#i sip them. im havin' a sip

[un-re-pression]

honestly fandom is doomed to be taken over by 8-year-olds who don't know words, so instead of assuming that everyone knows "shipping" a pairing DOESN'T mean you idolize them, imitate them, or want them to end up together in canon, I'm just gonna start calling it something entirely different. "Sip", maybe. 'Cause it's like what a ship is to everyone else, but a little bit less.

[blackenedsnow]

hihi please write a nathan explosion x reader with tons and tons of anxiety like its so bad 🙏 im in a rlly bad place right now and need some comfort with my boy

unsteady hands

WARNING: Mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, and emotional distress.

PAIRING: Nathan Explosion x Reader

NOTE: Thank you for the request! I had anxiety back in 9th grade so I'm just writing based off my experiences with it.

SUMMARY: Nathan Explosion was not known for his sensitivity. As the lead vocalist of Dethklok, he was used to dealing with chaos, destruction, and the occasional fan frenzy. Emotions, however, were a different beast altogether.

You were curled up on the couch, your breathing ragged and uneven. The familiar signs of a panic attack were setting in, and Nathan could see the fear in your eyes. He frowned, unsure of what to do. His massive hands hovered awkwardly in the air, hesitant to reach out. He knew how to destroy things, but fixing something so delicate was another story.

“Uh, hey,” he started, his deep voice surprisingly gentle. “You’re, uh, you're freaking out again.”

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. Nathan’s heart clenched. He wanted to help, but he had no idea how. He awkwardly patted your shoulder, the gesture stiff and unpracticed. “It’s… okay. You’ll be okay.”

But you weren’t okay, and his words didn’t seem to help. Your breathing got worse, and Nathan felt a wave of panic himself. He hated seeing you like this, so vulnerable and scared. He wanted to do more, but he didn’t know how. He felt a knot tie in his chest, he wasn't used to feeling helpless.

After what felt like an eternity, you started to calm down, your breaths becoming more even. Nathan sat beside you, feeling like he’d failed. He was supposed to protect you, but he couldn’t even do that right.

The next day, Nathan found himself in Pickles’ room. The drummer was lounging on his bed, sipping a beer and flipping through a nude magazine. He looked up as Nathan entered, raising an eyebrow.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost or somethin’.”

Nathan shifted uncomfortably, his massive frame towering in the doorway. “Uh, I need your help. With, uh… with something personal.”

Pickles sat up, intrigued. “Yeah? What’s goin’ on?”

“It’s about (Y/N),” Nathan began, his voice gruff with uncertainty. “They’ve got this… anxiety thing. Really bad. I don’t know how to help them.”

Pickles nodded slowly, setting his beer aside. “Yeah, anxiety’s a bitch. What happened?”

Nathan explained the previous night, his frustration evident. “I tried to help, but I think just made it worse. I don’t know what to do.”

Pickles thought for a moment, then spoke carefully. “Okay, here’s what ya gotta do. First, don’t try to fix it. Just be there for ‘em. Hold their hand, let ‘em know you’re there. Sometimes that’s all they need.”

Nathan listened intently, nodding along. “What else?”

“If they’re havin’ a panic attack, help ‘em breathe. Deep breaths, slow and steady. It’s all about gettin’ their body to calm down. And don’t freak out, ‘cause that’ll just make it worse.”

Nathan absorbed Pickles’ advice, feeling a glimmer of hope. “Okay. I’ll try that... thanks.”

“No problem, dude,” Pickles said with a smile. “Just remember, you care about ‘em. That’s the most important part.”

A few days later, it happened again. You were on the verge of a panic attack, your breathing erratic and your hands trembling. Nathan felt the familiar surge of helplessness, but he remembered Pickles’ advice.

He sat down beside you, his presence solid and grounding. “Hey, (Y/N),” he said awkwardly, taking your hand in his. “I’m, uh, here. I’m not going... anywhere.”

You squeezed his hand, your grip tight with fear. Nathan could feel your anxiety, but he didn’t let it show. He focused on keeping his own breathing steady, hoping you’d follow his lead.

“Breathe with me,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “In… and out. Look, like I am.”

You tried to match his breathing, your breaths shaky at first. Nathan kept his eyes on you, his hand warm and steady in yours. It took time, but gradually, your breathing slowed, your body relaxing bit by bit.

“You’re doing... good,” Nathan muttered, still unsure of himself. “Just, uh, keep breathing.”

It wasn’t perfect, and he was still incredibly awkward. His movements were stiff, and his words came out clumsily. But he stayed by your side, doing his best to help you through it. You could see the effort he was putting in, and it meant the world to you.

As the panic attack subsided, you leaned back against the couch, your body feeling heavy with exhaustion. Nathan stayed by your side, his hand still holding yours, though he was unsure if he should let go. His brow was furrowed with concern, and he seemed more uncomfortable with the aftermath of the situation than he did during the attack itself.

“Are... are you okay now?” he asked, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks, Nathan.”

He shifted awkwardly, finally releasing your hand and rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t do much,” he mumbled. “Just tried not to fuck up.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him, offering a small smile. “It helped a lot just having you here.”

Nathan grunted in response, his usual way of acknowledging something without making a big deal out of it. He got up from the couch and grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, handing it to you.

“Here. Drink this.”

You took the bottle, appreciating the gesture. “Thanks.”

He nodded and sat back down, the room falling into a comfortable silence. Nathan wasn’t good with words, but his actions spoke volumes. He was there for you, and that was enough.

[flyingwargle]

osamu sips his milk carton, idly scrolling on his phone, when a head drops on his shoulder, groan muffled in his sweater vest. dyed blonde hair tickles the side of his chin, so he tilts his neck to the side. “yer head is heavy, ya scrub,” osamu says around his straw. “go to yer own desk.”

“bein’ a captain is so much work,” atsumu complains. “did ya know we hafta run drills? coach’ll still contact other teams fer practice matches an’ whatever, but we gotta strategize. imagine makin’ strategies an' actually followin' them."

"yer right. ya might get a headache from all that thinkin’.”

“hey, one of us gotta. the only thing in yer mind is food.”

he isn’t wrong, and osamu refuses to acknowledge it, simply chews on the end of his straw between his teeth. the silence stretches until atsumu mumbles, “didja start thinkin’ ‘bout which university ta apply to?”

“sensei recommended me a few in tokyo. there are some in osaka, but i wanna go to tokyo.”

“i bet the food scene is better, too. easier fer ya to find a job an’ get experience.”

osamu puts his phone down and leans back into his chair, glancing over at the mop of hair at the corner of his eye. “what did sensei say to ya?”

“the usual. better ta go to university first, blah, blah, blah. i ain’t listening ta ‘im.”

“what about coach?”

“says any team would be lucky ta have me. just depends on which one.”

“wait ‘till the ih. i bet a buncha scouts will look fer ya.”

atsumu just hums in response, falling quiet. osamu can feel his shoulder beginning to go numb, but he doesn’t say anything, just looks out the window. it isn’t often that they’re left alone together at lunch, usually eating with suna, ginjima, and the others. suna, though, wants to establish an initiation tradition for the first-years, and went to gather inspiration from the other sports clubs. osamu didn’t want any part in it, and atsumu was called to talk with coach. if anyone thought that osamu stayed behind to wait for his brother, he wouldn’t correct them.

“did ya have time to eat?” osamu asks, since apparently all he thinks about is food.

“i ate an onigiri before meetin’ coach.”

“an’ the rest?”

“savin’ it fer after school.” atsumu’s voice grows thick, muffled. “just wanna sleep.”

the changes in responsibility from second year to third year were subtle. on top of regular practice, they’ve become mentors for their underclassmen, giving them advice or correcting their forms. last year, they left clean-up to the first-years and strategy to the third-years, but now, it's their turn to huddle around the board, evaluate everyone’s performance and progress, review potential line-ups and starting orders. although their coach has the final say, as captain and vice captain, it’s important for them to be aware of their teammates’ strengths and weaknesses, the overall team’s synergy, and what needs to be improved.

at least, that’s what osamu thinks. he still participates in strategy meetings after practice, but at home, he’d do homework while atsumu pours over starting orders and research potential drills. instead of watching funny volleyball shorts, he’d analyze recordings of old matches. their walks home are often in silence, with atsumu lost in thought. any time osamu tries to prod, all he gets is a fake smile and equally empty reassurance. “nothin’ ya need to worry ‘bout, ya scrub.”

sure, osamu has a lot on his mind as well, from researching universities, taking note of application deadlines and submission requirements, but he’s still the vice captain. everyone thought by having the twins lead, it’d make communication easier. instead, it’s the opposite.

“hey, ‘tsumu.”

atsumu gives the slightest roll of his head in response. osamu says, “ya don’t hafta do everythin’ yerself. ya can ask me for help, y’know. i’m yer vice fer a reason.”

“yer my vice ‘cause it’s better than havin’ sunarin.”

“wouldn’t he be better? he’s goin’ pro, like ya. it’d look good on applications, or whatever.”

“i don’t think the pro league would care if ya were the captain or vice in high school.”

“true, but i care that ya aren’t relyin’ more on me. it ain’t just ‘cause i’m yer brother, but ‘cause i stand beside ya. if ya do everythin’, yer gonna burnout, an’ that’s when we’ll really be in trouble.” osamu tilts his head back, rests it against his brother’s chest. “don’t think ya hafta hold back since i have my own stuff to do. i promised we’ll get through this together, yeah?”

atsumu’s mumble is faint. “yeah. just forgot ‘bout that. sorry.”

“no problem, ya scrub. so, tell me what coach wanted to talk to ya ‘bout?”

silence. osamu glances over, recognizes the familiar labored breaths in slumber. atsumu’s head has drooped over his shoulder, eyes closed. osamu smiles at him, lowers his milk carton to settle against him, closing his own eyes. they deserve to have a rest.

--

inspiration: this fanart of the twins sleeping on each other (although i accidentally reversed the positions whoops)

[hollowhornets]

vashwood slow dancing fic yippeeee

i have not written fic and posted it here in a hot minute so i apologize in advance, theyre also probably just a bit out of character but im delusional with them on the brain so we’re ignoring it

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They sat drinking in a quiet little hotel room they managed to book on short notice, both of their coats were slung over a chair in the corner leaving Wolfwood in his white button up with the sleeves rolled to his forearms and Vash in his sleeveless turtleneck that showed off his scar ridden arm and a bit more of his robotic one than what could usually be seen. After a while their slightly intoxicated conversation had managed to stumble onto the topic of dancing.

“Back at the orphanage they used to teach us how to dance, slow dancing, waltzes, everything,” Wolfwood concluded before taking a sip from his bottle.

Vash hummed and took a sip from his own bottle before replying, “Were you good at any?”

“ ‘Course I was, I was best at slow dancing and I've been perfecting it ever since”

Vash looked him up and down with an unamused sort of expression, “I'm not sure how much I believe you on that, Wolfwood.”

Wolfwood gasped dramatically and put his hand on his chest, clutching his rosary beads in his fist before responding “Are you saying you don’t think I’m a good dancer?” 

Vash glanced to his side for a moment then back to Wolfwood “..Maybe,” he replied quietly before closing his eyes and taking another sip from his bottle.

Wolfwood furrowed his brows at Vash and let his hand drop to his lap, he looked over at the small clock on the wall across the room just above where their coats were placed. He let his frown turn into a slightly mischievous grin as he turned his head back to Vash with his newly formed idea clear in his mind. “Y'know what? Instead of havin' you take my word for it,'' He sets the bottle down on the table before standing up and outstretching his hand toward Vash “I'll show you.”

Vash’s eyes widened a bit at Wolfwood, he set his own bottle on the table before questioning him, “You mean…” Wolfwood nodded once before tilting his head and holding his hand out farther, Vash looked down at his hand and stared at it for a moment, holding his own in the air just above his legs, hesitant.

“Have you ever slow danced before?” Vash looked back up at him, he chuckled a bit and shook his head, a bit relieved he didn't have to say it outright. “Well, even better, I’ll teach you,” Vash looked down at Wolfwood's hand again, sighing before letting his own reach for it.

“Are you sure? You-” He was cut off by Wolfwood suddenly grabbing his hand and yanking him out of his chair, continuing to hold it as he walked him to the door, Vash’s breath hitched as he stopped in his tracks halfway, Wolfwood looked back at him before speaking, “What's wrong? Don’t tell me you’re gettin' nervous-”

“No no no, it's not that I just…” He pointed to the door, “Why do we need to go out?”

“Well, it would be awkward without music and i'm pretty sure i saw a jukebox in the lobby-”

“Yeah, sure, but..what if someone walks in on us?”

Wolfwood sighed and let go of Vash's hand. “Spikey, look at the time,” He grabbed Vash’s jaw and turned his head towards the clock that now read ‘2:27’ When did it even get so late? He turned Vash’s head back to face him once he was sure he’d seen the clock. “No one’s up except us, now come on,” He took Vash's hand in his own again and opened the door, leading Vash down the hall and letting an ‘aha!’  leave his lips once he looked to his left and saw the jukebox. 

The only hotel for miles was this fancy, slightly expensive one, but neither of them were too keen on sleeping outside if they could help it. The unfortunate part of booking a ‘fancy’ hotel is obviously the price but the more fortunate part was things like this. He took out his wallet and inserted a coin in the slot, humming to himself a bit while flipping through his options, he settled on one he thought was fit enough for a slow dance and walked back over to Vash.

Wolfwood put one hand behind his back and held out the other to Vash while bowing a bit, “Shall we?” Vash let out a breathy laugh and took his hand while glancing around the lobby, still a bit worried about being seen, Wolfwood noticed his anxiousness and spoke up “Y'alright? We don't have to do this if you don't want to-”

“No, no, I, I want to, I’m just… nervous.”

“About dancing? You’ll do fine, you have me as your instructor after all,” He smirked and tilted his head.

Vash scoffed and raised an eyebrow at him, “What’s gotten into you tonight-” Wolfwood grabbed Vash’s left hand and placed it on his own shoulder, pressing it down and not-so-discreetly running his hand down his arm, feeling all the little scratches and imperfections in the metal for a moment before moving his hand down to Vash’s waist and pulling him closer, Vash’s eyes widened a bit and his grip on Wolfwood’s shoulder tightened, Wolfwood held Vash's other hand properly and held it out to their sides.

“Just follow my lead.”

Vash stared at him for a moment before nodding, letting himself be guided by the man holding him gently, far gentler than he expected to be handled. They swayed to the faint melody from the jukebox, quiet enough so it wouldn't wake anyone else in the hotel but loud enough that they could both hear it clearly. Vash let himself relax as they danced, maybe too much with how often he would step on Wolfwood’s foot or bump into him, all of which were accompanied by a small, barely audible ‘sorry…’ falling from the humanoid typhoon's lips a millisecond after it happened.

