#not a drill writer's block may have ended!

[cappymightwrite]

Can anyone reccommend any good Jonsa vids that don't really feature/reference the R*msay s5 storyline, please? Or at least keep it to a minimum? But crucially, I just find the wedding and aftermath etc. very upsetting, and it's why I'll never write show canon!

I'm just trying to reimmerse myself in the Jonsa mindset atm because... I've suddenly had a burst of writing inspiration! I was really struggling with the starting point scene of chapter 3 of My Maid of Stone, the scene that, in my writing process, everything else unfolds from... but... I think I've finally found it. So thank you for the lovely response to my last post — I think it contributed!

Anyway, though I'd like to branch out, my go-to Jonsa vids are:

So if anyone has any good recs, I'd love to hear them!

Cappy x

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 5 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

i have successfully kicked my writer's block to the curb and am ready to pick back up on plug!eren!!!! woohoo!! this is the part of the story where it gets really plot heavy and there's a lot of moving parts, so it's been a fun exercise to write and brainstorm. if anything is confusing or u have any theories/questions PLEASE hit my inbox i'm so down bad for plug eren i could talk about him for days.

get ready to meet a new character who is......not the best lol. this is also the first chapter written in eren's pov :o things are about to get interesting!

still haven't caught up? series masterlist HERE <3

specific cws: mentions of smut but nothing outright, alcohol use, swearing, u know the drill

-

“If music be the food of love, play on. / Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken and so die.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

Eren is, admittedly, a romantic person, especially given his occupation. Not romantic in the cheesy, buying-flowers and kissing-in-the-rain sense, but he appreciates the little details of life. He loves autumn, when the leaves catch on fire with the changing of the season. He loves the little crook of a woman’s neck, that slope where it goes from tendon to shoulder to collarbone. He can appreciate a good bourbon; after years of raiding his dad’s stash, he developed a palate for it early on. Eren’s romantic nature leads him to believe in signs. When the universe tells him something, he listens.

The text still sat in his inbox unopened, marinating in its own bizarre, heartbreaking nature.

> heyyyy lover boy! i’m back from austria! missed u, let’s catch up ;)

Eren knows that Breeze knows him, knows him well enough to understand that his three-week radio silence isn’t a no, it’s a maybe. He hates himself for not immediately texting her back and telling her to fuck off, but after his conversation with you, he thinks it might be the universe telling him it’s safe this time, that he won’t end up a shell of himself. Maybe.

You had been firm in your assertion that you and Eren were better off as friends, and as much as he wanted to fight it, Eren respects women. As much as he can when he’s prone to wrenching their jaws open and spitting in their mouths while he’s balls deep inside them, at least. He’s disappointed, but he respects it, and if he’s honest, he likes you.

He likes your sharp humor, likes the way you tend to keep your hair up off of your neck, likes the way your eyes light up when someone gives you an excuse to talk about your studies. He hasn’t been “just friends” with a woman in a long time, but it’s refreshing, an excuse to go grab a coffee and shoot the shit like a normal person instead of lurking in the corner of a frat party handing out pills like a perverse ice cream truck.

The last three weeks of “friends” have been the best Eren’s had in a long time. You’re easy, that’s what he likes about you. He can drop the cold mask he wears so often, giggle over a stupid meme, listen intently as you prattle on about some long-dead 18th-century author that was “so ahead of her time!”, smirk when you chastise him for doodling little hearts and flowers all over your coursework.

Sure, he still steals a glance down your shirt when he can, and he’d never admit it, but he thinks about you late at night. He thinks about you when he’s in the shower, when he’s got himself in his hand, panting and swearing under his breath, but he manages to feel enough guilt over it to still consider you a friend. You’re caring and considerate and easy, wholesome fun, unlike someone that’s made a sudden reappearance into his life.

After that first night, just when he was starting to entertain the thought of promoting you from one night stand to official fuck buddy, the closest thing to commitment Eren allows himself to maintain these days, Breeze swept back into his life, and you hit the brakes on him. While it may not have been the sign he wanted to receive, Eren’s a romantic, and he listens to the universe, especially when it goes so far out of its way to tell him something.

He’s decided to let Breeze stew for a little while longer. Campus will be clearing out for Thanksgiving break soon, along with most of his business, and he’s going to wait until his hands are empty of work and you before answering her. Plus, she had flitted off to Europe after college like their entire relationship had been nothing more than a passing phase; Eren’s owed at least a little bit of pettiness, right?

> paradise ath 1130! see uthere ;)

Eren snorts at your text. Being as uptight as you are about grammar (you’re constantly hounding him about his texting style, and he’s been making them even more incorrect just to hear you berate him), he knows you’re not just texting quickly, you’re drunk.

“Yo, ‘min!” Eren calls into the kitchen, an excited flutter already rising in his chest beneath his hoodie.

“Yeah?” Armin’s head pops around the doorframe, a dab of ketchup on the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna go to Paradise later?”

“The club?” Armin’s nose wrinkles. Connie’s head appears right beside Armin, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Connie answers for both of them before Armin has the chance to shoot the idea down, “who’s going?”

“Like you don’t know the answer to that,” Armin scoffs, ducking back into the kitchen with a roll of his eyes.

“I never took her for a ‘club’ type of girl,” Connie adds air-quotes to emphasize his confusion.

Eren mulls that over for a moment; he doesn’t really take you for a club type of girl either, but from the sound of it, Historia and Sasha have already done the job of getting you good and drunk and talking you into a night on the town. Eren’s always wanted to see what you’re like when you’re well and truly fucked up; every time you indulge him with a story from college, he ends up laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

Supposedly, when you go all out, you drop the mom-friend act and become a little less tame; is this Eren’s opportunity to get an eyeful for himself? He’s not waiting around to find out.

Eren shrugs. “Come help me make these runs and we’ll go. Armin, you’re driving.”

The drop-offs are uneventful, and as soon as Eren steps foot inside the club, his nose scrunches with distaste. Ironically, he’s never been into the partying scene, much preferring a quiet beer at Scout’s or a blunt on the couch to a club. The music’s horribly loud, bass thudding through the fabric of his hoodie and beating against his chest, and as he looks for you, he can barely see through the mass of bodies and the fog machines. You’re here? It’s difficult for Eren to imagine you, in your favorite flannel and those cute little Vans he likes, tucked against the bar throwing back your signature craft beer. As Connie urges him and Armin in the direction of the bar, calling for green tea shots, Eren nearly regrets his decision, until fingernails dig into his shoulder, spinning him on his heels.

“Hey, you.”

Eren blinks stupidly as you grin up at him through thick, black lashes. He’s never even dared to imagine you like you are now, piercing eyes gazing up at him through a heavy dusting of makeup and the shortest, tightest dress Eren’s ever seen hugging every inch of your curves. You look sinful in a way he’s never seen you before, not even when he was holding you tight to him and wrenching out orgasm after orgasm from your body. He gulps.

“Holy shit– hey,” he lets you pull him in for an overexcited hug, bites down on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the bulge already swelling in his pants.

“I missed you!” You pinch his cheeks, much to Eren’s dismay.

“Just saw you yesterday– quit pinchin’ me. What are you even doing here? Didn’t think this was your scene.” Eren has to actively keep his eyes trained on your face; there’s a little bead of sweat traveling down the expanse of skin between your breasts that’s making his mouth water. Friends, he scoffs in his mind. Are you trying to kill him?

“Well, it’s not, but Sasha says I need to be more fun, and Stor says I need to find a boyfriend.” You gesture around like it’s obvious. Eren cocks an eyebrow, ignoring the inappropriate envy that twists in his stomach at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.

Boyfriends never like the guy friends, it’s practically a law of nature. If you’re dating around, it’s only a matter of time before some square in a button-down steals you away from your coffee dates and movie nights with Eren, but he can’t get too caught up in that now, not when you’re looking up at him all dizzy and sexy and bursting at the seams.

“Don’t know if this is the place for that.”

“That’s what I said!” Oh, you’re drunk drunk, all of your movements overexaggerated and shaky. It makes him want to laugh seeing you like this; his little book nerd, trashed and mere inches away from having her ass out at a club. Well, either laugh or drag you into the bathroom to bend you over the sink. He can’t be sure.

“Hey mama!” Connie shouts over at you, handing you a shot. Eren has half a mind to snatch it out of his hand after catching the slurring in your voice, but he’s too late; you throw it back without so much as a shudder, grinning all wide and wet and pretty when you swallow.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you tell him, pulling him down by his collar so you can speak into his ear. Eren has to bite back a groan at the feel of your hot lips against his ear. Friends, he reminds himself urgently, pushing you back from him but keeping his hands firm on your hips, relishing in the way your flesh gives under his grip.

“You know the rules. You call, I come.”

“That’s what she said,” you snicker, pinching his cheek again.

“Cut that out!”

“Make me.” Oh fuck, Eren’s going to die. He’s going to die if you keep looking at him like that, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and fuck-me eyes on him.

“You’re not being very friendly,” he manages to choke out, trying his hardest to give you a suspicious look through the dizzying wave of images that flash through his brain. You with your mouth full of him. You spread out on his bed, back arched and fingers twisted in his hair. The little “o” your mouth made when you rode him for the first time. Eren wants to smack himself, jump in a cold shower, something. Get a grip, dude.

“Maybe not,” you shrug, eyes darting over to the bar. “Hurry up and grab a drink, I wanna dance.”

“Not much of a dancer,” Eren admits, taking the beer that Connie hands him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.”

Eren isn’t sure if he likes or loves the sound of that, powerless against that stupid little dress you’ve got on as you drag him behind you to the mass of bodies he had so disdainfully eyed on his way in. He’s greeted by a loud round of shrieking, one more pinch to the cheek by Historia and a slap on the ass from Sasha. You make a show of teasing him for how pink his face gets, but luckily, your friends are instantly distracted by Armin and Connie’s arrival right behind him. You pull him back down, glossy lips pressed right against his ear.

“I really like this song.” You’re barely audible over the pounding music, but even if Eren hadn’t heard what you said, he’d get the gist from the way you grind against his thigh, slow and sensual. Maybe you are actually trying to kill him.

“Yeah?” He’s breathless, irreparably and embarrassingly caught in the little web you’ve woven.

“Yeah.” You’re moving harder against him now, throwing your arms around his neck and grinding your hips into his. Eren’s only thought is to let his hands fly back to your hips, let you use him like a stripper pole to show off.

He can feel eyes on him, not the eyes of friends, but of other men around him, wondering who the lucky asshole is that’s getting the royal treatment from a girl as hot as you. If he were to be truthful, it’s getting him off, how every eye is on you and, by proxy, him, holding you like a lifeline as you let the beat rock through your body.

So this, this is the party girl you claim to have living deep inside you. This seductive, electric creature moving tantalizing against his body, this is the source of the stories Historia tells him that make you blush? How you could ever be embarrassed of this is beyond him; you’re like a little devil, sent straight from hell just to torture him, and Eren’s mouth is watering.

Song after song goes by, and you don’t let up, don’t let him catch his breath for a moment, moving from facing him to pressing your ass into his crotch and then back again, arms above your head or wrapped around his neck. Eren wishes he was mentally sound enough at the moment to feel ashamed that you can absolutely feel how hard he is through his pants right now, but he’s drunk on you, letting you press into him so insistently he has to tug your dress down for you, letting you drive him so crazy that he’s grateful for the loud music now. He’d die if Connie or Armin could hear the way he’s grunting and groaning low under his breath, powerless underneath you.

Suddenly, as if you haven’t just been riling him up for the last half hour, you back away enough to face him, shaking your empty cup and him and mouthing something that Eren’s still too dizzy to make out.

“Huh?”

“Get me another drink!” you shout over the bass, laughing at him.

Eren nods stupidly, darting away from you before he can grab your jaw, pull your lips to his like he so desperately wants to. Finally out of the throng of bodies, he can feel his head clearing, some semblance of sanity crashing over him. What the fuck has gotten into him? It was just one night, and you’ve kept him at arm’s length ever since, only seeing each other under the guise of coffee, or a beer, or Eren insisting you need to continue your education in the wonders of horror films. You’re drunk, that’s the only explanation; drunk and teasing him like you aren’t going to wake up and throw him right back into the friendzone. He rests both elbows on the bar, shaking his head like he’ll be able to knock some sense into himself if he rattles his brain around a little.

Eren orders your vodka soda and a beer and a shot for himself, something to clear his head and keep his blood pressure manageable. Hopefully, at least.

When he turns around, drinks in hand, that plan flies out the door. There you are, center of the dance floor, hands above your head and hips moving like you’re intentionally trying to make him lose his fucking mind. He tilts his head in interest when a man approaches you, grazes his hands over your hips like he means to start grinding against you. Eren can feel his own hands tightening around the bottle and the plastic cup in his hand, but he holds himself back; he’s got no claim on you, and if you’re willing to entertain the man (who, if you ask Eren, is way below your standards), who is Eren to stop you?

You surprise him in the best way: when the man touches you lightly, you whip around, brows furrowed and a little glitter in your eyes so mean that even Eren nearly flinches. He can’t read your lips in the low light, but he snorts to himself anyway as the man puts his hands up and backs away from you, eyes wide. As if nothing had happened, you spin back on your heel, facing a cackling Sasha with a shrug.

Eren feels a wide, proud smile blooming on his face. As much as he feels an unwarranted protectiveness towards you, he likes watching you get your teeth out and stand up for yourself. Before he can make his way back over to tease you, a voice from his left makes his blood run cold.

“Rennie?!”

Two thin arms are tossed around his neck before Eren can even respond, the familiar scent of vanilla and coconut enveloping him.

“Breeze?” Eren chokes out, too shocked to keep his composure. She pulls away from him and grins, a little diamond glittering from her right canine tooth.

“You didn’t text me back, you tease,” she swats at his chest, snags the vodka soda he’d bought for you right out of his hand, taking a sip. Eren takes the opportunity to swallow hard around the lump in his throat, one last tentative glance towards you before he turns his gaze back to Breeze.

She’s cut her hair, something short and choppy that swings around her ears, and fuck, she’s still just as pretty as he remembers, little freckles on her button nose visible in the darkness of the club.

“Didn’t think you wanted to see me,” Eren shrugs, forcing his face to remain schooled into one of cold apathy. She had left him, like he was nothing to her. He hates her, he realizes, god, he hates her so much it burns in his veins. Breeze cocks her head, frowning.

“Why would you think that?”

“You fucking left me, Breeze, don’t be stupid,” Eren makes a move to steal the drink back from her, but she holds it close enough to her chest that he’d have to practically grope her to take it, and his fingers recoil at the realization.

“Are you double-fisting, or did you buy this for someone special?” She teases, brushing right over Eren’s bristly demeanor. When he doesn’t answer, she raises her eyebrows. “It’s for someone. Well, point her out! Is she cute?”

Breeze turns on her heel, standing on her tiptoes to glance through the crowd. Before he can stop himself, Eren’s grabbing her upper arm, spinning her back to face him with anger blazing in his eyes. When he meets her gaze, her baby blues are alight with mischief, and he knows that no matter which direction he moves, he’s losing whatever little game she has him trapped in. That was the thing about Breeze; Eren was always losing her games.

“Fuck, just…just stop it, Breeze. What are you even doing here?”

“I’m back in town, didn’t you see my text?” Breeze shrugs innocently, sipping your drink.

“Okay, well, welcome back,” Eren deadpans, leaving her question hanging in the air between them. He turns back to the bar to order another cocktail for you, having given up hope of getting the first one back from Breeze, but she’s relentless, has always been that way. She slides up to the bar beside him, smiling demurely up at him.

“I missed you, you know.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes. Breeze flinches, but Eren knows her better than that. It’s all an act, it always is.

“I never realized how much I hurt you,” her fingers grazing over his cheek nearly burn with how cold they are in contrast to the heavy, thick air around them, “‘m sorry, Rennie.”

“It’s fine.” Eren hates the way he twitches and nearly leans into her touch when she swipes her fingers over him. How many times has he thought about this, seeing her again after all these years? Everything he’s planned out, everything he’s ever wanted to say is lodged in his throat, a jumble of letters and words so squished out of order that they no longer hold meaning. He doesn’t love her, not anymore, but his body reacts before his brain can stop it, a conditioned response.

“Can we talk about it soon? Maybe over coffee?” Blue eyes blinking up at him earnestly.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Breeze,” Eren rolls his eyes, swallowing thick around the knot in his throat.

“There is,” she insists, “I brought this amazing espresso blend back with me from Florence, and–”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone for tonight?” Eren can feel the exasperation in his tone, can feel the weight of his mistake weighing on his shoulders. It’s fine, he tells himself, he’ll make up some excuse and get out of it. A long conversation with Breeze about their breakup is the last thing he needs.

“Maybe,” Breeze tucks her lip in between her teeth, a little smile playing at the corner of her mouth, “unless you change your mind.”

“We can talk or whatever another time, but I’m going back to my friends, okay? Go find yours.”

“You’re my friend,” Breeze purrs, one hand stroking over Eren’s bicep, “and I haven’ seen you int–”

“Don’t push it,” Eren nearly growls, scowling down at her. He knows half of the hatred buzzing through his veins is reserved for himself, but he’ll unpack that at home with a blunt, not in the middle of the club with you waiting for him on the dance floor and Breeze staring up at him hungrily.

“Always wound so tight,” Breeze hums, reaching a hand up to squish his cheeks, “but fine. I’ll see you soon.”

She miraculously leaves him there with nothing but a wink, taking your vodka soda with her; Eren’s shoulders slump in relief. Knowing Breeze, it was a wonder she hadn’t tackled him right there. When he turns around for the second time, two drinks in hand, you’re already staring at him. Shit.

You don’t look mad– and why would you be? You’re friends, Eren reminds himself. There’s no reason for you to know who Breeze is; he’s never told you about her, and he never planned on doing so. Eren knows Historia, though, well enough to believe that she told you everything from the godforsaken moment he walked into your apartment that day. 

He doesn’t like that look you’ve got, though; again, not mad, but he can see the gears turning behind your eyes. Eren has to practically force himself to walk towards you. Your head’s cocked in confusion, something watery and hesitant glimmering in your eyes through the low lighting. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you almost look hurt, but that wouldn’t be fair, would it? You didn’t want him, you had made that abundantly clear.

“Sorry it took me a while. Long line.” Eren hands you your drink, nearly wincing at how naturally the clearly false statement rolls off his tongue.

“Mhm,” you nod, downing nearly half of your drink in one long slurp. Your movements aren’t fluid and dynamic anymore; you’re stiff as a board, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet along to the beat of the song. “I…I actually have to pee, do you mind holding this?”

“Now?” Eren blinks, confused. “I just got your drink.”

You offer him a tight smile. “I wanted to wait ‘til you were back, so you could watch my drink. And so you didn’t think I ran off on you or something.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead.”

He watches you slink away into the crowd, watches the dozens of eyes follow you, surely wondering what happened to the little firecracker in the middle of the dance floor. Eren knows you get like this sometimes, suddenly pensive and nostalgic, knows that per your own admission, you like to handle it yourself. He hadn’t done this to you, had he?

A firm pinch to his cheek distracts him, pulls him down a foot below his normal standing height. Could everyone just stop pinching his fucking face? “Shit, ow!”

“Was that Breeze?” Historia yells directly into his ear. Eren, six-foot-something of hell on wheels, blushes furiously.

“Dude, was that fucking Breeze, or am I too fucked up?” Connie echoes Historia’s sentiment from over her shoulder, eyes comically wide. Armin’s peering around him, eyes flitting back and forth between Eren, Connie, and Historia as he tries to understand what’s happened.

“Who cares?” Eren snaps at Connie. Historia’s grip on his face loosens, releases entirely. If Eren didn’t like the look that you had given him, he hates the look Historia’s shooting at him right now. All daggers and disappointment. She turns on her heel without another word, making a beeline for the bathroom and dragging Sasha along behind her. Eren doesn’t miss Armin’s eyes either; stripping him to the bone without saying a word.

“Quit looking at me like that,” Eren scoffs, waves a hand in Armin’s direction.

“When did Breeze get back into town?” Armin shouts over the music.

“A few weeks ago,” Eren admits, avoiding Armin’s eyes and looking for a spot at the bar where he can escape the heavy gazes of his friends, run away to drown this conversation in a shot of whiskey.

“Did you–”

“I don’t know, man, you know how she is. She just showed up.” Eren knows he’s being unnecessarily gruff, but in his defense, the last hour or so has been a whirlwind of memory and emotion and lust that he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

Armin nods simply, takes a sip of his beer. Eren’s known Armin since they were kids, and he knows Armin can read him like a book. If he had a little less pride, Eren would pull Armin to the side and ask if he can make any sense of what’s going through Eren’s head right now because Eren sure as hell can’t. There’s you, with your skimpy dress and your flirty eyes, grinding on him like you’re going to take him home and fuck him stupid again, like you hadn’t demanded an honest-to-god friendship that Eren happens to very much enjoy. On the other hand, there’s Breeze, flighty and just as much of a ghost as she is a real person, popping back into his life and batting her blue eyes at him like she’d never left.

You’re his friend, and Breeze is his terrible ex. There shouldn’t be a choice here– there isn’t, it’s just the way things are, but Eren feels stuck at a crossroads for some reason.

He finally gets fed up with the music and the bumping of bodies around him and storms off to the bar again, biting back the urge to snap at Connie and Armin who he knows are hot on his heels. Eren’s just looked up from the shot of whiskey burning its way down his throat, acknowledging the dizziness that’s come with his drinks for the night, when he spots you.

You don’t look angry, that’s a small mercy you unwittingly grant him, but you’re cowering. Historia, even being shorter than you, is practically pinning you to the wall outside of the bathroom, shouting at you with her finger in your face. Sasha doesn’t look all too pleased either, arms crossed and a deep scowl written into her features. Eren gets a glimpse of your phone in Historia’s other hand that she’s waving around erratically, and wonders what the hell happens in women’s bathrooms. He’s not exactly sure what prompts it, but he checks his own phone. Nothing.

“Are they fighting?” Connie asks, nose scrunched as he peeks around Eren’s arm.

“Looks like it,” Armin nods, wincing as you try to make a grab for your phone from Historia, resulting in Sasha saving you at the last second from face-planting as Historia holds it out of your reach.

“Should we, like, do something?”

“Absolutely not,” Armin and Eren echo each other, looking at Connie as if he’d just suggested they all walk into oncoming traffic.

