#it looks like i recorded this on a piece of bread

[onmebackmush]

it's always “ben cook almost falling in seize the day” & never “iain young almost falling in kony”

[octopiys]

what happens if honey (reader) is home alone and theres a break in? or she's in any danger and Simon's not there haha hypothetically what happens 👁👁

ohhhh anon I love what you're thinking here

Lost and Found

Cw: panic attack, violence, blood, death (but its deserved) [not proofread]

Simon goes out of town for his job. He was lucky, he said, too have as much time off for that long while as he did.

He'd only be gone a few days.

Yeah, a few days, you can do that, right? Easy.

You had a ton of leftovers and still more food in the fridge. You should have enough dog food to keep the bowls full outside, and you can still go out in the yard.

You're not on house arrest while he's gone. You can still do whatever you want.

So for the first hour, you sat on the couch, staring at nothing while the duck slept in the box, and Scraggle settles right in your lap, yapping.

What could you do while he was gone? You were overwhelmed with possibility. What couldn't you do?

You missed him. Tears pricked your eyes, stung the waterline, you missed him.

So you do what you're good at, and cook about it.

Kinder to bury your sorrows in the stove than in the ground. What can you make?

There's fish in the freezer. You're not sure what kind it is, but it's only labeled with "price."

What the price is, you're not sure. But Simon would've told you if there was something you couldn't use, right? Maybe it's an expensive fish. Bagged in vacuum seal plastic..... yeah, it probably won't be missed.

You're frying tonight. You've got bread crumbs and oil, and a spare lemon from the fruit bowl. The sun is setting, and the first piece comes off as a test.

You try some of it, hissing at how hot it was, before making direct eye contact with Scraggle, who suddenly seems like it's never been fed in its life. You roll your eyes and slide some to the cat with a quiet warning of "It's hot!"

The cat paws at the piece of fish, before launching in a perfect vertical off the counter, yowling it's head off. It leaps off the counter, does a lap around the room, knocks a few sheets off the printer, launches back onto the counter– you can't help but watch, there was no way to stop it– takes the fish in it's mouth, and darts outside.

You stand in the kitchen, alone and in disbelief.

You look around, as if Simon could've seen that whole fiasco, before laughing softly to yourself.

(Those cameras prove interesting videos when there's a lull in the mission, or there's quiet time in the safehouse. He'll wait for you to tell him about it first. The cameras won't be mentioned.)

The fish and potatoes come off the stove, and you make yourself a plate. You set it at the table, before going to put a record on.

Simon had forgotten he had those. They were stowed away in the garage, with a bunch of old boxes that he still couldn't bare to look through yet.

He hears some old tunes playing from inside of the house, and freezes, memories jolting back to stun him.

He's stumbled into the house, using the walls to push him along, feeling weak in the legs and soft in the head, spinning out of control, until he sees you humming along in the kitchen, the soft sway of your hips to the tunes of an old song he can't remember the name of. You're tasting cookie dough from a spoon, lost in the bliss of it all. At peace. Safe.

He swallows roughly, a sting at his eyes unfamiliar, the tightness in his chest suffocating.

For the first time in years, he thinks the words: I miss my mom.

You hadn't noticed him enter then, those weeks ago, nor had you heard him leave. You sway your hips, moving rhythmically to the instrumental soundtrack as you made your way over to the table.

You were sure Barrow was asleep somewhere, and the smaller mutt with her (inseparable, they were), and Scraggle was off somewhere, recovering from its zoomies. Just you and the music to dinner, then.

By the time your dinner had finished, the dogs were out for the night. The bowls were full, and new blankets were layed out.

You decide to take a bath tonight. Simon said you could use his bathroom, and you wanted to maybe try and take full advantage of it.

When was the last time you had a proper bath? You didn't have any salts, but that's okay. There were a few candles in the cabinet in the kitchen, and your bodywash would bubble up the hot water enough.

You hum softly to yourself as you slip out of your clothes and into the warm water with a sigh. Relaxation slips into your being as the water spills over every inch of you, your hair not touching the water. Your book, the old copy of the Hobbit, finds it's way into your hands as you pick up where you left off. The music is still playing down the hall.

The pony is in the river– something breaks outside. Scraggle must've gotten on your plate, silly you for leaving it out.

The brothers go after the pony, ladden with supplies, but Kili-

The music ends abruptly.

You freeze, hairs on your arms standing straight up. Your stomach flips with sudden anxiety, despite virtually nothing happening.

Obviously, Scraggle must've unplugged the cord after hopping off the table where your plate was. Yeah, that was it.

–pony, ladden with sup–

Ice floods your veins at the realization. You were supposed to be alone in the house. Scraggle hadn't come back inside before you locked the back door.

You cover your mouth to stifle a gasp, scrambling out of the tub as quiet, and urgently, as you could. You slip back into whatever you were wearing before, it didn't matter if it had been dirty or not.

Did Simon keep weapons in the house? There were steak knives in the kitchen. The main phone line was in there, too.

Simon had an emergency phone in his night stand.

Something smashes and you jolt, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you move to peek around the lower corner of the bathroom door.

Shadows dance along the wall and your heart skips a few beats, dancing in your throat.

Had he come to find you?

N- no, you were safe here. Simon told you, he promised you were- what was the emergency dial for this region? You didn't know, could it change? You had to find the phone, and something to defend yourself with.

You held your breath, skin damp, still practically half naked, before darting across the room to the nightstand, and pulling it open soundlessly.

Inside were a few cords, a notepad, moisturizer, and a flip phone.

Of course it was a flip phone.

You open up the contacts tab, cringing at each small beep made by the keypad, tucked in the gap between Simon's large bed and the wall.

>JP

>JM

>KG

>Work

What do you choose? Who were these contacts?

You hear someone laugh, and tears spill down your cheeks. You can't go back, you can't, he couldn't find you this soon.

The phone is dialing. You don't remember which one you picked.

It answers on the second ring. No one speaks.

"...s- simon-" Your voice wobbles out, just below a whisper. Something else breaks, and a quiet sob leaves your mouth.

"Honey? Why're you-"

Relief breaks across you at the familiar gruffness of Simon's voice. Thank God he picked up.

"Someone- someone's in the house- two people- I d- don't know what-" You stumble over your words quickly, trying to tell him everything all at once. You can't breathe. "Need- your help, please-"

"Someone's in the house?" You can hear him stand. There's a bite in his voice, like the edge of a dagger, or the cold of a glacier, immobile. "Where are you?"

"Y- Yes, Simon, please-" You hiccup, stifling another sob with a hand over your mouth. You tell him you're in between his bed and the wall.

"There's a lockbox under the bed. Can you see it?" He asks you.

You scoot a bit, and peer under the bed. It's practically spotless, the gap between the bed and the floor just large enough to squeeze in if someone needed to get under there. You locate the box.

It's on the other side, closest to the door.

"I- I see it-" You whisper.

"Get in there. There's a code-"

You'd have to put yourself between the box and the door in order to open it. They were just down the hall, how they hadn't made their way back here yet, you didn't know. Then they'd catch you, they'd catch you for sure if you left your spot right here, and drag you all the way back- they'd push you through the fields, and the miles of woods, oh god, they'd make you go back to him. They'd make you go back to-

"Honey-"

You're hyperventilating, thinking yourself into a hole. There's no way that you could see yourself getting out of here in the way you want.

"Honey!"

You snap back into it. Lockbox.

"S- Sorry- I can reach it, let me just-" You take a deep breath to steady yourself, and push yourself under the bed. You reach, and can't touch it, so you dig harder, push yourself a little more until your fingertips graze the cold metal of the box, and you tug it towards your, curling in on yourself to open the box.

You punch in the code, open the box, and–

A hand wraps around your ankle and yanks with a sick pop, pulling you out from under the bed. You scream, your phone clattering into the box. You see it close, watching in horror as the bed disappears from above you, your shoulder catching on the underside of the bed on the way out.

You immediately turn, fight or flight kicking in, and lash out, screaming. Your fingers dig into the man's throat, you can't see, before his arm rears back and strikes you across the face.

You don't remember hitting the floor.

You come to, the coarseness of the carpet scratching your back, rugburn. You twitch, blinking the bleariness out of your eyes before writhing, you're being dragged by your legs. You kick out, screaming, turning to grab the walls, or nearest piece of furniture. A book on the ground, you launch it at the head of the man, covered in a ski mask.

He yelps out, dropping you, and you scramble to your feet, head spinning, before you launch yourself back down the hallway.

There's a man in your house.

You find another man in Simon's room. He's got the box open at his feet.

You lunge at him, screaming, your mind blank with fear, or rage or- well, there are men in your house. They want to hurt you.

Who would care for your animals if you were gone?

You don't know how, but the gun is in your hands.

There's blood, and there's a lot of it, and you can't tell how much of it is yours.

There is a man, in your house.

You rise shakily to your feet, heart thudding in your ears. You turn to the doorway of Simon's room.

You make your way out of the room, a heavy limp to your step, your hips ache in the curve of your legs, a dull pain muted by adrenaline.

No one. No one will hurt your animals. No one will hurt your house.

Lucky for you, the man meets you halfway. His nose is bleeding, and you raise your gun at him.

He stops, leaning against the wall as he smiles, the blood from his nose staining his teeth.

"Cmon, Baby, you don' know what yer doin'... Jus' drop the gun. I'll help you out, Baby, cmon Baby, jus-" He coos at you, like you're helpless.

There's a yowl, and a flash of cat, and Scraggle appears from almost nowhere, sinking it's toothy mouth into the man's ankle. He shouts out, hopping up onto one foot, flinging his other wildly. Scraggle shoots up into the air, before landing on its feet, hissing erratically.

The man starts forward towards your cat.

"Why you little-"

There's another flash.

You sink to the ground, your head in a pounding agony. You can't hear anything past the ringing in your ears, the loud screech leftover by a fired gunshot in close quarters. You can't hear, can't breathe.

You're bleeding, somewhere, you don't know if you can find out the source.

Scraggle curled up in your lap, purring and licking at your hand.

Did you see, mother. Did you see how good Scraggle has done. Defended the home front, all alone, no help at all, did you see how good Scraggle has done? Praise it, praise it mother, feed it extra tonight, Scraggle deserves it, bested the beasts by itself, it did-

Your eyes drag over to the body of the man in the hall, and you do nothing about it. A kind of satisfaction fills you, like sweet rot, mossy mildew in your chest. Your hand rests on Scraggle, who was completely unharmed.

There's a slight smile on your face as the medicine kicks in, and you nestle in closer to Simon. The questions will come later, sleep is now. No one hurts your animals.

You blink, and someone's crouching in front of you, cradling your head in his hands. You hum, tired enough to not bother opening your eyes. He opens them for you, shining a bright light, and you flinch back with a whine.

He's pressing his forehead to yours the second the light disappears, mumbling something you still can't hear.

You mouth his name, or say it, you can't tell, and lean into the warmth that is Simon. Your face is wet with fresh tears, and everything hurts, fix it Simon, please-

He pulls you into his arms, Scraggle brushing up against you, purring. You can't hear it, but you can feel the vibrations of your favorite little critter, trying to do it's best to help heal you.

You're carried to your room and sat in your bed, Simon wrapping your shoulder in bandages– when did he get those?– and looking at your ankle. You're sleepy, you lean against him, seeking warmth body heat and comfort. He wraps his arms around you, and you fall under, your eyes drifting shut as you start to snooze against him.

You didn't seem to make the connection that there was more than one person helping him out, no matter how they got there so quickly.

John sticks his head into the room as you fall asleep, spotting Gaz on the floor trying to set your ankle, and Simon behind you, holding your sleeping form.

"She alright?"

"Yeah, sir. Just a bit roughed up. Where's Soap?" Simon rumbles, voice noticeably quieter.

Scraggle jumps up on the bed, nesting between you both. Blessings and healing to mother, blessing to father-

"Takin' out the trash." John responds. "Mind if we crash here for the night, once we get it all cleaned up?"

"Not in the least. There's pasta in the fridge, Cap'n."

And no one calls you Baby.

masterlist

[notthecutesttrash]

Mascara and Tears

Content: You’ve escaped him before, and this time you’ve made a life for yourself. You decide one day to go out with another man and risk him finding you.

Warnings: 18+ Dark bloodlust Gojo, kidnapping, death, blood, implied noncon, yandere stuff you know.

Word Count: 2.5k

It’s been months after the first escape attempt. 

Gojo had been on a mission and left his door barely locked, it was enough for you to devise a plan to make a run for it. 

You were caught in half an hour. 

It’s been weeks after your second. 

You managed to drug him when he least expected it, leaving you to escape as quietly as possible. 

This time, you left no trace. This time, you’d be happy.

You’ve studied him well enough to know that he was capable of finding you. But he hasn’t, so you know you’ve done a good job. Still, you find yourself terrified even in the cold nights. Occasionally you’re overcome by fear and restlessness as paranoia surges through your mind. 

You’re angrily pressing your fingers into dough before your coworker Andy pats your back and saves you from the contemplation. “Treat the dough with a little respect (Y/n), it’s your friend, not an enemy,” he jokes and you force a small chuckle. 

“Sorry, just got too into it.” 

He laughs in response and begins to knead at one of his pieces. “I get it, sometimes it’s fun to play with and throw around. You can make some pizzas, bread, or sweets. You can do anything with dough, and that’s the beauty." He’s nearly beaming at you, and you're stifling a chortle, breaking out with a “nerd.” 

“Hey!” He points accusingly and you snicker. 

When a comfy silence erupts and you’re both drawn into your work, after a few minutes, Andy clears his throat. “So, (Y/n).”

You turn to him, and there’s a small blush on his cheeks. Your heart drops a little, and you’re begging silently. Please don’t say it.

“Do you maybe want to get drinks after this shift?” 

He said it. 

Inwardly sighing, you squint your eyes as if lost in thought and he stammers. “I mean, I know you always have a busy schedule, but I just thought- I don’t know, it’d be nice to get your mind away from things for a change. You always look so tense.” 

No matter how many times he or your other coworkers would ask, you were always busy. One day your sister had to be picked up, you had to run to the hospital, or your dog needed walking. Meanwhile, in reality, you’d sit at home and cradle yourself in fear. Sure that the one moment you're caught off guard, you'd find Gojo sitting quietly in your room with the lights off, ready to take you just like the last time.

Humming in response, you agree, you are always tense. 

Maybe just one day of going out would do you good. He wasn’t bound to find you just from a chat at the bar right? There’s only so much sitting and moping around in lonely shivers that you can partake in.

Besides, if you’re actually free now, you can finally have friends. People to make you happy, to have conversations with, and to freely walk around with wherever you want. Rather than just being kept in a locked room that was no bigger than a dozen feet across. 

Maybe if he finds you again, you’d at least be happy with just having this bit of freedom. 

Shaking yourself out of the thoughts, your brows knit together angrily. You’re not going to let that happen. 

Turning to Andy, you give him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, that’d be fine.” He gasps and practically bounces in the joy that he attempts to so poorly conceal. 

He works with the dough a little less focused now as the grin stays glued to his face. “Awesome, so there’s this place around town that just opened up, heard it’s fancy though, don’t know if you want to go there.” 

You shrug. Truthfully because you never went anywhere or did anything you had a bit of spare money saved up. You didn’t mind splurging for today.

But what if Gojo finds your records? What if somehow has your bank account information? Or finds you had gone there with another man? 

“(Y/n)?” Andy calls out when you don’t answer.

“No no,  I don’t mind, sounds great. But don’t know if we’re really well equipped for that after work.” Gesturing to your clothes filled with baking powder, Andy glances to his own and shares a laugh. 

“You’re right.” A blush scatters to his face again and you’re exhaling a small sigh. 

“I guess I can pick you up after..?” He trails off expectantly, his hand brushing against his neck as he timidly averts away. If only Gojo hadn’t ever been involved, then you’d think about having a possible romance.

