#like why have you stacked all the plastic bowls that are still covered in water droplets

[dashiellqvverty]

the thing about having roommates is like i cant even be mad because you DID empty the dishwasher and thats GREAT. but also YOU CANT CREATE AIRTIGHT SEALS ON DISHES THAT HAVENT DRIED YET PLEASEEEEE

[iamvegorott]

Happy Family Pt. 5 of 8

Another Dad In Need

“I still can’t believe she’d just drop them like that,” Bing sighed. “What reason could she have for this?” 

“Sometimes people don’t have a reason. Sometimes they just do it” Google handed Bing a wet, clean dish. “The brain is messy, and there are times it just does stuff that has no reason beyond it just does.” 

“‘Just does’ doesn’t excuse abandoning your children.” Bing took the dish and dried it off, adding it to a stack. He planned on putting them into the cupboards when they were all done. It was late in the evening, Etta was already in bed, and Bing and Google were getting some cleaning done before heading off to bed themselves.

“It doesn’t, but we’d be wasting our time and energy trying to find the why to it all.” Google rinsed off a bowl after scrubbing it and handed it over. 

“I hate that there are times there is no why or because or explanation to these things.” Bing took the bowl. “Why are people like that?”

“We’d never stop searching if we tried to figure that out.” Google chuckled before letting out a deep sigh. “But I do feel terrible for Chase. I struggled to care for one child, let alone a set of twins. I know they shared custody, so he’s had them plenty of times before, but now he has to do everything on his own by the sounds of it.” 

“We can offer our help,” Bing suggested, organizing his pile of dishes, picking up the now-done bowls, and putting them away. 

“Like what you did with me?” Google asked.

“Yep! Give him an extra hand, and make sure he’s taking care of himself. We both know he’s almost as bad as you are with forgetting that you have needs as well.” Bing giggled as he went back to get the plates while Google worked on scrubbing the silverware. 

Etta’s smaller spoons and forks always took some extra time since Google always worried about the plastic not being cleaned enough. Logically, he knew it was fine, but this little voice in his head told him to scrub more with anything plastic. There was a reason why he wasn’t allowed to help clean the toys in the daycare.

“Hopefully, he’s not as stubborn.” Google chuckled. “We can call him in the morning and see how he’s doing.” 

“I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” Bing softly smiled. “I can do that while you’re doing your little morning routine with Etta.” 

“Sounds perfect.” 

“Good, now move your ass, or these dishes are never getting done.” Bing teased, bumping Google away with his hip so he could get the plastic silverware out. 

“Hey, now.” Google laughed, flicking his hands and spraying some soap suds toward Bing.

“You’re too picky!” Bing squealed with a laugh, getting some bubbles and flicking them right back. 

“I am careful.” Google protested with a playful huff. 

“Picky,” Bing repeated, and it turned into a loud laugh when Google hugged him from behind. “You’re getting me wet!” 

“Whoops.” Google continued to dry his hands off on Bing. His hold was soft, so it was easy for Bing to turn around and face him. 

“And you call me the little shit?” Bing wrapped an arm around Google as the other went behind him. 

“I’m not wrong.” Google grinned, leaning in when Bing pulled him into a kiss. While distracting him with a kiss, Bing got himself a big handful of bubbles.

“True~” Bing giggled before taking his soap-covered hand and slapping the bubbles on Google’s neck. Google gasped in shock as Bing laughed at the face he saw him make. 

“You’re in for it now.” Google used his ‘stern daddy’ voice and grabbed Bing, throwing him over his shoulder. 

“Oh no, whatever shall I do?” Bing giggled, exaggerating his voice as he got carried away to the bedroom

x~x~x 

“Morning Chase, how are you doing?” Bing asked into his phone, watching Google head to Etta’s room. Saturday mornings usually had Etta up before Bing and Google, but she was good about staying in her room and playing with her toys while she waited for them, only stepping out to use the restroom or get some water. They had one of those fridges with a water dispenser, so she could fill her ‘cup of the night’ and go on her way. 

“Hey Bing…I’m-well-I’m trying to get the twins together to get their stuff from Stacy’s.” The worry in Chase’s voice was loud and clear. 

“Is she going to be there?” 

“No. Stacy said she didn’t want to be, and I only have an hour to get everything before she gets home.” After saying that, Chase’s voice was muffled, as if holding his phone to his chest, as he told Penny to put her shoes on. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get there as soon as possible. I don’t know how I’ll do it in an hour. But I’ll figure it out.”

“Me and Google can come over and help.” Bing offered. “One can watch the kids, and the other two can pack and carry things out.” 

“You guys don’t have to.” 

“We want to. I wouldn’t have called if we didn’t want to make sure you were all good. Text me the address. We’ll meet you there as soon as possible.” Bing smiled when he heard Chase let out a soft chuckle of relief. 

“I’ll pop it right over, thank you.” 

“Don’t thank us until we do something,” Bing said playfully. “We’ll see you.”

“See you,” Chase said and then hung up. 

“Googs, we’re heading over to Chase’s!” Bing called out as he hung up his phone as well. 

“What’s going on?” Google called back.

“We gonna see Pen and Luc?” Etta asked with a big squeal. 

“Chase is getting the twins’ things,” Bing explained, making his way to Etta’s room, seeing the two sitting on the ground together with paper and crayons.

“Already?”

“Are they moving?” Etta sounded worried. 

“They’re moving houses, but you’ll still see them at the daycare and school,” Google said as he stood up. 

“Me and you can play with Lucas and Penny while Chase and Daddy do all the hard work. How does that sound?” Bing offered while Google started getting some clothes out for Etta to get dressed into. 

“Of course, you’d volunteer to sit with the kids while I lift the heavy things.” Google teased, setting the clothes on the bed. 

“I can help lift. I’m very strong.” Etta flexed her ‘muscles’ with a proud puff of her chest. 

“Yes, you are.” Bing chuckled. “Now, let’s get ready, shall we?”

“Yeah!”

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[iamfruitie]

In Too Deep Chapter 16

Library Meal

Mare wasn’t able to return for a few days. When Phantom said it was a big job, he meant it in several meanings of the word. Being away from Mad left him feeling oddly…empty? He assumed that just meant he missed messing with the human since he’s had a long time since anyone’s caught his attention beyond a simple one-night maybe even a two-night fling. Mare’s, almost, forgotten about Mad mistaking him for his mother. And the ‘almost’ being him forcing himself to not think about it and pretend it didn’t happen. 

He popped himself into Mad’s lab with a grocery bag filled with water bottles and the straps were tucked in the crook of one arm and the other arm’s hand held a paper bag with some take-out for himself and Mad to eat together. Mare let out a little disappointed hum when Mad wasn’t in the lab, he really was expecting him to be in there since he’s been on his own for a bit and he came across as a severe workaholic.

“Hawk? Who’s in the house?” Mare called out before muttering. “And don’t sass me this time.” 

“In the lab is a Mare.” Mare grinned at finally having a name to Hawk. “In the master bedroom is Albert and in the main library is Madrick.” 

“Hawk, how to I get to the main library from the lab?”

“Heading straight out of the lab, you would turn right and head straight through the lobby and continue on until you see a pair of double doors on your left.”

“Thank you, Hawk!” Mare made his way in the direction he was given. 

“All kitchen equipment excluding the coffee machine has been unused today.” Hawk’s comment got Mare to pause and look up. Was Hawk calling Mad out for not eating today? 

“Um…thanks?” Mare wasn’t sure what to say and kept going, seeing the double doors that were mentioned. “Fancy.” He said to himself before opening one of the doors. “Holy…shit…” 

The library was one of dreams. Large, organized, and labeled. There were little signs with genres written in calligraphy hanging on the end of shelves and plenty of comfortable-looking furniture around. Chairs, couches, those weird long things that you’d lay on during therapy. It was…a lot.

“Did I just get sent to Beauty and the Beast or something?” Mare said to himself. “Does that make me the Beast?” He started looking around, actually getting lost. “Madsy~! Madsy where are you~!?” Mare knew he could find Mad on his own with his scent, but that always made his brain think he was hunting him down and he did not want that part of his brain going at that moment.

“Mare? I’m over here.” Mad called out. Mare quickly located where Mad was after hearing him and was next to Mad in a matter of seconds. 

“Hey, cutie.” Mare greeted. 

“Stop.” Mad didn’t look up at Mare yet, closing some thick books and stacking them together, all having a wide collection of sticky notes sticking out of them. 

“Did you miss me?” Mare walked over so he was in front of Mad and he saw down on the ground with him. Why have all the fancy furniture and choose to be on the floor Mare would never understand? 

“I did,” Mad answered honestly, still not looking and missing the little tint of red that got on Mare’s face. 

“I-” Mare cleared his throat. “I got you some food and water because Hawk called you the fuck out and said you haven’t eaten today.”

“I haven’t?” Mad hummed and finally looked at Mare. “I didn’t notice.” 

“You really are the definition of a brat.” Mare chuckled and pulled out one of the bottles of water and tossed it over to Mad. 

“I thought you said being ‘a brat’ was not doing what you are told?” Mad caught the bottle and opened it, now realizing that he was very thirsty. 

“It’s also common for brats to not drink their water or eat.” Mare opened up the paper bag and pulled out two containers from it. Paper bowls with clear plastic coverings that showed the meats, lettuce, tomatoes, rice, and several different sauces.

“It’s not that I’m refusing to, I just don’t notice when I’m working.” Mad started downing the bottle of water right after that. 

“Like I said, a brat.” Mare sat one of the containers in front of Mad, placing a plastic fork on top of it as well. 

“Then what does that make you? If I’m a brat and you’re bringing me food and water, does that make you the opposite of one? Does that have a term? Or is this part of the ‘top and bottom’ thing Phantom mentioned?” Mad rambled his questions as he opened the container and started stirring the food together with a fork. 

“Phan mentioned tops and bottoms to you? What did he say?” Mare opened his own container and started eating right away, not bothering with mixing it. He didn’t really need to eat a lot of food but knew if he didn’t eat, Mad may be hesitant. 

“Not a lot really, he was asking about Jackie and wanted to know if he was, and I quote, ‘like me or you in the bed’. I think I caught on to what he was talking about and in the context of the situation, I’d be classified as the bottom and you the top.” Mad casually stated and started eating after everything was coated properly with the sauces.

“You’re making sex sound boring again.” Mare chuckled. 

“Am I wrong?” Mad asked, face showing he was genuine. 

“No, you’re not. You’re correct about the top and bottom thing.” Mare chuckled again at seeing Mad looking proud and going back to his food. The two sat there and ate in peace, just enjoying each other’s company, and eventually finished up the food. Mare noticed Mad had a little sauce on the corner of his mouth. He licked his thumb and leaned over, wiping it off without a second thought. 

“Tha-” Mad tried to get his thanks out, but his voice got caught in his throat. It struck him at that moment that he had missed someone being so physically close to him. He had missed Mare which in turn had him missing his touches and Mad found himself staring down at Mare’s lips. 

“You okay…oh~” Mare saw where Mad was staring and he pushed the trash aside so he close get in closer. He pressed their lips together and pushed down on Mad’s chest, getting him to lay back on the ground. Mad immediately wrapped his arms around Mare’s neck and softly groaned into the kiss. Mare slid his hand down and then slipped it under Mad’s shirt, slowly starting to push it up. 

“S-Stop.” Mad stammered out and Mare immediately did, taking his hand back and pulling his head away.

“Everything okay?”

 “I-I haven’t showered yet today.” Mad explained with a red face. Mare let out a little sigh of relief, thinking he had hurt Mad or something. 

“Well, that’s something we can easily take care of~”

“We?” 

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

Tag List: (Feel free to ask to be added!)

@dungeon-dragons-dragons @justyoursicanon @angst-anonn @damnthedead

[novelconcepts]

novel, just look at this https://www.instagram.com/p/CMILP2ZAjsw/?igshid=1ve4cwcbiy69y

mayhaps you could use this as a prompt sometime? 👀 (no pressure)

The greatest injustice in the world, Owen Sharma thinks, is in how many women he’s buried. How many loved ones--why are brilliant young women always punished?--he’s laid to rest. How many times he’s looked away for only a second, only to find they’ve slipped through his fingers.

The greatest injustice in the world, Owen thinks, is in how many times he’s stood over the graves of women who should have had so much more time. Women with new recipes untested, new cities left unexplored, new experiences permanently unlived. Rebecca Jessel will never practice law. Hannah Grose will never see Paris. Dani Clayton will never...

Dani will never...

He’s never even there. Maybe that’s the worst part of all--that he’s always just off-camera, always just this side of where he ought to be. At home, when Rebecca drowned; at the manor when his mother passed; looking at his shoes while Hannah...

And now: now, with no warning at all, the phone ringing in the middle of the night. The voice on the other end is almost unrecognizably flat. The voice on the other end, he thinks, will haunt his dreams for years to come.

“Come to Vermont.”

“Jamie?” She sounds wrong. Not simply too calm, not simply too level, but as though all the life has been wrung from her body. As though she’s calling him from another plane altogether, and Owen will later be embarrassed by his first awful thought: She’s dead. She’s calling me from her own grave. It’s Hannah all over again.

But of course nothing ever could be. Nothing could ever match Hannah, the impossibility of her that summer. The impossible, cruel way the universe had of pushing her nearly into his arms before letting that trapdoor fall open beneath his feet. Jamie isn’t dead; Jamie is breathing into the other end of the phone, as though straining to keep herself together. Which can only mean one thing. 

He’s on the first flight. A bag with a few changes of clothes, a passport, a photo he is to this day unable to travel without. The plane juddering beneath him, his legs crammed into the small space, he presses his thumb to the smile beneath the plastic sheet. 

Hannah, I don’t know how to do this again. He’s never quite known how to do it at all, how to be this person--and wasn’t that because of Jamie all along? Jamie, who had found Rebecca’s body and made all the appropriate calls, her expression stony as she’d explained to the police how they’d found her. Jamie, who had answered the phone that night, turning on her heel with eyes that suddenly took up half her face, apologizing as he’d never heard her do before. Jamie, who made arrangements for food and drink while he stood like a puncture wound in blue jeans staring at what was left of his mother’s estate. 

Jamie, who stood beside him in front of a well, looking down even when he hadn’t been able to stomach it any longer. Jamie, always looking down into the face of cold reality. 

He’s never quite where he needs to be when it happens, but Jamie is. Jamie has always been. She is almost unfairly good at it: standing tall, accepting the truth, holding them all up when they shatter. 

And now, here she is: opening the door in cuffed jeans and a rumpled brown flannel shirt. Here she is, a few years older than Paris, looking at him like she’s never seen him before. Like the woman who called was someone else entirely. He thinks he sees a little of his mother in the blank distance of her eyes, and his heart cracks. 

“What happened?”

She turns from him, gesturing for him to come in. The flat, which has every hallmark of home, is surprisingly warm. Surprisingly messy, too--there are clothes on the couch, most of them things he recognizes as Dani’s from the photos they’ve been mailing his way for years. The floor is covered with pots, lemongrass and tiny succulents and a large-leaved plant he doesn’t recognize standing proudly amid clods of dirt, a watering can, several crumpled packs of cigarettes. 

She reaches for one of these now, taps out the final smoke into her palm, crunches the wrapping. “Want one?”

That voice again, that strange timbre--the accent a little less than he remembers, a little ironed-out by nearly fifteen years in this country, though that isn’t what works a shiver up his spine. It’s so flat. It’s so toneless. Jamie has been many things since he’s known her--angry, aggressive, cool, even violent--but never this detached. 

He’s never seen her like this. He’s never thought to worry he ever would. Jamie has aways been the most stable of them, taking up the mantle when even he couldn’t carry it. 

We, he thinks wearily, are the survivors. The witnesses. No one ever talks about what that’s like. 

Untrue. People talk about it. People who do useful things, like attend support groups, or get themselves to therapy. Henry does, sometimes--nursing seltzer, smiling ruefully at Owen over dinner. We think it’s the losing them that hurts the worst, until it happens, he’d said once. It isn’t. It’s the part where you have to keep waking up, dreaming for a split second each morning they’re still here. 

Nearly fifteen years, and there hasn’t been a single morning Owen hasn’t thought absently of calling her up. Not one where he hasn’t thought, Been too long without her voice. Without her laugh. God, that woman’s laugh. 

“Jamie...”

Her head comes up sharply, her eyes flashing--and then, like it was never there, the expression passes. She lights the cigarette with a steady hand, settles herself back on the rug with it clamped between her teeth. There’s soil smudged on her cheek, caked into her hair, and he wonders when last she showered. 

“Jamie, do you want to talk about it?”

She doesn’t. He knows that. He remembers too well how she’d sat beside him on a sofa in 1987, passed him a bottle of wine in silence. How she’d said simply, covering all bases in two words, “Fuck it.” 

It had been Dani, he remembers, who spoke of it first. Dani, looking paler than normal, looking shaken, saying firmly, “We should do something. We should do something for her.”

“Sit,” Jamie says without looking at him. She’s already getting back into it, he realizes--working her hands carefully back into a terra cotta pot, brushing the soil from spindly roots with loving care. It’s how she looked after Rebecca, brow furrowed, smoking and working in silence. There are problems that can’t be managed, he understands, and the only way someone like Jamie can tolerate that fact is to find new troubles to set right.

“Where is she, Jamie?” She’s not going to like this, he knows. He’d hate it, in her place. Had hated it, whenever someone dared speak Hannah’s name for those first few months. She’s going to hate him for it now.

But someone has to speak. Someone has to throw the line, lest she drift too far to come back. She called. There was a reason for it. 

“Jamie. Where is she?”

She gives him nothing. Jets smoke, taps ash into an empty beer can, keeps her eyes on the work. This isn’t like after Rebecca, he can see--Jamie back then had been hard-edged, furious that she hadn’t gotten to Becca in time, but she’d at least been willing to hold conversation. More than willing. It had seemed to ground her, reflecting on the Peter Quint of it all, on the shame of not being able to help enough, on how to explain it to the kids. 

Now, she sits with her back against the couch, her eyes not tracking the progress of her own hands. Owen, kneeling beside her, feels as though the room is waiting for something. Waiting for a knife to slide into the bubble she’s built, tearing it open to allow all that building water to rush in. 

He changes tack. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Three days,” she says. Her face is scrunched with concentration, her fingers testing something he can’t track in the roots. 

“Have you eaten?”

“’Course,” she says, gesturing recklessly with the cigarette at a stack of pizza boxes, several empty wine bottles, a dozen abandoned mugs. “All the food groups.”

“Slept?” He remembers that was the worst part, sleeping. Before it had all gone wrong, he’d gone to bed each night with a promise: Tomorrow, I’ll tell her. Tomorrow, I’ll finally do it. 

After, he’d stayed up until dawn in the kitchen, kneading dough, testing wilder and wilder concoctions. Jamie would stumble in at three in the morning, still half-asleep, to find him shoving a bowl of batter under her nose. 

Here. Try this. What does it need?

Cinnamon, she’d say gamely, though she’d clearly only been craving a glass of water. He’d slump against the table, head hanging between his arms.

She’d say it was divine as-is. 

Yeah, well. She always did like to see that idiot grin. 

“Jamie,” he says now, patiently. “Have you slept?”

She shrugs. He doesn’t need to walk down the hall to know the bed is likely sitting untouched, perfectly made--or, worse, exactly as she’d rolled out of it the last time. Exactly how she’d left it, when whatever had gone wrong had happened. 

It’s so easy, leaving things. 

It’s nearly impossible, setting them right again when the bigger problem can’t be fixed.

“Where is she, Jamie?” He hates himself. Hates pushing her. Hates the way her shoulders square a little tighter, her jaw clenching, her muddy fingers stretching to find an unopened pack of cigarettes to replace the one burned to nearly nothing between her lips. “Jamie. You called me.”

“Wouldn’t have,” she grumbles, “if I’d thought you’d talk this fucking much.”

Not true. He can see it in her, the shade not of the woman she’d been when they had met--hardy, rugged, a little grin around her mouth that said she’d make him regret it if he even considered pulling on her strings--but the one Dani had loved into being. We are all, he thinks, shaped by the love they give. Changes the molecules. Turns us from dough to something worth serving. 

The woman he’d met, tempered by a past she never discussed, patience she couldn't quite get a handle on, wouldn’t want him to talk this much.

The woman she is now, the one who had sat in his restaurant watching Dani like she was written in the only language worth knowing, called for a reason.

“Jamie.”

“Stop.” She closes her eyes. Her hands are shaking too hard to work out another cigarette, too hard to urge the Bic to light. 

“Where,” he asks gently. She’s shaking her head. When did so much silver slip into her hair? When did those lines crop up around her mouth? How long has it been, since he was where she needed him to be?

Didn’t need me. Not then. Had everything she needed, with Dani, but now--

“Jamie, where--”

“She’s gone.” Her eyes are blazing, her lips trembling. He has never, never seen this look on her face. This shattered, almost exultant misery is impossible to endure. She doesn’t look like Jamie now. She is only a collection of her worst fears made real. “She’s gone, Owen. She’s--”

She hunches into herself, a single crack splitting like a windscreen beneath a thrown rock. One foot lashes out sharply, sending a pot cartwheeling over onto its side. 

“She’s fucking gone,” she repeats in a voice like a woman kicked in the stomach. She raises her eyes, red-rimmed, and almost smiles. “I fell asleep.”

Strange, he thinks as he shuffles across the rug to wrap his arms around her, the last thought that kicks out when they’re gone. Not I should have told her, not I should have been there, but: I was in the kitchen. Not I should have stopped her, not I should have been faster, but: I fell asleep. The should doesn’t matter anymore, once they’re gone. All that matters is what you did. Where you were. What you can never change. 

“I fell asleep,” she repeats, and there’s nothing flat about her voice now. Even speaking of Rebecca, the Wingraves, Hannah, she’s never sounded half this shattered. “I fell asleep, Owen. I fell--”

He’s pressing his face against her shoulder, feeling unforgivably enormous draped this way over her slight frame. She folds double, rocking back and forth, one hand digging so hard into the other arm that he’ll be gently patching bloody gouges in an hour’s time. For now, he only sways with her, allowing the momentum of her grief to rock him back and forth, back and forth.

“She’s gone,” she says again. “She’s gone. She’s--”

He’ll stay a while--not quite feeling secure leaving her on her own, not quite willing to risk letting her slide back into this space. He’ll stay, helping her in the kitchen (She was better at it. Less likely to poison us, anyway.), and with the nightmare of making those phone calls (Her mum needs to know. Hated me, but still. And Judy O’Mara. And Henry. Fuck. The kids won’t even...). She won’t let him near the bedroom, won’t let him tuck her into that bed. The one and only time he’ll offer to help sift through Dani’s belongings, she’ll flex a fist around a bottle like she’s thinking of swinging it at him. 

She won’t look at him when he steps into the bathroom to find the tub draining over the side onto the floor, either, the sink full of clean water. When he opens his mouth to question, she’ll reach past him, slap down the plunger, stride out of the room without a word. 

Leave her whatever rituals she needs, he’ll think, remembering all those unnecessary three-a.m. cakes. Leave her whatever ghosts she can’t let go. 

He���ll stay as long as she needs, he decides with her beginning to sob at last. He’s never quite been there, when it happens--never been able to look death in the eye as Jamie has. It’s the greatest injustice in the world, how many loved ones have gone on without him, leaving only stories in their wake. 

He’s never where he needs to be, to stop it happening--but he can be here. For a little while, at least. He can hold her, and he can look down. 

There is no justice, this time, in letting Jamie believe she needs to be strong enough to do it alone.

[join-the-joywrite]

and I don't want to (but I love you)

@jatp-week Day 6: favourite trope

Not me doing a self-indulgent and stupidly long enemies to lovers au :>

Julie Molina didn't have enemies in her life. She had competitors, sure. Everyone did. But Sunset Curve took the whole cake. She didn't have enemies but Luke Patterson came dangerously close.

Luke Patterson, on the other hand, fully considered Julie Molina his number one enemy. He had zero qualms about saying that to her face and behind her back. He knew his band was the best but Julie had a real knack for knocking his ego down a bit and he hated her for it. Maybe he wouldn't get so riled up if she was nice about it or if not nice, she was less nasty and more stern. Honestly, it seemed like she took pleasure in criticizing Sunset Curve.

The rivalry between them extended to their bands and friend circles. Well, for the most part, anyway. Julie and Luke let Willie and Alex get away with their little forbidden lovers thing because they both thought the pair was cute together. It was pretty much the only thing they agreed on. Ever.

Willie only ever talked about Alex, not the band and Alex made sure to steer clear of mentioning Julie whenever he talked about Willie. The arrangement worked for all sides.

Julie and Luke's rivalry extended far beyond their music. It crept into their classes and had them fighting for the top spot. The teachers were thrilled. It meant Luke put in as much effort as he possibly could into every assignment or test. Even if it was out of pure spite, it was working.

And then, oh dear, and then there was a group project. Obviously, they split to opposite ends of the room with their friends to choose pairs (except Willie and Alex, who were shoved together and assured it was perfect) but apparently, it was important to learn how to work with people you dislike because in the workplace you might be forced to work with people you dislike -- or something like that.

Julie and Luke had never let their rivalry coerce them into doing stupid things -- except the one time where Carrie was convinced Luke could hold his breath longer and Julie almost drowned in the school pool to prove Carrie wrong -- but the moment they were paired up, Julie and Luke both wanted nothing more than to break several school rules, vandalism being the top one and starting violent fights being the second. It was unclear if they wanted to fight each other or their teacher.

Matters were made worse when their friends got to pair off together on their own terms while they were stuck with each other. The only thing keeping them from completely refusing to do any work was that they both were still competing for the highest scores.

Their friends had never been more entertained and the two opposing groups bonded over watching the two most stubborn people they knew suffer out a school project together. The clear awkwardness between them was hilarious and it was a pleasant thing to see them sitting at the same table and not trying to verbally murder each other. Bobby turned out to be the funniest person in the whole group. He had a meme-y caption for every moment they caught of Julie and Luke sitting near enough to have a normal conversation and the others loved it. He also seemed to be able to relate all the memes to the pair and was strangely good at photoshop, which earned him the Groupchat King title. (Julie and Luke were completely unaware of this groupchat excluding only them -- which, for the others' safety, was for the best.) Flynn's favourite was a photo of Julie with a feral look on her face, miming strangling a smug Luke. Me & 2020 was Bobby's winning caption. She wasn't sure which was which and that made it even better, in her opinion.

As the weeks passed, Julie and Luke's rivalry mellowed. As far as they said, it was still going strong but their actions told another story. There were playful nudges in the hallway, now. Teasing death glares across a classroom. Locked gazes and stifled giggles at inside jokes -- the fact that they even had those was surprising enough. They willingly shared a lunch table for the sole purpose of interrupting a mini date between Willie and Alex but most of it was spent in their own world anyway. Their mockery of each other had become gentler and more harmless teasing than anything.

