#i fixed it multiple times and the text box still has the little box

[dyinggirldied]

Anticipated until these three are in a room together 😆

[elliesfavflavor]

multiple ding sounds coming from ellie's phone wakes you up from your zoned out situation. "ellie" you call. "babe? its your phone" you speak again. she doesn't seem to hear. you lean towards the buzzing device in curiousity, wondering what was so urgent. its then you furrow your brows in confusion, seeing the notification that doesn't make sense at all. you take the phone, rereading the 'this is the last time i'm gonna cover you up' text under jesse's picture. cover her? what? you unlock your girlfriends phone and click messages, worrying if she had any troubles she couldn't mention you about lately. this has happened before, so that was your guess to this absurd reach. it takes seconds for you to realize the little 'archive' box with '1' symbol on its side, just over jesse's chat. you don't put much thought clicking. she knew everything inside and out of your phone, just as you did. the bizarre thing was that you never noticed that archive section before. was it new..? oh... it was. so was the chat with the girl you certainly don't recognize. you wonder why she didn't tell you about this new friend of hers.not going any further into the phone, you push the off button and place it on the couch next to you. your pupils dilate as the brain regenerates the text under her picture, saying 'okay. miss you though :(' grabbing the phone back as if its going to run away, you enter the chat in one quick motion. not a gesture playing on your face, you scroll and scroll into your girlfriends intimate texts with this stranger. you put the phone back, staring into void and not moving an inch with absolute shock running through your veins. ellie's footsteps coming out of the shower can be heard. she shows up on the living room with outside clothes, drying her wet hair with the towel while looking for her keys. "babe, did jesse call?" she says. "no." you respond, not even taking a glance at her. you still couldn't comprehend what you saw. "uh... he called earlier, i think he needs help with the computer again" she states, tying up her damp hair to a half down facing the mirror. you don't answer. "...i'll be home in an hour or two, yeah?" she makes her way to the couch you're on, placing a kiss on your cheek. she grabs the phone next to you and head the entrance. "i love you" she says bobbing her head, seeking the slightest reaction from you, almost like she's aware of the strange ambiance. you let out a cackle in irony, still not facing her. "yeah, drive safe."

the muffled clicking sound of a key is heard across the room. you're on the same couch you've been sitting before she left. she places the keys on the table, sitting the facing fold of the L couch. if it was a regular night, you'd be babbling about how she shouldn't sit with the outside clothes. it was not a regular night. you eyes were locked on the colorful advertisement playing on the tv, as if you were watching the most thrilling show on earth. "no greeting... at all?" she says with a brow up. "sure, hi." you respond, reaching for the popcorn on your lap, not averting your gaze from the changing colors. her eyes meet the wine you two have been saving for important events. "is something wrong?" leaning her head to the side, she wishes your eyes meet hers. "no, not at all" you tune. "so, uh." the smallest cackle escapes your mouth. "so how was she?" you ask, completely facing her as you grab another popcorn. she froze for a moment, not understanding what you meant. she fixes her posture. "hm?". its clear shes utterly confused."was everything alright with her?" you ask, your voice comes off as if you were actually worried. a forced, mocking smile adorns your face. she stayed silent for a few seconds, the awareness spreading through her body with the fear following after. "what..?" she says hesitantly, her voice shaky. you munch on your popcorn slowly, leaning your head on the couch with that creepy smile remaining. you don't say a word. she knows. she has no way out of this. no lie to tell, nothing to put into words at all. "who... did you talk to jesse?" the trembling in her voice is audible. she stares at you harsh, focused. "how come i.." your eyes meet the ground. "how come i didn't realize what a fucking bitch you were all these time?" you spit as they meet her eyes just back. "hey" she stands, her brows now shaping a mourning look. not wasting a second you hop up, throwing the popcorn bag on your hand to the couch. letting the corn pieces make a mess all over the living room, you head towards the bedroom to grab the already packed suitcase. with tears running down your cheeks, you dodge her grips with swift motions and drag the case loudly across the floor. it was no use, no valid explanation for what she had been doing. "baby, hey" she's calling you from behind. "shut the fuck up" you hiss, your pace fastening towards the entrance. "where do you think you're going?" she reaches you, blocking your way with her hands on your arms. her voice is tense, her gaze is deadly. you don't answer her, your tears almost leaving prints on your face. freeing your hand and taking the key she left on the cabinet near, you push her with your other hand and speed up to the door. "don't! goddamn it." she rushes behind you, blocking your way again. "fucking move!" you shout, your vision is blurry now. she holds your arms tight again, not willing to let go. "just let me catch a fucking breath alright? i'll explain, please" she says desperately, her expression is frantic as shes remaining her grip, shaking you to come to your senses. as if you were the one who should. "no!" you try escaping but shes obviously prepared. between the tries of freeing yourself, your sobs grow audible. you sense the madness washing away with the heartbreak taking over. "no! i don't wanna!" you don't take a glance at her, swaying your arms to free them from her. your body weakening as you look down, and around, as if she's not gonna see your tears if you don't face her. "please, god, just let me explain!" she keeps saying, begging with her eyes. tears roll down on her cheeks, trying to meet the pace of yours. she held you tightly, trying to find anything, any words that could make you stay. "look im sorry! i didn't think it was gonna get this far, i am an idiot!" she sobs, her grip on your arm loosening, as she bats her eyes at you with tears, pleading for forgiveness. your rushed movements ease up, you look down. your voice comes out raspy. "i don't ever, and ever, wanna see you again. do you understand me?" she grabs you again as you reach for the

door handle. "no! wait!" she says desperately "don't go" she cries, holding you tight. "please, just please" she sobs, her body shaking from the rush of emotions she is experiencing. her eyes wet, she tries to wipe a tear without you noticing. "ellie, move." your voice is calm yet demanding. "n..no" she refuses. "please i can't lose you... i don't want.." she tries to from words. "lets work this out... please." you try to sound decent as you speak up "w...how could you do this? what were you thinking? why? how did this happen, where did you find her, since when? i don't get it ellie, why?" she froze again with your words. she felt her throat getting clogged with the urge to cry, her eyes filling with tears again. her brain wasn't working, all she could think of was excuses and explanations, but she couldn't find the correct words. her grip loosens again, her fingers loosening and falling. she's still processing what she feels, unable to respond, unable to say anything. "that's what i thought" you say. with tears rushing back again, you push her and bang the door on her face. you left the suitcase behind.

[knifebaby3000]

Your OC Tian looks like he could he my OCs brother and I'm so obsessed with him. The beauty marks and the oblivious glazed over look really fucking do it for me

can u share more about him :0c

Omg thank you so much!!!!! I designed Tian to be so extremely husband-coded To Me so I'm happy some of the boxes he checks 4 me ✅ are checked 4 u also ✅🙏🏼

Tian (and Zhu) is the protagonist of two of my projects, the original and its overgrown AU. The OG is........ A xianxia romcom bildungsroman like....... Swan-maiden myth meets FFIX meets Disney Hercules.......... And the AU is what I usually draw/upload, which is a neo noir like...... FFVIII meets........ Drive (2011)....... Meets........... Disco Elysium which is a connection I'm only making right here, right now, as I type?????? Anyway OG-style Baby T is "tiger", "spring", vs Big T who is "dragon", "winter". Both are True Neutral tho I think Baby T leans Chaotic...

Some quick blips: Cap sun, Aries moon, Taurus rising, bday is 31 Dec; 6'2 188cm, ~190lbs 86kg, benches above his bodyweight; vegetarian, doesn't drink, healthiest guy you know (chainsmoking is healthy); blue MCR-coded tobacco depression wifeguy to Zhu’s red LDR-coded cocaine mania guywife

Charm points: natural curls, beauty marks, underbite

Talents: carpentry, wushu, gymnastics, fixing whatever

Likes: Zhu, tofu, his motorcycle

Dislikes: texting, cardio, doing laundry

Songs: MCR – Drowning Lessons + Fashion Statement + Desert Song (it's bad!!!!!!), The National – Walk Off, Hyukoh – 似是故人來 Like An Old Friend Arrives

Motifs: chrysanthemums, smoke, temples, the moon

Not really a talker, he's all abt acts of service and can be hard to understand if you're looking specifically for words. I like to think of him as the lead in a Western film except the horse is a black motorbike – silhouetted against the horizon, never says more than he has to, does what needs doing. His catchphrase is basically "🆗", "Sure." Also he doesn't use guns but anything else goes 🔨

Some flavor:

More under the cut if this hateful app will let me add one 🤪

I think he's best understood thru the way other ppl talk abt him – so here are a couple names/epithets!

His maternal grandmother is a distinguished mobster known as The Old Empress, which is why most ppl call Tian "Crown Prince", "the Prince", etc. Their family is more/less popularly-elected local deities (see "city god" on Wikipedia) and he's the last of the bloodline But has been refusing to officially inherit for over a decade, though he performs all the duties anyway. Old, old agreements put them above virtually all modern law, generally thru loopholes that allow them to, for example, literally start a gang war at 23 bc you got a little too annoyed Or take an eye for an eye/publicly execute someone as ritual vengeance. Pls note that Zhu is a criminal defense attorney. Smile

They also sometimes call him "Bodhisattva" bc he, due to Circumstances, grew up in a Buddhist monastery from age 8, along with Jin, his baby brother. He became an ordained monk at 20 but disrobed at 22 so he could help Jin thru university. During that time, he worked three primary jobs: seasonal construction worker/contractor, auto mechanic, and plumber. "why not model" No Vanities Lifestyle. He Is Just Some Guy. He Wishes He Were Still Bald. Fuck Fast Fashion Btw.

With his name specifically, Tian Tian, family name 田 “field” + given name 天 “heaven/day/sky” is his entire character – simple, no frills, unassuming on paper, but also strong, steady, salt of the earth. It's a name that once you see him both does and doesn't do him justice, like surely there's something fancier and yet between those two characters you already have the world. The name is also 9 strokes altogether! Fav number and an auspicious one – 9 heavens + if you've ever seen an imperial dragon robe, it's 9 dragons with scales in multiples of 9, eg 81.

A few bonus reasons I chose 天:

I associate him with swans (symbol of beauty but also violent, aggressive birds), 大天鹅 Big Heaven Goose

Single-character names are so elegant/Tough to me

Canonically seen as a "Fifth Great Beauty", literally a man named Heaven, the H is for Husband TO ME

FACT I decided on the monk thing after I named him and I think it's funny. His Dharma name is 釋恒心 Shi Hengxin btw which means "monk", literally, and "resolution"

Final bonus, literally my man:

[fafnirsden]

THE p4 Twitter discourse is making the rounds again (you know the one) and one of the things that keep bothering me about how this is talked about is that there seems to be a disconnect between people taking the writer's intent at face value and people who disregard the intended arc entirely? This might sound odd but esp regarding Naoto gender discourse the fallback line seems to be that Naoto ultimately identifies as a girl and that's fine and good for real people but gives Naoto a degree of agency that she does not have because she's a fictional character. The thing that people are criticising is the writing decision real people made to conclude her arc that way, not Naoto's self identification - Naoto can't identify as anything, she has no thoughts outside of those given to her by the writers. And on the flipside, criticising Naoto's arc for the (likely unintended) transphobic implication lets it off the hook for also mishandling the workplace sexism angle they were actually going for (cont below cut)

If you take the game at its word for what each of the character arcs are supposed to be about, then the game has a whole character who is forced to take on a more masculine persona (pun not intended) to be taken seriously because of sexism but this is all in a game that continuously does sexist pervy comedy routines. Including to Naoto! If you're trying to make a point about how sexism is bad, maybe don't force the character in question into a swimsuit beauty pageant where she feels humiliated and uncomfortable as a joke?

Maybe Kanji isn't attracted to men and people shouldn't make assumptions about his sexuality because of his interests. Okay. Good point, you shouldn't do that. But what's the implication here when you look at moments like the camping trip tent scene where Yosuke treats him like a sexual predator for just being in the same tent (while Yosuke himself actually creeps on the girls during the same trip, which is just taken as funny despite being actual sexual harassment. Amazing stuff.)? There's multiple scenes like this, it happens during the pick up contest too where it's part of the comedy of uncomfortable situations that happen to Yosuke that Kanji starts blushing from being pressed up to him on the scooter. Like this is all still homophobic even if Kanji is straight and "hey don't assume people are gay based on stereotypes they might not be and then it would be bad if you put them in a box like that" is a good point in theory but not when you're also kinda implying that gay men are a danger to other men or that treating them as such is just an understandable funny reaction.

As much of a deal as people make about the cut Yosuke romance, him being closeted wouldn't fix how vile he is to his friends without consequences. It maybe explains it a little but that still means you're left with a game that constantly disregards sexual harassment as just a goofy thing your silly fun guy friends do.

If it wasn't clear I'm ultimately more sympathetic to people critical of p4's writing about gender and sexuality (and I didn't even talk about the fat girl. christ.) but I also don't think it's helpful to superimpose a more progressive version of the game where every character is actually queer and then critique the game for not delivering on that version. You can headcanon whatever you want ofc (Naoto's canon gender is such a mess you could tell me anything about what you think their gender is and I'd probably nod along) but I think it muddies the water on discussing the actual text when you loose track of the distinction here. And like. I get it p4 has a lot of stuff to like. I'm still fond of p4 in spite of all of this. But how depressing for actual queer media to see how much time people spend on inventing a gayer version of p4.

Especially when the actual solution is obviously to shoot Yosuke into the sun /j

[awkwardpenguinproductions]

@i-aint-even-bovvered : that happened to our Rabbi last year, Poppa Penguin was in town and we were in the car on the way to services when we got the notification. She was able to lead services over Zoom and everything worked out, but that was definitely a A Time. Hope your Rabbi gets well soon!

@meirmakesstuff : you’re telling me, and it’s not even over yet!

This got long, so update under the cut!

An Update:

So I head outside to watch the power guy do his thing, since I’m doing anything productive and it’s a really nice day out. I’ve got instructions from my Facilities VP (whom I am learning Admin stuff under, since he pulled double duty for a little over a year before I was hired) to find out the cause of the outage, and I let the power guy know that I’d like a word when he’s done and then make myself comfy on a nearby bench. He does something arcane with the transformer box and then gets on the phone.

And stays on the phone.

Twenty minutes and a bit into this, a couple of guys who had been renovating the space next to my Temple come over and watch.

Power guy is still on the phone, while doing yet even more mysterious stuff to the transformer box.

The porch light above my bench suddenly turns on!

And just as suddenly flickers out again.

WTF? I wonder, and amble over to the guys who look like they’re about to walk away. I introduce myself, and ask if they know what’s going on.

Now, power guy has been and still is on the phone this entire time, but one of the bystanders says that he’s pretty sure that something shorted out underground. He can’t be certain though, because again, power guy has been on the phone the entire time and has not otherwise spoken a word to anyone after I left him to do his thing, but that’s what Mr. Bystander thinks and I have no reason not to believe him.

What Mr. Facilities VP said was only supposed to take half an hour has now turned into something that is going to take multiple hours to fix.

“Whelp,” says I, and after thanking the dude I turn to go sit back on my bench and update Rabbi and Mr. Facilities VP.

No sooner have I turned my heel that a wild Rabbi appears!

I give her an update—power still out and unlikely to be fixed any time soon; no wifi, so no printer available; copying is a maybe if it hasn’t yet run out of juice—and we head inside. She asks me to help her find some stones for Tashlich, and after rooting around our Education Office I find a whole big grocery bag of little decorative rocks. Rabbi finds more of the same in a former nuts container in her office, and apparently we won’t need to get more Tashlich stones for a few years, so yay!

As this is happening, and unbeknownst to me, power guy is closing up the transformer box and packing up his truck. I only realize that anything’s happening when he drives by Rabbi’s office window— twice.

“Okay, maybe he’s just moving the truck,” says I, and I tell Rabbi that I’m going to put my stuff in my car, corner the power guy to get some answers to Mr. Facilities VP’s questions, and then head out because it’s not like I’m going to get anything else done today. She’s like, “okay, sounds good”, so off I go.

And the power guy is gone. The transformer box is closed up nice and neat, and his truck is nowhere to be seen.

“Well damn,” says I, as Rabbi walks out the door to her car. We shrug at each other and get in our cars, I text Mr. Facilities VP to let him know what’s up, and then head off into the wild blue yonder to do assorted penguin things.

As I’m driving home, I get this text from Mr. Facilities VP:

Time to repair electricity is by 11pm tonight.

And the sanctuary still hasn’t been set up.

🙃

27 Hours and 15 Minutes to Erev Rosh Hashanah:

1) the sanctuary is not set up for services

2) THE POWER IS OUT IN THE TEMPLE

😱😱😱

There is literally nothing I can do about either of these things, and being at work while I cannot even access work stuff (wifi is out too) to distract me is stressing me out, so if the power is not fixed in 38 minutes or less, I am leaving.

[naughtyneganjdm]

Caught in the Middle - Chapter 1

Summary: Daryl Dixon finds himself head over heels for the new teacher at the local high school that he works at, but she has eyes for Negan.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Daryl Dixon, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33634642/chapters/83581864

Warnings: Swearing, etc.

Notes: This is going to be another short story. I'm going to attempt to keep the chapters shorter so I can get through this story pretty fast. I was talking to a friend about something and this idea kind of came to me. I know it's kind of different, but I plan on switching POVs frequently so Daryl is not the main character of this story. There are three main characters. Negan, Daryl and Y/N. Hopefully you guys like it!

Y/N means your name or whatever name you want to put in there!