“Sure.” 

You press your hands into the substance for what feels like hours until your wrist feels like it’s going to fall off. And when you go home, you’re holding your breath, a stammering in your chest as you walk through the door. Your first instinct is to always immediately click the lights and when you'd notice nothing, you'll slump in great relief. 

You refuse to allow the thoughts of this kidnapper to ruin your day out. You’re free now, that’s all there is to it, and you dress yourself up real pretty to prove that. Even having the liberty to apply makeup which you’ve never done for Gojo. 

Not even if he tortured you and rubbed the bottom of your lip, declaring just how pretty you’d be if they were stained red just for him to ruin. Even if he forced you on your knees and implied just how much he’d love it if he could see the mascara rolling down your cheeks while you cried. 

This time, you were going to be beautiful to no one else's enjoyment but yourself.

Andy had been patiently waiting and when you stepped out his heart sped into his throat. You smile at him and his skin burns red. 

“Now I almost feel a little underdressed,” he mumbles awkwardly glancing down at his attire. 

“Don’t worry, you look fine. Anything’s better than the baking powder.” Sharing a giggle, you two begin walking, the clack of your heels echoing against the sidewalk.

Andy is continuously glimpsing to you, then at the ground. His bottom lip draws into his mouth. “You look.. amazing by the way,” he finally breaks the silence, and you turn to him, gleaming.  

“Thanks.”

He gazes at you too long, gawking in amazement, and you lightly poke him out of the concentration. “Relax, I’m not that good-looking.” You joke, and he instantly shakes his head. 

“That’s not true (Y/n), seriously, you are.. you’re beautiful.” 

It's been awhile since you had a genuine compliment that wasn't so creepy sounding.

You would’ve rolled your eyes at the twinkling in his orbs. But this time you’re flattered and a light pink forms.

“Thanks.. I don’t typically get pretty for events or anything… I don’t really go out in general.” 

“Why not?” He’s quick to ask, brows knitting in worry. 

You cuss beneath your breath. Too much oversharing. Not talking to a person in a while will do that to you.

“Nothing- I just don’t like to. More of an.. inside person I guess.” Your eyes avoid his peering and he breaks out into a small smile. 

“I get it, my sis is like that, introvert right?”

You nod. That wasn’t remotely the reason, but you'll let him think that.

“I’m a bit of both, you know, I like talking but not too much. Sometimes it can be draining, sometimes it can be-“

“This isn’t going to be like your rambles about dough is it?” You cut him off jokingly and he shyly averts. 

“No no- sorry.. I have a tendency to talk too much.” Andy grazes his arm awkwardly, and you feel him distance himself a little. Perhaps that was a bit mean. 

You try to ease the heaviness in the atmosphere. “I like hearing your rambling. I was just being sarcastic, don't worry. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to joke like that,” you admit, and you notice him visibly relax. 

“That’s okay.” He beams and you mimic the expression.

When you reach the bar you’re in a nice little section by yourselves, and you’re surrounded by comfortable lighting, modern decorations, leather brown chairs, and relaxed people doing their own things.

It was amazing. 

“You act like you haven’t seen people in years,” Andy chuckles as he takes a sip of his drink. 

An evident frown shifts your expresion and he notices. His hand carefully touches your wrist and you shift to him.

“Sorry, did I offend?” 

Shaking your head, you force a small smile and declare an excuse. Whether it be along the lines of “just tired,” “lost in thought,” or anything else, it was all the same. The truth was too horrid even for you to bear. Seriously, how unlucky did you have to be for that?

There was only so much you could do for yourself. You’re ecstatic you managed to escape. You have a life now. You can see all these people, revel in the laughter, maybe even fall in love and have children. Though, maybe you were getting too ahead of yourself.

You made sure not to get drunk. When you walked home that was always the scariest part of the day. Whether it be at night, or in the morning, it didn’t make too much of a difference. A dangerous fear you have is walking pass a certain tall figure with white hair.

Though he’d more likely take the scarier approach. Stealthy. Watching you from the shadows and contemplating when he’d take you. You wondered many times if this was the case already. Perhaps he is just toying with your freedom. 

Repeatedly you force away from the anxieties. You can’t think so negatively. You have a life now. It’s already been a few weeks. You bested him whether he liked it or not. You won. 

Andy fortunately isn’t too drunk either, maybe a bit tipsy, but nothing unsafe. Man or not, having another person beside you made you feel comfortable. Even if Gojo was watching, he or any rational person isn’t likely to just snatch a person when they’re with another. It’s just too suspicious. No one can risk that. 

“Are you okay? You look scared,” Andy asks, and you fake a tug at your lips, a pouring discomfort in you. 

“I’m okay, it’s just the night can be a little creepy you know." You quickly reason.

Andy purses his lips, pondering a moment before draping his arm over your shoulder. Surprise rushes to you, a swarm of butterflies swooning at the gesture. He was warm, and his grip unlike Gojo’s was gentle. It was like you’d break if he held you any harder. 

“Don’t worry, I’m here.” He speaks with a determined but sweet tone and you giggle, leaning into his touch. 

“How sweet.” A mocking voice behind your form makes you stop dead in your tracks, eyes going wide. 

“(Y/n)?” Andy turns when you aren’t keeping up with him, and you’re frozen, still as a plank of wood. His eyes blink up at the cause, surely meeting your worst nightmare. 

You're terrified, but instinctively you whirl around, tears brewing in your eyes as you shout, “Don’t hurt him!” 

Gojo’s blue orbs are shining down at you, and he’s smiling wide.

“Oh?” He muses, raising his brow as he walks over to you. Every step he made caused you to flinch in place, and your hands were shaking as he rounded closer.

Suddenly his lips press to your ears and he whispers, “Should’ve thought about that before you ran off and made new friends.” 

Instinctively, Andy rushes to shove him away and Gojo holds out his hand, forcing him to stop in place. He grins, and you step back, fixating on those eyes you dreaded so much. “Don’t..” you plead.

Snickering, he strolls to Andy whose almost frozen, and he casually observes his features with a dark gaze. “Hm, I at least expected you to pursue someone better.” 

You open your mouth to speak, and blood splatters over you, gushing atop your pretty makeup. Your throat is unable to let out a blaring scream, instead your shaky hands move to your vision. Red. Red liquid splotched against your fingers, staining your skin. 

Gojo lets out a tired exhale, and he starts caressing your hair in the way you hate so much. The way he’d pet you without an ounce of care once he'd finish giving you a punishment or would cause you to heave out with sobs.

He's scanning you for a second until he moves and you instinctively shift back. Repeating, you step and something big crunches beneath your heel, causing you to fall back.

Finally, the scream escapes, and you’re rushing to crawl away from the horror. Blood is decorating the ground, the walls, the trash that lays around, everything, anywhere but on him. Gojo is sauntering, and there's a grin spreading his features wide.

Your desperate movement leads to no avail when your back hits a wall and Gojo eventually crouches down to you.

“Get away from me!” You shout as Gojo tugs your hair forcefully back.

His blue orbs glower at you. “Huh?” His grip tightens, and you whine from the pain searing in your scalp. “What was that?” He tugs harder and you scream.

Tears start to cascade, and you plead desperately. “Please d-don’t take me back.” The force pulling your locks lessens, and he stoically observes the scene.

You’re hiccuping through your sobs as you keep going, “P-Please… I don’t want to go back, I’ll do a-anything, p-please don’t take me there, please.” 

A grin finally breaks out as he speaks, “Now, where’s the fun in that?” He evilly snickers in a way that has you crying more. Even if you know pleading with him will do nothing, you’re desperate.

But it’ll only further amuse him.

“I don’t want t-to go." You’re whining pathetically, and he exhales a disappointed sigh as he ignores you to study the mascara falling in streams at your cheeks. 

“Man, what a waste,” he mutters to himself then presses a hand to his chin, tilting his head as he loses himself in thought.

“I’m surprised you even managed to avoid me for a whole month, I’m almost impressed.” His view is fixated on the sky as he continues. 

“Looks like the first punishment wasn’t enough. So hm, what am I going to do now?” He fakes a curiosity while a glimmer shines in his eyes. He knows, and so do you, and you’re sniveling through the choke in your throat at the thought. 

“I was gonna be all nice to you too. Even when you don’t deserve it,” he sighs. “I was gonna take you back home, have a sweet dinner date since it’s been so long, but.. since you decided to get all pretty for that guy there,” he motions to the corpse behind him, then zones in on you.

“I’ll have a bit of fun with you first.” 

You’re exploding into a fit of panicked tears, desperate begs falling from your lips. “P-Please don’t do this.” 

“Aw,” He mockingly coos, wiping a few tears from your eyes. 

“Don’t worry. You’ll love it.” 

·:*:· ★ ·:*:· ·:*:· ★ ·:*:·　 

A quick sketch for my girls out there.

[marwiaft]

Farm era mood board; TLOU.

Baking fresh bread, getting lost in arts and crafts, riding horses through the golden fields, hunting for food in the quiet wilderness—this is what life on the farm is all about, (or at least I wished it was). It's peaceful yet vibrant, like a little piece of heaven on earth. I mean, in the apocalypse, could life get any better?

Every morning begins with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the house, along with the quiet sound of the record player playing old music downstairs. The soft yellow glow of sunlight seeps through the curtains—hand-sewn by Dina and me, a reminder of the quiet afternoons spent chatting and laughing as we worked.

...

Baking has become my little ritual—it's a way to show love and care. The flour-dusted countertops are a familiar sight, and the house is often filled with the warm, inviting scent of fresh bread, pies, or Ellie’s favorite cookies. I’ve perfected the art of kneading dough while chatting with Dina — our laughs mingle together each time.

Caring for the animals is a routine that also brings me so much joy. Feeding the chickens, brushing the horses, and watching over the sheep gives life a peaceful rhythm. Ellie and I often work side by side in the barn, her teasing me about being "too soft" on the animals while secretly slipping the horses extra treats. Time seems to stop for a moment, I can finally breath.

...

In between chores, I find some time to spend with Ellie. In the afternoons, we take walks through the fields, hand in hand, talking about anything and everything. Ellie often has her guitar slung over her back, ready to play a song for me when we find a shady spot to rest. She loves making me laugh with her terrible jokes, but it’s the way she looks at me—soft, unguarded—that speaks louder than any words.

Evenings are my favorite, though. After dinner, when JJ's asleep and Dina’s curled up with a book, Ellie and I retreat to the porch. We share a blanket under the stars, her hand in mine as we trace constellations in the night sky. Sometimes she’ll play her guitar, singing softly, her voice carrying a mix of hope and tenderness that feels like it’s meant just for me. Sometimes, we talk about the future. What we hope for, what we want to build in the farm... or, we just sit in silence, letting the peace of the moment speak for itself.

Life here isn’t just about surviving—it’s about loving, healing, and finding joy in every little thing.

(can you tell the farm era is one of my favorites?)

[gavisfanta]

ICKS - GAVI

summary: part two of the ick trend with you and gavi.

warnings: none

"Okay today we're gonna do a proper challenge since someone had to ruin it." You gave Gavi a side eye while he just laughed. "So, I'd say you can start." You added and looked at your phone recording.

"Okay, so, I get the Ick, when you're hung over." He looked up from his piece of paper and your jaw dropped.

He laughed a bit as he looked at your phone, the display showing you looking at him while sitting next to eachother.

"You're so weird. How is that an ick?" You asked, you were a bit offended.

"I don't know its just you being sick." gavi answered with the same tone.

"But I love taking care of you when you're sick." you smiled and then pushed back a starnd of his hair that fell onto his forehead. "You're like a little baby then." You smiled while you said that in a high pitched voice and Gavi smiled as he kept eye contact.

"I dont know, it's such an ick seeing you sick." Gavi shrugged his shoulders and you then smiled.

"You get the ick and then you come and cuddle me until I fall asleep. Ah yes, makes sense. Anyways-" You repositioned yourself on the couch and then looked at your paper. You however felt Gavi's eyes piercing into your skin as he smiled a bit.

"I get the ick when you burn the food you were cooking." Gavi's jaw dropped as soon as you said that.

"But the last time you laughed!" He said a bit louder.

"Yeah, after I got the ick." You grinned at him while he pushed his hair back and shook his head.

"You're unbelievable." He scoffed but he still kept that small grin on his face. "I get the ick when you're yelling at me for not tying my shoelaces."

With that your jaw dropped. "Why is that an ick? It's normal to tie your shoelaces, otherwise they wouldn't be there!" You mumbled and then Gavi couldn't help but chuckle.

"You're on your knees in front kf me most of the times, you'll have some spear seconds to tie them for me." Gavi smiled and then looked back onto his piece of paper. You just tried to hide that smile that was building itself on your lips but you blushing was impossible to hide.

"Okay good, I get the ick when you ho like 'i dont know what to wear' and then I have to put you together a fit." Gavi said and then you shook your head while you smiled.

"I love your fits tho, it's so not my style but I love them." You answered while smiling at him.

"Do you think people notice?" Gavi asked while pointing to the camera.

"I don't know, ask them" You suggested but Gavi shook his head as he frowned.

"You do that" He insisted and you turned your head to the camera to speak to it. However just before you could speak you heard Gavi say something.

"I'm not that crazy to be talking to imaginary people." Gavi said in a mocking tone but still with a bit of sarcasm and you burst out laughing.

After you calmed down a bit you sat up straight and looked at the camera again. "Okay, comment or send me some dms which fit's you think were designed by Gavi." You explained and then turned to look at Gavi again.

"You know what I love about you?" You asked and obviously caught Gavi off guard.

"Babe we're filming a video of us telling eachother when we get the ick, and now you're just doing the opposite." Gavi threw his hands in the air while you burst out laughing. He just smiled at you while he shook his head.

"I can't help it," You calmed down again. "It's when you do that high pitched voice, when youre mimicking someone."

"Okay, I get the ick whe-" Gavi ignored what you said but you cut him off.

"Hey, it's my turn!" You told him and he remained silent. "I get the ick when you ignore me." You told him and he just wanted to open his mouth. "No, shush, because if I tell you to get some bread on the way home from practice and you can't answer with an okay or i will, and then get the bread anyways, that fucks my brain. Are you too important to answer my request of bread?" You asked and Gavi laughed.

"No it's just that I often don't have time while I drive." Gavi tried to talk himself out of the situation.

"And while you're in the store? Or do you go to a bread drive-in?!" You asked and Gavi shook his head.

"Okay I'm sorry for not answering you." Gavi apologized and you shook your head.

"It's okay." You smiled. "And I think that was enough for today, you wanna add something to the imaginary people?" You turned to face Gavi.

"Play the trailer."

[reidscanehand]

Just a Trifle

Remus Lupin x fem!Reader

Fluff

TW: insecurity in relationships

It’s still odd to stay the night.

You’re not quite the girlfriend, but not quite…anything else. The two of you stopped seeing other people long ago, months ago now, though it feels longer. He teases you, touches you, kisses you seemingly whenever he can, but…you’re not his girlfriend. At least he hasn’t said and you haven’t asked. And it feels silly and stupid and immature to wait for it, to even want to, or, rather, need to call him something…to make him yours, feels silly. But still.

You don’t live here, though there are pieces of you, like demarcations of your existence all over the place. A cushion the two of you purchased together that you’d meant to take back to yours, but had looked just as sweet on his couch, especially the morning after the two of you used it to prop up your head as you laid on the sofa and he laid in your lap, playing with his hair until the both of you were asleep. Or the coffee creamer in the fridge; Remus takes his coffee black, so it could only be yours. Or the toothbrush in the travel case next to his in the cabinet, purchased just for you. Even the hand soap in the bathroom - ginger mandarin, another shopping date find - served as a symbol of your presence in his life.