“Oh, but I’m the bad dancer?”

“Oh shut up, Nicholas, I’ve never done this before,” Wolfwood smiled a bit at hearing his first name from Vash, albeit in a bit of an annoyed tone. They continued to sway in unison to the music in the dark of the hotel lobby, the only light being the faint yellow glow from the jukebox and the moonlight beaming through the windows. They were far closer now, chests touching with Vash’s arm now wrapped around Wolfwood’s shoulders and Wolfwood’s hand resting on the small of Vash’s back. Vash’s head had found its home in the crook of Wolfwood’s neck, comfortably, as if it was perfectly crafted for that very purpose. 

They both knew it was far too comfortable, the guilty weight on both of their shoulders shouldn’t let them rock side to side to a gentle melody together like this, it shouldn’t let them forget everything in the others arms for a songs length of solace, it shouldn’t let them share each others warmth in a moonlit hotel lobby, yet thankfully, whatever higher being has been pulling their strings up until now, has allowed them a moment of normality, a moment to simply exist in the others company. peacefully.

Wolfwood's eyes opened at the sudden silence of the song ending, he looked over at the jukebox and then back to Vash, who was practically falling asleep in his arms, he smiled a bit before taking his hand off Vash’s waist to gently shake him by the shoulder and whisper in his ear. “Hey, Spikey,” Vash took a deep breath and hummed, nuzzling his face more into the crook of Wolfwood’s neck and hugging him tighter, Wolfwood smiled at him but clenched his jaw as to not say anything he'd regret, “I think we should get to bed.” was what he settled on. 

Vash managed to peel himself away from Wolfwood, albeit reluctantly, and look at a clock hanging on the wall. ‘2:33’. “Oh. Right,” he turned his head back to Wolfwood but kept his eyes fixated on their hands, his eyes filled with half tiredness and half disappointment. Wolfwood noticed his expression and gently moved a strand of Vash’s hair out of his eyes, cupping his face in his hand, Vash closed his eyes and leaned into his touch. After a small sigh of content his eyes opened to look into Wolfwood’s, his gaze involuntarily trailing down to his lips, he inched ever so slightly closer and Wolfwood did the same. 

Vash practically melted once their lips finally interlocked, he wrapped both of his arms around Wolfwood’s shoulders and Wolfwood rested his hands on Vash’s hips, pulling him closer and leaning him back a bit, one of Vash's hands found its way into Wolfwood's hair while the other cupped his face. They both held their breath for as long as they could, neither wanting to detach from the other for more than half a second so they could shift their positions slightly. 

The sound of a door creaking open caused them both to quickly push the other off and practically sprint 4-5 feet away from the other, Vash crossed his arms across his chest with his shoulders high, staring out of the window, Wolfwood rested one hand on his hip and rubbed the back of his neck with the other, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. They both waved at the figure that walked out of the door, it waved back before wandering down the hall quietly, once it was out of sight they both took a deep breath and slowly made their way back to each other. They stood in silence for a moment with Vash tapping his finger on his arm before Wolfwood spoke, “...We should really get back to the room-”

“Yeah I think so.”

[scapegrace74-blog]

The Man from Black Water, Chapter 3

A/N  A short intermediary chapter with no Jamie and Claire today.  With my vacation starting day after tomorrow, I should be able to get back to them in short order, but in the meantime, here is some more Murtagh being a loveable old curmudgeon.

Previous chapters are available on my AO3 page. 

“Trollop,” Murtagh swore.  “Teasin’ a man and then denyin’ him his prize.”

For good measure, he raised his wooden leg and swung it against the copper still, resulting in a deep tolling sound rather like a bell.

“Aye, jes like a woman.  Always havin’ the last word.”

Stalking out of the tiny, well-hidden hut, still muttering under his breath, Murtagh nevertheless took the time to padlock and then test the door.  There was no point giving away all his hard work to the first caird who happened by the upper reaches of Glen Isla.

The still was well hidden in a deep crack just below the ridgeline.  Using a crutch since there was no-one around to see, Murtagh navigated carefully across the boggy ground to a nearby spring that seeped directly from between the layers of the mossy cliff face.  Cupping his hand beneath the icy trickle, he drank deeply, the water so pure it was practically sweet.

“Like honey,” he pronounced, wiping stray droplets from his beard with the back of his hand.

A loose pebble tripped down the mountainside to his left.  Startled, Murtagh scanned for his rifle, realizing in dismay that he’d left it next to the still.  A long shadow blocked the morning sun.

“Dammit, Munro,” he snarled upon seeing his old friend standing on the ridge just above him, “ye near gave me a heart seizure!”

“Ye ne’er could hear anyone else when ye’re the one doin’ the talkin’,” Munro laughed, scampering easily down a gully to join Murtagh by the spring.

“How’d ye find me?”  Murtagh ignored the barb about his one-sided conversation, a superficial relief from his years of solitary existence.

“Ye auld bampot, ye leave a trail like a one-legged seed drill.”

The two men made their way back downhill towards the bothy. Murtagh wanted to insist that Munro go on ahead so that he could double back and nab his rifle, but there was no way he would risk giving away the location of the still, even to a man he’d broken bread with for over twenty years.  For his part, Hugh Munro shortened his steps and made a great show of looking around the glen, commenting on the latest sheep enclosure to divide the once-wild area and the deepening purple of the heather.  He was adept at navigating Murtagh’s pride and refusal to accept any assistance, despite being crippled.

At long last, they regained the valley floor and made their way into the bothy.  Munro’s mount and packhorse were tied next to the corral.

“Suppose ye’re hungry,” Murtagh groused as he hung an iron pot over the recently stoked fire.

“No’ nearly hungry enough fer what ye’re offerin’.  Mutton stew, is it?”

The barbs hadn’t changed in two decades and were blunt as a result.  It was a comforting ritual, as familiar to them as listening to the liturgy in church, and almost as infrequent.

“Ye’re a cold man, Munro.  The only way tae warm a heart such as yers is wi’ some whisky.”

Grabbing the unlabeled bottle from the mantle, Murtagh set about pouring two healthy portions.  Munro held it up to his aquiline nose, sniffing hesitantly.  With a game shrug, he took a large sip, his cheeks puckering above his kempt mustache.

“Ambrosia, is it no’?” Murtagh prompted after taking his own sip.

“Congratulations, Master Fitzgibbons.  After twenty some years, ye’ve finally succeeded in malting paint stripper.”

A tin mug was thrown across the table, glancing off the guest as he laughed at his own wit.

“See if I leave ye anythin’ in my will,” Murtagh groused before taking another long draught, pursing his lips in concentration as the spicy flavours rolled over his tongue.

“Wouldna wish tae undermine yer partner.”

The teasing gleam left Murtagh’s blue eyes.

“Silent partner, now.  Brian Fraser died last month.  A tree fell on ‘im.”

Hugh Munro said a silent prayer before quickly crossing himself. Without being asked, Murtagh refilled each glass and they drank a toast to their departed friend.

Several drams and some mutton stew later, the two men sat in the flickering flamelight, their booted feet extended towards the hearth.

“Where are ye off tae, then?” Murtagh inquired after Hugh finished his tale of a cattle drive over the Lairig Ghru in a snowstorm.

“Low country,” he said succinctly, using the Highland expression for anything south of the Grampian Mountains.  He wasn’t certain he should mention his exact destination, for fear of dredging up painful memories for his friend.

“Ye spend sae much time down there, ye’re like tae become a Sassenach yerself,” Murtagh complained, somewhat sincerely for once.

“Seems tae me there was a time ye werena quite sae opposed tae certain Sassenachs,” Munro tested the waters.

“Those days are done,” Murtagh pronounced with finality, rising unsteadily to his feet and escaping to his narrow bed with only a gruff goodnight.

Hugh Munro stayed up staring into the fire, contemplating how time was not the mender of all wounds.

[jomnki]

had the world's longest fucking dream.

can't remember how it began, but it was related to anime esqe horror zombie stuff. there was white eyes and oH yeah i got kidnapped by some maniac who was in love with me and somehow i convinced them that we were going to go kill every power havin individual in the apartment. Next door neighbour excluded because he was helping with my master plan. somehow we escape the apartment. also next door neighbour is the protagonist.

met up with a bunch of kids? one was very suspiciously quiet and the protag later exposed her for like.. being a zombie i guess. i keep switching povs from myself and the protag at this point. i have dream powers that let me read her mind and maybe she isn't evil. and yeah i feel asleep in my dream it was.. weird.

beforr that we moved back to china and there was this old lady who was supposed to be related to me but looking back that was legit just a random person. and then we had this big feast in a big foyer where i cried over some music. we were only supposed to have one bowl of food each so when you're finished you get up to let other people eat and i think i went to stim walk a while so when i came back to my table there was a bunch of tough lookin strangers eating? i just sat down and finished my meal.

anyways then chinese soldiers from a past dynasty came in and took everyone hostage and decided to show that they were serious by cutting into my neck and it was very painful. the raw terror. i got away at some point while other soldiers got in through the doors to start having a mass massacre i guess. like there were swords and arrows and black face paint and they were all dressed in ancient chinese soldier uniforms. i found the protag and somewhere along the line the dream decided my blood was holy and the leader of the pervious soldiers got a sip and went oOOOoOoohoohoo. i left the protag and the leader to do their, fuckin anime battle or something.

i ran home and found the lady whowassupposed to be myrelative and shes like wHAT hapPENED TO YOUR NECK and i went hey everyone's safe (lie) just let me get into the apartment so i can get everyone else somewhere safe (i thought if i sent em onna trip hunting theyd be away from the battle) but alas the door to our apartment was missing the envolope slot and whatever and i waa like huh that's unsettling and the lady was acting a bit loopy. then we got in and. i shit you not it was a hotel scene from anOther nightmare i had where there was gore everywhere with an ominous lil girl just standing there. the lady went who are you and i woke up at this point.

i cant describe to you how anxiety fueling this entire dream was, like constantly my life was in danger. like im sure somewhere there i had a dream in a dream to when some shark cosplay ing people broke in to our other not real house (that had appeared in multiple separate dreams before) and hunted us down to kill and i had to hurt them instead. it felt so real.

[strawberry-barista]

⚅ — @kingsmedley​ asked: — ⚅

⚅ — 📰 — ⚅

Muse Answers Questions Meme

— ★ ⚄ ★ —

⚀ What is their name?:

Grinning, he tugs lightly at his chin and mimics his Composer, “’My name is Yoshiya Kiriyu, but mother and father call me Joshua.’ I tend jus’ to call him Josh or J, though. ‘Joshua’ is for when he’s in trouble.”

⚁ Relationship with them?:

”It’s, uh... complicated. He’s my Composer, an’ he’s someone very important to me. He’s the heart of my city, and the heart of my heart. That doesn’t mean we always get along, though. In fact, I think he hates the fact that I insist on bein’ so close, to a degree. I know he cares about me, too, but seems like we’re at odds a lot these days.”

⚂ What do you view them as? (family,friend,other):

”If I’m bein’ honest? He feels kinda like my kid. I never really considered myself one for kids, but sometimes I just get real attached. I’ve been lookin’ after Joshua for a long time, and he gave up on his parents anyway. Despite everything I’ve done, I feel kinda like I’m his parent now. He’d probably be pissed to hear me say that, though.”

⚃ Do you feel attracted to them in any way?:

Hanekoma chuckled and shook his head, “I really can’t. I can’t even bring myself to be attracted to any’a his counterparts. Just feels kinda creepy. I know we’re not really family, and I know he’s not underaged or anything, but still. I knew him as a kid, and I can’t do it. It’s just not for me.”

⚄ What’s one thing you’d like to do with them?:

All the mirth left his features as he considered the question. It was the most difficult one he’d been asked so far. “One thing I’d like to do...? I’d like to... Relax. Have a day where we just put alla our work on the backburner... Wake up in the apartment an’ have a regular meal, just a regular breakfast. Talk about boring shit like the weather and plans we got for the day. Then we could go open the shop together an’ call up his gang. Have some time where we all just hung out together and really enjoyed livin’ in the moment. Maybe go out shoppin’ and come home and have a regular boring dinner. Just do little things before we went to bed. Just... real lazy, boring shit. I want to have a regular life with him one day, if just one day, and not have to worry about anything else.”

But he had no hope of that ever happening...

⚅ Tell us one memory you have with them.:

He was already too emotional from the last question. Now he has to sit down and sip slowly at his coffee.

”I remember... Back when he was still part of the RG... There was a day he came over to talk, an’ he did that a lot back then. But he had started out so upset and drawn in and pulled away from everything. And he’d, y’know, calmed down a lot since talkin’ to me, got to where he could at least be calm around me. But he came in that day and he seemed... So happy. He was so excited to talk to me, and he just seemed more at peace than I had ever seen him before. In that moment I was so glad I didn’t... I was just, I felt so damn good for havin’ made a breakthrough and really gettin’ through to him. I thought I had done a good thing for that kid.”

He swallowed hard, his words getting caught in his throat. He really couldn’t go on to say anymore. How just a little after that, the very next time he saw Joshua, it had been in the UG. How he realized all at once what he’d actually done.

All my fault...

⚅⚀ Anything you’d like to ask them or state to them? If so, say it now, please!:

He tried to pull up a new smile, but it was weak, “I... I would tell ‘im how proud I was of him. Tell ‘im how much I loved him and how I was gonna do everything in my power to do shit right this time. Apologize for bein’ such a fuck up and promise that I wouldn’t let anything hurt him again, as much was in my power to. I’d like to say those things, but... Right now? I don’t think he’d appreciate those words. He doesn’t need to hear ‘em... I’ll just hafta keep that promise without sayin’ anything.”

[liv-laugh-die]

||Admiring|| 💖Miya Osamu x Gn!reader

trope: strangers meeting in the park (ik its random bear with me😭)

warnings: its not proofread all the way through (im sorry im tired), so theres probably grammatical errors or typos but other than that none

genre: fluff pretty much just sappy stuff

pairing/s: osamu x gn!reader

wc: about 2.5k

a/n: oh my god idk where i came up with this but i think its cute so :p i hope you enjoy!!

You stared at your blank computer screen, hope of finishing your assignment before its due date at midnight slowly vanishing. 

     The clock on your desk read 11:27pm, the green lines wavering in your vision as your eyes slowly drooped, trying to drag you into the depths of slumber. You wanted to sleep, you really did, but you knew there was no way you could give up writing your essay, even now, knowing you weren’t going to submit it on time, because you would stress too much about it if you didn’t at least try to complete it before the due date. 

