#they really are little humans! they can be rude and loud and messy and cruel. but not uniquely so

[clamorybus]

granted i grew up in a fairly large family (the kind where it seems like every year someone had a new baby lol) so i have a lot of experience taking care of them, but ive never understood the vitriol against kids

not wanting to be a parent, i totally understand. hating messes and screaming i get; pretty much everyone hates those. but pure hatred i do not get

[oingo233]

You Are Beautiful (1)

Summary: Sirius Black was entranced since the moment he saw you. He had to have you but you are convinced his feelings are fleeting, and will only hurt you. People inside and outside of your relationship meddle in the makings of something that could be beautiful... or disastrous. Will love and confidence win? Or will doubt and uncertainty tear you both down?

Young Sirius Black x Pus SizedFemReader

Warning: one inappropriate joke lol, fluff I suppose and nothing else really. All the real stuff comes later :0

Authors note: I mostly write my xreader fics as neutral but as this is a request, I wrote this as fem. But if anyone would like a male version or neutral version let me know and I will copy this but obviously change readers gender (and it's no burden to me I'd love to make more readers feel included and represented). Also reader is plus sized and she is confident and strong throughout the fic -because plus sized characters aren't represented like that in film/books alot (but if looking for amazing and empowering plus sized female characters Nina Zenik from Six of Crows owns my entire heart and changed how I saw myself personally and I would recommend that book for anyone really)- but as any human she has her insecurities because beauty standards are unattainable and have a way excluding so many people and making us feel less than beautiful. As a plus sized/overweight person myself, I understand how we have to fight to feel beautiful and fight this internalized bias we have when we look in the mirror. But WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. WE ARE WORTHY OF MAGAZINGE COVERS AND COMPLIMENTS AND ABOVE ALL SELF LOVE!! The self insert character in this has fought for her confidence, but it will shake and stumble throughout the series and Sirius and friends are there for her to help her realize for herself how beautiful she truly is, once again. So I hope I didn't stray too far from the request :) Enjoy....

Word Count: 1.8

Authors Note: About halfway through I decided to make it a series oops-

****Blabbering Idiot****

Sirius Black is a man of many, many words. In fact, I'm sure if he was writing this he could quickly turn it into one of the most entertaining novels ever written. He'd describe the laughter of his friends for a whole page. Tell a hilarious joke on the next. Then he'd describe the wind blowing through the open halls and courtyard and the spring sun. He could write about a great many things in great detail. (But he wouldn't because he doesn't quite enjoy writing as much as he does anything else, but that's above the point.)

As I said, Sirius Black is a man of many words. So it was such a curious thing when he first saw you. It was an astounding thing really, because for the first time he found something that rendered him completely speechless.

The sun was peeking through the open corridor and pooled onto you, caressing your skin and hair in an ethereal glow. Highlighting curves that brought both sinful and sweet thoughts running through him. It was as if the universe was telling him, look at what we've created, look at this beautiful creature. But he could hardly believe that this world could create something so lovely and kind. You threw your head back in laughter at something your friend said and suddenly the world is back to normal and all he can hear is your laughter and the sound of his friends curiosity at what could have possibly kept him from the conversation about muggle rock compared to Wizard bands. In fact, James was so passionate about it half the hall turned to listen to his rendition of The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.

But he didn't care, he took a feeble step towards you and suddenly felt so nervous his hands began to sweat. He stuttered and coughed up his words just for a simple "hello" in your direction only for the wind blowing through the halls to carry it away. And his friends laughed at him as he watched you walk too far from where he wanted you. Because, oh did he want you.

Sirus POV:

"I'm telling you, I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I know who she is," Sirius says for not the first time that evening. James started to laugh.

"Why? Because you'll be too busy thinking of her?" James said, laughing as he made a very suggestive hand motion. Peter cackled and Remus rolled his eyes, trying to find the cleaner side of his humor but instead he couldn't help but snort. Sirius pushed James's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm sure Lily would love to know how familiar with that feeling you are," Sirius says and James stopped laughing immediately, his eyes narrowed.

"Please, you wouldn't dare. And I will deny all accusations, you'll be made out to be a liar. Then the mystery girl will never love you. Is that what you want, Pads?" James joked with a single arch of his brow. Sirius just rolled his eyes. He was only half paying attention, he has been scouring the hallways since he first saw that girl. He wanted to speak to her again, or maybe just stare for a bit. If things went well, he'd be able to do both those things on a date. But he hasn't seen her since that morning and his heart felt oddly shallow. He wanted those butterflies he had when looking at her to come back and overwhelm him again.

"What'll it matter if I don't even know who she is? Or- or if I can't talk to her? No one falls in love with a blabbering idiot," Sirius says. Remus shrugs.

"Lily fell in love with James," he says, Peter laughed again.

"Yeah, regardless of what he does at night," Peter added and now both James and Sirius were rolling their eyes. James and Lily just recently stopped denying their feelings for one another and gave into the sexual tension and mutual pining. Their relationship was still fairly new but they act as if they've been together for years. Sirius supposed that in a way, they have been.

Sirius would watch them giggling, hand and hand in the hall. He'd see them cuddling in the common room, or coming back after dates with rosy cheeks and beaming smiles. Sirius would never admit it out loud, but his heart cried out when he saw them like that. He rarely ever felt lonely. He could have any girl or boy he wanted if he really tried, but for what? One fun night? Only for one more morning where he wakes up alone? He wanted more than that whenever he saw Lily and James, their happiness was palpable. Their love was suffocating.

Sirius always thought he'd find the one after Hogwarts, if at all. But when he saw her... well that changed everything. In a flash he saw himself with her, their hands intertwined and her head thrown back in laughter. Rosy cheeks and bruised lips. Warm beds and making love... being in love. He nearly felt silly after and yet, he knew that even if he did sleep tonight, it would be her he'd dream of.

"Ello' guys!" Lily said, bouncing up to James who kissed her cheek. They walked with their arms looped and Sirius glared at the easy sign of affection. He thought of his parents, how they would be stiff with one another except for in quiet moments, when he'd pass through a hall and glance into their room. He'd spot a quick kiss on the cheek, and soft squeeze of the hand. It were those odd moments for him, that struck him so strongly with a sharp bitterness. They don't deserve softness and love, he'd think, how can such cruel creatures even feel such things? But even then, he'd walk away seeing them as still awful creatures born from the depths of hell, but more human.

"That's her," Sirius whispered so quietly Remus almost didn't hear it. In fact, Sirius didn’t think Remus heard it at all, but it was rather his look of longing towards the Great Hall entrance that gave him away. Because standing right there, was you.

Your hair was a little wind blown, messy around your face, bits of iit shaped your round cheeks and soft eyes. Sirius eyed you up and down and cursed clothes and cursed shyness and cursed his own head for thinking he could even talk to you. But most of all, he cursed a group of boys who walked past you.

Sirius was a confident boy, he knew how to spot someone who held their head up just as high as he did, and you were very much one of those people. You were giggling as you stole a biscuit from a friend and popped it into your mouth, you covered your mouth as you laughed when they complained with a little smile of their own.

"It's just so yummy, and I haven't eaten since breakfast." He heard you say, your friend just shook his head and handed you a plate as you sat down next to him. But right before you could get comfortable a sneering group of boys stole a piece of food from your hand and said something rather rude.

Sirius didn't even realize he had been walking towards you, this girl he has never even spoken too, yet thought of so endearingly, until he was standing right before the boys and had the pack leaders wrist firmly in his grip.

"Drop it boy, c'mon, drop it," he teased. It was humiliating for the boy and he knew it by the laughing and sneering others directed towards the group of boys, but Sirius did not care. The boy dropped the biscuit and looked as if his tail was tucked into his legs. "Good boy," he said, ruffling his hair until it was a knotted mess, the boy winced at just how hard Sirius dug his knuckles into his scalp, Sirius relented with a satisfied smirk.

Sirius’s voice took on a much harsher tone, "Now scram." The boys were out of their seats and in new ones within seconds.

Sirius felt his mood shift completely once they left, because now all eyes were on him, yours included. He looked up at you rather shyly, his hair falling in strands over his forehead. He tucked it behind his ear and found some confidence in the way your eyes followed the movement and how you blushed. He gave you his best smile, hoping his charm wasn't as weak as his legs felt at that moment.

"Hello, I'm Sirius... Sirius Black." Then, like an idiot he put his hand out for you to shake, what charmer just shakes the ladies hand? He stopped belittling himself the moment you softly placed your hand in his.

"It's nice to meet you, Sirius, and thanks for helping me. I know how to handle those filthy 'dogs'" you said, smiling as you remembered the way he spoke to them, he chuckled. "But I suppose it's nice not always having to," you finished with a bright smile on your face. He felt his own cheeks heat up and he nodded but could not think of anything better to say.

"Name," he said, you raised your brows. He cleared his throat, "your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me," you said and then you laughed, that same laugh that caught his attention and has yet to let go. "I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Nice to meet you," he said, it was as if he couldn't feel the appalled stares of your friends because all he could see was the blush on your cheeks and your head thrown back in laughter. He swallowed thickly before making his way back to his friends. They all wore raised brows and smirks, and he knew they were about to bite into him.

"Treating them like dogs, really? A bit ironic don't you think," Lily said, James shrugged

"That's why it was so good," he said, high fiving Sirius.

"But it admittedly went downhill from there," Peter was sure to add, just like Sirius knew one of them would. Sirius just laughed, too elated to finally know who you were.

"Don't start," he said, but it was too late.

All in union they sputtered out the lame word that will plague Sirius' memory of that moment forever, "Name?"

They cackled at him and ruffled his hair all the way to their seats, but Sirius knew they were pleased for him. And Sirius didn't mind, he could feel the pretty eyes of a pretty girl following him across the room. If only someone told him how important she would become to him, maybe he would have looked back at her and never looked away.

Taglist <3

@enchantedblackrose

[songbirdsingingthings]

Pinky Promises

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE CHARACTERS, THEY BELONG TO HAJIME ISAYAMA

WARNINGS: Angst (this is sad ngl but neither you nor Levi dies), light cursing

It was like the world was falling apart. The feeling in your heart was comparable to the fabrics of the universe being ripped away from each other - all the careful stitching being torn with just a single action. All around you was a green blur, which you could barely see due to the speed your horse was currently galloping at. This was supposed to be a simple mission - capture, or most likely kill, the female abnormal titan that had been now considered a minor plague to the Survey Corps. The squad you were a part of was one of the best of the best, and was even captained by “humanity’s strongest soldier”, Levi Ackerman. You remember the day you had been one of the lucky ones picked to be on his squad - your dreams of really making a difference becoming a reality. But right now? Right now, your feeling of wonder that you first had when you joined the regiment had been shattered. Absolutely obliterated, because all around you were your friends’ bodies strewn across the forest floor. 

