazy because the make-up artist and stylist had to jump from one person to another just to do some retouches, the girls especially, were very fussy and wanted their make-up redone every thirty minutes.
“This is the last time I’m working with models” Sakusa grumbles, as you hand him a packet of wet wipes as he takes a piece and rubs the lipstick stain off his cheek when the model he partnered with gave him a kiss earlier.
You could only offer him a sympathetic smile, even though this was not his first endorsement, he still wasn’t used to interacting with strangers. Not so keen to them casually touching him and invading his personal space.
“Oh Kiyoomi~” Sakusa let out a groan before turning to look at the woman jogging towards him, already changed into a yellow sundress and a sunhat on top of her head. “Here”
She placed a folded paper on his palm “Call me” then blew him a kiss before she walked away. Sakusa opened the paper to see her name, number and even address written on it. He stared at the paper for a good second, before he met your eyes.
He just looks so done with everything.
“Isn’t this our lucky day?” Shugo whistled, pieces of papers on his hand while slinging an arm around Bokuto’s shoulder and sharing a grin with the pepper haired male. With Atsumu trailing behind them, saving the ones he received in his phone. Oliver threw his away because he’s happily married, while Adriah, Inunaki and Hinata gave theirs to either Bokuto or Shugo.
“The models” Sakusa started, looking at them as he crumples the paper on his hand “They’re married, all of them”
Oh
Shugo dropped the papers in shock, jaws slack while Bokuto immediately deleted his copy, not wanting to get involved in a scandal just in case, and Atsumu was still having second thoughts, staring at his phone, his thumb hovering over the delete button.
Should he or should he not?
Sakusa just rolls his eyes before stalking off into the tent.
They quickly change back into their own clothes, leaving the venue with bags of the swimwear they just modeled. The brand’s logo is big and bright in the middle as your group walks to where the bus was parked.
“Ah, Captain Jackal” Shugo turned his head to see Schweiden’s captain walking over to him, wearing their team uniform, his hand raised in a wave.
“Bird” He leaned to the side noting the group of children crowding behind the area where he just left “Were you doing a meet and greet?”
“Yes, surprisingly the kids love Ushijima and Kageyama” Fukuro pointed to the two mentioned players with kids crowding at their feet, some hanging on their back while the others tugs on their arm “By the way, is (Y/n) here?”
Shugo pressed his lips into a thin line, turning his body to face Fukuro properly. “I know what you’re trying to do”
“No, you don’t”
“We’re not giving you our manager, get your own”
“But you already have two!”
“I don’t care!”
They glared at each other, a month after you became a part of the team, Fukuro tried to recruit you into joining the Adlers. He even sent Ushijima, Hoshiumi and Kageyama to talk to you hoping that the idea of having familiar faces in the team would change your mind but alas, you were more comfortable with MSBY so you declined every attempt.
However, Fukuro found your one weakness and he’s using it to his advantage whenever he can.
He caught sight of your figure standing near the bus, he shot Shugo a smirk before cupping his hands around his mouth “Oi (Y/n), Adloo’s here!”
They heard you gasp, letting out an excited squeal.
“Adloo!”
You shove your things into Atsumu’s hands and sprint towards the mascot who was already holding out his arms for you. Shugo felt his eye twitch at the smug look on Fukuro’s face as they watched you rock the mascot back and forth with glee. He marched to where you were burying your face on Adloo’s soft fabric and plucking you from its side, then walking towards the bus, but not before shooting Fukuro the dirty finger.
«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────────���─»
It was finally the weekend and it was the start of their long awaited day off, Takato had left early to go home to his pregnant wife while Oliver also went home to his family. Leaving the single ones to enjoy the weekend to themselves. It was already 8 am and you were currently sitting on the laundry room’s floor, separating the whites from the colored ones.
The dirty laundry had been left lying there for almost a week because of how busy everyone was, everyday there was always something new to do, new places to go, and new schedules to follow. Now that it was Saturday, you took it as the chance to finally do it.
Picking up a piece of shirt, you saw a big spider laying underneath it. You jump up, letting out an inhumanly shriek as it circles around in its place.
“(Y/n) are you okay?! What happened?!” you pointed to the spider now crawling the walls of the washing machine, while running to hide behind them in the hopes they’ll get rid of it.
“What the fu-”
“Miya, kill that thing” Sakusa pushed Atsumu forward as the blond stumbled into the room, brown eyes zeroed in on the insect in fear that it might jump on him the second he turned away.
“Are ya crazy?! That thing’s huge!”
He jammed himself in between Shugo and Adriah, pushing the two forward to be the new sacrificial lamb, the bug now sitting on the top of the washing machine stared back at them, unmoving. Black orbs following their movement, calculating, as if choosing his victim.
Which of these idiots should it jump on first?
“That’s it, this place is infected, we’re leaving”
“Hold on a sec, we ain’t leaving this place just because of one spider” Atsumu tried to reason with the man, but no luck however because Sakusa just thought of another way to get rid of the spider.
“Fine, lets burn it down then”
Sakusa turns to retrieve a fire starter and gasoline from the supply closet, actually serious. Atsumu quickly grabbed the back of his shirt, stopping him from actually setting the house on fire. If there was one thing that everyone learned from being with Sakusa for so long, when he says he is going to do something, he is going to do it.
No bullshitting.
So if he says he’s going to throw Atsumu out of the second floor balcony, best believe he’d be doing it an hour after his declaration.
“Even worse! This house costs millions Omi, our combined earnings won’t even cover for the damage!”
“Actually, it can”
“(Y/n), yer not helping”
“Okay, that’s enough” Shugo went in between the two “Let’s catch the spider first before it gets away”
“Uh… Meian-san” Hinata lifted a shaky hand pointing to where the arachnid was supposed to be, but the space is empty. Panic ensues and everyone searches high and low for the bug, lifting up furniture and other decorations looking behind paintings and opening kitchen drawers.
“Everyone it’s here!” Adriah called from the living room, he tiptoed towards the spider, jar in hand, ready to catch it in case it disappears again. You held in a breath when he was only a few centimeters away, slowly he lifted the jar and covered the spider. Sliding a paper underneath it, then took it outside to dispose of it.
