#like obviously i enjoy writing but this was just like a barrel of laughs

[in1-nutshell]

Add this to the bottom of the barrel.

I was playing tears of the kingdom and my brain did a hop skip and a jump.

Human body that climbs everything and everyone. has killed a bot with some really archaic weapon, lord knows what they'll do with an actual gun. doesn't really talk but communicates through grunts and hand gestures.

plus

Rodimus who just wanted to get a midnight drink - ...Buddy?

cut to Buddy who just stares back at him for a moment before running into the vents.

Rodimus - HEY GET BACK HERE!

Buddy is chaos. There is no stopping them from climbing anything they can get their little hands on.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy who communicates in grunts, noises and likes to climb with Rodimus Prime, Cyclonus, Nautica, and First Aid

SFW, Platonic, Human reader

MTMTE

The crew picked Buddy up from a planet’s flea market.

Buddy looked so miserable and malnourished.

The crew members were outraged seeing a human so far out in space and being treated like this.

Some go off in a corner to think of a plan to get the human without buying them.

Buying them will only make the buyer rich and chase more humans.

Whirl was the one who stole them from the buyers after causing a diversion.

For once Magnus didn’t put him in the brig for stealing them

The human didn’t speak like any normal human and was very distrustful of all the bots.

Except Whirl.

With time the human eventually warmed up to the bots, but they never really learned how to talk.

They were just fine with the grunts and noises.

It was a random name generator that picked their name since many bots had already gone to the brig for wanting to name them and others not agreeing.

Buddy was a simple name.

And they seemed to like it.

But there were some habits the bots picked up on.

Buddy loved to climb anything they could get their little hands on.

This caused much distress and amusement amongst the crew.

Buddy becomes the crew’s mascot/ friend/ gremlin that lives on the ship.

Rodimus

Rodimus likes Buddy.

He even set up a little chair for them on the main bridge in case they wanted to sit there.

He put it there after too many times seeing Buddy trying to climb the chair themselves.

And that one time they did manage to get on the seat and Rodimus nearly sat on them.

That’s why Buddy now has their own chair.

Do they use the new?

Yes and No.

They use it when they are on the main bridge for more than 5 minutes.

But they don’t sit on it.

At least correctly.

The amount of times Buddy has sat down on the chair wrong nearly glitches Ultra Magnus’s circuits.

Buddy knows this and likes to get a laugh out of everyone.

Rodimus is the loudest.

But not everything is fun and games.

Rodimus hates it when Buddy uses the vents.

He’s scared they are going to get lost up there like one of those Earth videos of families not finding their gerbil until they had to cut a hole in the wall and find it deceased.

Buddy, obviously, doesn’t listen to him.

Rodimus came back to his room after a meeting with Magnus and Megatron.

Turns on the light.

Buddy is sitting on his berth eating some chips.

“…Buddy?”--Rodimus

Buddy stares at him before running to the vent on the ground.

“HEY! NO, NO, BUDDY WE TALKED ABOUT THIS!”--Rodimus

Buddy makes some mocking noises in the vent.

“I HEARD THAT!”—Rodimus

Cyclonus

Being one of the bots on board that they were slower to warm up to, Cyclonus does find himself looking after them.

He blames Tailgate for planting the idea in his helm.

He lures Buddy in with treats and by being calm.

Buddy warms up to him eventually.

Cyclonus wants to teach Buddy how to talk so they don’t have to rely on noises or grunts like some unintelligent being.

Buddy was intelligent, they just couldn’t talk or write, that’s all.

He tries his best and sees that Buddy does try their best.

Even if they manage to make a letter sound, is plenty accomplishment for both.

“Repeat after me. Hello.”--Cyclonus

Buddy tries to say but huffs instead.

“No, like this. Hello.”--Cyclonus

Buddy starts making noises that sound like a cat hacking on a hairball.

“…Maybe that’s enough lessons for today.”--Cyclonus

Hacking noises increase.

Nautica

Nautica is one of the crew members that got along the fastest with Buddy.

Maybe it was her being friendly and kind to them.

Or it could also be the snacks she secretly gave to them after their meal.

Who knows?

Buddy has a habit of climbing on her when they want something or need to relax.

They do this with certain bots too, but she still feels honored to be chosen for this job.

All she needs to do is acknowledge Buddy, then be still until they reach the top of her helm or neck cables.

Gives them many head pats.

Buddy looking at Nautica from across the room.

Nautica was talking to Brainstorm about her new wrench.

Buddy walks over and begins to climb her leg.

“EEP! Buddy! You know better to do that without me knowing.”--Nautica

Buddy still keeps on climbing until they reach the top of her helm and just lays there.

“I guess someone wanted some attention?”--Nautica

Buddy huffs but pats her helm.

First Aid

Also, one of the faster members Buddy warmed up to.

But First Aid doesn’t really know why.

He did help Ratchet in making sure they were okay and helped them around the ship, but he didn’t do anything extraordinary for Buddy to like him.

But he is fine with that.

First Aid rather enjoys the company of the smaller human.

He knows Buddy is smart.

One day First Aid came in feeling a bit under the weather and Buddy was making all sorts of gestures and noises to get him out of his desk and to the med slab.

Even trying to carry his digit to the slab.

They knew he wasn’t feeling well and wanted to help, something First Aid found endearing.

However, …

Giving Buddy checkups were 50/50

They could come into the med bay doing everything he said to do and get a treat by the end.

Or…

They would be ‘clawing’ and squirming at everything that came towards them.

First Aid walks into the med bay.

Buddy is sitting on his desk chewing.

“Buddy? Buddy what are you chewing?”—First Aid

Buddy pauses, but then chews faster.

“NO, NO, NO WHAT DO YOU HAVE SPIT IT OUT!” –First Aid

[sarahsmi13s]

Rodeo

(not my gif)

pairing: robert ‘bob’ floyd x pilot!reader (call sign: rodeo)

characters: bob floyd, reader, dagger squad, penny benjamin, pete mitchell, some dick named john and his friends (who aren’t necessarily dicks)

warnings: fluffy bob, bob in a cowboy hat, fighting, drinking (of age), suggestive, i believe that’s it

word count: ~2.2k

a/n: this came in second place, but i love it just the same. and i’m very close to writing a part 2 for this ;)

quick summary: when your relationship with bob is reveal to the squad, hangman can’t help but wait for bob to stake his claim on you.

*************

You sat in the Hard Deck, nursing your beer and playing pool with Phoenix when the bell chimed.

You glanced up and saw the Texan himself walk in, hat on and everything.

“Hangman, what the hell are you wearing?” Phoenix asked, leaning on her cue. You looked him up and down, chuckling when you heard his response, “I wear this all the time.” His accent had gotten thicker after visiting his family.

You had all just visited your families for Christmas. It was only two weeks but it had given you all plenty of time to slip back into your old accents.

“Nice buckle, Bagman,” Rooster commented, obviously teasing the fact that the buckle looked like it weighed down the front of his pants.

Jake puffed out his chest, a smile gracing his features, “Thank ya, Chicken. Thought I’d bring it back with me, I ain’t worn one in a while.” Rooster sipped his beer, “You get it at Bass Pro or something?” Jake’s face fell and you couldn’t help but laugh. “You did not jus’ ask me that.”

You glanced at it, looking at the details. 

“You rode?” Hangman turned to you, his smile returning, “Yeah, best there was.” You hummed, sipping your beer before sitting it down to line up your shot, “What made you quit?” “I wanted somethin’ different for myself. My older brother rode, my dad rode. I did it for the adrenaline, so I thought maybe I could get my high while doin’ somethin’ that had more meaning.”

Before you could retort, Jake had looked at Bob. 

“Since when do you wear hats?” You smiled glancing back at the WSO, who was wearing a reddish-brown felt cowboy hat, before looking back and catching the way his pilot looked at you. “Well, Bagman, you ain’t the only one that grabbed something from home.” Jake nodded in mutual respect before looking back at you.

He took a quick glance down at your belt line, seeing the lights reflect off your own buckle.

“You rode too?” You nodded, taking the final shot of the game, “8-ball far left corner pocket.” You gesture with the cue before taking the winning shot. “That’s game Phee.” Nat rolled her eyes and slipped you a 20.

“So, what was your event?” “Barrel racin’.” “Were you good?” “Best there was,” you winked and sat next to Bob. “How’d you think I gained the name Rodeo?”

Hangman donned his signature smirk, “I could think of a lot of things.” You shoved him, “You’re gross.” “Come on, Ro. That was funny.” Bob shook his head and draped his arm behind you on the booth.

“What made you quit?” Hangman asked as he slipped into the seat across from you. You sighed, “I raced for nearly my whole life. My brother Bryan did too. I could say I got out for the same reason you did, cause it wouldn’t be a lie. But I was always just Bryan's kid sister, or Darrel L/N’s daughter. I made somewhat of a name for myself, but by the time people saw me as me-”

You shrugged, sighing, “I didn’t enjoy it anymore. It became more about the trophies than the experience. So I decided to be the best at somethin’ I was proud of. That could give me a family, like the rodeo used to.”

Jake nodded in understanding, he patted your shoulder before moving on to bother Rooster and Coyote.

Bob sighed and let his arm fall around you and pulled you close to his side. “You didn’t tell me that.” You looked up at him, “Sure I did. Did I not?” He shook his head, “No, and you know I listen to every word you have to say.” You scrunch your nose, “I swear I told you.” He shook his head, “Nope.” You pouted, “Oh, well now you know.” He nodded, “That I do.”

You both smiled and he pressed a kiss to your lips. “Bob-” “I know Y/N, I just-” You cut him off by grabbing his shirt and kissing him again. “I’m tired of hiding it too.”

********

Meanwhile, everyone was watching the two of you.

“I can’t hear a word they’re sayin’,” Hangman said, straining a little to hear you both better. “Dude, when is that gonna go away?” Phoenix asked, in reference to his accent.

“Oh, it’s always there, trust me. It’s normally strong when he's drunk or really pissed,” Coyote confirmed, laughing a little.

“Plus, you never complain about Rodeo’s accent,” Jake commented. “Yeah, but it’s cute on her and gets Bob all flustered.” The group hummed in agreement before turning back to the (no-longer) secret couple in the booth.

They watched Bob kiss you, say a few words before being pulled in again.

“Damn, when will it be my turn?” Omaha asked, shaking his head. 

“Bob is so in love with her it isn’t even funny,” Phoenix revealed. “He always talks about her, and they went to see each other's families over our break.” “Really?” Yale asked, crossing his arms.

Phoenix nodded, “He’s been in love with her since the mission in May last year. And I’m sure it’s the same case with her.” Halo nodded, “Yeah, I had to listen to her talk about him all the time. And then Bob would talk to me if you were anywhere within earshot of Y/N. He’s fallen hard, they both have.”

Jake shook his head, his eyes trained on the couple as they talked, “We don’t know how in love he is with her though.”

Everyone just scoffed, “Do you not see how they are looking at each other right now?” Fanboy asked, looking at his fellow WSO and his second best friend. “It’s painfully obvious.”

Jake scoffed, “Cowboys have a special way of tellin’ each other a girl is off limits, other than a ring and a few hickies.” “Which is?” Harvard asked, stepping closer, intrigued.

Hangman glanced around and saw a few guys looking at you, “Okay, when Bob gets up and leaves her alone, one of these guys will try to flirt and Bob is probably gonna see. And being the silent and passive aggressive type-”

“Guys, Bob’s moving,” Payback caught their attention. Everyone shut their mouth and watched how you sat there, a grin on your face as you picked at the label.

Jake narrowed his eyes trying to pick out which guy was gonna make his move.

Coyote hit his arm, “4 o’clock.” Hangman turned his head, seeing a guy high fiving his friends before adjusting his posture and making his way to you.

You didn’t look up when someone sat across from you. 

“You weren’t gone very long.” “Well I just got here,” the guy chuckled, and that’s when you looked up.

You glanced around for Bob, but didn’t see him. 

“I’m John.” “Rodeo,” you said, leaning back in your seat. “Rodeo?” You laughed, “It’s my call sign. I fly for the Navy.” John tilted his head, “You’re not from around here are you? You sound funny.”

The pilots, who had discreetly moved closer, dropped their jaws. “He did not just say that,” Rooster hushed out. “Oh he totally just did,” Phoenix smirked, waiting for you to lay into the guy.

You just laughed, “You have no idea how to actually talk to a woman do you?” If that hurt John’s feelings, he didn’t let it show, “Oh, I can show just how I talk to women.” He winked, “If you wanna take a ride?” You scoffed, sipping your drink with an arched brow, “Sorry, pal. I’m not interested.” He scoffed, fidgeting in his seat.

The group knew he was getting frustrated and there was no sign of Bob coming back, so they had to prepare to jump in themselves. Especially Hangman.

“Look, John, while I appreciate the offer, I’m already scheduled for a ride.”

Omaha and Yale choked on their drinks. Rooster and Phoenix smirked proudly, both for you and Bob. “I wasn’t expecting that,” Payback said, leaning on the pool table.

“With who? That cowboy that just left you here alone,” John glanced around. “And doesn’t seem to be coming back.” He looked back at you, “Come on. I could show you a better time.” He placed his hand over yours, gripping it.

You sighed, really just wanting him to leave you alone, “John, you are aware of the rules in the bar right?” He scoffed, and tightened his grip when you tried to pull away, “Yeah, don’t leave your phone on the bar. What the hell does that have to do anything?” You glanced up, smirking.

“You missed a few. There’s also a rule against disrespecting the Navy and women,” Bob looked at the tight grip on your open hand, and the tenseness of your shoulders. “And from what I can tell you’re breaking both. I can get Penny’s attention right now, then you have to buy everyone a drink, or you can leave.” 

John stood up, being the same height as Bob he could look him in the eye. “And if I don’t.” Bob glanced at you and you shook your head, not wanting him to get into a fight when it wasn’t necessary. “Well-” John punched Bob. “Bob!”

Hangman, Rooster and Coyote immediately jumped into action as you reared back.

“Rodeo,” Maverick had appeared, moving from his seat at the bar while Penny moved to the guy's friends telling them they needed to leave. Maverick had caught your elbow, “He’s not worth it. Help Bob, we’ll take care of him.”

You nodded and moved quickly to help your boyfriend, helping him up and grabbing his hat. “Are you okay?” He nodded, wincing slightly when you brushed your thumb over his busted lip. “That doesn’t look okay.”

He shook his head, adjusting his glasses, “I’m fine, Sweetheart. I’ve dealt with worse.” 

As John’s friends dragged him out, calling him a ‘fucking dumbass’ and throwing out ‘I told you so’s, Penny came over with a small ziplock bag of ice.

“Thank you, Pen,” you took it and the damp napkin, pushing Bob to sit on the table. You gently wiped the blood from his lip, “Bobby, I’m sorry. I coulda-” “Stop, don’t do that.” You nodded, “Alright.” He smiled, but it was small so it didn’t irritate the cut.

The group watched. They saw how your tongue poked out in concentration, and Bob’s eyes looking up at you.

“So, Hangman, what’s the thing? How’s he gonna ‘claim his territory’?” Fanboy asked, crossing his arms. “It seems he already has, his eyes are basically hearts,” Payback commented. “That’s exactly why he’s gonna do it.” “Do what?” Rooster asked, propping himself on the table next to Hangman.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue, cowboy,” you said as you pressed the ice to his lip. He hummed, “Of course, Princess.” 

He grabbed your wrist gently and moved the ice away from his lip. 

“It’s gonna swell.” “I know a way to make it better,” he sat up straight to look at you and kissed you. You giggled and ran your free hand into the hair at the base of his neck.

When he pulled away, he tongued the cut on his lip, “I need a way to show everyone that you're mine. And I’m not allowed to give you visible hickies.” Both of you knew it was too early for marriage, not that it bothered either of you but you knew this wasn’t how Bob would propose.

You smiled against his lips, “I think they know now, Rob.” He adjusted his hat and chuckled. “Now, as much as I love kissing you, this will be sore without ice.” He nodded and let you place the ice back onto his lip.

“You know, I’ve got an idea.” You hummed, “What’s that?”

Jake watched with bated breath as Bob reached up to take his hat off.

Bob placed the felt hat on your head, “There, now everyone knows.” Your eyes brimmed with tears as you looked at him. “Bobby…” “I know we’ve only been together for 8 months but-” You pulled him in for a kiss.

When you pulled away, his glasses were askew and his cheeks were flushed. “I love you too.” 

Bob smiled and looked over, seeing Jake smiling and dancing a little. “I think Hangman’s more excited about me giving you my hat than you are.”

You looked over and laughed, “Oh wow…”

“Do that!” The blonde pointed over at you two. “He gave her his hat, so?” Harvard said, sipping his drink. “In the south, that’s like a proposal. It’s like a promise ring,” Jake was still pointing excitedly at the couple. “Wait really?” Phoenix asked.

“Yeah, really,” you confirmed when you and Bob walked over. 

Jake rubbed his neck, “Did you-” “See you dance like a teenager that just scored a touchdown? Sure did,” Bob said, ice pack muffling some of the words.

Phoenix smiled sadly at her backseater, “You okay?” He nodded, “I’ve been bucked off a horse and pull g’s everyday, a punch to the face is nothing.”

Hangman couldn’t stop smiling at the two of you.

“Hang? You okay?” He nodded, “Just happy for ya is all.” You smiled and hugged him, “Thanks man.” 

When you pulled away, you reached back for Bob’s hand. He grabbed it and intertwined your fingers.

“Now, if y’all will excuse us. I think my scheduled ride has been bumped up. See y’all tomorrow.” You tipped your Bob’s hat and he waved as you pulled him out the door and to his Jeep. 

********

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed!

thank you to those that voted for this story and i will be posting the last one tomorrow. i really appreciate all of you that voted! 

if you want more polls for the ‘x reader’s that are just chilling in my docs let me know or if you have any requests for more fics please do so!!

love you guys <33

top gun tags <3: @milesdickpic​ @luckyladycreator2​ @hotch-meeeeeuppppp​ @sebsxphia​ ​

thank you guys for being here! i love you *mwah*

[see-fee]

What are you thoughts on Apple TVs Foundation version?

Ah. I never wanted to talk about that, but I guess my thoughts on the subject are as worth putting down as any, so here goes.

Boring, dumb, cringeworthy, badly written by hacks.

Bad showrunner/writers, bad cast (one or two exceptions). Bad everything except the visuals. I couldn’t be bothered to continue past the second or third episode, where I Raych-quit from the sheer stupidity.

Not because it strayed from Asimov’s work (though it can hardly be called an adaptation when it so flagrantly disregards its source material). I can assess and enjoy adaptations on their own merits. The show is simply not entertaining—a cardinal sin for entertainment. Things happened one after another and I just didn’t care. I wanted to, but I didn’t.

It wasn’t even enjoyable in a greasy burger/guilty pleasure way (e.g. Whedon’s Firefly or early JJ Abrams like Fringe). I’ve gotten far more discerning with age/maturity but I do still watch dumb popcorn fare (including the I, Robot summer blockbuster). And this show wasn’t that for me. Because it was sold as more than that, in a world where shows like Andor exist.

Because it pretends to be smart when it clearly isn’t, when its incompetent writers have never written anything of value in their lives. Very stupid people are behind it: Goyer and Friedman. Showrunner and writer David Goyer is a talentless hack whose own writing/producing portfolio is riddled with trashy bottom-of-the-barrel superhero mediocrity (rated as low as 3/10, 4/10, 5/10 on IMDb, and the way ratings work is that there are false positives but no false negatives), who somehow weaseled his way into successful franchises where other writers did the heavy lifting. Its other writer Josh Friedman has nothing remotely decent under his belt, either. These cheap hacks have obviously never read or understood their source material beyond a perfunctory skim (and if you believe anything they spew, I've got a waterfront property in Oklahoma to sell you. Two words: publicity & marketing.) The proof is in the pudding—Goyer and Friedman lack the brains to handle the material, let alone deviate from it.

I didn’t finish the season because I don’t think it gets better. The core problems I noted aren't going anywhere, and plenty of sensible people with good taste have shared the issues they have with it, and much of that is in line with my own experience or expectations of quality.

Season 2 reeks of jumping the shark. I’ve seen the trailer and laughed at its ridiculousness. It was a flurry of “we have Star Wars at home” scenes and also for some bizarre reason there were dragons? Or something? They’re not even pretending to be Asimov’s story any more—which is probably better for everyone involved.

Change My View: I sometimes wonder if I ought to give it another go, though I don’t have Apple TV anymore which adds to the friction. If anybody mature (I'm a full decade past my meme years) with decent taste (more Oppenheimer than Barbie, more modernist than postmodern internet shitposter, more level-headed than rabid fanatical addict) wants to tell me how this show has some merit despite its flaws and is worth my time, please do. I’m all ears.

Criticism on writing + cast below 👇

Characters, dialogue, plot are badly written/designed.

They do stupid things for stupid reasons (mostly: the plot requires it). Reciting prime numbers beCaUsE mAtH. (Cube did it better.)

That early swimming pool sex scene—whereas it was plausible for the characters in Game of Thrones or the Expanse, here in the hands of dumb writers it’s a girl thirsting over a guy she just met because The Plot Requires It, so that this guy can randomly stab Seldon later in a truly idiotic turn.

Machiavellian characters like Salvor Hardin get downgraded into some basic military chad guarding the Ethereum logo, for some pathetically trite Chosen One storyline and a lame what’s-in-the-vault mystery with a hilariously awful payoff. (I laughed so hard when I found out what it was. That you-know-who was literally in the vault.)

The two decent cast members are surrounded by a pack of Z-rate bargain bin actors whose previous credits hover in the 2/10–5/10 range.

Lee Pace is recycling his Joe MacMillan from Halt and Catch Fire but with a chest-baring wardrobe, since he’s the designated eye candy. Jared Harris is phoning it in, also recycling the same role he’s cornered a niche on: whistleblower-guy-who-gets-ignored-then-dies, a la Chernobyl and The Terror.

Laura Birn is doing a passable job with what she’s given to work with, but, in an utterly inexplicable design choice, the poor woman must stand in an asinine arms-akimbo pose all the damned time because we need to remember iT’s a rObOt. Who can cry and have sex but not stand normally. Or something. (Humans did it better.)