Eren watches as Historia grabs you by the wrist and drags you out of the bar, your feeble protests doing nothing to stop her insistent steps. Sasha follows both of you, gently pushing you along by the small of your back and shooting a regretful glance at Connie, mouthing a sorry as you all make your exit. It’s hardly been five minutes before Eren’s phone buzzes.

> had to leave. do you mind paying our tab if i venmo you? it’s under reiss.

Eren bites the inside of his cheek again, not worrying in the slightest about covering the tab, but more so the reason for your abrupt exit.

> yeah i got u everything ok?

> thanks a ton! see u next time.

It’s purposefully avoidant, especially coming from Historia, who never misses a chance to make fun of you good-naturedly. If you had been sick in the bathroom or far too drunk to stay, she would have come out and said it. Eren throws his card down, going to pay the hefty tab you and your friends racked up, but not daring to pay his own. After all of the shit that’s just gone down, he owes himself at least one more drink.

Once he’s signed, he pulls out his phone again, thumb hovering over your text thread, then Breeze’s, then yours again. Mindful of Armin’s prying eye over his shoulder, Eren sighs heftily and shuts his phone off, leaning in to order another shot. The following morning’s approaching quickly, whether he wants it to or not, and he’ll save his fucked-up emotions for the daylight.

[archer-fb]

Bratty Tengen my beloved. How about some more punishment for him? "Ah! F-fuck..." Tengen let out a cry as he was struck with the crop again, the sound hashira having, yet again, defied the simple orders you gave him. His cock was hard, and oozing with pre, aching to be touched. "How many was that, Uzui?" You asked coldly, weaponizing his last name. He wasn't supposed to enjoy this, so you decided to not simply degrade him like normal. He'd enjoy it too much. "I-I lost count. 'M'sorry, I-" Smack! "Ah!" "You stupid slut. Start again. Count out ten." You hissed, venom lacing your voice. "This has been the third time you've lost count. We're not even halfway through this punishment. When I'm done with you, you'll be nothing but a fucking cock hungry whore!" Tengen moaned at the notion, his cock twitching with need. He cried out again. "O-One!" He rasped out before he was struck again, a loud cry of your name leaving him. Your thigh felt wet. "Did you just cum?" You asked, glaring at the silver haired man, teary magenta eyes returning your gaze as he panted. "I-I'm sorry, 'm so sorry, d-did- didn't mean to- SHIT!" Tengen nearly screamed feeling his ass being struck by your palm this time. A whine leaving his chest afterwards as he began to shake slightly, struggling to keep himself propped up across your lap. "I can't get anything drilled into you, can I? You little brat. Fucking masochistic slut, get on your fucking knees, you're not leaving this room until I say you can, got that?" "Y-Yes, master..." Tengen spoke, breathing ragged and cock hard as he got down in front of you, legs tucked under his reddened cheeks. He loved this treatment, you and him both knew this. You truly just indulge each other. "Do you remember the safeword?" You asked sweetly, looking at him, worried you may have overstepped. "Yeah, I do. We're good to keep going." He replied, voice hoarse, but laced with love. "Good." You hummed, standing over him and looking down at him as your eyes gained that darkened glare that sent chills down his spine. "Make your mouth more useful then." -🍶 P.S. Sorry I felt soft at the end.

ima continue this cause yes

"mmm such a good boy for me~ making your master feel so good. but are you ready to not be a brat? i don't think that was enough for mt fully forgive you..." you say to him.

"i-i'm sorry! I really am, please master. what can i do to have you forgive me? i'll do anything, please, please just forgive me!" he begs

"oh? anything you say? i think i have a few thing in mind, love~"

@glitchtricks94 you wanted me to tag you <3. but anon you just helped me get out of writers block

[the-cult-of-russo]

Just Beneath The Flames (Part 11)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: cursing, smut at some point probably lmao, zombie shit, typical canon violence. You know the drill.

A/N: I giveth and I taketh away lmaoooo Honestly, no fucking clue where this is going, I’m along for the ride just like you guys are. Settle in for some angst and shit.

You almost didn’t get this chapter today, I’ve literally only just finished writing it. I wound up with writer's block like a quarter of a way through and started to think the story was doomed. I got there in the end though looool I’m not sure if chap 12 will be up tomorrow though as I haven’t even started writing it yet and I have an appointment to have my bloods done tomorrow and I still feel like shit so… lmao

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You strolled around the perimeter, knife in hand as your eyes swept around diligently. It had been almost three weeks since you all moved into the oversized cabin and you’d all settled in nicely. The place was huge, the lower floor comprising of a massive living area, complete with large plush sofas and a big fireplace. The large kitchen was on the other side, the whole floor being open plan except for a couple of closets. The top two floors were bedrooms, each floor having a large bathroom. The Liebermans, Matt and Foggy had the rooms on the second floor while you were on the top floor along with Frank and Karen, Curtis and Billy. You hadn’t expected to share a room with Billy, especially after the disaster of the kiss you’d shared, but it still took some getting used to having your own room. You missed sharing a tent with him, the comfort it would bring you. But you knew even if you had to share a room here, there would be no comfort to be found. Not anymore. In the three weeks that passed, Billy had become more and more distant with you to the point he barely even spoke to you anymore. You’d accepted the fact he hadn’t actually wanted to kiss you, accepted the fact he’d used your feelings to get you to do what he wanted. None of that mattered in the grand scheme of things because the friendship you’d had with him, the bond you’d formed, it meant far more than any feelings you may have developed for him. But that bond seemed to not exist anymore and that hurt you more than anything. You’d hoped that once you all settled in, maybe he’d warm back up. Even if he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the kiss, you thought you’d eventually be able to speak to him again in a way that had you two back on good terms, but it hadn’t happened. You’d come back with the others and you’d all set up and with each passing day, he spoke to you less and less and you really couldn't figure out just what you’d done to deserve it.

It hadn’t escaped the others how he was behaving either. You’d seen the frown on Frank’s face when Billy would purposely brush you off if you tried to initiate some conversation with him, seen how he’d glare at Billy. You saw the curious looks from the others and the sad look on Karen’s face and you weren’t sure what to do with it. It made you feel isolated and lonely, just like the odd one out all over again. The others cared and they made an effort, especially Karen. She’d taken up your time with Billy’s absence, keeping you company and you loved her for it. Frank was also never too far away and always making sure you were okay and you’d even made a habit out of hunting with Matt and you enjoyed his company. But none of that compared to what you’d shared with Billy. He was their family first and you knew if he turned around tomorrow and said he wanted you gone because he was sick of looking at you, they’d have to let it happen. You hated feeling this alienated all over again. A week after being here, Karen and you had been in the kitchen cooking dinner with actual electricity which had been a trip and she’d told you not to let him get to you. That he was just dealing with a lot after the whole Rawlins thing. You’d allowed her words to comfort you, naive and stupid that was all it was. You’d let it because you’d seen him sometimes when he didn’t know you were looking, that lost faraway gaze he held like he didn’t know what to do with himself. You knew it wasn’t easy, even if he had finally gotten what he wanted. That was part of the problem. Because once it was done, there was an air of finality to it all, a feeling of being adrift at sea once the long-term goal had been reached. So you’d waited patiently, stupidly hoping that one day he’d flash you that smile of his and say something playful just like he used to, but he just pulled away further. You’d given up hope now, it was pointless. You didn’t think you were a coward. You’d faced a lot of shit head-on with this new way of life, but the idea of confronting him outright wasn’t something you could bring yourself to do. The only conclusion you could draw from his behavior was that he knew how you felt about him, used it to his advantage and then regretted it, worrying he’d given you false hope or something. And now he just felt awkward being around someone he knew liked him as more than a friend. You couldn't blame him entirely. You knew you’d feel just as awkward if it turned out Matt or Foggy liked you that way although you wouldn't be such a rude dick about it. This past week he’d gone from being distant to occasionally being rude and you’d gotten sick of it. You missed him, missed your friendship and the comfort it had brought you. 

You rubbed your eyes tiredly, watching as the sun came up. You’d been taking watch more and more lately, your nights plagued with nightmares and bad thoughts. People hadn’t caught on at first, not noticing you offering to switch your shift with others and they’d been so grateful for the rest they hadn’t questioned it. But now, a few weeks in, you saw their concerned gazes when they realized you’d been on watch all night and barely had any sleep after. Once the sun was fully up, you sheathed your knife and trudged your way back to the house. The place itself was pretty perfect and you and Frank had even been talking about hitting up a garden center soon to get some fences put up and see if they had any crops to plant. It would be your dream to get that all set up, be more self-reliant. You guys could really make this place a home, you just wished you didn’t feel so empty inside. As you got around to the front of the house, you saw Frank and Billy through a couple of trees as they stood by the truck parked on the side of the road. Billy glanced up, his eyes locked onto yours and it made you bristle and you looked away quickly. Part of you wanted to be petty because of his behavior recently, to not look away until you made him feel awkward, but you couldn't. Your embarrassment over knowing that he knew how you felt about him and about the kiss outweighed the pettiness you felt. Annoyance prickled at you though at the idea of him trying to steal your garden center run off you. You’d barely been going on runs since you got here. Frank had given you excuses at first, saying things like there wasn’t enough room in the truck or he needed you here to keep an eye out. You’d bought it the first few times but started to get suspicious when it happened every single fucking time. Your suspicions were founded though as you overheard Billy telling Frank one day that he wouldn't be going on a run if you were there. You realized then that Billy had been the reason you were now excluded from runs. You tried not to let it bother you as you busied yourself here with all there was to do setting the place up and you still had your hunting, but it stung. This run though was yours, it was your idea to go and look for crops, to be able to grow your own food. You’d brought the idea to Frank and like fuck you were letting Billy kick you out of it. 

“Y/N!” you heard Frank call out as you walked to the front porch. You turned around and he gestured with his head for you to come over. You felt your body tense tightly, much the same way Billy seemed to as he gave Frank an unimpressed look. You trudged over as you prepared yourself for what he was going to say. If he told you that you’d be staying back from the run, you’d end up resorting to violence. 

“What’s up?” you asked as you got to them, making a point to not even glance Billy’s way. Frank's eyes flit over your face in a way that made you stuff your hands into your pockets and shrink a little. 

“Karen said you took watch again last night,” he murmured, a concerned almost fatherly tone to his voice.

“Yeah?” you asked, looking confused as you shrugged at him. 

“I think it’s great you wanna help out and all but… but I think you need to take a break,” he frowned. 

“I can handle it, Frank,” you sighed.

“Of course you can,” Billy scoffed and your eyes snapped to him with such fire behind them he actually recoiled for a second. 

“Something you wanna say, Russo?” you asked scathingly and he once again looked taken aback by the harshness of your tone for less than a moment before his face hardened. 

“You’re gonna wind up getting us all killed,” he growled.

“Seriously?” you asked with an eye roll.

“You’ve been on watch every night for almost a week straight and you have an hour sleep at most after. What happens when your body gives out from exhaustion? What happens if you fall asleep when you’re supposed to be keepin’ us safe?” he asked roughly.

“Do you think I’m that stupid? Do you really think I’d do it if I didn’t think I could handle it, that I’d put everyone at risk?” you asked, offense coloring your face. Even if you wanted to escape your treacherous thoughts, you wouldn’t do it at the expense of your group's safety. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” despite his shitty attitude lately, you really hadn’t expected such malicious words to leave his lips and you felt white hot rage flow through you, your ears ringing. Before you knew what you were even doing, your knife was unsheathed, gripped in your hand as you took a menacing step towards him. Frank quickly got between you two, shaking his head.

“That’s enough, guys!” he chided with a deep frown. Your eyes hadn’t left Billy though and a slow and dark smirk spread across his face, he looked almost amused at you with your knife, something sinister shining behind his dark eyes. 

“You really think you can stand there and judge me for the shit I’ve done? For failing the people I cared about? Maybe you should take a long look in the mirror, Billy, ‘cause I’m not the only one that’s failed people,” you hissed viciously. His smirk melted right off his face, his eyes flashing dangerously as he stood up taller, but Frank put a hand on his chest, shoving him back roughly as he still stood between you. At the back of your mind, you felt a pang of guilt knowing the people you were referring to were the family of the very man who was currently trying to break up the fight between you. Frank either didn’t connect the dots or he didn’t bother to look into it. 

“I said enough!” he bellowed. He gave you a very unimpressed look before he turned and looked at Billy. You smirked inwardly, noticing the look he directed at his best friend was scathing, much worse than the one he’d given you. Billy’s eyes hardened, the two men glaring at each other for a moment and you had a feeling they were doing that thing again where they spoke without words. Either way, Billy scoffed and shook his head, giving you one last glower before he moved away, stomping to the trees. You noticed then he had his bow and arrows with him and in spite, you hoped he wouldn't find a damn thing when he went out there. 

Frank sighed deeply, his body relaxing once Billy was gone and you sheathed your knife roughly, still feeling anger at how Billy had treated you. You didn’t want to stick around and get a lecture from Frank about your attitude or about how you’d been taking watch too much so you turned on your heel and started walking to the house.

“What the hell happened with you two?” Frank asked, stopping you in your tracks.

“I don’t know, Frank. He’s your best friend, why don’t you ask him?” you asked sourly, turning to face him once more. He was frowning as he looked at you.

“I tried askin’ him. Tried ‘til I was blue in the goddamn face but he just says he don’t wanna talk about it, so I’m askin’ you,” he said pointedly, raising a brow and you clenched your jaw. You were a little surprised he hadn’t told Frank about the kiss or anything, figuring as his best friend, he probably would have. The only reason you hadn’t told Karen was because it was weird considering Billy had been her family way before you’d been in the picture, but you’d wanted to tell her just to get it off your chest.

“Before you guys hit Rawlins, he kissed me. He kissed me and then when you guys came back out, he was different,” you muttered. Frank blinked rapidly, confusion and shock all over his face as he glanced to where Billy had disappeared through the trees before back at you. It seemed like you rendered him speechless for a moment and you didn’t want to stand here and talk about the fact you’d been kissed by someone you cared about, only to end up treated like this.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on with him or why he’s being such an asshole, but keep him the hell away from me. If he tries to use my past against me like that again, you won't be around to stop my knife being buried in his neck,” you hissed, turning around and stomping over to the porch and up the steps. You knew it wasn’t true though. No matter how much he would hurt you, you knew you could never hurt him like that, not physically at least. And you’d feel bad for how you spoke to Frank later, knowing he was only trying to help. You were over it all. 

It was only as you got to the top of the porch stairs that you noticed Zach was sitting on the porch with a comic and he gave you a sad smile. You felt a bit shitty then behaving that way in front of him and you gave him a weak smile in return, feeling yourself deflate before you slipped inside. You ended up hiding out in your room for a while, not wanting to bump into Billy when he came back from hunting. After a few hours of you laying on your bed feeling sorry for yourself, your door knocked before Karen slipped inside, giving you a tentative smile. You smiled back, sitting up and leaning against the headboard as she moved inside and sat on your bed. 

“You should have told me that Billy kissed you,” she frowned, being blunt like she always was. You hadn’t expected her to come in here and talk about that, you’d figured she was just checking on you.

“Frank told you then,” you murmured, feeling the heat creeping into your cheeks.

“Of course he did. I feel awful, Y/N. All this time I’ve been making excuses for him and it turns out he kissed you, which just makes it even worse what he’s doing now,” she huffed, shaking her head. While it was slightly embarrassing she knew, you were partly grateful because now you could vent to her about it all. You’d been keeping it all locked inside and it had been killing you. 

“I just… I don’t get it. At first after he… and how he acted after… I just thought that he didn’t like me that way, that he kissed me just so I wouldn’t go near Rawlins. We both know what he’s like, he’s not above lying or manipulation to get what he wants. If he thinks he’s doing the right thing then it’s worth it to him. And the idea of him using my own feelings against me sucked but I got it, I wasn’t mad. When he started pulling away I figured I made him awkward. Like he saw me as a little sister or something and he knew how I felt now so he was uncomfortable. But now he’s just acting like an asshole and honestly, it doesn't matter how I feel about him, I don’t think I deserve that,” you frowned, hurt lacing your voice. She scooted closer to you, taking your hand that had been anxiously picking at a thread on your jeans.

“You don’t deserve that. I really don’t know what’s gotten into him. I didn’t know him before… before the Castles, but Frank told me he hadn’t been the same since what happened to them. And before the world fell, he didn’t really do relationships, he was a bit of a player. He finds it hard to let people in, to trust them. It took him a while to even accept Matt and Foggy. But with you… he just clicked with you and sometimes, it was like he trusted you just as much as he trusted Frank. It surprised all of us. I don’t… I don’t understand why he’s doing this now,” she muttered sadly. 

“I really thought we could try to get our friendship back on track. I thought that maybe if he warmed up a bit, I could show him I could hide my feelings and we could move past it all. But now… he knows I care about him yet he’s hurting me and I’m not gonna sit there and let him,” you sighed and Karen squeezed your hand.

“Maybe I could talk to him-” she started softly and you shook your head quickly.

“No. No, it’s too awkward. I’ll just stay out of his way and hopefully he’ll stay out of mine. Maybe he’ll stop being an asshole and we can go back to being strangers,” you muttered tensely. The idea made your chest ache but it would be better than whatever the fuck this was now. You hated him being so cruel to you like this and you knew it would only make things bad for everyone else in the group. You weren’t the type to sit there and let someone be rude to you, no matter who it was. You knew if he kept up with his bullshit, the pair of you were going to have some very bad fights and you didn’t want the others to have to put up with that, especially not the kids. You changed the subject after that, asking Karen what she was planning for dinner and luckily, she’d let you steer the talk away from Billy. After a while, she left but not before informing you that you wouldn’t be on watch tonight so you knew you were in for a rough night. Deciding not to dwell on it, you got off your ass and left your room since you had laundry duty. Karen had offered to do it for you so you could get some rest but you had politely declined. If you slept now there would be no way you’d sleep tonight. 

You went downstairs and grabbed the large basket that held all the dirty laundry in it, hauling it up before you left out of the back door in the kitchen. The creek that had been near your old camp ran through here too and wasn’t too far from the back of the cabin. You’d all decided it was best to clean the clothes there instead of using the water in the cabin as you didn’t want to push your luck with it. You had no idea if it would crap out on you eventually. When you got to the creek, you tried to let the sounds of nature soothe you as you got to work. You emptied the clothes from the basket, a bar of soap in the bottom of it. The air was cold but the water was colder and you tried to ignore how it bit into your hands as you started to wash the clothes, wetting them before getting them soapy and rinsing them again. It took what felt like forever and your hands were numb when you were done. You tossed the wet clothes back into the basket haphazardly before making your way to the side of the cabin where a makeshift clothesline hung between the trees. You got the clothes off it that had been drying since the last laundry shift, them taking longer to dry in the cold. You chucked them in a pile on a rock before you started to hang up the newly wet clothes and then you started to fold all the other dry clothes up neatly, sorting them into piles before putting them into the basket. You picked up the basket and started making your way around the front of the house, but as you got to the corner, you noticed Billy sitting on the porch steps. You quickly ducked back behind the corner before he saw you, rolling your eyes at your own cowardice to even face him. You felt too raw and you didn’t want to have to deal with him being cruel to you again. You heard the front door open and close and you hoped Billy had gone inside, but you were wrong.

“Hey, uncle Billy,” Zach murmured and it sounded like he sat beside Billy.

“Hey, little man,” Billy replied softly. You glanced to the other end of the house, deciding on just going around the back and through the kitchen. You had no desire to stay here and listen in. Well, you hadn’t until Zach said something that made your feet take root to the floor.

“Why are you so mean to Y/N?” he asked bluntly. Your hands tightened around the basket and you could just imagine the curious look on the boy's face. You hated that it had been something he’d noticed, hated the tension the group could see. Billy was silent for a long moment and you started to wonder if he would even answer him. You wouldn't lie and say you weren’t curious about his answer, wanting one yourself.

“It’s just… grown up stuff,” Billy replied tensely and you had to clamp your mouth closed as you almost scoffed at the cop out answer. 

“Grown up stuff?” Zach asked, he himself sounding like he knew it was a pile of shit.

“It’s complicated, alright?” Billy sighed.

“How is it complicated? You used to be close friends and now you’re just mean to her. She never smiles anymore and she's always just sad. Sometimes… sometimes she cries when she takes watch at night,” Zach murmured sadly and your head whipped to the side as if you’d be able to see through the building right to him. You felt shame burrow deep inside of you that he somehow knew about that and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. 

“What?” Billy asked slowly.

“Sometimes… I can’t sleep at night. So I sit by my window to look at the stars and… I’ve seen her sometimes… crying by the trees,” Zach answered quietly. You swallowed thickly, cursing yourself for being so stupid. Although in your defense, you’d hardly expected anyone to be able to see you. It hadn’t happened too often but sometimes the whole thing got too much for you. It hadn’t just been Billy to make you cry but it hadn’t really helped with all your already existing issues. Billy didn’t reply to that and you wondered what was going through his head. You hated the idea of him having more ammunition to throw at you at some point, the idea of him throwing this in your face would be humiliating. 

“I might not be a grown up and maybe I don’t get it ‘cause I’m a kid but… mom always tells me and Leo to be kind to people, that they have their own struggles. I don’t know why you and Y/N aren’t friends anymore but you might wanna be kinder to her. This new world is scary… you don’t know how long she’ll be around,” with those ominous parting words you didn't think a kid would be capable of, it sounded like he got up and went inside. You heard Billy blow out a breath and you frowned to yourself, forcing yourself to walk to the other end of the house to go through the back, not wanting Billy to catch you there. You’d thought the kids were doing okay but the way Zach spoke made you think he was becoming a little jaded and you hated it. 

You walked through the back door and surprisingly, Zach was already in the kitchen with Sarah and Karen who were getting started on dinner. You felt your cheeks flush at remembering his words and he came over to you, giving you a smile.

“Can I help?” he asked, glancing to the basket in your hands.

“It’s okay, I got it,” you said, a grateful smile on your face. He frowned a little though and you felt bad.

“Actually… you could take these up. These are for everyone on your floor,” you murmured as you got out the clothes that belonged to everyone on the second floor. He grinned then, looking happy to be useful and you wondered if he was starting to feel a little like a spare part here. If he was getting to the age where he wanted to start to feel useful and to be doing stuff to help out. He took the pile of clothes at the same time the front door opened. Your eyes flit over to see Billy come in but you looked away before he saw you, not wanting him to start anything. You could feel his eyes burning into you as Zach took the clothes before he trotted off up the stairs. 

