#he better not be looking at that never at fault red chili man

[raekiastri]

EX FUCKING CUSE ME

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Obbligato (Chapter Seven)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Off to the races with no time for nights gone wrong. Being at a wit's end deserves a reward, one of teasing breaths and words, adding to the stories the hallway could tell. Vulnerable words pinned to the wall and kissing it all better.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 7187

***

The morning was awkward, to say the least. Y/n had woken up first and before she could even look at the man beside her, her phone started ringing, management was calling. So she was off to work. No time for the thoughts that were still running around in her mind. No time to process.

They didn’t get to talk, she and Damiano. Both of them were hurrying to get packed up and get the others woken up to then get to the airport. It seemed impossible to find a quiet minute with just the two of them, some privacy, some peace of mind. The call from that morning was their manager, who had already been up for two hours ranting about some of the changes that needed to be made. Today it was going from zero to one hundred with no end in sight.

She had hoped things would calm down as they reached the airport, but chaos seemed to follow wherever they went. It started with Victoria panicking because she couldn’t locate her jacket anymore - she made sure to let everyone in the greater vicinity know that it was her absolute favourite and she had worn it in Rotterdam and she could not go anywhere, much less fly to London, without it. Luckily this ended up being one of Y/n’s easiest tricks that day. After retracing their steps throughout the terminal the jacket was quickly reclaimed from a lovely barista at a café who had collected it for safekeeping.

Y/n was hoping to catch her breath for a moment, but then Chili was being an absolute nuisance. Contrary to her normally chill and relaxed state of being, she now insisted on being cuddled and petted and having all the attention on her. Unfortunately, no one’s but Y/n’s attention would do, so she was stuck with a wriggling fur ball in her arms for the foreseeable future. It didn’t help when Ethan ran up to her in a panic, having realised that his hairbrush was missing. She wanted to calm him down, explain that there were more than enough shops to get a new one in London, but apparently, there was no hairbrush quite like it as if it was the magical reason behind his shiny hair. So with a sigh and Chili pressed against her, she called the hotel in Amsterdam requesting for them to look for the missing item and please send it to London. Express. They would be there for three days and it better arrive during that time. The confused receptionist promised to do her best.

When Y/n heavily fell into her seat on the plane she was looking forward to either a quick nap or a chance to talk to Damiano, who she conveniently chose to sit next to, but all plans evaporated as soon as Thomas claimed the aisle seat, excitedly chattering away. She could tell he was looking forward to getting back to London and having some free time there on top of it, but she really didn’t need to hear the story of how they all lived there for a while yet again. Damiano sent her a pitiful look, but all she could do was shrug. Shrug, lean back, and let Thomas’ talk lure her into sleep, hopefully.

***

Luckily, the flight wasn’t as bad this time around. Y/n still held tightly to her coat on lift-off and landing, but that seemed to be the extent of her uncomfortableness. Damiano kept his eyes on her, on the bandage around her wrist, as if waiting for it to come undone and her right along with it. It didn’t happen. They touched down in London within less than an hour.

Heathrow airport was crowded with fans. For the first time on that tour, it had gotten really bad. Security managed to keep people at bay though as the band and crew made their exit, not stopping for photos and full of apologies for having to leave. The shouting, the reaching hands, and the flashing cameras seemingly did nothing to improve Y/n’s mood, Damiano thought. Her face remained neutral, but he could see the little signs underneath. A short cab ride later, and the usual busy atmosphere of arriving at a hotel for the first time engulfed them. People moving luggage, figuring out rooming arrangements, crowding the lobby. Damiano stayed out of it, smoking a quick cigarette with Thomas and Ethan outside, before heading inside as well.

Damiano didn’t notice that anything was wrong until Y/n started raising her voice. It wasn’t like her. In the past two weeks of working with her, he had encountered her in a number of stressful situations. Enough that would make him lose his mind, but she was calm and collected, the type to take a deep breath instead of shouting at someone. So the way she was currently staring down the receptionist at the hotel that they were checking into both intrigued and bothered him. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself, he got closer to the scene, fumbling with some of their luggage standing next to the desk, just to listen in more closely.

“Check again, please,” Y/n requested, politeness nothing but a necessary feature in this conversation. “I do not have the time or the patience to deal with this mistake at this current moment.”

Damiano could see she was at her wit’s end, yet the need to stay professional was obvious.

“Bloody hell... You’d think after all of today at least one thing would go well. But no, I am stuck dealing with a broken computer and missing rooms.”

The man behind the counter sent her a slightly panicky look, hands shuffling between papers and typing on the keyboard in front of him.

“I can only apologise, I will do my absolute best to rectify this mistake,” the receptionist stated, voice much less steady than Y/n’s. She shook her head slightly, pulling out her phone and starting to type something into it. Probably updating their manager on what is happening.

“I sincerely hope that this is the last of the mistakes your hotel will be committing. We’re paying good money for this hotel, but London is big and I don’t think anyone would hesitate to book us somewhere else next time if the service here doesn’t suffice.” The air around her felt like static electricity, everything was prickly and on fire. “Now, please check again and then either have the correct number of rooms waiting for us or figure out another way to solve this problem. I know this probably isn’t your fault, but this needs a solution.”

The man standing in front of them quickly understood what was being asked of him. Y/n's body had remained creepily still through this, her eyes never leaving the person in front of her.

It was over as soon as it hard started. The receptionist handed her the keys and quickly mumbled something about the rooms being on the fifth floor and to the left. Y/n nodded, not necessarily happy, but visibly glad it was over. Turning around she faced Dami with an indescribable look on her face. He couldn’t believe what just happened, and how it was handled by their assistant. Looking at her right now she was agitated, sure, but whatever power she had just possessed? Damiano wanted to see it again.

***

The band crowded into the lift, and with each ding passing a floor Damiano’s need to do something grew. Attention was an easy thing for the singer to come by. Most of the time it was freely given and even then tenfold due to - well, Damiano being Damiano. But wanting attention was different, and wanting her attention, in particular, was a relatively new concept.

“Fifth Floor,” the monotone voice announced. Y/n made quick work handing everyone their room keys until she was only hanging to her own and Damiano’s. He took his chance.

“Can I walk you to your room?”

“Sure,” she answered, but the look in her eyes told him she was a little suspicious of his actions.

As they got closer to the door Damiano saw his chance. Reassuring himself that the hallway was now deserted of his bandmates, he quickly grabbed her - healthy! - wrist, turning her around and pressing her against the wall next to the door. Her expression was one of shock and surprise as he moved in closer, keeping her wrist against the wall and trapping her between his arms as he leaned against his hand on the other side of her head. Her breathing quickened noticeably and he couldn’t suppress a grin as he watched her look into his eyes, before flickering down to his lips and back up again. There was very little doubt concerning what she was thinking about. He had her in the palm of his hand. Right where he wanted her.

“You know, seeing you getting all hot and bothered down there… Very sexy.” His voice was low and gravelly. He was doing his absolute best to get her to falter under him, not shying away from employing all the tricks in the book. He moved in even closer now, only breaking eye contact when the angle made it impossible. His mouth to her ear, not quite touching, but close enough that he was sure she could feel his breath on her skin. “I should thank you… for all the… hard work you do.”

He resisted the temptation of pushing into her, letting his body collide with hers, letting her know exactly what he was talking about. Not now, not yet, he told himself. Instead, his hand carefully let go of her wrist, travelling down her arm, her side, across her body, with the softest touch, until he reached her other hand, which was grasping tightly onto the remaining room key. In a flash, he had snatched it out of her palm, backed away from her, and with a wink and a smirk that hopefully told her all she needed to know, he turned around to make his way to his room.

“Damiano! We still need to talk!” Y/n whisper-shouted. One look at her face was enough. Her skin had turned that favorable shade of red that Damiano had grown to love so much. She was still leaning against the wall, apparently not trusting her feet to carry her just yet. As he made his way to his room he couldn’t help but notice the bubbling of pride in his chest. Whatever she wanted to talk about, he was convinced it was going to go his way.

***

There was one person in this entire world that would be able to help sort out the mess in Y/n’s head. Stepping out onto the balcony, she quickly clicked her best friend’s name. One, two rings, and the familiar face popped up on her screen with a wide smile.

“Hi, love! How- oh my god, what is wrong?” Y/n’s face had always been much too easy to read for her friends.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Y/n protested, but the way her friend raised her eyebrows let her know that she would not get away with it. “Fine, that was a lie. Couple of things have gone wrong actually. Starting with my wrist!”

Y/n held the offending body park up into view, speech getting quicker as she continued.

“Fell onto it trying to escape Damiano and a private conversation he had with Victoria that I probably shouldn’t have heard. But I did, and I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it, and it’s bothering me quite a bit actually, which is silly, because all I’m supposed to do here is my job, right? But now I think that he doesn’t want to be in the same space as me, which is a problem, to say the least, but at the same time he does? He literally just got all up in my space actually, so I don’t know what’s happening?”

“Wow okay, take a breath and start from the beginning, please.”

And so Y/n did, catching her friend up on every single detail of the past days, every little look, every single word uttered, every movement made. She didn’t spare a single detail or blush-inducing moment.

“I don’t know what to do, or think, or say. I think I know what is happening, but then he turns around and does the opposite of what I’m expecting. It's infuriating.”

“Ah yes, let me guess. He’s constantly around, whatever you do? Checkin up on your, catching your eyes, always happens to sit next to you?”

“He does… Why do I feel like everyone here knows what is going on but me?”

"Y/n, listen. You're my best friend, but you're the dumbest human being I've ever encountered. It is so obvious that he likes you, it's almost painful to hear you talk about and not realise. Look at the way he is taking care of you, the way he tries to make you laugh, how he constantly wants your attention on him - why on earth do you think he's doing that? You need to talk to him, seriously."

“But I overheard-”

"You didn't hear shit! You don't even know the context of what he said! Now listen to me: You like him. He likes you. If I'm wrong about this, I'll personally allow you to come back home and beat me up ok?" A sigh came through the line, her friend's voice getting softer. "I know the past years have been hard on you. And I know you don't like letting people in. But you've got to take a chance every now and then and Damiano sounds like he'll be worth it. From what you've told me, it sounds like he sees you exactly for what you are: brilliant, clever, caring, beautiful. Don't let this go to waste, love."

"You know I hate it when you're right. But you probably are." Y/n felt much calmer already, even though the mere thought of having that talk with Damiano made her feel slightly queasy again. "I should talk to him. My head will never stop spinning otherwise."

"Well, I love it when I'm right! So I'm hanging up right now so you can go talk to him, bye love!"

Her face disappeared from the screen in an instant.

***

“She’s right, you know? You should talk to him.” Victoria watched as Y/n almost jumped at the sound of her voice. She had concentrated so hard on whoever she was video-calling that she hadn’t noticed her enter the balcony next door. Now, Vic hadn’t meant to listen, but privacy on tour was a fickle thing and as soon as she realised what - or who - the topic of conversation was, she couldn’t help herself.

“Oh! Hi, Vic. Sorry, what?” Y/n asked, quite obviously startled. “I’m assuming you heard most of that conversation then.”

“I did. But that’s okay, please don’t worry about it. You know, I’m saying this as your friend as well as Damiano’s friend: Talk this thing out, whatever it is. We’ve all been watching you dance around each other, but one of you needs to have the guts to make a move. I know Damiano seems like a cocky know-it-all sometimes, but if you get down to it, he’s just as insecure and shy. So I think this is on you. Invite him over, order some room service, have a talk. If it goes poorly, you can always text me and I���ll come over. And help you finish the food.”

Victoria was glad to see Y/n let out a small giggle. Over the course of the whole tour, she had never seen her quite this stressed out. Sooner or later it would impact her job performance - just as it was starting to affect Damiano’s. She’d long noticed how distracted he was. It didn’t even matter whether Y/n was in the room or not, his thoughts constantly seemed to be spinning around the same thing. The same person, rather. At this point, it was in everyone’s best interest to get these two to talk it out. She trusted them to be sensible enough about it not to let it affect their work if it went wrong. At least not the way their mutual obsession with each other was doing now.

Y/n nodded.

“Thanks, Vic. What do I have to lose, right? I mean, a lot, technically, but you know. Thanks.”

Victoria watched as Y/n shot her one more worried look, before turning and getting back to her room. She made sure to shout after her just before the door closed.

“Tell me how it goes!”

***

“It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be fine, this is going to go my way, I’m going to say my part and it will all be fine,” Y/n mumbled to herself as she paced back and forth in her hotel room. Time and time again, she found herself checking her phone, needing to convince herself she had actually sent the message to Damiano, inviting him to her room for a conversation. He hadn’t replied, but the little blue check marks told her he had read it.

Okay, keep calm. You're going to have a conversation about this, like the adults that you are. You ask to clarify what you overheard and you'll stay calm, whatever his answer is. At the end of the day, this is work. And if you need to cry, you can do it once he's left. Easy.

A knock on the door interrupted her thought process. For a moment, she considered ignoring it. Pretending like she wasn’t there. But that wasn’t going to work, was it? Not forever, anyway.

“Y/n, you said you wanted to talk?” Damiano’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Time to face the music, I guess, Y/n thought to herself. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped to the side to let him in. Damiano hesitated for a second, as if contemplating how to greet her, but then simply smiled at her before stepping in. The nervous energy engulfed both of them immediately and she caught him looking around the room for a moment before deciding to take a seat at the foot of her bed. She couldn’t even think about sitting down. Instead, she was pacing the room like a caged animal.

“Um, so, I called you here for a meeting.” Y/n picked at her nails looking anywhere in the room that wasn’t at Damiano.

“A meeting? Y/n, really?” He chuckled. “If these meetings involve me visiting your hotel room, feel free to invite me over for them more often.”

“Damiano! I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Sorry, sorry, go ahead.” He waved at her to continue as he leaned back on the bed. He looked delectable, and Y/n had to actively tear her eyes away to focus on what she had meant to talk about with him.

“I overheard you and Vic talking at the second-hand shop. Something about you not wanting me around? Before I overthink this even more than I already have, I should probably ask you what that was about.” She stopped pacing and quickly looked at Damiano waiting for a reaction.

“Wait, you heard that?” He suddenly sat up again, urgency visible in his face. “Did you hear the whole thing or… only me saying that?”

“Only that apparently ‘I'm everywhere you look’ and you can’t seem to get rid of me.” She forced a scoff, although she would rather cry at the memory if she was being honest. “I know I shouldn’t have heard that conversation, but I did. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. That's why I ran out of the shop.”

She watched as Damiano buried his head in his hands, making a sound that was something between a laugh and a groan. “Seems like you missed the important part.” A deep sigh rattled through his chest as he looked up at her. “What I said before that was that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About kissing you. That’s why it’s so hard to see you everywhere, to have you around so much.” He slowly stood up, walking over to her in tentative movements. “It’s because I want to kiss you all the time.”

She took a step back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Anything to protect herself, to keep up some sort of composure. Letting her guard down too early was the worst thing she felt she could do. An expression that was both alarmed and confused flashed across her face. “You - wait … no, that's not - hold on.” She squinted her eyes at him trying to figure out if there was any hint of deception in him. “You wouldn’t lie to me… would you?”

He stood in front of her now, eyes staring her down with nothing but honesty. “I like to joke around but not with things like these, okay? I would never put you in that position. But when we accidentally kissed in Amsterdam? I wish it hadn’t been accidental at all.” His hand was reaching out to her, softly touching her arm, as if to test the waters. To see if she would pull away.

She stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity. Yet, she didn’t move away from him this time. “I’m sorry... for how I acted at the hospital. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do with you most of the time it seems.” A small smile flickered on her lips, unable to keep it at bay. “I’m sorry, I’m… not all that good at being vulnerable. In case that hadn’t become obvious yet. But I agree, you know. Kissing you should be on purpose.”

“It’s fine, it was a rough day. Now that I know what you heard, even more so for you,” he smiled back at her. His hand was wandering up her arm now, softly resting on her shoulder, just inches away from the bare skin on her neck. She was sure she could feel his warmth there already. “We’ll figure it out together, yeah? Starting with an actual kiss? On purpose?”

She blinked at him, before looking down at his chest, slowly grabbing onto the collar of his shirt. Playing the fabric between her fingers, anything to keep her nervousness under control. “Yeah, that would be good. Gotta test it out, right?” She looked back up at him, a pink tint growing across her cheeks.

“Yeah, just a test,” he mumbled, coming closer still. His hand wandered further upwards, tingling along her bare skin, before softly grabbing her neck to pull her into him. He was moving slowly, almost tormentingly so, as his breath fanned her face, eyes wandering back and forth between her own and her mouth. Her heart was beating impossibly fast now. If he wasn’t going to do anything soon, she would collapse, she was sure of it.

“Just kiss me already.”

And then his lips were on hers, soft and gentle, but with a force behind it that let her know he meant it. It was nothing like the kiss in Amsterdam. This was a kiss with purpose, long-lived desire finally being realised, feeling poured into every move they made. If this was a test, they were passing it with flying colours. Everything felt simply right. His lips against hers, his hand tangling in her hair, her arms wrapping themselves around him. Any doubt whether this was the right thing to do, whether this was what she wanted, ceased to exist. She couldn’t tell how long they were standing there, kissing, exploring, enjoying each other, but when they finally parted, she found herself catching her breath. Silly smiles painted on both of their faces. She buried her face in his chest, almost a little embarrassed now.

“That went well,” she giggled, unlike she did in Amsterdam. This high was different.

Damiano’s hand pushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear, tender touch lasting on her face a little too long, but she wouldn’t complain. He quickly pressed another needy kiss against her lips, before pulling her to sit on the bed with him. “So, now what? Not that I wasn’t enjoying that, but we should probably talk about where we’re gonna go from here.”

She nodded. “Well, work comes first. Not that I wasn’t having fun either. But, both of us know that the most important thing is you performing the best you can. I guess we go with your plan. Figure it out together. I don’t want to force anything.” Always trying to ground herself back into reality - it was the way she was built. A moment of insanity, yes, but never more. “Though, on days off… if you...” Her mouth opened but no more words came.

“I like the sound of that,” Damiano grinned, seemingly unable to stop himself from stealing another kiss from her lips. “And on days off...? Say it, Y/n, no need for shyness here.”

“Ah!” Grabbing a pillow off the bed, she smacked him playfully. “I was trying to have a semi-serious conversation here, Dami!” Her face screwed into a pout, before transforming into a teasing smile. “If you’re gonna be like that, you won’t hear my idea at all.”

He immediately let go of her, hands in the air in surrender. “Fine, woman, no more teasing from me… for now.”

She leaned in closer. “Is that a threat? Or a promise? I was gonna say we could go out on a date. But,” she shrugged, “up to you.” Standing up she walked over to the phone on the desk, picking up the room service menu with her other hand. “Do you want anything? If we are gonna figure this out, we might as well have food.” It was no secret that she was trying to create space between the two of them. A little distance, a little chance to breathe, too afraid of a fire being set ablaze if they stayed any closer.

“Whatever pizza they have, please. It won’t quite be like home but even bad pizza is still pizza.” He watched as she picked up the phone, quickly muttering some words he didn’t understand down the line. “And then come back here. We should probably talk some more.”

She nodded, quickly finishing the conversation on the line, before sitting back down on the bed next to him, backs resting against the headboard. “Alright, so, talk about what? I know there are things to discuss but, what are you thinking right now?”

“How do you want to go on about this?” He asked, taking her hand and playing with it absentmindedly. “Do you want to tell the others anything?”

“We have to tell Vic, probably. She’ll never get off our case otherwise. Apart from that... I assumed that we would sort of make up for lost time. Be a bit more open, affection-wise. Or at least not feel like we have to hide it when I wanna kiss you. I don’t want to say we are dating. I don’t want to put a label on something that's this new. Rushing into something like this is just a recipe for hurt.” She found herself staring into the distance for a moment, thoughts running away with her, before turning back to him. “Do you want to tell people? I mean if you did that would be fine. I’d manage, you know.”

“No, actually. I’m quite fine with as few people knowing as possible. I just… There’s no need to get everyone involved in something that we’re literally still figuring out ourselves, right? And I definitely don’t need the fans to know. At least not yet. If that’s okay with you?”

“Dami, you do know that, if this becomes a long-term thing... They will hate me. It won’t be just your fans either. Management, event organisers, they won’t want me there, people will tell you to break up with me all the time. There will be a lot of rude comments. People will edit me out of pictures. Because that's how it is. Are you sure you’re okay with all that? This won’t be easy and I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your success. The band's success.” She wasn’t making eye contact now, nervously picking at her nails instead. This was his chance to step back, to change his mind, and she was more afraid of it than she let on.

“Well, first of all, they can all fuck off, okay? No one gets to talk about you like that, not in front of me. If they don’t see you the way that I see you - or at least respect it-, they’re no real fans anyway.” He reached out, softly holding onto her chin and turning her face towards him. “I don’t care about anyone but you in this, okay? If anything, you’re the one pushing me to go farther, work harder, be better. Yeah?”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” Her hand went to the one holding her face, kissing his palm and then pressing it into her cheek. “I mean it though. It will be hard and confusing, and I am not that good at communicating my feelings. You could have anyone in the world and you picked me which I will never understand, but I’m thankful for it. Both of us are workaholics. It won’t just be you having a busy schedule. Are you absolutely positive? Because if not...”

Taking her face into both of his hands now, he made sure she was looking at him. “I am more than positive. I want this, I want you, I want it all. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes for you to believe that.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, warm and inviting, and she was sure she could feel every single one of his emotions in it. There was nothing but love. Coming up for air, they let their foreheads meet, a moment of unspoken agreement.

“We will do it together, yeah?” She whispered as she pressed a kiss onto his lips once again before her face broke out in a grin. “Fuckin hell… Sorry, I just realized that we can kiss and hug and everything all the time now and without it being weird.” Grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers, she rested her head on his shoulder. Both of them simply content in the silence of the room and the company of each other. After a while, Y/n looked up at him again. “Do you have any concerns though?”

“No real worries. Just... I don’t know. I just want to stare at you for a bit. Do you even know how crazy you make me? Throughout this whole tour I have been losing my mind!” His eyes flickered over her face, down her body, and back up. He kissed the top of her head. “Y/n you have no clue what you do to me. You remember when you body checked that guy into the wall in Germany?” She nodded as he lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “Cold showers did nothing for me that night.”

Giggles rattled her chest as she hid her face in her hand, feeling a slight blush coming on.

“Hey, no hiding that face from me!” Grabbing at her hands, he tried to pull them back down, but she resisted through her laughter. Desperately trying to pry her hands away, Damiano pinned her down onto the bed, back flush against the mattress, but he still wasn’t succeeding. In a last-ditch effort, he straddled her ample hips. The surprise of it all had her removing her hands on her own immediately, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Now, was that so hard?”

In one quick move, she locked her knees under his and flipped him over, making her sit on top of him. His body thudded into the mattress, jaw dropping, and a little hint of a blush appearing out of nowhere.

“Sorry love, won’t happen again,” she grinned, sending him another wink, before getting off of the stunned singer.

Y/n jumped up off the bed and started to rummage through the mini-fridge. Behind her, she heard the unmistakable sound of Damiano’s phone vibrating. And again. And again.

“What’s going on with that thing?” She asked over her shoulder, unable to hide a grin. Damiano sighed heavily, reading through the messages that seemed to keep coming.

“It’s Vic.”

“What’s she saying?”

Another buzzing sound interrupted them.

“Asking if we’re making out yet. Letting us know that she can hear us laughing. Wanting to know if we’ve fucked yet. Complaining that I’m not answering her messages.”

Damiano’s speech was, in turn, interrupted by Y/n’s phone letting out a similar buzzing noise. With a frown on her face, she gathered it from the nightstand, only to erupt into giggles at the message displayed on her screen.

“What’s so funny?”

“Vic has written, and I quote: ‘As happy as I am that this seems to be going well, I was actually looking forward to indulging in room-service food with you’ with a lot of frowny emojis added.”

Forming a fist with his hand, Damiano roughly hit the wall behind him - the one he knew connected the room to Victoria’s.

“Go get your own room service!” He shouted, and the laughter on the other side, paired with a flurry of emojis reaching both of their phones shortly after let them know she had heard.

“Oh stop it, whatever will you do without a bassist if she starves!” Y/n laughed. “Wait, how’s this.” Y/n coughed, preparing to change her voice into the best impression of Victoria she could muster. “Dami, you bastardo! Give me food!”

A knock on the door - much too polite to be Victoria’s - caught their attention, and Y/n scrambled to open it. A little wagon full of silver plates adorned with various meals greeted her. Not even caring about the confused look on the waiter’s face, she made quick work of grabbing most of what was on the tray and carrying it over to the desk, until only a few things were left.

“Would you mind bringing the rest to the woman next door? Thank you very much.”

As soon as she had closed the door behind her, she caught Damiano’s gaze, wide smile on his face.

“Whatever it takes to make Vic happy, hm?”

Y/n grinned. “Whatever it takes to get Vic to leave us alone.”

***

Y/n had no idea where she was when she woke up the next morning. It only lasted for a moment though - until it all came crashing down on her, the talk with Damiano, the kisses they'd shared, how they had spent the rest of the evening watching trash tv and stuffing themselves with food, until he had left for his own room, placing one last lingering kiss on her lips. She couldn't contain a smile at the memories. For a minute, she allowed herself to lay in bed, reminiscing about the way his mouth felt on hers and how she was now allowed to do that all the time. But work called, and the usual routine caught up with her. Getting ready for the day, re-checking the busy plan for the day, waking up the band. It was only in front of Damiano's room that she faltered a bit, before shaking it off and entering.

Damiano looked peaceful, fast asleep, the blanket only coming up to his waist. With quiet footsteps, she walked over to the bed, taking the view in for as long as she allowed herself. Her usual wake-up tricks would include pulling back curtains, gently talking, stealing blankets, a little shake if necessary. But the turn of their relationship was now providing her with new possibilities. Leaning down, she blew a bit of air against his cheek, watching as his eyelids fluttered but not quite opened yet. A little kiss followed on his cheek, just barely touching his skin. Then a kiss on his inviting lips. She almost pulled back, when a strong hand held onto the back of her head, Damiano suddenly wide awake and kissing her back.

"I could get used to these wake-up calls."

“Well, be a good boy and get dressed and you might be getting them more often,” she grinned, already halfway out the door. She knew if she didn’t leave now she probably wouldn’t for a while, and they did not have time for any delays.

“That better be a promise!” Damiano shouted after her, and she giggled, all the way back to her room, never having looked forward to a day of work quite this much.

***

The day was one of their most hectic ones yet, jumping between the hotel, the venue for soundcheck, dinner, a radio station, and back to the venue. Yet, for once, Damiano didn’t mind in the slightest. Not with the way he was now allowed to stare at Y/n all the time. No more worries about having to hide it, no more being afraid of being caught in the way his eyes kept lingering on her whenever she was nearby. Never mind the fact that he enjoyed teasing her.

He was well aware of how important her professionalism was for her, and he’d be the last person to slack off work because he was smitten. But, in the little moments in between, the waiting to go on air, the walking along a hallway, the little breaks and breathers, he simply couldn’t help himself. Especially not with the way she kept blushing and scolding him.

It was the small things. Brushing past her when he walked by. Letting his hand rest on her waist a little too long, always threatening to move lower, but never making the jump. Winking at her with the meanest smirk when the radio host asked a particularly spicy question. Texting her with the suggestion to unbutton her blouse just slightly more to keep him motivated. The latter was met with a stern look and her hands buttoning up the blouse a little more instead. Yet, throughout the day Y/n seemed to be more relaxed, while keeping up the impression of ‘everything is normal���. Well, she did the best she could when Damiano wasn’t giving her a hard time.

Victoria seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world, constantly watching the two of them and snickering to herself. When Damiano told her to mind her own business - just for once - she only became more curious. Ethan and Thomas hadn’t caught on yet. Well, Thomas definitely hadn’t. Ethan had looked at Damiano a little strangely, eyebrows raised in question, when the singer had stared at Y/n a little too long, trying to catch her attention, but he hadn’t mentioned it.

Now it was less than an hour until showtime, everyone gathered backstage, and Damiano couldn’t remember the last time he had been quite this excited to play. London being their biggest gig on this tour certainly played a part, but the butterflies in his stomach every time he laid eyes on Y/n surely did the rest.

The dressing room was a mess, clothes everywhere, stylists and make-up artists scrambling to get their work done in time, which was proven increasingly difficult as Victoria and Thomas kept starting tickle fights. Damiano was sure the crew was ready to murder them at this point. Still waiting for his own turn to get dressed up, he let his gaze wander over to Y/n, who was sitting with Ethan, the drummer patiently painting her nails black.

“There,” he concluded. “You’re becoming more like us every single day.”

Damiano watched as she held up her hands, admiring the way the colour contrasted with her skin. Walking over to her, he let his hands rest on her shoulders as he stood behind her.

