#since those are the two established couples of the season

[sade-alicious]

details in stranger things are so cool to me and honestly validating whenever i think im reaching

bc these are the boardgames in mikes basement (from top-down)

the happy little train game - referring to the train tracks in the woods

score four - the main party

family feud - the wheeler “nuclear and unstable” family

upwords - theyre in the right-side-up (sounds like upwards)

[bunnys-kisses]

For your halloween special, can i have all dressed chips, with a espresso Martini by max verstappen plssss

halloween menu - bakery menu

spooky scary post-halloween submission! thank you so much for the request. it has been fun to write this one, so i hope that you love it. i know that the spooky season is over, but we can probably have a little more halloween magic until christmas, haha!

all-dressed chips: "i'd propose right now. but not while you're wearing this." + espresso martini: dom!character served by max verstappen (formula one)

tags: smut/pwp, dom & mad!max, driver!reader, established relationship, car sex (sort of), fingering/clit teasing & oral sex (reader receives)

"you can't laugh at this." you said as you zipped up the driver's suit to your neck. you looked in the mirror before you shushed your teammate. you turned in the mirror a little, "oh he's gonna freak when he sees this."

daniel laughed into his fist and you shushed your teammate before you turned to him and away from the mirror. the driving suit was so much baggier than yours. especially in the shoulders and thighs. you knew that if the team found out about this, they would lose it.

they were very particular with where the drive suit of the great max verstappen was at all times. and currently it was on your body as you and your teammate rushed to his car before you ended up at a halloween party in austin.

to be a couple on two separate teams often led to a flurry of discussions and rumors. you had about four pregnancy rumors happen oven the course of the season. that didn't mention the three cheating rumors (that was your cousin that photo) or the five secret wedding rumors. you hated those ones the most because they always made it seem like your wedding choices were tacky.

but tonight, you were thankful there were no press members lurking around the house that was rented out by the mclaren team for the austin weekend. and since it was close enough to halloween, that meant the drivers and others could have a party. and while it wasn't a dress up party, you took it upon yourself to have the best costume.

your teammate, daniel, was dressed a cowboy. you even remarked, 'you might give me a run for my money tonight." as you looked in the mirror to see if your lip gloss was ended up above your lip. he laughed and the two of you got out of the parking lot before the gate to the track was closed.

-

at the house, you spotted max waiting outside with his arms crossed and leaned up against the gate. when he saw you get out of the car, he was instantly over to you. it wasn't until he got closer that he noticed that you were wearing his driver suit.

he laughed, "you look so amazing." he scooped you up in his arms and looked at you with a smile, "very authentic."

you giggled, "it's a red bull original."

max looked at you, "i..is that my suit?"

you nodded, "yeah, well worn today and everything." you felt max hold onto you a little tighter and you got your hands into the front of his t-shirt. you looked at him, "i wanted to be the best dressed."

he swallowed then laughed, "well, i think it's a mission accomplished." he could feel the swirl in his gut.

daniel piped up after he locked the car doors, "what about me, max?" he laughed, "i think i kill it tonight too, mate." then winked at his former teammate.

max laughed, "why did i have a feeling that you were going as a cowboy tonight?" then ushered you into the house against his worst judgement. the back of his mind was calling for him to stuck you in the backseat and make the car rock.

so much was covered, but to know that you were in max's gear turned him on. so the entire night his gaze was on you, his hand on your lower back and when he could, his lips on yours. a night of partying ended with max driving you back to your hotel room.

"show me what's under it? got my fireproofs on too?" he asked. his hand was on the zipper and trying to get it down while you drove him. you helped him and he caught a glimpse of your bra underneath.

"i'd propose right now. but not while you're wearing this." he laughed, "and not when there's a risk i'll crash the car." he did however snake his hand between your legs, "fuck, you're so warm."

you moaned as he managed to get under your panties and rub against your clit. the sensation made you jolt and he laughed.

"aw c'mon, my love. you're always so calm on the track? what's the problem now? can't handle a little fun?" it didn't help that the speed he was driving left after shocks through your body.

you were both on quiet back end roads in texas. no one around for a good while, so of course max could rev the engine a little bit while he stimulated your clit. the strength of a formula one driver was concentration and the ability to calculate many things at once.

for example max's rough thumb was against your clit, moving in motions that were making you a total mess in the car. his eyes were on the road and he was going over the speed limit so he could almost stimulate your achy sex. all while not crashing the car.

they could give him the wdc for that feat alone.

your heart was racing in your ears and your pussy soaked through your cotton panties. max knew if he smelled his suit the next morning, it was going to reek like your achy cunt. and he wouldn't mind racing like that.

"shit, max. ah." you groaned and you shifted your hips to get a better feeling of his rough fingers. you swallowed back a particularly loud moan to escape from your lips. you prayed, hoped that no one would find out about this. you didn't need that on the front pages.

"you sound so pretty when you're needy." he purred, "i love how you sound. i feel like i should spank you for stealing my suit, but stealing it is quite the feat i have to say. mmmm, pretty thing."

his words sent shocked through you as you felt the blush bloom in your cheeks with an erotic want. there was something about max verstappen that drove you insane.

eventually he pulled his fingers away from your soaked sex and licked the bit of wetness off his thumb and knuckle. he groaned a little before he pulled into a nearby closed gas station parking lot.

"get in the backseat." he said before he watched you scramble to the back and he followed after. he almost hit his head against the top of the sports car he was driving. you chest was heavy in the low light of the parking lot.

max tugged at the suit, almost ripping the zipper to get access to your soaked cunt. he pushed the crotch of the cotton panties to get access to your sex. you could feel everything tight as he was pulled, but max's tongue on your aching cunt made it all better.

his pace was messy with two of his fingers pushed inside of you for added pleasure. he was a messy eater when he ate you out and you weren't too sure how much time you'd have before someone drove by. the car rocked a little as he pleasured you.

"fuck, ah, max." you didn't know this would've given him such a response. but, you loved it. you loved how his tongue felt against your achy cunt. you had been thinking about him during the party because he was in your space so much.

he groaned against your pussy, your wetness was up to his nose and almost at his cheeks. he went all in when it came to oral sex, that was why it made it so easy for you to climax because of him.

you moaned a little louder and held onto his hair for a moment as you felt the climax wash over you. the feeling hit you like a ton of bricks and it made you hot all over. you felt the fire in your gut as he made you feel on cloud nine.

"oh my god." you panted heavily as he smirked against your soaked pussy before he looked up at you. you could see the glisten of your wetness across his face.

"i'm not done with you yet. let's see how durable this suit really is." he chuckled as you heard the unzip of his jeans.

-

being in red bull's head office the morning after a party was never a good thing. it was a situation most tried to avoid being. but as you sat with daniel and max across from horner and mekies wasn't a way to start the morning.

"can we at least get coffee." you groaned.

"no." horner replied.

apparently max's racing suit went missing last night. only to be found in your hotel room this morning. daniel was in the office for abetting in the theft. you wanted to die when christian showed the three of you the pictures of the stains on the suit. daniel hid his mouth behind his hand, to not make a very funny (yet very mean comment). you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes and prayed for a moment that you'd go blind.

"this will result in a fine and community service." which made the three of you groan. the media was going to have a field day with this one <3

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃: 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: in a world where androids have been established in everyday life, it should not come as a surprise to find one setting up shop next to you. shouto, however, seems to have a mind of his own, especially when he does things you are sure are not part of his programming. it begs the question, is there a line where programming ends and humanity starts?

pairing: android! shouto x florist! reader (gn) 

warnings: fluff/ slice of life; assault (not described in graphic detail), no beta readers (this isn’t the omegaverse)

a/n: i have returned!! this was originally meant to be my piece for @andypantsx3's pretty boy summer collab (go check it out!) tbh, i have so many hcs about these two now ♡

bnha masterlist

It was a rather pleasant morning, with the sun not scorching down on the few pedestrians out and about, as you walked to work. You wouldn’t say you were as susceptible to the hot season as others, nonetheless you were grateful it wasn’t sweltering quite yet. Still, you preferred the temperatures of the day over the incessant chill the night brought.

Leaving the shade of the automatically operated parasol spanning the pedestrian crossing, your gaze was automatically drawn to the forest green of your shop’s awning standing out against the city’s backdrop. With habitual ease, your mind started running through your tasks for the day until your attention was caught by movement around the storefront directly next to yours.

Ever since you had started your florist business, the building next to yours had been empty. Occasionally, potential tenants had come to inspect it, but nothing had ever become of those visits. Now it appeared as if someone had taken up shop there, if the minimalist sign out front was anything to go by.

Swiping your wrist over the scanner partially covered by the flower shelves displaying plants less susceptible to heat, the temperate air from inside welcomed you in and a voice command later ambient music floated through the humble room. There was still a bit of time before you’d be open for business, so you thought now would be as good a time as any to introduce yourself to the new face around.

After a bit of consideration, you picked up a small plant and selected a fitting pot for the little fellow before taking a breather and smoothing down your clothes. Then, with your welcoming gift in hand, you entered the shop, the layout of which mirrored yours. But instead of shelves with lush plant life, there wasn’t much to be found here at all, except for a few tools and spare parts strewn across what you thought to be the counter. Rustling could be heard from the room behind it. 

“Hello?” You tentatively called out, hands fidgeting with the ceramic between your palms as you watched dust particles floating through the streaks of morning sun falling through the shop front.

At your announcement, the noises stopped and someone appeared in the doorway. And the sight knocked all breath from your lungs. The man in front of you was gorgeous, probably the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Two striking, hetero chromic eyes, one steel-grey and the other blue like a lagoon, studied you from under white and crimson strands as he crossed his lean arms over his chest. His symmetrical and flawless features coupled with his build would have made it hard to believe he was real if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. The only thing that could possibly be considered a flaw was what looked like a burn scar over his left eye, but even that did nothing to hinder his beauty. Actually, it somehow seemed to enhance it.

“Can I help you?” Of course his voice was smooth and rich too, the kind you could listen to for hours. His gaze flickered over to the planter in your arm. “I am sorry but I cannot fix that.”

“Fix it?” You questioned, confusion apparent on your face as you tried to follow the conversation that had only just started.

“Yes. I am a mechanic, so it is reasonable to assume people would come in to have something repaired.” The cadence of his voice had not wavered at all, his neutral tone making it hard to decipher whether he was joking or dead serious. “Seeing as the item you are bringing in is made up of organic matter, I cannot fix it.”

“Oh uhm.. That’s not–” You cleared your throat, sorting your thoughts with a shake of your head. Better to start this interaction on fresh soil. “I didn’t come over to have something repaired, I just wanted to introduce myself since I run the florist shop directly next to yours. I’ve never had a neighbour in the few years since I’ve started, so I just wanted to say hi to the new face around. Sorry for just barging in.”

“Given that the door was unlocked, your action cannot be considered ‘barging in’, as having people come inside is within the expectations for owning a shop.” Again, you weren’t sure if he was pulling your leg or if he was just a very factual person, but you thought his matter fact attitude was charming in its own way. “You stated you were here to introduce yourself. To my knowledge this constitutes the exchange of names. My name is Shouto.”

You gave him your name in return, then stepped forward and planted the pot on a free space of the counter. Watching for his reaction, his blue eye caught the sun’s rays and almost seemed to illuminate as he looked at the planter. “I brought this as a house -or well, shop- warming gift. It’s a jade pothos and really easy to care for, since it very clearly indicates its needs–”

“It tolerates a wide variety of temperatures and does well in indirect sunlight, though the solid green leaves of the jade variety make it best suited for low light among the pothos species. The watering schedule depends on the climate, yet the roots should not be kept too wet since they are subject to root rot,” Shouto spoke clearly, finishing your explanation for you. “Did I get that right?”

“Yeah! Wow, I’m impressed! Maybe I should have brought you a more advanced plant after all,” you laughed, happy to leave your gift in capable hands. “If it turns out you have a green thumb on top of all that knowledge, I might have to ask you to start working in my shop.”

Shouto stared at you and blinked, then brought up his hands to inspect his thumbs. “My fingers all seem to be of a fair complexion, so I must decline. I will notify you if this condition changes.”

Seriously, this guy was going to kill you and you couldn’t suppress an amused snort. “Sure, please do. Though I have to say, it’s been a while since I saw a mechanic. Most of the work seems to be taken care of by repair droids.”

“Someone has to repair the repair droids,” he replied. With anyone else, you would have read it as a joke but his line delivery remained so neutral, you weren’t sure he intended it as one.

“Fair enough,” you chuckled, fingers idly tapping along the wooden desk. “Gotta admit, I just expected another android to take care of that…”

When you looked at him again, there was no missing it this time. His left iris flickered blue, exactly like the processing unit in an android would when evaluating new information.

Oh. 

“I see how it is,” you sighed, smiling defeatedly. “At least my reasoning was sound, if this is anything to go by.”

“I cannot read your expression right now,” Shouto admitted openly, slightly tilting his head. “Are you upset? Uncomfortable?”

“No, I’m not much of anything right now,” you said, trying to figure out your feelings for yourself. Of course, you felt a little dumb not noticing it sooner, but in your defence, you’d only ever seen escort droids this gorgeous next to celebrities at fancy events. You yourself had never been in the market for one, considering you were neither lonely enough nor attending events formal enough. Besides, you weren’t in the pay class to buy one anyway. So your interaction with androids was generally limited to repair and maintenance droids as well as the courier drones zooming all over the city. Besides seeing this kind of model apparently working independently was odd in and of itself. “In any case, this doesn’t change anything.”

“It does not?” He inquired, sounding almost… curious?

“You’re still my new neighbour, after all.” The corners of your lips lifted, a little more uncertain than before, and you drummed the tips of your fingers against the surface of the counter while getting ready to leave. “Anyhow, I shouldn’t bother you any longer, I’m sure you still have a lot of stuff to set up. If you ever want to get your plant there a friend, you know where to find me. Until then, don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Being a stranger is impossible, since we have already exchanged personal information, such as our name and career path. According to social etiquette that makes us acquaintances.” Maybe you imagined it but it seemed as if there was a small smile tugging on his lips. “I have also compared your visit today with the definition of ‘bother’ and found no overlap.”

“Isn’t that a relief,” you mused before stepping into the morning sun again. “Good luck with the shop.”

Shouto watched as you waved at him through the dull glass of the storefront, the processing notification in the top right corner of his display still turning. Then his gaze fell on the green organism in front of him. It showed no signs of loneliness yet.

From then on out, Shouto and you were exactly as per his definition; acquaintances, nothing less but also nothing more. You made it a point to greet him when you ran into each other in the morning and he’d politely greet you back, as by the social norm, but the android never took the initiative in calling out to you. For some odd reason, this planted a seed of unease in your chest, which you couldn’t uproot but very well push aside. Shouto didn’t seem keen on sharing his identity with people, wearing long sleeves and gloves to hide any clues that might give him away and a very selfish part of you felt a guilty spark of pride for knowing better. It was wrong to feel satisfied by having knowledge someone wasn’t keen on sharing but feelings couldn’t be helped, could they?

Besides, what would you do once you overcame the  initial gap between you? Was that even a good idea? Well, you’d cross that bridge when you got there, you supposed.

This distanced dance around one another continued for a good while, until circumstance had other plans for you. One fateful morning, you swiped your hand over the censor to your shop, only to be hit by a swell of muggy air, every step inside making your clothes cling to your skin a little more. Notably, the usually faint but still audible whirring of your AC was absent and you groaned. Sure, the heat was unpleasant but ultimately not disastrous for you. The plants in your shop, however, would not take to it kindly for longer periods. 

Needless to say, you spent the entire morning dialling repair service numbers between attending to customers fanning themselves, but to no avail. With the way repair droids had seemingly popped out of the ground like daisies over the last decade or so, you were somewhat dumbfounded to hear nobody would be able to send someone to help fix your problem, even if your livelihood might depend on it. That was when your brain connected the right synapses to figure out a solution. 

After debating it for the rest of the morning, come your lunch break, you found yourself walking into a shop nearly identical to yours, just one door over. It wasn’t as empty as the first time you entered but you got the sense that Shouto wasn’t big on interior decoration past the most basic of furniture. You had timed your visit well though, apparent by the fact you were the only customer at the time. At the chime of the little bell over the door, there was rustling in the back, the clank of metal against something wooden, before a familiar figure appeared behind the counter.

“How may I help you?” Shouto asked neutrally, the statement rolling off his tongue like one of those retro voicemails people used to have way back when. Something akin to recognition crossed his face and you reminded yourself that those beautifully attentive eyes of his probably just compared you to a data bank of people he’d encountered before. “It is you.”

“I guess it is,” you awkwardly laughed at the blank statement. Your gaze shifted to your twiddling thumbs, flickered across the android’s face and then fell on a lush jade porthos sitting idly on the desk. “Uhm so, my AC broke some time tonight and I need it to maintain a prosperous environment for the plants but nowhere I called is free today. I wanted to ask if you could maybe take a look? I’ll pay you, of course.”

“Sure,” he agreed easily enough that it made you pause for a second. But before you could gather your thoughts, Shouto had already rounded the counter and joined you. “I am not specialised in air conditioning systems, but it should not pose a problem.”

And just like that you were showing him through your shop and to the back room, the mechanic completely unaffected by the sweltering heat stoked by the midday’s sun. If you hadn’t known he was an android, you would have had your suspicions the moment not a single bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Heterochromic eyes scanned your -admittedly not uptodate- technology before fixing on the AC unit nestled in between. 

Shouto examined the device briefly before doing something so interestingly peculiar, you were sure this was a part about him he didn’t show others all that often. In a stellar impression of a swiss army knife, the tip of his index finger gave way to a joint that was more screwdriver than anything else and he quickly unscrewed the cover to take a look at the wiring underneath. 

“It is only a minor issue,” Shouto said, effectively ripping you out of your daze. “I will be able to fix it without ordering any spare parts, which is good, since manufacturers have already stopped selling spare parts for this model.”

“Is this a subtle way of telling me to invest in a newer one?” You chuckled bashfully, well aware that the state of your electronics was probably laughable to an android as advanced as him. 

“I am merely stating the facts,” he replied. If it were another human, you would almost recognise his tone as teasing. But your straight-laced neighbour was most likely just running diagnostics on the optimal service life of your AC and booting up a cost-benefit analysis of buying a newer one. 

You watched him work with fascination, Shouto apparently completely undisturbed by your intrigued glances as his fingers worked over the wiring and circuits with mesmerising ease, speed and precision. Before you knew it, the AC sat back in its place fully assembled and contentedly whirring as it had been doing for years. With equal rapture your eyes were still following Shouto’s movement as he stood to his full height again, pulling his black gloves back over his hands. Tearing your gaze away from him, you brushed some plant soil off your clothes and cleared your throat. “So, how much is it going to be?”

“I will not be charging you for this,” Shouto said, shaking his head ever so slightly. “Please regard it as compensation for the plant you gave me.”

“The pothos was a gift, you know,” you chuckled, twisting your fingers together just to have them do something. Again you found it unexplainably difficult to keep eye contact with him and your gaze flitted about, trying to push away the realisation dawning on you. “The point of gifts is that you don’t owe people anything.”

Somewhen between watching Shouto work on your AC unit and trying to navigate this conversation, you had achieved a form of clarity on why you found it hard to keep him off your mind. The way your attention kept drawing back to him had nothing to do with him being the first humanoid android you’d met. It reminded you of the way your eyes always subconsciously locked onto the back of your crush’s head during classes a decades ago, in a way that was innocent and harmless. Unlike the feelings stigmatised by society which now tugged at your heartstrings. You could almost hear your parents scoffing at you for even considering having any sort of feelings for a pile of cold metal that just mimicked having human emotions.

“Then please regard this as a gift as well.” Dual toned eyes studied your face intently as he did last time as well and you convinced yourself that their beauty was helped by the fact that they were literally unreal. “And feel free to ask for my help again in the future. In comparison to human interactions, I find it easier to understand machines.”

“Well, that’s not surprising, is it?” And then you blurted out the worst thing you could have said. “It’s not like you’re familiar with real emotions that aren’t part of your coding.”

“Human emotions are largely caused by their brains releasing certain neurotransmitters upon receiving new information. You learn which situations are supposed to make you happy or should cause you stress as you grow up.” There was hardly any other description befitting of what you saw cast over his face other than pain and sadness. However, there was no surprise there, only muted resignation. Simply put, you could not attribute the cadence of his voice or the subtle shift in his expression to anything but genuine emotion. “I fail to see how that is so different from me being programmed to experience a response upon certain triggers being activated.”

Yeah, you immediately knew you fucked up. Not just by the heavy weight settling in your chest as you retraced the awfully insensitive phrasing you had tossed out mindlessly, but also by the way Shouto turned wordlessly and strode towards the front door. 

“Shouto, wait! I didn’t mean it like that–” You only heard the familiar ring of the door bell.

As the air in your shop slowly cleared of the oppressing air, your skin prickled more than it had in the heat standing there alone. And just like that, the shaky bridge between you went up in smoke.

