#lost my phone between work and the store and home so spent half an hour trying to figure THAT out

[fooltofancy]

the fuckin fluster of activity when u remember there's an internet tech guy coming at one that u spent all weekend forgetting about.

[chubbology]

Inertia

prompt: a man gains weight trying to get his ex-girlfriend back, but goes way too far and gets addicted to gaining

He hadn’t gone to the gym even once in ages.

After a year of singlehood, he wasn’t ashamed to admit anymore that he’d only really gone in the first place to impress women. Ironic, of course, since his ex had never been more than vaguely dissatisfied about his gym habit.

When they first started dating, he had love handles he hated and his thighs had been too thick. He assumed she dated him despite these flaws. Only after he lost weight to please her did he find out that it was his chub that caught her eye. It was bigger guys she was into. It was a lot of miscommunication. A lot of insecurity on his part, since what her preferences meant was that she wanted him to be a little heavy, and he couldn’t possibly accept that with his society-ingrained doctrines about attractiveness.

But those doctrines meant fuck-all now; he was eating a double cheeseburger in his car, helping it down with an orange soda, thinking about dessert. He was wondering if she’d be proud of him now that he’d gained thirty pounds. He wondered if she’d look at him with half-lidded eyes like she used to, if he put on another thirty. Fifty. Whatever.

His phone buzzes. He sits up straighter, belly swelling a little into his lap. It’s her.

Hey. My friend needs to sell her two tickets. I know it’s your favorite band. Interested?

The next text was a link to an information page about an upcoming concert. He’d been so disconnected lately, he hadn’t even heard about it.

Even though he wasn’t actually all that interested, he replied that he was, and they set a date to meet up the next week. Shit. He looked down at himself. If she were someone else, she might be repelled. But she wasn’t someone else…

He was hit with a brilliant, maybe brilliantly stupid, idea. It’s execution began with going right back through the drive thru.

In the days leading up to seeing his ex again, he ate almost constantly. Since he was only doing freelance online at the moment, his work didn’t get in the way of this. He let himself eat whatever he wanted, in amounts three times what his body craved. He pushed himself to a state of being constantly past full. She liked fat guys? Fine. Even if she still didn’t want anything to do with him, he wanted her to see what he could have been, if he hadn’t been such a gym-rat douchebag. If he’d let himself become a lazy, docile boyfriend like she wanted instead, weak and overweight.

It was hard, gaining a lot of weight in a week. The number on the scale didn’t go up as much as he expected, even though he’d eaten enough calories to gain twenty pounds at least. He compensated by showing up to their meeting spot wearing clothes that tightly hugged his body, which now had a good forty-ish pounds of fat clinging to it. Looking in the mirror before he left, he’d almost seen what she was into. His ass had gotten kind of wide and dumpy, but in a sexy way?

He was all nerves when she showed up looking healthy and cute and indifferent about him, holding the tickets in her hands. Almost indifferent. She definitely gave him a once-over, when she thought he wasn’t looking. He could tell she bit the inside of her lip.

“Well,” she said, meeting his eyes fearlessly. Were her cheeks a little red, or was that wishful thinking? “I’ll see you.”

“Really?” he blurted. “Kinda miss hanging out.”

She smiled and turned to leave. “Maybe.”

He went home and binged hard.

*

In contrast to how he grew too slowly in the week before meeting up with her, in the weeks afterward, he gained weight doubletime. Fat rounded him out as easy as if he were a swiftly filling water balloon, engorging his thighs and belly and ass and hips wide and heavy. He ate compulsively as his appetite skyrocketed, as cravings crushed his will to restrain himself. His budget was thrown out of whack as he spent his savings on pantry loads of unhealthy food. His clothes stretched and seams snapped as he struggled to fit in his largest clothes. He shopped in the plus sized section first for comfort, then by necessity.

All the while he could only think: I wished she was watching.

He started imagining her with him. In the car as he ate fast food. At the store as he bought new clothes. Walking beside him as he forced himself to get exercise.

“Slow down, big guy.” “No, I think you need one size bigger.” “Sweating already? You’re so out of shape.”

Why did he like it? Imagining her mocking him? Teasing him? Eyeing his body, fleshy and overfed.

The next time she texted, it was late at night, and his eyes were glazed watching television, eating huge spoonfuls of that miracle drug called Nutella. His belly swelled out of his shirt. His breasts and face were puffy. According to the numbers he punched into Google, he had long crossed the threshold of obesity.

How was the concert?

He stared at the words. This was it. Maybe his only chance. He replied: Didn’t go after all. Been feeling off lately.

To his (very manly) delight, this prompted more questions, and it became clear she wanted a real conversation. Was she thinking of him? Missing him like he missed her? He thought out every response with the careful focus of a rocket scientist. He wasn’t going to mess this up.

