#he wants a piece of your cake he wants a Piece of your Cake...same tactic

[uwuyangeppie]

This is gonna be so random but like imagine gepard kidnapping you right and going on his whole speech and whatever just for reader to look him dead in his face and say “Well that ruins my plans” because they were planning on kidnapping HIM and doing the same to him😭 basically stalker x obsessed!reader

LMAOOOO,,, aww look at the cute little couple!! they’re both incredibly mentally ill and need to be locked up. therapy can’t save them.

this piece mentions pregnancy, so if you happen to have a male body type, just chalk it up to mpreg lmfao

if ruan mei can make those cute little cake cat things that speak, gepard landau can impregnate anyone he chooses.

anyway, let’s give gepard a controlled shock!

you decide that it’s best to be nice. after all, he is the captain of the guards, and you have been doing some fairly illegal things. if you’re aggressive, he might choose to investigate further.

cause sure, you’re tied up, but it’s not like there’s any other guards around. this could just be a test.

��-and your rat bastard employer who’s always looking at you in such a disgusting way, but of course i don’t have any proof, i just notice things, and no proof won’t get him any jail time and killing him, well- and- and anyway, this is all for your own good, okay? and mine! i’m stopping crime before it happens, so really, this is actually a crime prevention tactic, and not a kidnapping. i know that’s what it looks like. but it’s not. it’s not a kidnapping. it’s crime prevention.”

ahhh…

oh, wait. ugh.

“well, that ruins my plans.”

gepard blinks at you. “what?”

you bat your eyes at him. “are you sure you want to kidnap me?”

“it’s not a kidnapping-”

“you have to worry about food and water and stuff and you already have so much on your plate! just come live at my house forever and ever and ever~ i’ll feed you everything! anything you want! it’ll be a holiday you won’t need to put in leave for! sure, i won’t let you out of the house or anything, but you don’t need that! you can just stay with me! forever! i promise i won’t use the handcuffs i got my hands on- haha- the other day! we can snuggle together in my bed and i can be the little spoon and eventually… maybe… continue the family line…?”

gepard is looking at you, completely stunned.

interesting. cute!

you did mean everything you said, though.

he opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it.

“i think i’d look soooooo cute carrying your kids, don’t you?!”

the captain looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t know how to. eventually, though, he breaks past his confusion-

“um, maybe i should reevaluate who i develop feelings for. self-reflect, and all.”

and with that, he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

[shaanks]

if you try to pout at Shanks about something he pouts back at you and flops into your lap and is 100000000x worse than you about it. you literally can't out-whine that man he's a nightmare to deal with.

[fatuismooches]

(About the Dottore sugar tax)

I like to imagine that some members of the Fatui are very discreet in handing out the sweets.

Oh, one of their comrades is getting a scolding and it looks like it's escalating? Quick! Sneak a sweet nearby that the Lord Harbinger could spot easily!

And what happens is that mid-rant, the segment would glance just a little to the side behind the researcher and he sees - what the fuck?? Why is there a Charcoal-Baked Ajilenakh Cake on the desk??? How? When???

And he just gets so confused that he kinda momentarily short-circuits

The Fatui can't keep using the sweets tactics too often tho, they might accidentally pavlov their lord into hating sweets if he keeps receiving them when he's angry!

It happened with Omega already, he scowled at the Fatui Skirmisher and demanded if the agent thought of him as a dog that could be placated with a mere treat. Yeah that guy is dead now.

And of course the segments start to get suspicious by the sixth incident of receiving a sweet out of nowhere.

Zandik is baffled, because somehow everyone and their damn mother knows he has a sweet tooth and he is convinced that Pantalone has something to do with it (probably the ninth trying to gain his favour for a new gadget to sell)

Reader: sweating in the background.

Wait no I got pavlov's experiment mixed up: It would be more accurate to say that since Dottore keeps receiving sweets when he's angry - he starts to subconsciously expect sweets when he's frustrated. Which is even funnier because imagine how confused he'd be. He's stressing about failed results, why is he salivating???

OH MY GOSH... THIS IS LIKE THE FUNNIEST AND CUTEST THING EVER AHH!! When you work for someone such as Il Dottore, it is important to stick together with your fellow co-workers. Because you never know what will happen. And also, you don't really want to be carrying your new friend's dead body to the experimentation room. So it's important to look out for each other every now and then. This includes distracting the Harbinger's attention in any way possible from the target of his assault. Even if it means sneaking sweets into the lab. Yes, it is truly terrifying work, but it is necessary, especially when you were so kind to bestow this protection upon them.

THE WHOLE ASS CHARCOAL CAKE IS WHAT MAKES ME DIE... 😭 Was he really so caught up in his ranting that he didn't notice it? Actually, never mind that, how did they know he likes sweets, much less prefers Sumerian sweets compared to any other nation? All the agents have the exact same poker face, betraying absolutely nothing, for their lives are genuinely on the line right now. It was all riding on this Charcoal-Baked Ajilenakh Cake. Yes, this was 100% serious.

Ugh... if i was a regular agent think i'd rather die than present the OMEGA segment of all a piece of candy. The courage it'd take is insane. But oops. The other agents knew from that day they needed to be more careful with their tactics... yes, they have to add this to the handbook now. 😭 I imagine, the method begins to be used sparsely because the segments are not going to let their reputation be dumbed down to the guys who can be won over by mere sweets. Nope, not happening, they should be feared! Not known to the Fatui as being a sweets lover! So subduing the segments with sweets only happens on very violent days. Or if you happen to be in the room, you'll happily take the sweets offered by the agents and share them with the segment to make him calm down.

EBWKBEWEW DOTTORE BLAMING PANTALONE FOR ALL HIS PROBLEMS!! 😭 ah he would, despite how smart he is, it just completely slips his mind that you could have done this as well. Oh well! You just hope he doesn't find out! *nervous sweating intensifies*

Teehee him stressing not only over his failed results but his sudden urge to devour some sweets... it's really annoying for him though, usually, he ignores his growling stomach for a long time but, the taste of sweets is just haunting him and his tastebuds.

Maybe if he asks you, you can make some that lasts a few days... because at this rate, he expects to be thinking about sweets for a while with how poorly his experiments are going.

[my-makeshift-masquerade]

hey i wanna see a lil thing where adult reader is having a quiet meltdown at a family member's birthday party bc of sensory overload (perhaps auditory) but is trying not to ruin the party thus gone to their own corner, and spring bonnie notices

(fluff preferred bc it's me but do what's more natural)

please and ty <3

(Sorry I am so late, Spike! I gotcha friendo! This drabble is gonna be named after my dad’s favorite song of all time by Depeche Mode. I’ve decided… I would’ve made this way fluffier and played into that song inspiration more but the scenario didn’t really allow for it… Either way I hope you…)

Enjoy the Silence

Why? Why did your little cousin want to go to this place?!

Everything was too loud! The screeching banshees called children were running around your legs… Angsty teens all the while obnoxiously teasing them from the halls… Meanwhile the other adults kept up their meaningless chattering… Not to mention the kiddie songs playing on loop for the past hour and a half. They should use this as a tactic to torture criminals… You’d confess to a murder you didn’t even commit just to get out of here right now.

Your aunt looked at you with a pressuring stare as you tried once again to slowly back away to the exit. The party was only halfway done. They hadn’t even done cake and presents yet. Who were you to ruin a kid’s birthday party with your slowly escalating migraine? The other adults tolerated fine, so you could handle yourself for just a little longer… Right. Right?

You saw some little boy with a bear crying as he tugged on the security guard’s hand. The guard knelt down and picked up the child, pressing one ear against his chest and covering the other with his hand. Initially you were upset by the noise the kid made, but that poor little dude must have found this all way too loud as well… Can’t blame him.

The man caught you staring and raised an eyebrow, icy blue eyes flickering in curiosity. It made you look away and resort to walking to one of the back halls. The guard was tracking your movements, probably suspicious of you messing with something. You didn’t realize this hallway wasn’t the one customers were supposed to enter, as you saw a group of teens with candy cigarettes at the end of the corridor. They didn’t seem to care about your presence.

You stayed in the corner opening up to the party area, watching as the guard passed you with the boy in tow. He seemed to look you over, pause, then nod his head slightly in acknowledgement, as if knowing why you were here. The boy didn’t make eye contact with you, too focused on the bear in his arms. It alarmed you that the guard took the child to one of the back rooms, but then you took a step back and assumed that must just be his child.

Your cousin’s wailing was heard from the party area as someone else took a turn on a game before them, and you were beginning to lose your composure. Now every sound took you one step closer to overload. Every word spoken, every buzz of the florescent lights, every single beat in that same stupid kiddie song. It all became too much. You pressed your hands against your ears and stayed at the corner of the entrance to the hallway. A few staff members and now the teenagers looked at you funny, but it was at least a little quieter over here.

You needed the noise to stop. You needed it NOW.

“Are you alright, pal?”

You nearly fell over into a bunch of balloons. The figure was inches away from you. It was the goofy rabbit robot from the stage. What the fuck was it doing back here?!

“Careful—“ A cold metal hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back up, but in the process…

POP!

A balloon must have come into contact with a sharp piece of the rabbit’s hand, popping instantly. It was quiet for a moment apart from the music… Then one by one, every child started crying or exclaiming, and all the parents rushed to calm them. A cacophony of chaotic emotions and voices dominated even the loud kiddie tunes in volume. All the while the robot bear alone on stage went through the same motions.

“…Oops…” The animatronic murmured in a sort of surprised defeat, turning to you, “Follow me to the back… Those rooms are soundproof.”

You didn’t think twice and let yourself be led by the hand to one of the back rooms of this shoddy establishment. It smelled like sweat and pizza grease, with the lingering stench of something metallic. But oh was the quiet in this room the most beautiful music you ever heard… You sighed in relief and took a few deep breaths.

“That’s a lot better, isn’t it?” The rabbit tilted their head almost mechanically.

“God yeah…” You murmured, “Thanks…”

They couldn’t smile, but their jaw closed a bit as if to give off an impression they could. They had their arms open, as if expecting a hug.

Oh right… Kid’s mascot. This thing probably always expected people to get touchy. You were surprised at how gently it held you when you invited it to. It actually was a welcome feeling…? You sighed, shaking your head.

“Great. My cousin is gonna say this is the worst party ever now…” You covered one of your eyes with a hand, trying to block out light and ease the migraine.

“Aw, gosh… I don’t think so…” The rabbit spoke, establishing space between you both again, “They looked like they were having a blast out there!”

“R-really?” You frowned, “They’re a bit of a brat… Anything not perfect on their birthday could set them off into a tantrum. I didn’t want to ruin their party by leaving—“

“You didn’t ruin their party! It’s not even over yet, silly!” The automaton rabbit reassured you, “It settles down after the first half. Trust me… Once the little buggers have pizza, cake and ice cream in them, they start getting groggy…”

“Yeah… I guess…” You sighed, looking around at all the spare robotic parts in the room curiously now that your mind was clearer, “I…I think I am ready to go back now.”

“Let’s see…” The animatronic opened the door to hear the announcement for everyone to gather around for cake and the birthday song, “Oh, dear! I’m late— I need to get back on stage before—“

“There you are. Why did you leave the stage? Run along before they start without you…” A stern but almost threatening voice came from outside as the animatronic gave you one last look and left to take their place.

You got up to leave the room, bumping into the guard from before.

“Well, I see you got a backstage tour from Spring Bonnie… ” The same voice said with a snide tone, “Enjoy yourself?”

“Sorry, sir…” You dusted off your pants, “I got overwhelmed by the noise and they were just trying to help me. Please don’t fire them.”

“Fire them?” The man laughed, as if your statement was somehow utterly ridiculous, “Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly do that…”

“But… But wasn’t that one of your employees in a cos—“

“We make some real magic happen here at Fredbear’s Family Diner.” He winked, turning away, “Now if you’ll excuse me, my son also has issues with sensory overload and I ought to check on him in my office…”

You made your way back out to the party area and saw your little cousin happily blowing out candles. Getting close to the stage, you saw that in fact there was no sign of a person in that rabbit. There was no way that was just a robot? It was way too intelligent!

The rabbit winked at you before seemingly not acknowledging your existence for the rest of the day.

[angelblacksmith]

Unfortunate prank. (s.b.)

Pairing: Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Summary: After an unsuccessful prank, the reader takes offense at Sirius and stops talking to him.

Warning: a little offense, a prank, easy ignoring

Word count: 514

"Y/n ... Y/n ... Y/n...." Sirius was not silent for about an hour, repeating the same thing and also hoping that you would give up. After the prank that happened the day before, you made a clear promise to yourself not to talk to the annoying boy and have so far successfully followed this rule. Sirius and James decided to make a joke and gave you a cake in honor of your birthday. However, naturally, it was not a simple cake. There was a firecracker inside, ready to explode and smash the cake into small pieces. The cake got on your clothes, face, hair, and now you have announced a boycott to two boys, one of whom was your boyfriend. Naturally, the cake was nothing more than a joke, and you received your real gifts from James and Sirius on the same day. However, the apology in the form of which Sirius brought you flowers and sweets was not enough. And now Black has changed tactics and decided to make you talk to him in a more effective way. His method was to annoy you until you talked to him.

"Y/n I am very, very, very sorry! Y/n talk to me... "Y/n... Y/n... Y/n". Closing the book and turning to face Sirius, who was safely lying on your bed, you looked at him reproachfully. Sirius, on the contrary, was inspired and looked at you with puppy dog eyes. None of you were in a hurry to break eye contact.

"Just talk to me. Please." His voice sounded soft, melodious and gentle. Immediately getting out of bed, he walked over to the comfortable red chair where you were sitting.

"I'll do whatever you want. Honestly, honestly! Just, please talk to me." Sirius looked like a little puppy asking for affection. However, having managed to resist such a charm, you turned away from him. Sirius sighed wearily and went back to your bed.

After another hour or so, you couldn't stand it. It was clear that it couldn't go on like this anymore and it was impossible to ignore Sirius forever. Especially in connection with his persistence and desire to apologize.

"I will forgive you, but on one condition..."

***

"Oh my God, Sirius! What's wrong with your hair?" Mary's mouth dropped open in amazement. And not only she, a lot of people have told Sirius about his modified appearance today.

"I changed my image. Do you like it?" Sirius proudly waved his dyed green hair. "Y/n is now my personal stylist. And she recommended me to add a little unexpected charm to my appearance. By the way, how do you like the color? She also picked up this incredible shade of dark green."

Sirius was smiling happily and was absolutely unperturbed and proud. No matter how much he had to disgrace himself and go through a whole month with green hair, it is important that now y/n no longer ignores him.

However, Sirius was already starting to think about mixing blue dye into her shampoo...

[bluesora]

celebrating mother’s day with you

tsukishima kei ; sugawara kōshi ; oikawa torū ; kita shinsuke

headcanon ; fluff ; age up ; snippets of cuteness ; parenthood ; special edition — mother’s day

note: i’m not sure if i portrayed each characterization well but i just thought it’ll be fun to write one. after all, i was blessed to be born with loving parents and i just wanted to share the love i’m grateful for.

tagging: @forgetou @amjustagirl @yacoka @haikyuutothetop @luvnami ;; thank you for dropping these characters as i couldn’t decide who to write for. (of course it was more exciting without context)

ps. it’s longer than expected i’m sorry :’)

tsukishima kei

tsukishima isn’t one who would remember special occasions unless someone had schedule a plan in advance with him. when he wondered if he should do anything for you after hearing his colleagues whispering during break, his work got busier than usual so he had forgotten about it.

that was, until he realized he had ten missed calls from his son; which was odd because he weren’t one to call him so often.

“i was in a meeting, what hap—” before tsukishima could finish his sentence, his son interrupted him, “i bought mom’s favorite cake since you’re slow. hurry home or there’s none left for you,” the line was cut right after; which of course left poor tsukishima’s partner to deal with the aftermath. “tsukishima-san, about the report—”

“it must be so urgent that it needs my immediate attention even when i’m packing up right?” his words dripped of pure sarcasm despite the polite smile hanging from his lips. everyone could literally see the panic swirling in his partner’s pupil.

“i’m sorry!! good work today and see you tomorrow!!” it’s the weekend tomorrow, but tsukishima was too hung up on his son’s attitude to shoot another of his sarcastic reply.

you, on the other hand, were neither someone who would celebrate such occasion unless it was for birthdays or holidays. therefore, you didn’t really had anything in mind nor were you expecting anything as well.

when you finally reached home from a tiring day at work, you were definitely not expecting to see your favorite cake on the table while your son popped a party popper with a party horn in his mouth right beside you.

