#if you chide him for being smart he's like ok but what else am i supposed to call you when you've got your hand wrapped around my cock

[shotmrmiller]

Being flirty with Ghost on a mission, snide remarks, smug insults and pet names like “sweetheart” and “kitten” then you two find yourselves crouched behind something, He’s hunched over you, and you feel something poking at you, probably his knife in its sheath- so you ask him to back up but then this bastard gruffs in your ear like “its not a knife luv”

You come back to the safe house and feel a sense of impending doom for your ability to walk

lmaoooooo says that's not a knife "like i asked, mate, back the fuck up." been around enough horny military men to give af.

okay wait because doing these guys physicals and COMPLETE health check ups and listen, you've seen far too many cocks during your residency and whatnot to be gaping at those heaving things the hung-four-hung have going on. now you're daydreaming about having a totally different type of ache between your legs.

[willadisastercry]

Appendicitis in space...

tw: emetophobia, appendicitis symptoms described, surgery, anesthesia, anxiety.

Coran is secretly shitting himself when the scanner lets him know that this particular human condition requires actual surgery. Most serious injuries they sustained did, but most also could be mended in a pod. This one was an exception, though. Because nothing needed to be fixed, something needed to be removed.

Lance tumbled forward awkwardly as the simulator sputtered and powered down.

“What gives, Shiro? I had that round!”

“Oh yeah? Then that wasn’t me just watching you getting your ass handed to you? Right,” Shiro laughed and he began packing up the equipment that had been pulled out.

“That’s enough for today anyway. Good work, everyone.”

Lance couldn’t even find it in him to continue his protests as he leaned over on his knees to catch his breath while he waited for the cramping in his side to dissolve.

Training that morning had been rough for everyone. Shiro wanted to ensure that the lull in active missions did not leave his team thinking they could kick back. So they worked on hand to hand combat and trained on as hard of a level they could tolerate until they became proficient in whichever skill they were focusing on.

Everyone did pretty well. They all made varying degrees of progress, but progress nonetheless.

Well, everyone except for Lance.

And he was pissed.

So he determined not to quit until he improved from his navice standing with a short sword, running the simulation countless times but barely making a dent.

He fought sloppily, all desperation and no strategy. Actually he did have sort of a strategy if you counted fighting simply to survive and that was not how you were supposed to train, but Shiro gave up on driving that point home early on.

Because Lance was visibly off.

Shiro had chided him earlier for picking at his breakfast, that he would regret it once they began training, but he just shrugged.

Lance barely spoke the entire morning of which Shiro was very wary of given that he was usually the most energetic of the bunch in the mornings.

But he assured the older boy he was fine.

Shiro knew that he had been feeling crappy the last few days so at first he attributed the weird behavior to him probably still feeling gross.

So when he fought sloppily he knew it was because he was fatiguing much quicker than his teammates. That when he got hit by an obvious blow it was because his brain quite literally couldn’t keep up with the battle.

He’d start off okay only to spend the rest of the simulation narrowly feigning off every strike after the first few parries and getting properly clobbered by way too many.

Shiro was glad he was able to recognize his shoddy performance for what it was before he exacerbated the issue, making a mental note to check in on him later that day as he finished cleaning up.

The paladins stalked off to the showers, Hunk and Pidge engaging in a riveting conversation explaining to Keith how the castle’s ‘waste’ was plumbed and disposed of.

He was horrified to say the least.

Lance lagged behind, the exhaustion from the session making his limbs feel so very heavy. Not to mention the knot in his side had never gone away and the trek was only increasing his discomfort as the adrenaline high wore off.

But he resigned that he was just overly tired and that a hot shower would likely help.

And it did, for his aching muscles. But his abdomen was still taut, the steady pulse of discomfort making him a little queasy.

He detached the removeable shower head and held it on his side for a moment. The water was boiling and so the heat seemed to numb the spot, but the pain was still there.

He gingerly began probing the area as he tried to work out what exactly was hurting, thinking maybe he’d pulled a muscle.

His stomach had been feeling weird for the last couple of days, but it had never been a concentrated pain like this.

And as he pressed around he was able to pinpoint the exact spot that was smarting the most so he could rub out whatever the issue was.

But as soon as he put pressure on it he knew he’d messed up.

It wasn’t even the pressure so much as the lack of it because when he removed his fingers to work out the soreness he grunted loudly as pain erupted at the site.

He was so caught off guard by the sudden sharpness that took over the dull ache that he dropped the shower head and it clanged on the tile, just narrowly missing his foot when he hadn’t even made an effort to avoid it.

His vision went white for a second and he stumbled into the wall, mostly due to the intense fear that was now upon him, and it took a second for the blood rush to settle before he could hear his friends knocking on the door of the shower stall.

“—ance? Lance!”

“The fuck is going on in there...”

He took a shuddering breath and called out that he was fine, he was just tired.

“Are you like weak in the knees tired or what? Because if you pass out in there and we have to help you while you’re butt ass naked, I swear—“

“I’m not going to pass out,” he groaned as he leaned his head back against the wall with a hand hovering carefully on his side.

“Okay, you’ve just been in there forever.”

“And Shiro said to keep an eye on you for suspicious behavior.”

“He’s not a suspect, Pidge, he’s just stubborn.”

“Well I am very much okay, so you can tell Shiro that and leave me alone.”

“Jeez—“

“Damn, well if you take a header you’ve gotten your wish, you’re on your own.”

Hunk and Pidge started off and Lance sighed, about to apologize when his side twinged, stealing a more pained sound from his throat.

He leaned his head back and tried to breathe through it, the worst muscle cramp of his life, once again not really being able to pay attention to what else was happening.

The pain wasn’t spreading, it was intensifying. Twisting and burning under each harsh pant, like someone was holding a fire poker to him and moving it around.

It was making his head swim and his stomach churn. He had been nauseous all morning and hadn’t eaten, so he was very confused as to how he could possibly need to throw up now, but there was no questioning it when he almost choked on the saliva rushing to fill his mouth.

He didn’t know when he’d grabbed the towel thrown over the door and tied it around his waist or when he’d made a break for the toilets across the room, he just knew he was moving and that he wouldn’t make it there.

And then he was hunching over one of the many sinks heaving, his side in a fiery protest with each contraction in his stomach.

The blood rush was back in his ears, so he didn’t know that Keith was talking to him or that he was even there until he was hitting his back when he couldn’t breathe in between gags and almost choked on his own sick. The shock of the hit allowed his stomach to break its cycle of relentless clenching.

He spit up the last of the bile that made its way up his throat and ducked his head further between his shoulders as he leaned on the sink while he caught his breath.

His lungs ached and he was dizzy. Everything seemed to hurt from that, all temporarily dulling the bite of the worsening throb in his side.

“Ok, what the fuck was that?” he could hear Keith asking after a minute.

He started to speak, to give an explanation, but he didn’t even know what to say, he wasn’t sure what was wrong. But when he went to talk his side pulsed rather aggressively and he was instantly gagging again.

Not much came up this time though as his stomach had already divulged itself of all its contents.

After he calmed back down, he looked up at himself through the mirror.

He was really pale except for a splash of red across his cheeks, his muscles tight and straining as he suffered through his discomfort and the pain, skin glistening in a mix of sweat and water.

And then he found Keith’s pointed gaze in it.

“Should I get Coran? You look like shit.”

“Ah—uhyh huh...” he struggled to formulate his words through his ragged breaths but got there eventually.

“Ye-yeah, please...”

“Okay, you good here or do you need to sit?”

“I-I’m gonna put... something on,” he stated before pushing himself up from the sink uneasily. Once he was up straight he wobbled a little and Keith grabbed his arm, but he shook him off saying he just needed a second and waited for the swirling black dotting his vision to disappear before heading for his pile of clothes on the bench.

Keith stayed next to him the entire way, making sure he got there without splitting his head open, more worried now then he was when Lance was choking on his own puke.

But he hid it well for the most part, except when he was actually being really nice. That was his tell.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t try and get to the toilet if you need to yak again, wouldn’t want anything to happen to that amazing brain of yours—“

“Hey...”

“Kidding, i’ll be really quick though. And seriously just stay there.”

“Yup, not going anywhere...” he assured, returning his hand to hover over the fire that felt like it was burning a hole in his side, the other waving Keith off.

Lance pulled his hoodie from the pile first. His skin was covered in goose bumps from how cold he was and he didn’t have the energy to put his entire post workout sweat suit on so it would have to do for now.

He shrugged it on carefully, it took a while because lifting his right arm up aggravated his side, but once it was on he felt better. He was still really cold and his hair was still wet so that wasn’t helping.

Pants next. Well underwear first. He found his boxer briefs in the pile and got to his feet wearily. He was still really dizzy and so he decided to proceed with caution and moved over to lean against the wall for this.

He took a deep breath and leaned over to put his feet through. It hurt. The orientation made his head pound dangerously and he straightened up only to feel a twinge from his side.

Fuck, he remembered thinking as he leaned heavily on the wall. But he very much needed to have underwear on when Coran came back, so he tried again.

This time he just dropped his arms down in front of him, keeping his torso straight as he raised one leg at a time through each leg hole.

Success. He breathed a sigh of relief and released his towel then started for the sweat shorts but his body did not like that.

He was none too kindly reminded of how lightheaded and dizzy he still was in that moment and he staggered forward, his foot catching a wet spot on the floor and the momentum of the error took him to the ground hard.

He landed very much on his ass but the fall jolted through his side like he’d gotten shot. If he thought it was on fire before, he was very wrong. This heat was excruciating and nauseating and blinding and gosh it was hard to breathe.

He hadn’t known when he’d laid down but he was suddenly very aware he was writhing on his side, feet kicking and searching for purchase on the tile as he arched through the pain piercing his abdomen.

And then there was a shadow over him. It sounded like robots were talking over him, their cold hands gripping his shoulders and face and turning him to lie on his back.

He had just been so cold but their hands felt so much colder because he was not aware he had started sweating. That wasn’t the only thing coming back to him, so was the nausea rippling through his stomach just as intensely as the fire raged.

He tried to focus his eyes, tried to see the faces over him. It was hard with how everything seemed to be spinning but eventually he could make them out.

“C-Coran, please... p-please”

“I will my boy, but you’ve got to tell me what’s wrong. What’s hurting?”

His hand moved from scratching at the tile to tug on his sweatshirt pocket.

“Where on your stomach? Show me,” Coran ordered as he lifted Lance’s sweatshirt up to his chest.

From the outside everything looked perfectly fine, aside from his abnormal parlor.

So Coran was dubious when he watched the sick boy move his hand cautiously over his side right beside and a little lower down than his belly button, his fingertips barely brushing the warm skin but producing a stiff breath anyway.

“Hm,” Coran mused, muttering a quick ‘forgive me boy’ before he pressed down on and around the spot.

Lance’s scream was drowned by his gag and then Keith was beside Coran, his hands tilting Lance’s face to the side and then pulling his torso that way as well. He thrashed and tried to wriggle out of their grips as he struggled, the pressure of being on the side that was on fire too much as his gut wrenched up nothing but yellow.

“Calm down Lance, you’re okay!”

“Breathe boy, you’re working yourself up and it’ll only make it worse. I think your appendix has ruptured, we’ll need to get you to the infirmary immediately...”

He wasn’t sure what was said after he that, his memory of getting to the infirmary was hazy because of how much it fucking hurt.

He was vaguely aware of curling up in a wheelchair, one hand clutching his stomach and another barely holding open a vomit bag up to his mouth. Nothing was coming up then except for saliva.

He didn’t even remember being lifted into a bed in the infirmary because the movement had unsettled his stomach once more, stealing his breath while he struggled against the vice wrapping around his empty stomach.

They had to put a cannula around his nose to get him extra air while he dry heaved, but he only calmed down after he quite literally almost stopped breathing and Keith ignored Coran’s protest to hit him on the back like before.

He was also sort of aware he had started crying at some point and was reminded of that when Coran was pressing onto his side once more.

At this point he didn’t even have the energy to struggle, he just continued to tremble violently under the touch as fresh tears spilled down his face.

“Hey, shh you’ll feel much better soon,” a new voice assured as they ran their hands through his damp hair. He leaned into the touch and saw that both belonged to Shiro.

“Shit, if I had known you had freaking appendicitis I would never have made you train today,” he laughed sadly.

He shut his eyes closed at that and tried to breathe through the waves of nausea against his pounding headache all topped off by the fire poker in his side.

“Coran what’s the estimated time in the pod for this, you think?” Keith asked as the others were just arriving.

“I’m afraid he cannot go into a pod just yet,” Coran said gravely, not once lifting his face from his tablet.

“Lance!”

“Woah, what the quiznak happened?!”

“He’s so freaking pale, oh my god.”

“It’s his appendix,” Keith offered.

“The scans show that the organ has completely ruptured and is leaking into his abdomen. It is something that can only be remedied with—with surgery.”

“Oh, Coran... is that—something we can even do here?”

“It’s going to have to be.”

The time between when Shiro explained what was going to be happening to Lance and when they were about to put him under went impossibly slow and too fast all at once.

He would gag occasionally but nothing came up with it. They had since attached a bunch of wires all over him and put an IV in his arm that was giving him pain medicine and antibiotics.

It seemed to help a lot with his discomfort and he eased into the bed after they finally kicked in, his body relaxing for the first time in a while.

“I’m n’gonna feel an’thing right?” He asked Coran, his words sloshing together from the mix of utter exhaustion and drugs.

“Of course not my boy, this will take care of that as will the pain medicine,” he assured as he held a weird altean breathing mask in his hands.

“I’m going to put it over your nose and mouth now, just breathe normally and we’ll do a little count down while you fall asleep.”

Coran motioned to place the mask on him, but he turned away from it.

Lance looked around wildly as if he couldn’t see the multiple friendly faces looking at him and the machines recording his heart rate began to pick up, and then was reaching for someone, anyone.

“We’re here! We’re all right here,” Keith said taking up his hand with a wire attached to his finger, Shiro was grabbing the other.

“I-I don-I don’t”

“You’ve got to buddy, you’re really sick,” Shiro soothed as he ran his hands through his hair once more. The touch calmed him only somewhat, his breath hitching once more as he continued to worry.

“I k-know, but I-I’m scared I w-won’t...”

He was crying again.

“Won’t what buddy?” Hunk asked tenderly as his hand fell to Lance’s leg.

“What if I d-don’t wake up,” he managed before his breathing took a turn and Coran rushed to go find a remedy for it, not quite understanding it was mostly him just being anxious.

Pidge was pushing past all the bodies looming over the bed and sufficiently blocking her from being able to help Lance, but once she shoved Shiro forward she was scrambling onto the bed and nuzzling herself against Lance’s good side.

He gasped at her presence but seemed to melt into it soon after he realized what she was doing. She pulled at the hand clutching Shiro’s and placed it on her back so he could feel her calm breaths and ground himself.

“Slow and deep, you’re okay,” she urged and leaned her head against his chest, his sweatshirt was still on but folded up under itself to expose his stomach, a circle had been drawn around the location of his appendix.

He leaned his head against hers and breathed slow shaking breaths.

“Coran it’s alright, he’s calming down on his own,” Keith urged just as Coran turned up with some strange altean herb that was purple and emitting some sort of low cooing sound.

“You’re going to be just fine, Lance. Coran would never let anything bad happen to you.”

“Yeah, and if you feel like taking an extra long snooze we’ll be here to rudely wake you up like we always do,” Pidge added and she could feel Lance relax under her weight.

“I’m s-sorry for being so mean earlier, guys—“

“Shh, no more saying ‘i’m sorry’. Just accept the cuddle and zip it.”

Lance could almost summon a laugh but the pain in his side prevented it.

“Let’s try again with the sleepy time mask, yeah?”

“Yeah...”

He reached for Shiro’s hand again and all of the other hands on him tried to soothe him as best they could as he tensed when the mask descended on his face.

“We’ve gotcha bud.”

“You’ll be just fine Lance.”

“Nothing bad can happen to when you’re being cuddled so viscuously.”

“Okay, let’s start counting back from 10.”

“10, 9—“

“Easy, count slower. You’re alright.”

A second hand was on his head, pushing his hair back and trailing behind his ear. He closed his eyes at the sensation, it was something his mamá would do.

“9... 8... 7...”

“That’s it number three, easy...”

Around 5 he stopped counting. He felt his body becoming heavier and heavier as he breathed through the strange mask, he could feel the gentle but firm touches of his teammates, the only constant as he breathed deeper and deeper, a pleasant haze falling over him.

He could feel the level in Pidge’s breath, and tried to match it, his eyelids feeling so heavy they were hard to keep open.

And then he felt light.

The last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered shut was Allura and Hunk smiling while they said something that was lost on him.

He didn’t care though, he didn’t need to hear it to know what they meant.

He remembered feeling really safe in that moment.

He wasn’t scared anymore.

[bastardtetsu]

critical thinking | ch②

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

genre: college au, enemies to lovers, tsundere!reader, slow burn

wc: 1.7k

warning: swearing, being a theatre major

※ mlist | ① ● ③ ④

after several weeks of douchebag exposure therapy, you’re practically numb to kuroo’s bullshit - for the most part. you still get a bit flustered when you get things wrong, but his teasing barely phases you since you’ve abandoned the concept of speaking to him with respect.

“STILL struggling with balancing equations, y/n??” he chides as you work on your homework, “jeez, maybe i need to start giving you extra assignments.”

“on god kuroo, if you try to make me do any more chemistry than is absolutely necessary i will make sure you never know a day of peace in your life.”

“but y/n,” he teases, “you know if you don’t practice you’ll never get any better.”

“i’m not trying to ‘get better,’ i’m trying to pass the class.”

“ahh, no ambition. you hate to see it.”

“wanna shut the fuck up and let me do my homework?” you snap.

“see, there’s that passion!”

he really is insufferable. you roll your eyes and groan, turning your attention away from the mocking rooster & back to your homework while he gets up to stretch his legs.

what he said wasn’t wrong, you are struggling with the whole balancing equations thing. your brain feels like it’s working on overdrive as you scribble away - numbers are definitely not your strong suit.

you can hear him start to snicker behind you as you work. you pause your writing and turn around to see him peeking over your shoulder with a sadistic smile on his face.

“is something funny?” you ask, unimpressed. his smile softens a bit as you stare him down.

“you’re doing it wrong,” he says, and leans down to correct your work. his face is much closer to yours now, you can almost feel the warmth of his breath as his arm reaches around your right side to write in your notebook while his left hand rests on the back of your chair, practically enveloping you.

resisting the urge to turn and stare at the annoying, criminally sculpted face that’s now inches away from yours, you fix your eyes on his hand as he writes and try to ignore how warm you suddenly feel.

his hands are big, you think, noticing how much smaller your pencil looks when he holds it. you can smell his cologne again, too. sandalwood or whatever.

“there, see?” he says, turning his head to look at you.

your faces are still so close.

what is it about his eyes that makes his stare feel so intense every time?

you quickly avert your gaze back to the page of notes, focusing extra hard on the numbers so you can ignore the beat your heart skipped just now. somehow, the equation in front of you looks even more indecipherable than it did before. and why does your face feel so hot?

“i… still don’t get it,” you admit tentatively. he just lets out a soft chuckle, letting his gaze drop for a second before locking eyes with you, lips curled into a smirk.

“you really are bad at this.”

another electric shock of embarrassment mixed with rage jolts through you.

“yeah, and what?” you challenge, “that makes me dumber than you? ok, well if you’re so smart why don’t you try telling me about willy loman’s superobjective in death of a salesman? or identifying the difference between verse and prose in classical text?? i bet you don’t even know who anton chekhov is, but sure, i’m the idiot because i don’t know how to balance a damn equation. how about learn your shit, and then you can teach me mine.”

kuroo just stands there for a moment, taken aback by your outburst. then the bitch starts laughing.

“what’s funny?!!” you interrogate, your voice getting louder. his laugh sounds like a goddamn hyena.

“y/n oh my god,” he chokes out between cackles, “you’re such a nerd!”

“ME??!!?!” you just about scream, furious, “you’re calling me a nerd?? have you met yourself??!”

“well at least i’m not in danger of failing a class,” he giggles.

“that has nothing to do with this,” you snap.

“so who’s anton chek-whatever?” he prods, still amused.

“see, you’re laughing but you’re the one sounding stupid this time,” you grumble. you can tell he’s just searching for something else to tease you about, but you can’t resist the opportunity to turn the tables & be the one schooling him for once. “chekhov. he’s a famous playwright. from russia. one of the early pioneers of modernism in the late 19th/early 20th century - not that you’d even know what that means.”

“you’re right, i don’t,” he relents, “but you seem like you do. nerd.” his eyes have an extra glint in them as they narrow with another taunting smirk.

“leave me alone, you’re the one who asked,” you groan, finally fed up with his antics. “look, i need to finish this homework before i get out of here. otherwise it’s never getting done.”

“i’ll check your answers when you’re finished,” he offers.

“only if you’re not a dick about it.”

“you only think I’m being a dick when you get the answer wrong.”

“SHUT UP.”

—

as midterms approach, the stress is starting to get to you as your workload gets heavier and heavier. maybe that’s why you seem extra snarky towards your annoying, hot, annoyingly hot chemistry tutor today.

“y/n, did you review chemical bonds like i told you to last week?” he chides after you get another homework question wrong. sometimes he really does sound like a teacher, or someone’s dad. but thankfully, he is neither of those things, which means you can comfortably trash him.

“sorry i have things to worry about besides memorizing how electrons work,” you snark, “what about you? this isn’t even your major, do you not have other shit to do besides come here & make fun of me?”

“hey, i do this because i love it!” he protests dramatically. you can see the smirk in his eyes.

“sure” you sneer back, “look, i don’t know about you, but some of us actually have to work for our degrees. we don’t have time to waste bullying people who don’t know science for fun.”

“who says I can’t do both?”

now you’re starting to get annoyed.

“dude for real. do you know how busy i am?? like, ALL the time??? why else do you think i’m here? i wouldn’t be in this shitty class if i had room for anything else. i can’t even go to my professor’s office hours!”

“ah, well, that explains a lot.”

“shut up,” you jab, “the only reason i keep coming back to your dumb ass tutoring hours is because my schedule is so goddamn packed i can’t meet up with anyone else.”

“sure, whatever you say y/n,” he croons, tone dripping in sarcasm.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“oh you know,” he teases, eyes full of mischief. you really don’t though?

“you’re full of shit,” you mutter dismissively. he’s trying to egg you on to say something stupid so he can ridicule you for it, but you can see right through him.

“i’m not the one dodging the subject,” he grins, his eyes unmoving from you as you turn back to your paper. even facing away from him, you can feel his laser beam of a stare on you as if he were breathing right down your neck. ha, i wish. wait— “you know, you’re not gonna get very far on that worksheet if you didn’t do any review.”

“would you be quiet?” you snap at him, fed up with his condescension, “or better yet, maybe do your job and help me figure it out?”