And then one Tuesday, Luke didn't show up at school.

Of course, Luke's band knew exactly what was up, but they -- with support from Julie's friends -- decided it would be fun to play dumb and send Julie to Luke's house, just to check up on him, you know, despite the fact that the group project was long over and she really had no need to meddle further into Luke's life. The mere fact that Julie forgot she still had class and was seriously ready to leave immediately said a lot.

"I can promise you that it's really not as bad as it looks," Luke said from under several pillows, a puffy duvet and maybe three stuffed animals, "but there's no band practice today and I'm not coming to school tomorrow either so can one of you flick Julie's forehead for me? It's tradition."

"Band practice, huh?" Julie said, dropping her bag on the floor with a soft thud. "And here I thought you just had nothing more interesting going on in your life than disrupting mine."

Luke sat up fast enough that his head spun, his vision swam and two pillows fell off the bed. "Who told you where I live?"

"You did, dork. Here, I brought your homework and my dad's trying something out in the kitchen. He misread balf the recipe so it's the blandest thing I've ever tasted but if you're sick, it'll be good for you."

Luke responded to the bit that made sense. "I don't want bland food," he said, scrunching up his nose as Julie set a small stack of papers on the desk in the corner and walked up to him with a covered bowl.

"As if you'd know the difference. Your mom said you can't taste anything anyway."

"You talked to my mom?" Luke asked, looking mortified.

"Yeah, duh. What, did you think I climbed through your bedroom window? I don't care that much for you."

"Aww, I knew you cared for me."

Julie didn't respond to it. "So this is supposed to be a vegetable stew," she said, tapping the plastic wrap over the bowl, "but like I said, mistakes were made."

"Well, what is it then?" Luke asked, leaning over to peer at the bowl.

"I'd call it . . . semi-flavoured water with surprise veggies."

"Joy."

"I know, right? Anyway, I'll leave you to your . . . pillow fort? Cute stuffies. I have the same penguin."

Luke glanced at the penguin that was still secured in his arm. "Don't you dare tell your friends. Especially not Flynn. She's ruthless."

"She is not. But fine, only because you're sick. I'll be back for my bowl tomorrow and it better be empty."

Luke watched Julie leave with a look of amazement. As soon as he heard his front door close, footsteps pattered through the hallway, leading up to his mother sticking her head in his room. "I like her."

"I'm going back to sleep," Luke said, diving back into the safety of all his pillows, wondering if it was the fever or Julie that set his cheeks blazing.

Probably the fever.

"Good afternoon, dork. Reggie says you said you liked the semi-flavoured water and my dad felt very appreciated by that so he's made some actual stew for you to try. It's beef stew this time so please don't get surprised. Did you do yesterday's homework? You should, because I brought today's. How do you feel?"

Luke, who had been staring at Julie with his mouth slightly open in a perfect picture of surprise, blinked when he realised she'd stopped speaking. "Don't you knock?!"

"Your mom said you were asleep and I could just leave everything here for you but you were awake so. . ." Julie trailed off, shrugging.

"You . . . you are so strange."

Julie shrugged as she set the homework down on the desk and walked up to the nightstand to put the covered bowl down in Luke's reach. "You need to come back to school. I feel bad bullying your friends."

"I'm sure they'll be glad to hear that," Luke said sarcastically. He paused for a second. "Yeah, I did the homework. Most of it. My mom said it'll help to get out of bed and do something. I tried to play the guitar but she was adamant I didn't do that something."

Julie nodded and walked back to Luke's desk. She rifled through the mess and picked up all the homework. "I'll finish this essay for you," she said almost absently, searching among the pages. "Please tell me you did your science homework. I got a lot of that wrong and no one wants to give me the answers because apparently, I should learn my work."

"Uh . . . yeah. Um, yeah, I did the science. Wh-- what do you mean 'do the essay' for me?"

Julie looked up as she gathered everything into a pile of messy and uneven papers. "It's on the African American civil rights movement. It's factual and ninety percent of the class will have the same essay anyway so--"

"No. No, I mean . . . why?"

"Oh. Uh . . . why not?"

Luke didn't have a response, so he fell silent.

"Well, that's all of yesterday's homework. Get some rest and then make sure you eat. I can't have my favourite punching bag get too weak to take a hit."

As Julie turned and left his room, Luke felt the sudden urge to scream, so instead, he slammed his burning face into his favourite penguin. Yes, she had called him a punching bag, but she'd also called him her favourite.

"Music class just isn't the same without booing you. Also, Alex said you managed to keep the beef stew down yesterday so my dad thought you could try something a little heavier. This is an experimental chicken and fried rice . . . thing. I do not reccomend eating unless you're sure you're okay enough for a full meal. That said, I brought more beef stew in case you're not up for the chicken and rice."

"You can't just walk in unannounced!" Luke cried as Julie set down the two bowls on the nightstand.

"I can, actually," Julie said, flashing a set of keys at Luke.

Luke's jaw dropped when he recognized the keychains. "Hey, those are mine!"

"Wow, so observant. Your mom gave it to me before I left yesterday because your dad is at work and she needed to go out today and with you holed up in here, there wouldn't be anyone to open for me."

Luke frowned. "Oh, yeah, she said something like that but I was half-asleep."

Julie was pleasantly surprised to find Luke's homework neatly gathered at the corner of the desk. It didn't escape her how Luke seemed to glow with pride when she commented on it. She had to fight a smile as she dropped Luke's homework into her bag.

"Get some rest, dork. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call someone from Sunset Swerve. I'll be busy."

"It's Sunset CURVE and you know it."

"Really? I never noticed."

Luke pouted. "Tuxedo Sam says you're being very mean right now. I'm sick and I deserve care."

"Well, you can tell your stupid penguin that Skipper will beat his ass."

"You named your penguin after the penguins from Madagascar?"

"You call yours Tuxedo Sam."

"Yeah, okay, that's fair."

Julie rolled her eyes and turned to leave. "Take a nap, Moody McSleeveless."

Luke glanced at the penguin laying nearby as he heard Julie lock up the house again. "Don't look at me like that, she's mean all the time."

"I BROUGHT CAKE!"

Luke scrambled up, launching Tuxedo Sam off the bed. "Who died?"

"No one died," Julie said, picking up the penguin as she walked up to Luke's bed. "It's Friday and since you're doing a little better, I thought you could do with a small treat. Tuxedo Sam agrees."

"Give me back my penguin," Luke said, reaching both arms out to Julie.

"Did you do yesterday's homework?"

"Yes."

"Did you really eat both bowls of food yesterday?"

"Yes."

"And keep it down?"

"Yes, ma'am, now can I please have my penguin back?"

Julie passed Luke the stuffed animal. "You're adorable," she blurted, turning away immediately to hide her own stunned look. She cleared her throat as she headed to the desk to grab Luke's homework. "So, that group project? We got a ninety-five."

That distracted Luke easily enough. "What happened to the other five?!"

"We're very bad at teamwork," Julie said, glancing back at Luke over her shoulder to see him relax against the pillows.

"Ah. That . . . makes sense."

Julie nodded. "Mhm."

The silence that blanketed the room wasn't as awkward as it should have been.

"I have to go. Most of the teachers said it would be okay to get your homework on Monday, but Mr Hughes is on my tail about your chemistry paper. My dad is making cupcakes tonight for some reason and I told Willie he could have some, so I'll send extra with him to give to Alex to give to you, but enjoy that crappy store cake for now. I left proper lunch with your mom for when you feel like it."

It didn't register that the only reason Mr Hughes would be harassing Julie about Luke's homework was if Julie herself had taken responsibility for Luke. Well, it did register, but by then, Julie was long gone and the only response Luke could muster was a muffled scream into poor Tuxedo Sam.

"Oh, ew, gross. Luke, it smells like the middle school locker room in here. What were you doing?"

Luke had never looked more sheepish in his life as he pointed to the canister on his nightstand -- right next to his alarm clock. "My phone went off about an hour ago and I thought it was the alarm so I did the smart thing and slammed it down but I missed. Obviously."

Holding her nose, Julie dropped everything she was carrying on Luke's table and tore the curtains open, pushing the windows as far as they could go. She stood there for a moment, relishing in the fresh air. "I'll come back inside when I can breathe," Julie said, halfway out the window.

Luke wanted to melt into his pillows. A week later and he was only feeling slightly better. The pros of it was that Julie visited every day with something tasty and a level of snark that only amused him. The cons of it was that Julie visited every day and left him flustered and red in the face.

He firmly believed that Julie only came by every day because she had homework to drop off, but today was Saturday. There was no more homework to drop off.

And she could have just backtracked right out the door again but instead, she headed for the windows on the other side of his room. Why?

Because she's taking care of you, dork.

Luke couldn't help but think that the logical voice in his head sounded suspiciously like Julie.

"Hey, my parents have some stupid couple's yoga thing on Saturdays. Did you break in?"

Julie pulled the windows halfway closed and stepped back into the room. "No, I still have your keys. Your dad tried to give me the spare key to the front door but your mom said it'll be fine if I kept yours until you're back on your feet."

"Wow. She really trusts you, huh?"

Julie shrugged. "I'm a very trustworthy person."

"No, you're not. I saw you lose a pen that you stuck behind your ear and then you proceeded to lose three more by tucking them behind your other ear and in your pockets. You then tried to steal mine."

"I was fourteen," Julie said defensively.

"It happened last week!"

"I felt fourteen."

Luke gave Julie a deadpan look.

"Cute pyjamas."

"I know, right? Bobby got us matching ones when we were like fifteen for band bonding. I mean, I grew out of the pants but the shirt still fits."

Julie scoffed as she stared at the dark haired cartoon smiling at her from the pink shirt. "Looks really good on you, Skip."

"Hey, I like being Skipper. She's Barbie's most intelligent sister."

"Oh, yeah?" Luke didn't even notice that Julie had made herself comfortable at the foot of his bed. "And if you're Skipper, who are the others?"

"Bobby is Chelsea, 'cause he's the youngest of us, Alex is Barbie, 'cause his summer jobs have been everywhere, and Reg is Stacie, 'cause she's Bobby's favourite and Bobby's favourite bandmate is Reg."

Julie's head tilted slightly. "You sound drunk."

"The bottle said one teaspoon of cough syrup but I didn't read and I took two tablespoons. It's okay, though. Mom panicked and called the doctor and he says the cough syrup he gave me is for kids and I'm just really, really, really intolerant. Which you should remember for me because I plan to be super famous with the band and there are gonna be a lot of after parties and I don't wanna get drunk five minutes in. I think the cough syrup is kicking in."

"Luke Patterson, you are unbelievable."

"I know, right?" He attempted a winning smile, but it came off as plain childlike.

Julie chastised herself for finding him adorable. They were mortal enemies and she had to remember that. Then what are you doing in his room on a Saturday, after explicitly telling the rest of his band to stay away?

Julie found it unnerving how much the voice in her head sounded like a teasing Luke.

"You're like, really annoying."

Julie frowned. "I -- I'm sorry?"

"You should be." Luke was sitting cross-legged now, fiddling with the ears of a stuffed bunny. "It's really messing with my head."

Julie decided she liked tipsy Luke -- even if it was just cough syrup. "How so?"

"No, it's nothing."

"You can tell me, Luke. I promised not to tell anyone about your stuffed animals and I kept it, right?"

"Yeah, but this time the secret about you. You're not allowed to know."

Curiosity more than anything made Julie lean forward slightly. "It'll be our secret."

"Okay, but you have to promise not to talk about it."

Julie nodded quickly. Luke tugged at the bunny's ears for a moment.

"You're like . . . really pretty."

Julie couldn't help the soft laugh that bubbled out of her. Adorable, she thought.

"Like, a lot of pretty. You're pretty on the inside, too."

"On the inside?"

"Yeah. On the inside. You know, your heart."

"M-my heart?"

Luke nodded at his stuffed rabbit. "Yeah. You have a really pretty heart. It beats like a drum. Making music. Like you."

Julie's mouth hung open, surprise silencing her.

"You have the prettiest music in you. I can hear it like -- like a song that gets stuck in my head all day. It's really annoying but it's so pretty. It smells like flowers and it looks like butterflies."

At this point, Julie didn't think she'd be able to speak, even if she knew what to say. Luke was talking to the stuffed animal, frowning as he struggled to voice his thoughts understandably.

"Sometimes it's just so loud and I wanna cover my ears and run away but it just gets louder and louder and then you come over and you're saying something mean but the music is there and it's not so loud anymore but I still can't hear anything else. Your heart sounds like a ballad."

Julie was frozen to her seat at the edge of the bed. Part of her wondered if it was Luke talking or the fever. Part of her desperately hoped it was Luke.

"Julie, you are music."

It was a simple sentence. Anyone could have said it. It could mean a lot or it could mean nothing at all. If anyone else had said it to her, she would have taken it as the highest form of a compliment. But that wasn't what Luke was saying.

Everyone knew that Luke spoke best through lyrics and chords. His books and desks were covered in etched notes and scribbled words. Luke lived and breathed music. It was everything to him. Without it, Luke didn't know who he was.

And he compared it to Julie.

Julie stared at the text on her phone. She bit her lower lip, unsure of what to say in response.

Mom said you visited yesterday. I was dazed for most of it. I didn't say anything stupid or incriminating, right? Not that anything could be more incriminating than the three stuffed animals on my bed.

Ten minutes after that, another had come through. Jules, are you ignoring me? Did I do something?

Then another five minutes later. This is still Julie Molina's number, right?

Julie quickly typed out something before she chickened out again and tossed her phone to the foot of her bed once it was sent.

Hey. Got busy in the kitchen with dad. No, you're good. See you at school tomorrow?

Julie scrambled for her phone to send one last word.

A few streets away, Luke stared at the word 'dork'. He was sure he had said something. He vaguely remembered yapping on about music to Julie -- duh, what else did they share? -- and then suddenly, she wasn't there anymore. He wondered if he'd fallen asleep talking and Julie had left then or if he really had said something to make her leave.

Yeah, he wrote back, see you at school.

Luke cornered Julie as soon as he caught sight of her in the school hallway. "You've been ignoring me and I don't like that."

Julie squeaked. "I most definitely am not ignoring you."

"Julie, you're pretty much the only person in this school that doesn't keep their phone on mute or vibrate. I know you heard my texts yesterday."

"So what if I am?" Julie asked, folding her arms. "We're not friends, so why should you care if I reply to your texts or not? In fact, why were you even messaging me in the first place?"

While Luke fumbled for a response, Julie slipped past him and continued on her way to class.

"Oh, that is just rude!" Luke yelled after Julie.

She ignored him all through any classes they shared and when lunch rolled around, she made sure to sit with Carrie and Flynn at a small table. Luke had never looked more offended in his life as he joined Reggie in sitting with Alex and Willie.

"What did you do on Saturday?" Alex asked, leaning forward to whisper. "Julie was fine when she told us we don't need to come by at all."

"Julie told you not to come over?" Luke asked, ripping his gaze from Julie to Alex and then Reggie, who shook his head.

"Bro, she actually called Alex and told him that we don't need to come see you because she was going to."

"Yeah, I remember her being there but I was drugged up on cough syrup."

"Weak," Alex whispered loudly, grinning when he made Willie laugh.

"Maybe you said something?" Willie suggested.

"Yeah, probably! But she's not talking to me. She's not even insulting me, which I would very much prefer over this apathy."

"You know where she lives," Reggie said dismissively. "Maybe you should pay her a visit."

Luke glanced across the cafeteria to see Julie quickly whip her head down to stare at her fold. "Yeah. Maybe."

Julie was tired and wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. Her plans were thrown way off the rails when she walked into her room and found Luke petering around the shelves beside her bed.

"What are you doing here?"

Luke drew his hand back sharply. "Cute box. What's in it?"

"None of your business," Julie snapped, hurriedly closing her bedroom door. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you but you were ignoring me and--"

"You could've just yelled at me from outside," Julie hissed. "I would have come down to shut you up! You can't be in here. Get out of my room."

"No. Not until you tell me why you've been avoiding me since Saturday. Jules, what--"

"Fine! Go and wait for me in the garage. I'll come talk to you in there."

Luke hesitated, unsure if Julie was serious.

When she heard footsteps getting closer, Julie grabbed Luke by the neckline of his shirt and dragged him to the window. "Get out," she whispered hurriedly, "I'll come down to the garage, I promise."

Thankfully, by the time her father arrived, Luke was gone.

"Who were you talking to, mija?"

"Luke," Julie said with a smile. She pointed at the phone. "He liked the cupcakes I sent with Willie."

"Oh, that's great. You didn't take something yesterday and today? Is he feeling better?"

"Much," Julie said, nodding, "in fact, we have some talking to do, so I'm gonna meet him in the garage in a few minutes."

"So late?"

Julie absolutely could not lie to her dad. But she could do half truths. "It's a long overdue discussion."

"School work?"

Julie shrugged. "Music."

"Ah. The garage makes sense. Well, do you wanna take some food down? Midnight snack?"

"Thanks, dad," Julie said with a smile, "you're the best."

"Oh, your dad is the best!" Luke cried as soon as he saw Julie walk in with a plate of cookies.

"These are experimental, too. They're some kind of oatmeal and choc mint blend. They taste good, in my opinion."

"Everything your dad makes tastes good," Luke said, grabbing three cookies. "My mom's starting to get jealous of how much I love your dad's cooking."

Juli smiled and set the plate down on the coffee table. Was there any point beating around the bush? Sugarcoating things?

"You told me I was music."

Luke paused, one and a half cookies gone. "What?"

Julie kept her gaze trained on the tassels of the carpet. "You told me I'm annoying . . . because I'm pretty. Because I have a pretty heart. You said it beats like a drum and I have the prettiest music in me that gets stuck in your head. It --"

"Smells like spring and looks like butterflies. . ." Luke looked positively mortified.

Julie, refusing to look up, did not notice. "You said . . . you said my heart sounds like a ballad and then -- and then you told me I am music."

Had he really said all that aloud? Well, no wonder Julie was avoiding him like the plague.

Julie tensed up when she could see Luke's feet step in front of her. Almost every part of her screamed that this was wrong. They shouldn't be so close without bickering and fighting. But deeper within, beyond the confines of logic and sense, Luke's voice told her that this was the furthest thing from wrong.

"I said all that? Aloud?"

Julie nodded.

"You know what music is to me."

Julie nodded again.

"Jules," Luke said gently. "Julie, look at me."

Julie refused to, so Luke gingerly tucked his finger under her chin and lifted her head, waiting until her gaze fell on him before speaking.

"You know what music is to me," he said again, prompting another nod from Julie. "Then you know what you mean to me."

Julie blinked a few times and shook her head. "No. No, that's just the fever talking. You -- you didn't really mean all of that."

"If you really believe that, why are you avoiding me?"

"I . . . I don't know."

Luke dropped his hand to take hold of Julie's. He glanced at her, waiting for her to pull away. When she didn't, he interlocked his fingers with hers. "I meant every word. Okay, maybe not literally, but you know what I mean."

Julie shook her head. "We're not even friends, Luke."

"Hm, well, who said I wanted to be your friend?"

Julie wanted to hate Luke. She wanted to loathe the sight of him. She didn't want to like him, let alone love him.

And yet, she did.

So before the overthinker in her could stop her, Julie leaned up on tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. Luke beamed at her like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Not the response I was expecting, but definitely one I'm enjoying."

"Don't make me regret it."

"Yes, ma'am. Now, what are my chances of getting two more? And one for the road? Within the next five seconds becaus my mom doesn't know I snuck out and she think I'm still sick."

"Dork," Julie said fondly, shaking her head.

"I'm serious!"

"You can have two."

"Three."

"Two."

"Four."

"One."

"Two will do," Luke said, letting go of Julie's hands to wrap his arms around her. He gave her a small squeeze. "Plus a hug."

"Dork," Julie said again. But he was her dork and he was her favourite.

Before anyone comes for me about the cough syrup thing, I'm drawing from experience. I mean I never confessed my undying love for anyone but I did blurt out some weird shit. Also, THAT WAS LONG AND IF YOU SURVIVED THE ENTIRE THING, CONGRATULATIONS TO YOU

Mara's masterlist

[random-mha-thoughts]

Sleepless (LoV x Reader)

Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship

Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, Kurogiri, Dabi x reader

@riarora messaged me with the request: "So I was thinking platonic LOV x child reader (You can make them 18 if you're more comfortable, but I was thinking more like 14-15)The reader (I'll refer to them as she/her, but you can make it gender neutral) has really bad insomnia so every night, she would be pacing around, doing anything and everything to make sure no dark thoughts take over. Usually, none of the LOV would bat an eye, but considering the fact that she's a child, they feel sympathy, so they indirectly try to get her to fall asleep. Like, sending her on extra missions (always with protection of course) or changing her normal tea with sleeping tea, or maybe just straight up telling her to sleep."

Genre: Comfort

Word Count: 2,291

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Thanks for the request sweetie!  I hope you like it~

Wrote this while listening to a Shinsou playlist on Spotify and it was pretty chill to listen to, if y’all want the link you can comment or dm me and I’ll send it.  Something different, but I like how it turned out. It's twice as long as I thought it would end up being, but I think it fits.  It's a comfort story that I hope you guys will read even if you don't normally read stuff for the villains.  I really like it, I hope you guys read it if you need some comforting.  Enjoy~

Like a lot of people, I don't have the nicest thoughts.  Most nights, I'm trying everything to block them out and find the sweet release of sleep, whether it's trying to consciously think of other things to block them out, escaping out of my sheets to pace or run in place inside this small room I was given, or getting up to get a snack.  Unsurprisingly, none of it works.  The rest of the League constantly tease me about my dark circles making me look more villainous all I do is smile, because at least it means I'm part of something now.  I would ask them to get me something to busy myself, like a sketch book or a notebook to keep me busy at night, but they aren't my parents; they have no obligation to take care of me and they've already give me a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in.

Little by little, the perceived barrier between us broke down before I realized it.

It started when I took one of my late night trips to the kitchen only to see the light on already.  Toga's crooked but innocent smile beams up at me as she twirls a knife in her hand, leaning against the counter.  "You're up too, hmm~?  Wanna take a trip with me?"

We ended up shrugging on our jackets and masks, walking into the dark, brisk night to the nearest grocery store.  "You waited until 2 AM to get pomegranates?" I raised an eyebrow at her zipping straight to the produce section of the market.

"I didn't wanna go alone~" Toga casually responded in her singsongy voice.  "A little girl like me shouldn't be out alone at night.  Besides, late night shopping in a practically empty supermarket is the best time to go.  It's super creepy!"  She giggles, filling a plastic bag with three large fruits.

We returned to our hideout and she asked me to help her de-seed them.  I slide in next to her, taking the knife out of her hand.  Not like I had anything better to do.  What was I gonna do, sleep?  Sure, okay.

She sliced the fruits in half and held her hands over a large, empty container, using just her hands to push the seeds off the bitter white core, humming to herself.  "Are you sure there isn't a more...strategic way to do this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess she was making of her hands.

Toga just giggled and held my stare with her cat-like yellow eyes.  "When it gets all over your fingers, it kind of looks like blood doesn't it?" She shivered in ecstasy as she licked the scarlet juice running down her hands and the knife she cut them with.  "Mmm, so sweet."

While I continued, trying to avail to be as clean as possible, taking sips of the tea she made for us while we work.  I chanced a few tastes myself, chuckling at my own hands.  "You're right, it looks like we've commit murder."

"Right?" she chirped with the widest grin, "Isn't it fun?"

I made a better point to get more juice on my fingers before curling my fingers grossly towards her.  "I want your heart, Toga.  Give it to me!" I growled.

She giggled and held one of my wrists so she can lick some of the juice off.  "Too bad you can't have it."

After we finished gathering the seeds into the bowl, we sat on the couch, munching on them by the handful and finishing our drinks.  My eyelids kept drooping as I drank my tea.

"We should go on adventures more often," Toga purred as I near the end, taking my cup, laying me down, and covering my body with a blanket before petting my head.  Her voice singing, "Sleep well, (Y/n)" was the last thing I heard before drifting off.  It was the best night's sleep I'd gotten in a long while.

.

A few days later, Kurogiri stopped me from heading to bed while the rest went off.  "I heard you and Toga up late a few nights ago.  Why don't you help me clean up before going up?"

I agreed, mostly because I would be awake with my thoughts anyway.  He had me shining his glasses, climbing up a ladder to dust the top shelves of his bar, wiping down the counters, and organizing his liquor.

"Have some of this, child."  He set down a cup of tea and saucer on the counter while I was organizing his top shelf liquor, the clock flashing 1:57 AM.  "You've been a big help."

I climbed down carefully and stare down at the translucent, peach colored liquid carefully.

He noticed my cautiousness.  "How are you adjusting?"

I tilted the cup around, swishing the liquid around before holding it up to my lips.  "It's better than where I was before, thank you."

"I'm glad you're settling in and getting along with the rest."

"It's just Toga so far."  I sipped a good portion of the hot liquid, easing down my through smooth as the honey I can taste that he added.

"It'll take time for the others to warm up to you.  Shigaraki and Dabi especially don't take to strangers that easily, but they'll come around."  His cold, portal enclosed hand rested on my head.  "We're happy to take you in as our family, (Y/n)."

I smiled at his assurance of me, nodding in gratitude, but still hesitant about feeling that I fit in here.

We talked for a while more until I finished his tea and he sent me off to bed.  Though reluctant - I even offered to do more cleaning up to keep myself there - he insisted I leave.  I trudge to my room, the exhaustion in my bones and muscles more apparent than usual.  I know this old trick; even when I'm fatigued, my thoughts still keep me up.  But as I ease under the blanket and close my eyes, I feel myself pulled down into sleep without interference.  I started thinking there was something in the tea.

.

It took a while for Shigaraki to come around, as Kurogiri said.  He heard the rustling of me rolling around in bed on his way back from getting a glass of water from the kitchen.  "Hey, you still awake?"

I turned over and sat up.  "Am I bothering you?  I'm sorry-"

"You wanna come play games with me?"  It was an unexpected question.  He never talked much to me so I figured he wanted to keep his distance.

But I still agreed, ending up in his dark room where only the TV cast its artificial light over us.  He pulled up another pillow for me to sit with him, leaning back against the mattress and box-spring stack.  He resumed his game, some kind of RPG with amazing art and storytelling.  The main character had jet black hair and traveled with three other guys of varying talents and personalities.  They seemed to have a great relationship together as they trekked across their virtual world in a fancy car. (1000 brownie points if you know which game i'm referencing)

There was a hilarious part in the game where the crew rode on the backs of these fluffy, yellow birds that were the size of ostriches.  "What's the point of this part?" I asked curiously.

Shigaraki beamed at the screen, his chapped lips spreading in joy.  "It's just something you always have to do in these games."