There weren’t a lot of things in the world that caught Daryl Dixon’s attention. For the most part, he had closed himself off in general. After the life he had growing up, he had become cold to things in the world. He’d get up, go to work, head home, sleep and then repeat. So, for someone to really catch his attention was a pretty big deal. Especially since Daryl wasn’t one for relationships or being attracted to people. Relationships were too much work and he just didn’t have the patience for them. Well, that was until someone new arrived at work. After that, it kind of changed everything for him. Which surprised the hell out of him, but he looked forward to every minute he got to spend with this new person.

Daryl was the auto shop teacher at the local high school. Was it a cool job? Fuck no. Was he good at it? Probably not as good as he could have been, but he was good at fixing things. When he was younger teaching was not something he would have ever pictured himself doing. Hell, he wasn’t exactly the most social person, so to say it was a struggle sometimes would be a massive understatement.  

When a friend offered him a job after an I owe you situation, Daryl quickly snagged that shit up. He would have been stupid to not take this job. With his background, he was lucky to have a job as it was. Every day, he would go to work and just do what he had to in order to get through the day. He never really got close to the other teachers, but he observed from afar. Watching people and learning things without being a part of them was something Daryl had become good at. The students liked him well enough, but it wasn’t like he was trying to make friends or be everyone’s favorite. He just did what he had to do and that was it. Going above and beyond was not Daryl’s style.  

A few months ago, a new teacher had transferred to their school and Daryl felt like they kind of immediately hit it off. They had literally run into each other in the hallway on her first day when she was lost. Daryl was coming out of his classroom looking at his phone and nearly knocked her over onto the floor. When he caught her, there was something about her smile that had caught his attention. When she had asked him for a tour of the school, he was eager to do it. Not that he was very good at it. Daryl was never a man of many words, but around Y/N he found himself opening up more and more. That was the nice thing about this girl. She made him step out of the box and be something more than he usually was.

Every day the two of them would find time to talk to each other and he relished in every moment of it. It became something where he started looking forward to going to work. He was excited to wake up every day. It was all because of her and the weekends were the worst because he didn’t actually get to see her. They texted each other, but the weekdays had become his favorite thing.

An overwhelmed breath fell from his throat when he looked over his shoulder after hearing the group of loud, boisterous laughter filling the bar that he was in. This was new for him. A lot of the teachers would get together some nights at the local bar to hang out. Of course, there were certain groups that liked to hang out more often than not. The source of the laughter stemmed from the staff favorite, Negan Smith. For some reason, every person seemed to love Negan. He always drew the attention of people and people found him hilarious. Daryl found him to be juvenile and somewhat annoying himself, but somehow, Negan was always the person people drifted to. Even being an asshole, all the students loved him as well as the teachers. Negan was the life of the party and very much the opposite of Daryl. Hell, Daryl didn’t even want to be here, but he was because he wanted to see Y/N. That’s really why he was there. It was the one time they would get together outside of work and Daryl loved being around her outside of a work setting.

Turning back toward the bar, Daryl reached out for the neck of his beer bottle and slid the bottle in front of him. It made him wonder if Y/N was actually coming tonight. Usually she would be here by now. When the laughter seemed to get louder, Daryl grumbled to himself and lowered his head. This wasn’t Daryl’s kind of scene and each moment he spent there proved that more and more.  

“Forget this,” Daryl got up from the stool and started pushing into his pockets to look for his money until he felt the sensation of someone nudging him.

“You leaving this early?” Y/N muttered when Daryl looked to her with his big blue eyes. A tiny grin expanded over his features and he immediately shook his head. Was he getting up to leave? Yes, but with her here he would reconsider that. Pulling out the stool beside him for her, Daryl felt his heart skip a beat in his chest when she moved in beside him. “Sorry I took so long. I got caught up at school checking some papers. I would have gotten it done earlier, but someone came to talk to me for a while so that kept there a little longer than I would have liked to have been there.”

“You finish everything then?” Daryl confirmed and she gave a nod before ordering herself a drink. Truthfully, he didn’t care why she was late. He was just happy to see her. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah, it was pretty nice,” she answered with a simple shrug. “What about yourself?”

“Oh yeah, it was great,” Daryl lied and her eyebrows arched in curiosity when he said that. A nervous laugh fell from his throat and he shrugged.

“Oh really?” she chuckled, thanking the bartender when he came back with her drink.

“Okay, so it was just like every other day. Until now,” Daryl reached for his beer and swallowed down the last bit that was left in there. “Now that you’re here, it’s pretty great. You could brighten any mundane day for me Y/N. You know that.”

“You are so sweet,” she reached out to hook her arm around his shoulders to give him a hug and his face flushed over when she pulled away. “That was smooth. That was real smooth.”

“Well, that’s me. Mr. Smooth,” Daryl brushed his fingers through his hair to straighten it out. “But you are pretty cool. You’re the most interesting thing in this town. I tell you that.”

“And that’s why you’re my best friend here. Even if it’s not true, you are always saying things to make me smile,” she reached out to place her hand over his and she gave it a firm squeeze. “You’ve been the best to me since I transferred here. You’re the greatest. You know that?”

“Yeah?” Daryl was happy to hear that. At some point he was genuinely hoping the best friend label would progress into more, but right now he was okay with settling with that title. Just getting to be with her was more than enough right now. He didn’t want to push too hard or too fast. “I’m only saying what I believe Y/N.”

“We know I am so far from being the most interesting thing here,” she denied his statement while she took a sip of her drink that she had gotten. When the noise from the group in the back filled the bar again, they both looked back. The other teachers at the school were surrounding a pool table and Negan was obviously playing against one of the others. “You know, we should do that one day. Play a round of pool. I’m actually really good at it. We should do teams. You and I could go up against Simon and Negan.”

“Oh, yeah,” Daryl rolled his eyes, turning himself back toward the bar while she kept her eyes on the game that they were playing. “That’s really not my thing. Putting myself into the thick of that. I have no interest in being part of that group.”

“They aren’t so bad,” she suggested and Daryl looked to see to see that her focus was still locked on them. Looking over his shoulder, Daryl noticed that Negan had lifted his head and his eyes connected with hers. With an arrogant bob of his head and a bright smile, Negan gave Y/N a wink. Looking to Y/N after Negan did it, Daryl could see that it made her smile and her face flushed over. “I think you would enjoy yourself at times if you opened yourself up to it. The people at the school would really like you.”

“No one had interest in me before you were here and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t now either,” Daryl retorted with a snort when he looked back again to notice that Negan and Y/N were still staring at each other. Someone grabbed a hold of Negan to get his attention and Daryl felt his body tensing up over the moment he just witnessed. “They really aren’t that interesting Y/N. Plus, I’m not all that good at pool.”

“Well, I have a table at my home. One day you can come over and I could teach you some tricks,” she offered up, her eyes finally meeting his again. The air around them was cool and Daryl didn’t know if the chill filling his body was that or the jealousy of that stare between her and Negan.  

“That would be really cool. I’ve yet to be at your house yet you know,” Daryl reminded her and Y/N gave him a shifty look. “Well, I’ve dropped you off…”

“And I’ve asked you if you wanted to come in multiple times to hang out. Every time you turn me down,” she pointed out and he knew that he didn’t want to come in because he was afraid that he would do something stupid. It had been a long time since he was interested in someone. He didn’t want to make a mistake that made this girl leave his life forever. “You know you are welcome at my place any day. You at least know where I live. I don’t even know where you live.”

“Well, it’s not a nice place where I live,” Daryl explained with a frown knowing that he lived with his deadbeat brother. Most of the time Merle wasn’t there, but he didn’t want the one day she would come over to be one of the few times Merle came over. With his mouth, Daryl was sure that Merle would scare Y/N away forever. “It’s kind of a mess. You deserve to be in places better than that.”

“I don’t care what your place looks like. You’re my friend and I would like to spend time with you other than being here sometimes. You know that,” she professed with a shake of her head, reaching out to place her hand over his arm. “I’m not the kind of person that cares what your place looks like. I like you for you.”

“I think you’re the only person in the world that has ever said something like that to me,” Daryl confessed and he watched her roll her eyes. Obviously, she thought he was joking, but he wasn’t. That’s what was sad. No one had ever been as nice to him as she had been. How couldn’t he like this girl? She was one of the only people he had ever met that didn’t make him feel like a deadbeat or a waste of space. “You think I’m kidding?”

“Who wouldn’t like you Daryl?” she gave him a confused expression and he didn’t know how to answer that. “There is a lot of good to you.”

“The world never made me feel that way,” Daryl informed her with a weak smile before waving to order himself another drink.

“Well then the world needs to take another look. You need to throw yourself out there Daryl. You don’t have to be this loner for the rest of your life, you know?” she insisted with a shake of her head. “You deserve to be happy, just like everyone else.”

“Where did you come from?” Daryl sighed wishing like hell this girl would have dropped into his life sooner.

“You know where I came from,” she hesitantly laughed and then turned in her seat to look back at the rest of the group behind them again. “Truth be told Daryl; I like it here a lot more than I did at the old school I worked at. People here are more like family. They are friendlier. They don’t always seem like they are out to stab you in the back. People are willing to help and make you feel at home.”

“You must be talking to people I don’t know,” Daryl explained with a groan, turning on his seat to look at the crowded bar behind him.

“You don’t talk to people Daryl,” she replied with a silly glance and Daryl grunted while taking a sip of his beer. “You wouldn’t have even talked to me if I wouldn’t have run right into you on my first day here. It took me almost breaking something for you to actually talk to me.”

“Regardless,” Daryl knew what these people were like and he had no interest. No one really caught his attention or made it seem like they deserved his respect. In his opinion, most of the people at the school just liked the attention they could get. That was it. Noticing the way that Negan looked over his shoulder at stole another glance at Y/N made Daryl bite into his bottom lip. “Who did you talk to today after work?”

“What?” she muttered and Daryl could see that her attention was somewhere else and he frowned. Daryl reached out to nudge her arm and it took a second before she shook off to look over at him. “It was Negan. He’s funny. The two of us have been talking a bit over the last few weeks. The guy really likes to cook and he was bragging about his food about a month ago. Offered me some and every few days he is always bringing in things for me to try that he made. Today it was a raspberry danish that he made.”

“Oh, the guy is a good cook too, huh?” Daryl snorted, his eyes rolling when he thought about Negan and how everyone found the guy pretty much fucking perfect. Then again, he found himself super jealous at the idea of the two of them talking. Why had Y/N never mentioned the fact that her and Negan had been talking? “You know, you shouldn’t be taking food from strangers.”

“Oh come on,” she laughed, her eyebrows creasing with amusement when she gave her attention fully to Daryl. “Negan is not a stranger. I work with him and if something bad happened to me from the food, I’m not the only one he gives his food too.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re not,” Daryl scoffed at the idea, turning away in disgust from the rest of the people from work.

“What is it with you and Negan?” she pondered, sliding in beside Daryl elbowing him playfully while Daryl kept his head down.

“What is it with you and Negan?” Daryl repeated her question with an emphasis on the word you. His eyes narrowed and she stole another glance back over her shoulder at Negan.

“Okay, fine,” she let out a long exhale of air, lowering her head. It took a minute and she reached for her drink to quickly finish it off as if to gain courage to tell him what she wanted to say. “Since you’re you…I won’t lie to you, but you have to keep your mouth shut about it.”

Instead of saying anything, Daryl stared out at her with his confused blue eyes while her right hand spun in the air trying to come up with the right words to say, “I kind of have a crush on Negan. I know it’s silly since we’re adults and using that word is so juvenile, but I don’t know. I just find him so charming and he makes me laugh. When he smiles, I just find myself smiling, you know? Those dimples are gorgeous and he’s got a wicked sense of humor.”

“You are crushing on him?” Daryl restated what she had just said and she hushed him. Disappointment filled his entire body and his face felt exceedingly hot. An ache developed at the center of his chest and he had to pull his eyes away from her. It hurt way too much to even hear that from her. Especially since he had the biggest crush on her and yearned for more. Flicking his bar napkin aside, he rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Of course you like Negan. Everyone likes Negan.”

“What do you mean?” she tilted her head to the side noticing that Daryl no longer seemed to want to look at her. It made things a little uncomfortable because that wasn’t the reaction she thought she would get for being honest with her friend.

“I mean it makes sense that you would be like everyone else. Negan is the cool guy. The jock. The person that everyone drifts toward,” Daryl stated with a scoff hating that of all the people she liked, it was Negan. “I just thought you were a little more interesting than that.”

“Ouch,” she reached up to place her hand over the center of her chest, feigning like he hurt her with her words. “Where did that come from?”

“I just thought you were different than most people. Everyone sees Negan and their eyes just light up. He eats the attention up and people just attract to him like flies to bug zapper,” Daryl ranted hating that his jealousy was getting the better of him, but it was. “When I met you, I just thought you were someone who was attracted to something different. Like you said, you like people for who they are.”

“Just because I have a silly crush on someone doesn’t mean I’m not the same person that is your friend. You and I have gotten super close over the last few months. I think you know me better than anyone else does here,” she pointed out, hating to hear him saying the things that he was. “I just like the way that he makes me feel, you know?”

“And you’re attracted to him,” Daryl snorted knowing that there was no doubt that she was attracted to his looks by all the times he had caught her staring at Negan with heart eyes tonight. “You’re right…I know you better than anyone else here and I can promise you that you deserve better than Negan. No matter how much you love the fucking dimples.”

“Negan would never even look twice at me Daryl,” she talked down on herself and Daryl found himself upset that she would even do that. Talking illy of herself to bring up Negan made him just pissed off. “Look at him, he’s just so good looking and then there is me.”

“What was in this drink?” Daryl reached for her glass to look it over and he gave her a disgusted face when she said that. “You are fucking beautiful. I can’t believe you said that because you are absolutely gorgeous. Not only that, but you are super cool. Why wouldn’t someone like you? There is nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect.”

“Except for the fact that I crush on Negan which makes me just like everyone else,” she proclaimed, stating what he had said previously and it made him bite down on his bottom lip. Clearly it upset her that he compared her to everyone else just because she liked Negan.

“I’m just saying, with what I know about you I don’t think Negan would be your type. You take work seriously and Negan…I don’t think serious is even a word in his vocabulary,” Daryl complained about Negan knowing that he still was so upset that she was crushing on what he would consider the popular guy. God, life was still so much like high school and he hated it. He felt like a teenager instead of being a teacher that actually worked at a high school. “Like, he totally got fucking fired from this job a while back. You know that?”

“How?” her face wrinkled up in surprise when Daryl said that.

“It was like a year before his wife died,” Daryl clarified and he could see the sadness that flooded in over Y/N’s features when she heard him say that. “You didn’t know that his wife died?”

“No. No one ever mentioned that to me,” she answered honestly knowing that it wasn’t something a lot of people would open with so it made sense that she didn’t know about Negan’s late wife.  “What did she die from?”

“She got pancreatic cancer,” Daryl responded with frustration hating the way that she was looking at Negan now. Visibly it made her like Negan more and he damned himself for even saying it. “Him and his wife were at this bar one day. They got into an argument with a guy and Negan beat the fuck out of a guy here. The guy said something nasty to his wife, but he beat the guy almost to death. It was one of the student’s parents, so he ended up getting fired. Was on probation and everything. Then they found out about his wife being sick and dying. They felt bad for him and the community kind of got together to get him his job back to help take care of his wife. Who gets that fucking lucky, huh? Most people that almost beat someone to death don’t usually get people helping them like that. I can promise you when most people make mistakes, it follows them around for the rest of their lives.”

“Damn, he’s been through a lot then, hasn’t he?” she turned further in her chair to look back at Negan who was still playing a game of pool. “You wonder how he continues to be so positive and outgoing when he went through all of that.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Daryl groaned upon hearing her say that and he could see that the story upset her. Empathizing with Negan over that story made him so angry to hear that. That wasn’t the kind of response he was expecting her. When he told her that he almost beat a guy to death, he thought she would look down on Negan. “He beat the hell out of some guy Y/N.”

“You said the guy he beat said something nasty to his wife. He was defending his wife’s honor,” she filled in the details and Daryl let out a frustrated exhale. “If someone said something bad about someone that you cared about, wouldn’t you do the same?”

“That’s beside the point,” Daryl reached to grab a hold of Y/N’s wrists to get her to look at him. “When I was a kid I lived with my older brother and my dad. My dad was always so drunk that he never got up. We didn’t have food. My brother was always gone and I was starving. People knew what my family was like, but they saw trash when they looked at me. I stole food in order to survive because I had nothing. Do you know what happened to me? I didn’t get a slap on the wrists and told to be a good boy. That stuff stuck with me my whole life. I wasn’t that poor kid that lived in a bad situation, I was that awful little boy that was a thief. No one felt bad for me.”

“Well that makes those people terrible Daryl. You were a little boy that needed help and instead they turned their head away,” she reached out to wrap her fingers around his to give them a firm squeeze. “I think…we all have our own stories. You know? There are things that I’ve…gone through. Horrible things and we all wish there was someone there that could have saved us. You know?”

“What does that mean?” Daryl saw the way she swallowed down hard and he tried to reach out to touch her, but she held her hand up to keep him from doing so in that moment. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing, I’m just saying,” she reflected the question and waved for the bartender to get her something else to drink. “Sometimes it’s nice to hear that people did what they did for Negan. I don’t usually have a lot of faith in the world, so when you hear that a community came together to help a man to help him care for his dying wife it makes you feel better about things.”