“well,” he purrs with a sickly sweet smirk, “only since you asked so nicely.”

you make sure to roll your eyes extra hard at him to make up for the way your heartbeat quickened at his flirtatious tone.

thankfully, he actually obeys your request this time and tones down the teasing as he explains chemical bonds, doing his best to help you through each homework problem step-by-step. usually he can tell when you’re actually getting irritated and makes up for it like this. you’re silently grateful for this form of kindness from him, even if it’s only because you’re a nightmare to work with otherwise.

as you wrap up your session with him - late once again, but he never minds staying past the end of his tutoring hours since he has the rest of the day off anyway - you hurriedly pack your things, grumbling a complaint about how now you don’t have time to get something to eat before you meet with your scene partner to rehearse your acting midterm. while it’s pretty normal for you to miss meals because of your schedule, it’s frustrating nonetheless, especially after your brain has just been fried by molecular bonds.

“oi, y/n,” kuroo says as you turn to leave. you pause, bracing yourself for whatever stupid comment he’s about to make.

“take care of yourself,” he says, a tinge of concern just barely distinguishable in his tone, before adding, “and remember to review covalent and ionic bonds!” you sigh. he sounds like a dad again.

“see, those are contradictory statements,” you gripe, “chemical bonds could not be further from self care.” he chuckles softly at that.

“at least make sure you eat, ok? maybe you’d get better at chemistry if you had more nutrients.”

“BYE, kuroo,” you call out, already headed for the door.

as you hurry towards your next destination, you can’t get your mind off of how weird it was to see kuroo acting… worried about you? normally his reaction to your struggling is just to tease you about it, but this was new for him. you’re not sure how to feel about it, and it’s hard to tell when the adrenaline of being in a rush is making your heartbeat do all sorts of things that might be confused with something else.

either way, there’s no way you’re reviewing a goddamn thing before next week.

a/n: yeah ok my theatre major jumped out in this one.. i can’t believe i’m posting a fic where i talk about superobjectives & chekhov unironically dsfdddfs hope that doesn’t ruin the experience for u, i really tried to do some research so y/n and kuroo could have an actual discussion about chemistry but turns out i’m dumb in real life so u get this instead

[monomonomagines]

How the would the DR2 boys react to finding themselves cornered by a killer with their s/o, but their suddenly throws glitter into the face of the killer and grabs them and runs off to safety?

I’ll try not to ramble too much as usual but I really enjoyed this request. It’s so simple but silly at the same time so I hope that what I wrote can be just as amusing to you. If not, feel free to tell me I goofed and I’ll gladly fix it up for you! Thanks again for requesting, I hope it’s to your liking! 

Teruteru

Teruteru may seem calm from his usual disposition but he’s quick to lose his cool when he’s backed into a corner.

As soon as he’s cornered with you next to him, he’d be ready to try to protect you.

He’d try his hardest to make it so that you could get away even if he couldn’t.

He’d be fine as long as you were ok, so he’d hold his arms out in front of you ready to defend you long enough to get as far away as possible when you’d pulled out some glitter and flung it into the would-be killer’s face.

Getting some glitter granule in their eyes they couldn’t help but to bring their hands up to their face in pain, dropping their weapon.

You could’ve stayed there and overpowered them or something but as this was your chance to get out you decided to take it.

You grabbed Teru’s hand pulling him along as his eyes were still wide in shock.

“How’d yah know ta do that?” He asks, accent slipping out due to pure shock.

“Oh, I didn’t. I was just desperate to get away so I guess it just came to me there.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

Ultimate Imposter/BBB

As someone that cares for all of his friends, the Ultimate Imposter would be willing to sacrifice himself to keep anyone else safe.

He’d be especially willing to do that for you though. He’d protect you at all costs just like he promised to do so for everyone else.

He’d valiantly announce that he’d take care of this fiend and tell you to run like Teru, only he wouldn’t hesitate in the slightest.

He was always prepared for any situation so he could deal even with someone cornering the two of you.

What he couldn’t handle was you disregarding his orders, staying beside him to reach into your pocket.

“S/o, didn’t I tell you to run!?” He lectures quite angry until you throw a handful of glitter into the face of the attempted murderer.

The look on his face was absolutely priceless but you knew you didn’t have time to admire how hilariously shocked he looked.

You had to get out of there! You took his larger hand in your own running away as he composes himself.

“Why did you disregard my order? I had the situation under control.” He chides, quite shaken up still.

“Well, we needed to get out of there and I didn’t want you to take a murderer on alone. You always protect everyone else so can I not protect you?” You ask, a bit sad that he didn’t seem happier that you both were safe.

The Imposter knew you meant well but he was just worried that you could’ve gotten hurt but seeing you sad felt just as bad as if you had been.

He’d sigh, grabbing your hands in his again with a small smile. “I am thankful, I just didn’t want you to risk yourself. You mean everything to me.”

Nekomaru

To corner Nekomaru was no small feat.

He was normally able to kick anyone’s ass that would dare to hurt the two of you.

That wasn’t the case now when the two of you were backed against the wall with a murderer mere inches away.

Like the Ultimate Imposter, he wouldn’t hesitate to protect you.

He was quick and strong there was no way he’d let that killer put a hand on you.

However, as ready as he was to fend off the killer, he really wasn’t ready for you to suddenly fling a handful of glitter their way.

The now would-be killer would cough as they inhaled some of the granules and Nekomaru would definitely take that chance to pick you up and run out of there.

He might not be as bright as the Ultimate Imposter or the others but he is definitely going to shower you with praises after.

“I would have never thought that glitter would work! You’re amazing S/o!”

Gundham

For Gundham Tanaka, Overlord of Ice to be cornered was no small feat.

How dare a simple naive like that corner and threaten the two of you.

He would be afraid although he wouldn’t show it and would resort to more flourished speech, threatening to vanquish that foe when you’d begin to reach into your pocket.

Expecting something that really could only dwell inside his own mind, Gundam would already be threatening the fiend that you were preparing an attack of your own.

However, the pure shock on his face told you that glitter was not one of the flashy attacks he had pictured.

He was frozen in place as though he really were made of ice and if not for you dragging him along probably would have remained that way.

However, once he does recover he is singing your praises.

“That was spectacular, my Dark Messiah. How did you know to deliver that fiend with a fierce sparkling cloud of doom?”

Not wanting to burst his bubble even with the weird name of your attack you just tell him, “Well, I’m always prepared to fight alongside my Dark Lord!”

Cue a whole lot of boisterous laughter coming from Gundham.

He’ll be so happy that you two overcame that murder attempt that he may even forget that you two were ever cornered in the first place.

Nagito

For the two of you to be cornered by a killer when you were supposed to be on a romantic stroll was just his luck.

He knew that his luck would probably take you, the most important person away from him so he was desperate to protect you.

Nagito moves fast even if he’s weak but he never felt so slow in the same moment that you reached into your pocket for something.

Why weren’t you running? He’d take his luck with the killer, he was more than willing to yet here you were reaching into your pocket for something.

As Nagito was ready to literally fling himself at the attempted murderer with everything he had he suddenly found himself blinded by a cloud of glitter.

He couldn’t tell what was going on but he could feel your hand and hear the clattering of the murder weapon falling to the ground.

It was no exaggeration that the glitter granules getting into his eyes killed but he was glad that he could tell the two of you were safe.

As soon as you two would stop running, he’d be trying to get more granule out of his eyes as delicately as he could while singing your praise.

“I was totally useless, but you S/o. You were amazing! Absolutely spectacular even! I don’t how I could ever deserve someone like you.”

He grins at you through his pained expression as you let out a sigh.

“I only did that to protect us both. Which includes you Nagito. You’re my boyfriend and I love you.”

“Aww, you love garbage like me?”

Oh boy, some things never change now, do they?

Kazuichi

Kazuichi was known to panic just at the notion that someone may try to kill him but for it to actually happen made him a total mess.

He was rather cowardly despite his big mouth and as much as you loved him, it could make scenarios like your current predicament worse off.

Kazuichi was totally paralyzed as soon as he understood what was going on.

Were you two really going to die here and now of all places?

He could feel his knees giving out as they drew closer, weapon in hand but as much as he felt like he could pass out he wanted to protect you.

He was ready to fling himself at the murderer, similar to Nagito. However, he definitely wasn’t all too keen on dying.

He was already a mess, tears and snot streaming down his face as he’d yell out, “I won’t let you hurt S/o!”

That was probably the worst thing he could’ve done though as right at the moment you took aim at your assailant, throwing a cloud of glitter into the air.

The glitter did do what was intended, harming the would-be killer but it also did quite the number to Kazuichi who had inhaled it.

You’d help him later but for now, what you needed to do was to grab his hand and run.

By the time you guys were far away enough, he’d be crying out about how awful that glitter was to get in his mouth more than anything.

“My throat still feels like it’s coated in the stuff!”

Man, was your boyfriend charming or what?

Fuyuhiko

The fact that someone dared to try to kill you and Fuyuhiko had him pissed as all hell.

He was ready to throw down and if not for you intervening would have nearly gutted the attempted murderer with their own weapon.

Immediately colliding his fist with your assailant’s face, you knew you’d need to intervene before he got hurt or possibly killed the other person so you stuck your hand in your pocket.

Fuyuhiko, not knowing what you’re up to though, would only be more pissed as you’re not running while he’s literally fistfighting an armed murderer.

“What the fuck are you doing S/o!? Get out of here before-”

Poof! A huge cloud of glitter was flung right into the murderer’s face as Fuyuhiko instinctively dodged whatever you just did.

If Fuyuhiko wasn’t dead set on getting out of there, you were sure at this moment he’d be cursing up a storm but for the time being, you grabbed him by his hand and dragged him along.

He’d catch on quickly, running alongside you until you were sure you were safe.

Then it was time for him to interrogate you.

“Why the fuck did you do that!? I could’ve handled that you know!”

He was red in the face with some glitter stuck in his hair as he let go of your hand, balling his own into fists.

“I was protecting us!” You tell him but he wouldn’t hear any of it right now.

It wouldn’t be until later that he’d acknowledge that you actually did the right thing.

“S/o, I know I got pissed with you earlier but that…that was actually pretty smart what you did there.”

Hajime

Hajime didn’t deny the possibility of being cornered or even murdered in this Killing Game, but for the both of you to be was another story.

Hajime knew that you were invaluable to him. He’d never want to leave you but he’d want to keep you safe more than anything.

He’d be willing to do whatever that’d take, even if it meant buying you enough time to run away.

He thankfully reacted quickly unlike Kazuichi, he was already planning on getting the murderer to chase after him as you’d run in the opposite direction but before anyone even went running something odd happened.

Why were you reaching in your pocket?

He was so confused that he was thrown off long enough for the murderer to lunge forward towards the two of you, only to be met with a face full of glitter.

“S/o, did you just!?”

Hajime would barely be able to get a word out as you drag him along telling him you’d explain later.

It wouldn’t be until a while after you two had slowed down that he’d finally wrap his head around it and even then he’s trying to make sense of it.

“Did you have that just for that occasion?”

He looked skeptical at his own question but he was still rather insistent so you decided to tell him the truth.

“No, I just happened to have it on hand.”

“Huh? I guess it was a good thing you thought to use it then.” He’d remark, still a bit shaken up. “We should go tell the others what happened.”

[justahopelessssromantic]

Thinking Out Loud

Ok so I just of something. Maybe a imagine or something based one of the song "Shape of You", "Perfect" or "Thinking Out Loud" by Ed Sheeran with Angel pretty please 🥰😏💜💕 @gemini0410

A/N: Happy Birthday Babe! Or at least it’s still your birthday here lol. I meant to get this posted earlier in the day but that didn’t exactly happen 🤷‍♀️ Anyways I hope you have/ had an amazingly beautiful day ❤️ Thank you so much for the request 🥰 I hope you enjoy. I actually took inspiration from both Perfect and Thinking Out Loud for this one💖

*gif not mine*

Warnings: Lots of Fluff 🥺

Angel had his arm wrapped around you as you sat on the swing of your back porch enjoying the cool, crisp air of the night. The crickets chirping along with the faint music from your Bluetooth speaker were the only sounds occupying the night as you enjoyed the company of one another.

It was a lovely Friday night, the two of you having the house to yourselves as your teens were having a sleepover at a friend's. It was crazy how fast time flew by but you wouldn't have asked for anyone else to share it with. Your life with Angel wasn't perfect but it was filled with love and that's really all you could ask for.

The speaker began playing the next song quietly and you both perked up your ears, smiling at the other in the realization that it was your song. Standing up he extended his hand out to you. "May I have this dance, amor?"

You smiled looking into his eyes as you took his hand in yours and he led you out into the yard. Your song played quietly behind you filling you with fond memories. Wrapping his arm around your waist with your hand in his the two of you began swaying to the soft music. He spun you around a few times before bringing you back and pulling you close.

Angel smiled down at you thinking how lucky he was to have found a love for him in you. “You know,” he murmured softly to you as you swayed, “People fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just a touch of the hand.” He brought your connected hands ’up to his lips, placing a sweet kiss to the back of yours. “Me, I fall in love with you every single day.“ He continued reminiscing on your love, “I never knew you were the someone waiting for me. We were just kids when we fell in love, I never thought I’d get the chance to marry my best friend.” He continued twirling you once more grinning because of how your dress flowed around you just like that day. “Who knew we’d find love right where we were.”

You giggled coming back together snuggling against his chest. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“Just thinking out loud.” He smirked holding you close.

You recalled the day as well both smiling fondly at the memory. “I’m pretty sure I kicked your ass that day.” You teased grinning up at him and making his heart melt.

“Yeah, you did, but only because I let you.” He chuckled. Really you took his breath away that night, running off with his heart forever. Angel let you because as long as his heart was in your hands he knew he’d be alright. “If I remember correctly we made it to third base that night,” He smirked, flashing you a wink.

You gasped, playfully smacking his chest and letting your hand rest there upon his beating heart, “You barely made it past first.” You teased back.

“Yeah?” He asked, raising his eyebrow, “and how’s the game going to go tonight? We gonna make it all the way home, mi amor?” He wiggled his eyebrows earning another playful smack to the chest.

You rolled your eyes at him before bringing your hand to rest on the side of his face. You looked into each other’s eyes seeing those two kids together under the stars as clearly as if it was yesterday. That day was the beginning of your future together, a day you’d cherish forever.

Angel sat in the back of the large banquet hall picking at his food as he stared across the room where his Mom, Pops, and little brother were sitting at a table talking to potential college scouts who had attended the championship game that night. They had taken a liking to his brother, impressed that he was only a sophomore imagining the potential he had to grow the next few years.

Angel hated this, hated how everyone practically fell to his younger brother's feet. For Angel it seemed like EZ had everything, he was the golden boy after all, but at least he didn't have you.

No you were all Angel's. You had been best friends for years now and he didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have you by his side. No he did know what he'd do, he'd drown and fade into the background. He'd be lost without you.

You scrunched up your nose poking at the tuna salad which seemed far too warm, "Yeah I'm not eating this." You said pushing the plate back on the table. These sort of events were never your thing but you had gone to the game to support EZ, well more like to support Angel and had tagged along to keep him company. You knew how hard these things were for him, especially since if he had just had a little more support, someone more in his corner it could have been him sitting there talking to the scouts, planning a bright future for himself.

But he didn't so he was hidden in the back of the room filling up with jealousy. Everything just reminded him of that exact fact.

"You okay?" You asked twisting on the bench to face him more as you brought a leg up.

"Yeah, fine." He grumbled through gritted teeth still staring ahead at his family.

"There's no use in lying to me Reyes, you know that." You said, setting your hand comfortingly on his thigh, "Come on, how about we get out of here?"

He thought it over in his mind a moment. He should stay, that's what was expected of him, but it's not like his family would even notice if he disappeared. "Yeah," he agreed nodding his head as he turned to you, "They won't fucking miss me anyways."

You swung your leg over the bench standing up with Angel behind you. He stole one last glance back, hoping maybe someone in his family would notice but they didn't. Shaking his head in disappointment he turned back to you and followed you out the door without a second thought.

You walked down the middle of the street looking up to get a view of the big dark sky full of thousands of sparkling stars as you did so. It was your favorite sight in the world, you'd get lost in it if you didn't have Angel to pull you back.

"Damn it, querida." Angel said grabbing your arm and stopping you just before you ran into someone's parked vehicle. "What have I told you about that?" He chuckled, "You're uncoordinated enough as is why do you always think you can walk while looking up like an idiot."

"Because I have you to watch out for me," you teased realigning yourself with the street and continuing down your path.

"Where the fuck are we even going?" He asked trailing behind you. He wasn't in the mood for much of anything and his lack of motivation in his steps showed.

"It's a surprise." You called back to him, eyes focused on the road in front of you, "Now come on Ignacio, put a little pep in your step. Your legs are long as shit. You have no excuse for slacking behind me.

He rolled his eyes but did as was told anyways catching up beside you. You smirked, still refusing to look at him. He watched your face grinning himself. For him you were the view he'd never get tired of, but he'd never tell you that. He didn't want to spoil what the two of you had. You were too important to him. He'd rather suffer by pining for you forever than lose you as his best friend.

"We're here," you sang as you reached your destination while he was distracted by his thoughts.

Angel looked away from you and at the large baseball field before him. "What the fuck are we doing here?" Why the hell would you think this was a good idea?

"I want to play a game," you said matter of factly leaving him behind as you walked up to the gate. It was closed by a chain and lock but you were able to pry it apart just enough for you to squeeze through and into the field.

"What the hell is going on?" Angel muttered to himself as he watched you. This was very out of character for you. You were the smart sensible one, he the reckless one, that's how your friendship worked. That balance is what worked, was needed and here you were flipping everything upside down on him. He let out a sigh before following you and slipping in behind you. "You know we're gonna be in deep shit if we get caught." He reminded you hoping he could maybe talk some sense into you.

"Well that's not going to be a problem," you smiled sweetly, "cause we aren't going to get caught."

Keeping on your mission you walked further in. Angel jogged up beside you to catch up with you once more. “Okay, so please tell me how the fuck we are going to play a game with no equipment?”

“We will have equipment. You just need to be more patient.” you chided. Angel was a lot of things, but patient was not one of them. In all those years by his side you learned that pretty quickly.

“I am patient,” he grumbled under his breath crossing his arms. Rounding the corner you came face to face with the shed where the team stored most of their equipment. Angel looked at the building and then back to you still grinning like an idiot putting the two together. “No,” he scolded you, “I don’t like being this guy but you put me in this fucking position.” You pouted immediately at his words hoping to sway him to your side. “Don’t give me that look. This is on you, querida. I’m the one who is supposed to be pouting because you told me no not the other way around.”

You sighed looking down at your feet and wiggling your toes in the gold sandals you were wearing, “Fine you’re right.” You muttered looking back up at him. You turned taking one more look at the shed before twisting around and walking away from it. “You couldn’t even get it unlocked anyways.” You said with your back to him. You smiled to yourself knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge.

Angel let out a long sigh before mouthing “fuck” to himself before he called out to you walking away from him. “Fine, you win. I’ll do it.”

It wasn’t long before Angel had jimmied the lock opening the shed up for the two of you to peruse. You ran your hands all along the bats causing them to clatter together as you walked past. Angel was on the other side testing out some mitts before he found one that satisfied him. He then dug through the box next to them pulling out a baseball cap. Holding it behind his back he swayed over to you. “I got something for you.”

You turned around his words stealing your attention. “Really? What is it?”

Angel grinned bringing it around and setting it on top of your head. You smiled adjusting the cap to fit on your head better. “Thank you. How do I look?”

Perfect he thought but kept that to himself. “You look alright. Red’s a good color on you.”

“Well you better get yours and I’ll meet you out there.” You instructed him before slipping a wooden bat off the rack they were being held on and heading out the door and to the field.

Angel caught up once more just as you were slipping your sandals off and tossing them to the side. “You sure playing baseball in a dress is such a good idea?” You looked beautiful in the flowy dress you had on, the hem just hitting above your knees with the body hugging your features perfectly. “I’m already at an advantage, seems a little unfair.”

“Haha.” You mock laughed. “I can kick your ass just as good in a dress as anything else. Just try not to get too distracted.” You taunted him.

If only you knew how impossible that was for him when you were around.

“Alright you’re pitching.” You said stepping up to the plate with your bat in hand, swinging it around.

Angel rolled his eyes at you. You looked ridiculous, but he decided not to say anything. He walked over to the mound readying himself to pitch. He wasn’t going to go crazy on you or anything. He was an amazing pitcher with a killer arm, he knew that and so did you. You’d watched him help EZ practice many times and would always feel a tinge of sadness by the potential he had but just wasn’t able to use.

“You ready?” He called out.

“Yep!” You leaned forward sticking your butt out a little waiting for the pitch.

Angel watched and was about to throw the ball before he shook his head. “Fuck, no that’s all wrong.” He said walking towards you as you gave him a puzzled look, “If we’re gonna play then we have got to fix all this.” He said motioning to your stance.

“What?” You asked, “what’s wrong with the way I’m standing. I’m just doing it like everyone else.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know who you’ve been watching babe but that is not what everyone else does.” He slipped the mitt off his hand and tossed it into the grass beside him before coming up behind you. “Here,” he said, reaching around and taking hold of your hands. You could have sworn you felt some jolt of electricity at the touch and your heart began racing being flooded by all sorts of new feelings. He moved your hands along the bat adjusting your hold on the smooth wood. Next he moved his hands down adjusting your hips, his warmth radiating through your clothes and making your face feel flushed. Bringing his hands back up to hold the bat over yours once more he began showing you how to swing properly. You gulped, you could feel his body pressed against yours, his breath brushing softly across the nape of your neck sending chills all down your spine.

Your hands were clammy as you began to panic internally. Shit you were falling for your best friend. You couldn’t think of anything in that moment that could have possibly been worse than that.

“There just like that,” he murmured, his deep voice in your ear doing nothing to help your new predicament.

He felt it too, the rush of being so close to you, the urge to spin you around and kiss you as if he couldn’t breathe and you were the only thing that could provide him with oxygen, with life. You were so close and he never wanted to let go.

But he did, and the intense moment was gone just as quickly as it had happened leaving you both disappointed and wanting more. However neither one of you wanted to push it, unsure of the other’s feelings.

He swallowed, his throat was dry and scratchy as he stepped beside you. “Alright, ready?”

All you could manage was a small smile and a nod. Nodding in acknowledgment Angel went back to the mound. The first ten or so pitches you missed and Angel would give you tips and pointers. You were beginning to get a little frustrated.

“You got this,” he called out to you before pitching another your way.

You were more determined this time in your swing and your heart practically lept in your chest by the cracking sound of the ball colliding with the bat. Your smile was enormous as you squealed and jumped up and down. “I did it!”

Angel laughed as he watched you. He was just as excited and happy as you if not more. “Yeah, but now you gotta run.” He called out.