“And you’re barely even flinching anymore when one of us gets naked,” he grinned, shooting a glance at Victoria, who was running away from Thomas in a shirt and panties only. He bent down to whisper in her ear. “Unless that one of us is me, I hope.”

The smack on his arm landed harder than expected, Y/n once again a blushing mess, but Damiano couldn’t help but laugh. As long as he still had that kind of hold over her, he’d gladly make use of it.

***

Y/n took her usual seat, sending smiles to the crew and band as they readied up for the show. The crowd outside was deafening already, volume only increasing when the lights were slowly starting to dim. One by one, the band members came up to her, ready to get a last wish of good luck, but Damiano made quick work of shoving them away, giggling as he reached her first. Without a word of warning, he grabbed her head, planting a deft kiss on her lips, before letting go of her with the biggest grin on his face. Her eyes closed as soon as she felt his lips on hers, an involuntary reaction to the feeling of having him close.

“Are all of us gonna get some good-luck kisses like that now?” Victoria giggled from behind them, and Y/n couldn’t help landing yet another smack on Damiano’s arm that day.

“Nope,” he replied. “Singer privileges.”

With the proudest smile on his face he finally bounced on stage. The others quickly followed and Y/n was left in her seat, shaking her head. That man was going to be the death of her, she was sure of it. They hadn’t even gone official, and he was already clouding her mind every single second of the day. She watched him as he ran around on stage, energy higher yet than all of the other shows on that tour, thinking about how he never failed to amaze her, both as a performer and as a human being all in itself. She wasn’t quite sure what the future held for them, what the rest of this tour would bring them, but as she stared at him, she decided she was going to be fine with whatever it was. Despite her anxiety about the future, he would be there. As long as she could have a piece of him, a smile, a touch, a kiss, every now and then, she was going to be fine. Right? Watching him on stage was a blessing and a curse. She was so proud of him, of the band. As much as she loved them there still left a small voice of fear. How much was she willing to let them see? Let him see? The rest of the tour was still there, but she reminded herself of what he had told her the day before in her hotel room. They would figure it out together.

***

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @rainbowmarta @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @fanfictionandfluff @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv @tryymebitch @fenhakwe @solacestyles @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree @alina-exe @cherricola66 @onlykissystyless @dannasixxworld

[mrpenguinpants]

Venti: First Meeting and Friendship HCs

First Meeting HCs

————————————————————

The god of freedom certainly lived up to the title. A truly free spirit who only wished the same for others. He shaped the many hills and cliffs of Mondstadt with his own hand, and graciously bestowed his powers unto those he deemed worthy. And yet…there he sat - teetering on the edge of a barstool, completely and utterly intoxicated.

The red-head manning the bar rolls his eyes at the sorry display the archon was creating, and resumes cleaning the glass in his hand. However as a bell rings out - signaling a new patron - he looks up.

You enter the famed “Angels Share”, the best tavern in Mondstadt - or so you’ve been told. Really, you’ll decide that for yourself - is what you think as you slide into an empty seat at the bar. Eager to unwind after a long day of adventuring, you order your drink and attempt to relax.

But really, your night didn’t end how you’d hoped at all. You ended up with a loud and incredibly clingy bard hanging off of your shoulder spouting barely comprehensible rhymes and poems. You would’ve found amusement in the spectacle if you weren’t so tired. Shrugging him off did no good, as he was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

Thankfully, you got your sweet freedom as the bartender cut him off for the night, presenting the smaller boy with the shockingly large bill. A wave of pity washes over you as his face drops at the number.

He laughs awkwardly, attempting to convince the bartender that he could pay by other means, but the stoic man only sighs, trying to explain to the drop-dead drunk bard that he cannot keep the tavern open with “songs and sonnets”.

Really you were quite done with your failed attempt at relaxation - wanting to go home and just sleep the night away. Sliding a bag of Mora across the counter you state that it should be enough to cover both of your tabs. That was essentially all you’d earned via commission today, though, you can’t really find a reason to be mad about the extra expenditure. Helping people out - that’s just what you do. You don’t look twice as you exit the bar, though you feel a pair of eyes on your hooded figure as the door swings shut.

And that was that - you never saw the drunken bard again. Or so you thought. As the very next day you spotted him out of the corner of your eye while scouting around a Hilichurl camp, but as soon as you looked he was gone. And then that very same evening as you sat down for dinner at Good Hunter. Then several times over the next few days.

It was ticking you off, not just the fact that you had pretty much obtained a stalker, but the extra stress he brought with him as you now had to worry about his well being on top of yours during battle. You even started taking less dangerous commissions to further guarantee his safety. You didn’t really know or like the guy, but you certainly didn’t want him hurt, or worse; dead.

And by that point he wasn’t even trying to hide or disguise himself - trailing a few feet behind you nearly everywhere you went, drawing perplexed gazes from the townsfolk as you wandered from store to store for supplies. You were trying your best to keep your composure - to pretend he wasn’t even there in the first place - but the longer the charade went on the more cracks that appeared in your mask.

You didn’t mean to snap at him, honestly, but you were tired of putting up with a complete stranger following you around for no good reason - so you yelled at him. Right there in the middle of the market, the bard stood stunned - taken aback by your sudden outburst. He recovered quickly of course, smiling up/down at you like he hadn’t just been shouted at in clear view of the publics eye.

He hastily explains his actions, identifying himself as Venti - a travelling bard seeking inspiration for his next story. That night in the bar, he had been there lamenting - drowning his sorrows in wine over his recent pieces. They were all lacking ingenuity - a certain bit of flair that makes a story truly unforgettable. And that’s where you came in. You had caught his attention with your selfless act of generosity, so much so that it had given him that spark he he had been searching for. So naturally, he followed that spark - hoping it would continue to present him with the same creativity as before.

As you listen to his reasoning, the initial anger you felt mellows. You’re more than relieved that he’s not actually a creepy stalker, just a bard looking for inspiration.

Apologizing sheepishly for your actions, you scratch the back of your head. In that moment it was impossible to look into the boys eyes. You felt bad, truly. You had misread the situation entirely - thought it wasn’t all your fault. If the bard had simply approached you in the first place this whole fiasco could’ve all been avoided.

As you voice these thoughts to Venti he hums in understanding. He returns your apology with one of his own - bowing deeply with his beret in hand - shocking you and the few random townsfolk still paying attention to the scene.

Deeply embarrassed by the confused gazes the bard was drawing to them, you hastily accept his apology, tugging your hood further down to hide your hot face. Honestly the idea of just running away from the situation sounded quite appealing, but instead you restrain the urge - opting to walk past the boy as quick as possible.

Just as your shoulders brush, a hand latches onto your wrist - stopping your escape in its tracks. This time it’s Ventis turn to look sheepish, as he officially asks to accompany you on your exploits. He offers you entertainment and conversation, as well as any other skills he may or may not have - the latter only serving to confuse rather than convince you.

“Your journey would be far more enjoyable with a skilled bard such as myself by your side. Perhaps you would even allow me to write a ballad of your conquests?”

It’s not entirely uncommon for a bard to travel with an adventurer for inspiration, you suppose to yourself. Though you’re still more than a bit apprehensive on the matter. It’s not that you don’t want his company - really it does get quite lonely alone out on the road - it’s simply his safety that concerns you. But upon voicing this Venti simply chuckles, exclaiming that he’s much stronger than his appearance lets on.

Now - with no real reason to refuse - you accept his offer, earning a cheer from the bard. And so your joint journey began - you and Venti against whatever tasks or monsters needed tackling.

Friendship HC 

————————————————————

It goes without saying that if you didn’t have a vision before, you certainly have one now. Within the first week in fact. Waking up in the early hours of the day to a soft blue glowing vision beside your head was not something you ever thought you’d experience - but of course you’re not complaining.

Upon shaking the bard awake to show him your discovery he only gives a rather tame reaction - as if he already knew you had it.

“Hmm? You woke up to a vision by your side? My, my - what luck you seem to possess! Perhaps now you may go into battle with less distress.”

Travelling with Venti is never dull, as he fills the silence with stories of old - tales of the long deserted original city of Mondstadt, the creation of the seven nations themselves and other obscurities that you don’t remember hearing about in any history book. Often times he interrupts his own story to spill his own hot take on a major historical figure or deity - hearing him call Andrius a “mother hen in denial” had you spit out your drink. His storytimes often end with you wondering how exactly someone so young would have knowledge of times long gone. He always shrugs it off, quickly changing the subject with a smile filled with secrets. For a boy so young he talks as if he’s been around for centuries.

Any looming worries over his well being are quickly dismissed once you see him fight. His nimble fingers and sharp eyes shoot down all matter of foes in rapid succession, and his skills at utilizing anemo are completely unparalleled. Really, you’re left wondering how he’s not the adventurer here.

You will absolutely fall victim to his pranks there’s nothing you can do about it. Whether it’s the wind blowing your cloak around in your face, extra jueyun chilies in your food or a slime condensate down the back of your shirt - you cannot escape the impish bards mischievous side. It’s when he suddenly falls quiet that you have to worry. A silent Venti is a scheming Venti.

However this is not a one-sided deal at all, he welcomes - no, insists - that you prank him back. He doesn’t want you to be left out of the fun after all! So get him back for that frog he put in your pack, or the time he kept pushing air currents in your direction so you couldn’t land your glider. Really; the more creative the better. If you’re able to prank him successfully he’ll laugh with you as you celebrate, praising you for your victory. But be warned that his next scheme will be twice as good as yours.

If you ever need a break from his shenanigans, go hang out with a cat. He won’t approach you while the animal is around, however he will be pouting up a storm from a distance.

You’ve gotten to discover many quirks of the bard clad in green over time, like how the tips of his hair seem to glow brighter when he’s in a good mood - especially when he laughs, and that he’s completely repulsed by cheese. If he ever bothers you too much you can get him back by chasing him while holding the stuff. Some of that nasty, stinky stuff Sara has at Good Hunter should do the trick. Mind you that the boy is incredibly spry - so good luck keeping up.

Eventually, he ends up revealing his true identity to you after the guilt of lying begins to eat away at his heart - making it harder to keep up his persona. Really he’d wanted to tell you for months at that point, but a lingering feeling of apprehension - a worry that you may no longer see him the same way - kept holding him back.

“Y/N, I wish to tell you a truth I’ve been hiding. You see…in reality, I am Lord Barbatos.”

“…”

“That…actually explains so much…”

He’s relieved to find that nothing has changed between the two of you after his revelation. You still treat him like Venti the bard, just as you always have. It’s a weight off his shoulders to be sure, and you can tell his overall mood has improved too.

It’s still kind of shocking when he switches to “Barbatos mode”, as you’ve taken to calling it. Spouting bars of philosophical gibberish at the most random of times leaves you blinking in utter confusion and often times just hurts your brain.

At the end of the day, the God of freedom is incredibly lonely. The best way to describe it is that he’s detached - he’s out of touch with his ever-changing homeland and the people that reside in it. Only ever appearing to handle a major problem or calamity at hand and then sending himself into a deep slumber for hundreds of years.

Waking up each time is like mental whiplash for the poor god, as he sees towns rise and fall, people come and go and things change again just he’s beginning to get used them. It takes a toll on him - though he won’t let anyone see that.

He craves companionship and the feeling of belonging that comes with it more than anything. Placing unconditional trust in someone else, backing them up when the goings get tough and having them do the same in return. Providing a shoulder to lean on in moments of weakness and being so comfortable that breathing easy becomes the simplest thing in the world. That’s what he wants. Barbatos may not be human but his vessel is.

That’s why Barbatos cherishes his friendship with you so much. He knows you - like all other humans - have a finite amount of time in this world. In time, wrinkles will adorn your face, and strands of silvery gray will appear in your hair. You bones will ache as age seeps into your body. And yet he will experience no such afflictions - forever wearing the face of a young boy from another time. Ever ageless, frozen in time.

The dull ache that spreads through his chest at the thought of watching the one who he considers his closest friend wither away in front of him is…crushing. Even though he knows your time alive is brief, and that your death would only cause him more pain - he can’t stop himself.

He’ll spend nearly every day by your side, telling you tales of yore, pulling pranks and practical jokes, covering your back in battle and being there when you need it most. He wants you to experience the land and all its freedoms. He wants you to get the most out of what little time you have in such a vast and expansive world.

You’re the closest friend he’s had since the real Venti - and he sees bits of him in you too. You help fill the gaping hole of loneliness in his chest - one stemming from a millennia of duty and repressed guilt.

He knows you’ll eventually leave him, and one day hopefully he’ll come to terms with that. But for now, he’s content with you by his side, racing off into whatever dangers lie ahead.

————————————————————

This turned out so much longer that I thought it would I’m so sorry ;-;

I know you said all you wanted were headcannons but I think I went a lil too far…ok ALOT too far

I had fun though…so thanks for giving me something to work on!

—

No need to feel sorry! I loved it so much. Headcanons, fics, whatever you want^^ I stan talent and you have it 💕💕

I don’t know if you lads remember but when I was struggling over Venti HCs, this was the friend I asked for crumbs of inspiration that ended up giving me an entire fic. I went absolutely feral over it and wanted to share it with you all. 

So thank you to @fulltimeventisimp​ [alt account] for your beautiful work and feeding us all Venti crumbs. I swear to god, if there is a Venti re-run and you don’t get 6 venti’s in one 10 roll it’s time to riot. 

[No worries about tags] 

Also, I know this isn’t my work but I’m going to tag you all in this 

  @mikeysbike​​ @unionwitch​​ @musekala​​ @sunnshiii​​ @stanzastic​​ @akaasea​​ @xoneaboveallx​​ @adoring-ghost​​ @asheseiler​​ @childelover​​ @dilucsz​​ @dai-tsukki-desu​​ @thicmitten​​ @nonniechan​​ @htnicayh​​ @genshins1mpact​​ @morthecreator​​ @aanne2601 @aklxojjk​​ @hanniejji​​​​

[brattyfics]

Cape Disappointment | Part One

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Black!OC [Chantel Williams]

Summary: Miguel doesn’t rescue a damsel in distress because Chantel Williams is not a damsel in distress.

Warnings: None yet.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things. Quirky, witty, sarcastic. Condescending, impulsive, sometimes even chaotic. She could be all those things and more, but she refused to be anyone’s victim.

“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m not a damsel in distress…” She chanted over and over in a low tone. 

On the side of a low traffic road, snow raining down on her head, Chantel willed the words to be true. Unfortunately, she remembered very little of what her Papa taught her about cars, eyeing the confusing parts under the hood with frustration.

Papa was a school teacher but he worked as a shade tree mechanic on the weekends to be able to afford dance classes for little Chantel. Teaching was his passion through and through. He would talk her ear off in the car on the way to recitals or while she did homework on the bench in his workshop. Being a bratty kid, she learned to tune him out when the topic didn’t interest her and not for the first time she regretted not soaking up more of Papa’s wisdom before he passed. 

If she had, maybe she wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the road with no solution in mind. Empty handed and no closer to fixing the car, she shuffled through the snow. It wasn’t much warmer inside the car despite the thick North Face coat she wore with a matching hat and pair of gloves. She was sure she resembled a wet dog as she shook the snow off, not wanting the ice to melt into water droplets that would surely sting. 

Just a week earlier, she’d splurged on the fanciest new smart phone after losing the older model at a dinner party. Even with all its promised features, it was useless. No signal and no nearby WiFi networks to connect to meant she couldn’t call her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend for help even if she wanted to. She couldn’t even call a tow truck! 

Pride. 

Another one of Chantel’s many traits. She liked to think of it as a positive thing. It kept her from being desperate, saved her from being dependent on others for her happiness. No one else seemed to agree her pride was a good thing. 

Among the naysayers was her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend, Adam. Pride was what had led her to take off from the Yurt they shared on their week-long winter break getaway to race back to her industrial loft in the heart of Seattle despite the weather advisory. She would never admit it to anyone else, but she realized her pride didn’t always serve her well. 

If not for her bruised ego, it would have been funny that her car had chosen to break down a few miles north of Cape Disappointment State Park. It was where she had been staying with Adam. The yurt was too far away to walk back to in the snow but still close enough that it only made sense to stay there for the night once the car issues were resolved. She wasn’t looking forward to ending the night with him. 

Remembering Papa’s belief in God showing up when most needed, Chantel sent up a quick prayer. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to wait long for someone else to come down the otherwise deserted road. Winters in Washington were fairly mild so she wouldn’t lose her extremities to hypothermia or anything crazy like that, but she’d certainly suffer by way of the shivers. 

Any sane person was cuddled up next to the fireplace in their cabin with a bowl of chili, or participating in heat-inducing sexual activities in their yurt to keep warm, not on the road driving. It was only natural for her thoughts to snowball into all the types of un-same people she could run into. 

Indigenous women from Washington and Canada went missing far too often on roads just like the one she had so conveniently broken down on. Chantel had a bad habit of researching everything there was to know about topics when they peaked her interest and she knew too much about human trafficking in the area to not feel a considerable amount of fear. 

“That would be my luck.” She muttered meanly to herself, resolving that whatever happened would be her own fault. 

It wasn’t like a whole lot of people would come looking for her anyway. She had a large group of friends in Seattle, but she kind of had a reputation for taking off without saying much. She hadn’t even told anyone about the weekend excursion to Cape Disappointment! The family she had left she wasn’t close to, and by the time Adam realized she hadn’t made it back home it would be too late. 

Yellow headlights bathed the narrow road, the light blinding her the closer it got. Her hazard lights blinked red, signaling that she was broken down, but Chantel second guessed whether she wanted the help. 

“I’m going to be a sex trafficking victim all in the name of independence. Way to go, idiot.” 

Her fingers fumbled around in the gigantic backpack she’d been using as a purse for the weekend, hastily pulling at the zippers until she found what she was looking for. A purple taser she purchased on Amazon for a whopping ten dollars. She doubted it would stop anyone in their tracks, but it was better than nothing. 

It turned out the man who knocked on her window wasn’t an axe wielding serial murdering rapist, or at least he didn’t appear to be. She tucked the small device into her side as the ridiculously handsome middle aged man with a salt and pepper beard smiled at her through the foggy glass. 

He looked harmless enough, sporting a pair of smart designer glasses and what Chantel knew to be a really expensive cashmere turtleneck sweater underneath an equally expensive Canada Goose coat. She wasn’t shy about looking him up and down as she assessed the risk. What if the male model was a decoy?

His neatly manicured eyebrows twisted down in confusion and she thought it was one of the cutest things she had ever seen. 

She rolled down the window with a nervous smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” 

She hated how breathy the words came out but he was truly stunning. 

Tall, fit, well-dressed. 

“Are you alright? It looks like you’re having some trouble.” 

A gentleman.

“What would make you think that?” Chantel spoke before she thought it through, but the stranger didn’t seem to take offense if the amused smirk on his face could be trusted. “I’m kidding. Yeah, no. I’m not alright. The car was making weird noises so I pulled over and now it won’t turn back on. I looked under the hood but I have no idea what’s wrong.”

He nodded attentively while she spoke, watching her lips with interest. She noticed him staring and licked them.

“I don’t know how much of a help I’ll be.” His bronze skin reddened with the admission and she wondered if he was blushing or if the cold was getting to him. “I don’t know anything about cars but I can give you a ride wherever you want.”

She’d like a ride alright. In his cushiony truck that may as well have been a royal carriage considering the circumstances. Or on his handsome bearded face that she couldn’t stop staring at. 

Chantel wondered if he could tell what she was thinking. 

Movement caught her eye and she noticed an identical black SUV pulling off the road to park behind the one Prince Charming departed from. Her hand squeezed around the taser instinctively. 

Was the sexy stranger bait to catch naive, unsuspecting girls? 

“...but I’m sure we’d both rather leave it to the professionals.” He gestured back towards the dark truck and paused, noticing they weren’t alone. Her breath caught in her chest when four bulking men slammed their doors shut and started walking in their direction.

“I apologize. That’s my security team. I left without telling them.” 

Hmm. A kindred spirit. 

Who was he to have a security team? Was he telling the truth? Or just stalling? 

She wanted to believe him. To trust that it was in human nature to help one another without some ulterior, sinister motive. 

Did she even have a choice? How long would she have to wait on the next passerby? There was no guarantee they would be any better than the (so far) kind stranger and his friends.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things, but she was not naïve. With surprising coordination, she swung the door open, knocking the man back several steps. Her boots crunched as she landed in the snow. 

“Back up or I’m going to tase you!” She warned, putting space between herself and the stranger while keeping an eye on the approaching men. 

The corners of his mouth turned up as he fought back a smile. 

Chantel scoffed. He wasn’t taking her seriously. 

“I’m not fucking around!” She insisted, charging up the small device. The buzz felt more powerful than she remembered. The man seemed to think so too, changing his approach. He spoke in a soft tone. “Can we slow down?” 

“Don’t patronize me. Just back up like I said. No, this way!” She ordered until he stood across from her with his back to his men. 

Behind him, they speed up their approach but they could only move so fast in the snow. Following her gaze, the strange man looked over his shoulder and gestured for the men to stall at the front of his truck several feet away. One of them shouted at her to put the taser away from his position. He sported two braids and a cut in his brow. Chantel shouted back at him to ‘shut the fuck up’

Mr. GQ gave another signal and like he was the conductor of an orchestra, all noise ceased. Well, all external noise at least. Chantel swore she could hear the sound of her heart ringing in her ears. 

“Hey!” He demanded her full attention. His hands were up in a defensive position. “What are you looking for here?” 

It was a great question but she had no answer for him.

Trouble maker. Fire starter. Full-time agitator.

Chantel was that way even as a child, responding to normal adolescent teasing with violence. Sharp bites in the classroom or royal rumble style fights on the playground were her specialty in grade school. She made anyone stupid enough to provoke her regret it whether big or small, male or female. That wasn’t to say she was organized or calculating in her plans. She acted and dealt with things as they came. 

She had no idea what the endgame was when she pulled the taser, but she had to stick with it. The crowd of onlookers made her feel more justified in her rash decision.

“I don’t think you really want to hurt me.”

“Now, what would make you think that?” Chantel asked incredulously. He didn’t know her from Eve. 

She was even more steadfast in pointing the taser in his direction but he didn’t seem phased.

“When you want to hurt somebody, you don’t wait around or warn them. You just do it.”

“Are you suggesting I should’ve tased you?”

He shrugged as if they were discussing the weather.

“That certainly would have been more effective.”

Was he serious?

“I mean I still can. If you keep talking I just might.”

He had the gall to laugh in her face. 

Hysterically. 

And it wasn’t fleeting or sarcastic. It was genuine laughter from deep down in his gut. She hated how beautiful he was, even in the middle of showing blatant disrespect for her ability to harm him. 

“Seriously?” She griped, fighting against the way her face muscles twitched. 

Giggle box.

When somebody at church mispronounced a word during the announcements or when her aunt murdered a hit song, she giggled uncontrollably. Papa chastised her for it, but it couldn’t be helped. When the urge struck and she got that itch in her throat, she had to laugh.

So naturally, like two birds of a maniac feather they shared a laugh in four (and counting) inches of snow.

***

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus

MIGUEL TAGLIST

@thesandbeneathmytoes @taylortheeshowpony

[wizardofozymandias]

14 Days of DA Lovers, Day 7: Wearing the Other’s Clothes

I’m playing catch-up, since I didn’t get this finished yesterday, but better late than never.

Written for the @14daysdalovers prompt event.

Prompt: Wearing the Other’s Clothes

Pairing: Varric/Female Hawke

Characters: Varric Tethras, Marian Hawke

Summary: When Hawke shows up at his window drenched and half-frozen, Varric offers her some of his clothes to wear. 

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence

Varric sat at his desk, busily scrawling away at the next chapter of his novel. Outside, the wind was howling like it wanted to shake the whole tavern apart. Sleet rattled against the windows. Good day to be inside, Varric thought, taking another sip of brandy. 

A sudden frantic knocking at the window made him drop his pen. What in the name of. . . ? Varric peered through the frosty glass.

It was Hawke, of course. Her clothes were dripping wet and she was shivering like her bones wanted to rattle apart. Varric eased the window open. It was colder than Maferath’s left asscheek out there. “Hawke, what the hell happened to you?” he asked her.

“Long story,” she said.

“Is that ice in your hair?”

“Probably.”

“Well, since I’m assuming you knocked on the window for a reason, you’d better get in here before you freeze to death.”

She clambered inside, still dripping like a mop straight out of the bucket. 

“T-thanks, Varric,” she said through chattering teeth. 

“Don’t mention it,” he told her, securing the window shut.

There was a decent-sized puddle starting to form under his best friend. Varric grabbed a towel from the washstand. “Here.” He tossed it her way. “You’d better dry off before you flood the place.”

He shook his head as he watched her start to sponge off over her clothes.

“Hawke, I know you’re a lady, and you might be sensitive about. . .things.” He could not be blushing right now. “But you’re going to get any warmer or drier if you insist on staying in those clothes.”

She paused her frantic daubing at her clothes. “I’m an idiot,” she muttered. “You’re right.” She hauled off one of her boots, almost losing her balance in the process, and tossed it in a bare corner. 

“If you’ll promise not to fall and kill yourself, I’ll turn my back for the sake of your modesty.”

Hawke laughed. “There’s not much of me you haven’t seen, anyway. We’ve played enough Wicked Grace together.”

“I’m trying to preserve my reputation as a gentleman,” he protested.

“Avert your virtuous eyes, then. I’m about to strip.” 

As promised, Varric kept his eyes firmly fastened to the wall. Hawke was right— he had seen her without most of her clothes often enough when she drew a bad hand in Wicked Grace. Not to mention the handful of times where she had played badly until her lack of clothing made it easier to bluff. But that wasn’t in his bedroom. Alone. 

In the past few months, Varric had given up trying to deny that he found Hawke attractive. Hell, half of Kirkwall was probably attracted to her. She was the type of woman that branded herself onto your brain. Not beautiful, necessarily. But unforgettable. 

Not to mention loud-mouthed, smart-assed, and more hard-headed than a herd of Fereldan billy goats, Varric thought. 

Of course he was attracted to her. It was something he noticed early on, decided it didn’t matter, and forgot about. And it hadn’t mattered, until recently, when his face kept turning the color of his best shirt every time she glanced his way. 

Varric blamed Bartrand. Once his crazy brother was safely in the ground, Varric had started thinking too much about his own expiration date. Which came with plenty of uncomfortable realizations, like the fact that he was getting too old to eat his fill of the Hanged Man’s spicy chili, and that he had probably been in love with his best friend for the past two years.

He yanked his thoughts back to the present. “Are you going to explain what you’re doing knocking on my window?” he asked Hawke.

“Well. . .”

“Let me guess: you picked a fight?”

“No!” she insisted. “Technically, it was the other guy’s fault.”

Varric sighed. “As always.”

“Bodahn made way more soup than the three of us could eat, so I decided to take some to Merrill. I’m walking back, minding my own business, and this templar—”

“Andraste’s ass,” he interrupted, “you picked a fight with another templar? I can’t leave you unsupervised for a minute!”

“Hey, this asshole made a joke about what a shame I’m not as pretty as my little sister. And—I won’t repeat the rest of it.”

Varric’s mouth fell open. A strangled sound issued from his throat.

“Yeah.”

He coughed. “I hope you got him good.”

“I broke his nose and pitched him into the harbor. It had started snowing at that point, and there was a bunch of ice in the water. Unfortunately, he dragged me down with him.”

“I’m still missing the part of the story where I come in.”

“I thought that was pretty self-explanatory. It was pouring snow and sleet, and I was out in Lowtown. This seemed like the obvious place to wait out the weather, but they wouldn’t let me through the front door. After all I’ve done for this town!”

Varric laughed. “Kirkwall’s biggest menace.” 

“I’d wear that badge,” she said. “And, speaking of wearing things, do you have any spare clothes I could borrow? It’s either that, or I may have to commandeer your curtains.”  

“If you pull down my curtains, I’m throwing you out. I don’t think the management would stand for it.”

“Aren’t you their best customer?”

“Yes, and I’m not about to let you change that.” He walked to his chest of drawers and pulled out one of his shirts. He had no idea if it would fit her, but it was the only real option. He tossed it at the bed.

“Thanks,” Hawke muttered. 

“Any time. Let me know when you’re decent.”

There was some rustling around, then Hawke burst out laughing. “Um, Varric, you need to see this. I’m not sure if it counts as ‘decent,’ though.” 

He turned and stifled a laugh of his own. 

Hawke’s arms looked humorously large sticking out of his shirt. The hem barely grazed her thighs, and the neckline sat around the same level as her ribcage. If she had been as well-endowed as Isabela, the results would have been slightly scandalous. As it was, the only part of Hawke that was exposed was a ridiculous amount of skin below her collarbone. 

“I definitely don’t have the chest hair to pull this off,” Hawke said, still cracking up. “Or the chest, for that matter.”