“Dinner won’t be too long,” Sarah murmured, squeezing your arm as she smiled at you and you nodded.

“I’ll just finish up with these,” you replied. As you made your way to the stairs, Billy was now nowhere to be found so you mused he’d gone to his room. You went to the third floor, going into the rooms and placing people's clothes on their bed. The rule was that if they were in the room, you didn’t just walk in, but you knew everyone else was downstairs so it was fine. You went in and out of the rooms before all that was left was yours and Billy’s clothes. You decided to go and put yours away first, getting it out of the way. You walked into your room, setting the basket on the bed before you put your clothes away. You stared at the clothes in the basket left, a dull ache starting in your chest. One hand came up to the necklace still around your neck that you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to take off. It was comforting and painful all at the same time with it still on and your fingers toyed with the moon pendant for a second before you sighed and slipped it back under your top. You grabbed the basket with one hand, Billy’s clothes in the other. You knew he was in his room so you’d just leave them outside. You would have done anyway, not wanting to just walk into his room even if he wasn’t in there. Just as you got to his door, it opened and you blinked up at him as he looked mildly shocked to see you. Your jaw set then, your eyes averting his. A petty part of you wanted to toss his neatly folded clothes to his feet but you pushed it down, holding his clothes out to him without looking at him or saying a word.

“Thanks…” he murmured, his voice soft and quiet as he took them from you. Not wanting to stick around in case he decided to start being a dick again, you turned away and started walking down the hall. 

“Y/N,” his voice stopped you and you tensed, knuckles turning white with how hard you were clutching the basket. You turned around apprehensively and he was standing outside of his door. His eyes didn’t land on you, looking everywhere else instead as he stood there rigidly and rolled his shoulder.

“I uh…” his mouth floundered for a moment and stupid hopeful part of you wondered if he might apologize for how he’d been behaving after Zach’s words. That maybe it had shown him just how shitty he was being. 

“It… it doesn’t matter,” he muttered, his brows creasing a little. You shook your head, a bitter smile painting your lips before you turned away once more and made your way down the stairs. You should know better than to be hopeful about anything. You tried to ignore the stinging disappointment as you went and put the basket where it belongs in the kitchen before walking into the living area where everyone usually had dinner. There were three big sofas and two armchairs but it still wasn't room for everyone. The kids were in their usual spot on the plush fur rug by the fireplace as they ate, their parents on one of the sofas. Matt and Foggy were on another sofa and Curtis was sitting in an armchair. Karen was handing out food, Frank on the last sofa with a spot for her and for Billy and you took residence on the other armchair that you’d practically claimed as yours. You gave Karen a smile as she handed you a bowl of soup and you dug into it. You all ate together but you didn’t sit around waiting for everyone to be seated to eat. Billy came down a few minutes later and you felt your appetite wane as he glanced over at you. He moved over to sit with Frank who gave him a look before Karen gave him his soup. 

The next day, you were standing by the truck as you made sure you had all of your stuff ready. Dinner the night before had been as awkward as it usually was when someone was purposely not talking to you but you had decided to just ignore it. You were excited for the run today, your run, and you and Frank were by the truck as you waited for Micro to come out as he’d be joining you both. You had no idea if you’d find what you were looking for there but it was worth a try and you were excited to just get out for once. You were sick of Billy stopping you going on runs. Micro came out, a lopsided grin on his face directed at you and Frank as he came over, shuffling the backpack on his shoulder. 

“We ready to go?” he asked. He also looked excited to go out. He hadn’t been in a while as he'd been with Sarah but you were pretty sure she was feeling a little smothered since she’d been adamant he came along. 

“Yep,” you grinned as Micro hopped into the bed of the truck, excitement thrumming through you as you glanced to Frank. He had a weird look on his face like he was deep in thought and you are about to ask him what was wrong. That was before the front door opened and you looked over, seeing Billy walking right towards the truck, his knife and gun on him. You narrowed your eyes, head whipping to Frank who shifted on his feet.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you muttered to him and he gave you a sheepish look, unable to meet your eyes.

“He really wanted to come,” he shrugged and you scoffed.

“And I’ve really wanted to go on a bunch of runs since being here and I’ve not been able to go ‘cause his Highness didn’t want me there,” you hissed. His eyes snapped to you then, shocked and slightly guilty. You’d never told Frank you’d overheard his conversation with Billy that day, you’d just allowed him to feed you his bullshit excuses until you stopped bothering to ask to go along.

“Y/N,” Frank started, guilt coating his voice but he was cut off as Billy finally got to the truck.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at Frank and not at you. 

“You’re not coming,” you bit out, giving him a sour look. He dragged his dark eyes to you then, an amused and patronizing smirk on his lips.

“Is that right?” he asked teasingly and your eyes narrowed to slits.

“We could use another set of hands here, Y/N,” Frank tried to soothe, giving you a look that asked you to drop it.

“Then ask Matt to come,” you muttered blandly.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but your little blind boyfriend’s busy,” Billy smirked coldly and your brows almost flew off your head as you looked at him.

“Jesus Christ, that's enough! Stop with the jealous, petty bullshit, Bill. And Y/N, I know this is your run but I could use his help. You’ll go off with Micro to get your shit, I’ll take Bill to help with mine. Stop actin’ like a pair of fuckin’ kids,” Frank snapped, giving you both a firm look before he hopped into the driver’s side and slammed the door. You pursed your lips feeling like a scolded child but through the embarrassment, your brain wondered why Frank told Billy to stop being jealous. You didn’t even spare Billy a look as you moved around to the other side of the truck, opening the door and climbing in. You figured Billy would hop into the truck bed and sit with Micro and you were looking forward to the distance. It didn’t happen that way though as he grabbed the door as you tried to pull it shut and you squinted at him.

“Move up,” he smirked. You were sure your right eye twitched but not wanting to annoy Frank any more than you had, you shot him a glower before sliding up next to Frank in the middle of the seat. Billy climbed in after you and you found yourself smushed against Frank’s side just so you didn’t touch Billy. You didn’t miss the shake of Frank’s head as he sighed, giving Billy a look over your head before he put the truck in drive and pulled out. 

The ride was too uncomfortable. You knew if it had just been you and Frank it would have been full of talk and banter, it would have been a good time. But this run you’d been looking forward to was now tarnished by the long-legged asshole sitting next to you and you knew he’d sat next to you just to piss you off as he sat there with his legs spread, taking up as much room as possible. You wanted to kill Frank for agreeing to let him come. The trip seemed to last forever and you decided that on the way back, you’d be sitting with Micro in the truck bed. It was less comfortable in the physical sense but there was no way in hell you were doing this again. Halfway there and Frank and Billy started talking among themselves about nothing in particular and you tried to tune it out as you wished for the truck to speed up. But then Billy shifted, his leg knocking into yours and your head snapped to him, eyes narrowed to slits as annoyance prickled you all over. He looked at you, his face impassive as his cold eyes pinned you in place. You refused to look away though, glaring at him and at your unwavering gaze, he raised a brow before an amused smile curled on his lips that had you almost throttling him.

“I swear to god, Bill. You wanna act like a damn child, I’ll treat you like one. You need me to turn this truck around and take you home?” Frank asked annoyed, a stern face as he glanced over to Billy who blinked at his friend, mild shock on his face. It didn’t last too long then as defiance crossed his face, his eyes hardening as he glared at Frank who was simultaneously glowering at him and trying to keep his eye on the road. When Billy didn’t move an inch, Frank slammed on the brakes so hard you yelped, hands reaching to the dashboard so you didn’t hit it and you heard Micro shout something from the back.

“Get in the back with Micro,” Frank demanded and you blinked at him before looking at Billy who snorted.

“That’s a joke, right?” he asked, sounding far too amused. Frank didn't laugh, didn’t even crack a smile.

“Does it look like I’m fuckin’ around to you?” he asked and you were surprised by the severity of his tone, the harsh look directed at his friend. Billy also looked shocked before he scoffed, shaking his head before he got out and slammed the door hard before he climbed into the back. You finally felt like you could breathe and you slid over, able to now sit comfortably without squashing Frank. You weren’t sure why you were the one feeling embarrassed, after all, it was Billy who had been acting like a child. But the whole thing made you feel a little awkward and uncomfortable. Frank looked in the rearview and once he saw Billy was situated he started driving again.

“You can punch him if you want, I wouldn’t blame you,” he muttered after a while. You smiled to yourself, leaning your head on the cold glass of the window. 

“I doubt it would help,” you shrugged, although with the way you were currently feeling, you knew it would probably make you feel a bit better.

“Want me to do it?” Frank asked, a sly grin on his face. You had no idea if he was serious or not but you snorted and shook your head.

“I’ll get back to you on that one,” you smiled and he chuckled. You relaxed in your seat now and felt much better. You hoped once you got there, Frank would keep him the hell away from you. 

“I know… I know you’re probably mad at me for lettin’ him come. In my defense, I told him no a million times but we know what he’s like. Woulda fuckin’ turned up anyway, figured it’d be easier this way. Asked him to behave himself but I’m not sure why the fuck I thought he’d listen,” he frowned with a shake of his head. 

“It’s fine, as long as he sticks with you, I’ll be okay,” you murmured. While you weren’t exactly happy with Frank letting him come, you knew he was right. And you knew you were putting Frank in a tough spot here since Billy was his best friend. You were surprised he’d been sticking up for you as much as he had been but then again, Frank was a good man and even though Billy was his best friend, he wouldn’t stand there and let him be a dick for no reason.

When Frank finally got to your destination you leaned closer to the glass to see it. The building was huge, looking almost like a large greenhouse, the whole place made of glass and metal beams. It was surrounded by a high chain link fence and Frank pulled right into the car park. You hopped out of the truck as the others all got ready and you noticed a few large trucks on the far end of the car park, Micro saying something about how they might have shit in them from the last delivery. Frank was telling everyone the plans but movement through the glass at the front of the store caught your eye. You couldn't see through the glass as it was covered in grime, dirt and what looked like blood. You stepped closer, trying to see if you could gauge how many of the dead might be in there but then your eyes widened as you got a little closer and you took a quick step back. 

“I uh… we might have a problem,” you muttered, eyes not leaving the building as the guys all turned to you.

“What is it?” Frank asked, the three men moving to stand next to you. 

“Holy shit,” Billy breathed at the same time as Frank’s “What the fuck?” The dirt from the windows was being smeared away, revealing a sea of the dead inside that were pawing at the glass. There were so many and you felt yourself deflate a little. You knew someone had to put them here, just like the ones that had been locked in the carpark at the baby store. With how dirty the glass seemed though, this seemed to have happened a while ago. You really wished people would stop locking herds away like this because you seemed to end up having to deal with it.

“Guess we ain’t goin’ in there,” Billy mused darkly and you tried not to let the disappointment eat at you too much. You should have known something would go wrong, you’d been far too hopeful that you’d be able to get some crops out of this.

“Well… we could still look in the trucks, right? I mean, there might be some stuff there?” Micro asked hopefully. You nodded numbly, letting Frank put his hand on your back as he guided you away from the dead that seemed to be mocking you from behind the glass. Frank tossed Billy the truck keys so he could drive it up closer to the delivery trucks with them being so far away and you walked with Micro and Frank to them. Your annoyance of Billy’s presence had all but dissipated with how despondent you felt over this. When you got to the trucks, Frank used his knife to jimmy open the back door, pushing the rolling door upwards to reveal piles of bags. He hopped inside and you moved over to the door, noticing it was full of compost as Frank climbed over the bags and rummaged around.

“Nothin’ else in here,” he muttered, just as Billy parked up and came over. 

“The compost is good though. Even if we don’t get any crops today, it’d be handy to have for when we find some,” you mused, trying your hardest to look on the bright side. Frank gave you a smile, grabbing a bag and handing it to you and you moved to put it on the bed of the truck. Billy went and opened the second truck as Frank handed you another bag and you continued to load a few into the truck bed. You were curious about what he’d found but didn’t want to ask him. You didn’t have to wait for long though.

“Buncha seeds, but they all look like flowers,” he frowned, hopping out of the truck. You climbed inside to check yourself and he looked almost offended. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe him but you wanted to check he hadn’t missed anything. He hadn’t been the one to arrange this run, the one to be so hopeful about finding things to be able to be self sustainable. You grabbed the packets, looking them over quickly and discarding them as you went. Roses, tulips, forget-me-nots. You huffed a sigh as you tossed them, getting frustrated when you found nothing useful. A loud shrill sound made you drop a packet as you jumped and you quickly jumped out of the truck.

“David! What the fuck?!” Billy yelled and you soon realized that Micro had opened the last truck, only to set the alarm off. It was loud and made your brain hurt and you covered your ears as a frantic looking Frank moved over to the front door of the truck. The door wouldn't open and he ripped his jacket off, balling it around his hand before he punched the window to break it. He quickly unlocked the door, hopping in as he tried to kill the very loud noise that would be drawing in dead ones from a five mile radius. Another noise hit your ears then as you watched the men clamber to try and shut the truck off and you stepped away from the truck, the noise itching the back of your brain as it was familiar to you. You couldn't place it. But then you heard it again even louder and your eyes drifted to the front of the store, horror sweeping right though you when you saw a large crack that seemed to spread from the bottom where the roamers were hungrily hitting the glass at the noise, all the way up, getting bigger and branching off. For a moment, you froze completely, eyes wide as if waiting for a tidal wave to sweep you up and carry you out to sea. 

“Guys?” you called out, your chest feeling tight. They didn’t hear you over the alarm and they were already yelling at each other as they tried to turn the alarm off. 

“Guys?!” you bellowed more forcefully, just as the alarm stopped going off and your ears felt weird at the sensation.

“What?” they all called back simultaneously. 

“We’ve got a bigger problem,” you swallowed thickly, your voice wobbling a little. The grave nature of your voice had them all rushing from the front of the truck and as if waiting for them to arrive, the glass at the front of the store shattered into a million tiny little fragments. There was a beat of silence, everyone stood in shock, before a wave of the dead poured out. This was the most you’d seen in a very long time. Blind fear rushed through you, making you feel cold and your feet took root to the floor as Frank started yelling to get in the truck. Billy suddenly grabbed you, hauling you up like a sack of potatoes before he hopped into the bed of the truck with you, Frank driving and Micro in the front. The tires screamed as he put his foot down and the truck spun around since it had been facing the wrong way and you almost flew right out of the truck until Billy grabbed you, forcing you to sit on the floor. 

The truck stopped and Billy started shooting some of them as they advanced, getting them in the head as they fell to the floor.

“There’s too many,” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head as your eyes flit around. They were blocking the entrance and you knew even if you used your bow and the others all used their guns, it wouldn’t be enough and would only leave you with no ammo.

“Hold on!” Frank called out and you knew he had his window open since you heard him clear enough. You didn’t have time to process his words before he accelerated again and you gripped the side of the truck to steady yourself as he took off. Your heart was hammering away, hoping he wasn’t choosing to mow through the dead. There were so many of them, you knew the truck would get stuck. Instead, Billy suddenly shoved you to lay on the floor, his body over yours and before you had a chance to understand why he'd done it, you felt the impact as Frank rammed right through the fence, plowing it right down. The truck slowed for a mere moment before he tore out of there and the deafening chorus of the dead started to fade away as you lay there. Billy rolled off you, the pair of you lay side by side as you panted and you felt dizzy from the adrenaline of it all.

“Fuck,” he muttered breathlessly and you nodded at the sentiment. After about five minutes of Frank speeding down the road, he eventually slowed before he pulled over. You knew the dead wouldn't catch up and you could only hope they wouldn't all stay in a clump and come your way at some point, but you thought the cabin would be far enough away that you’d avoid it.

“Everyone alright?” Frank asked as he climbed out of the truck, Micro following suit. None of you had been close enough to the dead to have been hurt but you appreciated Frank asking anyway.

“Other than the heart attack I’m currently having? Peachy,” you snorted as you sat up. Billy sat up to, running a hand through his disheveled hair. With that drama out of the way and the threat in the distance, the disappointment clung to you desperately once again.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” you sighed with a deep frown. Not only had you been the one to convince him to come here and it turned out to be a bust, but you all could have died over this. 

“Nah, none of that bullshit, alright? It was worth a try. And besides, we got… we got the compost so, it wasn’t a complete waste,” he smiled at you but his words were firm. 

“That wasn’t all we got,” Micro grinned and you all turned to him then as he grabbed something from his pocket. He held out a packet and you took it, a beaming smile splitting your face when you saw it was potato seeds. 

“Where did you-? How?” you asked, turning your happy face to him. He looked so proud of himself.

“They were in the last truck, managed to grab ‘em before all hell broke loose,” he snorted. You hopped over the side of the truck, grabbing him in a hug that made him laugh.

“Thank you,” you grinned, squeezing him for a moment before you let him go. Frank clapped you on the back as Micro climbed into the truck bed once more.

“It’s a start, right?” Frank asked, a genuine smile on his face at your happiness. You nodded, clutching the packet tightly in your hands. It was a start. It might not have been all you’d hoped for but it was more than you left with. You really couldn't wait to get started with planting. You hoped one day, you’d have a bunch of crops and you wouldn't have to worry about food so much. As you got into the truck next to Frank, you smiled down at the packet in your hand, thinking about the future and that maybe, you might all have a chance at a real life after all.

 

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@ariesbutalibra

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

@noortsshift

[gomistore]

6 Great DIY Cardboard Cat Scratcher Plans to Try Today!

You’ve probably been meaning to go to the store to buy your cat a new scratcher, but it’s an easy thing to forget, as they aren’t everywhere. But perhaps, instead, you’ve realized that you might be able to make one at home yourself— and you’d be right! We rounded up some terrific plans that you can try, most of which won’t even require you to leave your house for supplies. Take a look and see which one sounds like the best idea for you.

My 6 Favorite DIY Cardboard Cat Scratcher Plans:

1. Dream a Little Bigger DIY Cardboard Cat Scratcher   Materials: Cardboard scraps Tools: Glue, craft knife, straight edge, glue, cut-resistant gloves Difficulty: Easy The Dream a Little Bigger DIY Cardboard Cat Scratcher is a straightforward project you can make in just a few minutes. It takes minimal materials, so you might not even have to make a trip to the store. The article walks you through the step-by-step process, showing you pictures to give you a visual guide. Essentially, you are creating a circular scratching surface that is glued together for your cat shredding pleasure. Making all those little cuts might be time-consuming, but we think the results are worthwhile. Heck, you may even enjoy the process! 2. Lizz @More Than Thursdays DIY Upcycled Cardboard Cat Scratcher   Materials: Cardboard scraps, adhesive shelf liner paper, catnip Tools: Foam brush, non-toxic glue, utility knife, straight edge, foam brush Difficulty: Moderate Lizz @More Than Thursdays offers this incredible little DIY Upcycled Cat Scratcher project for anyone to try out. This one required a few more supplies than some of the others on our list. But if you have the available resources and the time, this is a really fantastic option. We love how durable the end result is and the DIY itself is extremely easy to follow. The writer walks you through each step of the process, showing pictures along the way. Just be sure to use non-toxic glue for the adhesive to protect your cat. 3. Crafting a Green World Corrugated Cat Scratcher   Materials: Corrugated cardboard Tools: X-acto knife, glue, tape Difficulty: Easy Crafting a Green World Corrugated Cat Scratcher is a really cool concept of two tutorials in one. For the first tutorial, with the help of their gorgeous long-haired calico, they walk you through the process of making a circular and rectangular scratching pad. They explain how circular cardboard cat scratchers have different tension points than rectangular ones. We think that this is a really interesting project for somebody who lives in a multi-cat household, as it offers something to everyone. You can take full advantage of the tutorial for future reference as well, replacing the scratching pads as needed. It’s incredibly easy to follow, including step-by-step instructions with pictures included. We think any skill level would do well with this DIY. But since this one involves cutting cardboard, adult supervision is recommended for smaller children. 4. Purple House Blog DIY Cat Scratcher   Materials: Large cardboard box, cardboard pieces, catnip Tools: Box cutter, scissors Difficulty: Easy Purple House Blog DIY Cat Scratcher really drew us in thanks to their adorable feline model. With the help of this gorgeous tabby, the writer walks you through a DIY on how to make a rectangular cardboard cat scratcher. This DIY is very straightforward. It doesn’t require any glue or other messy components. It works terrifically if you’re wanting to put together a project with your kids, or if you just want to make a hassle-free creation. What makes this project really easy is that the base of the scratcher is already done for you as it is the length and width of the cardboard box. You just cut the cardboard pieces to size and then you can go to town. 5. The Instructables Cat Scratching Post   Materials: Cardboard, mortar, wall putty, washers, nuts, protection pads Tools: Drill, sanding block, sandpaper, wrench, pen, ruler, knife, metal cutting saw, trowel, rubber gloves Difficulty: Moderate/Advanced This DIY project might be the coolest one on our list today—it’s the Instructables Cat Scratching Post. It has a very charming aesthetic for being thrown together in the comfort of your own home. This one might require a little bit more patience to cut out all those cardboard squares, but the end result can definitely be worth it. Initially, you might have to pay for some cost upfront as not everyone has mortar on hand. However, once you get the supplies, this is a charming little cat scratching post to throw together that your kitty is sure to get plenty of enjoyment out of. This design has cardboard squares stacked in a cascade fashion with mortar binding together the top and bottom to keep everything together. You can get really fancy with this as well, painting it up or decorating it to fit your home stylings. If you’re looking for a more intricate project, this is definitely our top pick.

Upsides of Making Your Own Cardboard Cat Scratcher

When you go over the ideas you have about making your own cat scratcher, you might want to compare all the benefits to buying one that’s already made. As DIYers ourselves, we can’t find much of a downside except that it might just require a little more of your time than buying one online or at the store. Here are a couple of other things to consider. Saving Money If you were constantly replacing cardboard cat scratchers, it can get a little expensive. Store-bought cardboard cat scratchers might not last as long as he would like for the price. If you can make your own cat scratcher at home using boxes you already have, you really are saving a few bucks a month in the long run.

Image credit: Glr0115, Unsplash Recycling Boxes You’re going to need something to do with all of those boxes you’ve been getting these past few months that you keep meaning to toss away. If you are a big fan of online shopping, you can put those FedEx packages to good use. Reusing boxes instead of tossing them away is a perfect way to upcycle an already existing material. Occupying Cats Some cats can get bored quite easily. Having homemade cat scratchers around ensures that your cat always has something that can keep them busy. Plus, it gives them a variety of textures to shred and promotes healthy exercise. Ultimately, you’re doing your cat a favor. Creativity Boost Sometimes you just have to get out your glue gun and go to town. If you’re a naturally crafty person, you can really feed your creative side by making basic items that you have at home. And a project this simple is a great way to get children involved too. It’s something simple that they can follow along with under your instruction. Of course, children should never have any type of adhesive unattended.

