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some-days-we-get-sundays · 3 years ago

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It’s A Wildmoore holiday wish list🍂🍎🎃🦃❄️🎄

Picture this:

Wildmoore going to a pumpkin farm and picking apples and getting pumpkins and drinking warm cozy drinks together and snuggling under a blanket. They’re just friends at this point but the flirting and closeness has amped up. Mary suggested that her Luke, Ryan and Sophie all go out for some pg-rated fun to get to know each other better since they will all be part of The Bat Team. There are new dynamics now with Sophie having quit the crows and looking to work with The Bat Team officially. Ryan is in her second year of being The Bat and feeling like she finally isn’t flying in Kate’s shadow, and Luke is now Batwing. Mary says it’s like a professional development meeting. So they go to the pumpkin farm and cute autumn shenanigans ensue. Cue Ryan trying to show off by grabbing a huge pumpkin, only for the stem to come off of it as she is carrying it and for the pumpkin to fall onto the ground and burst. Sophie can’t stop laughing. Cue Ryan and Sophie finding a bench and sitting on it, huddling together under a flannel blanket sipping hot ciders and hot chocolates. Even though Luke and Mary tell them it’s not that cold. Sophie and Ryan roll their eyes at Luke and Mary. They all go back to Ryan and Mary’s shared place and they bake pumpkin seeds and make apple pie.

Deeper into the month of October they all go to a haunted house. Ryan is terrified of haunted houses, she claims that Black folks and horror don’t mix. Both Sophie and Luke try to lecture her about Black folks and horror and how they do mix until she says FINE I WILL GO IF YOU BOTH SHUT UP! They go to the haunted house and there is also a maze. Ryan see’s the maze and says there is absolutely no freakin’ way she is going in a maze. Sophie whispers into her ear that she’ll protect her and Ryan gets goosebumps along her entire body. They go through the haunted house and Ryan jumps into Sophie’s arms at every single sound. Even the times when there was no sound Ryan grabs Sophie’s hand or her arm because the lack of sound is also scary. Sophie pretends to be annoyed but she secretly loves protecting Ryan and she thinks Ryan being Batwoman but also being a scaredy cat is just plain adorable. They all go through the maze next and Ryan in the crisp and biting October air and eerie full moon night discreetly never lets go of Sophie’s hand. Sophie runs her thumb over Ryan’s thumb and she thinks that their hands fit perfectly together.

Thanksgiving rolls around and they all decide to have a Bat Team feast. On account of none of them having good relationships with their parents, and half of them not having parents who are alive and well, they decide to start their own tradition. Sophie invites Jordan and Jordan takes every chance she gets to elbow Sophie or wiggle her eyebrows at Sophie any time that Ryan is mentioned or any time Ryan comes over to Sophie to speak to her or any time the group laughs at something mindless and Ryan and Sophie glance at each other while laughing. Jordan regards the situation with a smirk. Sophie constantly kicks Jordan under the table. Luke and Sophie are the ones who make most of the food. Turns out Luke is a very good cook and Sophie while she doesn’t like to cook she decides to help out with most of the food. Ryan makes vegan mac and cheese that she found an amazing recipe for on youtube. Mary says she doesn’t trust herself to make food that won’t get them all sick. They thank her for not risking their lives. They all watch football even though none of them know much about football. Sophie and Ryan snuggle into each other and everyone but Jordan pretends not to notice. They all share what they are thankful for and they are all thankful for a lot of different things but one of the most important things that they are all thankful for is each other.

It’s December and Ryan loves the holidays. Nobody else is as into it as she is so she has to beg everyone to come look at Christmas lights. She begs them to put lights and a tree up in the bat cave. They all go sledding a couple of times and Joran tags along. Mostly because she loves her big sister and is happy that they are spending more time together, but also so that she can watch Ryan and Sophie pretend they don’t have feelings for each other. Jordan thinks Ryan is sexy and she’s never seen Sophie more happy than when she is around Ryan and The Bat Team. Jordan thinks about trying to get them to kiss by hanging mistletoe. They go to a ski lodge even though Luke and Mary are the only decent skiers in the group. Ryan wants to go for the ambiance. Jordan wants to learn to ski so Mary and Luke take her out for lessons while Sophie and Ryan chill in the loft near the fire place. They snuggle under the same flannel blanket that they shared in the fall. They lean against each other and share inside jokes and hushed conversation. They sip hot tea and soul soothing warm coffee. Ryan gets sleepy and she puts her head on Sophie. Sophie sees Jordan, Luke, and Mary all come back from skiing. Jordan is about to say something about how Ryan is asleep on Sophie’s shoulder but Mary puts her hand theatrically across Jordan's mouth and drags her away from Ryan and Sophie and back to their rooms.

Christmas is getting closer and Ryan tries to get them all to do Secret Santa. That is where they draw the line and Ryan pouts. Sophie later on texts Ryan and tells her that they can just get gifts for each other and not tell the others. Ryan likes this idea. Everyone is out and about and Ryan asks Sophie to come to the loft so that they can do their gift exchange. Ryan gets Sophie a beautiful gold necklace with a bat symbol on it. Sophie eyes it curiously with a twinkle in her eye. She asks Ryan if this is to remember her by. Ryan laughs and says maybe but it is also a gift to welcome her to the Bat team. Ryan tells Sophie that she is happy to have her here. Sophie asks Ryan to help her put it on and when Ryan stands behind Sophie to put the necklace around her neck her hands linger on Sophie’s collarbones and breathing from both women hitches. Sophie pulls out a small book from the large red bag she has. It’s a book about the symbolism of plants. Ryan smiles wide when she reads the cover of it. Then Sophie reaches into the bag and pulls out a small succulent plant. She tells Ryan that the succulent represents loyalty and endurance. She tells Ryan that it represents someone who is trustworthy and always there for you. She tells Ryan that she sees her in that way and that she hopes one day Ryan can see her as trustworthy and always there for her. Ryan tells her she always sees Sophie in that way. Next Sophie pulls out a small cactus plant. She tells Ryan that the cactus represents protection and endurance, it’s good for someone who is going through a hard time but is a determined person. Sophie tells Ryan that she sees her as a protector but that she always will also do her best to protect Ryan as well. Lastly she takes out a ficus plant. She tells Ryan that the ficus represents abundance and peace. It is a great plant for someone who is a leader and symbolizes unity and success. Ryan has tears in her eyes and she walks over to Sophie. She places her hand out for Sophie to take it. Sophie does and now Sophie is standing too. Ryan wraps her arms around Sophie holding her in a deep and meaningful embrace. They chat and have tea, hot chocolate and cookies and then Ryan walks Sophie to the door.

It is only a week before Christmas and the Bat team are holed up at Mary and Ryan’s loft. It’s a snow day across Gotham and thankfully Batwoman is off tonight and so is Batwing. They figure if something major goes down they will hear about it. They just want a few days where they don’t have to be superheroes. It is the holiday’s after all. Ryan has made them all watch tons of Christmas movies. They all groan about it but secretly they enjoy feeling like a family. Ryan says they should all get matching Christmas pajamas and someone throws a pillow at her. Ryan squeezes onto the couch between Sophie and Mary so that she can be close to Sophie; she is practically in her lap. Everyone regards each other with knowing looks that Ryan and Sophie don’t seem to notice. Jordan decides this is a good moment to sneak up behind them on the couch and dangle mistletoe above Ryan and Sophie’s heads. Everyone laughs nervously but Ryan leans over just the few inches and places a soft kiss on Sophie’s lips. Sophie deepens the kiss and then Jordan shouts HAPPY HOLIDAYS GOD BLESS US EVERYONE! Everyone laughs and gets into their own conversations or back into the movie playing on screen. Ryan snuggles into Sophie once again. Sophie whispers in Ryan’s ear; never failing to send shivers down Ryan’s spine, and she tells Ryan that she can’t wait for what the New Year is going to bring.

#i just wrote this so randomly yall just literally typed it up now #wildmoore #ryan wilder #cw batwoman #sophie moore #i just really love the holidays and they are almost here #i had to write a little sum for these two #it's not really a fic more like a snapshot #idk #enjoy it tho #havent written wildmoore anything in a minute #the new wildmoore ao3s inspired me

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nashvilledreams · 4 years ago

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My Naya, my Snixxx, my Bee. I legitimately can not imagine this world without you.

7 years ago today, she and I were together in London when we found out about Cory. We were so far away, but I was so thankful that we had each other. A week ago today we were talking about running away to Hawaii. This doesn’t make sense. And I know it probably never will.

She was so independent and strong and the idea of her not being here is something I cannot comprehend. She was the single most quick-witted person I’ve ever met, with a steel-trap memory that could recall the most forgettable conversations from a decade ago verbatim. The amount of times she would memorize all of those crazy monologues on Glee the morning of and would never ever mess up during the scene… I mean, she was clearly more talented than the rest of us. She was the most talented person I’ve ever known. There is nothing she couldn’t do and I’m furious we won’t get to see more.

I’m thankful for all the ways in which she made me a better person. She taught me how to advocate for myself and to speak up for the things and people that were important to me, always. I’m thankful for the times I grew an ab muscle from laughing so hard at something she said. I’m thankful she became like family. I’m thankful that my dad happened to have met her weeks before I did and when I got Glee, he told me to “look out for a girl named Naya because she seemed nice.” Well dad, she was nice and she became one of my favorite people ever.

If you were fortunate enough to have known her, you’ll know that her most natural talent of all was being a mother. The way that she loved her boy, it was truly Naya at her most peaceful. I’m thankful that Naya got that beautiful little boy back on that boat. I’m thankful he will have a strong family around him to protect him and tell him about his incredible mom.

I just hope more than anything that her family is given the space and time to come to terms with this. For having such tiny body, Naya had such a gigantic presence, a void that will now be felt by all of us - those of us who knew her personally and the millions of you who loved her through your TVs. I love you, Bee.

My favorite duet partner. I love you. I miss you. I don’t have words right now, just lots of feelings. Rest In Peace Angel, and know that your family will never have to worry about anything.

We started out as the closest friends and then like all new things, we went through a bit of a rocky phase. However, we stuck by each other’s side and created the most beautiful friendship built out of love and understanding. The last I had the chance to see you in person, I had left oranges outside our home for you to take. I wanted to say hi through the window but my phone didn’t ring when you called (which it never does, f*cking T-Mobile), so instead you and Josey left two succulents on our doorstep as a thank you. I planted those succulents and I look at them everyday and think of you. I still listen to your EP on repeat because from the moment I heard it, it struck me and I always wished the world knew more of your voice. You sent me over 5 dozen SnapChat videos when you and Josey woke up in the morning and I kick myself that I didn’t save one of them. You always shared recipes and I admired your love for food. We vowed to spend every Easter together, even though Covid stole this last one from us. You are and always will be the strongest and most resilient human being I know, and I vowed to carry that with me as I continue to live my life.

You constantly taught me lessons about grief, about beauty and poise, about being strong, resilient and about not giving a fuck (but still somehow respectful). Yet, the utmost important lesson I learned most of all from you was being a consistent and loving friend. You were the first to check in, the first to ask questions, the first to listen..you cherished our friendship and I never took that for granted.

We never took photos together because we mutually hated taking pictures...our relationship meant more than proof. I have countless pictures of our babies playing, because we shared that kind of pride and joy. So I’m showing the world a photo of our little goof balls for you, because I know that meant more than anything and they remind me of you and I. I speak to you everyday because I know you’re still with me and even though I’m feeling greedy that we don’t get more time together, I cherish every moment we had and hold it close to my heart.

There are no words and yet so many things I want to say, I don't believe I'll ever be able to articulate exactly what I feel but... Naya, you were a ⚡️ force and everyone who got to be around you knew it and felt the light and joy you exuded when you walked into a room. You shined on stage and screen and radiated with love behind closed doors.

I was lucky enough to share so many laughs, martinis and secrets with you. I can not believe I took for granted that you'd always be here. Our friendship went in waves as life happens and we grow, so I will not look back and regret but know I love you and promise to help the legacy of your talent, humor, light and loyalty live on.

You are so loved. You deserved the world and we will make sure Josey and your family feel that everyday. I miss you already.

She was bold. She was outrageous. She was a LOT of fun.⁣

Naya made me laugh like no one else on that set. I always said it while we were working together and I’ve maintained it ever since. Her playful, wicked sense of humor never ceased to bring a smile to my face.⁣

She played by her own rules and was in a class of her own. She had a brashness about her that I couldn’t help but be enchanted by. I also always loved her voice, and savored every chance I got to hear her sing. I think she had more talent than we would have ever been able to see.⁣

I was constantly moved by the degree to which she took care of her family, and how she looked out for her friends. She showed up for me on numerous occasions where she didn’t have to, and I was always so grateful for her friendship then, as I certainly am now.⁣

And even as I sit here, struggling to comprehend, gutted beyond description- the very thought of her cracks me up and still brings a smile to my face. That was Naya’s gift. And it's a gift that will never go away. ⁣

Rest in peace you wild, hilarious, beautiful angel.

How can you convey all your love and respect for someone in one post? How can you summarize a decade of friendship and laughter with words alone? If you were friends with Naya Rivera, you simply can’t. Her brilliance and humor were unmatched. Her beauty and talent were otherworldly. She spoke truth to power with poise and fearlessness. She could turn a bad day into a great day with a single remark. She inspired and uplifted people without even trying. Being close to her was both a badge of honor and a suit of armor. Naya was truly one of a kind, and she always will be. 💔 Sending all my love to her wonderful family and her beautiful son.

Dear Naya,

I’m failing miserably to process this news. I always imagined old future senior moments where we would hear your infectious laughter down the hall knowing that our funny bone was in for a treat. To many people, myself included, you were the life of the party. Not only able to rock when fun was to be had after a long day but that shining friend that was always willing to listen, offer sympathy, perspective and at times, give much needed levity to any situation.

You were a beast on the show. I admired you as I watched you nail multi page monologues that you learned moments before and pour your heart into every performance with an energy that had that snicks special written all over it. Our deep conversations about life inbetween scenes are some of my favorite moments with you. Getting to hear about your hopes and dreams for the future and with Josey’s arrival, ‘Your greatest success’ I was so happy to see your dream turn into reality.

You deserved more. I’m so sorry but you deserved more. You gave life your all and I hope all the good that you have given to the world will be returned in abundance when you reunite with our brother in the heavenly skies. I’m so grateful for our memories. We will make sure to keep your legacy and spirit alive so Josey will grow up to know the incredible woman you were. Love you, Naya. You are already missed. Eternally.

-HSJ

Naya and I fell into stride with such ease, she was my first friend and ally on our show. In the pilot, our characters came and went with such swiftness. Our enthusiasm brimmed with all of the unknown. We tried to grasp what the other cast members must be feeling as we were working in such separate manners. We dared to dream. What if this show worked? Wouldn’t that be something? Something was brimming, it was palpable. And thank god it worked. Naya’s magnetic talent was going to be unleashed, we just didn’t know it yet. ⁣⁣

I’ve been revisiting Naya’s performances on our show and it has brought me great joy. To work with her was a gift. There was a great deal to absorb - her work ethic, her fearlessness, her talent - supreme. Naya had a laugh that would envelop you and hold you captive. She was mesmerizing. That twinkle in her eye, her luminous smile. Naya lead with truth, humor, wit. I loved her for all of these reasons. ⁣⁣

I loved her sense of curiosity and wanderlust. I was lucky enough to be her travel partner for some of my most favorite adventures. As I write this, I’m grinning with swelling memories of a spontenaous 36 hour excursion - one might even say diversion - to Paris. With Naya, everything was possible and would often simply unfold before us, almost magically.⁣⁣

On this particular jaunt, within ten minutes of checking into our hotel, we found ourselves strolling the halls of L'École des Beaux-Arts, sipping wine from paper cups with students showcasing their latest work. It was fantastic. We were united in our commitment to discovery. And there was always a list of cleverly curated ideas in Naya’s back pocket, should we need it. ⁣⁣

I cannot make sense of this tremendous loss. I will hold onto her and these memories for the rest of time, alongside our Glee family. Please hold space for her, her family, her beautiful boy. ⁣⁣

In absolute, loving memory.

Naya The world is at such a loss and I am truly heartbroken. I still remember the day I met you. You Walked straight up to me, grabbed me by the face and drug me around until I met every single person on set, introducing me as “new booty”. You were one of the first people who made me feel like family when others saw me as an outsider. I didn’t know then that you would become my family and that’s just who you were to everyone.. A Mother, Sister, Daughter and most of all a friend. Your massive heart and bright spark is what carried our entire show, when at times we all felt like giving up.

You always showed up for me when I needed some wisdom or was down and just needed someone to talk to. You took care of everyone around you in a way that was so warm and comforting and you sure knew how to throw a hell of a party!

I always admired your bravery and passion to fight for what’s right even when it seemed like you were up against the world. Your spirit is contagious and you continue to make everyone you have touched a better and stronger person by knowing you.

My favorite part of glee was getting to watch you perform and shine up close every day. You really were the pulse of that show. Anyone who was blessed enough to see and experience your raw talent knows it to be true. You’re one of the smartest and most gifted people I have ever met. There is no one like you and there never will be.

You have changed peoples lives all around the world and you continue to change mine forever. I will never forget your love and kindness. Thank you for sharing your spirit Angel.

I will miss you always. I Love you Naya

For the last 7 years the 13th of July has shattered our hearts beyond repair. There aren’t enough words to describe the pain we are feeling, we are truly heartbroken at the loss of @nayarivera .

Naya, Cory loved you so so much. He cherished your friendship more than you will ever know. From the laughs you shared, to the strength you gave him when he needed it the most. Cory truly adored you. He was in awe of your incredible talent, the way you gave everything you had to each performance; the slap in the auditorium was one of his favourite stories to share. You once said Cory was like a member of your family; you will always be a part of ours. We’ll carry you in our hearts forever. We miss you. Friends reunited for eternity.

We send all our love and strength to your beautiful boy, your family, friends and fans 💔🐻💔

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likeholymary · 4 years ago

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— untitled i.

playlist | masterlist

summary: once dear friends in college, obi-wan and (y/n) have bumped into each other in the capitol city of coruscant while both working there. will they rekindle their old romance from their college years, or will they remain as passing faces in each other’s lives? takes place in college years and 10+ years after.

a/n: ANGST. ANGST. ANGST. i didn’t mean to make it so angst but HOT DANG, here it is! also, try to think of coruscant like washington, d.c. also twin suns is definitely like a hybrid of starbucks and rain forest café, i don’t make the rules here, my crackhead brain does. basically rain forest café vibes but make it tatooine, and it’s a coffeehouse not a restaurant, lmao. also no warnings!

word count: 2.2k words

present.

The Twin Suns Coffee Bar was calling your name. While a multinational chain of coffeehouses, you couldn’t deny the desperate need for some caf and perhaps a small pastry on your way to work. Besides, the Twin Suns never failed to remind you of your home back in Tattooine, with its warm aesthetics and familiar scents, it was without a doubt your favorite coffeehouse to go to anywhere you went.

You smoothed your cream-colored blazer out some more as you entered into the bar, taking in the deep scents of the multiple different roasts, the sweet aroma of freshly made caramel and fluffy, buttery pastries just waiting to be devoured, the warmth of the orange and yellow lamps.

It was heavenly.

Twin Suns was different because they made each coffeehouse feel as if you were stepping into Tatooine. Covered with muted pink and burnt orange walls, black ceilings, and dark wooden countertops and tables decorated with small green plants like cactuses and succulents, it was truly a delight. The only difference, you and Anakin would joke, was that it was never dry like Tatooine, but rather moist like a rainforest.

Thinking of Anakin, you remembered that you had dinner with him, Padmé, Ahsoka, and the twins tonight. Fishing out your phone from your leather ‘mom purse’, as Ahsoka would say, you rapidly typed up a text to your group chat, just checking in that your plans were still on for the night.