Varric laughed, trying once again to hide the redness of his face. “Here,” he said, tossing his leather coat her way. “Put this on and get over here by the fire before you freeze to death.”

“You’re the best, Varric.”

“I know, I know.” 

Hawke ended up wrapped in one of his blankets while she unthawed, but even bundled up in that, Varric could still see the scarlet fabric of his shirt against her shoulder. He tried very hard not to think about how the color brought out her cornflower blue eyes. 

[koala-otter]

Hi! This is the main blog for hurricanezukka and thank you for the fic rec and making me aware of your amazing writing last night! I saw you were taking prompts and was wondering if you could do a cute short fic about my headcanon that Zuko does The Dance™ when he eats food he likes and Sokka seeing it for the first time and having a gay meltdown bc it's too cute for him to handle? Either way thank you for cheering up my night! 🥰

Oh my gosh hi again!! Thank you so much! I’m so happy you liked it! And I hope you’re feeling better :)

I love this headcanon a lot a lot, and I really wanted to do it justice. I hope it’s everything you imagined!

Zuko does The Dance™ when he eats 1.2k words

It’s going to be a long night, Sokka realizes on his way to the Fire Lord’s chamber, and Zuko likely hasn’t eaten, so he asks one of the attendants at the door to bring dinner for the two of them.

“Something easy,” Sokka explains as he strides into the chamber, “that Zuko will definitely like. Maybe komodo chicken?”

He doesn’t think about it again until later, after he’s been ushered through the antechamber into a salon where Zuko sits on the floor in front of a low table. A pile of scrolls lies in front of him, and he keeps looking at the topmost one as he fills another sheet of paper with his carefully practiced characters. Sokka sits across from him and covertly moves the inkstone and stick away from Zuko’s sleeve. 

Zuko looks up at him in alarm. 

“Wow, look at you, it seems like you’ve gotten a lot done already on your own,” Sokka says encouragingly. He grabs the stack of papers on the far side of the table and hefts them meaningfully, raising his eyebrows at Zuko. 

“There’d be more done if you got here earlier,” Zuko says pointedly, though they both know he isn’t actually angry. He avoids the view of Sokka’s contracting biceps he knows is meant to distract him.

“Hey, you asked me to take the meeting with the Hubei governor,” Sokka reminds him. He drops the stack on the floor next to him with a thud reminiscent of a camelephant foot hitting the ground. 

The left side of Zuko’s face quirks up in a grin. “And now that you know him so well, you can be the one to respond to his letter,” he says. He hands Sokka his own sheet of paper and one of the scrolls.

“You’re joking,” Sokka says. He unfurls the scroll. “He sent one, too?”

“Everyone’s sending congratulations, Sokka,” Zuko says, borderline impatiently. “There’ve been hawks coming every hour since your dad made the announcement.”

Sokka sighs. “I guess this is what I get for being engaged to the Fire Lord.” Sokka hears a huff and looks up to find Zuko with his one eyebrow raised, unimpressed. Sokka breaks into a toothy grin. “Not that it isn’t absolutely, completely worth it.”

Zuko lowers his face back down toward his paper in an attempt to hide the small smile on his face, and Sokka looks smug as he picks up his own brush and starts writing. 

Only a little while later, the double doors open, and a litter of servants enter the salon bearing several trays. Zuko stares, his mouth agape, as an attendant sets a soban table next to the two men, and the rest of the litter begin laying dishes on its surface. There is not only komodo chicken, but also squirrel-fried fish, sticky rice and komodo rhino sausage wrapped in lotus leaf, fresh green cucumber with garlic and red chilies, hippo-beef dumplings, and even Zuko’s favorite Earth Kingdom delicacy, fried dough filled with sweet red bean paste. One last servant presents them with a bowl of elaborately sliced mangoes, bananas, and cherries, and a pot of jasmine tea, before going to stand with his colleagues.  

“I hope these humble leftovers will be to your liking—” The senior attendant pauses; Sokka’s term of address is still a little ambiguous, especially in light of his recent engagement to the Fire Lord. Does one still consider him an ambassador, or is his status now that of a royal? “Sir,” the attendant finally settles on.

Zuko finally regains his ability to speak. “What is all of this?” he asks. He stares at the spread in a daze. 

“It’s for you,” Sokka says kindly before turning to address the attendants. “This is great! Thank you.”

The attendants bow and leave the room, closing the doors quietly behind them. Sokka resumes his writing. Zuko still stares at the food. 

“Why?” he finally asks. 

“I figured you needed to eat,” Sokka says simply. He gestures to the dishes with the back of his brush. ��You should start.” He grins cheekily. “I’ve still got a lot of catching up to do on my letters.”

“You do,” Zuko agrees, and he considers waiting for Sokka to join him, or insisting he start eating first. But the fragrance of the rice calls a little louder, and Zuko picks up his chopsticks and eagerly analyzes the dishes before him for his first bite. 

For a while, all Sokka hears while he writes his replies is the stroke of his brush on paper and the sound of Zuko’s chopsticks occasionally tapping together. But then there is something else, something he’s never heard before and that he cannot place, like a rustling of fabric, but not quite as loud and more regular. and Sokka raises his head slowly out of curiosity. 

Zuko looks sleepy, as he normally does when he stays up this late, with half-lidded eyes and a looseness about his shoulders. But he is also smiling. Contentment softens the lines of his face as he chews his food and his chopsticks float above the dishes, preparing for his next selection. Each bite is rewarded with a brief squeezing of his eyes shut, and a little sway, before he resumes a curious motion Sokka doesn’t understand at first glance. Zuko bobs up and down to some silent beat, his head moving in one direction and then another, and his free hand idly moving in tandem with the rest of his body. 

Sokka realizes all at once that Zuko is dancing. 

His mouth drops open slightly and his chest seizes at the sight of his betrothed, one of the fiercest firebenders in the world and the most powerful man of his nation, dancing during his dinner. If he were a crying man, Sokka would be moved to tears, but he’s instead simply, painfully overwhelmed with the desire to sweep Zuko into his arms, or to tie him to the bed, or just cradle him and keep him from the rest of the world. The little movements of his body, the sweet joy of his gaze on the food, the sway of his hair are all too much for Sokka to think about literally anything else, and the scroll slips from his hand and falls to the ground, forgotten.

Zuko stops dancing at the sound and looks up at Sokka, blinking slowly. 

“Sokka?”

Sokka's mouth doesn’t work yet, and he simply gazes at Zuko, pure adoration shining from his eyes. 

Zuko misreads it. 

“What, is there something on my face?” he asks self-consciously. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, worry furrowing his brow. “It’s not my fault there’s so much sauce on squirrel-fried fish.”

Sokka finally shakes himself out of his reverie, and he smiles lovingly at Zuko. “You’re perfect,” he says earnestly, and he leans across the table to kiss Zuko soundly. He tastes like garlic and chilies and salt. “I really love you.”

Zuko looks a little dazed when Sokka pulls back, and a light blush colors his cheeks. But he looks pleased. “I love you, too,” he says, his voice a little hoarse, and he laughs, short and sweet. He points to the food, barely any less abundant than when he began. “Now will you please eat with me?”

“In a minute,” Sokka replies, picking up the scroll once more, “I just really want to finish this.”

Zuko nods and tucks back into one of the bundles of sticky rice, sighing and dropping his shoulders as he relaxes anew. 

Sokka smiles as he waits patiently for the dancing to start again.

[i-like-plan-m]

shades of grey, pt 2

[part 1] [Ao3]

A high-pitched scream startled the roomful of advisors in the Unclean Realm. Nie Mingjue sighed and watched as they tried to compose themselves while shooting questioning glances at the closed door. 

“A moment,” Nie Mingjue said calmly, rising from his seat. 

He stalked to the door, yanked it open, and bellowed out into the hall. “You had better not be doing what I think you’re doing!” 

He heard the pitter patter of little feet scampering away, the hushed giggles of Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang who were not nearly as quiet as they believed. A servant rounded the corner looking harried and paused at the sight of the Sect Leader leaning out of the meeting room. 

“Let me guess,” Nie Mingjue said shortly. “Wei Wuxian had another brilliant idea, and Huaisang is happily along for the ride.” 

“Wei Wuxian caught a small bird for Nie Huaisang, Sect Leader,” the servant replied with a polite bow. “Your brother was surprised when it escaped and flew into his face.” 

Hence the screaming, Nie Mingjue assumed. “And now?” He asked. 

The servant hesitated. “I… believe they plan to catch it again and keep it, Sect Leader.” 

Which meant they’d be climbing all over the damn walls and leaping off of rooftops, judging by past experience. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to keep his exasperation from bleeding into actual annoyance. 

“Fetch Nie Zonghui,” he decided. He didn’t trust the other disciples to wrangle both boys without help, and he couldn’t justify interrupting his disciples’ training to send more than one. Babysitting definitely wasn’t one of the duties of being Nie Mingjue’s right hand, but Nie Zonghui was the best bet for catching them both before someone ended up maimed or worse. 

His right hand and best friend deposited the boys at Nie Mingjue’s office shortly after the meeting ended, hiding a smile at their sulking expressions. “Your troublemakers, Sect Leader, as requested.” 

Nie Mingjue set aside yet another letter from Jiang Fengmian asking for an update on Wei Wuxian’s progress and glowered at them. “You disrupted a meeting with my advisors and made Nie Zonghui chase you all over the Unclean Realm.” 

“We didn’t mean to!” Wei Wuxian said, all big eyes and irrepressible energy. “Sorry, Chifeng-Zun!”

“The bird got away,” Nie Huaisang said despondently. His robes were torn and smeared with dirt, though he had fewer leaves in his hair than Wei Wuxian did. 

Nie Mingjue wished desperately for a drink. 

“Huaisang,” he said through gritted teeth. 

Nie Huaisang sighed heavily. “Sorry, da-ge,” he said in an obedient monotone. “Sorry, Nie Zonghui.” 

“You are forgiven,” Nie Zonghui said, patting them both on the heads. They brightened. 

“Stop right there,” Nie Mingjue said as they tried to make a quick break for the door. “You’re still being punished. Huaisang, no painting for a week.” 

Nie Huaisang gasped, betrayed. “No! Da-ge! One day!” 

“Six.” 

“Two!” 

“Four?” Wei Wuxian suggested, glancing between them. 

Neither of them looked pleased, which meant Nie Zonghui cheerfully interjected with, “Four it is. Thank you, shidi.” Wei Wuxian looked too pleased at the praise for either of them to argue. 

“Wei Wuxian-”

“Extra training?” He asked hopefully. 

“No,” Nie Mingjue said flatly. “You’d only enjoy that, and that isn’t the point of a punishment. Instead, you can scribe for me over the next four days.” 

“Scribing?” Wei Wuxian moaned, slumping sideways into Nie Huaisang, who stumbled and only remained upright because Nie Zonghui caught them both by the back of their robes. “But Chifeng-Zun, it’s so boring!” 

“Think about that the next time you two want to cause trouble,” he scolded. “Now go away, you’re missing dinner.” They scrambled out the door before he could add anything else to their punishment, leaving the two adults in sudden silence. 

“It’s not funny,” he said darkly. “Stop laughing.” 

Nie Zonghui just grinned wider. “They gave me quite the chase this afternoon. Wei Wuxian is getting quick.” 

“I’ll be sure to tell Jiang Fengmian,” Nie Mingjue said, tossing the letter across the desk with disgust. 

“Another letter?” Nie Zonghui marveled, scanning its contents with a growing frown. “What is his preoccupation with Wei Wuxian?”

“Something about being in love with one or both of his parents, if the gossip is to be believed.” His tone shared his feelings about gossip, but there was no direct way to ask Jiang Fengmian what his deal was without causing intersect strife that Nie Mingjue could not afford at the moment and definitely didn’t have the patience for, now or ever. 

“He asked for Wei Wuxian to visit again,” Nie Zonghui noted, setting the letter down. His voice was neutral, but the tightness around his eyes made the soft grey turn to steel. 

“If only the man would pay more attention to his own children,” Nie Mingjue muttered. Maybe then Madam Yu would stop glaring at Nie Mingjue like it was his fault her husband was utterly disinterested in his own family. 

“You won’t be able to dodge the question forever,” Nie Zonghui said unhappily. “Will he try to keep Wei Wuxian, if we let him visit?” 

Nie Mingjue scowled. “Wei Wuxian is officially a ward of Qinghe Nie. Fengmian would be a fool to try anything of the sort.” 

He wouldn’t necessarily threaten war if that came to pass, but there were many Nie disciples who were very fond of Wei Wuxian. Jiang Fengmian wouldn’t risk the ire of the entire Qinghe Nie Sect, not when there was proof that Wei Wuxian was cared for and thriving. 

“Perhaps Huaisang could visit, too,” Nie Zonghui suggested. Then he smiled with all of his teeth; it was not friendly. “And a few select guards, for the Sect Leader’s beloved little brother.” 

Nie Mingjue considered his friend, who had become attached to Wei Wuxian within days of his arrival at Qinghe. The dual sabers strapped to his back marked him as a formidable fighter even among the Nie disciples- few could stand against him in a fight, much less win. 

Nie Mingjue would trust Huaisang and Wei Wuxian to no one else. 

“You’re volunteering to spend that much time near Madam Yu?” He asked wryly. 

Nie Zonghui grimaced. “For them, yes.” 

“A devoted disciple,” Nie Mingjue said solemnly. 

Nie Zonghui rolled his eyes. “Have you eaten dinner yet?” He glanced at the piles of paperwork on Nie Mingjue’s desk. “Never mind. Let’s go, before the cooks track us down.” 

“I have-” 

“To get dinner,” Nie Zonghui interrupted. “I have been threatened, Sect Leader, into ensuring you are appropriately fed.”

“Threatened?” He asked, giving in and rising. He was hungry, he admitted to himself as he collected Baxia and followed his second out the door. 

“With cold and unspiced meals,” Nie Zonghui said with exaggerated sorrow and a shudder. ��As though I’m the one to blame for your personal choices.” 

Nie Mingjue muttered something unflattering under his breath, but let Nie Zonghui lead him to the dining hall. He spotted Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang sequestered in a corner, a pile of food between them as they hunched over a stack of talisman papers. 

Wei Wuxian still ate like every bite would be his last, but at least he’d stopped stashing perishable foods in his robes and under his bed. He’d been found out a month into his arrival when the smell of rotten meat had wafted all the way down the hall. 

He’d been so guilty, so scared, but Nie Mingjue had just sighed and led him to the kitchens to introduce him to the staff, where he was allowed to go ask for food whenever he wanted. He’d been adopted on the spot by the cooks, whose stern demeanors dissolved in the face of Wei Wuxian’s wide-eyed awe and disbelief about being offered free food. They kept a stash of snacks in the kitchen just for him now, coated in bright red chili oil that made Huaisang gag. 

Nie Mingjue heard his brother whining about it now, bickering with Wei Wuxian about his chili oil-infested food touching Nie Huaisang’s. But for all their arguing, all their mischief and havoc, they were glued at the hip. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen them apart. 

Their bedrooms were adjoining, but most of the time Nie Mingjue found them curled up together like puppies in one room. He’d noticed fewer nightmares from Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian both, and thought their personalities were wildly different, they shared enough interests that it never affected their friendship. 

Seeing his little brother flourish at the heels of a gold-hearted trouble maker only made Nie Mingjue’s resolve harden. Jiang Fengmian couldn’t have Wei Wuxian, and that was final.

[Ao3]

[mistaeq]

Nijimura Keicho: You were always holding me back.

TW // abuse, kinda angsty

This was not a request, and there's no reader insert. I felt the need to write it. It's based on Stromae's song Papaoutai. Hope you like it.

Where Nijimura Keicho tells mom about his life.

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

Tell me where he comes from, at least I'll know where to go, mommy says that when you look hard, you always find something.

1983, October. He's so tired, mom, he's so tired. I'm so tired, mom, I'm so tired. Nijimura Keicho's head feels the heaviest. I'm so tired, he thinks, tired of not ever seeing dad. His old man smiles, his old man laughs, but when it comes to taking care of him, he steps away, faster than a scared fox. He says he loves his wife and his son. I'm so tired, yeah he's so tired. Tired of seeing his mom pretending everything is totally fine. But she has to. She has to relax. Mom is beautiful, mom is the most amazing woman. Keicho loves mom. He spends a lot of time with her, she likes singing while she cooks. Her voice is amazing. Keicho loves laying on the couch with her. Keicho loves listening to what is going on inside her growing belly. Mom is pregnant. It's a question of few days, for her to give birth to his little brother.

She says he's never very far away, he leaves very often for work. Mommy says "working is good", better than being in bad company... right?

1984, February. He's so angry, mom, he's so angry. I'm so angry, mom, I'm so angry. His father smiles, his father laughs. How can he be in peace with himself? When months ago, she gave birth to their new little treasure, Okuyasu, he was away for work. Two-year-old Keicho never forgot it. Keicho was so angry. Angry at his old man, when he kissed his mom. Angry at his old man, when he caressed his little brother. Talking about him, Keicho loved him. He was so small, so defenseless against his father's hypocritical hands. Okuyasu loved his aniki back. The little one would grip Keicho's hand, and never let go. He would have never remembered that, growing up. But Keicho always had that memory in his mind. Forever and ever, until he died.

Where’s your dad? Tell me where’s your dad? Without even having to talk to him, he knows something's wrong.

1987, July. He's so desperate, mom, he's so desperate. I'm so desperate, mom, I'm so desperate. Why did you have to die? His old man smiles, his old man laughs. His old man fell into depression. Keicho, now a six-year-old, knows. This is so stressful. He can't even mourn his late mother. Because he has to stay strong. Mom is gone. Dad is depressed and will scream the whole day, scaring the little one. This results in Keicho being Okuyasu's only hope to smile. Keicho is so desperate, so desperate in seeing his mother's stuff still in their house, so desperate when his little sibling asks, in tears, where mommy is. How do you tell a three-year-old that his mom is now an angel? How do you wipe his tears and lie, telling him everything's gonna be okay?

Oh damn dad, tell me where you’re hiding. I must’ve counted my fingers, at least a trillion times.

1989, April. He's so pained, mom, He's so pained. I'm so pained, mom, I'm so pained. We miss you, mom. They miss you, mom. It's the fourth time this year. Dad receives gold and jewels from someone. He's mad. He's mad. Keicho doesn't know what's going on. Keicho knows his dad's economical struggles are gone. But he's not any better. Money won't solve the heavy depression mom's death created. Keicho feels that on his body so many times. Keicho always makes sure he's his father's target. Keicho sometimes fails. That's when he notices that failing is awful. Failing is for weak people. And he doesn't want to be weak. Because every time he fails in being his father's target, the old, damned man abuses Okuyasu's little fragile body. How can you abuse your five-year-old son and sleep at night? Who gives you that gold and jewels? Just take me, Keicho thinks. Don't touch my brother.

Even if we believe it or not, there’ll be a day we won’t believe it anymore. One day we’ll all be dads, and from one day to the other we’ll disappear.

1989, November. He's so scared, mom, he's so scared. I'm so scared, mom, I'm so scared. Help them. Help us. This is not their father. Keicho has just come back from school, his brother hand in hand with him. The old man is screaming. Screaming on the ground, about somebody who's died. He looks like a monster, when his face shows, almost green and ruined. Keicho doesn't flinch. Keicho has to be strong. He has to be strong for the small and innocent hands that are now gripping the back of his shirt, crying. He always holds him back. Okuyasu has always held him back. Keicho offers to call an ambulance. But this is no illness. "The flesh bud has gone berserk", he just screams. What's a flesh bud? He's so scared, he's so scared, when his old man runs off, leaving the two of them speechless, the only sounds to be heard are the noisy clock and Okuyasu's terrified sniffles.

Will we be hated? Will we be admired? Just passing on genes or geniuses? Tell us who gives birth to these irresponsible people?

1990, August. He's so hopeless, mom, he's so hopeless. I'm so hopeless, mom, I'm so hopeless. The old man is a glob of flesh, now. A glob of flesh that can't even tell they're his sons anymore. But their scars, can still tell a terrifying story of abuse and fear. Okuyasu is old enough. He doesn't need Keicho anymore. But now, he had relied on his aniki too much. Okuyasu is weak. And Keicho hates weakness. But Keicho knows it's his fault, too. He's only nine years old. And now he's the one who has to raise his little brother. And he's gonna raise him as a winner. Losers ruin everything. His father was a loser, and all he obtained from this was selling his soul and becoming a glob of shit. Nijimura Keicho now hates losers. Nijimura Keicho's heart starts hardening. Nijimura Okuyasu is the one who gets the consequences of this. Nijimura Okuyasu, becomes a loser to his aniki's eyes.

Tell us who, look. Everyone knows how to make babies, but no one knows how to make dads. Mr. Know-It-All must’ve inherited it.

1993, December. He's so annoyed, mom, he's so annoyed. I'm so annoyed, mom, I'm so annoyed. Keicho just can't keep up with school. He wants to do lots. He wants to be like other kids. He'd love to have friends to bring home. He can't. Keicho is annoyed, because he's the one who skips lessons, to take care of their useless father. Okuyasu came home, saying he's now friends with a boy. This is not fucking fair. Keicho loves his brother. But his brother is a loser, already. If losers get friends who tell them they're enough, they'll never shine bright like they should. Why Okuyasu can go out, make friends and take it easy? Why? Keicho punches his little brother, that day. He does it. Then he announces they both will abandon school. All the hate and the frustration Keicho has kept in his heart, all these years being held back because of his brother's sniffles and tears, detonates like a bomb on Okuyasu, whose innocency completely crumbles down. Then, he kicks his father's gross body. "WILL YOU STOP TOUCHING THAT FUCKING BOX?"

Maybe you need to wing it or something? Tell us where they’re hiding. We must’ve bitten our fingers, at least a billion times.

1999, September. He's so disgusted, mom, he's so disgusted. I'm so disgusted, mom, I'm so disgusted. Morioh Cho is a complete change of atmosphere. Every morning Keicho wakes up, and braids his long, blond lock of hair. Every morning Okuyasu wakes up, and fixes his hair in a small pompadour. They're men now. Keicho is so disgusted. So disgusted by the bow and arrow he holds, so disgusted by his brother, now betraying him. So disgusted by his father, who managed to have his family photo fixed by Higashikata Josuke. So disgusted by his life. Okuyasu's eyes had never been so deep and sad, when he asks his aniki to let go of the bow and arrow. Okuyasu's body had never been so warm and dear, when Keicho desperately pushes him aside, saving him from a certain death against Red Hot Chili Pepper. Keicho is disgusted by his brother. Keicho is disgusted by how much he cares about Okuyasu. Keicho is disgusted by everything hurting his brother. Before he dies, Keicho realizes all he wanted was giving a future to Okuyasu. And all he did was denying it to him. Nijimura Keicho has always been held back from his brother. "You were always... holding me back..." He tells Okuyasu, before dying. Yes. Always holding him back from being disgusted by himself. It was a thank you.

"Keicho? Keicho?" it feels like an angel is talking. "Come here, Keicho..." He's wandering in a blinding light. That voice. He may never mistake it with someone else's. That voice.

1999, September. He's dead, mom, he's dead. I'm dead, mom, I'm dead. He's now in peace. His mother's voice told him he's done great. He tries not to feel sure about this. But he can't. Nijimura Keicho really has done great. He's dead now, and wanders in a bright, blinding light, until something, until someone, hugs him from behind. He missed you, mom. I missed you, mom. She moves, like a feather. She's always been gentle. She's always been amazing. Mom says he's beautiful. Mom says he's been a great brother. And after all, mom says Okuyasu is safe. Okuyasu will become a great man. And that he'll always treasure Keicho's teachings. A couple of bitter tears fall down the man's cheeks, and he'd be normally disgusted. But now he's dead. And he's done great. Mom said that. So he smiles, while her gentle hands wipe his tears off. He follows her in the core of that blinding light. He follows her. Forever.

"In the very end... my brother defended me, didn't he?" Keicho heard that, hand in hand with his mother, walking in that neverending light. Keicho heard his brother's words. "Josuke... you saw it, right?" He sounded desperate. Yes. Keicho defended him. Because Keicho knew Okuyasu would have made him proud.

[zach-the-fox]

Furiends Episode 4: Insensitive Interrogation

“Ah!” Zach yelps as Brook presses some white cream against his burn. “Easy, Brook…”

“Sorry, but I told you it would sting,” the purple rabbit replies. “Now, just hold still.”

Zach tenses up, feeling her paw across his torso. “Ah! Oh, that hurts…”

“Oh sorry!” She ceases. “Um, let me come back to that.” She works her way lower.

Zach keeps still, feeling the rabbit’s paw rubbing him. Brook kneels to apply the medicine to more of the burn areas. Zach trembles a little as he feels her by his lower area. “Woo!” He looks down at her. “Uh, I don’t have any burns there…”

Brook giggles. “Whoops. Well, you’re never too sure.” She stands after she finishes. “Just let the cream do its thing, okay?” Zach rolls his eyes.

Hatboy, on the other hand, isn’t too happy as he’s sweeping the glass in the dustpan by the broken window. “This sucks… Why am I the one cleaning up this mess?!”

“Because,” Brook begins. “You were the one who batted the fireball out the window. Keep sweeping.” Brook sighs, then goes to sit in a chair at the counter. “Man… I’m still a disappointed. We could’ve had our very own demon.”

“I don’t mean to ask,” Zach utters. “But what would you do with a demon?”

Brook shrugs. “Don’t know. Mostly be its friend. Maybe even unleash it on my enemies. That would be nice. Wouldn’t you want a protector against your foes?” Zach points his eyes at the ceiling, reflecting on the times where everyone he encountered thought of him as an enemy. His thoughts are scrambled at the question, thinking if they really deserve being attacked for bullying the fox. “Well?” asks Brook, causing him to snap out of it.

“I… I…”

Knocking against the door catches her attention. “Hold on. Someone’s at the door. Better see who it is.” The rabbit ambles over and looks through her peephole. Standing in front waiting is the wolf with the red armband. Alongside him, is a sheep in a green vest, a monkey whose face is covered with a yellow mask, and a cat dressed in a red top and blue jeans as a flower sits against her ear. “Can I help you people?” she asks through the door.

“This is Team Rescuers,” shouts the wolf. Zach’s head turns to the door quickly. His ears stand as straight and tall as they could be. “Please open up!”

“Um, just a second…” The rabbit faces her friends. “It’s Team Rescuers…”

“Yeah, we heard,” Hatboy says. “What could they possibly want? I mean, why do are they here?”

“Probably for me,” Zach utters. His breathing increases. “They want to pick on me, I know it…”

“Calm down,” Brook orders him. “You’re acting like an escaped convict.”

“Open the door, now!” demands the sheep, screaming in a female voice. “Otherwise, we will kick it in!”

“Relax, Cindy,” spurts the cat, female in tone as well. “Be patient.”

“Better answer it, Brook,” says Hatboy.

Brook turns to the door and opens it, appearing in the crack. “Hello there. What brings you fine animals around here today?”

“Good day, Ma’am,” the monkey begins, speaking in a baritone voice. “We’re here to investigate some strange event.”

“Strange, you say?” the rabbit asks, forming her creepy smile. “I like strange. Tell me, how strange is this event you are looking into?”

“Well,” the monkey continues. “We’ve gotten reports that a large fireball had traveled across town and burned everything in its path. We’ve talked to eyewitnesses around and we’ve traced their reports to this location, where everyone’s saying this is where it came from. Have you seen anything unusual such as this?”

“Is that so? Well, I’ve not seen anything of that sort, but I did-”

“Hey wait!” The wolf notices Zach inside. “It’s the flawed fox! Why is he in your home?!”

Brook narrows one eye. “Um, what? Why does that concern you?”

“I bet he’s the one behind the whole “fireball” fiasco. Let us in immediately,” he orders. “We need to search this place.”

“Whoa, hold on… What makes you so sure about-”

“Move!” The wolf pushes her aside and enters. Upon walking in, he stops before the fox and red rabbit. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the flawed fox of Heroto?”

“This is what you meant, Jay?” asks the monkey. “Guess he settled for worst.”

“I know, right, Kenji?” The wolf then turns to Cindy. “Hey Cindy, care to say “hi” to your old boyfriend?”

The sheep steps beside him. “If only he was. He’s more of Miffy’s type.”

“Sorry,” adds the cat. “I only date men who are strong-willed, not little boys.” Zach’s ears droop down as a frown forms.

Hatboy stands beside the fox. “Have you no decency for your citizens, especially those who are unfortunate?”

“What are you going to do, Rabbit?” Kenji asks. “You going to smack us with those large ears of yours?”

“Hey, now that’s uncalled for. What business do you have with us anyway?”

“Listen Chili Pepper,” Jay begins. “We’ve gotten reports a fireball came from this location, and I’d say it’s pretty clear it was from you guys.”

“Hold on…” Brook stands between the team and her two friends, crossing her arms. “What makes you think we were the ones who unleashed the fireball?”