Terrence Mann was a forgettable snooze-fest—so was Lou Llobell.

Leah Harvey and the rest I saw were laughably awful.

[daintydoilypon]

What's something you know is cringe that you love? Be it tropes, fashion, lifestyle, etc.

Or

What's something you think is cringe but love anyway?

Okay. Hear me out.

Any werewolf romance novels. They are bottom of the barrel, self-insert, mary sue, main character syndrome trash. Most are like "My aLpHA MaTE ReJectED ME, But I'm A sUPER POwerFUL WITCH WOLF HYBRID and the WOLF PRINCE IS MY SECOND CHANCE MATE" kinda thing. I really enjoy reading them because they're so stupidly cringe. It makes me want to write good stories, like a what not to do kinda thing and it makes me laugh so hard I cry, love it.

I read one recently where this girl didn't go into wolf form, rides a motorcycle, she cut a rouge werewolf in half with a katana, but she was 5ft and "not as attractive as her ex-mate's blonde mean bimbo stereotype gf", so very obviously a self-insert, and her mate was like the definition of an alpha male guy and I cackled for quite some time. There was another one where the girl was an omega slave or something and all 3 alpha triplets were her mates and she was fine with it, even though they were HELLA ABUSIVE FOR YEARS prior to the mate bond and it was ckjdblefah, it's so bad. I really recommend it just for the sheer hilarious cringe. It makes me feel better about my writing //WHEEZE

[kierancampire]

Americans. Do you enjoy America's Funniest Home Videos?

So it's late, I have nothing to watch, and Disney+ added the animal edition to its service so I thought as a bit of light easy watching before bed, I'd put it on just for noise and humour. But. Oh. My. God. I dunno if it's cultural or if it's that bad in America, but watching one episode was hell

So the Carlton dance guy opened the show with a monologue about a barrel of monkeys, but like, nobody laughed, it seems like it has some form of live audience watching (though assumedly a small one) and literally I think 2 people did a polite light chuckle. But it happens the whole show. This dude doesn't shut up, speaks constantly and constantly tries for jokes. But nobody ever laughs. His "humour" and voice are just so grating. He talks the whole time and has his own segments every 2-3 minutes. And nobody ever laughs.

On Disney+ this isn't a huge issue obviously, but the first ad break happened around 12 minutes in, but then after that ad breaks were literally happening as little as 5 minutes after the previous one? How do you watch TV like that? And another thing I just didn't get at all, like, this drove me insane. So they had a "Top ten" segment, except, it counted from number 10-5 or something, then said it would continue later, then 4-2 and said it would continue later, like, it wouldn't show number 1! But then when it did, it replayed heavily cut versions of the videos you JUST watched as a "recap" and then finally showed number one??????? And at the end of the episode it just replays all the videos you just saw as Carlton yet again won't shut up the whole time and tries a different "joke" for the videos he already made a "joke" about? But who needs to see a recap of something you just saw 5 minutes ago?

Also they tried to make a "funny" video of an obese dog and even gave that video a $1000 reward for being the best/funniest video, even though it was a neglected and obese dog? I'll avoid the easy America joke but like, considering it sometimes tries to portray itself as caring about animals, I just did not get that? Like watching that one episode was hell, and I just didn't get any of it? But like, is it cultural or is it bad even in America? Cause I'm writing this trying to pass time so I don't have to watch another episode

[microfeelings]

Ive been talking a lot of shit on 2012 wich makes it seem like I'm not enjoying it (and im not) but it does haves its pros, in fact im writing all the pros and cons of this show bc I obviously have nothing to do...

So far in good things we have: its kinda funny. I like Leo, wich isnt to say I didnt like him in other iterations, he was just always bottom of the barrel(affectionate) in this one hes a solid 2nd place (i know thats gonna change when karai appears). I like some brother interactions (when they made sure Donnie was okay before laughing at him for losing to a monkey, Raph getting Leo out of an anxiety spiral with a quote from his favorite show, yeah I eat that shit up)

[groundcontrol21]

Sicktember #13

Prompt #13: Seasonal/Pet Allergies

Fandom: The Three Musketeers (bookverse, I even tried to emulate the writing style, sorry Dumas)

Title: In Which The Character (and Handkerchief) of D’Artagnan is Put to the Test

Summary: Firmly inspired by this post by @sickromancer: “No, you can’t fight a duel with a hay-fever like that.” But when the duelist in question is D’Artagnan, he’ll find a way through all the sneezing. 

Notes: In the book (and in the BBC show), dueling is banned, but that’s no fun, so here it’s all fully legal (but still ill-advised). Although, a little illegality never stopped anybody 🤷

On account of it being a beautiful April day, the sun shining brightly and no tasks set before them with which to fill it, the three Inseparables decided to spend the warm morning lazing about in the leafy courtyard behind the Hôtel de Treville. Knowing that D’Artagnan had been invited to take breakfast with the captain and the other newly commissioned Musketeers, they expected his presence later, and were thus surprised to find him already perched at one of the courtyard’s tables, polishing his hand weapons with such vigor as though they had done him personal offense. 

When D’Artagnan did not so much as acknowledge their loud salutations as they approached his table, nor grant their arrival at it with any more than a red-eyed glare, Aramis observed, “It seems our Gascon is in a worse mood than usual!”

In reply, D’Artagnan gave a sneeze so loud and forceful he was forced to grasp his cup to keep it from toppling off the table. “Heh’EESHHHH!” He grumbled and produced a handkerchief from his sleeve, wiping at his nose with the hasty conviction of a man who had already been wronged one too many times by the bothersome appendage. 

“And a bit ill as well,” Athos observed, for his part.

“I’m not ill,” D’Artagnan growled. His friends raised their eyebrows at him; surely he could hear how his own voice was pitched about an octave below its usual? He growled again at their expressions, then growled a third time when his nose demanded he sniffle. “It’s the damnable flowers with which the architects of Paris have seen fit to line every bed and fashionable avenue.” He gestured to the pots of lilacs that hung in the windowsills of the courtyard. “I’d like to wring every last one of their necks!”

“Come, such violence to a flower?” Aramis said, laughing. “Well, gentlemen, let it not be said that our noble Gascon has no Achilles heel.” 

Porthos laughed, too. “If, God-forbidding, there ever comes a time when we fall out of favor and the occasion rises for a duel between us, I shall remember to schedule it in a botanist’s hovel.”

There was, however, no humor in D’Artagnan’s occluded voice. “Would you care for that duel to come today, Porthos?”

“Come, D’Artagnan,” Athos said, “what has sharpened your temper so?”

D’Artagnan ignored the older man’s inquiry, training his teary eyes on Porthos with a rabid intensity. “Perhaps you would like to schedule it for two o’clock at the Jardins des Tuileries so that I may do away with you there the way I will do away with Menard of the Red Guard just the hour before.”

Athos nodded significantly. “Ah! It is the heat of anticipation that makes his blood boil so fiercely.”

D’Artagnan turned once more to his handkerchief. “EHKSHHH! HESHHH! Ehh’ehhh’hehhhKSSHHHH!”

Aramis bit his lip. “And what has Monsieur Menard done to provoke such a challenge?” 

“Now, Aramis,” Athos said diplomatically. “I am sure the young man’s ire is justified.”

“I lay no accusation of the contrary,” Aramis said, raising his hands, palms up, in a gesture of surrender. “It is merely that I wish for our D’Artagnan to keep in mind my warnings against senseless escalations.”

Porthos scoffed. “Fie! Your warnings. Too much time with your prayer books, Master Abbé, makes you forget. A man cannot let any insult against his person stand, no matter how slight!”

Athos turned to the Gascon, who was again wiping his nose on his handkerchief. “Tell us, D’Artagnan, what caused you to issue the challenge.”

D’Artagnan told them the story of how Menard had found him taking his breakfast on a bench outside the Hôtel de Treville and how he had asked D’Artagnan why he was not dining inside with the rest of his company. At first, D’Artagnan had rebuffed the man’s inquiry, stating that if the Red Guard minded the law half as much as they minded another man’s private business, France would be all the safer indeed. But then he had sneezed thrice, awfully, and Menard wondered aloud whether the Musketeer hadn’t been kicked out on account of plague, and so D’Artagnan felt forced to impose upon the Guard that he was indeed healthy, and the true cause for his suffering and his solitude were the lilacs that the had lined the serving tables at breakfast. He had then sneezed a good four times more, and Menard insulted the quality of the expulsions. D’Artagnan in turn insulted the presumed quality of some of Menard’s other bodily expulsions, and the two men agreed to settle their insults with a duel. D’Artagnan relayed this story with all the gravity and attention it deserved, and so was immensely incensed when Aramis and Porthos commenced to laugh so hard they clutched their sides. Even Athos was smiling broadly. Aramis at least had the good grace to look a tad contrite when he glimpsed D’Artagnan’s iron scowl.

“Apologies, dear friend,” Aramis said, wiping tears from his eyes. “But surely you can see the humor in this situation?”

“No,” D’Artagnan growled, his words bouncing dully off swollen sinuses. “I certainly cannot.”

Porthos snorted again, but was silenced by the unmistakable crack of a foot striking his shin beneath the table. 

Athos regarded the Gascon seriously. “Who chose the location? ”

“Menard.”

Aramis clucked his tongue in reply. “Have you been to the Jardins des Tuileries yet this season?”

D’Artagnan shook his heavy head. 

“I have been with a–” Aramis colored almost imperceptibly, but continued, “--a friend.” At this, both Athos and Porthos swallowed down choked noises in their throats. “The gardens are absolutely filled with lilacs. Menard must have known this.”

Athos nodded. “It is the only reason he would have chosen such a location, out of the way for you both. It is on the outskirts of Paris. Would not the square behind the Louvre serve you just as well?”

D’Artagnan slammed his blade and towel on the table with such force as to cause the birds nesting in the tree across the courtyard to take flight. “He wishes to humiliate me further, the dog! The scoundrel! As if insulting me for my damned hayfever, over which I have no control, wasn’t enough.”

Athos nodded sagely, watching as D’Artagnan pawed at his reddened nose with a series of enraged sniffles. “The only question which remains is,” the older man said, “what do you intend to do about it?”

“Well, there is only one thing that can be done, I suppose.” When none of his friends showed indication of following his logic, Aramis continued as though supremely put-upon. “We convey a message to the rascal Menard and pray that he sees sense.” 

Immediately, Porthos and D’Artagnan rose with a clamor from the table, and Aramis shook his head. “He cannot fight like this!” He gestured to the sniffling Gascon. “If the flowers have such an effect on him merely by being in the vicinity, imagine what it will be like when they are at his feet!”

“You advise him to back down from a challenge?” Porthos snarled. “Pardieu, Aramis, I fear you really have taken your clerical lessons too much to heart!”

D’Artagnan opened his mouth, no doubt to add another remark in spirited agreement with Porthos, but the only thing which issued forth from his mouth was another fit of sneezing, which of course incidentally supported Aramis’s argument. “HETCHOO! Hehh’TSCHH’uhhh! Heh’hhhRSHHHH! Ihh’ISSHHH!”

Once it was clear the young man had finished, Athos spoke. “The challenge is D’Artagnan’s, and so it is up to the Gascon to decide the course of action.” His light eyes roved the length of D’Artagnan’s body, like an appraiser studying a jewel. “But as his second, I issue this condition: Spar with me now. If you land a touch, you may go.”

D’Artagnan whined like a child. “But Athos is the best swordsman in the regiment!”

“All the more reason a touch should be proof of your fitness, then.”

Athos drew his longsword and, with a discomfited hmph, so too did D’Artagnan. Soon the crash of sword against sword broke the silent air as the two fought, Athos wearing an expression of curious disengagement all the while D’Artagnan scurried around like a rat to parry his blows.

“Don’t tire him out before he’s even fought!” Porthos called.

Aramis hit him on the shoulder. “Oh, hush Porthos!”

But the two of them had noticed the sweat that was already beading on D’Artagnan’s forehead, especially in contrast to the way Athos hardly seemed to move. The Gascon was far from fighting fit, that much was certain, his position firmly on the defensive even though Athos was clearly not giving his all. He leaned to the side to let off two sneezes.

“KSHH! Heh’KSHH!”

“Sneezing on me does not count as a touch,” Athos said. He raised the tip of his sword to D’Artagnan’s throat as the man blinked heavily. “Let’s go!”

Perhaps the ribbing had induced some new vigor in the young man, for not long afterward did he make a small, neat cut on the fabric of Athos’s shirt near his shoulder. D’Artagnan smiled, his breaths heaving, and stowed his sword back in its sheath.

Athos did the same and shrugged. “A promise is a promise.”

“This is folly,” Aramis said sharply. 

Athos tapped his chin. “That balm from your mother—would it help in this situation?”

D’Artagnan sniffled bitterly, taking his friend’s concern as a mockery. “Seeing as though I have no wound which is external, I should think not.”

“Given his nose’s sensitivity at present, the herbal scent would likely do more harm than good anyway,” Aramis added, and then sighed deeply. “If you must fight, promise me you will duel only to first blood.”

Porthos and D'Artagnan rose again in a bleating chorus. “Aramis—“

Athos shook his head. “On this I must side with Aramis, I’m afraid.”

D’Artagnan cried out with the sharp fervor only a young man deeply incensed by the injustices of the world can possess. “But I landed my touch!”

“Only after I would have taken your sneezing head off ten times over.”

Aramis smiled to himself, and D’Artagnan sulked into his handkerchief. He remained nearly as taciturn as Athos for the rest of the morning, despite his friend’s attempts to rouse his spirits and engage him in their conversations to pass the time. In his view, there was not much to be said, not when every bit of the world from his friends to the flora seemed to side against him.

At last the time came for them to depart to the Tuileries for the duel, which revived D’Artagnan somewhat, as much as a man who can hardly breathe through his nose can be lively.  The first thing he noted upon arrival at the gardens was that Aramis had told the truth; all other types of verdure had seemingly been neglected in favor of the accursed purple blossoms. The tickle which had assaulted his nose all day quadrupled, despite being near the bounds of intolerable before.

The second thing he noted was that Menard awaited him, with only one man as his second. “I must say, Monsieur D’Artagnan,” the Red Guard said, “given the state of you earlier, I am quite surprised to see you here.”

D’Artagnan rubbed his nose in an attempt to quit the infernal tickle before he spoke, but the gesture was futile. “What is it, Monsieur Menard? Eh’KSHHH! Heh’KSHHH! Do you mean to imply that I am–Hhh’RSHHH!--not a man of my word?”

“Nothing of the sort!” Menard held up his hands. “Quite the opposite, in fact. I am shocked to see a man remain so bound to his word despite the obvious…” He trailed off, brow furrowed in slight disgust at the noises D’Artagnan was making. “The obvious cost to him to do so.”

The Gascon regarded his opponent through vision made blurry with tears. “I am not a man to be felled easily, of that you can be certain! Not by you and most definitely–Ahh’KSHH’uhh!-- not—KSHHH’ooo!-- by a damn hay fever! HESHOOO!”

Menard gave a clipped nod. “That much is plain to see.” For a moment all was silent (save, of course, for the various noises of D’Artagnan which could not be helped), until at last the Red Guard spoke again. “I am willing to withdraw my earlier statements and dueling challenge in the face of such determination, if you are willing to do the same?”

‘Heh’RSHHH’uhh!” His nose was beginning to feel as though it was swelling shut, and D’Artagnan could scarcely see through all the irritated tears which clouded his vision. A year ago, perhaps, he would have barreled on with the challenge like a headstrong ox–in all honesty, he was still quite tempted to–but he congratulated himself on the wise temperament he was developing with age as he nodded.

“I am.”

Menard offered his hand. “In that case, Monsieur D’Artagnan?”

“Monsieur Renard,” D’Artagnan said, and shook his hand. 

“It is settled?”

“Heh’KSHHH!” He leaned to the side and withdrew his hand to grasp for his sodden handkerchief. “So it is.”

With that, the two parted ways. The Gascon returned to his friends, his whole face feeling as though it were being pressed in a vice, and they hurried to lead him out of the gardens and hopefully, back to his apartments by way of streets that were relatively flower-free.

“I still say we let the scoundrel off too easily,” Porthos grumbled. “He obviously knew what he was doing, setting the Tuileries as the meeting place.”

“I still maintain that D'Artagnan should not have gone at all,” Aramis countered. “Look what a scant ten minutes there has done to him!”

“The two of you can bicker all you like once we have deposited the Gascon back at his lodgings and me back at mine,” Athos said. “We face more pressing issues at the moment, like whose handkerchiefs D’Artagnan will use now, that his has clearly been used up.” 

D’Artagnan was helpless to reply, save for a thundering, “HAHSHHHOOO!”

[pa-panda-heroes]

Rengoku x Reader Birthday Surprise!

As requested by anoni! I enjoyed writing this, even though it got much longer than I wanted, haha.

Find the event post here.

Words: 1379

Weeks.

You’ve been preparing for this moment, for weeks.

For weeks you’ve been covertly purchasing ingredients, trying various recipes gathered from old ladies around town, practicing the method of tea brewing (and finding quality leaves), and subsequently failing at it all until you succeeded. It was little Senjurō’s idea, but the weight of actually making it happen fell on you, not only as an adult but a freer person in general; the boy’s father kept him under his thumb at all times, and so Senjurō had little realm to roam, save for an approved visit on occasion to your humble abode—escorted by your beloved, of course.

You hear that very man outside, laughing and making merry with customers and being friendly with the innkeep for which you worked. Kyōjurō was always welcome at your place of work; there was never a soul that came through which didn’t get along with him, and your boss, the owner and inkeep, didn’t mind his lingering around – that is, unless he distracted you from your duties, which tended to happen on occasion.

Grinning at Senjurō, you nod at the boy, who is as nervous as he is excited and thrilled to bits. He wanted very much to do this for his big brother, to make the occasion special to showcase just how special Kyōjurō himself is. His grin is wider than yours.

You can hear your love ask about your whereabouts, wondering if you were stuck in the stuffy kitchen that you called your place of work.

He approaches the shoji door, before you see it slide to the side and reveal Kyōjurō himself.

Senjurō jumps in place alongside you, and you both shout “Happy birthday!” in unison excitedly, pulling a look of sheer surprise out of your lover, who pauses halfway into the room.

“Oh!”

His little brother rushes to him and runs right into Kyōjurō, barreling into him in a tight hug. Kyōjurō wraps an arm around his shoulders in reciprocation whilst still looking at you with shock, seemingly stunned into actual silence (you broke him!). He takes in the small array of wagashi and tea, noting the tasteful arrangement of it all. You’ve obviously put a lot of thought into it. He wanted to marry you on the spot, but there was no way he could admit that aloud.

“I’m glad you’re back safe,” you say, wringing your hands together. It’s been a good while since you’ve seen your beloved, and you’ve missed him dearly. It feels like it’s been so long that you almost don’t know how to act around him anymore! You open your mouth to say more but elect not to. Your relationship is still new, after all.

“Ahh…”

It appears Kyōjurō is having the same dilemma, compounded by the fact that you’ve surprised him with a birthday celebration.

“Hey, big brother!” Senjurō breaks the silence, pulling away from his elder and grabbing his wrist before tugging him to the set up you put together. “Y/n-nee made all these by herself! Isn’t she an amazing cook?”

You giggle at the sweet compliment but wave your hand in a negating fashion. “Oh, Senjurō! You’re too kind. I’m not that great.” You feel your cheeks and the tips of your ears burn from the compliment; the Rengoku family chef was very talented and skilled, and so to have Senjurō praise you so highly was embarrassing.

Snapping back to his usual cheeriness, Kyōjurō rushes over to your makeshift platform and table, gazing over all the sweets. “Don’t sell yourself short!” he tells you. “Residents all over town drool over your cooking! Many come here simply to eat and never lodge!”

“W-well, I-“

“Let’s dig in!”

Defeatedly, you grin wide and nod in agreement before joining him and sitting down across from him. Senjurō happily sits at your right and Kyōjurō’s left. With a hefty “itadakimasu!” and boisterous “thank you!” from your lover, you all begin to dig into your pre-served portions.

After every bite, Kyōjurō belts out a “delicious!” and after a while Senjurō begins to quietly mimic him, mirroring his respected big brother. But you notice Kyōjurō’s boisterousness begins to feel a bit forced. It’s barely noticeable, but being as intuitive as you are, you see it clearly. Senjurō, being much more naiive and caught up in enjoying the sweets, doesn’t appear to pick up on it.

You bite your lip after a mouthful of yōkan, chewing the sweet gellied paste with ease. After a moment’s contemplation and swallowing your bite, you take a sip of your tea and turn to Senjurō. “Senjurō, would you be a dear and do a favour for me?” you ask sweetly.

Always willing to help, Senjurō quickly nods, the mouthful of dango mochi in his mouth preventing him from speaking. He swallows his mouthful and nods again. “Sure! What is it?”

“I hate to interrupt your snacking,” you begin sheepishly, “but I promised Watanabe-obaasan across the road a bit of yōkan this morning and forgot. Could you take it to her for me later?”

Senjurō looks to his brother. “If it’s okay, I’ll bring it out now so I don’t forget and leave for home later.”

Kyōjurō pats the boy on his head aggressively, grinning wide all the while. “Good thinking, Senjurō!” He nods just as aggressively. “Your work ethic and willingness to care for your neighbors is honourable! Go on, then!”

“Thank you! I’ll hurry back!”

As Senjurō leaves, you watch Kyōjurō carry on, enjoying the yōkan very much. You sit nervously for a short moment. You want to say something, but feel it isn’t your place. Your relationship with Kyōjurō is still a fresh one after all. You know him well, though not well enough to pry easily. You don’t realise it, but your facial expression morphs into something anxious and worried, and Kyōjurō notices.

He takes a swig of tea and sets the cup down with a clack. “So!” he says. “I’m sure you have had a lot of patrons to feed and clean up after lately.”

You look off to the side in thought. “Ah, a decent amount, I’d say. Not too much but not too little.”

“That’s good! I don’t want you working too hard! You’re a good, hardworking woman, but don’t neglect yourself!”

“Thank you.”