     Pushing yourself away from your desk, your chair squeaking against the floor ever so slightly in your dead silent dorm room, you tried to think of some excuse that your professor might believe. You doubted there was anything you could think of, but hey, your professor was better than what your roommates’ had mentioned theirs being, and you were grateful for that. Maybe you could tell him that you were exhausted from working extra hours at your job since you had had to cover your coworker’s shift and that’s why you couldn’t complete your essay on time? Or, maybe you could get away with a simple “I was lacking interest in the material, and couldn’t understand anything, and I didn’t ask for help because I knew that you are such a busy man trying to do so many things at once. Another hopeless near college drop-out wasn’t something I thought you needed on your hands.”

     ....Maybe not the latter.

    You sighed, running a hand through your tangled hair, practically feeling it screaming at you to wash it. You barely had time in the mornings to take showers anymore, and when you took them at night, you never had the strength to wash your hair, always knowing that putting a hat on overtop or throwing on your hoodie would make it seem fine on the outside, and that was good enough for you. As long as you looked at least decent and somewhat presentable.

    Your dorm room was fairly small, like every other one, but the lack of furniture made it seem larger than the rest. Nothing more than you and your roommate’s joint desk, the mini fridge in the corner, and the beds filled the space. You almost tripped over your backpack lying next to the bunk bed pushed up against the wall, falling to what would’ve been inches away from your roommate’s sleeping body.

    In an attempt not to disturb them, you tiptoed through the room, stepping over the occasional heap of clothes or homework, until you reached the bathroom. You fumbled over the door knob before almost tumbling into the small space. Glancing in the mirror, you didn’t fail to notice your messy hair, the dark circles tracing beneath your eyes, or the way you looked like you were seconds away from passing out. The sound of running water rang in your ears as you turned on the sink faucet, cupping your hands together and bringing your face down to meet them, rubbing the cold water all over you in an attempt to keep you awake for just a few moments longer.

     Your eyes returned back to the mirror as you sighed at your dripping wet face. There was no way possible you were going to finish your assignment on time. You knew it, your roommate knew it before they passed out, and you had noticed your professor’s wary glance this morning in class as a sign that he knew it too.

     An idea sprang into your head, part of you dreading the optimism that seemed to seep through your brain slowly. You didn’t feel like being energetic right now.

---an hour later---

You weren’t exactly sure how, when, or why you decided it would be a good idea to take a shower (you did end up washing your hair, thank god), get your things together in your bag, and head to the off-campus coffee shop (since the one on-campus had already closed), but you found yourself with a warm cup of coffee in hand as you exited the shop, the cold midnight air enveloping you in an unwelcome embrace.

     You shivered. The only thing your spontaneous brain had forgotten had to have been your jacket, the one thing your normal brain would’ve remembered if it weren’t already past midnight and if you weren’t majorly sleep-deprived.

     You most certainly weren’t done with your essay yet, nor was there any possible way for you to finish it on time since it was now approximately thirteen minutes past the due time, but you let yourself breathe for now.

     There weren’t many people out at this hour, and it made the usual busy city streets seemed like a ghost town. There were a few restaurants still open as you strolled along the sidewalk, their lights responsible for illuminating more than half the area in front of you. You passed by an onigiri shop your friend had recommended to you, but you just weren’t that hungry. Most nights, you’d kill for a midnight snack, but your single shot of espresso coffee was satisfying your needs for now.

     You decided to head to the park after seeing a rabbit hop its way across the vacant street and into the bushes in that direction. The fresh air was nice and cool against your dry and croaky lungs, and your ears needed a different sound than that of you miserably attempting to touch type quickly, your fingers rapping against the keyboard with vigor.

     A stream nearby flowed softly, the dripping of the water against the rocks complimenting the noise of the crickets chirping in sync just downstream. Your footsteps cut through the grass slowly, not bothering to follow the stone path. The park was a nice change of scenery. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been here by yourself in peace, it was always you and your rambunctious friends who ran through every now and then just to see the dogs running through the sprinklers, or the occasional poor cat whose owner dragged them out into the daylight for exercise. This was peaceful, though, and you appreciated that.

     A few more rabbits crossed your path, giving you that wide-eyed, side glance before darting off into the darkness, outside the reach of the lampposts emitting light. The sound of the stream soon faded out as you continued to walk through the park, sipping your coffee every so often. The warmth from your cup was soon dying out, and you figured you’d have to start walking back to your university sooner or later. Maybe you could crash at your friend’s house who lived just off campus, though you had forgotten your phone back at your dorm and had no alarm, no laptop to complete your work, and no contact with anyone else who might worry where you’d be. You had really no choice but to trek back to your dorm in the darkness, cutting your peaceful visit to the park short.

     You let yourself have a few more minutes of stress free relaxing as you sat down on a bench just before the ground let out into a downhill slope overlooking the rest of the city below. The trees around you swayed in the breeze, and for a moment, you thought it was the wind talking, and not an actual human being who had somehow made his way beside you without gathering your attention.

     “Didn’t think anyone else would be up at this hour,” the stranger mumbled. You glanced up, almost startled that, indeed, someone else was actually awake and strolling through the park.

     The boy couldn’t have been much older than you were, maybe the same age. He had his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, the wind tousled his dark hair ever so slightly, and the moonlight played along, illuminating his face just so you could actually see how gorgeous he was.

     You cleared your throat, averting your eyes back to the ground as you shifted over, creating more space on the bench in case he wanted to sit down beside you. “I decided to actually take care of myself for once and give myself some time to breathe before facing the wrath of my professor tomorrow when he finds out I didn’t turn in my essay on time.” You let out a low, breathy chuckle, not exactly sure of what would happen next.

     The guy sat down on the bench next to you, though he made sure to give you some personal space, which you were grateful for. He laughed along with you a bit, and you could tell just from his tone just how tired he really was.

     You gave him a side glance, raising an eyebrow. “So, what the stressful thing that brought you here in the middle of the night?”

     He smiled half-heartedly, eyes trained on the moon. “Work stuff. Jus’ been busy, I guess.” He shrugged. 

     You waited for him to continue on, but he stayed silent. You didn’t complain, though. Wasn’t your whole reason for coming out here in the dead of the night for some quiet? Plus, it wasn’t awkward either. You were comfortable sitting next to this stranger.

     “What do you do for work?” You waited a little longer than necessary to ask, but he didn’t seem to mind the long pause.

     “I own a restaurant a few blocks away. I love the job, it’s just tiring havin’ to deal with rude customers like my brother who won’t get the hint and get out sometimes. I got into an argument with him earlier today and he just wouldn’t shut it.” He rolled his eyes and took his hands out of his pockets, making eye contact with you as he went on about his day, and you couldn’t help but smile at his passion. “The guy thinks he can just walk in when I’m working with a new employee and just act like he runs the place! Quite stupid if you ask me. Such a jerk, he is. Thinkin’ about just banning him from the place, really.” 

     You snorted. “He really bugs you that much, huh?”

     The guy smirked at your laugh, admiring it, though you would never had guess that was what flashed across his face in a million years. He nodded. “Yeah, ‘course I love ‘im ‘cause he’s my twin and my best friend, but he really knows how to annoy the hell outta me.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just get a sign in the window that says “no shirt, no shoes, no service” and cross it out and write my brother’s name instead,” he reasoned, and the pondering look in his eyes made you wonder if he was actually considering the idea.

     You smiled. “You’re funny.”

     “You say that like ya weren’t expectin’ it.”

     A laugh made its way out your lips. “Well, when you’re approached by a stranger in the middle of the night you sort of expect the worst.”

     The guy glanced off in the distance, away from you, furrowing his eyebrows. “Sorry, didn’t think of that comin’ off that way.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m funny then, and not some creep, eh?”

     You nodded, the smile on your face not fading as he changed topics.

     “So, what’s your essay on? Any way I can help ya finish it?”

     You shook your head dismissively. “Oh, no. It was due thirty minutes ago.” You quickly explained the topic you were writing about in class before getting side tracked. “My professor had said he would allow it to be turned in the next morning, but I doubt he actually meant it.”

     He smiled a wide grin, making butterflies flutter in your stomach. “You go to the university nearby, right?” 

     You nodded in confirmation, raising an eyebrow. “If I’ve got any luck, there’s a chance you go there too?”

     He laughed a little, shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t, sorry. I’ve visited campus a few times because some of my friends go there, but I just usually focus on work.”

     His gaze was tilted upwards towards the sky, and you couldn’t help but admire how the exhaustion still shone in his eyes, but somehow that same passion gleamed there too just mentioning what he did for a living. You wished you were that passionate about something that would actually support you financially in the future and make you happy.

     When he glanced back at you, you were still taking his essence in, and he made a look of confusion. “What?”

    You shook your head, chuckling. “Nothing. I just admire that you can dedicate yourself to something and make it seem so easy.” He looked at you, interested to hear what you had to say, even though you were sure you couldn’t be the first person to tell him this. “I haven’t even known you for more than ten minutes and I can already tell you’re passionate about what you do and if you’re stressed about it, it must mean you’re dedicated to seeing your work through, and that’s more than enough to admire and appreciate, especially when that can be so difficult sometimes.” You finished your short tangent, looking back up at him to see him staring intently at you, seemingly in awe of what you’d just said. You felt a blush creep onto your face as you quickly blurted out, “Sorry- I didn’t mean to be so straightforward and weird like that- I sound like some crazy secret admirer or something...”

     The crickets chirped in the silence between the two of you, and it felt like it would never end.

     “Y’know, I wouldn’t mind havin’ a secret admirer. I mean, wouldn’t be so secret, but...” You saw the smile creep up onto his face. “It’s nice being appreciated. Nobody really tells me that kind o’ stuff, so... thanks, I guess.” 

     The heat on your cheeks didn’t go away by any means, but you grew more comfortable with it as you mumbled, “Maybe I wouldn’t mind admiring you.”

     Now, it was the boy’s turn to blush, and you smiled at how his cheeks grew redder with every passing second, and how his subtle grin spoke a thousand words he didn’t need to say.

     “Miya Osamu.” The boy’s hand came into your view as he extended it for you to shake. “I own Onigiri Miya across from the grocery outlet.”

     You smirked, grasping his hand in yours as you said, “L/N Y/N. I own an official license for being a horrible driver and an ID that proves I’m a sleep-deprived college student and that’s about it.”

     He laughed, shaking your hand and standing up, letting go too soon for your liking.

     Because for some weird reason, his hand felt right in yours.

     Osamu said a quick goodbye, mentioning something about how he should get going and how you should get some sleep before he disappeared down the stone path back into the darkness.

     You stood up not too long after he’d left, your coffee now entirely cold as you plopped the half full cup into the trash can on your walk back to your dorm, not needing the pathetic warmth anymore. Your heart was beating fast and the feeling of Osamu’s hand resting in yours lingered on your palm, and that kept you warm enough.

     Maybe you’d be visiting that onigiri place your friend recommended to you a little sooner than you’d originally planned, and maybe more often than you would’ve expected.

[tobi-momo]

Disconnected Fate

a/n: hehe thank you for @velvxtparadise​ for requesting this im so happy you did bc it was an amazing idea (their works are also so amazing you should check ‘em out) but ya THANK YOU ily!!

Disconnected Fate: Soulmate AU/Quirkless AU - Sero x Reader

Synopsis: Soulmates were something to be treasured. The second half of your soul, finally connecting, becoming one. But, you couldn’t really rely on that if your string is cut. But will meeting someone with your same fate change that?

Word Count: 3110

Warnings: Cursing, clubbing, drinking, mentions of vomiting, kissing, old ass pervs, groping (if there are more pls let me know!!) {does include some todomomo and kamijirou}

“Mina, I don’t think this fits very well,” you laugh at your figure in the mirror, turning your body and running your hands down the fabric to slim it down. Mina opens to you, practically jumping at you before placing her hands at your shoulder to rotate your body; jaw dropping at the sight.

“Y/n, shut the hell up. You look so fucking sexy it’s not even funny,” she chuckles, giving your ass a playful smack before tugging at the thin strap that held your dress up. The strings connected to a loose bateau neckline, showing a little cleavage, and looking down, you see the way your snug dress brings out your curves and hips. Wow- you really did look amazing, didn’t you? “Okay, that should do it. Are we ready? The guys are probably waiting for us.”

Your head whips to your friend, who definitely did not tell you about boys being with you. “What? Boys- boys? Mina.”

She looks back at you with a shocked look, making it seem like you knew, and gave a blank, “what?”

“Why didn’t you tell me there would be boys? I only know like, three other people from your friend group, and I’m not even sure they like me.” You complain, leaving the closet for the bathroom to touch up on your makeup before hearing your other bestie chime in.

“Don’t worry, y/n! I like having you around very much, and I’m sure the others will, too!” Momo says, finishing her mascara. 

“Yeah, and you’re fun to duet and play with,” Kyouka acknowledges while painting her nails.

“See?” Mina remarks. “They love you. Eiji has already told the others, and none of them have anything bad to say!”

“Yet.”

“Kyo!” 

“Kidding~” she corrects.

“Y/n, you’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it, they’ll love you. Just...I don’t know, be yourself!”

“Thanks, Mina, that actually helps a lot,” you smile sarcastically before turning your smile flat. “I’ll be sure to do that once I get over the fact that I’ve never hung out with your friends before.” 

“Oh my God, y/n. Stop stressing. You’ll be fine.” Mina assures. “And maybe you’ll find a little special someone~” she vocalizes and points to the ring finger of your right hand. 

Oh. Right. You thought, looking down at your hand. The red string tied to your finger that connected you to the person the universe wants you to spend the rest of your life with. The string that leads you to the person you’ve always wanted, needed. Your soulmate. You had always wanted that person to come in your life, to sweep you off your feet and be with you for the rest of your days, but it was hard to believe in all that when your string was cut. Your string connected you to your soulmate, so why was yours cut? Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be for you.

“Y/n? Y/n.” You blink up to Mina’s fingers snapping at you.

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” you smile, “I just spaced out.”

“Classic y/n.”

“Kyo.” Mina glares at Kyouka.

“What? I’m just sayin’.”

“Okay, are we all done here?” You ask while looking around at Momo, Kyouka and Mina; checking the belongings around them and seeing their small handbags.

“Yup!” 

“Mhm.”

“Finally! Okay, let’s go bitches.” Mina exclaims as Kyouka shakes her head then drags herself up, leaning her head back, an annoyed expression painted on her face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bro, come on! Just have one- ONE- drink. Please?” Kaminari pouts, handing Sero a small glass of whiskey, the ice clinking within the glass.

“I don’t know man. You guys are probably gonna get hammered tonight, and Katsuki refuses to be the DD again,” Sero shrugs back, leaning on the counter of the bar.

“You’re damn right I ain’t the DD tonight. I haven’t had a good drink in a minute, and you guys are annoying as it is, so maybe a couple might make it easier to put up with you.” Bakugou groans, downing his drink, walking up to the bartender to order another one.

“Hey, where are the girls? Are they still coming?” Kirishima asks curiously.

“Uh,” Kaminari pulls his phone out, checking his messages, “they are on their way.”