“Right,” Daryl stammered knowing that what she had just blown off made him think there were things about her that she didn’t tell him about. Now she wasn’t so much an open book, but someone who evidently had their secrets they kept to themselves. Daryl watched her toss back the drink she had gotten and he could see that their discussion had changed her a bit. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m going to go use the restroom,” she pointed over Daryl’s shoulder toward the ladies’ room and Daryl felt like he should say something to comfort her when she stood up. Something had changed in her beautiful features and he was just never very good at this stuff. With her getting ready to leave, he felt himself choking up at the idea of trying to make her feel better. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” Daryl didn’t know what the hell to say as she moved around him toward the bathroom. Tapping his hands against the top of the bar again, he tried to gather in his mind what he was going to say to her when she came back.

“Daryl!” a loud voice boomed in beside him as he felt the warmth of a body moving near him. Turning his head unhurriedly, he saw that Negan had slid in beside him and Negan’s bright smile ate up most of his face. “You are just the man I wanted to talk to.”

“Why?” Daryl scowled hating to hear a statement like that.

“How are you doing today buddy? Can I buy you a drink or something?” Negan offered attempting to call out to the bartender.

“I have a beer,” Daryl nodded toward his drink and Negan’s right eyebrow raised. Having Negan coming over to him and act like he wanted to speak to him felt weird. It certainly felt out of place. “What do you want Negan?”

“Wow. You’re a man that gets straight to the point, huh?” Negan snickered before calling over the bartender to get himself a drink. When he was done, Daryl cocked his head to the side almost waiting for Negan to speak up.

“Well, considering you’ve never had an interest in talking to me before you undoubtedly want something,” Daryl suggested making Negan’s eyes narrow out at him and Negan bit at his bottom lip. “So, what is it?”

“That’s kind of bullshit Daryl,” Negan retorted with a grunt, his eyes still hooked on Daryl’s when he reached for his drink that the bartender brought. “I’ve asked you plenty of times if you wanted to join us in a round of drinks back there or if you wanted to play some pool. You’re the one that always says no. I just assumed you wanted to stick to yourself and shit after about the fifth time of asking you.”

“Well that was a smart deduction. I’m surprised you came up with it,” Daryl snorted making Negan laugh in response after Daryl said that.

“Wow, look at the smartassery on you,” Negan seemed impressed with Daryl instead of being offended by what Daryl actually said. “Here I was thinking you were this quiet guy, but you’ve got some bite to you. I fucking like it Daryl. You should use that spicy ass attitude more often. Good for you man.”

There was nothing Daryl could say to respond to that, so instead Daryl found himself laughing as Negan reached out to pat Daryl on the back in delight, “Here I was thinking you would get fucking offended and leave me alone.”

“It takes a lot to offend me since I really don’t give a flying fuck what people think about me,” Negan assured Daryl with a wiggle of his brow. Reaching for his drink, Negan swallowed it down before slamming the glass down on top of the bar with a wince. “I actually wanted to talk to you about the new girl. I saw that the two of you were close. Are you dating? Or are you just like really good buds? Because honestly, I’m really fucking interested in her. I was thinking of letting her know I was interested, but if you two are together I don’t want to fuck that up. So I figured I would ask.”

All of Daryl wanted to tell Negan that he was dating her so that way that Daryl could have Y/N to himself. Turning away from Negan to reach for his beer, Daryl debated on what to say. God, he like Y/N so much, but at the same time he knew how much he cared about her. With her just admitting to Daryl that she had huge crush on Negan, Daryl found his heart tangled with what it should do. Taking a minute, Daryl’s eyes lifted toward the ladies’ restroom and he shook his head.

“We’re not dating,” Daryl was honest with Negan while shifting on the seat so he could look at Negan with his intense blue eyes. There was an excitement that flooded Negan’s face when Daryl said that and Daryl was damning himself for even attempting to be a good person in this situation. He wanted to be greedy. He wanted to be an asshole, but he knew that he really liked Y/N and her being happy was worth more than his own happiness. “In fact, I think if you were honest with her, she would be fucking thrilled.”

“Why is that?” Negan inquired with an arch of his thick eyebrow.

“Because she has the biggest crush on you,” Daryl told her secret, but he knew by telling Negan that would help her get something that made her happy in the end. The amusement that flooded Negan’s features made Daryl feel like the biggest loser on the planet. Instead of telling the woman he was in love with that he cared about her, he was telling the guy that she had a crush on that she liked him. Who the fuck did that? “I found that out tonight. So, there you go.”

“So, you’re okay with this?” Negan stammered with a bob of his head while speaking with a big, pearly white smile. When Daryl nodded he knew that Negan was pleased with his answer. Cussing to himself, Daryl hated him himself. So much. Why would he do that? A moment later he heard Negan let out an enthusiastic breath. “Well speak of the devil, look who it is! We were just talking about you.”

“Negan!” Daryl closed his eyes hearing the way that Y/N said Negan’s name. It was the sound of someone that was pleasantly surprised with their guest being there. “I hope it was only good things that you were talking about.”

“Is there any other way to talk about you?” Negan flirted and Daryl silently groaned to himself when Negan moved over to make room for Y/N back at the bar. Glancing beside him, Daryl could see that Negan was still rather close to her while they sat next to each other. “I was happy to see you walk in here. I thought you weren’t coming tonight.”

“Well, someone made me late to checking my tests,” she reminded Negan and Negan snorted upon hearing her say that. “If it wasn’t for that person, I may have been here sooner rather than later.”

“My fault,” Negan placed his hand over the center of his chest and their eyes were hooked on each other. “I was worried that maybe my danish made you feel sick.”

“Quite the opposite actually, I think it put me in a better mood today,” she complimented Negan and Daryl found himself irritated that he had now become the third wheel. Before Negan was there, she actually acknowledged his existence, but with Negan sitting beside her Daryl realized that he may as well had been invisible. “I was hoping you would be bringing me more tomorrow.”

“See, now you’re getting greedy,” Negan teased with a cock of his head and a big, goofy smile. Daryl watched Negan while he interacted with Y/N and Daryl wished he had half of the confidence along with charisma that Negan did. “I bring you something out of the kindness of my heart and now you’re going to start expecting it.”

“It’s a compliment really,” she smiled, caressing her fingers over the back of her neck in a nervous swipe while her and Negan went back and forth. “It says you did a really good job making it and I think you’re a fantastic baker slash cook.”

“Well thank you,” Negan chuckled while he looked her over with his hazel eyes. “If it means getting to see you smile if even for a few minutes every day, I will happily bring you anything that I make.”

“Since you’re so big on sharing you should let me try it someday,” Daryl finally spoke up when they both had seemed to forget that he was there. Negan’s smile slowly faded when his eyes pulled to Daryl’s. “I mean she was gushing about your cooking skills earlier today.”

“Absolutely Daryl, I’d loved for you to try my danish,” Negan replied with a smirk and in the moment Daryl realized how awkward the whole statement actually sounded. Y/N’s laughter filled the air and Negan looked to Y/N with an amused expression. “You’re a fucking perv missy.”

“I’m sorry, the way you just said that at him felt so suggestive,” she waved her hand in the air trying to get herself to stop laughing. Daryl was embarrassed, Negan was entertained. “You can’t tell me you didn’t say it like that to not be…suggestive as hell.”

“Daryl’s a decent looking fella, I wouldn’t be embarrassed to being suggestive with him,” Negan threw his hand up in the air and she laughed harder, her hand reaching out to place over Negan’s chest. God, she even wanted to touch Negan. When Daryl would make her laugh, she was nothing like this. “You think I’m joking? I’m not. I’m not embarrassed.”

“Well at least you’re bold and honest,” she claimed before finally looking to Daryl who seemed less than enthusiastic with everything that was going on. “Without being perverted, I think you would really like his actual danish. I was surprised it wasn’t store bought.”

“Hey now, it tastes better than the store stuff,” Negan grumbled under his breath and once again before Daryl could respond Negan had her full attention again. “You can’t compare my freshly baked goods to something you would buy at a supermarket that has been sitting there for days.”

“Oh, my mistake,” she giggled and Negan reached for her to give her a big hug in his arms after they had their playful little bickering match. God, Negan was so brave. It was something that Daryl would have never done, but she didn’t seem to hate it at all.

“Do y’all want to come over and play a game with us?” Negan pointed over toward the pool table and she looked to Daryl with big eyes. It was obvious she wanted to play, but Daryl was still at a point where he had no interest. Negan was already so much better than him at pretty much everything, he didn’t want Negan to outdo him in pool too. “We’d love to have you over there.”

“Go ahead, I’ll watch from here,” Daryl offered to her seeing that she seemed upset that Daryl didn’t want to come. “I’m kind of tired and I’m not much of a pool player. So I wouldn’t be that much fun anyways.”

“Well, why don’t you just come over there and talk with a few of the other teachers? You can be near the table while I absolutely destroy Y/N,” Negan urged Daryl to still join them and almost immediately Daryl shook his head. He didn’t want to be included in something where he would have to be up close watching the girl that he was head over heels for swooning over Negan.

“Daryl, come on,” she reached for his hands and Daryl shook his head once more. “You might actually have some fun.”

“I’m tired Y/N, you go ahead and have fun,” Daryl kept up with his answer knowing that she was disappointed, but he didn’t care. There was no changing his answer. Part of Daryl wished she would have just stayed, but when she got up from the seat, he knew that spending time with Negan was going to win out over spending time with him. “Just enjoy yourself.”

“Well you should come over there when you want,” she reached out to squeeze his shoulder before walking toward the pool table with Negan.

When they reached the other side of the bar Daryl could see the other teachers eager to talk and laugh with Y/N. For a while they just all stood around talking and Daryl knew that he was staring, but he didn’t care. Biting down on his bottom lip when Negan’s arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders, he let out an upset breath and knew he should have just left.

After a while of talking, Negan tugged Y/N toward the pool table and they started playing together. Daryl was full of jealousy watching their interaction. It was obvious the two of them had a fuck ton of chemistry together. She was having a lot of fun and it was so easy for Negan to make her laugh.

Even knowing that Negan was her type made it so much more obvious to Daryl that he would never be her type. Negan was the opposite of him and he knew that. Which hurt all the more. It was best for him to just leave at his point, he wouldn’t have even been missed if he left now.

Finishing up his last drink, Daryl went to leave until he watched Y/N throw her arms up in celebration when she clearly beat Negan. Watching closely, Daryl saw the look of disappointment over Negan’s features as he moved around the pool table toward her. How close Negan got to Y/N made Daryl’s heart start to hammer inside of his chest.

Daryl’s mind was telling him to go over there and stop the interaction, but his body was frozen while Negan’s eyes were hooked on hers. Negan’s fingers stroked over the side of her face, brushing her hair behind her ear while they talked. Negan whispered something and she nodded before Negan lowered down. Tensing up, Daryl watched Negan’s lips descend over hers after he cupped her face in his hands in a tender stroke and this shit hurt more than Daryl would have thought it would.

When they parted, Negan’s head pressed up against hers and Daryl could see that it took her breath away. Negan whispered something to her while his right hand lifted with his thumb tracing over her cheek. With a smile like that, Daryl knew that Negan was sweeping her off her feet.

Daryl stepped forward when Negan grabbed a hold of her hand and led her toward the back of the bar. The rest of the group was distracted with their own discussions so the two of them were able to sneak out. Following the direction they headed, Daryl went to the backdoor and pushed it slightly open to see that they were at the back of the building.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Negan slurred, while he had her back pressed up against the brick wall. His large hands were cupping her face as they kissed over and over again. Daryl watched the two of them through the small crack in the door that he had opened. It was enough not to draw attention to him while the two made out behind the bar. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.”

“Negan,” she breathed out while his kisses pressed down over the side of her face and down toward her neck. Grabbing a firm hold of his thick hair, she tugged at it and made Negan stare out at her with desperation while he panted. Daryl wished that she would turn him down. “Do you…do you want to go to my place?”

“Right now?” Negan breathed against her lips and she nodded slowly. The smile that Negan gave her made an angry chill run down Daryl’s spine. “I’d love to.”

Y/N reached for Negan’s hand and led him away from the bar making Daryl want to chase after them, but he knew better. She made her choice and she wanted Negan. Badly, obviously.

Slamming the door shut behind him, Daryl went back to the bar and took his seat again where he was previously. Ordering something a little stronger, he wanted to drink away his pain knowing that he was super hurt to see how eager Y/N was to take Negan home with her.

“Where did the big man go?” a voice made Daryl grunt when Simon slid in beside him and Daryl muttered a slew of silent, angry words to himself. Suddenly so many people he had no interest in speaking to were coming up to him to talk. It irritated Daryl to say the least. When Daryl immediately took back the drink he ordered, Simon let out a long drawn out laugh. “It’s only Thursday Dixon, you might want to hold back. There is one more day of work.”

“I don’t care,” Daryl grumbled with a scowl, his blue eyes glaring at Simon. “I assume you’re talking about Negan and you’re too late. He just left with Y/N.”

“Like, they left together?” Simon was eager to get details and Daryl nodded, waving on to get another drink brought to him. “Son of a bitch! I didn’t think she would give it up that fucking fast. I got more of an innocent vibe from her.”

“What are you trying to say?” Daryl’s face scrunched up and Simon ordered a drink for himself.

“I’m saying Negan is going to win the fucking bet, that’s what I’m saying,” Simon sneered when he got the beer that he ordered. “Goddamn it.”

“What bet?” Daryl immediately questioned seeing Simon dramatically throw his head around. There was a pressure in Daryl’s head and it felt like the world stopped all together when he heard Simon say that. “What bet?”

“I made a bet with Negan that he wouldn’t be able to sleep with the new girl,” Simon informed Daryl with a long, drawn out sigh. “And evidently, I’m fucking losing which fucking sucks.”

“You guys made a bet about Negan sleeping with Y/N?” Daryl snapped, standing up from the stool that he was seated at. “What the fuck? That’s an actual person you are talking about? Someone who likes Negan…”

“Every girl likes Negan,” Simon snorted, his face scrunched up in amusement when Daryl seemed so upset. “Like I’m supposed to be surprised by that. I just thought she was your girl so it was the one time I thought I would win the bet.”

“Negan told me that he was crushing on her,” Daryl repeated what Negan had said and Simon laughed with an entertained expression when he reached for his beer again. “What?”

“You think Negan would crush on her? After losing his wife, that guy would pretty much sleep with anyone to forget the pain of losing her,” Simon cleared his throat noticing how uncomfortable that Daryl was with all of this. “There is no way that he has something for this girl other than the bet. He’s out to win it and undoubtedly, he is going to nail it. I guess I should say be saying he’s going to be nailing her.”

“Fucking asshole,” Daryl knocked into Simon as he headed for the door to leave. He didn’t know what to do with this information, but he had to stop it. Someway. He couldn’t just let Y/N get hurt like this. Why did he have to be so stupid? He should have never told Negan that it would be okay. He should have tried harder to keep them apart. This was just as much his fault for pushing the two of them together and Daryl hated himself for that.

----

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[urijihoons-blog]

Bokuto: Clarity

/ Kōtarō Bokuto x reader /

genre: pure angst

wc: 1399

summary: It’s your anniversary with Bokuto and you surprise him at a tournament, but someone’s been lying to you.

warnings: sadness

a/n: Hehehehehe I wrote something and it’s full of ✨angst✨

///

All you can hear are the clicking of your shoes on the airport tile.

You’ve had this trip planned for a while, and have everything down to a t. You arrive at the airport right after his volleyball match ends, which by the excited texts he’s been sending you (and the fact that you followed the score online during your flight) his team won his match. Just as you assumed, you expected nothing less. You would grab food from this barbecue place around his hotel that he’s been talking about constantly every night you two FaceTime, and you would surprise him. You would spend this night together, watch his final match tomorrow, and explore the city in next couple of days.

You haven’t seen him in a while, 2 and a half weeks to be exact, because he’s been at this combo training camp/tournament. This distance, this time between you, it isn’t new. It’s his job, and you fully respect that. You still talked on the phone everyday, FaceTimed every other day, and texted constantly. He’s a very attentive person, especially when he misses you.

Tonight is no different. You FaceTimed him while secretly closing your bakery for the night, right before his semifinal game. You gave him as much encouragement as you could over the phone, knowing it still meant a lot to him to have your support. You received text messages immediately after the game, reading them while you sit in the taxi on the way to get dinner. His texts outline every detail, every spike, every rally, every wish that you could’ve been there in the crowd. But he understood why, he understands that you can’t just abandon your business, not for his volleyball game, even if it is your anniversary.

You look down at the ring, turning it over and over around your finger. That’s the whole reason you’re doing this anyways. You closed up shop early to be able to leave and celebrate his win and your 4 years of dating, which would come to an end because of your wedding soon. Butterflies flutter in your stomach just thinking about it.

The cab suddenly stops and you get out, leaving the money behind. You pick up his order quickly, taking brisk steps. You can see the hotel sign just a block down. Its only been a few minutes and you’re already in the building, going up the elevator. You check previous texts, ‘Babe, you know I always stay in room 428. Just in case you ever want to surprise me :) xx’ And, finally, you could do just that. Give him the love and support and encouragement in person, instead of through a screen. The thought of seeing him made you halfway sprint down the hall, your rolling suitcase struggling to stay on its wheels behind you.

You slow as you see the room numbers closing in. It’s happening. You stand in front of the door and look down at yourself. You straighten out your sweater and run your fingers through your hair, trying to look at least halfway presentable. He won’t care, he just misses you. He says it everyday, multiple times a day. He just wants you. Giving yourself this little reminder, you knock on the door. For a second, you realize he may be out with his teammates, but then you hear the shuffle of footsteps.