------------------------------------- Flashback ----------------------------------------

“Oh gosh, Y/N, I really hope we get assigned to Captain Levi’s squad! He’s the best there is!” A sweet cheer erupted from your lifelong friend, Petra. You laugh at her and lean back on your bed. At the moment, only you two were in the female barracks, so you could be as loud as you wanted.

“That would be amazing,” you sighed, letting your head hit your pillow rather ungracefully. “Getting to kill titans with him would just be so cool.” You close your eyes but hear your friend giggle. “Whaatt?” You groan.

“Just ‘cool’? You totally have the hots for him.” You sit up quickly, forgetting that you were on a top bunk, and end up knocking your head on the wooden ceiling, causing Petra’s giggles to turn into a snicker.

“Yeah, well, whatever!” Your face was now flushing, pink dancing across your cheeks. “You don’t hear me teasing you about your feelings for Oluo, now do you Petty?” You say, throwing your pillow towards the girl.

“H-hey! Not so loud! And besides, haven’t I told you not to call me that? It makes me sound annoying and rude,” your friend protests, sticking her tongue out at you.

“No can do, that was what I came up with when we were seven, and it’s sticking.” You state firmly, a grin falling onto your face. Petra simply rolls her eyes and throws your pillow back to you.

“I’m serious though, Y/N/N. Big things could happen for us if he picks us.” Petra says, a more mature lilt gracing her voice. You pull a scratchy blanket over your body and curl into it.

“I know. We’ve trained so hard and every time we’ve gone out, we always do pretty well.” You say. A beat of silence passes through the two of you.

“Let's make a promise to each other.” Your friend suggests, standing up from her bottom bunk to stand in front of you. You turn your head to face her and quirk an eyebrow.

“Petra, the amount of promises we’ve made are uncountable. They’ve literally ranged from always sharing chocolate if we’re able to get our hands on it to saying that if only one of us gets onto Levi’s squad then we won’t do it.”

“This one’s different.” She says, sticking her pinky finger out. You roll your eyes, but stick out your pinky finger to link with hers. “If something happens to one of us-”

“Woah woah woah, Petra, slow down.” You say with a frantic tone in your voice.

“If something happens to one of us,” she repeats, “then the other can’t bail. They have to stay in the Survey Corps and do the best they possibly can, okay?” Petra’s eyes were sincere but there was no smile on her face.

“Yeah okay.” You mumble. Petra nods and walks back to her bed. 

---------------------------------- End of Flashback ------------------------------------

You usher yourself to go faster as you swing through the forest with your now dwindling group. You all had abandoned your horses earlier - they wouldn’t be able to keep you alive. The female titan was hot on your trails, running at a remarkable speed. A shout from up in the treetops made you turn your head. Eld swung down near the female titan, trying to get close to her nape. One second was all it took for the titan to open her mouth and crush him.

“ELD!” A strangled cry from Petra made you look back to her, your eyes wide. You feel a tear roll down your cheek - you and Eld were always friendly. He’s a nice… was a nice guy. You lock eyes with your friend to see that she was holding up her pinky. You nod and do the same. You try to gather your surroundings once again. Eren, who was now one of the Scout Regiment’s biggest assets, was above you. Petra was to your right. Oluo was behind you.

“She can see again?! That’s impossible!” Your friend cries, her eyes now wild with fear. “It hasn’t even been thirty seconds!” You rack your brain with possible answers but none come up. This entire situation was unprecedented and dangerous - nothing made sense to you anymore. You spare a glance at the female titan to get a look, and it seemed that Petra did the same because her observation matched yours. “Only one eye?! She channeled her energy into one eye to grow it back quicker?! How could she do that?!” Her shout was strangled, like it was getting even harder for her to breath. 

“Petra! Pull yourself together!” A shout laced with concern from behind you that belonged to Oluo rang out. The female titan was now basically next to Petra. This was bad. This was so, so bad.

“PETRA!!!” You shriek. Your lifelong friend’s screams seemed to echo through the forest. And then, as quickly as it took to take a breath, her body was crushed into a tree. Where her’s were cut off, they were replaced with yours. Agony racked your body as you screamed and cried out, tears flowing through your eyes as you had to leave her body to try and escape with your own life. If something happens to one of us, then the other can’t bail. They have to stay in the Survey Corps and do the best they possibly can, okay? Petra’s voice seemed to reverberate through your mind as you kept swinging. You take in your surroundings once more. Eren was above you and Oluo, the last member of your squad, sans Captain Levi, was behind you. That’s when you hear the sound of ODM gear grappling to the titan behind you. You beg and pray to anybody who could listen to let this be it. Let him take down the monster that had taken so many of your friends’ lives. But of course, the world was a cruel, cruel place.

“Now, DIE!” Oluo shouts, his voice almost turning into a snarl. He tried to slice her nape, but the titan hardened her skin, breaking his blades in half. You swore you could hear him mutter something, but you would never know. He was immediately crushed to death by a forceful kick from the titan.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!” You hear Eren’s strangled cries from above you and a flash of light takes his place, turning him into a titan. The two titans run off in a different direction, allowing you to double back. You swing through the trees, eyes scanning the forest floor until you find her. You drop down onto the ground and run towards her with all the strength you could find in your body and collapse next to her. Her eyes were open but her spirit had long since left them. Her whole body had paled and blood stained her hair. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Forgoing your once stoic expression, you sobbed. Your hands clutched her body, trying to find any warmth that once belonged to her. Your favorite partner in crime. Your deepest confidant. Your friend.

------------------------------------- Flashback ----------------------------------------

“So guess what.” You say, setting your tray down across from your friend. Petra looked up at you with a curious look in her eyes.

“I don’t know, what?” You roll your eyes and bite into your apple.

“It’s no fun when you do that Petty. You have to guess.”

“Well judging by those sparkles in your eyes, I’m guessing it has something to do with Cap-tain Le-vi” She says, using a singsong voice for the last two words. Your cheeks flush as you swallow your bite.

“He put me second in charge for this little mission thing we’re doing. He even complimented me.” You gush, taking another bite. Petra looked at you, a wide grin settling onto her face.

“Go Y/N!” she cheered.

“Why are we cheering on Y/N?” A deeper voice asked. Oluo settled down next to Petra, which didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Yeah, did she finally get some with Cap?” Eld teased, nudging you. Your face boasts the hue of the fruit you were eating as you slap him on the shoulder.

“Eld, what the hell? Don’t say that so loudly!” You whisper-yell, a hard look on your face.

“You’re not denying it.” He says, spooning some broth into his mouth.

“No, I didn’t ‘get some’ with Captain Levi. There’s me denying it.” That earns a laugh from all of your friends. You all settle down to eat the rest of your dinner and get prepped for the mission tomorrow.

“Hey I heard a bunch of new recruits are coming next week.” Oluo says, double checking to make sure his gas canisters are properly filled. You hum in response as you clean the metal of your blades.

“What are we up to now, 102nd? 103rd?” Eld wonders.

“104th,” Petra corrects. 

“That’ll be messy,” you mumble, earning a ‘duh’ from Eld.

“New recruits are always messy. We just gotta make sure we don’t die from one of their mistakes.”

---------------------------------- End of Flashback ------------------------------------

The sound of ODM gear whizzed by your ear, but you didn’t look up. You didn’t care right now. You felt two feet land behind yourself and make their way over to you. You knew it wouldn’t be Eren, and using the transitive property, it wouldn’t be Mikasa either. That left just one person. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. But, when he placed a hand on your shoulder, you had to turn around to face him. Levi’s face was cool, indifferent. But his eyes… there was something in his eyes that you had never seen in them before. They looked sad, but with a twinge of hope, like he might’ve thought that at least one more person survived. You had to be the one to tell him.

“They’re all gone.” You manage to croak out. “I-it happened so fast. First it was Eld, and then P-Petra, and Oluo followed her of course.” You say, chuckling at the last part. Levi quirked an eyebrow.

“Your wording is curious. Why of course?” He asked with a monotone voice. Fresh tears fall onto your cheeks.

“They were engaged. She just sent a letter to her dad,” You give Levi a wobbly smile. “I really wanted to be there. She said that I would be her maid of honor. She wanted you there too, so did Oluo.” Levi closes his eyes for a moment. You knew every passing moment was one more moment closer to you having to say goodbye to Petra. You glance at the wings patch on her jacket and then back up to Levi. “Can I borrow your pocket knife? You said you always have one on you.” He nods and fishes the small object out of his breast pocket, and hands it to you. You notice his hands shake a bit, so without thinking, you clasp your two open ones around his. He looks up to you and you see the beginnings of his apathetic appearance crumble. He pulls you close to him and wraps his arms around your body. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck and you do the same.

“You’re still here.” He says, tightening his hold on you. You nod and feel your tears dampen his cloak.

“I’m still here.”  

 The months following your friends’ deaths were hard, but you found a new confidant in Levi. While you had always admired him, never had you talked to him about anything so casual like your social lives. Now, it was much different. Your whole dynamic with him had been flipped on its head. No longer were you the wide-eyed and bushy-tailed girl, pining after her captain. While the deaths of your friends certainly damaged you, they also helped you emerge from your chrysalis and become a butterfly. A mature, strong, and independent butterfly… who might be currently involved in a romance of her own. It took a little bit to get there. The many nights of seeking each other for comfort and to ward away your nightmares blossomed into just seeking each other out for no reason at all other than to just see each other’s faces. The once quick glances between the two of you now lasted longer, and during mealtimes, he would hold your hand underneath the table. Levi wasn’t a Romeo and Juliet type of lover and he never would be - you knew that. However, you also knew that he loved you, even though he might not say it that much. His gestures spoke for him. And when he kissed you in the privacy of his quarters, you felt like the world was perfect for just a few seconds. You forgot about how all around you your friends were dying and that there were giant monsters trying to kill you. It was like there was this invisible string that connected the two of you, tying your fates together. The last standing members of Squad Levi, part of the last group of Scouts to survive the Beast Titan’s ferocious attacks. If Levi was there, you were too, fighting your way through to try and find an ending in which you win, maybe you could even settle down with him. But for now, you just had to fuel yourself with these stolen moments with him - when he would give you sweet kisses that contradicted the uninterested tone that he used with everyone, including you, when he would read to you whenever you couldn’t fall asleep, and when he would give in and promise you with your pinkies linked that he would always be there for you. And in your experience, pinky promises always held up.

