#forgot to turn off neighborhood stories for them oops

[sojutrait]

chu hua visited her aunts to play with her cousin gianna and it turns out??? both of them are expecting??? which i mean sure

[typewrittenluck]

as the seasons change

C!Technoblade x gn!reader highschool!au

Word Count: 9.1k

Pronouns: they/them

A/N: this is literally so self indulgent, i spent a whole day writing this because im going through my techno feels rn. it basically follows the story of oblivious Y/N and Techno throughout the four seasons :)

Warnings: Underaged drinking, Swearing, Smoking, Drugs (very brief)

Suggested Songs: The State of Grace, Taylor Swift/ MEET ME AT OUR SPOT, THE ANXIETY, WILLOW, Tyler Cole/ that way, Tate McRae/ Falling, Chase Atlantic/ Compass, The Neighborhood

SUMMER------------

The August air was thick with the heat of the almost-setting sun. Her rays beat down on the backs of the group of teens, and mosquitos filled the silences between them with their incessant buzzing.

A small crack of static preceded the soft sound of music, accompanied by the sharp smack of Niki and Jack’s celebratory high-five.

“Didn’t you start setting up the speaker like an hour ago?” questioned Wilbur, who was sunk into a half-broken lawn chair that he had found in the garage. 

“Yeah, it would have been much faster if you had asked Techno” chimed Y/N from their place leaning against the above mentioned man’s leg.

His grunt of response was cut short by his little brother, Tommy, bursting into laughter.

“Because he’s TECHno! Get it?!”

Everyone groaned and Wilbur smacked Tommy upside the head, grumbling about “shouldn’t have let you come hang out with us”

Y/N giggled at that, but took sympathy on the boy. “Aww don’t be like that Wil, Tommy, I thought that was hilarious.”

“Don’t encourage him, Y/N” Techno leaned down to murmured to them in his low, monotonous voice.

There it was. The way he said their name! The way his calf felt under Y/N’s back! The way he whispered sentences directly to them, as if it was some closely guarded secret. It was enough to bring butterflies to their stomach as they praised whatever higher being was out there for the heat of the day covering their blush.

“It’s so fucking hot,” Fundy moaned, kicking Wilburs shin from his place lying facedown on the grass. “Can we go to the pool or something?”

His request was met with a spectrum of responses, varying from Tommy’s “YES, PLEASE WILL? PLEASE!” to Technoblades indifferent shrug.

Jack took note of Technoblades open response with a shout of laughter. “TECHNOBLADE IN THE POOL! I WOULD PAY GOOD MON-”

“I’m not getting in, dumbass.”

“Why? Scared you’ll ruin your hair?”

“No, he doesn’t want us to know he’s secretly jacked under the sixteen sweaters he wears.”

Technoblade picked up the hem of his sweatshirt, making eye contact with Niki. She has a point.

“How do you wear that in the Summer?”

“It’s n- TOMMY!!” 

Shrieks of laughter follow Tommy’s water gun assault on his brother. “When did he slip away to go get those?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“WHEN ARE WE LEAVING??” Tommy asked enthusiastically. 

---

A crowded minivan, a stop to pick up Tommy’s friend, and a raid of Phil’s linen closet for pool towels later, the group arrived at the neighborhood pool. The sun hung low in the horizon as people spilled out of Phil’s van and began dragging the pool toys and water guns towards the gate.

The air around the black metal bars barring their entrance to the pool seemed to quiver. 

“I think Wil has the pool key.” piped Niki in response to Fundy throwing his weight against the fence. 

Fundy, in turn, sprinted back to the car, where Wilbur was taking inventory of snacks (and probably hiding the best for himself). 

Technoblade looked down at the two younger boys and Y/N conversing in hushed whispers. All of a sudden, they screamed out in perfect synchronization, in equally high pitched voices,

“Let me innnn! Let me in pleaseeee!”

And promptly burst into giggles. Y/N almost toppled into Techno, both from laughing and the slight weariness from the heat. 

The pool noodles he was balancing beneath his arms (laden with tote bags of pool toys and towels) toppled to the ground, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was Y/N’s hand steadying themself on his chest, and the way his face began to heat up almost unbearably considering the weather. 

“Oops, sorry!” they squeaked, leaning down to pick up the fallen noodles.

Technoblade was burst out of his daze by the return of his brother and Fundy, who triumphantly swiped the access card against the pad before kicking the gate wide open.

The clang of metal against the concrete pool clubhouse sent reverberating waves into the air, and everyone winced as the metal continued to drag. 

Pool entrances varied, Niki, on the one hand, took her time tip-toeing into the water by the stairs, while Tubbo and Tommy almost knocked each other out crashing over the edge to the deep end.

Y/N chuckled at their antics, but seeing as they had settled on not getting wet today, they picked out a chaise in the shade and pulled a book and pen out of the small bag they had brought with them.

Technoblade watched them with almost unwavering interest, unless someone happened to look his way, in which case he would quickly turn back to his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his home screen until they turned away.

From his spot under the little roof of the clubhouse, he had an almost unobstructed view of Y/N, and how they chewed at the end of the pen they used to annotate their book. Oh how he wished he could read the little notes they scribbled in the margins, or the drawings they would surround words with when they got distracted from reading. And the way that pen dangled from their lips, their tantalizing, soft lips. Taunting him, almost. And their jewel-like, bright eyes. Always so inviting and playful; like the way they were meeting his right now-

Shit

He hadn’t realized he’d been staring that intently. A small quirk of their eyebrow and a smirk on their lips was enough to make his heart give out. But not now. Not when they were waving their hand so intently to get him to sit next to them. Pretending to ponder the decision and gather his belongings, (when in reality he was just collecting his bearings), he walked over to them.

“See! You don’t always want to be alone, Mr. I’m so antisocial and I hate everyone!” they smiled, patting the adjacent seat.

You’re the only exception, he thought, his brain screaming and pushing to let the words leave his mouth. He couldn’t though, not when they could never think of him the way that he thought of them.

So he answered with a small smile and a chuckle. 

“What are you reading?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray! Remember you said you thought I’d enjoy it?” they answered with enthusiasm, that sparkle still evident in their eyes.

It warmed his heart to know that they had taken the suggestion and committed to the book, which was admittedly a pretty tough read, because of him.

“How could I forget?”

Their smile widened and they buried their head back in the book, that cursed pen once again being squished between their plush lips.

Technoblade peered over their shoulder to see that they were nearing the middle of the book, where Dorian returns from his  theater date with Basil and Henry. Feeling satisfied enough that they were invested in the story, given their gasp and furious scribbling in the margins, he felt it safe enough to stare at them under the orange-tinged glow of the sunset. 

Of course, he forgot about the crowd of his friends who were nudging each other and whispering about his infatuation with you. The whispers reached Wilbur who narrowed his eyes in his twin's direction and made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Once dark hit and the water began to run a little too cold for anyone's taste, they began to wrap themselves up in towels and raid Wilburs snack stashes. The snack distribution was cut off by Wilburs phone, screen lit up with a zoomed in photo of none other than Philza. 

DADZA!!! Read the contact name as Wilbur swiped the screen and held the phone between his shoulder and ear, continuing to hand out snacks.

“OI, where in fucks sake are you lot? It’s an hour past the devils ass why i…”

The rest of Phil’s screaming faded as Wilbur walked away to calm his father down. 

“AN HOUR PAST THE DEVILS ASS” Y/N screamed with laughter, sending the entire group into raucous peals of giggles.

“Yep, mhhm, we’ll be there” Wilbur walked back towards the group, motioning for everyone to get in the car.

“Yes dad I know, yes, okay we will drop him off. Okay, bye” Hanging up the phone, he ushered people back into the car, holding Tubbo back by his upper arm so that he could sit with easiest access to the door.

After dropping Tubbo off, and then doubling back and driving around town to drop people off at various houses, Technoblade, Tommy and Wilbur were alone in the car with Y/N. 

“Here. Here. WIL! Pull over!” 

The van screeched to a halt as Y/N clambered over Tommy’s long legs, almost falling out onto the pavement. They leaned against the door of the passenger seat, thanking Wilbur and bidding farewell to the brothers. Just before they stepped away, Technoblade leaned down and kissed the crown of their head where it was leaning against his open window. Their stunned expression was lost in the dark and the window slid shut as Wilbur slammed the gas pedal to make it back in time before his dad’s curfew.

“What the fuck was that” 

Technoblade gave him a glare, which lost its effectiveness when paired with the burning red blush flooding his face and neck, highlighted under the harsh white lights of the car. He turned his face away and resigned to staring out the window, the night air filtering through the small crack giving his face a little bit of relief.

“Okay at least tell me, are you together?”

“No.”

“But he likes them!” piped up Tommy from the back seat, looking up from his phone where he was playing a game.

“No I- I don’t” Damnit The crack in his voice gave it away.

Wilbur, sensing that it seemed to be more of a sensitive topic than he thought, decided to drop the subject for the time being, and Tommy was already absorbed back in his game.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence as they raced against time and the rules of Philza Minecraft.

AUTUMN----------------------

School started a few weeks after the pool night, which was followed by many late nights and summer fun by the friends, the knowledge that half of them would be away to college next year heavy in the atmosphere. To say the least, Junior year was not treating Y/N well. They were almost always working on homework, if not doing SAT prep, and they rarely went out with their friends. The only time Technoblade got to see them was during his AP Lit class, and because of it, he considered himself the luckiest man in the world. Ms. Ren’s Literature classroom was the only place Technoblade seemed to see the old Y/N, the one from over the summer who got enthusiastic over books and gave him playful punches when he was a little too mean to their friends. Now, the only Y/N he saw was a stressed, tired person who was always carrying an energy drink in one hand and a stack of homework in the other. Except for in Lit. Y/n’s eyes would brighten as they discussed the reading from the previous night and their legs would jostle Technoblades from under their shared table to show him an annotation they had made. Technoblade assumed they were just rejuvenated from the literature, never once letting the thought cross his mind that maybe, just maybe, he was part of the equation too.

On the rare occasion that they would hang out with their friends, they would be easily prone to tears and every conversation would be redirected to how tired and stressed they were. Of course, Technoblade wanted them to be happy, and felt enormous empathy for his friend in the harshest year of high school, but he had suddenly become hyper-aware that the clock was ticking on his time left with them. He was a senior this year, and while Y/N still had a year left to go, Technoblade would be on his way to college, perhaps out of the country, in less than a year. It wasn’t wrong to want to make the most of his time with them.

It didn’t help that this internal time bomb was also counting down the opportunities he had left to tell them how he felt.

-----

He decided to get to them when they were in a good mood, and more likely to say yes. After Ms. Ren had finished assigning the reading due by Monday, he turned to the beautiful person who sat next to him and muttered in a low voice, 

“How’s your weekend looking?”

They looked up with a bright smile and whispered back

“I have tons of homework but I should be able to knock it out with a good day of work. Why? What do you have in mind?”

He knew this was the right time to ask you. 

“Just be ready by 4pm on Saturday.”

----

Technoblade sat on the edge of his usually neat bed, now strewn with almost every sweater he owned. He was picking a stray piece of lint from the sweater nearest to him when he saw his brother walk past, then backtrack out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s got you all indecisive?” Wilbur asked, gesturing vaguely to the sweaters and random articles of clothing adorning his room.

“Wait! Is today your date with Y/N?”

“It’s not a date.” grumbled Technoblade.

“Then why are you so stressed about what to wear?” he replied with raised eyebrows.

Technoblade groaned and threw himself on top of the pile of wool on his bed. “I just need this to be perfect. Y/N needs a break, and they deserve everything to be just right.”

“And you want to impress them” sang Wilbur, now nudging Techno aside to sift through his sweaters.

Technoblades noise of indignation was muffled as Wilbur threw a cream colored sweatshirt at his face. 

“What about this?”

“I couldn’t find what to wear it with.”

Wilburs sigh rang through Technoblades room as he opened the closet, now in his proper mindset as the family fashion consultant. Garment after garment was thrown in Techno’s general direction, and he leaned and reached to grab them all. 

“Try that”

Technoblade walked out of the bathroom to find Wilbur rummaging through his jewelry. 

“When did I say it was fine for you to go through my stuff?” asked Technoblade, shoving Wilbur away. Wilbur shrugged in response, motioning for Techno to open his hand so that he could drop his selection of rings and necklaces into his open palm.

As Wilbur walked out the door, he thought he heard a faint “thank you”, and smiled to himself.

-----

“This is elaborate”

“I’m a dynamic man Y/N.”

Y/N laughed at his response to the back seat of Technoblades car, which was filled with “supplies” for the evening.

“That outfit sure is dynamic.”

“Why?” Technoblade asked nervously, drumming slightly on the steering wheel. “Do you like it?”

“I love it! I didn’t think you could get any hotter but you somehow pulled it off!”

Realizing what they said, Y/N’s cheeks flushed a deep red and they began to pick at their flannel. As soon as Technoblades surprise wore off, and the butterflies faded back to the dull sensation that always seemed to linger when he was around them, he let out a snort of laughter. That sent both of them into a fit which continued until Technoblade hit a pothole from laughing so hard. 

Y/N’s momentary fear only made them laugh harder, but Technoblade attempted to quell himself before he no longer had four functioning tires.

“Do I get to know where you’re taking me?” Y/N asked. They had driven a little ways out from the city, to the vaguely familiar areas that one only drives by when they’re leaving town.

“Yes.” He replied, slowing the car into a small parking lot. “Because we’re here.”

The pair entered the small bookshop and a bell rang overhead. The store smelled of dust and books and Technoblade saw Y/N breathing the scent in like a breath of new life. Of course, this ended up in a small coughing fit which he pulled them out of with a few pats to their upper back. 

“Okay we are on somewhat of a schedule, so I need you to go get a book. Any book, and meet me back at the register in 10 minutes.” He said, grabbing them by the shoulders and making direct eye contact. “Okay, Go!” 

And they both got lost in the mazes of words.

At 4:30 sharp, Y/N found Technoblade waiting for them at the register with a stiff red hardcover. He reached out for their book as they reached for their wallet. 

“Tech, no, you don’t have to buy me books I can get it myself”

If for nothing else, the way they shortened the already shortened version of his name made his heart stutter, and he was overcome with the sudden urge to buy them every book in this store. But he wordlessly nodded his head ‘no’ and paid for their two books. 

As they walked back to the car, Y/N admired the way his jewelry glistened in the sun. The gold necklaces contrasting against the black turtleneck he wore under his sweatshirt made them think of the summer, when his rings would shine under the sun and in the light of their almost nightly group bonfire. Technoblade opened the door for them when they got to the car, pink hair flying in his face because of the wind. Before getting in, Y/N threw their arms around his neck in a hug.

“Thanks”

They mumbled into his neck.

He blamed his pink cheeks on the cold.

-----

“Let me carry something!” Y/N argued as Technoblade led them down the path of a park a little ways away from the bookstore.

“No.” he answered, a basket and three bags dangling from his arms. 

The argument continued as they made their way down the paved path, leaves crunching underneath their feet. A little ways into the walk, when the conversation had faded to discussing the latest reading assigned by Ms. Ren, Technoblade stopped Y/N by throwing a tote bag-laden arm against their chest.

“Here.”

He parted the branches that covered a small, unpaved path that led deeper into the trees.

“How do I know you’re not trying to lure me here to kill me?” mused Y/N, already a few steps ahead of the pink-haired man on the pine-straw path.

“Yeah hold on, let me just get my axe out from this basket real quick” deadpanned Technoblade, earning a giggle from Y/N.

A few moments later, the path opened up to a clearing with a few fallen logs and a small brook trickling near the edge.

“This is beautiful Tech! How did you find this?” they asked with an awestruck expression.

He hid the way that his ears flushed with his hair and busied himself laying out the picnic supplies he had dragged all the way out here, mumbling something unintelligible.

Once he was done, he looked up to find an empty clearing, Y/N nowhere to be found.

“Y/N?” he called

He received a response in the form of a small yelp and a rather loud splash. “Over here!”

“What the hell were you thinking?” he asked, sprinting over to the edge of the stream. Their giggles calmed him a little bit, but didn’t absolve him of all his worry as he subtly looked them over for any injuries. 

“I thought the rock would be steady enough to hold me” they pouted, gesturing vaguely at the rock in question, now shiny with water.

Technoblade sighed, rolling his eyes at their antics, but hoisted them up nonetheless. Once they were back on solid ground, he curled his finger around the back of his sweatshirt's neckline and pulled it over his head, almost knocking off his glasses in the process. He missed the way Y/N’s eyes narrowed and focused on the way his black knit turtleneck hugged his figure, tucked into the dark brown trousers Wilbur had dug out of his closet just hours previously.

“Are you warm?” asked Y/N with an incredulous look, teeth slightly chattering.

“It’s for you, dumbass. You’re almost sure to get sick in those wet clothes.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered at the gesture, and at the way Technoblade shushed them when they tried to argue.

He turned away as Y/N shed their dripping flannel and replaced it with the sweatshirt, warmed by his own body heat. 

When he turned back, he almost lost his breath again. Seeing them in his sweatshirt, the sleeves dangling past their fingertips and their hair a little tousled from pulling the garment over their head, messed with him just a little bit. He ignored the way that his cold-nipped nose was turning redder and redder and instead gently picked up their hand to guide them over to where he had set up the picnic, next to a towering tree with a thick trunk.

Both of them were hyper-aware of the way that his fingers held theirs, and the warmth that seemed to radiate from their touch. Neither one of them wanted to let go, but as they plopped down onto the picnic blanket sitting on the ground, their grip fell apart.

The loss of contact made the October day seem colder.

The muffled crunching of the leaves under their butts filled the air as they settled into a comfortable position and began digging through the picnic basket Technoblade had brought with food. The tension in the air slowly faded as they began to eat and the atmosphere filled with the joyous conversation of the two painfully oblivious teenagers. 

When they had both finished eating, Technoblade pulled out the bag that he had brought from the bookstore and handed Y/N their book. The smile that graced their lips as they mumbled out another ‘thank you’ brought another wave of butterflies down Technoblades stomach. He pulled out his own book and made himself comfortable against the thick tree trunk behind him. Y/N reached into their back pocket and pulled out a ballpoint pen, the cap of the pen riddled with chew marks. 

The damn pen.

They stuck it between their teeth and let it hang off of the right side of their mouth. Technoblade felt his chest heat up as they nudged him over to share his spot leaning against the tree. He opened his phone and hit play on a mix of Arctic Monkeys and Gang of Youths, before leaning back to where his shoulder was pressed with theirs and opened his book.

Time seemed to forget its rules in this quiet little forest, with just Y/N and Technoblade lost in their separate worlds of words. The peace was only ever disturbed by Y/N occasionally scribbling something down in the margin of their book, to which Technoblade would demand to see, and they would fall into a small discussion about the topic.

These occasions slowly began to wane off until Technoblade felt Y/N lean their head against him with a thud. He looked down to see them fast asleep, half leaning on his shoulder with the pen still clutched between their fingers. He took note of the way the pen was balanced like a cigarette and the small puffs of air following their cold breath resembled smoke. Ignored the way his heart was almost convulsing on itself, he chose to wrap his arm around them and savour the moment.

Because he was aware that before he knew it, it would be over.

WINTER---------------------------

The student media center had a hushed atmosphere to it, as people took advantage of their last afternoon to study for semester finals. Winter break would let out the next day, but for the overwhelmed Juniors and Seniors now crowding the library, the excitement would not set in until they quelled their nervousness over the last final of the semester.

One of the study rooms situated in the back was now crowded with the notorious friend group as they crammed for their last final. Fundy, Jack and Niki were trading around their history notes, Wilbur and Minx were arguing over the proper situation of a unit circle, and Technoblade was flash quizzing Y/N on the Polyatomic ions. Their frantic studying was interrupted by their friend, George, who had gotten bored of watching his two best friends during their last football practice of the semester. He quietly walked in and took a seat in the corner, pulling out a notebook and studying something or the other. 

“Why aren't Dream and Sapnap here cramming with us?” Minx asked George.

“They have their ‘weightlifting’ final tomorrow” seethed George, most likely jealous of his friends’ somewhat pointless final.

Everyone laughed, and some groans of similar jealousy rang through the air right before the cracking loudspeaker of the school crunched to life, announcing that the doors would close at 6:00. Y/N looked down at their watch face, which read 5:45.

“Fuck, I’m never going to learn these charges! Don’t even get me started on the fact that I don’t have the solubility rules memorized!” squeaked Y/N in frustration. Everyone gave them a sympathetic look, knowing the rigorous emotional and mental demands of taking AP Chemistry.

“Don’t worry, you still have the whole night to study!” consoled Fundy.

Technoblade felt his heart break at the way their eyes filled with tears of frustration. 

“My siblings scream way too much, I can never concentrate at home”

“Come study at our house!” exclaimed Wilbur. “We can kick Tommy out so he won’t bother you!”

Wilbur sensed their hesitation and cut in before they could say ‘no’

“Come on, Dad won’t mind, he loves you! And it gives us an excuse to send Tommy out!”

Y/N turned their head in questioning to Technoblade, who grunted and nodded his head.

“I mean, if you’re sure”

Eager nodding.

“Thanks so much Wil!”

---

It was 11:50 and Phil’s living room resembled something closer to an FBI clue board, with flashcards and chemistry notes strewn on every possible surface. Wilbur had retired to bed after reviewing his Calculus notes one last time, and Tommy was spending the night at Tubbo’s. Phil leaned against the doorway and watched his son coach his best friend through the last few chapters of the textbook with a smile on his face.

“Make sure not to go to sleep too late! You need enough sleep for your final!” he called, retreating up the stairs.

Y/N checked their watch and sighed at the time. “I should get going soon.” they mumbled, beginning to collect their notes.

“Stay the night” suggested Technoblade, pulling a blanket over their shoulders to protect them from the December chill that seemed ever-present, even with the crackling fireplace illuminating the room. 

“I can’t-” A yawn cut their sentence “I can’t stay, I don't have anything and I’ve wasted enough of your time already”

Technoblade took them by the shoulders and looked them in the eyes, albeit having to lean down. “You can never waste my time”

Shivers ran through Y/N’s tired body and they offered him a weak smile.

He plucked the pen that was hanging from their mouth out and feigned disgust as he wiped it on their shirt, before throwing it in the pile of stationary by his feet.

“How about you stay for a hot chocolate?”

The invitation was too hard to resist so they gave in, as long as it was “only ten more minutes”.

Technoblade filled two mugs from the pot of the beverage that Phil had left on the stove, and topped it with marshmallows and whipped cream.

Y/N took the mug from him with a ‘thank you!’, and led the way back to the living room to nestle under the warmth of the fireplace. The pair were both exhausted from the day of studying, and chose to sip their beverages in silence. Before either of them knew it, they were both asleep under Y/N’s blanket, cuddled up against the cold of the night.

---

They woke up to the banging of Wilbur running down the stairs. 

“Shit, you two are still asleep?”

Y/N jumped up, knocking over their empty mug in the process. “Fuck, what time is it?” they asked, urgently rummaging around for their bag.

“8:00”

“What time is your final?” grumbled Technoblade, still half-asleep with no intention to get up until his final later that day.

“8:20” they whined, almost breaking down. 

“Hey, it’s fine, go get clothes from my room, take anything you want. I’ll drive you.” said Technoblade in a calming voice.

Y/N looked at him with desperate eyes and thanked him before retracing the familiar path to his bedroom.

Technoblade cracked his back and followed Wilbur into the kitchen, intending to make Y/N a nutritious breakfast and pack them a lunch, but was met with Wilburs smirking face.

“What’s the deal?” said Technoblade in his monotonous low, pulling things from out of the fridge.

“Are we going to ignore that you and Y/N slept together?”

“Gross you perv, we just fell asleep studying”

Wilburs smart-ass response was cut off by the arrival of the person in question, clad in one of Technoblades sweaters and sweatpants and ripping their fingers through their hair to attempt to tame it.

Technoblade ignored the all-too-familiar flutter of his heart at seeing them in his clothes and handed them a yogurt bowl he put together. “Let’s go, you can eat it in the car.”

They definitely broke laws driving at breakneck speed, but they pulled into the school parking lot at 8:15 and jumped out of the car, Technoblade following them to make sure they made it to the Chemistry classroom on time. With a minute and a half to spare, they arrived at the door to the classroom, earning a sigh of relief from both of them. 

Dr. Yachtrong ushered Y/N into the classroom, but not before Technoblade placed a kiss on their forehead and wished them good luck. They entered the classroom in a daze, which they quickly shook off when the tests were passed out.

---

The final bell rang for the day and the cheers rang around the school, drowning out the crunchy loudspeaker announcements to “have a good Christmas” and to “make good decisions”. Y/N had headed off to their last few classes following the Chemistry final, which had gone as good as one could expect a Chemistry exam to go. They were fairly sure they had passed which at this point, was a major win. As they left the History hallway, they saw their friend Karl leaving the art classroom. 

“Karl!” they waved him down.

“HEY! Y/N!!!” he giggled excitedly “Schools out!”

“I know!”

Excited chatter filled the hallways and they bumped into Sapnap, Punz, and Dream leaving the weights room. 

“How was your weightlifting final?” snickered Y/N

Punz answered with a slight push to their head. The group was shot out at the front courtyard, where almost all of their other friends were waiting.

The celebratory mood was punctuated by Karl inviting everyone over for an “Epic School Sucks Party” at his house later that night.

Y/N looked around, searching for the pink-haired man that had been flooding their thoughts more than usual lately.

He had been acting differently, nervous even, since the day they fell asleep on him at the park. Y/N was only scared last night's incident would make it worse.

“He’s probably finishing up his Latin stuff” murmured Wilbur, leaning down to their ear.

Y/N’s ears burnt a bright red upon knowing that Wilbur knew who they were looking for. They looked up to answer, but he had already gotten immersed in a conversation with Quackity and George. 

The man in question came out of the front doors of the building and made a beeline for their cluster of people upon seeing them. Y/N couldn’t help but admire the cuffs he wore on his slightly pointed ears, and the way his long pink hair fell behind his-

“Oi Y/N is that Technoblades sweater?”

Screw you Minx

“Y/N spent a surprise night over last night” snickered Wilbur, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It's. Not. Like. That.” screeched Y/N, punctuating each word with a smack to Wilbur, somewhat drowned in the laughs and gasps of everyone in their group.

“Why are we hitting Wilbur and can I join?” asked Technoblade once he integrated himself into the tangle of people. The laughs hushed as everyone turned to look between Y/N and Technoblade.

“What?”

-----

The heat of Niki’s curling iron sent warm shivers down Y/N’s neck, a grateful contrast to the harsh December chill plaguing the outdoors. She blew gently on the warm hair before letting it all fall back, tousling it to break up the curls.

“Thanks Niki!” said Y/N gratefully, examining themselves in the mirror. “You’re going to have to teach me how to do this someday.”

Niki laughed, already standing in front of the bathroom mirror to apply her eyeliner. With one eye closed, she spoke to the person now standing behind her, checking their outfit from different angles. 

“So really, what’s going on between you and Technoblade?”

She knew of their intense crush on the pink-haired boy, which had started somewhere between 8th grade and freshman year, but she also knew that Y/N tended to be more closed off about their deep personal life.

Y/N sighed, almost in disappointment. “Nothing. And that’s the problem.”

Due to Niki’s sympathetic look thrown their way, they fell down a rabbit hole of ranting which led them to where they were now; on the floor beside Niki’s bed with Y/N’s head in her lap.

“He always acts so weird around me. One minute he’s  holding my hand or kissing my forehead, and the next he won't even look at me, or only answers in short sentences. And it stresses me out because I think he hates me, but then he does shit like buying me books just to go read in a forest with him, or staying up all night with me to study for my Chemistry final, and I just-” They took a deep breath, containing their rambling.

“I just get more confused.”

----------

 Karls party was in full swing by the time Niki and Y/N got there. They were met at the door by Sapnap and Quackity, who for some reason were handcuffed to each other, and were both giggling and flushed. Y/N and Niki hung their coats on the rack by the door and walked into the festive atmosphere of the house, seeing familiar faces in every corner.

Despite the rowdy environment and the deafening noise, the party was relatively small, consisting of only 20 or so of Karls friends.

They followed Quackity and Sapnap into the living room where a semi-circle of people was lounging on various couches, passing around a blunt and playing what seemed to be truth or dare.

Ah. That’s where the handcuffs came from.

Niki and Y/N decided to play, Niki offering to go fetch them both drinks in the kitchen as Y/N found their place in the circle. To their surprise, Technoblade was there, seemingly uninterested in the game and more invested in something he was doing on his phone. Upon seeing Y/N, he gave them a smile, cheeks flushed with alcohol, and gestured to the small spot between him and the couch armrest. All eyes followed Y/N as they perched on the armrest, mumbling a small ‘hi!’ to Technoblade.

Niki returned with two drinks in hand and shared a knowing glance with Y/N, as well as a miniscule smile, before handing them their drink and taking a seat on a cushion next to Jack and Minx.

“Okay okay, In honor of our new guests arriving, Y/N, truth or dare?” 

Y/N knew by the looks everyone was giving them that choosing truth would not be the best option.

“Dare.”

A small sigh of disappointment left Karls lips before a mischievous light came into his eyes and he perked up again. “I dare you to sit in Technoblade’s lap”

Snickers echoed across the group as Technoblade looked up at the sound of his name. He looked up to where Y/N was balancing themself on the edge of the couch, and with some burst of courage, that was probably induced by the alcohol, he wrapped his arm around their waist to tug them into his lap with a squeak of surprise.

After recovering from their initial embarrassment, Y/N turned to the man whose lap they were in. “Techno, truth or dare?”

He huffed but quietly breathed out “Truth”, suddenly very aware of how close their face was to his. After a few brief seconds of eye contact which seemed to last an eternity, they stuttered out

“Umm, do you,- actually, how did, how did they get you to play? This game... I mean?”

“BOO! WHAT A BORING FOOKIN QUESTION!” called Minx from the cushion she was on.

His response of how he didn’t mean to get dragged in to this “stupid middle schoolers game” was slightly slurred as he took a big chug of whatever liquid was floating around his red solo cup.

This worried Y/N. They never saw Technoblade drink more than enough to get him slightly tipsy, but they brushed it off on end-of-the-semester excitement. In any case, they would confront him when they got the opportunity to talk to him alone.

---

Said opportunity arose after the Pizza arrived, and most people began to file into Karls movie room to watch whatever garbage show he decided on running. Y/N stayed back, intending to have full access to the pizza and Technoblade, noticing this, stayed with them. Y/N hopped up onto a counter and pulled the pizza boxes to them.

“Hey Tech?”

“Heh?”

“Are you okay? I haven't seen you drink this much before?” they asked, running a concerned hand through his hair before pressing it to his forehead to check how hot he was.

His eyes closed and he nuzzled into their touch.

“I guess I’m just nervous.”

“Nervous? What do you have to be nervous about? It’s winter break” they answered, a small smile on their beautiful face.

This was his chance.

“I have to start applying for colleges.”

Fuck, he missed it.

-----

The food brought a new bought of energy to everyone at the party, and by 3 in the morning, the celebration was still heavy in the air. Everyone thanked whatever brought Karl’s parents to buy a house far removed from any close neighborhoods, so the noise wouldn’t earn them a police visit.

Loud music blared from the speakers in the living room, which had been cleared of furniture to make space for the energetic teenagers.

Y/N took turns dancing with Niki, Minx, and Jack before being stolen away by Sapnap who spun them around until they almost threw up. Eventually, Y/N ended up on the outskirts of the dancefloor, where they saw their favorite apathetic pig-boy leaning against a corner, snickering at everyone who was embarrassing themselves in their drunken haze. 

“WANNA DANCE?” asked Y/N leaning towards him to enunciate over the music.

How could he say no? When they were looking up at him with those big, bright eyes and a slight sheen of sweat over their face.

-----

The party began to dissipate nearing the hours of dawn. Around 5, people began trickling out. Except for the select few who had decided to just crash with Karl.

Technoblade and Wilbur parked a little ways away from their house, walking the rest of the way and ushering each other up the tree by Wilburs bedroom to sneak back in. 

It was locked.

“You dimwit, didn’t you unlock the window?”

“Of course I did you arse, where do you think I snuck out from?”

Their bickering was interrupted by a small tap on the glass by none other than a smirking Tommy. 

“Leave it to him to only wake up when he wants to annoy us”

“Tommy, let us in.”