Conclusion

We hope you found a DIY project on this list that seems doable for you. You could even make all five if you’re feeling up for it to give your cat a little bit of variety and to have a few extra on hand. This is a very inexpensive way to make sure that your cat gets the appropriate exercise they need without letting them use your trim or table legs. Featured Image Credit: FOX, Pexels About the author

Cat mom to Ivy – a feisty little rescue kitten that is her one and only child. For now! Throughout her life, she has been introduced to the special love that can be found in the bond with a cat. Having owned multiple felines, she is more than certain that their love is unmatched, unconditional and unlike any other. With a passion to educate the public about everything, there is to know about felines, their behavior, and their unique personalities, Crystal is devoted to making sure that all cats and their owners know the importance of conscious living – and loving! Read the full article

[arlecchno]

mission accomplished [ scaramouche x reader ]

six | the frat party

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you and scaramouche arrived at viktor’s party. like any other normal parties, students were partying left and right drunk out of their minds. both you and scaramouche took this opportunity to look for clues and evidence that might lead your case forward, whilst going through some problems along the way.

warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual mentions, swearing, intoxicated people, parties, yeah you know the drill

a/n: i’m not really that fond of this chapter to be honest. i’ve been having writer’s block for the whole week now and this is all i could squeeze out of my brain 😔 and i’m really sorry for the late update! i’ll try to post more regularly once my writer’s block is over but other than that plz be patient with me 💔 happy reading!

grammatical errors may occur so please let me know if i’ve made any mistakes!

“luna, you actually came!” viktor shouted through the blasting music. you turned around, flashing a smile at the tall man.

“yeah, i'm here alright.” you said while observing the surroundings.

the party gets crowded quick, you thought.

“and you must be...?” viktor trailed off, pointing out towards scaramouche.

“ivan.” the fake name rolls off scaramouche’s tongue easily.

“ah, yes! ivan... we have a psychology class together right? i think i've seen you there a couple times.” viktor asked, holding out a hand for scaramouche to shake.

“yeah.” scaramouche said, reluctantly shaking his hand.

viktor retracted his hand, opting to bid you two goodbye. “i actually can't hang out much since i have to greet everyone so please, make yourselves comfortable and enjoy the party!” viktor yelled through the loud music, heading to the living room to greet everyone that came.

you snorted. “well, that was pretty easy to get him off our feet. i thought it'd be a bit difficult to make him leave our sight.”

“where should we check out first?” you asked, glancing up at scaramouche.

“you've got that earpiece with you, no?”

“right here!” you pointed out to the earpiece that scaramouche gave you, hidden from your hair.

30 minutes ago

“here.”

“huh?” you looked up from your phone, staring at the earpiece that scaramouche's holding. “why do we need that for? it's just a frat party.” you furrowed your brows.

“who knows. i was planning that we'd go off on our ways and investigate, so that we can end things quicker and get out of that place.” scaramouche shrugged.

you rolled your eyes. “i think it's better that we stick together, it's easier that way.”

“no, we stick to my plan. do you realise how awful parties are? i don't want to spend a long time there.” scaramouche retorted, frowning at you.

“why is it always your way? you do know that it's a party, right? no one's gonna look at what we're doing, hell, people make out in parties yet no one bats an eye! who cares if we're sneaking around rooms. archon knows whatever are in those rooms, or whoever.” you fought back.

scaramouche groaned, bringing a hand up to his face to ease up the wrinkles on his forehead. “fine. we'll wear these earpieces, but still stick together. if anything happens that needed us to be separated, then these will be used to communicate. good?”

“i suppose that could work...” you mumbled lowly. taking the earpiece from his hand, you continued speaking. “but if we get caught and this mission fails, i'm blaming this all on you. i really don't want to handle the 2-hour-lecture from the tsaritsa.”

“we've been at this job for years! goodness, just make up an excuse. we're not gonna waste this case just because your stupid brain can't find an excuse.” scaramouche hissed, even more annoyed by your rather endless complaints.

“okay, okay, fine! whatever, i'll do what you say. can't have anything nice for once...” you muttered, heading over to your room to get ready for the party.

scaramouche hummed, looking at the earpiece place on your ear. “good, we'll get started with the kitchen. though i doubt that it's gonna be empty, most likely gonna be filled with stupid drunkards making out or something.”

“yeah keep whining dude, that's definitely gonna make this case go forward.” you said nonchalantly, already heading to the kitchen and leaving scaramouche behind.

well, scaramouche wasn't exactly lying.

the kitchen's littered with red plastic cups everywhere, and campus students hanging around drunk out of their minds, except there’s no sexual innuendos. thank the archons.

“i wasn't that wrong.” scaramouche joined after you, a dissatisfied look on his face witnessing the scene in front of him.

you pulled out a drawer to start looking out for clues and evidence to support the case. “enough chit chat, more investigating.”

and that's what you did with scaramouche the whole party.

you've been searching the current floor for around 30 minutes now, but you've found absolutely nothing. not even in the living room, the laundry room, the bathroom, the kitchen, and basically every single room there is on the first floor.

this house is humongous for a frat house, you don't even have any idea why or how viktor has it.

for the past week you've known viktor, you don't ever recall him being in any sororities of some sort. the case files even shows that viktor isn't in any fraternities and clubs either.

everything makes you go back to square one.

damn viktor and his amazingly good skills in hiding evidence.

“why can't we find anything here? this is insane. i thought we'd at least get a single hint, not a speck of dust!” you exclaimed, slouching in defeat.

scaramouche flicked your forehead. “we still have upstairs. i'd like to think that viktor shoves all the evidence upstairs before the party starts, in case people stumble upon them.”

you brought a hand up to your forehead to soothe out the spot that the short male flicked. “stop it man... let's just hope we'll actually find something there.”

yeah, you absolutely didn't.

“what the actual hell, we can't even find anything! does he really hide them in his dorm? there's got to be at least something here!” you cursed, rummaging through the drawers.

scaramouche was frustrated too, given how he's been groaning and grumbling every time he doesn't manage to find something at a certain spot.

“there aren’t even any safes or secret compartments either. i've got to say, this guy really knows his stuff.” said scaramouche, tracing his hands on the wall to look for any hidden objects.

footsteps can be heard from the outside of the room you two were currently in.

you and scaramouche both shot your heads up at the sound and darted your eyes to the shadow that can be seen from under the closed door.

someone's heading to this room.

the two of you quickly panicked, scrambling to find a hiding spot.

“what the hell! where do we hide?!” scaramouche whisper-shouted, peering through the room.

you saw the empty closet you checked a few minutes ago. without a second thought, you pulled scaramouche by the hand and shoved him and yourself inside the small closet, right before the mysterious person opened the door.

“huh, thought me heard somebody...”a male voice said, words clearly slurred.

“it's 'cause of yer drunk head, ya ass! hah, yer really wasted.” another voice popped up.

“d'ya think viktor wou’mind if we crash here t'night?”

“don't be such a fool! now get yer butt goin', viktor's gon’ kick us when he finds our asses 'ere.”

the sound of a door closing can be heard and slowly, the voices faded.

you finally exhaled—not realising that you've been holding your breath the whole time.

“good, they're gone now–” you said while turning around, stopping your sentence abruptly when you found yourself being face to face with the ravenette. your breaths fanning in each other's, and face mere centimetres from one another.

scaramouche had his eyes widened out ever since you've shoved him in the small closet, seemingly still shocked with your bold and sudden movement.

now your eyes are widened too.

“oh! um... sorry for pushing you here–”

“get the hell out!” scaramouche yelled lowly, quickly shoving you outside, the opposite of what you did to him a moment ago.

you stumbled out from the small closet, letting out yet another exhale.

curse that gremlin for shoving you with no remorse.

scaramouche stepped out a second later, brushing off the invisible dust on his shoulder.

“phew, that was a close call. glad we didn't get caught.” you sighed, turning to scaramouche.

“we didn't find anything though. we're gonna hit rock bottom if we don't get anywhere with this stupid case.”scaramouche mumbled, closing the closet door. turning back to you, he grumbled.

you shrugged. “well, to be fair, it's only been a week. we're gonna be undercover for what, two to three months? more if we're not getting anywhere, but that's highly impossible.”

“we're the greatest detectives in the precint, surely we can solve this case like any other cases we've solved. this one is just a tough one to crack i guess.” scaramouche hummed at your words.

“ugh, whatever. let's just... head downstairs before other people see us. it's bad enough we almost got caught.” he drawled out, heading towards the door.

you huffed, about to leave the room too before you caught a glimpse of something odd at the corner of the room, just right behind the door. you called over scaramouche who's already in the hallway now, in which he definitely didn't hear.

him and his stupid deaf ears, you thought. oh wait, the earpiece.

you called for scaramouche again, this time applying pressure to the earpiece in your ear so that your voice can be transferred to his earpiece.

“what?” scaramouche came back in a just second.

you pointed out to the odd thing you saw earlier. “look, it seems like something worth nothing.”

the both of you crouched down to take a closer look. you finally saw what it was.

dried blood.

“huh. and here i thought he's as clean as ever with his schemes.” you remarked, taking out your phone to take a pic.

you'll need to send it to childe later.

“i thought you checked here.” scaramouche said flatly, still looking at the dried blood on the carpeted floor.

“no i didn't, you did.” you looked at him.

“did i? or was it you?” he fought back, not wanting to lose to another banter with you.

“stop it dude. i'm not gonna argue with you in the middle of this, i'm the one who found it anyways.”

scaramouche once again grumbled in defeat.

going back downstairs was as easy as it was when you headed to the second floor. people don’t seem to care at your whereabouts at all.

students were filled to the brim in the living room, music still blasting as loud as ever at the quiet neighborhood.

“yikes, this place reeks of alcohol.” you pinched your nose with your fingers to lessen up the smell.

viktor is nowhere in sight, so that's good.

scaramouche winced at the loud music. “we should head out soon.”

you both walked over near the laundry room to get away from the mess.

“b-but! it's still so early, we should at least get a drink or two to not raise suspicions. viktor's gonna get furious of us!” you stammered.

“furious for what?” the said man suddenly appeared behind you out of nowhere, resulting in both of you and scaramouche jolting with widened eyes.

“o-oh! viktor, it's nice to see you!” you stuttered. “now how d'ya do?” you patted viktor’s shoulder, scaramouche internally cursing you for your bad acting.

“um... we've already met at the door an hour ago. but uh, i'm fine?”the brunette said questionably, confused with your sudden awkwardness.

“oh– yeah! sorry, it's the alcohol speaking. ah, this place is really blowing me up.” you fanned yourself with your hand to add on the lie, hoping that viktor buys it.

scaramouche scoffed. “yeah, sorry viktor. seems like this woman is too intoxicated. we'll be leaving soon.”

“sure, sure. i'll leave you two be. just enjoy this party while it lasts! it is your first party after all, wouldn’t want it to be disappointing now.”the tall man winked, heading to the kitchen to leave you guys alone.

“hah, intoxicated, my ass.” scaramouche chuckled, crossing his arms and looking at your clearly sober form.

“shut up! let’s just get a drink or two and head back to update this on childe.” you rolled your eyes, grabbing a clean red plastic cup and heading to where the drinks were served.

you groaned.

“archons, what time is it...” you rubbed your eyes, whilst finding your phone that's nowhere to be found.

not being able to find it with your hand, you opened your eyes.

where were you?

the unfamiliar room greets you, it's dull white walls and ceiling staring right back at your confused expression. you sat up, groaning from the pain on your back. archons, what were you even doing last night? and again, where the hell were you?

you took a moment to observe your surroundings. “where in the world am i– HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK?!” you screamed, looking at the person sleeping on the bed beside you.

the person grumbled at your loud voice and sat up from their sleeping position. “why the hell is it so loud for- WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK?!"

you both looked at each other with widened eyes, staring right at each other's souls.

it was filled with hate, confusion, or anger, you don't even know yourself.

“what are you doing here?!” you both asked, well, yelled, at the same time. you don't understand why you both ended up on the same bed and in an unknown room.

“stop copying me!” you both yelled at the same time again, dissatisfied with each other.

“what the hell, woman. why are you in bed with me?!” scaramouche screeched, seemingly as shocked as you are right now.

“excuse me, why are you asking me?! i should be the one asking! you're the man here!” you exclaimed.

you shot your eyes to each other's clothes, in fear that you did something not very appropriate with the man beside you.

thank the archons that the both of you are fully clothed.

well, scaramouche had his windbreaker thrown somewhere in the room, but other than that, you two didn't do anything. you sighed out of relief.

scaramouche groaned, pinching his forehead with his fingers. “shit. my head's killing me.”

“same here...” you mumbled, looking out to the window. it looks like it's still morning, you thought.

trying to prove that you're right, you looked for your phone once again.

“what?” asked scaramouche.

“i'm trying to find my phone but i can't find it.”

“it's over here, at this nightstand.” scaramouche said, taking your phone from his side of the nightstand and handing it over to you.

you held out a hand to take it from him. “thanks.”

checking the time, you blinked, before widening your eyes. not believing at what you’re seeing, you closed your eyes and opened them once again. it’s still the same.

1:49 pm.

“it's already afternoon?! what the hell!” you yelled, scrambling to get out of the twisted sheets. you stopped yourself when you felt the pain on your back again.

you rubbed your back, hoping that it'd ease out the sores a little. “archons, what did i even do for my back to hurt like hell...”

you tried to rack out your brain in order to find the images of last night, but you can't seem to remember a single bit.

“i think we're still at viktor's frat house.” scaramouche concluded. he was observing the room and when you look at it, it does look like one of the rooms of the ginormous house.

“huh, i thought we went home.”

“well, we clearly didn't.”

“i know that, jackass. i'm not that stupid.”

scaramouche groaned once again. “there's no use in arguing. we need to get home.”

you checked your notifications on your phone.

huh, viktor messaged me, i wonder what that’s about, you ponder.

opening the notification, you read the messages viktor sent you.

viktor

you and ivan got too drunk and crashed in the middle of the party LMAO 2:18 am

i let you guys crash at the frat house

you two looked too drunk to drive home

no worries, everyone left. it’s just the two of you

i headed back to my dorm to leave you guys be

there’s a spare key i left on the counter in the kitchen

you can give it back to me on our next class

hope you guys had fun today!

you grumbled. great, now everyone’s gonna think were crazy drunkards.

you got out of bed, body and back still aching. you tried to stand up and walk bit struggled miserably, placing your hands on the nightstand as a support.

“you okay?” scaramouche asked, looking over at your form.

“ye- yeah, i'm fine. this is nothing.” you lied, wincing at your limping body.

“you're clearly not.” he said coldly.

you heard rustling from the bed sheets and a couple of seconds later, scaramouche appeared beside you.

circling his arm over your hips and taking your arm to wrap it around his neck, scaramouche helped you walk.

“wait.” said the ravenette, walking you two over at the empty desk a few steps away to retrieve his discarded windbreaker.

he released his arm to throw the windbreaker on you, and circled his arm back around your frame.

“thanks.” you mumbled.

“anything to get us out of here.”

“you stayed the night there... together? on the same bed?” childe almost spit out his coffee from the news, both amused and shocked.

“that's really not the point here, dude.” you crossed your arms, frowning at childe through the screen.

“i don't even remember what happened last night, probably 'cause i was too drunk. you don't remember anything too, right?” you asked scaramouche, turning your head over to him.

you both were sitting on the couch in the living room and on a call with childe once again to update on what you've got yesterday.

scaramouche was hesitant to answer, only ended up shaking his head instead of straight up answering you.

you wonder what that's about.

“sure you two don't remember, i totally buy that.” childe snickered, drinking up his coffee.

you glared at childe through the screen. after a moment, you realised he's not at the precint, given how he's currently at his house office instead of the usual busy precint.

“are you not at work?” you changed the subject, raising a brow.

“ah, no, i'm taking the day off. my parents dropped off teucer, tonia and anthon at my apartment because they needed to go on a short vacation, archons knows where they're going to now.” childe paused, seeming like he was looking at the door of his office in case his younger siblings come in.

“my older siblings are too busy with their own families so the responsibility falls on me, not that i don't mind. i get to spend more time with them! which is really good since i've been really busy these days.” childe added, putting up a small smile.

“say hi to them for me.” you said softly, remembering childe’s cute younger siblings. you haven’t seen them in quite awhile.

as if on sync, the three kids barged in childe's office and ran up to him. they all climbed up onhim and looked at you over the screen, making childe suffer at the back.

“look! it's y/n! hellooo!!” teucer greeted you first, grinning up at you through the screen.

“y/n!! hi!!!” it was anthon's turn to greet you, waving his hand happily at you.

“is that sir scaramouche? he doesn't look that good...” tonia said last, peering at scaramouche's scowling face at the screen.

you stifled a laugh. sir scaramouche? he definitely made those kids call him that.

“sir scaramouche is doing so good, right, sir scaramouche?” you teased, amusement lacing your voice at the form of address the children called him. it just doesn't sound right on him at all.

scaramouche frowned, staring daggers at you. “shut up. we're supposed to be talking about the case, not talking to children.”

you pouted. “you're a party pooper. they're great kids, you just don't see it.” you whispered at him, not wanting the kids to hear your conversation with scaramouche.

“okay, okay, off you go now. i need to talk to y/n and scaramouche about work. go and play at the living room, i'll order food for you three later.” childe said, picking the three up from his lap and putting them down on the floor.

after shooing them away, childe sat back on his chair. “where were we again?”

you pulled out your phone to show the picture you took last night at the party. “this pic. you've already got it from me yesterday right?” you asked.

“i did... but it's not enough evidence. for all we know it could be viktor's own blood. we'll need the sample to get the dna, do you mind heading back there and retrieve it?”

“are you out of your mind? that man's gonna notice a small patch of his carpet is gone, you idiot!” scaramouche cursed, crossing his arms.

you ignored scaramouche’s tantrum. “can it even still be tested? that blood could've been there for over a month, it might not be able to be identified if it's been that long.”

“it's worth a try. you two could find an alternative carpet or something to cover it up, or maybe just trim the blooded carpet and sample it. i'll have it sent to the lab once it gets here.” said childe, writing some notes on his book.

well, it won't hurt to try, you guessed.

taglist; @beriiov @hopesandlegacy @cloudsandrenoswife @salamiwrites @thenightsflower @bleedingwhiteroses222 @lisiastak021 @yuuki4646

dm, comment or send and ask to be added to the taglist!

[hello-nichya-here]

Name good things about mai, she's depressing. boring and nothing special.....azula and ty lee act like people more not just s silent sexiest women there to serve her man

In what fucking planet does Mai exist just to serve Zuko? Or literally anyone? She left Omashu with Azula and Ty Lee because she wanted adventure and to get away from her stupid parents who expected her to just stick around doing nothing, and she poked fun at Azula's violent tendencies to her face the second they were reunited. She refused to follow Azula's explicit orders in The Drill, even though she was well aware that could end up with her imprisoned, hurt or killed. She called Zuko out on his bullshit when he was unreasonable, jealous, possessive and/or just expected her to listen to him just pour all of his issues and traumas into their conversations without any warning, and she didn't pretend to like stuff she didn't like just to please him.

Even her "betraying" Azula wasn't because "My man comes before everything else in my life". She was chosing Zuko - aka the person who, despite all of his flaws, genuinely loved her and wanted the best for her - over her toxic, controling, manipulative friend, and leaving behind the Old Fire Nation, the culture that expected her to just conform and do what was expected of her, regardless of what she thought and/or felt. She loved Zuko and wanted to protect him, yes, but she also wanted to be in control of her own damn life, and she literally called him a jerk while saving him AND full on told him to never try any shit like breaking up with her through a fucking letter again.

And it's funny how you compare her to Ty Lee and Azula to "proove" she just goes along with what Zuko expects of her. I love these two girls, but Azula lived to please Ozai, and Ty Lee wasn't nearly as bold while dealing with Azula like Mai was, even during their "betrayal" - for fuck's sake, Mai was ready to fight, die, and take Azula down with her, while Ty Lee just chi-blocked her and tried to run away with her friend. And who was the first person to put Azula in her place and actually make her question that mentality of "fear is the only reliable way" for the first time in her life? And who was the person Ty Lee loved so much, that seeing her in danger for disobeying Azula made her ignore her own fear and that back control of her life? My girl Mai!

And there's a big difference between being stoic and being boring. Mai's deadpan is fucking hilarious, especially when it is a reaction to Ty Lee ("the serious one" having to deal with "the super cheery one" is a classic comedy trope for a reason). Not everyone demonstrates their feelings as openly as Ty Lee. Not everyone feels things as intensely as Ty Lee. And that's okay. I understand if you personally dislike that type of character or can't really connect with that type of person, but that doesn't mean you and your faves are "right" while they are "wrong"

Mai wasn't perfect - no character in Avatar was - and the writers did make some mistakes with her (mostly due to not having time to explore all the potential she and others had). But her character is far from being bad, and she couldn't be further from "generic girlfriend character that exists just for the sake of her boyfriend" (which is part of why I HATE the comics)

Anyways, respect my girl or die by my sword.

[your-absent-father]

I haven't done a lot of things in here just due to having the worst writer's block and being uninspired to do anything. But, I got the newest chapter of Tartaros translated. Edan having daddy issues the chapter lmaoo. Also Louis's gaslighting arc. Found in ao3, Royal road and wattpad

Louis sighed quietly and stood up. A small strand of hair escaped from Father's bun in front of his face, and he did not fix it back. "We have an agreement with I.C.T.A. We give them criminals to test their drugs and other experiments that they do. They, in turn, help us maintain control in Ashphodea. So we even have some help when we get here... distractions like you know who. Don't worry, all the people who end up there are bad people who have committed bad crimes. We never harm innocent people.”

"You test drugs on... humans?"

“I don't know for sure what excactly they are doing. Neela works more with them." Dad crouched down in front of me and hugged me tenderly. "Be that as it may, we have no other options. I.C.T.A is vital to our lives. A big price for a big job.”

"Couldn't it be done without… people?"

"If only life were so easy. If we had other options, we would have done that.” I didn't know what to say. My father's words were drilled into my head. "I'm a good person, we all are. Even good people have to make difficult choices sometimes." Dad had such a confident look on his face that I too believed every word that came out of his mouth. I don't know if it was because of what dad said, or because of the pill I just took. I just... believed him.