[numbaoneflaya]

Can I get a list of all ur ocs?

Well anon youve done it, you made me make a list of all my major OCS in one place. I hope your happy with yourself. Under the cut for obvious reasons, may link in my blog desc later.

Modern/BTD verse!!

Jilly- Ferret beastkin little creature, was recently turned into a werewolf by vincent as well so she's running around on full moons in a wereferret wolf hybrid creature form. Chaotic and friendly and wants to be everyone's bestie. She has the most energy in the world and is very kind hearted. Banned from most Claires for stealing and from one Home Depot for climbing the shelves. Prone to living life with rose colored glasses on and seeing the best in everything/everything even when there's nothing there. Socialization is a must for her and is why being basemented/kidnapped broke her psych so quickly and developed severe stockholm. Sometimes overly talkative/enthusiastic and can scare people off. Even if she sees someone shes decided shes friends with be noticeably 'evil', will convince herself it must be for some reason/her fault and ignore it.

Ciggy- Undead punk still learning to harness his powers to interact with the world as a ghost. Was sacrificed by a cult he joined for free concert tickets and to get laid. Likes to cause problems on purpose both pre and prior death and he's not above possessing someone once he learns how to. Was called Rooster in high school before he dropped out because he's loud, obnoxious and always screaming. And also has bright red dyed hair. Looking 4 ways to become less ghosty bcs he wants to be able to help raise his infant daughter, whom he died before he could meet. Bit annoying and in your face, likes poking at bruises, his or others. Kind of a sad heart seeking attention through volume and persistence.

Mike: Vampire loser! Sells drugs and lives at raves. Was turned when she was attacked by a coked out vampire (whom she supplied the product to) and has major scarring on her face and chest. Needs a somewhat constant influx of blood so shell sometimes take victims back to her place and chain them up, slowly draining them over time. Feels bad (ish) about it tho so it is possible to survive her if you are nice and or interesting enough. Kind of desperate for a friend and for love. Is a stalker. If she likes you enough/finds you interesting, she might just appear in your house one night and start rummaging through your fridge like nothing is wrong and youve been besties for years. Its best to indulge her and be friendly, otherwise she could turn violent quickly if her feelings are hurt.

Kilaine- Regular human woman, but fucked up. Born and raised by an elite waspy society she had an interest in the human body and pain tolerance since she was young. Quickly learned that these traits were socially unacceptable in most professions, so she became a doctor. The only family she cared about was her younger sister who she lost in a car accident, where they were flipped over and trapped inside while it was afire. While her sister burned up in front of her Kilaine only lost her left arm and had major burns on her body. This tipped her descent into sadism and she is now madly obsessed with bringing her sister back no matter the cost. Rude and offstandish, clinical.

Dragon age verse!

Thurwen- My main Hero of Ferelden with a bad temper and a heart of gold. City elf from the Denerim Alienage, 18 at the start of origins. She's a reaver warrior with a lot of pent up rage which sometimes scares others when she lets it out in battle. Over the years she's grown less moody as she's had to take the role of Commander. Crude sense of humor and violent impulses, very sensitive to the plights of others and tries often to help. Never seen crying in public but only cries to herself at night- major martyr and hanged man complex.

Caz- My circle mage elf inquisitor who was an apostate before the conclave. Blood magic, but make it sneaky. Wary of strangers and new faces, always dealing with the impulse to flee/find a high vantage point. Endless curiosity about the unknown/ the forbidden/ naughty, was supposed to be made tranquil for it but she escaped. Kind of a little creature as well, lived on her own for a while as an apostate in the woods, filed her teeth down to sharp ends to make herself look more intimidating (shes 5 ft tall) and less cute (her elf ears are huge and expressive, which shes embarrassed about)

Dag and Thagna- Carta twins! Professional lyrium smugglers since birth pretty much. Raised casteless in dust town and had to work their way up the chain of command by themselves. Dag is the brother, Thagna the sister. Their father traded them to the carta for drinking money and their mom died in childbirth so they have somewhat of a codependent relationship. Both charismatic and calculating, friendly and agreeable but won't hesitate to put a dagger in your back. Hard to pin down morally or physically, squirrelly bastards.

Reila: Dalish elf who works for the inquisition/ is the inquisitor in some aus. She has an extreme fixation on elvhen history and rebuilding what they have lost. Not a people person, prefers solitude. Takes some time to warm up to shemhlen as she has a hard history with them. Good friends with Caz, who recruited her in the first place. Doesn't understand very many social cues and finds societal expectations limiting and frustrating. Fondness for halla and hooved animals, which she finds graceful.

Elder scrolls verse!

Valkya: Near seven foot nord woman whos over a thousand years old by the events of skyrim. Tall and buff, two handed warrior and compulsive hero there to bask in the spotlight save the day. She was killed at the start of the events of Elder scrolls online and had her soul ripped out and sent to coldharbor and she's just been a pain in the ass about it since then. Her body can physically die and will not regrow pieces. Her soul however will escape and teleport to the nearest source of power where her body will regrow from an aetherial plasm until its whole again. Loud and brash, friendly and jovial. Actually pretty keen especially after centuries of life but prefers to play dumb as it makes people underestimate her. Plus, she really does enjoy mud wrestling and drinking contests and acting generally like a rambunctious frat boy. Ha developed a bit of a substance problem and a problem with acting out, as after being alive so long she would turn to anything to dull the ache inside of her that never goes away.

Espira- My Dragonborn! Redguard from Hammerfell who was briefly in the Ash’abah due to killing undead while protecting her parents water farm as a child. Ran away from them after years and went to Cyrodille, then to Skyrim and was caught crossing the border. Reserved, kind and soft spoken, she's a sword and shield warrior who's committed herself to doing good in the world by helping others. Dislikes killing and anything messy but believes it is often necessary in order to protect the weak. She blacksmiths often to save money on the upkeep of her own equipment, and takes up metal jewelry working as a hobby with the excess material. Prone to trusting others too much and giving too many second chances, as shes always looking for ways to make even the most hardened criminal a second look at life.

Riley- Espiras little brother who she locked in the wardrobe during the event of the water farm attack. In preventing him from doing violence against the undead she kept him from being conscripted into the Ash’abah. He's way more chaotic than his sister, and suffers from a case of little sibling syndrome in which he will often pester/poke at people just to get a rise out of them. Still kind hearted as his sister, he tries to hide it because he believes that the world is a cruel place and the cruel survive. Despite that belief he is often still unable to force himself to be cruel/careless, only making a show of it so that others leave him alone and don't see that he's very sensitive and emotional. Deaf in one ear due to a magic mishap in his youth, he trained and enchanted his most beloved rats to live for years and sit on his shoulder, alerting him to noises he would not otherwise notice.

Felria: Evil vamp :/ chaotic evil dunmer necromancer. Small and devilish and likes dead bodies too much. Manipulative and cunning, she loves acting. She's a trained assassin for the dark brotherhood and is the speaker. Likes dressing up for missions and wearing disguises like its all a play. Loves toying with people more than she loves killing them, will act in ways that cause as much trauma as possible for other people just for fun and she finds the reactions interesting. Considers herself too far removed from most people's perception of morality and of her so it's hard for her to trust someone or see them as worthy of knowing her. Finds the psychology of grief and fear to be interesting and wants to study them first hand. The hero of kvatch.

Herren: Fifty something year old rat woman looking for something to keep her going. Ran away from her wealthy family in her youth when they wanted her to take charge of the household, instead became an infamous jewel thief and swashbuckler. Spent most of her life traveling and stealing and double dealing. She's smarmy and sarcastic, a serial romancer of the highest caliber. Bit of a show off and a hedonist, always looking for the next good party or new product to snort. Her family died off due to the hard times she wasn't there for and she keeps looking for bigger and bigger heists to fill her appetite as she's chronically bored and lonely, though wont accept intimacy and will scoff at it out of the belief she doesn't deserve it. Irresponsible and selfish, lonely and terrified of any sort of commitment. Fun to party with though!

[chara-afton]

Unordinary Family [4]

Warning, Emotional and mental abuse. Someone gets their nose broken.

Lolita loved being at Jay’s as he made her feel safe and cherished. She even brought Bran by to share the joy she feels when she’s there with him, like how she wished mommy would act and treat her.

It was two days after the birthday party Jay threw for her and Bran and she was trying to convince her other two siblings to go meet Jay, and only Cashimire was fine with seeing this kind human.

“If you say he is kind, I will take your word for it and visit him” Cashimire spoke gently while Mirabelle hissed angrily.

“Bullshit, you know humans are all the same! He’s probably playing you like those fairies play humans, like a fiddle, he’ll show his true colors soon enough and hurt you!” Mirabelle snapped at Lolita who hissed back.

“No! He’s nice!” Lolita snapped back, Bran looking between Mirabelle and Lolita; looking lost and confused.

Cashimire sighed and said evenly “Maybe he’s like all the other humans we’ve met before, or maybe he’s different, there’s no point in arguing about it here” He stood up, his tall and lanky form as he headed out the door silently.

Lolita huffed angrily, but noticed a second person leaving the house and towards the door leading outside, Mother.

Everyone fell silent as they watched her leave the house, not sparing a word or glance towards them as if they didn’t even exist.

Lolita snuck out after her quietly, just in case to keep Mother safe.

Mother knew where this cabin was, she’s been here so long she knows where everything is. She knew this man was there for the past week, healing so she’s been told.

She came up to the old building, glad that the previous occupant wasn’t here as she felt they were a little shit who didn’t deserve to be alive.

She knocked on the door, strong knocks she’s certain he’d hear. But a moment of silence passed before a careful and cautious “Come in” sounded from inside.

The man on the bed had casts on both his legs and one on his arm, and his hair was a little long and messy. He stared her down with a steely gaze and bags under his eyes as if he spent most of his time awake instead of getting the sleep he needed.

“Who are you?” He asked her with a warning tone, he didn’t seem like much to her with his scrawny form.

“I am Luanne” She explained, Jay’s eyes darkened as she walks in and closes the door “I am here to tell you to stop….trying to make them feel like humans, they aren’t”

Jay grimaces as he tenses, struggling to not just punch in her stupid face, he takes a deep breathe through his nose as she continues.