My eyes remained glued to the screen.  Shigaraki wouldn't ask me if I wanted to play after one time, which I appreciated.  I'm not too good at playing games, I prefer watching other people play them from the sidelines.  I followed the complicated story line, impressed with how fleshed out the world is, the detail in the art, and the power system interface.  If I were better at gaming, I'd understand how amazing it would feel playing it; I was immersed in it even as a spectator.

The game got to a cave-crawling segment.  The eased up voice acting, ambient noise, and dimmed lighting made my eyes heavy.  I didn't want to fall asleep in Shigaraki's room, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep if I went back to mine.

"You can sleep if you want.  Get comfortable."

Though he didn't particularly use a motherly voice like Kurogiri, I understood he was trying to come off the same way.  I ended up laying on my head on my pillow, sprawling onto the floor on my stomach, the noise of the game slowly lulling me off to sleep.  In the morning, I would wake to a blanket pulled over my body.  It somehow became a weekly occurrence; we wouldn't talk to each other, but the silence was comfortable.  It was reassuring that I didn't always need that strange tea to put me to sleep.

.

Late nights with Twice are probably my favorite.  He's like a huge dad, or much older big brother.  I connected with him on a more emotional level than the rest.  If I found myself in the kitchen rummaging for snacks, he'd come up and pick out a bunch and sit us at the table with some tea.

"I have trouble sleeping too sometimes," he admitted, popping some chips in his mouth.  "I was lonely before I found these guys.  I had no one but myself, and the many versions of myself weren't the most forgiving on me either."

I stared down at my glass of warmed milk.  "So your thoughts were actually told out loud to you all the time?" I whispered softly.

"Yup."  He blinked before waving his hands in front of his face wildly.  "But that doesn't mean I had it worse than you, that's not what I'm saying at all!  Your problems are just as valid and important and-!"

"It's okay, I understand."

He offered a sympathetic lopsided smile.  "I know you've been through a lot, kid, and it probably feels like a lot and nothing at the same time.  The times when it feels like a lot will hurt, and that's okay.  You'll get through it and grow up to deal with it in your own way.  And there is a light at the end of the tunnel, believe me.  You can't see it now, but it's there.  Keep fighting through it."  He touched my hand over the glass.  "I'm here for you, we're here for you."

I felt like crying, suddenly choked up by the bitter nostalgia of missing my parents.  "You'd be a great Dad, Twice."  I tried to cover for my tears and unsteady voice by clearing my throat and rubbing my eyes.

He hummed in response.  "I've always wanted a kid.  Things never ended up that way though."

I found myself finally sobbing at his misfortune piling on top of mine.  "That's really shitty actually," I choked out.

He handed me a tissue to wipe my face with.  "Let it out, kid.  Sometimes it's good to just cry it out."

And I did, until I finally sobbed myself to sleep at the table, and Twice picked up and returned me to my bed, tucking me in like the soft dad he should've been.

.

Dabi remained the hard nose one, keeping his distance and looking down on me.  Like Shigaraki, walked by my room while I was tossing around, but he stood over my bed.  "Hey.  If you don't go to sleep, I'm putting you to work."

Put me to work he did, sending me out to fetch him snacks, cards, or cigarettes.  Once, he decided to join me and we ended up on the roof of our abandoned building after coming back from the convenience store.  The stars already dusted the sky as Dabi lit the cigarettes with his blue flames just for fun, watching them disintegrate into ash in front of his eyes.  I never knew how to get him to open up, he's too gruff for me to start a conversation with him, so I stuck to being mesmerized by his flames.

"What's on your mind that you can't sleep, kid?" he finally asked, breaking the awkward silence and cutting off his quirk to stare me hard in the eyes.

"N-Nothing."  I hated to admit it, but I'm scared of Dabi the most.  Both him and Shigaraki can end my life in a fraction of a second, but Dabi overall has the scarier aura.  "Just...thinking."

After a few more moments of braving his stare, he looked up.  "Yeah, we all do that a lot, don't we?  Us damn human can't help but think.  It'd be nice if we can pull the cord sometimes, yeah?"

"I guess," I answered carefully.

He studied me again out of the corner of his eye before flickering back up.  "Do you ever think that's why none of us survive well alone?  We need other people to distract us all the time because then we'd get stuck in our heads, and we all know how dangerous that can be if we're stuck there for too long.  It never ends well."  He adjusts himself, placing his hands behind his head to rest his neck.  "We all got demons, kid.  It's what makes us stronger, but you gotta grow from them first.  And I guess that's what the rest of us are for, so if you need us, you know what to do."

It was with Dabi that I realized he had a point.  I'm not alone anymore and none of the others seem to think of me as a stranger or a stupid little kid they have to be responsible for.  I'm a member of this group now, I should rely on them as support, just not in the traditional way.

How I ultimately ended up here doesn't help any of the awful things I tell myself or what happened to me, but being here definitely helps, especially when I'm surrounded by people who subtly share solidarity with for now.

[mldrgrl]

Careful

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG-13 (for some swears) Pairing: Mulder/Scully Summary: For all you fighting Anons that want Mulder and Scully to be in a fight for some reason.

She is so tired.  So, so tired.  Her feet ache.  Her head aches.  Her spine aches.  Her shoulders ache.  The back of her jaw aches from clenching her teeth.  On loan to Quantico, she’s been on her feet all day, lecturing, autopsying, lecturing some more, autopsying some more.  All she wants to do when she gets home is to pop something quick into the microwave, sink into a hot bath, and then sink into bed.  She tells Mulder all of this hours before she’s even finished with her day at Quantico, so when she walks in her door and finds him waiting for her, the irritability she already feels skyrockets to new levels.

“Dammit, Mulder,” she mutters, dropping her keys into the glass bowl on the table behind the couch.  He’s already by her side, taking her bag from her shoulder and trying to kiss her cheek, but she leans away.  “I told you I wasn’t up for-”

“I know,” he interrupts, nodding profusely.  “I know, I know, I know.  But, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“I don’t want any surprises.”

“Go ahead and change.  Something casual.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’ll like it, I promise.”  He tries to take her hand and she yanks it back with a scowl.

“No,” she says, firmly.  “You never listen, Mulder.  You just never listen.”

“Of course I listen.”

“Do you?  I told you how badly I needed the night off less than three hours ago.”

“I know.  But-”

“No, buts!  I don’t want to hunt aliens with you and I don’t want to visit a haunted house or search for sea monsters or investigate any ridiculous fairy tales, myths or legends.  I don’t even want to hear the word ‘x-file’ tonight, I just want to be left alone.”

He stands in front of her, incredulous, his mouth opening and closing and Adam's apple bobbing like mad.  She’s about to tell him to get out.  To just go home and give her one night to be annoyed and exhausted and call her in the morning, but he sets his jaw and narrows his eyes like he has the audacity to be angry with her and she sets her own in response.  

“You never said you wanted to be alone,” he says.

“It was implied.”  She huffs and crosses her arms.

They stare each other down.  He pushes the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows and then crosses his arms as well.  It’s her favorite sweater too, the dark green one that brings out the green in his eyes.  The one that’s so soft that she can’t help but rub her cheek into his chest when they lie together on his couch.  That stupid sweater makes her lick her lips unconsciously and want to give in to whatever scheme he has going on and that pisses her off even more.

“You always do this,” she says, shaking her head.  “Dammit, Mulder.”

“Do what?”

“This.  Show up where you’re not wanted.  Nag me into following you into places I don’t want to go.”

He purses his lips, but says nothing.  He nods his head and his gaze drifts away before he drops his arms and heads for the door.  She opens her mouth and then holds her breath and fights off the urge to tell him to stop, to call him back and apologize for something she doesn’t feel sorry for.

While she’s not quite sorry, she does feel bad.  She doesn’t want to fight with him, but she told him how tired she was.  She told him she just needed to relax tonight.  And still he showed up, with surprises no less, and left without even a goodbye or an apology.  She stops feeling bad immediately and instead just feels angry all over again.

She hastily yanks her blazer off, tosses it towards the couch, and untucks her shirt from her slacks.  She kicks her heels off, the ache in the soles of her feet even more prominent with every step she takes across the hardwood floor to the kitchen.  She grabs the first Lean Cuisine she spots in the freezer and rips the box open.  The cutlery rattles in the drawer when she yanks it open and she grabs a steak knife.  She stabs her aggression out into the plastic covering of the frozen chicken and rice meal, puncturing it far more than necessary before she finally drops the knife onto the counter with a clatter and throws the sad little meal into the microwave.

She’s startled when she hears the front door open and whirls around, her right hand moving automatically to her hip where her holster would be, if she’d worn one today.  But, it’s only Mulder, bogged down with a picnic basket that he looks like he’s struggling with.  He doesn’t look at her, simply hefts the basket up onto the table, rattling the contents inside, and then walks out again.

Frowning, Scully walks over to the basket and flips open the top.  There are plates and cutlery inside, a bottle of wine, glasses, take-out boxes with the familiar red lettering of her favorite Italian place.  She can smell garlic bread and her mouth waters.  Where did he get this picnic basket from?  Where did he go?

Scully grabs her shoes off the floor and opens her front door.  The elevator doors at the end of the hall are just closing and she catches a glimpse of her partner inside, which is strange considering she’s on the second floor and only a short flight up.  He never takes the elevator.  She hops and stumbles to get down the hall and put her shoes on at the same time.  The numbers on the elevator go up to six, the top floor.

“Come on,” she mumbles, smashing the call button with her thumb over and over again as she watches the numbers fall back to two.  When the elevator arrives, she rushes in before the doors fully open and then she smashes the number 6 until the doors close again and she paces in a circle as it ascends.

Directly to the right of the elevator is the door to the stairwell.  Next to it is a small silver plaque stamped with ROOF ACCESS.  The door is open and she peers inside, looking down towards the fifth floor and then up to the roof.  The outside door is also open.  She hurries up the stairs and spots Mulder near the edge of the roof, kneeling on the ground with his back to her.  She heads towards him, walking briskly.

“What the hell are you doing up here?” she asks.  There’s a folded blanket on one side of him and two pillows stacked on top of the pile.  She can’t tell what he’s kneeling in front of, but the closer she gets, she realizes he’s dismantling a telescope and nestling the pieces into foam inserts inside of a carrying case.

Mulder doesn’t respond or turn to look at her.  He finishes what he’s doing, closes the case he’s working with, and then gets to his feet.  He slaps dirt from his knees and stoops to gather the pillow and blankets before he walks away.

“Mulder?” she calls, following just a few steps behind.

He stops suddenly and she comes to a halt, nearly running into him.  He glares at her, or tries to, but there’s a wrinkle between his brows that betrays the set of his jaw.  He might look angry, but he’s not angry.  He’s hurt.

“What are we doing?” he asks her.

“What?”

“If I’m such an inconsiderate asshole, then what are we even doing?”

“I never said that.”

“It was implied.”  There’s venom in his tone as he throws her words back at her.

“Mulder, I never-”

“Why be with me?  Why lead me on?  Why stay?  Why?”

A wind kicks up and blows her hair into her face which she blows back and shakes her head once.  The wrinkle between his brows grows deeper and his eyes squint nearly shut.  She blinks at him, unable to answer such ridiculous questions.  He turns his back on her and walks away.

She’s slow to follow this time and takes the stairs all the way back down to her floor.  The blanket and pillows that had been tucked under Mulder’s arm are dropped in front of her door, but he’s nowhere to be found.  She kicks them inside ahead of her and calls his name, but there’s no reply.  She stands silently in the same place for a long time.

Finally, she steps out of her shoes again.  Her knees are shaking and she has to hold on to the table so she doesn’t fall.  It’s not from hunger or exhaustion either, it’s from fear.  She’s disturbed and frightened by her argument with Mulder.  This sort of thing was something they’d both feared in taking their relationship to the next level.  If it didn’t work, they would both lose everything.

Scully feels dizzy and her stomach rolls.  She heads to the bathroom and stops when she flips on the light.  There’s a large white towel folded over the lip of the bathtub and a blue plush robe folded nicely and arranged on the closed toilet seat.  A little brown paper bag rests on top of the collar of the robe with a handmade tag identifying it as lavender bath salts.  New candles are arranged along the windowsill and corner table next to the shower.

“Shit,” she whispers.

And it only gets worse when she goes into the bedroom.  More candles are on her dresser.  The comforter is already turned down.  Another towel is spread out in the middle of the bed and there’s a bottle of massage oil on one of the nightstands.  Just behind it, her portable CD player has been moved in and an Enya CD is at the ready.

A laugh bubbles up from Scully’s chest, which immediately turns into a sob.  She sits down at the edge of the bed and squeezes her eyes shut.  She allows herself a full minute to cry and then she wipes her cheeks and picks up her phone.  He doesn’t answer and she doesn’t have the courage to leave a message.

Instead, Scully trudges back to the living room, pushes her aching feet back into her heels as penance, grabs the picnic basket she can barely lift, and heads to her car.  In the time it takes to drive to Mulder’s apartment, she berates herself for her callousness and her carelessness.  When she starts feeling sorry for herself and reminds herself that he isn’t blameless, that he has a history of doing and saying the wrong things at the wrong times, it’s his voice she hears in his head also reminding herself that this wasn’t one of those times.

She knocks on his door and waits just a few beats before letting herself in.  He’s sprawled on his couch, clearly there was no intention of letting her in.  He doesn’t even move the arm bent over his eyes or ask who it is.  The only light is from the fishtank, bathing his chin and torso in an emerald hue.  She leaves the picnic basket and her shoes by the door.

“Mulder,” she says.

He doesn’t acknowledge her.  She picks up the hand resting limply on his abdomen and lifts his arm to slide into her spot at his side.  He doesn’t hold her like he usually does, letting his arm fall away from her and empty fingers that normally are full of hip or thigh dangle loosely above the floor.  She rubs her cheek against his chest and then her nose.  Little eskimo kisses to the point of his v-neck collar.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

He swallows and still he says nothing, still keeps his face hidden under his arm.  She keeps nuzzling him, making her way up his neck to his jaw.  She presses her mouth to his chin, just below his bottom lip and near the corner of his mouth, and gets no response.

“Do you want me to go?” she asks.

“I’d like to know why you even bothered,” he finally answers.

“I overreacted.  It was a rough day, but it’s no excuse.  I should have-”

“Not tonight.  At all.  Why did you bother at all.”

She props herself up against his chest and looks down at him.  She pulls his arm away from his face and he stares up at the ceiling.

“It’s still so new,” she says.  “I haven’t learned yet to determine when you’re being my partner and when you’re being my...boyfriend.”

His jaw tightens a little and without warning, he sits up.  She has to catch herself from falling off the couch in addition to his chest and sits up as well.  He bends over with his head in his hands and then rakes his fingers through his hair and blows his cheeks out.

“Mulder?”

“I’m not two different people.  I am who I am, Scully, and if you’ve never even liked the person I am, then why are you here?”

“Because despite the fact that you piss me off sometimes, you also managed to make me fall in love with you somewhere along the way.”

He grunts a little in response, but says nothing and doesn’t look at her.  She turns towards him and slides a little closer, putting one hand on his knee and the other on his shoulder.  She leans down and rests her chin on her own hand, putting her lips close to his ear to whisper to him.

“I love who you are, Mulder.  I love you for your passion and your dedication and your empathy and your brilliance, even for your stubbornness.  I love all of that about you.”

“Except I don’t listen and apparently I’ve forced you to follow me this whole time into places you never wanted to go.”

“You have to admit...Mulder, you have to admit, you’ve dragged me out into all sorts of-”

“I just thought it was part of the dance.”

“What dance?”

“The dance we do where you feign disinterest in whatever it is I present to you so you can temper my enthusiasm and be the yin to my yang.  You moan and grumble and then you show up.  If you never wanted to be there, why did you keep showing up?”

“You’re my partner.”

“Or your obligation.”

“No, never.  Well…”  She sighs a little.  “Maybe sometimes.”

“Sorry I’m such an asshole.”

“You’re not.”  She takes her hand off his knee and cups his face, bringing him closer so she can kiss his cheek.  “Mulder, you’re not.”

“Yeah, I am.  I’m the asshole that ruined your night.  I should’ve known you wanted to be alone.”

She sighs and rests her forehead against his temple as she strokes the side of his face.  “No.  No, Mulder, you listened to me bitch about the day and what you heard was that I needed to be taken care of.  It’s me that’s sorry I’m so bad at being taken care of.”

“You are pretty bad at it.”

She smiles and he tilts his head into her just a little.  Enough though, that she can tilt her own head and bring her mouth to his.  He’s pouting, but she feels his resolve weaken as she sips tiny kisses from his lips.

“Think you can just kiss me and make it all better?” he asks.

“Can’t I?”

“Yeah.”  He turns to her and wraps his arms around her to pull her into his lap.  She yelps a little in surprise and then brings her arms around his neck.  They stay there, forehead to forehead, chest to chest.

“I am sorry that I missed this up,” she says.

“So am I.”

“No.  Don’t give up on me, Mulder.  I love you for trying.”

“I would never give up on you, Scully.  Not ever.”

“Can I stay?”

“If you want.”

“I want,” she whispers, nodding against him.  “I want nothing more.”

The End

[elladescent449-artspace]

It started with the milk: Chapter 2 - Breakfast and a brawl

Breakfast and a Brawl

Leo awoke to the violent clatter of pots and pans. Despite the stiffness, the sleep was still there with him, desperately trying to drag him back into a dream that he couldn’t remember. When another bang sounded, he turned over with a groan and covered his head with his sheets. The movement triggered a soreness in his shoulders, and he very suddenly became aware of the growing crick in his neck. With another quiet growl he turned over again, trying to alleviate some of the unwelcome aches and pains. He stilled, focussing on the warmth of his sheets and the sound of his own breathing. It was still raining. Aside from the noise from the kitchen he could still hear the blurred whir of New York’s spring rainfall.  Leo heard a quiet boom of thunder and he remembered those quiet noises from the night before, although they were definitely more of a distant hush now that the morning was here. With the adjustment of his body and the warmth of his sheets, Leo began drifting off again. It was slow and comfortably heavy as he sank back into a sleep-like state, he felt warm and comfortable, and he slowly began to forget that he was ever awake in the first place.

Leo twitched at the combination of a heavy slam accompanied by a shout. It ripped him into a sitting position and he groaned, forcing himself out of bed and taking his blanket with him.

--

Mikey was already dressed for the day, and by dressed, Leo meant that he was out of pyjamas and wearing his favorite belt. Mikey’s phone was leaning on the cereal box and was plugged into a pair of earphones that trailed into his head. He multitasked eating his cereal while watching a video, swinging his legs cheerily as he giggled on whatever was on screen. He noticed Leo and removed one of his earbuds.

“Good morning, Leo!” He said with a smile. Mikey watched as Leo trudged into the kitchen.

Leo’s voice was a barely coherent mumble, “m’rnin.”

The source of this morning's clammer was found not too far from the door, where Raph had squeezed himself halfway into the bottom cabinet. He was on his knees and surrounded by an explosion of pots, pans, plastic tupperware, and glass and metal bowls.As Leo carefully stepped through the mess, Raph noticed him.

“Oh, hey!” Raph shot up too fast and hit his head on the top of the cabinet with a bang that was even louder than the ones Leo had woken up to. He rubbed his head and excited the cabinet with a glowing smile, “morning Leo.”

Leo replied with a grumble as he walked past him. “What are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for that Lou Jistsu ‘Hot Soup’ bowl that dad was using the other day, y’know, the red and yellow one?” 

Leo yawned, “you mean the really big one or the one the size of a shot glass?”

Raph used his hands to illustrate the size, “the REALLY big one.”

Leo shuffled further into the kitchen, “why do you want that?”

Leo blindly opened the fridge and reached for the juice bottle, he grasped it by the neck but pulled up too hard, sending his hand rocketing into the top of the fridge. Someone had put the empty orange juice bottle back in the fridge. He turned to Mikey who gleefully sipped at the last of it. With a sigh he chucked the empty bottle into the garbage. Dad’s teakettle was still on the un-lit backburner so he shuffled to the stove, slid the kettle forward, and cranked on the heat. 

“Okay,” Raph started, “so I was watching Lou Jitsu’s ‘Lou Jitsu’s Soba Showdown’ and Lou eats that 25 gallon bowl of Soba to gain the trust of the Mafia leader, before doing a double betrayal and defeating the bad guys, remember?”

“I recall,” Leo was feeling peppermint today so with another yawn he popped open the box and took a packet, (he was getting low on the mint, might have to put that on the next grocery list). 

“Right,” Raph’s excitement grows, “so I’m gonna do that.” 

“Meet up with the mafia??”

“No, eat the Soba!”

“25 gallons?” Leo exclaims as he returns to the fridge and takes a lemon from the drawer. “Of Soba?” He cut it open with a knife that was already on the counter and squeezed some juice into the mug.

“Yeah!” Raph dives back into the cabinet and another few bowls slip out onto the floor. “So I need to find that bowl, because it’s the biggest one we’ve got.”

“Wait,” Mikey interjects as he removes one of his earbuds again, “Raph, what are you looking for?”

“The Lou Jitsu bowl!” The set of copper bowls falls from the cabinet with a ringing clang, bummer, those are Dad’s favorites.

“Which one,” Mikey asks, “the really big one, the cereal one, or the one the size of a shot glass?”

Raph sticks his head back out from under the cabinets, “cereal one? We have a Lou Jitsu cereal bowl?”

Mikey takes a bite of his cereal, “yeah!” 

“Where?” Raph asks.

Mikey chews a bit before answering, “I’m using it.”

Leo turns to Mikey as he rotates his bowl, sure enough, white and red flames with a cartoonish picture of Lou adorn the dish.

Raph gasps, “how long have we had that?”

Mikey swallows before taking another mouthful of cereal, after a brief pause he answers with a smile, “a while.”

Leo tuned out of the next part of their conversation when the kettle started whistling behind his shell. He turned and quickly switched the stove off. He carefully poured the boiling water into the prepared mug and set Dad’s kettle back on the backburner of the stove to let sit in case he needed it again.

Raph and Mikey were still talking about bowls as Leo began his walk towards the table. Raph had retreated back into the cabinets to continue his dig so Leo bent down quietly and picked up one of the smaller glass bowls before shuffling over to sit across from Mikey at the breakfast table.

“Why can’t I find this bowl?!” 

“The cereal bowl?”

“No!” Raph shouts from the cabinets, “the really big one! Soba Showdown!”

“Oooooh!” Mikey draws the word out with a mouthful of cereal as Leo starts filling his own bowl with breakfast flakes.

“Raph,” Leo loosened the sheets around his shoulders as he became more comfortable with the temperature of the room. The left-over exhaustion from last night was starting to wear off as he began to wake-up. “Are you sure you’re even looking in the right cabinet?”

‘ “This is the bowl cabinet! Why wouldn’t it be in the bowl cabinet?!” Raph’s frustration was rising.

“I keep this bowl in my room,” Mikey had turned off the screen of his phone at this point. He wrapped up his earbuds and took the cereal from Leo to refill his own bowl. “Maybe Dad has it?”

“No, I asked Pop’s last night and he said it was in the bowl cabinet,” he hit his head on the inside of the cabinet again and growled, “with the bowls!”

“What are you looking for?” Leo turned his head as Donnie walked into the kitchen. He was awake and alert, holding a coffee cup.

“Good morning, Donnie,” Mikey took the milk before Leo could use it, “Raph’s looking for the Lou Jitsu bowl.”

“The shot glass or the big one?” Donnie walked over to the coffee machine and detached the pot to refill his mug.

Mikey, Raph, and Leo all said in unison with varying degrees of energy, “the big one.”

“It’s on top of the fridge.”

Leo, Mikey, and Raph all looked to the top of the fridge, where a massive bowl with red and white flames sat filled with potatoes and onions. Donnie sat at the table next to Mikey and took the milk before Leo could grab it, quietly pouring a little in his coffee. 

Raph took a short stack of the largest bowls from the ground and skipped over to the fridge. When Donnie finally sat the jug down, Leonardo grabbed the milk before anyone else could take it and poured it over his cereal. With the milk finally added, he took a few bites. It was Mikey’s favorite too-sweet, marshmallow and wafer bargain-brand cereal that he always asked Dad for. Leo picked up his tea and took a sip to check the temperature, it was still really hot but not painfully so. The lemon and peppermint came through nicely so he took a deeper sip.

Donnie sat his mug down with a smile and pulled out his phone. Mikey zeroed in on the cup.

“Are you drinking choccy milk?!” Mikey squealed.

“What?” Donnie was caught off guard at the sudden, loud question.

“You’ve got chocolate milk?!” Raph shouted from the fridge, trying to balance the large bowl (still full of potatoes and onions) on his shoulders as he took it down.

“No!” Donnie sighed, “you just saw me pour the milk, Mikey, it’s coffee.”

“Aw~” Mikey sighed and plugged his earbuds back in to continue watching his video.

Leonardo took another bite of his cereal and chewed for a few seconds. Donnie took another swallow from his mug, keeping his eyes on the screen of his phone. The night before was a blur. Leonardo remembered waking up exhausted and really wanting to go back to sleep. Messing with Donatello was fun for a million reasons, but this morning, as he sat across the table from him, his cereal was sitting uncomfortably in the bottom of his stomach. Leo picked up his tea and took another sip, eyeing Donnie as he did the same with his own drink. “When did you start putting milk in your coffee?”

Donnie's eyes flicked upwards, “hm?”

“You’ve always taken your coffee black,” Leo took another bite of cereal and looked at the mug in Donnie’s hand, it was the same mug as the night before. With the kitchen lights on he could see it was a purple mug with a picture of Atomic Lass on the side. “When did you start adding milk?”

Donatello put down his mug and attempted to focus back in on his phone, “uhh, just…” he started typing something. “I don’t know… recently?” 

Leo smiled, “what happened to ‘I like my coffee to be as black as my soul.’” Leo deepened his voice at the soul coffee line, teasingly chuckling at Donnie who was looking at him now. He looked confused, studying Leo with an expression that Leo couldn’t recognize on his brother’s face.

“When did I say that,” he scoffed, “milk and coffee go great together.” Donnie swallowed audibly as he finished the last of what was in his mug. He set the cup down again and kept typing on his phone. Leo took another bite of his cereal, he was getting close to the bottom of his bowl now, but he wasn’t as hungry as he usually was so he didn’t think he’d be going for a second bowl. Mikey chuckled with a mouthful of cereal and Donnie looked up again, first at Mikey but then back to Leo with furrowed brows. “Why do you care?”

Leo stopped chewing, “I don’t, I just…” he wasn’t done chewing but he swallowed to clear his mouth. It stuck to his throat. “Making conversation?” Leo picked up his tea and swallowed, trying to move the cereal down. Donnie made another face that Leo didn’t recognize, it still had the inquisitive nature but more… suspicious?

Donnie looked hesitant, picking up his mug again to take another sip before he realized his cup was empty, “I mean, it definitely tastes better.” He left the table, breaking eye contact as he walked towards the coffee machine. 