You knew how busy Anakin and Padmé could be, especially with Anakin back to work as an aerospace engineer after having been a stay-at-home dad, while Padmé worked almost religiously as a congresswoman.

And you?

Well, you enjoyed working as a journalist for The Coruscant Times, the nations most trusted newspaper. You didn’t always work in the office, in fact, for many years you were the best field journalist. You loved your time there, but if there was ever hope of you having a social life, or Maker-forbid, a family, than you needed to settle down and begin your career in the office.

There were days where you ached just to get back out there and be with the people, but now you wrote as a columnist, commenting on a range of content, from the political ongoings of the world to the hottest new restaurants in capitol.

You were too busy texting Anakin something quippy in response to your ‘mom behavior’ (where did he and Ahsoka pick that up from?), when you bumped into the person ahead of you. At the sound of his deep voice, you froze, slowly looking up into those deep cerulean eyes, and, knowing in that moment, that you were in trouble.

“I should have known I would have bumped into you here.”

At the mention of Anakin’s roommate, you remembered he hadn’t introduced you yet. In fact, this was the first time you hadn’t heard about Obi-Wan Kenobi since Anakin had come home for the summer, before you two returned together to get you moved into the freshmen dorms.

Anakin and his elusive roommate had apparently gotten into a lot of trouble during their freshmen year together, constantly causing something around campus. Her favorite story was how they had accidentally started a campus protest when Obi-Wan and Anakin were joking about droid rights, which led to them personally asking droids around campus if they wanted to be free. Other students picked up on it, taking it much more seriously than anything Anakin could, and well... you get the picture.

Chuckling lightly to yourself as you both treaded the sidewalk headed for his townhouse, you asked, “Obi-Wan a big reader?”, to which Anakin groaned, “The biggest reader. There’s books everywhere around our place. It’s hard not to bump into his stacks.”

“His stacks?”

“Just you wait.” He darkly chuckled as he flipped through his keys before finding the right one and unlocking the door.

Anakin wasn’t lying.

Books were stacked in every corner, pressed against the side tables by the couches, even tiny hidden stacks had snuck their way underneath the tables, and even smaller ones underneath the couch itself, thin little books in small stacks lined together.

“Anakin! For kriffsake, could you for once in your life clean up your dishes when you make—“

The voice carrying itself through the house came through the hall to the right of the kitchen, before coming through and appearing as a tall man.

This was no boy, and there was no way this could be Anakin’s friend.

Six feet tall, this Obi-Wan was beautiful. His golden auburn locks were a bit messy, but he quickly brushed his fingers through them smoothing them out and at the same time making himself look even more attractive. You couldn’t help but be captivated by his cerulean eyes that were being pierced by the sunlight pouring through the window in their living area.

“Oh, this must be your friend, (Y/N), correct?” You blinked a few times before reaching out your hand to shake his outstretched one. You swallowed down you anxiety and nodded your head, attempting a smile, but you were sure you were failing miserably.

“Yes, and you’re the infamous Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

He grinned wildly, a glimmer of some cheeky nature apparent in his eyes and you couldn’t help but think that he would be some kind of trouble in your life.

present.

“It is lovely to see you, darling.”

The statement almost made your knees falter, and in another time him calling you ‘darling’ would have made you weak in the knees, but that was a lifetime you tried to forget, lest you get lost once more in the memories.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you back here.” You had crossed your arms at this point, attempting to throw up some guard. Don’t get in my head, don’t get in my head. Focus, you’re literally just here for a cup of coffee, get on with this awkward conversation with the man you were formerly, emphasis on formerly, in love with.

He didn’t seem fazed by your blunt statement, instead moving forward in the line, his eyes beckoning for you to follow. You stepped forward but tried to inch away from him as much as possible while still staying in line. Your eyes flicked to the barista at the register, as if willing her to take orders faster, wishing you could just get out of here.

Why had he come back? What was he doing here? The last you had heard of him had been while he was stationed in Mandalore, he had a girlfriend, some former classmate of Padmé’s, Satine...

He hadn’t even bothered to tell you. Instead you had found out from Anakin after the twins were born and you came to meet the two newborns.

You thought he would have told you, after all, you two had started off as friends.

“I was asked to come work at the University at their research facility.”

Of course he had.

Obi-Wan had always wanted to be a research scientist and make new discoveries about the world, which you supposed was largely due to his adventurous nature. He had graduated with his degree in biochemical engineering, with a masters in biology and clinical research (again, as stated, he was a nerd).

It was why he had so many books around his and Anakin’s apartment, and at one point, your apartment. You almost missed bumping into all those stacks of books every morning on your way to making your coffee.

“Well then I suppose you must be headed to work.”

“Yes, I am.” “Well, I am too, and I’m running late, so could you order already?”

You snapped, motioning to the barista whose register was now open.

The barista looked just as uncomfortable as you felt about your small outburst, but you just wanted to get out of there. You couldn’t think and it felt hard to breathe, despite you wearing your comfortable slacks that were never too tight, but right in this moment, they felt like they were binding you together, making it impossible to take a singular breath.

Obi-Wan stepped forward, just as calm and cool as ever, which only aggravated you more, and ordered a Nitro Cold Brew, before paying and walking to the pick-up area. How he could just so casually walk back into your life, as if he hadn’t broken you completely, his memory continually taking a pick and hammering new cracks into you here and there when you remembered something as simple as his smile, or heard your song on the radio, remembered him singing you to sleep or while you danced in the kitchen together....

“Ma’am, can I take your order?” “Yes yes, I’m so sorry...”

You quickly ordered your usual, the Twin Suns Double Shot on Ice with white mocha sauce added in. As you went to pay, the barista shyly told you that the man in front of you had already paid for your drink. Of course he had. So, in apology for your outburst, you fished a 10 dollar bill out of your purse and put it in the tip jar. You wished the barista a nice day, and moved on to the waiting area, tapping your foot as you stood and watched the other baristas speedily making their customers drinks.

“Still ordering the same thing I see. You haven’t changed a bit.” Obi-Wan said from behind you, and you could just hear the smirk in his voice.

You didn’t turn around. “Well you certainly have changed, Obi-Wan.”

The ambience around you was fuzzy - crowded voices chattering, a couple laughing to themselves in the corner, looking much like a young you and Obi. The thought stung painfully, and you tried not to show any emotion, but it was so hard not to when you felt every single one. New feelings, old emotions, a blur between what had past and what was going on right now, in this moment.

“How so?”

Despite being shorter than him, you turned you gaze upwards sharply, your eyes not wavering despite wanting to get lost in his stormy-sea-like ones.

“I once thought Obi-Wan Kenobi considered me a friend, a confidant, but I was mistaken. I thought you cared about me, cared enough to treat me at least decently, but I suppose I was wrong.” You bit your lip, trying desperately not to think about the memory of the night you broke up.

“I thought we could carry on as friends, but I suppose once you were done with me you were done. And now?” His eyes flickered with hurt, but you could tell he wasn’t trying to defend himself, but instead was trying to devote every attention to you.

“Now you try to act as if we are still friends. And that’s something I know will never happen again.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to speak, but the barista called out your orders, foiling any chance he had to explain or defend himself.

You stepped in front of him, going to grab your drink, not even turning around to look back at him as you opened the door and walked away.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

Obi-Wan was running towards you, despite trying to navigate through the crowds of people and all while trying to not spill his own cup of coffee on himself. You didn’t bother to stop. You needed to get to work, and more importantly, you needed to process the wild morning you had just had, hoping you could still stomach your favorite coffee with the bundle of nerves blazing harshly in your middle.

“(Y/N), please-” He had grabbed your wrist, trying to get you to stop, but this only infuriated you more.

“Obi-Wan, can’t you see I am not interested in hearing whatever sob story you have? You are the one who broke up with me. You are the one who left and didn’t dare look back at the consequences.”

Once again you were forced to bite your lip, willing the tears attempting to build up to break themselves back down. You would not give him any more tears, not a single one. At least... not in front of him. You made a mental note to call Padmé during lunch for a brief therapy session.

“And these are the consequences. Goodbye.”

You left Obi-Wan standing in the crowd, not daring to look back and see those eyes, those eyes that could capture you once more and then leave you just as quickly as they had come and graced you.

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stark-tony · 3 years ago

Text

most recent bookmarks (6/18/21)

mcu

you game? cake time? by iron_spider (3k, T, pepperony) Peter stares at him.“I’d like your help,” Tony says, gesturing towards the ton of cakes. “Your refined palette.”Peter snorts. He can’t lie, excitement is rising in his throat and in his stomach, and he barely ate at lunch today because he was trying to finish up the book report before sixth period. “Does Miss Potts know you picked me?”“You can call her Pepper.”Peter cocks his head. “Does Pepper know you picked me to help you?”

The Dangers of Sleeping on the Upside of the Bed by Honorable_mention (1.1k, G, gen, quarantine) Midtown High School’s Academic Decathlon team had moved online. Once a week, even during the summer, everyone would log on and chat for a few minutes before trying to beat each other on Protobowl while hurling barely school appropriate threats at each other. It was really quite a lot of fun.Through these online meetings Cindy Moon had gotten the opportunity to intimately learn about her teammates in a way she hadn’t been able to when they were in-person. A person’s room and the way they talked to their family told you a lot about them.In which the members of the Academic Decathlon team get the chance to meet Peter's roommates

something bright coming his way by iron_spider (6.5k, T, gen, hurt peter) “Pete,” Tony’s voice says. “I’m heading to your location.”Peter narrows his eyes. Karen’s colors turn from dark red to a softer blue, which he takes as her celebrating Tony’s imminent arrival. How imminent? What?“What?” Peter says again. Like an idiot.“Your numbers aren’t what I like to see and you stopped moving and I was in the area, anyway. You know. Doing Iron Man things. You okay?”Peter blinks. He sees some more lights out ahead of him that he thinks are headlights, and he feels like Karen is trying to even out his vision by changing how things come across on the HUD. She’s failing, but he won’t say that. Can she read his brainwaves? No. Definitely not. Maybe. Either way he doesn’t wanna be mean to her, so he stops thinking.Ugh, his side hurts.

Of All the Nurses’ Offices in All the High Schools... by sahiya (7k, T, gen, outsiders pov, identity reveal, hurt peter) Peter Parker has his own gravitational orbit, and it tends to suck in the people around him. Including burned out school nurses who were just minding their own business.Or: Patrick Carmichael meets Spider-Man (and Tony Stark), adopts a cat, and gets just a little bit better.

a first time for everything by crowkag (7.7k, pepperony, sick peter) “Why are you whispering?” Pepper was asking, and the other noises were receding away behind the creak of a door and click of a lock.“Because I’m hosting a vigilante super-teen with enhanced hearing this weekend.” He slumped back into the couch cushions. “Or did you forget?”There was a sharp intake of breath.“Peter? Oh god, what did you—”“Nothing,” Tony rushed out, scrambling. “He’s fine. The kid’s fine, honey.”A beat of silence.“Okay, well, he’s not fine, but—”“Tony Stark—”

Is he or Is he not? by Omenthia_Arc (43.2k, G, pepperony, 5 + 1, people think peter is tony’s kid) Five times someone thought that Peter was Tony's biological son and one time everyone thought it.

The Moon Looks Lovely Tonight by Omi_Ohmy (35.7k, M, drarry, post-hogwarts, domestic) When Harry moves into the damp and empty Black house, it doesn’t quite feel like home. And then the first owl moves in. After that, it’s a steep slope leading to bed-sharing, more owls, assorted housemates, strange potions experiments, and terrible cooking. And a bit of waltzing, too.

The Wrong Sort by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle (289.5k, T, drarry, romione, gryffindor draco, canon divergence, torture) In which Draco Malfoy is sorted into Gryffindor and everything kind of goes to Hell from there… but hey. At least there’s a chance he won’t grow up to be an awful person. Alternatively titled ‘Draco Malfoy and the Worst Goddamn Seven Years of His Life’

The Mirror of Ecidyrue by starbrigid (998.6k, E, drarry, wolfstar, romione, neville/ luna, grindeldore, lockhart/snape, time travel, fix it, abuse) All it takes is one look in a mirror and an ill-advised attempt to shatter it, before an embittered Draco Malfoy fresh out of Azkaban is sent back into his body on the day he gets his Hogwarts letter.Suddenly, Draco has an unwanted second chance, with a Sorting Hat that doesn't know what to do with him, a certain Muggleborn who won't leave his study table alone, and green eyes he just can't get out of his head. And then there's his new wand, whose choice of him could just mark him as every bit as dark a wizard as his name means he should be.

more than getting by by sarewolf (34.4k, M, wolfstar, wolfstar raises harry) “What do you want me to do?” Remus says, tiredly. All he wants is to curl up on his bed. Smoke a pack of cigarettes. Get drunk. He can’t stop looking at Harry.“Remus...” Dumbledore is gentle. Remus hates when he has that tone. Hates that he knows it will hurt. “There is no one else left.”A bitter laugh escapes him. “So you’ll curse the poor thing with a werewolf for a guardian?”

How Like Home by waitingondaisies (63.5k, T, jily, dimension travel) When Sirius falls through the veil, Harry chases after him, determined to find him on the other side. Instead, he finds nothing at all. When he wakes up, he is informed by Unspeakables that he is from an alternate universe.Thanks to his uncanny resemblance to his counterpart, Harry is readily recognized as a duplicate of Harry Potter, a normal fifteen year old boy, and is entrusted to the care of Lily and James Potter. From them, Harry discovers that Voldemort is not, and never was, a threat in this universe.Now, Harry must adapt to life with loving parents in a peaceful world.

Professor Black by Haunted_Frost (29k, T, wolfstar, professor regulus black) Kreacher's unending loyalty has allowed Regulus to survive the Inferi. In order to destroy the horcrux and ensure Voldemort's death, he goes back to Hogwarts, this time as a Potions professor. Years at this position give him new insights, even as the papers rave about how both the Blacks were traitors to their sides.When Sirius gets loose from Azkaban, Regulus knows one thing: he is not going to let his lunatic brother hurt his students.Inspired entirely by this tumblr post.

atla

(let me be) there for you by lesmiserablol (8.5k, T, zukka, post-war, bodyguard sokka, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers) Sokka pulls out a clean piece of parchment and starts to write:Reasons Why Sokka Would Be A Great Bodyguard for Lord ZukoHe smiles in satisfaction at the title. Seeing it in writing only makes him feel more confident in this brilliant, two-minute-old idea of his. Zuko is one of his closest friends, and Sokka is a great fighter, he would be the perfect bodyguard! He has the entirety of his trip in the Fire Nation to prove it to Zuko. This is going to be a piece of cake.(or, Sokka mistakes his crush for just a strong desire to be a guard for Zuko, and Suki is amused)

boy problems by burnt_oranges (22.2k, zukka, mailee, friends to lover, post-war, arranged marriage) “I accidentally signed off on an arranged marriage to Sokka,” Zuko says faintly. He sits up so fast he almost falls out of his chair. “I signed off on an arranged marriage to Sokka, and he agreed."In which Zuko suffers in a variety of ways, including but not limited to: close and constant proximity to the object of his affections, assassination attempts, and irreparable injuries to his dignity.

we really should google these things first by Bundibird (3k, G, gen, modern) Sokka's aloe vera plant is in need of a good pruning, and what's Sokka gonna do, just throw out all the pruned leaves? When instead he can make aloe vera juice? Come on. (Only - maybe he should have googled this beforehand. Because it turns out there's an edible kind of aloe, and a toxic kind. Guess what kind Sokka has. Go on, guess.)(Or: the modern AU based on the time I nearly poisoned myself with a non-edible succulent.)

spn

Checked Out by whelvenwings (27.1k, G, destiel, dreamhunter, library au, librarian castiel, writer dean, openly bi dean, misunderstandings) Castiel Novak can think of many writers who would not be welcome under the roof of Heaven’s Gate library, where he is the librarian: Ayn Rand ranks highly (no explanation needed), as does Charles Dickens (he hasn’t forgiven Charles for the month he lost to The Pickwick Papers). And, of course, Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, local author and obvious a-hole, who is entirely too handsome to be true and who is clearly totally lacking in profundity, intelligence, sincerity, and self-awareness. Unfortunately, though, Dean’s been invited to do a book signing at Heaven’s Gate - and Castiel’s about to be confronted by some unexpected feelings when he finally meets Dean for the first time.

Aim and Ignite by wincechesters (10.3k, M, destiel, cas in the bunker) After the angels fall and Cas loses his grace, and with Sam still recovering from the toll taken on his body by the trials, Dean starts a prank war as a way to lighten the mood in the bunker and alleviate his boredom. It might just have some unexpected consequences. --- A post-S8 canon AU.

bnha

Izuku plays video games with the League of Villains (among other things) by ADyingFlower (54.2k, T, gen, quirkless midoriya, villain deku) Izuku plays video games with the League of Villains, denies being a villain, has his beloved animal crossing file threatened, kicks ass with a shotgun, is proposed to, learns to deal with his depression, and accidentally kidnaps the son of the number two hero. In that order.Or: Five times Izuku played online with his friends, and one time he played with them in personThen Himiko screams.“CAPTAIN!” “Y-yeah?” Tomura asks almost hesitantly. “LOOK!!” All four of them spin around, right as a cannonball comes soaring inches from Izuku’s head from the Galleon less than a three feet away from them. They scream. “OH FUCK NO NO NO NO! NO!” Dabi yells, running to load the cannons. “DUDE WE HAVE SO MUCH SHIT! NO! HOLY FUCKING SHIT!”“Hey guys, guys! Hey, chill!” Izuku shrieks frantically, right as one of the players boards their ship and starts shooting. “CHILL THE FUCK OUT!”

our trust shot full of holes by nolov (louscr) (25.9k, T, gen) When he's twelve, Izuku meets his best friend. Neither of them are especially good at having friends, but they make do.The other shoe drops less than a week into his first year at U.A.

Are You Valued? by cyber_phobia (9.2k, T, dad for one) "What are you drawing, Izuku?" Hisashi asks with adoration dripping in his voice. "It's Uncle!" Izuku shouts, smacking his dad's arm for daring to ask once more. All the air leaves Hisashi's lungs in one fell swoop.

To Spark A Smile by awefull (1.1k, G, gen, dadzawa) A six-year-old. Aizawa was the guardian of a six-year-old. Aizawa, a pro-hero, who had poor eating habits, and no sleep schedule, was in charge of raising a little girl.He, reasonably, had some concerns.

Long Night in the Valley by Marsalias (53.7k, T, gen, suspected traitor, dad might, dad for one) On paper, the Hero Commission's plan to investigate Midoriya Izuku under the guise of a training course for combating mental quirks is solid, almost foolproof, even. If Midoriya turns out to be innocent, they can pass everything off as part of the training exercise, assuming he even remembered any of it. Otherwise, they could beg forgiveness after the traitor was securely imprisoned in Tartarus.The paper plan failed to take into account the feral ghosts living in Midoriya Izuku's head, or his equally feral living friends.Time to bring on the chaos.

i gave the voices in my head a megaphone by hannahbal (17.3k, todoroki/midoriya/shinsou) ...and they started singing Megan Thee Stallion.(Hitoshi, like any good friend, brainwashes Izuku’s anxiety away for a day so he can know some peace. The problem? Izuku has no fear of god or consequences.Izuku also has no goddamn filter.)