“They’re wendigoes, do you get that? Human eating monsters that feel nothing but hungry and the joy for murder” she spoke, voice raising the more she talked.

“You’re their mother...aren’t you” Jay said calmly, trying to stay calm, he could tell she was pregnant, it wouldn’t do to hit a pregnant woman.

Luanne scoffed “I’m not their mother, regardless on if they came out of me or not, humans don’t parent monsters, and they aren’t children, and certainly not my children” she seethed.

Jay straightened his body and turned himself to face her fully, feet on the floor “they care for you, how could you not care for your own flesh and blood?” he asked, baffled and gobsmacked at how….much he wanted to murder this rude ass bitch.

She glares at him “I am not a mother to something that can’t die, to things that eat my own kind, they deserve death, and if they truly loved me, they’d curl up and die”

Jay gets up on unsteady legs, voice raising in volume now “If you don’t want them, i’ll take them, they’re good kids, i can’t understand how you can be such a cruel bitch!” he shouted.

“They aren’t good kids, You can still run away from this! They won’t ever let you die the moment you live from giving birth to one of those monsters, i’m the unlucky one who can give birth to these freaks of nature!” she shouted back, yelping in surprise when Jay lunged forward and punched her square in the face, a loud crack filling the air as she and Jay both fell to the ground.

“Fuck!” Jay snarled as he held onto his throbbing leg as Luanne held onto her bleeding nose and scooted away from him.

The door opened and Lolita darted in for Luanne “Mommy, are you ok?” but before she could try and help her mother up, Luanne backhanded Lolita hard to the floor.

“Stay away from me you little monster!” roared Luanne who glanced back at Jay but froze at his murderous look, she felt chilled to the bone as she understood that Jay really was wanting to kill her, so she darted out of the house.

Lolita curls up on the floor and sniffles softly at first before she starts to cry.

Jay slowly moved over to Lolita and petted her hair gently “shhh, it’s ok, she’s wrong, are you ok Lolita?” Jay asked.

Lolita softly hugged Jay and just cried harder, what did she do that made her Mother hate her so much?

[lexiecarver]

I’m a Believer

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Word Count: 1,876

A/N: This was written for @one-shots-supernatural‘s10k Follower celebration Challenge with the prompt, marriage. This was also written for @d-s-winchester’s Blog Anniversary Song Challenge with the song, Sleep Without You. This was also written for @mrs-squirrel-chester‘s album Fanfic Writing Challenge. I picked the album Ash &Ice by the Kills and the song, Hum For Your Buzz, which is the 7th song on the album, inspired this fic. This is from Crowley’s perspective. Erotica is referenced vaguely. A giant pile of Crowley fluff. :)

Also on AO3

I had never wanted a Queen or anyone by my side. I figured I didn’t need it. Human emotions are a messy thing that I would rather avoid. But that was before I met Y/N. She was a ray of sunshine in my dark world. I had never imagined she would date me much less marry me. I was overjoyed that she agreed to be my Queen.

Oh babe

Never thought I would be like this

Wide awake waitin’ on a goodnight kiss

Sippin’ ninety proof

Talkin’ to the moon

To my followers and the world, I had to appear like the cruel uncaring demon I was before her. But truthfully she changed me little by little from the second we started dating. We’ve been married for years now and every time I see her I feel something– love. I want to protect her every second. She brings out all the sweetness I didn’t know I possessed. With her, I want to do better, be a better man. Y/N understands that I have to wear a mask when talking to my demons. She doesn’t try to change me; she takes me as I am.

Y/N is an amazing human who knows that I’m the King of hell and doesn’t care. I told her after a month of dating. Her response was, “You don’t choose who you, love; love chooses for you.” Every time she enters a room my heart beats faster and my eyes shine with such love and devotion. I would do anything she asks. I run to her no matter what is happening in hell, if I even have an inkling she may be sad or in trouble. She is the love of my life.  I’m a believer, love is real, I deserve it and I have it.

Sex with Y/N is very fast and hurried. Every single time is like magic. Her body writhing under mine, egging me on as I grab her hair and tell her all the filthy things I’ll do and how she makes me feel. How I want to fuck her every second of the day.  She always wears my favorite black lace panties. I love them on her. She body conforms to the lace and makes her breasts look so delicious and perky. She’s just the right kind of kinky and doesn’t shy away from being my good little sub and trusting her master to give her the kind of pleasure she could only dream of. When she says my name, it’s like a prayer.

On the rare occasion we don’t include any kink and instead, we just make love. I hold her and shower her with kisses all over her body. I whisper qualities and things I love about her. The thrusts are slower and I focus more on her facial features. I hang on every moan she makes. I never feel more connected with Y/N than in these moments.

I close my eyes slowly controlling my breaths as I white-knuckle my throne. I can hear her giggles and kisses as she goes lower, lower. And yep I’m tenting in front of my court with a demon babbling in front of me. I shift awkwardly in my chair rushing too fast to my phone when it vibrates. My thoughts are always on her no matter what I’m doing. Usually, though I have a bit more control.

[Text]: I’ll be out late again. Sorry, baby. Out with the girls. Gabby came and we haven’t seen each other in such a long time…. Wait for me and we can snuggle? I can’t wait to feel your arms around me.

I can’t hide the smile at her words. I always smile from every text message I get from her. A part of me thinks it’s pathetic that I only feel truly alive when Y/N sends me a text. Thankfully it’s only a small part of me. A part I will never listen to because with her I’m not a cruel demon, I’m her soul mate. I smirk at the phone as I think up a response.

Coutin’ down the hours till its two AM

Never thought I would be like this

But as long as the night ends with you in a yellow cab shootin’ me a text sayin’

Comin’ home soon

I notice eyes on me. My demons are observing me carefully. I have to be careful here and not let slip that I have feelings. I text back hurriedly put on an air of boredom and frustration at being so rudely interrupted.

[Text]: Have fun with the girls, love. I can’t wait to feel your body in my strong arms. Xoxo Your King and master.”

The demon in front of me unceremoniously clears his throat. I suppress a growl at him from taking my attention and thoughts away from Y/N. I sit straighter on my throne and my eyes bore down on my subjects.

I spend the rest of the time trying to listen to their concerns. Thoughts of Y/N keep flittering back to me. I replay conversations we’ve had in the last week. I see her smile back at me.

I sigh heavily counting the minutes until she’s home. I go through the rest of my day like a zombie until I’m off the clock so to speak. I type in the code and take the elevator up from hell to the penthouse apartment I share with my Queen. I lie down on the bed and lazily turn on the TV. Of course, nothing intriguing is on. I decide to watch some of Y/N’s favorite shows wanting to feel close to her. I twirl my wedding ring around my ring finger thinking of her. As it gets later and later I start to worry until I feel a vibration. Looking down at the bed I see a text from you.

[Text]: Hey baby, so sorry. I know it’s 2 am. Sorry to worry you. I’m on my way home now.

As long as I can bet on ya crawlin’ into bed after slippin’ out ya high heel shoes

I ain’t lyin’ sayin’ havin’ a good time

Out with your girls

Girl do what you do

No matter how late

Baby I’ll be stayin’ up

I can’t sleep without you

I’d be tossin’ and turnin’ all night babe

From the smell of your hair on the pillow case

Even if I tried without you by my side I’d be dreamin with my eyes open

I’d be tossin’ and turnin’ all night babe

But as long as the night ends with you in a yellow cab shootin’ me a text sayin’

Comin’ home soon

I instantly calm down. Y/N will be home soon. I find myself getting excited and pouf in food thinking she’ll be hungry. Then I figure she might like a massage and something for the inevitable hang-on she’ll have in the morning. As her master and her husband, I have to make sure she is well taken care of.

The second Y/N walks in I beam at her and make the whole rest of the night about her. Whatever she wants, she gets. We forget any dominance games, the night is hers and I’m here to serve her. I slowly take off her clothes and tell her to use me any way she wants. She jumps on top of my cock and doesn’t waste any time spiraling towards her orgasm. I bite my lip wanting to come but I want her to take as many orgasms as she wants from me. She settles on four, my greedy little minx. I couldn’t be more proud. I beg her to come. She loves hearing me beg. A demon, the King of Hell begging his human to let him come. What girl wouldn’t like that, right? When she finally allows me to come, I growl so loud her eye widen. I laugh and flip her over kissing her neck. I hold her in my arms and she falls asleep almost immediately.

As long as I can bet on ya crawlin’ into bed after slippin’ out ya high heel shoes

I ain’t lyin sayin havin a good time

Out with your girls, girl do what you do

No matter how late

Baby I’ll be stayin’ up

I can’t sleep without you, no

I can’t sleep without you, no, no

I bet that DJ’S playin’ your song

And your carryin’ on

Baby I love the thought of that long as I know I’m the one you’re comin home to

But as long as the night ends with you in a yellow cab shootin’ me a text sayin’

Comin’ home soon

I feel so lucky that this is what happens every day. I get to wake up to her forever. I have this extraordinary woman as my wife. I get to shower her with love and make love to her every night. I didn’t know I needed this. I didn’t know this was what love meant before I met her. But I now know I can’t get enough of her love.

I get an urgent text from a demon and I have to leave. I hate leaving. It takes everything I have to leave her and this cocoon of love into a world where I have to be cruel. I’m happy she doesn’t see me in hell, doesn’t live there. This vision of me is better than the one my demons see. I kiss her on her forehead and leave. Y/N was asleep when I left but ten minutes later I get a text from her.

[Text]: Baby? Where are you?”

[Text]: I’m so sorry, poppet. A demon made a mess I had to clean up.”

[Text]: Is it done, baby, because I can’t sleep without you. I tried. I know you have to work and I don’t want to be the wife that demands that her husband be with her all the time but I need you.

[Text]: Never apologize for your love, poppet.

[Text]: I’ve been tossing and turning and…

I appear before her and she stops texting and holds out her hands to me. I smile at her and grab her close turning her to her side. I moan when she rubs her ass against my already hard cock. My cock is always hard the second I see her or think of her. Really it’s pretty much always hard because she’s always on my mind.

“Sleep, little one, and when you wake up….”

Crowley grinds his cock against her ass.

“This is all yours.”

I felt her quiet down and slowly fall asleep again in my arms. I sighed and fell asleep as well, hoping I’d dream of her.