There was suddenly a small stone forming in his stomach, it wasn’t heavy, but it was there. Leo adjusted his shoulders and sat up trying to get comfortable again. ‘Donnie’s a lot more tired than me,’ the little voice in his head rang. That’s right! Donnie was up before and, supposedly, after Leo had woken up last night working on that secret thing. He must have been drinking coffee non-stop and needed a little change to the bitterness. Leonardo’s tea was room temperature now and he greedily swallowed the rest. He sat the cup down with a loud tap just as Donnie sat down.

He didn’t take the milk this time.

Mikey stood abruptly with a satisfied “wew!��� He had finished his cereal and his show, and with a quick stretch he left the table. 

Donatello slowly took a mouthful of his coffee, noticeably trying to stifle the grimace that forced itself on his face as he swallowed. Leo stared for a moment, ‘he’s drunk his coffee black since we were 10,’ the small voice whispered, ‘all those fluorescent lights must’ve killed his taste buds’. The reasoning wasn’t as confident.

Leo had to look away when Donnie’s eyes shifted to him with that bitter-coffee-scowl, it wasn’t Donnie’s, ‘you’re annoying me, brat,’ look, it was resentful and reserved, and it caused a density that reached across the table. Leonardo took another bite of his cereal but the weight in his stomach only deepened under his brother's unfamiliar gaze. He wordlessly pushed the milk towards Donnie.

“I got the bowl!” Raph bellowed, appearing behind the table and holding the themed movie bowl above his head. The dense gaze was immediately alleviated as Donnie was pulled away from the stare of his own making. Leo sighed in relief as Donnie took the milk and unscrewed the top.

Mikey put his bowl in the sink, “Raph, why do you need a Lou Jitsu bowl the size of a bathtub anyway?”

“He wants to try and eat 25 gallons of Soba.” Leonardo leaned back in his chair, using his knee to pry away from the table. With the gaze lifted, Leo put on a smile as he directed his information to no-one-in-particular.

Donnie looked up from his mug as he finished filling it to the top with milk, “I’m sorry,” exasperated, “25 gallons?”

“Of Soba,” Leo’s smile widened, “yeah.”

“That’s an awesome idea Raph!” Mikey cheered, “now how do you make Soba?” 

“Uh...:” Raph paused, “I was just gonna, y’know, buy it from somewhere.”

Mikey scoffed, borderline offended, “you were just gonna buy soup?”

“Yeah?” Raph mumbled, his voice starting to sound confused.

“No. No no.” Mikey continued with the tone of refusal in his voice escalating, “no no no no no.” He whipped out his phone in a dramatic fashion and started typing. “This is a Soba. Showdown. Challenge.” He pulled up an image and Leo had to lean out of his chair to see the LED picture. The image was a human lady sitting at a table surrounded by empty bowls in a restaurant, headlined “Woman eats 300 bowls in 17 minutes.” Mikey showed the image to Raph and then Donnie, who was showing little interest as he dove into his own phone. “We are gonna make our own Soba.”

“Mikey,” Donnie sighed, “you don’t know how to make Soba.”

Leo chimed in, “hey, he can probably figure it out.” There was a tinge of sarcasm in his voice, but it wasn’t full hearted. Mikey was, afterall, a better cook than any of them. Japanese cuisine wasn’t exactly his forté, but he was pretty killer with Italian.  “And he’s right,” Leo added.

“About what?” One of Donnie’s eyebrows rose with the question.

Leo pointed to Raphael, “Raph, is this really a soba eating challenge?”

“Uh,” Raph hesitated for a moment before he answered excitedly, “yeah! Yeah it is!”

“‘Hot Soup’ is our catchphrase,” Leo picked up his bowl and drank the milk from it, setting it down with a loud tap before he finished his sentence with a refreshed sigh, “as much as we talk about soup we should be able to make our own.”

“Yeah!” Mikey shouted, “what he said!” 

“Yeah! Except…” Raph deflated as he set the bowl down on the table between the four of them, Leo had to sit up straighter to see over the bowl, it was ridiculously large. “We don’t even know if we’re going to like Soba.”

“What are you talking about,” the familiar rasp caught Leo by surprise. “You boys love Sansai Soba.” Splinter walked into the kitchen with a hearty yawn as he passed his boys, skipping the breakfast table and walking directly to the fridge. It was unusually early for him to be up, his normal wake up time was closer to noon.

“Sorry pop’s,” Leo chuckled, “but we’ve never had Soba.”

“Yes you have.”

“What’s Sansai Soba?” Mikey inquired, walking over to lean on the counter.

“You’ve had it,” Dad pulls out a leftover Panda Express box, hopping onto the counter close to Mikey with a pair of chopsticks.

“Uh, no Dad,” Donnie looked up from his phone as he brought his mug close to his face, “we haven’t.”

Dad popped open the box, mixing up the contents with his utensils, “yes you have.”

“Yeah,” Donnie muttered under his mug as he took a sip, “pretty sure we’d all remember something like ‘Sansai Soba’.”

“Dad, when did we have it?” Raph questioned.

“Mm,” their Dad hummed thoughtfully, a smile creeping in as he searched through the brain fog to find the answer, “Red, you were about… five years old?”

“Oh, yeah,” a scoff erupted from Leo, “like we’re gonna remember that!”

“Eh,” Splinter remarked.

Mikey repeated himself, still curious, “Dad, what’s sansai soba?”

“Sansai Soba is a soup,” Splinter took a bite of cold noodles, talking with a full mouth. “It’s made with mountain vegetables, buckwheat noodles, and dashi stock.”

“We ate that?” Raph said in disbelief.

“Surprisingly,” Dad swallowed, “yes.”

Mikey crossed one of his legs as he leaned closer, “where’d you get it from?” 

“I made it.”

“You can’t cook.” Donnie said matter-of-factly.

“I can too,” Splinter retorted, rising out of his wake-up haze at Donnie’s comment, “I cook all the time!”

Mikey teasingly chuckled, “putting chips in a bowl doesn’t count, Dad.” All four brothers laughed at that while Dad only scowled with a facefull of noodles. Most of the time Dad didn’t use a bowl, he would just eat an entire bag by himself.

“You know nothing!” Dad spat, “I will show you!”

“You’ll make the Soba?” The wonder in Mikey’s voice was hopeful and full of excitement.

“No,” Dad sat the box on the counter and slid off, “we will be making it.”

Mikey gasped, “yay, family time!”

“Count me out.”

“Yeah i’m good.” Donnie and Leo spoke at the same time, but they weren’t heard over the excitement from Raph and Mikey. Raph had picked his massive bowl back up and both he and Mikey eagerly followed their father out of the room, leaving the pile of bowls forgotten on the kitchen floor.

Leo’s bowl was empty now, and he was out of tea. He leaned back in his seat and looked to Donnie, who quickly looked away from him and back to his phone as he sipped at his coffee… with milk.

“Not eager to put your chef skills to the test?” Leo teased, an awkwardness had resettled now that the two other brothers were gone.

Donnie looked back to Leo and was silent for a moment before smiling with his response, “no more than you.” 

Leo chuckled as he stood, taking his dishes with him to the sink. He loaded his things into the dishwasher (including his cup from the night before) and walked back to grab his blanket.

Leo could hear the taps of Donnie’ finger pads against his phone as he typed. Leo rolled his blanket into a messy ball as the weight in his tummy returned. “Are you okay?”

Donnie stopped typing and looked up, not really moving as his eyes lifted to Leo. There was a wary uncertainty as he answered. “Yeah?” He took a long sip as he stared thoughtfully, “why do you ask?”

Leo didn’t take too long to answer, the pauses were getting monotonous, “just asking.”

He left the kitchen but felt Donnie’s eyes on him as he walked. It was uncomfortable as he felt holes being bored into the back of his neck. When he entered his room Leo threw his blanket on the bed. He could still hear Raph and Mikey talking to their Dad in the living room, but the details of their conversation were obscured by distance and action movie noises. Leo sighed and stretched as he circled his room. The soreness in his neck and shoulders were finally fading into afterthoughts from the movements, he felt a lot better after eating something, but the rock in his stomach from the breakfast table hadn’t left. If anything, it was heavier now, and it grew larger and more uncomfortable the more he thought about the interaction he had with Donnie. There wasn’t anything in particular wrong but it just felt… unfamiliar? ‘Remember,’ the little voice repeated, ‘he must be really tired.’ It didn’t help it’s own case though, because it kept repeating images in his head. The way that Donnie’s face contorted when his tongue touched the black coffee was so unfamiliar, the flickering eye movements were not something that his twin did, the ‘why do you care?’ was too hostile.

With a huff he pushed it all aside, the lack of sleep was just making him paranoid and he knew it. Donnie is tired too, he repeated, Donnie is tired too. Leo stood for a moment, trying to occupy his mind with something else. What did he want to do today?

-

This was Leo’s sixth song, and he was on a roll. He didn’t have a perfect score, but he was high in the ranks of Dance Dance Revolution; and by high, he meant he was back in third place. The tired metal and aged plastic creaked under the furious motion of his feet and he began to break a sweat as his score continued to rise. He hadn’t selected the hardest song in the game, he was planning on working his score up and then he’d choose one of the harder songs for last to see if he could get past Mikey’s score. He wanted to beat Raph’s score, but that was a bit of a pipe dream considering how much Raphael loved this game.

They hadn’t had the dance machine for very long in comparison to some of the other arcade games they had collected. This machine in particular the four brothers had only possessed for about a year, and they hadn’t really found a lot of time to play it with all of the action that had been going on in their lives. Raph had the highest score since he enjoyed the game the most, and towered above them all with a whopping score of 4370, and Mikey was second  with a score of 1993. Leo and Donnie, on the other hand, were always switching between third and fourth place. Donnie had held the better dance score for the first month, but then Leo had swiped it during a competitive ‘Pluto the First’ challenge dance, after that, they had kept switching every time they played, neither of them really getting too much of an upper hand. Leo decided to play this when he found himself in fourth place with a score of 620, and Donnie in third with 659.

As the song approached its finale the number of coordinated moves increased, picking up the pace. Leo needed this, after the exhaustion from this morning and his paranoid awkwardness, the dancing was a fantastic distraction from it all. He just needed to get his mind off of it and get his body moving.With one final tap the song finished and Leo sighed in exertion. He took a step off of the pad and bent down to unscrew his water bottle-

“Wow, great score Leo!”

Leo nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden noise, nearly dropping his water in the process. Donnie was there and leaning against the rails of the dancing machine with a look of interest. He was wearing his favorite purple hoodie with the hood draping over his shoulders, this morning’s hostile look was gone. Leo shook off the chill in his spine and played it cool, “why thank you,” Leo bowed dramatically. His score was now 780. Leo took a sip of water before re-capping the bottle and setting it back down to the floor. “I am once again in third place,” he stretched and faced Donnie, a few inches taller than him now thanks to the dance pad, “take that,” he snapped his fingers into a finger gun to accompany the words.

Donatello hummed in response as he looked at the screen. His eyes flicked between the screen and Leo, and for a moment they fell on the water bottle on the floor. A playful grin spread on his face as his eyes narrowed. “I don’t think so,” Donnie leaped over the rail and landed on the alternate pad, “2-player challenge.”  He used the buttons below the screen to select the most difficult song in the game: Paranoia Survivor Max. It was short but it was a beater. “Winner takes third.”

Leo chuckled and scrolled down to the start button for him. “You’re on.” He slapped the start button and jumped into place. 

The screen displayed “HERE WE GO” and Leo only had a quick moment to look at the info tab on the bottom right side of the screen - BPM 290; challenge 16. His current score was displayed along with the info. On Donnie’s side of the screen the same information was displayed with his measly score of 659, and Leo was going to keep it that way.

It started quicker than Leo anticipated (as usual) and they were immediately thrown into the fray. Down up down right down up down left up down up down left. This was the most difficult song in Dance Dance Revolution history, and he wasn’t gonna lose to Donnie this time. Donnie usually lost to him, but it was always close, and he had been getting better every time due to his love of dance. Leo winced as he missed a step, but he wasn’t going to let it get to his head, he was going to get into Donnie’s head. A break in the song (literally half a second) was enough time for him to do a spin before landing on the next combination of arrows, he laughed when he hit successfully and added a bit more flare to his movements with some enthusiastic arm choreography.

“Yo, Bootyyyshaker9000.” Down up right up down up left.

“Yeah?” Donnie replied with a pant, Leo could already feel a sting in his ankles as he continued the ridiculously fast paced dance. 

He’d start with a low blow. “How does it feel to rank number 4 in the dance department?” Leo didn’t dare look at Donnie’s side of the screen, he was already missing a few points and he wasn’t going to lose anymore by looking at someone else's arrows.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” their steps were almost in sinc, “last I checked, I was the better dancer.” This morning's pestering weight was dissipating in the activity. This was Donnie! The dance, tech, and Atomic Lass loving dork that had some pretty sweet moves when he wanted to. Leo could hear the smile on his twins face as he was enjoying this too, it had been too long since they had competed like this, they should do it more often. It made him laugh.

“Ha!” Leo did a few key steps, “you call that dancing?” He was going to win this round “You rely too much on a machine, brother, this is dancing!”

Leo began exaggerating his movements, building up kicks and adding a few more spins as he pumped up the energy. Not everyone gets tired when playing DDR, but man, he was starting to feel it. It didn’t matter though, his score was high and he felt good. He did another spin and looked over his shoulder as he did the dance backwards. He heard Donnie emit a sound of frustration as Leo kept up with the movements. Leo laughed and switched back, it was a show-off move but nothing he could do for long.

They were getting close to the end, Leo could tell because he had watched Raph play this song a hundred times (that was an exaggeration, maybe six times, because this song was too crazy to do a hundred times.) He waited for the last move, where he spun again and dabbed at the last step.

Leo let off a sigh of exhaustion and put his hands on his knees as he panted. 442 points! Not marvelous, but perfect in the eyes of DDR. “Take that Don-” 120. Leo did a double take. Donnie’s score was only 120. Donnie was panting but he wasn’t nearly as tired as Leo. Bootyyyshaker9000, the guy who danced with Atomic Lass in times square, who was able to beat Mikey in DDR’s butterfly dance (but no other song and it was only that one time because it was Mikey), who always came close if he didn’t beat Leo in a double challenge, was sitting close to fail in the score system.

Donnie had his hands on his hips, faking exertion. “Wow, you sure beat me-”

“Donnie are you okay?” Leo cut him off. The rock dropped back into his guts as he stood up straight, coming to eye level with Donnie.

“What?” Donatello looked confused.

“If somethings wrong, you can tell me,” Leo continued as he took a step closer to Donnie, “are you feeling sick or something?”

“Uh... No, I'm fine,” he chuckled, albeit a bit uncomfortably, Donnie chuckled.

Leo continued. “Is it insomnia?” He took another step closer, now on Donnie’s side of the pad. He knew that sometimes Donnie experienced insomnia, the family wasn’t sure if it was chronic or just because of how much coffee purple always consumed, but when he did get insomnia, he got it bad. “You were up pretty late last night.”

Donnie scoffed with a wavering smile, “so where you!”

“Yeah, but you stayed up! It’s okay if somethings wrong, Donnie,”  Leo put a hand on his arms, “just tell me.”

Donnie shoved Leo’s hand off, his voice rising. “I’m fine!”

“I don’t think you are!”

“I’m fine, Leo!” Leo took a step back at the shout. Donnie wasn’t looking at him now, but he was glaring uncomfortably as his eyes darted around trying to find something to focus on. Donnie flipped his hood on and straightened with a sigh. That weight was growing uncomfortable in Leo’s stomach, so he picked up his water bottle and took a chug to try and drown the feeling. It didn’t help. 

“Can I have some of your water?” He didn’t know why, but the request put goosebumps on his skin. Donnie hated backwash, he was the guy who would just buy you a drink if you asked for some of his own, and Leo was already halfway through the cheap plastic bottle. Donnie held his hand out expectantly.

With a brief hesitation, Leo put the bottle in his hand wordlessly, stepping off the dance pad as his brother took a few swallows. He didn’t feel like dancing anymore, or maybe he just didn’t want to be in the same room as Purple.

“Thanks, here,” Donnie smiled awkwardly as he reached the water back towards Leo.

“You can have it.” Donnie’s smile dropped into a blank stare and it sent a chill down Leo’s shell, “i’m not thirsty right now.”

Leo left the room, but neither the chill, the goosebumps, or the weight left him as he could feel a stare tracing him as he walked.

[c4pricornc4ts]

Who Would Ever Want to be King? Chapter Two

Read chapter one on tumblr here or read both chapters on ao3 here!

Tubbo meets a moobloom, Tommy is kind of an asshole. 

At some point Eret must've dozed off because he wakes up to Tubbo almost on top of him and poking him gently, blue eyes framed by messy brown hair looking down at him.

“Good morning?” He laughs before leaning forward to check on a still sleeping Tommy. The sunrise was starting to fill the room with golden light, he hoped it wouldn’t wake the injured boy. Head injuries always lingered, at least the side effects do.

He replaces the bandages on Tommy’s forehead while Tubbo watches apprehensively. He was bouncing slightly which was shaking the bed.

“That can’t be good for Tommy” Eret murmurs, before deciding he needs to get Tubbo to stop. “What’s on your mind?”

The boy stops bouncing, he freezes like a deer in headlights. “I don’t know?” He tilts his head and looks apologetic about it.

“What do you think about breakfast?”

“What about Tommy?”

“We’ll make him some too.” The king walks over to the door, turning to wait on Tubbo to climb down the bed and join him. Both were still in their pajamas, but that could be fixed later.

They decide on pancakes, Tubbo insisting on getting all the ingredients out himself. Except the eggs. Eret didn’t want to clean up a dropped egg right now. Or ever really.

Tubbo’s watching Eret mix everything together, his head pressed against the wood and his arm laying across the table as far as he could reach. “Where do you get all this? It’s not exactly like you have a market around here.”

“I farm for myself. It’s not too difficult to feed one person.” He puts another pancake on the stack and pours one more.

“Will we make it difficult?” He whispers.

“Not if I put you two to work.” He waits for Tubbo to complain at even the mention of work but the boy seems completely nonchalant and just plays with his sleeve.

By ‘work’ Eret means feeding the cows and collecting eggs from the chickens. And even though the definition of ‘work’ for a kid raised in the middle of a war must be a lot more dangerous and draining, Tubbo doesn’t argue at all.

“I don’t think Tommy can do much yet.” He sits up in his chair as Eret brings over two plates of pancakes and a jar of syrup.

“You’re right. Which is why me and you will go out today, Tommy needs to rest.”

“What will we do?” He’s eating very messily but he supposes they could talk about manners a different day. For now he just hands him a dish towel.

“How do you feel about mooblooms?”

Tubbo drops his fork and yells with excitement. Eret flinches at the noise but smiles nonetheless.

After Tubbo brings Tommy a slightly smaller portion of breakfast, (As Eret was fairly confident he wasn’t going to be up for eating today and just didn’t want to tell Tubbo no to giving his friend something.) They head through the wooden door that leads to the courtyard.

He calls it a courtyard but really it’s much bigger than a courtyard and houses a lot of animals and plants. He tries to keep it at least a little nice, evidenced by the hyacinth hanging from the columns. They were all the same deep blue color, and everywhere he could hang them he did.

Tubbo walks right up to the cows who have free range of the yard. Eret lets him play around with the dandelion covered cow as he knows that she wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“What’s her name?” Tubbo calls to him from where he’s getting water out of the well.

He picks up the bucket, pouring the contents into the watering can. “They don’t have names Tubbo.” He doesn’t mean to sound so blunt but he’s pretty inexperienced with people.

“Well I think she looks like Daisy. Can we name her that? Please? I think she’d really appreciate it if she had a name.” He has his arms wrapped around the cow’s neck, and his head is buried in her side while she eats grass like nothing is happening at all.

Eret decides not to comment on the fact that it’s a bit silly to name a cow covered in dandelions a different flower name. It didn’t matter that much anyways, and he’s gotta admit, she does look like a Daisy. “Sure, I like it, ‘Daisy the Moobloom’. Now can you go get some hay for them? She and her friends need to eat too.”

He points to the bales of hay in the back of the cow’s shelter and Tubbo hurries to get some. Eret finishes watering all the flowers and is moving on to the crops and Tubbo is laughing as all the cows surround him trying to get some hay when they’re interrupted by a door opening.

“What are you two doing without me? I don’t want to be alone anymore. It's really, really boring.” Eret looks up to see Tommy leaning over his bedroom balcony, his blond hair covering most of his face as he looks down.

“Tommy, you fell! You’re supposed to be bored because if something exciting happens and then your head will hurt again!” Tubbo shouts up at him, on his tiptoes as if that’ll help his voice carry.

Eret thinks Tubbo’s voice didn’t need any help, the boy was very polite but he was also very loud. He’s thankful the boy is though, or Eret might not have found them in the woods.

“My head is fine!” He whines dramatically.

“I really don’t think it is Tommy, you were bleeding and shit.”

“Language!”

“Sorry Eret! You were bleeding and STUFF.” He corrects himself.

Tommy runs back inside and moments later is out in the courtyard himself. Eret’s impressed he found the door that quickly, but who knows, maybe Tubbo had explored the castle after Eret went to bed last night.

“You really should rest Tommy, you were out cold last night.”

“I don’t need another adult in my life telling me what to do. If I wanted that I would be with Wilbur still.” He brushes past Eret pointedly knocking into his shoulder.

“Well, if your head starts hurting again you tell me okay?”

“Whatever.” Tommy dismisses him before going and trying to jump the chicken fence, keyword trying. The blond seems to go still and doesn’t even try to finish pulling himself over. Eret drops the watering can and rushes over to catch him.

“Alright that’s it you’re going back to bed.” Eret drags him to his feet and leans over to support the boy’s weight.

“No I-I’m fucking fine y-you bitch.” The king bites back a smile at the boy’s weak attempt at an insult while concussed. He supposes he should be more upset with all the attitude he’s been shown but really, it’s worth having some company.

They keep walking towards the doors back inside, and Tommy keeps digging his heels in the grass and trying to turn back. Looking at Tubbo like he’ll never see the other again. Eret sighs, he wasn’t heartless enough to separate them if Tommy was going to look that broken about it.

“Tubbo, I’ll finish up out here. Can you go sit with Tommy for a bit?” The boy looks so happy with the animals he really hates taking him back inside. But he had a feeling Tommy wasn’t going to stay in the bedroom unless Tubbo’s there too.

He passes Tommy to Tubbo carefully since Tommy was a bit taller than his friend. “I don’t need to go inside. You’re being ridiculous.” He argues the whole way but never once tries to stop Tubbo physically. Eret supposes the arguing was more of a defensive thing.

Eret finishes up with the animals and spends the rest of the day checking the castle over after the storm last night. He goes in before dinner and prepares the room next to the one Tommy and Tubbo have taken over. The whole time he doesn’t hear a word from the other room. Hopefully they’re both resting and haven’t just run off.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s done that. And Eret can’t really think of why people do, he’s really just trying to help.

He washes their clothes and tries not to fall asleep when he hangs everything up to dry. The sun had been mostly covered by clouds, making the whole castle overcast. Maybe he should go out and buy some lights. The problem is that would mean finding a market, which means finding a village and villages well, those have people. More people than the king wants to be around.

He starts a fire under the stove, it’s perhaps a little early to start dinner but who’s counting? He reaches for the steak he has stored away but pauses when he remembers how enamored Tubbo was with the mooblooms.

Chicken it is then.

“Don’t you ever get tired of only blue flowers?” Eret jumps and turns around, holding out a wooden spoon. He sets it down on the counter next to him when he sees it’s just Tubbo. He had to get used to extra people. Or Tubbo had to stop coming up behind him. They both make a mental note to work on it.

He turns back around, stirring the contents in the pot. “Do you think they look bad?”

“Well, they look nice really they do! It just feels… sad.”

He wants to just tell the boy that’s the point, they’re supposed to be sad. But he can’t bring himself to talk about it.

“I saw pink flowers in the woods, I could plant them here if you want.” Tubbo sounds hopeful, trying to pass off wanting pink flowers as something for Eret only.

“I’d love that Tubbo. But not tonight alright? If Tommy sees you out there he’ll want to go too.” Tubbo makes an excited noise behind him and climbs the counter to Eret’s right. Leaning over the pot to look inside. Flinching when the steam hits his face.

Eret covers the pot and nudges Tubbo away, worried his hands would get burned. “It’s chicken and vegetables, I hope that’s alright.”

Tubbo nods quickly, and sits further back on the counter. Content to be near the stove fire as it gets colder in the castle. And the king is perfectly happy to have company. Even if said company almost falls off the counter several times before the soup is done.

Tubbo keeps talking about what he wants to name every cow as Eret pulls out a ladle and dishes out three bowls of the chicken soup. Placing them on a plastic tray before interrupting Tubbo’s rant. “We’re going to eat with Tommy, I need you to knock for me okay? My hands are... “ He tilts his head towards the tray in both his hands. “full.”

“Can we eat on the bed?”

Eret nods and laughs and starts walking up the castle steps towards the bedroom. Tubbo knocks on the wooden door. “Tommy? We brought dinner, are you awake?”

“Go away.”

Tubbo exchanges a confused look with Eret and tries to open the door. After a few attempts, they realize it’s locked. Eret didn’t even know his door still did that.

“Tommy please? What about me?” Tubbo sounds a little hurt that his friend would treat him so harshly especially without any reason.

The door unlocks with a click and is opened just enough for tiny hands to grab Tubbo by the collar of his shirt and yank him in the room. Tubbo squeaks in surprise and the door slams right in Eret’s face.

Eret keeps staring at the door, confused at what just happened when the door opens yet again and Tommy grabs two of the bowls before dashing back inside. He hears Tubbo whisper through the door. “He said he doesn’t wanna eat with a grownup. I’m sorry Eret but you fit that criteria I think.”

Well, he guesses he’ll go eat alone. Not like he hasn’t done that before.

Neither boy comes out of the room the rest of the night, so Eret tells them he’s next door before just settling in for the night. His books we’re all in the occupied room so he opts to just go to bed early.

For the second night in a row, he’s woken up by a scream. He watches as someone throws his door open and then slams it closed, leaning their whole body against it and panting heavily. The king sits up and tries to wake up enough for his eyesight to clear. “Tommy?”

“P-please don’t let Wilbur take me. I’m sorry I’m such a-an asshole.” The boy’s voice wobbles, and he sounds like he’s about to cry.

The words prompt Eret to jump out of bed and go pull Tommy away from the door. He wants to say it’s a bad dream but if the blond was this scared, maybe Wilbur really was here.

He remembers Wilbur being a good man, a leader who always had photos of his son and talked about his brothers from a different realm often. He never thought anyone would be closing doors in his face. Though, he never thought he’d betray his country either.

He sets Tommy on his bed and checks the hallway. There’s no one out there. It must have been a nightmare. He feels his arm being grabbed and turns back towards the bedroom to a very nervous Tommy trying to get him back in the room.