Inunaki let out a sigh of relief before walking back into the kitchen to finish inspecting the fridge for any more ingredients to cook. The gang had decided to have Shabu-Shabu for lunch later and he was checking if there were enough ingredients left to serve 8 people. While you went back to the laundry room to load the clothes into the washing machine.
“We need to buy more” Inunaki closes the fridge door, as he checks the cupboards for the sauces and other spices. “Meats and vegetables especially”
He took a piece of paper and wrote down what needs to be bought, double-checking the list if he forgot anything.
“We’ll go!” Atsumu pulled Hinata and Bokuto towards him then pointing a finger at Sakusa who was spraying the kitchen counter with some lysol then wiping it with a rug “Omi-Omi too”
“What? No”
He declined, but the blond just ignored his protest before looking at the older members. “We’ll be fine”
“Are you sure?” Adriah leaned on the counter as he looked at the troublesome four, they have done grocery shopping so many times before and it always turned out okay, the only difference is that before there was at least one of the older members accompanying them, while this time, they were choosing to go by themselves.
“No need to worry Adriah-san” Hinata tried to reassure the man, and although Adriah did relax a little he still hadn’t agreed to it yet. You walk in the kitchen, the first batch of laundry already in the washing machine, tumbling around as the detergent removes the dirt and bad smell.
“I don’t see a problem” Shugo pipes up “They’re adults now, I’m sure they wouldn’t fail something as simple as grocery shopping”
Inunaki was still a bit hesitant, his eyes darting to each face of the younger members of the team, though mainly focusing themselves on Atsumu and Bokuto, because he knows those two share a brain cell but don’t know how to use it. However, Shugo is right, so he gave you the list and the money before following the five of you into the garage.
“So who’s driving?” Shugo held up the keys, twirling them on his fingers while they put on their face mask and cap to avoid getting recognized in public.
“I will”
He stared at Atsumu, eyes blinking before turning to you, jiggling the keys. “(Y/n)?”
You shook your head. “I’m still learning Meian-san”
“Ya gotta trust me captain!”
“I find that hard to do Atsumu”
Shugo retorted, but still dropped the keys to Atsumu’s hand as the blond opened the car and turned it on.
“Don’t damage her!”
“We won’t!”
The three of them watched, as the car went out into the driveway and zoomed through the streets. Leaving a trail of dust behind as the vehicle went out of sight in just seconds.
“I think, I made a mistake”
«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»
You stumbled out of the car, your heart beating fast and knees wobbly, clutching the side of the door as the trauma of a near death experience still haunts your mind.
"I think I'm going to throw up" Hinata pressed his palm on his mouth, face pale, his other hand wrapped around his stomach as he tried to contain the puke threatening to come out.
“I thought you said you could drive?” Sakusa shot Atsumu a glare, adjusting his mask. When the setter offered to drive, you thought he was actually good at it, you did not expect for him to almost crash the car at the gasoline station or nearly run an old woman over.
“That was dangerous Tsum-Tsum” Bokuto massaged his forehead, he hit the back of the driver’s seat rather hard when Atsumu slammed his foot on the break, just a few feet away from killing an old lady. Fortunately, there were no traffic enforcers nor police officers nearby and the woman didn’t even realize she was close to meeting her creator today. She happily crossed that street, as if she owned the place.
“Hey! I’m just not use to this car okay?” the setter reasoned patting the car’s hood, rubbing his palm over the sleek black top “It’s different from the one I drive back home”
“If you can drive it doesn’t matter what car, you’ll still be able to drive it properly” Sakusa crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow “Did you even pass your driving test?”
“Of course I did, I got 90%,” Atsumu answered proudly, placing his hands on his hips with his head held high and his lips upturned into a smile.
“Was the instructor a girl?”
“Yes”
There was silence, everyone staring at him doubtfully, eyes narrowed and judging.
“Stop looking at me like that!”
“But guys…” Hinata called as he waved them over, pointing at a long scratch mark on the passenger’s door. It was big, about an arm’s length. “Captain is going to kill us”
You walk around the vehicle to check the other side, to see another one on the side of the car’s hood. You clutch your head in frustration, face drained of any color, it would’ve been okay if it was just one, but there’s actually two of them. “Meian-san just bought this four months ago”
“We have to pass by a repair shop before we go home” Bokuto scratched the back of his head. “Tsum-Tsum is paying for the paint job of course”
“Alright, alright. Sheesh. Let’s go buy the groceries first” Atsumu quickly huddled everyone together and started pushing you all into the market’s entrance.
The farmers’ market is always the best place to buy ingredients, it’s cheap compared to the ones sold in malls where prices are doubled, sometimes even tripled, and it’s just ridiculously expensive. You can bargain with the vendors as well, in case some of the items were a bit too pricey. Luckily, the market isn’t too crowded, there weren’t many people buying yet which was unexpected since this place is usually packed during the weekend.
However, there was also one thing that you didn’t expect. Apparently, with how many times you frequent this place during your shopping trips, either one of the boys had made friends with some of the vendors.
“Hinata look, it’s you!” Bokuto held a tangerine next to Hinata’s head lifting his hat a little and grinning at how the fruit’s color was almost the same shade as his disciple’s hair.
You pick up another tangerine, examining it for any damages before looking through the rest of the ones displayed. While the others look through the rest of the fruits they offer, bananas, avocados, apples and some grapes. Anything they found very appealing was picked up and placed inside the bag.
“How much for all of these?” you look at the girl, pointing at the bag that’s almost filled with fruits, but she seems to be looking at something else. You turn around, following where her eyes were focused to see the troublesome four eating some of the fruits.
“We haven’t paid for those yet!” you shriek before turning to the girl again and bowing furiously “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”
“Wouldja relax (Y/n)-chan?” Atsumu took hold of your shoulder, stopping you from hitting your forehead on one of the crates “These are free samples”
He pointed to the little corner of the stall where smaller size crates were neatly arranged, three pieces of each fruit sitting inside with the sign reading free sample, pasted at the front.
“They’re really good (Y/n), here” Bokuto fed you a piece, watching as you munch on the sweet and juicy fruit.