“It seems obvious, Toots.” The wolf crosses his arms. “The whole place has been scorched. We can see the damage here.”

“We weren’t the ones who released a fireball on the town,” Zach claims. “That’s all a lie!”

“Explain the burn marks, then.”

“Simple explanation,” utters Brook. “We were making lunch when it accidentally spilled on the floor and caught fire.”

“Must’ve been a huge fire. Care to tell us why the flawed fox has a huge burn on his torso?” questions Miffy.

Zach tries to muster a good explanation “I… I was-”

“Helping us,” Brook interrupts, after quickly covering the fox’s mouth with her paw. “He was trying to help cook when fire got big. Zach tried to smother the flames, but they whipped him while he was putting it out.”

“So, where’s the fire department, then?” Cindy asks. “Wouldn’t they be here if a fire was raging out of control?”

“We managed to put it out before it spread,” Hatboy explains. “Got it all under control. So, we didn’t need the fire department.”

Kenji rubs his chin. “Likely story… Still doesn’t explain why there’d be a huge fireball spotted across town.”

“Um, we aren’t sure either,” Brook implies. “In fact, we’re just as confused as you.”

“Yeah,” Zach adds in. “Perhaps your rivals, Capital Corp, were the ones who started the whole “fireball” fiasco to lure you away.”

Jay crosses his arms. “I highly doubt Capital Corp would do something like that. Though, you aren’t wrong… They could be up to something! We should get going! Let’s go, Team!” As he exits, the three others follow him.

The sheep stops and turns to the rabbits. “Oh, you two better be watchful of the flawed fox. He’s known to cause trouble wherever he goes.” She then disappears.

Brook closes the door. “Toots?! The nerve of them!”

“Chili pepper?” spurts Hatboy. “What a bunch of jerks… Barging in here and putting the blame on Zach for something that clearly wasn’t his fault.”

“They blamed us, too! Come on, just because Zach’s made some mistakes doesn’t make him a bad person… And just because we’re friends with him doesn’t mean we’re enemies too.”

“And didn’t you hear what she said about “watching ourselves with the flawed fox”? I mean, really? How the hell did they ever become heroes?”

“What a couple of clucks.” Brook turns to the fox, noticing his ears remain drooped as he turns his head. “You okay, Zach?”

“Yeah…” the fox responds. “Fine…”

The purple rabbit places her paw on the fox’s shoulder. “Don’t even pay attention to them. They’re just looking to blame someone for their problems. You’re no flawed fox. Actually, I’m starting to think something’s going on.”

Hatboy narrows one eye. “What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you see the way they came in and just left? They weren’t even concerned about our safety. Real heroes don’t just walk in, look around and assume it was someone they didn’t like, and then leave. They must be up to something…”

“Probably planning on setting me up so all of Heroto can banish me,” Zach suggests. “I’m not surprised…”

“You won’t get banned,” Brook tells him. “We’re going to make sure nothing bad happens to you. You, me, Hatboy, Carly, and Emmy. In fact, we should call them up and let them know about the situation. We’ll need to keep a lookout for those Rescue-jerks. We should also clean this place up before other people come by and get suspicious.”

@carlycmarathecat​ @emmy-the-absolute-goof​ @bendy-bear-15​

[sheewolf85]

New Fic - Right Where You Belong

Summary: Based on Twitter ramblings from Keelywolfe, Nanenna, myself, and many others!

Edge is the older brother here, only a teenager himself and living on the streets with Red when he's invited by Rus to stay at his place with his dad and younger brother. He can watch the kids while Rus goes to work at the lab with Gaster! It's perfect! And it is, for a while, until one day the kids get into a fight and Blue gets hurt.

As much as Edge wants to comfort the kids and make sure everything is okay, he can't help but wonder what's going to happen when Rus and Gaster get home. Will he and his brother lose their warm, safe home?

Notes: This has been stuck in my head ever since this morning when it was talked about on Twitter. It had to be written!

One quick note here, Edge and Rus are the same age, about sixteen or so. Rus can't do much at the lab, but enough to earn a bit of cash to help out with the bills.

I want to gift this to the ppl on Twitter, but I feel like I'd miss someone, so, if you were part of the twitter convo, consider this your gift!

Read it AO3 

Or read after the cut

Stars, he was tired. He hadn’t slept well the night before because his baby brother hadn’t slept well, and all Edge wanted was a damn nap that he wasn’t likely to get anytime soon seeing as how he was the only one in the house to watch the two younger kids.

Which, admittedly, he wasn’t doing a very good job of at the moment. But they were fine; they were in Blue’s room playing while Edge attempted to keep his sockets open in the living room. He was listening, though, and they seemed to be playing some sort of superhero game, both of them being the heroes while several of Blue’s stuffed animals played the bad guys. It was honestly cute, even if they were both a bit grouchy today.

To top it off, neither of the toddlers had taken a nap. Edge had honestly expected Red to pass right the heck out since he’d barely slept the night before, but no, he was chattering to himself the whole hour while Blue sang himself lullabies.

It wasn’t much of a surprise when their play turned a bit sour, their gentle squabbling over which villain was going to get their butt handed to them next turning into an all-out argument complete with raised voices and name-calling.

Edge really should have gotten up to check on them and help them calm down fifteen minutes ago. He shouldn’t have let it go on so long, but he was so tired!

Red screeching in anger got Edge to his feet in a hurry. He made it to the doorway of Blue’s room just in time to see Red throw a toy at Blue. It hit him square in the face with enough force to knock him down and smack the back of his head on another toy.

Blue was immediately in tears, screaming in both pain and anger as Edge rushed over to check him. Edge’s soul began to pound as Blue sat up and marrow dripped from nasal aperture. There was the tiniest of cracks on the left side, close to his socket.  

Edge’s mind began to race at the sight of the crack. He could only barely remember how he’d gotten the vast majority of his scars, but he knew they all hurt when they were fresh.

“i didn’t mean to!” Red hollered, running up to them.

Blue kicked at him, screaming again and barely missing his knee by a few inches.

Edge pulled his little brother back, away from potential harm by Blue’s flailing feet. “I know, Red, but you can’t throw things like that!”  He turned his attention back to Blue. “Shhh, it’s okay, Blue,” he said softly. “You’re okay; let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” He helped Blue to his feet. “Red, I want you to stay here and think about what you’ve done while I help Blue.”

Red sniffled and nodded, his gaze on his feet. Edge so wanted to scoop him up and remind him that these things happened but he needed to try to control himself a little better. He didn’t have time; he had to get Blue at least cleaned up before Rus and Gaster got home.

Thinking of Rus and Gaster only made his soul pound harder. Gaster was a great father, very kind and attentive to his two boys, and Rus was the kind of older brother Edge so wished he could be. The fact that Gaster even let Edge and Red stay in their home spoke to the kind of man he was, even if Edge did work for his stay. He cooked and cleaned and cared for the children, but he’d do it all four times over if Gaster asked it of him.

He set a still-sobbing Blue on the counter by the kitchen sink and turned on the faucet to wet a paper towel. After wringing it out one-handed, he tried to gently wipe at Blue’s face. Blue screeched louder and pushed Edge’s hand away.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Blue,” he said gently. “I’m not going to hurt you, buddy, but I need to get you cleaned up so I can see if you need a healer.” Stars, he hoped Blue wouldn’t need a healer.

Blue whined and looked up at Edge with bright, starry eye lights, but he nodded and let Edge do what had to be done. Gently dabbing the smeared marrow away, Edge could finally see the extent of the crack. It didn’t go through his bone like the one in Edge’s socket, thank goodness. It was only on the outer surface of the bone, but that surely didn’t mean it hurt any less.

It had stopped bleeding finally and soon Edge had the little guy all cleaned up. He took him to change his clothes and then set the boys in different rooms for time out, which only resulted in more screaming from children who were adamant that they were okay now and wanted to play. Red even kicked at him just before he shut the door to their shared room.

Both kids in time out, their muffled cries still echoing through the house, Edge found himself in the bathroom and locked the door. Sitting on the floor by the bathtub, he drew his knees up and let his head fall between them. He tried to wrap his arms around his head to block out the sound, but it was hopeless. Even among the cries from frustrated children, Edge could hear the memory of Blue’s painful screaming.

He was going to have a bruise, that was certain. Even if the crack were somehow miraculously healed by the time Blue’s father and older brother came home, there was no way to hide what had happened.

Guilt twisted in Edge’s soul. Would he really have tried to hide it? What kind of person was he? Gaster trusted him with his youngest child, and that was how he was going to repay his kindness? No, he had to be honest and let the chips fall as they may.

A tight sob forced its way out of Edge’s chest. He knew exactly how the chips were going to fall. This was all his fault, and if Gaster was even a fraction as smart as Edge knew him to be, he and his brother would be back out on the streets by tonight.

If it were only Edge himself, he could handle that. He’d made a mistake and he’d pay the price. What was killing him now wasn’t what he was going to lose. No, it was that his baby brother was going to have to pay that price right along with him. Red didn’t belong on the streets. He deserved to have a filling meal each night and a warm, safe place to sleep.

If there was a way to ask Gaster to please keep Red here, he’d do it, but he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it was selfishness or the knowledge that Red could be a handful, but he would not ask Gaster to care for his brother.

The sudden vibration of his phone in his pocket made him jump. He hurried to his feet and pulled out to silence the blaring alarm.

He swore under his breath and went to the sink to try to clean up. Rus and Gaster would be home within the hour, and he hadn’t even started anything for dinner.

Splashing some water on his face only marginally helped, but it was enough to calm the panic still aching in his chest. A few deep breaths later, he opened the door and went to let the kids know they could be free from time out.

Except both their doors were open and the two were playing quietly together in Blue’s room. He stood in the doorway and folded his arms across his chest.

“What are you two doing out of time out?” he asked, eyeing the both of them. The discoloration of a bruise was already starting to bloom around Blue’s left eye.

“You were in the bathroom crying for a long time,” Blue said sadly. “Are you okay?”

Stars, he was going to miss that kid.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you both going to be good now or do I need to separate you again?”

This time it was Red who answered. “we’re being good. i even said i was sorry.”

Well, that was something, at least. “Good. I’m going to start dinner.”  Hopefully he’d have enough time to at least enjoy it with the family.

Learning to cook had been an experience Edge would never forget. He loved being able to craft tasty dinners and treats, and having a stocked kitchen like he did here made it easy to decide on something to make. At least, most of the time. Now, as Edge surveyed the cupboards, he couldn’t think of a single thing. Nothing seemed good enough. The kids, and probably Rus, would go for something simple like chili dogs or chicken strips, but if this was going to be the last real dinner Red was going to have for a while, Edge wanted to make it count.

He still hadn’t been able to decide on anything by the time the door opened. Edge closed his eyes and gripped the side of the counter behind him to keep his balance as Blue shrieked in joy and went running down the hall.

“Daddy!” he cried, just like every day when Gaster and Rus got home, and Edge could imagine Gaster scooping him up just like always.

“Hello, there!” Gaster’s voice called out happily. “How are--oh my! What happened to your socket?”

“Red threw a toy at me.”

Edge hurried out to the living room to try to explain.

Gaster looked up at him, concern on his scarred features. “Hello, Edge,” he said calmly.

“It was my fault,” Edge admitted. “I wasn’t watching them as carefully as I should have. I promise you, Red has been punished.” He wouldn’t say that all he’d gotten was time out. He swallowed, suddenly hoping neither Gaster nor Rus would ask.

Red peeked around the corner, and Edge’s soul hurt at the expression on his tiny face. He had hoped and prayed so many times that Red wouldn’t remember what they’d been through before living on the streets, but that expression told him otherwise. Even if he didn’t remember specifics, he knew enough.

“i said i was sorry,” Red said softly, more a confession than a defiant statement.

To Edge’s surprise, Rus went over and kneeled down by Red. “of course you’re sorry, buddy. we don’t mean to hurt our friends, but sometimes we get cranky and it happens, right?”

Red nodded and reached out with both arms, a silent request for a hug. Rus scooped him up and hugged him tightly.

“are you okay?” Rus asked, bouncing Red lightly in his arms.

Red nodded, and the urge to pull him out of Rus’ arms was nearly overwhelming. Edge forced himself to stay where he was.

“And you?” Gaster asked, looking at Edge. “Are you okay?”

Him? “I--”

“He cried for a long time,” Blue said sadly. “But I couldn’t hug him because the door was locked.”

Edge swallowed thickly, his cheekbones heating up.

“Which door was locked?” Gaster asked curiously, an undertone of something perhaps more serious.

“The bathroom,” Blue replied. “He was in the bathroom.”

Tattletale.

Edge sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. He had to clear his throat before he could speak. “They weren’t alone for too long, Sir--I mean, Gaster.”

In truth, Edge had no idea how long they were alone. Probably more than an hour, which was entirely too long.

Gaster bent to put Blue down and then settled a hand on Rus’ shoulder. “Will you take the little ones to play for a moment? I’d like to have a word with Edge.”

Rus must have agreed because he coaxed the kids down the hall with promises of the best blanket fort in the world.

“Edge? Come sit down with me.”

Gaster didn’t touch him, not exactly. He reached out and almost set a hand on his shoulder like he did with his own son, stopping just before making contact. Edge only nodded and went with him to the living room. He knew what was going to happen next, and while he wasn’t prepared, he knew it was inevitable. It had been from the beginning.

They sat on the couch together, Gaster folding his hands in his lap.

“First and foremost, I want to assure you that I understand how you feel. Maybe not exactly, but close enough. I understand that bad days happen, especially when children are cranky. I can tell from Blue’s eyes that he didn’t nap today, and I’d say from what I saw of Red’s face that it was the same with him?”

Edge nodded, his gaze kept firmly on his knees.

“You’ve handled them so well, Edge, that I have no doubts you handled the situation today with care and love.”

That time Edge shook his head. He had to be honest. “No, I didn’t. They were alone in the bedroom and I didn’t even get up to check on them until they started arguing.”

“Why is that a bad thing?” Gaster asked.

Edge looked at him then, a little surprised. “Because I know how Red is. He’s got a temper when he’s well-rested, and today he was not.”

But Gaster smiled. “You’re right, he does have a temper. But that doesn’t mean you have to be there every moment to stop him from lashing out. What he needs is to learn that his actions have consequences and to understand that only he can control his anger.”

“But Blue--”

“Got hurt. Yes, he did, but that’s not your fault either. Not entirely. What I’m saying, Edge, is that I’m not going to kick you out or ask you to leave. Red needs a stable environment to learn how to control his temper, and you need a safe place to help teach him.”

Edge felt the tears begin to form in his sockets and tried to blink them away. He looked at Gaster for a moment before he could ask his next question.

“Why are you being so kind to us?”

Gaster smiled again, soft and comforting. “I know a thing or two about living on the streets, Edge. I never had a little brother to care for, though, and I can’t, in good conscience, let the two of you go back to that life.”

Edge nodded slowly, trying to wrap his mind around this new perspective. He and Red weren’t going to be homeless again. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“I didn’t start dinner,” he finally said.

“Well, that’s a different story then, isn’t it?” Gaster said, a tease in his voice. “I suppose punishment will have to be cooking with me.”

“Oh no,” Edge deadpanned, “please, not that.”

He couldn’t hide a smile in the face of Gaster’s laughter, and together they went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

[vanderlindeandco]

I have a Baird x Reader request. Baird and reader have always argued and fought with one another. Marcus, getting fed up with their bullshit sends them out on a mission to "work their shit out". Stuck with each other the rest of the day they start to confess how they really feel about each other. Thank youuu.

Your eyes opened slowly, a sound you couldn’t yet identify having woken you. You looked around sleepily. The sun was just beginning to come up outside and in the dim light you could see Baird sitting on the edge of his bed, a rapidly-disappearing something in a red wrapper crinkling in his hands. “You were done with this, right?” he said, holding up the candy bar.

“You-” your attempt at a sentence ended there, rage welling up inside you like lava. You pushed back the blankets and stood, stalking across the gap between the bunks. You snatched the candy from his hand, but it felt tiny in yours - it was all but gone. You’d found it in the bottom of a vending machine in a deserted building - they were always empty but you still checked in case you could find one of the snacks you used to love. The few bites you had enjoyed had been a much-needed respite from the bland and repetitive food on base. You’d forced yourself to save the bigger part of it, intending to spread it out throughout the week. But no, Baird couldn’t respect that, could he?

“I mean, you left it out,” he said remorselessly as you turned to go stow the remaining morsels in your footlocker. You didn’t answer, instead opting to flip him off over your soldier.

“Shut up, you two!” Marcus’s growl came from his bunk in the corner of the room. “You’re acting like children.”

“Yes, sir,” you said grudgingly, slipping on a pair of shoes to go the showers before your duties for the day began. “What a fucking dick,” you muttered as the door into the hall closed behind you.

When you got out of the shower, you found you had received a message from Marcus: Truck bay. 0800. That was- you glanced at your watch - one minute from now. You took off at a jog down the hall, reaching the truck bay slightly out of breath and just a few moments late. Marcus and Baird were waiting for you there, and it took all your resolve not to shoot Baird a filthy look. “Sergeant,” you said, saluting.

“At ease,” Marcus replied. “We finally have a solution for the corpser problem. We’ve just received a shipment of sensors that need to be placed outside the base. They’ll pick up seismic motion and notify us of any incoming corpsers. I need you to place them.”

“How many are there?” Baird asked.

“Thirty,” Marcus said. “They’ll be placed in a one hundred mile radius around base. You’ll take two quads. I’ve already uploaded the locations and installation instructions.”

“You know,” Baird said, “I know a lot about this kind of thing. I could just take care of it myself.”

“And get shot in the back of the head while you’re focusing?” Marcus said. “No, this is a two-man job. Get your stuff and get going. I expect to see you back in about a week.”

Just great.

“You know this is your fault, right?” Baird said as you walked back to the barracks.

You laughed, looking at him incredulously. “My fault?”

“Yeah, if you hadn’t been so loud, Marcus wouldn’t be punishing us.”

You scoffed, half-assed comebacks tangling in your mind. You couldn’t even put together a coherent sentence and just shook your head, carefully avoiding looking at the man next to you - to even see his face would have made you angrier.

You left in a stolid silence, a duffel bag filled with survival supplies, ammunition, and a spare set of fatigues strapped to the back of your quad. At least it was a nice day out, sky blue, and temperature cool enough that you weren’t sweating under your armor. Well, at least it was a nice day until Baird opened his mouth again. “You remember how to navigate? Cause I’m thinking I should be in front.”

“Yes,” you said pointedly. “I went through the same training you and everyone else did.”

“Just trying to be helpful,” he said, and it wasn’t what he said, but the exaggerated empathy in how he said it, that made you snap for the second time that day.

“Why are you like this?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, I’ve just got a heart of gold,” he said. “Unfortunately, I think you have to be born with it, so you might be out of luck.”

You swerved around a fallen lamppost, choosing not to answer him. It took a good hour of riding before you reached the location for the first sensor, and by then you were well out of the city and passing through long-since deserted neighborhoods. “I’ll cover you,” you said as Baird crouched with the Microminer, a tool that could quickly bore holes into the ground into which the sensors would be placed.

“Don’t need it,” Baird said.

“Fine. I’m going to look around.” Gnasher across your back, you crossed the street, peering through the broken front windows of a small house. The inside was dilapidated, raided, and stripped, little left but shattered glass and shredded furniture. You moved on, feeling a little saddened. The side door to the next house had been torn off its hinges and you stepped inside, the thick, dusty carpet muting your footsteps. You entered the living room, your eyes rapidly processing the locust crouched inside the broken windows, then tracking the aim of its hammerburst to Baird, crouched defenseless in the street, and even as his finger began to tighten on the trigger, you drew your Boltok from the hip, releasing a single bullet. The locust’s fingers loosened and it fell slack, collapsing to the floor with a thud.

“What the hell was that?” Baird had looked up at the shot, with apparently no idea at all of what you had done.

“I just saved your life.” You grabbed the grub by the back of its armor, hauling the body up to drape it over the window-ledge.

“Oh,” Baird said. “Thanks.” He nonchalantly went back to positioning the sensor and you pushed open the front door of the house to rejoin him in the street.

“Must be hard for you to know I was right,” you said.

“Right about what?” he asked, not looking up from his work.

“You needing cover,” you said.

“Eh, maybe,” Baird said. “I react quickly, and grubs usually don’t aim that well.”

“You are something else,” you said incredulously.

“Why thank you,” he said, shooting you a sunny smile that irritated you all the more.

“You just like to think you’re the best one in the room,” you said. “You always gotta prove yourself. And you never trust anyone.”

The smile disappeared, and he didn’t answer for a long moment. “Yeah well, maybe I am the best.” The response was lame, and it seemed you’d shaken him a little as he simply went back to his task without speaking further. It was nearly noon by the time you moved on from the first location and continued westward, away from base, until you were soon out of the neighborhoods and into the bomb-pocked, empty lands beyond. Marcus had plotted a course that would allow you to spend the nights in areas that used to be populated, which would at least allow for some cover, but the desertedness of the expanses outside the city was a little disconcerting, and it put you on edge, pushing Baird away from the focus of your mind.

Together, you were able to place three more sensors before darkness began to fall, and as the moon rose Baird placed the last one for the day next to the road in one of the old neighborhoods. You parked your quads behind a small house, covering them with an half-shredded tarp, and went inside to prepare for bed. You unstrapped your body armor, setting it aside so you could put on a long-sleeve shirt under it to stave off the night’s chill, and as you leaned down to pick up the shirt, your necklace swung out from inside the collar of your T-shirt. You tucked it away quickly, hoping Baird hadn’t noticed, but you had no such luck. “Were those diamonds? If you pawned that, you could finally get yourself some decent guns that aren’t like, fourth-time hand-me-downs.”

“I’m fine with what I’ve got,” you said, slipping on the other shirt before putting your armor back on. No one ever saw the necklace, and it felt wrong that he knew. It made you feel vulnerable.

“Where’s it from?” he asked.

“What, we’re just making conversation now?” you asked.

He tore open an MRE bag and licked away the bit of runny chili that leaked over the edge. “Why not?” “Well, because we’re not really, you know, friends?” you said.

Baird shrugged. “I’m bored.”

“That’s fair.” You paused, feeling the weight of the necklace against your chest. “It was my mother’s.”

“‘Was’?” Baird repeated.

“She died on E-Day,” you said. “She got me to safety and gave it to me. That was about it.” It was a time in your life that you tried very hard not to think about, which was why you dreaded speaking about it.

Baird nodded. “Lost my parents that day too… Wow, aren’t we cheerful?” You chose some food from your bag and ate; it was a little sketchy, as the MREs tended to be, but it filled your stomach, and by the time you were done you found yourself getting a little drowsy; it had been a long day.

“Man, if only we had some dessert,” Baird said with a smirk as he tossed his empty container into a dusty corner of the room.

You scowled at him. “You’ve had plenty.” You stood, grabbing your duffel bag, and rolled out your bedroll in the farthest corner of the room.

“What, you’re not even going to give me a kiss? On our first night together?” he called across the room. You crawled into your sleeping bag, turning your back to him. “Good night, honey,” he crooned, and you closed your eyes, trying to relax despite the new irritation.

*****

You woke first the next morning as the sun began to rise, its early beams weak. Baird was asleep on the other side of the room, tucked soundly into his sleeping bag. For a few moments you considered pulling a prank on him… But no, you were better than that. And besides, you couldn’t think of anything good. “Wake up,” you called as you began to roll up your sleeping bag but he didn’t budge. “Baird?” Nothing. You crossed the room and nudged him with your foot. “Wake up.” He was still peacefully sleeping, his face relaxed and his breathing slow. “All right, then. You’re asking for it.” You unholstered your Boltok and fired a shot into the floor a few feet from his head.

“What the fuck?” he jerked upright, stumbling to stand while still in his sleeping bag and lost his balance, hardly able to catch himself before his face hit the ground with his arms so restrained.

“You’re a hard sleeper,” you said. “C’mon. It’s time to go.”

He sputtered indignantly as he tried to disentangle himself but you didn’t wait around, instead going outside to uncover the quads.

When he joined you, it was with a scowl on his face, which meant there was a smile on yours. “How else was I supposed to wake you up?” you asked.

“You weren’t,” Baird said. “We could have slept in.”

“Anything I can do to get this over with more quickly, I’ll do,” you said.

“Wow, you really hate me that much? I must be doing something right,” he replied.

You weren’t going to let his crankiness spoil your mood, so you spoke no further, instead climbing onto your quad and revving the engine before pulling away. He followed, and when you glanced at his face in your rearview mirror, it was still sour. He needed some time. It was a productive day; by evening you were through with placing a third of the sensors, which put you slightly ahead of schedule. As before, Baird had insisted he didn’t need cover, but still you didn’t stray far just to be safe. You were a few buildings away, eyes on a vending machine that looked promising when you heard a shout and turned to see Baird still crouched facing you, a grub behind him with his gun to Baird’s temple. Behind you, there were sudden sounds of movement and you turned to see some five or eight more locust, all heavily armed, emerging from the surrounding buildings. They remained behind you, falling still fifteen feet or so away. The message was clear. Surrender or he dies. You considered giving in, but then you remembered what had happened to Maria and so many others that had been taken prisoner by the grubs. No, you and Baird were getting out of here.

You set down your gnasher - you could never hit the grub and avoid Baird with that gun - and slowly began to raise your hands in surrender, ignoring Baird shaking his head. You quickly scanned the street, eyes settling on an old sedan parked some five feet away - that would be your cover. The grub holding Baird hostage relaxed as you neared a position of full surrender and that was all the window you needed - you drew your Boltok, sighting down the hefty barrel and loosing a shot before you dove for cover as the guns behind you began to spray. The grub holding Baird went down and he ducked behind his quad, resting the barrel of his lancer on the seat as he began to take out the grubs. From your position behind the car you drew your rifle likewise, beginning to pick them off; they hadn’t expected to need cover and so they had very little, and soon the last one fell.

“Don’t say it!” Baird said as he rose from behind his quad.

“What, that I told you so?” you said pointedly and he groaned.

“Yeah, that.”

“I saved your life,” you said. “Again.” You picked up your gnasher and began to search the dead grubs for any ammo or supplies that could be useful to you.

“What other choice did you have?” he asked.

“I could have let them have you and booked it out of here,” you said. “But I wouldn’t have.”

“No, of course not,” he said.

“Out of curiosity, why do you think that is?” you asked. By now, you had reached Baird, who had finished the placement of the sensor earlier and was now burying it.

“Because you’d miss me, obviously,” he said, standing and brushing the dirt off his hands.

��What’s there to miss?” you asked.

“All right, all right, you did it because it’s the ‘right thing to do,’” the last part came in a mocking tone. “I get it. Get off your high horse.” There were some times you could tolerate him - mainly when he wasn’t speaking - but there were also times that you just couldn’t keep your mouth closed. It had gotten you into trouble before and you were sure it would many more times, but you didn’t regret your honesty. Your conflict with him had gone on too long; it was poisoning your experience as part of the best squad you had ever been on, and it was turning the others against the two of you. And you were frustrated with him for more reasons than perhaps you were being honest with yourself about.

“You know, before I was transferred to Delta, I’d heard a lot about you,” you said. “One thing I heard was that you do a damn good job at hiding that you’re actually a decent person.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his tone confrontational.

“Yeah. My question is - are you really hiding anything? Or is this all you are? Cause I was a little starstruck by you when I first came over. I liked you. Then as soon as I got to know you, all the macho-ness and sarcasm took over - maybe that’s all there ever was and I just got tired of putting up with it.”

He didn’t answer immediately, and you couldn’t read his expression. Finally he said, his voice quieter than before, “You don’t realize how much the squad changed when you joined. I thought you were just going to be another soldier, you’d be another gun and some extra manpower.” He took a slow breath, his face conflicted. “But then everyone liked you. I liked you. Things changed. Instead of taking me on missions, Marcus started bringing you sometimes. When I was going to go on recon with Dom like we always used to, he’d be training with you instead.”

He was jealous? The Damon Baird, the blonde genius, was jealous?

“I don’t know if you realize how long we’ve known each other and how long we’ve been friends,” he said. “But it all changed when you came, and I didn’t appreciate that.”

“Was it fair to take it out on me, though?” you asked tentatively. You hadn’t expected the honesty and the last thing you wanted to do was push him back into his shell.

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But you want to know the worst part? I wanted just the same thing I was pissed at them for. When I was going out to fix comm towers and satellites, I wanted to bring you with me. But you distracted me.”

“I did?” You remembered your first weeks with the squad. You’d known about Delta’s reputation, and you had spent the first stretch of your time with them somewhat in awe, trying to learn as much as you could. You remembered those missions with Baird. You had been nowhere near as forthcoming as you were now; you had been the perfect soldier.

“You didn’t mean to,” Baird said. “But you did.”

“You liked me,” you said, shocked.