Tommy made a rubbing motion with his index finger and thumb. Looking at Wilbur and sighing, Technoblade pulled his wallet out and held up a 10. 

Tommy made a ‘more’ motion

20. Then 40. Then 50.

“So generous of you lads, come on in!” he giggled, snatching the money from his brother and leaving the window open for the two to clamber in awkwardly.

Technoblade snuck back into his room, stripping off his sweaty clothes and falling onto the mattress. Before he blacked out, he saw two notifications come in.

BitchBur: I took these pictures tn, thought u might want them ;) (8 images attached)

And

Y/N <3: I hope you figure out the college situation! <3 let me know if you can hang out sometime :D

He opened Wilburs text to find a collection of candid pictures Wilbur had snapped over the course of the night. One of Y/N in his lap, a few of them laughing together over pizza, a few of them on the dance floor, and what had to be his favorite: a picture of them kissing his cheek as a ‘good luck’ for his arm wrestle with Dream.

A smile creeped onto his face and he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for his brother. He set the last picture as his wallpaper before turning off his phone and falling into a realm of blackness.

SPRING------------------

“That was my very last AP Exam!” exclaimed Y/N, walking through the door of the coffee house where all their friends were lounging. 

The small shop erupted with cheers as they celebrated everyone finishing their school year. The cheers eventually died out, though, as the realization sunk in. Tomorrow was graduation.

The seniors in the group, Wilbur, Technoblade, Minx and Fundy were all going off to college. 

Wilbur to England, Fundy to the Netherlands, and Minx to Ireland. The one person who hadn’t decided on a college yet was Technoblade.

“Why do you all have to leave the country?” whined Y/N.

A chorus of similar sentiments left the other juniors who were scattered around a few tables that had been pushed together. 

As the conversation descended into dorms and expenses, Y/N received a text from Technoblade. The shock of the ‘ding’ made the pen that had been balancing between their lips clatter onto the floor.

Apathetic pig-boy: come outside

Y/N looked around, not having noticed that Technoblade had disappeared from the table. Taking advantage of the conversation everyone else was immersed in, they quietly snuck out, but not without avoiding Wilburs keen eyes, which narrowed upon realizing his brother was not at the table.

They wandered outside, finding Technoblade sitting at one of the outdoor tables covered by the awning. 

“My Yale email came in.” he said as soon as he saw them walk outside.

They jumped with barely contained joy. “What did it say?”

“I wanted you to be here when I opened it.”

Everyone knew that Technoblades dream college was Yale. He had talked about it ever since he was a little kid, screaming about Greek mythology on the school playground. Y/N knew that it was Technoblades biggest ambition to study literature at one of the most renowned colleges in the world, but they still felt a twinge of sadness. On top of losing half their friends, they couldn’t lose the one person that meant the most to them too.

“Open it!”

Y/N leaned against the back of Technoblades chair, almost falling over his shoulder as they watched the loading icon on the college’s website.

Technoblade clicked on the notification and they both read it together

Congratulations! We are glad to inform you…

“THAT YALE UNIVERSITY HAS DECIDED TO ACCEPT YOUR APPLICATION! TECH I'M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Screamed Y/N, wrapping their arms around his shocked figure. They placed a million kisses all over his face, gushing about how proud they were of him, ignoring the gut wrenching feeling inside of them.  

“What’s the screaming about? Did you two finally get together?” Asked Wilbur as the group flooded out of the coffee shop to see what the commotion was about. 

“Yale accepted me.” mumbled Technoblade, just loud enough for them to hear.

The cheers that followed his announcement almost made their small hometown collapse. Congratulations were exchanged and backs were pat, and in the mess, Y/N managed to sneak off to the side. The only person who noticed was Niki, who followed them to the corner of the parking lot where they were kicking at the asphalt with their converse. She sat down, and the two rested in silence, the April wind blowing their hair all over the place.

“He’s leaving.” He’s leaving me. They wanted to say, but they didn't.

Niki gave her friend a small side hug, somehow interpreting the sentence accurately. “He’s pursuing his dreams Y/N, you know he doesn’t want to leave you.”

“How do I make him stay? It’s selfish and I’d feel like a bitch but Niki I don’t think I can live without him.”

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?”

“You need to tell him how you feel.”

----

The next day brought sunny skies and the enthusiastic atmosphere of graduation. They had all managed to snag themselves some graduation tickets to see their friends finish high school.

Jack, Niki, and Y/N were sitting in a Wendy’s parking lot, waiting for the clock to hit 11:45 so they could start making their way to school. It seemed empty without the Seniors of the group, as they were all at school getting ready for the ceremony. Y/N voiced this concern aloud, to which Jack responded, “We’ll have to get used to it. This is how it’s going to be next year.”

And the three fell into silence, sullenly dipping their fries into their frostys.

----

Jack, Niki, and Y/N let themselves be jostled into school with the crowds of emotional parents and kids who were already bored of the event. They found decent seats, near the front aisle and set their belongings down. 

Not a moment later, they were greeted by Philza, who filed in with the rest of the boys extended family to sit beside them. 

The dimming of the lights led to hushed whispers erupting from the previously rowdy crowd. 

Procedure came and went, the salutatorian and valedictorian giving their respective addresses to the crowd, the speech of the somewhat bored principal, and finally, 

“Without further ado, presenting the Graduating Class of 2021!” 

Cheers erupted from the crowd as names began to be called. 

Within the first five minutes, the boredom began to set in and Jack began a game pigeon game, which Phil demanded to be added to. The four played the digital card game until they were pulled out of their concentration by a familiar name being called. They erupted into cheers as Fundy walked across the stage to pick up his diploma and shake the Principal’s hand. The process was repeated until Minx, her eyes shining as she shook the principal's hand earnestly, then flipped him off quickly behind his back, which sent the auditorium into a fit of laughter.

Person after person was called up, until...

“Technoblade Minecraft”

Philza almost cried. He stood on his chair, screaming in excitement for his son which made the boy in question flush as he collected his diploma and took a rather rushed leave off the stage, but not before seeing the heart that Y/N made with their fingers in his direction.

The same general act happened  during Wilburs announcement, except that he laughed and gave his dad a cheering motion with his hands.

---

The group spilled out onto the lawn of the school, congratulating people they knew when they saw them. Technoblade and Wilbur joined their family, receiving hugs from a very emotional Tommy. Y/N, Niki, and Jack waited behind for their friends to finish up with their families before tackling them in hugs. Screams and whoops came from the puddle of people on the floor, everyone yelling things to each other. The atmosphere was charged with happiness, and relief, and one couldn’t help but feel elation despite the bittersweet nature of graduation.

“Alright mates, party at my house!” boomed Philza over the noise.

The infamous graduation party. They had planned the two-part party in middle school, when they had had their first sleepover at the group's “hub”, aka Philza’s house. Since then, the party had become a reality and the first part would be executed tonight. The next being, of course, when the remaining half of the group graduated.

A marquis was set up in Phil’s garden, now uncluttered and full of spring blossoms. It was such a different atmosphere than it had been last summer, when their bonfires would stretch out into the early hours of the morning.

Food laden tables were scattered around the marquis, and to everyone's delight, a chocolate fountain rested on one of them.

After collecting food and gifts from various guests, the group found themselves sitting under the shade of a large tree with a rickety old treehouse balancing on it, which Tommy and Tubbo were attempting to devise a plan to get into with the help of their friend Ranboo, who didn’t seem as enthusiastic about the idea as the others.

“My flight leaves next week.” sighed Minx, leaning against Niki’s shoulder.

“I’ll be out of here by July the latest” 

“Phil’s taking us to London next week and I’ll just be staying”

Everyone turned to Technoblade to reveal when he would be leaving for college. 

“I’m going to Connecticut a week before the beginning of the term”

“So how long will you be home this summer?” Y/N asked, setting down their cookie.

“Between travelling and dorm set-up, I’ll probably only be here for about two weeks total.”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears as they pushed their head into Technoblades chest. 

“I just-” sniffle “I just can’t believe you’re all leaving!” they cried, muffled by Technoblades button down.

This sent everyone into a fit of tears as they all began hugging each other for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.

The moment was interrupted by Phil, who came out of the house with a camera and various props. Encouraging everyone to gather around and take pictures. Everyone scuffled around to fix their disheveled appearances and began making their way to Phils makeshift photo booth.

“Tech- wait!” called Y/N, pulling him back by the forearm. “Your hair”

They put pressure on his shoulders to get him to lean down so that they could fix his stray hairs. 

Right then, looking at the way Y/N’s shoes sank into the ground and feeling their light touch in his hair, he decided. I have to tell them. This is my last chance.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hmm?”

“I-” deep breaths, “I need you to-”

“Come on, lovebirds get in the picture!” called Phil, walking over to drag them to where everyone else was. 

Y/N gave him an apologetic look, woven with the silent promise of later.

Damnit Dad.

----

The pictures had lasted what felt like eons, but between the corny props and the harsh afternoon sunlight, they held valuable memories.

But Technoblade had no interest in them at the moment, as he dragged Y/N behind the trunk of the tree they had sat at before.

The sunlight filtering through the leaves made Y/N’s face all that much more beautiful, and Technoblade struggled to tear his attention away to focus on telling them. He gathered up his courage and opened his mouth to speak.

But the only thing that came out was “OW!”

As a pinecone bonked off his head and rolled away on the ground, leaving chips of it in his hair. 

“Look out below!” Called Tubbo from somewhere above them. So they managed to get in. Damnit.

Y/N took his hand and led him to the other side of the tree, away from the boys’ field of destruction. They sat down gently, pulling Technoblade down with them to pluck the pieces of pinecone out of his hair.

“Here. Distraction free! Now tell me what you’ve been trying to say because there’s something I need to tell you too.”

That gave Technoblade the perfect opportunity to gather his nerves. “You go first”

“No, it’s fine you!”

“No you go!”

It seemed as if the stars had collided and sent out particles so many eons ago with the knowledge that everything would lead up to these two kids coming to the same conclusion at the same time. 

“I love you”

“I love you”

Their eyes met as they stared, wide-eyed and gaping-mouthed at each other. Overcoming the initial shock, they began to ramble.

“I didn’t think you felt the same way because you always got quiet around me and then you woul-”

“Can I kiss you?” Technoblade interrupted them, not really hearing their rambling through the buzz going through his brain.

They nodded shyly in response as he wrapped his hand around the back of their neck to pull them dizzyingly, tauntingly closer. He looked into their eyes one more time to make sure they were serious, but Y/N was already closing the gap between their lips. They hoisted themselves into his lap and gripped his hair to bring him impossibly closer.

But alas, in this group of people, nothing goes unnoticed or undisturbed.

“EW! TECHNO’S KISSING Y/N!” screamed Tommy from the balcony of the treehouse which resulted in whoops and cheers from everyone at the party.

“FINALLY!” yelled someone amongst the crowd. 

Y/N felt their ears burn a bright red as they buried their face into Techno’s neck.

“Yeah Y/N! Get some!”

“Oh fuck off!”

A/N: i hope u guys liked it :D, also this is my first time writing with they/them pronouns so if i made a mistake pls don’t hesitate to correct me!

[ev-pierce-writes]

Quantum Entanglement

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Words: 6.4k (oops)

Rating: 18+ (get outta here ya children)

Summary: Steve Rogers decides to disappear, take some time for himself in the solitude of a small town where he meets you.

Warnings: p in v. oral fem receiving. size kink (reader is much smaller than Steve in more ways than one). soft (very very soft) fem dom.

AN: This is stupid soft. Just simping all over the gd place. I'm so sorry but my baby Steve deserves nothing but the purest, sweetest form of love and that's what he's getting, though I imagine he likes to be ordered around. Took me way too long to feel good about this.

---

There had been the snap. And then the resurrection. Steve had lost everyone he loved and then had most of them returned, and it felt good to go back to normal, in some ways. In other ways, it was stifling.

As the world reeled and tried to figure out how to "be normal" in a time that was anything but, normalcy felt forced, rushed, exaggerated. He wanted to be in this world, of course. The 1940s were no longer his home, and Steve had everything he wanted here. But he didn't feel complete. A piece was always missing, something from a past life, that he couldn't quite name but knew he had to find.

So he disappeared. Went undercover as some might call it. Bucky knew, of course, and Sam on some level. But to the rest of the world, he had slipped quietly back into the past to live the rest of his life. In reality, he'd slipped into Herrington, Massachusetts, a small coastal town where he was invisible to the world.

He'd found a little house, a cottage on the beach, and settled in completely. He didn't need a job, the government was more than willing to pay him a severance check of some sort, but he took one anyway, stocking the local grocery store and delivering groceries to the elderly when they ordered. It was just antiquated enough to remind him of a faraway time, of the past, but didn't force him to give up his wifi and color television. That was something he'd come to love.

And that was where he met you. You, the petite spitfire with a bone to pick with the entire world. Fierce, loyal, and slightly terrifying when double-crossed. The first time he met you, you had come out of your great-aunt's house shaking a fist over the groceries.

"I told Mr. Pierce," you were yelling, "not to skimp me on the meat." Mr. Pierce was the grocery store owner. And the meat in question was a roast, for what purpose, Steve wasn't sure, but one that apparently did not satisfy your desires.

You hadn't been the one to answer the door, that was your great-aunt Agnes, a kind, leather-faced woman who liked to tip Steve a healthy amount for "carrying all those heavy groceries for a silly old lady like me."

"It's no problem ma'am," he'd replied and stepped back toward his motorcycle, recently decked out with a basket on the back to transport deliveries. Then you'd chased him down the road until he noticed you and stopped, shouting all the way.

"When you see him," you said, your finger wagging in his face, puffing and out of breath from your yelling and running, "tell the bastard that's the last time he gets away with making me pay for his shitty cuts of meat."

Steve didn't really know what to say, but then your face softened, your voice calmed, and you took a deep breath. Maybe the panicked look on his face had made you have a change of heart. "I apologize for yelling at you, I know you're just the messenger. But that slimy son-of-a-bitch is going to get what's coming for him someday."

"I'll let him know," Steve replied with half a smile on his face.

"You aren't from around here are you?" you had asked, a sudden look of curiosity in your bright eyes.

Steve nodded. "Just moved here."

"Look, I'm really sorry." You stuck out your hand and introduced yourself, and Steve had found that hand to be surprisingly supple and calloused for its tiny size. "Let me make it up to you. Aunt Agnes seems to like you. We're having a potluck tonight, her place. Why don't you come by and meet the neighbors? I'm sure they'd love a new face, especially one as handsome and friendly as yours. Maybe make some friends, even."

You were being surprisingly friendly and sincere, and Steve had no choice but to accept the invitation.

So that's how he ended up in an old lady's backyard, handing off a bowl of his mother's jello salad (it was a potluck after all), and accepting a beer from a man who looked similar enough to be your brother (a cousin, it turned out). You didn't even notice his arrival, flying about, getting everything set up, taking part in the appropriate amount of small talk. Earlier, when you'd chased Steve down the road, your hair had been flung all about your head, wisps of it sticking out from all directions and looking positively a mess. You'd been wearing jeans with mud on the knees and a t-shirt that had more holes than necessary for your arms and head. Now, your hair was pinned back and tamed and you floated about in a soft blue sundress, revealing a delicate plane of skin across your shoulders and tan arms and legs.

The calloused hands and muddy jeans made sense now as well. The backyard of Aunt Agnes' house was primarily a garden, not only beautiful rose bushes and creeping wisteria but rows and rows of fruits and vegetables, cucumbers, tomatoes, watermelon, strawberries. The work was obviously the product of a talented gardener.

Aunt Agnes was the one to welcome him in, having noticed Steve before you did and taking his arm. She began to talk, of you and the neighborhood and her many, many family members. She introduced them one by one, though most of the names he immediately forgot. But it was a blessing to not be recognized and he relished the feeling. Sure, he'd grown out his beard and his hair was a bit longer than the standard military high and tight, and he wore a flannel with the sleeves rolled up instead of red, white, and blue spangles, but it still amazed him that he could pass through the world like this.

Eventually, the conversations became too much, and Steve excused himself to the kitchen to find a drink while he waited for the food to be ready. Really he just wanted some silence, a relief from society. But you'd beat him there, and, ever the busy bee, were scrambling to fill a cooler with more ice.

"Steve!" you exclaimed when you saw him, pleasant surprise plastered across your face. "I'm so glad you came."

You reached out and gave him a hug that took Steve so much by surprise he almost forgot to return it. It was shockingly warm, your arms around his neck, and though he had to stoop down to your level, he wrapped his arms around your waist anyways.

"I hope they didn't overwhelm you out there. My family can be a lot."

"No, not at all. Just needed some quiet. I'll let you get back to work."

"I could actually use your help if you don't mind."

You directed him into the front room toward a stack of boxes, cases of drinks he assumed. When Steve returned to the kitchen, all four boxes piled in his arms, you nearly dropped the glasses in your hands in shock. You recovered quickly, trying to remain polite despite your poorly hidden astonishment, but Steve could already tell you were trying to compute how he had managed to carry over a hundred pounds of drinks in one go.

"You can, um, put them on the counter I guess," you managed to stutter out. Your sudden flustered state was amusing, and Steve noticed he liked the way you seemed almost embarrassed, cheeks flushed pink, though he had no idea why you should feel that way.

But then you picked back up with your normal bubbly chatter, and Steve found himself lingering longer and longer in the kitchen with you until he realized neither of you were doing anything but talking, the work abandoned in lieu of discussions about the town, your stall at the farmers market, and eventually, very naturally, the passing of your parents. The slip into deep conversation was easy, surprisingly easy, easier than it had ever been with anyone else, even though Steve felt himself having to lie a bit about his past. Sure, he could admit to being from Brooklyn and having no family and his stint in the military, but that was about the extent of it. He found himself wanting to tell you more but refraining.

When your cousin called that food was ready from the backyard, the jolt back to reality was abrupt and almost unwelcome, until you smiled and allowed him to put a hand on your back, pulling Steve out to enjoy some food.

As night fell, lights twinkled on in the backyard, and the summer heat reduced to a light thrum as the breeze from the ocean swept through the town. Fireflies glowed in the darkness of the low trees behind the house and you seemed to glow as well, good food and friendly conversation lighting your face up with joy. You caught Steve's eye several times during the night, noticing him watching you from across the garden, but he didn't care. He liked that his attention made you smile.

Finally, the party began to dwindle, as parents with young kids trickled out, followed by the older folks, heading off to bed. Soon, even Aunt Agnes turned in and only the cousins close to you in age remained. They pulled out the stronger bottles of alcohol, sitting in plastic chairs and passing shots around the barbeque that still glowed hot with coals. Steve accepted every pass of vodka that came his way, despite knowing it wouldn't get him even remotely drunk. But the camaraderie of the moment helped ease a bit of that gaping hole in his soul so he clung to it as best he could. And you were sitting next to him, insisting he take a sip, and again he couldn't turn you down.

"And then Jack nearly sunk the boat in the bay," you were saying, telling the story of one of your cousin's finer moments. "Your dad almost killed us."

"Oh you want to bring that up?" he teased. "How about the time you snuck out and Aunt Agnes caught you making out with Michael on the beach."

You blushed bright red at the reminder but protested that was years ago. Then another cousin brought up his own late-night escapades and you devolved into a fit of giggles, leaning so far out of your chair that Steve had to catch you before you slipped right to the ground. Your hand gripped his to recover but, to his surprise, you never removed it, even as you righted yourself in your seat. Your hand just remained in his, your small fingers wrapped in his large ones, as you turned to pester him into telling a story.

"What about you Steve? Tell us an embarrassing story."

He looked around at the group and they leaned in expectantly, curious to know more about the stranger who was quickly becoming a friend. Steve didn't know what to say, most of his stories involving things he wasn't yet ready to reveal about himself. So he picked one from long ago.

"I once picked a fight with a guy at a bar. He was a bit of a Nazi. Got my ass kicked. Fortunately, I had a friend to back me up or he definitely would have killed me."

Everyone looked shocked. "But you're so strong," someone spoke up. "Look at you. How could anyone beat you in a fight?"

Steve shrugged, not wanting to admit to it being a pre-serum story. "Guess I'm a bit of a pacifist."

He turned to you to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were wide, sparkling with mischief and curiosity and a hint of disbelief. For a moment Steve thought you had figured it out, figured out who he was, but then you started giggling again and the only thing keeping you in your seat was his hand in yours.

"That's not embarrassing Steve, that's just the most fucking noble thing I've ever heard. Making us all look bad."

Your teasing words made his heart flutter in his chest and he felt like he could get used to this crowd.

Eventually, the coals of the barbeque started to wink out, and the cousins excused themselves for the night, heading home on foot to the various houses they had come from. It seemed no one lived too far apart in this town. Suddenly, the backyard was quiet.

"Can I give you a hand cleaning up?" Steve asked, not wanting to leave you with the job that looked a bit overwhelming to him.

You looked around and shrugged, a little tipsy but fully aware that it was a big mess. "I'll probably just take care of it in the morning. Can you just help me get the dishes inside?"

Steve obediently gathered up plates and cups, filling the dishwasher in several trips. Finally, the last were inside and you stood in the kitchen filling the sink to wash the pots and pans while Steve tried awkwardly to find a way to say goodbye.

"Um, thank you," he said at last, "for welcoming me into your community. It means a lot. I'll, uh, see you later I guess. Have a good night."

You stopped your scrubbing to look up at him, bubbles up to your elbows, your face flushed from the warm night air and the alcohol.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

You paused, hesitant, eyes searching his face for confirmation of a mutual feeling. "Do you ever feel like you were meant to meet someone? For a reason?"

The question hit him like a ton of bricks, and he realized that this night had made him feel exactly that way, that somehow he was meant to end up here and meet you, of all people. Why else had there been an instant connection unless this was just the way you were with everyone?

But your question made him think otherwise. You had to be special. Steve, in that moment, could do nothing but nod in affirmation. And then, like you had both had the same thought at the same moment, you were meeting him halfway, rising on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, and kissing him. Really, truly, kissing him.

It was like that missing piece had found itself. You slotted your soul into his and Steve was pressing you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, and lifting you so he didn't have to bend down to reach you. Your wet hands tangled into his slightly too long hair, pulling him impossibly closer, tasting one another's tongues.

And that was the start of it, of late-night motorcycle rides down the causeway, of Saturdays spent on the beach that tapered into drinks with friends, of dinners filled with your chatter and smiles and laughter, and Steve couldn't believe how lucky he was. He was not used to this feeling, of building friendship and companionship and perhaps even love. And he certainly wasn't used to the intense desire to reach out and pinch your ass every time you showed up at his house wearing those gardening jeans, high-waisted and tight and so goddamn cute.

But he never did, was never sure how you'd react. You kissed him, a lot in fact, every morning that he came over and every night that he dropped you off at home. And you never shied away from telling him how handsome he was, how much you liked his hands and his arms and his short beard, how sweet he was and kind and soft and gentle. So many words, words that made his head spin and his world wobble and sway. But it never came to be more than that, never late at night when he was thinking of you most. And oh lord, did he think about you, how your small frame might fit against his in bed while you spooned and slept, or how tight you'd be if he fucked you until the sun rose. He didn't particularly like sleeping in bed, it was too soft for his taste and he tended to take the couch or even the floor most nights, but he would sleep in bed for you if you would just tell him that was what you wanted.

It was like you were waiting for the right moment. And apparently, that moment was July 4th, during the annual celebration. Steve had whispered to you that it was consequently also his birthday, and had begged you to keep that a secret, but it seemed you had simply forgotten the fact entirely. The day passed without mention that Steve was turning 39 (105 if he'd been really counting) and you kissed him as the fireworks exploded over the ocean, sitting in the sand, hands tangled together. He thought the two of you would sit through the show, but then you were standing and pulling him to his feet as well and slipping away as everyone else's faces were turned to the sky.

At your house, you pulled a small cake from the fridge, just big enough to split between two people, and lit a couple of candles as you sat next to him at the kitchen table. Of course, you hadn't forgotten.

"Make a wish," you said with a happy smile. So he did, hoping this summer would never end. "What did you wish for?"

"Can't tell you, otherwise it won't come true," he replied. But then you pouted and he lost all resolve. "How about I show you instead?"

The look on your face said it all, shock mixed with intrigue and the mischief he had noticed that first night almost a week ago. So he reached down and tugged your chair closer, forcing you to face him with your knees between his. And then he leaned over and kissed you, taking your small cheeks in his large palms, putting all the power of his suppressed feelings behind it. He hoped you understood that he wanted more than to just kiss you, he wanted to occupy space inside you, fill you, complete you. Steve could feel your smile against his lips.

You pulled away. "Did you wish that I was dessert instead of the cake?

"I might have. Should we make my wish come true?"

Again you smiled, bright and guiding like a lighthouse torch, and something in your demeanor changed. Instantly, you were relenting to his touch, letting him pull you further into his lap, straddling his waist and settling into him like that was where you were meant to be. The quiet house, probably as old as him in this New England town, creaked in the silence of the night, only occasionally disturbed by the bang of a firework. But it all faded away with you in his arms.

You fit perfectly, just as Steve had hoped.

"You gonna be gentle with me, big man?" you whispered, that same brilliant smile on your face, wiggling as close to him as possible, the fingers of one hand tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck, the others tracing down the point of his sharp nose and pressing against his soft lips. "You gonna fuck me good? Be a good boy?"

Oh, Christ. Steve nearly lost his mind with your hips so tight against his, lost it at your words that made his heart race and color rise to his cheeks. He could be good. Really damn good. You seemed to know something about him that Steve didn't even know about himself, of how much he liked your praise, your commanding tone. If there was anything he was good at, it was taking orders.

"You just keep telling me what to do and I'm all yours," he mumbled against your fingers, the thump of his heart beating in time with yours somewhere deep in your chest, echoes of one another in the silence of the house. Your hand came to grip his chin, pushing another kiss against his mouth, a kiss with lips parted in a sigh, the mingled palate of you and him, like a glass of wine on the beach and chocolate melted on the tongue, sweeping over taste buds and breathed into starved lungs.

"Mm, you taste so good. Like you were created just for me, don't you think?" you asked.

"Built from the best material, just for you." Built to love you, he wanted to say. Steve shut up instead.

You hummed with pleasure and the hand on his chin gripped a little harder, a little more suggestively. He opened his mouth obediently as you slipped your thumb between his lips, and he let you press it against the soft muscle of his tongue. You wanted him to taste you, so he did, his teeth biting gently down on the pad of your finger, another pleasant hum running down your body and straight to his groin.

He waited for your instruction.

"Undress me."

He complied, obediently. Steve's large hands hiked your sundress up around your waist, revealing the softness of your hips. His fingers smoothed up the length of your thighs, kneading at the flesh of your ass that he had so longed to touch. Your reaction was music to his ears, a soft moan leaving your lips and breathed against his, and Steve closed his eyes, arousal spreading through his body at the thought that he was making you react this way. His length hardened, tight in his pants, pressed against the thin layer of fabric that covered the heat of your core. The thought that he might not fit flickered through his mind but it dissipated at the feeling of your fingers pressing into the rough stubble of his jawline.

Steve's hands continued to travel further up your body, taking time to release the zipper of your dress down the length of your spine, and you answered his quiet, "can I?" by pulling slightly away and lifting your arms over your head. The dress landed somewhere in the kitchen and Steve dragged you close again, arms wrapped around your back to encompass you completely, his lips finding purchase against the skin of your neck.

"Look at you, so perfect," Steve mumbled, face pressed into your hair. If he had looked up he would have seen you blush, but he was too preoccupied letting his senses discover every piece of you he could touch, smell, or taste. He wanted to envelop you, inch by inch, roaming and discovering and satiating his curiosity, but you dragged his attention back to your face.

"Hey, eyes up here," you said, pulling his face toward yours and locking gazes. The intensity of your eye contact was stunning, but there was something else behind those eyes, something other than intense attraction and unsatisfied arousal. Was it doubt? Insecurity? The reason why you kissed him for so many nights and never asked for more? You were searching for something, and it came in the form of a question. "You won't leave me after this, right?"

There it was, the bit of insecurity, a fear of loss, of transience, of lacking control. Someone had hurt you before. Maybe that's why you approached everything in life with such ferocity and sincerity. But Steve would never hurt you like that, never let you feel that way again. He hoped you could see it in his eyes the way he felt about you, but words would be more reassurance. "I'm yours tonight. And tomorrow. And the day and week and month and year after that, if you'll have me that long. Whatever it is you need, I'll give it to you."

You blinked and then smiled and pressed another quick kiss to his lips before murmuring, "touch me" against them. So he did, trailing his hands over every sliver of skin before him. He felt the goosebumps rising in their wake, the downy hair on your legs and arms, the heat of your core against him, grinding almost imperceptibly to find some kind of friction, any friction. He wanted to touch you so desperately, but he got the sense that you needed to take the lead, that it would give the control you felt you lacked. So he slid a hand down the plane of your stomach and stopped just shy of dipping into your panties, waiting for your word. But you were no longer interested in playing games. Your hand found his and pulled him lower, using his fingers to press into the seem of your cunt, and he found you slick and warm with desire.

You urged him forward. "Rub my clit, baby. Slowly. Gently."

Slowly and gently. That he could do. His fingers crept absentmindedly closer to the swollen bundle of nerves and when he landed there, touch soft and circling, you jerked against him, your whole body moving with the force of anticipation and a cry leaving your lips. And though it seemed to burn, seemed to be torture for yourself, you demanded he do it again. Your forehead leaned against his, eyes shut tight, and Steve watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he flicked and circled again and again and again.

"Yes, baby. Perfect. So good. So. Fucking. Good."

Every bit of you was soft, from your neck where he placed his kisses to the curled hair hiding the swollen bud of your clit where his fingers played gently and rhythmically. Even the orgasm that gushed from your smooth cunt and stuttered from your lips was soft. You came with a choked cry as your hand pulled him closer by the back of his head, your tits pressed to his chest. Steve looked up to watch you devolve into pleasure, eyes squeezed tightly shut, your hair messy and swirling about your face, the straps of your bra slipping from your shoulder.

"Bed. Now. Right now," you demanded before you even had a chance to come down from your high. He would have been just as happy to have you in the kitchen, just like that, but Steve picked you up, with you latched to his chest like a koala, and carried you upstairs. You felt feather-light in his arms, easily tossed onto the mattress, your hands reaching out to pull his white t-shirt overhead and grab at the plane of his chest. Even as Steve kissed you again you couldn't stop tracing your fingertips over the lines of his torso, the ridges of his abs, the v-line that led tantalizingly toward the waistband of his pants. He felt his cock twitch and strain against the fabric of his boxers, the rough cotton not enough to stimulate him but enough to make him ache for your pussy. Your fluttering hands were not helping and Steve pictured your thin fingers wrapping around his length.

"Look at you," you said. "You're fucking perfect." It was Steve's turn to blush.

Steve wasn't...inexperienced. But it had been a while, to say the least, since he'd had the time or energy or capacity to even feel attracted to anyone. And even longer, perhaps never, since he felt the way he felt about you, like a bee to a flower, drunk on sweet nectar and high on honey. That was you, the delicate flower, so small and tender beneath him, yet as stunning and resonating and thunderous as the fireworks bursting somewhere overhead.

Fighting to survive was all Steve had known for so long, standing up to the bully and helping the fallen to their feet, that it was a relief to not have to be that man for you. You didn't require protection or help or anything from him at all, and yet you welcomed his presence endlessly. Steve realized he was not a need for you, but a want, and for the first time he felt valued for something real, something that wasn't just his brute strength, but something almost bordering on love. This he understood as he stared at your sweet face, caging you beneath him in bed.

"Earth to Steve," you said softly as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his pelvis down toward yours and dragging a deep groan from his lungs. He hadn't noticed he'd stopped kissing you and was getting lost in drinking you in amidst his reverie until your small hand pressed to the back of his neck and gently guided him back to your lips. But you stopped just shy, your eyebrows knitted in concern, taking his leisurely manner for uncertainty. "We can stop if you want."

"No, definitely not."

"Good. Then stop staring and kiss me."

"Where?" he teased.

"Everywhere, big man."

Everywhere was doable. So he started at your lips with one so big and breathless it rivaled Mount Everest. For a moment he let himself forget about everything except how long he could go without oxygen against your lips. But there remained more of you to taste.

