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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years

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Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 4)

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

CHAPTER 3

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Ciri wanted chicken and so she gets one. Y/N needed warmth amongst the cold weather in the Forest of Kaedwan and she'd received more than a warmth for her body as it traveled straight to her heart; warming her soul. Even getting some sort of comfort from the witcher himself. Other than that, Geralt had a lead on where the sorceress was. Though, right now he needed her to help you Plus, he also had other options other than that.

Warnings: FULL OF Y/N AND GERALT FLUFF. ❤ Geralt is an asshole at first because of certain reasons. 😂 Blood and animal killing in this one. Smiling, soft Geralt, tho still having that stoic expression of his of course. Gotta write him completely in character. 😂 Also, a Hirikka is here and will be on the next chapter!

Words: 3,900+

A/N: There's a part 2 for this chapter. It'll be a chapter 4.1 but will be posted after 2-3 days. ^u^ I couldn't put them together because it'll be 8-9k words long. 😅😂 Sorry, if I write long ass chapters and the pace is still slow. I need to develop their characters, relationship and such. The places said here are from the game however it isn’t accurate and I just made my own direction. Like how I try to make my life go in the right path but failing and actually walking on the wrong path. LMAO. Also, I’m making a masterlist for WOTN! 🤗

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

Disclaimer: PNG's used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren't from moi as well.

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

"Do you not...have cars, Geralt? Or motorcycles?"

You've panted like you were having a marathon, palms falling on your knees as you took a breather; seeing a small cottage on the far end of the shallow path in the forest.

It was a smaller house that had a fence with chickens, goats and pigs segregated by kind. The home was a sandy shade of yellow and a slip of brown which was also made just like how Geralt's have been.

No answer was given to you other than how he was hauling Roach back to look at you who were walking along side with him; not bothering to even ask you for a ride. It's not like you were hoping he would. Based on the change of mood he'd gotten, you were sure he won't lend you his horse to lessen your difficulty in traveling bare foot.

You've already asked what his horse's name was. He simply answered with the word 'Roach', allowing you to touch the horse as she neighed. Much to someone's dismay; specifically a bard who happened to saw the whole interaction, left a mutter to himself.

"Why does the midget get to touch Roach in haste and I don't?!" Jaskier muttered rather in disbelief. The Witcher fixing his black, hooded wool cape attached to his shoulders, giving him a subtle hum with the gravel of his voice.

Jaskier huffed for the third time, hands on his hips as he watched the scene before him with incredulity in his baby blue peepers. You happily caressed her crest as Geralt fixed things on the leather bag attached to the horse's hip.

"Geralt---" Jaskier started but was cut off with a insouciant scold from the man himself, "Don't call her midget," he cut him off without even paying him attention. Jaskier gave a nod; a grin molding his face leading to mischief at the chide given.

Jaskier took a step close and planned to give Roach's crest a caress but his stern friend was fast enough to cease his wishes, "Still, don't touch roach," Geralt quickly mumbled as he felt Jaskier's plan on touching his horse. The bard slyly grabbed onto his own hair, brushing them through his locks like he wasn't about to pet Roach. Geralt closed the bag with a soft click, giving him the side-eye; voice firm and full of derision, "I don't want you singing a song about my horse in the near future,"

Which is why you were walking on your own now with Geralt's good will on making you handle the death march rather like a happy child.

It was probably okay, you thought at the back of your mind. Walking, that is. Exercising in the morning was great, except that if it weren't too chilly unlike him who have gotten a full armor and gear out of his closet like he'd gone out of a magazine or animè. The sword on his back even giving you shivers, but a different kind because of how tough looking he had as his exterior.

You shook your head as he just looked back at you. That look of his that was filled of inquiry; asking you what you were saying in the back of your mind. A huff of pure exhaustion was given to The Witcher before you sauntered forward, leaving the man eyeing you with sass and a high raise of his bushy brow.

Geralt followed through along with Roach as he pulled her reins, slowly galloping as he analyzed your form from behind. His buttoned up tunic that reached the ends of your thighs with a weird kind of foot ware that certainly doesn't help with the crispy, brisk temperature of the forest.

Geralt gravelly sighed, watching you struggle with scrubbing your legs together as you pathetically strolled forward and onto the place that he'd pointed. He was too engrossed at seeing you struggle when he has heard a slight twig breaking from afar, catching his senses and making him look to where it came from.

"Midget," The Witcher tried calling you with that deep voice of his in the middle of the woods. Though, to no avail; you never heard him coherently and continued your stroll through the forest; hollering a message without even looking back because of the mere exhaustion.

"You're too slow, Geralt, like an old man! I'm exhausted!"

He breathed out his vexation of your naivety that you weren't strolling in your world. You were walking in theirs and having your own little dimension while you walk by yourself can be pretty dangerous.

Geralt heard the crack of another wood. It was from behind a large hickory tree. He doubtfully grabbed onto the handle of his sword wrapped behind him; halfway unsheathing the sword and contemplating if he needed to jump off his horse when suddenly a medium sized Hirikka came into his view, maybe an inch shorter than you. Those eyes that were doe, just like yours whenever you wanted something and eventually getting it from him.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Geralt asked the Hirrika. The tone in his voice softer and in awe. He'd rummaged through his bag without taking his Aurum, blazing eyes away from the harmless creature, feeling an apple inside his bag and threw it as the Hirikka caught it with its own two paws.

"Don't get yourself killed out there,"

Thus, he began to follow you as fast as possible before you even get yourself harmed from any monsters. When he'd seen you leaning on the fences of Cuthberth's home, he didn't know he has been holding a breath for as long as he could remember without seeing the sight of you.

You were making him insane for not even waiting for him and thinking what would've attacked you in the forest of Kaedwan.

Cuthbert was feeding the chickens inside their palisades. His friend thought you were lost but you've said that you came for the purpose of buying chickens with a man. He was friendly enough to give you chitter-chatter while waiting for Geralt to follow you from behind. It took minutes before he arrived with a complete set of body parts; so the worry of him being killed off by a monster was thrown in the dumps.

As he rode his horse closer, you've had the chance to admire the beauty edging to be seen. You were in awe as his mere self was enough to get you ogling at the man treading near. Never seeing such a man like that who wore armors in his everyday life except from seeing Cosplayers in certain conventions that seemed so fake rather than Geralt who felt real. Too real that you were pondering if he was just a mere hallucination or a fantasy of yours.

He was definitely eye-candy. Dashing. Ravishing. Beyond gorgeous.

Cuthbert saw them coming and so, his expression turned wild with a grin. His dirty fingers scratching his bald head in excitement as he jogged out of the fences with a giddy self. "Oi! You didn't tell me it's the infamous Geralt of Rivia, elfin!"

Famous. He's famous? you thought to yourself before keeping your eyes away from the witcher who had already jumped down his horse and gave you a look; asking what was wrong because you were staring like there was a problem at hand.

You didn't need to tell him that your heart was actually the problem. It was always skipping a beat whenever he'd pay a glimpse to stare at your eyes.

A soft clear of your throat, your fist covering your mouth as you do and you eyed Cuthbert inquisitively, "Is he famous? Famous for what? Is he an actor? Model? The king of this kingdom or something?"

Cuthbert patted his dirty hands on his soiled apron full of flour, a hand on his hip while the other reaches out for Geralt's powerful looking shoulder in attempt to give him a pat. The animal butcher's forest green eyes coruscant of fervor. Geralt's initial response was to give him a smile back with the man's excitement in seeing him again, "This lad's a something! Kills all types of beasts, vampires, dragons, huge kikimores---"

You coughed out loud, making them snap their heads from where you stood. Cuthbert's words sounded too surprising to be true. As much as you remembered, vampires only existed in the movies and games; not in the real life survival of people. His words caught you off-guard, "Vamp--vampires? There's vampires here, Cuthbert? Even dragons?"

Geralt looked at you, utmost jaded. The way your voice stuttered alerted him that you were scared or probably still unfamiliar--still illiterate of their world since he was doubting to give you all the information ahead if you abruptly disappear out-of-nowhere with the knowledge of the continent; their world. It would be very much dangerous for it to be compromised especially that you had the experience in teleporting to their dimension.

Cuthbert gave a loud laugh, not believing the strangeness of your words, "You're actin' like yer’ never been here before! I thought yer’ were livin' with the Witcher?! You should ask the white wolf, here! He's killed hundreds! Maybe even thousands!"

You've fluttered your eyes closed, trying to calm yourself from running off the forest and getting yourself killed just like the horror movies you've watched. You've called them idiots, now wasn't the time to call yourself one as well.

Though, you were completely unaware of Geralt's gaze which consist an ample amount of worry. You continued your rambles in a hushed whisper, "I'm not just in a freakin' game that have monsters, but even a live-action movie of Twilight. This is great, real great."

The Witcher clenched his teeth, gradually turning his body to you without moving his soles. His forehead creasing as he could feel your heart beat quickening, "Are there also wolves? Big bad wolves here?" your voiced lowering a miniscule, sounding diminutive.

His friend gave off a shrug, his mouth forming a thin line when he did so as he scratched his whitened beard, "We may never know what this world can bring, Elfin! It always brings out the worst of everythin'!"

At the confident mention of that, you've felt your chest tightening with the knowledge of having vampires and dragons around. What if you died in their world? Would you also be dead in earth? Geralt licked his Crimson lips, staring down at you with utmost comfort that he could give. Yet, he failed at that with how stoic his expressions can get. Though, his eyes were exempted because his feelings can be read through those stern, Aurum eyes.

Midway, he'd lift his burly armor-coated arms to plan and give your back a caress to calm you down; but he was immediate enough to drop it down considering that maybe even a touch to the hand would calm you because he'd seen it trembled. If only he was thoroughly direct towards you; he would in a heart beat.

"Don't panic, Midget." The roughness of his voice; that definite amount of timbre. It was the only word you've heard from him. Short but straightforward. Even so, still the only thing that calmed you down through out all your panic attacks back in earth and even in their world.

Cuthbert has seen Geralt's attempt of comfort; even seeing his eyes shift in a way that nobody else could. He had a smirk on his face, scrubbing that beard he was owning, "Who is she, Witcha'? Another one of those clingy harlots of yours?"

Geralt turned his head to see Cuthbert smirking. The way his eyes changed into a lethargic faze meant that the witcher was mantling the emotions he was having or probably having no idea that he was feeling it yet; in denial of the state he was in.

"---Or the trouble and strife?"

The witcher knew what he meant and decided to let those words fall out of his ear to the other. His hands clasping together on his front as he straightened his back, cocking his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes on the latter, "We need...chickens," Cuthbert raised his eyebrows in astonishment, "You cook now, witcher?"

No words were said besides from a satisfied hum as the chickens clucked before the butcher of animals. The panic died down because of Geralt's voice and you've finally had the will to insert yourself in the conversation.

"I do!" you excitedly exclaimed, stepping a foot closer to Geralt and the witcher was aware of it, giving you the side-eye, "---also, do you have any spices please?"

Cuthbert nodded in comprehension, sending a playful wink to The Witcher and scrubbing his hands together as he also gave you a rogouish smile, "Oh, that kind. The little woman, Geralt! Literally because this elfin is quite short but fetching nevertheless!" Geralt gave him an apathetic blink of an eye, sighing from the talkativeness of the man.

But, also worth it if he could see those anticipated beams of yours as you stood beside him.

The latter gave out a loud sigh, seeming to be in his head space as he talked his thoughts out loud, "---I remember how Gisela cooks Flamiche for me whenever I go home from me' hunt! Though, that woman seldom does it anymore considering how Bridgely gets her attention a lots!"

Geralt gave him that daunting smile of his; wanting to tell the man to just butcher the heck out of the chickens already as he wanted to get it over with. You gave Cuthbert a wide smile, oblivious of Geralt's taunting gaze back at the man. He suppressed a laugh and nodded to himself; quickly running off to Geralt's wishes.

As the chicken was being slaughtered across the fence, Geralt was thoroughly unaware that you were already sniffing and crying because it was all out in the open and you could see how it was being killed. He watched you look over the fence and inspect Cuthbert cutting its head off and it made you shriek, warm tears falling on the sides of your face while watching how much pity you've given to the chicken.

Geralt did a double-take, eyeing you and where you were staring at and saw how you were crying over a chicken being slaughtered. He wanted to laugh because of how you were being sad over it. However, he decided against so as to not offend you when you were just pouring your heart out in this one.

"I thought...you wanted chickens?" the witcher pondered, leaning away from the fence and facing you instead with that amused glint in his eyes.

You've sniffed hard, patting your nose with his clothes that you were wearing from; the snot wanting to come out of its cave. You gazed up at him; eyes damp and reddish from the cries. "I did, Geralt! But not for it to be killed like this!" you hiccuped from all the bawling that has happened, "---It was better to be bought in a supermarket!"

The way you cry always made a pinch inside Geralt's heart. A kind where he would try and do everything to make it stop because you were annoying but also irresistible.