And now it’s Christmas. Christmas Day had been spent with your respective families only for the two of you to end up back at Rem’s. Frankly, it’s been weeks since you were home. Every time you return, your flat is like a living memory, forgotten oranges rotting in the fruit bowl on the counter, bread going stale, always cold even when it isn’t cold outside because you turn the heating off. You don’t really live there, not anymore. Most of your clothes live at Rem’s, space in his drawers opening up, seemingly if it’s own accord. It had all felt so natural…so why can’t you ask?

It’s as though he’s determined not to notice your predicament. There’s no way he can’t, though. Right? The two of you sit on the couch with the cute pillow, the tv quietly playing “It’s a Wonderful Life”. You know he’s not really watching, he’s probably asleep with your fingers running through his hair - it’s his favorite thing in the world or so he says. Suddenly he sits up and kisses your nose as he is wont to do.

“I can hear your brain moving, bun,” he whispers affectionately, as though unwilling to interrupt the film. “I know we didn’t really talk about presents, but I got you something.” He stands briefly and walks over to the cabinet he keeps coats in near the door. The top is out of both of your reach, but he tips on his toes and blindly reaches until he pulls down a small, shabbily wrapped little box.

“Just a trifle,” he assures you in his quietly formal way. You stand rather than take the gift right away.

“Good thing I got you something, too,” you laugh quietly, suddenly shy. You go into the bedroom and reach into your overnight bag, long since unpacked and taking up space in the closet. You’d hidden the gift in there, deciding to keep it for his birthday if the two of you didn’t exchange gifts.

“On the count of three,” Remus states almost mischievously as he takes the small gift bag from you and hands you the small box. He counts and the two of you open. His is swifter, it’s in a bag after all, requiring less effort.

“Oh, thank you, doll,” he says softly, his mind clearly elsewhere even as he admires the record you’d picked out. But you can’t say anything. Because inside the tiny box is a small, thin key. Imprinted on the key is “3B”. That’s this apartment. This is a key to his apartment. You hear Rem take a deep breath, your gaze still locked on the key.

“It’s taken me too long,” he practically whispers, Jimmy Stewart’s voice still whirring from the telly a good deal louder. “And you’ve…you’ve been far too kind about it, really.”

“Not too kind,” you whisper, surprising yourself. “Never too kind for you.”

Remus smiles and pulls you to him, crushing the key between the two of you. “See? Far too good for me you are.”

“Too good to be…what exactly?” you ask, dreading the feeling of it leaving your mouth.

“To be mine,” he responds, his voice firm. “To be my girlfriend, my partner…I want you to live here. With me. As long as you’ll have me.”

You beam into his chest, your heart thundering.

“Just a trifle?” you giggle, looking up at him. He smiles down at you, pressing ever closer, eyeing your mouth.

“You know, a trifle? An ultimate token of my love an affection? A symbol of my need to have you near me forever?” he laughs as your eyes grow wide. “Whatever you want it to be.”

“I want it to be…I want it to be a step.”

“A step?” he asks, eyes flicking between your mouth and eyes, arms still holding you close.

“A step to forever,” you say, voice just as sure as his now. “That okay?”

