#idk when you can expect those though. today or tomorrow probably since all of these are just sketches lol

[summerroseart]

More Final Space AU!!

A few character dynamics/roles, and ...less angsty than the last one :')

Can you tell I rewatched a few episodes

[cryptidsurveys]

Tuesday, July 16th, 2024.

How have you been doing? I'm a little worn out from volunteering, but otherwise, I've been doing well. Cassie was telling me that I need to stay for a full day sometime, that way I can understand what they mean about the nonsense that goes on in the evenings. Basically, over the past few months, the time they actually get off work has been pushed farther and farther back. They're supposed to get off at 5pm, but Alex said the other day that she didn't get off until 6pm (and she already comes in ~30 minutes early). There also seems to be some growing animosity/resentment between the dog & cat people. Dog people are allegedly the hold-up. I'm not sure what changed, but it wasn't like this last summer. Cattery is usually finished early, often expected to help with the dog stuff; but when they ask for the final check to be done so they can go home, they're typically left for last.

I feel like that's eventually what will drive Cassie to quit. She had somewhere she had to be last night and they dragged things out until she was like, Yeah, I need to leave. She said it was "fine" in that situation; but in the future, when she has cheer practice, she's not going to be able to wait around for them because cheer won't take work as an excuse for being late. Also, I was told that Lucy might be looking for another job. Lucy told Cassie she wasn't going to quit until she found one, but after her absence last weekend, she might have just decided to go for it.

I know I'm essentially backseat managing here, lmao, but they really need to get ahead of this turnover issue. Since I started volunteering again last summer, they've lost something like 15 employees.

Anything you're looking forward to? Hopefully going for a picnic at the Mountain Park tomorrow. I haven't been there since last autumn, which is way too long. There's a certain rock in a certain stream that I just need to lie down on for a while.

Do you or anyone you know play the violin? No.

Do you have a nice view out of the closest window? It's just a view of some houses. And today, some construction. They're doing idk what on the corner diagonal from us.

What is one of your favorite breakup songs? I don't think I'm really a fan of any breakup songs.

Do you know anyone named Georgia or George? No.

What age did you learn how to ride a bike? Without training wheels? I think I was around 6 years old.

Are you currently listening to music or watching TV? I'm not. Sometimes I will listen to music while taking surveys, but it just feels like a bit much atm.

What is your morning routine? On volunteer days: depending on the day, get up somewhere between 5:15-5:45am. I'm usually awake a bit before that, though, so I just lie in bed and listen to something on YouTube. Shower, get dressed, brush my teeth, eat breakfast, gather the remainder of my things, talk with my dad for a bit. Then, depending on the day, leave somewhere between 6:20-6:45am.

On Wednesday: wake up, brush my teeth, make myself presentable, go grocery shopping, then come home and eat breakfast.

On Saturday: wake up whenever I feel like it, make breakfast, clean my bedroom, and make some art.

Are you someone who gets easily agitated by hearing someone chewing? No. It doesn't tend to bother me.

What was the last text you sent? It was a text to my mom. We might be going to see Despicable Me 4 on Saturday, and I was like, "I'll finally find out what all those little yellow minions are about."

What did you last have to eat? Some mixed veggies with sriracha sauce and a cheese and jalapeno sandwich.

What's your favorite kind of oatmeal/porridge? If we're talking about the flavored pouches, then probably brown sugar, birthday cake, strawberry, or peach. However, I typically use plain oatmeal as my base and use fruit, peanut butter, etc, to flavor it from there.

Have you ever ate a whole pizza in one sitting? I don't think so…maybe a half, though…? In elemntary school, we used to have pizza days on Friday (was it weekly? monthly? I can't recall); if you didn't "flip a card" (their disciplinary system), then you could pay some small $ amount that I no longer recall and get a half/full pizza, a cookie, and drinks.

What are some things you are grateful for? Volunteering. Even with all the drama, I can't imagine giving it up. I feel like it's a good exercise in detachment (not that I'm so detached, lmao; I'm obviously here dishing the constant tea). Like, if you ever just want to be an observer without any real expectations or responsibility for the system as a whole, go volunteer somewhere. It's an interesting experience… It's helping me learn to step back, stop trying to control everything, and just sort of let everything play out the way it will. It's not that I've given up all autonomy to the flow, but seriously, sometimes it helps to really see just how little of this teeming, chaotic world has anything to do with me. Thought I was going to make a difference; instead, found out what a cosmic speck I am. Maybe not what I wanted, but definitely what I needed. Still a speck, but now a free speck.

What's the last thing you done while outside? Drive, I guess.

How often do you do laundry? Every few days. It just depends on how quickly it piles up.

Have you already had your birthday this year? Yes, back in March. Which feels like forever ago. June 1st feels like it was last week, but March feels like it was last year.

Last thing you done before this survey? Vacuum the living room and dining room.

Do you like sleeping with multiple pillows? I have multiple pillows on my bed, but I only sleep with one.

How many candles do you have in your bedroom? A couple.

What emojis have you used the most here recently? D; and :')

What color is your favorite shirt? I don't have a favorite shirt, but my favorite hoodie is black.

Do you currently smell food cooking? No. Oh, but at the shelter earlier, I walked out of cattery to go to the bathroom and it smelled like someone was cooking hot dogs with ketchup or something. Come to find out it was ant killer. What a wild smell for such a thing…like luring them to a picnic or something…

If you were given $1,000 to spend at one store. What's your store of choice? Walmart (groceries).

How much sugar do you consume on a daily basis? Idk.

Do you have any ice cream in your freezer? Yeah. Well, it's custard, but same basic deal. It's from Culver's. Strawberry cheesecake and mint choco-chip.

What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word "chaos"? Chaos theory, chaos magicians…etc.

Do you own anything that has an animated character on it? Somewhere.

Have you used a microwave today? Yeah.

What's the last book you read? Still in the midst of the third Dune book. I haven't picked it up in a while, though. I just haven't felt much like reading lately.

What's something that always makes you cringe? Idk.

What's a word or phrase you say a lot? My toxic trait is that I'm blind to my own annoying catchphrases.

What's something that always makes you emotional? Music. Not always in a good/cathartic way. Sometimes in an overwhelming/spiraling way.

How many times have you changed clothes today? Twice. From pajamas to volunteer clothes and back to pajamas.

What's on your mind currently? Just how busy this next week-ish feels. I hope I don't get a migraine…

In what ways have you changed over the past year? So many ways.

Do you really care about others opinions of you? Ehhhhh. Much less than I used to, but still to some extent.

What's your favorite pasta? Spirals, bowties, macaroni elbows.

Do you currently see anything yellow? Some watercolor flowers I painted.

What did you last try to do and failed? Not sure.

Does your bathroom have a certain theme or color scheme? Not really.

If you have Netflix or any streaming service.. what's your favorite shows to stream? N/a.

Are you currently wearing anything red? No.

What was the last thing that caught your eye while shopping? I'm not sure.

What's a social media site you have no interest in? Twitter, Facebook, Tik Tok…I don't even know what's out there these days because I don't keep up.

Have you ever tripped and fallen in a public place? Yeah.

When did you last buy a dairy product? Last Wednesday.

What's the last song you sang out loud? I'm not sure.

[omiscurls]

Heyhey! I couldn’t find your rules, so idk if this is allowed or not, and if it isn’t feel free to ignore this, but may I request Childe with a reader who has depression? Thank you

tough

a/n: hi!! sorry for that, the rules are added by now, i chose not to describe depression itself, because it looks different on everyone, and you may not relate to what applies to me, but i'm hoping you'll find this enjoyable instead!!

plot: character helping the reader out of a breakdown, or a bad headspace

contains: tartaglia, kaeya

warnings: bad copying mechanisms, low mental place, nothing too serious mentioned

tartaglia

now, he's a man of action less than words, even though he's good with those, too

and to add to that, he's also a very perceptive person - if some negative vibe lingers on you for too long, he'll notice right away

however, relying on his experience, he opts to give you space to figure it out on your own, first, he wouldn't like to be making a huge deal of something that was just a worse couple of days

it's when you don't show up at your usual dinner spot, that he gets a little tingle in his brain, telling him to not dismiss it this time.

and so, he makes his way over to your place.

"ya there?" you hear on the other side of the door, followed by urgent knocking, sort of breaking you out of a trance, but you can't find it in you to go and answer it. he'll go away, you think, even better. your apartment is messy, you're messy, too, and it's not the right time to be receiving visitors. so you stay quiet.

"you do know i know you're in there, right?" he speaks up again "the blinds would be down if you weren't"

come in, you want to shout, and although no voice leaves your throat, soon the door opens anyway.

"hey, what's up, you weren't on the- oh." he stops in his tracks in the middle of the corridor, and you're already mentally prepared to a snarky remark about your sorroundings, but the only thing he says is a lighthearted "why're you sitting on the floor?"

the first thing he thinks about is to level with you, so he plops himself down right beside you, and you bet it looks funny - you in yesterday's clothes, in a big, probably smelly, mess, and then a harbinger in full military outfit right beside you.

"i-" you try to say, but your throat seems too dry and worn out, so you opt for a whisper "look at his place"

he indeed does, hinting the small note of desperation in your voice.

"what about it?"

"it's a mess!" you sigh, covering your face with your hands, out of both embarrassment, and fatigue. you take a big breath before continuing "so i wanted to clean it up, i even brought all the... all the things, but it's so much stuff to do, and i'm tired, and- and i don't know!" you choose to stop as not to snap right then and there. "i can't even do my shitty chores right like an adult" you mumble, massaging your temples.

"and is sitting on the floor helping?" he simply asks, and for a second, you're almost mad at him for not being more... cooey and fuss over you a bit more. he sounds cold.

"what are you-"

"really, is it helping?" he repeats "because from how i see it, every little thing would seem bigger if you looked at it from this angle. come on" he nudges you before standing up, and offering a hand to lift you up. you, however, shake your head.

"i really can't deal with it today, childe, i'm sorry"

"just stand up" he pleas, and the second you take his hand, he helps you up in less than a second. when you're on his level again, he sneaks both his arms on the sides of your waist, and sort of sways around a little, before speaking again. "what if, what if we do it little by little? look, we'll start over there" he puts his hand on top of yours, and lifts your arm to point to the full sink along with his. "and that'd be it for today! and then tomorrow... actually, let's not make plans. we'll just pick something tomorrow, and do it then. does the sink sound like a lot to do?" he asks.

"do you want me to be honest, or do you want me to say no" you mutter, earning the heartiest and brightest laughter you've heard in days from him.

"always honest. but come on, i'll help." he rolls you out of his embrace, causing you to feel a sudden wave of cold, it was comfortable back there, you think.

however, as he works through the dishes with you, the pile does seem to lessen, and doesn't rule over your kitchen anymore. every time he hands you a plate to dry, he smiles as wide as he can, and it doesn't seem to bother him at all when you don't smile back.

"remember" he starts again, after a while of comfortable silence. he looks ridiculous, doing the kitchen duties in an outfit designed mostly to look presentable and slay enemies in it, but the look on his face is dead set. "the first lesson you've gotta learn before going off to battle something, is that the best defense is always, always to fight back. and if you don't think you can manage that, well, that's why nobody ever battles alone. it's common sense to have someone watching your back. and as for you, not only are you a great warrior yourself, but you've also got the best second-in-command willing to help you out. don't forget that."

kaeya

as for him, he's also perceptive and empathic, but the difference between him and tartaglia is that he does believe people have the right to figure some things out on their own, he's a firm believer in the magic of secrets

that's probably because he himself doesn't like to share too much about his deeply personal feelings

so he'd obviously see some wave of difficult emotions coming your way, but would he immediately start worrying? probably not

the guy doesn't have healthy copying mechanisms himself, don't think he expects those of others

every other night the two of you meet up at the tavern, kaeya always ordering wine, you asking the bartender for whatever was in store today, but it's never anything alcoholic.

and just like nearly always, you're seated at angel's share, him noticing you're not particularly in the mood for talking, and choosing to entertain you with as many stories of the day that went by as he can remember.

the waiter interrupts him, asking if your minds are already made up regarding the drink. now, kaeya always has you picking first, but since he sees you're still analyzing the card (as if you expected to find anything new), he goes first with a drink he knows charles makes really strong.

to his surprise, when it comes to you, you just mumble "i'll have the same he had"

before the waiter has a chance of writing that down, kaeya tells him that actually, you're gonna need a minute or two more, and to erase the order you've both put in.

as he walks away, the calvary captain's eyes pierce through yours.

"that's a pretty nasty drink you wanted there" he starts, feeling he can't let you handle your mess this time, preparing to dig a little deeper into what's on your mind.

you shrug your shoulders.

"hey" he speaks up a little firmer, hand moving to cover yours, and even though they twitch as to retreat from his grip, you let it be. "tell me what's up."

"nothing's <up>" you accentuate. "can't i even have a drink now?"

"obviously you can" he nods "as long as i know you're trying it just for the taste, and not for the strong kick it's gonna offer, cause that's a dangerous path that only leads to nasty places." concern shines through his gaze, and an encouraging smile is wandering somewhere in his expression, however his lips are still pressed into a tight line, the same he forms when he's either fighting or arguing.

you stay silent for a good long while, before sighing.

"maybe i want the kick. good, or bad, maybe i want to feel... something."

the sentence sounds all too familiar, as he shakes his head and takes your hand, leading you towards the exit.

"what're you-"

"you're obviously not in the right state to be in a bar, of all places" he states almost coldly "so i'm getting you somewhere safer."

the two of you leave the bar, and walk out into the cold of mondstadt's street, covered in the darkness of the night. you walk past him, not leveling up to him, just tagging along to whatever he's going.

it comes as a surprise, that you're neither headed for your apartment, nor his, nor the knights' headquarters. he's guiding you in an unknown direction, until you reach a dead end.

he clims up a small building, offering you a hand and shaking off your confused expressions and questions. "you'll see" he says. the two of you walk from roof to roof, and countless times you tell him it's ridiculous, but then, he jumps onto the city's wall, helping you out with two hands this time, sitting you down right next to him on the stone surface of the wall. it's a little wet from the night's humidity, and cold, and probably dirty too, but the moon shines right at you, and from this perspective, you see thousands of lights in houses, taverns and shops, from the bottom up to the cathedral.

going up from that, a calm and peaceful lake paints the landscape blue on the left, and even from up here, you see a sea of lampgrasses shining through the leaves of wolvendom forest. if you squint, lights are still on in dawn winery, and the path to liyue and all the other lands swirls around near diluc's house. there's so much you can see, even if the night limits your vision.

"i like to come here when i need to gain some perspective over what is happening in my life right now" kaeya speaks really softly and quietly, bordering on a whisper. "it's a beautiful view, even someone as insensitive to art as i am can see that, but other than that... it's huge. and even though it is, it's also alive. every single one of those beings whose lights are dying out as they slowly go to sleep one by one, they're alive. they're not a scenery, they're their own, individual worlds. and they all coexist with each other in such a clever manner, don't you think? they have their differences, they might even hate each other, or wish the worst upon the other's name, but from up here? they fit together like puzzles of one, big picture."

"that's a nice way to put it, for sure" you whisper, looking down onto your knees. his finger pushes your chin slightly to make you face him, and he smiles at you gently, thumb brushing against the skin of your cheek.

"you know, we each have our own worlds, built from scratch from such fragile materials. we have our worlds rise, shine, and crumble before our sights. we look over the ruins of them and think, this is the end of the world. there's nothing more, it's all dust now. but from up here, you see how many other worlds there are - everyone has their own. not everything that is happening in your world is true. you see it from first person's perspective, and therefore the view might be disturbed by many different aspects. you might not see the picture, you just see the broken puzzle fragment that can't fit with the rest, and you're ready to throw away the entire picture, without finishing it. but being here, it reminds me... the world doesn't end on the ruins you see. you can always ask someone to help you build them up again, and of course, you can expect it to fall into pieces once more, but this time, you'll keep in mind, there're-" he stopped, pointing to the city's lights. "so many people to help you raise it up to the clouds."

"your metaphor is really complex" you chuckle, but his face stays still.

"it's not the end of the world if your puzzle piece is broken. and the ruins are not unfixable if you feel too tired to build them up all by yourself. if anything, that's a start." his hand travels up to keep the hair from getting on your face, since the wind blows pretty hard on this height. "what do you say we start your puzzle once more, toghether?"

-

your friendly reminder that you can request things [here]

[cooliogirl101]

If Sayuri was transported to Bleach canon alone (assuming the same premise of the lightning mist au, where Sousuke is dead so she doesn’t seek to find a way back), what would she do?

Well in the lightning mist AU, she basically went into a deep, deep depression and didn’t come out of it until she found Sakumo and Kakashi. I don’t think she would bother seeking out canon!Aizen-- she wouldn’t be able to bear having him look at her without any of the warmth, love, and recognition her Sousuke looked at her with. She’d wander the world lost, grieving, not wanting to live but not having the energy to die either. 

Ichigo first meets the woman in white when he is nine years old. He sees her standing by the river as he’s walking to karate practice, staring blankly into the distance. 

She’s not the first person Ichigo’s found wandering around Karakura Town looking a little lost. The others, they’d mainly looked confused, unsure of who they were or what they were supposed to be doing. This one, though...this one just looked sad. 

“Hey!” He calls out. She doesn’t respond and so he runs up to her. “Hey, are you alright? Do you need help?”

Close up, Ichigo can’t help but notice that the woman looks...really, really thin. He swallows, looking up at her sunken eyes, the dark bruise-like shadows underlining them, her hollowed-out cheeks...

“Are-- are you hungry?” He asks the stranger hesitantly. “Do you want to come home with me? Mom would be okay with it, she loves having guests over! And she’s a really good cook, everyone says so. You should come! I think we’re having curry tonight.”

Her eyes flicker down towards him, gaze sharpening for the briefest moment as she takes in his face. Then she turns away, walking off. Ichigo watches her go, expression thoughtful. When he gets home that night, he makes sure to sneak some extra snacks into his backpack for tomorrow.

Ichigo seeks out the woman in white every day for the next three weeks. It isn’t always easy to find her but something about the water seems to calm her, and so more often than not Ichigo can find her standing by the river. He still hasn’t managed to convince her to take any food but on the bright side, she seems to be tolerating his presence more. She hasn’t walked away from him since that first day and although she still hasn’t spoken, she’s starting to listen more-- her focus on him rather than the water’s depths. 

One day in mid-June, it starts raining really hard and so Ichigo sneaks an extra umbrella into his backpack in addition to the multitude of untouched snacks. He doesn’t get a chance to look for her after school-- the rain had started really coming down and Isshin had showed up to take him straight to karate-- and so once karate practice ends, he hardly even waits for Masaki before sprinting out the door.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” Masaki laughs, chasing after him. “What’s the rush?”

“I’m looking for a friend,” Ichigo replies, scanning the riverside for a hint of white. “She’s got brown hair and she always wears white. Do you see her?”

Masaki pauses, pulling Ichigo under her umbrella. 

“I don’t think so,” she says after a moment, peering into the rain. “With it raining this much, your friend is probably inside, Ichigo.”

“Maybe,” Ichigo says dubiously, cupping his eyes with his hands in an attempt to see better. Masaki looks at him, a fond smile on her lips.

“Tell you what. We’ll come back and look for her together tomorrow, okay?” She says warmly. “For now though, let’s go home. I don’t want you to get a cold.”

“Fine,” Ichigo says begrudgingly. “But tomorrow, I definitely wanna-- wait, I think I see her!” Before Masaki can stop him, he runs towards the faint figure he sees in the distance, where the rising water is especially turbulent. 

As he gets closer, he can tell that the figure isn’t the woman in white-- instead it’s a kid, a little girl probably around Yuzu and Karin’s age. She’s crying, clutching onto a stuffed bear, eyes swollen shut with tears.  

“Hey,” Ichigo says softly, so as not to scare her. Behind him, Ichigo can hear Masaki shouting his name. “Hey, are you alright? Do you need help?”

At the sound of his voice, the girl stops crying for a moment. She blinks, looking up at him with large, teary eyes. 

“The water is especially high today,” she whispers, so quietly Ichigo can barely hear her. She smiles, squeezing her teddy bear with both arms. “I love to swim. Will you swim with me, nii-san?”

The girl turns back towards the river, bending her legs as if preparing to jump. His heart leaping into his throat, Ichigo lunges towards her with one arm outstretched. 

“Don’t--!”

He never makes it. Instead, he feels a pair of arms encircle him from behind, pulling him into a secure embrace.

“Look away, Ichigo-kun,” an unfamiliar voice murmurs, even as a strange tiredness spreads through his entire body, causing his eyelids to droop. “This is not for you to see.” 

The last thing Ichigo hears before his vision goes dark is a sickening squelch, not unlike the sound of a butcher knife slicing through a fresh cut of meat. 

~~

“Forgive me, I don’t think I introduced myself last night.” Sayuri opens her eyes to find the same red-haired woman from last night in front of her, a kind smile on her face. “I’m Kurosaki Masaki, Ichigo’s mother.” 

“...Sayuri,” Sayuri answers, after a sluggish pause. She blinks, gathering her thoughts-- she remembers the weight of Ichigo’s body in her arms, handing him over to his frantic mother, the scent of blood in the rain. “How...how is he doing?” 

She has a general idea of Ichigo’s wellbeing-- his spiritual energy is bright enough to sense clear across town, even at this age-- but it’s always better to confirm. 

“Asking for you,” Masaki replies, her lips quirking up. “It was all I could do to keep him from following me here-- but then, I wanted to speak with you first.”

Her smile fades, expression sobering.

“You know, I spent hours rehearsing what I was going to say to you this morning?” Masaki asks. “I don’t even know where to start. You saved my son’s life.” She exhales shakily. “I mean, how do I even begin to thank you for something like that?”

There’s another pause before Sayuri figures out she’s expecting an answer. She rewinds the last minute of their conversation and comes up blank.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” She asks after a moment. Masaki’s expression softens. 

“I said, I would very much like to thank you,” she says gently. 

“Oh.” Sayuri thinks about that for a moment. There was a time where she would have held on to the favor. It’s what Sousuke would have done, collecting debts and loyalties until-- 

She shakes her head.

“That’s not necessary.”

It isn’t like those debts had done much good in the end, anyway.

“Then at the very least, come over for lunch,” Masaki implores. “Allow me to do that much. Please.”

Sayuri closes her eyes for a brief moment, focusing on the other woman’s spiritual energy. Even that is a struggle, and the fact that she has to think about it at all...there was a time when she would have scanned it automatically, when the act would have come as naturally as breathing to her.

But then, it is so very hard to concentrate these days.

“I can’t eat,” she says finally, a statement that should have seemed obvious to her in retrospect.

“You leave that to me,” Masaki says, eyes warm. “I’ll figure something out. All I need is for you to come with me.” She extends her hand to Sayuri. “Shall we?”

There was a time when Sayuri would have analyzed every possible meaning and connotation behind such a gesture before accepting. Now, though...now it’s difficult to think, hurts to remember, and Sayuri is oh so tired. 

And well, it was just lunch. What could it hurt?

(What could possibly cause her more pain at this point?)

She reaches up and takes Masaki’s hand. 

~~

Sayuri, six months later, wearing a Kurosaki family sweater, sitting on the bleachers squished between Masaki and Yuzu at one of Karin’s soccer matches: ...I feel like I’ve been tricked, somehow

(idk I just like the thought of Sayuri getting aggressively adopted into the Kurosaki family. No, she did not have any say in the matter)

[eberles]

On The Course

Rafe Cameron

if this gif is yours, lmk and i’ll tag you!

