#but he sent her this one for free and im not entirely certain why

[kawaiianimeredhead]

If yall were ever curious what it's like to hold a mantis, at least an adult giant Asian mantis, it kind of itches

Fun facts for you all

[regretisstoredintheme]

Indulgent thoughts? Indulgent thoughts. 

I was told that if I ever had indulgent thoughts (about Leo specifically???? What 😭😭😭) I had to share them, so… *sighhhhh*

YOU TWO. (@soradragon and @milks-thoughts) ASKED FOR IT.

Disclaimer that most of this was improv.

For context: I had this really bad interaction with Celina’s Yan!Leo ai, (I had tried to correct it but I ended up having to just delete the convo.) Anyways, after I had recovered from it, it got me thinking abt a post the aforementioned mutual, @pianocat939 made. I realize how much of a bad idea it is to @ her, but I’m already exposing myself, so WHY NOT 😀 

HI CELINA 👋👋 IM ON TV!! IM BEING A BRAVE BOY 😀😀😀 

Anyway

—

The idea is that you— or I guess me?? Ehh I’ll put it in a ‘Y/n’ format so it makes more sense. (Tw for Yandere behavior) 

Y/n had been held captive by a version of Yandere Leo that was a lot more— physical, ig?? and who felt completely content with making them feel like the scum of the earth. He had violent mood swings, and picked— no, more like dug at any insecurity of theirs he could find. (The Ai made it clear he was like a wolf in sheep’s clothing 😒 a wolf on the hunt. and by “made it clear” I mean it literally could not stop mentioning it lmAOHDJAHAHA—) 

This is where my au comes in. 

So what does Y/n do? They start being reckless. Looking for any way to escape. There weren’t many times the brothers left on missions, so when they finally did, they had a plan to investigate around. They walked up to Donnie’s lab, and started poking around at things. They figured the purple-clad turtle would have something they could use. Something dangerous, perhaps? 

Unfortunately, (or fortunately..?) they found one of his prototypes. 

This prototype was meant to bend reality, it was an experimental design since it was his first attempt at mixing tech with mystic. but since they poked around at it’s draft, it couldn’t help but act unexpectedly. 

And sent them into another dimension entirely. 

The canon dimension. 

With no Yanderes, no captivity, and none of that fear they were so used to. 

They were .. free..? 

They looked around the streets cautiously, looking for any signs that it was a hallucination or illusion. Were they really back in the streets of NYC? After having been in that godforsaken lair for years? How many years they had no idea, their guess was 2, but they couldn’t be sure.

They sat in waiting, cautious. They couldn’t go to the police, but they knew they had to stay out of sight. The prototype of Donnie’s creation had come with them, flashing every few seconds.  They didn’t know how to turn it off, only how to hide. And they did it pretty well, holding a home base for a few days. 

Everything tipped them off, but they were beginning to calm down, that was before they realized Donnie’s invention was probably still on. After finally finding the switch, they flipped it, the light finally powering down. They sighed, eyebrows furrowing in relief— but it wasn’t over yet. 

Hearing a sound, they flipped around in surprise, running to hide before lifting their arms up, a feeble attempt to guard from whatever was walking out of the alleyway.

From the shadows, the only slightly familiar face of Foot Lieutenant, his mouth curved into a dark smile. Y/n had only seen him once, when they had attacked the turtles, but they seemed— different somehow..  “I do believe that was a tech signal from a certain purple, mutated turtle..” he turned to Brute with a sinister chuckle, gazing down at a jagged piece of equipment. “We’ve got them now..” 

Y/n could hardly breathe, but they kept a hand over their mouth, determined to be as quiet as possible. From their many failed escape attempts, they knew Donnie had a tracer on his tech. Anyone who used it without authorization would have his ‘tag’ on them for quite a while. It was easily traceable. So if these people could trace that signal..

“Wait, I’m picking up something else!” Lieutenant looked back at the equipment, “it’s.. some sort of residue..” he hummed, then turned in Y/n’s direction. 

They felt their heart stop, eyes wide as they went to check around the corner. Was there a way out of this? Were they gonna leave one captor only to walk into the hands of another? 

Just as they began to spiral, a bright light illuminated from below them, encasing their cheeks gently in its blue hue. They didn’t have any time to react, the ground opening from below them as they fell into the abyss of neon. 

They felt the world spin around them as arms circled their back and legs, bridal style, as if their ‘savior’ had twirled flamboyantly once he caught them. 

Their eyes opened gently, before a gasp left their throat. The blood drained from their face, looking upon none other than Leo.

Normally they knew at least a few things to expect from him when they tried to escape, but they had never made it away for more than an hour before… 

They had no idea what he was gonna do. 

To their surprise, he was chuckling, not like he usually did— not with that — edge of maliciousness that reminded you why you couldn’t trust him. It was genuine, and weirder yet, he smiled at them. 

“Hey, need a hand?” He cheesed, quirking a brow. 

Y/n felt their bones nearly crack just at the sound of his voice, and found themself kicking at his plastron scrambling to put distance between them. Whatever manipulation tactic he was trying this time, it wouldn’t work on them. 

They gave him a terrified look, their eyes narrowing slightly as they braced for whatever he had planned. “Get away from me!” They yelled, baring their teeth. They had no way to fight back, and yet couldn’t stop the angry tears that piled in their eyes. 

“Woah— woah..” Leo seemed to shrink, making himself smaller as he showed his empty hands, keeping them where you could see them. “I know I look a little different but I assure you I have no intention to harm you..!” He gave a small laugh, as if he’d never seen this visceral of a reaction before. 

“That’s what you said last time!!” Y/n practically shrieked, hands up in defense to cover their face, that cold blooded liar would have to kill them before they allowed him to take them back to the lair. 

“Last time..?” Leo’s hands sunk a little, brows furrowing in curiosity. He’d never met this person before… 

Right..? 

—

THATS IT THERE YOU GOT WHAT YOU WANTED 😔😔😔😔😔😔 

Bonus: 

the art I made on a whim that inspired this

anyways.. Tell me if you want more of this silly lil au or something 😒😒

[jimlingss]

(sorry my tumblr app glitched so im not sure if this was sent twice) taking a chance for the requests! how about a seokjin or namjoon arranged marriage au with this: “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 🎄 happy holidays!!

↳ Playground Promises

1.9k || 100% Light Fluff || Kim Seokjin

The bell rings.

Moments later, children are sprinting from the doors and flooding the playground. You watch in fondness as some climb the monkey bars while others sit and dig into the sandbox. All of them were forging their first friendships they’ll remember forever and you were their witness.

This is one of your favourite times of day. You enjoy seeing the kids have their fun, listening to their laughter and giggles, watching their games of tag to play pretend. But today, your enjoyment is interrupted by a certain male teacher that comes to stand behind you.

Tall. Dark. And handsome. His broad shoulders carry the weight of the third-grade class and practically the entire elementary school. But you’d never admit that out loud.

“It’s a bit chilly out today. You should’ve brought your coat with you.”

You hum.

Every staff member, married and single, swoons over Kim Seokjin. It’s hard not to. But if others knew what your relationship was with him, you’re sure you’d never hear the end of it. The kids would make a big fuss and so would all the staff and faculty, and you’d rather avoid that.

“I didn’t know you were on playground duty today.”

“I switched with Sana,” he says and leans over to smile. “Thought you could use some company.”

You scoff. “She’s perfectly fine company.”

The corner of his plump lip pulls. “If you want to talk about the mathletes program. And I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

Before you can respond, a boy approaches the two of you with pink cheeks and wind-swept hair. “Mr. Kim, can I go to the bathroom?” the third-grader asks in the midst of catching his breath and the older man nods.

“Go ahead. But don’t run in the hallway, Lucas.” 

Said boy grins and dashes off.

Seokjin turns to you and lowers his voice. “My mom’s been asking about the kids.”

Your brows furrow. “Why? They’re a good bunch.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t mean your class’ kids, I mean our kids.”

You blink owlishly. “There are no our kids.”

“That’s the problem.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Wasn’t getting married enough for them?”

Seokjin shrugs with a faint, mischievous smile. “They want to go out for brunch with your parents this Sunday. Are you free?”

“When am I not free?” you retort lightly, but slip your phone out of your pocket to check your calendar anyhow. Seokjin glances over to your screen and once you finish, you slip it back into your pocket. “I have some marking to do, but I’ll probably finish by then.”

“Okay.” The pair of you turn back to continue monitoring the children playing and you’re glad to revel in the silence that’s been created between you. But after a beat, Kim Seokjin pipes up again. You don’t know why you’re surprised. He’s quite the talkative guy. “Hey, Y/N.”

You look over and he meets your eye.

He asks, “Am I your lock screen?”

Your face heats. If you were once cold, now you were warm from head to toe. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. It was just a picture from the other day and you wanted to change things up on your phone. You had nothing else to use. It was convenient. That’s it.

Your entire relationship with him is built on convenience. At least...on his side it is.

Still, Seokjin grins and fortunately, he doesn’t tease.

You rush to change the subject. “A-Anyway, yeah, Sunday works for me. But we should probably talk about this after work.”

“Why? No one’s around.” His smile is spread from ear to ear and he leans in, whispering, “Are you that scared of people finding out we’re married?”

Immediately, you whip your head in all directions. Luckily, there’s no kid or nosy faculty member. You turn back to him, glaring. “I already said, I like to keep my private life under wraps.”

“I remember. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were embarrassed of me.”

You scoff and a murmur unintentionally spills out of you, “That’s impossible.”

You don’t notice Seokjin’s smile.

It’s been three months since you got married. It was a summer wedding. More importantly, it was an arranged marriage. And not because you were both wealthy and needed to be wedded to get the inheritance under some arbitrary contract rule or because it was your grandmother’s dying wish. No. You live a much more mundane, normal life than the dramas, movies and books.

It was your mom who threw a fuss. She was scared you’d be alone and unmarried, an old maid like your aunt — you didn’t say it, she just heavily implied it. But following her practically senile meltdown, you agreed. Partly to appease her worries and partly just out of curiosity.

You always wanted to get married. And deep down, you always wanted your own kids. But at the rate you were going, you had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to meet someone on your own.

What you didn’t expect on that blind date was for the other person to be Kim Seokjin, third grade teacher. Down the hall from you at the school. Someone across the room every lunchtime. Your dads were apparently long time colleagues, but Jin was still as equally shocked as you were during that first meeting. Yet, he easily agreed to getting married when you brought it up. Even when it was only after two months of occasionally seeing one another outside of your workplaces.

You still don’t know why he said yes.

“Ms. L/N!”

You’re torn out of your trance by a little girl at your knees. 

She pouts. “Jennie won’t let me play on the slide!”

“Did you ask her to share?”

“Yes!”

Before any more can be said, she drags you over and Seokjin trails after you. There’s another girl with brown braided hair climbing on the slide, and she swivels her head over as the two of you approach, eyes the size of saucers. 

“Are you taking turns, Jennie?” you ask her, and she vigorously nods.

“I am!”

“Well, you’ve been on it for a while. How about Lisa takes a turn next.”

“Okay,” she draws out and gets off of the slide before turning to her friend. “Here you go.”

It’s always little problems you have to solve — from sharing to knee scrapes and monkey bar accidents. Sometimes it’s difficult for the children to compromise, difficult for them to apologize and difficult for you to find a good solution. But you undoubtedly wish your own issues were this simple.

While you’re stuck in your thoughts, you miss Jin watching you fondly. 

“You’re good with kids,” he says as you move out of the way of running children and walk back to the perimeter.

“I wouldn’t be doing this job if I wasn’t. But I deal with older kids much better.” There’s a reason you teach fifth graders and not any lower than that. Seokjin knows it too.

“Remember when we had to supervise that kindergarten class together?”

You shudder. “It was a nightmare.”

“You weren’t that bad,” he tries to say but then laughs. You feign a glare, and he adds on, “Okay. I’m sorry, but I still mean it. It’s not as terrible as you thought. You’d make a good mom.” 

At that, your glare vanishes in favour of furrowing brows. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t help it when curiosity pries — so you break your own rule against discussing private matters at work. 

“Do you want my kids?”

Seokjin is wide-eyed and he turns to you. “Why not? We’re married.”

“Yeah….but…”

“But? Do you not want kids?” 

“No! I definitely want them,” you declare, almost a bit too boldly. He nods and you explain, “It’s just...I don’t know if you’re serious.”

Seokjin blinks. “I’m being perfectly serious.”

“I mean I don’t know if we’re serious.” You add, “Enough to have kids.”

“What’s more serious than being married?” Jin has a genuinely inquisitive and amused expression, head quirked to the side. 

You inhale a sharp breath and his gaze coaxes you to go on, so you do. “It’s just that you agreed so quickly to be married to me. It doesn’t….feel real. I don’t know if you wanted to marry me, if you did it on a whim, if this is some kind of joke—”

He frowns. “This isn’t a joke, Y/N. I wanted to marry you.”

Your mouth hangs open. Your eyes are rounded.

“Wh—”

“Mrs. L/N!” You’re interrupted by your fifth-grader, Park Jimin. He sprints to you, huffing and puffing, before leaning his hands onto his knees to catch his breath. “Have you seen Taehyung?! We’re playing tag!”

“No, I haven’t.”

Jin suddenly points to the left. “He went that way.”

Jimin books it.

Silence fills the spaces between you and Seokjin again, but it isn’t like normal. It’s filled with unanswered questions and the suspenseful cliffhanger of an unfinished conversation. The laughter of kids on the playground and field resound around you, but for the first time, you don’t listen to it. 

It fades into the background as you turn to Seokjin, wanting to know more. “What did you just say?”

The man smiles softly. “You have to know.”

“I don’t,” you assert. “So tell me.”

“I’ve always liked you.”

You blink and he continues, “Since you substituted for the art teacher and I saw you squirt red paint all over yourself. It’s something I couldn’t forget. Plus, the way you draw those stick people.” Seokjin laughs heartily and you’re trapped in your spot, unsure of how to react or what to say. He reads your expression and softens. “Did you really think I would rush into a marriage if I didn’t have feelings for you?”

“I…” Your mouth is agape. “I don’t know. Why did we never talk about this?”

Seokjin shrugs. “You never asked and I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way. I knew you married me for convenience.”

“That’s not true,” you retort within a beat. This whole time, you thought he married you for convenience sake. But it wasn’t entirely like that for you.

Seokjin’s eyes are big and you swallow down your embarrassment. “Isn’t it obvious every single breathing person loves you? It’s hard not to.”

Slowly but surely, a grin spreads into Seokjin’s puffy cheeks and he’s smiling from ear to ear again. “Well, you’re very good at hiding it then.”

Suddenly, the bell rings.

All the children reluctantly climb off the equipment, some dusting their hands while others grabbing their friends, and they rush into their lineups. There’s a few stranglers lugging their legs while groaning. But busy in their small playground worlds, no one turns around to notice you leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to Seokjin’s mouth. It’s shy and brief, like the first peck exchanged between two for the first time. And you pull away just as fast, lips left tingling.

“We can continue this later, Mr. Kim.”

You stride off while Seokjin’s left smiling. After a breathless moment, he chases after you like children who have just made promises of their first love on the playground.

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Okay, this one’s been done already by other blogs and I understand that not every writer wants to do the same prompt as another so if you’re not comfortable with this then absolutely stay in your comfy zone. I just think it’s fun to see different interpretations

But basically, Civilian is unknowingly dating Villain (as in, Civilian doesn’t know that villain is a criminal), and Villain is introduced to Civilian’s brother, Hero. Hero is terrified that Villain is going to hurt Civilian the entire time, but Villain just keeps on showing lots of sweet affection to Civilian (Hero and Villain recognize each other but Civilian is clueless of both their “jobs”). It’s up to you whether or not Villain actually loves Civilian or is just taunting/threatening Hero :)

Wow that was long my bad

Sorry this took me like twelve years to get to... @glowing-alpaca it won’t let me tag you... idk why🤷🏽‍♀️

Ok yes I’ve seen a few of these, so I took the general principle and made it Civilian’s POV eehehehe

hope you enjoy:)

*special thanks to @im-a-wonderling and @watercolorfreckles for the beta reads and all your amazing help on this one!!*

———————————————

Civilian shifted from foot to foot, rubbing her left wrist as she tried to focus on the conversation swirling around her. Her limbs felt lead-heavy and numb, deadweights that she wasn’t sure what to do with.

She clasped her hands together in front of her, then let them hang by her sides. Then clasped them in front of her again.

Her breathing felt loud in her ears, and a few of the patrons glanced in her direction. Could they hear her breathing?

Her eyes darted to the entrance for the hundredth time. Her brother was late. Hero had promised to be here early—he knew how she felt about crowds. And since he was the one who insisted her first art show be public, he’d reassured her he’d stay by her side the whole time.

The show had started over an hour ago.

“Well, Civilian?”

Her eyes snapped away from the door and back to the circle of patrons around her. Her stomach sloshed cold. They were all looking at her, their stares burning holes.

“Sorry? What was that?” Her stomach continued to twist and writhe. Now they all knew she’d been distracted.

Did they think she was ignoring them? Had she been rude?

She’d only glanced at the door for a moment…

An older man shook his head as his companion repeated her question about her choice to use different mediums to portray the same image.

She answered the best she could, gesturing to the wall beside her, which was filled with a dozen paintings and drawings of the cityscape—some created with ink, other with oil, acrylic, watercolor, or charcoal—she’d used them all.

She rubbed her wrist again as she tried to explain how she’d used the different mediums.

A few in the circle nodded their heads, but her heart was pounding and doubt nagged at her as she spoke. Was she talking too much? Not enough? Was what she was saying stupid?

She stumbled over her words, unease crawling beneath her skin.

She looked down, unable to complete her thought.

“I think it’s a marvelous technique.”

Hero looked up sharply as the deep voice continued, covering the awkward pause she’d created.

“...to get to look at a wall full of paintings, all capturing the same image but each conveying a different mood or emotion.”

Her rescuer was sharply dressed: his dark hair carefully styled, his suit perfectly tailored, and his gold watch designer. Combined with his confident posture, his appearance practically screamed “lawyer,” same as her brother. But while Hero was a public defense attorney, crusading against a flawed system, the man in front of her was probably what Hero would call a ‘leech,’ a rich defense lawyer catering to the criminal elite.

And while Civilian sympathized with Hero’s cause, she also had enough experience as a starving artist to appreciate the luxury of not having to worry about how much money she had to spend at the grocery store.

Plus, he’d been so kind to save her; how bad could he be?

Her rescuer was still speaking, his smooth words and confident tone confirming his profession.

“... the kind of art that needs to be seen and studied to be appreciated.”

At his hint, the crowd began to drift towards the gallery walls.

Her rescuer met her gaze through the crowd, and she offered him a small smile of gratitude as the people around her shifted away.

She turned towards the wall of cityscape paintings, breathing a sigh of relief before stopping to analyze one of the city in the rain. She eyed the brushstrokes, mentally smoothing a line here, adding a shadow there. She shook her head and turned away. Now was not the time.

But her rather abrupt turn sent her careening into a wall-like something that wasn’t a wall, but a certain tall lawyer in a thousand-dollar Armani suit. She jerked back, horrified at her lack of grace, but tripped on her blasted heels. Hands at her waist stopped her fall, long fingers tightening around her as she regained her balance. When she was finally steady, his hands slid away.

“Thanks.” Civilian forced herself to look up into the face of the man who had now rescued her twice, rather than looking around like she wanted to to check who else had noticed her embarrassing almost-fall.

He was smiling warmly, and for the first time all night, her heart wasn’t pounding at the thought of speaking with a stranger.

“I’m sorry for running into you.” She felt breathless, but it must have been from her almost-fall.

He waved her off. “I shouldn’t have been standing so close. I just wanted to compliment the way you’ve captured my favorite view of the city.” He gestured to the painting she’d just been critiquing.

“I painted it at the top of the—“

“Capitol building, yes I go there often.”

“Because you work there often?” Civilian flushed as she spoke across him, but her heart steadied as he didn’t seem to mind. His smile widened, and he leaned closer.

“What gave me away?” His voice was deep, and he looked at her as though they were sharing a secret.

Her cheeks grew warmer, and she looked away, heart racing for an entirely different reason.

“My brother is a lawyer, so I usually can just tell. He was supposed to be here actually…” a frown came to her face as she remembered her brother’s promise.

She shook herself out of her reverie. Her rescuer was looking at her warmly.

“I’m sorry! You rescued me back there, and I don’t even know your name…” She looked at him expectantly, and he offered a bright smile that made her stomach flutter.

“I’m Villain. Pleased to meet you.” His voice was practically a purr, sending tingles across her skin as he took her hand, gently raising it to his lips. She looked down as her cheeks heated at the old fashioned gesture.

“I’m Civilian,” she said as he released her hand, returning his bright smile with a shy one of her own. “Although you probably already knew that since my name is on the program...”

He nodded. “I have to say, I’m quite impressed by your—”

“Civilian!”

A blur in a tan suit darted around Villain and grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

“Hero, what?—” Her brother was a mess. His suit was wrinkled, tie coming undone, hair mussed.

He continued to pull her back, eyes on Villain. “Civilian I need to talk to you—it’s urgent!”

She glanced back at Villain as Hero tugged her away.

“Sorry!” She mouthed.

He just shook his head, an amused smile on his face, before mouthing something that looked suspiciously like, “I’ll see you later.”

Her heart warmed, and she was still grinning when Hero pulled her around the corner and flipped her around to face him.

“What are you—”

“Do you have any idea who that is?” Hero’s fingers gripped her shoulders. “What he is?”

“He said his name was Villain? And so what that he’s a lawyer, Hero. I don’t get why you are freaking out!”

Hero’s hands shook her shoulders. “He’s not just a lawyer, he—”

Civilian wrenched free and shoved Hero’s chest. “He what? Actually helped me? When YOU failed to show up like you promised.” Her last words slid into a growl.

Hero had the decency to look ashamed for a brief moment before his face hardened. He lifted a hand, gesturing with one arm back towards where they’d left Villain. “His people are the reason that I’m late!”

Anger sparked in her chest, and she rolled her eyes. “Sure,” she scoffed, “blame some random lawyer for your broken promise. That’s a pitiful excuse, Hero, even for you.”

She shoved past him, heading back into the gallery.

“Wait, Sis!” He grabbed her arm. She shook him off and stalked away.

But when she returned to the main room, Villain was gone.

[sup-hoes-its-me]

I have a Shikamaru request! It’s a bit long winded so dust with me 😊. Shikamaru is assigned to protect reader who is the last of her clan that a lot is not known about. (So he also has the secret mission of finding our more about the clan and their abilities). They end up falling for each-other (of course). And after reader finds out she is pregnant she learns that Shikamaru was meant to learn about her. I’m seeing some angsty fluffy goodness! And hopefully a happy ending. 🥰

Healing You (Shikamaru x Reader)

A/N: Thank you for your request! These long detailed ones are perfect and give me just enough information to give you the perfect story. I skipped the pregnancy part because im not totally comfortable with that...hopefully you still enjoy.

word count: 5500

Shikamaru had been anticipating this mission for a while. The Hokage told him it was of utmost importance to be ready at any time for this clan princess to show up. He was expected to drop all other missions or plans to escort this woman, whoever she was across the country to her homeland deep within Frost country. He wasn’t expecting much, actually he was expecting probably the worst client ever.

For someone to request escort at the drop of a hat like that, someone with enough money to do so as well... Shikamaru could only assume they were an asshole of the highest caliber. Probably some old woman or a spoiled little child, someone he definitely would not get along with for a month long mission just the two of them. He could remember the urgency in Kakashi’s tone when he assigned the mission, the amount of trust behind his words.

Shikamaru walked into the office casually, hands shoved deep in his pants pockets. Kakashi sat there alone at his desk, looking through paperwork and sifting through piles of white sheets, each with different names and faces. He must have thought long and hard about who he was to pick for this mission, the boy concluded.

This was going to be tiresome, he deduced quickly. Another tedious mission.

“Shikamaru, I have an important mission for you,” the man said clearly. “You can look through these files, if you want, but we don’t have any clear information on this one, I’m afraid.” He tossed over a folder full of records. Death receipts, birth certificates, first hand accounts of battles witnessed. He didn’t know what to make of what he was looking at other than a common last name running across the pages.

Hirawa.

“What is this about?” he questioned.

“In about a month's time, possibly longer, possibly shorter, I don’t have an exact date, you will escort Princess Y/N Hirawa, of the hidden Hirawa clan to the Land of Frost.”

“Who’s on my team?”

He shook his head at that question. “No one. This is a solo mission, and I’m entrusting you alone with this. It’s important you keep your mouth shut about all of this until we know it’s safe, for you and the princess.” Safe? Just what kind of mission was this anyway? Obviously it had something to do with this clan, not that he’d ever heard of them. “She has a bounty on her head, quite large at that. But we believe she can become the key to mastering some ninjutsu, particularly medical jutsu.”

“Well, what’s her clan’s kekkei genkai?”