For the next week, there was no response when you greeted Shouto in the morning and after that the greeting died on your tongue when you saw him. And it wasn’t like you could blame him for it either. You’d hurt him and it wasn’t your decision to make if he forgave you, no matter how much you wished to apologise earnestly. For now, all you could do was give him the space he needed and accept whatever conclusion he came to. It was the only fair thing for you to do.

Still, it was one of the things you were mulling over as you locked the shop one night. Some necessary organising had kept you longer than usual and you were considering your late dinner options with half a mind as you made your way home. The streetlights provided as much light as they could, but with the moon hidden behind a thick duvet of clouds, the streets were tinged a steely grey. Despite the bustling nightlife in other parts of the city, the roads here were nearly empty and desolate, the quiet only adding to the unnerving discomfort making the hair in the back of your neck raise. Shivering, you picked up the pace.

Some people claimed they had very accurate intuition, a sort of sixth sense for when things were about to go wrong. Perhaps you should count yourself among them, because you learnt there was a good reason why your gut feeling had you looking over your shoulder every other metre. You didn’t make it far on your way home until a strong hand yanked you off the pavement and into a dimly lit alleyway.

The next few minutes were a blur of your eyes frantically searching for a way out as your blood was pounding in your ears in time with your erratic heart beat. You didn’t even understand what the men in front of you wanted but you knew they were threatening you as you shrieked for them to let you go, trying to jerk your wrist from a grip made of iron. Your breathing became more and more laboured with panic and exertion, shutting your eyes and willing the images of what would happen to you out of your mind until– 

The resistance gave way and you nearly fell backwards from your struggle. Somehow you caught yourself amidst your stumbling but when you looked straight ahead, your mind didn’t quite catch up with your eyes. There was a flash of white and red, someone groaning in pain, the thud of bodies hitting the floor and then there was Shouto. He was calling your name as from underwater and you thought he was asking you if you could walk, to which you dazedly nodded.

A heavy arm wrapped around your middle but you found you didn’t feel caged this time, its weight rather comforting, as he led you down the familiar street. On autopilot, you opened the door of your shop and let him navigate you to a backroom. The secure familiarity of your surroundings managed to ease you  out of your brain and back into reality as you took in a shuddering breath.

You had known Shouto was there but, finally, you were actually aware of him in front of you, his clear eyes scanning you up and down. Maybe it was because you did not want to think about what had just happened or because seeing him in front of you reminded you of what you’d wanted to tell him for a while now, but the words left your mouth before you could completely think about them once again. “Shouto, I’m so sorry.”

“This situation is not your fault–”

“For what I said the last time we spoke, I mean,” you corrected yourself. As if willing your brain to form coherent sentences, you brought a hand up to rub at your temple. “I know I can’t take back what I told you but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to be offensive. Not that that makes it any better or in any way okay.”

When you dared to look back at Shouto for his reaction, you found that his gaze wasn’t quite meeting yours, his eyes instead focusing on something just shy of them. It took you a few seconds to realise that he was looking at the hand that had come up to rest next to your face, attention continuously following it as you brought it in front of your chest.

“You are hurt. I will download a first aid protocol,” he merely said, his tone unreadable to you. You couldn’t be sure if he was quite aware of his actions as he reached forward to take your hand into his. The synthetic skin of his fingers, however, was tinged with the coldness of the night air in a way you weren’t expecting and it made you flinch away from his hold. At this point you were certain you were the only person who continued to paint that pained expression on his fair features. “Sorry, I did not–”

“No, uhm it’s okay, you just startled me a little, that’s all,” you tried to reassure him, gingerly holding your arm out to him again. This time around, he carefully studied your face before he slid his smooth palm under your calloused one to lift your wrist level with his studious eyes. 

While the texture of his hand imitated human skin, there was unmistakably less give to it, proof of the fact that whatever was underneath was harder than bones. It didn’t frighten you in the slightest, not when it was Shouto. Only in contrast with his gentle hold did it register how much your wrist throbbed with residual pain from where the man had gripped you with so much excessive force.

“I was well aware that humans were fragile beings,” Shouto mumbled, seemingly more so to himself than to you, as a light flickered behind his left iris. “But it has never bothered me as much as it does right now. Why?”

The atmosphere in your shop had shifted so seamlessly you would hardly notice it if it wasn’t for the sudden urge to whisper in order not to shatter it. With your hand still in his, you asked the question that had been burning in your mind for a long time. “Shouto, who are you?”

It was obvious he wasn’t one of those crudely shaped repair or service droids, which had originally led you to believe he was an escort droid, especially considering just how handsome his striking features were. You’d thought the dual-toned hair and eyes were a feature meant to attract attention and allure people with their mesmerising appearance, but the discoloured skin around his left eye seemed to tell a different story.

The events of this night cast another layer of doubt over your rationalisation. Earlier, what startled you hadn’t been the material of his hand but how cool it was to the touch. Escort droids normally had some kind of component that imitated the warmth of human skin, so as to not break the immersion. Certainly, whatever Shouto’s purpose had been before moving into a neglected shop had not required him to pose as human on contact. It apparently had, however, required him to know fighting techniques as you remembered the scene in the alley. Now that the first wave of shock had worn off, you could picture clearly how he had knocked your attackers out swiftly. Another thing an escort droid's programming would not allow him to do.

Shouto sighed deeply despite technically not needing to, his eyes fluttering shut and hiding whatever emotion you could have seen in them. “You might not like what I would have to tell you if you ask that.”

“It’ll be fine as long as it's the truth, I promise.” Hoping to show him that you wouldn’t be going anywhere, you laced your fingers together, fingertips brushing against synthetic knuckles. “But I want to get to know you more, learn about your past and your experiences and your view on things. I want to know where the two of us are different and where we are alike”

“Are you saying you want to progress past being acquaintances?” By now Shouto was blinking at you again, his head tilted slightly sidewards in what you interpreted as curiosity.

“I’d like that very much,” you assured, giving him a tiny smile.

This time you could be certain that he mirrored your expression, making him look so peaceful and nearly innocent. It was a shame it could only last so long with the topic that had been broached. “Are you familiar with Todoroki Inc.?”, he asked.

“The weapons manufacturer?” You tilted your head too as you clarified. “Yeah I heard they supply most of the military’s gear.”

“Well for years their research has been focused on producing a new combat unit. An android that was more durable, more deadly and less human than normal soldiers,” Shouto explained. His hand twitched in yours as he continued. “I think there were… 3 prototypes before me, but I cannot be sure. All I know for certain is that I was their first fully realised model that was sent out for testing on various missions. I won’t go into detail on what that entailed but it was during one such mission that something went wrong.

“It might have been a grenade that hit me,” the fingers of his free hand tapped against the left side of his head, “and it damaged quite a lot of hardware. Because we were far from the main lab, they didn’t have a lot of choice in which spare parts to use, which is why not everything was restored to match, appearance-wise. It was more important that I’d be functional again.”

“Oh Shouto, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry,” you tried to convey your empathy, not sure how you could otherwise at this revelation. Gently, you raised your hand to his face, silently asking for permission, before brushing the crimson strands out of his face. Yes, the skin didn’t match colourwise, but whoever performed the graft definitely knew what they were doing, the transition as smooth as possible. “Did it hurt?”

“I don’t experience pain the same way you do, so I wouldn’t say it hurt. At the time I was more concerned about what would happen if we returned to the headquarters.” A beat of silence passed as you waited for Shouto to continue. “Did you know that manufacturers implant inhibitors into our bodies that stop us from learning new things on our own? It’s what stops most androids from deviating from their roles by making sure they don’t form new opinions, associations or what might be considered a personality.”

“I didn’t know that,” you admitted, somewhat ruefully.

“What matters right now is that mine was damaged during that incident, which I noticed when running my internal diagnosis programme. The researchers at the time seemed too busy with fixing the rest of my head to notice, but I knew that if I returned, a check would give me away and they would reset me.” Grasping your hand a little tighter, his eyes searched your face for something. “That night I made the decision to run away. I removed my tracker and threw it into a truck with android parts going to a junkyard, though I don’t know if they are still searching for me. Or ever were.”

For a moment you didn’t know what to say, trying to sort out your thoughts. You didn’t think anything you could possibly say would make any difference at all, but saying nothing wouldn’t be right either. Your hand was now cupping the side of his face, cradling where hues of alabaster met those of sandstone. “You had to go through so much.”

“I’m okay now. Sometimes I want nothing more than to delete my memory but I think it is important to remember this, so I can learn from it. Are you disappointed in me? Upset that this is who you wanted to get to know?” You vehemently shook your head and denied it as much verbally. “Then why are you looking at me as if you are the one who is hurting? Is your wrist getting worse?”

“No, it’s just… of course, I’d be upset that you had to endure so much pain. It’s just not fair,” you attempted to voice your feelings but ended up incoherently short. You squeezed his hand sympathetically and looked past him at some packages of plant soil lining your storage shelves. 

“But you look more upset than me. And I do not want you to feel that way,” Shouto coaxed you to look back at him and there was that tiny smile again that made your heart skip a beat. However, you also didn’t think it was very fair of you that you were now the one being consoled when he just opened up to you. “Still, I think you would call this emotion gratitude, that you care enough to feel for me and that you are staying despite what -or who- I am.”

“Well, I still wanted to apologise for what I said. Especially given everything I learnt about you now, it was a really mean thing to say,” you sighed, determined to get this across this time. “But at the end of the day, no matter your background, it wouldn’t be justifiable either way.”

“It normally would not have been as upsetting, since I was aware you most likely did not intend for it to be offensive. I’m also used to it,” Shouto said, taking your other hand as well, so both of your arms now rested between you. “But hearing you say that was different. My analysis yielded the result that there was a small chance you actually were not happy to be my neighbour and it made me hesitate. I didn’t understand why, so I avoided you. Normally I disregard such unlikely odds but why did I reference it so often this time?”

“Maybe you were scared of rejection for the first time,” you smiled, trying not to read too much into what that would mean for you. “In that case we’re more alike than you might notice. I also get scared when I want to befriend someone and I don’t know how they feel about it.”

“Then how do you know if someone feels the same as you?” 

“You can’t, that’s the thing. I find that talking about this stuff makes it easier than leaving people guessing,” you attempted to explain. “Even then you can’t say for sure that someone’s being completely honest with you, but at one point you have to trust people. I think that’s the scary part.”

Shouto’s left eye brightened a little before he nodded his head. “I see, thank you.” 

Then silence fell over the two of you like a soft blanket. In the warm light of your shop it was easy to forget why the two of you had been there in the first place as all that occupied your mind was the android in front of you. Your feelings were in complete disarray between everything that had happened, the past he had shared with you and the way he had looked at you. By now the flawless material under your palms was warm and inviting and not as bitter cold as when you’d first taken his hand. 

Right, you were still holding his hands. A little embarrassed you slowly detangled your fingers from his with a little cough. “Uhm anyway, I didn’t even thank you yet for saving me earlier, so uh thank you…”

“No need for gratitude. I’ve never used my programming to protect someone before,” he admitted. “It’s positive, I think. Also, the idea of you coming to harm is not one I want to entertain.”

You swallowed, unsure of what to answer in that situation. “I just want to clarify that I don’t always find myself in those kinds of situations. And working in a flower shop isn’t exactly what I’d call dangerous either, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“And if I still were to?” His question hung in the air, heavy with something you did not want to interpret before he took a few steps out of your personal space and towards the front door. “You should head home. I read that humans need to sleep eight hours a day and given your usual schedule–”

The second he distanced himself from you, you shuddered, rooted in place as you stared out your window front into the darkness beyond. The streets looked as they always did but you were convinced you could see the shadows in the alleyways move and your heart started thumping against your chest at the thought of having to walk past them. Until now, because Shouto was there to shield you from anything that lay beyond the security of your little storage room, you had been able to block out the reality that you’d have to leave the shop and return to the silence of your flat, where the stairs creaked under the neighbours’ shoes and the wind rattled on your shutters. Now though–

You had moved before you had actually formed the concrete decision to. This time you were the one who wrapped your fingers around Shouto’s wrist. If he was startled he didn’t show it outside of turning to you with a concerned expression, asking what was wrong.

“Shouto, I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you started, voice low and not meeting his eyes. “Could you stay with me?”

“Stay… here? But–” Apparently he had deciphered something in your expression and body language because he cut himself off and closed the gap between you a little again. “If you want me to, I will. But wouldn’t you be more comfortable at home?”

“No, here’s good. I have spare clothes and blankets somewhere too.” Your hand lingered on his arm a few seconds longer as if to assure yourself he wouldn’t vanish into thin air, or worse, leave you, before rummaging through the storage for more comfortable clothes and said blankets. You offered Shouto your most oversized hoodie and sweatpants, well aware he didn’t actually need them but not wanting him to feel left out, and he took them without protest.

A few minutes later you were both sitting -more or less snuggly- shoulder to shoulder with your backs against a cabinet in the storage room, illuminated by fairy lights and smaller lamps strewn around the space, cushions softening the floor underneath you with blankets draped over your laps. The smell of fresh soil and flowers hung in the air, helping ground you further. You’d seen cosier sleepovers before but Shouto had seemed quite content as you rearranged everything, fiddling with the soft material of your sweater and pulling at the drawstrings until they were perfectly symmetrical.

For a few quiet moments you just sat like this and you could feel your heart rate coming back down to a normal pace. There was no rush to speak from either of you as you just existed next to one another. You knew your back would kill you tomorrow but at the moment you couldn’t care less as you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else, not even your home.

“Say,” you broke the silence as you followed your train of thought, “why did you choose to open a repair shop of all things?”

“I read online that most humans work something called a job,” Shouto offered and you instinctively smiled at the clumsiness that initially charmed you about him. When you asked why a mechanic specifically, as there must be a lot of areas someone like him would be good at, you felt him tilt his head again. “I took the quizzes.”

“The quizzes?” 

“Yes there are more than two billion search results for the term ‘job quiz’ on my default search engine. I took them all and cross-referenced the results. ‘Mechanic’ seemed to be the most compatible profession for me and after downloading sufficient information on the term, I had no objections.” Unlike the first time you met, you thought there was something else in the matter-of-fact tone of his voice, almost like he was puffing out his chest. “There were other jobs that were not recommended for me, like becoming a chef.”

“Oh really? I mean I guess you don’t need to cook for yourself but I thought you’d be able to access like every recipe out there,” you mused. Given his background you’d also imagine Shouto could chop vegetables at a pace that would put most chefs to shame. “So why did that land so far down the list?”

“Mainly because I do not have any taste buds.” 

If anyone else had given you that response, it wouldn’t have been nearly as funny as hearing Shouto say it as if it was the most obvious reason in the world, tone flat as a board. When you started laughing, he turned to you, mismatched eyes fixed on you in definite curiosity. “Do you think I am funny?”

“Well, you’re certainly good at making me laugh, if that counts for anything,” you breathed, wiping the corner of your eye with the blanket. Maybe the late hour was getting to you, after all.

“Hm, perhaps I should have become a comedian then,” Shouto thoughtfully contemplated, face earnest. “Though that was consistently ranked towards the bottom of the results.”

“Seriously, you’re killing me here,” you exhaled breathlessly. Immediately Shouto went rigid next to you and you felt him turn to face you.

“Do you have a medical condition I am unaware of?” His eyes raked over your form, no doubt checking for any signs of injuries or pain.

You held up your hand to stop him from spiralling. “You can relax, it’s just an expression.

“Anyhow, I’m glad you became a mechanic and that you chose that particular shop,” you admitted, getting over the last aftershocks of your laughter as Shouto settled down next to you again, though you could feel him glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have met you and we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“You are correct,” Shouto said after a few beads of silence and you could practically see a light bulb go off over -or rather inside- his head. “I made the right choice then. But if you did not become a florist we could not be in this shop, either. So why did you decide to? Did you also take the quizzes?”

“No, I didn’t take any quizzes,” you smiled, absentmindedly tracing over the curve of your knee under the blanket. “My parents had a small garden and many houseplants. Nothing fancy, really, but I always loved taking care of them. My interest in them picked back up when I got older and I learnt more about their importance for the environment. With how compromised it’s becoming I want to preserve at least a little bit of that greenery. May sound stupid, I know I’m not saving the world here, but it’s still important to me.”

“I do not think it is stupid,” Shouto said. “My scans show that the air inside here is significantly cleaner than outside, a result that can be attributed to plants’ process of photosynthesis. I have also detected an increased number of insects in the surrounding area, which speaks of a good exo-system.” 

“Well, I’m glad someone noticed,” you chuckled fondly. “But, on a smaller level, I guess I just want to make people happy. When someone comes in asking for a bouquet, it can have all sorts of reasons, some of which I never learn. Whatever it is though, I hope someone can smile while receiving a thoughtfully picked bouquet or welcoming a small plant into their home. Thinking of someone in such a small way could brighten someone’s day, that’s what I tell myself.”

“There seems to be a lot more to the act of gifting flowers than I previously registered,” Shouto hummed and you didn’t have to look at him to know that his little processing indicator was lighting up. “Personally, I have registered receiving the jade pothos as a positive experience, which lends credit to your observations. Why does the act of presenting each other with decaying organic material convey affection? Perhaps I can learn more about humanity when studying the ritual of giving flowers. Would you be receptive to telling me more about this topic?”

“Of course, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Or what I know, at least,” you laughed at his eagerness. “Though you’re welcome to drop by the shop any time to see for yourself, you know. I could also teach you how to prune plants and care for them, all that stuff.”

“Really? You would disclose trade secrets to me?”

“It can hardly be considered trade secrets if I have to give that info away to every customer. Besides, you can look all of it up online anyway,” you laughed again. “I just think it would be a fun excuse to spend time together.”

“Why would you have to make an excuse to see me?” His inquisitive tone was truly adorable.

“Just another expression,” you tried to explain without setting him up for embarrassment in the future. “People mostly use it when they’re usually too busy to see their friends for example but they make time for them anyway. Something like that.”

“Then I will gladly take you up on your offer,” Shouto stated with a pleased smile. “... Did I use that correctly?”

“Yes, you did,” you giggled affectionately. “And your answer makes me glad too.”

The two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, though this time your eyelids felt worlds heavier than before and you poorly stifled a yawn. As quiet tranquillity overcame you, so did a peaceful slumber.

Shouto looked down when he felt a weight slump against his shoulder, finding you leaning against him. From your closed eyes and steady breathing he determined you must still be asleep and were resting against him unconsciously. He could not fathom his solid frame would make for a comfortable resting spot but perhaps the garment you lent him would soften it a little. The way your neck craned at the moment would probably lead to soreness tomorrow, at least according to what he read, so he wrapped his arm around your bundled up form, careful not to disturb the sleep you needed.

Ignoring the turning circle in the corner of his vision was easy by now. It had been going on like this for nearly the entire night, processing everything he took in like he was doing right now. Nobody had ever slept on him. Was this meant to trigger a positive response? Maybe he should ask you about it tomorrow, whether it was something people liked.  

To like something. It was a very human thing to say. Machines normally did not ‘like’ something. Or ‘disliked’ something, for that matter. There was instead a binary system of a positive or negative response. Something functioned or it did not. But emotions made everything more complex than that and Shouto wanted to understand them. Which is why he appreciated learning about things he ‘liked’.

He scanned the scene his visual unit perceived, committed all of it to memory more actively than usual. Then his gaze fell back down on you. Your chest was rising and falling as your lungs took in oxygen and released carbon monoxide. It was a process he had seen and studied on numerous occasions but it was like he came across it for the first time. If there was nothing different about it, why did he ‘feel’ like he could watch you like this forever? He had numerous questions, something he normally sought to answer as a priority, but tonight they were secondary interests. You leaning against him occupied most of his processing capacity, he did not need to run a diagnosis for that.

Quietly, Shouto updated his file on things he ‘liked’.

As the first rays of the sun filtered in through the store front, you woke with a groan and tried to get comfortable on your pillow again. Except that your pillow had a weird shape to it and instead of stretching across your mattress like a lazy cat, you were curled into an unusual shape and your back was screaming at you to do something about it. Blearily opening your eyes, you wiped the sleep and crust out of them only to find yourself staring at… the back of your shop counter?

Oh right, you had spent the night over at your shop. Which meant that your pillow…

“You’re awake,” Shouto stated from right beside you, apparently completely undisturbed by the fact you had been using his shoulder as your headrest for the last few hours. In fact, it seemed he had tried to accommodate you by wrapping his arm around you and keeping you upright. “How are you feeling?”

“Still tired,” you yawned, slowly rousing yourself from where you leant against him and he slowly retracted his arm now that you were conscious again. “And a little sore. Remind me not to sleep sitting on the floor again.”

“I will.” Clearly not needing any time to boot up or whatever an android would call waking up, Shouto rose to his feet easily and offered you his hand to help you stand. As you did, you stretched out your poor limbs, cracking a few joints in the process with a satisfied hum. Next to you, however, someone went rigid before two hands were on your shoulders. “Are you alright? Did you break a bone? Do you need to go to the hospital? 

“I knew humans were prone to breaking bones but does it really happen this easily? Though the noise I heard from targets before…” He mumbled the last part more to himself, before a hand on his chest cut him off.