A/N: this is the longest thing i’ve ever written coming in at 3.8K!! it’s set the summer AFTER the show so like a year later basically and rafe isn’t a murderer obv, it’s also loosely based on A Cinderella Story - the one with Hilary Duff, okay enjoy :)

Warnings: mentions of parent death, brief mention of toxic living environments, swearing, lots of dialogue (idk if that needs a warning but)

You never had many friends growing up, or any really. Except JJ, he was always there for you, your very best friend and even though he offered all the time for you to hangout with the other pogues, you always declined. Of course, you went to school with them and had classes together and sure they were nice, but you never actually felt welcome. JJ was the first friend you made when you moved to the Outer Banks after your parents died. It’s been 4 years since then and living with your ugly aunt and her horrible twin daughters was the last thing you ever wanted for yourself. The only upside of moving to Outer Banks all those years ago was meeting JJ.

Everyone assumed you were dating and both of you had considered the fact, but quickly decided that it wasn’t meant to be for the two of you. JJ liked to be a playboy and he wasn’t really your type anyways. for years you watched him get with girl after girl while you sat idly by watching and looking out for him, never having a guy of your own to trot around with. You never minded it though, being by yourself gave you a sense of comfort and with your current living situations, your cousins made it difficult for you to have many friends or otherwise anyways. JJ always made you feel better about it though and assured you that you didn’t need a man to be happy because of how independent you were and how ‘one day you’re gonna get out of here and meet the guy of dreams, the one that lives up to your standards.” You would always shake your head and roll your eyes at him when he said that, but he believed it. At least the getting out of here part. JJ knew from the moment he met you 4 years ago that you weren’t destined to be on a little island like Outer Banks and you had bigger things coming to you. For now, this was home and you were making the best of it.

“JJ, please talk to your boss. I need a job, I have to get out of my house this summer.” you begged JJ one sunny afternoon, knowing that school was ending in a few days.

“Y/N, you’re gonna hate it. Trust me, you don’t wanna serve a bunch of rich pricks.” JJ sighed, looking over at you briefly and noticing you had your best puppy dog look plastered onto your face, the one you always knew got him to cave. “Fucking fine, i’ll talk to him.”

A few days passed and you were finally done with school. This was your last summer before heading off to college and as much as you didn’t want to spend it working, you knew your aunt had no intention of giving you any money for college. So here you were, serving your first day as a cart girl at the most prestigious country club on Figure 8. The course was fairly slow today and you had a small training session for the first few hours of your shift, but it wasn’t all that hard. Drive around, serve drinks, get tipped. As you were riding around on your little golf cart you noticed none other than Rafe Cameron flagging you down.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” you refrained from immediately rolling your eyes at him and forcing a smile onto your face as you climbed out of your cart.

“I’ll just get a beer, thanks.” he pointed to his beer of choice and watched as you poured the beverage slowly into the plastic cup. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“That’s because I just started.” you stated pointedly, handing Rafe the drink and giving him a small smile. “Can i get you anything else?”

“Do you know how to golf?” Rafe was speaking before he could stop himself and you were taken aback by his question, let alone his politeness towards you. You’d never actually come in contact with the boy in front of you, but you’d heard horror stories from JJ surrounding the summer before. You shook your head no, not moving back to your cart just yet curious to where this was heading. “Do you wanna give it a shot? I can teach you.”

You knew you shouldn’t, JJ would scold you up and down for it, after previously warning you Rafe was an often golfer and that you’d probably see him quite a bit, but this wasn’t the Rafe you were expecting. Not after JJ’s multiple stories of Rafe beating him and the other pogues up and constantly giving them a hard time. However, you couldn’t stop yourself from agreeing to Rafe’s offer. Moving closer to him and grabbing the club from him you did exactly what you’d seen in the movies: knees spread, club down, aimed at the small golf ball and raising your arms back only for them to swing the club right into the dirt.

“Damn, you weren’t lying.” Rafe chuckled, taking a spot behind you making sure it was okay that he helped you first. Rafe was a good 6 inches taller than you, but when he came up you could still feel his breath hitting your ear causing your heart to beat out of your chest and goosebumps to erupt all over. He wrapped his arms around yours, placing his hands over yours adjusting your grip on the club. “Ready? One...two...three.”

“Oh- oh my god! I did it! Well you did it, but I did it!” you turned around in Rafe’s grasp jumping up excitedly after watching the ball move this time. Before Rafe could react, realization hit you that you were at work and not making a very good first impression. “I have to go, I'm sorry.”

You ran back towards your golf cart, jumping in and driving off checking in on the other golfers. Rafe had a big smile on his face watching the cute new girl drive off. He felt a sense of home building in his chest after your small interaction and he wasn’t sure what was going on. No girl had ever affected him the way you did and he didn’t even know your name. Yet.

“Dude, what’s got you blushing?” Topper asked, joining him on the course and snapping Rafe out of his thoughts about you.

“Have you seen the new cart girl?”

“Yea she’s cute but she’s a pogue.” Topper stated and Rafe looked at him skeptically not wanting to believe the words. Rafe was almost positive he’d never seen you around before and definitely not with the other pogues. Granted, the way everything happened last summer he never saw the pogues anymore, choosing the high road and turning himself into a better man so he could eventually leave Figure 8 on his own.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Y/N!” you turned around hearing JJ calling your name. You just entered the cut after having to walk home from your first shift at the country club. “I’ve been texting you for hours.”

“Oh sorry JJ, my shitty phone died.” you shrugged letting JJ catch up with you before continuing your walk home.

“How was your first day?” you knew JJ would ask, but you hadn’t quite figured out what you were planning on telling him. Do you bring up your weird but pleasant interaction with Rafe?

“It was good! It was a pretty slow day, perfect for learning.” JJ hummed in response, looking at you quizzically not fully believing you didn’t have anything more to say. You decided to keep it short, not looking forward to JJ mocking your newfound connection with his enemy. You felt bad enough about it without having him breathing down your neck. JJ walked you home, the two of you making small talk for the rest of the short distance to your house.

“Charge your phone, how else will I annoy you?” you rolled eyes, laughing at what JJ said, pushing on his chest.

“Goodbye JJ, Y/N has things to do.” your aunt spoke, catching you off guard as you were saying bye to JJ outside your house. JJ gave you a sympathetic look before walking off, never wanting to leave you alone with them. “Y/N, I’m going out of town tomorrow. I’ll be leaving you this list to work on while I'm gone. I expect everything to be finished. You will go to work, come home and work some more. Zero play time and in the house everyday by 6 pm, missy.”

“Okay but there’s this one event the country club is having and it’s a night shift for me.” you followed your aunt around the small house, hoping she would let you out of the house for Midsummers knowing the tips would be great.

“Well that’s not going to work, now is it?” she huffed, shoving the 7 page list into your hands and storming off, her heels clicking with every step. “One page for everyday, don’t miss anything.”

The next day your aunt left just like she planned to, her twin daughters staying behind to ‘keep an eye on you’ but really, they were just going to annoy you the whole time. The only thing you could really look forward to anymore was going to work and hoping the customers were nicer than your cousins.

“Y/N, we’re coming with you today!” the twins spoke at the same time with fake chipper voices.

“Great.” you deadpanned, turning away from them and making your way towards their shared car and climbing in the back seat. The drive was short and they talked the whole way there so you practically jumped out before the car stopped moving noticing your arrival. You were feeling giddy to be at work today secretly hoping you would see a certain kook boy again. You didn’t know much about him, only the awful things JJ had spoken about him briefly but didn’t see that side of him only enticing you to know more.

After a few hours driving around the course serving drinks to mostly middle aged white men you finally noticed Rafe with a few of his friends. You wanted to talk to him again, but having his friends around made you unsure about the situation so you decided to play it cool.

“Did you guys want drinks?” you stopped on the path behind them before getting off the cart and making your way to them.

“Rafe, is this your cute cart girl from yesterday?” Topper laughed, hitting Rafe’s back pushing him towards you and you noticed a blushing Rafe shoot a quick glare in his direction.

“Hey, how’s your second day going?” Rafe moved closer to you and the cart hoping to get out of ear shot from Topper and Kelce.

“It’s been good, lots of older men come around here I’ve noticed.” you laughed handing Rafe the same drink as yesterday since you remembered the specific beer he wanted. “It makes for good tips though so I can't complain.”

“Yea these guys might be old but they’re rich as fuck.” Rafe sipped his beer, smiling at you and apologizing for his friends being stupid behind him. “Hey so I never got your name-”

“Hey Y/N!” you turned, hearing your name being called and saw JJ running towards you. You mentally cursed because of course this was the one time he would ever step foot on the course to look for you. Rafe looked at you confused even though Topper previously told him you were technically a pogue yourself. “Y/N, your cousins are inside and they’re driving me crazy. I needed a break. What’s going on here?”

“Oh JJ, I’m sorry about them, they insisted on being here for my whole shift.” you ignored JJ’s last question, putting all the attention on your cousins, hoping it would deflect from you and Rafe chatting.

“You okay?” JJ asked in a hushed tone, glaring at Rafe and you laughed nodding your head yes. “Okay I guess I’ll go back inside then. Be careful.”

“So your name’s Y/N?” Rafe stood back a few feet while you had your short conversation with JJ and returned to your side once JJ started walking away. “I’m assuming since you know Maybank that you already know who I am.”

“Well I know of you, but if we keep meeting like this maybe i’ll be able to find out more.” you were feeling brave all of a sudden, hoping putting yourself out there would get your somewhere with Rafe. Everything felt natural with him, and you didn’t want to let that feeling escape you by ruining it.

“Why don’t you give me your number and then it won’t have to be exclusive to only here?” Rafe smirked, pulling his phone out and placing it in your hands. You laughed, typing your phone number in quickly and returning it back to him.

“I should really get back to work, Rafe but I’ll see you around yea?” you climbed back into your golf cart as Rafe smiled and waved bye to you.

The next few days passed and you hadn’t seen Rafe at the club, but you had been texting quite a bit. Just in a few days of talking you felt like you were already learning so much about him and his life. He told you everything from who his friends are to how overbearing and controlling his father was. He explained that he went to college at Chapel Hill for a year before dropping out and his father never forgave him. You shared your deepest feelings with him about your parents deaths and how your aunt and cousins were Satan's children. You told him you couldn’t wait to get out of Outer Banks and go off to college at the end of the summer. He understood you and you meshed together so well just after a few days.

i haven’t told my dad, but after getting my shit together this past year i started applying to schools. my first choice is princeton.

princeton?! rafe, no way! that’s where i’m hoping to go.

You couldn’t deny the fast connection you felt with rafe, everything in your body was telling you that you belonged together. Rafe told you he was looking forward to seeing you at the Midsummers event tonight, but you had to break the devastating news that there was no way you could go.

curfew is 6 pm cameron, get with it😂

jesus, i’m sorry i didn’t know you were 7

You laughed at the text on your phone when a tapping noise on your window startled you. You dragged yourself out of bed to see JJ standing on the ground below you.

“JJ, what are you doing?!” you whispered after opening the window and sticking your head out.

“I'm coming up!” JJ whispered back, scaling the side of your house next to your bedroom window. Lucky for him there was a small rock wall giving him the perfect entrance. “I'm breaking you out, you’re coming to Midsummers.”

“JJ, I can't! They’ll kill me if I leave!” JJ gave you a look as if to say ‘stop being a baby.’ It only took a few more seconds of convincing from JJ for you to agree. He successfully helped you out your window and down the rock wall without your cousins noticing you had left for the night. JJ borrowed John B's van and left it parked a few houses down so the twins wouldn’t be suspicious.

“Thanks for this, JJ. You’re the best.” you smiled wide, feeling free for the first time in a while. It was nice getting out of the house while it was dark out.

“As much as I want to take credit, I can’t. This was Rafe’s idea.” you looked at JJ with wide eyes, completely caught off guard.

“What?!” you all but screamed, not sure why JJ would ever talk to Rafe about you. Especially since you hadn’t even told JJ that you and Rafe were talking almost constantly.

“I’ll try to forgive you for not mentioning your budding relationship, but yea. Rafe came to me and apologized for everything last summer and although I don’t forgive him. He does talk pretty highly about you and I can't deny that.” JJ explained and you couldn’t have been more proud to call him your best friend in these moments.

Once you arrived, JJ snuck you in the back and you couldn’t help but take a peek out and notice Rafe standing by the bar dressed in a navy colored suit with his dad who looked like he was scolding him for something. He looked good, really good. JJ pulled you into the locker room handing you a uniform with a white shirt and a black vest to put over it and informing you that you were on drink serving duty. You made your rounds looking over at Rafe every so often wanting nothing more than to approach him. You noticed Rafe's dad pulling him away from the crowd with a yank to his collar and watching as he stood in front of him yelling and pointing a finger in his face. Your feet were moving before your brain could process it and before you knew it you were in front of the two.

“Hi, can I get you guys anything to drink?” you put the sweetest smile on your face, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious that you were trying to distract Rafe’s dad. Ward cleared his throat before looking at you and ordering a whiskey on the rocks with a fake smile on his face. Rafe took the opportunity to make a break for it while you wrote down his fathers drink, exactly what you hoped would happen. After returning to Ward with his drink you went looking for Rafe only to find him back inside the club.

“Oh look who it is, my savior.” Rafe teased, watching you approach him before pulling out a chair for you to sit next to him. “Thanks for that by the way, you didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did, I understand family issues all too well, Cameron.” you laughed, taking the seat beside him.

“I’m surprised to see you here, so much for that curfew huh?” Rafe smirked, eyeing you from across the table.

“Funny enough, JJ came up with this super smart plan to sneak me out. Usually he’s not that on top of it, but I guess something changed.” you joked and reached for Rafe’s hand across the table. “Thank you for talking to him, you have no idea how much it means to me.”

“I know it sounds weird, but I think I would do anything for you.” Rafe blushed, squeezing your hand in his and putting his head down to hide the pink tint on his cheeks. You pulled your hand from his and reached up to lift his face to look at your before moving in closer to him. Your lips brushed his softly before he pulled you closer by your waist and your lips molded to each other and you melted into your first kiss with Rafe.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt but Y/N your aunts outside.” you pulled away from Rafe hearing JJ’s voice and you couldn’t believe what you heard. You looked between the boys with a horrified expression on your face and walked passed JJ outside to where your aunt and cousins were standing and causing a scene.

“Where the hell is she?!” you frowned, running up to them, hoping you could get her to leave without losing your job.

“There you are! You ungrateful piece of trash! How dare you sneak out with this scum of a boy!?” with each word your ugly aunt used her finger to push on her chest and you felt the anger bubbling up inside of you.

“Don’t touch me! And don’t talk about him like that. I’m 18 now, you can’t tell me what to do anymore!” you pushed her hand away, yelling back in her face with JJ and Rafe watching you from a few feet away, everyone else at the party enjoying the show.

“I sure as hell can if you’re living under MY roof!” you could hear your cousins laughing from behind her and that only fueled more anger in you.

“Don’t worry about me, because I'm moving out.” you finally had it, you couldn’t take dealing with her for another second longer. Unbeknownst to you, Rafe and JJ were sharing knowing looks at each other as the scene unfolded in front of them.

“And where do you think you’re gonna go?”

“With us!” JJ spoke up, and you felt him take a place at your side with Rafe following his actions on your other side.

“Good luck with that. They’ll be tired of you soon enough, don’t come crawling back.” your aunt scoffed, rolling her eyes at the two boys and retreating back to her SUV, “Girls! Here! Now!”

You felt tears start to roll down your cheeks and you laughed feeling both the boys wrap their arms around you. “Everything’s gonna be okay now, y/n.”

“Jeez, I don’t know what to say. Thank you guys for being here.” The rest of the party goers were clapping at you standing up for yourself and finally being free of her even though they didn’t know you or your situation.

“You don’t have to thank us, Y/N.” Rafe smiled as you pulled him into a tight hug feeling safe as his arms wrapped around you.

••epilogue••

Summer was officially over and you were sad to be moving on, but you could easily say this was the best summer of your entire life. After the screaming match with your aunt you moved in with JJ and John B and yes it was tough adjusting to living with boys but it was amazing. You were finally getting close with the other pogues Rafe’s sister Sarah and you just wish you hadn’t waited 4 years for it to happen.

Rafe did some digging with a private investigator and found a savings account in your name for your full college tuition that your aunt had been hiding from you. Everything was falling into place for you and speaking of Rafe: you guys were officially dating and going two months strong. You felt the happiest you ever had in your entire life and he was partly to thank for that.

You wound up going to Princeton together and lived happily ever after. At least for now. Hey, you’re only a freshman.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[princessamericachavez]

Fjorester Talk in episode 117

also known as Sofía goes buckwild and overanalyzes 10 minutes of conversation and body language.

ready?

Ok, first of all, Fjord looks so worried from the get go as he asks Jester if Lucien/Cree was speaking to her directly. 

And when she confirms it he does this little grumpy sigh

He no like it. No like it at all.

Fjord: Does it seem like he’s keying in on you in particular?

LISTEN GUYS

I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS

HOPING FJORD WOULD GET PROTECTIVE OVER JESTER CONSTANTLY GETTING SCRIED ON/MESSAGED BY LUCIEN BUT I DIDN’T THINK TRAVIS WAS ACTUALLY GOING TO DELIVER

AND HE DIIIIIID

Ok anyway he goes on about how when they see someone else scrying it’s usually just a representation of the spell and wonders if Lucien is more powerful and therefor can see the person

and then he makes a pause mid-argument

because Jester makes this face and he realizes this is upsetting her, so he quickly backtracks trying to reassure her. 

Fjord: I’m sure it’s just coincidence but...

and here’s where the idea comes and god how long has he been thinking about this???

Fjord: since we’re not in the sea... would you... want to wear this?

YES HELLO DO YOU SEE THE PARALLELS TO THAT ONE TIME HE WANTED TO GIVE HER AN EXTRA POWERFUL HEALING POTION TO MAKE SURE SHE WOULD BE SAFE??? PROTECTIVE FJORD PARALLELS!!!

and then he just brushes off the fact that he’s a huge Uk’otoa beacon everytime they are on water —baby, you died once already, don’t act like it’s whatever???

Fjord: maybe it would provide some protection if we were to keep checking in on him?

Jester: I mean... it’s worth a try. 

Of course, as she points out, Lucien has already met all of them and he could just as easily scry on any of the M9 if he wanted to, but that’s not really what Fjord is worried about, what is bothering him. Fjord knew Lucien was watching and it’s not the first time they are scried on, but he makes it clear that he’s concerned about how centered on Jester that’s been lately. 

Jester: Maybe it’ll keep me from getting seen next time I scry on him?

Fjord: I guess we’ll find out next time we try it. 

The way he chuckles softly, trying to defuse the tension, and she smiles back even though this subject clearly has her nervous??? 11/10

Jester: Thank you. 

SHE SAYS IT SO SOFTLY. SHE’S CLEARY SO TOUCHED THAT HE’S WATCHING OUT FOR HER AND HAVING HER BACK JUST LIKE HE ALWAYS DOES. 

LOOK AT THOSE HEART EYES THEY BOTH HAVE WTF

THEY ARE BOTH SO SOFT 

Fjord: Yeah. Just in case it’s not... coincidence. 

Listen there’s such a heaviness in how he says the word. 

Like the possibility of anyone —especially this very dangerous stranger with the face of a friend— purposefully targeting Jester is his worst nightmare. It probably is. 

Jester: It’s also creepy. He did say that he kind of knew me, right?

NOTICE HOW JESTER IS STILL PLAYING WITH THE AMULET IN HER HANDS??? 

Idk why but that’s getting to me. She’s so nervous with this whole thing. 

Fjord: He did?

Jester: When we got there he said he hadn’t met anyone except for me. 

OH FJORD DOESN’T LIKE THIS AT ALL

So of course Jester tries to defuse the tension talking about how she must look like through the scry

AND HE’S JUST SO IN LOVE

And so he plays along

LOOK AT THE WAY HE MAKE HER SMILE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(same, Ashley, same)

And so, more reassured by the goofiness, Jester finally puts the necklace on. 

Fjord: And of course, it’s Caleb’s...

Jester: oh

LISTEN SHE DID NOT LIKE THAT. She was clearly so excited to get a present like this from Fjord and you can see her face fall a little when it’s deviated towards someone else. 

Jester: should I ask him if it’s okay?

Fjord: Well, he gave it to me to use it..

Fjord: and you seem to need it more. 

AKA THE AMULET WAS FOR FJORD’S WELLBEING BUT THE WAY HE IS OK IS IF HE KNOWS JESTER IS PROTECTED

Jester, now that she knows this is something that he is personally choosing to transfer to her: Okay...

LOOK AT THE WAY SHE CLUTCHES IT TO HER HEART I’M DYING

Fjord: And just be careful.

Fjord: I don’t like the possibility of him keying in on you or using that connection between the two of you to manipulate something. His magic seems strange. 

LISTEN GUYS LISTEN 

THIS PART HERE IS HUGE OK?

This is the part where Fjord took 18 steps forward instead of one since Rumblecusp

Whereas before he could’ve hide his concern as something tactical, something useful that made sense and could help their mission... or could’ve hidden behind group speech to disguise his concern...

here he says “I don’t like the possibility of him keying in on you.”

here he is straight up saying “I am worried about you”

(quietly hopes Lucien does exactly that to trigger more protective fjord instincts in the future and lots of angst based shippy shenaingans)

Fjord: Alright. More adventures tomorrow. 

BECAUSE THAT’S ALL OK

THAT’S IT

HE SAID HIS PIECE, HE KEPT HER SAFE, MADE SURE SHE LAUGHED A LITTLE AND THAT’S ALL HE NEEDS... THAT AND MORE ADVENTURES BY HER SIDE

But then Jester hesitates

AND LOOK AT THAT, THE WAY SHE PULLS BACK LIKE SHE’S AFRAID IF SHE SAYS THE WRONG THING HE’LL CLOSE OFF

THE WAY HIS FACE SCRUNCHES WITH WORRY OVER WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE TROUBLING HER THAT SHE’S HESITATING TO SAY

Fjord: What?

Jester: H- How are you?

FJORD MELTING IMMEDIATELY: 

The way he goes from super concerned to extremely soft in 0.2 seconds.

(i am ashley and ashley is me)

Jester: *explaining all the very valid reasons she has to be worried about Fjord too and all the crazy shit that happened to him only a few days ago*

Fjord: *bursting with feelings of love*

seriously travis pls have some mercy of my poor yearning soul

Also I wanna talk about the way Jester brings up Avantika.

Jester: She tried to pull you into the water... you guys had a thing... it must have been weird to see her all kinda dead and stuff... was it weird? And then you killed her... again...

The way she calls them “a thing” and the way she checks if it was “weird” for him to see her as undead really says a lot to me. I think Jester never quite got over the heartbreak during the pirate arc and part of her probably still thought that Fjord harbored some sort of feelings or attraction towards Avantika. 

I think she believes whatever they two had was far more intimate than it actually was. Or, at the very least, Jester thinks it must have meant something to Fjord. 

How could she not? The whole thing had her bursting with jealousy and pain and unresolved feelings... you can tell how anxious she is around this subject but also she needs to know if he’s alright because she cares too much

Fjord: It was weird. Yeah, it was weird, for sure. I wasn’t expecting that...

HE DOESN’T EVEN REGISTER IT AS AN “EX” THING I SWEAR

Fjord: I’m alright. 

And so she finally relaxes.

Fjord: It feels like I keep trying to start newer chapters in my life and leave the old stuff behind and then it just... keeps popping up. 

Fjord: It feels like it’s hard to... pursue something new, when the past is not dealt with. 

YOU CAN’T SEE IT IN THE SCREENSHOTS BUT JESTER STARTS NODDING VERY GENTLY WHEN HE STARTS TALKING ABOUT NEW CHAPTERS AND MOVING ON 

ALSO THIS

(ashley knows what I’m talking about)

Jester: Do we need to deal with the past?