His lips lifted in a slight beam, looking around the forest before peering down at your sobbing thyself. "There, there," surprisingly, Geralt cooed before you; stopping your weeps short as you gaped at the tall witcher. His chiseled face warped in clear softness and mirth, "---for a bountiful feast requires death in exchange for us to be sated,"

The amazing color of his eyes gleamed more under the sun. You couldn't help but outstare back at him with that stupefied look of utter adoration. You snapped out of your daydream when he was waiting for a witty retort but you've loudly cleared your throat; the heat travelling to your neck. Before it can even reach your face, you turned your head back to look at Cuthbert who was now grinning back at you; holding the headless chicken up for you to see. Its blood dripping down the ground as he mouthed a 'what do you think?' back at you and Geralt to tell you if the size of the chicken was a-okay.

Your face quickly morphed into a wince, another mourn about to come to light when you've felt a warm hand on your shoulder; shooting lightning to your spine as you jumped from the physical touch. Geralt gently turned your body around; away from the panorama of chicken slaughter. The way his lips lifting in a small, soft smile never leaving yet. "Don't look at it,"

A huff was sent to the latter, "I can't! It's making noise!"

"Then cover your ears," Geralt's brow raised in sarcasm. Though, those playful sparkle never dying down. You narrowed your eyes back at him, an annoyed crease of your forehead as you explained and raised your hands back at him. It looked dull and definitely freezing, "But, my hands are shaking from the cold!"

Geralt studied you from head to foot, noting the lack of clothes you were wearing. The smile you've grown to love fell as he sighed, looking away for a moment before a tiresome gaze of his eyes was sent to you. He held onto the string of his jet black hooded cape, unlatching it around his neck as you stared up at him in utmost curiosity.

The softness of his cape fell around your shoulders like a furnace hugging your body; better yet the soul that needed a hug after all you've experienced since the first time you've been in their world. You could feel your heart warming at the gesture of Geralt giving you his dramatic cape; even growing hotter when he was tethering the tie together; intently staring down at your face and feeling his thick, calloused fingers inches before your neck.

Maybe, an egg was worthy of using your face as a frying pan right now.

You consciously looked away from the heat of his stare. Geralt tightened the tie around your neck as you've felt the heaviness of his cape over your shoulders. He drew he fingers away from your neck, slanting his head as he never cut the gaze he had; rather than you who'd looked away because you were...blushing.

"Better?" His voice graveled, a small beam carving his face. You've reluctantly gawked back at him, giving him a reserved nod. The way you were acting looked entirely stupid, your eyes looking like those googly ones used as stickers back in your desk as you tried avoiding the intensity of his stare. You bit the insides of your cheeks, deciding to leave the exhilaration out in the back as you had the courage to look at him, "Better!---Never better, Ge-Geralt!" Regardless of the brave act, you embarrassingly stammered and cited his name wrongly with a shameful 'J', "I mean, Geralt. Geralt with a G!" you back paddled in an instant, scratching your temples as you avoided his eyes and tried to fan your face.

The witcher looked askance, he could hear your heart beat running miles after miles. Geralt pondered why and what was making it pump fast when you weren't even having your panic attacks.

He crossed his hefty arms, looking at you skeptically but with a stupefying smile on his face, "Are you going to stop being a bairn now?"

You initially stopped fanning your face, narrowing your eyes back at him; completely confused, "What's a bairn?" he sighed and glanced at the sky, shaking his head with a beam that fell as quick as you've seen it when Geralt heard Cuthbert walking to where you were and glanced at the acquaintance.

The dead chicken was tied close to the witcher's bag located on the hip of his horse. You were busy staring at the four pieces of aftershafted chickens dangling on Roach's side with that sympathetic glaze of your eyes but actually talking at the back of your mind that its death would be worth it because you cook well and he'll taste good.

Cuthbert scrutinized your nodding form. A strange expression written on his face that tells that he was seeing the oddity that you were nodding at the chickens like you were talking to them.

The animal butcher was running his blabber mouth about how his chickens were also missing every other day. Sometimes his pigs or goats that made Geralt narrow his eyes from his share of message; his nose slightly scrunching from the admission of Cuthbert with his missing animals.

He didn't need to know that some were kind of caught by Geralt's hands. Maybe at least ten chickens, three pigs and two goats. Even so, slaughtered by the witcher himself.

The sneaky witcher couldn't catch a chicken as of the moment because he always does it at night. Catching a chicken from other people's fence in the morning can be risky and definitely tricky.

"About...the sorceress," Geralt trailed off, grabbing Cuthbert's attention away from you before he could even think you didn't belong to their world and guessed about his stealing escapades. He spun his head to look at Geralt, thoroughly distracted from how he called him out, "---you still hangin' onto that sorceress you had, witcher?"

"No...It's....kind of complicated," the latter speculated with a shake of his head.

Cuthbert nodded in understanding, scratching the nape of his neck as he seem to ponder, "The tittle-tattles around the village says that the sorceress is in a burgh called 'crow's perch' in the east of Vizima," pause. "It's a long journey out there! Lots'a beasts to encounter before it!" he roughly warned.

The Witcher only hummed in response; deep in thought as he calculated how long will it take to get there after a week when he was done with any favors for the villagers of Kaedwan and for some of his options on how to get you home.

His first choice was the Djinn. Now, he just needed to find one. Again. But, not for the sole purpose of asking peace and a long nap but to help you.

Geralt fished out the black pouch he kept on his sides, reaching out to give it to Cuthbert across the fence. The animal butcher shook his head to decline the money, "No, I don't need yer' coins." he simply admitted with a scoff, "You've helped us a lot; for me to be accepting some kind of repayment from the white wolf himself---,"

"----You deserve a thank you for all your help, Witcher." Cuthbert continued with a grateful tone.

Thus, this was the first time that he'd been acknowledged by his help in slaying monsters and terrifying creatures. The man himself didn't know how pleasing it was to hear those words from a mere human and from a person he'd help back in the years. Even so, seeing those smiles you've given him when you were excited to cook the damn chicken didn't seem so satisfying and delightful to look at; until now..

MORE FLUFF ON CHAPTER 4.1! Heehee! THANK YOU FOR THE LOVE, TATER TOTS! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO LOVES GERALT CALLING Y/N, MIDGET?

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @missjenniferb (I couldn’t tag you AGAIN bud! A different blog was popping out of the recommendation and it wasn’t your blog. Though, I’ll try again on the next update! Don’t worry! Tumblr is being DUMBLR RN. I’M MAD) @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural

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nonbaznary · 3 years

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Carry On Countdown - Day 10: Crossover

(Not posting on AO3)

Keep reading on Tumblr below the cut!

Words: 2401

I’m a bit late with other prompts BUT for today, I edited a Cemetery Boys scene (no spoilers, really, it’s in the beginning and the plot/summary of the book basically gives this scene away), because I couldn’t help but see similarities about Snowbaz and Yadrian, both canon and headcanon. Anyways, I love my transmasc awkward heroes and their undead nobinary gay boyfriends who may seem scary but are total sweethearts. I also changed some elements of the original story so it sounded more like Carry On, so it’s kind of a Cemetery Boys remix, or something. Anyways LOL happy COC day 10!! Hope y’all like this <3 Also thank you Aiden Thomas your gays gave new meaning to my life

Cemetery Boys AU

Simon could feel energy swarming below him.

“Do you feel that, too?” Penelope asked.

“Yeah. It’s way stronger in here.” he said. Whatever spirit that led them here was close.

Simon took a step back, and his shoe slipped. He’d stepped on a piece of cloth.

Penny moved in. “What’s that?”

“I think it’s a scarf.” Simon muttered, pointing his lantern to it. The scarf was pale blue. He bent down and carefully picked it up. As soon as his fingers made contact with the fabric, a shiver ran through his body. Electricity flooded through his veins, and he took a sharp breath. Something pulsed under his feet, synchronized with his own heartbeat.

“I think- It’s a tether.” he said, a spike of adrenaline making him feel light-headed.

When a spirit attached itself to a tether, they had to stay near it. That was why haunted houses existed, but not many cities haunted by a single ghost – spirits couldn’t venture far from their tethers. And mages could only release them and help them pass peacefully to their eternal rest once they were free of their earthly bindings.

Simon had never actually held a spirit’s tether before. They were incredibly powerful. Some of the mages claimed that mishandling a spirit’s tether would get you cursed. But Simon had never heard of anyone actually getting possessed, and he had no intention of disrespecting this tether.

“But it’s not Ebb’s. She didn’t own any silk blue scarfs, that I’m sure of.” Penelope said, reaching out as if to touch it before thinking better.

“It could be Ebb’s.” Simon tried to reason, his hope of finding his friend fighting against logic. He squeezed the scarf in his hand. Warmth spread through his palm and up his arm. He turned to Penny with a smile. “There’s only one way to find out.”

Penelope gave him a skeptical look, and Simon shrugged.

“I have to try – What if Ebb’s spirit got tethered to this instead of her staff?” he said, twisting the scarf between his fingers.

“It could be attached to someone who’s gone malefic.” Penelope said, casting a pointed look around the dilapidated church.

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve got a sword now, innit?” Simon said. Penny raised her eyebrows, but then grinned.

“All right, Greatest Mage, work your magic.”

The rush of excitement made Simon feel giddy as he knelt.

He held his hand over his hip, calling for the Sword of Mages. "In justice. In courage. In defense of the weak. In the face of the mighty. Through magic and wisdom and good." The hilt materializes in his grip, and he swings the sword up to his shoulder. Maybe it was the feel of the blade in his hand or the magic he knew flowed through his veins, but Simon felt recklessly brave.

He stood up again and tried to take a deep breath, but he was too excited, practically buzzing. His palms were sweaty. He looked over to Penelope, who gave him an enthusiastic and encouraging nod.

Simon had seen his mentor, Davy, summon spirits before. It wasn’t exactly general knowledge for mages, but he knew what to do and how to do it. It was one of the few incantations that Simon believed he could get right, like with the Sword of Mages, because those weren’t like other spells. They didn’t come so easily to other mages as regular incantations did. Magic words are tricky, and Simon had never been good with words. You have to have a good vocabulary to do magic. You have to be able to think on your feet and be brave enough to speak up. And you have to actually understand what you’re saying, how the words translate into magic.

None of that came naturally to Simon. And his magic... He was powerful, he knew that, but his magic behaved differently than everyone else’s. His magic was immediate and literal. Sometimes, it acted when he didn’t even mean to make it do anything. It just… happened.

And that was exactly what he needed right now.

He felt the magic inside him, strong and infinite. He called it to the surface, his skin suddenly warmer, and held out his arm, the scarf looped around his hand. Simon cleared his throat, trying to breathe around the lump that had formed.

“I summon you, spirit!”

For a terrifying second, nothing happened. Then, an explosion of heat and golden light. Simon sprang back, choking on the smoke.

There was a person in front of him, doubled over their hand and knees, clutching their chest.

Simon could hardly believe his eyes. “It worked!”

The spirit’s face was screwed up tight in a grimace, their fingers knotted into the material of his shirt, a beautiful floral, white with blue and purple flowers and fat striped bumblebees.

“That’s not Ebb.” Penelope tried to whisper, but she’d never had a very good inside voice.

Simon groaned and dragged a hand over his face. On the bright side, he had actually summoned a real-life spirit

On the not-so-bright side, he had summoned the wrong one.

“Obviously.” Simon growled back, unable to look away from the spirit as they gasped for breath, the muscles in their neck straining. They had that translucent quality around the edges, like all spirits, Their eyes swung to Simon and Penny, with a handsome but very angry face, their grimace now more of a sneer.

“Well, at least it’s not a malefic spirit?” Penny offered.

The person staggered to their feet, upright but unsteady. “Who the hell are you?”, they snarled, dark grey eyes blazing, sharp as obsidian.

“Uhh” was Simon’s unhelpful reply, suddenly back to being capable of forming a coherent sentence.

“Where am I?” the person’s voice coming out of them in a tight roar, head tilting back as they took in their surroundings. “Am I in a church?” their attention swung back to Simon and Penelope with an accusing glare. “Who let me in a church?”

Familiarity prickled at the back of Simon’s mind, racing to place their sharp edges, posh look, and the irritated, cold tone in their voice.

“Uh- well- you see,” Simon stammered, not really sure how to explain their situation, but he wasn’t given the chance to finish. The person’s eyes snagged on the scarf still dangling from Simon’s hand.

“Hey!” Simon saw their anger swell, hunching their shoulders, and propelling them forward. The spirit stomped up to him, fire in their eyes. “That’s mine.”

They reached out to snatch the scarf, but their hand went right through it. They frowned and tried again, and when their hand slid through it a second time, they froze, blinked their eyes, and slowly waved it back and forth.

Their eyes went wide, and they stumbled back. “What the hell is this?” they demanded to know, looking between their hand and the scarf and Simon and Penelope.