As long as I can bet on ya crawlin’ into bed after slippin’ out ya high heel shoes

I ain’t lyin sayin havin a good time

Out with your girls, girl do what you do

No matter how late

Baby I’ll be stayin’ up

I can’t sleep without you

Ya no matter how late I’ll be stayin up I can’t sleep without you no

Can’t sleep without you

I can’t sleep without you

Never thought I would be like this

Just wide awake waitin’ on a goodnight kiss

[skiecas]

iwaoi in an office au? :o

A dull ache presses at the back of his eyes and splits his forehead in two. The washed-out grey of the fluorescent bulb flickers at a steady pace, and the numbers on the screen all swim into one as the rhythmic clacking of the keyboard stretches out the afternoon into a dull monotony. He needs a cigarette about as badly as he needs a painkiller.

The intercom on his desk buzzes softly, and a female voice crackles on the line. “Iwaizumi-san, someone from maintenance is here to change your bulb.”

“Send them in,” he responds, then leans back in his chair and digs the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough to see stars.

The spots eventually faze back into the unwelcome sight of his office, and he can see that a ladder has walked in through the door, followed closely by a man Iwaizumi can only describe as all-legs. Tufts of messy brown hair curl out from under the baseball cap that shrouds his face, but he’s dressed in the faded brown uniform of the company’s maintenance workers, somehow managing to make it look model-esque despite the hideous color scheme and the mysterious stains that must come with the job. A white patch sewed onto his chest reads his name: Oikawa.

“Yahoo~” he sings, waving about the box in his hand with the fresh bulb. “Did someone call for a little lightbulb switcheroo?”

Iwaizumi hates him instantly.

He juts a hand towards the flickering light, grunting, “Over there.”

“What a nasty little case you’ve got here,” Oikawa says, tutting as he looks up at the old bulb.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. Obviously it was bad to have required him to come up here. No one called maintenance workers to fix things that weren’t broken.

Oikawa switches off the light, then proceeds to prop up his ladder below the fixture, tuck the new bulb under his arm, and climb up the steps to plant himself down at the very top. Somehow he manages to make the same amount of noise a conspicuous elephant might make, stomping about in the tiny halls of their building. As he unscrews the old bulb, he begins to hum something unfamiliar and decidedly pop-sounding under his breath.

Iwaizumi glares at his computer screen. He’s still got a splitting headache, partially from the flickering light and partially from the inevitable hours of overtime awaiting him this evening, and everyone on this floor knows he expects silence to the point that they must tip-toe if they pass his office. Reasonably, he can’t expect a mere maintenance worker to know of this rule, so he tries to keep his temper in check.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” he begins.

“Then don’t say anything, Iwaizumi-san,” Oikawa laughs, then picks right back up with his humming as if he had not been interrupted.

Iwaizumi opens his mouth, then closes it, trying to regroup his thoughts after they had suddenly scattered. How is anyone supposed to respond to that? Eventually, he rumbles, “Stop humming. I’ve got a headache.”

“Uh-oh!” the workers exclaims. “That’s no good!”

He doesn’t even try to keep his voice down, the bastard, and the last of Iwaizumi’s patience hangs on a perilous thread. Oikawa chooses this moment to jump from the ladder and land soundlessly on the office floor, and yet another small racket echoes in the barren space as he packs up the steps.

Iwaizumi opens his mouth to let loose a string of curses, then stops himself.

The light is no longer flickering.

It occurs to him, behind the dull migraine and his withering impatience, that Oikawa had managed to get the job done impossibly fast; Iwaizumi can’t even recall him popping off the screen or screwing in the new bulb, and he doesn’t think his headache has everything to do with it.

The worker approaches his desk, then, and though his face is still covered behind the rim of his baseball cap, he appears to be smiling. Iwaizumi blinks when he reaches into his uniform pocket and sets down a small bottle on his desk.

Painkillers, his mind briefly registers.

He’s more distracted by how long and slim the man’s fingers are, how nice they look coiled around the pill bottle, how nimble and efficient they must be to work so impossibly fast.

“Take care, Iwaizumi-san,” he says sweetly, then pushes his cap farther down over his face, hitches up his ladder, and glides out of the office.

As the door shuts behind him, Iwaizumi can hear the faint echoes of his humming lingering down the hall.

-

-

His favorite balcony is currently occupied by three gossiping women from the human resources department. Iwaizumi hears the laughter just by inching open the door by a hair’s width, then promptly stomps away. What he needs is peace and quiet, preferably for the next thirty years, but the next ten minutes would also do nicely.

He relocates to the rooftop. It’s off limits to most employees since his father had been too cheap to install proper guard rails, which means there’s a low risk of running into anyone.

He’s only just stepped out into the fresh air, the packet of cigarettes in his breast pocket feeling exponentially heavy, when he realizes he’s not alone up here.

Someone in a faded brown uniform is looking out at the skyline, smoke billowing from their mouth. At the clunky sound of the metal door sliding shut, the person turns; Iwaizumi makes out a baseball cap, messy brown hair, and a devastating smile.

“Yahoo, boss-man~” Oikawa calls, waggling a few fingers.

In his other hand, he holds a lit cigarette.

Iwaizumi sighs, but decides he’d really rather put up with this nonsense person than relocate again. He joins the man at the edge of the rooftop, not acknowledging his greeting, and pulls out the packet over his breast before patting himself down for a light. He comes up empty.

His brow furrows. He’d remembered to bring a lighter, he’s sure of it.

Oikawa notices him running his hands through his pockets and down his torso, double checking, and smiles. “If I may be so bold, Iwaizumi-san,” he says.

Then he leans in, and Iwaizumi feels more than sees when a hand slides down carefully into his back pocket. The brush of slim fingers curling inside the intimate space shoots something hot down Iwaizumi’s spine.

It had been impossible to tell yesterday, with the dark room and the rim of his cap, but Oikawa is actually quite good-looking. Iwaizumi counts an impossible number of lashes from this close, and there’s even a dusting of freckles over his nose against otherwise sparkling skin. The heat down his back turns into something jittery and discomforting.

Oikawa pulls back, a lighter now in his hand.

“Found it,” he sings, holding it out to Iwaizumi’s outstretched hand. The edge of his smile takes on something more sly, like he can tell by looking at Iwaizumi’s face what he’d been thinking. “Do forgive me for being so forward.”

Iwaizumi is frozen for a moment, then snatches the light.

“What do you mean ‘forward?’” he grunts, looking away. “We’re both guys.”

Oikawa laughs like he’d told him a joke, loud and tinkling, then watches him struggle to spark a flame in the summer breeze. “You know, you really shouldn’t be smoking, Iwaizumi-san. It can kill you.”

He rolls his eyes. “And what about you, huh?”

“Hm?” He looks down at the cigarette in his hand, then shrugs. “Well, no one’s going to care if I die. But you’re a big hotshot CEO with a company to run.”

He laughs again, as if what he’d said was even something to laugh about.

Iwaizumi is decidedly unsure of what to make of this man, who looks as if he belongs on a model runway yet works as a simple maintenance worker in his family’s company, who says morbid things like they’re jokes and hums like it’s serious business. Briefly he wonders how he had never noticed Oikawa roaming the halls of their building before; he certainly can’t keep himself from noticing him now.

“Well, I should really head back to work,” Oikawa says, pulling back from the rooftop edge. He grins, showing off his perfect row of teeth, but it looks all cheap and plastic. “Don’t tell my boss, but I snuck out for a smoke break.”

“Stupid. I’m your boss.”

“Well, then,” he laughs, “I guess I’m lucky I caught my boss sneaking out, too.”

The door clicks shut behind him when he leaves, and Iwaizumi stares at it for a long while even after he’s gone, musing that he had somehow come to meet a strange man indeed.

-

-

The light is flickering again.

Iwaizumi thumbs his temple, reading over the line in his report for the third time. A migraine hasn’t completely settled in yet, but he feels muggy from an afternoon of meetings and the caffeine shooting through his veins has caused a tick in his knee. The flickering light, after they had just switched out the bulb two days ago, feels like a cruel joke sent by the universe to test his patience.

His intercom buzzes. “The maintenance worker is here to fix your light, Iwaizumi-san.”

He’s preoccupied with his report when the door opens, but begins ranting at the first sound of movement. “What the hell gives, Oikawa? You just changed it. It better not start up again, and I swear to god, if you even so much as hum for one second—”

He looks up, and the words taper off his tongue. The worker looking back at him is certainly not Oikawa. He’s wearing the same hideous uniform, but his eyes are beady and the pink color in his hair is either natural or a terrible dye job; judging by the stud pierced through his left ear, Iwaizumi guesses the latter. The nametag on his uniform reads Hanamaki.

“Uhh.” He feels completely stupid. “Where’s Oikawa?”

The man raises a brow. “Who?”

“You know, Oikawa? Baseball cap, long fingers, eighty-percent of his body is his legs? Makes a terrible first impression and doesn’t know what personal space is?”

Hanamaki stares at him, seeming deeply disturbed the more Iwaizumi builds a mental picture in his mind. He shifts, then says, reluctantly, “Sir… the man you’re describing died thirty years ago.”

Iwaizumi’s gut clenches.

No, but, it couldn’t be. He had spoken to him directly. The man had touched him. He’d felt real and sounded real, the smell of his shampoo as he leaned in close had seemed real, he’d even changed his light bulb—which was still flickering. It couldn’t be, and yet…

There’s a telltale snort, then Hanamaki is snickering into his hand. “I’m just kidding,” he says, around a wheeze. “He just went out for lunch.”

Iwaizumi glares at him full throttle, wondering if it’s simply in his fate to despise every maintenance worker he ever comes across.

Maybe he needs to lay off the coffee.

He’s still annoyed several hour later, when the office building has started to empty for the day. He stalks down a hallway and runs into nearly no one aside from a few straggling employees putting finishing touches on their work, which is a blessing; Iwaizumi will likely be here all night, writing up reports for tomorrow’s meeting with their sister company, so he’s not in the most gracious mood of his life.

This is when he crosses paths with Oikawa again.

Following the echoes of laughter drifting down the hallway, he comes across two maintenance workers rummaging through supplies in a broom closet, and the familiar baseball cap gives him pause. It’s Oikawa, with his pink coworker, and they’re in the midst of heckling one another over something on a phone screen and then collapsing on each other in rowdy fits of laughter. They look like they’re having a great time together, and watching them, Iwaizumi feels incredibly, incredibly annoyed.