“That’s perfect,” he replies, “perfect, my love.”

~~~

Happy Holidays xx

[meshla-cyarika]

Migraines

Pairing: Hunter x gn!reader

Word count: 805

Tags/warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, cuddles, Crosshair being Crosshair.

Summary: Your boyfriend is back from a mission, but all his sensory input is catching up with him.

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

Fuck the Sepratists.

You've been on a week long mission with Delta Squad and have only just gotten back Coruscant. You didn't even see any action, all you had to do was sit in hiding for a week and snoop around to find out if there were Separatists on the planet. There were, but they had left long before you even arrived.

A drawn out sigh leaves your lips, as you make your way towards the mess hall. You've already showered and you're planning on taking a long nap, but you know that if you dont eat anything before then, Scorch's mother hen instincts will take over.

Once you get to the front of the que, the option of stew, or a slop that looks like it could be used to build houses stands before you. You ask for the stew, then you're about to make your way to a quieter table, when a booming voice yells out your name.

Your eyes land on the misfit band of clones known as the Bad Batch, who are sat at a small table by themselves. You instantly notice a certain sergeant's absence.

"Wrecker, I thought you lot were on Kashyyyk?" You tactfully take a seat next to Crosshair, knowing it's the spot where you're least likely to get bits of bread thrown at you by the snarky sniper.

"We were, but we crushed those clankers to dust!" Wrecker's booming laugh fills the air, while he clasps his fist in his other hand to emphasise his point.

"Is that a new record of how fast you've completed a mission?" You arch a brow and take a bite out of a piece of bantha meat.

"Hardly." Tech speaks up, not looking at his datapad for once. "Remember Felucia?" He gives you a look, referring to when they managed to take out an entire droid factory without even leaving the Marauder.

You let Tech and Wrecker break out into their own conversation, then you turn to Crosshair. "Where's Hunter?"

You're not that concerned, because you know that if anything drastic happened to the sergeant, you'd be the first to know. He is your boyfriend after all.

"Migraine." The sniper replies, seemingly too busy with picking off pieces of his bread to use as ammunition to actually look at you.

You sigh quietly and continuing eating your meal. Migraines aren't an uncommon battle for Hunter. With his enhanced senses, everything can become all too much very quickly. His migraines can vary from just a very strong headache, to throwing up and not being able to form sentences. Considering Crosshair's unbothered tone, this is one of the more mild ones.

You finish your meal quickly and stand up from the table to make your leave. "Well, not like this isn't fun, but I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"Which translates to: "don't come back to the ship, unless you want to be scarred for life"." Crosshair smirks up at you.

"Please. In his state, that might kill him." You scoff at his words.

"Urgh! Some people are trying to eat!" Wrecker complains, with a grimace set on his face.

《》《》《》《》

It's almost eery how silent and dark the Marauder is, when you step inside. Tech had mentioned something a while back about how he had managed to get rid of most of the noise pollution that the ship creates. How much they are willing to do for each other never fails to tug on your heart strings.

The light from the open door allows you to see a lump on one of the bunks at the back that you identify as Hunter. You step out of the doorway and the durasteel slides shut behind you, leaving you in darkness.

"Hunter." You call out softly, navigating your way to his bunk from memory alone. There's a grunt and a mumble of something that sounds like your name. "You need anything, cyare?" You sit on the edge of his bunk and your eyes gradually adjust to the darkness, which allows you to notice the few strands of hair in his face that you tuck back behind his ear.

"You. Just you." Hunter murmurs and you can't help the warm smile that etches it's way onto your face at his words.

"Shift over then, trooper." You give him a playful smirk.

"Rude." He huffs back, as he shimmies closer to the wall. You slide off your shoes and crawl into the narrow bunk beside him. Instantly, Hunter's arms are around your torso and he's tucking his face into the crook of your neck.

"I love you, you know that?" You absentmindedly comb your fingers through his hair and press a kiss to the crown of his head.

"Ni kar'taylir gar darasuum." He sounds like he's already half asleep, so you nestle closer to him and let your eyes drift closed...

[qkanaw]

**Batfamily Group Chat**

**Family Chat**

**Steph**: WHO. ATE. MY. SANDWICH?! 😡

**Cass**: 🍞👀

**Dick**: oh noooo not the sandwich again 😂

**Jason**: *yawn* …is this really worth a whole family chat notification?

**Tim**: WAIT THAT WAS YOURS?!?

**Steph**: TIM. WHAT. DO. YOU. MEAN.

**Damian**: It’s Drake. Of course it was him. Probably didn’t even know it wasn’t his. Idiot.

**Tim**: Okay first off, RUDE. Second off, I thought it was up for grabs! It didn’t have a name on it!!

**Bruce**: Food theft isn’t something to be taken lightly. Steph, I’ll order you another sandwich.

**Steph**: NOT THE POINT, BRUCE!

**Jason**: lol this is the best thing I’ve seen all week

**Cass**: 🍿👂

**Alfred**: Master Timothy, it is common courtesy to ask before consuming food items that do not belong to you.

**Tim**: In my defense, it was just sitting there. Unattended. Looking sad. And I was hungry.

**Damian**: “It was sitting there”—spoken like a true degenerate.

**Dick**: GUYS. Let’s solve this the Batfamily way. Steph, I’ll help you investigate who didn’t label it. We’ll gather evidence, fingerprints, witness testimonies…

**Steph**: Or I could just kill Tim.

**Duke**: Hold up, let’s not get hasty here.

**Cass**: 🔪👻😈

**Jason**: HAHA CASS GETTING IN ON THIS TOO

**Tim**: Cass, you’re supposed to be on *my* side!

**Bruce**: Can we please maintain some level of maturity here?

**Steph**: Not until justice is served. Unlike my sandwich. WHICH TIM SERVED TO HIMSELF.

**Dick**: What kind of sandwich was it, anyway? Let’s get into details. Important for evidence, you know.

**Steph**: Turkey, avocado, and the last piece of the sourdough bread.

**Tim**: Ohhh, okay, yeah. That was good.

**Steph**: TIM.

**Jason**: 😂😂😂

**Duke**: 😂😂

**Cass**: 🍖😎

**Damian**: What I find truly disturbing is how Drake continues to disappoint us all. Eating unlabeled food, not having any self-restraint, making bad life choices…

**Tim**: How is this a “bad life choice”? It was literally just a sandwich.

**Damian**: Everything you do is a bad life choice.

**Jason**: Don’t worry, Timmy, you’ll live.

**Dick**: Will he, though?

**Bruce**: If any of you decide to hurt each other over this, Alfred is not cleaning up the mess.

**Alfred**: Indeed, Master Bruce. I have cleaned up enough after all of you.

**Cass**: 👀

**Steph**: So what I’m hearing is… vengeance is allowed?

**Bruce**: No, Steph.

**Tim**: BRUCE, CONTROL YOUR CHILDREN.

**Bruce**: You’re all my children. And you’re all exhausting.

**Damian**: Some of us are more tolerable than others.

**Jason**: lol you wish, demon spawn

**Duke**: Tim, just buy her another sandwich.

**Cass**: Or make one! 👩‍🍳🧀

**Tim**: What, you think I’m gonna magically make a sandwich appear?

**Cass**: 🪄🥖

**Dick**: Cass has faith in you, Tim. You’ve got this.

**Steph**: Cass believes in you more than I do right now.

**Jason**: Hey, maybe if you guys do fight, I can record it. We’ll make it a family movie night.

**Dick**: Definitely. “Batkids Battle Over Bread: The Saga.”

**Cass**: 🍿🍿🍿

**Steph**: I WANT MY SANDWICH, NOT A FIGHT CLUB.

**Bruce**: Enough. I’ll order food for everyone. Case closed.

**Steph**: Thank you, Bruce.

**Tim**: Can we get pizza? I’m starving again.

**Damian**: Of course you are. Gluttonous fool.

**Jason**: Hey, I’m down for pizza too.

**Duke**: Same. I’ll take pepperoni.

**Dick**: Pizza for dinner it is. The family that eats together... survives Tim’s sandwich crimes together. 😜

**Cass**: 🍕❤️

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being Karasuno’s Manager

🧁🍩Miss Manager loves to Bake 🍪 🍰

Karasuno featuring Seijoh x female! manager (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: pure fluff

AN: This is probably the cutest anon request ever 🥹

Let me just say this

Kageyama might be “king of the court” but YN is “Queen of Karasuno” 👸

Honestly these boys absolutely worship you

Literally, they act as if they don’t have three managers

They literally will lay down in a puddle of mud while you step on them

Will do the above 👆 for any of their three managers

But you, you my love are super special to our boys

Why you ask?

Well it’s because you provide them with nutrients to survive 😌

That’s right, your love of baking and the fine art of culinary creations only helps you out with our beloved crows

You’ve learned to cater to all their needs

Filling recipes with top tier ingredients for success

Things like fruits, nuts, and even sneaking some veggies in there

Like zucchini bread or carrot cake

Listen, even if it’s in a desert, it still counts as a fruit or veggie

I don’t want to hear “tHe SuGaR cAnCeLs It OuT”

Because like these boys need the sugar to run and jump all over the place ok 🤚🏻

You bake almost daily as a form of stress release and therapy

Please you need it with the team you manage 🙄

And you always bring in the treats for the boys!

And they ALWAYS eat them up

“These are fantastic Yn what are they called?” Hinata asks

“They are Fudgy Pumpkin Brownie bites! It’s a new recipe!” You exclaim as Kageyama and Noya go in for thirds

“You fit a whole pumpkin in here Yn?!?” Hinata : D

You 👉🏻😐

“I think she means that there is pumpkin in the recipe not one per bite,” Ennoshita explains

I never claimed they were smart Yn

Anyways, you are always there to help our precious boys fill their bellies

You are in charge of snacks for games and practice, often finding joy in everything you do

So when the prelims for the road to spring nationals start, you are busy whipping up some goodies

You bake the entire weekend before, preparing for every possible scenario

Protein muffins for in between matches

Chocolate chip cookies for after they win matches

You even prepare some of your famous Strawberry shortcake cookies just incase the boys happen to lose

Not that we think they will, don’t get me wrong but it’s always nice to be prepared

Anyways, the prelims start and Karasuno dominates

Like, did we really thinking they wouldn’t 💅

Anyways, tensions run high as the boys go into their match with Seijoh

You remember the first time they fought against Seijoh and how the loss crushed them

But fueled up on your high-protein muffins, these boys are ready to kick butt!

And kick butt they do!

They beat Seijoh and prepare to meet Shiratorizawa in the finals

After the game, you notice how upset Seijoh is after their loss

You knew this was the third years last tournament and seeing them cry hurt

You thought about if it was your boys

And with that, there was only one thing left to do

So you pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a little note and stuck it in the box of cookies

As your team was preparing to leave, you grabbed your box of Strawberry Shortcake cookies and ran over to Seijoh

Karasuno rn 👉🏻👀

“Excuse me?” You said as the entire Seijoh team turned around and looked at you

“You guys played an excellent game and you deserve these,” you said handing Seijoh your expertly wrapped cookies

Oikawa accepted, saying nothing

Please you left him speechless

Too bad Kunimi’s too sad to even record this moment 😭

You smile and wave as you run back to your team

Meanwhile, back the gym the Seijoh boys are extremely sad

“Hey what did that manager from Karasuno give you Oikawa?” Kindaichi asked as Oikawa reached for the box

He reached for it, opening it as the note slipped out

Iwa picked the note up and began reading it

It read “Thank you for playing your hardest! You deserve these. Xoxo YN, Karasuno’s Manager”

“It’s cookies,” Oikawa said as he began to pass them around and Iwa showed Oiks the note

Oikawa rn 👉🏻😐🥺😭

Please the entire Seijoh team is eating your cookies and crying Yn 😩

The next few days go by

You are in the gym taking notes when a teacher comes to get you

“Excuse me?”

“Yes,” Takeda asks

“Umm there is a team of boys at the front gate here to see Yn,” the teacher says

Karasuno 👉🏻 a team…. OF BOYS 😐😑

Tanaka and Noya 👉🏻 FOR YN?!?? 😡🤬

“Oh my ok!” You say, getting up and walking towards the gates of Karasuno

Tanaka, Noya, Kags and Hinata are ready to go

It takes the entire rest of the team to hold them back 🙄

“WHAT IF THEY KIDNAP YN??” Noya shouts

“They literally showed up at the front of school in broad daylight, like that’s gonna happen,” Suga say, rolling his eyes

“Someone has never watched dateline before,” Tanaka adds

Of course, you ignore them and head for the gates

As you approach, you see the white track suits

You 👉🏻😐😳

“Umm hi,” you say as the boys of Seijoh all look at you

“Team!” Oikawa shouts and they all scream

“THANK YOU FOR THE COOKIES YN!” while bowing

You rn 👉🏻😐😳🥹

“You are so welcome! Thank you for coming!” You say smiling and going to hug them

You hug Iwa first and boy is he stiff 😅

It’s safe to say the entire Seijoh team is now in love with you Yn 🥰

Bonus

“Omg is Oikawa crying?” Kageyama says, shoving Hinata out of the way as they watch around the corner.

“Hey watch it butthole!” Hinata shouts as he pushed Kageyama out of the way.

“I’d cry too if YN hugged me,” Noya added as Tanaka nodded.

“You guys are about to have something to cry about if you don’t get your butts back to the gym RIGHT NOW!” Daichi shouted, looming over them as the boys all turned and ran back to the gym.

[luvnami]

shinazugawa sanemi is NOT the love interest of my dream office romcom! - chapter 3 (fuck me - no, not literally!)

ɞ an | this is a buildup to the okinawa trip arc in ch4 and ch5. i promise, we'll get more juicy bits soon! i wonder what will happen when sanemi and reader are on an island all by themselves... likes/comments/rb are appreciated. do let me know what you think about the fic! find the masterlist here ɞ cw / wc | mangaka!mitsuri and manager!obanai, sanemi's manboobs, blowjob mention, mdni (18+), 1.5k+

You think you might like ‘Doki-Doki Island Escape’ a little more than what you’d rather admit. You spend your weekend flipping through the first volume of the manga, in-between folding laundry and washing dishes (one of the many banes of your existence). 

The story starts off like any other: the protagonist visits her grandparents in Okinawa for summer vacation. She dreams about the ocean views and blue skies, but meets a boy her age that shows her the island’s secret: a magical gem that grants the user a single wish. As the pair explore the island and fall in love, they try to ignore their inevitable separation at the end of summer. 

The volume ends there. You put the book down and stare at the dark sky outside your apartment window, briefly thinking about a life where you’d wake up to the sound of waves crashing against the shore. There’s no boss breathing down your neck for project proposals, no skyscrapers obscuring the light-polluted sky. You close your eyes. If you try hard enough, you can almost smell the salty sea and hear the caw of seabirds.

Nope. It’s just a dream, after all, and the reality you live in is unfortunately a lot more pathetic than an idyllic Okinawan life. 

You wake up the next morning to your third alarm, blasting from your phone as the device vibrates off your nightstand and clatters to the ground. It’s Monday and you have 15 minutes to get ready for work. You curse and jump out of bed, though your comforter tangles around your legs and you tumble onto your bedroom floor with a muffled thump. You waste an extra minute unwrapping yourself and nursing the bump on your knee. 

You race around your tiny Tokyo apartment in record time to make yourself look somewhat presentable for the office. No matter how attractive you think a beefy, handsome manager scolding you for being late would be, Shinazugawa would rather have your head on a pike (which is, contrary to popular belief, not as attractive). You thank yesterday-you for having enough sense to iron your clothes in advance. You wriggle your head through your shirt, grab your blazer and bag, and bolt out the door – though you end up having to turn back because you’ve forgotten ‘Doki-Doki Island Escape’ on your bed, and you’re meeting with the client today.

The morning rush is as unforgiving as ever. You make space for yourself on the packed train by shoving your way through, muttering ‘sorry’s that don’t sound very sorry in the first place. You look at the time on your phone. Maybe you’ll have enough time to grab breakfast at the convenience store. As the doors open and droves of people step off the train, you yelp and clutch onto a handlebar to avoid being swept off with the crowd. So much for that Okinawa dream.

You make it to the office on time and in one piece. It’s a miracle, really.

“Hey, you’re not late today!” Masachika grins. 

You pretend to swing your fist at his head. He easily dodges, laughing it off. You spend the next ten minutes scarfing down your breakfast (red bean bread and a carton of juice) as Masachika tells you what he did over the weekend: taking care of his niece, watching a movie with his partner, the new recipe for chicken nanban he tried out. Way more entertaining and productive than your own weekend. 

You don’t have the heart to tell him that you spent half the time writing a new smut fic, so you lie about preparing for today’s meeting. The doubtful face Masachika gives you makes you feel a little bad, but not enough for you to tell the truth. You really, really don’t want to elaborate on how your protagonist gets eaten out by a vampire hottie. 

At 9.30am, you head over to a meeting room with Masachika and Shinazugawa. Your clients are already seated inside. The author, Kanroji Mitsuri, is all pretty in pink. Her eyes glitter and for a moment, you’re stunned, recoiling as sparkles and flowers pop up all around her face with a lovey dovey theme song playing in the background. Her aura shines like the sun. 

“Shinazugawa! Hi!” she smiles, and you’re almost knocked out by the pureness that radiates off of her. 

It’s a stark contrast compared to her manager, Iguro Obanai. Kanroji and him are as different as night and day. He’s dressed in all black and has a face mask on, with a glare so deadly it makes you want to prostrate yourself and beg for forgiveness for breathing the same air as him. You’re not quite sure who’s more terrifying – him or Shinazugawa. The more you think about it, the more you consider resigning from your job and living as a NEET, so that you never have to interact with men who haven’t outgrown their puberty-induced rebellious phase (i.e., Shinauzawa Sanemi and Iguro Obanai who think that glowering at everyone and everything is cool. It is not. It makes them look unapproachable and like a prick, not quite quiet and mysterious and Edward from Twilight as they intend to be. Though, you’re not one to gentle-parent a man into being socially approachable, so that’s on them to figure out). 

“Shinazugawa,” Iguro mumbles, though it doubles as a greeting. “Let’s make this fast. We have a lunch appointment after this, and I hate being late.”

You take a seat with Shinazugawa opposite Kanroji and Iguro, as Masachika serves everyone tea. Thankfully, even though your boss has a temper that reckons he must’ve been born out of Satan’s asshole, he’s professional and dependable when it matters. It turns out that Shinazugawa and Iguro have worked together before. A pair of unlikely friends, though you keep that thought to yourself since you do want to live to see another day. 

The meeting goes by smoothly. Kanroji is easygoing, and agrees wholeheartedly with the idea that you propose – a large poster set-up at a train station. It’ll help passengers connect the story of the manga with a vacation destination, and reach out to a varied audience on their daily commute. You’re relieved as Kanroji gushes excitedly over it, though you try to ignore the daggers that Iguro is throwing at you with his eyes. Shinazugawa silently nods along as you speak. You’re pleasantly surprised he doesn’t interrupt you. 

The meeting ends with setting a date to see each other again in a month. You attempt to scamper off to your desk after sending Kanroji and Iguro off, but Shinazugawa calls for you and Masachika to stay back in the meeting room for a little longer. 

“We’ll make a trip to Okinawa this weekend,” he says, arms crossed over his chest (drool-worthy, strong and broad, insert another fifty adjectives here to convey the sheer delight of a man’s boobs). 

You gape. It isn’t strange for teams to conduct field research to understand the subject of their projects better, though Okinawa seems a little out of the company’s budget for you to take Shinazugawa at face value. 

“Seriously?” Masachika scratches the back of his neck, sighing. “What a waste. I took the weekend off because I have to take my parents to the hospital for a check-up. I guess it’ll just be the both of you, then.”