“That’s what we don’t know, and for you to find out. All we know is that there's some dangerous people out there who want this power, and we need to protect her at all costs, you understand,” he stressed, and Shikamaru nodded. This wasn’t that big of a deal, he guessed. Protecting one girl from some rookie bounty hunters, not to mention he was being sent out alone. This was going to be a walk in the park.

The worst part of it all would be putting up with some troublesome girl for an entire month. Making conversation and having to pretend she wasn’t getting on his last nerve. That would tire him the most.

“Rumor has it, she was never able to awaken her ability, so I’m hoping you can help coax it out of her and see what we’re dealing with.”

“Of course. I’ll figure it out.”

“Good. I’m counting on you. You should take the files to look over in your free time, you’ll have lots of it before this mission. I have copies here for myself,” he motioned to another folder on her desk filled to the brim with papers just like the one he was holding. It was strange to have so much information at their fingertips, but not enough to put a description to their kekkei genkai. They must be secretive, similar to how the Uchiha hides their secrets on the stone tablet, or something.

He left the Sixth Hokage’s office and walked away to his home, where he could more closely go over the information in this folder, try to deduce something from all this random information. He would get to the bottom of this, he was a genius after all. Whether he had the help of this woman or not, he would figure it out for the Hokage.

And so, here he stood outside of Kakashi’s office with all his supplies packed in his bag, dressed for a long mission away from home. The princess had arrived. He was to meet her and then immediately they were supposed to leave off to her homeland.

The Anbu officer to his left opened the door, and motioned for him to walk in. So uptight for just a little meeting, was all this security really necessary, he wondered to himself. As he looked into the room, he spotted Kakashi standing along the window behind his desk with a smaller woman at his side, wrapped up in thick robes made of wool, embroidered with thick silver and white yarn.

Admittedly, her clothes looked incredibly expensive. He questioned how she wasn’t sweating bullets with the typical warm weather outside here in Konoha. He was expecting her to turn around, to be this hideous creature.

“Ah, Y/N, it seems your escort has arrived,” Kakashi hummed, placing a soft hand on the woman’s back as she turned around. When he finally got a good look at her face, he was taken aback, nearly enough to throw him off balance. She was decidedly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life. Wrapped up in those blankets was a young woman, who couldn't be much older than he was, with piercing eyes that immediately cut through his.

Her hair fell just perfectly around her face to frame her features, the soft color suiting her eyes and skin perfectly. Her eyelashes flickered over her eyes a few times as she gazed over at him, and he felt swoon. She had the softest skin he’d ever seen combined with those mesmerizing eyes and the shape of her face which looked like it belonged cradled in his hands.

He felt this inert urge to run in the opposite direction from her, out the room and down the hall, back to home where he could catch his breath. He already knew his cheeks were turning bright red under her stare, and he could tell Kakashi was judging him with those dark eyes of his.

“It’s nice to meet you, Shikamaru Nara,” she hummed, and he felt faint. Even her voice was precious, almost like she was singing. He choked down his breaths, trying to keep his cool the best he could. It was uncharacteristic of him to act this way with a client. He was just her escort, not some pervert. They were going to live together for basically a month, he needed to get a grip on his emotions. “Your Hokage was telling me great things about you.”

“Oh, uh,” he paused, frozen without words to leave his lips, just an empty mind full of her image. He shook his head a bit, eyes now glaring down at the floorboards beneath him. “You too, Princess.”

“Please, just call me Y/N. Princess is just too formal for me,” she told him, waving off the title almost as quickly as it left his mouth. “Kakashi, it was nice getting to know you this morning, I hope to see you and your wonderful village again soon.”

“You’re welcome back whenever you like.”

She rounded the table and approached Shikamaru carefully, eyeing him down as she did so. She took in his appearance and his stance, the emotions she could see radiating off his person from his body language. From the looks of it, he simply appeared flustered and confused. Not exactly the most ideal for the situation at hand, but they would manage. Men usually had a similar reaction when they saw her for the first time, either they were in awe or they were trying to kidnap her.

He nodded in her direction and then to the Hokage before turning around and starting out the door, the girl following closely behind him. He could hear the swishing of her thick robes around her ankles, just barely skimming the floor. He still didn’t know her personality at all, but he wouldn’t mind looking at her once in a while on this trip.

“So, why are you heading to the Land of Frost?” he asked, and she sighed.

“One of the village elders is dying. They believe my kekkei genkai is the only way to reverse the incoming death, and its consequence on my people,” she explained.

“Why doesn’t another one of your clan members do it? Surely the rest of your family lives-”

“There is no one else. I am the last living Hirawa,” she told him simply, and he could sense a bit of ice dripping off her tongue at those words. How could she not be upset recalling the annihilation of her entire clan. “The problem is that I haven’t been able to awaken my kekkei genkai. I’m not sure what they want with a useless Hirawa like me.”

“Listen, I’m sorry about your clan, but calling yourself useless really isn’t-”

“How would you feel, Shikamaru, if you were the only person in the world with the ability to save a human being from their certain death and you couldn’t even activate that gift? You have to understand how that feels for me,” she told him solemnly, her head hung low as she walked toward the gates of the village right beside the boy. People looked at her as she moved through the village, they stared in awe at her clothes and her face and the unique glimmer in her eyes. And she cowered inward, tucking herself into her robes and the fur of her hood even further, away from the prying eyes of this village.

He stayed silent, not really knowing how to respond to what she’d said to him. The sadness and the anger in her tone, deep within her words, was immeasurable. She was in pain, a conflict with herself. He wasn’t going to get into that just yet. They’d only met a few minutes ago.

They left the village together and started on their journey. It was going to be a long month, that’s for sure.

________

It had been a week of walking through the forest already, days of sleeping on the ground beneath the stars, eating rations out of his bag over the fireplace. Originally, he thought this mission would be easy, that she seemed like a normal-ish girl who wouldn’t give him any trouble, but he was wrong.

She was too quiet. It was strange, walking with someone for hours without a single word shared between them. He tried to start up a conversation, and she would reply with one word answers, sometimes if he was lucky, two or three words. She rarely looked at him, choosing to either stare at the ground where she took each step, or up at the stars and the vastness of it all. She was lost in her own mind.

Every night, as they were falling asleep, he could hear her looking over at him, scanning his form for a sign that he was still awake. He would remain still, facing the opposite way on his side, head propped up on his bag. Then, when she thought she was safe, he would hear the sobs run through her weak form. She would shake and quiver, curling in on herself and crying out into the forest for only Shikamaru and the moon to hear.

He felt terrible for her, needless to say. The guilt he felt just from hearing her cries, and knowing her internal struggle was enough to make this trip difficult. His heart hurt for her, as strange as that was to say. Normally, it was easy to remain objective, but with Y/N, it was different. He felt attached. He felt like her problems were also his. It was maddening.

She laid on the ground beside him, the majority of her soup still in her bowl and her water bottle resting at her side. She stared up into the clouds, occasionally, her eyes would slide over to see what he was up to and then she would look back at the sky. “You need to eat. We have a lot of walking until we reach the next town, probably a week’s worth. I can’t carry you if you get too tired,” he told her, pushing her bowl closer to her side.

“You know, Shikamaru, sometimes I wonder why people like you Leaf nin even protect someone like me. What’s the point? I’m useless to you and the enemy,” she muttered hopelessly. He still pushed the soup closer until she sat up and took the bowl into her hands, taking a small sip from the spoon. “I just don’t get it. How can you call me princess when I’m just as normal as the next woman on the street?”

“Listen, I don’t know what anyone else has told you, but that’s a load of bullshit.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, just because you can’t access your abilities right now doesn’t make you useless. You’re still a person just like everyone else,” he explained, stabbing his spoon into his soup as he found himself getting a little worked up. He couldn’t stand this self-pitying bullshit from her. Yeah, she was sad and all, but she didn’t have to rub it into the wound like this.

She looked surprised at his words.

What did she expect him to say? That she was right and then just abandon her out in the woods? He was beginning to think this girl was just plain stupid.

“It’s just been impossible since the incident to think of anything else. I’m sorry for upsetting you,” she sighed, taking another sip of her now cold soup.

He questioned carefully. “What incident?” He was on a mission after all. To discover her clan secrets and bring them back to the village to study. Even if she was being emotional, he could still gather some intel.

She bit her lip, and looked up to the sky again, blinking back tears from gathering in the corners of her eyes. She took a few deep breaths before explaining herself. “The day my clan was massacred. The day that those people slaughtered my sensei in front of the entire village and then killed my parents.”

He paused, lifting his eyes to look at her. She was crying, as he expected, silent tears dripping from her eyes into her lap. But she was holding strong otherwise, not a falter in her voice or a catch in her breath. She wasn’t even shaking. She was really serious about keeping these emotions private, in the middle of the night where he couldn’t hear or see.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he assured, but she shook her head.

“I’m fine. I should talk about it anyway. I haven’t had a person to talk to in years, you know.” Sitting on her face was the saddest of all smiles, a weak attempt at remaining strong. She wiped at her eyes with her wrist and continued. “I’m not even sure why they wanted us all dead, but it had something to do with the war and my clan’s actions. They were barbaric. They slit the throat of my sensei in town square and we watched her blood drip across town while they carried her head.”

“Oh, damn.”

“I know,” she agreed, “As sick as it is to say, I’m glad they only stabbed my parents with a sword. We used to be royalty, it took them killing an entire army of soldiers to get to the throne room to kill them. I was only a child hiding in the curtains, I had to watch without making a sound. I couldn’t cry, I couldn’t even breathe, or they would have killed me too.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. That’s horrific.”

“When they left, it was only me. I had to walk my way to one of the outer villages for help. I was a mess, covered in my parents blood. They’d stolen everything. All the secrets of the clan. I never got the chance to read the sacred texts. I only know from my Sensei the very basics of what we can do.”

He absorbed what she had said, taking in each word. Admittedly, she lived a terrible, horrible life, one to rival Sasuke at that. He asked, “You haven’t been able to retrieve any of the texts, have you?”

“No, unfortunately. That’s why it’s taken me this long to figure out how to unlock my ability. I literally do not know how,” she confessed, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. “It feels strange, knowing I have this ultimate healing ability and I can’t even use it to save anyone.”

“Ultimate healing ability?”

“Well, yeah. That’s our kekkei genkai. We can heal basically anything besides death. Blindness, deafness, rotting limbs, in some cases, paralysis. I’m not sure how it works, but that’s what it does. That’s why they want me to come home so desperately. I’m the only one left who can heal her.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he stated bluntly, and she tilted her head to the side in confusion.

“What?”

He reiterated, “You’ll figure out how to use your kekkei genkai. I believe in you. You’re beautiful, smart, and modest, not a fool.”

She found her cheeks begin to heat up at his words, and she leaned back, her eyes catching onto his. “Thank you, Shikamaru. It’s not everyday I get earnest compliments like that.” It was true. Normally, she did get compliments, but not the nice kind. She would often get harrassed on the street by men without brains, or recieve backhanded comments from people of her own village who hated her for what she could not be.

He shook his head, “Well, you should. You’re a strong woman, you just need more faith in yourself. You have almost no self-confidence whatsoever.” He was right about that too. Sad, wasn’t it? “You’re obviously a good person, so be proud of yourself. Not a lot of people could have gone through what you did and still be on the good side to this day.”

“I-” Y/N froze, her eyes growing wide. “Did you hear that?” she asked, her eyes flickering from Shikamaru into the woods. There were voices, soft and quiet voices, but they were still there, hush in the background. He stood up on his feet, and motioned for her to stay down close to the ground.

“Come out, whoever you are.”

And, indeed, a group of men emerged from the forest, at least ten of them. They sauntered up to the pair and the leader smirked. “We’re not here to hurt you, Leaf shinobi. Just hand over the princess and no harm will come to you,” he said, his voice musty and disgusting, like he’d been smoking cigarettes everyday for the past ten years. They knew, clearly, that a leaf shinobi wasn’t just about to abandon their charge and go running for the hills. His request was a joke.

Y/N wasn’t a fighter. She couldn’t help even if she wanted to. She was solely a healer, and even then, her skills were shaky at best. She could only do the most menial and mediocre of work on her patients. Shikamaru was against these men completely alone.

She felt fear creeping up her spine and sending shivers through her body. She barely knew the boy, had only known him for a week or so, but damn, did she like him. He was kind to her, one of the kindest people she’d met in a long time. She wanted him to be safe, to save her and come out on top like the shinobi of the Leaf are supposed to.

He turned around and waved for her to run. “Princess, Imma need you to run. I’ll come find you when it’s safe. Just go.”

She was hesitant to take off, but one stern look from him shot down any thought of staying. The woman gathered up her robes and ran in the opposite direction of the crew and her protector. Immediately after she left, she heard screaming from behind, the shouts of men in pain and men filled with anger. So much yelling. She held her breath, and kept running, running until she could only hear the faint yells of the men. She couldn’t hear Shikamaru. He was far too quiet to have those loud theatrics on the battlefield.

Y/N took cover in the roots of a tree, and just listened, felt what was going on around her. She studied the chakra signatures floating through the air, counting how many men still lived and how many were alive and well. Likewise, she kept close track of Shikamaru’s energy, making sure he was still going.

If he died, she didn’t know what would come of her. Would she be sold off? Murdered? She knew of the unspoken bounty on her head amongst the criminals, and that struck fear in her heart. All she could do was pray for Shikamaru’s survival.

After what seemed like hours but in reality only about 10 minutes, the screams and shouts finally came to a halt. The chakra signatures of most of the men were completely gone, meaning they had died sometime during the battle. Only some remained, and they were weakened severely, probably passed out or bleeding out.

Shikamaru’s alarmed her. It was weak, almost as weak as the rest. She crawled out from under the tree and started back in the direction of the campsite, keeping her head low nearly in a crouch to stay unseen. There was no telling what was happening over there or who was still out here.

When she got to the campsite though, her eyes widened and she nearly screamed. While the rest of the men collapsed on the ground in bloody heaps, Shikamaru lay in the middle of them, bleeding out from a ginormous wound protruding from his side. She fell onto her knees beside his barely breathing form and held her hands over the wound, trying her best to run her chakra through her, but she was weak. Only a faint light emanating from her hands, not enough to come close to saving him.

“Shikamaru? Shikamaru, can you hear me? Please, try to stay awake, okay?” the girl pleaded, resting one of her soft hands on his cheek. He sighed into her touch. It was just as he imagined. Warm and gentle, like the caress of a feather. At least, if he were to die, it would be in the arms of an angel, he decided.

“You need to head back to the Leaf. Tell Kakashi what happened,” he sputtered out, blood leaving his lips and dripping down the sides of his face. “I lived a good life.”

“No, no, no. You are not dying on me. Not happening,” she whispered. She continued to pour her chakra into his wound, not that it was doing anything serious. Tears filled her eyes and she bit her lip, trying to keep them from falling, but she couldn’t help it. All these tears plagued her life. Memories that made her cry. All the pressure. All the death. Poor Shikamaru lying here dying after saving her life. “I’m going to save you,” she muttered firmly.

Pressure built up in her chest and she pushed further and further, digging deeper into her chakra reserve. It actually hurt the amount of effort she was putting in. It was exhausting, and after about a minute, she was gasping for breath. “Stop. It’s okay, princess.”

“Dammit, Shikamaru, I told you not to call me princess, “ Y/N shouted, and in that moment, she felt something shift inside her. A well of energy she never knew she had opened up and she felt it being filled not by her own chakra but by the men around her. Her body absorbed every last bit of chakra in their bodies, filling hers completely. When Shikamaru looked up at her, he noticed a slight glow coming from her skin that wasn’t there before.

It seemed she awoke her kekkei genkai.

With all the newfound energy she had, she channelled it into saving Shikamaru. Right in front of her eyes, his wound began to close and blood sunk back into his body. He groaned at the feeling, shifting uncomfortably on the ground. Finally, she had done something great.

And as she watched the last bit of his wound shut and the blood to seep back into his body, she found herself grow lightheaded.

As she was passing out, she heard him calling her name, and the only thing she could do was smile. She did it. She saved him. Her vision went black and sleep overtook her swiftly.

________

After Y/N saved Shikamaru and awoke her kekkei genkai, the boy gathered up both of their belongings, hoisted them over his shoulder, and then carried her in his arms to the next village. She wasn’t waking up anytime soon, he found that was probably a bad side effect of using the ability. It completely drained her. He just knew he had to move before any of those guys woke back up. He was not ready to fight again.

He enjoyed feeling her in his arms, pressed tightly to his chest with her head lolling side to side. Y/N was sweet and cute, with her little, “don’t call me princess” proclamation before saving him. It seemed she was just as much a princess as everyone thought she was, and a powerful one at that. She basically brought him back from the dead, and he would be grateful for his entire life for what she’d done for him.

The two of them rested for the night in a village inn just a couple miles away before waking up the next morning and setting off with a new bounce in her step toward your homeland where she was sure she could save the village elder now. He watched as the girl walked eagerly in front of him, swinging her robes by her sides and letting her hair loose instead of a tight braid.

This side of her, it was gorgeous. She was gorgeous. Maybe, he found himself harboring just a tiny crush on the girl who saved his life, the girl who took his breath away when they first met. Maybe he liked her a lot. It was pointless to have such feelings for a girl he would probably never meet again after dropping her off in her homeland.

But he could enjoy his time now, with the girl of his dreams at his side.

He found himself wanting more time with her. Much more time. He knew they only had about a week before they arrived in the Land of Frost, and it was depressing him. He wanted her to come back to the village with him and live there, just so he could see her face everyday and hear that sing-song voice run off her tongue.

Was that so much to ask for? Well, yes, but he still wanted it…

They found themselves stopped for the night or two in a village on the coast. She was tired from all the walking and sleeping in the grass. She was willing to spend a few dollars to have a nice bed to sleep in for the night. She booked a room at one of the inns in town and collapsed into the mattress in the room, throwing her robes to the side and cuddling into the comforter. It had been so long since she was living in such comfortable conditions.

He took a seat beside her and pulled out a book, flipping to the most recent page and diving in. He was more than happy to finally rest. He was lazier than she was, after all. They had been walking for almost a month now, he was tired of it. The only thing that kept him going was seeing her smile every now and then, especially the ones directed at him, or in response to something he said.

Something about those smiles just made him feel good inside. It was sickening. These mushy, gushy feelings he was having. He was beginning to think he might be falling for the girl, like, falling in love. He was disturbed. Was he really that weak to a pretty face, soft hands, and a warm heart?

“Shikamaru?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll be home in a week, and you’ll have to go back to the Leaf Village,” she said. He nodded. At that point, they would go their separate ways and it would all be over, this friendship they had. He’d never felt so torn about a mission until now.

He replied casually, “Yeah. Time flies, huh?”

She held her breath for a moment, thinking over her next words very carefully. She’d actually been pondering when she was gonna tell him over the last few days, thinking over every way the scenario could play out. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to leave you, Shikamaru,” she confessed, finally letting go of the breath she was holding.

He raised a brow, setting down his book and turning to face her. “What do you mean?”

“Well...it’s just that your Hokage seems to really like me, and I don’t really have a home anymore with my clan gone,” she mumbled, twiddling her fingers in her lap. “I was thinking maybe after I heal the elders and the village that I could go home with you instead. Live in the leaf village.”

He just looked at her. Had all his longing been for nothing? Could she really mean it? Coming home with him? Could his future really involve seeing her every day, introducing her to his best friends, and healing his people when they were injured?

“I mean, if you don’t think it’s a good idea, though, I totally get it-”

“No! I-I love that idea, actually.”

“Really?”

“Would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

He watched as her lips curled into a bright smile and she clasped her hands together. “Shikamaru, I’m so happy. You and the other Leaf nin are the only people to show me any kindness in a long time. I get to go home to people that will care about me.”

“Yeah, we’re pretty good at that back in the Leaf. Caring, that is.”

She fell back against the bed and sighed, curling up in the sheets once again. He watched as she smiled into the covers and closed her eyes, relishing in this feeling of newfound freedom and happiness, of the hope she found in him and the village. Despite finding women troublesome most of the time, he was willing to go through trouble for her. He felt like he’d do just about anything for this girl.

So unlike him. Tch. Get a grip, Shika.

Her next words had him melting like putty in her hands though. He just couldn’t help it.

"I'm glad you were assigned this mission with me. You helped me awaken my abilities, and I think it was fate that brought us together for that to happen," she sighed. "This meeting, you and I, it was always meant to be. I'm sure of it now."

"Maybe you're right. I wouldn't know," he replied.

It was quiet for a while, just her lost in her own dreams, her own thoughts. Her eyes trailed over to him, and she just knew she was swoon. With his lazy grin and his thoughtful gaze. It was so obvious to her now.

She confessed, “I think I like you. As more than just a friend, Shikamaru. I know I probably shouldn’t be telling you this considering I still need you to escort me to the village and all, and you might not want me to go back to the Leaf with you now, but I just-”

He couldn’t wait anymore. He was going crazy. Finally, he kissed her.

She felt his hands resting on either side of her head and his lips pressed carefully to hers, testing the waters. She brought her own hands up to cup his own, bringing him closer and deeper into the kiss. She smiled and sighed, enjoying the feeling of pure bliss. It had been so long since she felt something so good. Something so sweet.

“You like me too?”

“You’re dumb as hell.”

And he kissed her again. And again. And maybe a couple more times after that.

[peachscribe]

peach’s summer book list

i had a lot of fun compiling the list of books i read during the 20-21 winter, so i decided i would do a summer one as well! i still have a lot of books i own but haven’t read, so im definitely not lacking in material

if you didn’t see my winter list, how my book list works is basically like this: i read a book that i own but have not previously read, write a short summary immediately after finishing the book, write down my thoughts on the book, and then provide a rating for the book. i also might include background info on why i read this particular book/feelings about the author, but that depends on the book. that’s how each entry works

without further ado, let’s get started!

1. Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

okay so i absolutely adore another book by andrew smith (written after grasshopper jungle) called the alex crow. it’s one of my favorite books of all time, so naturally i wanted to see if grasshopper jungle would make me feel similarly. just like the alex crow, grasshopper jungle’s plot is. so fucking weird. it stars austin szerba, a teenage polish kid who lives in ealing, iowa, and is often sexually confused regarding his girlfriend shann and his best friend robby. and in ealing, iowa, austin and robby accidentally and unknowingly unleash an unstoppable army of huge six-foot-tall praying mantis bugs that only want to do two things: fuck and eat. and i just have to say: andrew smith’s got an absolutely dynamo writing style. alex crow is similar, where it’s a book about kind of everything all at once, framed in a moment centering around teenage boys. it’s fantastic, and it’s more than a little gross, and i love it. this book made me feel so many things, and i thought austin was such an amazing narrator and main character to identify with. this book has it all: shitty teenage boy humor, fucked up science experiments, and poetic imagery that will make you want to cry. and explicit lgbt characters.

412/10 andrew smith what do you put in your water i just want to know

2. Burn by Patrick Ness

patrick ness has written a plethora of some of my favorite books (such as a monster calls, the chaos walking trilogy, and the rest of us just live here) so when i saw this one in the store i knew it would be a great one. burn is an alternate history fantasy that takes place in 1957 frome, washington, during the height of the cold war, and it begins with a girl named sarah and her father hiring a dragon to help out on their farm. but there’s not just dragons, farm living, and cold war tensions; there’s also a really shitty small town cop, a cult of dragon worshippers and their deadly teenage assassin, a pair of fbi agents, and a prophecy that sarah’s newly hired dragon claims she’s a part of. i think eoin colfer’s highfire was on my winter list, which also featured a story that included dragons and shitty cops, so when i first began burn i thought it was funny to have two books that had both things. you know, if you had a nickel etc etc. but that’s really where the similarities end because burn is entirely it’s own monster (dragon). burn is entirely invested in its world, and its fascinating. not only that, i had no clue where the book would take me next. there were so many surprises and amazing twists that honestly just blew me away. this book also includes beautifully written complicated discussions on family, race, and love - it features interracial and queer romances as the two most prominent romance plots which was such a nice surprise from a book i wasn’t expecting to have that kind of representation. this book is witty, fast-paced, and a very heartening read - i absolutely adored it.

9/10 dragons and becoming motivated by the power of love and friendship are so fucking cool

3. As Meat Loves Salt by Maria McCann

i hate this book! as meat loves salt is a historical fiction novel which takes place in seventeenth century england, which is going through a grisly civil war. the protagonist, jacob cullen, is a servant for a wealthy household and is engaged to another servant in the house. but due to certain events that are almost entirely jacob’s fault, he flees the house and is separated from his wife. from there, he joins the royal army and meets a kind soldier, ferris, and the two become fast friends. jacob and ferris’s relationship begins to bridge past friendly, and jacob struggles with his homoerotic feelings as well as the growing obsession and violence inside him. also, they try to start a colony. listen, i don’t know how to describe the book because so much happens, but it basically just follows jacob and all the terrible decisions he makes because he is, truly, a terrible person. ferris is kind and good, and jacob is scum of the earth. he sucks so bad. the entire time i was reading this book (which took absolutely so long), all i wanted was for jacob to just get his ass handed to him. i wanted to see him suffer. and it’s not like i just personally don’t like him - i believe the book purposefully depicts him as unsympathetic even though he is the narrator. i did enjoy the very in depth and accurate portrayal of what life would’ve been like in seventeenth century england, and i think it was interesting to read a character that is just the absolute worst person you’ve ever encountered and see him try and justify his actions, so if you enjoy that kind of thorough writing, then this book would be perfect for you. however, i did not see that bitch ass motherfucker jacob cullen suffer enough. i’d kill him with my bare hands.