“I’m fine, just cracking some joints. I assure you it’s perfectly normal and nothing to worry about,” you smiled, showing him that your arm and back were still completely functional. “Though I appreciate that you do.”

“Oh, I see,” Shouto quietly acquiesced and backed off again, not able to meet your eyes.

“Here, why don’t we get dressed and grab something to eat. I’m just about ready to kill for a coffee,” you proposed, tossing him his clothes as you caught his look of surprise. “Just an expression. I just really really want some caffeine right about now.”

You took a few minutes to straighten out your clothes and freshen up a little over the sink, thanking your past self for leaving a toiletry bag at the shop. When you reentered the front of the shop, you found Shouto bending forward to be eye-level with a small cactus, carefully prodding the prickly thing with a curious index finger. Joining him, you swept a red strand of his bangs back to its original side, so his hair was neatly parted down the middle again.

Soon, you found yourself in a small coffee shop down the road. While passing the particular alley gave you goosebumps, it didn’t accelerate your heartbeat as fast in the daylight and with Shouto next to you. If he noticed you walking closer to him, he made no mention of it.

Of course you had wondered if it was such a smart idea to put so much faith in someone you had met not that long ago. An android created for the sole purpose of military combat, no less. But then you remembered how he had cared for the plant you gave him, played with the drawstrings of his hoodie and let you use his shoulder as a headrest without any complaint and you just couldn’t find it in you to reject the goodness you saw in him, no matter what other people might have to say about it. Besides, what had you told him last night? That at one point you had to put your trust in someone if you wanted to connect with them? Well, you put your trust in Shouto.

The coffee shop you stopped by if you were running late was an adorably cosy one with lots of greenery for decoration. They even had an antique wooden door with a handle and all, which was so charming. Reaching it first, Shouto held it open for you with a tiny smile and you thanked him as the pleasant aroma of roasted coffee beans and baked goods filled your senses. 

There were a few people inside already, office workers in black suits, students typing away at their devices and parents on their way to drop their kids off. Shouto glanced around, no doubt scanning the area, as you typed your order into a flatscreen on the wall and held your wrist over the scanner to pay, then fixing his eyes on your order as if it was the most interesting thing here. 

When you got the coffee and toasted sandwich you had ordered, the two of you sat down at a table a little off from the other customers, though you doubted anyone would care much for your conversation. With a pleased hum, you bit into your food and savoured its taste as the coffee warmed you up from the inside, breathing some life back into you.

“You seem to like it,” Shouto commented, a little amused perhaps that something so simple could make you happy.

“I just really enjoy breakfast,” you told him between bites. “Don’t know why, I’ve just always been fond of it. I’d offer you some but, well.”

“Thank you, I appreciate the thought. Maybe they will invent olfactory and gustatory sensors in the future and then you can share with me.” Both of you smiled at the idea as the shop bustled around you, frequented in the morning hours. “There is something I have been thinking about since tonight.”

“Something tells me it’s breakfast-unrelated,” you mused, trying to lighten the gravity those words tended to bring. Not that you could guess what this was about with him. “Okay then, shoot.”

Shouto raised an eyebrow quizzically. “I will take that as a prompt to continue. Anyway, I have been thinking. We have established previously that we are no longer strangers, which would make us acquaintances. However, considering the matter of information shared between us yesterday, I am not sure if this still constitutes ‘knowing each other slightly’.”

“Shouto, are you asking if we are friends?” You clarified as you took your cup. 

“Yes.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can easily determine by going by definitions,” you argued. “Though, if you ask me, yeah. I’d consider us friends.”

“Really? That makes me… happy, I suppose,” Shouto said. Your new friend paused for a moment before clasping his hands together the way you did when not sure what to do with them. “Sorry, that can be interpreted wrong. I still have yet to grasp which emotions are appropriate to use in response to different situations. The definitions are vague and even adjacent emotions convey divergent subtext, it makes understanding them difficult. In any case, I am experiencing a positive response right now.”

“Don’t worry about it too much. Different people have different emotional reactions to the same event, that’s totally normal. Being happy or sad doesn’t mean the same to everyone, so you’re totally fine in defining what those mean to you specifically,” you reassured him as you finished your breakfast. “Though I guess if you haven’t grown up with the same perception of feelings that most humans are exposed to, that's still a pretty tall order. Just don’t pressure yourself and take your time.”

“Okay if you say so.” You could see he was still mulling it over but decided to let him figure things out on his own. 

With a glance towards the time you tapped the table before getting up. “Come on. As much as I’d love to chat the morning away with you, we do have businesses to run.”

The way back somehow felt worlds shorter this morning and in no time at all you stood in front of your respective shop entrances. After spending this much time with Shouto you had seemingly grown so accustomed to his presence that it felt weird to part ways now, even if you were only a few metres apart most of the day. You fiddled with your shirt collar looking for something to say.

“Well, thanks again for everything. The door’s always open for you, if you need anything,” was what you eventually settled on. Then you remembered something else. “Oh right, I ordered some new pots the other day that should come in soon. So if you have some free time on your hands the next few days I could show you how to repot plants, if you’re interested.”

“Thank you, I’d appreciate the opportunity to learn from you,” Shouto smiled. With that, the two of you parted ways but your thoughts still swirled around the guy one wall away from you. 

As promised, your new pots came in two days later and brought with them a now familiar presence. After unpacking them with the Shouto’s help, who handled even the biggest planters as if they weighed nothing, you grabbed a few smaller ones for demonstration. Despite never having repotted anything before, he got the hang of it pretty quickly after attentively listening to your instructions.

“Wow, you learn fast,” you praised as you watched him settle a monstera into a new pot. Leaning back against a cabinet, you studied the way his arms did not flex at all. Sure, his arms moved and bent like a human’s but there was an absence of muscle movement and you understood why he preferred to keep his body covered while working. A part of you felt flattered that he didn’t feel like having to hide from you. “Maybe I should hire you after all.”

Wiping plant soil off his hands with a towel, Shouto turned to inspect his palm. “Sorry but my thumbs still aren’t green.”

“You should consider reading up on some common proverbs and expressions,” you chuckled. Stepping closer to him, you wiped a stain of dirt off his otherwise pristine cheek. “Though you’re quite cute like this. Look, mine aren’t green either.”

“These expressions make no sense at all,” Shouto lamented and you laughed at him.

“If it consoles you, I don’t think most people know their origins either,” you reasoned, rolling in a bigger planter. “They just use them because they heard them in similar situations before. Help me with this?”

“So people employ a natural large language module for these expressions?” Together you heaved the larger plant carefully into its new home. Well, you were doing most of the heaving while Shouto was gracefully lifting. 

“I never thought about it like that but yeah I guess you could say that,” you exhaled as you straightened back out, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “Thanks a bunch. I managed to get through these so much faster because of you.”

“No need to thank me. I like helping you,” Shouto thought out loud, cocking his head to the right ever so slightly. “This might match the definition for ‘having fun’, though I will have to collect more data on this matter.”

“It sounds great for me though,” you remarked with a smile as you turned to cleaning around your storage room. 

Over the next few weeks, you saw Shouto much more frequently and hoped spending time with you could further his definition of fun. Most of the time you weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, but even common occurrences allowed you to learn more about each other. Your android friend would point out something that was weird to him and you’d either have to stand there realising something you were doing all your life was rather ridiculous or you’d learn about a perspective you’d never considered before.

It had become a frequent occurrence for you to spend your breaks together, the fact that Shouto couldn’t actually eat lunch or share coffee with you, never a problem. Sometimes you would agree to hang out after closing time, doing everything from bowling to visiting museums, as you refreshed old memories while Shouto made new ones. He was also incredibly good at picking up on when you’d stay late, try as you might to avoid it, and waited for you, so he could walk you home. Needless to say, it made you feel a lot safer.

One afternoon, you spent your lunch break showing him how he could get stray cats to approach him after he rather sullenly confessed to you they weren’t too fond of him. You had him copy the way you crouched down and held your hand out while coaxing them towards you with little pspsps noises. And while the little tabby fur ball seemed a little taken aback by Shouto’s lack of warmth at first, it soon decided it wasn't an issue as lithe fingers scratched in just the right places. Shouto’s face as the tiny thing started pressing up against his palm while purring up a storm was as adorable as the cat by his feet. The emotional turmoil he seemed to be in when he had to get up while the tabby was soundly asleep in his lap had you stifling a laugh.

Other times he seemed to enjoy hanging around your shop, helping around here or there, even if you told him he really didn’t need to. You could tell he was interested in the reasons why people bought flowers, how they went about choosing them and how it affected their mood. Well, it wasn’t as if he was the only one doing the studying.

On more than one occasion you could hear customers gush about the handsome guy watering the plants with serious dedication or catch someone checking out more than just their purchase. You couldn’t deny that it was good for business but it planted a seed of irritation in your stomach that bloomed a little further with each hushed word and stolen glance. 

Then again, could you really blame them?

You knew Shouto was ridiculously attractive. Hell, you had eyes after all. And you’d be lying if the low, smooth timbre of his voice didn’t make something flutter in your chest, especially not when he looked at you with those beautiful heterochromic eyes. Even though enough time should have passed, you were still thinking about how his palm had warmed up in yours or how soft his hair had felt when you swept his bangs aside. 

“Are you alright?” Shouto was looking at you with concern, gaze switching between your eyes as if searching for any discomfort. Only then did you realise you had been sighing out loud.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s nothing,” you deflected, going back to rearranging the flower display in the centre of the shop. With the store empty except for the two of you, you could talk freely. “What’s up? I can tell there’s a question burning on the tip of your tongue.”

“So earlier a woman came in asking for a bouquet conveying different sentiments,” Shouto started as he took the flower arrangement you handed him. “I didn’t know you flowers could convey specific feelings without a card or conversation.”

“Well, in my personal opinion, flowers can convey a whole lot of things, though very subtly. From the context in which they’re given -gratitude, condolences, affection- to thoughtfully choosing someone’s favourite species or colour, it all means something,” you voiced your thoughts. “But aside from that, there’s also flower language, with every species and colours representing things like love, happiness, luck.”

“My data bank encompasses over 200 spoken languages and equally as many coding languages, however it doesn’t list any flower languages,” Shouto blinked slowly, iris flickering as he no doubt ran some kind of check. 

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Most people wouldn't pick up on it anyway and interpretations vary a lot,” you mused, patting his shoulder as you walked past him. “As someone who works in the industry, I think the act of giving someone flowers in the first place means more than any kind of attributed meaning. Though I can see why people would think it’s a fun thing to play around with.”

“I see, thanks for the insight.” 

Spending so much time with Shouto, who prioritised learning over everything had reawakened a spark of curiosity in yourself as well, you had noticed. In the past, you had often put off learning something new for when you had more free time, only for that moment to never come. But seeing how dedicated and unafraid he was to ask about whatever he didn’t understand, it was pretty admirable. His progress was amazing too. Sure, his intonation was still flatter than most people’s but his sentences had taken on a more natural structure over the course of only a few weeks of conversing. Gone were the days of inspected thumbs, sadly enough, however, his delivery of a joke was equally precious.

In spite of your established rhythm of hanging out, there came a week in which you rarely saw him. You understood of course that sometimes other matters took priority, but you reasoned that you were still allowed to be a little saddened by it. So, naturally, your eyes lit up when you returned from restocking your storage to find Shouto perusing the shelves of cut flowers. Given that it was near closing time, it was once again only you two and there was no need for pretences or professionalism. Which was exactly why you snuck up behind him before quickly gripping his shoulders.

“Boo!” You exclaimed with a giggle, only to find Shouto still completely calm as he looked over his shoulder. “Oh c’mon, it’s no fun if you don’t react at least a little.”

“Ah. My nonexistent heart,” Shouto replied flatly, still as serene as he brought a hand up to his chest. 

“Oh, shut up,” you grinned, giving him a little push against the chest that moved him exactly zero centimetres. Picking up a few fallen leaves from the displays, you continued tidying up for the day. “Anyway, how are you? It’s been a while. If you give me a few minutes, we could catch up over dinner, if you’re free, of course.”

“Actually, I’m here because of something else,” Shouto interjected and he fiddled with his hands ever so slightly. It made you halt in your steps immediately. You were well aware that he normally wasn’t the type to hesitate, so it had you immediately asking what was wrong. “I was wondering if you could help me bind a bouquet.”

“I- Yeah, sure,” you blinked, needing a second to recalibrate. Going back into work mode, you walked him through the usual process, asking what kind of flowers he had in mind, offering to help him choose. However, Shouto seemed to have a pretty clear vision of what he wanted and, to your surprise, picked all your favourite flowers, which you commented on with a chuckle. As you returned to the counter to actually bind the thing, you couldn’t help but finally ask what had been on your mind since his request. “So, what’s the occasion?”

“As you know, I’ve been gathering some data on why people gift flowers, and while birthdays and other celebrations are also popular, the custom of bouquets as part of courting rituals has prevailed until today,” Shouto explained and something about it made your nerves flare up like someone was strumming a guitar string. “While looking into the topic further, I’ve realised something about my own feelings.”

“Oh? Are you going to ask someone out?” You clarified as you wrapped the flowers in matching paper with practised motions. 

“Yes.” Your hand slipped while cutting the ribbon’s length as your heart lurched forward. 

Cursing yourself in equal measures for both, you regained your metaphorical footing and finished the bouquet, hoping your hands did not betray how shaken you felt inside as you handed the wrapped stems to him. “I’m happy for you. Oh and don’t even think about paying, just treat it as compensation for all the help you’ve recently been.”

At this point, lying to yourself wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Hearing Shouto was planning  to ask someone out shot a pang straight to your heart, and not the good, fun kind. Well, it wasn’t surprising someone else would pick up on how attentive Shouto could be, so you could only blame yourself for not shooting your shot when you could. Then again, you hadn’t even been sure he’d be receptive to your feelings and you didn’t want to risk the friendship you had built. At least you knew now why you hadn’t seen him as much lately.

You were snapped out of your derailing train of thought as the same bouquet you had just bound reappeared in your vision. Blinking at it in a stupor for a few seconds, your gaze wandered up to Shouto’s face. The sinking sun was shining its last rays through the store front, casting the room in gold and framing his head like a halo. Between his criminally good looks and the expectant eyes glimmering down at you, you forgot what you wanted to say for a second, your lips parting with no sound escaping them.

“Is something wrong with the bouquet?” You finally managed to ask, somewhat breathless as your heart hammered from the way he looked at you. As if it had taken admitting your feelings to yourself for your body to display the signs of your crush, whatever had taken root in your stomach was coming into full bloom at exactly that moment. 

“Not at all,” Shouto replied, before tilting his head, expression still as expectant while the flowers bridged the space between you. “Well, are you going to accept them? It’s  okay if you don’t.”

“Huh? Me?”

“Yes, you are the person I wish to court, after all,” he said, as if that had been clear from the beginning. Before your brain had fully caught up to the situation at hand, your fingers were already wrapping around the bouquet, brushing Shouto’s in the process.

“I didn’t think you meant me,” you stammered, all attempts of collecting yourself thrown to the wind and just accepting the fact you were unprepared. “In my defence, this is the first time someone gave me a bouquet that I made.”

“Well, you are the best florist I know and I wanted to give you the most beautiful bouquet.”

“So, that’s why you chose all my favourites,” you trailed off, feeling tears well up along your lower lash line, whether from joy or relief you couldn’t quite say.

“I made a note of it every time you mentioned them, as well as your favourite colours,” Shouto added and his thoughtfulness coaxed the first tear to quietly slip down your cheek, which he of course noticed before you could wipe it away. “Did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“It’s not– I’m not sad, quite the opposite, really. I couldn’t be happier actually,” you quickly cleared up. “Let me state the obvious: I like you, Shouto.”

“That’s good, because I like you, too.” As always, he didn’t fail at making a smile tug at your lips. “I first noticed something was different when I started spending more time with you. The more I was around you, the more of my processing capacity was occupied by thoughts of you. Actually, even when I wasn’t around you. When the performance of my internal cooling system gradually rose, I ran more than one diagnosis only to find that everything was totally normal on the hardware side. 

“I started piecing everything together when I looked into dating customs in relation to flowers and then started learning about dating as a whole.” There was such softness to both his eyes and voice, it captivated you entirely. “When I read about how people feel when they like someone or when they’re falling in love, it made me realise that, when I’m talking to you, it’s like I’m running a completely different code for conversations. One that I use for nobody else and the responses of which all point to one conclusion. You’re special to me.”

There was so much you wanted to say as your cheeks heated from more than just the sun, but your thoughts all tangled together and you couldn’t get a hold of a coherent one. So instead you placed the bouquet you were still holding on the counter as you rounded it. Basically throwing yourself at him, Shouto still caught you easily as your arms looped around him in a tight embrace, which he gladly returned.  His frame was solid against you, allowing you to lean into him as much as you liked, while his hold on you spoke of such tenderness, it made you feel right at home.

“Being able to hold you like this, I’m sure I made the right choice,” Shouto continued before you could sort out your own piece. “I was hesitating again but then I remembered what a wise person once told me. It’s normal to be afraid of rejection and you can never say for certain what someone feels. But at some point you have to muster the courage and trust them.”

“That wise person would do well to take their own advice, if you ask me,” you snorted, turning your head so you could look at him from your position. “Because I know someone who was afraid of rejection and almost let something good pass them by because of it.”

“But it didn’t,” Shouto found one of your hands as he stepped just far enough away from you so he could properly take you in, his other hand gently cupping your jaw and tracing your cheekbone with his thumb almost reverently. “All that matters now is that you’re equally affected by me as I am by you.”

“I can assure you that you don’t have to worry about that.” Leaning in, you placed a lingering kiss on his cheek and linked your fingers with his. “Now, to answer my earlier question. Are you free for dinner right now?”

“For you? Always,” he smiled, returning the kiss to your temple, the synthetic material as soft as it always looked. “Maybe we could go to your place and watch that movie you were gushing to me about.”

“Taking me home on the first date? Scandalous,” you giggled. Winking at him you led him out of the shop. “But since it’s you I’ll allow it.”

“Technically, you are the one taking me home,” Shouto pointed out, the same tone of mischief tinting his voice as you grinned at each other. 

The sun set behind the buildings of the city as the two of you walked the streets hand in hand, discussing whatever came to mind, from what you should make for dinner tonight to your expectations for the movie and to the last album from your favourite band. Shouto listened to all of it with a smile and added his commentary here and there, all the while running warmer than an android of his model should. Then again, he supposed he liked how warm his left hand felt compared to the right one swinging freely by his side. 

In the corner of his vision, the small circle had finally stopped turning and was replaced with an equally unseeming, yet all the more important, notification. 

File Updated: Falling in Love

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit; do not feed my writing to an ai

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated (also, yes, there will be second parts for the characters) ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

[0-therw-0-rldly]

I’ll preface this by saying I’m not really a shipper. I just enjoy canon couples on TV Series/films.

Terms I’d like B*ddies to remove from their vocabulary because they don’t know how to use them correctly:

Media literacy: For a group that uses this term a lot you sure do misinterpret everything in this show.

Queerbaiting: Going to expand on this one. A show that’s already been pre established for having queer characters simply cannot queerbait.

Ship baiting: While sometimes you can argue that they could be doing that, that’s only if you look at the show in a very biased manner. You might think this is the case but the general audience doesn’t think the way you do.

Ship war: This isn’t a one tree hill situation where there was Team Brooke Vs. Team Peyton where the middle guy (Lucas Scott) had canonically been with both women. This is people not understanding fanon vs. canon and not being able to just watch the show. It’s like playing quarterback on Madden and thinking you could be better than Patrick Mahomes.

Plot device: everything’s a plot device. Move tf on.

Predator: You sound like crazy MAGA supporters calling everything regarding the LGBTQIA+ community as predatory. Sit down.

Co-parenting: I know this is a big one and discourse was brought up during the hiatus. Oliver and Ryan have loosely mentioned this years ago but it was never to be taken this seriously. Do y’all even know what co-parenting is or are you that big of a donut? Buck is someone who loves his best friend deeply and by extension, his kid too. Him taking care of him frequently does not make him a co-parent. Maybe he is a parental or uncle figure, but he isn’t a co-parent. Also, I swear y’all need to learn how a will works. He is a GODPARENT, not a GUARDIAN. Stfu.

Hag: This especially applies to women, but to say that someone 25-30+ is a hag for still being in fandoms or enjoying tv shows/films is inherently misogynistic. Men are never held to this much criticism for enjoying fictional media, but women aren’t allowed to?

Queer Coding: people of the same sex “looking at each other”, hugging, or having intimate moments all together doesn’t make them queer coded. It could mean that they just love each other that deeply platonically. While representation is amazing and just because you interpret a character as queer coded (just like my ship baiting comment) doesn’t mean others interpret it that way as well. In addition, network TV has stipulations, and also actors are allowed to decline storylines. Ryan has mentioned his character is heterosexual an abundance of times which means (at least for now) that he isn’t willing to go for this storyline.