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. 

“Alright. I’ll see you at the airport Saturday morning,” Shinazugawa nods at you.

Cut the cameras.

You are not about to go on a two-day-one-night trip to Okinawa with your manager. Sure, the purpose of the trip is to collect research material for your project, but it doesn’t help that it’s Shinazugawa Sanemi is the one going with you (read again: SHINAZUGAWA SANEMI, HOTHEADED BOSS, KNOWS YOU WRITE FANFICTION ABOUT HIM, AND IS HOT AS FUCK).

Heaven and hell must be plotting against you, because you don’t know if you’re overcome with joy or despair. 

You hope that you’re sharing – NO! You will have separate rooms. There will be absolutely no tomfoolery. This is not a real life fanfiction fever dream come true, where there is only one bed and Okinawa will be storming all weekend so you’re forced to stay indoors with each other’s company. This is a very professional work trip, thank you very much. 

“Yeah,” you mutter under your breath. “Yeah. I can do this.”

You’re strong. You’re independent. You will not fall for the office eye candy that is Shinazugawa Sanemi. As much as you can appreciate any well-groomed and decent looking man, office relationships are a line you’ve never considered crossing. It’s dangerous yet enticing, although you’d rather spend your time worrying about your 13th month bonus than sucking someone’s dick in the office storeroom on your lunch break. 

Shinazugawa gives you a puzzled look. The more he tries to understand you, the more he realises you are simply an enigma to him. He doesn’t know why he even bothers. A vein pops out on his forehead. 

“If you’re done talking to yourself about nothing, then you can go back to your work,” he seethes. 

“Yes! I’m sorry, we’re on our way!” 

You squeak out an apology and shove Masachika out of the meeting room. 

“I can’t believe you’re abandoning me with Shinazugawa,” you sniff. 

“I know you’ve dreamt about it. Make sure to use protection, okay?”

“Shut up! It’s not like that!” 

Masachika laughs and you whack him over the head.

[estellan0vella]

Love In Print│Bang Chan

Chapter Twenty Four: We Drink Our Feelings. Like Adults SS: 2 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 2K Content Warnings:

Previous Next Masterlist

Christmas Day feels like controlled chaos in Ayame's apartment. The tree in the corner twinkles with fairy lights, adorned with a mismatched collection of ornaments, most notably her beloved Smurf figurines, each perched proudly on the branches. Minho's cooking fills the air with the rich scent of spices, roasted meat, and warm bread, making everyone's mouths water.

Ayame sits cross-legged on the floor, her laptop propped open on the coffee table. Minho leans over her shoulder, squinting at the screen like he's the final boss of critique. Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jisung lounge on the couch, balancing plates piled high with food.

Hyunjin takes a massive bite of Minho's honey-glazed ham, moaning dramatically. "This is so fucking good. Minho, seriously, if the whole HR thing ever flops, you could run a five-star restaurant."

Minho doesn't even look up, his attention still on Ayame's laptop. "Shut up and eat, Twiggy. Ayame's got her big-ass board meeting, and we're making sure she walks in there like a goddamn queen."

"Why can't we eat and critique at the same time?" Hyunjin grumbles around another mouthful, his cheeks puffed like a chipmunk.

Seungmin, ever the deadpan observer, cuts in, "Because Minho lives to micromanage. It's his love language."

Jisung stabs a piece of mashed potato with unnecessary aggression, his scowl deepening. "I'm still fucking pissed about Chan. What kind of asshole plays the long con like that? If I see him, I swear, it's on sight."

Ayame shrugs, feigning nonchalance even though her chest tightens at the mention of Chan. "It doesn't matter. I've got this. He's just noise in the background."

Minho taps a few keys on the laptop, then leans back with an approving nod. "Aya, this is some next-level shit. You're going to annihilate that board. They'll be begging to give you the job."

Ayame raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a faint smile. "Does this mean you'll finally stop calling me pabo?"

Minho smirks, reaching over to flick her forehead. "Absolutely not. No matter how badass you get, you'll always be my dumbass. It's tradition."

Jisung slams his fork down with dramatic flair. "For the record, I went OFF on Chan in our group chat. I eviscerated him. Total scorched earth. He's probably still crying."

Hyunjin snickers, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Did you really, or did you send, like, two mildly angry texts and then chickened out?"

"I fucking went in," Jisung snaps, holding up his phone as proof. "Look at this shit! I called him a manipulative dick with more abs than sense."

Ayame snorts, reaching for her wine glass. "Thanks for defending my honour. You're truly the hero I didn't know I needed."

Jisung's eyes light up. "Does this mean I'm officially part of your collection of oppas? Minho, Hyunjin, Seungmin... and now me?"

Ayame pretends to think for a moment, then nods solemnly. "Welcome to the club, oppa."

Jisung fist-pumps the air, nearly sending his plate flying. "Yes! I've finally made it. This is the greatest Christmas gift of all time."

Minho snorts, leaning back against the couch with an air of smug satisfaction. He nudges Jisung's thigh with his socked foot, a teasing grin lighting up his face. "Look at that, jagi," he says, voice dripping with mock pride. "You, a Miroh troll, now officially one of us. What a fucking Christmas miracle."

Jisung clutches his chest dramatically, beaming. "Thank you, jagiya! I am honoured to be here, the chosen one, graced by the glorious presence of my Levanter colleagues."

Ayame groans from her spot on the floor, rubbing her temples like she's nursing a hangover. "Please, I am begging you both. You promised me no coupley shit today. Just one day. That's all I ask. That includes pet names"

Jisung gasps, his hand flying to his mouth like she just slapped him. He turns to Minho with exaggerated, wide-eyed horror. "Bad Minho! Bad, bad Minho! How dare you flaunt our unparalleled happiness in front of Ayame's shattered, fragile heart?! She's still piecing her poor, broken soul together after Chan stomped all over it!"

Ayame glares at him. "Wow, Jisung, you're such a fucking hero. Truly, a saint."

Minho chuckles, tossing a throw pillow at Jisung with casual precision. It hits Jisung square in the face, and Minho grins as he leans back. "You're impossible."

Jisung catches the pillow, clutching it like a shield. "I'm not impossible. I'm adorable. Ayame, back me up."

Ayame lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. "You're like a stray cat who keeps showing up at my door. I didn't ask for you, but now you're here, and I'm stuck with you."

Jisung's jaw drops, his hands clutching the pillow dramatically. "I can't believe you just said that! After everything we've been through! I defended your honour!"

Hyunjin snickers from the other end of the couch, popping a piece of ham into his mouth. "Yeah, Jisung, she really sounds like she's super grateful for you."

Seungmin doesn't even look up from his phone. "She's not."

Jisung groans, flopping back against the couch. "You're all terrible. Except Minho. Minho likes me."

Minho shrugs, not missing a beat. "Eh, you're alright."

Jisung sits up, clutching his heart in mock agony. "Traitor! Betrayed by my own jagiya!"

Ayame leans back against the coffee table, shaking her head. "God, you're all idiots. How did I end up stuck with you?"

Minho smirks, leaning over to refill her wine glass. "Fate, Maknae. Absolute fucking fate."

Jisung grins. "And because I'm adorable. Don't forget that part."

"Forget it? I'll get it engraved on your gravestone," Ayame shoots back, taking a sip of her wine as the room dissolves into laughter.

Once everyone finishes eating, Jisung leans back on the couch, balancing his plate precariously on his knee. He glances over at Minho, who's tidying up with a level of precision that could rival a drill sergeant. "Alright, now that I'm officially in the club, am I no longer a Miroh troll?"

Minho doesn't even look up from stacking plates into a perfect tower. "Oh, no. Unfortunately for you, Jisung, being a Miroh troll is permanent. It's in your DNA. You're doomed."

Seungmin smirks from his spot on the floor, his phone in one hand and a half-empty wine glass in the other. "Yeah, don't forget your roots. You might be a traitor now, but you'll always have troll blood."

Jisung groans, dropping his head dramatically against the back of the couch. "God, fine! But at least I'm a troll with taste."

"Debatable," Minho quips, not missing a beat.

Ayame chuckles as she collects glasses from around the room, her movements precise despite the wine she's consumed. "You didn't even have to be here today, you know. Chan's still your friend."

Jisung perks up at that, sitting up straighter as his face twists into mock indignation. "He was my friend. But now he's facing the ultimate punishment. My wrath. My silent treatment. It's brutal."

Hyunjin, draped across the armrest of the couch like a lounging cat in an expensive cologne ad, raises a perfectly arched brow. "You sure he's not gonna find that a blessing? I mean, peace and quiet for once? Sounds like a win."

Jisung gasps like Hyunjin just insulted his mother. "How dare you! My righteous fury is unmatched! The silent treatment is the most devastating punishment in my arsenal."

Hyunjin shrugs with infuriating laziness. "Sure, if you say so."

Jisung pouts for all of five seconds before his gaze lands on Ayame, who's crossing the room with a tray of empty glasses. He leans forward, his curiosity spilling out in his voice. "Okay, Ayame, real talk. What's with the Smurfs? I've been dying to ask since the first time I stepped into this museum of blue chaos you call an apartment."

Ayame freezes mid-step, a glass still in her hand. Her lips twitch as she debates how much to share. Finally, she sighs and sets the tray down. "When I was a kid, my eomma was always busy doing her lawyer shit. She'd leave me home alone a lot, so I'd just watch The Smurfs on repeat for hours. It was like having company, you know?"

Jisung's expression softens instantly. "Oh. Shit. That's actually kind of sad."

Ayame shrugs, trying to brush off the weight of the confession. "It's not that deep. It is what it is."

"Your eomma sounds cold," Jisung says.

Ayame snorts. "She's cold. She's efficient. Practical. Like a robot. With impeccable hair."

Seungmin sets his wine glass down, narrowing his eyes at her. "And you kept collecting smurfs because...?"

"They make me happy, okay?" Ayame replies, a slight edge to her voice. "They're nostalgic. Like a little reminder that I survived that shit."

Jisung nods solemnly. "Damn right. And now you've got an army of tiny blue allies. No one's gonna fuck with you."

"Except Chan," Hyunjin mutters under his breath and Seungmin slaps him upside the head.

Minho, sprawled out on the floor with his wine glass dangling from his fingers like he's in the middle of a Renaissance painting, glances at Jisung with mock exasperation. "You forgot to mention the fun part, Aya. Prepare to hear her tale of woe Jisung. Ayame's dad died in a car crash when he was leaving her and her eomma. Then her eomma tried to turn Ayame into a little corporate robot lawyer. Ayame, of course, had the audacity to think for herself, and now they barely talk."

"Jesus Christ, Minho," Ayame snaps, glaring at him, though there's more exasperation than actual anger. "Do you have to air all my trauma like it's a fun fact?"

Jisung's mouth drops open as he stares at her, looking genuinely horrified. "Uh, Ayame, have you, like, tried therapy? Like, professionally? With an actual licensed therapist?"

Ayame snorts, leaning back against the couch. "Why the fuck would I do that?"

Minho jumps in before Jisung can answer, gesturing dramatically at himself and then toward Ayame, Hyunjin, and Seungmin like they're a fucking art installation. "We don't do therapy."

Hyunjin raises his wine glass as though it's a prize-winning trophy. "Yeah, therapy is so... what's the word? Not slay of us."

Seungmin, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his wine glass balanced on one knee, doesn't miss a beat. "We drink our feelings. Like adults."

Jisung looks at them, utterly scandalized, his wide eyes darting between their faces like he's watching a car crash in slow motion. "Oh my god. That's- that's not normal. That's not fun. That's fucking alarming."

"Relax," Ayame says, rolling her eyes and gesturing vaguely at Jisung's wine glass. "You're drinking your feelings with us right now. Welcome to the club."

"No," Jisung says firmly, shaking his head as he gestures wildly. "No, this isn't a club. This is- This is mental illness. You guys are insane."

"You say insane," Hyunjin says, reclining dramatically against the couch cushions, "but we say mentally spicy."

"Mentally spicy?!" Jisung yells, his voice cracking slightly. "That's not even a fucking thing!"

"It is now," Seungmin deadpans, taking a slow sip of his wine. "Mentally spicy. Trademark it. Put it on a t-shirt."

Jisung throws his hands up, looking between them like he's debating running for the door. "I fucked Minho because he was the hot HR guy from Levanter, okay? I befriended all of you because I thought you were quirky, like fun weird. But no, you're not quirky! You're clinically fucking insane!"

Ayame doubles over, laughing so hard she nearly spills her wine. "Oh my god, Jisung, this is us. You're in too deep now. You can't leave."

"I don't know," Jisung mutters, narrowing his eyes at Minho. "I might just ghost you all."

"Good luck," Minho says with a devilish grin, leaning over to poke Jisung's knee. "I know where you live, and I've already got a key."

Jisung glares at him. "Why do you have a key to my apartment?"

"Because you let me stay over when I was drunk, remember?" Minho says innocently. "I made myself a copy. Very mentally spicy of me, don't you think?"

Hyunjin lifts his glass again, smirking. "To mentally spicy decisions."

Seungmin clinks his glass lazily against Hyunjin's. "To bad coping mechanisms."

Jisung groans, slumping back against the couch as Ayame raises her glass in mock triumph. "Welcome to the chaos, Jisung."

"I hate all of you," Jisung mutters, though the corners of his mouth twitch like he's fighting a smile.

"You love us," Ayame says, smirking as she takes another sip of her wine.

Taglist: @fackeraccount @ot8girlfie @nightmarenyxx @reimaybeidk

@ismelllikechlorine247 @drewsandsebastianswife @my-neurodivergent-world @rhonnie23 @hanji-coffee

@skzleeknowcore

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 33)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (31) & Alexia Putellas x Character (5)

Masterlist (other parts here)

(Only a little piece of Alexia in here...)

((**Any theories on who Joe is, send me a DM xD**))

YFN woke around 8:30am, having a decent sleep after her long day. She’d slept the best she had done in a week, and the only explanation was the warm right-back who was now gone. It was a disappointing feeling, waking to feel her not there, yet was superseded by the feeling of peace and security that came with the conversation she’d had the night before with Lucy. Lucy. She’d be halfway to Barcelona by now. She rolled over and could still smell Lucy there as if she’d only left a few minutes ago. She must be so tired, she thought, hoping she’d be able to sleep on the plane.

She woke and had her shower, letting herself chuckle a little at Lucy’s blue toothbrush and made her way out to the kitchen to find a note from Lucy on the kitchen island.

Good morning, little one.

You have no idea how difficult it was to leave you in bed this morning.  

I ordered breakfast for you for 9am. I hope I got the timing right and they don’t wake you up.

Have a great day, please; I know I will now that I’ve seen you.

Remember: I won’t have a phone until the end of today or tomorrow… and please also remember to cancel the company car.

PS: I love you, and don't worry, you were too tired to talk in your sleep last night.

Lucy x

God, that woman. She pulled the piece of paper to her chest and held it there, unable to contain her smile. She looked at the time. It was almost 9am. Lucy knew she only slept seven or eight hours a night and had, of course, timed it perfectly.

She checked her phone and the first thing she did was respond to Joe.

Joe: Which do you like best?

Joe had sent a few links to cars.

YFN: I’m sorry, Joe. Please disregard. No need for a car. Do you have time for a phone call this morning?

Joe: Copy that. I’ll call in ten.

She went back to her other messages and emails which mainly concerned the edits that her colleagues had done. One by one, she approved them to be posted to social media. This first round had been a test for many things, one being the editing following the collection of footage at the games. She’d expected there to be some need for notes or changes, but she didn’t find any. Joe really had chosen some talented individuals.

Lumos group chat: YFN: Morning all! First round was a success! Fantastic job, everyone. The footage we’ve collected is remarkable. I’m happy for all of these to be posted today. As for the interviews, I’ve reached out for players approval and will post them once I have them.

Again, fantastic work, and a reminder to ensure we’ve sent the personal videos and photos to the players for their own use.

Our goal for next round is to post real time recordings of the game, goals and significant events.

Any suggestions, feel free to let me know!

The group chat started responding eagerly as a knock came at the front door. YFN jumped until she realised it would be breakfast. She checked through the peep hole before she collected it.

Lucy had ordered her an acai bowl, juice, and more of the banana bread she’d loved from last night. She dug in, hoping Lucy had a chance to eat before training. Her phone started buzzing and she dropped her spoon to pick it up.

“Morning, Joe.”

“YFN! Good morning, how are you after yesterday? I imagine you slept well.”

“You’re not wrong there!” She laughed. “It took a lot more out of me than I realised, Joe! But on a positive note, I think it was a success.”

“I think you’re being a bit modest there! I’ve seen everything and I’m beyond impressed. Whatever you’ve done to prepare all week was excellent, just excellent! And your interview with the Arsenal and Man City players? Brilliant. I know it was thrown at you last minute, but I really liked the way it was more of a casual conversation than asking generic questions. It really brought out the characters of the players.”

“Oh, I agree. Even if I did have time to prep questions, I still would have let them talk about what they wanted and just steer them ever so gently within the lines we wanted. I’m also a big fan of interviewing multiple players at once. They bounce off of each other well, even if they are opposite teams.”

“I was going to mention that! It’s the first time opposition players have been interviewed after a match together, yes? I love the dynamic. As for the other footage… I want to scale this up already. Did you want to talk about extra people to cover more of the games?”

YFN could hear that Joe was excited and knew that she’d give her absolutely anything she wanted. But that’s not what this conversation was about.

“Actually, Joe, I wanted to talk to you about something else..”

“Fire away, anything you want.”

YFN explained her meeting Mark at the charity event, about the photographer with Mark at the game last night, and then how she was followed. There was a long period of silence at the other end until she sighed.

“I knew this would be an issue, I just hoped it wouldn’t happen until later on.” She admitted. “Firstly, they won’t hurt you. Think of them as paparazzi. Mark is competition of mine when it comes to business, and he uses his PIs to try and get controversial gossip to undermine my business and partnerships. Saying that, I’d really like to apologise to you for putting you in this situation. Like I said, I hoped we’d be much more established by the time they came after us.”

“That’s a relief to hear, Joe. I’m glad they’re just that and not lunatics. I’ve dealt with too many of those lately.”

“Yes, yes you have.”

YFN hesitated. There was still an unanswered question there. “Joe… what did Mark mean when he said you would bring controversy to the business if people knew you were involved?”

She knew it was a personal question, and fully expected her to respond by saying he was lying. But she didn’t, because she was Joe and she was an honest woman. YFN trusted her.

She gave another heavy sigh. “Okay… okay. I think you need to know. It’s going to be much easier to explain in person. Are you able to get on a flight to my house tonight?”

She wasn’t expecting that. She didn’t care where she lived, she would go. Half out of curiosity to meet the woman, and half for the mystery. “Of course. I can fly from London or Birmingham.”

“Okay, if you head back to Birmingham today, I’ll have my assistant send you flight details for a flight out of Birmingham tonight. You can stay with me a few days. This will be good to fully discuss our future plans together and lay bare my hand. I have to go into a meeting now, but I’ll see you tonight, YFN. Great work again!”