“Don’t get a big head,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly. “But yeah, kinda. That’s in the past.”

“Is it?” you asked. “Because we obviously still have a problem.” That was generous - the problem was pretty much all on his end, but you knew you needed to handle it carefully. You hadn’t realized how close you were to him in the intensity of the conversation, but now, in the tense pause, you realized how blue his eyes were and how appealing, even chapped, his full lips appeared. Honesty looked good on him.

“You said you liked me,” he asked tentatively. “At first?”

You hated that your cheeks flushed, but they did, and you couldn’t help it. “So did you!” you said, realizing how childish the words sounded only when they had left your lips. His hand landed on your lower back and something caught deep in your stomach, a wavering tension. He drew you closer and you felt yourself willingly going as you looked up into his bright eyes so close, looking for an answer. He left it up to you and you took the chance, craning up into a kiss, gentle and searching, passionate but careful. He drew back just slightly, a familiar smirk appearing on his face, “I knew you were secretly in love-”

“Shut up,” you said as you wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, weaving your fingers through his hair, and pulled him back in.

The strangest thing about it was that being so tender with a man you had spent the last three months hating felt so right. At first, you had been fully aware of your attraction to him, but after things changed, his behavior had repressed it to the point you nearly forgot it had ever happened. But all those original feelings were rekindled now, warm and curious deep inside you.

When at last you pulled back, you just stood there for a moment, a little shell-shocked. “Are you gonna be back to the old you now?” you asked finally. “Not the candy-bar stealing whiny you?”

“I’m gonna be honest with you and make no promises about candy bars,” he said. “But I’ll do my best. And you’ll stop second-guessing everything I say and getting me in trouble?” “I’ll only do it when you deserve it,” you said.

“That’s fair,” he said. “All right, let’s get moving.”

It was about a two-hour ride to the next location, and you rode mostly in silence apart from the sound of the vehicles. As Baird revved up the Microminer, you said, “Please tell me you won’t resist me covering you this time.”

“What’re you talking about?” He looked up at you with a bright smile. “I don’t need it!”

“You son of a bitch!” you exclaimed, though you were laughing. “I’m doing it anyway.” “Suit yourself,” he said, setting to work.

*****

“How’d it go?” Marcus asked as the two of you reported back to him several days later upon finishing the mission.

“Well,” Baird said. “We got them all placed. No issues.”

“Yeah, except him almost getting himself killed a few different times,” you said. “But I took care of that.”

“I-”

“I did!” you said, cutting off Baird’s protests.

“…Yeah,” he admitted.  

That was all Marcus needed. He could see his purpose had been fulfilled, and there would be peace in the squad again. “Good. Go talk to Henry and fill out the relationship paperwork.”

“Excuse me?” you asked.

“Soldiers in relationships. There’s paperwork to be done,” Marcus said.

“Who said we’re in a relationship?” Baird asked.

“Did you ever wonder why I chose the two of you for that?” Marcus asked. “I need you to get along. I figured you’d have a couple days of arguing before you’d break down and remember how much you used to like each other, and then you’d be back to where you were two months ago.”

“Did they do it?” Cole’s voice interrupted the conversation as he and Dom rounded the corner.

Marcus nodded. “Ha!” Dom said. “I knew it! Hand it over, Cole.”

Cole grumbled, but handed Dom a finely-crafted bowie knife, which Dom stuck in his belt.

“What was the bet?” Baird asked.

“I thought you’d be together by the end of this mission, and Cole thought one of you would have seriously injured the other,” Dom said.

“I came pretty damn close,” you said.

“Oh, you weren’t the only one,” Baird countered.

“Save it for the bedroom,” Cole interrupted, face painted with exaggerated revolt.

“Get out of here,” Marcus said, but the corners of his lips had quirked into a smile before you turned to go.

“See you around,” you said to Baird, planning to head to the bathrooms for a much-needed shower.

“Yep. Hey.”

You had turned to leave, but the word stopped you.

“Thanks for covering me,” he said, true earnestness in his eyes for once.

“You’re welcome.”

[ansgar-martinsson]

Fair Winds and a Following Sky - Part 6

Ulrikagatan 20, Östermalm, Stockholm, 20 July

Anna’s backpack fell from her slack fingers, hitting the travertine floor with a definitive thunk. “What the hell...?” Her eyes blew wide, her mouth gaped as she stepped past him and into the entryway. “This is your place? Holy shit, Alan!”

“Ansgar,” he corrected. 

“Alan, Ansgar. Whatever,” she waved a hand dismissively. 

“No, not whatever. My name is Ansgar, and that is what you will call me.” He’d grasped her tightly by the upper arm, halting her progress into the expanse of his living room. “Do you understand?”

“Let me go... Ansgar,”  she spat, tugging against his grip. He held her tighter, his lip curling at the weaponized use of his name. In return, she glared at him, her previously tired eyes now almost aflame. “Ansgar. There, you happy now? Is that better?” She yanked back with a small grunt, freeing herself, and rubbed at her arm. 

“Much better,” he growled, peering fastidiously down at her. As suddenly as his pique came on, it vanished from his features, replaced by a tour-guide smile, an accommodating glint in the eyes. He gestured, indicating the various areas of his immense flat. “Living room here, reading nook and bookcase there, breakfast kitchen in front, main and prep kitchens are behind those swinging doors. Formal dining there,” he pointed. “Game room and gym toward the end of the left hallway, all four bedrooms, including mine, along the right. French doors lead to the patio, hot tub, sauna, and lap pool.” 

He eyed her sideways, gauging her reaction. She seemed, in his estimation, to deflate a little as he went on, the anger and fury dissipating, replaced by a reasserting fatigue, perhaps she was even a bit dumbfounded. “I will make no part of my flat off limits to you as you did me,” he said evenly, “but I only ask that you don’t touch my Steinway.”

“What’s that? I don’t even know what a Steinway is.”  

Ansgar stepped towards it, indicating the black and red piano that rest in an alcove just off the circular living room. “It’s a piano; a grand piano,” he said. “I just had it tuned and it’s... it’s something dear to me. Mine, you see, and I’m rather possessive of it.”

She shrugged, her eyes fluttering. “I don’t even play, don’t worry.” Her head lolled forward, but snapped back up, her face screwed up in a confused moue. “Wait. You... you play piano?”

He smiled and held his hands out wide. “Another surprise, ja?”

“I thought you were just a carpenter,” she shook her head, running her hand down her face.

“Well,” he turned his hand over, inspecting his fingernails. “I’m not, really just a carpenter. I have other skills as well. Besides, there’s no such thing as just a carpenter,” he quipped. “It’s a highly skilled trade, I’ll have you know, one that takes years of training to master. Come. Follow me.” He led her down the right hallway to the first bedroom. “You’ll take this room. There’s a full cadre of toiletries, a bath, and a shower in there. I suggest you use it. You look like you’ve been through the wars and you smell like a distillery.”

She frowned at him, affronted. “I do not smell! I haven’t had anything to drink since the flight here.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged. “But I’d say that’s part of your current predicament.”

“What is?”

“The booze. Believe me, I’ve been there.”

“What... what pre-pre-predicament?” A sudden wave of exhaustion, an almost blinding need for sleep crashed over her at the sight of the immense, white-linened bed, at the stack of pillows on it, at the very thought of a scalding hot shower, at the possibility of hours and hours of uninterrupted sleep - no fear, no worrying, no plane engines, no smell of rancid pot, or snoring, stinking teenage backpackers. She swayed where she stood, her eyes rolling back in her head. “I think... I think I need to lie down.”

“Christ, Anna,” Ansgar stepped quickly forward, catching her deftly before she fell. “Got you. I’ve got you. Up you get now, come on, darling.” He shifted her nearly dead weight, all but tossing her upon the bed. “Ups a daisy.”

“So tired. God, I’m so tired.”

“Not surprised,” Ansgar said. “Between whatever it was you had to... come on now,” he lifted her legs up onto the bed and pulled off one shoe, “whatever you drank on the plane, which was obviously quite a bit... that was your first mistake there, darling.” He continued to talk as he removed her other soft sandal, her necklaces, as he unclipped the turquoise and silver barrette from her hair, shifted the pillows, and pulled down the duvets. “One should never ever overindulge on a trans-Atlantic flight. Going east to west, perhaps, but never going west to east. The jet lag is murder in and of... there you go, tuck under there, yes... in and of itself, but add a few potent potables to the mix and you’re dead on arrival.”

“Mmm, okay. You still talk funny, though.”

He huffed a single chortle through his nose. “I’m aware. You get some rest now. You need it.”

She wriggled down into the sheets, turning herself on her side toward him, the blanket tucked up around her chin. “Alan...,” she muttered, and reached for him.

“Ansgar,” he corrected, more gently that time. 

“Ansgar,” she echoed muzzily, her voice muffled by the draw of sleep and the cover of the blankets. Her hand found his and she squeezed, weakly, but squeezed nonetheless. “I’m... I think... I think I’m gonna go to sleep now.”

“You do that,” he squeezed back, leaned over and brushed her hair from her forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Then you can tell me all about why you’re here.”

“Mmkay,” she whispered. “Promise?”

“Promise what?”

“Promise...you’ll... you’ll stay. Not leave... not again.”

He chuckled. “I live here, darling. I’m not going anywhere.”

Nowhere, Oklahoma

“I’m just about finished with the repairs,” he reported, tipping his bowl to scrape the last drops up with his spoon. “Going to pick up the paint and rent the sprayer from the Farm Co-op after lunch, and I can get that done by supper, I think. If not at least by sundown.” He put on a falsely pitiful moue, held his bowl between his two hands and looked up at her, his voice a high-pitched imitation of a begging child. “Missus! Oh, Missus! May I have some more, please?”

Her back still to him, she sighed as she stirred the large pot on the stove. She swallowed, her heart squeezed tight. A breath, a nod, and she turned, her smile now bright, yet eyes slightly dulled. “Do you deserve it, young man?” she mocked back. “Only the best boys get seconds.”

He laughed as he pushed himself from the chair, stepped beside her and ladled out another serving for himself. “I fixed your barn, didn’t I? I think that makes me a very good boy.” 

She, too, laughed, but hers was tinged with just that amount of sadness. “Took you long enough,” she joked. 

“Not my fault your barn was full of dry rot, about to collapse on top of all your horses. And besides,” he sat back down at the table, garnishing his chili with a handful of shredded cheese, “three weeks is pretty damn good time for one man to practically rebuild a barn by himself.” To emphasize his point, he shoved a massive spoonful into his mouth, grinning up at her, closed-mouthed, as he chewed. 

Not enough time, she thought.

“So,” she brought her bowl to the table and sat beside him. She rest her chin in her hand, elbow on the table as she watched him eat. “You still plan on leaving when you finish?”

He nodded, swallowed, lifted his glass, and took a long ice-clinking pull of sweet tea. “That’s the idea,” he replied, licking his lips.

“Hm.” She took a deep inhale and blew the breath out on puffed cheeks. “I guess that was the idea, wasn’t it.”

He set his spoon down, and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Why do you ask?” 

“I guess,” she sighed, setting down her own spoon, “I guess... I was hoping you’d stay... maybe... for just a bit longer.”

“Why, Anna?” He cocked his head, brow furrowed. “I didn’t think you even liked me that much.”

“Oh, I like you fine,” she replied. She bowed her head, idly picking dirt from beneath one of her fingernails. “I do. In fact, I... like having you around, there I said it. I don’t want you to leave. I... I like your company, that’s all.”

“My... company?”

“Yeah.”

“Just my company?”

“Yeah.”

“And that’s all you like about me?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“What about your husband’s family? Don’t you have them for company?”

She sniggered. “Come on, Alan, you’ve met them. They fucking hate me.”

He pushed his bowl aside, leaned forward and took her hand in his. “Maybe it’s about time you tell me why, hm? Why did Brian Travidge attack you last week? Why did that foul behemoth Will confront me at the Co-op yesterday? Why are you getting letters from your mother in law’s attorneys - and don’t lie to me, I’ve seen the envelopes on the table.... What is it that this family has against you?”

Her face hardened. “It’s not your business. Just... just forget it. Forget I said anything.” She pushed up from the table, but he immediately stilled her, keeping a firm grip on her hand. “Alan. Please. Forget it.”

“No,” he said, standing with her. “I’m not going to forget it. If I’m going to stay, I need to know what is going on.”

Tears welled, coating her brown, almond shaped eyes with a bright sheen of tears. Her face crumpled, and she sat down hard upon the kitchen chair. She dropped her head into the crook of her elbow, fingers digging into and gripping the crown of her dark hair. “They think...,” she began, her voice muffled, thick with sorrow, fear, regret, “they say that I killed Charlie, my husband. That he had his heart attack... that he... that he died... because... because of me.” 

[evil-overlord-scriptology]

But I Don’t Want to be a Sensei! Pt. 6 (ARCHIVED)

Chapters 18 & 19

Chapter 18: Prank Wars, Revenge of the Siblings!

vvv 3rd POV~ Sasuke vvv

 A girly shriek resounded all throughout the Compound, followed by Obito yelling for Yanagi. On Itachi's other side, Shisui barked a laugh, “How much you want to bet Yagi-chan shoved a beetle down Obito-senpai's shirt again?” Sasuke gave his brother's best friend an annoyed look. It had been one of the few times that Itachi was willing to spend time with him, and Shisui came and ruined it!

 Itachi-nii had told him once that Shisui used to be close to Yanagi and Obito. It bothered Sasuke even more not knowing why his cousins and Shisui drifted apart. He suspected it had something to do with Yanagi-sensei. Both Shisui and Obito-itoko weren't the kind of people to drop a friend, but Yanagi definitely was.

 Itachi shrugged at his best friend's question, “It's that or chili pepper again.” Naruto had told Sasuke about that one. Somehow Naruto had ended up at Yanagi's house for dinner yesterday and she had dumped an entire container of chili powder in Obito's food as the first prank of the war. The next day Obito approached Sasuke and Naruto with a proposition for helping him in a prank, which they agreed to, stupidly.

 Had Itachi-nii not intervened, Sasuke hadn't a doubt that Yanagi might actually have broken his arm the way she flung him around. Though she earned a harsh reprimand from the Hokage and Sasuke's father, Yanagi was back the next day throwing a bee hive at Obito's face.

 It went on from there for the next several days. Pranks ranged from exploding flour bombs, which irritated Aunt Uruchi to no end since they had stolen her best flour, to elaborate pranks involving squirrels, super glue, and a healthy amount of some type of itching salve flinched from Obito's female teammate. There was even a rumor flying around that Yanagi had bodily thrown an Academy student at her brother.

 Prank Wars between Yanagi and Obito were a serious business as well as an entertaining one. Someone, Sasuke suspected one of Obito's friends, had started a betting pool on who would win this war. Had Kaa-chan not explicitly told her sons to not bet a single yen, or else, Sasuke would have placed his money on Yanagi-sensei.

 He already knew how ruthless his sensei could be.

 vvv Normal POV vvv

 Obito: 28 Yanagi: 27

 “Would you be quiet?!” I hissed to the two quarreling genin behind me as Obito came into view. Naruto and Sasuke blanched and finally shut their traps, they had already learned earlier this week that I was very irritable and quite violent if my pranks messed up because they couldn't shut their damn mouths.

 Obito-nii passed Checkpoint One and didn't notice a thing. Giggling under my breath, my fingers slowly tightened on the ninja wire I held. the feel of it's sharp metal biting into the pads of my fingers was wonderful and made me almost giddy with the near accomplishment of my newest prank.

 ...Checkpoint Two…

 ...Three…

 The thin beige covering on the pothole I had Naruto prepare last night gave under Nii-san's foot. I saw my brother pause and look down confused when seemingly solid ground collapsed. “Now!” I roared and yanked on the ninja wire, releasing the chakra-reinforced bamboo cage that Kakashi-nii had prepared for me.

 Obito yelped when the cage landed, it's sharpened poles digging into the ground so it would be hard to get out. I knew it wouldn't hold him long, my brother was called the Uchiha Phantom for a reason, but it would hold long enough for the prank.

 The one eyed Uchiha snapped around to glare at me when I stood up in triumph. “You think this can hold me?” He growled. Oh Kami, it was like Nii-san had jumped out of some cheesy festival play that Mikoto-oba was addicted to. I still remember being subjected to those horrors all throughout my childhood. Obito, Itachi and I all avoided festivals with a passion because of those dreaded plays Mikoto-oba dragged us to every year when we were young.

 Sasuke, the lucky bastard, never had to face the horror of cheesy plots and drama.

 I decided to play along with it, “May you rot in eternity, Nii-san, for your crimes against the public!” I said with flair and a poker face that made the ANBU masks full of expression.

 Obito's flat 'you are so dead to me' look was beyond priceless.

 Kakashi-nii landed beside me before I could disturb my poor brother even further, “We have a schedule, Yanagi, stick to it.” The masked jounin reminded me.

 I waved a hand, “Alright alright.” I grumbled then raised my voice, “First wave! Forward!”

 Out of no where, known victims of Obito's past pranks appeared, holding balloons filled with paint, glue, water, and oil. Kakashi and I grinned at the now terrified Obito; well I think Kakashi-nii grinned, it was hard to tell with that mask of his. This was what Nii-san got for tripping me, and Kakashi who had been walking beside me, into the Naka river yesterday. It had been an accident, but Obito made the foolish choice to claim it was a prank to break the tie we had been in for the past four days. In retaliation, Kakashi changed loyalties and together we planned the Ultimate (Flowering Lotus) Prank to End All (Youthful) Pranks as Gai had put it.

 Kakashi-nii was ever so helpful to grab me and shunshin the both of us to a rooftop out of firing range. “Fire!” I screamed and as one, colorful balloons soared towards the poor little bamboo cage and the well deserving victim trapped inside. I watched gleefully as my brother slowly turning into a multicolored, gooey blob.

 “Second wave! Approach!” I called out once the first wave was out of ammunition. This time it was Obito's friends, and their students, who showed up, sporting large bags made of burlap. These were filled with sand, glitter, flour, and chicken feathers. Genma joined Kakashi and I on the roof, a clipboard in hand, as Kakashi waved the second wave to start their attack. Obito's growling threats of recompense was music to my ears; sadly I had to ignore it in favor of Genma.

 Several years ago, when the first Prank War started, Genma asked for neutrality from all our pranks in return that he be the Record Keeper; that way there was no dispute on who won the war. Over the years Genma's job slowly evolved into not only keeping up with the record, but also judging the pranks and awarding points based on creativity, ruthlessness, and complexity. He also kept up with the loyalties of Kakashi– which changed often enough that even Kakashi couldn't keep up with it– the irritability of superiors, namely Fugaku and the Hokage, and controlled the betting pool that always cropped up when Prank Wars started.

 The senbon wielder looked at the scene below us, then at the two of us. “Kakashi is on your side now?” Genma asked. I let Kakashi answer that one and watched him with my sharingan activated. During the fifth Prank War, Kakashi had played the dirty double agent to sabotage my pranks. Since then I never really trusted him again, at least when it came to pranks. Luckily for Kakashi, I could tell he wasn't lying, otherwise he would join Nii-san in the cage and become target practice for genin.

 Genma studied the scene below him with the intensity of a building inspector, “Hm… I'll give you three points, the ruthlessness of the prank is somewhat lacking. As is the creativity, I've seen you do better than that Yanagi-chan. But I have to give you credit for the complexity.” Genma eyed me, “What did you do to get everyone to go along with this?”

 I smirked, “Secret.” I quipped. I would never give out my pranking methods any more than I would give away blackmail unless I got something out of it.

 There was a small beep and Genma and I turned around to see Kakashi looking at a timer. He turned his single eye on me, “Time's up.”

 “For what?”

 Instead of answering, the sneaky little bastard gave me his famous eye smile and jumped into the fray to release Obito. There was a stillness on the battlefield and my brother slowly climbed out of the cage, wiping off large globs of stickiness and flinging it at anyone close by. Then Obito slowly turned to glare at me. His single eye was glowing red with the sharingan.

 Shit.

 “Damn you, Kakashiiiii!” I shrieked as I hightailed it out of there. Nii-san was close on my heels and hands outstretched and fingers hooked, ready to catch me or strangle me I didn't care to find out.

 vvv

 Obito: 49 Yanagi: 52

 I yawned as the Hokage went on and on about representing the shinobi population to the citizens of Konoha and how it was our duty to uphold and respect the citizenry of the village we protected… or something like that. I was just happy that the prank went as well as it did. There had been a fifty percent chance that the prank could have ended worse than it did. Honestly, what I had predicted as the best outcome turned out to be far worse than what actually happened.

 Wasn't my fault that the oldest restaurant in the village, which was said to have been built by the Shodaime himself with the first Mokuton houses when Konoha was founded, went up in flames.

 I got good points from Genma for the impromptu firework show though.

 “…silly feud will stop now! I've indulged you long enough, but now that you are endangering the lives of this village it will stop, do you understand me?” The Hokage ranted as he paced back and forth in front of my brother and I.

 “Yes sir!” Obito responded immediately, his single eye forward and hardened with formality. Hiruzen-sama was the person whom Obito respected the most, after the Yondaime. Like Naruto, Obito seemed to think of the old man as a grandfather figure. However unlike Naruto, Nii-san knew that Hiruzen would first and foremost be our Hokage before he was a grandfather type and treated the old man with a little more respect than my blonde student.

 “…Yes sir.” I answered a beat after Obito, slightly rebellious and with very little respect. Mostly because I now owed money to Anko in a personal bet of who would end the War: Fugaku or the Hokage. The one time I was expecting the Uchiha clan leader to end something, and the old codger didn't even lift a damn finger.

 I hate my uncle.

 vvv

 “Okay, two D-rank missions today.” I said as way of greeting once all three of my brats showed up. After the Hokage had chewed Obito and I out yesterday for the pranks, he practically threw the two missions at me, saying that they were special requests for Team 7.

 Not only did Naruto groan, but so did Sasuke. “D-rank? We completed an A-rank mission, shouldn't we get better missions now?” I was mildly surprised that it was Sasuke who complained. But then, he was a cocky little shit and probably thought that since we survived an A-rank mission, we didn't need puny D-ranks anymore.

 I pegged Sasuke with one of the scrolls, “Stop complaining! Team 7 was extremely lucky to survive that mission and neither the Hokage or I are willing to put untested genin back into that situation so soon.” I didn't tell them that, because of the Wave mission, every C-rank mission was closed to all genin teams until they were verified on their true mission rank. Fifteen missions had already been changed to a higher standard and the clients fined huge sums because of their dishonesty.

 Sasuke glared at me as he rubbed the side of his head where the scroll had hit him, but he said nothing. Naruto, however, wasn't so keen on keeping his mouth shut, “Yeah, but if they give us a proper C-rank then we shouldn't have a problem, right?!”

 Boy was his logic flawed.

 My last scroll hit home, right down Naruto's face. There was a second of stillness as his body teetered for balance, before the blonde idiot toppled over. Not a moment later, Dumbass sat up with a very amusing red mark dividing his face in half, “Hey!”

 I gave him a distasteful look, “Team 7 is cursed with bad luck. Whatever C-rank we get is bound to go wrong. Hell, you can't even complete half of the D-ranks without messing something up.”

 “Doesn't mean you can throw things at your students!”

 “It's practice.”

 “For who?!”

 “For you to dodge. That could have been an enemy kunai and you would be dead, congratulations. Now give me the scroll back. You too, Duckass.” I countered dryly. Both came flying end of end towards me at a rabid pace, Sasuke's a smidgen faster than Naruto's scroll. I grabbed Sasuke's out of the air before it could strike me in the chest and let Naruto's fly over my shoulder to hit a random tree behind me. “Work on your aim too, Dumbass.” I commented as I walked to retrieve the scroll he had thrown.

 Hinata seemed to be tired of our antics when I returned to stand in front of them, “Y-you said we have t-two missions, S-sensei?” She prompted.

 Mentally I ticked off a check mark. Getting Hinata to initiate a conversation: Done!

 “Yes, and we're in luck!” My sarcasm was almost tangible, “The Hokage gave us two special request missions.” Special request missions rarely involved D-ranks, and they were normally babysitting missions for teams that had a special handle for kids. I knew for damn sure that whatever the missions were, they couldn't be a babysitting mission. No sane parent would trust the Kyuubi brat to babysit their spawn, let alone two anti-social Uchiha. While it might be bragging rights to say that the Hyuuga heiress had babysat your unholy imp it wasn't worth it to have the two walking disasters and their violent sensei under the same roof.

 Sasuke scrunched his nose up in displeasure, “If it's the Capture Tora mission again...” At that all three of my genin shuddered while I laughed. There was nothing quite amusing as seeing an Uchiha scared of a cat. In fact, as far as I knew only Itachi had never been afraid of Tora. Even I had been when I was still a genin.

 “No, but there will be cats on a mission. Nekobaa wants us to-”

 Naruto cut me off, “No. Way! I'm not going to clean that weird lady's house again!”

 “…Wants us to-”

 “Not doing it! Go tell the Hokage that I refuse to go there again!”

 “Dumbass, if you interrupt me again, I'll personally lock you in a room with Nekomata-sama and say you are a dog lover!” I snapped impatiently. Only Sasuke really got the levity of my threat, but Hinata at least got an inkling of what it entailed when she saw Sasuke staring at me in horror.

 Naruto just shrugged, “Eh, so what? It's not like this Nekomata guy can do anything to me.”

 “Lord Nekomata happens to be the Boss summon of the Uchiha clan. And do you know what summon the Uchiha clan uses?” I didn't wait for any of them to try and answer, “Cats.”

 Now Naruto was understanding what exactly I was getting at. He gulped and laughed nervously, trying to play my threat off as a joke. I simply stared at him through narrowed eyes until he finally shut up.

 “Now, as I was saying. Nekobaa wants us to come pick up the newest order and transport it to the Clan Compound. We'll be going to Sora-ku to Nekobaa's shop tomorrow and will be gone all day. That means that you have the rest of today to complete your other mission.” I tossed the other scroll at Hinata, who scrambled to catch it.

 “Wait, what about you?” Sasuke asked me.

 I waved a dismissive hand, “I've got other things to do. By the way, if you screw this mission up, I'm signing all of you up for a very special training regimen.” I smiled in such a way that Team 7 knew whatever 'special training' I had in mind would be torture for them.

 After tossing training ideas around with Asuma and Kurenai, I learned that the best motivator to get the job done right was to threaten my brats with Gai.

 It's how Asuma got his lazyass genius to do things.

 Mock saluting my trio of brats I disappeared with a puff of smoke as I shunshined the hell out of there. Rin had announced that she would pay for any jounin kunoichi who showed up at one of the local hot springs. The fun part was she didn't tell us which one, only that if we didn't arrive by noon then she wouldn't pay for us.

 Sometimes Nii-san influenced Rin too much, but I was fine with that.

 vvv 3rd POV vvv

 Team 7 all sighed when Yanagi-sensei disappeared. Sometimes it felt like she was only babysitting them and not actually trying to teach them to be true ninjas. In fact the only time she even bothered to teach the genin something, it was during the Wave mission. For the weeks afterwards, Yanagi was too busy with her pranks to even bother paying attention to her students and her negligence was starting to show.

 “D-rank M-mission,” Hinata read off the scroll Yanagi-sensei had given her, “B-babysitting.” At that Naruto groaned. Hinata gave her crush a side glance, blushing, before continuing, “B-babysitting H-h-ho-hokage-sama's g-grand-s-son, K-Konohamaru.”

 Naruto stopped his dramatics and perked up, “Konohamaru? Really? Yes!” He cheered. This was a mission he could stand! Nothing like getting to hang out with his kohai and getting paid for it!

 Sasuke bit back a sigh. He could already tell that this was going to be a disaster.

 vvv

 “Hey! Hey boss! I'm appointing you the leader of the Konohamaru Corps! And your first mission is to find the red four-leaf clover!” Konohamaru shouted the second he saw Naruto.

 Naruto blinked at him for a moment, then exchanged a confused glance with Sasuke, who only shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Sasuke did not pretend to understand younger kids. Most Uchiha children were treated more like adults than kids, and as a result they often had a more mature mentality than the rest of their age mates.

 “What's this Konohamaru Corp?” Naruto finally asked, feeling like it was the safest question he could ask his little kohai. Even Naruto understood that there were somethings you were better off not knowing, especially when it came to Konohamaru.

 The kid puffed out his chest and planted his fists on his hips, “It's a newly established renovation corps of Konohagakure!”

 Naruto seemed to like that answer, he grinned hugely, “Oh? And how many members do we have so far?”

 The scarf-wearing little boy touched his index finger to his chin as he pretended to think, then pointed up at Naruto, “Well there's you, the leader, and me, the lieutenant general...”

 Naruto posed, “And and?”

 “And that's it for now!” Konohamaru ended joyously. Naruto deflated like a balloon.

 “What?! You should have told me it was just a game, dattebayo!” The blonde shouted.