The air of the room settles a bit as Kyōjurō becomes serious. He seems hesitant in a thoughtful way. “We can talk to one another, you know.” He tilts his head at you just a tad, so very gently. He looks gentle. “Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Oh!” Instinctively, you slap your palms to your cheeks, unawares previously of your change in expression – which he read like a book. “I’m so sorry. It’s just- well…” You fidget with your fingers, avoiding eye contact. “You didn’t look as excited as I thought you would.”

“Ah, you saw right through me.”

“Yes.”

Kyōjurō dons a wistful smile. “I didn’t mean to make you sad,” he says. “This is the first time someone has arranged something for me on this day. I’m not sure how to act. No one has ever really put any thought into this before.”

You blink at him, and with a sweeter smile he pats the floor at his side, signaling for you to crawl next to him, and so you do without question. He brushes a clump of sweat-glued hair from your cheek and tucks it behind your ear. You lean into his touch, before he cradles your cheek with his calloused palm. “Don’t misunderstand, love. I’m very happy right now, and I’m the luckiest man around to have you at my side. Being loved like this will just take some getting used to for me.”

“Really? Do you mean that?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he lays a hand to his chest. “With my heart.”

Lower lip trembling as the thought of Kyōjurō never having been celebrated or honoured this way, you stare up at him with dewy, doey eyes. “Promise me you’ll let me do this every year. Promise me you’ll stay.”

Knowing you meant a much longer stay than this occasion, that you were too shy to ask outright, Kyōjurō leans in and rests his forehead to yours.

“I promise to be at your side forever.”

[dailytatsu]

Hello! I love your writing and I recently saw a post of yours about the reader being the God Of Chaos and I was wondering if you could make a part two with characters of your choice, if it’s not that much of a trouble! Remember to drink water and rest well <3

Tysm! I’m really happy to see that a lot of you enjoyed it, and being honest, chaos reader now have a special place in my heart lol

Then let’s write a second part! Hope everyone likes these as well! ( ✌︎'. ')✌︎

Thanks for the request!✨

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[II - HC] God of Chaos! Reader & Genshin Characters

Characters: Bennett, Tartaglia, Scaramouche, Ganyu, Chongyun

Gn! Reader

Sorry for any mistakes!

Request are open!

Genshin Masterlist

<- First part

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BENNETT

First of all, how dare u

This boy already has a chaotic life for you to arrive and making it worse.

But being honest, it wasn’t intentional, just like always.

Besides he’s a kid. The chaos of a kid + chaos of his bad luck, I mean- how were you not supposed to meet him?

That day was really strange, for the very first time the chaos wasn’t attracted by you, but you were attracted to chaos. Like a moth following a lantern on the street, something that you felt like you had to do, some kind of childish curiosity that guide your way to find Bennett in the middle of his adventure.

Poor boy was charging his pyro attack to max until a barrel exploded near him, he flew in the air waiting for a rough landing before his trajectory sent him where you were standing, still looking for the origin of that uneasy sensation of curiosity.

Luckily for him you could see his shadow just in time to react. You looked up because of the strange silhouette on the ground next to you and there he was, surrounded by a cloud of smoke and fire, with his screams getting louder and louder as he falls.

You trapped him in your arms, with the situation turning even more strange when the first thing he said was “nice catch!” with the bright smile of his.

Like if his hair on fire wasn’t a big deal.

It’s raining men ig

Before you could ask anything, a crowd of angry hilichurls appeared from the same direction where Bennett came at first.

The white haired boy jumped off from your arms and tried to grasp your hand to run away together, but instead you pulled him near and then behind you before rising your hand to the front, pointing the stampede of furious creatures about to reach you both.

Not even a leaf fell from a tree before the hilichurls stopped, all of them felt your presence immediately, the primitive sensation of danger that meant a silent threat. Following the message that another camp of them told long ago, ‘get away from that stranger’.

Bennett was surprised, kind of scared at least. He wasn’t sure about how to call that feeling.

Are you a beast tamer?! Maybe an adventurer that discovered a secret about hilichurl’s behavior! Wait- where are you going? Don’t leave him behind, the doubt won’t let him sleep tonight!

You explained to him that it was dangerous for both to be near each other (more dangerous for him than for you), still you needed to get away. To protect Bennett and the other adventurers that were exploring nearby.

But why? He was so excited about meeting someone who could react that fast and precise! Like the heroes in the legends!

Please show him your ways, he’s begging you, how can you be rude to Bennett? That literally illegal.

When he heard that there was a God of Chaos exploring all over Teyvat like an errant he connected two points (even if there wasn’t a single thing to connect in first place).

You’re like him!

Hello ?? You’re literally ?? the most qualified to be part of Benny’s Adventure Team ??

Negative plus negative is positive, isn’t it? Maybe if you roam near Bennett his bad luck can collide with your chaos to neutralize each other!

You told him that you were leaving after that short conversation, but in reality you just hide from his sights and followed him from behind.

That kid really put you on your nerves, running into danger without knowing. Was that what Zhongli have to deal with every time you visit Liyue?

The old man really deserves an apology.

You’re not doing this an habit, of course not! You’re the all mighty God of Chaos, the ultimate troublemaker! How was even possible to think about wanting to protect a human just because he has bad luck? That’s ridic-

“Watch out!” You had to abandoned your hiding spot to reach Bennett again, pulling him away from the place where a bunch of hunter’s traps were. “Barbatos, why all your children have to be like this?…” You whispered for yourself, actually waiting for a answer, maybe a little too much because you didn’t free Bennett. His feet were just barely touching the ground.

“Oh, it’s you! Hello again!”

Enough of babysitting, that’s it, both of you are heading back to Mondstadt. This boy is a danger for himself, who allowed him to be an adventurer in first place?

After abandoned him in front of the city’s bridge you turn back to the forest, believing that it was the end, even if in the process your chaos took the life of some pigeons nearby.

Next morning you were sleeping peacefully on the branches of a huge old tree, feeling the wind of your bard friend greeting you from the distance.

Then a storm started out of nowhere; your fault.

And almost immediately you heard a cheerful voice below you, calling your name like a lost child searching for their parents.

As Bennett climbs the tree to talk with you a lightning strikes near enough to make both of you jump because of the surprise, falling from the branch and meeting each other on the mud below.

“Sorry, my bad.” Bennett and you said at the same time, to later laugh because of that.

It seems that both are more alike than you would expect

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TARTAGLIA

How do I explain that this guy already knew about you-

As you may suspect, yes, his only reason of wanting to meet you was to fight you.

The first step for taking the thrones of gods is beating one of the youngest, isn’t it? It would be a good start, and you’d be also one of the best opponents he ever fought! The only thing still needed was a way to make you accept his challenge.

Tartaglia’s first try was by attacking you without hesitation, not even a warning, just shooting an arrow for behind and waiting for you to counter. And yes, that didn’t go as planned, the rope of his bow snapped even before aiming.

It wouldn’t be that easy, the distance is always boring for a fight, why not just attacking directly?

Because you learned from Morax that you must not hurt mortals; the reason of your trip was for appreciate the human’s life, to understand why you exist, to have a reason to not end with everything that crosses your path.

To convince yourself that you’re not only destruction.

But it was hard to stay calm if he constantly provokes you to fight back. Always dodging, always running away, always breaking his weapons.

Barely holding yourself to not to break his Vision at this point.

Dodging one of his attacks again you ended up on top of a nearby structure by the side of the road, watching him from above and begging for him to stop for once.

Tartaglia clicked his tongue in annoyance, you would escape again. He was as sick as you of that senseless hunt. Maybe was the stress what impede him to think wisely, because his next strategy was like a death wish.

The water blades disappeared from his hands and, for the first time, he had a casual talk with you. Smiling and waving his hands to look relaxed.

Then he mentioned the incident with Osial, a event that almost became a tragedy. And the only reason you knew about that was because Morax told you about it, about his contract and the reason why he left his position as an Archon the next time you visited him.

It was your fault, isn’t it?

“… what?”

"As you heard! The conditions for summoning Osial was ideal, bringing back a sealed god filled with hatred and hungry for destruction couldn't have been possible if you hadn't been around Liyue that day.” His hand lifted to pointing at you, also smiling as your expression turned into a concerned one. “Oh, our God of Chaos, you were successfully satiated as the catastrophe filled the ocean! Bring us back the destruction, because it's the only thing you ever knew!”

He was obviously just mocking you, but still Tartaglia managed to actually make you think about it.

Your fault. Your chaos.

And even with that, Rex Lapis didn’t seal you or tried to eradicated you like the burden that you are for every nation.

It’s just a matter of time before you destroy all humane existence when you get bored of your fantasy of not being a spirit of chaos.

An infinity of negative and dark thoughts began to fill your mind.

It was sad, it was so sad that the erosion already began to have an effect on you being so young. You were afraid, you were concerned, the stress ate you inside while you tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t like he said.

Your mind collapsed, and you left the wrath take the control for the first time in centuries.

A fight? That’s all he wanted? Easy, that’s easy, just kill him and everything will end. His annoying voice won’t torment you ever again, his words won’t hurt ever again.

It’s easy, so easy. Mortal life is so easy to end.

He’ll defeat the gods, he’ll take their thrones and will witness the world’s end in the final battle he planned since his first encounter with the traveler.

But that day Tartaglia noticed the difference between your strength, it wasn’t huge, neither significant enough. But you were stronger, and it’s well known that wrath and despair can provide extra energy when it’s needed.

The perception of time disappeared, the world did too. Nature, men creation, everything will succumb against chaos, existence itself will be reduce to ashes.

That’s why you exist, to make sure there’s not too much heroes trying to make the nations a boring place. You just need to accept it!

But…

‘There’s no other way?’

The question sparkle inside your mind, bringing you back out of nowhere. There’s a lot of irregularities in the ground nearby, the land was broke for something that impacted with an inhuman strength, even the structure where you step on top was gone, just the remain of a building was left.

And your hands were holding something bland and soft, the warm sensation on your palms and the strange movements caught your attention to look down. Your hands were strangling Tartaglia.

From the other side his hands were trying to remove yours, his strength was minimal, not even able of closing his fingers around your wrist.

A expression full of pain and regretting of his decisions, question by question filling his mind while the air became harder to get.

A broken bow, his Vision has been thrown away. Now it was a human versus a god.

You took a step back, afraid of what you were about to do. You have to stay calm and quiet forever? To prevent catastrophe, to bring peace to mortals? Who’s the one you have to blame for creating you? How you could think that coexisting with humans was possible? Even if you say that you don’t want to make any problems you would stay near them.

“Just… leave me alone.”

Was the last thing you said, a whisper that wanted to apologize for a whole eternity, a regret that couldn’t be forgot. And then you left that place, escaping one last time.

But wait for him, Tartaglia thought, he didn’t need your compassion.

Sooner or later he would have his revenge.

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

SCARAMOUCHE

Finally! With Shogun Raiden’s gnosis on his possession and the all mighty hero of Mondstadt weakened there’s no way things can go wrong for him!

A little delay in his plans, but still a smile remained on his face. Kunikuzushi couldn’t wish for anything else right now.

But you already know what is going to happen next.

In this world exist Murphy’s Law?, because anything that could go wrong went wrong after he claim for victory. Even being far away of the factory it seemed that the karma reached him immediately.

He just got his guard down for a couple seconds, and then, whoshh. Now you see it, now you don’t. The gnosis disappeared from his pocket, not here, not there. The annoyance filled his chest and then a irritated growl came from his throat.

What in the world happened?

Scaramouche looked to a huge tree in front of him, and there you were. On your favorite place to sit, above from everyone else in a branch. Holding the gnosis as the board piece it looks like, playing throwing it up a little and then catching it again and again.

Who you think you are to act that carefree on his presence? If you wanted to die so bad then you could just have asked for it.

Even if he called you and made a question first you counter it with another one, what was he doing with that thing?

You were sick of those who defy the gods thanks to his ‘workmate’.

Scaramouche ordered you to give him the gnosis back, threats and insults came out from his mouth as a distraction; in reality, he was just ready to set the first hit from behind.

But something made him stop just in time when you talked again.

“I don’t care what you are planning, but if it involves the ones who I’m in debt with, you will surely fail.”

“Another clairvoyant? Hah, your type are more words than an actual subject matter, but I have to admit it, they’re also very skill to escape.”

“It was a warning.” You said, throwing again the gnosis, this time to his direction.

Scaramouche reacted in time to rise his arms but in midair something caught the chess-like piece before his fingers. Surprising him again and making the irritation event more unbearable.

It was a tanuki. The same that looked behind a second before running even deeper in the forest.

The chaos isn’t necessary a huge disaster; a little accident, an inconvenient, a failure, it depends time and place to be considered like a catastrophe.

Scaramouche had a killer gaze just for you in his face, in respond you smiled at him, then covered your mouth with both hands to fake surprise.

“What a shame! Better luck next time, gods defier.” Your laugh could be heard all over the woods, like a spectral echo that chased him his way to get back the gnosis.

He got it back after a few minutes of a stressful walk through the forest, found the tanuki dancing on a stone before disappearing again. When he got closer he found that piece, making sure it was the real one and not just another trick.

The following days he received endless reports of Fatui soldiers and entire camps being reduced to rubble aside lost or destroyed materials; it was a higher level sabotage done by who they said was someone of relatively young appearance in strange clothes, the one that enjoyed staring at them until something goes wrong.

Nobody could defeat them, not even get closer. And with that, Scaramouche knew they were talking about you.

Was that what you meant with “warning”? Who are you exactly? Not even holding a Vision, how could you… ?

A quick order was enough to deliver him a book full of ancient legends, part of the Fatui private collection. Texts that were lost and the world had forgotten, his only hope was that you weren't exactly mortal, and if that was the case they could take advantage of your nature.

Hah, he found you.

God of Chaos, a body sculptured by the blood and bodies of the ones who died in middle of the wars. At first they were just a being full of anger and affinity for taking the life of every living being on earth, until the same hand that created them gave them a human heart of their own. Made without any prior basis, without being the remains of the deceased. Something one of a kind, the mortal heart of a god.

When human emotions filled the vessel they were released into the world, to mourn over the spilled blood and to know how everything of their existence originates. Born from the red that stained the fields and being the bud that seemed withered, the same that now has the deepest roots ever found.

Hmm, that brings back some memories…

But hey, that vital energy could be useful.

Don’t be surprised if one day you wake up chained and feeling dizzy as Scaramouche drains your life. You know what? Just wait for it! Running away as you did with that idiot won’t work this time.

Every possibility can be foreseen, every inconvenience can be solved. And if you think that you’re an exception then you’re stupider than you look.

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

GANYU

Bold of you assume that Zhongli didn’t introduce you to everyone the first time you travel to Liyue.

The difference between your meeting was that it had to be really short. Ganyu is always busy so you couldn’t know her better before her duty called for her again.

Obviously you heard a lot of stories of her childhood thanks to Cloud Retainer. The day she knew about it Ganyu avoided you, next week she apologized with you about it. It was very rude, please pardon her.

Such a big sister vibes ngl

An Adeptus working that hard to human’s matters. It was so cool to follow her from a significant distance to see how was her routine.

If you could only live that peacefully near humans without causing any problem! What a dream! The envy was killing you.

Ganyu didn’t mind about you stalking her, the feeling of a companion was always present and she also knew that you had to keep some distance from everybody to not cause any accident. She appreciated your consideration.

Until a soldier from the millelith arrested you for harassment, wait- you’re innocent! Don’t get closer, hold on! Hold on!

The handcuffs broke almost immediately, though.

When Ganyu resolved the misunderstanding she hold your hands to apologize again, it had to be really stressful to be aware of any chaos you could create accidentally.

What if you… wait for her on the surroundings of the city?

Please, she have a lot of work, don’t interrupt her, she’s begging you.

Ganyu thought you heard her request, but she knew that you were just hiding when a window opened out of nowhere and a lot of documents flew away in the room.

You appeared hanging upside down from the other side of the window, jumped down and entered to pick up the documents. You hand her over all the pages and then you leave through the space on the wall.

“… I’ll be in Huaguang Stone Forest… ”

“Thank you.”

Even though you both agreed that you would return to the stone forest, she couldn't help but feel guilty as the hours passed, did you feel like a nuisance? Maybe she should apologize. Again.

When another successful day at work ended, she realized that repeating the same words over and over was not the best way to show her regret. That’s why a better idea formed in his head as she approached the abode of the rest of Adeptus.

Ganyu found you being scolded by Mountain Shaper for unintentionally releasing the trespassing intruders along with other creatures from their amber prisons.

After rescuing you again, she was able to propose her idea to you. With a calm and charming voice she asked you if you would like to learn about Liyue's traditions from the human perspective.

Sure, Zhongli could tell you about the beginning of traditions and festivities, but the way to celebrate them and pay tribute to the Adeptus was something that only a person who had lived among mortals for years could explain to you.

Your eyes shone in gratitude but no words really came out of your lips, kind of embarrassed you said some nonsensical things and then another amber cracked when you brushed its surface.

Mountain Shaper kicked you out without thinking twice.

But hey! The next day your classes on Culture from the Mortal Perspective began! A quick but calm walk through Liyue that got spread when a bunch of kids recognized you.

How could they not remember the person who plays with them every time they get a chance?

Ganyu sat by the side of the road on an empty bench, watching you scamper the children who seemed happy at your mere presence. Like the occasional accidents of a child, the curious and outlandish nature cannot be controlled, only accepted.

➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹➷➹ ➷➹ ➷

CHONGYUN

Don’t move! The future best exorcist in the world, Chongyun, will put an end to your legacy of misdeeds and pranks! No evil specter that causes bad luck will survive to-!

Just by lightly tapping with your fingertips you were able to break the seal of the talismans that surrounded you out of nowhere. Pushing back the boy who was convinced that he had beaten his yang.

how dare u interrupt him.

Another of Xingqiu’s pranks? Isn’t this going a little to far? He hadn’t learn about not believing everything his friend says smh.

Let’s just mess with him a little.

‘Measure your words, human. In the presence of the God of Chaos, the first thought that should run through your mortal instinct is to beg for your life, since those who dare to defy them will be punished and displayed as a trophy in the infinity of the abyss from which the catastrophe came out.’

You took a few steps closer to him, while Chongyun kept backing away. The scene was so dramatic that you had to stop when the boy summoned his sword.

Haha jk, nice to meet u.

It's nice to know that there are still such dedicated exorcists out there.

But wait-, so you're not an evil spirit? A God? Why is there a god causing accidents all over Liyue!? That makes no sense! If you think you can deceive him by pretending to be a deity then he shall punish you severely for disrespecting them!

After a detailed explanation of your identity, Chongyun's mood plummeted again due to another failure as an exorcist.

He sat silently on a rock and remained silent, his expression showed so well his disappointed that it made you feel like it was your fault.

Ohno, a sad human child, your weakness-

At the end you sat next to him to listen to what he had to say.

Did he really want to see a spirit so badly? Those things are horrible, wearing strange clothes and yelling all the time, buagh! The thought of it gives you chills. But there's nothing you can do, after all they are drawn to your chaos.

When you finished talking so indifferently about what you lived through from day to day, you looked back at Chongyun, finding his expressive eyes filled with astonishment and disbelief.

Are you a magnet of evil? Chaos and destruction? Demons and spirits alike appear wherever you go?

Then you stopped him, it wasn't something to take so lightly; there’s also the chaos of the butterfly effect, natural disasters, unforeseen events, influencing the mood of evil people, losing your favorite pair of socks-

But you attract spirits, right!? You have to help him! How can you say ‘no’ to that face?

The next day he took you to one of his commissions as an exorcist, a house that had numerous reports from its previous tenants. He stayed outside and asked you to come in first, obviously you refused, if your chaos broke something inside you would have more problems besides the ghosts of the house.

He insisted a little more, it worked. Now you were waiting to feel the presence of some spirit trying to attack you. You could feel it, their energy was spread throughout the building, but still there was no movement. Neither hostility, neither terror, just the presence of a soul.

When it was Chongyun's turn to enter you explained this to him, his yang was also easy to perceive, you could describe it as a blizzard in the middle of the storm. But despite this, that presence didn’t react to his energy, nothing changed.

Then you understand it, your energies neutralized each other. Your chaos and his yang ended in a stalemate that went nowhere.

“I was really hoping to see an actual spirit and not only stay still in the middle of the entrance… “

“Well, I can still curse you. Want to try?” Chongyun crossed his arms, annoyed for your jokes.

“Maybe I should exorcize you instead… ”

“Ohh, so the little exorcist wants a deity to be his personal dummy? Let’s make a pact then. Promise me your soul.”

“I-I thought you said you weren’t actually a demon!”

When you stroked his hair he couldn't help but think about how much he still had to learn, so much so that even the gods were taking pity on him.

[angelicyoongie]

Christmas in abundance

— pairing: hybrid bts x human f!reader — genre: fluff! — word count: 4.5K — summary: If the boys wanted to play Secret Santa, who were you to deny them? Though maybe, just maybe, you should’ve thought twice before adding a penalty to the mix. — a/n: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!! I hope you’ve all had a good and safe time. This Abundance christmas special does not have anything to do with the original story, so nothing that happens here will affect it. This is a little rough, ngl, but that’s what I get for not writing for a month lol. Either way, I hope you enjoy it!! 

"I'm home!" You shake off the lingering cold with a shiver, the warmth in the house wrapping around you pleasantly as you shrug off your coat. You barely have time to slip out of your boots before a body crashes into yours, a pair of strong arms pulling your body flush against a firm chest.

"You're late," Hoseok whines. The dog hybrid tucks his face into your neck with a huff, nose skimming against your throat as he works to cover the myriad of scents on your skin with his own.

"Sorry, I got held up a work," You sigh. "The office wants to do Secret Santa this year, so we had to figure out who would gift who.”

“Secret Santa?” A puzzled expression crosses Hoseok’s face as he pulls back.

“Oh, it’s a pretty simple game many people like to play during the holidays! You draw a random name, buy that person a gift, and then try your best to keep it a secret that it’s you,” You say, a smile tugging at your lips at how adorably confused the dog hybrid looks. The golden tail behind his back halts its quick movement; Hoseok’s head tilting slightly as he takes in your explanation. His eyebrows furrow as he thinks, an emotion you can’t quite place flickering in his eyes before he suddenly breaks out into a big grin, “Can we do it too? It sounds like fun!”