You laughed before tossing the bat to the ground and making your way to first with ease. By now Angel had the ball and was ready to tag you, blocking your path to second. You stood there in the stand off a moment before you decided to make a break for it and ran out into the field.

“Where the hell are you going?” He called out laughing.

“To second,” you called back, turning around to face him and practically taunting him to come get you.

He shook his head before heading your way. The two of you ran around laughing as you dodged his attempts to get you, just feeling young and free, enjoying your time together.

You were now on the other side of the field the bases a good distance away from you. Angel was blocking your path once again. You tried to fake him out by going left and then darting right but his reflexes were too fast. He quickly reached out and grabbed you by the waist pulling you close as you both laughed. You were now breathless as the laughter died down and you realized just how close you were again. Angel’s hands were holding you in place by your hips and yours were now on his chest from trying to break free. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like forever. It was in this moment that Angel could see a future in your eyes, his future all laid out before him.

You were so close to him and with the rush of emotions and longing for you he got caught up in the moment. Leaning down he brought his face closer to yours and you his. The pull was magnetic as you gravitated towards each other, getting so close your lips were just barely touching when the cold shock hit you causing you to scream out.

You pulled back laughing once more as you were now both completely drenched, the sprinklers soaking the field around you. Angel grabbed your hand pulling you off and away to the side of the field where you were protected from the cold water. The grass stuck to your legs and feet as you wiped it off. After you looked down at your now drenched dress practically dripping. “Damnit,” you said, taking your appearance in,“I look like a fucking mess.”

Angel watched you taking in every detail of you as he had so many times. You looked anything but and without thinking he was whispering under his breath, “you look perfect, tonight.”

You were brushing off more grass when you heard him, just barely above the sound of the spraying sprinklers around you. You could have sworn your heart stopped for a moment and you looked up at him smiling.

His eyes grew wide realizing what he had said. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down suddenly feeling very warm under your gaze. He tried to think of something to say, to muster up some sort of excuse to cover his ass. He fucked up and he was terrified of what you’d say next.

You didn’t say anything. Instead you just closed the gap between the two of you and took him into your arms. It was time one of you decided to throw caution to the wind and take charge. He wrapped his arms around you following your lead, his heart beating out of his chest. You smiled at him and the next thing he knew you were tangled up into the best kiss of his life, kissing under the light of a thousand stars.

The two of you would remember that day forever.

You held each other close dancing in your yard. You lived for these moments with your husband. Of course you loved your kids more than anything but that just made these peaceful moments when you were alone together just that much sweeter.

You reached up and he leaned down to meet you halfway pulling you in for a tender kiss. Each kiss was just as good as the last with you. He could drown in you. You sighed into the kiss relaxing against his body. Holding you close he pulled back and looked into your eyes getting lost in them. For him they held his past, present, and future. They held his heart, you held his heart, and there was no one he’d rather entrust it with.

He may have been Angel but you were his angel and you were perfect. He couldn’t understand how he had gotten so lucky but he would be damned if he did anything to jeopardize the life you had built together.

Angel rested his forehead against yours. Taking in your scent he breathed out into the cool night air. “I don’t deserve this. You look perfect, tonight.”

Everything Tag List: @jad3djay @fairygardenss @carlaangel86 @briannab1234 @starrynite7114 @agirllovespasta @howaboutash @gemini0410 @naytraydr @knowles-morgan @woahitslucyylu @everyhowlmarksthedead @ktiz90 @brothersofmayhem

[krizaland]

hey hey; im so sorry. I tend to request a lot. I don't expect you to do any of them; but this request is for my friend. Both me and him like Zib, and from what I know you and him are friends. I can tell he's been very very down lately. He's been hiding it but; I can really tell he is not doing good at all. Do you think you could do a Zib x Male!Reader for him? or a Zib x Trans!Male reader? Since he happens to be trans and there isn't any x trans readers for Zib or Zim. you don't have to do this

You have nothing to be sorry for, Anon! I do hope this cheers up our friend!

The sounds of video game achievements and phone notifications echoed from your room as you happily tapped away at your favorite video game, only pausing to check your phone to text your friends.

Minutes turned to hours and your stomach began to rumble.  

You paused the game and decided to go to the kitchen to grab a snack.

On the way to the kitchen, you passed by your mom who was rotting away at her desk as usual.

“Hi mom, just going to grab a snack!” You chirped with a wave.

“Whatever, Y/N. I don’t know why you’re telling me that.” Your mother grunted as he eyes remained glued to her computer screen.

You groaned internally. Your mom was, yet again, being passive aggressive.

“You never listen to me about the dishes! You loaded the dishwasher but you didn’t run it! I had no clean dishes for breakfast this morning!” Your mother chided as she turned to look at you.

Of course it was about the dishes. Your mom was always mad about the dishes.  

Dishes loaded in the washer out of order? You got yelled at.

Refusing to touch mushy, foul smelling food your father left floating around in the sink? You got yelled at.

Not putting away the clean dishes despite them all being soaking wet? You got yelled at.

If your mom saw even one dish out of place, she’d screech so loud it would put Zim to shame.

You were growing more and more tired with each passing day.  No matter how well you did the dishes, they would never be good enough for your mom.

However, you were in no mood to escalate things further. You knew you weren’t going to win an argument against your mom. At least not with your eardrums and personal belongings intact anyway.

You doubled down and hung your head low.

“I’m sorry I didn’t look full-”

“Well it was! But I’m the bad guy for trying to parent you right?! Honestly, Y/N you’re so disrespectful!” Your mom ranted.

Soon your mom’s words melted into static as she shrieked her lungs out.

This wasn’t the first time your mom blew up at you over little things.  Even things as small as moving a blanket just an inch out of place was enough to throw your mom into a rage-induced frenzy.

Despite dealing with your mom’s constant tantrums your whole life, you still felt a few tears drip down your cheeks.

Her words still hurt, even though you've heard them all before.

Lazy, spoiled, brat, disrespectful son and many more insults were flung your way as you stood still and tried to block them all out.

As your mom continued her rampage, your mind begun to wander to think of your brother.

He never seemed to get half the amount of abuse you did. In fact, he was allowed to pretty much do whatever he wanted as long as he told mom where he was going.

Your brother was never even asked to do the dishes, let alone endured abuse over them. Even if he tried to do them, he wouldn’t even know how to do it mom’s way.

Heck, the dishes aside, it always seemed like your brother was favored more than you were.

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING, Y/N?!”

The sound of your mom’s rage filled shriek jolted you from your thoughts.

“um…”

“Wow! You weren’t even listening! You know what?! Go on! Do whatever you want! I don’t care!” Your mom snarled as she turned back to face her computer.

For once, you took her up on her offer and went back to the kitchen.

You grabbed your favorite snacks and trudged back to your room.

After gently closing the door behind you, you saved your game and placed your snacks on your desk.

You sighed as you plopped into your chair and began to stuff your face.

“Maybe she’s right. Maybe I am a terrible son…..”

KNOCK! KNOCK!

“Y/N! I know you’re in there! Can you let me in! Please?”

You let out a soft chuckle and playfully shook your head.

You were wondering when Zib was going to crawl in through your window to say hi that day.

“Alright, Come on in, you goof.” You chuckled as you opened the window.

The moment the window opened, Zib rolled inside and sprung to his feet.

“You know, you really gotta stop locking your window, Y/N. It makes it really hard for me to visit you.” Zib pouted as he dusted himself off.

“The last time I left my window unlocked, you crawled through my window at 3am.” You reminded as you went back to your snacks.

“What? You know this PAK doesn’t let me sleep! Besides! You were totally happy to see me!” Zib winked as he put a hand on his chest.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack but ok.” You muttered as you kept eating.

“Well-Wait! Something’s not right. You’re normally a lot happier to see me. Are you ok? No one has been hurting my darling boyfriend right?! Right?!” Zib asked frantically as he jumped onto your desk.

“No! No! No one is hurting me. It’s just…..” Your voice trailed off as you let out a sigh.

“It’s just what?! What is it! C’mon! You can tell me!”

“It’s just my mom. She yelled at me, as usual.” You grumbled as you went back to your snacks.

“Oh. Well don’t let that old bat get to you, she’s just bitter and cranky.” Zib said reassuringly as he patted your head.

“Eh well, I’m just starting to think she’s right though….Maybe I am terrible-”

“DON’T YOU DARE SAY THAT! YOUR MOM IS WRONG! YOU’RE NOT TERRIBLE! She just can’t get it through her thick skull that you aren’t perfect!” Zib ranted as he pulled your face close to his.

“Zib! It’s more than that….”You sighed as you pulled your face out of his grip.

Zib opened his mouth to protest but realized that the last thing you needed was more yelling.

“Look, just because you make mistakes doesn’t make you a terrible person. Your parents should consider themselves lucky to have a son as amazing as you! You’re smart, talented, funny, not to mention incredibly kind! So what if you can’t please a bitter old bat? There are countless people out there who would kill to even be in the same room as you!” Zib ranted as he folded his arms.

While Zib’s words towards your mom were a little harsh, you were touched by his sentiments.

You opened your mouth to speak but Zib continued.

“And if anyone else is too stupid to see your greatness then, at least you have me! At least I understand how wonderful you are!”

“Really? Even though I’m lazy?”

Zib’s face softened a bit.

“Y/N, you’re not lazy and even if you were, that still wouldn’t make you a terrible person. There are far worse things you could’ve done than skip out on a few chores. Believe me, I know.” Zib ran a hand down his PAK.

“Zib….”

“Y/N, you’re amazing in every way….Don’t ever let anyone, not even your parents, tell you otherwise.” Zib sighed as he scooted closer.

You looked up at Zib and smiled.  He may have been criminally insane but by god that boy loved you.

Noticing your snacks were finished, you let out a soft chuckle.

“Heh. I suppose you’re right. Hey…Do you wanna cuddle or something?” You asked gently.

Zib’s yellowed eyes lit up as an excited grin spread across his face.

“I thought you’d never ask!”

And with that, Zib jumped onto your bed and patted a spot next to him.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you plopped down next to him.

Zib pulled you close to his chest as a few tentacles from his PAK put down a small towel under his chin so he wouldn’t drool on you.

You closed your eyes as you listened to the sound of Zib’s shriveled heart beating.

“I love you, Y/N….”

“I love you too..”

[theinvisibledoodlewizard]

Chapter 1

The Wasus

Once upon a time, not in a fairy tale, or a long time ago in a distant galaxy nobody cared about, there was a boy named B. He was an ordinary boy, he didn't come from the future and he didn't have any special powers. He did well in school, but he didn't qualify as a nerd. The only thing odd was his name, B. His parents hadn't named him B, no one had, yet everyone referred to him as B. It wasn't his idea either. Maybe it was a childhood nickname that stuck so well that they couldn't peel it back off. Or the doctor who wrote his birth certificate was a lunatic in hiding. Whatever the case, B was the only name anyone remembered calling him.

As he woke up a completely ordinary day, B got dressed for school. He went down stairs and found his Mom cooking waffles, B's favorite.

“Get washed up B,” chirped his mom, “wouldn't want you being late for school.”

“OK, Mom,” replied B.

He got washed up and sat down at the table. As his Mom brought over a couple waffles, she remarked “Your father had to leave early today, so it will just be you and me this morning.”

Reaching across the table, B's mother served him a couple pieces of bacon from the platter. If there was anything that B liked more than waffles it was bacon.

B quickly scarfed down the meal. Then grabbing his school bag called over his shoulder, “See you this evening, Mom!”

“Be home before dark B!” his mother called after him.

B looked around as he walked to school taking in all the familiar sights. He passed Old Mister Richardson's butcher's shop, Mrs. Ra's fashion department, and finally Mister Bob's circus which was in town. B couldn't wait to see the animals in the show; they were his favorite part.

The school day was as humdrum as usual, math, science, with English last. At recess, B hung out with Rick Hortner. They'd been best friends since the first day of kindergarten.

He also tried to get the attention of Janet Franklin, a girl in B's class he had a crush on. She either was oblivious to his attempts, or just ignored them. At least they were friends, and only friends, when B wasn't completely invisible. Goes to show that throwing pieces of paper only got you so far.

. . .

As B was walking home from school, he heard an odd noise. He turned to see what it was, but he found nothing there, so he continued on his way. Then, he heard it again, “wasus wasus wasus” He whipped around again.

There standing in front of him was a huge beast with big yellow eyes, sharp white teeth and long claws on its four giant hands, which extended from its four big arms.

“Hello,” it greeted in a surprisingly sophisticated accent, “I am terribly sorry if I startled you, old chap, but I was wondering if you might be the one they call B?”

B stared at the thing with an astonished look on his face. “What, uh, what's going on? What are you?”, he stammered.

“Why, I am a Wasus of course,” the Wasus replied with a surprised look on his face. “You mean to tell me you have never seen a Wasus before?”. B shook his head.

“I say! Were you not paying attention to your kindergarten read aloud time? A wasus was hiding behind the third tree on page six of the Dick and Jane book See Spot Run!” the Wasus stated.

“That's one of my little brother's favorite books, I've never seen one of you in there,” retorted B shakily.

“Well of course you wouldn't!” exclaimed the Wasus, “It was hiding behind the tree!”

B blinked.

“Now answer the question, are you the fellow they call B?” the Wasus inquired.

“Maybe I am, or maybe I'm not,” said B carefully. He had never met a wasus before, and he wasn't sure he could trust one. This one was being civil enough but if he said he was B then it may attack him.

“You are either B or you aren't, you can't be both. If you try then it will be confusing to both you and to everyone else!”, the Wasus said. This thing was smart, but also humongous, so B sprinted away as fast as he could. The Wasus only sighed then jumped high into the air almost appearing to fly, before landing squarely in from of B.

“There is no need to run young fellow, I won't hurt you,” stated the Wasus reassuringly. “We wasuses are very scary, but we do not harm people unless we have to.”

“But those huge claws and teeth, it looks like you could eat me whole!” cried B.

“Well yes, but I'm a vegetarian, and I doubt you would taste good anyhow,” the Wasus

replied with a wink. “So, now that you know that no harm will come to you, are you the one they call B?”

B froze for a moment. He still didn't know if he could trust the Wasus, but it looked like he was outsmarted. B slowly nodded while the Wasus smiled.

“Very good. Well then, I suggest that we head to your house promptly so I may explain why I am here,” said the Wasus cheerfully.

B looked astonished, “My house! But you won't fit through the door, and if my parents see you!”

The wasus smiled and replied, “Don't worry, old chap, they won't see me.”

B looked even more worried, “But how? You're as big as our SUV!”

The wasus smiled even wider, then disappeared.

B looked around frantically, but it was gone, “OK... I've officially gone crazy.”

B heard a chuckle behind him so he turned, but nothing was there.

“Lead the way, old chap, I'm still here, just invisible you know,” the Wasus snickered.

B turned and kept walking home, every step bringing him closer to the conclusion that he was insane.

. . .

When they finally got to B's house, it was getting dark.

“Where have you been B?”, his mother chided him, “We've been worrying. Your father was about to start a search party.”

“I got stopped outside school talking to Jan,” B said defensively.

“Well, you did get home before dark like I asked, so go up to your room and do your

homework, then come down for dinner,” she ordered.

“OK, Mom,” replied B.

B trudged up the stairs, hoping the Wasus wouldn't fit through his bedroom door. But when he got in his room the Wasus was already waiting for him, sitting on his bed munching on a carrot it had stolen from the kitchen.

“How did you get through my door?” B asked not sure if he wanted an answer.

“Wasuses can do lots of things, old boy,” said the Wasus with a grin, “Turn invisible for one, and shrink down to fit through small openings. I have been through much smaller doors than that.”

B just nodded; he couldn't comprehend why this was happening to him.

“I had the pleasure of bumping into your little brother, quite a nice young fellow,” said the Wasus sarcastically.

B bowed his head, he had lied, but he had been so scared he hadn't known what to do. It had been his favorite book when he was little.

“So... what do you want with me?” asked B, blushing slightly.

“Well,” replied the Wasus, “I have come to see if you are well, pleasantries and all. And also ask if you would like to join the wasuses for the Great Tea Party of the Wasuses.”

B stared, “The Great Tea Party of the Wasuses? I didn't know you things existed until an hour ago, and now I'm invited to their tea party?”

“Of coarse,” replied the Wasus as if it was obvious, “Each hundred years all the wasuses come together and meet for a tea party, family tradition and all that. Well we invite one human, and a friend or two, of their choosing, to come as well. And this year you have been chosen.”

B sat down on his bed next to the Wasus, as he tried to wrap his head around what was going on. Then queried, “So, I get to go to a big fancy tea party with any two of my friends and a lot of wasuses.”

“Correct,” replied the Wasus, fishing out another carrot, from a pocket B hadn't noticed hiding in its fur.

“When is this tea party? Are there any restrictions to who I can bring? What's the catch?” inquired B suspiciously.

“There is only one thing you must do, old chap,” the Wasus said thoughtfully, “You and your friends must keep all the wasuses safe in case of an attack,” the Wasus paused for a moment to contemplate, “But nothing has interrupted the Great Wasus Tea Party in all of its history. Other than that, you may bring anyone you like, as long as they aren't wasus hunters, couldn't have you bring anyone dangerous, you know. The tea party will take place the Saturday after next, if you are willing to participate,”

B was quiet for a moment, then nodding his head he replied, “Sure Mister Wasus, I only have one more question,” replied B.

“And what might that be?” the wasus asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“How do my friends and I get there?”

“Well of course I would pick you up, old chap. It's far too long a way to walk,” replied a snickering Wasus.

B and the wasus smiled at each other then the Wasus said, “I must know the friends you are going to ask as well though, I must run a background check on them. Can't have you bringing any enemies of the wasuses to the tea party by mistake.”

“Sure Mister Wasus,” B replied, “I'm going to ask my best friend Rick Hortner and a girl from my class Janet Franklin.”

“Very good choices, old chap, for it just so happens, we have already run a background check on them. We had a feeling you would pick them,” the wasus replied with a wink.

“OK...” B said, a touch worried that wasuses could also read minds, “Could you maybe come to my school tomorrow with me so that when I ask them, they won't think I'm nuts?” B asked.

“I cannot go to your school, I'm afraid Mister B, but I can wait at the playground about a block away,” the wasus answered.

“Alright,” said B, “I'll see you after school I guess.”

And with that, the wasus disappeared.

This is a silly story I’ve made. Hope you like it!

Chapter two

[rollzerox]

Can you do a JaeYona fanfiction prompt for me? I want a story where Yona's problem with not eating for long periods of time when she gets really stressed resurfaces? I noticed that Yona had that problem mentioned a couple times in the series, but it never really gets brought up again, and I could see Jae Ha and some of the others getting really concerned over it. I hope this isn't too sudden, but I'm surprised that there aren't more fanfictions that bring it up and I'd like if somebody wrote one

Thanks so much for the prompt anon! I’m sorry this took me so long I’m working on my backlog of prompt immediately during current events hope you like this take for my Castle AU series where Yona is queen of Kouka

“Daddy! Daddy!” tiny voices could be heard running across the hallways of the palace as King Jae-ha turned to see his twin children rushing towards him. He was currently sitting with his cane watching Hak, Ura, Hawke and Shiro practice, Lina bouncing her 6-year-old Krystal in her lap and giggling at her silly siblings. The child squealed when she’d feel her unborn sibling kick at her, considering Lina was 6 months pregnant with her next child. Sitting next to her was her second daughter, Jin-ae, who was named after the first Queen of Kouka, Hiryuu’s wife.

 “Here comes Aki and Mido, Uncle Jae-ha.” Hinto, Shin-ah’s 10-year-old son chuckled as he at saw them coming with his dragon’s eye.

 “Aka-dori? Mido-ka? What is it?” Jae-ha asked once the two children arrived. They were 5 years old, the girl with long raven hair and the boy with short ginger hair.  The girl had clear blue eyes and the boy had green.

 “Mommy won’t eat!” Aki cried, whimpering. “The cooks don’t know what to do she didn’t eat breakfast and now she says she doesn’t want lunch.”

 Hak stopped his practice run and sighed, shaking his head. “… She’s still upset over…” he glanced to Zeno who nodded.

 “We all miss former Seiryuu and Hakuryuu.” The Yellow Dragon answered. “It didn’t help they passed only a year apart. Not to mention former Ryokuryuu lately has…”

 “Oh please, I’m just fine.” Jae-ha waved him off. “I mean seriously Lina’s 22 now, I honestly thought I would have long kicked the bucket by now.”

 “Yeah and you fell down the stairs the other day again, Droopy Eyes.” Hak growled. “You gave her a heart attack.”

 “Hak come on, you have enough on your plate.” Jae-ha looked at him sadly, after all Valerie had just passed away in childbirth a year ago. “No point in me bothering you all the time to get around.”

 “But I can help you uncle!” Shiro, the current 12-year-old Hakuryuu said while extending his arm.

 “Precious child.” Jae-ha hummed, petting the boy on the head. He sure had his father’s enthusiasm.

 Tetora smiled as she hugged her son from behind. “You’re always so eager to help.”

 “Really guys I’ll tend to my wife, lead the way treasures.” Jae-ha hummed, Aki and Mido eagerly rushed back in. “But don’t run or you’ll…”

 “GAH!” Gigan, Jae-ha’s middle daughter growled as the twins nearly plowed her over when they ran past her, the 16-year-old looking rather annoyed. “Aki! Mido! Watch where you’re going!” she growled as she almost dropped the books she was holding.

 “Done with your lesson already Gigi?” Hawke called out to his older sister.

 “Yes which you skipped!” Gigan snapped at him, her eyebrow twitching at the nickname. “What kind of prince are you when all you want to do is run off and learn fighting with our Uncle Hak? Seriously you can’t solve everything with your muscles idiot.”

 “Not everyone enjoys lessons like you do Gigan.” Lina giggled.

 Jae-ha laughed, petting Gigan on the head. “My smart little treasure. You’re going to make a fine queen someday you know.”

 That made the raven-haired girl blush. “F-father really I mean I would be honored if mother were to choose me but I’m not the oldest…”

 “You really think Lina wants the throne?” Jae-ha snorted.

 “Hell no, I’m traveling with Ura after the kids are grown.” Lina rolled her eyes and took her husband’s hand. “I’m a Ryokuryuu my job is to protect our mother and eventually I’ll protect the future king and queen. Which could be you and Shiro when you get married.” She teased.

 Shiro practically choked as he turned red at that. “I-I-I… T-that’s n-not funny Lina!”

 “LINA!” Gigan’s face turned into a fireball. “I’m not you I don’t go around marrying our cousins!”

 “Please, Kija and I weren’t exactly blood brothers just dragon brothers.” Jae-ha hummed. “Otherwise Shiro & Hinto would be Lina’s brothers with their dragon connection. Besides look how happy Ura and Lina are you know I sure won’t complain…”

 “FATHER THAT’S NOT FUNNY!” Gigan shouted, looking ready to explode. “GAH! Why am I the only normal one in this crazy family?!”