You let out a hum, swallowing the fruit “This is good” you turn to look at the girl, eyes wide “This is really good
She gave you a shy smile, a light shade of pink now visible on her cheeks “Really? Thank you”
“So, how much for all of these?” you opened your bag, pulling out your wallet.
“It’s okay, this is free”
You almost drop your wallet from what she said, you shook your head fishing out a few thousand yen bills and giving it to her “No, this is too much”
She pushes back your hand, lifting up your bag and giving it to your companions “Consider it as a gift” then she moves to serve the other customer in waiting, waving your group goodbye.
Sakusa pushed you to move when he still saw you staring at the rejected money in your hand, leading you to where you were going to buy your meat. Passing through the vegetable stands where you still need to buy some for when you’re finished at the butcher’s shop.
“Hiruma-san good morning!”
“Ah, come in come in!” an old man from behind the counter grinned, lifting the clever over his head before bringing it down on the thick meat place on his wooden chopping board. “What would you like today?”
He wipes his hands on his apron, walking behind the glass case grabbing a tong, snapping it a few times as they pick the meat they like for their lunch later. They were pointing mostly at anything they lay their eyes on, and Sakusa has to remind them about the budget and that they can’t have pork, beef, lamb, and duck at the same time.
“The others didn’t come with you today?” the old man asked, picking up the pork and beef slices that were far too many and bagging them. Then he grabbed another bag and went to the fish area.
“They’re busy at the house”
At the corner, you were counting the money, mentally calculating your budget again. The old man was giving large portions of the meat and you knew that it wasn't very cheap. Just a few cuts alone were worth a few hundred yen, what more when there are two types of meat involved with different varieties of fish thrown into the mix.
He tied the bags then gave it to Atsumu and Bokuto as Sakusa refused to touch the raw meat, not until it had been washed properly, not even if it’s packed away in a bag.
“This one is on the house”
“What? No!” you scrambled towards the man, almost tripping yourself in the process “Hiruma-san please just take the money, this is too much”
“This is a thank you for being such good patrons” he didn’t even let you say another word, the man just walked off to the other side of the display case catering to another customer who walked in.
What is up with these people ignoring you?
Hinata led you out, patting your back, chuckling at the pout on your face.
“Hinata, is our money not good enough?”
“Maybe they’re just feeling generous today (Y/n)”
You stood outside the shop, eyebrows furrowed in thought, you were starting to wonder if they were genuinely just being generous folks or there was something hidden behind their actions.
“Now, all we need are the vegetables then we can go home”
You look around for a nearby vegetable stall, one that you think is not friends with any of the guys so they’ll have no choice but to accept your money like a proper businessman.
“That one” you pointed to the one just besides the meat shop. “I’ll go”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, just stay put” then you walk off face determined. “Hello”
The vendor put down the crate he was holding, wiping his hands on his pants and walking over to you.
“(Y/n)?” You internally groaned, your old high school classmate standing in front of you at the other side of the stall, and here you were hoping it wouldn't be anyone you know.
“Masuda, long time no see” you nodded your head at him, picking through the vegetables. They were all fresh, he must’ve just arrived.
“Yeah, six years is a long time” He grabbed a basket holding it out for you, as you picked out, mushrooms, carrot, green onion and napa cabbage. “Doing some grocery shopping for the team?”
He gestures to the large amounts of vegetables you’re dropping in the basket “Yep, they’re big eaters. All of them”
He laugh placing them inside a plastic bag “They’re athletes after all”
“How much?”
You accepted the plastic big, the money ready in your hand.
“No. it’s free” you squint your eyes at him, pursing your lips “Consider it as my payback for helping me so many time during high school”
“School has nothing to do with this Masuda” you grab his hand, slamming the money on his palm “So for the love of all things holy, just accept the money”
You stared him down, daring him to refuse it one more time. He nodded his head, clutching the cash as you walked away satisfied that finally, finally, someone accepted your payment. You swore, if these people just keep on giving their products away just because the customer is a friend or a relative, you won’t be surprised if they go home without any profit at the end of the day.
“Let’s stop by the repair shop first then we’ll go home” Atsumu reminded before looking down at Sakusa’s outstretched hand “What?”
“Give me the keys, I’m driving this time” He snatched it out of Atsumu’s hand then climbed into the driver’s seat.
«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»
"It's such a nice day today isn't it?" Shugo leaned back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. The cabana tent serves as a good shade from the afternoon sun.
Adriah removes one of the earbuds from his ear, hands still moving across his notebook as he writes his notes from his Japanese lessons "It is, the sun feels really good"
They were now in the backyard enjoying the rest of the day besides the pool, Hinata and Bokuto were already playing in the water doing some diving tricks they saw on YouTube. (Y/n) and Atsumu were on the other side, the girl dying the setter’s hair as his roots were starting to show up, meanwhile Sakusa was still inside, probably finishing up on his cleaning.
“Wish days like these would last” Inunaki leaned down, opening the cooler beside his feet, grabbing three bottles of beer and giving it to the two. Opening the packet of chips resting on the table as they munch on some snacks, listening to the song they had put on the speaker to play.
"Kiyoomi, what have you got there?" Adriah asks as the germaphobe walks towards the garbage bags. Masked on his face, his hands covered with plastic gloves, holding what seems to be a ziplock bag filled with some sort of articles of clothing.
"Miya's dirty underwear" he swiftly answered, opening one of the bags and immediately tossing the ziplock bag inside and closing it again "He left it lying around in the bathroom again so I'm throwing it away"
He walks back into the house, probably to resume his cleaning escapades as the three older men could only watch his retreating figure, speechless.
"Should we tell Atsumu?" Adriah took a worried glance towards the piled garbage bag, eyebrows furrow in concern, before looking at the two again.
Inunaki waves his hand, biting on a potato chip "Nah, he'll find out soon once he realizes he's missing a few pair"
So they just continued whatever they were doing, Hinata and Bokuto's shouts and laughter echoing throughout the open space. A cool wind blew past them, ruffling the leaves of the trees planted near the fence as the flowers swayed along with it.
"Bokuto grab a drink here" the pepper haired male pauses his game with Hinata as he climbs out of the pool, water dripping from his body as he crouches in front of the cooler.