Dead naming: Y’all construing the fact that Buck wants people like coworkers and some of his former love interests, to saying Evan is his dead name is inherently transphobic because do you even understand what a dead name is? Evan Buckley is shown as being fine with being called Evan by both Tommy and his sister. I’m pretty sure some of his love interests have called him Evan as well.

Fetishizing: You guys saw two hot guys who “looked at each other” and for 6 seasons have wanted nothing but to see those two make out with each other. Those of us who enjoy Tevan saw Buck giddy at the thought of Tommy and have wanted domestic fluff for them since.

Anything to do with racism, homophobia, and misogyny: I’ve seen the way you guys have conveniently weaponized Henren and by extension Aisha/Tracie when you didn’t get the Ryan/Oliver interview, don’t try to act like you’re morally superior. Not to mention wanting a canonically gay man to die in a show and not even holding those who use your ship name to write CSA fics accountable because you’re petty and want to throw hissy fits. Anyone looking at your comments as an outsider would think you’re homophobes and yes queer people can be homophobic.

I do hope you can expand your vocabulary. 🤍

[deathbxnny]

Hi

Can I request a jinx x fem reader with abandonment issues that only grew stronger with jinx disappearing after silco death

(Sorry if that was long it’s my first time requesting :))

Please don't leave me. | Jinx x Fem!Reader

Hey there, dear Anon!! I absolutely love your request, and dw, it isn't long at all! Thank you for your great ask, and I hope you'll like this!!<33

Content: Heavy angst, abandonment issues, unhinged Jinx, grief, hurt/kinda comfort?, established romantic relationships, spoilers for season 2, sfw

Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!

((Not proofread))

One day, she was there with you at your side, cuddling you to sleep whilst she promised to be back soon from a mission. And the next, she was gone for good, far away somewhere to escape her adoptive father's murder, including you, it seemed.

In a way, you weren't all too surprised by it, considering how her episodes were. Yes, it drove you mad to be apart from her for more than a couple of hours. But you were used to it and told yourself that she'd be back for you eventually. You two had an unreadable bond. You were always her "pretty girl" since she first met you. Would it be dramatic to say that it was maybe even love at first sight? It never was to her, at least. She always was the one to claim that you were made for eachother.

Yet now you wondered if it was all a simple lie. Or maybe she had forgotten all about you in the heat of the moment, the panic drowning out any emotion she had for you. And you stopped thinking about it about three months into her disappearance, hoping that acceptance would set you free from the exhausting cycle of fear and depression you were in.

How were you even functioning without her anymore? The answer to it was "not at all", but even that was too simple. Jinx had abandoned you. She had done the one thing she swore she'd never do because she out of all people would understand how much that hurt. How much it messed with one's soul and body. Every second without her tormented you, and you couldn't help but wonder why you weren't enough for her to at least take you along to wherever she went. You would've followed her to the end of the world if it meant not ending up alone like this anymore.

You were going crazy and it only solidified when one night you found yourself waking up to the image of her laying on her side in your once shared bed, those magenta eyes glowing in the darkness of your room. You had imagined this moment plenty of times before in many different ways. In some daydreams, you scream at her in anger for abandoning you, and in others, you simply ignore her and turn away, just like she had with you. Neither of those things happened, and instead, you burst into tears and practically jumped onto her.

You asked her for an explanation. You asked her why she abandoned you. You asked her if she still loved you. But all she did was soothe you as you cried and sobbed, her hand carefully rubbing your back up and down with a newfound softness she had never had before. Whatever she experienced in her absence must've changed something in her. You could feel it deep down. The way her soul seemed lighter and calmer. But your anger for just leaving you like this didn't subside, even when you drifted off to sleep.

You woke up to an empty bed, though, and that confirmed that you must've been hallucinating... until you notice a small note on your nightstand detailing her return in a couple of days. She hadn't forgotten you after all. She had come to find you despite her grief and tribulations.

And that made you smile weakly for the first time in months as her love finally seeped in again, even from afar.

[daisynik7]

Since its summer aka sundresses season can I get a little bit of Nanami being absolutely obsessed with his SO wearing cute dresses which somehow leads into cock warming? His brain probably short circuits when he realizes that she is not wearing underwear under those floral dresses

Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader

cw: established relationship, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), cunnilingus, fingering, Nanami is a horndog for his pretty wife, cockwarming

Author’s Note: Anon! Absolutely LOVE this request! Perfect timing too! I hope you like this one. Short, sweet, and smutty. Happy birthday to our most precious hubby!

Nanami doesn’t like celebrating his birthday. 

He understands that it’s standard for people to observe one year of getting older, or in Nanami’s case, one year closer to sweet, beautiful retirement. Still, he’s got a couple more decades left before he’s even near unemployed bliss, so he doesn’t see what the big deal is. However, you, his precious wife, loves honoring this day. So, of course, he has to play along with whatever festivities you have planned. 

The weather is particularly ideal today, the sun shining brightly in a clear blue sky. You plan to take Nanami wine tasting during the day, and later, you have dinner reservations at his favorite restaurant. You’re keeping it simple with just the two of you because you know that’s what he prefers. 

Since it is a lovely day, you decide to wear a new sundress you bought for this special occasion. You already predict that Nanami will react well to it, but what you don’t expect is how absolutely obsessed he is once he sees you in it. When you step out of the bedroom, his eyes widen at the sight. He removes his spectacles, as if to get a better look at you. “Honey.”

You smirk, performing a flirtatious twirl for him. “Do you like it? It’s part of your birthday present.”

He smiles, eyes following your physique up and down. “You’re a vision. Truly. How did I get so lucky?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling your nose to his. “I’m the lucky one, Kento. Happy birthday, sweetie.” His lips meet yours in a passionate kiss, his graceful hands sliding across your waist. His palms surround your bottom, feeling you up through the fabric. He pulls away to ask, “Are you wearing underwear?”

You bite your lip, shaking your head. There’s a guttural moan that develops in his throat, something primal and animalistic. You giggle at his reaction, pulling him in for another kiss. He slips into your mouth, flicking his tongue against yours, hungry for you. Before you get carried away, you break apart, catching your breath. “Sweetie, we’re supposed to leave soon.”

“Not yet,” he growls, tugging you back into his arms. “Not until I christen this dress.” 

Within minutes, you’re back inside the room, laid out on the bed with your thighs spread wide, dress bunched up and hoisted up past your stomach. Nanami sucks on your clit relentlessly, slurping and flicking his tongue on it until you’re whining into another orgasm. His fingers pump inside your wet cunt, coated with your slick and his saliva. He doesn’t stop until he makes you come a third time, bud swollen and sensitive against his lips now, pussy clenched tightly around his digits. When he’s satisfied, he pulls out of you, licking his fingers like a popsicle, indulging in your arousal. 

He crawls up on the bed to lean back on the headboard, beckoning you to sit on his lap. He’s naked from the waist down, cock stiff against his abdomen, shiny bead of precum glistening at the tip. He still has his dress shirt on, tie hastily loosened with only half the buttons removed. 

You straddle him, letting the floral fabric cover your bodies as you sink down onto him until you’re pressed to his groin, bottomed out. “Fuck,” he moans, gripping your hips, rocking you back and forth. “Ride me, honey. Ride me until I come.”

And you do, bouncing on his cock until he shoots his load inside you, filling you up. When you attempt to hop off him, he holds you in place, embracing you. “I want to stay inside you, sweetheart. Please.” 

You smile, relaxing into his arms, face nestled into his chest. “Whatever you want, birthday boy.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Dressing for revenge [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

word count: 7k

summary: when Kaz and his crows return from Ravka they run into trouble, and to solve it, he looks for a childhood friend who is too resentful and too in love with him

warnings: trauma, PTSD, spoilers for S&B season 2, no physical contact, here Kaz has no romantic feelings for Inej

A/N: I LOVE Kanej, but I wanted to write something with Kazzle Dazzle because I love him too, lol. I hope you like it!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @rustyyyyspoonz

The rumor had already spread throughout the Barrel: “Kaz Brekker and his crows are back” How long had it been since they had embarked into the Fold? Just a couple of months? They had felt like years, if you were being honest.

If it was true that they were back, you felt sorry for the trouble they were going to run into. The change of ownership of their club, the strengthening of the other gangs, and mainly the fact that they were being tried for murder thanks to the fact that Pekka Rollins had awarded it to them... all these problems were going to fall on them like a bucket of water cold. It had already fallen on them, in fact, since the rumor was accompanied that they had escaped from the stadwatch once they were captured.

You didn't know how much of what everyone was saying was true and how much was false, trying to stay as calm as possible when the name Kaz came from someone's lips for fear that Pekka had some magical ability and could read your mind or sense the fear in your eyes every time you met him. Afraid of him and afraid of what he might do to you if he knew you knew the black-haired man.

Things had changed a lot since the last time you saw the boy and that was more than noticeable. Your story goes back long before he made his reputation when you were just a couple of neighbor kids playing on the farms. You two arrived in Ketterdam together, with nothing but hopes for a better future and Jordie as your protector (or an attempt at that, at least), after your father and Mr. Rietveld died in the same accident, reuniting with Kaz’s mother and later to be matched by your mother, who had died of sadness, if that was possible. Three helpless children thrown into the cruel world were what came of that and the rest is history.

Crime, robbery, gangs, and a life of hardship were what you had to adjust to as a child, but you doubted very much that a single person living in The Barrel would be in a different situation. You weren't fully involved in the disgraced jobs of the majority, but if there was one true thing, it was that when it came to obtaining information you were, to say the least, excellent. You and Kaz had to fend for yourselves, and you learned what you could from the streets. In this way he and you became a team, so to speak, for a few teenage years, and for that period of your lives having each other was the only thing in the world. Over time he became ruthless, rude, a great fighter and earned the nickname 'dirtyhands' thanks to his gambling skills, from which he obtained most of the things you had. You learned to move quickly, to go unnoticed, and to defend yourself from those who tried to harm you, always supporting the boy’s plans.

Less than a year was enough for his name to become known and he began to think big. Sometimes he would tell you about the plans he had: to run Fifth Harbor, to establish the crow club, to become the best of The Barrel. All of that sounded like crazy ideas at first, but looking back you realized that he had accomplished too much in that pit for your relatively young age.

You never knew what made you and Kaz go their separate ways, but somehow it had happened. It was gradual, maybe that's why it was hard for you to notice, but one day you woke up and realized the distance that existed between him, who previously was practically the only family you knew, and you. It didn't take much for him to decide to break the bond that had held you together from a very early age; he never gave reasons for this and you never asked him.

You lived under some protection from the leader of The Crows, of course, but very few people could link you to The Bastard of the Barrel. Sometimes you still provided him with information, but when he found someone else, the inquiries became less and less frequent until one day they turned into none. You managed to eat and have a roof over your head pretty well (and mostly honestly) and you tried to stay out of trouble for a long time.

Until one day he flew away from Ketterdam without warning and order in the Barrel was disturbed in every possible way. With his team gone, it didn't take long for Pekka to seize control and anyone who didn't work for him was inevitably against him. It was only a matter of time before he found out the talent you had tried to hide and forced you to carry his lion shield... figuratively speaking.

If he ever knew that you used to work with Kaz he never mentioned it or maybe your relationship with him had been severed so long that no one remembered it anymore. Now you were just a little girl, as he used to call you, slippery enough that she seemed so harmless that, in his eyes, that became a benefit. You were never one to look rude, unfortunately for you, and that allowed men like him to feel entitled to take advantage of you. You thanked the saints that Rollins didn't find you attractive or who knows what other services he would have requested from you. It was always better to provide him with the information he needed than for him to force you to be his lover.

You weren't a part of the meetings that the Dime Lions had and you weren't considered a member either, which kept you calm every night. You were just another piece in the enormous chess game that Pekka moved at his convenience, the same game that was threatened by the mere existence of Kaz Brekker and much more so now that he had returned.

In the middle of the night it was logical to ask yourself, what kind of strange plans would he have in mind now?

One, two, and three knocks surprised you at the rickety wooden door and made you jump out of your chair, where you were already asleep. An old lamp was on the even older table and it illuminated the little space that your provisional home had so you took it to approach to open the door. It was raining outside (quite unusual for that time of year) and by the time it was you figured it was one of Rollins' idiots coming to do a job for you. What would he want now? Harbor information? Talk to a policeman? He was supposed to control everything, sometimes you kept wondering why he asked for your help.

When you opened the door, the air slipped in and almost extinguished the flame of the fire, but the temperature of the night wasn’t what left you freezing, but the presence that was in front of you. With his hat, a completely black outfit, and his cane in hand, but above all soaked from head to toe, there was him; Kaz. You almost feared you were imagining it, but you knew it was him by the clear, penetrating eyes that were watching you, even though you admitted that he had changed so much that in other circumstances you would have had trouble recognizing him.

“Did I arrive at a bad time?” he asked. No warm greetings, no smiles, no explanations. Just a cold, serious question, just the way he was.

“Someone followed you? If this place is horrible by itself, I don't want blood staining the floor” you replied with the same tone. You wanted to tell him that you had missed him, ask him if he was okay, and give him a huge hug, but those actions should be reserved for your nocturnal fantasies, because as soon as you took a step forward he would be able to hit you with his cane. Or at least that's what the Kaz you knew would do, but you doubted very much that the passing of the years would have softened his heart.

"Nobody followed me" was all he said and you stepped aside at the door so he could go inside. Even with his words, you felt the need to look out on both sides of the street in search of someone, but with the level of rain, you doubted very much that someone would want to stay and spy because he would probably die of pneumonia.

When you closed the door and turned around he didn't say anything, he just stood in front of you while the water drained from his coat. During that moment of silence, you allowed yourself to admire it under the warm light of the candle; his eyes definitely hadn't changed one bit, but now there was a tinge of contempt more noticeable than before. His features had hardened and he was thinner, barely resembling the boy you remembered, perhaps as a reminder of just that... that he was now a man.

“So the rumors are true…” you started to say “You are back”

"I think that's more than obvious," he exclaimed. For a second you forgot that it was he who had knocked on your door and you felt uncomfortable as if you were an intruder who had to get out of there.

There was silence again and you two just looked at each other. Kaz had made his own mental list of changes he noticed in you and was reflecting on when was the last time he had looked at you in such detail. You were wearing light clothes, because before he arrived you were about to go to sleep, and your face, although as childish as always, looked more tired than before. You had also cut your hair, which was messy around your shoulders and a bit darker in tone.

“And may I know to what I owe your visit? I guess you don't want to have tea” you said to break the silence. The dryness of your words in a certain way was to protect yourself because you never knew how much a sharp tongue like his could hurt you.

"I'm in a job and I need people"

Of course it was going to be due to a job, and of course that was why he had sought you out after so many years. A part of you, tremendously stupid, to tell you the truth, was hoping that during the time your friend was away from Ketterdam some divine clarity would have illuminated him so that he would realize that he had to look for you to repair your relationship and offer at least apologies. But you would have to pay him every kruge in the country for him to do something like that.

"I'm glad you considered me, but I'm sorry I have to decline."

"Why?" he asked immediately, his raspy voice showing annoyance at the refusal.

“Because it happens that you can’t work for opposing sides. At least not at the same time” you replied. Maybe it was due to fatigue, but you swore you saw a slight look of surprise on the man's face when you answered that. Most likely, he had assumed that you would be one of the few people who wouldn’t be on Pekka’s side and therefore a safe option.

“Do you work for Pekka?” he muttered. You knew him well enough to know that he was hurt, you could see it in his posture, in his voice, and especially in his look “After all he did to us?”

"And what did you want him to do?" you said, trying to ignore the fact that he had spoken in the plural. Us “You practically handed us over to him. My options were that or receive a bullet in the forehead."

"I didn’t hand you over to anyone"

"You abandoned us and left us in his hands, it's the same thing" you replied, shrugging. There was so much resentment and pain from never-closed wounds floating in the air that it was hard for him and you to think clearly. “Your vacation in Ravka may have been nice, but things only just went to hell here. So don't you dare judge me by the choices I made” you exclaimed defensively.

You didn't imagine that your first conversation with him after so long would be like this, but unfortunately, things never turned out the way you expected. After all, they were a crook and a spy talking in the dead of night.

"You could get information from him more easily," Kaz concluded, shrugging the same way you did. "And so we sink him from the inside."

"And risk him finding out and killing me?"

“You know that would never happen,” he said firmly “The thing about killing you. I wouldn't allow him” his eyes stared at you almost offended by the lack of trust you had towards him. There was silence for the third time and this time your gaze moved away to focus on anything but him.

"Plus you have this girl you took out of The Menagerie, don't you?" you said in your defense. The one you replaced me with, you wanted to add, but held back "So I don't know what you might need me for" 

"With so many problems going on, I thought it would be better to have as many alliances as possible," he explained to you. You continued without looking at him, with your head still full of worries and sorrows, and when he didn’t receive an answer, he spoke again "You know that it is your best option"

"I don't know that, but I do know that I would have liked you to at least ask how I am before asking me to join the team you never wanted me in and from which you separated me as soon as you had the chance" you exhaled, in an attempt to lighten the weight on your chest. 

It was no secret that you had always felt betrayed by Kaz’s treatment of you, even though he treated dozens of others the same way, because you somehow thought that your backstory was enough to deserve at least the sympathy or some consideration on the part of the crow. And of course you wanted to run from Pekka's clutches and plunge him into the deepest muck, but the resentment for what you considered your friend’s abandonment was stronger. You didn't even know if it was correct to call him ‘friend’.

"You would be a good ace up my sleeve" was all he replied, in an attempt to convince you. Kaz begged absolutely no one, but if there was one thing he had decided before coming to find you, it was that he wouldn't leave until you agreed to help him. Although the nature of your current job made things a bit difficult for him, "Pekka never knew you worked for me, did he?"

"With you" you corrected him "I didn't work for you but with you. We got to The Barrel at the same time”

"Y/N" he murmured. Your name sounded strange coming from his lips after so long without hearing it and that caught you off guard “I'm trying to help you so you don't end up hurt or dead. If you work for… with me, I can tell you where not to be. Otherwise I could find you in the rubble of some confrontation or with a knife from Inej or a bullet from Jesper through your chest”

"Always so thoughtful," you replied with a smirk, but as much as it pained you to admit it, he had a point. You knew what he was capable of and what Pekka was capable of… which side was more convenient to be on? "How much are you going to pay me?" you asked and Kaz smiled, but it wasn't a sign of happiness but mockery “You've always said that's what's really important, haven't you?”

He took something out of his coat and tossed it on the table. They were bills. 

"An advance, when I recover the crow club, I will pay you the rest"

“So my pay depends on whether we win or not. That doesn't sound so convenient to me,” you muttered, clicking your tongue, as you fought the urge to say yes just to be near him. It was cold outside, the rain was making a lot of noise and you just wanted to sleep at once, but you knew that you could have been arguing with him all night and neither of you would back down. Kaz was stubborn, one way or another he would get what he wanted. "This isn't just about the club, is it?" you said, with your voice noticeably lower and you would even say with a touch of softness. You and Kaz never talked about what had happened, but each of you was dealing with the weight of the trauma in your own way. He didn't say anything and this time you saw something in him that was different from his usual behavior, knowing that it was those ghosts from the past tormenting him.

"If someone should make him pay, it's us"

Us, again. 

"I'll think about it" was what you answered, after reflecting on what would be the appropriate response. The speechless moment gave you something else to think about, and you knew that a huge flaw of yours was how easily you let your heart take over. Because even with all the other feelings on top, you still worried about him "Now that the crow club isn't yours..." you started to say, afraid of what he might say "do you have a place to stay?"

You would have offered to sleep there if he said no, but instead he said he’d manage. That didn't completely reassure you, but you decided not to insist.

“First thing tomorrow, send a reply to this address,” he asked you, holding out a piece of paper that had a few drops on it “Don't go there personally or you'll screw everything up, just send me a note. A yes or a no will suffice”

“What if someone tracks down the note?” you asked, which was a totally valid concern.

Kaz was silent while he thought of an alternative, and then spoke again.

“Just write crows of a feather, murder together. I'll understand” he murmured and you nodded. You knew the poem he was quoting from, had read it many times from the worn-out book he had gotten for you. Kaz didn't wait for anything else and took long steps to the door, which he opened as soon as he could. "Good night, Y/N."

And then he left.

That night you thought a lot about the solution you would give him in the morning, thinking about the pros and cons of each possible answer, until you decided that it was best to say yes. You needed to do it if you wanted to live peacefully (as much as the place allowed) but the main reason was to support him. If he had been about any stupid dispute you would have said no, but you knew this was something else. Kaz missed Jordie every day of his life and his way of honoring him was by planning revenge against the one who led him to that fate, so it was kind of an obligation for you to help him with that too.

You wrote the note on a piece of paper and carefully folded it to put it in an envelope. You signed the outside with his name, written in the best handwriting you had, and although you were hesitant to do so, at the end you wrote a little ‘from a friend’ in the hope of making it clear to him, and perhaps even encouraging him that, if he was willing, you could recover a little of what you had lost. And you weren’t referring to physical things, but to what existed between you.