“Wow, this is really awkward.” Simon said, scratching at the back of his neck. Penelope seemed less worried.

“Well, there’s no denying you’re an actual mage now.” she said, circling the spirit with keen interest. They scowled at her.

“Who are you, and what are you doing with my scarf?” they demanded, looking to Simon for answers.

“Well, uh, I used it to summon you.” he tried.

The spirit crossed their arms, arching a thick eyebrow.

“Yeah, we thought it might have belonged to Ebb.” What was the gentlest way to tell someone they were dead?

“Ebeneza. Our friend.” Penelope specified.

The spirit didn’t seem at all interested in who Ebb was. “It’s mine.” they insisted with a growl. “It belonged to my mother. It’s got our last name on it see?” their fingers curling in demand.

Simon turned the fabric over to find that a name had indeed been recorded in a tip. He blinked. “Oh.” The delicate cursive letters read PITCH. “Oh.”

The Pitch family was well known, and also magickal. They didn’t do any death-related magic, though, not like Davy or the Bunces – they were magickal authorities. Royalty, aristocrats, leaders. Researchers, linguists. They knew spells like no other magickal families. They were fire magicians, brilliant with fire. But they weren’t involved with action, not like the mages Simon and Penelope grew with. The Pitches didn’t know about death magick, not like them.

Simon knew the Pitch’s heir, Baz Pitch, or rather knew of them. They went to highschool together, and Baz had a bit of a... reputation. They used to be a top student, and when they were roaming the halls it was hard to not notice them. They had the sort of presence that demanded everyone’s attention without needing to ask. They were hard to miss.

Until they got expelled.

“Do you know how you got here?” Simon questioned them. Baz glared.

“No. All I remember is walking down the street with my friends. Then something- someone-” they frowned. “I just remember getting knocked over.” They unconsciously rubbed at the same point on their chest, near their heart. “Then the next thing I knew, I was in a church with you two.”

Three beats passed before Baz’s eyes went wide. “I died, didn’t I?” Simon and Penelope looked at each other. “Am I dead?”

Simon gave a small nod. Baz stumbled back a step, their body wavering in and out of existence for a moment. “Oh, Crowley. My aunt is going to kill me.” They pressed both hands against their face and groaned against their palms.

“Looks like someone already beat her to it.” Penelope pointed out.

“So I’m a spirit now.” Baz scowled, ignoring the girl. They didn’t sound angry or dismayed, just… annoyed. As if this were just an inconvenience. “And you’re also mages, I suppose. So you can send spirits to the afterlife, right?”

“Yes- Well, no-” Simon fumbled, trying to explain himself. “I should be able to- er, I guess- I haven’t done the releasing part yet-”

“Great. So I’m stuck with two shitty witches.”

Annoyance flared in Simon. “Look, this is my first time, okay?” Baz blinked slowly at him, unimpressed. “You- You’re attached to a tether, your scarf. So I just need to destroy the-”

“No, no way!” Baz shook their head. “That’s my mother’s scarf, you are not destroying it.” They tried to snatch it from Simon, but, again, they were left with a fistful of empty air. Penelope chuckled.

“No, just listen-” Simon gripped his blade, raising it.

Baz scoffed, which was not how Simon thought any sane person should react to getting a sword pointed at them.

“What are you going to do, stab me?” Baz’s laughter was flat and sharp. “Already dead, remember?”

“I’m not going to stab you!” No matter how tempting it is, Simon thought. Penelope cut in.

“He can use this to destroy the tie keeping you here.” Baz opened their mouth to argue, but Penny pressed on. “Not the scarf, just the tie anchoring you to the scarf. Then you can go to the afterlife and be at peace, okay?”

Baz smirked. “Yeah, no. He’s not doing that.”

Simon groaned. Of course the first spirit he summoned was a git that wouldn’t just be released willingly. No, he had to get stuck with the one who had an attitude problem.

“I’m doing this. Right now.” Simon said. “We still need to find Ebb, and, besides, if you stay here like this for too long, you’ll turn all dark and violent and start hurting people.”

Baz crossed their arms over their chest. “No.” Simon looked at Penelope for help, but she just shrugged her shoulders.

“You’re leaving me no choice.” Simon pushed his jaw forward to stand his ground. A thick eyebrow quirked. Simon called for his magic, squeezing the scarf in his hand. “Show me the bond!”

The Sword of Mages and the scarf glowed bright, filling the church with a warm blaze that made all three of them squint. A golden thread sparked to life in the air, starting from the blue fabric and ending at the center of Baz’s chest.

Simon inhaled a deep breath. “I set you free for the next life!” he sliced his sword through the air, aiming directly for the golden thread. Instead of severing it, the edge of the blade caught on the line. The Sword of Mages vibrated in his hand, and small sparks flew from where they met.

Baz relaxed, but Simon wasn’t giving up just yet. He tried slicing through it again, then tried sawing at it, but all it did was send more sparks flying and make his shoulder hurt.

Simon turned over to see an obnoxious smirk on Baz’s face.

“Wow. You really suck at this.” they said, looking pleased with themselves. Simon turned to Penelope.

His heart hammered in his ears, and his throat felt like it was closing up on him. The sudden aching in his chest (surely not helped by his tight binder) threatened to swallow him whole. Penny was immediately at his side, her voice calm and soothing as she gripped his arms.

“Don’t worry about this! This isn’t your fault, Si.” she jerked her head in Baz’s direction. “They’re probably too bull-headed to cross over.”

“Hey!”

Penelope ignored their protest. “Just like my great-aunt, remember?”

“Maybe.” Simon mumbled. He didn’t want to think about it. Shame burned hot on his cheeks.

“Look.” Baz called. “I’m willing to cut you a deal.”

Simon and Penny turned to them.

“I’ve got unfinished business.” Baz said, brow furrowed. “And I need to check on my friends. They were with me when I died, I need to make sure they’re okay.” their face twisted between annoyance and something that could’ve been worry. “And maybe they know who got me. That could be connected-” They shook their head, interrupting themselves. “If you help me on a personal project, and let me find my friends and make sure they’re okay, I will willingly let you do what you need to do and send me to the afterlife.”

Simon looked at Penelope, who shrugged. “I don’t think we have much of a choice here.”

“Okay.” Simon took a step forward. “Wait. What’s this ‘personal project’ you’re talking about?”

Baz’s features got rigid. They stepped closer to Simon.

“My mother’s killer walks. You are going to help me find out who he is, and avenge her, and bring her peace.”

[my other works for the countdown]

#carry on countdown 2020 #simon snow #baz pitch #carry on countdown #coc 2020 #aiden thomas #carry on #cemetery boys #snowbaz #yadrian #julian diaz #nonbinary headcanon #they/them pronouns for baz pitch #trans simon snow #transmasc simon snow #rewritten scene #cemetery boys AU #carry on countdown day 10 #crossover

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lyrazehedgieboiii · 4 years

Text

another mood

I was in the mood to do this. I know. I’m pathetic. I have asks, yet I’m not doing them. I will get to them.

SO, there’s this person on Deviantart called MontyTH, and basically has an OC of this little hedgehog that’s supposed to be Sonic’s little brother. (Lmao he actually looks like a SonAmy fanchild though) So, that inspired me to make this!

PLEASE READ THIS PART:

Monty is kind of a blueish-periwinkle color, with three bangs just like Amy’s. He has emerald eyes just like Sonic. Sonic is overprotective of him, and gets jealous when someone else gets his attention.

Ages:

Amy: 16

Sonic: 19

Monty: 9

Basically anyone else:

Female: same as Amy’s.

Male: Same as Sonic’s.

“Hey Monty! I’m home! I have someone with me! Come down, I want you to meet her!” Her? What did he mean, her? Monty went down the stairs, and found his brother, Sonic the Hedgehog, with a pretty hot pink hedgehog.

“Hi big bro! Who’s she?” Monty asked, gesturing out to the lady next to him.

“Monty, remember Amy Rose?” Sonic asked. Monty remembered his number one fangirl. She would always chase after Sonic, always begging him to marry her. It was quite annoying, really. However, Monty couldn’t say that out loud. Sonic had taught him to be nice to everyone.

“Yeah. She was your friend.” Monty simply said. He was about to say ‘fangirl,’ but stopped himself before he could say it.

“Well, now she’s back, and she’s more than just a friend now!” His big brother exclaimed. “I introduce you, Amy Rose! My first girlfriend!” Earlier, Sonic had his arm around her covered waist. Monty looked at her. She was practically unrecognizable! Her quills had grown to her back, she wore studs on her cute little ears. She was wearing a red cropped sweatshirt, and she she had a rose pendant around her neck. She wore a black shirt under the crop top. She wore skinny jeans and a pair of red converse.

“Hey there, Monty!” She giggled. “You probably wouldn’t recognize me, seeing that I was very annoying as a kid, but don’t worry, I won’t take your big bro away!” Amy said in a loving voice, like she was a doting mother praising her child. Monty liked how she changed.

“I sure hope not!” Monty replied. Amy giggled once again, and Monty decided that he liked her and thought she was great for Sonic. “So she’s your girlfriend?” He questioned, turning to Sonic. He nodded.

“And she won’t be able to get rid of me that easily!~” Sonic chirped, nuzzling his head into the crook of Amy’s neck. Amy chuckled.

“After years of chasing you, of course I’d hold on to you forever!” Amy cheekily replied, nuzzling back. Monty found this a bit awkward, just standing there as his brother and his old stalker were starting to get intimate. He cleared his throat, hoping they would notice that he was still in the room. They quickly separated, and blushed.

“Uh, well, I’ll go get all of us a quick snack. Monty, can you please take Amy to the living room?” Sonic commanded him. Monty saluted him, and took Amy’s hand.

“What spell have you used to make Sonic fall for you?!” Monty demanded out in surprise. Amy flinched, not expecting the sudden outburst.

“Spell? I’m not a witch, Monty. You know that.” Amy stated while smirking.

“Your face is saying something else.” Monty crossed his arms, tapping his foot, copying his brother when he would get impatient.

“Monty, are you not happy that Sonic finally has someone to love? And that someone actually loves him back?” Amy inquired, but Monty wouldn’t have it.

“Are you saying my brother doesn’t, ugh, love me?” Amy was taken by surprise again.

“No! I meant love, romantically! He loves you so very much, and you have a big piece in his heart. All I ask, is that if I can have a piece of yours?” Amy gently questioned him.

“...Why?” He seemed a bit disturbed as to why she would want to be friends with him.

“You’re a really nice kid. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with you? You’re adorable and I love making new friends. Last time you saw me, I was some brat who only wanted Sonic to myself, and I would kill anybody who got near Sonic. I’m not like that anymore. I mean, I would kill any flirters who got near Sonic.” Amy darkly chuckled.

“Uhm, still as...hyper as always?” Monty tried to lighten up the atmosphere, indirectly asking if she was still crazy.

“Not really, I only act crazy when someone does something I hate, or when they abuse any of my friends’ names.” Amy responded, as if she was prepared for that question. “Anyways, has Twinkle Park changed? I haven’t been there in a long time.” She asked, hoping he’d offer to go with her so they could bond.

“Yeah, they added some more exciting rides there, I go all the time with my friends. We can go there tomorrow and I could show you!” Monty exclaimed, ecstatic to go on the newest ride, that only he and a few other knew about. “But you’ll have to wake up early, we have to be the first ones at the park!” He added, while Amy nodded.

“I can’t wait!” Amy replied in the same tone as him. Sonic comes back and hands them some snacks and Monty goes back to his room to give the couple some privacy, because he saw Sonic’s hand going down her back...

They started to make-out aggressively, Amy on the bottom and Sonic at the top. Sonic bit her lip begging for entrance, and Amy happily accepted. They were like that for a few minutes before they heard Monty yell out in disgust. Amy left, after trying not to give in to Sonic’s pleads to sleep with him. (not like that!)

The next day, Amy and Monty went to Twinkle Park, and were on the new ride, which was called “The Thrill Seeker,” which Amy admitted wasn’t as thrill seeking as being in Sonic’s arms when he’s running, but they enjoyed it. Then came one of those prize-winning game with the hammer, and Amy showed off her strength with her own hammer, breaking the game altogether. She won a stuffed Sonic, and yelled out “AMY ROSE IS BACK, BABY!” until a couple of Eggman’s robots (which were automatically programmed to attack without Eggman in sight) decided to attack Twinkle Park, but Amy and her iconic hammer saved the day.

‘She looked so cool, no wonder Sonic loves her so much!’ Monty thought, as she appeared out of the smoke, her hair dancing with the wind. He gasped loudly. Then, it was time to go back home. Amy insisted that she go with him so nothing happens. Monty didn’t mind; Amy was now his new guardian angel. Well, not exactly “Guardian,” because Sonic was, but still, he was super thankful for her. As soon as they got home, Sonic pounced on them, asking if they were alright, and if anything happened. Monty proceeded to tell him about how Amy single-handedly took down Eggman’s robots, and made Amy blush by how heroic he made her sound.