"Do you have soda Meian-san?" He rummaged through the multiple bottles and cans of alcohol, pushing the blocks of ice to the side before his eyes landed on the familiar green and black color scheme of a mountain dew can.
He took the can, and three more bottles before opening them and walking to where Hinata was now sitting at the edge on Atsumu and (Y/n)'s side of the pool, giving (Y/n) the soda and the two other bottles to Atsumu and Hinata.
“I’m still bothered about Atsumu’s underwear” Adriah once again turned around in his chair, eyes trained on the garbage bag, waiting for the time it gets to be picked up. “We could-“
A loud honking sound was heard from the other side of the fence as you stopped what you were doing. "The garbage truck is here" jogging to where the bags were resting. Bokuto and Hinata follow after her. Helping the girl carry them out, with their setter's underwear lying amongst the trash in one of the bags, and Atsumu, who was none the wiser, happily held the back gate open as the three walked out and gave it to the garbage man.
They shared a look, as if they had just indirectly participated in a crime, as the garbage truck drives away towards the other houses in the neighborhood.
“Let’s just hope Atsumu still have some spare left”
Sakusa who have already finished cleaning walk towards their area. Already changed into a pair of shorts, a t-shirt and a pair of flip-flops with a book tuck under his arms.
"You want a drink Kiyoomi?"
"No, thank you" Sakusa answered, before situating himself on the lounge chair and opening his book. It was rare for Sakusa himself to willingly join everyone, he's usually not into gathering or bonding that much, so the team must have reached a new level of personal hygiene for the Sakusa Kiyoomi to hang out with them.
It's probably the result of (Y/n) constantly reminding them to wash their hands with alcohol and hand sanitizers, telling them to wear face masks when they're out travelling. Lecturing them how pollution and their constant exposure to sweat and social interactions with other people can lead to a disease. When you had said that, they thought you were going to evolve into Sakusa 2.0 but remembered that you were a university graduate with a degree in sports science so they can’t really argue with that one.
“Maybe I should dye my hair as well, what do you guys think?” Shugo started as the two looked at him questioningly, watching as the captain inspected his hair through his phone’s front camera, running his hand through it as he tugs at the end.
Inunaki snorts, slumping on his chair “Oh please, you’re already old”
“I’m not old! I’m only 29”
The libero deadpanned at him “You’re literally one birthday away into turning 30”
Adriah just laughs, closing his notebook and looking at his captain “What color do you have in mind?”
“Blond looks cool” Shugo shrugs his shoulders, watching as you apply the last remaining dye on Atsumu’s hair.
Inunaki groaned “Oh god no, you’ll look like an old man trying to be hip”
“I told you, I’m not old!”
“Oh yeah? Because that gray hair says otherwise”
“What?”
Inunaki and Adriah pointed at the front part of his hair, as he held up his phone to see a strand of gray hair sticking out among his dark locks.
“What the fuck”
“Congratulations captain, that is a milestone” Adriah patted him on the back laughing.
Shugo stared at it in disbelief, lifting a hand and wrapping it on his finger then tugging.
"Don't pull it out, did you not learn from your elders?" Inunaki scolded him, slapping his hand away.
"Learn what?"
"If you pluck it out, they'll spread faster. Just let it be, it's not even that noticeable"
Shugo looked at it again then ruffled his hair to see if it could be hidden within the rest, and was satisfied when he saw it could be covered.
Silence filled them again, munching on their chips and drinking when Atsumu's booming voice erupted from the depths of the huge house.
“Where the heck are all my underwear?!”
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu#msby black jackals#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu oneshot#shugo meian#oliver barnes#inunaki shion#adriah thomas#bokuto kotaro#atsumu miya#sakusa kiyoomi#hinata shoyo
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Text
The Wild Abandoned
Fandom: The Witcher
Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier
Also on AO3
6773 words.
General Audiences / No Archive Warnings Apply
Complete
When he arrived back at the foot of the mountain, Geralt most decisively went in the complete opposite direction of Jaskier’s smell. He didn’t hear the animal following him at a safe distance.
* * *
Jaskier didn’t necessarily plan on following Geralt. They just happened to be travelling in the same direction, that was all.
CHAPTER 1 - The Wild Abandoned
Animals following him wasn’t that unusual, all things considered. Most creatures were curious about this strange, not-quite-human being travelling through their territory, but even when Geralt fed them the scraps of his own meal none of them had followed him for - Geralt narrowed his eyes and mentally tallied. For five days, at least. Of which Geralt spent only three asleep, deciding to hurry his travels as his coin ran out. He had heard rumours of Posada looking for a Witcher, and - although he hated himself for it - he hoped none had shown up yet. He did not have to check his purse to know there was only one coin left in it, nor did he need to check his supplies to know they were dwindling. Geralt sighed as he heard the creature following him speed up to catch up with the chestnut mare. Whatever it was, it would be scared away as soon as he arrived in Posada. If there was any lesson Geralt had learned over and over and over again during his time on the Path, it was to never get attached.
In Posada, he met a bard named Jaskier, and his life changed.
Two decades later, on a mountain, half the continent over, his life changed again.
When he arrived back at the foot of the mountain, Geralt most decisively went in the complete opposite direction of Jaskier’s smell.
He knew the smell of humans lingered, but five days, an equal amount of baths in the Gwenllech and three un- and repackings of his supplies later, Geralt could still faintly smell the bard’s distinctive, pinewood, autumn leaves and wolve’s fur smell, although the flowery perfume he usually masked it with was gone.
Geralt tried to blame his surroundings for creating the smell, but he knew there were no pine trees to be found for at least a hundred miles.
It was still the middle of summer as well.
He didn’t hear the animal following him at a safe distance.
* * *
He knew it was still too early to arrive in Kaer Morhen, so although this far North wasn’t his usual territory, he took whichever jobs he could get. The benefit of breaking out of his usual stomping grounds was, aside from the fact that the ‘Butcher of Blaviken’-legend was not tied to his name, that Jaskier’s joyful catchy kind annoying songs hadn’t reached the area either. A group of drowners, two frighteners, a wreight and a cockatrice later, he could almost forget what happened on the mountain.
Almost.