“-yeah, and this must be our room service!” He opens the door and stares at you in utter shock. Your eyes take him in. His hair was down and wet and you could smell his body wash from the foot of distance between you, he must have just stepped out of the shower. Shirtless, but had on basketball shorts. A normal night. His golden eyes were bright with surprise, but his body stiffened, and his face looked.. scared? Concerned?

Maybe he was just confused.

“Bo!” You beamed, taking a step towards him, “I missed-“

“What’d you get us?” You heard a smooth voice purr from behind him. Your muscles instantly went rigid, and your eyebrows furrowed. Who-

And then you saw it.

A slim hand crept around his torso from behind, a face suddenly appearing from behind his shoulder. Her hair was wet, and her smile dripped with poison. She wore nothing but a towel hugging tightly around her body, and her hair was wet.

Your eyes stung with tears, and you were seeing red. You pushed through them both, neither of them giving much resistance. Storming into the room, you go straight to the bathroom, snatch the unnamed girl’s clothing, making sure they were drenched, and walked back into the suite. Bokuto’s sitting on the bed, as still and silent as a statue, covering his face with his hands. The girl, who once looked at you with a little smirk, now looks at you in unbelief. You shove past her, open the door gripping her arm, force her into the hallway, and drop the sopping clothes at her feet. The door slams in the girl’s face before she can even begin to protest her exile.

Silence envelopes the room as your back slides down the door frame. You finally let out the sob that has been tearing at your throat, and Bokuto immediately looks up. Getting up from the bed, he takes careful steps and finally rests on his knees in front of you. “Y/N,” his voice almost breaking, but just as he tries to take your hand, you flinch. “Please.”

You shake your head, barely being able to look at him through the tears welling up in your eyes, the nausea and disgust filling your stomach. “no.” You barely let out, turning your face from him. You feel his hot tears fall onto your hands.

The silence returns, along with pain and regret. You sit there for God knows how long, and finally decide on your next move. As soon as you stand up, Bokuto is there beside you, trying to comfort you, trying to explain himself. His words are muffled to you, only bits and pieces come through what feels like a glass barrier between you two. You grab your purse, and take out the box containing his anniversary present. “it was only for tonight-“, “-means nothing to me”, “let me fix this”, “I can make this right”.

You stop dead in your tracks, you hand clutching the doorknob. You think over your next course of action, but continue on your way. You grab your suitcase, and stalk down the hall. He continuously tries to stop you without grabbing you, a fear of seeing you flinch under his touch. Instead, he tries to grab your suitcase, questioning you, “Where are you going?”, “Seriously, Y/N, where are you going?”, “Don’t go out there by yourself, it isn’t safe this late at night”, “let me go with you, I’ll keep you safe”. His words are still muffled to you, and you wonder if that will ever return back to normal. For now, that doesn’t matter. You don’t know if it will ever matter. You reach the elevators and press the down button.

“please say something to me, Y/N”.

That was clear, no muffle or fuzz to his voice. Crystal clear. There was a need in his tone, a desperate need, but what was it exactly? You decide not to dwell on it. Instead, you turn around and look at him one last time. His hair is tousled down, his eyes bloodshot and slightly puff from crying, and his face red and melancholy. His tall, muscular frame that normally stands tall and proud is slouched. He looks as though he’s lost. You reach out a hand to cup his face, running your thumb under his eye to catch the tears. Bokuto closes his heavy eyes, leaning into the warmth of your touch, grasping his hand over yours. The elevator door dings, it’s time.

“Happy anniversary, my love.” You whisper with a sad smile, feeling your own cheeks become wet with tears. You step onto the elevator before the door closes, before he can realize that you’re actually leaving, before he can stop you.

The face he made when he looked up in between the closing doors was one of horror. He took a step forward, “Please, I-“ was all you heard before they completely closed in on you. Leaving you as alone as you came.

///

Should I make a part 2? 🧐

Update: here’s part 2 :)

[frostbeees]

“I just remembered something.” “What?” “I never actually asked you out on a date.” Number 27, tk/patty???? 🥺🥺🥺

okay so initially i was gonna make this really angsty and sad BUT someone (*cough @meresprite1847 *cough) influenced me to at least give it a hopeful ending <3

prompt: “i just remembered something” “what?” “i never actually asked you out on a date”

pairing: tk/patty

rating: gen

w/c: 727

nolan is just finishing unpacking the last box when his phone pings from across the room. he’s only been fully in vegas for a week and it’s been the longest week of his life. meetings with the team staff to give him talk after talk of what will be expected from him. appointments with the team doctors to make sure his body is physically where he says it is. and then there’s team events; multiple “get to know each other” dinners and golf outings. all in the span of a week.

so he’s tired, physically and mentally, and he knows from the personalized ping that it’s tk texting him and he’s not sure he has the energy to deal with that.

the phone pings again, nolan ignores it. he breaks down the box and adds it to the pile before dropping onto the couch. his apartment is bare, even with all of his things scattered around him. it’s nothing like his philly apartment with the furniture that claude and ry helped him pick out and build. there’s no hole in the wall from where tk tried to dunk a toy basketball and failed miserably. no odd sweatshirt or sock or suit jacket that definitely belongs to tk tossed around haphazardly.

there’s only his things and his clothes.

he knows he blew it. he blew it with the city of philly, with the team, and most importantly, with travis. he left everything unsaid, every touch unanswered and now he’s basically on the other side of the country.

maddie tried over the summer. she told him over and over to just call tk, ‘tell him how you feel, what you want’ she said, more than once. and nolan almost did. twice he called tk, who surprisingly answered, but then nolan chickened out at the last minute. and now it’s just a few texts between them here and there.

he thinks back to the first time he thought there might be something there. the guys always teased them, called tk his ‘husband’. they noticed when tk and nolan stopped showing up in random hotel rooms and just kept to themselves. and nolan noticed when tk would forgo his own bed and slide in next to nolan.

but it was never more than that.

he shakes himself out of it though and grabs his phone on the way to the kitchen, tk’s name all over his lock screen.

dude look at this massive fish i just caught. laughts said i’d never get it in the boat but i did

can’t believe we don’t play you guys til december. don’t they know i need my patty fix before then

i miss you bud

nolan’s chest goes tight as soon as he reads the messages. and tk must have been waiting for the read receipt to pop up because not a moment later nolan has an incoming FaceTime call from tk.

he thinks about not answering. it’d probably be easier if he started weaning himself off tk now. but he can’t so he answers and the first thing he sees is the view from tk’s balcony before the camera is flipping and there’s tk smiling at him. he can’t help but smile back.

“you know,” tk starts, not even a ‘hello’. “there’s something we never did while you were still here.”

nolan hums in response.

“we never went on a real date. like. i never asked you out”

and nolan is pretty sure he’s dreaming. he must have fallen asleep on the couch and this is definitely not actually happening. he gives himself a little pinch and tk must notice the face nolan makes because his smile gets impossibly wider.

“no bud, not a dream. when we come to town in december will you go on a date with me?”

“if you’re in my city doesn’t that really mean that i’m taking you on a date?”

“oh fuck you,” travis says, laughing. “i’m gonna plan the best vegas date you’ll ever have. and at the end of it i’m using my curfew card and you’re gonna take me back to your place.”

travis winks and nolan almost drops his phone but gathers himself at the last second.

“yeah okay, let’s go on that date.”

[tamakissimp]

headcanon- secretly rich s/o

request: @rayanicaraynbow​ Hi! This might be a little weird, but could I get headcanons for Todoroki, YaoMomo, Shinsou, and Jiro with a s/o that is the child of a pro hero/someone who's just generally rich, but they have a different last name than their rich parent, so nobody knows their rich. I'm not sure if this is *too* specific or not specific *enough*. If not, that's fine, it was just a random 1 AM thought, and I couldn't find a rules list if there was one. I love your blog btw! :)

a/n: I wrote Shouto’s differently because this boy 100% has a rich people radar. idc it’s true.

TODOROKI:

He'll probably know that you're rich before you tell him. He most likely saw you at a 'rich people' party when he was younger.

He knows how much it sucks to be judge by your parents' name so he'll ignore the topic of your family all together.

Shouto thinks it's cute and sad at the same time how much you try to hide your wealth.

He loves how nonrich you act. Going to thrift shops as dates, always sharing bills, checking price tags, not always getting name-brand stuff.

He loves how normal he feels around you. No pressure to go out to fancy restaurants. You tow can just make a nice homecooked meal.

Absolutely adores the low maintenance dates. You two can go for a walk in the park and call it a date.

You've already gone through your 'allowance' (while you have a couple hundred thousand in your bank account) and still need a sweater. He'll use this as an excuse to gift you his clothing. Seeing you in his shirts makes his heart do summersaults.

"Shouto.". The half-and-half boy turns around at the sound of your voice. His hearts warm up at the sight of you, a big smile plastered on your cheeks while you hold a shirt in front of you. "Look how cute this is! And it's only 300 yen.".

Shouta walks over to you and presses the shirt against you slightly. He tries to imagine how it would look on you. "It's pretty," he says. "But it'll look even prettier on you.". You give his chest a playful swat as you hide your face behind the shirt. "What, it's true.".

"You are a flirt, mister," you say before twirling around and walking to the changing rooms in the thrift shop. Shouta doesn't know what he's feeling. Maybe it's love, maybe it's happiness, maybe it's longing. He doesn't know. All he knows is that he's hooked on how domestic things like going shopping together feel. How normal everything feels. He isn't Shouto Todoroki, son of Endeavor. You aren't Y/n Y/L/n, child of one of the richest family in Japan.

No, you're just Shouta and Y/n. Just a young couple wanting to spend their afternoon together.

MOMO:

She is very rich herself. Even though she should be able to recognize a fellow rich person, she doesn't.

She always pays when you go out to eat, she buys you the most extravagant gifts while yours are just average.

You even got a job, not wanting to solely rely on your parents' money.

Every time she offered to pay for something or gift you something, you had to stifle your laughter. Her intent is kind and sweet but at the same time useless. You could easily buy all the stuff she gifts you yourself.

You like to DIY stuff with her. Upcycling old clothing, tailoring thrift shop clothing, mixing broken items. You make it a bonding experience for both of you.

If she thinks that you're on the poorer side than she'll spoil you to death. Either with basic things like your favourite snacks or with that shirt she's seen you eyeing in the store.

She had no clue about your wealth so when she found out, she was perplexed.

It isn't weird for Aizawa to take attendance, though he forgot to do so most of the times. "Bakugou," he says. Bakugou grunts in response. You and Momo are too caught up in your own hushed conversation to pay attention to what the teacher is saying.

"Tanaka," Aizawa says. Fuck. Your attention is suddenly turned to the teacher. Students look around themself for the said Tanaka. "Oh, sorry. Y/l/n.". You raise your hand and drop it back down the second Aizawa acknowledges your presence.

You turn back to Momo. Her jaw has dropped and she's looking at you with wide eyes. "You're a Tanaka?". You nod at her question. Everyone knew the Tanaka's. They're the richest family in Japan, owning multiple renown hero agency.

"Yeah," you say as you awkwardly scratch at the back of your neck. "But I go by my father's name.". Momo nods. She understands the pressure of being seen as the 'rich kid'. The assumptions people make about you just because of your financial status.

"Don't worry," she says. "You're still Y/n to me.". You smile at her before continuing your conversation. God, how did you get lucky enough to end up with someone like Momo?

SHINSO:

Shinso never cared about how much money you had or how little. All he cared about is that you're with him. That you don't judge him for his quirk.

So he never noticed the few designer pieces of clothing you had mixed between your wardrobe. Or the fact that you always had the newest model phone on the market.

He thought that you were just being kind and wanted to treat him when you offered to pay the bill whenever you went out to eat.

When you were younger, you tried to hide who your mother was more but as you went older and went to the U.A, you started to accept it more.

So, when Shinsou found out you're the child of a pro-hero, saying he's shocked is an understatement.

Guest speakers come every often. At least once a week, the school arrange a pro-hero to come and give the class a pep talk or give them tips. Due to this, you knew that it was only a matter of time before your mother would be standing before your class.

"I'll pick you up at your dorm.". You read over your mother's text a hundred times. Even though you weren't the one who's going to be standing in front of a class full of hyperactive, overly excited students you're still nervous. You tap your foot against the floor as you bit your nails.

"Y/n!". You turn to your left. You see your mother standing in the elevator, waving at your happily before mentioning you to come over. You take quick steps towards her. The moment you're within arms-reach she pulls you in for a hug. "I missed you. Have you gotten taller?".

You swat her hand away as she tries to ruffle through your hair. "A little. And I missed you too.". The elevator doors close and you two start to move downwards. You tell your mother all about your class but your conversation is interrupted when the elevator stops and another person enters.

"Baby?". You look up as you see your boyfriend standing before you. His eyes wander from you to the pro-hero, your mother, standing beside you. He bows slightly to her before standing beside you.

"Is this the boy you've been telling me about?" your mother asks as she nudges your side. Your cheeks heat up as you nod your head. "He's handsome!". You look over at Shinso, who's eyes are wide. He tilts his head as you can almost see the gears in his hand turning.

You smile at him. "Shinso, this is my mom," you say. With that his jaw drops. Sure, he saw how much you two looked alike but he didn't think much of it. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times as he tries to think of what to say.

"You didn't tell him about me?". You shake your head at your mother's question. The elevator doors open against and your mother quickly slips out of the it, leaving you and a barely functioning Shinsou behind.

You lace your fingers through Shinsu's and pull him out of the elevator. "You're.....She's your mom?" he asks. You nod while keeping your eyes fixed on the ground. Will he judge you? Will he be mad that you didn't tell him? "Huh, never would have guessed.". You're taken aback by his cheery tone but your confusion doesn't last long as Shinso drags you along with him to your classroom. Well, that went smoother than you imagined.

JIRO:

Much like Shinsou, she doesn't care about your wealth. She doesn't care about your money. All she cares about is that you love her.

She'll start to grow suspicious when you buy concert tickets and new instruments for her like it's nothing but she won't bring it up.

Jiro will probably try to 'compensate' with your gifts and goes out of her way with cute dates and romantic gestures.

She doesn't say a thing about your wealth until you gift her a new guitar for the third time.

And when she accidentally sees your true last name on a letter your parents send you, she's surprised. You, her Y/n who's she's been with for so long, is filthy rich.

"Surprise," you say as you push the beautifully wrapped box towards her. Jiro quirks up her brow as she carefully rips the patterned paper of the box. She opens it to reveal a new guitar.

She recognizes the model. You've seen her eying it for a week now. Your heart warms up as you see a smile spread across her lips. "Again?" she asks. You nod.

"I couldn't help myself," you explain. "I wanted to hear you play on it.". Jiro just shakes her head with a smile as she continues to unbox the instrument.

You watch her intensively as she places the now fully unwrapped guitar next to her older ones. It stands out. It's shinier than the others. "How do you afford this?" she says. "A guitar is like 60,000 yen.". You just shrug as you pull her towards you.

"Oh, it's...inheritance.". You feel bad for lying straight through your teeth but you don't know who she'll react if she finds out about your family. You plaster on a smile.

"I saw the letter," she says. Your blood runs cold. Maybe she saw a different letter. Yeah, it must have been. "I don't care about your family.". Oh crap. She definitely read the letter.

Your smile falters a bit. Jiro notices and cups your cheeks. "Is something wrong?" she asks. Her voice calms you down a bit. You just shake your head.

"No, I just..." you say. "I just thought you might...act differently when you found out.". She shakes her head and plants a kiss on your forehead.

"God no, you're still my Y/n," Jiro says.

[hqbbg]

remember.

pairing: akaashi x reader

summary: akaashi’s lost his memories and you remember the events leading up to it.

genre: angst

word count: 2.4K

warnings: slight mention of blood, incident of car accident

author’s note: hi y’all! this is my contribution to the Haikyuu Headquarters server collab ✨ the prompt for this one is amnesia and I chose to write for Akaashi, but check out the other writers’ works here! I hope y’all enjoy!

part two.

The smell of the hospital is all too familiar to your senses now. There’s a low buzz of white noise around you as people come and go, walking around and minding their own business. What are they here for? Who are they here for?

You wait patiently for the elevator doors to slide open, your fingers wrung in front of you. You twiddle your thumbs three times before the light comes on above the silver doors accompanied by a ‘ding!’ and you step inside. Your finger immediately presses the button for the fourth floor, and you hold the door open for two more people as they enter the metal box. You ask which floor they need and press the corresponding buttons, watching as the doors close shut, and your steady ascent begins.

It’s quiet, save for the beeping of the elevator every time it reaches a new floor. When you arrive on the fourth floor, you wait a moment before the doors slide open before stepping out. You turn right and see the white sign above the familiar double doors that read ‘Intensive Care Unit’ and press the button for them to open automatically.

A few nurses give you small smiles upon seeing you and you do your best to reciprocate the gesture, though it never quite reaches your eyes. Nowadays, it never does.

Your hands are shaking as you reach for the door handle. The metal feels cold against your fingers and you inhale an unsteady breath before turning the bar. As the door opens, a gust of cold air hits you and the sound of multiple machines beeping fills your ears. You walk in and close the door behind you, setting your bag down on the countertop next to the entrance. Sighing to yourself, you pull the same chair you’ve been using for the past several days up to the edge of the bed and seat yourself in it. You sit in silence for a moment, unable to tear your eyes away from the main source of your joy—although, he was the current source of your heartache—Akaashi Keiji.

Had it not been for the various tubes connected to him and the reason behind this situation, he almost looked peaceful. You lift a hand and brush some hair away from his closed eyes, allowing your fingers to linger a little longer as you float them along the frame of his face. You bite your lip and hold back the tears beginning to line your eyes as your hand retracts back towards yourself.