Sonic seemed impressed, and that made Amy’s heart soar to the heavens. Monty went up to his room to text all of his friends what he had experienced. Sonic smirked at Amy and pulled her into his room. They made out once again, but with Sonic being fast, attempted to pull her shirt up before Amy knee-ed him at the crotch. (DUDE I WANT TO WRITE LEMONS SO BADLY FUCK TUMBLR’S POLICIES)

“Sonic, your brother is upstairs, he could hear us! And, I won’t let you go any farther until you propose!” Amy declared. Sonic’s sexy smile dropped.

“Amyyyy, you’re only 16! You need a legal guardian to allow you to get married.” Sonic pointed out.

“Then you can ask Rouge if you can have my hand in marriage! She took ‘responsibility’ of me, since I’m still kind of a minor.” Amy rolled her eyes. “I moved in with Blaze and Rouge, so I’m closer to everyone!” She told him in a happy tone. He was happy too, he got to spend more time with his beautiful girlfriend...

TIME SKIP TO MOTHER’S DAY :DDDDDDDD

During the time passing, Monty and Amy took the time to have fun by going out to eat, take a drive, train Monty because Sonic was scared something would happen if he used his thunder powers (it fits him, I don’t think MontyTH gave him a power). And he also told her about things that happen in school, and Amy always gives him advice on how to handle it.

Then came Mothers’ Day, the day to celebrate mother figures everywhere, whether it be your mother, your sister, your teacher, anyone. Monty never knew his mother, because she died when Sonic was only 10 and Monty was a newborn. Sonic looked everywhere for an opportunity to give his little brother the life he deserved. He became a hero, earned a lot of money, got a house, sent his brother to school, gave him the life he deserves. He didn’t have a mother, but Sonic tried to be everything for him.

Monty decided to celebrate with Amy for Mothers’ Day, seeing as she was his brother’s girlfriend, and he could trust her with anything. She was his mother-figure, as well as a sister-figure, as Sonia wasn’t around because she had become queen. Monty texted ‘Happy Mothers’ Day Amy!!!!💕💕💕💕🌹” as soon as he woke up, and as soon as he sent it, he heard someone’s phone get a notification downstairs. He ran down to find Amy wearing one of Sonic’s cotton shirts, crying with a smile as she looked at her phone. She saw Monty and squeezed the living daylights out of him, and kissed his forehead.

“T-Thank you so much! I’m so honored that you think of me as your mother! I love you so much!” She kissed him all over his face like some doting aunt would to her nephews and nieces.

“You’re welcome!” He managed to say, all of his breath being taken out. She let him catch his breath, before he asked her something. “Where’s Sonic?”

“On his morning run.” That got Monty confused.

“But, he usually goes when I go to school?” He said, not sure why his schedule changed.

“It’s because he doesn’t want to leave you home alone, but since I’m here, he gets to do it early.” She blushed intensely, thinking of what they had done last night. “Also, someone’s going to get another big sister~!” Amy’s voice chimed melodiously. Monty tilted his head in confusion. She stuck her hand out to reveal a diamond encrusted ring on her finger. Monty’s eyes widened in shock and happiness.

“You and Sonic are getting married?! Yes!” Monty yelled and threw and a fist up into the air. Amy giggled and nodded. Sonic zipped back into the room and ruffled up Monty’s quills and kissed Amy’s cheek. He put a hand around on her waist, representing that she was his. Amy sighed in content.

“Whatcha guys talking about?” Sonic asks, taking his hand off of her and grabbing a plate of toast that was on the counter. “Amy told me that you proposed to her!” Monty exclaimed, running around, streaks of lightening traveling through his quills. He jumped onto Amy, who would’ve almost fell back if Sonic wasn’t behind her. She happily wrapped her arms around Monty and hugged him back.

“Yup! Rouge, her guardian, said that I have to wait until she’s 18 to get married, but for now, she’s engaged to me.” Sonic informed him. Monty nodded in understanding and went upstairs to talk to his friend on Discord. Amy turned to Sonic and grinned. Before they were about to kiss, they heard the doorbell ring. Sonic answered it, and found Rouge standing there with some documents.

“Here’s the papers, like I said, she’s not getting married until she’s eighteen.” Rouge simply stated and waved at Amy. “Here’s some of your clothes, hun!” She wheeled a suitcase into the house and flew away. Amy hugged Sonic from the back, avoiding his quills and nuzzling him in the neck. He turned around and kissed her.

“I love you, babe.” Her muffled voice could be heard saying. Sonic’s heart felt like it leaped right out of his chest, but kept his happiness contained.

“I love you more.~” Sonic replied.

“Says the one who’s been running away from me since I was eight.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“I was an immature boy back then, I’m a responsible adult now!”

“...Last night told a different story.”

“How do I even reply to that, Ames?!”

“Say I won.”

“No.”

#sonamy story #sonamy fanfic #sonamy fanfics #sonamy #sonamy fanfiction #sonic and amy #sonic the hedgehog #amy rose #lyra ze hedgie boiii #sonic #sonamy auish

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haikyuuscreaming · 4 years

Text

hi um so no one requested this but like i went through something basically like this and cried a whole lot about it and i dont think its even that angsty or makes sense but i just barfed it up as a vent fic so haha funny imi’s stupid and writes about her emotional exhaustion as an x reader

heres an unrequited iwaizumi x reader :D (SORRY THIS ISNT FDSKFJ this isnt really a tumblr drabbles its more of an ao3 oneshot so)

(also sorry if none of the fic makes sense or flows well,,, i just wanted to get this out)

Ever since your first day at Kitagawa Daiichi, you found yourself with a crush on Iwaizumi Hajime.

You couldn’t help it. As soon as you saw him in your school-orientation group the week before school started, you couldn’t help but feel something more than a friendly glow. You were already sitting with your orientation group, but once you saw him join the group (albeit sort of late), your stomach practically flipped with butterflies.

He even sat down next to you.

The rest of the orientation went more than fine. Your delight when Iwaizumi started conversations with you was absolutely immeasurable. Even when your group was performing normal get-to-know-you activities, your heart seemed to race every time he made eye contact with you.

“Your name’s [Surname] [Name], right?” Iwaizumi asked, tapping his pencil against his desk. The orientation paper had asked for the names of three people in your group.

“Yeah.. and you’re Iwaizumi Hajime…?” You didn’t really need to question it, but you did so anyway to be polite.

“Mhm. Uh-- sorry, how do you spell your name?” Your heart picked up its pace once you heard him attempt to spell it out. To your feeble, gleeful surprise, he spelled it right.

“Oh! Um, that’s actually how you spell it. Thanks.”

“No problem.” He smiles at you and your seventh grade self felt like beaming brighter.

His impression on you had lasted.

In fact, that first impression on you had made your school year much better somehow.

Initially, you wanted to go to Yukigaoka with your best friends, but you ended up getting into Kitagawa Daiichi. You were miserable at the prospect of going into a school without your best friends that had been with you through thick and thin, but you lit up once you saw your schedule and found you had quite a few classes with Iwaizumi.

Throughout middle school, you made new friends and became close with Iwaizumi and his friend Oikawa Tooru. They eventually became one of your primary friend groups: you and them. Your number one best friend though, you found, was a new friend you made, Hanae.

Maybe the first mistake you made was telling her that you had a crush on Iwaizumi.

Okay, well, you didn’t tell her- she found out? Forced it out of you? Either way, not a big deal, you two are basically sisters now. But you did kind of wish she would stop mentioning it so much.

“Look, [Name]-chan~” she would always laugh and point at him discreetly whenever he was in the vicinity. “It’s your future boyfriend.”

It was always the same, every time.

“Would you shut up,” you complain, smacking her shoulder lightly which earned a laugh from her. “He could be listening!”

“Just telling the truth~” Hanae would always flash a smile back.

Things changed, though.

On a hang-out with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, you noticed their glances at each other-- Iwaizumi's being weary, while Oikawa’s was cheeky and sly.

“Hey, what are you two smiling about now?” you laugh lightly. The varied stares they gave you made you quiet down. “No, seriously, are you keeping secrets?”

“Of course not,” Oikawa chimes in. “Iwa-chan has big news though!”

Your heart rate spikes a little bit and you feel sweat beading on the back of your neck. And you're blushing too. Under Iwaizumi's warm, sharp gaze, you feel like melting under his radiance. “Eh? Haji, spit it out!!” Your anxiety falsely passes off as intrigue and excitement.

Flushing a little bit, Iwaizumi scratches his neck and smiles at you, “I wanted you to be the second to know, I have a girlfriend.”

…

You're shell-shocked.

If Oikawa picks up on it, he doesn't say so. “Seeee, [Name]-chan, I know we didn't believe it, but Iwa-chan finally snatched himself a girl!” Iwaizumi responds with a swift punch to the gut.

“I….” you can't find the words. You force yourself to smile like it's the only thing you can do. “Haji, that’s amazing!! Who is it? I didn't even know you had a crush…” Your voice falters but you push your words out as if your life depended on it. How did you manage to sound so genuinely happy when it felt like your entire world was about to crash?

Iwaizumi flushes again and you feel jealousy seep in. You so wish it was you that he blushes for. “Haha, yeah. Oikawa didn't know either for once; I didn't tell anyone, you know? Wasn't really sure yet. But it’s Aika-chan.” The way his face lights up burns a hole in your heart.

He even uses -chan for her. How special. The bitter envy feels like acid rising in your throat, and you feel queasy. Like you could keel over, cry, and puke out your guts.

“Ohhh, Aika-san is cute,” you make yourself say.

(Honestly, you're so good at lying and saying this wrong but right bullshit, you’d think you're a sociopathic robot or something.)

“Mmm… don't get jealous though, [Name]-chan, you're cuter!” Oikawa hums and you laugh loudly, hoping that you'll fake it till you make it. “Tell her how it happened, Iwa-chan. It was hilaaarious.”

The poison in you burns harsher but you nod along.

“Don't tell me what to do, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi bites almost playfully, before meeting your blank gaze with his kind, gently blazing eyes that always made you weak. Right now, you were not weak in the good way. “Aika-chan confessed to me yesterday near the sakura tree after we had class together… and I don't know, I guess it really clued me in that the feelings I had were real.”

(Iwaizumi looks so happy and content that it makes you want to be happy too, but you honestly feel like doing nothing but crying.)

“Aww, that's so sweet~” Your voice gets softer and you hate yourself so much for sounding weak.

But before either boy can reply, the panic and agony sets in. You feel your eyes glass up and your body tense, and your mind is begging you not to break down.

Unfortunately, they both notice.

“[Name]-chan? Are you okay?? You look kinda sick~” Oikawa sounds cheery and playful but his eyes convey an undercurrent of worry.

And bless Iwaizumi’s stupidly handsome oblivion, he blinks at your worriedly and puts a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Do you need to go to the nurse? School’s still open I think, and it's right around the corner-”

Fuck him and his mind-meltingly handsome everything. Just his voice and his sharp gaze makes you want to cry harder and collapse to him.

“I-I have to go, sorry guys,” You fucking despise how cracked your voice is becoming as your facade slips. “I promised Hanae that I'd go get bubble tea with her. See you Monday.”

Eyes stinging, you turn as quick as you can and ignore their confused voices.

(The tears flow like acid and you feel like dissolving from the inside out.)

Months pass and you deny your horrifyingly strong yet compressed feelings.

You greet Aika and Iwaizumi in the hallways, and you know that you're happy because Iwaizumi is, and that's honestly all you could ask for your long-time crush (turned bitter love). You even talk to Aika freely during shared classes, just to disguise your depressing jealousy.

Every time you see them share a discreet kiss or grip each other's hands, you genuinely wish you were dying. It sure feels like you are.

(Like you're drowning, like your lungs are burning up and you're begging for oxygen, begging to breathe in Iwaizumi's love that's reserved for someone else. It hurts a lot but he's happy.)

(So you have to be happy.)

Hanae spares you sympathetic looks. “Come on, wifey-chan, you're married to meee. Get over him, he doesn't deserve you if he chose Aika the troll over you.”

“That's mean,” you sigh and crumble onto Hanae. “Aika-san’s nice. And pretty. And talented. It's no wonder Haji would choose her.”

“Stopppp! You’re so much more than Troll-chan, okay?!?” Hanae’s pep talk is brash, but you appreciate the charm. “If Iwaizumi-kun doesn’t see that, I’ll punch him.”

You laugh lightly at the fact that Hanae had talked to Iwaizumi enough to be calling him kun, but your voice is still heavy despite the sentiment. “You're so weird. But that's why I love you.”

“Of course you do~”

On another innocent hang-out with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, you’re met with abrupt news.

“Aika and I broke up.” Iwaizumi mutters softly.