 Konohamaru continued as if he hadn't heard his senpai. Instead he was staring at the rest of Team 7 standing awkwardly in the doorway, “I guess they could join too.”

 Naruto squinted at the two genin standing behind him, “Ne ne, I don't mind Hinata-chan, but Sasuke-teme can't be in the Konohamaru Corps!”

 Sasuke scoffed, “Like I want to… loser.”

 Konohamaru interrupted before a fight could break out, “Now, as I said we have a very important and dangerous mission! We must find the red four-leaf clover!”

 “K-Konohamaru-kun… we c-can't do d-dan-dangerous missions. W-we have to baby-babysit you.” Hinata interjected but Konohamaru waved her off.

 “Don't worry! There isn't anything that can defeat Naruto-nii-san! We'll be fine!” If Sasuke was a laughing person, he would have lost it just then. Naruto? Unbeatable? Maybe against a fly, but then again maybe not.

 Before Naruto could puff up at the lies, Sasuke did a very 'Yanagi-like' thing and bopped him upside the head. “We're supposed to babysit you, Konohamaru, not go off on a wild goose chase for some dumb plant.”

 The young Uchiha regretted it instantly when Konohamaru turned large watery puppy eyes on him, “Please, you don't understand!” Konohamaru bowed his head and looked at his hands, “There's this girl in the Academy. Her name is Yoshino Kaede and she's very cute...”

 “So what's the problem?” Sasuke asked rudely. He couldn't stand little idiots with their ridiculous crushes, be they boy or girl.

 Konohamaru sniffled, “She's leaving tomorrow...” He said dejectedly. “That's why I wanna get the red four-leaf clover. Because Kaede's friends said that if she got it, her wish to stay can come true and she can stay in the village.”

 “Alright then!” Hinata and Konohamaru jumped at the sudden outburst from Naruto, “Well go get that red clover and you can give it to the girl you love!”

 At that Konohamaru went completely red. He never said he loved Kaede-chan, just that he thought she was cute! With her teal colored hair and eyes and kind smile… a lot of the boys in the Academy thought she was the cutest girl in their class! And the nicest. And the smartest. And the one who brought the best sweets because her mother was a fantastic cook!

 “Hold on! We're here to babysit him, not to go off on a stupid quest. Do you even know where this clover is?” Sasuke protested, trying to be the voice of reason. Unfortunately, Naruto was already sold to Konohamaru's plea and Hinata wouldn't take sides because she wasn't one to raise unnecessary conflict.

 “In Akagahara…”

 Sasuke deadpanned at the ten year old. “Akagahara? Really? You're going to risk your life for some stupid clover for a girl you'll never see again?”

 Naruto gave his teammate the stink eye, “You know you're really starting to sound like Frizzy-sensei...” He commented before giving his best grin to the downtrodden Konohamaru, “Don't worry about the bastard, we'll get your clover, dattebayo! Teme can stay here if he's such a wuss.”

 A shiver ran up Sasuke's spine. He was not a wuss! He just didn't want Yanagi-itoko after his head for not stopping the Honorable Grandson from being killed!

 “Besides,” Naruto continued, “Konohamaru will go after the clover whether we do something or not, so isn't better if we go along and make sure he doesn't get hurt? To babysit Konohamaru, we have to be with him right?” Since when did Naruto become so manipulative?

 Sasuke swore the dead last was hanging around Yanagi too much if he was starting to act like her. The young Uchiha opened his mouth, ready to protest the stupidity of their plan, when Hinata suddenly spoke, “N-Naruto-kun is right, S-S-Sasuke-san.”

 Now Sasuke knew he had lost the battle. He threw up his hands and glowered at the wall, “Fine. But I'm blaming Naruto when Yanagi comes after us.” Naruto and Konohamaru waved away his threat, not even caring. They had gotten the sourpuss to agree to go! And that was all that mattered.

 vvv

 “Man… patrol here is always so boring. It's not like someone is ever going to get in...” Denryoku remarked as he thumped his sore shoulder with a fist. That new captain of theirs was a true slave driver. Not even Yanagi-taichō had been so brutal when it came to training, though she hadn't put Squad 18 through training since Ibo first joined it.

 Ibo said nothing as he continued scanning the road for anyone coming close to the entrance into Akagahara. Denryoku felt sorry for his silent friend. Ibo probably was having the worst time adjusting to the new captain. Hyuuga Tokuma didn't treat Denryoku and Ibo like unique individuals the way Yanagi had, he treated them like soldiers that had no personality and he expected them to do whatever he asked. Yanagi had been Ibo's first captain, Squad 18 was the white haired Uchiha's first assignment and he had it extremely easy with the hot-tempered but understanding spitfire. Now poor Ibo was having to deal with an uptight Hyuuga who didn't take into consideration that Ibo avoided talking at all costs.

 In Denryoku's opinion, Tokuma was more uptight than Fugaku-sama. Which was saying a lot.

 Denryoku bumped his shoulder against his best friend's, “Hey, remember that time when Yanagi clobbered Shisui-san with the Spring/Summer Criminal Records Book of 37 A.K.E.?” The dark haired flirt chuckled at the memory. Oh it had been frightening at the time, because if was one of the rare instances that Shisui had actually lost his temper, but now all the Uchiha officers thought back on the incident with amusement.

 Ibo huffed a little and signed with a single hand, 'Stop trying to cheer me up.'

 The other Uchiha pretended to be offended, “Me? Cheer you up?! Why would I do such a thing?”

 This time, Ibo finally gave his quiet laugh. Denryoku could never understand how Ibo did everything so quietly. He was almost like a ghost sometimes, especially with that ashen hair of his. If Obito-san didn't already have the nickname as 'Phantom Uchiha', Denryoku was sure that Ibo would have been tagged with it. As it was, many of the officers called Ibo the 'Wraith' behind the young man's back. Even Yanagi often called Ibo 'Silent Spook' to his face, but then Yanagi had an awful habit of assigning demeaning nicknames to everyone.

 Everyone blamed Obito for his sister's rude habit.

 They also blamed him for her blackmail collection.

 And her general surliness.

 Really, it was always Obito's fault when it came to something Yanagi did.

 “Anything to report?” Tokuma asked as he suddenly popped up out of no where. Denryoku silently cursed his captain's 'pop goes the weasel' trick.

 “Nope. All clear, as it always is.” Denryoku responded, his voice a little cutting. He had been in service for eight years, and had had three captains not including the Hyuuga, but this stuck up prick treated him as if he were the newbie. Even Ibo, who was only on his fourth year and only had Yanagi as his captain, was still more of a veteran than the Hyuuga.

 Tokuma's captaincy had practically been handed to him on a silver platter. The Hyuuga was on record for having the quickest promotion in history of the Konoha MP, and that wasn't a good thing. He had been an officer for a year before Fugaku handed him a promotion in response to the accusations of Uchiha promoting only their own. Which was a load of bullshit. Code of Conduct clearly states that an officer must have at least five years before being considered for a captain promotion. Konoha MP hadn't even allowed non-Uchiha to join for four years before people started complaining about the 'lack' of non-Uchiha captains.

 And Fugaku handed the first non-Uchiha promotion to a wet-behind-the-ears Hyuuga because 'it brought the two powerhouse clans closer together'. What a load of bull.

 The captain narrowed his pearly white eyes at Denryoku. For three weeks he had tried to win over the two Uchiha, but they were dead set on comparing him to their last captain, who had quite the reputation at headquarters. Ibo hadn't been as bad as his teammate, less expressive definitely, but Tokuma could still feel cold enmity from the silent Uchiha. Now he didn't care and just treated the two stubborn men like he would anyone else who treated him with hostility.

 “Did you check the south end?” Tokuma prompted further.

 The dark haired Uchiha rolled his eyes, “Yes. And Ibo kept watch on the road. We know how to patrol, you kn-” Whatever Denryoku was about to say was cut off when a dull explosion caused the fence of Akagahara to rattle. All three police officers whirled around to stare at the plume of smoke raising from inside the fence perimeter. All traps within the restricted area were motion-sensitive and there was no wildlife stupid enough to scratch out a living in a booby-trap invested forest. That only meant that someone had somehow gotten in and were now causing a ruckus.

 Great.

  Chapter 19: A Little Tough Love

“Fifty more laps.” I grouched when Hinata finally finished the third set of the day. Naruto took off like someone had just told him that there was a free all you can eat ramen buffet in Kumo, with his Uzumaki lineage and the Kyuubi reserves the boy wasn't even sweating. Sasuke gave me the darkest glare he could muster as he stumbled into a run behind the blonde, still going at a relatively good pace, but Hinata was barely walking.

 Rolling my eyes I grabbed the hood of the Hyuuga's jacket and pulled her back. “You meditate.” I told her and tried to make Hinata sit down, but she only shook off my hold.

 “N-no… I can… do-do i-i-i-it.” She said between whooping breaths. I narrowed my eyes at her. I wasn't used to this new Hinata, this was the second time she defied me. But I wasn't going to stop her, anything was better than the stuttering mess I had started with.

 “Fine, but I'm not saving your ass when you faint.”

 Hinata took off without another word, she was only going as a shuffling jog, but she was still trying and that had to count for something I guess. I turned to my next task and glared hotly at the Honorable Grandson, who cowered in my shadow. “P-please don't kill me...” He stuttered.

 I rolled my eyes, like I would kill the Honorable Grandson of the Hokage.

 Too much of a hassle to hide from the authorities.

 “You, pest, are going to write a formal apology to the Konoha Police Patrol that found you and my team then write a report to the Hokage detailing what happened. And don't think about doing anything stupid, I'll read over everything before you hand the report to your grandfather personally.” To prove my point, I handed him two sheets of paper and a pen, “You only get one chance for each, otherwise you join my Team in their exercises for the rest of the week.”

 Konohamaru seemed confused by that, “B-but...” He started.

 “But what?”

 “Bu-but Naruto-nii-san said that you couldn't do anything if we were caught. My grandfather will hear of this! Then you'll be sorry!” Apparently this brat wanted to die.

 I leaned down until my face was inches from his own, “If you're stupid enough to believe that dumbass then you're more gullible than a sack of worms. And about as ugly and useless too. I don't give a damn if you're the Honorable Grandson, be glad I'm only making you write the apologies because I'm very tempted to kick your ass like I will my team's once they're good and warmed up. You want to be a ninja? Because I'll give you your first lesson for free if you want.”

 Konohamaru was quick to shake his head no and sit down to begin his apology and report. I gave him a pretty poor attempt at a smile, it was more of baring my teeth, “Make sure you don't get a thing wrong. Or you'll get your free shinobi lesson anyway.” I threatened. The brat paled under his tan.

 Good, about time he learned some respect.

 I was probably going to get it for traumatizing the pest, but it was worth it.

 Shithead.

 I didn't even care that they broke the rules and entered the forbidden area, if they wanted to get killed on their own time then fine. It was the fact that they did it while on a mission babysitting the Honorable Grandson. Akagahara was one of the number one places enemy shinobi tried to infiltrate, hence why it was forbidden. Any person caught in the gated area was immediately executed without question. Team 7 and Konohamaru were extremely lucky that Denryoku had recognized Konohamaru or else they would all be dead and Patrol 18 would have been brought up on charges of killing the Hyuuga heiress, the second son of the Uchiha clan head, the Kyuubi jinchūriki and the grandson of the Third Hokage.

 It was a political nightmare just to sort out fill out the paperwork on the incident. I was pissed because I had been dragged into it since I was the sensei and now was under scrutiny for 'abandoning my team' on a mission. Even though D-rank missions didn't require the presence of the sensei, since they were considered 'baby missions' no matter what the chūnin at the mission desk said. But that small little detail was conveniently forgotten when it came to the issue at hand.

 I was going to strangle that prick Hyuuga for bringing me up on charges.

 Even worse, the whole Uchiha clan had been brought into the mess as well as the Hyuuga and both were now up in arms over accusations against each other. For what, I really didn't care. All I knew was that months of work bringing the Uchiha clan back under the Konoha banner was ruined and we were almost back where we started when the genin graduated.

 And everyone was blaming me for not keep a better eye on the trio of brats. And Team 7 had been put on probation for three weeks. No missions at all; which meant Nekobaa was not pleased because only Uchiha were allowed to handle Uchiha merchandise and the idiots that had been sent in Team 7's place lost half of the shipment. That didn't really go over well with Fugaku-sama.

 I didn't mind the 'no missions' as much as everything else since I was turning that into my advantage as a way to take my ire out on them the whole team through harsh training. I was also stuck with Konohamaru, though I didn't know why. Probably so he could share in the punishment.

 Well, that's what I was taking from it.

 Once all three genin stopped in front of me, I immediately pointed to the ground, “Twenty push-ups, forty crunches, and thirty leg lunges. Go!” This time all genin groaned and literally dropped to the ground. I kicked dirt at them, “DO IT!” I roared and ignored their hisses of pain when the dirt got in their eyes.

 I did not give a shit what they felt. If they were stupid enough to think 'forbidden' didn't apply to them, then they can suffer a little grit in the face.

 Arrogant assholes.

 “Konohamaru, join them!” I shouted, turning to the startled boy. He stared at me for a good minute before I pointed at the paper, “That character is written wrong. Twenty push-ups, forty crunches and thirty leg lunges, now.”

 “What?! But-”

 “NOW! Do not ever question your superior officer. Now put your head down and start!” I snapped harshly, snatching the papers from his hands. I began walking away, crumbling the paper into a ball, when I heard a quiet sob from the boy. I whirled around, “Oh, are you going to cry? Did I upset you? If you're too much of a crybaby then maybe you should just forget about being a ninja, let alone Hokage.” I mocked with a harsh sneer. Large tears were flowing down Konohamaru's eyes now. He was truly crying like the brat he was.

 I grabbed him by his ridiculous scarf and shoved him to the ground, “Stop whining, you pathetic little rat.”

 “Hey! Leave him alone.”

 My head snapped around to glare at Naruto. Sasuke and Hinata had paused in their push-ups and were watching me, but only Naruto was standing and glaring at me. “Did I say stop? Start over–thirty push-ups, fifty crunches, and forty leg lunges.”

 Naruto's bright eyes glittered, “What do you want? Are you so cruel that you need to make little kids cry so you feel better? Why, you're nothing but a bully!”

 “A bully, huh?” I mused, pulling my fury behind the Uchiha clan's standard emotionless 'I-don't-give-a-shit' mask. “Everyone stand up.” Konohamaru jumped up quickly, rubbing an arm across his messy face, and latched onto Naruto like a leech. Sasuke and Hinata stood up more slowly, but they were giving me glares that were almost on par with Naruto's.

 I stared down at them for a long time, taking in each of the child's face. Team 7 were scowling back at me, they were used to me enough that they felt they could get away with it. Konohamaru was sobbing quietly into Naruto's side while Naruto had an arm around him like he was protecting him from me. These four were only kids; kids who broke the rules and almost got killed for it. They needed to know that some rules weren't even allowed to bend without dire consequences.

 But…

 Somewhere deep down I knew that my harsh treatment was wrong, completely and utterly wrong. I was at a loss of what to do. The only way I could make them truly understand that what they did was not okay was to push them until they broke.

 No that wasn't right.

 I was taking my anger out on them, I wasn't even trying to teach them. For all they knew they were only suffering through my harsh torture because I felt like it. Because I had finally gone off the deep end.

 “Do you know why I'm making you do all this?” I asked, more calmly now that I had time to ponder over my actions.

 Naruto, however, hadn't calmed down one bit, “Because you hate us and you get a sick joy outta watching us suffer, `ttebayo!”

 I glanced at Sasuke and Hinata to see if they agreed, the sad thing was that they did. Even quiet Hinata was turning rebellious, though after the hell I put her through I wasn't very surprised.

 “And if I did, what would you do about it?” I prompted, folding my hands behind my back and waited for them to answer. For the longest time all of them were stumped. Even Konohamaru stopped his crying to peek at Team 7. I think they expected me to defend myself and say I didn't hate them at all, but it was all for their own good.

 Or some gooey shit like that.

 I didn't let them answer, “Some shinobi are batshit insane, and they might possibly be one of the most loyal ninjas you'd find in the village. There are nuke-nin that are mild mannered; but they betrayed your village's trust, so you still are expected capture them or kill them if you can't. I thought you already realized that no one can be defined as just being good and bad.” Naruto and Sasuke winced, most likely thinking of Haku.

 Hinata was still warming up to her new found backbone, “That doesn't give you the right to push around like you do.” She stated in a calm clear voice one would expect from a Hyuuga.

 Tilting my head I studied the heiress. Two months had passed under my tutelage and already she was more outspoken than probably ever. She wasn't even stuttering at the moment.

 “No it doesn't, but again, what can you do? Go whine to your father or the Hokage? You're stuck with me, Hyuuga, like it or not.”

 “It isn't right!” That was Naruto.

 “You're right.” I think I just broke all four of their puny brains when I agreed so readily with the dumbass. I scoffed a little, “But then, when is anything we do right? I thought we discussed this, Naruto, back in Wave. It's all a matter of perspective.”

 “Since when is beating little kids a matter of perspective?!” Sasuke snapped. Inwardly I laughed at the way Team 7 was ganging up on their sensei.

 “Did I touch any of you with the intent to hurt?”

 “Don't play your stupid mind games, Yanagi, you know what I meant.”

 My eyes narrowed at the blatant sign of disrespect. Defending a child, I could understand. Standing up for oneself, sure go for it. That was always amusing. Disrespect in any form, even during an argument?

 You've got five seconds to get the hell out of dodge before I tear you a new one.

 “I'm not playing games. It's an honest question. Did I hurt any of you, physically?” I asked, struggling to keep my voice calm now. One more word out of my cousin's mouth and he would suddenly have proof that I was beating little kids like he claimed.

 “You hurt-”

 I cut Sasuke off before he could continue, “I didn't touch Konohamaru, I grabbed his scarf. Try again.” Any ninja worth their salt knew how to hurt someone without ever touching them.

 Before any of them could say another word I tossed four blank scrolls on the ground at their feet, “Training is done. I want all of you to write a full length formal apology to the Patrol that caught you in Akagahara. No copying from anyone else. Go.” I started to walk away, having my own work to fill out.

 “Why?”

 I didn't care who said it, but it stopped me in my tracks. Why? WHY?! Did they really not understand exactly what could of happened? Slowly I turned back around, my expression not angry as they clearly expected but concern, “Do any of you know why Akagahara is a forbidden area?” I asked slowly.

 Four 'no's.

 I facepalmed. I couldn't help it, in all my life I never met a group more dense than these idiots. Not even Obito could compete with one of them! “Okay sit down, you're getting another lesson.”

 They all remained standing, which was fine by me. “Akagahara is on the border of Konoha, it abuts Training Grounds 44 and 45, which are the furthest training grounds from Konoha. It's also the easier area to navigate through. Guess what that means?”

 Sasuke looked like he knew the answer, if his frequent paling was anything to go by. But of course that could be the fatigue catching up with him too. It was a 50/50 chance of being either.

 “That means that Akagahara, during the war, was the most common way for intruders to enter into Konoha's surrounding forest. Once enemies got past Akagahara it was a cakewalk to Konohagakure.” Now the rest of the team were turning white. Konohamaru still didn't get it, dammit.

 I focused my gaze on the littlest brat, “Akagahara is still the used by enemies to get into our village.” I explained slowly so his childish mind could grasp the concept.

 “So? Naruto-nii-san and his friend could take them.” Boy, talk about blind hero worship. My eyebrow twitched, this kid really wasn't getting it. I don't think any of the brats really got the grave circumstance they were in, truly.

 I sighed, “Look, because Konoha knows that Akagahara is the easiest way to get in, we put a fence up and made it forbidden, as well as stationed a permanent patrol for the police force. That patrol has orders to kill anything that moves in Akagahara.” I said flatly. There was no sense in sugar-coating it for an idiot as dense as the Hokage's grandson.

 Now Konohamaru was joining his 'friends' in utter horror. And that wasn't even the best part.

 “The reason why I'm making you write the apology to Patrol 18 is because if Uchiha Denryoku didn't recognize the Honorable Grandson, all of you would be dead. You four are some of the most politically sensitive brats in Konoha; can you imagine what Patrol 18 would be facing if they had killed you? The Hyuuga and Uchiha clans would be calling for blood, it might even boil into a clan war between the two. The Hokage wouldn't be any help as he would be biased over losing Konohamaru and Naruto. Many of the jounin, and even the Council of Elders, would be up in arms over Naruto's death as well.” For all the wrong reasons, but I wasn't about to tell an emotionally neglected child that, “Hell, in a worst case scenario the whole village would probably melt down into total chaos, which would then prompt another Hidden Village to attack and might start another Shinobi War.”

 Silence reigned down on the brats as I let the new information sink in, they were finally understanding what exactly could have happened.

 Hinata bent down and picked up one of the blank scrolls. She stared at it for a good minute before tucking it in her weapons pouch and turned to look at me, “I'll give my apology to you in the morning, Yanagi-sensei.” She said calmly before leaving. If it wasn't for that ridiculous boyish haircut, I'd say that another Hyuuga was impersonating her; but Hinata was the only Hyuuga with that styled hair so it was impossible.

 No one was desperate enough to act like Hinata to actually cut their hair like that.

 Sasuke was the next one to pick up the scroll. He glared at the innocent roll of paper then at me and walked away without saying a word.

 Naruto picked up both his and Konohamaru's, “Is that true? What you said about the jounin and stuff?” He almost sounded scared, as if I would say no just to laugh at him.

 Dammit I was hoping he wouldn't ask that, “Yes.” Let him come to his own false conclusion that they actually cared for him as a person and not the ultimate weapon of the village. I wasn't going to be the one to break his heart. I was an unpleasant woman, hell even I'd readily admit to being a bitch; but I wasn't inhuman.

 I left without another word.

 vvv

 “Thought I'd find you here.” Someone said behind me. I grunted and poured myself another helping of Awamori. If I remembered correctly the person talking was normally more cheerful and I wasn't supposed to talk to him.

 Well screw it, I talk to who I want.

 Shisui sat down beside me and pulled the bottle of Awamori towards him to read the label, “Thirty-eight percent alcohol? Wow you must be depressed this time.” I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

 “Shu'up.” I slurred angrily and tried to yank the bottle out of his grasp, but only succeeded in nearly toppling off the bar stool. If Shisui hadn't reached out with his free hand and grabbed my elbow I'd be on the floor.

 “I think you've had enough tonight. Time to go home.” He said and gently pried the alcohol dish from my fingers before setting it down. As Shisui stood, I just continued to stare at the remaining liquid in the glass. It looked so graceful, swirling slowly in the shallow dish as the light directly above reflected off of it.

 “`M a 'orrible sen'ei, ain't I?” I whispered.

 Shisui didn't immediately answer as he slowly eased me up on his back. I took his silence to be a 'yes'. I was the worst sensei on earth, that scum that Nii-san always talked about. I could blame my team and Konohamaru all I wanted, but in reality I was the only person to blame. If I was a better teacher I would have warned the kids why that place was avoided, and I sure as hell wouldn't traumatize them when I was told about it.

 Shisui tsked and readjusted his grip on my legs as he walked out of the seedy bar he had found me in. Apparently I had been thinking out loud, “You're not the best sensei out there, but I wouldn't write you off as scum yet, Yanagi-chan. And how were you to know those kids were foolish enough to go to Akagahara?” Damn man. Why was he always so cheerful and optimistic?!

 Stupid Shisui and his stupid reasoning. I pressed my cheek into the back of his shirt and pouted. Why was it stupid Shisui that found me? Why couldn't it be some other officer that I didn't know who wouldn't try to give me a stupid pep talk as he brought me home?

 “You smell.” I mumbled after a pregnant pause.

 This time Shisui laughed softly. I couldn't help but smile a little at his chuckle. That's just how it was; whenever Shisui laughed people couldn't help but smile or laugh with him. It was almost like his laughter was a spell for happiness. “You're one to talk, Yagi.” He returned.

 I pouted again, “…Di'nt say it was bad.” Shisui always smelled like freshly turned earth and crushed grass with only the faintest undertone of metal. The scent brought up memories of long past summers spent sprawling on the ground after hours of sparring together. If I closed my eyes I could almost imagine us being silly teenagers again, and Shisui was carrying me home because I was tired from a day of endless spars and not because I was intoxicated.

 But that was before the drama of the Uchiha coup, and when I opened my eyes that perfect rosy scene faded back into harsh reality. My already depressed mood sunk even lower and I almost felt like crying.

 Shisui seemed to pick up on my mood, “Is Yagi-chan complimenting me?! The world must be ending!” He said in a dramatic flair. It was a desperate attempt to take my mind off of other things. Sadly it didn't work.

 “Shaddap, Eyelashes.” I said in all seriousness, though I did appreciate that he was trying to cheer me up.

 “I haven't heard that nickname in forever. You must really be drunk.” The only other curly haired Uchiha commented.

 I didn't respond immediately. I was thinking the circumstances over and I wasn't liking the conclusion I was coming to, “How much trouble am I in?” I finally asked, resigning myself to my fate. I knew from the second I first forced Team 7 into that harsh training that there would be repercussions. Really bad ones at that.

 Shisui turned serious, only further proving that I was in deep shit. If Shisui was serious then I was definitely in trouble, otherwise he would try to reassure me that everything was alright and I was just being ridiculous.

 “Not all that good. Fugaku-sama and Hyuuga-sama are definitely not pleased, and neither is the Hokage.” Shisui relayed calmly. I simply laid my forehead against his shoulder. I saw that one coming by a mile. But oh did it get worse, “What with you having not been with your team when they were caught in Akagahara and now this… Hyuuga-sama is calling for your permanent resignation from the shinobi forces.”

 That managed to get through my foggy brain. I jerked my head back in surprise and immediately regretted it when the pounding headache cropped up in retaliation. “Wha-?! He can't do that!” I snapped, my words clear and forceful. Only the Hokage or my clan leader could force my resignation.

 Shisui hefted me up further on his back and gave me a look over his shoulder for nearly waking up the neighborhood, “That's what Fugaku-sama said and the Hokage agreed; which is why you have an appointment with Yamanaka Asao tomorrow morning at ten.”

 I groaned and dropped my head back onto Shisui's shoulder. Yamanaka Asao, or as I called him Ass-ao, was the Uchiha clan's personal therapist. Every clan had their own Yamanaka therapist who was informed of almost every clan secret to avoid having said secrets accidentally leaking out during a session.

 Our Yamanaka had a standing appointment with any Uchiha that activated their sharingan; so he could make sure that the stupid Curse of Hatred didn't crop up. Only Itachi and Shisui were exempt because of they were exceptions to every single Uchiha cliché known, the lucky bastards. Hell, even Kakashi had to visit Asao because of his borrowed sharingan.

 Asao, on top of his normal duties as a therapist, was also the clan's standard medic because Uchiha's were utterly hopeless when it came to medical ninjutsu; I was considered the best in the clan at medical ninjutsu and to any other medic I was considered utterly hopeless. Most clansmen found their own medic though.

 Because Yamanaka Ass-ao also happened to be one vindictive little shit.

 “If Asao-san diagnosis you as mentally unstable than Fugaku-sama will demote you to being a secretary in the police force and the Hokage will assign another jounin to your team.” Shisui added, almost sounding regretful. I didn't blame him, I could handle losing my team, maybe, but secretary?!

 I'd rather walk into Kumo and offer to be their Sharingan breeding cow.

 “Jus kill me now.” I grumbled into Shisui's shirt. Like I said, Asao was a vindictive asshole and he found fault in every Uchiha. When asked if the Nidaime or Ass-ao was more spiteful towards the Uchiha clan, Asao would win hand down every time. I wouldn't put it past that worm to say I was mentally ill just so there would be 'one less Uchiha on active duty'.

 Shisui gave an exasperated sigh, “Asao wouldn't do that.”

 I must have been talking out loud again. Stupid drunkenness. “Like you know. You don' `isit Asao, you don' know what he like.”

 My escort home, if you could call him that, stayed silent for a good while before asking in a resigned voice, “Want me to come with you tomorrow?” Why'd he have to sound so reluctant? I wasn't that bad, was I? Maybe to my team but I just normally ignored Shisui, wasn't like he ever minded or nothing.

 “Naw, I won' like ya to'arrow.”

 “Oh, but you like me now?”

 “…Shu'up and ge' me home.” I said, blatantly avoiding the question. Shisui was my friend tonight. Tomorrow, he would be that goofy idiot that I ignored. Shisui laughed and laughed at my response though, and that made me feel just a bit better.

 vvv

 Nii-san was pounding on the bathroom door, “Yanagi! Get your ass in gear, your appointment is in ten minutes!” Hypocrite. It was perfectly fine for him to be late five hours, but kami forbid that I be late by a second.