“happy mother’s day!” he tried to mumble out with the horn still in his mouth. you couldn’t help but chuckle at the unexpected surprise, dropping your bag on the counter just so you could hug him—one that he wholeheartedly hugged you back because tsukishima wasn’t around.

it took an hour for tsukishima to be home, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand when he walked over to where you and the cheeky lad was sitting. “oh! you didn’t have to though,” you smiled in surprise.

“dad’s just guilty he forgot about our promise and didn’t want to come home empty handed.” you chuckled at that, perhaps it wasn’t entirely wrong either but you still appreciate the sentiment. it was rare for him after all.

“those who break promises don’t get desserts.” he continued to press his dad’s buttons, only to see tsukishima loosened his tie with an expression he could not understand.

“oh, but that’s on your mom to decide if i’ll get one tonight or not.” you could feel your face heating up at your husband’s words, the tone and smile that dawned on his face was a look you knew oh so well.

“tch...i thought i hid it well.” of course, your clueless son didn’t know the true meaning of those words and thought the strawberry shortcake he bought for his dad was found out.

sugawara kōshi

sugawara would definitely plan in advance with the children. especially when they were the ones who excitedly wanted to do something for you.

“mama like animals! lets go to the zoo!” the middle child exclaimed with so much enthusiasm, sugawara could only chuckle at her adorable smile.

“you only said that because you wanted to go to the zoo, dummy.” the eldest one huffed, feeling proud that he saw through her obvious tactic.

it didn’t take long for the two to start crawling over each other in a fight while the youngest one giggled amusingly as if she was watching a performance. that was, until an insult was thrown at her so she joined in the fight to prove her worth.

“if you don’t stop now, we’ll be celebrating at home like how we did the past two years.” that immediately ceased all action, since they haven’t had the chance to go out together as a whole family thanks to your busy schedule.

“how about the park? the cherry blossoms have bloomed and mama likes going to the park!” of course, sugawara was fond of this idea. it’s been a while since there was a family picnic session.

and so on that very day in which you finally managed to take a day off, you weren’t expecting to be blind folded while having your children guide you to wherever you were supposed to be.

knowing how clumsy the trio could be, he wanted to accompany them as well but was outright rejected when they said they could do it themselves with so much confidence, he wasn’t sure who they got it from.

with their tiny hands, it took a while for them to tie the piece of cloth around your eyes, and even when they did, it wasn’t tied well enough so you could actually still see your footing (which saved you immensely from all the accidental knocks along the way)

after what felt like forever, you finally reached the park where they shouted ‘happy mother’s day’ in unison. you kind of already knew it’ll be a picnic from the soft grass beneath your feet and those fallen pink petals, but you were still moved to tears when you saw your children squeezed together into your husband’s arms while cute decoration and plates of food were spread between you and them.

“mama, try the cookie first! i made them myself!” the middle one was the first to break the silence.

“no! try my sandwich first, i’m the eldest!”

“so what if you’re the eldest? mama must be thirsty from walking so have my ultimate happy berry juice!” the youngest chirped with pride, as if her logic was a straight pass to winning.

you laughed at their competitive nature, which was oh so endearing at the same time. and it was obvious if you don’t decide soon, an all out food war was going to happen.

“before that, shouldn’t mama receive papa’s present first?” sugawara’s cheerful voice interrupted their little argument, and just before the youngest could ask what it was, her eyes was covered by the eldest son along with the middle one.

you couldn’t help but hit his arm in embarrassment when his lips met yours longer than it should’ve been.

“hey! that’s not fair, i didn’t get to see papa’s present,” your middle one sulked, only to be carried into sugawara’s arms as he peck her little cheek with a wink. “why don’t you ask mama what it was, baby?”

oikawa torū

it was supposed to be a big surprise where he came home earlier than the date he had told you. he even told the kids about it and they promised to make it a success (money was definitely involved to be honest)

“make sure you delay mummy at the grocery store long enough for me to set everything up in time.” he reminded his daughter time and time again, only to have her sigh at his impatience.

“i think i’m old enough to not forget something so simple dad. and please stop addressing mom like that, it’s creepy.” she cringed, wondering how you even deal with oikawa every day.

“dad, have you even baked a cake before? do you think you can get it done within an hour or maybe two?” his son asked the third time that day, which did irk oikawa with that tone of his.

“of course i can! are you looking down on me? it’s just a simple vanilla cake and some fruits on top. how hard can it be?”

of course, with every rhetorical question that pose a challenge, there would always be an answer exactly of what’s to be expected.

you, with no idea that your husband was making a mess of your kitchen, took your own sweet time at the grocery store since your daughter was there to help and it’s been a while since you had a mother and daughter bonding time.

“do you think your dad would like to have curry tomorrow? or should we just have hamburger steak?” you asked, still unsure of the menu for a celebratory dinner.

“i think he would like anything you cook, so don’t worry about it. dad’s always so happy to eat your homemade meals.” she answered with shrug, but you could tell she was happy to rely the same sentiment.

everything went smoothly and she did managed to stall your time with her longer than the agreed duration. that was, until she received a text from her brother saying dad’s cake was a failure and they should just get one outside; you two were already at the apartment lift when she read it.

“dad, i think you should just give up. they are already walking over from the—” oikawa having enough of his son’s constant nagging about how he should’ve just bought a cake instead, threw a whiff of flour to his son’s face without thinking.

and of course, which kid would not retaliate from that. the kitchen, which originally wasn’t as messy, turned into chaos of white fluff and sticky childish banter between the two.

you, not expecting to see your husband, was clearly surprise when you heard his voice by the door. the only excitement that came from that vanished the moment your eyes fell onto the state of your kitchen.

“happy mother’s day?” oikawa managed to choke out when he felt your growing presence with each step towards him.

“i’m sorry mom, it was my fault please don’t kill dad—” your son pleaded softly by the side, only to fell speechless when you threw yourself into oikawa’s arms instead.

“welcome home,” you greeted with so much warmth, oikawa couldn’t help but embraced you tightly as he replied, “i’m home.”

“mom? you’re not mad?” your daughter asked in disbelief when she brought the groceries – including the ones you dropped – over to the kitchen.

“mad? why would i be when you dad’s sleeping in the kitchen tonight.” you were so serious and certain, the two broke into fits of laughter as they ran from their father (which was fertile because they got caught immediately and was tickled to tears)

“why are you laughing when you two are having a sleepover with daddy tonight.”

“please dad, just stop.”

kita shinsuke

there was no surprises because kita’s way of celebrating was just regular activities but doing it together. which was honestly, what you love to do most since you don’t always get the chance of spending weekdays with your family often.

from preparing meals to visiting town, usually it would be done by kita himself. however, this time because of the special occasion, you took time off to accompany your husband while bringing your little ones along with you.

“mama here’s the carrot,” your little girl placed the orange vegetable on the chopping board before humming a tune while the other twin helped kita with picking the ends of the beansprouts.

“papa are we going to town later?” she beamed excitedly, hands still working on the tiny vegetable while her legs swung to the rhythm of her twin sister’s melody.

“yes, we are. do you have a place you want to visit?” he was done with his side so he continued onto the pile his daughter was removing.

“yes! we want to go to onigiri miya!” they both said at the same time, giggling right after when their father looked surprise.

“all right, let’s go after our lunch.” and everything went along smoothly with the little twins setting the table together while you and kita took turns to cook up the dishes. lunch was pleasant despite minimal words being exchanged since the twins were taught to not talk with their mouth full (and their mouth are always stuffed full)

while you and kita held hands with the twins walking hand in hand by themselves in front, the feeling of nostalgia seemed to tickle your bones at the memory of how you used to take long strolls with kita during your younger days.

“what’s wrong?” kita tugged your hand gently which snapped you back to reality when you realized you all have reached the store.

“nothing...i’m just grateful to be your wife and mother of two beautiful angels.” your smile had him press a fluttering kiss to your temple as he softly replied, “me too.”

“i see yer two are still as lovey-dovey as ever captain.” atsumu popped his head out from the entrance, both twins sitting comfortably on his arms as he carried them as if they were feathers.

“i’m not your captain anymore atsumu, but i see they both seemed to like you.” kita smiled at his two lovely dolls, one that atsumu have never seen much of because of his busy schedule.

“of course, who do you think i am? the better—” but before atsumu could even finish his flex, the two snapped their head over at the appearance of osamu in his apron. their hands immediately reaching out for the man to hug.

“uncle osamu!!” they squealed happily, trying their best to squirm out of atsumu’s grip.

“i guess not huh ‘tsumu,” osamu smirked at the annoyed twin, patting his hands dry before prying the little twins from his brother’s vice grip. of course, they both would fight over the kid’s affection. who wouldn’t right?

you watched the pair of twins in amusement with your head against kita’s shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your delicate frame. this too will be yet another moment kita would not forget, for he felt blissful to be their father and your husband.

[kindness-ricochets]

I’ve been seeing a lot of thoughts and hc of autistic wylan lately and you seem to also be a fan of the concept. May I ask why? Exactly? I could definitely kinda see it but wanna hear you thoughts you’re always so eloquent

Hey there anon! Sorry for the delay—I’m guessing you already found an answer to this elsewhere while I was off Tumblr for a bit, but just in case, here are my thoughts. This will be heavily personal, but… well, you can’t very well ask an autistic person about autism and expect neutrality!

Autism is different for everyone and can be difficult to pin down, so while Wylan is arguably autistic, he misses several beats that for me would have made him definitively and undeniably autistic. For example, when the bells start to ring, triggering black protocol—I work in a place with a lot of bells and am frequently caught too close to one and normally press my hands over my ears until it’s over because that sound is like shrapnel raking across my insides. All of them. Not just the ear and brain parts. Wylan doesn’t have that sort of visceral reaction, but that may just mean he doesn’t have the same sensitivities that I do, or to the same level. He also never, that I recall, eats meat—as weird as that might sound, eating meat is incredibly complicated with heightened sensitivities to taste and texture. I’m not sure how old I was when I realized it was strange to get up from the table to spit out my food because it viscerally repulsed me. So it might be that Wylan is autistic and has different experiences than I do. Those are things I would include in a story as major indicators of a character being autistic. This might also mean that his father’s way of raising him taught him to hide unusual reactions and stimming behaviors. It’s not that much of a reach to assume a man who tried to abuse the dyslexia out of his son would take the same approach to autism. (More on autism and abuse later.)

So while I’m going to lay out why I read Wylan as autistic, that’s why I think it’s valid to read him as not being autistic as well. Both are valid.

A final caveat, I am well overdue for a reread of the books, so I likely left something out or could have found better examples. Take this as a few of my reasons for a personal headcanon. Anyone who feels differently, that's fine! We can each read things our own way :)

1 - Hyperfixation: The way Wylan loves music

Most of the Crows’ backgrounds color how they see the world: Kaz’s shrewdness, Matthias’s tactical thinking and superstition, Inej’s faith and Suli wisdom, etc. That’s a sign of good character writing. But very little of Wylan’s upbringing seems to have influenced how he sees the world. It comes closest when he thinks about how his father would scorn his new friends, but we never see that scorn from Wylan.

The way a hyperfixation feels, it’s like you’ve always lived in a close parallel world, never fully been a part of the other one where it seems like everyone else lives, but suddenly there’s this bright shining piece of your soul laced through the other world. It lets you connect, it lets you exist in their realm, and you can’t help but filter everything new through that lens because it’s the brightest, most wonderful thing. (I had been between hyperfixations for a while when I started a new job; six months into that work, I read Crooked Kingdom. One of my coworkers thought I had fallen in love, it was that marked a difference.)

So, combining these: Wylan never really acts like he was part of his father’s world, and indeed is in some ways separate from the other Crows, but he parses everything through music, his hyperfixation. He sets words to music to remember them, like he does with the contract. Even his own anxiety is made sense of through music, when in his first narrated chapter, he sets it to music: what am I doing here what am I doing here…. When he’s overwhelmed, his thoughts are “a jangle of misplayed chords”. The Crows have backgrounds that influence how they react to the world, but Wylan’s hyperfixation is his means of experiencing and understanding the world.

2 - Literal thinking: Wylan responds to exact words

In this post, I went into detail on the line where Wylan suggested waking up men to kill them. Wylan is generally unsupportive of killing people—Oomen, Smeet’s clerk, his father… he advocates not-murder in each of these situations. Accepting his aversion to murder, his suggestion to wake men up and kill them seems like a genuine reaction to Jesper saying he doesn’t want to kill unconscious men. Wylan takes things literally.

This happens the most with Jesper, probably because Jesper talks to Wylan the most. Nina and Matthias don’t really register him past how he might be useful, Inej is usually quite direct, and Kaz is very deliberate when he speaks with Wylan. This really interests me because Kaz tends to vary his speech more than the others do, he adapts more to being around other people. He jokes a little with Jesper, spars with Nina, speaks more openly and more sharply with Inej, and he’s precise with Wylan. Kaz may not know what autism is, but he recognizes what’s effective with Wylan.

Another example is when Wylan is sketching the Ice Court plans and Jesper says it looks like a cake. There are plenty of valid responses here: pointing out that concentric circles look like lots of things, that it’s just a sketch, telling Jesper to stop looking over his shoulder. Instead, Wylan says that the Ice Court is sort of like a cake. That… doesn’t sound like something Wylan would normally say. He’s not addressing the whole situation, he’s addressing the specific words Jesper said.

One of the most heartbreaking examples of this (to me, anyway) is with Marya. Wylan does the same thing with his mother, when she asks if he’s there for her money and says she hasn’t got any, and his response is, “I don’t either.” We understand as readers that what Marya is communicating here is that she is so accustomed to being utterly ignored unless she is being used, and if she told Wylan that no one visited but to take advantage and she assumed he was here for the same reason, he would say it wasn’t the case. But he just responds to the immediate statement.

There are a lot of examples of this.

3 — 0% perception, 100% creativity

Wylan can identify things that don’t make sense or that he doesn’t understand, but at the beginning of the series he can’t make leaps, only ask questions. On the Ferolind, he wonders about the source of water at the Ice Court; though Kaz doesn’t say as much, he was clearly wondering, too, because he eventually figured out the underground river. There’s an interesting parallel here where, in the beginning of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan asks a question about how they’ll break into Smeet’s and Kaz tells him to use his eyes instead of running his mouth—at which point Wylan is able to figure it out. I don’t think this is because he never tried before, though, but because no one ever bothered to teach him. Kaz can be harsh but he gives harsh corrections rather than harsh rejections and Wylan learns from him.

It’s hard to understand the world for people with autism. The world is designed and run by and for people whose minds are fundamentally different from ours, whose thoughts and experiences are unlike ours. Imagine trying to learn English or Spanish or Mandarin or any other spoken language if your first language was olfactory. That’s sort of what it’s like for someone with autism to just get dropped into the world and expected to figure this out.

This can be attributed to Wylan’s upbringing, but I disagree with that because none of the others were brought up in the Barrel, either, and Wylan doesn’t understand trade or politics with any special skill. Kaz wasn’t born in the Barrel, but he managed to go from “stealing is wrong” to “wrong isn’t my concern” real quick; Colm Fahey didn’t raise his son on gambling and firefights; the Ghafas never expected their daughter to be away from the family. Only Nina has relevant training—and even that’s precious little, she left school way too early. The others figured it out; Wylan needed a bit more help. He also seems surprised by the way his father conducts business. Wylan takes things on face value—like the time he’s surprised someone would do something, simply because it’s unlawful. This is something he expresses to a group of gangsters. He’s never been taught the way of any world and these things are not intuitive to him.

But Wylan isn’t stupid.

He doesn’t know how to understand the world, but he does understand how things go together. Given a pointy diamond, a handle, and a screw, he cut through Grisha glass. He carries flashbangs and magic napalm, he recreates military hardware—Wylan understands how to make things interact for a specific result. But to me the most telling thing isn’t just that he puts together chemical pieces, it’s that he figured out Jesper controlled bullets. He saw the pieces and put them together.

Wylan can understand when things don’t make sense, but he can’t make sense of them—yet when he understands things at their basic level, he understands them without preconception, for what they are. This is a very autistic way of thinking about things, it goes back to the literalism. He can’t make the leaps of logic other people can, but he also doesn’t make the assumptions they do—“I’ve never heard of a bullet Grisha, so that’s not a thing” vs “Well Jesper’s an almost impossibly good shot and he controls metal and bullets are metal, so why not?”