“Eeeeh?!” You’re shell-shocked again, but you'd be lying if you said you were crushed like last time. “But-- but you guys were doing so well! You were the cutest couple!”

“She broke up with him over text,” Oikawa chimes in and you gape as Iwaizumi punches him again. “Two days ago.”

“She what-”

“She said she wasn't ready for a relationship,” is all Iwaizumi says.

You feel heartbreak and burning pity boil inside of you. “I-I’m so sorry, Haji… you didn't deserve that. You'll find someone better.”

Me. It's me, I promise I won't break your heart the way she did, because you're all I ever wanted.

He nods and for the first time in a while, he hugs you tight. “Yeah..”

It breaks you because it feels so good, his embrace warming you.

But it breaks you more to hear him whisper, “I can’t get over her though.”

(You just wanted him to be happy but he can’t. You can’t fix it.)

“You will,” you breathe out, trying not to let the tears slip. “You’re gonna be okay.”

(You know you’re not.)

But you don’t say that when you feel Iwaizumi’s shaky breath and him muttering, “Thanks.”

“Oh my god, [Name], did you hear about Hajime-kun?” Hanae’s alarmed voice three days later makes you concerned.

First of all, Hajime-kun-- “W-What? What happened now??” Nonetheless, panic still seeps into you.

“Aika broke up with him!!” Hanae seems so worked up over this and you wonder, how close is she to him? “Can you believe it?? She really threw away one of the best people in school!”

Shouldn’t I be saying that…? “Yeah, I know…” you try not to sound too bitter. “But like, it’s not really her fault she wasn’t ready for a relationship..”

Hanae huffs and crosses her arms, leaning onto you. “Well, I mean you’re right, but she shouldn’t have signed herself up for it if this was gonna happen. I feel so bad for him.” You’re about to layer on your argument, but Hanae straightens up and smirks. “See, your man’s single. Shoot your shot!”

“Right after a break-up?? Hanae, you’re batshit crazy-”

“Uh, well, make him like you, then shoot your shot!”

Your head and heart kind of hurts from all this talk about Iwaizumi, no matter how smitten you are for him, so you just blindly nod and agree.

It works for the rest of the day until you get home and cry into your pillow, wondering what to do.

Hope is re-kindled into you.

Over the past two-ish months, post-breakup, you find that comforting Iwaizumi makes you feel much better than wallowing in your self-pity. It’s a win-win: you’re putting even more of his trust into you, you two are getting even closer, and this could quite possibly end up in a great situation.

You melt at the sight of Iwaizumi, and every day you can see happiness soak back into him. Every time he laughs at one of your stupid jokes or grins at you while you rant and complain, you feel like your heart stops out of complete adoration of how stunning he is in every way you can think of.

He isn't perfect, but you think he's the perfect match for you.

And one day, at a study “date” (you try very hard not to take that term to heart!!) at a café, Iwaizumi peers up from laptop and gives you his signature, gruff yet content smile and says, “You know, I don't think I need Aika anymore.”

(You want to kiss him.)

It’s honestly been a shitty time for you and your friends, you realize.

Hanae broke up with her boyfriend, as you would have figured over the past few weeks she’s been ranting to you about how annoying and clingy and overprotective he is, but you found that she broke up with him over text. Oikawa went through three girlfriends in a month, to which he pouted and whined about but you knew he was secretly relieved that he didn’t have to carry more burden. And there’s the whole heartache Iwaizumi thing, even though things have been getting relatively better.

(You also realize amongst all your friends, you’re the only one who’s stayed very, very very single. You hope that’ll change soon.)

Things are going absolutely amazing with Iwaizumi. Even Oikawa’s been smirking at you and teasing you about your “true love” (to which you frustratedly deny but you honestly know that it’s just the truth when you consider your feelings for him). The two of you have felt confident enough to spend time with each other at your respective homes without feeling awkward or the need to have Oikawa there to provide a third wheel. You couldn’t wish for anything more.

So now you’re at a family-friend’s party, lounging on the couch away from the scene, on your phone. It’s so loud, but you’re content and refreshed on all the snacks you’ve practically been inhaling. Your phone pings in your hand and you glance up at the notification you’ve just received.

Oh, a text~

It’s from Hanae.

poopy hanae >:)): [name] are you busyyy

YOU: no not really

YOU: just at a party

poopy hanae >:)): OH okay so um can i tell you something but

poopy hanae >:)): i dont want you to get mad or sad ...so please let me just finish my texts

YOU: ?? yea go ahead , ill wait for you to finish :)

You feel kind of nervous once she puts it like that, but you let her continue.

poopy hanae >:)): remember how after my break up i promised i wouldn’t fall for anyone else, not for a while yk? i promised that to me and him: i wouldn’t let my heart get broken or whatever. but i found out that i don’t think i’ve ever really fallen for my ex. i think i just dated him because i felt bad and felt like i had to date him because i didn’t wanna reject him… but it happened still. but i think i’m in love now. honestly.

poopy hanae >:)): i’ve never felt this way around any guy before, not my ex, not anyone. everytime i see him my heart goes crazy, and i want to talk to him all the time. he’s just so perfect in every way. he’s so smart, he’s handsome as hell, he’s strong and caring… and i promised both of you i wouldn’t fall for anyone else but i broke that promise to him, you, and me. and i think you’ve figured out who he is now.

poopy hanae >:((: i’m sorry i can’t help it. i didn’t want to tell you because that would make our friendship weird but i hope now we’re at the stage where we will still be best friends regardless of him. i’m truly in love with iwaizumi hajime and i’m gonna confess to him on monday (tmr). i love him so much but i want you to know i love you more so he won’t ever get in the way of us. ily <3

The more you read the message, the more it makes you want to cry. Your hand starts trembling around your milk tea and you feel your face warm up, your eyes glassing over and your vision blurring. Stumbling your way into the bathroom, you lock yourself inside, staring at yourself in the mirror. You watch your delicate, shaking features in the mirror as the first bitter tear rolls down your cheek. More tears follow.

Sobs wrack your body and hot tears glide down your face, constantly, like a river. Whimpers escape you, and your lips are cracked and dry, and you keep thinking, Why would she do this to me?

YOU: ahaha it’s okay!!!

YOU: a boy shouldn’t get between us, ly :) make him happy

YOU: you desrvee him mroe than anbyody else

You cover your mouth with your shaking fingers in hopes that the others can’t hear you outside over the music.

You pretend it’s fine the next day at school.

Hanae doesn’t even mention it, but she hugs you a lot more and keeps whispering, “I love you”. The bitterness has sunken in a little bit and you resist the urge to tell her, It doesn’t change the fact that you broke me, but you figure that it’ll be okay.

You’ll just lose your feelings for Iwaizumi so she doesn’t have “competition”.

(It turns out to be harder than you think.)

When you see Iwaizumi at lunch, his smile never fails to make you flush a little bit and make you feel so warm and comfy. When he sits down next to you (!! ahhh!) since Hanae was in line for lunch, he makes a sigh-grunt noise as he nestles his chin into the crook of his palm. Oikawa, bless his dumb ass, sidles down next to you, making a dramatic sigh.

“Did you know Hanae-chan confessed to Iwa-chan today?”

You try so, so SO hard not to tense. “Yeah. She told me a few days ago that she- she was in love with him.”

(The way your voice cracks at “in love” is pathetic, you think.)

You don’t miss the way Oikawa’s face briefly flashes a frown at you before morphing back into his signature pretty-boy smile. Iwaizumi looks a little embarrassed to be talking about this but he nods. “Yeah, she pulled me aside right before lunch and… yeah. It was so embarrassing…” You’re in fucking awe of how cute he is even when he’s distressed, but you remind yourself (with a pang of bitterness) that you aren’t supposed to think that anymore.

“And I turned her down,” Iwaizumi continues, and your ears almost fucking pop at the noise. He- how, what? Why? “‘Cause I don’t know, I never really felt that way about her. I guess that’s why she’s been talking to me more and more lately. She said she understood if I wasn’t ready to move on ‘cause of Aika and stuff, but.. she said something like she’ll change my mind.” He snorts and murmurs, “I don’t think that’ll happen, honestly.”

Oikawa laughs, a peppery laugh accompanied with a side-eyed glance towards you. “Iwa-chan, you’re such a brute~ You sure that’s the only reason you turned her down?”

Iwaizumi lets out a snort again. “Yeah.. I’m over Aika now, but I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. Plus, there isn’t anyone that I like like now. Hanae doesn’t stand out.”

The statement makes you crumble on the inside.

You idiot of a best friend. What good are you if you don’t stand up for Hanae?

But it doesn’t matter! He said he has no interest in anyone, including you. Or her. It’s pointless, futile. He never even considered you.

You’re so stupid, so worthless sometimes. You’re the worst. It doesn’t matter if you would go to the end of the world for Hajime. You have to give this up for her. Fight for her because he would never settle for someone like you.

You fight back the sob crawling in your throat, as your self-loathe and intrusive thoughts rain in. You try so hard not to let it get to you, but still-

It’s what Hanae deserves for putting up with you.

“You should give her a chance,” you force a small smile. “I mean, she’s pretty and smart, you know?”

Oikawa gives you a pitying gaze before Iwaizumi shakes his head, his cheek now pressing against his palm. “Nah. I don’t like anyone in that way now, and it’s gonna stay like that for a while, I’d think.”

He doesn’t like anyone in that way.

You shrug and nod, “Fair enough,” but your voice is so much smaller. You love Iwaizumi Hajime so much, and he’s always been your everything. From his habits to his comforting demeanor and his entire profile, he’s always infatuated you and you know that no matter how hard you deny it for anyone, you will never let go of the feelings that shackle you to him like chains.

You love him so much.

But I guess I’ll never win.

#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #sorry this sucks #this is a mess

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frogsandfries · 3 years

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I actually had a great day

These don't come around very often.

I got two more coats of mod podge on my book cover papers--I'm so insanely excited to stitch this one other book, and the third one is going to be a very interesting experiment that, from this vantage, I feel like I'm only going to try once, but I'll definitely keep an open mind.

I had this odd chunk of uninked frames, so I inked those, which allowed me to get them photographed and cleaned up for feeding into the pixel art program I use. I had about twenty photos of finished lineworks, which I saved to a couple of my folders. This brings me up to 103 frames, or about thirty-four finished pages of art. Which isn't bad.

I even got a few frames queued over on the graphic novel Tumblr.

I'd really like to get at least three frames cleaned up and at least ready to post tomorrow. I think that's a realistic goal. If I have any time besides that, I'd like to do some more pencil sketching.

I'm about one third of my way, at this point, to possibly a one-hundred page volume. It kinda makes me want to work even harder. At the same time, man, it's kind of exhausting to realize that I barely have fifty frames colored, and I already have more than fifty frames that are just linework and will need to be colored--not only that, but in order to keep my style consistent, I want to keep making a few new lineworks every couple of weeks.

I mean, I guess getting way far ahead on linework can't hurt. It'll mean I can keep working ahead on the script and kind of start to storyboard whatever I'm working on after this project.

But whatever is next is not for a long, loooonnnnnggggg time. This does give me time to rework a project that I don't have any remaining writing for, and I would have to rebuild it completely from the elements I remember, plus a more mature understanding of storytelling. Or.....I could just blaze right on through to book two for Kitty.......

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crusherthedoctor · 4 years

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The Lutrudis Hadeer Characterization Masterpost

A while back, I made a big post about the thought process that went into the design for Lutrudis, as well as her name, species, and choice of weapons. In the midst of doing a bunch of other stuff (like the Eggman Sweet or Shite review, which is definitely still coming guys I swear, please don't leave me D':), I recently figured I could do the same for the character's... well, character, and provide some further insight into how her personality was shaped together. Cause why not, right?

Obviously, we won't be covering literally every single personality trait that Trudy has, like her hobbies and whatnot. If we went over all of that, we'd be so far into the future that Tumblr's search system might actually start working again. No, we'll just be keeping it to the central ingredients that make up the overall package.

1. A cool head? In my Sonic OC?

The recurring cast in the Sonic universe is filled with fiery, hot-blooded sorts in one way or another. Sonic might as well be the love child of Mentos and Diet Coke with how full of energy he is, Knuckles and Amy are both prone to letting their temper do the talking, Eggman... is Eggman, and the list goes on. And while there are a number of characters who are more low-key or even outright introverted by comparison, they still tend to exhibit a trait or two that makes them more in-line with the rest of the crowd, be it youthful excitement (Tails, Cream), a fiery temper (Blaze), or the odd bit of cockiness (Shadow).

So what better way to help make Trudy stand out... than by not really having anything like that at all? Contrary to most of the hot-blooded cast, it takes a lot to truly enrage her, and even then, you'll be lucky to get anything past tranquil fury. She's not particularly hammy either - flowery with her language at times, certainly, but not hammy - nor is she a cocky type, even against the weakest or most ridiculous of opponents, and although she does grow as a person over the course of the story she's involved in, all of this remains fairly consistent.