He’s not quite sure why and he’s not even sure what he plans to spit into Oikawa’s face, but his feet automatically change direction and then he’s charging at them, red in the face, and begins to snarl, “You—!”

This is as far as he gets before Oikawa’s face melts into pleasant surprise, and Iwaizumi’s temper completely melts away with it, seeing the genuine grin that splits the man’s face.

“Iwaizumi-san!” he trills, drawing near. His lashes flutter rapidly in a way that reminds Iwaizumi of a flickering bulb, but without the induced headache. “I’m so glad I ran into you. I’ve been looking everywhere.”

“Uhh. Me?”

He sounds like a caveman; he’s such an idiot.

“Yes, you! I got this for you when I went out for lunch.” Oikawa digs into his pocket, then drops something into Iwaizumi’s hand that crinkles from the contact against his palm. A fortune cookie.

Iwaizumi blinks down at it. “Why’d you get me this?”

Oikawa cranks up the smile, insisting, “No reason, really. You’ve just looked like you’re in a bad mood these days, like you could use some cheering up.” He puts his hands together, then wears his most pleasant smile when he asks, “Can you open it now? I want the fortune inside, if that’s okay. I collect them!”

He moves in mechanical motions, ripping apart the plastic and then snapping the cookie in two. A slip of paper falls out, which Oikawa eagerly collects; he scans the fortune written on top, then beams.

“It says here, ‘You are going to meet a handsome CEO who’s going to fall in love with you at first sight.’ Wow! Very specific, don’t you think, Iwaizumi-san?”

“What?” he barks, through clenched teeth. His neck feels hot. “It does not! Let me see that!”

“Uh-uh~” Oikawa holds it up above his head, and since he’s eighty percent made up of legs, Iwaizumi just barely misses when he makes a swipe for the paper and brushes Oikawa’s wrist instead. Their chests collide together. “It’s my fortune, Iwaizumi-san. Get your own.”

“That is my fortune, dumbass. My cookie, my fortune.”

“I paid for it, so it’s mine!” He clicks his tongue, turning to his friend. Hanamaki’s been following their back and forth with his eyes like it’s a tennis rally, smiling the whole while. “Back me up here, Makki!”

“Hey.” He holds up both hands, as if absolving himself of any say in the matter. “Wish I could, man. But one of you is the freaking CEO of the company I work for, and it sure as hell’s not you.”

Oikawa flounders. “I am the head of maintenance—this is insubordination—”

Iwaizumi smirks. “No one wants to follow a dumbass, dumbass.”

Looking absolutely wounded by the betrayal, he extends the paper cautiously towards Iwaizumi, who snatches it before it could once again be taken away and tries not to appear too smug. Turning his back to the two workers, he pries the fortune apart and looks.

Smile! it says. You’re beautiful inside and out :)

He tosses it straight into the trash.

-

-

Curiously enough, Oikawa continues to crop up into his life in the ensuing week. He’s worked here for two years, he shares one afternoon, and yet Iwaizumi has somehow never once seen him before the bulb in his office had begun to flicker.

“People don’t really pay much attention to maintenance workers,” he muses, though he says it like it’s a crime against humanity.

“Normal ones, maybe,” Iwaizumi snorts. “You’ve got the kind of personality that can’t be ignored.”

“Aww.” He bats his lashes and leans in close, as if he knows exactly the effect it has on Iwaizumi. Against his neck, he breathes, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Iwaizumi kicks him out of his office, face-first, and pretends he doesn’t hear obnoxious laughter on the other side of the door.

Oikawa is like this by nature, he’s slowly realizing: flirty and whimsical. He puts his chin on Hanamaki’s shoulder and begs until his friend shares his lunch, and he leans into Iwaizumi’s face much too often during normal conversation. Iwaizumi asks him once, why he always wears that incessant ball cap, and the answer is a sung, “It’s because I don’t want to distract drivers with my beauty and cause traffic accidents, of course~”

He’s learning never to take Oikawa too seriously.

He’s also learning sometimes it’s just best to run with the moment, whenever Oikawa’s feeling particularly whimsy. It’s not like he hates it completely anyway, getting distracted once in a while from endless reports and boring spreadsheets. He gladly lets his office get infiltrated by two maintenance workers on one evening, lets them hook him by the elbows and drag him out of the building to enjoy a fun and different atmosphere for once. Iwaizumi could use some fun in his life.

This ‘different atmosphere’ turns out to be the bar right across the street, one they frequent often and where they’re good friends with the regular bartender.

“Mattsun,” Oikawa introduces him, to the mammoth behind the counter.

“Matsukawa Issei,” he corrects. But he’s wearing a relaxed smile, like he doesn’t mind Oikawa’s shenanigans or really anything in the world at all. Iwaizumi allows himself to feel envy, just for a little bit; he doesn’t remember anymore how to be in any state other than high-strung.

“Our boss-man has his company card with him, so we’re getting smashed tonight,” Oikawa tells him, looking positively devious under the dim lights of the bar. It’s not a wholly bad look on his pretty face.

“You realize whether I use the company card or my own personal card, it’s all coming out of my own pocket, right?”

“I’m so glad you’re volunteering, Iwa-chan!”

His mouth parts, but Matsukawa groans before he can even begin. “Don’t mind Oikawa. His parents dropped him on his head a lot when he was a baby.”

“But he just wouldn’t die,” Hanamaki laments.

Oikawa squawks indignantly, the two friends high-five, and Iwaizumi grins. He can already tell he’s going to really like these two.

-

-

He was wrong. He hates them.

It’s been exactly one hour and Oikawa’s eyes are already unfocused, but Iwaizumi seems to be the only one who cares. The other two simply keep handing him one drink after another; apparently it’s a game they frequently play, trying to see how drunk they can get their friend and how many secrets they can get him to spill. Iwaizumi doesn’t understand why he’s not more invested in something that involves humiliating Oikawa, but he feels strangely overprotective, seeing that sad and glassy look in his eyes grow the more intoxicated he gets.

“I’m cutting him off,” he finally grunts, sliding off his stool and trying to get Oikawa to do the same. “You two are going to send him into a coma.”

Hanamaki leans over the counter and whispers something to Matsukawa. Iwaizumi thinks he hears the words mother hen but decides to ignore them for now.

Pulling his credit card from his wallet, he slaps it down onto the counter. “Here, cover everyone with this. I’ll come pick it up tomorrow.”

The two hoot and holler after him as he departs, a reluctant Oikawa in tow.

“Whoo!”

“What an impressive guy~”

Oikawa laughs as they exit into the summer night, then blows hot air onto the tips of Iwaizumi’s already-red ears. It’s impossible to tell whether he knows or doesn’t that he’s only making it worse, but with Oikawa, Iwaizumi’s learned, it’s usually the former. He’s still laughing when they get into the back of a cab, when he fires off his address to the driver, and when they take off down the street. But then he pulls off his baseball cap and leans his head against Iwaizumi’s shoulder—and he’s not laughing anymore.

Iwaizumi knows the driver is watching them through the rear-view mirror, but he can’t bring himself to care. He swipes away the bangs sticking to Oikawa’s forehead, then asks, “What’s really up with you and that cap?”

Even now, Oikawa is holding it in his lap with a vice grip as if afraid it would fly away if it was not on his head.

He doesn’t answer right away, and Iwaizumi is resigned to the thought that he’s probably going to pretend he hadn’t heard the question. But then he admits, quietly, “My nephew gave it to me.”

Iwaizumi blinks. “You have a nephew?”

“Yeah. He won it at one of those shooting games at a summer festival when he was little, then gave it to me as a thank-you for taking him.” He smiles down at the cap as if it was projecting the very memory, soft and moonlit.

“So you do have people who’d care if you die,” Iwaizumi says, remembering their conversation from the rooftop.

Oikawa shrugs. “Maybe. He doesn’t remember me much anymore. My sister got remarried and the family moved far away, so we don’t really get to see each other anymore. And he’s growing up, you know? Too busy now with his friends and his video games to talk to his Uncle Tooru.”

“…What about your parents?” Iwaizumi asks, delicately. Or as delicately as he can manage, around his thickened voice.

Oikawa just shrugs again. He doesn’t seem willing to share more than he already has, so Iwaizumi doesn’t pry. The cab ride is silent the rest of the way, but they stay pressed together until the very end.

-

-

His door keeps creaking. He insists it does, at least, and orders for his secretary to call up maintenance and send the head of the department right away, for this very important matter.

Oikawa’s smirk is infuriating and all too knowing when he arrives. “Really, Iwa-chan,” he practically sings, “if you wanted to spend more time with me, then—“

“Door,” Iwaizumi grunts, without looking away from his computer. “Fix it.”

“—so rude.”

He’s huffy, but he quickly gets to work. Iwaizumi smells grease and rusty metal in the air before long, and the door no longer creaks when Oikawa opens it more than halfway. It’s not really a job that requires the head of the maintenance department specifically to come all this way, and they both know it.

Iwaizumi hesitates a beat, then reaches into one of his desk drawers and pulls out a pill bottle. “Your painkillers,” he explains, handing them off. “I took one the day you gave them to me, but I didn’t take any more after that. They’re yours, after all.”

“Hmm, you could have kept them, Iwa-chan,” he insists, pocketing the bottle. “I have more in my locker. And back home.”

Iwaizumi frowns. “What do you need so many for? They’re not candy, stupid.”

“I’m not stupid. Rude. I’ll have you know, they’re prescribed by a doctor and everything. Shall I bring in a doctor’s note, in case I’m breaking any company rules?”

The deprecating tone goes over Iwaizumi’s head, who can feel something squeezing his chest at this new information. That same overprotective feeling from last night surges over him again, almost scaring him. “What do you need painkillers for?” he demands.

Oikawa bends his leg, then points to his kneecap. “My knee, Iwa-chan. It hurts me.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Secret~”

“Oikawa.” He takes on a threatening tone, though it’s a pipe dream to even wish it would work on this infuriating man.

“It’s a long and sad tale, Iwa-chan. You don’t want to hear it.”

“What if I do?”

“Well,” he huffs, “you need to get to at least level fifty of my friendship before you can unlock my tragic backstory.”

“And what level am I at?”

He pulls down the skin under one eye and sticks out his tongue. “Level forty-nine.”

Iwaizumi runs a hand down his face. Worry clenches his stomach and he can’t stop imagining horrible scenarios. What if he sends Oikawa out to do something potentially dangerous, not knowing the full extent of his knee injury, and he never walks again? He couldn’t stand it, if Oikawa were ever hurt because of him or his company. He feels sick and helpless just at the very thought.