Steve's lips connected with your chin and slid down your jawline, taking time to kiss the pulse of your neck and the dip of your clavicle. The fan of his breath tickled across your skin and you giggled, the purest sound of joy bubbling from your lips at his touch. More of that he wanted. So he continued down to the valley between your breasts, full and round despite your stature, removing your bra as he did so, nibbling lightly at the peaks of your chest before replacing his teeth with his pinching fingers and moving lower again. Lower toward the edge of your ribs, arched upward to meet the movement of his mouth, toward the slope of your hips, his sharp nose following each kiss as your underwear joined your bra into the abyss.

Your thighs he kissed, top to bottom, left and right, but it was your ass he couldn't get enough of, filling his grip with handfuls of your flesh, using it to pull you toward the edge of the bed where he kneeled, lifting your hips toward his face, your legs slung one over each shoulder. Steve sunk his tongue into your folds without warning and you gasped, your thighs suddenly squeezing tight around his head.

"Yes, right there," you hissed between ragged breaths.

He responded by burying deeper, gripping you harder, and moaning with delight at your overwhelming taste and scent bombarding his senses. You squirmed but didn't pull away as Steve's hands worked their way back up your stomach to cup the tissue of your breasts, the width of his palms capturing the flesh in one big handful. Your hands covered his, holding them there, forcing him to press you into the bed while his mouth left you twitching and bucking beneath his touch.

And in spite of the urgency with which Steve wished to devour you, he continued on leisurely, doing his best to build you up slowly and gently pick you apart bit by bit the way you had asked him to do it before. Your body betrayed its delight, evidenced enough by the way your legs hooked around him and held him down, but you praised him anyways, rapture falling from your lips between sporadic moans of pleasure.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so good, oh God yes, baby, you're doing so good, taste me like that," you cried, and the words spurred him onward, hurried his movements just slightly, his tongue circling your clit, fingers circling your areolas. He would do whatever you asked, jump off a cliff, take a bullet to the chest, drown himself in a river, if only to please you. But you would never ask anything of him that he couldn't give, and Steve knew the moment you asked for his heart it would be his heart you'd receive. And with that intent in his mind, he made you come undone with a silent cry.

Eventually, the trembling ceased, even as he continued to drink your release with the ministrations of his tongue.

"Oh fuck, you like the way I taste baby?" you asked. His affirmation came out muffled and sloppy between your legs. Even you were breathless, barely getting out the words, but you pushed him nonetheless. "I wanna hear you say it, Steve. You like eating me out? Like drinking my juices?"

"Fuck, yes, you taste like goddamn heaven, darling."

"Kiss me, Steve."

"Yes, ma'am."

He complied without a second thought, crawling back up your body to lean over you, giving you a taste of the heaven he had just dipped into. When your fingers found his belt, he helped you remove the rest of his clothes. And then your hands were roving down his chest again, searching blindly until they found what they were looking for. Steve groaned at your touch on his swollen cock.

You gasped. "Oh, God."

Before Steve could respond you pushed him over onto his back and straddled his thighs, eyeing the length on display before you, fingers around it as if testing the girth and finding them unable to wrap all the way around.

"Oh God," you repeated. A short laugh bubbled up from your throat, the controlling front you'd managed to maintain this whole time slipping from your tone.

"Something wrong?" he asked, feeling slightly inadequate under your scrutiny. Steve sat up to meet your eyes, hands finding their place on your hips.

You gazed at him, eyes wide and glassy. "You're gonna split me in half with that thing."

"We don't have to. Not if you aren't comfortable."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna get real comfortable sitting on your cock." Your sultry grin was back and you rose up on your knees to look down at him. Your other hand swiped between your legs, two fingers gathering the warm, wet juices of your orgasm, before joining the first around his cock. You pumped, rolling a drop of precum off the tip with your thumb and rubbing it down his length, mixing the release of your pleasure with his. Steve barely held back from bucking his hips into your hand. He would save that for your pussy.

"I want you to fill me," you whispered. "I wanna be so fucking full. Just go slowly, okay?"

"Slowly. I got you, baby girl. You can take me. Let me fill you."

Steve lifted your hips and guided you forward, aligning your entrance with his length. You moved at a crawling pace, letting gravity sink your pussy around him, pausing every inch to adjust to his intrusion. His biceps stung with the grip of your fingernails in his skin, but it was a welcome distraction from the rush of pleasure threatening to tip him over the edge prematurely. Agonizingly you dipped further, a cry falling from your lips, until you were fully seated, the tip of him pressed into the cavity behind your cervix. You were warm, so, so warm, and soft and tight and you fit perfectly, just like he knew you would.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so big."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, wiping away a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

"No, fuck, no, you feel so good. I just--I can't move."

"I got you, darling," Steve whispered, his face falling to your chest and burying it in the soft flesh of your tits. And then he wrapped his arms around your waist and did all the moving for you, lifting you up and sinking you down again, just fast enough to make you gasp for air and whine his name. With every thrust, you cried out in pleasure.

"Don't stop, Steve, please, baby, don't stop."

The fingers of one hand tugged at his hair dampened by sweat, nails scratching lightly across his scalp, as the other fell between your legs. You pressed your fingers around your clit and along your entrance, feeling where Steve's thick cock was pushing in and out of your tight pussy, feeling how big he was, how much he filled you. The meandering touch of your fingers almost sent him straight over the edge.

But it was the slick warmth of your cunt that was too much, and Steve found himself resting his forehead more and more heavily against your chest, willing himself to give you everything you wanted before he even thought about himself. The satin scent of your skin, like talcum and rose and his cologne, intoxicated him with every breath, and he sucked and nibbled on one breast and then the other, mindlessly attending to the most sensitive parts of you. A drop of sweat rolled down your sternum and Steve chased it with his tongue, licking a warm stripe up the center of your chest.

"Tell me what you need, darling."

"Fuck, that's perfect," you whined. "You fuck me so good, baby. Don't stop. Gonna make me come--make me come so hard."

Your fingers pressed against your clit once more and then you were clenching around him, your already tight pussy settling into a pulsing vice grip, your body shaking against his while he kissed the sweat from your collar bones. Steve felt you pumping the life out of him, riding out your orgasm and dragging him closer to his. The hand that had been on your clit moved to cup the weight of his balls, pinching and massaging as they pulled in heavy with the need for release.

"Where do you want me, darling, you gotta tell me."

You practically ordered him to come inside you, told him you wanted to feel him sticky between your thighs all night and it was suddenly Steve's turn to come undone, his hot seed pumping deep inside you, his twitching member finally finding release. He moaned your name against your lips, pulling you into a final searing kiss.

When, after a good twenty minutes of not moving from that position, of breathing heavy and kissing softly, you finally pulled away to lean down and lick his cock clean, the sticky mingling of you and him on your tongue, and he had to fight the urge to get hard again. And when you kissed him again, he tasted that mingling, two souls becoming one, as they were meant to be.

He slept next to you for the first time that night, your small frame encased in his, even though there was no need to share body heat in the dead of summer. But he actually slept, no dreams, no nightmares, no waking up in the middle of the night. Just deep, heavy sleep, your head tucked beneath his chin, back to his bare chest, his hands holding your breasts, and your hands holding his. Tangled together. Souls as one.

[thermaflute]

hii i’m happy i found a pov writer idk if you’ll do this but can u make a story of a fem s/o and bakugou going to a cookout thank u 💗💗💗

I haven't been to a cookout in a proper minute. I miss normal outside activities man.

Cookout

Warning: cussing, implied spicy times

💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣

Your car drove around the twisting roads, avoiding cars parked in the road and children playing in the street. They seem mostly unconcerned until the car is right near them, to which they part and stare at the drivers intensely before continuing their game. There was someone mowing their yard, a couple talking in their messy garage, someone fixing their car, all normal neighborhood activities. None of it bothered you, but you could see by your boyfriend's intense expression that it was starting to get to him. You took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it on his shoulder, "Suki baby, are you okay?"

He kinda grumbled out a passive yes but you knew better than that. The car finally stops behind a ton of other cards parked outside of a house. You can hear the sound of music thumping throughout your car. "Are you nervous about my family?"

"No, I just haven't met them so I don't know what to expect." He continued his glaring out the window.

"They're like me, and you love me."

He smiles at you, "Who said that?"

You roll your eyes and jokingly punch his shoulder "help me get this stuff out of the car babe."

He grumbles at you and opens the back door to the rental, y'all grab a backpack with your swimsuits,a bag of plastic cutlery and napkins because your uncle forgot to bring it, and Katsuki carried all the packs of soda. 

The door swings open to the house, you can see someone in the living room chasing after a toddler with a diaper in hand. Your cousin at the door beams at you.

"Y/N! And who is this? Baby is this your MANS?? When you said you were done fucking with bums you MEANT that shit."

You two burst into laughter and Katsuki keeps a stern look on his face. Your sister brought you in for a hug and you immediately felt at home. "See Suki, they like you." 

"Tch, whatever." Yall walk into the house, music from the backyard is absolutely booming through the walls. You drop off the bag in the kitchen, making sure to hug your aunt that's making lemonade before walking to the backyard.

"You know when you said you were going on that study abroad I thought you'd be doing more studying?" You turn to see who's dissing you, ready to roast em back. It's your mom.

"Don't complain, he helps me with my work mom." You hug him and he looks off, placing his arm around you. 

"I'm just messing with ya." Your mom grins and gives both of you a hug. "I'm so happy you two could make it." 

As the day goes on, you almost forget that he was nervous earlier. He went back to his loud self and your family seems to not mind that he's a bit abrasive. If anything they enjoy it.

"Why he so angry Y/n, tell his ass to calm down before he pop a blood vessel." Your cousins laugh as Katsuki appears to boil. 

"Oh he just has a lot of energy. If he's being rude just bawl up on him or ignore him." You flick his arm and he turns to look at you with that teasing look. 

"Ignore him huh?" He moves you off of him and you giggle. 

You suck your teeth and give him a kiss "now shut your crybaby ass up and get in the pool with me." That lands you a swift pickup and drop into the pool. 

"Katsuki!" You move your curls from in front of your eyes and stare up at the man snickering in front of you. 

"I ain't getting in the water." Your little cousins gang up on him and push him into the pool, earning a laugh from everybody that was watching. 

"Now what loser" you say as you float against him. He grumbles the word 'dumbass' and you feel your heart flutter. You're so glad he's enjoying himself. 

The time continued to pass, and your dad calls everyone to grab a plate. Katsuki looks in pain at your father's choice of footwear (them whack ass new balances bruh). 

"Imma buy you one of those for when we throw our own cookouts" you whisper to him.

"I think my parents would kill me."

The night was full of music and laughter, the only reason y'all haven't gotten a noise complaint is because the whole neighborhood is here. You turn around in the lawn chair to see your boyfriend struggling to do the cupid shuffle. Your aunt is cracking up at his sudden inability to dance. "You didn't tell us he couldn't dance now."

Your uncle joins in "It ain't even a dance, the instructions are literally in the song." 

"Hey, this ain't the kind of dancing he's used to" you snicker, your cousins and friends roaring at your response.

"Y/n!"

"Oop, sorry dad." You swear he always catches you saying some nonsense and never when you're saying anything regular.

Katsuki comes walking over and sits on your lap, clearly exhausted. 

"Get up, you're too heavy for that." You slap the sides of his thigh, feigning pain.

He relaxes into you further "nah you can handle it." 

You roll your eyes and smile, "if you wanna go back to the hotel you could've just asked." 

"Nah I'm cool, your mom said we could stay." 

"And sleep where? My tiny ass twin bed?" 

"You were cool with it back in your dorm." 

"Don't get me wrong babe, It's fun but I'm ready to be alone for a bit. This function will guarantee go until like 3 AM." He hops up and y'all say your goodbyes, promising to see everyone again before you leave back to Japan. Suki high fives your little cousins as y'all make your way out, them taking a strong liking to the Hero.

You secure a pan of leftovers in the backseat when you hear your dad call to you. "You're gonna see us again before you go right? You have a habit of disappearing Y/n!"

Katsuki leans out the window of the passenger seat "Don't worry, I'll make her."

You run back up to the front door and hug him goodbye before running back to your car. He waves y'all down as you two drive off into the crisp night air.

"Thank you for being so open. I know I kinda sprung this on you but I think it went really well."

You could tell he's looking at you without even having to turn your head. "It was fun, your family is cool."

You reach a stoplight and decide to push your luck, "Well I'm not tryna say I told you so but-"

He puts his hand on your thigh and you straighten up quickly, the light above you turns green on cue, "Shut up and drive dumbass." 

[et-lesailes]

iron crush

pairing: tony stark x reader

word count: 1952

summary: you’re a college student as well as roommates/best friends with peter parker, but you’ve developed a bit of a crush on his world famous, superhero mentor tony stark.

themes: age gap, smut

taglist: @evanstush​​​, @tanyam93​​​, @bval-1​​​, @wonderwinchester​​​, @patzammit​​​, @rohaintahquil​​​, @deidrashouseofpain​​​, @sammyslonglostshoe​​​, @jadedhillon​​​, @bohemian-barbie​​, @whysparker​​​, @sebastian-i-stan​​​, @sebabestianstan101​​​, @lille-kattunge​​​, @teller258316​​​, @peach-acid​​​, @allsortsofinterests​​​, @xoxabs88xox​​​, @heyiamthatbitch​​​, @cptn-sgrogers​​​, @heyyouwiththeassbutt​​​, @bangtan-serendipity​​​, @troublermalik​​​, @beardburnsupersoldiers​​​, @bookish-shristi​​​, @kind-sober-fullydressed​​​,  @gingerninjaprincess16​​​, @straightforwardly​​,  @denisemarieangelina​​​,  @frencchfries​​​, @xlanawriter​​​, @littlemoistcarrot​​​, @pottxrwolff​​​, @arianatheangelworld​​​​, @southerngracela​​​, @nsfwsebbie​​​, @rororo06​​​, @savemesteeb​​​​, @raveviolet​​​​, @hurricanerinwrites​​​​, @captainamerica-is-bae​​​​, @shaddixlife​​​​, @tessa-bl​​​​, @marvelouspottering​​​​, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc​​​​, @thegetawaywriter​​​​, @dwights-new-plague​​​​, @rynabarnesrogers​​​​, @fckdeusername��​​​,  @doloreschanal​​​​, @ssworldofsw​​​​, @la-cey​​​, @buckybarnesplumwhore​​​, @hevans-angel​​, @chuckbass-love​​, @stardust-galaxies​​, @smyfmj​​

notes: in this story, peter and reader are 18! I know the opening scene is literally from civil war where peter is a minor in high school but shhh just pretend :))) also sorry if you’re tagged and don’t care for tony, i haven’t really been separating my permanent taglist and my cevans only taglist because it’s a lot of work gjfjdjg so just ignore if you don’t want to read, no worries! also as always, graphic creds go to @thewritingdoll​ !

You first met him that fateful day he was waiting for Peter in his apartment itself, casually chatting with Aunt May while pretending to enjoy her walnut date loaves. Being Peter’s childhood friend, you’ve known of his Spider-Man secret ever since he became the masked hero, and it hadn’t been difficult for you to figure out that Tony was there for Avengers related reasons. You remember the piercing eye contact you made, the way his brown eyes lingered over you in surprise and approval; you had felt flattered beyond belief that you were even noticed in such a way when you were in the same room as Peter’s abnormally attractive aunt. 

Fast forward a few months later, and you, Peter, and your other friend Ned now have an apartment of your own. The three of you have always been inseparable; you see them as brothers and you can trust them to have your back, just like you and Ned have Peter’s whenever he’s called to save the neighborhood (and, lately, many areas outside of it).

You’re on your belly on your bed in a tank and shorts, taking notes while skimming through your psychology textbook when you hear a knock on the door. You roll your eyes- Ned always forgets his keys, which is why you tend to leave the door unlocked whenever it’s just you at home. It’s difficult to worry much about crime when you literally live with a world famous superhero. “It’s open!” you call, eyes still scanning the words on the pages before you. The door opens and you hear footsteps, louder and louder until they’ve come to your doorway. “Have you just, permanently lost your keys or something?” you ask in amusement, not even bothering to look up at your roommate.

“Didn’t get any to begin with, actually. Got a copy for me? Would be pretty helpful considering the kid never answers his goddamn phone.”

Your head immediately snaps up, your eyes widening slightly as you stare at the grown man at the entrance of your bedroom who is very clearly not Ned. “Tony!” you exclaim in surprise, moving to sit up on your knees as you gaze up at him somewhat embarrassed- and suddenly feeling much more naked. You’re comfortable with limited clothing around Peter and Ned, you’ve known them practically your whole life- but Tony is someone you’ve seen all over television, only met once… and have the slightest crush on. You’ve always loved a man with confidence, and while Tony has too much of it, you can’t help but find it appealing. You clear your throat, trying not to blush from his amused expression. “Uh, yeah, Peter’s not home right now… do you want me to text him? Maybe he’ll reply to me?”

“What? Reply to his cute best friend he drools over on a daily basis- over replying to me? No way.” Tony smirks slightly, his voice dripping with sarcasm, and you find yourself blushing deeper- though you arch an eyebrow, more than happy to confront what he’s just said. “Cute?” you repeat, and he shrugs nonchalantly, leaning against the doorframe as he takes your appearance in. “Yeah. Cute. What, haven’t heard it before? Because I highly doubt that.” 

“Not from a man twice my age, no,” you tease, suddenly feeling a little more confidence as you sit up a little straighter, remaining on your knees, “and Peter does not drool over me. Trust me, our relationship is not like that. We’ve known each other for too long.” Tony keeps his eyes on you for a few moments before suddenly nodding towards your textbook. “Whatchya working on?” You blink, glancing towards your notes. “Psychology. It’s my major.”

“So how do you read me?” he asks, and you assume he’s being some type of smart ass- after all, whenever you tell someone your major is psychology they immediately bring out the “so you can read my mind” joke- but when you look up at his expression, he actually seems genuinely curious. “Lonely.” You reply candidly, eyebrow lifting slightly. “Bored, always running out of things to do so you focus way too much on work.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s because I save the world for a living. Kind of has to be on my mind 24/7, doesn’t it?”

“Yikes, getting a little defensive, hm, Tony?” you tease with a smirk, knowing he can handle it. “That’s never a good sign in counseling…”

“Oh, are you my counselor now?” he scoffs, but the corner of his lip is tugged slightly upward, clearly able to banter just as much as you. “Alright. I’ll bite.” He comes into your room and sits down at the edge of your bed right next to you, looking at you expectantly. “Tell me, O Mighty Therapist, what should I do to alleviate my pain?” he questions dramatically, and you laugh, reaching out to nudge him. “Maybe stop being a pain in the ass to other people? Let them in for once?”

He listens thoughtfully and you're expecting a snarky comment, but instead, he replies bluntly in a low murmur with a raised brow, “What if I want a certain someone to let me in?” It takes you a few moments to realize the innuendo, your blush immediately returning once you do. “Tony…”

He leans in, his eyes focused on yours. “I won’t tell anyone…” You stare up at his features, your breath slightly heavier. You feel a bit of guilt but the desperate want is overpowering it- come on, he’s Tony Stark, and he’s here in your bedroom asking you to fuck. Maybe it’s not for the best reasons, but you decide you don’t care. You grab his face and pull him down, kissing him fiercely in response.

Everything happens so fast. His lips move against yours in intense synchrony, his hands grabbing your waist to tackle you down onto your back on the bed before he reaches out to shove your textbook and notebook off the mattress entirely. You gasp but continue to kiss him, your legs naturally moving to wrap around his waist to keep his body pressed close against yours, already feeling turned on from the friction between you. Judging by the bulge currently pressing against your inner thigh, it’s safe to say he feels the same. 

Neither of you even realize how absorbed in this kiss you are- you’re moving, practically rolling all over the place, until you roll off the bed itself. A squeal escapes your lips as both of you go tumbling onto the ground- thankfully carpeted- and you laugh breathlessly as you stare up at him, still underneath him. “Oops,” you whisper, but he just smirks and leans down to kiss you again, muttering huskily against your lips, “That’s alright, sweet cheeks, I can fuck you just as good on the floor too.” Your smile fades slightly, but only because of how aroused you’ve become just from hearing him. You’ve only ever slept with one guy before, and he was nowhere near as experienced or bold as Tony. You definitely needed this. 

He notices your expression and smirks, staring down at you as he moves one hand down to rub his fingers against your shorts. “What’s up, Y/N? You like that idea? Me fucking you into the floor of your bedroom, with your door wide open?” Your lips open into a needy moan, though you completely forgot about the door situation. Fuck. You glance to it nervously, but he only applies more pressure to your clothed entrance, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’re adorable, sweetheart. Think of it as a little adrenaline rush, hm? You have to take some risks sometimes, right?” He slips his fingers into your shorts and panties, rubbing your clit directly as he breathes out, “That’s my therapeutic advice to you…”

“A-ah…! Tony!” you moan lewdly, arching your back and staring up at him with wide eyes. “Please… I need more…”

He gladly obliges, his smirk growing wider as he eyes you hungrily. His fingers pump you skillfully, sliding in and out of your entrance and stretching you out, his thumb simultaneously teasing your clit. You’re a breathless mess of whimpers and whines, your head rolling back and your eyes shutting from the pleasure. The boy you were with before definitely didn’t know how to use his fingers. Tony, on the other hand, moves at the perfect, steady pace, actually listening to you to understand what you like and what’s working. The way he slightly crooks his fingers and expertly maneuvers them in subtle but hard hitting gestures inside your tight entrance is slowly making you uncoil- when he feels you tighten around his digits, he grins triumphantly. “Go ahead,” he commands breathlessly, “cum all over my fingers so I can taste you already…” 

You obey with a gasp, coating his fingers with your release- he withdraws them and places them in his mouth, looking at you with a hungry little smirk. “Delicious,” he growls, his devious eyes filled with lust. 

“Take off your clothes,” you breathe out suddenly, and he blinks before chuckling, pulling back slightly and obediently starting to unbutton his shirt. “For the record, I’m the one in charge here, but I also wanted to strip anyways,” he tells you playfully and you laugh, taking your own tank off feeling thankful you didn’t wear a bra that day. That would have been way too much work- you need him now. He stares down at you amazed, biting on his lip. “Damn. Your body is something else.” You widen your eyes upon seeing his cock when he removes his pants, clucking your tongue as you mumble, “I could say the same about you…”

He smirks and presses his throbbing erection against your sensitive entrance, his breaths heavy from anticipation. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, doll. Think I’m already addicted to you.” 

He thrusts into you roughly at that moment, letting out a groan of pleasure as he pins you down against the floor. You cry out in happiness as you arch your back towards him, rocking your hips upwards against his and holding onto his back tightly. You don’t even care that you’re on a rug right now- comfort is the least of your concerns when he’s stretching you out so nicely, his brown eyes filled with hunger as he stares down at you in arousal. “You look so pretty underneath me, Y/N,” he murmurs huskily, grunting with eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his dick entering deeper and deeper inside you with each thrust. “And you feel… mm… better than words can even describe…”

“Tony…! Oh, God, Tony- mm…!” You’re at a loss for words; the sensation is overwhelming, pushing you over the edge, filling every crevice of your mind with euphoria and delight. Your body’s beginning to quiver, your walls tightening around his cock- he smirks weakly in satisfaction, knowing you’re close. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum deep inside you, beautiful, I want you to cum for me… God… damn…” 

Just as promised, he releases inside you, the feeling adding to your pleasure- you gasp in delight as you cum, your head rolling back and your eyes wide as you stare up at the ceiling. He lays on top of you for a bit before slowly lifting himself off, looking down at you with his signature smirk. 

Before he can say anything, though, a voice belonging to a certain web-slinging eighteen-year-old boy standing at the doorway with a wide open mouth screams:

“What the fuck?!”

[crossbowking]

Space Between Us

Summary: (Set at the beginning of Alexandria) After the reader has one too many drinks, she finds herself being taken care of by the archer.

Request: “I’m here if you need anything, okay?” @anonymous 

A/N: I’m so sorry this one has taken so long for me to finish! With all of the shit going on in the world, it’s been a crazy couple of weeks. I hope everyone out there is staying safe during this time!

Also, I’m so sad about the season 10 finale getting pushed back because of this virus. 

Ugh.

Hopefully, this story can bring y’all a little joy during this time.

xx crossbowking

Masterlist

Ko-fi Account

It wasn’t until after you’d finished your fourth glass of wine that you realized you should’ve stopped at your third.

You hadn’t been able to help yourself though — you’d just gotten caught up in the moment, the normalcy, of what was going on around you.

Alexandria was like nothing you’d ever seen before. You hadn’t thought places like this could even exist in the new world you lived in. Yet, here it stood — with steel walls and fortified gates, with watchtowers and armories. There were children of all ages, running around as if there weren’t flesh-eating hoards of the dead roaming outside. There was enough food and water for all, enough medical supplies to stock up a small infirmary. There was even a beautiful garden, for fuck’s sake.

The people within the community had no clue — no concept — of just how bad things had gotten outside their walls.

And just how good they had it inside of them.

When Deanna had first invited your group into her home, to partake in some sort of makeshift ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ party, you’d been hesitant. After everything you’d seen, after everything you’d been through the past few months — the Governor, the Claimers, Terminus — the last thing you’d wanted to do was dress up and play pretend, as if the world hadn’t completely gone to shit.

Still, it was important that you try, that your entire group try — to fit in, to mingle, to get a feel of what exactly you were about to get yourselves into.

And even more so, it was important that you scoped out the people of Alexandria. Your group didn’t trust easy — and for good reason.

You had a little more faith than Rick and the rest of the group. Faith that there were still good people out there and maybe, just maybe, you’d found some here.

Although that could’ve been the wine talking.

A hand suddenly appeared in front of your face, waving back and forth. “Hello? Earth to Y/N,” Maggie teased from beside you, drawing you back from your dazed thoughts.

You glanced down at her sheepishly, swaying slightly from where you sat, perched on the arm of the couch. “Hm?” you hummed faintly, a lazy smile creeping across your face.

Maggie laughed aloud, her features softening for the first time in what seemed like forever as she turned to whisper something to Glenn, who sat beside her.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’re you two love birds whisperin’ ‘bout over there?” you protested with a pout, leaning over in an attempt to eavesdrop — but you suddenly found yourself tipping over, your balance having disappeared right around that second glass of wine, and landed in a clumsy pile beside Maggie.

The pair dissolved into a fit of laughter as you struggled to upright yourself, finding an unexpected giggle slip through your own lips as you gave up with a huff, your face pressed against the back cushion of the couch. “Help?” you asked pathetically, words muffled against the fabric.

Maggie stifled another laugh as she grabbed your hand, pulling you up into a seated position. Glenn shared an elusive look with Maggie, the two seemingly having a silent conversation, before he stood suddenly, extending his hand towards you. “Alright, come on.”

You accepted his reach without question, allowing him to help you up, swaying slightly on your feet. “Ooh, where we goin’?” you mumbled as Maggie joined the two of you.

“Glenn’s gonna take ya home, alright?” Maggie assured, still looking as though she was struggling to keep a straight face.

“What!” you protested, pulling your hand from Glenn’s. “I’m fine — seriously, I’m — I’m fine,” you nodded, waving off the couple as you attempted to do your best impression of a sober person.

“Okay, Y/N,” Glenn relented, crossing his arms over his chest before he smirked at you, shooting Maggie a look you couldn’t quite interpret. “Say the alphabet backward,” he challenged.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring how the motion made your head spin. “Hey, hey, no! That’s not — that’s not supposed to be your shit! Shit, I mean shtick,” you fussed, waggling your finger. “That’s — that should be Rick’s thing, right? ‘Cause, ‘cause he is a man of the law,” you grinned, drawing out the word ‘law’ before you grabbed onto Glenn’s shoulder. “Ya feel me? Ya feel me, brother?” you gasped softly, looking around in bewilderment. “Whoa, that was weird.”

Maggie covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing directly in your face before she excused herself, spotting Rosita motioning her over from the other side of the room.

“Alright, alright, let’s go,” Glenn ushered you forward despite your weakening protests.

You groaned dramatically, earning a side-eye from a couple of Alexandria’s residents — but you simply ignored them, allowing your friend to guide you out of the living room and through the front door.

The cool night air rushed to meet your flushed skin as you inhaled sharply, shaking your head back and forth in an attempt to clear some of the haziness you felt. But the motion threw you off balance and you teetered at the edge of the porch stairs for a moment before Glenn steadied you. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he cautioned before helping escort you down the steps safely.

You turned to him once you reached the sidewalk, widening your bleary eyes as you grabbed onto his arm. “Hey, can I ask you somethin’?” you suddenly mumbled, staggering briefly.

Glenn’s expression became serious as he turned to face you fully, his kind eyes locking with yours. “You okay?” he asked, worry etching his features, making him seem much older than he was.

“Is — oops, shit, sorry,“ you fumbled backward for a moment, having accidentally stepped on Glenn’s foot. You stiffened, keeping yourself upright as you took a deep breath. “Is Glenn short for Glennith?”

Glenn froze for a moment as though the question hadn’t fully registered before a smile broke across his face.

“What?” you questioned, brows knitted in confusion. “Come on, what!” you pressed, suddenly unable to stop giggling as you swayed back and forth.

“This is my favorite version of you,” Glenn laughed, reaching out to steady you once more before he jerked his head to the side, making a move to leave.

You took a step forward before faltering, gasping softly. “Shoot,” you murmured under your breath. Glenn shot you a confused look, quirking a brow at the dramatics. “I forgot my jacket,” you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest as a chill racked through you.

“Oh, I got it,” Glenn offered, turning back towards the house — but not before shooting you a firm look. “You just hang out here for a second, okay?”

You nodded, giving your friend two big thumbs up.

Glenn rolled his eyes, though a smirk was still etched on his face. “I mean it,” he urged, pointing a finger at you as he hurried back up the stairway and disappeared inside the house.

You sighed contently, unsure of the last time you’d felt this good — this free. Clearly, your tolerance for alcohol wasn’t what it used to be — but in that moment, alone in the quiet, the chilled night air biting at your exposed flesh, you simply couldn’t find it in you to give a damn.

“What’re ya doin’?” came a sudden voice, breaking the stillness.

You startled, spinning around on your heels towards where the sound came from. But you misstepped, one foot slipping off the sidewalk and onto the road, pitching you forward. Though you managed to stay standing, you straightened too quickly, suddenly losing your balance completely and tumbling down hard onto your right side. “Oof!” you huffed as your body slammed against the pavement, the skin on your right palm tearing as you attempted to catch yourself before your face hit the ground. “Yep, that’s gonna leave a mark,” you groaned through clenched teeth as you rolled onto your back, throwing one arm across your eyes.

You were vaguely aware of footsteps approaching, boots scuffing against asphalt before halting in front of you. “The hell’s wrong with ya?” came that same gruff voice from before, though closer this time.

You lifted your arm slightly, peeking up at the archer now standing above you before you covered your eyes once more. “I fell,” you exhaled defeatedly.

Daryl grunted softly. “I saw.”

You sighed once more, pushing up onto your elbows, locking eyes with the archer. “What can I say? I’m an athlete,” you shrugged sarcastically, waving one hand around as though you were royalty.

“Mhm,” Daryl murmured, nodding along — though you could’ve sworn you saw the hint of a smile toying at his lips before he reached his hand down towards you.

The sober version of yourself would’ve been mortified — but this version, this version couldn’t care less.

You took the archer’s hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet, swaying briefly until you found your balance. You huffed, blowing a misplaced strand of hair out of your face before your eyes settled on Daryl’s, noticing that he’d already been watching you. “Hi,” you smiled sweetly, wondering if you should be concerned that you could no longer feel your face.

Daryl scoffed lightly, unwinding his hand from yours, shoving it deep into the pocket of his jeans before his expression became serious. “Ya shouldn’t be out here alone, ya know,” he rumbled, surveying the surrounding area with guarded eyes. “Ain’t safe.”

You pursed your lips, looking up and down the darkened street before pointing towards the massive walls surrounding the community. “That’s why — that’s why they built these big ass walls, Dixon,” you shot back, tapping your finger to your temple. “Keeps the outside — the outside, uh, outside, you know?”

Daryl grunted. “Ain’t the outside we oughta be worried ‘bout,” he muttered under his breath before pausing, giving you a brief once over as if he was really looking at you for the first time. Then he slowly leaned forward, narrowed eyes boring into yours and you found yourself subconsciously holding your breath under his scrutinizing stare.

