#but aside from my weird mental state these past few weeks

[entitled-fangirl]

A wolf.

Cregan Stark x reader

SMUT OMG PLEASE BE 18 OR OLDER

Summary: the reader has been shying away from Cregan, and it begins to affect their marriage. They find a way to fix it.

Warnings: p in v, talks of attempted r*pe, mental health

A/n: Based on many many many asks!! If I had a nickel for every time someone asked for this scenario, I'd have three nickels- which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened three times

Masterlist

………………………………...........

It had been almost three weeks since she had been almost taken advantage of in the Godswood.

Three painful weeks.

She was the same as she had always been outwardly- still outgoing, determined, hot headed, and witty.

But something still stirred deep inside.

Cregan knew that only time could heal the fear that still dwelled deep inside of her.

But the time was started to weigh on him as well.

Three weeks since they had been intimate.

But it was not for lack of trying.

It always started out alright. A few kisses that turned into something more. But when he would lay her on the bed and begin to let his hands wander, he could see the fear that bubbled from deep inside her.

And nothing would continue from there.

He could practically feel the whispers of the rats within the Winterfell walls. Rumors of what had made such a happy marriage fall apart.

He had grown tired of her. She had cheated. Perhaps she was pregnant.

It all angered him more than he liked to admit.

…

He sat with her on the small sofa of their chambers, the fireplace crackling.

“What was your question?” She asked with a smile and a furrowed brow.

“What animal would you wish to face? Here in the north?” He said as he sipped ale from his cup.

She hummed before easily answering, “oh. A wolf.”

He couldn’t stop the chuckle that rose from his throat. “A wolf? You wish to face a wolf, my love? You have no weapons in this scenario.”

“I am aware,” she continues to smile as she stood and moved to the bookshelf.

He watched as her fingers skimmed the spines of the books, “I do not believe you wish to face a wolf.”

She pulled a book from the shelf, satisfied with her choice and she moved back to the sofa. “Oh, I do.”

“You are strong, but I do not believe you may beat a wolf.”

She sat down next to him, “Best him? Why must I do that?”

Cregan was confused. “A wolf is aggressive. Proud. Protective. You cannot walk past it without showing it respect.”

“I do show respect.” She hummed as she began to open the book and read. “What would you choose, Cregan?”

“A mere rabbit. Perhaps a fox.” He laughed, “I do not see you surviving a wolf attack.”

She huffed and set her book aside, “I did not specify which wolf.”

Oh.

Oh.

He felt a smirk rise, “Oh, and what kind is that?”

She smiled and leaned to him, “a hungry one.”

He reached forward and grabbed her chin, “And pray tell, who will protect you from such a wolf?”

“Who said I was hiding?”

He couldn’t stop his lips from meeting hers.

The kiss was deep. Passionate and yet, gentle and kind.

His hands gripped her waist and pulled her to him.

She clambered into his lap.

Cregan pulled away, remembering that perhaps he should start to slow down. “Let us not be hasty-“

“I want you, Cregan,” she panted into his mouth.

He felt a jolt in his stomach.

She hadn’t said that in weeks.

He nodded, connecting their lips again as he pulled at his tunic.

She began to untie the knots on her shift.

He pulled his tunic from him as their lips disconnected, and she pulled her shift off just the same.

“Let us move to the bed-“

“No,” she stated firmly with a hand on his chest. She leaned forward and connected their lips again, “just here.”

He wouldn’t deny that request.

Her hips began to rock against his tented pants, causing him to let out a low hiss.

He nodded, gripping her hips and trying to move her to lay on the couch.

“No, no, no,” she said as she shook her head.

He was beginning to understand.

She felt trapped under him. Overpowered.

It reminded her of then.

But here? She was in control.

He nodded, beginning to trail kisses down her jaw

Her hand moved down pulling at his pants.

He smiled against her neck, bucking his hips up to let her remove his pants. A small whine came from her at the pressure against her.

Once his pants were to his knees, he reached up and grabbed her face, making her look at him, “you’re sure about this?”

She nodded.

“This is not of pity? I will never think less of you if we need to stop.”

“I want this, Cregan. I want you. Please.”

He couldn’t deny that now, could he?

When she began to move herself down to meet him, his hips bucked involuntarily.

He cursed under his breath. He needed to keep himself under control.

Her hands squeezed his shoulders as she sunk herself down onto him, her brows furrowing with the familiar stretch that had almost become foreign due to time.

Cregan let out a groan, his knuckles turning white as he gripped at the couch.

She stopped when she was fully seated on him panting lightly. Her forehead brushed his.

“You alright?” He asked in a whisper.

She nodded and a breathless smile overcame her, “I’m perfect.”

He continued to trail kisses down her neck, pausing when she began to move herself.

His hips tried to buck again, but he caught himself, chewing his lip to pieces in concentration.

“You feel so good, Cregan.” She grinded her hips. “I’ve missed you.”

“Gods, I’ve miss you too.”

His lips moved to capture hers as he pulled her tightly to him.

She kissed back with as much fervor as him, pulling his face closer.

…

“I do believe I like that position,” she finally said as she cuddled against him under the furs of their bed.

He grinned, “Do you?”

She nodded, “it felt nice.”

Cregan moved his head down to kiss the top of her head. “Perhaps next time I may lay down? So I may see all of you?”

Though he couldn’t see it in the dark, he could practically feel the gears in her mind spinning.

“We don’t have to. It’s just a thought.”

“No.” She nodded. “No. I want to. That sounds lovely.”

He smiled and pulled her closer to him. His eyes closed.

A long silence filled the dark room before he spoke again, “You truly believe you could best a wolf?”

She smiled, pushing herself up to meet his gaze, “Only the Wolf of the North.”

He leaned up, connecting their lips, “Yes. Yes, I suppose you could.”

…………………………………….

[amusedreams]

*quiet sigh*

I'm having a day why my asshole brain is lying to me, so I'm forcing myself to make a list of Things I've Done so it can quit telling me I'm a slug and should wail and gnash my teeth and rend my clothes.

I've cleaned the kitchen - defined as emptying the clean dishes from the machine, loading dirty dishes from breakfast (and later lunch) into the machine, emptied the drying rack, washed hand dishes so the drying rack is full again, and wiping down surfaces properly.

I've emptied a shelf and a bit of an author-pair I can't bring myself to read any longer because reasons. I'd already pulled a shelf and a half of another author who I have nothing to complain about, I just never reread those books. That amounted to two paper sacks to be donated.

I found other things that made me think of someone, and since they were small and flat, I pulled out stationery and wrote out a long note and tucked them into a Christmas card that will hopefully reach them in a couple weeks. I love them very much, and I hope they're improving, but they're even farther away physically, being on another continent, that most of my friends who are merely a state away.

I trimmed the rose bush. Thoroughly. I hope future me can enjoy the benefits of this, because past me is pretty sure NOT trimming the rose bush thoroughly is why last spring and summer was weird for it.

I made a grocery list. I'm pretty sure I missed a few important things, but I'll worry about that later.

I tidied email, wrote a review, and sent a short email to a craft person who I'm hoping to buy something from.

I pulled the sweep from the shower door and washed it thoroughly, then set it aside to dry thoroughly before I reinstall it.

I fed myself two whole meals. I also fed the cats. I also showered.

I know why my emotional brain is being an asshole, and it's understandable even. But I wish it would stop. We have grieved them all very much (for almost two decades in one specific case) and grieving won't bring any of them back. In fact, the one who's been gone the longest would be Very Sad we are Still Sad. We would probably be poked about putting up some sort of decorations involving lights which would make us feel better. So that's on the mental list for after grocery shopping.

[love1zrose]

Shikamaru Love

This is my first fanfic aka an imagine that I’m posting on here and I like to think they are good? (Any suggestions please mention them 😭) pretty sad at the beginning just trust the process,

Shikamaru Nara x reader/ y/n

Man of mystery Frl 💯

Thoughts are in italic

Shikamaru in red

Reader in Purple

Slightly toxic shikamaru

Semi public

Unprotected

Jealousy

3rd person

Slight cheating

Cursing

Mentions of alcohol

ANGST/NSFW

Lately you and Shikamaru where on a spiral, a weird one. It’s not like he had forgotten about you but. That’s what it felt like, ever since his mission he’s been so distant.

It’s not like he meant you any harm but he did, he kept thinking “it’s not her fault,” or “what did I do.”

You’ve been so needy since he would come back from those long long visits. You’ve been pushing it off for the sake of his mental health but you really thought he needed it one night only to find out he’d just push you aside.

Since you felt it was your fault he didn’t wanna touch you, you really didn’t wanna go to the party Naruto and Hinata where hosting for their wedding. But he persuaded you into going like always, he was your first lover ever since you could remember you don’t wanna let him go.

When you too arrived your greeted with friendly and familiar faces, as you make it over to the gift table to drop off a neatly wrapped present you had got for Hinata you notice Shikamaru talking to another girl and get red in the face. “Why won’t he give attention to me?” You murmured. You decided just to go over to him, as your walking he glances at you for a mear second and then goes back to talking to Temari his, ex.

“Shika, do you wanna dance..?” With hesitation since you didn’t feel confident while comparing yourself to Temari.

“Sure, I’m down.” Which really meant “I don’t deserve this.”

He really didn’t think he deserved you at all for what he did to you on that mission. It’s not like he did anything horrible but he almost did, but mid way he thought about you, thought about your future together and snapped of the bullshit he was about to do.

As you stated into his dark starry eyes you thought about what happened in the past week or so and decided to leave that behind. What was done is done and you can’t do anything about it.-

“Can i talk to you for a sec?” He took your thoughts and put them away for a second bringing your mind at ease.

“Sure?” You say and you walk off into the nearby bathroom. “What did you wanna talk about Shika?” Secretly not wanting him to answer. “Well, you know how I’ve been pretty distant lately right?” Your pretty sure your heart sank because you thought this was the end.

“Yeah what about it?” “Well I’ve gotta get something off my chest about the mission I was on, I’m so sorry just remember I love you.” “Go on with it Shika.” “Well I met this girl and, we almost had sex…” “You almost fucked someone on your mission behind my back, and expect me to believe you didn’t?.”

Tear’s threatening your eyes to come out., they weren’t sad but angry. “It’s not like that-, well maybe it is but I didn’t do it I swear.” At this point you where so full of anger and lust you just stormed out. He looked in the mirror in disappointment but soon after left as well.

Kiba had always had a small crush on you but was scared to admit it, but after he had a few shots who knows what he would do. This time you saw him staring at you and desired to walk over and give Shika a taste of his own medicine and give kiba a little show.

When you walk over to the staring kiba looking all red you start to have a small convo with him asking “do you wanna go to the closet?” He nods with excitement.

While in the closet you leave it unlocked hoping for Shikamaru to catch you in the act. Although you weren’t planning to do much since deeply you where hoping to believe the words that Shikamaru had said but you kept wondering who it was, could it have been Temari? You deeply hated Temari since she kept trying to get back together with Shika, everytime you went out with him.

When you pulled kiba into the closet Shikamaru did notice you, how could he not? He kept staring at you after your ‘chat’ in the restroom.

You and Kiba where in a make out session with you wishing it was Shikamaru but everytime you opened your eyes he wasn’t there. A knock at the door interrupted you thinking it was him once again, but as you opened the door your eyes widened in disappointment as it was just Sakura and Saskue hoping the room was empty to do something of their own.

Even though you left Kiba like a tease after they left Shika was nowhere in sight, this time really worried you did something to him and his mental state you feel a sudden tug on your wrist pulling you into the restroom once again.

“Let me go!” You pleaded as someone had pinned you to the wall. “Shush keep it down you wouldn’t want us to get caught right?” A familiar deep voice sounded in your ears as you opened your eyes to see familiar deep dark eyes filled with desire. Desire for you and only you. “Shikamaru?” You said still angry but pleading for some attention. You could feel his heavy breath knowing he had been drinking “The one and only.” “I know you think I did it and you’ve really put me through a lot today, but I’m gonna prove right now that I didn’t.”

“Shika-“ you get cut off by warm fingers on your soaked underwear. “ You need this dont you.” “I wouldn’t if you would have paid any attention to me instead of that bitch Temari.” You pouted. Shikamaru scoffed “you really think I wanna be with her more then you? She barely got me hard the most we did was oral. Nobody will ever be as pretty and beautiful as you.” He says lifting your chin up into a kiss.

You can feel the tent in his pants as you continued the deep and passionate kiss. He went under the long thin scarlet dress you wore as a bridesmaid for Hinata. I don’t think anyone would have known Shikamaru was eating you out in the bathroom of your best friends wedding out of anger and jealousy.

Seeing you with Kiba like that got him so frustrated he had to take it out on something. As he continued you tried to muffle your moans to stop, but you needed more something only Shikamaru’s growth could give you. You needed him as much as he needed you.

“Shikamaru,” you said holding back the noises escaping from your mouth. “I need more.” You pleaded as Shikamarus lips where all over your folds. You could feel the tight knot in your belly, but as soon as you go to your climax the sudden friction stops. “Do you really now?” He said with his strong deep voice vibrating through your entire body. “Yes, yes, please Shikamaru.”

As he comes out from under your dress and stands up you try to unbuckle his belt from his now tight jeans from his fully grown cock. He helps you as he’s needy too. When the belt unbuckled you pull down his boxers for his growth to spring out. “I want you so bad.” “I want you too, you can’t believe” “I didn’t mean to neglect you this badly baby.”

You lock you legs on his hips as he aligns his cock into your opening. As he shoves it in you feel full with him and the butterfly’s in your belly start to flutter. “God you feel so tight I’m never leaving you that long again” he said as he continues to thrust leaving you to start reaching your climax. He too felt the tightness begin but he wasn’t finished. You began to climax as it was reaching the end. After your climaxes ended he continued to fuck you senseless. “Where should I?” “In please I’m on birth control so it dosent matter.” You spat out.

“You were really ready for this huh?” “You made me wait for so long and it wasn’t fair.” You pouted. He began to grow his climax and as he did you could feel another one once more. “Let’s do it together.” You both came and you felt so fulfilled as you now believe he didn’t fuck that slut but instead chose to fuck you at a wedding to prove himself. As you two walked out most eyes where on you as you forgot to fix you hair and you could clearly see what you too have been doing. “Woops, Guess we where too loud huh?”

[thegingeralien]

Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).

Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.

I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!

TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:

1. Chewing gum!

- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.

2. Buying colour coded stationary!

- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!

3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.

- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.

4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.

- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.

5. Icky Medication.

- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!

6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.

- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.

- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.

- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.

- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.

7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!

- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).

-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!

- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).

- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.

8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.

- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.

9. Repetitive music.

- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.

10. Limit your screen space.

- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).

11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.

- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.

My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.

[ichor-and-symbiosis]

Breakfast Blues. (Shigaraki x f!Reader, NSFWish)

Tomura could tell something was off as soon as he entered the kitchen. Your smile felt a little too forced, your eyes a little too hopeful as you plated a bowl of rice and eggs for him, hesitating for a moment to speak. It put him in a sour mood. He didn't like having to pry answers from you.

He usually managed to swipe his breakfast away and go back to his room for privacy, but you were making this increasingly difficult for him lately. It started with inane attempts to get him into conversations with you, which really was a stupid idea, given the fact that he never mustered more than a few grunts in the morning. His growling stomach initially helped fighting you off, but you seemed to have a backbone today.

Gripping the dishes in hand, you offered him a meek smile and asked, "Would you like to eat together?"

His eyes narrowed as he frowned. "Why?" his voice croaked out, scratchy and unpleasant from disuse.

"I just thought it would be nice. You're busy a lot, so ... "

"So?" Your confidence faltered under his scrutinizing stare. Something about your dying smile made him even more irritated, or perhaps confused. And he did not like feeling confused. "I'm hungry, woman."

Sensing his displeasure, you wordlessly handed over the breakfast and looked away. Under different circumstances, Tomura liked teasing you in this state. So secretive and cute, your lips set in a stubborn pout and your chin cast downwards for him to inevitably grip and force your attention back to him.

But he was so damn hungry and he had a game loaded on his computer for his return.

Tomura turned to leave, having decided he waited enough for your comeback. It was only the glaring absence of your shuffling feet and the tinkering of cookware that made him pause for a split second at the threshold. Just a quick glance to satiate his curiosity.

You stood exactly where he left you, still looking away, hands wringing together without anything else to hold. Defeated and hurt. The sting of negative emotions welled up inside him so suddenly that he immediately took off, wishing he had a free hand to scratch his neck.

-

No amount of homecooked breakfast or countless wins could erase his lingering discontent. Tomura tried to ignore that strange encounter with you, burying his thoughts in strategies and shit-talking as he let the time slip away. But try as he might, he just couldn't shake it off. Throwing aside his game console, Tomura leered at the clock and slumped in his chair, annoyed at the realization that you hadn't visited him this whole time.

You were nowhere to be found in the apartment. A cursory glance at his phone showed him a single text from you. I'm going out with Toga. Be back later.

You didn't even send him a heart emoji.

It was a stupid thing to set him off. Everything about today was stupid. You were stupid, he was stupid, his damn neediness was stupid, even the breakfast bowls he brought to the sink were stupid. What kind of world was this, where he, Shigaraki Tomura, successor of Japan's most dangerous criminal, brought his dishes to the kitchen and moped about a goddamn heart emoji.

He needed a drink.

-

It was a testament to his bad mood that Tomura chose to walk all the way to the bar instead of asking Kurogiri to warp him there. His eyes scanned the streets in a vain attempt to track you down among the crowd, but you were nowhere to be found and he was growing anxious by the minute.

Tomura kicked the door open and hopped the counter to pilfer the expensive liquor stash. His taste gravitated towards the most expensive rum in the collection. He could certainly chase his sorrows away with cheap swill or rubbing alcohol, but if he was going to torture his body tonight, then he would do so with style. It was all worthless in the end, anyway.

He sat by himself for who knows how long. It was utterly pathetic and he knew he had better things to do, yet every time he tried to pull himself away from the counter, his head spun uncomfortably and the amber liquid beckoned him towards a numbing buzz. His phone lay abandoned on the counter, having been checked several times for a text or a phone call from you.

You hadn't even called to find out where he was. He had half a mind to wonder if you would walk through the door to surprise him, but there were only so many times he could glance at the door before the urge to disintegrate it took hold. He grabbed the rum bottle instead, messily pouring more liquor into his glass as he ignored the distortion of the air in front of him. He was in no state of mind to stare straight into Kurogiri's spinning portal. The very thought of it made him slam the bottle down and hold onto it for dear life to compose himself.

Kurogiri appeared behind the bar, quietly assessing the state of his charge. He pulled out a rag to mop up spilled liquor and eyed Tomura's heavy movements as he let go of the rum and took the glass in a white-knuckled grip.

"You are alone."

Tomura grunted, taking a swig to avoid conversation. His guardian was smart enough to immediately pick up his mood. It was both annoying and reassuring to see those golden eyes narrow in astute observation.

"It is rare for your lover to be absent."

"..."

A moment of silence. "Forgive me for being presumptuous, but you seem to be more upset than usual."

Tomura snorted. "Yeah, no shit." He stared at the rum glass in frustration, glaring at the alcohol as though it had personally offended him. His fingertips curled around the rim as he lifted the glass and swirled the liquid around, irate at the stretching silence. It was bad enough he had to deal with your petulant absence. Now he had to endure Kurogiri's calm patience, too.

His fingers gripped the glass tighter as he contemplated satisfying his urge to decay, to give him some form of release from the frustration currently plaguing him. The blaring noise of his video games would be a welcome respite from this silence. Instead, he was forced to nurse a headache while Kurogiri made him feel like a child.

All because of you. You had a hold on him even when you were gone. Perhaps even more poignant because you were gone.

"It's fucking dumb," Tomura grumbled. And it was. The situation was so unbelievably ridiculous that he clammed up again, unable to voice his problems lest he fly into a rage over the mental image of your sorrowful eyes and quivering bottom lip.

"What happened?"

"I don't even know. She's been acting weird the past week and it all blew over this morning." His leg jittered restlessly against the footrest. He crossed his leg over his thigh to regain some semblance of control, letting out a sharp sigh as he scratched his neck. "I just wanted some damn breakfast. That's all. And that woman stood there looking like I broke up with her just because I didn't want to eat with her."

"Were you doing something important?"

Oh, he did not like that question. He did not like it one bit.

"I was in the middle of gaming," Tomura growled through clenched teeth. "Don't even try to bitch at me about it."

"That was not my intention. I know how important your lifestyle is to you." Tomura stared at him, feeling his anger somehow slip through the cracks and fizzle away. Kurogiri took the whiskey bottle beside him and poured more into the emptying glass. "Has this happened before?"

"No. Sometimes she tried to keep me there longer with dumb small-talk, but she's never flat out asked. And the damn look on her face when I - " Tomura cut himself off with a frustrated growl. Your defeated expression haunted him once more. He downed the liquor in one go and reveled in the horrible burn tearing his throat apart. "What the hell does she want from me?" he forced out, staring hard into the distance as a sudden sense of shame stabbed him like a knife.

"If I may speculate ... " Kurogiri paused, waiting for his rebuke. When none came, an answer followed. "You are often preoccupied throughout the day. Perhaps she simply misses you and craves your attention."

Tomura opened his mouth and promptly closed it. A bout of dizziness hit him. Was it the alcohol or the crashing realization of how obvious the answer had been?

The logic of Kurogiri's statement was so absurdly simple that it had to be true. Because you really were just so simple. Uncomplicated in your motives, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, and always so flagrantly loving and patient with him. Tomura looked away from Kurogiri, hating how well his guardian knew not only him, but you, too.

A little flame of happiness kindled deep inside him, threatening to chase away the darkness of his bitter emotions. You hadn't been difficult on purpose this morning. You just wanted to spend time with him.

His bleary gaze settled on the monitor resting at the other end of the bar. How would his mentor react to this situation?

The silence coming from the monitor felt altogether different from what he experienced so far. It was uncomfortable and imposing, filling his ears with white noise and clouding his thoughts. Tomura stared at his reflection in the black screen and frowned, hyper-aware of the way his eyes had softened while he thought about you, the way he looked so boyish and tired.

Look at what she is turning you into, the screen seemed to say.

"Shigaraki Tomura." He tore his gaze away from his reflection and met Kurogiri's expressionless face. "Is it a weakness to enjoy feeling wanted?"

His brows furrowed in thought.

-

Tomura made up with you in the most typical fashion. That is to say, he cornered you at home and snuffed out any further talk by devouring your lips with incessant kisses, taking you right on the living room couch and stalking after you to your bedroom for more. It was a love language he knew best, letting you feel his feverish desire with every deep thrust, the firm iron grip of his hands on your soft hips and thighs, his groans and whispered demands for more of you, more of your tight heat and your gentle fingers outlining his scars, touching his rough lips, nails digging into his back as you mewl for more of him.

You were hellfire. There was no liquor strong enough in the world to burn him half as much as his need to tell you he loved you. The words clawed and tore at his chest, inflamed his throat until he choked on them, forcing him to spit out twisted versions of the truth. Cowardly, pathetic half-truths about how you belonged to him, how you were his and his alone.

And you still smiled at him for it. You took all that he gave you and asked for so little in return.

Is it a weakness to enjoy feeling wanted?

The question plagued him throughout the night as your arms held him close, his head pillowed on your chest while he listened to your soft breathing and felt the beat of your heart whispering an answer he could not decipher.

-

Tomura awoke to your absence. It was not a rare occurrence. The split-second paranoia washing over him was not rare, either. He ran from that feeling many times before, immediately sick at the thought of how lonely he felt without you. It was pathetic. He should not feel this way about anyone. He should feel empty, as though you were just a moment of entertainment, an experience to be had and a level to beat in the game of life.

But you were well past that point now. Whether or not he could say it aloud, Tomura was in love. So if you wanted to have breakfast together, then you had better prepare yourself for his morning attitude.