Oikawa rounds his desk suddenly, whining, “Aww, come on, Iwa-chan. It’s no fair if you make a face like that.”

He looks up. “What kind of face am I making? Is it enough to get me to level fifty?”

“Oh, my god.” He throws his hands up, as if he’s been completely blown away. “You’re so cute. Stop that right now.”

Iwaizumi roves his tongue over his top row of teeth, but decides to ignore the words and how they make his heart flutter for now. He hopes the earnest look on his face is enough to sway Oikawa—and perhaps it is, because he definitely softens under Iwaizumi’s stare.

“It’s not that big a deal, Iwa-chan,” he sighs. Unconsciously, though, he reaches out to rub his knee as if it’s causing him pain in this very moment. “I just fucked it up really bad right before graduating high school. Then all the agents stopped calling and all the sports scholarships went bye-bye.”

Iwaizumi sucks in his bottom lip. “Oikawa…”

“I had a good offer from a university wanting to scout me, so I never took the entrance exams that year,” he continues, with a shrug. “Then they stopped calling too, and I didn’t have anywhere to go. My parents didn’t expressly tell me to get out, but they always looked at me like I was some dead weight, after that.” He laughs then, but it’s without mirth. “It was stupid, moving out. Some teenage rebellion, maybe, or maybe I just wanted them to say they wanted me to come back. But they didn’t, so I didn’t. And then I was always working after that, trying to pay rent and feed myself. The next year’s entrance exams came, but I couldn’t afford the exam fee and it’s not like I had any time to study anyway. And that’s just what kept happening every year.”

He splays his arms, then sighs dramatically. “And, alas, here I am now! A simple yet devastatingly handsome maintenance man.”

“Oikawa, you’re not—”

“And there you have it,” he speaks over him, and he’s wearing another one of those cheap, plastic smiles from when they first met. “Congratulations, you made it to level fifty! This is usually the part when most people want to stop being friends, because I’m too sad and tragic or I have too much baggage. So, which one will it be this time?”

He’s practically beaming.

Iwaizumi’s heart wrenches, realizing only now that he’s terribly misunderstood Oikawa. He’s not whimsy by nature; people leave him when they find out about the man underneath, about the broken high school boy who lost his dreams, so he’s got this personality perfectly constructed that’ll help him keep people near. He’s not someone to take seriously because he doesn’t want to be taken seriously.

Iwaizumi stares at him, seeing right through that polished smile. He hates it, so, so much.

“I’m not going to stop being your friend, dumbass,” he sighs. “What, were you trying to get rid of me with that story?”

Oikawa’s face expresses shock for a moment. “Wha… No.”

“Then stop telling me what to think and listen to me.”

“But, Iwa-chan—”

“They’re wrong,” he says, simply. “Your parents, and all those other fuckers. They’re… they’re stupid, okay? They’re dumbasses, is what they are. Everyone’s got baggage. Look at me; you think I want to be in this dumbass job? I get ulcers and I’m barely thirty, and stress migraines, and I have to sit at a desk all day, and I drink so much coffee I might as well inject it in with a needle.” He sighs, with the general aura of defeat. “But my old man built this company from the ground and I’m his only son. Someone’s gotta continue the legacy.”

Oikawa looks stunned down to the bone.

“Listening to dumbasses makes you a dumbass yourself,” Iwaizumi says, as if he’s speaking the wisest of words. “Those other people made their choice and I made mine. I’m gonna make it to level one-hundred. Okay?”

Oikawa doesn’t immediately respond, and the rim of his cap serves as a perfect cover to hide the emotions on his face. The silence drags on. But he eventually breaks it.

“…Iwa-chan,” he mumbles, quietly.

“Yeah.”

There’s a loud sniffle. “Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi smiles up at him, hoping it looks soothing rather than he’s planning a grizzly murder, which he’s been told once before. He’s not sure it has the intended effect, but Oikawa still laughs when he sees it, watery but feather light, and that’s enough. This is enough.

“No, but, Iwa-chan.” He shakes his head, still sniffling. “You really have a terrible vocabulary for a CEO. This company is going to burn down.”

“—my god, I hate you so much.”

-

-

The day Iwaizumi makes it to level one-hundred, Oikawa is in his office, planted on top of his desk, using his very important work phone to place a takeout order for their lunch.

Iwaizumi is glowering up at him, but it’s entirely for show. He’s got one hand rubbing gentle circles on Oikawa’s bad knee; it had pained him that morning, and despite insisting he was now fine, he had used it to his advantage to get out of changing the office’s flickering light bulb. Iwaizumi had changed it himself, while Oikawa sat in his desk chair and admired his forearms at work.

“Have you thought about becoming a maintenance man, Iwa-chan?” he asks, grinning. “You have the right kind of chops and I could use a guy like you on my team.”

Iwaizumi barks a laugh. “You know, I’ve been thinking of leaving my current job. I’ll turn in my resignation tomorrow and then maybe the great Oikawa will hire me.”

“Wait, no.” Oikawa shakes his head, frowning. “You can’t stop being a CEO. It’s sexy.”

“S-Stupid.” His ears rage red. “Don’t say stuff like…”

“Why not? I mean it.” He grins, pretty and real. “It’s really sexy when you pull out your company credit card at bars. And when you tell your secretary she can go for lunch every time I come around, so maybe you’ll finally have the courage to make a move.”

“Wha—! You!” The red engulfs his entire face this time, because Oikawa noticed. He tries to wheel his chair back, completely beaten down, but Oikawa grips his wrists and keeps him near.

“What kind of things were you imagining we could do in here, Iwa-chan?” he sings, drawing his face ever closer. He does that thing he knows Iwaizumi likes, when he gets too close and fans his lashes.

Iwaizumi glares up at him, but it’s weak. “You’re fired.”

Oikawa laughs against his mouth.

[kuriquinn]

Underneath the Underneath [1/?]

Summary: As observant as he is, it take Kakashi years before he realises he's in an actual, adult relationship.

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. You will be forced to juggle geese until you drop dead should you be found plagiarizing.

Warning: Spoilers for pretty much everything up to Chapter 699.

Canon-Compliance: As close to canon as fanfiction can possibly be. With a few personal additions :P Takes place during Part I, Part II and the Blank Period.

Fanon-Compliance: Takes place several years before An Inch of Gold and Unplanned.

AN: OC alert! There is an OC in this story! Ohmygosh! Okay, so I have had a lot of interest in my OC, Manako, over the past little while, and I got a few requests here, on AO3 and on tumblr to start showing her relationship with Kakashi a little more. I had been meaning to wait until once I finished with all my SasuSaku headcanon stuff, but then I thought, why not write it now? Kakashi and Manako's relationship happens entirely off-screen so as not to interfere or impose on the canon, so I can write a few pieces every now and then for those of you who are curious. I hope you enjoy!

Author’s Note2: In case anyone was not aware of this (and I’ve mentioned it several times), Kakashi and Manako are about 9-10 years apart in age. They meet several years before the Naruto series begins and slowly build a friendship. Despite the fact that this is a universe with different age appropriate behaviours and expectations than our own (for crying out loud, they have twelve year old kids fight to the death and massacre their families), and that for the vast majority of human history age differences and relationships at younger ages have always exists, with or without consent, I have gone out of my way to ensure that nothing physical or intimate happens between the two until Manako is 18 years old (legal voting age in Japan, in many place in Japan, legal age of consent as per Tokyo’s Youth Protection Law). There has been an ongoing trend across many fandoms lately to demonize any relationship with a large age-gap or where one partner is a teenager on the cusp of being legal. Interestingly enough, these same people have no problem with a 17-year-old girl being stalked by a 100-year-old vampire just because he looks like a 17-year-old boy. Go figure.

In laymen’s terms, if you’re one of those holier-than-thou, morality-police, purity-wank douchenozzles that think authors should censor their work to protect your delicate sensibilities from being exposed to stuff that happens in real life…kindly step out of my section of the sandbox and go play elsewhere.

This is the politest I get about it.

“Ah! Kakashi, my venerable rival!” Maito Gai declares with his usual pomp, pointing one finger straight in front of him, while his other hand remains hidden behind his back. “Today is the day when we settle our longstanding, noble contest!”

Kakashi raises his single visible eyebrow at the digit two inches from his nose. “Is that so?”

“Yes! You see, as I was enjoying my balanced and revitalising morning repast, I heard a foreigner mention a competition from their land! The honourable and youthful pursuit of juggling geese!”

From behind his back, Gai produces a tiny gosling that blinks up at Kakashi and honks in puzzlement.

Kakashi returns that blink. Behind him, he hears Kurenai and Asuma stifle chuckles.

“That’s a goose,” he says eventually.

“Well-spotted, you keen-eyed animal, you!”

Kakashi counts to three in his head, and then points out in as reasonable a voice as he can manage, “Isn’t juggling geese a little cruel?”

“Nonsense! Our Konoha poultry is the hardiest of the land!”

That’s not what I…what even…?

There are so many logical, well-thought out arguments against this, and yet Kakashi knows from experience none of them will suffice. And so, he pounces on Gai’s ridiculousness in the hopes he can dissuade him for once.

“If the purpose is to juggle geese, shouldn’t there be more than one?”

Gai’s elated expressions holds for several seconds longer, and then his shoulders slump and he glares into the distance.

“Damn you, Kakashi, with your cool logic!”

Well, that was a narrowly avoided spot of—

“Fear not! I will return with a gaggle of goslings for us to test our juggling acumen!”

And he speeds off, leaving Kakashi holding the goose.

“Well…” Asuma begins.

“That’s certainly an interesting way to begin the morning,” Kurenai adds.

Gai hurries back, snatches the confused bird, and disappears again. Kurenai shakes her head. “Is it just me or does he get more high-spirited every day?”

“It’s not just you,” Asuma assures her. “The man could tire out the gods…”

Kakashi sighs and glances at the sky; the sun isn’t even at its zenith yet.

This is not how his routine is supposed to go.

Not that he ever consciously planned to have something as mundane as a routine. As a general rule, shinobi avoid having those, being that they are trained to expect the unexpected. However, over the years since he moved up the ranks in Konoha, a certain procedure has emerged nonetheless.