 Jae-ha laughed how his daughter would always have a meltdown over things like this. The rest of his children got his carefree attitude and Gigan was more like her namesake it made me smile. “Anyway where’s your mother? I hear she’s being stubborn again.”

 “In the library.” Gigan answered after she settled down. “One of the scholars just dropped off a new scroll with her and she said she was putting it away…. She was forcing a smile so I was going to bring her a new specimen from Kai that my instructor brought.” She held up an orange colored orchid. “Give it to her father, you know new flowers for her garden always cheers her up.”

 Jae-ha nodded, smiling as he took the flower. “I will my dear. Try to not let your siblings drive you insane.”

 Gigan looked at him deadpan. “Don’t ask for the impossible, father.”

 Jae-ha snorted, then kissed her forehead and headed on for the library. His twins ran so far ahead of him he shook his head as they found their mother first, her back to them and not even noticing they entered as she was looking over a scroll.

 Tears floated down Yona’s cheeks as it was a new illustration of her and her Four Dragons surrounding her, along with many of the tales the scholars sat her down and made her recall because they wanted to make a full record of the second incarnation of King Hiryuu. Shin-ah’s funeral was only a few weeks ago and she still wasn’t over the loss of both Kija and Valerie. She sobbed to herself as she clutched the parchment close, hating the fact her family was slowly being torn apart but at the same time blessed she had so many happy years with them…

 “Mommy!” Aki and Mido were suddenly hugging her ankles, snapping her out of her trance. “Mommy! We brought you something!” the twins bounced on their toes as they pulled back.

 “Oh what is it you two? Don’t tell me you’re trying to butter me up because you set the garden on fire again.” Yona sighed, bending down to her kids to pet them on the head.

 “No mommy that was an accident we swear!” Aki whimpered.

 “Even though it happened three times.” Mido squirmed.

 Jae-ha chuckled as he walked in. “They’re just worried about you my lovely, here. A gift from Gigan.” He handed her the flower, bringing a small smile the queen’s face.

 “It’s lovely.” Yona said, joining him in standing. “But you should be resting.” She scolded her husband.

 “I’m behaving.” Jae-ha hummed, leaning on his cane for support. He tried to hide the fact he was trying to catch his breath from the walk over, lately just getting out of bed was a chore for the aging dragon.

 Yona brushed her fingers over his bangs, noting the sweat on his forehead as she chided him. “You can’t hide from me, husband. Sit down.” She pushed him into a nearby chair that the twins helped bring closer. “Or else I’ll let our terror twins tie you down again.”

 “Can we mommy?!” Aki cried, excitement dancing in her eyes.

 Jae-ha snorted. “Now you’re using the kids against me, that’s not fair love.”

 “You use them against me so it’s only fair.” Yona giggled, kissing him playfully as she pulled away. “Aki, Mido, go get something from the chefs for daddy along with his medicine from Grandma Yoon ok?”

 “Ok mommy!” Mido darted off, Aki rushing after him.

 “I’ll only eat if you do.” Jae-ha said in a sing-song voice.

 Yona made a face. “I’m not hungry.”

 The Ryokuryuu sighed, grabbing her hands. “… Love… Come on it’s not your fault. You know Shin-ah and Kija wouldn’t want you to feel guilty.”

 “But…” Yona choked, tears in her eyes as her hands trembled. “If only I wasn’t… And one day the same will happen to our own daughter and then… I was so absorbed in worrying about you I never thought that they would…”

 Jae-ha pulled her into his lap, giving her a long kiss full of love while caressing her back. “Shhhh, it’s ok love. It’s only natural, my successor was born first after all everyone even Zeno expected me to die by now. It’s a strange miracle I’ve lasted this long. Guess Ik-su wasn’t kidding when he said our child is twice blessed and I wouldn’t die as soon as I thought.” He kissed away her tears as he brushed her crimson hair. “But that doesn’t change the fact that they both loved you and wouldn’t want you upset. They lived wonderful lives here by your side and found their beautiful wives. Their children are safe here and we’ve basically broken the curse of Ryokuryuu and Seiryuu villages as their lines will continue here where they are celebrated not hated. We might even mix dragon blood with the way Gigan and Shiro are crushing on each other.”

 Yona rolled her eyes. “Stop playing match maker with our children.”

 “It worked with Lina didn’t it?” Jae-ha hummed, kissing her cheek. “… Please love, you’ve barely ate anything all week or do I have to pop another treasure inside you to make you take care of yourself?” he offered, fluttering his eyelashes at her.

 Yona turned bright red at that, squirming in his lap. “… I-I… I can’t do that, they might never meet their…” she sadly brushed his cheek.

 “Think of it as me leaving you a treasure behind my love.” Jae-ha hummed, pressing his forehead against hers. “Besides we know they won’t be lonely with as many siblings as they’ll have. Just think about it love.” He gave her another kiss. “After all I don’t seem to have the stamina I used to in my prime.”

 “What a crime.” Yona giggled slightly, smiling warmly at her husband. “… Thank you Jae-ha… You and all the dragons helped me find the greatest happiness in my life. I just…. Hate the thought of waking up without you by my side.” She choked.

 Jae-ha looked at her sadly. “… I know, I feel the same. But the kingdom and our family need you love. Besides… You know I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

 “Jae-ha….” Yona sobbed, her eyes threatening to let out another waterfall of tears until she heard the sounds of her twins rushing back into the room.

 “We got food mommy! You gotta eat too!” Mido said, holding up a tray that was bigger than he was of food as Aki was holding Jae-ha’s medicine.

 Yoon stood in the doorway as he came behind them, holding a second tray. “Yona how many times have I told you that you can’t skip meals like this?”

 Yona pursed her lips as she crawled out of her husband’s lap. “… I told you kids just to get your father’s medicine not tell on me.”

 Aki giggled. “But Grandma Yoon is your advisor and he can advise you to eat!”

 “Not like she ever takes my advice when it’s about her health lately she’s as bad as her husband.” Yoon rolled his eyes, looking over Jae-ha and handing him a powder. “Now take that or else you’re on bedrest the rest of the week.”

 “Thank you mother.” Jae-ha teased, though the boy genius was so used to it that didn’t even faze him anymore.

 “We just don’t want you to get sick mommy please?” Aki bat her eyes at Yona, looking ready to cry. “Daddy gets sick enough and you take care of him so who’s going to take care of you if you feel bad?”

 “Me probably.” Yoon mumbled under his breath.

 Yona groaned as she took a seat, her twins at her legs immediately trying to force her something to eat as she sighed and grabbed a bread roll. “Fine, I’m eating are you guys happy now?” she then had the kids put the tray down on the table full of books as she lifted them into her arms, kissing their cheeks. “You two are too precious, so worried about me and your silly daddy.”

 “Because daddy makes you cry when he gets hurt!” Mido whimpered. “You’ll make daddy cry if you get sick.”

 Jae-ha hummed. “That’s right dear, don’t you know it’s a crime to make the king cry?” he tried to tease.

 “Don’t you start.” Yona snapped. “It’s not my fault I was tired last week and you insisted on trying to carrying me to my room like a stubborn fool.”

 Yoon groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m the one the kids got when they found you two at the bottom of the stairs.”

 “So I can’t land as gracefully as I used to…” Jae-ha rubbed his cheek in embarrassment as he chuckled, then grabbed something off the tray for himself to get the bitter taste of the medicine out of his mouth.

 Yona sighed at that. “Sorry. I guess I have been worrying you guys just…”

 “Well all miss them.” Yoon gave her a hug. “… Just know that you aren’t alone, ok? And we can’t lose you too. This idiot will probably jump off a cliff to join you if you die on him.” He jabbed a thumb at Jae-ha.

 “Yoon not in front of the little ears.” Jae-ha groaned, not exactly denying it.

 “No die mommy!” Aki and Mido clung to their mother tightly. “You can’t leave us!”

 Yona wilted at that, hugging her twins tightly. “… You’re right. I’m not leaving you kids anytime soon I swear.” She kissed each of their foreheads. “And now go tell daddy he can’t leave you either so he has to stay stubborn for at least a few more years.” She smirked, letting them go as they rushed to their father.

 “Daddy! Daddy! You too!” Aki cried, clinging to his legs as Mido tugged on his robes.

 “Oh you little darlings I wouldn’t dare leave you just yet, I have to keep seeing all the trouble you get into come here!” Jae-ha smirked, lifting the kids into his lap and smothering them with kisses. “My precious little treasures.”

 Yona smiled at the sight, hoping that her precious family could stay together just a bit while longer…

[sariasprincy-writes]

Hollow Point 30

One // Two // Three // Four // Five // Six // Seven // Eight // Nine // Ten // Eleven // Twelve // Thirteen // Fourteen // Fifteen // Sixteen // Seventeen // Eighteen // Nineteen // Twenty // Twenty-One // Twenty-Two // Twenty-Three // Twenty-Four // Twenty-Five // Twenty-Six // Twenty-Seven // Twenty-Eight // Twenty-Nine // Thirty (here) 

Chapter Thirty A Shot in the Dark

"You do have an actual plan, correct? To bring down Akatsuki?"

Sakura just smiled upon Hashirama's question. This wasn't the first time he had asked her this over the course of her short visit, but rather than bring her unease or the need to sooth his concerns, she found herself amused.

"No," she answered honestly. Then she added quickly before his frown could fully form, "And that's why it's going to work. Because if I haven't yet figured out how I'm going to take out Madara and his operation, then he won't know either."

Hashirama sat across from her behind a large, oak desk in the middle of his expensively furnished study. He looked like someone of importance, someone of nobility behind it. It made her wonder if he had chosen it simply for that purpose.

"I do not approve of that idea," he told her sternly.

Sakura shrugged as she pretended to brush lint off the leather arm of her wide, plush chair. "I have your money. And Tobirama's men and my guns. There is little else I need to win this war."

"I do not like your confidence either," he frowned, his tone just short of chiding. Then he sat forward in his chair as if he had just decided something important. "I will help you strategize. Together, we can make a plan. One that I am sure will end with Madara dead and Akatsuki dismantled–"

"No," Sakura interrupted with a quiet but firm tone. "I have enough moving parts already. One more cog in the machine will complicate things. Make it easier for a part to stall. And this late in the game, I can't have any failures."

Hashirama eyed her. He stared at her so long she thought he might argue more. But then he leaned back again, the faintest glint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "You still talk like you are speaking Arabic."

"It's a pretty language. It's a shame you never learned it."

"Perhaps one day."

Sakura sincerely doubted that but she smiled pleasantly nonetheless. "Perhaps."

Then she stood, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles from her black, leather jacket. "Don't be too upset with me for my vagueness. I need you out of the line of fire. Once Akatsuki is taken out, someone will need to be there to swoop in to take their place before someone else can."

"Not you?"

His hard gaze didn't waver from hers but she smiled softly. "This is what I promised you, Hashirama. To take down Akatsuki so you can take their place in the New York Underworld."

His reply was a pleased smirk. A little dark, a little twisted. Knowing that he was satisfied with her words, she picked up the glass of brandy he had poured her at the beginning of their meeting and tossed it back all in one go. She didn't flinch at the burn. Simply smiled her farewell before she made her way out of the room.

One of Hashirama's staff was there to open the front door for her as she made her exit. They waited until she was down the marble staircase that led to the large, circle driveway before silently shutting it once more.

Only once Sakura was through the tall, iron gates and off the property did she finally feel Hashirama's gaze leave her. Her thoughts churned slowly as her conversation with Hashirama played over in her head. She hadn't been completely honest when she told him she didn't have a plan. She had one forming, but she'd need more information before she could organize the details and set it into motion. Something she hoped Ino could help her with.

They met at a little but busy café in Upper Manhattan. Ino was already there when Sakura arrived, sitting in the corner with a large coffee in a white, porcelain cup. The blonde drank it daintily, making sure not to spill it on her white blouse. In this setting, she looked like an accomplished businesswoman rather than a woman who knew something about everyone in the Underground.

"Any news?" Sakura asked, sliding into the seat across the small table.

"Nothing on the port you took over," she sighed disappointed. "All I know is Akatsuki is about to bring a huge shipment over, one big enough to rival Hashirama's supplies, but I don't know when. I keep listening for more information, but everyone who knows something either hasn't been given a date yet or they're keeping it all hush-hush."

"That's not surprising," Sakura said, sounding less disappointed than she was. "Madara knows that I'm speaking with the CIA. He'd want to keep that information under wraps."

Ino's eyes widened. "He does? Are you safe?"

"Never, but it's fine. Have you heard anything else?"

The blonde looked like she wanted to ask more but she reluctantly let it go. "Yeah, actually. I heard rumor that there are some Akatsuki members are in the city."

That caught Sakura's attention. "Who?"

"I don't know all their names, but for sure Deidara, as well as the arms dealer. The really big one."

Kisame, Sakura thought. It was news to her that he was back in New York, Itachi hadn't said anything to her, but she didn't say anything to Ino. It was best for everyone involved if as few people knew about Kisame's true loyalties as possible.

"Anyone else?"

Ino shook her head. "That's all I've heard. I'm meeting with another contact tomorrow night. I'll have more information later."

Sakura nodded slowly. "Let me know what you."

They lapsed into silence after that. Sakura lost in her thoughts and Ino quiet as she sipped her coffee. Some minutes passed before Sakura realized the blonde was watching her.

"What?" she asked.

Ino's gaze didn't waver from hers, unchagrined at being caught staring. "What's going on?"

Sakura shook her head, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you're different. Something happened. Something's changed."

"Nothing happened," Sakura said. Then she let out the longest sigh someone had ever breathed. "But you're right: something has changed." When eyed her curiously, Sakura told her, "We're no longer just small time. We've moved up into the big leagues. There're greater rewards. Greater risks. So, I need to ask you something."

Ino's brow furrowed in confusion. "Ok?"

"Do you still want to stay?"

The blonde didn't immediately answer, as if a little lost for words. "You're asking if I want to leave you?"

"I'm asking if you're willing to lose everything. Your freedom. Your life."

Sakura felt her heart drop into her stomach when Ino's gaze fell to her coffee. When she raised them again, there was understanding and something strong reflecting in her blue eyes. "You're my best friend, Sakura. I know Shikamaru tried to shake you, that he blames you for dragging me back into the Underground, but it was only a matter of time before I came back myself. What I'm trying to say is…" she said with a small, unwavering smile, "wherever happens, happens. I'm not going anywhere."

Those words clung to Sakura even after she left the café. They filled her with a warmth she couldn't remember having for a long time. Knowing that her longest friend had her back and always would. She worried for Ino's safety, of course, but Ino was smart. Sakura knew she would keep herself safe. And if she did need help, Sakura would be right there. No matter Shikamaru's opinion of her.

However, her conversation with Ino had left her curious. Back in her condo, Sakura pulled her phone from her pocket. She spun the device slowly between her fingers as she considered her next move. Then she unlocked the screen and dialed out. Itachi answered on the first ring.

"I was just about to call you," he said.

"Hopefully to tell me that Kisame is back in New York."

His surprise was evident in his voice. "Yes, actually. How did you know?"

"I have every eye on Akatsuki. I know," she said, examining her nails.

"Well he has information for us," he told her, unperturbed by her lack of answer. "We need to meet. Tonight."

"It'll have to be somewhere discrete. Somewhere off the grid."

"Why?"

Sakura didn't immediately answer as her attention turned away from inspecting her nail polish to the view outside. Below, people hustled by in spring jackets, the morning drizzle likely to give way to afternoon sun.

"Madara knows about us," she eventually told him.

Itachi was quiet on the other end of the line for a long minute. Then he murmured, "How much danger are you in?"

Not exactly the response she was expecting but it made her smile nonetheless. Just a small upward turn of her lips. "None more than usual."

Sakura waited as he fell silent again. She could almost hear his thoughts through the line as he decided what he wanted to do. "Do you remember the place we first met? Officially."

Sakura's brow furrow as she thought back to all those months ago. Her first thought was Israel, but back then he had been undercover in another agency's uniform. Then she recalled that night at the club. How he had been alone in that upstairs balcony. She had bought them both shots if she recalled correctly and he had introduced himself in that utterly sexy, black button-down shirt.

"I remember," she said.

"Meet me there at midnight."

"Midnight it is. And Itachi," she said before he could hang up. "Wear that black shirt again."

Then Sakura ended the call. There was a brazen smirk on her face as she pressed the edge of her phone to the underside of her chin. Even without him standing before her, she could see the surprise that would be written on his face before it gave way to a soft smirk. It was one of her favorite expressions.

Then she chased the thought away. She needed to focus. Because she didn't doubt Madara still had a tail on her that she would need to shake if things were to go well tonight. And she wouldn't be going in alone.

xx

Just before midnight, Sakura arrived in Lower Manhattan. Ino was already there dressed in a sparkling blue dress and a pair of stiletto heels. She gave Sakura a onceover as they met on the third floor of an underground parking garage a few blocks away. The blonde took in her black, lacy dress. It wasn't Sakura's favorite but it hid the gun in her skirt and the one along her ribs well.

"You partying or working business?" Ino asked, her tone vaguely teasing.

Sakura answered with a smirk as she spun once, making the skirt of her dress flare. "Have to dress the part, don't I? How do I look?"

"Like you could be here to seduce or kill someone. I honestly don't know," she answered, making Sakura laugh. Then she sobered some. "I swear, Madara has an obsession with you if he's been following you for over six months now."

"I think it's closer to eight at this point," Sakura said unperturbed. "It's getting a little annoying. I had to drop my car off across town and hitch another one just to lose my tail."

A frown crossed Ino's face upon hearing that. "You think this is a good idea then?"

"Probably not, but I have business I have to discuss tonight. Are we ready?"

Ino nodded. "I talked to Choji earlier. He roped off the upstairs for you. Nothing too noticeable, but it should give you enough cover to do whatever you need to do. Just try not to shoot anyone. I don't think he'll welcome me back if I cause him any trouble."

"This should be a friendly meeting," Sakura told her. "Any shooting wouldn't be by me."

"Well…" the blonde shrugged, "we both know how trouble likes to find you."

Sakura couldn't disagree with that. But then again, she supposed that's what happens when someone does what she does for a living.

"Alright, we should get going," Sakura said with a glance at her phone. "I want you to watch the front door. Text me if anyone comes in that even looks remotely out of the ordinary. I don't think this meeting will take too long. I'll text you when we're on our way down."

"And you're sure you don't want me to wait for you afterwards?" Ino asked.

Sakura shook her head. "No. If someone is watching, I want us to leave separately. But don't worry. Kakashi is around."

With that said, the women left the parking garage to head towards the club. It was just as Sakura remembered with its tall windows and flashing neon lights. Deep bass spilled out onto the street and throbbed beneath their feet as they approached.

Choji greeted them at the door. Ino pressed a friendly kiss to his cheek and murmured something in his ear before he let them pass. He gave Sakura a vague warning look as she stepped past the entrance door. Not so much a threat but more of a plea for her not to start any trouble for him. She smiled comfortingly before she followed after the blonde.

Side-by-side, Ino and Sakura descended the staircase into the club. At the bottom, it opened up into a large room where guys and girls dressed to party weaved through each other. The dancefloor was already packed, as were the bathrooms and the bar, both with lines a few people deep.

Neither Sakura nor Ino could hear one another over the heavy beats or the hundreds of voices already talk-yelling over the music. But they didn't need to. Ino glanced at Sakura to which she nodded. Then they went their separate ways.

In the back, Sakura found the staircase that led to the second floor. The door was shut with a bouncer a few feet away, but he said nothing as Sakura approached. Only opened the door for her without a word.

As soon as the door closed again behind her, the music dulled. She could still feel the heavy bass pounding through her chest and under her heels, but it was muted enough that she could talk without shouting to be heard. Or eavesdropped on. Exactly what she needed.

To her surprise, the upstairs room was empty. Neither Kisame nor Itachi were there yet. Which was a little surprising since the latter was usually the first to arrive.

Nevertheless, Sakura did a single circle about the room. She paused briefly at the railing that overlooked the rest of the club, her khol-rimmed eyes scanning the faces below carefully. None were familiar to her, nor did any have wandering eyes.

She checked her phone again. There was nothing from Itachi. Nor was there any news from Kakashi, whom was perched somewhere nearby. Her silent and deadly eyes.

There was nothing left for her to do but wait. And so she lowered herself into one of the plush chairs and did just that.

Sakura didn't have to sit long before she heard the door downstairs open, followed by light footsteps on the steps. Even without glancing over her shoulder, she knew it was Itachi. She would recognize his footfalls anywhere and against her will, a small smile spread across her lips.

"Hello, darling."

He stopped behind her before he braced his hands on either side of the armchair to lean over her. "Hi," he murmured in her ear.

The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down her spine and automatically heat began to pool low in her stomach. She gave away none of this though as she peered at him out of the corner of her eyes. "You're late."

"It is twelve o'clock exactly. I am perfectly on time," he told her.

Even with the music in the background, she could hear the smugness in his voice. She shot him an unamused look. "You think you're so hot."

"I am hot or need I remind you again?"

Sakura turned her head fully to regard him, her expression torn between being unimpressed and amused, but before she could answer, another spoke behind them. "Are you two going to flirt all night or can we do what we came here for?"

Kisame's voice boomed over the music. Itachi froze for one moment before he straightened and stepped away from her.

Sakura couldn't resist her smile as the Israeli Agent joined them. She made a point of looking him over as he stepped further into the room, taking in his jeans and dark blue, button up shirt. "Don't despair, Kisame. You're hot too."

She ignored Itachi's gaze as Kisame sent her a flat look. Her smile stuck as the men joined her. Itachi took the chair closest to her while Kisame grabbed one nearby and dragged in closer. Only once they were all settled did Itachi speak, his earlier playfulness gone and replaced with only business.

"You said you had something for us. Something important."

Kisame nodded. And got straight to the point. "Akatsuki's shipped. Everything's on its way here."

Like clouds rolling in over a summer sun, Sakura's entire mood changed. She shifted in her seat, sitting up a littler straighter. Nothing but business on her mind. "When?"

"It'll be here in four days' time."

"That is not a lot of time to plan," Itachi said.

Kisame merely shrugged. "That's all the notice I have to give."

"It takes over a week for a cargo ship to cross the Atlantic. Why are we just hearing of this now?"

"Because that's all I was told. They're delivering guns, money, drugs to a warehouse in Southern New York. It'll be the biggest shipment they've sent here in years," he told them all, his expression just as solemn as both Sakura and Itachi's. "Enough to take control over the Underground. Enough for them to fully take root in America permanently."

Sakura didn't outwardly react to that as she sat back in her chair. Her mind was reeling, already racing through what needed to be done if she had any hope, any chance of overthrowing Madara and Akatsuki.

"How did you hear of this?" Itachi asked, continuing the conversation.