You hum along to the song playing on the radio and keep your eyes fixed on the moving buildings and cars around you. You feel Akaashi’s thumb rubbing soothing circles around your own, squeezing your intertwined fingers every so often. As the current song comes to an end, you reach over with your empty hand and grab his phone from its spot in the console and unlock it to queue up the next couple of songs. As you do so, his phone buzzes and an unfamiliar name appears accompanied by a message.

What are you doing right now? :)

You frown slightly but choose to disregard it and continue to queue up three more songs. You look over at him and see that he continues to keep his eyes fixed on the road, completely unaware of what’s going on. You put the phone back down and debate on whether or not you should address it or not.

“Hey, you got a message,” you finally say after a few moments.

Akaashi’s eyes flicker over to you for a brief moment.

“I’ll just read it later.”

You hum in acknowledgement and decide to ignore the bubbling curiosity settling within your stomach.

Your eyes flit over to the heart monitor beeping behind the bed and you trace the cadence of each steady beat. You lower your gaze back down and sigh again. You lift your hand and grasp Akaashi’s, giving it a soft squeeze.

The breeze feels good against your skin and you inhale the fresh air with a smile on your face. The two of you finally arrived at your favorite lookout point and the city below still bustles with activity. You turn around and feel the corner of your lips falter when you see Akaashi on his phone, his thumbs tapping quickly along the screen. You turn back around and remind yourself that it’s nothing, probably just someone from work or something.

“Hey, I have to make a call really quick,” he says. You turn your head and nod.

“Okay, I’ll set everything up.”

He smiles apologetically as he takes a few steps away from the car. You choose not to dwell on it and make your way to the car to set up the little picnic the two of you had planned together.

Just as you finish setting everything up, Akaashi makes his way over and presses a kiss against your forehead.

“Sorry, I’m here now. Thanks for setting up.”

You tell him it’s no problem, simply happy with the fact that he’s here now as the two of you sit down. You hear his phone buzz and try to ignore him as he pulls the device out, typing again.

Tears continue to line your eyes as your fingers trace over his knuckles, feeling how prominent they’ve become under his skin. You lift his hand to your lips and press a small kiss against it, gently setting it back down at his side.

He’s so still. Had you not known any better, he reminded you of a living photograph.

For a split second, you could’ve sworn you saw his finger move ever so slightly but figure you’d just imagined it. You miss hearing his voice, feeling his arms around you, just him in general.

“I’m so full,” you sigh in content as you begin to clean up around yourself.

The sun has already begun setting and it’s starting to get dark. As the two of you continue to collect your things, you hear his phone buzz again with yet another text notification. At this point, you’ve lost count of how many times he’d stopped to respond. You want to ask, but you can’t help but feel as if you’re just being paranoid for no reason. However, he’s been on his phone more than he’s even looked you in the eyes tonight.

When you’re both done, you head back to the car and get inside, sitting patiently for him to start up the engine. He sits in the driver’s seat, eyes still fixed on his phone with the slightest trace of a smile on his lips. You can’t help but feel a little irked and albeit a bit jealous, so you finally decide to ask, deciding that you’ve waited enough.

“Who is it?”

“Hm?” Akaashi finally looks up from his phone and blinks innocently at you.

“You’ve been on your phone all night long,” you can’t resist the small pout on your lips.

“Sorry, love,” he says as he puts his phone down. “One of my coworkers just had a question about an upcoming project.”

“Do they know that tonight was supposed to be our date night?” You ask, trying your best to maintain an indifferent demeanor, though the question comes out more aggressively than you’d intended.

Akaashi doesn’t seem to mind, offering another apologetic smile. You do your best to stand your ground, though his smile alone makes you feel like you’re crumbling.

“It was just time sensitive,” he says. “I’ll be sure we aren’t interrupted for our next date night, okay?”

He reaches for your hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He starts the engine and you feel at ease, mentally scolding yourself for getting worked up over nothing.

You grasp onto Akaashi’s hand again, missing its warmth. Right now, all you want is for him to squeeze back reassuringly, remind you that everything’s going to be okay.

The doctors had explained to you that he would be able to recover quickly so long as he followed the proper procedures once he was conscious. Even in this state, he was already improving greatly. He just needs to wake up. You need him to wake up.

The drive home is dark. You watch the road ahead of you as Akaashi rests his right hand on your thigh. You continue to reprimand yourself internally for overthinking things, even having the audacity to suspect your otherwise perfect boyfriend.

He treats you so well, taking care of you, and putting up with the different mood swings you’d have from time to time.

“You’re being quiet,” Akaashi breaks the silence first.

“Hm?” You look over at him.

“You seem to be deep in thought,” he says, giving your thigh a slight squeeze before removing his hand altogether. You shake your head—whether it’s to shake yourself back into focus or to rid yourself of other thoughts, you’re not sure.

“I’m just thinking about you,” you reply. It’s not a lie.

Akaashi’s ears and cheeks tint a soft pink at your forwardness.

“Care to elaborate?”

You shake your head again, though this time it’s more playful.

“My thoughts will stay within my head,” you say, grinning to yourself.

As the two of you continue to converse, you both fail to notice a car nearing the intersection at full speed.

You could’ve sworn you just felt Akaashi’s fingers move in your hands. The first time might’ve been a hallucination, but this time, you definitely felt it. You let go of his hand and quickly make your way towards the door, reaching for the handle and pulling the door open. You quickly get the attention of the closest nurse nearby and explain what had happened. He nods and follows you back to the room.

You stop dead in your tracks, feeling your heart flutter with emotion as gunmetal blue eyes stare back at you. Just as you’re about to run over and throw your arms around him, Akaashi opens his mouth to speak.

“Who are you?”

His voice is hoarse, not having been used in days, but you heard him loud and clear.

“I’m one of the nurses here—”

Akaashi shakes his head, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“Who are you?”

In three simple words, it feels like your world is falling apart faster than you can pick up the pieces. He doesn’t have the same soft smile you’re used to, the same warmth and love in his eyes. Instead, he’s guarded, and confusion is written all over his face.

“I need to go get a doctor. I’ll be right back,” the nurse says, quickly rushing out of the room. You’re left alone once again.

“Do you not know who I am?” You frown, approaching him slowly.

“Should I?” Akaashi shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows. This can’t be happening.

“We’ve been dating for over a year,” you respond, feeling tears prickling your eyes once again. “Come on, Keiji, it’s me.”

Your voice comes out weaker than you’d anticipated and the look of indifference you’re receiving in return hurts.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are,” he says politely. You open your mouth to say something else, but the door swings open and a doctor accompanied by a couple nurses walks in.

You’re unsure of what happened. One moment, you’re having a good time with your boyfriend, but the next, you feel your body jerking in multiple directions as the car spins out of control. The sound of glass shattering accompanied by a soft sting of pieces cutting across your skin is sharp in the night.

There isn’t much noise—though, you’re unsure if it’s because the ringing in your ears is too loud to notice—and your eyes feel out of focus. You look over and see Akaashi slumped over, a thick and dark red liquid seeping from the side of his head and beginning to stain his shirt.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you call out for Akaashi, but he doesn’t respond. You continue to scream and cry for him to wake up, preparing for the worst until your throat feels raw. You ignore the pain and stiffness in your neck, gripping onto his bleeding arm and shake him. You’re unsure of how much time passes, but soon you hear sirens and suddenly, your world is black.

“He’s showing signs of amnesia,” the doctor sighs heavily as she looks through the chart on her clipboard. “He’s retained his basic motor skills, but he doesn’t seem to remember much of anything in the past couple of years. This is probably a result from a really intense concussion. When we scanned him for brain damage, we didn’t see anything intense, so it could be possible that this is short-term memory loss.”

“How can he get his memories back?” You bite your lip nervously, trying to hold back the tears so that you can hear out the doctor’s orders appropriately.

“Unfortunately, there’s no promise that he’ll get his memories back at all,” the doctor sighs. “You can try to jog his memory, but there’s a potential risk in doing so; you’d be writing new memories in and forcing him to believe that as reality. It’s quite easy to take advantage of.”

You nod, though you’re still trying to wrap your head around everything.

“The best thing you can do is give him time,” she says. “I understand this is hard for you, but I will also suggest consider making new memories with him.”

You nod again, this time more understandingly.

“When can he be discharged?”

“I’d like to keep an eye on him for a few more days, but after that, he’s home free. Also, I don’t know if this will help you feel better, but some patients can end up getting their memories with a single trigger and everything is fine.”

“Thank you,” you say to the doctor, sighing softly to yourself.

“We have to run some more tests on the patient, but please keep an open mind,” she says. “He’ll be back home before you know it.”

You ride the train back to your shared apartment, feeling numb all over. You’re happy he’s finally awake, but he doesn’t remember you. He doesn’t remember the memories you’ve made together and the idea that he never will twists your stomach into a knot, bringing tears to your eyes.

You want him to remember and you’ll do whatever it takes for him to do so.

[clairelutra]

Question from someone considering buying Rune Factory 4: Are there any little quirks the game has that may make it less enjoyable to a new player (the kinds of things that don't always make it to reviews, like voice language options, menu responsiveness, etc.)?

it's a personal preference thing, but i hate the voice acting. it is anime voice acting except worse. you can turn that off as soon as you have access to the start menu. it's in the last tab, with the gear icon. to my knowledge, there aren't multiple settings for it, it was just always the first thing to go. there are very few user tweaks available generally, which may or may not be a problem? it's fixed camera, all the text is in dialogue boxes, everything is lit with the intent of being perceived, etc.

also the beginning especially is... really intensely Anime™. if it's off-putting to the point where you'd want to put it down, you can skip the dialogue by holding Y/ロ/whatever-they-mapped-that-to-on-keyboard. if you're here for the game, not the plot, then the stuff you'll miss is pretty minimal, but if you're here for the plot—know that it does chill out to a much more even note by the time you're on day 2-3.

also also make sure you jive with the videos of gameplay. i'm v fond of it but one of my friends was less than impressed with the visual resolution lol.

tbh this is my favorite of the farming/&rpg genre because it's so user friendly. the only missing quality of life things that i hit my head over are the fact that meals don't stack (understandable, since they're all customizable, but still a pain when you're trying to make and ship 600 glasses of juice when money grinding) and the completionist endgame final upgrades for the monster sheds require ~50k wood each, which are an absolute pain to grind for.

you can cook and craft in bulk. you can sort each inventory with a single button press. the world isn't exactly open but it's expansive and you can teleport home like you're on a train line, with a stop at each checkpoint as you go. crops aren't season-locked (they just grow better in their seasons). they'll let you upgrade the capacity of your storage up to numbers that will take a few stacks of each and every item in the game.

they really did take every frustration i, a longtime harvest moon/rune factory fan, had and said "i can fix that :3", so i'm a little biased on that front, lol. if you're familiar with the genre, it's gold. if you're a more general rpg fan... give it a shot? i've bought it 3 times now (the original 3ds version, the switch special edition, and the steam version) and haven't regretted it once, so.

[locktobre]

bcbd thoughts

right away I see that this is only an hour long, so... it’s not a movie, then. it’s a one hour special, again. I feel like I’m already gonna miss the extra 20 minutes just like dolphin magic but we’ll see I guess. maybe it’ll be a mercy that it’s shorter.

the opening credits/dream sequence was nice. the animation on the city is decent, and the monochrome thing was kind of cool.

her being on stage reminded me a little of Eden, and then immediately I missed Eden so much. they would never let a version of Babs be a bitch now and that’s such a shame.

so now we’re joking about George tracking Barbie’s cell phone? bc that’s fine and not at all an invasion of privacy or anything. also, you can check flight statuses on the internet so that’s really not necessary. also, why the fuck didn’t Barbie call them once she got off the plane? or at least text? I always text or call my mom when I land, and frankly I’m not even as close to my mom as Barbie claims to be to her parents. and I did that when I was 17 traveling alone, too, so it’s not just something I do as an adult. it’s part of the responsibility of traveling to let ppl know that you got somewhere safe so they don’t worry about you. what the fuck Babs.

was that honking supposed to be like censoring the cabbie swearing bc I would love that. let the cabbie say fuck.

I still maintain that this “summer program” thing is bullshit and Babs should have been going off to college. I know they won’t let her grow up but it makes more sense than this does. also, you’re telling me there’s no summer programs for acting/whatever in LA? seriously? she HAD to go across the country for this? and her parents let her? they don’t even trust her! they said that 2 seconds ago! or is tracking her cell phone the reason she’s allowed to travel across the country (to Willows and Florida and Hawaii) by herself in the first place? I hate this I hate it so much already

The Handler Arts Academy... oh I’m feeling emotions

“luck’s got nothing to do with it. you worked your tail off for this” SHOW ME FOR WHEN, PLEASE. this could have been an actual arc of the show, a goal Barbie was working towards that could thread thru multiple episodes... but no. this came out of nowhere. I’m STILL saying that Amelia bought Barbie’s place here bc FUCK YOU SHOW

“I hope I’m good enough” you’re a mediocre rich white woman, you can do literally anything you want.

why is her guitar shoved in a cardboard box and not, idk, in a guitar case? that’s stupid. also, that’s an open cardboard box, so how did that travel on the plane? a closed cardboard box, fine. should be a suitcase, but fine. but this just makes no sense and I am not going to let it slide bc I hate this continuity and everything about it.

however, I will give Brooklyn a pass for the open cardboard box bc she literally lives in NYC and didn’t have to take a fucking plane to get here. she can carry it like that if she wants.

“as long as you don’t break [my leg], we’re good” I’ve already seen Brooklyn in a cast, so... does Malibu literally break her leg later on? even on accident... jesus christ.

is this Russian(?) custodian lady gonna be the antagonist/villain? bc I’m already not vibing with that. not at fucking all.

how the FUCK could they show up a day early? why would they not show up on the day they’re supposed to? that doesn’t make any sense! and if they’re NOT supposed to be there yet, then there would be no staff there to watch them, so they should have to come back tomorrow! they shouldn’t be allowed to be by themselves in a school like this! I’m assuming this is to facilitate a day of bonding without stupid things like classes in the way, but they could have written an orientation day or something in that would have made more sense, and as I said, I am not inclined to give them a pass on anything these days. fuck you all.

so, room assignments are alphabetical... I guess that kind of explains them being in the same room, altho it does feel coincidental that they wouldn’t be, like, in neighboring rooms. also they didn’t animate little signs on the other doors, even with nonsense text if they didn’t want to put other names up, so their door really sticks out for no reason. also, shouldn’t it say “Barbie Roberts & Barbie Roberts” or some other way of having both names on the door? also, if the school knows they have the same name, couldn’t they put middle initials or something? we know Malibu is Barbie M. Roberts, and I will generously assume that Brooklyn’s middle name is something else, so that would have been fine. this really feels like the administrators don’t give a fuck, and in a supposedly prestigious school, I don’t buy that.

so, Brooklyn has been training every summer in different programs, very intensely, to get in here... and Malibu trained on the internet. what have I been saying about Malibu’s white mediocrity? hmm?

even after that (lackluster) montage, it feels way too soon for “Before Us.” I don’t believe they’re best friends who warrant a song about their friendship. I don’t believe that at all.

I like the bald fashionista being on the billboard, that’s a nice touch.

Malibu bringing up her vlog like that gives me hives. she has already stated multiple times that she does that to help ppl, not for clout, and yet. here she is. being a fake ass bitch once again.

Brooklyn and Emmie’s story is already way more interesting than this and I’m pissed that’s just backstory.

LOVE that green-haired dude. idk where you’re going with that drum but godspeed my dude.

I’m assuming that’s Emmie incognito in the back, but... what’s she doing here if she’s already famous? pulling an Erika Juno?

Dean Morrison seems cool

(is it too early to ship Brooklyn x Emmie?)

if pets are allowed in this school, I’m SHOCKED Malibu didn’t bring Taffy. truly fucking shocked.

Rafa reminds me so much of Jacques Rousseau

“the only labels we believe in are designer” so Rafa’s gay, right? Barbie’s first gay character? I can only assume

the ballet thing still doesn’t make sense to me, if their goal is to be on Broadway. ballet is an entire art and discipline in itself.

fencing makes more sense, bc stage fighting is a thing.

‘work it’ is even funnier than I imagined. Malibu you’re such a fuck up. and I can’t even cut you some slack bc earlier you said your training was “internet.” you didn’t work for this and you don’t belong here. die.

if this was PCS, Malibu would have been kicked out already. YOU WERE NOT PREPARED FOR THIS. WHAT HAVE I BEEN SAYING FOR MONTHS.

so, the ‘work it’ montage clearly showed the passage of time, it’s been at least a week, and... Malibu hasn’t talked to Ken at all during that time? this is the first time she’s telling him about Brooklyn?

ok, confirmed to be a week. and she hasn’t talked to Ken. of course. they are so close of course she hasn’t talked to him in a week, especially when she’s been struggling so much and would need to vent to a friend about it. of course.

so, Emmie is pulling an Erika Juno. at least she’s in disguise.

jesus christ, they’re really having Emmie be exploited by her own father??? JESUS.

ok Brooklyn x Emmie is sailing.

Brooklyn’s mom is an airline pilot, that sounds cool.

so the dresses are powered by the magic of friendship? cool. that’s stupid.

of COURSE Emmie’s dad is the board member. jesus christ I hate this dude.

okay, so she DIDN’T break her leg, it’s only a sprain. thank god. poor green-haired drum dude.

saying “epic fail” in 2021 unironically is not cool, mattel. unless I’m even more out of touch with the youth than I thought, but I’m pretty sure about that.

wait, so Brooklyn was dancing... and now she’s on crutches again? what is this montage? they fucked up here.

of all things to kick Malibu out for, they’re saying she pushed Brooklyn? why not all the fuck ups in her first week?

also, Rafa was taping that class so how do they not bring that up immediately? that’s the whole reason they were dancing over there in the first place! (so he might not have caught anything, but still, I have to assume that’s going to fix this bc that’s what these movies do.)