He caught you a little early this time. You were in the middle of stirring an omelette when he crept up behind you, jolting in surprise as he pressed himself to your back and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Good morning," you greeted him, giving him a peck on the cheek. A light smile played on your lips. "I'm almost done."

Tomura purred a noncommittal response and curled his fingers around your jaw, angling your head back to capture your mouth in a lazy kiss. Your pleased sigh broke off into a stilted noise as he dipped his tongue inside and made sure you felt every slow lick and suck to your lips. His arm tightened in response to you melting against him, mentally debating whether he should let you finish cooking or to find the nearest surface to defile.

A sizzling pop from the frying pan caught your attention. You kissed him hard and returned to your duty, using your spatula to roll the omelette into shape. Your tongue peaked out from your reddened lips as you made a face of mild disgust. "You didn't brush, nasty."

"Didn't stop you though," Tomura countered, grinning at your wry expression.

You spooned the cooked food onto a nearby plate and cracked another egg into the pan. He waited for your invitation, good mood dampening by the second as you settled into your routine without another word. It was an expected reaction, to be fair. He hurt you yesterday and now he was paying for it.

Your questioning glance put him on alert. "Do you need something else?"

He wracked his brain for a response. Something that could keep him here longer without raising further suspicion. "Orange juice."

"It's in the fridge. Can you pour me some, too?"

Tomura forced himself to detach from you, taking his time to complete the task as he watched your progress from the corner of his eye. Cups placed on the table. Orange juice poured at a strategically slow rate. By the time he finished, your breakfast had been plated and you left it unattended to hurriedly put the forgotten box of eggs back into the fridge. Tomura used this distraction to take both plates to the table, setting yours across from him as he plopped down onto the chair and began to eat.

You caught on as soon as the fridge door closed. Tomura could feel your stare on him while he downed the orange juice. He glanced at you nonchalantly, eyebrow raised as though you were the one behaving abnormally.

"You're joining me?" you asked, a hint of hope coloring your voice as you sat down.

"Clearly."

You smiled so sweetly that he felt his heart stammer and restart. "Wow. Can I get you to eat some fruits while we're at it?"

"Don't push your luck," he grumbled, and that was the end of that.

Tomura silently listened to your happy chatter and the clanging of silverware on plates, wondering how the hell he found himself in domestic bliss. Sunlight streamed through the nearby window and illuminated your entire being, heightening your inner glow. You looked beautiful and peaceful. It calmed him far more than you could ever know.

Did he feel weak as he basked in your attention? Did he feel weak, knowing that you wanted him beside you even for the most mundane things?

The answer was undeniable.

He felt strong.

Different from the power trip he thrived on when he succeeded in yet another level.

Different from the sadistic glee he felt when the nomu followed his command.

Different from the sense of duty plaguing his mind when his teammates looked to him for direction.

This inner sense of peace steadied his mind and cleared his thoughts. How could it be weakness when he would tear the world apart for you?

The soft tap of your foot on his knee drew his attention to you. "This was nice," you softly said. "Next time I'll leave a trail of takoyaki outside your room so you can join me for lunch."

He huffed a dry laugh. "Make me botamochis and you got yourself a deal."

"You'll eat sweets made from red beans but not a single fruit ... " You innocently popped another strawberry into your mouth. "Not even these strawberries ... "

"Get over here and give me a taste then," he growled, settling back in his chair with a clear invitation of his own.

You accepted without delay.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia Ch 19

Your bags were jumping and sliding around in the back of Madeline's rusty pickup truck. She had been kind enough to offer you a ride up to the lodge when she stopped by the shop earlier.

Madeline had seen the sour look Nate kept sending you and how you were intentionally not looking over towards the soon to be graying young man. Not one to beat around the bush she asked what was up, mam bear mode peeking through.

Nate was just being a dick to you and saying you had to stay with the Cowells longer than what had originally been agreed to. Big Jo seemed fine about letting you go back home now, even with your resolve set to continue hanging out with Toby. But Nate was trying to put a tight leash on you since you “wouldn't listen to reason” - so he said.

Even with security at the cottage updated Nate still thought it best to keep you with them if you were planning to still interact with Toby. More than likely he was trying to make that harder for you to do since staying with them would definitely make it easier for him to keep track of you.

The thought alone set shivers down your spine. Like a constrictor slithering up your back to rest around your neck and do what it does best.

It had been really hard to breathe these last few days.

But all Madeline needed to hear was “Nate” and “being a dick” before she said she'd take you herself. Thereby ending the conversation and silent argument in the shop, as she spun on her heel stating when she'd pick you up later.

Nate hadn't been too happy about the exchange but he could suck your dick. He's been annoying you with all this Toby bullshit and doesn't get to tell you what he thinks right now.

The drive up is silent, but that comfortable kind of silence between two old friends who don't ever really have a need to talk to hang out. It's nice because it gives you tons of time to think about just what you're about to do.

Going over several scripts all at once in your head.

You want to talk to Toby. You still haven't read that file but it just doesn't sit right with you that it was ever even given to you in the first place. Toby being completely unaware of the total breech of privacy makes your stomach flip just like your bags in the back right now. It's not like you ever asked for the detailed life file but at the same time it feels wrong not to let Toby know tht something like that even exists for him. His past being dug back up all without his knowledge or consent. And now here you were about to lay it right down in front of him.

Was this the right move? You're the one bringing it to his attention, if it's something that will mess him up it'll be your fault that he's upset. Jo and Nate may have gotten the information but you still count yourself as being a complacent party to all of this.

Your stomach feels like it's on a drop tower as it sinks further into a pit of guilt.

You feel like the scum of the Earth right now. Hopefully he isn't too upset.

Seeing your downcast eyes, you were a lot more expressive than you ever really realized, Madeline pipes up, “You gon' be ok there sport?”

A small smile bit at your lips. There's a reason Madeline Cobb was known in Kepler as Mama. She took care of those she saw as her own and that was damn near half the town at this point. Hell you'd heard a rumor she raised most this town. The lodge had been her orphanage  before all the kids grew up and turned it into a resort once new arrivals stopped coming. That's probably the reason it's always been so warm and welcoming, it was a home first.

“Yea...just nervous.”

She lets out a small chuckle at you.

“Don' be, 'm sure that Toby boy will say 'yes'. And if he don' well you just come find me. I'll set him right.”

Ok now you were just confused.

“Huh?”

“Don' worry about it, he likes you jus' like you like 'im. It'll work out for you two.” she reaches over and ruffles your hair before jumping out of the pickup. You hadn't realized you were already at your destination.

And it was too late to correct Mama, she'd already made it inside the lodge, about why you were so nervous. The warmth in your face makes you even more grateful for your mask. Barclay was getting bit by the end of the night, the man really needed to get a boyfriend and stop trying to manifest one for you.

The door to the lodge opens again, you hardly paid it any mind. So lost in your own musing you didn't even notice the man walking towards you. Your goat plush had fallen beneath your seat and you were attempting to grab it but it was too far out of your reach.

“You good there?” Toby's amused voice calls, startling you.

Popping your head out of the opened car door. Heart racing faster at the sight of your friend standing there with a small smirk on his bandaged face. You weren't ready for this.

His eye looks better, well like a normal black eye and not a swollen lump that threatened to over take his socket. Now his eye looked like it could still function out of the slight opening. Fuck this was hard enough when you'd pictured only one eye looking at you but now you had to calculate for both!?

Is it weird that this is what worries you? Are you derailing from the actual situation? Distracting yourself so the conversation is easier on you. So you don't have to think about the possibility that Toby won't want to be friends after this. That he'll end up hating you for something you hadn't done.

God you really want to cry.

“Hey, space cadet.” Toby's made his way over to your side and puts a gentle hand on you knee, “You ok? Did something happen?”

He's really sweet, you're going to miss him.

No, stop. You need to get a grip and stop thinking like this. Toby will understand and you guys can continue being friends, a bit awkwardly but still friends. You'd get to hang out and maybe wander through the Monongahela together.

“I...I dropped my goat.”

He cocks his head to the side, brows slowly smoothing out and he gives a gentle squeeze to your legs as he reaches under you, hand searching for your lost plush.

The warmth that was once collecting in your cheeks shoots down past the void sitting in your stomach. Just another thing to add to your list you suppose. After a week of nearly no privacy or comfort you are thoroughly pent up. You don't necessarily want Toby, just need someone or something to help relieve the fire between your thighs. He just happens to be in proxcimity of that fire, poking the flame that hasn't been snuffed during your stay with the Cowells, making it dance and writhe reminding you of the need.

But you can't focus on that yet, you'd give yourself a hand when you finally got back home. Right now you needed to focus on Toby. And having that uncomfortable conversation.

“Here he is.” placing the goat in your lap he looks into your eyes, a slight glint in his.

He's in a really good mood tonight. You have to ignor the whispers in your head, telling you you're about to ruin this for him.

Luckily a tic to the right shoos those thoughts away for you.

“YN?” his hand is back on your knee, it's such a small gesture maybe even completely subconscious but it helps ground you.

You haven't read that file but you can't see Toby ever doing something awful enough to warrant Nate's barrage of paranoia and fear. Even if he did....he couldn't still be bad right? You're such a good judge of character and you called Brian on his masking there's no way you'd miss Toby lying to your face.

“I...” he's looking into your eyes searching as you take a steadying breath, “I just really need a slushie right now.” your eyes drop to the goat in your hands.

You fucking coward.

It's silent for a moment as you chastise yourself for not just coming out and telling Toby you wanted to talk. Toby's hand falls easily from your knee and to his side.

“A'right then, you good to drive?” you really missed your chance here, “'cuz Brian's got Connor tonight.”

Wait what?

You look at Toby who simply raises the right side of his mouth in a lopsided grin. A subtle raise of his right brow tells you he understood what you'd asked for. When was the last time anyone was ever able to read you so well?

“Yes!” you push the goat into Toby's chest and practically dive into the back seat for your bags. “I can drive. Franklin?”

“Don't work tomorrow, so sure.”

His good mood seems to pick back up a bit. He's chuckling as you rush to gather everything and head over to your car, barely shutting Mama's door as you do. Toby gives it a good bump with his hip to make sure it shut properly. He unlocks your car for you and slides into the passenger's seat while you arrange your shit in the trunk.

You catch sight of the skull still in your trunk and figure you'll just leave it as is for now. Since it seems that literally every time you close this trunk you forget it exists. Bye weirdly placed deer skull maybe one day you'll have a wall mount worthy of your beauty.

Before closing the trunk you do rab the file. Maybe having it up front with you will help you actually tell Toby about it.

When you open the driver's side Toby's hand is already outstretched and waiting for your phone, this isn't his first rodeo after all. You can't help but smile as you hand it right over to him. He notices, because of course he does, and beams back at you. Sending more warmth throughout your body. After collecting your emotions the guilt comes back around.

You need to stop being horny on main. And in front of Toby no less. It's weird, like you're riled up for him and not because you're attention starved and haven't known solitude for over a week.

By the time you're driving off the lot Toby had picked you 'Let's drive to nowhere' playlist. A perfect choice for tonight, seeing as these are all either songs to dissociate to or have mental break downs with. And with you obnoxious emotions either is up for grabs. Aside from the music the car was silent as you drove out of town.

You were so wrapped up in what to say to Toby, how to say it, when – that you ended up not saying anything at all. Toby on the other hand couldn't wait for you any longer and broke the silence himself.

A habit he seems to have, must not like silences.

“Normally you don't shut up,” the words were harsh but his tone wasn't for once.

He watches as the scenery changes from quaint country road to interstate. “Did something happen?”

An awkward anxious smile makes its way on to your face. You've never been good at schooling your features and smiling was unfortunately your default in the even of confrontation. It was probably just your brain's way of protecting you from emotional trauma.

“Sorta.”

To his credit Toby waits for three full songs before prying for more information.

“Another attack?” he's on edge.

To be fair you are too.

“No, like hell Jo and Nate wo-would let me leave if that were it.” your head jerks twice to the right. You miss Toby's wince.

Nate barely let you leave the shop today, you had to get outside assistance aka Mama.

“Ok, so what happened then?” as you bit your lip trying to find your words Toby is running through his own list of possibilities. “Dis Ma- Tim do something to you?”

Huh?

Why would Tim have anything to do with this? Are they still fighting? But Brian has Connor tonight...that doesn't seem likely but you've really only hung out with Toby thus far. You don't know enough about their group dynamic.

You also didn't miss the beginning syllable Toby said. Was he trying to say 'Matt', 'Mark', 'Manny'? There were so many names that Tim's alter could have but at the least you've more or less been told there is an alter to begin with.

But why would Toby be concerned about Tim's alter? Was he the one that punched Toby? Were they actually the two fighting and not Tim and Toby? This is confusing just being on the outside, you have no idea how the trio copes with this situation.

“Oh no, Tim and Not Tim have been nice to me.” if you're coming clean about the file might as well come clean about knowing Tim has an alter. This way Toby could pass along the message to Tim and Not Tim.

“Back up, not liter-mrrow – literally. 'Not Tim'? You've met Mas-Ma-Masky?!”

Masky? That's a strange name, but who were you to judge the name someone gave themself. Maybe he's a He/Him enby.

“Not like formally or anything, but I'm pretty sure he was the one that helped me and Ronnie out the other week.” you switch lanes to drive off of the interstate, hoping to find a secluded road to have this conversation on.

God knows it's going to take all of your concentration.

Toby was seething in his seat and you know the tension is only going to get worse going forward.

You can hear him muttering to himself, 'of course' or 'he didn't remember', over and over. Finding a good place to park the car you take it and turn to Toby, who's still lost in his own head.

“Tobias.” you call trying to jostle him and it works a little too well in a sense. As he blurts out, “Don't! Masky's dangerous stay away from him!”

He immediately freeze like he hadn't meant to say that. And while it wasn't a tic it was probably an impulse brought on by his anxious frame of mind. He's popping his knuckles again too.

You don't know why you said it, looking at Toby's wide blown pupils – riddled with fear and nerves, you should've kept you mouth shut.

“Dangerous like you?”

Or at least phrased that a bit more eloquently.

Toby's eyes grow dark and his good eye cuts low nearly matching it's swollen twin. A shiver runs down your spine even though you know the malice is not for you.

“What.” he hisses out.

It's not a question, it's an order. He wants to know what you know and maybe even who told you. Maybe he thinks Masky told you something, since that was the topic of the previous conversation.

Dark eyes watch you like a hawk as you pull the file from the map holder in your door. His chest is nearly heaving with every breath at this point, can he hyperventilate? That's a dumb question he most certainly can. And he's either on his way to that or a panic attack. You hope you don't send him into a panic attack, Connor's not here to help. Connor know pressure though, Toby's had him preform it on you during your spells. Would it work the same if you laid on top of Toby? You're getting too distracted right now.

Not trusting yourself to not just back down now, you hold the folder out to Toby to take.

He's just staring at it like it'll attack him at any moment, and honestly it might...just not physically. He glances up at you. There's a funny flash of deja vu likening back to the first time you met. Cold indifferent and confused eyes looking at you as though you were some strange alien they'd never seen before. This time however there's a spark of something else in them. Something dark that festers beneath the surface. Was that hatred, betrayal, or was that the wall he was building back up. The wall that would sever this friendship.

Stop projecting. He hasn't even taken the file, he can't possibly know what's going on right now.

“What's that?” see.

“Nate got super protective after the attack, I guess the other day you just like rubbed him the wrong way. So, he had someone look into you. That file is everything they found...pretty sure it's your whole life, I swear I haven't read anything. Not even a peek. But Jo and Nate tried to tell me the-”

He snatched the file from you before you'd even said you hadn't looked. He opened it and a second later it was closed and he took a shaky breath before looking at you.

It was your turn to look like a deer in headlights tonight, you knew that breath was one of barely concealed rage. This was it, this was where everything ended, all because Nate had “a bad feeling” about Toby.

But you trusted Toby, he wouldn't hurt you. He was your friend.

“So” he lets out a harsh sigh, “you didn't...you haven't read anything?”

You hastily shake your head, “What did they tell you.” he looks off to the side and his mouth is all screwed up, and not in it's normal mangled sense.

“That I shouldn't see you anymore, you did something bad, awful, terrifying; Nate's list goes on but I sort of...fo the fingers in the ear 'lalala' thing” you say sheepishly, “anytime he tries to tell me something. Jo stops when I ask him to. He's not too worried about you...I think.”

Or he's working behind the scene to keep you and Toby separated for the long run but that's speculation and not the point of this conversation so you don't mention it.

Toby's flipping through the file skimming it, no doubt looking for his checkered past, he finds what he's looking for and nods once continuing on like he was reading a grocery list. Which he may as well have been, a grocery list of all his transgressions. With the way his fingers gripped the edges of the folder you could tell he was putting on a front about the contents.

They did bother him.

“Why didn't you look, why didn't you listen YN?” was he seriously angry at you for that?

“It was an invasion of your privacy. Whatever's in there I wanted you to have the ability to tell me on your own terms – if you ever even wanted to. Not because you were forced into it because I found out from some third party that doesn't even know you.”

“Then why the fuck did you -wrong- practically jump into a car with me and then hand me a file on my shitty life!?!” He slammed the file down into his lap with a lot of force, more than he should have used for sure. “They think I'm a menace and they're right you shouldn't have...you need to...” he trails off looking like he's trying to disintegrate the file in front of him with latent laser eye abilities.

His arms are shaking.

No – he's trembling. The way he's biting his lip tips you off. He's trying to hold himself together, trying to stop himself from breaking. This can't be the same person Nate's so worried about.

“You're biting your lip, that's not good for you.”

“Fuck off.” it's half hearted at best, no real weight behind the words. And he does let his abused lip go.

“It's a breech of trust if I didn't tell you this...I wanted to give you the file because you should know it's been read by two people, to my knowledge.” you place a hand on his forearm, “Toby, I don't know what you've done in the past but...you know you aren't that person now, right?”

He's out of the car in an instant, slamming the door behind him. You follow, as dumb as you understand it is, getting out of your car in the middle of no where with a very unstable person.

“Get back in the car. I mrrow I can't...I need a minute.” his shaking is so much worse now that he's standing, It's even put a tremble in his voice.

“You're stupid if you think I'm leaving you alone in the middle of no where.” you stand your ground, he may need space but this is not the place to have it. You're only a few miles from town, you can get him back to the lodge where he doesn't have to see or be near you.

Hell you won't say a word on the way back.

“Like you're not stupid for ignoring the warnings that I'm dangerous! I've killed people! Did you know that?! Did you even think that's what was so bad!?” he's giving you the same glare he had on when he talked about the fight with Tim.

“I could literally kill you right now, you've driven us out to who knows where but still remained in walking distance back to town. You live on the outskirts of it and it'd be so easy for me to make you disappear and everyone would believe your stalkers got to you.” his chest heaves at a vicious rate.

Despite the venom and truth of his words, you can't find it in you to be scared of him. If anything his rant proves Toby must not have been mentally well during his crimes, he's acting like a cornered alley cat not a serial killer. There's a vice grip on you heart at the thought.

“Ok...are you?”

It's like a switch has been flipped in him and he calms instantly.

“What?” he knows what you're asking.

“Are you going to kill me?” you asked like you'd been asking what time it was.

He stares at you looking you up and down, “No...I wouldn't.” his neck jerks triggering your own tic.

“Then I'm safe.” you slowly approach him, much like you would a feral alley cat. “I trust you Tobias.” you reach out to tough his arm again.

It hadn't worked in the car but Toby does seem to calm down faster when he's being touched. Like the sensation brings him back to reality and locks him there.

“Y-you shouldn'n'n't.”

He doesn't pull away this time as you place your hands gently on his forearms. His eyes raise to meet yours.

“...I've killed.”

He sounds so helpless.

The only thing you find shocking about this is that he actually did it. You know people are capable of all sorts of vile things. But the way Toby's voice breaks, the tremors that run through his body. You can't see any similarity with the horror show you once imagined, a Toby covered head to toe in blood and a vicious grin.

The fact that Toby killed doesn't really phase you much more than the ever present 'how' that rings out. He must have had a reason. Jo wasn't too worried so maybe it was circumstantial. Not to mention Toby's among the general public. Could it have just been an accident? A misunderstanding?

“I don't – no I'm not going to say 'I don't care', because this is something that really effects you but I...I guess what I'm trying to get at is..it doesn't bother me. I know it should but, Tobias I just can't picture you as a murderer.” that blood stained Toby flashes before you singing 'liar', “I got to know you before finding out any of this. So, I know there must've been a reason behind it. And that's...and you don't have to tell me anything.”

Nothing more is said, after all you've said everything you could think of to deescalate the situation. And Toby is frozen as he stares at you. You'd have thought he was dissociating had it not been for the way his eyes still held that tiny reflection of light. He was still present, just unsure how to proceed.

Honestly you were stumped too, you had no idea how to begin this conversation let alone end it.

“My – there was...” you rub his arm in a small circular motion. You don't need to hear anything more, it already feels like too much information that he'd lost the agency for.

But your gentle shushing did nothing because he continued, “Clairse says I had a psychotic break and...just went after the biggest stressor at the time.” he pauses with a deep breath and closes his eyes in the process. “She says it wasn't really my fault, I was under...a lot of – I wasn't there, where I should've been mentally. My dad was abusive...anyone in my situation would've broken at some point.”

His words are hollow and robotic. A mantra he's learned to say although he doesn't believe it.

You'd normally give someone the choice but this time you just slip you arms over his shoulders and pull him into a hug. There's no resistance from him either, if anything he leans into the embrace and grips onto your back. His trembling doesn't stop but it's softened by the pressure.

“You don't have to tell me anything Tobes. I don't want you to...not if it's this painful.”

“I want – want to tell you about Lyra.” his voice cracks in tandem with his neck as he says her name.

And he does tell you, against all your protests to take his time. He tells you everything laid out his whole life right in front of you. From being home schooled early on – isolated within his own home for years, to his older sister and her untimely accident that he's still clearly wracked with guilt about, and then the spiral that ended in patricide and a fire that ate his entire neighborhood.

By the end of his recounting he'd stopped trembling and letting out the occasional sniffle – and now the two of you were leaning on the hood of your car. Looking at the stars that just started coming out for the night, you occasionally whispered affirmations to Toby as he tells more stories from his childhood. The good ones this time.

His spirits aren't as high as they were when you'd started your evening but they're much better than they were two hours ago.

You chuckle as he finishes telling you about the time he and Lyra managed to sneak out of the house for a concert only to realize they had no way of getting back into the house when they returned. Their mom just opened the door letting them inside with a small crease in her brow but the smile that played at her lips told them everything they'd needed to know. They weren't in trouble, she'd sent them off to bed and in the morning asked how the show was. From the way Toby talked about his mom you can tell he really loves her. The feeling must've been mutual, if she sent them off to bed instead of dishing out a punishment all because Toby had smiled for the first time in weeks that night.

“Ah, favorite child Toby strikes again.” you joke.

This time Toby didn't say anything, you had been throwing small jokes in to help keep the mood light, but he just looked at you with his head tilted. A grim expression barely crossed his features before being replaced with a lopsided smile and warm but sad eyes.

“Y'kn – Kyra used to say that all the time.”

“Must be true then.”

He looks at his hands with the softest expression you've ever seen. It's an expression normally given to Connor, just sadder this time.

You nudge him getting his attention back to the present.

“You still want that slushie?”

He takes a moment to look around you and finally rests his gaze on the stars. “Not Franlin, not tonight.” he says focusing back on to you.

“Think we're two exits from Riverton if that helps. They have Wawas.”

“Wawas?” he chuckles.

You nod, “Yea they have smoothies and milkshakes.”

“Ooh la la.”

You both snort and head back into the car. It's surreal to be buckling back in, joking around with Toby when just hours prior you thought you'd be ending your friendship the moment you opened your mouth.

You can't help but ask, “Are we cool?”