That's not to say that Trudy is not a passionate person. Far from it, in fact. She has a lot of passion. She just shows it in a different way than the average Sonic character.

2. Lutrudis? More like Unsureofdis.

Uncertain characters are also somewhat rare in Sonic's recurring cast (at least in the game universe), and just like with the previous point, even when they're there, they'll usually have something to counter it. Blaze may have been a bit insecure before meeting and befriending Sonic and Co, but as mentioned, she’s got a fierce temper, and even when she started off on her own, she felt that only she could take care of the threat of Eggman and Inferior Eggman Nega. Likewise, while Silver may have doubted himself about Leslie the Crack Dealer’s Iblis Trigger ruse cruise, he still got cocky when he had Sonic on the ropes, and he could be quite full of himself in the Rivals duology as well.

The point being, they still tend to show some semblance of the same “yep, I'm the one for the job, no questions asked” confidence and swagger that nearly everyone else has, no matter the flavor. Trudy, suffice to say, does not have this mentality. Trudy accepting Sonic and Co's help in dealing with sinister affairs in Viridonia without any haughty protest on her part isn't just because she knows they can handle it, or because they're Sonic Heroes and they'll show 'em the real superpower of teamwork... it's also because she's genuinely not sure if she would be able to take care of the matter on her own.

When she saved Cream from the wrath of the Wraith for example, she wasn't thinking “This looks like a job for Miss Hadeer!”

She was thinking “This could very well get me killed, but I have to help the poor bunny somehow...”

In other words, Trudy doesn't consider herself to be some sort of destined protector who has to do this herself. She constantly second guesses herself, and frequently believes her friends are more qualified and competent than she is. Her only reason for doing her best and helping out regardless is simply because she wants to.

3. A light at the end of the tunnel.

For the sake of tact, it's not shoved in your face relentlessly, but reading between the lines, it can be easy to get a sense of melancholy from Trudy. Particularly due to past experiences, she does indeed have an element of depression within her, and this can occasionally show in her body language and facial expressions, even if she's currently feeling positive emotions.

And yet, notice how she continues being a friendly pony. Notice how regardless of her experiences, and her thoughts on said experiences, her actual behaviour is (mostly) free of bitterness or cynicism, and that she doesn't hide the joy that her new friends make her feel. She's not outright ignoring her experiences or pretending they don’t affect her, because they clearly have affected her, and she's never ignored her scars (metaphorically and literally, the latter being a permanent side-effect of her condition), but she knows better than to let it consume her, so she tries her best to look at the bright side of life even during the darkest days.

It's Sonic's opinion that Trudy's inner spirit is a lot stronger than she thinks, with or without his help. Her refusal to give into misery and lash out at the world foreshadows that he's not unjustified in that belief. That, and it ties into the franchise’s usual taste for optimism and idealism against the odds.

4. Hadeer? More like Hadork.

So, everything thus far helps set Trudy up as a mellow, down-to-earth sort of personality. So far, so good. However, it's still the Sonic the Hedgehog universe we're talking about, filled with many colorful characters of all shapes, sizes, and eccentricities. When a franchise has a larger than life cast in a larger than life world, the characters who are meant to be grounded often risk coming off as boring and could end up easily overshadowed, because the creators or writers often neglect to give them any quirks of their own, usually out of fear that it'll disgrace the character's gracefulness. In fact, I personally feel this was a common problem with Sally, in both SatAM and Archie (mostly pre-reboot admittedly).

IMO, these writers are just being plain old silly. Just because a character is quirky doesn't mean they forfeit all their dignity altogether. Like a lot of things in life, you just have to balance it out, and that's what I did (or tried to do...) with the green equine.

So yes, Trudy is elegant, but she's also a really goofy dancer. Yes, she's gentle and motherly, but she also goes back and forth between being a heavy sleeper and being an insomniac. Yes, she serves as a warmhearted auntie figure for Cream (and a big sister figure for Amy), but she also spends a quarter of her time looking like a ninja with the way her bandana covers her face (whether it be due to cold weather, strong scents triggering her sensitive nose, or doing it in the presence of villains as a mildly theatrical way of visually conveying her disdain for them).

And of course, in the right situation, she can be just as much of a dork as the titular blue hedgehog is.

Which leads me to my next point...

5. “You might know everything I'm going to do...”

Trudy was created with the intention of having a character who is actually like Sonic himself in a lot of ways, but it's not apparent initially.

This sort of yin-yang contrasting routine has been done before a few times in the series, with Knuckles, Shadow and Blaze being the most obvious examples. But with them, their similarities are easier to spot from a distance. Knuckles is more earth than wind, but you can tell he's as stubborn as Sonic is. Shadow's methods and outlook differ, but you can tell he's still a mirror of Sonic (cause you know, he looks like him). Blaze is more distant, but you can tell how she can easily be just as worked up and angered as Sonic.

With Trudy however, if you take her at face value, you would think she's the exact opposite of Sonic. She's an introvert, he's an extrovert. She's got a calm temperament, he can get impatient even at the best of times. She's quite fancy, he's more rough and tumble. She takes things slowly, he leaps ahead without a care in the world... You would think that, outside of them both fighting for good, they would have nothing in common, and that their dynamic would be more akin to Sonic's relationship with Sally, which although they were friends, their relationship could often be somewhat rocky due to their differences in... basically every area and opinion imaginable.

But then you get to know Trudy, and the unfolding of the adventure reveals the rest of what she has to offer. The aforementioned soldiering on in spite of any depressed moments is in itself a small hint that Trudy shares Sonic's philosophy of never giving up. She believes that most people are good at their core, and while she won't excuse especially evil people or actions and will punish them appropriately (albeit with regret that it had to come to that), she's willing to give a chance to those who are willing to take it, just like with the Blue Blur. Not only does she NOT find Sonic's jokes and hijinks annoying, she actually has a similar sense of humor herself. And while reasonable people generally tend to loathe injustice and oppression, Trudy shares Sonic's uniquely intense contempt for it, and believes in one's own personal freedom just as much as the hedgehog does, let alone freedom in general.

In short, Trudy is what you get when you take Sonic's deeper qualities and general outlook on life, and apply them to a more introverted and taciturn personality. The exact same beliefs, but from a different perspective, so to speak.

6. A different kind of intelligence.

Tails and Eggman are the resident kings of scientific prowess in Sonic's world, and it goes without saying that I wouldn't want to do them a disservice by having Trudy one-up them in that department. But that doesn't mean your character can’t be talented in other areas, right? Contrary to what all those Mary Sue tests dictate, your character can in fact have a high IQ without intruding on an official character’s territory.

Therefore, Trudy is pretty good at innovation and craftsmanship in her own right, but whereas Tails and Eggman do it through technology, her field of expertise is more to do with arts and crafts, and to a lesser extent geology. For example, both her bow and her whip were crafted by the lady herself, using nothing but her decorative knowledge and flair.

Outside of that, she tends to know a fair bit about a lot of things in the world, largely attributed to her photographic memory, meaning she's bound to have a few answers no matter the subject of discussion. Granted, she's unlikely to be the absolute number one expert on any of those things, but she's at least a useful jack of all trades in that regard.

7. Feeling a little horse.

I very much approve and flat out adore the idea of Sonic characters having characteristics that remind the audience of what species they're supposed to be, so I made sure that Trudy had a wide selection of little mannerisms that would reveal her for the little horsie that she is. These include, but aren't limited to...

- When she’s fascinated or concerned by something, she’ll lean a little forward with her hands close to her chest, which subtly mimics the act of prancing.

- When she wakes up, she briefly stretches her arms and legs (albeit not too recklessly so as to risk straining her sensitive limbs).

- Her tail has a number of quirks. If she's happy, it might slowly swish to and fro. If she's REALLY happy, it might flick...

- And if she doesn't approve of someone or something, it might stiffen and raise a little bit, as if to helpfully inform the bad guys where they can kiss, if ya know what I'm saying.

- When she's being affectionate with her friends, she might give them the ol' nuzzle.

- When she's in a playful mood, there might be a little skip in her walk, the anthro equivalent of trotting.

- When she's annoyed, she might humorously let out a snort that sounds identical to a real life horse snort. And while she certainly doesn't neigh in the traditional sense, when she finds something hilarious or Sonic's making her laugh with his antics, her laughter can't help but take on a neigh-like touch to it. (The latter was actually a headcanon suggested by @darklightheart, and I immediately agreed with it because it's cute and funny in equal measures.)

Naturally, she gets all shy and embarrassed when the neigh-laugh comes out, thinking it sounds silly. At least Sonic finds it endearing.

Note that I'm well aware that some of this differs from how real life horses react to certain things. (Eg: tail swishing tends to happen when a horse is agitated rather than happy.) But I freely admit that it's more for the sake of giving the character that extra bit of soul than it is for utmost accuracy. That's the way it goes with fiction sometimes. :P

Interestingly, Trudy tends to get Sonic indulging in a funny hedgehog characteristic of his own. That being, he might curl into a ball if Trudy's being particularly... ~complimentary~ towards him.

And there we are! These are the core elements that make up Trudy’s characterization. If you ever wanted a general list of what makes her tick, then hopefully this post will help in scratching that itch. And if it doesn’t, then hopefully it still proves that more thought was put into her than Scourge. :]

#Lutrudis Hadeer #Sonic Character Design

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anyrchyangel · 4 years

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everything that matters (KageHina Fluff)

Here’s another one xD

I have a feeling this Tumblr is gonna be full of KageHina drabble now... sorry

_______________________________________________________________________

Kageyama is good with his hands. He always has been. They’re big and slender and perfect and sometimes Hinata can’t help but get distracted by them. They handle volleyballs like they were made for them; they dig into Hinata’s scalp with fury when Kageyama gets irritated; and they touch Hinata with confidence in intimate moments that take Hinata’s breath away.

As far as Hinata is concerned, Kageyama is just ridiculously perfect. In Hinata’s mind, Kageyama is just good…at like…everything, aside from schoolwork, which doesn’t actually matter in Hinata’s opinion. He’s the world’s greatest setter (of this, Hinata is absolutely certain), he’s a hell of a spiker when he needs to be, and if Hinata is being honest, he’s the perfect boyfriend too. Just don’t tell Kageyama that last part or Hinata will never hear the end of it.

So Hinata can’t process the fact that Kageyama is not good at some things. Specifically, in this case, soccer.

It was a lazy, hot summer weekend and Kageyama had come over to Hinata’s house to hang out. Of course, they were outside playing volleyball. What else would they be doing? Well, aside from that.

Hinata was trying to balance the volleyball on his head while Kageyama was sucking down water because it was absurdly hot out and most normal people were inside enjoying the air-conditioner. Hinata almost had the ball perfectly balanced before Natsu came rushing outside slamming the door open. He could have pulled off a cool trick if Natsu hadn’t perfectly arced her new soccer ball into his face. Good thing he had long since gotten used to receiving using his cheeks.

Hinata collapsed with an indignant squawk but before he could yell at Kageyama for laughing or Natsu for kicking her ball into his face, Natsu does that thing. That thing where she scrunches up her adorable nose and stomps her foot and gets that look on her face.

“Natsu! Why are you kicking your new soccer ball into my face!?”

“Nii-chan! You promised to play soccer with me!” Kageyama, who had spit out his water while laughing at Hinata immediately stopped and stared at Natsu. He gets that dopey, lost, melty look on his face, like he doesn’t know what to do with the tiny creature before him that is, in his mind at least, an adorable mini version of Hinata.

Hinata can practically see Kageyama melt when Natsu turns to him and pouts, “Tobio-niichan, you play with us too!”

“Okay, okay Natsu we’ll play soccer with you. Just don’t kick your ball into my face again.” Hinata dusted off the dirt from his butt and rolled his volleyball onto the patio.

“How about I teach you how to dribble?” Hinata asks as he gently kicks the soccer ball around, playing it around his feet. Natsu erupts into a squeeeee of delight—her and Hinata have been known to have entire conversations with just noises so he’s quite accustomed to her squeals and guffaws.

“Come on Kageyama, you show her too.” As Hinata turns to talk to Kageyama he’s shocked by the look on his face. His eyes are wide and he’s blinking slowly in shock as he watches Hinata dribble the soccer ball.

Natsu rushes over and tries to imitate what Hinata is doing and Kageyama just keeps staring.

“What?” Hinata demands as Natsu starts kicking the ball.

“How…how are you doing that?” Kageyama asks, still staring at the soccer ball like it’s some sort of tiny alien that has descended on them.

“What? Dribbling? Ehhhhh, I guess I picked up a bit while helping Koji practice. He always made me help him with drills before he would toss to me.” Hinata shrugs and steals back the ball from Natsu in a flashy twisting move he’d seen Koji do.