I really like Malibu’s leather jacket look, but she does look a little bit old I think. Brooklyn’s leggings look is nice, too.

okay, so Brooklyn suddenly believes the unnamed witness over the girl she sang ‘before us’ with? okay. I told you this friendship was a crock of shit. they don’t trust each other at all! Brooklyn should have been angry when she first fell, and it builds to thinking that she was sabotaged, but she brushed it off... and now she’s pissed. that makes no sense.

this friendship breakup song also means nothing to me bc their friendship fell apart for such a stupid reason. fate didn’t tear you apart, you tore yourselves apart by not trusting each other. stupid little children.

if Brooklyn’s ankle isn’t completely healed aka still painful, she should not be dancing on it, she could injure herself more or at least prolong the healing process.

ok, so NOW, after Malibu has already been expelled and sent back home, they remembered the video. these kids are so fucking stupid. and of COURSE the unnamed witness is Mr Miller! Emmie, you ALREADY KNOW that your dad is shady as shit and wants you to get the Spotlight Solo! HOW DID YOU NOT PUT THIS TOGETHER IN 5 SECONDS? I DID

so, Mr Miller thought Malibu was Emmie’s biggest competition for the solo? Malibu, the spectacular fuck up? not Brooklyn? or any of the background extras? I refuse to fucking believe that. I REFUSE.

how did George and Margaret just let Malibu get expelled without flying out there to fight the charge? seriously?

how is is Brooklyn singing ‘before us’ in-universe such that Malibu recognizes it? you’re breaking the conventions of musicals! I don’t get this!

I like Brooklyn’s mom being a pilot less after it’s been used to facilitate this bullshit part of the plot.

again, just “Barbie Roberts” makes no sense. where’s a middle initial to differentiate them! SOMETHING! I know they’re doing the finale together, but still, it’s STUPID.

shipping Rafa x green-haired drummer dude bc I can

where’s the Emmie doll for this movie?????? I’m so disappointed. also the other outfits, the leather jacket and leggings ones, I swear those weren’t dolls either. what the fuck

I see more fashionistas on billboards at the end! I really like that

so the custodian wasn’t a villain... then why that introduction for her? that went nowhere

is “Big City Big Dreams” supposed to be Emmie’s song? that Malibu lips-synced to on her vlog (apparently)? I can’t tell by the voice and they don’t list the voices for the songs in the credits

overall, once again it largely made no sense. idk if it would have benefitted from 20 extra minutes of screentime bc nothing really happened.

also, what the fuck happened to Mr Miller? he just keeps on exploiting his daughter? and for that matter, what happened to Emmie’s mom? bc she lived with her, and then all of the sudden her dad was in her life again and exploiting her, so... what did mom die? did he kill her? what am I supposed to think? and Emmie’s STILL stuck in that situation? girl. what the fuck

also of course they were too cowardly to confirm anything about Rafa. of course.

[nomazee]

Slow

ushijima wakatoshi x reader

word count: 3400+

content: soulmate au (matching soulmarks), developing relationship, mild angst, ushijima is just Very Clueless sometimes, weird pacing (i can never get the pacing of my writing right :/ )

(hi hi hi!! here’s the ushijima oneshot i mentioned a few days ago. this was something i started working on a while ago but dropped it momentarily to focus on some other stuff. i ended up rewriting it completely and renewing the concept a bit.

this is sort of a different writing style? but that’s mainly because i wanted to adjust the way i wrote to the way the reader’s thoughts came through. i hope that makes sense? and i hope this is still readable!!

i really hope you guys like this one. while soulmate aus aren’t my most favorite trope, i definitely like the way you can twist it to fit your story and make up new concepts branching from the main idea of soulmates.

i think this is the longest work i’ve made?? i’m definitely pretty proud of it!! i hope my hard work paid off and you all enjoy it :)

ALSO: a very quick note. i use the word “furoshiki” a few times in one part of the story to refer to the cloth that people use to wrap bento boxes. if i misused that term please let me know!! i looked it up to make sure i was using the right word but there’s definitely still a chance that i could be wrong. feel free to correct me on that!!

by the way: i’m posting this from my phone right now so the formatting might not all be there. i’m very sorry about that!! once i get the chance to go back on my laptop i’ll make sure to fix everything :)

happy reading !!)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

It was common knowledge among those in the Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club that their captain, Ushijima Wakatoshi, prioritized volleyball over nearly everything else.

Even relationships. Even soulmates.

His friend Tendou had laughed mirthlessly when Ushijima first met you, his soulmate. He was there to witness the whole thing, your eyes flitting between the ace’s soulmark trailed beautifully against his wrist and the same mark mirrored on your forearm. You looked enthused to meet him--not overly, hopping-off-the-walls ecstatic, but certainly hopeful enough to elicit a wide smile from you.

“I’m [Last] [First],” you introduced yourself politely, with light hesitance and an extended hand.

Ushijima blinked, looked down at your hand (soft, a red and scabbed cut on your first knuckle, a birthmark on the bony part of your wrist) and then back up at your eyes. He returned the gesture, shaking your hand, giving a polite bow--

--and walking right away.

You blinked in shock. Tendou’s mouth parted in disbelief. His head swung back and he called after Ushijima to no avail. Turning back to you, he gave a short apology and ran after his friend to scold (and tease) him.

Your mind went a bit hazy and in a natural defense mechanism, you tried to convince yourself that you were just dreaming.

You went home. Fell into your bed. Realized you were not dreaming. Cried into your pillow and fell asleep, begrudgingly waking up the next morning and getting ready for school.

---

During lunch, you stayed in your classroom to eat lunch alone when someone at the door told you a boy was looking for you. (You felt a bit pathetic for hoping that it was your soulmate and being disappointed when you realized it was not him.)

You recognized the boy as the redhead that accompanied your soulmate yesterday. Flinching at the memory, you asked him why he was here.

“I just wanted to say sorry, for the way my friend acted yesterday.” His expression was lighthearted and playful, if anything, but you recognized the sincerity of his words. “He tends to be a little… aloof, sometimes. But I promise you it’s not that he hates you or anything, just isn’t used to this. But he’s willing to talk to you again.”

You tried not to get your hopes up too much, and instead look at the reasonable outcomes of this whole soulmate thing. It’s not like you were really expecting love at first sight--lots of soulmates didn’t end up in a romantic relationship. Hell, your parents weren’t even soulmates but they were still very in love with each other. But at the very least, you thought your soulmate wouldn’t just walk away after meeting you.

You took the redhead’s offer, packed up your half-eaten bento, and followed him to his own classroom a few doors down.

Your soulmate was there--you still didn’t know his name--and his head perked up at the sound of the sliding door opening. His expression was stagnant, which dampered your spirits the slightest bit and made you consider spinning on your heel and locking yourself in the bathroom for the rest of the school day.

You sat with the two of them, knees clenched together and gaze focused solely on the bento box resting on your lap. None of you spoke. Tendou’s eyes flitted between the both of you in expectance.

“So,” he spoke up, thankfully breaking the bout of stifling silence. “[Name], you wanna tell us a little about yourself? We don't really know much about you outside of… the very little we learned yesterday, so…?”

Your mouth gaped and closed rapidly, trying to find a good way to describe yourself without either seeming like an interviewee or a self-absorbed rando.

“I’m… [Name]. I’m seventeen… in class one. I’m in the photography club.” There wasn’t much else to say, you thought. You were a very normal person. Maybe too normal to really be worthy of having a close bond with your soulmate, but a small part of you still sort of hoped.

“Wakatoshi, your turn.”

The taller boy blinked into his bento (hayashi rice, you noted. Something you were able to cook, if you tried hard enough) before speaking. His voice was deep and embarrassingly, you flushed at the way it rumbled within his throat.

“I’m the captain of the volleyball team.”

Okay. So. No age. No name (except for ‘Wakatoshi,’ which you only pulled from what Tendou said). Just his club.

With a lump in your throat and a prickly feeling behind your eyes, you excused yourself politely, bowing, and clutching tightly to your star-wrapped bento before leaving the classroom.

You went home. Punched your pillow before realizing you were definitely not one for using aggression as a coping mechanism and instead crying while making a cup of tea. Went to bed and woke up the next morning trying to forget all of the events of the past two days.

---

A week passed. Somewhere within that time, Tendou had exchanged numbers with you as a polite formality, a deeper meaning ingrained in his offer (one that you read as, “hey, I know it must be really disappointing to realize that your soulmate has absolutely no clue what romance is and no ambition for anything but hitting a volleyball, but if you ever wanna talk about it then hit me up!” You couldn’t deny that you still appreciated it).

You took the week to avoid interacting with Wa-ka-to-shi, never texting Tendou and asking to eat lunch with them or even showing up at his practice like some of their fans did (you were a bit surprised to learn that the volleyball team had fans). But you had a breaking point, as you often did whenever it came to your faux-shunning.

You texted Tendou, hoping that you weren’t that unlucky that he was still at volleyball practice and had his phone out for the captain to view.

does he like hayashi rice?

“Read” appeared under your text. You waited for the three dots to appear, which took an unnervingly long time to happen.

yup! how’d u know??

he was eating it when i had lunch with you guys.

ur observant!!

i guess. do you guys have morning practice tomorrow?

yup! starts at 7. fourth gym :) see you there!!

You paused. Tendou was nice. Also very observant. Scarily observant, enough to catch onto what you were trying to do. It made you a bit wary, but to be fair, you weren’t really being discreet in the first place.

Your mother asked you multiple times why you were cooking beef stew at nine PM, far past dinnertime. You were scared to admit that it was for a soulmate, so you instead settled for “friend” and she (very suspiciously) let you be in the kitchen.

You packed the food into four bento boxes. One for your mom, your dad, Wa-ka-to-shi, and you. (You couldn’t help the annunciation of each syllable of his name. It was just so fun to say, so fun to click against the back of your tongue repeatedly. You blamed the affinity for his name on your soulmate bond.)

You went to bed. Woke up extra early. Disregarded the concerned look your parents gave you when you left the house half an hour early with two bentos in hand.

Just as Tendou said, there was the squeaking of the volleyball team from within Gym Number Four. You hovered outside, a text sent to Tendou asking if you were allowed to come in as you awkwardly shifted the weight on your feet.

yup!! we’re taking a break right now. just come right in, i’ll be waiting for u at the door

He was waiting for you at the door, but so was Wakatoshi (you figured you should drop the somewhat-annoying pronunciation of each letter), which threw you into a stammering loop as you blinked between the both of them.

“Good morning.” Wakatoshi greeted you politely, nodding his head at you. You repeated the gesture before extending a bento box to him, with your favorite star cloth wrapping it in the neatest way you could manage.

“It’s for you. For lunch. Or dinner. Or whenever. It’s hay-- um, hayashi rice.”

Wakatoshi didn’t take it. You cringed at the lack of action and a familiar lump manifested in your throat. The stoic boy blinked down at the childish wrap and you found yourself wishing you took a solid colored furoshiki instead of this one.

In a moment of boldness, you shoved the box into his chest where he instinctively reached for it and held it.

“I hope you like it!” You said it louder than intended and flinched at the sudden gazes on you from the other members of the team further into the gym. “Have a good day.”

A polite bow, and you were on your way, cursing yourself for taking the effort to make a decent-quality meal for a soulmate, a boy who barely even glanced at you without his friend giving him the hint to do so.

During lunch, you didn’t feel hungry, and the bento sat untouched on your desk for the whole break. You ended up letting your parents have the leftovers when you got home. Your appetite was gone for the rest of the day.

(Tendou ended up bringing you back your box and cloth the next day, wordlessly apologizing for having to be the messenger of your belongings rather than the person you actually gifted it to in the first place. You took it back with a resigned sigh and a thankful smile.)

---

The morning you stopped by, Tendou rolled his eyes after your departure and he gave his friend a firm, but friendly pat on the back.

“Why are you so awkward, Wakatoshi? That’s your soulmate, you know. You could at least be a little courteous towards her?”

Said man stayed silent, still leering at the patterned furoshiki covering the lunch you made for him--specifically him; the concept sent an unfamiliar fluttering through his chest that he didn’t dare to look into.

“Why would she make this for me?”

Tendou rolled his eyes again, letting out an audible groan.

“I just explained it to you, ‘Toshi! She likes you. You’re her soulmate. You could at least tell her thank you.”

“I will, next time.”

Tendou’s eyes narrowed at that. You seemed like a spontaneous person, from the few interactions you’d had with each other. (That, and the fact that after a week of ghosting your own soulmate you suddenly decided to make an entirely specialized lunch for him.) He wanted to half-joke and say ‘I don’t really know when the next time will be, exactly,’ but figured that may lead into another Q & A With Ushijima Wakatoshi, and instead let the captain simmer in his own contemplation for now.

---

You didn’t know Semi Eita very well. He was in your class, and you chatted a fairly reasonable amount with him, even going as far as to sit and eat with him in the classroom whenever he claimed he was “too tired to deal with his friends in the cafeteria.” As much of a “friend” of his you could be considered, you didn’t know much of him past what he was on the surface.

Nevertheless, you still knew him better than your soulmate. And that petty realization may have contributed to why you accepted his offer for a cafe date.

Semi approached you during lunch one day, not embarrassed in the slightest when he asked you if you wanted to go to a new cafe with him on Friday. “It can be a date, if you want,” he’d told you, eyes flitting to the side momentarily before meeting yours again. “But it doesn't have to be. We can just hang out.”

A bit flustered, you still accepted his offer, figuring a day out wouldn’t do much harm. He smiled at your response, asking you to meet him at his gym after his volleyball practice ended.

You didn’t think much of it. He certainly didn’t pressure you into assuming it was a date, and if you didn’t like it then you could just turn him down for a second date and move on with your single life.

On Friday afternoon, at five PM like he specified over text, you walked into the doorway of the gym, hovering and watching some of the boys clean up any spare equipment left in the gym. You couldn’t spot Semi anywhere, and moved to back away from the door when a familiar voice stopped you.

“[Name].” The sound of your first name coming from the rumble of your voice unwillingly sent shivers through your spine and you chastised yourself for the reaction.

You looked at him, and there he was--sweaty, all dark-hair and olive-eyes and you hated how flustered you got.

You gave him a polite nod and forced your lips into a smile. Despite you not responding verbally, he (uncharacteristically) led the conversation.

“It’s nice to see you here.” The words felt forced, almost rehearsed on his lips, and you couldn’t help the cock of your head in curiosity at that. “The food you made me last time was very good.” A pause, and his eyes turned to the polish wood floor. “Are you here to bring another gift?”

Wakatoshi was straightforward with his question, and at the unfamiliar aloofness you found your ears turning warm and fingers grasping at each other in habit.

“No, um-- I’m actually here to see… someone.”

“...someone?”

“Yeah. Someone.” You didn’t feel like elaborating, and by some sheer luck that you mentally praised the gods for, Semi jogged to your side, changed into his school uniform and a kind smile crossing his face.

“Hey.” He greeted you, turning up to his captain in confusion before focusing on you again. “Ready to go?”

Your eyes were forced off of Wakatoshi’s, and you returned Semi’s expression with a nod. You refused to look the captain in his eyes again, and instead focused on making sure you didn’t trip on the sidewalk while walking with Semi.

---

The date-- hang out-- outing-- whatever you wanted to call it went nicely. You both had pleasant, lighthearted, not-forced conversation over very good coffee and you found it enjoyable.

By the end of the night, while Semi walked you back home, you figured you had to address what you were a bit nervous to address in the first place. After explaining your hesitancy towards calling your hang-outs “dates,” Semi ultimately brushed it off, a smile on his face as he told you he really didn’t care too much and would enjoy just being a friend to you.

You were relieved. A quiet voice deep inside your head told you to not let this poor boy get hopeful when you were still trying to settle things with (read: get over) your soulmate. Regardless of secondhand reasoning, you were thankful he was understanding and also thankful he was willing to be a friend.

---

You found yourself eating lunch with Semi a bit more often than before. It was nice to have someone else’s presence near you while you ate rather than having to sit alone and people-watch through the window of the classroom.

You were startled when Wakatoshi appeared in the doorway of your classroom while in the midst of a conversation with Semi. Noticing your mildly dumbfounded expression, Semi turned around to see where you were looking and looked confusedly at the form of his fellow teammate.

Wakatoshi nodded at him, turned to you, and gave a wave and a very, very subtle upturn of his lips. (Despite the subtlety of the gesture, you had to suppress a gasp that threatened to break past the back of your throat.)

He didn’t make a move to approach you, so you took the opportunity to walk up to him and meet him at the door, unintentionally avoiding the questions Semi shot at you in confusion.

“Hi,” you greeted stiffly. “Do you need something?”

“No. Yes.” Wakatoshi paused, collecting his thoughts. “I was wondering if you wanted to eat lunch with me.”

It was an unexpected offer, one you deemed uncharacteristic coming from the aloof boy. You let your mind overprocess it before cutting off your overthinking and giving him a proper response.

“I’m eating lunch with Semi today. But maybe tomorrow, if you still want to.”

A foreign look of confusion appeared on his face, his brows furrowed together and head tilting slightly to the side. “Are you dating Semi?”

Wow. Okay. Very straightforward. Very sudden. You certainly were not dating Semi, and you didn’t know how he managed to draw that conclusion after seeing you and Semi interact a total of two times in his presence.