“Yea...we're good. 's not like you fucking asked for the information.” he leans his head against the window and crosses his arms into himself.

“I'm still sorry about it though.”

“Know you are. But it's over now.” the finality of that statement takes the weight off of your shoulders. For the first time in days you can breathe again.

“Thanks for telling me everything...you didn't have to. But I appreciate you sharing it with me.”

His nails dig into his arms, or they would have if they weren't chopped down to the bit.

“I mrrow I-I didn't tell you everything...”

Nope this was over and done with, no more sad and scared Toby. You couldn't handle anymore, guilt had found a friend in discomfrot and the two had set out to eat you alive with every tremor that tore through Toby's body.

“What are you like a child murderer or something?” Giving a laugh to soften the joke.

….

You missed the way Toby tenses and sucks in a breath. His heart is beating wildly in his chest, so hard he's certain you hear it. Is that where you draw the line? Child murder. Of course you had to have some boundaries he couldn't just expect you to be cool with everything he's done. You were sure to figure it out sooner or later no thanks to your boss. But Toby couldn't loose you now. Not when you've been an anchor he hasn't had in such a long time. He feels almost human again when he's with you.

He's been quiet too long, at least he thinks he has. He needs to say something, joke around back and dismiss the notion. You can't know not now – maybe not ever.

“I'm trans!” he hadn't meant to blurt that out.

He stared at you with wide eyes. Why had he said that, that hadn't even crossed his mind. Just as he was about to laugh it off you reached over and lightly punched him in the arm. That small gesture sent a tickle down Toby's spine. It was such an innocent touch, but he was touched starved and knew it.

“I am too goof. Thanks for telling me but why the wait?”

Fuck now he had to think of something. Talking to you always made him so brain dead.

“Mrrow...mrr-you saw me as a man first...I wanted to keep it that way.” maybe he didn't have to make something up, just tell you the half truth.

Brian had questioned him when they got ready for the picnic why he hadn't worn his trans tie dye shirt and he's said he misplaced it. A bold lie to tell someone like Brian, especially since it'd been a gift from his mom. She had sent it in a care package last June. He'd never loose something his mom gave him, at least not so quickly. If he'd been being honest with himself at the time, he was worried about your reaction. Of course he knew you were trans too so not like you'd be one to be a transphobe, but he didn't want you to stop seeing him as a man and only see him as trans.

“Toby, you are a man. Nothing short of you telling me otherwise will change that for me.”

Toby isn't sure when you grabbed his hand but he's aware of your hold when you start to rub along his knuckles. He watches your thumb circle jis joints and pressing a bit into the divots as he takes another deep breath.

He gives his best smile, a lopsided uncomfortable looking thing, “I don't think I like when you call me Toby.”

[ahopelessromantic]

I’m yours, you’re mine ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer x reader

Word count: 3,2k

Prompts: 10, “I’m pregnant; 16, “Marry me.”; 30, “You want a family with me?”

Warnings: slight angst, pregnancy, Spencer is a whole baby and a half

You’re ready to take the next step in your relationship. The question is: Is Spencer? 

(I loved writing this so much and could maybe even imagine writing a part two, tell me if that’s something you’d like!)

“Good morning, everyone.” Hotch’s greeting for the morning only came through to you as a faint echo. He was giving out the details of you team’s newest case as clear as always, but to you it sounded like his voice came from a distance. Instead of paying attention to him all you could to was to stare straight ahead, trying to force down the wave of nausea threatening to overcome you. Why was everything spinning? For a moment you thought you had gotten it under control.But then a waft of Emily’s morning coffee hit your nose and you felt your stomach turn. “(Y/N), can you work the victimology?” Of course, just in that moment you were addressed. “Sure- “ You started to answer before you felt your breakfast rise into your throat. “Coming up right after I’ve coughed up my lungs.”, was the only thing you managed to yelp out before you sprinted to the nearest toilet.

The cold bathroom tiles beneath your knees almost felt like a sweet relief while your stomach painfully clenched around itself. Once there was nothing left to throw up anymore you leaned against the wall of the bathroom stall, trying to calm down your breathing. Somehow, you felt even worse than you normally felt after throwing up. You heard someone enter the toilets and then a knock sounded against your door. “Honey, are you okay?” It was JJ, and not bothering to get up you just unlocked the door for her to get in. You nodded at her, wiping away the tears on your face. She looked at you worriedly. “Did you eat something wrong? I know Garcia’s sushi orders can be weird.” You chuckled but shook your head. “Nah, I’ve been feeling off for weeks. This was the first time I had to throw up though.” JJ kneeled down across from you, closing the door behind her. She held out a paper towel to you which you gratefully took, not missing the weird look she was giving you. “You know...” She started to speak, unsure of how to bring her words across without upsetting you. “When I was pregnant with Henry, I felt awful for weeks before I realised what was going on. I constantly felt dizzy, and the worst was looking at all the crime scene photos every day.” You felt your eyes widen with every word she spoke. Normally, you only felt this weird around the time of your period, but now thinking back you realised that you hadn’t bled in some time. A pregnancy definitely made more sense to you now than a very resilient stomach bug. “Hey, (Y/N), don’t pass out on me now!”JJ warned, shaking you out of your trance. >You had probably only gotten paler the more the realisation had sunken in. “Jayje, shit, I think you might be right.” She sent you a gentle smile and squeezed your shoulder. “Should I go get you a test?” You felt tears well up in your eyes at her kindness. “Thank you, but no. I think I’ll actually head home and do it there. I just need some time to… I don’t know, mentally prepare for whatever the result will be.”

Once your legs felt stable enough to walk again you went up to Hotch’s office to ask for the day off, which he thankfully allowed. You really needed to lie down and sleep for a few years. On your way out of the office Spencer stopped you in your tracks, the worried look on his pretty face even worse than everyone else’s. Pulling you close, he held the back of his hand to your forehead. “You’ve got a fever. Come on, I’ll drive you home.” You took his hand from your forehead, pressing a kiss against it. “I’m fine Spence. Go back to work.” But he just shook his head and went ahead to the elevator. “No discussion. I’m not letting you drive like this.” A soft smile on your face you followed him, forever grateful to have him. “Take a nap, and maybe eat something. Okay?” He told you after dropping you off at your shared apartment. You nodded. “I’ll try.” He sent you one last worried look, as if he was trying to assess whether or not he could actually leave you home alone in this state. Finally, he just nodded to himself. “Alright. Call me if you need something.” Spencer pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.” He murmured and left through the door; gaze trained on you on his whole way out. You mouthed the words back to him, only able to fully relax once he was gone. You needed a plan, some tea and, well, a pregnancy test.

After a quick trip to the pharmacy down the street you sat down with a cup of your favourite tea, caught in a very intense staring battle with the pregnancy test’s cardboard box. You for yourself knew that one day, at some point in your life, you wanted to have kids.And considering the fact that you hoped to spend the rest of our life with Spencer by your side, him being the father of your children would probably only be practical. So far you had just never brought it up with him, somehow sure it was going to be a sensible topic for him.

But sitting there now, the test in front of you, made you wish you had brought it up at some point. What if he absolutely didn’t want kids of his own and you were actually pregnant? Would he break up with you? Oh god, he was going to break up with you. Now more than ever needing certainty you got up, grabbed the test and disappeared into the bathroom. The time you had to wait for the results only passed excruciatingly slow, and by the time your phone’s timer went off you had already chewed off half your nails. With a mixture of fear and excitement you looked at the little screen. A little happy emoticon smiled back at you, taking your breath away. You were pregnant. “Holy shit.” You gasped out, sinking down on the rim of your bathtub. “I’m going to be a mom.”

“(Y/N)?” Spencer called out through the apartment later that day, closing the front door behind him. “Bedroom!” You told him, feeling your hands starting to tremble once again. “Hey.” Your boyfriend smiled, peeking his head through the door. The sight of his smile somewhat calmed your nerves. “How are you doing?” He asked calmly after sitting down by your side on the bed.

You straightened up to lean against him, burying your face in his neck. “Better.” You mumbled against his warm skin, taking in his scent of cologne and books. “Still feel dizzy though.” He pushed your hair out of your face, looking down on you softly. “Do you want to eat something? I bought soup.” A large smile grew on your face. If he wanted the baby he was going to be an amazing father. But you needed some more time with your Spencer, before you took the risk of losing him over something serious like this. “I’d love some soup.” You smiled. “Can you go ahead and heat it up for me? I want to get changed before I eat.” Without a word of protest, he left for the kitchen, giving you a moment to collect your thoughts. Then you got up, got changed, and made sure the test was hidden somewhere he would never look.

During the next two weeks the nausea finally began to ease up on you, and a visit to the doctor’s office had only confirmed what the pregnancy test had told you: You were about nine weeks pregnant with a healthy baby, whose heartbeat you had even already been able to hear. Oddly, since hearing your little bean’s heartbeat, you felt a lot more certain and happy about the situation you were in. Of course, you still had to somehow tell Spencer, and you more than anything in the world hoped that he was going to be on board with it. But you were going to be a mom with or without him. You had talked to Hotch and asked him to put you on desk duty for the time being, not exactly telling him what was going on. He had just been too happy to have someone do the paperwork to question your motives. But Spencer, who knew how much you loved being out in the field, was starting to notice the changes in your behaviour. You had managed to act like everything was fine for a while, but even though your boyfriend was sometimes clueless he was still a genius.

“(Y/N), honey, can we… talk?” He hesitantly asked you at work in your tenth week of pregnancy. He had pulled you aside into a storage room for files, hoping to get a moment alone with you. You sent him a nervous smile. “Sure, uh, what’s up?” He sighed. “You know what’s up, (Y/N). The problem is that I don’t, and it’s starting to drive me insane. Are you going to break up with me?” You had been so caught up in your own head the past weeks that you hadn’t paid enough attention to your boyfriend, and it was only now that you realised how tired and frightened he looked. You were both idiots, so afraid of losing each other that you would even avoid resolving everything because it meant having to talk it out. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. “You might want to sit down.” You spoke softly, gesturing to the deserted old desk in the middle of the room. Spencer looked at you, shadows darkening his face, but still sat down. “What’s going on, (Y/N)? Are you…” His eyes widened. “Are you sick?” You slowly shook your head. “No, not exactly. Spence, I need you to know that I love you, okay? I love you more than anything in the world, and I just really didn’t know how to tell you.” He looked at you, wide hazel eyes trained on you, head moving in a barely visible nod. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat. “I’m pregnant.” You finally spoke, voice wavering. Spencer completely froze up. For a whole moment he didn’t move, scaring you that he might pass out. But then he cleared his throat, lowering his gaze to the floor. “I understand.” He mumbled. You frowned in confusion. “What?” “You don’t want to keep it. I understand that.” Shocked, you stepped closer to where he was sitting on the table. “What? No, honey! I want to have this baby.” His eyes bolted up to look at you. You could see the gears in his head turning, his big brain trying to make sense of the situation. “But... I’m an ex junkie. Schizophrenia runs in my family. My own dad abandoned me; I have no idea how to be a father. I’m the last person who should have a child.” You felt tears well up in your eyes at his words. Did he really feel that way about himself? You knew he doubted himself on the regular, you had made it your job to build him back up whenever the doubts kicked in, but this was a whole new level of self-depreciation. Didn’t he know that he was just as deserving of happiness as everyone else? “Spencer.” You uttered, cupping his face in your hands. “The risk of our baby becoming schizophrenic is less than ten percent. That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He looked up to you from his seat, a desperate look in his hazel eyes. “But (Y/N)-“ He tried to plead but you interrupted him. “My love. You are the only person I could see myself doing this with. You’re compassionate, kind, intelligent, and no one knows me the way you do. I’ve seen you with kids, they love you. You understand them. If anyone should get to be a father, it’s you. And I want this, us. I want us to take this step.” He looked up at you in wonder, his eyes glistening suspiciously. “You want a family with me?” You laughed, finally allowing your tears to fall. “Yes.” You hushed, pressing your lips to his. “I want you, I want us, and I want this baby.” He stood up, engulfing you in the warmest hug. You could hear him sniffling but decided to give him this. He needed to cry without being seen for a moment. “I love you.” He finally choked out after pulling away to look at you, placing a hand on your stomach. You knew then that his words weren’t only for you anymore.

The two of you waited until the three-month mark to tell the rest of the team. You assembled all of them in the bullpen after a long day of work and told them as straightforward as possible, both nervously standing next to each other. All of them erupted into laughter and happy words of congratulation and you could swear you had even seen Garcia shed a tear or two. Another baby in the BAU. Amidst the chaos of everyone smothering you in hugs, you didn’t see Spencer pull Morgan aside, the two of them in a short, quiet conversation until Derek clapped your boyfriend on the shoulder with a bright grin. Even Hotch had hugged you, jokingly telling you that the paperwork was yours for the next few months. Your team’s reaction to the news only made you look forward to the changes to come even more, and you couldn’t be happier. Little baby Reid was going to be so loved.

“Are you up for a mini road trip?” Spencer asked you after leaving your office building, getting into the drivers’ seat of his car. Still feeling so overwhelmed with happiness you just nodded. In that moment you would have said yes to basically anything. You were so giddy that you didn’t even notice how quiet your boyfriend had gone, usually he would be just about talking your ear off right now. The radio filled the comfortable silence between the two of you in the car, and you made yourself comfortable. You could tell you were driving to downtown DC, a route you had known by heart ever since working in Quantico.

Less than an hour later Spencer stopped the car right outside the Smithsonian Museum, one of your favourite places to go together. “Shouldn’t they be closed by now?” Instead of answering, Spencer just winked at you and got out of the car to open the door for you. Hand in hand you climbed the stairs to the entrance, where a guard was waiting for you. “Doctor Reid.”, he nodded at your boyfriend, stepping aside to let you in. You looked at him in wonder. “Spence, what are you planning?” He smiled at you. “I called in some favours.” In just that moment the two of you entered the massive rotunda, the beauty of it stealing your breath away. You had been here what felt like a hundred times, but never like this. There was no one around but you two, and the low lighting gave the whole room a magical feeling. “Wow.” You whispered, trying to look at everything at once. Spencer just looked at you. “Just how many favours did you have to call in for this?” He smiled shyly. “Not as many as you might think, actually. I helped some people here with their dissertations.” “Of course you did.”, you giggled, stepping close to him. “What did I do to deserve this?” You asked, trying to remember if you had forgotten about an anniversary or something. “Can’t I just do something nice for the woman I love?” He asked, stealing a kiss from your lips. He always got way more confident when there weren’t any people around. You just deadpanned at him. “Honey, everything you do has a purpose. You once scolded me for baking a cake because ‘it was no one’s birthday.’” It looked like you had caught him there, taking in the way he started playing with his hands. “Do you want to…sit down?” He asked, pointing at one of the museum’s benches. You nodded, following him suit. “You know, I never thought I would have this one day.” Spencer spoke up after a few moments of silence. Even his quiet words echoed through the empty marble-clad hall and gave them a whole different weight. “Have what?” You asked him and encouraged him with a squeeze of his hand. “A girlfriend, a baby on the way. My own family.” You chuckled. “Me neither. I never thought I would ever meet someone like you. You felt Spencer move, and suddenly he was kneeling in front of you. You were sure your heart stopped beating for a moment. “I love you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), more than I ever thought myself capable of.” He seemed awfully serious for a moment, but then he started searching for something in the pocket of his jacket and back was the Spencer you knew. “This was way smoother in my head.” He muttered before he finally found what he had been looking for with a quiet “ha!”. It was a black velvet box. With trembling fingers he opened it, revealing the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever seen to you. “Marry me?” He asked, a pleading look on his face. “No matter what happens, we will always be a family. And I want to make that official, for everyone to see. I want you to be mine in life and on paper, (Y/N). Marry me.” You bit your lip, unable to speak for a moment. Afraid your voice might fail you you just nodded heavily, tears already streaming down your face. You leaned down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, hoping he would understand that as a yes. Still, just to be sure, you whispered “yes” again and again after pulling away from him, tracing his whole face with your fingers. You wanted to forever be able to remember the way he looked in that moment, the museum’s low lights reflected in his eyes, the happiness on his face. He leaned up from where he was kneeling in front of you to kiss you again, the both of you full on crying now. “I love you.” You both whispered at almost the same time. It took you a few minutes to calm down, your full attention on nothing but each other. “Morgan helped me choose the ring. I hope you like it.” He spoke up after a while. Oh, right. The ring. You looked at it glistening on your ring finger, fascinated by the diamond’s thousand facets. Just as many as you boyfriend, no, fiancé, had. “I love it, Spencer. But I love you more.” You ended up spending half the night in the museum, the beautiful building now forever having taken on a whole new meaning for the two of you. Spencer was yours and you were his, and soon you would have a little proof of your love running around. You couldn’t wait to go on this journey with him.

[thebrownssociety]

i noticed that in a past post you had mentioned daffy was in the front lines of world war 2. how was that like? how did toons particularly handle war?

Not particularly well. Toons are not designed for war, they're designed to make people laugh. Added to that that most of the toons were very young [under 15] when they were sent to the front and the story gets sadder.

Warnings: Mention of War and descriptions of PTSD [I have done research, but this is Toon version, so it's not going to tally exactly with humans]

Disclaimer - this is a headcanon. I have mentioned the companies here and Walt Disney [briefly] stating the obvious, it's all made-up.

All of the companies involved did there best to help/protect the toons as best they could. None of the female or children toons were allowed to go and there was a limit on how old the 'adult' toons had to be before they could go. That ended up being 5. The companies wanted 10, the Military wanted three, five was a compromise - although the companies had to fight hard to get that. In the end it boiled down to 'Either five, or they don't go at all'. The companies also re-negotiated the initial year the toons would be away down to 6 consecutive months. The companies wanted three months, so it was another compromise.

Stating the obvious, none of the toons enjoyed it much. Even the ones who thought they would thrive [Like Donald, Yosamite Sam and other 'tough' toons] found it difficult. Not to say they don't remember some bits of it fondly, mainly the comradeship they found, but for the most part it was hell on earth. After the first lot of Toons who's gone in the first month [about 30, mainly background toons, Prince Florian and Sylvester] came back from the front they looked so pale and ghostlike [visually, a shell of there former selves] that none of the others wanted to go and the companies tried to pull them out of it. [This being near the end of 1943] But they weren't allowed to, so the toons had to go.

The time the toons were fighting was 'only' Jan 1943 - end of war, Sep 1945, and the toons were only there for 6 months, but it was a long, terrifying 6 months.

The weird thing was that after the first initial couple of months while there coulor came back and they looked more life-like again, they seemed okay. Really! They could still act - and act well - they joked with each other in a normal manner and they talked to people. Sure, there were a few of them showing more difficulties adjusting - like Daffy who was acting paranoid and was constantly on the edge and Donald who's already-existing anger issues went through the roof, not to mention Elmer who was mute for a few months after coming back and Pete [Disney] who locked himself away and wouldn't come out, not to mention the at least 30 of background toons who were all showing extreme level of difficultly, but, hey, that was only a couple of toons, right? In the grand scheme of things. The rest of them were fine.

They were not fine.

It took a good couple of years [between 5-10] But eventually the cracks started showing. The Toons who had fought in the war started reacting weirdly to loud noise. Jumping onto the ceiling and refusing to come down, hiding under things and in things [like jugs and cups and cracks in the wall] whenever they thought they were under attack. They were having frequent, intense nightmares and a lot of the toon were displaying mental health issues like paranoia and splitting themselves in two [literally. It depended on the toon as to what exactly the personalities looked like, but as a general guide they'd be one 'young' one from around the time they were first created and another one that was closer to there normal age, but looked and acted completely different. Doctor Scratchesniff theorised it's what the toons worse fears about themselves are, visualised and brought to life.]

The toons were also having flashbacks to the war, which is bad enough on its own, but because they're toons the flashbacks literally engulfed them and whoever was near, drawing them into a world that they hadn't been in for about five-ten years. This, as you can probably imagine, was quite a major problem so the three major studios - Disney, Warner Bros's and Hanna-Barbera - put there heads together and came up with a solution, and that solution came in the form of Doctor Scratchensniff. [I do have a separate headcanon on him, covered in my 'Mental-Health' headcanon] The idea was that D.S. would work across all three studios and have enhanced toon powers.

While it's well known that a lot of Toons have been affected by the war, I'll go through a few of the toons that [I headcanon] have had the most noticeable difficulties after the war.

Daffy - He now goes back and forth between his 40's characterisation [screwball, Clampett version] and his greedy-jerkass characterisation in later years. The way it works is he will be the 'sensible' persona of the Greedy Daffy for most of the year [who, for all his faults, does care about his friends/family and can take care of Plucky easily], then he will suddenly switch back to his 40's persona. [Who, although he does still care for his friends/family, he can't express it as well and he has NO IDEA who Plucky is.]

After a bit of help and counselling from D.S. he has identified his major triggers [and Daffy has informed the rest of the LT's so they're aware of them]. For example, flying a plane will instantly put him back in the 40's mindset. For a time it was flying in general that put him in the mindset [which was fun when the LT's went to Australia] but now Daffy's okay with it and can manage small journeys easily. Longer journeys he struggled with, but he simply doesn't go on long plane journeys.

He also doesn't like Toons taller than himself getting in his face, [much taller, I mean. Bugs is alright.] He'll go into 'Fight' mode and try to attack them. Non-expected loud sounds like a car backfiring or fireworks can also remind him of war. Daffy's reaction when he hears something that he's not sure of what it is, it to try and find it and attack it. Either that or he would teleport away to a small space [like a jug, under a staircase or a crack in the wall] and not come out until Avery/Elmer/Porky calmed him down. [Bugs does try, but Daffy tends to get more wound up whenever Bugs tries anything, so the rabbit had to stop.]

Donald - I'm not going to spend long on Donald, mainly because his issues have [I'm fairly certain] been touched on in canon? His triggers are a lot like Daffy's except that Donald is MUCH more likely to try and attack anything he thinks is a threat rather than run away from it. He has inadvertently hurt [both physically and mentally] people he cares about by doing this, but they understand the reason why. Doesn't necessary make it easier, but they understand.

The main difference between him and Daffy though is that Donald has always wanted help. Ever since he realised he was hurting the people he loved, he wanted help. He had time off from work, Scrooge stepped in and insisted Donald and the boys move in with him so he didn't have to worry about a roof over his head and getting food and stuff. [Unfortunately this genuine well-meant, kind act only added to Donald's general feeling of uselessness]

The good news was that not only did Donald have extended family support, but he was best friends with Mickey and Goofy. Mickey was able to lean in Walts ears and convince him to treat Donald more leniently than he might have other toons, he also did his best to help Donald come to terms with what had happened to him during the war. Goofy could - in theory - do a lot less than Mickey, but he WAS more available and completely willing to take the boys off him for a couple of hours/days/weeks if needed. Goofy can cook - and cook well - so he'd bring food over for Donald so that if [as happened often] he didn't feel like cooking he'd have something ready to heat up/put in the oven.

Elmer - Some of the toons when they were put in charge of there units got on quite well, in that they had men who were willing to listen to them, and treated them kindly. Elmer's troop wasn't like that. He was very young when he was sent there [8] and was still more like Egghead. A bit silly, a bit hyper and not as hard as he needed to be. He cried the first time he went into battle and had a lot of trouble trying to gain the respect of his men. This has had a knock-on effect in that he thought everyone around him hated him and didn't like him. Even when he went back to Toontown, he just thought all his friends/family were being nice to him because they had to, not because they genuinely liked him.

Over many years Elmer has come to accept this isn't true and has been in therapy with D.S. in order to discuss it further. On a different note the main immediately noticeable difference upon coming back from war [aside from the fact he was mute for about two months] was that he started sleepwalking. His sleep had never been great at the best of times, but the war gave him such bad nightmares that he hardly ever slept. When he did eventually get to sleep, he started sleepwalking. Elmer being Elmer somehow didn't notice this at first? He thought it was completely normal [?] to start the night in your bed and wake up in Toon-World Australia having somehow swam his way across the ocean and hacked his way through the Australian outbacks to the middle off Australia, while asleep. He then had to spend several days trying to get back to Looney-Tune Street. With this in mind, it was really only a matter of time until it was noticed by the others.