“What?” you asked, somewhat self consciously, ignoring the heat suddenly rushing to your cheeks.

“How much have ya had?” he questioned blankly.

“What —“

“Ta’ drink, Y/N,” he demanded, growing irritated for reasons unbeknownst to you.

“Oh,” you frowned, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “What’s it matter?”

Daryl opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of a door closing drew your attention away.

You spun around, wavering slightly, your nerves still buzzing from the moment previous as you watched Glenn hurry down the steps, your jacket in hand. “Glenn!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up into the air.

But Glenn didn’t seem fazed — instead, his expression looked tenser than it had before. He spotted Daryl behind you and nodded an acknowledgment as he approached. “Hey,” he breathed, slightly out of breath, glancing over his shoulder back up at Deanna’s house. “Here,” he murmured, handing over your jacket, peeking up at the house once more.

“What’s goin’ on?” Daryl questioned immediately, stepping up onto the sidewalk beside you.

You glanced over at the archer, his normally unreadable features back in place — but he clearly knew something was going on that you hadn’t noticed.

“No, nothing — just —“ Glenn sighed, rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand. “Sasha. She’s — she’s kind of having a tough time in there.”

Then as if on cue, Sasha came barreling through the front door, rushing down the stairs as though someone was after her. She spared the three of you a quick, flustered glance before she pushed past Glenn’s outstretched hand and stormed down the sidewalk, away from everyone else.

Glenn exhaled heavily, looking back at you and Daryl somberly. “Like I said, she’s having a tough time,” he murmured, rubbing a hand through his hair as he shifted, looking torn all of the sudden.

“Go,” Daryl suddenly rumbled.

Glenn glanced at you before looking at Daryl. “But —“

“M’ goin’ back ta’ the house anyways,” the archer interrupted. “I got her.”

You were about to ask who this ‘her’ was that they were talking about — but then Glenn was jogging off in the direction Sasha has just gone and Daryl was nudging you in the opposite direction.

“Wha — oh, alrighty then,” you stumbled forward slightly, feeling Daryl grab onto your elbow to keep you upright.

The longer you walked, the more your buzz began to wear off, the crisp night air having an efficient way of sharpening your senses. Neither you or the archer spoke, walking side by side in silence — you didn’t mind, though. You’d always felt oddly comfortable around him.

When you’d first joined the group back at Atlanta, everyone had warned you of the archer. They’d said he was hotheaded and aggressive, hostile and impulsive — especially living under the shadow of his older brother. But you’d never thought any of that — honestly, when you’d looked at him back then, you’d just thought he seemed scared.

And rightfully so if you had anything to say about it.

You sighed aloud, hugging the jacket you still held close to your chest. The house your group shared came into view — you’d only been at Alexandria for a couple of days and it seemed like no one was quite comfortable enough to move into their own spaces yet. You didn’t care — you preferred to be in close proximity to your family — it was the only way to keep everyone safe.

Daryl was so silent, you almost forgot he was beside you. Not even his footsteps made a sound — that was probably why he made such a good hunter, you thought to yourself. But you didn’t have to look at him to know he was deep in his thoughts, his mind constantly on edge, reliving the brutal past and anxiously waiting for the next bad thing to occur.

You nudged him gently. “Hey,” you murmured, your hazy eyes locking with his troubled ones. “We’re gonna be okay,” you whispered softly.

Daryl huffed, approaching the front steps of the house. “I jus’ don’t trust ‘em, is all,” he finally grumbled.

“You? Not trusting people? You’re kidding!” you teased, feigning surprise as you stepped up onto the stairs.

Karma came at you full force then — you realized too little too late that you’d misjudged your growing sobriety. Almost immediately, your foot slipped out from under you, causing you to topple forward, the steps rushing up to meet your face. But before you could fully face plant, you felt Daryl grab onto one of your flailing arms, stopping your fall just in time. “Shit,” you breathed, craning your neck to look at the archer. “I guess I deserved that one for sassing you,” you groaned, using your free hand to push yourself up.

You hissed suddenly, pain spreading through the palm of your right hand as you straightened — you’d forgotten all about your little tumble outside of Deanna’s. But before you could get a good look at your palm, Daryl’s hand snaked around your wrist, bring your arm closer to his face. He inspected your hand by the light streaming from the front porch, his expression neutral. “C’mon,” he mumbled, releasing his hold on you, nudging you up the stairs.

You cradled your hand to your chest, the pain sharper now that you were sobering up. But above anything else, you simply felt embarrassed. For drinking too much, for making an ass out of yourself — especially in front of him.

Your head hung low as you carefully maneuvered up the stairs and followed the archer inside. You spared the back of his head one last look before sighing, turning towards the stairs that led to the second floor, determined to stow yourself away in pure mortification.

“Where’re ya goin’?” Daryl’s voice cut through the silence.

You faltered, one foot already on the first step. “Oh —“

“C’mere,” he stated simply, waving you forward as he made his way into the kitchen — it wasn’t a request, you realized a moment later.

Your brows knitted in confusion as you set your jacket down on the railing, following the archer into the next room. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, watching Daryl stomp around the kitchen in a whirlwind, opening and closing cabinets, clearly searching for something. He glanced at you from over his shoulder. “Sit.”

His tone of voice made you feel like a child — but still, you did as he told, sliding down into one of the chairs around the dining table. You propped your head up with your left hand, uncurling the fingers on your right hand to examine the cut.

It wasn’t as bad as you’d thought — there were a couple of scrapes, some deeper than others, and little dark specks inside of the torn skin, most likely rocks or small pieces of gravel.

A soft clink drew your attention and you noticed the archer now standing beside you, a glass of water now placed on the table. “Drink,” he grunted before turning without another word.

You watched his retreating form, your eyes narrowing as he began searching the cabinets once more. “Have you always been this bossy or am I just realizing it now?” you challenged, quirking a brow. Daryl didn’t turn around but you heard a soft grunt which you chose to interpret as a ‘yes’.

You rolled your eyes, but grabbed the glass of water nonetheless, nearly chugging the entire contents in one gulp — you hadn’t even realized you’d been that thirsty. Daryl continued to move about the kitchen, clearly on some kind of mission, searching for something he was having trouble locating. But you were content to sit and simply watch him exist — you’d always found him as somebody you had a hard time not noticing.

You took another long swig of water as the archer reappeared at the table, holding a bowl in one hand and a first aid kit in the other. He set the bowl down and slid it towards you. “Eat,” he rumbled, his tone still demanding as he sat down on the chair diagonal from you.

Whatever smart-ass comment you were about to make fell short when you peered inside the bowl, a soft gasp escaping through your lips as you peeked up at the archer. “Is — is this —” a small smile crept over your face. “Spaghetti?”

“Aaron,” the archer answered simply, sliding a fork towards you.

You picked up the utensil from the table, digging into the meal without a second thought, unable to stop the blissful moan that came out of you after the first bite. “Oh my God,” you sighed around the food in your mouth. “I love him — I, I mean, I truly love him.”

“Alright, easy, girl,” Daryl grumbled, rummaging through the kit before pulling out tweezers, gauze and alcohol wipes.

You laughed softly. “Don’t be jealous,” you teased, shoveling another big forkful of pasta into your mouth.

The archer merely rolled his eyes, though you could’ve sworn his gaze darkened. “Lemme see,” he suddenly grumbled, grabbing the hand you’d injured, laying it onto the tabletop, palm facing the ceiling.

Using your free hand, you continued eating, every mouthful further sobering you up. Your body was starting to feel sluggish, your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment as you finished your last bite, sighing contently.

You pushed the bowl away as you propped your head up with your free hand, watching the archer’s steady movements. He picked up the tweezers, resting them between his fingertips as he slid his other hand beneath yours, bringing your palm closer to his face. His eyes narrowed as he inspected the cut on your hand, using the dimmed light above the kitchen table to survey the damage done.

He pulled your fingers back slightly, the skin on your palm stretching as he hunched over, his soft breath tickling your skin. His touch was surprisingly gentle, you realized then.

“Huh,” you breathed softly, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

Daryl glanced up, regarding you warily. “What?” he mumbled, almost self-consciously.

“Dr. Dixon,” you waggled your eyebrows, a soft laugh slipping through your lips as the archer rolled his eyes, though you could’ve sworn you saw the tips of his ears suddenly turn pink.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, though his tone lacked any harshness. He brought the tweezers to your skin, slowly pushing them deeper into your palm until he was able to grasp an imbedded piece of gravel.

You winced, fighting back the urge to curl your hand into a fist. Daryl glanced up at you, scanning your features for a moment before he continued removing the small pieces of rock, moving a fraction slower than before.

Daryl was efficient — he had your wound cleaned and bandaged within minutes, neither of you uttering a word the entire time. You were content to just watch, keeping your gaze on his features to distract you from the burning sensation on your palm. He was incredibly focused — looking as though he was diffusing bomb instead of simply wrapping your hand in gauze.

His brow was furrowed, eyes narrowed — though that seemed to be a permanent feature of his. You suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to touch him, to brush away some of the worry etched on his face — to just be closer to him.

But you fought back the urge, instead bumping your knee against his to draw his attention. “Hey,” you murmured as your eyes locked. “Everything’s gonna be okay, you know.”

Daryl was quiet for a moment, his gaze searching yours before he finished the last wrap, releasing your hand from his.

“I mean it,” you pressed, sighing softly. “Even if it doesn’t work out here, we’re gonna be alright. I need you to know that, D. I just —“ you exhaled, blowing a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m here if you need anything, okay? Anything.”

The archer remained silent, a flash of something flitting across his features as his eyes flickered down to look at your lips before locking with yours once more. “Ya got somethin’ on your face,” he suddenly murmured.

“What!” you squeaked out, leaning away from him abruptly, feeling your face flush.

Daryl pointed to the corner of his lips. “There,” he motioned, his mouth twitching as though he was struggling to keep a straight face.

Your lips formed into a pout as you pathetically felt around your face. “I was just trying to have a moment with you — you know what, whatever!” you fussed dramatically as you wiped your face, realizing a moment too late that you’d used the back of your bandaged hand. You looked down at the red stains now soaking into the gauze. “Spaghetti sauce,” you whispered defeatedly, glancing up at the archer.

Daryl was still for a moment before his face softened, a deep, rumbling laugh coming from his chest — the sound so rare it immediately caught you off guard.

And so you sat back in your seat, fondly watching the archer, desperately wanting to savor the fleeting moment.

Daryl’s gaze caught yours and his laugh faded, in its place a small, somewhat sad smile. His features settled after a moment before he lowered his head — you couldn’t place the emotion he was suddenly exuding, but it seemed to resemble something like embarrassment.

For letting his tough exterior slip? For allowing a moment of joy to overcome him?

You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that you’d give anything — anything — to soothe his bruised and weary soul.

You regarded him carefully, studying his features under the dimmed kitchen light — his guarded eyes, focused downward, his pressed lips, only parting when he brought the side of his thumb between them, the faint scar above his right eyebrow, peeking through the hair that fell over his face.

Then without thinking, you reached forward.

You didn’t miss the way Daryl flinched at your sudden movement, his entire body going rigid. You faltered, pushing past the unexpected heartache you felt. Your outstretched fingers hovered between you before you extended your reach, gently brushing back the hair that covered the archer’s eyes. “There,” you whispered, a somber smile flickering across your lips.

A beat of stillness passed as Daryl’s gaze searched yours, clearly caught off guard but a look in his eyes you had never seen before.

You exhaled, hoping the archer couldn’t hear the shakiness within your breath as you leaned back. “I —” you breathed quietly, attempting to collect yourself. “I should probably get some sleep,” you murmured, pushing past the lump in your throat, afraid of what would happen if you spent one more second with such little space between you.

“Mhm,” Daryl mumbled, nodding once, his expression unreadable though the air between you was buzzing — practically electric — every nerve ending in your body feeling as though they’d been set ablaze. It was as though there was some sort of magnetic pull, drawing you together, the distance between you becoming smaller and smaller until —

The front door suddenly splintered opened, you and Daryl simultaneously jumping to your feet at the intrusion, heavy breaths mirroring each other as you spun towards the noise.

Acting on pure instinct, Daryl yanked his hunting knife from the sheath hanging from his belt, taking a defensive step forward, part of his body automatically moving to shield you.

But when Sasha came into view, storming past the kitchen and up the stairs without a second glance, you let out the breath you’d been holding, your head dropping into your hands as your cheeks flushed, the moment prior finally registering.

What the fuck was that.

From the corner of your eye, you watched Daryl slowly retract his knife, slipping it back into its sheath. You snuck a glance at him, his body so still you weren’t even sure he was breathing.

You dropped your hands with a huff, carefully maneuvering around the archer without touching him, keeping your gaze forward as you slowly walked to the kitchen doorway. You paused once you reached the entrance, turning around to glance back at Daryl, who remained frozen in place.

“Uh,” you murmured awkwardly, gnawing on your bottom lip for a moment, trying to push past the fuzziness you felt in your stomach. “I’m — I’m gonna head to bed. Uh, thank you —“ you held up your bandaged hand. “Thank you for this,” you finished, awkwardly waving at the archer.

Daryl’s eyes remained fixed on the far wall, motionless, avoiding your gaze completely.

You sighed quietly, feeling like a fool for whatever had transpired before — and though you knew you should’ve just gone straight to bed, you couldn’t help the next words that came tumbling from your lips. “I’m sorry — shit, I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t mean — you and I —“ you huffed a breath, throwing your hands up. “Damn it, I don’t know. I’m just — I’m sorry.”

You were mortified — even more so when Daryl barely even flinched at your words, acting as though he hadn’t even heard them at all. You sighed quietly, turning to leave when suddenly, the archer spoke.

“Y/N?” his voice seemed thick, like it’d caught in his throat.

You locked eyes with him from over your shoulder, your heart beating a fraction faster. “Hm?” you hummed, not trusting your voice.

He was silent for what seemed like forever until he straightened, as if he was attempting to build some courage, steeling himself for whatever he was about to say. “Ya don’t ever gotta apologize ta’ me,” he rumbled simply.

You let his words settle, the intent behind them more meaningful than you could even comprehend in that moment. A small smile grew across your lips as you nodded slowly, a familiar heat flushing across your features. “Goodnight, Daryl,” you whispered, pushing away from the doorway and towards the stairs.

And as your foot landed on the first step, you heard a soft mumble echo from the other room.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

A/N: So...how did y’all like this one!?

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Nights in the City

Switch AU

A JSE Fanfic

Almost forgot to queue this, oops. Luckily I remembered just in time :) Anyway, this is a chapter about Schneep, because I feel like we should give him more attention in this AU. I mean, he’s a cool badass superhero, and we haven’t seen that much superhero-ing so far! So, here’s a short chapter about what that usually entails for him, with some cameos from the boys and some background characters. Enjoy :)

More of this AU found here

When most people lied about calling in sick to work, they were planning on doing something fun with their free time. But when Schneep lied about being sick, it was because he’d heard that there were some shady dealings going down on the north side of town that morning, and he had to be there to hear the information. Truly, the life of a vigilante was a glamorous one.

At least he’d had an extra-large cup of coffee that morning to make up for it. That would keep him alert as he waited on a rooftop ledge for said shady people to show up. This would be a terrible place to lose his balance. But it was the best hiding spot in the area, partially covered by a decorative stone outcropping while still being within earshot of the street below. It was a cloudy day, and not a lot of people were out and about. Which is why, when two people walked up to each other and sat down on a bench outside the building where Schneep was hiding, he paid extra close attention.

Luckily, there wasn’t too much wind or other background noise. He managed to get the gist of what these two were talking about. They were using a lot of the common code words that criminals in the city had developed. And he was familiar enough with that code to figure out they were talking about smuggling some firearms into the city. They mentioned the west edge more than once, referencing some common location that he wasn’t familiar with. And then they left.

Schneep frowned under his mask. It wasn’t a lot to go off of...but he didn’t mind. It would be nice to distract himself with a normal criminal case. To take his mind off all the stressful supernatural shit they’d been going through for the past months. And as a distraction, it was working. As he carefully slid off the roof ledge and onto a windowsill below, he was already running through the crime hotspots he knew about in the west side of the city.

Now that he was grabbing onto the windowsill below, he was about twenty feet above ground, so he dropped off the building altogether. With the ease of years of practice, he landed on his feet, letting his specially designed boots absorb the shock of the fall. Great. Now all he had to do was go home and spend the rest of the day narrowing down locations.

But as he turned to leave, Schneep paused. There was a car parked down the street, on the opposite side. Not unusual, but...it had been parked there when he arrived to eavesdrop on the criminals’ conversation. An hour ago. And again, not too unusual, but...it just didn’t look like the kind of car that would be common in this area. It was too new and clean.

Wary, Schneep looked away from it. After a moment’s hesitation, he started to walk down the street away from the car, remaining on edge and listening for anything odd.

Sure enough, as soon as he started to walk away, he heard the sound of a car starting and pulling onto the road. Going slow. Approaching. He sped up a bit, glancing around for alternate routes.

After only a minute, the car was driving alongside him. He glanced over at it just as the window rolled down. A voice shouted, “Hey!”

And Schneep immediately turned and ran into a gap between the buildings. “Hey wait!” The voice shouted, and he heard the car stop, but he didn’t slow down. There was a fire escape up ahead with a ladder, pulled up so the end was about six and a half feet off the ground. He jumped, catching onto the bottom rung, and started climbing. There were more shouts on the ground below. He didn’t pay attention to what they were saying. Instead, once he reached the first landing of the fire escape, he pushed open the window and ducked inside the—fortunately—abandoned building.

He quickly found the staircase and climbed up until he reached the roof access. Once up there, he glanced around and noticed that this building was fairly close to one of the ones next to it. So without hesitation, he jumped across the gap and onto the next building’s roof. Only then did he pause, and look over the edge to the street below.

The building was about five stories tall. Short enough that he could see a figure on the sidewalk below, tall enough to make it difficult to tell who they were. Luckily, he didn’t have to. He’d gotten a pretty good look of her when she rolled down the car window earlier. It was that detective, Kikelomo. The one who’d been working on Jackie’s disappearance, and later, the kids’ as well. And...the detective he’d ran into when he’d snuck into the police station a month ago.

“Scheiße,” Schneep cursed. He’d half-hoped that she’d forgotten about seeing him, but apparently not. And apparently she’d managed to put together that the stranger from that day was him...or, more accurately, was his ‘hero identity,’ Von Voltage. It wasn’t surprising. After all, he’d zapped a couple people when getting away. Probably a big no-no to zap people working for the police, but he’d been more concerned with leaving as fast as possible.

Was she looking for him? She must have been, but how did she find him? Silently, Schneep watched as she walked out to her car—which she parked in the middle of the street when she got out to chase him, that was a bit of a dick move—and climbed into the driver’s side, soon speeding off. He waited until the car was out of sight before leaving.

———————

A while later, Schneep arrived at Marvin and Jameson’s house, still in his super suit. He’d been careful not to be seen while running here, just in case Kikelomo was still trailing him without him knowing. But by the time he reached their street, he was pretty sure she was gone. This neighborhood wasn’t too busy, any activity was noteworthy. But he didn’t see anything strange. And JJ’s car was still in his driveway, so at least one of them was home.

Letting himself relax a bit, Schneep hurried to their front door, pulling his mask off as soon as he reached the doorstep. Without knocking, he opened the door, calling out, “Hello? Who is home?” And then he froze.

Normally, the front hall of the town house was empty. But not today. And the person he ran into wasn’t Marvin or JJ. It was Jack. Leaning against the wall by the kitchen entrance, Sam on his shoulder, looking at his phone. But he looked up at the sound of Schneep’s voice. And slowly, took in the outfit he was wearing. “Well that would explain some things,” he muttered, looking down at Sam. “Wouldn’t it?” They nodded.

“I—I—uh—you—it’s—ah—” Schneep stammered for a few seconds before clearing his throat. “What are you doing here?” he asked, slowly closing the front door behind him.

“JJ called me. There’s...um...a situation.” Jack gestured towards the kitchen entrance. Now that Schneep was getting over the shock of running into a stranger, he could hear someone’s voice coming from the room. “Apparently everyone else was busy.”

Schneep frowned. “Excuse me.” He walked past Jack and peered into the kitchen.

The voice that Schneep could hear was Marvin’s. He was arguing loudly with JJ. But Schneep could tell that wasn’t the ‘situation’ Jack was referring to. No, the ‘situation’ probably had to do with the fact that Marvin was pale as a sheet and sweating, even as he continued to argue. JJ wasn’t arguing back because his hands were busy helping keep Marvin upright, arms wrapped around his torso. Marvin clearly didn’t have the energy to stand on his own, and was holding onto JJ’s shirt tightly, even as he continued to protest.

“—not worth th’ trouble, it’s all fine,” Marvin was saying. “Y’can just go on and stop fuckin’ worryin’ about me. I can handle t’is, ‘ve done it a million times.”

JJ frowned, and didn’t say anything. Oddly enough, he was wearing his mask today, usually he only wore that for performances. He glanced over towards the door that connected the kitchen and the dining room. A red-haired woman was standing there, but at his look, she said, “Right, right,” and stepped aside. Immediately, JJ started dragging Marvin to the dining room.

“Hey! No! Drop it, Jems!” Marvin hit him weakly in the shoulder. “I don’ need to sit down.”

JJ just looked at him doubtfully.

Schneep felt this was a good moment to interject. “Ah, am I interrupting something?”

The two of them looked over at him. “Henrik! Tell him ‘m fine!” Marvin said.

“Sorry, I cannot do that,” Schneep said. “I would hate to lie to my friends.”

“Wha...?” Marvin groaned. “Alrigh’ fffffine, I’ll go...go sit at the table.” JJ looked relieved, and helped him over to the dining room, gesturing for Schneep to join them.

Nodding, Schneep retreated back into the hallway, circling around to the dining room. Jack, having heard most of that exchange, followed him.

Over in the dining room, Marvin had taken a seat at the table, leaning forward. He looked like he wanted to put his head down on the surface, but was barely resisting the urge. JJ was standing next to him, and the redheaded woman was standing off to the side. Upon seeing her, Schneep tried to retreat, again remembering that he was still wearing his super suit. Unfortunately, she caught sight of him before he could back out of the room. She gave him a friendly smile and waved.

“So...what is happening?” Schneep asked slowly.

JJ started to explain in sign language. I have rehearsal today. The first one since the...voice accident. So I really need to go. But Marvin got sick this morning and I didn’t want to leave him alone, because of how he is. But he’s insisting I go anyway and I didn’t need to call anyone to watch him, because he’s fine. A lot of the words were finger-spelled, slowing down the speech, but he was starting to get the hang of it. Nowadays he signed more frequently than he wrote.

“I see.” Schneep nodded wisely. A rehearsal, that would explain why JJ was wearing his mask. “And so you called these two to help?” He indicated Jack and the redheaded woman.

I called Jack, Jameson said, finger-spelling the name. Because Jackie’s at work, and Anti’s busy recording today, and I thought you were at work, too. I thought Jack could help, if it wasn’t a bother.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Jack said. “I was happy to come over and hang out. There’s just the bonus matter of making sure Marvin doesn’t kill himself.”

“I know what ‘m doin’,” Marvin grumbled.

You do, you just decide to cause problems on purpose, JJ rebutted.

“Okay,” Schneep said, mentally filing away the fact that Jack knew BSL. He turned to the redheaded woman. “And you are...?”

“I’m Aoife,” the woman said. “A friend of Jameson’s. He invited me to watch his rehearsal, since apparently he likes to have someone in the audience usually and Marvin wasn’t up for it. But I don’t know how to get to the theatre where he’s rehearsing, so I thought I’d stop by to ask Jameson if he could drive me. When I walked in, these two were faffing about.”

“No, Jems was faffing, I wasn’,” Marvin protested.

“Everyone is Irish,” Schneep muttered. “Dare I ask what that means?”

I understand it means ‘wasting time,’ basically, Jameson said.

“An’ you were def’nitely wasting time,” Marvin added. “Ye’ll be late at...at t’is rate.”

I’d be okay with that, as long as someone’s here to make sure you don’t do anything to tire yourself out.

“Stop worryin’ ‘bout me, you always...ye always worry ‘bout others. Be concerned with yourself, for once. Spreading too thin, stop.” Marvin’s words were starting to slur together.

“Well, ah, I was stopping by to ask if I could stay for a while,” Schneep asked. “So...I could stay and help out.”

Would you? Jameson asked.

“Of course.”

“Ye jus’ poppin’ in to check on us?” Marvin grinned a bit. “Real swell o’you.”

“That, and...ah...” Schneep awkwardly looked down at his costume. “I was out, and I didn’t—I-I wasn’t ready to go home yet. Not that there is any danger, I just...for me.” Even though he was sure Detective Kikelomo hadn’t followed him here, there was a lingering sense of paranoia that wouldn’t leave him alone.

It’s fine, Henrik, Jameson said. Jack, do you want to stay?

“If everyone’s fine with it,” Jack said cheerfully.

Marvin muttered something under his breath, finally laying his head down on the table. He appeared to have given up on getting JJ to not worry about him.

That would be so helpful, thank you both. JJ sighed. He shook Marvin’s shoulder, getting his attention. Call me if you need anything. And please, actually take the medicine this time?

“Sure, Jems,” Marvin said softly. “I promise. Now get out o’here.”

JJ nodded, and headed out, gesturing for Aoife to follow him. I’ll see all of you this afternoon. Five at the latest.

“Have fun, Jameson,” Schneep said. “Do lots of mag—oof!”

“Oh, sorry!” Aoife had bumped into him as she walked past to leave the room. She gave him a smile. “I didn’t mean it, I was trying to be quiet.”

“Is fine, do not worry,” Schneep assured her.

“Great. Oh, and if you find it, don’t get rid of it, will you?” Before Schneep could ask what she meant, she breezed past him and followed JJ out of the door.

Schneep was quiet for a moment, staring after her. Then he turned back to Jack and Marvin. “Do you two know what she meant?”

Marvin paused. “No, but I do know somet’ing. Aoife, she’s...she’s Jems’s magician friend. Works for whatever magic...place there is out there. For magicians. An’ she’s told him that she...her specialty is divination. So it’s probably important.”

Schneep blinked. “Divination? Like...seeing the future?” He couldn’t hide the skeptical tone in his voice.

“It’s not so weird,” Jack said. “Like, Sam gets feelings that they should go do something. That’s how they met all of you. I think that’s a form of divination, if just a minor bit of it.” Sam jumped in agreement.

“Well...alright.” Schneep decided to put that aside for now. “Ah, Marvin. Were you doing anything in particular that made Jems think he should call someone?”

Marvin hesitated. “I was tryin’ t’make tea,” he finally mumbled.

“Oh, tea. That sounds like a good idea,” Schneep said. “I will go make some, then.”

“...t’ank you.”

“No problem at all.” And Schneep headed back into the kitchen, determined to forget about the detective who was looking for him.

——————— 

The next few days passed uneventfully. Schneep would spend his nights scouting out locations, looking for a place that could fit the area the two criminals were referring to. They mentioned this arms deal going down a week from then, so he had that much time to narrow down where it could be taking place. He settled on three possible locations in the western part of the city that could fit, and decided to check each of them when the day came.

Said day arrived quickly, and it dawned rainy. That was annoying. And cold, because of course it was, it was practically winter by this point. His suit was insulated, but he still felt the chill. He could’ve just let it go, but he didn’t become a notorious vigilante by giving up. So he found himself running about in the rain for hours, tracking down the locations.

The first two were busts, no suspicious activity there. But as they say, the third time was the charm. Schneep arrived at an old electronics shop just as the sun was starting to go down on the dark rainy day. The sign out front said it was closed, but the lights were on inside. Not too unusual. Except for the fact that he’d suspected this place was some sort of front for a while.

Schneep waited in the shadows across the street, making sure the glowing parts of his costume were turned off, and watched the shop. He’d brought along a pair of binoculars for the scouting that day, and kept an eye on the front and side entrances. It was a few minutes before he caught sight of movement near the side. People. He couldn’t make out the details, but someone appeared in the front window to close the blinds. Maybe nothing. Or maybe...

It warranted further investigation. Schneep slipped the binoculars into a backpack, which he left tucked into a space in the wall caused by missing bricks, and hurried across the street to the shop. There weren’t many alternative entrances to this place. He’d checked. The closest thing was a window in the back, so he circled around the building to reach it. The window was high in the wall, but there were some trash cans in the nearby alley that he pulled over so he could reach it. 

Carefully, he peered over the ledge through the window. It was a bit difficult to make out the room at first, since the glass was dirty on the inside and covered in rain on the outside, but he could see a group of people. Eight of them, separated into two groups of four. And wouldn’t you know it? He recognized two of them as the pair he’d overheard last week.

The window was the type that would slide open. So Schneep slid it open an inch, listening for voices over the sound of the rain.

“—just hurry up, neither of us want this to last forever,” one voice was saying.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get your pants in a twist.” There was the sound of cloth rustling. “See? It’s right here.”

“How do we know it’s all there? And real?”

“Well, how do we know you aren’t handing over some shoddy weapons? Or ones that’ll be tracked by the coppers?”

“Just shut up,” a different voice said. “If we keep goin’ this way, we’ll be at a standoff all night. Let’s just exchange goods at the same time, then check them over.”

“Right.”

“That sounds fine to me.”

Just by this snippet of conversation, Schneep figured out that there were two groups in this exchange, and they had some trust issues with each other. Great, that would mean he’d be fighting two groups of four instead of one unified group of eight. Hopefully, some of them would try to run or attack the other group when he jumped in. And speaking of which...this seemed like a good time. When the ‘goods’ were changing hands. Silently, he slid open the window. It opened wide enough for a person. So he grabbed the edge of the windowsill, braced himself, and just as someone inside was saying, “Hey, the window’s open—” he leapt through.

He landed in the center of the room, causing instant confusion and shouting. Quickly, he grabbed the nearest person and zapped them, instantly knocking them unconscious. There was a large crate on a wheeled dolly nearby, so he kicked that towards two others. One jumped out of the way but the other was surprised and easily got knocked over.

“This was a setup!” One of the criminals shouted, pulling out a knife. “You dirty bastards!”

“Don’t pin this on us!” Another yelled, pulling out a knife of her own.

So none of them had firearms. At least, that he could see. And he assumed that the crate had some inside, so that was a factor. He’d have to be—

One of the criminals came charging at him, swiping with a knife. Schneep dodged out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough to avoid the blade grazing across his upper arm. Luckily, it didn’t break through the suit. He grabbed the culprit’s arm with both hands and, with a fair amount of effort, threw them into another criminal who was also running towards him. He let out another burst of electricity from his gloves as he did so, rendering that one unconscious as well. Then he ducked close to the ground, scooping up the knife the criminal dropped in surprise when he threw him, and dodged to the side, avoiding the sudden rush of every other criminal trying to grab him at once.

So that was two down, one temporarily out of commission as he tried to wiggle out from under the body of his friend. The one he’d hit with the crate was standing up, trying to pry open the lid. “Oh no, don’t you dare,” Schneep growled, lunging over towards the crate and grabbing one edge of it. The criminal looked up at him, shocked, then tried to punch him. He ducked, and swung the knife he’d picked up. The criminal ducked in turn, but didn’t notice that Schneep had also lunged forward, other hand coming from the other side and knocking him unconscious with a single hit. Three down.

Two of the remaining ones were now fighting with each other—as he’d predicted—and grappling in the corner. The one who’d been knocked down was standing again, recovering her bearings, and the other two were running at him. Quickly, he decided on a priority: get the crate full of guns out of reach of any of these people before taking them out. So naturally, he pushed it forward again. The two running at him leaped out of the way, clearly not wanting the same thing to happen to them as happened to their friend. Schneep took advantage of their distraction and ran after the crate, grabbing the edge of the dolly and swinging it around so it was facing the room’s door. Then he pushed it out, running after it.

“Hey!” They were shouting after him, but he couldn’t slow down. The crate, being large and heavy, was swiftly gaining momentum as it rolled down the hall. He managed to turn it through the open doorway leading to the front of the shop, but once it was in there, all he could do was aim it for the front entrance.

The crate easily smashed through the double doors and rolled out onto the street, impacting the side of a car—wait, a car?!

A siren started up, and blue lights started to flash through the blinds of the front window. Schneep let out a string of curses under his breath. He could either turn back and try to leave through the window or the side entrance, facing a small group of criminals with knives, or go through the front door and try to avoid who-knows-how-many police officers, none of whom liked him.