“I’m not…? Why are you so worried about that?”

“Because we’re soulmates.”

Your stomach churned in a mix of emotions. You didn’t know how to describe your feelings--it was an ugly mesh of annoyed, angry, confused, and on-the-verge-of-tears. You found it a bit funny that only now he was acknowledging your soulmate bond. It made the prickling sensation behind your eyes only increase in intensity.

“Right. Um, you… you didn’t really do much about that before.” You tried not to call out word-for-word what he did, but figured a jab at it wouldn’t send you into guiltily reflecting on your past actions while in the shower at midnight.

He was silent, avoiding your gaze and finding interest in the cracked wood of the door. Before your subconscious forced you to apologize, you gave a polite farewell and slid the door halfway shut before returning to your seat.

Semi stared at you incredulously. “Are you…?”

“I don’t know, man.” Despite the sudden lack of appetite (yet again! You really were not good at any form of confrontation), you forced yourself to nibble on your food and pushed down the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach.

---

Wakatoshi made a point to run into at any time he saw fit, which was very often. He’d find ways to catch you in the morning and say hi, and always invited you to eat lunch with him in his classroom. Out of courtesy, you often accepted his offer, feeling a bit surprised (and wary) when Tendou didn’t appear to accompany the both of you. Those lunch periods were spent in jarring silence, Wakatoshi slowly eating his food (cutely, you noted before burning that thought into the fiery recesses of hell in your mind) and you eating yours while sweating and hoping that you didn’t look weird when you chewed.

This routine kept going on for a solid week. You didn’t know what to expect anymore. Other than the lunch invitations and morning small talk, he didn’t make any outstanding gestures towards you to try to get closer. You didn’t know if that was good or bad.

One day, during lunch when you’d hesitantly accepted yet another offer to eat with him (ignoring Semi’s teasing look when you left the classroom), he made another strange offer, diverting from the usual discussions of weather, clubs, and schoolwork.

“I have a game soon.” He started off. “I’d like you to come watch.”

You paused, staring into your rice in an empty hope that it’d give you a clue on how to respond.

“It’s on Saturday. At twelve. The gymnasium isn’t too far from here. I’d like to take you to dinner afterwards.”

Oh. Oh. That was unexpected. And you were expecting the unexpected. Then again, maybe you should’ve figured that eventually he may have made some sort of move after waiting a week with bated breath.

Your lips parted, but no noise escaped. You wanted to accept, definitely, but you also wanted to be a little aware of his intentions.

“Um…” You floundered a little bit, “I’ll see if I can make it. But… um, dinner?”

“Yes.” Though his voice was steady and deep as always, you sensed hesitance in the way his eyes shifted away from yours and into his lunch. “A date.”

It was a relief to hear him just say it rather than beating around the bush. You cleared your throat in habit and scratched the skin of your thumb.

“Oh. Okay. That would… be nice.”

He smiled. It wasn’t the occasional tilt of his lips, it was a smile. Stretched lips, crinkled eyes and all. You lost your breath at the sight and a soundless laugh escaped your lips.

“Yes. I think so too.”

It was a slow start. It would take some getting used to. But you were both willing to guide each other, slow and steady.

[winterhawkwonderland]

2020 Exchange Round up!

It’s here!!! An easy to find complete list of works from our 2020 Winterhawk Wonderland Exchange event. It is listed by title of work and author or artist, and includes rating, summary, and word count (if applicable). Our event excluded any of the AO3 Big Four warnings, but please do check tags and warnings on each work before diving in, just in case you find something there that squicks or triggers you!

Once again, thank you all so much for participating and making this a great event! Love the Winterhawk fandom!

If you do not see your work listed, please contact the Mods and we will update the post - all works were pulled from the AO3 Collection, but it’s possible we overlooked something or made a mistake! Additionally - Tumblr (in true Tumblr fashion) would not let us tag some creators - their names are on the list but the hyperlink doesn’t work. We apologize for the technical difficulty, but have no way of fixing broken Tumblr links. Please know that no offense was intended. 

The 300 Club by @fosterthefuture for @gwhell. Rated T, 10,109 words “Me here?” Bucky asks, a little hysterically. “What do you expect me to do, be the one to haul your frozen body in from the snow bank you inevitably fall into and die in?”Clint chuckles, as though what Bucky’s asked is completely illogical, which it decidedly is not. “Nah, you can suit up if you want to come along to make sure I stay on track, but I’ll make it back just fine. I really just need you to be here to make sure the door stays open, help me get my boots off and into those blankets when I get back.”“Clint,” Bucky asks, eyes now closed. “Please tell me you wouldn’t do this if you were completely alone.”The silence that emanates from the sauna is telling.“Well,” Clint finally says, “I’m trying to not get into the habit of lying to you, Barnes.”

40k misunderstandings by @verdantbogmoth for @flawsinthevoodoo. Not Rated, 3,280 words. “Are they real?” Bucky gasps. “Who keeps bags of real rose petals just lying on hand?”“Tony, for special random events and for us to steal to have fun with,” Clint supplies helpfully. “Where do they go?”“Everywhere,” Bucky decides. “The couch, the table, the fucking tv stand.” Clint pops the bag and they spend several minutes turning Bucky’s living area into a very perfumed, petal draped nightmare. “Oh, my god.” Bucky says gleefully. “It looks like a porno,” Clint claps. “A serial killer porno!” Bucky amends. “This is fantastic. Why aren’t rose petals everywhere, always. Why don’t more people just throw them around for any old event?”

[ART] Christmas fluff by @elynehil for @chekov-in-a-dress. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift :)

[ART] Cooking By The Book by @not-the-blue for @thegrowingwordsmith. Rated G.  Clint attempts a holiday recipe from Bucky's childhood. He... might need a second attempt.

[art] i (heart) hawkeye by @gwhells for @lantaniel. Rated G. Art for lantaniel for the Winterhawk wonderland gift exchange!

[ART] i still feel this way when light catches your face by @quicksillver for @sevdrag. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift! :)

An Affinity for Elf Culture by @bella-dahlia for @trekchik. Rated T. 8,501 words. When Bucky Barnes was told he would be doing press and community outreach as part of his prosthetic program, no one mentioned to him it would involve dressing up like an Elf from the North Pole.The hella cute blonde elf in head to toe purple hadn't been brought up either.Hiding in his hoodie wasn't going to be an option, was it?

All I Want for the Holidays Is You by @merelypassingtime for @flowerparrish. Rated G. 7,205 words. Clint obligingly took the last name in the hat. Unfolding it he read the name, Bucky. Crap. What was he supposed to do with that? When Clint draws Bucky’s name for the Avengers holiday gift exchange, he struggles to find the perfect gift.

as long as it’s with you by @theproblemwithstardust for @theonlyceeceej. Rated T. 2,651 words. Clint didn’t know when the thing between him and Bucky became an actual thing. At some point the banter had evolved from a fun and engaging way to pass the time into a weirdly competitive game of flirting chicken.

A bad day turned good by @gabrielsammysangel for @misterknife. Rated G. 1,115 words.  Clint Barton was having a bad day, one kiss to take it all away. Aka how a full bad day can be wipped away when you have a good boyfriend.

Bandages and Soot by @fanbinbun for @hawkguyandthewinterdude. Rated T. 2,358 words. “Oh, you’re new. Hi! I’m Clint. I come here often.” “I have been warned.” Bucky said with amusement curling his lips. “Got a name, or should I just give in and start calling you ‘hot nurse’?”

Because of Coffee and a Chocolate Doughnut. by @jazzrose343 for @loonyloopylisa. Rated M. 5,257 words. Bucky is an Actor. Clint is stunt actor and coordinator. Shenanigans Happen

Better Than Fine by @vexbatch for @theproblemwithstardust. Rated T. 4,439 words. Clint promised Kate he'd bring a plus one to her engagement party, but now he needs to find one. Maybe Bucky will do him a favor? Maybe Clint's crush on Bucky won't be a problem for said favor?

[ART] The Cat doesn't agree by @misterknife for @Inktastic1711. Rated G.  5 words. Clint was determined to get the best family photo this year. Except now he's pretty sure that fighting alien hoards or doombot armies might actually be easier than wrangling a cat into a sweater.Bucky says that Alpine's sorry.Clint thinks she might kill him in his sleep.

cause it's just what you must do by @sevdrag for yamyamyam. Rated T. 3,399 words. Clint ducks away at Tony's holiday party for a breather. Little does he know this closet is occupied.

Christmas With the Barnes's by @jstabe for @claraxbarton. Rated T. 3,163 words. He knows Clint is nervous. If he’s honest, he is a little too. He and Clint have been dating just shy of two years but with their hectic work schedules, it’s rare for them to have full days off together so Clint isn’t used to large family gatherings.

The Common Room by @trekchik for @nana-evans. Rated E. 1094 words. No one knows they're together. Right?

Communication is key by @averyrogers83writes for @harishe-art. Rated G. 3,434 words. Bucky screws up and pisses Clint off possibly ruining any chance of having more than a working relationship with the archer.

[ART] Cookies For Two by madnerding for @hopelessly-me. Rated G. 29 words.  My prompt was for cookie decorating and I hope I delivered. Enjoy!

Coping Mechanisms by @mariana-oconnor for @feathers-and-cigarettes. Rated E. 4,321 words. After the events of Freefall, Clint Barton is exhausted, bruised and on everyone's Most Wanted list. Luckily, or unluckily, it's Bucky Barnes who ends up finding him.

Cover Me by @downwarddnaspiral for @feedmecookiesnow. Rated M. 8,618 words. Clint and Bucky end up off the grid and in close quarters. Featuring the world’s crappiest safehouse, a semi-retired spy, and an assassin with strong opinions about the cold.

Delicate, hand wash only by @mollynoble for @pherryt. Rated E. 6,074 words.  “Hey, Buck, what do you need?” Clint moved closer, he wanted to reach out but he resisted the urge, that could be a bad idea right now. “What can I do to help?” He pitched his voice low and soothing. There was a pause, then Bucky's eyes focused on him. “Right now all I want is a bath and then sleep.”

Draw Me Like One of Your Frenchmen by @alchemistdoctor for @thwip. Rated M. 1,410 words. This is written for andthwip in the winterhawk wonderland exchange, who requested sexting during inappropriate times, date night ends in trying a new kink, or getting off in the field. I managed the first two!

Fate or Natasha by bear_shark for @kidd-you-not. Rated G. 1,663 words.  How it ended: Bucky watched the rise and fall of Clint’s chest while he slept. Every few minutes, he would snuffle and rub his face against Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s phone pinged, and he carefully checked his texts. Natasha: How did your date with Clint go? Bucky sat up quickly, jostling Clint. “What the hell?” 

The Fight Before Christmas by @theonlyceeceej for @jstabe. Rated E. 4,040 words. Now, don’t let it be said that Bucky couldn’t take a joke. He could. Really. But sometimes it was just too much. Clint was just too much. Clint is the epitome of a schoolboy with a crush; Pulling pigtails, calling names, the lot! Ok, maybe it was more than a crush, judging by the many thoughts about being thrown around by the Winter Soldier. He just needed to get his attention... But will it work?

For This by @endof-theline for @elynehil. Rated G. 5,652 words. Bucky and Clint are moving in together and it's not just the boys we have to worry about, because Lucky and Alpine are moving too!

Getaway Car by @feedmecookiesnow for @genderfluid-and-confuzled. Rated G. 4,405 words. The guy regains his balance and starts running again. He slips one more time, slides a little more, and then suddenly he’s right next to the car, fumbling at the handle of the passenger side door. A blast of cold wind comes as he yanks it open, practically falling into the seat in a swirl of snowflakes. “Go, go!” he yells, and Clint goes. He doesn’t even question it, just slams the car into drive and shoots out into the street, skidding a little on the ice.

Guardian Angel by @chrissihr for @spacetimeconundrum. Rated T. 3,469 words. Clint attracts strays like moths to flame. All he wanted to do was bring home a puppy he found in a box marked ‘free’ in crayon. It was just sitting out in the rain under the awning in front of his neighborhood pizza place.He couldn't just leave it there ... right?

Hit Me With Your Best Shots by @thegrowingwordsmith for @fosterthefuture. Rated G. 2,185 words. As a barista, Bucky has witnessed a lot of crazy customers and their creations. He has made drinks with so much syrup that there was barely room for coffee, and gotten orders with so many modifications that it had to print on multiple stickers. None, however, even came close to the strangeness of Too Much Caffeine guy.

[ART] How do you like them apples? by @lantaniel for @vexbatch. Rated G.  Because Clint is incapable of 1.doing a calm activity, and 2.not climbing a tree.

Howl by @drgrlfriend for @mariana-oconnor. Rated T. 9,729 words. Excerpt: Bucky gets that uncomfortable feeling again, like he missed something. Lost time maybe. It’s been happening less and less, but it still happens. “I don’t know what you mean.” The man runs a broad hand up the back of his neck, mouth pulling to the side as he seems to consider his words. “Skin feels too tight sometimes? Feels like you gotta keep moving, but no place feels right? Got an ache deep in your bones that you just can’t seem to get rid of?” “What —” Bucky swallows, the rest of the sentence jagged in his throat. He knows there are Avengers who are witches, or telepaths, or whatever, but he’d never heard of Hawkeye being one of them. “How are you — are you in my head? —”

[ART] I got you by @vexedbeverage for @gabrielsammysangel. Rated T. 100 words. I decided I wanted to do some art but then my writing brain told me I couldn't stop there. I've never done a drabble before so I thought I'd give it a try!

I Love How Your Soul is A Mix of Chaos and Art by @flawsinthevoodoo for @merelypassingtime. Rated T. 5,745 words. This is basically a 5+1 where Clint "Borrows" a great many hoodies as a coping mechanism and Bucky decides Clint needs to be a part of his life, not just his laundry.

if these wings could fly by @flowerparrish for @hawksonfire. Rated M. 4,018 words. He waits a few moments, pretty sure he’s going to have to start knocking again, when the door swings open. There’s Bucky, shirtless, disheveled, wings spread out behind him like some kind of tragic painting of an angel. Not that Clint knows much about art, but with the dark colors and dim lights he thinks this could totally have been something one of those old dudes dreamed up.

It Must be Winter in my Heart by @harishe-art for @jazzrose343. Rated G. 3,055 words. It's the holiday season and for some reason Clint and Bucky keep getting mistaken as a couple. They hadn't even planned to meet up most of them time. Why does this keep happening to them?

It was Only a Winter's Tale by @harishe-art for @averyrogers83. Rated G. 1,628 words.  Clint and Bucky prepare to celebrate their first winter holiday together when Bucky has a realization during an argument.

it was peace by @loonyloopylisa for @drgrlfriend. Rated G. 1,932 words. “Um, hi, I’m Bucky?” he said, hating himself for the way it came out like a question. “Hi Bucky,” the man answered, a wide smile on his tan face, “I’m Clint. What can I do for you?” Inwardly thankful for this therapist for making him practice he said, “I was wondering if you had any volunteer opportunities?” Clint gave him a considering look, bright blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Bucky was sure he was assessing him and finding him lacking, taking in the missing arm and coming up with a reason Bucky wouldn’t fit in. He was bracing himself for the rejection when Clint said, “sure.”

A Kind of Magic by @sian1359 for bear_shark. Rated G. 7.034 words. Bucky has some help adapting from being Hydra's Winter Soldier to becoming the Avenger's Winter Soldier

Lilac you a lot by @hawkguyandthewinterdude for @harishe-art. Rated T. 6,490 words.  It starts with one purple sock and just escalates from there.

Lost Time by @lissadiane for @vexedbeverage. Rated T. 10,029 words. Clint’s always known the universe doesn’t like him all that much. But all he knows now, as his heart beats out a rhythm and there isn’t a heartbeat to harmonize with it, is that he’s found his soulmate -- and he’s been dead for over 70 years. It’s ironic. It burns. It shouldn’t surprise him. Barney won’t be surprised. Barney’s been saying the universe has it out for them for Clint’s whole life. And this is just further proof. In which soulmates exist but Clint's parents are proof that sometimes, they go terribly wrong.

The Maybe To Your Story by @kangofu-cb for @mollynoble. Rated E. 5,162 words. Bucky walked out of the shared bathroom whistling under his breath, happily ignoring Steve’s groan as he whipped off the towel around his waist to half-assedly swipe at the water droplets on his shoulders. “Oh, you’re still here?” he asked blithely, toweling at his hair. “Might want to shake a leg before you get an eyeful of something you want to see even less than my dick.” “I’m going, I’m going,” Steve grumbled. “Fuck. Can’t believe I’m getting sexiled for the third time this week. For Barton.” Or, instead of talking about their feelings, Clint and Bucky decide to fuck about it.

my hands no longer an afterthought by @shatteredhourglass for @quicksillver. Rated T. 2,922 words. Bucky's moving on with his life. Shaking off the Soldier. There's still that one nagging, blond idiot-shaped regret, though.

Nowhere to go but with you by Lacerta for @sian1359. Rated G. 5,905 words. Clint fights the urge to cross his arms, keeping them hanging loosely by his sides instead, and forces himself to relax his shoulders. It’s just a small precaution in case he needs to react fast but, god, he hopes it doesn’t come to that. He doubts any precaution that doesn’t include a loaded weapon would help him last more than a minute. He watches the man sitting across the kitchen table from him, curled in on himself under Clint’s warmest blanket with his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and tries to wrap his head around the very unusual, very alarming situation he has gotten himself into.