4 - Broken brain/body connection

Wylan’s great at chemistry and drawing and playing flute or piano—but he’s something of a disaster other times. This is in particular contrast to the other characters, all of whom are physically adept. Meanwhile it’s a challenge for Wylan to climb a rope ladder and he spends a full paragraph trying to figure out what to do with his hands. It’s easy to say, well, he’s used to a sedentary lifestyle, but at this point he’s not. He’s worked in the tannery for months. He’s just physically awkward.

I have less to say on this point only because it’s about something I don’t fully understand myself. I don’t really understand what it would be like to have a body that just… does things? Like normal stuff? Without tics and stims. No idea. Only that Wylan’s discomfort in and seeming lack of mastery of his own body feels very relatable to me.

5 - Abuse

One of the most familiar things about Wylan is how he has been so thoroughly abused and broken down that he’s afraid to do or say much of anything. Again, this is a place his background can be an obscuring factor. Of course Wylan didn’t think to blow up the walls when the first met the parem-juiced jurda and got trapped, he’s a spoiled rich kid! Except, he also startled when Jesper said his name later. Wylan didn’t hesitate because he was spoiled, he hesitated because he had no confidence.

He also thinks Kaz would laugh at him for playing music at his mother’s grave. Now, personally, I can’t see Kaz laughing at Wylan—being indifferent, thinking it’s pointless sentimentality, shaking his head, maybe commenting sharply that they need to go if they don’t have the time. But not laughing. Kaz is a snarky, sharp-edged jerk sometimes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to criticize, he just lets people know when they inconvenience him.

Wylan has been trained to identify attention as negative by an overbearing abusive father who literally saw him as less favorable than a demon. Now, that may have been hyperbole, but Jan criticized everything he could about Wylan—art, music, emotion—and made clear that he was worthless and competent to nothing. (Jan Van Eck can suck a rotten donkey dick but that’s neither here nor there.)

A lot of people with autism experience levels of bullying that have similar impacts. Or as the kids these days are calling it: we go to school. We go to school where we are weird. Where we look weird and move weird and talk about weird things and there’s a whole little bevy of asswipes to makes sure we know it. I got teased more for playing Pokemon and sitting alone reading than the kid who pissed himself onstage at assembly. (This was before Pokemon was cool. I’m old.) And that is not unusual for autistic kids. It’s also not unusual for this to be compounded by relatives or even parents who may be trying to help but don’t understand and can make things even harder.

So we can’t read social cues and we’re taught at a vicious age that everything that comes naturally to us is wrong. Imagine trying to interact in society with that background. There is no guide and most advice from neurotypical people isn’t actually what they mean. It breaks you down.

Wylan’s anxiety isn’t definitive of autism, but isn’t something that was incredibly familiar as someone whose neurodivergent experiences created a strong level of anxiety.

6 — High Compassion, Low Social Competence

Wylan isn’t very good at making friends. In fact, none of the Crows likes him much in the beginning, and only some of them soften toward him by the end. (Matthias and Nina come to respect his skills as a chemist but neither seems to particularly like him.) But you can see throughout the books that Wylan wants to connect with them and be one of them, he just… isn’t. He’s off-beat. He’s weird. He asks questions and mimics behaviors (trying to be cool and tough like Jesper, saying “mission” like Matthias does, imitating Kaz’s scheming face) but he doesn’t quite get how to adapt.

But he still cares about people. Not just them. Everyone. He cares about the people they leave in the ditch outside the prison wagon, he cares about Hanna Smeet, he cares about Alys. He cares about the people who’ll take a hit from Kaz’s sugar caper.

Wylan’s awkward social skills have undeniable big autism energy. I posit his compassion does as well. This is simply who Wylan is, and that means being someone who cares about everyone. I have nothing to back up that this is related to autism. I can say that it’s like me. (Not to brag.) I can’t turn off the part of my brain that says everyone matters. Individuals can opt out of that compassion, but they have it by default. There’s a certain agony in feeling a pull toward and love for just about everyone and yet an inability to develop meaningful connections with them, and that keen loneliness… it just burns.

Again, it’s not definitive of autism, but it’s very similar to an autistic experience.

I said in the beginning that I didn’t think Wylan certainly had autism and I stand by that, but he is a powerfully honest reflection of many people who do. So he can be understood to have autism, and that’s part of the reason some people have that headcanon.

[imagineyourworld]

Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Heart disease (Brugada syndrome) 

C. “Don’t cry, I’m alright.” 

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You’ve had a good feeling about this mission, you really did, but once the battle actually started there was this nagging voice inside your head telling you that something would go wrong. Of course you didn’t believe that voice, after all, what could possibly go wrong? It your battalion and the 501st against only a couple hundred droids, piece of cake.  “You doing alright?”, the familiar voice of your boyfriend, famed Jedi Anakin Skywalker, called out to you, pulling you out of your thoughts.  “Never better”, you replied with a grin only a second before you cut down the droid that was about to attack you.  Anakin made his way over to you, ripping through droids with his lightsaber as he went. His familiar force signature grew stronger with every step he took, instantly giving you new energy and motivation.  “I can see that”, he said with a matching grin on his face. “Care to make this a bit more interesting?”  You raised an eyebrow in question, your eyes only flitting over to your boyfriend for a split second before you focused on the incoming droids again.  “What did you have in mind?”  Anakin’s eyes were focused on you while he cut down a droid with a spin of his lightsaber at the same time. You rolled your eyes and grumbled about how much of a show off he could be.  “Let’s see who kills more droids, loser has to do the mission report.”  Though you weren’t sure whether it was a challenge you should agree to, since Anakin was undoubtedly the more skilled fighter simply due to his original, yet often reckless, tactics, you nodded.  “Just make me look good in your report”, you called over your shoulder before you turned away from him to join your commander in cutting the heads off a few droids. 

-------

Your first thought when you opened your eyes was that there was no way you could have died. It had been the easiest battle in your entire time as a Jedi, even counting the time before the war, you should have left the battlefield victorious. But the familiar presence next to you, which you could feel before you even opened your eyes, told a different story.  Slowly you blinked, trying to open your eyes despite the bright lights of the med bay, and turned your head to face your boyfriend on a chair next to your bed.  Anakin’s eyes were closed, he probably didn’t know you were awake, which gave you a moment to really look at him. He was pale, paler than you had ever seen him before, which made the scar across his eye stand out even more. Speaking of his eye, you could see a steady stream of tears escaping his closed eyelids. It was that realization that finally made you speak up.  “Ani, don’t cry, I’m alright”, you said, though your voice sounded a bit off and scratchy.  Instantly he opened his eyes and looked at you. First your face, then every inch of your body, as if to make sure that you really were fine. Just when you thought he’d believe you his eyes flitted over to the monitor on the other side of your bed, and the vitals on display there. You didn’t need to look to know that they weren’t in perfect condition.  “You’re not fine! Rex saw you fall in the middle of the battle, he carried you to the med bay, but Kix couldn’t find what’s wrong with you. You weren’t hit, you should be fine, but... Damn it, what the hell happened out there?”  You bit your lip, nerves taking over your body, which Anakin could probably see in both the tension of your muscles and on the monitor screen. Apparently now was the moment of truth.  “I... I really am fine, I promise. But I have a... condition... It’s called brugada syndrome, I was diagnosed years ago.”  Before Anakin could say anything a new voice interrupted your conversation.  “Why didn’t you tell anyone? That’s serious and at least I should have known”, Kix said as he began to remove the scanners from your finger and wrist.  You shrugged, not daring to meet either your boyfriend’s or the medic’s eyes. You probably should have told Kix, at least once you started to work with the 501st more often, but you had always reasoned that it wouldn’t be necessary since your own battalion’s medic already knew.  “Kix, can we have a moment alone?”, Anakin asked, his eyes never once leaving your face.  The medic nodded, closing the door behind him as he left the two of you alone in the otherwise empty med bay. Before Anakin said anything he ran his hand through your hair, a motion that was usually soothing, but this time around made you feel like a child.  “(Y/N), you know you can trust me, right?”  There was hurt and heartbreak in his voice. Of course you knew you could trust him, you did trust him, but this was something that you never wanted to talk about with Anakin, though now it seemed that conversation was inevitable.  “I trust you, Ani, more than you know. It’s just that... I never told you, never really told anyone other than my master and a few medics, because I, well I guess there are many reasons. I didn’t want to burden you, I didn’t want you to feel you’d have to take care of me, on the battlefield and off, I didn’t want to worry you or have you running around looking for a cure I know doesn’t exist, but mostly I think I just didn’t want you to look at me any different.”  Those were some of the hardest words you ever had to say, a confession you had only made in the dark of your room before, when no one could hear you.  Anakin’s expression changed, there was no longer a hint of hurt or betrayal, instead those emotions were replaced by love and pure awe.  “Did you really think I’d do that? Look at you different, think less of you? If anything I think you’re even stronger now, just because you have to live with this, but because you had to live with this alone, without telling anyone.”  You opened your mouth to protest, to tell him that a few selected people did know, but before you could say anything Anakin continued.  “But you were right about one thing, I’ll do everything in my power to find a cure. I watched my mother die and I couldn’t do anything about it, I can’t bear to lose you too. I love you, I love you so much and I wanna live the rest of my live, be it long or short, with you by my side.”  Now it was your turn to try to hide your tears. You should have told Anakin earlier, should have known that he would be by your side through better or worse.  “You know what might help?”, you asked, trying your best to repress a sly grin. Though it was kinda pointless, as always Anakin seemed to be reading your mind.  “A kiss?”  He didn’t wait for your answer before leaning down and connecting your lips in a soft kiss that spoke of love and trust and the future together you both couldn’t wait for. 

-------

I apologize that this was so short, but I hope you liked it anyways. I also hope I got the disease somewhat accurate and didn’t overstep any boundaries. 

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties - here is part 6! We are officially halfway through this fic! Part 6 sees friendships blossom, situationships struggle, and cheeky intercontinental facetime chats! I hope you all are enjoying it as much as i am! I love hearing from you after you've read it! Love always, Steph xx

Part 6 | parte sesta

warnings; a couple of tugs on the heartstrings (in both the best and worst ways)

word count; 2301

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Friday 06/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Amelia had been back in Turin for a week or so, settling back into her city apartment had been more difficult than she anticipated as she was now alone for the first time in more than 2.5 months. It wasn’t very often, but sometimes she did miss the companionship of having a boyfriend. She missed someone to have breakfast with, to watch movies under the covers, to bring to official events. She still did all of these things, with a date, that was a friend, that sometimes maybe crept beyond the friendship zone and into the we shouldn’t be doing this but it feels so good zone.

Fede was someone that hung around Amelia like a fly to sugar. She enjoyed the attention most of the time. She appreciated his friendship, wisdom, talent and intellect. He could hold a conversation, talk to her about the arts, sell her the dream. She even didn’t mind it when they did cross that line a few times. Long afternoons and even longer nights spent wrapped up together in his bed sheets, her bathtub, his kitchen, her lounge room...you get the point. It was almost as though the two were in a committed relationship - committed being the operable word.

Fede wanted Amelia all to himself, and she was just that - available to him and for him whenever he wished, which was often. That’s what confused Amelia most, he didn’t want to label their situationship. He was happy to be ‘friends’ outside the four walls of their respective homes, but lovers when the curtains were drawn. She would maybe understand if he was elusive, always going out and on his phone but he wasn’t. He spent all of his time with her, there wouldn't have been enough hours left in the day if he separated those he spent with her from those he spent alone.

The Juventus players noticed this behaviour early on, seeing a noticeable difference in the way their number 33 paid attention to their tactical sessions. How he was turning up to the training centre early, with an extra piccolo for the english member of their coaching staff. Federico claimed he was helping Amelia brush up on her Italian, but having an Italian-born mother who insisted on sharing her culture with her kids, meant she was pretty much fluent in the language before arriving in Turin. His teammates weren’t stupid and neither was she.

This was the one area of her life where Amelia felt comfortable to go with the flow, she didn’t need to prepare or overthink anything to do with the charming Italian boy from Firenze. She let him take it at his own pace, she was in no need to rush. She let him take her home to meet his Nonna, she spent quality alone time with his dogs when he’s running late from training, and that’s a rare occasion being that it’s normally her there after him and he hangs back to drive them both home.

Everything was progressing at his pace, and the moment Amelia just asks for some clarification on the situation, he would get visibly stressed. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. And for a long time he could, he had Amelia's attention and affection at Juve, he even had it during their european campaign. At the end of the tournament, when they all broke up for their summer breaks, Fede conveniently waited until their final round in the shower, if you know what i mean, before pulling her into bed and having a heart to heart with her.

Amelia thought that she was finally getting the clarification that she was after, which in a way she did. Fede spoke whimsical words about how she makes him feel wanted and understood, and in turn he told her about the affects he knew he had on her. It was a conversation that would turn Shakespeare to a pile of rose petals. In the end, he told her that he wanted to continue what they had just how they had been doing it. And so, that's exactly how they left it. No labels. Friends outside of the four walls of their apartments. That was all Amelia needed to be able to enjoy her family holiday in Mykonos, guilt free, not missing the man that became the equivalent of her shadow.

The constant company she had in Mykonos compared to what she was experiencing in Turin made her more eager to return to work than she had previously. Of course, there are group chats and facetimes and phone calls throughout the days that kept her occupied, but she was missing the boys and her brother. Her friendship with Kyle was back to its old ways, memes being shared across the european continent, long phone calls to talk about their problems. Kyle knew all about the Fede x Amelia situation, Amelia having given him the sparknotes version over a wine filled zoom session one evening that same week. Their pre-seasons hadn’t gone back yet so they were able to indulge in a bit of vino, guilt free.

She was surprised about the constant contact, or lack thereof, that some of the boys had maintained with her. Ben Chilwell hadn’t once messaged or instagrammed the girl, despite being active in their group chats and liking her holiday pictures on instagram. He even made the rookie error of liking a picture so far down on her instagram, there was no way to explain his need for being there. She messaged him a couple times, assuming he just got busy with whatever he was doing, but there was radio silence on the other end.

A friendship she was surprised had blossomed so well, considering their flirtatious start to life, was with that of Jack Grealish and Tyrone Mings. There had been more facetimes than she could count between herself and the two villa boys. Whether it was Tyrone telling her about a book he had finished that he thought she would enjoy, or Jack asking her how to cook dinner, maybe even them both cooking dinner together - of course she had to have a later dinner to be able to do so, with the time difference and all...and there was no way Jack was going to be having dinner an hour early “athlete’s schedule an all tha ya’know” he would smirk down the camera, brummie accent on full display.

She met Tyrone through Jack, he facetimed the girl for outfit advice one night before going out with the tall defender and the pair hit it off. Both giving Jack the fashion advice he needed but didn’t want to hear (a Gucci two piece tracksuit set is never the answer). Tyrone immediately noticed a certain attention to detail being applied by his fellow number 10, to the tactics that were being put forward by the girl that was far too good at her job. His training was improving, his set pieces having a certain amount of flare. There was also a lack of attention being paid from Jack to other girls. Instead, much preferring to spend the evening at home watching the same netflix series as Amelia so that he could discuss it with her the next day, or better yet, at the same time.

As pre-season had commenced, Amelia had been applying the same tactics that she developed (and that obviously worked) throughout the European campaign to her Juventus club level. Having faith in the four men that were with her and the Azzurri to ensure that their other teammates were completing them accurately. It appears that her skill was widely recognised, having a few missed calls and voice messages left from English telephone numbers that she was yet to listen to. In all seriousness, she was nervous to listen to them. Worried that they would make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. A wise person once told her that you shouldn’t make any decisions whilst you're at the top of your happy, or the bottom of your sad. You should make important decisions when your life is at its constant. It's very easy to accept things that you wouldn’t normally when you're at the peak of your mood, just as easy as it is to forget the bigger picture when you're down. Who knew Kyle Walker was so wise.

“So, i’ve got a bit of a dilemma” She spoke down to her facetime camera one evening in early August.

“Hit me with it darlin’” Jack spoke back to her, getting his dinner utensils out so that they could cook together again. He didn’t like not being prepared for her tutorial, he got stressed if she added pepper and his pepper was still in his pantry. Each afternoon, when it was agreed upon what they would be cooking together that evening, she sent him a list of what he would need out on his bench to complete the meal.

“I’ve missed a few calls from English teleco numbers this last week or so”

“Ok? Do you think they’re scams? You’re beautiful Amelia but I don't think it's actually an Egyptian prince on the other end that wants to offer you 250k in exchange for your paypal info…”

“Ha ha very funny - that was one time ok and he wasn’t a Prince, he was claiming to be an investment banker and wanted to help me start up my portfolio-ANYWAY JACK I WAS 16! God just forget I even told you that story” Amelia barked down facetime, now pausing what she was doing to point at the British boy with her wooden spoon, the same way her mother would to her when she was being cheeky. All she was met with was boisterous laughter.