"Pein told us," Kisame replied. "He's ordering all members of Akatsuki not tied up in Egypt to relocate to America."

"Not Madara?"

Kisame exhaled through his nose slowly. "We already had this conversation, Itachi. I didn't know of Madara's involvement in Akatsuki. As far as I'm aware, I'm the only one who knows he's the true leader. And that is only because you told me."

Itachi frowned in reply but Sakura spoke before he could continue, "Where?"

Kisame turned to her, his confusion evident. "Where what?"

"You said Akatsuki was delivering the shipment to the south," she repeated slowly. "Where in the south, exactly?"

"To a warehouse in Brooklyn just east of Borough Park," the Israeli Agent told them. "That's where Pein has had it ordered to."

Itachi's brow furrowed. "Isn't there an Army base just south of there?"

Kisame nodded. "He figured the military wouldn't think to look for it under their noses."

"He's smart," Sakura said with a small smile.

"Incredibly," Kisame agreed reluctantly, his gaze lingering on her. "Which means that you two need to come up with a plan to intercept the shipment. That warehouse is heavily guarded and even more heavily armed. It'll take next to an army to bring it down."

"Or me."

Both Kisame and Itachi looked at her when she spoke. She couldn't help her growing smirk as she told them, "I took over that warehouse nearly a week ago. It's been under my control ever since."

Kisame stared at her a long moment before he gave an unamused laugh. "That's not possible."

In the other chair, understanding dawned on Itachi's face. "That's the other warehouse."

Sakura smiled while Kisame frowned. "There's no way you could have taken down all those men without drawing some attention. And even if you did, Pein would know it's not his men manning it any longer."

"Because of the cloud?"

Itachi's eyes narrowed upon her question. "What cloud?"

When Kisame remained silent, Sakura answered, her gaze not wavering from Kisame's. "All Akatsuki members have a tattoo. A red cloud outlined in black ink. Even you have one."

Sakura didn't have to look to know she would find one of the inside of Kisame's wrist. It was the same one she had seen on the men guarding the warehouses during her two raids. She hadn't known at the time what they were, but Temari had. A mark of loyalty towards Akatsuki.

Kisame stared at her for a long time. His eyes pinning her in place as he took her all in. Then he smiled. "You're good, little viper."

Sakura said nothing, but she a faint, arrogant smile passed her lips before her attention turned to Itachi when he sighed. "Even with the warehouse under your control, Akatsuki's going to be bringing in more muscle," he said. "You are not going to be able to handle all the incoming men and product yourself."

"Then what do you suggest?" she asked.

Itachi merely shook his head, his expression thoughtful but a little uncertain. Like a half-formed thought was brewing in his mind. "I am not sure yet," he added, his tone a little distant. "I need to make a call."

Without another word, Itachi stood and made his way towards the stairs, phone in hand.

Sakura watched him leave, her gaze tracking his movements until he was out of sight. Once he was gone, she turned back to Kisame. Only to find he was already watching her. She cocked her brow. "What?"

"Itachi is right," he told her. "Even with your men occupying the warehouse, it won't be enough. Pein is bringing dozens upon dozens of men. Unless you get more, you and all of them will be killed."

They both knew he was right, but Sakura simply smiled. She refused to show weaknesses, even if they were loosely on the same side. "I didn't think you cared so much about me," she teased.

"You just need to be prepared. I can't risk getting caught by helping you. You and Itachi are on your own, little viper."

"It's Tsunade," Sakura corrected, her mouth suddenly unsmiling.

"But you're not Tsunade, are you?" he challenged, his voice quiet but not quite threatening. "Because Tsunade should be in her forties and you don't look a day over thirty."

Sakura didn't immediately reply as she studied him. She tried to gauge his thoughts, but his expression was unreadable as the flashing lights above the dancefloor flickered across his profile.

It was at that moment that she realized how long Kisame had been tracking her. Tracking the real Tsunade. Likely since she had come into the Underground twenty-some years ago. Sakura suspected that if he didn't need her help with Akatsuki now, he would probably be working to bring her down. And who's to say he wasn't still going to do that anyway.

It was only Itachi's return that saved them from forever sitting in that moment, stuck in time. He paused, glancing from Sakura to Kisame and back again. "Did I miss something?" he asked.

Without tearing her gaze away, Sakura shook her head. "No. We're done here."

Kisame left without another word after that. Sakura continued to sit for a few more minutes, her gaze staring without seeing out past the railing where she could just see the DJ on stage below. Her mind spun as quickly as the music below them, the quick bass and house beats as rapid and interwoven as her thoughts.

It was Itachi that broke through all of that, his voice nudging her back to reality. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing tonight," she said with a long sigh. When Itachi shot her a look of confusion, she explained, "I need to figure out what I'm going to do first. I can't make a play until I count my pieces."

And she needed rest before that. With waking up early to talk with Hashirama and staying up late to meet with him and Kisame, she'd had a long day. Only made more stressful by the fact that she only had a few days to act before Akatsuki would have nearly an entire army to take control of New York. It wasn't exactly as much warning as she had been hoping for, but she reasoned that she had been planning for this for a while now. She had everything she needed. She just needed to set the pieces into motion.

"Are you ready?"

His question made Sakura stop and look up at him. It took her a second to realize that he wasn't talking about Akatsuki. He meant right now. For some reason that made the stress in her shoulders fade and she couldn't resist the small smile that curled in the corners of her mouth.

"Yeah."

After sending Ino a quick text that they were heading down, Sakura followed Itachi down the stairs and back into the main room. Ino was already gone. Sakura let him take her hand and lead her through the crowd towards the far side of the club.

They made their exit through a side door. It dropped them out into the alley beside the building, the music only a faint throb compared to the pounding noise inside. It didn't escape Sakura's notice that Itachi didn't drop her hand but she didn't complain. Simply leaned closer to steal some of his heat as they walked through the night.

"I can hear you thinking," Itachi murmured after a few minutes of quiet.

Sakura inhaled deeply before she let out a long, slow sigh. "I'm just thinking about what Kisame said."

"He said a lot. What part?"

"Honestly, all of it," she told him. "But mostly the part where he said he didn't think we could take out Pein."

Itachi glanced down at her from where she was still leaning into his side. "You think he's right?"

"I do to a certain extent." When she continued to feel Itachi's gaze, she looked up at him. "He's right that if Pein gets here before we move, we're screwed. Akatsuki has more guns, more men, more resources than we do."

"But you have the Underground," he countered.

Sakura simply shook her head. "I have friends of friends and favors. But the Underground isn't mine to control. It's divided amongst a lot of players. I only hold power in one small part."

Itachi didn't immediately reply to that as they continued walking. Their footsteps echoing against the sidewalk as they slowly made their way. They passed another club, one with people still lingering out on the sidewalk, most drunk and stumbling down the street in pairs or groups.

"What if the CIA helped?" Itachi asked after a minute.

His question was so out of the blue, so unexpected that Sakura stopped abruptly. Itachi paused as well when she slipped out of his grasp. In the semi-darkness, she tried to read his expression. When she found only open honesty, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"You said they wouldn't help."

"I said they would not unless they were sure they could corner Madara."

"But we don't know that Madara will be there," she countered.

Itachi shrugged. "What if the information hinted that he would be?"

Sakura stared, only one step below openly gawking. She opened her mouth only to close it once and then twice as his words registered. She didn't know if he actually believed that he could capture Madara or if he was willing to knowingly lie to his agency to get her manpower. He was willing to risk…perhaps everything and it was that fact that left her a little speechless.

Sakura opened her mouth again, but before she could speak the screech of tires pierced the night air. They both looked up in time to see a black car with its headlights blacked out screamed down the street towards them. Then the unmistakable pop of gunfire filled the air.

to be continued…

[spiteweaver]

previous | next

Abaddon was shocked (and appalled) to find Sirius sitting beside him in Sitri’s tavern. The lad was too young for drink, legality be damned, and wasn’t the type to enjoy it regardless. He was a scholarly sort, like Junior, keeping largely to himself when he wasn’t tagging along behind his brother, so the chaotic atmosphere of the tavern didn’t set well with him. This was obvious from his body language alone; he perched rigidly on the edge of his stool, his hands clasped awkwardly in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” Abaddon chided. “Drinking in front of your grandfather seems unwise, don’t you think? If your fathers knew you were here, they’d--”

A quiet sniffle gave him pause. Frowning, he leaned forward, until he could more clearly see Sirius’ face. His grandson’s cheeks were tear-stained, his nose slightly runny, and he looked like he hadn’t slept the night prior. There was only one thing that could bring Sirius to such a pitiful low--or, rather, one dragon.

“Ah,” said Abaddon, “it’s Arcanus again, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, Sirius slammed his head down on the bar, making Abaddon jump in his seat. “He’s so handsome,” he whined, “he’s so handsome, and I can’t stop thinking about him, aba. I’ve tried everything. Hollyhock gave me a sleeping draught, Phantasos introduced me to other drakes, I even asked Guile if there was such a thing as an unlove potion.” He picked his head up and slammed it down again. “There isn’t; can you believe that?”

“What’s happened?” Abaddon asked. “Did he reject you?”

“No,” Sirius said, “but I know it’s coming. He’s been thoughtful lately; I catch him looking at me, and not in the way I wish he would. I know he only wants to spare my feelings, but--but--ugh, I miss when I was little, aba, when all I cared about was being near him. I wasn’t so greedy then. Now I--when I see him, I just want to--”

Abaddon smirked over the top of his glass. “Rip his shirt off and bury your face in his chest?”

“Aba!”

“What? Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong, but Sirius could never have admitted something so vulgar to his grandfather. Instead, he sighed. “He’s been hanging around with Miss Castel lately,” he informed.

“That slut?” Abaddon snorted. “Arcanus may be as straight as the Beacon is bright, but I think he’d choose you over her any day. After all, he has standards, and she’s a far cry from your grandmother.”

“She’s pretty,” Sirius said, fussing with the cuffs of his sleeves, “and experienced. Even if she isn’t his type, she stands a better chance than me. She’s a dam, and I’m a drake, and you can’t help which you love.”

“Water,” Abaddon whispered when Sitri drew near, “do not serve him alcohol.”

“I hadn’t planned on it,” Sitri assured with a wink.

“Oh,” Sirius moaned, “why couldn’t I have been born a dam?”

“Sirius--” Abaddon reluctantly set aside the spiced rum he’d been nursing all evening-- “when you’re young, love is in abundance. Letting go of your first is never easy, but you have the rest of your life to find the next. When one door closes--”

“Another opens,” Sirius concluded, “I know, I know.”

“Do you?”

“It’s like that for normal dragons,” Sirius said, “but I’m not normal. Drakes with too many eyes and too many limbs don’t get too many chances, and I’ve wasted one of mine on someone who will never love me.”

“Love isn’t a finite resource,” Abaddon said.

“It is when you look like me,” Sirius insisted. “How many dragons can there possibly be who would see my extra parts and think, ‘He’s the one for me!’“

“How many would see your kindness,” Abaddon replied, placing a hand on Sirius’ shoulder, “or your loyalty, or your love for your family? How many would see how special you are, how smart, how diligent, how dedicated? No one cares about your ‘extra parts,’ Sirius; you know that’s not what true love is.”

Sirius knew that very well, but right then, all he wanted was to wallow in self-pity one last time. Soon, he would have to put on a brave face, tear down the pretty little fantasy he’d built for himself, and do the responsible thing. Abaddon understood; it was therapeutic to let yourself be immature now and again, to cry, and pout, and tell yourself you’d been cheated.

“Wasn’t there even one drake you fancied?” Abaddon asked. “Phantasos knows all of the best bachelors.”

“Um...” Sitri had returned with Sirius’ water--and a kiss on his cheek for good measure. Sirius’ face turned as pink as his hair. “They were all nice,” he conceded, “but they didn’t make me feel the way Arcanus does.”

“How’s that?”

“Safe,” Sirius said, “and familiar.”

Arcanus made him feel a few other ways too, but, as before, he couldn’t bring himself to say so to his dear, beloved grandfather, patriarch of the Prabhakar household. (Besides, he got the sense Abaddon knew already.)

“Give them time,” Abaddon said, “and maybe spend some of your own at Bramble Step, or the pleasure district. I’d bet my bottom dollar Caress and Achilles could offer you a few suggestions.”

“Aba...” Sirius crinkled his nose. “Did you just tell me to visit a--?”

“No,” Abaddon cut in, “no, no, do not visit for that purpose, that’s not what I’m suggesting. You are to visit to discuss your love life with trusted friends of the family only, and if I hear you’ve done anything else, or anyone has done anything else to you, you’ll be grounded.”

“I-I wouldn’t--!”

“You say that, but I know what it’s like to be your age.”

“Oh, aba, please--”

“Hormones raging, the world at your fingertips...”

Despite his embarrassment, Sirius couldn’t help but smile; his grandfather’s good humor was contagious, and he found himself laughing through his tears. “Ok, aba,” he said, wiping his eyes on the heels of his hands, “I’ll talk to them, and I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”

“Gods--” Abaddon chuckled-- “then you’ll have every drake under their employ wrapped around your little finger.”

@nostlenne  @serthis-archivist @airris-fr @reanimatedfr @jollyroger-fr@megane-pigeon @griminal-rising​ @windkissesfr

[thundercracer]

“Family” Bakumomo Fic Part 3

Part 3 of my Bakumomo fic where the two reluctantly adopt a kid??

NOTE: So I saw something going around that Tumblr is getting rid of posts with links in them... Normally I would link the previous parts of the fic plus my AO3, but for the time being I’m gonna play it safe. You can find the previous installments in my writing tag and find me on AO3 under the same username. 

Chapter 3

Momo woke up, feeling as though she’d been hit by a truck. Her body was sore and her mind fuzzy. She felt something gripping the front of her nightgown tightly and looked down to see Itsuki, fist balled in the fabric. He was curled against her front, also lazily blinking the sleep from his eyes.

“Morning, Mama,” he mumbled slightly, giving her a warm smile. She had no idea when the last time the little boy had gotten a bath, warm food, and a warm bed. Momo felt a twinge of sadness at the thought but also felt relief that he wouldn’t be returned to that lifestyle ever again.

“Good morning, Itsuki,” she greeted warmly, petting the boy’s hair. “Did you sleep well?”

He nodded excitedly, his smile bright and infectious. “Your bed is so big! I don't think I’ve ever slept on a mattress not on the floor! And it’s so clean!”

She grit her teeth slightly, but maintained her cheery disposition. “That’s wonderful! I’m glad you liked it. You’ll never have to sleep on a dirty mattress on the floor again, I promise.”

“You really mean it?”

She patted his arm, dotingly, “I really do. Now, how does breakfast sound to you, little man?”

He seemed bewildered for a moment, before asking, “We get dinner and breakfast here? Mama… did I die when those bad guys took me? Is this heaven?”

“... No, Itsuki. Where you were was not a good or normal place. It’s typical for people to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner. You’re a growing boy, so we need to make sure you’re eating, okay?”

He smiled like the sun as he nodded his head up and down at a rate that almost made Momo worry he might break his neck. “Okay mama! Let’s hurry! Papa might be down the stairs already!”

“P-papa?” Oh, Katsuki was not going to like this.

“Yeah! The man from yesterday! You’re mama, he’s papa! You’re both heroes!”

He ran over to the door and looked to her excitedly. Confused as to why she wasn’t bounding after him, he shot her a curious look. She beckoned him to follow her.

“We’ll go shopping properly later… But the people from the office we went to last night let us borrow these clothes for you. We’ll go down for breakfast once you’ve gotten changed for the day.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… we change out of our pjs before we go down and meet everyone else. I also need you to comb your hair. Do you need help with it?”

Befuddled, Itsuki played with one of his shaggy locks. “Brush it?”

“We washed it last night, but you have to brush it every day…”

“Every day?”

Momo felt angry again. The villains apparently hadn’t taught the boy an inch of grooming skills. She took out a soft brush and sat the boy in front of her on the bed.

“Yes, every day. We brush our teeth every day. We bathe every day. We change our clothes every day. We eat three meals and some snacks every single day.”

“That’s… a lot of stuff to do every day, mama. Do we have to? I didn’t do that stuff before…”

“I know… But things are going to be a little different from now on. Well…” she sighed. “Very different. It’s good for you to be clean and to take care of yourself.”

He seemed to contemplate this. “Does this mean it won’t be itchy all the time anymore?”

“... You will definitely be less itchy if you wash yourself and change your clothes regularly, yes.”

Itsuki brightened once more. “Ok, I’ll do it then. Being itchy is really annoying.”

Upon finishing up with that task, the two of them made their way down the stairs until they found themselves in the common area on the first floor. A few of the others were already busying themselves with breakfast and getting ready for activities for the day. It was the weekend, so they didn’t have class, but a majority of them were probably heading into town for the day.

Itsuki clung to her skirt, suddenly anxious at the sight of the other people. All the people who were… staring at him now. Strangers who… were… looking right at him…

Then he saw Katsuki and he raced right over to him, leaping into the blond’s lap. Ignoring his other, more reluctant, caretaker’s shout of surprise he waved Momo over.

“Mama! I told you papa was already downstairs! Hurry!”

Katsuki shot her a look, as if the boy calling him ‘papa’ was her fault in the slightest. I knew he wouldn’t like it…

“Good morning, Bakugou.”

“Ponytail, why is the brat in my lap.”

“Itsuki,” she chose to ignore him, “what would you like for breakfast?” At his look of confusion, she quickly figured he would eat whatever was placed in front of him. “Bagels it is then.”

Katsuki tried maneuvering his miso soup around the kid in his lap, and he was quickly becoming annoyed with how difficult it was. But he wouldn’t yell at the boy. He would complain, and gripe, and throw stink eyes at Ponytail all day long. But he wasn’t going to turn any of that, any of his aggression, on this small child. Though… he was seconds away from throwing a tantrum at their stupid, dumbass classmates who thought it was appropriate to stare openly at them.

“The fuck are you all looking at?”

“Bakugou!”

“... The hell are you all looking at?”

Momo huffed and shot Itsuki a look. “Do not repeat what Bakugou says, Itsuki. No bad words.”

Itsuki giggled. “Papa says bad words.”

“Yes he does. Do not repeat them. Bakugou-”

“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want, Princess. Now what in the hell are you freaks all looking at!?” he growled at the group that had settled themselves nearby at the tables in the dining area.

“Who’s the kid, dude?” Kirishima questioned, looking over the young boy in his best friend’s lap. “I didn’t know you had a kid?”

“Are you a moron?” Bakugou grumbled. “The kid’s six. I’m 18. How am I gonna have a six year old brat, dumbass.” He sighed, heavy and agitated. “Ponytail, tell them what’s with the kid. I don’t want to deal with this.”

Momo walked back over, breakfast for herself and Itsuki on two plates. Itsuki began grabbing eagerly for his food, Momo chiding him over table manners for a moment before looking to all her classmates.

“This is Itsuki. He’s a bit shy, so please be patient with him.”

“Itsuki as in… Katsuki?” Ochako grinned. “What a coincidence you have there.”

“Shut it you oversized balloon,” Katsuki grumbled. “Anyways, the kid’s staying with us for a bit. Don’t bug him.”

“Yeah…” Sero said. “But… what’s his deal? Where’d you guys get him from?”

“Yeah, yeah!” Mina called out. “He’s calling you mama and papa and everything! What’s the deal with that?” She looked all too excited at the prospect, her romance radar going off the rails.

“We rescued him on our patrol yesterday,” Momo said, wiping a bit of cream cheese from Ituski’s mouth. “He was taken by a group of villains. We’re keeping him safe and protected at UA until his birth family is found.”

Katsuki huffed, noting how Momo didn’t feel it necessary to tell them about the possibility of adopting the kid permanently after graduation. They didn’t know if they’d find the real family… but hey, he wasn’t going to tell them if she didn’t. He took another large spoonful of miso, making sure there was a good amount of tofu.

“So he’s gonna be living here?” Ochako asked. “With us?”

“Yes,” Momo said. “Well, with Bakugou and I. At least… if that’s what Itsuki wants-”

Itsuki suddenly looked panicked. “I don’t have to stay with people other than you and papa, right!? I don’t wanna! I wanna stay with you-”

“And you will. No one’s taking you away, Itsuki. You just got here.” Momo cupped his cheek. “You’re safe, alright?”

“Okay…”

“Now keep on with your breakfast. Good job.”

The others were grinning and Kaminari said, “You’re so lucky, kid! Yaomomo’s like all of our mom, so you’re lucky for her to be like… your mom too.”

Itsuki regarded Kaminari for a moment… before ducking next to Momo, where she sat next to Bakugou, sandwiching himself between the two of them.

“You two look like a cute little family,” Kyouka commented snarkily, a shit eating grin on her face. “Just picture perfect.”

“Shut it, earphones,” Bakugou growled out. “None of you jerks go around talking about ‘family’ or any of that crap, got it?”

“Sure,” they said, none of them looking or sounding convincing in the slightest. Momo could already tell how excited they all were to have fun with the predicament. She sent them all a look, knowing they’d be more inclined to take her seriously. She didn’t mind their teasing, as long as they left Itsuki out of it.

"But still, they let Bakugou in charge of a kid?" Sero chuckled. "That doesn't seem super smart to me."

"He's gonna be cussing up a storm in no time!" Kaminari added, jovially.

"I don't think that's quite correct..." Momo piped up, catching them off guard. "Bakugou is sweet and considerate; in his own way. Everyone has different ways to show love and care. His may be different, but that doesn't take away his meaning behind them."

Their classmates exchanged looks of surprise before they shifted into warm understanding. Or, at least they thought they understood.

"Yaomomo is so nice!"

Kirishima elbowed Katsuki in the shoulder. He understood where she was coming from completely. "She's got you there, Bakugou-"

He stopped in his tracks at the bewildered look on his self proclaimed best friend's face. Katsuki stared, somewhat openly, at Momo in what appeared to be awe. Momo turned to look back at him, offering him a kind, casual smile. As though she hadn't just sparked the beginning of something bigger. Kirishima lowered his arm, watching the exchange in quiet contemplation.

Aizawa came around shortly after. Most of their classmates had already cleared out by then, finishing breakfast. Itsuki greeted him, warmer than the others since he recognized the older man from the previous day.

“Hey, Mister.”

“Hey, kid.”

Momo and Katsuki listened intently when their teacher began instructing them on their routines for the next day. “So, while you guys are in class, Itsuki is going to be taking his own lessons or training his quirk. Then, you’ll pick him up and bring him back. That’s pretty much it. You might wanna head into town yourselves, today.”

He handed the two of them an envelope.

“What’s this?”

“Money for the kid. He’s going to need more than what the bureau gave him yesterday. Clothes, grooming stuff, some toys probably. I don’t know, whatever kids need.”

“Ah…” Momo looked down at the envelope. “I can’t say I’m particularly experienced with children and what they need…”

Katsuki was quiet, but he agreed. The two of them were an only child and a rich girl; they probably didn’t have the same experiences as most children anyways. He could at least relate to having been a little boy. Or a normal child at all, albeit aggressive.