WE

SHE SAYS WE

BECAUSE AS USUAL THEY ARE A TEAM ALWAYS FIRST AND FOREMOST

AND IF THIS IS SOMETHING HE NEEDS TO DO SHE’S GOING TO HELP HIM AND BE BY HIS SIDE WITHOUT A DOUBT NO MATTER WHAT

Fjord: I think so. 

Fjord: Yeah... I want to. 

THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER WHEN HE SAYS ‘I WANT TO’. HE WANTS TO HAVE A FUTURE WITH HER. HE WANTS TO LET GO OF THE PAST SO HE CAN HAVE A FUTURE WITH HER. HE’S LETTING HIMSELF ‘WANT’ THIS AND ADMITTING IT.

Fjord: I feel like I need to close all of that before...

AND THEN HE JUST GOES THROUGH THIS BLESSED FACE JOURNEY FOR 6 ENTIRE SECONDS

LOOK AT IT

AND THE WAY SHE SLOWLY SMILES LIKE SHE MIGHT KNOW WHAT HE MEANS

LOOK AT HER OWN FACIAL JOURNEY

ASHLEYYYYYYYYYY

And so Jester jumps into action mode offering her help. 

and Fjord —once again— proves that he’s able and willing to open up to Jester about things that he’s keeping close to his chest... like Sabian. 

Fjord: I um... I actually... I put a bounty out for S-Sabian. 

IDK WHY THIS FACIAL EXPRESSION AMUSES ME THIS MUCH

THIS IS FJORD’S ‘IM ABOUT TO CONFESS SOMETHING PERSONAL TO JESTER FACE’ AND WE’VE SEEN IT BEFORE AT THE KILN AND IN RUMBLECUSP

Jester: A bo- When? How?

SHE’S SO BEWILDERED LMFAO

and a little offended that she didn’t know

and I think Fjord can tell by the way he quickly tries to excuse it as a way to keep Kotho occupied after the whole Vokodo ordeal

But Jester quickly gets back on track and starts looking for a way to help him with this. If finding Sabian is what Fjord wants —what he needs— right now, she’ll do anything to help him. 

Jester: *describing how she would be able to help Fjord*

Fjord, who never had anyone be this ride or die for him ever and who is bursting at the seems with love for this kind and wonderful woman:

Fjord: Sure.

Jester: You want me to do it?

Fjord: Yeah. 

THOSE HEART EYES SHOULD BE ILEGAL 

Jester: *uses a sixth level spell to send a message for Fjord because this is totally her number one priority now and it’s not like they are dealing with stuff that literally drained her today or like they are stuck up north for god knows how long... nope... she needs to find a way to help Fjord right now*

Fjord:

okay okay okay

so after the message

you can see how Jester is worried that the news she finally found for him are bad news and not going to cheer him up

Jester: Oops

Fjord: No, no, no, no! No oops! That’s great! That’s great!

I love the way he rushes to reassure her, to make sure she knows that what she just did for him is amazing and means so much and please jester do not be sad about this because this already means so much to me you have no ideaaaaaa

Fjord: That’s... totally distracting but that’s great. 

Fjord: Thank you.

Jester: You’re welcome! Now you know!

Fjord, with more feeling and emotion behind it like he wants to tell her that she and everything she does for him out of love mean the entire universe to him: Thank you.

Jester, blissfully unaware that he’s in love with him but delighted that she was able to help and that he is letting her in enough to help deal with his past: You’re welcome! I’m glad I could help!

Fjord, still not over how good she is and how diametrically different her kindness is compared to everything else he’s known in life so far and still after these many months shook and surprised by how wonderful she is: That’s very nice of you, I-

Jester: It’s just a (6th level) spell. Easy to do.

SHE HAS NO IDEA THAT WHAT HE MEANS ISN’T THE MAGIC NOR THE SPELL NOR THE INFORMATION... IT’S HER HELP AND SUPPORT THAT HE IS SO SHAKEN WITH. 

Fjord: I.... will think about that all night. 

Sure you will Fjord. We know you will. But we know it’s not about Sabien but about Jester’s kindness that you’re gonna be thinking all night. We know that’s what’s keeping you up. Not the past, the future. 

AND OF COURSE

THE OBLIGATORY AWKWARD ENDING

Fjord: I’ll race you to the top!

Both: UP!

THEY ARE SO ADORABLE AND GOOFY AND PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER WTF HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE MY LIFE INSTEAD OF THINKING ABOUT THEM 24/7??

ANYWAY WHO IS READY FOR PIRATE ARC PART 2 AND MORE SHENANIGANS WITH THESE TWO WHILE FJORD GETS FINALLY READY TO MOVE FORWARD TOWARDS THE FUTURE HE WANTS WITH JESTER? I AM

[cherryhanji]

flowers don't tell, they show

bulleted scenario. stray kids (hyung line) x female reader

genre: florist/flower shop au, fluff (idk what else to put lol)

words: 1.6k

warning(s): none (a single curse word maybe?)

description: what if you received a flower from your own shop?

alexa's note:

so hello there my friends! stay at home this valentines'? (actually u don't need a boyfriend/girlfriend to celebrate valentines. love is not only for couples! it's for everyone! have u heard different types of love?) well, i just want to give my lovely bubs here the half of my cute lil valentines' gift. and i hope y'all like it! *kith kith* (maknae line will be posted tomorrow)

just a quick disclaimer:

so i really don't have that much knowledge about flowers and their specific meanings, i just googled them (sorry) so if i interpreted something that you think is wrong, pls tell me right away. thankies!

•••

BANG CHAN

• your cutie af neighbor who highkey endorses your shop to his fam and friends, in which you are so grateful of because it really helped your business a lot

• "your flower arrangements are so damN beautiful"

• always gives a cup of coffee every morning before you go to your shop

• "cheer up! florists like you are always appreciated. Don't be sulky, okay?"

• one time you went home really exhausted

• valentines' day is always the holiday that makes your business boom a lot

• only seeing a bouquet of flower sitting nicely on your doorstep

• realizing that the bouquet was the one you made a while ago, but didn't have the clue who the person who bought this from you.

• "I know it's very exhausting, since morning, I know you'll get exhausted, so I bought this for you, hoping that it will lift up your mood and put a smile on your face."

• "keep on smiling, it makes me smile too. - CHAN"

• he's right. Definitely right. Because as soon as you read his small note, that bright smile on your face never faded. all the stress from the shop was completely removed by this unexpected gift.

• "He's really a sunshine, as what they always say."

LEE KNOW/MINHO

• "flowers easily wilt and die soon, why are y'all spending your money with that?"

• "minho, if you just went here to mock my family's business, I am happy to tell you that you may now leave"

• "Fine fine. They're beautiful, okay? Like you"

• "oh shut up"

• Minho always annoy the shit out of you every weekends. And when you say weekends, it means Saturday and Sunday because you always help ypur parents manage your own family business which is a flower shop.

• Your mother loves planting, especially growing flowers. And as a daughter of a florist, you grew to love it. Which gives you knowledge about different kinds of flowers and their specific meaning.

• "being a florists' daughter, what's your favorite flower?"

• you smiled at his expected inquiry. your classmates already asked you the same question.

• Minho is your friend for quite a long time already, though you weren't surprised he asked this question, but what's surprising is he asked you about this just now.

• "I actually have lots of them. truthfully I love all kinds of flowers. But I have this one thing on my mind."

• he looks a bit interested, knowing Minho, he's not into flowers, telling you that he always catch allergies whenever he stays near them. Not having an idea why he always manage to go to your shop that is full of flowers and not getting allergies at all.

• "I really love this flower called goldenrod. Aside from its cute little yellow flower heads, I love it because of its symbolism."

• "it symbolizes encouragement and growth, and apparently this flower brings good luck to everyone. Isn't it cute?"

• "Kinda. You know, rose and sunflower are the only flowers I am really familiar of"

• You laugh at his adorable confession, he's right. Most of your customers, example of them are teenagers like you order roses as a gift for their special someone.

• Little did they know, there are different variations of flowers that can really interpret what they feel

• "I heard that Camellia symbolizes adoration, am I right?"

• you were shocked that Minho, a guy who only knows roses and sunflowers knew this.

• Camellia symbolizes adoration, some people give Camellia to tell how much they adore and like that certain person.

• "yeah, you're right. How'd you know that?"

• "Google, duh. Anyways, do you have a stock of Camellias today? If yes, can you please arrange me a bouquet of it?"

• As expected, Minho and his sassiness. But knowing that he'll purchase a camellia from your shop consoled you a bit.

• Giving you his payment, you immediately arranged the camellia bouquet, your favorite arrangement. Showcasing your talent in front of him

• Which you think is effective because you can see how attentive he was from your peripheral view, making you feel a bit awkward.

• But your mind came to abrupt stop after you gave him the bouquet.

• "w-why..?"

• "it's for you, idiot. Good job in arranging the bouquet, you received a pretty bouquet of camellia flowers.

• "the flower says it all. don't ask me why."

CHANGBIN

• "The most expensive bouquet of flowers you sell in your please."

• You frown at the way Changbin address his order to you.

• In your University, Changbin is that one "delinquent, rude-looking guy from your class".

• And your first encounter with him isn't that good. Leaving a bad impression of him to you. So you were kinda surprised to see him in your shop.

• Seeing Changbin, dressed in black leather jacket with lots of piercings hanging on his ears with a colorful bouquet of flowers from your shop in his hands? nah, that's strange for you.

• "are you really this good at arranging those flowers?"

• his "lowkey compliment" made your ears perked up. You and Changbin aren't really that close, given your bad first meeting with him.

• "Uh, y-yeah? Because I do this for a long time now. So I'm already used to it."

• Giving his order to him made your face a bit flushy, your hands accidentally brushed against each other.

• You just handed his order, but why do you feel something in your stomach?

• your eyebrows knitted when he gave back to you the flowers, hesitating to accept it.

• doesn't he like the arrangement?

• "w-why are you giving this--"

• "I'm sorry if I left a bad impression to you. I swear, I didn't mean to be rude to you. I am just totally pissed off that day. And I wished that the ground will just eat me alive when I knew you were one of my classmates in Ethics."

• Hearing him apologize for leaving a bad impression to you, made your heart sank. Maybe he's not that rude unlike what you think of him.

• "Are you really that sorry?"

• You didn't know why you asked that, maybe you just liked the way his sorry and remorseful tone is contrasting his physical appearance?

• "Yeah, I really am. I hope that you accept it. Maybe we can start off again? This time, I'll be nicer to you. I'll never be that rude guy from your class ever again."

• His last line made you giggle because he probably heard what you told your seatmate about him that day.

HYUNJIN

• The classic "high school hearththrob"

• Expected that most girls from your school gave him those plastic flowers, with diabetic filled boxes (aka sweets)

• "I really appreciate their admiration. But where do you think I'll store these plastic flowers? I am not even a fan of flowers."

• "plastic flowers last long. but it's plastic, it can destroy our nature. So, real flowers are still the real deal."

• "yeah, I know. That's why you're lowkey endorsing your flower shop. Yeah, they should buy authentic and fresh flowers from Y/N's flower shop."

• Hyunjin decided to walk with you, going to your shop after school, to help your parents sell and arrange flowers. Because for sure there are lots of people visiting your shop to buy flowers. Valentines' day, people.

• "Is it okay to stay here for a while? If you don't mind?"

• You just let him walk around, his eyes appreciating the beauty of each flowers displayed around the shop.

• The title "flower boy" just fits him perfectly.

• and the way he just picked up the single lavender rose was just as fascinating as him

• "this looks pretty and rare, what does this mean?"

• "you're right. lavender rose are the rare variety of roses, and it symbolizes love at first sight."

• the smile on hyunjin's face is so genuine, and you know that someone came up to his mind after you told him what the lavender rose symbolizes.

• "great. I'll buy this one, please."

• the enthusiasm in Hyunjin's voice tells you that your assumption was right. Who ever they are, they're so lucky.

• But you think you already have an idea who that person is.

• With a small folded paper, and a bar of chocolate, Hyunjin gave you the flower he bought and picked himself from your own flower shop.

• "Happy Valentines, I hope you like it."

• For sure the thumpings of your heart can be heard already because of its wild beating.

• "Good thing I found that rare flower for a girl like you."

•••

tagging my networks: (bcs sometimes it won't show up in the tags😤) @districtninewriters @inkidz @skzwriternet @stayhavens @0325-net

[clumsyclifford]

for the prompt list i hope it's ok to do a combo bc 70 & 85? 👀 (idk why the text is weird i think it's bc i had to copy paste the emoji since i'm on desktop skjfkdjs) anyways it's for whatever pairing you think works best :) -megs <3

omg yes a combo! aka challenge mode. my favourite :) ALSO! i took advantage of this open-ended prompt to write ! my very first ! cashton prompt fic ! this is so exciting i love it here. finally completing the set thank you for allowing me this moment

read on ao3

-

Calum treks into Ashton’s room around midnight. The light from the hallway spills into the room until Calum pulls the door shut behind him, probably worried about waking Ashton. Considerate of him, but unnecessary.

“I’m not asleep,” Ashton says.

Calum exhales. “You’re telling me you went to bed an hour ago and you’re still awake?”

“I was reading for a bit,” Ashton says. “I’ve only just moved to the falling-asleep stage. And obviously I have not yet been successful.”

Calum hums an acknowledgment. “Do you, um…can I…”

“Yeah, always,” Ashton says, shifting onto his back to watch Calum. “You don’t have to ask, Cal. I’ve already told you it doesn’t bother me.”

“But you don’t like sharing with Luke or Michael,” Calum says quietly. “I don’t know, I’m just making sure.”

Ashton is grateful for the dark room to hide his blush. “Yeah, but I don’t mind if it’s you.”

They both know it’s different, but neither one will be the first to admit it. This is how they communicate for now, in shared sheets and heavy implications, never saying what they mean, trusting the other person will get it anyway.  

“Okay,” Calum says. “If you’re sure.”

“Next time you ask me I’m just going to ignore you,” Ashton says as Calum pads his way over to the bed. 

“You’re a monster,” Calum says. “You put me in an awkward position here. If you ever wanted to come sleep in my bed you’d probably feel awkward too.”

Ashton purses his lips. “Well, that’s what you get for always going to sleep after me.”

“Mhm,” Calum hums, too knowingly for Ashton’s liking.

“But to be fair, I’ve never asked you if I could sleep with you. Whereas you’ve asked me many times, and I’ve said yes every single time.”

“Still,” Calum says, crawling under the covers and propping himself up on his elbow. It’s hard to see him through the darkness, but Ashton can feel Calum’s eyes carefully trained on his face, maybe seeking his eyes. 

“You want to sleep in your bed?” Ashton asks, raising his eyebrows.

“No!”

“I mean both of us.” Ashton’s face flushes. “I’m just asking, like, would you prefer that. If you didn’t have to feel awkward asking me.”

“No,” Calum says. “Honestly, no. I don’t mind asking. Anyway, I like that you keep saying yes.”

He’s smiling. So is Ashton. 

“Alright,” says Ashton, shaking his head a bit. “Come on. It’s late.”

“It’s really not that late,” Calum says. “Mike’s still up.”

“That’s the worst argument for it not being late. Michael is up until three in the morning.”

“Luke might still be up.”

“He most certainly is not.”

“You never know. Luke’s unpredictable. A wild card.”

Ashton laughs. As if Luke could ever be a wild card. As if he could ever be anything other than unwaveringly, consistently Luke, the biggest creature of habit Ashton’s ever met. Second only, maybe, to Ashton himself.

Calum pulls the covers up and snuggles up to Ashton, reservations gone. “Mm, you’re warm,” he mumbles.

“You are not,” Ashton says, tensing up. “Motherfucker, Calum Hood. Wear a jumper.”

“I’m not cold!” Calum presses his face into Ashton’s neck. 

“Not to you you’re not. Stop it!”

“Sorry,” Calum says, though he doesn’t sound sorry.

“I see how it is,” Ashton huffs, shifting to press closer to Calum, because whatever he says, a cold Calum is better than no Calum at all. “You just use me for my warmth. I’m the guy who keeps the bed warm.”

“Not true,” Calum says, pouting. “I like cuddling.”

“You never cuddle with Luke or Michael. Now I know why. They don’t go to bed early enough to be warm enough for you. I’m just your personal space heater.”

“First of all, Michael hogs the blankets, and he knows that’s why I don’t cuddle with him anymore.” Ashton laughs. “But anyway that’s not it at all. Stop fishing for compliments. You’re not a last resort. I never check their rooms.”

Maybe he’d been fishing a little bit, but the payoff is worth it. “Good,” Ashton says. Being pleased about that might say too much, but Calum has put himself on the line just saying it, so they can call it even.

“I thought we were sleeping now,” Calum says, slinging an arm over Ashton’s stomach. “Be quiet.”

“Don’t shush me in my own bed.”

“Be quieeeet,” Calum sings in a hushed voice. “It’s time to sleeeeeeep.”

“I’ll kick you out.”

“No you won’t.” Calum hums, a quiet, contented noise, and Ashton can feel his smile against his collarbone before Calum turns his head. Ashton stretches out his arm, forcing Calum to lift up his head for a moment before returning it to rest on Ashton’s bicep, cheek pressed against Ashton’s shoulder. Ashton feels warmer than before. He wonders if Calum can feel that on him. If Calum feels that too.

“What were you reading?”

“I thought you wanted to sleep,” Ashton says wryly. 

“I changed my mind. I want to talk.”

“You just want me to talk.”

“Okay, same thing. I fall asleep faster when you talk.” Calum shrugs a shoulder, moving his hand to rest against Ashton’s chest. Through Ashton’s thin t-shirt he can feel the heat of Calum’s palm, the way his thumb moves just so to smooth out the fabric before settling.

At some point they’re going to have to address this. Ashton has a sneaking suspicion that if he doesn’t say something, nothing will ever happen. Calum feels awkward asking to sleep with Ashton despite the blanket permission Ashton has granted him repeatedly. There’s no way he’ll bring up something like this.

Dance around it? Sure. Like motherfucking Fred Astaire. But never face it head-on.

It’s on the tip of Ashton’s tongue to say something, say anything. Ask a point-blank question, maybe, like why do you only ever want to sleep in my bed?, or just say the truth. Confess how he feels and hope Calum is brave enough to do the same. Hope Calum feels the same. 

It’s late enough, and Ashton is tired enough, that he can’t see it backfiring. Maybe it would go well. Or at least maybe it wouldn’t go badly. Maybe Calum would smile and say me too, you idiot, I’ve been waiting for you to say something; maybe he’d pick up his head and give Ashton that cheeky smile Ashton’s come to expect from him, and maybe he’d kiss Ashton, taking the warmth off Ashton’s lips to keep for himself. 

Maybe he’d just sigh that happy sigh of his and say let’s talk about this in the morning, cuddling closer to let Ashton know that this isn’t a soft rejection, just a rain check for when they’re both more awake. Ashton could take that.

But as much as Ashton is sure there’s something here, he can’t bring himself to say it. It’s easy to be confident right up until he needs to be confident. 

(And it could always go wrong. It could. It could.)

“You calling me boring?” Ashton teases softly, but Calum just huffs an exhale.

“You know I’m not,” he whispers. “Please?”

Ashton brings his hand up to tangle into Calum’s hair, and Calum gives his happy sigh and cuddles closer, just as Ashton had hoped. “Okay,” Ashton murmurs. “Sure. Goodnight, Cal.”

“‘Night, Ash.”

Ashton smiles. They can talk about it another day. Tomorrow, maybe. “You wouldn’t like this book,” he starts. “It’s by an old white guy, and I know you hate those.” Calum breathes a quiet laugh. “Well, he’s not that old…”

Calum drifts off as Ashton describes the premise of his book, going slack in Ashton’s arms, breathing slow, and Ashton presses a kiss into his hair. 

One day he’ll do it when Calum is awake, but not today. There’s always tomorrow. 

[matchasprouts]

The Walls - Chapter 5

[ whoa! idk how i got this out but uhhhhhhh enjoy ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

Felix was surprised to be woken up by Greta, three hours after he usually got up no less. Before he could ask why she let him sleep in, she cut him off with the answer. “You looked ready to drop dead yesterday. I figured you needed the extra rest.”

She was right, those extra hours helped dissipate some of the ache in his muscles. “Maybe you should take a break today,” she suggested, readjusting Brahms on her hip. “I know you usually don’t do that, the Heelshires told me that much, but you really need it.”

And then she left, and Felix was left wondering what she meant by that. Until, of course, he caught a look at himself in the vanity mirror.

He looked nothing short of awful. There were deep, dark circles under his eyes from the lack of proper sleep he’d been getting, his eyes themselves were bloodshot, and if he looked closely he could see there was still dirt in his hair.

Not to mention the screaming ache that shot through every muscle in his body, almost making him feel like he was about to collapse.

The last time his body felt and looked like this was in college, and he hated it. He hated looking weak, much less feeling weak. If a break was what it took for him to have the energy to kill someone if needed, then he would take that goddamn break.

Starting with a hot bath to soothe his body and finally get that fucking dirt off of him.

---

He almost died in the bathtub.

Or at least, that’s what he told Greta when he came downstairs with his hair still sopping wet and dripping water everywhere. She seemed concerned for all of two seconds before deciding she simply didn’t care.

What actually happened is that he fell asleep in the bathtub, woke up suddenly to the sound of a child laughing, and freaked himself out. To be fair, he did hit his head on the side of the tub at least twice.

Anyway, Felix wasn’t built for breaks, so instead of relaxing or even just doing something small like playing the piano, he spent his time helping Greta with her chores. Being taller than her, he could reach higher shelves when dusting the bookcase, so he did. When she was occupied with Brahms, he would take over vacuuming or the dishes. He even took to going around and fixing every slightly crooked painting that he was sure had been jostled by the wall thing.

Basically, he was no good at sitting still. Felix was either doing something every second of the day, or he was sleeping. There was just no in between for him.

That is, until there was literally nothing else to be done. It was late afternoon now, the sun was just barely starting to dip past the horizon. Felix was sitting at the piano, playing a soft and somewhat cheerful tune, since Brahms didn’t seem to like the melancholic melodies he knew.

“When did you learn piano?” Greta asked after a while, setting down the book she’d been reading to the doll. The suddenness of the question made Felix’s fingers stutter, hitting a sour note that made him cringe.

“I don’t remember,” he admitted after moving his hands to his lap, so he couldn’t get distracted while playing again. “I imagine it was sometime in my childhood, maybe in highschool? I think I took a class… I’m not sure. My childhood memories are foggy at best.”

At least he was telling the truth. While fresher memories were burned into his head, anything before his freshman year in college was a blank. The only therapist he’d ever seen told him it was repression, due to trauma. Since he couldn’t remember what the trauma was though, they could never work on it.

The only thing he truly remembered was his mother. Soft voiced, a brunette like him, piercing green eyes. She was beautiful. She also had a grip like the devil, and spoke like it too.

To some extent, he was aware that his insecurities came from her. He also knew that she had been… less than supportive when he told her that he was trans, and that it led to probably one of the worst arguments of his life.

Sometimes, when he looked down at his hands, he thought he could still see the bruises her grip had left.

He shook his head, clearing it of the images of her. ‘She’s no longer a concern,’ he reminded himself internally, ‘you took care of that. She’s gone.’

“Oh,” Greta spoke again, snapping him back to reality, “well, that’s too bad. You’re really good at it, you know. You must have been practicing for a long time.”

Right. They were talking about the piano. He mentally scolded himself for getting off track before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I played all through college. Most at frat parties and the like, it’s a great party trick. My hands still cramp up sometimes though. Guess that’ll never stop happening.”

He returned to his playing after that, due to the soft scratching in the wall behind him. Sometimes the thing would let him take a break, but apparently today was not one of those days. He liked that it liked his music, he really did, but it could be so demanding sometimes.

After a little while, it came time for Brahms to be put to bed. After glancing at the clock, Greta stood up with the doll, told Felix good night, and headed upstairs.

Once Felix had finished the song, and confirmed that the thing had taken off, he followed her up.