“Nah i’m only joking, continue with your story.”

“I began to listen to the start of one and it was a talent acquisition manager for one of the premier league clubs, offering me a job” Amelia said as she continued to stir her pasta. Tonight they were making penne arrabiata. She received no reply from the boy. Looking down to her camera to check the call was still active, she saw him looking at the camera with a serious expression.

“Are you going to tell me what the problem is before I start to get excited that you’re going to be living within driving distance from me? Oh god i’ve just realised - was it from Villa? You could be even closer than I imagined” Jack started to ramble, getting over excited with the prospect of being so close to the girl that he could physically hang out with her, instead of virtually.

“Jack calm down, I didn't listen long enough to find out what club he was from. I have 5 more just like it waiting in my inbox.”

“What's the problem then Mils?” Jack could see the girl had apprehension written all over her face.

“I’m just nervous that they're going to tell me everything I've always wanted to hear. That they’re going to make me an offer I can't refuse and I have to leave my life here.” Their pasta was ready to be dished up now, so the girl poured herself a glass of red wine and got herself comfy on her couch.

“Come on, play the messages and i’ll listen to them with you, be your voice of reason,” Jack offered the girl.

“I should probably call Tyrone, you’re just going to reject every club that isn’t Villa.” she laughed before switching facetime to her laptop, moving to the floor of her lounge room and resting her elbows on her coffee table. With the phone near the screen of her mac, she began to play the messages.

_____________________________________________________________

“Hi Amelia, Shaun here from Newcastle United-” “As if you’d waste your talents at Newcastle”

“Jack! That's horrible! At least i know i already look good in the black and white striped kit”

“No, not happening. Next”

“Amelia, Hope you don’t mind but I got your number off of one of my players who knows you. Long story short, we have a position here are Arsenal” “Bloody Bukayo, needs to keep his silky mitts off ya”

“Jack, give it a rest or i’m calling Tyrone”

“Amelia White, Greg here from Aston Villa Football Club” “Get in Greggles!! That's it, stop listening, you’re taking this one”

“I need to listen to them all Jack”

“So, you’ll consider Villa?”

“I’ll consider all of them”

“You’d really go to Arsenal? Aren’t you a Spurs supporter? Shocking stuff”

“Ok maybe not all of them”

“Ciao Amelia, Mario here from Chelsea Football Club - I’ve heard nothing but good things about you. We could really use you here at Chelsea next season. Give me a call when you get a spare moment to discuss the opportunity”

“What? Nothing to say to this one, Jack?”

“Nah, sounds ok. You deserve to showcase your skills at a big club like Chelsea. And besides, you’ll have Jorginho there to look after you. Come on, next one”

“It’s the last one actually”

“Amelia, we’ve got a fantastic opportunity here at Manchester City for someone with your skill set. It would be a massive advantage to have your tactical insight to the game coupled alongside the fantastic leadership we’ve already got at the club”. “Holy shit, Pep called you himself? Kyle Walker really knows how to pull strings when he wants something”

“I am overwhelmed”

“Hey, you don’t need to make any decisions right now. Sleep on it, talk it over with your family. Speak to Jorgi, I know you’re close with him. And just let me know when you decide to pick Villa so i can start house huntin’ for ya”

“Night Jack, speak soon”

“Sleep tight darlin’, speak to ya tomorrow”

Part 7. | settima parte

[ugh-againwiththenames]

So Many Fanfics So Little Time

This is just my list, I have seen so many (but if you want to use it it’s all yours too!).  I’m not a writer.  But I am a hell of a reader. Voracious one might argue. I just wanted to track my progress through the weeds of the absolutely never ending supply of Destiel and Cockles fanfic. 

Read on if you want to see what I’ve read, and what I’ve thought. I am but one person with opinions - some of them may be unpopular - some of them you might agree with, but if you find something you haven’t read here, I encourage you to do so. 

Honestly, this is just so I can track what I have read already, and when my friends ask, I can reference something easily. I have found some different fics on all kinds of ‘best of’ lists all over the interwebs. And I love recs - so rec away friends. 

As someone who reads a solid 40 novels a year typically, I don’t come by the “I read a lot” innocently. I do actually read a LOT.  When not reading fanfic (a new obsession, all things being fair), I usually read a lot of Fantasy/high fantasy, romance/erotica, and or YA (yeah, that was a bit of a ride no?).  So from this one might digress that I like fluffy, cute stories, complicated and supernatural/paranormal type stories, and I sure do not shy away from violence or smut (or maybe violence with smut? *smirk*). 

I have read all of these in the last 2-3 months (I will continue to add as I go). I had never read a fanfic until 2-3 months ago.  A lot of these wonderful people are on here, and I mean you no offence by not directly tagging you - I’m still learning how to actually properly use this site. Links to AO3 are included (and I love you all). 

These aren’t necessarily in any real order - I did read T&S first, followed by 91W, and 4LW...after that it’s just a shit show of Long or Short, Destiel or Cockles - smorgasbord. Some of these are the most popular Fics out there, and others I’ve never seen recc’d anywhere (just sort of accidentally happened upon them).  So let’s get to it, shall we? 

Twist and Shout - ok look. I understand the stigma associated with this one, but it was the FIRST one I read. It was the ball that shot me down the hill, and I haven’t stopped since. So. I loved it. I CRIED like a baby. SOBBED. It was not the quality of the writing but the way the story was developed and delivered. I have Never Cried Like This Reading a Story IN MY LIFE. It’s a rite of passage. Read It and have an opinion - it doesn’t need to be mine.  

Author(s): gabriel, standbyme   https://archiveofourown.org/works/537876/chapters/955188

Ninety-One Whiskey - aka 91W, it is mentioned so much, and is SO worth the read.  I continued my dive into the war fics (not typically my bag really and here I was reading 2 in a row).  There are a couple of followup stories as well to this series (and yes, I’ve read them all).  Although I’ll say that the original is my favourite. I often got lost in a bit of the War/Tactical descriptions, but would recommend it to anyone anyway. Ugh...the “stolen moments”...they were at the same time tragic and the most amazing things ever.  You feel me? no? go read it. 

Author:  komodobits   https://archiveofourown.org/works/2362190/chapters/5214500

Four Letter Word for Intercourse - aka 4LW.  OMG just, OMG. I loved this story. I loved it so much. I think I read it in a day.  Devoured it. It’s so HOT. Just read it. If you haven’t you’re missing out.  LEMME AT IT. I loved “knowing the secret”, and had some major anxiety about that realization dawning (I had to take a breath, and be like, no, no, this is gonna be a mess, but it’s gonna be SO GOOD - I was not disappointed).  There’s more than one work here too - read them all. PLEASE. 

Author: bendingsignpost  https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086839/chapters/37568591

Memories Bring Back Memories (Bring Back You) - This was the first Sobs one I read, but it sent me on a spree.  this is the Memory Loss one.  I have one piece of advice here - read everything by Sobsicles. You can thank me later...just go to her page, and fucking sort to supernatural (or not, read it all!) I’d list them but I’d fucking seriously be here all day.  Also, her tags make me laugh so hard.

Author:  sobsicles https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Orpheus - I love this one too, Tattooed!Cas, my LOVE. paired with Mechanic!Dean, my HEART, #help.  Read this one in one evening as well. (I was on a roll).  It’s a one night stand that turns into more (much like my last relationship)....hmm...maybe this is why I was pulled in - although to be fair that is the last similarity to my shitty love life! I do not remember how I stumbled onto this one (tattooed Cas may have been the draw...tbh). Read the warnings though, there is some triggering stuff in this one - but if you can handle it, it’s definitely worth the read. 

Author: sysrae       https://archiveofourown.org/works/2364347/chapters/5220227

Have Love, Will Travel - Can you say no to Stripper!Dean? Cause I sure as hell cannot. Typical sort of character development here with Dean having trust issues, and Cas being painfully awkward...(but in like a super cute way?).  Would Recommend. 

Author: squeemonster   https://archiveofourown.org/works/565455/chapters/1011747

The Inexhaustible Silence of Houses - Change of pace here...It’s got a nice twist.  I didn’t actually clue into how it was going to end until very near the end (maybe I was being oblivious), when the realization came over me and I was...man. I was DONE IN.  I hope that doesn’t spoil (I need some kind of way of remembering them). Voiceless!Cas Hunter!Dean

Author: Askance (doomcountry)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/560268/chapters/1000755

Adagio - This is super short, and super cute. Honestly, I would read the whole thing just for the last line. It’ll take you less than an hour if I remember correctly. Go, I’ll wait. I squeeed. did you? 

Author: noangelsinthegarrison   https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397248/chapters/2928145

Any Little Heartache - super easy read (not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’ll fly through it’ way).  It’s mid-length, not graphic, but really fun hospital AU. HeartSurgeon!Dean / Nurse!Cas - enemies to lovers anyone? Fuck you to Fuck me? yeah. YUM. 

Author: followthattardis https://archiveofourown.org/works/5143376/chapters/11838311

Ad Astra - This is another short(ish) one, just one chapter.  And by that I mean that this is written like a very long poem. Cas as a star who has visited Dean many times over the years of his life, that culminates in 4x01 barn scene. It’s ‘awe’ sad. ‘puppy dog eyes’ sad. The writing format took me a bit to understand what was happening - it’s my lack of poetry knowledge, not the writing.  

Author: nhixxie https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013491

Ad Astra Per Aspera - This is a cute story.  ESL writer, no judgement.  I found this while looking for the one above, and thought the premise looked cute - and it was. Misunderstanding leading to Dean realizing he’s actually Bi.  Miscommunication leading to realization.  

Author: Riverchester https://archiveofourown.org/works/12354336/chapters/28101816

Psalm 40:2 - Time travel post-canon Cas and Pre-series Dean.  If you’re wondering how that works, strap in for this ride, it’s well worth it. 

Author: unicornpoe https://archiveofourown.org/works/30786425/chapters/75992444

Addicted to You - Warlock!Dean/Incubus!Cas - accidental ‘mating’ (I actually really don’t like that word, but there’s sort of no avoiding it in this situation). Cute story.  When you drunk dial a succubus and get an incubus instead...Whatever will we do? 

Author: Ltleflrt https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387346/chapters/9959288 

A Glimpse Beyond - End Fix-it. Not yet complete, 10 chapters so far...I want MORE! Reliving memories Dean/Cas & Sam/Eileen.   

Author: NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731689/chapters/67875925

Cas-ti-el - Please I want more...It’s like the story just started. Please write more of this story!! 1 chapter, it’s a trope prompt challenge, but I want it to be a full on story of its own. Imprinted names of their soul mates, Dean doesn’t understand his (because it’s in a different language)...I’m frustrated by wanting this story to keep going. 

Author:  Valinde (Valyria)  https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941591

Our Bodies, Posessed by Light - another short one. Not going to lie, this one took a little getting used to, and I can’t say that I enjoyed it too much for the sole purpose that the premise gave me the willies.  Cas has to vessel jump - ends up in Sam...I got through it, it had a good ending, but yeah, sorry. This just wasn’t for me. 

Author:  obstinatrix  https://archiveofourown.org/works/260289

Peanut Butter Pumpkin Wedding Cake - Waiter!Dean / Writer!Cas - This is so effing cute, just misunderstanding after misunderstanding bumbling around like the couple of dorks that they are. It’s only one chapter. 100% would recommend. 

Author:  Sparseparsley https://archiveofourown.org/works/223962

Destiel, Actually - This is another super cute story, 5 chapters. Gabriel playing a singular role in putting Dean and Cas in awkward positions to push them together.  I fucking DIED at “oh, I am the sub” - needs context, but I guarantee you that you’ll laugh out loud...

Author:  Bexism  https://archiveofourown.org/works/399934/chapters/658398

The Smell Before the Rain - This was my first A/B/O - a big apology to all those who are into mpreg and whatnot, this was my lesson that I am not. this was not for me. Also - I’m a firm Cas (Alpha/Dom) believer, and i’m good with switch Cas, but it’s hard for me to take him being the full Omega here, when paired with the rest I just couldn’t do it. I finished it, but, not my thing. I know now. 

Author: jscribbles https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355230/chapters/53406127

Crazy Diamonds - This is another short one, only 3 chapters - it’s a body swap for Dean, 4x02 him and 2018 him swap places (assumption that 2018 him is “with” Cas).  It’s a super cute little story. 

Author:  pantheon_of_discord https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151642/chapters/37738631

The Breath of All Things - Wheelchair!Dean / Volunteer!Cas.  This is a lovely story, typical Dean self-hatred etc. Triggering for those with suicide warnings. It had me in tears at the end. There’s a really spectacular quote near the end that I found so romantic I screen grabbed it. 

Author:  KismetJeska https://archiveofourown.org/works/994750/chapters/1967519

Kind of a Forever Deal - SummerCamp!AU This is just a really cute and fluffy summer camp AU.  Which is so different from 91W (That’s right, check the author)! I was a little disappointed with the ending, but otherwise really enjoyed this all the way through and was loving all the discovery and young characterizations of all the characters. 

Author: komodobits https://archiveofourown.org/works/999291/chapters/1978478

Everytown, USA - Best way I can break this one down? Wanderer!Dean (listless and without a place in the world, he ends up in a small town...), Twin!Cas (that leads to some fun things). There are a number of points where you’re gonna yell at Dean for doing stupid shit (that are very much in character for him to do), you think, well, yes, obviously you’re going to do that you silly fucking boy [affectionate]; but whyyy? (but we know). 

Author: aileenrose https://archiveofourown.org/works/1797559/chapters/3854836

Chalk and Chainmail - HighSchool!AU, Cas is an artist, Dean LARP’s - it’s cute and angsty. 

Author:  lemonsorbae https://archiveofourown.org/works/804704/chapters/1517551

A Little Patience - Ok. you want smut? This is your story. You want Kink? This is your story.  I actually did not finish this. It got a little carried away in my opinion. It was VERY panty kink oriented (which, while essentially canon isn’t really my kink) so, if you want that Panty Kink on full display? Go forth and enjoy! it  is thirty something chapters, I got to the mid-twenties I Think. 

Author: riseofthefallenone https://archiveofourown.org/works/1750058/chapters/3739232

Control - I REALLY ENJOYED THIS. Which is saying a lot for someone who has already admitted that a Subby Cas isn’t really my HC - so to so thoroughly enjoy a Sub!Cas story? (maybe it’s the tattooes...*wink*). It’s an AU where Cas is the head of a company - Dean is a callboy I guess, for lack of a better term. Just read it.

Author: dothraki_shieldmaiden  https://archiveofourown.org/works/31156601/chapters/76993217

More (I copy pasted the next lot from my google doc, I’ll flush them out later - no i wont...)

Teach Me (short) - movie night in the bunker, things get a little carried away   Author:  Chiyume  https://archiveofourown.org/works/5961327

You Light the Spark (in my bonfire heart) (short) - when cas doesn't realize that dean is unaware of his feelings, super short, super cute                      Author: noangelsinthegarrison https://archiveofourown.org/works/1193910 

Communication Breakdown (short/cockles) - dean ends up in Jensen's head while he films the confession scene, no sexual content Author: jujubiest   https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Look What You Made Me Do (short/cockles) -      -  Vegas Con 2020 / jensen comes out with a song     - cute short - no sexual content Author:  green_blue_heller https://archiveofourown.org/works/30251592 Full House (short/cockles) - reimagined version of the rented house story - putting it in order (so to speak). funny / cute / fluffy not explicit   Author: n_nami  https://archiveofourown.org/works/30855827

Cyber Sex (short/cockles) - anastiel https://archiveofourown.org/works/31467086      - shameless post GISH Fest zoom call porn      - Short (very short)

It's Complicated (cockles) - gail_morgan https://archiveofourown.org/works/31434938/chapters/77747519       The GISHtake (short/cockles) - MellyCrazyCoconut https://archiveofourown.org/works/31508099     - cute short post GISH zoom     - oops "babe, really?"  

(10.02.2021 updated) Since last update: New reads - Fuck i’m gonna be here all day - there’s not gonna be as much gonna be NO detail in these breakdowns...sorry! This has now just become a “what i’ve read list” as opposed to a Rec list...