[phantom-curve]

find the strength, find the melody pt. 6

okay so I wasn’t originally going to include the entire scene in Lessa’s office but, once again, my words ran away from me. now you get this beast of a chapter. it’s the longest one yet, coming in at a whopping 4,383 words so think of it as an apology for letting my other fic take over for a sec and also taking like a million years to post this.

I started working on Luke’s POV because I am nothing if not a fan of jumping the gun, and his writing style is so different and living in his head is such an adorable journey of Julie Molina obsession. really excited for you to see some of the stuff that’s been going on for our sweet lil soft boy. also, if you notice the dialogue style changing a little bit in this/future chapters it’s so I can have the same scenes without a ton of repeated dialogue in Luke’s POV.

writer’s block anecdote of the day: I keep flipping Luke and Alex’s name in Luke’s POV because one of the main OCs in my novel is actually named Alex and has been since I started working on this novel a literal decade ago. oh and there is also an OC named Owen. someday I’ll learn to give my characters unique names, but not today!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder​, @kat-maybe-not​, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist​​

Once they were close enough to risk running into other students, Julie dropped Luke’s hand. She made a point of ignoring the frown he gave her, using her now free hand to reach up and adjust her hat. Only, her hat wasn’t there. Her hands landed on loose, untamed curls instead and she immediately turned to Luke with a small amount of panic already building in her chest. He gave her a funny look, and then seemed to notice her hair and somehow understood completely. His hands reached up to lower hers. He let his grasp linger for just a moment before letting go, leaving her hands to dangle limply at her sides. Only his gaze held her in place.

“I never really liked that hat. Your hair is too pretty to cover up like that.”

He said it like a fact. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, your hair is too pretty to cover up. Julie felt a swell of emotions rise again, threatening to overwhelm her. But then he was off towards the front of the school throwing a very casual, “You coming?” over his shoulder at her. She raced to catch up, emotions beaten back for the time being.

They joined the surge of bodies filtering through the front doors. Alex and Reggie stood off to the side inside the entryway of the school. It was impossible to miss the tall blonde in his light pink sweatshirt standing next to the shorter boy in leather. Luke didn’t hesitate to weave his way over to them, but Julie hung back. She wasn’t really sure what was going on between them, wasn’t sure if she felt comfortable enough to just tag along behind him. She caught sight of Flynn’s hot pink beanie bouncing in the distance and let out a sigh of relief. She could separate from Luke here, talk to Flynn, get some perspective on this whole situation.

Luke glanced back at her then. She saw the question in his eyes, felt her heart race when he gave a little side nod like he was inviting her to join him. She swallowed and gave him a half-hearted smile before jerking her thumb over her shoulder in Flynn’s direction. He frowned, but she was already turning away. She pretended she didn’t hear him call her name, slipping into the crowd of students, letting it swallow her up so she could disappear from his sight. Eyes locked on Flynn’s back she moved farther away from the Sunset Curve boys. Flynn only jumped a little when Julie snuck up behind her.

“Jesus, Jules! You scared the shit out of me!”

Her best friend’s familiar voice washed over her like a comforting blanket. All at once, Julie was word vomiting the entire night.

“Flynn, oh my God. He had Mom’s song and he saved it for like, a whole year, and then he gave it to me yesterday, and holy shit I forgot how beautiful it is. And you’re not gonna believe this but I played, like I actually played the piano and sang, and it was like homecoming, it was like the biggest rush, like my mom was right there in the studio with me. And then, oh my god, now you’re really not gonna believe this, but oh my god, then Luke freaking Patterson showed up out of nowhere and he uh might have stayed on the pull-out couch, and then he uhm he made me breakfast this morning? And we walked here together?? He was like...doing this thing where his eyes were going all starry and soft and he was saying really sweet things and it was...a lot and I really don’t know what’s going on with that but uhm I’m kinda freaking out. Also, hey good morning, how are you?”

If Flynn’s mouth opened any wider Julie thought she might unhinge her jaw. In a sea of bustling students, it felt like they were in a bubble all their own. She anxiously fiddled with the bracelets on her wrists as she watched the gears turn behind her best friend’s eyes. After a full two minutes of silence, Flynn’s hand flew out to latch onto Julie’s bicep. Without a word she dragged her down the hallway and into an empty practice room. Flynn released her grip, Julie rubbing at her arm, jeez Flynn was strong!, while the other girl closed the door and flipped on the light that indicated the room was in use. She whirled around, her eyes drilling into Julie’s.

“You’re gonna start at the beginning of that whole mess of truth bombs and spill every last detail about exactly what happened with Luke ‘freaking’ Patterson. Right now. Starting with the bit about your mom’s song.”

Julie took a deep breath and slowly walked Flynn through the events of the last few days, from the moment she had run into Luke after her meeting with Ms. Harrison to when she ran away from him this morning as he was calling her name. Distantly, she was aware of the bell ringing, but it was only homeroom anyway. What did that matter when she was having an existential crisis? Flynn’s mouth only hung open a little bit by the time she was finished telling the story again. Julie felt her shoulders slump. What an emotional rollercoaster. Flynn was quiet for a long moment. Then, she smirked at Julie with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Hmph. Looks like my girl’s got a crush, and his name is Luke. I cannot believe you’ve been holding out on me like this!”

She was teasing, her tone light with a little bit of a mocking sing-song quality to it. But Julie could hear the undercurrent of worry running through her words. She had become quite adept at detecting that particular vocal quality in the last year. She sighed.

“Whatever. Can we focus on the more important revelation that I played the piano and sang again?”

Flynn, best friend that she was, gracefully allowed the subject change.

“Jules, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you! How did you feel? Alive again?”

Julie laughed, the sound feeling easy and light as it left her chest.

“Yeah, actually, that’s exactly how I felt. It was...honestly, it felt magical. It really did feel like my mom was there with me. There was this sense of peace that just felt...”

She shivered, remembering the sensation of ghostly arms around her shoulders.

“I can’t really describe it. But it was like something just clicked, and I realized that the best way to remember my mom and honor her is through music. The music we made together and the music I’ll make in the future. Rose Molina’s musical legacy will live on in me, and that feels pretty special.”

She couldn’t keep the smile from her face or the happiness from her voice. Peace really had been found out in that studio last night. Julie felt more ready than ever to move out of the darkness she’d kept wrapped around her like a shield for the last year.

“That’s beautiful.”

Flynn pulled Julie into her arms, the two girls sharing a long hug. The bell rang, signaling the end of homeroom, before either girl could say anything more. They left the practice room together, splitting up when they reached their respective classroom doors. Julie swallowed thickly as she settled herself in the back of her Calc class. This was one of the classes she shared with Luke, although she had conveniently forgotten that fact until the moment she sat down at her desk. He appeared in the doorway within seconds, giving her no chance to properly prepare herself. His eyes lit up when he saw her, and he started to make a beeline for the desk next to hers before their teacher caught him.

“Patterson! You know the deal.”

Not even Luke’s best pout could win over Ms. May. She simply raised a brow and pointed at the seat he had been assigned at the front of the classroom. Julie let out a small sigh of relief. It was hard not to smile at Luke’s dramatics as he slumped over and slowly shuffled his way to his desk. He dropped into his seat with a loud huff, glancing over his shoulder at Julie with forlorn expression. She rolled her eyes, smothering her smirk behind her hand. The bell rang again, and he turned his attention to the front of the room as Ms. May called the class to order.

He didn’t stop sneaking looks back at her the entire class period though. It made her want to squirm in her seat every time she dared peek at him and caught him watching her in return. He would always give her one of those soft, sweet smiles and then turn back to his work. It was unsettling, especially when she thought of how he hadn’t paid much attention to her in this particular class before today. Although, now that she really thought about it, maybe he had. Julie had basically been living in a fog of grief for the last year. The school could have caught on fire and she probably wouldn’t have noticed it until her clothes were burning.

She was almost grateful when one of the front desk aides appeared in the door to their classroom. Kayla made direct eye contact with her before knocking on the door frame to get Ms. May’s attention.

“Julie Molina is needed in the office.”

A tense silence fell over the classroom. Every single student remembered the last time Julie had been called down to the office in the middle of a class. Even Ms. May’s eyes flickered with pity for a moment before she gave Julie a gentle smile and nod. Julie stood slowly, forcing herself to keep her breath even as she gathered her books and papers into her backpack. 22 pairs of eyes watched her slowly make her way to the front of the room. One pair burned hotter than the others. Julie met Luke’s eyes for the smallest fraction of a second. Just long enough to see the concern rise up in them. Then she was out the door, walking the uncomfortably familiar path to the front office.

“It’s Lessa. And I think your dad.”

Kayla’s quiet voice startled her. She looked to her left, surprised to find the other girl keeping pace with her. Julie had thought she would walk ahead or peel off to deliver other messages. Instead, she got a small but genuine smile.

“Look, I know things are weird because of the Carrie thing, but I just didn’t want you to freak out too much. Frankly, I think Lessa’s kinda a bitch to pull you out of class like that. She’s an idiot if she doesn’t remember...well anyway. It’s something school related, not like a family thing.”

Kayla briefly squeezed her bicep, almost like she wished she could give Julie a hug. Then she was off down a separate hallway, waving the stack of messages in her hand at Julie as a goodbye. Julie watched her go for a second, feeling off balance and surprisingly emotional. Kayla was a Dirty Candy girl. In the battle lines that had been drawn between Julie and Carrie, Kayla’s position was as obvious as Flynn’s. For all intents and purposes, she shouldn’t be looking out for Julie, and yet, she was anyway. Julie wondered how many small protective moments she had missed from her classmates in the last year. Maybe she hadn’t been quite as alone as she had always felt. She took a deep breath and finished the walk to the front office, a little more ready to face what was on the other side.

Knowing it was school related and that her dad had been called down sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine for a different reason. It had to be something about the music program. Not for the first time, Julie regretted keeping it from her dad for this long. She was out of time now. At least she could thank the universe for small favors. If it had been her Tía in this meeting, Julie’s life would be over. Her dad was more understanding. They would be able to get through this. Julie forced herself to square her shoulders and enter the office with more confidence than she felt. Her mom’s words echoed in her mind you can do it. It was all the strength she needed.

At least until the door to Principal Lessa’s office was closing behind her, and she was face-to-face with her heartbroken father.

“Julie. Take a seat, please.”

Lessa’s voice lacked its usual bite. She just sounded tired. Julie felt that down to her bones. She slipped into the seat next to her dad without a word.

“I’m going to get right to the point. Two of us,” her eyes narrowed slightly on Julie who shifted in her seat in response, “knew this meeting was coming. The other one of us has now been informed as to why it was called.”

The weight of her father’s stare was crushing her. Julie didn’t have to look to see the disappointment there. It was rolling off of him in tsunami sized waves. Lessa continued talking despite the uncomfortable tension growing in the air.

“Now. We have several options. As you both know, Los Feliz is at its core an arts academy. We ask that our students participate in at least one of the arts programs. Participate being the key word there. Julie, it’s clear that participation in our music department isn’t something you’re able to do right now. While we were able to offer you a grace period, we have other students applying for the position you aren’t using. It’s only fair to allow them the chance to participate if you won’t.”

Julie was not going to cry. Not here in front of Principal Lessa and her dad, trapped on school grounds where everyone would see her when she left. She bit the inside of her cheek as hard as she could, letting Lessa’s soft but firm voice wash over her without absorbing anything she was saying.  She caught bits and pieces: Lessa offering her a spot in the less desirable subset of illustration in the fine arts department with a chance to reapply for the music department the following semester, her dad requesting information about the new program as well as copies of her transcripts in case they decided to move schools, Lessa’s voice softening as she apologized, her dad’s growing even softer as he thanked her for everything the school had done so far. Then the meeting was wrapping up, and her dad was shaking Lessa’s hand, and Julie was focusing on her backpack so she could get the hell out of there. She barely caught the sad smile Lessa gave her as she said, “Good luck, Julie” in that same goodbye tone Ms. Harrison had used on Monday. Julie had never been so desperate for her old hat to hide behind as she was in that moment.

She shuffled along behind her dad. It was obvious the school day was over for Julie. He was quiet as they made their way out of the office and into the empty hallway. Class had been dismissed while they were with Lessa. Julie was thankful there weren’t any other students around to witness her downfall. Her dad almost made it out of the building before rounding on her. Almost.

“I cannot believe you tried to hide this from me! I thought I raised you better than that, mija. You’re lucky your Aunt had a work meeting she couldn’t miss. Why didn’t you come to me?”

It was the overwhelming disappointment in her dad’s tone that did Julie in. She had never been able to stomach letting her parents down. If Ray’s voice was any indication, she may have reached the rock bottom of let downs.

“I’m sorry.”

She was. She truly was. She didn’t know why she had kept it from her dad except that if she had told him then she would have had to admit it was real. She hadn’t wanted to face that reality just yet.

“I just don’t understand, Julie. You still like music, right? Is it the school? We can find a different music program. You don’t have to stay here just because your mom loved it so much.”

Julie opened her mouth to argue that actually that was exactly why she had to stay here, but a different voice cut her off. An annoyingly familiar voice that had her heart racing and her palms sweating.

“Julie!”

She nearly groaned aloud. Never before in her life had Julie wished to disappear as much as she did right now. Just open a hole in the floor and jump right into it. The absolute last thing she needed right now was Lucas freaking Patterson getting in the middle of this dressing down. Hell, she didn’t even want him witnessing it let alone trying to get involved. She clenched her jaw, ignored her dad’s pointedly raised eyebrow, and turned on her heel to meet the teenage boy that suddenly seemed to be haunting her every step.

“Luke. Hi.”

She kept her voice flat, the go away clear in her tone. His steps faltered for a second, but she could tell by the way his shoulders bounced that he wasn’t going to be so easily deterred. She had run away from him this morning and been saved multiple times in Calc. He wasn’t going to let her avoid him anymore. He approached her and her dad with all the cool confidence a 17-year-old boy in a band could muster. Her mouth almost fell open when he bypassed her completely to stick his hand out towards Ray.

“Luke Patterson. You must be Mr. Molina. It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”

His smile was genuine and charming, his lyrical voice all too polite. Julie wanted to scream as she watched her dad fall for it. Could she not have one single embarrassing moment to herself anymore? Was she doomed to play out the moments she came off looking the worst in front of this cute boy for the rest of her life? Her dad’s eyes lit up as he shook Luke’s hand. Julie wished she could bash her head against something.

“Patterson? Mitch and Emily’s boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

Only Julie caught the way his smile tightened and his shoulders raised defensively at the mention of his parents.

“Wow, you’ve grown quite a bit since the last time I saw you! Good people, your parents.”

Julie rolled her eyes at the dad-ness of it all.

“I forgot you were in the music program with Julie...”

She couldn’t help but cringe as her dad’s words trailed off. That statement had been enough to remind him why he was here in the first place. He turned away from Luke to give her another heartbroken look. She hung her head to escape the censure behind his eyes.

“I am. Actually, that’s why I was trying to find Julie! She was late for rehearsal.”

Julie whipped her head up to glare at the boy still bobbing in front of them. He was trying to cover for her not knowing Lessa had blown that opportunity sky high not even 5 minutes ago. It was sweet in a misguided way, but it was also a painful reminder of all the things Luke had that she didn’t.

“He knows I got kicked out. You don’t have to lie for me.”

Her voice was sharp, and she was fully prepared for the kicked puppy look she was sure he would give her, but instead his smile only grew. His bouncing became impossibly springier, like gravity just didn’t apply to him. And then he winked, actually winked, at her.

“Awh, c’mon, Jules!”

His whine was just the right amount of playful, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Her heart did a weird flip in her chest.

“I know it was supposed to be a surprise, but the poor man is clearly suffering! We should let him in on our little secret.”

Julie’s glare intensified as she ignored the way the words our little secret hit the softest part of her heart. What the hell was he playing at? He winked again, something that should be outlawed given the way it made her stomach drop and knees weaken. Then he held up his hands in a half-hearted I give up gesture.

“Okay, okay. You don’t have to tell him about the plan to get you back into the music program if you don’t want to.”

If this were a cartoon, Julie was sure her eyes would have popped out of her skull completely at those words. As it were, she settled on doing everything she could to keep her jaw from dropping. She had absolutely no clue what he was going on about, but he clearly had some sort of agenda. There was a script to this encounter, she just hadn’t been given her lines. She saw her father shift out of the corner of her eye, arms raising to fold across his chest as he took in the scene unfolding between the two teenagers. Luke was still talking, apparently deciding to capitalize on Julie’s stunned silence.

“I just think it would be helpful if he knew about it. Then we wouldn’t have to sneak around so much. I know you wanted to have it be a big reveal, but we can still surprise your aunt!”

Her dad turned to her with a raised brow, confusion and the smallest seeds of hope growing behind his gaze.

“¿Mija?”

Julie wanted to punch a locker and also vomit. What the actual hell was Luke Patterson doing? She had no frame of reference for whatever game he was playing. No way of knowing if it was serious or some sort of prank. She looked away from her dad to meet Luke’s eyes. He gave her a small, pleading smile, silently begging her to trust him. His eyes became impossibly gentle and she saw that same boy from the studio last night and the kitchen this morning peeking out at her. Ultimately, it was that intimate reminder of his softer side that made her cave.

“It’s nothing, Papí. Just some hair-brained scheme Luke came up with.”

She raised her brow in a challenge, communicating with that one twitch that she wanted to see his endgame here. His face lit up like the 4th of July. She was sure if they had been alone he would have let out a victory whoop. He rocked back on his heels, hands in his pockets, biceps flexing in his best cool kid impersonation.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Molina. We’re getting just as much out of this as you are.”

She didn’t have time to snap back that she wasn’t sure she was getting anything out of whatever ‘this’ was before he was plowing ahead.

“See, my band and I lost our fourth member earlier this year, and we have our Junior Showcase coming up, but man, it’s been a serious struggle to find our sound without Bobby, and we really gotta nail this Showcase. It’s like the one where managers scout out who they really wanna pay attention to as a senior, so we gotta be the best.”

Julie saw where he was going with this before he actually got there, but it was too late to stop him. That was what she got for playing along with his stupid game in the first place.

“And see, I finally figured out that what we really need is someone like Julie to elevate us to that level. Your daughter is a freaking wrecking ball of talent, Mr. Molina. It took a lot of begging, but she finally agreed to play with us. There’s no way Lessa won’t put her back in the music program after we play together.”

His grin was a mile wide, pride shining from his pores. He was 100% sure of this plan, she could see it in the way he looked at her. Absolute blind faith in her. It was as flattering as it was terrifying.

“I see.”

Her dad’s voice was shockingly contemplative. Like he was actually considering supporting this crazy idea. He looked at Luke thoughtfully.

“Do Principal Lessa and Ms. Harrison know about this plan?”

Luke’s hand raised for one quick nervous scratch at the back of his neck. He gave her dad his most charming smile.

“Sometimes you’ve gotta go into ambush mode. Swing that wrecking ball of talent and smash some rules, eh?”

If it were any other parent, that line would have probably been the worst possible thing to say. But this was Ray Molina, whose first date with Rose had involved a small amount of breaking and entering as well as a large amount of running from cop cars and stealing kisses while hiding in alleyways. Rose had never met a rule worth following, and it was part of the reason Ray had fallen in love with her in the first place. Luke had sealed the deal without even really trying. Julie was doomed.

“I like it.”

Ray’s smile was almost as large as Luke’s. It was scary how similar they looked right now, enthusiasm shining in their eyes with an intensity that was borderline maniacal. There would be no getting out of this now.

“Why don’t you boys come over to the house after school? You can practice in our studio.”

Julie didn’t even get a chance to open her mouth before Luke was agreeing. She watched him shake her dad’s hand once again, some weird kind of bonding look passing between the two of them. Her dad wrapped a tight arm around her shoulder, and then turned them both towards the front doors again. Julie cast one final look at Luke over her shoulder, heart skipping a beat as he bit his lip and gave her yet another wink.

“See ya later, boss!”

Had her dad not been holding her up, Julie would have melted right into a puddle of mush. Yup, she was totally and completely doomed.

[mimi-cee-hq]

Embarrassing Moments, Endearing Moments - Shibayama x Reader

Pairing: Shibayama x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff!!

Summary: Y/n often feels embarrassed in front of Shibayama. But when she steps out of her comfort zone and intentionally embarrasses herself for him, he decides to tell her something.

Warnings: Dateko manga spoiler

Other Tags: Getting together, meet cute, big brother!Inuoka, second year Shibayama (for most of it), a Dateko vs Nekoma match

Author’s Notes: This is a match-up story for an anonymous who gets easily embarrassed :) I finally wrote this! I hope you like this. Match-up request description is at the end.

Also, this is for the Haikyuu Writers Monthly Prompt Event. I used Summer for the Summer Interhigh tournament. lol.

General Taglist: @dorkyama @the-black-birb @hqprotectionsquad @nagichi-kenma @moonaaluna @muffins-puffins (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

Word Count: 2,233

*****

At Yamamoto Akane’s direction, the cheers went silent as they anticipated the next serve. Futakuchi dribbled the ball, searching for the player he was targeting. The score was 24-23, match point for Dateko.

Y/n tugged at the sleeve of the oversized jacket draped over her shoulders and hands. Her palms were moist and contained imprints from her nails.

Shibayama stiffened on the court yet kept his eyes on the ball. Knowing this could be their last point at the Summer Nationals, Y/n closed her eyes and clenched her hands, thinking of her memories with Shibayama. Still shaking, she quickly inhaled and pushed out a yell from the stands. “GANBATTE SHIBAYAMA!”

And then she fled - not wanting to see all eyes in the stadium looking at her.

*****

Colored pencils laid across the kitchen table. Y/n had set aside a dark blue one for the hair and a light lavender one for the eyes. As she wore her headphones listening to her favourite music, she held a silver colored pencil as she added the finishing touches to fill in the drawing of a metal plate.

“There!” she grinned to herself as she held up the picture of her favourite Naruto character.

“Oh! I like that character too!”

Y/n screamed and fell off her chair. With her bottom feeling sore, she looked up to see Shibayama standing in front of her.

“Ack! I’m sorry!” Shibayama panicked, bowing repeatedly to her. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Hiding her face in her hands, Y/n promptly stood up, startling Shibayama. Running towards the kitchen doorway, she bumped into Inuoka.