He obliges and closes the door, figuring out how to lock it tiredly while Tommy clung to him.

“Tommy, no ones out there. And even if there was, you’re safe here. I wouldn’t let anyone take you.” He’s holding the boy, surprised that he’s not being pushed away or sworn at.

“What about Tubbo?”

“I'll protect him too.” He confirms, gently carding his hands through the boy’s messy hair. Something he remembers people doing to him long ago.

“I’m sorry.” He says between sobs, and Eret just keeps whispering “It’s okay.” back.

They stay standing together like that till Eret is too tired to hold them both up and sits up against the headboard with some difficulty since Tommy does not want to let go.

Tommy is only occasionally sniffling when Eret starts to drift off. Barely even noticing the bed dip when Tubbo goes and curls up next to the pair.

Eret wraps an arm around Tubbo too before finally going back to sleep.

[jay-m3]

Death Note x Male Reader

Warning: read at your own risk. Will contain smut, manipulation, homophobia and so much more.

The class is so boring! I already know English, ugh… You sighed, watching as the teacher goes on and on about God. You look at the book in front of you and trace over the letters to keep you busy. “Listen to the voice of God then follow it and know that in time you will find your salvation.” The teacher reads the line that you're tracing. If God was real...will people change their behavior? You thought, shrugging your shoulders. You’ll find out once you're dead. “Yagami, are you still with us?” You look over your shoulder to see your best friend being called out. “Can you please translate the following sentence into English.” You cover your mouth to hide your snort and quickly look back to the book, not wanting to be called out. Light is smart, no question asked but sometimes you always see him in la-la land these past couple of months. He might be going through the stage like every teen has where they are stressed and anxious about what to do next with their lives since this is their last year here in this dump. Like you! Your anxiety has risen since you don’t know what can come next and if you can make it in this cruel twisted world but thankfully, Light has got your back and has been helping you sort out your life. 

You want to do that too with Light but...he never lets you in. Even if you were best friends since kids, it’s hard to get the boy to talk about his feelings. You know that it isn’t the ‘what’s next in life’ since you know that he wants to be like his dad in joining the police. If it’s not that then what’s bothering him? Is it about his sexuality? He came out to you three months ago that he’s bisexual. It’s hard to accept your true self and sometimes figuring out what you like and are is very difficult. Nothing is easy. Hell, when you came out to Light a year ago, you thought that you were Pan or bi. It’s been rough but you finally know that you’re gay. It’s hard when you came out to Light but you put your trust in him and now you're glad you did since he was accepting and he also came out to you! 

___

“What is that big brain of yours thinking about?” You gave your toothy smile at the tall brown-haired boy. “Huh? Oh nothing, just hungry.” Light smiles at you, his hand rubs his stomach. You nod your head and point at him. “You got it! I’ll buy us something in the cafeteria then, be right back.” You take out your wallet and start to make your way to the cafeteria. You will do anything in your power to make him happy as much as he makes you happy. Quickly getting the food you run to Light who puts something in his bag. “Hey, whatcha got there?” “That was fast, (Y/N).” He says grabbing the chips and water bottle that you got for him. “Hey, don’t distract me. I see you be sneaky and I want in! Is it money?” You both make your way out of the school gates. “Oh, I just found a notebook. Nothing special.” “Bet. Must be someone’s dairy...is it mine?” Light laughs at your joke and shakes his head. “I’ll show you when we get to my house.”

___

“You should start learning how to drive Light. I can’t be your taxi all the time.” You lock your car once Light and yourself get out. “Not my fault you turned 18 first.” ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t sweat it. It’s probably the one thing that I can beat you with, Mr. smartass.” You both walk into the Yagami household. “I’m home!” Light calls out. Both of you head to Light’s room and you shut the door and look over to Light to see him take out a notebook with ‘Death Note’ written across it. “Okay, that’s something else.” You say sitting down on his neat clean bed. “Yeah, wait till you know what it says inside of it.”

“...if someone does write a name in that book, does that make them a murderer?” You ask rereading the text carefully, flipping the pages. “No way. Either way, it’s probably a dumb prank.” You nod, giving back the cool looking notebook and grab your bag. “Welp, I gotta go home. I have to be there before my mom chews me out for not taking out the trash this morning.” You say, giving Light a hug. 

___

“Tell your family I said hi.” You called out to Light who nods and closes your car’s door. You watch him get inside and start making your way to your work. It’s nothing special but you love it since it's self employed and you love the outdoors. You get out of your car and park it and make your way to a customer’s front door. Knocking, you can hear a dog barking inside and the owner trying to shush it. You smooth down your shirt when the door opens and you see a female with a German Shepherd on a leash. “Hi, here is Lady and I’ll pay you once you return her like always.” She smiles and gives you the leash. “Like always.” You repeat and start making your way to the next house. Being a dog walker has it’s up and down like any other job. But being around the animals gives you peace and watching people go up to you to ask if they can pet them always brings a smile to your face. It’s nice having human interactions other than your family and the Yagami family. Having six dogs always overwhelms you but it gets you paid well. Stopping in front of a shop that has TV's stacked on each other with sound. You unzip your bag and pull out two water bottles and four plastic water bowls, once you get the dogs settled down, you look at the TV's to see that it was the news. 

"The same assailant who attacked 6 people at a busy shopping district in Shinjuku yesterday has struck again, taking 8 people hostage at this daycare center. His captives include both children and teachers. The police have now identified the suspect as 42-years-old Kuro Otoharada, currently unemployed. We expect negotiations to begin immediately." 

Wow, I wonder how this is going to turn out. You tune in more.

"At the present time, that’s all the police are telling us." Newscaster 1 informs.

"You can’t help but feel concerned for the safety of those hostages." Newscaster 2

"You’re absolutely right. We’ll continue to monitor the situation from here." Newscaster 1

"Thank you for that report. What do you make of this, Mr. Hashimoto?" Newscaster 2

"Well, one can only hope for a quick resolution to this situation." Mr. Hashimoto

I hope everyone turns out okay…

"Wait, we’re seeing something here! Looks like there’s movement at the front entrance!" Newscaster 2

"The hostages are coming out, and they all look to be unharmed! The Special Forces are taking action; they're moving in! We don't know if the suspect's been arrested. Huh?... Yes?... Ok, we now have confirmation. The suspect has been found dead inside! I repeat the suspect is now dead!" Newscaster 1 informs. 

“Oh, shit…” You mumbled out, watching on. The whole thing intrigued you but you snap out of it when the dogs start pulling you away. All you could think about how karma bit him back. What a coincidence, really. 

___

You quickly dodge other students from left to right. You’re sure you're not late for cram school because you set the timer on your radio earlier so you can meet up with Light but like always, you’re a little behind in time. Light wanted to talk to you, and said it’s important. ‘ASAP’ his text read which he only uses with you since your ass knows English. Finally seeing the door to your classroom, you sigh in relief and quickly get in, which was a bad idea since you bumped into one of the schools bully, Sudou. You instantly recoil in fear but kept your head held high. “Sorry.” You mumble out, not even looking at him, even if he cursed at your stupidity. One of the advantages of being best friends with the top student that’s also popular with everyone is that no one really messes with you and acts all buddy with you to get a chance to speak with Light. It’s a curse and a blessing. 

You make your way to Light’s desk since the class hasn’t started. You stood in front of it with a sheepish smile when you noticed that he watched the whole commotion. “If he dies, will anyone miss him?” Light mumbles to you which has you scrunching your face in confusion. That was a weird quest-OH! The notebook. Snorting you play along. Leaning close to his face, you whispered, “You shouldn’t kill people you know. You’ll get busted for sure.” Light doesn’t say anything. You don’t say anything. A second goes by and you both start to chuckle. Your (e/c)  eyes catch his brown eyes and there’s a glint of life in them. Oh, how you missed that special look. It’s been a while. Your face is close to his… You could feel the warmth rising on your cheeks. Your breath falters and the speed of your heart increases. You knew that you have a crush on Light. You don’t know when it started, you just embraced it. It’s stupid really, you know that Light will never see you like that so you never opened your heart to him. The crush was big but now you can easily ignore it since you trained yourself to quickly exterminate feelings for one. It’s just part of being gay. Falling for people that you shouldn’t. Finding someone else gay is an accomplishment, finding someone that’s gay and have feelings for them is amazing and rare. Especially here in Japan but hopefully it will get better. You only had one relationship with a guy and that was the hardest to maintain since your both were closeted. You’re still in the closet sadly, you want to tell your mother who you really are. 

Light Yagami, the boy that befriended you when you moved here. The boy that found you heartbroken when your ex-boyfriend dumped you. The boy that excepted you when you came out and also told you he’s bisexual. The boy that was there for you when your father and brother got murdered. The boy...Why is he getting closer? Light leans close to your ear. His hot breath tickling your exposed skin which sends a shiver down your spine. “It worked.” His voice low and raspy, which gets your blood pumping when he tries to whisper-wait. “What worked?” You stood straight, tilting your head in confusion. “Kurou Otocharada.” He says which has you reeling back in memories of today and finally connected the dots from the man that died to the conversation you two have been talking about. Your mouth instantly dropped and you look at Light wide-eyed. His eyes bore into your soul like he’s expecting something, your reaction of course. You know that he knows he reads others well by what he knows. He knew you for years and he knows how you react from stuff that he imprinted in his head. This is no different. “How...I want to see.” You slowly say. He was about to say something until the teacher walked in. “Everyone, sit down in your seats.”

You tapped twice on Light's desk with your forefinger. A sign that you both came up with as a secret code for; later, yes, be quiet and your favorite, I’m so gay. The last one, of course, is from you. Light only agreed because it amused him when you both go somewhere and get served by a hot dude when you both decide to eat out. You went to your assigned seat and glanced at Light to see him tap his own forefinger twice. You guess it's either later as conformation or to be quiet. Quickly, you turn your attention back to the front. Light already knows you, you know what Light expects from you. Of course, you will be quiet. 

___

“I’m still in a space in my mind where I can’t believe it.” You say, walking next to Light to a convenience store. “To be honest with you, I’m the same. I need to know if yesterday was a coincidence or not.” Light sighs out, slowing down his pace since your short legs can’t keep up. You can’t help but swallow a lump in your throat that just formed. Is he really thinking to use that thing to actually see if it’s real? If it is then, what’s next? You look at Light from the corner of your eyes and breathe in a shaky breath. Light trusted you by letting you know what he thinks happened yesterday. He trusts you, you should trust him also. “Same.”

“Hey, baby where are you going?” You and Light both glance at a man on his motorcycle with his peers bothering a woman. Light nudges you to the door and you quickly walk in. You split from Light to go to the chip aisle and guiltily pick out your chips. You wish you can help that lady out but the guy has his gang around him. Even if one person steps up, no one will follow. That’s how bad the world is. “Takuo look out!” You quickly look up and see a truck hitting the guy that was molesting the girl at full speed. You gasp and drop the chips and make your way to Light that was standing in front of the magazine aisle. You look over at Light to see his surprise and shocked face. His hands gripping the Death note. Your heart dropped and your breathing came out labored. 

___

“What a nice surprise! I wasn't expecting you home so early.” Light’s mom greeted her son once he stepped into their house.  Light smiles at his mom, the memory of (Y/N) having his family car for the night instead of his mother came to mind. “Yeah. Hi mom, it’s because…huh?” When his mother extended her hands, Light knew what she wanted. “Oh, the results of the nationwide exams.” Light pulls his bag in front of him to fish it out. “I’ve been waiting all day.” She says, excited to see what her brilliant son brought to the household. “Here. (Y/N) says hi by the way.” Light gives his exam scores to his mother and starts making his way to his room. “Goodness! Number one again! These are the highest scores you’ve had. Is it because you started to study with (Y/N) so much?” His mom asks, even though she knows the answer. The last couple of days (Y/N) spent so much time with Light to study and she would hear them, more like (Y/N), laugh. “Yeah. I'm going to study in my room so please don't interrupt me, ok?” Light says, heading up the stairs. “Where is (Y/N)?” Light turns to his mother and tells her, “He took the car to cram school and his mother called she was needed in the hospital for a shift so she needed the car fast.” And with that, he went inside his room and locked the door. 

He immediately grabs the Death Note, grabs a pen and starts writing names down. For a while, he stops and starts to examine the names he has written and starts to laugh. He can’t believe he holds something so surreal. “You’ve taken quite a liking to it.” Light looks behind him and instantly yells and falls down when his eyes meet with a monster. “No reason to act surprised. I am Shinigami, Ryuk. That used to be my notebook. Judging by your laughter, you've already figured out that what you have is no ordinary notebook.” Ryuk, the Shinigami says, watching the human in front of him stand to his full height. “Shinigami, God of death, huh? Well, I’m not surprised. In fact...Ryuk, I’ve been waiting for you.” Light gets up from the floor. “Oh?” Ryuk gave a surprised face, watching the human with interest. “I've already figured out that this Death Note that I've found is real. It didn't take me long. And now that I've witnessed the proof of its power, I only feel more confident in what I'm gonna do.” Light says, taking in the Shinigami in. He never has seen a God of Death. “That's interesting. I certainly wasn't expecting this. Several Death Notes have made their way into the human world in the past, but you're the first to have written this many names. Look at how many people you’ve killed in only five days. Most are reluctant to write this much.” As Ryuk says this, Light is thinking of a male that has pointed out many things about the Death Note. ”I've already prepared myself, Ryuk. I used the notebook even though I knew it belonged to a Shinigami, and now that Shinigami has come. So what will happen to me? You're here to take my soul, right?” 

“Hmm, what do you mean? Is that some fantasy you humans came up with? I'm not gonna do anything to you. The notebook becomes part of the human realm from the very moment it touches the earth. In other words, the notebook is now yours.” Ryuk explains, looking at Light Yagami's lifespan. “This...is mine?” Light asks, surprised that the Death Note is starting to get his life more interesting. “If you don't want it, just give it to someone else. But if you give it away, I'd have no choice but to erase your memories of the notebook.” Light scoffs in his head, who will give up a Death Note? Even if he did, Light knows no one to carry out his plans. (Y/N) might be a choice if Light was there to push him. He knows the other male will follow his lead. “So, then, you're saying I can use the Death Note all I want and I won't be punished?”

“Let's just say this, you will feel the fear and pain known only to humans who have used the notebook. And when it's your time to die, it will fall on me to write your name in my Death Note. Be warned, any human who's used a Death Note can neither go to heaven nor hell for eternity. That's all. Now you have something to look forward to after you die.” Ryuk laughs at the end, knowing well how humans have died. A knock sounded behind the door to his bedroom and Light let out a confirmation that he heard the other person. “Light?” His mother calls him. Light looks at Ryuk to try and figure out how to hide the 8 foot Shinigami. Apparently, Ryuk saw the annoyed look that the human had on his face. “It’ll be alright. Answer it.” Ryuk eggs on, watching as Light slowly makes it to the door. “What is it?” Light asks, making sure that the door isn’t open enough to see the death god in his room. 

“I thought you'd like some apples the neighbors brought them over for us. Why on earth is it so dark in your room? You'll ruin your eyesight.” Light looks over his shoulder in surprise. What’s going on? Mom can’t see him? He didn’t say anything, just grabbed the basket of apples from his mother and shut the door. He places the apples down and sits down on his chair by the computer while watching the shinigami examining the apples. “That notebook you found originally belonged to me, and since you're now using it, you are the only one able to see me, and of course, my voice can only be heard by you. In other words, the Death Note is the bond between Light, the human and Ryuk, the Shinigami.” Ryuk takes a big bite out of the delicious smelling fruit. “Yum.” He says, tasting the juices exploding in his mouth. Light looks at the notebook that was on his desk. 

“I just have one more question I wanna ask you. Why was I chosen for this?” Light looks back at the tall figure only to see Ryuk shoving down more apples down his throat. “Hey, are you even listening?” Light’s jaw clenches. “Apples in the human world are worth the trip. What's the best way to describe these? Juicy?” Ryuk mumbles out, more to himself. “Just answer my question.” Light asks, well more like demands. Scoffing, Ryuk looks at the human, “I didn't choose you. Don't you see? This is all just an accident. You actually thought you were chosen because you're so smart or something? Don't be so vain. It just happened to fall around here, and you just happened to pick it up. And that's all there is to it. That's why I wrote the instructions in English, the most popular language in the human world.” “Then why did you drop it in the first place? You even wrote down specific instructions, so don't try telling me this was an accident!” 

“You're asking me why? I did it 'cause I was bored.” Ryuk answers, not bothered by the human’s anger, more like amused. “You were bored?” Light deadpans, bothered by the shinigami's truth. The mind of the human racks for an answer but all in all, boredom leads to two different things. Happiness or depression. “The truth is Shinigami haven't got much to do these days. Most of the time we're either taking naps or gambling. If you take the time to write names in your Death Note, the others just laugh at you for working so hard. Even if you wrote the name of another Shinigami, it'd be pointless because they wouldn't die. And since we live in the Shinigami Realm, it brings us no amusement to kill those in the human world either. So I figured I'd have more fun if I came down here myself. Anyway, I'm surprised at how many names you've written, but I wanna know why you only wrote the cause of death for that guy who was hit by the truck.”

“If you don't write down the cause of death, the victim dies of a heart attack, and that's probably the best thing about the Death Note, Ryuk. You see, I've already exhausted the list of the world's major criminals, and eventually, I'm going to get rid of them all.” Light answers the Shinigami, not only for the guy that was hit by the truck but for all the names that he written down in the Death Note. “What's the point of doing that?” Ryuk questions, eating all this information up in his mind. “It's only a matter of time before people figure out that these criminals are being eliminated by someone. I want the world to know of my existence. That there's someone passing righteous judgement on the wicked!” Light can feel excitement pass through his body once more. The adrenaline kicking in. “Why even bother? What are you trying to achieve by passing judgement on them? I mean, why do you care?” Ryuk questions further, who knew watching a human do something passionate be so entertaining? “Because… I've been bored too. I wasn't ready to believe it at first, but it's obvious now. There's something about the Death Note itself that makes humans want to try it out at least once.” Light starts to have memories of all the times he just watched people do horrible things. How a boy by the name of (Y/n) got bullied because of his race. 

-Flash back after Taruo’s death-

He remembers how (Y/n) pulls him out of the store and into an alleyway. His mind whirling with thoughts. His body was in a state of shock of not only just the guy that was harassing the lady but also the guy that was holding hostages. “I killed them both. I really… I killed two men.” He mumbles out, leaning on (Y/n) for support. “I...it worked.” (Y/n) mumbles out, disbelief written on his face. “Those were human lives, Light! You can go to jail!” (Y/n) gasps out, letting Light lean onto the wall behind him so he can ground himself. It won't be overlooked. Besides, who am I to pass judgement on others? Uhh… no, no wait. Maybe I'm wrong. This is exactly what I've been thinking about lately. Light thinks, looking over at a shaking 18 year old. “This world is rotting, and those who are making it rot deserve to die.” Light says, getting the attention of the smaller male. “What are you talking about Light?” “Someone has to do it, so why not me?” Light straightens out, catching his breath from the adrenaline coursing through his body. “Light, this is…” He can see the other thinking it over. Can see the fear in his eyes. He doesn’t want to see that. “You're sacrificing your mind and soul!” (Y/n) whisper yells, looking at the alley's exit, in case someone hears. “It’s worth it.” Light spits out, watching the fear of the older decrease. “Because the world can't go on like this.” Light ends the conversation, watching the fear clear from his friends eyes and something new awakens Light when the fear gets replaced by amazement. 

-Flash back in the classroom-

I've wondered… what if someone else picked up this notebook. Light scans the room, watching teens his age talking to each other. Is there anyone out there, other than me, who would be willing to eliminate the vermin from the world? If I don't do it, then who will? His eyes land on his childhood friend who gets up from his seat and makes his way over to Light. The (e/c) eyed male slips a piece of paper on his desk, leaning close to Light so no one can see them. He turns over the paper to show letters that form words. Toki Kark… Realization crosses Light’s eyes and he looks over at the short male in front of him. This person is the one that killed (Y/n)’s father and younger brother.

-Flash back in Light’s room-

Both Light and (Y/n) look at the notebook. Both came in here without any conversation. Slowly, Light picks up a pen and writes down, ‘Toki Kark’. He lays down the pen and both pairs of eyes tune on to Light's watch that you gave him for his birthday. That's just it; there's no one, but I can do it. After a minute passes by, Light looks at (Y/n) who has tears running down his cheeks. The older boy gets up from Light’s bed and gets on his knees in front of Light. Hands gripping Light’s thigh, (Y/n)’s eyes met with Light’s. “Thank you, Light… I owe you my life.” The boy whispers out, bowing at the taller man’s feet. I'm the only one who can. I'll do it, using the Death Note, I'll change the world.

-Flash back ends-

“At first, I wrote the names of the worst criminals I could think of. Like I was cleaning up the world, one name at a time, so that eventually no one will ever do anything evil again. And while the truly guilty ones who deserve to be punished for their crimes die of heart attacks, the people who are less guilty but who still make trouble for others will slowly be erased through disease and accidental death. Then and only then the world will start moving in the right direction. It'll be a new world, free of injustice, and populated by people who I've judged to be honest, kind, and hardworking.” Light explains, closing the Death Note. A shiver runs down his back, remembering how good it felt to see (Y/n) on his knees, hope in his eyes looking at him. No one else, but him. “But if you did that, it would make you the only bad person left.” Ryuk counters, watching a gleam cross over the human’s face. “Huh? I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm a hard working honor student considered to be one of Japan's best and brightest. And I… I will become the God of this New World.”

It's just as I thought, humans are so interesting. Ryuk chuckles to himself. 

[magnoliasinbloom]

Crash Course Love

Infinite thanks to @lcbeauchampoftarth​ and @anna-swims​ for being awesome betas. 

AO3 :: Previously

2: Morning [Jamie]

“Wake up!” a voice hissed in my ear.

Holy shit. My tongue felt as though it was covered in sock fuzz, and my eyes were glued together.  I reached up to rub them open and found my hand brushing against soft, curly hair.

I jerked my eyes open. What the fuck? I scrambled back against a headboard. Where am I?

“Where am I?” I croaked, and my head immediately retaliated. Pulsing, throbbing pain flared up everywhere.

“This is my flat. Care to tell me why you’re here?” Her voice. English accent. The Sassenach.

Claire. Sorcha. Light. From that pub. The one who was cheated on by her boyfriend. I recalled some dancing… and Patron. Lots of whisky and Patron. Fuuuuuuck.

“I… dinna ken?” I pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers, trying to stop the pounding. My hand was rudely smacked away.

“What? Focus! Please, answer this. Are you… are you naked?” Claire’s voice was slightly panicked.

Mary, Mother, and Bride. Had I… did we…?

I wasn’t wearing a shirt, that much I could tell. I reached under the covers tentatively, trying to ascertain whether I was naked. Mercifully, my fingers brushed against the waistband of my boxer briefs.

“Uh, no. I’m dressed. Sort of.” I glanced down at my bare chest. My curly red-gold chest hair stood out starkly in the bright light of her bedroom. Clearly, something had gone down last night. Or someone.

“Shit. Thank you, Jesus H. Christ.” Claire was gathering the bed sheet around herself.

“Wait, are ye naked?”

The light from the window hit her from behind, burnishing her hair into a rich brown. A deep pink blush spread down from her face, across her chest. Was she naked? I could feel my cock stirring and I willed it into submission. Clearly, now was not the time.

“I’m wearing underwear too. You think we—”

“Fuck! I hope not!” I exclaimed. Immediately, her face turned red again, but this time I could tell it was in anger. Then, I realized what I’d said and how it sounded. Blunt again.

“Oh, sweet Bride, I mean, no’ that I… ye’re totally gorgeous, I would definitely want to—shite,” I groaned. Too much thinking for what little brain cells I had left.

“You definitely want to shite?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in mock confusion. At least she seemed mollified by my ranting apology.

“No, I mean, ye ken, not that I’m glad we didna do anything… but I wouldna take advantage of you, but it’s not…” I trailed off lamely.

Claire chuckled softly, shaking her head. “I get it. Sorry. I’m just a little sensitive on that point. Thanks to that arsehole. I, uh, I better get some clothes on.”

“Aye, me too.” I pushed the covers aside, trying to ignore the thumping in my head. I spotted my jeans heaped in a corner, so I pulled them on while I searched for my shirt. I found it, sniffed it. Quite rank. No helping matters now.

I noticed Claire still huddling in the sheet, and I stopped, looking at her. “What?”

“Um, would you mind giving me some privacy? I know we woke up together and all, but I still don’t feel comfortable flashing you.”

Now it was my turn to go red. “Aye, of course. I’ll just… put on some coffee or something.” As she turned away from me, still wrapped in the bed sheet, I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on her right shoulder. It looked like spiraling scrollwork, or flowery vines; it trailed across her shoulder blade and disappeared beneath the sheet covering her ivory skin.

Ifrinn.

I nearly tripped on my way out. My foot caught on something. I shook it off, noticing as I did that it was her bra. Mallaichte bas. I tossed it at her and shut the door behind me.

I looked around as I made my way to the kitchen. The furniture looked very thrift-store-esque, but comfortable. The colors were mismatched, but somehow they fit.

On the walls, there were many framed pictures and paintings. Some photographs were black and white, offset by colorful flowery art. I noticed a lot were missing, the bare spots on the walls and tables glaringly obvious. I wondered where they’d gone.

I couldn’t figure out her coffeemaker, and soon gave that up in favor of a glass of water instead. I called out to Claire who was still in her room. “Do you have aspirin?”

“Here.” Her quiet voice startled me as she came up behind me. She pressed two pills into my palm and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge for herself. “Jason, is it?”

“James. Jamie.” I swallowed them quickly. I could practically feel the water rehydrating my brain. I leaned against the counter while Claire rummaged for food.

“Well, Jamie, I have cereal and cereal,” she said, frowning at the expiration date on the milk carton. “This is still drinkable. I think.”

“Uh, no, thank ye.” This would be awkward enough without a morning-after breakfast. Or was it, technically, since there hadn’t been a… before? I shrugged at myself, quickly gulping down more water.

We sat down at the kitchen table while she tossed Weetabix into a bowl. I grinned at her cereal choice—a little tame for the tequila-drinking tattooed lass. Claire caught me looking at her and blushed.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just… never mind.” I clutched my glass and an awkward silence fell between us, the only sound the clinking of her spoon.

“So,” she finally spoke. She glanced at me and back at her cereal.

“Aye.” I pursed my lips and took a sip of water.

“What do you remember?”

“Mmmphm… tequila. Lots of it,” I grimaced, scratching my head.

“I think I remember… dancing? Did we dance?” she asked skeptically.

“We danced,” I said, nodding emphatically.

“Was I drunk by then? I can’t think of any other way that would have happened.”

“A bit. Ye were past tipsy then, but ye did manage to express certain reservations.”