They do there best to look out for him, if one of the LT's see Elmer sleepwalking, they will follow him/go with him and try to look after him. It should be noted though that despite the fact Fudd is clearly asleep, he is somehow aware of his surroundings and should someone attack him he will fight back and, most times, win.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (7/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Note: I was busy with fic exchange pieces for a while but will be focusing on updating my multi chapter fics now. As always, feedback is very much appreciated :D

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 8

Link to cross-postings: AO3

“So you’re Levi Ackerman?” The woman who had just entered the room looked excited. Too excited.

After being kept waiting that long, Levi was in no mood for anything, especially unnecessary pleasantries. For the past thirty minutes at least, he had been sitting on the couch of a quaint office. It was spacious and there was at least enough room on the couch to elevate his knee comfortably. Probably the reason he had the self control to give a curt nod in reply.

“I’m a fan! I watched a few of your events actually and I’m so glad to have you here,” she said too enthusiastically. She paused for a second and shook her head. “No, I’m horrified about you being injured which caused you to end up here but I’m just really excited to get to know you.”

Levi didn’t feel the need to reply.

She walked to her desk and dropped her canvas bag before sitting on the couch in front of Levi. “Sorry for being a little late. I just came out from another meeting and went out to get something to eat after. Maybe I could give you my number and you could text me if you get here before I do.” She took a post-it out of her purse and scrawled a few numbers on it and slid it towards Levi.

Shouldn’t you have my number? Somehow it was hard to believe that she was a counselor. “Name?” Levi asked.

“Shela. Just call me Shela.”

Levi had met those types of people before who go by nicknames. More often than not, he couldn’t blame them, usually they had a very old fashioned or embarrassing name behind it. He couldn’t believe someone as transparent or excitable as her who didn’t look like she had much control of her filter, would have issues about how embarrassing a name was though.

“I have a very old fashioned first name.” Shela added, only confirming Levi’s suspicions. “Shela… Sierra - Hotel - Echo - Lima - Alpha.”

Levi typed the name on his phone and saved the number.

Last Name? Academic History? He set the rest of the details aside. As long as he knew her name, he could probably get through enough sessions to at least keep both his coach and Erwin satisfied. Going to a counselor was not his idea after all. It was his coach apparently who had requested it and it was Erwin who had pushed for it. Without twice a day training or even the freedom to go wherever he wanted without being completely exhausted within hours, Levi had not much of anything else to do anyway.

Shela brought out a notebook from her purse, opened it to a bookmark paged and wrote something on it before looking up at him. Levi couldn’t help but note that when she wasn’t looking ashamed or overly enthusiastic and she did look like she knew what she was doing.

“I’m going to skip the question of ‘what brings you here’ because I think we all know why you’re here.” She gestured her pen towards Levi’s leg. “Let’s start with something simple. How are you? How are you feeling today?”

“My knee hurts and I can’t train anymore. But I’m focusing on studies now so I think I’m doing okay.” He answered, having prepared that script in his head the thirty minutes he spent waiting for her.

“I’m not asking how you’re coping. I’m asking how you’re feeling today.” Shela’s piercing eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. The serious look she gave him then bore into him. In fact, it felt like it bore into his soul.

Despite the generally bad first impression she gave him, Levi was somehow convinced that she was qualified to do that type of work and his showing up there might turn out to be worth something after all. Levi found himself almost hypnotized by that look she gave him, a healthy mixture of concern, interest and professionalism.

Hiding and watching his words felt pointless and Levi found himself saying his answers as his brain came up with them.

                                   A Tale of Two Slaves

The hospital where he was slated to have his next sessions was that same hospital he had stayed in a week ago. Conveniently, it was a five minute walk from where he had been staying since he got out of the hospital: Hange’s apartment.

Just until I can walk up stairs. Levi had told himself. There were many dormitories clustered around campus yet he had ended up staying in the least handicap friendly one. The first floor had a lobby and a common room and the actual bedrooms were only found at the second floor and the third floor. To top it all off, there was no elevator. He had to note though that it was an old building with only three floors so it would have been useless to put one.

He was on scholarship and it was assigned to him back in first year so he did not have much of a choice. He didn’t need to think too much of it either that past three years of college since he had never been injured enough to the point of being unable to climb stairs

With his leg completely immobilized and a deadweight, Levi was sure it would be a nightmare to brave that everyday. The paperwork and legwork required to change dormitories in the middle of the semester seemed daunting as well. In the end, Hange had offered to let him stay over in her apartment.

Her condominium was spacious, it had an elevator and it was walking distance from the hospital where he’d have both his counseling and physical therapy sessions.

Walking Distance. For non handicapped people, it should only take five minutes to walk the two block distance from the hospital to the apartment building. Levi took ten minutes to clear it and by the end of it he was exhausted and despite the chill of mid autumn, Levi found himself sweating as he arrived in the apartment.

It was a Friday afternoon, a week after he was released from the hospital. Nobody was pressuring him to go back to school yet. His professors had been kind enough to send him lecture slides and give him extensions. Some classmates had dropped their own summarized notes and get-well messages.

Levi settled on his bed and propped his knee on his pillow, looking through the lecture slides of his last class. Despite his self imposed week long isolation, Levi just wanted to go back to normal life.

But it never will be normal again. Although Levi did see a glimmer of hope in the possibility of feeling normal again when he went back to school, the realist in him knew it wouldn't happen.

Levi was supposed to be in the process of accepting at least that it would never be the “normal” he used to have and had taken for granted. Something inside him was rebelling the process though.

If I can't live the life I want, then I won't live at all. That something screamed inside him.

That form of rebellion left Levi with little energy for anything else. His mind was slower. His body was heavier. He was seeing little reason to move beyond the mechanical and primal movements needed to survive.

As if by magic, his body that used to carry him over two meter tall bars, suddenly felt like it weighed a ton. The weight crushed him everyday. At times Levi found himself unable to breathe. That was he found himself in that same position for sixteen hours a day, either sleeping or staring at the same white ceiling above him.

In fact, the only time he had left the Hange's apartment was for that one counseling session Hange had prodded him to go to. That was the only time she had forced him to go out of the house as if she herself understood somehow the comfort and at the same time the panic that came with a self imposed isolation.

What else was there to do?

He was alone. He had kept to his own bubble in college, only flitting between the two islands of academics and trainings.He was always either busy or exhausted and the lack of in-between had given him little time to reflect on the state of his mental health. And suddenly he had lost one of his islands, the bigger one, the one that had given him meaning the past few years. That had left him completely and utterly lost. Maybe even desolate.

That was what Shela had pointed out in their first counseling session as Levi attempted to articulate the emptiness inside him, the slight panic that came with idleness, the sudden need to turn off all message notifications and the frequent mood changes that came with Hange's entering and exiting the apartment.

And his weird dependence on Hange.

In between studying for his three subjects that semester and icing his bum knee, what else was there to do? Wait for Hange to come home? Talk to her during that one to two hour window when she wasn't working on her thesis? That was what his life had ended up revolving around anyway.

Levi found himself only replying to anything related to studies or graduating. He had received a few messages from others, suggestions to visit training, offers to visit from teammates and he had ignored them all. Somehow, the reminder of the loss of the one hobby that had kept him busy for the past decade of his life, was mocking. He became someone who waits, someone who just went with the flow of everyone's schedule. Having been busy his whole life, having been constantly needed and looked for and only recently, having been reduced to where he was, Levi felt his life was just a series of wrong choices, wrong choices that only formed a distrust with himself and consequently a refusal to engage in activity.

What else am I supposed to be doing? Levi opened his laptop. For a moment he had tried to go through his school notes at Shela’s advice.

After less than an hour of halfheartedly reviewing his notes and forgetting it soon after, Levi had exhausted his already scarce energy. With nothing else to do, he had decided to move to scrolling through timelines which displayed little to no signs of real life obligations, pinterest and reddit to pass the time. Within an hour of just scrolling through both, he had gotten tired of it too. It was a new feeling. Usually he could drown himself in hours of social media and timelines but at that point, nothing was interesting to him anymore.

Have you tried writing out how you feel? Shela’s suggestion echoed in his head. Like maybe get a journal. It’s a great way to process your thoughts and emotions.

What’s there to write. Levi asked himself and Shela’s voice as it echoed in his head. Levi could only stare at the blank screen, his emotions too non-existent to write. The blank document he had opened in front of him was the best representation of his thoughts and emotions already.

There are no right or wrong answers. Shela had brought up another good point during their session.

You think, therefore you are. You feel therefore you are. As long as you’re processing images, sounds and sensations, you’re thinking. You’re feeling something and you can write something down.

Then why do I feel so empty? Levi had asked.

Shela had compared it to a false bottom. As he continued to stare at the blank page in front of him, Levi was starting to feel for that false bottom in his mind. It was a matter of discipline more than anything, determination to dig into one’s self.

It could have taken hours but as Levi looked at the time on his laptop, he realized much time hadn’t passed. In fact, the time to the lower right of his screen, was still the same. But Levi was starting to think differently.

He did have something to look back on. Stories he hadn’t thought back to in a while, having been occupied by training, Hange’s tests, studies and recoveries. They continued to taunt him in the mornings. With the magic of worldly obligations, Levi had managed to set them aside.

His motivations particularly lay in the fact that his world was a little bigger, he was talking to more people and the idea that these same people he was seeing were the same ones he’d been writing fictional stories for had him questioning his own sanity and had him a little self conscious about having those dreams in the first place.

At that moment though, his inability to think and feel beyond that false bottom had Levi more alarmed and he found himself attempting to articulate those dreams on the word processor just to experience a semblance of something.

Levi at least confirmed one thing, that bottom was false. And the more he articulated those dreams, the more they became real. He was starting to scrape on that false bottom and the first things that were oozing out were dreams. Somehow, the dreams were more vivid that he had ever remembered them to be. He felt almost guilty for having set them aside like some sort of fair weathered friend.

“Hey not bad! Is that homework?”

Levi tensed up in surprise. He should have been able to hear the familiar footsteps and the jangle of the keys from his place on the sofa bed. He never missed it once. Levi didn’t know if he should be proud that he had distracted himself enough not to consider Hange or terrified that she was right behind him at that moment, probably reading through his work.

He quickly closed his tab and looked at the time on the lower right. It was only five. Hange usually went home at seven.

“You’re early,” Levi commented.

“It’s my apartment. I can choose when to go home.” Hange answered. “Anyway what was that? Are you writing?”

“A journal,” Levi explained. There was not much point in lying.

“Did the counselor tell you to do that?”

“Yeah. Something about processing emotions and thoughts.”

“It’s a good exercise. Especially since you seemed pretty out of it recently...” Hange trailed off.

Levi looked back at her and noticed a flicker of what looked like guilt in Hange’s eyes before she looked away.

“Out of it?” Levi knew what she was talking about. He just felt the need to keep the conversation going.

“You spent the past weekend just lying in bed. I never even saw you look through your phone or open your laptop. ” Hange explained. “I’ve seen how these types of things develop so... So yeah, I’m just so happy to see you so focused on something else.”

“I don’t really have much else to get into other than school.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Hange said.

Levi bit his lip, instantly regretting that last sentence. Hange averaged two apologies a day which was a lot given the fact that they only ever had a two hour window to talk in between Levi’s long hours asleep and Hange’s long hours on campus.

“It wasn’t your fault. I was kinda going crazy too...With the jumping I mean.” He added. “And I was the one who decided to make that last jump in the first place. And now you have to change your whole thesis topic.”

“It wasn’t too difficult. Just one week building a new proposal. It’s still the same case study, it’s just I decided to document a recovery. Erwin’s unconventional methods with the recovery makes it worth documenting.”

“At least I’m still useful somewhere,” Levi commented wryly. Hange had explained the thesis to him over the weekend. He should have been relieved at least to know that they weren’t separating anytime soon. Surprisingly though, he wasn’t even happy to hear it. Everything around him just seemed too bleak to celebrate anything. Good news that used to make him smile and celebrate internally suddenly only made him feel a slight sense of relief, the equivalent emotion of seeing a wet floor sign in an area with slippery floors.

Hange sat on the sofa bed next to Levi and looked towards him. She took a deep breath. “I know with what’s been happening, it looks like you don’t have much going for you. And I know things seem pretty dark now but things will get better. You just have to keep living.”

“I’m still breathing.”

“You know what I mean,” Hange said. “When I get up in the morning you’re asleep. When I get back we talk for an hour and half the time it’s just me talking. You barely even answer when I ask what you want. This past weekend I didn’t even see you look through your phone. It’s like you’re practically dead.”

“What else is there to do. I can’t show up for training. My professors aren’t asking me to go back to school soon.”

“Find a new hobby? Continue whatever thing you’re writing. Enjoy the food I bring home. Laugh when you see a funny meme. Or you know, at least smile and do that nose blowing thing people do when you show them a funny meme..”

“My teammates are preparing for the new season. My classmates are at least all caught up in class. I spent too much damn time on that fucking sport. Now that it’s all gone, I feel like I’m just going with the flow of life instead of actually swimming,” Levi said, having taken that last part from Shela’s book.

“Everyone is just going with the flow of life. We’re all at the mercy of time anyway. Live for yourself. See joy in the small things at least. Look at me, I’m simping for athletes like some idiot in between studies.”

“Live for yourself? You follow people’s orders a lot for someone who gives this type of advice.”

“It’s not obeying people. I’m just asking questions and seeking advice. The more relevant facts, information and experience you have, the better the decisions you can make right. So can’t I argue that having more information at my fingertips makes me freer? ” Hange gave Levi a knowing and playful smile

He could tell by the look she gave him that she expected something in return. It was a rhetorical question though, maybe even a premature victory lap for having won that argument. Levi silently looked back at his laptop, not wanting to let her win.

Hange broke the silence. “Okay now that we’re on the topic of asking questions... who’s that Squad Leader Hange Zoe you’re writing about?”

                                A Tale of Two Slaves

Levi could not pinpoint the exact moment he decided for certain that squad leader Hange Zoe was real, when he decided for himself that the stories he was writing out should have been real.

It came as a gradual decision after incessant questions from Hange that at first, he was determined not to answer. Hange was smart about it, keeping the questions as things that could be answered with one word, and before he knew it, he was giving her too much information, it was pointless to blatantly refuse. After he had answered her more than enough questions, she smiled.

“Looks like you got my personality down,” Hange commented. Levi somehow knew her enough to tell there was no judgement or obligation in that voice. In fact, when he looked into her eyes, he saw that same wonder, he had seen many times before when she witnessed the jumps.

That wonder only carried over from questions on the squad leader to questions on his dreams and finally, to questions on how he wrote his dreams out.

“How do you see the world?”

“How do I see the world?”

“Like what type of camera angles do you see the world in. If I asked you to imagine a tree, what kind of tree do you imagine? Do you imagine it from top to bottom, from trunk to top? Our minds are the most creative producers and cameramen you can think of.”

“Do you notice how well our body blends sensations? When the light turns off then on, there’s a split second where you see shapes when your eyes adjust from light to dark?”

“What are the physical manifestations of emotions? Do you feel your stomach drop? Do you ever get that tingling feeling in your legs and suddenly they’re jelly?”

Did you ever witness something so beautiful that you wish you could live forever just so you could never forget it?

The conversation was a little deep and a little too philosophical for him. It was a ploy to get him writing and maybe a ploy to get him to understand the same wonder she had in the world from what he could tell. Somehow he needed it. The way Hange had described the world, the way she had described reality, only made the line between what could have been his imagination and his memory a little more distinct.

It was around then did he look at Hange Zoe the medical student to see the squad leader from his dreams. Erwin Smith, Hange Zoe and every single one of the soldiers in these dreams. They weren’t just dreams or manifestations of an exhausted mind.

In another life, she could have been real. The angles at which he saw the world, the way his body processed those sensations in his dreams, the manifestations of those emotions, too vivid even more vivid than a catharsis from a good book or a phenomenal ending to a TV show.

The questions continued to echo as Hange turned off the lights and Levi lay in bed awake. That food for the thought left Levi hyper aware of his surroundings, all the way down to the small details --- the way every piece of thread on the bed covers beneath him pressed on to him, the way his breath made a sound in the utter silence late at night no matter how much he tried to quiet it, the way the palpitations in his chest could be felt all the way until his head. He was excited to sleep, dream and take stock of his dreams yet he was too excited to fall asleep.

Like a five year old the night before their first field trip, Levi did not fall asleep anytime soon.

                                        A Tale of Two Slaves

Nobody really questions the logic of dreams.

Sometimes one can find themselves only a few millimeters tall on top of a giant donut. Sometimes they can find themselves having milk tea with their favorite celebrity. Dreams are more felt by the moments they bring to people, not by the logic. It was only natural Levi did not question much of his dreams then.

That night as he lay awake, Levi made the conscious effort to live in his dreams, to take note of every detail from the sights and sounds, to the smells, the emotions, repeating to himself the questions Hange had asked earlier that day. What he had failed to consider then, was the context of dreams.

Were Hange and the others okay?

He found himself on the battlefield and he knew exactly what had to be done. In front of him was a large furry creature which the military had dubbed the Beast Titan and around him were other naked humanoid creatures called titans.

The Beast titan was flinging rocks at them and the soldiers were dying at an alarming rate.

Commander Erwin Smith ordered a suicide mission. All surviving soldiers were to rush towards the Beast Titan while Levi flew from the side of the walls and snuck towards him.

He knew what to do. The movements were natural and Levi had flown before, the gear on his waist had only made the whole mission easier. Somehow, on the battlefield he had the luxury of stock knowledge.

That stock knowledge was what had him slicing through the arms, through the eyes, through the achilles and finally through the nape of said titan. He pulled out a blonde man and pushed the sword through the man’s mouth.

He could feel his blood boiling. From anger? Of course, the man had killed Erwin. For a second, Levi had managed to get a view of the blond commander as he flew from the wall slashing titan after titan. He knew the man was probably dead.

But there was a way to revive him. There was a serum.

Before Levi could give it a second thought, a duck billed monster tore into his view and---

Levi sat up and screamed. He found himself in no hurry to dodge that duck billed titan. He was in Hange's apartment, too injured to be flying in the air in those contraptions anyway. He ran his hands through his body and up to his face, taking stock of his reality. He didn't reek of titan blood nor was he covered in it. He scanned the dark room, or at least what was visible given the moon was his only light source.

Somehow, those few moments as captain Levi had felt so real, watching the moon from his place on the sofa bed seemed almost dreamlike.

Which one is my reality? Levi found himself questioning it all. As quickly as the questions came, they were answered. All he needed was one stimuli, strong enough to root him back into his reality.

"Hey, bad dream?"

The dark room and his own state of mind had made it difficult for him to notice that Hange had settled beside him. That voice though had pulled him out of his trance and he became certain at least that he was not dreaming anymore.

"Yeah," Levi managed to say. At the least he still had control of his voice.

Hange sat cross-legged next to him. The moon was at a perfect angle to illuminate her face and even in the dark room he could see it. Her eyes were looking right at him as if she were studying him a little too seriously.

She brought out one finger to his eye and pushed at the corner. That was when Levi felt it. The small tear spread on the corner of his eye and dried up within seconds. Levi only hastened the process by wiping it himself.

"I'm not leaving you tonight."

"Why?"

"I'll take full responsibility for this. It was my mistake that got you into this in the first place.”

"I've had them before. This is nothing new.” Levi argued. As Hange lay on the sofa bed next to him though, he realized he didn’t want her to leave. His body froze as if understanding that emotion, unwilling to accommodate the protests, the impulse inside him to argue, to force her to go back to her room.

The sofa bed was at least big enough for both of them, wide enough for a comfortable one to two feet space between them. Hange had made sure as well to lie on her side, only widening that space a little more.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this but I swear I really do mean it every time. I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked as she said it.

Levi only continued to stare at the ceiling above him, listening to her disturbed and hitched breaths next to him as if she was holding back something. He didn’t want to look to his side, not wanting to further aggravate a reaction he sensed was raring to come out of her or to further tighten that knot which had settled itself on his chest. His dim surroundings only illuminated weakly by the moon, did not help at all.

Levi lay awake for a while longer, scrambling for words that could placate her.

This is nothing new. It hadn’t worked.

I’m fine. But he wasn’t.

Things happen. Had he not given that same consolation so many times before?

Eventually the rhythm of her breathing evened out enough for Levi to guess that she had fallen asleep, and as if by some special force, Levi found his breathing slowing down too. He was starting to relax.

The apartment was dark and quiet. It was peaceful, so peaceful that Levi never did notice when exactly he was pulled back into his dream. The dimness of the apartment was gradually replaced by the dimness of the forest a long time ago. The distant sounds of passing cars gradually replaced by the crackle of a fire and the rustle of leaves on a windy night.

He was surrounded by trees. A broken wooden cart lay to the side and a few feet away from it a campfire.

The soft and even breathing next to him stayed though. The same exact pattern, the same exact rhythm, the same hitched breaths--- all signs of the light uneasy slumber of his companion.

That was all Levi needed to hear to have sworn nothing much changed about her.

[bethpeaches123]

Everlark #46

Okay, this took much longer than I’d hoped, but that’s because every time I thought I was finished, something new popped into my head and I had to include it, so it’s also much longer than I’d anticipated. But, here it is, @mandelion82! I hope you enjoy! I’m thinking of continuing it too, so stay tuned! Also going to post it on AO3. :)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Everlark 46: nanny/single parent au

The Nanny/Babysitter/Minder

When Katniss Everdeen placed an ad looking for a nanny to care for her five-year-old daughter Cassie, the gorgeous blond, blue-eyed specimen of a man standing on her front porch was not exactly what she had in mind.

“Can I…help you? Sir?” she asked, trying to wipe the puzzled expression off her face when she opened the door.

He smiled, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his dark wash jeans, looking slightly puzzled himself. “I’m Peeta. Peeta Mellark? I emailed you about the nanny position for your daughter? We agreed I’d come over to meet her at one o’clock today?” he replied. His eyes flickered to the side at the sound of a car horn behind him on the busy street, then flicked back to Katniss while he waited for her response.

Flustered that Peeta was apparently a man’s name and not an old woman’s like she’d assumed, (Why had she assumed that? What could have it been short for? Petunia? Come on, Katniss) she hesitated and then said, “oh, yes, of course. Um, please, come in,” stepping aside to let the subtly muscular man walk past her and into the hallway.

Hesitating again, she decided to throw caution to the wind and continue with the appointment with this man, Peeta. She hadn’t received any other responses to the ad she’d placed two weeks prior, and she was getting desperate. Her surgery schedule had changed at the hospital, thanks to crotchety Chief Abernathy who didn’t care about her childcare woes, and she needed to find someone to pick Cassie up from school until her current shift rotation changed again in a few months’ time. If it changed. Knowing Abernathy, he’d keep her on this schedule indefinitely.

“Cassie? Can you come out please sweetheart, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” she called down the hall.

She motioned for Peeta to proceed into the living room as a tiny pixie of a girl came bounding down the hall and into the room, her dark brown hair in two messy braids down her back. “Mama, I was playing,” she whined, but stopped and stared, wide-eyed at the blond man standing in front of her. “Who are you?” she asked, curiously.

“Cassie honey, I told you we’d be meeting your new nann-err…your….baby-um…your…minder…today. Remember?” hastily fumbling over what to call Peeta. “This is Mr. Mel-um, Peeta.”

“Hi Mr. Peeta,” Cassie whispered, peering up at him shyly as her little mouth curling into a smile.

Peeta knelt down in front of Cassie and held out his hand. “Hello Miss Cassie, it’s very nice to meet you. You can call me just Peeta, though, if you’d like,” he replied, gently smiling at the girl. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, I hope.”