“It’ll be fine. You don’t wanna make the stuff yourself anyways,” he knew she didn’t like making things she could buy unless she had to, “so we’ll just head into town and browse for a bit. Maybe research some stuff he’ll need and the rest can be fun.” He suddenly felt the need to reassure her. To let her know things would work out. Even though he didn’t really want a part in this… It seemed to calm her anyway, making him feel a bit better as well.

The three of them made their way out of the dorms and, with the money and the permission slip from Aizawa, they hopped on a tram into town.

Opening the envelope, they discovered a large sum of money. Even Momo was surprised. “What on earth are we supposed to buy with all this?” she wondered.

“Hell,” Katsuki gripped the cash intently, “we can buy this kid a bike with even just the leftovers… damn. We could buy this kid like… ten bikes.”

“Bikes!” Itsuki cheered.

“We won’t be buying ten bikes,” Momo scolded halfheartedly, seeing the two of them pout. “But we can probably afford to get a bike. Let’s focus on clothes and sneakers first.”

“Oh!” Itsuki got excited again. “Sneakers!”

Momo thought to Itsuki’s barefoot form from the day before, angry once more with the tattered clothes and dirtiness. She would give this boy a healthy environment to grow up in if it was the last thing she did.

They quickly found a shop for children’s clothes and Katsuki, at Momo’s strong urgings, called his mom, not entirely sure what to look for.

“Katsuki?”

“Hey, hag.”

“Stop calling me that, you little shit. What’s the matter? You never call.”

“What shit do kids need?”

The other line went quiet for a moment. “What?”

“Yeah, what stuff do kids need? Like, shirts and junk I know but what kind of underwear do-”

“Bakugou Katsuki, did you get a girl pregnant?”

“What!?” His cheeks flared up in both anger and embarrassment. “No, you psycho! I did not get a girl pregnant!”

Momo looked over in concern at the sudden yelling, feeling a little silly with the Pikachu themed hoodie she was showing Itsuki. The little boy seemed enthralled with it, however, commenting that it looked like “that weird yellow guy from this morning.”

“Then why are you discussing children with me right now? Over the phone?”

“Look, it’s a long story but me and my classmate are in charge of this kid temporarily. We’re out buying him stuff and neither of us have a single clue on what to get him.”

“... I expect you to bring him and the girl over soon.”

“Stop.”

“Okay, so you’re going to need…” and she began to tell him all the essentials of a little boy’s closet and household. Toys, clothes, pjs, his own plates and utensils, coloring books, school supplies…

“Shit… kids are more than I thought,” Katsuki grumbled quietly to Momo as Itsuki changed into another pair of shorts in the dressing room.

Momo laughed lightly. “Well, I think as far as kids go, this one is well behaved. We just need to make sure he’s well taken care of for the time being.”

He looked over her. Her dark hair was surprisingly down, cascading in a black curtain down her back. Her features were soft and feminine, making her namesake of a peach very fitting. She smiled warmly as Itsuki brought her over another thing he wanted to try on, very excited about being allowed to pick out all these clothes he could wear. The very concept of light up sneakers was clearly blowing the kid’s mind.

Katsuki had always figured Momo would be one of those people that motherhood would look good on. He underestimated that. Angrily, he shook his head. He didn’t have time to be dragged down by shit like this. He couldn’t argue that Momo was insanely attractive; nearly everyone in their class if not their school appreciated the young woman’s good looks and charms.

He thought himself better than that though.

But now…

“Are we almost done here?” He dragged a hand down his face roughly, hoping to make it seem from boredom rather than trying to rub the sudden heat growing in his cheeks.

“Yeah, papa, we’re done!”

“Kid, you’re gonna have to stop-”

“Next is the toy shop then. We need to look into getting you that bike!” Momo cut him off, heading over to the counter with all of their purchases. The cashier looked somewhat confused at what she perceived as a young couple paying for a huge haul for their somehow six year old son.

“Alright. Kid, we’re gonna get you the sickest bike you’ve ever seen.”

[kookstempo]

i don't know how you did it, ryen, but these 16k+ passed by sO QUICKLY! i reached the ending and went: "what???" ok, long review coming right up.

Curling your fingers into worn sheets, you stare unblinking at the space once occupied. At the way the material has bunched in frozen peaks and valleys, previously crinkled by passion and loudly unspoken feelings.

u woke up and chose violence, my friend.

He let you into his heart.

stOP

Or ever.

oh crap we down bad

Fuck fuck fuck your heart is already suffering from how you woke up. Because you never got a chance to say goodbye.

i- ouch.

Because you don’t know when you’ll get another chance.

ryen, i'm not even half in and i'm already in pain lol

“What were you wearing?”

??????????????????????'

But Yoongi said he’d figure something out. Knowing him—because you’d like to think you do now, to some degree—he wouldn’t just say that for nothing. He wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.

:(

“Pretty sure that means he’s yours.”

my heart is beating wildlyyy

“It’s that I shouldn’t,” you whisper, moving stuff around your plate. “Even if we were a thing… we’d have to just sneak around. Like damn kids.”

shushhhhhhhhh :(

“That’s on me.”

'm sorry, whAT

“So… Jimin, huh?”

VMIN! but also all this suspense is killing meeeee

“Maybe your little mystery man will do something, too!”

haha haha haha

How are things so obvious to her? Are they this obvious to everyone else and you’re simply the only one blocking yourself from what’s really going on?

Y E S.

Why the fuck do all your exes get this much power over you?

i felt this so goddamn much

So to see her conquer her past makes your future just a bit brighter.

i love this

“Oh, you get it. You just don’t want to. Cus you’re scared of what it really is.”

THANK YOU FOR BEING SMART.

“With you? Yeah.”

dom, i love u

“Speaking of that fucker, I feel like he’s seeing someone.”

crap-

Wiggling his device at you, he vaguely responds with a mysterious, “You’ll see.”

uh, tf?

update: so... what was this about-

Filling the middle of the hall, he seems to be in the same deep pit of thoughts as before. “There’s something you should know.”

ok so yoongi is here, yay and shit. but what is tHIS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT

“He’s a better cook than you,” you chide from the fridge, giddy that Yoongi’s taking your offer but wait oh fuck did you really just say that out loud goddamn it—

I ALMOST PEED MYSELF AGEIGJIFJW OMG

Cooking and serving usually go hand in hand, and you do enjoy seeing when someone likes what you made.

same

You don’t even get to question what’s happening before your chin gets tugged and your lips seized, breath sucked all the way into your lungs while shoulders meet your ears.

I AM ON THE FLOOR YES YES YES

Stunned, you start to say his name before you feel him squeeze your ass, tugging you flush against him and causing your stomach to backflip off a top rope because what the fuck?

YOOOOOONGIIIIIIIII

“Hmm?” When he sees you watching him, his expression drops in a way that has you melting. “Shit, too much?”

i'm- just i- :(((((((((((((((((((((

Launching forward, you tug him back in for another kiss—rushed, desperate, simply not enough. Your nails dig into the soft material of his shirt, as if the animal inside of you is claiming prey after absolute starvation.

GET UR MAN

One of the guys almost steps foot into the kitchen to see what you’re making, but both Yoongi and your brother halt and spin him with light touches.

butterflieeeeeees

“Hello, love.” His smile is always so charming, and it currently contrasts with the all black fit and cap he’s sporting. “Just me.”

the black fit i choked on my cookie

But now, you decide to exude pure joy from your lonely spot on a wall, and you see a brilliant spark take root in his eyes.

sobbing

If he was the one you were seeing, who knows how many texts would have been sent since Friday.

idk how to feel about this line omg.

But you don’t particularly like the way yours is turning out.

:( i hate this

“I figured you would’ve known by now.”

not nowwwwwwwwww

“Oh. Me? What the fuck?”

what-

This also explains why Jimin freaked out at Taehyung’s place. When he overheard that you weren’t responding.

RYEN I'M SCREAMING, SHIT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE NOW AND I CANNOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

“Almost lost our goddamn minds.”

oh. my. god.

Yoongi [10:04pm]: What’s wrong, doll

:(((((((((((((((((

And you’re unsurprised when you realize it’s in the spot he took residence before.

the little details :(

Fuck, even your brother having people over makes sense. He wants to be home instead of leaving you in the house.

my babies :(

“You never texted, so. I never knew when it was a good time.”

god bless dom

“It is. But it’s leaving now.”

a cat adopting a cat awweee

“Just felt like making you come.”

pt. 2 of choking

“Keep whatever shirt you got on, forget the rest. You’re gonna need it in a sec.”

whY IS ShE gONna NeEd IT

update: damn.

“I miss being your slut, Yoongi.”

we being bold tonight

“You heard what I said. Until you tell me, you’re done.”

i need to scream

“Spit in my mouth.”

i'm gonna touch some grass brb

“I’d shut you up with my dick, but. That should do.”

oh jesus christ.

“Uh uh, keep going, baby. Since you wanna slut it out so bad.”

he what-

“How about this. Come over when you’re done with that interview.”

YES, DADDY!

another masterpiece of yours, my love. thank you for taking the time to make us laugh and enjoy the 3tan coupleeee.

anytime (3tan) (m) | myg

title: anytime pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball | stay | sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that  rating/genre:m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary:your brother is finally back. which makes for a bunch of conflicting worries that you may need to address. warnings: angst, yoongi in general lol, lots of dialogue i’m so sorry, tae being a menace, yoongi on the phone, 3tan sibling scenes!!, thinking thinking, jimin being jimin, masturbation, dirty talk, sl*t mentions, did i say yoongi on the phone?, alcohol, house party, so many interactions, just… yoongi🥺 note: ah.. well. it’s finally here. thank you endlessly to @sugakookitty​​ for being the angel beta you are, and thank you all for being so patient and understanding as i worked on this while still recovering from the writing process of dalo! i know it’s been a minute, so. i worked like hell on this the past week. if you haven’t read any of the three tangerines series yet, i highly recommend reading those first! it will make so much more sense lol note 2: saving the rest of my thoughts for the end bc i have many! just enjoy :D  total word count: 16k+ release date: july 23rd, 2022, 2:17pm est 

-

-

Back to normal.

With the coming of one, singular sunrise, everything has gone back to normal. 

Curling your fingers into worn sheets, you stare unblinking at the space once occupied. At the way the material has bunched in frozen peaks and valleys, previously crinkled by passion and loudly unspoken feelings. 

Whatever transpired just hours ago will be imprinted on your soul forever. You may even wear it on your sleeve, if only to remind yourself that something shifted between the hours of suspense and shelter. 

Because Yoongi didn’t just let you into his place last night. 

He let you into his heart. 

Keep reading

[tysonrunningfox]

Chiefly Acting

This is a long chapter but I don’t care because I’ve been waiting and I needed feret, I’m sorry, so here is a very big chapter.  I know not as many people got as caught up as I was hoping, but @goonlalagoon and @riverrockets (who drew FUSE AND NOW SHE IS MY PHONE BACKGROUND AND I LOVE HER SO MUCH) inspired me today and now I gotta throw this on you.  Sorry not sorry.

Tumblr | AO3

Mom makes breakfast. Aurelia reads, that odd accent becoming smoother and smoother as she mumbles things to herself under her breath and making notes on a scrap of parchment.  The chief sits at the table, skinny and old without his leather armor and nibbling at breakfast like he can’t let himself starve and leave us without such a constant reminder that yesterday happened.  That things were different then.  That they’re always going to be different now, at some level.

Stoick is unusually quiet, playing on the floor with an old carved dragon, taping it on the hearth and whispering to Bang.  

“Here, there’s more,” Mom refills my plate as soon as I clean it and I fail at holding back my desperation for her not to.  

“No, I’m full—”

“You’re growing,” she gives me another scoop for good measure, “that shirt’s too small.  I’ll make you some new ones.”  She tugs at the seam on my shoulder and her hand is both clinical and affectionate and I get a flash of an impression that she’s wondering if what she lost would have looked enough like me for her to imagine. “Maybe I should have kept Arvid’s old clothes, I think you’re finally catching up.”  

“Do you have to mock me?” I expect Aurelia to look up at a mention of Arvid, but she doesn’t.  If anything she leans closer to the page and I wonder if she wasn’t just around more because Mom needed her.  Or the chief needed Mom to need her.  Right now it seems like everyone needs Mom more than she needs them and I don’t want to be on that list.  I want to actually help, I want to make it worth it that I’m the one here, like somehow that’ll make it less sad.  

Like if I turn it around I can be half a success.  

“No, I’m serious,” she yanks at my sleeve and it doesn’t stretch all the way to my wrist.  “I wish I had the pattern I used last winter.”  

“We can buy clothes,” Aurelia glances at me, sullen and oddly committed as she shuts the book and sits up straight, “you can relax, you know.”  

“Like rest will help anything now,” the chief drops the crust of the bread he’s been nibbling on and it’s so tense and pained when his face half crumples that Toothless doesn’t lick up the treat even though it’s practically on his foot.  He’s curled around the chief’s chair and somehow I doubt anyone Toothless doesn’t approve of could get close to him.  

“Hiccup,” Mom chastises, expression hard even though her voice is gentle, like she’s scared of breaking him.  I think it might be too late for that, honestly, and another pang in my stomach signals the nonsensical cosmic connection between his pain and the part of me that’s him.  

“My shirt’s fine,” I cough, pushing my still full plate away.  My sleeves feel too short now that Mom pointed it out and I push them up to my elbows, looking pointedly at the list in front of the empty seat at the table. It’s the chief’s list, the master list, the one that he points at whenever he’s trying to get me to do something particularly gross or annoying, like I’ll believe it’s the list making me do it and not him.  

I know that’s just Stoick’s seat, but it feels different, it feels like someone more worthy of that list is supposed to be there.  A real heir, the one they wanted.  

“Can we stop talking about Eret’s stupid shirt?”  Aurelia snaps at me, like this is all my fault, and I almost reflexively apologize. But something tells me it won’t do anything and the part of me that would like to predict the next hit before it lands imagines forever in this house with her mad at me.  

“Not the name I would have picked…” The chief mumbles, staring at me like I’m inanimate or he’s not quite sure I’m real and it makes me feel like I shouldn’t be.  

“Hiccup,” Mom chides him a little more sternly, setting her hand on his and squeezing.  She’s as pale as I’ve ever seen her and I look at the list again.  

“Who’s going to do that?”

“What?”  Mom looks at the empty chair too and I wonder if she sees it the way I am, as a place someone else is supposed to be.  

“The list,” I almost reach for it but that feels like a decision I don’t know if I get to make. “Everything that’s supposed to happen today.  Who’s going to do it?”  

“That’s what you’re worried about?  Some list?” Aurelia scoffs, “you’re just trying to ignore the problem—”

“No, I’m…” I fumble for the words, not because she’s wrong but because she’s right.  I do want to ignore this.  I do want to forget about it as long as possible and hope that a magic solution to the way I feel finds its way out of my subconscious at some point. But it’s more than that, I realize, it’s…I don’t know what to do about this.  About the fog in this room, about Mom’s expression or the chief’s lack of one. Aurelia’s anger at me for some reason I don’t understand.  

But that list?  I might be able to do some of those things.

“Typical,” she scoffs, “this isn’t something you can plan away—”

“I’m not ignoring anything,” I stand up, my chair squeaking across the floor as I grab the list and roll it in my hand, “I’m just noting that other people’s problems still exist—”

“Because they’re easier.”

“Aurelia,” Mom’s voice cracks, almost angry in a tired, hollow way.  

“Chief?”  I ask, holding the roll out when he looks at me, taking a long second to recognize me.  That must have been how I looked at him before I put it together, that sense of familiarity.  I wonder if he’s going to see the ghost of someone he never knew every time he looks at me now.  “Are you going to come help me with this or—”

“Oh, I don’t care about that,” he looks at the list, “it doesn’t matter like I thought it did.”  

“Ok…” I look at Mom but her face is unreadable.  She nods at me, almost imperceptible.  “Well…I think it’ll matter if….” I look at the list and pick out a random line, “the barley field keeps flooding.  So I’m going to go…fix that.  Somehow. I have no idea how but—”

“Go.”  Mom looks at Stoick, “can you get your shoes on?  Eret will take you to dragon training.”  

“Do I have to go?”  Stoick shuffles his feet and stomps half a stomp.  “I’m doing something important.”  

“Shoes.  Now.”  Mom lets go of the chief’s hand, “any color preference on the shirts?”  

“I don’t need shirts.” I grab Stoick’s hand and call Bang, holding the door for both of them and stepping outside feeling both lighter and more exhausted.  I feel bad leaving Mom with all of that but I don’t know what else to do, I don’t know what else would matter.  

Like yeah, I could stay and argue with Aurelia and snark back at the chief like it makes his blank eyes not matter, but that wouldn’t help anything.  I can’t even guarantee that it wouldn’t make anything worse.  

“What’s going on?” Stoick asks, yanking his hand from mine and scrambling onto Bang’s back.  Bang doesn’t even pause anymore, just hunches his back slightly for Stoick to find the toe hold on his elbow, and there’s just another way I’ve been replaced.  I never thought Bang would ditch me if I finally got a fraction of some supposed growth spurt.  

Catching up with Arvid, my ass.  

“What do you mean, bud?”

I’m glad Mom didn’t tell him.  I don’t know why she made that choice, but it was right, even if it’s hard now to look at him being the same age I was when I was accidentally burning down forges and everyone noticed what I was and what I clearly wasn’t.  He’s too smart to be lied to but so was I and it’s the passing of a perverse torch for me to do it now.  

“Everyone is sad.”  He lays down on Bang’s head, cheek smushed against Bang’s face.  “Why is everyone sad?”  

“Aurelia is more mad at me than sad,” I try and divert, “and frankly, I’d love your insight on that because I have no idea what her problem has been lately.”  

“I think it’s something about a boy,” he wrinkles his nose, “but that’s not why Dad’s sad.”  

“I think he’s sad because of a boy too,” I sigh, “not like that, but…well, you don’t need to worry about it.”  

“I’m already worried about it.”  He leans up on his elbows, head on his hands, comfortable like only a kid on a well trained dragon can be.  Probably more even, given that he grew up with Toothless and the lack of fear that comes with that.  

“Well, you shouldn’t.”

“Why?”  

“Because I’m worried about it already,” I nod like I know what I’m talking about, “ok?  I’ve got the worrying covered and plus, you’ve got more important sh—stuff!  I mean stuff to worry about.  Don’t you start Terror tracking soon?  That was hard for even me.”  

“It’s gonna be easy,” he shakes his head, “I track with Toothless all the time.  He can find all my lost toys.”  

“That’s because he already knows how to do it.”  I scratch under Bang’s chin for a second before almost tentatively ruffling his hair. He doesn’t shove me off and I hate how I feel right for lying to him, even if I didn’t really lie.  I just told him the part of the truth that he should know.

That’s worse, isn’t it.

“It’s gonna be easy.”

“You say that,” I push up my sleeve and show him a vaguely curved burn scar on my forearm.  “Until you’re trying to train a dragon to find your clothes and they find you instead.”

His eyes widen, “really?”

“No, not really,” I laugh, “that’s a burn, but Arv—my older—a guy in my training class got bit in the ankle.  It’s not easy to train a dragon to do the right thing even when you aren’t watching them.”  

“It’s gonna be easy.”  He crosses his arms, looking so much like Aurelia that I don’t quite know what to do with it, because I can’t remember where I exist in it anymore.  

“I hope it is, bud.”  

00000

Everything else, all of the rest of these changes happened overnight.  I blinked and everything was different.  But this takes time, apparently.  This takes days.  Days of the chief staring blankly at the wall in an empty house while I’m talking to someone, lips pinched into a tight white line when I stop in to ask him something. It’s days of picking through pathetically few items on that list, even as it gets longer and longer.  It’s days of noticing that the chief’s handwriting looks just like mine except smeared, because he writes with his left and drags his hand across the runes.  Once the whole list smears in my pocket or hand, I can’t tell the last thing he put on it from the first thing I did.  

It’s the first time chiefing feels hard, unnatural, lonely.  People look at me like they know something is wrong and like they assume I don’t and it’s like the first sixteen years of my life and something entirely different all at once.  

It’s worse.  

Because I’m alone and Aurelia is with Mom, probably prying, and winter’s creeping away just enough for people to come outside and look to someone for direction and I’m the only one moving.  

“But Eret,” Gunnar Ericson explains with a calm sort of patience, like he’s not sure I can handle the conversation, “the west field flooded in the melt and I can’t get anything to grow anywhere else until summer.”  

I know absolutely nothing about farming.  Even fishing, I only understand at a magical, surface level where a net is put in the sea and somehow fish know to swim into it.  But farming?  Seeds grow things.  That’s about the extent of my knowledge.  And I know that there was something weird in the creek flooding everything and I know that Aurelia talked to Fuse about it and I don’t know what happened and the field might be poisoned or something, but maybe plants like flammable soil or maybe the soil isn’t flammable anymore.  

Is it normal for the chief to answer questions with a question?  I think I’ve heard him do it before but I think he always meant it, like he was looking for a particular answer.  I don’t know what I’m looking for.  

“Umm…Try?”  I wince as it comes out and Gunnar glances in the direction of the chief’s house, closing his eyes and nodding sympathetically at me.  

“Sound counsel, acting chief.”  

“I’m not acting chief,” I shake my head, because that sounds official and I don’t know if anything I’ve ever done has ever been official.  I wasn’t even born official.  I’ve spent days pretending and it was exhausting without a title.  “So I mean, if trying is going to kill your entire crop and starve the entire island,” I swallow and shrug one shoulder, “don’t?”  

“More good advice.” He nods, “it’s ok to tell me to come back later, chief.”  He smiles, his upper lip disappearing beneath his thick brown moustache and I remember the time Arvid and I stole an apple from his stand and feel endlessly guilty all over again about it.

“Yeah, that’d be good.” I realize need to talk to the actual chief and frown, “I don’t know exactly when.  Probably not later today.  Or tomorrow.”  Or before everything falls apart in my uncapable hands.  

“Maybe things will have dried out by then,” he nods before walking away.  

I need to talk to the chief about this one.  At this point, the questions I need to talk to the chief about is longer than the list of items I’ve managed to cross off of the masterlist on my own and I realize that means it’s probably time to go talk to him.  I’m not afraid to admit to myself that I’ve been avoiding it, but I also can’t find it in me to beat myself up about it because as soon as I step into the house my stomach drops.  

The chief is sitting at the table, exactly where he was when I left.  He looks up and stares silently at me for a second before looking back at a document that he can’t possibly be reading because it’s the same thing he was pretending to read yesterday and the day before that.  It’s like he barely exists, everything annoying but alive about him dead except for where it’s stuck to me like a stain I can’t get off and don’t think I want to anymore.  Because it should exist in someone else too, it feels like a doubly applied weight on my shoulders.  