Every morning he rises before dawn and visits the cemetery, standing before the Memorial Stone to pay respect to his fallen comrades. Depending on his mood he may simply spare them a few words, or perhaps he’ll spend an hour or two in silent remembrance of Obito, Rin and Minato-sensei. Afterward, he heads to Hokage Tower to see if there’s anything Lord Third intends him to do.

It’s been almost a year since the Hokage removed him from active duty with ANBU, as well as mandatory therapy and instruction to readapt his teaching methods for genin. Eventually he will be assigned his first genin squad, but for now he’s simply on the village duty roster. Still, the missions Lord Third assigns him are always for the best of the village.

In any case, he has a lot more recreational time than he ever did before. Privately he thinks the old man is hoping he’ll use these newfound free periods to socialise more, but at this point in his life, Kakashi isn’t keen on seeking out friendship. As a child he didn’t like the idea of mingling with other people, and as an adult he is even more socially hesitant.

It’s not exactly easy to make friends when every person you’ve ever cared about died and everyone else holds you responsible for it.

Still, in spite of his reluctance, he has forged some connections within the village.

First and foremost, there’s Gai, whose presence in his life was insisted upon by their respective fathers. By now, the taijutsu master is so much of a habit for Kakashi that he’s not quite sure what he’d do without him. No day is complete without one of Gai’s ridiculous competitions, though Kakashi tries to avoid them until the evening for simple conservation of energy. 

In the past few years, he’s also found himself in the company of Asuma more and more often. Kakashi is pretty sure the man has been ordered by his father to keep an eye on him, which would be annoying if Asuma were less interesting. The Hokage’s son is well-learned and well-travelled, and his stories fill the silences that would otherwise be awkward.

Then there’s Kurenai, who goes wherever Asuma does these days, and Yugao. She’s the only one of his former ANBU squad that he speaks to with anything resembling regularity, if only because she’s been going on fewer mission since she and Hayate started spending more time together. Tenzō, when he isn’t off on missions, will invite Kakashi for a drink or a meal (and then they both spend the evening trying to nonchalantly trick the other into paying for it).

He tries not to think of Itachi Uchiha at all.

“Are you actually going to juggle geese?” Kurenai asks, her mouth quirking upwards at Kakashi.

Asuma chuckles again. “That sounds like it would be messy…”

“Maybe I’ll be assigned a mission and be able to avoid him,” Kakashi groans.

“I don’t know – it looks like he’s coming back,” Kurenai points out, staring out into the distance.

Kakashi doesn’t need to be told twice.

Without really looking, he dives through the door of the nearest shop, just in time to avoid Gai’s triumphant return – now balancing half a dozen geese in his arms.

Peeking through the corner of the nearby window, he watches as Gai—upon realising Kakashi is nowhere to be found—begins to demonstrate exactly how one juggles geese to a bemused Kurenai and Asuma.

Kakashi sighs and slumps down, pressing his head against the wall. It’s going to be a while before he can slip away. Maybe there’s a back entrance somewhere—

“Unless you’re looking for a way to blow shit up, you shouldn’t be here,” a bored voice says from somewhere behind him. “My boss doesn’t like loitering.”

Kakashi looks up, noticing in the process that his chosen hide-out is one of the many surplus and supply stores in the village. The smell of ink, paper and gunpowder fill the air, and when he takes notices of the walls he sees row upon row of specialty parchment—the kind for explosive tags. He glances across the sales floor, for the first time taking note of the girl reading a book behind the check-out counter. She’s familiar to him, although in the second-hand kind of way that everyone in a small village is familiar, so it only takes a moment to place her.

Twins are rare in such a small village, and Manako Inuzuka is identical to her sister Hana. Brunette and dark eyed, with a solid-looking medium frame and a languid, unselfconscious bearing he doesn’t see in a lot of girls her age. She lacks the distinctive Inuzuka facial markings, which is odd considering she’s the child of the leader, but somehow she manages to look just as fierce.

Kakashi occasionally has business with Hana—sometimes his ninja hounds require urgent medical care, and she’s set to take over the village’s veterinary practice—but he has never spoken to Manako beyond a few random, forgettable encounters. He doesn’t expect this one to be any different.

Except, then his attention falls on the book she’s reading.

The book which happens to be the next installment of his favourite series.

The one he has been desperately waiting on for the last six months.

“That’s the latest Icha Icha novel,” he says.

“It is.”

“It’s not even supposed to be out for another month.”

“And yet, here it is,” Manako replies, turning a page.

“How did you get your hands on this?”

“I know a guy.”

He begins to approach the counter. “Can I know a guy?”

“That depends—are you into bondage?”

Kakashi does a bit of a double-take at this, opening his mouth and then closing it again as he studies her. She and Hana were in Itachi’s year, which means she can’t be more than fifteen or sixteen years old.

She has to be messing with him.

Even so, he’s not entirely sure what to say to that.  At his silence, she finally looks up, considering him with a critical eye.

“Oh. You’re him,” she says, and Kakashi waits for the usual qualifier—he knows the things people whisper about him: cold-blooded, friend-killer, traitor’s son. But then she adds, “You’re Pakkun’s pet.”

“Pet?” he echoes, surprised and disbelieving.

“Sorry. That’s how the dogs talk,” she says, though she doesn’t sound or look very sorry, turning her attention back to her book in a clear dismissal. “I mean to say you’re his human.”

He’s not sure that’s much better and gets the sense that she’s mocking him.

“Your sister is a lot more polite than you,” he says, which sounds immature and over-simplistic, but he’s still a bit caught off balance and doesn’t know what else to say.

She doesn’t seem ruffled by the comparison at all.

“So I’m told.”

Again, her words drip with dismissal, and Kakashi is inclined to take the hint. He turns back toward the shop entrance.

Except –

He turns around. “Out of curiosity—”

“No.”

He frowns. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“You’re not getting my book.”

“I’d pay you for it.”

“But then it would not longer be my book,” she says, and then glances up, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I’m possessive and materialistic like that.”

Kakashi resists the urge to pout, but only because he is a grown-ass man and a jōnin and feared by half the shinobi world.

“Surely there’s some arrangement we can come to?” he suggests, trying to sound smooth and casual and not like a slavering fanboy.

“You’re that desperate for cheesy romance and long drawn-out sex?” she raises an eyebrow at him, and he feels his cheeks warm beneath his mask because does she have to be that blunt about it?!

“Well what’s your excuse for reading it?”

“I have two X-chromosomes,” she retorts, and then crosses her arms. “And didn’t you hear? Long. Drawn-out. Sex.”

His cheeks flooding with even more colour.

“Should you really be reading that sort of thing?” he asks, a little tightly. “It’s not exactly…”

“Oh, but if it was a teenaged boy it would be alright?” she counters. “Talk about double standards…”

“I never said—”

“I have just as much right to read it as you,” she shoots back. “And if you think about it, it’s kind of creepier when it’s an old guy like you doing it.”

“…Old?”  Kakashi demands, voice cracking a little in astonishment.

“Well, with that hair of yours,” she shrugs. “Easy mistake to make.” He stares at her in reply, and she smirks. “See? It’s not nice to generalize about someone’s age.”

Kakashi decide right then that it’s time to leave.

Juggling geese is suddenly a much less challenging prospect than any more absurdist conversation with this…person. He doesn’t even ask about the back entrance, and is almost on the point of opening the door again when—

“I guess I could make you a deal.”

Kakashi pauses, the sudden image of himself reading his beloved, long-book at the end of a tiring day. It’s been so long…

“I’m listening,” Kakashi says, turning back.

“I need someone to field-test my specialty explosive tags,” she tells him. “But Old Man Third won’t let me hire a genin squad. Something about legal issues or child protection or whatever.” She makes a dismissive hand gesture. “None of the chūnin are allowed to, either, ever since the last time some moron didn’t read the labels and blew off a testicle.” Kakashi’s cheeks rapidly lose all earlier warmth. “And most jōnin are pretentious pricks that think their missions are more important than functioning equipment, so...”

Kakashi’s eye twitches. “Noted.”

“But I’ve heard you’re moderately intelligent, and apparently, you’re fast too, so here’s what I want—you come by every so often and try out my specialty tags, then come give me feedback, and I’ll hook you up with this book.” Kakashi is about to say that seems like an awful lot of work for one book, and then she adds, “And any others that my contact sets me up with.”

“You’re making literature seem a lot more clandestine than it is,” he accuses.

“Not all of us are elite ninjas. Some of us have to make our fun where we can,” she replies. “Are you in or out?”

Kakashi turns the offer over in his head.

The whole thing sounds an awful lot like responsibility, or even worse, accountability, and unless the well-being of the village is at stake, he tends to avoid both.

However, on the other hand, he’s heard from others that Manako’s incendiary devices are top quality, and that she doesn’t limit her work to simple explosives. Which could prove useful in situations where he doesn’t feel like expending effort.

And he really wants to read the book.

It’s telling that the only considerations he have pertain to his own laziness and guilty reading pleasures.

“Alright, it’s a deal,” he says.

“Good,” she agrees, nodding in a businesslike fashion. “But you’re still waiting until after I finish reading it.”

Which causes Kakashi’s shoulders to slump because how did he not see that coming. He can predict the moves of enemy ninja before they even consider making them, and this girl outmaneuvered him with a single sentence.

She smirks at him, black eyes dancing. “Of course, if I didn’t have to cut my break short lugging boxes around and doing actual work, I could probably finish this in the next hour…”

He shoots her an unimpressed look.

“Do you actually think I’m that desperate?”

“I think you just promised to carry out potentially dangerous field testing that could possible get you blown up just to get a chance to read the book. Damn straight I think you’re desperate,” she declares, black eyes dancing. “So either you’re really bored with your life, or really weird.”

She looks him over again, and he gets the sense that this time she is actually studying him, because her eyes linger on his mask.

“Weird,” she concludes, and nods to herself. “Which is good. We’ll be friends.” She then closes the book, holding the place with one finger and pokes another in his face. “But no sex, okay? I don’t want to deal with sad puppy-dog eyes when I break your heart.”

He can’t help his jaw dropping at either implication.

“Now get to work. There are crates of blank scrolls in the back that need to be stocked up here,” she says, going back to her reading. “And if you don’t do a good job, I’m calling out spoilers.”

Which is how Kakashi Hatake, elite jōnin of the Hidden Leaf, finds himself stocking shelves for the next two hours, wondering what exactly he has gotten himself into.

つづく

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated, and very motivating—and if you enjoy my writing, check out my original stories as they are posted on patreon!

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