“Nii-chan! Show me!” Natsu demands and Hinata laughs. He knows he should probably be annoyed; he’s always hearing how his friends get annoyed by their younger siblings, but Hinata likes hanging out with Natsu. She’s fun and they’re both pretty competitive so when they play, they get serious. She’s always keeping him company when he’s practicing volleyball and gets excited when he does a cool trick or shows off for her.

“Okay Natsu, hit it like this, with a soft pa and then a little bam and then when you’re in front of the net, you go WHAM!” Natsu squeals when Hinata kicks the ball into the small practice goal Hinata had asked their mom to get Natsu for her birthday. She races to the net to retrieve the ball and Hinata turns to look at Kageyama, who is now staring at Hinata like he is the tiny little alien who descended upon them.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Bakageyama?” Hinata cocks his head and stares back, confused as to why Kageyama looks confused.

“Don’t call me that, dumbass.” He scoffs and plants his big hands in Hinata’s hair, messing it up even more than it already is. Hinata howls and manages to escape as Natsu races back with the ball and kicks it to Kageyama.

“Tobio-niichan! Pass it back to me!” The smile on Natsu’s face is radiant and Kageyama looks like he’s about to combust into flames at the sight of it but instead of kicking the ball back to her, he just stares down at it, a rosy blush creeping over his cheekbones and neck.

“I…I don’t know how to…” Kageyama replies, his voice so low and quiet that Hinata barely catches it and he refuses to look up and meet Hinata’s gaze.

“Huh? You don’t know how? But you’re good at everything.” Hinata deadpans like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because to him, it kind of is.

Kageyama’s head whips up and he glares at Hinata until he sees Hinata’s completely serious expression.

“I’m not good at everything. Why would I know how to pass a soccer ball?”

“You are good at everything. Here, hit it like this.” Hinata toes the ball back and dribbles it around a bit, calling for Natsu to try and block him. She giggles and rushes to try and steal the ball, but Hinata twists around her and dribbles towards the goal.

“Come on Natsu, I’ll pass it to you, and you shoot it in!” She rushes to the goal like a demon released from hell, faster and more coordinated than she should be at her age.

Kageyama realizes in that moment that Hinata’s family is naturally ridiculously athletic, and when Natsu receives Hinata’s pass and sinks the ball perfectly into the goal’s right corner, Kageyama realizes that if Natsu ever fell in love with a sport like Hinata did, she’d be just as good as her big brother. Kageyama stares at the two redheaded siblings as she jumps to give Hinata a giant high-five and they start talking in noises again.

Kageyama isn’t surprised by the warmth that swamps his heart as he watches them. He’s been dating Hinata long enough to have gotten used to the feeling, but it’s especially strong as the two turn to give him nearly identical smiles that are all toothy and squishes their eyes into adorable little crescents.

“Alright, Kageyama you pass it to me, and I’ll pass it to Natsu!” Hinata yells as he gently passes the ball to Kageyama. Kageyama bites his lip in concentration and kicks the ball back towards Hinata…or at least, he tries to. He kicked it too hard and the ball flew in the completely wrong direction.

“Pffft! Kageyama, what kind of pass was that?” Hinata bursts into a fit of laughter.

“I told you I don’t know how!” Kageyama yells back, his face now blazing from both the summer heat and embarrassment.

Hinata is still laughing as he dutifully rushes off to go and get the ball and Natsu rushes over to Kageyama.

“Tobio-niichan, you got to hit it with a pa and a bam and then a wham!” She looks up at him like that’s the most obvious thing ever, somehow identical to Hinata telling Kageyama that he’s good at everything.

“Yeah! What she said!” Hinata chirps as he rushes back, as if he doesn’t realize that he and Natsu are the only ones who speak this noise-language that they’ve been conversing in. Crap, Kageyama thinks, he really doesn’t understand that that doesn’t even make any sense, and why is that so ridiculously cute!?

“Okay here, like this.” Hinata concedes and tries to slowly show Kageyama how he hits the ball with different parts of his foot. He can’t explain worth a shit, but he can at least demonstrate.

Kageyama tries to mimic the kicks and it works…kind of. The ball at least goes into the direction he meant for it to go. The three play like that for a long while, Kageyama getting slightly better than he had been at the beginning (at least, that’s what he tells himself), until Natsu gets too hot and wants ice cream. She rushes away to ask their mom for popsicles as Hinata and Kageyama sprawl out on the patio, trying to cool their burning flesh, leaving behind two gross puddles of sweat Hinata’s mom will probably fuss over later.

“That’s so weird.” Hinata muses as he turns to glance at Kageyama.

“What?”

“You’re really not good at soccer.”

“I already said I don’t know how to play. Why would I learn how to pass a soccer ball?” Kageyama growls, his embarrassment flaring up again as he turns to meet Hinata’s gaze.

“I guess there are some things you’re not good at after all, but I didn’t notice because you’re good at everything that matters to me.” Hinata’s voice is soft and his eyes are warm, like that warmth that engulfed Kageyama earlier is reflected in those gorgeous amber eyes that Kageyama loves to stare into. His embarrassment fades away into something much softer and tender as he stares at his tiny, talented boyfriend who seems to think Kageyama is some kind of perfect being who’s good at everything. Or at least, everything that matters. That’s okay, because Kageyama feels the same way. When it comes to the things that really matter, Hinata is perfect.

The popsicles that Natsu brings back are particularly sweet to Kageyama as is dissolves on his tongue, and that lazy ridiculously hot summer becomes a day that he knows he’ll cherish for a long time to come.

#kagehina #haikyuu #drabble #fluff #ficlet #writing #Idk what I'm doing #I guess I'll post my ficlets here now

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let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Catch Me If You Can (15/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: I’m currently writing the last official chapter of this story. How weird is that? I can’t believe it either...which is probably why it’s taking me forever to figure out the perfect way to end this story. Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for killing her eyes to read all of the words in this story 🥰

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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Tag list: @xellewoods @galaxyzxstark @eala-captian @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

When Emma wakes up, she rolls over on her mattress and buries her face further into her pillow, kicking some of the extra throw pillows off the bed and wondering why the hell she has so many things that look cute but cannot be comfortably slept with.

Seriously.

This is all TJ Maxx’s fault, and she’d like to damn whoever decided to put a store in seven blocks from her apartment. She shouldn’t even go inside, but she does. Every. Single. Time.

(So maybe it’s a little bit her fault too.)

Finally, she finds a spot that’s comfortable, her eyes shutting and her body calming down into the softness of the mattress so that she can fall back asleep when her phone starts blaring, her alarm vibrating across the top of her bedside table, and for a moment, she considers throwing her phone out the window so that she never has to get up from bed.

She’ll get fired from her job. And probably die from bed sores or something else equally as dramatic.

It’s the first thought that has her rolling over and turning the alarm off, the shrill blaring sound going away, and her eyes have to squint at the bright light to recognize that it’s seven in the morning and she does actually have to get up for work right now.

Her job is great, but she doesn’t get weekends off like normal people. And noon games are her actual worst nightmare.

Today is a noon game. She’s also got that dinner with David, Mary Margaret, and Ruth, and she’s unnaturally nervous about it as she almost always is when it comes to Ruth.

Like a zombie, she rises from her bed and shuffles into the bathroom before making her way out to the kitchen, adjusting her shorts and the sweatshirt that she’s wearing as she stumbles into the kitchen, the smell of coffee already filling her nostrils.

“Bless you,” she mumbles to Ruby who is sitting at their kitchen table with a mug already in hand before she fixes herself her own cup, not even bothering for it to cool down much more before she takes a large sip. If only caffeine worked right away. That would be the dream. “Why do you already look so put together?”

“I always look put together.”

“Liar.”

“I couldn’t sleep last night, and when I woke up, I just kind of got up, I guess. And now I’m sitting here dying inside. At least I don’t look like I’m dying. A family of birds could live in your hair.”

“That is not true.”

“It is. Have you looked at yourself this morning?”

“Yes,” Emma lies, taking another sip of her coffee. She most definitely didn’t when she was in the bathroom, but as long as her tits aren’t showing, she doesn’t really care what she looks like at home. “And I haven’t gotten ready yet. I’ll look nicer for the game.”

“I would hope so. I don’t think that they let reporters not brush their hair and roll out onto the field in sweatshirts. Where’d you get that, by the way? I don’t recognize it.”

And while she may be half asleep and her coffee might not have an instantaneous effect, she knows that she fucked up.

She’s wearing Killian’s Vanderbilt sweatshirt. The one she keeps stealing. She’s had it in her possession for two weeks now, ever since Toronto and the morning after they slept together, and she’s been sleeping in it because it’s comfortable and kind of smells like Killian.

It definitely smells like Killian.

And Ruby can see her wearing it.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, no, no, no.

It’s instinct to cross her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover up the faded words all the while she tries to come up with some kind of excuse. She’s not sure that she’s ready for their friends to know about the relationship yet. A part of her definitely wants to say something, but she and Killian probably need to talk about it first.

But what if it somehow gets out past that?

What if someone besides their friends and family know? It’s too soon. It’s all too soon for that, and she just can’t right now. It’s the middle of the season, so much time left in front of them, and she can’t let anything jeopardize her career.

Emma has no idea what to do, and she’s terrified of everything crumbling beneath her.

This is the happiest she’s ever been in a relationship, and the repercussions…she doesn’t even want to imagine them.

“Uh, um,” she stutters to Ruby, making sure that her face isn’t giving away her lie, “I’m not sure. I must have swiped it from David’s house one day. You know how he’s always got sweatshirts from all over the place.”

Ruby’s eyes squint at her from over her coffee mug, and it takes everything in Emma not to bounce off the balls of her feet. All in all, it was a pretty good lie because David most definitely does have all kinds of sweatshirts from different professional teams and colleges, but this is not David’s sweatshirt.

How could she have been so careless?

Ruby is so damn observant, but there’s no way she can make the connection over a sweatshirt, right?

“I need to steal some stuff from him,” she finally sighs, going back to her coffee. “It looks so much comfier than the things Graham has. I swear, if it’s a scratchy material, he buys it.”

“At least it looks nice on him.”

“This is true, my friend. His clothes do fit him well, but you know I much prefer him without any.”

There’s a knock on the wall that’s connected to Ruby and Graham’s bedroom. “I can hear the two of you, and sweetheart, it’s too early for you to be making sex jokes about me to Emma.”

Emma has to put her coffee mug down on the countertop as she laughs, the giggles stemming from deep in her stomach. Graham is the best and usually goes along for Ruby’s antics, but sometimes it’s too damn funny when he’s asking her to stop talking.

Definitely an opposites attract pair, but they work. Really well, actually. Emma keeps waiting for Graham to tell her that he’s going to propose to Ruby, but it hasn’t happened yet.

She should probably get her own place if it does. How weird is it to live with a married couple? Like, an eight on a scale of ten? Maybe a little less when rent is so high. But definitely at least a five.

“I love you,” Ruby shouts back, knocking on the wall three times.

Graham simply knocks three times in response.

“You two are ridiculous.”

“I know, but I like to think that I bring out the ridiculous in everyone.”

“You do. What time do you want to leave for work?”

Ruby hums as she taps her chin with her perfectly manicured nail. “In an hour and a half?”

“Perfect.”

-/-

Late June in the Bronx is basically a blazing hellfire, and Emma keeps sneaking into the air-conditioned press box every chance she gets only to be sent back outside to do an interview with a player or a coach or even a kid who caught a foul ball. It’s a little ridiculous, but it’s her job so she sucks it up.

At least she’s not wearing a full-blown uniform and exercising like all of the guys are. Most of them are soaked in sweat, even the ones simply sitting in the dugout, and she does not envy them at all.

All she really envies right now are people taking a cold shower.

It’s late June. She doesn’t even want to imagine what it’s going to be like in August or September.

Killian throws another ball, and then there’s a smack of bat against ball and a white and red blur that shoots out into right field only for John Little to catch it, ending the top of the third inning and Killian’s time on the mound today. They’re all leaving for London in five days, and Al has expressly stated that they are not screwing up Killian’s arm for a game where so many people are going to be watching.

She knows that it’s more because they’re playing the Red Sox than anything else, but she doesn’t mind preserving Killian’s arm when they can. His pitches haven’t been averaging quite as fast as they usually are, but she figures it’s probably a tactical change. She’ll have to ask him about that in the locker room later.

The next two hours seem to idle by, nothing too exciting happening, and when the game is over, she moves from her press spot, flashing her ID to the guard in front of the entrance to the tunnels, and makes her way through the hallways she knows like the back of her hand until she’s in the clubhouse with Jeff following right behind her. It’s loud in there, cheers and yelling and celebrations over their win, and it takes her ten minutes before she can even get someone to talk to her, other reporters pretty much taking up everyone’s time as all of the players move into various states of undress.

“Don’t you ever get tired of talking to us?” Will asks with a cheeky grin as he brushes sweat off of his buzzed hair. “I mean, damn. I get tired of talking to us, and I actually think you may be around more than me.”