2/10 diversity win! the worst man on earth is mlm!

4. This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab

i know ive had a friend tell me how great one of schwab’s other book series is, but truthfully i bought this book because the cover is sick as hell and it was on a table in the store that advertised for buy two get one free, i think. something like that. anyway, this savage song takes place in a future in which monsters, for whatever reason, suddenly became real and out for blood in a mysterious event nicknamed the phenomenon. august flynn is one of these monsters, but he takes no pride in that fact and only wants to feel human. kate harker is the daughter of a ruthless man and is trying her hardest to be ruthless, too, but deep down she knows it’s just an act. their city, verity, stands divided, and kate and august stand on either side - but when august is sent on a mission to befriend kate in the hopes of stopping an all out war, the lines begin to blur. this book rules. august and kate are such interesting and dynamic characters, and the narrative is familiar while still being capable of twisting the story around and taking the feet out from under you in really compelling ways. this savage song is part of the monsters of verity duology, and i can’t wait to dive into how the story continues and finishes.

11/10 sometimes you can judge a book by it’s cover

4a. Our Dark Duet by Victorian Schwab

this is the sequel and finale for this savage song and i’d figure i’d update everyone: fantastic ending, beautiful, showstopping, painful.

12/10 loved it and will definitely be keeping an eye out for schwab’s other books

5. White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi

oh boy. okay. white is for witching is about a house, and it is about the women who have lived inside of it. when her mother dies abroad, miranda silver begins to act strangely, and there’s nothing her father or her twin brother seem to be able to do about it. she develops an eating disorder and begins to hear voices in the silver family house, converted to a bed and breakfast by miranda’s dad; and she begins to lose herself in the house and the persistent presence of her family legacy. white is for witching switches perspective dizzingly and disorientingly between miranda, her twin eliot, miranda’s friend from school named ore, and the house itself. this story is a horror story as much as it as a tragedy as much as it is a romance as much as it is a bunch of other things. oyeyemi brings race, sexuality, nationality, and family into this story and forces you not to look away. this book is poetry.

(like i mentioned briefly, this book heavily deals with topics of race and closely follows miranda’s eating disorder. read responsibly, and take care of yourselves)

15/10 this book consumed me and i think i’ll have to read it another 10 more times to feel it properly

6. These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong

okay. okay. strap in for a ride. these violent delights is a romeo and juliet style story, taking place in glittering 1920’s shanghai. the city stands divided - not only between the foreign powers encroaching on chinese land, but also between the scarlet gang and the white flowers, who are at the height of a generations-long blood feud. juliette cai, heir to the scarlets, has recently returned from four years abroad and is determined to prove herself ruthless enough to lead. roma montagov, heir to the white flowers, is standing strenuously on his place as next in line due to a slip up four years prior and is desperate to keep hold of his title. and in the midst of juliette and roma’s burning history with each other threatening to combust, an unnatural monster lurks in the waters of shanghai, loosing a madness on scarlets and white flowers alike. this book has it all - scorned ex lovers, political intrigue, deadly monsters, and all set on a glamorous backdrop of the roaring twenties. i absolutely was enraptured by this book and the way it plays around the story of romeo and juliet so well that it easily became it’s own monster, but with the punches and embraces of something classically shakespearan. gong does just an absolutely breathtaking job of fitting this fantastical story amid the larger world of shanghai and the real life historical events that had shaken the city to its core. completely immersive and outstandingly heart racing.

17/10 i was chewing on my fingernails for the last thirty pages and will continue to do so until the sequel is released (our violent ends, 16 nov 21)

7. The Antiques by Kris D’Agostino

you ever heard of the american dysfunctional family story? this is most definitely that. at the same time george westfall’s cancer takes a turn for the worse, a hurricane hits the east coast, and suddenly all at once the issues of his health, the hurricane, and all three of his children’s achingly dysfunctional adult lives are crashing into each other. reunited by george’s death, the westfall siblings have to face their grief, each other, and the problems in their own lives they attempted to put on hold while planning their father’s memorial. this is a nice story about grief and loss and love and somehow finding the humor amidst it all.

(this book does include a depiction of an autistic child who does experience several pretty bad meltdowns due to ignorant people around him not understanding how to cater to his needs. im not an authority on what depictions are or are not harmful, but i do believe this depiction is ultimately loving and well-intended.)

7/10 it made me laugh and cry and was generally one of those books that somehow hit you close to home

8. Fierce Fairytales by Nikita Gill

fierce fairytales is a poetry anthology that reimagines classic fairytales from a modern, feminist viewpoint, acknowledging that the line between hero and villain, monster and damsel, are not as clear cut as the classics try to make you believe. this book also includes illustrations done by the author herself, which i think is really cool. my personal favorite story reimagining was the story of peter pan and captain hook, called ‘boy lost’ which looked at how peter and hook’s relationship began and rotted. all in all, i think this collection of stories had a lot of important things to say and said them in frank, easy to understand poetry and prose.

7/10 beautiful message and pretty prose, but at times a little cliche

and that’s all from the summer! my fall semester starts tomorrow, and overall i feel very good about all the reading i did this summer. i even read four other books not on this list for work! so i definitely feel like i made the most out of my time, and im really glad i was able to read so many stories that made me feel a variety of different things

thanks so much for reading this list, and let me know if you read or have read any of these books and tell me what you think of them!

happy reading<3

[probably-haven]

Hello!

So I’m the anon who asked for more Archon War Venti headcanons and I just loved it! I really like reading your headcanons cuz some of them are similar to mine but mostly are headcanons that I didn’t think of so it really is nice to read and see your thoughts about Venti!

I feel like as if I’m asking too much but could you keep doing these types of headcanons? Like it doesn’t have to be Archon War headcanons but like some headcanons about Venti’s relationship with the Ragnvindrs and Gunnhildrs. Because the first Gunnhildr was the first one who prayed to Barbatos and the first Ragnvindr was his friend who left but came back and I really wanna hear your thoughts on that!

And I’ve decided to get off anon cuz you just replied to my texts and I wasn’t expecting that so I’ve got a short confidence boost that I am completely taking advantage of! And thanks for the advice! or uhh comment? observation? I’m not entirely sure but thank you for that! I’ve heard that be said to me a few times and I have been trying to be more, uhh, assertive so thanks for that!

rfouierjkhfkecs i actually came across information on Gunnhildr and the "Red-haired warrior" yesterday when i was doing more research into the rebellion against Decarabian and I was like "wow this would be really fucking fun to research and theorize on, but its too specific/niche to include unprompted no matter how much i want to" but bestie you prompted, and im literally so happy right now because I didn't think I'd ever really get the chance to post about them!

also lmao yeah, i tend to try and reply to as much as I can, since it's a good feeling when someone does and all. but yeah, no problem! I’m glad you felt confident enough to reveal XD. 

This may be structured a bit more like analysis/theory/just citing canon things at first before it gets into a more headcanony format.

ehe i have so much free reign on this it's lovely

More Archon War Era Venti: one two three

spoilers for Venti's backstory and Diluc's(kinda, i think, just in case)

first things first, laying down some canon background because before yesterday i hadn't heard of either of them outside of that one cutscene.

the very reason Decarabian had his storm wall up in the first place was because at the time Andrius had declared war on him- and his tower, and the city of Mondstadt by extent, were basically constantly under attack by Andrius's blizzards, which since he was still alive back then, were a lot bigger and covered basically what seems to be the whole of Mondstadt outside the barrier.

This meant that people had two options. Live in the city under Decarabian's oppression, or live outside the barrier, and brave the blizzards of a warring god... which was not a good idea

but the Gunnhildr clan(not yet called that) tried- and they almost died because of it. In the midst of a blizzard, the clan chief's daughter, named Gunnhildr(which the clan would be named after later) sent out a prayer that was heard by a wandering wind spirit. And the faith of that prayer gave the spirit enough power to create a small shelter to protect them.

When her father past, she became the new leader and also a priestess. She would later lead the clan to fight Decarabian alongside four others. And basically the Gunnhildr Clan ended up as like sworn protectors of Mondstadt

-

as for the red-haired warrior, who is basically assumed to be the earliest known ancestor of the Ragnvindir clan(im gonna refer to as Ragnvindir for convenience sake, even though "Ragnvindir" is technically a different character from Vanessa's era)theres not much information on him, but heres what i have from the various wiki's

- he was a wanderer

- one of the first to use the sign of windblume to find other rebels(so he's intelligent)

- actively propped up the nameless bard so he could watch as the tower was destroyed

there's this little tidbit too from the Windblume Ode bow's description that im probably gonna talk about a considerable amount too: "Atop the ruins of the ancient tower, amidst the cheers, songs, and tears of those who had newly won their freedom. A red-haired warrior turned his back on the newborn god, hidden like a single raindrop in a tidal wave of humanity. He was first among those who passed the secret sign of Windblume, the one who wove threads of dawn throughout the long night. His name has since been lost to time, but his deeds are still remembered in song." followed later by "The fate of this clan will likely never change: they shall ever live in the darkness and bring forth the flame of dawn."

-

Now I'm going to start with the Ragnvindir(geez, why's it spelled like that tho)

My idea of his character is basically formed by a mix of Ragnvindir stereotypes and just generally analyzing text.

So what do we know about Ragnvindir's for sure? they are shady motherfuckers- or at least they rarely operate in the spotlight. also damn, these guys are more cursed than anemo vision wielders- like the only one who didn't canonically lose someone close to them was Crepus, but considering that Diluc doesn't exactly have a mom..... he probably did

so what do we know? - he was close with the nameless bard - he was intelligent - he likely operated primarily from the shadows "ever living in the darkness" - he was a wanderer - he abandoned Venti during the celebration - but his deeds were still remembered in song, so Venti and him were likely still close

now the question of the century: how will i choose to interpret "turned his back on the newborn god"? And honestly, I'm- not sure- at first i assumed he abandoned him completely- but Venti did still make sure to carry on his memory- which could just be Venti being Venti, but for the sake of sanity, this is how I'm interpreting it.

A lot of things happened to the Ragnvindir that day. He lost a friend, saw another become a god to replace the one they had conquered, and he saw his goal, his reason for being in Mondstadt, come to fruition. "see the world through my eyes" the bard had said, and the Ragnvindir had been a wanderer even before. Sure, the people had won freedom, and that was to be celebrated, but he's intelligent to recognize that people would likely see him as one of the key figures in leading the rebellion. And for him this was a solemn time, and ending to a chapter, and not being one to operate in the spotlight, the last thing he'd want is to be swept up in festivities and attention at a time like this.

It also likely didn't help that he's probably smart enough to understand the idea of "power corrupts," and seeing the wind sprite just readily accept the mantle of Archon was likely not the most comforting thing to happen in the given situation after all. But Decarabian was gone, and Andrius had ceased his blizzards, so without a word, he slipped into the crowd and left, a wanderer once more.

-

now back to Gunnhildr

she was the first to receive an anemo vision from Barbatos, no I do not take criticism on this "the power bestowed on her by Barbatos" like please, they basically said it.

It also mentions that she crowned Venti with laurels(symbol of vistory) after the battle- the book Biography of Gunnhildr additionally says "the Gunnhildr Clan will continue honoring the legacy of its ancestors and its duty to the Anemo Archon: to protect Mondstadt, the land and all who inhabit it, forever."

I really like this because it conveniently ties into my past headcanon about Venti granting visions to the people of Mondstadt and having them be the ones to erect wind barriers and defend the city in his absence.

So in the Archon War I like to imagine that the Gunnhildr clan had a lot of people who were actually granted visions and were basically in charge of protecting it from those who would attempt to ambush them.

Mondstadt essentially became known for this- the fact that the mortals within it were strong enough to fend off the force of a god without support from their own.

but regardless, Gunnhildr, as she had before, served as a priestess to Barbatos, the closest thing that Mondstadt had to a ruler, and yet she only took charge of prayer and protection.... i hate to just- equate them to their descendants- but to an extent- her role was kind of like a merge between Jean and Barbara- Except with a whole lot less structure.... i really dont want their characters to just be carbon copies of the descendants but- c'mon, the comparison was right there.

anyways besties- back to Venti so i can tie them in

The Archon War was one of the worst times for Venti in his entire life thus far. And the time immediately after Decarbian's fall, while Gunnhildr and the Ragnvindir were still alive, was the key period of time in which things could have gone very differently.

Venti is the god of freedom. That's a reoccurring theme and I think I've made that abundantly clear. But during this time, Venti was anything but free.

I've mentioned before how he would stay far from the city of Mondstadt so the shockwave of his death wouldn't reach him, should he fall.... well- Venti is new to a lot of things- godhood- humanity- war- freedom- and at this point he was trying hard to figure out how to be Mondstadt's god without becoming Decarabian, and while still being able to survive, and make sure they survived, and see the world for his friend, and carry on his friends legacy.

And this is a lot of stuff for what was once a carefree elemental being, and there were certain things that had to be done for this to happen. He couldn't just stay in Mondstadt, or he would grow weak and his people would be vulnerable to attack, but he couldn't abandon it, because despite being able to fend for themselves, there's always hat just in case. He couldn't stay in any one place outside of Mondstadt for very long or he'd be found and killed. He knew in order for Mondstadt to survive he would have to take an active role in the war, strengthen himself so he could defend Mondstadt, and thats exactly what he did.

He started by going after the less powerful gods, ones he had a chance at beating with the power he got from the Gunnhildr clan and the rest of Mond, and by wiping them out, he would grow stronger, so he kept it up- working his way up the metaphorical ladder.

but he couldn't let anyone near him either, because he knew just what would happen if he was attacked then. Were it not for Gunnhildr's prayer, the early years of the Archon War would have been without contest the loneliest time of his life, and there would be nothing he could do about it, bound by survival and his attachment to the legacy of his friend, constantly fearing for his life and going against his very nature as the god of freedom. Frankly thrust into that circumstance that early on, and having to face it alone, it's likely that Venti would have caved under the pressure and dropped his attachment to either his survival, or to his friends legacy... or just something entirely worse(isolation messes with brains) so I'm attributing the fact that he didn't do that to Gunnhildr's companionship, speaking to him and guiding him through it as he had guided her through the blizzard some time ago.

I also like to think that she's responsible for founding at least a number of the different celebrations that still happen in Mondstadt even now.

Ugh supportive warrior priestess- we stan

anyway meanwhile! we got the Ragnvindir

He hears about Venti taking part in the Archon war during his wanderings and returns to Mondstadt to check in, wary of what he might find.

Venti, who hadn't seen him since the rebellion, is elated to say the least and they do a bit of catching up because they need it

and then the conversation turns more serious, and the Ragnvindir brings up a third thing that Venti needs to hold onto- his humanity.

See, in the early years, just desperate to get a foothold on the world, Venti's first number of targets were just indiscriminately going after those he knew to be weaker than him, and the Ragnvindir points this out, saying that while it's not necessarily bad, if he keeps doing it, it won't be long until he causes his and, by extent, Mondstadt's legacy to be tainted by a reputation for slaughter, no better than any of the other bloodthirsty gods that frequented the war's fields. "Think of what the bard would do, we were both close enough to do that much"

And Venti becomes yet more caged, but recognizes that he's right, and this is another turning point, that in the coming years would keep Venti from losing himself.

also- Gunnhildr, Venti having told her about the Ragnvindir's concerns that he now shared, probably organized some kind of event (not unlike the right of part, but also, yes unlike it) that was deliberately intended and designs to serve as an excuse that Venti could chose to take to visit Mondstadt, something she know he desperately wanted to do, but wouldn't allow himself for fear of putting them in danger. But if she made it an official celebration, then it would give Venti the opportunity to visit his people again, under the guise of it being a responsibility, not having to deal with the moral implications of doing so at a time when he was already dealing with enough of those already.

Also on his travels, the Ragnvindir probably started and spread a number of rumors that could end up working in Venti's favor, not that anyone ever knew it was him of course.

basically Gunnhildr protected the people of Mondstadt and did all she could to keep everyone in as high spirits as possible, Venti included.

And as for the Ragnvindir, he took a more realistic approach, traveling and getting venti followers in far places, spreading false information about him, and just overall making sure that Venti didn't do things he'd regret.

And when they died, Venti would carry their legacy with him as well, not losing his humanity to the tide of war as he very nearly had(though he still often came close), and trying to spreading high spirits where ever he could without fail.

[miss-choco-chips]

Bird Watchers

It was something like an open secret in Gotham, that even though all it’s heroes were open to help no matter the situation, each one of them had a special affinity to certain matters.

For example, children from all districts knew to yell for Nightwing if they found themselves lost and scared. Small business owners often painted little Oracle symbols on their doorsteps, to warn away possible thieves with the knowledge that Gotham’s cryptic hacker had their eye on them. Working girls would send a quick prayer to the Red Hood before seeing their seediest clients; and as such, knew who to call for if things took a turn for the worst.

And Red Robin… well. His was a very specific bunch.

---.---

Warnings: depression, suicide attempts, overdose comic-typical violence (discussed, not explicit). Hurt-comfort all the way, baby. There’s also one scene, with the redhead, that I copied from the comics.

(it’s almost 2 am, I wrote half of this in one go, don’t @ me for mistakes. I’ll edit tomorrow. Maybe.)

---.---

The first time he stopped a suicide, he had just turned thirteen. The suit still felt wrong, too loose in all the places where Jason’s bigger presence would have been a better fit. Too small, too brainy, not brash enough, not good enough.

He would never think himself worthy, but he was all Batman had. There were no other candidates, not ones he could have thrown the job at without risking Bruce’s identity, so he’d have to make do.

But even so, he had been gaining a little confidence over the past few months. His training with Shiva, and Dick’s and Bruce’s focus on making him as ready for the streets as humanly possible, had ensured he never encountered a situation where he couldn’t handle himself, or get back up in time to avoid any casualties.

Except for right now.

“Hey! Don’t do it, please!”

Yeah, maybe yelling at the man precariously balanced on the edge of a how many feet tall building wasn’t his wisest moment. He’d berate himself later. Now was freak out time.

Said man stumbled for a second before regaining his footing and turning to look at Tim. He couldn’t be more than forty, with a bit of an overgrown beard and tired eyes. He had something clutched in one hand, tanned and calloused from work, the other over his chest, probably due to the scare of having a bat suddenly appearing behind him.

“R-Robin…”, he gasped, shook out of whatever reverie he was going through for a second. “W-what… I mean, why are you…?”

‘Okay, Tim, breath. Can’t call B, he’ll notice, get startled and jump. Can I catch him if he does? My grappling hook is made to withstand more than my weight, but if I can’t handle the strain of swinging us both to safety…’

He couldn't risk it.

“Good evening, Mr…?”

Surprise and good manners made the man automatically answer, “Ed. Ed Harrinson.”

Encouraged, Tim took a tiny teeny step forward. Ed’s entire body shock and he leaned backwards. Tim froze, fear keeping his breathing and heartbeat hostages for the time being, stopping the first and kick starting the second.

“Mr Harrinson, I’d like to ask you to step away from the edge? I’ll call an ambulance for you, and…”

“No!”, the man screamed, suddenly over his surprise, a look of determination trying to masquerade his obvious exhaustion. “If you call an’one, I’ll jump.”

Tim wisely kept the ‘you were gonna do it anyway’ to himself. He nodded slowly, hands emerging from the confines of his cape to show Mr Harrinson the lack of a communication device.

“I won’t, then, but may I come closer? Please?”

It was on the last word, high pitched and wavering, that the man cracked. With wary demeanor, he waved him over, pointing to a patch of rooftop a little far but close enough for Tim to feel comfortable- or as comfortable as he’d get, in these circumstances.

As he approached, he could feel the man analyzing him. The little gasp when he stood by his side didn’t go unnoticed.

“You are… smaller than I imag’ned. Too small for a bat. My boy’s taller than you” he mused, likely to himself, but Tim grasped onto that bit of information and clutched at it with both hands, desperately.

“I’m short compared to my peers, so maybe I’m the same age as your son. How old is he?”, he asked, in his most conversational tone. Fear still had a grasp over both his lungs and heart.

Something in the man’s face shifted.

“He… he just turned fifteen.” Older than Tim, then. Ed continued, “He’s… ”, in a second, the sadness was replaced by pride, “he’s grown up p’tty well, if I say so m’self. A fine young man, that kid. He’ll go places.”

For a beat, Tim tried to imagine his own dad here. As much as he’d hate to see Jack in Mr Harrinson’s place, he couldn't help but wonder if he’d be talking about him the same way Ed spoke about his son.

He… didn’t think so. If on the verge of death, thoughts about his son would probably be the farthest from his dad’s mind.

“You sound like you love him very much. He’s a lucky guy” he said sincerely, a tendril of hopefulness still twisted around his stomach. His hands weren’t shaking any longer, finding solace in the fact that the man in front of him didn’t look like he was about to jump right that second.

Mr Harrinson’s face fell.

“Got served an’ unlucky hand, with an old man like me”, his eyes went back to the abyss, to the empty, poor litten streets below them. “Go ‘way, kid. Leave m’ be. Notta business what I do. Gotta do this f’r my kid.”

Fear came back, full force.

“I- Sorry, but I can’t help but think about your son”, he blurted out, the only bit of information he had about the man was his only tendril of hope. “Someone who loves his child as much as you seem to must be a good father. A father that… would be missed dearly, if lost so young.”

Mr Harrinson looked even more devastated. Tim was doing this all wrong, wasn’t he?

“There’s no other way t’ keep’im safe!'' he yelled, and for a minute Tim thought he had decided to jump then and there. Instead, he dropped to his knees, hands to his head, paper still clutched in one fist. “They’ll get to him if I don’t! Once I’m dead, they’ll just leave’im alone!”

Tim crouched next to him, tentative.

“Who is ‘they’, sir? Maybe I could help…”

Ed was already shaking his head.

“Nay, they said not to go to the bats. Kill my boy, they will, if I do. Seen them offing others for less, so I believe them.”

“Ah, but I’m too short to be a bat, am I not?” he smiled, wobbly at best but sincere. “Besides, who’s gonna tell them you spoke to me? I”, he gestured to his mask, “know how to keep a secret.”

He considered for a beat, before tired shoulders fell, defeated. He offered the slip of paper towards him, unseeing eyes on the street below.

Robin read the note carefully, noting the sloppy penmanship and cheap paper as well as the message itself.

“Mr Harrinson…”

“I know”, he whispered, “I know working for the Black Mask wasn’t my best idea. But m’boy needed to eat, and the landlord was gettin’ impatient. And now, for whatever reason, boss wants me dead. And if I make ‘im dirty his own hands, he’ll dirty ‘em twice and send me with my son for company to the other side. Felix is too young, and he’s good. Can’t let ‘im pay f’ his old man m’stakes, ya hear me?”

Tim thought his words over carefully.

“Mr Harrinson… I don’t think this comes from Black Mask himself”, for one, Blackie wasn’t one to avoid blood on his gloves, nor to send such a shitty note. The man lived for the drama, like most A-listers did, and he’d never forgo the aesthetic of an expensive peachment and beautifully worded threat. Also, if he wanted this man gone, he would have put a bullet in his head the second he clocked in; and if it were revenge he was after, he wouldn't have gotten a warning note but his son’s head sent to him instead.

He folded the paper and put it into one of his multiple pockets, free hand going to the man’s shoulder.

“I know Black Mask’s M.O, mister, and this is not it”, no need to spook him further by describing what it was, though. “Probably just a colleague who wanted your position, or has a grudge for whatever reason. And that, I can help you with. If you work with me on this one, we can both make sure Felix has his Dad making breakfast for him tomorrow morning, and all the days after that. After all”, he smiled, no longer uncertain now that he had firm ground to work with, “your son is going places, and he’ll have to be well fed to reach them, right?”

Mr Harrinson’s smile must have had magical properties, Tim thought. There was no other explanation for the way it returned his breath back to his body.

---.----

The next time he saw a jumper, a few months later, he was slightly more ready for it. Bruce had congratulated him on his work with Mr Harrinson, and the subsequent raid they could make on one of Black Mask’s warehouses thanks to the man’s information, but Tim hadn’t been satisfied until he had read every single mission report on the batcomputer about attempted suicides. And succeed ones, too. Need to know what went well and what didn’t, after all.

So when he saw the fifty-something woman crying on top of a tower in City Hall District, he didn’t almost-crash in his attempt to get there in time. He landed softly, making just enough noise to let her know she wasn’t alone, but careful to not startle her.