It wasn’t till the beginning of October, after the wreight but before the second frightener, that Geralt noticed he was being followed. The animal seemingly attempted not to get noticed, timing his footsteps at the exact rhythm of the latest Roach, a horse with a surprisingly consistent walk. Geralt did not know how long it had been following him, but that night he purposefully didn’t finish the rabbit he had hunted and roasted, throwing the bones with plenty of meat in the bushes behind him, in the general direction of the sound of softly padded paws touching the forest floor.
The next day, the bones and meat were still there.
The sound, however, was gone.
He tried not to let the overwhelming silence bother him.
Three days later, Geralt was almost convinced his offer had scared the creature away. Either that, or the pouring rain had caused the animal to give up on his curious pursuit, and find shelter somewhere in the cavernous mountains. The resulting floods paid Geralt’s next meal and shelter as he took care of the drowners plaguing one of the small Northern villages. They pay had been small, but the citizens thanked him for arriving so quickly. For a moment he feared that the villagers would burst into an all-too-familiar song, but instead they told him a neighbouring place needed his help as well.
After fighting the second freightner, the now-familiar sound of the animal’s steps returned. So did the rains, and Geralt decided to cut this season short and turn his meandering route into a direct journey to Kaer Morhen, the closest thing to a home he knew, except for- No. The closest thing to a home he knew. Geralt stared at the deer-made path ahead of him and banned all thoughts from a certain bard out of his head.
* * *
The creature, whatever it was, kept following him. If his medallion hadn’t stayed silent, Geralt would almost be worried. It was far away from its own territory now that the towering, deciduous-treed and cavernous Dragon Mountains had been replaced by the equally towering but pine-treed, steep-cliffed Blue Mountains. The creature hadn’t accepted a single offer of food, or shelter, or warmth. Not even when Geralt, silently cursing his own idiocy, had called out into the forest that the food thrown away was intended for this mysterious pursuer.
Geralt almost considered travelling the long way so he would pass through the planes, simply to see if the creature would follow, would allow himself to be seen, but that morning he woke up covered in a thin layer of snow.
He saddled Roach, saw his latest offering of food was once again ignored, and hastened his journey towards Kaer Morhen.
The creature followed, even during the treacherous journey towards the Witchers’ Castle.
Geralt almost resented the idea of wintering inside, since the creature would surely leave before spring.
‘You can’t follow me inside, you know. A castle isn’t fit for wild animals to thrive,’ Geralt had called into the dark two nights before arriving home. ‘You should go back. To your territory. To your family, if you have one. And if not, I am sure that you will be able to start one, if you are strong enough to follow me this far.’
His reply, as usual, had been silence.
The next day, the creature followed still.
* * *
‘Geralt! You’re uncharacteristically early,’ Vesemir greeted him at the gate.
‘Stayed North this time. I- I was already on my way back, simply hurried my way when the snow started.’
‘You were on your way back? Did that bard of yours finally take that teaching position Oxenfurt has been begging him to accept?’
Geralt placed his bags on the stable floor a little more violently than needed.
‘He’s not my bard. And I don’t care what he is doing right now. It’s not my concern.’
That evening, after a bath in the hot springs and a nice bowl of soup eaten next to the safety and warmth of the fire, the entire story came out, and Vesimir’s heart bled for his young pup.
* * *
Geralt didn’t mention the strange creature that had been following him until Eskel arrived two weeks later, mentioning that he had been followed for the last days of his journey home.
He wasn’t jealous at all when Lambert, arriving five days later, reported he had seen a wolf-like creature from a distance. Nor did he find an excuse to leave the dinner table to train his frustration away when Lambert said he had even fed the creature, for it looked haggard and ragged.
* * *
They didn’t speak of the creature till mid-December, when the three men went out into the snowy wilderness to hunt for fresh meat.
The creature was still there, following them from a distance.
‘If that thing ate every living thing on the mountain, we might not catch any prey at all,’ Eskel wondered aloud after two hours of fruitless searching.
‘Well, it clearly didn’t eat every living thing on this mountain,’ Lambert replied, to a frowning Eskel.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, we’re still here.’
‘I would barely call you ‘living’,’ Eskel retorted, steadying his stance just in time for Lambert to pounce on him.
‘Shh guys!’ Geralt hissed, focussing on a sudden burst of sound in the forest. A running predator, a fleeing prey, breaking branches, noises rapidly going louder until CRACK a frightened deer broke through a frozen bush, leaping over Eskel, a panicked cry as the Witcher grabbed her leg and pulled her down.
‘It does feel pretty unfair,’ Lambert mused as they dragged the carcass back to the castle. ‘This isn’t our prey, we stole it from that wolf. Should we, like, leave a part of it as some sort of thanks?’
Geralt ignored his two brothers but did hold out his bloodied sword when they decided to leave a part of the animal behind.
The next morning, the Witchers were woken up by a loud howl. When Geralt looked outside, he saw a bloody trail leading from the forest to the castle gate, where their offering was returned. ‘Looks like we didn’t steal its prey after all.’
* * *
The knowledge that, outside of the thick, stone walls, there was some creature looking out for them, made it a strange winter. From the brief glances in the dark evening, they had concluded it must be a wolf, but no reasoning for its seeming loyalty could be found. There was no magic, no curses or spells, no laws of surprise offered to pregnant wolves that could explain the presence of the animal. It didn’t seem to want shelter, and offered food was only touched occasionally. Any attempts at luring it out of the forest failed, as the wolf seemed to know when they were watching.
Geralt didn’t attack his brothers more aggressively during their training when the only consistency they could find was that the wolf didn’t seem to want to accept anything from Geralt, nor show itself when Geralt was nearby.
He also didn’t resent Vesemir when he told them one morning that he had seen the wolf prowling around the castle, and that when he had spoken to it, it had sat down and listened, its head slightly tilted and bright blue eyes surprisingly intelligent.
And that spring, when he travelled south and heard the creature following him, he most certainly didn’t feel relieved.
That was, not after he heard the news that the famous bard Jaskier had gone missing, hadn’t been seen in almost a year. Rumours were that the last time he was spotted, was in the presence of a certain white-haired witcher.
His arrival in larger cities was met with thrown rocks and angry insults.