“Oh! There you are Y/n!” he said. She tried to walk around him, but he just grinned as he kept blocking her exit. “Did you meet Shibayama yet?”

Y/n, whose face got redder by the second, muttered to him, “Nii-chan, you didn’t tell me anyone was coming over.”

“Actually I did,” Inuoka laughed as he pointed out her headphones. “Anyway, go say hi.” He shoved Y/n back into the kitchen, knowing there was no way else to get her through her nerves.

After he placed Y/n right in front of their guest, Shibayama said with a wide, toothy grin, “Hi Y/n! It’s nice to meet you.” He rubbed the back of his neck and added, “Sorry I scared you.”

Y/n blushed. This was the day she met Shibayama.

*****

Y/n bit her lip as she scanned the classroom numbers down the school hallway. Being her first day of high school, all of the rooms and hallways looked the same. Y/n turned the corner, hoping to find the second year classrooms. Her forehead suddenly bumped into someone's face, and looking up, she saw Shibayama clasping his nose.

"AHHH! I'm so sorry!" Y/n apologized. Just as she was about to run away, Shibayama got a hold of her wrist.

"Wait!" he told her. "I want to make sure you're okay!"

Y/n quickly nodded, hoping her answer was enough to satisfy him and let go. But he continued.

"Where were you going?" Shibayama asked. "I don't want you to run away and get lost." Y/n finally turned towards him which allowed him to release his grip on her. "You're still adjusting to high school, right?"

Y/n nodded again as she bit her lip. "I was looking for my brother."

"Oh! He's chatting with another teacher in class 2-2. I can walk you there if you want," he offered.

Y/n would have preferred to look herself, considering this was the second time she embarrassed herself in front of Shibayama. But she didn't have much of a choice if she wanted to find her brother as quickly as possible. "Okay," she complied in a meek voice.

As she followed Shibayama down the hall, her palms continued to sweat. He tried to make small talk but the topic fell flat. Feeling awkward with the silence, she also made an attempt.

"Maybe you should wear a helmet," she quietly told him.

Shibayama turned back to raise an eyebrow at her. "What?" he asked.

"Because I'm clumsy," Y/n added. She saw him blink a couple of times before she continued, "in case I bump into you like that again."

After a beat or two, Shibayama's face lit up. "Oh! Okay! You should get one too!" he said with a little too much excitement. "You probably need it more."

She whispered with a frown, "That was supposed to be a joke."

He stared for a moment and then laughed at himself. He placed a palm on Y/n's head and rubbed her hair. "That would have been funny if I caught on earlier," he grinned.

As he continued to lead the way, Y/n inwardly groaned at how stupid her joke was. But she smiled, blushing not out of embarrassment for once.

*****

Y/n sat on the park bench as she stared at her foot in disbelief. Her foot was wet, cold, and sticky. The back of her neck sweated as she watched the ice cream drip to the ground.

“Hold on a moment!” Shibayama said in a panic, handing her his cone. “I have my towel here!”

“No! Don’t!” Y/n was embarrassed enough already. But of course she continued being clumsy around Shibayama. “You use that towel for volleyball!”

“It’s fine!” he replied with a sweet look. He took off her sandal and wiped her foot with his towel. Y/n went stiff at the gesture, knowing her feet were sweaty and gross. She hoped they didn’t smell or else she’d faint from embarrassment. She was surprised she was able hold her shaking hands still, or else his ice cream cone would have fallen as well.

“There. I think you’ll have to rinse off your foot at home,” he told her, picking up her sandal. “And I don’t think you should wear this either,” he chuckled. The sandal was sticky from the ice cream. Y/n nodded in agreement.

“I can carry you on my back if you want,” he offered with a grin.

“What?” Y/n went flush. “N-no, that’s fine,” she said while lowering her eyes to not make eye-contact.

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted. “Your house isn’t very far. It’ll be quick.”

Y/n gazed at Shibayama then at her sandal. Trying to take a breath to calm down, she rationalized this wasn’t the worst thing Shibayama had seen her do. For the past two months, she had been eating lunch together with him and her brother. Inuoka tried to encourage her to get to know other people in the class even though she was shy with them. But Shibayama told him it was fun having her around. During that time, he got to know how much of a dork she was, which was really awkward at first, but she started getting more comfortable around him.

“Okay,” she responded, allowing him to give her a piggyback ride.

As Shibayama carried her down the neighbourhood, Y/n felt her heart beat thump faster against his back. Not even Inuoka had carried her like this before. She wondered if Shibayama could feel her heartbeat and really hoped he didn’t.

Shibayama started chatting with her - things like their teachers, their favourite TV shows, and his volleyball team. Y/n had met some of his teammates and planned on coming to watch them at the summer interhigh national tournament.

“I heard from Kenma that Karasuno lost,” he told her. “I’m a little nervous since Karasuno’s a really good team.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he continued. “Dateko won this time. They’re really good at blocking.” He sighed. “I might need to get better at follow-ups.” He thought for a moment before he added, “Actually, there might be a lot of block-outs too. I think I just need to be faster in general.”

Y/n knew Shibayama was the team’s main libero now. Yaku’s shoes were hard to fill. “Nii-chan said you’ve gotten better with all of your practice,” she said, trying her best to support him. “Maybe I could help you with some drills?”

Shibayama gently placed her back on her feet, arriving at her house. “Sure,” he said with a shy smile, rubbing the back of his head. “I’d love that.”

*****

It was the match point for their game against Dateko. Futakuchi picked up the ball; it was his serve. He had been targeting Shibayama the whole game, trying to make him crack. Y/n now understood what happened in the foyer of the stadium.

When Y/n came down to meet the team from the stands, she saw Aone pointing a finger at Yamamoto. At first, Futakuchi scolded Aone - only to tell him he should have waited for him. With a smirk, Futakuchi proceeded to point at Shibayama, letting him know as the ace that he would be targeting him.

Shibayama was terrified. It was the first time Y/n had seen him freeze up like that. Inuoka had told her Shibayama used to be a bundle of nerves but she never witnessed it firsthand.

Yet in the midst of that, he was still sweet enough to notice little details. When he saw Y/n rubbing her arms as the A/C ran at full power, Shibayama gave her his jacket.

So Y/n clung onto the jacket as she braced herself for what may be the team’s last moment on court. She could hear cheers for both teams on either side of her. But all she paid attention to was how frightened Shibayama looked, knowing he was targeted. The match would abruptly end if he wasn’t able to get the ball.

The cheers stopped. As Futakuchi dribbled the ball to prepare for his serve, Y/n mustered all of her courage and yelled, “GANBATTE SHIBAYAMA!”

He heard her - turning to her, blinking at her. His clenched jaw finally relaxed into a smile. After the referee blew the whistle, he turned back to focus on the ball.

But before Futakuchi served, a heap of embarrassment dropped on Y/n’s shoulders. She froze, knowing that many eyes turned to her when she broke the silence with her cheer.

Then breaking under the pressure, with cheeks red and hot, she fled.

*****

“I found you!”

Y/n jumped at the shock of hearing someone’s voice.

“I knew I’d find you here,” Shibayama said, grinning.

“How did you know I’d be here?” she asked.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d go to the restaurant or to the hairdresser,” he laughed. He was right. Trying to find a place to calm herself down, she left the stadium and found a pet store. She had been watching the puppies running around, giggling at their cute barks.

“Oh wait!” she suddenly remembered, turning to him. “Did you win?”

“No.”

Y/n bit her lip, eyes filled with worry. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” she apologized. “I shouldn’t have distracted you!”

“N-no!” Shibayama stuttered. “It’s not your fault.” He gave her a small smile as he nervously scratched his cheek. “I actually did really well after I heard you cheering for me.”

Y/n’s eyes grew, not believing what she did actually helped. Then a smile formed on her face.

“Thank you,” Shibayama told her. “E-especially since I know how easily embarrassed you get.” He started to blush. “I really like you Y/n.”

He continued to share how he had a crush on her ever since they first met. Inuoka would share about her - how she was smart and really supportive, how she also loves volleyball and how Inuoka was able to spend time with her that way. It made him want to meet her because she sounded like someone he could be friends with. He didn’t know he’d actually fall in love with her.

“What? N-no, I-,” Y/n started to reply. “I wouldn’t be a good girlfriend, I-”

“No, don’t reject me for that.” Shibayama took her hands and looked at her with determination. “No, I don’t want to be just friends.”

Y/n blinked a couple of times, surprised at his assertive tone. “U-uh, okay,” she replied. She couldn’t say no to that.

Shibayama got so excited that he cheered and then gave Y/n a kiss on her forehead. When she finally noticed what had happened, she hid her face in his chest, telling him not to look at her.

*****

I hope you liked it! Sorry this took so long. I wanted this to be a one-shot since Shibayama doesn’t have one. I thought Shibayama would be a cute fit because he'd be able to relate to being embarrassed. :)

Some of you might have caught the same joke from my meet cute episode from Operation Moniwa SMAU but told in a different way. lol.

Here are my other stories.

*****

Match-up request from Anonymous:

Heeeey, can I ask for match-up? I'm shortie (5"0) with brown hair and brown eyes. I love hoodies. I'm really shy with people that I don't really know, but I'm actually a dork. I'm so clumsy (I can fall anywhere on anything) and I'm not funny at all (my jokes are so stupid). I'm biology and chemistry nerd. I really love listening to music, drawing and volleyball. I really love my friends and I try to support them all the time. I become embarrassed really easily. Oh and I love dogs *^*. Thank you❤ 

[sophielovesbarnes]

All or nothing, chapter two.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader

Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy and cursing.

Author note: Alright, here we are, hot out of the oven! Sorry if it took long, I got stuck on a scene but I finally broke the writer’s block and was able to finish this chapter, we will get to see a bit more of SPN on this chapter.

I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what do you think, dm me if you want to be tagged and remember requests are open.

Chapter one

Masterlist

Chapter two

“Come on ladies! They are not called suicide running drills for nothing!” Your coach screams, you are beyond exhausted, your legs feel like they will give in, in any second now, you are covered in sweat from head to toe and your lungs feel like they are on fire. With the National competition getting closer every day your coach gets more demanding and the training sessions become more intense.

“So.” You manage to get out. “I don’t know if calling him is too straight forward.”

“Well.” Ingrid answers with her chest heaving. “It’s not like you have cared about that before.”

“Winchester! Fritz! If you are able to speak then you are not doing it right!” 

Ingrid smiles at you and then you both get back to running, an hour; that feels like an eternity later, you are under the shower letting the water wash away your exhaustion, you still have two classes left and you need to mentally prepare yourself for them. 

When you are changing into a pink dress Ingrid returns to the topic.

“So what are you going to do?” She asks while brushing her hair. “Are you gonna call the hot FBI agent?”

“I think I will.” You tie your hair up and close your locker. “There’s something really special about him, I just can’t put my finger in what.” 

“Aww little Y/N has a crush.”

“Shut it Ingrid, at least I’m doing something about mine.” You say teasingly.

“Hey I’m your base, you don’t wanna bother me.” You both look at each other with serious looks in your face and then burst into laughter. “No but seriously, tell me how it goes.” 

“Will do, bye babes.” You kiss her cheek and then leave the locker room. 

During class you are barely able to pay attention, when your psychodynamic teacher is talking about the five stages of psychosexual development and the fixations in the oral stage your mind is traveling far away, focused on soft brunet locks and shy smiles.

After school you go back to your apartment, you order chinese for dinner and when the food comes and you are so distracted you are almost sure you gave the delivery guy a 50 dollar bill and told him to keep the change, you eat absentmindedly and then head to your bathroom toying with your phone, after taking a bath you are on your bed, dressed with clean pajamas and your hair wrapped up with a towel, then you finally gather enough courage to make the call. 

The phone rings three times before he answers.

“Hello?” Your heart flutters at the sound of his voice. 

“Doctor Reid?”

“Who is this?” He asks, you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

“It’s Y/N Winchester.” You answer calmly .”You gave me your card at the FBI lecture at Louisville.” 

“Right, how- how may I help you?” He replies.

“I have a lot of questions, and you told me to call if I had them.” You take a deep breath and then say with a wide smile on your face. “But I thought it would be unfair to just ask without giving something in return, so what do you say about me buying you coffee tomorrow? If you’re still in town.” 

Silence.

You mentally slap yourself for being too straightforward, what made you think that he wants to go out with you? He most likely has a girlfriend and here you are throwing yourself to him? God, you are so stupid.

“I-I yeah, that would be…” You listen to him taking a deep breath and then he continues. “That would be nice.”

“Great! We should go to Quills, they make this mean peach- lavender lattes.”

“Sounds good.”

“Does four o’clock work for you?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.” 

“Hey pretty boy, who are you talking to?” Says a voice on the back, then the call ends.

You are smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, you have a date; well, meeting with doctor Reid, and you can barely hold your emotion. What are you gonna wear? What are you gonna say? Maybe this was a rash idea. 

The ring of your phone snaps your mind out of it, when you pick up you see your brother’s face and on the back you hear the sound of vomiting.

“I’m guessing Jo hasn’t passed the throwing up all the time fase.”

“At this point I am pretty sure she kind of hates me.” Says your Adam.

“I don’t kind of hate you Adam, I hate you, hate you.” You hear Jo say, then the sound of vomiting returns.

Jo’s pregnancy had caught everyone off guard, she and Adam were always fighting or calling each other names, but then at the New Year’s Eve party Ellen threw on the Roadhouse they both had too much to drink and the next thing you knew was that you were going to have another nephew or niece in nine months, there was a lot of crying and at some point Ellen threatened to cut your brother’s balls off, now she was just happy with the idea of having a grandchild. 

After the initial shock you were happy as well, this wasn’t your first nephew/niece though, Sam and Jessica had two beautiful daughters you adored, Dean had Ben; who was only a couple years younger than you, which was weird; and with Castiel, Dean had applied to be a foster parent, they now had a little boy; Leo, and were hoping to get another child.

You had such a beautiful family and were so grateful for it. 

“How are you baby sis?” Adam asks, ignoring Jo’s comment.

“I’m good, very tired, our coach is killing us, and I have a duckton of homework, but in general things are going great, what about you, how are things going on Kansas?”

“Things are good, the workshop is getting a lot of cars, Sam, Jess and the girls visit us every now and then, and Dean and Cas are all about Leo.”

“That’s gonna be you in a couple months you know? Have you thought of any names?”

“Jo likes William or Genevieve, I like Magnolia or Jebediah, Jo doesn’t like them so we have reached an impasse.” You see Jo exiting the bathroom and standing next to your brother.

“Those are old people’s names, tell him Y/N.” Jo says. “Tell him they are horrible names and we are not naming my child like an old person.”

“Our child” He corrects, “And they are good names Joanna.”

“I hate to not be on your side bro, but Jo is right, they are horrible.” You say.

“Thank you Y/N at least one Winchester is using her brain.” Adam rolls his eyes and you laugh.

“They are good names!” Adam insists.

“No they are not.”  You and Jo say at the same time, she was your best friend and somehow you were always in synchrony. 

“Now if you can’t reach an agreement Y/N is always a good option, it has character, it’s pretty, and let's be honest, the world could use another Y/N Winchester.”

“We don’t need another traitor.” Adam answers with false hurt. 

“Ugh, stop being such a drama queen Adam, you know what? Your baby wants an Oreo McFlurry.” 

“Five minutes ago you were throwing up and now you want a McFlurry?” 

“Yes, so better get on the road because they are going to close, don't do this for me Adam, do it for your baby.”

“So now it’s my baby?” They both start bickering and you swear they already act like a married couple, eventually Jo wins the discussion, because being honest there is no better argument than “I am carrying your baby” so Adam says his goodbyes and leaves grudgingly.  You and Jo stay talking for hours, it’s almost 3 am when you hang up, and you fall asleep right after.

When you wake up you feel well rested and you feel like you slept for so long, the sun comes bright through the window and your whole body feels relaxed, which is weird because you went to sleep really late last night, which gets you thinking that you never heard your alarm.

Wait.

You take your phone and press the side button, but the screen doesn’t turn on. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” You didn’t charge your phone, so the battery is dead which means that you are probably very late, you look up at the watch that’s on the wall, which indicates that it is already 12:15 in the morning, you are definitely very late. 

You jump out of the bed and run to the bathroom, no time for showering, you brush your teeth and get dressed with a pair of jeans, plain white t-shirt and sneakers, you tie your hair on a high ponytail, take your bag and run to the kitchen, you grab a banana and a bottle of water and run out of your house. 

You race on the road and make it to school on record time, at this time of the day it is barely impossible to find a parking space that is empty, when you manage to park it’s almost one, you mentally curse, get out of the car and run to the classroom, this promises to be a hell of a day. 

*****

Spencer has never liked this kind of conferences, they bring him back to his college years, which are not something he likes to think about, he didn’t have the standar university experience, most of the time he was made fun of, being the target of stupid pranks or being just ignored by his classmates, so yeah, college wasn’t something he remembered fondly.

He was on edge until yesterday, when he saw you on the lecture; he had already seen you on the football field being thrown into the air and then landing perfectly with a magazine worthy smile, of course he thought you were pretty, because you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever landed eyes on, but you were also most likely the type of girl that only cared about vain things and would have never noticed him if you had been one of his classmates; he was proved wrong during the lecture.

You weren’t only pretty, you were also smart, probably the smartest girl in that classroom, you were informed and you clearly cared about the topic, and when the lecture ended you went to him, when all the girls went with Morgan or Rossi, you decided to go with him; he was in such a rush he even had the bravery to give you his card.

And then the impossible happened, you called him, and not only that, you asked him out and he hasn’t felt this nervous in ages.

“Reid, Reid.” Morgan’s voice brings him back to the room, he and Rossi are looking at him with worry. “Everything alright pretty boy? You have been acting weirder than usual since yesterday.” 

“I am fine.” He answers almost automatically.

“Are you sure?” Rossi asks with an eyebrow raised. “We are worried about you kid.”

“Yeah.” He says. “Colleges just bring me to the edge.”

“Well, don’t worry about it pretty boy, we are just going to be here three more days and we are back to Quantico.”

“I know.” 

*****

The whole day you feel like you are running, you are late for class which gets you a reprimand from your teacher, which gets you late to your next class, which ends up getting you late to cheerleading practice. Your coach is so mad she has you running suicides and practicing toe touches until your legs feel like jello. 

“Point your toes Winchester! And smile, you have to sell it!”  She screams at you, everytime you jump you feel your muscles pull and your empty stomach hurls, you are almost sure that if you keep jumping you might throw up. 

When your coach finally lets you go it’s already 4:20, you mentally do the math, if you go to the locker rooms and shower you will be in the coffee shop at almost five o’clock, and agent Reid is probably already waiting for you, so you just grab your bag and run to your car mentally cursing yourself for not charging your phone. 

****

Spencer manages to escape Morgan and Rossi, avoiding their questions and he makes it to the coffee shop you indicated by 3:45, minutes go by tortuously, he sees people coming in and out from the coffee with cups on their hands, he sees people laughing and students dragging their feet, the exhaustion of exams and projects reflecting clearly on them, he gets a lot of looks and he starts to grow desperate, he calls you over and over but the calls go straight to voicemail.

By 4:30 he decides you stood him up, this was most likely a prank, how did he not notice? He was a grown ass man, an FBI agent, he was a profiler and still he fell for it. He feels terrible, how could he believe such a beautiful woman would ask him out and actually show up? He takes his bag and gets up from the chair, when he is leaving he sees a car parking and a y/h/c haired girl wearing a Cardinals hoodie and grey yoga pants getting down and running to the coffee shop. 

It was you, you didn’t stand him up, you were actually there, he can barely hold his emotion. 

“Doctor Reid.” You say, your forehead is covered in sweat and your chest is going up and down rapidly. “I am so, so, so, sorry, did I make you wait too long? I’m sorry, my phone died, and my alarm never went off, and I’ve been late everywhere, and my practice lasted too long, and i didn’t have your card so I couldn’t call you from another phone, and I came here right out of my training, so I must smell like a monster and I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t wait for long.” He lies, and you smile at him, and he can swear it is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. “Should we order?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” You lead the way and stop at the bar. “Hey Lindsey.”

The redhead barista smiles at you and then you look at him and he notices how your y/e/c sparkle with the white lights of the coffee shop. 

“What do you want?” You ask.

“You said something about peach lattes?”

“Peach-lavender lattes, it sounds weird but they are great.” You reply, and by this point he’s sure he would believe if you said the moon was made of tofu. 

“I’ll have one.”

“Great, two large peach-lavender lattes and a bagel please, can I also borrow your charger?” Lindsay marks your order on the cash register and tells you the total, when Spencer takes out his wallet you stop him. “No, I said I was buying.”

“No, I insist.” 

“Doctor Reid, put your wallet down, I was terribly late and I said I was buying, you can pay the next time.” The fact that you imply that there might be a next time makes his heart flutter. 

“Alright.” He agrees, when you get your orders you sit on the table he was waiting on and there’s a moment of awkward silence he is not sure how to break. “So, so you said you had questions?”

“Yes, I do.” You take a sip from your coffee and then look at him, he is expecting questions about the FBI, but that’s not where you go. “You have three PhDs, three BAs and you are only thirty-four, how is that even possible? Are you like a genius?”

“I, I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.” You stare at him with your eyes wide open and a smile on your lips. “...yes, I’m a genius.”

“That’s… wow.” The conversation flows after that, he talks about some of the most interesting cases he has had, you intervene every now and then making questions or comments that always seem to go to the correct point, and he feels like he can speak freely with you.

“Well, the vast majority of unsubs with a similar MO aren’t driven by the killing, they are merely fascinated by the body parts, it’s like they psychologically exist in a realm where fantasy meets delusion, it’s basically like the blueprint to create the perfect serial killer… I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“It’s okay, it’s fascinating, please go on.” You are one of the only persons he has ever met that reacts that way, most of the time he gets interrupted, he is about to start again when your phone rings, you take a look at the screen and then say. “Sorry I have to take this, it will be just a sec.”

He smiles and nods and you slide to answer. 

“What is the point of having an expensive phone if you never answer? Do you know how worried I was?”

“Hi Dean.” You reply, internally laughing at the overprotectiveness of your brother. 

“Don’t “hi Dean” me, where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering your texts?”

“I’m in a coffee shop, and my phone died last night and I couldn’t charge it until now.” 

“Who are you with?”

“I’m with a… friend.”

“Friend? Are you out with a boy? Who is he? Let me talk to him.”