“Cassie, why don’t you tell Peeta about school? Cassie just started grade one. Peeta, can I get you something to drink?” asked Katniss, starting towards the kitchen. She needed to put some distance between herself and this gorgeous man. Needed to catch her breath and steady herself – it had been a while since she’d been around anyone who made her feel so flustered. She was usually so calm and cool-headed; she needed to be, being an orthopedic surgeon and all. When Peeta didn’t reply right away, she turned to face him and found him staring straight at her.

“I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, his eyes warm as he looked at her for a beat longer than normal, before turning his focus back to her mini-me sitting before him on the floor. She could feel the heat from his brief gaze go straight to her core. She shivered and spun on her heel, swiftly walking to the kitchen. What was that? As she poured herself a glass of water, she gave herself a mental shake before gulping it down and returning to the living room to sit and observe.

As Katniss watched the two interact on the floor, her initial hesitations began to melt away. Peeta was patient, attentive and gentle with her sweet girl, listening to her talk about her dolls, how much she wanted a cat (Katniss refused - she and felines did not get along) and how nice her kindergarten teacher Mr. Cinna was. Peeta asked her questions about her favourite colour (purple, but also green, like Mama) what she wanted to be when she grew up (a veterinarian) and her favourite flavour ice cream (Rocky Road).

After 45 minutes had passed and the two seemed thick as thieves, Katniss’s worries were gone. Her desperation to find someone to look after Cassie while she was at work had melted away as she watched Cassie, normally a shy, reserved little girl, open up and giggle at the gentle man who made silly faces and showed her pictures of his cat, Cupcake (she could’ve scolded him for that - she didn’t need Cassie getting any more ideas about wanting a cat.) Occasionally, she’d laugh softly at something one of them would say, and she’d catch Peeta’s eye when he’d glance at her and smile warmly, his dimples dusting his cheeks.

With her ex Gale no longer in the picture, and her mother and sister living two states away, she didn’t have any family support. Peeta seemed to be the answer to her prayers, judging from how quickly he and her daughter got along. Plus…he wasn’t hard on the eyes. Stop lusting after the hired help, Katniss. Get it together.

After some more time had passed, Katniss looked at her watch and said, “Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of Peeta’s time, Cassie, and you have to get ready to head out to your singing lesson too,” said Katniss, standing up and motioning to her daughter to go to her room and get ready. “Why don’t you brush your teeth, use the bathroom and get your sheet music from your bedroom while I talk to Peeta?”

“But I don’t haveta use the bathroom, Mama,” Cassie grumbled. She didn’t make any moves to get up from her spot on the floor next to Peeta, who smartly stayed silent as he watched the mother and daughter talk.

“You will as soon as we get in the car and by then it’ll be too late. Go, please, missy,” replied her mother, sternly.

Peeta stood up from where he’d been sitting crossed legged on the floor with Cassie and dipping into a deep bow, offered her his hand to pull her up. “May I be of service to the young lady and help her up?” His eyes twinkled as she giggled again and placed her little hand in his, letting him easily pull her to her feet. “Will I see you again, Mr. Peeta?” she asked shyly, glancing at her mother before turning back to him.

“I would like that, Miss Cassie. How about I chat with your mama while you get ready? It’s a good idea to listen to her - she knows best,” he replied gently.

Cassie huffed, but turned and bounded out of the room, the chorus of “Let It Go” echoing down the hall as she went.

Peeta chuckled and shook his head amusedly, shoving his hands in his front pockets, adopting his stance from earlier. He turned his gaze to Katniss once again, his piercing blue eyes warm and kind. Before she could speak, Peeta beat her to it.

“She seems like a wonderful little girl, Mrs. Everdeen. I’d be happy to look after her for you when needed,” he said. “I can provide a list of references and my child CPR certification if you’d like. I mean, if you’d like me to...if you’d like t-to hire me?” He stuttered, watching her face spread into a wide, amused smile.

“It’s Dr. Everdeen, actually. Ms. Dr. Everdeen, really. I’m not married. Ever. Haven’t ever been married. I mean, not that that matters, I’m jus-I mean Cassie’s father and I weren’t married, we were just together, but he’s not around anymore, he-” what was wrong with her? She was a top-notch surgeon; a strong, independent woman, raising a child on her own. Why was she so tongue-tied around this man? She took a deep breath and said, “Katniss is fine. And your references and other files would be great. Could you email them to me please?”

Amused by her stuttered response that mirrored his own, Peeta replied, “Okay. Katniss it is, and yes, I’ll send them over today.” He seemed relieved that she was as nervous as he was.

After they discussed hours and rate of pay, the one questions that had been nagging in the back of her mind finally couldn’t be left unasked. “Why do you want this job?” She blurted.

Mortified, she continued before he could even open his mouth. “Sorry, it’s just...when I placed the ad, I expected to find an old, grandmother-type woman. Not a young, handsome guy. I mean-I just...I haven’t come across a lot of male...nannies,” she trailed off, embarrassed by her word choice. Did I just call him handsome? To his face? Oh god, I wish I could bury MY face in my hands right about now.

Peeta shifted somewhat uncomfortably from one foot to the other before replying. “That’s a fair question, I guess. I work in my family’s bakery in the mornings, but my day is finished by noon. I wanted something to fill the rest of my days and I love kids – I have a niece and nephew who are just the greatest, I love spending time with little people that age, they’re so inquisitive and honest. I’ve actually thought about going back to school to become a teacher – I mean, I haven’t ruled it out yet, I’m only twenty-six, that’s not too old. Plus, I thought about how much of a struggle it must be sometimes to be a single parent and if I have the ability and capacity to help someone out, well, then I want to do that.” He realized he was rambling a bit and flushed with embarrassment. “Is that weird? I just thought I’d combine helping people and kids and...well, here I am. Here we are.”

“Here we are indeed,” mused Katniss, staring at him wonderingly. “That seems like as good a reason as any, I suppose.” She started to turn away but stopped and looked at him once again. “And I do appreciate the help, by the way…can you start Monday?” Her lips curved into a small smile, Peeta beamed back at her, this time his dimples on full display.

“Great! Yes, Monday’s great. Okay. Good. I think this will be...great. I’ve said great a lot. I’ll stop,” said Peeta sheepishly, running his hand through his messy blond curls. His face flushed bright red again, a shade Katniss found endearing.

Before she could respond again, Cassie came bounding down the hallway, her teeth clean and music bag in tow. “I’m ready, Mama! Mr. Peeta, so will I see you again?” She asked hopefully, peering up at her new friend once again.

Peeta glanced at Katniss, who smiled and nodded, before replying to Cassie. “You will! I’ll be there to pick you up from school on Monday. I have a very serious question for you though, Miss Cassie. Are you ready to hear it?” Her brow furrowed as she nodded slowly. “Do you like to have fun?” She little face broke out into a grin as she nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. “Well good,” he continued. “Because we’re going to have lots of it.”

Hearing her child break out into giggles again melted her heart and stirred something inside her. Looking at Peeta, she met his intense gaze with one of her own, grateful for this kind man to care for the more important person in her life.

“Well, it’s time to go, sweetheart. Peeta, thank you so much again. We’ll be chatting before Monday to go over the rest of the particulars,” said Katniss, ushering Cassie out the front door and turning to Peeta once again. As he moved past her to go through the front door, his hand lightly pressed against the small of her back to step around her, and Katniss felt the heat of his touch through her coat. It spread from her back throughout her body, right down to her toes. She froze as he passed through the door and hopped down the steps, turning back to look at her and flashed his dimples once again. Oh my. This is going to be interesting…

“I’ll speak to you very soon, Katniss. Cassie, I’ll see you Monday afternoon!” he called, cheerfully as he waved and headed to his car.

“I like Mr. Peeta, Mama. He’s nice. And he has a cat!! Do you think he can bring Cupcake over to play with me sometime?” Cassie babbled as Katniss strapped her into her seat, her mind replaying the memory of Peeta’s touch on her back over and over. She flushed again, thinking of how close his muscular body had to hers been when he walked by, how his blue eyes sparkled when he stared at her, how his dimples seemed to make an appearance when he beamed at her….how his ass looked when he bent over to help Cassie up...

Oh no. She was in trouble.

A young, hot, (she has to admit he was hot, there was no denying it) kind, patient man was going to be looking after her child and thus very, very involved in her life for the unforeseeable future. This would be interesting indeed…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[kookiebunnii]

d4u || c’s get degrees

sept. 2018. this is my first time having a class with guk. we like to make bets on things to satisfy jungkook’s competitive instinct and the reward is usually food-related. i guess this quarter will be no different. 

pairing: bestfriend!jungkook x reader

genre: slice of life 

word count: 2.4k

warnings: n/a

sept. 2018

If there was one thing Jungkook loved, it was competition. You still remember the phase where he’d respond “bet” to anything you said, even if it made no sense. 

Let’s have Chinese takeout for dinner. Bet. 

Don’t forget your keys like you did last time. Bet.

If you say “bet” one more time, I’ll throw your Widowmaker mousepad out the window. Bet.

He’d always be the one to suggest playing rock, paper, scissors for the last slice of pizza, betting that if a coin turns up heads then you would have to do the dishes tonight instead, or begging you to play some new video game with him so he could 1v1 you over a large sum of five dollars. Maybe it was the adrenaline he craved or the fact that he could rarely find something he was not skilled at. However, after all the years he’s known you, he has realized that he’s finally met his match. You always watch uninterestedly as the coin lands on tails and Jungkook howls in pain over the kitchen sink. Similarly, you grew used to noncommittedly charging him $5.00 on Venmo as he repeatedly demands a rematch because the game was bugged or his character was lagging.

Perhaps the boy was known for being good at everything, but it seemed that luck was always on your side. 

Breaking out of your reverie, you watch as Jungkook dashes across the apartment in search for something. While you spread Nutella over a piece of lightly browned toast, your eyes follow his frantic movements in amusement. Biting into your breakfast for the day, you hum happily as the chocolate-y flavor spreads across your tongue.

“What are you looking for e-boy?” you ask before taking a sip of the milk in your cup. 

“I can’t find my penny board…have you seen it?” he starts opening all the cupboards one by one, as if his skateboard would be in the kitchen shelf next to the canned spam.

“I hid it,” you casually state, hiding your grin behind a nibble of toast. 

He stops in his tracks, looking you dead in the eye before calmly replying, “And why would you do that?”

Brushing the crumbs from your fingertips onto your plate, you skip past him to respond in a chirpy tone, “Every time you used that cursed thing you’ve come back with a new cut or scrape. We’re running out of my favorite Hello Kitty band-aids, so I’ve decided you need a break from your precious board.”

He seems to be ready to retort something back in response, but with one look at his right arm he’s forced to agree that maybe he should rely on his own two legs for the next week or two. Huffing indignantly, he grabs the other piece of toast you’ve left for him on the plate and begins spreading generous amounts of the hazelnut spread while you get ready for class. 

Surprisingly, you and Jungkook have the same class this quarter on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Since the two of you were different majors, you never really discussed schedules with him and only ever really asked about his classes to know when you should expect him to be at home. However, it turns out that this class in question is notorious for being an easy pick to fulfill a GE requirement all students had to complete for graduation, so you couldn’t say it was a complete surprise that the two of you were simultaneously enrolled. 

Minutes later, you cover your mouth as you yawn at the doorway, watching Jungkook sling his backpack over his shoulder. He freezes, mumbling something that you assume is a list of all the things he needed for the day to ensure that he doesn’t forget anything. 

As he does this mental recital, you reach up and smooth out some hair sticking up at the top of his head. He’s rather tall, so you do your best to tip-toe and ensure that the gel in his hair is adequately spread over his brown locks to make him look as presentable as possible—which you admit must be tough for the poor gel product. He flicks you gently on the forehead as soon as he notices you holding in your laughter over this thought. 

“I know you’re thinking something funny about me again. Stop.” 

You give him your most innocent smile before heading out the door, slipping your earbuds in to listen to your regular “commute tunes” playlist. 

After the short bus ride, he gently bumps into your side to get your attention. You pull out your earbuds and give him a questioning look and soft shoulder bump of your own. Based on the mischievous look on his face, you knew that the premonition you had this morning about Jungkook’s competitiveness was a warning sign. 

“Since we have the same class this quarter, how about we bet on who will get the higher grade?” he grins happily, his whole body seemingly lit with excitement. 

“Are you sure, Mr. Film Studies major? This is a philosophy class,” you quip, watching as masses of students trickle around the two of you like slippery salmon in a never-ending stream.

“It’s not like you’d have an edge either Miss International Business major” he laughs, and you can hear the confident tone in his voice. Jungkook genuinely thinks he has a chance. 

How cute.

Right before you two enter through the classroom door, you pull him aside. The confident way he leans back to look at you tells you that he knew you wouldn’t be able to reject his offer. You never backed down on his challenges, and that’s why he liked you so much.

“Loser treats winner to Korean BBQ,” you state plainly, casually glancing down at your phone to check the time. Two minutes before class starts.

“Sure.”

Satisfied, you head into class and look around for two empty seats that were side-by-side. It wasn’t a habit that you were used to, since you rarely had friends in your university courses. However, with Jungkook beside you, it felt like a natural and customary reaction to scan the room for two empty seats instead of one. It was like pulling out two plates for dinner every night, stopping at a bakery when your cravings hit to buy your favorite dessert and a slice of banana bread to-go, or sending him a meme as you scroll through Reddit that you knew would make him laugh. You were unconsciously conscious of him.

The weeks passed like a summer’s breeze, so enjoyable that you’re left awestruck until it’s over. You enjoyed dodging around Jungkook’s questions whenever he struggled with the homework, watching him nap on his notebook while you took lecture notes, and distracting him with text messages when you didn’t want to pay attention in class so that he wouldn’t be able to either. It was almost like high school again, back when you used to be able to spend time with him and mess around in class with the teacher being none the wiser. Before long, finals had come around and you were feeling a little nervous to say the least. Jungkook refused to tell you what he got on the midterm, and by extension his grade in the course, thereby keeping you in the dark. Your grade wasn’t terrible, but you knew that Jungkook wasn’t a complete dummy because he always performed well when he was focused. Free Korean BBQ could do that to a man. 

“Do you want to study together?” you ask, finding him laying on the couch and playing a racing game on his phone. You watch as his round eyes focus on the screen intently, waiting for him to blink.

“Sure. I’m not helping you though.”

You laugh, bringing your face close enough that it was right above the phone in his hands. Making weird faces to distract him from his game, you reply, “As if. I’m just checking to see how behind you are in this class.”

He finishes and tosses his phone on the tabletop. Looking at you disinterestedly, he pinches one of your cheeks and gets up when you wiggle out of his grasp. It looks like he’s going to get his stuff, so you head into your own room to prepare your books for a productive study session.

One of the highlights of your university was its library. You always came here to study instead of studying at home or going to a café. Being at home was sometimes distracting, especially when you could hear Jungkook roasting his team over voice chat well into the late night. Given how much you were consuming at your new barista job, you also decided to avoid places with delicious pastries, lest you wanted more feelings of disappointment during your next weigh-in at the doctor’s. 

Finding a table with space for two, you sit down and begin pulling all of your supplies out of your backpack. Your enjoyed studying with a particular organization of notes and texts, so you had your favorite animal post-its on hand. Using them to indicate the beginning of your lecture notes, you begin going through what you’ve written with a light yellow highlighter. After doing this for a few pages, you peek at Jungkook’s work to find him doodling in the margins. 

Leaning over, you draw a cute stick figure pointing to Jungkook’s doodle in awe. To get the full effect, you include a speech bubble of the character saying “WOW!”

He smiles before giving your stick figure a gorgeous mustache and top hat. 

Surprisingly, the two of you get a lot done that day. You expected to be consistently distracted, but Jungkook kept to himself whenever he was really focused. Maybe he was always like this with studies he was interested in, but either way you quite liked how focused he was being. His wide eyes were trained on the text in front of him as he absentmindedly tapped his pen against his cheek in thought. Once in a while the pen tilts dangerously close to his mouth, and as you catch him proceeding to take an unconscious bite of the cap, you pull his hand away in alarm.

“You have a habit of putting things in your mouth. Perhaps you’re into that, but for your health let’s not,” you chastise, pulling the pen out of his grasp and tapping him on the head with it.

Grinning, he proceeds to try and bite your shoulder. You almost screech in alarm at his attack before remembering that you’re in a very public library with students already taking notice of the way you were practically falling out of your chair in horror. Clearing your throat and straightening your jacket, you give Jungkook a dirty look before turning away to focus on your textbook again. 

Finals turned out to be much easier than you anticipated, which matched up to the past experiences you’d gathered from previous students of the course. It was clear to you that you and Jungkook had over-studied, but what captured your interest with greater intensity was the final grade in the course. As you happily noted the bright 97.6% flashing back at you on the screen, you could practically taste the yummy samgyeopsal on your tongue. Guess what makes food even better? When it’s free!

You slide over to Jungkook’s room and peek inside, hoping he wasn’t in the middle of a game. Luck finds you again when you witness him exiting out of the League of Legends application on his setup and spinning around in his bright orange gamer chair to greet your new intrusion. He quickly pulls his headset off to hear you better, to which you respond by diving face-first onto his bed and rolling up in his blanket like Y/N burrito just to bother him. When he makes a sound of annoyance and begins prying the sheets off you, you know you’ve attained your goal and begin helping him unravel you.

“What do you want?” he prods you off the bed so he can redo his sheets.

“Have you seen your PHIL grade yet?” you begin pretend-boxing with his back as the punching bag. He doesn’t seem to like this very much either, because he quickly spins around and grabs onto your fists to stop you. 

“I have. Guess you’re taking me to KBBQ tonight?” he tries to tickle you out of spite, but you know he’s in a good mood. You’re rarely this playful with him, preferring to silently annoy him or treat him more like a troublesome younger brother to look out for. But what can you say? A free dinner peaks your mood.

“What’d you get then smartass?” 

He pretends to think for a bit with his hand on his chin, “You first.” 

Confidently, you stand up to him and puff your chest out in pride while jabbing his chest with each digit that comes out of your mouth. 

“97.6% baby. Anyways, there’s this new spot 15 minutes away Luce told me about, I think you should treat me there-”

“Hm, 97.7% here baby,” a smirk sliding easily across his features as he mocks your previous tone, “What was that about a new place?”

Wide-eyed, you demand to see his grade on the university’s portal page. There’s no way this slick kid managed to get a higher grade than you…especially by a tiny percentage point! He’s got to be joking, maybe betting that you wouldn’t actually fact-check his claims or something… 

Alas, as he shows you his screen while laughing in crazed triumph, you feel like breaking his obnoxious rainbow-lit keyboard as he runs around his room doing victory laps. You always thought luck would be on your side, especially when it came to studies, but perhaps you had used up all your free passes this year. 

Breezing past him, you head to your room to find a light coat for the evening and your car keys. Jungkook seems to find that following you as you complete this task is entertaining, because you have to try your absolute best not to look at him as he tries to get your attention by making his typical crackhead expressions.

“Put on one of your weeb hoodies with the anime chicks and let’s go.”

“Wind out of your sails Y/N?” 

He grabs you by the shoulders in an attempt to spin you around, but one well-aimed knee to the balls later, Jungkook seems to enjoy lying on the floor clutching his precious package more than teasing you with his antics. 

Mental note: never make a bet with Guk again. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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[stellarrmoon]

Black Sand and Copy Cat

Pairing: kakashi x reader

Genre: smut; 1/???

Warnings: get some water.

Status: unedited

Background: you're a sand shinobi sent to the leaf village in order to learn some new skills. Except, you dont look like everyone else; and that catches the attention of the Copy Ninja, Kakashi Hatake.

I settled into my room nicely, being escorted by a Jonin ninja to my quarters and left to my own space. It was only 4 in the afternoon and I was feeling ready for dinner. I didn't know how I could go into the village without raising as much curiosity as much as I did in front of Lady Tsunade.

I was clearly different from the people here and some wouldn't take kindly to me purely because I was clearly foreign. But I had a solution to limit the uproar. I had only come with a backpack filled with one day's change of clothes, weapons and bandages to wrap around my face.

Lady Tsunade assured me that I wouldn't have to worry about anything during my stay and I trusted her word, seeing as how she and her ninja accepted me quite quickly. I heard a knock on my door and opened it to reveal the Jonin who brought me to my room.

"A few of us would like to invite you to dinner tonight. Since you don't know anyone, we thought it was the best way to get you to meet a few people in the village so that you're not completely lonely."

I could tell that he was still curious about my origins by the way he looked at my hair but I didn't think much of it. "Thank you, I'll be there."

"That's great!" He beamed, "I'll send one of my friends to come escort you."

I spent about an hour in my room carving the few weapons I had brought with me. About 3 knives had already been sharpened and there were only 2 left, counting the one in my hand. I was in my own peace until I was interrupted by a knock.

That must be my escort.

I shouted that "I'm coming!", and wrapped bandages around my neck and the lower half of my face so only my eyes and forehead were shown. When I opened the door, I was met with the same white haired man who startled me earlier. "Oh, it's you."

He was reading a book as he leaned against the wall across my door, not caring that I wasn't pleased to see him. "Yes, it is me. I take it you're ready to go, Ms Amabel."

I narrowed my eyes, "How do you know my full name?"

"I asked around." He said as he flipped a page in his book, "Let's go, or else they'll finish all the meat."

I closed my door and followed the man - "Kakashi" - outside of the building and onto the street. This time, he didn't bother making conversation

"So what is the reason that you are so closed off that you can't even entertain a tiny conversation with me?"

Or so I thought.

You resisted the urge to scoff, his attitude was too nonchalant for your liking. He asked like it wasn't weird for him to be so curious about a visiting resident. "Come on, Ms Amabel, don't leave my poor soul hanging."

"I can hear your smirk inside your stupid mask."

"Ooh, a fiesty one, aren't you?"

"Are we there yet?!"

He closed his book and put it into one of his vest pockets, "Patience, bunny."

"Excuse me?!"

"Kakashi!" A loud voice called before I could continue, and it was coming from the entrance of the shop we were standing in front of. The voice belonged to a man donned in a green jumpsuit and vest with a shining bowl cut and bushy brows. "You're late to the dinner which makes me the winner of the race!" He exclaimed quite excitedly.

I heard Kakashi sigh beside me, causing my lip to quirk as I thought of him being irritated by something as pretentious as this guy in front of us. Suddenly, the intense man turned to you and came incredibly close to inspect me. I was weirded out already as he invaded my personal space but when he wiped his thumb on my forehead, I screamed. He responded by screaming as well and jumped back.

"Kakashi! What is this?"

He asked as if I wasn't clearly a person. Kakashi cleared his throat, "She's the representative of the Sand village we were told about last week, Guy."

"B-b-b-but... she's..."

"I'm what?" I asked softly, looking the now fearful man in the eye, daring him to say what was in his mind.

Aside from that startling question, I had a fairly good dinner. The jonin I met were all kind, even the super weird guy with his big brows. It gave me a slight sense of home and how all my comrades would find ways to make our table the loudest whenever we ate out.

Kakashi took me back to my place and by the end of the night, my thoughts about him had changed. At first, I was just skeptical about the sneaky guy and a tad irritated by his joking demeanor, but something about him seemed so genuine that I decided to give the guy a chance. I couldn't say he was attractive, purely because I couldn't see his face at all but something about his aura intrigued me about him. Why was he a mystery?

Scolding myself for thinking about him, I shook my head and gathered my things to get ready for the day. Since it was winter, the mornings were still dark but I estimated it was around 5 o'clock. I mentally thanked myself that I had braided my hair last night because who knew what state it would be in after my sleep.

I wrapped a towel around my body and grabbed my toiletries to go to the communal bathrooms. Of course, I had to use shoes inside because I didn't know what could infect me. Unfortunately, I didn't know which way to go and I stood, confused, at the at the top of a staircase at the end of the corridor.