On The Fifth Day of Christmas, The Winter Soldier Stole For Me..... by @ch3ls3ara3 for @alchemistdoctor. Rated T. 8,178 words.  “Are these pears? Why the hell is there a pear tree in my apartment?” he asked Lucky who was now sitting patiently, staring up at the bird with his tongue hanging out and tail wagging. “What is happening?” Clint Barton knew he was a disaster, it never really shocked him anymore when he ended up in strange situations. These twelve days leading up to Christmas, though? Those days he would have never seen coming.

the one where Clint hates christmas horror by @thwip for @bella-dahlia. Rated M. 2,898 words. “We take turns, Clint. This week is Nat’s turn, next week is yours,” Tony quips, sipping from his own mug. “We can watch The Holiday, for the third year in a row, then.” Clint opens his mouth and starts to protest Tony’s eye roll because The Holiday is a cinematic masterpiece and Kate Winslet may give her best performance yet, Tony! Not to mention Cameron Diaz! Singing Mr Brightside! It’s a great film, when the front door opens and Bucky and Steve walk in, laughing about something. Clint's mouth snaps shut and his eyes immediately flicking towards Bucky, admiring the way the navy fabric of his henley clings to the thick biceps that are almost bursting out of it.

Operation Snowbound by RedTeamShark for @heartonfirewrites. Rated G. 4,048 words. The mission is a simple job: tag a convoy as it drives through the pass and then skedaddle back down the mountain. Easy enough that Clint could do it in his sleep. And he doesn’t even have to pull the trigger, that’s what Bucky’s there for. Until an unexpected weather event leaves the two of them stranded on a mountainside in a blizzard, battling the cold, Clint’s taste in coffee, and Bucky’s idea of idle conversation.

Outside the World by @pherryt for @verdantbogmoth. Rated G. 4,767 words. Bucky doesn't really remember who he is, and what little he does remember is impossible. All his therapists have said so. There's no way he can be who he thinks he is - a character from a children's book.And yet, the world around him just doesn't *feel* right - its too dark, too colorless and doesn't match the vibrancy of his dreams. Dreams he tries to capture both on paper and on his walls.Bucky doesn't have any answers he can count on, just the hat he's kept all these years, but that guy that started following him - as vibrant and eye-catching as the pieces of Bucky's dreams -Well, he just might.

The Prince's "Delivery Boy" by allyouneedissleep for @endof-theline. Rated T. 4,917 words. He wouldn’t have any issues at all with the secrecy rules stating that only people in confirmed legal marriages could tell their significant other about their job if he was planning to marry anyone except the Prince who was first in line to take over as King of Brooklyn after his marriage went through. Clint was about to effectively become Queen of Brooklyn and he couldn’t even tell his fiance what he did for a living. As far as Bucky knew, he was a delivery boy. A DELIVERY BOY.

[ART] Snow Way Out! by @inktastic1711 for @fanbinbun. Rated G. 24 words. Prompt: While on a mission, Clint and Bucky end up on an impromptu sledding trip down the snowy hill/mountain to escape the bad guys. Bonus points if the sled isn't actually a sled.

Snowed In by @chekov-in-a-dress for @ch3ls3ara3. Rated T. 4,332 words.  Secret Santa Story for CarafeOfColdBrew! Dad Bucky and his daughter Nat are on their way to Bentonsport where Bucky is supposed to check out a possible site to build a resort when they get overwhelmed by a snowstorm. How lucky that they get pointed to a bed and breakfast owned by a certain handsome dork.

So much to say (I just can't speak) by @hopelessly-me for Allyouneedissleep. Rated T. 3,260 words. Bucky has never considered himself the jealous type. But when Steve and Clint start hanging out more and more, Bucky starts pulling back to protect his own feelings.

Some Luck by @claraxbarton for @not-the-blue. Rated T. 3,558 words. “Cowboys?” he asked. Judith smiled at him. “I love to give my darlings what they want.”

a storm is comin' in by @heartonfirewrites for @chrissihr. Rated T. 9,686 words. Sasquatches don’t exist. Clint is sure of it. So what’s that fuckin' bigass yeti doing outside Tony’s upstate cabin in the middle of a nor’easter, looming ominously and ruining Clint’s plans for a quiet Christmas alone with Lucky?

Time and Time Again by @pherryt for @shatteredhourglass. Rated E. 6,497 words. The past has a way of catching up to people and Clint knows that better than most. Despite that ingrained life lesson, he still doesn't expect it when a part of Steve's past turns out to also be part of Clint’s. He's... not sure where to go from here.

too cold to feel (but i know you're there) by @hawksonfire for @trashcanakin. Rated T. 1,983 words.  Clint’s been cold his whole life. He doesn’t mind, really, has learned to always keep a pair of gloves on him, even in the summer. He gets weird looks for it, but he stopped caring what people thought of him a long time ago. His apartment has always got spare blankets laying around, and his dresser is jam packed with thick pairs of socks.

[ART] A Walk in the Woods by @spacetimeconundrum for @downwarddnaspiral. Rated T.  One finds the strangest things in the woods...

What's a Guy Like You Doing in a Place Like This by @sevdrag for @kangofu-cb​. Rated T. 8,091 words. A 5+1 fic for Winterhawk Wonderland: Five Times It Wasn't A Date, and One Time It Actually Was.

Word Search by yamyamyam for RedTeamShark. Rated T. 3,858 words. Bucky doesn't understand why he should have to see a doctor about a measly little bullet wound. Steve doesn't understand why that would be optional, Jesus Christ, Buck, we can have nice things now. Clint doesn't understand why he can't visit Bucky in the super-secure lockdown ward. The NYFD doesn't understand why Clint can't get out of a baby swing without the jaws of life. Natasha doesn't understand why she puts up with any of these idiots.

[ART] You Come Here Often? by @trashcanakin​ for Madnerding. Rated G.  winterHawk in the vents.

You had me at Loathing by @kidd-you-not​ for Lacerta. Rated T. 5,715 words. "What?" he asks absolutely no one, completely baffled. Movement to his left catches his eye and he twists around, still hanging from the balcony railing by his legs, and gapes. There, right there on the adjourning apartment building, is a man. A man clad all in black, with chestnut brown hair falling to his chin and a mask covering the lower part of his face. Holding a sniper rifle in his right hand and giving Clint a mocking little salute with the left. "Motherfucker!" Clint screams. Hawkeye and the Winter Soldier work for competing companies. Unfortunately for everyone involved, they cross paths on more jobs than either of their handlers can endure.

Honorable Mention:

The Opposite of Love by @teeelsie-posts for @loonyloopylisa. Rated E. 10,000 words. You know that social media post where the guy says he’s a felon and he’ll come terrorize your family for Thanksgiving in exchange for a free meal? Yeah, that’s what this is. Except that Clint is Clint, and Bucky is Bucky, and they’re both Avengers, but Clint’s family is a bunch of assholes and Bucky decides to help him out with that. Oh, and it’s Christmas, not Thanksgiving. Mod Note: This fic was begun for last year’s exchange then discarded for another idea, but Teeelsie finished it unexpectedly and asked permission to include it in this year’s collection and we were happy to allow that. Please enjoy!

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

a notification noise that alerts you to the fact that ITS OFFICIALLY FIC TIME! let's see what Barbara and Adam are gettin up to

The house in Winter River is a dream come true. Barbara loves her city, of course, loves the vibrant personality of New York, and especially loves the food, but loving it, and wanting to be there forever, are two very different things. Winter River is quiet. Sleepy. Quaint. Every morning, she wakes up next to her husband, and she and Adam brew coffee together, and they start their day. Maitland Hardware is the county’s only hardware shop, so business is not bad, not at all, but to supplement their income, she works from home, or the library, or the coffee shop, if she feels like sitting and listening to small down chatter, and uses her laptop to do some accounting for the company she left, back in New York. She and Adam always eat lunch together, her bringing him something, either from home or one of the few places around town, and everyone who meets the Maitlands tells them they’re such a lovely couple, so kind, so cheerful, such a wonderful addition to the community.

But something’s missing.

Sometimes, late at night, as she and Adam lay down to sleep, Barbara will get a feeling, one that makes her afraid. It’s not the fear that someone has come into the house, it’s the fear that someone has left it, only she can’t remember who. On those nights, after Adam has drifted off to dreamland, she rises, and goes from room to room, searching, trying to understand what exactly her brain is telling her is missing. She passes by unfinished rooms, a million unchecked boxes on their list of restoration for their beautiful historic home, and each time, her mind only settles and calms once she reaches the basement. There’s a striped hoodie down there, black and white and garish, one she and Adam had found in the house, after their return from Emily’s funeral.

They had put it down here, unsure of who it belonged to, but not wanting to throw it out. The garment is well loved, with a multitude of stains that don’t wash out, and sloppy stitches in black embroidery thread on either arm, like the person doing the mending was a very small child, or otherwise inexperienced with a needle and thread. She gathers it up in her arms, inhales the smell of it, which is like freshly turned earth and creeping moss, and tries to recall who it could belong to, but she’s never able to pull a name, or even a face, from any corner of her mind, and each time, she has to give up, and retreat back upstairs, back to bed, and she’s more exhausted the next morning than makes sense.

When she tries to express this to Adam, he can only frown, and cock his head. “It’s just nerves, from the move. The house is still new to you,” her husband assures her. “There’s no one missing, Barb. You’re alright. We’re together,” and he says it so softly, so sincerely, she tries to force herself to forget it. “What you’re missing is a baby,” their elderly neighbor tells her, over coffee and pie. Their house on the hill is lacking in neighbors, and Mrs. Cheatham doesn’t exactly live close, but the elderly woman had been the first person to welcome them into the community, and she’s clearly lonely, so Barbara makes time to talk to her, to invite her in, and to share the sweets she’s always bringing, the ones that Mrs. Cheatham is always happy to tell her are “from the store.”

“Nothing will fix your restlessness like filling this house full of children,” the old woman says, knowingly, and Barbara can only smile. “I’m not sure we’re ready for that. There’s still so much to do, around here. We don’t want to go jumping into things.” “You won’t be young forever, sweet thing!”

Maybe not, but isn’t twenty three young to start a family? They’ve got time, don’t they? Why do they need to rush into parenthood, like it’s a race? Maybe they’ll be ready next year, and maybe they’ll be ready in ten years, but either way, they want to be certain things are in order before they start trying to bring a bundle into the world. She lays awake, next to Adam, that night. He’s reading quietly, the antique, refurbished tiffany lamps on either of their bedside tables dimmed, and she studies the ceiling above them. Their bedroom had been the first thing the three of them-

She blinks.

Their bedroom had been the first thing the two of them had worked to restore, when they’d first bought the house, a year and seven or so months ago. It had been slow going, because they were interrupted often, usually by each other, and she remembers fondly the kisses, the playful pinches, the teasing, all of them so in love, so excited to have a place for the three of them-

She squints up at the ceiling, studying the wood grain, her train of thought running out of tracks, for a moment, before she’s able to resume it.

So excited to have a place for the two of them. Maybe three, eventually. That must be what she’d meant. Maybe a baby is what’s missing, maybe this is normal, for a person who wants to be a mother, to think about things in threes, to feel like there’s a third person they’re forgetting, because that person doesn’t exist yet. That must be it. But should she be feeling this sad?

Her phone buzzes, as does Adam’s, and they both reach for their devices, checking them at the same time, to see the message from Lydia, which the teenager had sent to their group chat. “I miss you,” it reads, simply, and then as they watch, a second one loads. “Can I come visit, please? It’s lonely here.”

Her heart aches, as she sits up, running a hand through her long blonde hair. She adores Lydia like a little sister, and she feels a stab of guilt, at how absent they’ve been from the teen’s life, lately. She’s going through so much. Emily’s recovery had been a miracle, and her death a cruel joke, like the universe had decided the only thing funnier than making a child watch her mother wither to nothing could be giving that mother back, in full health, before yanking her away, with a random unpreventable blood clot to the brain.

“Poor Lydia,” Adam says, softly, and she looks back at him. He’s put his book down, to focus on the texts, and he adjusts his glasses, before looking back up at her. “We should have her come stay. Maybe Charles, too. The guest room is almost finished, and she might like sleeping in the living room. That couch is comfortable.” They’ve got the space for multiple guest rooms, but only one is finished enough to actually accommodate someone staying. There’s also a space set aside for what will eventually be a nursery, a bright, sunny room that they’d very enthusiastically painted first, the actual week the house had become officially theirs. It’s where they’d found that strange jacket that now lives down in the basement.

She texts the teen back. “We love you. We miss you. You’re always welcome to come stay with us. Let’s talk details tomorrow.”

She puts out her light, and settles down next to Adam, curled into his side, and shivers, involuntarily, because the room feels colder than it ever has before.

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The house in Winter River does nothing but hurt him, reminding him that everyone he’s ever loved has moved on without him. Emily, in the most spiritual sense of the word, but Lydia and Charles, too, and even Barbara and Adam. He studies the picture of their wedding in the foyer. Barbara is in the perfect long white dress, Adam so handsome in his suit, both of them smiling at the camera, not a care in the world, not missing anything. Not missing him.

It’s not their fault, he tells himself, over and over, as he drifts through the house that was supposed to be their home. If they knew he was missing, they would go looking for him. They wouldn’t have settled into disgusting domestic bliss without him. They wouldn’t have been married without him. He floats up the stairs, and pauses, terrified, by the room they’d designated as the nursery, but when he peaks in, it’s still unfurnished, no crib, no toys. At least he hasn’t missed that, which he finds the barest measure of comfort in.

He drifts into the bedroom, and watches his partners sleep, and he curls up, between them, no doubt a chilly irritation, but for a while, he’s able to pretend things haven’t gone to shit. read the rest over HERE!

[scroll-of-thought]

Building a better spirit box! part 0: Concept

It’s 2am and I’ve fallen down a rabbit hole. Long story short, I’m thinking of using technomancy to build a better ghost hunting spirit box. Now, onto the wall of text.

I’ve been into ghost hunting shows lately, but man, as a witch and a former ghost hunter, it really annoys me how some of them handle investigations. Stuff like “use this device to communicate with us” is not going to resonate with the spirit of a human who was alive when radios took up the majority of a room, or a natural spirit who might sense electricity, but doesn’t grasp what a “device” even is. Like, who would take the time to actually speak with someone who says something like that. If someone handed me a phone and said “use this device to communicate” I’d look at them like an idiot.

And as someone who took several years of electronics courses, the tools and devices they use to communicate really annoy me. Spirit boxes specifically annoy me.

For the uninitiated, the concept of a spirit box is a radio that scans through stations at random in order to allow a spirit to speak with the listener. A spirit can, depending on the model of spirit box, either:

A. Manipulate the randomization of selecting radio stations, using their willpower to subconsciously select stations that would convey the message they want to send.

and/or

B. Produce their own sound through the radio, in the form of radio waves or electromagnetic interference.

I’m going to be focusing on method A, because manipulations of odds and probability is something I can relate to with my craft, and method B I’m just unsure of. My own experience tells me that most spirits are versed in an existence where imposing one’s will is important, and I don’t know any spirits that can just create radio waves or somehow modulate a frequency specifically to work on a radio. Maybe they could manipulate electrical signals, and we might touch on that as I brainstorm in this post, but we’ll focus on A first.

So here’s my problems with A and how I’m thinking about fixing them.

The problem with most spirit boxes that use method A, is that almost every spirit box just scans through radio stations, in order, using a radio’s standard scan feature without the part that makes it stop when it finds a station. There is no randomization, it’s just a cycle. And even when it is random, it’s never truly random, because randomization can’t be done digitally, it needs a seed input.

Secondly, there’s no built in way for the spirit to interface with the spirit box. At best they can stand there and think really hard about what they want the thing to say, and that’s about it. That might be enough, but I’m not confidant in the accessibility of this for lesser spirits, or spirits who don’t deal with this kind of manipulation of the natural world regularly.

My solution would be to make some kind of interface that creates the seed for randomization based on the electromagnetic signal detected by the spirit box. Maybe make this into an antenna that plugs directly into the box. I could see designing a sigil for spirit communication, then inlaying that sigil into a block of wood with copper wire, and that wire being the exposed part of antenna which is basically an EMF detector, and then feeding that signal into a digital radio scanner as the seed.

Similarly, I could see using the same sigil antenna as a direct input for a frequency modulator, and this is getting into method B a little. The way a radio wave works is by encoding data into the wave of a specific through oscillation. At it’s simplest, you could use a microphone on a transmitter to make millivolt change to the tuning voltage, which carries that along your frequency and encodes your sound. What if I skipped the mic and used the sigil antenna, encoding whatever electromagnetic noise that passed through the sigil and broadcast it to my own radio? I could just feed that directly into the speaker, but I also found a DIY transmitter that costs like $5 to make and has a range of 20 meters. I could make multiples of these, set to the same frequency, and scatter them around to listen to any spirits in the area. I still have no idea how/if a spirit could turn that fluctuation in electromagnetic noise into actual sounds, but it might be worth experimenting with.

So, I’ve been watching tutorials youtube, refreshing myself on electronics, figuring out where’s the cheapest place to order custom PCBs, missing radio shack (though I always miss radio shack, honestly), looking up parts, and all that stuff for the past few hours. And now that I’ve been watching electronics videos, and a few circuit hacking videos, youtube has recommended me a video on an electric organ made out of furbies. Adding that to watch later.

Anyhow, this has been a glimpse into this weird project I’m playing around with. I have a feeling it’s going to get way more technomancy heavy once I have a better grasp of the full concept, both spiritually and electronically. So if that’s something you’re interested in, let me know and I’ll post more about this if I ever actually finish it as a project 😀 I have way too many wip projects, so any new idea has a chance of remaining diagrams in a notebook for years.