The call ended after their goodbyes and it just left YFN even more curious. She truly didn’t know the woman, and the next few days would certainly be interesting to say the least.

“Lucia.” The teasing voice came from behind.

Lucy turned around as Alexia wandered over to her at the stretching station.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Because I think your London trip went well, si?” Alexia held that teasing expression. She wasn’t wrong. Besides the long day and minimal sleep, she had been in the best mood she had been for days. Alexia stepped forwards and slapped her face lightly like a proud adult. “The grin is back.”

Lucy tried to get rid of it, but she just couldn’t. If anything, it got wider.

“Thank you for your help, I definitely feel a lot better.”

Alexia tilted her head, giving her a cheeky look that seemed to assume sex had made her this happy. Lucy rolled her eyes at that. They’d definitely gotten a lot closer in the past few days, having supported each other through their relationship issues. “It’s not what you think.”

Alexia’s expression said she didn’t believe her one bit. Her head stayed tilted, her expression cheeky and knowing, and her lips remained a more subtle version of the Cheshire cat.

Lucy laughed and shoved her lightly. “I promise! We just talked and sorted everything out.”

“You feel better?”

“Oh, yes. You get to meet her in six days when she comes to Barca.”

“I look forward to meeting her..”

It made Lucy happy to see Alexia smiling. “And how goes your woman?”

Her smile faltered a little. “We have training-”

“Don’t you back out now. You had a plan.”

“Si, si. But we need to train and the game is Saturday.”

“Saturday afternoon.” Lucy clarified. “So there’s no reason you can’t go on Friday night..”

Alexia thought on it for a few seconds.

“Alexia, Lucy!” Jonatan reminded, pointing to the mats.

They took the hint and began stretching themselves out, both starting with their bad knees. Lucy’s felt much better after YFN had massaged it the night before, and she swear she could have come just from the release of pressure and feel of her hands on her. If only they’d wandered further up-

She caught herself and made herself stop. She was at training. She looked at Alexia who was now rolling her calf and thinking still.

“Would you like me to come?”

Alexia turned to Lucy, surprised. They didn’t usually do things together like that unless they were in a group, but perhaps it was time for that to change.

“Okay,” she said after another few seconds of thought.

“We won’t get drunk or do anything stupid. We’ll just go and have a chat and dinner and see if she turns up.”

“She…might not.”

“And that’s more than okay. We’ll have a good little date out, regardless, yeah?”

“Okay, Lucia. But only if you tell your girlfriend so she doesn’t break her phone if she sees photos.”

Lucy gave a sheepish smile. “She’s a lot better with her emotions than I am.”

“She sounds perfect for you.”

“Are we talking about YFN?” Kiera asked as she walked over and joined in.

“Si.”

“I haven’t met her yet, but Leah says they’re pretty adorable together.”

“I’m right here.” Lucy reminded.

“I know.” Kiera said, giving a little head pat. “But it’s more fun to talk over you.”

Lucy appreciated their relationship and how there wasn’t any jealously, they truly did want the best for each other.

“Are we meeting her this weekend?”

“Who are we meeting this weekend?” Mapi asked as she and Ona joined their ever-extending stretching line. Lucy looked at Ona who seemed curious at their conversation. She hadn’t had the opportunity to talk to her yet as she had arrived late, but she would. She made sure to give her a little smile, knowing it wouldn’t make up for how distant she’d been the past few days.

“Lucy’s girlfriend.”

Ona pouted. She wasn’t unaware of her because she must have seen Lucy’s posts on Instagram, but she still couldn’t help the look of disappointment on her face.

“She’s coming this weekend?” Mapi asked, completely unaware of Ona’s feelings next to her.

“Si,” Alexia said, sharing a look with Lucy that said she’d also noted Ona’s expression. Alexia changed the topic back to their strategies and training, a smart Captain manoeuvre around the previous topic.

YFN received her flight details not long after she’d finished her breakfast. Joe was definitely efficient. She was originally worried at her late flight time, 7pm, until she realised where it was to. Edinburgh. If she’d driven, it would have taken her over eight hours, so she appreciated the flight. Realising she had time to spare, she took her time to shower and pack up before messaging a few fellow Aussies about popping by.

Caitlin: See you soon, chicken! Warning: Kyra seems eager to see you. She’s in her annoying mood.

Erin Cuthbert: All good to pop by, bring snacks and Emma will fall in love with you.

Mackenzie: See you soon, I’ll let the girls know.

Caitlin had introduced YFN to Mackenzie Arnold, Captain of West Ham and goalkeeper of both West Ham and the Matildas during their dinner, and she hadn’t had a chance to see her play during the round so she figured she’d stop by to network and become more of a regular around the players.

She stopped by Chelsea first located south west of London at Cobham as it was the closest. Erin was right, Emma did appreciate the snacks, though she had to sneak some to the players when she wasn’t looking. She had a good catch up with the players and before that, she actually had a fantastic conversation with Emma Hayes. Emma was the manager for Chelsea, notorious for being hard, yet caring for her team. She was one of the best managers in the sport and had led the team to four consecutive WSL victories. When she spoke, it was slow but so excellently worded that everybody stopped to listen, including YFN even as they were alone on the sidelines.

“What you’re doing is so important for these players.” Her accent was rich and unapologetic. “I can’t say I’ve met Joe but I’ve heard of her, and she’s going to be the best thing to happen to this sport in a long time. If she’s chosen you to lead the way, then I know you must be excellent at what you do.”

YFN took the compliment with a smile. They’d been standing on the sidelines, Emma pointing out how they trained and worked strategies and weaknesses. It was all so interesting to her, and she assumed that Emma had appreciated her interest and questions from the compliment she’d just given her.

“I appreciate that, thank you Emma. You don’t think my lack of knowledge in the sport is a weakness?”

“Nah, not at all. I think that’s one of the reasons she chose you. You bring a new perspective. I saw the interviews you did with the other teams, Arsenal, United and such. They were a breath of fresh air to be fair. I’m sick of arguing with media.”

YFN chuckled. “Are they that bad?”

“Oh, sure. And just asking stuuupid fucking questions.”

Emma yelled advice at one of the players across the pitch who put their hand up in acknowledgement.

They spoke for a bit longer, really getting into some deep-seeded issues with media, and needed improvements for the womens game when one of the assistant coaches blew the whistle. Training break. Somehow, Emma had been so inspired by their conversation that she suggested YFN talk to the girls before they had a debrief. She obliged.

YFN had met most of the girls: Millie Bright, Erin Cuthbert, Hannah Hampton, Zecira Musovic, Jess Carter, Niamh Charles, Fran Kirby, Jess Fleming, the list goes on. She was actually quite surprised to see that she only hadn’t met a few of them. Emma gave her a lovely introduction and YFN made herself comfortable on a stool up the front as she dove into a conversation with the group about media and how to make them more comfortable. They had a lot of suggestions, even Emma looking impressed at their eagerness. They spoke for a good half an hour before YFN wrapped it up before it turned into too much banter and ate into Emma’s time. She’d written a lot of notes down and made sure to tell them to message her or come over for a chat at a game anytime.

With that, she took her leave for West Ham over at Chadwell Heath by 11am. Mackenzie was the first to greet her as they were on their lunch break. She was much taller than YFN who had to reach to the sky just to hug her, but she bent down for her.

“I’m used to it with this one!” She’d said, pointing to Kirsty Smith, her partner. Kirsty was Scottish and they’d been dating for over two years. Mackenzie had that sarcastic, Australian sense of humour YFN missed, though she was so soft around Kirsty. It made her think of Lucy.

They let her join for lunch, introducing her to the staff and players. YFN made sure to say hello to their manager, Rehanne Skinner for Emma just as she’d requested. There were only a handful of female managers in WSL, Emma had pointed out, and they supported each other. She also mentioned that Rehanne was a great manager, which was a big compliment from her.

The West Ham team seemed a lot more relaxed than the Chelsea environment, all with their own ambitions and goals. She was introduced around, having a good chat to the team and enjoying her catch up with the young Riko Ueki again who seemed excited to see her. Her most entertaining conversation, however, was with Hawa Cissoko who was a strong French and Malian defender, and notorious for her red cards. She was very vocal about racial abuse and asked YFN to bring awareness to it when possible.

YFN loved the dynamic of the West Ham team, there was such a mix of different nationalities and personalities and she especially appreciated Mackenzie and how she took care of them like a mother bird, especially the shyer players like Riko who was introverted and still a little shy speaking English at times. After joining them for their Subway lunch, and talking around the group for just over an hour, she was off to her final stop.

Her Arsenal girls were at the end of their training day, definitely slowing down and ready for the day to end. Kyra, however, was as young and eager as ever, especially when she saw YFN. Jonas drove YFN down to the field in a golf cart, dropping her off and she barely exited the vehicle when the young midfielder landed on her back, limbs wrapped around her like a spider. YFN was only small and barely managed to stay upright.

“I was told you’re in an annoying mood.”

“That’s rude.”

YFN laughed and hugged the limbs around her. “How are you, little sis?”

“Great! Can I ask you a favour before the girls get here?” She asked into her ear, her chin resting on her shoulder.

“Sure, mate.”

“At the game this weekend…can you ask for Courtney and I to be interviewed together?”

YFN paused. She hadn’t even thought about interviews yet.

She continued. “I don’t care if it’s in a group of us.”

“I can do just you two alone..” She offered. Thinking about it, it would be good to do a young player interview, and then a similar one with older players like Kim Little and Aileen Whelan.

“Can you?!” She squeaked and dropped off of her back as Katie jabbed her in the ribs.

“Chicken!” She was enveloped by the girls.

“Ew, you smell like Chelsea mate.” Caitlin said, scrunching up her nose fakely. YFN rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, mate.”

“We’re pretty much done with trainin’ today,” Katie said as she swung an arm over her shoulder and pulled her along as they began walking back towards the building. “I spoke to Kim and the girls are all keen for a chat.”

Although she didn’t have a favourite team, it was becoming more and more difficult not to as Arsenal had a lot of her heart. The players were all so free to be themselves, and she knew a lot of that was due to Kim and Katie who were the leadership within the team. They made sure it was a safe space and everyone could not only work hard but have fun also. Her chats with the group was more like a night out at town and she had to steer the conversation back to relevance a few more times than with the other teams that day. They all got along well, yet they all also had their little clicks that overlapped a lot. Beth and Viv. Beth, Jen and Steph. Katie and Caitlin. Caitlin, Steph and Kyra. Kyra and Alessia. Alessia and Katie. Alessia and Vic. She was caught unawares by Leah also being there, though she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. Leah was already back up and running with the team, just not training fully yet. When she saw YFN, she came over for a polite hug and a few pleasantries. YFN could see she wanted to talk about Jordan, but they were too swamped by the eager girls wanting to talk to YFN about interviews, photos and such. She gave her an apologetic smile and made her way around the group for a few hours, or to be more precise, she sat in the same spot as the girls rotated through.

By 2pm she called it, saying goodbye to the team and collecting more than a few hugs on her way out. Her favourite though was the little head taps by Steph.

YFN was loading her work bag into the car when she heard a voice behind her.

“Do you think she’d be mad if I stopped by tonight?”

She turned around to see Leah looking like she needed some advice. “Do you two not have a day to catch up organised?”

“This Friday..”

YFN understood all too well why she didn’t want to wait any longer. “Leah… talk to her. Just talk. If Friday is too far away, then ask her for something sooner.”

“I don’t want to push her. Besides, you can be mediator tonight? That will ease tension a little.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re asking me. Well… I’m not sure if she’d be mad, however I won’t be there tonight.”

“Oh! Spain already?”

“No, Lucy was here last night. Edinburgh actually.”

Leah’s eyebrows shot up. “Lucy was here last night?!”

“Just for a few hours.”

“That’s why you look so happy.” She smirked.

“Don’t do that.” She laughed. “We just had a few things to sort out, as you know.”

“All sorted?”

She nodded. “Better than ever. I’m going to Barca on Friday.”

“What time are you flying out tonight?”

“7pm?”

“Okay… okay I can wait until Friday. I don’t want to mess this up.”

YFN gave her a supportive hug. “You won’t, Leah.”

YFN’S bag was packed for a few days, the peace lily Lucy had gifted her was watered, she’d cuddled with Blu and was just sitting down to an early dinner with Jordan as there came a knock at the door. They looked at each other confused. YFN shrugged and got up. She checked through the peep hole and sighed before opening the door.

“Turns out I can’t wait until Friday…” Leah said apologetically, a bouquet of flowers in her hand.

YFN bit her lip, thinking, and then stepped to the side. She wondered what Jordan’s reaction would be. Leah stepped in slowly and YFN closed the door behind her, leading her to the dining table.

“Who was it?” Jordan asked and turned around, freezing on the spot. Her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected that. Leah stood awkwardly with the flowers and YFN wanted to disappear.

“Uh…” Jordan struggled to find words.

YFN tried to break the tension. “Do you like ravioli, Leah?”

Leah nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay…I’ll get you a bowl.” She looked at Jordan and gestured to Leah as if to say ‘be nice’.

“They’re pretty.” Jordan said.

“They’re for you.”

Jordan stood and YFN watched as she walked over and took them from Leah, their fingers softly grazing over each other. Both reacted physically to it. “I’ll put them in water. Take a seat.”

Leah sat down as Jordan went to the kitchen to find a vase. “What’s she doing here?!”

“I don’t know.” YFN whispered back. “She said she couldn’t wait until Friday, remember?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

YFN looked at the clock. “We need to go in thirty minutes, can we just talk about football, then you two can do all the talking you want without me.”

Dinner was mainly talking about their days, and YFN’s experiences around the different clubs. It started off awkward, but definitely became a lot more casual. Like roommates having dinner. YFN didn’t realise, but Jordan appreciated her there for the awkward part. Now when she dropped her at the airport, they would have avoided most of that.

Leah helped Jordan clean up, working together at the sink to wash and dry as YFN collected her belongings for the airport. The car ride was funny, Leah in the back listening silently to Jordan telling YFN to be safe and message her if she needed anything. Jordan had been extra protective since hearing about Mark and his friend, as well as Kristie being a maniac as per usual. Leah hadn’t seen that side to Jordan much, and she listened with interest. They dropped her at the airport and YFN gave Jordan and apologetic look before she hugged her, whispering in her ear.

“She loves you, Dory. Just be patient and be honest with what you need, okay? I’m a phone call away.”

Jordan’s hug tightened, nodding into her shoulder.

“Also, if she doesn’t sleep in your bed, she’s more than welcome to sleep in mine.”

Jordan scoffed and pulled away with a grin, slapping her arm.

“What? You have needs.”

She turned to Leah and gave her a hug and Jordan jumped back into the drivers seat. “She’s just as nervous as you are, Leah. Communicate, okay?”

“Thanks, YFN. Fly safe.”

“You’re welcome. And I’ll definitely try.”

The flight was short, barely an hour, and unfortunately it was too dark to see Edinburgh as they descended through the clouds. YFN hadn’t known what to expect once she arrived, the only note in her flight details being ‘private car hire to meet at airport.’ She exited with her smaller carry-on suitcase and immediately saw the sign with her name on it. The driver looked professional in his suit and insisted on taking her luggage. He introduced himself as David and was a polite, middle-aged gentleman who guided her into the backseat of the dark Mercedes before taking his place in the driver’s seat.

“How long is the drive?”

“Just over an hour, ma’am.”

An hour?!

“Do you know Joe?”

“I do. I’ve worked with her for quite a few years now.”

“How would you describe her?”

“She’s a smart businesswoman. A great mother. A role-model. A creative genius. She’s kind and very well read.”

“Did she…tell you anything about me?”

“Oh, I know all about you, ma’am. It’s wonderful what you are doing together. My daughters are still young and love playing football. We need this exposure, so they have a better pathway and more incentive.”

He knew all about her? What they were doing?

“Do you know why I’m here?”

David paused. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Is there anything you can tell me before we get there?”

“That’s really not for me to say, ma’am. It will all make sense when we arrive.”

What was this big secret?

They spoke a little more during the drive, YFN a little tired as they passed the 9pm mark. Eventually they turned off of the bitumen road and onto a long gravel driveway. She watched as a large estate came into view, still very much lit up, the warm lights escaping through the many windows of the large stone building. If she had to describe it, she’d say it was almost gothic, though repurposed to suit an English ambiance.

David stopped at the front of the steps leading up to the entrance. He insisted that YFN go ahead, claiming he’d take her bag to her room for her.

She walked up the steps, not knowing what she was getting herself into and as she raised her hand to knock, the door swung open. A man stood there, looking just as neat and tidy as David.

“YFN, lovely to meet you. Welcome. My name is Benjamin, and I’m the estate manager. Please come in.”

YFN smiled and introduced herself, entering and found her eyes were immediately wandering, looking up down, all around at the architecture of the place. Although an old building, it had modern refurbishments and she couldn't help but appreciate it, but also wonder at its cost. Where was she? Did Joe have some sort of link to royalty? Nothing else made sense. Until it did.

“You made it.” YFN turned to the voice she’d heard several times on the phone and whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t that. Her mouth physically dropped.

It all made sense now. The company. The secrecy. The controversy. The fact that they’d never met before. Why she’d hired her, a writer, in the first place, of all people.

Holy shit. It can’t be.

[wildgeese98]

I'm sorry but at this point how can anyone honestly think "Chester" is trying to warn Sam away from the Magnus Institute? The red canary case did seen like a warning on a surface level but it was also the thing that got him looking into the institute in the first place. I think someone or something knew enough about Sam to know he would immediately start looking into the Magnus Institute if it just happened to come up on his first day working in the creepy story mines.

It also, for the record, knew enough about Gwen to send her exactly the piece of info she needed so go after Lena. And knew enough about Lena to send the exact thing that would get her to promote Gwen.

It knew Colin was the only person who knew they are being listened to. It knew enough about Colin to know that he was the one person who might know enough about the program to pose a threat. And it knew how to push his buttons to drive him to the point where he would be forced to leave.

It even seemed to know which voice would unnerve Celia the most. And possibly gave a statement connected to her background/ origins in this universe. This probably made her more open to looking into things with Sam, further egging on his search.