“Of course!” You say. “Just ask the others if they want to do it to? It won’t be much of a game if it’s just us two.” You reach up to gently ruffle his hair, the dog hybrid nearly falling over himself as he tries to lean into your touch.

“I need to go freshen up, I’ll see you guys for dinner?” You let out a soft laugh as Hoseok nods into your palm, a pout forming on his lips as you pull away.

“I’ll go ask them,” He gives you a bright smile before you turn to hurry up the stairs, more than ready to get into some comfortable clothes. Hoseok watches you leave, his smile falling into a frown as you round the corner.

He quickly walks down the hallway, mouth set in firm line as he turns into the kitchen and says, “We have to be secretive Santa’s.” The room grows quiet as six pairs of eyes find Hoseok’s form in the doorway, their stares a mixture of apprehension and bewilderment at the sudden declaration from the dog hybrid.

“What?” Namjoon sputters.

“Are you okay, hyung?” Taehyung rushes forward to place his hand against Hoseok’s cheek, his fox ears pinned to his head in worry.

“Did you hit your head?” Yoongi leans against the counter with a faint smirk, his dark tail swishing playfully behind his back as Namjoon shoots him a sour look. Hoseok only gives Yoongi a huff in response before he gently removes Taehyung’s hands from his face, pressing a soft peck against his palm at the worried expression on his packmate’s face.

“I’m fine Tae,” Hoseok assures him. “Y/n told me about a game humans play during the holidays. They draw a random person and have to gift them something, and since she’s playing it with her co-workers, we obviously have to play it too. We have to give her the best gift.” Looks of understanding flashes across the other hybrids’ faces, and Namjoon lets out a hum of approval at his packmate’s quick thinking. They can’t have their courting be upstaged by a human.

“But it has to be a secret,” Hoseok’s words are met by a displeased hiss, Jimin narrowing his eyes at the dog hybrid. Yoongi places his hand at the back of Jimin's neck, giving him a comforting squeeze as he says, “Well, it doesn’t really matter who gives her the present, right? As long as whatever we give is better than what the human gives her.” Jimin looks like he wants to protest, but a quirk of Yoongi’s brow in his direction settles him quickly, the younger cat hybrid leaning against his alpha with a defeated pout.

“What about the rest of the presents?” Jeongguk’s soft voice takes them all by surprise, the bunny hybrid hardly ever speaking up when they’re all together in one room. Jeongguk keeps his eyes trained on Hoseok, trying his best to ignore how his body grows more and more tense for each second as the attention shifts to him.

“Uh, I guess the rest will just gift each other something?” Hoseok clears his throat, heat creeping up the back of his neck as he finds himself pinned under the bunny hybrid’s big questioning eyes.

“Boring,” Jimin mutters. As Yoongi’s gaze narrows at his packmate, Seokjin hurriedly adds, ”If it’ll make Y/n happy, then I’m in.”

“Me too,” Jeongguk murmurs.

“Me three!” Taehyung grins.

“Sure, we’re in too,” Yoongi waves them off, his hand still tight on the younger cat hybrid’s neck.

“Fine,” Jimin sighs. Namjoon rolls his eyes with a faint smile as Jimin’s tail betrays his indifference, the younger cat hybrid obviously excited at the prospect of receiving a gift judging by the excited flick the end of his tabby tail does. “So we’re all in then,” Namjoon says.

“Great!” Hoseok beams, “I’ll go tell Y/n.”  

❅ 

You grab another box, wobbling slightly as you take your first step down the ladder. You can’t believe it’s almost Christmas already. The last weeks have passed by in a blur of important court cases, and aside from greeting the boys when you leave and come back home from work; you haven’t had any spare time to spend with them. You feel bad. Not only because you miss them, and you know they miss your company too, but also because this is your first Christmas together, and you had wanted to make December as magical as possible. But, thanks to all the late nights you pulled at the office earlier in the year, you’ve earned yourself some extra days off. So, while you might not have been able to make all of December an adventure for them, you’re going to try your hardest to make the next three days leading up to Christmas Eve as fun as possible.

“Hey Namjoon, can you help me with this?” You call out over the boxes stacked in your arms, gritting your teeth as you try to make it down the attic ladder in one piece. Maybe you only should’ve done one at the time, but where’s the fun in that? There’s nothing quite like the idea of falling and breaking a bone to really get the Christmas spirit pumping through your veins.

You let out a sigh of relief as heavy box on top is removed, but the sight that greets you over the cardboard wasn’t one you were ready for. The wolf hybrid has a sweet smile on his face, dimples on full display as he easily hefts the box under his arm. It’s just so domestic that it makes your heart skip a traitorous beat; almost making you miss the last step as you stumble down into the hallway.

“You okay?” Namjoon takes a step closer as he looks you up and down, his free hand reaching for your arm in case you feel unsteady on your feet.

“I’m fine!” You wince inwardly at the high pitch of your voice, plastering on a strained smile as you try to get a better grip at the decorations in your arms. 

“Just, you know .. excited for Christmas!” You barrel past him before he can see the flush creeping up your neck. As you hurry down the stairs, you can’t help but mentally curse yourself for how just seeing Namjoon holding a box and looking cute manages to short-circuit your brain. How the hell are you supposed to survive seeing the rest of the boys decorating the whole house?

❅

“Yoongi, that’s not ..” You bite back a laugh as the cat hybrid ignores you, practically folding himself in half to make sure he fits inside the empty cardboard box. You watch as Yoongi gets up and sits back down, folding his limbs this way and that way until he’s happy with his position.

“What?” He glares in your direction when he notices your amused stare, his tail puffing up defensively as you shake your head.

“Nothing. It’s cute,” You giggle. You turn before you can see the faint flush in Yoongi’s cheeks, the cat hybrid sinking down lower in the box to hide how pleased he is at your comment. You open another box, pulling out the rather tiny assortment of tinsel and garlands you’ve saved over the last years. It might have taken up a lot of room in your old apartment, but you doubt it’ll be enough to decorate past the first floor in this house. You do have time to run to the store and get some more, but even just imagining the crowds doing all their last minute shopping makes you want to shudder. It’ll just have to do this year.

“Hyung, I need those,” You hear a soft grumble from the couch as Jeongguk pushes Seokjin away from the nearly empty popcorn bowl, the hamster hybrid making a discontent noise as it’s moved away from him. The popcorn and cranberry string is looking a little short considering how much you gave them earlier, but you quickly realize the problem when Seokjin turns in your direction. He’s storing his snacks.

The hamster hybrid’s cheeks are so puffed out you’re honestly surprised he can even close his mouth. You stifle your laughter as you turn your attention back to the tinsel, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. It’s honestly adorable, but you know the boys can get embarrassed over instincts they can’t control, so if it’s something as harmless as eating popcorn and taking up residence in a box, you’re more than happy to pretend you haven’t seen anything.

“Hobi, can you help me with this?” You call over the dog hybrid, gesturing to the tinsel. You’re sure it’ll go much faster putting it all on the tree if you’re two people doing it.

“Sure!” Hoseok grins.

“If you go stand on the other side of the tree, we can just pass it back and fourth,” The dog hybrid easily follows your instructions, and you’ve already gotten the tinsel wrapped around the tree a few times before it abruptly stops. You frown, giving it a few tugs in case it got caught on the wrong branch, but it’s not moving. You peak around the tree, confused as to why it’s stuck when you have so much length left, but the reason becomes apparent when you find Hoseok’s hand tightly wrapped around the glittery garland.

“Hobi?” You give it a small tug, and the dog hybrid only smiles sheepishly in response as he immediately tugs back.

“Sorry,” Hoseok whines as he pulls his hand back again, the golden ears on top of his head drooping. “I didn’t let go of the tinsel before you pulled and ..” Ah. You let the garland go slack in your hands, and the dog hybrid only stares at the glitter for a few seconds before his grip loosens as well. His instincts thought you were playing tug of war. “Sorry,” He repeats.

“Hobi, it’s fine! I really don’t mind. Maybe we can play some actual tug of war later if you want to shift?” You offer.

“Really?” You can see the uncertainty still lingering in Hoseok’s eyes, but the tail behind his back can’t help but do a few excited wags.

“Of course. We can go outside the moment we finish decorating,” You grin. Hoseok’s face lights up, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he gently nudges you out of the way, taking the tinsel out of your hands. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone decorate a tree that fast, the dog hybrid practically vibrating with excitement as he shoves a container of ornaments into Jimin and Taehyung’s hands.

“Hurry, hurry,” Hoseok mutters as he throws a look at Namjoon, confirming that the alpha is stringing lights above the window like he's supposed to.

“Right,” You smile, grabbing the closest ornaments to hang them on the tree. You let your eyes drift around the room as you place the first ornament, your chest almost feeling like it’s going to burst with fondness as you see all the hybrids look so focused on their different tasks. It’s moments like this where it’s easy to forget all the arguments and nasty behaviours that have transpired between the packs. You’re not gullible enough to believe that it’ll just be smooth sailing from here on out, but can you always hope. That’s what Christmas is for, after all.  

❅

“Okay! Is everyone ready?” You say, taking your place on the floor in front of the pile of Secret Santa gifts. You honestly feel like you’re going to roll away on the floor if you happen to topple over, your belly full and sated with all the delicious Christmas foods you’ve eaten over the last hours. Jeongguk and Jimin are the first ones to reach your side, each taking up the space next to you as the others settle down in a circle. You’ve been collecting gifts from all over the house, trying your best to keep the whole game as anonymous as possible. You’re about to reach out for the first gift when you remember something you used to do with friends when you were younger, something that make the game a little more exciting.

“Boys, how do you feel about adding a punishment to the game?” Jimin and Hoseok both sit up a little straighter at your words, all the hybrids snapping to attention. The three alphas all share a look, a weird glint in them you haven’t seen before.

“Punishment?” Jeongguk stiffens as the air in the room grows heavier. Maybe that was a poor choice of words.

“Oh no, I meant like a .. penalty? Like if the receiver can figure out who their gift is from, then the giver has to do a penalty?” You say, placing a comforting hand on the bunny hybrid’s knee.

“A penalty is fine,” Jeongguk says, beginning to relax under your touch, “but what would it be?”

“How about the receiver decide the punishment?” Taehyung offers, a lazy smirk on his face as he leans back on his hands, “Wouldn’t that be fair?” You know the fox hybrid always tries to win by whatever means necessary, and that it usually spells trouble for you, but it’s Christmas Eve, so if there was ever a day to indulge Taehyung, this would be it.

“Sure. I don’t mind if the others are okay with it,” You shrug. There’s immediately a small chorus of agreement, and you take that as the go to give out the first present.

“First one is .. Seokjin!” The hamster hybrid takes the present from your hands cautiously, the room falling silent as he unwraps it. Hoseok snorts as he sees the item, the furrow between Seokjin’s eyes disappearing as soon as it shows up.

“Shampoo,” He announces.

“Well?” You prompt when the hamster hybrid places the item behind his back and out of sight, “Who do you think it’s from?” You swear you see the quick flicker of Seokjin’s gaze to Jimin, but it happens so fast you can’t be sure. The cat hybrid still has an easy smile on his face, and there’s nothing in his face that gives him away if he was the one behind Seokjin’s gift.

“I have no idea,” Seokjin shakes his head. “Let’s move on to the next one?”

“Sure,” You try to shake off weird feeling in your gut as you pick up the next gift. There’s no reason for them to pretend they don’t know who gifted them their presents, you must still be stressed after the intense week of work you had before your days off.

“Let’s see .. Namjoon!” The wolf hybrid gives you a bright smile as he takes his present, the grin never leaving his face as he rips through the paper. You notice the bunny hybrid stiffening next to you as Namjoon sees his present, his gray ears twitching slightly.

“A comb,” Namjoon waves it in the air quickly, the motion almost a blur as you only pick up the dark colour before he places it between his crossed legs. The wolf hybrid’s gaze scans quickly around the group before he shrugs, “No clue who it’s from though.”

Jeongguk lets out a small breath of air next to you, and when you think about it, didn’t that blur look similar to the comb the bunny hybrid uses for his ears? Before you can open your mouth to ask, Jimin hands you the next present with a sweet smile. Normally, that would put your worries at ease, but the lazy swishes of the tabby hybrid’s tail just makes you more suspicious. They’re definitely up to something.

The feeling only grows as you work through the presents. The boys casually hide their gifts before you can get a good look at them, and they somehow never know who the giver is, despite it being glaringly obvious whom it’s from with how the other hybrid perks up when their gift is unwrapped. You can’t figure out who gifted you the customized ink pen either, although Namjoon looked particularly proud when you couldn’t wipe the shocked smile off your face.

“This is just what I wanted!” You say. You think you might have mentioned it in passing a while back, but you never expected someone to actually remember it.

“Is it a better Secret Santa gift than the one you got at work?” Hoseok asks. The dog hybrid looks a little anxious, his canines digging into the soft flesh of his lips as his gaze shifts between your face and the gift in your hands.

“Of course it is! Soo-hyun got me an ugly Christmas mug she knew I would hate,” You snort, “There’s no way it could beat this!” You look down at the pen again, just missing the shared expression of relief that crosses the boys’ faces as you admire the sleek black and silver design.

“Anyway, let’s move on to the next gift!” You say. “It’s for .. Yoongi!” You hand the second to last gift to the cat hybrid, Yoongi’s sharp nails slicing through the paper with no trouble.

“A book, wonderful,” He smirks before he places it behind his back. You frown as you see the cover that is all too familiar, is that the book your aunt gifted you those years ago? The heavy atmosphere is back in the room as eight pairs of eyes shift to the last present on the floor. You swallow thickly, trying your best to school your features into something neutral. It’s your gift. And there’s no way you’re going to let him figure out it’s you, not when you were the one to come up with the penalty in the first place.

“Me!” Taehyung exclaims with a boxy grin as he picks up the last gift, his slender fingers carefully opening the paper. The fox hybrid lets out a delighted gasp as he uncovers the console games, his tail swishing wildly behind his back in excitement.

“Thank you Y/n!” Taehyung’s eyes sparkle as he meets your gaze, and the “You’re welcome!” tumbles out before you can stop it. You wince as something mischievous settles in Taehyung’s handsome features, the fox hybrid looking pleased with himself that you managed to slip up.

“How did you know it was me?” You groan.

“You have a tell,” Taehyung says.

You have? .. Crap. “What is it?”

“It’s a secret,” The fox hybrid smirks. Secret Santa was definitely not a hybrid game – the boys had come to realize that as soon as the first gift was handed out. The presents reek of the giver, but of course, that’s not something your human nose would be able to pick up.

“Fine,” You pout, tracing your finger over the pen in your lap, “What’s my penalty?”

The fox hybrid’s face grows serious as his gaze shifts around the room, searching for something to use as your punishment. You can’t help the way your stomach flips with nerves – or is it maybe excitement? – as you wait for him to figure it out. If it’s one thing you’ve come to learn, it’s that these boys are never predictable. Taehyung’s orange ears perk up as his eyes suddenly catch on an item, and Yoongi lets out a low hiss as he follows the fox hybrid’s line of sight. You barely have time to blink before Taehyung springs to his feet to grab your hand, dragging you along with him over to the living room entrance. You suck in a surprised breath as you find yourself standing directly underneath the mistletoe, Taehyung’s hand warm around yours as he gently pulls you a step closer.

“Only if you want to,” He says. Taehyung’s low murmur soothes the nerves prickling under your skin, the obvious fondness on his face easing your fears. The problem isn’t that you don’t want to, it’s that you do. And not just with Taehyung, but with all seven of them.

“It’s okay,” You hesitantly place your hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, the fox hybrid’s muscles jumping under your touch. You spare a glance back the rest of the boys when you notice just how silent the room has become, a flush creeping up your cheeks as you find all six of them staring at the both of you with an intensity you haven’t seen before. You quickly turn your attention back to Taehyung, the fox hybrid’s eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rise up at the tip of your toes.

You ground yourself in Taehyung’s firm grip around your hand, the fox hybrid’s warm breath spilling across your mouth as you lean in closer. Your aim is a little off, the lush dark lashes across Taehyung’s cheekbones distracting you enough that the kiss that was meant for his cheek, ends up at the corner of his mouth instead. When you pull back, you find Taehyung’s wide sparkling eyes already trained on your face, the fox hybrid gazing at your reverently for a few seconds before he dives down to bury his face in your neck.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” You let out a choked giggle at Taehyung’s words, stroking his back affectionately as he tries his best to rub your shared scent back on your skin.

“Me next,” You nearly jump out of your skin as you find Hoseok standing next to you, the rest of the boys lined up behind him with sheepish smiles.

“I thought this was supposed to be a penalty?” You quirk a brow, gently untangling yourself from Taehyung as the dog hybrid begins to move impatiently in place.

“Kissing Taehyung is just nice, it’s not a penalty unless you do it to all of us,” Hoseok whines. You catch Jeongguk nodding his head behind Yoongi’s shoulders, his long ears flopping from the force. Well, you think, what’s the harm?

“Fine,” You usher Taehyung over to the couch, turning back around to face Hoseok. “One mistletoe kiss coming right up.” The dog hybrid practically vibrates out of his skin when your lips touch his cheek, and he doesn’t waste any time mixing his scent like Taehyung had once you pull back.

You can see Namjoon’s silver tail wag behind his back as you place both hands on his shoulders, needing a little extra boost to reach his cheek. A dimple blooms where you delivered a soft peck, and Namjoon briefly touches his cheek against the top of your head before he joins his pack on the couch.

Jimin steps up next, placing his hands behind his back as he offers his cheek with a playful grin. “One penalty please,” He says.

“Of course,” You place your hand on Jimin’s jaw, holding him in place as you kiss his cheek. You catch the slight disappointment in the cat hybrid’s eyes as you pull back, but the gentle touch of your fingertips tracing his jaw is enough to wash it away. Taehyung might be the fox, but Jimin is by far the slyest when it comes to getting what he wants.

“Not yet,” You murmur, taking a step back. Jimin nods, his eyes filled with warm understanding as gently rubs his cheek against your shoulder before he lets Yoongi take his place. The alpha regards you with hooded eyes as you peck his cheek, a faint purr spilling from his chest as he rubs your mixed scent against the opposite shoulder. The soft fur on his ears tickle your throat, and the cat hybrid offers you a low thank you before he steps away.

“You okay?” Jeongguk’s cheeks are bright red as he takes Yoongi's place, but the bunny hybrid hurriedly nods in response. You can almost feel the jittery energy coursing through his body as you step closer, Jeongguk inhaling sharply as your lips make contact with his skin. The bunny hybrid shyly takes your hand in his, bringing it up to rub your wrist against his freshly kissed cheek. Jeongguk hurries off before you can say anything, his tail twitching rapidly behind his back as he joins the rest.

Seokjin has a fond look in his eyes as he steps closer. The hamster hybrid leans down slightly, just enough that his mouth graces you ear as he murmurs, ”You took your punishment well.” You feel plush lips against your cheek before Seokjin pulls back, a knowing smile spreading across his face as your fingers trace the spot he kissed. You stand there a little stunned as Seokjin joins Jeongguk on one of the couches, praying that the hamster hybrid didn’t notice the shiver that bolted down your spine at his words.

You awkwardly clear your throat as you realize they’re all waiting for you to join them, gesturing over to the TV as you say, “Do you want to watch a Christmas movie?” 

You let the boys argue over which movie to watch, quickly putting on your old copy of Home Alone once they’ve decided. You squeeze into the spot between Yoongi and Namjoon on the couch, the two alphas shifting closer the moment you’re settled; their sides flush with yours as you press play on the movie.

As the minutes begin to trickle by, you catch yourself watching the boys more than the colourful screen, a pleasant and comforting warmth spreading through your body as they laugh and giggle at the funny moments. Truthfully, the seven hybrids fill a space you hadn’t even realized was empty. And now – sitting here in your cozy living room with lights twinkling all around, you don’t think there’s anything else you could ever want.

You already have it all right here.

[thisisarcanereverie]

Something ‘Bout You (Biker Natasha x Reader) Chapter 1

A/N: Hey this is a new series! I’ve been meaning to write something for her for a while now so here ya go enjoy! 

MAIN MASTERLIST

MCU MASTERLIST

NATASHA ROMANOFF MASTERLIST

REQUESTS ARE FREE AND ENCOURAGED 

SUMMARY: After Wanda announces her engagement a familiar face returns into your life. 

“(Y/n)!”

You heard the familiar chime of the doorbell and the familiar excited voice of your friend fill the relatively empty store. You whipped your head to her just in time to see her barrelling toward you and captured you in a bone crushing hug. 

“Whoa there Wands,” You said as you returned the hug, “did something happen or are you just that happy to see me?” 

Wanda quickly released you from her vice grip, “oh nothing much happened,” Wanda paused before holding up her left hand, “except this.” On her left hand on her ring finger sat a beautiful vintage ring. 

“Oh my god!” You exclaim smiling as you grab her hand to get a closer look at the ring, it was simple in design but it really suited Wanda. ‘When did this happen?!” 

“Last night,” Wanda reveals happily her smile never deterring, “Vis and I were watching reruns of the Dick Van Dyke Show, I told him how Mary’s ring was beautiful and next thing I know he asks ‘is it as beautiful as this ring’ next thing I know he’s down on one knee with the ring in his hand asking me to marry him.” 

“I’m so happy for you and Vis.” You congrat Wanda as you and her continue to talk about her engagement for a few more minutes. 

“Actually Vis and I were planning on going to the city tonight to celebrate, are you busy?” Wanda asks. You take a quick look at your calendar finding nothing but closing the store on the agenda for tonight. 

“Nope,” You respond, “just have to close the store.” 

“Close early and Vis and I will pick you up,” Wanda said, “We’re bringing Pietro, Steve, Bucky, and Monica with us.” 

You hesitate for a bit, but you take one look into Wanda’s pleading eyes, the same eyes that have gotten you into more than your fair share of trouble since highschool, next thing you know you’re nodding your head in agreement.

Wanda lets out a small squeal before enveloping you once again in a small hug before saying goodbye and that Pietro will pick you up by seven. 

As you continue about your day, stacking books and working the register you start to wonder when the last time you actually had a date was. 

During the slow rush you decide to check your calendar again. You flip through each page until finally you land three months prior where you had plans to meet up with the local coffee barista at some bar you can’t remember the name of. What you do remember is that the date ended with you buying a half quart of ice cream and watching reruns of Gilmore Girls. 