He thought about it for a split second before turning and going back into the back of the shop. Luckily, the criminals were also taken by surprise, so he managed to slip by them and out through the side entrance before they could. He started to run, but then paused. He grabbed one of the trash cans that he hadn’t used to get through the back window and pulled it in front of the side door, barring it. Then he started to run, heading towards the opposite end of the alley.

But then a bright yellow light shone into the alleyway. Schneep glanced behind him just long enough to confirm his first thoughts: car headlights. And a voice shouted, “You there!” and he turned and ran. Hopefully the still-falling rain would make it easy for him to lose them.

“Wait! Don’t run again!” Footsteps splashed behind him, but he didn’t stop. He ran until he reached the other end of the alley and emerged onto the opposite street. This side was empty. He glanced left, then right, then turned left and kept running. The footsteps were keeping pace with him, but if he could just get to a ladder or something he could lose them on the rooftops.

One of the streetlamps overhead was out, leaving a patch of shadow on the sidewalk and road. He ran underneath it and looked back towards the person behind—

Slip.

Because of the rain, the broken streetlamp, and that backwards glance, he didn’t see the water pooling on the sidewalk, or notice the curb that marked the corner of the street. One misstep was all it took for him to fall hard onto the street, hitting his head, and everything flashed white before fading to black.

———————

The pain was the first thing Schneep noticed when regaining consciousness. The back of his head felt like his skull had split open. The second thing he noticed was that he was lying on...a seat of some kind. A sofa? Well, it was a hard and unusually small sofa if that was the case. He heard voices as well, or maybe just one, but couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, so he ignored them and opened his eyes. Black spots danced in front of him, a shadowy face faded into his peripheral vision before fading away. Well, that was normal, so he ignored that, too. “Ja, piss off,” he muttered.

“Well, that’s a bit rude.”

That voice...sounded a bit more solid. And as he looked around his surroundings, it reinforced that first impression. He wasn’t lying on a sofa, but in the backseat of a car. Rain dotted the windows, and a light in the ceiling overhead lit up the scene in a yellow-white glow. He glanced towards the direction the voice had come from. And came face to face with Detective Kikelomo, sitting in the front seat of the car, looking around the back of the seat to stare at him.

His heart stopped. He realized he wasn’t wearing his mask anymore. Okay, time to disregard the slight murmurings that he could still hear, this was higher priority. After a moment of staring at her, frozen, he lurched into a sitting position and turned around to try and open the car door. That didn’t work, because first, it was locked, and second, the sudden motion sent a wave of nausea coursing through him. He groaned again, pressing his forehead to the car window and clenching his teeth.

“Be careful,” Kikelomo said. “You were out for a few minutes, and you might have a concussion. I was going to offer to drive you to the hospital after this.”

“Is fine,” Schneep said through gritted teeth. “I can take care of it.” Jackie would be waiting for him back at his apartment anyway. Though he didn’t like the idea of making him worried with a possible concussion, it was probably better to get his opinion first before taking it to a doctor who’d ask questions.

“Take care of it the way you took care of that puddle Rachel said you slipped in?” At this point, Schneep realized there was someone else in the car, in the front passenger seat. A woman, with blonde hair cut to chin-length. “Real nice for some superhero.”

“Shut...up.” Schneep squeezed his eyes shut. God, his head still hurt. But more importantly...“Am I being detained?”

“Well...” Kikelomo picked at the stitching on her leather seat, glanced over at the other woman, then looked back at Schneep. “No. Not exactly.”

That wasn’t what he was expecting. Schneep looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “What do you mean?”

“That wasn’t my plan at all,” Kikelomo said. “Though...I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t considering it. I was going back and forth, but then...well...that note convinced me.”

“Note?” Schneep asked, confused.

The other woman held up a folded piece of paper, a bit wet from the rain but not enough to lose its integrity. “This fell out of your...costume...when we were dragging you into the car. What’s this about, anyway?”

Schneep managed to sit up straight. “May I see that?”

The woman shrugged, and handed it over. He quickly unfolded it. There was a message written on it, in solid, straight handwriting. It read: To Rachel and Lydia. He means you no harm, and is no threat to you. I think you should let him go, because he’s currently dealing with something that your normal police can’t handle. It’d be better for everyone that way. Oh, and swing by that shop on Everett that you’ve been wanting to visit on Saturday :)

He read it a couple times, processing what it said. “I...have no idea what this is,” he finally admitted.

“Really?” Kikelomo said doubtfully.

“Really, I—” Schneep paused. “Oh.” Last week, when he’d gone to Marvin and JJ’s house. That magician friend of JJ’s, Aoife, had bumped into him. She said something weird about not getting rid of something ‘if he found it.’ This must be that something. “I understand now. It got slipped into one of my pockets, I did not even know it was there.”

Kikelomo still looked unsure. “Well...who put it there? And how did they know our first names?”

Schneep shrugged. “Someone who bumped into me. A stranger.” Not technically a lie, he wasn’t familiar with Aoife. But Marvin said she had divination magic. Had she...known this would happen?

“Alright, fine, let’s put that aside for now,” Kikelomo dismissed. “You’re not being detained, but I would like to ask you a few questions.”

“Only if you let me ask you some first,” Schneep insisted. “How did you find me? What are you planning to do? Who is this other person?”

“My name’s Lydia,” the other woman said casually. “I’m her fiancée.”

“Ah. Okay. Then what are you doing here?”

“Helping. This was all her idea, but I thought I’d join in. And good thing I did, someone needed to bring the car around when you knocked yourself the fuck out just a street over from a police raid.”

“That is fair,” Schneep relented.

“Let me start with your first question,” Kikelomo said. “I know you follow a lot of the illicit activity in the city. So, I kept my ears open for any cases going on that you might be interested in. We got a tip that there were some negotiations going on between the Striped Snakes and Monte Blanca, and I thought you might be interested in that. Apparently it was a well-known fact in the underworld. So I just followed along with the investigation.” She paused. “Technically, I’m not supposed to be here,” she admitted.

Schneep took a moment to process this. “So...you were investigating, out on your own, with the possibility of getting in trouble for it...on the chance that you would run into me.”

“...yes,” Kikelomo mumbled.

“Hey, trust me Mr. Voltage Guy, this is the first time she’s done something like this,” Lydia said. She sounded rather upbeat about that fact, almost proud.

“But I knew I had to!” Kikelomo protested. “After you snuck into the records at the police station, it took me a while to realize I’d seen you before. Actually, Rya was the one who remembered. You’re a friend of Dr. Parker, aren’t you?” Schneep hesitated, not willing to answer. But that was enough. “I thought it was strange that you risked going into the station, but once I figured out you were friends with him—he disappeared, didn’t he? And so did his daughter and her friend? It’s an unusual set of circumstances, and since you like to take the law into your own hands, I figured you were trying to do something about it. Aren’t you?”

Schneep rolled his eyes, then winced as that caused a few more black spots to dance before his eyes. He really should get his head looked at soon. “You say that about taking the law into my own hands, but are you not doing the same thing, following me, tagging along on a case that wasn’t yours? Hmm?”

“I...” Kikelomo paused. “This is for my case. It’s my job to find out what happened to your friend and those kids, and if you can help—”

“Well I can’t,” Schneep interrupted.

Kikelomo blinked. “Look...I understand that you...have an operation...here. And I will admit, it does actually help in some circumstances, even if you break a thousand laws on the way. But clearly, whoever is behind this has skill. Not only have they managed to stay hidden this long, but I believe they somehow manipulated your friend’s and the kids’ memories, which is no small feat. In this case, the resources of the police are more qualified to handle this.”

At that, Schneep couldn’t help but burst into laughter. Kikelomo watched, shifting awkwardly in her seat and giving Lydia a few unsure glances. “Maybe I should...rephrase what I said,” Schneep finally said. “You cannot help me. You are not qualified for this. Trust me, I am barely qualified for this. And, quite frankly, you do not want to be involved. I often disagree with the saying ‘ignorance is bliss,’ but I think it applies in this situation.”

Kikelomo was unsure how to respond. She glanced at Lydia, who just shrugged and said, “Remember that note? It said something about the normal police not being able to handle this.”

“Even so, I can’t imagine a situation where you don’t want more hands on deck. Unless this is somehow...I don’t know, if the government is involved or if it’ll cause a scandal. But still, I’d think I’d pick up if this was something like that.”

“No, you wouldn’t. The people who want stuff like that under wraps are very good at keeping it that way.”

“Still.” Kikelomo glanced back over at Schneep, who said nothing. He didn’t care what she thought about this situation, as long as she left it alone. “We could provide protection for your friend—”

“No, you cannot,” Schneep said firmly. 

And Kikelomo fell silent again. Then she slowly turned around and started the car. “If we’re not taking you to the hospital, where are we going?”

“Drop me off on the corner of Underhill and Yew,” Schneep said, pulling his mask back on despite knowing it wouldn’t help anymore. “And please stop following me. You are just making me paranoid all the time.”

The car ride that followed was awkward and silent, but luckily, it was soon over, and Schneep stepped out of the car and onto a rainy street. He didn’t move until they were gone, and then he sighed. Well, that was bad. He didn’t want anyone knowing his identity, much less a detective and her girlfriend. But hopefully, they’d drop the matter, and he’d never run into them again.

———————

Unfortunately, those hopes were dashed two days later.

It was getting towards the end of his work shift, and Schneep was ready to leave. Not for any particular reason, he just didn’t have the energy. He’d considered taking the day off for medical purposes by calling in and telling his manager that he’d hit his head a couple days ago and had to stay home. Even if Jackie said that he’d be alright, that would still be reason enough. But he’d decided against it on the grounds that he’d already taken a few days off and risked losing his job if he did it again.

So here he was. Staring at the wall clock in the chance that it’ll go faster if he watched it. Then he heard the familiar sound of the front entrance opening and closing and Jennifer, his coworker, said, “Could you get that? I’m working on the order for the last guys.”

Sighing, he nodded, and headed out to the front counter. “Hello, welcome to Latte Lake, what can I—” Then he stopped. “You are fucking kidding me.”

The pair of customers who’d just walked in were none other than Detective Kikelomo and Lydia. Clearly off-duty, wearing casual street clothes and looking relaxed, but it was them nonetheless. And they looked just as surprised as he did. “Ohhh, that’s why the note said to come here,” Lydia muttered.

“The note—oh.” Schneep took a deep breath as he remembered the last line of the note Aoife had put in his suit. Something about the two of them going to a shop on Everett. The street where Latte Lake, the shop he worked at, was located. That should have rang a few bells when he read it, but there were a lot of shops on the street, and he’d had more pressing matters on his mind. “The next time I see that—that magician, I am going to kill her,” he muttered.

“Sounds like someone really wanted us to continue the conversation, if you ask me,” Kikelomo said, sounding a bit smug.

“Can we not do this now?” Schneep asked. “Do you know how much of a—how bad of an asshole you have to be to do something like this while someone is at work, and cannot leave? An awful one. No. Stop this.”

“Ah...well, sorry,” Kikelomo muttered. “But we didn’t come here intending to do that. We just wanted to check out the cute little cafe.” She paused. “Alright, this is the last thing I’ll say. Are you sure you don’t need our help? I mean, we’re professionals and you’re...well, you’re very good, but it’s different.”

Schneep rubbed his eyes. “Look. I do not say this because I hate you, or any of the pol—the people you work with. I say this because you literally cannot help. You cannot catch Dis—the person behind this. You cannot do anything to him. Anything you can think of will not work. We are...are just...surviving. Avoiding him. We are working on stopping him, but so far, we cannot. And you will not be any better at it. I promise you.”

Kikelomo thought about this. “Who’s ‘we’?”

“I—” Schneep choked. Even letting that slip was too much. “No. Don’t. I am asking you politely, stop talking about this. I can go in the back and just stay there, I am only talking to you out of courtesy. Just...stop. Give it up.”

Lydia nudged Kikelomo. “Hey Rachel? Maybe drop it for now.”

And Kikelomo sighed. “Alright. I’ll drop it for now. But this isn’t over, I can promise you that. I’m a detective. I will figure out what’s going on.”

“And when you do, you will see how right I am,” Schneep said stubbornly. “Now if you will excuse me.” He turned around and called out, “Jennifer? Are you okay with switching?”

“Yeah, sure, Henrik,” Jennifer replied, not noticing the way Schneep winced as she said his name out loud in front of the detective. Silently, he switched places with her, and things went back to normal as Kikelomo and Lydia placed orders, sat down to wait, and then eventually left the shop once their orders were ready.

His shift ended soon after that, and he practically ran out of the door and down towards the bus stop. As he waited for the bus to arrive, he wondered. Should he have told them the truth? It may have been unbelievable, with magicians and a man out of time and a strange gray smiling creature tormenting them all. But maybe he could have convinced them?

No. No, it was just too unbelievable. And he didn’t want to be judged for it, especially when the person doing the judging had the power to do something about it. His situation was just too precarious, being a vigilante in a city where that was illegal. He couldn’t risk a detective having a low opinion of him.

Still, he was sure that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see Detective Kikelomo. If she was so determined to figure out what was going on...maybe she’d be able to find the truth. And when that happened, Schneep would be happy to accept whatever help she offered. But he wasn’t going to be the one making the first move. He simply couldn’t afford to.

[tuffduff]

The First Meeting (Duff McKagan x Reader)

Pairing: Late 20′s!Reader x Older!Duff McKagan

Words: 1,951 (oops)

Request: @julessworldd​ :  You don’t see enough of older!duff on here. I was wondering if you could do something where the reader is like 28-29 and Duff brings her home to meet his daughters. After dating for a while. Maybe the girls are sorta rude bc she’s still in here 20s and is the first girl he’s been with since him and Susan got a divorce.(I love their relationship so much 🥺). Thank you love 💗

A/N: Thank you for requesting babe!!! Kinda struggled with this one, don’t know how I feel about it, despite the length lol. Also, can I just say as a bi girl in her early twenties how wild it is that Duff’s daughters are also so fucking gorgeous and talented? Jeez. Anyways, listen to The Pink Slips if y’all haven’t, all my love to you guys!

Taglist: @ubernoxa​ @the--blackdahlia​ @reigns420​ @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker​

You should’ve worn the pants and blouse instead of the dress you were cooped in. Or better yet, leggings. You kept smoothing your dress down, trying to judge the distance from the hem of it to your knees. Were you going to look like you were trying too hard? Either way, you knew how was it was going to look regardless of what you wore, but maybe if you dressed more modestly...

Duff’s hand grabbing yours pulled you out of your dread. He took his eyes off the road for a second and smiled.

“Why are you worried? What is it?” You fixed your gaze straight ahead to the lines painted on the road. He always seemed to just know what you were feeling, just by looking. You would have guessed maybe you were just an open book, but no, it was only Duff that always knew. Ever since the beginning.

“Maybe we should wait a little longer.” You blurted out with no buffer, no warm-up, no nonsense. Even your voice was unsteady. Duff’s grip on your hand tightened.

“Y/N, we’ve been dating for over a year now.”

“And we could break up tomorrow.” You reasoned lightly, making Duff laugh.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” He bantered back, still a relaxed smile on his face. “I’m not going anywhere, so...” he let go of your hand to pat your thigh now. “C’mon; serious. What is it, why do you want to wait?”

“Duff, we’re so close in age. It’s...I mean, they’re automatically gonna hate me. I know I would hate me if I were in their shoes.”

“Y/N, I don’t think you realize just how easy it is to love you.” Duff mused. “Don’t get me wrong. It’s, I mean, the situation is...unique. We both know that. But my girls, we raised them to be open-minded. They just have to get to know you. They’re going to love you.” You grimaced at Duff’s assuredness.

Though you had been dating Duff officially for a little over a year, you had known each other for a few years before that, introduced by a mutual friend at a small holiday get-together. At that time, you hadn’t known Duff was newly single, you were just freaking out on the inside about having a conversation with the bassist from Guns N’ Roses and praising yourself for actually getting him to laugh. Little did you know, he genuinely liked you as a person and he wasn’t just being a fake polite celebrity interacting with someone not quite as illustrious as himself.

Since then, well, things had obviously taken off. You had even met Susan, who had split with Duff amiably and still saw each other for friendly lunches or to support their daughters. But Mae and Grace themselves? Intimidation at its peak.

Neither Mae nor Grace followed you on Instagram, they never liked pictures that Duff posted including you, and they certainly were never around backstage at Guns N’ Roses gigs if you were there. You understood from their eyes; you knew how it looked. That was just the unfortunate truth, as well as disadvantage, to being so young. Everyone thought you were just after Duff for his money or something of the sort, some kind of vanity or ticket. But it wasn’t like that; you turned Duff down several times. It wasn’t as if you weren’t interested, you were just apprehensive of dating not only an older man, but a very famous and wealthy one.

But if you weren’t going to date him for that, you weren’t going to not date him for the same reasons. And it was undeniable; you and him clicked from the very beginning. Inevitable, you could feel your heart tugging, fighting, to be with him.

You started passing more familiar houses in the neighborhood, and as you got closer, you could feel yourself sweating.

“Sweetheart, relax. Everything’s gonna be fine; you’ll be laughing by the end of the night.” You turned and looked at Duff as he parked the car in the driveway, still smiling—the yin to your terrified, panicked, yang. “Come on, breathe with me.” He coaxed you gently, and you nodded, focusing on his eyes to steady yourself before you got out of the car together.

As soon as Duff opened the front door you could feel yourself tense, as if you were expecting to get attacked from the get-go.

“Mae? Grace? You guys wanna come down and say hello to Y/N?” Duff called up the staircase. You bit your lip and again smoothed down your dress.

Mae appeared first, intimidatingly beautiful and a spitting image of her mother, dressed in a tied crop top and baggy jeans with tennis shoes. Grace was right behind her with a more obvious scowl, and to your horror, wearing leggings and a t shirt. Both girls raised their eyebrows at your dress before sharing a private look at each other that knocked your self-esteem meter down a good amount.

“Y/N, this is Mae, and this is Grace. Girls—”

“Dad, we know her; this isn’t really necessary.” Grace spoke up, refusing to look at you. Mae had her arms crossed and appeared bored.

“You’ve never met before.” Duff argued lightly. You kept your mouth shut. “And what’s with this, we’re going to dinner, remember?”

“You’ve never had an issue with the way I dressed before.” Grace argued back heatedly. “Now I have to look presentable for her?”

“No, I’m not saying that, of course I’m not saying that, honey—I would never. But Y/N put in an effort to—”

“No, no, I uh, I really didn’t know what to wear…” you blurted out, wanting to cringe as both girls turned to you for the first time. “I really should’ve gone with the leggings.”

“Do you want to change?” Duff offered. “You could borrow one of my shirts—or, you know I’m sure you could borrow one of Mae’s—”

“Dad!” Mae protested immediately.

“No! No, I’m okay.” You interjected quickly. The silence filled the room again and made a mental note that you now had a story to tell if someone ever asked what your most awkward and embarrassing moment was.

“Okay, well, dinner, yeah?” Duff asked as if there weren’t obvious tension in the air. The girls silently marched passed him towards his car and climbed in the back seat together.

“They’ll warm up at dinner,” Duff insisted to you confidently. You said nothing and remained silent as you climbed into the car.

“Who’s gonna pick the music?” Duff asked, looking back in the rearview mirror. “Grace, why don’t you show Y/N some of your stuff?”

“Why would I do that?” She muttered, staring at her phone. You swallowed a little; this was actually a topic you felt confident enough to maneuver.

“I’ve already heard some of your stuff, actually.”

“What, did my dad force you to listen to it?” Grace asked unenthusiastically.

“No. I mean, he told me you had a band, but I never listened until I heard one of your songs on this sorta underground playlist at work. I loved it, and then I realized it was you.”

“Which one?” Grace asked, her tone neutral now instead of disinterested.

“‘Texas’. I really love it. I like ‘Miles Away’ too.” There was silence and you tried to remember your words and figure out if you said something insulting.

“...Thanks. I like that one too.” She said. “We’re doing a music video for it soon.”

“Really? What kinda vibe?”

“Kinda like, road trip aesthetic. Convertible with the top down on a highway.”

“That’s so perfect, I love that.” Suddenly, somehow, you had managed to stumble your way into a conversation. Duff was smiling silently, allowing it to unfold, but you barely noticed due to the conversation.

As you pulled up outside of the restaurant you and Duff frequented, you noticed more traffic and gasped lightly at the sight of the cars filling the parking lot. “Dad, look at the line! It’s Friday night at dinner time, you know it’s always packed.” Mae complained.

“Shoot, I forgot what day it was.” Duff murmured. The line was out the door with several people waiting around out front and even more inside. He frowned, clearly unsure of what to do next, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.

“Dad, I’m starving. I don’t feel like waiting an hour to eat dinner.” Grace added in her own disdain. For a moment, you took in the situation. Something so mundane, just with Duff and his daughters with the dilemma of trying to figure out what to eat, a little piece of his life that you were lucky enough to be a a part of. No problem, not even this, even seemed like a problem.

“Why don’t we just pick up pizza? Or burgers?” You suggested lightly. Duff turned to you and you smiled at him. “Or both?” He laughed, and that’s when you noticed you heard more than just the sound of his.

Both Grace and Mae were laughing too with smiles on their faces. “Yes! Both!” They agreed.

“Hell yeah,” Duff decided, giving you one last smile before he turned the car around.

When you finally arrived back home with your eclectic dinner assortment, you kicked off your heels immediately.

“Finally,” you muttered, not realizing the girls could hear you. Grace grinned.

“They’re cute, though.”

“You can have them.” You proposed without thinking. “I haven’t worn them in three years, I imagine it’ll be another three before I wear them again.”

“Oh, well...okay.” She said, giving you a small smile. “Thanks.” You smiled back and headed towards the kitchen where Duff was gathering utensils and napkins, a small smile on his face.

“You know, when I eat pizza I just hold it in my hand the entire time.” You joked lightly at the sight of the plates in his hand. “What?” You asked when he kept smiling.

“Thank you.” You frowned at him quizzically.

“For?”

“Earlier. Nothing ever makes you lose your cool. When I’m with you, life just feels as easy as breathing. Like it’s just supposed to be this way, you know?” You were taken aback by his words and smiled, leaning up to rest your head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head. “That’s why I wasn’t worried about today. It’s important to me to empower my daughters and I know once they get to know you, you’re gonna inspire them as much as you inspire me.” You let out a deep breath of appreciation, soaking in the weight of his praise, allowing yourself to feel this happiness deep to your bones.

“I hope so.” You replied. “Although, I think it’s still gonna take quite some time...” You murmured, turning to glance over your shoulder. To your surprise, the girls were already watching, whispering to each other. Mae had her phone out and smiled when she made eye contact with you.

“That height difference, though.” Mae said, heading to your side to show you the photo she had taken of you and Duff just moments prior. There was a comfort in her actions, as though she had already known you for years, watching your face and waiting for your reaction. You laughed at the picture, as did Duff, who put his arm around you and Mae both.

“I’m a real catch, what can I say,” Duff joked dryly. Mae rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, you’re in for quite the deal, Y/N…” she told you. You laughed before you privately took in the picture before you, Duff and his daughters settling down for an evening together, and somehow, that involved you. Quite the deal indeed.

[elitparadox]

Life Goes On~ (Pt. 3)

Description: you suddenly appear in haikyuu after watching the show for weeks now, and you’re trying to find a way out after learning from these talented characters. you weren’t meant to fall in love with any of them, but with osamu’s alluring formosity and talent, you can’t help but rethink your life that has led up to this exact moment.

Genre: fluff, slight crack, slow burn

feat: miya osamu x f!reader

word count: 1.3k

status: ongoing

parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Then it hits you. Time. You never thought about it, yet now another wave of panic is crashing down on you, more insistent this time. What about my family? They'll go crazy! And when I finally get back, they'll- *you start mentally sniffling* -they might forget me! And I won't have any food! I'll be homeless! what am I going to do what am I going to do what am I going to-

"Um, hello?" Osamu interrupts your thoughts, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

“Ah, sorry. But we should be sleeping... anyways… good night!”

You curl into a ball, the cold air still reaching your body despite the blankets.

“Ok. Night!” Osamu sighs, trudging to another bedroom.

You try to sleep, but a hurricane of convoluted thoughts swirl throughout your mind, devastating every morally supportive reminder as you contemplate if you should retrace your steps. You count sheep, like a totally normal person would when sleep doesn’t come to them, but it doesn’t work. Then you remember how you would usually go outside, nature doing its job for you.

You slip out of the apartment, trying to stay as quiet as you can.

That doesn’t happen, obviously.

“Ow!” You swear as you bump into a sharp edge on the counter near the exit door.

The door slams closed, almost on your bare foot.

“How graceful.” You walk up the apartment stairs, reaching a latch leading to the top. As you open it, the sudden wind nearly topples you off your feet like a harsh admonishment to stay away.

“Wow. It’s cold up here. I mean, of course it would be.”

The cold washes over your body as a layer- frigid instead of warm. You shiver, your body temperature seeming to slowly decrease by the second. But the stars shine light upon you like a spotlight, but even better. It was a burst of temporary happiness and ideas.

You walk toward the edge of the balcony deck, leaning onto the parapet.

“Life goes on, and every second matters. But, I need to find a way out of here. How am I going to stay? I don’t even know how I got here. This is just great. I don’t want to depend on anyone ‘cuz i feel like i need to owe-”

You don’t realize you’re muttering sleepily to yourself until a voice behind you makes you jump literally five feet in the air.

“Why are you up here?”

You whip around to find Osamu standing there, and you let out a sigh of relief because you were actually expecting a janitor to say this.

“Um, well, long story short- I couldn’t sleep.”

He looks back and forth at your dreamy visage and your shivering self. 

“You’re going to catch a cold. Jus’ come inside.”

Without responding, you turn back toward the night sky with its brilliant stars illuminating the bright bustling city below. The whispering wind blows loose strands of your somehow silky hair across your face, and with the surprisingly calming feeling radiating from osamu, you fall asleep, your head nestled in your folded arms. (and osamu has to give you a piggyback down the stairs into his bedroom btw absolutely nothing nasty happens)

The morning settles over you slowly like the unfolding blatant truth. Rubbing your eyes and sitting up, you look around, unable to believe that you’re not in your room, because you half-expected that what happened before was all a dream, except you can’t dream a dream in a dream.

So, you know the usual morning routine, you get out of bed, brush your teeth, get dressed, and figure a way out of here (which isn’t what you would normally do, but change of plans..)

It was then you noticed Osamu cooking some other delicacy in the kitchen.

Your heart softens like syrup on waffles, because never before had anyone done this for a stranger like you, and you say “Samu, you don’t have to do all this for ME. don’t you have bigger fish to fry? Besides i have to find a way out- i mean, leave soon-”

“OK, but do you know where you’re going? You seem new to this town…”

You gulped. Your ideas for returning home seemed futile now. You couldn’t wait forever, you didn’t have any way to travel back, and, for the sake of osamu, you couldn’t stay in his apartment for as long as you had to (which could be years)!

Please let this be a dream. Please let this be a dream. Please-

Osamu chuckles slightly while frying eggs on a pan, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You don’t know, don’t you?”

“Like I said…” And, too mentally exhausted for lies, you reiterate how you were brought here.

As you catch your breath, you look at Osamu. Is that amusement in his eyes?

“No, seriously! That’s legit what happened, okay? Why would I lie about this?” You insist, frustration clawing its way up your stomach.

He seems thoughtful for a silent minute. “No idea. You don’t seem to be lying… but should I take you to the therapist? I think they could help. By the way, what’s your name? I can’t believe I forgot to ask you this.”

“Y/N. And I don’t need to go to the therapist! I’m telling you, this is what happened! And I don’t know where I’m going to stay for possibly the rest of my life!”

You sigh, the frustration already kindling a fire in your eyes, slumping down on the couch.

“Hey.” The previous glint in his eyes disappear like mist as he strides in long graceful steps toward you (after turning down the cooktop temperature) “Jus’ calm down already. I’ll help ya if ya need it. Besides, would staying in my apartment really hurt ya?”

“Okay..” you say slowly because you’re trying not to think about the way his hand is surprisingly on your shoulder. “But only if you can help me with volleyball.”

To spend the time, you think silently.

The look on Osamu’s face was priceless. Actually, it wasn’t. Because his expression was as blank as a fresh sheet of paper.

“What?” He asked like I’d just sprouted two heads.

“What do you mean what? Is it so wrong that I ask you for volleyball help when you’re an awesome spiker in Inarizaki?”

Oop. Major oop.

“How do you know that I’m in-”

“Ok okokokkkkkkk” You drag out the word, trying to think of an excuse during these seconds.

“Welp.. we’re near Inarizaki High, so isn’t it obvious that every high schooler from this neighborhood goes there?”

Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. “Oh yeah. Sorry.”

Realizing something else, he adds, “But didn’t you say that you don’t come from here?”

“Oh yeah. I forgot to mention, you’re part of a popular TV series”

“What?”

Now you’re starting to think he’s a total dumbass like his brother. “I said what I said.”

“Okay. I don’t believe ya, but sure.”

“Anyways… are you gonna help train me or do you not have the time?”

That new notion hits you hard. You came here for the practice, not for the pure joy of exploring a different world...

Noticing your flustered expression, Osamu says, “I don’t have much time with all my schoolwork… but I’ll help you during the weekends and you can come watch my team’s drills and sometimes practice matches..”

“Really??? You’d do that??”

“Yes” he says with a straight face, but deep inside, his heart is fluttering ever so slightly from your overjoyed expression.

Now this… was a start.

Glancing over Osamu’s shoulder, you ask, “Aren’t those eggs getting cold?”

(requests are OPEN) hope yall like it!! tag list: @omiomi-zoomizoomi @liechelia @sillyanimedream @niconiconiithot987

[ificanthaveu]

Moments Where You Didn’t Know I Was Recording || Shawn Mendes

Description: Shawn loves to take videos of you when you’re not paying attention. You find out.

A/N: I came up with the title of this first and I’m like oh shit this could be cute and I’ve been super busy so I didn’t write this in one sitting like I usually do but I really really love how it turned out. Hope you love it :) also this is one of my faves and i forgot it’s been sitting in my drafts for weeks oops

Word Count: 3.7k

Your laugh echoed off the empty walls of your new apartment as Shawn tried to help you hang pictures.

“You can’t put that in the middle of the wall!” You yelled as he positioned the frame. He sighed and set the frame down onto the floor.

“Then where does it go?” He asked with a genuinely confused expression on his face. You laughed at him and pulled a few more photographs from the box next to him.

“They go together like a collage. Step back and let me show you how it’s done.” You shoed him away and positioned them how you wanted them, drawing marks with a pencil on the wall.

Shawn stepped back and watched you with a smile. He quietly pulled out his phone and hit record. He watched you through his screen.

You tried different positions, occasionally stepping back and tilting your head to the side, your ponytail going wherever your head did.

“Does that look ok? Or does it look completely stupid?” You asked without turning around.

“Looks great. Better than I ever could have done,” he said with a small laugh. You shook your head and picked up a frame off the floor.

“That’s not saying much,” you mumbled.

“Hey!” He yelled as he stopped the video and grabbed you from behind, lifting you and spinning as your laugh echoed once again.

—

It was windier than the forecast said it would be. This was not what you imagined would happen when you thought of bringing Shawn to your favorite spots in your hometown. The wind coming off the lake whipped your hair in every direction. You cursed yourself over and over again for not bringing anything to tie it back.

“We can do this tomorrow, babe,” Shawn said from behind you as you led him onto the rocks that bordered the lake.

“No, tomorrow we’re getting coffee with Mrs. Miller and visiting my grandparents. It’s now or never,” you said as you continued to get irritated with the weather.

You balanced on the rocks as best you could but slipped anyway. Shawn quickly reached out and grabbed your waist before you could tumble.

“You seriously would come here all the time? Isn’t this dangerous?” Shawn questioned.

You glanced back at him and shrugged your shoulders with a smile. “That’s the best part.”

Shawn shook his head as you continued to dance from rock to rock. He pressed the record button and showed off the scenic sunset in front of him. You were situated in the bottom left corner as you found the large boulder you always sat on with your best friend. Shawn watched you as you finally released your breath, brushed your hair aside and admired the beauty around you with a smile on your face. He took a few photos of you before ending the video and carefully making his way back to you.