And, since both were upstairs, neither of them heard the door open. The door they never bothered to lock because no one ever came all the way out here.

Felix had just collapsed face first onto his bed when he heard the thing practically running through the walls, back downstairs. Following that, he heard the familiar sound of the billiard balls hitting each other.

He shot up without a moment’s hesitation, running almost full speed back down the stairs and to the room where the pool table was kept. He almost fell over once there, slamming full force into the doorframe.

There stood a rather greasy looking man with long hair pulled back into a bun, sporting a messy beard. He stared at Felix in confusion, who was glaring so harshly at him that he would be dead if looks could kill.

It wasn’t long before Greta and the doll joined them, interrupting their staring match. “... Cole?” she asked softly, sounding both confused and scared.

Oh? Oh Greta was scared of this man? And he invaded their house?? Oh.

Almost immediately, Felix stood in front of Greta, grabbing one of the pool sticks and holding it up as a make-shift weapon. “You’re not welcome here,” he spat at Cole who, for the most part, seemed unfazed.

Boy was he gonna regret that.

“I don’t even know who you are,” Cole brushed him off, looking around him at Greta again. Felix once again stepped to block him. He accepted this fate, choosing to just speak at Greta. “Greta, babe, you just left without saying anything.”

It was hard to tell, but Felix could feel Greta’s free hand brush up against his back, seemingly grateful to have a shield against the other man. “Getting- getting this job was kind of sudden… and you know we aren’t together anymore…”

Knowing that Cole was an abusive ex made Felix want to kick his ass even more.

Cole took a step toward them, and Felix immediately held the stick up higher, more than ready to take a swing at the bastard. That made him pause, clearly wondering if getting beat up by a gardener was worth it.

“So, where’s the little kid?” Cole asked after a moment of tense silence. Felix glanced back at Greta, silently willing her to ignore him, but she stepped forward anyway and showed him Brahms. Cole laughed, as expected. “No, seriously, where’s the kid?”

“This is Brahms,” Greta said, standing her ground. She and Cole stared at each other for a long moment, before he seemed to accept that she wasn’t joking.

“Well, that makes this easier at least. We’re going home tomorrow. I already bought the plane tickets,” Cole announced, making Greta actually flinch. It was clear she didn’t want to go. Felix’s patience was running thin- he knew he needed to cut this off before he did something rash.

Before either of them could continue their conversation, Felix stepped in. “She’s not going anywhere. She has a job to do, and she will complete it. The Heelshires expect it of her. You’re welcome to stay here for tonight, only because I pity whatever hole you crawled out of, but you will be gone in the morning. Do I make myself clear?”

At least he was smart enough to avoid a confrontation. “Crystal,” Cole replied, putting his hands up in a mock surrender.

“I’ll get him set up. Can you go lay Brahms down?” Greta stepped in again, a hand on Felix’s bicep. He nodded to her, setting down the pool stick and taking Brahms from her. He sent Cole one last glare before heading upstairs.

Normally he’d be able to hear the thing follow him into the bedroom, but not this time. He assumed it was because it was watching over Greta, which he was glad for.

He changed Brahms into his pajamas with shaky hands, trying so hard to contain the rage that threatened to spill over just from Cole’s presence in the house. Another broken fucking rule, and he hadn’t been good enough to stop it.

After tucking Brahms into bed and giving him the obligatory good night kiss, he went back downstairs to check on Greta, only to be stopped by her at the top of the stairs. “Thank you for not doing anything… rash down there,” she told him, looking genuinely grateful.

“Believe me, if there was no consequences in beating him until he was unconscious, I wouldn’t have hesitated,” Felix replied harshly, now turning on his heel and heading back to his room. Greta stood in place for a moment, surprised, before heading into Brahms’s room.

The doll was the only comfort she had at the moment, so she laid down with him, holding him close as she drifted off to sleep.

---

They woke up to Cole yelling downstairs, practically screaming for Greta. When she and Felix got downstairs, the offending asshole grabbed Greta by the arm and yanked her into the room.

“What the fuck is that!?” he yelled, pointing up at something written in red on one of the upper windows,

‘Get Out’. Huh. Clearly the wall thing didn’t like this bitch.

Felix tuned out Cole’s frantic yelling when he noticed Brahms sitting in one of the armchairs, a bag full of dead rats sitting in front of him. Greta noticed it as well, gasping at the sight of the boy and rushing forward to pull him into her arms.

Apparently Cole did not like this.

“Of course all you care about is that fucking doll! He’s not a real boy, Greta!!” he shouted, making both Felix and Greta flinch. “Now you tell me who the hell did this!”

“Brahms did,” Felix cut in, making Cole look sharply at him. He figured he’d rather Cole yell at him over Greta. “He doesn’t like you. You’re an intruder in his home. He was bound to lash out.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me that the fucking DOLL did that?” Cole snapped, taking an aggressive step towards Felix and gaining a low growl in response. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“He’s not,” Greta cut in, her voice shaky. “Brahms… is very creative and- and he doesn’t like you. Not at all.”

Cole glanced between the two of them before letting out a frustrated yell and snatching Brahms from Greta’s arms, despite her protests. “Enough about this stupid doll!”

Before any of them knew it, they were upstairs and in the child’s bedroom. “Put him down Cole!” Greta begged him, staying a safe distance away but clearly wanting to run over to the boy.

Felix, on the other hand, was taking direct action. “Either you put him down, or I make you regret being born,” he threatened, grabbing the closest weapon- a small bat that he jokingly left in Brahms’s room “in case he needed it”.

“You’re not gonna touch me with this fucking thing here,” Cole retorted, holding Brahms up by the leg. He was right, because Felix just stood there, gaze glued on the doll.

Cole began to swing the boy around by the leg when he realized no one was going to do anything, quietly humming to himself. “Maybe… if this thing wasn’t here…” he mused, glancing at Greta.

Felix moved first, lunging for Cole, but he wasn’t fast enough. Not even close. Brahms’s head shattered on the chair before Felix managed to tackle Cole, sending both of them toppling onto the ground.

And then the walls started to shake, freezing both of them. Felix was up in a matter of seconds, truly panicking now. It had seen what had just happened.

And it wasn’t happy.

[thirstyforoc]

🎂

I know his birthday was a couple days ago but my brain doesn't work that well and I'm always early for everything else, I can be late for this.

Here's something to read that's probably not great and wordy and rambly and really only relevant to my own interests. I had to hammer this out because I just had to and it took longer than I expected because I can't shut the fuck up. Read it if you feel like it or don't, I'll still love you either way.

Using real names so don't keep going if that bothers you. I didn't post the picture but I make a reference to that one pic of him at Medieval Times, you know the one, at least I hope you do. Enjoy.

Idk, I just like picturing every single birthday Dustin and Jim have spent together since they became friends. Sue me. I have too much time on my hands and like to think about their relationship so I have to get this out. Here. Take it.

It's early in their friendship, a few years in. They're in Philly for a show and Dustin knows it's almost Jim's birthday, he's aware it's coming up but he forgot what day it fell on and that it was so soon until Jim brings it up. He's never super sober or super clear on what day of the week it is, that's just how he lives. If anyone has a problem with it that's on them. Jim never seems to take issue with it though. Maybe that's why their friends?

It's the Friday before his birthday. They're hanging out at Dustin's place before heading to the show and Jim reminds Dustin when his birthday is. "Tuesday? Your fucking birthday is on a Tuesday this year? Gross. Jim Day on a Tuesday. Lame."

Jim laughs a little, the soft laugh he always gives Dustin when he's being a certain kind of ridiculous or obnoxious, like he can't believe he's saying what he's saying. "You know I don't get to pick what day my birthday falls on, right? Tell me you know that. I need to hear you say you know that."

"I mean, yuck. What's there to do on a Tuesday?"

"I dunno. I don't really have any plans this year." Truth be told Jim's not all that concerned with how he's going to spend his actual birthday. Perhaps he'll do something with friends or family back in Jersey? Maybe he won't. It's not a big, special, milestone birthday or anything. No reason to go all out.

Dustin absolutely, positively will not shut up about it. No matter how many times Jim grunts or rolls his eyes Dustin just keeps talking and babbling about how it's a crime for someone's birthday to fall on a Tuesday. Jim's on the verge of asking Dustin exactly what is wrong with Tuesdays anyway when Dustin pauses to look right at him. "We should just start now."

"Huh?"

"Today."

"Today?"

"Yeah. Like, spend the whole weekend partying. Today is your birthday. Tomorrow is your birthday. Keep the Jim Day train on the tracks through Sunday, Monday, your actual birthday. You said you didn't have plans, right? Just stay. You'll stay and it'll be like...like one long birthday instead of a fucking boring ass birthday on a Tuesday of all days. Yeah, you'll stay and...and you'll stay and we'll find things to do every day. So, you'll stay." It's never a question. It's already been decided that Jim's going to agree. Dustin never sounds uncertain, says it with such confidence. He's not fearful even for one second Jim might say he isn't down.

Dustin wants him to stay so Jim does. Sure, he's got things he could be doing at home, was planning on staying maybe through Saturday and heading back Sunday morning, Sunday evening at the latest but he could stay. Yeah, he will stay. Dustin wants him to stay so he's staying.

Work will go on without him. He'll call his family and tell them something came up. If his parents or siblings are upset they can find a way to celebrate his birthday once he's home and recovered from what's bound to be a bender if he knows anything at all about Dustin. Dustin wants him to stay. He'll stay.

Man, go home where he's made no plans, where there's no party, and most of all no Dustin or have the time of his life all weekend with one of his best friends? Wow, that's a hard choice. Dustin really seems to want him to stay so he's staying.

Friday night they head to the nearest bar after the show is over, close down the damn thing and stay up laughing and talking on Dustin's couch for three hours once they get back. They're not even paying attention to the time, neither one cares. Drinking and partying with all their wrestling friends was fun but at the end of the night it's nice that it's just the two of them. It's nice.

The next morning is a bit rough. Ok, they aren't conscious until afternoon but 2pm counts as morning when it's Dustin and Jim you're talking about. Saturday-it's Saturday, right?-is pretty much the same only the drinking begins much earlier, like pretty much as soon as they're both showered and get some food in their stomachs. Day drinking is a lot of fun, so much fun that a short nap is necessary before they head out to meet their friends again. Actually, they kind of passed out together on the couch watching tv, it was completely unintentional and unplanned. They probably would have slept the rest of the day away if not for Dustin being startled awake by Jim's loud snoring. "Thank god we don't live together." Dustin thinks for a moment while watching Jim sleep. Well, maybe that wouldn't be all bad. Whatever, can't think about it too long, they have to get up.

Saturday night is even wilder than Friday night. They drink too much. Way too much. They're tanked. Bombed. Blitzed. Completely fucked. Dustin kept buying them shots and when their bar tab got a little too high he simply shifted to telling everyone who would listen it was Jim's birthday, coaxed a bunch of other drunks into buying them more shots.

Sunday is the worst. They're suffering when they finally roll out of bed and off the couch for good and both agree easily, immediately they should take it easy today. There's a shitty, cheap diner close to Dustin's place so they stop there to eat dinner, share a huge plate of greasy diner food that Dustin pays for. Friends keep asking if they're coming to the bar again but both of them are in rocky shape from the night before. They sit Sunday night out, convalesce on Dustin's couch quietly, chug water and make small talk while they recover.

Monday evening Dustin takes Jim to Medieval Times because the little guy has talked about it so many times since they first met, drops hints constantly about how he wants to go-not this weekend but Dustin remembers him mentioning it-so Dustin figures now would be good. It's the little hunk's birthday after all.

On the drive there they swear they're going to take it easy, agree to have a couple glasses of wine with dinner and call it good. What a crock of shit. After cracking open their third bottle of the night Jim insists he's going to sit on that throne because he'll look badass so Dustin follows. He follows his little drunk blond friend everywhere, why wouldn't he? Gotta keep tabs on him, make sure he's safe, keep eyes on him. Jim doesn't ask but Dustin takes several pictures of him on that throne, laughs the entire time because Jim is hilarious and fun and cute, really fucking cute, especially with almost two bottles of wine in him.

"Ooh. C'mon." Jim grabs Dustin's wrist so fast he damn near drops his phone, leads him towards the photo booth in the lobby. The little shit is lucky Dustin has some cash on him, Dustin can tell from the look on his face he isn't going to take no for an answer. Jim shoves Dustin in first and almost crashes down on his lap, drunk on wine and apparently really fucking excited about them taking pictures together.

The booth is tiny. The seat is narrow. Jim's a compact little guy but Dustin's certainly not. To say they're crammed in there would be an understatement but they manage. Dustin forgets to look where he's supposed to look, far too preoccupied with staring at the little blond planted on his lap. "King for a day." Jim laughs, flashes Dustin a huge, vibrant smile as he points to the novelty crown on his head.

Maybe Dustin's going soft? Maybe he had more wine than he thought? Maybe they've spent a little too much time together the last few days? Maybe. Maybe not. All Dustin knows is it's easier for him to blame the urge to kiss Jim right in this photo booth on one of those things instead of being honest with himself and admitting he has feelings for the guy.

"Maybe Jim shouldn't have such pretty pink lips if I can't kiss him." Definitely can't say that out loud. Hold on. Rewind. Go back to the beginning. Jim's drunk and smiling and the booth is still snapping pictures of them. "Say something that doesn't involve his lips, you moron!"

Easier said than done. Dustin's brain makes it sound so simple. The truth is it's really difficult, borderline impossible to stop thinking about his pretty mouth. Jim's still looking at him so Dustin smiles back, reaches over and brushes his fingertips across Jim's cheek. "You're always a king to me, baby." Why the fuck did he say that? He would have been better off just kissing Jim. Jim just laughs, a huge, easy laugh that goes on until the little voice in the booth tells them to wait outside for their pictures to process. Jim climbs off his lap and the moment is over, gone, finished just as quickly as it came. Oh well. Maybe next time. It's not like Dustin's going to forget he wants to kiss him anytime soon.

They're so drunk at the conclusion of their night at Medieval Times they need to leave Dustin's car there and catch a cab home. Whatever. He'll have someone drive him back so he can pick it up in the morning. They had fun. No harm done. A friend gives them both a lift to pick up Dustin's shitty old car and they're already out so they kick off Tuesday by going out for brunch. It's a lot pricier than the greasy spoon diner by Dustin's place and they'll both be broke by the time they're done celebrating but that doesn't really matter does it? Birthdays only come once a year and today is literally Jim's birthday. It's Jim day.

They're full of delicious food by the time they're through and stop at a liquor store to buy supplies for mimosas to drink at home because they both agreed it'd be the cheaper route. They're not trying to get hammered, just sip throughout the day and maintain a nice buzz until it's time to head to the bar. It's Tuesday. Fuck, when did they start this again? Who cares. It's Tuesday. It's Jim Day. It's not until almost midnight on Tuesday that Dustin realizes neither one of them has bothered to talk to a single girl all weekend. Huh. Weird.

Shortly after midnight they toast with a couple shots of whiskey. They call it a night before last call and pick up the most unhealthy food they can find on the way back to Dustin's place, devour it while relaxing on his couch. That's where they fall asleep too, Jim slumped over in a heap on Dustin's shoulder, Dustin simply smiling before putting an arm around the little guy and drifting off shortly after.

Wednesday is pretty chill. Jim's actual birthday has passed and they've been going pretty hard for the last few days. Dustin's suggestion to hit up the grocery store and make dinner at his place is half because they're almost broke and half because they're both sorta worn out. Jim agrees, seems happy about it if Dustin's being honest and that's a relief. He's not much of a cook but for Jim he'll make an exception. It is his birthday, or was his birthday. It may never end, may never stop being his birthday.

They leave the dirty dishes in the sink and waste the rest of the night playing video games, stay up damn near long enough to see the sunrise before they remember it'd be a good idea to get some sleep. It's strange watching Jim curl up on the couch that final time. Dustin knows he's got to go home at some point. The guy doesn't live in Philly, doesn't live here. He's got a life to go back to. He can't just spend all his time hanging out, that's ridiculous. Dustin knows it's completely, utterly ridiculous but he wants Jim to stay. He can't stay.

When they finally wake up on Thursday Dustin is oddly nervous, uneasy. They've never spent such a long stretch together, this is easily the most he's seen of Jim, the most time they've shared since they became friends. It's difficult to admit to himself but Dustin liked it. He liked having Jim around. He liked what he saw. Yeah, they were already friends, best friends but it seems different now and Dustin isn't sure what to do with that knowledge, that feeling.

Time for Jim to leave comes quickly. Before Dustin's had an opportunity to process everything that transpired from the time Jim got to his place Friday afternoon to now Jim's ready to make the trip home. It sucks. There's got to be another excuse, another reason to ask Jim to stay, right? No. He can't do that. He won't do that. Jim can't stay. His birthday has passed. Back to normal, regular life. He'll see Jim in a couple weeks for the next show anyway. He can't stay.

Dustin's not expecting Jim to hug him goodbye. Normal people, friends hug goodbye all the time, he's not sure why it comes as a surprise when Jim's hands are on the back of his neck and the little guy is mumbling something about how much fun he had, thanking Dustin. "You're welcome. Happy birthday." Dustin barely manages to say. Fuck, he's such an idiot. He's not even hugging Jim back. He really should do that.

He does hug Jim back after a few awkward moments, squeezes him a bit too tight judging by that little noise Jim just made. Why else would he make a sound like that? Dustin eases up, lets go of his waist and looks down at his little blond friend. Yeah, this sucks. What, like he's supposed to spend almost six full days with a guy like Jim and not be bothered when it's time for him to leave? He can't stay.

He can't stay but Dustin's not about to let Jim escape without joking around with him one last time. "So, same thing next year? Holy shit, your birthday is gonna fall on a Wednesday next year! Lame. A birthday on a Wednesday is even worse than one on a Tuesday. Gross, dude."

"Shut up. Your birthday rolls around first, remember? Let's plan for that first."

"Deal."

[hatake-no-sharingan]

The Jinchuuriki (Minato x Reader)

Summary: Canon divergent AU. Danzo steals the two Uzumaki sisters from their village and seals the Kyuubi inside one of them. He separates them and keeps the Jinchuuriki captive in the Root headquarters. When she grows up alone, until the Hokage orders Danzo to have her trained to fight. Her new tutor arrives, and he’s nothing like she expected. He’s kind and he cares for her. His name is Minato.

Characters: Y/N (Female Reader as the Jinchuuriki), Minato, Danzo, and Kushina

A/N: To the lovely @itsao-mine for requesting and waiting so long, I apologize, you’re my most loyal reader. I hope you really do enjoy this, because it took me so long to write. I think it’s a warm story that you’ll like. To everyone else, I hope you love this story too. I apologize in advance for my incompetence in writing fight scenes. Remember requests are open. Enjoy and be kind <3

Word Count: 4,624

The Jinchuuriki

“From now on, you’re not sisters anymore” you didn’t understand what the man was saying. His face instilled a deep fear in you, as you imagined farfetched stories about how he got that ugly scar on his chin. His uncovered eye made you uneasy, and the covered one, even more.

You clutched Kushina’s hand tighter with your own small one, and looked at her in search of the reassurance that this man was lying.

You and your sister had been plucked from your home, your village, and everything you knew by this man and brought to the Leaf Village without any explanation about it. The only thing you knew was that something in your Uzumaki lineage made you the perfect vessel for a weapon that the Leaf Elders were desperate to keep and control. Your 8 year old brain didn’t fully grasp what this meant, but Kushina and you’d overheard that in a conversation two of the ANBU ninjas had on your way to your new village.

You noticed a streak of sadness cross your sister’s face and your stomach twisted inside you. The man, Danzo they called him, harshly grabbed both yours and your sister’s wrists and tore your hands apart. He handed each of you to a masked ninja, a rabbit and a bear, and you never saw each other again.

They put you through the worst nightmare you couldn’t even have imagined. They locked you up in a dark room, and when they finally let you see light, it was only to painfully seal a demon in you, using the techniques stolen from your family.

You felt the beast stir inside you at night. Now, alone, you cried yourself to sleep and imagined Kushina’s arms wrapped around you, her soft voice singing slightly off-key the lullaby your aunt had taught you, while the personification of hate growled from within your gut.

The first months were pure hell to you, you’d go on rampages and destroy everything in sight, using the beast’s chakra and your own rage. This earned you being put in a cell and chained with chakra suppressing metals. Then, it was just you and him. The Kyuubi became your only company, aside from the guard who slipped your food through the slot once a day who’d never even glanced at you.

The Kyuubi hated you and you hated him, however you soon discovered that you both hated Danzo and Root, the people who’d turned him into a weapon and you into a vessel, even more. The realization brought you two closer. Eventually, he saw himself in your pain and told you that as you were missing a sister, he was missing siblings too.

They’d also been turned into weapons, and you assumed, that wherever Kushina was, she was probably being used to meet this organization’s needs. Though a part of you still liked to imagine that while you were here, she was back home. Her skin soaking up the rays of the sun, her beautiful red hair flowing with the wind, as she ran across the village, to the place where you’d both built a tree house and told stories about other worlds you’d one day go to.

“Listen to me, child” the beast, no, Kurama, told you “I’m willing to lend you my power if you’ll use it carefully and wisely. Only if you promise me, swear to me, that you’ll use it to destroy those who wronged us” and with that, you sealed your fate.

After that day, you became the docile Jinchuuriki Danzo wanted you to be, and earned his trust.

One day, we are going to bite back  and he won’t notice until it’s too late.

That was 13 years ago.

Danzo had brought someone who trained you as a medical ninja. You didn’t know their name, not even what their face looked like, it was always fully covered, and you knew they were holding back in their teachings.  You helped your teacher heal the injured Root members who came back from missions, serving only as a minor assistant. They had only taught you how to do basic things like heal cuts faster or mend a broken bone, but they never let you learn any just that required a large amount of chakra usage. Still, you obeyed silently.

You were almost sure Danzo no longer saw you as a threat, and the many years that had passed since you last had a rampage, put him in a comfortable spot. However you were still surprised when he appeared in your room just before you were going to sleep and announced

“The Hokage and the elders are pressuring me by saying that it’s about time you learned to defend yourself, after all, you just turned 21 and you don’t know much about fighting. Tomorrow a ninja sent by them will be coming to start training you here on grounds. He’ll be staying here as long as it takes for you to be at least competent in deflecting a few attacks. However, this won’t be free for you. If you want to train, you’d better get information about Sarutobi from him, and pass it on to me. I can’t refuse their orders, but I can’t help it if you have some sort of accident that puts you in a temporary physical (idk the word for this)”

Your blood runs cold in your veins. You know he wasn’t joking, when he made a threat he went through with it. You just nodded and assured him that you’d try to get any information for him. He left as fast as he came, and spent the rest of the night imagining what your new tutor would be like.

Would they be as impersonal as your medical tutor? Without an identity? A name? Or would it be someone as scary as Danzo? That would make it hard for you to get the information you had to pass on to him. You couldn’t lose this chance to train. It was the moment you and Kurama had been waiting for.

When you enter the training room you expect so many things, except what you see. A cheerful smile meets your sight, bright yellow hair with the ability to light the whole room up, and a silky warm voice.

“You must be Y/N” he says “so pleased to meet you. I’m Minato and I’ll be tutoring you under the Hokage’s orders.”

You’re shocked to be met with such kindness. It’s been so long since someone spoke to you like you were an actual person, that you don’t really know what to say.

“Do you have any previous knowledge on controlling chakra or doing any sort of jutsu? I just want to know where to start so you feel comfortable.”

Again, you stay silent. Nobody has thought about your wellbeing in so long, and this stranger is worried about you feeling uncomfortable. He’s perceptive, so he notices your stiff posture and your nerves.

“Hey it’s okay, we don’t have to do much today. You can just walk around the room and play a bit with the equipment so you get used to it. I’ll just stay in a corner until you feel more comfortable in my presence.”