You check the clock and check the store to find it empty. You decide now would probably be a good time to close and to start getting ready for the night in the city with Wanda and the rest. 

You turn the sign on the door to ‘closed’ and push all thoughts of dating to the back of your mind. 

---

You had just slipped your shoes on when you heard Pietro knock on your door in the familiar pattern he’s done since high-school. 

You answer the door to reveal Pietro. You always thought he had looked handsome in that mischievous way. But when he wears that white button up and slacks with his hair gelled back he is a special type of handsome. 

“Well damn don’t we look fancy tonight?” You say as Pietro noticeably checks you out in the same appreciation. You did a small turn in your black dress that fell just mid thigh. 

“And you don’t look too bad yourself Princeza,” Pietro said as he offered his arm in an overdramatic gentlemanly style. Which you responded in kind, laughing slightly as you made sure to lock the door behind you before finally heading out.  

---

You were back in your parents backyard, sitting in that hammock with a book in your hands. Nancy Drew had wormed her way into eleven year old you’s heart, with all of her adventures and detective skills. 

Just as you were about to reach the climax of the book you heard a familiar voice. 

“Whatcha reading today?” You look away from the book and spot a familiar blue haired girl the same age. She was the neighbor that moved in about three years ago, Natasha, who quickly became your best friend. 

“Nancy Drew,”

“Again?”

“There’s more than one Natty.” You responded, next thing you know the book is lifted from your hands and Natasha is hovering over you with the book in her hands. 

“Naaat.” You whine as you try to reach for the book only to have her expertly move it away from you. 

“C’mon,” Natasha says as she makes her way to the bushes separating your yard and hers, “adventure awaits.” 

You struggle a little as you make your way out of your hammock and through the lush bushes to Natasha who slips through the crack in between. 

“Nat,” you warn lightly. 

“I promise I’ll give you the book back,” Natasha promises, “but first we go on an adventure! Grab your bike and meet me out front!” 

“Where exactly is this adventure?” 

“Just grab your bike, chatty cathy!” 

You hear her footsteps rush over to her bike as you rush to yours. 

By the time you let your parents know you’ll be riding your bike and get to the front of your house Natasha is already waiting for you. 

Together you both rode your bikes until finally settling on a clearing near the local park. There was this big oak tree and in front of it a huge rock as well covered in green moss. 

For a while both you and Natasha played by either climbing on the rock and proclaiming yourselves rulers of the land, climbing the tree, playing pretend in the most kid way possible. 

However you would catch glimpses sometimes, you didn’t know what, but it made you worry for her. Like how sad she looked, or scared. 

Finally, after being worn out by playing you both lay on the grass beneath you and watch as the fireflies began to dance around the big oak looking like thousands of moving stars. 

You were enjoying the bit of peace and silence when you felt her hand hold yours. You look over and see the blue haired girl still staring at the millions of fireflies with a smile on her lips. 

“Thank you for being my best friend.” She said gently as you looked away from her and continued watching the fireflies dance, until the sun finally set and it was time to go home. 

She never did give that book back. 

---

“Princeza, we're here.” You hear the familiar accented voice say. You slowly open your groggy eyes to see the glittering lights of the city. 

“How long was I out?” 

“An hour.” 

“So the whole car ride,” You say, you could see Pietro nod from the driver's side, “I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“I was asleep the whole car ride, you were probably bored.” 

“No, I wasn’t bored,” Pietro said, “I know you haven’t been sleeping much because of the store.” 

Here it comes. 

“You need to start working less Princeza,” Pietro continued concerned, “you spend all your waking hours at the store, tending to your books, and life is going to pass you by.” 

“Pietro-” 

“I don’t mean to be harsh or rude,” Pietro quickly added, “it’s just I see you all the time at the store and nowhere else lately. I get that the store is demanding, but just try to make some time for yourself. Promise me?” 

You look at him and can’t refuse. 

“I promise.” 

You can start relaxing tonight. 

---

You came to quickly realize that clubbing really wasn’t your thing. 

A pile of random sweaty bodies ground on each other on the dance floor to music that hurt your eardrums. 

It wasn’t that you were judging anyone for liking this atmosphere, it just wasn’t your cup of tea, you preferred to stay on the sidelines and watch your friends dance. 

And the full bar proved that you weren’t the only one. 

You had looked away for a second to order a beer when you spotted someone familiar. 

It was dark save for the flickering lights that illuminated her every once in a while. You couldn’t place where you knew her but you knew that you knew her. It was in the way she walked with a certain grace and her eyes were sharp enough to cut through you and you imagined her tongue was the same way. 

She must have noticed you staring because the next thing you know she’s staring right at you. Your eyes lock and that’s when it hits you. 

You didn’t recognize her without her blue hair. 

Natasha. 

You panic and turn back to the bar to order that beer you were going to order about five minutes ago. You mentally beat yourself up, if you didn’t look like a creep before you definitely did now. 

You were so busy mentally assaulting yourself that you didn’t notice the redhead sauntering her way to you and sit on the empty barstool next to you. 

“Well if it isn’t Nancy Drew.” 

You turn your head and see Natasha there beside you. Her hair was shoulder length and no longer blue. Now her hair was it’s natural elegant red color, her blue eyes sharper than you remember as well as her cheekbones. You noticed hints of tattoos peeking out from the collar and sleeve of her leather coat. 

“You never did return that book.” 

You both couldn’t help the laugh that erupted. Even though it’s been years somehow it almost feels like no time has passed. 

Almost. 

“So what’ve you been up to?” Natasha asked, “still into books?”

“Uh yeah,” You confirm, “I actually own a bookshop back home.” 

You see Natasha smile from ear to ear before taking a sip of what was your beer now it seems to be adopted by Natasha. 

“That’s so you,” Natasha said before taking another sip from the beer bottle. 

“Well what about you?” You ask, “what have you been up to?” 

You could see the hesitancy in Natasha’s face, just as she was about to answer, however you see a light brown haired male come up beside her. 

“Hey Nat, I hate to interrupt but we got a Budapest situation over here.” Natasha swerved her attention to where he pointed at the blonde who was obviously drunk off her ass putting a six foot tall man into a choke hold. Which you had to admire and be impressed at. 

“I guess that’s my cue Nancy Drew,” Natasha said as she took one last sip from the beer bottle before abandoning it. As she was making her way through the crowd but before she got too far you saw her turn around. 

“What was the name of your bookstore again, Nancy Drew?!” She yelled over the crowd. 

“Oh-um- Summertime Stories!” You call out, you catch a glimpse of something in her eyes before it disappears. 

“I’ll see ya soon Nancy Drew!”  

Oh how right she was.

[ragewerthers]

Run, Run, Run

Merry Christmas @gigglykenma ! I'm your secret Santa this year and I was so excited to get your prompts! Especially when the opportunity to write for Given again was there! I hope that you enjoy the fic, my friend and that you have the merriest of Christmas's :D And I also wanted to thank @ticklygiggles for hosting the Squealing Santa Exchange for another year! -------------- Summary: In an effort to bring some extra holiday cheer to the holiday season, Mafuyu suggests making Christmas cookies. But one small prank leads to a bit of trouble for the red-headed singer. Now all he can do is run, run, run as fast as he can.

A/n: The prompt was for Character A to chase Character B and tickle them and I went with the sweet pairing that is Mafuyu/Uenoyama from 'Given' You can also read on AO3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35936602

Word Count: 2330 ____________

Mafuyu knew he’d made a mistake.

“Get back here you little red-headed gremlin!” Uenoyama’s voice called from down the hall, the sound of the man giving chase only being usurped by Mafuyu’s own heavy breathing as he attempted to get away.

Oh yes. A mistake had absolutely been made. A big, big mistake. However, it didn’t mean he wasn’t absolutely delighted with himself for what he had done even as he ran like a madman through Uenoyama’s apartment, trying to escape the vengeful clutches of his boyfriend.

A boyfriend who currently looked like one of the ghosts who visited Scrooge with the amount of flour he was currently coated in.

It had all started with the want for Christmas cookies and to invoke some Christmas cheer.

To be fair, making the Christmas cookies had been Mafuyu’s idea. Ritsuka had been more than happy to just spend a nice, chilly winter evening watching the Grinch, but Mafuyu knew that all it would take would be some puppy eyes and a wobble of his lower lip and that soon they’d find themselves in the kitchen.

And they had.

And this is what now led to Mafuyu attempting to find the best place to hide.

Now, Uenoyama was by no means a Grinch himself, but Mafuyu thought he could do with a bit more Christmas spirit in his heart. What better way to do that then to envelope him in the joy that was making Christmas cookies?

So obviously the best way to do this was to put him in charge of ingredients.

Eggs, butter, salt, baking soda… flour… all of this Mafuyu had decided he would leave in Uenoyama’s capable hands as he read the instructions and called out what was needed and when.

They had just gotten to the stage where the flour was to be added to the stand mixer on Ritsuka’s counter.

Mafuyu couldn’t tell you what it was exactly that made him do it.

Was it the fact that he was the one in charge of the speed of the mixer?

Was it the look of pure concentration on Uenoyama-kuns face as he slowly and so, so carefully began to add the flour to the bowl?

Perhaps it was his sweet boyfriends face so temptingly close to the bowl that made him do it.

Maybe all three.

But whatever the reason, just as Ritsuka went to dump in another cup of flour, Mafuyu flicked the switch up to high speed and watched as a floury cascade of white shot up out of the bowl, effectively coating his boyfriend in a beautiful dusting of white.

He looked like Frosty the Snowman, or a beautiful Christmas tree freshly coated with snow. The look of surprise on his face just added that extra level of perfection to this moment.

And Mafuyu couldn’t help himself.

He laughed.

And he laughed hard. So hard, in fact, that he missed Uenoyama’s face moving from surprise, to realization, to betrayal and finally… to vengeance.

It wasn’t until he heard one word that he knew… he’d messed up.

“... run.”

And that was why he now found himself trying to hold back his gleeful laughter as he was chased by the world’s angriest looking sugar cookie.

“It was an accident, I swear!” Mafuyu called over his shoulder, glancing back only a second to see Ritsuka barreling after him with a look of floury determination.

However, he knew the grin on his face easily gave him away.

“You lie!” Ritsuka countered as they made it back to the living room, Mafuyu racing around the coffee table in time to keep it between him and Uenoyama.

“Do you really think I would lie? I’m innocent! I’m… I’m an ahangel!” Mafuyu tried to counter, the giggles already starting to work their way free as he watched Grumpy the Snowman trying to figure out how to get to him.

“Oh you’re an angel alright! A fallen one named Lucifer!” Ritsuka shot back, darting to the left and inadvertently drawing a surprised squeak from Mafuyu as he quickly moved with him and dashed behind the sofa. Sadly it wasn’t enough to deter his boyfriend who quickly clambered onto the piece of furniture in an attempt to hurdle over it.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Mafuyu squeaked out, his smile wide as he watched his partner while trying to back away slowly with one arm raised defensively between them. “Don’t you feel the holiday spirit? That was the goal and it was achieved, right?”

Mafuyu watched as Uenoyama tried not to react to the comment though a smile did seem to break free. But soon the other man was schooling his features back into a playful scowl as he stood with one foot on the back of the sofa and his gaze cast down on his boyfriend. “Don’t try being cute with me! First you lure me into making your cookies and then you try to make me one of them instead! What do I look like to you?”

Mafuyu knew he should’ve chosen his words more carefully. Really he should’ve, but he could feel the answer bubbling out of him before he could stop himself.

“A gihihingerbread man?” he giggled, biting his lower lip to stop the laughter, but it was too late. His shoulders were already shaking with mirth again.

Uenoyama, for his part, actually looked taken aback by having an answer so easily tossed back his way. But soon a devious little smile appeared as he raised his arms up, fingers making claws as he narrowed his eyes.

“Then you better run, run, run as fast as you can. You can’t escape me…,” he warned, letting a heavy pause fall between them before chaos erupted and he launched himself over the back of the sofa. ”I’m the gingerbread man!”

Mafuyu let out what most certainly didn’t sound like a horror movie scream as he turned tail and fled toward the hallway once more. Sadly, it was too little too late as he soon found two strong arms wrapped around his middle and was picked up with ease, his boyfriend starting to carry him back toward the sofa.

“N-no! Uenoyama-kuhuhun! You’re gehehetting my sweater all dihihirty!” he warned, feeling Ritsuka gasp behind him as he attempted and failed to break free with the intensity of his giggles already taking over.

“Who is this Uenoyama you speak of? I’m the gingerbread man! And you want to talk about dirty sweaters?! I’ll show you dirty sweaters!” Uenoyama growled playfully against Mafuyu’s back as he nuzzled between his shoulder blades, wiping off his floury face and making Mafuyu shimmy in his hold at the slightly ticklish sensation.

“No! N-no, Ritsukahaha! Dohohon’t be mehean!” Mafuyu laughed, trying to arch away from the touch, only to feel the arms around him tighten a bit more.

“I told you! There’s no Ritsuka here! I’m the gingerbread man and I am here to take sweet, cookie vengeance!” he warned.

Before Mafuyu could think he felt his boyfriends arms tightening around him slightly as his fingers began to wriggle against his sides.

Instantly Mafuyu’s giggles doubled, his body attempting to wriggle free from Ritsuka’s tickly clutches even as he was held aloft.

“I dohohon’t deserve thihihis!” he cried out, only to find himself gently tossed onto the sofa. He tried to sit up, but was quickly pinned down by his ridiculous boyfriend as Uenoyama settled himself on his hips, his fingers beginning a poking assault all over his torso.

“Oh you deserve this and so much more, my sweet and evil little gumdrop!” Uenoyama warned, though the smile on his face was far less devious than before.

Mafuyu couldn’t help the ridiculous squeal that bubbled up as Ritsuka’s poke attack. His hands clumsily attempted to catch his boyfriends wrists as they darted around from sides to ribs to stomach and back again. Eventually he managed to grab a hold of him, but the continued laughter was already turning his muscles to mush and he knew he was as weak as a newborn kitten in this state.

The only thing he could try to do was attempt to make Uenoyama see reason! Surely if he understood the sound judgment that went into his prank his boyfriend would absolutely understand!

“B-But it wahahahas funny-hehehe! It h-had… it hahahad to be do-AHAHA! NO! Dohohon’t you dahahAHAHA!” Mafuyu arched off the sofa, his head tossed back with hysterical laughter as Ritsuka’s fingers scribbled all along his sides. Quickly and lightly driving him insane with the softest tickles. He’d always been weak against his sides and now Uenoyama was taking full advantage of that. His hands still continued to hold onto Uenoyama’s wrists, but really there was no stopping this now and he knew it.

“It had to be done?! Tell that to my new black tshirt!” Ritsuka shot back, though he wasn’t even attempting to hide his playful smile now as he continued to lovingly tickle his boyfriend to pieces.

“Y-You wehehehear too much BLAHAHAHACK! NOT THEHEHEHERE! RIHIHITUSKAHAHA!” Mafuyu cried out, attempting to curl up and clamp his arms down as Uenoyama went for his best and worst spot. His evil boyfriend’s hands had darted up under his arms and were focusing in on the very centers of his far too ticklish underarms. Ritsuka’s fingers massaged deep circles right into the spots he knew drove Mafuyu the wildest, making him buck and kick his legs out at the heavily ticklish touch.

“What? What was that? I told you I’m the gingerbread man! And if you’re going to plead your case you have to speak up!” Ritsuka teased, though Mafuyu was a bit too lost in the electrically ticklish feeling zipping through his body as his armpits were targeted.

Mafuyu opened his mouth to retort, but the only thing that came out was heavier belly laughter as Ritsuka switched from massaging to spider tickling as much as he could with his hands trapped under his sweethearts arms.

“What? What was that? Did you have to say something? Is it that you’re far too ticklish for your own good to pull silly pranks like this?” Ritsuka teased, letting his thumbs sneak down a bit to wriggle against Mafuyu’s upper ribs and making the red-head shriek as his flailing legs managed to kick the throw pillows off onto the floor.

“I-I GIHIHIHIVE! I GIHIHIVE! TRUHUHUHUCE, GIHIHIHIHIHINGY!” Mafuyu cried out through his wild laughter, his cheeks rosy and tears of mirth on his eyelashes.

He heard the soft chuckle of his boyfriend before finally feeling the way Uenoyama’s fingers slowed down their ticklish attack. He didn’t stop completely though, as he still continued to lightly scribble against Mafuyu’s armpits, keeping him in a giggle fit that was mixed with small twitches and snorts.

“Gingy? Is that what you called me?” Ritsuka cooed, making Mafuyu blush as he realized he’d given in to the ridiculous persona Uenoyama had taken up.

“Y-yehehes… you… you cohohookie monsteheheher!” he squeaked out through slightly breathless giggles as Uenoyama finally stopped the tickles.

“You deserved my swift retribution. If anyone is a monster here it’s you,” Uenoyama murmured softly, ducking down to press a soft kiss to Mafuyu’s lips as he lightly soothed some of his hair away from his forehead. As he leaned back, Mafuyu watched as Ritsuka’s eyes lit up with mirth again. An expression he had seen before when he looked ridiculous in one way or another.

“W-what? What is it?” he stuttered, already feeling a blush creep up when Uenoyama chuckled softly.

“Nothing. It’s just… you look like a wild man with your hair all puffy like this. You were shaking your head so much it’s gotten all… staticy. It’s adorable. Oh. And now your cheeks seem to be getting more flushed to-GAH!”

Mafuyu blushed more at that and shook his head, reaching up to quickly wrap his arms around his boyfriend to pull him down on top of him, flour and all, so he could hide.

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re going to get all dusty!” Ritsuka laughed even as Mafuyu managed to hide himself away against his shoulder.

“S’fine. Need to hide. Being too sweet,” he mumbled, soon feeling the soft brush of fingers through his messy hair.

“Well what else did you expect from the gingerbread man?” Uenoyama murmured, though he snuggled down more, allowing Mafuyu to find whatever sort of comfort he needed for his blush to calm down.

“Still think it was funny,” Mafuyu mumbled, feeling the way Ritsuka’s huffed out a long suffering, but loving breath of laughter.

“Of course you do. Because you’re a menace. Even though people think you’re a sweet little angel. I know better,” he teased, making Mafuyu snicker as he finally peeked out from his hiding place, his flush only slightly visible now. Though it might’ve been due to the flour now coating his face.

“Maybe this can be our new holiday tradition?” Mafuyu teased lightly, reaching up to ruffle Ritsuka’s floury hair and allowing for more of the flour to fall between them. “Christmas cookie escapades!”

Uenoyama ducked his head at the ruffles, laughing at his ridiculous darling before giving a little playful growl and sending a few quick scribbles up his boyfriends side making him shriek and giggle brightly.

“Then you’d better be prepared for the gingerbread man to show up again!” Ritsuka cooed, blowing a raspberry against Mafuyu’s neck and making him squeal as he hunched up his shoulders.

The attack ended almost as soon as it began, however, Mafuyu’s smiling softly as he caught the loving look in his boyfriend's eyes.

“Sounds good to me,” he murmured, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Ritsuka’s nose and making his boyfriend blush this time. “Merry Christmas, Uenoyama-kun.”

Ritsuka’s face flushed instantly before a warm smile appeared and he ducked down to press a soft kiss to his imp of a boyfriend.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Mafuyu.”

“Uenoyama-kun?”

“Yes, Satou?”

“I still want cookies.”

[amjustagirl]

Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi's heart has always pointed north. He wonders if it's broken when it starts to point inexorably towards her. 

Set in the aftermath of The Astrophile, in the same universe as Storm Chaser.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi / f! reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, romance 

Wordcount: 7.8k 

Masterlist link here

A/N: Dedicated first and foremost to Ami @softsakusa, one of the first people to convince that my writing isn’t shit and that I should keep creating fics. 

This fic is also for all the readers who wanted a happy ending for the reader in The Astrophile (which sets out the backstory of the reader, Iwaizumi and Oikawa), and also follows the events of Storm Chaser (which follows the turbulent relationship of Miya Atsumu and now wife - I named her Kaiyo in this fic to avoid confusion!). 

Hope you like it - reblogs and comments are always dearly appreciated <3

It must be the worst meet cute of all time. 

That is – if he’s using that phrase correctly. It keeps appearing in the god-awful English movies Bokuto and Miya keep playing during team movie nights that makes him want to tear his hair out. 

But yes, he meets her at Miya Shino’s seventh birthday party, the birthday girl the apple of Miya Atsumu’s eye, the princess of his castle, the most perfect angel in the entire heavens - the list of pet names growing longer and longer the more the obnoxious setter prattles on about his daughter. 

And apparently Miya Shino is a chip off the old block, and is as obsessed with volleyball as her father. Which means that he, one Sakusa Kiyoomi, is forced to turn up on a Saturday afternoon for a birthday party to teach a group of children roughly about the same height as his kneecaps how to play volleyball. 

There are plenty of other MSBY players that Miya Atsumu could have rounded up to fritter away a Saturday afternoon. Hinata, for instance - the sunny, fiery headed opposite hitter a perennial favourite with young fans. Or Inunaki - the liberio has an amiable personality that he certainly wouldn’t mind snot nosed children hanging off his arms like a walking, talking monkey bar. But no, Hinata is apparently busy on a weekend meditation retreat, and Inunaki is at his sister’s wedding party, so both of them managed to escape this travesty of a birthday party. 

That leaves him with Bokuto who’s practically a child himself, beaming, bumping balls at screaming children with one hand, the other hand lifting another child above his head. Meian’s here too but his own kid is somewhere in this gaggle of monsters anyway, so he’s here to carry out his parental duties – hopefully his presence might balance the sheer chaos he’s sure he’s about to face.   

‘Omi-omi you made it!’ Atsumu greets him with a slap to the back. 

Sakusa resists the urge to bare his teeth. Is this what hell is? Screeching gremlins underfoot, the nauseating smell of fried food permeating the air. 

And it’s probably because he’s still in a horrified daze at the situation he’s put himself in (which Atsumu is either too dense to pick up on or already immune due to the series of similar expressions he pulls at him on a daily basis), Atsumu manages to snap a party hat on his head, before he prances off in victory. 

Sakusa snarls, ripping off the red paper hat off his head. 