“No shit.” She glared at her cereal bowl, then stood up to dump it in the bin.

“Och, well, maybe—” I began.

“What the fuck!” Claire exclaimed. She had tossed half the mushy mess inside the bin when she cried out. She picked up the trash bin and set it on the table. She reached in, scrunching her nose.

Claire pulled out a stack of pictures, burned and charred. They were drenched in milk and speckled with soggy cereal.

“Oh, I wondered why there were pictures missing from the walls.” I gestured toward the small living room.

“It’s Frank.” Her voice sounded flat, but I thought I heard a hint of sadness.

“Cheating arsehole Frank?” I asked, taking some of the pictures from her. They were pretty good; the angles, the lighting, it was all very original and artistic. Some featured both Claire and Frank together, laughing or kissing. Others were just him, pensive and brooding. Bloke looked slim and posh. I could probably take him in a fight, I reasoned.

Claire found an empty plastic lighter in the bin too. She frowned. “After we came here, I took these off the walls and you said—”

“That I would help ye—”

“—and we would take out the trash together,” we finished, catching each other’s eyes. I wondered if she regretted what we’d done with part of her memories, before Claire’s face broke out into a smile—the first real smile I’d seen on her face. It was luminous.

“Thanks.” She took the pictures I’d been holding and dumped them in the bin again.

“Anytime.”

[raleighcarrera]

famous

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

an au where raleigh is still raleigh but cadence is an actress on a teen tv drama.

~5.4k words | M (18+)

raleigh tag list: @omgjasminesimone, @choicesarehard

cadence rolled her eyes from the makeup chair, prompting the artist that was working on applying her eyeshadow to let out an annoyed sigh. “sorry, katie,” she apologized, before cutting her gaze over to her co-star, sitting in the chair beside her.

“what’s the big deal?” cadence asked, still not seeing what made today so vastly different from any other day on set. “he’s just a guy.”

jaylen looked like she was about to have a stroke. “raleigh carrera is not just a guy. please don’t ever say that again.” 

cadence snuck a glance at katie, but the older woman only smirked silently as she waved a strip of false eyelashes in the air, waiting for the glue to try. “okay,” cadence started slowly, “i just meant -- that he’s probably like any other guest star we’ve had?”

jaylen scoffed. the set hairstylist finally walked up and started pulling the curlers out of her long, brown hair, running her fingers through it to loosen them. “he is so not. seriously, stop acting like you didn’t camp out all night for sunset skatepark tickets at one point in your life like everyone else.”

she definitely had, but -- “that was, like, a million years ago. i was thirteen. besides, he’s totally different now. i’ll be amazed if he even manages to show up on time today.”

cadence was due on set in an hour, which, if katie could get her eyelashes on in one try, was going to give her just enough time to grab something to eat before her first scene. at this point in filming the show, she was hardly nervous about anything, anymore, even having to film with one of the most famous people she’d probably ever meet -- so there wasn’t much she’d need to do to prepare, except maybe pop a mint before their big scene.

from beside her, jaylen was sulking. cadence watched her in the mirror as best as she could with katie curling her eyelashes. “his visit is totally wasted on you,” she whined, “i can’t believe the writers gave you the kiss.”

“it’s not like i asked for it. besides, rosa --” jaylen’s character “-- and trevor just got back together. it wouldn’t have made sense for it to be anyone else.”

she blinked rapidly as katie backed away, testing the weight of the false eyelashes. they were in the middle of filming the third season of the show, and while her eyes had definitely stopped watering, by now, that didn’t mean that it didn’t still feel a little bit weird, to have so much makeup on all the time.

just a few years ago, she was making smoothies for forty hours each week, barely pulling in enough money to afford her rent. now she was part of one of the most popular teen dramas in the world -- and about to get paid to make out with the guy that literally performed with justin timberlake at the super bowl.

so, life was surreal, sometimes. 

once her hair was set in the waves her character always wore, cadence left jaylen pouting in wardrobe and strolled to craft services, making a bee-line for the breakfast table. she was piling mini-muffins into a napkin when she saw him.

his hair was shorter than she’d expected it to be; when she thought of raleigh carrera she pictured the way he looked on the ‘famous’ album cover -- long hair, dark smile, lots of tattoos. the guy sitting in the chair in the corner of the room was undeniably the same person, but he looked...

hungover, that was the word she was looking for.

raleigh had sunglasses on. inside. he was cradling a cup of coffee in his hands.

cadence gathered up the corners of her napkin and made her way over to him. “hey,” she said, her voice perfectly level -- not, as shane always called it, monday-morning-chipper. “i’m cadence, i’ll be your scene partner today.”

raleigh stared at her -- or she assumed that was what he was doing. for all she knew, he was asleep. she arched her eyebrows at him, and a minute later, he tilted his head, letting his sunglasses slip down his nose. 

sheesh. he was hot. the look in his eyes caught her and pinned her in place. 

“cadence dorian, right?” she nodded, trying not to look too surprised. so -- he knew who she was? he didn’t seem like the type of guy that would be familiar with her work -- this teen drama and a number of big-studio romantic comedies. “my agent said we’re filming romance today. lots of kissing.”

cadence felt her lips spread into a grin. “yeah. i hope you brushed your teeth.”

raleigh let out a bark of laughter so loud that a few of the production assistants turned around to look at them. he was smirking when he said, “don’t tell me chadley fortnum’s got bad breath.”

she gaped at him. chadley had played her character’s boyfriend for the last two years, before the writers finally killed him off. he was an awful kisser. “do you seriously expect me to believe that you actually watch wicked midnight?”

now he was smirking in that way she’d expected. he looked a lot more like the guy from the ‘famous’ album cover. “maybe i catch an episode here and there.”

“this is hilarious. do you also watch gossip girl? riverdale? is your favorite movie fifty first dates?”

he reached up and pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. “i prefer how to lose a guy in ten days.” 

of course he was funny. why wouldn’t he be? it wasn’t like he wasn’t already drop-dead gorgeous and effortlessly cool. 

maybe jaylen was right. she’d only known him for three minutes, and already cadence could see he wasn’t just a guy.

“we should get going, or we’re going to be late. i’ll show you where the soundstage is.” 

raleigh nodded at her and they started walking to set together, him with his coffee and her with the four or so muffins in her hands that she was suddenly too shy to eat. “so,” she asked abruptly, for a distraction from thinking about how handsome he was, “why the sudden interest in acting?”

cadence glanced at him and watched him shrug his broad shoulders. “for the positive pr, mostly. i think my team’s just hoping to generate some headlines that aren’t about something i destroyed, for once.”

she laughed. “fair enough. i guess raleigh carrera guest stars in wicked midnight midseason finale is a lot better than raleigh carrera crashes motorcycle into wildlife sanctuary, kills family of endangered pandas.”

“okay, i would never do that,” he argued, “pandas are adorable. there’s nothing cool about anti-conservation.”

“but there is something cool about breaking into and wrecking a cruise ship?” so -- she read her fair share of gossip blogs. sue her.

“totally,” he confirmed. he drew her eye as he tipped his head back to drain what was left in his coffee cup. “would you believe me if i said it was a statement against capitalism?”

“i think i’d be more likely to believe you if you said you were drunk and bored.” they stepped onto set as the last scene was wrapping, and cadence hung back while production transformed the high school set into the one for rosa’s home; jaylen’s character was supposed to be throwing a house party -- that was where cadence and raleigh would meet.

her eyes scanned the room, but jaylen was no where to be found. “huh.” though her scenes weren’t filming until later today, cadence didn’t think she’d want to miss a minute of time with raleigh. 

she’d forgotten he was still standing beside her. “what?”

“i was just wondering where jaylen is,” cadence explained, “my co-star? she was pretty excited to meet you.”

raleigh turned towards her, then, smirking again. “finally. i gotta say, i was pretty disappointed you didn’t seem more star-struck. you know -- when girls treat me normally, it really hurts my feelings.”

she laughed, leaning over to playfully shove her shoulder into his. raleigh made a face at her as though she’d actually hurt him, reaching up to rub at his arm. “hey, easy! save it for the bedroom.” he looked back towards the set. “or... the fake kitchen counter.”

“cadence?” one of the production assistants jogged up to her before she could form a retort. “we’re ready for you.”

she found her mark in the fake kitchen and started making herself a drink. the extras milled around behind her, and as the director called for action, she wondered what the props team had put together to fill the bottles before her with -- on her birthday, they’d given her a full glass of vinegar disguised as water as a prank, and she’d spit it out all over ryan summers in the middle of a take.

raleigh walked into the scene and strolled right up to her. “hey.” he nodded coolly at the red cup in her hands. “what’s your poison?”

cadence surveyed him from behind the plastic rim as she took a sip. thank god it was just water with food dye in it. “i’m not picky when it comes to free alcohol.”

he pulled a red cup from the stack on the kitchen counter and made a drink for himself. “fair enough.” she watched him flick his wrist to swirl the liquid inside the cup around, mixing it together. “what’re we drinking to?”

cadence lifted her drink into the air, smiling sardonically at him. “to my dead boyfriend. his funeral was on tuesday.” she tilted her head back and chugged until the cup was empty, looking challengingly at raleigh once she finished. “cheerful, i know.”

she stared at him as his tongue poked into his cheek. he was a better actor than she’d expected him to be. “i’m sorry for your loss.”

cadence laughed humorlessly. “don’t be.” she sniffed, rubbing her nose with the hand not holding her cup. “any idiot who drives drunk deserves what they get.”

she chewed on her bottom lip, watching the extras leave the kitchen set. when she looked back at him, his gaze was intense -- it felt like he was staring into her soul.

“i’m jason,” he said, holding out his hand. cadence dropped her gaze to it and snorted, rolling her eyes. 

after a beat, she begrudgingly introduced herself. “lexi. you go to brentwood?”

he smirked at her, pushing the hand she refused to take smoothly through his hair. wardrobe had given raleigh a long-sleeved shirt, but she could still see his tattoos peeking out from under the cuffs. “nah, i’m a senior at p.s. 119. i just come to parties like this one to pass out favors to rich kids like you.”

her eyebrows lifted. with intent, she trailed her gaze up and down his body. “what’ve you got?”

raleigh dug in his pockets and pulled out a medicine bottle. he shook a pill into his hand -- the prop department had found something that looked almost fluorescent, under the artificially dim party lighting. “something that’ll help me cheer you up, i think.”

she shrugged, like it was all the same to her. “you can try.”

one of the cameras moved in for a close up. raleigh leaned in. “you’ll have to come and get it,” he said, right before he laid the pill on his own tongue.

cadence laughed, the sound low and throaty. her eyes dropped to his lips, and then she leaned in, pressing their mouths together. 

raleigh gathered her into his arms as the sweet taste of strawberry candy exploded on her tongue. he pushed the candy into her mouth and kissed her hard, his hands moving swiftly to her hips. cadence responded in kind, winding her arms around his neck and slipping her fingers into his hair, holding on tightly.

kissing him was... nothing like kissing chadley. it was nothing like kissing anyone, it was -- something she didn’t think she could have prepared for, even if she’d tried. already, she knew she’d never forget this kiss for as long as she lived. she was going to spend the rest of time comparing everyone she kissed to him, to this, to right now --

raleigh lifted her easily onto the prop kitchen counter, settling his hands on her thighs. cadence shivered as he stepped in close between her spread legs, the hushed noise of the set around them fading away. she wasn’t acting when he pushed his hips forward against hers and she let out a breathless moan of ecstasy, her grip on his hair tightening so she could pull him closer.

“cut! great work, guys. let’s reset and run it again.”

her mouth broke away from his in a daze. cadence dragged the back of her hand across her lips, breathing hard. raleigh barely looked rattled, but she was struggling to get herself together, staring at him with wide eyes.

he smirked at her. “that good, huh?”

cadence blinked. “what -- i --” she reached out and whacked his shoulder. “shut up.”

his thumbs were rubbing little circles on her bare thighs, where the hem of the denim cut-offs she’d been given ended. his laugh was fond and warm -- it didn’t feel like he was laughing at her, exactly. it felt nice, like they were in on the same joke. “it was pretty good for me, too.”

“just pretty good?”

“guys?” the assistant director was looking at them like they were insane, and cadence startled, remembering they’d been instructed to reset. right. now wasn’t the time to be flirting with raleigh carrera, even though he’d just given her an earth-shatteringly good kiss. she was supposed to be working.

she cleared her throat, scrambling to stand again. raleigh waited a beat before moving away, so there were a few heart-stopping seconds where the full length of her body brushed against his. cadence shot him a look from under her false eyelashes as he slinked away.

they ran the scene an agonizing nine more times. by the end of the morning, her lips felt swollen and raw, and her jaw was tingling from the stubble that dotted raleigh’s face. 

and that wasn’t even to mention her nerves, which were alight and on edge after a seemingly endless few hours spent kissing the hottest guy on the face of planet earth. 

raleigh wrapped an arm around her shoulders as production broke down the set around them. “so, can i buy you lunch? i feel like it’s the least i can do.”

“i bet you say that to all the girls,” cadence hummed, leaning against his side. from across the room, she noticed jaylen watching them with narrowed eyes, a frown set on her face. cadence looked away. “did they set you up with a trailer?”

“yeah, but i bet yours is nicer,” he grinned, “since you’re the star, and i’m the guy who brings property damage everywhere he goes.” he had a point. “want to show it to me?”

cadence wondered if he meant the words as the invitation she thought he did. her pulse was racing. still, she nodded. “definitely.”

raleigh wasn’t shy about looking around when she let him inside her trailer. he seemed particularly taken by her large jar of pink starbursts, which he immediately dug his hand into as she dropped down onto the couch. “woah, okay, diva. you make them sort out the other colors?”

“no,” she laughed, “i tweeted once that the pink ones are my favorite, so -- now they just send them to me.”

he grinned obnoxiously at her as he popped one in his mouth. “aren’t the pink ones everyone’s favorite? you’re not so special.”

“god, i hope you don’t talk to every girl you make out with like this,” she laughed, kicking her feet up onto the table in front of the couch. “no wonder everyone thinks you’re such a dick.”

raleigh laid a hand over his heart, looking wounded. “it’s not everyone. just the MARCs.”

“the marks?”

“M-A-R-Cs. mothers against raleigh carrera.” he said the words with a completely straight face. cadence looked at him skeptically.

“no way is that real.”

“wanna bet?” he pulled his phone from his pocket before dropping down onto the couch beside her. the long line of his body took up an inordinate amount of space in her trailer. “see for yourself.”

“huh. they even have a facebook page.” her eyes drifted from the phone screen back to his face, which was suddenly very close. “i guess you are every parent’s worst nightmare.”

raleigh laughed, staring at her for a long moment before moving away, putting some distance between them. “cadence, you flatter me. now -- what do you want for lunch? you need to carb up for this afternoon.”

she rolled over to the end of the couch, grabbing her stack of takeout menus off the side table and presenting them to him with amusement. “we have to film one scene.”

“yeah, but you’ll be in bed with me. that’s -- understandably, of course -- going to be a lot for you.”

cadence leaned over and kicked his ankle. “the show airs in primetime. we’re just going to be waking up together. it’s all in the subtext.”

“hmmm.” his eyes were on the menus, even as he said, “doesn’t mean we can’t bring it into the... foretext.”

she blinked at him. “i don’t think that’s a word.”

raleigh lifted his head. his eyes were serious and intense when they locked on hers, and again cadence found herself helplessly caught in his gaze. “you know what i mean.”

oh, god. was raleigh carrera hitting on her? 

“um.” her eyes dropped to his lips, which quirked up at the corners as soon as he noticed. yeah. he was definitely hitting on her. raleigh carrera. hitting on her. she wondered what jared from ninth grade, who’d told her she was too ugly to go to homecoming with, would say if he was here. 

presumably tired of waiting for her to try to make sentences, raleigh leaned in and kissed her. not because they were rolling, or because he thought they should run lines for later -- but because he wanted to. 

cadence gasped, leaning back against the arm of the couch. raleigh shifted to lean over her, the takeout menus that’d been in his lap falling to the floor as he moved on top of her and pressed in close. 

since they’d filmed wicked midnight’s pilot, there had been a lot of famous people who visited the set. but she’d never done this before with anyone, and she felt more than a little out of her depth as raleigh’s knees pushed her thighs open so he could grind down against her. 

she felt like she was floating. he was a truly exceptional kisser, and the way he looked at her made her feel more than a little dangerous. if she was being honest, cadence wasn’t entirely sure what he thought he saw when he stared at her like he kept doing, but she was hardly in a position to question it when he tore his mouth away from hers, breathing hard, and started kissing down her neck instead.

her head tilted to the opposite side encouragingly, and her fingers found his hair again. “i thought you had a girlfriend,” she panted, the detail stuck in her mind, for some reason. she’d definitely read about it. she had a ridiculous name. peach? pear? plum? 

“who, apricott?” that was it. “god, no. that’s just for press. and i can’t stand her.”

she did seem pretty terrible. “so why do you --”

raleigh lifted his head. cadence had trouble focusing on the expression on his face when one of his large hands was spanning what felt like the entirety of her side under her costume shirt, his thumb mindlessly stroking the skin beneath the waistband of her denim shorts. “look, i like you. so if you want to do this -- i’ll tell my publicist it’s over.” 

what the fuck was happening? “if i want to... do what?”

he shrugged. he had all the confidence of someone who was never turned down. “hang out. see where this goes.”

well, she wasn’t that stupid. “i -- yeah, of course i do. like -- you mean... date, right?”

for a half-second, it looked like he was going to argue with her use of the word ‘date,’ but then that unreadable look was back on his face. raleigh nodded decisively. “yeah. date.” 

“okay, i think you’re asking me out.” her voice was playful again and her racing heartbeat was starting to calm, her thoughts finally getting back on track. she could fake the same level of confidence he had, right? “in which case -- i totally accept, but... you’ll need to pull out all the stops.”

raleigh smirked at her, his grip on her side tightening before his hand relaxed. “oh, yeah? you want a limo full of pink starbursts? dinner on top of the empire state building? a helicopter ride to a walk on the beach? i’ve heard it all before.”

cadence laughed, running her fingers through his hair. the warm smile raleigh gave her made her heartbeat skip. “oh my god, are those your moves? yes, definitely. i want the full raleigh carrera experience.”

his eyebrows bounced up and down, and he wiggled his hips pointedly against hers. “you sure? it could be a long night.”

the laugh she gave him was breathless. cadence felt unbelievably giddy as she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip and watched raleigh’s eyes narrow in on it. “i’m kinda counting on that.”

they made out until their call time, rolling around on her couch like teenagers. cadence couldn’t remember another time she’d kissed anyone for literal hours before. the way raleigh looked at her, disheveled and wanting and flushed, when the pa finally knocked on her trailer door to call for them, made her want to play hooky and blow off returning to set -- just so they could keep doing this. 

her indecision must’ve shown on her face. raleigh pressed his thumb against her bottom lip and sighed heavily. “you are so, so, so beautiful. i can’t wait to introduce you to second base.”

she laughed. “i have been there before, you know.”

raleigh’s hands slid slowly down her body, full of intent. “not with me.”

the poor pa knocked on her door again. “um, ms. dorian? you’re really needed on set, now.”

cadence lifted her hand to push at his shoulder. “get up, you’re going to get me in trouble.”

his fingers trailed ever-so-lightly over her bare thigh. “what’s life without a little trouble? besides, they literally can’t start without us. they can wait a few minutes.”

her hands moved to his messy hair, trying her best to smooth it back down. “they’re going to have to. we’re going to need another round of hair and makeup. and zadie’s going to kill me when she finds that thread you ripped.”

raleigh shrugged unrepentantly. “it was loose.” the unimpressed look she leveled him with made him sigh again. “fine, goody-two-shoes. we’ll go to set. but you’re in for it, later.”

anticipation sang through her, quick and thrilling. “oh, yeah?”

he groaned and rolled to stand. “don’t start, or i’ll never let you go. come on.”

every eye in the studio followed them when they stepped into the bedroom scene. they separated to get changed, and cadence blushed all over when she traded her nondescript top and shorts for just a bra and panties, prompting zadie to hone her gaze in on the fresh hickey starting to bloom across her collarbone. “i love the commitment. very method.”

cadence stalked off back towards the bed; raleigh was already shirtless and under the sheets, scrolling through his phone. for a moment, she pretended like they were at home in her apartment, and let herself really look at him. he looked good -- great. incredible.

he whistled at her when he saw her. that didn’t help her blush. a few members of the lighting crew laughed, double checking the scene when she slipped into the bed beside him.

katie from makeup came over with powder. she didn’t say anything about cadence’s hickey, even when raleigh very obviously leaned in, pressed his thumb against it and laughed, “oh, shit. sorry about that.”

it would have been a perfect time for the ground to open up and swallow her whole, but they started rolling, instead.

cadence had her back to raleigh, his arm slung low across her waist. lexi was supposed to wake up first, so she did, holding up a hand against the artificial bright light of the fake sun-filled window in her face. she groaned, pressing against her forehead, and then noticed the arm around her and slowly turned towards raleigh. 

her eyes went wide. “jason?”

she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stifle the smile that threatened as raleigh woke up so adorably. he made a soft, sleepy sound of confusion from beside her, cracking one eye open. “lexi. i thought i dreamt that.”

her expression was gentle for a split second before it hardened. she shook her head. “it was just a one-time thing,” she insisted brusquely, pulling away. “i was drunk.”

“you weren’t that drunk.” 

cadence was pointedly not looking at him. “we were high.”

raleigh laughed. “that, i’ll give you.” as she moved to get up out of the bed, his arm swung out and grabbed her, holding her still. “hey.”

she looked back at him expectantly. raleigh was great at acting nervous, swallowing hard while his eyes darted around the room. “can i see you again?”

cadence shook her head. “i don’t think so.”

“why not?”

“because... i’m a mess, jason. look at me. i deserve to be alone.”

“lexi...”

she shook her head, pulling out of his hold. raleigh let her go, and she started moving around the set by the bed, picking up the pieces of her outfit. “forget it.”

he slid to the edge of the bed, sitting on the mattress in just his briefs. both she and her character were trying not to stare. “you know, for what it’s worth... i don’t think you’re a mess. i think you’re pretty cool. and you’re -- you’re going to be okay, lexi.”

her lips pursed. her voice wavered when she said, “you don’t even know me.”

raleigh stood, crowding into her space. “actually, i think i know you better than you think. so that’s why... i’m okay with saying goodbye.” his eyes searched her face. “can i kiss you one last time?”

cadence drew in a shallow breath and nodded. raleigh cupped her face in his hands, holding her jaw steady, and kissed her hard. she had to actively fight the urge to pull him closer, knowing that lexi was still resistant to letting him get close -- but it was hard, when raleigh was such an expert kisser, the movement of his mouth against hers making her weak in the knees.

she was almost relieved when the director called, “cut! that was great, guys. we definitely got it. raleigh -- thanks for coming out, man. awesome stuff today. hopefully we can have you back soon.”

he reached out and ruffled her hair, grinning brightly. “only if you keep sticking me with this one.” cadence elbowed him in the side. “seriously, thanks for having me. this was really cool.”

zadie was holding out a robe for her. cadence reluctantly stepped out from raleigh’s body heat and put it on, smiling softly at the way he pouted when she tied it closed. 

he stepped up close and lowered his voice so none of the many, many people moving around them could hear. “so, are you done for the day? can i buy you a drink?”

“ooooh, are we going out for drinks?” somehow, jaylen stepped up between them, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “hi, i don’t think we got a chance to meet, yet. jaylen riaz -- i play rosa martinez.”

“...right. good to meet you. i’m raleigh.”

jaylen laughed as though he’d just made a funny joke. “of course i know who you are, silly. do you think i live under a rock?”

raleigh’s eyes were begging for help. cadence leaned in between them. “you should totally meet us when you’re wrapped for the day. i’ll text you where we wind up, but -- first we need to grab some food.”

“right.” raleigh’s lips twitched. “we skipped lunch.”

the memory of what they’d been doing instead threatened to make her blush, but cadence fought it off, wary of the way jaylen was looking back and forth between the two of them. “okay,” she said finally, her voice slow and thoughtful, “sounds fun.”

fortunately, they made it back to her trailer before she lost it, dissolving into giggles. cadence leaned her back against the closed door as her shoulders shook with laughter. “god,” she grinned, “you are such a dick.”

“me?” raleigh demanded, “what about you? you should totally meet us.” 

“okay, i do not sound like that.” cadence dropped her robe and started getting dressed in the clothes she’d wore to set that morning, what felt like a hundred years ago. “and i was just being nice. she totally likes you, she’s going to be so pissed at me when she finds out this is, like, a thing.”

“i guess i am irresistible,” he sighed, expertly ducking the t-shirt she threw at him. “i can’t fault her for her good taste.”

“it’s amazing your ego even fits in here.” she reached for her purse, pulling out her phone. she’d hardly looked at it all day, and it was alive with activity -- her manager had texted her about... forty-five times. cadence scrolled down to the bottom and saw the message that started it all: what’s this i hear about you getting cozy on set with raleigh carrera? sure you want to go down that road?

she grimaced. “let me guess,” raleigh said, cutting through her thoughts, “someone doesn’t want you getting messed up with me.”

cadence hesitated, her non-answer an answer on its own. he dragged his tongue across his teeth. “it’s really up to you, though, isn’t it?”

it was. “yeah,” she nodded, “and i don’t care about any of that, anyway. are you sure i’m not causing trouble for you? what about your fake girlfriend?”

he rolled his eyes. “she’ll get over it. as long as you’re okay, i’m okay.”

she smiled. “i’m okay,” cadence confirmed, “whatever happens -- i can handle it.” the look he was giving her was difficult to decipher, but she thought he might be pleased. she hesitated. “you’re... sure you want to do this, though? it’s okay if you just got caught up in the story.” 

“uh, hello? i already slept with lexi d’agosto, remember?” the obnoxious grin he was wearing softened at the sight of the expression on her face. “cadence, i’m sure. i like you. i want to hang out more -- see where this goes. you’re the one i should be double-checking.” 

“no way.” she gestured for him to follow her out of her trailer, into the film lot. “you’re not going to get out of giving me the full raleigh carrera experience. i don’t care what it costs you to buy out the empire state building.”

he laughed, his hand finding hers to link their fingers together. “i think you’ll change your tune after the blogs get wind of this, but -- fair enough.”

eventually, they reached the security gate. she’d have to walk them out into the street to find the car that was waiting for her, and if her manager had already heard the rumors sparking from their day on set, that meant that it was likely a few photographers had, too. once they left the film lot, there was no going back.

raleigh squeezed her hand. “ready for your life to get messier?”

things had been awfully predictable, lately. “definitely. ready for yours to get more awesome?”

“oh, absolutely.” together, they started off down the street. camera flashes exploded behind her eyelids, but she kept her head down, fighting a smile all the way to the car.

at least whatever happened next was bound to be interesting.