Love, All Alike (Pt. 1 Love, All Alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves   https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555599/chapters/10370646                             - Though The Stars Walk Backward (pt 2 Love, All alike) - Phantoms_and_Foxgloves

And this, your living kiss - opal_bullets   https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083927/chapters/42744872

Come On, Let's Strike a Match (Domination and Submission: a love story pt 1) - anyrei & queerwerewolf ***   https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722478/chapters/62458810    - Playing With Fire (D&S: a love story pt 2)    - We Kiss and the Flames Get Higher (D&S: a love story pt 3)     - Sparking That Old Flame (D&S: a love story pt 4) 

Cinderwings - bendingsignpost Cinderella!AU**   https://archiveofourown.org/works/12847041/chapters/29336421

Linden - fleeceframe Swan!AU**   https://archiveofourown.org/works/33126730/chapters/82236118

No Netflix, No Chill (short) - dorian_they   https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764966

Can't Drink You Away (short) - dorian_they   https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785792 

Jensen Totally (Does Not!) Snore (short RPF) - Dorian_they   https://archiveofourown.org/works/30315717

Dean Ships It (short) - dorian_they   https://archiveofourown.org/works/30349434

All about control - wingless   https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151930/chapters/20791243

Aesthetics in Autoerotica (pt 1 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant   https://archiveofourown.org/works/3885544                                                             - The Ties that Bind (pt 2 Aesthetics in Autoerotica) - relucant

Let's take a drive - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32581027/chapters/80819581 

Enchanted ink - castielslostwings TattooArtist!Dean TattooArtist!Castiel AU ***   https://archiveofourown.org/works/23043622/chapters/55109530

The bones beneath our skin - darknessbound   https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633754/chapters/59515804

The Plot (RPF) - Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me   https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795588/chapters/6274970

The Gentle Force with which you Take Me (RPF) - Phoenix_Ascended   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32110120/chapters/79549183

According to all known laws of Life (Pt. 1 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/29207901                                                          - and he's back (with a mind of his own) (pt. 2 Cursed Metaphors) - sobsicles

Six hundred sundays (and many more) - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/31158776

Aching in the Absence of you - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/31832977/chapters/78811378

gorging myself on you, still can’t get full (insatiable) (Short) - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32203291

memories bring back memories (bring back you) - sobsicles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022945/chapters/57796885

Dream Come True (short) - bendingsignpost   https://archiveofourown.org/works/28071159

tall grass - aeli_kindara   https://archiveofourown.org/works/13127040/chapters/30030726

asunder (Short) - rageprufrock https://archiveofourown.org/works/62115

Apheresis - bendingsignpost BloodDonor!AU **   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32674783/chapters/81056680

we always were but never knew it - frightfullyrude   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32698324/chapters/81119503

In this Louisiana Bar (Short) - fleeceframe   https://archiveofourown.org/works/31764487

The Hitchhiker's Guide to Alternate Universes - n_nami   https://archiveofourown.org/works/32687929/chapters/81092785

my heart a compass - lagaudiere https://archiveofourown.org/works/28629951

Unsound Inverses - sp8ce (not complete)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/29836881/chapters/73413300

The Jensen Mistake (RPFish) - fellshish   https://archiveofourown.org/works/31950169

tell me about the dream (Pt. 1 Kids are coming home) - playedwright   https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984813/chapters/68544450

It's handy to know (FIMMF Themed ;)) - RosaMarloes   https://archiveofourown.org/works/31761322

So Says The Sword - komodobits AngelTrueform!AU**   https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597892/chapters/28695592

Communication Breakdown (RPFish)- darkshrimpemotions (jujubiest)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669601/chapters/72951339

Carry You Home - Casloveshisfreckles   https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982637/chapters/65862916

In the Shadow of your Wings - Enochian Things (Salr323)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/7531294/chapters/17121655

When Harry Met Sally (RPF) (Pt. 1 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood   https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622347/chapters/17351845    - Eight Dildos (RPF) (Pt. 2 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood    - Attention, Please (RPF) (Pt. 3 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood             - Boat Trip (RPF) (Pt. 4 When Harry Met Sally ‘verse) - mnwood

A Winter's Tale - NorthernSparrow   https://archiveofourown.org/works/2654327/chapters/5930561

A Close Shave - NorthernSparrow https://archiveofourown.org/works/3090167

r/supernatural - renrub (short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626783

sam reads destiel fics - rebshome (short - funny!)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/33721624

Angel Cookies - noxsoulmate Chirstmas!AU **  https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729640/chapters/26427765

Under The Midnight Sun - NorthernSparrow Arctic!AU **   https://archiveofourown.org/works/16690645/chapters/39143677

Bron-Yr-Aur - mrbluesky (Short) https://archiveofourown.org/works/28225335

The Dean Winchester Beat Sheet - saltyfeathers   https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258594/chapters/45800209

The Meaning On My Skin - saltnhalo   https://archiveofourown.org/works/18005378/chapters/42538133

Red Right Hand (Pt. 1 Murder Ballads)  - Duckyboos   https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306110/chapters/9760008    - Are you the One that I've been waiting for? (pt. 2 Murder Ballads) - Duckyboos   

Riptides - sharkfish   https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230426/chapters/30263556

Damn Fine Ride - Cimorene105 (pt 1 - rodeo) Cowboy!AU** (I’m a horse girl, sue me...)  https://archiveofourown.org/works/14342340    - My Face Just Does This, Sometimes - Cimorene105 (pt. 2 rodeo)    - The Kinkiest Thing I've Ever Done- Cimorene105 (pt 3 rodeo)    - All Signs Point to Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 4 rodeo)    - Monster Love - Cimorene105 (pt. 5 rodeo)    - My Man, The Siren - Cimorene105 (pt. 6 rodeo)    - A Pain in My Ass - Cimorene105 (pt. 7 rodeo)

Astrolabe (terra incognita pt 1) - reluctantabandon, Winter_of_our_Discontent   https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348812/chapters/7326794    - Drollery (terra incognita pt 2) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent    - Rubrication (terra incognita pt 3) - reluctantabandon Winter_of_our_Discontent

Go Down With This Ship - PorcupineGirl   https://archiveofourown.org/works/8023642/chapters/18370474

Fire and Ice - Castielslostwings (Firefighter/Paramedic AU!) **   https://archiveofourown.org/works/23286295/chapters/55768486

The Structural Similarities of Hunters and Onions - Faster_Than_the_Speed_of_Sound (Short)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/33383101

Castiel Novak's Office, This is Dean - emmbrancsxx0   https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411336/chapters/53545840

Out of the Deep (out of the deep pt. 1) - riseofthefallenone - MERMAID AU! **   https://archiveofourown.org/works/548878/chapters/977676

Dean (and Cas') Top 13 Zepp Traxx - pantheon_of_discord   https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909440/chapters/24256989

I'll Be Good - LittleAngelCassie   https://archiveofourown.org/works/4118334/chapters/9282234

Kenosis - CastielsCarma (Short - part of Destiel ABC collection)   https://archiveofourown.org/works/30411720

[monocaelia]

realizing they’re in love headcanons [childe, diluc, kaeya, zhongli]

warnings: slight spoiler for the geo archon quest (though i feel like now it’s pretty obvious but like... just in case)

childe

childe, to me, is someone who is attracted to someone who is not only strong physically and can take him in a fight or sparring session, but also to someone who can surprise him and keep him on his toes

he finds excitement in not knowing what to expect from another person and would get bored easily if that weren’t the case

he’d fall in love with you the moment you’d finally pin him down during a sparring session

the two of you had been sparring with one another for a while as a way to train the both of you to become stronger fighters (and also to get closer to each other subconsciously)

for the longest time, you’ve never been able to defeat him. he’d always pin you down or be the last one standing at the end of your sparring sessions and honestly? it pissed you off that you couldn’t do anything to one-up him

childe thought that you would give up the first couple of times, but to his surprise you always came back for more and he found that amusing. you? little you trying to pin down childe, also known as tartaglia no. 11 of the eleven harbingers? how cute

he found your frustrated face, all scratched up and scuffed up from your earlier sparring session, adorable and funny at the same time. he couldn’t help smiling after each session and laughing to himself when you never accepted the hand he offered to help you up and then watching you stumble

you were so stubborn, it was so cute

but the day you finally outsmarted him and pulled him underneath him would be the day he realizes that maybe... maybe there’s something about you that makes his heart race

perhaps it was the way you grinned above him, or the way your hands had his wrists pinned up above him. maybe it was the way you leaned close to his face to brag, noses nearly brushing against each other and your grin turning into a smirk. regardless, you’ve got both his body and his heart pinned underneath you. not like he’d ever complain about that

diluc

personally, someone who is kind and patient yet brutally honest would be a perfect match for diluc

he’s not really one for someone who beats around the bush, but it takes a while for him to fully open up about his past or whatever is bothering him. he’s a secretive man but only because he’s someone with a heavy history and doesn’t really like to talk about it

diluc would realize you’re the one for him after one of his duties as the darknight hero

he would come home injured after a serious scuffle with a couple of abyss mages that were lurking outside of mondstadt. normally they would’ve been a piece of cake for someone like him, but they had caught him off guard

you and he were friends, and you always offered him a place to stay if his duties as mondstadt’s darknight hero ran way too late in the night and he didn’t have the energy to get back to the winery

and boy were you surprised to see the bloodied and bruised man in front of you

you scolded him harshly, telling him how reckless he was and how he nearly scared you to death by showing up at your door like he was the one at death’s door. your hands worked quickly to clean up his wounds and make sure they were all bandaged properly

something about the way you nagging him and slapping his arm (lightly) as a punishment every now and then made his heart swell and he would’ve laughed if he could. despite your frazzled appearance, he found you ethereal in the warm glow of the lantern in your room

he gently grabbed your hand and called your name, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles as an apology for his actions and worrying you

he’ll keep your scoldings in the back of his head the next time he went off to do his darknight duties. he wouldn’t want to worry you even more, now would he?

kaeya

kaeya would be attracted to someone who could keep up with his flirty and witty remarks. he finds someone who can do that extremely fun to be around

though, someone who could catch on to his manipulative tactics and lies would also catch his eyes (or rather... eye)

kaeya fell in love with you in a peculiar circumstance, one that no one would’ve expected to happen

everyone either hated kaeya, as they should considering he was mischievous and had connections to the bandits and criminals that lurked outside of mondstadt and overall had a pretty suspicious nature about him, or they feared him and what he could do to them

and yet, you looked past all of that and remained friends and close to him.

kaeya was surprised, not being used to being treated so kindly even though he was known for lying and causing unnecessary problems. you would look past that despite the charming words he threw your way and his warnings of how he could hurt you

“you wouldn’t do that though, would you?” you told him, throwing him off guard. “even if you could, you wouldn’t. you’re a lot nicer than people give you credit for.”

he laughed, not expecting you to say that of all things about him. he hummed and brought a finger to lift your chin up to look at him

so innocent... so cute. there was something about the way you defended him and weren’t fazed by his flirty words and unfavorable reputation that made him enamored with you

he wouldn’t necessarily call it love just yet, but he sure was interested in what more you had to offer him

zhongli

as stated many times, zhongli is a traditional man and someone who shares his traditional views and way of life would be an obvious fit for him

but i also feel like someone who is just so... open about what they feel and their emotions is someone who will grab his interest and keep him enamoured 

zhongli would fall in love with you when you’ve stopped to appreciate the view and reminisce about simpler times

zhongli wasn’t someone who knew human emotions and a human’s way of life; he was an archon and lived for thousands of years. being human or paying attention to mortals hasn’t necessarily been on his to-do list for a while now

but he’s entranced by how beautiful you look as you gaze out at the beautiful, flowering fields that surround qingyun peak. you looked so peaceful and at ease from where you are, but the faint sadness in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by the archon

he found you absolutely stunning with the wind blowing through your hair and the somber expression on your face. he wanted to know what you’re thinking about, what was causing you to feel such emotions when you thought back on it

his heart lurched when a tear falls down the side of your cheek. before zhongli could even think about doing anything, his hand had found the side of your face and brushed away the tear from your face. you stared at him, wide eyed, before blood flushed to your cheeks

you apologized for getting distracted, but he assured you it was okay and that he didn’t mind. he felt his heart begin to pick up its pace when he saw you smile and nuzzle your face into his palm

he wanted to hold you into his chest and shield you from anything from hurting you, both physically and emotionally. he wanted to see you smile again and again, just between the two of you.

was this what humans called “love”? what a peculiar feeling.

[pascalscenarios]

THE ONE (Frankie Morales x Reader)

THE ONE

Frankie Morales x Reader  

Summary: Since seeing Frankie Morales, you can't seem to get him out of your mind and old feelings start to arise. While out on a lunch date with your finance, you run into him again. 

Warning: Mild Swearing

Words: 2388

Author Note: I’ve been in my Frankie feels lately. It hurts. 

CH 1 | CH 2

Chapter 2

2011

“You’re leaving?” You stood in the doorway. You were confused watching Frankie run around your shared bedroom collecting his belongings.

“Yeah, I am.” he stuffs clothes into his tan large tactical bag and a duffle that sat at the foot of your guys' bed. He must have been called out again, that's why he’s quickly trying to pack.

“Oh… I didn’t know you were called back out, why didn't you-”

“I wasn't called back.” he cut you off.

“...okay, so what's all this then?” You motion to his bags. “Where are you going?...”

He didn’t answer you. He just kept packing his things. He zipped his tactical bag, putting it on his back and slinging the duffle over his shoulder. Frankie walked over to the dresser picking up his hat, placing his hat on his head, and grabbing the keys to his truck.

He walked past you, heading out of the room and into the living.

“Frankie, What is going on?!” You laugh in as you call after him. You had no idea what was happening and what he was doing.

“You have a camping trip with Santiago and the boys? If that's the case-” You enter the living room finding Frankie standing a few feet from the dooring staring at you. You couldn’t read his expression. Just a deadpan look took over the soft and happy face he usually had. Something was wrong.

“Frankie?” you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“I’m done. We’re done,” he says bluntly.

You were taken back. “W-what?” was all you managed to say after he dropped an unexpected bomb on you.

“I’m leaving,” he states again.

“Frankie, I’m so confused! Where is this coming from?!” You were in disbelief. You walked over to him, placing a hand on his cheek. Frankie moves his head back, moving away from your touch.

“Frankie…”

“I’m sorry.” He says turning his back on you walking towards the door.

“NO!” You yelled as you dash for the front door. You stood in his way blocking him from leaving. “NO, I’m not letting you up and leave without talking to me first! We're gonna talk about this!”

He sighs. “Move”

“Talk to me. Don’t shut me out. We can just work this out if you just talk to me and tell me what’s wrong...Please...Talk. To. Me.” You pleaded, tears forming in your eyes.

He extends his arms out, swiping you away from the door so he could leave. He walks outside to his parked truck, tossing his bags in the back. You followed close behind, fuming with emotions.

“FRANCISCO MORALES!” You shouted after him. “Like HELL you’re leaving!.”

“I gotta go.”

“So that’s it?! You’re just going to walk out on me, walk away from everything we’ve have and just leave?”

“Pretty much.” He says leaning against the truck, folding his arms across his chest.

“Are you hearing yourself?! Do you even know what you’re saying?! This makes no sense! I’m so confused, hurt, scared and you’re not even going to give me an explanation or try to work it out with me!”

He looks down at the ground, avoiding your burning stare.

“I don’t want this anymore. We’ve run our course.” He stares.

“We’ve run our course? No, Y-you don’t mean that… I-I know you. I know you inside and out. I know your heart. You wouldn’t do this to me”

“You don’t know me. I’ve changed, my feelings have changed.”

You scoffed. “I don't believe you. You’re a fucking coward! Running away like a scared little boy!” Tears streaming down your face.

With that, Frankie stands up and opens the car door. Your eyes widen. He was really going to leave you. Just like that. He starts the engine.

You quickly rush to the divers window. “Frankie, come on you can’t be serious. Frankie-” He reversed the car down the driveway, you following the car.

He was leaving. You started pleading for him to stay, begging even. “Please don’t go! Stay! Don’t go! Don’t leave me! Please, just tell me what I did wrong!” You sobbed as he pulled out the driveway.

“FRANKIE!”

…

“Babe!”

“Hmm?” You snap out of your thoughts.

It's been a few days since you saw Frankie in the parking lot. Since running into him, the night of your break up is constantly replaying in your head. It hasn’t been like this in years. From time to time you thought about that night. What would have happened if he stayed. If he had been willing to work things and not run away. You still had no clue as to why he left you, just the bullshit of an excuse he gave you. You were able to move on past what had happened... at least you thought you had. Seeing him again really set you off. You felt like you were being sucked back into those days of overthinking and analyzing everything.

“How do you like this one?” You and Alex were at a local bakery trying different cake flavors for your wedding cake.

“I don’t like it.” You say pushing the red velvet sample piece away. You weren’t in the mood for this. Frankie was the only thing on your mind lately, and it was driving you insane.