“It’s a little cold up here, Lady. If you’d like, I can walk you home?”, he tries for cheeky, despite the cold fear nesting in his stomach like a grumpy, spiteful bird.

The woman, sitting by the edge, turned her head to look at him. The movement called attention to her long, strawberry blonde hair, neatly braided, and her pretty diamond earrings. The face under her perfect make up was gaunt and pale, tear tracks cleaning paths of skin to his trained eye.

Despite him interrupting what probably were very private thoughts, she smiled at his approach, kind and polite. It didn’t reach her eyes, but the intent to put him at ease was generous enough.

“I may be a lady, but any adult worth their salt would insist on walking the young child home, instead of the opposite. Besides”, she patted the rooftop under her,” I live here, so it’s not a long walk at all.”

Tim stepped closer, carefully.

“May I sit?”

“I could use the company for a bit”, she accepted, head turning back to the city below.

They sat there for a few minutes in silence, before Tim’s soft voice broke it again.

“Is there anything I can do to help convince you not to do it? Please?”

The lady smiled. “You are a very sweet boy.”

“That’s… not an answer. Can I at least know why?”

“Won’t it torment you, in the future, if we speak now?”, she asked a question of her own, turning to face him again. Despite her words, there was nothing but kindness in those deep green eyes. “If you don’t know me, I’m just another one who jumped. If we talk, I’m afraid I might stay with you long after I’m gone. You are too young for that kind of weight.”

Tim swallowed. 

“That’s easily solved, Miss;”, Dick’s rule of thumb; if unsure, always call a lady Miss before Mrs “don’t do it.”

She spared him a long, meaningful look, and he slumped over.

“Not my best, I know, but I’m kinda freaking out now?” She wasn’t like Mr Harrinson, no motive he could see, no strand to pull and unravel her pain. “Please, just… why?”

She patted one of the hands gripping his own knee. His other hand rushed over hers, sandwiching her cold, slim fingers between his gloved palms.

“There’s nothing left for me. I have a nice job, live in a pretty side of town, have friends, and still… it feels so empty. So… Meaningless. Why even bother?”

Tim chewed on her words silently. He was way out of his depth. A tangible, physical problem? He could solve those, no biggie.

Depression, though… that was a different giant to tackle. Was he even prepared enough to?

A strong gust of wind made the lady with braided hair shiver. Without thought, Tim unclasped his cape and draped it over her slim shoulders.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked, head tilted like a curious woodland animal. Tim felt strongly protective of her, of this kind, sweet lady, who said she had it all, except the one thing that mattered to her.

“I’m used to it”, he shrugged. “This suit is very warm, but cold air often trickles down from the neckline and… well. Gigs of the job and all that.”

The lady tutted, frowning for the first time since Tim arrived.

“That won’t do, young man. You need a scarf. The nights will only get colder from now on.”

He shrugged again.

“I just… don’t have the time to buy one. And I had one, but… There’s these kids who often hang out by the park, and they were so cold, I just couldn't swing by and ignore them. So I gave them my scarf to share between them. I’m just kinda bummed that I don’t have more to make sure they all stay warm.”

The braided haired lady hummed for a second.

“Well… I knit”, she started, carefully. “I don’t have children or grandchildren to give my final products to, so they’ll go to waste after I’m gone. If you’d take them out of my hands, you’ll do me a favor.” 

Tim wanted to say no, unwilling to make this any easier for her, but the chance of getting her away from the edge was enough to quell his voice.

She went and came back within minutes, a big cardboard box balanced over her shaky arms. He rose to help her, meeting the woman halfway through the roof, a good distance away from the abyss.

“This red one would look good with your suit… oh, and the green one, to keep with the theme! Or maybe the yellow one… Shame pink would be such a bad fit for your colors, because that wool is the best I worked with…”

Tim’s hand carefully took said carf out and looked it over. There were about six others in the box.

“I could take this to those kids I mentioned before… It’d still not be enough for all, but more to share between them means less cold.”

She hummed again, looking at the unfinished projects on the bottom of the box.

“If… If you give me a few days…” she muttered. “I mean, I’m in no rush”, a hand vaguely gestured towards the rooftop’s edge. “I could spare a few days finishing those, and you could take them to these kids you spoke about… and maybe, I can help make a few children less cold with this silly hobby of mine.”

Elated beyond words, Tim nodded vigorously, waxing poetry about her work and about just how excited little Ellie would be with this soft, pretty pink scarf.

His patrol route could use a few detours, after all, if that meant keeping Braided Hair Lady away from her roof.

---.----

He was just returning from a late supply run when he bumped into The Cats.

It was in an alleyway, a block off from Mrs Eloise Denvarow (formerly known as Braided Hair Lady). The older woman had caved after three months knowing each other, of Tim passing by her apartment once every other night to pick up her baked goods or knitted masterpieces, to distribute between street kids and working girls, and told him her name. It was said in passing (“Stop with that ‘Lady’ thing, honey. It’s Eloise”), as if lacking importance, when in reality it meant the world to him. Sure, he’d already known, having run a background check on her the minute he came back to the cave after stopping her from jumping, but there was that implicit vow between them, that she wouldn't tell him her name and jump, wouldn’t make him carry its weight on his shoulders forever, so it was… it was a promise, on her end, a reassurance, and Tim wasn’t even embarrassed that he cried in her arms like a baby for ten minutes.

So here he was, a month after that, still riding that high, when the desperate call from below caught his attention.

There were two teens on the dirty ground, nested among cracked bottles and old newspapers. The girl was lying in the boy’s arms, with him screaming for help.

“Robin! Thank fuck!”, he almost sobs, arms visibly tightening around the girl. Tim wants to ask how he knew to call for him, and if the proximity to Mrs Denvarow’s place was luck or not.

But it wasn’t the time to ask.

The girl was pale, which only highlighted the bruises on her face. Someone with a big fist punched her. It doesn't seem likely, considering just how distraught the other kid is, but he checks his hands just in case; fortunately, too small for that kind of damage.

She’s also breathing erratically and, when he puts a gloved hand to her neck, he realizes just how crazy her pulse is. 

Fear Toxin? Except Scarecrow is still in Arkham as far as he knows, and even if he had gotten away recently, he needs time to develop his precious chemicals. Joker’s Venom and Mad’s Hatter drugs don’t have quite this results, and Ivy doesn’t usually attack street girls just for kicks; they are also too far from her usual turf for her to be a viable suspect.

So, that leaves very few choices.

“Overdose?”, he ventures a guess, hand already fumbling through the pockets on his belt.

The other boy sobs harder, nodding while looking down at the girl in his arms. Tim gently takes the girl from him to position her straighter, to help her down the vial he finally found in his belt. It was supposed to help flush out any chemical in a few minutes, tops; they usually used it when a new type of Crazy Criminal Drug made its way to the streets and they didn’t have the time to properly prepare an antidote. It was strong, and vicious in its path to devoid the body of any and all external agents, which was why it wasn’t a preferred method; who’s to say the civilian in need of a flush isn’t in some important medicine? The Big Flush, as Dick calls it, lacked any kind of finesse or discrimination.

But it was their best shot right now, so there goes nothing. 

There’s silence while they watch the girl’s progress. He doesn’t bother asking if he called for an ambulance; they are obviously minors, probably homeless, and even if the Wayne Foundation takes care of children’s hospital fees, they’d avoid it to keep themselves out of the foster system.

But then, the kid kept talking.

“I… I found her near Grant Park. I… I didn’t know what to do, so I dragged her here. She/” and then he breaks again, hands grasping one of hers, as if letting go meant he was giving up on her and he couldn't bear it.

“Grant Park is only five blocks away,” Tim thinks out loud, mind already a mile away “and Moench’s Row illicit night clinic is about the same distance from there as this place. Why did you bring her here?”

“She… Alley… Oh, her name’s Allison, by the way. And I’m Thomas. Tom.” Introductions, miraculously, seem to do the trick here and calm him down. “Nice to meetcha.”

Tim’s not deterred by his toothy grin, but he has to admit he’s kinda cute. Like, stray cat cute.

Huh. Alley, Tom, cat… Yeah, that checks.

“What happened with Allison?” he presses softly, one arm still keeping Alley up and against his chest, the other hand on her pulse point, taking note of the way the heartbeat seems to be stabilizing. The puking fest was gonna start soon.

“She… It was on purpose.” Tom confesses, eyes going clouded for a while. “She tries to not be home, yknow? I met her in kindergarten, and even then she’d try to hide behind the teacher’s desk in hopes they’d forget about her and close the building with her inside. Anyway, we pretty much live on the streets these days, and Alley… she’s very depressed. I convinced her to see someone a while ago, even stol/ I mean, earned the money for it myself”, he’s quick to correct, eyes glancing up to see if he was smooth enough to cover it; which he wasn’t, but Tim was in favor of letting that small one go, “and they gave her a prescription for antidepressants. She’s been kicking it down the road, but she’s gotten a lot worse and I wouldn't lay off her case about it, so she sneaked back home to get some money from her folks to pay for it.”

By the way the kid looks at her bruised face with unmeasurable guilt, Tim knows she didn’t go unnoticed.

“And… I don’t know. We were supposed to meet up by the Commerce Street Highway, but she was late, so I walked around for a bit and… I saw her there, on a bench. She was/ she was still conscious then, and she told me… she said ‘these aren’t what the doc gave me, but they took the pain away all the same’.” Again, Tom chokes on his own emotions. If he had any free hands, he’d try to put one on his shoulder for comfort. “I don’t even know what she took, or where did she get it from!”

Tim has heard whispers of loan sharks and drug dealres camping toghter by the Fashion Distric, just north of Grant Park, so he can make an informed guess as to how that happened. Also, he now knows what he’ll do the rest of the night, once these kids are safe.

When Tom has gotten a grasp of himself, he pushes again.

“So, why did you bring her here?”

He shrugs, a bit abashed.

“Well… I mean, everyone knows about how Mrs Denvarow is the one giving clothes and food away, and that you help her distribute it. Well, not everyone, but… you know, the street kids. We flagged her building with a yellow skull and everything.”

A yellow skull grafitti, Tim’s mind translates, is the street equivalent of a ‘don’t fuck with this place’ sing. A sort of protective sigil. He wonders how he missed it.

“And… This is kind of your thing, right? So I figured you’d be better prepared to deal with it than some overworked clinic that might even not have enough free equipment to help us. Good think I did, too” he gestures at his friend, whose face is now looking flushed; a sign both of growing health, and of the upcoming puke. Tim’s quick to turn her so her back is to his chest, head tilted down just in case.

As if rehearsed, Alley chose that exact second to empty the contents of her now flushed stomach. Tim would need a sample of that, to catch the responsible dealer.

Tom held her hair away from her face while Tim kept her steady, and she blinked bearily at them after it was done, still not completely lucid but a world away from the girl she was ten minutes ago.

“She’ll still need a hospital.'' Tim informs Tom sternly. The boy had taken his friend in his arms again, softly rubbing her back to help with the uncomfortable ache leftover after puking your guts out. “The Moench’s Row clinic should be able to help with any side effect, but she’s safe for now.”

He nods, thanks Tim again and again and politely refuses his help to take her to the clinic. They part ways, both parties probably thinking this would be the last time they saw each other.

Still, their situation sticks with Tim during the rest of his patrol, and he decides to stop by the clinic, just to check on them. His knuckles still ache from the absolute beating he delivered to the ones who gave Alley the money and sold her the drugs, so he’s in better spirits and hopes to spread it to the kids.

Alley is awake when he visits, and her shy, little smile is enough for the rage inside of Tim to die down. The bad guys dealt with, the civilians safe, everything in its proper place.

He sleeps a bit better that night.

---.----

He almost doesn’t see him. 

Actually, he probably wouldn't have, deeply lost into his own head, had the guy been anything other than a redhead. That exact shade of  orangy-brown auburn, that he would have to pick up from his workbench at Titan’s tower after Bart had decided to ‘keep him company’ during his all-nighters. 

It was ironic, how now he would give anything in the world to have those same strands of hair fucking up his experiments, if only for the impish, ‘please-don’t-kill-me-I’m-an-angel’ smile he would receive in exchange.

“Hey”, he greets, landing softly at the man’s right, sitting a few feet away from him, too tired to even stand up on common ground. “What’s happening?”

He shouldn’t be doing this. He really, really shouldn’t. His own mental health was less than stellar, and even thinking about it made him feel worse. He didn’t deserve to feel bad, not when civilians were in the hospital after his latest fuck up, Cass was missing, Cassie barely hanging in there, the family a mess with Damian’s lovely introduction, and… well. Every other person he knew…

Point being, there must be someone else, in a better inner place, that could speak to this guy. But since no one seemed to be patrolling this route, Tim could only hope to stall him long enough for a more capable vigilante to show up.

The guy looks startled, then angry. He has green eyes, he notices, under the glasses. Not sure why that sticks to him.

“What are you doing here? You’re not going to try to stop me, are you? You’re not going to swing down and catch me in mid air or something, are you?”

He seems defensive, but Tim notices a bit of hesitancy. He has worked with less.

(He wishes he had more energy to do more with what little he has)

“No. If I did, what’s to stop you from doing it again later, or tomorrow? I can’t be with you every second.  If you want to do this, you are going to, no matter how much I don’t want you to. And I don’t want you to, just so we are clear.”

The guy still looks suspicious, but he hasn’t taken that last step forward, so… a win?

“I just needed to sit down for a minute. ‘been thinking about all the ways I’ve screwed up lately, and…”

Auburn-hair deflates a little, turning away from Tim to examine the night sky. “Well, that makes two of us.”

The bat signal lights up the night. His newfound companion looks at it, then him. “Do you need to get that?”

“Nah. Batman will, and if he needs help he’ll call me.” Tim shrugs. He needs a coffee-power-up. He needs to sleep. He needs for his loved ones to not be dead.

He needs to see if there’s anything he can do for this guy.

“So, do you want to tell me why you’re doing this? So someone can go to your family and friends to let them know?”

After all, if it was him who did it (and… wasn’t that food for thought?), he’d like Bruce and Dick to know why. To not… to not blame themselves.

Redhead looks annoyed again. Uh. A short fuse, this one.

“Don’t try any psychology, or try to make me feel guilty about hurting anyone… this isn't about anyone but me.”

He shouldn’t say it, but… “That’s pretty naive,  but whatever. Tell me anyway.” He smirks a bit, then “Unless you’re in a hurry or something.”

He hears the guy (he really should ask his name) as he tells his story. A cold, clinical part of his mind recognizes the symptoms described almost unconsciously by the guy as depression. He would know, after all. The other part of him, the part that made him Robin, that made him human, discarded the label; there was much more to this guy than his illness, and he would treat him like it.

“So here I am,” he finishes, now sitting side by side with Tim, both their legs hanging above the bustling city. “Now’s when you tell me how stupid this is. That other people have much bigger problems, there’s hunger and war, and I’m weak because my problems are nothing next to stuff like that.”

Tim thinks of a father, desperately thinking his death would save his son’s life, when in fact it would have only made it worse. He thinks of a woman, so full of love and warmth, looking into the abyss and feeling empty inside. He thinks of a couple of kids, one hanging to life with nails and teeth, the other hanging to her just as fiercely.

He thinks about himself. About looking at a future version of himself, hating what he sees, and deciding to drown the bud before it can even flower. He thinks of sickly green water, of cloning equipment in a laboratory, of a phone falling to the ground after delivering him with more bad news.

He’s still in a bad place, still probably not the most capable person to be doing this, but a part of him is sure this is the right answer. The only answer.

“No. Your problems are worse than anyone else’s, because they are yours. I’ve... felt bad like you have, and some pretty bad things have happened to me.”

Red hair looks as tired as Tim feels, so it’s a surprise that he has enough energy to glance at him worriedly, hand stretching a bit in his direction in a half-formed attempt to comfort.

“You guys make it look so easy, swinging around, having fun… Things get bad for you, too?”

Tim looks down, and smiles. It’s a sad, bitter thing. He thinks about parents lost before ever connecting to them, about a girlfriend going away, a sister lost to the madness of their lives, about two best friends gone, one even dying in his arms. 

He gives no details. Doesn’t talk about it all, just shares a little bit of himself. It’s only fair, after hearing about this guy’s demons. Misery loves company, doesn’t it?

“So what do you do? How do you deal with it?” the guy asks when he’s done, looking at Tim by the corner of his not-very-dry eyes.

Tim forces himself to remember. “One of the things I’ve learned is that it gets bad for everyone sometimes, Superman, Batman… everyone. I remember that I’m not alone, that things do get better. Sometimes on their own, most times when you work at them. And when I have trouble remembering those things, I find people to talk to.”

Most of those were dead, but Tim is hit with the epiphany that not all of them are. He still has people. He still…

“And you’ve got people like that? That you can talk to?” asks the guy, tone both worried and hopeful. Tim stands up, does his best to look calm.

“Yeah. Your folks, and old friend, even a trained counselor you’ve never met before… someone who has a totally different perspective because they’re not as close to your problems as you are. Maybe they give you advice, and that’s great… or maybe they just listen. Sometimes, that’s all you need. Anyway, that’s how I deal with it when things suck. And it works. Want to come down from there and give it a try?”

The guy gets back to his feet, as Tim watches from behind. Having been in this situation before, the fear grabbing a hold of him isn’t new, but it's different. He thinks he's too worn down. It takes the edge off of any emotion. 

Except hope. Hope still hurts like a sharp knife when it’s snatched away. He prays it won’t be, right now.

Green eyes (Jason- that’s who they reminded him of) look down, deep in thought. Then he turns, smiles at Tim. There’s hope in him too.

“Yeah, why not?”

They get down together. He gives him a few numbers and they have breakfast together. The guy promises to call his English teacher, at least. Tim promises himself to call his brother.

At least, he still has Dick.

---.----

He’s been putting off doing his rounds since he came back, he knows. But…

It changed him, a bit. Going around the world, dealing with his grief while staying on his toes, ready to break down one second and having to field off attacks from all sides the next, with the Demon’s honeyed whispers echoing in his ear and mind. 

He’ll never tell anyone, just how tempting it had been. How much he had wanted to reach for that offered hand. To lay his head on someone’s shoulder and let the responsibility bleed from his.

Tim will never tell anyone, but he’ll always know. And it’ll always make him hate himself a little bit more.

So, he’s different now. And he’s scared- that the people he gave hope to, that he talked with, that he could never stop thinking about, even halfway across the world- that they won’t like this new, worn down him.

That Mr Harrinson the Good Father, Braided Hair Lady and her sweaters, the inseparable Stray Cats, the girl with the bright yellow cardigan, the kid with the scarred wrists, the woman with beautiful star-like freckles that she’ll hopefully pass on to her baby, the gentle giant man with calloused hands, the petite but fierce young teen with defiant eyes and dead name, the soft spoken girl with the loudest laugh, auburn-haired boy and his hopeful and sympathetic green eyes… and so, so many more. They all knew him, maybe not at his best, but certainly better than now. The boy that kept them from jumping had been a bright, magical Robin. The teen that came back to their city was dark, weary Red Robin. It felt kinda like he had cheated them, returning this broken version of himself to their doorsteps.

But he had to go check on all of them. Even if Cass (and it was such a relief, that even after he lost everything else, the return of his sister could at least be a speck of light in the mist of misery surrounding him) had promised to do so, there were so many of them… and she couldn't possibly remember everyone, all the time. And if anyone had fallen through the gaps… if anyone had stood on a rooftop, waiting for their Robin to save them, only to think ‘nobody cares’ as he didn’t show up…

Tim gets sick only thinking about it. If it did happen, then he needs to know. He has to carry their names with him, that’s the least he can do for failing them.

So he’ll go check on them… anytime now. Soon. The moment he gathers enough energy to climb back to his feet and get his grapple hook out.

...The city looks full of life, beneath him. Like it feels the return of its Knight. The end of the internal quarrel among it’s vigilantes, that almost tore it all apart. The relief in Nightwing, the hesitant peace in Red Hood, the mellowing of Robin.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the worst ways)

Maybe it also feels Red Robin’s emptiness. Maybe that’s why it's so lively down there, like the ground is calling to him, just as it did when Ra’s broke the window with his body.

He thinks... he won’t have to check on anyone, if he jumps. And that way, there will be no name to carry with him to his grave.

“Robin!”

“Stop!”

“Don’t do it, please!”

He startles. Hadn’t even noticed when he got to his feet, nor that one of them was hanging over the abyss. The fact that he wasn’t alone on that rooftop any longer hadn’t even breached his usually perfect spatial awareness.

They didn’t call for him, but the voices sounded distraught, they were close, and he was a former Robin, so he turned around, tired, but with obedience and service too ingrained in him to consider denying help to whoever it was.

It turned out, he wouldn't need to go make his rounds any longer. His rounds had come to him.

There were… too many people on this roof. It was way too crowded.

“Robin!”

It was one voice now, not a mixture of them, so he could identify the one yelling his former alias. Allison broke from the mob of people (and there were more still, filling in from the open rooftop door, like a never-ending stream…) to run to him, looking like she might have just jumped into his arms, if not for Tom clutching her hoodie to stop her a few feet from him. Good move, considering he was still balancing precariously on the edge.

“Alleycat?” he whispered, a little blown. She looked so different (magenta looked amazing on the tips of her hair, and she totally pulled off that lip piercing), but he’d recognize those eyes anywhere. He’d been so relieved, when she first opened them after that dangerous overdose.

“We were so fucking worried, dude”, came from Tomcat just behind her, still gripping her hoodie (still keeping her safe; some things never change).

“I…”

“Where were you?” Maddie, not longer yellow but still wearing a cute cardigan, stepped up too.

“I’m… I’m not Robin”, he blurts out. They… knew it was him?  It… like, obviously there was a new Robin, Damian was (still, but probably not for much longer) smaller than him, but to immediately know that he was…

“Yeah, no shit. I’d know that long hair and noodle limbs of yours anywhere, kid. Known you too long to be fooled. And the new kid’s really trigger happy with that lon’nife of his... You’re still the Robin I prefer, and fuck if I understand the name passing you heroes do” Mr Harrinson spoke from the back of the crowd, one hand clutching his kid’s shoulder, the other arm around…

“Braided Hair Lady?”

Eloise smiles at him, soft and warm as ever, a little shy when his eyes go to the arm hugging her close and back to her. He recognizes some of her handmade scarfs around the necks of plenty of people on the roof. 

“I… wasn’t aware you all knew each other.”

A petite young teen steps forward, walking until they were shoulder-to-shoulder with the Strays.

“Most of us met through the app, and then introduced the others. There’s more, of course, but not everyone could meet here. Samantha’s baby was born just two months ago, so she chose to stay home, but we promised her pictures, so you’ll have to say cheese soon birdboy. Also, I found my name. I’m Cal.”

Allison’s smile broadened and she sneaked an arm around Cal’s waist.

“They are the new Straycat. Calico cat’s are the cutest shit ever, aren’t they?”

Well… Having someone as badass as Cal watching Tom and Alley’s back would sure make Tim feel a lot better about both kids being out in the streets. 

Were they still on the streets? He’d need to find out and fix that, soon.

Then it hit him. “What app?”

Auburn-hair smiled from his place, at the front of the crowd just behind the Cats.

“Felix over there,” he pointed over his shoulder at Mr Harrinson’s son, who smiled shyly at Tim, eyes shining in gratitude and admiration like they always did when Tim did his rounds and checked on his dad, “defended you in a GothamHeroes forum once. Some bratty douchebag was complaining about you landing over his car or something and this kid went for his fucking troath.”

“I was in that chat too,” spoke Tom, smiling a little too savagely for a kid that sweet. “He tore the idiot to shreds, speaking about how you saved his dad’s life and took it upon yourself to make sure he was still okay even weeks after you met. I mentioned how you saved Alley and Mrs Denvarow, we exchanged numbers… then we met Cal during one of our rounds handing out Mrs D’s scarfs and food. They were weary of everyone else, but trusted us because they heard you talk about the clothes and baked goods... And Cal’s friend Gina worked with Samantha on the streets and told them about her story...”

“Soon, it seemed like people personally saved by you were just… popping out of the snow like daisies” Blair laughed, and it was still the loudest, brightest noise. The night seemed a little clearer, the air a little fresher for it. “Felix made his own private chat and added us, and we added everyone else we knew… The word went around about it, and more and more people joined in…”

“It’s really a wonder how you had any time to fight crime, seeing how often you were apparently comforting jumpers on the roofs” Ailbert, still as gigantic and gentle as always, raised a hand from the middle of the group. He had a little girl on his shoulders, probably the baby niece he had taken in after his sister’s death. 

“Then the new kid appeared and Gotham went to hell on a basket, and no one saw you around any longer”, Elijah, wrists no more scarred than the last time he saw him, his arm tangled with Maddie’s, went on. “We were… well, we were a bit confused.”

“Speak for yourself, Cal jumped Red Hood one night, held him at knife point and demanded to know what the fuck happened to our Robin. We were like, zero chill.”