He had almost forgotten what it felt like to be called a butcher and a murderer.
It was yet another reminder never to get attached.
The first coherent thought in Jaskier’s mind as he carefully made his way down the mountain was his internal surprise that he wasn’t crying. In all the songs of heartbreak and rejection, there were tears, heartbroken cries of anguish and dramatic falling to the knees. But the reality was that Jaskier was empty. Completely and utterly empty. For once he was devoid of words, devoid of song, devoid of poetic descriptions, laughs, chatter, of everything that made him the apparently so burdensome travel companion as he was.
The second coherent thought in Jaskier’s mind as he gathered his stuff from the inn and made his way into the forest was that he was lucky he never showed his more useful side to the Witcher. If he had, his broken heart would now most likely be literally torn to pieces. Geralt didn’t kill monsters, only if they hurt others.
And isn’t that what he did?
* * *
It took him half a day to find a body of water large and still enough to reflect his entire length. On the edge of the cave’s pool, lit by a hole in the ceiling letting in the midday sunlight, he started taking out his belongings, dividing them into three neat piles of ‘keep’, ‘toss’ and ‘hide’. The cavern itself gave ample opportunity for ‘hide’, and whatever he deemed unworthy of keeping was tossed in the ice-cold water. Whilst he waited for the stillness of the water to return, he methodically packed the rest of his belongings, taking in each item with precision.
A spider building his web in the opening between the light bright world of the insects and the darkness of the cave the eight-legged creature preferred, looked down at the strange man below him. He seemed to stare into the water for an eternity, before the form shifted, turned, and ran.
* * *
He didn’t necessarily plan on following Geralt. They just happened to be travelling in the same direction, that was all. Sure, there were quicker ways to reach the undiscovered regions north of Haakland, but those weren’t safe. Passing through planes and cities in this shape would certainly cause his end.
Jaskier told himself that travelling as a human would only slow him down.
He told himself that he couldn’t perform with this emptiness inside.
He knew that was nonsense, he knew he could act, pretend, and nobody would notice.
He followed Geralt anyway.
* * *
It was almost as if the past two decades hadn’t happened. It was almost as if he was still a young wolf, on his way back home after receiving his education, following a mysterious rider smelling of adventure and death and destiny.
Like last time, it took Geralt an embarrassingly long time to notice his presence. Unlike last time, he had gotten quite good at timing his footsteps to match that of Roach’s. And unlike last time, Geralt had thrown meat and bones in his direction.
Jaskier refused to eat. He could take care of himself, without being a burden.
He made sure to take a different route that night, knowing the direction in which Geralt was headed. He was practised with catching up to the Witcher by now, he was almost surprised that he had been able to find the man at all. If he was the cause of all of Geralt’s suffering, you’d think someone with Witcher training would be able to avoid him.
Then again, you’d think someone with Witcher training would know what he was.
* * *
After fighting a lost garkain without Geralt noticing a thing, Jaskier decides to follow the man for the Witcher’s own safety.
He does not allow himself to think about why Geralt is so out of form that he doesn’t notice a garkain following him for a full day, or the fight happening less than fifty miles from his camp. Instead, Jaskier blames the rain for Geralt’s sudden ineptitude.
He rejoins Geralt after he exits the village where he, according to two children playing witcher-and-monster a little too far into the woods, has defeated a freightener. He ignores every offering of food the Witcher throws in his direction. Not even when the man stupidly yells into the forest that the food was meant for him. There are enough squirrels and rabbits to hunt himself.
He never allows the Witcher to see him.
* * *
They are about a two-days journey away from Kaer Morhen when Geralt addresses him again. ‘You can’t follow me inside, you know. A castle isn’t fit for wild animals to thrive. You should go back. To your territory. To your family, if you have one. And if not, I am sure that you will be able to start one, if you are strong enough to follow me this far.’
If Jaskier were human, he’d laugh. ‘What do you think I am doing,’ he thinks instead. ‘Where do you think I am going? My territory is not where you finally noticed me following you. My territory is here, with you.’
It’s that last thought that makes him halt. His territory isn’t the Haakland’s mountains anymore, it isn’t the pack he left behind, nor is it Oxenfurt, nor is it any court he has performed at. His territory for the past twenty years has been Geralt.
But Geralt’s territory has never been him.
He follows Geralt to the top of the mountain and then makes his way down to await the Witcher’s brothers.
* * *
Eskel notices he is being followed after an hour. Lambert after fifteen minutes. As some sort of price, he allows the Witcher to see him, for just a bit.
He graciously accepts the offered food. He stays on the mountain, unable to leave his territory.
He knows it’s pathetic, he knows he should leave, he knows he will easily be able to take up the position as Alpha and lead his family through Haakland and beyond.
He stays near Geralt anyways.
* * *
It is well into December when he hears three pairs of footprints and silent banter echo through the forest he has now gotten to know so well. The Witchers, out for a hunt. He shrugs, listens where they are headed, and turns to run the other side.
He follows them, of course. And when he sees a lost deer that could feed him for the next month to come, he chases it towards them.
He wastes his precious energy that night dragging their pitiful offering back to the castle’s gate. An Alpha takes care of his pack, not the other way around.
He only eats from their offered food thrice. Twice out of politeness, and once because he is desperate. There isn’t much game and the mountain is cold.
* * *
He doesn’t approach the castle when he knows Geralt is watching. He knows the others have seen glances of him, and he secretly wonders if Geralt is frustrated that he is the only one who hasn’t. He wonders if Geralt has even noticed that he is the only one who hasn’t seen him.
In mid-February, during a particularly bright night, Vesemir talks to him. It’s mostly stuff Jaskier already knows: about who and what the Witchers are, about their history, about their home. But it is also things he doesn’t know. Vesemir tells about Lambert’s love for a Witcher from a different school, about Eskel’s insecurities regarding his scars, and finally, right before dawn starts to break, Vesemir tells him about Geralt. About how he most tortured of the children adopted into in Kaer Morhen managed to find joy on the Path in the shape of a brightly-coloured bard, who followed him and cared for him relentlessly for twenty years. About how he could finally let go of the heavy burden of his responsibilities, how he could finally see it as a joy rather than an oppressive fate. About how he realised the mortality of this human bard when he visited a village just as the little boy whose life he once saved was being carried to his grave by his grandchildren. About how all of the Witchers learned to never get attached. About the danger of the wolf being there, for it is clear the inhabitants of the ancient castle are getting attached to his weird loyalty.