“You, alright?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, I’m a fine sweetie. Why?” You gave him a fake smile.

Alex takes a seat beside you. “You’ve been acting strangely for a couple of days. You seem like you have a lot on your mind.”

You sign, picking up the fork, and start to you with your piece of cake. “I’m just stressed with the few things we have left of the wedding, work, and the fact I ran into fra-” you stopped yourself once you realized what you were going to say.

“When you ran into who?” Alex questions.

You didn’t want to tell Alex you ran into your ex and make it a whole huge thing. “Frankie Morales…” you stab the fork into the cake.

“Who’s that?” You never brought up Frankie to anyone unless it was close family and friends. Alex was your partner but there was no need to bring up Frankie because he was a part of the past. You haven’t told anyone you saw Frankie, not even Santiago, but it is weighing and taking a toll on you. You needed to tell someone.

“An old friend.” Technically you weren’t lying. Frankie was your friend at one point in your life, but he also became more than a friend… a boyfriend...an ex-boyfriend. “We were close when we were kids, but we had a falling out a long time ago, but he recently came back into town.”

“Maybe you could try to reconnecting with them-”

“No!” You quickly shouted. Alex is taken back by your sudden outburst. “No...It was good to see him I guess, but things have changed. We’re different people. It’s not the same as it once was.”

You pick up a different sample cake to distract yourself and move on from the topic. You pick up and have a bite.

“This ones too sweet.”

“I kinda like it.”

“Honey no!” You chuckle.

…

After deciding on your cake flavor, coconut, and design at the bakery flavor, you and Alex headed towards their favorite restaurant for lunch. You were just outside the door when you noticed Frankie walking in your direction. You swear the universe must hate you. You cursed underneath your breath.

“Hey, I’m not so hungry-” as you take Alex’s hand, turning in back around towards the direction you came from.

“Woah what? Come on, this is my favorite-” Alex stops you both from moving.

“Yeah. I think we should just go ho-” You grab Alex’s hand and start dragging them, but you didn’t even take a few steps.

“Hey, Smiles.”

You close your eyes, deeply signing. You turn around slowly. He was still wearing the same casual clothes he always wore and that damn hat.

“Hey...” The three of you awkwardly stand there in silence for a few seconds.

“Sup Man. I’m Alex!” Alex introduces themself, extending his hand to Frankie.

“Ah Smiles’s finance…” Frankie says shaking Alex’s hand. “I’m Frankie.”

“Oh, Frankie Morales! The old friend! Funny you came up in conversation today!”

“Alex!” You say through your teeth.

Frankie cocks his eyebrow at you. “Really? Smiles told you I was coming to the wedding?”

“You invited him to the wedding? I thought-” Alex whispers to you.

“Yeah, I did!- Um, Nice to see you again Frankie, but we really should get going-”

“Frankie, We’re headed to lunch, you wanna join us?” Alex says inviting Frankie.

Alex did NOT just do that. The last thing you wanted was to see Frankie, but having lunch with your ex-boyfriend AND finance? You wanted to crawl into a hole and just die.

You glare at Frankie, your eyes telling him to say no. “Sure, why not.” He smiles.

“Lovely! Frankie, We’ll meet you inside, I need to talk to Alex real quick!” you gave him a fake smile. He said yes on purpose, that fucker. You’d deal with him later, but you needed to deal with Frankie.

Frankie opens the door and heads inside the cafe. You turn to Alex.

“Alex? I don’t want to reconnect with him.” you sigh.

“I mean you invited him to the wedding”

“I didn’t mean to invite him. It just came out-”

“He’s your childhood friend. Maybe it's a good thing that Frankie is back, you can catch up and rekindle your friendship. Life’s too short to be upset with someone.”

You wanted to rekindle NOTHING with Frankie Morales and you had every right to be upset with him after what he did to you. Maybe you should have told Alex that Frankie was your ex, then you wouldn't have been in this predicament.

You huffed.

“Come on, it can't be that bad.”

Oh, Alex, you have no idea, you thought.

…

You were at the restaurant for a while talking about the wedding and random things. Frankie and Alex talked the majority of the time getting to know each other.

“What do you do for a living?”

You toyed with your paper straw in your drink as you listened to Alex and Frankie. You just wished the waitress would come to buy and drop off the check already.

“I’m ex-military, I flew helicopters. Now I just fly doing cargo transports. How about you?” Frankie says picking up a french fry from his meal, dipping it in ketchup, and popping it into his mouth.

“I work for a tech company in the city.” Alex bites into the last of his sandwich. “We were talking about you earlier, they mentioned you knew each other from childhood.”

“Yeah, Smiles and way back.” Frankie chuckles.

“Smiles?” Alex asks, unaware of why Frankie kept calling you that.

“It’s a silly nickname he gave me when we were kids.” You chime in.

“It’s not silly. She always had the biggest smile on her face. Always happy. She was constantly following Santiago and me around. ” He smiles thinking about the simpler times.

“You know Santiago?”

“He’s my best friend. That’s how I met Smiles.”

The gears were turning in Alex’s head. “Hmm, I’m confused as to how I’ve never heard of you. You’ve never been brought up in conversation.”

“Well, Frankie did up and disappear at one point. No one knew where he went for a while.” You sit back in your seat, changing the tone of the conversation. Alex was oblivious to it all, but Frankie knew just what you meant. You both started at each other. Frankie gulping, growing unformattable, adjusting in his seat slightly.

“What? Where you’d go?”

“Yeah, Frankie…Where’d you go?” You cocked your head to the side giving him a questioning and clueless look.

“Here are your check folks!” the waitress comes dropping off the receipt on the table. Of course, the waitress comes at this exact moment.

“I can pay,” Frankie says, picking up the bill.

“What? No, we invited you man-”

“It’s cool. Consider it as an almost getting married gift.” Frankie says gabbing cash out of his wallet and setting it with the bill folder.

“Thank you! I'll be right back. I'm gonna head to the bathroom before we go.” Alex gets up and walks away from the table.

You and Frankie sat there alone.

“Alex seems nice,” Frankie speaks up.

“What are you doing?” you ask him straight up.

“What?”

“Cut the bullshit Frankie” you snapped.

“Woah this is a total change of attitude from when you saw me the other day.” He folds his arms across your chest.

“That was me being in shock. The feeling has since worn off,” you said coldly.

“I was curious and saw the opportunity to see who you’re getting married to Smiles.”

“No. You don’t get to do that! You don’t get to come back into my life pretending everything alright between us because it's not. We are not on friendly terms and never will be. So stop trying to wedge your way in. You left, I’m not letting you back in.” You said sternly.

“Alright. Ready to go?” Alex says walking back over.

“Yeah.” You say getting up out of your seat, Frankie doing the same.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie!”

“Same here.” They shake hands.

“Bye Smiles.”

You look at him with hurt in your eyes. You shake your head and sign. You take Alex’s hands and walk towards the exit.

Frankie stood there watching you and Alex leave. Every day of his life since that night, he regretted leaving you the way that he did. He should have stayed. After years of reflecting on the situation, he realized how completely and utterly stupid he was, but he thought it was the best choice at the time. It was the worst decision he had ever made in his entire life. The number of times he wished he could have gone back to fix things. He would do it in a heartbeat if it meant being with you. He knew owed you an explanation, heck he owed you so much after everything he put you through. He wanted to make things right with you, he needed to make things right with you. He just hopes it isn’t too late to do so.

[jaskiersvalley]

You are the one who got me hooked on Eskel/Lambert and now I can't stop writing them together how did you do this to me, shipping by osmosis

Yes! Welcome to this small ship (a whole 46 stories on AO3). But our numbers are slowly growing. And I will also point you in the direction of @ohnomybreadsticks for some quality content, especially when slipping Cahir into the mix too (canon? What’s that?). To celebrate your joining of this ship, I have a really still idea to bestow upon you.

Arriving in a town with the promise of a contract, only to find another witcher had already been by was always annoying. Even worse when the locals had chased said witcher from their midst without payment and rushed into hurriedly packing his things. At least the locals let Geralt and Jaskier pay for a room as long as they moved on from the village the next day. They even gave them the same room that had been sullied by the previous witcher. For some reason, Geralt had stiffened upon entering the room, as if met by a familiar scent but he refused to elaborate so Jaskier shrugged. If it was important, he would find out. The next moment, his attention was taken up by a leaf of parchment poking out from under the bed. Curiosity piqued, he grabbed it in a rush even though he knew Geralt wouldn’t have gone near it anyway.

“-makes things bearable. I do hope he’s okay. While I keep an ear out for whispers of him and know I cannot walk my Path and his at the same time, I worry. Winter cannot come soon enough. Even if I can’t hold him like I’d want to, I can at least make sure he can take it easy and actually enjoy being alive for a change. I’d do so much more-”

It was too intimate, probably an entry from a journal that was falling apart. Jaskier’s hear squeezed at the idea of a witcher who was so obviously in love with someone that sounded like another witcher. Maybe he needed a bit of help in romancing the love of his life. Jaskier knew what it was like, to love a witcher and not be loved in return. Maybe he could help spare someone this miserable fate.

Finding a charmed bird was quite difficult and cost a good chunk of coin but Jaskier deemed it a worthy sacrifice. The pigeon would track the intended recipient of a letter and could be used as a way to communicate over long distances.

Dear Witcher,

I am but a humble bard who happened upon a page of your journal. Your plight sings to my heart as we both seem to love someone who walks the Path and we can but quiver in our boots and hope they return to our side after each separation. While return they do, our beloveds don’t seem to realise that we would bestow upon them more than our care as friends. May I offer you solace and friendship through these letters, as one fool in love with a witcher to another.

Jaskier tied that, along with the page he had found, along with a feather from one of his hats to the pigeon. It went its way and Jaskier could only hope his offer was taken for what it was, a genuine, heartfelt companion for the broken hearted.

It took two weeks for the pigeon to return, a fresh piece of parchment tied to its leg.

Bard,

This is a most unexpected letter, I didn’t even realise I lost a page from my journal. It’s almost full now and seen more than its fair share of battles. Thank you for returning it. As for the matter of its content, I would love to say it’s none of your business and never speak of it again. Yet, despite my best caution, I am intrigued to find another who claims to love a witcher. If you’re struggling for his affections, may I suggest you feed him? While my wolf is fiercely independent, he does always look so touched and bashful when presented with little delicacies he wouldn’t have treated himself to otherwise.

Best of luck on your quest to win a fortified heart, Witcher

It was a most exciting development, not once did the mysterious witcher tell Jaskier to stop contacting him, or even dishearten him. Instead, Jaskier had been given a hint on how to woo Geralt. New tactic in mind, Jaskier set about buying sweet cakes and pastries whenever he could and presenting them to Geralt. At first, it was met with offended bafflement but, slowly, over time, Jaskier could see the hopeful glances. Even better was when, out of the blue, Jaskier was presented with a blueberry tart - his absolute favourite.

Dear Witcher,

Thank you for your help. My own wolf has mellowed and seems appreciative, if confused, by the sudden treats. He even returned the gesture. Something I’ve found he likes is his hair being played with. Mustn’t call it brushing or styling! But a quiet night by a fire, fingers carding through his hair definitely help him relax. It’s such a beautiful sight, so much power and raw strength tamed by nothing more than gentle touch. Maybe, when you next see your wolf, he might enjoy an evening with his head in your lap too.

Tell me more about your wolf though, what’s he like? I know I suffer when I cannot sing about the heroic deeds and virtues of my wolf. As a bard, thankfully i have an outlet so my heart doesn’t burst with love. But I wonder who you have that will listen to your adorations.

May your Path lead you to your wolf’s heart. Bard

Letters went back and forth between this witcher and Jaskier. Any questions about the witcher himself were ignored or not quite answered and Jaskier could appreciate that. He did learn a lot though, this witcher was kind, he was much like Geralt in that he wouldn’t take payment if there was true suffering without the means to fund the services of a witcher. There were also a few self-deprecating comments which led Jaskier to believe that the man he was exchanging letters with was shy, probably quite a gentle soul that was hardened by decades of life as a witcher.

There was one time Jaskier fretted over his pen pal. A letter had arrived, it had splatters of blood and was written with by a shaking hand. Short and to the point, so much so that Jaskier could have wept.

Bard - treasure your wolf and hold him close at night. They’re getting colder and longer. When he’s hurt, sing him a lullaby of old and even when it looks hopeless, you can be his guiding light. Remind him he’s never alone while he’s got you. Don’t let him waste your beset years together just because he’s a fool who cannot see all you have to offer.

That night, Jaskier pulled his bedroll closer and was surprised when Geralt easily allowed him to press close. Jaskier held his wolf not just for himself but for the mystery witcher who was likely injured and alone somewhere out there in the big wide world.

The exchange of letters continued. Jaskier learned about the witcher’s wolf, that he was dedicated to the Path even though he cursed it and the life he had before that too. It really sounded like whoever this sad wolf was, he had led a life of anger and disappointment. No wonder he couldn’t let in this other witcher and accept the love shown, he probably had no frame of reference for what love looked like or how to deal with it.

My dearest Witcher,

Winter draws closer and I have been invited to accompany my wolf to his home. There, I will get to meet his family which is rather nerve-wracking. I’ve heard a few stories of his brothers and while I hope they will find me to their liking, I still worry. Maybe I will use your suggestions in moderation and bring them treats as well as be a quiet but steady presence, should they need a confidant.

I do hope your winter goes well and you are able to hold your wolf in your strong arms at long last. Be honest with him. If he is as cautious with his heart as you say, and as kind under all his snark and bluster, I should hope that he will either accept all the love you have to offer with a bit of huffing. Or he will be gentle but clear in his boundaries of what his heart can and cannot offer.

Keep in touch over this winter, I have grown fond of you and your thoughtful words. Bard

Trekking up to Kaer Morhen, Jaskier didn’t think he’d get a pigeon until stashed away in the keep. Winter was cold and harsh, it made him worry for his pigeon. Or rather, their pigeon because Jaskier had noted at the bird always came back so cared for, once or twice it even had the remnants of a flower collar around its throat. Sometimes it had been given a nice bath, the soft perfume still gently wafting from its wings.

Jaskier had no idea what to expect of Kaer Morhen. It was large, ominous and cold. Drafts whipped through it and made fires flicker. Introductions were made, Jaskier nodded at Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert. He didn’t miss the way Geralt looked between the two younger witchers. Obviously there was something going on there that was unusual but Jaskier didn’t know them well enough to probe.

Bard,

I’m safely back at the my winter home, surrounded by family and more. I say more because one of my brothers has brought a bard back with him. They reek of each other and it’s almost disgusting how in love they seem. The bard himself is so young. A bright ray of sunshine in this dreary old place. I don’t think these halls had ever echoed with song before. It’s annoying on some level but at the same time, his cheer and seemingly open adoration of all things witcher is disarming. Somehow, I get the feeling you would like him. If I can find out more about him, I might try and send him your way. Makes me wonder what it is about bards and witchers but now there are two pairs at least on this continent. Maybe I should shuck my swords and take up a lute if I want to keep my own wolf happy.

Stay safe and warm, hold your wolf close on these cold nights. Witcher P.S. I took your advice and laid my heart bare. I no longer sleep in my room and have never been happier.

Upon reading the letter, Jaskier squealed in delight. His witcher friend had a wolf to hold and love. Even if their Paths took opposing directions, they now both had someone for return to, to fight for.

My dearest Witcher,

Your letter was the best news. I am so pleased you and your wolf have found solace in each other. Long may your love last and may you keep each other safe. And please, do let me know of this other bard. I would love to meet him. As long as it isn’t that talentless hack, Vadlo Marx, imitating me once more. If it is, please do the world and your witcher brother a favour and snap his neck. Everyone will thank you for it in the long term, trust me.

I’ve only managed to fall in love with my wolf’s family. They’re a quiet, reserved bunch but absolutely endearing. And let me tell you about the love between two of them. I don’t think I’ve seen a love more true or pure. There’s so much I want to ask them about how they found peace with each other, how they manage out in the world without each other when on the Path. If I glean anything useful, I will be sure to pass it onto you and it might help ease your burdens when a new season rolls around.

Have a happy winter, Bard

Carefully, Jaskier fixed the letter to the pigeon and opened the window. However, the cold must have frightened it because it took off towards the door, flying through the keep with Jaskier running after it, yelling. They ended up in the kitchen where Eskel was lounging against the counter while Lambert kneaded some bread.

“Oh hello,” Eskel cooed at the pigeon and held a hand out for it to land. Grinning, he plucked the letter off with practised ease. “You came back a lot quicker than expected. Less than a day.”