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Ch5

Chapter 5: The Kitchen Catastrophe

Bansha remained silent as Morro ranted and raved in the privacy of the carriage. He had lost whatever grip he had on his temper as soon as the carriage started taking them back home. Morro looked ready to kill somebody, most likely Lloyd.

"That insolent little brat! How dare he insult me!"

"Lloyd or Kai?" Bansha spoke out of turn, something she instantly regretted when Morro's scowl turned on her.

"Lloyd, of course! If it wasn't for that little brat or their ugly sister, I'm sure Kai would be mine by now! Doesn't he realize those two are the ones who are holding him back?! I could give him anything and yet he still refused me!" He ranted, clenching his fists in rage. "I mean, how naïve can he be? What must I do to persuade him to pop the question?" He scowled critically. Bansha could only shake her head. Morro was without a doubt a prodigy, but he lacked the most obvious common sense.

Kai was a dreamer, it didn't matter how rich Morro was or what society deemed appropriate.

He wouldn't chase Morro like everyone else. No, he was chasing the foolish dream of finding true love. A frivolous illusion of course, but nevertheless Kai believed it. Bansha had no doubt Morro would never have his 'precious darling' unless he convinced him to love him. Something she knew would never happen. She knew Morro well enough. The duke always got what he wanted.

"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Bansha spoke aloud and Morro's attention turned to her. Bansha hadn't meant to speak out loud but Morro could tell she was only curious. "I mean, you could have anyone you wanted, yes, Kai's beautiful, but personality-wise, he's the complete opposite of the man you want; why do you keep chasing him when you could have people so much more charming, obedient, and wealthy! You're the Duke! You're wealthy, well-educated, people throw themselves at your feet every day! You could replace Kai in an instant! Why do you waste your time with him when you could have anyone else?"

Morro chuckled darkly, a crackling sound that would make even the bravest of hearts shiver in fear.

"You've just answered your own question, Bansha." He smirked. Everything she said was true of course. Kai's appearance was in every inch the way a fairy tale prince was supposed to look, but it was his personality that needed work. Kai was perfect, but he was too brazen, too wild. He needed to be tamed, and he was the only one to do that. After all, as a Duke, he needed not only the perfect partner but also someone who would never challenge his authority.

In business or in bed.

"Because I can have anyone else."...

****************

The enormous landscape surrounding the Smith home was a sight to behold. A wide golden field and stables with a large pond in the corner bordered on two sides by woods and a house large enough for a large family flew by, unnoticed by its two youngest occupants as both Kai and Lloyd bolted across the yard and up the stairs to their house. Both ran surprisingly fast for all the bags they were carrying. Then again, it was Nya who was in the kitchen.

That alone was cause for alarm.

Both practically broke the door down, causing more smoke to erupt from the house. Lloyd batted the inky wisps away and coughed harshly before Kai found him something to cover his mouth with.

"NYA!" Kai howled, furiously, before stomping towards the kitchen, with Lloyd behind him. "GOD HELP YOU IF YOU'RE IN THE FUCKING KITCHEN!" He warned as both brothers dropped the books and groceries on the dining room table and stormed inside. The kitchen was still intact, but the smoke was everywhere, pouring out the open windows now that it had an escape. Huge spots of soot and ash covered the floor, the counters, and the stove which was wheezing smoke.

The wood from the old-fashioned brick stove had burned itself out leaving only ashes.

The bowl on top of it was covered in ash and looked even more charred than the inside of the hearth. Nya, the younger twin, was on the floor, coughing and wheezing, covered from head to toe in thick soot. Her midnight black hair tied in a ponytail was the only thing dark than the soot as her stunning blue eyes seemed to light up her face. Her tanned skin was revealed through the ripped jeans. When she stood to her full height in an attempt to brush the ashes off her, she stood a few inches shorter than Kai.

She also had a small beauty mark on her right cheek.

Even in her ripped, paint-splattered jeans and the light blue shirt she wore when she painted or invented and hiking boots caked in oil, paint, and covered in soot, Nya looked ravishing.

"Nya," Kai said dangerously low with a clearly angry smirk on his face as he glared down at Nya on the floor. "When Dad said you were never allowed in the kitchen again, what made you think he was joking?"

"You two were late." She replied, crossing her arms and trying to look as casual as possible.

"We're always late! That doesn't mean you have the right to try and burn down the kitchen! AGAIN!" Lloyd scolded. "What did you do this time? Forget to take the plastic off?" He asked and Nya's eyes widened guiltily, assuring them both that was exactly what she did. Despite being an excellent painter and even better inventor, Nya wasn't so good in the kitchen. That's why cooking the family meals was Kai's job. The eldest Smith sighed and smacked his forehead.

"Nya, you can't cook to save your life!"

"Doesn't mean I can't try!" She smirked, rubbing the soot off her cheeks. "At least I didn't burn anything." She mumbled. Both brothers glared at her referring to the black soot covering the kitchen. "You know what I mean." She snorted, ego deflated a bit. "What took you so long anyway?"

"We stopped at the bookstore, and Dr. Saunders found Kai's writing."

"That's it?" Nya raised a cool eyebrow in disbelief. She knew full well that her brothers could live at the library if given the choice but even they always came home on time.

"We ran into Morro on the way back," Kai growled.

"That explains it." She rolled her eyes. "What did he want this time?"

"Same old shit he wants every time," Kai replied, tossing a bag into Nya's lap, which she hesitantly caught in her surprise. "Help us put the food away otherwise no one's eating until breakfast." He ordered. Nya was on his feet in an instant, her stomach winning over her pride.

"You should've seen his face when he thought Lloyd insulted his!" Kai chuckled, making their little brother blush. Nya only blinked in surprise before grinning.

"Well hopefully after next week, you won't have to deal with him anymore."

"You finished your invention!" Both boys asked with hopefulness. Nya smirked and grabbed both their wrists before pulling them out of the kitchen and upstairs, where their bedrooms were located, as well as the room she and their parents used as a workshop. Kai sometimes painted something if he was bored, but he hasn't done it in a while. Nya threw the door open, revealing the wooden floor covered by paint-splattered sheets and blotches of paint-decorated walls.

The wall opposite the door was made entirely of glass, like a giant window allowing air and sunlight inside.

Blank canvases and stacks of papers and scrolls lined the opposite wall while easels with trays of oil paints, watercolors and charcoals cups filled with pencils, pens, and brushes of various, shape, size, texture, and design covered the table by the sink where water cans and jars held paint-caked brushes. In the corner sat her newest invention, while a tray of oil paints in various colors rested on the table next to it. The machine itself took Kai and Lloyd's breath away.

It is a wooden machine containing various types of gadgetry, including an ax.

This machine was intended to be used to chop wood, supposedly making it easier than chopping with an ordinary ax.

"Wow!" Kai gasped.

"It's amazing, big sis!" Lloyd hugged her. "Now I know you're going to win this year!"

"Let's hope so." She beamed as she wrapped her arms around her two brothers and pulling them both close in a hug. "Then maybe we can get out of here."

"Finally!" Kai cheered.

"Now, I'm gonna get changed." She released her siblings before strolling down the hallway to her room. "Unless of course, you want me to help you clean the kitchen and-"

"NO!" They both said with such force she was taken aback. Nya meant it as a joke but it seemed neither Kai nor Lloyd were taking the chance.

"Oh and since Lloyd will probably be too busy cleaning the kitchen you'll just have to suffer pasta with my sauce," Kai warned teasingly, following Lloyd downstairs, smirking when he saw Nya cringe. Kai's sauce was incredibly hot and spicy. It hadn't taken too long to clean the kitchen, since Nya had only caused smoke and soot to cover the house and fortunately hadn't really burned anything. Still, it took at least an hour to clean the kitchen and make dinner.

Those were two things Nya was not allowed to help with since all her elegance and grace with creating and movement seemed to cease the second she entered the kitchen.

Once they finished, the trio spent the rest of the night the way they always did. Closing up shop and enjoying the night until Lloyd finally fell asleep, resulting in Nya carrying him upstairs and putting him to bed. Nya could only smile at the adorable sight.

"What?"

"Nothing." She shrugged her shoulders, still smiling. "Just wondering what you're still doing here?"

"What does that mean?" He asked confused, before turning back to Lloyd's sleeping form.

"I don't mean, here as in with the family, I meant here in general." She explained, sitting down next to her brothers.

"Let's face it, I don't fit in here." He groaned. "I mean, no one here gets me, and I have no one to talk to except you, Lloyd, and the librarian; and if you say Morro I swear to God I'll scream!" He threatened her and Nya burst out laughing.

"I wasn't going to, but remind me again why you don't like him?" She teased and Kai snorted.

"He's not my type."

"Poor Morro, maybe if he'd stayed the same, he might have a chance."

"I doubt it; honestly, I just don't wanna get married, I wanna be in love when I get married, not just settle down for the sake of it, or give myself up for money; I wanna travel and write and make my own happiness before I start looking for someone to share my happiness with." He explained. "Morro doesn't care about me, he just doesn't understand me! I want someone who loves me for me, and who can show me they love me like even without saying the words, I'll know they love me."

"Sounds cheesy," Nya replied with a teasing smile, before placing her hands on his shoulders. "Lloyd's right, you are a hopeful romantic." She giggled. Kai blushed before playfully punching Nya's arm. She just laughed before smiling sadly. "But seriously, Kai, that's a pretty amazing thought." She promised and Kai blinked at Nya's sudden change of tone. They sat in silence for a little while before Kai took a deep breath to settled his nerves.

"Nya? Do you think I'm odd?" He reluctantly asked, scared of the answer. His sister froze and looked at the brunette as if he'd suddenly grown an extra head.

"Is this because of what those idiots in town keep saying?" She asked angrily and Kai looked up to meet her saddened eyes.

"It's not that," He replied looking away. "It's just... I don't know, I obviously don't fit in, but sometimes I wish I did; then maybe I could find someone who actually understands me aside from you and Lloyd." He added and suddenly found himself wrapped in a warm hug by Nya before he was released. Nya's gaze rested on him with a look of firm affection.

"Kai, you're an artist like Mom and me, just with words, that means you see the world in ways other people can't or simply don't understand and it's your gift, to see the beauty and the horror in ordinary things, it doesn't make you odd, or strange, despite what the idiots in this town seem to think, just different, and there's nothing wrong with being different." She explained like it was a fact that needed to be memorized. Kai wasn't sure whether to smile or laugh at his silliness so he did both.

"Thanks, sis."

"Anytime," Nya laughed and got up before kissing Kai's forehead and then Lloyd's before turning to leave the room. "Night, big bro." She smiled and winked. "And remember, Lloyd and I are leaving tomorrow so we gotta get up early."

"I remember." He smiled, before getting up and retiring to his own room for the night...

[brotbrotbrotlamb]

22:38

warnings: mentions of burns??

word count: 1.2k

“bread… bread, did you try to grab the tray, in the oven, while it was baking? with your own bare hands?”

[22:38] as lamb entered the house, she was met with the sight of bread in an apron, lying spread eagle on the kitchen floor.

“bread!” she shrieked, nearly dropping her bag as she rushed to her boyfriend’s side. luckily, he was not out cold like she had thought, but he was staring blankly into space with abnormally wet and red hands. “holy crepes, you scared me so bad for a moment. why are you on the kitchen floor?”

he only acknowledged a few seconds after her question. he turned his head, saying dazedly, “have you ever baked cookies?”

“baked cookies?” she repeated. it was only then that she caught sight of the open oven door and the bowls stacked messily on top of each other on the counter. a slightly acrid smell that comprised caramelised sugar, burnt plastic and burnt chocolate assaulted her nostrils as she stood up and walked closer, causing her to involuntarily scrunch her nose. “bread, is that what you tried to do?”

“yeah,” bread still looked like he was in a trance. “i wanted to do something nice for you for once.”

“you know you didn’t have to,” lamb told him, grabbing the mittens from the bottom left drawer and pulling the cookie tray out. the cookies looked severely undercooked, which made no sense considering the smell. “are these chocolate chip cookies?”

when bread didn’t reply even after a few seconds, lamb set the tray on a coaster of sorts and turned back around. he wasn’t lying on the floor anymore, instead choosing to sit up, but his expression still made her stop short. 

“bread,” lamb was starting to feel genuine concern for her boyfriend. he was staring at the pair of mittens on her hand with astonishment, as if he had never seen the pair of cotton that protected your hands from heat. “bread, you’re acting really weird. are you okay?”

“i didn’t see those mittens,” he said, reaching for the drawer they had been in and hissing when his hand touched the metal. he dropped them, staring at his red palms, covered in what lamb quickly realised were forming blisters. “i wouldn’t have tried—”

“are you kidding me?” lamb shrieked, quickly piecing together what had happened. slipping the mittens off, she took her hands in his to inspect them. there was no doubt about it; hee had definitely tried to grab the cookies with his bare hands. by the look of the angry red patches on his hand, he had tried to grab the entire tray by pressing his hands against it. “bread… bread, did you try to grab the tray, in the oven, while it was baking? with your own bare hands?”

bread looked away and mumbled something.

“bread,” lamb deadpanned, forcing him to look at her. “did you really— did you really try to grab a burning hot tray at like two hundred and twenty degrees celsius?”

“it wasn’t two hundred and twenty,” he tried to argue, “more like two hundred and five?”

“that’s,” lamb exhaled in exasperation, trying to tug him to a standing position by pulling on his wrists. “that’s really not much better. how are you not screaming or crying? and what in the world made you do that? like… are you okay?”

“shut up, okay,” he told her, though there was no bite behind his words. “i looked inside and it looked like it was burning—”

“and your first instinct is to grab it with your bare hands? even when you thought it was on fire??” 

“i panicked!”

“you’re literally so dumb,” lamb shook her head, holding bread’s hand under the running tap water. “how does it smell like burning chemicals if it’s literally undercooked? i swear you are talented, just not in the way people want to be.”

“i think, uhm,” the guilt and embarrassment on bread’s face was overwhelming. “it was the cling wrap? i like put it over the remaining butter, you know, the one you put in the small bowl, and like, i think it partly melted now that i think of it—”

“you put potentially plastic-infused butter into the cookies?” 

“it looked completely fine when it came out! it’s just that now that i think about it, it could have been that—”

“bread! did no one tell you not to put plastic in the microwave, like, ever?? do you even know not to put cooked eggs in the microwave?”

“you can’t?”

“oh my god,” lamb facepalmed, partly splashing water on her face and hair, but she didn’t mind. “are you kidding me? bread, you know i love you and all, but i think you should just let me cook from now on. actually, i think we should just takeout more often or learn to actually cook together.”

“you’re not much better,” bread tried to argue back, looking mildly put out. “you nearly set the pasta on fire after accidentally dropping it on the stove just last week!”

“key word, nearly. you burnt your hands that bad in a state of panic and turned the kitchen into a mess and you’re trying to tell me i’m bad?” lamb gestured to the bowls and plates that littered the counter, filled with either a liquid or powder of some sort. 

when bread didn’t reply, she looked at him only to find him staring miserably at the running water. sighing, she nudged him slightly with her shoulder. “hey, but i appreciate the effort, though. everyone’s bound to fail at some point and yours just happened on the first try. we can bake the cookies fully and try a bit… who knows, it might be good!”

the look bread gave her was scathing. “you want food poisoning, lamb?”

“and i was trying to be nice as well, humph. you wanna waste all those ingredients?”

“if we might get sick from that, i think i’m fine throwing it away.”

lamb shot her own withering glance at him. “this is why i told you not to cook on your own, you food waster.��

silence ensued as lamb wrapped the burns with sterile bandages. a few minutes later, they turned to the now cool batch of raw cookie dough on the counter. it had sunk into itself, looking particularly pale and cracked on the surface. lamb inspected it before sharing a look of mutual disgust with bread.

“yeah, we should throw it away. not only did you not refrigerate your dough, you also used all white sugar. i don’t know what tutorial you were looking at, but this is not it, chief.”

“how can you even tell?” bread asked, to which lamb replied, “i just watch a lot of videos.”

“and i wasn’t, uh,” bread continued, “looking at any tutorial…”

lamb just gave him this “are-you-goddamn-serious-right-now” before showing off her incredible lung capacity in a long sight.

“we’re going to clean these bowls and crap up, but before that, we’re getting takeout.”

“japanese takeout,” bread suggested.

“you’re lucky i even love you enough to listen, bread,” lamb warned playfully, before picking her bag up from the top of the shoe cabinet. “and for once, i guess i’l drive.”

“and we’re getting chocolate chip cookies,” looking at the bin mournfully, bread struggled to put his shoes on without using his hands. “to make up for the opportunity of eating cookies being stripped away from us.”

“and that too.”

“i think i love you.”

“humph, you’d better. i love you too.”

taglist: @danishmiilk​ @slippinglasses​

[kingofdirtandnothing]

@polyfacetious big ass Christmas Drabble Extravagaza: Day Two

With the odd little redhead sorted, James sends him off to get them coffee and pastries. It’s a ploy, and a blatant one at that. But M’Baku has never been one to turn down the opportunity to go to Bag End Bakery. 

The place was a wonderland of sights and smells, the big glass case in the center of the room dominating the space and drawing the eye. Inside, there were gold cut outs laid in neat rows, doilies on top of them to display whatever delicacies that Bilbo has come up with. 

And the smell. God, don’t get him started about the smell of the place. It was like walking past the gates of Heaven itself and taking a whiff. Sugar and cinnamon hung lightly in the air and still found the way to tickle your nose and stick to your tongue. The smell of freshly roasted coffee was a strong noted counterpart. It made you want to sit down and stay awhile. 

Then again, the place could have legos all over the floor and the most uncomfortable, flimsy metal chairs and M’Baku would still want to stay. 

Love made fools of us all. 

He steps inside, ducking a little so he doesn’t knock his forehead against the bell hanging there, and breathes in deep. Yes, this was as close to Heaven as he was going to get. As evidenced by the angel behind the show case who was smiling at him as he wiped the flour from his hands and onto his apron. 

“Hello.” Bilbo has a lovely, smooth voice. Like heavy cream. He steps up to the counter, and M’Baku can see the way he’s fighting the smile at his lips. Fools of us all, indeed. “What can I get for you today?”

M’Baku didn’t have a regular order. There were too many delicious looking delicacies in that case to settle for any one of them, no matter how delicious they were. Now his coffee? That was the same every single time. An easy order, too. A medium roast, with cream and two sugars. Though sometimes the holidays got the best of him and he’d order something with pumpkin or peppermint. 

But at the moment, M’Baku wasn’t thinking about his coffee order (or James’. Sorry, brother.) or even the wide array of sweets laid out under bright lights that were calling to his grumbling stomach. No, M’Baku was thinking about a book he’d picked up in the store last night when they were cleaning up. 

It had been left out on the edge of the shelf, one of the pages inside dog eared. The dust jacket had been lost since before they had ownership of it, as evidenced by the price sticker right against the cover of the book. 3.99. Not exactly a best seller. 

They got a few loiterers, but neither M’Baku nor James had ever gotten the urge to run anyone off. Hell, they had two overstuffed leather chairs that were kept in front of the big frosted glass front window of the shop. The lighting was fantastic there. So long as people left their coffees from Bilbo’s on the table or the windowsill, they could sit and read for as long as they wanted. 

But this book had caught M’Baku’s eye. Because the person reading it hadn’t made themselves comfortable in a chair in the sunshine. They’d stayed behind a book shelf to read. Clandestine. What sort of fantastic smut had they found in a bargain bin book on a back shelf?

So he did exactly what his mystery reader did. M’Baku stood right there in the aisle and went to the dog eared page to see what all the fuss was about. But what he found wasn’t old white woman smut, or even the strange kind of bondage that seemed to be all the literary rage these days. 

No, M’Baku found a story in the throes of love and passion, a woman drawing her husband’s bored eyes to her again by bringing him into the kitchen. With an array of fresh fruit and melted chocolate. 

He must have read the line about the woman watching her husband bite into a luscious, white chocolate covered strawberry a dozen times. And then he slipped a fiver into the cash register and put the book into his bag to take home. 

What can I get for you today? M’Baku blinks back to the present and away from the thought of sweet fruit juce spilling on a willing tongue. “Well.” His laughter is a quiet thing, and a sheepish thing. James would be doubled over with laughter if he knew what M’Baku was about to do. Like the kind of laughter that would make your stomach muscles hurt for a few hours afterwards. 

James could laugh all he wanted. M’Baku was a man on a mission. 

The little redhead was what switched this thought from fantasy to reality. If she could walk into their shop, see a picture of John Luther on the wall and decide she wanted him enough to make a deal, then M’Baku could take a walk down their little cobble stone street to his friend’s bakery and make a play for what he wanted. 

“Do you work with chocolate much?” That’s probably a stupid question. And the confused smile Bilbo gives him just confirms it. There are drizzles of chocolate across a few of the pastries in the case, right at M’Baku’s eye level. This was off to a great start. 

“When I have the time.” It takes M’Baku a second to realize that Bilbo isn’t laughing at him. He’s laughing at himself. (It helped, knowing he wasn’t the only nervous one here.) “I’m no chocolatier by any stretch of the imagination, but I do like to try new things.”

Well. A man couldn’t get a better opening than that, now could he? “Could you show me how to dip fruit in chocolate?” He’s very particular about how he asks. Because M’Baku doesn’t just want to buy chocolate dipped fruit from Bilbo. He wants to be a part of the process. 

Bilbo looks at him for a long moment, thinking it over. M’Baku watches in pleased surprise as he puts the ‘back in an hour’ sign on top of the glass case and gestures him behind the counter with a crooked finger. “We can put a little something together. It won’t be especially, fancy but you’ll get the gist of it.”

“That’s all I need.” M’Baku steps behind the counter, and follows Bilbo over to the sink, standing shoulder to...top of the head next to Bilbo as they wash their hands beneath the warm torrent of water, bubbles swirling around the basin of the sink before they slip down into the drain. He forgets sometimes, how small Bilbo actually is. There was something about being on the other side of the counter that made him seem larger. Like his authority was some kind of a step stool.

“Right.” Bilbo claps his hands together with a quick burst of sound, looking down at the ingredients laid out on the counter top between them. There were two metal bowls, a pot, a cutting board with chocolate and a massive knife sitting on top of it, and then a green plastic basket of strawberries. “The first thing we need to do is to chop the chocolate. It doesn’t need to be nice or neat, but we want the pieces relatively the same size. If some are bigger than the others, they’ll take longer to melt and we can risk scalding the chocolate on the bottom.”

M’Baku looks from Bilbo, to the massive knife and back again. “And you want me to do that?” That huff of breath that might just be a laugh feels like a victory. Bilbo nudges him out of the way with an elbow against the ribs and starts chopping the chocolate with his knife, as easy as breathing. 

There was a grace to the way that he moved, like it was ingrained in him. Bilbo rocks the knife against the well worn and scoured cutting board, the chocolate coming apart in crisp snaps beneath the motion. And in what feels like a matter of seconds, there’s a neat mountain of chocolate debris. Bilbo gathers it up onto the flat side of his knife, letting it rain down into the first metal bowl. “Now.” For a man who didn’t want to be in charge of anyone, Bilbo was very good at it. “Have you ever heard of using a double boiler?”

M’Baku hums. “Bowl over boiling water?” He holds his hands, one stacked on top of the other. He’s watched a Youtube cooking show or two in his time. Even if he’s never put any of it to practice. They were soothing to watch when you wanted to sleep. Especially the Japanese ones with their subtitles and their tiny cakes that always looked like something other than cake.

Bilbo’s smile is quick, and bright. “Right. It helps us control the temperature so we melt our chocolate evenly.” The pot is filled with water from the sink and put onto the big range above the row of ovens. Bilbo waits, checking his watch before he looks to water for the roiling bubbles of a boil. “Alright, bring the chocolate.”

M’Baku puts the bowl on top of the pot of boiling water, and takes the whisk that is handed to him. “You want to wisk gently, but constantly.” Pale fingers curl over M’Baku’s hold on the whisk, and his heart leaps right up into his throat. When Bilbo pulls away, M’Baku is careful to keep the same slow, easy strokes in a circle around the bowl. 

And though it gives him something to do with his hands, it does little to stop the running commentary of his thoughts, like a hamster in a wheel. Bilbo’s hands were softer than expected. M’Baku had assumed they would be callused and dry, after all the hard work he put in every day, and dealing with things fresh out of the oven. But his hands were soft. It made the touch between them, no matter how short, feel that much more intimate.

“Coconut oil. The not so secret ingredient.” Bilbo’s voice is playfully low as he spoons a big blob of white into the mixture, the darkness of the chocolate becoming a richer, warmer color as they coalesce together into something whole. “It helps the chocolate set against the fruit. And it gives it a nice shine.”

M’Baku raises the whisk from the mixture, watching the chocolate fall in silken ribbons back into the bowl. It was almost hypnotic to watch, slithering back down to become one with the rest of the chocolate still in the bowl.

“Now. We’re not on an especially quick time frame with the chocolate, but we do need to move before it begins to set. Though if it gets too hard, we can warm it again on the double boiler. That’s why we keep it simmering while we work.” Bilbo lifts the first strawberry, holding the green strem between his thumb and forefinger. Gracefully, he dips it into the chocolate and gives it two swift turns, cutting off the tail of chocolate that dribbles from the tip. 

The strawberry is placed on the piece of parchment that Bilbo laid out on a cooking sheet. “You make that look easy.” And sure enough, when M’Baku lifts his strawberry from the gooey bowl, two twists leaves him with nothing but a lumpy, lopsided strawberry. When he lays it beside Bilbo’s, all M’Baku can do is laugh. “Definitely harder than it looks.” 

“That’s alright. You just need a little more practice, that’s all.” Bilbo’s smile is warm, and private. It feels like something that belongs to M’Baku and M’Baku alone. And if their fingers touch when Bilbo hands him the next strawberry, well...who’s to say?

M’Baku dips the next strawberry into the chocolate.

“I could get used to this.” 

[mamabearcatfanfics]

And Baby Makes Three

This is the first chapter of my new NaLu family slice of life serial - Welcome to Fatherhood.  Can’t promise regular updates, but whenever I wanna write Modern AU Natsu and Lucy family oneshots, it’ll end up here.  Expect sweetness and fluff, occasional family angst, but mostly just happy times with Natsu and Lucy and the newest member of the Dragneel family. Enjoy!

If you’ve read The Not So Good Very Bad Day and think you’ve seen it all before, keep reading - I promise there’s more. Mentions of pregnancy and labour.

💕💗💕

"Hey Luce, I got that garlic bread that you wanted", called out Natsu, pushing the front door to their apartment shut behind him. He walked into the kitchen with the grocery bags, plonking them onto the bench next to the sink. It looked like Lucy had already made a start on dinner; a rich bolognese sauce was simmering on the stove, and the spaghetti was bubbling in a pot of salted water. He turned on the oven and put the foil wrapped garlic bread in; dinner looked like it would be ready any minute.