“Sorry, they did what?” Tim was definitely in the twilight zone now. 

“No thoughts, head empty, only murder”

...Tim needed to give Jason a quick call. Also sign Cal up for anger management. And probably, judging by the way both Alley and Tom were looking at them, get one of the adults to give them the talk.

Mrs Eloise smiled at him, and like always it served to calm his nerves. That woman was a different kind of magic than Alfred, but magic indeed. “Anyway, dear, what matters is that we were worried about you. And then this incredible young man, Aaron,” she waved at him, and he winked one of his green eyes in response, “suggested we kept in closer contact with one another, so anyone who spotted you could inform the others.”

Aaron shrugged, his auburn mane of hair bobbing with the movement. “It just seemed like it’d be easier to have an alarm set up, since messaging everyone would take so long… and then someone suggested making a map of Gotham so we could have clearer routes for the kids handing out Mrs Denvarow’s stuff… and someone wanted a shared blackboard to write theories on where the fuck you were with others… and a few demanded a space to share photos, possible sightings or old selfies with you… It kinda spiralled and I thought it’d be less of a chaotic mess if I made an app that could do all of that, instead of all of us using multiple apps for the different fixtures everyone asked for… Since this is Gotham, we also added some Rouge Alarm for whenever a criminal was set loose. It helped keep us safe, and if we knew when crime was happening, we could pay attention to which heroes answered the call…”

“And then, you fought that firefly guy the other day”, Felix said, still by his dad’s side, still looking as awed as ever when looking at tim. “I was in the crowd, and I recognized you within a minute.”

“I don’t really understand technology that well, and the group chat was such a mess that day” Ailbert lamented, but he was still smiling. They all were.

That hit Tim then, hard. 

They all looked so happy to see him. To have him back. They had been waiting for him to be back, banded together to make sure they’d all know when he did.

“You looked so sad the last time we saw you” Blair added softly, sadly. “And… when you saved Aaron, you told him about such sad things…”

Elijah winced “And I heard the Midnighter fell from Wayne Tower a few weeks ago, but then he was never seen around again, and your suit looks kinda similar, so that was probably really you… and, that fall…”

“We were very worried” repeated Eloise, but her eyes didn’t lose their warmth. “But you’re back now, and we can keep track of you and each other now, so it’s all good. It’s wonderful to have you back, love.”

This was an out of body experience.

Something must have shown on his face, because Cal snorted.

“We adore you, you dumbass. You are our hero.”

Alley smiled. “You are our Robin.”

Tim fell into her arms, and away from the roof’s edge. The rest of the crowd was upon them in seconds, all eager to pat his back or joke about the cowl hiding his hair from their hands.

He met eyes with Aaron, over Alley’s shoulder. He looked like the hope Tim had helped plant in his heart all those months ago had flowered, and the petals filled his heart.

(He was feeling poetic tonight, in the best ways)

“You should download the app too, so you always have someone to talk to. Look it up. It’s called BirdWatchers, because we’ll always look up and out for you. Because when we wanted to jump, you lended us your wings to fly instead.”

It was like this fucker wanted Tim to cry.

“Welcome home, Red Robin.”

[ayanna-wild]

Because You're Beautiful

Word Count: 1264

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Plus size Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, possible trigger

A/N: Request from Wattpad, nearly all of my stories are made to fit pretty much anyone's body type and or ethnicity, as I try to keep the reader's description as vague as possible, however if you'd like to directly address a certain aspect, like this story, feel free to ask!

“Loving your body is about being comfortable in your body, and only you get to set the parameters of that. Only you get to decide what that looks like, and only you know where the finish line is. Never let anyone make you feel ashamed about what you decide, or don't decide, to put on your body.” — Brittany Gibbons

Summary: You hadn’t really wanted to go to Lux, to a crowded club, with so many people. But Lucifer had looked so hopeful when he asked you to come, and you never could say no to him. When the night quickly turns sour though, your loving devil is there to remind you just how much he truly loves you.

.................................................................................

You stared at yourself in the mirror, dawned in the nicest dress you owed. Well truthfully the dress you had bought just for this occasion. You shifted nervously as you begun to second guess yourself the longer you stared.

Was this dress the right color for you?

Was it the right style? The right length?

So many doubts began to cloud your mind. You were thicker than most girls and although you were happy with yourself, your insecurities still reared their ugly head from time to time. The abrupt knocking on your door silenced your runaway thoughts. You took one last dissatisfied look before moving to answer it. The familiar smile of the handsome man on the other side quieted your insecurities just a little and you smiled back, albeit rather stiffly.

"My darling you look stunning! Is that a new dress? I haven't seen it before." He smiled approvingly as his eyes roamed over your figure.

You shifted from one foot to the other under his intense gaze.

"I just bought it actually, I figured I should look nice for tonight."

Tonight being the first night you'd agreed to accompany Lucifer to such a crowded place. The first night you allowed him to proudly show you off as his girlfriend. You were normally more reserved in your relationship with Lucifer. You'd seldom agree to go anywhere too many people would see. You had told him it was simply because you were shy but in truth you felt almost ashamed. The women Lucifer used to date were stunning, perfectly sculpted, and much, much different from you.

So, despite your anxiety, your insecurities, your fears, you'd agreed to come out with him tonight. Agreed because he'd asked you so sweetly, agreed because he'd been so eager to show you off.

You, his beautiful girlfriend, as he put it.

And him, the gorgeous man, far out of your league.

"Well I think it’s beautiful on you, shall we?"

Lucifer held his arm out and you wrapped your arm around his. His smile was almost blinding, and he led you to his car, beaming in pride.

The ride to Lux was mostly quiet, at least from your end, Lucifer however had no problem chatting away. Even if it was more of a one-sided conversation. You caught every other word he said, mostly trying to psych yourself up for the evening ahead.

When the two of you had finally arrived you were a puddle of anxiety and stress. He must have sensed your internal dismay and gently placed a hand on your thigh, his smile encouraging and his eyes filled with worry.

"You'll be fine my dear, and if it gets to be too much, we can always sneak out." He winked.

You let out a breathy laugh, a bit more at ease and you nodded. Lucifer leaned over, kissing your forehead.

"My beautiful love." He murmured.

~

The night although a bit stressful was going wonderfully, you were actually having fun. Lucifer was showing you off to anyone he could, a proud and somewhat smug look on his face the whole time. His introductions often started with 'my beautiful' or 'my lovely' and once even 'my goddess', you'd elbowed him for that one. Lucifer's affection for you made you feel like you were on cloud nine and your worries melted away.

Until he left you alone to refill your drinks.

You'd been standing at a table, glancing around at all the people when a woman approached you. She had silky black hair, and porcelain skin and her dress clung to her slim figure in the most flattering way. Her expression held no kindness and you frowned a little.

"You're Lucifer's girlfriend?"

It was a seemingly innocent question but the way she'd said it, with such distaste and disbelief, made it clear what she really thought.

"Yes..."

You really wished your voice hadn't come out so quiet.

"Why?"

She looked you up and down, a disapproving frown on her face.

"Look at you."

Her words stung and you visibly flinched as if she'd slapped you.

"He's just..."

"Is this a sort of pity date? Is he doing you a favor?"

Her questions made you feel small, so insignificant.

"I'm sorry but who are you?"

You tried to sound indifferent but your voice faded off.

"Lucifer and I used to hook up now and then, he broke off our arrangement whenever he started dating though. I just didn't know it was for someone like you. You're not nearly as skinny as the girl's he usually goes for."

She curled her lip in disgust and you cast your eyes downward, suddenly ashamed and fighting back tears.

"You don't belong with someone like him. Look at you! You'll only weigh him down." She smiled cruelly pushing past you.

You stumbled back when she intentionally bumped her shoulder into yours. A hand on your back steadied you and you watched as the woman took a step back. Her vicious smile gone.

"Lucifer... I-I didn't see you there..." She said.

You looked up at your boyfriend, whose expression was dark and furious. His hand moved from your back to your waist, and he pulled you close to his side.

"Clearly."

The tone of his voice sent chills down even your spine and you weren’t the one on the receiving end of his anger.

"I was just-"

"I heard what you were doing Molly. Now leave my club, you're no longer welcomed here." Lucifer snapped.

The woman, Molly, gaped at him in disbelief, and she stuttered out a protest.

"You're kicking me out! Over her!? How could you choose someone like that over me!"

Lucifer gave her a vindictive smile, and he held you closer.

"Because her beauty isn't skin deep, and quite frankly my dear, you're as shallow as a puddle, I prefer someone with a little more depth, which you lack entirely. You may have your looks, but you're a truly hideous human being."

Lucifer waved the bouncer over and led you away as you listened to Molly screech as she was escorted out.

~

Lucifer had taken you up to the penthouse, encouraged you to take off your heels and had gotten you a slightly stronger drink than you'd had before.

"I'm sorry I left you alone for so long darling, are you alright?"

You forced a smile, waving a hand dismissively.

"I'm alright Luc, it's nothing I didn't already know."

He frowned at your words, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"I'm sorry?" He questioned.

You averted your gaze from his.

"She wasn't wrong, sure her words hurt, but she had a point."

Lucifer felt his heart ache at your words.

"What did she say Y/N?"

You stilled refused to look at him, instead choosing to pick at the fabric of your dress.

"That you were out of my league, I would only weigh you down, that I'm... I'm well I'm thicker than most girls. Just reminding me of things I already knew." You mumbled.

Lucifer was quiet for a moment, and you couldn’t bare to look at him. But in the next second your drink was plucked from your hands and you were being pulled into a crushing embrace.

"Oh love, don't you know I think you're perfect how you are? You're a kind and wonderful person. You light up a room just by walking in, you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

You blinked back tears, holding him tightly as he kissed the top of your head.

"Darling I wouldn't change a thing about you." Lucifer muttered.

"Even if I'm heavy?"

He chuckled pulling away to cup your face in his hands.

"Especially that, besides there's just more for me to love, and I do love you, very much."

................................................................................

Tag List: @sallyp-53 @mizzezm @adira-secrets @we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @gingernarwal @im-just-along-for-the-ride @lifeshortbro @measure-in-pain @emiwrites3reads @stubby-toe-589331 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @kelly-n-russell @krispyalpacaduck

[sineala]

Some Tony/Ty meta

Here is some Tony/Ty meta! Because I've been reading DreamVision a lot! This is an expanded version of something I posted on Discord a few weeks ago.

Remember how at the beginning of the month I mentioned I was writing a Steve/Tony DreamVision AU in which Tony and Tiberius Stone are actually dating in the course of the story? Well, I still am. I am also very bad at estimating word count because I thought I'd be done in 20k and I'm at 60k and counting, but that is neither here nor there.

Anyway, so I've been rereading DreamVision a lot and discovering multiple plot holes, namely:

Radioactive Man explodes himself in the middle of a battle with Tony and it is apparently suicide; then he shows up alive at the end of the last issue in the arc and it is never explained how he survived exploding himself. He's just... alive.

After Trevor Donahue tells Tony about Ty's propensity for homicide, Tony immediately confronts Ty, and Ty behaves as if he already knew what Tony was there to talk about and what Donahue had said.

There doesn't seem to have been any reason for Ty to have confessed to murder in front of Tony, although to be fair, subsequent appearances of Ty make it clear that he just seems to be the kind of guy who likes to confess to murder; in an appearance shortly after this (in an issue of Wolverine) he confesses to one of the murders he committed in this very arc that had previously not been explicitly pinned on him. I guess he feels like he needs other people to appreciate his Flawless Murder Skills.

The entire plot with Tony being smeared in the media begins when Ty's news channel airs footage of Tony meeting with Trevor Donahue and claims that Whiplash's death back in the Sentient Armor arc was the fault of Tony and/or Iron Man. But the news story doesn't make it clear what Donahue has to do with Whiplash -- they just say that because he met with Donahue, he's a suspect in Whiplash's death. Now, we the readers know that Tony actually probably should be a suspect (Whiplash was murdered by the Sentient Armor) and that Whiplash was very much connected to Donahue (before he dies, he claims Donahue is the one who sent him after Iron Man)... but there's no way the news should know any of that. As far as I can tell.

But, anyway, the actual point of this post is that I wanted to mention a thing I worked out about the timing of Tony and Ty's relationship.

Most 616 fiction that postulates a past Tony/Tiberius relationship sets it either when Tony and Ty were classmates or at some point slightly after that, while Tony was at MIT. And since this is non-canonical, we can all say what we want, but I have what I think is a pretty good argument for why, if a Tony/Ty relationship was a thing at all, it happened when they were both 21. Which is very specific, yes, but I have Reasons.

We can infer based on the flashbacks we see of Tony and Ty in IM v3 #38 that they are probably the same age, because they seem to have been in the same classes as children; I suppose there could be mixed-age classes at the fancy boarding school that we know Tony went to as mentioned in IM #287 (which is therefore probably the school they attended together), but the easiest assumption is that they were same-age classmates.

The very end of the flashback is what's relevant here. Tony talks about their rivalry, narrating the flashback, and he ends it by talking about when he and Ty became close. So they were rivals, maybe they were friends, and at a certain point they "became close" which is a good candidate for a euphemism for "were fucking," in my opinion. He doesn't say that they were close before that, though it doesn't preclude them having been good friends.

(This also doesn't preclude them having been physically involved at an earlier time, of course, just that they weren't "close" prior to then. So if you're postulating a relationship that's romantic -- at least on Tony's part -- I feel like this statement makes that unlikely, but it doesn't rule out a FWB situation.)

Tony says, specifically, that they became close after Ty's parents died. And he says that he knew what Ty was going through because his own parents had recently died. (We later find out that this is what ends up motivating what was actually Ty's murder of his own parents.)

And the thing is, we can date that, at least by internal chronology. Because we know that Tony was 21 when his parents died. So Ty was also probably 21. So this is, actually, well after they were in school together -- it doesn't seem like Ty also went to college with Tony, because Tony would have probably mentioned if he had. So at this point they haven't even been classmates for years. But this is when they "became close." The panel where Tony discusses this shows them drinking together.

So they have to be at least 21 when they are "close" but probably not that much older, because there's probably not a whole lot of time between Tony's parents' death and when Tony became Iron Man and then an Avenger, and his involvement with Ty seems to have preceded both of those things.

Curiously, even though Ty is canonically in Europe between that time and his reappearance in Tony's life in the first DreamVision arc, we know they must have met each other at least once after that. There's a throwaway line from Pepper in IM v3 #39 about Ty hitting on her at one of Tony's Christmas parties, and seeing as how Tony didn't even know Pepper until after he became Iron Man, Ty has to have come back into Tony's life, however briefly, at some point.

(Jan and Hank also clearly know Ty; they're at Ty's DreamVision party. Judging by the way Steve talks about the smear campaign against Tony, I don't think he's ever met Ty; he doesn't canonically meet him in this arc. Or ever, as far as I know, unless there's something I'm not thinking of.)

In conclusion, what we can tell from canon is that Tony and Ty had a close relationship in the period after Ty murdered his own parents to one-up Tony. Ty was probably playing on that for a lot of sympathy. Alcohol was definitely involved, which around Tony is probably a Bad Idea and Ty, who is very clever, might already have known that.

So I mean, I'm not saying that Ty canonically got Tony drunk and fucked him because he was taking advantage of Tony's good nature and, uh, his probably-lowered inhibitions, while Tony thought he was loving and comforting his grieving friend who actually murdered his own parents, and thereby Ty was arranging this entire situation so that he could pwn Tony and also receive free orgasms. I'm just saying that's what I'm writing in this fic, and you're welcome to join me in fictional dub-con gaslighting hell. The end.

[janekfan]

Chronic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802141

Thank you @taylortut for helping me!!!

Jon looked at the clock.

537.

The glowing numbers burned themselves into his retinas. How had it been less than an hour since last he’d checked? No use for it. Better to get himself up and ready for work. But he’d closed his eyes against the headache blaring like a klaxon and he’d have to open them again at some point.

Taking advantage of his lonely flat, Jon allowed himself to indulge the noise pushing its way through grit teeth as he maneuvered his sore legs from under the quilt. He sat a moment, pressing the bare soles of his feet on the cold floor and levering his heavy body upright with a shaking arm.

Exhausted.

And it’s only--a quick glance.

544.

The hell was wrong with him?

Since just before accepting the position as Head Archivist, and rightly pissing off both Sasha and Tim on her behalf, Jon felt like he’d been constantly coming down with something. Dizzy and nauseous and unable to eat, he was chronically exhausted and while he’d never slept well at the best of times, it was evading him more than ever.

And there were his mornings. Struggling to motivate himself out of bed, brushing his teeth with his eyes closed and leaning against the wall. Deciding he could forgo a shower just once more and choosing instead to make breakfast. Forcing himself to eat a piece of dry toast with his heart hammering away in his throat and half laying on the table, panting through his tea. Mentally, Jon prepared himself for the walk to the train, automatically going for his cane because lord knew he needed the support.

He’d get to the Institute hours early.

At least that made him look good?

Taking advantage of being a cane user, Jon opted for a reserved seat, the guilt at truly needing one eating away at his insides. But there were black spots at the corners of his vision and he had to sit down before he fell down and the guilt is a far sight better than causing a scene. The trip was too short. His chest ached from the constant pounding and he pressed the hand not holding his cane for dear life against his breastbone. It didn’t help but the pressure and touch grounded him enough to stand up. To head to the cross street. To wait for the lights to change. To stagger down the stairs and into his office, to drop into his desk chair and focus on every breath of air moving into his body and back out of it.

Jon put his head down. There was no one here. Wouldn’t be for a couple hours yet and he was exhausted, shaking from it. Nauseated. There wasn’t a fever. He’d gone as far as to purchase a thermometer to be certain when the strange symptoms refused to abate no matter how often he let himself rest, no matter the meals he tried his damndest to eat, the water he drank down. He was trying. Jon couldn’t remember ever taking such good care of himself and of course it refused to pay off. In Uni, he’d driven himself into the ground with little consequence. He’d maintained those habits until a few months ago and now--

Muffled voices drifted through his door, the rise and fall of easy conversation. The kind he’d once been allowed to partake in. Laughter filled the air and while Jon wished to join them he knew he wasn’t welcome.

Why had he done it?

Why hadn’t he refused Elias?

Because you’re selfish. You’ve always been selfish. Needy. Greedy, grasping, always striving to know answers and never satisfied with what you're given. You take what you don’t deserve.

Reluctantly, Jon stood, slowly, because doing anything quickly these days has him ducking his head between his legs or waking up on the floor without any recollection of how he came to be there. He could at least collect their research in person, greet them. Try to be the boss they deserved.

Sasha was the boss they deserved.

“Ah, g’good morning.”

“Jon!” Martin, smiling shyly. “You’re here so early!” He began to stammer and Jon’s legs began to ache. This wasn’t a good day. They seldom were anymore. “I m’mean, of course y’you are, you work very hard!” Martin was saved by Tim swinging an arm around his shoulders.

“You’ve broken ‘im, boss.” A flush rose in Jon’s cheeks. He could feel it. “No worries, Marto. He’s always been an early riser.” While it was said in jest, the tone settled heavy in Jon’s chest, directly beside the pain blossoming like a thorny rose. Luckily, he was rescued by Rosie, standing halfway down the stairs and informing him that Elias requested him in his office. Jon didn’t relish the climb, no matter how grateful he was to escape out from underneath Sash’s heavy gaze. She had every right and he would bear his punishment in silence until she chose, if she ever did, to forgive him.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Jon limped out of Elias’ office without any recollection of what they’d spoken about or if he’d even spoken at all. Thumping pain and panic and he knew he was rude to ignore Rosie at her desk but he wasn’t in any shape to hold a conversation, fairly certain that he wasn’t able to currently speak, far too focused on trying to hide how ill he was. But every sound was magnified tenfold in his ears and he could barely remember where the door to the archives was with the way his head reeled and spun. Jon wanted to sink to the ground once he had the door between himself and the lobby but he’d never make it to his feet again after that. Push through, he told himself. Get to your desk. He allowed himself a moment, two, just to put his head to rights, to try and breathe through the battering of his pulse.

And oh god he wasn’t going to make it and he wondered if somehow Elias knew. It was as though he’d kept him standing there talking about nothing until Jon hit his limit, knowing he wouldn’t have the strength to get back to his office.

But he had to try and he’d almost gotten down the ridiculously narrow stairwell before he forgot nearly entirely why he was there in the first place. Was he going up? Down? Meeting with someone? Just arriving? He could barely breathe and the panic welling in his throat was choking and the black was crawling over his eyes and the dizziness only increased and he needed...needed…

For a moment, Jon didn’t recognize where he was, the migraine, the fuzziness, conspiring against memory and reason. But he knew this color, the hideous lick of paint some contractor had splashed over the walls a lifetime ago.

Breakroom?

Wha--

“Jon!” He winced, his own name like broken glass shredding every sense to ribbons. “Christ, are you alright?” Martin, the sounds he made were shrill, grating, and if he’d been able to tell him to be silent, he would have. “We heard the noise--you’d, you fainted! On the stairs! Luckily it was only the last few.” Jon blinked, dull and dumb, forcing himself up, up, up, and through heavy mist and fog in his search for words. Weary to the marrow of his aching bones, Jon slumped on the cushions and tried to think of a way to stop Martin’s incessant chattering. Tim and Sasha, alerted most likely by all the commotion, stood over him and he craned his neck up to look at them. Tim especially looked furious.

“You could have been seriously hurt!”

“S’sorry…” And he was, between his rabbiting heartbeat, throbbing migraine, and difficulty drawing breath into his exhausted lungs, he wanted to cry with how sorry he was.

“This is ridiculous. You need to take better care of yourself.” Jon wasn’t sure why the sting from Tim’s accusation cut so deep and he hung his head, biting trembling lips to prevent the tears threatening to spring free.

It wasn’t fair.

By all accounts he was taking care of himself. More than ever!

“Did you even eat today? Drink anything?” He nodded, miserable, unwell, and equipped with no better answers than the truth.

“Tim. He’s just come to.” The understanding was the final straw, and Jon’s sight blurred with salt damp. “I’ll make sure he eats something before going back to work.”

“Alright, Martin. If he gives you any trouble, call.” At Jon, he pointed. “And you, no trouble.” And he nodded miserably.

“Okay, they’ve gone.” The familiar sounds of the kettle heating filled the room, the clink of a pair of ceramic mugs, the rustling of the tea bags, Martin’s distracted murmuring, all combined to calm him. “How long have you been feeling this way?” Jon looked up, surprised, and shrugged one shoulder, accepting the small plate of biscuits and nibbling slowly and when he finished those, Martin offered up the tea. Sitting with him in companionable quiet, he sipped on his own cup. Nothing more was exchanged and when Jon finished he thanked Martin for the company and locked himself away.

Jon was at wit’s end. Nothing he tried seemed to improve anything and the few times he did speak with a doctor, he was sent away with the same, useless advice, or worse, told he was imagining things, making it up, having panic attacks even though he was familiar with those and this was not that.

Work was a nightmare made even more miserable with the overwhelming amount of paperwork, statements, boxes, misfiled folders and envelopes and items and Jon missed the easy camaraderie and understanding he’d had with Sasha and Tim. Maybe he should resign, try and salvage what little of the relationship they still had, or, or invite them out for dinner, his treat, but Elias would never let him quit and the very idea of entertaining exhausted him. A cuppa appeared at his elbow filled with something new, something floral and slightly sweet, accompanied, as always, by a few biscuits.

“That’s a lot of work, Jon.” He sipped, grateful, lifting an eyebrow in response.

“I knew it would be when I accepted this position.” Undeterred, Martin stumbled forward.

“Y’yeah, I mean, you would have. Of course. I just--” A breath. “I’ve finished with my other assignments, ready for round, uh. Well, another round!”

“Ah. Alright, I’ll bring something over when I pick up your translations.” Martin took back the cup, nodding enthusiastically, and Jon appreciated that it was business as usual, selecting a few he’d been putting off and making his way toward his assistants ignoring inquiring looks in favor of taking the chair Martin offered up to go over his expectations. Short, succinct. A few notes on one translation, advice to remember for next time, and Jon felt reasonably confident Martin could handle himself. It wasn’t until he’d gotten back to his office that Jon realized that was the first time he’d been offered a chair. It was becoming apparent that Martin was good at noticing the little things about them. A blush heated his cheeks and he tried to rub it away, feeling ridiculous that such a small act of kindness made him feel so seen.

Jon pushed forward, ignoring the warnings his body was trying to give him in favor of plowing through his work like he’d always done, and by the time he made it home, was on the verge of collapse. Hot tears of frustration stung at the corners of his eyes, spilling over when Jon allowed himself to feel it. More than anything, he was used to having control over himself, working when he wanted, burying himself in the research, devouring knowledge. Now he was at the whim of his physical form. Paying more attention to it than ever before and never knowing if he was going to wake up and have a good day or a bad day and it was maddening. Managing whatever it was without knowing what it was, was impossible with no rhyme or reason he could discern.