Nothing Could Be More Worthwhile by Krisington (3.5k, G, gen, dad might) Toshinori Yagi wouldn’t say he had let his guard down in retirement, not exactly. It was more accurate to say that he had let his guard down in his true form. He didn’t notice others, and others didn’t notice him. It had become a small pleasure, he realized, one he was reluctant to let go.He should have known better.The man managed to reach All Might’s forehead a split second before All Might grabbed the man’s arm. But a second was just enough.A villain showed All Might a vision of Izuku. Bloodied. Broken. Fading. Was that some future that would come to pass? Toshinori needed to do everything in his power to make sure it wasn't.

everything i wanted by raindrops_0 (9k, T, gen, 5 + 1) Izuku turns to face Hitoshi and flashes a bright smile, eyes folding into crescent moons.Bright like the afternoon sun swallowing Hitoshi whole, bright like All Might’s fucking perfect grin, bright like he’s already a hero.Bright like everything Hitoshi has ever wanted and then more.(Hitoshi can’t help it, but he hates. Of course Izuku can smile as if the whole world is in his hands. He’s never had to fight for every little thing and be hated for it.)Or 5 times Hitoshi misjudged the golden boy of UA, and 1 time he finally understood.

hp/bnha

Bend Before You Break by orkestrations (16.2k, T, gen) When Izuku set out for his morning run, the last thing he was expecting was to be plucked from his own world by magic and thrown into another universe entirely.Removed from his own conflict and with no way back, he sets himself to figuring out this world and its own incipient war while searching for a way to possibly reverse the spell that brought him here.It's just his luck that the year he arrives is the same year the government decides it's a great idea to bring back the potentially-deadly tournament.

#my fics recs #most recent bookmarks #hp recs #atla recs #mcu recs #bnha recs #spn recs #abuse tw #torture tw

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 12)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 11

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Protectiveness for his child of surprise may be the only thing that could get a witcher confessing to a midget with all of his pent up aggression and kept up feelings that he has been dealing since day one because he knew he wasn’t just protecting Cirilla. Deep inside, he was also protecting you from the wicked that lurks throughout the continent; trying hard to wipe you out of their dimension by hook or by crook. One kiss is all it takes for all the frustration to stop...or maybe not?

Warnings: Slight angst? MEAN Geralt. Sweet Geralt too. Soft Geralt too. (It’s kind of a tough contrast don’t you think? HAHAHA!) Jaskier feeling...things that shouldn’t be felt. Uh-oh. Reader being frustrated and infuriated. Cirilla being a sweetheart! Modern references included!

Words: 7,1k

A/N: Smut will come in Chapter 14 and 15. Yes, two chapters for the filth! Because...Why not?! (*frustrated potato*) I THINK TUMBLR IS ACTING UP. I SEE FICS WHERE I’M TAGGED BUT I AM NOT INFORMED. ALSO, I CAN’T INCLUDE PICS OR GIFS FROM MY LAPTOP! *angry growls* I’m lucky because i’ve had my banners and other gifs in my drafts last night and Tumblr is acting up today!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Your days have been quite a torture. A mix of embarrassment and full blown flusters when Geralt was around. It was simply a slip of the moment as you were too enamored by the witcher and his succulent lips that you oh-so-idiotically swerved when you could've went straight for the target instead.

Yet, here you were. Torturing yourself by taunting the witcher the day after the time you've began your self-assuring tease by telling Geralt what you've been feeling since the day you've arrived.

Now, you were being punished? Or probably suffering from a serious case of insomnia and the idea of missing his presence because the witcher wasn't around and it has already been days.

What if he gets hurt? You mindlessly talked to your alter ego, receiving a response that he's a tough one and a pretty skillful swordsman, so worrying about it like a wife does to her husband who was a soldier can be toned down to the slightest.

God, those lips. You were an idiotic potato for even doing the first move and eventually failing as you do so; like a five year old giving her crush a kiss. Well, pretty much five year old were more confident than you in this condition.

Warm palms spread through your shoulder, giving you a fright as you sat back and your tushie fell to the ground with a soft thud; with Kolby giving you those scary smile of his that made you want to pat his head but today, it seems like you weren't in the mood and that there was something bothering you with your thoughts wandering about Geralt. The witcher himself and only him.

You were acting like a clingy girlfriend when you both weren't lovers at all. Maybe, being delusional and creating fan-fics about your celebrity crushes back at your apartment wasn't enough that you even had to think that Geralt would want to be with you forever like how such happy endings in stories must have been.

What if he was just one horny man who wanted to hulk-smash because you were different than his flock of felines?

Well, it wasn't like you weren't acting the same way like a toey teenager when he hauled you closer to his chest; giving him the heart eyes.

Why must he be a white-haired hunk of a man who knew how to fight and knew magic? Even skillful with his sword?

"Oh---Geralt!" you shrieked out of the blue, the body heat of Jaskier's presence radiating beside you as he sat crouched with a crooked smile, "I must say, you're quite obsessed with the witcher since that awfully intimate moment you've had in the bathing room,"

You ignored the teasing tone he omitted and went on to shooting a question you've been bothering him since the day Geralt was out and about, "Where's Geralt?" hence, the bard could already hear the tiny whines for the presence of the witcher and he couldn't help but scoff.

"You're hurting my poor heart for asking Geralt when it's actually a pretty handsome bard in front of you,"

Your lips instantaneously jutted out in a sad pout, exhaling a long sigh as you shifted your legs into a criss-cross position; staring into space, "I need Geralt," pause and another sigh, "---I miss Geralt,"

The sudden strong yearning was becoming worse each day without Geralt around. It felt incomplete, unsatisfying and utterly frustrating that he wasn't with you, nor can you even sleep without feeling those fingers of his raking your hair even though it was only done one time.

Heck, you were worried that maybe Geralt used magic within you when you've taken your slumber because the feelings you have for him was turning insufferable, irksome when you want something but has never been given and utmost round the bend.

All you wanted and ever asked for was Geralt. Geralt. Geralt. Geralt. In which, confused the bard because you've become too attached after the Djinn incident.

"This is certainly a huge relationship development if you're finding him that miserably all the time," Jaskier stated the obvious, his laugh sounding disturbed because of your new personality that he'd noticed; or maybe you were one of those types of women?

Though, what baffles him the most is that there are days where you actually don't try to find him; like you were being just you and not one needy lady whom asks for only the witcher when he'll be coming home. Just the timid, naive small rat he knew.

There were also strange instances whenever you sleep back in Geralt's chambers; as he was writing another new epic he'd ought to create, the bard heard you whimpering and sobbing like you were in pain when it was already two in the morning.

He'd wanted to check up on you. Though, he was quite doubtful because a woman deserves whatever space and respect; thinking that maybe you were spending some wonderful time with yourself and had the pleasant time to take it while Geralt wasn't around. But, your whimpers were something else. It was a mixture of pain and distress.

Therefore, Jaskier tried to ignore your hushed outcries, although he could technically hear it from the other side of the room. The draft of his epic now forgotten as he fidgeted; he went on with dipping the tip of his feather on the ink and write nothing on his piece of parchment.

After hearing those nightly weeps of yours, the bard never left your side. Especially when you were alone in the morning, thinking that you were having a mental breakdown and actually just missing the witcher.

He could do just that. Distract you with his talkative self and so he did.

"A witcher needs to do what he always does," the bard reassured, waving off Kolby who tried sniffing his ear.

You've snapped out of your stupor, giving the bard a stink eye as he was wailing his arms around to wave Kolby away from assaulting his face, "I thought you were his travel companion? Why are you here? Shouldn't you be protecting him as well?"

Jaskier continued his bellyaching, "You naughty Hirikka!" he scolded the doe-eyed Hirikka; the creature abruptly planting his tushie on the ground as he growled at the bard as the toubadour mockingly growled back as well, a sharp bark coming from the Hirikka, "---What? With a lute? Kill beasts with my singing?"

"Then, what are you even here for?" you deadpanned. Voice all nonplussed as you apathetically gave the bard your gaze.

Jaskier made a fuss, shifting on his crouched position and turned to completely give you his full attention, giving you back a stinky lour, "How rude of you! I wonder why the djinn has never sent you home!"

You had your cheeks hollowed looking like a chipmunk as you ignored his whingeing, "What if he dies?"

Jaskier was fighting off the feeling of rolling his eyes for your worry. Geralt has dealt with lots of beasts already and his current hunt wouldn't earn him a sweat as he'd already killed a lot of its kind, "He never does. Cease the worry. He can kill beasts even when he sleeps," the bard gave an abrupt pause, gesturing with his finger as he pointed it to you to add more effect as you tried to understand his point, "---Unless, if its you he's sleeping with then we all die from the beast! Cirilla and I know how his senses are disappointing because you're like the silver to his...his...monster?"

"He isn't a monster, Jaskier." you blankly pressed.

"Who even said he was?" he gave you a guileless shrug of his shoulders. Jaskier clicked his tongue, pretty blue eyes fixated on you as it twinkled along the sunny day while you sat in the middle of their living room, "---Besides, he's hunting down a bruxa for the whole week. My dagger won't be useful for the darn beast,"

A Bruxa. You hummed to yourself in understanding; remembering that Geralt has told stories about the monster. It was a type of vampire that takes on the appearance of a dark-haired, young woman whose natural form is that of a large black bat, with sharp fangs and claws. Technically, their form of vampires weren't all glitz and glimmer that they glitter against the sunlight nor are they rich dudes that were bloody pale, attractive and screams like a banshee.

"You have a dagger?" you grilled the bard. He gave you a nod and a laid-back answer, "Well, Geralt has given me one; taught me how to use it too,"

Jaskier hasn't left your side from the moment you woke up. He had been keeping you company like an injured person. It kept you cynical because it even got to the point of following you where ever you may go; which made you skeptical about his whole tailing the midget while Geralt wasn't around.

But, you were thankful. It got you distracted by not noticing that heavy, rattling feeling inside your chest.

"Smile!" you aimed the camera of your cellphone at the appalled trouvère who had his eyeballs popping out of his eye sockets as he was struck dumb, arms crossed in front of him, shielding himself from your digital phone.

Stifling titters wanted to come out of your lips when you've received a scared bard by aiming your camera at him. Jaskier tried peeking to see your guffawing self treating him as a laughing stock. He cocked his head to the side in suspicion as he heard a loud 'click', dropping his arms to the side as he gave a frown because you were giggling back at him.

"What's that?" you've both sat on the dining table; close to each other. He'd scooted closer, trying to see what were you doing as you continued to tap on your phone that still had no time nor date listed. "A phone," you simply said; focused on the phone at hand as Jaskier's curiosity got the best of him, grasping nothing but the idea that your so called phone was out of this world and utterly magnificent when you've showed him the picture you've taken. The kaleidoscope of colors complimenting each picture which fascinated him.

"Is it a weapon?" he asked out of the blue, too absorbed by the phone on your hand as you've felt Jaskier lean in close, his hair touching yours as you were too concentrated with the thing you had in your hand.

Jaskier coincidentally raised his line of vision to look at your face. It was thoroughly unintentional especially when he'd seem to never break his eyes away from you; like he'd seen something worth to be stared at.

He didn't mean to outstare all of a sudden.

"I can throw it at your head, though my phone might be the one breaking rather than your head," you sent a harmless bon mot, being all smiles as you've sent a teasing jest.

Tranquil silence. Totally impossible for the bard to achieve with his chatty mouth. You've given him a look which was entirely a flicker of pure impeccability when you've lately realized that he was staring at you with a twinkle of his pretty ocean blue eyes.

The bard awkwardly cleared his throat, his face suddenly feeling warm when you've taken the time to look into his eyes. "Jaskier," he clicked his tongue and swallowed the ticklish feeling down his throat and avoided those eyes of yours while he'd pulled back from how the proximity was enough to remember Geralt who would tell him to 'fuck off.' for at least a thousand times, "Would you mind if I record your songs?"

He blinked back in curiosity. Record. Jaskier didn't know what it meant, "What? I cannot fathom whatever it is you're saying, rat---"

You've given him a wide grin, beaming before him with a twinkle of your eyes. "Just play your lute for me, will ya'?"

Thus, Jaskier did in a fraction of a second; like a demand from the queen. He did, surprisingly.

A distraction was best at the weird pain that spreads through your chest; along the valley of your breasts because of the realization that Geralt wasn't around. Your nightly weeps needed to have explanations because feeling the scorching pain that radiates off the symbol wasn't normal.

Including the thirst you had for the witcher himself; craving for his touches and existence. Alarming you that what you wanted from him wasn't just profound affection but also his virility as well and even a part of his soul.

The princess of Cintra was bored to tears. She'd pleaded and gave you the puppy eyes; thoroughly begging to wander through the woods and catching fireflies. Hearing something familiar that actually existed just like the same ones in earth amazed you because it was something that you've never get to see ever because of pollution and its habitat being endangered with the year you were in.

Apparently, you've followed her orders. Cirilla didn't want Jaskier to come because it's a bonding that only you and Cirilla should experience. Despite of how pushy he was, worried that Geralt would get mad at him for even letting you wander in the woods all by yourselves. He eventually agreed with a sigh and a bothered expression; telling you both that when the frog croaks in chorus, it was time to go home.

You've wondered, imagining how their frogs actually croak in chorus. Yet, having to experience it was rather much different than imagining as you've seen the whole scene unfold before you. A captivating sigh that had you cooing in the middle of the woods as there were balls of light that blinked within the thone ground like Christmas lights twinkling in the 25th of December.

It was beautiful.

Cirilla seemed to be rather used to it as she explained how it was already the croak of the night, her feet never leaving the ground as she was joyously catching a firefly that glowed with the frogs, swinging her jar till one was captured, "Is everything okay, Y/N? Oh! A firefly!" she excitedly mussed, giving you a glance and noticed that your expressions were twisted in a way that says you weren't comfortable.

You've given your symbol a caress; trying to relieve the utter worry and fury that was spreading through your chest with no reason. Why were you mad? At whom? on what? Also, the uncomfortable feeling came with knowing that Geralt already came home. He was finally home.

Howbeit, you didn't know why your intuitions tell you that he was finally home.

"Yes. It's just that...Geralt's home," you hesitatingly spoke, shaking your head to wash away the sensations as you honestly told the beaming Ashen child, "---and I feel worried even though I should be excited that he's already home,"

Cirilla was unaware of your worried face as she went on with the jests, "Told you he likes you---!" the princess teased, laughing when she'd caught a glimpse of your flustered face; remembering the awful kiss you've done back in the bath room when you were with Geralt, "---Midget."

"Not you too, Cirilla." your face was burning in a trail of blush. You've quietly shrieked as she'd gave a teasing poke on your side; making you jump, "I was just playing with you!"

All was done and everyone was left satisfied. For the princess, that was what she felt. Great elation by having what she wanted all the time. Except for you, who appeared to be in a discordance when you took your trek back home.

The witcher was back earlier than he expected to. Unexpectedly running into some of the royal guards of Kaedwen and creating a skirmish with the knights who disturbed his peace after killing the bruxa he'd been hunting.

They had reasons for their disturbance. Conniving reasons just for him to agree for the favors that he has been asked to do; or wishes from a royal command that Geralt never accedes.

Bargains of giving enough coins that would last him for half a year, the cost of token higher than the previous deal which included women, coins and ale.

He was done with that lifestyle. Well, before you came around; that is.

The witcher was as stubborn as how the townspeople have been saying. They've came to the point of calling him a monster for butchering their fellow men in which Geralt never gave a damn about it because they were destined to die anyway by what evil they've chose to have.

He didn't need people giving him another moniker. He wouldn't let it live down if he'll have one but with just another city he'd tried to save. Some of the children and women they've abducted were homeless, taken in force or had slave contracts; saying they were owned by noblemen paying for their life despite of how they didn't want to agree in the first place.

The Butcher of Kaedwen? Blaviken? What else did he needed to do and have all those infamous monikers created for him?

Until, the men mentioned and threatened to kidnap a small woman who Tybalt had stabbed on the hip that made Geralt jump on his horse because he'd also heard them draw their swords; ought to bring bloodshed when the witcher never complies.

Hence, which is why he was now in the base of their home. All exhausted, droopy, worried and furious because you and Cirilla weren't home when he'd arrived. His temper rising off the roof.

Jaskier has received a sharp cuss from him and an intense rebuke from the witcher who came fully in Bruxa blood and a little bit splashes of human blood which answered the bard's question that a Bruxa hasn't been the only thing he'd encountered on the way home.

You promised Jaskier that you'll be back as soon as possible. However, it took you both an hour after the frogs have croaked in the night and a scary witcher who wore his all black armor and had a peevish expression on his face which explains the heavy feeling dropped on your chest; doubling more when you'd seen the impetuosity radiating off the brawny man.

Geralt heavily marched to meet you midway along the meadow; with Jaskier motioning something behind the witcher with his hands like a cat clawing and slicing his throat with his thumb when you couldn't understand what he wanted to say.

"Geralt---" the princess started, reading his rigid posture and instantly knowing what his current thoughts were. But, she was cut-off by a seething, curt query start of his interrogation.

This wasn't what you expected from him. Your imagination was that you'll try and get a hug out from the witcher himself, thankful that he'd arrived safely and with complete limbs; not this. Not an angered, bloody Geralt who had his nose flaring.

You were rooted on the ground; your mouth closing once he'd started to act volatile after a week of not seeing him.

"Where have you wandered in the forest in this wild hour of the night, Ciri? Y/N?"

Ah. Y/N. Not midget, but Y/N. You were now Y/N to him. Well, that kind of hurt. You didn't know that hearing him say your name in such fiery stung your heart; such sudden frustration riling your patience. The concern and melancholic desire to see him changing into ire.

You've shut your mouth, a forced small tremble of your lips turning into a guileless smile. Tilting your chin and realizing he was pretty much taller and utterly intimidating when mad. Those amber eyes of his that swirl in unfamiliar ferocity for wandering around the woods.

The witcher couldn't help it. After meeting some of the royal guards, his protectiveness took over as he traveled all the way home in haste to check his family if they were safe.

Especially you as he'd heard one of the cavaliers threaten to abduct you soon.

The naive pretense you've wanted to use through his anger wavered when you've heard your voice faintly quiver, "She's--She's with me, she's safe, Geralt. We were just catching fireflies or whatever this is called in your world---"

Albeit, it seemed like the witcher had a closed mind and didn't want to hear your explanations as he cut you off with a seething truth; his amber eyes blazing as his jaw was clenched so tight, "You think you can protect her?"

You swallowed the hurt for the truth that was sent out in the open, catching you off-guard by the harsh statement that was bound to be told because you were saved twice; like a princess who needed rescuing all the darn time.

Thus, it added more stones to the weight dragging your heart to the ground.

"I--I--" a pathetic stutter has been uttered before the angered witcher seemed to have lost his temper and lashed out on you. He was chirlish and brusque as he does so; like how everyone pointed him out to be and this was the first time you've seen the witcher acting the way he is now, "You can't because you also need saving," pause. "---Your rash behavior can get the both of you dying!"

The latter shook his head in thwart, his gaze burning you in a way that made you want to turn into dust.

"It was fucking dangerous out there!"

The more he gnarled felt like he was blaming you on whatever caused his life to turn the way it is; even the desire for Cirilla to wander in the woods to catch fireflies was all on you to be brought on your shoulders. You huffed out a shaky breath, disbelieving the way he was throwing his surly attitude towards you made you puff your cheeks in utter vexation; wanting nothing but to scream back at the witcher.

Jaskier has managed to saunter towards where Cirilla is, her eyes completely panic-stricken by Geralt's rage; watching between the both of you and seeming to want to step in between but it seems like there were also other issues as well that made you both angry at each other. Matters that should be truly said and not be kept on the inside.

"Ciri, come with me." the bard hushed, catching the princess by the arm and dragging her away till he brought her to the door way, around a hundred meters away from the pair as the both of you tried to withstand each other's glares.