“No—“ you quickly say “walk around with me. Please. Show me how to be a Kunoichi.”

“Alright” he chuckles a bit. “Let me show you the ninja packs first.”

He reaches for one of them and proceeds to pull out a few weapons. He names all of them to you and lets you hold them.

Then he explains a few basic concepts on fighting and has you do some simple exercises to control chakra. Since you know medical ninjutsu, it’s easy for you, but at the end of the practice, you’re still tired.

The first training session gave you a feeling of intrigue, and you start looking forward to the rest. Each day, you start enjoying it more and you get better.

Minato is a patient and determined teacher, and he starts becoming the only friend you’ve had.

You two start joking around during the sessions, and time flies by while you’re with him.

He has you practice different concepts, and also train your body so you have more physical endurance.

When he sees you getting better, he starts challenging you to different competitions. Some test strength, others speed, and your favorite, strategical thinking, Minato almost always wins, but you’re satisfied to notice you’re getting better each time.

Once he challenges you to a race, and he takes you outside for it, but the middle of the way, you step on a rock and twist your ankle.

“Damn! Next time I’ll get ya! Yaknow??” You shout after him.

He comes back to scoop you up from the ground. You thought it was such a gentlemanly action, until you hear him let out a loud laughter.

“Why are you laughing?” You ask, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Nothing bad I swear” he chuckles again “It’s just, the way you talk. It reminds me of a good friend of mine. Actually you remind me a lot of her. She’s as feisty as you, and also very talented.”

He says as he carries you back.

“Kushina” you whisper. “She’s alive”

“What? You know her?” A single tear rolls down your cheek.

“I once knew her.” You say simply “Can you tell me more about her?”

His heart softens when he sees your pleading eyes.

“Sure, if you want me to. I don’t really know what to say though” he starts.

You arrive at your room and he settles you down on the bed.

“Is she happy?”

“I guess so. She’s a fighter. She used to get bullied, for her red hair” You remember how her soft strands felt in your fingers. All your childhood you’d envied her beautiful hair, now you longed to run your hands through it once more. You couldn’t believe people would make fun of her for such a beautiful trait. “She kicked all their asses though, and she made friends. True ones.”

“Like you?”

“Yeah”

He spent the whole evening telling you stories about your sister, making you laugh like you hadn’t done in so long. He brought you sweets he stole from the kitchen, as he went to pick up more ice for your ankle, and he stayed with you, to help you heal.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you got injured today, so we can still see each other tomorrow”

You smile and nod. If Danzo knew you couldn’t train, he’d bar you from your time with Minato. He already tried to reduce your training time too much, only because Minato insisted you needed more practice, arguing that it was harder for you to learn these things as an adult.

You rest for three days. Minato is more than happy to share more stories about your sister, and also some about his three young students he’s very attached to.

“Kakashi is full of sadness, but he has a huge heart. Obito is a bit clumsy, but he’s the full spirit of the team, he’ll do great things someday. Finally, Rin is the glue holding them together, she’s reliable and kind. You’d love them.” All this kept you wondering what life was like outside these quarters. Minato’s stories were full of magic, and they made you so happy. He tends to you perfectly and then in a flash, your ankle is as good as new. He starts training you again, and it becomes your favorite time of the day. You can feel your body get stronger each time. He lets you practice different types of jutsu and you’re happy to discover that while they’re challenging, it’s very rewarding to master them. The confidence between you and your tutor grows, as well as your own self confidence. Maybe your goal of fighting your captor is closer than you think.

“Why do they keep you here?” He asks puzzled after you finish taking down one of his shadow clones with the shuriken jutsu he taught you “Why didn’t you go to the academy, and instead waited until this age to learn how to fight? You’re clearly a natural, it would’ve helped so much if we could have gotten you on a shinobi team.”

“Minato, there’s something I need to tell you.” The words scrape your throat, but you gather the courage to spit them out anyway “I’m being kept here as a prisoner, ever since I was chosen as the nine tails jinchuuriki”

He furrows his brow, clearly not understanding what you just said. Fear crawls through your veins and you instantly regret saying that. He’ll stop seeing me the same way now.

“Kushina is the Jinchuuriki”

“No, that’s not possible, there’s only one Kurama, and it’s sealed inside me”

“Everyone in the village knows she’s the Jinchuuriki, Y/N, even the Hokage has acknowledged it” he says it with such certainty that you almost believe it for a minute. Maybe the beast inside you was imaginary all along, but then he goes pale. Pale as if he’d seen a ghost, no, worse, as if he’d just found an answer to this confusion.

“No, the Hokage is the one who ordered Danzo to keep me here.”

Minato pauses for a second

“Y/N, I need you to do something for me,” there’s not much you feel you can do but you nod once, waiting for his instruction “can you call the Kyuubi forth and let him speak to me?” “His name is Kurama, he doesn’t like being called Kyuubi” you snap, and then clasp a hand over your mouth as you realize how rude you’re being to the only person that you know who truly cares about you.

“It’s okay, I know it’s hard. Don’t worry about me” he smiles and warmth spreads in your chest “I’ll be kind to him”

You believe him, and Kurama does too, so you switch.

“Kid” he says simply

“So it’s true”

“It depends”

“On what?”

“On what you think is the truth”

“The truth is that Y/N is the real Jinchuuriki, and that Danzo lied to the Hokage and the whole village by telling them Kushina was your vessel. The fact here is that the Jinchuuriki out there is a lie, and he’s keeping the real one hidden”

“You’re a smart one, and yes, there’s truth among your words.  The question is, are you going to stop Danzo before he turns us into a weapon with no self control? I can lend Y/N my power, but I can’t fight for her if she doesn’t make her body strong first. If she doesn’t learn how to properly control chakra, it’ll be for nothing”

Kurama switches with you again, and the worried expression in Minato’s face triggers something in you.

He explains everything to you. Root has been telling everyone including the Hokage your sister is the Jinchuuriki, while keeping you hidden here. Most likely Danzo has a plan to use you later to gain more power. The realization makes your stomach drop to your knees.

“I’m scared” you say.

“Shh as long as I’m with you, you’ll be okay. I’ll protect you. We’ll stop Danzo together, the only thing we need to do is make your body stronger, but it’ll be easy since you’re already naturally talented.”

You feel so confident because of him, that without thinking you press your lips against his. He’s startled for a second, but then he moves, responding to your body. With that kiss, you give yourself to him. His hands travel to your waist, holding you tight, telling you, you’re something he’s not willing to lose.

You tangle your hands in his hair, and he utters a soft groan in response. Encouraged, you deepen the kiss and press your warm body closer to his. Your tongues dance hot around one another, coordinating perfectly between longing and pleasure. You stroke his neck, then grasp the collar of his shirt. His hands start to travel under your shirt, sending an ecstatic feeling through your body. You moan, thrusting your hips forward, needing to feel his touch everywhere. But when he realizes what he’s doing, he breaks the kiss, leaving your mouth cold with his own mouth’s absence.  

He presses his forehead against yours, and stares deeply into your eyes, seeing right through to your very soul. His eyes transport you to a place where nothing can touch you, where you feel safe.

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.”

“Minato, I want you. I want this. Please.”

You see a golden spark in his eyes, and he smiles relieved, it’s clear he wants this as much as you.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything”

You always thought being touched by someone would be scary, but now, standing with him here, desire overcomes you. Love, overcomes you. He is the person you want to spend every single moment of the day with, and give it all to. Something in you knows

“Promise me that if you feel unsafe, or it hurts, or you simply don’t want to do it anymore, you’ll tell me.”

How much he cares for you makes your heart melt, you nod, giving him the confirmation he needs, and this time it’s him who initiates the kiss. Just like that, in a small corner of the training room where nobody can see you and nobody can hear you, where it’s just you two, Minato makes your inexperienced, touch starved body, feel loved for the first time.

The month passes in a breeze. You keep training together, and gaining more control over your own body.  Minato says that you’re learning at an extraordinary speed, but part of it, you owe it to Kurama. He’s been lending you chakra and helping you every step, and you feel the bond between you get stronger.

Aside from that, Minato has been feeling uneasy by the discovery on Danzo’s deception, however he couldn’t report anything until he knew more.

Spying on Danzo proved less difficult than he initially thought it would be. He knew Danzo felt confident here in his territory, and though he’d mistrusted him since he arrived on the Hokage’s orders, Danzo thought he was being smarter than Minato. That’s why he’d grown careless, and now as Minato was walking back to his quarters, he heard a subordinate address the man.

“Lord Danzo, I have disturbing news for you”

Minato walked closer to the room to hear better, effectively disguising himself against the wall.

“What is it this time? Can we deal with it?” Danzo replied.

“It’s the Jinchuuriki”

Minato’s heart stopped for a second at the mention of you.

“What in the world has that cursed girl done now?” he says with an annoyed sigh “She’s been more trouble than she’s worth”

His subordinate kept quiet, unsure if he should go on with the report.

“Well? Out with it” Danzo ordered, exasperated.

“She’s…” the subordinate trembles, in response to the rage he already feels coming “pregnant”

Minato’s brain goes blank, all that he can think of now is getting you and his unborn child out of here.

Danzo’s visible eye rages, but his demeanor remains calm.

“We just found out, during her routine check up.” The ninja explains.

“But how?” Danzo asks, more to himself than to the other person, after a few seconds it dawns on him “That damned Minato. It seems he’s not only training our weapon.”

The old man thinks for a bit, then says

“Bring the other girl. It’s about time we got rid of this one. After all she’s been nothing but a disappointment.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get everything ready to extract and seal the beast into the new vessel tonight. Oh and don’t tell Sarutobi anything. After all, he thinks the girl we have here is the back up. We’ll just say she died under mysterious circumstances, and turn the one he thinks is the Jinchuuriki into the actual Jinchuuriki. Nobody needs to know I’ve had the Kyuubi hidden here all along.”

Minato has no more time. He has to do something before they hurt you.

Stay calm, he tells himself. He takes a deep breath, and when his hands stop shaking, he teleports to your room, where you are already getting into bed.

“Minato?” You say at the sight of him “What are you doing here? If Danzo knows you’re here he’ll punish us both”

“Y/N, we don’t have much time, you’re in danger”

“What? What do you mean? Why?”

“Do you feel different somehow? Physically I mean”

“Well, I haven’t really thought about it. I guess I’ve been more tired than usual, and I’ve had a bit of nausea, but it’s because of the strain my body’s been through with the training, right? It happens to everybody. Plus I just had my regular check up with the other medical ninjas and they said I was fine.”

“Y/N, I really hate to tell you the news this way, because it should be something happy, but, I just overheard Danzo and another shinobi talking. You’re pregnant.”

Your body feels numb, and the whole world starts spinning around you.

“I’m what?” You whisper. Tears have started flowing and you place your hands on your belly. The only thing you can feel now is fear, for the little life growing inside of you, product of the deep love Minato and you feel for each other.

“Hey beautiful, be happy.” He reaches out and wipes the tears from your cheeks “We’re going to raise this child together, I promise, we’ll get married and Kushina can be your bridesmaid. You’ll be together again. I’m going to get you both out of here now, but we need to act fast.”

You don’t spare another moment, you trust him completely, so you’re willing to do anything he tells you. You look at him determined.

“I trust you. Let’s do it, but let me fight too, I know I’m strong enough now.”

“But the baby”

This time it’s Kurama who answers

“Will be fine. I’ll make a shield of chakra and he’ll be protected. Both Y/N and him.” Minato thanks him, and you also feel grateful towards the creature who’s been living inside you for so long. You can’t believe how close you’ve grown to him, he’s not a weapon and you won’t let Danzo turn him into one.

You take Minato’s hand and he teleports the two of you to the entrance of the  Root Headquarters.

Danzo and a dozen of his Root subordinates are already there waiting for you.

“I knew you’d try to steal my tailed beast once you found out I had it here. I just didn’t know you’d put a brat in his vessel. You’re a quick one, Yellow Flash” Danzo mocks Minato. “However, you can’t teleport your way out of here. You know my barrier blocks all of your markers outside of it.”

Minato’s grip on your hand tightens, but you see he’s still calm, not playing into Danzo’s game.

“I’m sorry, but you won’t be taking my best weapon tonight. The new vessel is already on her way, and by the time she arrives, this one and your unborn kid will be dead. Seize them and start the extraction of the beast.” He orders his fighters.

A dozen of the most skilled, battle seasoned ninja charge towards you and though you thought you’d be ready for this, you find yourself frozen.

A glance from Minato, however, gives you all the courage you need.

“I know you can do it. Just remember what we did during training. I’ve got your back.”

So, the fighting starts.

Minato moves gracefully, only aiming to injure, not to kill. Preserving his rage only for Danzo. In just a few minutes, he manages to disable 4 enemies, giving you two the advantage.

You’re less agile than him, which is understandable, due to your inexperience, but Kurama’s strength makes up for it. You only manage to fight off one enemy, using the jutsu Minato taught you, realizing just how effective it is and feeling proud of yourself for being able to defend the attacks.

While you’re fighting his ninja, Danzo is only watching from afar. It seems his confidence diminishes with each shinobi that is taken down by you, but it’s not enough to wipe the smug smile from his face.

With trouble, you take on two more enemies, barely getting by. You wipe a little blood from your face, and reach instinctively towards your stomach, as if the gesture could reassure the baby everything would be alright.

Minato, already finished with the other Root agents, charges towards Danzo and engages in a fight with him.

The old man is more skilled than you’d imagined. Their bodies move at a fast speed, and you can barely keep up with what’s happening. The fight is too confusing for you to follow, but at some point you’re able to notice that Minato has a slight advantage. Younger, faster, and more skilled, the man you love is giving everything to protect his family against the man who would kill you.

Suddenly there’s a flash of red, and you can’t tell whose blood it is.

Your heart stops.

Minato is on the ground, pale and bleeding from a large cut on his back.

“Y/N stay away!” He shouts

You don’t understand how Danzo managed to hurt him this way, but you don’t care.

You call Kurama, and feel his power rushing through you.

Your mind goes blank with anger, and hot chakra seeps out of you, transforming you into a small version of the Kyuubi.

Then you attack Danzo with all your might.

It’s over in a few seconds. His body is barely recognizable after you’re finished with him.

You go back to being yourself, kurama’s power retreating into you.

Your body feels heavy and then you lose consciousness.

When you open your eyes again, there’s a bright light in your face. You rub your eyes and try to adjust.

“Minato?”

“He’s alive, Y/N” a familiar voice says “Thankfully you three are alive. Nobody can hurt you anymore”

“Kushina” you say as her soft hand reaches rub your belly “I’ve missed you so much”

“And I’ve missed you, little sister” she replies “There’s so much I have to tell you and so much you have to tell me, but all in due time. The good thing is you’re awake now and in good hands. We’re in the Konoha hospital, there’s only kind people here”

You can see her face now. She’s grown to become so beautiful, and you experience a type of peace you haven’t felt in so long.

“Minato is already in rehabilitation, he’s very strong, yaknow? That’s why the baby you’re carrying survived, must be his Namikaze genes combined with your Uzumaki ones”

“Kushina, I’d like you to be the baby’s godmother. I want us to be a family again”

She grips your hand tighter in response and nods happily

“Of course we will be”

Days later, when you’re finally out of the hospital, Minato and you get married in a small ceremony. Only his closest friends, his three students –Kakashi, Obito and Rin– and your sister are present, but that is all you need. You wear a simple dress that Kushina helped you embroider with a beautiful flowery pattern. You let your hair loose, and put a single white orchid close to your left ear. It’s the happiest day of your life. Minato looks dashing as ever, and he receives you with that wonderful smile of his, ready to join his life to yours forever.

8 months later, you both welcome your son. You decide to name him Naruto.

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES

Member: LEE JUYEON

Genre: angst, fluff, romance, chaebol feels cause i can totally see juyeon as a chaebol who’s self-sustaining idk

A/N: Here’s juyeon in something that looks like a suit/formal wear cause i couldn’t find a gif of him in a suit :”) m sed. i’m also very very very weak for settings that are of high-class and somewhat jazzy/sophisticated/expensive themes. throwing in romance just boosts the bonus points ;”)

Links to other parts:

~

Frustrated (light smut) 

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut) 

you couldn’t help but to smile softly at the sound of your colleagues lowkey dissing the hell out of your boss. you’ve been working at this law firm for nearly half a year now, and nearly nobody working in the building has any clue how your boss looks like. 

there wasn’t a single photo of him in the building, and even if there was, the only person who knew how he looked like refused to disclose the information. 

“don’t you find it strange that mr lee sangyeon refuses to tell us how our boss even looks like? surely there’s some portrait of him hanging somewhere in the office,” you look at chanhee who was on the verge of spitting his food out in the midst of aggressively complaining. 

you laugh, using your tongue and cleaning the small bits of tomato and lettuce from your teeth, watching sunwoo grab a napkin. you expected him to wipe his mouth before going off on a diss, but he just crumples it in his hand and says whatever he wanted to say.

“i asked him before and he said that we’d gossip about him if we knew who he really was. all i know is that he hasn’t been in the building since his father gave him the law firm.”

“huh?” chanhee’s eyes were wide open and staring at sunwoo upon the new information. “don’t tell me... so he’s just a chaebol who thinks he doesn’t need to work just ‘cause his father owns the company? wha... this guy is really something else...”

you exchange glances with eric, who had been silent alongside you and listening to the conversation. 

“if you google the law firm and his father’s name, only his father’s name comes up,” sunwoo pulls up his phone, mouth still chewing on the last bit of his pasta.

“oh! what’s his name? are there any pictures of him?” chanhee leaned towards the younger, trying to take a look at the phone screen while sunwoo googles the name.

“ah, he’s only been referred to as the son of his father... no pictures of him...” 

chanhee bares his teeth in disappointment, pulling away and returning his attention to his food. 

“what’s the internet good for if we can’t even find the information we need...”

you chuckle, taking a sip from your coffee. 

the last six months you’ve been working here, you’ve been clearing every case with ease. you’ve worked with chanhee, sunwoo and with eric on the latest one, and you’ve won every case you needed to turn up in court for. 

but all those wins were at the expense of your sleep and alone time. 

there was nothing for you to worry about though, mr lee sangyeon has already given you feedback that you were doing well anyway.

but you couldn’t help but wonder: just who is your boss?

you, chanhee, eric and sunwoo entered the company in the same batch six months ago, and since then your boss has not once stepped into the building. what was strange was that nobody else has spoken about him. it almost seemed like every other employee under the law firm was either terrified to even speak of him, or that they were simply clueless. 

you’ve tried digging the information from the colleague sitting next to your cubicle: lee jaehyun. 

but never does he once budge. all he’s ever done when you ask about your phantom boss was shake his head and tell you not to ask anybody else about him. you’ve tried to ask if he was a scary boss or that he’s never even seen him before, but he shooed you away and told you to focus on your cases instead.

the week passes in a flash, with a new case you’ve been working on with chanhee that’s been holding the both of you back in office till late hours was killing you. if it wasn’t for mr lee sangyeon shutting off all the electricity in the office, you and chanhee would’ve probably spent the night there. 

“the both of you are allowed to report to office at 10 am tomorrow. you guys get two hours discount because i know this case is pretty tough. it’s your first business lawsuit, right?”

chanhee’s eyes were rolled back so far in his head that he looked drunk, so you take the initiative to respond by nodding with whatever energy you had left in you. 

“okay. good job for now. go home,” the manager taps on chanhee’s shoulders and jerks him a little. “go home or the both of you are fired!” 

chanhee shoots up at the word “fired”, only bowing in apology before the both of you gets chased out of the office. 

THE NEXT MORNING

“GOOOOOOD MOR--”

“shut the fuck up!” 

you turn your head sharply at sunwoo who hissed at you. he was seated near the entrance of the office, so he was the first person to hear you push open the doors like you were entering heaven.

“well, that’s not very kind of yo--”

“he’s fucking here, you dumbwit!” sunwoo has a finger pressed to his lips and a look of urgency cemented into his face. frankly, he looked like he was in pain. 

eric, who was sitting right next to him, looks at both you and chanhee and shakes his head gently. 

you look around the office, and you notice everybody’s heads were dipped into their laptops and case files. it was so quiet, it’ll be an understatement if you said you could hear a pin drop. 

“i’m sorry, who’s here?” you frown at sunwoo, frowning a little while you remember you didn’t bother wearing a brooch. it wasn’t compulsory, but mr lee sangyeon has mentioned before that it was an office tradition. you note that nobody else has the brooch on besides chanhee and lee jaehyun. 

“oh my god, you’re a fucki--”

“oh!” you hear your manager call out. you and chanhee react to the enthusiastic greeting, and you see your manager walking along the larger offices and around the cubicles where you worked. “the both of you are here! i was beginning to worry you were going to be late.”

mr lee sangyeon stops about two metres before you, hands in his pocket. you notice he has a brooch on his breast pocket, and you don’t remember him ever wearing it. 

“why don’t the two of you settle down for a bit, and around...” he looks at his watch. “ten thirty? meet me outside the CEO’s office.”

you hear chanhee hiccup at the instruction. though you were a lawyer yourself, you take longer than necessary to process the information.

“huh?” you blurt out. you notice sunwoo facepalming in the corner of your eye while your manager had the stiffest smile on his face. “the... the CEO?”

“yes, the CEO.”

you hear chanhee stammer a little bit. “uh... i... did we do anything wrong? are we getting fired? why are we going to the CEO’s of--”

“oh, no! none of that,” your manager bursts into laughter and waves his hand in your faces. “the CEO was just looking through the case files and he thinks this one is going to be tricky. he’s thinking of helping the both of you through it!”

your face doesn’t move, but your eyes turn to look at chanhee who was now standing right next to you.

the ceo hasn’t even been in the damn building since he got the law firm. who does he think he is, thinking of helping us ‘through it’?

“oh, don’t sweat it! he’s not as bad as people say, trust me.”

you force out a weak smile, noticing sunwoo giving you two thumbs-up without smiling. it was as if he was sending you off to your death.

“ohmygod we’re gonna get fired we’re gonna get fired ohmyjesus we’re going to get fired we’regonnagetfi--”

“shut your trap, would you?” you whisper harshly, punching chanhee lightly in his arm. the both of you were standing outside the CEO’s office, the digital clock in the corner of the space displaying 1027.

“mr lee already said we’re not getting fired, so stop freaking out on me!” you urge him to collect himself as you hear the door of your manager’s door click open.

“when you’re inside, just address him with ‘sir’ and mr lee if you’re talking to me, okay?” your manager grins widely at you. you absorb his demeanor, only now realising that he must’ve known that the ceo was going to come into office today. there was no other reason why he chose today to wear the brooch. 

“relax, and just hear him out carefully with whatever he says, okay? the both of you will be fine as long as i’m around.”

you frown to yourself, and you could almost hear chanhee get a whole asthma attack behind you.

‘you’ll be fine as long as i’m around’? is this guy a wolf or vampire or something?

your manager turns and knocks on the frosted glass, and you turn to notice a vague, dark shadow standing inside. 

“come in.”

your manager pushes the door open, and chanhee pushes you to enter the office first.

the first thing you notice was the scent of the space once you were inside. 

there was a light scent that reminded you of the mountains and trees whenever you went hiking. the scent of dew, pine trees and fresh air was the only thing you could smell. 

the next thing you noticed was how incredibly neat and large the office was. you’ve never stepped into this office before, and though mr lee sangyeon’s was right next to this office, it looked like it was easily double the size of his. 

“go easy on them,” your manager’s voice snapped you back to reality. you found yourself standing awkwardly behind the chairs that looked expensive on its own. “don’t scare my newbies, please.”

you hear your manager laugh. your eyes travel from the orientation of the room and it’s black and golden-brown colors to see the man that sent the entire office into complete silence since you’ve stepped in, and you nearly lost your grip on all the files you had in your arm. 