"Wanna know where the bathroom is?"

"Shit!" I jumped at the voice right beside my ear, turning around to face a muscular, bare chest that belonged to none other than Kakashi. I looked up to his masked face and scowled. "Stop sneaking up on me."

"Where's the fun in that, Bunny?"

"Bunny? Why do you call me Bunny?"

He chuckled as if it was obvious. I couldn't stop myself from looking at his exposed torso and internally gasping at how well-built he was. "I call you that because you're so jumpy..." he leaned down beside my ear again. This time, I sensed him take off his mask so his lips brushed against my ear as he said, "...Bunny."

I couldn't move, even when he pulled away and walked past me.

"Bunny?" I quickly turned. "Aren't you coming to wash up?"

I almost cursed at his tilted head, "Fine."

As hard as I sounded on the outside, I was actually losing my mind at what just happened. He was so close to me and with only a towel around his waist. I couldn't deny that his body was amazing, and it had been a while since I last felt the touch of a man. Who knew what this guy could do with his hands, and a small part of me wanted to find out.

Two flights of stairs later and "We're here. The bathrooms aren't separated into male and female so everyone can see everyone. But lucky for you, it's just the two of us up this early."

Lucky? What's lucky about being naked around a guy I met a day ago?

It's a hot guy you met a day ago, my subconscious said.

Kakashi entered the bathroom swiftly, choosing a showerhead right in the middle and getting to his business. I took the showerhead opposite his because it was the best way to hide my body from him; if I chose one to the sides, he could easily have peeped over. I set the water to piping hot, turning around to let it hit my back just the right way and solicit a dragged out moan from me.

"That's an interesting sound."

I opened my eyes to see Kakashi facing me and his hair was drenched, falling over the one side of his face that wasn't exposed. "Eek! You pervert!"

I hurriedly overed my body with my arms and hands, turning back around and trying not to freak out. "I'm not the one who chose the shower closest to me."

It wasn't long until I felt his presence right behind me and something poking my lower back. Holy shit. "Nice ass, Bunny."

Without another word, I heard Kakashi leave the bathroom and I let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding. "What the hell just happened, Ama?"

It had been a weak since I had arrived at the Leaf village and I was still thinking about that moment I had with Kakashi in the bathroom. 1st of all, I didn't even know he was living in the same lodge as me, and 2nd, the man pretended as if nothing happened. He wasn't escorting me to places anymore due to how he had his own group of young ninjas to train and look after, which made me sad a little but I figured that the less we spent time together, the better.

I attended training every single day, spending a total of 12 hours learning techniques and the basics. I had a kind mentor named Anko and she was patient with me. She praised the fact that my body was in good enough shape to handle the training and questioned me about why my chakra was so strong for someone who wasn't a shinobi at my age of 19. I didn't know anything except for the fact that the woman who found me as a baby, was a witch who gave me power to survive in Japan.

She looked after me while she stayed in the Sand Village and it was only recently that she left on her "next quest", she put it. I was sad that the woman who moulded me into who I am today had to leave but I understood her reasons.

It was only midday and Anko had taken me to the forest to do target practice with my knives and shuriken. We had been going at it for a while until a ninja disturbed us, whispering to Anko about something I was obviously not supposed to hear. "Ama. I have to leave."

"What? But I haven't finished my training for today."

She sighed and started walking backwards as the other ninja ran, "I know, I'm sorry. But they've sent someone here to help you for the rest of the day!" Her voice drifted as she got farther away.

I huffed and rolled my eyes, a bit bummed that she wouldn't be here later to spar with me.

"Aww, don't pout, Bunny."

I looked up to see Kakashi hanging from a tree. "What the hell is up with you and sneaking up on me? Do you enjoy seeing me lose my breath?"

"Of course I do!" He jumped down to stand right in front of me, "I wanna try another way of making you do that, though."

My jaw dropped as soon as he said the suggestive words, "How can you be so relaxed about saying words like that?"

"I have nothing to lose, Bunny." He started going to different trees and marking them with Xes as he spoke to me.

"What about your job?"

"Why would I lose my job for giving you an extra warm welcome?" He looked at me. "It's not like you don't enjoy it."

"...Liar." I hesitated.

"Is that why your nipples were so hard in the bathroom last week?"

He had me speechless, I didn't know what to do in front of this guy. He was too good at being himself.

"Anyways, let's carry on with your training, yeah?"

"You're Anko's substitute?" I resisted the urge to laugh but I ended up letting out a chuckle at the thought of this guy teaching me. "You have to be kidding me. You can't be as good as Anko."

"No, Bunny, I'm better. Have you not heard of my reputation?" With each word he spoke, he took a step closer to me, "I'm one of the Leaf Villages best ninja. See this eye right here," He lifted his headband to reveal his left eye which was a bloody red colour and decorated by a long scar running vertically down the skin over underneath, "this eye lets me figure out my prey's moves before they can even make them. They call me the copy-ninja because I always catch my prey, and Bunny..."

He did something I wasn't expecting and placed his cold hand on my exposed midriff. "Kakashi."

"You are my most enticing prey."

I only saw pale skin for a second when Kakashi pulled his mask down, before he crashed his lips into mine and started kissing me like he was starved. My body reacted on its own as I melted into his body and let his arms support me while I let him suck on my tongue.  This kiss was unlike any I had ever had; it was full of hunger and want and passion, most of it coming from him but it was a moment where I couldn't deny my strong attraction to him.

One of his hands travelled to my thigh, which he hiked up and wrapped my leg around his waist. The other quickly followed and he leaned me against a nearby tree to make things easier. Soon, his lips moved from my lips to my jaw to my neck and it wasn't until they reached the top of my cleavage that I had to stop him.

"Kakashi, wait."

He stopped. He leaned his forehead on my chest and I could feel his grip on my thighs loosening. In the next minute, Kakashi had put his mask back on and let me stand on me feet, leaving space between us for me to talk.

"I don't want to do this here."

"I can see that. Let's get to your training, shall we?"

I couldn't sleep. No matter how hard I tried. For the past 3 days, I couldn't get the image of that kiss I had with Kakashi in the forest and I was yearning for more. Fed up, with the cycle, I grabbed the nightgown I had bought a few days ago and wore it before stepping out. I knew there was a rooftop so I headed up the stairs and stepped onto the gravel before I noticed, at the rail, none other than...

"Kakashi." I breathed out.

His figure turned and as he did so, the moonlight shone on his body, making the muscles look better than ever. "Ms Amabel."

I chuckled as I walked towards him, "What, no 'Bunny' today?"

He smiled and that's when I noticed that he had his mask off. I couldn't see much because of the dark but I could tell that he was beautiful. He had a long, pointed nose that was slightly upturned and his lips were soft but plump, exactly as how I felt them against mine. He had a mole next to his bottom lip that made him look even more charming. This man was a dream. "You like it when I call you Bunny?"

Suddenly, I got shy and looked down, playing with my thumbs. "Well... yeah."

He grabbed a hold of my waist and pulled me flush against his body. Even though he was wearing long pants, I could feel his hard-on against me. "If I call you Bunny, what do you call me?"

This man seemed hellbent on fucking me. The way he spoke and the way he held me - the way he looked at me. It's like I was... his prey.

"Well?"

I looked into his differently coloured eyes and found myself getting lost in them. "Kakashi..."

He laughed boisterously, "Really? You're gonna stick with Kakashi?"

"No... I was thinking maybe, Daddy?"

He let out a groan and his grip was tighter on me, "Don't joke with me, Bunny."

"I'm not." Now I looked at him more intently. I needed us to get into a room now. "Let's go." I whispered into his chest.

Before I could say another word, he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.

"Kakashi!" I giggled while he snickered. He basically jumped down the stairs until we reached his room and he slammed the door shut with his foot.

I was thrown onto the bed, resting back on my forearms to admire his physique. Moonlight peaked though the window and highlighted his body. "You're staring quite a lot, aren't you?"

"Got a problem with it?"

"Not if you'll let me return the favor." He grabbed a chair and made himself comfortable, manspreading right in from me.

Usually, I was a person who liked to keep to myself but when it came to pleasing a partner - especially one who made me as aroused as Kakashi - I had no boundaries. I figured I'd tease him a little bit before I got to showing him what he wanted to see.

"Come on, Bunny, don't make me beg." His voice was soothing as he watched me let down the straps of my nightgown one by one. He followed my hands as they played with the hem and started lifting it up. The closer I got to exposing myself, the more Kakashi leaned forward, but I pulled it back down at the last moment, giggling at Kakashi's shocked face.

I knew it! "You're a perv, Mr Hatake. But that kinda makes me excited."

Finally, I pulled the dress over my head and threw it on the floor. I felt my boobs bounce as I let Kakashi drink in the sight of me. "It's gonna be hard for me to keep my hands to myself if I watch you."

"Then touch me, Daddy."

Kakashi swiftly glided to kiss me, holding my hands to the bed by my wrists as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. I was already a bit wet from feeling his dick earlier but he was making me wetter. He wasted no time getting to kiss every inch of my body, from my neck to my boobs, my tummy and legs. He paid special attention to my boobs and thighs, saying they were "fucking amazing" which only led me to yearn for him more.

The way his hands were all over my skin made me burn up and his voice as he praised my body made me all the needier. "Kakashi..."

"Yes, baby..."

His hand travelled to my mound which caused me to gasp as he cupped it.

"I'm gonna make this mine, Bunny."

A slim finger slid up my slit, collecting the sticky wetness that had already collected there. I watched as he started to play with my pussy. Kneeling in front of my open legs, Kakashi circled and pressed against my clit in such a way that had me squirming. He was taking his time with me but all I wanted was to feel him deep inside my heat.

I was only letting out soft, sweet moans; back arched and head thrown back when he started to tease the area around my opening. "Please..." I sounded like a whore.

He pushed the fingers I fantasized about in the past into me, making me tense in pleasure. In and out, he started to maneuver them, making me writhe from his touch and play with my own boobs.

"Ah... yes, Kakashi, just like that." I mewled as I felt his fingers curling inside me; they kept hitting a spot that made me go crazy, and my sounds seemed to encourage him.

"You look so beautiful right now, Amabel. My hand's covered in your juices and they're glistening in the moonlight right now, baby. That's how wet I made you, you know that?"

Kakashi himself was breathless as he watched my body shine with sweat while I kept myself from screaming at his touch. With the pace getting faster, so did the frequency of my moans.  "Ah...ah! Oh my God, Kakashi, please make me cum."

Those words triggered him to grant me my wish as his mouth latched onto my clit and he got to licking and sucking. I felt it coming soon and struggled to keep my hips on the bed, Kakashi's hand on my lower belly the only thing keeping me steady. He moaned, the vibration causing me to still as I felt my stomach twist into the tightest knot.

"Kakashi, I'm cumming!!!"

I cried through my orgasm as I rode his fingers and face. I opened my eyes through it and he was watching my pussy convulse and pulse as kept pumping his fingers. "That's it, Bunny. Cum for me more."

He had a sadistic smile as he watched me lose control, finally deciding it was time for him to feel you around his length. Kakashi pulled out his fingers, before suddenly slamming his hard dick into my tightness. I silently screamed, rolling my eyes to the back of my head as he tried to burrow deeper inside me.

"Fuck, baby, it won't fit."

He took a deep breath before starting to roll his hips. They moved in waves, a continuous rhythm that had his penis entering and pulling out of my pussy in regular intervals, the squishing of my wetness very prominent in every thrust. "Ka-ka-shi..."

I purred into his ear while he buried his head in my neck, biting and kissing at my skin while one hand fondling a breast. "You feel so good, Bunny. Fuck, it's so tight."

"Mmmm Daddy, please go faster." I pulled his hair one last time before he lifted himself off my upper body and started thrusting at a greater speed. The sound of our skin slapping along with our moans and groans and cries made the room as erotic as ever.

"I'm gonna make you cum so hard, Bunny. Just look Daddy in the eye and make sure you let me know just how good I'm making your pussy feel."

Right when he placed my legs over his shoulders, I did what he said and good God, did his Sharingan eye not make me cum. "Daddyyyyyy!!! Ughhhhhhh!!!"

I screamed his name while the eye glowed and tears flowed down my face since he kept going and pounding me relentlessly as I orgasmed. I felt another one coming when he kept hitting my g-spot and tightened around his thick shaft, my walls keeping him locked in his position. I could feel him throb inside me. "You're so amazing, baby. Daddy's not even close to being done with you."

He pulled out, making me see just how big he was. He had to be at least 10 inches, with a good girth as well. I couldn't admire his appendage long enough because he flipped me over with ease and like before, rammed into my already sensitive heat. My juices were already coating my thighs and the area above his dick, I wondered how long he could go.

"Kakashi!" The man held my arms behind my back with one hand and grabbed my throat with the other. As soon as he pulled my body up, he didn't stop fucking up into me. We kissed as I felt another one coming, the lack of control I had over myself turning me on to the maximum. I felt the blood to my head stop circulating and felt my eyes closing.

"You wanna pass out taking my dick, Bunny? Hm, you wanna go to sleep knowing I own your pussy like this?" His voice was gruff, as if a monster had taken over him.

"Yes Daddy, please. Make me yours now. I'll do anything to feel it again, just use my body how you want!"

His grip on my neck tightened and again, I looked at his red eye. As if he saw what was coming next, Kakashi widened his eyes and gave one last thrust into me and we both came. His eye glowed brightly as he coated my walls with his seed and held my body as I shook from my most intense orgasm.

Surprisingly, he still felt hard inside me so he gave one last thrust that triggered something in me causing my body to let go of so much liquid it wet most of the sheets. It went on for a few moments as my strangled moan came out while my pussy spasmed again. "Fuuuuuck Kakashi!"

He kissed me deeply for a few seconds before delicately, guiding my body off his dick. I felt our combined cum spill out of me but I didn't have the energy to worry about it. Instead, I turned to look at Kakashi who had the biggest smile on his face as he looked at me.

"Where are we gonna sleep?" I inquired.

[monaisme]

One Week Later - Chapter Four

This is the sequel to my one-shot, “The Battle”

Going through a magical portal was definitely one way to distract from the nerves borne of having to step back into one’s life five years later and all the chaos that came with it.

The portal didn’t seem like a big deal after the fact, especially after spending the last days watching the successful use of them as those remaining in Wakanda were reunited with family and friends. It didn’t stop Peter’s brain from wondering for a quick second how Wong’s magic worked—if he was really just stepping through or if there was more to it?—Like the transporters in Star Trek. Maybe that ring he’d been wearing contained technology that manipulated the particulate in the atmosphere and—

His train of thought derailed as Mr. Stark finally came through the portal and the circle shrunk and fizzled away into nothing.

“Well,” he announced as he glanced back at the vanished means of entry, “That wasn’t my flashiest entrance, but it’ll do.”

Mrs. Stark rolled her eyes and stepped up to give him a kiss. “Yes, dear, whatever you say.” She teased as she caressed his cheek. “That exit, though...” She gave her husband a playful wink and then patted his face. “The Divine Miss M would be proud.”

Mr. Stark smirked, “Yeah, Wong will definitely pay for that later.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer then planted a soft kiss on her lips. He mumbled, “I’m so glad we’re home.”

Peter had watched as they did their flirting thing, but mention of home had him looking away pretty quick. He fought to tamp down his discomfort.

Five years ago, Mr. Stark had been freshly engaged and behaving exactly how Mr. Stark was expected to behave, all snark and sarcasm with the occasional emotional outburst.

And Mrs. Stark was, well—she was Pepper Potts, but not just Pepper Potts. She was Ms. Potts; CEO to Stark Industries, #1 on the Forbes list of “100 Most Powerful Women” in 2017, and MJ had just told him—he sighed as he mentally corrected himself, MJ had told him five years ago that she was creeping up on Oprah and Beyonce in terms of net worth. He’d met her a few times when she’d stop by the lab to make sure Mr. Stark was drinking more than just coffee and consuming actual food—not just the mystery smoothies Dum-E would make for him on occasion. She’d been intimidating, but always polite and kind and left the lab with a smile for Peter and a peck on the cheek for Mr. Stark.

And while he’d been stuck in that stone? Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts had gotten married, built a home... moved on, and here he was— Peter was getting tired again just thinking of it.

Five years later was weird.

Peter scuffed his toe against the floor, unintentionally drawing attention to himself.

Mr. Stark straightened the two of them up and turned to him immediately, making sure to grab his wife’s hand. “Yeah.” It was Mr. Stark’s turn to blush. “Sorry about that. I guess we’re all a little relieved to be back, right? We can finally get back to normal?”

Peter chuckled quietly and shrugged as he refused to look up at the pair. “I guess?” He replied, but in his head, he knew better.

“Well,” The pair moved closer to him and Mr. Stark put a supportive arm around his shoulder. “I’m not even going to ask what you want to do, kid.” Mr. Stark stated as he turned Peter around and started walking him through the living room of the penthouse, “but before we figure out when you can see May, I need to know if an in person visit is even in the cards for today. I’ll just pop down to the med bay and have a quick chat with the doctor and—“

Peter didn’t think before he stopped moving and the words fell out of his mouth, all desperate and pleading. “Can’t I just come with you?” Mr. Stark was opening his mouth to say no, Peter was sure of it, so he kept going, “I don’t even need to talk to her! I’ll stay back and out of the way and everything. Please? I just want to see her.”

Mr. Stark couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. “Pete, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

But Peter was determined. “But it’s May, Mr. Stark!” He begged. “And you can’t tell me she hasn’t missed me, I mean, it’s been five years for her and I know she’d want to see me—“

“Kid, that has nothing to do with it. I promise. You know what your aunt is like.” Mr. Stark seemed to hunt for his next words, “She’s a beast in the best possible way—but now? She’s not, and the last thing she’d want is for you to see her... less than one hundred percent because then she’ll get upset that you’re worrying about her and then you’ll end up getting upset and none of us want that either, do we?”

Peter tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “No. I get it, that’s cool. Just...” He trailed off before he said something stupid. He understood. He’d heard the doctor only a couple of hours earlier and he knew he couldn’t just go running into the med bay to throw himself at Aunt May. Stuff was going on and he wasn’t going to get in the way of it.

“Let’s give her chance to put on her game face, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter couldn’t have sounded more glum if he’d tried. He hated this.

“Hey, kid,” Mr. Stark pulled him into an awkward side hug as they all started walking again. “I promise you, we’ll get this sorted, but here’s what we’re gonna do. First, we’re gonna get you set up in your room,” they turned down into a hallway beyond the living room, “so you can take a nice, long shower—wash off all of those teenager cooties you’ve been sporting.” Mr Stark ruffled Peter’s hair as he attempted to lighten the mood. “Then, by the time you’re done, I’ll be back with all the information we need so we can make a plan, alright?”  

Peter nodded even though he wanted nothing more than to disagree with everything Mr. Stark was suggesting and make a break for the med bay. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. Five years ago, he was supposed to help get the gauntlet and then come home and train with the Avengers after May grounded him forever... and now, even his freaking homecoming was wrong. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to deal with all of this.  

Mr. Stark steered him through a doorway and stopped. “So, kid. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Peter blinked, confused. “Um, what—?“

“You’re room, buddy, what do you think?” Mr. Stark gestured into the room they were now standing in. “We tried to make it exactly like your old one... got FRIDAY to...”

Peter tuned Mr. Stark out as he stepped further into what was definitely a space meant for him. Now that he was paying attention, it took a second to know that he was in the exact same room Mr. Stark had put aside for his use before half of the universe disa—

It was like a needle scratching across a record in his brain. NO.

He needed to change the thoughts in his brain—wished it was as easy to do for himself as it was for the schematics laying about the lab... a swipe of the hand and BOOM, a fresh start—the lab he hadn’t been in for five years because he was trapped in a stone.

NO. He scolded himself again and clenched his fists tight; thrust them into the pockets of his sweatpants as he tried to reframe it. He needed to make it something else before Mr. Stark ended up looking at him that pitying way again. 

Okay.

It was the same room Mr. Stark had put aside for his use on those nights when they’d goof around with Mr. Stark’s tech until stupid late and then the two of them would fight over whether 80s horror movies were the superior movie genre when anyone with real taste knew that Star Wars and all things sci-fi was where it was at.

Yeah, that was better. He could do this.

He tried to relax his shoulders as he took in some of the details.

Peter was grateful that the room itself smelled as fresh and clean as the last time he’d been in it. The laundry detergent used to wash his bedding was even the same. His posters were on the walls and his books were back on the tiny bookshelf by the desk set up next to the wide expanse of window. The pens, papers, books, and even an unfinished lego project he’d left upon it during his last weekend were sitting in a box, waiting to be unpacked.

It was almost exactly where it was all supposed to be.

Almost.

And then—

Peter remembered an April Fool’s Day when he and Ned had been little. It had fallen on a Saturday, which of course meant a sleepover for the two new friends and, while May and Ben slept on, the boys had decided to be as diabolical as six year olds could be. It had taken all of three minutes, for all of the giggles and impromptu pillow fight, but they’d switched all of the red throw cushions from the couch with the brown throw cushions from the two armchairs in the living room. The cutlery tray in the kitchen was given the same treatment before Peter and Ned were satisfied with their first ever attempt at foolery.  

It was insanity, and May and Ben were absolutely baffled at how something so strange could have happened while they slept!

Peter smiled sadly at the memory as he realized this was that moment, except it wasn’t a goofy prank by two silly kids. It was like everything in the room was six inches to the left and Peter was supposed to be confused that something wasn’t quite right—

Nothing was right.

He wondered if this would be the thing that pushed him over the edge.

“Pete?” Mr. Stark asked again, softer this time and laced with an undertone of concern.

He closed his eyes for a moment then pasted a smile on his face. “It’s great, Mr. Stark.” He turned to face him, hoped he’d buy the ruse. “You wouldn’t know that anything was different except that my desk is finally tidy.”

Mr. Stark chuckled, “Look, kid, I know it’s not quite ri—“

“No! It’s absolutely fine!” Peter couldn’t allow him to acknowledge the imperfection of it or he’d lose it. “I hadn’t even thought about... this. It’s just like I left it,” he lied.

Mr. Stark wasn’t convinced. Peter could see it on his face. “Peter? Tell me what’s going on in your head. I can see that something is—“

“No.” Yup. He really needed to not be talking about it, “Everything’s great... this is great, Mr. Stark, thanks so much for doing this for me.” Peter then looked behind him to Mrs. Stark still standing in the hallway. “And you, too, Mrs. Stark. I’ll try really hard to not be irritating while I’m here.” He kept that same fake grin going, hoped for the best.

And then Peter put an arm around Mr. Stark and ushered him toward the door.

Mr. Stark pushed back a little, making his desire to stay obvious. “Pete? What are you doing?”

“Just what you asked, Mr. Stark. I’m gonna jump in a shower now and get ready for the day.” He’d gotten Mr. Stark one step into the hallway when the man pulled free of Peter’s unintentional restraint, turned around and braced himself in the door frame.

“Peter, stop.” He tried to catch Peter’s eye. “What’s going on?”

The question stopped Peter cold in his tracks. He was absolutely not prepared to answer the question. “What do you mean? I just said—“ He glanced over his shoulder back into the room. “Everything’s great.”

“Yeah, Pete, I hear you. You keep saying it. It’s great, but that’s not what I’m picking up here.” His voice held nothing but concern and he stepped closer to Peter. “Do you want to try again?”

And his plan had failed in all of one minute.

Dammit.

An unexpected anger flared, “No, I really don’t.” He hadn’t yelled, but he was a near thing. “Can I please just take a shower now?” He tugged at the sweatshirt that wasn’t his, stalked toward the dresser he’d yet to inspect and pulled open the drawer that thankfully held his t-shirts. He’d hoped it would be enough of a cue that Mr. Stark needed to leave, but that was apparently too much to ask.