“Why do they take so goddamn long? It’s annoying.” Bakugou calls out, waiting for his drink impatiently.

“Because they are ladies, Katsuki. They need time to get ready and stuff. You know this,” Kirishima whines, as if he had told him this multiple times.

“I know it’s stupid,” he emphasizes. He gets his drink and continues to sit at the bar, irritated.

Kirishima makes his way over to Sero, who sips his water through the black straw poking out of the glass. He looks bored, but not as if he didn’t want to be there. He always liked hanging out with his friends; the more the merrier. So taking this invitation to hang out with his guy and girl friends was a must. He needed a break from all of the stress school put on him. College was a lot harder than he thought it was going to be. This was a perfect way to distract himself even for a little while and drinking water. His friends would be entertaining enough anyways. 

“Hey, Hanta, you excited for the girls to get here?” Sero’s head whips up, breaking his thoughts. Sitting up straight, he leans back with an elbow on the back of the couch. Kirishima smiles giggly, taking a seat next to him.

“Oh, ya,” he says, as if it was obvious, “excited to see how they act when they black out,” he jokes. The girls were always a handful when drunk, thankfully some had their boyfriends to take care of them, but the boyfriends were always a little drunk, too.

“Ha ha, yeah, always super fun,” Kirishima replies sarcastically, knowing exactly what Sero is thinking. “What about you, Shoubro?”

Todoroki was sitting at the end of the table awkwardly, waiting for more company. He looked lonely, but patient. He looked up at his nickname Kirishima gave him tiredly. “Hmm?”

“Excited for the girls to get here?” 

“I guess. They will make the night more entertaining.” See, he knows, too. The girls were known for making the night more interesting. Whether it was karaoke, body shots, dancing, or even fighting with douchebags that tried to dance with them. The night always ended on a good note either way, so whoever was staying sober sure had a sight to see.

“Oh, here come the girls,” Kaminari chimes in, putting his phone in his back pocket before turning around for the door. Three girls walk in: Mina, Kyouka, and Momo. Wait- where were you? Didn’t Mina say something about bringing a friend?

“Hey, boys,” Mina greets, “how are we this fine evening?” She says smoothly, strutting her way to the bar. “Four vodkas, please.”

“You havin’ all of those? Momo and Kyo don’t usually have vodka.” Kaminari laughs, a jokingly confused question.

“Oh, y/n is gonna be here in a sec, and she likes vodka. A lot. So half of these are for her.” Mina smiles as she carefully grabs the shots and cautiously carries them to the table where Momo, Todoroki, Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Kyouka reside. She sets them down, keeping a close eye not to spill, and starts walking over to your figure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You head into the club, surprised the music isn’t louder, while avoiding the other people around the area. You knew at places like this it got a little crowded and hectic, so you just wanted to find Mina before anything else. With your hands behind your back holding your tiny purse, you look around and see Mina walking over to you, a bright smile plastered on her face as giggles and grabs your hand, dragging you to the table where everyone (besides irritated Bakugou) resides. 

“Katsuki get your ass over here right now!” Mina shouts from across the club, catching Bakugou’s attention. She gives him a stern look, then smiles softly when he grumbles and pushes himself off his chair, slowly walking over there, drink in hand. He plops down next to Kirishima lazily before staring at the ground. “Good. Anyway,” she inhales, clearly excited. You stand there awkwardly, wondering why it has suddenly got so hot. Something in the air was different. You didn’t know what it was, but it was making you nervous. “Y/n, the boys,” she points at each boy, introducing them, “Todoroki, Sero, Kaminari, Kirishima, and Bakugou.” You nod in acknowledgement, getting to know their faces to hopefully not forget later. One face caught your breath, though. Literally. Your breath hitched as you looked at him. Sero, you were pretty sure his name was. He was- beautiful. His raven black hair, his smile, his eyes, his everything- was gorgeous. 

What the hell was this?

You stand there, frozen, staring at his handsome face and body, practically drooling. You were interrupted by Mina yapping at them to shake your hand. Each one of them sat up straight and nodded to you, said how nice it was to meet you. Then you shook hands with Sero.

No. No way.

Right as you switch your hands for him, raising your left hand, he raises his. The red on his finger caught your eye, making you stop in your tracks. Again. He also comes to a halt, both your eyes wide in shock and surprise as you gaze at each other’s string.

This wasn’t real. You were the only one you knew in your entire life who had this. You had looked it up several times for a sliver of hope, but nothing showed. In fact, everything you had searched for came up the opposite. Because of the stories and the legends and the research, you were convinced it wasn’t true. You were convinced that it wasn’t going to happen to you. Convinced that you were going to live your life alone. Was this man really the one for you? Was this man really the one to share your soul with? You couldn't believe it. You just couldn’t.

“Ahem,” Mina purposely coughs, trying to dissipate the awkwardness everyone else has to endure as you and Sero share the weirdest and yet most thrilling moment you’ve had in your life. Your heart was beating so fast, you were nervous, but excited. You were surprised, but happy and sad, a little disappointed and mad, though you felt awakened at these new feelings. They felt stronger than anything you’ve ever felt before, and you could tell he could feel them, too. Mina coughs again, snatching your attention. She smiles and widens her eyes while pointing her head at the other men, who are tiredly awaiting your hand. Once you suddenly realize you’ve been focusing on Sero for the past 45 seconds, you breathe out an ‘oh’ and move on to Kirishima. 

You never stopped thinking about him, though. Throughout the entire night, after every shot you took, every song on the dance floor, Sero was still in your mind. And because of this, you took more shots. And you danced some more. You were taking a body shot off of Mina’s stomach when you notice eyes boring into yours. Swallowing the stinging alcohol you turn over to him, not finishing with the lime, almost stumbling. You want to tell him to stop looking at you, to mind his own business, but you can’t separate your words, slurring an incoherent sentence. 

“Oh? Baby girl needs some help? I can help you,” the strange man, teases, laughing as he grabs your waist, grazing the side of your torso up and down, trying to drag you to the back of the club. “Let me help you, honey.” He starts guiding you to the back, using his fingers to touch the soft skin on your shoulders, your forearms, making their way down to your hips, and finally up to-

“Hey, y/n, you okay?” The man gets interrupted by your hero, his voice giving you butterflies. “Sorry, man. She’s drunk. You really shouldn’t be messin’ with girls like this,” he shrugs before grabbing you by your waist and putting your arm around his shoulder, “or any girls, for that matter.” You lean on his shoulder, barely keeping up with the situation. You feel so light on your feet, but so heavy at the same time. He helps you to the tables you originally sat at before going a little more overboard than you would’ve liked. You moan, a little overwhelmed by the noise, but once he sets you in a comfortable spot on the bench, you lean your head back, satisfied with the cold air on your face. He quickly hands you his glass of water, placing the straw in your mouth and nodding his head, whispering to take a drink. You comply, sipping his water before he takes it out and puts the cup on the tabletop for a brief moment.

Dazed, you look around the room. Your vision is blurry, but you can clearly see Momo and Todoroki making out on the other side of the booth. At least she’s having fun. Meanwhile you get groped by an old man in a corner and probably won’t remember it the next day. Sero’s gone, you think. He was, but only a couple feet away from you. You turn your head from Momo on top of Todoroki’s lap, to Jirou leading Kaminari out of the building, then to Mina taking more shots with Kirishima, and Bakugou acting annoyed but is actually having fun. They all looked like they were having a great time. You look to your left once more and smile to yourself once you see him walking back over. He sits next to you and grabs the cup again, pushing it towards you to take a sip. And you do. 

The next half hour was you and him in the bathroom while you throw your guts up, the nasty alcohol leaving your stomach while he holds your hair up and rubs your back. You cough everything back up, regretting taking a single drink in the first place. You feel his hands smooth over your upper back, and his grip on your hair, tightening in a circle at the back of your head. You lift your head up, turning away in embarrassment.

He smiles in return, taking his hand off your back to grab something to wipe your mouth with. “Don’t worry, it’s not the first time I’ve done this. Come here,” he says softly, almost like a whisper. You turn your head towards him, still not looking at his face, but at his arm. His very attractive arms. He raises his left hand to wipe a cloth at your mouth, you catching the bright red string in sight. He notices this, and slows his motions. “You see it, right? My string.”

You only nod in response, looking away with a blush.

“I can see it, too. Yours, I mean.” You weren’t that surprised, considering what happened earlier that night when you first met him. The feeling was the same as it was before, but more intense. It was like sparks every time he touched you, like fireworks, like electricity. You could tell he felt it as well when he pulled back a little, hesitant to touch you. You knew he felt it when he pulled you away from that strange guy. Guess you were too drunk to notice.

Once he finishes up, he tells you he’s done then helps you up to get ready to leave. You were both tired of this place. Walking back out to the main room, the only people to be seen from Mina’s friend group was herself, Bakugou, and Kirishima. You could only guess where everyone else went. You two continue making your way down, asking if everyone else will be alright, or if they needed a ride. Mina responded that they’ll take a cab home, and that they’ll be okay. Thankfully Bakugou looked sober enough to understand what was going on.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Whatever. Fuckin’ leave already.”

Sero returns with a smile, silently thanking him as he leads you to the exit. The cool air felt wonderful against your face, the breeze making you feel a lot better. You groan as your head starts to pound. Sero leads you to his car, opening the door for you and helping you in, shutting the door. 

“Hey, what’s your address?”

You look up tiredly, ready to fall asleep right then and there. “Oh, uh, building 474 on 32nd.”

He only hums in response, checking his mirrors and backing out, heading for your apartment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, uh, thank you, Sero. I really appreciate it. I know this is not how you wanted to spend your night, even if you were sober.” You apologize, genuinely disappointed in yourself for letting yourself drink that hard.

“Don’t worry about it. It was fun watching you guys for most of the night, though,” he laughs.

“Oh I bet. Me and Mina got a little crazy.”

“A little?”

“Shush, I know,” you chuckle, trying not to embarrass yourself further. “Um, do you want my number? Or something? It’s just, your Mina’s friend,” We both have red cut strings, “and I want to make up for being such a slob at the party,” I want to figure out why I can see your string. He gladly agrees, putting his number in your phone. “Also,” you interrupt his movements, causing him to look up, “I remember that weird guy from earlier, where did he go? I didn’t see him for the rest of the night.”

He smiles cunningly, a smile that cocks the sides of your mouth up subconsciously. “He was getting on my nerves, so I kicked him out of the club.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “How?”

“I have my ways,” he says slyly, implying exactly what you’re thinking. You smile in understanding, thanking him for the help. 

You unlock your door and wave goodbye to him, sad that he had to leave, but grateful that he didn’t have to put up with you anymore. You lift your left hand in curiosity. Looking at it, you can see every thread on the piece of yarn. Every knot. Although you couldn’t take it off, it looked as if you could. It was weird, knowing the fact that everyone else’s string connected them to their soulmates, while your short piece of combined thread just drooped towards the ground. You never expected to find another person like you. Another person with a lost fate. Huh.

Part 2?? Let me know!!

[mulletcal]

light outside - a calum hood blurb.

a/n: okay so @softbabiestan​ and i were talking about how poor cal seemed a lil down and i said maybe he posted that as a reminder to us and himself and this happened.  title is from the song light outside by wakey!wakey! that i listened to while writing. also i totally understand if no one wants to read this bc this is talking about the current situation going on in the world. but i also wanted to write something that was kind of a reminder to myself and u guys that this time isn’t for u to start the next big project, but for you to take care of yourself and those around you.  love u stay safe xoxo

word count: 1,022 words

warnings: talk of mental health, talk of covid-19

-------

At any given time, mental health is hard to keep healthy - with the turbulence of everyday, it feels like a struggle to tackle your to-do list, or see the ones you love.  This became especially difficult given the stay at home order that came into place in Los Angeles, due to the CoVid-19 pandemic.

You were grateful to be in a position you could work from home, knowing others were in a completely different situation that weren’t so lucky - and your heart hurt for those people, wishing there could be more to do other than staying home, and donating to local charities dedicated to feeding those less fortunate.

You knew you were also incredibly lucky to have someone to stay at home with.  Calum was an amazing companion, your days mostly filled with laughter, and what recipe you would attempt to butcher today.  The list of unsuccessful/gross things included: whipped coffee, making a vegetarian fried chicken sandwich from scratch, and making your own cashew milk - but there was always tomorrow.

In general, you both had been doing a good job at keeping your mental health up.  You took Duke on a walk up the street and back, trying to be mindful of each other’s space, and especially attempting to be outside as much as you could in Calum’s backyard.

Today though, you knew something was off.  Calum had been up before you woke up, and locked himself in his music room all day.  Even while you minded your space, you never hesitated to check on one another when either of you would put on the kettle for tea, but he hadn’t even been in the mood for that.

Figuring he would come to you if you needed, you made dinner for the two of you, setting his plate in the microwave with a short text to inform him.  He responded with a simple ‘Thanks xx’ .  You put on a random YouTube video on in the background, one you had seen hundreds of times before as you ate.  Duke would occasionally whine, and you thought it was because he wanted your food - but when you finished he was still whining, only content when you picked him up, cuddling him to your chest.  He must have needed some extra affection today, which was fine.

You could hear the faint, beautiful notes coming from the piano in his music room, smiling to yourself.  It could have been simply that he had an idea and needed to work on it until completion, as you knew he and the boys could never rest until an idea was from their brain onto a page (or a voice note).

The rest of your evening was spent curled in bed, casually sipping on a cup of tea as you scrolled through your phone.  You got a notification that Calum had added to his story, and your eyes lit up, expecting him to be posting a video of the music he had been playing all day.

Your expression faltered though when you saw him in the backyard, his eyes looking less than bright as he addressed his fans.  Calum was telling them to be easy on themselves, and you couldn’t help but to wonder if he was saying the words as an uplifting thing for the fans, or because he needed to hear them - or both.

It wasn’t long after that, that you heard the bedroom door creep open and his tall figure appeared.  

“Hi baby,” you said softly, your eyes turning to look at his face fully.

“Hi,” he mumbled.  Without another word, he climbed onto the bed.  Thinking he was going to come lay beside you, you went to shift over more so he had more room, but his large hands held you in place.  Calum ducked his head under your arms that had been holding your phone, burying his face in your neck.

“What’s goin’ on bubba, wanna talk about it?” Your fingers carded through his hair, listening to his breathing that was becoming more even by the minute.

“M’just havin’ a hard time lately - I can’t complain though, everyone is.” His words were muffled against your (his) hoodie, and you frowned slightly.

“Cal, just because other people are dealing with other things, hard things, doesn’t make your struggle any different- or your emotions less meaningful, you know?”

“I know.  It’s just hard when I feel like I should be being productive, but the most I’ve done in the last three days is eat and shower.” Looking up at you finally, you could see the sadness lingering in his beautiful eyes, and it made your heart hurt.