“why?” your boss laughs as he turns around from the shelf behind his desk, placing a file on the surface before looking at you and chanhee. “there’s no reason for them to be scared as long as they haven’t done anything wrong.”

you blink multiple times, forgetting that anybody might’ve thought you had something in your eye if they saw it. your boss looked even younger than your manager, and he wasn’t even in a suit.

he was in a blue blazer with silver buttons, with a button down top underneath and black pants with his hair waxed upwards. had you not known this man was your boss, you would’ve thought he was some random guy who broke into his office. you were expecting someone in his mid thirties or something, so seeing someone barely a few years older than you standing in the office labelled ‘CEO’ was difficult to swallow.

“choi chanhee, right?” he first looks at your friend, fingers mindlessly fiddling with each other behind the files he was holding in his hands. chanhee quickly bows. you observe carefully as his eyes travel from chanhee to you. 

“you... you’re the one who’s closed like, three cases in the six months you were here, right?” he tilts his head while he asks the question. you bow cautiously with your hand over your chest.

“i only let them take up this case because they both stood out to me the most,” your manager pulls out both chairs at the table, gesturing to the both of you to sit. the ceo smiles, turning and leaning his rear against the edge of the table. he looks out the window behind his desk and beside the shelf, watching the city pass by second by second. 

your manager gets the both of you settled in the seats like a parent, and you watch as chanhee tries his best to speak with his eyes. 

your manager shakes his head lightly, only to pat chanhee on his shoulder. 

“don’t you dare scare them!” your manager warns the ceo. he looks over his shoulder and nods without a smile. chanhee looks worriedly at your manager leaving the office, physically uneasy as the door shuts with a click. 

there was a heavy, awkward silence that hung in the air while both you and chanhee watch your ceo stare out of the window. you couldn’t even see his face because all you were looking at were the creases on his back. 

“the first rule i need you two to follow if we are to work together is professionalism,” his voice startles you, but he doesn’t turn around. “meaning that whatever obstacles that come by, we discuss it as a team. the company that filed for this lawsuit, objectively speaking, was in the wrong. it’s highly likely that we’ll lose as the defendant if we make one small mistake.”

you hear chanhee gulp, and if it was loud enough for you to hear, your ceo probably heard it too. 

he finally pushes himself off the desk and turns around, pulling out the chair so he was now sitting facing the both of you. 

his eyes were so focused, so serious, that you realise now why your manager hasn’t said anything about him to any of you newbies. 

he was intimidating and there was a look of sheer determination in him that would’ve scared the balls out of certain people. lee jaehyun was probably one of them. 

your manager must’ve told anybody who has already met him to keep quiet about his intimidating personality. 

but... where the hell has he been the last six months? and was he even qualified to be giving us this speech?

“the second thing i need the both of you to know is that this isn’t going to be an easy case. i’m going to need the both of you to commit to it right now, and if you can’t just be honest. i’m not going to fire you just because you’re worried about losing a difficult case in the first six months you’re working here.”

you purse your lips, confident that you were going to get through this, even if it meant losing. 

chanhee doesn’t agree though.

“actually,” you snap your head to glare at chanhee when he opens his mouth. your ceo leans back in his seat, his face a lack of emotion. “i can’t deny i’m worried that we’re going to lose the case. i agree that there’s a high chance that we might lose as the defense counsel so--”

“are you nuts?” you interrupt him with a low voice. as if your ceo isn’t going to hear it. “so what if we lose the case?”

“i’m sorry, i just--”

“no, it’s fine, i totally understand,” your ceo shakes his head and leans forward again, resting his arms on the surface of the desk and reaching for the case file. “i know how it feels like to lose a case, even when you know it’s difficult to win.”

you snap your head back to the man sitting opposite you with eyes made of steel, completely forgetting that he was your ceo. 

‘i know how it feels’?

“sangyeon hyung told me that you were exhausted yesterday after working on this case all day, so i’m giving you a chance to walk away and trust me and y/n with it.”

you return your attention to chanhee, your head chanting “no no no no no no please no”

but chanhee gives you an apologetic look. 

you sigh and resign to fate, wanting to bury your face in your palms, but the sound of your ceo clicking on a pen prevents you from doing so. 

“alright, i’ll get the details of the case fixed by the end of the day. before you clock out in the evening, do give it a check and inform me if your name is still on the case in the system.”

he scribbles something in the case file and gives chanhee a look that you couldn’t read. no smile, no nod, nothing. 

“if there’re no further questions then you may leave,” he directs the instruction at chanhee. you look at him with begging eyes, telling him not to ditch you alone with this man. 

you should’ve known chanhee was merciless at heart, and you were on the verge of cursing at him when you see him shoot you a cheeky smile when you watch him escape. 

your eyes remain glued to chanhee’s back as he exits the office, and the frosted glass door takes forever to close.

“anything about the glass door that’s so fascinating to you?” 

you turn your neck so fast at his question that you feel a nerve snap. you wince a little at the pain that shoots up your head, but you manage to collect yourself while he looks through the case file that chanhee left behind. 

“i know what you’re thinking,” he looks up at you through his lashes, and you’ve never seen the whites of someone’s eyes so... glaring. “but i’m very sure you don’t need to concern yourself with whatever those questions or thoughts are.”

he closes the case file and leans forward, so much that you felt the need to lean back into your seat. 

“all you need to know is that i’m here to help you with this case, despite the level of difficulty. and i want you to know that i have faith in you. that even if you lose, you would’ve fought a good fight.”

what in the world is he even talking about now?

he doesn’t give you time to let nonsensical thoughts run through your head. all he does was fumble around in his drawers for some blank paper and he furiously types on his computer.

you weren’t sure if you were just overwhelmed by all the questions that you couldn’t even form in your head, or that he just waltzed in here and took over a case that belonged to you and chanhee. either way, you were completely dumbfounded. 

he prints you a case file sheet, and before you could even read what was on it, he speaks again. 

“just follow that sheet and do whatever you need to do to find the information and details. after you’re done, you will submit it back to me and i’ll hand you the next sheet.”

what?

“i’m sorry, wha--”

“did i say you could ask questions?” he looks at you, writing stopped and the tip of the pen still on a piece of paper in the file. you unconsciously shoot him a dirty look at his response, but you don’t realise it yourself because he doesn’t bother giving you a reaction.

“you may return to your working space. have it done by tonight and get out of the office by 8pm. you will report to me tomorrow at 8am, and if you’re late, you’ll be removed from the case.”

8pm was earlier than the recommended end-of-work time.

you open your mouth to protest, not realising that your face has contorted into a mess of anger and completely disbelief. but he looks up at you again, and if his eyes could talk, you swore they said, shut up and get out.

you swallow your pride, sucking a deep breath so hard that you were sure he could hear it. you stand up, give a polite bow, and turn on your heels to leave his office. 

once the door clicks behind you and you make sure your manager was back in his office, you start mouthing long strings of vulgarities, trembling and shaking within your control. 

“motherfucker-- what the fuck--”

you return to your seat opposite chanhee’s, and sunwoo and eric rush over to you at the sight of your silent tantrum.

“what happened? is he as shitty as we predicted him to be?”

you huff and bury your face into your hands, careful not to let your fingers mess up your hair. 

“i should’ve dropped the damn case, ugh,” you groan, not wanting to engage in a gossip session with sunwoo and eric. chanhee shoos them away to let you work on whatever you were told to do, and you did just that. 

to your dismay, this cycle repeats itself for the next two weeks. 

nothing but filling up case file sheets like it was homework, and your boss never once has a conversation about it with you. you were starting to wonder if he was just feeding you worksheets to help him get through the case because there was nearly nothing else you could think of that he could’ve been working on on his own. 

you were more than happy to be working on this case, and though you were given more time to rest at home, you were losing time with your colleagues. on top of that, it’s not like you went to sleep the moment you got home. you worked on it until your eyes couldn’t bear to stay open, and it wasn’t difficult to notice because sunwoo made fun of your eyebags one week after you started filling up case file worksheets. 

you were ready to storm into his office in strong protest one morning, but your manager breaks the unfortunate news to you on a bright, sunny day.

“excuse me?” your mouth hung agape at the new information. “he wants me to what?”

sunwoo, eric and chanhee look up from their desks and watches as you painfully process the instructions. your manager doesn’t do anything besides continue the rest of the message relayed from your ceo.

“there’ll be a Porsche at the entrance of the building in about an hour’s time, so you should have all things case-related with you when you get into the car.”

you couldn’t believe your fucking ears.

not only was he feeding you worksheets, now you had to fix your work schedule around him?

you were huffing as you searched through his shelves for the case-related items, only to realise there was nothing left of it in his office. you couldn’t be bothered wondering where all the materials were, because everything the case needed had been filled up by you, and he’s probably stashed it somewhere waiting to claim the credit for himself. 

chanhee watches you as you gather every file and sheet of paper case-related from your work space, and you don’t bother finishing your coffee before offering it to chanhee. 

“call the fucking police if i don’t text you by dinner please,” you nearly snap at chanhee, filled with frustration and anger. he laughs at your demise, taking a sip from the coffee you barely drank as you drag yourself to leave the office. 

your suitcase was much heavier than usual with all the case files in it, so you were only grateful that the Porsche’s chauffeur was kind enough to help you get the door open. 

“sorry for needing you to get the door open,” you huff, slightly out of breath as the chauffeur returns to the driver’s seat. you pull the seatbelt over your chest and buckle it, patting down the creases of your pants and blazer. 

“oh, no it’s totally normal! we’ve been instructed to help whoever’s getting into the vehicles mr lee send anyway, regardless of the things they are carrying.”

“uh... mr lee? lee sang yeon?” 

“huh?” the driver looks at your through the rear mirror. his eyes light up once he processes your words and chuckles warmly. “oh, no. mr lee sangyeon is the manager of the law firm. i’m talking about mr lee juyeon, the ceo.”

so that’s his name.

“oh,” you mumble to yourself, looking out the window as the car drives away from the building. “lee juyeon... would’ve been more convincing if lee sangyeon was the one who gave those instructions.”

“did you say something?” 

“uh--” you stutter. 

shit. 

“i--”

“are you one of his lawyers who think that he’s mean and cold and unreasonable?” he smiles at you with a look of mischief in his eyes. 

isn’t he?

asshole.

you struggle to read his expression, because all you could think of was the fact that you were on his way to his home office just because he was ‘unable to be in the office today’.

“judging by your silence, i’m guessing you are one of those people.”

you look away, telling yourself to shut up before you say anything horrible and get yourself fired. 

the chauffeur must’ve picked up on your discomfort, and he doesn’t say anything else the rest of the drive. 

the drive was barely ten minutes compared to the near one hour it took you to travel from your apartment to the office. but what was more shocking to you was where this douchebag lived. 

the Porsche stops at a building in an area that you’ve never stepped foot in, for the sole reason that this was the most expensive building in the city. 

you should’ve expected it, but seeing it for yourself and being physically present made it all the more harder to believe it. 

you were so busy looking up at the building in awe from the inside of the car that you don’t notice the chauffeur get the door open, and someone else comes to get your suitcase for you. 

you now notice both the chauffeur and the man who took your suitcase for you had brooches of the same design but different colors on their blazers. 

you follow the man who took your suitcase into the lift lobby, the chandelier that hung way up above your head was the first thing that you took notice of. the walls and floor were black and gold, and everything else in the lift lobby was either silver or bronze. 

you would’ve totally thought this was a hotel if you didn’t know your ceo lived here. 

you stand in awkward silence as the lift ascends to the top floor, and it takes you a moment to realise that the top floor were all penthouses because the lift stops, and the man presses a button before the doors opens directly into someone’s living room. 

your eyes widen in wonder, and for a moment you believed you were in some sightseeing tower. beyond the living room was a whole glass wall that spanned the length of the living room, allowing you to take in the view of the city. 

there were two flights of stairs on both sides as you exit the lift, and you catch a glimpse of the extremely large television screen mounted onto the wall on the left, and the kitchen on the right. 

you could’ve spent the entire time just gawking at the orientation and the view, but the sound of shoes clacking against the marble floor steals your attention away. 

you turn, your footing now adjacent to the first steps of the stairs on both sides, only to see your boss walking down the steps with a phone held to his ear. 

the man who has your suitcase bows, earning a small nod and wave from your ceo. 

huh, the waving is new. 

the man lays your suitcase down by the table that was sitting on huge rug on the floor in the middle of the living room. you walk over, scanning the expensive looking three-set sofa that surrounded the table, the only empty side facing the television that looked more like a theatre screen up close. 

“i understand,” you watch as your ceo pats the man on his back and send him off, attention still on the conversation on the phone. “i look forward to meeting you next month, mr shin. always an honour working with you.”

you turn back, now looking at the table and the sofas, but your eyes naturally follow the light, and you begin walking to the glass window where the city passes by below your feet. cars were the size of ants and humans looked like specks of dust. 

“you know i just got my windows cleaned yesterday.”

you step back, quickly realising that you were so cooped up with staring at the world outside that you pressed your forehead and nose against the surface of the glass, leaving ugly marks on it. your hands fly up to your mouth, your eyes widening at the sight. 

your first instinct was to reach up with your arm and wipe it off, but your boss was suddenly next to you, his grip on your wrist stopping whatever you wanted to do. 

“it’s fine. leave it be, i’ll get someone to wipe it off later.”

he releases his hold on you and walks away. 

you wince quietly to yourself, mentally berating yourself for being so mindless and careless despite being in his (pent)house while he picks up your suitcase and takes out all the case files. 

“i need you to look through the 3rd and 7th piece over and tell me more about the company’s leases and financial bonds,” he looks through the file and leaves it open on the third sheet, laying it flat on the table. “give me a minute.”

you sit on the sofa, your heels making it difficult to walk on the rug. you watch as he takes two steps at a time up the stairs and disappears behind a wall that you assume was a hallway. 

you spent a whole day staring at each piece of worksheet, so you’ve basically memorised everything about the third and seventh sheet he needed you to look at. 

you wonder why he was wearing an all black fit in the comfort of his own home instead. 

within a minute he was rushing back down the stairs, and in his hand was a file you’ve never seen before. there were so many sheets in it that you wonder if it was just torn right out of a book.

but he lays it down next to yours, and everything in it was case-related with information that you’ve never seen before. 

he lets you look through the sheets in his file, and you can’t help to stare at him with utter confusion. he catches you watching him with a perplexed expression and allows you a few moments before everything clicks in your head.

“you’re a fucking lawyer.”

Part 2: Frustrated

[biwenqing]

So this is for the day three prompt: Social Media AU for Spring Sleuthing over at @tsomdevents! I wrote this fic a while ago, and it fits perfectly for this. But I realized it was going to be more than one chapter. I will continue it once the prompt week is over!

teen | pre-relationship | WIP | ao3 link | formatted as tweets | wc:1767

WZ @theroommatedilema

i made this secret account to live tweet my two oblivious roommates having a quarantine romance. or not. they are idiots. follow to find out will they/won’t they.

he/him | Joined March 2020

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 27 we are starting week 2 of quarantine and i realized i needed to document this. my two roommates who have been dancing around each other since before shit hit the fan are driving me crazy and if i have to watch this the world has to as well.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 27 we need to give them code names because, while i don't think either of them will find this account, best not to tempt fate. so we have 'hot chef' and 'smart aleck'.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 27 all that out of the way, we can now get to the live tweet. hot chef was doing his laundry so he was walking around the apartment shirtless. smart aleck walked into a wall, not once, not twice, but three times. hot chef didn't help this when he put on an apron

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 28 smart aleck started the day by almost burning down our kitchen trying to make breakfast to impress hot chef. luckily i was awake and stopped things before there was a grease fire, before making breakfast myself. they both seemed to like it.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 29 hot chef thinks we should try and exercise, but i think it is cold and slippery out, so if he expects me to join him on his morning runs, he is wrong. smart aleck did make an attempt and i got to watch him wipe out from the window. lucky for him hot chef caught him. yea i know

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 29 follow up to wipe out: hot chef helped smart aleck back into the house and then took care of him, before then still going on his run. smart aleck pouted next to me on the couch, watching out the window for when he came back like a puppy.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 smart aleck has decided he needs to clean and organize the whole apartment. i think he just doesn't want to do his real job. this has led to an argument with hot chef because smart aleck has taken everything out of the kitchen cabinets and messed with his books.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 as a household, we have a pretty solid 'don't touch my stuff' understanding, but that apparently goes all out the window during a pandemic. hot chef keeps all his cooking tools and supplies in a special order that makes sense only to him and i leave it be

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 but smart aleck wants to "help" and didnt ask if anyone wanted help so here we are. don't worry, this account isn't in vain, i can confirm that their argument is more bickering and that bickering is the stereotype of an "old married couple"

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 SA: but you do so much, i wanted to help! HC: if i need help, i'd ask for it SA: *arms crossed* would you? give an example of when you have asked for help. HC: ....i haven't needed help SA: bullshit! remember when you got the flu last year and didn't tell us?

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 SA: you practically passed out before you let WZ and i take you to see a doctor! and then you still argued about us making sure you got the food and fluids and everything you needed so you didn't die! HC: ...i didn't want either of you to get sick

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 SA: oh yes so ignoring the issue really helped? it’s better that you almost died? in case you didn’t already notice, smart aleck is always dramatic.

WZ @theroommatedilema . March 30 for those wondering, smart aleck is not wrong here. this is exactly how events occurred. it was only a few months after I moved in with them. for the fight i think smart aleck somehow won this round. tune in tomorrow for what happens next!

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 4 no updates because they have been pretending to ignore each other and focused on work. hot chef in particular. smart aleck claims it is because hot chef isn’t used to being cared about. he told me this in a deliberate stage whisper.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 4 i think it is important to note that hot chef did still make dinner each night to share... he just went back to his room after.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 5 i got a question asking what we all do for work. that’s classified. and mostly unrelated. though it is how we met in a very odd course of events.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 5 that was not an invitation to send me more questions. i know you are all nosy, or else why would you be following this account. but we have established this account must go unnoticed.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 5 fine. general ages = smart aleck is in his 20s. hot chef is in his 30s. and because you for some reason all want to know: i am also in my 20s.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 5 pets = yes one. smart aleck has a pet cat named goat he inherited from a past roommate. goat the cat tries to eat anything and everything, thus the name. she particularly likes to eat house plants. she likes smart aleck the least, hot chef the most. i hold a pretty solid 2nd place.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 6 update: they made up. a package arrived today and it was apparently a pan to replace one smart aleck had destroyed. hot chef made smart aleck’s favorite dinner. SA talked the whole way through to meal, and HC looked smitten. so we’re back to normal.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 10 where do we rank the level of domestic where one person brushes their teeth/gets ready for the day while the other is in the shower? bonus points for some mild discussion and/or bickering.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 11 smart aleck has a new scheme. he is trying to persuade hot chef to teach him to cook. so far HC has held firm. we mark day one of this new standoff.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 12 i’ve been asked a few times why i don’t just use initials of smart aleck and hot chef’s names. it’s all part of keeping this hidden. i have also chosen nicknames that i don’t think they would think i’d use for them.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 12 smart aleck is the type to figure this out if i’m not careful. he’s both too clever and too dumb for his own good. which is part of the reason i must document all of this, so i can shove it in his face later.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 12 we are also on day two of cooking teaching standoff. i think some of you rightly assume SA is imagining hot chef standing behind him and idk helping him cut vegetables

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 13 standoff continues. i made dinner to see if that would throw the balance off. no change yet

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 14 resolution! hot chef did give in, on the condition that he teaches both of us. i didn’t manage to escape because smart aleck seemed to decide this was the only way. don’t know how this fits into whatever romantic daydreams he had.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 14 i see those comments that this might give me a chance to put them together. but i think it is more fun to not help them at all. they need to do this on their own

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 15 to do such teaching, a grocery shopping mission is needed. because the world is... well. i suggested just they go together so fine. maybe i will try and assist.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 15 level of domestic of sneaking things you know your “just friends roommate” loves but won’t buy for themselves in the cart without them knowing?

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 15 you ask how i know that and it is of course because smart aleck, so proud of himself, announced it as soon as he reentered the apartment. goat the cat tried to get into the bags to eat raw fish while this occurred.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 16 first cooking lesson, some simple stir fry. i already can cook this so i get to just perch at the counter and watch. vote on the poll below how you think this will turn out

[hands brushing softly] [sparks, and not the sexy kind] [food hopefully?]

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 16 everyone who voted for fire won. the neighbors are quite upset. and not even goat the cat will eat the final product. i ordered take out and a fresh fire extinguisher while they dealt with the mild fire and smoke detector.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 17 smart aleck is pouting so there will be no cooking lessons today. the good news (for his employer) is he seems to actually be focusing on doing his job.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 20 hot chef actually asked smart aleck if he wanted to try cooking again. very interesting. this has mostly been coming from SA’s side, so i would call this positive movement.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 20 SA has completely perked up and agreed.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 20 oh apparently the plan is SA will watch and i get the place as the student in the kitchen. this is probably safer for everyone

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 21 for those asking what happen: dinner was made with no issue. I was in charge of the main dish and that left HC to work on side dishes. SA even helped wash and chop some vegetables. goat took some chicken right off SA’s plate and ran away with it growling.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 21 i take that to mean the cat approves of my cooking. but she also tried to steal things from the trash, so that isn’t much of an endorsement.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 22 SA is avoiding work and trying to clean again. he actually asked if he could move stuff around. growth.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 25 hot chef spotted leaving smart aleck’s room this morning?

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 25 false alarm, he was just looking for the cat.

WZ @theroommatedilema . April 30 final report for this month: progress made in communication. new together activity established. the apartment has not burned down. a baby step closer, yet still so far away from them figuring this out...

[twinklecheeks]

Friends With Benefits (Jeff Wittek Imagine) Part 10

Summary: Jeff and Y/N have been hooking up for a while. The whole vlog squad assumes they’re dating and Y/N does too but Jeff doesn’t like labels. He eventually starts to express interest in Natalie.

Note: Planning on making this a multiple part series, depending on how good it does.  You’re 21 & Latina in this (maybe) series. Also, I’d like to apologize for the typos, if there is any. I’m just illiterate lmao.  

Side note: I am SO SORRY I’ve been MIA since May? June?. I was planning to write chapters throughout the summer but this quarantine thing really affected my mental health. I hope you guys understand. Also, I’m starting my last semester of college next week so Idk my posting schedule.

Warnings! Pregnancy

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Word Count: 2.1k

Okay so now that y/n and Jeff had a rather… Interesting time in Big Bear, they end it with bad news…. And Jeff still hasn’t told his parents about y/n. Christmas is in less than a week! What can go wrong?

12/20/19

Y/n: JEFF. YOU NEVER TOLD YOUR PARENTS THAT I WAS PREGNANT???!

Jeff: hey hey hey, can you calm down. Knowing the piece of shit I can be, I didn’t think I was going to be in your life. But look, I surprised myself!

Y/n: So absolutely no one knows?

Jeff: Karyn does…. Maybe my brother Steven too. Karyn basically knows the whole story.

Y/n: Are your parents going to be mad?

Jeff: Haha no. My ma has been begging me to straighten myself out and have a family. If they knew the whole story,... then they’d kill me.

Y/n: Is it just going to be us and the rest of your fam?

Jeff: Oh I forgot to tell you, Jonah’s family is coming too.

Y/n: Really?! Thank god. If it gets awkward, I can just stuff my face in the corner w/ Jonah.

Jeff: Don’t do that. You have to eat healthy.

Y/n: *gives Jeff a death glare*

Jeff: At least try to. Come on I just don’t want any other risks for the girls.

Y/n: Yeah…. I guess. What are we going to do if they’re deaf? I don’t know whether to choose the cochlear implant for selfish reasons or to let them grow up deaf and learn sign language.