“Was it worth it?” He said as he sat down next to you. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he looked down at you. He swore he'd never seen you more content.

“It’s worth it every time.”

—

“Quit doing that!” Shawn quietly yelled as you jumped up and rode on the cart again. You gave him that look, again, and he laughed at it, again.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you snarked back at him as you gripped onto the cart with one hand and grabbed a cereal box off the shelf with the other, knocking two onto the floor in the process. And cue Shawn with the look again.

“They’re going to kick us out of here,” he said through a laugh as you quickly put the boxes back on the shelf and climbed inside the cart this time with your back to Shawn.

“You’re mean to me,” you said with your arms crossed and head facing forward, refusing to look at him. You couldn’t see it, but you could tell he was definitely rolling his eyes.

“You are so dramatic, my love,” he said as he pushed the cart forward once again, pulling his phone out and recording it.

“Learned it from my mama,” you said with a giggle as you aggressively pointed at the box of granola bars you couldn’t reach.

“You’re kidding,” Shawn mumbled. “This is honestly like shopping with a child.”

“Please, Shawnie, just grab the granola bars,” you whined. He signed as he stopped the video on his phone and grabbed the box, tossing it in your lap and looking at you with that same look.

“Are you done?” He said as he let a small laugh escape, and you smiled up at him.

“This is what you get for not doing the grocery shopping before I flew in. You set yourself up for this,” you said as he helped you out of the cart.

You spent the rest of the grocery shopping trip gripping onto his hand and arm and resting your head on his shoulder, trying not to nod off.

—

It had been two months since you moved to Toronto to live with Shawn. You’d bought a new house together in a cute neighborhood outside of the city. Your full-time job was able to transfer you to their Toronto branch, and everything was perfect.

Except your friends had been begging to visit since you first moved in. But there were things to be unpacked from both yours and Shawn’s places, and a whole damn house to decorate. So two months later, and your three closest friends were gushing over your new house with a bottle of wine.

“This still feels really fake,” Liz said as she curled into the couch. “Like this is temporary and by next week you’ll be living down the street from me again.”

“Tell me about it. I finally finished putting my clothes in my closet last week,” you laughed as you poured another glass.

Regan launched into a story about her new Tinder disaster as the rest of you nodded along, this story sounded like you’d heard it a million times before.

You heard the back door open and close slowly, Shawn obviously trying to sneak in without any of you noticing. He obviously wasn’t good at it. By the time he made it to the kitchen, all four of you were staring at him, and he turned beat red when he noticed.

“Get the hell outta here,” Hannah yelled as she held her glass up at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at some friend’s house?”

Shawn shook his head and laughed as he quickly dipped into your room and grabbed his bag.

“Forgot my laptop,” he said as he held the bag up.

“Honey, did you seriously go to write music and not bring your computer with the music on it?” You questioned with that look on your face. You honestly don’t know how he continued to live from day to day.

He crossed the room and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “I’ll see you girls tomorrow,” he said as he made his way towards the back door.

You and your friends faced each other once again, going back into Regan’s story. Shawn paused for a minute and pulled out his phone, not wanting to miss the look on your face when you were with your friends.

You threw your head back in laughter and almost spilled your glass, quickly catching it before it met the brand new white couch. You set it down before your hand went to your heart and you laughed it off. Shawn smiled as he ended the video and tucked his phone into his pocket.

“Love you, [Y/N],” he said with his head leaning inside the living room.

“I love you, too. Now get outta here. I can’t talk about you if you’re standing right there,” you said as you shoed him off one last time.

—

You stood on your tiptoes as you grabbed a box of pasta from the top shelf and tossed it down on the counter. You bopped your head to “Mercy,” a favorite of yours since before you’d met Shawn. Even after years of knowing him, it never left your playlist.

You added the noodles to the boiling water and went in search of that jar of pasta sauce you swore you bought last week. You sat on the ground outside the cabinet it should’ve been in and dug around to see if it would maybe just jump out at you.

Unknowingly to you, Shawn came home a little earlier than expected and shook his head when he could hear the song that was blaring through the house. He slipped off his shoes and walked carefully to the doorway.

“I knew it!” You shouted as you pulled out the jar and set it next to the noodles on the counter. Your playlist switched to another song, “22” by Taylor Swift. The pasta was long abandoned as you began to jump up and down to one of your favorite songs.

Shawn pulled out his phone and started recording, trying not to laugh at the sight in front of him. You swayed your hips back and forth as you sang along and stirred the pot occasionally. You started another pan to heat up the sauce, almost spilling the entire jar, deciding you should probably stop dancing so aggressively.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you tried to wipe off the little bit that had spilled onto your sweater. Shawn quickly stopped the video, knowing you’d be turning around to go to the sink he was standing next to you.

He was right. You turned around and jumped back.

“Damn, Shawn. How long have you been standing there?” You said as you leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

“Long enough,” he said through a smile. You shook your head as you leaned against the counter and started wiping at the stain that was forming.

“Pasta for dinner,” you mumbled as you sighed in defeat that you’d definitely just ruined your new sweater. Shawn nodded his head as he set his backpack down on the table and looked back at you.

“Kiss Me Slowly” by Parachute began to play as Shawn pulled you close to him to dance. You finally relaxed into him, your arms around his neck and his around your waist as your head rested on his chest. He rested his head on your head and turned the burners off when you made your way near the stove.

“Mercy always has been one of my favorite songs,” he whispered in your ear and you could practically feel the smirk on his face. You pushed him away from you quickly.

“You ruined the moment,” you laughed as you went back to finish dinner.

—

“I’m freaking out,” you whisper shouted as Shawn gripped onto your hands backstage, rubbing his thumbs against the backs of your hands as you shook.

“You’ve practiced this a million times. You know you’re going to kill it. You’ve got this, [Y/N],” he whispered to you as you checked the time again. You gave your presentation in four minutes.

When you submitted a proposal to give a TED talk about your experiences in your life this far, you never thought they’d actually want you to give it. You had to admit you had an interesting life, but not enough that all these people wanted to hear you talk about it. But here you were, four minutes from your speech telling everyone about the time you moved to a different country to be with your rockstar boyfriend and didn’t give up your career by doing so and how you somehow learned to balance all of it.

“This is so stupid. Why am I doing this? No one wants this. No one wants to hear this,” you rambled as your anxiety got to you. Shawn quickly pulled you to him and wrapped his arms around you tightly, knowing it would maybe help a little.

“Breathe, honey,” he whispered in your ear. You took a deep breath and released it as best as you could smooshed against Shawn’s chest. He released you and rubbed your arms a few times.

“Two minutes, [Y/N],” the lady said to you. You nodded your head and thanked her.

“I gotta go up by the side,” you said quietly as you rested your forehead against Shawn’s.

“You’re going to do amazing. I’m so proud of you, and I love you,” he paused to kiss your forehead, “so damn much.” You quick pecked his lips once more before turning and waiting on the side of the stage, applying your lipstick for the tenth time and trying to breathe.

Meanwhile, Shawn stayed a few steps back and watched you as he pulled out his phone to record. He watched you take a few more deep breaths and shake out your arms a few times. You nervously reviewed your opening statement again and cracked your neck. You said a quick prayer, and the lady told you to walk out.

Shawn cheered with everyone else as you put a big smile on your face and walked out on stage. And it definitely wasn’t a fake smile. You were beyond happy to do this.

So, Shawn put his phone away and took his spot on the side of the stage and watched you with total admiration.

—

Neither of you can remember who said it first. You were both thinking it anyway, so it didn’t really matter who brought it up.

You were gone every day from 8:00 to 6:00 at your job, and Shawn liked recording at night so he was gone from 7:00 to whenever he decided to come back which was usually well into the early hours of the morning. You were lucky if the two of you had dinner together, and you were damn near blessed if you were still awake when he got home.

The two of you hadn’t had a genuine night together in longer than you can remember. So now you were both standing on opposite sides of the kitchen, not saying a word.

You both said things you regretted. Things you definitely didn’t mean.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Shawn finally said just barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you said near the same volume. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, willing the tears to stay in. You were not going to let yourself cry over this.

“Can we please just-“

“I need a minute,” you cut him off before he could say anything else. You grabbed your blanket off the chair, went out the back door and made your way to the lounge chair in the back corner of your small backyard. You wrapped it tightly around you and leaned back, staring at the sky, praying someone was listening to the prayers inside your head.

You wanted this to work. It had to work. You knew it was going to. But this was not nearly what you signed up for.

As you sat in the back with tears streaming down your face, Shawn watched you from the kitchen window, elbows resting on the edges of the sink, trying to figure out when was the best time to go back and sit in the chair across from you.

He stayed there and cursed himself for having a schedule like he did. He could easily go in the morning. He could work the same hours as her if he wanted. He’s the reason they’re in this position. He rubbed the palms of his hands aggressively against his eyes before looking up at you again.

The moonlight seemed to just hit you at the right angle. You looked up at the stars with a stuck look on your face. Without thinking, he pulled out his phone and hit record. The camera captured it well but not nearly as breathtaking as he was seeing you right now.

He watched you stand up and lay your blanket down on the ground before laying on top of it.

He took this as his time and slipped his phone in his back pocket before making his way out to you.

You could hear the grass crunching underneath his feet, but you didn’t look up. He laid down next to you, just centimeters apart.

Without speaking, you moved into his arms, your head resting on his shoulder and your arm around his middle as you both stared at the sky. His hand made his way underneath your shirt and rested on the bottom of your back.

“I’m going to make this right. I’m going to change this. I’m never going to let myself lose you,” he whispered. You simply nodded your head against his shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes, and a soft smile came across your face.

“I love you, too. Always.”

“Always.”

—

If your niece loved anything more than Uncle Shawn’s music, it was going to be Taylor Swift’s. You swear your sister-in-law must have given birth to her while listening to Lover on repeat.

Any time you were in town, you gladly took Elle for the night to spend as much time with her as possible. Your nights were filled with dance parties and whatever tv show she was currently obsessed with.

So, here you were, holding her tiny five-year-old hands and dancing to “Paper Rings” around the living room. She giggled loudly anytime you’d lift her up, spin her around or poke at her sides.

Shawn watched from his spot in the kitchen as he leaned against the counter on a phone call with Andrew. He honestly couldn’t tell you what the phone call was supposed to be about because he for sure wasn’t listening.

He hung up the phone a few minutes later and pressed record, capturing the utter joy radiating out of you and Elle. You lifted her up and held her on your hip as you dipped her up and down and she laughed uncontrollably.

Shawn couldn’t contain the smile on his face. He always thought you’d be forever, but he loved moments like this where it hit twice as hard that someday this could be you and your daughter dancing around your living room.

“Come on, Uncle Shawn!” Elle yelled over your shoulder as Shawn quickly put his phone away. He wrapped his arms around the two of you as he swayed whichever way you pulled them as Elle planted a kiss on his cheek.

And it was the moment that he didn’t need to take another video to watch on nights where he missed you or doubted this was forever. This was it. This was all he needed.

—

He bought the ring the day the two of you got home from visiting your family. He buried it in the bottom of the bottom drawer of his dresser, knowing you’d never find it.

He went through every video he’d ever taken of you where you had no idea and had Connor edit together with your song playing softly in the background.

He had it all planned out. Your friends would keep you busy for the day while he got the backyard set up with the roses and the projector. There’s no way it could go wrong.

But even Shawn should’ve known that wasn’t true.

It was a Sunday around 8:00, and the two of you were tangled together on the couch. Everything was in place for a week from today, and it drove him crazy that in a week from now you’d be his fiancé.

“I’m going to grab some tea,” he said before pressing a kiss to your head and walking over to the kitchen.

You laid on your back and stared at the ceiling trying to decide what movie you wanted to watch tonight. You looked around the living room trying to find where you left your laptop, but you couldn’t see it so you grabbed Shawn’s which was on the floor next to you.

You propped it up on your lap as you opened it up to go onto Netflix and look around.

But what was on the screen was definitely not Netflix.

Your curiosity got the best of you, and you hit play. You watched moments you never knew were caught on camera. You smiled at videos of you and your niece and the first night in your apartment. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you watched countless moments you’d nearly forgotten about.

“Did you want green or white-“ Shawn said as he leaned in the doorway but cut himself off. “Oh my God, what are you watching?” He said with panic in his voice.

“When did you do this?” You said between sobs. Shawn sighed as he trudged over to you and curled up next to you.

“You weren’t supposed to see this,” he mumbled into your shoulder.

“How did I never know you were recording?” You whispered as your eyes couldn’t leave the screen.

“You’re always in your own little world. It’s not very difficult,” he said and you could feel his smile against your shoulder as you leaned your head against his.

“You’re amazing,” you whispered. “What’s this for?” You said as you finally looked at him, and he looked up at you.

“Will you marry me?” He said with a smile on his face. Your heart stopped, and you set the laptop next to you before straddling his waist. He rubbed his hands up and down your thighs carefully as he smiled up at you

“Are you serious?” You whispered as the tears returned.

“The ring is up in my drawer underneath some shirt from high school,” he paused and rolled his eyes. “It was supposed to be a lot more romantic, but I should’ve known this would happen,” he said through a laugh and a shrug before you pressed a longing kiss to his lips. He looked you in the eyes with a total look of admiration. “But will you please be my wife?”

“Yes,” you managed to say in-between kisses. “Yes, yes, yes.” Neither of you could stop smiling or kissing, and he could only imagine how ridiculously in love the two of you looked right now.

You stopped for a moment and rested your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

“I love you,” you finally said.

“I love you. Always,” he said before pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Always.”

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[echodrops]

The Promises I Made (2018)

For the past twelve years, I’ve spent every New Year’s Eve compiling a list of fifty promises I intend to keep or fulfill over the next twelve months. The results have been truly amazing, and I have kept some promises I never thought I could. Although this year was really, really bad, oh lord... This year, for New Year’s, there will be a new set of promises for to me keep, but here are the old ones, for review!

 The Promises I Made (2018 edition)

1) I will be less anxious at work and not let passing comments from students or passive rudeness get under my skin as much. Status: Somewhat kept; I feel like I wasn’t as upset by students being rude this year as last year, but then again that might just be because I had better students. XD

2) I will be more proactive about my responsibilities for the college newspaper committee so we can make a great product. Status: Uhh… Can I count this as kept if the newspaper committee was put on hold due to decisions from the higher administration, so I didn’t have to be proactive about these responsibilities?

3) I will actually visit Mexico, not just accidentally take a wrong turn and end up there... Status: Broken. You know how some people like live next door to a restaurant for years but somehow never get around to trying it? Yeah that’s me, with the entire country of Mexico. Like, I literally live less than a mile from the border… I really should just go get lunch one day or something…

4) I will actually decorate my office with all the stuff I have had sitting around at my house for months. Status: Actually kept. I don’t feel like the decorating is really done in the office, but the decorations are no longer cluttering up my actual home instead of the office!

5) I will be better about focusing so that I can grade quickly and feel less overwhelmed throughout the course of the semester. Status: You know, it’s hard to say whether or not I did grade more quickly because spring semester I took on a really annoying class schedule and it screwed me over hard. I feel like I was a little faster this year, but I felt more overwhelmed than ever.

6) I will get the scratch on my Camaro buffed a bit to clear up the parts that can be cleared. Status: I just… didn’t do this. Broken.

7) I will repair the mortar on the fence outside the Utah house and seal the bricks on the window sills. Status: Somewhat kept/broken. I fixed the mortar on the fence outside but did not seal the windowsill bricks.

8) I will finish at least 26 books over the course of this year. Status: Look man. If my promise had been “Finish 26 fanfics longer than 100,000 words,” I would have blown this promise out of the water. But as it stands, I think I only made it to 10-ish printed books. I’m naughty. 9) I will retrim the grape vine at the Utah house and also spray/get someone to spray to kill the wasps. Status: Broken. I don’t know why I thought it would be smart to make a promise about trimming the grape vine, since that’s something you do in fall… when I’m not even in Utah… Hrmmmm… 10) I will get the mail man to stop delivering the wrong mail to my box because I’m getting ten times more mail for other people than for myself. Status: I had so many opportunities to do this, and I just didn’t. RIP.

11) I will have the fire escape window installed on the Utah house to make it legal to rent. Status: Broken. That’s a lotta money fam.

12) I will update Home and a Half at least four times (and no more double posts, just be chill Yehn, be chill for once…) Status: WOW. I was so, so optimistic, wasn’t I? 13) I will actually build all the furniture I bought for the Texas house and never assembled. Status: Mostly kept? I think there’s like one more thing I haven’t assembled (the spare futon), but up to this point I haven’t needed it, so...

14) I will actually watch Stranger Things since everyone keeps nagging me about it. Status: Broken. I just didn’t do this at all.

15) I will go to a dentist and get this annoying wisdom tooth removed and also see what can be done for my front tooth that got pushed out of alignment by said wisdom tooth. This really needs to happen ‘cause the partially erupted tooth is killing me. D; Status: Wisdom tooth is still hurting me… I am the worst at taking care of myself… 2019… the year of self-care?

16) I will take a road trip with my friend Karen like we’ve been talking about for a while. Status: Actually did this! Finally something completely kept. It was a great trip too.  

17) I will continue to serve as the video game club’s faculty sponsor. Status: I was too busy… T_T Broken.

18) I will lower my credit card debt by at least $2000. Moving is so expensive. T_T Status: I ended up having major set-backs this year in the form of having to pay out of pocket for a new windshield in my car and also my Playstation flat out dying on me, so this goal did not get satisfied. But now that my car is completely paid off (hell yeah!), I’ll finally be able to start making big payments on this sucker.

19) I will have ALL my lesson plans planned out in advance for Fall 2018 so that I can just chill next fall. Status: YO THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED. There were still some instances of needing to fix things, but overall I did actually have all the lessons done in advance, and that was probably the only reason I survived fall at all lol.

20) I will finish painting the living room in the Utah house, finally. Status: I… forgot I even made this promise. Yikes.

21) I will be better about walking my dog because I have been slacking lately. Status: I wanted to be better, but every fucking time I go to walk my dog, the neighbor’s Chihuahua runs through their fence and tries to attack my dog, so literally every walk becomes a nightmare and there were a lot of days when I just didn’t want to deal with that stress… :/

22) I will finish a game other than FFXIV this year. Man, so many games have been piling up… Status: I couldn’t even find time to play FFXIV this year, let alone another game… 23) I will write a new, original short story. Status: I… did not write like at all this year. 2018 was just really hard for me. T_T

24) I will get my black glasses fixed this year, finally. Status: Uh… Kept… I think? At least I think this promise was referring to the damage to the frames of my black glasses, which I did get fixed. But now the lens has a scratch… V_V

25) I will attend more professional development/on-campus events and trainings to bolster my evaluation. Status: Eh, kept? I’m signed up for a conference and did some extra training thing that I can throw on the sheet, so I’m calling it good.

26) I will ink and color at least the one drawing of Yehn’zi that I finished sketching a while ago and did absolutely nothing with. Status: A whole lot of nope on this one.

27) I will really finish moving in to my Texas house, no more “I’ll fish out the clothes from the Space Bag when I need them but never actually hang them up.” Status: I’m counting this as kept, since the only thing that didn’t happen is that I never took the plastic wrap off the top of my nightstand, but like… hey that’s a really convenient way to avoid water spots so…

28) I will volunteer at a non-profit organization to fulfill my “service to the community” work requirement. I mean, I will volunteer from the goodness of my heart… yeah… Status: Shitttt this didn’t happen and it really needed to… Oh dear…

29) I will level ALL my classes to 70 in Stormblood. Status: This also did not happen. No time to play.

30) I will reach 1000 followers on tumblr. You should follow me. I’m only marginally a waste of time and space. Status: Kept and exceeded! I’m at like… 1540-ish right now I believe.

31) I will find a salon so I can get my hair dyed consistently instead of looking like a shabby blob half way through each semester. Status: Well, the good news is that my hair color fades so nicely that one of my students actually asked if the strawberry blonde was my natural color. But uh… no… it’s not… so…

32) I will find some way to pay back my coworker for all the incredibly nice things she has done for me already. Status: I mean, I took her out to lunch a lot but I don’t know if I really managed to feel “equal” on the debts I owe her for helping me out.

33) I will see an Anhinga (it’s a kind of bird!) in Texas. Status: Kept! The very first time I went looking for it, I found it, so score.

34) I will win Camp NaNoWriMo this year (because November might never be a possibility for me again, given how much grading I seem to end up doing during that month). T_T Status: Broken. Again, I wrote almost nothing this year. Too much stress. T_T

35) I will scout for new neighborhoods to move to with better internet access and closer to my work. Status: Kept. It’s still a bit too early for me to be looking for specific places, but I have a better sense of where I’ll be aiming for when I do go to buy something.

36) I will try to get better at Spanish, possibly by using my DuoLingo app more. Status: …Broken.

37) I will buy sod for the front part of the Utah house so that my house actually looks decent from the curb. Status: I COULD HAVE… But I didn’t.

38) I will be more proactive about commenting, reccing, and reblogging content I appreciate online because I find so many wonderful things but I rarely say as much about them as I should. Status: I think I was worse about this than last year. I miss the days when I didn’t feel like every five minutes taken to myself was stealing from my work responsibilities…

39) I will actually use my Instagram account to upload my photography somewhere public. Status: I forgot I made this promise too. Oops…

40) I will go dolphin-watching in the Gulf. Status: Somewhat kept? I mean… I stood on the pier… And saw dolphins in the Gulf. That counts, right???

41) I will clear all the photos and videos off my phone and camera SD cards because they are overflowing. Status: Kept but now they’re just sitting on the hard drive unsorted and in a confusing jumble of unnamed folders...

42) I will update my calendar with important dates—holidays, birthdays, etc.—and be productive about sending cards and well-wishes. Status: Broken, just totally broken.

43) I will complete my series of posts about Yato/Hiyori. Really. Status: >___> One day…

44) I will not work later than 10pm on any given work night. I can’t keep running myself ragged. I need to brake sometimes. Status: HA. I was really hopeful. More broken promises…

45) I will explore some new places/cities in Texas that I have not been before. Status: I… did not do this. I had a chance to do this and I didn’t. D;

46) I will get a gardener for the Texas house because the lawn is basically unmanageable by myself. Status: Kept. Because… the lawn really was unmanageable by myself so…

47) I will clean out the fridge more often. No expired milk or ancient leftovers this year please… Status: >_____> Ooopppssss.

48) I will get some sort of watering system set up so that the lawn at the Texas house isn’t a total disaster anymore. Status: Somewhat kept. I did buy hoses and sprinklers to water the lawn but mostly it’s just been raining a lot and that made the grass greener on its own.

49) I will help make one of the super complicated cookies from the new cookie cookbook I bought for Karen. Status: Actually kept! We learned much about the workings of cookie guns.

50) I will keep these promises. Status: Ouch, this one hurts a little.

Totals Kept promises: 12 Broken promises: 29 Somewhat kept/broken promises: 9

Y I K E S ™. I thought last year was crazy and was so hopeful for this year… I had NO IDEA how hard this last year was going to be. So many broken promises; I feel so guiltyyyyy. DDDD; Although I’m still at the same job and not planning on dramatically swapping entire career fields again, things are still in the process of settling and there’s still SO much more I feel like I need to work on. 2018 was the year of being constantly overwhelmed. Unfortunately, 2019 doesn’t seem like it’s going to be much calmer because I’m still working on designing classes and getting my lessons ironed out, but I at least no longer feel like I’m at rock bottom… So, I’m cautiously, very cautiously, feeling the tiniest bit optimistic?

  Let’s do this, 2019! The new set of promises will be up by tomorrow.

[ladyteacups]

Clark’s Girl

Gif Not Mine

Summary: Finding Clark in your backyard after the ship accident and taking care of him while also flirting because let’s be honest facial hair Cavill is a damn gift.

Warnings: None.

Authors note: Umm I forgot to include the request for her to comfort him after a nightmare, but uhh I’ll maybe write a drabble for it. oops..

Requested by anon. (I know who it is, if you wanna be tagged for it lmk)

“Hey, why are you naked in my backyard?”

Clark turned around.

“I’m not naked.” She could hear the humor in his voice. He was laughing at her.

“Are you a murderer?”

He scoffed and turned to look at the lake he just walked out of. Where he saved many men’s lives.

“No.”

“Oh good.”

She rushed out with a fluffy blanket bundled and spilling over her arms.

“Here ya go. You should come with me, I may have something that will fit you. Though you’re a lot bigger up close, I may have underestimated your height.”

Clark wanted to protest but she was amusing.

“Now wait a second.” The smile on his face went unseen by her.

“No, no buts. You’re lucky. I have some beef stew on the stove. You look like a meat and potatoes kinda guy.”

“Well-“

“Stay right here, I’ll get you some clothes.”

She ran off as soon as they stepped inside.

Clark looked at his watch. He didn’t have anywhere to be. Maybe he could indulge this girl and let her mother him like she so clearly wants to.

“Here, the showers this way.”

“Why are you so eager to get me out of my clothes?”

His smirk turned her face pink.

“What clothes,” she retaliated.

Clark glanced down and laughed. “Touché.”

He took the clothes from her hands, still laughing. A quick brush of his fingers under her chin and he was leaving to shower.

Clark stepped out to dress. Simple enough, only the shirt was too small. This was a problem. It’s indecent to go shirtless in front of a lady. Even though he already did. He sighed and walked out anyway, his head hanging low.

He found her standing over the stove, dishing out two bowls, and mostly ignoring his presence.

“What’s your name?”

“Clark, ma’am.”

“Clark huh? A good name.” She cleared her throat at her odd confession, and carried the bowls to the table. Y/N stood and went to pick out two spoons.

“Well thank you.”

“Sit, I’m getting some spoons.” She pointed to the table without looking at him, turning instead back to the silverware drawer.

Y/N liked the idea of this man. His manners were impeccable. She wouldn’t mind having him around. Y/N quickly turned to him and of course, dropped the spoons.

“I-I’m sorry.” She hadn’t been expecting him to still not be wearing a shirt. Of course he caught her off guard. She bent down quickly to her right, giving Clark an eyeful as her panties peeked out of her sweats. Clarks face heated up and he averted his eyes. Such a gentleman.

He watched her throw the utensils in the sink. “Take a seat I’ll only be a moment,” she said once again.

He didn’t take his eyes off her while he pulled the chair back, listening to it scrape against the floor.

She was quite awkward, tall for a woman, with a complimenting haircut. Her eyes were intelligent and playful. She reminded him of a wise owl.

“Here ya go sugar. I hope you like it.”

She tried not to stare but she was eager to see what he thought.

He took a massive spoonful and she saw his eyes light up.

“Reminds me of my mom’s.”

“Well no one’s ever paid me a compliment like that.”

Her smile stretched her cheeks and touched her eyes. It was lovely. Infectious and lovely.

He returned it and the two finished a meal, chatting lightly and laughing together.

When finished, Y/N took the two bowls and washed them, while Clark admired her from the table.

He liked this woman. She was sweet, easy on the eyes, and reminded him of home. He wouldn’t mind staying with her for a while.

The rain came quickly. It was slow in the beginning, just sprinkling from the clouds in a low shower. She didn’t think much about it until it fell in specks of ice. Hail beating down on her roof and she knew he shouldn’t be out in this weather.

“Clark, you should stay here tonight. It’s hailing and I would never allow you to leave knowing that. I’ll make up the couch for you.”

Y/N had given him a new shirt,(her own personal night shirt) one big enough to cover him, and laid out some blankets for him.

“That oughta keep ya warm tonight. I’ll see you in the morning Clark, goodnight.”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, giving him a small smile while turning to leave.

“Goodnight,” he whispered back, lightly touching his cheek.

The next morning Y/N woke up to the blankets folded neatly on the couch and a missing Clark. He would of course return to the woman who mothered the hulk of a man. A month had gone by before he knocked on her door.

“Clark!” She was surprised. “It’s been a while. What are you doing here?”

She stepped forward to greet him with a hug.

“I was…” he pursed his lips, “in the neighborhood.”

Y/N hadn’t realized how much she missed him until she looked into his eyes.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. Come in, I have some stew on the stove, coincidentally.”

“Glad to hear it. It’s all I could think about since.”

“Is that all you thought about?”

His cheeks turned bright pink and he couldn’t help a quick once over of her body. Clark scratched the back of his head nervously.

“Uhh, yeah.”

He couldn’t look at her.

She giggled at his obvious nervousness.

Clark made it a habit to visit every month. Y/N wouldn’t complain, she enjoyed having him there. Each visit he would have something new and exciting to tell her. Y/N treasured every story. His presence became a comforting place for her.

“You wouldn’t believe this guy, flying around the city like a speeding bullet.”

Clark jumped up on the couch, pretending to fly around.

Y/N clapped her hands together with a laugh, watching Clark goof around.

“Nobody can agree whether this guy is a hero or a vigilante. It’s crazy.”

Y/N loved seeing the smile on his face. He really had become her best friend.

“And what do you think? Is he a hero or a vigilante?”

She lay her head back, tired from the long day.

He stepped down from the couch and sat next to her, gazing into her eyes and smiling at the childish wonder looking back. He rubbed his jaw in thought.

“I think he’s doing the best he can.”

Y/N nodded in acceptance. “That’s a lovely thought. I’d love to meet a man who thinks he must save the world every day.”

“I’m sure he would love to meet you too.”

He eventually moved down to coming every two weeks. Then any time he wanted. They were together more often than not.

“Tell me again.”

“I got the job at the Daily Planet.”

She squealed. “Oh Clark I’m so happy for you!”

“Thanks Y/N.”

“You’re not gonna get too busy and forget about me right?”

“Jesus no! I could never forget you.”

He gripped the phone a little tighter.

“I’ll come see you all the time. You’ll never even know I was gone.”

“You better call me all the time.”

“Of course.”

Clark smiled.

He did stick to his promise, at least for a while. Once he had gone quiet she assumed he was just busy. After a week she had begun to question what had happened. After two weeks she had started to doubt. After a month she just cried. He had stayed gone so long she couldn’t quite understand what she had done. Clark being gone was lonely. She moved through the days with a slight frown etching wrinkles into her skin. Her best friend wasn’t speaking to her and she really felt the loneliness start to sink in. The simple days she lived before Clark had never seemed this boring.

The news of Superman’s passing came as a shock. She had kept an eye on him since Clark first told her the story of the man of steel. The loss hung heavy on the worlds shoulders, but Y/N couldn’t help thinking only of Clark.

It was a nice day out. Still frosty but that’s to be expected. Y/N was reading Jane Austen and sipping tea when a knock sounded through the house. When she opened the door she was met by a tousled up Clark, a bouquet of yellow roses, and a very lengthy apology.

Taglist Angels

@redeyed-winchester @sophiealiice

[jjblue1]

As it seems the picture and the translations for Shoten 6 Tokyo Babylon story has disappeared from the net I’m going to share them.

The translation was done by iamsocool12345 and it’s shared here merely because it’s not available anymore anywhere as far as I know. Should iamsocool12345 ask for me to remove it, I’ll do it.

Now... since I know many people wonder about the last pic in which Seishiro put a ring on Subaru’s finger... well it actually isn’t a single spread picture.

That’s how the scene looked like on the original magazine.

As you can see you would have to turn the page to see Seishiro.

Now... I’ve placed all the other picture in order except those last two because it’s nice to see them as a spread page... but remember, in the original they wouldn’t have looked like one.