“You know you don’t owe it to anyone to be productive right now, right? All that matters right now is that we stay home, and take this time to relax or ease our minds.  This kind of thing didn’t happen so that we all stop what we’re doing outside to get tasks done around the house.” Your lips pressed against his forehead, fingers still placed in his blonde locks. 

“You’ve just been doing all the cleaning, and I hang out outside with Duke-”

“Hanging out outside with him is your job.  He doesn’t get to come visit you on tour as much as I do, so I think he’s happy to have you home for a little bit with us.  Your boy missed your cuddles today.”

As if on queue, the small dog was scratching at the post of the bed.  Calum had knocked over his doggy stairs in his haste to be in your arms, so Duke had no way to crawl into bed.

Pouting, Calum pulled back from you to pick him up and pressed a bunch of kisses to the top of his head, “I’m sorry my love, your Pops has been in a mood.  Tell me about your day.” To which Duke responds with covering Calum’s cheeks in his own kisses.

“We’re gonna be alright, yeah?” You cocked your head to the side as you looked at your boys.

Calum smiled for probably the first time that day, nodding his head, “Yeah, we’re gonna be alright.”

tag list:  @cals-wildflower​ @talkfastromance4​ @softbabiestan​ @roseycal​ @calum-uncrowned​ @boyfriend-cal​ @wildflowerirwin​ @irwindoll​ @gosh-im-short​ @atlcalm​ @thesubtweeter​ @heavenisapeach​ @ridingcthood​ @loveroflrh​ @wokeupinjapanisabop​ @softlylukes​

[lamiasluck]

Stranger

Jump forward in this au’s plot a bit and Eric is safe from his father! Dark and Host were kinda just like “oh, ours.” and now Eric gotta be safe jdhkfsk

There’s a lil saloon the rest of the egos work and chill out in. Eric’s just chilling but some drunk stranger decides to flirt and get way too friendly with him. (also I added eboy and he’s markus. Why??? I dunno)

Warnings: guns, uncomfortable flirting, threats

@alvie-ashgrove @emptynarration @juju-on-that-yeet @m4delin @theshysepticeye @verse2wo @ferociousfangirlofmanyfandoms

-

Bim was drying off the glasses, talking to Eric. “Yeah, just a town over they got some good candy at the shop,” he explained, snickering as Eric got visibly excited at the claim. “I’ll get some for ya next time I visit.” 

Eric was sitting across from Bim at the bar, sipping on some water. He wasn’t in the mood to drink today. “Th-Thank you!” His voice was soft, barely audible in the lively saloon. All the gang was here tonight, with the occasional passing customer visiting. 

“Anytime, kid.” Their peace was interrupted, unfortunately. Without warning, a stranger walked up and sat beside Eric, even though there were plenty of empty seats at the counter. Eric tensed up slightly, but gave the stranger no more than a passing glance. 

Bim raised an eyebrow. “What will you be havin’?” 

The man offered the bartender a friendly smile, but Bim noticed him look at Eric often. “I’ll have two of your finest whiskey.” 

Bim had a bad feeling about this, but complied and poured the drinks. He slided them both to the man, only for one of the glasses to be passed to Eric. The man had a smirk on his face as he stared at Eric’s confused expression. Bim frowned slightly, but watched the scene carefully for now.

“What’s a fine man like you doing here~?” The man tried to purr out.

Eric could smell the alcohol on his breath. He gave Bim a worried look, before giving his attention to the man. “I-I’m just, y’know, passin’ by. Chatting.” 

“Giving your ol’ friend here company,” Bim chimed in, patting Eric’s shoulder and smiling reassuringly.

Eric giggled along with Bim, only to squeak as the man rested his hand on his thigh. He stuttered incoherently and blushed. 

“Aw, ain’t you a cute one~?” The man mused. He was squeezing Eric’s thigh slightly. 

Bim glared. “Keep your hands on the drink, stranger,” he said coldly. He could clearly see how much Eric wanted to leave. The poor nervous guy... 

“Don’t be jealous, sweetheart~” the man chuckled. The sound made Bim want to punch his face in. “I’ll get to ya. Lots of fine men here~” 

“None of us are on the menu.” Markus suddenly came in behind Eric, resting his hands on his friend’s shoulders. “It’d be best for you to run along now. You don’t know what kind of trouble you’ll stir up.” Him and Bim exchanged a smirk. This man was screwed, but Eric didn’t seem to catch on. Eric was still as tense as ever. 

“Why’s that, sweetheart~? I ain’t harmin’ anyone.” The man still didn’t falter. If anything, he looked excited that there were three cute guys near him. 

“Please, I-I’m not, um, not interested. I’m dating someone already...” Eric murmured. He debated whether or not he should pry off the man’s hand. It looked like he wouldn’t need to.

“Are you now?” The man’s mood seemed to drop, but he quickly recovered. “I’m sure I’m much better than ‘im.” 

Eric didn’t respond. All he could do is stare behind the man. As shocked as he was, there was a certain relief to who he saw. 

A gun was pressed to the back of the man’s head. “Wanna take a bet?” Dark cocked his gun, grinning as the man flinched at the sound. “I’m not one for gamblin’, but since the odds are in my favour...” He spun the stool over until the man was facing him, pressing his gun against his forehead now. 

“Are you crazy?!” The man sputtered. 

“I’m only crazy for my man, stranger~” Dark chuckled. 

Markus sighed in relief. Well, all three of them did. He snapped his fingers as Host approached, guiding his hand to Eric’s shoulder before walking off.

Host sat down behind Eric and pulled him to his lap. “Come here,” he ordered in a low voice. 

Eric shivered at the commanding tone, but he was far from scared. 

Dark clicked his tongue, slowly lowering his gun and grabbing the man’s drink. “Tell ya what,” he downed the whiskey in one shot, wiping his mouth and sighing happily, “since ya got me a drink, I’ll let ya go. Best be leavin’ now, unless ya want a bullet in your skull.” His expression became darker. All it took was a stomp of his foot to make the man go running. 

“Good riddance!” Bim waved him off, shaking his head and snickering. 

Dark holstered his gun and walked towards Eric. He brushed off Eric’s thigh, before putting his own hand there. “I can’t say that I blame him, darlin’. You’re lookin’ beautiful tonight~” he hovered over Eric’s lips and nipped them, “but you’re mine, got that?” 

Eric whined quietly, nodding. Dark smiled and leaned in closer, but someone interrupted their kiss. Host pulled Eric back to his chest. “He’s mine too,” he stated, smirking. He leaned down and began to kiss at Eric’s neck. 

Dark rolled his eyes, huffing to make sure Host could hear his playful annoyance. “I guess so, but that’s it! Anyone else that tries to make a move on our darlin’ is getting shot.” They both seemed to agree with that. 

“Th-Thank you,” Eric muttered, shivering at Host’s kisses. “I was, um, I-I was really scared...” 

Dark gave him a gentle smile, leaning in for a proper kiss. He parted and whispered against Eric’s lips, “Any time, darlin’~”

[nereol]

I’ll Be Your Animal (1/8)

Okay, here it is: my Val / Emmerick fan fiction!

This is the first time I write in English. English is my second language so sorry for bad typo, gonk grammar and weird punctuation.

You can read this on AO3 or on WorldAnvil (with pics, quotes, music...).

„So... your bouncer...“ Val's voice is calm and thoughtful. Claire looks at her with raised eyebrows. „Em?“ „Yeah... he's...“ Val thinks about what to say. „He hates all people or just me in particular?“ Claire chuckles. „Why do you think he hates you?“ V shrugs. Claire stops laughing, frowns and looks sharply at Val. „You like him?“

It's been a while since V was at the Afterlife the last time, the only time. That was before the... before everything went wrong. She walks down the stairs, puts her aviators in her pocket. Entering the first door her eyes are on the bouncer. Emmerick. She doesn't know his name, cause he told her. No, she just scanned him last time, first time she was here. And he's called her and Jackie 'Clowns'...

Hands sliding down from the zipper of her jacket, which she just opened. She hooks her thumbs in her hot pants pockets and stops infront of him. He stands there, like the typical bouncer. Upright, arms in front of his torso, legs slightly apart. „Hey, how's things?“ Val smirks, head slightly tilted.

Emmerick has scanned her the moment she came through the door. V, only survivor of Dex's gig. But not quite well, not in one piece, if what he had heard is the truth. Wasn't at the Afterlife since then, but works for other fixers - quite successfully. She's on his 'positive' list, so he nods, holds a straight face and with one step aside he says „You go in.“

Val stills and slightly shakes her head. „Well... good talk, thanks for nothin'“ She turns her head to look at him. Still a straight face Emmerick says „I've got work to do.“ „Yeah, me too.“ Val shrugs, then looks around. Now he turns his head to look at her. First time really look at her and in her eyes. Green. Bit too green, but still 'ganic looking. But he knows they're not. Not on a merc like her.

„But it's not like there's a queue, so I thought...“ she eyes him, „you might be bored.“ His eyebrows furrows, just slightly, almost not notable for Val. She just shakes her head, waves dismissively with one hand. „Whatever, suit yourself!“ And without waiting for an answer she passes the next door, enters the Afterlife. He blinks. 'What was that just about? ' Then back to normal, back to zero facial expressions.

---

Val makes her way straight to the bar. „Hey, V!“ Claire greets her cheerfully. She is one of the persons who called Val without her giving them her number. But that's what it's like as a merc. Last week they drove the first of four street races. And won. Val orders a beer and they're talking about the race.

„You here for work or just 'cause of me?“ Claire smirks at her. Val takes a sip and grins back. „'cause of biz, but I've got some time.“ Claire serves a few other customers, comes back to Val. „So... your bouncer...“ Val's voice is calm and thoughtful. Claire looks at her with raised eyebrows. „Em?“ „Yeah... he's...“ Val thinks about what to say. „He hates all people or just me in particular?“ Claire chuckles. „Why do you think he hates you?“ V shrugs. Claire stops laughing, frowns and looks sharply at Val. „You like him?“

„What?“ Val shakes her head defensively. „No... I mean, yes. Sure he's hot, but...“ „uh-huh...“ Claire smirks, cleaning a glass. Val sighs. „That's not the point. I just tried bein' friendly, greeted - and he was just like 'you go in'“ Val lowers her voice and sits up straight to imitate Emmerick. Claire chuckles and shrugs. „That's not about you, he doesn't like small talk.“ Val sighs again and takes a sip of her beer. She leans against the bar and crosses her legs.

„Sooo“ Claire just came back after serving some other people and smirks at Val, who raises her eyebrows. „But you think he's hot?“ Val shrugs, takes a sip. „Yeah, but that doesn't make 'im special.“ She takes a look around. „I consider a lot of people attractive and havin' no trouble saying it.“ She turn back on her stool. „Could point out like ten people, tell ya they’re hot.“ She points at Claire with her beer bottle. „You're one of 'em.“ „Oh stop it!“ Claire laughs and blushes just a little. Val empties her bottle, puts it back on the bar. „Enough chatter. I've some work to do.“ She nods at Claire with a smile. „I'll call you.“ „mh-hm.

---

When Val leaves the Afterlife later this night she pays no attention to the bouncer. And that's the same all the next times she's at the Afterlife. She greets him with a nod, sometimes even a smile when she enters. But a simple „Hey“ from time to time is all Emmerick gets from her.

He doesn't scan her anymore. She comes regularly, like most of the mercs. And she's quite noticeable, enough to remember her. Her purple hair is in thick cornrows all the time. When she enters the first door and comes down the last few steps, she take off her aviators. And she always opens her jacket in between the two doors, so he can catch a glimpse on her ink and what she's wearing under her thick bomber jackets - mostly crop tops

When she leaves, he finds himself looking down at her bottom. She's wearing hot pants most of the time, often under-butt. And if she wears long pants, then extra slim fit ones. And she sways her hips in a way it's impossible to look away

But like her, Emmerick say's nothing at all. Not when she arrives and not when she leaves.

[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Adore You [H.S]

Summary: Harry meets Lily in the summer of 1965, after graduating Uni he flies to the states to work as a photographer. It's at one of his boss's house parties that they meet and sparks fly.

But when Harry is asked to go to Viatnam and photograph the horrors happening there, will the distance tear them apart? And what about the darkness surrounding him when he returns? Will she be able to heal him.

And she...she's not the same either.

Taking in the beauty of the sixties, this is a love story that spans years and culminates in one final admission. Harry will always adore her.

Chapter One:

"And we drink our coffee and pretend not to look at each other." Charles Baudelaire

The party was in full swing when Lily arrived, nervously walking up the path to her old friend's home. People lingered outside as music thumped from inside. It reminded her very much of the parties they attended at Berkely only three years ago. It was amazing how time could fly and people could change.

"Lily!" The first person she sees is dear old Louis Tomlinson. The two of them had dated in college, albeit briefly, but that hadn't gotten in the way of their friendship. Lily rushed into his open arms, laughing as her friend embraced her warmly. "Let me get a good look at ya love," she smiled, not realizing how much she had actually missed his accent. He had come from overseas. England to be exact, a town called Doncaster. She loved his heavy accent.

He took in her outfit. Lily wore a creamed colored skirt and white blouse tucked into it. She wore a pair of black ballet flats and had a few gold bracelets on her wrists, not one for jewelry, she decided to skip the rings and a necklace, fearing if she got to drunk she may actually lose them.

"You look lovely as eva," he praised, causing her to blush slightly.

"I could say the same about you," she complimented back, almost shouting in his ear. Louis wore a white button down shirt and grey slacks. He would look good in a paper bag. Lily thought jealously. He was always so effortlessly cool looking. "Have you seen Marie around? She invited me and I never got the chance to thank her." Louis shrugged, bringing his beer to his lips.

"Not since the party started actually. She's been a proper host." The music changes, The Beatles 'Love Me Do' begins to play. "Fancy a dance love?" Louis shouted over the music. Lily nodded, taking her friend's hand as he set down his beer.

They made their way through the crowded living room, Louis pulling her in front of him as they begin to dance. Louis was never good at it, jerking and playfully teasing Lily with his moves. She couldn't help but laugh out loud at just how silly she was.

"I never realized how much I missed you." She said as he pulled her close after spinning her out. She can feel him grin against the top of her head.

"Missed you too, Love." The sound of a motorcycle pulling up outside stops their conversation. Heads turn towards the door as the music dies down and people look to see who's got the bike.

With the front doors of Marie's house open, Lily can just see a glint of black metal under the street lights outside her home. A shadowy figure getting off the bike and walking up the path towards the house. People begin to disperse, the momentary curiosity lapsing as they go back to their conversations and alcohol. But Lily looks on, curious.

"I thought she said she didn't invite him." She heard Louis say behind her. His voice slightly strained.

"I'm sorry, who?" She asks. She watches Louis swallow hard before explaining.