So in the absence of both, Jon kept shoving his way through how difficult it was because if he could just be normal through pretending everything was normal, then it would be.

Jon knew Tim was cross with him and managed to avoid him for most of the day, taking breaks here and there like he’d promised Martin he would do. But his luck, while it had been holding steady, had just run out and he found himself cornered in the breakroom.

“What do you think you’re on about?” Frustration had long since turned to outrage, boiling over.

“Tim, I. I’m not sure what you mean--”

“Damn it, Jon! You’ve already taken on a job you aren’t fit for! You can’t keep heaping your work onto Martin and then swanning off!”

“That’s.” He balled his hands into fists, nails biting crescent moons into his palms. How could he explain when even the doctors thought he was making it all up? Heat rushed through him, top to toe, flushing his face and he wavered, legs threatening to buckle, vision threatening to go dark. He was going to pass out a second time today if he didn’t sit down. But that would mean walking away from Tim, and he didn’t think the man would let him. At least not until he was done telling him off. Better to be silent. Try not to pay attention to how erratic the persistent beating caged behind fragile ribs had become.

“Why didn’t you say no?” Because he wanted to be useful. Because Elias made him feel like he was capable even if he wasn’t. “Why didn’t you just let Sasha have this?” Because he was an awful, selfish person. “God, Jon. Why did you drag us all down here with you?”

Because he was lonely.

Because they’d been friends. Once.

Rather than remind Tim that he was free to go at any time, that he and Sash hadn’t been forced or coerced into accepting positions here in the archives, Jon pressed his lips into a thin line.

“Well?!” Sharp, strident, Tim’s shout echoed around in the space between his own hurting, agonal breaths in his ears.

“I. I, I need to si’down…” wanted to lay down. Wanted to sleep, trembling with exhaustion, about to go down.

“What?” Lashes fluttering as he gripped the thread of consciousness with both hands, he barely registered Tim’s hands around his shoulders, guiding him into a chair and pushing his head down between his knees. “Jon?”

“M’okay…”

“You are clearly not.” A wide palm settled on his back, keeping him folded over. It was helping.

“S’mm...been. S’fine.” The floor came back into focus, all the little cracks and imperfections and Jon counted the streaks in the pattern in an attempt to ground himself but kept losing track of the number. Neither moved until Jon attempted to sit up, slowly, accepting Tim’s help.

“Jon?” He looked spooked, pale. “Please, what’s going on?” His hand settled in the crux of shoulder and neck, thumb ghosting along his clammy skin, and Jon allowed himself to find a morsel of comfort in the familiar gesture, the threat of tears closer than ever. So he reached for him.

“I don’t know.” And Tim pulled away as if burned, the frustration and anger rising in his face again, and Jon was bereft. “T’truly! I--”

“Why won’t you be honest with me? Don’t you trust me?” Standing, he took a step backwards, away from him, the hurt in him a palpable thing. “We’re supposed to be friends!”

Yes. They were friends. It was most likely why for the first time in a long while, the pain in his chest wasn’t a physical ache.

“Tim, I.” Fingers folded to fists to rest on his knees. But he was already gone.

“Jon!” Tentative, Martin lifted his chin. “Oh, oh.” Having been crying, Jon figured his eyes were red-rimmed and puffy and he didn’t bother attempting to hide the evidence. “Alright.” Martin went about making tea, chamomile, herbal and calming, placing it before him on the table with a chocolate digestive. “Drink this down and then go home. It’s half six.”

“Mm.”

“Sleep will help.”

“Mm.”

“I could speak to them for you. If--”

“No!” All but shouted. “No. That won’t be necessary, Martin.” Carefully he stood, paused. “Thank you.” And left.

Jon called off.

Called off again.

Again.

Apologized to Elias in a curt email requesting leave and was granted it.

He ignored his phone. His texts. The knock at the door and Martin’s voice behind it. He slept when he was tired and he was tired often and it was easier besides, to finally listen to the screaming of his body. It was after hours on his fifth day gone when Tim let himself in with the spare key to Jon’s flat.

“Hey.” Sheepish, he held up his hands in surrender, a bag of takeaway from Jon’s favorite place dangling from one. “Martin said you wouldn’t let him in.” Dressed in the most comfortable clothes he had, which were also the shabbiest, Jon glared at him from where he laid on the couch. “I was an arse.” Slowly, he sat up, making Tim wait on purpose, a powerful frown still aimed in his direction.

“You were.” He was aware he looked a mess, greasy hair pulled back in a sloppy bun, but he felt a sight better for the rest he’d gotten.

“Would you accept an apology?” Folding his arms, Jon leaned back into the cushions and fixed his stare at whatever rubbish was on the telly.

“Might do.” Silently, Tim scurried into the tiny kitchen and Jon listened to the familiar sounds of him rooting around for cutlery. It smelled delicious and comforting, a reminder of nights spent together laughing at nothing on this same couch and despite himself, Jon began to relax.

“I’m sorry.”

“Alright.” Tim’s face split in a wide, relieved grin, and he flopped down next to him, planting a loud kiss to his temple before urging him to eat. “Martin sent you here.”

“An angry Marto is not to be trifled with.” Through a mouthful of noodles, Tim chuffed in laughter. “Wouldn’t tell me anything, other than to stop being a prick.”

“He did not.”

“He did not. But it was more than implied!” He put his bowl on the low table in front of them, sitting forward with his hands dangling between his knees. “And he was right. I didn’t give you a fair shake and accused you of awful things. And I know you’re doing your best at this job.”

“Gertrude isn’t making it easy.”

“Neither is your health, I take it.” Jon set his own meal aside, curling into the padded arm.

“No. It isn’t.”

“And you don’t know what’s causing it?”

“I know some things that help. M’Martin has been invaluable.”

“Has he, now?”

“Leave off!”

“Okay, okay.” But he continued giggling as Jon felt his face go hot, muttering.

“He really has.” This time Tim pulled him gently into an embrace.

“Then Sash and I will just have to catch up.”

[chaeryybomb]

“8 hours and counting...” || l.dh

anon: “Can you do a best friends to lovers with nct haechan?”

a/n: here you go! thank you so much for requesting and I might’ve went a bit overboard with this,,,

pairing: lee haechan/lee donghyuck x gender neautral reader

genre: best friend to lovers!au, college!au, fluff, slight angst, haechan lowkey being a jerk, slow burnish?

featuring: mark lee, huang renjun, lee jeno, na jaemin and choi jongho

word count: 2.3k (oops)

summary: haechan misunderstood the situation thinking you had found a boyfriend and allows jealousy to take over and it is up to you, to slap— well, more like kiss him back into reality.

Haechan stared at the red iPhone in front of him. Well, more like he was glaring at the device. The reason was because he sent a text to his dear best friend, L/N Y/N, asking to meet up at the cafe because he was bored and he wanted to spend time with you.

He sent that text a few hours ago. 8 hours ago to be more precise, his brain taunted.

Sighing, he stood and paced around the room as endless scenarios ran through his head. Usually you would’ve answered his text within seconds after he sent it, the latest you ever took was 20 minutes! And that was because you were in a replacement class! Haechan knew your schedule like the back of his hand, of course he knew when you were free to text. And this was one of the moments, so where the hell was you?

Maybe you had a replacement class you forgot to mention. Haechan scratched their side of his head as he tried to remember if you had any classes cancelled in the past week. You didn’t. What if you were kidnapped?! His eyes widened at the thought. Oh no, should he make a police report? But you have to be missing for 24 hours before you’re “officially” a missing person and it’s only been 8 hours and 47 minutes... (Technically 8 hours felt like 8 years in Haechan’s book.)

Before he could think of even worse situations, Haechan’s phone rang out loud and the boy quickly dived to answer it. He groaned in disappointment once he read the contact name. It wasn’t you, just stupid Mark Lee. He swiped the accept button and raised the phone to his ear. “What?!” He asked annoyed.

“Woah, someone woke up on the wrong side of bed today,” Mark said on the other line.

“Hahaha, very funny Minhyung. What do you want?” Haechan replied with a sarcastic laugh.

“Jesus, I was going to ask if you want to go to the arcade today. Renjun said he’s going to beat your high score at Super Mario,” Mark explained.

At mention Renjun, Haechan could hear his voice yelling, “Be there or be square!” in the background.

Haechan swiped out of the call app and into his texts, his message was still on delivered. At least it was better than being left on read, right? But there was also a 80% chance of you being missing.

“Hello? Dude, you there?” Mark’s voice drew Haechan out his thoughts. Haechan shook his head, maybe the arcade would be a good distraction.

“Yeah, I’m in.”

The arcade was not a good distraction.

“Bro, are you okay?” Mark asked as he slung his arm over the younger one. “Renjun beat you in Super Mario. I repeat, you—“ he jabbed his finger at Haechan’s shoulder “—lost to Renjun!”

Renjun, who was sitting across from Mark, kicked his shin under the table. The older hissed in pain as he grabbed his leg. Mark glared at the boy in front of him, who’s now indulging himself in a conversation with Jeno, pretending like he didn’t stab Mark on the shin with the back of his heel.

Haechan mindlessly stirred his soda with the plastic straw, the whole time his mind was occupied with you, you and you. He made a mental note to blame you the next time he sees you. It’s stupid Y/N’s fault that he lost to Renjun in Super Mario! Ugh, now he has to play the damn game again just to get back his rightful place at the top of the leaderboard.

He looked at his phone the nth time since he entered the arcade. His lockscreen was empty from any notifications. No new messages or any missed calls. His wallpaper was a picture of him and you, who was on his back. It was a candid picture (courtesy of Jaemin) and the two of you were caught in the middle of laughing. He loves the picture, but right now it’s becoming a reminder that you have yet to reply to his message. It’s officially been 12 hours since his text. 12 hours and still nothing.

Suddenly, his ears perked up at the sound of someone’s laughter. Not just anyone, he knew whose laugh was that. It was yours. There’s no doubt that it was your laugh, he’s heard it his entire life. (And it’s also his favorite sound but he’d rather die than admit that.) Haechan sat up straighter and craned his neck, his eyes scanning the area for a certain person.

And there you were, standing in all your glory. His eyes lit up once he found you, but they immediately darkened in the next second. You weren't alone, beside you was another boy. A boy that he did not recognize. He saw you open your mouth to say something which resulted in the boy to ruffle your hair and sling his arm around your neck. The two walk past their table from the mini cafeteria and into the arcade. You didn’t even notice him.

Haechan’s fist tightened around the head of the chair as he watched you and the boy laugh together. Who the fuck was he and why the fuck was he with you? Mark seemed to notice where Haechan was staring and spoke up.

“Oh hey, isn’t that Y/N? HEY Y—MMPH!” Haechan swiftly moved to slap his hand over Mark’s mouth. He waited till you and the mystery boy disappeared into the aisle of arcade machines and finally slumped back into his seat.

“What the fuck was that for?!” Mark demanded and glared at the boy beside him.

Haechan rolled his eyes at the older and slumped back deeper into his seat, a pout on his lips. Mark paid no mind to him and just ruled it as one of his moments. While the other boys were laughing at Jeno choking on a french fry, a thousand thoughts were running through Haechan’s mind. The main one was who was the guy with you?

You couldn’t possibly have a boyfriend, right? No, you wouldn’t. You would’ve told him. That’s what best friends do, right? But that’s what he’s always going to be to you.

The best friend. He hates it.

Something’s wrong with Haechan. You’re sure of it. You stared at your phone in your hand as you reread his reply over and over again.

Haechan [8:33am]: hey you wanna go to the cafe for breakfast??

Haechan [8:35am]: hello???

Haechan [8:35am]: y/nnnnn

Haechan [8:36am]: don’t ignore meee :((

You [9:42pm]: omg im so so sorry

You [9:42pm]: im sorry hyuck i was at a family reunion :(((

You [9:43pm]: we can go to the cafe tomorrow if you’re still up for it!

Haechan [9:45pm]: i have plans tomorrow. maybe next time.

You [9:46pm]: alright..

First of all, Haechan would’ve popped off at you for replying to his texts so late and for ignoring him the whole day unintentionally. And secondly, he would’ve sent multiple texts at once, all caps and fighting emojis. Not just “i have plans tomorrow. maybe next time.”

“Who are you and what did you do to my best friend,” you mumbled to yourself. You sighed to yourself and placed your phone back on your desk. Maybe he’s really mad at you for ignoring him the whole day. In your defense, you were showing your cousin around town! You hadn’t checked your phone the entire day.

‘I should probably get him coffee as an apology tomorrow,’ you thought to yourself as you got ready for bed. Yeah, coffee sounds like a good plan.

You were wrong. It was not a good plan. It all started the next morning when you sent a good morning text to Haechan. He didn’t reply to you. You found it weird but you brushed it off. Maybe he was rushing off to school. He had a habit of waking up late anyways.

But the moment you saw him at campus, he immediately took off without giving you a chance to call out for him. Even weirder. Every corner you turn, there he is laughing with someone else but the moment you take your eyes off him for a second, he’s gone. You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched Haechan trying to subtly walk away from you. He can’t really be that mad at you, right?

It has been 4 days since you last saw Haechan and it basically confirmed your suspicions. He was avoiding you. But the question was why?

You tried to remember if you did anything to piss him off the past week but your brain gave you nothing. You tried asking his friends but they shrugged as they didn’t know the reason as well. You finally decide that you had enough of it and go to confront him.

So that’s how you ended up in front of Haechan’s apartment door. You rang the doorbell and waited, rocking back and forth on your heels. You heard shuffling coming from behind the door and it opened to reveal a just-woken-up-from-a-nap Haechan.

You smiled at him once he opened the door but Haechan’s eyes widened and he slammed the door shut. You blinked. What just happened? Regaining from the shock of his actions, you wasted no time and bent down to get the spare key under the welcome mat.

You quickly opened the door to his apartment and stepped in, ready to give Haechan a piece of your mind for his stupid antics. Haechan shrieked when he saw you came in.

You glared at him and jut her finger at him accusingly. “You’ve been avoiding me,” you said.

Haechan gulped and played it off. “No, I have not,” he said through gritted teeth and walked past you to the kitchen.

“Yes, yes you have! I texted you and you didn’t even reply back for days, Haechan,” you said, following him into the kitchen.

“Taste of your own medicine, then,” he mumbled under his breath. But it was loud enough for you to pick it up.

You raised a brow and scoffed. “Is this because I didn’t answer your texts the other day?”

Haechan turned his head to the side, not wanting to make eye contact. His lack of response told you that it was a yes.

“Haechan, you can’t be serious. I told you I was at a family reunion!”

You stared at him with your doe eyes widened. “Boyfriend? I don’t have a boyfriend, what are you talking about?”

“Are you sure you weren’t out with your boyfriend,” he blurted out. Haechan slapped his hand over his mouth, that wasn’t supposed to be said out loud.

“I saw you with another guy at the arcade that day,” he blurted out once again. He winced once those words left his mouth. Dang it Haechan, couldn’t he keep his mouth shut just this once?

You blinked for a few seconds before realization finally settled in. You couldn’t help but laugh at his accusation, causing Haechan to glare at you. “You mean Jongho? He’s my cousin,” you told him after you stopped laughing.

Oh.

Your cousin. The word echoed in his head. The "boyfriend" was just your cousin.

“Besides,” you added, leaning against the counter, “why would you care if I got a boyfriend anyway? What, do you like me or something?”

Haechan visibly stiffened at the last sentence. Oh boy, he hopes you didn’t notice him freeze. But of course you noticed it, you noticed every detail of him.

“Wait, do you actually like me?” You asked. You were internally panicking. Holy shit, does he like you? It’s too good to be true, right?

“Yeah,” he said quietly after a few seconds of silence. He was looking down at his feet. “Is that a bad thing?” He whispered, finally lifting his head up to meet your gaze.

‘Of course it isn't, because I like you too,’ you wanted to tell him. You had liked him the moment he introduced himself as your neighbour when they were 6 years old. But the way he flirts around other girls always gave you the thought that he didn’t feel the same.

You stayed silent too long for Haechan’s liking. ‘Oh no, they’re going to reject me,’ he thought. Before you could even open his mouth, he quickly added on, “It’s okay if you don’t like me though! I totally get it.”

“Haechan—“

“No, no it’s okay, Y/N. I understand. You don’t like me, I mean of course you wouldn’t. You probably see me as a brother and nothing more. So let’s just forget this ever happened and—“

He was too busy rambling to notice that you were advancing towards him. You got on your tiptoes and gave him a peck on his lips. Haechan immediately shut up, and froze on the spot. It was merely a peck but it was more than enough to make him stop working. His cheeks were now red at the sudden contact. You had an amused smile in your lips.

“D-Does this mean you like me too?” He stuttered out.

Instead of saying anything, you nodded and wrapped your hands around his neck, bringing him down for another kiss, this time it was longer. Haechan smiled into the kiss and wrapped his arms around your waist.

When you pulled away, you whispered, “I like you too, idiot.”

[bonus]

“Wait, so Jongho is that cousin who could break apples with his hand? While singing?!” Haechan repeated what you told him. You were now sitting on his lap, your back against his chest, his arms around you.

“Uh huh, he even broke a watermelon with his finger once,” you added. “And he’s like an older brother to me, so if you ever break my heart...”

Haechan visibly shuddered at the thought of Jongho breaking his neck. He hugged you tighter and buried his head into your neck, causing you to let out a laugh.

thank you for reading and requests are open!

[pseudoneiiric]

sorry to all 163 of my followers who didn’t follow me for l.ittle h.ope content but that’s all im thinking abt atm

as i go through my playthrough, i’m going to be documenting some of my headcanons under the cut here so i can organize them later because like, since there’s so much reincarnation going on, it’s hard to keep everything organized. obviously spoilers under the cut for lh (and if y’all want to play it i 100% recommend doing so and doing so without getting spoiled! just know that it’s a horror game that deals heavily in death and religion, with an important chunk of the game dedicated to puritan witch trials. jumpscares are also pretty frequent, so be careful if you do decide to play it! if you’ve got specific triggers but are interested in playing regardless, feel free to dm me asking about specific things cause this post isn’t really meant to detail all the content warnings for the game)

anyway! yeah! them!

A INCARNATIONS

anthony

anthony has a higher ability to feel his past lives. often feeling haunted by past decisions, he can also likely feel dizzy or hear ringing in his ears when he repeats his sins. he’s fearful of history repeating itself, even if he’s not entirely sure why he’s so certain that these events happened.

anthony has a vested interest in puritanism and witch trials, and is a walking encyclopedia on little hope’s history. had the clarkes survived, he would have wanted to pursue a history degree and renovate the town’s museum to become a strong tourist attraction.

anthony and tanya were adopted together and moved through the foster system together. because of this, he genuinely considers her to be his older sister and cares deeply about her. the two of them have a strong relationship and he often listens to tanya talk about her love life and helps her get ready for dates.

anthony is a very neat person and tends to be high-strung in some regards. he’s particular about how things are done and prefers to be independent so that he can do things in a way that feels proper. he has a strong sense of what is right and wrong, and will judge even those he loves if he feels they’re being immoral.

abraham

abraham has no reported family, a high degree of loyalty to reverend carver, and seems to be of high class. he likely was an orphan taken in and raised by the church, leading him to gain a high status within the clergy by the time he was 18.

abraham (if i remember correctly) is the only one of the puritans who both recognizes the figures from the future as apparitions and doesn’t seem too upset by them, lending credence to the idea that he’s used to seeing things that aren’t there. a) schizophrenia, but b) i like to believe that this granted him some credibility in the church for being able to see evil spirits sent by the devil.

andrew

as of november 8, andrew’s traits are the following: detached, anxious, compassionate (haven’t gotten it yet, just know it’s there), uncertain, fearful, practical, insecure, altruistic. fearful is his default locked trait, and the others are: anxious, uncertain, resolute, (??? if in low point, he says nothing when john says they must stop mary), and detached.

considering the ages of the students here (excepting angela) are 18, 20, and 22, and taylor took two years off to travel europe, it’s safe enough to say that this is a second-year creative writing course. andrew likely graduated high school a year early, and in order for him to still be 18 by the end of may, he must have been born anywhere from late may to early september. i vaguely headcanon him as a late august-early september baby because out of the summer zodiac signs, virgo fits him the best.

if andrew had a demon, it would have a halo of poppets circling its head and move as if it were a marionette. one hand would be clenched in a tight fist (holding a box of matches). if andrew is caught by the demon, it would kill him by staking him through the temple, fulfilling his destiny of dying from head trauma. the demon symbolizes the sin of self-sacrifice and putting others’ needs before your own, even at the expense of your health or well-being. if andrew participates in self-sabotaging actions or blindly follows orders he knows are wrong (alongside, of course, condemning mary), he will feel dizzy, nauseous, and hear a high-pitched ringing noise.

andrew took this creative writing course because he had taken a first-year course with john and had liked his teaching style.

M INCARNATIONS

megan

all m incarnations, like the a incarnations (anthony), have a higher degree of cognizance of their past lives, even if they cannot remember the past lives exactly. old grudges or affections may be instinctively carried over.

mary

mary tells carver, “i am a child, the devil has no time for me,” (information found in exchange for gaining the locked trait ‘baffled’ for daniel im sorry king) and you know what? good for her!

m...?

been thinking about a name for her. maggie, madison, melissa, molly, or madeleine seem like such good names. god. i’ll have to come up with a backstory and everything for her too, because, like, what is she doing there??? i need to know!!!

A INCARNATIONS... 2!

angela

as of november 8, angela’s traits are the following: abrasive, understanding, derisive, truthful, skeptical, indifferent, nervous. derisive is her default locked trait, and the others are: abrasive, aggressive, dismissive, angry, irritable, and resentful.

anne

something something she’s religious im tired i’ve written too much

T INCARNATIONS

taylor

as of november 8, taylor’s traits are the following: sensitive, witty, flirtatious, hopeful, deceitful, dismissive, headstrong, aggressive. deceitful is her default locked trait, and the others are: aggressive, uncertain, irritable, dismissive, resentful, derisive, and fearful.

tanya

tba

additional info:

as of november 8, john’s traits are the following: rational, overbearing, reckless, dismissive, resolute, irritable. dismissive is his default locked trait, and the others are: reckless, nervous, panicked, uncertain, indignant, dismissive, angry, aggressive, and fearful.

as of november 8, daniel’s traits are the following: defensive, amiable, arrogant, sympathetic, excited, reckless, baffled, heroic, resentful. arrogant is his default locked trait, and the others are: derisive, baffled (im so sorry mary i love you i promise i didn’t know), indecisive, aggressive, fearful, and reckless.

as of november 8, the lip rankings are as follows: vince having the best lips even after grief hitting him, anthony (rip to the clarke fire taking everything away from him, including his lips), then tanya, dennis, angela (with a missing top lip), and john in last place with a missing bottom lip. johngela real because their lips complete each other. i have gotta say, vince saying anthony didn’t lose everything when he lost not only his family but also his luscious lips? cancelled. writing his callout as we speak

since im working on height stuff, just wanted to add that will poulter’s height is reportedly 6′3″, alex ivanovici’s height is reportedly 6′0″, and ellen david’s height is reportedly 5′8″, which seems about right for their character models. daniel seems right around andrew’s height, after scouring some scenes and trying to assess who stands more upright and who’s taller, so i’d pin him as ... 6′4″? taylor’s height is awful cause in some shots she looks like she comes to andrew’s shoulder and in other shots she seems like she comes up past daniel’s ear? and in some shots she seems like she’s a bit taller than angela, so... i’ll probably put her at 5′9″.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S3:E1; Chapter One, Suzie, Do You Copy? - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Summer brings new jobs and budding romance. But the mood shifts when Dustin’s radio picks up a Russian broadcast, and Will senses something is wrong.

A/n: okay, so real quick I love mileven, its a cute ship and I think they're real sweet. But I think s3 did the right thing pointing out how codependent they got and it good for them to learn how to be their own person in order to be together. So this chapter kinda highlights the before and doesn't tiptoe lol. Also this chapter has a quick Will Pov cause a lot of you have responded positively to that but pfft god sorry if its cringey 😂 Then again, there's gonna be a point later on where im gonna need to use it so i guess this is practice lol

F/c = favorite candy F/s = favorite snack

||𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Y/n glances over Will's shoulders, the pair of them clumped in with Max and Lucas behind their lookout. The boy's sharp nose peeks out from the exit door that blended so well with the scarlet walls, his eyes darting carefully down the corridor assuring they wouldn't be seen. Finally, Mike nods, pushing the door open and striding through at a brisk pace his friends quickly match.

"All clear,"

As they had oh so many times before, they fell into line as they slipped down the hallway with a confidence they adapted in their summer ritual. As the first of them rounded the corner and into the theater, a bright display of colors from one of several light boxes caught Y/n's eye. She grinned knowingly when she saw the movie poster, recalling the trailer that had piqued her interest a few visits back.

At the subliminal reminder, she turned to her boyfriend. She captured his attention quickly as she hooked his arm in hers and gestured to the Back to the Future poster they were now passing.