She struggled against his hold, "But, Jaskier! It was my fault! It's not Y/N's fault. Why is she being scolded when I should be the one who must be? Geralt shouldn't be mad at her! What if he---"

"He won't hurt her physically, Princess. He never does. When did he ever hurt us no matter how irking we are? You know Geralt more than anyone in this world,"

Kolby was howling inside their home, his instincts knowing that there was something happening which added more noise to the argument you had with the butcher of Blaviken; shaking the night with your kept frustrations against each other.

"---He just knows how to ruin everything with his teetering, strong feelings. He isn't the best at expressing it but you know the lout knows how to care," he went on, trying to dispel her fears for the both of you, thinking that you would eventually hurt each other with heart-breaking words, "---He'll deal with it. Come on now,"

Jaskier ushered the princess to come inside. She was hesitant at first, giving you both glances before he pulled her in; giving you both the space that is needed. The bard knew that Geralt won't start talking in a sensible manner when they're around. He wouldn't try and open his heart with people hearing what he wanted to truly say.

Your eyes started to cloud, the sensitivity of yourself beginning to take over. One fact about you was that you didn't like people yelling like you were an idiot; as well as people who were mad at you for something you've done which adds more regret to the grief, "I know I'm useless. You didn't need to yell it out loud." you deadpanned, biting the insides of your lips; trying hard not to start sobbing because you've already felt the familiar tremble.

"---You know I would spare my life just for hers because she's a princess, Geralt." your voice got the best of you, quaking in a way that got the witcher knowing that you were in the midst of crying; but somehow reluctant to break down because of his doing, "---Is this how badly you want to kick me out of your house?"

You've blinked and try to ignore the warmth pooling around your eyes, never giving him the opportunity to see right through you before you've snapped your eyes back up to the witcher who had a grimace as he stared you down. The twinkle of your eyes that was an epitome of stars in the night was now loosing its gleam and it was because of him. He'd done something wrong again; like how he was used to. Mistakes that seem to go along with his name.

Geralt had his nose scrunched; having another set of his internal battles within himself as he watched you pour out your anger at him like he'd done to you. Sharing each other's frustration since the days prior that you weren't there for each other.

Your weeping at night. He'd knew. The witcher felt what you were feeling every damn night even though he wasn't with you and he didn't know why.

"I've had Ciri close to me! You know I wouldn't let her get hurt by anyone especially from the people of Nilfgaard!" Your raving was ceaseless; impulsively bringing out pasts you heard from Cirilla and Jaskier as they've tried to tell you important things that should be avoided or was evident of danger. They were the only ones who were openly alarming you about them and never the witcher.

"How did you know about that?" Geralt's scowl grew tighter, his question sounding like a vibrating snarl that warned you he was utterly vexed.

"Because your surprise child and Jaskier had the respect to tell me what's happening in this world you're in!"

You've felt yourself choking from the hysteria raging in your veins, angrily snapping at the witcher who also appeared to be in total dismay as his scowl turned into a frown; his gaze solely on you alone, never leaving your sight. Fists were tightened on either side of you, wanting to throw things out of madness for how rude he was when you remembered how he'd wanted to kiss you back at that certain day.

He was confusing you by how he was acting tonight which also left you enraged for his complicated hot and cold demeanor.

"I don't even know where I am! What this dimension is called! Nor do I know people! Who's bad or who's good! I don't know your map or any of your kingdom!"

"You don't need to know any of that!" because the more you knew about the continent, the more it can bring darkness to you. He'd thought that keeping some things within the family was better because he didn't want you to get involved by whatever problems they may bring.

The witcher wanted you to himself. He wants to protect you from any cruelty that the continent may offer because you were his little secret.

You were his midget. His.

You've roughly bit your lips, fighting the urge for the first tear to fall; howbeit, it was a traitor as you rolled your eyes and avoided his amber peepers searching through the emotions that you oh-so wanted to convey. But, all that was evident was disappointment, anger, sadness and grief because of expecting something that wasn't supposed to be expected from a monster-slayer.

Perhaps, hoping to see through what his good heart could offer was too delusional for you.

"---Don't worry, witcher. The princess comes first before I do. I know that and it should be as well. Thanks for making me come to my senses that I'm useless and a burden for you! I'll leave tomorrow morning so your baggage of having someone needed protecting would lessen on your shoulders," you kept a straight face, blankly looking away as inscrutable as possible; not giving him the benefit of seeing you mourning for the stab of your heart.

Mayhaps, wishing for the fondness to be reciprocated by a witcher was too much of a dream for you. Definitely too high to achieve nor hoped for.

Geralt deeply growled, his forehead creased like he was hurting. You've never seen the pain that spread through his face, letting the emotion he's been keeping to himself burst like he was showing vulnerability.

He didn't like it when you've deadpanned and called him a witcher. It sounded too cold and distant, like he was made to only be seen as a witcher to you, a stranger, a mutated human who slaughters beasts and nothing else.

"Don't call me that!" he snarled, invading the space you've had and your forehead was now in line with his massive chest. You peered up at him with the same ire pooling through your peepers, your gaze hostile as you spoke with thick sarcasm.

"Aren't you a witcher? What do you want me to call you, then? Your job description changed now?"

Geralt roughly breathed out of his nose, his broad shoulders going up and down as he was controlling those emotions that he had which always seemed to be stronger and uncontrollable. He narrowed his blazing amber eyes, genuinely staring into you as he kept his hands to himself; on either side of him. Wanting nothing but to grab onto your face and make you believe that he was earnest about not wanting to be called that when it came to you.

"Don't...Don't make it sound like I'm just a trifling matter to you,"

You scoffed out of the blue for his wishes that he suddenly seem to want, "But, aren't I also just a trifling matter to you, witcher? Or do you want to be called in full name? Geralt of Rivia? Is that your full name? Oh! Maybe, the butcher of Blaviken, then?"

The sound of you calling him witcher felt so distant because he knew that, for you; he was Geralt and not a witcher who people see him as a mutant who kills beasts. To you, he was more than human and less than a witcher. In your mind, he was Geralt. Only Geralt and nothing else because he was a man whom you see that had a good heart and hearing you call him with his monikers was shattering his stronghold.

"No!" he suddenly groaned out of the blue. You gave him the death stare, stepping a foot away from the man himself as his presence was too bewitching in the rage of fire that you both cast upon each other tonight, "What do you mean no?!"

"No," the witcher hoarsely repeated, snapping his head to the side as he gravelly spat out profanities out of those mouth that you've been dying to kiss.

"---Fuck! Don't."

You shook your head in utter disappointment. Your face in a baffling twist, "Are you a broken record or something? no? don't, what?"

He had his share of breaths; seeming to be straightening his thoughts before lowly muttering out his next words, his jaw still clenched as he turned his head to see those eyes waving the white flag like he was submitting and wanted all the anger to just vanish.

"Don't spare your life for anyone, midget." it was straight to the point, giving you what he wanted you to hear.

Yet, because of his unstable attitude; you've chose to weigh down the options as to what his words meant. Choosing the platonic sense of a thought before you even smash your heart into pieces by praying that he meant something more.

"But, she's a princess---"

"---Because you are also important,"

You could see the anger dissipating from his glowing eyes; shifting into such ire that also had a hint of dithering and abrupt acquiescence. Your heart skipped a beat when his words echoed inside your heated head.

'Because you are also important,' Howbeit, your assertion for the truth had you turning his words into the chaste part of options.

"Cirilla is more important than me, Geralt. She's your child of surprise. You know I would risk my life for her. No one would really care for my death anyway. I'm probably already dead for my family back in earth," you scorned, huffing out a breath that hitched when he started giving you the doubts again.

The witcher appeared to be more frustrated as time goes by, your denial making it all too difficult for him to explain, "I.....care!" he prolonged the simplicity in his words, his teeth showing as he gritted and deeply snarled, "I do care, midget. I care about you!"

"Ah." you impassively muttered, eyes vacant as there was a void hidden behind those peepers of yours, "---you mean that because I'm your responsibility. Noted." and a simple shrug of your shoulders was enough to draw a stressed-out growl from the man who kept your heart on the line, always.

"Fuck--no! Not that!"

A simple shake of your head and a chance to leave his presence was all it could take for Geralt to grab onto your wrists, surprising you to say the least. His hold on you was tight, never letting go as you tried and uselessly battled with his strength.

You skeptically sent him a sharp look as he appeared to be groaning out deep within those sturdy chest of his that was still clothed in armor, "Let go, Geralt. I swear to God, if you don't let go and use magic or your Harry Potter slash witcher styled---Wingardium Levi-O-sa on me---!"

"You know I will never do that!" he fumed, his expressions telling you that he was offended by even thinking he would hurt you in any way, disregarding your modern references that he simply couldn't understand. Therefore, Geralt carried on with his kept feelings and raved.

"You...You are important to me! I care because you're you..."

You've exhaled a huff of frustration, never believing his words that was always been said whenever he was caught up in a moment.

"You're speaking in riddles that I couldn't comprehend, my lord." a mock of his accent made you done for. The deathless struggle you've tried to escape in his hold; both hands prying him away but he was utterly stronger than you imagined him to be.

You were utmost naive that it was making him want to just kiss you hard for you to understand his feelings.

The witcher breathed fire. Features thoroughly livid for your naivity and denial, "You're too fucking blind and too naive!" he barked, completely infuriated for your nonsense.

You loudly whined as you tried wrenching his hand away. It was better to escape his presence because you could sense that the more you stayed, the more you would forgive this man in a heartbeat with his words that seem to confuse you.

It took one more struggle and a stumble of your own foot for how forcibly you were trying to get away his hold that Geralt swiftly hung that arm he holds; slipping it around his broad shoulders, catching you completely off-guard as he leaned down entirely to your height; your eyes bulging out of your eye sockets for his surprising gesture.

"Witcher---!!!"

However, those flamed words were forgotten as you've felt those pillowy, succulent lips of his fall onto yours in a feathery touch that got your insides growing wild.

Your eyes were all open, soul flying out of its chambers when you've felt his warm lips falling in between yours. A fluttering connection of both bodies that got your body turning rigid before he'd tried to snap you out of your shock and softly kissed tips of your lower lip, his fingers gently grabbing onto the side of your face; thumb falling into the tip of your chin to chide you into kissing him back.

He hoped he wasn't just imagining things; thoroughly thinking that what he felt about you can somehow also be reciprocated and that it wasn't just him.

You've eventually given a satisfied sigh and fluttered your eyes closed, entirely giving into what your heart desires; molding your vermillion to his with a soft pucker of your lips and your other hand falling onto the side of his chiseled face that got a low grumble of his chest out of him from the tender touch of your fingers he'd anticipated to feel.

You were finally kissing Geralt and your heart seemed to be flying out of its cage.

The kiss was how you imagined it to be. Soft and candied like a precised choreography dance that was satisfying for both of your beings; yet aching for more. Your breath hitched when you've felt the tip of his luscious tongue caress your lips in a way that got the warmth pooling in your stomach turn wild.

You've snapped your eyes open and broke the kiss before it escalated further; hardly pulling away with a faint smooch that got you wanting another.

It was definitely difficult to believe. Before the witcher could even flutter his eyes open, you've timidly puckered; your face boiling in such a high temperature as you reach for his lips, planting another chaste kiss that got Geralt in a small beam that you were blinded with; finding your actions adorable as if you were timid of kissing him.

So, it was real. You've kissed him again and he let you. The feelings were actually true.

He was met with those ingenuous flicker inside your eyes as you stared back at him, a sheepish smile and a coy twinkle of your eyes got him sighing; breathing in your delectable scent and never believing you actually felt the same way, "I am...done leaving people," Geralt breathed through his nose, whispering sweet and soft nothings that got your heart twerking inside your chest.

The latter tenderly leaned his forehead against yours; eyelids shut closed as he deeply murmured. The anger simmering out of the way once he'd gotten to kiss those lips that he wanted to have a taste since the day he'd felt something for you, "---Nor am I done being left by people who are important to me,"

You felt his gentle fingers graze your chin, the dimples of his nose tickling yours; urging for just another harmless kiss that tells you it all isn't a dream you've forged to create.

"Forgive me," he gravelly whispered, hearing your thoughts as to how you wanted to be kissed; though, it was just Geralt and his self that couldn't get enough of you.

The witcher planted another uncluttered kiss to the tips of your vermillion, catching your breath away as you blinked repeatedly to get a hold of yourself when he'd pulled away with a mischievous grin, "I...didn't mean to yell,"

You've bit your lips; trying to fight yourself from squealing hard at what just happened, feeling your toes tickling your bashful heart. You took a glimpse of those amber eyes that held a roguish gaze to it, "You're...You're mean!" was all you managed to say, eyes downcast and your nose scrunched from being utterly cringe; feeling his soft lips still lingering.

Oh dear, you weren't going to sleep without squealing for the next couple of hours.

"I know," his dashing face was filled of remorse. You've given him a blink of surprise, astounded by his sheer admission towards being a big meanie for yelling at you.

A soft narrow of your eyes was the only thing he'd receive and he did the same way, his amber eyes bright and free from pique as he cocked his head to the side, a dubious impression from how you were still giving him that hostile but shy gaze of yours.

"You're still mad," the ivory-haired witcher straightened his back as he stated as a matter of fact with that rough baritone timbre of his voice. You ungracefully cleared your throat for the second time; his gaze heavy on you and it was making your heart turn wild.

"And the night is dark, Geralt." was enough for Geralt of Rivia to trail behind you like a guilty puppy as you hurriedly jogged back to their house; your nose scrunched to the extent as you delicately held onto your lips in which the witcher has kissed; your face burning from the blush that wanted you squealing out loud.

"---Utterly mad." he scoffed to himself as he groaned in regret, rolling his eyes from how you were brushing him aside.

Geralt tailed behind with a frown on his face, "Forgive me, midget." he repeated in a stern but clearer tone, utterly bothered by how you were disregarding him after all he confessed.

The door to their house were sprightly shut closed when Jaskier and Cirilla left the hatch ajar. It was Jaskier's idea to eavesdrop over the both of you and much to say, he'd already awaited for this moment to happen because of the tension that seemed palpable by everyone who surrounded you both.

"That's character development right out there, Cirilla." the bard peeked out of the small opening, watching how Geralt has leaned down to give you the kiss that was bound to happen.

Cirilla moved away from the doorway, an incredulous haze of her eyes as she had her hands on her hips, "I thought Geralt didn't know romance, Bard?"

Jaskier didn't back down from her sassy gestures and also did the same as he began to reason out, standing away from the door way when he'd heard Geralt asking you for forgiveness. The princess of Cintra has a smug look on her face, teasing the bard, "Some people improve when it's been a long time since his heartbreak---Stop judging me like that!"

He'd seen you walk back to the house, a fathomless cringe carving your features which looked like you were constipated as the witcher jogged up from behind, calling you out in the middle of the night. Jaskier was quick to shut the door closed for the second time, hauling an arm around Cirilla as he pulled her wrists till she was crouching with the bard and Kolby, acting like they were playing Knucklebones and not snooping over you and Geralt, "---Also, act like you didn't see them kiss!"

Y’ALL ARE PROLLY WAITING FOR CHAPTER 14 AND 15 NOW. 😂😂 (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, bb. Please do check your settings. 🥰 Thank you!)

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthorr @carrieannewaywardson

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years ago

Text

Yellow Bells

Pairing: Kim Yugyeom x reader

Genre: florist au / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: this is for the lovely @mrkimyugyeom for her birthday today. Thanks to the anon the other day who mentioned the florist! concept, I realised it fits this present for my dear friend perfectly. Thank you for everything you have done for me over the last year, Nora! I’m so grateful for our friendship Xxx

Word count: 2136

“Are you sure you can manage on your own, Yugyeom?”

He nodded, ushering his parents eagerly to the exit of the store. “Mum, I’ve grown up in this shop. I’m pretty sure I know every type of flower in here from your little songs you sing as you care for them. Go, I can handle it for a week.”

“He’s right, darling. The florist will be here when we return from our vacation,” Yugyeom’s father assured, tugging his wife outside. She turned to look forlornly at Yugyeom.

Or, probably the row of baby azaleas behind him.

“Make sure you water-”

“I will and I’ll feed those in the tropical part and check the temperature for the lilies and honestly Mum, I can handle this.”

She reluctantly nodded, stretching to place a kiss on his cheek as she hugged him. He waved his parents off as they drove away for their first vacation alone since he was born over twenty years ago. And as soon as they were out of sight, he stepped back into the house of flora and slumped visibly.

Sure, he wanted his parents to have a good time. And he wasn’t exactly lying; he had spent more time within this florist growing up than in the apartment above it.

But Yugyeom wasn’t born possessing a green thumb like his parents. He was even somewhat affected by pollen and since his mother was deeply attached to her flower children, he had only minded the store a handful of times.

“I can do this,” he reaffirmed, nodding his head and slipping his hands deep within his pockets, eying the succulents’ table carefully. “We’ll do this together, right guys?”

He then grimaced, wondering how his mother could speak so fondly to everything in here without any problem. So, maybe he wouldn’t be singing the bushes down the back to sleep as he locked up later on.

But he’d at least be able to keep the store running for the next five days.

Hopefully.

The first day started well. Yugyeom followed the pages of instructions his mother left behind for him to follow, the step by step guide foolproof. He managed to serve a couple of customers and take an order for next week for an event when his mother would be back to make new intricate arrangements.

But that was where he was failing the most. Staring down at the stack of cut-offs lying on the decorative paper he had chosen, Yugyeom groaned out loud. There was no charm to the arrangement he had made. They all clashed and he knew even he wouldn’t buy this to give to anyone.

“You need a different colour palette to balance out all this pink,” you called and he glanced up, his breath getting caught in his throat.

You smiled politely and pointed to the flowers. “You have pink roses, pink tulips and pink carnations. Monochrome is nice but I think if you changed the carnations for a white, it would make the arrangement more interesting.”

“I can do white,” he slowly replied, soon grinning at you. “Thanks!”

“Anytime. I have an order to pick up under the name Y/N,” you stated and Yugyeom nodded, turning to the computer to look up the details, keeping you in his peripheral as he did so.

You glanced around mindlessly. “Mrs Kim isn’t around?”

“Nope, she’s on vacation this week.”

“Oh so you’re Yugyeom then,” you commented and he stopped looking up your order details, blinking rapidly at the fact that you knew his name. You chuckled. “Your Mum talks about you a lot.”

“Really? Are you sure you didn’t hear her say Yellow bells instead?”

You grinned. “I sense some jealousy here. The plants will be offended.”

“You really do know my mother,” he retorted with a breathy chuckle, hiking his thumb in the direction of the storeroom. “I’ll just get your order.”

He returned with a bag of fertiliser and some seeds, sliding them up onto the top of the free counter space. After ringing up your order and accepting your card, Yugyeom then held onto it a little longer than he should. You eyed his lack of action curiously.

“So white?”

You nodded. “White. Don’t stress too much, someone will buy them.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one jealous of flowers,” he teased when he handed back your card.

“Who knows, if it’s still here tomorrow, I might buy it.”

“You’ll be back tomorrow?”

Shrugging, you reached for your purchases. “Perhaps.”

Yugyeom waited for your return the following day. He had managed to empty out the clearance table to a kind elderly couple, stacked the new batch of supplies that arrived just before lunch and even got a start on another mediocre bouquet of flowers when the jingle of the bell over the door made him look up and find you walking inside. He dropped the roll of ribbon he had been fumbling with and then yelped when it landed on his foot.

You laughed. “And a hello to you as well, Yellow bells.”

“I’m going to regret saying that to you yesterday, aren’t I?” he grumbled, bending down to retrieve the ribbon. When he stood back up, you were holding his first arrangement. Yugyeom sighed. “You don’t have to.”

“Why not? I want to be the first person to have one of Yellow-”

“I swear, Y/N if you keep it up!” he cut in with a hearty laugh, your own soon joining his. When the moment was over, Yugyeom then waved you off. “You can have it.”

“Well, I plan on that.”