She chuckles, unable to help herself. She’s always loved Scarlet’s dry sense of humor, and he’s nearly as easy to talk to as Killian or Robin or even Eric. “To you, most definitely. But I have my favorites on the team that I like.”

“Doc? King? Locksley? Fisher? Jones? Whale? I could go all day.”

“I can’t tell you,” she teases, messing with her microphone in her hand. “You want to answer some questions for me today?”

“As long as it’s not about me getting engaged, I’m perfectly fine with that.”

“You’re engaged?” Emma gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. “That’s so exciting! How did I miss that?”

“I have no idea since you talk to my girlfriend on Instagram.”

“Technically she’s your fiancée now.”

Will smiles at that a soft little thing that’s so unlike him and yet entirely him, and it makes her smile to herself. Will and Belle are getting married. That’s wonderful, but she did tell him she wasn’t going to ask about any of it, so she doesn’t, sticking to game stats and assessments and asking how he feels about their upcoming series in London. It’s the same with everyone she talks to, and after twenty minutes in there talking and chatting, she’s finished with her work and starts undoing all of the cords attached to her as Jeff turns off his camera and walks ahead of her as they leave the room.

But then there’s a strong grip around her wrist, and she’s being pulled away and down the hallway to what is a storage locker. If she didn’t know that it was Killian tugging her along, she’d assume she was being murdered.

She still could be and boy would that be a plot twist.

“What the hell?” she gasps out on a broken breath as the door closes behind her and all she can see is Killian’s face and shower-damp hair and a shelf full of cleaning supplies that make the entire room smell like bleach. “Why are you pulling me off into storage closets?”

He smiles, this really bright and cheesy thing, before strong hands are cupping her cheeks and soft lips and prickly scruff are brushing against her mouth and her chin in a slow, pleasant burn. This is how it’s been ever since Toronto two weeks ago. They slept together, and it was like this flip switched where they absolutely could not get enough of each other.

Not that she minds.

It’s electric. Honestly and truly. If they had easier access to each other, she knows that it would be even more intense, that they would be staying overnight and moving under the sheets until she couldn’t walk the next day. That actually almost happened last week, her body so sore afterwards, and as amazing as it was, that cannot be a frequent thing.

A girl has got to be able to walk.

She really, really likes Killian, is so close to loving him that it terrifies her, and sometimes she looks into his eyes and swears that if someone told her he hung the stars in the sky, she’d believe them.

This was never how any of this was supposed to go.

“Hi,” he growls, pulling at her upper lip before he pulls back so that their foreheads rest together.

“Hi,” she sighs as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her and feeling the softness of his hair. “You played well today.”

“I was okay.”

“But in the second, you – ”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do,” he promises, quickly brushing his lips over hers. “Have I mentioned how much I love that my girlfriend is an expert in my job?”

“Maybe a time or two, but this time it sounds slightly less macho man-ish.”

“That’s my goal.”

“Good.” Her stomach swoops at the smirk on his face, and she really wishes they were back at his apartment instead of in this stupid supply closet. “Why didn’t you tell me Will and Belle got engaged?”

“Because I legitimately didn’t know until right before the game. It apparently leaked or something, and he was all pissed about it. I think Belle posted the ring after it all to kind of beat out tabloids from making money off of them. They’re happy.”

“I would hope so. They’re getting married. People are usually pretty happy for that.”

“Eh, sometimes there’s those people who aren’t actually happy and think a new title and diamond ring will make them happy.”

“True.” Emma leans back against the door, the wood hitting the back of her skull, as she runs her fingers through Killian’s hair. It’s all long and messy again, and she honestly can’t decide which way she likes it best. “I do not want to deal with the crowd on the train getting out of here on the way to David’s.”

“I could drive you,” he offers with a shrug.

“Oh yeah, because that won’t at all be obvious. Also, I think we need to talk.”

“I’ve found that I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation when a woman tells me that.”

“Shut up, you ass.” She slaps the back of his head, but all he does is give her another cocky grin. So dumb. So, so dumb. “Okay, so, like, hear me out.”

“I have my listening ears on.”

“Yeah, little pointy ones.”

“Swan.”

“Okay, okay,” she mumbles, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth as she bounces on her toes. “I’m not – I’m not one hundred percent sure on this, especially with what I just found out about Will and Belle, but I think it might be time we told my friends and your family about us. Just a few people, the ones we trust the most, because I’m starting to slip up on where I’ve been or who I’m talking to when they ask. Also, I feel really shitty every time I lie to Ruby or David or Mary Margaret or someone else who is my friend.”

His lips are parted, mouth gaping open, and he’s blinking at her like she’s a crazy person. She might actually be.

“W-what? Are you serious?”

“I’m serious about us thinking about it. I’m still not completely sure on the entire thing. I think, maybe when we get back from London, we can have another conversation about it. I like to think this is going pretty well, and while I don’t want our relationship to escape us or our families, I don’t think we can keep doing this without telling the people we love.”

Killian’s brows furrow, his eyes thin lines beneath them, and his hands finally dip from her cheeks down to her shoulders with his nails digging into her skin over her freckles. “Let’s think on it, yeah? Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than thrilled that you feel confident and happy in us enough that you want to tell people, but I don’t want to expose you even more to the world. Because in our circles of people, love, it’s going to be a big deal that we’re dating.”

He’s right. She knows that he is. She’s had the same thoughts.

“I know. We’ll figure it out though, right?”

“Absolutely.” Killian squeezes her shoulders once more before dipping his head down and gently slanting his lips over hers in quick succession. “Now, as much fun as I’m having inhaling all of these chemical fumes, I think you have somewhere to be.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Emma, love,” he says tenderly, thumbing at the indent in her chin as he smiles that reassuring smile at her, “you’re going to be fine. It’s your family. You love them. I know you do. And you’re going to be reminded of that the moment you get comfortable sitting on David’s couch and relax into dinner.”

Right once more.

“Okay, okay,” she exhales, pulling in Killian for a hug so that she can bury her face in his shoulder and breathe him in instead of the chemical fumes for a moment, “I can do this.”

-/-

Killian was exactly right like she knew he was but didn’t like to admit outside of her head. She was building up the awkwardness, building up the strained relationship with Ruth like she always does, and while it wasn’t the best thing at first, now that she’s sitting crisscrossed on David’s couch with a glass of wine in her hand, she can think of few other places she’d rather be.

This is her family, even when she doesn’t admit it, and for a girl who never really got to have a family until she was too messed up to truly accept one, this is absolutely everything.

Just…everything.

“And then, Grandma,” Leo continues, walking back and forth through the room, “Captain America holds his shield up while the bad guys try to attack him, but he’s too fast for them.”

“This Captain America sounds like a cool guy,” Ruth laughs, very obviously confused about the whole thing. She has not caught onto the Marvel bug, which is pretty much a sin when Leo has been obsessed with Captain America for months. Mary Margaret and David say it’s the longest he’s ever been interested in one thing, and when Emma thinks about it, she believes it. “Do you think you’re going to be as strong as him?”

“Probably not,” Leo shrugs, “but he started off really small like I am so maybe if I’m tall like Dad and not short like Mom.”

“Hey,” Mary Margaret protests, her eyes cutting at her son while Emma and David snicker underneath their breaths, “I am not that short.”

“Mom, I’m ten, and I’m almost taller than you when you’re, like, seventy years old.”

“Leo David Nolan, I am not seventy years old. I’m thirty-nine. Don’t age me like that.”

“What’s wrong with being nearly seventy years old?” Ruth teases, and Mary Margaret’s pale cheeks immediately flush red.

“Nothing, nothing. I – ”

“I’m nearly teasing you, sweetheart,” Ruth sighs before turning her attention to Emma. “I watched your game today. You looked so beautiful, but why are they still showing you eating every time?”

Well, damn, she didn’t know that was still happening, so she takes another sip of her wine and rolls her eyes as she laughs. “I have no idea. Like, it’s a running joke at this point. You can literally google ‘Emma Swan eating’ and all of these videos pop up. Leo told me that they even add songs to them now.”

“They do,” David chuckles. “I showed him those.”

“You’re awful.”

“I actually think I’m pretty awesome.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Look, Grandma,” Leo laughs, taking Mary Margaret’s iPad over to Ruth, “here’s one of the ones with music. It’s so funny!”

“You guys are the worst,” Emma groans as she places her glass down and sinks into the couch. “The absolute worst.”

“You just seem to have a face for funny moments,” Mary Margaret says sympathetically, reaching over to pat her thigh. “It’s because you do a little dance when you’re eating good food, I think.”

That makes her smile. It’s always what Killian is saying about her when he’s teasing her over her eating habits, and that’s when she suddenly remembers that hat that she still hasn’t given to Leo. It’s been sitting in the bag she carries with her to and from games for weeks now, and she keeps forgetting to give it to the kid. He may still like Captain America, but he’s probably moved on to another favorite player.

Quickly, she gets up from the couch and walks to the entryway where she left the bag, shuffling through it until she pulls out the signed hat, and then holds it behind her back, a genuine smile curling on her lips.

“Leo,” she sing-songs, immediately getting his attention as his brown hair falls across his forehead, “if you stop showing Grandma weird videos of me online, I have a surprise for you.”

“Way to bribe my kid,” David whines without much conviction.

“It’s not a bribe. Not technically.”

“What do you have?” Leo gasps, taking the iPad away from Ruth. “What is it? What is it?”

God, to have the enthusiasm of kids. Life would be so much simpler. And happier probably.

She’s pretty happy now anyways.

Slowly, she pulls the hat around from behind her back, and Leo’s brows furrow in confusion. Of course they do. To him, it probably just looks like a random hat since the autograph can’t really be seen.

“A Yankees hat? I have a couple of those already.”

“Leo,” Mary Margaret and David say at the same time.

“It’s fine, guys,” she laughs, stepping a little closer. “Remember when you asked me if I could get you a hat signed by Killian Jones?”

Now Leo’s face lights up, a bright smile practically taking up all of it, and he runs to her and immediately wraps his arms around her waist in a hug so tight that she loses all of the air in her lungs.

“Thank you,” he sighs before releasing her and taking the hat out of her hands, staring down at for a moment only to put it on top of his head. It’s too big for him without being adjusted, but he doesn’t even care.

She feels like the coolest aunt in the world right now.

“You’re the coolest aunt in the world.”

Ah, so confirmation then.

“Killian Jones is the man who asked you out, right?” Ruth questions, and Emma has to bite her tongue as she moves to resume her place back on the couch. She wishes she had more wine, but she’s got to be up early again tomorrow and doesn’t need more to drink. “You’re still talking to him?”

“I mean, only for my job,” she lies. “He’s a nice guy, so he was really happy to sign something for Leo.”

Ruth nods her head, and Emma thinks that it’s the end of the conversation when it’s most definitely not. “So, are you dating anyone, dear? I don’t mean to pry, but I do like to know about your life and you’re much more difficult to get information about than David.”

“That’s because Mary Margaret can’t keep a secret.”

“Why am I feeling so attacked right now?” Mary Margaret laughs.

“Well, you can’t, honey,” David says to his wife. “You are the worst at keeping secrets, and you overshare all the time.”

“That seems like a bit of an exaggeration.”

“It’s really not, Marg,” Emma tells her before turning back to Ruth. “I’m not dating anyone right now,” she lies again, more guilt building up in her stomach, but she and Killian are going to talk about it after London when they’re not in a storage closet, “but I’m really happy. Things at work are going well, even if I’m busy, and I love all of my friends and family and how much time I’m getting to spend with them. But if something on the dating front seriously changes, I’ll let you know.”

Ruth winks at her, a smile on her face. “Well, I don’t believe that for a second.”

Emma stays there for the rest of the night, all five of them eating and watching movies with talking in between. Leo insists that Ruth get caught up on anything and everything Captain America, and even though she falls asleep during several of the movies, she does learn a little bit more, making sure to ask all of the right questions. She’s so good with Leo, with everyone really, and it reminds Emma of when she was a terrified fifteen-year-old moving into a new foster home not knowing what was going to be awaiting her.

For someone who was so unloved and never thought she’d find love, living with Ruth Nolan was a shock to her system. She hates that her own walls and issues kept her – keep her – from always accepting that love and genuine kindness, and she hates that she let Neal influence her to not believe that Ruth was her family.

She is.

Most definitely in every way, and this is going to be something that Emma works on. She’s very much determined to do so.

Her life is a good one, and despite how complicated it is sometimes, she deserves to be happy in as many ways as possible.

When the movies are finished and Emma is ready to go home and go to bed, she whispers words of goodbye to everyone, promising to come over again for dinner tomorrow and to bring Ruby and Graham with her since they are always itching for an invitation.

“It’s so good to see you, darling,” Ruth sighs into her hair as they hug goodbye. “I love you.”

Emma nods her head against Ruth’s neck, a smile on her lips. “I love you too.”

#catch me if you can #cs ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #captain swan

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