"We still need to see that, you know," she remarked.

He smiled despite the slight quirk in his brow that betrayed his surprise.

"Really?" He asked, voice quieting as they entered the theater.

She quickly matched his look of surprise, and his hushed tone.

"Yeah! You don't want to?" Y/n whispered.

Quickly, he shook his head defensively as he bunched in with the others who now found themselves crowding the stairs. Mike was quickly scanning for an open seat, which left the four of them waiting behind him anxiously as he crept down the stairs. It was then Max and Lucas spotted two seats several rows down, and swiftly made their way to claim them before anyone else.

"No, no, I will. I mean, it looks pretty cool," Will quickly explained in a whisper, easily pulling his attention back from the other couple and towards Y/n with a shrug. "I just... Well, I heard that it was gonna bomb, is all."

Y/n's face scrunched up immediately in a confused frown Will always found adorable, creating a smile on his face as she looked taken aback.

"Really?" She asked, a little too loudly.

"Shh!" Came the venomous hisses of an older couple beside them, who looked to be in their forties.

Y/n looked at them, eyes flickering to the screen as it displayed nothing but another advertisement, before returning her attention back to them. She slipped them the weakest of fake smiles and shrugged her shoulders. Quickly, Y/n retreated down the stairs when she realized Mike and Will had started moving again.

Will was just ahead of her, throwing an amused glance over his shoulder as she quickly jogged the stairs to catch up with him.

"Shut up," she mumbled through a grin she fought to suppress.

Within moments she found herself packed in between Will and a young woman several years older than herself. Just in time, Y/n realized, as she looked to the gigantic screen that now displayed the words, OUR FEATURE PRESENTATION. Y/n found herself rolling her eyes when Mike strained to throw his whisper down to herself and Lucas - who luckily enough, was sitting just one row before them.

"See guys? We still made it,"

Max was directly in front of Y/n, leaving Lucas easy access over his shoulder to retaliate. "We missed the previews," A comment only one of his friends in the back row seemed to have caught. He briefly met her equally perturbed gaze and shared a quick eyeroll.

Max grinned back at Lucas, mischief written on her lightly freckled face.

"Still made it," she whispered, her smirk growing sly. "And before you died, too, good thing."

Lucas rolls his eyes once more, the words of his girlfriend painting a defeated smile on his lips as he shakes his head.

Y/n pulled her attention away from the screen briefly when she noticed Will had begun distributing the snacks he had smuggled in for everyone. Y/n helped slip Lucas his soda and Max her pack of Skittles, Mike all the while grabbing his KitKat bar. Y/n's eyes, for the most part, remained trained on the screen in fear of missing anything but they broke away briefly when Will retrieved her f/c.

Her eyes widened, glinting happily as she made grabby hands at the snack. "Ooh, gimme, gimme," she whispered, pulling a light chuckle from Will.

Y/n sent him a thankful look, and returned to the screen just as Will had retrieved the last of the snacks and zipped up his backpack. Y/n waited rather impatiently for a loud enough moment when she could open her candy without being heard and ultimately stared at.

The entire theater was suddenly bathed in white light, and the scene of a woman - Lori Cardille's character - was sat up against a white brick wall, head drooping between her knees. An eerie tune blasted through the speakers that brought a small chill down Y/n's spine.

Something about how the woman - trapped in this room - steadily rose to her feet and crept across the tiled floor. Already she was hooked, her unopened candy was no longer the only thing she was focused on. Slowly, the woman made her way to the opposite wall, captivating Y/n's attention as to how or why this woman was here in this room.

She didn't want to admit it to herself, but since her coming into possession of the Missing Experiment files, she had a learned a great deal. And given the information about her birth mother, and how she had been tested and studied it wasn't hard to put together how cruel life as a subject was in that lab. Or what her life would of looked like had it not been for her birth mother's efforts. It wasn't common, nor was it rare, but every so often Y/n found herself in a nightmare she felt she would never wake from. All of which included her in her life that almost was, as Number 009.

Locked away in a cold, blank room with no doors. Nothing to keep her company but the cold metal bed she was supplied, the searing pain of the 009 tattoo on her left inner wrist that never went away, and the reminder she would be here all her life. Being poked and prodded and twisted into something she could never come undone from.

And it chilled Y/n to the very bone how much this room on the screen reminded her of the prison from her nightmares. And yet, she finds herself groaning with the rest of the audience as the screen freezes on the woman's entranced gaze before sliding out to black along with the rest of Starcourt.

"Come on!" Came several voices, many of whom belonged to her friends.

All across the mall, section by section, the neon disappeared, leaving Hawkins residents in disgruntled confusion and darkness.

Erica, who still sat amongst her friends in the main lounge, wore a perplexed expression, her voice laced with annoyance. "The hell?"

Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream parlor was among the last cluster to fall victim to the power outage, the confusion spreading to the two young employees behind the counter.

"That's weird," Steve remarked, stepping away from the counter.

Robin broke from her small daze brought on by the sudden blackout that had clearly overtaken the mall to see her coworker heading for the light switch. Steve put on an expression of befuddlement while Robin wore one that screamed, 'please don't do what I think you're about to do'. And yet, she watched in depressed defeat as he began flipping the light switch on and off despite her silent pleas. Her gaze was flat and unimpressed, his childish attempt was yet another blow to her already lacking morale.

"That isn't gonna work, dingus," she says flatly.

He paused, glancing up at the ceiling and back to her with a challenging look in his eye.

"Oh, really?"

Steve mercilessly attacks the light switch, flipping it on and off as fast as he can while staring Robin dead in the eye. And yet, nothing came of it but the rhythmic click of the switch flipping on and off.

Unbeknownst to the bewildered mall-goers, they were but the first of Hawkins to be shrouded in darkness. A willful, and unrelenting force swept over Hawkins. A force all too familiar with the small town, and unknowingly, a very force engraved in the town itself. Pumping through its veins and slowly but surely staining the town like a virus unseen. A force that was the town, and in a way, always had been.

And on this night, the 28th of June 1985, the force finally broke free from the shadows and begun to take a familiar shape.

As if bending to It's own wishes of discretion; Starcourt - the first of many - could feel Hawkins breathing it back to life as it also did for the dark force at work deep in the bowels of Brimborn Steelworks.

Light by light, room by room, Starcourt came back alive as if nothing had happened. The children's merry-go-round continued, the Indiana Flyer finished its jolly tune as did the joyous child riding its back and a certain employee in a tacky sailor's costume found his chest had filled with pride.

A triumphant look overtook Steve and he gestured grandly. "Let there be light."

Robin watched as he returned to the counter, trying her best to suppress an eye roll. And a smile.

The blackened screen flickered to life, resuming the woman's troubled gaze on the calendar that taunted her. The audience erupted in cheers, thankful their money hadn't been wasted and that their experience could continue. Y/n released a relieved chuckle, the picture before her quickly overturning the lurking thoughts of her nightmares and any coincidence of the blackout had with them. Eagerly, she dug her fingers into the pack of candy she had just opened, her eyes flickering to Will.

Her relief was short-lived when she she saw the expression on his face. He was there, but he wasn't at all happy, nor content, and he was but the farthest thing from relieved. What she couldn't see—what she didn't realize—was in these few crucial moments he sat with a glazed over stare, and a hand reaching for the back of his neck was the deep and profound feeling of foreboding that rooted deep inside him.

And not unlike only months short of a year prior, when he felt himself ensnared in the terror and icy grip of the monster that lurked in shadows only he could see, Will Byers could feel his skin tightening painfully as goosebumps gripped his neck. It was a chill he hoped he'd never feel again, a chill that had nearly destroyed him and his family and friends. And Y/n. The passionate, fiery, hatred for the girl was the only thing about this icy monster that burned brighter than the horrifying memories it left with him.

《•••》

Will was panting heavily, but he slowly turned around coming face to face with the monster. It towered over the school, looking directly at Will.

It got closer. It was swooping in like vulture but Will didn't give in.

The monster bellowed, and one large tentacle began twirling down onto the ground, the size of a small tornado. The swirling gust of black fog engulfed Will.

He stood frozen, now trapped in the swirling fog. Several black tendrils spawned from the mass and invaded Will and he could feel the evil presence as it possessed his body and settled in his very soul.

He felt every essence of warmth cease to be, and all that existed was icy darkness.

•••

"You're... gonna lose... him!" The words are spit from Will's mouth, a struggle through the growing pain.

Another painful scream erupted as the fire beneath Hawkins spread, but he fights it as much as he can. He was almost free. But most importantly, he couldn't let them win. Not with her on their side.

His screams vibrate with his body before his small frame shrinks in on itself like a dead spider. He straightens in seconds, his head, hands, and feet now glued to the bed as he bends in one final arc, his chest rising to the heavens. Will's mouth opens in another scream and a billowing cloud of inky black smoke escapes. It twists and unravels out from between his lips like a pitch-black tornado.

《•••》

"Will?"

Much like that night, a soothing and infectious warmth replaces the cold and unforgiving ice in his veins as Y/n lays a gentle hand Will. Startled, his head is ripped to her direction, arm already slipping away from his neck as she stares at him in worry. She recognized the look in his eyes all too well, and immediately she knew something was amiss.

"Will, what is it?"

Will's hand finally fell to the arm rest he shared with Y/n, and he gently took her hand as if to reassure her. Though deep down, they both knew he needed the comfort far more in this moment. He put everything into her touch, allowing her natural warmth to subdue the chill in his bones as he mentally packed away the crazy thought that he didn't want to be true into the farthest corners of his mind.

And as he met her gaze, her worried eyes now boring into his as she held his hand with a firm grip that said she was never letting go, he found a smile on his face. All too easily the words came to him, the words spoken to her in hushed whispers that he clung to tighter than her. Words he desperately needed to believe were true, words that were already lying to the demanding feeling in his gut that screamed for his attention.

"Nothing," he says, already succumbing to the temptation of a sugar-coated lie that was far more palatable than the bitter truth. "Everything's fine,"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Soft sunlight spilled through the open blinds in the Henderson house, illuminating the golden wallpaper and shag carpet that lined its insides. Muted footsteps rushed through the house and towards the front door, a second pair following closely on its heels.

"Mom, remember, he HAS to think-"

"-HAS to think everyone forgot, I know, Pumpkin, I know."

Claudia Henderson turns to face her daughter when she reaches the door, a worn smile playing her lips as she begins plucking away stray cat hairs off her daughter's shoulder as she talks.

"I think it's very sweet you want to surprise your brother," she beams, breaking away to fish in her purse for her keys. "But please don't forget, your brother is easily scared these days, heaven knows why, so just he careful alright? Nothing too big?"

Y/n bit her tongue, knowing exactly why Dustin had grown more jumpy—as had she, and her friends—but she neglected to share that information with her mother. When she finally retrieves her keys, she pauses, sending another sweet and prideful smile at her only daughter. With her free hand she gives Y/n a small stroke of the cheek, and an almost pinch making Y/n frown and pull away.

"Mom!"

"Sorry, sorry!" She answers, pulling away and opening the door. "I'm just so proud of my honey bear!"

Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Mom." She pleads.

"I'll be back soon, I love you, and don't forget to feed Tews, okay?"

"I won't, don't worry," Y/n sighed again, ready to close the door. "I love you too,"

Claudia was more than halfway out of the door, her head poking in as she backed out. A habit she often had when departing from her children. She had nearly closed the door, when her head popped back in as if she had forgotten the most important thing.

"Oh, and say hi to Will for me, honey!"

Y/n's head was thrown back in an embarrassed groan as Claudia shut the door.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Shockingly enough, Mike was one of the first of her friends to arrive. Clinging tightly to his side, one of Y/n's favorite people; El Hopper.

"Hey guys, you made it!"

But the two seemed partially oblivious to her welcome, the pair were lost in each other and laughing at something Y/n was completely lost on. Her face fell a bit, though she didn't know why, this wasn't exactly new behavior for them.

"Guys?"

El was the first to break away from their shared gaze, a light giggle still leaving her throat when she locked eyes with Y/n. Her smile brightened and she stepped forward letting go of Mike and enveloped her friend in a hug.

Y/n graciously accepted after recovering from the initial shock. Y/n warmed at the gesture, holding her best friend tight against her chest and she could feel El's hair tickling her nose. El broke apart, her expression similar to Y/n's as she met her eyes. El's cheeks where dusted pink, her now shoulder length hair frizzy from the summer heat as she wore a toothy grin for Y/n.

"I'm glad you could make it, El." She said, opening the door for her friends.

El nodded, casting a brief glance over her shoulder to grab Mike's hand. "Me too," she grinned, stepping inside.

"I was worried Hopper might not want you over," Y/n finished.

El shook her head again as her and Mike now stood in the entrance, Y/n closing the door after them. Immediately, the pair began discarding their shoes and Y/n seemed to miss the perturbed look flicker across Mike's face at what El said next.

"No, he likes it when I see you,"

Y/n nodded with relief and led her friends into the kitchen.

She opened the fridge, giving the shelf a quick glance before grabbing a blue pitcher of filtered water.

"Do you guys want anything to eat or drink?"

Mike looked down at El who shook her head and then back to Y/n. "Nah, we're good. We ate before we came."

'Oh' Y/n mouthed, closing the fridge and grabbing a glass from the cupboard. She tried to busy herself with the uneven stream of water diving into her glass from the pitcher and off of the giggly bubble Mike and El were being reabsorbed into as they whispered between one another. Y/n wished more than anything someone else would ring the doorbell and show up already, anybody. Just to get her out of the awkward tension Mike and El left her in as their third wheel.

No such luck was granted to her, no matter how many times she glanced at the door and willing a knock as she drank from her glass.

A soft meow answered her silent plea and while it wasn't Max, Lucas or even Will that had came to her rescue, she supposed the feline was just as good. Eagerly, Y/n set aside her water and slipped into the living room to see her mother's Siamese cat trotting along the carpet.

"Hey Toonces," Y/n greeted, using her own special nickname for the cat.

Y/n stopped in her tracks, nearly forgetting the bag of cat food on the counter. She quickly side steps the oblivious couple as she grabs the small cup and scoops a small portion of cat food, intentionally grabbing Mike and El's attention over her shoulder.

"So, I got a banner we could all decorate. We can get started on that?"

As expected, the two did not break from their spell as quickly as Y/n would have hoped. It took the obnoxious avalanche of cat foot pouring into the metal food dish to break their attention and look to their friend. She stood across the room with a now empty cup in her hand, a cat running to her feet as she looked at them through slightly squinted eyes and a tight lipped smile. They smiled sheepishly at her, and she asked again trying to stifle her growing irritation.

"Can you guys help me with the Welcome Home banner? It'll be lame if it comes from just me. It's supposed to be a surprise from all of us, anyway,"

Mike shrugs to showcase his complete indifference, looking down at El again who nods. She smiles back at Y/n, happy with the idea and resting her head back on Mike's arm as Y/n nods.

"Great, thanks." She breathes, laxing her shoulders.

Y/n returns the cup to the counter and disappears briefly down the hallway before reappearing with a large seemingly empty banner.

"I already outlined everything, so all we need to do is color it in, brighten it up a bit," she explains quickly, maneuvering through the living room as she retrieves a cup of markers from a shelf nearby. "I left a lot of space for each of us to add something, if you-"

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK-

"Lucas-" came a muffled hiss on the other side of the front door.

KNOCK KNOCK

"Lucas," the voice was now trying to smother a laugh.

'Oh, thank god' Y/n thinks.

||𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

I don't remember the ride to Y/n's taking this long. Maybe it feels this way cause I'm anxious to see her.

It's probably nothing, but whatever I felt last night before the black out...

I'm getting nauseous just thinking about it, and it feels like something is holding on to my lungs and not letting me breathe.

Y/n, I remind myself. You're gonna be with Y/n and all your friends. Today's going to be fun.

The thought alone made me feel loads better, and it reminded me that I had a new idea for Y/C/N last night when I got home. Defeating the Juju Zombies would level up her character and I can give her a spell I think she'd love...

Storm of Vengeance. It's a higher level druid spell that would allow her to create small storm clouds around her. I think she'll like it considering how much she enjoys her earth spells. And, well, in a way it reminded me of her and what she did last year. I mean, she caused an earthquake all over Hawkins and the news even reported an unusual spike in temperature that they worried might cause a storm. It never did, but it was still the coolest thing I've ever seen in my life.

She doesn't love to go into detail about that night. The night she saved me. And I don't blame her at all, I don't either. My chest actually hurts every time I think about how I attacked Y/n. I know it wasn't me, but I still haven't forgiven myself for not being able to stop him.

Regardless, what she did was beyond incredible and what she's been working at all summer has been paying off. I'm really proud of her. I'm grinning like an idiot, I realize cause my cheeks are hurting but I can't seem to care.

I can see Y/n and Dustin's house creep into view at the end of the long stretch of street and I grow more excited by the minute. Mom's words from earlier pop into my head and I can feel my ears burning all over again.

"They're in love, Will," she said, referring to Jonathan and Nancy who had been sneaking around, to which I scoffed. She took a seat beside me as she continued. "I'm surprised at you."

I look up from my stack of pancakes that was nearly gone, and I sent her a funny look. She smiled from ear to ear and looked briefly to her breakfast before looking back at me.

"Speaking of,"

Oh no.

"Mom-"

She took a sip of her coffee, raising her eyebrows in a way that suggested she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Aren't you going to Y/n's?"

"MoM!" I groaned, standing up from the table.

I marched over to the sink, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing me flustered.

"What?"

She did know exactly what she was doing, and she was relentless. I soaked my plate and headed for the door, hardly giving her a glance.

"Bye, Mom," I grumbled.

I can hear her evil smirk in her voice just before I shut the door.

"Bye, sweetie~!"

I scoff when I realize how she is still able to get to me, and I quickly shake it off. My bike glides into their driveway and I quickly dismount and make sure to park it somewhere out of the way of Mrs. Henderson's car before it got back. I quickly rethink it, and bring it around back where Dustin won't be able to spot it. The others had the same idea, it would seem as I quickly found where they had stashed their bikes.

I rushed to the front door, and I could already hear several muffled voices and footsteps inside. Right as I raise my right hand to knock, the door swings open.

There standing in the doorway, completely breathless and grinning widely is Y/n. I'm grinning again, and just before I can even manage a "hello" she grabs my wrist and pulls me inside, and into a quick kiss. I feel her smiling and when I broke apart she said quietly enough for me to hear.

"I'm glad you're here."

"Clearly," Lucas said, popping a piece of gum into his mouth as he passed behind her without a single glance and into the living room.

Y/n whirled around to send a playful glare over her shoulder. I watched, laughing as she stuck her tongue out at him, and he did the same. She turned back to me, visibly relaxing a great deal and I stepped further inside. I felt her let go of my wrist and she closed the door behind me before gesturing to the coffee table everyone was gathered around. The large banner was at the center of the coffee table taking up most of its surface; the one Y/n mentioned to me the other night in Castle Byers. By the looks of it, it was nearly finished and I felt a pang of guilt I couldn't get here earlier to help.

El was the first to look up at us, and sent a polite smile to me and Y/n before returning to her coloring beside Mike. Mike and Max where quietly bickering over a marker by the looks of it and Lucas was retuning to his seat on the edge of the couch just beside Max.

"Want something to drink, or maybe nibble on?" Y/n asked me.

I look to her, ready to decline her usual offer when I noticed the look in her eye that was pulling me towards the kitchen. I nodded, suddenly deciding a refreshment didn't sound so terrible.

I followed her into the kitchen and out of earshot of the others. She quickly got her hands on some f/c and I helped myself to some Slice Soda from the fridge. The can opened with a hiss just as she hoisted herself up on the counter and took a bite of her food.

Through a mouthful of the snack, her left cheek all puffed up in a way that made me smile and she spoke in a voice low enough she wouldn't be overheard.

"I'm so glad you made it here when you did." Y/n said to me, examining her snack, legs dangling of the counter and swinging lightly back and forth. "They were starting to drive me crazy."

I took a sip of the soda, swallowing the cloud of fizz that buzzed on my tongue. "They couldn't have been that bad,"

I looked back up from my drink to be met with the trademark Y/n Henderson deadpan glare and I laughed again.

Y/n's always making me laugh, and I realize I don't ever want that to stop.

Soon, she's smiling with me as she takes another bite, her eyes wandering to our group of friends gathered in her living room. Y/n looked back at me and sighed.

"I love them all, I really do," she shook her head and let out a small laugh that stopped my heart a little. "But, Jesus, they're so much sometimes."

I let out a small laugh through my nose, nodding as I take another swig of my drink and she continues.

"Max and Mike won't stop arguing about anything that's two feet in front of them," she frowned with a small smile. "Lucas and El are actually spending some more time together, its pretty nice. But other than that, I'm lucky to get a word in edgewise with anyone. You know the group, everyone's got their own ideas, and no one really knows how to listen,"

It's quiet for a moment as we reflect—aside from Lucas whose voice stood out among the others as he cursed at something he messed up on on the banner.

"You excited to see Dustin, again?" I ask finally.

Y/n nodded, popping another piece of food into her mouth before swallowing it. "Yeah, definitely. Mom's been missing him a lot. I can tell. She's been mothering me a whole lot more lately."

A small picture of Mrs. Henderson smothering her kids was not hard to conjure, and it made me chuckle.

"Mm! Just the other day," She hummed, yet again with small mouthful and a spot of food she was oblivious to on the corner of her mouth. "When I went to Max's—"

I nodded showing I was listening, though I tried very heard to stifle the grin creeping up at how cute she looked and I stepped forward to wipe the bit of food off of her mouth.

"a place she knows I go all the time—" she stops her rant abruptly as I wipe her chin and mouth with the corner of my wrist and palm, blinking back in surprise before breathing a small laugh. "oh, thanks. Anyways, she knows I go there all the time, hell, how much time do we even spend here anyway? And suddenly it's twenty questions; where I'm going, when I'll be back, do Max's parents know I'm coming?"

"And now, on top of it all, she won't stop asking me stuff I don't even know how to answer. Like 'how did you and El meet, you two seem really really connected? It's so sweet!'"

She asked, imitating her mother.

"and, 'Y/n, how your sheets keep getting burned in the dryer, I have no idea!' Like, I don't know how I'm supposed to tell her about the friends I made during the almost apocalypse or the fact that I keep burning my sheets every time I have a bad dream. I mean, I can't keep lying to her, but I can't tell her the truth either."

I leaned back against the counter again, growing thoughtful. My heart goes out to her, and I feel horrible I can't really do anything. But I know how much having Max and El around has helped her, she's never really said it out loud but I can tell she's been feeling more and more alienated the older we all get. Not completely, but things are changing. Regardless, I'm glad she has them.

"I'm sorry," I say, and she shrugs, discarding the remnants of her snack on the counter before leaning back on her propped up arms. "Well, hopefully Dustin being back will restore the natural balance of things."

Y/n nodded, a confident smile on her face. "I'm thinking it will, it's what usually happens. She always gets pretty antsy when one us is away for a long time and this isn't Dustin's first time at camp either, don't forget."

Suddenly, her face lights up and she looks to me growing excited. "Oh! I almost forgot. Max had a great idea for when he gets here."

"Oh yeah?" I ask, her infectious smile spreading to my face.

Y/n nods, and I can see the excitement growing in her eyes.

"Yeah, so, we'll all hide, like we originally planned. But," she jumps of the counter, quickly opening the fridge and grabbing a small piece of lettuce before leading me through the living room. "El will draw him out, probably out into the back living room cause we'll have plenty of space to hide in here."

We pass through the living room, and down into the hall all the way into Dustin's room.

Y/n walks over to Yurtle's tank, and slides the top hatch open. She stops talking briefly, like a reflex a small grin lighting up her face and scrunching up her nose as she feeds the turtle the bit of lettuce. Again, I find myself smiling widely out of habit, my chest growing warm just from being around her.

Y/n quickly pulls herself back to reality and closes the top back up, and crosses the room where a variety of Dustin's old toys stand in a clutter in his closet.

With a proud and elated grin, she gestures to them waiting for my reaction.

"What?" I laugh.

"The plan! These are all the toys of Dustin's that can move, I had to dig through some closets but I found enough. El's gonna make them come to life—assuming we're lucky enough to get him to sulk in his room, but I'm not too worried about that. If I know him at all, he will. He'll follow them out to the lounge, and that's when we'll surprise him. I was also thinking I could mess with him if I can, make the room shake a little or something, I'm not sure yet,"

I can't help but picture the look on Dustin's face when stuff around the room begins to shake. I suddenly couldn't wait for him to get back, which is a bit surprising considering how much grief he gives me and Y/n.

She quirks her brow, a mischievous look spreading across her face. "Well, what do you think?"

"It's perfect, I-"

"Code red! Code Red!" Came a strained shout from across the hall.

Thunderous and forceful footsteps pound into the carpet as they make their way down the hall, stopping the words in my throat. We both rip our heads to the open door to see Lucas leaning into the doorway panting and wide eyed as he looks between the both of us.