“Peter, c’mon. I need to know what’s going on in that genius brain of yours. Do you want to talk? Do we need to change something about the room?”

“NO! It’s already changed enough!” Peter snapped. He grabbed his favourite shirt and slammed the drawer shut with enough force that the dresser hit the wall behind it with a crash. 

Mrs. Stark gasped at the outburst, bringing Peter back to himself.

He froze where he stood, his ears flushed with embarrassment at the loss of control-- being caught out. “Shit. I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

Mr. Stark stood silent as he waited for Peter to settle down, Mrs. Stark coming to stand beside her husband as the tension hung thick in the air.

And never before had he wanted Mr. Stark to leave him alone so badly.

“I think I need... can I just have a minute, please?” He whispered and fidgeted with the shirt in his hands.

“Peter, I don’t think we should--” his words cut off.

Mrs. Stark put a hand on Mr. Stark’s arm, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “Tony, wait a minute.” She gave Mr. Stark a ‘look,’ “It’s been a long week, and an especially difficult day for Peter. You go check in at the med bay while I check in with the others and give him a chance to catch his breath.” She addressed Peter next. “Does that sound like a good idea?”

Mr. Stark opened his mouth to protest, “But—”

Mrs. Stark didn’t bother to hide her glare. “I’m sorry. Did I pose that as a question?”

Even Peter knew from that tone that CEO Ms. Potts—um, Mrs. Stark was coming out to play, so he wasn’t surprised when Mr. Stark grumbled out a petulant ‘no.’

“Good.” She turned to Peter next, spoke kindly. “You take all the time you need, honey. I can’t imagine we’ll be longer than a half hour, but if you need more time than that, then you take it. We’ll meet up in the living room when we all finish. Does that sound good to you?”

Peter nodded a ‘yes,’ though he still refused to look at either of them.

She smiled, like the last minutes of Peter’s tantrum hadn’t happened, then continued. “Perfect. We’ll get out of your hair.”

She made to steer Mr. Stark out of the room, but he again stopped and turned to address his mentee. “Hey—“

But Peter refused to look at the man.

Mr. Stark tried again, “Hey, buddy. Listen to me. No one is mad. Okay?” He seemed to grapple with finding the right words for a second and then went on. “We all know this is messed up and no is going to blame you for not knowing how to react—but you have to talk to us okay?”

Peter couldn’t bring himself to respond.

Mr. Stark sighed, seemingly giving up on the moment. Peter glanced up, thinking he’d watch them walking out the door, but blinked in surprise at Mr. Stark waiting patiently for him to look up.

“If you need anything... if you need me, you let FRIDAY know and she’ll get me. Understood?”

Peter did nod at that, but kept quiet.

Mr. Stark sniffed and then cleared his throat. “Good. Go take your shower, sweetheart. We’ll see you in the living room when you’re done.” Peter thought he’d reach out to hug him, but he held himself back and Peter wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Instead, Mr. Stark grasped Mrs. Stark’s hand, gave Peter a wink and a nod, and the two of them left.

He waited a few seconds, listened for the concerned voices talking about giving him time to die away in the hall and then sighed in relief.

Finally.

Peter was alone for the first time since, well, he guessed five years ago. 

He stopped the thoughts again. It was too much, and he had thirty minutes to pull himself together, so that’s what he was going to do.

* * * * * *

Peter took a couple of minutes to be still and hoped it would be enough to get through whatever came next.

It wasn’t.

He did the breathing exercises MJ had taught the decathlon team before that huge meet against Bronx School of Science.

Maybe that took the edge of a little?

Finally, Peter gave up, realizing that it wasn’t going to matter what he did, at least for now. He just needed to get up and move.

And so he did.

He grabbed the rest of his clothes from the dresser, consciously ignoring the drywall dust on the floor behind it, and stepped into the ensuite.

FRIDAY had already started the shower knowing that Peter’s preferences wouldn’t have changed, so he stripped and stepped under the hot spray. He closed his eyes and counted his breathing again, but now that he’d moved from the quiet of his room, the urgency to get done and get to the living room started pressing on him.

He could do this. Whatever the world had in store for him, he’d manage. He’d done the whole starting over thing before, after all and hiding from it wasn’t going to change anything.

He wiped the water away from his face and grabbed the bottle of shampoo from the shelf, smiling to himself as he recognized the brand and scent on the label. He wanted to be quick, but he sound of the water beating against the ceramic tile and the soothing fragranced steam relaxed him more than he’d anticipated.

Maybe he’d be alright?

After a few more minutes of luxuriating in the heat, Peter finished washing up and stepped out to dry himself off, not bothering to do anything special with his curls. He slipped on his boxers then his jeans, keeping the towel around his neck so his hair wouldn’t drip everywhere. He finished off with one last vigorous scrub and tossed the towel into the hamper behind the door. He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, took a deep breath to center himself and caught a whiff of it...

He wondered how quickly Happy had been able to pull his stuff out of storage and how many times his clothing had been washed and washed and washed... all to try and get rid of that musty, unused smell that clings to old, discarded clothing. Except that the clothes hadn’t been outgrown or discarded—and below the layers of wash after wash he could still tell with his stupid enhanced senses that all that Peter was before was that stink of age and neglect.

An unnatural calm settled upon him as he pulled the shirt down from his face and left the bathroom.

He grabbed forgotten socks from another dresser drawer and sat himself on the bed to get them on.

He realized he’d get no reprieve from all of the reminders, and wondered why he wasn’t more upset.

It didn’t matter, though.

He looked at the clock on his bedside table. He’d already taken forty minutes and needed to get out to the living room. Mr. and Mrs. Stark were waiting—

And Peter figured that after five years, they’d waited long enough.

[anjuschiffer]

[Maribat] Sparks Au - Snippet 4

Well...its been a while! Enjoy!

Tags are after the read more line!

MASTERLIST | PREV

----

Context: It’s halfway through the week (as is four or maybe five days after Damian taking care of Alicia) and Luka is finding it strange as to why he hasn’t called to find out what Alicia’s weekly routine at school is like. So Luka reaches out first. Although it required being transferred over hundreds of times to even reach Damian’s personal number. 

------

Luka waited in the city park, tapping his foot as he mentally listened to the new piece he was composing. 

The sun was finally out, breezes were cool, the perfect day to stroll outside, or in Luka’s case, check in on his daughter...

He stopped tapping his foot, instead running his hands through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. 

His daughter, huh?

“Papa!” Alicia cried out, Luka snapping from his thoughts. “There’s so much I have to tell you about!”

——

The two men sat together at an ice cream parlor, listening as Alicia reencountered the past few days, Luka noticing how Damian kept interrupting her whenever she tried to mention school or whenever she was about to use Damian’s actual name. 

“-and yesterday! I won the dodgeball competition!” Alicia said with a grin. 

“Well done!” Luka said with a smile, Alicia’s grin growing wider. 

“It’s all thanks to Da-M.Wayne!” Alicia said, smiling at the man. 

“I couldn’t say no to helping you train for the match.” Damian said with a smile, before a frown replaced it. Luka narrowed his eyes a bit, wondering why he frowned. 

“Something wrong?” Luka decided to ask, Alicia’s eyes widening when she noticed Damian’s frown, quickly scanning the area. “Alicia, are you-“

“11 crows.” Damian bluntly said, looking at his phone. 

Luka watched as Alicia stopped looking around, quickly turning her attention to those in front of her. Luka frowned. 

“What else has M.Wayne helped you with while you are with him?”

“Aside from helping me with my homework,” a hum. “He also taught me some gymnastics!” Alicia said with a smile. “Did you know that M.Wayne has a brother who loves gymnastics? I wanna meet him one day!”

“You taught her gymnastics?” Luka asked with a raised brow, Damian looking at him before sliding a card at him. “Holy shit.” Luka whispered as he saw the card. “Do you know-“

“I’m a billionaire.” Damian casually stated, Alicia grinning, Damian’s expression softening. “I’d gladly throw any amount if it means that Alicia always has a smile on her face.” 

At that, Luka frowned, listening as Alicia talked about their new routine. 

They’d wake up, stretch together, Damian would make breakfast, take her to school, work on some papers while she did her homework if she didn't have school, they’d eat lunch, pick her up from school (if she had it), watch a movie, arts and crafts, make dinner and then watch another movie before heading to bed. 

“And I get to choose whichever story I want!” Alicia squealed, taking another bite of her ice cream. 

“Is that so?”

“Yup! M.Damian thinks it’s fine since my grades are always at the top of the class.”

“Don’t you think you’re pampering her too much?” Luka asked, watching as Damian didn’t look up from his phone.

“Pampering? She deserves to be rewarded for her hard work.” Damian said, lifting his eyes off his phone. “Besides, we both know why I do it.”

At those words, Luka’s lips morphed into a thin line.

“You can buy her as many materialistic things she could want, but that would never make up for the time you lost-”

“I know that.” Damian looks over to Alicia, watching as she savored her last spoonful of chocolate mint. “I just want her to be happy with the small amount of time she has with me right now.”

A comfortable silence settled over Luka, his shoulders relaxing upon hearing those words. 

That’s right. How stupid was he? At the end of the day, Alicia still thought Luka was her actual father.

“Well, I have to get back to the studio.” Luka said, getting up from his seat. 

“Papa, you’re leaving already?” Alicia cried, also getting off her chair. “It’s still too early for you to leave!”

“As much as I would like to stay, I have to get back to work.” Luka reminded her, specifically leaving Marinette out of the reasons why he had to leave. He didn’t want to ruin her smile. “But you can always call or FaceTime me whenever you want, okay?”

Alicia smiles at that, giving her father a grin, Luka wondering how many he had missed while she was under Damian’s care. 

“Okay!” 

“See you soon mon petit tresor.” Luka kissed her forehead, causing Alicia to erupt into a giggling fit.

Alicia and Damian watched as he left, Alicia waving her hand until Luka turned a corner.

“M.Wayne.”

“Dad is fine.” Damian reassured, watching her grin.

“Dad, Corvus was at three, not 11.” Alicia argued, stretching out her hands. It took Damian a while to figure out what she wanted before handing her the pastel blue bag he had recently bought for her. 

“True, Corvus was at three,” Alicia swelled with pride upon getting it right, “but this time I was referring to their number symbolism.” Damian watched Alicia mumble about the two systems as she worked with the tablet in her hands.

He let out a happy huff when he watched her connect the pieces.

“Are we finally going to launch the plan?!” Alicia squealed, her smile infectious. 

“Tomorrow, during lunch, you’ll start Operation: Get It Back.” 

“Should we start with observing her?” Alicia asked, handing the tablet over to Damian, the screen already tracking Corvus’ location. 

 Damian beckoned her over, Alicia dragging her chair over to Damian, the two looking over at the tablet.

“Seems like she’s…”

-

“I’m sorry about yesterday and trying to take the necklace from you.” Alicia said, looking Xochitl, Xochitl feet away from her. “I thought it was the one I lost. Maman’s necklace.”

“Well, it’s not. Ronald gave it to me.” Xochitl defended, putting her hands over the necklace.

“I-I know that, but it just looks like Maman’s.” Alicia said, about to take a step forward when she remembered Damian’s advice.

Ask before you touch. If you just try to grab it again, that’s it. The mission is over.

“Can I see it? I promise to let it go once I finish looking at it!” Alicia promised, raising her right hand and offering a pinky promise.

“You promise?”

“I do.” Alicia said, happy to see Xochitl seal the promise.

Xochitl let Alicia hold the necklace, not expecting her to cover the necklace in some weird powder, brush it off and saw some weird patterns on it.

“What is that?” Xochitl asked, about to touch it before Alicia stopped her.

“See that? That’s boy cooties.” Alicia said, Xochitl cringing at it. “This is to take it off.” Alicia explained placing tape over it, peeling it off and putting it into a plastic bag. “Dad knows how to forever get rid of boy cooties, so I’m going to give it to him.” 

“How did you know it has boy cooties?”

“Well, since it’s not mine, it should have.” Alicia said, storing the evidence away in her bag. “If it were my necklace, it wouldn’t have boy cooties since I never let anyone touch it. Not even Papa.” Xochitl looked at her in awe, tackling her into a hug.

“Thank you for getting rid of it! Oh! Did you watch the new episode of Untold?”

“I knew I forgot to do something! What happened?”

“Well…”

-

Alicia grinned as she saw Damian outside of the school, waiting for her with a smile on his face.

“Dad!” Alicia said, running to him, Damian catching her. “I got the prints of fingers!”

“Fingerprints.” Damian corrected, ruffling her hair. “Now that we have that, we can go to phase 2: Flip-a-roo.”

NEXT

Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @myazael @maribat-is-lifeblood @amayakans @bzz75 @mochegato @multplelifes @toodaloo-kangaroo @emo-elaine13 @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @aestheticnpoetic @littleblue5mcdork @gabbie-gabbs

I also want to apologize to @gabbie-gabbs for not noticing that I was missing your name on this AU and am so sorry it took me this long to realize QQ

[dannyphannypack]

DP/PJO Crossover

Hello losers and welcome back to Taylor Writes A Teaser and Later Deletes the Entire Thing Because She Decides She Doesn’t Like it but She Wants to Put the Teaser Somewhere Else Where Her Grimy Little Hands Can’t Reach it so the Teaser Isn’t Lost Forever to Time! The Series. Today I’ve got a prologue for my upcoming fic, The Phantom Recollection. Enjoy!

“Woah.”

Daniel Fenton, newly fifteen, stood outside the Washington Square Park in lower Manhattan with a cardboard box overflowing with weaponry. He stood in front of the park’s Roman triumphal arch, where two statues of George Washington stared down at him. Behind the president on either side were two other people Danny didn’t recognize.

Jasmine, Danny’s older sister by two years, came up behind him toting another cardboard box labelled ‘Samples.’ She nodded toward the eastern pier. “That’s George Washington as Commander-in-Chief, Accompanied by Fame and Valor.” Jazz recited the words as if reading straight out of a textbook. “And the other one is George Washington as President, Accompanied by Wisdom and Justice.”

“Ah, yes,” Danny said as he adjusted his box. Guns were heavy. “My four favorite people: Fame, Valor, Wisdom, and Justice. Love those guys.”

Jazz nudged him with her shoulder and continued through the arch, where a crowd of people were gathered around a large fountain with jets that spewed water 45 feet into the air. A few adults sat around the fountain with their feet in the water and kids ran across the surface in swimsuits and trunks. Danny watched as one kid walked a little too close to the fountain and got pummeled by falling water.

The perimeter of Washington Square was decorated in booths. While one half of the square was shaded by the surrounding trees, the other half was enduring the hot July sun. Some people had been smart enough to bring canopy tents. Others were already baking.

“There,” Jazz said, pointing. A single empty fold-up table on the other side of the square sat in the sun with a sign that read, “RESERVED — Fentons.” Danny used a hand to shade his eyes in an attempt to get a better look at it.

“I told you that you should’ve brought sunglasses,” Jazz said. Danny figured she was rolling her eyes underneath her own pair of aviators.

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny huffed. “Let’s just go before I drop this Fenton-Tech all over the ground.”

A big guy in a bright orange neoprene HAZMAT suit ran into Danny from behind, almost making him fall over. Jack Fenton carried seven stacked cardboard boxes. “Whoops!” he shouted. “Didn’t see you there!”

Danny figured he couldn’t see anyone, anywhere, but a similarly-dressed woman in a bright blue suit came up behind him and urged him along. “Jack, I told you that we could just take a second trip.”

Beside Danny, Jazz hunched her shoulders like she thought she could hide in a turtle shell. “If anyone asks, I’m not related.”

Danny’s parents were … quirky, to say the least. Danny rarely saw them without their suits in public, and Danny even less so with his mom’s hood and red-tinted goggles. Underneath was a chin-length bob of red hair and deep blue eyes, almost purple in color. She was nothing compared to his dad, though, who was easily six feet seven and built like an MMA fighter (minus the rippling muscles). Huge. Stocky. Shaped vaguely like a box. He was difficult to miss. Even behind the boxes, people that walked past were giving him strange looks. Danny figured that was bad, since they were at a ghost convention.

“Not any ghost convention!” His dad had exclaimed, barely a week ago. “The Haunted America Conference in Alton, Illinois!”

“It’s not in Alton anymore, Jack,” His mom had sighed like they’d been over this three times already. “They had to move it due to popular demand.”

“Where is it, then?” Danny asked.

His mom had beamed. “Oh, Danny, you’re going to love this: New York City!”

And that’s how they’d ended up in America’s most populated city, carrying ghost weapons across a supposedly haunted park in the middle of July. Danny was pretty good at telling where ghosts were and where they weren’t, and there definitely wasn’t anybody here. The land had once been used as a mass burial ground during the yellow fever, but the spirits had all moved on since. If Danny had died during the yellow fever, he wouldn’t have stuck around either. Children running playfully over his unmarked corpse? No thanks.

Danny set his box at the foot of the table. His dad was trying to bend down without spilling the contents of his seven boxes everywhere, and his mom was fussing over him. “Don’t worry, Maddie, I got it!” his dad said, and he set the boxes on the pavement a little too roughly. The bottom box made a noise like breaking glass and crumpled underneath the weight. Ectoplasm began oozing out the sides.

“I’ve got the other samples,” Jazz drawled, setting down the box. “If you need me I’ll be by the fountain pretending that I don’t exist.” She shouldered her backpack and walked away.

“I’m just gonna go, uh, walk around,” Danny said.

His mom opened her mouth like she meant to tell him to stay there and help set up the booth, but she replaced the expression with a hesitant smile. “Go have fun. Be back by noon.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Danny knew how much his mother liked physical reassurance, so he stood on his tip-toes and pecked her cheek. “Love you.”

She smiled. “Love you, too.”

Danny turned and started heading around the square, glancing at people’s ghostly booths without actually getting close enough to warrant a conversation. He didn’t get a chance to walk very far, though. While passing a section of the square that branched off into a sidewalk, an old lady in a black hood grabbed him by the hand and pulled him aside. Despite the temperature (and the outfit choice), her skin felt cold. Danny forced himself to remain calm. Not a ghost, he told himself. Still, the woman set him on edge. When she opened her mouth, she sounded like she was hissing. Between gasping breaths, she said,

“Three shall find the child of death

Who loses his mind with one gasping breath

The son of the sea god must attend

To repay the kindness of a forgotten friend

See that his memories are safely returned

Or the reign of the King will be overturned.”

Danny blinked and she was gone, melting into the shadows of a big elm tree. “Wait!” he shouted, but the old woman had disappeared.

A wild animal growled nearby, but it came from all sides and echoed like Danny was in a cave.

He shivered. Get it together, Fenton. You’re losing it, man.

Thinking about how characters in movies splashed their faces with cold water when they were upset, he turned and walked down the sidewalk in search of a restroom.

Jazz sat on the steps of the fountain. With her laptop balanced in her lap, she reached into her backpack and removed a flash drive from her key ring of flash drives. This one was marked by a little cartoon ghost painted in neon green nail polish. She inserted it and opened up the folder. More folders stared back at her. Ghost Psychology, Ghost Physiology, Ghost Physics, Ghost Theories, Ghost, Ghost, Ghost. Jazz pursed her lips. Maybe she should take the ‘Ghost’ out of all her folder titles. The nail polish ghost on her flash drive already told her what it was.

“Hey,” someone said from behind her, and she jumped. Pulling her computer screen down, Jazz turned and looked up at the girl who had spoken.

She might have been a bit younger than Danny, though Jazz couldn’t tell exactly. She had long, curly red hair and dozens of freckles that decorated her nose like tiny paint splatters. Her eyes were so green they practically glowed in the light of the sun, swirling with mirth and curiosity. She was wearing red running shorts and a white t-shirt, so she looked like she had just finished a jog. Jazz supposed that she might have; this was a park, not a year-round ghost convention.

“Hi,” Jazz replied, pushing up her sunglasses so that they rested on her head. She visibly relaxed.

The girl chuckled and sat down beside her. She began taking off her sneakers and socks. “Surprised to see a fellow redhead at the Haunted America Conference.”

Jazz looked up and observed the crowd. She didn’t know how she hadn’t noticed before, but the people wandering about the square were a sea of black clothes and colorfully-dyed hair.

Jazz snorted and reopened her laptop. “That’s why you came over here?”

“No. I happened to see your computer screen.” She leaned in close for a better look. “Ghost Psychology, huh?”

Jazz closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I know it seems weird—”

“No, I love it!” The girl said. “Everybody else here is all, ‘Palmistry, Chakra, Tarot Readings.’ You’re asking the real questions. What do ghosts think about? That’s what I’m interested in.”

If anybody else had said that, Jazz would have assumed they were being condescending. This girl, though … she could tell that she was just curious. “You believe in ghosts?”

“Yeah, sure,” she said, putting her feet in the water and kicking them back and forth a bit. “Why not? Had this weird experience at the Hoover Dam last month. Not a ghost, I think, but—” she cut herself off and bit her lip, like she was trying to stop herself from retelling it. She raised her hand for Jazz to shake. “My name’s Rachel. Rachel Dare.”

Jazz shook it politely. “Jazz Fenton.”

“Fenton, huh?” Rachel looked like that name sounded familiar but she didn’t want to say anything about it.

“Yeah, I know,” Jazz said, preparing herself for the obligatory ‘I’m a Fenton’ speech. “Parents are Maddie and Jack Fenton, ghost hunters extraordinaire. Last year they saved Amity Park from being annihilated by the Ghost King, yadda yadda.

“They did what?” Rachel squeaked, but she sounded more amused than shocked. “Ghost King?”

Jazz mentally berated herself. Without thinking, she’d started spewing the information that everybody back in her home state wanted to know. She hadn’t thought about the fact that she was in New York, hundreds of miles away. Stupid.

Rachel must have saw Jazz wince, because she switched gears. “So, ghost hunters,” she said. “Your folks got a TV show?”

Jazz took a second to process the change in topic. She blinked once. Twice. Suddenly, she burst out laughing.

“What?” Rachel yelled over Jazz’s laughter. “What’s so funny?”

Jazz giggled but calmed down. “Sorry. My parents having a TV show … I can’t imagine.”

“What do they do then?” she asked. “Ghost Tours?”

“Ghost—?” Jazz cleared her throat to keep herself from laughing again. “No, no, no, Rachel, you’ve got my family all wrong. Think, ‘shoot first and ask questions later.’”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “They shoot ghosts? How does that work?”

Jazz jabbed a finger behind her, where her parents had started on the box of weaponry. Her mom set the Fenton Bazooka down. Like anybody was gonna buy that.

Rachel gulped. “So I’m hoping you’re the ‘ask questions, shoot later’ one.”

Jazz nodded mutely and opened her Ghost Psychology folder. At the top was a folder labelled ‘Danny Phantom,’ but she scrolled past it to the general information. “My parents think that ghosts are inherently evil and have no thoughts of their own. They’re just a bad copy of their old human consciousness, wanting to get revenge on humans because they’re jealous that we’re alive or something. But they’re so much more than that. They have these—these ghostly obsessions.” She opened a Word document and began scrolling. “But they’re not evil obsessions. Sure, when they die, they can be like, ‘I’m going to make them pay.’ But usually it’s more of a gray area. Like, ‘I’m going to watch after my family,’ or ‘I’m never going to stop writing.’ What my parents don’t understand is that they’re not unary; they can think about other things. They aren’t limited to one state of mind.”

Rachel looked surprised at the sudden lecture, but she adjusted quickly. “Who is Skulker?”

“Oh.” Jazz paused and bit her lip. “He’s—he’s not the best.”

“What’s his obsession?”

“Hunting,” Jazz said, though she didn’t sound as excited as she had before.

“I’m guessing he’s not hunting for deer,” Rachel said, watching Jazz’s reaction. “Okay. Then … who is Danny Phantom? Why’s he got a folder to himself?”

Jazz’s eyes widened.

“Right. Another touchy subject.”