Why on earth did he agree to this again? 

‘Sakusa-san! Thank you so much for coming!’ 

His glare softens by a fraction. 

Miya Kaiyo, Atsumu’s long suffering wife approaches him, careful not to touch him, waving at him instead. He appreciates her thoughtfulness, so he thaws a little, giving her a slight nod in greeting. 

Right, she’s the reason why he’s here. 

He’s always been fond of her - competent, patient, intelligent, far too good for her idiot of a husband. Approximately a year ago, he sought her professional help with his accounts. He graduated with a business degree from Chuo University, so he can tell there is obviously something fishy that his manager is pulling with his finances, but the accounting courses he took weren’t in depth to pinpoint the problem. Miya Kaiyo, on the other hand, a trained forensic accountant with a nose like a bloodhound for fraudulent accounts, nailed down the problem within a week. So when she asked him after a game whether he’d be free to attend her daughter's birthday party, he hadn’t been able to turn her down. 

‘It was no problem’, he says stiffly, already itching to spray the whole place down with disinfectant. ‘I’m glad to be here.’ 

Kaiyo laughs at his obvious lie, tugging at his sleeve to seat him in a corner. ‘You don’t have to go play with the kids if you didn’t want to! I invited you so we could catch up, and besides, I did want to introduce you to someone.’ 

‘Hm.’ 

He doesn’t try to mask his reluctance this time. Kaiyo means well, he knows, but between her and his mother, he’s tired of having to fend off match making attempts. It’s not like he can’t get a date – he can and he has, it’s just difficult to find someone willing to put up with his prickly personality and busy schedule.

‘Well she’s not here yet, so you’ll have to wait. And while we’re waiting, tell me how’ve things been, Sakusa-san?’ 

Grateful that he’s not going to be forced into shepherding children into playing anything remotely resembling an actual volleyball match (he suspects he might have more luck teaching cats how to do the conga), he settles into his seat, mouth stretching into something resembling a smile. He lets her chatter about work, and they’re deep in a discussion about his plans post-volleyball (because he can feel the countdown on his career in his creaking bones, his aching sinews)  when Atsumu swoops in on him again, like a vulture seeking easy prey. 

‘What’cha doin’ with my wife, Omi-omi’, he slips a hand around Kaiyo’s waist mock possessively. 

She swats at him. He ducks, raising his hands in surrender. 

‘I enjoy talking to an actual adult sometimes, ‘Tsumu!’ 

‘Oh come on, I already have to share you with ‘Samu most of the time, now you’re leaving me for Omi-kun?!’

‘Dramatic ass.’ 

‘Please, you chose to marry me.’ He crows, flipping his hair. He looks ridiculous, he always does. Kaiyo seems to agree - 

‘And I wonder why sometimes.’ She retorts, Atsumu squawking indignantly at her response, hair ruffling like an offended chick. But Kaiyo ruins the effect of her words by laughing, leaning over to affectionately peck her husband on the cheek. 

Sakusa should be annoyed by this display of childishness, but for some inexplicable reason, a frisson of longing bubbles in his chest instead. It’s strange. Marriage or even serious relationships have never been something he’s actively sought. After all, it always seemed horrendously illogical to put all your eggs in one basket and hope nothing trips up – but his heart pays his mind no mind, and the strange sensation continues to trickle down his throat into his chest. 

He makes up an excuse to slip to the bathroom for a tactical retreat from this madness. 

Then he takes a breath. 

Rinse. Lather hands with soap. Rinse. Repeat again .

Familiar motions, bred out of a desire to do things right, transformed into an unbreakable habit. Cold water, washing away soap bubbles.

Right. Now he’s ready for another plunge off the deep end . 

He’s a foot past the threshold of the community hall where the party is being held when Miya Shino darts towards him. She’s very clearly her father’s daughter with his penchant for mischief because she dives between his legs, making him stumble in confusion. Then Meian Shugo’s eldest son Makoto barrels towards him, intent on reaching the ball held aloft in Shino’s hands. 

Athletic reflexes be damned in the face of a pair of hell-spawn. 

‘Shino!’. Kaiyo shouts. 

‘Makoto!’ Meian thunders. 

Sakusa flails, decidedly without grace, and in his attempt at not squashing the two little devils, he manages to do something even  worse . 

Much, much worse. 

He manages to trip over his feet and bump right into the woman Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to (this, he finds out later). It’s a lost cause – he’s six foot two of pure muscle, dwarfing her by a mile, and she’s carrying a huge box in her hand. 

He ends up face planting directly into her chest. 

His brain short circuits at the feeling of plush softness and vanilla and – , 

‘Woah - Omi-omi, never thought I’d have to defend the honour of my cousin in law’, Atsumu laughs.  

The sudden flare of irritation at Atsumu’s words kickstarts his brain back into gear. Rearing back in alarm, he promptly topples over onto his butt. 

‘Uncle ‘kusa, I’m sorry’ Shino screeches, distraught. Makoto merely snivels. Kaiyo is evidently the only one with working brain cells, because she rushes over to help them up.  

The-woman-with-the-mysterious-box makes Kaiyo take the box first. It holds precious cargo - Shino’s birthday cake, he later finds out, but because she manages to cling on to it with admirable tenacity, it emerges more or less intact. Then she turns to him, still sprawled on the floor. He scoots away, still dazed. 

She offers him a steady hand. ‘Hello’, she says. ‘It seems we’ve gotten off to rather a bad start.’

There is a hint of mirth in her voice, but her eyes are kind.  

He takes her hand with a rare smile. 

Miya Kaiyo grins behind the cake box. It turns out her daughter is a better matchmaker than either her or (heaven forbid) her husband. 

It turns out that Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to her cousin, newly moved to Osaka from Tokyo. She’s a sports journalist, used to cover volleyball even, but for some reason their paths never crossed. She too, is tired of her cousin’s well intentioned meddling, but asks him if he’d like to meet her for dinner one day ‘if only to get Kaiyo off her back, because she’s persistent’, and funnily enough, he agrees. 

He doesn’t mind making a new friend, he reasons. She seems decent enough. 

They go out for dinner on a Tuesday night. She doesn’t complain when he tells her that due to his diet planned by MSBY’s nutritionist, most restaurants are off limits. Instead, she asks intelligent questions about whether the sources of protein and fibre he’s relying on are varied enough, even suggesting alternatives like tempeh, a Southeast Asian soy product. 

He appreciates that. 

She doesn’t also fawn over the fact that he’s a professional athlete. That makes sense, considering she’s probably interviewed dozens, if not hundreds of individuals who are just like him. It’s nice - he’s tired of groupies who start dates off by staring at him starry eyed, but ending it with disappointment in their eyes when they discover that he’s just a guy who practices hitting balls enough to do it for a living. And best of all, she doesn’t mind that their conversation sometimes wanes into silence. She doesn’t seem to feel the need to fill empty spaces with inane drivel, nor expect him to entertain her like a circus animal. 

He likes that. 

So when the night ends, he asks her whether she’d like to have dinner with him again. ‘Just as friends’, he’s quick to clarify. 

‘Sure’, she nods, and they bid each other goodnight.  

They start having dinner every Tuesday night, subject to their erratic schedules. 

He enjoys her company. She’s thoughtful, bringing him home made baked goods like zucchini cake (low sugar, of course), sneaking him chocolate scones for his cheat days after she discovers his hidden sweet tooth. She’s considerate too, never blinking an eye at his compulsive need to make sure everything is just in order, even if the waitress stands behind them aghast when he insists on using disinfectant to wipe down their table. She doesn’t even call him paranoid when he passes her a bottle of sanitizer. 

Slowly, he finds himself confiding in her about things he’d maybe only tell his cousin, Motoya. Or at least, the things he would tell Motoya if the guy would only pick up his calls. 

‘Sorry’, Motoya texts back after a couple of missed calls. ‘ Practice has been brutal recently. 

In a remarkable display of restraint, Sakusa does not point out that EJP Raijin is below MSBY in this season’s rankings. 

So he tells her instead about how he’s contemplating retirement, how he’s trying to chart out his next steps career wise. She surprises him by listening to him gravely, pointing out that he can lean on his business degree to possibly land an office job in event management or with sports associations, putting him in touch with one overly excited Kuroo Tetsuro. He tucks her suggestions away carefully at the back of his mind.��  

It’s nice to have a friend, he tells himself, his lips quirking ever so slightly when her hand grazes his as they walk down the street together. 

He invites her to the monthly gatherings that the MSBY players take turns to host for their family and friends, making the excuse that he needs a human shield in any event hosted by Miya Atsumu. She agrees easily, perking up at the chance to spend a Sunday afternoon with her cousin and niece - ‘ and Kaiyo’ll need help, especially since she’s pregnant’, bringing far too many cupcakes topped with the lightest, fluffiest cream cheese frosting he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. Even Miya Osamu gives her a nod of respect after stuffing his face full of her cupcakes.  He, unlike his twin, has good taste.

Her brow furls into a concerned frown when he quietly sneaks himself a second cupcake. ‘You don’t have to force yourself to eat it just to be polite! I made it, so  I  know it has so much sugar and butter it would make your nutritionist weep. If you want, I snuck some zucchini cake in my handbag for you instead.’ 

He stubbornly shovels a large bite into his mouth. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’ 

She bursts into laughter, leaning forward to wipe away the smudge of frosting on the tip of his nose with her thumb. 

Miya Kaiyo shoots him a knowing look across the room, waggling her eyebrows in an eerie imitation of her husband. He fights to keep his face blank, refusing to feed her satisfaction, but fails, a hot flush rising in his cheeks. 

‘Traitor’ he mouths at her. Her smirk only deepens.

Fortunately, the gathering ends with no further mishaps, either to his physical well-being or his dignity. Makoto is packed off with Meian, the little boy whining for more time to play with Shino. Hinata and Bokuto prance off for some ridiculous buffet on the other side of town.

As for himself, he hangs back with her to help the Miyas put their house back in order, expelling an amused puff of a laugh from his nose when she forces the very pregnant Kaiyo to ‘stay still, for goodness sake!’  on the couch, dancing around the house with a mop, Shino trailing after her waving a feather duster with gusto. He refrains from telling the little girl that she’s more likely to spread  the dust than to actually clear it – at least she’s not causing more havoc this way. 

‘I can’t believe I could’ve ever taken this for granted, y’know’, Atsumu comments from behind him, mouth wide in a tender smile. ‘It’s the best feeling in the world to have a wife and kid who loves ya to the moon and back, welcoming ya home after a long day at work. They make everything worth it.’

He’s thrown for a loop at this rare display of emotional vulnerability from the usually obnoxious setter and for once, does not resort to hostility, choosing instead to acknowledge the blonde setter’s words with a tacticum nod. 

The Miyas’ apartment is far too chaotic for his tastes, with colourful toys scattered on the floor, mismatched picture frames of the little family on the walls, but laughter hangs in the air, and light spills from the windows, illuminating the warmth and love and fondness in every look and word the Miyas gift each other. 

His father gave him a compass when he was a child, as a present to celebrate his first match. His mother clucked her tongue because it’s a strange gift for a child - delicate, fiddly, its gold exterior tarnished with age. But his father chuckled and told him that he’s old enough to appreciate that the compass is his father’s, and his father’s father before that, an heirloom to remind their sons to work hard at everything they do, and to keep their hearts on course, pointing north. 

And Sakusa thinks he’s done that. He’s worked and worked and worked at perfecting his skills in his chosen sport. He’s accepted his solo course, so laser focused on carving out a career in professional sports leaves little time or space for intimate relationships. Not to mention the fact that watching the disaster of Atsumu’s early years of marriage from the sidelines, made him swear off similar heartbreak for himself. 

But there are times when he can’t help but feel a little lonely - when he has to struggle to find a date for MSBY events, when he has no one to celebrate the holidays with, when he goes home every day to his neat, cold apartment with space for only one occupant. 

The compass in his heart creaks. It starts to turn a few degrees just off-course. 

‘Do you ever wonder what it’d be like to get married?’ he asks her as he’s walking her home that night. 

‘I did, once upon a time’, she shrugs carelessly. He misses the sudden strain in her smile. ‘Why do you ask?’ 

He stays silent for a while, the length of the quiet street giving him time to properly ferment his response. He considers the effects of adding splashes of colour to his dull life, weighs it against his long cultivated instinct to avoid the potential chaos of any emotional entanglements. He finds himself suddenly craving the sweetness of cream cheese frosting, and wonders how it’d be like to come home to light, fluffy cakes baked by her hands. 

When they reach her apartment block, she tilts her head at him curiously, obviously awaiting his answer. He tugs his words together, strings his swirling thoughts into a decipherable sentence. 

‘Because Atsumu and Kaiyo seem happy together. And I wondered if we’d be happy together too.’ 

He watches her puzzle over his words, her brow furling into a confused frown. ‘And I wasn’t proposing, by the way’, he feels the need to clarify. 

She snorts. ‘I didn’t think so.’ With a directness that he very much appreciates, she looks at him squarely and asks - ‘Are you asking me out, Sakusa Kiyoomi?’ 

He meets her gaze. ‘Yes, I am. We’ve known each other for a decently long time for me to conclude our personalities are well matched, and we’re both mature adults who respect each other’s work schedules and commitments. And if you don’t mind that I can be overly blunt and quiet sometimes - ‘ 

‘ - which I don’t’, she interjects, with a chuckle. 

‘I think we might be happy together’, he concludes, with a small smile that’s becoming more common in her presence.

He allows her the space to turn his proposition over in her mind. 

‘Alright’, she finally says. ‘I guess we can give it a go’. 

So much for Atsumu accusing him of having a heart made out of tin. Flesh and muscle works overtime to pump blood into his cheeks as she slots her fingers between his and gives his hand a squeeze. 

Being in a relationship isn’t too different from what they had before. 

They still keep to their standing date to meet every Tuesday (schedules permitting, of course). But now he doesn’t have to make up excuses to ask her out on outings that aren’t food related. At first he tries his best to adhere to dating norms, arranging for romantic dates at candlelit restaurants, buying her massive bouquets that make her sneeze. 

‘It’s fine, Omi’, she tells him gently after they spend another uncomfortable evening in a dimly lit restaurant eating off plates too large for the laughably tiny food portions. ‘I’m happy just hanging out with you. You don’t have to go out of your way to impress me, I’m not holding on to any ridiculous expectations of you’. He stops after that, glad he doesn’t have to suffer another night trying to decipher which utensil to be used at which course, or having to put on starched formal wear to yet another stuffy restaurant. 

She’s noticeably happier when they accompany each other on trips to the supermarket, each holding a stack of coupons to take advantage of the latest deals. She shields him from any overly zealous obaa-sans with gusto, throwing elbows and using her grocery basket as a makeshift battering ram before they crowd close enough to him to trigger his anxiety. He helps her reach for things on the top shelf ‘to prevent her from scaling the grocery shelves like an overgrown teenager’ , he snarks. He’s worried his attempt at teasing lands wrong, but she snorts and thanks him good naturedly anyways. 

On the weekends, they develop a habit of meal prepping for the rest of the week at her apartment. His kitchen lacks the fancy mixers and blenders that she has, and in all honesty, his dark, spartan apartment lacks the sunlight and warmth that spills into her apartment from the windows, so it’s only logical that they should spend the bulk of their time there. It’s an oasis of calm for him, chopping vegetables and chicken into small cubes, sautéing them for the week ahead, while she bustles around whipping eggs and flour and milk together to form another delectable cake that they always end up sharing at the end of the day. 

He starts to dread matches away from home a little more than he used to. While hotel rooms are as spartan as his own apartment, he doesn’t have the option of heading over to her apartment to bask in her quiet warmth. His meals come in styrofoam boxes instead of the glass tupperware she stacks on her kitchen counter, and he turns up his nose at store bought cakes that his teammates offer him, only craving for those baked in her oven. He even starts looking up to the stands for a glimpse of her, only to remember that she can’t be there to cheer the team on. 

‘Cheer up, Omi-omi! We’ll have a home match next week’, Atsumu tells him jovially. 

‘It doesn’t matter either way to me’, he mutters resentfully, but the setter only grins.

‘Trust me, it matters a great deal to have the girl ya love cheering ya on, y’know?’ 

He stalks off to the changing room, ignoring the peals of laughter from the blonde annoyance he leaves in his wake.  

The tight coil of loneliness only loosens when he sees her waiting for him at the station when he returns. She ignores his protests to snag his suitcase away from him, the case looking comically large against her small frame, but she uses it effectively as a tank to force a path through the crowd, and drag him back to her apartment in no time. 

‘You need a home cooked dinner to make up for all those industrially prepared food you must’ve been eating this entire week’, she tells him, bustling around the kitchen, only stilling when he takes her shoulders in his hands. 

‘Are you happy?’ he asks, when he cups her face to carefully brush the dusting of flour on her cheek away.  

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ She laughs, the sound fond.

‘Just checking in’, he tells her, closing his eyes as she pulls him down towards her for a kiss. 

All in all, it’s a happy, uncomplicated relationship. He likes it that way.

If his heart were a compass, he’d suspect it’s broken because instead of pointing north, it starts to inch inexorably towards her. 

But there are strange quirks he notices about her that niggles at his brain. 

She refuses point blank to check out the planetarium when she attends an event held at the adjacent Art Museum as his date, professing to have an irrational dislike for stars. 

‘They’re just balls of burning gas and light ’ , he points out. ‘What could you possibly have against them?’ 

There’s a flicker of irritation in her eyes that he does not miss. ‘I know it’s stupid but just humour me, ok?’ Her tone verges on a snarl, before she storms away, ostensibly to the bathroom to freshen herself up. 

She returns later with an apology for her behaviour. Though he’s confused, he respects her privacy and does not push for an answer. 

He’s at her apartment preparing meals for the week ahead when the doorbell rings and an enormous bouquet of white lilies are deposited into her arms. She stares dumbly at the flowers, their sickly sweet scent permeating the air. 

His brow furls. ‘Today isn’t your birthday, is it?’

His words jolt her out of her trance. ‘No’, she answers, before inexplicably storming to the living room and dumping the bouquet with a vengeance on the coffee table. Pollen flutters to the floor, delicate white petals crushed in her hands. 

‘It’s nothing’, she tells him as he shoots her a questioning look. 

When she disappears to the washroom, he peeks at the card. There’s no name on it, just a simple message - ‘consider it, please?’

He doesn’t question her about it when she returns to the kitchen. She doesn’t offer him any answers either. 

He finds himself wondering about them. 

It was refreshing at first to have a relationship free of any expectations. She never asks for more than he’s willing to give, seems happy enough to slot herself into the pockets of time he offers, only attends his games when he gives her tickets, doesn’t get upset with him when he inevitably forgets to text. 

But therein lies the issue, doesn’t it?  

If she truly likes him, wants to pursue a relationship seriously with him, shouldn’t she be demanding more than the crumbs of affection and attention he shows her? They’re both past the age of thirty, shouldn’t she be looking to get married and settle down, maybe spawn a demon child or two? 

He’s tried raising it with her once, but she responded with confusion. 

‘I don’t have any expectations of you, Omi’, she’d replied. ‘We both have busy lives, so whatever you’re willing to give, I’m happy to take’. 

There’s technically nothing wrong about her answer. It’s wholly considerate and kind - very much her.  

Still, it makes him wonder - if her heart were a compass, would it point towards him? 

He manages to hold his tongue until she gets another delivery of flowers. 

This time he opens the door when the doorbell rings, assaulted by the heady scent of lillies, pollen smeared on his sleeves. This time, there’s a name on the card. 

Oikawa Tooru . 

It takes a couple of seconds for him to realise why the name is so familiar. It’s the same name Hinata and Kageyama used to buzz about every Olympics - the famous Argentinian setter who started his career as a schoolboy from Miyagi, a prodigious setter who never made it to Nationals in high school, refused to give up and forged his way to success in a whole new land, continents away.

‘How do you know Oikawa’? He asks her. ‘And why does he keep sending your flowers?’ 

‘He’s just an old acquaintance,’ she admits. ‘He’s just sending the flowers to persuade me to attend his wedding.’

His forehead crinkles in confusion, and he tries his best not to leap to conclusions, but since she doesn’t seem to be forthcoming with further clarification, he presses her further. 

‘And why won’t you attend his wedding?’ 

Her shoulders slouch in obvious reluctance as she turns away, focusing her attention on the mixing bowl. But Kiyoomi isn’t easily deterred, so he firmly takes the mixing bowl from her and sets it on the countertop. He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly seeking an answer. 

She huffs a sigh through her nose. ‘Because he’s getting married to my ex-boyfriend, ok?’   

He blinks. That was unexpected. 

‘It happened half a decade ago. Ancient history. I’m over it.’ She mutters to the floor. 

‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’ 

‘Because it’s none of your business’, she snaps, grabbing the mixing bowl again, beating the batter with a vengeance. 

‘You’re going to ruin the texture if you whisk it too hard’, he tugs the bowl away from her again. She refuses to relinquish her grip.

‘Leave me alone!’ she snarls, yanking the bowl back. Confused by her sudden fury, he lets go of the bowl, only for her to stumble back, eyes wide as she loses her balance, knocking her head against the countertop.

He drops down onto his knees, not even noticing the batter soaking into his pants, combing through her hair, scouring the back of her neck for any sign of injury. It’s only when he’s satisfied that her fall has resulted in nothing more than a bruise that should go away by tomorrow that he notices her tears soaking the front of his shirt. 

‘Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?’ he asks, wiping her tears away with a batter splattered thumb. 

She hangs her head, body still shaking from her sobs. ‘I’ve already made such a mess of things – don’t want you to have to listen to my nonsense – am just bein’ stupid, that’s all - ’. 

He patiently waits until her sobs dissolves into mere sniffles before speaking. ‘I want you to tell me what’s wrong. If you’re up to it.’ 

So through more broken sobs and hiccups, he listens to the tale of Iwaizumi Hajime, a boy who was her world, who only realised he was always in love with Oikawa Tooru, a fortnight before she and he were to wed. Her voice wavers as she tells him the full story of the white lilies, explains that her irrational dislike for stars stems from the reminder that she chose to give her world up to a boy-king burning brighter than the stars in the night sky combined. 

He waits until her words run out, and she’s leaning against him, broken and pliant in a way that makes his heart ache. 