Which was when Jaskier burst into the kitchen, huffing and puffing, glaring at the pigeon. He scooped the bird up from Eskel’s palm with a stern glare. “You are a little brat. Now look what you’ve done, lost my letter too. What are we going to do with you?”

Only listening with half an ear as Eskel read his letter, he paused and looked up at Jaskier in surprise.

“Bard?”

Realisation made Jaskier drop the pigeon. “Witcher? Which can only mean-” he turned to look at Lambert, “-wolf?”

“Which makes Geralt...” Eskel trailed off and let out a gruff huff as Jaskier launched himself at him in a hug.

“I am so happy for you!” Jaskier laughed brightly and Eskel could only return the hug, a smile of his own slowly blossoming across his face.

[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump Day 23

Prompt: “Don’t look”

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence/slave torture

Read on AO3

Oya Manda

While the tally marks on Rex's armor are for his kills, the ones he now marks on the side of his boot are for the days that have passed since he and General Kenobi were taken to Kadavo. Crossing the other four marks with a shaky diagonal line to signify the end of the fifth day isn't as satisfying as another enemy out of the way. He sighs as he sets down the little piece of graphite, letting his head hit the back of the bunk heavily like he's too exhausted to hold it up himself.

Kadavo is a new type of hell. He thought cadet training was hard work but this... this is torture. The older troopers like to whisper about their "slavery to the Republic", but those cushy Captains and Commanders haven't been here. The clones might as well be house pets of the Republic compared to the horrors he's seen at the Zygerrian market.

There is a heavy sigh in the bunk below him, and the clunk of a body falling onto the hard surface all at once. General Kenobi. Rex hasn't seen him all day, so he peers over the side at his Jedi General.

To say General Kenobi looks worse for wear would be a compliment. The man's robes have been all but shredded by the number of whips and beatings he's taken. They're basically red at this point too, caked into his skin by the dried blood. Though Rex hasn't exactly had it easy either, he certainly hasn't gotten the treatment of a Jedi in slave captivity. Slowly, painfully, General Kenobi rolls over, his eyes meeting Rex's in the dim light.

"Hello, Rex," he says softly. He half-expects him to ask him how he's doing, but then again, the general hasn't asked that in two days. It only prompts the same question in return, which he suspects Kenobi doesn't want to answer either.

"General. Where'd they have you today?"

"Rocks," he shifts his body so he's lying on his back, arms folded behind his head as a pillow. "You?"

"Digging."

"Hm." His eyes are already fluttering closed. Manual labor for fourteen hours a day will do that to a person. The draw of sleep is also tugging at the clone captain. He takes one last look at Kenobi.

"Night, sir."

The general in return just hums something incoherent, and Rex lays back on his own bunk.

He's on digging again the next day. Separated from General Kenobi once again. They lead him with a group of Togrutas to their site, and by the crack of a whip slicing through the air, they begin their day. Rex has learned the drill by now: stay quiet, keep working, and keep your head down. He hasn't had a bad beating since the second day with this tactic, and he'd like to stay in as few pieces as possible if he's going to be in fighting shape when they're rescued.

If we ever get rescued.

He pauses, the negative thought settling in and sending a chill down his spine. No, we will get rescued. They will come for us.

Rex knows this. Their mission is to save the Togrutas, and by association, him and the general. But he can see the five tally marks on his boot from where he stands, and he can't deny that it's been a long time since they were taken.

"Back to work!" a Zygerrian guard growls, and Rex raises his eyes to see if he's talking to him-- he is, but as Rex shoves his shovel into the gravel ground, a young girl catches his eye. The Togruta is also assigned to digging duty, but she hardly looks older than the commander! In fact, she looks quite like the commander, her montrals also blue and white, though a darker blue, and her white facial markings make up the majority of her face. What really gets him is when she looks up, obviously feeling someone's eyes on her, and stares at him with these big, round blue eyes. She just... reminds him so much of Tano it brings a knot to his stomach.

Seeing her in that getup at the market was... sickening enough. Through the war, Rex and the others have all but adopted the kid as their own, and to see her playing the part of the slave made his blood boil. Especially since he was playing the part of a slaver.

But to see an actual young Togruta that looks remarkably like their own Jedi... it's too much to take. All he can think about is if that were Tano, and it makes him eager to add more tally marks to his helmet.

"I said," a booming voice cuts through his remembrance of Ahsoka Tano, "back to work!" The crack of a whip snaps crisply in the air and Rex watches the girl flinch. He gets back to digging, but the anger builds in his belly. What is a kid doing out here in the first place?

By lunchtime, which of course, isn't actually lunch for the slaves but for the guards, Rex has ended up next to the Togruta girl as those between them were sent elsewhere. When Rex is confident the guards are too occupied with their food, he leans over slowly.

"Hey kid," he says softly. Even with his care to not startle her, she jumps at the sound of his voice. "You doing alright?"

She peers up at him with hesitant eyes but seeing he too is bound by a collar just as her she nods. "As good as I can."

"Tired?"

"My legs..." she winces. "Exhausted."

He nods, noticing the shake in her thin legs.

"Pick up less gravel in your shovel. I'll be sure to make up for it for you. Just concentrate on staying upright." he says, giving her a sympathetic nod. He isn't sure if she knows this yet, but the guards are not kind to those who collapse of exhaustion. They act as though flogging is a replacement for proper food and rest.

She looks at him uneasily, but nods. "Thank you. I will try."

They continue to work in silence. She does, indeed, pick up smaller loads, and Rex tries to move a little quicker and pick up a little more. He himself has been keeping a steady pace, and the mission of helping her is enough to bring his energy up again.

"What is your name?" he asks after a while. "Mine is Rex."

"Arshee."  

"That's a pretty name. How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

She looks much younger, but it could be the sunken cheeks and thin frame.

Rex glances at the guards, who are dealing with someone on the other side of their workspace, and he leans in again. "We're going to get you out of here, Arshee. Help is coming."

"When?" she asks, as though being told help is on the way is something she hears on the daily.

"I-- I don't-- soon."

Arshee just nods, the points of her montrals sagging as she puts her head down to concentrate on digging. Rex sighs. He just wanted to give her hope, but it seems this is no place for that sort of thing.

Then two hours later, despite her best efforts, Arshee's body starts to shake, and she collapses to the ground. Her shovel has not yet toppled over when the guards have grabbed her by the biceps and hoisted her to her knees.

"No, please!" she bellows in terror. "I just fell!"

"You'll learn to rest on the job," one says, twirling around his whip as it powers up. It happens so fast, Rex hardly has time to react to what is happening. He stops working to stare at them in horror as the first lash from the electro-whip makes sickening contact with her back, wrapping around to jab into her ribs. The sight makes him queasy and immeasurably angry. Before he can think it through, he reverses his grip on the shovel, and when the slaver raises his arm to hit her again, Rex jumps between them, pointing his shovel at his face.

"Enough," he says. "She's a kid."

"She's our property."

"Well... so am I."

The Zygerrian's face goes from mild pleasure to a large, sinister smile ear-to-ear.

"Looks like we got ourselves a hero."

He hears a dull thud and the sound of crawling across gravel. Rex can see Arshee sitting on the ground with her arms wrapped around her torso out of his peripheral, her eyes wide with horror. Once again, he sees the commander in her place. Rex is ready to accept the fate of this if it means she will be spared.

The slave driver raises his whip, the string crackling with extra power, and Rex looks over his shoulder at the young Togruta girl.

"Don't look," he whispers, and then he feels the whip snap into his skin, sending searing, white-hot pain through every part of him. The electricity comes next, making every muscle in his body spasm and seize until they feel like they're melting off his bones entirely. There are only a couple seconds between each whip-- a few moments to recover before the progression repeats. His nerves are so strung out, he hardly realizes they have turned him around to work on slashing across his back.

In one of the lulls, he looks over where Arshee landed. Thankfully, she listened to him and is staring off in the opposite direction. He can see the tears dripping from her chin, her arms wrapped so tightly around her midsection it's like she's the only thing holding herself together.

She probably feels guilty that I've taken her beating... and maybe that is the case. But Rex would much rather her be upset with guilt than crying over the pain of torture. He will be sure to reassure her of this when he has the chance.

Rex grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut, and he rides out continued assault.

Now Rex is the one that looks worse for wear. As he drags himself back to his bunk, his body still buzzing from the electric shocks, he finds Kenobi sitting on the edge of the bunks already, watching his slow approach. He has a new black eye today, still bright red in some places so it must be fairly recent.

"Rex..." the general says in concerned awe as he sits down next to him. He has no energy to hoist himself up into his own bunk yet. Even sitting, his body sways, and Kenobi puts a stabilizing hand on his back.

"You mind?" Rex asks, holding out the small piece of graphite and stiffly raising his food. General Kenobi eyes the graphite and then his boot before taking it from his hand.

"They'll come," Kenobi says quietly as he places a new tally next to his group of five.

But even the Jedi, ever optimistic, doesn't sound entirely convinced of his own words.

[amarantine-amirite]

It's Not Up To You

I never once had any peace or rest. There was a persistent threat that resources and places would vanish without a trace. Even though I never got my ass handed to me daily, I could never anticipate when I would be able to catch my breath.  

I had to adapt. I had to be able to alter my expectations faster than the circumstances would change. It forced me to abandon having a set image of what I want in my mind. It took away my ability to visualize. I had to anticipate resources disappearing in the future, so I had a hard time with long-term planning.  

Going into the week, I had it all figured out. I had found an iron-clad way for me to have my cake and eat it too. It may not have been ideal, but at least I still had the resources available.

My mother planned to drive me to my piano concert. Because she had a stressful day at work yesterday, she went to the bar. She neither came home nor returned any of my calls, so I assumed she was either crazy hungover or still passed out. I now had to hitch a ride with Jackie and her sister, Henrietta.  

Henrietta drove like she had lead feet. “Uh, Ettie,” Jackie asked, “you just blew through a traffic light at” 

“Don’t tell me how fast I’m going; I need to know where I am!” she snapped. 

“Can we at least stop and get lunch?” I asked. I last ate at 7:00 AM. Bad things happen when I try to function on an empty stomach. My temper gets worse. My impulse control goes to Hell. I bounce off the walls.  

“Hell, no!” Henrietta snarled, “If we stop to eat, we’ll get stuck in a traffic snarl!”

“OK, what’s your problem?” I whined. I had no idea why Henrietta got so upset. 

Henrietta sighed angrily. “Do you wanna know why I’m so fucking pissed off?" she barked, "Those fuckers moved up my fucking interview by a fucking week. I was supposed to get married today! All that money I spent on the venue, the photographer, the catering; that’s money I’m never going to see again!” 

I don’t know how Henrietta could say that without bursting into tears. “And what about Jasper? He’s going to think I broke off the wedding because I don’t have feelings for him anymore. I’m worried. He doesn’t handle rejection well. What if he tries to kill himself again?” 

What happened next felt like being in the desert and coming upon an oasis, only to discover it’s a mirage. When we arrived at our destination, everything went up in smoke. Before we left, Henrietta told me that she would drop us off first, then head to the interview. She looked at us and said, “Nobody's leaving until I finish my interview. Understand?” 

I nodded. Inside, I wanted to smack her. Hard.

Today has been nothing but hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. I fucking hate being jerked around like this. The constant stop-and-start made me feel like someone drained of my life force. I can’t deal with it anymore. 

Jackie and I came up with a plan. The plan was simple, like Henrietta’s would-be husband, Jasper. Unlike Jasper, the plan stood a chance of working. When they let her in to do the interview, Jackie and I would duck out and go to my piano concert. We’d come back when I finished my set, and that’d be that.

Problem. We made a huge tactical error. 

It’s a long story. At the beginning of the school year, the cheerleaders thought it would be funny to nominate Anna Rose, the head of the chess club, for prom queen as a joke. Anna didn’t know about this, but the principal did. On Halloween night, we got something really scary in our inboxes: an official email with the school's letterhead saying that due to “bullying", prom would be permanently cancelled until measurable snowfall in July. A lot of the anxieties that kids channel into what they’re going to do at their prom got redirected elsewhere. 

The kids at school got offended. By everything. Like, a lot.

Remember how I said that school has been so hard for me because I have no idea what to expect? Well, this piano concert thing was a perfect example. I had to make a list of not just one song, but for possible songs that I could play at this concert. I need to be ready to switch out songs in case the band teacher changed his mind. He always did stuff like that. One day, you could pick whatever song you wanted for school concerts, and the next, they would say that it had to come from a pre-approved list. So that meant I had no idea what song I was going to play. When people asked me, the best I could say was, "I’ve got a lineup." Lineup was not a good choice of words; a better choice of words would have been revolving door .

This brings us to our mistake: the same reason that I had to keep a revolving door of songs in my mind for the concert was also the same reason why we should have called the hotel where the concert was to be held ahead of time to double-check to see if the school had not cancelled it. We did not do that.

That brings us to right now. We are smack dab in the middle of what appears to be a campus recruitment event. Everyone in the room except for us is wearing cheap suits that fit somebody else, nobody looks familiar, and the atmosphere consists of a general air of anxiety and lack of preparedness.

Five minutes after we arrived, a woman wearing a pantsuit that made her look like a pool table, pineapple earrings, and a name tag that read “Megan Mulroney“ approached us. “Excuse me, ladies," she said, “are you students at The Fletcher School?”

“No, we go to Arthur Vandelay high school," Jackie said, “I’m here with Margaret because she’s got a piano concert to go to.” 

I stood up and looked at Megan. “So is that in the Gold room, because I got a copy of the flyer here and it says Hall B, and I don’t know where that is, and…”

Megan cut us off. “I don't know what you’re talking about,” she said.

I handed Megan the flyer. “I’m talking about this.”

She didn’t look at the flyer. She gave it right back to me. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but that’s a piece of blank paper." 

“It’s not blank!” I chirped. 

“Yes, it is; and I don’t appreciate you wasting my time like this.“

“We’re not wasting your time.”

“Well then, why am I dealing with two overdressed high school idiots when I have new grads to check in for a networking event?” she said, doing her best impression of a bratty 12-year-old.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

Megan shrugged at us and rolled her eyes in a cocky fashion. “I'm not stubborn all the time. I'm only stubborn when I’m right.” 

Big red flag. If someone says I'm only stubborn when I'm right , it means they're putting up a front, either because they don't want to but they're wrong or they're trying to bullshit you. 

She continued to puff herself out. “Listen, you’re not special. What happens to you happens to other people, too.”

“Not helpful,” I said as I rolled my eyes.  

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, sorry you feel that way.”

“What does that even mean?” I blurted.  

She ignored us. Rather than explain what was going on, she instead attempted to have phone sex with Idris Elba and got the wrong number.

It didn’t stop there. One look out the window told me we’d have to get someone else to pick us up, as Henrietta got arrested. I’m guessing she found out that the job she applied for was posted as an April Fool’s Day joke and she either trashed the office or beat the crap out of the hiring manager. Based on the black eye, I think it was the second thing. 

Terrific. Now we have no plan, no ride home, and no idea what the fuck is supposed to happen next. 

I’m devastated. I feel gutted. But beyond that, I'm spooked.

This isn't something you'd consider typically scary. It felt like that last photo taken before a disaster. This looming sense that something catastrophic is coming down the pike continues to hang over me.

@writers-are-writers

[wevegottogetaway]

Thanks fo’ saving my ass (Part 2)

There is a part 3 coming, I think these two deserve the...culmination, but I wasn’t sure if I could have it ready soon enough. Stay tuned for more, hope you enjoy! x

Part 1   -   Part 3*

It starts with a resounding bang. A back curving over maple hardwood; taut muscle stretching soft cotton fabric; twin jades squinted in concentration; a shoulder blade protruding briefly for one swift determining movement. Red, blue, yellow, purple, orange phenolic resin scattering across green worsted wool like a dozen pinballs simultaneously kicked in various directions.

It ends with the deep echo. A ball falling into emptiness before meeting rock-bottom; the release of a soft withheld breath; firm flesh unflexing with satisfaction; two sets of glossy eyes meeting in a knowing look. "Nice break, Styles. Stripes it is," y/n happily comments once Harry leans back from the pool table.

Gibson’s is full of rowdy chatters, tipsy laughs and fulsome smiles. Strangers bonding for a night of undiluted carefreeness, clicking drinks after merry drinks in honor to their new ephemeral best friends. All sorrows have been forsaken on the coat rack at the entrance,  hung in insouciance, leaving nothing but good spirits to sit at the tables and loiter near the bar. Everything about this place is warm and nurturing, a cosy embrace after a tedious day, a home for the people that lets them nurse bottles and wounds alike, and sees them leave later on, cheerful, relaxed and healing. It took but a second for Harry to understand why y/n is so fond of the place and he was not surprised to find her on a first-name basis with the barmaid, the two of them catching up on life while she was preparing the drinks.