That spring, Jaskier follows Geralt on the Path. He is his territory, after all.
Jaskier is too forgiving. When Geralt exits the first big city with wounds and quickly forming bruises, he is once again reminded the rest of the world is not.
#geraskier#geraskier ff#jaskier#geralt of rivia#the witcher#the witcher ff#the witcher fanfic#the witcher fanfiction#geraskier fanfiction#geraskier fanfic#eskel#vesemir#lambert#written by me#made by me#The wild abandoned
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hi there, so in love with your works. Seriously *bows head* thank you all so much. If its not too bad, I wanted to know how everyone in DAI from the advisors to the companions would react to a teen inquisitor who is brilliant at cooking? Yet the inquisitor has no idea about people from Leliana's agents to everyone else pinching her food.
Cassandra: She thinks she is being sneaky and subtle, insisting that because of their age and responsibility it is better for their young herald to stay close to camp and not take a watch when they leave Skyhold. There will be time for that when they are older, and bearless of a burden. If they will take on the difficulty of closing the rifts, then the most they should have to do is help around the camp, and after a long day nothing is appreciated more than hot food.
No one contradicts her, and the Seeker is left to silently congratulate herself on enjoying the absolutely divine way that their young leader has with rabbit and Hinterland herbs without making the Inquisitor feel worthless.
(And if everyone else lets her take a lead on that because she has mattered the speech, well...it’s really good stew.)
Varric: Damn, this is the stuff. Its like being back in the Hanged Man, except the bread is trying to actively strange him, and the pies aren’t staring back and..
It’s nothing like the Hanged Man, really, but the sheer comfort of phenomenal food at the end of the world? The same kind of warmth as sitting with your friends as the city goes to shit and laughing at a joke no one else gets. Their young protagonist has a good skill set on their hands, and If Varric’s writing table moves a little closer to the door into the kitchens, well.
Keeps the ink from freezing.
Solas: It had been a passing comment about the frilly cakes in Val Royeaux, some exchange of banter with Varric about time passing and philosophy and the unending banal that one takes on to keep the miles from turning monotonous. He’d had no idea the Herald was listening, and so it makes it all the more touching when- after waqving to them as they take on the climb to the library- he comes down from his painter’s perch to find three petit fours waiting for him on his table.
It drives home that they are a thoughtful young person, so different from the rest of this world, and if he uses the sweetness of the frosting and cake to drive away the twinge of guilt that his plans still move at speed....it does not take away from their talent, or their kindness. He will be content with that.
Blackwall: Food is food, particularly on the road. Hard tack and sausage has kept many a soldier alive, and he is the last person you’d hear complaining that he can’t put his pinky out eating meat from a spit. Luxury is for soft handed nobles, not men and women striving to make the world better. Let them have the best cuts-- Blackwall would starve before he robs true heroes of a hot meal.
And yet the first time he comes back from gathering firewood to find that the reason the inquisitor was tying so much string around the side of a wild hog was to make a porketta, and he got a good whiff of roasted pork slowly spinning in it’s own drippings....It would be a harder sacrifice. It made the Inquisitor so happy to watch their work be enjoyed and help people though, that it would the crueler not to take some.
And if he dreams about the tender meat and crispy skin all perfectly seasoned and roasted for days afterwords, that’s no one’s business of his own.
Vivienne: She cuts an imposing figure, and for the Madame de Fer is quite proud. It has cowed more than one recalcitrant novice into place with only a long legged stride alone, and for that she is a legend in her circle. Of course the stories do not tell how she would never be cruel or unfeeling to a child, and particularly not one far from home and frightened of every shadow like the ones that the Templars rip from families and depost in a new and strange place.
She expects a similar attitude from the young Herald, particularly after her (rahter stunning) entrance on their first meeting. And perhaps they were a bit overawed, but before it could become something she needs to address Lady Vivienne is pleasantly surprised to find their young leader coming to her for advice from a letter from some minor Orlesian lord. And while surely it will be up to Josephine to craft the response Vivienne is delighted that the Inquisitor wants her input.
That they went to the effort to bring beignet’s with them as a bribe...For that, she will give them every secret of the author’s well kept family scandals.
Sera: Their Bitty Herald can make cookies better than Sera can make cookies, but they aren’t the kind that you throw at people as a prank or that come out all rock hard and brown and blegh. They are the soft gooey kind that make you want to steal the whole plate and eat them on your roof but also throw the plate at their Quizznitor because....because cookies!
She will trade pranks for cookies, who ever her Jenny in training wants to see doused in water or flour or...or...pudding! Pudding for cookies is the most fair.
Dorian: Southern food is bland and tasteless, and Skyhold’s resident ‘Vint will endure it for as long as he must to help defeat this ancient magister and get things on the right track. And the beer isn’t the worst, much to his own dismay as his delicate palette accepts the swill. But the food is all friend or brown or smothered in gravy, and he’d just as soon not.
So when they finally stop for the night under the endless web of branches that keep the sky from meeting the Fallow Mire, the pond water full of dead people sounds more appealing than one more night of Varric’s nug stew. Which makes the fact their valiant young Herald just ladled him a bowl of Minestrone so much more impressive. Their shrugged explanation of ‘I’ve always wanted to make it and the merchants had actual artichokes on the way here and you can tell me if I got it right’ does nothing to take away the warmth and delight the gesture brings to him.
It would be like coming home, if anyone had ever made sucha rustic and delightful soup for him without strings and hooks attached in Tevinter, and for the first time on the whole mission Dorian isn’t chilled the rest of the night.
The Iron Bull: He isn’t sure which one of the Chargers talks to the Herald (lies, it was Krem), but one night half the fortress is piled into the Rest and the Inquisitor is waiting with four bowls of unreadable origin. The explanation that these are four kinds of curry and each is hotter than the last is the best gift he’s ever gotten, but the wager of a single coin (he won’t steal more than that from the kid) that the Iron Bull can’t finish them for the spice is even better.