Tokyo Babylon - Shoten Translation *********************** BABYLON Ancient capital of Mesopotamia. In the 18th century B.C., Hamurabi, ruler of the kingdom of Babylonia, claimed it as such, and the city prospered, as a thriving political and cultural center. In time, however, the people of the city began to grow proud of this prosperity, and challenged God's authority, building a tower called "Babel" that would reach up to Heaven. Unable to forgive this indiscretion, God struck the tower down, and with it, destroyed the common language of the people. People are now doomed to repeat themselves constantly, a mark of their foolish act against God. Woe to Babylon, City that suffered the wrath of God. "He seemed pretty cool, didn't he?" Hokuto muses, sipping happily on Subaru's iced cafe au lait. Subaru isn't quite sure what Hokuto's talking about. He tilts his head. "Who?" "Sei-chan." "Oh. Seishirou-san." Hokuto's already started calling Seishirou "Sei-chan". It took her all of three hours after first meeting him, but then, she's a little more...friendly than most. [1] This is Heinesen [2], in Shinjuku's Kabukichou. [3] Not exactly the first neighborhood you'd recommend to anyone as a nice place to live, but it's still got its fair share of quality apartment complexes. All of them with very good security systems, of course. And our hero is Subaru Sumeragi. He's 163 cm tall [4], 16 years old, and he's just been accepted into his first year at CLAMP Campus Academy's high school. He has one sibling: a twin sister, Hokuto Sumeragi, who's currently lounging on the sofa across from him, with a smile. Like some of you might already know (after reading Shoten 5), Subaru-kun goes to school and "works" at the same time. He's an onmyouji. Lately, his profession has gotten lots of attention from newspapers and magazines, and a lot of people have heard about what onmyouji do. They're well-versed in astronomy and study the calendar very closely, in order to perform fortune tellings, and other special spiritual rituals. In fact, people like Subaru-kun have started to show up everywhere in popular media, lately. [5] It seems like everybody has read "Kujaku-ou" [6] or seen "Teito Monogatari" [7], and they've noticed these characters who have incredible power. Abilities beyond what any normal human being can do. Sumeragi Subaru-kun is one of these onmyouji. As a matter of fact, they're growing increasingly rare in our day. So much so that, if he let it, publicity would completely overwhelm his life. Sumeragi Subaru-kun is an onmyouji. He's adorable, still just a high school student, and he might not seem like the sharpest kid his age, but when it comes to onmyoujutsu [8], he's at the very top of his game.The 13th head of the Sumeragi family. It's a position that claims quite a bit of respect. But with that respect also comes its fair share of difficulties. Subaru-kun keeps a smile on his face, but in a profession this uncommon, it's easy to feel spread thin. His line of work can be tough. And it is work for him; he gets paid for what he does, and because of that, he feels like he can't take on any case half-way. He has to go all out, every single time. Subaru-kun has come up against some pretty unpleasant situations, but he does his best to try not to let sort of thing affect him too much. Which is easier said than done. Sometimes, he can get a little depressed, but we'll leave that for another time. For now, something else entirely is bothering Subaru-kun. Something that has nothing to do with his job...or so he's trying to tell himself. Still, he can't help but wonder if... "Hey, Subaru!" If... "Earth to Subaru! Hello~ooo? Subaru!!!" Subaru looks up suddenly, to find Hokuto hovering over him. "You were thinking again, weren't you? You're always doing that! Getting lost in thought, and shutting yourself off from the rest of the world... And I'd bet money you were just depressing yourself over it, too, whatever it was. Would you cut it out already?" She looks down at him, and... Er, well. Subaru had thought she'd been hovering over him, but it turns out she's just sitting on his lap. "Here. Phone's for you." He hadn't even heard it ring. Subaru thinks she might be right; he really doesn't pay enough attention to what's going on around him, and it could get him into trouble, one of these days. What if someone came into his room uninvited, and he didn't notice? Although he can't really imagine that anyone would want to. A thief, maybe? But it's not like that sort of thing happened very often, anyway, and...- "The phone, I said! Geeze! You're totally impossible!" Oops! There he goes again. He's really got to break that habit... "Who is it?" "Loverboy." "L-Loverboy-san? Who's that?" "You have got to be kidding me." Subaru takes the receiver from Hokuto. "H-Hello? This is Sumeragi." "Hello, there! This is Sakurazuka." "Oh! Seishirou-san!" Hokuto jumps up, spins around, and starts hopping in place excitedly. Energetic would be an understatement. Have you ever in your life seen twins with two more opposite personalities? "I'm sorry that I kept you so long today." "N-No, it's fine! I had fun." "Well, there's something I forgot to give you when I dropped you off at your apartment." "Huh?" "Do you think you might be able to stop by the hospital on your way home from school tomorrow?" "S-Sure..." "Great. Be careful tonight. I know it's been really hot out, lately, but make sure you don't catch a cold from running the air conditioner, okay? [9] Have a good night." "O-Oh, um! Okay! G-good night!" Subaru sits blinking at the cordless in his hand. "So!? What did he say!? Tell me everything!" "Um... He said there's...um, something he wants to give me..." "Presents! Starting in with the fancy gifts already, in order to win over your affections! Ooh, he's good, he's very good!" "I-I really don't think he's trying to 'win over my affections'..." "But what on earth could Sei-chan be thinking!? He knows you're head of the Sumeragi family, and he's the Sakurazukamori!" The Sakurazukamori is part of the Sakurazuka family, another famous omyouji clan, like the Sumeragi. Except...the history of the Sakurazuka family is a little less prestigious, and the Sakurazukamori doesn't exactly make his services known to the public. Supposedly, though, the Sakurazukamori considers himself above ordinary moral restrictions, and buries all of his victims in a grave called the "sakurazuka". [10] Basically, the Sakurazukamori acts as the Sakurazuka family assassin. "We don't know that for sure! The Sakurazuka family is so mysterious that even other onmyouji can't tell the truth from legend, anymore. These days, anyone could be the Sakurazukamori. Just because Seishirou-san's last name is 'Sakurazuka' doesn't necessarily mean anything..." "Well, we know that the current Sakurazukamori is a man! Obaa-chama told us so!" [11] "But that doesn't mean that it's Seishirou-san!" "He didn't exactly deny it, did he?" "He didn't say yes, either!" "Oh, come on, Subaru! What's wrong with you? It'd be so much more interesting if you were head of the Sumeragi and he was the Sakurazukamori!" "...You're crazy..." "You dummy! Don't you realize what you're doing here? Every single day, I turn on the TV, and what do I see? Perestroika, Kuwait, Iran, environmental pollution, water shortages... [12] But you know what? That's all fine, so long as girls like me can still have our fun! But will boys like you let us!? No! Instead, you have to go and ruin everything!" "...If all girls think like you, then I'm a little scared..." "Sorry to make you come out here like this." Seishirou bows low to Subaru from just inside the hospital. Subaru bows back. "But I had some business to attend to in Ikebukuro [13] today, so I stopped in at this little restaurant called Melos [14], and brought us back some tiramisu. Huh? Where's Hokuto-chan?" "Oh, um, she said that Marui [15] was having a bargain sale today..." "Aha. I understand. That definitely takes priority," Seishirou nods vigorously. "Well, let's not stand out here all day. Come on in and tell me how school was. Are you getting used to it?" Subaru follows Seishirou into his examination room, where Seishirou sets out the tiramisu and some tea. "Yeah. There are so many new faces, but... But it's a lot of fun." "Mmm. CLAMP Campus is a good school. Even if they do get a little carried away, from time to time." "Where did you go to school, Seishirou-san?" "Would you like some more tea?" Seishirou changes the topic so smoothly that Subaru figures he must not have heard the question. "S-Sure. Thank you." "Actually, I got this tea from Krishna-san. He went home to India for a wedding, and brought some back to Japan with him. He must have felt very nostalgic, visiting home for the first time in so long." [16] "Have you lived in Tokyo your whole life, Seishirou-san? Or are you..." "What wonderful weather we're having today, hmm?" And then it dawns on Subaru: apparently, Seishirou doesn't want to answer his questions. "So what did you learn about today at school?" "Um. Well, actually, the evil Imonoyama Shopping District Secret Association showed up right in the middle of class, and then the CLAMP Campus Defenders Duklyon came in to chase after them, and things got a little crazy, and that was sort of the end of the lesson, right there." [17] "Ahahahaha! As interesting as ever, then!" Seishirou laughs, long and hard, and Subaru starts to wonder if he really might be the Sakurazukamori, like Hokuto had said. After all, he seems to be avoiding Subaru's questions about his past... For the briefest instant, Subaru feels his heart ache. "What's the matter? Is the cake no good?" "Huh!? Oh! No! I-It's delicious!" "You looked so sad for a second there. Are you sure you're alright?" "I'm fine! It's nothing, really! Honest!" "Hmm. Alright, then. Although I have to admit, it's a little suspicious of you to deny it so strongly." Seishirou laughs again, and reaches to refill Subaru's cup. "Oh, that reminds me! How about we get to what I called you over for, hm?" "O-Okay!" Still smiling, Seishirou reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, covered in red velvet. "What's that?" "Open it up and see for yourself." Subaru flips the box open...and freezes. "Th-This is--!" "A ring. The size should be fine, hopefully. I've got a knack for things like that." "Wh-Who are you going to give it to?" "Ahahahaha! Why, you, of course, Subaru-kun!" "W-Wha-! You-! H-! Hold on!" "Don't worry, I don't mean to tie you down with this. It's just that it seems like so many people have been getting married lately, doesn't it? Even at Iserlohn and Heinesen [18], I feel like I know at least 10 couples who've decided to tie the knot." "Y-Yeah, I've been invited to a few of them too, but..." "Veterinary hospitals might be hospitals, but they're still businesses! I started worrying that, one day, I might not be able to afford a ring anymore. So I went out and bought this for you yesterday, while I know for certain that I've got the money to." "But I can't accept this! It's so expensive!" "You won't take it because it's expensive, or because you don't want to?" "What?" "Because it really wasn't expensive it all, Subaru-kun. You believe me, don't you?" "Well, I do...-" "Then you'll take it!" "Seishirou-san!" "I promise I'll do everything I can to give you the wedding you deserve. And I'll be a devoted husband, day in and day out! You'll look after me, won't you, Subaru-kun?" Looks like Subaru-kun doesn't have much of a say this time around! Don't worry, Subaru-kun! We're sure he'll make an honest bride out of you, soon! *laugh* *********************** [1] A cursory note I'd rather ignore, but obviously, "chan" indicates a certain closeness that most people don't really feel they've achieved in 3 hours. [2] Heinesen is a tricky one. It's a German name, but I found out that it was also used as a location in an '80s manga called Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu (in English, Legend of the Galactic Heroes), which is where CLAMP probably lifted it from. I think they mean it here to serve as the fictional building/complex that Subaru and Hokuto are living in. [3] Like the text tells us, Kabukichou in Tokyo's Shinjuku district is...lively. It's well-known for being active at night, with its fair share of restaurants, love hotels, bars, etc. It wouldn't exactly be my first choice if I were looking for a place to live, either, but in with some of the seedier stuff are some really classy clubs and restaurants. [4] 5'4", for those of you as metrically challenged as I am. [5] Actually, Japan really did see a sort of pop-occult boom in the '90s. 1999 was coming up, for one, and young people especially started to really get into stuff like that. Think of the fortune telling and matchmaking and apocalypse fear that we see in Tokyo Babylon. [6] Late '80s/early '90s manga (translates to Peacock King), with gods and demons and magic spells, and exorcisms, and all that sort of thing. [7] '70s novel turned into late '80s/early '90s live action film and anime (translated as Doomed Megalopolis in the US). The main villain is an onmyouji. [8] Onmyoujutsu is onmyouji magic, or "yin-yang magic". [9] Okay. Korea is notorious for this sort of thing, and I met a girl from Brazil who believed it. I don't think I've come across any Americans who really believe this, but I could be wrong. Anyway, the idea is that an AC or fan, especially if left on overnight in a room that you're sleeping in, can make you sick. I... I mean, maybe if you set your AC to record low temperatures? I only make a note here since reading that line in English out of nowhere like that would probably make me think Seishirou's even stranger than I'd imagined. [10] Literally, "cherry blossom grave". [11] "Grandma", but I don't feel comfortable translating it as such, since the "chama" is distinctive. Think "chan" + "sama". Subaru simply uses "obaa-chan". And everyone in English has their own cute grandmother diminutive, anyway. [12] As in depressing early '90s news. Perestroika refers to Gorbachev's doomed economic reforms, then we've got the Gulf War and Operation Desert Storm, the hole in the ozone layer, etc. [13] Big, busy commercial district in Tokyo. Sunshine 60's there. Lots of department stores and activity. [14] "Melos" might be the name of a real restaurant somewhere, but probably not in this case. If anything, I'd say CLAMP's throwing a quick nod to Hashire Melos! (Run, Melos!), an '80s anime movie, remade in the early '90s. [15] Marui's a big, famous department store, well-known for women's fashion. The logo for the store reads "OIOI", but it's pronounced "marui"..."maru" for "zero" and "i" for "one". [16] Errr. I'm pretty sure Seishirou's referring to Krishna, the CLAMP character who appears in some of their earlier stuff. He works at CLAMP Campus as a professor, I believe, and looks pretty much like Ashura-ou? I think? If you've got any more info, let me know! In any case, I doubt Seishirou's talking about Krishna, the god. [17] See CLAMP Campus Defenders Duklyon, if you haven't checked it out already. That's more or less the plot of every single chapter. [18] Iserlohn seems to be another German name/location in Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu. See note #2.

[zonevevo]

Influencer Brands To Get Your Hands On This Summer

It’s no secret that influencers have flooded our feeds and made their ways into nearly every aspect of our virtual lives. But what some may not know of is just how many have turned their online presences into influencer brands. Clothing brands, that is.

Influencers: the perfect Instagram aesthetic, trend-setting, entrepreneurial style icons we’ve all grown to love and adore (and follow tirelessly on social media). 

With most entertaining audiences of millions, these beauty, fashion and lifestyle gurus have single-handedly taken both the fashion and social media worlds by storm with ease. The industry of bloggers and influencers has seemingly grown exponentially over recent years, and for good reason. Who wouldn’t want to make six figures styling and sharing their favorite everyday looks?

While most have stayed true to their platform’s original intent, which regularly seems to be outfit inspiration and simple boasts of luxury, a select few have incorporated a new aspect to their business: becoming a fashion house. After sharing your style for so long, it only makes sense to create a brand that offers that same style to others, right? Right. Introducing: influencer brands.

Most of these fashion mavens have luxurious taste, which is absolutely infatuating to look at and mesmerizing to scroll through. But sometimes, a personalized Dior tote isn’t always in the budget. Bummer, we know. Thankfully, most of these influencer turned fashion designers have prioritized offering greater financial and size-inclusive accessibility in their lines, making their style both affordable and wearable for any of their millions of followers wanting to represent it.

If you weren’t already aware, summer has officially begun, which means it’s time for a wardrobe revamp. Pack away your warmer clothes and break out the showier ones. If you find you’re still missing a few summer staples, we’re sure that you’ll be able to find exactly what you’re looking for in some of the influencer-founded clothing lines listed below. Most of these influencer brands are dropping their summer lines now, and you don’t want to miss all the modish pieces they have to offer.

Something Navy by Arielle Charnas

We love her style almost as much as we love watching videos of her kids, and can’t help but dream of being the stylish NYC mama she has so effortlessly become. Arielle Charnas first entered the fashion realm back in 2009, when she launched her blog Something Navy as a means to show off her favorite outfits and make a certain ex-boyfriend jealous. She proceeded to move to New York City, turn her silly old blog into a business, and hasn’t looked back since. Now, the influencer has a 1.3 million following on Instagram, and has grown her blog not only to incorporate discussion on motherhood, lifestyle, NYC life and more, but also into a namesake clothing line.

Something Navy, Charnas’ first collection with Nordstrom, hit the racks in fall of 2018 and was so successful that it crashed the website on launch day. To date, Charnas has produced a handful of lines with Nordstrom, with the final collection released last November.

As of this April, Charnas relaunched her namesake as a direct to consumer label, and we couldn’t be more thrilled. The brand has also opened for retail on Bleecker Street, where all of the magic in the West Village happens, and will be a one stop shop for all of Arielle’s style fanatics. Sequins, flared sleeves, prints, ruffles, silk sets and the most perfect pops of color make her line one worth checking out — when it comes out, of course.  

The new SN line, which was supposed to drop June 22, has been temporarily postponed due to the team’s dedication toward becoming more inclusive in their marketing. But we can assure you the collection is one to be on the lookout for. Whatever influencer brands wear this summer, make sure you show off some Something Navy.

Danielle Bernstein for Macy’s by Danielle Bernstein

She’s an influencer. She’s a badass. She’s an author. She’s a New York City boss woman. And now, she’s a fashion designer. Quite the studded resumé, huh?

Danielle Bernstein, the mastermind behind fashion blog turned multi-million dollar business and clothing brand We Wore What recently took another jab at meddling with the fashion industry beyond posting OOTDs of her trademarked edgy-feminine style, a shoe line, and clothing line named after the blog that made her famous. The result? The dreamiest of influencer brands you’ve ever laid eyes on. And yes, it’s dreamy enough that we just ended a sentence in a preposition for it.

While Bernstein has had plenty of experience in the fashion design industry, her recent collaboration with Macy’s was the first namesake collection she produced. DB launched her spring line, which was the first of four collections signed with the department store, back in March, and the summer one is set to drop on June 17. While the spring collection flaunted puff sleeves, slip skirts, patterned three piece sets, and feminine dresses, the summer one appears to be all that and more. Our excitement is at an all time high.

On launch day back in March, the designer was shocked at the line’s success, and couldn’t wait to see how the summer line — which she promised was “even better” than the spring line — would perform. By the looks of the sneak peaks on her instagram, we’re anticipating a very quick sell out. Bandana tops, poplin dresses, silk tops, sets, and (of course) more puff sleeves. What more could a girl ask for? This collection is giving us major LoveShackFancy vibes, but with subtle coloring and a whole lot of versatility, and we’re not complaining about it.

The best part? Every piece boasts a price tag under $100, and the size-inclusivity is unmatched. Keep your eyes peeled and your credit cards ready. June 17 is right around the corner.

Shop the collection here when it drops, or head to your neighborhood Macy’s.

Tan Lines by Sivan Ayla

What’s summer without chic bathing suits to style it? Influencer, fashion blogger, YouTuber, tanning enthusiast, rosé connoisseur, and lover of all things summer, Sivan Ayla is now a swimsuit fashion designer. Her Instagram, which follows a harmonious aesthetic of tans and pinks, attracts well over 300,000 followers. And her swimsuit line has only increased her impressive success.

The brainchild of Sivan, TAN + LINES offers affordable, versatile, summer destination-inspired pieces that will make you wish you never hated your tan lines. Marketed with the slogan “Tan lines are sexy,” this line is the perfect spot for your summer spending. The line is chock full of different styles of bikini tops and bottoms, all of which are versatile enough to mix and match. Because the line was inspired by the influencer’s 1-year-old daughter, TL also offers a few suits for your mini.

While it sits comfortably on the neutral end of the color spectrum, there are python snake skin options available as well. And, from the looks of the Instagram account, it appears as though the line will be experimenting with some one pieces in the near future — though we are unsure of when that is.

If you’re not feeling a bathing suit on your tan-less body just yet, perhaps you might be interested in purchasing her self-developed tanning lotion. Oops, we forgot to mention she operates another business. +LUX UNFILTERED is the influencer’s founded company that features her vegan, cruelty-free, non-toxic, hydrating self-tanning cream, N°32. If you share Sivan’s belief that everyone’s a better person with a tan, this product might be the answer to your summer prayers.

TL has also branched out into the activewear department, offering a wide selection of matching biker shorts, bras, leggings, and loungewear. Moral of the story: there’s a lot this influencer has to offer, and we recommend you check it out ASAP.

Gal Meets Glam by Julia Engel

Femine, chic, whimsical, elegant. This collection is simply a summer must.

Julia Engel, AKA the dress queen, is yet another influencer who decided to turn her fashion blog into something much bigger. Engel, who now entertains well over 1 million Instagram followers, wrote her first post on style and beauty blog Gal Meets Glam way back in 2011. The blog has since grown to become a Charleston-based clothing line chock full of to-die-for prints and dresses resembling Engel’s style, which she describes as “a modern take on classic sophistication and feminine elegance.” The dress connoisseur has even been named one of Forbes’ top influencers.  

The ideation for a dress-focused clothing line began a few years after her blog took off, when Engel, recognizing a gap in the market for affordable, elegant, everyday dresses, decided to launch a collection of her own. And man, was that a great idea. The collection’s pieces feature modern takes on old-fashioned styles, most of which Engel said are silhouette renditions of 40s and 50s style dresses. From minis to midis to maxis, this line has a dress for every day of the week. And trust us, you’re going to want one for every day of the week.

Though Engel was mainly focused on creating a plethora of dresses for the everyday woman, she’s found a way to successfully incorporate sophisticated jumpsuits, dainty cardigans, and overcoats with a feminine flair into GMG’s online catalog. And we did mention how dreamy the prints are, right? Seriously, we can’t stop drooling over them.

Prints range from lemons to peaches to florals and more. And now, with the launch of her ‘Little Gal’ line, you and your mini can match for a weekend brunch out on the town. The line can be shopped for on the Gal Meets Glam website, Anthropologie, BHLDN, Nordstrom, Dillard’s, Neiman Marcus, and Stitch Fix. Oh, and did we mention GMG also partnered with Margaux to create the most sophisticated shoe line we think we’ve ever seen? Yeah, you’re going to want to check that out too.

GMG forewent launching an addition to the already stocked collection last month, but our fingers are crossed that the next launch isn’t too far away.

Song of Style for Revolve by Aimee Song

As you arrive at the profile page of Instagram influencer Aimee Song, you’re immediately greeted with a humble “5.5m” following and a bio that reads (and we quote),

Aimee Song

Impressive, no? That’s what we thought. Aimee Song, former interior design guru turned fashion icon, is easily one of the most influential influencers (how redundant!) on the market. And with her collection drop with Revolve, hers might just move up to be one of the most impressional influencer brands on the market, too.

The collection, which was affectionately named after Aimee’s fashion and lifestyle blog and path to fame, Song of Style, first dropped on Revolve’s website back in 2019.

Resembling most of the drapery that Revolve advertises, Aimee’s collection has everything you could dream of wearing. While the other brands we’ve touched on appear to have followed a generic aesthetic in their pieces, Aimee’s seems to be quite the opposite. There’s no set color palette, no ‘three products and done’ nonsense and, most importantly, no BS. Dreamy, right? Between the mini dresses, matching tweed sets, overcoats, strappy heels, wrapped skirts and sparkles throughout, we couldn’t tell if we were scrolling under Revolve’s ‘All Clothing’ tab or Aimee’s collection on its own. The brand offers everything from casual, everyday wear to runway-ready red carpet looks. If you can’t find something you love in the 150+ pieces that comprise this collection, we seriously don’t know where you will.

Though we’re 99% positive everyone who peruses the line will find something they love, Aimee helps narrow down the audience it might attract. “The Song of Style woman is bold and energetic yet also very feminine. We design what women actually want to wear. Our women appreciate beauty but also want to feel comfortable and feel like the best version of themselves,” she told Harper’s Bazaar.

But her apparel line collab with Revolve is nothing new here. What is new is the shoe line that followed this May, which, according to Aimee, completed the clothing collab. Square-toed frames, strappy pumps, textural accents (spoiler: cowhide) and nontraditional stacked-ball heels. Are you sold yet?

The prices are, as expected, similar to those found on the online luxury retailer. But, if you can get past the annoyingly high price tag, you’re in for a stylish summer.

TVF for DVF by Talia von Furstenberg

You never knew you loved three consecutive letters more than now, right? TVF — Ah, the things we would do to have that set of initials.

Diane von Furstenberg put her dent in the fashion industry way back in the 70s, when she made her namesake brand a fascination in every woman’s household. And now, nearly 50 years later, the married-into-royalty fashion connoisseur’s granddaughter, Talita Von Furstenberg, is following right along in grandma’s footsteps. And we couldn’t be more thrilled. The 21-year-old is already strides ahead of designers at her age, and we can’t wait to see the success she uncovers when the time comes for her upcoming launches to drop.

Growing up in fashion, attending runway shows and watching the behind the scenes of a hundreds-million dollar fashion house, 220k Instagram following Talita was destined to at least meddle with fashion design at some point or another. Expectedly, she did. And not only did she “meddle” with it, she killed it. Her first capsule collection for DVF launched last April, and successfully honored her grandmother’s emphasis on fashion for the delicate, elegant and glamorous woman. Upholstered buttons, to-die-for prints adorned with flowers and butterflies, and the “dreamiest assortment of sweaters, dresses and skirts” stitched together in light pinks, earthy greens and subtle lavenders. The collection is simple, and transports the wearer to a place where time moves slowly, tall Indiangrass decorates the fields, and the sunsets are always breathtaking. Talk about a daydream.

Her coming launch, which is set to drop sometime next month (per this post), has us feeling just as magical as the former, and we can’t help but dream of getting lost in daisy fields and rowing boats in hidden, lily-pad covered ponds while wearing it. Whereas her grandmother may go down in history as the mastermind behind the wrap dress, Talita may very well follow suit, but with a whimsical countryside twist to feminine garb.

The price tag is high, but any one piece from this collection will last a lifetime and will be pairable with any other item in your closet. Be on the lookout for the new TVF for DVF… Talita is confident the cardigans will be “even better” this time around.

[juggieheadcoopers-blog]

Bughead soulmate au please? :)

Here you go, anon!

Title: The Girl From the Journal

Soulmate AU: Jughead Jones has been writing about a girl he has never met before, but when he leaves his journal at his favorite coffee shop one day, an unsuspecting young woman finds it without knowing that the stranger who wrote it was actually writing about her

–

She wears her hair held high in an off-the-face-neat-and-tidy sort of way that shows the world she’s ready to concur it. Her mind drifts from one idea to the next without stopping to take a breath. And although she doesn’t know it, she impacts every single person she meets just by being exactly who she is.

24-year-old, Jughead Jones III looked up from the beat-up journal that his father had given him for his sixteenth birthday eight years ago, turning in his seat to thank the waitress for the cup of coffee she had just set on the table in front of him. He had been writing an entry a day since he had found it sitting on his bed with a big red bow tied around the front cover when he got home from school, and he hadn’t missed a day since.

“Can I get you anything else?” the waitress, all fluttery eyelashes and puckered lips, asked in the sweetest voice she could possibly muster as she smoothed out her apron and turned to smile sweetly at him.

“No, that’ll be all, thanks,” Jughead dismissed her without a second glance, taking a small sip of his coffee and immediately picking up his fountain pen to continue writing.

“Well, if you need anything else, my name is Naomi,” the waitress informed him, taking a step back from the table and gesturing towards the front of the coffee shop. “I’ll be behind the counter for a while, so just let me know if-”

“Got it,” Jughead cut her off before she could finish, and Naomi sunk back behind the counter without another word.

Jughead focused his attention back to his journal entry for the day, furrowing his brow as he waited for more words about his mystery girl to flow from pen to page like they’d always done so naturally. He had been writing about this girl for years, and although she was nameless, she had distinct features that made her almost impossible to miss if he were ever to meet her in real life. She had become somewhat of an obsession of his over the past few months, distracting him from work and relationships to the point where he was beginning to believe that this girl he created in his mind, was actually out there somewhere waiting to be found.

Just as he was about to tackle his next paragraph, his phone began buzzing frantically on the table, causing the cup of coffee to shake and shimmy all across the table in the process.

“Mr. Dawson,” Jughead answered, his voice rising an octave the way it always did whenever he spoke to his boss. “Yes, I understand that there’s a deadline and I’m - no sir, I wasn’t aware that I took you for granted - yes, sir - yes, and I’ll be there in an hour - now I’ll be there right now, I’m on my way. Okay, see you soon - in ten minutes, I’ll see you in ten minutes, goodbye!”

Jughead clicked off his phone and scooped up his messenger bag from beside him in the booth before sliding out of his seat. Taking one last gulp of his coffee, he carelessly tossed his journal into his bag before hurrying to the front of the shop to pay his bill.

Just as he reached the counter, a woman carrying an overflowing box of what looked to be gardening tools came barreling into the coffee shop without any control of her feet or the box she held in front of her.

“Sorry, excuse me, if you’d just - oops - sorry, sir, are you okay?” With the box partly obstructing her view, the woman nearly slammed straight into an older man carrying a to-go cup, dodging him by only just a hair and knocking her elbow into the counter as a result. “Ow!”

Still in a hurry, Jughead tried to block out the woman’s incessant apologies and turned to the employee behind the counter. “Hi, I’m ready to pay, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, just one moment,” she smiled at Jughead, but then turned to the crazed woman with the box, her eyes going wide as she took in the scene that was unfolding before her.

“I actually don’t have a moment, I’m-” Jughead tried to protest, but the woman behind the counter was already heading over to inspect what was happening near the front door.

“Betty, what on earth are you carrying?”

“Hey, Polly, I’m just… Hold on a second,” the crazed woman, now known as Betty, dropped her box onto one end of the counter and quickly dusted her hands off. “Ah, that’s better.”

“Okay, start explaining,” Polly instructed, nodding to the box of gardening tools and raising a curious eyebrow. “What is all this?”

“My third graders are learning about rocks and minerals this week,” Betty explained. “So I’ve been going around the neighborhood looking for different kinds of stones and varieties of soil to-”

“Sorry,” Jughead interrupted, pulling on his messenger bag impatiently and flapping his check in the air. “I don’t mean to be that guy, but if I don’t get back to my office in seven and a half minutes, my boss has threatened to strap a rocket to my back and send me flying to some unknown universe so if I could just-”

“Yes, sorry,” Polly hurried back over the the cash register and took Jughead’s credit card, quickly ringing him up and tearing off a piece of paper from the machine next to her and handing it to him. “Here’s your receipt, enjoy the rest of your day!”

“Thank you,” Jughead nodded at Polly and turned to head out the door, but before pushing it open to brave the cold morning air, Jughead stopped suddenly and turned back to Betty. “Good luck with the rock thing by the way. There’s some good ones by the lake just off Kingston Drive, if you’re still looking. It’s a gold mine down there trust me!”

With that, Jughead left the coffee shop, leaving Betty to turn back to Polly with a surprised smile on her face.

“Well, that was unexpectedly kind of him. Most guys in suits like that aren’t usually so friendly,” Betty pointed out, thinking back to all the guys she knew in college who were crazed, wannabe business tycoons with a bad attitude.

“He comes in here every morning. Sometimes in the evening too if he’s trying to meet a deadline,” Polly informed her, wiping the counter down with a cloth and leaning forward on the surface with her elbows. “Yet I still have no idea what his name is.”

“He’s a writer?” Betty guessed, trying her best to conceal the interest that had seemed to pop up in her voice.

“Yeah, some kind of hotshot news editor by the looks of it,” Polly explained, pushing off the counter and bending down to fix an out-of-place pastry in the display case.

“Interesting,” Betty muttered, turning back to the door and looking out the window intently. “I wonder if - uh oh.”

An object on the floor in front of the welcome mat caught Betty’s attention, and she hurried over to investigate.

“What is it?” Polly asked, her brows furrowing together as she took in the old journal that her sister was gently holding in her hands.

“Looks like Cinder-editor left his notebook behind,” Betty concluded, holding up the journal for Polly to see.  

“Well, hurry, go track him down before he turns into a pumpkin!” Polly joked, gesturing to the door and ushering for her to leave.

Betty knew that there was no way he would still be around, but she also knew that she had to take a chance. Pushing through the front door, Betty hurried out onto the streets, searching both ways for any sign of the journal’s owner. Spotting the same old beanie that she remembered seeing the man wearing at the end of the sidewalk one street over, Betty moved quickly to catch up to him.

“Wait!” she called out to him, but he was already joining the crowd of people in front of him and crossing the street. “Wait, you forgot you’re-”

With all the chaos happening around her, Betty got swept up into a group of school kids heading to their bus stop and ran straight into a woman walking her poodle in the opposite direction.

“Watch where you’re going!” the woman snapped, glancing back at Betty to glare at her before heading into the apartment building behind them.  

“Ow, why does that keep happening to me?” Betty rubbed her shoulder, standing on her tiptoes to see if she could spot the beanie again, but it was nowhere to be found.

Glancing down at the journal in her hands, a thought crossed her mind that she knew was unethical, but kept popping back up to the forefront the longer she stared at its worn cover.

“Betty, don’t read it, that would be an invasion of privacy,” she muttered to herself, quickly shaking the thought from her mind and tucking the journal safely under her arm. “But then again, maybe he has his name written somewhere in the front cover. I mean, how else am I going to get this back to him if I don’t know his name?”

Betty slowly slipped the journal back into her hands, glancing behind her shoulder in case anyone passing her on the street could tell how much of a snoop she was being.

“Oh, what the heck,” she conceded, flipping open the book to check for a name. Written in thick letters were the words: Property of Forsythe Pendleton Jones III and scribbled underneath it in tinier, childlike handwriting was the name Jughead.

“Odd,” Betty mumbled, thinking about how strange the name Jughead sounded in her mind. Yet, there was a familiarity to it that made it seem ordinary somehow. Like it was the most common, natural-sounding name she had ever heard.