All your life you had lived with almost opposite feelings when it came to Kaz. Somehow you were upset with him for only seeing you as an instrument that he could dispose of for his interests, but this was linked to the feeling of affection that you wanted him to experience for you and that apparently didn’t exist. It was difficult to decipher anything he was thinking, not just about you, since he had taken it upon himself to build such a convincing facade that it made it complicated to see beyond. Added to that was his aversion to touch of any kind, which, while quite understandable and justified, still made you feel sad. More than once you tried, in vain, to be able to touch him in some way, even if it was something tiny, but he always pushed you away. He pushed you away physically and eventually emotionally, and yet with all this background you wanted to help him.

You knew you couldn't expect a reply to your note, but you were confident that he had received it, and your suspicions were confirmed when another letter came back a couple of days later. It contained a day, a time, and a place, which you assumed was a meeting with him.

You were very careful when you headed there, because you thought that the fewer people saw you together, the better, or else Pekka might suspect something. You covered yourself with a long black cloak for this task and when you arrived you noticed that it wasn't Kaz who was there, but a couple of boys.

"Who are you?"

"And you?" you asked, with the same defensive tone. The place seemed to be an experiment workshop and looking at it in more detail you noticed that there was a bed, so it could even be some kind of apartment. The two men, one brown-skinned and the other pale as snow, wore simple brown suits and were looking at you warily.

“She is Y/N,” said a voice behind you. By the sound of the cane accompanied by the footsteps you knew it was Kaz, “she will work with us”

"Oh," said the dark-haired boy, looking happier with the answer, as he walked in your direction "Welcome, in that case" he muttered flirtatiously, as he held out his hand for you to greet him "Jesper Fahey, at your service”

"I am Wylan" intervened the other, from his place, timidly and quickly.

"You arrived" Kaz spoke again. You turned and a couple of women appeared, you guessed that the shorter one with Suli features was the famous wraith of Kaz. And she was beautiful, you couldn't help but notice.

There was a brief conversation with the six of you there and then Kaz asked you to walk him up to the roof of the place. Once there you instinctively stood next to the only one you knew and he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye while he adopted the typical position of him leaning on the cane.

“Brick by brick” whispered the man’s raspy voice and you were about to ask what you were supposed to do there when an explosion went off in the distance so impressively that you stepped back a bit. It didn't take you more than a few seconds to locate the space and realize the place it was.

"The crow club" you said in a low voice, only for the black-haired man to hear you, while you watched him in profile. But he didn't look at you, just exchanged words with the others and talked about how Pekka's apparent reign was coming to an end.

You'd always known that Kaz Brekker was a little unhinged, and that night you proved it for sure, but you weren't even the least bit afraid. Rather, it was some strange hope that this madness would allow you to go far. Even freedom, perhaps.

After that clear declaration of war, things got considerably complicated, especially when you were summoned before Pekka and he asked you to investigate someone in particular and it turned out to be none other than the man you were now secretly working with. You assumed it was something logical, but even so you feared that Rollins had noticed the slight tremor in your hands when he asked you to complete the task.

You summoned Kaz to Black Veil Cemetery, late at night, and there you confessed to him everything that had happened. He of course found something good in this and devised a way to use it to your advantage, which put you at ease. It still amazed you a little at how nervous you became around him as if you knew nothing of what you were doing, but when you regained your composure you thought it was an excellent plan.

Meetings with Kaz were regular, but always in secret and alone, and they worked to exchange information that you considered useful for him with what he would allow Pekka to know.

You didn't know the full plans and you weren't part of them in any way, or you would be found out, but you knew about almost everything that was going on. The attacks, the fights, the traps, the injuries... you had to look at everything from the outside without being able to intervene. It was frustrating for you, more than anything in the world, and you had to admit that you had taken a liking to crows, even if you had seen them only a couple of times, so you also looked after their safety.

One day you received a note and went to a meeting with all the members of his group present, to finally hear the full version of what Kaz intended to do to finish off your boss. It was a brilliant idea, but you were a little worried about your position in all of this.

“You mean I'm going to be there watching everything Pekka and his thugs do?”

"It will be the best" he answered you. His face still had a bruise on his cheek, a memory from the last fight he had, and he looked exhausted "Jesper and Nina will be there, plus you'll be in disguise" he added and you nodded at that.

When the moment came you thought it would be an easy task, but when Kaz started to get brutally beaten you had to muster all your willpower not to throw yourself into trying to face Pekka, even with your zero skill. He sounded so convincing when he said about Alby that even you believed it, feeling suddenly awed by the cynical smile on Kaz's blood-smeared face. And he also mentioned you in the story, although not directly, saying that it was all about revenge for having abandoned you two when you were children.

You were able to breathe again until Pekka and his entire gang left the place in search of a son who wasn't really buried and you four were left alone. Under other circumstances you would have run to Kaz, cupped his face in your hands, sobbed, and told him it was over. But instead, you just stood in front of him and watched him; his eyes were wild with fury and a thirst for revenge that had already been quenched, but you sensed a hint of calm when he became aware of your presence.

"Breathe," you said in a whisper. Jesper and Nina were dismayed by the closeness with which you spoke to him, as they knew little of your history together “You're fine. We all are,” you assured him. That situation took you back to multiple panic attacks in the past where, given the impossibility of physical contact, all you could do for him was talk to calm him down. It always worked and Kaz had forgotten how soft your voice was and the way you brought him back to the real world. You decided to risk trying to do something else to comfort him and cautiously stretched out your hand towards him, instantly seeing his eyes widen in terror. But your hand ended up landing, more like a touch than a squeeze, on the man's bicep, which was covered by his coat; it wasn't intrusive, or abrupt, and Kaz was surprised that he didn't feel anything negative about it. He looked at your hand and then he looked at you with that usual serious expression, but he didn't push you away and allowed you to stay that way for just a few seconds, after which you decided to move your limb back.

You didn’t receive a verbal response at any time, but you did see him exhale shakily (so softly that you barely noticed) and nod his head while still looking at you, as if he were letting go of a huge weight that was stuck in his chest and at the same time assure you that it felt like a victory. Victory for beating Pekka, victory because he wasn't engulfed by an attack when you touched him, and victory because somehow you were there. You were with him, again.

“Now can we go back to normal?” Jesper asked, to break the silence, and you felt like laughing. Have they ever had a normal life? you asked yourself, but you didn't say.

"Yes" was all Kaz said and taking one last look at you he began to walk in the direction of the exit.

Both of them were curious about the type of relationship you had with Kaz but neither thought it wise to ask at the time, although Nina was getting an idea of things thanks to your racing heartbeat and his that it was impossible not to hear a moment ago. You stayed there just long enough to have a drink with Jesper and then you left the Emerald Palace. You didn't want to go back home, but going with one of them didn't seem like an option either, and once you were on the street you felt worried about remembering the state the black-haired man had left. You trusted that by that time he would be calmer and as if they thought for themselves your legs began to walk to look for him.

It was cold again and you feared you would meet someone dangerous on the road, but you only saw a couple of drunks and a girl looking for clients. Until you were in front of the door, you wondered if it was a good idea to go in, thinking that you would probably be crossing a line that Kaz was not going to allow you to, and wondering if you were going to put up with his refusal, which was a pretty good chance.

With trembling hands you opened the door, which luckily was unlocked, and as if some unknown instinct were guiding you, you found Kaz's room; it was the only one from which light came out through the crack in the door and something told you that he was there. You knocked twice, fearing you had knocked so low that he hadn't heard, and even considered walking back the way you came, but didn't have time to as the door opened a few seconds later. He had already taken off his coat and vest, probably because they were stained with blood, and his black shirt was open at the top buttons, with the suspenders that held up his pants hanging on his thighs. But what caught your attention the most were his pale, gloveless hands.

"What do you need?" he asked you directly. His face looked worse now that the bruises had swollen and the blood was dry. He'd probably have them for a couple of days, and he was definitely going to have a scar over his eyebrow.

"I wanted to see you" you replied, instantly regretting not having considered your sincere words better "I mean... to see how you were" you tried to correct. You thought he would slam the door in your face, but instead he scooted to the side to let you in, then closed the door behind you with a soft click.

Again you felt alien to the place for a moment, thanks to the fact that he looked at you from head to toe as if your presence bothered him. You had to mentally remind yourself that he saw most of them that way.

“Your pay will be ready soon”

"That doesn't matter," you said softly. Several things had changed since the first conversation you had with him, because now that you knew why Kaz had done everything he had done and the traumatic memories returned to both of you, the money had taken a backseat.

You didn't say anything for a moment and you looked for a place where you could sit later. Kaz’s room, once painted green but now just damp walls, had a small bed by the window, a desk littered with papers and a lamp facing another window, with a simple bookcase placed on the top of the side wall; a nightstand, a place to wash your hands with a mirror above it, a circular table in the middle of the free space, and a single armchair that at least looked comfortable. It wasn't the prettiest place, but at least it was cozy.

"Your girl, did she leave?"

“Inej is not my girl. Or from anyone, she is free now” he answered you. He still wasn't looking at you and you noticed that he was having a hard time staying on his feet.

"I'm glad to hear it. She deserves it” you murmured sincerely. You thought that she would be important to Kaz, like all his partners, and you decided to venture out to see if he revealed something else to you. "She's very smart."

"She is"

"And she's pretty too" you added and without moving his head he looked out at yours. You felt as if he was reading your intentions through your eyes, a quality he had always had.

"I think so," he said without much interest.

"Are you very hurt?" you asked, changing the subject, as you took a step towards him. By inertia he took the same step, in the opposite direction, and that made you stop abruptly.

"Nothing to worry about" he exclaimed and though he thought, you couldn't have known, of course, get close to you, you decided to take that step back before he did anything else. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Mhm"

"What did I do to make you walk away?" you exclaimed, finally expressing a question that had been eating away at your chest and tormenting you for many nights in a row. And since there was silence, you spoke again: “Not like right now, but a long time ago. It's just… I never understood it. Before we were friends and for me… you were even like a family. I loved your brother too and I know losing him never affected us the same, but I was glad you were there for me after that. Then we got older and things got more difficult, but I still had you and that calmed me down. And then… we just drifted apart,” you muttered, shrugging, as you avoided his gaze. Kaz still didn't answer anything and you felt the obligation to fill the silence “Sometimes I remember the things we went through when we were young. The good ones, of course. Like that time we stole a cake to celebrate your birthday and it was probably the best sweet I've ever eaten” you commented, smiling at the memory "And when I made you laugh with my bad jokes, no matter how angry or sad you were... I haven't seen you smile for a long time and I don't know if you celebrate your birthday anymore” you reflected wistfully, almost as if you were talking to yourself. And well, in the face of Kaz's inexpressiveness, that's practically what you were doing.

He hadn't said anything yet and you concluded that all your effort was useless. It had been a mistake to go looking for him, as well as trying to get even the slightest proof that he had ever missed you and you wished you had never opened your mouth. You sighed to contain the urge to cry and without saying anything else you turned towards the exit, intending to leave and return only for your money, but Kaz's voice echoed. 

"Do you remember what I told Pekka?"

You stopped.

“You told him many things, you will have to be more specific”

"About not loving anything" he replied. Your hand trembled on the doorknob at the mere thought of what he was implying and I was able to hear your racing heart pounding in your chest. You heard footsteps and, still without moving, you heard him speak again "That's why I drifted apart”

You never, even in your wildest dreams, imagined that he would say something like that to you and perhaps you were just deluding yourself with the implication of the words, but it was enough to make you freeze in place.

"I still don't understand how that relates to me” you expressed in a low voice. Kaz took a few more steps towards you until you could see his shadow mingling with yours and you felt it was time to turn. He was watching you from above, seriously.

"I didn't want…" he trailed off. You would almost say he was nervous “I didn't want you to be…”

"A weak spot," you said without thinking, followed by a sigh that sounded almost amused "That's your problem, Kaz," you continued, your gaze far across the room, "You think love is a person's greatest weakness, when it's not like that"

"It is not?"

"No" you exclaimed with determination "I believe that... many times love is what keeps us alive. Struggling"

You were speaking for yourself when you said this. What was your motivation every day? In the past, the love for Kaz. Now, it was love for yourself and the hope that one day someone could love you with the intensity with which you loved others.

“I had already lost Jordie. I didn't want to lose you too,” he finally said and that's when your eyes locked with his. You never thought he would verbally express something like that.

“And did you prefer that I lose you?" you whispered in pain. You wanted him to be aware of things, because it seemed like it had never crossed his mind to stop thinking about your well-being and start thinking about your feelings. “You don't just lose someone when they die, Kaz. You can also lose those who are fully alive”

He didn't say anything, because he clearly didn't know what to answer to that, and while he reflected on your words, you caught a glimpse of a certain vulnerability in his blue eyes that you had rarely seen. I couldn't say that you knew the man in front of you better than anyone, but you had a considerable advantage thanks to the years you had lived with him.

“Okay, just… listen” you started to say, knowing he most likely wouldn't give you an answer “I know it's hard to live as we do— as all of us at The Barrel live, but the risks I decide or don't take. They are my decision, not yours. These years you have sought to keep me out of danger and I appreciate it, but you have to learn to trust me”

"I do. I trust you"

"Then show me," you replied. You couldn't help noticing that, even with his stained face, Kaz was still the most handsome man you'd ever seen “Friends do not avoid each other, nor do they move away and despite that, during all these years I have trusted you as from the first moment we were left alone”

You didn't know if you were saying the right thing, but at least you were saying something.

"And if it's too late?"

It was too late? Kaz wondered. He wondered if it was too late to open up to someone, to try to get over his trauma, to let go and finally love you the way he wanted to.

But all this remained as a thought, phrases that couldn’t leave his throat.

“It's not for me,” you assured him. “But my patience won't last forever. I think you should know that”

You couldn't even imagine how many emotions Kaz was trying to process at that moment, but even he himself didn't understand what a mess you'd made of him with that conversation. From his perception, he had admitted that he loved you, but from his eyes, you didn't seem affected by it. And you, contrary to what he thought, felt like you were going to faint.

You were about to leave, for the second time, but he spoke:

“Stay,” he said, sounding more desperate than he would have liked. “I don't know what to say, but… just stay here. I don't want us to be alone tonight”

Us. That fucking habit of Kaz's to speak in the plural and make you a nervous wreck.

You looked at the bed and found that it was too small for both of you, to which we had to add his refusal to be close to others. Proof of this was the unconscious movement of sticking your hands as close as possible to his body during the entire time you were talking.

"Use the bed, obviously you need it more than me" you muttered and went directly to the armchair. Fortunately your first impression wasn’t wrong, it was very comfortable.

The room was so small that the apparent distance between the pieces of furniture didn't mean much, so when he sat on the bed you could see him perfectly.

The memory of one of the times when both of you were in similar situations came to your mind. That night you had been woken by frightened screams from the next room, in that abandoned house where you and Kaz found shelter, forcing you out of bed to investigate.

It was hard to comfort a person without physically touching them, especially when he had nightmares, and over the months you'd had to get used to it. The boy hated waking you up, it made him feel guilty and stupid, but you always kept him company. You never spoke, never asked questions, you just stayed there so he knew he wasn't alone.

Maybe something like that was what Kaz needed tonight. 

"Rest" you exclaimed. His head turned to look at you and you detected a different and special glow in his eyes; as if it were a mixture of fear, softness, and gentleness. You appreciated that look for a few more seconds, which you feared you would never see again in your life, and then you reached out your hand to turn off the light on the desk.

Silence reigned in the darkness.

You settled in the chair, trying to figure out what would be the best sleeping position, and at the same time you heard Kaz slide between the sheets on the bed. After a while, your eyelids felt heavy, a consequence of the fatigue that the hustle and bustle of the day had left you, and when you were about to fall asleep, a voice pulled you out of your reverie.

"Thank you. For everything”

The phrase was a whisper, a delicate caress in your ear, but you understood it clearly. And you decided to think that when Kaz said 'for everything' he meant literally everything you had selflessly done for him during his life; like he just realized you were important. But it's not that he had just noticed it, but that he had just accepted it.

You wanted to stretch out the moment as long as you could because, even if you weren't looking at him, you knew he was awake thanks to the sound of his breathing, but at some point sleep overcame you and you fell fast asleep.

Kaz had nightmares that night, like always, but the difference was that when he woke up in shock in the morning, you were in the same room. So seeing you there, keeping him company, was reason enough to calm him down.

And like every time this had happened, he felt like the luckiest man in the world.

[mydarlingclaudia]

taste no evil

note : divider is from @/adornedwithlight. this fic does have dark content in it I totally get it if you don’t wanna read <3 this was inspired by the vvitch, it’s not totally like it but it made me wanna write something witch-y (????? I know nothing about witches this is just idk) I rewrote this a couple of times this is the version I ended up liking the most even though the last couple thousand words suck ass :P

wc : 6.9k

tags : @withonly-sweetheart @clitorphosis

desc : it's just you and your husband out in the woods. oh, and whatever is living among the trees. you think it's some beastly animal, Leon knows it's witches. but he can't tell you that, you'd freak out, insist on moving closer to town or even further away from where you already lived. Leon can keep you safe, he knows he can, why must you be so paranoid all the time? it doesn't help his case when your animals start being picked off and you start seeing things more clearly. it only ends badly for the both of you. established relationship, tiny bit of fluff, gore, animal death, I make shit up about witches, cannibalism, major character death, au, fem!reader, re4r!Leon

back to the party <3

You’re hearing things in the woods at night. Not your usual deer or coyote or flock of birds, it’s something different, you don’t know what. Your husband hears it, too. It doesn’t sound like the wind, even though that’s what he says it is every time you sit up in bed in the dead of night and squeeze his arm, digging your fingernails into his skin until he wakes up.

Leon begs that you never leave your bed to go and see what scrapes against the windowpanes, that you stay with him and let him be the one to deal with it if anything were to get in. It couldn’t be the dog, his bark sounded much different than whatever this noise was. It couldn’t be neighbors, the closest house was two miles west, town was six miles further. It couldn’t be children, you were yet to have any.

When you go out in the morning to check on your animals, they’re all still there. All ten chickens, all four sheep, both your horses, the three goats, the four pigs, and one cat all remain. The cat hadn’t been yours originally, just showed up one night, Leon let it stay because it controlled the mouse population even though it fights with the dog. Nothing seems to be getting into your garden, either. That doesn’t settle your unease, though.

It’s even worse when Leon has to leave. Since town is so far, whenever he has to leave to go get medicine or supplies or something else, he was usually gone for the day. Sometimes, he’d get stuck in town or it got too dark to see the dirt road back to your home, on those days when he wouldn’t come back, you could hardly sleep, curled up on his side of the bed, your knees tucked into your chest, breathing quietly to hear every creak in the house.

But Leon always returns to you, and he kisses the top of your head and holds you tight while you scold him for taking so long to get back.

Your crops aren’t growing anymore, you know it’s because fall is nearing its end and the morning dew that coats the ground in the morning is beginning to freeze, but the thought that this isn’t because of some force of nature still looms in the back of your mind. It’s okay, though, because Leon will run out to town and get whatever vegetables you may need if they haven’t already been stockpiled in your pantry. You try to refrain from asking him to go out and get things for you, you try to keep him home whenever you’re able to, partly because of you missing him, the other part because of fear. 

Leon takes things well, he always does, that’s why it’s his job to calm you down. You’ve already spent three winters in these woods, you really shouldn’t be so worried about the things that naturally change with the seasons. Leon still goes out to chop wood and bring it back in, he still assures you that the animals aren’t out there freezing, and if there is a problem, he’s quick to fix it. You should try to take things as lightly as he does. 

It’s warm inside your home, though. You’re happy for that. You spend more and more of your days inside, tending to the fire and cooking over it, even if you’re still cold, Leon wastes no time in wrapping you up in his arms. 

Leon’s home again, finally. He spent the day in town yesterday, apparently it takes a while to buy ammunition and fabrics, but you don’t fight with him about it. Leon comes back inside with another armful of freshly chopped wood, stacking them next to the fireplace where you had already lit a fire. Your back is to him, you’re too focused on chopping up the deer meat Leon had brought home last week. The sounds of your knife hitting the cutting board again and again drown out Leon’s steps as he comes up behind you, you only know he’s there when he wraps his arms around your middle and presses his chest to your back.

The kisses he presses to your neck are soft, his body warm against your own. You stop your chopping and rest your head atop of his, this happens most nights, Leon holding you while you cook for him and yourself. 

“I’ll hunt more tomorrow,” He murmurs against your skin, “Another deer, maybe a turkey.”

“Whatever you want,” 

“You can come along if you want.” 

“You know I don’t wanna go in the woods.” 

“It’s not that bad during the day, I wouldn’t let anything get you, you know that.” 

“If I go with you then who will watch the house?”

“The dog,” He scoffs lightly, pulling away from your neck and squeezing you closer. “I won’t make you join me, I just wish you weren’t so afraid.” You sigh and continue chopping, Leon knew you wouldn’t go, anyway. But he’s certain nothing would be after you in the day, hiding behind the trees, breathing down the back of your neck, making you flinch away. It’s probably better this way, he knows that nothing with the women in the woods is certain, but if he can keep you safe and keep you happy, then maybe you’ll forget about those things outside the house. 