“No,” Jazz said, shaking her head. “No, he’s … he’s good. Great, even. I think he’s obsessed with protecting people.”

“Well, that’d good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah!” Jazz exclaimed. “I mean, yeah, it’s really good.”

Rachel stared at her. “But … something’s wrong?”

Jazz exhaled slowly through her nose, considering what she should and should not say. “He’s just a little … too protective, I guess. Never thinks about himself. Always rushes in when he could get hurt.”

“Ghosts can get hurt?” Rachel asked.

“This one can.”

Rachel could tell that Jazz didn’t want to talk about it, but she was curious. Choosing her words carefully, she asked, “What’s he like?”

Jazz smiled. “Oh, he’s great. Always saving the day. You know, everybody thanks my parents for the Ghost King thing, but it was really him. Our entire city was transported to a different dimension called the Ghost Zone. It’s where all ghosts live. The Ghost King had just woken up. People doubted his power. He was going to kill us all to set an example. Let everybody know that he was in charge.”

Jazz took a deep breath. “And then … well, Phantom couldn’t stand for that. He was already upset because … someone else got hurt. So he went up there by himself and beat him. He could’ve died.” Her eyes widened. “Well, not died, but he could’ve gotten hurt.”

They sat in silence for a moment, staring out at the fountain and watching the water splash against the surface. Some little kids ran by them, laughing. Rachel said, “You like this guy a lot, huh?”

That seemed to break Jazz out of her stupor. Her cheeks turned red. “Not romantically!” she shouted. “I care about him like a little brother. Not—” She put her face in her hands.

Rachel laughed and stood, shaking the water off her bare feet. “I’ve got to get going before my dad comes home for his lunch break and finds out that I’ve left the house. It was nice meeting you, Jazz.” She pointed at the laptop. “You keep that ghost science thing up. You never know. You might end up publishing it and becoming famous.”

“Your shoes,” Jazz said, grabbing the sneakers and holding them up to her. Her socks had been stuffed into the toes.

“Oh! Right.” She took them but didn’t bother putting them on; instead, she started walking up the steps and back into the square, barefoot. “And you keep that Phantom kid from doing anything stupid!” She added.

Jazz laughed. “I’ll try!” she shouted back.

Just like that, Rachel Dare was gone.

In hindsight, Danny should’ve known that he’d never get a break. Weird stuff had been happening to him since last year like clockwork. August: get ghost powers. September: fight ghosts. November: find out that a creepy old man has ghost powers, too. December: fight ghosts. On and on and on until now, watching people stumble through the gates of a sandy dog park behind the restroom he’d found. An old lady shuffled past him, screaming bloody murder. “Rabid dog!”

Danny turned back towards the dog park. That thing was no dog. Snarling angrily at a park ranger was a full-grown lion, 500 pounds at least. It snorted a small plume of red-orange fire. Danny blanched. Yeah, so maybe it wasn’t a lion.

Danny was still trying to process its more … interesting parts. From its back sprouted a black ram’s head, with big, curly ebony horns and a sneer almost as nasty as the lion’s. It, too, huffed, but only smoke came from its mouth. Thank god. Danny didn’t know if he could handle two fire-breathing heads. 

Then there was the matter of the tail. The golden fur grew in patches before tapering off into tough yellow and orange snake-skin. At the tail’s end was a full, honest-to-god python. As he watched, the snake looked up at Danny and flicked its tongue.

This was a ghost. It had to be a ghost, right? Sure, it didn’t glow like a ghost … and it didn’t float like a ghost … and it didn’t set off his ghost-sense like a ghost … but what else could it be? An animal experiment escapee from the Central Park Zoo? Danny seriously doubted that.

The park ranger pressed his back against the fence, which was a little too high for him to jump, and made a high-pitched whimpering sound. Danny shook his head. He didn’t have time for this. Whatever it was, he had to get rid of it.

Danny glanced nervously at the security cameras attached to the public restroom and nestled between the trees. Okay. He had to get rid of it, but without ghost powers. How?

Looking around for anything he could use, Danny settled on rock and tossed it twice into the air to test its weight. Deciding that it would work, he shouted, “Hey, Alex the Lion!” and threw it as hard as he could. It hit the creature in the back of the head.

That got its attention. Turning away from the ranger, the lion growled and set the floor around the gate on fire. Danny surveyed the fence. He wondered if he could jump it or if he’d seriously have to run through flames to get inside. Danny didn’t like heat. It wasn’t his thing. If he channeled a little flight into the jump, would it be too noticeable?

He didn’t have to think about it for very long, though. A boy and a girl, apparently unconcerned with the security cameras, catapulted over the fence on the other side and somersaulted into a standing position, one holding a dagger and the other holding an entire sword.

A sword. This day was just getting weirder and weirder.

The girl kicked the guy in the back of the knee, causing him to fall. She pushed him toward the lion. “Mmm, look, yummy demigod!”

“Annabeth!” The guy spluttered, standing. Just in the nick of time, too. Their entrance had caught the creature’s attention. It lunged forward. The kid jumped out of the way.

Danny raised his eyebrows. The girl, Annabeth, had her wavy blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore jean shorts and a hazard orange t-shirt similar to Danny’s dad’s suit. The guy was wearing the same shirt, though he had a pair of black basketball shorts on instead. Together, they shared a matching gray streak of hair. He wondered if they’d dyed it together.

In the other corner, the park ranger fainted.

With nothing but sand and rocks to fuel it, the flames around the gate died, allowing Danny to walk in like a normal person. Unlike the other two, he’d rather not high-jump a fence with security cameras watching. Even in New York he needed to keep up appearances.

The creature rushed toward Annabeth and its snake head-of-a-tail wrapped around her arm, squeezing until she dropped her dagger with a pained yelp. She looked down at it and kicked it in the general direction of the other guy.

Okay, my turn, Danny thought. He grabbed another rock (this one sharper, yay!), stepped through the gate, and threw it. It cut a long gash through the ram’s cheek. The lion turned to face him.

Both of the strangers looked surprised to see him there, like they hadn’t noticed a fifteen-year-old kid standing by the front gates. Honestly, Danny was surprised that he was still there, too. He had seriously considered running away when he saw them jump the fence. He had thought, Great! Back to my vacation, but his feet stayed firmly planted on the ground.

Annabeth recovered quickly. With the lion-goat-snake-thing distracted, she ripped her arm free of the snake’s grip and tumbled away.

The lion head roared, shooting fire across the park at Danny. He rolled out of the way and stood, bouncing on his toes. What he would give to be able to fly right now.

The other guy stared at him.

“What?” Danny snapped.

“Your pants are on fire.”

Danny looked down. Sure enough, the hem of his jeans hadn’t been as lucky as the rest of him. Patting it out, he shouted, “Dude!”

And then the lion was on top of him.

Now, Danny had been in some pretty sticky situations. The lion had his arms pinned on either side of his head. Danny couldn’t help but flash back to another time, when a ghost panther had been on top of him in the same fashion. It wasn’t the same, but still. Two giant cats pinning him to the ground in a year? That was sad.

On one side of him was Annabeth, on the other, the guy. Annabeth pointed frantically to his right. His eyes flicked in the direction she was indicating. Ah, yes, the dagger! He’d never be able to grab it with the creature’s full attention on him, though.

“Percy,” Annabeth said in a harsh whisper. He didn’t seem to notice. With a stomp, Annabeth ground out, “Per-see!” and nodded her head toward the dagger. He opened his mouth like, Ah, hyped himself up by jumping up and down, and started running top speed with his sword held high above his head, screaming.

The lion gnashed its teeth like it was annoyed. The goat head bleated angrily. The snake hissed. In one swift motion, the creature lifted one of its massive paws and hit Percy across the stomach. He flew backward into the metal fence.

Fortunately for Danny, that was all the time he needed. With one arm free, he reached for the dagger, got a hold of it, and pushed it into the lion’s chest. He cringed, bracing himself for the five hundred pounds of lion-goat-snake-thing that was about to die on top of him. Instead, it began raining sand.

Danny opened his eyes, sat up, and immediately began gagging. “It got in my mouth!” he yelled, though it sounded more like, “It got in me mouf!”

Percy, who had been thrown into the fence and didn’t look much better than Danny, had the audacity to start laughing. Danny turned and glared at him, using his hands to brush lion-goat-snake dust off his tongue. He only succeeded in adding more sand from the ground to his mouth.

Annabeth held out her hand for Danny and helped him to stand. Percy cleared his throat, like, Hey, aren’t you gonna help me up, too? but Annabeth just looked Danny up and down with a puzzled expression. Her eyes were gray like a storm cloud. “Who are you?” she asked. It sounded like an accusation.

Danny was still spitting sand and monster dust all over the ground. “Danny,” he said between gagging. “Bleh.”

“First time?” Percy quipped, helping himself up by leaning heavily on the fence behind him. He winced and held his stomach.

“I’m Annabeth,” Annabeth said. She gestured flippantly at her friend. “That’s Percy. I’ve never seen you before. Where did you come from?”

Danny furrowed his eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “You ever meet a tourist?”

Annabeth continued to stare at him. Shaking her head, she asked, “Where’s your parent?”

“Uh, parents? And they’re at Washington Square.”

“You have a stepparent?” Percy blurted.

“What?”

Percy changed gears. “You’re adopted?”

“What? No!”

Percy’s eyes widened. He muttered, “You’re like Rachel?”

“Who?” Danny and Annabeth asked in unison. For once he wasn’t the only one out of the loop.

“Look,” Danny said, brushing himself off. “This has been super fun, but I’ve got a ghost convention to get back to.” He turned on his heel and started stalking out of the dog park. What was up with them assuming he didn’t have parents? And people thought he was nuts.

“Wait!” Percy shouted. Danny paused mid-step. “Thank you.”

Danny considered that. He wasn’t supposed to be a hero in human form. It was dangerous. Even now, he was running through scenes in his head of these two stealing the security footage and putting him on YouTube or something. Highly unlikely, but anxiety twisted that in his head and made him more and more uncomfortable. He turned back around. “Look … don’t tell anybody about this, yeah?” Then, to disguise his nervousness, he said, “My parents would flip if they found out lion-goat-snake hybrids existed.”

“Chimera,” Annabeth said.

“Bless you,” said Percy.

“What? No! Percy, you of all people should know this. The Chimera is a Greek monster. Bellerophon shot it with the help of Pegasus. Do you listen to anything we tell you in camp?”

Percy shrugged noncommittally.

Annabeth fumed. “I—”

“You could come with us, you know,” Percy said, cutting Annabeth off. “To camp, I mean.”

Danny pretended like he was considering the offer. “Hmm, a camp with a Greek mythology class? No thanks.”

“It’s not a myth,” Percy said, rushing to get what he wanted to say out before Danny lost interest and left. “The Greek gods, I mean. They’re real. We could really use someone like you.”

Danny considered this. Right, so … crazy. They were crazy. If the Greek gods existed, why would there be a Ghost Zone? Didn’t spirits go to the Underworld in Greek mythology or something? But then again … what else could that lion-goat-snake thing be? It definitely wasn’t a ghost.

Danny shook his head. He had enough things to worry about. This was crossing into the Too Weird category. Turning, he said, “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve gotta go throw rocks at some other monsters. See you around.”

He walked out the gates and down the sidewalk towards Washington Square, thinking, I could really go for a sandwich right now.

[chemicalmagecraft]

Taiyuu OCT Bonus Round 2

@taiyuu-oct

Yukino didn't know much about Zuruko, other than the fact that she hated that girl. How could she, when she couldn't even remember talking to her? All she had was one memory of her, the pink-haired sheep girl telling her to go away. The rest of the information she had on her was from reminders made from cold letters appearing on her clothes seemingly at random. Yukino didn't know exactly how the girl's Quirk worked, aside from the fact that it erased memories and she apparently made no effort to control it or even turn it off, but to be honest that was all Yukino really needed to know.

Zuruko was dangerous, in Yukino's opinion. Her Quirk wasn't the most obviously dangerous, not next to things like 'generating vast amounts of fire,' 'creating turpentine,' or 'the ability to freeze anything, including the human body, in a matter of seconds,' but her attitude? From what Yukino could gather, Zuruko just didn't care at all what happened to other people from her not controlling her Quirk. Which, when that's something like memory erasure? Even if people haven't been hurt from it (that Yukino knew of; she highly doubted Zuruko had no blood on her hands at all keeping her Quirk on all the time like that), it still made Yukino's blood boil that she just didn't seem to care how potentially disturbing having large chunks of your memory just not present could be. As a fellow Emitter? Zuruko disgusted Yukino.

The last straw was when Yukino found herself roaring, covered in frost, in the middle of the dorm common rooms with no memory of how she got in that state. She could guess, of course, but having to make an educated guess about something like her own Dragon Rage made Yukino feel... sick. Violated, honestly. So she was a little relieved when, a few days later, Buck-sensei announced mandatory student-teacher conferences. She was already thinking about talking to Wolfie-sensei about Zuruko, of course, but that was the push she needed. As soon as Buck-sensei was done with his announcement, she hurried back to her room and picked up the notebook she'd prepared with all her complaints (and maybe some dirt) on Zuruko. She also picked up her scratching block while she was at it. She sighed at how worn it was. She'd need to get a new one soon, she really did a number on it. Especially over the past few days...

x x x

Yukino leaned back casually in her chair, scratching at her scratching block a little. "So, did you wanna talk about anything in particular or do I start?"

Wolfie-sensei stared at her scratching block. "What's with the block?"

Yukino shrugged. "Scratching block. Made for people with claw mutations and stuff like that. It's kinda like a scratching post, except portable and a little more dignified. It keeps claws healthy, too. It cool if I keep it out?"

He nodded, writing something down on a notepad. "Looks a little worn, though."

She sighed. "Yeah, I'm gonna have to get a new one soon. It's also a little... cathartic, I guess, when I'm stressed. Probably some dragon instinct or something. Ssso I kinda tend to scratch at it a lot when something bad is going on. Still, better a block that's made to be scratched up than someone's face or a couch, right?"

"That makes sense. Please talk to me or another teacher about getting a new one later." He wrote on his notepad again.

Yukino nodded. "'Course." She held up the block, studying its surface. "And as for why it looks so scratched up, I've been kinda upset the past few days. Been wanting to bring it up with you, actually, so this was pretty convenient. Did you know that sometimes residual mutations from a parent or grandparent's Quirk can include some form of their Quirk's drawback? Usually it's weakened, but it can still cause some annoyance..."

"What are you getting at?" her teacher asked.

Yukino remembered the first time it happened. It was so long ago, only a year after she got her Quirk. One moment one of her classmates was telling her how weird her mom looked despite her protests, the next she was being restrained by her teacher, her throat hoarse from screaming and her hands cold and sore from the frost-covered claw marks on the ground. Her mother explained to her later, how her emotions could rage out of control if she was scared, angry, or hurt enough. And unfortunately Yukino ended up having to change schools after that, even though she hadn't hurt anyone...

"We call it Dragon Rage," Yukino said. "Think of it like... whenever my flight or fight response hits, it tends to hit hard. Typically 'fight,' too."

He wrote that down, brow furrowed. "Should I be concerned?"

Yukino shook her head. "I've been dealing with it almost as long as my actual Quirk, and believe it or not I'm normally pretty responsible with stuff like that. As far as I know I've only had a Dragon Rage attack twice in the past year, and only one of those was really bad. I'm kinda proud of how well I'm doing with it." Yukino smiled at Wolfie-sensei, but then put her block on the table and steepled her fingers together, letting a colder expression take over her face. "So you can imagine how uncomfortable I might have felt suddenly waking up from a particularly bad Dragon Rage with no memory of how I even got to that point, right?"

Wolfie-sensei raised an eyebrow. "Is that normal?"

She shrugged. "If it's bad enough it's possible that I could have a few holes in my memory, but I will always remember what got me riled up in the first place. Sometimes even more vividly than normal, if it's particularly bad. So how, then, do you think that I lost those memories?"

"That's rhetorical, isn't it?"

"Zuruko Kayaki." Yukino pulled out her notebook, throwing it on the table. "Supposedly she has zero control over her Quirk, which in my opinion is a really bad thing even if it's not some form of memory erasure. I've managed to document a few bits of evidence that make me... doubtful of that fact, though. Or at least, doubtful that her Quirk can't be controlled, even if she really can't control it. She could just not be putting the right effort in or has some sort of mental block she has to work through, which is still on her by the way. Probably part of why I got so angry in the first place. To be honest it's starting to get really disturbing having my memories just have random holes like that, so even if I'm wrong I'd like you to do something about her."

Wolfie-sensei picked up the notebook, flipping through a few pages. His brow furrowed. "We've been dealing with Zuruko-chan already, but this is a serious accusation. Do you mind if I take this?"

She gave him a thumbs-up. "Go ahead, I figured you might."

"If you don't mind me asking, though, why are you so annoyed at Zuruko-chan?" he asked.

Yukino rested her head on her hands. "I mean, probably the most obvious bit? I reserve the right to be very annoyed with anyone who does anything to my mind without my explicit, informed consent. Don't get me wrong, I don't categorically hate people with mind-affecting Quirks or anything, but you can get why I wouldn't be too appreciative of stuff like that happening to me without my permission, right?"

Wolfie-sensei sighed and nodded. "That's fair."

"Good, good," Yukino smiled at him. Or perhaps it might have been a little more accurate to say she bared her teeth at him. "Now I get that she says she can't control it or anything, but that doesn't mean she can't take responsibility for it either, which from what I've been able to see she hasn't done either. And that one's totally on her by this point, in my opinion."

"What's the difference?"

"They make three-fingered gloves for people whose Quirks activate automatically when they put all five fingers on an object. People whose Quirks activate automatically through any skin contact usually wear gloves and long sleeves. Neki-chan has that one Quirk-nullifying thing. Worst comes to worst, I've heard of support companies who make what are basically inverted hazmat suits for people with severely biohazardous, radioactive, or whatever Quirks," Yukino listed.

She picked up her block and started fidgeting with it. "Not that Zuruko would need something as heavy-duty as that, probably. There's gotta be a way easier way to stop her Quirk's effects. I know, for one, that my grandfather's mind control can be stopped by something as simple as a thin sheet of tin foil on his horns. No Quirk is invincible, after all. Mine has limitations, yours does, and there is no way in hell Zuruko's Quirk or its effects can't be stopped in any way. Even still, the only gaps in my memory are in common areas." Yukino scratched at her block a little too forcefully, then shook out her hand because the motion hurt her fingertips a little. Her claws weren't Quirk-reinforced, so scratching something too hard really hurt. "If it was only if I tried to go in Zuruko's room that my memories were erased I maybe wouldn't have quite as much of a leg to stand on, but why should I have to avoid common areas if I don't want to randomly be affected by someone else's Quirk?"

"I'll look into that, but for now let's move on."

Yukino nodded, her posture relaxing again. "Long as you understand where I'm coming from. What next?"

"Why are you here at Taiyuu?" he asked.

Yukino chuckled. "If that isn't a question I've been asking myself for the past few days... Do you want Taiyuu specifically or why I wanna be a hero in general? Because the answer's different depending on which one you want."

"Let's hear both, if you don't mind."

"First, hero in general. It was... a combination of factors. For one, I have two heroes in my family already. I mean, Ryuji only recently graduated from UA, but Gong'gong-my grandfather-has been one for over half a century. But that was just some of the inspiration. I think... a couple weeks after I got my Quirk, I happened to see a pro with an ice Quirk fighting a villain, which I thought was super cool." Yukino raised a hand, cutting Wolfie-sensei off as he opened his mouth to say something. "Buuut those are just petty reasons that I'll admit probably shouldn't be my entire reason. To be honest if those were my only reason, it's possible I could've ended up training to take over the family restaurant instead." Yukino took a deep breath. "I think... my reasons for being a hero shifted after my... g-grandmother died." Yukino bit her lip and rubbed her eyes. This wasn't going to be easy to talk about, but she probably should.

"You don't have to tell me what happened, if you don't want to," Wolfie-sensei assured her. "I think I can get the picture."

She took another deep breath, nodding. "Th-thanks. I think... if a little girl walked up to me and thanked me for saving her grandmother, that'd be just as much of a victory to me as getting in the top ten."

Wolfie-sensei nodded. "Thank you for telling me that."

Yukino nodded. "You're welcome, I guess. As for why I went to Taiyuu... To be honest I just didn't feel like going to UA. I mean, this did seem pretty nice... from the entrance exam, anyway... but..." Yukino sighed, scratching lightly at her block. "I probably could've gotten into UA if I applied myself, but I just didn't feel like going to my brother's school, even though it's supposed to be super good." She gave Wolfie-sensei a wry smile. "How dumb is that?"

"You should never regret going to a school."

Yukino snorted. "You're right, I shouldn't."

"But you are. Why is that?"

Yukino rolled her eyes. "I haven't learned a thing here that I couldn't have just asked my brother about, everything not made of dirt looks like a rush job, oh, and how could I forget how much you've done about the girl with the supposedly uncontrollable mind-erasing Quirk?" she listed.

"We are actually working on Zuruko-chan's issues. We haven't just ignored the problem and hoped it'd go away."

Yukino's expression turned cold, and even though she hadn't used her Quirk the temperature in the room seemed to drop by a degree or two. She crossed her arms. "Oh? So those holes in my memory that only pop up when I see Zuruko are not, in fact, caused by Zuruko's Quirk?" Yukino slammed a hand on the table, using it to push herself up. Her claws left small scratches in the cheap wood. "Thank you for your time, but I should probably go see a doctor about that, then."

Wolfsboon sighed. "Okay, I get it. We'll do something about her, just sit down so we can finish."

Yukino sat. She did her best to make it obvious, though, that she still wasn't happy with Wolfsboon. "Fine. But I'm holding you to that."

"Okay, next question." Wolfsboon looked at his notes, then sighed audibly. "Okay. How, aside from dealing with Zuruko-chan, can we make your experience here better?"

"Do something about the hot water. The heating isn't the best, but I brought a space heater for that just in case. The water, though... I have to wake up fully before leaving my room or I could end up falling back asleep with how the heating is at the moment, that's more or less a drawback of my Quirk, so by the time I get to take a shower there usually isn't much water left, if at all. Cold water is really bad for me, Quirk drawback again. I don't sweat, so I can go longer without taking a shower before I feel gross, but I'd still like to be able to go from bedroom to shower every morning without Quirk drawbacks popping up at some point, y'know? Morning routines are good to keep up."

"I'll see about it, but there's only so much we can do. Next, what plans do you have for the future? Not just hero work, but do you have any backup plans?"

"Ehh, let me think..." Yukino narrowed her eyes and stroked her chin, thinking. "Okay, I should probably put a little more thought into that, but my dad's restaurant isn't going anywhere, so that's something. As for hero work... I will be villain fighting, but I feel like I could probably do well with search and rescue, too. I mean, I'm pretty sure that I'd at least do pretty well with fires." She shrugged. "Still, probably should put a little more thought into it. Anything else?"

He shook his head. "Unless you have something else you want to bring up, you're done here. Thank you for your time."

Yukino got up. "Cool, I'm gonna go now. Bye." Yukino lazily waved at him as she walked out the door. "Thanks for taking my concerns seriously," she added half-heartedly.

x x x

Yukino sighed and sat down on her bed. She opened up the contact list on her phone, pressing the call button on one of the first names on the list. She put her phone up to her ear, hearing it ring. "C'mon, pick up you jerk," she muttered.

Click. "Yuki-chan? What's up?"

"Hey, Niichan." Yukino sighed and rubbed her face. "Do you know if it's possible to transfer into UA?"

"I'll... have to look into what you’d need to do for it, but I doubt you can’t." There was silence on the other end, then he spoke again. "Do... do you want to talk about it?"

Yukino bit her lip, trying not to cry. "I... don't know. Maybe later."

"Well, if you change your mind just give me a call. Love you." He ended the call.

Yukino curled up into a ball. "Love you, too..." she sighed.