Three hours later finds him chewing on one of Stitche’s poultices for a burnt tongue (and throat and stomach and probably ass in a few hours) but one coin richer and hoarse voiced from the roaring laughter he’d gotten after a straight face convinced Krem to try the last bown and he’d literally wept.
Good times.
Cole: The nug is made of bread, and it isn’t a nug but it looks like one. And it’s wearing a tiny hat! ‘Roll the dough out, has to be thin so it rises to keep the shape, he likes nugs so much and doesn’t ask for anything and Sera bet me I couldn’t.’ You made it for me. Thank you! He says hello back!
Josephine: When their ambassador hears that not only does the Herald have an aunt who married into a merchant house in Antiva but the inquisitor spent a summer there and learned to make authentic Paella, Lady Montiliyet’s mind is a whirlwind of plans and thoughts of just the appropriate bribe that would spare her from getting down on her knees and begging a fifteen year old to make her favorite dish. Eventually Leliana gets tired of little doodles of steaming bowls on all their meeting notes and sends a raven three windows over, Josie, really with an ‘anonymous’ request to make it and leave it in the war room in exchange for a trade of equal value.
And when Josephine finds out that all the Inquisitor wants is the creepy love letters from young Orlesian nobles to go away, she takes great delight in her strongly worded letters to their mothers in between heaping mouthfuils of white wine rice and shrimp and the warm bite of saffron that will always be home.
Leliana: It is written on no report or schedule, and her agents will go to the grave without speaking of it to another soul, but the Inquisition’s spymaster has a man in the kitchens whose only role is to fetch firewood and water and try to one day recover his shattered after a terrible mission in her service. It’s easy work for a man who gave so much, and somewhere he is able to do good work until the tremors and the nightmares stop. The kitchen staff is kind to him and treat him well, but his true mission is known only to himself and his mistress.
The second the herald starts making Cassoulet he is to fetch her immediately. She won’t be caught in a meeting and miss her favorite food again, damn it.
Cullen: It’s hard for the Inquisitor’s commander to be at ease with someone who is both a child and at least nominally his leader. They are someone he wants to protect, but also the key to stopping the world and someone who must be on the front lines. That is gift alone to the world, but when the rumors begin to swirl that they will also go out of their way to make things that people like it brings a small smile to his face. The world would be better if had more people like the herald in it.
Especially if they could all make little crocks of shepards pie like the one that sits on his desk after a day of long meetings and a lyrium migraine. That might make everything right again.
-- Mod Fereldone
#dragon age inquisitions#Cassandra Pentaghast#Solas#Varric Tethras#sera#dorian pavus#the iron bull#cole#blackwall#josephine montilyet#Leliana#cullen rutherford#vivienne de fer#reactions#teen inquisitor
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OP by @vestige-of-thorns acting like she hasn’t been sending me anon hate. She is quoting the things she’s already said to me on anon hate like calling me a borderline sociopath. Calling me repeatedly the vampire stalker is comical, by the way. I’m starting to think about branding that on a shirt, or something. Careful, I do not bite you while you’re typing vitriol. You might turn literate.
You are late to be pulling that card out of your deck, honey. You’ve already admitted to doing it. People have proof you’ve been privately sending them hateful messages directly from your own account as you promised you would to anyone defending me (a promise yet again done on anonymous hate you sent to me).
People can explore my #drama tags to keep track of everything you have said and done to me. Obviously, if it was other friends of yours—they would have corrected me a long time ago not to tag you, as I’ve warned you I would do, in the hopes of protecting you and keeping you from being falsely blamed.
But, obviously you are the guilty one. No one has run to defend your innocence, because it does not exist. And knowing how original you are, I can bet good money that will be your next scheme. I already know you’ll try to think of something knowing each and every fiasco to this present moment is failing you miserably. You keep trying to manifest new plots, but they always ricochet. Maybe, just consider being a good person and shutting the hell up?
I love how you and Tessa are attempting to put words in my mouth in the meantime that I’ve never said, this is like punching yourself in the face. There are people who actually know how to read and are paying attention to what I have to say. They know a rant about my beauty does not exist. Do not put false quotations. I feel like people believing you at this point are people choosing out of purely their own bias.
PS. Of course, Tessa (aka mybloodiedvalentine) just had to reblog Vestige’s rant and add in this:
Oh, Tessa. I am more than aware you are not above being desperate for attention. “She’s just begging for a petty middle school roast” is the level of elementary thinking I would expect from you by now. “Girl you’re not cute” and yet, my looks are always the central point of every rant you two women make about me. Almost. Every. Single. Time.
You both complain I write too much, but seriously what is all this nonsense? You’re just both bitter I can bring up proof against you. You continue to complain about things I say without once showing screenshots for honest context.
“She’s been out of control for years and apparently keeps making issues for people” and once again, we will all ask you for real evidence. “I’m about to start making fun of her like Comedy Central Roast Style.” Do that. You are like talking about emulating the most cringe of television. No one will take that seriously or find it funny. People stopped finding it funny since the mid-90’s. It’s why they keep having to rerun South Park. It’s the only thing left anyone will watch. And even that is cringe. But, go off. Whatever comforts.
Honestly, you are both growing very tedious to deal with. Go take up knitting or something. Get a real hobby. Stop acting like you’re not haters, when every action continues to be hateful. It’s a waste of your energy and time. Please consider going back to school and getting an education, since you both seem very distressed by reading. Just make sure your hobby isn’t continuing the path of brain rot that watching Comedy Central has turned into.
Also, for those wondering why I have been responding, it’s so @staff has continued proof. Private reports are one among millions. They can get lost. Posts are the things that get the most attention and response. At minimal, it will give them more to reference. Sooner or later Staff will need to notice the abuse.
Also, from a legal standpoint, it’s creating records. Even if my abusers change accounts, there is a link and record. Records are always traceable, even if they’re trying to hide on proxy servers or alter identities between profiles. They might be able to trick bystanders, but you can not trick investigators and lawyers. Every little thing that is happening I am documenting and backing up. They might laugh now, but it won’t be amusing when the day comes and I have to press charges.
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