"His name is Harry. He's a photographer, it's rumored he does a lot of boudoir and naughty pictures, no one knows for sure. He's sort of a bad boy mystery." Lily watched as the man took off his helmet, shaking out thick curly locks that she instinctively wanted to run her fingers through.

"Oh." She said nearly breathless. He looks up, hooking his helmet under his arm. Lily feels her heart skips a beat when he locked eyes with her. His eyes were green, so light and pretty, she had to look away before she got lost in them. "I better go find Marie. She is the reason I came tonight." Lily said, clearing her throat.

"Right." Louis said, reaching out to hug her. He could see Harry was watching them, a blank expression on his face as Louis pulled away. "I'll talk to you soon...and Lily," he reached for her hand before she walked away. "Stay away from 'im please. I don't know what I'd do if you eva got hurt." Lily gave him a sweet smile before walking off to find Marie.

Harry didn't usually come to these things. He perfered to keep to himself, stay at home and catch up on some reading or work on some pictures he'd taken. But Marie was his boss and she'd been nothing but kind to him since he started working for her. It was almost a dream really, right out of Uni he had gotten the call. Someone in the States had seen his portfolio and really admired his work. It had all gone from there. So if anything he was grateful for the opportunity she had given him.

Everyone had stared at him when he pulled up on his bike. It was still a work in progress, but he hadn't thought it looked that shitty. He avoided the stares and questioning looks as he entered the party, hoping to only say hello to Marie and then leave.

It was when he had taken off his helmet and felt someone staring at him that he saw her.

She stood in the corner of the living room, right by the record player, eyes locking with his intensely. Her dark hair fell down around her shoulders in simple, loose curls, brown eyes gazing at him with curiosity. She looked away too soon.

Lily never ended up finding Marie. She pushed her way through the crowded house and out into the fresh night air. There were a few couples scattered about here and there but everyone was mostly inside, the party was kicking up a notch and that was her cue to head home.

She thought about the man. Harry, as she kicked pebbles with her shoes, arms crossed against her chest as the cool breeze swept through her hair. She should have brought a jacket maybe. But it had been warmer earlier so she hadn't thought to. It was close to midnight and she could feel exhaustion seeping into her bones as she walked the three blocks to her apartment.

The rumble of a motorcycle behind her startled her, causing her to cry out and nearly stumble. She turned to see the head light of the bikes nearly blinding her as it came to a stop beside her.

"Hey," the driver pulled his helmet off and she felt her heart jump into her stomach. It was him. "Need a ride?" He asked. Lily opened her mouth to reply but thought about Louis's warning.

"No thanks. My apartment is close."

"It's a little late to be walking home alone don't you think?"

"I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself." Harry grinned, she was quick. He shut off his motorcycle, climbing off of it and steering it towards the curb. He let up the kick stand and walked back over to Lily, shimmying out of his jacket.

"Here," he offered, holding out his coat. Lily was taken aback by his demeanor. He spoke to her so easily, as if they were friends and hadn't just met. "I noticed your arms. A bit nippy out tonight yeah?" Wordlessly Lily takes the leather jacket, it's heavy, but warm from his body heat as she wraps it around herself.

"Thank you." She managed.

"No problem....please. Let me walk you home. I can't leave without knowin' ya made it. Would weigh heavy on my conscience." Lily laughed softly at his words, he seemed so formal, almost stiff.

"I suppose. As long as you don't plan on stalking me." He smirked, coming to walk beside her.

"Course not. My mum raised a gentleman."

"How did you find me anyway?" She asked. He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his Jean's.

"Was goin' home myself an saw you. Couldn't jus let you go off alone." She nodded.

They walked in silence for a bit, Lily didn't know what to say really. She was surprised and impressed by his kindness. But Harry's growling stomach ended up speaking for both of them.

"Sorry." He said shyly, patting his belly. "Haven' are in a while."

"There's a diner around the corner from my place....if you wanted to stop and grab something really quick?"

"You sure that's alright?" He asked her.

"Sure. I'll buy, pay you back for your chivalry." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"No need to do that love."

Frankie's was a 24 hour dinner. Lily came there many a night during college to cram for exams and drink enough black coffee to kill her. It was her place, but it felt a little weird bringing Harry there. She only just met him.

"Hey Martha." Lily said as they slid into a booth by the window. The older woman had walked over almost immediately, throwing Lily a kind smile.

"Who's this handsome young man you've brought with you?" Martha winked at Harry. He smiled, unable to contain his laughter.

"'m Harry. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand.

"My what a gentleman." Martha said, dramatically crossing her hand over her heart before shaking his. "What can I get you kids?"

"I'll have a chocolate milkshake and a burger, everything on it." Harry raised his eyebrows slightly. Lily was a little girl, he hadn't expected that.

"And you?" Martha asked.

"I'll have wha' she's havin' sounds good." Martha scribbled the order down before walking away. Lily cleared her throat, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"So your accent? You're british?" Harry nodded.

"Proudly."

"What brought you to the states?"

"I always wanted to be a professional photographer. Went to Uni for it. When I was getting ready to graduate we had to set up our portfolios. Marie saw mine and liked it. Offered me a job almost a week after I graduated. So I took the time to get the paper work done and now I'm here on a work visa." Martha brought out the milkshakes. Lily took a long sip of hers, savoring the chocolate taste on her tongue.

"So that's how you know Marie."

"How do you know her?"

"We were roomies in college. We went to Berkely together. She was into all the marketing and stuff. I went for Women's studies and Philosophy."

"I'm impressed."

"Don't be. It's not that great."

They chattered a bit more before their food came. Lily learned that Harry had one older sister and two older step siblings. The way he spoke about his mother and his sister, you'd have thought they hung the moon and threw the stars into the sky. Lily found herself listening closely, palm on her chin as she focused on his words and the calm slow cadence of his voice.

"Tha' was delicious." Harry said, licking his fingers. Lily laughed dipping the last fry into ketchup. She started to fish out her wallet, only for Harry to hold up his hand.

"I said I got it Harry."

"At least let me split it."

"Fine." They split the bill and each leave a little tip, waving good bye to Martha as they left the diner, it was later now, nearly two in the morning and Lily could feel the exhaustion catching up to her.

"How much further from your flat are we?" Harry asked. He reached out, taking her hand in his as she led him down the street towards her apartment.

"Right here," she said, turning towards a painted white door, surrounded by a wrought iron fence and bricks. Harry walked her up to the door, taking his jacket back as she shrugged it off her shoulders.

"I'm glad you decided to walk me home." She acknowledged, a small and sleepy smile on her face.

"I'm glad you let me." They stared at each other for a moment more, electricity vibrating between them as they locked eyes. Harry swallowed hard, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

"G'night Miss. Lily."

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Luckenbach, Texas

A/N: Back at it with the Play The Hand You’re Dealt event, this time with Ryan Brenner, and darn did it feel good to write him again. This one actually felt really good to write. It takes place pretty far on down the road for you and Ryan so you have a lot to get through before you get here, but this is a little look at where you’re headed together. Also, 4th of July is just fun. All of it. 

(if you want to know more about Luckenbach, Texas, population 3, click here.) 

Word Count: 1,856

Prompt from: @thesumofmychoices - Ryan, fluff, Ryan’s POV & Celebration or Holiday (omg that’s a crazy story about your dog!) 

Ryan stopped a few feet from where you sat, watching as you talked animatedly to Georgie and Layla. Her hair’s gettin’... he felt his cheeks lift as his lips parted in a smile. The humidity had wreaked havoc on your curls, pulling frizzy tendrils out from the braid around the crown of your head. You raked your fingertips over it in a halfhearted attempt to corral the strays, but let your arms drop back to your lap as you laughed, hair completely unchanged. No use. He knew it just as well as you did. Condensation ran down the plastic cups Ryan carried, pooling between his fingers and dripping onto the dry, brown dirt, but he stayed rooted in place for a beat or two longer as you threw your head back in another laugh, giving Georgie a playful shove. Get ‘im. 

Grin widening, he laughed to himself and resumed walking toward the three of you. Georgie slung his arms one at a time around you and Layla drawing you both into a tight hug. Layla flipped her long yellow hair over her shoulder before rising on her toes to plant a kiss to Georgie’s round cheek, burnt bright red from the day in the sun, his bowler nearly toppling from his head as she took him by surprise. They’re havin’ fun. Sweat licked at the back of his neck where the unruly ends of his hair stuck out from beneath the canvas hat he wore, but the warmth in his chest had nothing to do with the summer heat. Looking around, he saw that the same was true of everyone gathered - music and laughter filled the night as the mouthwatering smells of sugary confections and grilled meats wafted from the snack stand attached to the general store. I’m glad we did this.

The sky was just starting to fade from blue to purple, lightening a shade before the thick, black night came to swallow it up. Fireflies hovered in patterns and formations through the warm air, their bioluminescent signals adding to the golden glow of the lights strung across the square. The pluck of guitar and banjo strings from the stage to the left mixed with the boot stomps emanating from the open doors of the dance hall as people gathered in clusters or strolled here and there. Flags, banners, pinwheels and bunting decorated the stage and various small buildings, stars and stripes in bold Americana colors. Kids darted by hopped up on funnel cakes and clutching sparklers, their eyes wide in awe of the flickering pyrotechnics that their parents only let them play with this one night of the year. He stepped to the side to avoid a collision with a sticky-fingered boy, a popsicle in each hand and his sister chasing after him. Woah. Taking care not to slosh the contents of the cups he carried onto the troublemakers’ heads, he trained his eyes on the level of liquid as it splashed in small waves and finally steadied back out. 

“That was a close one, Brenner.” 

He looked up in time to see your fingers curling around one of the cups that he held, just below his own. Your pointer finger slid over his pinky to trace the lines that were inked between his knuckles, teeth digging into the corner of your fire-engine red bottom lip as you gave him a crooked smile that made the sparklers and fireflies seem dim. Handing you your beverage he bit back a groan, letting it out as a throaty laugh instead. Tease. “Yeah, but did you see that save?”

You scrunched your nose at him as you smiled and reached up to push a sweaty clump of his hair back behind his ears. Ryan tilted his head into your touch, eyes falling closed as your fingertips grazed the bottom of his earlobe, but opening again as your hand fell down to clasp his empty one. “I did. That was some fancy footwork there, I’m impressed.” Your laugh brightened your eyes as it tumbled from your open mouth, your thin fingers squeezing his rough palm. “You been holdin’ out on me, Ryan?” You shifted your eyes and took a sip of your beer.

Never have, never will. It was no secret that while music and rhythm seemed to flow in his veins, Ryan Brenner was not a very good dancer. “Nah,” he shook his head, and slowly, so that you had plenty of time to react, lifted your joined hands to turn you under his arm. Your surprised gasp of his name hit him in the chest as a few drops of cold beer splashed onto his forearm and soaked into the hem of his white tee. You leaned into him and he felt the last shakes of your laughter leave your lungs. He dropped your hand so he could press his to the small of your back, fingers grazing your skin under the bottom of your navy blue tank top. I love this woman. “You know I save all my best moves for you, Junebug.” He kissed your forehead, the wispy little rebellious frizz along your hairline tickling his lips. 

Humming contentedly, you wrapped your free arm around his waist and looked up at him, chin tucked into the crook of his shoulder. “Yeah, you do.” You licked your lips as he took a swig from the red cup. “I’m lucky like that.”   

Ryan’s fingers flexed to push you even closer to his side, but before he could continue the pointless conversation of which of you were luckier, Georgie called over, his raucous tone cutting through the ambient sound easily. “Hey you two comin’ back anytime soon or you just gonna stand there all night?” 

He looked up to see his friend waving his arm from the rock wall surrounding the big Cedar Elm where the four of you had been sitting enjoying the music after your set. You laughed again, turning your face into his chest before meeting his eyes once more. Ryan trailed his fingers up your back until his palm reached the center of your shoulder blades. He took a deep breath through his nose, inhaling the scent of your floral shampoo mixed with dirt, sweat, and the sweet coconut smell of the sunscreen you’d slathered on all day. Still got a tan though, and I see some new freckles. His cheek twitched to the side pulling his lips along with it, and he leaned in to drag the tip of his nose over the bridge of yours and down to the crest of your cheek where the sun had painted new speckles on your skin. He kissed them, and you smiled under the bristles of his beard as he dropped his lips down to capture yours. Love her so damn much. 

Three and a half years had gone by, but it hadn’t taken Ryan that long to realize that you were right for him in a million ways that he hadn’t even considered. You’d taught him how to stand still and spend more time thinking about where he was now instead of where he was headed next. But you’d also showed him how easily you could pick up and head back to the road when it was time, how you’d completely accepted his wandering ways. He’d let you into every part of his life, all the secrets that he kept close to his heart like the treasures that you knew he kept hidden safely in a zippered inner pocket of his big canvas coat that he wore in the winter time- an arrowhead, a clover, others things he’d collected that no one else knew existed aside from the people who he’d gotten the items from. A penny, a guitar pick, an old zippo lighter. You’d fit into his family as though you’d been there all along, both on the road and back home; in that zippered pocket, and at Aunt Holly’s table. 

She fits here, too. He’d had the thought earlier in the night, standing between you and Georgie on the small wooden stage. The three of you had played a set of eight songs together while Layla joined the small crowd that lingered nearby- mostly songs that he’d been playing for years, ones that he’d played with Cowboy and Virginia, way back before he’d even met the bright eyed button nosed fiddler to his left. But then you’d also played the song that you’d helped him write back on your apartment floor in front of the fireplace, and it felt just as right as the other songs. Ryan and Georgie hadn’t been back to Luckenbach for the Fourth of July festival in the nearly five years since Cowboy had been gone. It felt right to come back this year with you, with Georgie bringing Layla. Next year Ginny and Henry’ll come too, he’ll be old enough, he’ll get a kick outta the tractor parade in town. The thought of the six of you being there together lightened his heart.  

“Brenner? You hear me or-” Georgie called again as Ryan finally broke the kiss, eyes locked on yours as he brought his hand up, fingers tracing the freckles he’d just kissed. 

“Keep your pants on, Georgie,” Ryan called, tearing his eyes from you to turn towards the other man. “I’m kissin’ my girl an’ takin’ my time.” He’d lowered his voice, no longer shouting for the entertainment of everyone around, speaking only for you to hear. Dipping his head back down, he caught another quick kiss, enjoying the way you sighed into it and how you gathered a fistful of his tee. Never gets old, never will. 

“Ryan,” slightly out of breath, you whispered his name through a grin that only got brighter as the sky darkened. Shaking your head you asked, “What was that for?” 