"Luce?" called out Natsu, wondering where his wife had got to. He had his answer a few seconds later as he heard the toilet flush, and he grinned, realising he should have known where she would be. Lucy's constant visits to the bathroom now that she was eight and a half months pregnant were a running joke between them, one that she was getting mightily tired of.

Natsu put the groceries away while he waited for Lucy to appear, then peered down the hallway with a little trepidation, wondering which Lucy would greet him tonight. Over the last two weeks, her mood swings were getting a little… extreme. Not that he was complaining too much. At least he wasn't the one that was going to have to push a baby out anytime soon. Nevertheless, he smiled in relief when Lucy looked happy to see him, although she also looked exhausted.

Her long golden locks were shoved into a messy bun, and she was already changed into her pj's even though it was only early in the evening – a stretched black singlet top that used to be his and a pair of boxers with the waistband pushed down below her baby bump. One more day of work, and she'd be on maternity leave, and then only two weeks until Lucy's official due date.

He watched lovingly as Lucy waddled down the hallway towards him, one arm rubbing on the small of her back. He'd learned very early on not to say the word 'waddled' but really, now that her baby bump was so large, there was no other word for the way she walked. He found it endearing; Lucy, not so much.

She stood on tiptoe to give him a squeezy hug, well, the best approximation she could with her baby bump in the way. "I'm so glad to see you", she sighed, leaning her head on his shoulder. Guessing it was probably aching again, Natsu rubbed her lower back in firm circles with his thumbs, and she groaned in relief, making him chuckle. He kissed the top of her head in greeting.

"Did something bad happen at work today?" he asked with concern, continuing to knead her sore muscles. Damn, they were tight - almost rock hard!

"Not really", Lucy said. "I'm just so tired Natsu. The lift broke down and I had to walk down three flights of stairs for a meeting, and then back up again. At least it was fixed by the time I left to go home."

She gave him a small affectionate peck on the lips and walked slowly over to the stove, hand resting on her lower back again. "Why don't you go wash up while I organise this. Should only be a minute or two before its ready."

Natsu wandered down the hallway of their small apartment to the bathroom, quickly washing and drying his hands. As he walked back past what used to be the spare bedroom, he couldn't help but stop to lean on the door frame to gaze around the room in wonder, like he did every time he walked past this door since they'd finally finished decorating last weekend. Even though he had attended every ultrasound, read all the 'dad' chapters in Lucy's pregnancy books and attended every information class at the hospital, decorating this room… this is what made fatherhood begin to feel real for him.

The once beige walls were painted a pale yellow, and cheerful yellow gingham curtains decorated the window. A white chest of drawers was filled with little baby onesies and singlets, and a blue pram was pushed into the corner. Cloth nappies were stacked on the wooden change table, sharing the space with creams and baby wipes. A plastic baby bath was stored underneath, a bright yellow rubber duck sitting proudly in its centre.

They had created a mural on one of the blank walls. He had painted a friendly red dragon flying in a night sky, which Lucy had filled with silver stars and a smiling moon. Leaning up against the wall near the doorway was a big cardboard box that contained the pieces of a wooden cradle. That was his job for this weekend; to put it together and set it up in their bedroom, ready to be used by their son or daughter when they brought him or her home. Natsu ran his hand over the edge of the box, picturing Lucy rocking a tiny sleeping baby in the cradle, and he couldn't help his joyful grin. He couldn't wait.

A sudden squeal and crash had Natsu sprinting back to the kitchen. Lucy was sitting on her knees on the kitchen floor sobbing, with the upturned pasta pot and water spilled over the floor. He dragged her backwards away from the spreading water and helped her sit down on one of the kitchen chairs, examining her anxiously.

"Fuck Luce, are you okay? Did you burn yourself?" He turned her hands over, checking for burns, patting her pyjamas to see if they were wet anywhere, and then stooped down to check her legs and bare feet. When he couldn't find any injuries, he cupped Lucy's face in his hands, trying to wipe away her tears with his thumbs as they continued to fall. "Tell me, what's wrong babe? You're worrying me!"

Lucy's face contorted as she tried to get words out through her sobs. "Can't do anything right", she finally managed, trying to get a hold of her emotions. "So stupid… and clumsy… dropped the pot… fell out of my hands."

"Hey", Natsu crooned, still stroking her face. "It's just pasta Luce, it's not worth all these tears. I can just make more. Please don't cry." He put his arms around her shoulders and rocked back and forth, and Lucy buried her face in his shoulder, still crying. When her sobs started to calm down, Natsu pulled back a little so he could reach the box of tissues on the table. He dried her eyes and handed her another tissue, so she could blow her nose.

While Lucy sat on the chair, gradually becoming calmer, he began to clean up. Not wanting to risk her slipping on the wet floor, he stripped off his black t-shirt, and mopped up the water, wringing it into the sink, then scooped up all the cooked spaghetti in his hands and put it into the bin. He decided Lucy probably needed to eat sooner rather than later, so after putting the empty pot in the sink and turning off the oven and stove, he served the chunky mince bolognese sauce into two bowls, adding a few hunks of garlic bread and a fork to each. He carried them into the lounge room and placed them on the coffee table and came back for his girl.

"Do you wanna tell me what's really wrong Luce?" he asked, helping her get to her feet. She leaned on him as they walked into the lounge room, still sniffling. Natsu sat down on the sofa, stretched out length ways, and helped Lucy sit down so she was cradled in between his legs, her back resting against his bare chest. He reached out and started rubbing her stomach in circles, kissing the top of her head. "Tell me, baby girl, I can't help if I don't know what's going on."

Lucy sighed, still hiccuping a little. "I'm sorry I cried like that. Nothings really wrong", she said. "Just a lot of little somethings that all built up I guess, that turned it into a bad day. It started when I got dressed for work this morning. My feet were all swollen and none of my shoes fit. I had to wear my slippers to work."

Natsu tried very hard not to, but a small snort of laughter escaped. Lucy tapped him on the arm. "Fine", she grumbled, "you can laugh, everyone one else at work did too." That stopped his laughter, and he began rubbing small circles again, kissing the top of her head gently in apology.

"What else happened Luce?"

"Well, I already told you that the lift was out. I had to walk downstairs for a meeting, and when I got there, I realised that the folder I needed was still on my desk, and I had to walk all the way up there again and back down, and then I was late." Natsu murmured sympathetically.

"Then because I was late, by the time I had lunch they'd run out of all the sandwiches I like in the café downstairs. All they had left was curried egg, but I was so hungry I bought it and it gave me horrible heartburn all afternoon. And I've had these stupid Braxton Hicks contractions all damn day. But that wasn't the worst part." Natsu hugged her tighter, racking his brain for comforting phrases to say after Lucy revealed what might have made her so upset.

"I was talking to the new sales manager about who he'd need to contact for that big conference next month, when Levy popped in with the twins to say hi to everyone who hadn't got to see them when she was in hospital." Although Lucy smiled at the thought of Levy and her three-month old twins, Natsu sensed that she was about to reveal something that had really upset her.

"They weren't even in my office, they were out in the tea room. I was trying to wrap up the meeting so that I could go see them when Jonah started crying. Crying really loudly." Lucy covered her face with her hands.

"Hey, c'mon, it can't be that bad…" began Natsu.

"My boobs leaked Natsu! I was wearing a white shirt, and my boobs leaked! The front of my shirt was covered in two big wet patches. And Jason just kept staring at them. He didn't look away and I didn't know what to do! I was so embarrassed! So I pretended I had another meeting and went and hid in the bathroom for half an hour. I had to rinse out my shirt and dry it under the hand dryer."

Natsu gently pulled Lucy's hands away from her face, squeezing her fingers. "Creepy bastard", growled Natsu. "I mean, I guess he was surprised, but staring at you when it's somethin' that you can't help - that's just wrong! Remind me to punch him for ya if I see him at the office Christmas party."

Lucy giggled, but it was a worn-out tired giggle. "I'm so sorry Natsu. I know at the moment I'm not always the nicest person to be around, but I'm just so exhausted. I can't sleep properly because I can't get comfy, and when I finally do, I have to get up to go to the toilet, or these stupid Braxton Hicks contractions start up again. I keep forgetting stuff and dropping things. I don't even know what my feet look like anymore."

While she was talking, Natsu kept on rubbing her stomach. He drew up her singlet top, so it revealed the pale skin stretched tight over her bump, and the darker line that ran down the centre of her stomach. He traced his finger around her belly button. Previously it had been a cute little dimple that he could poke his finger in and get the reward of immediate Lucy giggles because she was very ticklish there, but was now it was stretched flat with the pressure of their baby behind it.

Her body amazed him. The fact that there was a whole other person in there was beyond incredible. The baby wasn't kicking so much anymore, because the midwife had informed them that he or she had pretty much run out of stretching room, but every now and then Lucy's stomach would move, and Natsu's hand would reach out to rub and press on her skin where the baby was. When she had finished speaking, he dropped a loving kiss to the top of her head.

"Luce, you know what I think? I think today was your last day at work. It was a shitty day, and I don't think you need to go back there tomorrow. I think tomorrow we're both gonna call in sick, and I'm gonna pamper my princess while I still can, before we're both too busy running around after a newborn for stuff like that. What do ya say?"

"Natsu, that sounds so tempting, but…"

"But nothin. I'll even call the midwives at the hospital to see if we can get a medical certificate for ya to mail to them. You've already done all the hand over stuff Luce. I'll call Gajeel tonight and let him know – all the appointments we have booked in for tomorrow are smaller tattoos, he can handle it."

Lucy sighed. "Okay". Suddenly she felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She placed her hands over his on her belly, and they both smiled as the baby bumped a small knee, or perhaps an elbow, into their joined hands.

"Thank you Natsu", she sniffed, feeling a little teary again, but in a good way. "I don't know what I'd do without you." Natsu kissed the top of her head again, and then laughed as Lucy's stomach growled loudly.

"Right back at ya, baby girl." He helped Lucy sit upright on the sofa and reached over to the coffee table for a bowl of Bolognese and garlic bread with a fork stuck in the middle of it. "Here ya go madame, fine dining at its very best."

Lucy began to shovel in forkfuls of the savoury mince into her mouth, suddenly realising how hungry she was. "So Natsu, what sort of pampering were you thinking of?"

"Well, I thought I could give you a foot massage and paint your toenails for you", began Natsu, stuffing a piece of garlic bread in his mouth. "Maybe we could watch a movie together on the sofa." His green eyes took on a greedy glint. "If you were feeling up to it, perhaps I could give you a 'Natsu Special' massage, with all the trimmings." He waggled his eyebrows at her teasingly.

Lucy grinned at him. "Is that massage for you, or for me?"

"Both of us", winked Natsu, leaning across to give her a loving kiss, which became two kisses, then three. Lucy moaned softly into his mouth and opened her lips, ready to return his kisses, but then couldn't stifle a yawn.

"Sorry!" she squeaked. Natsu chuckled, placing one last gentle kiss on her lips before drawing back.

"But tonight princess, it's off to bed early for you. I got lots of pampering I wanna do to you, and I can't do it if you're too tired to stay awake."

He bent down to kiss her belly too. "No bedtime stories tonight kiddo, your Mama needs her rest. And listen up, stop treatin' her so rough. She's the only one you got, so you gotta take care of her. Try not to tap-dance on her bladder tonight, so she can get a good night's sleep, okay?" He kissed her stomach one more time, then got to his feet, holding his hands out to Lucy. "Bedtime Luce."

Lucy grumbled, but Natsu helped her to her feet, and gently pushed her down the hallway to their bedroom. He grabbed the extra pillows, and after she got herself settled on her side, he stuffed one between her knees, and the special wedged one under her bump. He knelt down next to the bed to gently stroke her forehead as she yawned again.

As her eyes drifted closed, he realised that their nights like this, with just the two of them here in their home would be coming to an end in just a few weeks, maybe even just a few days. It both excited and terrified him.

He stood for a few moments, watching Lucy sleep, her hands curled protectively over her rounded belly filled with their child, then quietly pulled the door closed so she wouldn't be disturbed.

💕💗💕

"Natsu?" Lucy's voice was soft in his ear, but her voice sounded a little strained.

"Wassup Lucy?" he asked blearily, blinking his eyes against the bright light streaming into the bedroom from the hallway. Did he forget to turn that off? His eyes flicked to the digital clock on their bedside table – 3am. He'd stayed up for a few hours playing Team Fortress 2 with Gray and Gajeel, then gone to bed around midnight, snuggling in next to his wife, already planning their day together in his head. But she wasn't lying next to him now.

Lucy was leaning over the bed, her hands resting on the mattress while her hips rocked from side to side. She was panting and a small moan of pain slipped past her clenched teeth.

"Shit. This is it huh?" He rolled out of bed quickly, trying to push down his feelings of panic. He had to be calm. He was Lucy's support person for her labour, and he needed to stay calm. He pushed Lucy's sweaty bangs out of her face. "What do you need Luce?"

"My back", she groaned through clenched teeth, and he moved behind her, pushing his thumbs in hard circles above the base of her spine.

"Helpin' or hurtin'?" he asked, trying very hard to keep the anxious tone out of his voice.

"Helping", she whimpered, and he gritted his teeth. He'd known Lucy would be in pain during labour, of course he'd known that, but now that he was faced with possibly hours of her hurting, he didn't know what to do with all these feelings. Guilt, excitement, anxiety… he pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on trying to assist his wife through the pain of her contraction.

Lucy gave an exhausted sigh. "It's finished." She straightened up awkwardly, and Natsu pulled her into a hug.

"How long has this been goin' on?"

"A while", she said, not looking him in the eye.

"Luuucyyy - what does 'a while' mean?"

"Well, you know how I said those Braxton Hicks contractions had been bothering me all day? I worked out that maybe, they were actually the real thing. I woke up two hours ago when they started getting hard to sleep through, but you looked so peaceful, so I didn't want to wake you up."

"Lucy!" Natsu groaned.

"Well", she pouted, crossing her arms, "I figured at least one of us should be sleeping - who knows how long this is gonna take! I just wanted to let you sleep until I couldn't handle it on my own."

Natsu tugged on a bit of loose hair that had fallen out of her messy bun, then kissed her pouting lips. "So stubborn. What am I gonna do with you, huh?"

She grinned at him. "You're gonna help me pack the hospital bag, because I haven't done it yet. Can you get the list?"

Natsu rolled his eyes a little at yet another list, but jogged into the kitchen to get it off the fridge. Lucy had always been a list maker extraordinaire, even in high school when he'd first met her. She was always organised, and hated being late for anything, where he was the exact opposite. He grinned. Looks like the baby was going to take after her mother in that regard.

He wandered back into the bedroom, list in his hand. "Hey Luce, looks like the baby… oh, shit." Lucy was standing in the middle of the room with a mortified look on her face. There was was liquid pooling around her feet.

"Uh, Natsu?"

He dropped the list on the bed and took her hands in his. "Okay. It's okay babe."

"Natsu, my water broke", Lucy said in a shocked voice, stating the obvious.

"Uh huh. Here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna help you into the shower, and you're gonna get clean, and I'll pack the bag, and then we'll head off to the birthing centre. Sounds like a plan, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay." Lucy grimaced as she stepped forwards, more fluids dribbling down her leg. "This is so gross. I'm so sorry Natsu, the carpet…"

"Who cares? We'll just put a rug there or somethin' if it stains. You okay to walk?"

"Yeah… no wait, stop, here comes another one." Lucy panted and leaned against Natsu as he glanced at the bedroom clock for the time, then rubbed his thumbs into her back again, counting in his head.

"Keep breathin' Lucy. That's my girl. You got this. You're so fuckin' awesome. I love you so much, baby." He kissed her sweaty forehead, wishing he could take some of her pain away. "All done?"

Lucy nodded, still leaning against him.

"Let's get you in the shower and then I'm gonna call the birthing centre to let 'em know we're comin' in soon, cause that contraction lasted sixty seconds, more or less." He helped Lucy across the hallway, chuckling at her disgust as he peeled her wet boxers and underpants down her legs. "Don't worry about it, Luce", he grinned, turning on the water in the shower nice and hot, like she liked it.

"You don't think it's gross?" she asked softly.

"Nah. That time I watched you eat potato chips and ice-cream was much grosser than this", he teased, helping her out of her singlet top. "I'm gonna go pack stuff. You gonna be okay here for a few minutes?"

Lucy launched herself at him and hugged him tightly. "I love you so much Natsu, I really really do."

Natsu rubbed her back, burying his nose in her hair. It still smelled like strawberry shampoo, and he took a moment to breathe it in, helping him calm down a little. Everything was moving so fast. "I love you too, Luce. You ready for team Dragneel to kick some baby makin' ass?"

Lucy giggled. "You know it. Go get that bag ready while I get clean. Do you think you could get me that old pink t-shirt dress I wear on the weekends? And some underpants and um", she blushed a little, "a maternity pad, in case I leak some more - they should be in the top drawer I think."

"Aye Sir!"

He sprinted back to their bedroom to stuff things in Lucy's backpack. Based on the last contraction, he guessed he had about five minutes before he needed to get back to her. Clothes for Lucy, baby outfit for coming home, baby blanket, nappies. He glanced through the list again, trying to judge what would be most important, and what he could get for her later. What the fuck Lucy? Scented candles? That was definitely on the 'not now' list.

"Naaatsuuuu!"

Fuck. That was four minutes - they were getting closer together. He sprinted back across the hallway. Lucy was leaning against the tiles, tapping her forehead hard against them as she swayed, whimpering.

"Luce, you're gonna hurt yourself!" He climbed into the shower with her, turning her so her head was resting on his shoulder and the hot water was aimed at her back. He murmured softly into her hair, stroking her arms. "You're doin' so good babe, I'm so proud of you." He counted in his head again, up to sixty.

Lucy sighed against him. "That one really hurt." Natsu pulled back from her, pushing her fringe out of the way to inspect the red mark on her forehead.

"What were ya tryin' to do, give yourself concussion? Jeez Luce!" Lucy touched her forehead gingerly.

"I don't really know what that was about. I didn't realise I was doing it until you made me stop." Natsu turned off the water and wrapped a towel around Lucy's shoulders, shucking off his wet boxers and grabbing a towel for himself.

"Okay, let's hustle. That was four minutes. So let's get you dressed in those four minutes, and then we'll wait the contraction out, and then get in the car. I've packed most of the stuff, and anything I haven't I can come back for later okay?"

Lucy nodded, trying to hurry, drying herself while Natsu grabbed her clothes, helping her into her underpants while she put her head through the t-shirt dress. Natsu wasn't sure he'd got the pad exactly right, but it was in there. Lucy pushed her arms in the sleeves, and Natsu grabbed his phone, opening up the timer app. He was just dragging on his own clothes when Lucy clutched at his t-shirt.

He tapped the timer on his phone to start counting the seconds. "There we go, you can do this. Deep breaths Lucy." Natsu was starting to panic a little now. The birthing centre was a good twenty minute drive away. What if Lucy had the baby in the car? Fuck. He rubbed her back, trying to take deep breaths himself to calm down.

Natsu grabbed the backpack while Lucy shuffled her feet into her slippers. He grinned at her, and she whacked him on the arm. "Shut. Up. They're the only ones that fit."

Natsu snorted. "I didn't say a thing", he grinned, getting ready to pull their front door behind him. "Let's see have we got everything? Keys, wallet, backpack, Lucy, baby. All good." He pulled the door shut, then punched his fist into the air. "Alright! Operation 'and Baby Dragneel Makes Three' ready to commence!"

Lucy snorted. "Shush you dork! It's the middle of the night, you'll wake everyone up!"

"Lovable dork", Natsu corrected, taking her hand to help her down the flight of stairs to the garage underneath the apartment block.

Lucy kissed him on the cheek. "My lovable dork", she said softly, and Natsu gifted her with a smile so wide, his eyes crinkled up so they were barely visible.

"Damn straight I am."

💕💗💕

Natsu gritted his teeth, one hand on the steering wheel, the other gripping Lucy's tightly as she moaned in the front seat next to him. They were still about ten minutes away from the birthing centre. He could just hear Wendy's voice on speaker over Lucy's moans of pain.

"That's it Lucy, you should be nearly through it now", she said, her voice calm. "Keep breathing."

Lucy sighed as the contraction eased off. "It's finished. But it hurt so much worse sitting still in the car seat."

Natsu glanced at her, then back at the road. "I'm sorry Lucy. We're nearly there babe."

"I'll let reception know, and have your records ready to admit you", said Wendy cheerfully. "See you soon!" She ended the call, and Natsu wondered how anyone could sound that cheerful at nearly 4am in the morning. But he was glad it was Wendy who was on call tonight. They'd got used to her during their regular appointments and it would be good to see a friendly face.

"Nearly there", he repeated, glancing anxiously at Lucy.

"Eyes on the road Natsu!" exclaimed Lucy, squeezing his hand.

"Sorry." His eyes darted to her, and back to the road again. "I just… I wish I could help more."

Lucy stroked his fingers. "You are helping. I couldn't do this without you." She pulled his fingers to her lips and kissed them gently. "Before I woke you up, when the pain started getting worse, I was beginning to get frightened, working myself up. As soon as you were there beside me, I wasn't frightened anymore. I'm never scared when you're with me."

Natsu's throat thickened and the backs of his eyes burned. He quickly blinked away the moisture beginning to wash into his eyes. "I'm glad. There isn't anythin' I wouldn't do for you Lucy, you know that don't ya?" He took advantage of the empty streets, and risked going a little faster, hoping if he did get a ticket he could plead his case of 'pregnant wife in active labour'. He let go of Lucy's hand momentarily so he could turn the corner. "Two more blocks Lucy. Nearly there."

Lucy whimpered in her seat, gripping the upholstery tightly as another contraction took hold. "Hnnnn. Natsu, it hurts", she panted, hunching over in her seat.

"Dammit. Fuck this." Natsu put his foot to the floor and they sped through the empty intersection against a red light, and they arrived at the driveway of the birthing centre, adjacent to the hospital. Natsu leapt out of the front seat and opened Lucy's door helping her upright so she could rock against him through the worst of the contraction.

"My hero", she whispered teasingly as it finally ebbed away. "But I'm not paying your speeding fine for you if you get one."

"As I said, anythin' for you milady", grinned Natsu, sketching his approximation of a courtly bow. "Oh look Princess, your carriage awaits." Lucy swatted him on the arm as Wendy helped her into a waiting wheelchair.

"Go and park the car you dork!"

"That's lovable dork, Lucy! Get it right, why don't ya!"

After parking the car quickly he jogged back into the birthing centre, backpack bouncing a little . The lady at reception smiled at him.

"First time Dad?" Natsu nodded, his eyes a little panicked.

"Can you tell me which room they've taken Lucy Dragneel to please?"

"Sure I can, right after you've filled in these forms", she said cheerfully, holding out a clipboard and pen. Natsu sighed audibly, but quickly filled in the information to the best of his ability, hoping the woman would be able to read his chicken scratch writing, because he couldn't be bothered to make it look neat. The receptionist glanced over the form, then grinned. "Room 12, second left. Good luck!"

Lucy was on her hands and knees on the bed when Natsu poked his head in the door. Wendy's head peeked out from behind her. "Come in Natsu!" She flicked off the rubber gloves on her hand. "9 cm dilated, 100% effacement. If you do end up with a speeding ticket, I can write them a medical certificate letting them know your wife was about to have a baby in your car."

"Natsu, another one", Lucy gasped, and Natsu was quick to cross to her side. "This isn't fair. I just had one. I don't like it, make it stop!"

"Not long now", Wendy grinned. "I'd say two or three more and you'll be ready to push this baby out Lucy."

Lucy whimpered as Natsu stroked her back firmly. She rested her head on Natsu's shoulder once the contraction had passed. "But I had a plan!" she protested in a tired petulant voice. "There was meant to be soft music, and candles, and a bath!"

Natsu snorted. "I was gonna say back at the apartment that our baby was obviously gonna take after you, because it's gettin' here early", he grinned, "but not goin' with the plan? That definitely sounds more like me!" Lucy smiled tiredly, then moaned. "Another one? You got this Lucy. Show those contractions who's boss."

Lucy moaned, pushing her head hard into Natsu's shoulder. "I can't", she whispered brokenly, her body trembling. "Can't do it. Hurts too much Natsu."

Natsu gritted his teeth, his jaw bunching. He stroked Lucy's sweaty bangs away from her forehead, looking into her pain filled eyes. "Yes you can. There's no one stronger than you Lucy. C'mon sweetheart, Wendy said you're nearly there. I love you so much, and I am so proud of you. You got this." He draped Lucy's arms around his neck, running his hands down her back. She panted as another contraction began as soon as the previous one had ended. Wendy twitched up Lucy's t-shirt dress, squatting down to take a look, then feeling with her fingers.

"Ten centimeters! Well done Lucy! When you feel the next contraction, if you feel the urge to push, you go right ahead. Let your body do what it needs to do."

Lucy clutched her arms around Natsu's neck like a lifeline, her forehead pushed into his neck, moaning as she pushed with each new contraction. Natsu kept up his whispers in her ear, telling her how strong she was, how amazing, how much he loved her. Suddenly Lucy hissed in pain, and Natsu's eyes flew to Wendy, who smiled at him, nodding her head to ease his fears.

"It's okay. I know that hurts Lucy, but that's the baby's head crowning. Nearly there."

"Did you hear that Lucy! You're so close to being done. You're so close to meeting our baby." Natsu kissed her sweaty forehead, as Lucy moaned tiredly against his neck, then braced herself as another contraction hit, panting and whimpering. "That's it, that's my girl."

"Head's out Lucy, just the shoulders to go."

Natsu watched Lucy in awe as she grit her teeth and pushed again, her eyes squeezed shut in total concentration.

"Well done! Congratulations, Natsu and Lucy, you have a daughter."

A reedy whimpering cry filled the room, then gained strength. The baby sounded extremely upset about suddenly being out in the big bright world, and Natsu and Lucy laughed together as Wendy scooped the baby up towards them, Lucy turning to lean against Natsu so their little girl could come to rest up on her chest. Apart from squalling indignantly, she was tiny, and pink and perfect. Wendy produced a small striped blanket to drape over the baby's back to keep her warm.

"Oh my baby", Lucy whispered. "I am so happy to finally meet you." All the pain of labour was forgotten in an instant as she placed her hands gently over the baby's back, and Natsu placed his hands over hers. A sniffing sound made her look upwards. "Oh Natsu."

Tears were pouring down Natsu's cheeks. "I'm sorry", he said roughly. "I don't know why I'm cryin'; I'm so happy! I guess, you were in so much pain, and I was so worried, and now she's finally here!" He sniffed again and Wendy handed him a tissue which he used to scrub away the tears roughly. "You were fuckin' awesome Lucy. I'll never forget this day, not as long as I live. You made me a Dad." He breathed out a deep sigh, then stroked his finger gently over his daughter's wet curls, which looked like they might be blonde.

"Welcome to the world, Layla Dragneel."