‘I wish you told me about it earlier’, he tells her, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear. ‘That you would trust me enough to tell me about the things that hurt you in the past. And I wonder about the state of our relationship if you don’t even trust me enough for that’. 

‘That’s unfair. You never asked - ‘ 

‘How could I ask about something I didn’t even know about?’ He takes hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Hurt and anger and shock simmer in her eyes, each swirl of emotion fighting for dominance. 

‘I didn’t want to expect anything more from this relationship than you were willing to give’, she admits after a pause. 

She’s scared of being hurt again. He doesn’t miss the subtext.  

‘Shall I tell you what I want from you then? I have a list, if you’re willing to hear me out’ he asks, with a smile that’s growing more common the more time he spends around her. 

She nods, but keeps her gaze stubbornly on the ground. 

He takes his time to choose his words. He’s never been verbose - not like Atsumu or Bokuto or even easygoing Motoya, choosing to only say what is strictly necessary, using the precise amount of words, nothing more, nothing less. But this is a situation that requires more emotion rather than precision, so he inhales a shaky breath, letting it fuel the sentiment in his heart as he exhales. 

‘First. I want you to trust that I’ll never hurt you like he did’, he says, and with a self-deprecating smile he adds - ‘I don’t have any childhood friends to be secretly in love with besides Motoya, and I’m hardly going to be pining after my flake of a cousin’. 

That triggers the corners of her lips to tilt upwards, and encouraged, he carries on.    

‘Second. I want you to be open with me about what you want - your dreams, your expectations of me. I want to hear them all because  you’re important to me.’

That makes her flush pink, and she sneaks a glance up towards him. 

‘Third. I want to wake up each morning with you by my side and come home to you every night. I want to watch you fight cranky old ladies in the supermarket in my honour, be the first person to taste test all your baking experiments - even the failed ones that are only fit to feed Atsumu. I want us to be happy together. Forever, if possible.’

He lifts her bodily into his lap, brushes his nose against her cheek. ‘Now that I’ve told you what I’m willing to give, is that too much for you to take?’ he murmurs against her lips. 

Her blush blossoms into a deep scarlet, but her eyes are iridescent pools of startled delight. She doesn’t speak, sealing her answer instead with her lips. 

His heart’s compass is irretrievably broken, the needle melted into place. It doesn’t point north any longer, no  – it’s always going to point towards her. 

They move in together after that. 

He gives up his apartment, professing to prefer the warmth and light of hers. The Miyas help him move in even when he tries to refuse their help, Atsumu helping him to lug cardboard boxes up the stairs, Kaiyo helping him sort out his belongings, sorting them into his allocated cupboards. 

When they’re done, they order pizza and she bakes a cake to celebrate. ‘An impromptu housewarming’ she says, toasting Miya Kaiyo with a slice of pepperoni pizza with a laugh.

Kiyoomi shares a slice of chocolate cake with Atsumu in complete defiance of their nutritionist’s advice, jostling forks over the very last bite. She and Kaiyo scold them teasingly, telling them to behave like they’re actually thirty and not teenagers on the cusp of adulthood. Atsumu pulls at Kaiyo’s ponytail in retaliation. He refuses to engage in similar tomfoolery, reddening instead when she reaches over to ruffle his curls.

‘This is nice’, he remarks to Atsumu later, when their significant others are out of earshot, gossiping and giggling about something or other.  

‘It is, isn’t it’, Atsumu replies, a dopey smile on his face as he stares at his wife. 

It truly is , Kiyoomi thinks, staring at her.  

He takes over most of the cleaning, it clears his mind, he tells her. So to split the chores evenly, she insists on doing their laundry and cooking, and he doesn’t even nag her too much when she forgets to split the white and coloured clothes and stains some of his shirts once in a while. 

Wedding invites printed on expensive cream paper and bouquets of white lilies start to litter their doorstep every day. He tries his best to dispose of them before they reach her sight, but every so often, he comes home too late, catches her wilt as she brushes white petals from their doorstep. 

‘I don’t blame either of them’, she tells him, after he asks if she’d like him to call Iwaizumi and tell him to drown himself in a vat of batter, thank you very much. 

‘You’re too kind to both of them’ he says plainly, as they share a pot of tea, his head pillowed in her lap. ‘I would’ve just set them both on fire and left them to rot.’

‘Hajime loved Tooru for almost all his life - I just wanted to see him happy in the end. Argh  - I sound so stupid and sentimental like an old grandma, just laugh at me already’ she complains, hiding her burning cheeks in her hands.  

‘You aren’t stupid for being kind.’ He hums, quiet and low. ‘It’s why I love you so.’ 

He relishes the soft light dawning in her eyes, captures her whispered affection with careful fingers, spins them into gold. 

He has to turn off the stove to answer the door when some rude lout bangs on their front door far too early on a Sunday morning. 

With his coldest sneer and thinking resentfully about his breakfast, Kiyoomi swings the door open, fully intent on looming over the disturbance with his full height, but takes a step back instead when he finds one Iwaizumi Hajime hanging off the door knob. 

‘Hello’, Iwaizumi looks up at him confusedly. 

‘Hi’, he nods a greeting back at his old Olympic team trainer. They stare at each other. 

‘Eh - I think I’ve got the wrong house’, Iwaizumi scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘Sorry about that, Sakusa-san.’

He’s about to close the door in Iwaizumi’s face when her voice chimes in, clear as a bell. 

‘Who’s at the door, Omi?’ 

The shorter man shoots him a look of barely contained rage as he uses his bulk to push his way through the doorway towards her. Kiyoomi tries to stop him, protesting that he can’t barge into someone’s private property without an invitation like that, but it’s as futile an endeavour as trying to block the path of a raging storm.

Iwaizumi reaches her first, raising a hand as if to cup her face by instinct, before letting it fall back limply by his side. ‘You weren’t answering any of my messages or calls’, he says. ‘I was worried about you.’

She stares at him blankly for a moment. Then fire sparks in her eyes. 

‘Well, as you can see, I’m completely fine’, she replies, jaw and fists clenched. ‘You don’t need to do a welfare check on me, we’re not involved anymore.’

The scorching pain in Iwaizumi’s eyes is evident, even from a distance away. ‘Yeah. Well. I thought we were friends. You didn’t even tell me you were dating again’. He shoves his hands in his pockets, tossing another heated glance in Kiyoomi’s way. 

‘I didn’t think I needed to update my ex-fiance about my love life, especially not when he’s trying to drag me to attend his wedding that I already said I’m not going to attend’, she bites back. 

Iwaizumi opens his mouth, then closes it with a resounding snap. ‘I’m sorry’, he says, with heartbreaking honesty. ‘I told Tooru that you probably didn’t want to hear from us, but he insisted and I got worried when I didn’t hear from you for months’. 

Kiyoomi can see her glare soften into molten sympathy. The tension in the air crackles with electricity. He’s neither blind nor stupid – he can sense the years of longing and love not quite lost between them. 

He thinks she loves him, Sakusa Kiyoomi – weird habits, cold disposition and all, but the doubt clogging up his arteries and veins is enough to make his heart seize – and if she’s going to break his heart, he’d much rather she not do it in front of Iwaizumi.  

‘Hajime - ‘ she begins to say, and at this point he jumps in - 

‘I’ll excuse myself so you both have the chance to catch up’, he says, waving aside her protests as he slips on his shoes. Even in his haste to leave the house, he clicks his tongue at the mess Iwaizumi left behind at their  genkan , kneeling down to arrange their shoes, only standing up when he’s satisfied they’re neatly arranged back in place. 

‘Omi, you don’t have to leave’, she says, holding the door open. 

He shrugs his shoulders at her, nose and mouth already obscured by his usual face mask. ‘Let me know when you’d like me to come back’. 

If she’d like him to come back. She doesn’t chase after him, after all.  

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, but the golden sunshine feels more like a taunt rather than a balm to his mood. His stomach growls, making him long for the scrambled eggs he was in the middle of frying before he was so rudely interrupted, but his growing sense of nausea keeps him from seeking out an alternative meal. 

Instead, he makes his way to the park, sits on a relatively clean bench. There are couples a-plenty, strolling around hand in hand, families picnicking merrily around him, compounding the growing chasm of loneliness in his chest. He tries to count the seconds by his breaths, tries not to let the minutes expand the insecurities crawling, inch by inch up his throat. 

He sits alone. Poised, yet short of breath. 

He wonders if Iwaizumi Hajime has finally figured out that stars, for all their brilliance, cannot compensate for their lack of human kindness. And if so, he wonders which direction her heart would point towards if it were a compass - whether it’s as broken as his, and whether it points towards Iwaizumi or him.   

He waits. 

Then his phone buzzes. 

Ah. 

She’s asking him to come home. He does not dare to overthink the meaning of that single word. But he does not hide that his steps back  home are lighter than when he left, though the key in his hand shakes so hard it takes him three tries to fit it into the keyhole. He does not try to suffocate the seed of hope budding in the soft earth of his heart when he realises Iwaizumi’s shoes have vanished without a trace.  

“Omi?” 

She’s waiting for him, slipping warm arms around his waist, tangling her fingers in his curls, ignoring his complaints about letting himself wash his hands first. 

‘Am I silly for missing you, even though it’s only been an hour?’

He refuses to be distracted by the affection in her voice.

‘But what about Iwaizumi?’ he frowns, hesitation still poisoning the well of thoughts in his mind. 

Perhaps it’s a testament to how well they’ve grown to know each other that she doesn’t need to read the silent subtext of his statement. She smiles, bringing his palm flat against her chest, does not answer until his pulse matches the steady beat of her heart.  

‘I love you , Omi’, she tells him. Her heartbeat does not quicken, her smile does not waver. ‘You told me not to long ago to always be upfront with you about what  I  want so I’m going to be honest with you now - Iwaizumi is only ever going to be my past, and I want you from now on’. 

If her heart were a compass, the steady beat of her heart tells him, it would point only towards him.  

‘That is – if you’ll have me’, she adds, a shadow of doubt suddenly appearing on her face. 

‘Don’t be ridiculous’, he scoffs, burying his nose to breathe in the familiar scent of vanilla in her hair. ‘Who else would I rather have than you?’ 

Who else would he be lucky enough to call his home – a woman with a heart large enough to fit a whole ocean within its depths, with kindness in her eyes and mirth in her smiles. 

She laughs in spite of the salt in her throat and water in her eyes, leaning on her toes in a vain attempt to reach his face. He lifts her into her arms, laughs when she squeals indignantly as her feet only find air, toppling them both onto the couch where he can seat her between his legs, press kisses to her cheeks.  

She’ll tell him later that Iwaizumi came looking for her because he’s never outgrown his overprotective streak, and he’s truly happy for her - for them, because they’ve both moved on with their separate lives. And she ended up agreeing to attend his and Oikawa’s wedding on one condition – that an invitation is extended to him, Sakusa Kiyoomi, to attend with her as his date. 

He’ll tell her later that he’s happy to attend the wedding with her, just not to expect him to smile in any wedding pictures. And more importantly, he’ll tell her in his plain way that the list of expectations he has of their relationship has expanded yet again. 

He’ll lay out his dreams of a pair of matching golden rings to bind them to lifelong companionship, of hellspawn of their own and a dog, maybe two. 

He’ll ask her if it’s too much for him to ask of her.  

She’ll tell him that she’s willing to give him everything he asks for and more. 

It’s Miya Shino’s ninth birthday party. 

He’s retired from volleyball proper, and is thankful he insisted on getting a business degree from Chuo University before going pro, because it comes in handy working alongside Kuroo Tetsuro at the volleyball association. 

Miya Atsumu insists on inviting him to the party, though he supposes he’s invited not by virtue of being a former teammate, but because he’s also Shino’s uncle by marriage now. The thought that he’s related to Miya Atsumu, however distant and most definitely not by blood, still fills him with dread. 

The birthday girl is a little less imbued with her father’s chaotic energy this time, though she still squeals when her birthday cake is unveiled – though to be fair it’s less a cake, more a tower of cupcakes with cream cheese frosting spelling out her name. 

‘Thank you Auntie!’ Shino cries, flinging her arms around her. Kiyoomi flinches at the sight of anyone, even his nine year old niece, coming in close contact with his extremely pregnant wife, but a sharp glare from her subdues any complaint he dares to make. 

He fusses over her the minute he has the chance to corral her away from the clutches of Miya Shino. ‘Are your feet hurting? What about your back? I don’t know why you insist on walking so much when you know the doctor said you should be on bed rest soon’. 

‘Stop fussing, Omi! The baby and I will be fine’, she replies, exasperated. ‘This is the last social event scheduled before I pop and I’m determined to enjoy it while I can.’ Then she scuttles off faster than he imagines her frame allows, leaving him floundering in her wake. 

‘Just let her be’, Miya Atsumu laughs, slapping his back. Kiyoomi is on the verge of pointing out -  pot, meet kettle, reminding Atsumu that the last time Kaiyo was pregnant, Atsumu didn’t stop fretting until she went into labour and delivered a healthy baby boy. But then he remembers the grief etched into Atsumu’s face when Kaiyo miscarried in the stands during a game, so he holds his tongue and rolls his eyes instead. 

‘I’m just worried she’s pushing herself too hard’, he admits in a rare bout of vulnerability. 

Atsumu smiles, genuine for once. ‘Those crazy women, eh? They’re always gonna drive us up the wall, but they’re worth every minute of it.’ 

He looks at her, belly swollen with their first child, peach blossoms blooming in her cheeks. His past self would never imagine that he’d find this much joy and contentment in being a husband and a father, but then again his past self was satisfied coming home alone day after day to a cold apartment. He knows better now - life is so better when he has her, sharing stories of their day of over steaming mugs of tea at their kitchen countertop, listening to her hum as she bakes treats for the weekend, warmth and laughter and love abound in their cosy apartment for two, soon to be three.   

So feeling vaguely drunk though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in the months since she whispered during their anniversary dinner that they were expecting, Kiyoomi laughs aloud. 

Atsumu lifts his eyebrows in surprise.

‘She really, really is’, Kiyoomi says, breaking into an unguarded smile.  

If you wanna know more about the backstory of the reader - check out The Astrophile, and if you wanna know more about Miya Atsumu’s relationship with his wife, check out Storm Chaser. 

As always, reblogs and/or comments are so very appreciated <3

Taglist: 

@snoozless @softsakusa @moondaius​ (yeon i’ll be shameless and tag you cos I know you’re an Omi stan!)

[ladydaemon]

HOME IS THE TWO OF US

jesper fahey x female! reader

A/N: this is my fic for @magpiencrow's 1.2k writing challenge - i chose to combine 'you and i' by queen and 'two of us' by the beatles. and yeah this is more than two weeks later than when i said i would post this what about it

Summary: jesper and y/n have a wonderful night on ghezen's day

Warnings: swearing, i think that's it? its literally just pure indulgent fluff

"You do realize someone probably worked very hard to earn kruge like this, right?" Y/N L/N grinned, holding up a thick wad of money they had stolen from someone's pockets. She was seemingly unperturbed by the fact, her tone light and teasing as she bumped playfully into Jesper.

"And we, my dear, are working very hard on spending it," Jesper winked, wrapping one of his long arms around her shoulders. He snatched the kruge from her hand, immediately spending a portion of it on the first thing he laid eyes on, which was a ridiculously bright orange hat that burned Y/N’s eyes just looking at.

Jesper plopped it on her head, adjusting it so it was crooked, laughing.

Y/N would have done anything to hear that laugh.

The streets were loud and boisterous and carefree, and for the first time in a very long while, the two of them felt the same way. For today, at least, there were no chores or errands or jobs to do.

It was Ghezen's Day - the holiday that signified the starting of spring, where everything was sunny and bright. It was the one day where even the lowest of the Barrel thugs were out enjoying this tiny sliver of happiness, where there was only whistling vendors and cheery parades and star-gazing at night.

But for Y/N and Jesper, it was something more. It was a day where they weren't con artists or thieves or sharpshooters. They weren't thugs or gamblers or criminals.

They were teenagers.

Kaz, of course, pretended like he didn't care. He rolled his eyes and told them that were just trying to get away from chores they despised or any actual work. But everyone knew, even if they didn't admit it, that today was a day where they could pretend.

Pretend to be normal, pretend to be regular, pretend that they had loving families and good homes. Pretend that the weight of being hated and criminalized and addicted didn't make their shoulders slump and their heads hang. Pretend that they didn't muffle their sobs behind closed doors or shake in bed as they tried to rid their minds of all the horrible, treacherous, necessary things they had done.

Pretend that they were just a pair of inseparable best friends having a good holiday.

"C'mon, we need to find a good spot to see the sky," Jesper needled, taking Y/N by the arm and dragging her toward a carriage, elbowing a small, old lady out of the way and almost running them over a few small children on the way.

On Ghezen's Day, an hour after the sun set, the city mandated that all lights be shut off - the sky was clearer than it ever was in the hours that followed, and nearly everyone over the age of twelve stayed up until dawn, watching the sky. However, there was still pollution in the city, remainders of the gas and oil and muck churned up from the sea and the homes of the wealthy, and many preferred to ride to the outskirts of town, if not all the way into the country, where the sky was more visible.

Those towns that bordered between rural and urban, which never saw much tourism or profit, were the most popular places to be, full of tents for dancing outside and vendors selling foreign delicacies and musicians standing in the streets.

And as such, it was almost impossible to get a carriage out of the city without deploying either bony knees, steel-capped boots, or vicious elbows.

And that was exactly what was happening as people shoved and hassled people out of the way, even occasionally pulling out thick wads of kruge, trying to bribe other people in getting out of the limited selection of carriages going out of the city.

"The woman with the black shawl," Y/N whispered (though she needn't have bothered - the city was loud enough to mask any noise), leaning in and brushing her lips against Jesper's ear so he could hear her.

She could’ve sworn she felt him shudder.

"Ten minutes. No less."

"Twenty kruge.”

"Done."

Y/N grinned, slipping out of Jesper's hold and sauntering over to the woman in question, a pretty red-head. The woman was obviously rich (Y/N took a moment to appreciate the elegant dark blue dress she was wearing, paired with pretty gold earring and a matching necklace) and was about to step into a black carriage - one that Y/N was about to charm her out of.

"Hey there, miss," Y/N called out, putting on the face of an entitled, flirtatious mercher. "You wouldn't mind sharing the carriage, would you? I can’t seem to find an available one, and I’d rather share one with a beautiful lady such as yourself instead of some of those Barrel barbarians.”

The woman stopped halfway into her seat, looking back at Y/N.

If Y/N hadn’t been wearing the obviously expensive clothes she was, with the even more expensive diamond necklace around her throat (that Jesper had given her last Ghezen’s Day, as a present), the woman would have simply shut the carriage door in Y/N’s face.

Then there was the fact that she was gorgeous, and nobody in their right mind would refuse a two hour carriage ride alone with her.

That was Jesper’s opinion, at least.

“I could say the same about you,” the mercher grinned, opening the door wider.

Y/N smiled back, stepping into the carriage and placing her hand delicately on the other woman’s arm-

And swiftly shoved her into the streets, slamming the door behind her. Jesper climbed in from the other side, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Cruel.”

“Please, I slipped fifty kruge in her sleeve, she’ll be fine.”

“Ah. In that case, proceed. I don’t like anyone flirting with my Y/N, anyway.”

Y/N smirked at him, handing the driver a wad of kruge and telling him to step on it.

“Criminals,” he muttered, snapping the reins.

~

"Heels down, Y/N, love," Jesper shouted, grinning.

Y/N, switching the reins to one hand, flipped him off, scowling, but adjusted her feet in the stirrups anyways, forcing her heels downward and huffing when her calves ached. “I hate you.”

“We both know you love me,” Jesper shouted back, easing back into a trot - Y/N did the same, easing her weight further into the balls of her feet and gripping the saddle tighter between her knees. Beside her, Jesper had already done the same, posting in time with his horse’s gait.

“Where are we going again?” Y/N asked, panting as she slowed her horse down to a full stop.

“Absolutely nowhere.”

“Do we’re going nowhere, and basically getting nowhere and you want me to be happy about all this work?”

“Yes? You’re being blessed with my presence.” Mock indignation filled the words and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” Jesper huffed, “let’s go back home.”

But home wasn’t always a place, was it?

~

”Come on, I’m hungry,” Y/N whined, pulling Jesper’s wrist with her as she power-walked through the crowded, small town in search of some sweets.

”Ooh, cinnamon honey cakes,” Jesper said dryly, almost smacking into Y/N when she came to a full, screeching halt.

”Don’t you dare joke about honey cakes,” she hissed, poking him in the chest.

”I wasn’t,“ Jesper chuckle, nodding toward the vendor selling the sweets in question.

Y/N gasped audibly, dragging him along with her as she practically sprinted for the cart.

”After this, we’re going straight to the pond. We don’t want anyone to steal our spot.”

~

Y/N flopped down on her bed, staring at her wall of paper in boredom.

Each scrap of parchment, every napkin with hastily scribbled writing in the back, was a letter from Jesper.

Every week, no matter where Jesper was at the moment, he would write her a letter - describe where he was in detail, and then every thought that came to mind. It was a strange tradition (that nobody remembered how it came about) that Nina liked to tease them about.

You two have separation anxiety, she would giggle. Like an overprotective mother and her baby.

Two best friends, actually, Y/N would respond, stuffing her face with waffles.

Um, no. Would ‘best friends’ write, and I quote, “I’ll be home soon” on every letter they write?

Yes, they would, Y/N would sigh, snatching whichever letter Nina had gotten ahold of that time, and stare at the phrase in question.

Because home wasn’t a place.

~

“Stop doing that,” Jesper whined, plucking the lit match from Y/N’s fingers and tossing it into the pond.

She huffed, sticking out her tongue and lighting another one, waiting until it had burned down to her fingers before flinging it into the lake. “It’s a habit, Jes.”

They could’ve been there bickering playfully, enjoying each other’s company in silence for three days or three hours or a mere three minutes. Time didn’t exist, didn’t matter when they were alone together.

Laughter rang through the darkness, lanterns only bobbing pinpricks of light behind them - drunk giggles and cheerful music echoed back to them, but it didn’t really register to either of the two.