Jeff: If they grow up deaf, we’re gonna have to take one or both of them to speech therapy and that’s going to be extremely difficult because they’re not going to hear if what they’re saying is pronounced right.

Y/n: Maybe we should give them the implant and make them learn sign language? I mean, it’s always beneficial to know another language.

Jeff: But we also have to remember that there’s a chance the implant won’t work and they’re going to have to grow up deaf. Also, remember that there’s a possibility that only one of them is born deaf.

Y/n: I hate how we’re talking about this before Christmas. I thought this was supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.

Jeff: It is but hey, if my ma gets mad at us, we’re breaking the ice w/ the babies possibly being deaf.

Y/n: JEFF.

Jeff: Oh shut up you know you would do that too w/ your parents.

Y/n: *rolls her eyes* I mean… you’re not wrong.

Jeff: Now hurry up and pack your stuff. We have an early flight tomorrow.

12/21/19

*At the airport w/ the Antonyan’s*

Suzie: I can’t believe we’re spending Christmas in New York!

Jonah: It’s gonna be so cold there though.

Vardon: Shut up Jonah. It’s a free present from David.

Jeff: Hey I’m gonna give y’all a heads up that my parent’s do not know that y/n is pregnant.

Everybody: *looks at Jeff for being a dumbass*

Suzie: You’re so stupid.

Jonah: I agree

Jonah’s mom: She look like she gonna give birth tomorrow and you no tell your parents?!

Jonah’s dad: You in big trouble Jeff

Y/n: *Laughing*

Jeff: Let’s just get on the plane.

*They arrive in New York*

Y/n: Jeff, we can’t just show up to your parent’s house and they see how pregnant I am. It’s going to ruin Christmas!

Jeff: Don’t worry. I’m sure they're going to be fine. I think.

Y/n: JEFF.

Jeff: *sees his older sister* Hey look it’s Karyn!

Karyn: *moves Jeff out of the way* Oh my god y/n! Can't believe you’re having twins!

Y/n: Jeff hasn’t told your parents about me yet.

Karyn: *turns to Jeff* JEFF ARE YOU FUCKIN STUPID

Jeff: Hey can y’all wait to yell at me after we leave the airport. People are staring

*In the car*

Karyn: Jeff I know I gave you a deadline to tell Ma and Pa but that didn’t mean to WAIT UNTIL THE DEADLINE.

Jeff: Everybody just loves to yell at me today

Y/n: How do you honestly think they’re going to react.

Karyn: They probably think Natalie is gonna come

Y/n: *getting madder by the second* THEY KNEW ABOUT NATALIE AND NOT ABOUT ME WHEN I WAS WITH YOU BEFORE HER AND FOR MUCH LONGER.

Jeff: Thanks a lot Karyn why tf did you have to say that.

Karyn: Hey, this is your fault. Not ours. You have to think of a way to tell mom and dad.

Suzie: *sitting in the back* This is going to be an interesting Christmas.

*Jeff’s parent’s house*

Jeff: Here goes nothing. *opens the door* hey ma?? *looks around*

Karyn: Maybe they left to get last minute things for Christmas.

Y/n: Cool, gives me time to hide.

Karyn: Hun, everything is going to be fine.

*another car pulls into the driveway*

Y/n: Oh god I’m going to throw up

Jeff: How about you go to my old room and I talk to them.

Y/n: *walks to Jeff’s old room* What if Jeff’s parents are disappointed that I’m not Natalie? They knew about her and not me.

*Jeff’s parents walk in*

Jeff’s mom: My baby boy! I know it’s only been a month but I love it everytime you come home. Sorry we weren’t here. We were buying more food just in case. You didn’t bring Natalie?

Jeff: About that, her and I are done… for good.

Jeff’s dad: Oh well, that’s too bad son.

Karyn: *whispers* But he did bring someone else…

Jeff: *shoves Karyn* hey, shut it. Ma…. Pa…. There was someone else before Natalie… We went out for a while but I broke it off w/ her cause I was stupid and now we’re back together…

Jeff’s dad: Okay, I don’t see the problem? Is she here?

Jeff: Ummm she is… But there’s something else. She’s pregnant… and they’re mine.

*Jeff’s parents both laugh*

*Everybody else laughs nervously*

Jeff’s mom: Good joke, now where is she?

Karyn: Ma, he’s not joking…

*Jeff’s parents look at everybody*

Jeff’s dad: Oh Jeffrey, what did you do.

Jeff: No no no, everything is fine between us. It was ugly between us at first but now we’re back together.

Jeff’s mom: *processes* WAIT. Did you say “they’re mine” as in PLURAL?!

Jeff: Umm yeah. She’s having twins.

Jeff’s mom: I don't know whether to be angry or excited. I mean I’m going to be a grandmother again!

Jeff’s Dad: If he’s on good terms w/ her and is back together w/ her, I see no problem.

Jeff: Y/n you wanna come out?

Y/n: *Walks out slowly* Hii

Jeff’s mom: My god, how far along are you?

Y/n: 5 months

Jeff’s mom: *turns to Jeff* You kept this from us for HOW LONG.

Jeff: We can talk about that later but at least give a warm welcome to the mother of your soon to be granddaughters.

Jeff’s family: IT’S TWIN GIRLS

Jeff’s mom: Oh my god I feel like fainting but I won’t. Oh dear congratulations. I’m going to spoil those little girls rotten. *hugs y/n*

Y/n: Thank you so much. I was afraid of how you would react.

Jeff’s dad: His mom has been begging him to settle down for years. She finally got her wish.

Jeff’s mom: This is a Christmas gift I wasn't expecting at all but I am so happy for the both of you. Jeffrey is a natural when he spends time w/ his sister’s children.

Y/n: haha that’s good to know.

Jeff’s dad: Dear they’re probably all tired. Let them rest for a bit and we’ll go out later tonight.

*Jeff and Y/n take a nap in Jeff’s old room*

Y/n: Well, that went better than expected. I just wish my parents were like that…

Jeff: Babe don’t worry, they’ll come around.

Y/n: I doubt it. When my older sister moved out, they didn’t talk to her for a year but when our older brother moved out, my parents helped him w/ everything! All I’ve done is please them and I do one thing they don’t like and I’M DISOWNED?? QUE SE VAYAN AL CARAJO!

Jeff: Hey hey hey, calm down. You don’t wanna stress the girls out.

Y/n: I mean, at least my siblings are on my side but they live in Seattle.

Jeff: We also have like 20 friends who will always be w/ us. The twins will always have family around.

Y/n: I’m just wondering when we should tell them about the deaf thing.

Jeff: I think we should wait until after the holidays. Maybe in February? I just think we need our time to process and prepare ourselves for anything before it’s confirmed once they’re born.

Y/n: Yeah, you’re right. But February is my birthday though… I don’t wanna ruin the fun w/ that.

Jeff: Hurry up and get dressed. I have a little surprise for you but you have to close your eyes when you get in the car.

Y/n: Jeff please don’t send me into pre-term labor.

Jeff: Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. I think you’ll love it.

*Jeff drives to Brooklyn*

Jeff: Okay we're almost there. Are your eyes still closed?

Y/n: Yeeees. Boy I’m getting impatient.

Jeff: We’re here. I’ll help you get out of the car. Okay now you can open your eyes.

Y/n: *turns around* NO FUCKING WAY. RIMINI’S.

Jeff: Yeah. I remember you sayin that you came to this bakery all the time. And that they had your favorite cookies in the world.

Y/n: Jeff. I haven't been here in 10 years. My grandpa would always take me here. I lived 5 minutes down the street.

Jeff: That’s why I brought you here. I knew how much it meant to you.

Y/n: I know you’re not proposing but I would’ve said yes in a millisecond. Now let’s go inside! I have to get their italian butter cookies and I’m bringing a bunch back to LA. I don’t know the next time I’ll  be able to come back.

Jeff: I mean, we’d be coming back quite often after the babies are born to visit my family.

Y/n: Okay but I’m still bringing a bunch back. You can’t get anything like this back in LA.

Jeff: But don’t go overboard w/ the sweets. You don’t want gestational diabetes.

Y/n: *death glares* You sayin I eat too much?

Jeff: No no no, you know what I mean.

Y/n: *pouts* But they taste so good :(

Jeff: Which means you should ration them as much as possible. Also, when we film for my channel, you might wanna hide these from Jonah.

Y/n: I swear to god if Jonah even THINKS about eating my damn cookies, I’m going to jail for manslaughter…

Jeff: Hun, what did I say about the anger. Don’t stress the girls out.

*Back at Jeff’s house*

Jeff’s dad: Well look who finally came back. We wanted to take you guys out but y’all left.

Jeff: Sorry pops, Y/n and I went to Brooklyn. She lived there until she was 11.

Jeff’s mom: Oh wow, I wouldn’t have guessed you were from New York too.

Y/n: Yeah, my parents moved my older siblings and I to Seattle because it was getting hard w/ the cost of living. Also, my grandfather passed away, so there wasn’t really any reason for us to stay there. My parent’s LOVED living here.

Jeff’s dad: Your parents are from New York too?  

Y/n: No. My parents immigrated from Peru. My dad came in the 70s as a teenager and went back and forth. My mom immigrated here in the 80s. They still have a bunch of friends here and they still know the city like they still live here.

Jeff’s mom: Why didn’t you invite them for Christmas in the city. I bet it would bring back so many good memories for them.

Y/n: *sighs* Well, we're kind of not talking at the moment… They were really disappointed when I told them I was pregnant. My older siblings are supportive though.

Karyn: Well that’s good that you have older siblings that will always look out for you. That’s why I give dumb dumb over there *points at Jeff* a hard time.

Jeff: What the fuck.

Karyn: They’ll come around eventually but even if it takes an eternity, just know that you have us now. We’re family! Even if Jeff somehow messes things up w/ you in the future.

Jeff: Ma can you tell her to stop!

Jeff’s mom: Karyn, stop bullying your brother.

Next chapter is CHRISTMAAAAS. (Don’t worry it’s already done. I won't post it for another couple of days) Also, some of the stuff in this chapter is kind of based on me. (Not the pregnant thing. I’ve never been pregnant lmao) But I was born in Brooklyn and the immigrant parents/ moving away thing is from my real life. (but not the moving away cause of grandpa. He was still alive for a couple years after.) But the cookies from Rimini’s… Will change your LIFE.

Comment if you want to be on the taglist!

Taglist: @elvlogsquad​​ @siemprestan​​ @zavidzobrik​​ @galxydefender​​ @iminlovewithenchilidadas​​ @ilsolee​​ @ranprivate​ @one-sweet-gubler​  @sunwardsss​ @shamalamashams​ @michellemxndes​

[unsettledink]

Gotcha Chapter 6!

(Trying something new and posting the full text here as well as AO3? It feels too long, but I’ve posted longer things here before, Idk.)

Read on AO3

Peter: sorry im on my way!

Peter: iswear im just running late

Peter: i will be there supr fast!!

Peter: sorry!

Quentin stares down at his phone and somehow, manages not to sigh. It’s a full ten minutes past when they were supposed to meet, and he doesn’t even want to be here in the first place.

Quentin: Don’t worry, it’s fine.

Peter: im sosorry

Peter: my alarm got set for tomorroow instead of today

Peter: i dont even know how

Peter: adn i just woke up and i dont even sleep this late like ever

Peter: but i willl bet there soon i promise

Peter: sorry!

Quentin: Really, it’s fine! There’s no hurry.

Quentin: We’re not exactly on a schedule or anything.

Peter: its so rude tho

Peter: for once it wast me losingt rack of time!!

Peter: im still sorry!

Quentin had given himself a little extra time this morning, just to remind himself of all the many, many reasons he is doing this, in this particular way. Had spent that time summoning up every bit of patience he could find to get through this day, because he had a feeling he was going to need it.

It feels like he’s already used half of it.

And of course he won’t be able to comment on Peter’s lateness, not even as a joke.

Peter: im like hafway there already illl just have to chagne and then ill be there!

Peter: seriously i am so sorry

Normally he’d be all for hearing Peter apologize, but it keeps happening every other word, Quentin will lose his mind.

He’s already losing his mind.

Well, he’s not going to just stand here until Peter does show up. He glances around for somewhere to sit; there’s a coffee shop just across the street. Perfect. He’s going to need that.

Quentin: Hey, don’t rush!

Quentin: I’ll just grab a coffee okay?

Quentin: I’ll be over at Kaldi’s, it’s just across the street. Can’t miss it.

Quentin: You want anything?

Peter: you dont haveto!

There’s no stopping the sigh this time. God.

Quentin: Not what I asked, kiddo.

Peter: um

Peter: suure?

Peter: someting with carmel i dont care mych

Peter: ill be there realy soon tho!!

Quentin: Then we can just sit for a bit.

Quentin: You’ll probably need it if you just woke up.

It’s a little funny how… drastically downgraded Peter’s texting is when he’s apparently still half asleep. Or maybe it’s just that he’s in a hurry. Or—

Quentin nearly stops in the middle of the sidewalk. He— surely, Peter isn’t—

Quentin: Are you texting AND webswinging?

Peter: …maybe?

No wonder he goes through phones so fast.

Quentin: You’re going to drop your phone

Peter: hey! imst icky! i wont drop it!

Quentin: Then you’re going to fall from being distracted

Quentin: And I won’t feel sorry for you.

Peter: :(

Quentin: I’ll laugh

Peter: :( :( :(

Quentin: You brought this on yourself.

He spends the time until Peter gets there reviewing Lynn’s newest plans for the miniaturized drones; they actually aren’t too bad.

Of course, they’ve probably had them sitting, waiting, for months, what with how they’ve harped on and on about how this should be a priority.

It won’t do to let them get too full of themselves, so along with the praise he sends back plenty of potential revisions. Even brings up some entirely new bits for them to consider; should keep them busy for a bit.

“Hi!” Peter says, flinging himself down across from Quentin. He’s flushed and still out of breath, his hair sticking up. “I’m here! I’m so sorry!”

Quentin allows himself a slightly amused smile. “Hi,” he says. Pushes Peter’s drink—some sort of ridiculously sweet caramel flavored thing that’s barely coffee at all—across the table to him. “Sit. Drink. Relax a bit, okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, running a hand through his hair and only making things worse. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry, though. I’m just… it’s really embarrassing to be that late when this was my idea in the first place and—”

“Peter,” Quentin says, cutting him off. “Breathe! It’s fine, I promise.”

For once, Peter listens, and takes a deep breath, holding it in for a moment. Lets it out and relaxes the smallest bit, and grabs his drink. “Oh,” he says. “This is good! Thanks; you were right about me needing it.”

Quentin watches while he unwinds; Peter’s latest idea regarding ‘things they could do together’ was to show Quentin around Queens, so today they’re wandering. Quentin’s thrilled.

It could be worse. Peter had been all set up to take him to the most popular, well known, touristy spots, and Quentin had barely been able to hide his dread at the thought. It’d taken a little work, but he’d manage to convince Peter that Quentin would much rather see Peter’s favorite places. Even if they were nothing fancy or exciting, or little hole in the wall type places, or silly.

Even if they bored Quentin to tears.

Not that he can let Peter see even a hint of that. There’s a special kind of… vulnerability in sharing the smallest things you like, something different than exposing the larger, more damaged pieces of yourself. Something oddly hopeful about showing someone the unexplainable, intimate things you like and waiting for them to enjoy those things as well. Or at the very least, not reject them, in a way that suggests they’re rejecting your tastes as well.

Not rejecting you.

He’s started to prove to Peter he can handle the bigger things, the superhero stuff and the feelings nearly suffocating Peter; time to show that he can be trusted with the little things too. That Peter can come to Quentin with anything at all. Anything. Everything.

“So,” Quentin says. “What’s first?”

He was right; it is pretty boring. Not… awful, surprisingly, but not Quentin’s sort of thing at all. Peter’s apparently decided to try and cover as many miles as he can in one day, dragging Quentin from one end of Queens to the other. And then back; Quentin’s going to take tomorrow off for sure. Peter just has so much energy.

Has so much enthusiasm, Quentin thinks, as they poke through a small used record store that isn’t nearly as hipster as he expected from Astoria. So, so much enthusiasm, for the smallest things. It just bursts out of him once he gets comfortable and isn’t second guessing every single word he says.

Once Quentin has seemed interested in the first few things Peter shows him. Peter’s nervous about it, trying to explain away any shortcomings before Quentin’s even gotten in the door. He’s just desperate for approval, for acceptance. For Quentin to like him.

It’s not that hard to, actually.

It’s never been that Quentin dislikes Peter. Sure, Peter’s causing him grief and can be incredibly annoying, and sure, about half of what he feels for Peter is pity, but those can exist alongside the fact that Quentin kind of likes Peter.

Has liked him, ever since he started compiling research on him, ever since he’d met Peter as Mysterio and shook his hand and watched him get so excited over the existence of multiverse. It’s harder not to like Peter, not even a bit. He’s ridiculously smart, and stupidly good-natured, and—

He throws himself into everything he does; goes full out, with his heart on his sleeve. It’s no wonder he gets anxious as hell, if his first impulse is to practically flaunt all his soft spots, open and eager and expecting the best. It’s going to go poorly more often than not.

Must have, judging by the way Peter pulls himself in and hides, overrides that instinctual reaction so quickly it’s just a flash, a glimpse Quentin keeps catching again and again. He’s been taught to second guess himself somewhere along the way, by someone—probably a lot of someones—who saw those tender spots and couldn’t help poking them, taking advantage of them.

Just like Quentin’s doing; Peter should be better about spotting that sort of thing by now.

It’s almost a shame to fix Peter just to tear him apart completely, to have to use him like this, but… well. In the end, Peter’s nothing but another obstacle scattered in Quentin’s path. There are far more important things to worry about than the fate of one kid.

Peter grins at him when Quentin admits that this dinky little secondhand bookstore in Jamaica was worth a stop, even if it’s just for the most comfortable couch Quentin has ever sat on. Smiles when he points out a mural he loves on the way to the next attraction and admits he’d actually webbed up someone who started to tag it.

Straight up laughs at Quentin’s face when Peter shows him the most supremely creepy things in some huge thrift store, full of weird antiques and vintage crap. God, it’s disturbing that the things Quentin had as a kid, even as a teen, are considered vintage now.

“Jesus, Peter,” Quentin says after he has to look at a one hundred percent haunted taxidermied squirrel. “Why would you make me see that? I’m going to have nightmares.”

“For that exact face,” Peter says. “Oh my god, you look like you think it’s going to bite you!”

“It might,” and it’s unfair that Peter just laughs harder. He glares at Peter, but it might be slightly put on.

He’s allowed to like Peter a little, Quentin decides, watching Peter nearly double over with giggles. It’ll make having to deal with him easier, if nothing else, and it’s not as though liking someone has ever stopped him from using them—even disposing of them—in the past. It sure won’t this time.

They wander some more, Peter chattering on and easily filling the silence as long as Quentin remembers to make the appropriate listening noises occasionally. Every now and then, Peter hesitates, a nervous stumble in his words, something throwing him off, and Quentin reengages fully. He can’t afford to let Peter get too caught up in his thoughts.

But a few questions—carefully designed to make Quentin seem far more interested than he is—are enough to get Peter going again, bouncing from place to place until Quentin suggests they could use something to eat.

“Oh my god, yes,” Peter says. “I’m starving and didn’t even realize it. Ooo, last time we were down here, Ned and I found this awesome truck that does crazy good Korean barbeque, you’d love it.”

“No,” Quentin says without thinking, the sweet tart burnt smell so strong he can nearly taste it, can feel it stinging when he draws in a breath.

He twitches, shrugging it off, and tries to walk back how sharp that had come out. “Uh, I’m not big on sweet sauces and meat?” he says. “Got another recommendation?”

Peter drags him to a place that has the weirdest chimichanga combinations—and normal ones too, thankfully—and once again, attempts to pay.

“You know,” Quentin says as he pokes Peter out of the way, immensely irritated that Peter is still pushing him on this. “I didn’t realize your memory was this bad.”

“Hey!” Peter says. “It’s not! What are you talking about?” like that doesn’t prove Quentin’s point exactly.

“I seem to remember a bet I won,” he says, “relating to this exact situation.”

Peter opens his mouth to protest, and then closes it. “Um,” he says.

“Yeah,” Quentin says,raising his eyebrows.

“Okay,” Peter says, “okay, you can’t blame me for trying!”

“Hmmm,” Quentin says, passing over one of the foam trays. “You’re forgiven. This time. Just don’t do it again.” It’s always a good idea to get Peter into the habit of following Quentin’s rules, of remembering not to challenge Quentin too much.

Of remembering that Quentin will forgive him anything, easily.

“Fine,” Peter says through a mouthful, so mature.

They eat on the way to the next stop on Peter’s little tour; Quentin had been hoping they were approaching the end, but when Peter looks at him and asks, so hesitantly, if Quentin is tired and wants to call it a day—

Well he can’t say no.

Quentin finds himself dragged on to little half hidden shops, with any signage and down stairs that Quentin has to ask how Peter could have found in the first place. To statues Peter likes, to places he feeds pigeons—why he’d want to, Quentin doesn’t know—places with great views of the Hudson.

And, over and over, once Quentin catches on and starts pushing it, places to eat. Because Peter’s metabolism is a thing of wonder.

It’s interesting watching Peter banter back and forth with an older man about his sandwich; Quentin had gotten the impression Peter was uneasy around strangers, all his awkwardness amping up. But the way Peter’s interacted with people today is much more relaxed, much easier. Peter has a sharp sense of humor that Quentin has only started to see, as Peter gets comfortable around him.

Why do all these strangers get it right off the bat?

He watches Peter dart over to help get a stroller over a curb and— they’re not strangers. Not really. It’s not just that everywhere they’ve gone is somewhere Peter has been again and again, to the point where he knows people.

This is Peter’s home ground. His comfort zone, and the people in it— they’re his people. And when he’s helping them, his nerves disappear. His awkwardness becomes a tool of its own, disarming, downplaying the threat Peter could so easily be.

This is what he wants to be when he’s Spider-Man; the guy on the street, helping in a hundred tiny ways.

That’s fine with Quentin. Perfectly fine; now how does he get Peter to stay there, with EDITH looming over his head?

He can practically hear that in William’s voice, ugh. He’s working on it.

They wind up in Kissena late in the afternoon, almost early evening, really. Peter steps off the path once they get into one of the more wooded areas, and there’s a grassy spot past a few bushes, with a truly massive tree near the center, smaller ones scattered around it. It’s well hidden.

“Alright,” Quentin says, as he has with every other place, “what's the story behind this? How’d you find it?”

“So, when I got bit, when everything changed?” Peter settles down at the base of the tree, cross legged. “One of the things that was like, a huge pain, was how all of my senses got crazy amplified. Everything was turned up to eleven, you know?”

Quentin sits across from Peter, stretching his legs out as he leans back. Ugh, grass; he’d better not end up with bug bites. “Okay,” he says. “Sounds like that was pretty overwhelming.”

Peter groans. “You have no idea! It was really hard for a while, because even once I started to get used to everything being too loud and too bright and too smelly and— things tasted weird and my clothes made me feel like my skin was crawling and it was—” He stops, tipping his head back against the tree and looking upward.

“It was a lot,” he says. “Eventually I sorta started being able to deal with all that sort of… feeling stuff? I mean, physical, sensory, not like feeling feelings.”

Coherent; Quentin does not roll eyes through sheer force of will.

“But I was still really struggling with the, um,” Peter frowns, tips his head back further until Quentin can’t really see his face. “The stuff in my head. Actually doing things, thinking about things or even focusing on one thing was all so hard. It was like…”

“It was like what?” Quentin asks, after a few moments have passed.

“Everything was a distraction,” Peter says, slowly. “That’s still not right, because normally, before, I’d get distracted thinking about something else I wanted to do, or I’d be daydreaming, or, um, just, good stuff? Stuff that I’d want to focus on, just not right that second.”