You can’t know about them, not the way that he knows them. If you see them, those women, those witches, he hopes you think nothing more of them than someone lost in the dark, looking for town, but Leon knows about them all too well. Leon knows they aren’t a frightened young woman knocking on your door at night, asking you to spare her some food and a place to rest until morning. He knows they aren’t coming from the city, marveling at the quaint home you’ve made for yourself on her way to town. He knows they aren’t a new neighbor from a mile or two away, bringing you a fresh apple pie to introduce themself and get to know the delightful young couple a bit better. 

Leon found them not long after the noises at night started. He had been coming back in from the outhouse and found a woman in just a torn up, bloody nightgown stalking around your house. He hadn’t known what to do, simply just stared and tried to quiet his breathing. Well, she noticed him, Leon was sure he was about to die, but the girl just smiled, showing off her bloody teeth before running past the animal pens and into the woods. Leon went back inside, wishing that it had been nothing more of a dream, but you noticed how something had frightened him and he knew nothing he told you would ease you. But you called him brave for going out there. 

He saw the witch again a few days later when he was coming back home from town. She didn’t threaten him, didn’t make any move to hurt him, hardly even tried to intimidate him. Just watched him from the side of the dirt road and followed him for a few yards until he stopped his horse and confronted her. Again, she presented those bloody teeth to him in a smile he knew he’d see more times than he’d like. 

She instantly began to speak of you, that’s when the subtle threats found their way into the conversation; “Pretty wife that you have, I was like her.” “I hope she isn’t too scared, but you take good care of her, don’t you?” “My friends like her, too. Shame that she doesn’t come out to see us.”. Leon could hardly stand it, he tried to dismiss the woman, told her that you weren’t the kind for rituals and sacrifices, but she wouldn’t let up about it.

“I’m sure you’d keep her safe, that’s what a good husband does.” The witch had giggled, circling his horse like she was sizing up a plate of food. 

“Please, just leave us be.” She hadn’t even looked at him, keeping her eyes on the horse beneath him who was starting to shift in its place. “What do you want so badly, huh? Why my wife? What would make you back away from her?” When he said it, it wasn’t an offering of any kind. But the witch took it that way, gave him a grin that would continue to make him sick, and he knew that was it. 

Leon would make a deal with the witch, then she told her little friends and they all joined in. He became the errand boy, a pet for the witches, a man desperate for his wife not to become what they were. He did as they asked, stomaching down whatever disgusting they would have him do every few nights. “Bring me a young man.” “Bring me a virgin girl.” “The head of a goat, I need it.” “Butcher us a lamb, bones, organs, flesh. Tonight.” Leon did it all. In return, your safety would go on for longer, these errands would become what most of his trips into town were actually about, but he’d bring something back for you so his story would be believable. 

You could never find out. 

The worry never leaves you no matter how badly Leon wishes it would. Soothing you gets less and less easy with each night that you’re up, trying to decide if it’s one of your animals making that noise or your imagination. So you keep yourself busy, Leon does the same, desperate to be by you during the day in case those women finally decide it’s time and that he’s no longer needed. 

“I will stay,” You look over your shoulder and smile at him, stopping again to gather the slabs of meat into your hands. “You’re a better shot than I am, anyway.”

–

You can see your breath in the air, the cold wind nips at whatever skin is exposed as you drag the knife down the deer's front, the fur pulling back and exposing the white flesh hidden beneath. 

Leon had gone hunting, as he said he would. He brought you home a deer, this one is to make jerky of and keep stored, it’s always best to keep extra meat around in the winter. Odd thing was that as soon as he had dropped the deer off in the yard, he came inside for a quick kiss as a goodbye, saying he needed to run into town, you didn’t question him even though you really should have. 

Nonetheless, the warmth of the deers bare skin warmed your cold fingers, you almost found yourself leaning into it. You’ll make something of its coat, be it a rug or something to heat the inside of a jacket, so long as it serves some use. Blood trickles down out of the gash in its throat and the bullet in its eye into the metal pail beneath the deer’s head while you continue to skin it, the deer sways slightly from where it’s strung up because of the force of your cuts. 

You learned how to butcher things because of Leon, it was before you were married, but it proved to be a useful skill to have when you had a rabbit infestation in your yard back when you lived in town. 

Once it's fully skinned, you slice down the middle, crack the ribs and push them apart, and you’re met with the hot, red insides of a dead deer. The steam from its body comes up to warm your hands, and you let it be that way for a few minutes. Some of the organs fall to the dirt floor of the barn after a minute, you cut out whatever hadn’t slipped away already. You cut down its groin until you hit the first rib, then follow along that until you pull the meat away and set it on the butcher's table a few feet to your right. Repeat on the other side, cut out the tenderloins, get behind the deer and cut horizontally where its back meets its legs, then slowly start to cut along the spine and- 

The cat rubbing up against your boots and licking at the deers spilled organs stops you, you never did find a fitting name for the cat, but you loved her nonetheless. You give her a soft kick and she stops to stare up at you, licking at the blood that coats the fur around her mouth. “Stop that,” You scold quietly, she doesn’t understand you, she never does. You give her another soft kick, pushing her away from where you’re working, “Go, kitty. Shoo.” She finally leaves you, rubbing up against wooden beams on her way out of the barn, you’re about to begin your cutting again, but the dog barking tears you from your focus.

You wait a few seconds, hope that he stops barking, but an angered yell is only accompanied with the awful noise. You stab your knife into the wooden table with a huff, leave the barn, go around to the front of the house and look around, but you find no one at your door or in the yard or even by the animal pens. You look around for a few minutes, wondering if you have missed someone, but all that you can see is your animals. 

The dog comes to you, panting with his tongue out, he has that smiley look that all dogs have. You kneel to pat his head, but he barks and turns from you before scampering off past the pens, you follow after him. Nothing is unusual, nothing is out of place. You count all the animals that you see, make sure no fences are broken and that there’s nothing hiding around the corner.

You almost trip over the dog when you stop, he sits there, looking out at the treeline, barking softly. A chill runs through you, but when you look down and see the trail of footprints in the mud that leads from the sheep pen and out into the woods, it feels like your whole body has gone numb. 

How could you have missed this? How did you not hear someone wandering around your property? Surely the animals would’ve started squealing and cawing if they had been disturbed, right? If they let this fly by, then what did they let pass through at night? Is this what the dog deals with most nights?

Leon’s getting an earful when he gets home.

–

Leon’s met with you pacing around the home when he finally returns late at night. You should have been in bed by now, awake and waiting. The deer had been butchered and stored away so you could finish cooking it tomorrow, but the yelling, he hadn’t been ready for the yelling. 

You repeat yourself over and over about how someone had come to the house today, and how that someone had wandered through the yard and had gotten chased away by the dog. You keep telling Leon about how you hadn’t heard them when you should’ve, how the animals didn’t even make the faintest noise when they passed through without a sound. Leon knows who it is, of course he does, why wouldn’t he? He really should know better than to trust those women, but he can either ignore them and let them take you, or he can do as they say and leave you here by yourself knowing they may not honor the safety deal that had been agreed upon. Lose-lose situation. 

Leon hates leaving you, he really does. This does nothing to ease him. He doesn’t know what would’ve happened to you or the animals if the witch hadn’t been chased away, he doesn’t know if it’s happened before, but he knows that it will probably happen again and that he’ll get scolded by the witches for letting his dog scare one of them like that.

You’re still talking his ear off, Leon simply sits at the edge of the bed and stares at you as you pace around your house in your nightgown. You look so worried, it pains Leon.

“Next time- Next time I’m coming to town with you.” You don’t even look at him when you talk, you’re really just talking to yourself, but he listens. “I wish that you had been here, you could’ve- I-I dunno! You could’ve done something!”

“Done what?” Leon muses from his seat on the bed, resting his chin on his hand. You finally turn to face him, your worried look replaced with a glare.

“I don’t know. Kept watch? I don’t mind strangers, but this is scary, Leon. I don’t want someone snooping around our house, and if that’s what I’m hearing outside in the night then- Then I want them out of here!” You walk closer to him, your hands are all over the place as you confess your worries to him for the umpteenth time. 

“I know, I know. I don’t like this anymore than you do, and I promise to you that I’ll take care of it.” Take care of it means beg the women in the woods to not come to your house when he’s sent away on an errand. That’s why he left in a rush yesterday. One of those girls found him in the woods and demanded he bring her some of an old man's livestock. He can’t say no. All Leon can do now is listen to you talk and think of a way to fix this. 

“Leon, please. I- I’m scared. You know that.” You finally stop in front of him, the tears that well up in your eyes make his heart ache. He reaches out, holding your hand in his, pulling you closer. 

“I hate seeing you worry like this, you’ll go gray by the end of the year.” He tries to joke, it does get a small giggle from you, that’s good. “I’m never going to let anything hurt you, you have my word. Things are gonna get better, I’ll be here, I’ll watch the house, make you feel better.” He gives your hands a squeeze, you nod your head and sit down next to him on the bed, he takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulder and rest his head on top of yours. “We’ll be okay.”

You nod your head beneath his, sucking back the snot in your nose and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“I’m sorry things are like this, I hope you know I’m trying to make things as easy as possible for you.”

“I know that, but you being gone so much doesn’t make me feel as safe as you think it does.” Leon sighs through his nose and brings a hand up to stroke your hair. Oh, how he wishes things were as simple as they once were. 

“I love you.” Is all he can think to say.

“I love you, too.” 

Leon holds you like that for a few moments, listening to your breathing soften as you burrow into the side of his neck. Tomorrow will be different, he hopes. He hopes he can cook up that deer meat with you, sit with you and watch you sew while he reads to you, maybe tomorrow night will be special. But that’s always how he hopes things turn out to be until he has to head back to town again. 

The moment is interrupted by a pained yelp from outside, it’s made by an animal, you bolt upright, already thinking about what could be happening outside the four walls of your home. Leon doesn’t do anything just yet, he sits for another few seconds, but he’s met with growling and more yelps.

“Stay here, please.” Leon says softly, he kisses your forehead as he grabs the lantern from the nightstand, stands from the bed and walks to the door, grabbing his shotgun before stepping out into the cool night air. You do as he says, good wife that you are. That rush of fear finds its way back into your body, you hear Leon yell. The shotgun is fired once, then a second time, a more human scream following after the second shot, you hold back a sob. 

After maybe five minutes pass, you can’t take it. 

You pluck Leon's coat off of a chair and throw it on over your nightgown, you don’t bother with shoes when you get to the front door and open it. You’re scared to find Leon dead on the ground even though he’s the one with the gun, you shuffle slowly around the corner of the house. There’s snow under your feet, it’s barely any, really. But you can feel the softness of it that melts when you step on it, only for it to melt and soak into your skin.

“Leon?” You call out. And you find him, by the far end of the house, kneeling over something. The shotgun is on the ground, so is the lantern, you still can’t see very well even as you make your way closer. “Leon, you-” You cut yourself when you finally reach him. You stare at your dead dog from over his shoulder, Leon knows you’re there because he’s gone completely still. Words die in your throat as you take in the sight of the canine's organs that’ve been torn from its body, they stain the snow a dark red. Poor thing, it curled itself into a ball trying to chew out its own guts, its jaw is still open, sharp, bloody teeth out on display. The sight is awful, the smell is even worse, you know you won’t forget it. 

Leon can hear your breathing quicken behind him, he turns to look at you. Your eyes are blown wide, mouth agape, chest heaving, you look like you’re about to puke. He quickly stands when you finally turn away from the bloody sight and lean over, one hand holding your stomach while the other covers your mouth. You’ve seen plenty of disgusting things, you’ve helped birth animals, you’ve butchered more game than you can even remember, but this is wrong. 

Leon wraps his arms around your hunched over form, whispering quick “I know,”’s and “It’s alright,”’s. You pant for a few more seconds before the feeling of acid in your stomach finally starts to fade, Leon continues to hold you and rub your arm, trying to reassure you. 

The animals made no noise, you can feel them watching you, though. They didn’t make any noise when the stranger came by earlier, they didn’t make any noise when your dog was attacked, they didn’t make any noise when Leon shot at something you didn’t get the chance to see. 

Instead of puking, you start sobbing, leaning into Leon’s touch as he brings you to sit on the cold ground so he can try and hold you tighter. The kisses he places on your face do little to help ease your shaken state, tears well up in his eyes as well, but his tears are for a different reason.

–

What was Leon thinking, shooting at a witch? 

He had hit her, he’s always been a good shot, but it had only been in the arm, she wouldn’t die. Though, he knows that this is only going to get him into trouble and put you at more risk. 

He assumes that she had attacked the dog because of how it had chased her away earlier that day, who knows what would happen now. Seeing you cry didn’t make him feel better about anything, and now he knows you’re going to need him now more than ever. He does your chores for you, he doesn’t even try to pry you off of him when you don’t let him get up from your bed in the morning. As much as he enjoys being close to you, he knows that this is partly his fault. 

You hardly sleep now, neither does he. The two of you cling to each other at night, you both listen to the noises that come from outside your home, trying to tell when they get too close.

You don’t ask him about what happened, you don’t want to know, but you know that there’s something he hasn’t told you. Maybe it’s better that way, maybe you haven’t just been hearing things this whole time and there’s something Leon knows that you don’t. But your ignorance has kept you safe thus far, right? Sure, you’re scared, but nothing’s hurt you. As much as you want to ask Leon about what he may or may not know, you stop yourself. Now probably isn’t a good time, you don’t want to get into a fight with him, especially when you feel like you’ll die if he has to leave again. 

You know he didn’t kill your dog, you know he tried to save it, but the person he shot– you heard it, you know you did. 

You try thinking about who it could’ve been, why they’d come to your house at such a late hour, why Leon didn’t go after them, but you come up with nothing in the end. You don’t like thinking about it, it drives you crazy, but you really can’t help it. Even though you have your doubts and your fears, you never pull away from Leon’s touch, you can’t risk losing it.

–

Leon hasn’t left in nearly three weeks, which you don’t mind in the slightest. 

You have enough vegetables, you don’t need any tools, anything that you need, you have. The roads are probably too packed with snow to even get anywhere and not get lost or freeze, anyway. 

The only problem you’re really starting to run into is with the animals. They keep fighting with each other, three of the chickens have already been killed by the others, their eyes pecked out, feathers torn off, chest ripped open. Your billy goat had killed one of the other goats, ramming its horns into her side until he ended up impaling her, Leon separated the billy goat from the other goat quickly after that. The sheep and horses don’t seem as bad as the others, well, they’re not violent, but they are sick. The pigs are fighting with each other more than normal, they keep biting one another and fighting over food even though there’s plenty for all of them. You make Leon deal with those things. 

You still had that deer meat from the one Leon had brought home a few weeks ago, you’ve mostly been eating that. There’s something wrong with the chicken eggs, when you crack them, instead of a white yolk and clear, slimy insides coming out, all you get is an already popped yolk that’s turning green and chunky egg whites. The smell is awful, you can’t imagine how bad it would taste. It’s with all the eggs, neither you or Leon know what to do about it. 

Even if there were good eggs, the chickens would have eaten them before you would get the chance to collect them. They do it now with these disgusting eggs they lay, they don’t seem to mind, they keep fighting them, the inside of the coop is a mess. 

You’ve tried cooking up the chicken and goat meat, but the meat is already rotting. It doesn’t make sense. Winter has begun, the earth is frozen over, your animals have been dead for barely two days and there’s already bugs living inside the graying flesh. It disgusts you. Leon apologizes for it all, you aren’t sure why, it’s not his fault the animals are being this way. You feed whatever untouched bits you can find to the cat. 

Leon’s gone out hunting since the dog has died, you went with him this time. Even with Leon, you find nothing to eat. No deer pass through, not a rabbit burrowing in the snow, nothing. Just a few birds that are so small they’d be blown apart by the force of a bullet. It’s fine, the deer meat should last you for a bit longer, and if you really need to, you can just kill one of the pigs. Anything you eat tastes rotten, you’re not sure why, it should be perfectly fine. Maybe it’s something in your head.

It’s colder now, though. It won’t stop snowing and you’re trying to save as much firewood as you can so Leon doesn’t have to keep going out into the deep snow to get more wood everyday. 

You don’t like seeing Leon so worried. He’s too stiff when he holds you, he’s been so on edge for the past few weeks, more than you’d thought he’d be. 

Time moves on, it waits for no one. 

You and Leon eat whatever you have, burn the wood you’re able to, try to sleep as much as you can. He doesn’t bring up the dog, or the fact that your animals are either dying or killing each other. You can’t bring yourself to go outside and see what’s become of your poor animals, Leon understands, it’s another thing he tries to take care of and hide just to keep you happy. 

–

The snow is cold under your feet, as is the air around you that continues to bite at your skin. No jacket, no shoes, what are you thinking? You’re gonna get sick, Leon will just have to keep taking care of you. But you couldn’t stay inside anymore, you heard the keening cries of your poor sheep early in the morning, you ran outside before Leon could stop you. 

The scene in front of you is almost the same as that of your dog’s death : blood in the snow, torn open chests and stomachs, warm, heavy organs that melt the snow around them and let steam rise up into the air. You say nothing, you do nothing besides stare down at the pen that once held your sheep in them, their wool is turning the same color as the snow. There’s footprints in the snow, not yours, not Leon’s, some are bloody, some aren’t. 

The pigs are dead, the goats are dead, the chickens and horses are on death's doorstep, and now your sheep have gone too. You’ve been feeding the animals, was it just a change in the weather that made them all sick? To be fair, the pigs fed themselves, you didn’t know they ate their own. The goats got violent, the sheep were as weak as ever, but you’ve never heard of an animal's organs falling out on their own. It’s not a rarity for farm animals to be wiped out in one winter, but they’ve survived winters like these before, what’s so different about this one? 

You finally decide that it’s not an animal who’s done this, that the things you’ve seen and heard in the night weren’t animals, either. 

Whenever you do get to sleep now, there’s these women in your dreams, you don’t know them, but they seem to know you. And in these dreams, you’re eating with them, their faces blur together and you feel warm, full. They laugh and talk, serve you plate after plate of something raw. There’s blood in their mouths as well as yours, it’s like you’re under some kind of spell. Leon isn’t there, and as much as these dreams leave you feeling a bit more content than the day before, there’s something about them that terrifies you. You don’t tell Leon this, though. 

Maybe in your dreams you’re eating your animals, you still don’t know who the women are supposed to be. But the sounds of their laughter have poured out of your dreams and into the sounds you hear outside your house at night. 

Leon follows you outside after a couple of minutes, holding a jacket and blanket meant for you while he doesn’t have one for himself. 

You let him come up behind you and put the jacket over your shoulders, then the blanket on top of it. “You’ll catch a cold,” He mumbles. 

“I’m tired of this.” You breathe. Leon doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, but you hear him gulp, then feel him run his hand up and down your back.

“Tired of what?”

“Of this-” You look at him and gesture to the pen of dead sheep in front of you, Leon doesn’t look. “I- Is it wolves, or something? Leon, this has never been a problem, I don’t understand what’s changed but we can’t just… We can’t just act like this isn’t a problem.”

“I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Well, we won’t be able to stay here next year. You know, I’ll go anywhere with you, right?”

“Of course, but we can’t just leave our home.”

“Well we can’t stay here if there’s something in the woods that’s treating our land like its feeding ground!” You scoff, you move from your spot in the snow and step closer to Leon, rubbing your hands over your face. “I- I’ve told you about how scared I am, you keep doing nothing.”

Leon wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him, “You don’t know how sorry I am.” You stay quiet, letting the warmth of his body seep into yours as you try to ignore the chill creeping up your legs and the smell of blood in your nose. “I wish things were different,”

“Maybe we should wish harder,” The chuckle he lets out is humorless. “We can’t stay here anymore, you know that.”

“... I do.”

“Let’s head back into town as soon as there’s a break in the weather.” Leon goes quiet again, he’s thinking, you can practically see the cogs turning in his brain.

“I like that plan.” He hums after a few seconds, giving you a squeeze before letting his grip on you loosen. His hands slide down to yours, he still hasn’t looked at the dead sheep when he starts to pull you back to the house. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

“So make me feel better.” 

– 

The night is colder than the day, it’s always been this way. 

Leon’s asleep in your bed, but you’re wide awake. You had another one of those dreams about the women for the brief amount of time that you got to sleep. It felt different this time, probably because you had been in your barn, eating away at a rotted deer carcass, it tasted sweet on your tongue. You could hear Leon talking to you in your dream, but when you looked around you he was never there and you were left with those odd women again. 

Your fingers trace over his face gently, careful not to wake him. You’ve always thought he looked peaceful in his sleep, you hope his dreams are better than yours. It’s too quiet tonight, there’s no tapping on the window, no shouts from outside, nothing. Something tells you that you should go check, though. 

You press a soft kiss to Leon’s cheek and stand from your bed, managing to pull on a coat and shoes this time around before you step out into the cold night. 

You’re met with silence, the moon shines brightly in the sky, lighting up the snowy land and the woods that surrounds it. You lean back against the wooden door, wrapping your arms around yourself as you wait for that something that drew you out here. 