 “Like that ass Asao would fail me if I was a minute late.” I snapped back as I tried to pull my rebellious hair up in it's standard high ponytail. Unfortunately I had made the mistake of going to bed with it still wet from my shower last night–forced by Nii-san because he 'wasn't going to have the house reek of alcohol'–and that meant my hair was ten times as unruly than normal. Baring my teeth at my reflection in frustration I dropped my arms and let the dark brown coils fall loosely down my back. It wasn't like I was going to be doing anything today that required my hair being up. The meeting with the Yamanaka would take up most of the day and then there was nothing until the evening; Mikoto-oba had invited Obito and I to have dinner and she had strongly suggested that we be there.

 When Mikoto suggested anything, you had better do it or you'd discover the reason why she had been called the Terror of Genyo Pass in the Third War.

 Giving up on my hair I stormed out of the bathroom, past my brother, and grabbed my sunglasses. “See you tonight, and you better not be late this time. I'm not making any excuse, you can just try to explain it to our aunt yourself.” I threatened as I headed for the door. Obito followed behind me, absently reassuring me as he flopped down on the living room couch with his daily dose of porn in hand.

 Disgusting.

 Even with the sunglasses on, my eyes still watered at the brightness of the outside world. I wasn't as hungover as I thought I'd be, but it was still enough to feel the symptoms. Luckily, as a kunoichi, being hungover wasn't as bad as to what a civilian might feel. With the amount of alcohol I had consumed last night, a civilian might be in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. Instead, due to chakra boosting a ninja's metabolism to a much higher rate than average, I was only mildly hungover. It was both a blessing and a curse. Shinobi had no problem sliding back into the swing of things the next day, even if they had passed out the night before; however it took them much longer to get inebriated.

 As soon as my eyesight cleared I turned straight around and stalked back into the house, “Nii-san! What is that… thing doing out there?!” I yelled at my brother.

 Shisui poked his head in the doorway, “Thing? I'm hurt, Yagi-chan.” I glowered at him. If the door didn't swing outward I would have tried to slam it closed on his head.

 My brother chortled quite evilly, “My kohai offered to escort you. He said you expressed to being worried about Asao last night when he brought you home. Just have her at the Main House by six, Shisui-kun.”

 “Can do, senpai!” Shisui chirped, giving my treacherous older brother a two fingered salute.

 “Wha-?!” I squawked, but didn't get to finish as Shisui grabbed me by the waist and physically dragged me out of my own home. The last thing I heard was Obito yelling at me to let go of the door frame before I broke it.

 I nearly fell over, disoriented and confused at the sudden change in footing. A hand reached out to steady me but I swatted it away with a vengeance and took a step back to find my balance. I gave the very smug looking Shisui my best stink eye for that stunt he had just pulled. Stupid shunshin master, I hadn't even felt him build up chakra! That was just being too good at your favorite jutsu if you asked me.

 Shisui's smug smile turned into a pout, “I thought we were over all this, Yagi-chan.” He said and turned those damn puppy eyes of his on me. I glared back; being a master of that look myself I was immune to it. And when the hell did he get that notion anyway? I was flat out drunk last night, and drunk people do stupid things they normally wouldn't do.

 Like talking to someone whom you've sworn never to speak to again for the rest of eternity.

 Instead of answering, I turned on my heel and stormed away. I only got maybe three feet before Shisui caught up to me with his longer stride, “Oi oi oi, ya know the word 'escort' normally means that they're walking with you, right?” I simply gave him the universal one finger sign of 'go away'.

 Like always, Shisui didn't react, he only shrugged it off with a grin. There had only been three instances when I had truly pissed Shisui off. Once was when I confronted him about the reason for which I now ignore him, another was when I bashed a criminal records book over his head, and the third was only last year when I had tossed one of Nekobaa's cats at his face.

 Shisui is allergic to cats.

 Thankfully Shisui seemed to understand that we were back to Square One in which I ignored him no matter what he said or did. For several minutes we walked causally in blissful silence. Well, I stalked down the streets, with a look on my face that made bystanders scramble to get out of my way; and he just strolled in the wake I left.

 “I like your hair down like that.”

 Damn it.

 vvv 3rd Person~ Sasuke vvv

 “Hey where's Frizzy-sensei?” Naruto asked, sitting up from where he had been lounging on the ground.

 Sasuke gave his dumbest teammate a look, “She hasn't arrived yet.” Mentally the Uchiha hoped she never arrived. Hopefully the meeting that Tou-san had gone to late last night was so that Yanagi was removed from being their sensei.

 “But, it's been four hours since she told us to meet here, and Sensei is never late.” Naruto knew that for a fact. He had once staked out their training grounds for the night, determined to beat Yanagi at the internal, unspoken 'get there before Sensei does' game Team 7 seemed to have. Somehow she must have realized what he was doing, because she had stayed there that night just so Naruto couldn't show her up.

 Stupid Yanagi-sensei and her overzealous competitiveness.

 “So what?”

 “So… don't you think it's weird that the Time Machine Jounin is late?” Sasuke honestly didn't know how Naruto came up with the variety of nicknames he had for their sensei. And Sasuke definitely didn't want to know about the nicknames the dobe had for him.

 “She probably got demoted and taken off the team. Tou-san had a late night meeting with the Hokage after I told him what happened yesterday.”

 “T-t-that's right… M-m-my O-Otou-sama did the s-s-same.” Hinata added. Both males glanced at their stuttering teammate, each with their own levels of concern. Ever since the Wave mission they had noticed that Hinata's stutter had decreased, almost to the point that she didn't stutter at all unless talking to Naruto– though only Sasuke noticed that part. After yesterday's torture lesson, Hinata likely had regressed back into her old habits.

 Naruto turned back to the matter at hand, “Yeah, and where is Konohamaru anyway? He's supposed to be with us.” The blonde's blue eyes widened in fear and he leaned in, “You don't think… she killed him, do you?”

 Sasuke sighed in exasperation and hung his head. If Naruto kept his stupid rumor mongering, every child in Konoha would think his cousin was some kind of monster that hid under the bed and ate little kids for dessert. Konohamaru's classmates already thought that Yanagi was some kind of vampire; Sasuke had heard his younger relatives talking about how to 'excise' her.

 Before Sasuke could find the patience to answer his lummox of a teammate, someone else did. “While I wouldn't put it past her, Yanagi-chan has more finesse than that. You'd never be able to pin it on her, at the very least.”

 All of Team 7 looked high up in Yanagi's favorite tree, past her normal branch, where a grey haired masked man lounged, his nose in a small orange book that both Sasuke and Hinata recognized and dreaded immensely. Sasuke recognized him as one of Obito's teammates.

 “Eh?! Who are you?!” Naruto shouted and rudely pointed up at the older man.

 The stranger turned to look at the three genin and his only visible eye tilted in an odd way so that it gave the impression that he was smiling, “I'm your sensei for the day, while Yanagi is out… sick.”

 “Well you're late! Frizzy-sensei said never to be late!”

 “Maa… a black cat crossed my path so I had to take the long way around.”

 vvv Normal POV vvv

 Asao hummed as he pretended to scribbled some shitty notes down. I had a suspicion that he was just doodling. He didn't stop 'writing' even when I had stopped talking for several minutes. I already knew that the little worm wasn't listening to me. For almost ten minutes I had called him every insult under the moon and he didn't so much as twitch.

 Being a relatively regular patient of his, I knew that Asao was not that thick-skinned.

 “And how would you say that makes you feel?” He questioned in that stupid condescending 'I'm the doctor here and you're the nutty patient' voice he always used. Even when he wasn't on duty. I had the misfortune of running into the asshole when I was taking a message to Yamanaka Inoichi, that was just his default tone.

 It was so nauseating I wanted to throw up.

 “Like I wanna strangle something.” I said dryly and looked out the ridiculously small window, which also happened to be barred. Nothing like having to talk about your repressed feelings in a room that felt like it was a refurbished prison cell.

 And honestly, they could have just left the cell like it was, since the 'redesign' sucked.

 Ass-ao's sandy head whipped up from his notepad and he pinned me with a look, “Are you feeling violent now, Uchiha-san?”

 Oh please, that he heard?! Now I was sure he was just waiting for me to say some shit like that so he could write me off as mentally unstable.

 Like I said: vindictive asshole.

 “No. I'm feeling oddly calm, like I've just had a spiritual purge of all the negative energy within my system. Please, O Great Guru of the Mystic Beings, continue your instructions so that I may become one with the universe like you.” Finally I got a twitch from the pompous bastard.

 “Sarcasm doesn't become you.”

 “Oi! I'm the queen of sarcasm, don't insult me!”

 “I thought you were the Blackmail Queen.”

 “Well a queen can have two titles, dipshit.”

 “Do you see yourself as a queen? Do you have feelings of superiority over others?”

 I threw my head back with a great groan. Trust a Yamanaka to turn a simple sentence into some insight on a damn nonexistent mental disorder. I'd hate to be a Yamanaka, it would get very old very quickly if I felt the need to psychoanalysis every word said to me.

 “I'm a damn Uchiha, of course I have a superiority complex; because it sure as hell isn't an inferiority complex.” I snapped back. It seemed that every Uchiha suffered through one of the two mental states to some degree. They either felt like they were a gift from Kami or that they were worthless trash that no one cared about. Unless you were balanced people like Itachi and Shisui.

 “Do you feel superior to me?”

 “Do you really want me to answer that question?”

 There was a moment of silence then: “…No. Let's move on.”

 Thought so, jackass.

 vvv 3rd Person vvv

 “Man, this new sensei sucks! He just gave us some stupid missions and followed us around all day reading! He didn't even try to teach us anything!” Naruto complained as Team 7 left the Missions Desk Office at the end of their day.

 “You'd rather run around a training field all day with our psychotic old sensei trying to emotionally break us every second?” Sasuke asked sarcastically. He didn't like the new sensei either, Kakashi he had learned, but he was still loads better than Yanagi-sensei.

 Naruto squinted at the mention of yesterday, “Well, no. But Frizzy-sensei normally isn't so… uh… evil. She's kinda funny when she's not yelling at us.”

 Behind the two boys Hinata nodded, though neither saw it.

 “When isn't she yelling at us?”

 “When she's yelling at someone else,” Naruto returned quickly. He paused for a moment then added in a mischievous tone, “her nicknames are really funny actually… Duckass.”

 Sasuke shot his stupid teammate a dark look, “Her nicknames are not amusing at all, they're insulting.” He stated firmly.

 “Oh come on! Don't tell me you weren't a little amused by 'Peach-boy'! Calling someone as strong as Zabuza that is just hilarious.”

 “I'm surprised you even know that word.”

 “Oi!”

 “G-g-guys, let's not f-f-f-fight.” Hinata interjected before either boy could warm up to the argument that was starting. When the team was first formed, Yanagi-sensei had given the job of maintaining order to Hinata; and she was just finally starting to be confident enough to try and mediate between Naruto and Sasuke's fights.

 Both boys glanced back at their shy teammate and then at each other. Though neither would admit it, they were both in agreement that they had to watch out for Hinata since she was so shy and fragile. She didn't know it, but she could probably order them to do almost anything and they would do it without complaining because it was Hinata. They felt the need to protect her from everything; from chaotic cats to their insane sensei.

 “Training?” Naruto prompted, changing the subject. Yanagi-sensei had beat into them pretty early on that they had better train sometimes in their downtime, or training with her would be utter hell.

 And they had already gotten a taste of Utter Hell; there was no reason to try and seek it out.

 Sasuke shook his head, “Kaa-chan wants me home before dinner. Something about someone having dinner with the family.” He explained. In reality he'd rather train with Naruto. They had actually been a decent team on the Wave bridge and he wanted to see if they could hone their skill.

 Hinata hesitated, not liking being put on the spot. She would love to train with Naruto, but she was concerned that she might faint if it were just Naruto and herself. “I-I can… but only for a h-hour, N-Naruto-kun.” She finally decided. She didn't think she would be any help, but Naruto seemed to think otherwise.

 He brightened, “Great! You can help me with that silent technique Frizzy-sensei taught you! Come on!” And with that Naruto grabbed the bright red Hinata and practically dragged her away. Sasuke watched amused and feeling only slight pity for Hinata. His female teammate was in no condition prepared to deal with the hyperactivity that Naruto consistently exuded; but if she was determined to keep that crush of hers, she might as well learn how to deal with it.

 vvv Normal POV vvv

 “Well look at the bright side, Yagi-chan…” Shisui tried to cheer me up as we walked back to the Uchiha Compound, “Asao-san didn't say you were mentally unstable.”

 I crossed my arms with a scowl. Ass-ao might have cleared me of being batshit insane, but he did diagnose me as emotionally repressed, with a superior complex in general, anger management issues, and a plethora of tragic memories that possibly lead to all of said conditions. I was suspended for three weeks to see professionals to take care of my issues; and if I failed to show to the people that Asao recommended I'd be suspended indefinitely until I did see them.

 Although the anger management issue came from when I threw a chair at the bastard's face for bringing up Obito's temporary KIA status during the Third War.

 Really, he was asking for that one though.

 “Ah well. Here we are, Yagi-chan, I delivered you safely to the Main House!” What do you want, a medal? “I had fun today, Yagi-chan. We should do this more often… though it's better when your drunk.” Shisui added teasingly. I tried to punch him, I really did, but he seemed to know exactly what I was going to do for he utilized the shunshin jutsu to get away and my fist went through the air where his gut had been.

 Piss ant.

 I glared at the spot where Shisui had been standing, as if it had somehow betrayed me by not holding the man there for a second longer, before stalking inside. I never bothered knocking since the only one who really cared was Fugaku and I didn't give a shit what he thought anyway.

 “Mikoto-oba, I'm here!” I called as I sat down to take off my sandals.

 Instead of my aunt answering there was the pounding of someone running towards the entrance than Sasuke shouted, “What are you doing here?”

 I turned to give my student and youngest cousin a flat look. But before I could give a snappy comeback his mother came to greet me, “Oh good! Obito-kun is already here, now we can eat. Come, Yanagi, I made Nikujaga just for you.”

 Okay I had my suspicions before, but now I was certain that this whole thing was a set up. My aunt never made Nikujaga because Sasuke hated sweet foods. The only time she did make it was when the family was at odds and she had been forced to play the mediator; most often between her husband and Obito or I.

 No wonder Shisui didn't try to mooch a meal off of Mikoto like he normally did. He knew what was going on, the traitor.

 vvv

 Silence reigned supreme over the whole meal. The only people who weren't giving me dirty looks throughout dinner was Mikoto-oba and Obito, though Nii-san looked like he was constantly on the verge of laughing. At least Mikoto-oba had the decency not to bring drama to the table.

 Unlike a few people I knew of.

 I was the last one to finish, mostly because I was stalling for time, and as soon as I laid down my chopsticks Fugaku-sama was standing, “Yanagi, come with me.” He ordered.

 I exhaled a long sigh and looked at my brother sitting across from me. Obito had his silly grin on and was cheerfully waving good-bye when I looked at him. Then he stood and gathered his and Sasuke's dishes, “Mikoto-oba, let me help you.” Oh so he'd help Mikoto do the dishes, but left me to do all the chores at home. Jackass.

 “Yanagi.” Fugaku snapped when I was taking too long.

 “Alright alright! Don't have a cow, I'm coming.” I said defensively as I stood up and stalked after my uncle to the common meeting room.

 The common meeting room opened to the outside and was closer to the living quarters of the Main House, thus making it easier to spy on. It was where most public discussions took place, or official reprimands. The private meeting room, located under the Naka shrine, was only used for serious issues; like excommunications from the clan, planning coup d'états, and–in the past when Konoha was first founded–executions.

 I wasn't really surprised to find four of the eight clan Elders all sitting in a semi-circle. Fugaku waited until I was inside the room before shutting the door with an audible snap and taking his place at the apex of the arc. I barely refrained from rolling my eyes as I bowed to the Elders and knelt down on the uncomfortable tatami mats. No soft pillow for me, the jerks.

 “Your condition?” The furthermost Elder sitting to the right questioned. If I remember correctly, her name was Sayako and she was not only the oldest Uchiha, but one of the oldest individuals in the village. She also happened to have a soft spot for my brother, as did most of the elderly.

 I leaned over in a bow, placing my hands flat against the ground and lowered my head until my forehead brushed the tatami mat, “Honorable Elders, Clan leader… I reported to Yamanaka Asao as ordered. He has deemed me to be mentally sound, however…” At that everyone tensed. “I am to report for professional help for the next three weeks on account of anger issues and repressed emotions.”

 I think I heard one of the more crotchety old coots mutter something about not being all that surprised, but I couldn't tell.

 Fugaku gestured for me to continue. I sat up and placed my palms flat against my thighs, “I have been cleared to resume normal duty as soon as my three weeks of suspension are up.”

 My uncle dipped his head and turned to the Elders, “Then the issue is solved.” He said in that flat tone he used when addressing the Elders. Fugaku and I didn't get along at all. We disagreed on almost everything; but one of the sparingly few times we did agree on something was that the Elders were just a bunch of bored busybodies who had nothing better to do than to bother the clan leader about trivial things.

 Hibiki, a particularly nasty Elder, sputtered, “Just like that?! This gaki has nearly mentally traumatized one of our most promising genin of this generation and she gets away with a slap on the wrist?!” Funny how he made it clear that he didn't care for Sasuke as a person, just a tool to better the Uchiha clan.

 “It was by the order of the Hokage that Uchiha Yanagi be able to continue as a sensei if she were to pass the mental examination.” Fugaku said. There was a rustling of unease that clearly stated exactly what the Elders thought of their Hokage. I breathed deeply through my nose and made sure not to stiffen up. Unrest among the Elders meant that it would soon leak out into the rest of the clan, which could possibly lead to another coup.

 Sayako grumbled as she climbed to her feet, leaning heavily on her walking cane. The Elder beside her and Fugaku both jolted as if to assist her, but the spry old woman was already on her feet. “The issue is closed, as Fugaku-sama said. Complaining about it won't change a thing. I'm going to bed!” And with that the old woman hobbled past me and out the door.

 We could all still hear her go from an ornery badger to a cooing grandmotherly figure. Most likely that meant that Obito was out there eavesdropping; in fact I would bet that everyone except Itachi, who would have found a much better hiding spot, was just standing outside the sliding doors.

 Leave it to my brother to turn the woman said to have intimidated all Hokage from the Shodaime to the Yondaime to turn into a mushy old granny.

[yehet-me-up]

Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

Pairing: Donghae x reader

Genre: fluff, office!AU, based on The Hating Game 

Rating: PG13 because I can’t help but swear 😂 Kissing, but nothing explicit

Word Count: 2,478

Summary: The company carnival was your idea. The kissing booth was all his. What happened that night is definitely both of your faults.

Request: donghae from super junior with either 11, fluff! (almost nobody writes for them, youre a godsend) I hope you like it, love!!! <3

The energy is palpable as the employees file through the gates into the field. You can’t help but smile and feel proud. 

When Mr. Turner entrusted the annual company party to you, it felt like a test. A big test. Pull this off and the promotion was practically guaranteed was the unspoken message. 

Too bad you had to work with the biggest flirt in the entire office and your perpetual rival - Lee Donghae.

‘Watch out, nerd.’ A man shoulders past you unnecessarily. 

The gate is at least four people wide, but Donghae never misses an opportunity to ruffle your feathers. You make an angry noise, not unlike the sound your cat makes when he watches the neighbors dog eat from his bowl.

‘Oh. I’m so sorry. Did you not see me, old man? Misplaced your glasses?’ You can’t deny taunting him back is one of your favorite hobbies, and the fact that he’s six months older than you brings you enormous joy. ‘Do you need me to call the nursing home to come and get you?’

He turns to face you full on and you bite your lip to contain your groan. Of course he looks good. He always looks good. But tonight he looks extra delicious in black jeans and a light blue button down. He even rolled the sleeves up in the early May heat. Bastard. 

His hair is brushed casually off his forehead and he watches you with amusement in his dark eyes. ‘Only if they pick you up at the same time,’ he volleys back. ‘I care about the environment, you know.’

You snort and throw your hands up, walking towards the carousel and leaving him in the dust. He might think this promotion is his, but he has no idea. Over my dead body.

He follows you, slinging a casual arm across your shoulders. ‘I think we did a fantastic job, nerd. Thanks for the assist, I can’t wait for Mr. Turner to see this.’

Shrugging his arm off you face him and narrow your eyes. ‘I should be thanking you for the assist. This was my idea.’

He gives you a lopsided smile of victory and runs a hand through his annoyingly luscious hair. You want to smack him in the chest. Or yell at him. Or push him to the ground and kiss him so hard he can’t breathe. Any of those will do.

‘Whatever,’ you spit at him, looking at your clipboard to distract yourself from your raging anger and lust. ‘Just stay out of my way tonight. Everything needs to go perfectly.’

He pulls a length of thick red fabric from his pocket and waves it tauntingly in your face. ‘Don’t worry darlin’, I’ll be occupied and out of your way all evening. I’ve got a job to do. Unless you want to trade.’

You swallow harshly. Somehow in the chaos of the rides being delivered and the vendors asking millions of questions this afternoon you’d forgotten that he volunteered to run a kissing booth to raise donations for the Employee Support Program.

Half of you loved how thoughtful it was and wanted to sing at getting to see the heart of gold you know is buried in there, somewhere, under layers of sarcasm and arrogance. 

Half of you wanted to break something at the idea of him kissing Amanda from accounting and Zora from marketing and every woman, and probably man, in the company in-between.

‘Well. I hope you brought some mints,’ you say in a strained voice. ‘Wouldn’t want to subject anyone to your terrible breath.’

‘Hey, you okay?’ He frowns, reaching a hand for your shoulder that you easily dodge. He’s already touched you twice tonight and you feel like you’ll explode if he does it a third.

You cough and clear your throat. ‘Fine. Just have a packed schedule. Have fun making out with Kevin Williams in accounts payable.’

When you push past him this time, he doesn’t follow, just sighs in defeat. You’ve won this round, but at what cost?

The night goes smoothly. Spectacularly, even. Everyone’s kids seem to love the magic show and the row of old-school carnival games. Miraculously Jacob Donaldson avoids throwing up on the ferris wheel. The specialty popcorn and hot dog stations are a hit.

‘This is so fun! You did amazing.’ 

You turn and see Michelle beaming and carrying an enormous cotton candy.

‘Aw, thanks. I’m so glad, I’ve been a worried mess about it.’ You sigh and re-check your list.

‘Stop worrying and enjoy yourself!’ She slides an arm around your waist and gives you a half hug. ‘Has Mr. T raved to you yet? He was just telling me at the bottle toss that this is the best company party he’s been to in twenty five years.’

‘No way,’ you gasp.

‘Yes way,’ she teases and gives you a squeeze at your waist. ‘That promotion is yours babe. You got this.’

For the first time all night you let your shoulders relax and you take a deep breath. ‘I know Donghae’s going to try to take all the credit though.’

She snorts. ‘I think that man has his hands full right now.’ She motions past you to the kissing booth.

The line snakes all the way from the booth to the popcorn vendor three spots down. ‘Oh my god.’

‘I know, right? I don’t think I’ve ever seen Beth happier. She’s had a crush on him for ages.’ She says, raising her brow at you in a knowing way.

‘I do not have any feelings for Lee Donghae,’ you protest. ‘Other than seething hatred of course.’

‘Mhmm keep telling yourself that,’ she says, taking a big bite of her cotton candy.

‘Ugh. What an infuriating man.’

‘You really should do something about that.’

‘No. It will all be over soon, regardless. Either I get that job and he’ll be my employee. Or he’ll get it and I’ll fling myself directly into the center of the sun. Problem solved.’

‘Yep, you’ve clearly got it under control.’ She barks out a laugh and walks backward with a taunting raise of her brows. ‘Don’t have too much fun.’

You groan and lightly smack the clipboard to your forehead. ‘Fantastic.’

‘And let’s give a huge round of applause for the people who put this event together tonight!’ Mr. Turner claps his hand awkwardly to the one holding out the microphone while the rest of the employees join in.

The lights facing the stage are bright in your eyes and you can feel the heat coming off the man next to you. Donghae looks over at you with a wide, victorious smile. Lipstick is smeared in the corners of his mouth and you’re torn between laughing and crying.

He winks at you and steps up to take the microphone. ‘Thank you Mr. T. We couldn’t have put on this event without such excellent leadership.’

‘Kiss ass,’ you hiss under your breath.

‘My wonderful colleague and I are so thankful to you all for coming out. As you know we’ve been working hard to make this event special. I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it. Don’t forget to come and give me a kiss!’

He hands the microphone back to Mr. Turner and swaggers back to your side amidst thunderous applause, particularly from the women in the audience. You want to scream. 

For long seconds the two of you stare down each other while the crowd breaks up. Michelle calls it the Running of the Bulls whenever you’re together. All these years later and you’ve never asked her which one of you is the bull and which is the runner. It probably depends on the day.

You huff and storm off the stage. When you turn and look back at him he’s waving the red blindfold in your direction. Well, at least tonight you know you’re the bull.

The line at the damned kissing booth finally dwindles down as the night wraps up. You said goodbye to Mr. Turner and his wife chatted happily with you for ages about how much fun their family had, so you hope he remembers that when the promotion is decided.

Most of the food vendors are closing down and you realize you haven’t eaten all night. ‘I should go and eat a garlic chili dog and go make out with that jerk,’ you say to yourself with a laugh.

Maureen Jones is currently kissing the object of your woe slash secret desire. Her hands clutch his defined biceps and you can see he’s doing absolutely far more than necessary.

‘Better yet, I’ll teach him a lesson. With my tongue.’

You set the clipboard on a table and march over to the short line, heat and a desire for revenge swimming in your veins. He kisses another three women and two men before you’re finally at the front of the line. And the last of the line, you think, looking behind you at the stragglers leaving the fairgrounds.

‘Well, don’t keep me waiting all night,’ he says in a low voice. ‘I know you’re there.’

The blindfold appears thick as you step close. At least you hope it is. God only knows how much he’d delight in the fact that you caved and finally kissed him first. 

What if he’s genuinely just been messing with you all these years? 

What if everyone is wrong and he actually does dislike you? 

Oh, no. Bad idea.

Before you can step away he reaches for you blindly, his hands finding your waist and one of your elbows, pulling you closer. With him sitting on the stool you’re finally the same height. His lips are even fuller up close than you thought, or perhaps it’s just the sheer amount of work they’ve put in tonight.

He pulls you to him and lifts a hand to find your chin, guiding your face to his. The kiss is brief, far quicker than you thought it would be. A firm warm pressure and then it’s over.

You lift your hand to your lip. You should let him know the night is over. You should say something, anything. A cutting remark. A sarcastic apology. A joke about his kissing skills. 

But if he knows it’s you standing there... Oh lord what have I done?

After a beat he interrupts your thoughts by lifting his other hand and holding your face. It’s so quiet in the corner of the carnival that you can hear his breath and yours as he strokes your cheeks with his thumbs. 

With a soft hum he stands and seals his lips to yours once more. In surprise you fist your hands in his shirt. All you can do is cling to him as your world shifts off-center. 

He works his mouth against yours and your knees go weak. You were right, fortunately or unfortunately for your incessant fantasies of him, his lips are perfect - full and soft and achingly right against yours.

You try to speak, to give voice to the confusion and delight coursing through you, but the only thing you can focus on is the way he feels and tastes as he claims you. 

Slowly your grip loosens and you run your hands up his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. You wind your hands through his hair and want to moan - it’s just as thick as you always thought it would be.

His hands caress your neck, slowly undoing you as they trail down your back to hold your waist firmly. Thank goodness there’s hardly anyone around to see the way you press yourself against him, moulding your curves against his hardness.

This is wrong. I shouldn’t do this. We shouldn’t do this. He gently bites your lower lip and you feel your eyes roll back in your head. Oh fuck it.

Rational thought slaps you upside the head and you remember who you’re kissing. You back up several paces, breaking the kiss. 

He slowly takes off the blindfold, blinking in the lights from the nearby rides, watching you carefully. He doesn’t look surprised at all to see you standing there, in fact, he looks like he was expecting you.

‘What on earth was that?’ you ask, breathless. It helps that he looks just as undone.

He gives you a lopsided smirk. ‘I kissed you, nerd. Finally.’

You fold your arms and fix him with your most intense stare. ‘What do you mean finally? How did you even know it was me?’

He laughs, looking up at the sky dotted by stars. ‘Darlin’ I’ve been smelling that perfume of yours for so many years I would recognize it anywhere. I think I even smell it in my dreams.’

‘Oh.’

You reach for any of the familiar feelings that normally rise in you around him - anger, hostility, sarcasm, joking, lust. But all you find is softness. The absence of dislike is so shocking you feel like you’re floating in air.

‘Oh? That’s all you’ve got? I can’t believe I rendered you speechless,’ he says with a grin. ‘It’s a day for the record books.’

That does it. ‘I’ll show you speechless.’