Ryan swallowed and narrowed his eyes. It hadn’t taken him three and a half years to know that you were it for him, but it was moments like this that reinforced that fact; moments that made him sure that you were all he wanted, all he’d ever want. He blinked and lowered his hand from your face, reaching for your free hand. Smiling, he took another swing of his beer. “Nothin’,” he tugged your hand and started walking back towards Georgie and Layla as a guitarist wearing a harmonica neckstrap stepped up to take the mic next. “Let’s get over there’n rescue Layla.” You laughed and Ryan pressed his lips together to try to keep from joining you. “Poor girl, he’s probably talkin’ her ear off or somethin’, you know how he-” 

You cut him off, rising to your toes to kiss him quickly. “I love you, Ryan.”

There weren’t any fireworks planned in Luckenbach. Might be able to see ‘em from Fredricksburg if it’s a clear night, Georgie had explained to you and Layla earlier in the day. It was the Fourth of July, but it was also just another night in the heart of Texas. It was a night of music and festive celebration, good food, good people and good feelings. Who needs fireworks?

.

.

.

@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @songtoyou @traeumerinwitzhelden @gollyderek @obscurilicious @malionnes @with1love1anu @beautifuldesastre​ @luminex3​ 

if you would like to be added or removed from the tags, please let me know! (and if you have let me know and I haven’t changed it please tell me again because I am a well intentioned albeit forgetful fool)  Thanks for reading! 

[friccafracc]

Ayoo, finally wrote a continuation. Even included @cookienerdzzz​’s Polaroid… hope you like it<3

Alright. Line of sight’s clear, weather’s good, and Optimus is completely unaware of their presence. They’ve got this in the bag. Gearshift maneuvers themself along the dropoff along the hillside, obscured by the bushes and trees as they make their way closer to their quarry. Almost inexplicably, Optimus had transformed into rootmode somewhere along his usual patrol route and wandered into the nearby woods, apparently not learning his lesson that he really shouldn’t patrol all on his own. Ducking behind some thick foliage, Gearshift watches as Optimus wanders seemingly aimlessly through the thicket of trees, stopping briefly to stare off into the middle distance. They take this moment to get a little closer, ducking behind a large boulder when Optimus turns around to look at more of the forest. When Gearshift looks back out in the open, they see Optimus turning a corner so he’s completely hidden by the tall dropoff and they curse. As quickly and quietly as they can, Gearshift sneaks to the rough surface of the dropoff and peak around it to find… nothing. Cursing again, they turn their helm this way and that to find any sign of where Optimus might’ve gone but fin nothing. They creep into the clearing, still looking around for their quarry and listening for any sign of him but find nothing.

  “Damn, where could ‘e ‘ave gone?” Gearshift mutters, hands planted on their hips.

  Before they know it, they’re landing flat on their back with a loud “clang” into the dirt below in a complete daze.

  “I had a feeling I’d see you again,” Optimus’ steely voice rings in their audials.

   After the initial shock wheres off somewhat, they open their optics back up to see Optimus looming over them with his optics narrowed into slits, glaring daggers into them that send a chill down their spinal strut. Gearshift digs their hands into the ground as their sparks whirls quickly in their chest.

  “I’m not gonna go down so easy this time,” Optimus grits his denta together keeping Gearshift���s optics on his face.

  Gearshift’s processor comes to a quick halt as their fuel lines burn with the rapid rush of energon quickly flooding their faceplate and all they can think is, “Dear Primus help me-”

  “Heh,” Gearshift’s mouth works faster than they can think and they say, “Pretty n’ smart. Ah was right. Yer a real catch, Optimus Prime.”

Thankfully, that’s enough to give Optimus pause, leaving Gearshift enough room to kick back out of Optimus’ reach and land as best as they can on their pedes with one hand resting on the cable at their hip. Not missing a beat, Optimus lets his faceplate snap shut and antes up for a fight, his servos tightening into fists and his optics pierce into Gearshift’s very core, watching for the first sign of movement. Gearshift swallows down their nerves and tightens their servo on the cable as they widen their stance. This, already, is not going how they planned but they know that they at least have a good few minutes before Optimus’ team rolls onto the scene. Even when they do finally show up, Gearshift has a plan ready for them.

  With a quick vent, they whip out the cable towards Optimus who predictably leaps out of the way towards the high dropoff. Gearshift lets the cable fall as they rush into Optimus’ space while his optics are still on the cable and knocks into him, sending them careening into the dirt. A large cloud of dust engulfs them as they struggle against each other, Optimus getting a few blows in against Gearshift’s chassis making them grunt in pain. They reach above Optimus’ helm and snag the cable, bringing it up to wrap it around Optimus’ wrist while leaving themself wide open for a blow to their chest that knocks the air from their vents. Tugging back on the cable, Gearshift manages to immobilize one Optimus’ caught hand as they push him to the ground. A flash of blue lights up in their peripheral and they manage to dodge just in time as an energy ax sweeps through the air at them, making them let go of the cable as they leap back. Optimus quickly rises to his pedes and almost casually twirls his ax in one hand that has Gearshift ignoring the jump in their spark. They laugh nervously with a small shrug which gets a curious look from Optimus before they dive back into the fray.

  This time, Optimus is more than ready for them and Gearshift learns just how dangerous he can be. As Optimus bears down on them, blow after the blow blazing through the air with vicious speed and laser-like precision, Gearshift can’t get a single shot in as they become overwhelmed with the task of just dodging Optimus’ ruthless attack. Gearshift tries to reach for the cable only for Optimus to kick it out of the way and swing his ax back up to get them far away from it and that’s what does it. A very clear realization strikes Gearshift, on that had been forming during this entire fight that boils down simply to that Optimus isn’t trying to kill them. Every time he swings his ax, even when it’s just to get Gearshift away, it’s aimed at non-vital parts of their body, staying well away from their head and spark. It takes not just training but serious effort and consideration to fight a bot like that, so much so Gearshift almost feels flattered. Optimus isn’t so much treating this as a life or death fight, but a high-stakes sparring match.

  Getting their second wind, Gearshift rolls their shoulders and puts up their fists just as the sound of approaching engines rumble through the air. In no time at all, Optimus’ squad is breaking through the trees and flanking Optimus on either side ready for a fight. Gearshift, more than expecting this, reaches to their hips to get… nothing. They pat their body for a moment to find it but come up empty so they look down briefly just to confirm that it really is gone then look back up to see a very smug Prime.

  “Looking for something?” Optimus quirks his hips and pulls out Gearshift EMP grenade and tosses it casually in his hand.

  Out of nonlethals, now in a five to one fight, and without a clear escape, Gearshift was starting to run out of options.

  “Ha, Ya definitely know how ta keep a bot on their pedes, that’s fer sure.” Gearshift puts their servos up, wracking their processor for something they can do, “T’aint over yet though.”

  That puts them all on edge, tensing in preparation for the next attack.

  “Ya think I wouldn’t’ve prepared for somethin’ like this?” Opening a panel in their arm, they hover a servo over the exposed panel while looking Optimus right in the optics as they drawl out, “Yer right where ah want ya, Optimus.”

  Optimus and his team all begin to look around for the unknown threat and when all optics are off of them, Gearshift turns tail and runs as fast and far as they can until they hit a clearing and transform into their altmode. They make it all the way back to their ship when they hear the sound of engines giving chase behind them. Gearshift leaps into their transformation sequence and runs as soon as they hit the ground into their ship. Without hesitating, they hop into the pilot’s seat and prepare to lift off. Just as the jets rocket them up into the sky, they see Optimus’ team rushing towards their ship but they won’t be catching Gearshift today. Stars explode around them as their ship breaks through the atmosphere and they fall back into their seat with a heavy sigh to stare out the viewport. Another day, another failure.

  With heavy pedes, Gearshift walks in sluggishly and slumps into a chair then puts their helm on the table. A cube of actual energon gets set in front of them and they look up to find Smokebox smiling that masked smile of his, looking far too amused for his own good. They pick up the cube and take a long drink of the energon quickly, the familiar warmth that comes from real energon brings them some comfort and they nod their thanks to Smokebox, feeling a little better. A weight suddenly rocks the table, startling them out of their stupor and Gearshift looks to see the familiar white paint job with rainbow stripes of Polaroid, a far too round and friendly mech for these parts.

  “Heya, Gears,” Polaroid greets them with his usual upbeat attitude, “Why so glum?”

  Gearshift groans and plants their face back on the table as Smokebox chuckles off to the side.

  “Gearshift is havin’ themself a bit o’ trouble with that quarry a’ theirs,” Smokebox explains with a knowing look shot at Gearshift.

  Gearshift glares at him which only succeeds in making Smokebox laugh and shake his helm as he sets his tray off to the side before pulling up a seat to join them.

  “A quarry?” Polaroid perks up at that and with a bit of concern adds, “Who’s it this time ‘round?”

  “Optimus Prime,” Gearshift mutters, taking another sip of the energon, savoring the taste.

  Polaroid stiffens at that which is odd to Gearshift but never one to pry they let it go.

  “What’s got ya so invested in ‘im?” Polaroid continues.

  “Probably quite a few things ah reckin’,” Smokebox teases with a nudge of his elbow against Gearshift’s arm.

  With a pointed glare at Smokebox, Gearshift says to Polaroid, “T’aint like that, Poly, ah swear. That Prime’s jus’ worth a good deal o’ credits.”

  “Right,” Smokebox drawls while leaning back with his arms crossed, looking no less amused.

  “Not like…”  Polaroid takes a moment to consider what they mean then smacks his servos on the table, startling Gearshift all the while beaming brightly at them with a shine of understanding to his optics.

Gearshift, realizing the conclusion he’s come to, puts their servos up and shakes their helm as they frantically insist, “Ah said it wasn’t like that! Cuz it ain’t.”

  “Ya got a crush!” Polaroid declares loud enough to rouse the sleeping mech in the corner, “Ya got a crush on Optimus Prime!”

  “No!” Gearshift stands up, pointing sternly at Polaroid, “‘e’s got a bounty on ‘is helm the size of Luna 2. That’s it. Plain n’ simple.”

  Polaroid just puts a servo over his mouth and snickers. Smokebox pats their arm, getting them to look at him.

  “Settle down n’ drink yer energon, kiddo,” Smokebox sighs and leans against the table, “Ya have t’ admit that there’s at least a ‘lil somethin’ more goin’ on here than a regular ol’ bounty.”

  Gearshift clams up and sits down, feeling the heat rise on their face as energon floods their faceplates. They try to hide it behind the cube of energon, but it’s too late, the damage has been done.

  Smokebox studies Gearshift for a moment then clicks his glossa, “Maybe ya should take a break from catchin’ this Prime. Take on another job n’ clear yer head.”

  Slumping in their seat, Gearshift swirls the energon in its cube before downing the rest of it and setting the empty cube on the table.

  Polaroid pipes up, “Ya shouldn’t beat yerself up too much, Gears. Y’know yer a pit of a bounty hunter but this one’s jus’ gettin’ away from ya cuz yer invested in other ways.”

  Gearshift slams the table with one servo and shouts, “Ah told ya ah’m not-”

  They cut themself off cold and lean on their elbows on the table and put their face in their hands. Sucking in a deep vent, Gearshift lets it out slowly and pushes back off the table to get up. When they start to get out the credits to pay for the energon, Smokebox puts a servo up and shakes his helm.

  “Y’ve had a rough day, kiddo,” Smokebox offers them a kinder smile and cleans of the table before getting up himself, “This one’s on tha house.”

Gearshift nods and offers Polaroid an apologetic look who waves them off.

  “Ah’m headin’ upstairs,” Gearshift calls over their shoulder, “Ah’ll see ya ‘round, Poly.”

  “Rest up, Gears,” Polaroid calls back before heading out.

  They lay on their berth and shut their optics tight, trying to put the day out of mind but no matter how hard they try, they keep coming back to those blue optics staring them down without speck of fear. Deep down they know they’ve lost but they’re not about to admit it, not just yet. In the darkness of their room, they fall into a fitful recharge.

  The next morning, while Gearshift is still groggy from a bad recharge cycle and Smokebox hasn’t even opened his doors for business yet, Polaroid comes in looking frantic. Polaroid vents heavily as he recovers from driving hard over here while leaning against the bar. Gearshift can tell he drove hard from the smell of burning rubber lingering around his frame. Before Gearshift can get a word out, Polaroid has them by the shoulders with a very troubled look on his face. Gearshift embraces him back, worry rising in their spark and waits for Polaroid to gain back enough ventilation to speak.

  “Yer crush is in trouble!” Polaroid spouts when he finally can, still a little breathless.

  Gearshift tenses and on reflex says, “Ah told ya, ‘e’s not-”

  “Don’t matta’ which way that credit falls, Gears,” Polaroid cuts them off as his expression turns almost apologetic as he says then next thing in a much more gentle tone, “Lockdown’s got ‘im.”

  Gearshift’s optics go wide and without thinking, they’re out the door running to their ship. ------------------------- BITCH IM!!!!!!!! OKAY HEART EYES, MOTHERFUCKER AAAAAAAAAAAA

[iris-ymir]

...The morning after

Evangeline trotted through the hallway, and turned into the kitchen, pushing open the door to immediately be faced by Iris' lithe and slender back, covered only by a very transparent nightgown.  The woman wasn't wearing much else...skimpy lace lingerie...and was holding a cup of coffee which was slowly releasing steam into the air around her.  Evangeline stopped, frozen in place for the second time this morning, but this time for a very different reason. "I....uhh...s-sorry..." she stammered, flushing immediately.  "I d-didn't know...you were awake...I hope you didn't have too much trouble sleeping..."  She shuffled her feet, trying not to look at the slope of Iris' back, the curve of her hips, the nape of her neck... Eva promptly realized that she was doing exactly that-tracing the lines of Iris' body with her eyes, unable to look away.  Iris was so thin...she looked to be a willow branch, flexible in nature, ready to bend should it need to, but never break.  It was then that Eva saw...one of the things that she found truly attractive about Iris.  She was resilient.  She had been through so much...lost so much...been so thoroughly hurt by the world...but she had not broken.  She would not break.  Evangeline was in awe of it...the power she exuded. She shook her head, attempting to clear it, and tried to speak. “I...um...I-I was about to...make myself some breakfast. C-can I make you something?” She stared at the ground, still flushing, hoping Iris would respond. Iris turned around, hearing Eva’s voice from the doorway. “Oh, Cinnabun! Suprised to see yer still stickin’ around... ’Ow the ‘ell do ya dink someone can sleep in dis frickin’ ruckus, though? Tha annoyin’ clapper of dat roegadyn’s lips would wake up the heckin’ corpses...” Suddenly Iris heard the steps from the stairs. During the years in manor, she had learned to recognize Varg’s way of striding. The old au ra did his best to not draw attention to his bad leg, but if you knew what to listen to, you could hear a very slight limp on his footsteps. After one last swift draw, pale viera tossed what was left of the cigarette into the sink, fanning the air around her with a sleeve of her dressing gown to get rid of the smoke, and hopefully, the smell.