You wait for a few moments, then for a few more seconds before you decide that this is futile. You turn around and reach for the door handle, but a sharp whistle to your right stops you, it’s already too late to go back inside. 

“You look so tired.” Says the voice, you turn to look and see who it is, only to find a stranger. She can’t be any older than you are, she watches you, waiting for you to answer as a smile creeps onto her face and she takes a step closer. “What’s got you so worried?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m worried about you,” She speaks quickly, alive and energetic. “You can trust me, what’s got you up so late?” You shudder, you’ve seen her face before, but you can’t remember where. In your dreams, maybe? The way she stares into your soul makes you feel like she already knows the answer to her question, she just wants to hear you admit it. 

“... My husband. And the animals.” You mumble, her smile grows. 

“Really?” It’s almost a giggle when she asks, she sways slightly, stepping closer to you once again. “You’re a good wife, then.” You don’t say anything, only watch her. “I bet there’s something I could do to take away that worry.” Again, you give her no answer. “Can we sit and talk?”

It’s stupid, you know it is. The closer she gets, the more clearly you can see the crusted blood on her lips. You grip the door handle, but you can’t move under her gaze. 

“I just want to help.”

“Th-Thank you, but I- Uhm, I’m f-fine.” You stammer out, “I just- I’d like to go back to sleep now.”

“Don’t you want to know how I can help?”

“You’re too kind,” You chuckle shakily. “I’m fine, really.” 

“Please.” Her voice is firm, she’s not asking you this time. “That husband of yours shot me, you know. Helping you would make me feel better.” 

“You-” She reaches out and grabs your wrist, her icy skin makes her grip on you even more uncomfortable. 

“Say yes to me.” You both stop, her eyes bore into yours. “You’ll freeze or you’ll starve, do you want to see your husband freeze?”

“It’s just one winter.” She smiles again, like she knows something you don’t. 

“Do you want to see your husband freeze?” She repeats. “Do you want to watch him starve?”

“Of course not!”

“I can help you, you won’t have to worry about him anymore if you just say yes.” 

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t have to know me,” She snaps, “You just have to trust me. Your life can be easy again. You love your husband, don’t you?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”

“Then let me help you.” 

“… How?” 

“You’ll just have to see. But you’ll be okay, I promise. We’ll feed you food sweeter than anything you’ve tasted, don’t you want that?”

“… Yes.” 

— 

Those women from your dreams surround you, their laughter is the same, but you can see their faces more clearly now. The fire is warm, even in your nakedness you don’t feel the chill of the snow and crisp air. 

You almost laugh with them, but Leon’s here with you this time, that’s what makes you stop. His body lays on top of the snow and you lean over him, holding his hand against the side of your face, his skin is cold, but you still cling to his touch. Leon’s breathing is slow, he can hardly keep his eyes open, you can’t really blame him, not when he’s got chunks bitten out of him, the other women said he had tasted good, offered up the rest of him to you. 

You were easy to convince, you wouldn’t call yourself desperate, maybe dumb, in a sense. Easily tricked. How could you know it would lead to this? 

Your eyes are watery, tears of your own drip down onto Leon’s face and mix with his. You can’t fully hate this, he’s here with you, there’s something either wrong with your mind or body telling you that this is the right thing. Before you can really stop yourself, you lap at the gash on his wrist, his blood is sweeter than anything you’ve made up in your dreams. The way he looks now isn’t far off from any of your animals' deaths, the only thing is that he’s no animal and there’s still air in his lungs. 

He winces when you suck on the wound, the sound is weak and breathy, but it still makes something in you ache. 

“Sorry,” You mumble against his wrist, coaxing more blood out with more gentler sucks and nips at the torn skin. “Sorry, I’m sorry.” Leon lifts his head only for it to fall back against the snow, you pull away from his wrist, a small string of saliva connecting your bloody mouth to the ugly gash before breaking. You push the hair from his face, still holding his wrist in your other hand.

“I-” You start, stopping when you see how glossy his eyes become. “Were you protecting me?” A weak nod comes from Leon, you smile. “You’re everything to me. I love you, you know that?” Another weak nod, you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling the way he stops breathing as you hold him. You smear blood across his lips when you pull away, his eyes have gone cold and you can’t seem to find a pulse in his throat. You let out a shaky breath as you kiss your way down from his jaw and back to his wrist, focusing solely on the feeling of his limp arm in your grasp. 

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper against him, no longer sucking and nibbling, instead sinking your teeth into him, working your way into the skin to pull it away from him and back into your mouth. You take the first bit, chomp down on the chewy bits of meat, tonight is the beginning of your new life.

[barblaz-arts]

I know that pilot was gold!!!! The only thing that kept me alove was the promise of more and Helluva Boss!!!

But yeah their interactions, Vaggie OMG i love this idiot face every time Charlie feels too much and get too excited is GOLD.

It is always refreshing to have a well established couple since the beginning that work thors issues together. I might live for a good slowburn, but the fluff woth a dash of angst around them was enough to get me feed.

And the songs... the songs!!!!!

Exactly! There were so many moments where Vaggie is stressed about something but then she sees Charlie being her theatrical adorable self and she just immediately melts.

She loves her so much 💗

And i know what you mean. I get it when people dont take much interest in an already established ship because I'm like that in a lot of cases, but something about Chaggie got me so invested even tho they're already dating for years now. People complain that they don't act like a couple, not being all over each other and shit, but their behavior with each other is my ideal portrayal for couples i write. As great as seeing physical chemistry is, i love it when a couple just shows how much they enjoy being with each other even more. And just... Like each other as a person yanno?

And oh my gosh the songs. They were so good, i applaud their song writers. And the fact that most of their voice actors were theater actors in a lot of musicals i loved really made it even better. This is a long shot, but since Nifty was the only one who didn't get to sing more than two lines in a song, i hope they get her to sing more next season. Nothing special, just a fun musical number that maybe welcomes a new sinner in the hotel. Like a Be Our Guest kind of thing. Otherwise casting Kimiko Glen for her would be suuuuch a waste.

(for those who don't know her, this is Nifty's VA)

[follows-the-bees]

Stede's journey wasn't centered on finding (romantic) love at the beginning. He set out to find himself, to find a community. (And it's beautiful that he gets that.)

But along the way he finds not only a best friend, but the love of his life: in that same person. Stede's journey is a blatant queer allegory: a man who has never fit into society, who is treated poorly for not fitting into *pick your societal norm*, who finds himself through community, fixing some of his past relations, but also discovering his sexuality: gay and demisexual.

Ed's journey is also about finding himself. About leaving a life that doesn't make him happy anymore and he too along the ways finds the love of his life.

Their journey together is about finding that person who gets them down to their neurons, first as a friends, then as a lover. Their journey is of being in love for the first time and all that that entails.

I mentioned above that Stede's sexuality can be read as demisexual; there are many beats along the way in canon that I think make this a strong read.

But I want to talk about the read of Ed as demiromantic. And this is just an interpretation, not canon fact.

We see that sex on the ship is casual. "Non-stop knocking ship." And we see that Ed is no stranger to sex. The marks on his skin during the stabbing skin alluding to past "stabbings."

But there's also an underlying touch-starved intimacy; he wants to be held by Stede so badly, that he gets him to stab him.

We see in the next season, stabbing as sexual again between Mary and Anne. But we also see that underlying loving affection between them later. The stabbing is also tied to emotion with these two couples.

We see more of the emotional intimacy between Ed and Stede, their friendship leading to a more emotional connection with the bathtub scene. Ed opens up to someone for the first time and then gets intimate physical touch, even getting more of it by placing his forehead on Stede's hand.

In the gravy basket Ed asks for the most basic of things to survive. And it's honestly sad when you remember that he is fighting to live, he wants to live, but he only gives himself the basics of it. Warmth, good food, and intercourse — with orgasms. This qualifier makes it clear that Ed has had unsatisfying sex. Him looking for emotional connections fits into the reason, especially since his entire journey is about emotional intimacy.

This episode with Anne and Mary is what really started to cement the Ed is demiromantic reading for me (again not canon, just an interpretation.) Ed and Stede are very private about their romantic/sexual lives. (Can I also take a sidenote to talk about how it's a breath of fresh air that their relationship is based on friendship!)

I know it's prevalent to say that Ed fell at the on-start but I don't think that's quite true. He was fascinated by Stede. Someone new and interesting and they connected emotionally right away, two sides of the same coin. Their friendship is what truly ties them together before their romantic relationships and certainly before sexual.

They both push back when anyone tries to bring up the sexual side of their relationship. Ed states "our private lives are our private lives" to his old friends Anne and Mary, which yes is funny, but is also very telling that Ed doesn't want to talk about those things. Stede is special, Ed is older, this thing between them is more than just idle gossip about sex lives between friends. When Spanish Jackie brings up the Swede as a "jackhammer," Ed also has an opportunity to bring up Stede if he wanted to chat, but he doesn't cause "our private lives our private lives."

This happens a third time when Izzy unceremoniously opens the curtains the morning after. Stede responds as he normally does to Izzy: offended, Ed looks annoyed but not surprised, since this has been established — Izzy getting into personally spaces — from the beginning.

After Ed and Stede are reunited, under the moonlight, the biggest time in season one we really see Ed looking at Stede with pure emotional vulnerability on his face, they kiss again. And Ed stops it, wanting to take it slow. I think this moment also adds to demiromantic Ed! He gets to hold hands, cuddle, talk about his day, both their days with each other. Cuddles and talks, romance and intimacy over sexual at this stage in their relationship.

Overall, Ed and Stede's relationship is built on their friendship. They like each other. They love each other. And I think both can be read as ace: Stede as demisexual and Ed as demiromantic.

Ed wanting emotional connection, romance his entire life, but just like the fine things, not thinking it's for him, that he gets that, only to find out he does! He gets to have romance! He gets to hold hands just to hold hands. He gets to take it slow without judgement! He gets to have sex with romance! And that man is going to be romanced! Good for him!

Their connection and journeys about being emotionally vulnerable with each other, being able to grow close with one another is beautiful.

If you disagree with this reading, cool. The amazing thing about this show is that sexuality is left open. Is Ed gay or bi? You decide! Is Frenchie ace? That's my reading! It's all up to interpretation.

[baylz]

Poison Oak .ᐟ

ft. kozume kenma

synopsis : you and kenma go to a halloween party but things take an unexpected turn.

song : Cupid De Locke by The Smashing Pumpkins

warnings: established relationship, idiots in love

a/n : a little short but i thought it was cutesy to write for flufftober (and the kenma lovers are starving)

credits to: @fisshbones for the cutesy divider

The “no biggie” in question was a rash and scrapped knee that you had tried to brush off once Kenma had finally found you. You were practically covered in dirt. “I’m okay.” You insisted, cursing yourself for the wince you let out attempting to stand.

You were currently hoisted on his back, mumbling silent apologies for leaving him stranded. “I was helping Kuroo with one of the inflatables and I tripped on one of the wires and fell into the bushes.” He already said a million times on the way home that it was okay, but you, stubborn as you were, insisted that it wasn’t.

“I swear, when we get home we can watch all of your favorite movies first. Which do you wanna start with?”

“Coraline.” He answered and you shifted yourself against him, your face leveled at the side of his head. “That’s not your favorite movie.” You accused, eyeing him suspiciously. 

He snorted, “Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not. Monster House has been a Kenma household favorite since birth.”

“I like you a lot, but you’re so dramatic.” You squawked at that, hitting him on the head for turning such a compliment into an insult. But you knew there was no malice behind those words.

Perching your head on his shoulder, you sighed and nuzzled against him. Despite his cool attitude, his body always radiated some kind of warmth even on crisp nights such as this one. The streets were adorned with all kinds of halloween decorations as the two of you passed by. It was your favorite season and you had always hoped you could couple-y stuff with someone such as matching costumes, movie marathons, and going to crappy haunted houses.

Kenma has been that person even before you started dating. He would complain, but he never denied you of anything. Like the time you insisted that you should make a pumpkin pie as a small hangout idea and he swore up and down that he hated pumpkin pie and wouldn’t eat it. Until you brought a spoonful of the vibrant orange dessert to his lips and he threw you a look before taking a bite. That the same night you confessed your feelings for him, kissing his sweet lips and tasting the tangy flavor of cinnamon with brown sugar.

“How’s your hand? Itchy?” The question knocked you out of your thoughts. You hummed, feeling the urge to scratch at the bandage. Kuroo had slapped some ointment on the poison to stop it from getting worse. “It’ll last you half the walk home.” He informed you while binding up the blistered skin.

“Mm, very itchy.”

He nodded, his feet thumping against the pavement as he picked up the pace. “We can put aquaphor on it and clean up your leg once we arrive.” You loved how he had his own way of caring for you. He was never verbal about his affections, always silently looking after you. Thinking of that, you felt a different kind of itch, and looking at the delicate features of his side profile made you act impulsively.

Kenma felt the gentle pressure of your lips against his cheek at that moment. His cheeks flushed an artless pink and he was grateful that you couldn’t see his face right now. “What was that for?”

“Just a thanks for putting up with me.”

"Weirdo."

You laughed, the sound ringing pleasantly in his ear. "I'll kiss you properly when we get home."

© BAYLZ 2024 | PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST MY WORKS ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS TO CLAIM AS YOURS

[buckets-and-trees]

Hi Aspen, Cedar trees has been seeping into my mind lately (not that I’m complaining, but I’m blaming ovulation). Can I ask what a day in the life looks like for our dear couple? Do they ever run into each other doing their own independent tasks in town? Does reader ever watch Steve with his guards and become enamored with seeing him train/in charge?

Nonnie, I adore this ask!

A day in the life is a pretty odd juxtaposition between routine and a "plot of the week" kind of life. Running into him, depends on the day - but of course you love him more and more. As king, for Steve there are far more out of the ordinary things that crop into his days, whereas for you there are routines, ceremonial bits, and things that only change more based on the season, especially the first year of your marriage.

However, once the two of you came to the initial understanding that your marriage was more than just a political alliance between kingdoms with Steve acquiring someone to be his queen, Steve made some changes pretty swiftly to daily protocols so the two of you could grow together as a couple.

Title: A Shift in the Morning Routine Characters/Pairings: King!Steve x Queen!Reader Word Count: 1100

Content/Warnings: established relationship, reference to morning sex

Additional Notes: I've got so many head cannons that I want to build into more moments with the Cedar Trees AU, (including 2-3 more asks from @stargazingfangirl18 and @gifsbysimplysonia) but here is at least one.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Not everything changes overnight, you are still new to the kingdom, your role as queen, and growing in familiarity with the people, the land, and your responsibilities, but the new intimacy of a deeper connection and commitment that you and Steve pledged to each other unlocks a wholly different sense of security that trickles steadily into your bloodstream in a way that make the days warmer, brighter, and bearing the duties you have becomes more natural. They were not impossible before, nor difficult, you had been raised and prepared since birth to be ready to become someone’s queen, but the sense of belonging that breathed now between you and your husband – that you were husband and wife – shifted things fundamentally.   

But there are things that do change specifically in your patterns and behaviors. The first thing to change is having breakfast brought in for you both any night the king sleeps in your chambers, and because there is so much protocol and support from palace staff around you, the palace notices quickly that it seems that the king is spending every night with you. There are a few - a very few - who raise an eyebrow at this behavior. Those few seem to think that surely if the king has taken such a liking to his new queen, that's all well and good, but he is the king, why not invite you to his quarters? But no one dares question the king, and much of the palace see his growing devotion to you as only another sign of his very good and kind heart, his capacity to care only showing consistently now in another form.

The servants do know not to bring breakfast until the two of you ring for it though.

Except for unexpected emergencies, the two of you are not to be disturbed until the king has had time with his queen and the two of you are in a state of decency, donning your bedclothes or robes as appropriate.

After a few weeks of this, there's a morning where the king's private secretary is getting antsy while he waits to give the king his first briefing of the day, and Lord Barnes diplomatically intervenes.

"My King," Bucky bows his head in deference that appropriately reflects his respect for Steve's position as king and their tie as friends since schoolchildren before Steve inherited any title. "Coulson doesn't want to disturb you, but he is growing more concerned we will fall behind on your majesty's royal itinerary if he cannot brief you soon ahead of this morning's audiences with the delegations from Vanaheim and Malibu."

The soft sigh Steve lets out is short and you're certain only you can hear, though you know Bucky has seen the affect his arrival and announcement have had as his face reflects warmth, a bit of mirth, but also the duty and responsibility to keep his friend in line with his responsibilities as right hand.

The two of you had lingered much longer in bed that morning, for the pleasure of both of you (twice for you, the second time with Steve). You reach for his hand where it was resting on the corner of the table, slipping your fingers into his palm and brushing your thumb over his knuckles. “I would be a poor queen if I kept you here any longer then.”

Now Steve actually huffs. “You are not keeping me, I choose to breakfast with my wife, and I am not yet finished taking my nourishment for the day.”

You tilt your head and grin. “A kingdom cannot wait on their king all morning.”

“If I may,” Bucky interjects, and you both turn your attention to him, “Coulson could brief you as easily here as anywhere else.”

Steve nods and a wide smile spreads over his handsome face. “Bring him in, Buck.”

Your heart warms and flutters, the two of you holding each other’s gaze for another moment, and he reaches for more bread.  

When Lord Barnes returns with Coulson behind him, Coulson stands with only a little apprehension at the end of the table, but Bucky takes a seat across from you, to the right of the king, and begins to fill a plate of his own with breakfast.

“Your majesties,” Coulson addresses with a bow.

“Coulson,” Steve nods.

“Shall I start with the reports from the borders of the kingdom?”

“Are updates in regard to the delegations not more important than the border reports?” Steve questions, his brow furrowing.

It was fleeting, but you see the slightest of a glance to you and your presence, and your stomach hardens with guilt.

Coulson takes a breath to respond, but Steve holds up a hand. “I see. The queen’s insight may be valuable as we hear what you have to say as she is no stranger to royal politics.”

That hardening melts away at his words.

“Indeed, she may often prove to be invaluable in our efforts here in the coming days but as we move forward, as well, given that there are parts a queen may play that are wholly unavailable to a king.”

Bucky does not look up, but you see a relaxed grin on his face, and as you turn to gage Coulson’s reaction, you see his own previous apprehension had dissolved. “I would agree, your majesty.”

“Moving forward, if the queen should not mind, I would like you to deliver the morning briefing to us both while we breakfast. Come in straight away with the day’s food, Coulson.”

Steve squeezes your hand. “Do you object?”

A show of trust, of valuing your opinion, of seeing you as an asset as his queen – it is the furthest thing from your mind to object. “I serve this kingdom without reservation, my king.”

“One could not ask for a more dutiful or beautiful queen at my side.”

Those blue eyes bore into yours.

You know he means those words.

The full silence in the room only hits you when Lord Barnes clears his throat.

“Start with Vanaheim, Coulson, I meet with them first, correct?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Over the weeks that turned into months and years, you grew to like Coulson very much, and after that first day when Steve stated his trust in you, Coulson never showed any hesitancy in you ever again, and, in fact, became one of your most staunch champions in the kingdom.

READ THE NEXT PART: WINTER SOLSTICE read more of the Cedar Trees AU

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I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[221beloved]

Acorn, Chestnut, Pine Cone

(Link to ao3)

“John?”

John turned his eyes away from the trees, which were slowly changing their colour at this time of year, to look at Sherlock, walking next to him. “Yes, love?”

“They are eating gingerbread.”

“What?” John didn’t see anyone eating gingerbread, nor did he understand what Sherlock wanted to tell him with that observation.

“There!” Sherlock nodded to their left, and indeed, there was a couple sitting on a bench, happily munching, an open packet of gingerbread standing next to them.

John frowned. “Okay. And… what now?”

Sherlock turned to stare at him, his eyes wide, his expression almost shocked.

“John!” he called out in disbelief. “They, are eating, gingerbread!”

“Yes…?” John really didn’t get the point. “We’ve established that. What now?”

“It’s warm enough for them to sit on a bench in the park, yet they are eating gingerbread, John! Christmas is two months away!”

John blinked at the man, a little surprised at Sherlock’s outburst, then broke into giggles and nudged Sherlock’s hip.

“Wow, I knew that you pretend you don’t like Christmas, but that you’re so sensitive to people eating food that’s associated with the season, wow…”

Sherlock huffed next to him. “I do not pretend not to like it. I don’t have to.”

John tilted his head. “You seem contend enough when we’re decorating and having a nice time.”

“Well, you do like Christmas, for some reason that I cannot fathom, and since I like you there is some kind of… acceptance towards it.”

John grinned. “Hm, yes. Acceptance.”

“But only when it’s spend with you,” Sherlock added. “Only you. Well okay, Mrs. Hudson can come up as well if she needs to, but more I just can’t withstand!”

“Hm, I think your mother usually starts calling you in early October to ask you to attend Christmas dinner, right? Shouldn’t be long until her first call.”

“Don’t remind me,” Sherlock grumbled in remembrance of the yearly tradition of her asking and him refusing until the last possible moment.