“Stop being so jealous Dean.” 

“So you are with a boy.”

“I’m sorry I have to go, love you, bye.” You say and you don’t even give him time to protest before you hang up. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” He must have guessed you wouldn’t be single, he feels jealousy invading him, and he fiddled with his empty cup. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“Gross, no.” There’s a wave of relief when you answer that, and he probably shouldn’t feel it, he’s leaving in a few days, it’s not like there’s the possibility of a relationship. “It was my brother, he can get all Mama Bear when he is worried.”

“Oh, is he your only brother?”

“No, I have three, Dean, Sam and Adam, I am the youngest, like by far, Dean is 19 years older, Sam is 15 years older and Adam beats me by 8 years.”

“That’s a big difference.”

“Yeah, Dean and Sam are my half-brothers, from dad’s first marriage, their mother died when they were very young and dad took it very hard and started to move them around the country, that’s how he met my mom, he went to Minnesota they had a one night stand and she got pregnant, but she didn’t tell him about Adam until he was like six, then he went back to Windom, they fell in love, dad moved them to Kansas, he married my mom and then they had me, hence the age gap.” You explain. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

“No, I’m an only child, I grew up with Doctor Who and Star Trek as my companions.”

“Doctor Who?”

“Yeah, it’s, it’s good.”

“I know, I’m not gonna act like I didn’t mourn for a week when Ten left Rose on the beach.”

“You like it?”

“I may look like your stereotype cheerleader, but I’m a huge geek, Dean and his best friend Charlie made sure of that.”

The conversation flows as freely as water after that, for some reason you find it easy to talk to him, you tell him so many things you haven’t even told Jo, you talk about everything, favorite holidays; yours is Christmas, his is Halloween; tv shows, characters. You delite with his rambling and pay attention to every word he says, when you finally realize it, the sky has turned dark and you are the last people in the coffee shop.

“I think we should probably let them close.” 

“Yeah, we should.” You both take your bags and stand up. “Hey, when are you leaving town?”

“On friday.”

“Let me make you dinner, I make a killer lasagna.” You look at him expecting an answer but he can barely say anything, he just had an amazing evening with a gorgeous girl who is now inviting him to her house, he should probably pinch himself to make sure he is not dreaming. “Spencer?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“It’s a date then.”

[thesolferino]

— rules.

this is a general post discussing my boundaries as a writer + a guide for requesting.

⤷ WHAT I WILL WRITE:

the people i write for are the dream team (dream, georgenotfound, sapnap). i write both irl and smp!dream team, however i do prefer writing smp characters since i’m just more comfortable with that. you can request irl though, i absolutely don’t mind

i do write nsfw. minors can follow my blog, however i do ask of you to block the “nsfw”/“nina nsfw hours” tag since i tag my nsfw drabbles that way. for smut oneshots, i always add cuts and specifically state that minors should not continue reading below the cut!

i will write things such as yandere tropes, violence, gore etc. i will tag them and put warnings so if any of those disturb you, you don’t have to read!

⤷ WHAT I WON’T WRITE:

i will not write for any other youtubers, dsmp members or not. i do like all of the smp, however a lot of them seem to have blurred boundaries, are uncomfortable or haven’t explicitly stated how they feel about fanfiction/shipping content and i respect that. you are always welcome to discuss dsmp characters with me as i love them and the lore behind them, but i will not be writing full-fledged oneshots of them.

i will not write topics such as eating disorders, severe mental disorders or sexual crimes (e.g rape, sexual assault, pedophilia, grooming etc) as i either do not know enough about these topics to write them, or am uncomfortable with writing these things as they may be potentially triggering to me/readers. this includes comfort fics with trauma victims (my heart goes out to you all <3)

i won’t write male readers! my apologies to those who wish to read my fics with male pronouns, i fully respect anyone who uses he/him pronouns, however i am not a man nor do i use he/him pronouns so i do not know what that’s like, nor do i know what gay relationships between men are like because i’ve never been in one, so i feel like i would be portraying it incorrectly. i do accept gender neutral readers, though! (more on this below)

⤷ HOW TO REQUEST?:

— REQUESTING ONESHOTS:

please specify which pronouns you want to be used! i’m totally fine with either she/her or they/them pronouns, so please specify that - if you do not specify which, i will not be writing the request

please give me something to work with! give me a plot and ending if you have a specific idea, sprinkle in some details! you don’t have to write a full novel on your idea, just give me something to work with and don’t be too vague!

(if the plot is easily summarised in a sentence, such as “stream finding out you’re [cc]’s s/o on accident” then a simple sentence is fine, however if it’s a specific au such as soulmate, fake dating etc, please add details!)

— REQUESTING DRABBLES/HEADCANONS:

drabbles aren’t always open! drabble time will be announced in it’s time, and during that span of a couple of hours you can send your drabble ideas and i’ll post them!

headcanons are always open! if you want to, you can specify a gender (please do if it has nsfw elements) but if you don’t, i’ll use they/them pronouns

you know the drill with requesting drabbles/hcs tbh, like one sentence is totally fine

have fun requesting! :)

[ironspiidey]

Starker Spofity Shuffle

So ive been struggling with severe writers block. After seeing some peeps do the song shuffle mini fic thing on tumblr I thought it might be a good way to curb said writers block. Fingers crossed guys.

Read on A03

Help Pour Out the Rain (Lacey’s Song)// Buddy Jewell (Parent!Peter, Innocent!Morgan )

Peter was just on his way back to the house after his and Morgan’s weekly ice cream date after much of both Pepper and Tony saying that he was her parent as Pep and Tony are and that she needed alone time with her Papa as much as her Mommy and Daddy. When Morgan piped up from the backseat

“Papa!”

“Yes peanut?”

“Will we ever visit Auntie Nat?”

Peter glanced back at her through the rear-view mirror “I wish we could but Nat is in heaven with the angels.”

“Can we go there? Like to visit or would we have to stay forever. Could god use another angel to poor out the rain?” Morgan kept questioning her papa while she kept looking out the window

“Sorry baby we can’t go visit or stay until its our time to do so sweetie.”

“Oh okay.” Morgan shrugs her shoulders, the 6-year-old was silent for a moment before asking about something else. Not noticed how her Papa’s eyes were misty.

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

With it// Always Never (Teenage!Starker, Hidden Relationship!)

Peter doesn’t get it, one-minute Tony and he are on the same page than all of a sudden he’s ghosted hard.

Tony tells his buddies that him and Peter have a weird friendship. Which honestly is true. After the disaster that was Quentin Beck, Peter stopped putting his heart on his sleeve. He thought things would be kinda okay with him and Tony until Tony started hiding them like what the fuck is that. Especially since he was with guys openly it wasn’t a coming out thing. Maybe Tony is just scared because of how Peter told him to enjoy the ride and let it play out and not to worry about love.

Only reason Peter even said that was because he was A. Stoned as hell, B. Just getting over his ex and C. Knowing how much of a player Tony Stark was and didn’t want to lose this good vibe of a friendship thing they had. But now? Now Peter knows he’s in love with him and maybe next time they get high he’ll mention it. Tony is always 100% honest while high.

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

Hymn For The Missing// Red ( Character Death, Grieving!Tony, Adult!Peter, )

Tony finds himself back on the rooftop of the tower once again still heartbroken 2 years later. He fucking lost Peter. Tony never forgave himself for it, staring at the sky he wonders what happens to those that were dusted. Are they alive but in an alternate universe? Or are they truly dead? Strange doesn’t say much about what could be and frankly Tony doesn’t really want to know. The thought of sweet Peter, his Babyboy truly dead forever or stuck in the galaxy drifting would be too much to bear. It’s bad enough as it is with the knowledge that he couldn’t save him in the first place. Tony takes a deep breath and downs the scotch in his hand. It helps numb helps the pain. But only a little.

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

Difficult Love// City and Colour (Minor Cheating mentioned, Drug use Mentioned Tony fucked up a lot but Peter loves him)

Tony knows its not been easy for Peter to stick by him. All these years from his college days and the fights, the drugs, the ‘cheating’. Peter refuses to call what Tony did cheating, says they were on a break so he cant call it cheating, But Tony well he knows it was a dick move because they were only on a break because Peter felt Tony needed to deal with some of his issues on his own without having to worry about Peter too.

All that happened during that break was Tony getting high out of his tree on things much harsher than weed, sleeping with randos and 2 overdoses. One that nearly killed him.

At the same time, he knows he needed to go through all that to be the Tony Stark he is today. Maybe without the overdoses but he’s still breathing and that’s what counts, or that’s at least what Peter keeps drilling into his thick brain.

God Tony is so grateful Peter stuck by him through his difficult love all these years.

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

Worst in Me// Julia Michaels (Jealous!Peter, they have issues, but Tony knows they can work through it)

Peter sighs out on the balcony of their home. THEIR home. Peter takes a deep breath. Tonight’s fight was bad real bad. Peter let his emotions get in the way, the bad ones. The ones where he can’t help but be jealous of the woman that try to hang of Tony, his husband. They worked through so much shit. From abusive exs and past traumas together to have something so stupid get in the way. Peter shakes his head. Why does the worst in him have to come out and ruin things? Things used to be so great with him and Tony. But of course, Tony pushes and Peter pushes back and then they end up like this. Peter swallows and heads back inside, headed for the lab where he knows his better half is bound to be.

Peter tries the door, but it won’t him which means Tony is very mad and Peter definitely crossed the invisible line of don’t go here.

“Friday? Can you open this door?”

“Sorry Peter, Boss said no visitors, especially Spiderhusband.”

Peter lets out a sad chuckle at the little nickname.  “Can you patch my voice through to the lab.”

“Of course.”

“Tony..”

“Peter please go away.”

“Just hear me out, I promise if you don’t want to hear from me. Ill go stay with May or Bucky or something. Just please” Peter swallows, his voice starting to break. “Just let me say my piece first.”

Tony doesn’t look up from his hologram, just motions with his hand for him to continue.

“Its like I’ve got this chain reaction to act like a total dick. That the worst in me just must make an appearance when things are just getting good. I bring out all your monsters and I’m so sorry Tony. I’m not perfect but I cant lose you.. We used to be so happy and I know we could fix these kinks and the bad parts may not want to fix this, us. But the best in me wants to love you until the end of every forever.”

By the end of Peter’s spiel, both of them are crying. Tony walks over to the door and unlocks it. Opening his arms “C’mere Petey Pie. We are never above fixing. I get bitter.” Tony wraps his arms tightly around his husband as he ran into his arms “But I didn’t exactly stop people from mauling over me and I’ll do my very best to not hurt you again baby, We can do this.”

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

Until the Day I Die// Story Of The Year (Hurt!Tony, Peter professes his love )

“God Tony this is so scary.” Peter swallows looking at his boyfriend and mentor laying in this hospital bed . “I need you to be okay. I know we haven’t been together long and this is definitely NOT the way to profess my love to you but the Doctors say your brain activity is fine and your just not waking up. So here goes.”

Peter glances at the door to make sure nobody was within listening distance. “Tony I feel like I loved you my whole life and not in the hero obsession everyone thinks. You’ve become my best friend, rock and partner all in one and while we only started becoming a thing. I love you with all of me until the day I die. If you don’t wake up and pull through this, if you.” Peter swallows “If you die, you’ll be taking me with you because without you Im nothing. Please Baby come back to me.”

[hello-nichya-here]

Zucest - Is It Really Flirting?

(Originally posted on AO3 as chapter 43 of Defending and Analysing Zucest)

@azdaema-does-art asked: So I think a big stumbling block for me with this ship is that I very much adhere to the reading of the show that holds:

Quasi-Seducer!Azula (as seen virtually anytime) and Quasi-Seducer!Zuko (as seen in "The Waterbending Scroll") are not actually expressions of desire from them. Rather, this is Zuko and Azula trying to be intimidating by modeling their behavior off their father (circling, personal-space-invading, low seductive tones, etc)

When actually trying to flirt neither Zuko nor Azula acts anything like that. When Zuko goes on that date with a girl in the Earth Kingdom, or Azula flirting with that guy on Ember Island, they're both awkward disasters.

I'd be curious to hear you address this. (Or point me to some awkward disaster!zucest fanfic.)

***

That is a really good point and I'm glad you brought it up. While I understand that reading of the show, I disagree with it slightly for a few reasons (beyond my own bias).

Need to be in control: No one can argue against the fact that neither Zuko nor Azula know how to have "normal", healthy relationships with others, mainly due to how unequal 99% of the relationships in the Fire Nation are since imposing your own will over someone else's has become part of their culture. Both Zuko and Azula accepted being treated like mere tools/punching bags by their father, Zuko was constantly insulting Iroh over the smallest things and Azula full on threatened Ty Lee's life to make her join her on her chase after her brother and the Avatar - both were scenarios where desire wasn't a factor at all (thought I know many fans that would like to think otherwise XD)

However, during The Beach, we saw how both of them try (and fail) to deal with romance. Zuko was extremelly paranoid that Mai was interested in another guy, for no real reason, and was constantly trying to intimidate her into either admiting to it or into saying she disliked the guy, even though she had clearly said she was completely indifferent to him. And Azula, after her kiss with Chan, decided, on her own and not giving a damn about his feelings on the matter, that not only would they be officially a couple, but that they'd dominate the earth together. Control is, more often than not, a major factor in all of their actions and relationships, so Azula wanting to intimidate Zuko in the bedroom scene (which she very much tried to do and succeeded at) doesn't automatically rule out the possibility of atraction.

Mixed feelings: While "I wanna fight/kill my sibling" is sort of these two default state, there are moments that show that they do have at least some positive feelings for each other. Zuko doesn't give a shit that Aang is going to kill Ozai, but seeing Azula falling "to her death" and then chained up and defeated after their Agni Kai quite clearly made him emotional, even if he tried to control himself. Azula's positive feelings for Zuko are so obvious I had to do an in length discussion of it in chapter 12 "Is Zucest just about sex?" Combine all of the conflicting emotions they have for each other with their need to control the other, and some scenes end up getting some connotations the writers weren't planning them to have... supposedly (I'll get into that in a bit)

Awareness and familiarity: Don't get me wrong, Zuko and Azula are two extremelly traumatized, socially awkward teenagers who have no idea how to flirt (or how to fit in with people their age) but we also need to take context into consideration, especiall when it comes to Zuko's date with Jin and Azula's interactions with Chan.

In Ba Sing Se, Zuko was outside of his comfort zone, away from home, in enemy territory, and so paranoid that he assumed Jin came into the tea shop so often because she knew they were Fire Nation, not because she had a crush on him or simply enjoyed their tea. And while he liked her and the date was nice, Zuko was very "stiff" and even looked a bit uncomfortable (not to say very uncomfortable) at some points - which is oddly simmilar to how he was acting during the bedroom scene (hell, Azula was quite clearly looking at him just like Jin did, as I pointed out in "The most important parallel in Avatar"). Finally, we cannot forget that, even though he was awkward as fuck during 90% of the night, Zuko did manage to do something kinda romantic by lighting up the place, meaning he isn't completely oblivious to the concept of flirting (which is proved by his relationship with Mai).

Now, when it comes to Azula, the poor girl has almost no idea how to flirt. Almost. Talking about Chan's sharp outfit shows she's got some of the basis down, like "say something nice" - the problem is that her concept of "nice" is very different than that of most people. She did sort of know what to do once Ty Lee gave her some tips... but she quickly reversed back to her regular ways - which once again shows that flirting/seduction has an element of control and intimidation for her. She probably doesn't always mean to act in ways that could be considered flirty, but that doesn't mean she is completely oblivious to the implications of, let's say, invading her brother's personal space and talking to him in a low tone while wearing nothing but a robe.

And since I mentioned Azula going back to what she knows, that leads us to another thing to take into account: the fact that Zuko and Azula quite literally knew each other their whole lives - meaning if they were to ever flirt with each other, it would probably look at least somewhat different than when they were out of their element. Azula was the one in control, so she was far more comfortable and confident than she had been with Chan, and Zuko was the one being intimidated, which explains why he kept his guard up. Once again, that "theory" is sort of confirmed if we compare how Zuko acted while flirting with Mai on The Headband versus how he tried to interact with her in The Beach - when he used a non-traditional, but very Mai-esque "You're so beautiful when you hate the world" he got her equivalent of an "I love you" when she told him she didn't hate him, but he tried to do more "normal" things like getting her a pretty shell it blew up on his face. He knows Mai since they were both kids, meaning he usually knows how to deal with her, just like Azula usually knows how to deal with him.  

Intensity: While a lot of Azula's behavior can be explained by her copying Ozai, we need to remember that there's only so much he could affect, especially since her way of "intimidating" Zuko was far more touchy and incestuous than his, and lasted a lot longer. Azula gets close to people when she's intimidating them (see how she toyed with Aang in The Drill), but not as close as she did with her brother. The sole exception to that being Sokka on The Day Of Black Sun - but that is on somewhat shaky ground despite the accidental sexual tension since the first time she got close to him she was being launched by the Dai Li and he just happened to be standing a little bellow the direction she was launched at, and the second time had him pinning her to the wall (which is in character since Sokka usually goes straight at his foes to intimidate them while fighting), and as soon as she had her firebending back she pushed him away. On top of that, she was trying to distract him, Aang and Toph, meaning he wasn't her focus at all, and she ignored him on all the other times their groups were facing each other.

With Zuko on the other hand, she was going full force, like I said on my analysis of the bedroom scene. She played coy, stared at him in a very intense, weird way, circled the pillar on her bed, stretched in front of him, got on his personal space touching his shoulder and chest, and bit her lip while talking basically purring her words. That is all a bit too much for me to believe it was just about intimidation. And the touching gets even more suspicious when you notice Azula does enjoy and is willing to give physical affection - she hugged both Mai and Ty Lee after seeing them again, pulled Ty Lee close while conforting her and apologizing for her harsh words at The Beach... and put her hand on Zuko's shoulder while saying he restored his own honor to reassure him after he was feeling bad for betraying his uncle.

Intention of the actors/writers/animators: Avatar is no stranger to parallels. It also isn't a stranger to adult themes/jokes, fanservice, and ship teasing. For instance, even thought they didn't end up together and were never canonically interested in each other, there was A LOT of hints/teases of Zutara - dude fucking took lightining to the heart for her.

Just like the writers and producers were aware of Zutara, Tokka and many, many other ships, they were also aware of Zucest and even jokingly shipped Azula and The Blue Spirit at a panel. The animators habit of sexualizing the characters speaks for itself, so I won't even go into that. Finally, Grey Delisle, Azula's voice actress is a Zucest shiper, has brought it up many times, asked people to send her fanart and fanfic of it, created the phrase "Zucest is best cest", and has full on said she voiced the scene as if Azula was trying to seduce Zuko,  - which regardless of whether or not the writers intended for the character to be doing, means that there is a very strong incest subtext to the scene and that, in a weird way, "Azula" herself confirmed her motives to act the way she did.

[marcholasmoth]

OSRR: 2283

i did a bunch of work today. kinda exhausted.

i attended and took notes in class, i cleaned my room and went through my wardrobe to get rid of stuff in the first real clothing purge of the last like five years, and then i did all of the assignments that were due for earth science before 6pm, which was weird for me bc i usually do them after everything else during the day. but i had time, so i did them early. i also listened to two sections of math lecture, so i can do homework for that section tomorrow, and maybe get a head start on the rest of my exhaustive list of homework for each day of the rest of the semester. quite literally, i made a list. numbered it, put in all of my assignments and when i'd do them, so i have it all laid out in front of me so i can keep to the schedule, because if i fall behind any more i will not finish the semester. but i have to, and i have to have something to show to my professor tomorrow to let her know i'm not giving up, but that instead it's my mental inertia that is really preventing me from being productive. mental inertia is what i'm calling my brain's unwillingness to do a single fuckin thing on any given day. because of the definition and practical understanding of inertia, it means though that if i want it to move, i have to move it myself. i have to push it. because that's really what i'm dealing with - an unwilling blob of disaster that has a decent ability to function if it ever gets off its ass. so i need the motivation to push that blob until it starts sliding. lots of principles of physics here: inertia, forces, static and kinetic friction. yknow, the drill.

anyway, i'm proud of myself for today, even though it feels like i missed doing stuff. breaking things down into specific details helps me, so having a day-by-day calendar that goes line by line telling me what i need to do on a given day will help me push my dumbass brain into gear. it's a variation, i suppose, on the block method of task organization andrew tells his clients about. sticky notes worked for a semester. a detailed planner worked really well for a semester. so now, straight-up pads of paper will have to work for the rest of the semester. i need to rotate my methods so i don't get complacent and ignore things, like i can easily do if things are uniform and are exactly the same. which is why a list is easier i guess, because yes it's all supposed to look the same, but it's a different visual thing than a wall of brightly-colored sticky notes that end up blending into the faded yellow wall. which is a problem i have. so. i'd like to go back to the planner thing, but that also worked best when i was on campus and not stuck at home for school stuff.

also i talked to joel a little bit today. sort of a normal interaction: he asked me if i wanted to fight, i begged for death, he said no, i said why, he gave some bullshit answer, then we changed the topic. kinda funny tbh, that's sort of our way of checking in on each other. it allows me to actually tell him how i'm feeling, and while he doesn't give up much information himself, a lot of it is supporting me and my nonsense and buffoonery as i simply exist as a ball of Anxiety™ that stress-cleans and vibrates in place as i contemplate the tasks i must complete. today was an anxiety day, so i told him. [it's nice to tell someone things about my emotional state and for them to take me and what i say at face value instead of trying to break me down into pieces of "drama" and "not drama," because that's what my mom does. if i feel too much, her first response is "what's real and what's drama," or "you're being dramatic," or some other equally bullshit gaslighting of my emotional state that's fuckin fragile in the first place. like, listen linda. "what's real" all of it. "what's drama" none of it, you moldy peach pit. i feel what i feel, and you are not allowed to tell me that what i'm feeling isn't real, so shut your mouth and sit the fuck down, you melted stick of unsalted butter.] but yeah. joel actually listens and i love the shit out of him for it.

and lastly, i watched a christmas movie. by myself. before thanksgiving. but. in my defense, it was about a struggling writer at a writing conference who ends up repeatedly unknowingly bumping into the keynote speaker, a published author of whom she happens to be a fangirl in increasingly embarrassing situations at first. and then they're paired as writing buddies for the conference, and he gives her pointers and they banter and work together and it's just really cute and the Drama occurs when he's trying to tell her he's the author but she keeps rushing to go somewhere and it's the keynote and the author walks in and it's HIM. THE DRAMA. THE BETRAYAL. THE YEARNING. and then he comes to her dad's house and surprises her on christmas day with a letter from a publisher bc her revised copy of her manuscript was really good bc of all the help he gave her and the experiences they shared and all the good stuff and she said it was basically a happy ever after, to which he replied, "i guess it is." and then she says, "so kiss me already," and points to the mistletoe above them and it's SO CUTE AND SWEET AND I ALMOST CRIED.

but anyway, i feel like a hypocrite because christmas!! shouldn't!! happen!! before!! thanksgiving!! that's!! a!! rule!! and i HATE IT when people put up christmas decorations in early november, but at this point i'm accepting that it's something that gives people joy so i really shouldn't step on that. it's just. learning to accept that people enjoy certain things and i should encourage them instead of rag on them for it. i'm not perfect. i'm still learning. and i want to be a kinder person to people, more loving and accepting and supportive, and i'm slowly overcoming my own hatred of things as i grow and distance myself further from the shit that made me this way. i'm learning! if i make a mistake please tell me gently, because i want to be better but i also have RSD and i WILL shut down and tear myself down forever if i am told harshly bc that's just how i am. i'm trying to get over it a little at a time by accepting things as time goes on, but in the meantime i need help. so that's all, i guess.

thanks for reading and for caring, i love you guys and i hope you're enjoying things that being you joy, even if other people give you shit for it. i will do my best to support you!

also if you're in the US and are of voting age and are registered and haven't already voted, GO VOTE TOMORROW. some states have same-day registration, so bring an ID and go register if you need to. this election will determine our futures - i know so many of us are in circumstances that would be harmed if we had another four years of the racist orange peel in office now, so i know many others who may straight-up die because of it. we need protections. we need to have our rights protected. we need to have our lives protected. and we can't do that with the damaged candy corn in office for any longer. he'a already fucked with us enough. we can't afford any more of it. now i'm just angry ranting. please, go vote for joe biden. politics is like public transit: if there's no train going exactly where you need to go, you don't just not get on the train. you take the one that gets you the closest, and work your way from there. that's joe biden. and, if biden does indeed win, our fights aren't over. we have people we need to protect from the conservatives and racists and white supremacists that exist goddamn everywhere. we need to keep reminding people that it's our responsibility to take care of one another in every way we can. there's a laundry list of things that needs to be fixed; unfortunately they won't happen all at once. so we have to keep fighting, no matter who's in office. VOTE.