With a relieved sigh, Iris circled her way around the table, and leaned onto the other side of it, her eyes traveling up and down on Eva’s body. An impish smirk played on her lips, as her eyes finally nailed onto woman’s purple pools. “Breakfast, ya say? Seein’ somethin’ appetizing? Hm?” Viera let her dressing gown drop casually off her shoulder, while taking a sip, keeping her eyes on Eva, over the rim of her cup. “...I dun need anythin’, Cinnabun. Its too heckin’ early to get any food stuff down aniway... I’ll just... get done wid dis...”, she tipped her cup towards her companion. “...And den I’ll be off. Gonna see mi Silke... Mi fallen angel should be havin’ a day off, and Im gonna drag dat purdiful nose of ‘ers off tha damn books for a change! I need to get outta ‘ere... I cant stand dat damn roegadyn in mi fockin’ eyes...”

Evangeline listened passively to Iris, crossing her arms and cocking her head to the side as she saw the pale woman trail off, seeming to be listening for something.  Eva paid it no mind, however...her senses weren’t particularly sharp and the sound of the others carrying on was more than enough to drown out anything she might have picked up on.  Iris didn’t look scared, or worried, which was the important part.  Her eyes followed the viera as she moved down from the table, her jaw going slightly slack as Iris dropped her dressing gown.  She knew Iris was playing games...but Evangeline rather liked this one. “Ah..appetizing? Y-yes…” slipped from her mouth without her realizing it.  “I mean-!” She hurridly corrected herself.  “I had thought to look in the pantry…t-to see if there were eggs or anything.”  She chewed on her lip, her eyes still following Iris’ lithe form as she attempted to remove her foot from her mouth for the hundredth time. “I’m not the best cook...but I can get something together…” she mused, trailing off as Iris mentioned ‘Silke.’  Evangeline’s blood ran cold...Iris’ fallen angel? Who could this be…?  It sounded like she was at least a woman...not another gods-damned man...but did there always have to be competition?  After a few seconds of considering, feeling her chest tighten, she knew she had to ask. “Silke? Who’s that?” She intoned, as casually as she could muster. “Who? Mi Silke..?”, an impish smile lingered on Iris’ black-painted lips, as she rolled the shoulder strap around her finger. She had cut the two broken nails short, and painted them red, instead of her usual black. “Silke.. Silke is mi... friend. My muse... Mine... She just... does not quite realize it just yet, but she will be! The skin as pale as a porcelain doll.. ‘er hair long and dark, like the vast sea at midnight.. And dose torquoise eyes! Like a heckin’ lagoon ya could just drown into. Fockin’ dazzlin’ lass. Tha best heckin’ ass from ‘ere to Limsa Lominsa, I tell ya... A goddess among rats, Cinnabun..” Pale viera walked up to her partner, gazing up to those purple pools through her thick lashes. “Ya should come wid mi, sweetie... Hm?”, while talking softly, she ran her fingernails up on Eva’s toned arm, trailing her way up onto her shoulder. “Ya know... I might ‘ave an idea!”, she tiptoed placing a quick kiss on other’s lips, before taking a step back. The scent of the cigarette she just finished still lingered on her breath.. with something else. “Yer gonna take a shower, okai? Yer... in need o’ one. And while at dat, I’ll whip ya sum breakfast, okai? Believe mi or not... Im quuuite ‘andy in tha scullery! Den ya eat yer fill... And wi ‘ead out! Hm? Whuddu-ya sai?” Iris winks, turning around swiftly, and making her way to the stove, and soon the light of flames started to dance on her pale skin. She pulled out another cigarette with her lips, carefully lighting it on the stove, and picked up a large knife. “...So... How do ya wunt yer yello’ eyes, Cinnabun?” The tip of the cigarette jumped up and down merrily, as she spoke. Evangeline bit her lip.  This was exactly what she had feared…’friend’ most certainly seemed to mean ‘competition’ in this context.  Eva had yet to hear the deathly pale Iris complement anyone so flagrantly, nor had she ever expressed any interest in possessing someone.  This would be...a difficult situation.  Evangeline could feel that little monster writhing around in her stomach.  Covered in spines, pricking at her when she least expected it, crawling up her ribs and poking around inside her. Jea-lou-sy.  An emotion that Eva was very much familiar with.  It had cost her her previous relationship...or so she would assume.  Eventually Solenna may come looking for her...but with her new boy occupying her?  She doubted it.  Eva wasn’t worth the effort...not worth the attention.  She felt suddenly as if she were made of molasses, weary even as the little green beast scuttled through her innards.  Was this truly how she should spend her day?  Wouldn’t it be better to let Iris have her time with her ‘friend?’ To not interfere?  Evangeline had said she wouldn’t try and tie Iris down, or cage her...she had made that promise.  She should stand by it, and let the other woman go about her business.  She had almost resolved to gently excuse herself from the situation when...a shiver ran down her spine at Iris’ touch. Ya should come wid mi, sweetie...Hm? Gods...damn...it.  She couldn’t say no to this woman.  Iris’ lips touched hers, bringing heat rushing to her cheeks and her finger to her lips, cementing her fate.  She listened quietly as Iris rattled off her ideas, seemingly in a rather good mood this morning. She was on the verge of responding, telling Iris she preferred her eggs sunny side up, when Arsene drifted into the room, causing Eva to stammer and pause, scratching the back of her neck awkwardly.  Butler squinted eyes quickly observed the surroundings, spotting the two Vieras. Iris' current state of clothing, a knife on one hand, and a lit cigarette between her lips made the old Elezen tilt his head slightly, yet no trace of emotion to one way or another could be read from his face. Arsene strode hastily to one of the windows, slamming it open with one hand. He then proceed to take a pot of hot water, pouring the content into a cup with a string of teabag hanging over the rim. He let out a sigh, slowly turning to face the women once more, observing the situation. "Forgive me, miss Iris, miss Evangelin, for my intrusion," he said, now with a warm smile on his lips, "but you should be aware that you only need to ask, should you require any sort of.. Specialities to your ordinary breakfast, that I could provide you with." “Oh, Im mighty-fine, Gramps!”, Iris placed a pan on dancing flames, while rolling the knife around on her fingers, like a street performer. As the pan was hot, she added a piece of butter and broke three eggs onto it, using her free hand. For a person who looked like cooking plain water was all she could do, she handled the eggs well, managing to break them without getting a single piece of shell onto the pan. While shedding some ashes into the sink, she poked the bubbling eggs with the tip of her knife, wiggling her hips languorously. “...Ohhh fockin’ ‘ell!! Graa-aamps! I need a heckin spatula! I ‘ave.. a situation goin’ on ‘ere! Uhh.. shiteclippers!” Hissing a curse through her teeth, pale viera moved the pan off the flames, while dumping the cigarette onto the edge of the sink. “...Aand.. sum o’ dat ace bacon, if we still ‘ave it? And.. A bun! Yass.. A heckin’ bagel! Goat cheese! For fock’s sake... Evangelin’! Tha frickin’ chicken squirts! How do ya take dem, sweetie?! ‘Cause soon tha only option is damn crispy!” As Iris started to fumble, still trying to flip the eggs with a knife for some reason, Evangeline looked back to her, and barely managed to utter: “Scrambled...thank you, Iris.  I’ll…”  She paused, trying very hard to make the right decision, and proceeding to fail miserably.  “I would...love to join you...it would be nice to meet your friend.”  She gritted her teeth slightly, but didn’t make much of a show of it.  The creature in her stomach clawed away…and something occurred to her.  Perhaps it would calm down if she at least met this ‘Silke.’  Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t...right?  Might as well find out if she had a shot, at least.  At being something.  Feeling like she was something.  She smiled slightly at Iris. “Thank you for making me something, Iris.  I appreciate the effort...could I trouble either of you for directions to a bath or a shower?  I could use a bit of a refresher…” She ran her fingers through her hair, still somewhat slick with sweat.  Definitely not showing off her arms in the process.  Well, maybe a little bit. Arsene kept his eyes peeled at Iris' effort at the knifeplay for a short moment, then gliding next to her, to open the drawer right beside her. He picked up, and rolled the spatula in his fingers, then softly placed it very close to the steaming pan, using his little finger to knock the dumped cigarette bud into the sink with the same motion."Use the poker, young miss, calm the flames.." he said with a velvety tone in his voice. He took a long step leftwards, pulling a thick cloth from on top of a pile of rather large, fresh buns, still steaming slightly. "Feel free to eat as many as you wish, Master Blacksoul has already left.. Add some salt now, young miss." Arsene opened a small shelf-door, revealing a large variety of spices. He picked up a small jar, placing it close to where he had just placed the spatula. Arsene shifted his gaze to Evangelin, his lips turned into a smile. "Of course, miss Evangelin. I shall guide you personally to the bathing rooms, while I go get the meat, and some herbal butter for young miss Iris' bagel.." Arsene looked back to Iris, his eyes gleaming in the flames. Placing the knife onto table, Iris picked up the poker, turning her gaze to Eva. “Eyyyy! Cinnabun! Ya want mi to... calm yer flames?”, she waved the poker at the other, before sticking it into the furnace under the stove. “Talkin’ about dat... Do ya also ‘ave flame flowers growin’ in yer secret garden, or only on top of yer ‘ead? ...Scrambled it is! ...I think dats the only choise wi ‘ave at dis point aniway... Ohhh, for fock’s sake, the heckin’ salt! Thanke, Gramps!!” Viera returned the pan on the stove, adding some salt, before going through the open spice cabinet. After shuffling through the jars for a moment, opening one from here and there, she picks out some pepper mix and paprika compote. Humming a cheerful tone, she reached for the knife, cut a bagel in half, and applied some compote onto it, before toppling it with the scrambled eggs. “Ohhh yissss, dis will be perfect.. Dont ya float in dere for too long, Cinnabun.. Yer meal will get cold, ya know!” Iris glanced towards Eva for one last time with a playful wink, as she made her way to the coffee pot, filling it with fresh water. Evangeline thought to blush at ‘calm your flames’, but was briefly given pause by Iris’ mention of her ‘secret garden…’  It took her a moment to realize what the other woman meant, watching as she cavorted around the kitchen, a nymph, lithe and joyful, bouncing around as if she had cooked for all her life.  Then it occurred to her just exactly what Iris had asked her...and her face immediately turned as red as her hair.  It occurred to her that taking a seat on the spot may not be a bad idea, since she felt as if she were liable to faint at any moment. “I-...j-...don-...you…” She was barely able to form words at this point, she was so thoroughly embarrassed.  This seemed to be the norm around here...given how Arsene had barely reacted.  Eva, it seemed...would need to get used to this.  Twelve, though...it wasn’t even what was said, entirely.  It was the person that said it.  The looks Iris gave.  Her body language...the way she moved was just so...Evangeline couldn’t finish the sentence, even in her own mind.  It flustered her.  Threw her off balance.  Eva buried her face in her hands, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart, to find words...something she could say to save even a small amount of face. “T-twelve...Iris...m-must you ask such personal questions…” she stuttered from behind a wall of her own fingers, pulling herself under control at last.  She grasped at Arsene’s arm, pleading to him. “The bath...please...if you don’t mind.”  As she turned to leave the room, though, something occurred to her.  The words escaped her mouth without her realizing, vocalizing her thoughts before she could stop them. “You should know t-the answer anyways…” She clapped a hand over her mouth, unable to stop the sentence before it burst from between her teeth, a dam collapsing in the face of a raging river.  Blushing furiously, her hand still covering her mouth, she stepped from the room, the entirety of her willpower focused on stopping herself from thoughtlessly fleeing, hoping to all twelve gods that Arsene wouldn't share this with her new potential employer. “Red like tha flames of dat burnin’ church bench!! And twice as sinful...” Iris broke into a flagrant laugh, as the blushing viera was guided out of the kitchen. Her laugh would still echo on the hallway, as the old elezen walked the redhead towards the large bathrooms. As the water in the pot started to boil, Iris added in several spoonfulls of freshly grinded coffee, soon moving the pot off the flames. The delicious scent of fresh coffee filled the kitchen, fading away what was left of the pungent cigarette smoke. A slight, impish smile lingered on viera’s lips, as she poured herself a cup. Everything was going according to the plan. For now at least. Just a couple more pulls and the hook would pierce deep into Eva’s heart. Deep in the maze of webs Iris had so lovingly weaved. Did she actually feel bad for the girl though? Everyone who ever stepped into this cursed building got their life ruined.. their whole being rotting from inside out... This place slowly ate away your soul. Varg’s... her own... the only one seeminly unaffected of the curse was the old Elezen... but maybe the man was more of a servant to the curse, than an actual victim. Taking a sip, Iris disgarded the thought. How was it her problem in the first place? She had never brought Evangeline into this place. The woman had walked here with her own two feet. Blindfolded, like a lamb to the slaughter... It was not Iris’ problem, if the woman was to turn into yet another victim of the Blacksoul manor. Or was it?

A while later, Arsene returned into the kitchen. On one hand he was carrying a slim paper package, from the grease stains on the paper one could imagine the package contained the meat Iris was after, for her breakfast that is. On the other hand he held a fine clay jar, filled with goat cheese mixed with herbs. Without as much as saying a word, Arsene walked through thekitchen, and placed the requested ingredients onto the table next to Iris. The old Elezen took a deep breath through his nose, his eyes closed. The scent of smoke from the firewood, and the steam from the fried eggs had well enough covered the stench of cigarette in the kitchen. Arsene opened his eyes, andmoved his gaze to the open window, then reaching his hand to close it once again. Arsene looked at Iris' direction, a gentle, yet in a way melancholic smile on his lips. Arsene turned around, to softly lean against the table on which he had placed the cheese and meat,still holding his gaze nailed at the Viera. Giving a quick side-glance towards old elezen, Iris threw some meat onto the pan, which soon started to hiss like an elderly snake. The bacon did not take long to finish on the already hot pan. When it had gained some crisp, pale viera poured it on top of the pagel, to make company for scrambled eggs, finishing the whole thing with a huge spoonful of goat cheese. “The heck is takin’ so long..? We should get movin’, for fock’s sake..”, she muttered to herself, giving a glance towards the old clock, standing in the corner of a kitchen. She was sure the clock itself had been here long before Varg arrived to Ishgard... or so it looked like.With a sigh, Iris picked up the plate, rolling fork and knife into a napkin, and was about to head to the bathroom, as her eyes catched the look on Arsene’s face. “Uhhhh... Im... Ya know... Im heckin’ sorry for the mess... Aniway, Im just gonna.. make sure tha damn damsel in distress has not drowned ‘erself into tha tub or anythin’...” She made her way to the doorway, and before stepping into the corridor, she gave one last glance towards the elezen, a slight smile lingering in her black lips. “...Thanks, Granpa.” And with that, Iris disappeared from the doorway, heading towards the bathroom.