“No, I mean, for free.”

You grew curious. “Don’t businesses require financial backing?”

“They also require creativity and some sense of pride in their work. That sad bunch has neither. I can’t expect you to buy it.”

“I will. And I will continue to keep buying them until you have just that!”

“What did you say?”

“Ring it up for me, Yellow bells.”

By the fourth day of your regular appearances to the florist, Yugyeom was certain of two things. One, he really liked you. There was just something about you that captivated him and he wanted to talk to you endlessly. Even if it was all about the species of one plant family, he was certain he would listen to every word you said.

Secondly, he knew his mother was behind all this.

“She told you to come and check on her babies, didn’t she?” he asked pointedly when you appeared, looking rather inconspicuously at the indoor houseplants section.

“Who?”

“My mother,” he said and you smiled. “I knew she didn’t trust me!”

“She does actually, like I said, all she talks about is you, Yellow bells.”

He clamped his eyes closed momentarily to clear out the nickname that he was growing rather attached to and then rounded the counter, coming over to your side. “Then why are you turning up every day?”

“Have you made another arrangement yet?” you wondered and Yugyeom rubbed the back of his neck, nodding shyly. “Where is it?”

“It uh, it sold.”

You almost looked upset. “You’re kidding me! Then you’ve done it!”

“I think the old lady felt sorry for me. Something about going home to pretty it up in one of her fine vases.”

“Well, your colour choices are improving so you never know.”

“What’s the deal about you anyway? You always talk about colour.”

You grinned. “I study colour theory at the local university.”

“Huh.” Yugyeom moved over to look at a baby fern, inspecting its leaves. “You’re majoring in art?”

“Business management. I just take it as an extra paper.”

“What’s the end goal for you then?”

“Really?” you asked, biting at your bottom lip as you grinned. “Is Yellow bells interested in where I end up?”

“I’d laugh if it was a florist.” Your eyes sparkled as your lips twitched and Yugyeom gaped at you. “A florist?!”

“I’ve been helping your mother make changes to the business marketing part of the shop for three months now. So it would be this florist.”

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“You moved out, remember.”

“You know too much,” he breathed and you nudged him.

“Not everything.”

“Enough,” he lamented and moved back to the counter in a slump. “You’ll come and work for the family and then you’ll not see me for anything more than Yellow bells then.”

“Were you hoping I’d see you for more than that?” you questioned, unable to hide your intrigue.

“I’m glad the old lady bought the bouquet now.”

“You’ll just have to make me another one,” you concluded, heading towards the door. You stepped out, only to stick your head back around the corner. “Make sure it doesn’t sell before I get here again tomorrow.”

Yugyeom was discouraged. With the knowledge that you were being primed to join the family business, he couldn’t see how this would separate him enough from the son of your future employer. He barely said a word to any of the plants as he locked up that night and grunted in greeting the following morning. He only had to get through today. Tomorrow, his parents would be back and he would be able to return to his apartment downtown and forget all about the way you smiled whenever you called him your preferred nickname.

The day felt like it was dragging. He completed all the morning chores, ensuring the plants that needed watering or fed an enrichment mixture had been checked off his list before he approached the arrangement station. Yugyeom had gathered an assorted bunch of flowers earlier in the morning. There was nothing special to them, just cut-offs that didn’t seem to fit in with others. Together, however, they seemed aesthetically pleasing. Choosing to wrap them in simple brown paper to enhance their beauty, he placed the bouquet into the front stand, going back to working on some multi-coloured roses.

The doorbell jingled and he didn’t even look up. He knew it was you.

“Afternoon flower babies,” you called out, sounding just like his mother. He huffed petulantly, trimming off the excess stem of the rose he was readying for the arrangement. You were soon in front of him. But instead of greeting him with his nickname, you didn’t say anything.

Yugyeom looked up to see what was wrong, his eyes narrowing when he found you staring at something in awe. “What’s wrong with you?”

“You made this?”

“Oh them? Yeah, I felt sorry for them since they didn’t match with their other batches so I put them all together. It’s a bit wild, huh?”

“I love it,” you confessed shakily, blinking a few times. You then glanced up at him and he could see how moved you were. “It’s beautiful, Yugyeom.”

He was overwhelmed. He hadn’t expected this reaction to the bouquet, or within himself. Your words bounced around his insides, shooting off spikes of warmth. He was certain he was madly blushing and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Oh uh, well.”

“I can’t buy this,” you murmured, still clutching the bouquet despite your statement. Your eyes searched his and Yugyeom eventually grinned bashfully.

“Good, I can finally gift you some flowers, Y/N.”

“One of many bunches, I hope.”

“You forget, today’s my last day here.”

You faltered. “You don’t plan to visit?”

“Well, yeah I come and see my parents most weekends.”

“Then you can make me some flowers then.”

“You won’t be here every day, will you?” he wondered, trying not to stare at you too much. He felt there was more to what you were expressing and his palms started to sweat as he thought over what next to say. “You… you wouldn’t come here looking for me, would you?”

“I have every day this week, haven’t I?”

Yugyeom frowned. “That’s because of my mother’s-”

“Actually, she just asked me to come in on Wednesday. I was curious and couldn’t wait until then.”

“Curious about what?”

“You,” you confessed, burying your face into the flowers you held to hide your expression. You then gazed up at him once more at ease. “You’re kind of handsome, Yellow bells.”

He sighed heavily. “It was going so well.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t like it,” you mused and Yugyeom laughed.

“I’ll need to come up with a nickname for you then too,” he announced and you tilted your head to the side.

“You seemed so sure we wouldn’t be crossing paths after today.”

He grinned. “Didn’t you say I needed to make more flower arrangements?”

“I did.”

“Well, I’ve got some new ideas. I need to try them out when I come by. Since you’ll be here, after all.”

You seemed to bloom then, brightening up entirely. “Well Yellow bells, I can’t wait to see what you come up with next.”

_________________

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coffeeismyblo0d · 3 years ago

Text

By The Society's Needs

TW // Minor Misgendering

Beep! Beep! Beep!

The sound rang through Aspen's already tired ears, reminding them of what was to be expected, and what was not to be expected. They turned, looking at their annoyingly loud phone which displayed the time: 7:05.

Aspen slammed their hand down on the phone, sighing softly as it shut off the alarm, which felt glorious to them this early the morning. They heard the loud yelling of their neighbors, who were just on the other side of the thin walls. They also heard a rather loud thumping noise, of which they desperately hoped was a exercise machine upstairs, despite knowing the truth behind it.

Aspen launched themselves up, stretching their arms and back out. This had been part of their routine for a while, the only exceptions coming during sick days, which were few in numbers, fortunately. Aspen looked around their room for a moment, trying to find what they were looking for amongst the littered sketches of outfits to be.

"Ah yes, there you are." They held their rediscovered binder up in triumph, despite being alone at the moment. Their binder was special to them of course. After all, it sealed a lot of insecurities about their body away with what little changes it made.

Aspen hopped on one foot as they tried pull both the binder and a sock on at the same time. Of course, this was a major struggle for them, as the binder was a binder, and a sock is on your foot. Both were on opposite points of the body.

Aspen turned toward the full length mirror in their room, despite one sock halfway off of their foot. They hummed, tilting their head at themselves.

"What should we go for today bud..?" They looked at their succulent. "Of course, you're throwing a fit. I'm sorry but too much water might kill you." They giggled softly, clipping the binder back enough so it fully reduced everything. "There. I think that will look great."

"And we'll go...." Aspen looked at the closet full of outfits, outfits that fit many different moods and aesthetics. They grabbed an outfit that included items sewn by them themselves, such as overalls, an 'ugly' sweater, and others that went along with them. Aspen chose a pair of short boots as an addition to the outfit, smiling. "I think I'm going to look great today. "

They turned towards the clock on their bedside table, which had been handpainted by a local artist. The clock read 7:15. Aspen smiled. "Right on track, I am."

Once done getting dressed, Aspen grabbed their bag and walked out the door, rubbing their eyes. How they were still tired, was a question that would likely be left unanswered.

"Let's hope you start..." Aspen muttered, turning their key in the car. They let out a sigh of relief as it turned on without stalling as they attempted to turn music on. "Thank you..."

They started their drive to work, groaning as their music refused to load. "At least the car started, that's all I could ask for.." They muttered, eyeing their bag of fabric and other assorted sewing items. A bag that hadn't been touched in a long time.

"Someday buddy, someday." Aspen patted the bag, waiting in traffic. Their eyes drifted over for just a moment, seeing the scammer like looking teen on the sidewalk. Every place had scams, even if you lived somewhere remote. And the bustling city was no exception to this rule, especially downtown.

As soon as they were able, Aspen continued driving. They loved yet hated the activity. They loved it because it gave them inspiration,and they hated it because it was terrifying.

Another reason to hate driving was where it took Aspen. The job yet to enlighten them was kept only because of Aspen's license. A license that Aspen wishes would have been nonexistent, and would allow them to live a life. A life where their own business was possible.

The job may have felt constricting, but Aspen didn't want to get into a deeper hole than the one they were already in financially. The job supported them. There was no way-if they were sane- that they would quit.

"Astroplanes." Aspen muttered as they pulled up to the big building. "The bane of my existence."

The building itself wasn't decked out in anything too special. The logo was in neon lights, but that was otherwise it for the dread filled building. Remove the logo, and it would likely be unrecognizable next to it's store counterpart.

The inside of each building was different in it's own way, aside from the store being the store, and the building being where everything was designed. The employees at the store seemed much more interactive and alive, even if on their last strain of life. Where as in here, they seemed dead, with few of the employees cheerful.

"Morning." Aspen's coworker waved, sipping her coffee as she walked past them. "The big lady is here today." She sighed. "Just warnin' ya kid."

"Well that's great. " Aspen smiled, sounding cheerful to their fellow worker. Inside, they were screaming in rage, because corporate officials were always unpleasant.

Aspen sat down at their workspace, pulling out the sketchbook they saved for work. It was filled with ideas they wanted to fulfill, but couldn't, and ones they didn't quite enjoy, but knew were required to produce into a true product.

In Aspen's eyes, fashion was fluid, and had no limits. There was no feminine or masculine in what they saw, because they wanted their demographic to wear what they saw as validating. There was no limit to how 'crazy' a look could be in Aspen's head. Everyone should have their size that fits and look great, was something along the lines of Aspen's thinking.

Astroplanes differed very much from one of their many overworked employees, as one expensive company does. They marketed everything towards women, and made everything feminine. There was nothing super crazy,and looks lacked simple, yet amplifying touches, such as a single patch. The sizes for what was sold the most didn't expand far, and many things marketed as plus size were not considered as fashion as the mainstream products.

Aspen had nothing against the clothes themselves, because an outfit looks great to someone no matter what the outfit is made of. It was the way that Astroplanes went about their products, and how employees and customers alike were treated that didn't sit right with Aspen.

They couldn't help but wonder what went through someone's head to not acknowledge the truth about companies like Astroplanes. Then again, they knew it'd be pointless to point out flaws, as they'd just get squished like the tiniest ant outside of it's hill.

Aspen sighed as they stared at the blank page, tapping the eraser of their pencil on the woodtop desk. They started sketching, looking at the figure they had drawn. They continued to sketch, drawing whatever they pleased, ignoring the tall slim woman in the background.

The result was spectacular, in short. It displayed a colorful suit, of which did not particularly define the model's identity.

"What is this?"

"I-" Aspen turned, met with the bright red face of the company's owner, who was clearly angry. "It's my own design ma'am. "

"We can not have this." The woman scoffed. "This is far beyond the goals of my company!"

"I apologi-"

"You absolute digust of a woman!" She spat, her eyes narrowed. "I never want something like that ever again, especially from you."

Aspen resisted the urge to reach up and punch the company's owner. They were beyond angry at getting yelled at for a design, and offended by the incorrect use of pronouns, when they had a very visible pin on their jacket reading 'THEY/THEM'.

"Yes ma'am. " Aspen responded, trying to sound as kind as possible after the last moment.

They watched the woman walk away. They let out a sigh of relief and rolled their eyes. They flipped to a different page in their sketchbook, starting on a completely different design from the supposedly troublesome one.

The rest of the day would go along fairly smooth for Aspen, with nothing other than the usual annoyances bothering them, sucha as a lazy coworker complaining that no one would get fabric for them.

Aspen sat alone while on their lunch break, listening to music as usually did. Nothing else had changed from doing it's normal way of doing things. Unless you counted Aspen constantly thinking about the event that had happened earlier, at the beginning of the day, then that counts.

"Still sucks here." Aspen muttered, looking at the building as they left, long after their last free breath of air while on lunch. "Things never change, do they?"

They turned on a random Spotify playlist once they got in their car, tossing their work bag into the passenger seat of the car. They sighed, turning the key to their car a few times to get it to start.

"At least I have my car, right?" Aspen muttered to themselves, backing out of the parking spot before having to halt to a stop, with their coworker Tammy trying to get out of the parking lot. They heard indistinct yelling, a car horn, and then screeching tires.

'They never fail to amaze me.' Aspen thought, their green eyes staring at the road. 'I wonder what goes on in the small mind they possess. '

They left the parking lot, just letting their thoughts whizz by as they pleased, in fear they would focus on the bad of the day. The music helped, serving as a good distraction that didn't distract Aspen from driving.

Thankfully, the drive home was not too bad for Aspen after all. They didn't die.

They fixed themselves a quick dinner once they had changed into more comfortable clothes after getting home. The dinner in question as really just a hot pocket, but Aspen could care less.

They checked their plants and made sure they were alright, watering the ones whose soil was dry. They stretched their torso out, sighing as their shoulders became less tense and relaxed.

They then watched a bit of whatever they felt like watching. Aspen knew they didn't have particularly good taste, but could care less at that moment.

Aspen went to bed once they had finished watching their show, curling up in a ball on their side underneath the warm blanket. They managed to fall asleep after twenty minutes of empty thought, knowing the next day would be the same.

#story #nonbinary #original work

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thechildoflightning · 5 years ago

Text

Forecast

Title: Forecast

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Remile

Word Count: 3217

~~~

Summary:

An average fall morning with Remile, ft. depression fog, broke college students buying expensive coffee, teeny tiny pumpkins, emotional distress, and succulents (not in that order).

For the lovely @illogicallyinclined’s hockey au.

Warnings: Depression, Seasonal Affective Disorder

[ao3 link]

~~~

Forecast

Remy had mixed feelings about October and the approaching holidays and seasons.

On one hand- October meant Halloween which meant seasonal drinks like Pumpkin Spice. It also meant that decorations went up and he and Emile would get a bunch of those ittie bittie pumpkins to put literally everywhere in their apartment. Emile would light his candles and the apartment would smell like falling leaves, and apples, and pumpkin pie. He loved it.

On the other hand- October brought the beginnings of Remy’s seasonal affective disorder- which he had just nicknamed “The Big Sad.” Seasonal depression adding onto his regular depression was just another weight on his back, until it became an almost struggle to just be at a decent mood level. He hated it

This year had hit him hard.

He wasn’t even sure why.

So here he was, lying on the bed he shared with Emile, blinking up at the ceiling and trying to convince himself to just… get up.

He could. He knew he could.

It was always the mornings too. The mornings were a bit harder than everything else because now he had the whole day looming ahead of him and it just seemed so long and forbidding.

Over the years, Remy had counteracted this with a routine. If mornings were always going to be hard for him, might as well give him something to get up for, right? So he had collected succulents over the past few years, slowly decorating the apartment. He’d check them all every morning, fingers gliding over their leaves carefully to take note of growth, decay, light damage, shade damage, soil dryness, and much more.

Had he really expected to learn this much about succulents? No. But he had. And he loved it.

Most importantly, it gave him a reason to get up.

He would then make himself breakfast, and Emile some too if he was around, before heading to classes, work, practice, or whatever he had that day.

The routine kept him moving, kept him active, kept him from not sitting in bed all day long.

These days, it generally wasn’t even a struggle. But he woke up on the third day of October with a weight in his bones and the faint smell of ginger and cinnamon in the air.

His alarm had gone off twice now. The second one was his safety. His “okay, you’re having a rough day, here’s a few extra minutes, but then you need to get up alarm.”

He hadn’t gotten up.

Nope. Instead, he was blinking lazily up at the ceiling, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes and a heavy weight settled across his chest. Fuck depression. Fuck SAD.

This was, of course, when the door opened.

“Remy!” his roommate? friend? boyfriend? partner’s voice cheered as he entered the apartment, “Guess what! The cafeteria put up little pumpkins today and I remembered we hadn’t gone out and gotten any yet and we don’t have weights or Zumba today, and you don’t work until later so we totally have time to-”

Emile cut himself off as he realized that the kitchen area (that was more than a kitchenette but less than an actual kitchen) did not actually contain the person he was attempting to rant to.

Remy would give him to the count of three.

Sure enough, right as Remy ticked the final number off in his head, the door to their room (which had technically started as Remy’s but was now really both of theirs) was pushed open by Emile.

“Rem?” the voice called.

He couldn't quite make his vocal cords work, but he could shift slightly under the bed covers.

Seconds later the light in the room was flickering on and Emile’s warm gaze met Remy’s cold one.

“Oh,” Emile said, taking in the situation, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Remy replied meekly.

Emile sighed at the reply. But it wasn’t one of those sighs of frustration or annoyance. It was one of those small sighs that was just a breath of air. A reassurance. Emile always sighed like that. Remy thought it was maybe a stupid thing to love, but he loved it nonetheless.

Emile walked forward and settled on the edge of the bed, extending an arm with the palm face up.

A knot grew in Remy’s throat, even as he extended his own hand to grasp Emile’s.

“You’re usually up by now,” Emile offered.

“I know,” he said.

“What are you at?”

Remy sighed. This sigh wasn’t like Emile’s nor was it one of frustration. No, it was a sigh representative of the crushing weight of everything in the world building up and accumulating, dragging Remy down with it.

“Big SAD’s at like a six or seven? It’s, it’s not so bad. Just used to it being a lot better now. This year hit hard,” Remy confided.

Emile nodded and rubbed his thumb soothingly against the back of Remy’s hand.

“I need to get up,” Remy said.

“You usually check on your plants,” Emile said. It was his way of agreeing, his way of encouraging and supporting Remy on days like this without providing pressure. Holding his hand and grounding him, reminding him he wasn’t alone. Talking about his plants and their needs, reminding him he had a routine. That getting up seemed impossible, but it wasn’t.

Remy groaned loudly before dropping Emile’s hand and rolling to the side of the bed. He let his weight carry himself over the edge, caught him just before he fell, and stood.

He made it out of bed. That was something.

(Emile’s soft laughter at his behavior was also quite the reward).

As Emile continued to giggle, the faint outline of a smile graced Remy’s face. He rushed forward and lifted Emile up, twirling him once before setting him down and giving his hair a soft kiss. He released Emile, and then started for the day.

“Plants first,” Remy said, “Then breakfast. Sound good?”

“I can help with breakfast,” Emile offered.

“No,” Remy insisted immediately, “No I always make breakfast, it’s okay.”

Emile shrugged, but relented without further argument.

Remy moved to the windowsill that contained his plants, and began to check the first one’s leaves. Emile stood right next to him, not quite in his way, but close to it.

“Maybe I should get some plants. Maybe some flowers that can grow indoors.”

“Em, honey, you don’t have the time.”

Em pouted, sweater paws folding over his chest, but didn’t protest Remy’s claim. Remy laughed at the sight and moved to the next plant.

The fog of depression still settled in his brain, but now that he was up and talking and moving, it seemed to be lifting a bit more. It was settling back to be manageable once more, instead of overwhelming. He could deal with that.

“Remy! This one has flowers!” Emile suddenly exclaimed, from further down the windowsill, which considering the windowsills length, was just a few more inches down.