“This wasn’t like this.” Peter looks down and starts to fiddle with a bit of grass, pulling up blades one by one. “This was like so much noise inside my head, like every little detail about every single thing was right there, grabbing my attention. I’d be trying to do one thing and all that would be clamoring at me nonstop.”

He closes his eyes, scrunching his whole face up. “People talk about wanting super sense a lot,” he says, “but it sucked so much at first.”

“People generally don’t think through those kinds of wishes very much,” Quentin says. Honestly, for the most part people don’t think at all.

“I’m pretty much okay now,” Peter says. “I figured out how to filter things most of the time; when there’s a bunch of stuff at once I can get so caught up in trying to ignore it that I ignore everything, and then that’s it’s own problem.”

“I noticed,” Quentin says, dryly. “Makes you pretty jumpy.”

Peter huffs, almost a laugh. “Yeah,” he says, brushing the ripped up grass off his pants. “I’m still working on getting the kinds of focus right?”

Quentin leans further back on his hands, crossing his legs. “You said something about focusing on me that one time,” he says, and Peter goes faintly pink. “That the sort of thing you’re talking about?”

“Something like that,” Peter says. “If I have one thing I can focus on, almost completely, then I can make it into… uh, white noise, I guess? Or it makes everything else into white noise. If that makes any sense at all.”

Not one bit, but whatever. He can press that later. “Sure,” Quentin says, waving his hand. “I’m following.”

It’s actually something to consider— if Peter manages to function better in difficult situations by focusing on one specific thing, what happens when that thing is taken away? Is ripped away from him, in fact. Would there be a moment of disorientation they could take advantage of? Maybe they could set Peter up to focus on what they want; he’s already using Quentin as a focal point, apparently.

He’ll have to watch Peter, Quentin thinks. This fumbling little explanation leaves a lot to be desired, but he doesn’t have much faith Peter actually could explain it better even if he tried.

“That helps,” Peter’s saying, “but it’s still really exhausting after a while. Sometimes I want to just… stop. Just not feel it at all, not have to try not to feel it.”

He glances at Quentin, and Quentin nods. Peter looks oddly shy, so he’d better pay close attention to what he’s showing.

“I’ve found a couple of places like this, but this is probably my favorite,” Peter tells him. “I can come here and actually relax. If I stop trying to block things out, or stop focusing on one thing, it doesn’t matter.” He tips his head back again, looking up at the tree.

“It's quiet here, pretty much all the time,” Peter says; the light through the leaves is diffuse, dappled on his face. “Even the noises that I get are like, soft things. Leaves and wind and things walking on grass. People talking, yeah, but that’s more distant and almost like background noise. It’s still shadowy in here when it’s super bright out, and there aren’t any super gross strong smells either. Just dirt and water and uh, green stuff.”

He darts a glance down at Quentin without moving his head. “Don’t laugh at me!” he says, and it’s right on the edge of plaintive. “I don’t know what else to call it.”

“I’m not,” Quentin says. He understands; it’s not something a city kid would be around that often, would probably even notice without senses like Peter’s. “I wouldn’t. I know what you mean, Peter.”

“Okay,” Peter says. Looks back away from Quentin and then closes his eyes. “It’s nice. And when I have to go back to the real world, it’s not quite as hard to handle.”

Quentin watches him. Watches as he slowly, slowly unwinds. Peter doesn’t move, aside from his head tipping slightly to the side, and Quentin—

He’d thought, earlier, that it was interesting how much Peter loosened up around people he felt comfortable with, places he felt safe. He’d thought it was a large degree of relaxation—and it was—but it was nothing compared to this.

Nothing compared to the way the tension drains from him with each passing second, from every single bit of his body, until he looks calmer than Quentin has ever seen.

Happier.

If this is how he looks when truly relaxed, the level of stress Peter must carry with him every day, everywhere he goes—from the physical tension to the mental, the anxiety, the constant background level of effort that other people don’t have to think about—must be ridiculously high.

He doesn’t want to say anything, do anything, that would break the stillness that seems to have spread over the entire glade. Poor kid. He might be doing a great job at being a pain in Quentin’s ass, but he isn’t cut out for this superhero shit.

Everything Quentin sees just convinced him further that taking EDITH from Peter really is doing him a favor. He’d never intended for that to be true, but— it’s not a terrible byproduct.

Peter sighs eventually, a barely there breath of a thing, opening his eyes halfway. He looks dazed, almost half asleep.

At least, until he notices that Quentin is watching him, and then he flushes. Looks down, the moment dissipating. “Anyway,” Peter says. “It’s— it’s a nice place for me,” like he’s admitting something embarrassing.

“I can tell,” Quentin says, offering him a small smile. “You deal with a lot every day, don’t you.” He shifts against his tree, trying to get more comfortable without Peter noticing and getting all fussy about it.

“I guess,” Peter says.

He picks up a leaf, twirling it through his fingers absently. “It’s getting really frustrating,” he adds. “Because it’s been almost two years, right? So I should have a better handle on this! I shouldn’t still be getting tripped up by such little things. And—” he makes a face, shoulders starting to hunch again.

“So I have this… this sense? Uh, I call it a spidey sense— I know, it’s kind of stupid. It sort of warns me about things? Like someone poking me, or shouting that something bad is about to happen.”

“Mmm, you mentioned that once,” Quentin says. “Sort of like a limited precog?” Honestly, he’d dismissed it— not fully, it wouldn’t do to completely dismiss anything about Peter. But it hadn’t seemed like it did much for Peter in Europe.

And it hadn’t picked up anything about Quentin, so how good could it really be?

“Oh, huh,” Peter says. “I hadn’t really thought of it like that? Maybe, but it’s not very exact. Sometimes it’s super obvious, but others it takes me a while to figure out what’s wrong. And lately, especially, it’s been— it’s gone kinda nuts? I don’t feel like I can trust it anymore.”

“Like, like right now?” he adds. “Right now it’s just going off like something really big and bad is happening, but come on!” He throws his hands up, exaggerated. “We’re just sitting here talking! Nothing, literally nothing bad is happening. It’s freaking out for no reason.”

Fuck.

Maybe he really shouldn’t have dismissed it, Quentin thinks, trying to stay as relaxed as he was a moment ago. Maybe he really fucking shouldn’t have, because some part of Peter knows that Quentin’s not good news. Knows that Quentin is something dangerous, is a threat.

And apparently knows it very, very insistently. Oh, fuck, this is the last thing he needs. Why now? Why is Peter’s sense losing its shit now and not at any time in Europe? What has he done differently to set it off?

God, what if it had been going off then too? Could that be why Peter had backed off at the last second in the bar, EDITH almost in Quentin’s hand? Has Peter been feeling this the entire time?

It’s a good thing he doesn’t seem to be listening to it, but that could stop at any second. At any time, Peter could decide that maybe his stupid ‘spider sense’ isn’t wrong, and that would be— that would be bad. That would be so bad.

Quentin has got to figure out how to make sure Peter keeps dismissing what it’s telling him.

“It’s so annoying,” Peter’s saying. “I wish it would stop, would just shut up already. It’s like this constant thing lately, sort of fading in and out but almost always there, but not a single thing has happened!”

Oh, that’s really, really not great. Almost always? In and out? How long will it take before Peter starts to realize it’s linked to Quentin?

No. No, he can fix this. He can nip this in the bud, before Peter has even a hint of suspicion. Peter’s already trying to ignore it, already annoyed by it. Quentin can use that.

“Maybe it’s just confused?” Quentin brings one knee up and rests his elbow on it, letting his arm dangle oh so casually. “After all,” he adds, “I’m hardly a bad thing, am I?”

Peter smiles, all that irritation gone in a second. “No!” he says. “Of course not! You’re like, the least bad thing that’s happened in a while.”

Quentin grins back at him. Yeah, keep thinking that, kid. “Well that’s a relief!” he says. “How finely tuned is this thing anyway? Could something have… I don’t know, damaged it? Hmm, screwed up its baseline, maybe? How do you even recalibrate it?”

“I have no clue,” Peter says. “I mean, it’s not like I can’t really test it or fix it or whatever. It’s practically useless now.”

Perfect; he wants Peter distrusting this sense. Wants him not thinking about it at all, avoiding the topic entirely— ah.

If he can get Peter thinking his damaged sense has something to do with the fights he’s been in, these bigger battles, that would be ideal. Peter’s already trying hard not to think about those; tie this sense to them as well, and he’ll just have even more reason to avoid both

“Could something have overloaded it?” Quentin asks. “Just completely swamped it, and it hasn’t recovered yet? If it got used to there being danger nonstop, on all sides, maybe it can’t stand down.”

“…maybe?” Peter says. “But I don’t know what would have caused that, or even when. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

What.

Really, Quentin thinks, really? Peter can’t think of anything that would fit? Why wouldn’t he think of that? “Nothing?” he says, quietly.

Peter frowns. Takes a moment, and when he opens his mouth, Quentin is almost sure he’s made the connection; but Peter hesitates. Shrugs. “Not anything that’s like, major or a big deal or anything,” he says.

Does Peter— has he really managed to convince himself that all the fighting he’s done is nothing? Or at least, been trying to, because that hesitation says a lot.

He should have expected this, with the way Peter’s consistently downplayed himself so far. He really should have, but somehow it still annoys him. No wonder Peter isn’t willing to admit how scared and screwed up he is, if he thinks he’s completely overreacting to ‘no big deal’.

“Well,” Quentin says, and he’s watching Peter carefully. He doesn’t know quite how this will hit. “You were at war, on a battlefield. More than once, even. That can really mess you up in all kinds of ways.” Remember, Peter, he thinks. Remember that you were hurt, that there’s a good reason to be scared. To run.

“I— that—” Peter stares at him. “I wasn’t in a war,” he says. Dammit. Looks like downgrading it in his head is exactly what Peter’s been doing, and that is exactly the opposite of what Quentin wants.

“No? What would you call it?” Quentin asks, raising an eyebrow. He pushes himself more upright, uncrossing his legs. “It sounded a lot like war to me.”

Peter shakes his head, fingers crushing the leaf he’s been playing with. “It was just a fight,” he says, strained. “That’s all!”

A fight. Just a fight, like it was nothing more than a little spat, was nothing at all. Has someone been telling him this, reinforcing it? Fury, maybe, or even Tony before that?

He knows Fury wants Peter to think he can handle things, but has he also been trying to convince him that what he’s been through so far was small enough Peter should have been able to handle it? Should be able to handle the aftereffects? That he shouldn’t be upset about it, that he’s overreacting?

That’s not good; Quentin doesn’t need Peter doubting he can handle things. He needs Peter to be certain he can’t, and more, that it’s perfectly normal. Acceptable. Not something horribly selfish at all.

“Peter,” he says, “it wasn’t just a fight.”

“It was! It was just one— it wasn’t a war!”

“It wasn’t— Peter,” Quentin says, and sighs. “It was a lot more than that. You’ve been dragged from fight to fight to fight the past couple of years, without anyone helping you after; from what I hear, you really could have used some after that thing upstate.”

He huffs, too sharp to be a real laugh. “And that’s just what I know of,” he adds. “I’m not stupid enough to assume that’s everything.”

Peter sucks in a sharp breath, his hands fisted on his thighs. Blinks, and then looks at Quentin intently, his brow furrowed. “How do you even know about that? About— about other fights?”

“I spent some time talking with Fury,” Quentin says. “He wasn’t big on details, but I got enough that I can fill them in on my own. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t even know every fight you’ve been in, though I’m sure he’d like me to think so.”

He’d been talking with Janice, more like. God, she’d been such a find; seething about having had Tony himself be an ass to her, more than once, but willing to stay where she was to pass things on. She’d had access to so much confidential information, and every time SI and SHIELD decided to bury another thing, shift the blame and throw money at it until it all went away—for them, at least—she’d gotten a little more resentful.

It’s true that they might not have the finer details—it drives him nuts how sparse the info about whatever it was that crashed SI’s plane into the beach is—but he has enough to know that Peter’s been involved time and time again.

“Oh,” Peter says, looking down, losing some of his ire. “You probably didn’t hear much good, I bet. But— it doesn’t matter if it was more than one fight, cause they were all different. All like, spread out and about other stuff. It’s still not war.”

“What do you think war is, then?” Quentin asks, actually curious.

“I don’t, uh. War is… more?” Peter stumbles along, and he’s being incredibly stubborn about this. “More than that, than any of those. Worse. Way worse. You don’t— you weren’t there, you don’t know what it was really like. It wasn’t like that.”

“I think,” Quentin says dryly, “I have a pretty good idea of what war is.”

Peter looks absolutely horrified. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “God, I didn’t mean— I’m sorry, I didn’t think— I just, just meant that you were in a war. In a real, horrible, endless one and this…” He shudders. “These were just fights. It’s not the same, it’s not anywhere near as bad.”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says. Looks at Quentin and then drops his head into his hands, knees coming up as he curls in on himself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Quentin, I didn’t mean…”

This is really not what he was going for. Shit, he shouldn’t have said it like that; Peter’s too sensitive for him to be even a little sharp.

Quentin sighs, very softly, though he’s sure Peter still catches it. Pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to Peter, who doesn’t even look up. “I know you didn’t mean it like that,” Quentin says. “It’s okay, Peter.”

Peter just shakes his head a little; Quentin thinks of sighing again but—somehow—manages to restrain himself. He sits down next to Peter, his back against the tree.

“War doesn’t have to go for a long time to be real,” he says, not looking at Peter. “It doesn’t have to drag on and on for it to still be awful, for it to still affect you,” and Jesus, he’s had to hear shit along those lines so many times. Had to sit there and listen to people be told over and over that what happened to them is worth being fucked up over.

Even if it isn’t. There’s a lot of reasons he never opened his mouth at those meetings, and his disgust at everyone else was the biggest. What a waste of time.

Well. Maybe not. It did give him the material to work Peter over.

“It doesn’t have to be some huge, dramatic battle to qualify,” Quentin says. “It still counts. Pretending it doesn’t doesn’t get it out of your head.” Come on, he thinks, let it be bad, be a nightmare. Admit that there’s a good reason, a real reason, for you to be scared, and then you can back down without shame. Come on, Peter.

“It doesn’t feel like it should count,” Peter says, a bit muffled, head still in his hands. “It wasn’t— lots of people have dealt with so much worse. Something like this, it’s not— it’s not an excuse for, for…”

He doesn’t finish that thought, but Quentin doesn’t need him to. An excuse, hmm? He turns his head toward Peter, just a bit. “Why don’t you want to call it a war?”

Peter lifts his head, arms sliding down to cross across his chest. “Why does it matter to you what I call it?” he asks, and there’s a hint of sharpness in there. Maybe even anger. “Why do you even care if I admit— if I think it’s a war?”

Nice little slip there; isn’t that interesting. Peter does know it was more than a few little fights. He knows, he’s just trying as hard as he can to pretend otherwise. Trying to redirect, as usual, turning the question back on Quentin. Why does it matter, Peter wants to know, and there are so many answers Quentin could give.

It matters because you need to see yourself as badly damaged. Because you need to acknowledge that this is something huge and overwhelming and frightening. Because I need you to start accepting what I say as right, start accepting me as an authority. I need you to not question me.

So many reasons, and he can’t tell Peter any of them. Ugh.

He turns further toward Peter. “Because I think you’re doing yourself a disservice,” Quentin says, tightly, irritation rising up in him. “When you sit there and insist that it’s nothing more than a little fight, when you play it off like it’s nothing— you’re devaluing what you did, and that’s wrong.”

“Don’t act like what you went through, what you did, doesn’t count,” Quentin says, and Peter’s looking over at him, startled. “That it wasn’t brave as hell, and terrifying as hell too.”

Peter stares, his eyes very wide. “I— it’s not like I did more than anyone else there. Than, than anyone else would have.”

“It sounds like you did more than enough,” Quentin says. “And— it doesn’t matter, Peter. It still messes you up. War fucks everyone up. Maybe it didn’t go on long enough for it to really warp your thinking, your morals or empathy or capacity to even feel, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t damage you.”

Peter jerks, sitting up straighter. “I’m not damaged!”

For fuck’s sake.

Quentin has to dig deep for a bit more patience. “Sure you are. Hey, Peter— wait,” he says, watching as Peter shuts down all over again, hurt. “That’s not bad, kid. It’s not an insult. It’s just… you gotta admit that before you can get better.”

Or not, if Quentin gets his way; admitting it might lead to Peter actually getting over his fear and stepping up. But with Quentin around, guiding him along? Peter’s never going to take that admission as anything other than a personal failure.

As just another reason he can’t, and someone else should.

“I don’t know,” Peter mutters. “It doesn’t feel like it should count.”

Quentin watches him for a minute. Leans in, his shoulder bumping against Peter’s. “You’d agree that I’ve been in war, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And that I’m able to judge what is and isn’t war. Right?”

Peter can be smart, sometimes. He sees where this is going. Sighs. “Yeah,” he says.

“Will you—” Quentin pauses, waits until Peter is looking at him. “Can you trust me here, and believe that I mean it when I say what you went through was war?”

Peter blinks, his eyes dropping. He’s silent, and Quentin can feel the muscles of his arm moving as Peter fiddles with something out of sight. “I’ll think about it,” Peter says, which is not quite the response Quentin was hoping for. Still, it’s not another denial. Baby steps.

“I’ll— maybe,” Peter says. “I guess you would know, even if you weren’t there.”

“You should listen to me,” Quentin agrees, leaning a little harder against Peter. “I do know!”

You should listen to me, and only me, he thinks. We’ll get you there, kid.

Peter huffs softly, pushing back against Quentin’s shoulder. “Maybe,” but he’s smiling faintly.

Quentin smiles back; he can accept a maybe, for now.

He’ll get a yes soon enough.

[colour-outside-the-liness]

First of all!! Loved the MoU fic update! left you a comment on AO3 and all. 10/10 ratings haha.

Secondly, moving countries is great you should try if you ever get a chance. I've always wanted to do that and jumped in on the first opportunity I got to make that dream come true, and I recgozine how lucky I am to be able to do so. It's definitely not easy but I'd do it again if I could (in true sag fashion 😎 haha). Where would you want to live? You ever been outside the UK?

Hahaha you and I in a team would be a nightmare to play against I think. Oh come on you absolutely do not deserve people questioning your intelligence! I like to play dumb in addition to the taunting so people underestimate me, they never see it coming when I win. They never see the cheating coming either, my friends are always shocked when they find out, but I do it almost every single time! 😂 I'm competitive too but I like to play it cool especially If I lose I'll be like "it's just a game calm down yall" but if I win I'm like "in your face losers!" (very mature I know).

I love your drunken story, though does sound like it was very dangerous so I'm glad nothing bad happened to you two! Ah I love yalls nordern accent (me and everyone in this fandom 😂) haha your friend's sense of humor is golden.👌 I'm glad you enjoyed my worst drunken experience, that was the last time I did something like that, I felt bad bc my best friend had to take care of me the whole night and you're right she should've told me it was just a rock! Lucky you you didn't get a hangover the day after, I certainly regretted drinking too much that night however fun it might have been haha.

Like I said before your niece is a really cool kid haha I'm glad you have someone to talk to about Bly Manor, don't know anyone who watches the show and my friends don't like scary stuff so I have to talk to myself about it 😂 and now you! Thank you for entertaining me ;) and I only watch the parts I really like now, I'm tired of crying every time I watch the whole show haha.

Do you do random accents really badly like Dani too? 😂 it is kinda funny your mom said it like that yeah hahaha maybe she just meant the good bits? And I mean, do you think you need help? Lol

I have a sneak peek of that damie fanart here, don't think I'll ever finish it tho. I want to do a medieval AU inspired fanart. Maybe it will also inspire someone to pick up the idea and write it haha.

How's your weekend been so far? My neighbor is making me watch Grey's Anatomy season (???) 500 idk but I wish I was reading that pirate AU instead 😂

Awwh thank you so much!! I will get around to replying to the comment on AO3 tomorrow when I reply to the others I've had a very busy day today though so haven't even had chance to read any comments yet but thank you so much for giving it a 10/10!! I wanna do it as soon as I get chance but I know it's gonna be hard and that I am gonna need a bit more money behind me first but I definitely wanna do it when I can... yeah I've been out of the UK twice- one time I went to France for the weekend when I was doing my A Levels and was like 17 the college I was studying at took some of the art kids and since I was doing a photography A Level I got to go and then a couple of years ago I went to LA for a few weeks which was great but I've never been out of the UK for longer than that!! A nightmare for everyone else but it would be hilarious for us I just know it would haha... I sometimes do I have said some dumb things, I actually used one of my dumber moments as a funny little story in one of my fics- people still laugh at me now for what I said and it's been 10 years... my roommate will not let me live it down!! See surprising people that way is always brilliant like when people just expect you to lose and then you win? That's the best kind of win in my eyes!! I don't cheat at games I am just ridiculously competitive and can't stand losing unless it's something like a video game I am okay with losing those but board games I can't stand losing and I am also a terrible winner my roommate won't play games with me anymore!! I can't say anything about anyone being that kind of a winner because I know I am and one of my sister's is terrible too we literally make a song and dance over winning Oh it was so dangerous and we were so dumb to do it like anything could've happened and we both sit and look back at that and go "man we were dumb" but I also sit and go "oh my god she's gonna be a mum in like 4 months" because we've done some crazy / stupid stuff!! My roommate is without a doubt one of the funniest people I have ever met and she's not afraid to tell it how it is... I'll admit because I have a Northern accent Jamie is like the only character on Bly Manor to not have an accent to me so when I hear people talking about her accent I'm always a little like "what?" Because to me that's just how people talk around here haha I did enjoy your drunken story and honestly we've all been there I have had to be taken care of on more than one occasion for being too drunk like to the point of people having to help me into my pyjamas and everything I've been in some bad ways haha!! She should've definitely told you it was just a rock and not a turtle!! Yeah I've only had one hangover and that was after a night of drinking where I blacked out and don't remember any of the night!! Yeah the night of the drinking is always fun- the hangover isn't though and often makes you wonder if it was worth it haha She's so cool like genuinely just a cool and funny kid and she just asks all the questions about shows she's watched so with me its Bly Manor with her mum and dad it's Stranger Things she asked me about it once but I had to tell her I'd never watched it she didn't seem impressed but yeah I'll talk to her about Bly Manor any day of the week- and you too now honestly I will talk about it to anyone that will listen... I can't not watch it all if I watch it because there's just so much about it that I love even if it makes me cry... episodes 4,6, and 8 are my favourites though and are probably the ones I have watched the most!! Yeah I do random accents all the time and they're always terrible but I always find myself really funny- I had this friend at Uni that had a slight southern English accent because he had spent most of his childhood there before moving up north and he still said certain words in a southern accent and I used to do his accent all the time but it was always terrible!! Oh yeah my mum is pretty blunt with stuff like she'll say things sometimes without thinking about how it sounds that or she just doesn't care like she's said

somethings haha I am sure she did mean the Dani thing in a nice way though because she said she liked her- Dani and Owen were her favourites and I mean some help for me wouldn't be a terrible thing I'll admit haha That fan art is incredible!! Like seriously amazing!! I would love to see some medieval fan art for Damie!! I have been sent a few medieval prompts for Damie and I have started writing some of them but it's taking time to actually get full chapters together but once I have and once I have more time from wrapping up other WIPs I'll make a start on editing and uploading those because medieval stuff is always great!! It's been good thank so far today I went to a little beach town with my mum, 2 of my sisters their partners and two of my nieces (my cool niece was one of them… not that my other niece isn’t cool but you know what I mean) and me, my two brother in laws, and my nieces all played a game of crazy golf while my mum and sisters went to a cafe and had cups of tea... they didn't wanna play with us but we still had fun while we played (I came second which I was very happy with)!! I hope you enjoy Grey's Anatomy and that you get chance to read the pirate AU soon!! It's soo good!! ☺️