Having found the name she was hoping to find, Betty prepared her hands to close the journal and head back to her sister’s coffee shop. But before she could follow through, and even though she could never explain it, something stopped her. It was as if there was a pull in the universe causing her eyes to wander over to the next page and read the story that was scribbled carelessly onto the white paper.

“No way,” Betty breathed, letting the words sink in as she flipped to the next page. After reading several entries all about the same girl, Betty slammed the journal and sprinted back to the coffee shop.

“Polly!” she exclaimed as she threw open the door, dodging several customers as she made her way back to the counter.

“What?” Polly’s eyes went wide as she took in her sister, all wild eyes and heavy breathing. “Did you give that guy his journal back?”

“Not yet,” Betty admitted, her breath coming in heavy spurts as she tried to slow her heart rate. “But I was looking through it and-”

“You read it?” Polly gasped. “Elizabeth Cooper, you should be ashamed.”

“I know, I know, but listen to this,” Betty opened to a random page in the journal and started to read the man’s words that had made her heart lurch in her throat.

“’She wanted to shape young minds. To show them that there was a place for them in the world that was better than what they might have seen in the past. And while she was never quite sure of her ability to succeed, she was positive in her ability to teach them that they could.’”

“Okay, that’s beautiful and all, but I’m not really sure I’m getting your point,” Polly told her, tossing a rag over her shoulder and leaning against the counter.

“This entry, and every entry after that, they’re all describing this girl,” Betty explained, holding out the journal for her sister to see. “But the way he writes about her - it never seems like she’s someone that he knows. She’s just this person that exists in this journal but not in real life except-”

“Except?”

“Except I think that she does,” Betty concluded. “And I think that I’m her.”

“Betty, you realize you sound psychotic correct?” Polly threw the rag at her sister, who lunged forward to catch it at the exact wrong moment and let the piece of cloth fall to the floor.

“I know how it sounds, but do you remember that story I wrote for English class in the tenth grade?” Betty asked, bending down to scoop up the rag and set it on the counter. “The one that mom hated?”

“Yeah, it was that piece about the boy who’s father was never around because he was some sort of drug dealer or something. And then he gave the boy a present for his birthday that changed his life before he left town for good and never came back,” Polly recounted the story and looked up to raise her eyebrows at Betty as if to say, ‘so what?’ “Yeah, I remember. Why?”

“Read this,” Betty shoved the journal in Polly’s direction and pointed to the description on the back cover. Rolling her eyes, Polly quickly read about how the owner of the journal got that very book from his father on his sixteenth birthday and then never saw him again after that day.

“It has to be some sort of coincidence,” Polly concluded, shutting the journal and handing it back to Betty.

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Betty whispered, running her fingers along the etchings on the front cover. “I think that I was writing about this man - Jughead - and I think that he was writing about me.”

“That’s insane, Betty, you don’t even know each other,” Polly reminded her.

“I know that,” Betty sighed. “But I think that this is a sign - finding this journal, meeting him today - I think that I was meant to know him.”

“Okay, let’s say that’s true,” Polly cautiously gave in, folding her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at Betty. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to find him,” Betty declared, grabbing her purse from the stool she had left it on and shoved the journal safely inside. “And then he’s going to explain to me how he’s been writing about me for eight years when I only just met him this morning.”

Before her sister could protest, Betty headed out the door and made her way to the only newsroom in town, determined to find the man who owned the journal. The man who, she knew in her heart, she was meant to know. And the man who was about to change her entire world.

[loopy-atla-fanfic]

Samsara - Chapter 2

Rating: T

Characters: Mai, Zuko, Ty Lee, Azula

Story Warnings: Ableism, Suicidal Thoughts

Chapter Warnings: Brief suicidal thoughts

Written for Maiko Week 2017

EPOCH 2

"Come on, Mai. It's time to embrace the day! Hey, that rhymed."

Oh, no. Not again.

Mai sat up to find Ty Lee already having lifted one of her feet onto the far end of the mattress, no doubt in preparation for the daily (so to speak) act of bounce-based terrorism. Mai quickly crawled over and grabbed her friend by the shoulders. "Today is the Day of Black Sun, isn't it?"

Ty Lee nodded. "You must be excited. That's the fastest I've ever seen you wake up before noon."

Ashes.

Ashes.

Dragon-pooped, First Flame flickering ashes!

It wasn't prophetic dreams. It wasn't weird subconscious collating of information.

Mai was trapped in the Day of Black Sun.

Great. How had she gone and gotten herself cursed?

(She was also greatly disappointed that curses were real. What next? Auras, the Kemurikage, and Tonyan the Gift-Flinger?)

With a sigh, Mai let go of Ty Lee and got out of bed. She took a step towards her clothes-

-and then stopped. What was she doing? Was she really going to go through it all again? What would be the point? She should be finding a way to end this curse! The whole plan for the invasion would happen without her. She'd just be stuck somewhere all day while Zuko-

Zuko.

Hmmmmm.

Mai began to make plans. (This took a moment of thought, because she was so out of practice.) Just how much of this day she was stuck with, and how much of this day she could change? She felt a smile twist her lips as she used the skills that made her such a dangerous warrior: she identified a target, plotted an intercept, and set about cutting through the troubles of life with grace and efficiency. If the metaphorical cutting went well, she might not have to do any literal cutting. She turned to Ty Lee. "Forty-seven minutes to Azula's dawn briefing, right?" She didn't wait for a response before grabbing her clothes and ducking into the bathroom.

Exactly forty-six minutes later, Mai and Ty Lee arrived to hear Azula once again proclaim, "Ah, girls, right on time."

Instead of complaining about the early hour, the impoliteness of invading rebels, or the possibility that Azula's mental problems were the result of royal inbreeding, Mai just bowed her head and waited.

Seeming quite pleased to be alive on a day when resistance would be ruthlessly crushed beneath her heel, Azula turned to her big ol' map on its fancy stand and pointed to a bright red mark near the center of the Caldera. " Now, you and Ty Lee will take command of 'Operation: Springback' here in the Capital Temple. You will be my coiled spring, hiding within the temple, and attack only when rebel forces enter the grounds in significant number. The Earth King's original plan called out our temple as a possible fallback point, but if they try, they will once again find that I have cut off their every chance to survive. Are you clear on your mission?" Mai bowed her head again. "Yes, princess."

"Excellent! Be sure to stop by the Royal Kitchens before you go, and get something to eat from the buffet. The rations being distributed to the soldiers are rather plain."

Well, the briefing had gone about as well as it could have, in Mai's opinion. She had even been invited to the buffet without having to seem dangerously unstable.

It was unfortunate that she was feeling too nervous to have anything more than a cup of tea and a biscuit.

Mai’s stomach continued to twist as she and Ty Lee started out to the temple, and she waited until the front gate came into view before she said, "Oops, I just realized I forgot my lucky razor disc. I need to go back home and get it."

Ty Lee frowned. "Since when do you have a lucky anything? I gave you lucky seashell years ago but you thr-"

"Since now. You head into the temple and get set up. The commanding officer is Corporal Lee, and he's very eager to impress today." Before any further objections could be aired, Mai turned and sprinted back down the lane towards her house. She once again eschewed the front doors and climbed up to her bedroom window, but this time, as she stood on the divan, she found the foot of her bed mercifully free of heart-breaking 'Dear Mai' letters.

Good. She was on time.

She hopped down off the divan, and crouched behind it. She had no intention of catching up to Ty Lee at all today, but that didn't mean she was giving up on the idea of springing an ambush. She just wasn't going to be ambushing any rebels.

Instead, she'd be ambushing a stupid ex-boyfriend. Or soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. Or soon-to-be-ex-who-she-could-hopefully-convince-not-to-be-an-ex-boyfriend? Zuko technically still her boyfriend, on account not having left the note yet today, right? And if she stopped him here, and this was the last repetition, could his breaking up with her be said to happen?

Well, Mai had discovered a path to madness, if she ever wanted to take it: just think about how time worked in a cursed loop, and goodbye sanity.

Turning her away from that path for now, a little voice in the back of her head, near where most of her gorgeous shining hair was tied, asked why exactly she expected this to be the last time?

Simple, the front of Mai's mind answered. Once we stop Zuko from leaving, we'll get a Fire Sage to do a purification ritual, or whatever, and then time will go back to flowing normally with our boyfriend safely in place. No problem.

Oh, the back corner of Mai's mind replied. Well, if you have it all figured out, then by all means, go ahead and-

Footsteps sounded somewhere in the house.

Mai tensed.

The steps grew closer, grew louder.

They were right outside the room.

They were in the room.

Then Zuko said, "I'm sorry, Mai."

And she sprang up from behind the divan. "Sorry for what?"

Zuko startled, whipping his head around to stare at her with wide eyes. (Well, one wide eye and one permanently squinting eye.) "What are you- were you hiding behind- why were you- what?"

Mai snorted. "Eloquent as always. What are you sorry for?"

Zuko remained frozen for another moment, and then seemed to deflate. All tension left his body, and his gaze fell to the floor at the same pace as the rolled paper that he let fall from his hands. "I'm sorry for everything."

Well, that was a pretty good start. He had everything to be sorry for. "You're leaving."

He nodded. "I thought you'd be out getting ready for the invasion."

"I was. But I-" Knew what was going to happen? Had come home twice now to find a stupid note and was getting thoroughly sick of it? "-had a feeling about you."

Zuko shrugged. "Well, at least I can say goodbye in person."

"Then why bother with a note at all?" Mai stepped out from behind the divan, keeping her pace slow as she drifted to put herself between Zuko and the door. "I slept over in the palace. You could have caught me any time this morning."

Zuko finally looked up at her. "I couldn’t decide my course. I was already dressed for battle in my armor when I finally made my choice. Trying to catch you would have risked getting caught by Azula. And I thought you might stab me."

"Fair point. Well, you're caught, now. Is there anything you want to say?"

Zuko inhaled, and in doing so seemed to draw in strength once again. His back went straight and a little of that Royal Grace that Azula so effortlessly displayed came into his limbs. Mai had never seen him stand like that, and she had to stop herself being distracted by the sight as he said, "I have to stop him. My father. I can't let him destroy the world."

Meh. Of course he would lead with talking about boring politics. "Really? You're standing in my bedroom with a break-up letter, and you want to talk about destroying the world? What about me? Don't you have anything to say about- about us?"

Zuko scowled. "But this isn't about you! This is about the Fire Nation, about-"

"Junk I don't care about!" Mai crossed her arms over her chest. "Who cares if your father is going to destroy the Earth Kingdom? That means the Fire Nation wins, and we can stop worrying about anything but ourselves! Yeah, it's a shame people have to die or whatever, but that's what happens in a war. This will probably save Fire Nation lives."

Zuko blinked at her. "That- that isn't winning! Think about all those people who will be hurt- people who just want to work their farms or clean up their neighborhoods or- or- or just live. There's no honor in making them suffer! We'd be destroying our nation if we let it happen! I'd be destroying myself."

"Oh, Zuko." Mai put all of her effort into trying to smile, but she wasn't sure if it was working. Nevertheless, she kept trying, and peered out at Zuko from beneath her fringe of hair in that way that usually made him squirm. "Yes, we have to do hard things to win a war, and part of what I like about you is that you actually managed to get to adulthood and still feel things for other people. It's different. And cute. You can be sad about it if you need to. Good thing I know how to cheer you up." She stepped up to him, reaching out around his shoulders, and pulled him close.

Then she leaned forward and kissed him.

She put all of her strength, all of her heat, all of herself into that kiss, into showing Zuko was he would be throwing away if he continued with his ridiculous plan. She felt his arms slide up her sides, felt his strong but gentle hands clasp her body-

-and then he pulled her away. "I can't ignore this anymore," he said. His voice was quiet and his eyes were wet. "I'm sorry. But even if I stayed, I wouldn't be able to give you the love you deserve. It would die with the Earth Kingdom. With the Avatar."

What? Why would his love die with people other than her?

He stepped back and let go of her. "Goodbye, Mai."

He moved to walk around her-

-and Mai pulled a needle from her sleeve. If he wasn't going to stay by choice, then pinning him to the wall was certainly a solution. She'd apologize later, perhaps while wearing that shoulder-baring dress he liked so much-

But as she moved to throw, Zuko pivoted and threw himself towards the divan. Even as Mai was lining up her next shot, Zuko rolled behind the furniture, cutting him off from view.

How dare he expect her to attack him!

Just because she was going to do it didn't mean he should distrust her like that!

Mai moved to see around the divan, planning to nail Zuko to the floor if needed, but there was another blur of motion and then Zuko was dashing towards the window and jumping-

-Mai threw her needle and then a backup razor disc-

-Zuko went sailing out of the window head-first as her blades sank into the window frame right next to him-

-and then he was gone.

Mai stood there for a moment, unable to believe he was really that stupid (Why not, given everything else?), but then she heard the sound of Firebending, and rushed over to the window to find him landing safely in the street with the last flickers of flames dying in the air to mark his path. He ran towards the palace, but then skidded to a halt.

He turned and looked back up at her.

Mai met his gaze.

Then he turned and started running away from the palace, down a street that would take him away from the expected path of the invaders. He was lost to sight.

Come to think of it, there were echoes in the air that might have been the sounds of warfare down at the harbor. The invasion must have just started.

And Zuko was gone. Again. Sort of.

Mai's first instinct was to run after him. He had a head start, but she was quicker in a straight dash, so maybe if she guessed right about his path she could-

Wait.

Why bother?

Why not just try again tomorrow?

After all, there was no tomorrow today. Why would there be a tomorrow, tomorrow?

So Mai packed herself a lunch, went back up to that little isolated spot on the caldera's rim- the one with so many memories of Zuko- and spent the rest of the day watching the war. This time, she got there early enough to see the harbor gate fall to the invaders, and then she sarcastically cheered them on as they rushed to get into the city before the eclipse started. She even spotted what looked like the Avatar's Waterbender helping a wounded warrior hobble his way up the side of the volcano. Mai waved at them, but they didn't notice her.

The most amusing part was when the eclipse ended, and Azula's airships rose up, and the invaders all ran like little lemurs scattering before a komodo rhino. Sadly, it was fairly boring after that, nothing to see but prisoners being arrested and dragged away while the clean-up crews began wondering how to deal with the giant boulders left lying around by impolite Earthbender soldiers.

She started to drift off.

At one point, Mai might have heard something like Ty Lee calling her name. Ty Lee sounded very upset. Maybe she thought Mai had died during the invasion. That was kind of funny. Mai gave a little giggle as sleep began to fully overtake her, but before she lost consciousness, she mumbled, "See you tomorrow."

"Come on, Mai. It's time to embrace the day! Hey, that rhymed."

Mai's eyes snapped open, and she got out of bed with a smile.

She knew exactly what to do.

Exchange some early morning banter with Ty Lee, politely breeze through Azula's redundant briefing, beg off going to the temple so that she could double back to her house, wait behind the divan for Zuko, spring up and point at him when he said-

"I'm sorry, Mai."

"You should be!" She didn't wait for him to get over his surprise before she continued, "This isn't the way! If destroying the Earth Kingdom is such a problem for you, then let's work on it! It's not going to happen today!" Something about her own phrasing amused her, and she let out a small laugh. "By that logic, it might not happen at all."

Zuko stared at her.

Mai shook her head and focused again on the problem at hand. "My point is that making yourself into a traitor and wanted criminal isn't going to accomplish anything! Stay here. With me. We can talk to Azula, or your father, and find some other way to win the war."

Zuko finally moved, slumping (again) and shaking his head. "How can you be smart enough to know I'd come here, and still believe that Azula or Father will listen to me? They don't want another way to win the war. That's why I have to leave. The Fire Nation is rotting from the very top, and only by siding with the Avatar can I start to heal everything. I plan to free my uncle, and-"

"That old gasbag?!"

"He should be Fire Lord! Not my father!"

Mai didn't quite know what to say to that. She wasn't very practiced at discussing whether or not the absolute ruler of her nation should be the absolute ruler of her nation. That was the kind of thing that could put Azula in a remarkably bad mood, and Mai had a talent for judging when to stop just short of that line.

That, at least, gave her an idea of how to respond. "Zuko, you're going to get yourself killed."

He didn't seem especially put out by the idea. "I have to live my life with honor, wherever it takes me."

"That's all it is with you." Mai began walking, this time angling to put herself close enough to both the door and the windows so that she'd have a clear angle no matter which he tried to escape through. "It's always about 'me.' Don't you think other people might care if you die?"

Zuko blinked. "Not many, no." Something must have occurred to him, because his eyes went wide, and then he looked at her with the true light of fire in his face. "But if you care that much, then come with me! We can free Uncle, and then help the Avatar save the Earth Kingdom."

Betray her nation?! Betray Azula?! Risk a prolonged, painful death, probably involving hot coals, and almost certainly involving one of those pointy, multi-pronged metal devices with terrifyingly mysterious purposes?!

Mai considered the point rationally. Considered the abstract idea of Zuko getting himself killed with his idiocy.

"No," she said.

Zuko closed his eyes and lowered his head.

Mai had to admit that she felt kind of rotten.

Then Zuko threw his arms out and sent a wave of flaming expending across her bedroom. She reflexively dodged behind the divan, pulling some of her throwing razors from her sleeves, and by the time she realized that she'd been tricked, Zuko was already out the window.

Ash.

Well, if he wanted to play dirty, then she could, too.

Zuko stepped into her bedroom, and came to an abrupt halt when he saw her.

-saw her lying on her bed, in that off-the-shoulder dress he liked so much, with the skirt much shortened since he had seen it last.

Mai brushed her loose hair from her eyes, smiled, and said, "Hello, lover."

Zuko stared.

He stared some more.

He put the rolled paper on the floor in the doorway, and then turned and ran.

Mai decided to be offended.

This time, Mai just sat at the foot of her bed (fully dressed), staring at the floor. She didn't care if he saw her. She was tired of this.

He stopped short again when he saw her, but this time, he came into the room. "Mai? What are you doing here?"

She didn't bother meeting his gaze. "Zuko, why aren't I enough? Haven't I tried? Don't I make you happy? What about the rest of the world makes it more important than me?"

He was silent for a long moment. Then he came over and sat on the bed next to her. He put his arm around her, and her every instinct was to lean against him and take comfort in his warmth, but she was also mad at him and so made herself resist.

He said, "I've seen the world, and it's not just this big thing that's somewhere else. It's everywhere. It's right here. It's every person out there who's living and working and trying to be happy. I- I don't think I can be happy until they are, too."

Mai snorted. "Then you'll never be happy."

She thought that was a witty point, but he nodded with no surprise or hesitation. "I know."

She shook her head. "I don't think I'm capable of self-sacrifice. Not for other people. Not even- I think- for you."

"But you-"

"Being a supportive girlfriend doesn't count. That was small stuff. You're talking about giving up your life if you have to." She turned and looked him straight in the eyes. "Do you really think I'm capable of giving everything up for someone else? Think about it. Tell me the truth."

His scarred gaze searched hers. Was he simply examining her face, looking at the mask she had turned herself into for some sign of the heart he wanted her to have? Or was he trying to look past the mask, through her dull eyes to the spirit energies within her body, tasting her shadows?

He leaned back. "I guess not."

He stood and walked away.

This time, Mai didn't try to stop him.

"Come on, Mai. It's time to embrace the day! Hey, that rhymed."

Mai sighed and sat up. She wasn't feeling up for another go at Zuko. What more could she say to him? It wasn't just that she had failed to convince him not to try to save the world; she was becoming convinced that she simply didn't have the skill, worldview, or wisdom to talk him down. She, herself, was inadequate to the task. She might have an infinite number of chances, but she had lost the struggle a long time ago.

Well, nothing said she couldn't take a break. Maybe there was something else she could look into?

And then it came to her. "Tell Azula that I'm sick." She grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom. "I'm going to see a healer. Give my regards to Colonel Lee and the rest."

Ty Lee's head tilted. "Who?"

Of course, the city's healers had been evacuated with the rest of the citizenry, but there were combat medics aplenty, and Mai was able to find a woman on her way to the harbor who was willing to give her a check-up.

Sadly, finding a female medic who believed in curses was a bit harder. "You say you're suffering from what? Uh, my lady?"

Mai resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "I'm reliving the same day over and over. Every day I wake up and it's the Day of Black Sun. I can tell you exactly how the battle will play out, minute by minute, to prove myself."

"Well, uh, I guess it can't hurt to have you write it all down."

So Mai did.

Several hours, multiple skirmishes, two armies, and one eclipse later, the same medic was scratching her hair. "It's the craziest thing, but I guess you're right. Do you, uh, know how you got cursed?"

Mai shrugged. "I'm a bit free with my blasphemies, but that hasn't been a problem up to now."

"Well, I can do a quick check-up, but you might be better off with a sage."

After a session of poking, prodding, and saying, "Ahhhh," more times than had to be strictly necessary, the healer brought Mai to temple, where the sages had just returned. They listened to her story with obvious disdain, showed a bit more interest when the medic vouched that something had given Mai some kind of prophetic insight, and then got positively giddy when they were given permission to do whatever tests they needed to determine the nature of the curse.

(Although, Mai limited the amount of poking, prodding, and "Ahhh"-ing that would be conducted. The sages were all men, after all.)

By the time Azula dropped by in a fume to ask if Mai knew anything about Zuko running away to marry the Avatar, it had been unquestionably established that the most revered Fire Sages in the Homeland were all nincompoops. They had no idea what kind of curse she might have, or how to undo it. They had never even heard of a curse that trapped a person in an endless loop of a single day.

"You're a hypochondriac and Zuko is a traitor," Azula snarled on the way back to the palace. "I can't rely on anyone!"

Mai thought about that. "And if I had come to you before he had left? Told you what he was planning?"

Azula's head turned slowly, and her gaze was entirely reptilian. "Then today would have played out very differently."

Huh. You don't say.

"Zuko's planning on running away and joining the Avatar."

Azula froze halfway through her turn to the big map on its fancy stand, her finger already extending to point to the temple. She blinked exactly once and then said, "What?"

Mai shrugged. "I thought you'd want to know that before you began your briefing."

Azula stared at her.

Ty Lee leaned forward. "Did I miss something? I don't even think Zuko is up yet. Or is this why you got in so late last night?"

Azula's eyes narrowed. "Zuko admitted a desire to commit treason, and you decided to sleep on it?"

Mai sighed. "Never mind. Bad joke."

"Zuko's planning on running away and joining the Avatar."

Azula froze in the middle of directing her Dai Li goons on where to hide, her finger already extending up to the cave-chamber's rafters. Of course, the princess couldn’t just set a trap for any invaders who managed to find their way to the secret bunker underneath the palace; she had to organize the trap for maximum drama.

Azula’s attention, however, was no longer on her trap. "What?"

Mai shrugged. "I was at the temple when I figured out some references he made during our last conversation. I just thought you'd want to know before he can get away."

Azula was still for only a moment longer. Then she snapped a hand signal to the Dai Li, nodded at Mai in a clear 'you better follow me if you know what's good for you and here's a hint: getting killed by me would not be good for you' signal, and stalked out of the chamber. The princess led the way up out of the underground bunker to emerge through the secret passage into the palace itself.

They caught Zuko just was he was emerging from his bedroom, the break-up note rolled and tied in his hand.

He dropped it when the first attack came.

At a motion from Azula, the Dai Li shot their weird rock-gloves at Zuko, pinning him to the nearest wall by his wrists and ankles in a move that reminded Mai uncomfortably of her own style. Why was Zuko so good at dodging her needles, but he got hit so easily by this?

She stood apart from the proceedings, allowing this to remain between the royal siblings (and their personal subcontractors). She watched as Zuko struggled and Azula stepped forward to pick up the dropped note. The princess unfurled and read it silently, then tossed it over her shoulder to Mai.

Mai didn't bother reading it. She already knew what it said, and didn't want to get mad all over again. Azula was already bringing more than her share of madness (both kinds!) to this situation already.

"So ungrateful," Azula hissed to Zuko. "After everything I've done for you, you're just going to throw this life away and embrace an existence of failure?"

Zuko turned his gaze to Mai, but she kept her face free of expression in a clear 'Who, me? I just work here!' statement. Zuko looked back to Azula. "You've done nothing for me that hasn't also benefitted yourself. I'm finally just doing what's right."

"Of course you are." Azula turned to Mai and smiled. "Thank you for reporting this to me. I'll be sure that my father knows you deserve all the credit. It's good to know that you understand your true loyalties."

Mai was starting to think that applying Azula's specific skills to the problem of Zuko might not have been the best choice. Certainly, that seemed to be the idea behind Zuko's heart-wrenching expression of hurt, and it was making a compelling argument.

Well, he had betrayed her first. At least now he wouldn't be running off to become a doomed fugitive.

He was still staring at her when the Royal Crimson Guard arrived and wrapped him in chains to be led away.

Mai took advantage of the following commotion (Azula made a grand pronouncement out of, "Bring him to my father. The Fire Lord will have the final say about his fate, and I need to get into position in case our invaders make it this far.") to slink away. She ducked into Zuko's bedroom and went over to the windows. This high up in the palace's tower, she could see the whole Caldera settlement. It was still and empty now, but the distant echoes of warfare had started. The invaders must have landed at the harbor.

Maybe she could just hide out here for the rest of the day. Certainly, no one would be using Zuko's bedroom for a while. It was some time before the rebels would crest the volcano's rim and put on a show, so she explored all that Zuko had left behind, at least in terms of physical possessions and not all those pesky emotional sensations that had her stomaching clenching.

Of course, Mai was already familiar with Zuko's room, but she soon turned up something new. An inked portrait of his mother, the Princess Ursa, had been propped up on a shelf at the foot of his bed. It was the first image of the woman that Mai had seen since her mysterious disappearance. The unspoken word was that speaking word of Princess Ursa would result in a lot more than just harsh words, both spoken and unspoken, and so the matter had been ignored for years by all and sundry. Mai herself had no personal feelings about Zuko and Azula's mother, nor much interaction with her beyond the time Mai upchucked after eating an ant-worm on a dare by Azula and Ursa had helped clean her up.

Zuko's picture contained much more grace and serenity than Mai remembered, but perhaps that was just because she usually saw Ursa only when caught between Zuko and Azula.

Still, the picture wasn't that interesting. Mai wound up dozing on Zuko's bed until she was startled awake by the sound of someone- perhaps a young boy- shouting from the lower floors of the palace. She sneaked over to close and lock the room's door, but made note that the palace had been infiltrated just before the true invasion was supposed to begin.

And, judging by the youth of the voice, perhaps it was the Avatar himself. And here Zuko was trying to run away to join the kid.

Except Zuko wasn't getting away this time.

When the fighting finally reached the Caldera, with the eclipse starting above everyone's heads, Mai found that she had a new perspective on the action. Previously, she had been behind the invader's push, watching from the volcano rim like a neutral observer. Now, the invaders were pushing towards her, and she had to admit it was a bit more intimidating from this angle.

Mai saw the Home Guard soldiers move to oppose the invaders, and either get cut down or quickly captured for their trouble. She was a lot closer to the action, this time, and didn't find it quite so amusing.

She thought she spotted one person- wearing the hat of one of the army's runners- jogging down a lane just east of the garden park where she, Ty Lee, and Azula had frequently played as children. The runner seemed to be on a good route that would circumvent the fighting, but on the complete other side of the park, one of the fighting Earthbenders pulled a large rock from the street and shot it at an attacking swordsman. The rock missed its target, but flew more than fast enough to cross the park.

And then the rock and the runner worked together to illustrate a rather extreme, fatal example of bad luck.

The runner was crushed with a suddenness that might have been funny, if Mai was in a mood to laugh.

It turned out that she wasn't.

In fact, she herself felt like she had a big rock on top of her.

So she simply watched as the rebels surrounded the palace to wait for a victory that wouldn't come.

Then the eclipse passed, the Avatar returned to his army on his (armored!) sky bison, and the whole group decided to take their toys and go home if the Fire Nation wasn't going to fight fairly.

Soon enough, Mai was alone again.

The sun was setting when Azula found her.

"Ah, here you are," the princess said as she stepped into the bedroom. "I would be disappointed that you didn't return to handle Operation Springback, but it turned out that the invaders bypassed the temple completely, and you've already done a great service to our nation today."

Mai would have expected more gloating, more honey, in Azula's voice, but the princess was being surprisingly monotone. Nor was there any smile, not even the hint of an evil smirk, on her face.

Mai felt the urge to vomit and hadn't even eaten any ant-worms. "What happened to Zuko?"

Azula blinked once. Twice. There was no expression on her face; it was like she was using at as a mask, just like Mai did. "Why, I had him brought to Father, of course! It's not like I could hide such an act of treason."

Mai stepped forward. "Where is Zuko now?"

Azula giggled without smiling, a high-pitched sound as sharp as broken glass. "Where do you think? The one thing Father will not tolerate is disobedience. That's why he scarred poor Zuzu! Father told him to get up and fight and Zuzu just cried!"

"Azula." Mai mentally counted every single blade strapped to her body. "Tell me what happened to Zuko. Now."

"Watch your tone." There was no strength in Azula's voice. "It's up to us, now. We need to be strong. We need to be united. Father's going to be giving us his full attention."

"Azula-"

"Zuzu is dead!" Azula's screech echoed off the walls. Her face finally had some expression on it, but whether it was born of anger or joy or fear was impossible to tell. "He's dead and it's just us, now! Behave, or I'll send you to join him!"

Oh.

Oh, no.

This-

Mai didn't mean to-

This wasn't-

Fine. So much for this idea. "I see. Thank you for telling me."

Azula let out a ragged breath and nodded. "Okay."

Mai nodded back. "Okay."

Then she threw a razor disc into Azula's throat.

She had aimed for flesh before- she had tried to throw blades at the faces of both the Avatar and his pet Waterbender back in Omashu- but had never actually hit it before. Perhaps it was the short range, this time, or perhaps Azula wasn't quite on her game.

Maybe- just maybe- Azula had known it was coming, and wanted it.

Or it could be that Mai just wanted this hit to land more than any other she had thrown before.

Whatever had led up to it, the princess was crumbled on the floor now in a growing pool of her own blood, and any last words she might have had were lost in all the bubbling.

Mai's stomach clenched. She'd seen blood and death before, but had never smelled it, nor seen it on a familiar face.

Her hands were shaking.

She'd killed.

Not that it counted, of course. Tomorrow, it would be the Day of Black Sun again, and Zuko and Azula would both be alive and well.

But Mai couldn't think of a better way to end this day.

She didn't have to wait long for the guards, and they played their part admirably, charging her with spears as soon as they saw the scene. One might have accused them of jumping to conclusions on entirely circumstantial evidence, but then, she was standing over the bloody body of their princess, while holding what could be called a threatening display of sharp objects.

Mai's shaking hands didn't make her last stand last very long, and within seconds she had another new experience: the feel of metal spearheads punching into her flesh and tearing her innards. There was no experience that could have prepared Mai for the feeling of having her life leak out through ragged holes in her torso. So this was what it felt like to be Zuko- to be Azula- to die-

Wait.

This wouldn't end the cycle of days, would it?

"Come on, Mai. It's time to embrace the day! Hey, that rhymed."

Huh.

So even being killed wouldn't stop it.

A little part of her had expected that. After all, that would be too easy. Did the same go for death by her own hand?

That felt like too much work to explore, right now.

So she didn't move. Even when Ty Lee started bouncing on the far end of the bed, she remained lying underneath the covers. Even when Ty Lee crawled over and started shaking her, she let herself flop in her friend's grip, and fell back down to the mattress when released.

At some point, she began crying silently.

Ty Lee left. Then Ty Lee returned with Azula. More words and attempts to get her out of bed followed. More of her tears moistened the sheets.

Eventually, a guard was called to bundle her up in the bedding and cart her away. She was carried out of the palace, out into the daylight, and then into some underground space.

Eventually she was dumped on the floor of a large room filled with people, where the light was dim and the air was a humid funk. Somewhere nearby, a woman was screeching about how she couldn't stay here, that the ceiling was coming down on her, that she was being crushed by all the people, and she had to get out get out GET OUT.

Mai agreed, but remained on the floor, crying silently to herself.

There was no getting out of some prisons.

The day passed.

As did another.

And another.

And another.

TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW

Eventually, even complete despair becomes boring, and if there's anything Mai absolutely could not tolerate, it was boredom.