Moonlight bathed the two of them in a white glow as they both stood up as the stars gradually came out, twinkling, tiny lights covering the marbled, dusky blue-purple-black night sky, exposing nebulae and swirls and whorls of colors.

~

“Y/N, love, you’re gonna catch a cold.”

“I don’t care in the slightest.”

Jesper sighed, a grudging smile overtaking his face as he watched Y/N. She was soaked to the bone, hair and clothes sticking to her skin, nose ruddy from the cold.

“Dance with me,” she pleaded, holding out a hand to him.

She looked beautiful.

Jesper finally relented, picking Y/N up and twirling her around. She squeaked, closing her eyes, gripping onto his arms for dear life as the rain came down in silver sheets around them.

When he set her back down, the world seemed to stop spinning, the carriages stopped moving, it was just him and her and the rain.

“Let’s go home,” Y/N said eventually, quiet and peaceful, smiling up at Jesper.

But they were already home.

~

She turned to Jesper, about to remark on how pretty the whole thing was, but stopped in her tracks. He was staring at her, a small, happy smile on his face, an unreadable emotion in his silver eyes.

“Wha-“

He closed the three feet of space between them, grabbing her face between his hands, gently, like she was as precious as the diamonds around her neck. Not like she was breakable - like she was valuable, and he never wanted to lose her.

He gave her time to pull away, to laugh and make a joke, but she only stared back at him, the quizzical expression gone, on its place one of fear and hope and happiness.

And then his mouth was on hers and her hands were messing up his hair and she couldn’t feel the grass on her feet anymore or the wind on her neck or her heart, jittering in her chest like it wanted to burst out and fly into the night, only him, him, him.

And then he pulled away and kissed her nose, her eyelids, her forehead. He was laughing, hands going to her waist to twirl her around and around and then she was laughing too, too many emotions to count bubbling up in her chest. Elation, hope, almost hysterical happiness, and-

Absolute certainty.

That was the feeling, that was the one thought filling her head - that there weren’t any questions anymore, because this was where she was supposed to be, this is what she was supposed to be doing, and for once, she was letting herself.

For once, she wasn’t thinking about the next day or the next job or the next week.

It was just the two of them.

Because she could never predict where life was going to lead her next, or foresee the future years, or know what horrible thing was going to happen to her next. Hell, she didn’t know what was going to happen in the next couple hours, let alone what type of sandwich she was going to eat tomorrow.

But she knew, with absolute and utter certainty, that she wanted to do it with him.

That whatever happened, she would be alright, because home wasn’t a place - and it wasn’t Jesper, either.

It was the two of them, together.

~

Music floated gently in the darkness, down to were Y/N and Jesper were laying in the grass. Her head was on his chest, and they were both staring at the stars.

Home is the two of us.

[triptuckers]

Looking at the wrong one - Jesper Fahey

Request: yes! “Firstly, I just want to say I really love your writing! I’ve had this idea for a while and wanting to find someone to write it because I love it so much. So basically reader has feelings for Kaz but he’s obviously in love with Inej so she confides in Jesper who comforts her and she eventually realizes that he’s been the one for her the whole time. I hope you can write it but if you can’t that’s totally fine too!!” Pairing:  Jesper Fahey x reader Summary:  Jesper is the first person you go to when you need advice about something - or rather, someone. It takes you a while to realise you’ve been sneaking glances at the wrong person. Warnings: none Word count:  2.7K A/N: I loved this request sm!! been busy busy busy lately so sorry if your request is taking a while for me to write, finish and post! enjoy reading :)

You glance over at Kaz while he’s explaining the blueprints laid out in front of everyone. You’re trying to pay attention to what he’s saying, you really are, but it’s hard. It’s hard to focus on what he’s saying when Kaz is the one who’s talking. 

There’s no denying it, Kaz looks good. For weeks you tried to push your feelings away, but soon what started as a little crush developed into something more. And now you can barely keep your eyes off of him. 

There’s just something about his mysterious aura. The dark hair, sharp jaw, how he never seems to smile - though you did catch him smile once when he thought no one was looking. There’s so much you don’t know about him, and you’re dying to find out. 

Apparently, you’ve been staring at Kaz for a little too long, because you feel someone nudging your shoulder, and turn to face them.

‘You know.’ mutters Jesper to you from the corner of his mouth. ‘If you want to talk about it, or just need to rant and have someone listen to you, I’m always here. I’ve heard I’m excellent company.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ you say. ‘Do you think we can pull this job of?’ 

You hoped Jesper wouldn’t ask about Kaz again, and he senses your need to change the subject.

‘We better.’ he says. ‘We can score big with this one.’

Jesper starts talking about what he’s going to do once the job is done, but your eyes are already shifting back to Kaz. You can’t help but to feel a knot in your chest as you see him looking at Inej.

While you’re always looking at Kaz, you catch him looking at Inej. 

Inej is one of your closest friends, and you would die for her. Hell, you almost did die for her a couple of months ago. Still, you couldn’t help but to feel jealous of her. Of the way Kaz looked at her.

Whenever Kaz was looking at Inej and you caught him, it didn’t take long for you to fall down a rabbit hole of insecure and jealous thoughts.

You’d think of everything Inej can do that you cannot do. She has a gifts for knives, you know your way around guns, not knives. When she’s sneaking around, she almost becomes one with the shadows, you couldn’t soundlessly sneak up to someone even if you tried. 

You always concluded Inej was better than you on more than one aspect. You figured she would be a better match for Kaz than you could ever be. You were ashamed of being so jealous of your friend when all Kaz did was look at her. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get rid of the jealousy. 

After Kaz has rolled up the blueprints and everyone went over the plan one last time, you say your goodnights and all head back to your own rooms. You’re barely aware of your movements as your legs carry you to your room. When you move to open the door to your room, a familiar whistle makes you look up.

‘The offer for some company still stands.’ says Jesper, and he winks at you before entering his own room, next to yours in the hallway.

While Jesper didn’t have Kaz’ gift for coming up with plans, he wasn’t stupid. He had caught you looking at Kaz a couple of times, then decided to speak up. As soon as the opportunity presented himself, he’d taken you apart from the others and confronted you about your staring. 

You were shocked, asking him how he could have possible figured it out. Jesper merely raised his eyebrows and told you you’re always looking at Kaz. You hadn’t realised you looked at Kaz so many times. Ever since, Jesper has offered a listening ear. And though you appreciated it, you weren’t ready to talk about your feelings just yet. 

As you’re taking your boots off, your mind wanders to Kaz again. And the way he looked at Inej. He didn’t show his feelings that often, but you couldn’t help but notice how soft his eyes were when he looked at Inej. It drove you crazy, and you didn’t like that it did. You felt like you were going to explode if you kept pushing these feelings down any longer. Maybe having someone listen to you didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

Not bothering to put your boots back on, you get up and leave your room. You take a few steps to get in front of Jesper’s door. Though it’s not that late and he’s probably still awake, you hesitate. What if he just wanted to be a good friend, but wasn’t actually interested in your thoughts on Kaz?

You sigh and shake your head, clearing your mind. You then raise your hand and knock on the door. After a few seconds it opens, revealing Jesper. He’s taken off his coat and boots, leaving him in just a shirt and a pair of trousers. He smiles when he sees you.

‘I see you do want my company?’ he says. ‘Only if you don’t mind.’ you say. ‘Of course not.’ he says, stepping aside so you can enter his room.

You take a seat in the only chair in the room as Jesper closes the door. He walks over to his bed and sits down as you tuck your feet under your legs, getting comfortable.

‘So.’ says Jesper. ‘Am I problem solving or listening?’

You frown at his words. ‘What does that mean?’ you ask him.

‘Well, it’s the easiest way to prevent a fight.’ explains Jesper. ‘If I’m problem solving, I’ll give you advice and come up with solutions. If I’m listening, I’m just going to shut up and, well, listen. So, am I problem solving or listening?’

‘Listening, I guess.’ you say.

‘Alright.’ says Jesper, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs in front of him. He gestures with his hand to you. ‘Let it all out then, love.’

You don’t know where to begin. Jesper is patient as you’re searching for the words. Without realising, you start to play with your fingers, a habit of yours which you do when you’re thinking or anxious.

‘It starts... Well, when I became a member of the Dregs, I guess. I was young, but Kaz was around my age. We became close friends. That is, as far as being close friends with Kaz goes. I trusted him, he trusted me. We spent months working our way up to the top and along the way you tagged along, and Inej, Nina, Matthias and Wylan. I care about all of you, but there’s just something  different about Kaz.’ you tell him.

Jesper looks at you but doesn’t say anything. He’s just listening, exactly like he said he would.

‘It started off as an innocent crush. Saints, I sound like some school girl. Anyway, somewhere along the way that little crush developed into something more. And now I can’t stop looking at him or thinking about him. And now that I’ve said this out loud, I realise you are the first person I’ve talked to about this.’ 

You’re silent for a while as you look at Jesper. You were afraid he’d laugh at you, but he’s just sitting on his bed, looking at you. 

‘I can tell there’s still something else on your mind.’ he simply says. You let out a sigh and nod, and start talking again.

‘He’s always looking at Inej. Whenever I look at him, he’s looking at Inej. I know I shouldn’t feel the way I do, but I cannot pretend it doesn't make me a little jealous. The first time I saw him looking at Inej, I wished he looked at me like that. I know this sounds stupid, but I really can’t help it. And once I catch him looking at her, I start to think about how I’m not worth it.’ you say.

Now Jesper frowns. ‘But you’re worth it.’ he says. You chuckle softly and shake your head.

‘She’s everything I’m not. She’s pretty, she’s very skilled with her knives, she can sneak up to anyone without being seen or heard. She knows the secrets of everyone in the Barrel. She could take down the Merchant council all on her own if she wanted to. I can’t do that.’ you say. 

‘I know I said I was listening, but can I just offer you one piece of advice?’ asks Jesper. You nod. ‘You say you notice the way Kaz looks at Inej, I have noticed that as well. He looks at her the way you look at him. Don’t you think you should try to admit to yourself that he’s only going to be looking at her, and not you?’

‘Deep down I know that.’ you say softly. ‘But I can’t fully wrap my head around that. Not just yet, at least.’

‘Alright.’ says Jesper. ‘Maybe not now, but if you give it time, maybe it’ll hurt less.’

You look at him and smile as you get up. ‘Thank you Jesper.’ you say. ‘This is nice. Having someone listen to you.’

Jesper gets up as well as you walk toward the door. ‘The door’s always open to you.’ says Jesper as he opens the door for you. ‘You can always swing by.’

‘Thanks.’ you say as you step out onto the hallway. ‘Goodnight, Jes.’  ‘Night, Y/N.’ he says as you walk the few steps to the door of your room.

After that conversation, your nightly visits to Jesper’s room increase. Sometimes he’s problem solving, sometimes he’s listening, and sometimes you just sit in silence when all you want is some company.

There’s even one night in which you actually fell asleep when you were sitting on his bed, and when you woke up the next morning, you found Jesper sleeping on the floor while using his coat as a blanket. Your heart melted a little, but you decided not to speak up as you snuck out of his room.

Weeks pass, and slowly your visits turn from seeking advice about Kaz to enjoying a conversation with Jesper. He makes you laugh as he tells you stories about how he used to drive his parents crazy doing god knows what at their farm. In return, you tell him about the life you lived before you came to Ketterdam.

Another couple of visits later, and you’ve almost completely forgotten that you originally started visiting Jesper to talk about Kaz. You notice you’ve stopped sneaking glances at Kaz. You’re not even jealous when you catch him looking at Inej again. 

Instead, your attention is on Jesper. More than once, he caught your eye and sent a wink you way, making you smile and turn away.

Your nightly visits increase even more, and you can be found in Jesper’s room almost every night, laughing at his jokes.  

After a particularly long night that involved keeping tabs on the security of one of the banks for hours, you find yourself in front of Jesper’s room again. Kaz had sent you out on the job, and you had hoped Jesper would be in his room when you got back.

But after knocking three times, he still hasn’t opened the door. You whistle a familiar tune, hoping he’d answer the door. When he doesn’t, you kick over a tiny tin can that sits on the floor next to the door.

‘So predictable.’ you murmur as you bend down to pick up the key that was underneath it. Knowing Jesper probably wouldn’t mind, you let yourself in and walk over to the only chair in the room.

You let yourself settle in and reach out to take the deck of cards Jesper always keeps on his nightstand. 

You’re fooling around with the cards, if only to keep yourself busy as you wait for Jesper. You’re shuffling the cards, moving them smoothly in your hands.

‘Can you teach me that?’ 

At the sudden voice, you drop half of the cards. You hadn’t seen or heard him coming. Jesper chuckles as he walks over and stands behind you, looking out over the city beneath you.

‘This is my favourite view.’ he says, looking out the window.

‘Mine too.’ you say, while you look at the reflection of his face in the window. You then fully realise you haven’t talked about Kaz in weeks, that you just come to Jesper’s room for a conversation and some company, and you remember the night he slept on the floor.

‘Jes?’ you ask him. ‘Yea love?’ he says. ‘The other night when I was here-’ ‘Care to specify which night?’ 

‘I fell asleep, and when I woke up you were sleeping on the floor.’ ‘Oh, that night.’ he says. ‘Well, would you rather I had pushed you off the bed?’ ‘No.’ you laugh.

Jesper laughs too and you look at each other in silence afterward. It’s a comfortable silence, and he’s the first one to speak up.

‘You haven’t talked about Kaz in a while.’ he says. ‘Finally realised his heart belongs to someone else?’

‘Yes, well, I realised that so does mine.’ you say. This makes Jesper frown. 

‘Already moving on?’ he says. ‘Thought your feelings for him were more serious.’

‘They were.’ you say. ‘But I've found someone who listens to me, who sees me, who makes me laugh.’ you cock your head to the side a little and look at him. ‘Nice to look at, as well.’

Jesper raises one eyebrow.

‘Who is this mystery person?’ he says. ‘And am I problem solving or listening?’ ‘Well I hope you’re gonna do something else.’ you say. Jesper frowns again, making you playfully roll your eyes.

‘Not the smartest tonight, are we?’ you say. ‘Let me repeat it: I've found someone who listens to me, sees me, and makes me laugh. and not bad to look at.’ 

He’s still frowning. ‘Another hint?’ he says. ‘This is why Kaz does the planning and has the brains.’ you say, laughing.‘Rude.’ says Jesper.

‘It’s a he, and he’s caring and sweet, sometimes struggles to sit still, loves a good gunfight, he’s an excellent shot.’ you say.

Jesper smirks at you and then fakes a look of confusion on his face. ‘Still not getting it.’ he says. ‘Tell me more about him.’

You laugh and get up, standing close to him. ‘He’s not just an excellent shot, he’s the best damn sharpshooter in Ketterdam. Saved my ass a couple times as well. Owns a pair of stunningly hand made revolvers. He’s Zemini, taller than me, and..’ your voice drifts off.

‘And?’ says Jesper, stepping closer to you. ‘And I've been wondering if he’s a good kisser.’ you say softly. 

‘Well, let’s find out, shall we?’ says Jesper and he cups your face with both of his hands and presses his lips against yours. They’re soft, and you can taste a hint of his last drink on them. He kisses you gently but passionate, and takes a  breath when he pulls away.

‘Hmm.’ you say, pretending to think. ‘Yea, pretty good.’

‘Pretty good?’ says Jesper. ‘I've heard I'm more than a pretty good kisser.’

‘Prove it then.’ you say.

Jesper smirks and pulls you in for a kiss once more. This one is different, it’s more demanding, and leaves you breathless as you struggle to keep your knees from buckling. 

He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. ‘How about that?’ he says softly.

You smile and press a quick kiss to his lips. ‘You live up to your reputation, Fahey.’ you say. ‘You’re an excellent kisser.’

‘Just like I thought.’ says Jesper. ‘Do you want to stay here tonight?’

‘I would love to.’ you say.

You spend the rest of the night talking with Jesper until eventually, you feel yourself falling asleep. You feel how Jesper moves next to you, to take his spot on the floor again. You lay a hand on his arm to stop him, silently telling him it’s okay and that he doesn’t have to sleep on the floor.

Kaz wasn’t the right match for you, Inej is. But Jesper certainly is your match.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[anne-i-write]

moriarty the patriot headcannons

| requested by anon: “uhhh kinda weird lmao but how would the moriarty bros react to an s/o from the future? (Headcanons) thanks! OwO” |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader

word count: 1355

tw: a few swears, if i’m missing any please let me know!

a/n: i’m so sorry that these are coming out so slow please enjoy!

william: 317 words

please

as soon as you wake up he’ll be staring at you intently

“where am i?”

“durham, england, 1880… and in my room”

it takes you like ten minutes to process everything that’s going on because: “i’m dreaming right??? or did i actually shift???

after finally accepting the fact you indeed did not shift and are not dreaming, you finally looked at the man who had stayed silent during your incoherent ramblings

“you seem more awake now, is it alright if i ask a few questions?”

hhh he’s such a gentleman

you both honestly take this whole time shift thing really well

louis definitely walks in on you two and he’s like,,

“who tf are you and how did you get in”

sdjkfhd pls its so funny when you guys converse

his speaking manner is so refined and yours is just,, yours

but he loves it

he thinks its cute

he comes up with a story for you because there were people who were no doubt going to question how you came into his life

and from there you two hit it off really well

accidentally said you two were to be wed during a conversation and the nobles went insane

when you are on the carriage ride back from the party he apologizes for saying something so out of line

“i wouldn’t mind being married to you, william.”

this man always has something to say but THIS

YOU

he wanted to respond with something witty but you just,, existed and made him melt

“let’s go buy a ring tomorrow then.”

asks you questions about the future

only trivial things, never if his plan works in the long term

but judging by the way you talk about your previous life he can tell that everyone is somewhat equal, except for “the dumbass politicians” you speak about

oh did i mention he picks up your swears too LMAO

louis: 459 words

 he’s heading back to his room when you come OUT of his room

“who tf are you, how did you get into this house, and why are you here”

instant kill mode

you think you’re dreaming so you’re like,, ok cool and you tell him most of your life story and he’s like

??????

has never been more dumbfounded in his life

who is this person and what are they wearing and why are they telling me their life story

eventually the rest of the moriarty team gets involved and matters are settled lmao

you all agree that staying in the manor is the best course of action at the moment

louis thinks you’re taking this a little too well so he’s still a little sus of you

like seriously,, the future?? cmon now

the people you’re working for probably made those weird clothes for you

but anyways

you’re helping him clean the house and cook

“this is fun,,, but honestly?? if i have to do this by myself everyday i would cry”

you keep saying this and you know it’s getting annoying for louis but he ISNT TALKING

if you can’t beat em, annoy em

finally gives in

“how did you used to wash clothes in the future?”

and you get this big smile on your face and you start TALKING

you’re so excited that he finally spoke to you

even tho you know you lowkey annoyed him

but you’re talking and louis is like,, huh

you’re talkative, but not annoying at all

you have little stories that make him laugh sometimes

needless to say you both get closer

but it isn’t until one night louis is making rounds around the manor that he passes by your room and hears crying

so he’s worried and he goes into your room

bruh you try pulling that shit where you wipe away your tears and be like “oh i’m okay!”

like,, no u aren’t

louis makes you spill what’s bothering you

“my friends, my family… are they okay? are they looking for me?? they must be so worried”

note that you’ve already been at the moriarty estate for about two months without any word that you can return to your own time

and louis holds you

he teaches you more about the year that you’re currently stuck in and he tries to take your mind off of the bad things

asks william to buy more books to indulge you bc you have some book withdrawals bc “WHAT DO YOU MEAN A TALE FOR THE TIME BEING HASNT BEEN PRINTED YET” followed by a short crying session

he’s a really good boyfriend

you taught him what a boyfriend was and he couldn’t stop thinking about how much society’s view on relationships changed

albert: 579 words

is walking down the streets at night when he sees you barreling down the road in your clothes

you look pretty scathed when you run right into him

“are you alright?”

you’re scared and out of breath but he’s wearing what you can only assume is a uniform of england

he takes you to his place and tries to calm you down

he asks you questions and you tell him everything straight out

you know you look crazy but you couldn’t bring yourself to care

you were just walking back from a friend’s place IN BROAD DAYLIGHT and you felt dizzy and you woke up alone in a dark alleyway

“where are you from?”

you obviously give him your city but he corrects himself

“what year are you from?”

“2019”

doesn’t want to believe you bc you’re all frantic and maybe insane

but your clothes just seem to different for him to brush off the possibility

tells you to sleep it off and gives you his bed

he’s already writing a letter to his brothers that he’s possibly coming back with someone

“ohoho brother albert has a suitor now?”

anyways, albert asks you more questions about your other life as you’re both on the train to durham

albert went out to buy you more fitting clothes before leaving and you couldn’t even repay him

but he tries to get you in a comfortable position so you don’t spiral again

but he’s genuinely nice about it when he finally accepts the fact that you are in fact from the future

funny enough, you both don’t get each others names until you get onto the train

“oh, my name is albert james moriarty”

and you’re briefly like “oh like sherlock’s nemesis” but then you remember that this is only the victorian era

sherlock holmes doesn’t exist, it’s just a coincidence

so you both get to the manor and he introduces you to the moriarty team and this is where you’re like,,

oh my God

this is real and i know the ending

you suddenly want to travel back further in time and never meet them bc they’re all really sweet towards you

and you got attached to them more than you should have

albert notices you’re a little tense so he makes small conversation to get your mind off of things

“i do like to play the piano”

bro

they have a piano delivered to the house to make you feel more comfortable and hopefully keep you occupied

itching and nostalgic (ironic), you play songs from rachmaninoff and joe hisaishi, despite it being from the future

everyone knows chopin so shhh

“that’s beautiful, did you compose that?”

“no, but another composer did, i don’t even think he exists yet”

you’re very adamant on keeping things the same

like,, no i’m not going to tell you how to create a washing machine because i don’t want to mess up the timeline if i do go back to the future

you do get very sad occasionally because you are homesick and being placed in a world where you have only heard stories of is very disorienting

but albert and the boys make up for it

albert always tries to be by your side and if he can get his hands on a piano sheet he’ll buy one for you and see if you already know it

it’s always nice to have them around, but you know the troubles you’ll eventually have to face

moriarty the patriot taglist: @zoehanji