VOTE.

[overdrivels]

Impressions

Man, I think this’ll be the first time I write something using pronouns of my own accord. I don’t know if anyone’s ever noticed, but I’ve worked actively in most of my writings here (and in TWtaH) to never allude to gender or physical appearance. Forgive me just this once, I really want to indulge.

I didn’t proofread this, I just wanted to fight writer’s block and write something really, really self indulgent. I’m really not strong enough to abstain or to control my own bullshit. It’s like 4k of unorganized thoughts loosely strung together.

——

You came to the Watchpoint one chilly summer night, wearing a proud grin that the heavy pelting rains could not wash off. The upward turn of your lips stood out in sharp contrast to the deep droop of your loose clothes, more vessels for water than for you. Over the sounds of thunder you had boldly declared to everyone who came to see who was so brave and foolish as to come during this weather: “I’ve come to save you from yourselves.”

First impressions are everything, the clan had taught him that. But Overwatch taught him people are more than their first impressions. 

Hanzo’s impression of you, the first (tracking mud and rain water on freshly cleaned floors), second (curled in the corner of the kitchenette, asleep and blocking the way to the kettle), and onward (not bothering to change after spilling coffee all over yourself, sleeping just anywhere you please and on anyone you please and at any time you please), was as lousy as the last.

‘Slovenly’ would be a good word to describe you and the way you carry yourself. Everything you did was haphazard and barely put together in the way that Hanzo would've been scolded and beat for as a youth.

Placed side-by-side, it's clear you're exact opposites. Hanzo, while approaching the end of his midlife crisis at a breakneck speed, still maintained some of the decorum that shadowed the immaculate side of himself that he had worn everyday for most of his life. You, on the other hand, looked like you rolled out of bed regardless of occasion without a care in the world or for how anyone might see you. It vexes him that people could call you a 'hero' or find comfort in your existence looking and acting the way you do.

Even McCree and the Junkers have more tact than you who sits in on the meeting in your pajamas and a crumpled parka meant to cover the fact that you were not wearing proper pants. At least they look battle-ready. You look like you're four seconds away from rolling back into bed.

"--we will require everyone's attendance. There will be many dignitaries present,”--Hanzo does not miss the way Winston seems to look at you—“so we ask you please be on your best behavior. The dress code is, of course, white-tie formal, though your tie may be whatever color you wish." 

Winston chuckles a bit at his own joke, though it falls flat in the face of everyone else who seems more dismayed than anything at having to attend a formal party doing, arguably, the opposite of their jobs. 

Hanzo can't help but glance over at you. Your head rests precariously on your palm, elbow threatening to slip out from beneath the weight. You're barely even trying to pay attention. 

The thought sends an exasperated fire through Hanzo's veins and he forces himself to look away. His old habits of correcting people and instilling discipline were coming back to haunt him in spades. If he keeps paying too much attention to your lackadaisical manner, he fears he'll lose all the progress he's made since he's joined Overwatch--he'll relapse and soon have a sword in hand again. 

Luckily neither of your paths crossed often. He still has no idea what you do. Your hours are unusual. You do not go on missions with them. You do not participate in combat drills. You do not voice your opinion on anything during meetings and no one mentions your seemingly lack of participation. Instead, you’re usually locked in your own room or get chauffeured around by Lena, disappearing for weeks at a time before returning with things like a golf bag or suitcase meant for vacationing. It's unclear how you're meant to 'save them from themselves' when you do nothing of value in the first place. 

It’s good that he barely sees you except for times like these when everyone’s collective presence is required. Neither of you have so much as exchanged more than a sentence, but he’s overheard you jabbering once or twice that didn’t change his mind that you were useless and an irritating existence. 

Beneath his skin, the dragons draw a slow, undulating spiral. Restless, but comfortable, drawing his attention away from the reminder that he is still no better of a person than he was before. 

Winston explains the expected attendees of the party. All of them are high-profile figures with significant influence over their own spheres of influence. There are specific people he would like them to get on good terms with: the head of the United Nations; leaders of specific human rights movements; leaders of countries with pro-omnic rights. All agents should remain in groups and only designated people should seek conversations with specified individuals.

The most important thing is to project the image that Overwatch is back and united. Gaining support is just a parallel mission. 

Everyone is dismissed, the weight of the briefing dragging down their moods. It’s a high stakes mission with a lot of risk. Throwing all of them unsupervised and untrained into this situation is too reckless.

For the sake of Overwatch, he hopes you'll at least wear something appropriate. Watching you leave the meeting with your lazy shuffling, and shoulders slumped to the point your parka is struggling to remain on your person, he has some serious reservations.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Lucio delicately readjust your parka like you’re a child to be looked after. The DJ had mentioned he took care of kids in his neighborhood--a natural big brother figure--so it’s natural for him to notice such things and take it into stride. Even so, there’s a limit to these activities.

You're an adult. He does not know your exact age, but he knows you should be old enough to not require the pampering of others. Snorting to himself, he turns away, determined not to let your existence bother him. 

But that proves difficult. 

The day of the party looms over everyone’s heads, rapidly drawing near. Tensions are palpable. Agents run to and fro, fretting over what is appropriate to wear and how to act that wouldn’t embarrass or threaten Overwatch’s existence. 

While Hanzo isn’t worried about how to act during the party, one thing does weigh on his mind. You. 

He hadn’t seen you since that meeting ended, explaining the party, and it’s already the eve of. He was too busy helping the other agents figure out their attires and manners to care, but now that most of that is sorted, he realizes he hasn’t seen hide nor hair of you. 

It’s not that he cares. He doesn’t. Not about you anyway. 

Winston tells him, “She’ll meet us at the party, not to worry. Her current mission will end just as the party starts."

"Current mission? I was not aware she did any work." If Winston noticed the amount of malice in those words, he didn't say anything about it. Ana, though, laughs into her hand. 

"Oh yes, she does a lot for Overwatch. Not that you and everyone else doesn't, of course! Her activities are a little different than ours, so I haven't had a chance to pair her with anyone here so far. But rest assured, everyone is doing their parts to help."

It doesn't answer his question and Hanzo's not sure if Winston is being purposefully evasive. Not that the scientist has a single deceitful bone in his large body. 

"And what exactly does she do?" 

"Now, now. Let's save that for later." Ana steps in between them both. "We have other things to worry about. Did you study up on your target?"

"Of course." 

He's memorized the dossier on the person he is supposed to make contact with at the party. She is the head of a for-profit charity organization. While her operations are small, they receive a considerable amount of support and boast of a large network of benefactors that Overwatch themselves can benefit from. He has no plans to mess this up. 

"Very good. You're dismissed then." There's a hardness to her eye that forbids any further backtalk and Hanzo has no choice but to withdraw and ponder on the nature of your job. 

In the end, he has to believe that you wouldn't be an embarrassment to Overwatch, especially not during their first public debut. No matter how unkempt you are normally, he knows you take your job seriously. Winston said as much and Hanzo has never once actually heard anyone complain about you. It's the only reason his irritation hasn't gotten the better of him. 

—

The party itself is rather impressive, on par with the ones that he attended when he was still considered the scion of the Shimada clan. The hall is large and well decorated with arched ceilings and a live orchestra filling every crevice with music. 

Paparazzi are ready for them, swarming immediately as soon as they step out of their rented hoverlimo. It takes the combined efforts of himself, McCree, Fareeha, Zarya, Roadhog, and Soldier: 76 to part the crowd and get into the venue.  

Many of the guests are distinguished. Hanzo recognizes many of them as leaders of countries, a few as CEOs of national companies, A-list celebrities and holovideo personalities. Overwhelmingly political, though. 

Dr. Zhou seems uncomfortable with the attention, shying away from conversation and making herself as small as possible. Winston is right beside her, equally awkward despite the gungho attitude he had about it in the beginning. At least they have Zarya and Fareeha with them to detract from any unwanted conversation. 

Surprisingly, Reinhardt and Soldier: 76 blend right into the crowd, making pleasantries like it’s second nature. Even Ana is taking a large brunt of conversations relating to Overwatch, stepping in gracefully when needed, standing down and merely watching with an unapproachable aura when she wasn’t. 

There are others who seem to disappear in the crowd. Satya, Genji, and McCree all seem to have made themselves scarce. Not that he has any room to talk--he’s made himself a home behind one of the many pillars in the back of the hall where he has a great view of most of the venue.  

Everyone else is prim and proper and their suits and dresses as though it didn’t take them all about six hours to get ready. 

In the back of his mind, he thinks it would be better if you couldn’t make it. 

Not even an hour into the party, some commotion by the door catches his attention. Paparazzi, likely sensing the presence of a scoop, all swarm toward the arching entryway, excited murmurs buzzing throughout the hall. What could possibly get the attention of all these vultures?

He's half-curious, but he suddenly has his hands full running after Junkrat who decides he no longer likes his bowtie or the fact that the first four buttons of his shirt are closed. 

It takes him a little while with McCree’s and Zenyatta’s help to calm Junkrat down--and he never realized just how tall the man was until he had to wrestle the Junker to the ground. By the time he’s done fixing himself up, the paparazzi crowd has dispersed and his hand is now occupied with champagne instead of rowdy children. He scans the crowd, seeking out his target for sweet talking. 

But someone else catches his eye. 

A figure in a dress no more fancier or elegant than any other attendee’s, but there’s just something about how the person holds themselves that gives him pause and puts him on edge as though the claws of a particularly dangerous animal were pressed against his neck. 

Hanzo damn near drops his champagne glass in surprise when he’s able to put a name to the face. 

It's you.

He has to do a double take and squint. 

No, he has to be dreaming. This is a dream. 

But no matter how much blinked or tried to clear his vision, you remain with the exception that you are more regal and composed than any time he's ever seen you. It's as though he's never known you at all. And maybe he doesn’t. 

At his elbow, McCree whistles, catching your attention. Even your smile is refined, thinned and polite. You seem to politely fend off all the interested parties with ease and make your way over, shoulders held back and chin lifted, each step sure and crisp. Even your footsteps radiated authority and an unshakeable confidence not normally found in your daily life. 

Up close, he can see you put immense thought into your appearance. Your make-up is sharp and meticulous. The dress is well suited to your figure and skin. Everything is composed to give you a fierce presence that cannot be ignored even by laymen. If he had to put your appearance into one word, it would be “beautiful”. 

Why you never pay attention to your appearance normally is beyond him. 

"You clean up nicely," McCree remarks as he hands you an extra glass of champagne. Gingerly, you take it between your fingers, tilting your head just so in appreciation with the crinkle of your eyes to match. Natural, but calculated. "What's your secret?"

Simply, you reply, "I had help.” Then: “You look great, yourself. I’m not sure if I like the rugged look or this side of you more. Both are handsome.” 

“Much obliged.” 

Clinking your glasses together, you raise yours at Hanzo. Autopilot kicks in and Hanzo politely meets your glass with his. Words escape him and a sip of champagne fills the void.

It cannot be you. You, who shows up to meetings in pajamas. You, who slouched on every sittable surface like it was your personal couch. You, who can’t even be bothered to put your clothes on right without someone else fixing it for you. 

But you’re right here, making small talk with McCree like you were meant to. 

“Hanzo, you look great, too. Very gorgeous.” 

“Not as much as you,” he responds almost automatically. He clenches his jaw and hopes that he doesn’t look as panicked as he feels. This situation is just too strange. 

Your eyes twinkle and you laugh. It sends a shiver down his spine. The sounds of something dangerous draws near and the sense of danger against his back presses itself harder against him. “Silver tongues everywhere. But I appreciate it. How are you enjoying the party?” 

“As much as anyone else.” 

“Not at all, then.” 

“Come on, when are we ever going to have such fancy food?” McCree says, waving at the trays of hor d'oeuvres being carted around by bots. 

“Soon, if our mission goes well.” 

Again, you give him a look that he’s wary of. 

Just what have you been doing all this time to be able to look like this? You seem to have no problems blending in to the crowd here as though you belonged with them. If he didn’t know you were a part of Overwatch, he would’ve mistaken you for a target. 

He’s reminded of the few mafia bosses he’s met in life who would greet him wearing jinbei instead of the expensive suits Hanzo was accustomed to seeing. People with so much power that they don’t care about appearances anymore-they have nothing to prove to anyone. 

Are you the same? Or was the Watchpoint just your way of unwinding? 

Soon, Lena and her girlfriend join the conversation. Lena looks delighted at your appearance, a large grin spreading across her face. 

"Lookin' fancy, love. Was wondering if you’d even make it."

"Thank you, Lena. And is this Emily? I've heard so much about you, Lena just won't stop gushing." 

“What does she say?” 

“Hey, hey! Ix-nay on the irlfriendgay.”

Seeing this side of you puts him off kilter. He’s not quite sure how to reconcile the image of you that he’s accustomed to and the person in front of him. He’s used to people hiding their true natures and donning personas, but this contrast is just too jarring.

Luckily, he finds his break when he spies his target and with an “Excuse me” makes his way to her. He doesn’t turn back lest he makes a further fool of himself. 

“Are you enjoying the party, Argus Twenty?” he asks. 

The omnic’s lights blink as though scanning her memory bank for his face, but seemingly comes up empty. “Very much so. And whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

“Shimada, Hanzo. Overwatch. At your service.” He bows slightly at the waist. “I have heard a lot about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.”

“Only the best. I’ve been meaning to speak to you about your work and if there was anything Overwatch can do to help. We seem to be of similar ventures.” 

Even without facial expressions, he could tell she’s smiling. “In that case—” 

It’s much easier than he expects to talk to her. She’s refreshingly straightforward and objective, presenting her troubles and solutions with tact. He even gets her to speak of the power dynamics and relationships in her organization, and how they could help each other. 

Somehow, he feels like he already knows her. 

The time passes easily (as does his mission). 

When Argus leaves, she gives him her business card, inviting him to the restaurant that is the organization’s main headquarters. Hanzo promises to visit to further build on this relationship. Now he can tell Winston they’ve secured another means to support. Another job well done.

As he searches for Winston, he sees suspicious movements from the corner of his eye. It’s Mei and Hana, cornered by someone who looks to be twice their age combined. He can’t exactly see who it is, but he can tell the two are uncomfortable. 

"I want to hear all about it. My villa is open to you ladies anytime."

“Thank you, we’ll have to check our schedules.”

“Oh, but I insist. I’m sure you can free up some time.”

No one else is close enough to interfere. He resigns himself to what would undoubtedly be a difficult time. Squaring his shoulders, he raises his head, donning the air of authority that he once wore like a second skin and makes swift strides toward the trio, fully intending on breaking up the one-sided 'conversation'. 

Someone else bears him to the punch. 

"Have you been hiding from me all night?"

Your smile is dazzling as you smoothly and loudly interject, extend a free hand toward the man. "Mr. Drumph, what about my invitation? We haven't spoken since that time in Washington, beginning to think you've forgotten about me."

The man's face screws up into a tight smile. 

"Long time, my friend!" He grasps your hand with both of his, giving it a firm shake. "Was just inviting these ladies to my villa. Great views. Great food. Nothing better. You’re invited, too, of course."

“Of course. When’s a good time for you? I’m fully booked for the next five months, but I will clear my schedule for you, just tell me when.” 

“You know, if I could just get those lobbyists off my back, I could probably do two weeks from now.”

You tsk, a derisive smile on your face. "From the OmniCore, right? I could lend you a hand, you know. They do owe me for that one case, you know, with LumeriCo?"

"That’s right, LumeriCo. You have connections with them, don’t you?” 

“I can arrange for that right now. Give you some breathing room for a month.” You take out your communicator, already texting. “You know, I remember your golf course is near your villas. I would love for you to show me your short game again. Maybe even invite Sam this time.” 

“Sam? Remind me again...”

“President of HardBank.” A guiding hand turns the man around, gesturing at some vague figure in the crowd. You shoot a look at the frozen Mei and Hana, gesturing with your eyes for them to make their escape. 

The two give you a thumbs up, shuffling away. 

“Oh, yeah, her. She was involved in the acquisition fiasco with BioTech—” 

“We all benefited from it. I think she can lend us a hand this time, too. HardBank’s the main sponsors of OmniCore. I’m sure she can call things off for a bit. Come with me to the bar, I see you could use another drink. Have you ever tried a boilermaker?” 

The two of you slowly start to walk, drifting into the thick of the party like old friends, Mei and Hana quickly forgotten. Hanzo watches as more and more people begin to take notice, likely seeing Mr. Drumph's presence at your side as permission to approach. It’s not long before you’re laughing it up and chatting with other, equally powerful figures. You blend right in with them, feeding them the same poison they dish out. 

The sight is painfully familiar. 

Hanzo stands there, determined not to feel impressed by your handling of the situation and instead goes to check on the two. 

— 

As the party winds down, Hanzo finds you resting in one of the more secluded areas of the venue. Even half-hidden like this, you’re still sitting with your back straight and eyes sharp, ready to jump straight back into the socialite persona you’ve displayed this entire evening. 

Wordlessly, he hands you a juice which you take without looking at him. 

“Thank you.” 

He says nothing, looking down at your head and studying your features. 

Truly. If you dressed like this and acted like this all the time, he wouldn’t have wasted his time worrying about you and the potential shame you would bring upon Overwatch. Now he feels liek a fool for having been concerned in the first place. Winston would not call back anyone who isn’t qualified to do their jobs, and Overwatch, despite being defunct and having lost its way prior to the Fall, did employ some of the most brilliant of each field. It serves to reason that you are no different in that regard. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask quietly.

“Hm. I just was not aware you had experience in something such as politics. It’s a bad hobby.” 

"There is no good or bad in politics. Just self-interests."

"I am inclined to disagree."

"Disagree then. It doesn't change the fact that I get more done at golf courses and resorts than in an office."

"And what exactly have you done for Overwatch?"

You raise a pointed eyebrow as if asking if he were serious. A sly, calculated smile slowly worms its way into your face. There's a new shine in your eyes, mischievous and mocking. 

"If you don't know, then there's no need to worry yourself about it."

Translation: Your lowly rank does not permit you to know. 

Before he has a chance to retort, Winston jumps in, seemingly a little more tipsy than when Hanzo first saw him.

“Please allow me to explain then.” Winston puts his finger in the air. "Overwatch is currently in need of financial and political support. We can continue doing our deeds, but there’s a risk it won’t be perceived well. We needed someone to handle that side for us, hence…” He gestures at you, nearly hitting you in the face, and the party. “All this.”

It's true. None of them are suited for the tedious backdoor dealings of the political world. Hanzo is the closest candidate, but his ties mean nothing here. (Not that he wants them to in the first place.) And he can’t think of anyone else who would be willing to spend the time cultivating these relationships. 

“Cat’s out of the bag then.” You smile that well-practiced smile, swirling your juice. "I've been a political aide for a long time. When Winston asked me to come back, I spent months going around and establishing political ties. Now I handle most of Overwatch's advocacy. Your good deeds will only go so far. To change a corrupt system, it's best to either dismantle it or take control of it."

"And which are you doing?"

The flute touches your lips and your smile turns sly. "Which do you think, Mr. Shimada?" A sip of your drink prevents you from answering. Not that he was expecting it, not after seeing what you do. 

“Hm.”

“Well, don’t worry about it too much. As long as you accomplish your mission, there’ll be plenty of opportunity for you to get involved in mine.” 

You laugh and instantly go back to your professional self, having spotted another target of yours. Excusing yourself, you approach a couple with smooth compliments and sinister whispers as you attempt to secure another backdoor deal. 

Again, Hanzo tries not to be impressed with the words coming out of your mouth and the ease with which you wield these promises. 

Truly, his impressions were wrong. 

— 

Hanzo sees you again at the Watchpoint, weeks after the party. 

You're back to your usual self, dragging a blanket around your waist, probably in lieu of actual pants. Unconsciously, a disgusted noise escapes his throat. But he doesn’t forget that beneath that sloppy facade is the mind of a person willing to put themselves at political risk for Overwatch and that whatever his impressions of you are, they’re wrong.

But it’s hard not to go back to being annoyed with you now that he’s had a glimpse of what you could really be.

First impressions are lasting, after all.