“Hey chief.”  

“Hey Eret.”  His tone shifts across my name and I almost blurt out that I’d change it to Hiccup IV if he stopped making Mom take care of him.  

I wouldn’t, I don’t think. That’d be shedding responsibility too and sometimes I think the narrow channel I exist in between all those responsibilities I can’t avoid is the only thing keeping me moving forward.  Freedom feels dangerous, I don’t know what I’d do and I fear it wouldn’t be here and Berk would be different and worse when I got back.  And more than sitting here, it would be because of my decision.  

“I have a few questions about stuff.”  I set the list down on the table, my hand thumping a little too loud against the wood like the sound will snap him out of it.  It does, for a second, and he frowns at me like he forgot what I just said. “Around the village.  People asked me a bunch of things I don’t know the answer to.”  

“I’m sure the village is fine,” he shrugs, looking back at the top of the document like he hasn’t gotten any further than that.  Or, more likely, like he’s rereading the first sentence again and again and absorbing nothing.  “I’ll get to it.”  

“Some of this is a little more urgent than—”

“I’m sure nothing is that urgent—”

“There’s flooding in the West firld that’s preventing planting and a delay in building that new dock because of a low wood pile and the dragon hanger isn’t warming up enough—”

“You don’t need to worry about any of those things right now.”  

“Well…” I set my jaw, leaning further into the decision I already made once, “I’m worrying about them.”

“Nothing’s going to blow up in the next few days,” he says it like he’s mostly trying to convince himself and like he doesn’t realize that it’s already been a few days.  

“That’s another thing, isn’t Fuse supposed to be working on that woodbin wall?  Because that’s why I can’t get the wood for the dock—”

“I can’t do this right now.” He snaps and for a second and I think he’s going to cry.  He stares at me for a moment, face blank like he knows I’m supposed to be responding and he’s hearing it even though I’m not saying anything.  

“I think…I think it needs to get done.”  I sigh and push a loose piece of hair behind my ear, “and people are starting to call me chief and acting chief like that’s a title—”

“Acting chief?”  He perks up slightly, looking at a spot above my head like I won’t notice it’s not my eyes.  

“Yeah, I didn’t tell them to call me that or anything—”

“It’s a great idea,” the chief makes a note on a blank page in his notebook and it trails off after the first few runes.  They smear but otherwise they look like mine.  “The village needs a chief and you’re acting like it.  I’ll write up a notice—”

“Wait, no.  I don’t know what I’m doing,” I shake my head, the urge to yawn and scream and stab him and stab something else all mounting at the same time, “I got asked about farming today.  I don’t know anything about farming, I can’t…I don’t…”  I shrug, throwing my arms in the air and he flinches when they smack back down against my sides.  “Help me out here, maybe?”  

It’s the thing I never said that he’s always wanted to hear.  I expect it to work, I expect some magical realization that I’m his son too, that I’m a kid who needs him as much as that kid that never finished happening was. Or is.  That I’m here in the present even though no one seems to notice.

That I’ve never realized how much I needed him until now.  Not in the way he wants me to, of course, but it’s something and I need him and no one else can help me.  I learned how to manage being dorky and small and awkward without him, but chief?  I can’t delve deep enough into my well of vague but persistent self-loathing to figure that out.  I need him to tell me.  I need someone to tell me and he’s the only one who can and I’m asking.  

It feels like begging and I hate that, I hate that I’ve ended up just as weak in front of him as I always told myself I’d never be.  

“You’re ready.”  

“Ok, but that’s not what I’m asking.”  

“You’re ready, you’ve been ready.  You’ve been helping me for months now, you haven’t made any big mistakes—”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ll write up a notice and put it—and you can put it at the great hall.  Nothing’s going to blow up in the next couple of days—”

“If you’re titling me Acting Chief, something makes me think this is more than for a couple of days.”  I flail and I feel more like him than ever, more animated and desperate and willing in a way that’s always been irritating.  “I don’t know how to do this, I don’t know how to tell people what to do and have them do it and if it goes wrong, it’s all on me—”

“Just do what I would do.”

“That’s the whole point of me talking to you, I don’t know what you’d do.”  Because I’m not as much of him as I should be.  As I need to be.  As the village needs me to be.  

“Nothing can go wrong in just a few days,” he looks back at his notebook, “things don’t change overnight. They just don’t.”  

“What do I do about the farming?  And the woodpile—”

“I’m trusting your judgement.”  He doesn’t look at me.  He doesn’t bore an invisible ‘don’t fuck it up’ into my forehead like Mom always does. He sits there like someone who needs to be protected, like one of those who will be affected by whatever wrong thing I inevitably do.  

“Well…”  I deflate, shaking my head and looking at the door, because the village is going to feel so different when I go back out there. When.  Not if.  I decided and this drags me further into it, not backwards like I wish.  

I could leave.  But what would I be leaving?  What would it be when I come back?  

It feels like everything changes because of me, what would change because of lack of me?  I’m already seeing it, in a way, what changes when some version of me disappears.  I can’t do that to everyone again.  

“It’ll be great.”  He shrugs, “you’ll see.  I’m trusting you.”  

“That…that makes one of us.” I huff, snatching the list—my acting list off of the table and stomping back outside.  

00000

Fuse is at the woodpile. I see her first because she’s the only thing standing still, her hair glinting as she cocks her head at the side wall.  I should go talk to someone about the stack, first, but I don’t, and I don’t know if it’s what the chief would do and that makes my hands shake.  

“Hey Fuse, what’s up?” I walk up to stand next to her, “how’s it going with you?”  

“I think it’s going to cave if I take from the front.  I think I’ve got to take from the middle and work back but pillar this front corner. I think there’s a crack coming down from the point.  See?” She points up and a little to the right at a bit of ceiling that looks exactly like the rest of the ceiling, “It’ll crumble if I don’t column the corner.”  

“Then column the corner.” I shrug, “it’s about access from the new dock, right? It should be fine if the corner is a column.”

“Do you know where the chief is?  He’s the one asking me to do this.”  

“I do,” I sigh, “and he’s not going to tell you, so…so I’m just going to decree, or whatever, that as my first decision as Acting Chief, whatever that means, it’s fine if you column the corner.  Because you think it’s the way it’ll work and I trust you.”  

“Acting Chief?”  She frowns, fully looking at me for the first time since I’ve walked over, “what are you talking about?”  

“The chief is writing up a notice to make me official Acting Chief,” I laugh, feeling limp and tired and like I don’t have a chance to do anything but fail, “an ambiguous but surface level powerful title that means nothing but also everything.”  

“Wait, I’m missing something, why would he—”

“You know how my Mom was pregnant?”  I exhale through my nose, shaking my head slowly and wondering again why she’s not the one falling apart.  How she’s not the one staring at a corner.  How Aurelia and the chief are on some wavelength that I’m not for the first time since I’ve started looking for similarities.  “She’s not anymore.  The chief’s…I don’t know, staring at a wall and not deciding anything.  My Mom’s…Aurelia…”  I chew on the inside of my lip, reminding myself why being here matters more when it feels like everything would be calmer and better and newer everything else.  Because this ominous grief-adjacent feeling is too familiar to be healthy.  “It’s not the best.”  

“My gods, I’m so sorry,” she sounds more typical than Fuse ever does, more broken record polite, and I hate it.  I hate how her voice breaks and I wish she were still thinking about explosives.  I wish things were going to blow up in the next few days and I didn’t have some undefined period of thinking about what the chief would do in front of me.  “Is there—do you need a hug?”  

I laugh.  It comes out too loud and too painful, like my throat has forgotten how in the past couple of days and it has to half shred to remember.

“No one has asked me that.”  

She hugs me, arms pinning my arms to my side, chin pointy and painful into my shoulder.  Warm and smelling like black powder and squeezing tighter than she needs to.  It’s good anyway, bracing, like she trust me being tough at some level other than just talking about it.  She steps back, a little stiff and I wish she wouldn’t be, I wish she’d go back to talking about cracking rocks.  

“So Acting Chief, huh?” She nods slowly, “I can column the corner, but that means nothing is stopping reloading the bin from the other side.”  

“So I can get the bin catalog updated?”  I throw my head back, “oh my gods, that’s the best.  I can’t get going with building the dock until Sneezlet Hoarkson lets me take the wood and she’s not doing that until the roster is updated.”  

“You sound busy.”  

“The busiest.”  I sigh, “now I’ve got to get the bin filling and then I can go tell the builders down at the docks—”

“I can do that,” she offers, “I need to get some stuff to start measuring to prep the wall, anyway, it’s practically on my way—”

“You’d do that?”  I feel struck by it somehow, maybe it’s that I was just asking for help and didn’t get it and now it’s offered and it’s Fuse, so it feels easy.  It’s genuine because she’s never anything else and I don’t know how to apologize for being so thordamned needy.  “I might need another hug, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”  

She sputters, like she never does, started like I’ve never seen her, “I figured you’d had a rough day.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“I’ll go talk to the people prepping the dock,” she nods, cheeks patchy like the enormity of my being Acting Chief just hit her.  Like she just realized what she offered but she’s not backing down.  

“Thank you.”  I sigh, “now I get to tell Sneezlet how to load this up, but well, having that only be half the job is such a huge thing.  Thank you.”  

“I got it.”  She turns abruptly and walks off and that makes me laugh even though I don’t know how anything could be funny right now.  

Sneezelet fights the idea of my authority until I tell her to check the notice on the front of the great hall, the notice I haven’t seen or put up yet, but that’s enough to get her ordering people to load their dragons and get all that half green wood stacking into the half of the shelter that Fuse says won’t be affected by her blasts. It feels official, far quicker than I would have thought it could but just as heavy as I’d feared.  If this messes up, it’s my fault.  

If it messes up, I have to clean it up and that’s all on me, because I don’t think that the chief is going to be ready like he seems to think he is.  

Honestly, I don’t know how the chief ever had time to annoy me so much.  I’ve only been doing this for a few days on my own and an hour officially and I can’t remember the last time I was home before dinner or got more than half a nights’ sleep.  I don’t mind the first part of that, really, because home isn’t my favorite place right now, between the chief staring off into space and Mom being almost frantically fake happy all the time.  

And there’s the fact that Aurelia still won’t talk to me, or she’ll talk but it’s not like we used to, it’s not nice or comfortable.  It’s like she wants me to be wrong because she’d get something out of it.  It’s like every word out of Norse that she remembers, she gets further away.  

So I’m happy to be out of the house, but when what feels like the seventh frantic worried face of the day approaches me as I’m trying to get across town to check on Fuse and the progress on the new dock, I may or may not hit today’s emotionally full point and snap at them.

“What?  What do you want?”

“Sorry,” Mrs. Ericson takes a step back with wide eyes and her hands held up.  I must have sounded fiercer than I thought.  “Er, Chief?”

“I’m not the chief.” I blurt out automatically and shake my head, “but right, I’m Acting Chief, that’s why I’m so tired.  Acting Chief is fine.  What can I do for you?”

“My Winky chewed through their girth last night, the boy forgot to take the saddle off when he got home, and I was just wondering when I could drop it by the forge for you to fix.”

“I’m not actually putting in much forge time these days,” I sigh, “Smitelout Jorgenson is over there though and don’t tell her I said this, but she’s actually doing a pretty good job picking up the slack.”

“Oh, I know she’s been working with Gobber,” Mrs. Ericson hems and haws the way that Vikings don’t unless they’re talking to the chief, which is somehow me, as weird and uncomfortable as that still feels, “she fixed my dagger up last week, actually, and it’s fine, I just…well, I prefer your individual touch on the leather.”

“That’s…flattering, Mrs. Ericson, but I really don’t have time right now.”  I try to feel like I’m not being crushed under the weight of her understanding disappointment.  “I…ok, bring it by the forge and leave it with Gobber, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you!”

“It’s fine,” I lie, because it’s a pain in the ass and I don’t have time and that’s what the chief would have said but he has me to cover for him and I don’t.  “If I can’t get to it—”

“You’re trying, lad, that’s all we ask!”  

“Right.”  I wave at her and keep walking, looking down at my feet like it’ll make me less noticeable.  

I remember when I used to want to be noticed, when it used to feel like something would change if someone just saw me.  When I thought my ideas would matter and that somehow, that wouldn’t feel like a crushing weight plopped onto my chest.  

I miraculously make it down to the dock without anyone seeing me, because checking in with what Fuse offered to do seems like the biggest guarantee for some level of comparative success in this overwhelming day, but of course, everyone is yelling.

“Fall?”  Someone is yelling at Fuse, which makes me furious in a way I can’t quite comprehend right away, because I put here there, I told her I’d cover her, “we’re supposed to wait to do this with fall wood?  That doesn’t submerge right—”

“I’m just telling you what I—”

“Well, tell whoever told you that they’re a thick-skulled moron—”

“You seem perfectly capable of delivering your own insults.”  Fuse deadpans, completely unflappable as they move closer to her, shorter and angrier than she is and l move to step between them.  

He pokes her in the shoulder.  She blanches, suddenly alarmed.  

“Do you want to blow us both up?”  

“Is that a threat?”  

“Whoa there,” I step between them, facing the guy who’s causing Fuse problems.  He’s younger, but not young enough that I know him.  Small enough that the weight of the axe against my lower back makes me feel like I know the only ways this could go.  “What’s the problem?”  

“She said—” He tries to point around me at Fuse and I check his forearm with my wrist, just enough of a hit to tell him I know where my axe is and could get it just as fast.  

“I don’t care what she said.”  I step towards him, “tell your boss that you can start building as soon as Sneezlet lets you have the wood.  And don’t start fights you can’t finish.”  I look at Fuse over my shoulder and she’s red and irked in a way she rarely gets without Arvid’s purposeful prodding.  “That would have gone bad for everyone.”  

“Says who?”  He tries, but he’s faltering, and the combination of me and Fuse must mean something that I never used to because he doesn’t move towards me.  

“Says the guy who’s got Acting Chief status according to the notice on the front of the great hall. Go check.  I don’t care.”  I make a mental note to put up that notice next, before I find a place to sit down.

“How soon are we going to get the wood?”  He asks, narrowing his eyes at me, and I think I recognize him from Rolf’s dragon training graduation.  Maybe there was something in the water that whole year.  

“Soon, we’re moving into half the pile and can get it counted.”  I take a step towards him and he backs off two, “go tell your boss. Seriously.”  I hate how I sound like the chief when I aim for authoritative and I clear my throat, “and come to me next time you don’t like an order.”  I try and shrug how Ingrid does, that little shrug that makes my axe handle stick out.  “Preferably before you form that wrong opinion.”  

“Alright,” he falters, looking at Fuse one more time like he wants to say something and stopping himself, “Acting Chief.”  

“Good,” I turn away before he can pull me into more of this delightful conversation, hands sweating enough that I wipe them on my pants.  Fuse is staring at me like she’s not sure if she needs to say anything and I look at the fullest pocket of her vest, “maybe next time leave the explosions at home when I send you on such a confrontational errand.”  

“It wasn’t a confrontational errand.”  

“I didn’t think so,” I laugh, gesturing back up the path from the dock, “but maybe I should get you out of here before that changes.  What happened?”  

“I just relayed the message.”  She looks as embarrassed as she is distracted.  “He just started telling me to insult people—”

“Ok,” I stop, reaching for her elbow and pausing before I end up in the same situation, my arms falling back slack as I step off of the trail and wave her to follow me.  “Things like that don’t just happen.  I’ve made enough happen on purpose to know that it’s not necessarily easy.”  

“I didn’t do anything.” She stands in front of me, a little bored but not willing to ignore me and I hope it’s not just my almost title. Somehow, with her, I know it’s separate.

“You know, you’re one of the only people that I actually trust around here,” it comes out fast and honest and funny in a way nothing has really been lately, “but if I’m going to be Acting Chief, I’m going to need a bit of diplomacy.”  

“It’s not my fault if everyone else is so sensitive.”  She looks confused and angry about it and I sigh.  

“Everyone isn’t sensitive, we’re Vikings.  You’re just…shockingly direct and astute enough that your first hit usually gets the vulnerable place.”  

“I didn’t hit anyone.” She crosses her arms, looking bored and red and out of her element the same way she makes me feel.  “He just acted like it.”

“Oh come on, you honestly don’t know you can be…harsh?”  I want to reach for her arm again, to tap her on the shoulder.  It feels like no one else should hear what we’re saying, it feels like I want it to be a secret.  

“You don’t seem to think so.”  

I laugh at that, “that’s because I’ve already said all the meanest things to myself and you’re logical in comparison.”  

“I’m not mean to you.”

“You’re frank.”  I want to shake her even though it’s dangerous, even though it could evaporate us both and leave a crater.  I realize I might know something she doesn’t, even if it’s still new to me, even if it’s still strange.  Maybe I’ll understand it better if I say it out loud and I try to curb the urge to whisper it because that’d make it sound less sure.  “You know, sometimes, when chiefly authority is involved, you have to say things so that people will like the idea of listening to you.”  

“Why do I care if they like it?”  She hesitates though, cocking her hip slightly, arms crossed but slack like she’s thinking about leaving but isn’t quite sure yet.  

“Because someone just tried to fight you.”  

“I don’t care if people want to fight me,” she scoffs, “it’s stupid.”  

“Ok, how about I care?” I step closer, “because I like trusting you when to know when to blow things up and if people are trying to fight you, that decision is out of your hands.”  

“I can’t control what people do.”  She falters slightly, her frown cracking around the edges like she’s just realizing what just spun out of control.  “People don’t react like bombs, they don’t make sense.  I don’t know how I’m supposed to predict how people will react to things.”  

“You’re pretty good at predicting me.”  

She cocks her other hip and averts her eyes, cheeks red like she’s not used to me catching her by surprise.

“That’s because your face is obvious.”  She shrugs and almost looks defiant, almost embarrassed.  I want to fix this more than I want to check off anything.

“Yeah, maybe, I never said I was subtle.”  I step closer, trying to frame what I’m about to say in a way that I won’t have to explain more than once.  This all feels subtle.  Important. And that notice still isn’t up anywhere. “Sometimes, you have to say it so that people will like you.”  

“I just told him what you said.”  

“Ok, I get that but…ok, ok, let’s practice.”  I grab her elbows and turn us around so that she’s still facing me but my back is to the road.  I don’t realize what I’ve done until I drop her and step back, waiting for that face that means she’s scared of an unpredictable ticking.  It doesn’t happen.  She just reddens slightly, arms slack at her sides.  “Ok…pretend you have to tell me that I…hmm, that you can’t blow out a wall I need you to or like…a bunch of fish is going to spoil.  Or something.”  

“Why can’t I do it?”  

“I don’t know, make something up,” I laugh, “something is cracked or something.”  

“I’m not good at making things up.”  She looks like she just admitted some secret more horrible than any I’ve heard already, which is simultaneously hilarious and impossible.  

“It’s just me, it doesn’t have to be good.”  

“Ok.”  She shrugs and thinks for a second, two thirds of an eyebrow lowered over her right eye.  “I can’t blow up the imaginary wall because it’ll take down the imaginary hill too.” She’s completely flat, awkward in a way that’s never been so palpable, small under all those packed tight vest pockets.  

“Ok, now say it like you want me to like you.”  

She sputters again, cheeks patchy, fingertips digging into her arms.  I laugh and it’s more uncomfortable than genuine.  

“Apparently a thought a little too far from reality,” I try and shrug it off but suddenly this feels weird. Ominous.  Like I’m missing something obvious and it’s circling. “What did you actually say?”  

“What Aurelia told me to.” She sighs, “she caught me halfway over and said you’d told her that you’d miscalculated and there wouldn’t be enough wood until the whole bin was full.”  

There it is.  

“She did what?”  

“She told me that—”

“Yeah, I heard you.” I pat her almost reflexively on the shoulder and she doesn’t flinch, “I didn’t tell her to do that.  I’m going to go…I don’t know.  I don’t know what I’m doing.”  It feels like less of a confession than it does something shameful I shouldn’t saddle her with.  “I’ll…see you.  I guess.”

“Yeah.”  She pauses, mouth half open, “I…yeah.  I’ll let you know if I need anything to column that wall. Acting Chief.”  She uses the title like it means something and I hate that it does.  I don’t want to leave but I have to, because I promised I’d keep things together and even though that was only to me and the half the chief still talking, it still matters. It still has to matter.  

[wri0thesley]

ok faM BUT,,, hc if in SC there was a 7th member who is a shitposting piece of garbage with the "give me the sweet release of death" attitude who is also tiny af (like 1,60 meter) and very passive aggressive about the other members being that fucking tall??? Also crippling low self esteem jokes because,,, hashtag relatable. aNYWAYS hcs would be fuckin awesome!!! Some romantic ones would be cool too yo (I love ur blog btw???)

Joseph doesn’t understand sarcasm very well. He’ll act deeply concerned when s/o makes jokes about death, when they mention that they hate themselves - he really just doesn’t get what’s hip and down with the kids these days. He’s more than happy to join in on the teasing about being tall, though. Joseph’s a prankster, and he’ll take any opportunity to be able to pull one over on someone else. One night, all of s/o’s things have been put on the highest shelf in the hotel room. Fuck you, Joseph. 

Jotaro always comes across as if he neither cares about nor understands the jokes that s/o pulls. He looks at them blankly, pulls his hat over his eyes - up until maybe halfway through the journey, s/o is convinced Jotaro absolutely cannot stand them. It comes as they’re driving somewhere, and they see a lone tree in the desert with a single shoe hanging off it; as s/o watches it go past and deadpans, ‘same’, Jotaro snorts with laughter. After that, realizing that Jotaro’s not as stoic as he seems, s/o makes it their mission to make him laugh as loudly as possible and ruin his cool image. He’ll respond to their jokes too, with humour in kind delivered with no emotion. It’s great. Joseph has no idea what the fuck they’re talking about. He’s another who will use his height to advantage; putting s/o’s things on high shelves, pointing to things they definitely can’t see, pointing to things sized for children and asking if s/o needs one of those. Jotaro is one of the romantic options I can see working with this kind of personality, as long as they show themselves to be resilient and resourceful when it matters. Jotaro would much rather that than someone who was peppy and cheerful and falling over themselves for his attention. 

Avdol understands their jokes and takes their self-deprecation in stride, but doesn’t show it. He is, for the most part, stoic - he’ll tip his head to the side and address their fragmented statements with logical rebuttals, which in turn will make s/o fall over themselves to explain the joke, as Avdol continues to pretend not to get it and they get more and more flustered about it. Avdol thinks it’s hilarious, and it’s only as he snorts out as s/o says “Okay, I guess it’s hard to understand--” that s/o realizes the guy was fucking with them. Of course. When s/o is passive-aggressive about their height, Avdol will raise his eyebrows; “How can so much anger fit inside one such little person?”. S/O could fucking murder him, but can’t help laughing. 