Something is continuing to feed Sam tidbits about the Institute. It's stringing him along and pulling him in. When he was ready to give it up, here comes "Chester" unprompted with a new Magnus institute related case. And now guess who's GOING TO THE DAMN BURNED DOWN RUINS!? these are not warnings, they are deliberate bread crumbs leading Sam exactly where someone wants him to be.

Meanwhile everyone else is being fucked with to some degree, with the exception of Alice. Although her "I do not see it" powers might make her immune.

None of this is an accident! Strings are being pulled! We just don't know why or by who. Are the Archives Boys really in the computer and trying to lead Sam to the Institute for some unknown reason? Is there perhaps some other, possibly malevolent force that's stolen their voices and memories and is using them to draw Sam in for its own unsavory purposes? Only time will tell!

All I know is, the only one trying to warn Sam about anything is Alice and he has for the most part not been listening.

[narrans]

A Small and Tall Collection | Chapter Twelve | Recovery and Discovery

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Chapter Twelve | Recovery and Discovery

There were few times a Borrower could sleep deeply without a care in the world. It wasn’t when they were children, because the fear of being caught by a human while asleep was a true waking nightmare. Like a crouching cat in the bushes waiting to ambush any and all unsuspecting prey, children rarely slept deeply once told about the world beyond the walls. It also wasn’t as an adult or after a big borrowing mission. It wasn’t in their older years and memory was fleeting as an infant.

There was too much in the world to be aware of. There were too many things to be apprehensive of.

Deep sleep was almost never an option, but it was a welcome one if the opportunity arose.

Now, thankfully, was one of those times. It could’ve been days and Ashlynn wouldn’t have known the difference. The Borrower woman opened her eyes and, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she didn’t feel the sting of tiredness tugging at her lids. She stretched, careful with her injured arm, and stared up at the ceiling that towered high above her. It was still alarming, heart fluttering with what felt like air, but the interaction earlier with Soren and his two sons made her feel mildly at ease.

It was a weird sensation.

She still didn’t trust the boys implicitly, but at least there was some silent reassurance that she fell under the protection of Soren. Ashlynn closed her eyes, an image of Soren forming in her mind. A smile. His voice. Those eyes.

She swallowed and shook her head, and the image along with it.

Weird…

What else was weird was she didn’t wince when she swallowed. She reached up and felt along her jaw, noticing how it didn’t feel as swollen anymore. Palm to her head, it was cool to the touch, and the tingling of her bones and skin had also stopped.

Wow… that medicine really did the trick. I feel… great.

Ashlynn sat up and almost instantly regretted it when her vision swirled, and the sudden pang as her arm twinged reminded the Borrower she wasn’t completely up to snuff. Leagues better, but not recovered. There were still things she could do to help her heal, and a light rumble from her insides told her where to start.

Thankfully, Soren didn’t move the tray from earlier and the food was still where she left it. It took a moment to stand shakily on her feet on the uneven surface of the comforter. Each step gave in different ways, keeping the Borrower on her toes which, thankfully, she was feeling steadier on.

She sat near some of the bowls she was by earlier and decided to continue eating the soup and bread, seeing as that and the medicine were helping her kick the sickness in record time. She’d just managed to fill the bowl and mop up the sides with a spare piece of bread when she heard the signature *tap* *tap* *tap* on the frame of the door. Instinct took over as the Borrower’s eyes shot up toward the door.

“Sorry.” It was Soren, an apologetic look filling those golden, hazel eyes of his. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just came to see if you needed anything. Well, that and my pillows. I stopped by a few hours ago, but you were knocked out and it felt rude to come in when you were asleep.” Ashlynn’s mouth felt like it was suddenly filled with cotton.

He was by earlier? And I didn’t wake up?! I must’ve been sleeping super deep then. At least he didn’t come in. That was really… sweet.

“Are you hungry? I could heat something up for you, or heat what you currently have. The boys and I already ate and were actually getting ready for bed. So, if you needed anything, I could go ahead and get it for you.” Soren’s thoughtfulness made Ashlynn’s cheeks warm, and she looked away bashfully as she thought about his question.

Then, she nodded.

“Okay, good. Um… do you want me to heat up what we had? Or just heat up some more soup? Wait… nodding. So, yes or no to the first?” asked Soren. Ashlynn shook her head. Her mind was made up on the so-called “magic broth” Soren had already made. His smile tugged at the corner of his lips playfully as he nodded. “So shall it be.”

In no time, Soren had returned with a fresh cup of soup and warm bread which he set on the tray after Ashlynn gave a cautious nod for him to approach. The steam rolled off of the top, and with it the pleasant scents of everything Ashlynn thought a home should be. She smiled and breathed deeply, realizing only now that she had her sense of smell back.

“You like that?” Soren asked. The Borrower nodded, flashing a smile up at him as she inhaled deeply again. “I can tell, and I can tell you’re feeling better too. You haven’t had a coughing fit once.” He was right. The sickness had finally met its match, and all thanks to a human.

Ironic. Expecting a human to be the source of my problems and here he is solving them.

“Well, I won’t keep you. Is there anything else bugging you? Need anything else before I go?” asked Soren. There was something, but how to communicate it was the trick. Ashlynn’s shoulder was still stiff and tender. If she wanted to leave, she needed it to be on the mend. She looked up sheepishly as she reached up and touched her slung arm. Soren’s keen eyes picked up the motion and understood instantly.

“Still hurting? Like a twinge or an ache plus stiffness? Or all of the above?” asked Soren. The Borrower woman nodded. The hope that she didn’t need to be grabbed or held to solve the problem was in the forefront of her mind, but if it would get her home sooner then it didn’t matter.

Soren will be gentle. If he needs to grab my arm, he’ll be careful.

“Alrighty then. Easy enough. You’re probably just feeling the tenderness of it being relocated. Is it numb or tingly still?” Ashlynn shook her head. “Good. That would be less than ideal. Um… okay. So, you’ll need to do some exercises and stretches to get it fixed completely. I’ll demonstrate on myself and then you imitate the motion.”

Soren began explaining a few of the baseline exercises that she could do to help stretch her twinging muscles. Rolling her shoulder gently. Slow arm extensions. Arm rotations. Shoulder shrugs. Anything for her to start getting rid of the tenseness in her muscles. He showed each motion clearly and made sure Ashlynn could do it and adjusted as necessary before moving on.

At some point, Ashlynn caught herself smiling as Soren continued to speak to her. There was just something soothing about his voice, like warm tea and honey which Ashlynn had only had a few times in her life.

“Also, don’t try and do too much all at once. I’ll venture a guess that you’re eager to get out of here, but rushing your recovery can do more damage to your shoulder. So, several smaller sessions would be better for you. Sound good?” suggested Soren. It felt reluctant, but Ashlynn forced a nod. He was right. She did want to get out of here as fast as possible. Being out in this massive room and unable to take care of herself entirely was a belittling experience. At least she wasn’t being treated like a child. Soren was good about that.

“Good. Then, if it’s okay, I’m going to snag my pillows and head out to the couch.” Couch? Isn’t this his bed? Wait… is he… Her confusion must have been evident on her face because Soren chuckled, hands placed on his hips while his head bobbed up and down. “Yes, technically that’s my bed, but it’s being used for something better than just sleeping. Kind of its own rehab center. Anyway, don’t worry about it. Worry about getting better and resting up. Do… you want to take more medicine? Feeling feverish or icky still?”

It was a lot to process. Which question to ever start with. As the Borrower went down the list of questions, she ended up with the same answer for all of them, and so she nodded. In no time, Soren was back with another small cup of that dark, minty teal liquid from before and some fresh water. He snagged his pillows before stepping up to the door and glancing over his shoulder.

“Need anything else?” he asked. How could I possibly need anything else? You’ve already thought of everything, and you’ve been so kind. I… I can’t begin to thank you. A strong part of Ashlynn wanted to tell him that, but that Borrower instinct choked out her voice. She wanted to thank him, but she only could muster a smile as she shook her head.

“Alrighty then. Goodnight little miss.” With that, Ashlynn was left once again alone in Soren’s room.

Is this a dream? Some weird fever dream from a nightmare? This shouldn’t be happening. I should be in a cage. I should be taped to a wall or locked in a box. I’m in a room – a human’s room – all to myself. I have food and a bed. This shouldn’t be happening. What makes Soren and his boys so different? Have they come across Borrowers before? Or… rather… has Soren?

Ashlynn sipped on the broth and chewed on the pieces of bread thoughtfully as she reflected on the past day. She was still uneasy. Nothing was likely to ever change that fact. This place was too big. Humans had no right to be as big as they were.

At the same time, were they so different?

Head. Hands. Heart. Dreams.

Humans had less to worry about, sure, but everything else was so similar.

Ashlynn finished her meal, eating until content, and once again curled up onto the bed with her back to the drawer. The medicine was already kicking in, making her head feel fuzzy and her eyes tired, even after sleeping for hours not long ago. Perhaps it was the medicine or the flurry of recent events, but Ashlynn found herself thinking about Soren. How nice his voice was. How kind he’d been. Those golden hazel eyes.

She felt her cheeks blush as her last thought entered her mind.

Too bad he isn’t a Borrower.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Time when sick is a funny thing. It drags on for an eternity, each passing second taunting the next, especially when there’s nothing to do.

This was not the case for Ashlynn.

The past two weeks had practically vaporized right before her eyes. She’d spent a fair amount of time sleeping, and she even spent time making a new set of clothes for herself seeing that the others had been mildly soiled by sweat and sickness.

She’d also taken time to make sure her arm was on the mend. The exercises were working wonders. Each day felt like an immense step forward. Ashlynn had even dared to do some test climbs from the top of the bed into the drawer, which Soren hadn’t removed in case she wanted a place to hide behind.

The tests had gone better than expected. Her arm was still tender, but she could place weight on it now without doubling over in agony. If she didn’t move too fast and wasn’t active for too long, she was fine. It felt thrilling, like her first borrowing mission. The thrill of her progress was overshadowed only by one thing – the prospect of leaving.

Ashlynn had to admit that, in some weird way, she was a bit sad that she was recovering as quickly as she was. Sure, the food helped, and never before had she slept so well, but it was leaving the boys that felt disheartening.

Their interactions were limited. Ashlynn made sure of that much. Still, Soren coming in and making sure she was okay felt good. She’d even permitted the boys to come in and say hello on multiple occasions. The youngest was probably her favorite of the two, and it wasn’t because of the gift he’d made for her, which was a kind of multi-tool rod that was lightweight like a walking stick with a fishhook super glued on one side for grabbing and a wedge on the other to hold a line. It was because of his questioning style.

He asked the most random, non-specific questions to Borrowers that she’d ever heard before. It was amusing to say the least. Weird things like whether or not she would want to be a dinosaur, which he explained to her in great detail, or if she liked different food because it was easier to chew since she was so small.

Dorian asked more direct questions, like if she liked climbing and how fast she thought she could climb different pieces of furniture. Other questions were concerned with where she liked to go and if she liked music. The questions were innocent enough, so that wasn’t it. It might have been because Dorian unintentionally caused her injury in the first place, but Ashlynn found herself a little more on-guard with the older of the two children.

What usually ended up happening was she spent time listening to the two boys. During the day, they went to a place called school and, when they returned, they wanted to tell Ashlynn all about the different things they learned and if she knew this or that. They held up maps and papers with scribbles all over them as they went on and on about the things they were being taught. It was adorable, especially when they tried to explain something that Ashlynn had no concept of.

At the end of the day, the Borrower woman decided these two kids were alright. Sometimes careless when they were excited, but alright all the same.

She also decided something else too, and that it was time to leave. She’d already spent too much time out in the open already.

Her arm felt almost completely healed, and her sickness had finally subsided a few days ago with not even a sneeze or a sniffle in sight. She’d have to take it easy with her climbing and borrowing activities, but deep-down Ashlynn felt like she could once again manage her life.

It was time.

She was hoping to be in and out of the drawer quickly to retrieve her belongings, but through a series of bad throws and needing a few resting periods it took longer than expected. She’d just managed to hoist her leg up on top of the drawer when she heard the all too familiar sound of the *tap* *tap* *tap* on the door.

Her heart skipped a beat, anxious worry nearly causing her to fumble and fall back onto the bed, before looking over and seeing Soren’s familiar face peeking through the crack. She wasn’t sure why, but guilt welled up in her throat. Her plan was to simply wait until night and the climb down the covers and onto the floor.

Seeing Soren, however, made her question her actions.

Was she really going to leave? Especially without saying goodbye? After all he and his sons had done for her?

Shoot. I… I can’t do that… not to him. Ashlynn sighed and jumped down from the edge of the drawer, glancing between Soren and her belongings at her feet.

The moment Soren spotted the small woman’s minute glance between him and the bag, he knew she was preparing to leave. She’d been on the mend and recovered from her dislocated arm in record time. If he was being honest, he was surprised she stayed as long as she did, and suddenly he felt his chest tighten ever so slightly.

“Hey there, little miss. Okay if I come in?” asked Soren. He watched as she shifted on the bed ever so slightly before nodding. He stepped into the room and walked slowly toward his dresser, which sat opposite of the side of the bed. It was involuntary, but Soren folded his arms and stared at the ground for a moment before bringing his eyes to look up at the miniscule woman. Her blue gray eyes were filled with confliction as she continued to glance between Soren and the bag at her feet.

“Leaving?”

It was all he needed to say for her shoulders to slump and her head to hang low. The sensation was a mixed bag to say the least. Soren could only imagine what was going through the woman’s mind as his own emotions swirled from one to the next. He was pleased that she was on the mend and well enough to be out on her own again, but in a weird way he was going to miss her too. Despite not saying anything, he really felt like he was just starting to get to know her.

Evidently, she seemed to be feeling the same. Otherwise, she would just walk out and not hang her head so low. Soren was about to dismiss himself when he watched her small hand come up and wipe at her eyes.

What is wrong with me?! Ashlynn scolded herself as she felt her eyes burning with tears. Why am I crying? Why do I feel so reluctant to leave? Is it the food? The bed? The… boys? Soren? The prospect of needing to move? What is wrong with me?

Ashlynn heard Soren inhale slowly, but sharply, as he spoke again.

“Hey, little miss, don’t be sad. You’ve no reason to be. You stayed because you were sick and now you’re better. You should be happy that you get to leave,” grinned Soren. Ashlynn bit her lip and nodded but couldn’t meet his gaze. She wasn’t sure if she could say goodbye to those eyes just yet.

“And, if you feel up to it or if you’re ever interested, you can pop back down or up, whatever it is, and come see us. You’re more than welcome to,” proposed Soren. The thought was a tempting one, and it was something that Ashlynn found herself considering. “The boys will be disappointed they didn’t get to say goodbye, but they’ll understand.”

Oh, shoot! Is this some kind of ploy to get me to stay longer? Curses!

“Do… you need help getting down? Or do you just want me to leave?” asked Soren. Ashlynn thought about the question, longer than what she would have. On the one hand, she didn’t want to reveal any of the secret places she had to get in and out of rooms. The Borrower didn’t think that any of them would set traps, but the instinct was still there to protect her people, even if she was the only one in the entire building. On the other hand, Ashlynn didn’t have a lot of good footing places on the covers, and they didn’t reach all the way to the ground. She’d have to make a drop fall, and she didn’t want to risk another injury when she was so close to leaving. Then again, did she want to leave?

Yes! Yes! Of course I want to leave! What kind of stupid question is that?!

But… maybe… a little help wouldn’t be bad? But that also means… being on his hand… Ashlynn shuddered before she glanced over at Soren and bit her lip, unsure of how to indicate everything she wanted with a single look. He’s been so careful… so gentle… If he can just get me to the kitchen counter, then I can go in that way without having to pry anything off of the walls and possibly leave another trace. And… would being held by him… be so bad?

“So, is that a yes?” prompted Soren. Ashlynn nodded, mind made up. “To me leaving?”

Soren’s eyes widened as she watched the small woman shake her head.

“N-no? You… want help down?” asked Soren. He’d refrained as much as possible from touching the miniscule woman, mainly due to his own apprehension of accidentally harming her in any capacity. The times they had made contact were absolutely necessary; that is, seemingly, until now.

His heart skipped a beat, stomach full of butterflies, as he watched her glance up at him and nod. It was completely unexpected. His mind started to race. He swallowed dryly, arms drawing in a bit tighter across his chest as he kept them folded. Clearing his throat, Soren bit his lower lip and nodded stiffly.

“Um… okay. Sure. Do… you just need help down? Or… -erm… do you have a place in mind that I should… bring you to?” Soren felt his voice crack ever so slightly as tension and nerves threatened to play with his vocal cords like a backwoods country banjo. “Right… yes or no. To the ground?”

Is… he nervous? Ashlynn wondered as she shook her head.

“No? You have a place in mind?” Soren’s heart was starting to race as fast as his thoughts as he watched the small woman nod. “And… you’re ready now?” He stared into the hand sized person’s blue gray eyes, a shiver running down the length of his spine, as she nodded again, albeit a bit more hesitantly than her other responses.

Soren wasn’t sure how he was supposed to do this. Pick her up? Let her step onto his hand? Cupped like a captive butterfly? Hang onto a finger? His first instinct was to let her step on, but would that be secure enough?

Might as well try.

Soren pushed himself off of the dresser, feet feeling heavy like lead bricks, as he unfolded his arms and laid his hand, palm up, onto the bed several inches from her.

What on earth am I doing?! Neither knew their thoughts aligned. Either could have shied away, and yet they didn’t.

Ashlynn stared at the calloused, gentle hand that had helped put her shoulder back into place, swallowed hard, and snagged her bag off of the bed before walking toward the outstretched fingers. Her heart hammered violently behind her ribs. Every instinct screamed to run away.