Remy pulled his attention away from the current succulent he was inspecting, and directed it towards the plant Emile had been pointing out.

Sure enough, just in between two thick green nubs, a long green stem with tiny blooming white flowers appeared. Remy smiled at the sight and Emile tucked into his side.

“It’s pretty,” Emile claimed.

“Mmhmm, yeah,” Remy agreed, hooking his head over Emile’s own, and holding him there for a minute. He wasn’t really quite tall enough to do such, so he had to stand on his tiptoes and raise his chin a bit, but it was so worth it.

They stood there together a bit, peering at the little white flowers, before moving onward with their day.

During breakfast, Emile re-explained what he had started to that morning when he had first entered the apartment.

He told Remy about how the main dining hall now had the tiny baby pumpkins up in it and how they absolutely had to get some for the apartment themselves. He was practically begging, coming up with a billion and one reasons that they should get them, as if Remy didn’t love them just as much.

After breakfast, they cleaned up, and Remy showered and dressed, before heading out to get said pumpkins. Emile had been right, it was hard to find substantial time when they were both free to do things together, and Thursday mornings happened to be one of the few times. They still didn’t have a lot of time, but it was something.

They were walking in the direction of the grocery story when Emile came to a complete halt. Remy blinked and tried to figure out what had happened.

Just a minute ago Emile had been talking about one of his classes. Remy had been trying to listen, really he had, but the fog in his brain had started to pick up again, making each step a little bit harder and listening to even mindless chatter almost impossible

It also meant that if Emile had given any warning or explanation for stopping, Remy had completely missed it.

“Emile?” he asked.

“Let’s get coffee,” he said, gesturing to the Starbucks in front of them.

Okay, that wasn’t fair. Emile knew he was going to say yes.

“Coffee’s expensive,” he mentioned. They were broke college students which was why it was completely unfair of Emile to say they were getting coffee because of course Remy was going to say yes but they couldn’t keep buying the stuff if they wanted to have food for meals and tiny pumpkins.

“Yeah, but I know you love the seasonal drinks. My treat,” was Emile’s response.

“Emile, I’m literally the one with the discount.”

And the one with the father that was more than willing to fund Remy’s coffee addiction three times over but he was trying to adult himself with minimal support from parents. Minimal support meaning yes please pay for my education and part of rent that is very appreciated but also I should probably learn how to feed and clothe myself I’ll let you know if I’m failing at that and then you can swoop in and save me.

“Okay. Then your discount, my money. Mostly my treat.”

Emile’s defense was weak at best but it didn’t really take much to convince Remy in the first place. Plus, he had that blinding smile on his face that just made Remy melt.

“Okay,” he agreed, “Okay. Coffee. But we can’t make it a habit.”

Emile shrugged, nodded, and pulled him towards the door.

“We won’t,” he promised, “Just today. Special occasion.”

Remy grinned lightly. Emile was always saying stuff like that, calling mundane things special or important. Remy pretended to hate it, but somehow, whenever Emile did it, it really did make whatever event just a little bit magical.

“And what, pray tell, is so special,” he drawled, dropping his arm onto Emile’s shoulder.

Emile shrugged and moved forward to get in line, Remy trailing afterwards, leaning his weight against him just to piss him off. (It didn’t seem to be working as Emile just sorta snuggled into his side and, great, now he was blushing).

“It’s special because…” Emile trailed, before his eyes lit up like gems, “Because you got out of bed this morning!”

A lump grew in Remy’s throat and he had the urge to take his arm off of Emile’s shoulder. The blush that had spread across his cheeks faded.

“I did,” he said, aiming for casual, “Y’know, it’s pretty simple. You just yank off the covers and hop out. Or fall off in this morning's case.”

Emile gave him a look.

“Yeah. It is simple. Doesn’t mean it's easy,” Emile said, with that wisdom he seemed to always carry and spew out. Damn emotional intelligence.

Remy did drop his arm this time, pulling it away from Emile.

Emile frowned and opened his mouth, but didn’t get the opportunity to say anything more as they made it to the front of the line.

Remy moved forward quickly and ordered for himself. When he was done, he went to order for Emile like he always did, but stopped when he realized that Emile hadn’t actually told him what he wanted this time.

See, Remy always ordered for Emile. Emile’s anxiety made it harder for him to talk to strangers, especially when it involved ordering or asking for something. It was certainly something Emile was capable of doing, and something he sometimes insisted on doing just so that he knew he still could, but it was also something he generally preferred not to do. Remy had no such issues and so Emile would tell him what he wanted and Remy would order for them both.

But Emile hadn't gotten the chance to tell him what he wanted. Remy could guess, but he hated to do that when Emile was right here and could choose what he wanted himself. He hated to assume, even if he was usually pretty spot on. Knowing Emile for such a long time made it pretty easy at this point.

The worker was looking at them now, as Remy’s pause went on for a touch too long.

“Emile?” Remy asked.

“Oh, uh,” the other boy stuttered, before rattling his own order off.

They didn’t really speak until they had left the shop and continued on their way to the grocery store.

“Earlier,” Emile started, “I know you can get out of bed. I wasn’t trying to- I dunno- mock you or something. I just know that it can be hard for you- that it was hard this morning. I-” he shrugged, “I’m not proud of you because that’s just-” he wrinkled his nose up, “That’s not something for me to be proud of, but you… You should be proud of yourself.”

Remy sighed and reached out to clutch Emile’s hand.

“I know,” he agreed, “It’s just that…” he sighed, and the fog in his brain continued to swirl around, “Thank you,” he said instead and worked on trying to maybe take Emile’s words to heart. The swirling didn’t seem to like it, but it could fuck off because he was going to buy little mini pumpkins with his- his Emile and it was going to be great.

Emile squeezed his hand.

“Pumpkins?” Remy offered, and Emile just smiled and nodded in return.

They didn’t have the time to decorate their apartment with all the little pumpkins they bought because they were starting to run late for morning skate. So they left the clump on the small table in the main room before getting ready and heading towards practice.

As they did so, a little foreign weight dropped in Remy’s stomach. It wasn’t like the fog. It was more like dread. It was starting to become a familiar feeling whenever practice and games approached. Remy absolutely hated it. Plus, morning skate wasn’t even really practice, it was just to get them moving so why the hell did Remy feel this way?

He enjoyed hockey. He did. He really really did.

(Just maybe not lately).

But he ignored the feeling, as well as the concerned look from Emile and headed out the door. They had morning skate to attend.

It wasn’t until late evening that they were both home at the same time.

The moment Remy walked through the doors he wrestled Emile away from his studying because come on Em, you can take ten minutes to decorate the apartment. Emile relented, standing to give a soft kiss on Remy’s jaw, and moved towards the pumpkins from earlier. Remy absolutely did not blush whatsoever and followed.

“Remy,” Emile commented once they were finishing up, “Are you- Are you doing alright lately?”

The fog buzzed louder.

Remy let out a weak chuckle.

“I’m always doing alright,” he said.

Emile just gave him a look.

“No really,” Remy insisted, even as a lump formed in his throat, “I’m- I mean. I’m okay. Uh- this morning was hard. Today wasn’t- wasn’t the best. I can tell this year isn’t going to be the best. But yeah, yeah Em I’m okay. I promise.”

Emile’s worry dropped a bit but didn’t fade completely.

“Okay,” he said, “I- You’ve just seemed more stressed lately. Uh- with Logan-” Emile swallowed and Remy squeezed his eyes tight for a second, “With Logan… out. I mean, it’s a lot more on you.”

“I’ve been Starter before,” Remy said gently.

“Yeah. I know.”

Because Remy had been Starter before. But not- not like this. Never like this before. And they both knew it.

“It is more,” Remy admitted, “But it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Emile said, and let it rest.

What Remy didn’t say was that it wasn’t the extra games, extra playtime that was getting to him.

It was the team’s faces.

It was how they went into games expecting to lose and Roman and Patton couldn’t agree on a single thing and Remus was getting reckless again and even Deceit was joining him and Virgil just seemed off and the fans hated that Remy was taking Logan’s place because it was Logan’s place and sure Remy was good but he wasn’t Logan good and they all knew it and it wasn’t even a bad thing but it did mean that even playing his best Remy knew he was letting his team down, letting Logan down, letting himself down.

But it wasn’t the playtime.

Oh no, it was so much more than just the playtime.

The fog expanded, pushing down and back on Remy’s brain, encoating him in a layer of discontentment and hopelessness and misery.

Remy sighed. He set the last pumpkin down.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” he said.

Emile nodded. He usually checked the clock when Remy announced he was retiring for the night, making sure that it hadn’t gotten too late yet. But he didn’t bother this time. They both knew it was still much too early for either of them to be sleeping.

“Okay,” Emile said, and smiled, but it didn't quite stretch across his face like it usually did, “I have work to do still, but I’ll join you in awhile.”

“Okay,” Remy agreed.

And they both stood there staring at each other.

Then, suddenly, Emile lurched forward and grasped Remy tightly, clutching the taller boy in a tight hug. Startled, but not about to deny the hug, Remy gripped back, just as tight.

He didn’t start to cry, but it was close.

“Love you,” Emile said.

“Love you too,” Remy responded, voice muffled from where his head was buried in Emile’s neck and trying not to cry.

With that, he headed off to bed.

Later, Emile would slip in next to him, acting in a rare occasion as the big spoon. That next morning would be a little bit easier and three mornings after that would be a little bit harder. Remy would continue to get out of bed.

Hockey would continue and Logan wouldn’t return and tensions on the team would get worse. Through all of it, Remy would be caught in the absolute worse position as Logan’s replacement.