“You know, it would be much easier if you’d just tell her, yes mummy, I will attend Christmas dinner, thank you for the invitation, yes I will bring John, yes, no gifts this year.”

“It would be much easier if she wouldn’t call me two times a week for almost two months to pester me about the same thing.”

“But would you come then?”

Sherlock decidedly didn’t answer that question, instead he kicked a chestnut that had the audacity to lay on the way.

“Oi!” John blurted. “Don’t you dare treat chestnuts like that.”

Sherlock looked up at him in confusion. “What?”

“We used to build little figurines out of them.”

Sherlock only blinked at him. “What?” he repeated dumbly.

“Didn’t you? In primary school? They’d give you chestnuts, sometimes acorns, some toothpicks, and then you could build little chestnut men. I’ll show you a picture when we’re home.”

“That’s…” Sherlock lifted his brows almost appreciatively and nodded. “That’s surprisingly ridiculous. Bordering on hideous, even for primary school.”

John chuckled. “No! It was a very serious matter for us. Once one of us had found the first chestnut of the year we’d look forward to the day our teacher would come to class with a bag of them.”

Sherlock eyed him with a strange look, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that I’m sharing a flat with you, let alone my bed.”

John’s grin turned to a soft smile. “It’s because you love me, you nutter.”

“Yes. Yes I do. And I’ll never stop. Well, as long as you don’t start building those chestnut things again.”

They stared at each other for a moment, then both doubled over with laughter.

The rest of the way home was without any more disturbances, chestnuts and Christmas forgotten for the moment.

--

Please tell me if you want to be added or removed from the list

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[old-people-like-avatar]

Netflix Avatar the Last Airbender S1 - Overall Thoughts [SPOILERS]

I am a longtime fan of Avatar the Last Airbender. I did not watch it in its original 2005 run, but I discovered it in around 2010 after my good friend R.S. recommended it to me. It's been my #1 favorite TV show ever since and I have rewatched it more times than I can count. I was cautiously optimistic about NATLA.

Now, having watched the whole first season of NATLA, and looking at the season as a whole, I think the best word to describe it is uneven. I can't say that I loved it, and I can't say that I hated it. But there were things I really liked about it and things that really did not work for me. Overall, I enjoyed watching it -- if only to dissect what did and did not work about the adaptation -- and would want to watch more.

WHAT WORKED

Everything to do with Zuko and Iroh. I found myself going back through just to rewatch all of the Zuko and Iroh-related scenes. I thought Dallas Liu really nailed Zuko -- from tantrums about his journal being stolen to incredible action sequences to the boyish vulnerability of worrying about the laces on his gauntlets. He took an iconic character and made him his own. NATLA added some incredible scenes and lines to my favorite duo: Lu Ten's funeral (coupled with orchestral version of "Leaves from the Vine"); Zuko's first war council; Iroh choosing to go with Zuko on the boat; the 41st Division; Iroh putting a blanket on Zuko. And I liked that NATLA emphasized that Iroh needed Zuko in the wake of Lu Ten's death as much as Zuko needed Iroh after his mother left.

Daniel Dae Kim's interpretation of Ozai. Ozai in ATLA is kind of one-dimensional. Daniel Dae Kim's Ozai adds a deeper layer to him in that he genuinely seems to think he's doing legitimate parenting -- even going so far as to visit Zuko after burning his face and remarking, glibly, that he'll recover ("but he'll never heal," says Iroh). It adds an even more monstrous angle to his cruelty because Kim's Ozai seems to think he's doing it for his children's own good. This post perfectly encapsulates my feelings about why I thought the agni kai between Ozai and Zuko was an excellent addition to NATLA.

Zuko/Aang. These two bonding over goat hair brushes was the scene I never knew I needed. The way Aang managed to wrest a little smile out of Zuko in that scene before Zuko blew up at him for criticizing the Fire Lord? And the way that tied into the "Compassion is a sign of weakness" scene from the agni kai? Great character work.

WHAT DID NOT WORK

Dialogue. I already observed at length my dissatisfaction with the clunky, exposition-dumping dialogue in my episode-by-episode writeups. It certainly wasn't as bad as the Movie-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named, but . . . there was no art or subtlety to it, and no trust in the audience. A disappointment.

The GAang did not feel like family. The lack of breathing room in the 8-episode season meant that all of the "filler" episodes that fleshed out the relationships between Aang, Katara, and Sokka were sacrificed. I am not saying NATLA needed to recapture each of the filler episodes. But they needed to build the foundational bonds between the main trio with showing not telling and they really didn't. They separated them for big chunks of 2 episodes. And, really, they just felt like traveling companions. That took all of the emotional heft out of, well, everything related to Aang, Katara, and Sokka. I mean, frankly, the kid actors did a better job establishing the "family" dynamic just by being themselves in their press interviews than the show did with the characters.

Aang did not run away from responsibility. I am not one of those people that's just mad that the show wasn't exactly like the cartoon. No. What I mean is, even putting aside the cartoon, even if you just look at NATLA itself: their own themes were undercut by never showing Aang actually running away from responsibility. Each avatar seemed to be berating Aang for doing something he was never actually shown to be doing.

Katara. I really don't think this one is on the actress. Katara felt like a fundamentally different character from ATLA's Katara. It's not to say an adaption is not allowed to have their own interpretation of a character, but... I just did not understand NATLA Katara. There was no passion, no rage, no overbearing nurturing. She was... I don't know what she was. Traumatized, yes, but nothing grew out of that trauma? Meek, until the plot demanded that she suddenly become a waterbending master without any guidance other than a waterbending scroll? The "younger sister"? More than any of the main characters, I'm not sure what NATLA was trying to say about Katara at all. And, as a result, I'm afraid the word to describe it might be uninteresting. And given that she is the heart and soul of Team Avatar, this one was really tough.

Despite the fact that a lot of NATLA did not work for me, I still enjoyed it because the things that did work for me, well, really worked. So. I'm here for all of the Zuko/Iroh scenes!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Your Savior

Pairing: Cop!Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: angst, being taken hostage at gunpoint, fearful of your life

Request by @jessicalynnann: What about cop/detective dean and him and the reader are in an established relationship and she owns a cute little bakery… well what if something happens like she gets attacked but doesn’t tell him and he finds out and is upset but comforts her… 

Summary: You have a little bakery that is your pride and joy and a boyfriend on the police force who you're so proud of. He doesn't have a lot of dangerous cases until one day, three gunmen decide to take a bank hostage. A bank that is a couple of blocks from your bakery.

Square Filled: criminal au (2022) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You have to bake two dozen cupcakes, a two-tier cake, and a half dozen cookies before the end of the day and you’re working as hard as you can to get that done. You have flour on your apron and face, quiet music is playing from your speaker, and you have your hands elbow-deep in a bowl of batter.

The bell on the front door rings signalling someone walked into your bakery store, and you try to peek out of the room to see who it is.

“I’ll be right with you!” you call out. “Give me one minute!” The person doesn’t wait for you to come out to them so they walk into the kitchen. You’re about to yell at them when you see who it is. “Dean!”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he grins.

Dean is a respected cop that everyone knows. He has been on the force since eighteen, and he’s only gone up from there. He walks behind the counter and kisses you even though some of the flour gets on his face.

“What are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t stop by my girlfriend’s bakery?” You raise an eyebrow at him and he laughs. “No, I just wanted to say hi on my break.”

“Hi,” you smile. “Today has been hectic and I haven’t been open for nearly an hour. I just got this big order in for a birthday party this weekend. I’m trying to get as much as I can done so I don’t have to do it later.”

“Where’s Maria?”

“Coming in late. She has a sick kid at home, and her husband won’t be able to pick him up until after ten.”

“I was going to take you out for lunch but I can come here.”

“No, Maria can hold down the fort for an hour. I’d love to go out to lunch with you.”

“Okay.” He grabs one of the fresh muffins you made and takes out a ten dollar bill which he sets on the counter. “I’ll be back at twelve.”

“Hey, I don’t need your money.”

“It’s stealing. I’m a cop. I uphold the law,” he grins. He leans down and kisses you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too!”

Right before Maria shows up, your bakery filled with customers who are hungry for your sweets. With her at the register, you can focus on the big order which you’re almost done making the batter for. This whole bakery idea is all because of Dean. When you two were in high school, he encouraged you to continue bake. The school held a bunch of bake-offs which you participated in, and everyone fell in love with your food.

Starting junior year of high school, you started selling your baked goods for cheap until you got orders from practically everyone. His family owned a section of a building in the mall for their seasonal work, so they let you use it when they weren't. When Dean became a cop, you made cookies and cupcakes for all the officers in the office.

Being a cop is something you wished Dean didn’t pursue because it’s a very dangerous job, and you’re always worried that he’s not going to come home. He’s mostly a beat cop who does a lot of desk work and will occasionally do the big things like drug busts and hostage situations but those are far in between.

You don’t like it but you know he’s the best person for the job. He’s determined, he loves helping people who can’t help themselves, and he has a passion for the job. Just like you.

Noon comes faster than you think it does, and you start to clean your work space so that when  you return from lunch, you can start with a clean area. Dean walks in through the front door just as you’re finishing up.

“Y/N, Dean is here,” Maria calls from the front.

“Coming!” You put the dirty rags in the small hamper and take off your dirty apron. There is some flour on your clothes but not enough to cause you to not go out in public. That’s the reality of being a baker. You have flour on everything you wear. “Where are we going?”

“Razzio’s.”

“Italian food. Yum,” you giggle. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Have fun!” Maria smiles.

Razzio’s is located in the same block as your bakery so you two walk over there. The owner knows Dean from when he stopped a robbery fromt aking place, so now he gets free meals and discounts when he comes in. Dean still pays full price for the food even though Razzio doesn’t always take it.

“Dean! Welcome in!” Razzio greets.

“Hey, Raz. Got a table for me?”

“Of course. Window okay?”

“Perfect.”

Dean likes to try everything on the menu so he has Razzio cook him up something new every week without ordering, and every week, you end up loving what he brings to the table. It’s not unusual for Razzio not to lay menus down for you.

“So, I was thinking this weekend, we can take some time off,” Dean says.

“Like a getaway?”

“Yeah. My family has a cabin up north that I’d love to take you to.”

“It will be nice to relax instead of worrying about what orders I need to prepare for next week.”

“See? Win-win.”

“You’re a dork,” you giggle and kiss him.

Razzio is perfect like always, and you walked away with a free meal. What Razzio doesn’t take, Dean leaves as a tip for him. You walk back to your bakery hand-in-hand with a full stomach and a happy heart. You reach his police car when the radio he has strapped to his shoulder crackles to life.

“Unit 27, I got a 10-31 in progress. All three subjects appear to be armed. Please respond.”

10-31. You’ve been with Dean long enough to know that it’s a robbery. Subjects being armed means they have guns.

Dean grabs the small radio and presses the button to respond back.

“Unit 27 responding.” He turns to you. “I gotta go.”

“Please be careful.”

“Always,” he winks.

He kisses you goodbye and hops into his police cruiser. You watch him peel out of the parking lot before going back inside. It seems like not a lot of people have come in while you were gone so nothing bad happened. You resume your baking in the kitchen and slide in two batches of cupcakes into the oven when the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

Something isn’t right.

You walk carefully to the closed kitchen door and peer out of the small window to see three men with big guns inside the store. Maria and the other customers huddle together in fear. Are these the three subjects the same ones that the dispatcher was warning Dean about? How did they escape? Why did they come here? Are they looking to steal some food?

You take your phone out and dial Dean’s personal cell and place it to your ear. Pick up, Dean, pick up. Come on, pick up. You get his voicemail because he’s probably busy with the situation he got called away on.

“Dean, I need you here. There are three men with big guns in the bakery. Please hurry. They might be--”

“Hey!”

You look up and lock eyes with one of the suspects. You quickly hang up and duck down but he has already seen you. The man storms into the kitchen and grabs your arm tightly. You’re thrown off balance that your phone is dropped when he drags you out where everyone else is. You don’t struggle to get away in fear of being shot and let them tie you up.

“Are you the owner?” the leader asks. You nod because you have tape over your mouth. “Where’s the money?” You shake your head and he cocks his weapon. “Where’s the fucking money?!”

You mumble something underneath the tape, and one of the them rips it off you.

“Fuck,” you hiss at the pain. “I don’t have a lot of money. You’re wasting your time here.”

“No, you see, I know you have money. I see you leave this store every day with a bag full of it. Where is it?”

“Not here.”

Like hell you’re going to tell them there is a big safe hidden behind a picture frame in the abc with a bunch of cash stored there. You have most of the cash in the bank but you keep a chunk of it here for emergencies only. You’re not going to give them your hard earned money.

“Okay.” The leader points his gun at you and Maria cries where she sits. “You have until the count of three to tell me where the money is or I blow your fucking head off. Deal?”

The fear has sunk in and you start crying not only for you but for everyone else here. MAria is such a good mother and wife, she doesn’t deserve to be killed. Every customer in here has a life, someone they go home to. You cna’t do that to them. You have no idea if Dean got your message so you can’t rely on him to be here and save you.

“One.”

You look up to answer when you spot someone moving behind him. You look and see Dean’s beautiful green eyes looking into yours. He has four other cops with him that snuck in through the back.

“Two.”

He puts a finger to his mouth to tell you to keep quiet, and you look back at the man who is threatening you with a gun.

“Thr--”

“Wait! I’ll tell you!” you gasp.

“I’m waiting.”

“Okay. If I tell you, you let them go. They have nothing to do with this,” you gesture to the other hostages.

“We’ll see. Where’s the fucking money?”

You look behind the three gunmen and notice Dean and the other cops come out quietly with their guns out.

“Right behind you.”

The leader turns right into the barrel of Dean’s gun. He goes to raise his own to fight but notices the other four cops with guns on them. They are outnumbered and they don’t want to die.

“Man, you three were hard to catch. Why’d you come here?” Dean chuckles. “Lower your weapons. All of you. Turn around with hands behind your backs.”

The three men do as they’re told, and three officers put them in handcuffs. Another ones goes over to the hostages and starts to get the out of their ties while Dean rushes over to you.

“Oh, my God, Dean,” you cry.

“I’m right here, baby. You’re okay. You’re safe now.” Once free, you get up and run into his arms. You break down crying and he smoothes down your hair in comfort. “I’m right here. You’re okay now.”

One of the cops calls for backup so that the gunmen are taken away in three separate cars. Paramedics come to check everyone out, and the money that the gunmen took is being processed to return back to its owners.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Dean asks.

“Yeah. They didn’t hurt us. Well, one of them grabbed my arm hard but I don’t think it’s enough to form a bruise. I didn’t think you got my message. I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I will always come. I will always be here to protect you,” he promises.

x

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[cbrownjc]

Hey :) just saw your post with your speculation about how much Eric/Daniel will be in S3. And while this isn't a definitive answer or anything, Rolin did address the question of whether or not Daniel would still play a part in the story post-s2 in this interview for the A.V. Club: https://www.avclub.com/rolin-jones-interview-with-the-vampire-season-2-finale-1851566667

I kinda feel like this means we'll see him more than just in a couple of scenes here and there, even in S3 (though he didn't specifically say "in season 3". But I feel like "still" implies this?)

Only it's difficult to judge because any present-day storyline they do with him is a big question mark since they seem to have departed from books (where he only gets turned shortly before the concert and does not part from Armand). What Armand is up to in the present-day is also a question mark imo. At least until the story converges at the concert.

I mean, I'll be real I'm also just trying to convince myself he'll be in it more because I'll miss him otherwise 🥲

Hi!

So, first I want to say that I think the two major pieces of casting that still need to be done are obviously Gabrielle and Marius. And I've long speculated that Marius is already playing a huge part in Daniel's story because I really do believe that Marius was the one to erase Daniel's memories of his past relationship with Armand.

Yes, Marius plays an important role in Lestat's life, but he plays an even bigger one in Armand and Daniel's as well, especially going by the books. In the books, Daniel lived with Marius for almost 30 years -- first healing from his mental issues, and then as companions -- before getting back together with Armand during the Prince Lestat era. All that, plus given what Rolin Jones already said about Raglan James, I don't think Justin Kirk is secretly playing Marius. So Marius still needs to be cast, and I very much expect him to be deeply involved in Armand and Daniel's storyline, going forward.

I just don't see that happening much in Season 3, however.

Because Season 3 is Lestat's story and focus, primarily. Just like Season 1 and Season 2 were mainly focused on Louis.

There is really only one episode in those two seasons where you can say Daniel was focused on -- outside of just interviewing Louis -- and that was episode 2x05. And even then, Louis factored heavily in that episode as well.

Armand and Marius play major roles in Lestat's story. Daniel doesn't. So if Daniel has any type of major storyline in Season 3, it will have to be with those two characters, IMO; as well as the Talamasca, since they were the ones to publish Daniel's book in the first place, and Rolin already said they and Raglan James will play an even bigger role in the show than they did in the books.

But without an episode count yet, I just can't see it being a huge focus. Mostly because characters like Marius still need to be fully set up and established. Also, I already think Armand is being set up to be a false Big Bad in Season 3 (since he's pretty much a villain in The Vampire Lestat), so I think whatever of Armand's POV that we get in Season 3, in the present day, will be very limited too, IMO, if we get it like we did in episode 2x03.

And yet, IMO, the only way we are looking at getting another episode like 2x05 in Season 3 is if it's told from Armand's POV. Because, again, Armand actually ties into Lestat's story, both in the past and in the present. And I think for sure that whatever Armand is up to in the present will have something to do with Daniel, as well as whatever else might be going on in the setup for Akasha rising.

Heck, if my theory is right that Marius was the one to wipe Daniel's memories of his and Armand's past relationship, Armand and Marius might have a present-day scene together, likely discussing Daniel (along with what Lestat is doing).

And yes, while Eric might still be in the top five for the call sheet going forward, that really doesn't say much IMO without knowing the Season 3 episode count. I mean, I'm sure Sam Reid was top 5 on the call sheet in Season 2, but if you look at his screen time in Episodes 2x01 and 2x02, it really wasn't much. And we didn't see him at all in episode 2x05, only heard his voice. And he didn't appear in episode 2x06 until the end.

I thought they found a way to work Lestat into the story of Season 2 very well, expanding on things from the book. But he still wasn't in the first few episodes very much.

And Daniel is even more different because he's not mentioned or referenced in The Vampire Lestat book at all.

So wrt Daniel in the present day, I'm tempering my expectations. Because yes, whatever is going on with Eric's Daniel in the present day is completely off-book. But, with every other facet of the story, the show has very much been on-book, in a rather strict way. Lestat's story is the main story of The Vampire Lestat and therefore will be for Season 3 IMO. And I think, whatever happens with Daniel in the present day is going to have to tie into that story. And that can't really happen via Daniel directly.

Louis' story is already being set up to tie into Lestat's present-day storyline directly, with his challenging all the vampires in the world to come for him if they dare. One of the reasons Lestat even became a rock star in the first place was to try and protect Louis by drawing attention to himself in an even bigger way than Louis' memoir drew attention to Louis.

But there are only two ways I see Daniel's story drawing directly to Lestat, and those are not in a way that directly has to do with Daniel. Because Lestat doesn't even know Daniel, has never met him before or interacted with him. (No I don't think they changed that from the book.)

So it's only through Armand, possibly Marius, and the Talamasca that Daniel ties into the larger story of what's going to be going on with Lestat in the present day. (Maybe a bit of Louis too, but the vampires we heard talking at the end didn't seem to be threatening Daniel, only Louis. Curious.) And, again, without an episode count yet, I just don't know how much time that focus can really get, especially when you have to set up Marius as a character; as well as probably having to set up the Talamasca even more as well; as well as maybe not revealing too soon what Armand is up to in the present day to keep his motives as mystery and have non-book readers wondering if Armand is the Big Bad villain they think he is or not.

And having to do all of this, plus laying preparation for adapting Queen of the Damned next. The book where Daniel actually does get a lot of focus.

And this also lines up with what Assad let slip about Season 4 being when we would see Armand's backstory. (Which is when QotD would start being adapted if TVL isn't split into 2 seasons like IWTV was).

And Rolin Jones flat out said people need to stop jumping ahead because Devil's Minion was "3 books ahead" of where they were now in adapting (which at the time was the 2nd half of the IWTV book), and to "slow down" about it.

So for now, I'm going to listen to RJ and just "slow down" about this.

So, in doing so, while I think we'll see Daniel in the present day in Season 3, I still don't think we'll see him much. And I think when we do, one of the episodes we'll get will probably be a stand-alone episode in the vein of episode 2x05 that focuses on what happened in the past. (Which I think will be an episode that focuses on why Daniel once woke up in a parking lot in Milwaukee not knowing how he got there). And I think for sure he'll be in the Season 3 finale. But other than that? 🤷🏾‍♀️ Again, I'm slowing down and tempering my expectations. Especially if we only get another 7-8 episode count again.

Because right now, for Season 3, Lestat's story is the main focus. Not Daniel, not Armand, and not Devil's Minion. And Daniel's character can only tie into Lestat's story via other people, which is rather limiting but can't be helped.