Now, fifteen minutes in, they’ve happily made their way to the vacant timeworn pool table at a secluded corner of the bar, drinks and grins in toe. The space is only lit up by a single lamp hanging from the ceiling, casting daedal shadows along the walls and across the table’s carpeted surface. The subdued light and music crooning in the background make for a suggestive atmosphere, air thick with limitless curiosity and enticing promises.

The corner of Harry’s lips quirks in a wry smile and a bold glint takes residence at the crease of his eyes; the telltale sign of a burgeoning idea brewing up in his cheeky mind. "What’dya say we make this a lil more interesting?" The offer is served with a raised brow, a hand on his waist, and one foot perched on its toes over the other as he leans against the cue.

From across the pool table, y/n is quite endeared at the sight but her response comes out in fake offense,"oh I’m sorry, am I boring you already?"

"Quite the opposite actually." His head tilts the slightest bit to the side, gaze unwavering from her face in a mission for persuasion.

Her lips grimace as she tries to suppress a betraying smile to no avail, "fine, I’m listening."

He grins victoriously at her inability to keep a straight face, his limbs dislodging from his casual pose. "We take turns," his motions at the space between them. "F’we pocket, we get to ask one question. No bullshit answer, jus’ the truth." His eyes are wide as he gauges her response.

"A question, huh?" she takes her time to contemplate the proposition just to watch him squirm in impatience. "Damn, for a sec I thought you were about to suggest strip-pool." She sends him a playful look as she walks the length of the table to step closer to him and have a better look at his chiseled features.

"I mean, m’totally down but might be a bit unfair on your part," his eyes briefly trail down her body in silent conveyance of her single-piece attire. He’s got much more material to shed before exposing skin than she does.

"Wouldn’t you like to know." The suggestive retort has Harry’s stomach churn with humid passion, the question of just how many layers she’s wearing exactly, playing with the most lascivious parts of his brain. "Not that it matters, you’d be butt-naked before you’d get a nip-slip."

"Overestimating yourself?"

"Just giving you fair warning," she shrugs in nonchalance running her fingers along the edge of the table, "so you know what you’re getting yourself into."

When she lifts her head back to connect their gaze again, she finds him biting at his bottom lip to contain his signature smirk, "no worries there, darlin’. M’all willing." He almost punctuates his retort with a salacious wink but decides to save it for a more opportune time. Something tells him he’s in for a long evening, not that it’s any cause for concern. Like he said, he is very much consenting to anything her heart desires to do to him.

"Good to know." Y/n quips back with a smile before leaning on her hand resting upon the pool table. "What’s your question then?"

For a moment, Harry forgets he just broke the rack and successfully sent a plain purple ball in one of the table’s pocket, taking him one step closer to victory and granting him one question as per his own proposition. He quickly gathers his reeling thoughts before settling on an easy inquiry, fingers fiddling with the desire to sketch every bit of her character. "Right um, do you have other hobbies besides playin- or should I say, winning pool?"

She wants to slap- or should she say, kiss the smug look off his lovely face, but her answers airs in the same level tone she employs at work, "yes I do."

It’s not enough for Harry’s archeologic curiosity though. He’s barely dusted off the ground beneath his feet to reveal the hint of new groundbreaking findings; armed with sieves and brushes, he is eager to dig a little further, "and what might those be?"

However, y/n is quick to rebuff him, "uh uh, that’s two questions."

Indignation soars through his straightened posture, as he cries out a faint ’what? no!’ and her own ego grows two size at her cunning deceit, "gotta up your game if you wanna keep that perky bum intact, Styles."

Earlier words resonate in the confines of his outfoxed mind then, you can kick my ass at that game of pool as promised, and he tries really hard not to think about the promise following them. Instead he counterattacks in obvious diversion tactic, "that’s twice you’ve mentioned my ass in the past 5 minutes, perhaps I should read into it?"

"I guess you’ll have to wait and see," she lithely deflects as she grabs her own cue with a determined look etched upon her face, "my turn now."

With powerful strides, y/n navigates around the table to position herself at the most promising angle for a score of her own. Once she has both her target and the cue ball in firing line, she tunes out every last bit of stimulus encompassing her; the muffled sound of the music, the sticky oxygen filling up her lungs with sensual tension, the charming presence of the beau intently ogling her every move.

It barely takes her a couple seconds of intense concentration before a sharp thump is bouncing off the table and piercing through the air. The shot is so accurate, clean-cut, vigorous yet graceful and elegant all out once, Harry finds himself mesmerized by her skills more than the subtle form curving out from her bent posture.

The satisfaction is evident in her traits as she straightens up to face him, a pleased rictus forming at her lips. She doesn’t let any suspense unfurl before she cashes in her prize, "so what’s up with the muffin deliveries? You a stress-baker or summat?"

It’s a puzzle that’s been boggling her mind for while now; ever since the first time she watched him gallivanting around the office, handing out kindness and freshly baked goods for the small price of a friendly smile; it’d been a reoccurring thing ever since. The recollection has Harry’s cheeks warm up to a bashful shade of vermillion at the thought of admitting the reason behind his action: he’d bake a basketful of cakes just so he could give her one without exposing himself. Being straight forward with his infatuation may have been unfeasible at the time, but there was nothing against inconspicuously indulging the sweet tooth he knew she had, right?

"I dunno, just like seein' people smile, and everyone likes a good muffin, right?" His answer teeters on the ledge between veracity and evasion, the genuine ‘they were all for you’ being replaced by a less naked truth.

Y/n nods at his answer and waits until he is about to aim for another shot to voice her musings out loud, "mmm, they are quite delicious." Her attempt to distract him turns fruitful when his ears perks at her sultry voice right as he pointedly knocks the white ball with his cue. It’s off by an inch but a near-hit doesn’t help assuage his frustration, "fuck."

"Oh bummer. Guess you’ll have to pass," y/n can’t help but to tease him.

And the pout on his lips does nothing to quell her amusement, "bollocks, you distracted me."

"I did no such thing," she denies before taking his place at the table. The odds are in her favor, a perfect alignment offering itself to sink the blue striped ball right into the closest pocket. And because y/n never misses a clear shot when she’s handed one, that’s exactly what happens. Tucking the cue back at her side, she mulls over the hundred questions titillating her mind and settles for another pass at him,"is this suit the most extravagant you own and if not, what are the others like?"

Harry scrunches up his nose at yet another dig taken at the expense of his clothes, his voice pitching a halftone higher than usual, "hey, s’nough outta you, leave my suits out of it." There is a pout puckering at his lips and y/n giggles at his theatrics when he brings his hands to his chest in a protective gesture. This man and his suits…

"Somehow I don’t believe you give a single fuck about people’s opinion on your fashion choices."

"Very true. But I do value your opinion." For a brief moment, humor and wit give way to vulnerable sincerity as the two of them lock eyes over the pool table. A shy smile graces y/n’s lips, her heart faltering at his sweet sentiment before Harry gently breaks the consuming stare-off, "well, if you’re lookin’ fo’ more extravagant, I actually have a canary yellow flared suit that goes with a violet dress-shirt." And just like that, they found their way back to confidential banter.

"Damn, now I have to see it."

"One day if you’re lucky," this time he does wink at her, and this time he doesn’t let her enchantress juju distract him from the task at hand. As soon as the balls vanishes from the table, the question flies out of his mouth, "do you really find my suits obnoxious?"

Y/n pauses at the inquiry and tries to read into his eyes. She inspects the bright emeralds for  any unsuspected insecurities and when she finds none, she sends him a simple smile, "I love them. I just enjoy too much your reactions when I give you shit about them." Her chuckle tugs at Harry’s lips, before she lets honesty flooding past hers, "you got such a great sense of who you are, Harry, it just shows in the way you dress. I admire that, don’t let that go."

Interiorly, he’s heart is jumping in somersaults at possibly the kindest compliment someone’s ever granted him, the fact that it came from her only sending his beating organ into more acrobatics. Exteriorly, he returns her tender smile and mutters a timorous ‘thanks love,’ before watching her pocket another ball.

This time she doesn’t have to mull it over, "why did you wait?"

"Huh?"

"When we kissed earlier, you said you’d wanted to do it for a while. Why didn’t you?"

Her words are bare of any reproach as they both lean on their side against the table, inches apart from each other. It’s a fair question; one that she doesn’t really own as the word could have easily tumbled out from his mouth instead. It’s him on the spot though, and while he didn’t quite expect to broach such hazardous matters over a game of pool, he appreciates the openness of their bond. "I dunno, you always seemed so attached to boundaries at work, always so professional, I didn’t think you’d want me to make a move."

"I secretly did," she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

Goosebumps race down Harry’s arms as he takes in her confession and the way her teeth are  nipping her lips into a darker shade of pink. His eyes are drawn to them, the urge to close the gap and have her moaning in his mouth growing harder and harder to ignore, "fuck that’s sexy. You’re sexy."

The praise washes over y/n like a cold shower after a scorching day at the beach; startling shivers at first, golden skin tingling, and then all-encompassing relief. She loves how unfiltered he is with her, baring his thoughts to her just as they come, no editing, no secret agenda, no diffidence. Just her pure effect on him plastered across his beautiful face and candy-coating his words with a thick oozing layer of honeycomb syrup.

Leaning the slightest bit towards him, she tempts him with a near-kiss, almost dipping her lips in exquisite spongy fudge, but stops just as their breaths starts blending in one hot mess, "your turn," she purrs against his lips tantalizingly, before stepping away.

Harry looks like he is now the one in need of a cold shower, eyes pinched closed as he tries to compose himself, "right," he clears his throat. It takes him a bit more time to regain enough focus to make a successful go at the game, but once he’s got a good hold on the cue, a stable breath and a clear view of the shot, he takes it with ease and fortune.

As soon as he straightens up, he erases the distance between them, a determined look hardening the subtle lines of his face. "Did you ever think about me like I thought about you? At work, did you ever see me pass in the hallway and it took everythin’ you had not to follow me and kiss me senseless in the copy-machine room while no-one was watchin’?"

"Fuck. The thought might have crossed my mind once or twice," y/n confesses in batted breath. It’s clear the scenario isn’t so much a fabrication of his mind made on the spot as it is  a confession of his own experience, and the thought has the air in her lungs going scarce, as though she’s reached the apex of Mount Everest.

Harry isn’t fending off the heated tension much better, fingers twitching around his cue as he’d rather have her underneath his fingertips instead. He takes one look at the ceiling to stave his yearning some and draws in a deep breath."This is killing me," he whimpers while his lips skim over he skin of her forehead. "Go on, take your damn shot so we can be done with this game."

"It was your idea," she reminds him wryly. All of it, really; coming here, playing pool, playing 20 fucking questions, this heated hodgepodge of salacity and virtuous adoration is all his doing.

"I miscalculated."

"Poor you," y/n gently mocks is disgruntled attitude before scoring another ball, or as she likes to regard, another question, another opportunity to further tease at his already crumbling countenance, "what about you, Harry, do you ever think about me? At work… or otherwise?"

She already knows the first half of the answer and only voiced the double-entendre to rile him up, so she’s quite stunned when he whizzes, "too fucking much fo’ my own good."

The pained expression on his face is almost comical for y/n, she can’t resist probing at his despair, "me too." He groans at the flowing visuals he can’t ban from his filthy mind before she gestures towards the pool table in a gentlemanly way, "and that’s your cue," they both share a chuckle at her silly pun.

If Harry wasn’t so lost in a whirlwind of lustful thoughts, he would revel in the way their intellects seem to dovetail on all fronts; humor, banter, seduction, sincerity, nothing is lost in translation, they seem to talk in the same love language. From teasing digs and dirty innuendos to play on words or heartfelt confessions, they know exactly which frequency to tune in.

"Fuck, I can’t see straight," he laughs as he misses a shot for the second time, and y/n quickly takes over his spot around the pool table. Settle, relax, aim, breathe, shoot; another point to her flawless record. She turns to him, looking intently at his blown irises to stir up the flame already inhabiting them, "was it good?"

"Mind-blowing," he answers without unlocking their eyes, and the whole conversation is starting to get to her too. Her thighs rub against together, knuckles turning white around her cue as she tightens her grip and Harry has to bite his lips to contain a moan. He tries to distract himself by taking his turn in the game, and burst out in laughter when he pockets the ball and y/n cries out, "blue ball in the pocket! I feel like their might be a subliminal message somewhere but I can’t quite put my finger on it"

Once they regain their breath from laughing, tears of joy actually peeling from the corner of their eyes, they go back to staring at each other. It’s Harry’s turn to ask a question, and the anticipation had y/n fidgeting under his consuming gaze. She expects him to bounce back on the previous question, but to her surprise he decides to take a different route, "tell me darlin’, if I were to kneel at your feet and look up that pretty dress right now, what color your lil panties would be?"

The question sounds boyish really, yet instead of rolling her eyes at him, her core clenches around emptiness at the thought of having him between her legs right this moment, "can’t answer that, sorry."

"Oh come on love, you gotta say. Them’s the rules," Harry tries to coax the answer out of her but she’s not budging.

"Sorry, Harry. I’d tell you if there was anything to tell." His eyes widen at her lewd implication, the revelation of just how many layers away she is from being in the nude, coming into light. Damn, he would have gotten much more than a nip-slip.

"Fuck me, I need to sit down for a mo’."

She laughs at his dramatic response before picking up her cue, "you do that, in the mean time…" The rest of her sentence is cut short as she positions herself at the pool table, and the next sound cutting through the humid atmosphere comes from the ball falling into its target.

"Jesus, do you ever miss?"

"I don’t play to lose, Styles," she quips back. "Now, what’s your biggest fantasy? Aside from shagging in the copy-machine room, that is."

Harry takes one step closer, gently backing her against the table with one hand encasing her at either side of her waist. As he towers over her, his ardent look ignites a fire at the pit of y/n’s stomach, flame licking all the way up to her heart and down to her toes. Her core throbs before the words fall out of his supple lips like maple syrup on a stack of fluffy pancakes. "Right now? Bend you over this pool table and have my way with you."

"In front of all this people?"

"What d’you think is stoppin’ me from doin’ it right now?"

"Manners?"

The retort earns her a deep chuckle, as he shakes his head in disbelief, "fuck y/n, I lost my manners the moment you kissed me."

The raw admission sends a shiver down her spine, before she regains her full bearings and pushing his cue against his chest for him to grab, "your turn."

Barely moving from his spot nestled against her, he successfully sends the ball down the drain and doesn’t waste any time before asking in the same sultry voice, "favorite position?"

‘Why are y’asking?"

"Future reference," he announces confident.

"Well in that case, kinda like this…" she brushes against him as she bends over the table, ass jutted out on one side, before adjusting the angle of her cue and aiming for the pocket, "…when everything aligns and it just sinks…" bam, she propels the sphere in one strong hit "…right through." She finishes her demonstration with a score and a suggestive smile, only but one ball left for her to obliterate; the eight ball. "Are you ready to lose, Styles?"

"Dunno, is that your question?"

"Yes. I got everything I want to know already."

"Then I don’t fucking care about losin", s’not the game I wanna play anymore," he trails a finger down the skin of her back, goosebumps erupting at his touch. He is stopped by the tip of her cue pressing at his chest, slowly pushing him back from her space, and his hands meet this air in surrender. She’s got a wicked smile on her lips and a title to uphold after all, "last shot, make it count."

Harry takes the shot hastily, half expecting another miss, but the solid yellow ball disappears into the table’s corner in a vibrant crash. Eyebrows raised and shallow breath, he pivots back towards her, "please tell me this is turnin’ you on s’much as it’s turnin’ me on?"

"Yes," she rubs the exposed skin of his chest, eyes leaving his face to trail down his torso. "I’m just better at hiding it," she brings her lips to his ear, "physically or otherwise apparently." Then she leaves a loud smack on his cheek and goes around the table to sink the last ball standing in the way of her victory. In true y/n fashion, she completes a faultless round with one last graceful hit that leaves Harry transfixed by her dexterity.

"Damn, you are the queen of pool, I’m bowing down to you. Any final question?"

She lays the cue down on the table before coming up to him, "Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Take me back to my place?"

His head falls back on its neck, eyes closing in deliverance, "fuck yeah." This whole night may have been the most intense and rousing foreplay he’s ever experienced, he can’t wait to deliver good on his own promise.

➪ Masterlist