But for now, Remy would go to bed early, fog pressing down, harsh and unforgiving, but still much softer than the upcoming storm. Because that’s really all this was, wasn’t it? The calm before the storm.

~~~

taglist below

-ask to be added or removed-

@mewithanie @eddies-spaghetti @lemonyellowlogic @savioursailor @goldteethandacurseforthistown

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killersolo · 4 years ago

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OC ask games but instead if reblogging the asks I answer them myself for Eugene's development

put under a read more cause this is....long [also i couldnt answer all questions oops]

dnd character ask meme by gendermybeloved

what kind of clothing does your character like to wear? do they have a style? anything they avoid wearing? Eugene wears button ups, a lot, with funky little patterns on them. Usually they are blue, turquoise, green and pink. He usually just wears blue denim pants, however if his shirt is blue he tries to avoid wearing blue pants under them. As for shoes he just wears, usually white, sneakers.

what's their current hairstyle? has it changed? do they change it often? Eugene's hair is short, but the long kind of short. He usually wears it with a small crest, but sometimes he lets it down too. During Mann Co. it was a lot shorter because Soldier demanded they'd all keep their hair short. In his mid-teens [15-16] he started off with a bit of a mullet that eventually grew into longer hair that he'd keep in place with a headband, [think Your Worst Nightmare kind of long] he cut it off at around 17.

is your character more articulate in their thoughts than their words? if yes, do they do anything about that? do they care? Eugene is more articulate in his thoughts, he tends to have very rambled thoughts that make sense to him but when he has to out those words it can be a little chaotic/rambly as well. But if he has to prepare text it comes out a lot more structured. He doesn't do anything about it cause he enjoys being a little chaotic like that.

would your character sing along to a vaguely familiar song, even if they messed up the lyrics as they went? No, Eugene will only sing along if he knows the words. If a song is vaguely familiar he'll only hum along with it.

if they wear any, how does your character go about applying makeup? Eugene doesn't wear makeup.

do they usually sleep in a certain pose? does it change? Fetal position is the go to but not a necessity when sleeping.

how would they react to eating something that was spicier than they expected it to be? Tears would form in his eyes and he'd cough a little but he's too stubborn to admit he can't handle it/it's too spicy.

are their hands steady? Yes, absolutely. Thanks to sniper training they got steadier than before.

if someone gave them flowers, what would they do with them? He'd be very confused. Eventually he'll accept them but it's very uncomfortable and awkward for him. If something like this [affection and/or something so confronting and unexpected] happens to him he'll be the type to say no out of discomfort even though he'd want to say yes.

would they sneak out at night to look at the sky? how long would they stay there looking? Absolutely, he'd use his dogs as an excuse to go outside and he'd just stay there for as long as he or his dogs like.

how do they feel about casual endearments? (babe, etc) Uncomfortable, he'd need to get used to them a lot.

what colour would they paint their room? would there be a design on the ceiling? He'd be too undecisive to choose colours or patterns. On the ceiling there are those green and purple glow in the dark stickers.

what helps them fall asleep when they're having trouble doing so? ASMR or watching those YouTube documentaries.

do they tend to run hot or cold? do they do anything to deal with that? xx I'm not sure what this question means

what's a sound they can't stand? The sound [and sight] of people eating.

would they draw patterns in frosted windows/fogged up mirrors? what would they draw? He'd draw smiley faces and dogs [and male genitalia when it's appropriate.]

do they fidget? how and/or with what? A lot! He has multiple fidget. He scratches his neck a lot, he scratches his thumbs a lot too, and he rubs his knuckles over his chest sometimes [ this also because of the scar itching].

would they sing a lullaby, if the opportunity arose? Nah, not a fan of lullabies.

do they see patterns in the world around them? do they point them out to people? All the time, but he barely points them out because more often than not people look at him weird for either not seeing the pattern or confusion.

do they like to keep plants/growing things in their space? His favourites are cacti and succulents, though most of them are fake because he forgets to take care of them a lot.

do they touch or mess with their hair/horns a lot? Usually only the hair on his neck thanks to his neck scratches, and a hand through his hair once in a while but that's it.

when they speak, do they have a default tone of voice? if yes, do they try to change it? why?

do they wrap their arms around their stomach when it hurts?

what kind of bookmarks, if any, do they like to use? No bookmarks, only memory. When it's a book they read in class, he uses colour coded sticky bookmarks for discussions in class.

do they keep books on their person? what kind? Only when he needs to bring them to his job, or when he plans on reading them [for example on a long train ride].

do they write in their books? do they mind other people writing in their books? what do they write? Yes, he writes in his books mainly for things he notices or for discussion points in class [like foreshadowing or patterns or smth similar]

do they write often? why/what about? Not really, Eugene sometimes tries to write down what he feels, because he has troubles expressing emotion and he hopes it may help him.

if they can fly, how do they feel in the moment their feet touch the ground again? n/a

if they wear any, where did they get their jewellery? He has matching sword necklaces with Demoman, but he only rarely wears it. He doesn't like jewellery too much as it feels bothersome to him.

have they ever tried to count their own freckles? do they count other people's? n/a, no freckles.

did they climb all over/onto things as a kid? Only in trees.

can they play darts? would they? He can easily play, and win, darts thanks to his aim as an ex-sniper but he doesn't because he just thinks it boring.

where are they in a group hug? (dead center, outside, etc) Nowhere, group hugs are too overwhelming [too much touching]

what's the first thing they think when they hear an alarm? what's the first thing they do? His ears perk up and he looks around to try and figure out what is going on.

do they sing with their head voice or their chest voice? Chest voice

(if they have hair that needs to be brushed) how often do they do so? do they do it gently? n/a

how would they pass the time on a train? Either reading, listening to music or playing puzzle games [like picross or I Love Hue].

do they bother to clean ink/chalk/gunpowder/etc off of their fingers? are they likely to forget it's there and smudge their nose? im not sure how to answer this one

do they keep working even when their wrists start to cramp? if they do, do they give themselves a break when the work is done? He does keep working because, once he's started something and is in the right mindset he doesn't want to stop and once again he's too stubborn to stop as well.

if their mattress became uncomfortable as time passed, would they notice it? would they do anything about it? He wouldn't notice because he already gets barely any sleep anyway.

20 assorted OC asks by pieniharmaakani

Why did you pick their name? I blame Eugene from Animal Crossing.

Why did your character get that name in-universe? I haven't thought about this yet tbh.

How do they talk in a formal situation?

How do they talk with close people?

If they got a tattoo, what kind? If they have tattoos, what would their next one be? He's got an aboriginal kangaroo tattoo on his upper right arm/shoulder. A crocodile tattoo from his lower back to his stomach, and a snake tattoo from his knee, going around his leg and ending at his foot/ankle. For his next tattoo he maybe wants something small on his hip or collarbone, but he isn't sure what.

Alpine skiing, cross-country skiing, downhill tobogganing/sledding, or ice skating? Ice skating, as it's most similar to roller-skating.

Their 2020s AU quarantine craft of choice? Music, and trying to cook but failing poorly.

Which era of historical fashion do you think would fit them?

What's their most annoying trait? His stubbornness and struggle to let go [inflexibility].

What makes them nice to be around?

What do they look for first in another person?

What do other people often notice first in them?

Their cliche YA novel scent combo? (Like 'X smelled like rhododendron and dewdrops and the pages of a 100-year-old library book 😩')

Good or bad at math? Bad/average.

Likes studying languages, yes or no? Yes!

Kitchen catastrophe or gourmet home cook? Catastrophe

What's their breakfast like? Boring, just the regular cereal with milk, and if he's late just the nearest thing he can get his hands on.

Do they have a favourite accessory / item of clothing? If yes, why that? Nope not at all.

What cute thing were they into as a tween that they cringe about now? (Let them know I love it!)

What kind of people are their type that they find most attractive? (Either platonic, romantic or sexual attraction.)

Oc Asks Game by inky-duchess

What is your character's reaction to a minor inconvenience? Such as getting their jumper caught on a door handle? Normally he wouldn't mind but when he's having a bad day he'd lose his mind.

Tea, coffee, hot chocolate or other? Tea is the usual hot drink! The other two only in specific situations.

What does their safe space look like?

What do they consider to be an unforgivable action? Why?

Do they have any nicknames or pet names or other aliases?

What kind of books comfort them? What books help them heal after a hard day?

Are they a naturally assertive person or are they painfully shy? Usually a bit assertive but when a situation is unfamiliar he can be a bit taken aback/shy, but he can adapt quite quickly.

Do they consider themselves a friendly person or aloof? He considers himself friendly, but he can come across a bit aloof at certain times.

What is your character's trigger point? What makes them angry, sad or makes them go off?

What kind of jokes make them laugh?

Do they enjoy pranks or do they hate them? Are they likely to fall for a prank? If the prank is harmless he enjoys them. He falls for pranks a lot because of his obliviousness/naiveté/whatever that thing that autistic people have is called.

Are they an overall healthy person? Do they make for a good patient or a terror?

Describe your character's typical wardrobe for the regular day. Button up, jeans and sneakers.

Are they a simple person to please or difficult?

What is the first thing people notice about them?

What do they look for in a friend? A love interest?

Who are they soft for? Do they find being soft easy or difficult?

Describe your character through a Brooklyn 99 gif or line.

What does your character consider to be their lowest point?

Does your character have a comfort item?

What would be one item that they would hate to lose most?

What are their eating habits like? Do they snack throughout the day? Or do they eat sparsely? Sparsely, he forgets to eat quite a lot and even when he does it's not really enjoyable.

What is your character's favourite food and who cooks it best?

What are your character's special skills?

What are somethings they find difficult to do? Or say?

Are they an animal person? Do they have pets? Eugene loves animals more than anything in the world, he absolutely melts at them. He's got 2 dogs himself as well.

What are their opinions on children? Do they view children as sweet angels or evil crotch goblins? He really doesn't like kids,,,at all. He doesn't want kids either.

If your character was in today's world, what social media platforms would they avoid? Or be prominent on? He'd try to avoid facebook, instagram and twitter, though he would post to instagram or twitter just once in a while. He uses discord for friends and even 1 class for the pandemic. WhatsApp is used mainly for contact.

Are they an organised person? Or more laissez-faire? It's organised chaos. He's got everything organized but only in a way that he knows where everything is.

Do they dwell better in chaotic situations or more linear situations? Linear

Your character has been invited to a masquerade ball. What mask do they wear?

Your character is having a prom night/debs. What kind of outfit do they wear?

How do they act around people they don't know? Are they shy around strangers or dismissive of them?

Can your character drive? If so, what kind of driver are they? If not what's their preferred manner of transport? He can drive just fine, he's a very relaxed driver but can't focus when other people in the car talk too much.

What attracts your character to another person? What kind of person do they do for?

Tell us something about your OC that doesn't make it onto the page? He's got quite the bit of trauma/ptsd. The reason I haven't talked about this yet is because I'm not sure how to write it accurately, yet.

Your character has been kidnapped. Who has kidnapped them and how do they escape?

How does your character unwind after a long day?

What's your character's guilty pleasure?

Your character's friend has just been mugged. What's their reaction?

Your character has been punched into the face. What's their reaction? He's not a huge fan of violent/physical confrontations, so he'd just get angry with whoever punched them. If they punch a second time, Eugene will gladly return it.

Does your character celebrate their birthday? If not, why? Yeah

What is the DND alignment? Chaotic Neutral

Hogwarts House?

Star Sign? Leo

Does your character believe in anything? Religion? Superstition? He's neutral on it, but he find it fascinating and interesting to talk about.

What is your character's reaction when someone does something nice for them? Discomfort.

Is your character easy to make cry? Or angry? Or annoyed? Not angry or annoyed but frustrated.

What is your character's biggest fear? Most irrational? Being forgotten.

How does your sleep at night? Are they a heavy or light sleeper? Do they dream or have nightmares? Do they find it easy to sleep or are they more a night owl? He's more of a night owl, but when he sleeps he does have nightmares quite often. He only sleeps when he's completely exhausted.

#out of classes #headcanons #//just wanted to do this for fun #:D

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samotchkaficrecs · 6 years ago

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The Umbrella Academy Fic Recs!

Okie,so i just recently finished the Umbrella Academy and immediatley wanted more, so like any attached person would i searched for fanfiction!

The fandom isn’t as huge as some others but there is a good stream of fics coming through on archive, so i got all these from there! (Also there won’t be many ship fics, because incest)

[As always a ★ means that it’s one of my highly reccomended]

General

★Succulents - by KaneNogami

Succulents, they're called.

So tiny. He looks at the pots who fell on top of another, dirt everywhere inside the crate. A respectable person would walk away, returning home to go to bed before sunrise. That's good Klaus has never claimed to be respectable, as he can fill his pockets with plants, and his arms too. That's going to bring colors inside the living graveyard they're stuck in (minus the ghosts, well outside of his).

- In which Klaus puts his siblings and himself back together, with the help of a bunch of succulents

(complete)

This Cage You Wove Around Me is Perfect - by shadowlancer_95

Klaus has a terrifying moment of clarity where he wonders just how much like dad Luther was.

Or,

In which Klaus is reminded of the mausoleum, decides to say fuck it to Luther and averts the apocalypse all on his own.

(complete)

★The Moon Laughs - by Lady_Origami

After attempting to transport all of his siblings back in time, Five wakes up to a familiar scene. Again. And again. And again. He doesn't know why he keeps being transported back to the day of his father's funeral, but he is determined to not waste it now that he has the foresight to prevent the apocalypse. He just wished he didn't feel so alone doing it all over again.

(ongoing)

Blink - by Lady_Origami

When Five blinks, sometimes he's back in the world of ash and embers. It's hard to remember how to breathe when that happens. In which Klaus tries to play the role of supportive brother with Ben's help, and Five struggles more than he lets on.

(complete)

★as you choke on all the words you long to exhale within your next breath - by wellthengetouttathesoupaisle

“Twenty-two minutes?” Reginald Hargreeves barks incredulously. “Impossible. By all means, he should be dead.”

And by all means, Diego should. Stuck at the bottom of a pool with a slab of concrete on his chest, pinning him to the gritty bottom—he should have kicked it within the first few minutes. But he hadn’t.

(complete)

Too Old To Be So Young - by KaseyBeth

Five winced loudly, pushing his head off the floor to see bright red smeared across his chest and stomach; crimson soaked into his shorts, running down his leg. His head fell back against the ground dizzyingly, and he groaned as someone touched the wound, biting his bottom lip as he tried to stay conscious. The end of life, of everything, was in three days; they didn’t have time for this, he didn’t have time for this. A bullet wound, a stupid bullet wound and all that stupid concern and worry, was just going to slow them down. There wasn’t time for mistakes, or hiccups, or rest and recovery. It was the end of the fucking world. Sickfic so be warned. Also set between episodes 6/7 and spoilers. Also, in here their mother is still dead.

(complete)

come hell or high water - by wearealltalesintheend

“I heard a rumor,” Allison writes, fingers trembling, even as she tries another reassuring smile, “it’s gonna be okay.”

And Klaus wants so bad to believe her, it nearly works."

or, things go differently when Luther locks Vanya in the cage. Three conversations and one sleepover that happen before the world doesn't end.

(complete)

some old ghosts we grew attached to - by Karturtle (karturtle)

When they were young, Ben never really knew how to get along with Five.

(complete)

★6 Times Five Helped Out His Siblings... - by kbaycolt

... and one time they helped him.

(Or, in which the Hargreeves siblings realize the true extent of Five's trauma.)

(complete)

Trying to be done trying. And failing - by wolfypuppypiles

"You cannot convince me that Diego’s heart doesn’t stop every time they announce on the police radio that they’ve found a dead junkie" - ealeczander on tumblr

Diego listens to the police radio and prays the dead junkie in the gutter isn't Klaus.

(complete)

Twelve - by castelmax

The Hargreeves children celebrate their twelfth birthdays and get their names.

(complete)

there is simply nothing worse than knowing how it ends - by Drhair76

"What's this?" He said pointing a finger at the bread and peanut butter that was laid across the table top.

Five rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. "What do you think. It's a sandwich."

"Oh?" Klaus reached out a hand to brush the sleeve of his beloved hoodie. "And what's this?"

or, the one where Klaus 'loses' a hoodie, Five gets a hug and Ben is proud.

(complete)

With the Ink of a Ghost - by floralhearts

“It’s good to have you back,” Luther clapped his no longer deceased brother on the shoulder, “We missed you.”

Klaus didn’t miss the way Ben’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh that’s rich.” The smaller hissed.

or,

Their first reunion with Ben goes a little different than they had originally expected.

(complete)

a game of waiting - by sky_blue_hightops

He was always the fastest. He always beat the others up the stairs, down the halls, through time and space. If there's one lesson he's learned, it's that there's always a finish line. A stopping place. Blood bubbles from between his fingers, and suddenly there's no air in his lungs. *** Five jumps in front of a bullet. He calls it quick reflexes. Diego calls it stupidity.

(complete)

★If You're Different And You Know It (you're not alone) - by M3zzaTh3M3z

"Five was different. He’d always known. Different from most people, what with his freakish birth, powers and unconventional upbringing, all that old news. And different from his siblings. He was smarter. His powers were stronger. And he’d never picked a name. All that was old news too. But there was something else that separated him from the rest, something he didn’t know how to put a finger on, how to categorize, analyse, understand. Five didn’t like not understanding. It was probably Klaus that made him first notice something was off."

(complete)

haven't you heard of meditation? - by rosesareredvioletsareblue

"Klaus, you have a piece of glass sticking out of your neck!"

Klaus felt for the glass, wincing as he found it.

"Oh yeah. Fun." It took all of Five's willpower not to throttle him.

(complete)

★skirts and sweaters - by slightlyworriedhuman

"I don't want to be a ‘cute little schoolboy’ anymore, alright?” Five snapped. For some reason, the thought of himself as a schoolboy was enough to make his skin prickle. Was it the implication that he was younger than the rest of them, less mature despite his life? ...Yeah, it was definitely that. Absolutely.

Five wants a change in wardrobe. His siblings are more than happy to help.

(complete)

That’s all... for now anyways!

I know there was a lot of Five centric fics, buuut he’s my favourite so of course imma read fanfics about him

as usual i hope you enjoyed this list and if you haven’t watched the series (i don’t know why your here if you haven’t?) then you should! drop everything and watch it now!!

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solarianwitch · 6 years ago

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🌵Cactus Care 101🌵: Cactus Pests, Oh No!

Pests are a part of plant life, and as a gardener or plant enthusiast, you will run across some of them eventually. The most important thing to remember when dealing with cactus pests is that everyone will deal with them. Everyone also makes mistakes with their plants, and it’s completely normal to be a little shaky in the beginning. It happens to the best of us, and these are a few tips to take out the pests common in cacti.

Tips To Prevent Pests:

A good offense against pests is a good defense. The more preventative measures you do, the less likely you’ll have any major problems.

- Check your plants frequently, you’ll be more likely to notice something is wrong the more aware of your plants you are.

- Remove any dead leaves or dead flowers: The less dead or decaying matter, the less likely pests will take up residence.

- Keep your plant pots and the space where you keep your plants clean.

- Quarantine any new plants for a sufficient amount of time and repot them into fresh soil.

The 3 Most Common Cactus Pests:

Cactus pests are mostly the same for all ornamentals, but they do have a few that prefer to prey on them due to their succulent nature. This is by no means a comprehensive list, but the odds are if you have an infestation, it’s one of the three pests listed below.

As a disclaimer, if you believe you cannot effectively treat a plant and are worried it will infect your entire collection if you keep it, feel free to throw it away. I’m not judging you for it, and most seasoned plant keepers won’t either. Sometimes it’s just not worth the risk or effort.

Mealy Bugs and Scale:

The Mealybug is also known as Mealies. Scale is the mealybug’s cousin, with the symptoms and treatment for both of them being almost the same. They are probably the most infamous pests of cacti and succulents, and are very difficult to eradicate once they’ve taken hold of a collection.

These are the creatures.

Mealybugs - image credit homyden.com

Scale - image credit lrgarden.com

Mealies and Scale feed on the juices of cacti, causing little scars where they puncture through the body of the plant to suck its juices.

For Mealybugs, white nests and clumps of insects you will see on cacti are the females of the species, the males are tiny little flies that will fly around and mate with them.

Sometimes mealybugs will burrow into the soil and latch on to the roots of the plant. They turn a pink color and are very difficult to pick out if you’re looking at a root system covered in dirt. These are called root mealies. Mealybugs also have a waterproof waxy coating on them that gives them their white fuzz, making it difficult for some pesticides to penetrate and kill them.

For Scale, they actually do look like little brown scales on your plant, and don’t move much as adults. The juveniles however are extremely small and will crawl around your plant until they find a good place to settle.

Scale can be armored or soft bodied, which can make it difficult for topical treatments to kill them.

Signs of Mealies and Scale:

- White Fuzz, Or Strange White Cotton Spots/ Brown Flecks or “Scales”-On fuzzy cacti, mealies can be difficult to spot, look for irregular white patches that spread. Scale is easier to see but can also hide at the base of your plant.

- Honey Dew - Sticky globs of sap may be found on your plant that are produced by the bugs. They can harden into a resin.

- Sooty Mold - Black sooty mold can grow on your plant due to the presence of the sticky sap mealybugs and scale produce.

- The Plant Wilting Or Failing To Thrive - If you see no signs of mealies and your plant is still wilting or off color, unpot it and check the roots. Root mealies will be pink versions of their white-bodied above ground siblings. Scale can also be hard to spot, so use a magnifying glass to get a closer look if you’re not sure.

Treatments:

- Immediately Isolate Your Plant - I cannot cannot cannot stress this enough. Mealies can crawl, mealies can move, mealies can hide under your pots and in the cracks of your windowsills, mealies can infect your entire collection, easily. Scale bugs as adults, rarely move, but they can reproduce quickly and are harder to eradicate, especially if they are the armored kind. Isolate any infected plants from your other plants. Proper isolation can make mealies or scale a simple frustration instead of an absolute nightmare.

- Alcohol Swaps - A q-tip dipped in rubbing alcohol can be directly applied to each bug you can find on your plant. It kills them instantly. Go over the whole plant and re do this for several days until you stop seeing them.

- Insecticidal Soap - Also known as potassium soap. Insecticidal soap destroys the white waxy coating on mealybugs and smothers them.

- Neem Oil - Sprayed on the plant similar to insecticidal soap.

- Systemic Insecticides - Controversial and should be used as a last resort. Mostly used for root mealies and bad scale/mealybug infestations. Follow the instructions very closely as these can be very toxic. If you have root mealies, systemics are unfortunately the only effective treatment for them.

- Alcohol Spray - Clean off whatever shelf or planter your plant was on, and spray it down completely with rubbing alcohol. Try to get in the cracks and places you normally can’t reach. Mealies can hide all around your plants.

- Repot the Plant - Mealies and baby scale can hide in the soil of your pots. It’s best to get rid of it completely and start again with a sterilized soil.

- After a year, consider your plants safe again, but remain vigilant. Spray all your plants with insecticidal soap every once and a while. I usually give my plants a good soaking with it before and after dormancy.

Disclaimer: Use caution when using soap or oils and exposing your plants to light, as they can cause chemical burns in sunlight!

Red Spider Mites:

Red Spider Mites are very small red mites that cluster in groups and can do a lot of damage to cacti. They are tiny red dots, and you’d probably need some help to see them individually with a magnifying glass or phone flashlight.

Red spider mites - image credit cactusnursery.co.uk

Signs of Red Spider Mites:

- Webs - you will see webbing similar to a spider’s all over your plants, with no spiders to be found.

- Scarring of the plant - your plant will have white or yellow patches of scar tissue on it, especially over new growth

- Tiny red dots that move - these guys are small, but you can see them with the naked eye. They also like to clump in larger red clumps.

Treatments:

- Immediate Isolation from the rest of your collection. It would be wise to give your entire collection a spraying with insecticidal soap or miticide as well.

- Spider mites hate to be wet. Adjust the environment to be less dry or drown them with a insecticidal soap or miticide. As a disclaimer, most systemic insecticides do not work on spider mites, so make sure whatever treatment you use actually is effective.

- Neem Oil is an effective treatment against spider mites, just be careful about placing your plants in full sun after using it.

- Continue spraying until the red patches and webs have vanished and no new scarring occurs. Continue to spray for a few weeks afterwards and keep a close eye on the plant to make sure the mites haven’t returned.