In two steps you’re against him and in one breath you pull his lips to yours by tugging on his ears. You can taste his surprise and savor it, kissing him with all the passion and heat and desire you’ve kept hidden just beneath the surface for years.

You feel him smile into the kiss and you make a noise of excitement and pleasure against him. He hums in response and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around.

Pulling back, you grin down at him. ‘Wait. You don’t even like me,’ you protest, pushing his hair off his face so you can see his eyes clearly. ‘In fact, I’m pretty sure you hate me.’

He laughs, the bright and rich sound wrapping around you. ‘I feel a great many things for you, darlin’. But none of them is hate. Why do you think I suggested a kissing booth?’

You frown at him in confusion. ‘So you could make out with half the staff and live up to your playboy reputation?’

He presses a quick kiss to your chin. ‘So I could finally kiss you, duh. About time we figure out what this is between us, don’t you think?’

If he was joking or being a dick you would have easily told him to screw off. But the sincerity in his face holds no teasing for once. 

‘Yes, I think you’re right.’ He opens his mouth and you cover it with yours, giving him a hard kiss. ‘But if you make any sort of joke about me admitting you’re right-’

He cuts you off with another kiss and you laugh against him. Oh, screw it.

[spiiderfics]

Hey so I have a dialogue prompt I would like for a Noir x Spider!Reader oneshot: “Hey, you got something on your face.” *kisses* “Oh, it was just my lips.” If you could write this that would be great! I love your writing!

Trial and Error {Spider-Man Noir x Spider!reader}

A/N: This is a long one shot lol sorry,I couldn't help myself..but I put a little twist to it and trust me it works out great! Hope you like it!

Word count:1,702

Warnings: None 

*******

You and Noir both had feelings for each other, and the rest of the spider crew knew it.

Even the both of you, but neither of you knew what to do about it.

Then it finally hit you.

You had to step up, if he wasn’t.

It had to be a surprise.

“We can help!” Peni offered.

“Help with what?” You asked turning to her.

“You were talking outloud the entire time.” Ham tilted his head.

“Damn it.” You clenched your fists.

“And we have to be family friendlier, so everytime you want to say that just say ‘Dongle’.” Peter B put his thumbs up.

“Dongle?” You asked not sure if you heard correctly.

“Yes. Just do it, don’t ask questions.” Gwen said wanting to move on.

“Okay, what do you guys have in mind?” You asked switching the subject.

“Oh! I know something!” Miles raised his hand.

******

“Miles, are you sure this is going to work?” You asked wearing the uncomfortable dress you bought in a nearby clothing store.

“My mom and her friends watch this show, they always talk about how romantic it is. So it’s foolproof!” Miles smiled.

“I don’t know...Isn’t this too much?” You asked gesturing to the lights hung and the rose petals on the ground.

“Trust me.” Miles nodded.

You sighed and agreed.

“He’s coming!” Peni cheered.

“Everyone! Get into positions go!” Miles shooed everyone away.

You stood up straight and prepared for what you were going to say.

Then there he was, Noir.

He stopped when he saw you in a dress and not your suit or regular clothes.

“What’s this?” Noir asked cautiously stepping closer to you.

You cleared your throat, “Noir, will you uh, accept this rose?”

You shakily held the red rose in front of you.

Noir didn’t say anything he just stood there.

“TAKE THE ROSE DONGLE !” You heard Peni’s voice.

Then multiple shushes.

Noir looked at you up and down, “Uh sure.”

Noir hesitantly took the rose then examined it.

“Roses are red?” Noir asked.

“Uh huh, and violets are blue!” You smiled finishing the cheesy saying.

“Really? Where’s the nearest flower shop! I gotta see that!” Noir said amused.

You bit your lip then leaned in, closing your eyes ready to give him a kiss.

After a few seconds, he didn’t kiss you.

You peeked and Noir was gone.

“Well damn it.” You stomped.

“Dongle!” Peter corrected you.

“Whatever.” You waved him off.

“Okay, this idea wasn’t the best. It didn’t make any sense, so I have an idea that could possibly work better.” Gwen stepped in.

You gave in,“What do you have in mind?”

******

“Guys love music, well who doesn’t?” Gwen twirled the drumsticks between her fingers.

“When he hears how great you are on guitar, he’s gonna be head over heels.” Gwen pretended to swoon.

“Violets are really cool, and there are other flowers that look really-” Noir was talking to Peni and stopped when he saw you, Gwen,Miles,Ham, and Peter B set up like a band.

“You guys are in a band?” Noir asked.

“Uh yeah!” You said nervously.

“Since when?”

“Today.” You all said in unison.

“Oh. Well, I’m looking forward to hearing you guys play.”

“Well! You’re in luck, because we’re going to play. Right now. For you.” You awkwardly pointed at him.

“Y/N, Stop it.” Gwen tried to get you from embarrassing yourself anymore.

“And we’re going to play. For you. Right now.” You kept going.

“Okay…” Noir trailed off.

You pinched yourself to shut up and Gwen started drumming.

The song you guys were playing had no lyrics, it was just music.

It was pretty bad, the only thing that was good was your decent guitar playing and Gwen’s drumming.

You caught a glimpse of Noir and he was covering his ears, the music must've been really loud, especially since he was sitting right next to an amp.

I tried to play a little lower but it didn’t work, it only played louder and a screeching sound went through the amp and right into Noir.

“Ah!” He screamed in pain covering his ears and eventually fell backwards.

We all stopped playing and went to check on Noir.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asked.

“Rule 1, never sit in front of an amp or speaker.” Gwen said to Noir.

“What?” Noir sat up and asked very loudly.

“Can you hear us?” You put your hand on his shoulder.

“What was that?” Noir asked loudly again.

“Oh no, did we make him go deaf?” I asked in fear.

“No, no. His ears are probably ringing. It’ll go away in a few minutes.” Gwen assured.

“Oh, okay.” You sighed a breath of relief.

“Hopefully.” Gwen added.

“What?!” You turned back to her.

“Now you sound like him.” Ham jokes.

“Damn it.”

“Dongle.”

“Shut up.”

***********

“In my dimension, the way one confesses their love for each other is by telling them through technology.” Peni points to an electric billboard where it says ‘Will you marry me?’

“That’s...something.” You weren’t sure what to say.

“I already made something to show him, this one should work unlike those other failed plans.” Peni shaded Miles and Gwen.

“Oh, haha.” Gwen crosses her arms.

“It would’ve worked if he didn’t want to see other flowers!” Miles crossed his arms too.

“How does this look?” Peni presented where it has a picture of you and Noir in a heart and under that it says ‘I love you, Noir.’

You smiled, “This could actually work.”

“I know it can.” Peni nods.

“There he is!” Peter B points at Noir leaving a hot dog cart.

“Noir! Look!” You pointed at the billboard.

He looked at where you were pointing and the billboard went black, all of your spidey senses went off and you looked around for the danger, then a light burst causing the lightbulb to fly out and hit Noir on the head, knocking him to the ground.

“How is that even possible?” You asked in shock and irritated.

“Wow, the universe does not want you two to be together.” Peni shook her head.

“Should we take him to a hospital?” Miles asked pointing at Noir.

“Maybe Aunt May has some kind of first aid, there’s no bleeding.” Peter B said examining Noir.

“Damn it.” You helped carry Noir, throwing one of his arms over your shoulder.

“Dongle.”

You groaned, “This sucks.”

******

“Nothing makes people feel better than my famous chili!” Ham closes his eyes and rubs his belly.

“You know what they say Y/N, ‘A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’” Ham stirs the chili in the pot.

“Well I give up on trying to do anything about it, maybe it’s just not meant to be.” You shrugged.

“Those kids don’t know how to confess their love to someone! They haven't even graduated high school yet. Take advice from me.”

Ham put some chili in a bowl and handed it to you.

“Just give the man the bowl of chili dongle.” Ham said getting annoyed.

“Alright.” You took the bowl and walked out of the kitchen.

There he was, Noir.

He’s been through too much today because of you.

This ends now.

But no,you tripped on the rug sending hot chili onto Noir’s lap.

“Oh no.” You looked up.

Noir was tense his face was clenched, “Hot.” was all he could get out.

“Oh, I should’ve said the chili was-”

“Hot!” Noir cut Ham off.

“I’m so sorry!” You tried to help but he waved you off.

“Go upstairs and clean yourself up.” Aunt May helped Noir from the couch.

When Noir was out of sight and upstairs, you had a breakdown.

“Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” You started banging your fists on the wall.

“Don-”

“Don’t say it! Shut up! I never should have agreed to this! I should've left it alone!” You wanted to cry, but not in front of them.

Before your tears fell you ran out the front door to the bottom of the stairs.

You didn’t cry you just let a few tears fall.

You tensed up when your spidey sense was set off.

You turned around and swiftly knocked the person to the ground.

“Hey! Calm down! It’s me!” Peter B held his hands up in defense.

“If you’re here to tell me to come back inside, I’m not going to do that.” You said helping him up.

“No I’m not, but I am asking you to try again.” Peter sat next to you.“What? Are you crazy? No. I’m not doing that, I don’t want him to get hurt.” You hugged yourself.

Peter knew what you meant, with all the stunts you did today, Noir got hurt in most of them.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, it was just by coincidence. You hoped.

“You think I only tried once with MJ?” Peter asked playfully nudging you.

“No but-”

“You’ve been trying to do things everyone else's way but what about your way?” Peter asked not wanting to hear your excuse.

You looked down in sadness.

“Just try, okay? And if it doesn’t work then at least you know you tried. 5th times a charm right?” Peter laughed lightly.

“Alright. I’ll try.” You agreed not wanting to give up just yet.

******

“Hey Noir!” You shouted from above.

Noir looked around for your voice then before he could look up you slid down from your web, hanging upside down.

“Y/N?” Noir was confused on why you were upside down.

You quickly looked at Peter who gave you a confirming nod, you nodded back.

“You have something on your face.” You smiled, butterflies in your stomach.

“Really? What? Where?” Noir started feeling for anything on his face then you swung forward a little and kissed him.

“Oh, it was just my lips.” You couldn’t hide smile now.

It finally worked, you did things your way with the help of Peter and you couldn’t be happier.

“You don’t know how long I waited for that.” Noir holds your face.

“Same here.” You kissed him again.

Then out of nowhere your web rips causing you to hit the ground.

“Ow.” You winced.

“Are you alright?” Noir asked.

“Dongle.”

[kiddoryder]

Bond for Trouble

For @jeremenchi and I wanna thank @anitoonzforever for helping me. Hope you enjoy!

Right after the party and fighting stopped, Benson ordered chad & Jeremy to come back while Mordecai and Rigby stayed behind. Right now they were in Benson’s office and let’s just say he wasn’t happy. 

 Benson - *angry* “You guys are in so much trouble! Do you have any idea how much damage you cost the park?!”

 Rigby - *defensive* “Hey! We only did it to protect our jobs.”

 Mordecai - “Yeah Benson. You basically wanted to fire us without telling us.”

 Benson - “Well if you guys didn't slack off so much, I wouldn't have to do this!!”

 Rigby - “We were gonna clean it up!”

 Chad: *scoffs* “Yeah right! You can't even clean the boats without messing things up!!”

 Rigby - “Stay out of this, you tool!”

 Mordecai - *mad* “Yeah you try to steal our jobs!”

 Jeremy: We did not! You tried to ruin our jobs!!

 Rigby - “Well you guys are stuck up jerks!”

 Chad - “Well you two are no good loafers!!”

 Benson: *furious* “SHUT UP!!!”

 The four silence themselves and see Benson turning red with anger. This scared all four of them into being quiet. 

 Rigby - *whispers* “Uh should we run?”

 Mordecai: *whispers* “No dude.”

 Jeremy - *scared and nervous* “Uhh you ok?”

 Benson - *livid* “DO I LOOK OKAY!?!?!?!”

 Mordecai - “We're dead, aren't we?”

 Rigby - “Yep. You know what to do for my funeral.”

 Benson - “I'm so angry I want to rip your limb from limb before firing all of you!!”

 They all flinched in fear. But then Benson started to calm down and taking deep breath. 

 Benson: *takes a deep breath* “But I won't. Instead, I'm gonna do something else to make you four learn a little something about working together.”

 Mordecai - “Really? What is it?”

 Benson - “Stick out your hands.”

 Rigby - “Why?”

 Benson - “Just do it or your fired!”

 Rigby - *annoyed* “Alright Alright!”

 They all stuck out their hands and they all looked confused.

 Mordecai - “Now what dude?”

 All of a sudden, Benson used special cuffs to shackle them together. He shackled Jeremy and Mordecai together and then did the same to Rigby and Chad. It led the four to them to be shocked and confusing.

 Mordecai - “Dude! What the H did you do?!”

 Rigby - “Are you taking us to jail?!”

 Benson - “No, I'm chaining you guys together until

You learn to get along and not fight. It an old park working exercise.”

 Mordecai - “Dude! Benson! This is not cool at all.”

 Chad - “Yeah! You can't do this to us!”

 Benson - “It's either this or you're all fired!!”

 Jeremy - “Ugh this suck!”

 Benson - “That's too bad because those are not coming off until you all get along. So there.”

 He led the four dudes out of his office. They all began to walk out of the house leaving the others to glare at each other.

 Rigby - “This is all you guys fault!”

 Chad - “Shut up you jerk! It's your fault too.”

 Mordecai - “Don't you blame us for this! We didn't even want to fight! You guys started it!”

 Jeremy - “We were just doing our jobs!”

 Rigby - *scoffs* “More like stealing our jobs!”

 Chad - “We don't steal anything!”

 Mordecai - “How long are we chained for anyway?”

 Jeremy - “Who knows?”

 Rigby - “What are we gonna do now?”

 Chad - “Guess we're stuck together until Benson takes these stupid chains off.”

 Mordecai: *sarcastic* “Oh joy....”

 Jeremy - “Yeah no kidding...I'm starting to get hungry.”

 Rigby - “Me too. How about Fry It Up?”

 Chad - *disgusted* “No way! That place is a grease trap.”

 Rigby - *annoyed* “No you're a Grease trap!”

 Mordecai - “Let's just go to the coffee shop.”

 Jeremy - “Fine.”

 Rigby and Chad only scoff at each other as they head to the coffee shop. They made it to the coffee shop and Jeremy look around. Jeremy has a mildly displease look on his face.

 Jeremy - “Hmmm look a bit tacky.”

 Mordecai: *smug* “Your glasses look tacky…”

 Jeremy - *mad* “I heard that!”

 Margaret - “Hey Guys!”

 They saw Margaret and Eileen coming over to their table. 

 Mordecai - “Oh hey Margaret.”

 Eileen -  “Hi Rigby! *sees the chains* Uh why are you guys shackled together?”

 Rigby - “It's a long story.”

 Mordecai - “A really long story”

 Margaret - “Okay...so what'll it be, guys?”

 Mordecai - “Some soda and a sandwich please.”

 Jeremy - “Same for me.” 

 Mordecai - “You eat that for lunch too?”

 Jeremy - “Of course I do. It's my favorite since I was a kid.”

 Mordecai - “Nice! Mine too”

 Chad: *to Rigby* “What about you?”

 Rigby - “I like sloppy joes.”

 Chad - “You too?”

 Rigby - “Yeah! With chili cheese fries.”

 Chad - *disgusted* “Ugh! I hate chili cheese fries.”

 Rigby - *offended* “What's wrong with it?!”

 Chad - “It's just too much stuff on fries alone. Personally I like onion rings.”

 Rigby - “Witch ketchup?”

 Chad - “Spicy ketchup.”

 Rigby - *disgusted* “Gross.”

 Chad - *mad* “Like your face!”

 Rigby - “Your face is gross!”

 Mordecai - *annoyed* “Will you guys stop!?”

 Jeremy - *annoyed* “Yeah! You're acting like kids!”

 Both - *pointed to each other* “He started it!”

 Mordecai - “Ugh this chain thing is a bad idea.”

 After bringing them their food, Margaret and Eileen the argument that was happening. Wanting them to get along, Margaret and Eileen started to get an idea and walk up to them. 

 Margaret - “We know something that can help.”

 Mordecai - “Really? Like what?”

 Eileen - “Maybe you guys can go play video games?”

 Rigby - “We would if Muscle Man didn't break our system again!”

 Margaret - “Why don't you go camping? I heard that can help two people bonds. I mean, you guys took me before and it was fun.”

 Mordecai - “Well okay. It never hurts to go camping. I mean we did go a bunch of time and it was fun.”

 Rigby: *mutters* “Except the past two times we got killed.” *Mordecai slugs Rigby’s arm* Owww!!!”

 Chad - “Dude watch it! You almost hit my face!”

 Rigby - “Well you should have moved your face!”

 Chad and Rigby started to argue and push each other. Then Jeremy said:

 Jeremy - *annoyed* “Guys enough! Let's just get this camping over with.”

 Mordecai - “Yeah. I mean the faster we do it the faster the chain can come off.”

 Rigby -“And you guys go away forever.”

 Chad and Jeremy - “Agreed!”

 ()()()()()()()()

 After finishing their meals, Mordecai, Rigby, Chad and Jeremy went to the house to pack some things for a camping trip. Then when they were finishing packing up, they took the cart to the campsite. After getting, they were now to the forest in their secret spot and Mordecai asked Jeremy: 

 Mordecai - “Have you guys ever been camping?”

 Jeremy - “Yeah. When we were little.”

 Chad - “He and I went on camping trips with our families as kids.”

 Mordecai - *amazed* “Whoa! You guys are childhood friends just like me and Rigby.”

 Chad - “Wait you guys were friends as kids?”

 Rigby - “Yeah. Well technically we knew each other since we were babies.”

 Mordecai - *chuckled* “Yeah. We have been inseparable ever since.”

 Jeremy - “So have me and Chad.”

 Then they all began to set up camp. Rigby was just taking random stuff out at the bag. Then he noticed Chad taking out the matches. 

 Rigby - “Give me the matches!”

 Chad - *annoyed* “We gotta make the tent first!”

 Rigby -  “I thought you make the fire first!”

 Chad - “That not until when it gets dark!”

 Rigby - “But how are we gonna cook food genius!��

 Chad - “Tent first, fire later!”

 As the two were arguing, Jeremy and Mordecai were gathering firewood. They noticed their two best friends fighting and Jeremy said:

 Jeremy: *whispers* “How do you put up with that?”

 Mordecai - *head shaking* “You have no idea.”

 Jeremy - “Chad can be a bit stubborn.”

 Mordecai - “So have Rigby.”

 Jeremy - “Guess we both deal with the same thing.”

 Mordecai -  “No kidding.”

 They began to put the firewood on the ground. 

 Mordecai - “Hey, why don't we get some fresh water?”

 Jeremy - “You know how to get fresh water?”

 Mordecai - “Sure I do. My friend, Skips, taught me.”

 Mordecai lead Jeremy the way to the lake that would have to drink. Then he started to put them in water bottles so they can save for later. Jeremy looked impressed and amazed and said:

 Jeremy - “Oh I know how to do that too.”

  Mordecai - “Really? let me guess: You learned in school?”

 Jeremy - “Actually no. My uncle Ted taught me when I was 7.”

 Mordecai - “Really?”

 Jeremy - “Yeah. We were really close.”

 Mordecai - *amazed* “That's cool! I am close with my uncle Steve too.”

 Jeremy - “Really? What'd y'all do?”

 Mordecai - *shrugged* “Just hang out, bowling, camping, etc.”

 Jeremy - “Must be nice you have an uncle who's still around.”

 Mordecai - “What do you mean?”

 Jeremy - “Oh nothing, no big deal.”

 Mordecai - “No dude, you can tell me. I know we don't know each other very well and got into some trouble, but you can tell me if you want.”

 Jeremy - “Well okay. *sighs sadly* My uncle Ted died when I was ten...cancer took his life.”

 Mordecai - *sadly* “Oh dude I'm so sorry...

 Jeremy - “It's fine...I mean it's nature stuff, right?”

 Mordecai - “I guess... I know it's hard but talking about it might make you feel better. It worked on some of my friends.”

 Jeremy - “Yeah...That's true cause I haven't talked about him in a while.”

 Mordecai - “Well you can now.”

 They sit by the stream and was looking about it. Something about looking at stream made Mordecai and Jeremy feel at peace and calm. However, Mordecai didn’t want things to be awkward, so he said:

 Mordecai - “So...What was he like?”

 Jeremy - *smiled and sighed* “He was a really amazing guy. He actually inspires me to go to college since he noticed how much I love technology and how good I am with it. He inspired me to get a good education and become the best I can be. He wasn't just an uncle...he was another best friend.”

 Mordecai - “Sound like he was a really cool Uncle.”

 Jeremy - “He was....until when I was 9 when he was diagnosed with lung cancer. He only lasted a year before he....passed on.”

 Mordecai - *sympathetic* “I'm so sorry Jeremy.”

 Jeremy felt the tears welling up, but he shakes it off. He never felt comfortable crying in front of people. Especially in front of people he doesn’t know that well.

 Jeremy - *sighs* “Thanks. It's been so hard on me. In fact...today was the day of his death.”

 Mordecai - “Oh dude…”

 Jeremy - “Yeah...I thought doing stuff help me get my mind off it. That's why I got so angry with you and your friend. I guess when things went wrong today, I just kinda lost it. I'm....sorry.”

 Mordecai - *sighs* “I'm sorry too. We just didn't want to lose our jobs because we need it.”

 Jeremy - “Why didn't you just tell us? We couldn't talk to your boss or something.”

 Mordecai - “I don't know. I guess we were just paranoid and stuff.”

 Jeremy - “Well in retrospect, I guess he did want to replace you guys. But he told us how lazy you were and didn't care about your jobs.”

 Mordecai - “No No. I mean we do care about our jobs, but sometimes he can be strict on us. One time he made us mow the lawn again because it was “an inch too tall”.”

 Jeremy - “You serious?”

 Mordecai - “Oh yeah. He even made us ride bikes instead of the parks cart and said we were acting like kids.”

 Jeremy - “That is kind of rough.”

 Jeremy started to feel bad for Mordecai and Rigby. Turn out being a groundskeeper is a tough job after all. Jeremy feel like deep down; he doesn’t really blame Mordecai and Rigby for slacking off. If he and Chad ever had a boss like Benson, they would have slack off too because they can’t stand really strict bosses. 

 Mordecai - “Tell me about it. And that coming from a dude who eats chicken wings all the time.”

 Jeremy - *surprised* “Whoa really?”

 Mordecai - “Oh totally! He acts drunk when he eats too much of them.”

 Jeremy - *chuckled* That's kind of funny

 Mordecai: *chuckles* Yeah. So how about we start over? *offers a hand* Wanna be friends?”

 As much as he hated being chained, this actually help Jeremy realize that Mordecai isn’t a bad dude at all. He’s actually a really nice guy and somebody he can talk to. Sure, he’s best friends with Chad but feel like Mordecai is the perfect person to talk to with deep feelings like about his Uncle’s death. Jeremy decided to give Mordecai a second chance and start over. 

 Jeremy - *smiled* “Yeah I like that.”

 They shake hands but then they heard thunder sound. They looked up and saw how the clouds got dark and it began to rain. The rain was starting to get hard. 

 Mordecai - “Aw dude we better head back!”

 They began to walk back to the campsite but was trying to do it fast yet, at a steady pace due to still being chained up. However, it was raining hard to the point where the dirt and the rocks started becoming muddy and slippery. It causes Mordecai trip and fell on the ground.

 Mordecai - “Ow!” *held his ankle in pain* 

 Jeremy - *concerned*  “Dude What's wrong?”

 Mordecai - “My ankle! I sprained it.”

 Jeremy knelt down and looks at Mordecai’s ankle. Mordecai was right: it was indeed sprained, and it look swollen. However, Jeremy knew what to do. 

 Jeremy - “Hold still a second.”

 He rips part of the sleeve of his hoodie and wraps it around Mordecai’s ankle carefully. Then he helps Mordecai to his feet and held on to his arm.

 Jeremy - “Hang on.”

 Mordecai - *confused* “What are you doing?”

 Jeremy - “Trust me, I know what to do Just keep your leg elevated and hold on to me.”

 Mordecai - “Alright!”

 Mordecai did what Jeremy told him to do. Then they made it to Chad and Rigby who was putting the stuff away into the car due to the rain. Then they saw their friends coming toward them. 

 Jeremy - “Guys! We need to take Mordecai to the hospital. He hurt his ankle.”

 Rigby - *concerned* “What?! *to Mordecai* Dude You Okay?”

 Mordecai - *wincing* “Kind of. It just really hurts.”

 Chad - “Let’s go!”

 Jeremy - “We gotta hurry because the rain gets worse!”

 Chad -  “I'll drive!”

 Rigby - *mad* “Why you!”

 All - “RIGBY!!!”

 Rigby - “Alright Fine! Let’s just go!”

 They began to drive off to the Hospital. When they made it to the building, Jeremy help Mordecai walk inside the Hospital. Then they walk up to the front desk clerk. 

 Jeremy - “We need a Doctor. My friend hurt his ankle.”

 Clerk - “ Alright but I can't do anything if you two are shackled up.”

 Rigby - “We don't have the key.”

 Benson - “But I do!”

 They turned around and saw Benson  behind him with a sprained wrist. The sprained wrist was wrapped in gauze bandage. 

 Mordecai - *confused and concerned* “Whoa Benson what happened to you?”

 Benson - *sight and sound annoyed* “Muscle Man got into a fight with the guy from the hot dog truck again and I had to help break it up. Anyway, I can see that you two finally managed to work together.

 Mordecai - “Yeah. Can you please free us? My ankle really starting to hurt.”

 Benson -  *holds the key* “Sure thing.”

 Benson walked over to them and unlocks Mordecai and Jeremy's chain wrists. They were now free from their chains much to their happiness. 

 Jeremy - “Thanks.”

 Rigby - “What about me and Chad?”

 Benson - *shook his head* “Nope. I can tell that you and Chad still need more work.”

 Chad & Rigby - *shocked* “What?!”

 Benson - “It's clear to me that you too still didn't learn your lesson.”

 Rigby - *mad*  “Aw what?!”

 Chad - *mad* “This isn't fair!”

 Benson - “Life ain't fair!”

 Mordecai is escorted by Jeremy and the Doctor while Benson were scolding their friends.

 Mordecai - “Thanks pal.”

 Jeremy - “No problem man.”

 Jeremy helped Mordecai sit on the bed and the doctor examined his ankle. Then the doctor said:

 Doctor - “Not to worry. Just a sprained ankle should heal up in a few days.”

 Mordecai - “Thanks Doctor.”

 Doctor: *smiles* “You should really be thanking your friend. Some quick thinking to prevent any infection or more damage to your ankle.”

 Jeremy - “Yeah I learn that when I was younger.”

 Doctor: *puts a hand on his shoulder* “Well whoever taught you should be proud.”

 Jeremy gave a sad smile before the doctor walked out of the room for a few minutes. Mordecai noticed it and said:

 Mordecai - “...Your uncle Ted taught you, didn't he?

 Jeremy - *nods* “He taught me a lot of frost aid skills when we went camping together. He even taught me what to do if I was bitten by a snake.”

 Mordecai - *amazed* “Whoa.”

 Jeremy: “Yeah. Hey, if you want, I can teach you that too.”

 Mordecai - “Really?”

 Jeremy - “Yeah it's pretty simple.”

 Mordecai - *smiles* “I think I like that.”

 Then the doctor came back holding some crutches and gauze bandages. 

 Doctor - “I'm back now let's wrapped up your ankle.”

 The doctor gently wrapped Mordecai's ankle in the bandage. Then he was finished and said: 

 Doctor - “Now for the week you need to rest it and give it some ice pack so the swelling can go down. The crutches can help you walk too.”

 Mordecai - *nodding* “Will do.”

 Jeremy - “Come on. I'll drive you home.”

 Mordecai - “Thanks dude.”

 Jeremy - “You need help?”

 Mordecai - “No it's okay I got it.”

 Jeremy - “Alright.” 

 Jeremy kept an eye on Mordecai who was doing okay with using the crutches. They head to the lobby  to see Rigby and Chad still arguing over something stupid.

 Chad - “This is all your fault!”

 Rigby - No it's yours!”

 Mordecai - *annoyed* “Guys enough!!”

 Jeremy - Yeah, you're acting like babies

 Chad & Rigby - “We are not!”

 Mordecai - “Dudes chill! Let's just go to the house and I'll order us some pizzas. Everybody loves pizza.”

 Jeremy - “That's cool of you. Thanks!”

 Mordecai - “Hey, it's the least I can do since you help me out.”

 Rigby - *calming down* “I guess pizza will be fine.”

 Chad - *calming down as well* “Yeah it sounds good.”

 Jeremy - “Then let's go.”

 They head back to the house and got to hang out and get to know each other better even more. But it still took a couple days for Rigby and Chad to get along and finally get the cuffs off but now all four of them are good friends. They all learned that if they get to know each other a little more instead of judging, they would actually be great friends.