Polnareff is a dramatic kind of man. As soon as he’s managed to ascertain that they’re mostly joking (at first, he’d been horrified - surely that can’t be how they feel about themselves? As a good man and a romantic he’d been quick to assure them they were very good and smart and didn’t deserve to hate themselves), he’ll begin to see it as a competition. If they say, deadpan, that they are waiting for death, Polnareff will bring a hand to his brow and heave a long-suffering sigh. “Chaton, I feel my body withering and dying right now. I am not long for this world. Give me a kiss before I meet my maker.” Polnareff will never resist a chance to flirt; he thinks their height is adorable and will ruffle their hair and rest on them. If any of the Crusaders leave with romance, it’s Polnareff - he’s caring, and kind, and a little bit goofy. His boundless optimism is a good match for their . . . not optimism. They rub well against one another.

Kakyoin will be the one who gets their humour the most. He has a tendency to come across as cold and aloof, but he processes things well - he can come across as a tad blunt, or haughty, but he appreciates the way that s/o just blurts out what’s on their mind. He’s the shortest of the other Crusaders, so he doesn’t get quite so much grief thrown his way about his height. He and they can commiserate on not being as frustratingly tall as the Joestar boys together. When the self-esteem jokes come out, a wry smile pulls at his lips - he’s fairly confident in himself, but he knows how to engage with other people. He might give them a slight chide about it, actually - they ought to have more confidence. They’ve made it this far. He has a habit of watching from the side and making wry observations, and their humour will mesh well.

[violetwonders]

Maybe (WorkerJaehyun!AU)

Notes: Just a brief scenario about a cute and smooth af jae with a crying oc (aka you!!) Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Jaehyun of NCT X OC Prompt: WorkerJaehyun!AU Word Count: 1,375 words

“So…?”

He looks at the auburn-haired guy expectantly. “Do you really have to go? Or are you making an excuse?” The latter asks after a few quiet moments.

The former lets out a stressed groan. How smart his auburn-haired friend is - he only notices now. “Jaehyun…” He whines. This person is a scammer. How else can he know? He thinks as he leans in for an embarrassed whisper. “Okay, fine, I was lying.” He sighs.

Jaehyun smiles quite triumphantly as he listens. Frankly, he’s quite ready to hear ridiculous reasons. “I’m not going back home for an emergency. Truthfully… I’m going on a date today.”

Jaehyun only blinks for some time. “Say something!” His friend pouts. “You’re skipping work for a date, Johnny Seo?” He raises his eyebrow, quite unbelievably. “Yes, I am. So can you take over my shift just for tonight?” Johnny pleads.

“Why the heck are you going to a date?” He asks. Johnny gives him an exasperated look. “Is that so hard to believe? Can’t you give a hand for your friend? This girl I’m meeting is the real deal. I worked so hard to get her number. She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I swear! She’s from Yonsei University and she’s taking up Accountancy! I met her when I was - ”

“Okay, okay, fine, I think that’s enough. I don’t think I want to hear your sappy love story.” Jaehyun cuts off. “I’ll take up your shift.” He agrees finally. Before his friend can rejoice, he rebuts, “ - only because I know you haven’t had a date in a million years.” He smirks when Johnny sends him a flat look.

“Yeah, I get it. You’re a real friend,” he rolls his eyes sarcastically. “You’re not going to thank me?” Jaehyun starts removing his uniform. “Ehey, no going back! I’ll give you your thanks. Thank you, Mr. Jung-Meanie-Jaehyun.” Johnny exaggerates, slinging his bag around his shoulder. “Ok, but I really gotta dash. Bye, foreign swagger.” He salutes before leaving.

Jaehyun only shakes his head, stretching his limbs as he gets ready for a very long night.

He thinks this is the best part of having this kind of job. He gets to watch movies over and over again without having to pay for them. Quirks of being a worker in a movie theater.

Jaehyun eats the last of his Skittles before turning on the lights in the previously dark theater. People steadily stream out as he’s slowly left alone. The credits of the last movie of the day are rolling up on the screen, and all he needs to do is clean up before leaving.

The things I do for Johnny hyung. He shakes his head. Jaehyun makes sure there are no people left before making his way down the row of seats and starting to pick up the leftover popcorn and sodas in a plastic bag.

A few moments pass by while he picks up the leftovers singing ‘Whatta Man’. He’s in the middle of bolting Somi’s high notes when he hears sniffles. He automatically halts. What the heck was that? Did I hear wrong? He freezes for a brief moment.

Jaehyun is afraid to look at the direction of the sniffling, but he does anyway and almost curses out loud when he spots a petite girl curled up in a ball in the corner. Why didn’t I see her there before? He wonders, his heart still racing.

He decides to approach her. “Umm… miss, are you okay? Aren’t you going to leave yet?” He cautiously asks. He’s suddenly overcame with fear. What if she suddenly looks up and turns out to be an ugly ghost?

“Y-yes? Umm… I’m sorry.” You scramble up to your feet. You don’t mean to become a nuisance, and Jaehyun doesn’t mean to gape, but he does. You’re not an ugly ghost, you’re a beautiful girl! Even though your face is red and wet (thanks to the tears), he thinks he hasn’t met anyone as breathtaking as you.

“Umm… no! It’s fine! Don’t worry,” he finds himself saying. Jaehyun rubs his nape embarrassingly as his ears redden. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound angry or annoyed.” He quickly adds.

You look up at him, and his heart flutters when his eyes meet your brown ones. You inevitably sniffle again, and Jaehyun smiles at how cute you look.

“It’s fine, it’s really my fault. I was just having a crappy day and I just… found the dark comforting at this time.” You abruptly sigh, suddenly feeling that this situation is ridiculous. You’re rambling to a random worker (a cute one, at that) in the theater at ten o'clock in the night. Your roommate is probably freaking out.

“If it’s okay with you, can you tell me what happened?” Jaehyun finds himself saying. “Umm…” You bite your lip. You’re not sure what to say. You just met him, and it’s already late. But something brings you to tell him all your worries. Maybe the fact that his eyes were really comforting? You could drown in them and never complain. It doesn’t help that he’s pretty cute, too.

“Is that too personal? Sorry,” Jaehyun quickly says. He mentally curses himself. You probably feel uncomfortable. After all, you two just met.

“N-no, it’s fine. I’ll tell you. No one wants to hear me out except you anyway.” You shrug casually, a small smile starting play on your lips. Jaehyun lets out a relieved sigh as he finally smiles. You notice a dimple carved on his cheek and think it’s cute. You almost can’t contain a giggle.

“I’ll just take this out. It’ll be quick, I promise.”

You take small sips of your coffee from your paper cup, trying not to burn yourself. Jaehyun laughs as you miserably fail and fan your tongue. “You should be more careful!” He lightly chides, a smile gracing his lips. You try to send him a look, but you can’t fight the grin climbing up your lips even though your tongue is throbbing. “It’s not my fault I want to drink!”

Comfortable silence once again blankets the air as you two walk on the chilly streets of Mokpo. It’s only been thirty minutes but it feels like you two are friends from a long time ago. Jaehyun seems like a pretty good guy, listening attentively and stating his opinions at the right timings as you told him all of your worries. All of it, including how your stupid boyfriend (now ex) had found another girl who 'made his heart flutter like how it did with you’. It was a bunch of bullsh!t and you knew it. You don’t even know how and why you dated him when he was so shameless.

You’re in the middle of unleashing all of your frustration to Jaehyun when you realize that you’re probably rambling too much. He was just a stranger until now and you’re pretty sure you’re making him uncomfortable. Jaehyun curiously looks at you when you stop speaking.

“I’m sorry.” Your cheeks redden. “I’m getting too far off again, right? Ah… seriously… I’m really sorry. If I’m making you uncomfortable, I’ll let you leave.” You embarrassingly avoid his eyes. A few moments pass by and you think that he’s going to walk away. Instead you hear a bunch of chuckles as his merry laughter fills the silence of the night.

“Why are you laughing?” You turn your head to see him clutching his stomach. “I-it’s just be-because…” he continues to laugh, “that’s ridiculous! 'I’ll let you leave’! Hey, I’m not that kind of person. That’ll make me such a rude guy if I suddenly left you here embarrassed. Also, you need to get back home safely. The least I can do is walk you to the bus stop,” he says, a grin on his face. Your heart tingles. “And I’m not uncomfortable. I actually like hearing your voice.”

You turn to look at him again, a little surprised. Jaehyun smiles, “I found out today that you broke up with your jackass boyfriend. Maybe you could find another one,” he casually says, briefly giving you a knowing glance as he turns away to look in front of him with a smile.

[jalove-wecallhimdean-blog]

My Prince

Pairing: Reader x ???

Warnings: Fluff, witches curse, possibly some cussing, going into labor, im pretty sure that’s it

Co-writer: @plaidstiel-wormstache

Word Count: 3193

A/N: I’ve really been bad about posting this!! I blame my procrastination!! Jess was amazing to co-write with, she has an eye for detail and nailed the guys personality on point! She’s such a talented lady and I would do it again a thousand times! You’ve probably already read this but in case you haven't, enjoy!!

You were alone in the motel researching a case. The guys had left to investigate it earlier in the week. Apparently, it was a pretty powerful witch. She’d been wreaking havoc on families across Kansas City for weeks now and the four of you were determined to stop her. Dean had recently called you to take care of a simple salt and burn only a couple of hours away from where you were staying. Things had been pretty tense between the guys and yourself lately. They didn’t seem to think you could take care of yourself and for them to assign you to a case, was progress. Grabbing your keys and phone off the table, you headed to the parking lot to your car.

About an hour into your drive you stopped to use the restroom at a run down gas station. On your way out, you bumped shoulders with a beautiful woman about your age. She turned around and began to chant in a language that seemed vaguely familiar. Your eyes grew wide and your heart began to race in your chest. Fumbling for your phone you tapped Sam’s contact, your hands shaking from the adrenaline. You hadn’t been able to find a way to cure her curses before leaving on your hunt. As the phone rang, your head started swimming, eyes unfocused, and your balance was faltering. The world around you started to fade out as soon as you heard Sam’s voice on the other end of the line. You managed a few words before dropping the phone and collapsing to the ground.

“Sam...witch...help me!”

Sam’s POV

I was sat at the motel table, laptop open in front of me, research swimming around my brain, nothing had turned up useful, then my phone went off, it was YN. I answered, expecting some witty comment about how easy her salt and burn had been, instead I was greeted by unsteady breaths. “YN? What's happening?” I said, concern etching every syllable. Dean looked up from his burger, swallowing his mouthful, his body tense at my tone. “Sam… witch … help me.” She said, her voice faint, almost just another breath, then there was a loud cluttered noise. “YN? You there?” I called out, I hit the speaker button and put the phone on the table between myself and Dean, I brought up my tracking application on my laptop, while Dean continued to try and get you to speak to him.

We arrived at the gas station, seeing your limp body being loaded into an Ambulance. “She's our sister!” I yelled at the paramedic trying to get us to step back. With that the medic let me into the back of the truck, Dean promising to follow close behind. Your eyes were shut, there was a faint graze on the side of your temple, but nothing else. You looked like you were asleep, I grabbed your hand and squeezed. “YN, what happened to you?” I hushed, whispering close to your ear, you didn't move, you didn't even squeeze back. “She’s got a steady pulse, she seems fine, does she get dizzy spells? Faints often? Does she have epilepsy?” The medic asked, watching the tiny monitors around you. I frowned and shook my head. “No, are you saying she's just asleep?” I asked, trying desperately to understand. The medic shrugged and gave a slight nod, “Seems like, they’ll do more tests at the hospital.” I got out my phone and sent Dean a quick text Something weird’s going on? Could this be our witch? I stowed my phone back in my pocket and leaned back in. “We’ll figure this out, YN. Promise.”

Reader’s POV

Bobby bent over the table laughing. You were having a small get together with a few hunters at The Roadhouse, Cas included. These moments came very rarely in your line of work so when everyone had a day off at the same time, you tended to take advantage of it. He was sitting next to you, the love of your life. He didn’t know it. You could never tell him how you really felt about him. You had the biggest crush on him since the first time you laid eyes on him. He was tall, with dark hair, beautiful eyes and his smile melted your heart!

“Hey, YN have some fun! We finally have a day off, enjoy it, don’t sit over there looking all mopey!” He playfully elbowed you in the ribs, causing you to smile and let out a small giggle. He always knew how to make you laugh even when you didn’t feel like it. There would never be anyone like him, ever.

“You wanna go play some pool and watch me take every dime you have?” He cocked his head in the direction of the pool table.  

“Sure, buddy. You know I play better than you anyways.” You replied with a snarky undertone. It was true, you had shown him up plenty of times. He would always end up owing you money, money you never asked for. It was a game for you, hoping one day he would see you in the same light you saw him. Before you could make it to the table, everything went dark again.

CAS’S POV

I could hear Dean calling me, praying to me, something had happened to YN. “What's wrong?” I asked, landing in the white room, I went straight to her side, she was lying on a hospital bed, sheets pulled up to her middle, a gown covering the rest of her, her hair splayed over the pillow. The machines on either side were steadily beeping, she looked asleep. “She won't wake up. We don't know why, neither do the doctors.” Dean explained, Sam was holding her hand, seated in a chair pulled up next to the bed. “It’s a witch’s curse. Same one you've been following. I didn't know she was working the case-” “She wasn't!” Dean growled, he took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face, the other sitting on his hip. “What's happening to her?” Sam asked, his puppy eyes, as Dean called them, directed at me. I hovered my hand over her forehead. “It's strange, she’s just dreaming. But…” I could sense more to this spell, but was it really that simple? “But what, Cas? Spit it out!” Dean demanded. “It’s a sleeping spell, only one person can bring her out of it.” I frowned, it didn't sound right, but it was the truth. “Who, Cas?” Sam asked, he was getting annoyed, I’m not sure why, I didn't curse her. “I don't know.” I stated. “Can you get us out of here?” Dean asked, speaking before Sam could. “I can only take her.” I was disappointed that I couldn't do more for them, cure her even. “It's ok, Cas. We’ll meet you there.” Sam said, looking to his brother. “Don't try anything stupid.” Dean said, pointing a finger between myself and YN. I tilted my head as I put two fingers on her forehead. What did that mean?

READER’S POV

You were standing in front of him in your white gown, he was wearing his best suit and tie, the both of you ready to say ‘I do.’ Your hands were encased in his, he was rubbing his long fingers over your knuckles, his eyes staring deep into your own. You couldn’t remember how you got here but you wanted nothing more. It was everything you had ever dreamt of. With all of the people you held dearest to your heart watching, the priest asked you to say your vows. Tears threatened to fill your eyes before you could even begin.

“I have loved you since the moment you said hello to me. I knew someday my prince would come. I can’t imagine ever going through this life without you. You have been there for me through so much, you almost died for me and I want you to know that I would do the same for you, until the day I stop breathing, I will love you. I will sacrifice everything to have you by my side. I love you, don’t ever forget that.”

Your tears streamed down your face as you stared into the eyes of the man who held your world. “YN, You have made me the man I am today. You never gave up on me, even when I didn’t deserve it. You saved me from myself all those years ago and I could never thank you enough for that. I will spend the rest of my life being everything you deserve. I will never ever let you down again. I love you, YN.”

The priest went through the traditional wedding ceremony, ending with “You may kiss your bride.” He took your face in his hands, leaning down to seal the deal, and that’s when it happened again. Everything went black.

DEAN’S POV

“I hate witches!” I growled, pushing out of my chair and heading for the fridge, I tossed Sam another bottle and cracked mine open, taking a long pull before wiping my lips on the back of my hand. Lying on the bed, she looked so peaceful, like she was having the best dream ever. But she’d looked like that for hours and it was starting to grate on me, I just wanted our YN back; teasing, laughing, bratty, awake, YN! “Stop pacing and staring, once we figure this out, then we have to figure out who it is that can wake her.” Sam sniped, annoyed, we were all at the end of our tethers. I sat back down and reached for the iPad when my phone went off, I snatched it up and answered. “Garth?” I said after hearing the familiar voice. I pushed it onto speaker and held the phone between Sam and I. “Hey guys, just wondering if y’all had any more info about that witch, she’s heading through Kansas.” Garth said, that never changing, upbeat tone just annoying Sam and I further. “We’re kinda busy trying to find a spell to undo a curse… YN’s curse.” Sam said, his voice bristling, I glanced over at him, shooting him a look, it wasn't Garth’s fault after all. “YN? She ok? I didn't know she was working the case with you.” Garth replied, unperturbed by Sam’s tone. “She wasn't meant to be!” I snapped, I couldn't help it, sometimes Garth had that effect on people, as smart and kind as he was. “Alright. Don't blame me!” He chided, “I’ll come help, see if I can't figure it out as well. I’ve got you in Kearney, be there in an hour.” Garth said before hanging up. Sam and I shared another look before he dove back into research, I glanced over at you. You had to be ok, we had to find the reversing spell, you were family and you couldn't be Sleeping Beauty forever.

Readers POV

You shot out of bed soaking wet and in excruciating pain, this was it. You were having your second baby! “Babe, get up, GET UP!!” he jumped up, pulling his shotgun out from under the mattress, waving it around in a panic. “What happened? Where is it?” his eyes darted around the room, finding nothing but a wet, and pissed off wife. “I’m going into labor, yo-OWWW, you idjit!” you yelled, stuttering through the contractions. His face went pale white. “Call Ellen to come watch Robert! We have to go, NOW!” he made his phone calls while gathering your overnight bags and rushing you to the car. You made it to the hospital in record time, little Robert in tow waiting on Ellen to arrive at the hospital. The nurses wheeled you down to your room while he stayed with your eldest son, you were praying with everything you had that you didn’t give birth without him there.

About five minutes later the doctor walked into your room, checked your dilation and decided it was time for you to push. White knuckling his wrist you glared at him, angry and in pain. “I am not doing this without my husband! You’d better shove something up there to --” just as you were about to give that doctor the what for, your husband burst through the door. “Shh, baby calm down, I’m here. We are having our baby now. Everything will be fine.” he squeezed your hand, stroking the top gently with his thumb, rubbing your swollen belly with his free hand. He leaned down and kissed you on your forehead, moving the hair away from your sweat soaked face. You looked up at him and smiled, followed by a scream even the nastiest banshee couldn’t match. The doctor wheeled his little round stool to the front of your bed, lifting your hospital gown over your legs. “Ready to have a baby, guys? Push, YN!” You pushed with all your might, until you had to stop for air. Gasping you squeezed again, a wave of relief coming over you. The pressure from the baby was finally gone, suddenly you heard a gurgle followed by the most precious sound a parent can hear; the sound of their baby crying. The doctor wrapped your baby up and handed him to you. “You have another boy, congratulations!” You looked up at your husband with pure joy in your eyes. He was tearing up, looking down at the little person you two had created. “He’s beautiful, YN. He looks just like you.” Joy filled your heart as you looked back at your baby boy. Handing him to his father, you closed your eyes and for a moment everything was dark again.

GARTH’S POV

I pulled into the motel parking lot and parked, my car backfiring as I did. Damn heap of junk. I realized now I didn't have their room number, I struggled to get my phone from my pocket as a door opened. “Garth!” Dean called out, I jogged over to him and brought him into a hug, he patted my shoulder then guided me into their room. “Hey Sam!” I greeted, going straight over to YN on the bed. I took up her hand and ran a thumb over the back of it. “What’s happened to ya, Darlin’? What's that nasty witch done, hey?” I asked, well aware she wasn't about to sit up and start talking just cause it was me, I let go of her hand and turned around to the boys. “Well, what’ve you got so far?” I asked, helping myself to a beer and rifling through the pieces of paper on the table, then going to stand behind Sam. I didn't miss the look they shared, but it didn't bother me. “Well,” Sam started, running a hand through his hair, “Cas said it was definitely the witch, but only one of us can cure her.” “Yeah,” Dean chimed in, coming to sit at the table, “We’ve not found much else, only that it will be someone close to her to break it, going off literally anything involving witches. Even fiction.” He rolled his eyes, but it got me thinking. I joined in researching, at some point Dean and Sam went to get dinner, I moved over to the bed and sat by her, I don't know when I took her hand, I was wishing and praying and hoping “Come back to us, snap out of it!” But nothing happened. I must've fallen asleep at some point cause next minute Dean walked in with a big bag of takeout, “Right, the only place open was Snow’s Burgers. Hope you like white buns.” He smirked and snorted a laugh at his own joke, but it hit me. Snow White. I leant in and placed my lips gently, tenderly to hers, I’d loved this short, brave, smart, wild woman from the day I met her, but I was used to paling in comparison to the brothers, what would she see in me, but maybe my love was enough. “Uhh… Garth? What are you doing?” Sam spluttered as he walked in. “Garth!” Dean called, I sat back and watched YN’s face for a reaction, for a sign of anything other than sleep. She didn't stir, I shifted away from her, off the bed, it was worth a shot. “Garth!” Dean’s voice wasn't as loud and I looked up, “Yeah, I get it De-” he wasn't looking at me, he was looking over my shoulder. “Garth?” Her voice was soft and husky, as if she really had been asleep. I turned slowly, taking her in. Her hands were rubbing at her eyes, her mouth lifted up in a smile, then one hand dropped to her lips. “Good Morning, Princess!” I beamed.

Reader’s POV

Your eyes fluttered open, an all too familiar scent washing over you. You dropped your hand to your lips, they were slightly wet and a pleasant but unfamiliar flavor filled your mouth when you ran your tongue over them. Looking up, Garth was standing only a few feet away from where you were lying, the others standing across the room. You stared up at him, a small smile coming to your face as the memories from the hunt came back to you. Had Garth lifted the curse? “Good morning, Princess.” He beamed. He was the only one you had dreamt of while you were unconscious. “How long was I out?” You asked tentatively, still trying to clear the fog that clouded your brain. “Long enough to need rescuing!” He tried for confidence but it came out in only a way Garth could make cute, timid and unsure. In only those few hours he had become your husband and the father of your children. He had become everything you’d ever hoped for. “How'd you break the spell?” You knew he was your prince in shining armor, but were you his damsel? He came to sit by your side, pushing the hair out of your face and behind your ear, his long thumb grazing over your cheekbone. Was this still a dream? “True love’s kiss.” He whispered, as if it should've been obvious. He held your gaze, sharing the love that had been hidden all along. Clutching him by the lapel of his jacket, you pulled him in for a searing kiss, this one you would remember and you put everything into it, hoping he would never forget. “I love you, Garth, I always have.” Your eyes searched his for any sign of rejection, maybe this was the someday your parents were talking about when they promised your prince would come. His breathing was heavy, panting for air he couldn’t seem to find, your kiss rendering him speechless. He didn’t know what to say. He never, not even in his wildest dreams, thought that he would be the one you were in love with. “I-I love you too, YN. Turns out I was your prince after all.” He blushed, letting you pull him in for another kiss, never wanting to forget the feeling of your lips on his. He would make sure he was your prince charming, now and forever.