Good luck cactus friends!

I know I did this before the sick cacti post, that one is coming up next!

- Solarian

Link To All Cactus Care 101 Posts Here!

#my posts #cactus care 101 #cactus care #cactus #plant witch #green witch #this took a long time to do I'm sorry!#witch #witchcraft #sun witch #plant care #cacti #cactuses #plantblr #solar witch #cactus witch

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sleeping-is-for-the-weak-nerds · 6 years ago

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AHHH, okay, so I thought of something not the norm, but hear me out, okay!?

So I have the summary and a few characters done, so I’ll put all of that down.

Summary

Thomas, Virgil, Roman, Logan, and Patton are fraternal quintuplets...or, at least, they thought they were. Until their mother told them that the only thing they shared was a birthday and herself. Turns out that they’re half brothers, with the exception of Logan and Thomas, the only true twins. Now, of course they couldn’t be mad at their mother, who was only trying to protect them, but they definitely could be mad at their absentee fathers. That is...until they realize that there was a very good reason why their fathers stayed away.

Main Characters

Logan

Godly parent is Apollo

He is unfortunately the middle child

Twin brother of Thomas (Younger)

Has the more medical side of Apollo’s powers

Eidetic memory

Healing powers (less like tangled, and more like *touch* leave, you’re fixed)

Archery skills out of the wazoo, though since he’s indoors most of the time, no one knows this.

Patton

Hermes kid

Oldest child

He’s more of the ‘traveler’s helper’ from Hermes’ bag o’ tricks, but honestly? He can give as good as he gets.

Can voice mimic anyone to a tee as soon as he hears it.

Basically has teleport powers, but that takes a lot out of him, so he doesn’t use it all that much.

Can pickpocket like a pro, which he uses to his advantage when he thinks his brothers are hiding something.

Roman

Dionysus

Second youngest

He’s not a huge part of the wine aspect of Dionysus, more like the party and theater aspect

He can talk to animals. No joke. To him, it’s always like if we were to learn a new language. Except for leopards and dolphins. Those he understands perfectly.

When he feels super strong emotions, vines grow from the ground. Nothing’s usually on them, except for one time, but he won’t talk about it, nor will his brothers.

Virgil

EROS, BABY!

Youngest

Oh, he’s so confused and a little pissed when he finds out his father, but he realizes that it explains quite a bit. Mostly of the fact that he’s basically a matchmaker, but like, a subtle one.

He can see everyone’s string of fate, even his own. And no, despite popular belief, strings are not just red, they actually have two separate colors, each representing the people in that fated relationship, that at first are clashing against each other, and the closer that person gets to their fated one, the more the colors blend.

He can’t shoot arrows. Not because he doesn’t know how (trust him, Thomas and Logan quickly made sure he, Patton, and Roman could safely shoot an arrow correctly and well) but because the minute his bare skin touches an arrow, it goes from being a regular arrow to being a love arrow. So, Virgil usually is wearing gloves if he absolutely has to touch an arrow.

Thomas

Apollo

Twin brother to Logan (Oldest)

Second oldest

He has the theatrics side of Apollo down pat

He has a mix of Patton’s voice mimicking and charmspeak, where, when he sings, it sounds like the person you’re wanting to hear.

Examples are if you wanted him to sing a Panic! at the Disco song, then all you’d hear is Brendon’s voice, if you wanted him to sing a Fall Out Boy song, you’d hear Patrick Stump’s voice, etc. Only his brothers have heard his real voice, when he’s writing original songs. They swear up and down that his normal singing voice is a 100 times better than anyone else singing.

He can’t play many intruments though. Though, neither can Logan.

He shares Logan’s eidetic memory and archery skills, so he can sight-read like a boss.

Remy

Okay, yeah, it’s Morpheus, but to be fair, this is the only stereotypical one, cut me some slack.

He’s got the sleeping powers, duh

If he concentrates, he can put people to sleep with a thought, and his range for this particular power is large--- like, 100 miles around at most.

He’s also able to show someone’s dreams, after he gets the okay from said person. Consent is not just for doing the do, kiddos.

STARBUCKS ADDICT, HONESTLY, THIS BOI

Dolos (take a guess, babes)

Hecate

He has the usual magic, but he’s also gained another power from Hecate’s field.

He can talk and bring forth ghosts.

The scales are a (for now) permanent side-effect from a botched spell.

Emile Picani

Demeter

He loves his mom, though he’s never really met her face-to-face. He has met his half sister Persephone, though. They have tea every Sunday in the Underworld. And no, I’m not kidding. Hades is very fond of him, and will personally punish anyone who hurts his precious flower brother.

He can grow plants anywhere at any time on a whim, even ones that don’t belong in the biome. They don’t die, either. (He has to want them to die, but he can’t do that.)

His favorites to grow are succulents, lavender, and ghost lilies.

Also, no matter when it is or what the weather is, he always walks around looking like he was just out on the perfect spring day. Smells and feels like it too.

Joan and Elliott

Aphrodite, though they kinda hated it for a while

Twin niblings, Joan then Elliot

In a fit of rebellion, the two played down their ethereal beauty by wearing what they wear today. They’ve since come to terms with their parent, but they still wear their signature looks because of comfort.

Both are still gorgeous, but will kick your butt if need be.

Both have a strong amount of charmspeak, and are thus immune to anyone else using charmspeak.

They both also have a metamorphmagus gene that they use to change anything and everything about themselves if needed/wanted.

Talyn

You wouldn’t believe it unless you saw them in battle, but it’s Ares.

They have an insane amount of strength, legit rivaling Heracles if they’re mad enough.

Seriously, there was this kid who was harassing Elliott and Joan, and Talyn came over, hoisted the guys (who was like, 6′2″) over their shoulder, and took him away. No one has seen him since.

But Talyn didn’t kill him!

...Maybe...

They can also stop any fight/battle/war with a snap of their fingers, as long as they themself, are in said fight/battle/war.

Kai, my BOY

Athena

War tactic side mostly, though

He (they?) can look at a map or a situation and immediately can tell you a plan which will work, he’s never had a plan fail him yet.

He’s not stupid though, and knows that there will be a day.

Phenomenal at weaving

Doesn’t share the usual fear of spiders that the rest of Athena’s kids have.

Considered an actual Godssend by his half siblings.

I might add more people later on, but now, ONTO THE SHIPS!

Ships

Patceit

Remy x Roman

Virgil x ?? (thinking Picani????)

Elliott x Kai x Lauren (a mortal who can see through the Mist)

Thomas x ??

Joan x Talyn (this may change)

WHOO! That was a long one! Hopefully y’all don’t get bored halfway through. Send me messages if you have any ideas for ships, questions, and so on!

Peace out!

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drbtinglecannon · 6 years ago

Text

Feathers and sniffles

Hi I wrote another huwumi fic cause I need more content so I guess I'll provide it myself. This is just a fluffy sickfic, hope you enjoy! Also on Ao3.

---

A delinquent's quirk managed to spread a non-lethal illness to anyone in a specific radius. They had been apprehended, but not before managing to make a number of high-ranking pros and regular civilians come down with an extremely exaggerated case of the common cold.

The exact names of the affected were kept from the public, as to not stir unease in the week or two it took for them to recover. In the meantime several hero academies took this opportunity to have students studying for their licenses to work in large groups and pick up all the patrolling hours being neglected.

UA was one of the schools involved in this project. Shouto has been texting Fuyumi updates often to help ease her stress of him and his other equally young classmates running around playing Hero.

Thankfully the individual infecting people was not affiliated with any group, and claims to have taken out a number of villains and petty criminals as well. Given there has been little incident last week and most drug stores have sold out of cough drops and cold medicine, the police are inclined to believe him but tighten security in certain areas to be safe.

Being related to one of the pros turned sick, Fuyumi volunteered to be among those trusted by the police to monitor some of the heroes a couple times a day. It was too dangerous filling any one hospital with all the out-of-commission pros during the mini epidemic, so their addresses were shared with a very small select group of family or friends.

Some heroes, like Best Jeanist, had a plethora of very dedicated employees to check up on them. Others who were more of loners, like Miruko, had to deal with good Samaritans coming by to help out a bit.

Which is how Fuyumi finds herself in Hawks apartment.

It was on the very top floor of the building, and immediately upon entry Fuyumi could see it had large glass doors that let copious amounts of light pour in, leading to a nice sized balcony that housed several potted plants. The location made sense, Hawks' wings made access to the highest level of the complex simple and the balcony was an added convenience to come and go from.

The space was otherwise plain looking with a small couch, weights, TV and gaming consoles, and a futon roll on the ground. There were a number of empty waters, feathers, and a couple bottles of painkillers strewn on the floor, probably used in vain to try and combat the quirk.

Of the few heroes Fuyumi stopped to visit during free time over the week, Hawks’ space was easily the cleanest. She shuddered thinking back on Mt.Lady’s disastrous place, hoping it was mostly due to her being sick and didn't always look like that.

The sound of running water came from down the hall, signaling the winged hero must be showering.

Fuyumi closed and locked the door behind her, taking her shoes off before sliding on the guest slippers by the door. It was a little nerve-wracking coming over at all, but even stranger to use a spare key to enter.

She dropped a small bag of essentials on the kitchen counter, quickly putting things in the fridge and searching the cabinets for a stock pot to reheat the soup in. Hawks had a surprisingly large array of cookware, leading her to assume he cooked often.

Eventually Fuyumi found an appropriate pot and poured the soup in, placing it on a burner. The water down the hall stopped, and a few moments later a door opened. “Hello, please excuse me!” She called out.

Uncharacteristically heavy footsteps padded down the hall, and there emerged a pitifully miserable looking Hawks. He had large bags under his eyes, his skin was pale and clammy even after his shower, his hair fell limply around his face, and his nose was red.

He sniffled, and rubbed his eyes. “Hey…” Even his voice sounded pitiful.

Fuyumi gave him a sympathetic look, not bothering to criticize he greeted a guest with nothing but a large fluffy towel around his waist and...very tiny wings.

There were hardly any of those bright colored feathers attached to his back, and the ones there drooped sadly. “Um...where are your wings?” Fuyumi tried and failed to word the question eloquently.

“Hm? Oh…” He cast a glance over his shoulder. “I can control the feathers, but when I'm super tired or sick it's kind of fuzzy so I just let ‘em fall off. They're all over my room.”

She nodded, still a little confused on the nature of his quirk. She's seen on TV before how he can remove and reattach the feathers at will, but it was strange to see him wingless because he couldn't control them in his current state.

“Well, I brought you chicken soup, I figured you would prefer that to miso.” She gestured to the pot. “I can make you a serving after you get dressed.”

She half expected him to make a teasing joke about his state of undress, but instead he made a non-committal noise and slowly shuffled back down the hall to his room. Though she appreciated he was too sick to sass or flirt for once, it was bizarre.

Fuyumi pulled a bowl out of the cabinet and filled it with soup, hoping it would help Hawks act a little more normal.

Loud footfall signaled his return, and he carelessly fell onto the couch. He was still shirtless but had put on baggy sweatpants and a small towel on his shoulders. Fuyumi supposed that was dressed enough, and hoped he wasn't so delirious he’d spill hot soup on his bare chest.

Fuyumi grabbed a water from the fridge and carried it over with the warmed food. She sat next to him, no concern over the illness being contagious from anyone but the actual quirk-user, and gently nudged the bowl into his hands.

He huffed a thanks, and they sat in mostly silence. Hawks quietly slurping spoonfuls of broth, sniveling every few seconds, and occasionally groaning softly in annoyance, and Fuyumi lightly tapping away on her phone.

Eventually Hawks finished the soup and downed the water. He slumped back on the couch while Fuyumi swiftly took the bowl back to the kitchen. She washed it and the pot, and gathered up the various discarded bottles on the floor for the recycling bin.

“Hawks? Won't you be more comfortable sleeping in your bed?” Fuyumi nudged his shoulder gently until he finally blinked his eyes open.

“Hmm…hey…” He dropped his head back down and tried to resume napping.

She breathed a laugh. “Yes, hi. Now come on, let me take you to bed.”

Fuyumi slapped her hand over her mouth, face heating up from the poor wording of her request. She stared at the hero wide-eyed, scared of what his response will be.

Maybe he'll just shamelessly flirt back? But what if he gets weirded out or offended? I'm just supposed to be here to help, not accidentally say awkward things...

Hawks lifted his head up again, and sniffled. “...ok.” He slowly pushed himself off the couch, grabbed Fuyumi’s hand, and led her down the hall. Or he won't care...that works too.

Normally Fuyumi would've protested holding hands, but Hawks looked so out of it he probably didn’t even notice he took her hand. His palm felt sweaty, but she decided not to vocally complain.

Fuyumi briefly wonders how it'd feel to hold his hand sometime when he's not sick. Not that she'd tell the winged hero that.

The walk down the hall is short, even despite how slowly Hawks was moving. He pushed open the door to his room and made a b-line to the bed, letting go of Fuyumi’s hand so he could fall face first on it.

He wasn't kidding earlier, his room was covered in feathers. The fluffy quills stuck all over everything as if a bomb of crimson paint had exploded. Fuyumi was momentarily terrified when the door first swung open before realizing the walls were in fact not caked in blood. Aside from that, there were a couple more small succulents on his dresser, some clothes thrown on the ground, and a tall bookcase filled with novels and comics.

There was a glass of water and some more medicine on the bedside table, which Fuyumi happily took note of.

Fuyumi glanced around, before stopping on Hawks’ form collapsed on the bed. “Would you like me to tuck you in?” Briefly she worried again about crossing any boundaries, but Hawks peered up at her and nodded.

He shuffled a little so he was no longer lying on the sheets. She pulled them up and draped them gently over his back and shoulders, smiling when he mumbled a thanks.

Fuyumi tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced around. “Would you like me to help clean up? There are a lot of feathers everywhere...”

Hawks closed his eyes and shook his head a little. He looked like he was going to pass out any second, but eventually he cleared his throat. “Todo-san?” She didn't comment on the nickname, but hummed encouragingly for him to continue. “...Would you stay ‘til I fall asleep?”

Fuyumi’s face felt warm, the request was innocent but asked so timidly. It was hard to turn him down, especially when he was in this state, so she agreed and sat on the edge of the bed next to him after scooting some quills out of the way.

Fuyumi played with her hair nervously, reading the titles on the binds of the books she could see from her spot. She glanced at Hawks and smiled softly at his relaxed and sleepy expression. He was usually so talkative and snarky, but being sick left him very quiet.

Hawks was still sniffling a bit as he lied there. “Todo-san?” His voice was so small she would've missed it if there was any other noise in the room.

“Yes, Hawks? Do you need anything?” Fuyumi leaned a little closer to better hear him when he responded.

“Thanks for coming by…’ppreciate it…” Hawks snuggled his face further into his pillow, which made it harder to hear his hoarse mumbling. “I owe y’one.”

Fuyumi laughed lightly. “It's no problem, but if you want to repay me you can just get better soon. Ok?” He hummed in response, probably too close to sleep to properly understand her words.

After a couple minutes of occasionally peeping at Hawks’ face to check for any discomfort, Fuyumi was certain he fell dead asleep. She slowly stood from the bed and tiptoed out of the room, gingerly closing the door behind her.

Fuyumi did a quick scan of the living room to see if there were any missed bottles to clean up. She grabbed her bag and was about to leave when she noticed a whiteboard on the fridge with a grocery list on it.

She paused, before taking the marker and writing a small note. With that she took her leave, locking the door behind her.

---

Hawks slowly blinked his eyes open, and immediately was hit with a wave of pain and disgust. He wished he spent more time appreciating how easy it was to breath through his nose back when he had the ability too.

The winged hero groaned as he sat up, spine cracking in several places. He was only in his early twenties but felt so old right now. He tossed a couple pills from the medicine bottle into his mouth then grabbed the water next to it and chugged, ignoring the slight discomfort on his throat from swallowing.

When he finished he stood up and headed to the kitchen to get more water, sniffling every few seconds. He pulled open the fridge door, grabbed the pitcher from the shelf, filled his glass, and put it back.

When he closed the door, he did a double take at the exterior.

Hawks had a whiteboard on the fridge for his grocery list, but a neat handwriting that definitely wasn't his had marked it.

You fell asleep, so I made sure the dishes and empty bottles were cleaned up before leaving. As I said before, you can repay me by getting better soon! :) -Todoroki Fuyumi

The winged hero must've reread the words at least five times now, face getting warmer with each time.

The first real smile he's had since getting sick spread on his face as he read the message a sixth time. “Well...I guess being sick hasn't been too bad. I really hope Todoroki-san is the one to drop by tomorrow too.”

#fuyumi x hawks #huwumi #rating: g #sickfic #fluffy very mild hurt/comfort

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bang-tan-bros · 7 years ago

Text

Of Yellow Acacias and Blue Violets

Pairing: Min Yoongi/Kim Seokjin

Summary: Based on the prompt: Person A owns a flower shop and person B comes storming in one day and says “How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flower?”

AN: This can be read on my ao3 here if you’d prefer!

Jin heard the familiar bell attached to the door ring, alerting him that someone had entered the store.

“Just a second, I’ll be there soon!” he called out, quickly watering the last of the plants in the back of the store and giving a hurried pat to his favorite, a succulent he’d fondly named Mario, before walking to the front of the store, wiping his hands on his green apron.

“Welcome to Thistle Do Nicely, how can I help?” he asked with the polite smile he always used with customers, the ones that usually got girls (and the occasional boy) to stutter as they mumbled whatever flower they wanted to buy. Jin had an unofficial policy to never date his customers though, mostly because a large majority of the people who entered wanted to get flowers for their significant other and he’d never, ever even consider cheating.

The guy was quiet for a second as Jin arranged the flowers laying on vases at the receptionist desk. He had to remind Jungkook, the kid who occasionally worked here, to water them more often. They were looking a bit wilted.

“How do you passively aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flowers?” the guy in front of him finally blurted out. Jin’s hands stilled and he looked up, scrutinizing the stranger properly for the first time.

He first realized the other was rather short. Then he realized he was pretty adorable, despite the scowl on his face, and kind of felt like breaking his policy for him.

The guy had mint green hair that constransted oddly with the plants around him, squinting eyes that were looking everywhere but Jin as though embarrassed, was wearing completely black clothes that suited him oddly well, and, of course, had a frown seemingly etched onto his face. Jin cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked. He’d gotten odd requests before, sure, but never like this. The guy in front of him flushed slightly, the tips of his ears turning red. Cute, Jin thought absentmindedly.

“I want to get flowers that passively aggressively say ‘fuck you’ to the person I give them to,” the stranger continued determinedly, his lips pressed in a thin line. “You do make bouquets that have special meanings and stuff, right?”

“Yeah, but the meanings are usually to do with love or something,” Jin chuckled. “But sure, let’s see what can be done.” The stranger’s face changed to one of surprise for a second, before returning back to his frown. Jin found he looked even more attractive without a sullen expression on his face, and resolved to try and see him with a happy expression as soon as possible.

“Okay, Balsams to represent impatience, and how about Bellworts to represent hopelessness?” he turned to ask the stranger, who was trailing after him as he scrambled around, plucking different flowers from around the store.

“That’s great,” the stranger nodded. “Wow, I never knew flowers had such diverse meanings.” Jin beamed at him, glad he was getting the other was opening up a bit more.

“They’re only there to look pretty. If people knew the meanings, I’m pretty sure there would be a lot more recently single tearful teengars in my store right now.” The stranger snorted at that, but Jin was sure he could make out a semblance of a smile on his face, and his heart soared.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who is this bouquet for?” he asked curiously. He’d wanted to know since he’d heard the request. The stranger (Jin should really come up with a better nickname or, preferably, find out his name soon) stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“It’s for my roommate. He broke my headphones. For the third time. In this month alone.” Jin couldn’t help but laugh at the pained look that had appeared in the stranger’s eyes, the sound loud and high-pitched. The stranger flushed and looked away and Jin felt a bit bad. He didn’t want the other to think he was laughing at him.

“Are you sure he’ll know what you mean by the bouquet? What if he thinks it’s a peace offering?” he asked, trying to salvage the conversation.

“He’s pretty brainy,” the stranger said slowly. “He’ll probably suspect me of ulterior motives.”

“For good reason,” Jin pointed out and was rewarded with the stranger’s frown lightening.

“True.”

Jin worked in silence for a few minutes, dancing around the store to pluck flowers with rather hilarious meanings.

“And last bud not least, foxgloves for insincerity!” he said, then immediately dissolved into laughter at his own joke.

“What?” he asked, seeing the incredulous look that had appeared on the stranger’s face. “I’m only pollening your leg.” He started giggling again, and was proud at how the corners of the stranger’s lips turned up slightly at the corner before he rolled his eyes and scoffed.

Jin gathered the flowers together and wrapped them in the prettiest paper he own, adding a fancy ribbon just so the whole thing would seem even more passive aggressive once the poor guy it was for found out the meaning (and maybe, just a little bit, because he really liked the stranger and doing a good job wouldn’t hurt his chances with him, right?).

“Well, here it is,” he said once he was done. The bouquet looked good, but he couldn’t help snickering every time he looked at it, knowing the meanings as he did. He presented it to the stranger. “Take it or leaf it.”

“I’m suddenly feeling the urge to go with the latter option.” the stranger muttered. “But thanks.”

He started paying the money.

“Wait, what’s your name?” Jin asked. The stranger looked up suspiciously. “For identification,” Jin explained, though that wasn’t entirely true. Okay, sue him. He was allowed to be unprofessional just once, right?

“It’s Yoongi,” the stranger, no, Yoongi, said. “But everyone calls me Suga.”

“Awww, as sweet as the person who has the name!” Jin cooed and watched with amazement and fascination as Yoongi’s face slowly turned red. “I’ll stick with Yoongi, though, if you don’t mind. And my name is Jin.” Yoongi gave a noncommittal shrug, though the effect of it was ruined as his face was still a color that rivaled the roses Jin had nearby.

“Well, this has been a fruitful discussion, but I think I’ll go now. I’ll be back if I need to get flowers for anybudy else.” Yoongi said. Jin stared at him in shock, trying to process all those simply brilliant puns, before being startled by an even more incredible sight: Yoongi’s lips parted into a small gummy smile before he smirked at Jin’s expression and left the store with his bouquet jauntily as Jin stood frozen behind him, just a little bit in love.

Now, Jin thought he knew what beauty was. His entire job was caring for delicate, pretty plants and flowers and he owned a mirror obviously, so he thought he’d experienced all the beauty the world had to offer, but he was wrong. Oh, how wrong he’d been.

He couldn’t stop thinking of Yoongi. He wished he could talk to the other, maybe strike up a casual conversation on how the roommate bouquet situation went, but he knew that would likely never happen and they’d never meet again.

Which is why he was so surprised when Yoongi showed up at his store a week later, looking around awkwardly as though not sure he belonged there.

“Need help with anything, Yoongi?” Jin asked gently and Yoongi jumped.

“Oh.” he said. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did,” Jin replied. Yoongi seemed to brighten a bit at that. “It’s not everyday someone asks you for a passive aggressive bouquet.” Jin studied Yoongi’s face to see it had fallen a bit before he quickly became composed again.

“Right.” Yoongi muttered before clearing his throat. “Anyway, I’d to get the prettiest flower you own, please.” Jin nodded, trying to school his expression. That was probably for a boyfriend or girlfriend. He should have known Yoongi wouldn’t be single.

“Sure,” he said, trying to keep his voice emotionless. “Right this way.”

He showed Yoongi the roses first, as they were the most popular for dates and the like, but Yoongi shook his head.

“I’m sure there’s a flower prettier than that.” Jin agreed, realizing not everyone had the same taste, but Yoongi said the same thing about the next flower Jin showed him. And the one after that. And the one after that. Jin finally threw his hands up, exasperated.

“You show me which flower you want then!” he said. Yoongi stared at him and silently gestured at him.

Jin stared back at him, hoping Yoongi meant what he hoped he meant.

“You, um,” Yoongi blushed and Jin would have cooed out loud at the sight had he not been holding his breath in anticipation. “You want to go out with me?” Jin broke out into a wide smile.

“Well, you’ve put me in a bit of an orchid position, but floral intents and purposes, that sounds great.” Jin grinned. They stared at each other, both blushing and smiling at each other before Jin broke the silence.

“I’m glad I’m a gardener cause it means I can put our two-lips together.” Yoongi tried to suppress his grin (and failed miserably), shaking his head disparagingly.

“You’re such a dork,” he mourned as Jin laughed. “But I wish I were a gardener.”

“Why?” Jin asked.

“Cause you’d be my hoe,” Yoongi smirked, which changed to an expression of outrage as Jin hit him. “Ow!”

“That’s what you deserve,” Jin reprimanded, though he couldn’t stop smiling at the idiot, emo, adorable guy he was already falling for. “But yes. I’d love to go out with you, you idiot.” Yoongi stared at him with narrowed eyes.

“I’d be mad at that, but I’m not for one reason,” he replied.

“And why’s that?” Jin asked expectantly. Yoongi blessed him with another smile and Jin knew it was the most miraculous sight he’d ever see in his life.

“Because I’m your idiot.”

#jin #suga #yoonjin #sugajin #jin x yoongi #yoongi x jin #kim seokjin #min yoongi #sugajin fic #bts #mod gold

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