The Borrower forced her body to step up onto the human’s finger. It was soft and malleable like the comforter, giving with every step, but firm at the same time. Every ounce of focus was on not losing her balance or her mind as she wabbled across the notches of Soren’s fingers to his palm.

She only now realized she had been holding her breath as she crouched and placed her hand onto Soren’s thumb. She could clearly see and feel some of the ridges of his fingers as her hand rested against the appendage. It was almost imperceptible, but there was a tremor to Soren’s hand.

He’s just as nervous as me. Funny… he holds all the power and yet me being here makes him nervous.

Soren marveled at the small figure’s movements and the ease that she walked across his hand. It was hypnotizing the way she moved and crouched. Just her weight in his hand kept him motionless for fear of startling her. Even her eyes as she looked up at him expectantly was enough to keep him frozen in place.

“Um… er… ready? Just… uh… point. I’ll follow where you say to go,” Soren muttered. It was a vain attempt to disguise the tremor tugging at his voice. Ashlynn nodded and, just like that, Soren’s hand lifted from off of the bed and into the air. The dizzying height was mind numbing, the equivalent of a ten-story building or more, but it was natural for Ashlynn. Greater heights than these were in her arsenal of experiences.

It was her nerves that added to the experience, so it took a minute for her to realize Soren was looking down at her expectantly, waiting for her to give some kind of signal to direct him. She pointed toward the door, shaking her head so she’d phase out of her stupor. His fingers curled upward ever so slightly and she heard him inhale deeply before he began to move.

One step, and then the next, Ashlynn continued to point the way through the hallway, past the living room, and into the kitchen. The Borrower thought that being carried would be jostling and uneven, and maybe it was; however, Soren was taking an additional precaution and taking slow, even steps to not knock the small woman off balance.

When they made it to the kitchen, Ashlynn pointed to the counter by the bread box, and so Soren obliged, stepping up to it and setting down his hand, asking, “Is this okay?” before spreading his fingers out so they were no longer cupped. Ashlynn quickly disembarked, barely shaking an involuntary shudder, before turning around and facing Soren again.

“Well then. I guess that’s that. Do you need anything else before you go?” asked Soren. Ashlynn smiled and shook her head. She’d already helped herself to more than her fair share of the breakfast buffet Soren had made for her earlier. It was safely tucked away in her bag now, and she hoped it wouldn’t be rude that she took as much as she did.

“Okay then…” Soren sighed. “Well, it was nice getting to know you, for whatever that’s worth, and I wish you the best of luck in your adventures. Wish we could’ve learned more about each other, but that’s life, right? I don’t even know your name. Well… anyway… please be careful and, please, if you need anything, know you’re always welcome here. Take care, little miss.”

Soren flashed another smile as he turned to leave, and she did the same. She nearly had the electrical cover off of the wall when her mind flooded with intrusive thoughts. She turned back to see Soren was walking past the table and was almost around the corner to the living room.

That’s it? No requests? No demands? An invitation to return and the best of luck? And now he’s just leaving? He… he’s probably the only human who would do something like this. I… I can’t just…

“Soren!”

Ashlynn hadn’t even registered that she’d done it until his name flew from her mouth. Her voice sounded horribly unused, craggly as if it were full of dust, but it was enough to make Soren stop in his tracks, entire body rigid like a taut bow string, as he turned around to face her. His golden hazel eyes were wide with surprise, lips parted slightly in awe. He mouthed the word ‘you’, but nothing came out.

Good thing too. Ashlynn was quickly losing her nerve and, after two weeks, broke the last of the big three rules. She coughed nervously and watched Soren pivot slowly and dare to take a step back toward her.

Oh! Just finish it!

“I… just… thank you.” She had to raise her voice to nearly a shout, fearing she’d lose her will to continue or that Soren wouldn’t hear her. “Thank you… for what you did…”

The expression on Soren’s face shifted from curious to fascination to delight as his eyes sparkled with the smile on his face.

“A-and… it’s Ashlynn. My name… it’s… Ashlynn.”

Their eyes lingered, one locking onto the others’ unblinkingly. There was something else there in Soren’s eyes that Ashlynn couldn’t identify. Was it interest? Allure? Her cheeks immediately began to burn with increasing intensity the longer she held the human’s gaze.

That’s enough! Get back into the walls! Ashlynn chided as she spun on her heel and darted into the darkness of the walls, embracing the life she loved once more. Though she was already halfway up the line to her own home, she could still hear Soren echoing her name as if to brand it into his memory.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! Why did I do that?! What Borrower in their right mind would speak?! I was home free! I went the whole time without talking, and because I feel bad for the giant man I blurt out my name?! Idiot!

It took a couple of breaks, but Ashlynn finally managed to get to the ceiling tiles she called home. The place was barely lit from the lights she’d left on from before. A thin layer of dust coated her bed, which the Borrower was sure was still disgusting from when she was ill, and she found evidence of mice.

“Brilliant,” she mumbled before rolling up her sleeves and getting to work. It took the better part of a few hours to rid her home of all things nasty, disgusting, and spoiled before she finally had a chance to put away the food she’d “borrowed” from Soren’s breakfast buffet and flop down onto her bed.

As she laid there on her own mismatched comforter, she stared at the perfectly proportioned ceiling above her. It was here, in the quiet that she was so familiar with, that her thoughts began to swirl and pick at everything that had happened over the past few weeks, particularly her interaction with Soren on the countertop.

What on earth were you thinking? You were almost out and decided to say something to that human. That human who fed me, clothed me, and healed me. Don’t be ridiculous! His sons were the ones who put you in that situation in the first place. But not Soren. I don’t have a real reason to be upset with him. He’s a human! That’s reason enough.

A human who seemed sad that I was leaving. A human who had nothing to gain by helping me. A human who sounded like he was going to miss me…

Ashlynn paused at this thought. For so long, it felt like she had been on her own, and now an emptiness in her chest that she had forgotten she had was opened again. Maybe that’s what it was. Maybe that’s why she spoke up and talked to Soren. Maybe that’s what she would miss – someone missing her. Not the human, but the fact her absence meant something to someone else.

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and rolled over, hoping that was enough to jostle the thoughts rattling her and her mind.

Are you really okay with this? Having a human missing you? If that’s what it is at all?

The thing was… Ashlynn’s answer… was yes.

One thing was certain, and that was she needed to shed these feelings as fast as possible. Come the spring, she would need to consider moving and she needed to stay as far away from Soren and the two boys as possible.

Or… would she….

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

A Tall and Small Collection | Original Story

[futurecorps3]

𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬

Masterlist<3

Summary: YEARNING WITH A READER HES ABLE TO TOUCH. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Warnings: Mentions of Kaz's touch aversion, death, slight OOC Kaz but I think only if you squint like he's a softie with Y/N and Y/N only. Let me know if I missed any!!! Word Count: 2.3K Requested: I guess? @kaldurahms-lover

A/N: The user tagged posted a general request to us Kaz fic writers. The concept follows the line of how our boy would need TOUCH from an s/o who he has known from before JorDIE died. Bestie I hope you like it and you don't mind I used fem!reader (I can change it if it IS an issue). I haven't started and I'm already excited about this piece being posted!!! Mwah hope I did justice to the concept.

˚ · • . ° .

Kaz didn't really know what it was. Maybe it was the weather, too warm for Ketterdam, or the way he was sweating under his gloves. Maybe it was how loud Nina and Jesper were being, too tipsy to care for the volume of their laughs, or how the last job had gone well even when they didn't follow the plan he traced. Maybe he just missed her.

Who was he kidding? Of course he missed her. Y/N had been gone two weeks on a little trip to Novyi Zem to pick up a shipment and get information from financial records kept in one of the properties belonging to their next target. He really tried getting his seller to deliver directly to Ketterdam, but they said it would be too much trouble. Y/N, kind as always, convinced Kaz offered to do both tasks.

And he missed her. The others could tell. The grumpy mood the bastard carried himself with had been even grumpier in the last couple of days and they all knew well what was going on, but decided against prying because he'd never admit it. They couldn't really blame him. After all, his girl was the only one who seemed to melt that inaccessible boy.

They found each other in akin situations; lost kids in a new city, all on their own and with the foolish dream of making a life with nothing but honest intentions and a kind heart. The boy could still remember those pretty watery eyes looking up at his brother with fear, fear of him being another person ready to hurt her. Instead, he made a silent promise to himself to always protect her, to never let anyone hurt her again.

Little did that boy knew he could not keep that promise, not for her, not for himself. He thought fondly at that memory, though. An image close to his heart that made him wonder that maybe he wasn't such a horrible person. Blame it on the innate capacity of kids to feel empathy towards virtually any living thing.

When Jordie died, Kaz was ruined. He felt like he had lost a part of himself, and he didn't know how to go on without his brother. He was consumed by grief and anger, early in age, and pushed Y/N far away from him. But Y/N didn't give up on him.

She knew how much he was hurting, and she refused to let him suffer alone. She was patient with him, giving him the space he needed to grieve, but also letting him know that she was there for him whenever he was ready to talk.

One day, as they were walking through the streets of Ketterdam, Kaz finally opened up to Y/N. He told her everything he had been feeling since Jordie died, the anger, the guilt, and most importantly, the emptiness. And as he spoke, Y/N listened, never judging him, but always offering a kind word or a gentle touch. A touch that did not bother him in the slightest.

Her hands didn't make him feel sick like the ones from officers in the Stadwatch. He realized that he could bear it, and even better, savor it. As they sat in that alley all those years ago, sharing a piece of bread and a dream of a better life, Kaz knew that he had found something special in Y/N. He had found someone who understood him, who accepted him for who he was, and who believed in him even when he didn't believe in himself.

And he knew that he would never let her go. No matter what challenges they faced in the future, no matter how dark the world around them became, Kaz would always have Y/N by his side, just as she had always had his. Together, they would face anything that came their way, because that was what they had always done. They were lost kids in a new city, but they had found each other, and that was all that mattered.

With time, he saw Y/N under a new light. Kaz admired the girl for her capacity to take the best out of situations while remaining conscious of how awful things could get. Her tenderness and bliss seemed to come from a bottomless pit, while his had run dry a long time ago.

It's okay, she had enough to spare for the both of them. Feelings developed, conflict ensued, and after three years of the perilous path of love, they became official. Kaz wouldn't have it any other way and Saint's know Y/N wouldn't either. They loved each other like only two young kids in love could; raw, endlessly.

And that's why Y/N's letter saying she needed more time to collect information had the barrel's bastard all sulky. He needed her embrace, and he needed it now. The more he thought about it, the less probable it seemed for him to be able to hold on a few more days.

"You okay, boss?"

Now, Jesper knew the answer to his question, and he knew why Brekker wasn't doing okay, but he was no expert on how to handle these types of situations, and it seemed like the right thing to ask. As far as Kaz goes, well, he had no idea when the zemeni boy had left his place next to Nina to walk all the way to him. He was too busy thinking about her, as he had been for the past two weeks.

No response came from him. Then a sigh from Jesper. "She'll be back soon, she's okay, Kaz. Turn that terrifying frown into the normal one, you're scaring the piggeons more than we want to". The frustration he felt seemed almost unreasonable; he gave her the job knowing exactly the implications it entailed, so why was he so needy? There was patience in any action of his, but he couldn't control how much he wanted a kiss from his lover at the moment.

To some, it might be cute. To him, it was thoroughly infuriating. "Get a hold of yourself. She'll be back soon, no need to get all mad about something that only time will fix", he thought to himself over and over again in that hot afternoon as he laid on a white blowy blouse in his room trying to go to sleep so time would somehow be faster since burying himself in paperwork and plotting hadn't worked.

With a deep sigh, Kaz closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. He knew that he had to get a grip on himself and not let his emotions get the best of him. Y/N would be back soon enough, and until then, he would have to be patient and wait for her return. And so, he lay there, trying to calm his racing thoughts and steady his beating heart, until finally, he drifted off to sleep.

˚ · • . ° .

First thing he heard was a soft hum. A too familiar song coming from a sweet voice in the bathroom. Was he so out of control he was now dreaming of Y/N returning? What love does to a man... The sun prickling his skin felt too real, the sweat on his bare hands ran freshly, tickling him ever so slightly.

He sat up quickly, his heart pounding with excitement. Had she returned early from her trip? He got out of bed and walked towards the door carefully, his bare footsteps echoing delicately on the wooden floor. As he opened the door a bit wider, he saw her standing in front of the mirror. Y/N's eyes met his, hers sparkling with a well-known happiness.

"Hi" she dared to say. Saints! She had no idea what an agony it had been without her, right? Kaz felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of her. She looked radiant, with her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed from the heat outside. A long walk from the docks, surely. Had he been awake and aware of her early return, he would've walked her back to the Slat with an umbrella to shield both of them from the suffocating light.

"Hello" he mumbled, still a little dazed from sleep. Y/N smiled and stepped closer to him. "I missed you," she said simply, reaching out to take his hand. Kaz felt a surge of emotion wash over him, and he knew in that moment that she had missed him just as much. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him as he breathed in the scent of her hair. It was the same from before she left, just a little saltier.

For a moment, they just stood there, wrapped up in each other, savoring the feeling of being together once more.

Finally, Y/N pulled back and looked up at him, a soft smile on her lips. "I brought you something," she said, pulling away and shuffling through her bag before humming contently, pulling and holding out a small box.

Kaz took the package and opened it to reveal a delicate silver necklace, with a tiny crow charm dangling from it. He looked up at her, surprised and touched by the gesture. "Y-you don't have to wear it-" "It's beautiful," he said softly, handing it over to her as she carefully placed it around his neck with a content smile.

They both knew it would remain hidden under the various layers of clothing he wore on cooler days (or even the hotter ones such as this), but knowing it was there was enough.

"Looks pretty" Y/N beamed, tracing her fingers down his half-exposed chest and pulling him in for a hug from the waist. "I missed you so much," he confessed, feeling the commotion inside of him finally subside under her touch. "I missed you too much, never let me go away for that long again... no matter how stubborn I get".

Kaz felt his mouth turn up in a grin, almost letting out a giggle. "Never," He looked down at her briefly and found her looking at him already, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "don't think I could bear it".

As the heat of the afternoon persisted, Kaz and Y/N found themselves seeking refuge in the relative coolness of Kaz's bedroom. They lay on the bed together, cuddled up over the white sheets, with Kaz's arm wrapped tightly around Y/N's waist. Despite the warmth of the day, Kaz felt a chill run through him at the touch of Y/N's skin against his.

As they lay there, Kaz felt a sense of peace wash over him. He had spent so much of his life chasing after money and power, but now, in this moment, he realized that his number one priority was something much simpler: the warmth and love of the person he cared about most in the world.

Y/N shifted slightly in his arms, and Kaz tightened his grip on her. He could feel her breathing softly against his chest, and he knew that he would never tire of this feeling.

"I've been more... difficult than usual. Even Matthias got alarmed," he murmured, his voice low and husky laced with amusement. Y/N looked up at him, giggling, her eyes filled with love. "It's okay," she said softly. "I missed you too."

Kaz smiled, feeling a sense of contentment that he had never experienced before. He knew that his life would always be filled with danger and uncertainty, but as long as he had Y/N by his side, he knew that he would be able to face anything. Just like when they were kids.

They lay there for a long time, just holding each other, lost in their own thoughts. And as the afternoon turned to evening, they drifted off to sleep, safe and content in each other's arms.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:)

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

[irafuwas]

I went to bed last night fearful of poor Silver learning firsthand that his father wasn’t always the kindhearted and fun loving man that he so admires and adores, that he used to look at humans with apprehension and distrust, that he’d treat people like they were worth less than the scum stuck to the bottom of his boots. But now, I do want him to see all of these things. Because I want it to dawn upon him, finally, for the first time in his short 17 years of life, that he is the reason his father is the person he is today. That every facet and every feature, every perfect aspect of his father’s design that he worships, that he wishes he could trace his fingers over whisper-soft and record into the lines of his own skin, they were all sculpted and carved and molded by him.

Silver it was your love – your love as a baby, as a child, as the young man you’re rapidly growing into - that nearly drowned your father, and every time he broke through the surface and opened his mouth to gasp for air you dragged him back down again. The waves of your love, at times more tender than a mourning dove‘s call, at times fiercer than a thousand storms, sloughed off his skin and tore apart everything that was and would never again be “Lilia Vanrouge”. And at last, when the pale body of your father emerged from those waters and he collapsed onto the achingly warm shores that had all his life been just out of his reach, he had been reborn into something and someone entirely new. He was transformed.

On golden mornings, when you still lay asleep in the small cot next to his, your father would slip into town and pick up fresh bread from the baker for you. He’d choose the kind that would crinkle like the autumn leaves under your careful steps when he split the loaf in half. The sound always made you smile.

When your father had left for town on one of those mornings, he’d still believed in the notion that all the light in the world and that everything good and warm and safe came from the yellow sphere that hung in the sky far above. But when he came back, as you ran out to greet him and you came crashing through the wheat fields near your home and you laughed your iridescent laugh with bits and pieces of flaxen leaves clinging to your lunar hair, your father finally glimpsed the great truth that Nature had been obscuring from him all his life.