"He's here!"

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"SARS (Special Anti Robbery Squad) is a branch of the Nigeria Police Force. SARS officers carry guns but do not wear Nigerian police uniforms or badges Since the creation of SARS, they have been known for engaging in illegal acts and torturing the citizens of Nigeria. They ask for bribes, harass citizens and even kill them. Nigerians are currently protesting on the streets against the blatant disregard for their rights."

Please help and do what you can, educate yourselves, spread information and bring awareness to this issue.

BELOW IS A LINK IN THE COMMENTS TO A MASTERLIST OF LINKS TO HELP #endSARS

[link]

Therapy Resources and Tips for People of Color

[link]

A Thread of Small Black Businesses That Were Destroyed That You Can Donate To To Help Rebuild

[link]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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[what-the--curtains]

Alliance

Chapter 6 – The Extraction

(Mando x f!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: The auction leads you to the child but the empire’s hot on your tail. With all hope lost you make a choice.

Notes: None (feel free to interact im unemployed and bored)!!!

Tw: (very brief) mentions of drugs/sex/alcohol/addiction, swearing

Words: 3.9 k

Tagged: @crazycookiecrumbles

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walk through the damp street, you don’t know what this dress is made of but the dirt and grime caused by the recent rain seemed to simply bounce off it. The streets were jam-packed, somehow even busier than they were the night prior and as the two of you make your way towards the auction hall Din’s visor scans the crowd, making sure nothing seems out of place. He takes care to never be more than a few inches away from you, convincing himself it's in order to maintain appearances. After all he knew you were more than capable of handling yourself, and why else would he feel the need to be so close to you.

“You lost beautiful?” A youthful looking Falleen asks as she appears out of the shadows

“No.” Din replies, making himself visible at your side when she moves into the light.

“Well I’m sure you're very beautiful under that armour Mando, but I was talking to your friend here.The names Isi and I make a living helping people around the city” Din’s about to respond again when you interject.

“Actually Isi we do seem to have gotten ourselves a bit lost, we're here for the auction.”

“I’ve heard of it,” she says, staring down at her manicure. You look up at Din motioning for him to pay her which he does begrudgingly. Taking the credits she leads you through the city, stopping outside a building covered completely in reflective mirrors.

“Best of luck” Isi, says offering you her hand

“Thank you, for your discretion” taking it you slide her a few more credits and she leans back against the wall of the building watching as the two of you enter. Two men in tailored suits open the inner doors granting you access to a small closed off foyer, also covered in the one way glass. You hand your invitation to the man on the right, parting your lips ever so slightly and gaze up at him batting your eyelids ever so slightly. In your experience a touch of flirting went a long way, especially when it came to moving through security.

He smiles and looks from you, up to the Mandalorian then back down. Turning his head to look at his partner he chuckles slightly.

“He your boyfriend, or something?”

“Bodyguard” you emphasize.

“Makes sense” he murmurs loud enough for the two of you to hear.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the modulated voice asks obviously aggravated.

“Never mind him, he’s just sensitive about the... you know ” you mime the outline of a helmet. The guard nods and lets you pass through placing his hand on the small of your back as you do causing you to cringe internally. Nothing worse than a stranger's hand where you didn’t want it. You glare back at the Mandalorian hoping your eyes would convey a message of ‘be cool’. A task he was about to accomplish when the second guard places a firm hand on his arm.“Leave the blaster Mando, there’s no weapons allowed.”

“He has no weapons” you interject, de-escalating the scene that was about to play out caused by the tremendous amount of male energy that was currently taking up the entire room.

“You’re right sorry ma’am, enjoy your evening” he says letting go of the Mandalorians arm allowing him to pass.

“Way to keep your cool, let’s try and get through the night without creating a scene” you say, slightly annoyed by whatever the hell he thought that display was going to achieve. Your anger disappears as you turn to an enormous room filled with people dressed to the nines in the finest the galaxy had to offer. Chandeliers dripping in diamonds hung down from the high ceilings illuminating the room like a sky full of stars and casting a rose gold hue across the occupants moving about the ballroom floor which seemed to sparkle underneath the high heels.

Servers moved seamlessly throughout the crowd; they were all dressed in lavish costumes, depicting various fashions from across space and time. The trays they carry are filled with multicolor foods and gem-coloured drinks. You’d never seen anything so opulent in your entire life. You’d noticed that servers would pair off with guests and disappear returning later with a look that could only be chalked up to exceptional sex or spice, both of which resulted in a similar glazed over and dewy look. A Darthomorian in a low cut red dress approaches you offering you a drink, you smile and thank them.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” The modulator speaks up, as you bring the drink to your lips.

“Why? I might as well enjoy the lifestyles of the rich and dangerous while I’m here” you snap, apparently you were still upset at him.

“It has love wallop in it, makes the drinker more suggestible to certain propositions usually sent over by someone who wants to.” His voice trails off.

“Ew” you say pulling a face before dumping it in a nearby plant. “Guess I’m safer going to the bar.” You swirl your new, drug free, drink around and rest your elbows down on a nearby table, hoping the auction would begin shortly.

“How did you know what was in that drink.” You ask in an attempt to help pass the time.

“They show up at these kinds of things, so does spice and other illegal substances.”

“Once again how do you know about this? You spent a lot of time around illegal substances? I didn’t think it would be your scene.” you say taking a sip of the ruby coloured drink you had ordered.

“I’ve brought a lot of dealers over the years. It also crossed my path in my...” He pauses before continuing reluctantly “ wilder days.”

“Wilder days hey? Love to hear about those sometimes. You sample the product?” you probe, he gives you an unmistakable look of disappointment “Maybe you should, might help chill you out a bit.” You joke.

“That would go against my creed and fundamental belief system. Spice is...”

“Highly addictive, ya I know , it was a joke.” You say shaking your head, why did he have to be so high and mighty all the time.

“You’ve had it?” he seems surprised by this news, you hoped it wouldn’t change his opinion of you, the two of you had been getting on pretty well of late and you’d hate to jeopardize that.

“You gonna arrest me?” you joke nervously, hoping he didn’t notice how much his response mattered to you.

“No, just… how the hell did you stop? Are you okay to even be here, it's everywhere” was it disappointment or concern you picked up in his voice, you couldn’t quite discern between the two.

“I’ll be fine just tell me if it’s in anything I’m about to put into my body. And knock me out if you see me going for it” Diverting from the conversation you lift up a piece of food and show it to the Mandalorian who lets you know it’s safe to eat.

“Holy shit this is good!” you exclaim, looking around for where the waitress had gone

“Can you feel him?.” Din asks drawing your attention back to the reason why you were here in the first place.

“Too many people, I’ve already disrupted the force once I don’t want to do it again so quickly someone might notice. We’ll have to wait for the first item and follow whoever brings it out.” Just then a woman in a slinky red dress appears with some kind of an egg on a pillow and steps up onto the stage where an Ishi Tib drones out the rules and regulations for bidding.

“Is that an Kadri’Ra egg.” you ask in amazement.

“Looks like it”

“I thought they were extinct” you say still in awe

“Guess not” he replies, his shortness had become increasingly apparent over the course of the evening.

“We’ll get the kid soon, don’t worry, he has to be here.” You reassure, looking up at him causing him to look away. As the woman passes back through the crowd the two of you turn in tandem and follow her until you reach the back of the room. You stop and place your back against the wall, craning your neck you look to see which hallway the woman had disappeared down. You turn back quickly as another woman in similar garb appears out the largest of the hallways, carrying a cape made from an ice dragon pelt. As she moves towards the stage the two of you enter where she had exited. You move through the wide hallway until you reach the end, where a large metal door prevents you from moving any further.

“Should have about 15 minutes before the next one comes out.” You say stopping a few feet from the door. “you think anyone’s in...” you're almost done your sentence when you hear footsteps approaching from behind you.

Before you can make sense of what's happening the Mandalorian has pulled you into a thin hallway off shoot by the nook of your elbow. You’re now face to face with his chest and suddenly very aware of how tall he was.

“Where’s the other half of the item, seriously were two in and I’m looking like a fool up there!” an Arkanian, who you assume must be the collector and the host of the party, exclaims. You see them do a double take to where you're currently hiding, and watch as they begin to move towards the hallway.

“Can you pick me up?” you whisper urgently,

“Yes, but…”

“do it now” he complies with your order, as he does you wrap your legs around the armour covering his hips and prop your back against the wall, draping your arms loosely over his shoulders before burying your head in the part of his neck bare from armour, hoping that the compromising position would be enough to deter the collector rom asking any question. Out of the corner of your eye you watch as the presenter takes note of the two of you. Raising their eyebrows they turn and move back to the door.

“Yes that’s it, get it out there now so the bidding can begin, gods it’s hard to find good help these days.” they exclaim turning and following behind the presenter with the newly acquired artifact. You let out a sigh of relief removing your face from his neck quickly realizing that your nose is just millimetres away from his helmet.

“You can put me down now” you whisper breathlessly, for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. You take note of the slight hesitation that precedes him dropping you. Gathering yourself you exit the hallway and reposition yourself in front of the large metal door. You can’t see a panel on it or a key slot, it must only be accessible from the inside looking up, you spot a window.

“Give me a boost” you say, and he obliges. You lift the hem of your outfit and step onto his interlocked hands which he uses to push you up enabling you to reach the ledge. Pulling yourself up you roll through the window and drop down onto the rooms floor alerting the person in charge of handing out the auction items. You knock him out and swipe his key card using it to open the door for Din.

“This way” you say, dragging the handler's body over to a nearby post and tying him to it. Standing up you turn to see hundreds of items up for auction varying from Millaflower to a juvenile varactyl.

“Do you see him?” you ask, picking up a vial of what you recognized as death stick placing it back down when you hear him respond.

“No” you think you hear his voice break. “Wait.” he says, walking up to another, smaller closed off room placing a gloved hand on the door. He draws his blaster aiming for the lock. You lower his hand hoping to prevent a beam bouncing around the room subsequently giving you away. You lift up the key card you’d swiped from the guy in the room and use it to open up the door. He moves towards the oval container floating in the middle of the room and drops down to one knee as you watch tentatively from the door. Pushing a button the oval opens up and a tiny green three fingered hand reaches up for him. You hear a slight gurgle as the second hand comes up making a grabbing motion. Din picks up what has to be the most adorable creature you’ve ever seen.

“Told you I’d get you back didn’t I” he chuckles, you can hear the smile in voice as he hands the kid the small silver ball. You approach cautiously until you're standing beside him.

“Well fair enough I get why you traded me in for him” you say offering the child your finger which he grabs happily, looking up at you.

“ You two know each other or something?” He asks, his helmet staring up at you.

“Must be a force thing” you say, smiling down at the little critter.

“We have to go” you say, closing the egg hoping it would buy enough time to make a swift exit. With the child wrapped neatly under his arm the two of you move swiftly through the back alleys in darkness.

“Well that went better than I…” almost as if on cue, your speech is interrupted by the sound of blasters ricocheting off the ship's metal exterior. He hands you the child and rushes up to the cockpit to prepare for take-off.

“Brace yourself” he shouts down and you grab onto the overhanging bars with one hand and secure the child with your other, pressing your thigh against a beam in an attempt to stabilize yourself. As the ship lifts off the ground you hear the sounds of even more blaster bullets hitting its side.

“Din!” you yell up from below

“I’m working on it!” he shouts back down. A few moments later he manages to get the ship out of the reach of the blasters, punching it as he exits the stratosphere. A distinct beeping sound rings throughout the ship indicating there was a problem that needed fixing sooner rather than later. You ungrip your hands from the bars and check on the child who seems completely unaware of the situation. Using your free hand you pull yourself up to the cockpit where a disgruntled Mandalorian was cursing under his breath. You place the child down in the back seat buckling him in before taking your own.

“How far can we make it without stopping.” You ask after a long enough time had elapsed for the Mandalorian to calm down

“Far enough to be safe, I hope.” Turning to the side you see the kid sleepily closing its eyes.

“Could you put him to bed? I have to deal with this.” He says gesturing to the entire dashboard which was currently lit up like a tree on life day.

“Of course” you say, you were completely taken with the child, and more than happy to spend time with it.

“Alright where does he keep your bed then.” You say opening up a few compartments until you find the sleeping quarters. Opening the doors Anya’s head looks over to you evidently having slept through the whole ordeal comfortably on the bed. It was decent sized compared to most ship beds but still small especially for someone of Dins stature. Above it was a small hammock like contraption which you assumed was where the child, who was now more awake than asleep, slept.

“You need to rest.” You say softly, but he keeps staring up at you and grabbing at your hair. “C’mon you going to get me in trouble, with the guy upstairs” you smile down at him as he coos slightly. “Well I know one thing that used to help me sleep when I was about your size” You start to sing softly to the creature stroking one of its long ears as you do until it's fallen asleep. Unbeknownst to you the Mandalorian had heard you singing and followed the sound downstairs watching you and the child from afar.

“Mesh’la” he says louder than intended, causing you to turn around.

“He’s just asleep now,” you whisper, handing him to the Mandalorian so he can put him up top. You watch as he tucks the kid in gently squeezing one of its feet before turning back to quietly return to the cockpit.

“Did you say something down there?” you ask, sitting back in the co-pilot seat.

“No,well, yes I was just wondering what the sound was. I’d never heard something like it before.”

“What a lullaby. Didn’t have many of those growing up at the convent?” you ask, always slightly surprised by any personal information the Mandalorian revealed to you.

“No, at least none I can remember. What are they used for?”

“You’ve heard songs before though.”

“Yes, I heard some on Vryssa.”

“ Well Vryssa is home to many a folk song, helps people forget where they are. A lullaby is a song, often sung to a child to help them sleep.” You explain.

“What were you singing about.” He asks

“Ones was about a hanging that happened in Vryssa, told the story of two lovers planning to meet there”

“Doesn’t seem suitable for a child”

“No but I assume he doesn't speak English and lullaby is more about the melody than the words, the second was one passed down from my grandmother about the meadows of her home planet.”

“Where was she from your grandmother?” he asks.

“She never told me a name, only descriptions.”

“Maybe you’ll get to see it one day.”

“Ya maybe, if you and this kid don’t get me killed first.” you laugh, only partially kidding.

“Grogu.”

“Bless you?”

“The kids name, it’s Grogu.” he chuckled softly glancing over at you, still thinking about the way you had looked with him in your arms, singing softly.

After a while the beeping increases to a point where landing was no longer a task that could be put off. You step out onto a stone covered surface stretching out your legs and breathing in the remarkably fresh air.

“Think we lost them” you state, bending down and placing a palm on the smooth, cool moss covered stones. You stand back up and turn around watching as the Mandalorian exits the ship with a tool kit in hand and Anya and Grogu in pursuit. The kid follows Din over to where the damage is opting to stare up at him as he works, seemingly not wanting to be apart from him ever again.

“It's just one of the stabilizers, an easy fix we should be good to go soon!” He shouts over to you

“Anything I can do to help?” You offer

“No, It's a one person job. Thank you” With that you head off curious in exploration of the planet. It's old, empty, you wonder if anyone had ever been here before you. It wasn’t very livable, no trees, no food, no water, a truly desolate place. Yet it possessed a charm unique to planets of old, untouched by the reach of the empire, the republic and everything in between. You peer back over your shoulder, Anya’s sat protectively near the child who's still watching the Mandalorian rattle around the ship. You turn your head back as he closes up, not wanting to get caught staring. He picks up Grogu and re-enters the ship with Anya following close behind. You're about to join them when you feel something approaching. You begin to walk further from the ship and closer towards the presence you were feeling, stopping in your tracks when you see a triangular ship approaching. It's large, too big to be from any crime lord.

“It’s imperial” you hear a voice yell from afar as the Mandalorian makes his way towards you.

“Well never outrun them” you whisper, your brain running through the possible scenarios.

“We have to go”

``We'll never outrun them” you say louder and firmer this time, it didn't take an android to figure out what your probability of success was.

“We don’t have time to argue about this” he grabs your arm, but you pull it free turning to face him.

“Go” The words leave your mouth before you can process what you're saying. He doesn’t move. You can hear the ship approaching inching closer.

“Take them and leave, you have to protect them, keep them safe.” he was right you didn't have time to argue about this.

“Not without you.” he says refusing to move.

“Go!” you say shoving him “Now!”

“I'm not leaving you here”

“Yes you are, the kid he’s all that matters right now, go before he’s taken again. Now!”

“Just come with us” he pleads

“We won’t make it. You know we won't. This isn’t a negotiation. Go I’ll give you as much time as I can.” You see him finally accept the fact that this was in the only way.

“Here, take this” he says, giving you his blaster before turning and starting back towards the ship. He stops turning around one last time.

“(y/n) I…”

“I know” you say, using the force to throw him back towards the ship before turning to face the imperial ship which has landed a hundred yards in front of you.

Dialing up the ship Din takes note of the imperial model hoping he’d be able to find it again. As the troopers march out he sees you look back at him nodding your head as if to say you’ll be fine.You clear your mind breathing in the cool air. Closing your eyes you kneel on the ground placing one hand on the stone and the other on the blaster at your side. You can hear the ship taking off behind you as the troopers take aim firing at them from below, but the shots rebound off the force field that you’ve created.

You hold your ground as the troopers move in towards you determined to protect those inside the ship. Din watches as the blaster shots rebound back into the crowd of troopers. With one last look he jumps the ship into hyperspeed. He moves it into auto pilot and throws his head back in frustration as he hears Grogu cry out. “I know. Well get her back, but we're going to need some help” He says, picking up the kid holding him on his lap as he punches in the coordinates of a familiar planet. You drop the force field and begin firing when you hear the ship jump into hyperspace taking out as many troopers as you can before the blaster runs out. In one last ditch effort you throw it at a stormtrooper knocking it out. Slowly raise your hands in the air. They take aim. You prepare yourself.

“Wait! Don’t shoot” a tall man, dressed in all black says as the crowd of troopers part in his wake.

“We may not need the child after all.”

[harrywritingsbyme]

Im currently at Japan. I was hoping if you could make a blurb where y/n and harry meet in some way. Huhuhu labss u happy new year!!

A little place called Japan

A/N: I’m sorry this is so late. I hope you had a great time in Japan!!☺️

I’d like to dedicate this to Japan!Harry

Japan was one of those places where you could visit over and over again and never get bored of it. You loved the culture and the energy of Japan. You thought Japan couldn’t get any better. That at least was until you met Harry.

Tokyo Tower was pretty much an essential landmark to visit while you were there. Of course you visited the area on your first trip to Japan. So by now, you mainly came to sit, read and enjoy the scenery. The park near the tower was the perfect place for you.

It was your last full day in Japan before you headed back to your real life in London. So you decided to spend your last day in the park. You found the perfect bench in the perfect spot and you settle into your book.

You’re contently reading for a good while, before you feel a dip in the farther end of the bench. You don’t pay it any mind until you saw the face of a Shiba Inu making its way towards you. You close your book and you turn your attention to the friendly pet. You reach your hand out towards the dog and she instantly draws closer to you.

You become so engrossed in the dog that you don’t even acknowledge it’s owner. You continue playing with the dog until a deep voice snaps you out of your dog induced trance.

“It seems like I’ve been replaced. Or something” the man says in an amused tone.

Your head snaps in his direction. You recognized his voice and when you saw where the voice came from, it confirmed your thoughts. You were sitting on a bench next to Harry Styles. Inside you were freaking out in excitement, but you managed to keep your outwardly appearance calm.

“I’m sorry, she’s just so cute. What’s her name?” Your eyes pan back down to the happy dog, scratching behind her ears.

“Her names Bell. And my name is Harry.” He sticks his free hand out towards you. A wide smile panning across his face.

“Y/N” you reply through your smile, returning the gesture and reaching out to shake his hand. By that point, you didn’t know what you were smiling at. You knew it was between Bell and Harry, and right now, you were almost certain that it was Harry.

Not long after, you had abandoned your book and your whole attention was now on Harry, with you absentmindedly petting the content animal at your feet. You enjoyed listening to Harry talk about his trip. You found his voice to be very therapeutic and soothing believe it or not.

“So how long are you here for?” He rests against the back of the bench, with his full attention on you.

“Today’s my last day, I’ve been here for about a week how. How about you?” You say to him, noticing the gap between the two of you significantly shrink.

“I’m here for a little while longer, then I’m heading back home.” He says to you, trying to figure out a way to spend more time with you before he possibly never saw you again.

Now Harry didn’t believe in cliches. But he just felt like there was something about you that he couldn’t get enough of. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew that he couldn’t get enough of you. And once he finally noticed the book which was one of his all time favorites, he knew you were special.

The conversation lasted for about a good half hour before the cold finally got to the both of you.

“As much as I’m enjoying talking to you, my arse is going to be attached to this bench soon. How about we move this to this cool cafe I think you’ll like.” He chuckles, hoping you’d say yes.

“That’d be great. But before we go, I have to get a picture of the two of you in front of the tower. I mean, how could you not? It’s a photo op you just can’t pass up” You say suggestively getting up and beckoning him to come along. He gets up and he makes his way over to you. You position him in front of the landmark and you step back to take the photo.

“Okay Mr.Model, show me what’cha got. “ you say crouching in front of him. Making to get all the angles. He chuckles at your efforts, and you make sure to take extra pictures of him smiling.

“What, I have to get all the angles. Now serious face. Gotta get the money shot.” You say carefully positioning the camera to get the photo. “Got it” you say getting up from your position and moving over to Harry to show him the pictures.

“Y’have to send these to me.” he says swiping through the photos you took. You both walk side by side in the direction of the cafe he told untouchable about. You both make a quick stop at his friends place, dropping Bell off, and Harry quickly rushing back to you.

Next thing you knew, you were in the corner of the cafe, chatting it up with Harry. Normally someone you just met wouldn’t have such an affect on you, but with Harry, it felt like you had been friends for years. Something about it was easy, and you wished it wouldn’t end. You were already bummed out at the fact that you had to leave, but now you had to leave Harry? That just made you even more sad to leave.

“As much fun as this has been, I have to get going. Have t’pack up for my flight tomorrow” you frown picking at your muffin wrapper.

“Well Y’can’t leave until you send me those pictures” he says, his eyes narrowing in on you playfully.

“Fine” you groan pulling out your phone. He pulls his phone out and he hands it over to you, asking you without actually asking you for your phone number.

“Is this your way of getting my number styles?” You quirk your brow, taking his phone out of his hands.”

“Maybe” he says shyly, leaning onto his palm. You smile and you put your name and number into his phone. Checking everything over, making sure you put everything in correctly. You hand the phone back over to him and you give your phone to him so he could do the same. He hands your phone back to you and you start compiling your things.

The both of you get up from the table and you make your way to the entrance of the cafe. The two of you step out into the cold air of Japan and you quickly shove your hands into your pockets.

“I had a great time today” you say swaying side to side in front of him.

“Me too” he says smiling softly at you, soaking up as muck of you as possible. Out of your entire time together, this was the first time he got a perfect view of you. He realized you were beautiful early on, but now he couldn’t believe how beautiful you were.

He couldn’t resist the urge to take a picture of you. He quickly pulls out his phone and he opens his camera. “Smile” you look at him, questioning his actions. “Need t’put a face to the name.” He responds to you. You shrug your shoulders, agreeing with his logic. You smile at the camera and he snaps the picture or four. He looks over the pictures and he smiles at them before shoving the phone back into his pocket. “I wanna see” you pout pointing to his pocket. “Why, all of em’ are perfect” he says matter of factly, sending a wink your way.

“Well I better let you go. It’s gettin’ a bit cold out here. Don’t wan’ y’turnin into a popsicle.” He sighs, chuckling at his own joke.

“Yeah, I better get out of here.” You sigh, frowning at him. You couldn’t remember who initiated the hug but you knew you didn’t want it to end. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket. His warmth radiated off of you, keeping you warm from the sir around you. You wished you could stay like this forever. Eventually you both separated from each other and you said your final goodbyes before making your way down the street in opposite directions.

You didn’t tell Harry this, but the cafe he took you to, was your absolute favorite so you frequented it quite often during your trips. As you made your way back to your hotel, you pulled out your phone and you sent him the pictures you took. You sent him all of the pictures except one. You sent him this picture with a little message attached to it.

‘Even though bell wasn’t looking at the camera, this one is my favorite. You really do live up to your name Mr.Model🙂’

You both were saddened at the fact that you wouldn’t see each other again. But all of that quickly changed when you were standing behind a guy who had on rings and a hat similar to Harry’s. You just had to see who was standing in front of you at your local grocery store checkout line. You tapped the man in front of you on the shoulder and the person you hoped it was spun around to face you.

“Fancy seeing you here. If I knew any better, I’d say you were following me.” He smirks, hiding the feelings of excitement and joy that were running through his body at seeing you.

From that point on, your relationship with Harry blossomed into something that before you met him, you didn’t think was even possible, something you loved more than everything. Something you didn’t know you needed.

Let’s just say that from then on, Japan would always be special to you and Harry.

Masterlist