He didn’t seem to, and they texted into the early hours of the morning, catching up. Finally, finally she asked to meet up with him again, and - feeling more eager, a little reckless - he tapped out a disclaimer. Or to her, hopefully: motivation.

Just so you aren’t shocked when you see me, I’ve put on weight since I bought those tickets from you. I’m not sensitive about it or anything, but it’s a lot. So here’s a fair warning.

He held his breath as he waited for her reply. Held his breath. Held it…

Oh. Really?

Like before, they set a time the following week. This time, to get coffee. No big deal.

He knew he had more than fulfilled his little scheme of putting on weight to catch her attention, and he could push the breaks now, but he felt helpless against his inertia. At this point, he’d cultivated half a dozen habits that had his weight steadily rising, and he couldn’t just turn them off. If he so much as thought of eating less, his whole body seized up in fearful anticipation and unhappiness, and he found himself cramming a couple moonpies into his mouth just to calm down.

He gained another six pounds between their text conversation and their coffee date. He felt so out of control, so out of shape, so out of line with the standards of popular society that he felt oddly…free. In a way, he felt free of anxious self-consciousness as he heaved himself out of his car and waved at her through the coffee shop window. She was sitting in a corner at a table for two. Despite his warning, she looked a little shocked.

When he sat down across from her, his huge ass hanging off the ends of the seat, she appeared to inhale deeply. Her expression was inscrutable.

“You weren’t kidding,” she said.

Blushing, he supposed he deserved a bit of tactlessness, for the tactless way he broke up with her. “What? Oh. Yeah, no. I wasn’t.”

She sipped her coffee, eyes flicking between his flabby chest and his flabby face. In a low tone that no one else would hear, she said, “What happened? For you to get fat as fuck.”

He opened his mouth and closed it. This wasn’t how he was expecting this to go. “Well. I’ve been working from home, stressed out. I let myself go and…” He trailed off when he realized her eyes were cold. No - so hot they seemed cold, like his shower water when turned to the highest setting.

“Is this because of me?” she asked, cutting to the chase. She crossed her legs, now openly surveying him. “Did you decide it was okay to gain a hundred pounds because you thought I’d be into it?”

He was speechless. He swallowed.

“Well? Do you want me back that badly? Ever since I saw you last time, all chubbed out, I’ve been thinking maybe I should give you a second chance.”

“Um.”

“But I don’t know…” She shrugged, but a smirk was hiding just behind that indifferent frown, and he wanted. He wanted her forgiveness, whatever that meant. “How about you gain a hundred more and we’ll go on a real date? Sound good? You’re not the only fat guy out there.”

She was full-on grinning now, and he missed her little games like this. He could play them, too.

“Maybe, but I bet I’m the only guy who’s gotten this fat for you,” he said. She was immediately affected by this, and he licked his lips. “You really want to wait to see me a hundred pounds bigger than this, or do you want to stick around to watch?”

Even quieter, she said, “You saying you like gaining weight? How convenient.”

So she still doubted him. He put out his hands for her to see. “Just look. Look at how fat my hands are. I can’t…” And finally his composure cracked a little. “I can’t stop. I couldn’t stop if I wanted. Even if you never talk to me again, I’m gonna gain weight.”

Any playfulness was gone now from her. She looked like she wanted him, too. “Hmm. Maybe we should go before you break that poor chair, huh?”

He blushed again. God, he was getting docile. “I’m not that bad,” he muttered. But she gave him a cruel grin. She hadn’t entirely forgiven him. “You will be.”

And he knew then: he was doomed. He was already a little bit into his own heaviness, and she was going to take that feeling and amplify it tenfold. She was going to enable every bad habit he had, watch him flounder under his increasing size and become weaker under layers and layers of fat until he could barely lift a two pound dumbbell.

He knew she wanted this to happen, and maybe he’d broken up with her before because he’d been afraid.

But he wasn’t anymore.

“Let’s go then,” he said.

*

Thank you to the reader who commissioned this work!

I'd love to write more. Check me out <3 etsy.com/shop/Chubbology

[joheunsaram]

temper tantrums + cookies (myg)

Summary- Being a single dad is hard, especially when Yoongi’s daughter decides to throw a tantrum as he shops for groceries.

word count- 2.8k

pairing- dilf!Yoongi x Reader

rating- PG

genre- fluff, strangers2(maybe?)lovers, meetcute

warnings- YOONGI GROCERY SHOPPING, single fatherhood fears and insecurities

a.n- Omg my first fic on this new blog after the whole debacle. Thank you for everyone who followed me and bore with my clown self. I hope you enjoy this! Yes, I’m a simp for when Yoongi went grocery shopping in New Zealand. sigh.

A huge shoutout to @hobisbeautifulass​ for helping me plot this and @oftenderweapons​ for helping fix the ending! 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

perm taglist- @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @aroseforyoongi, @hobisbeautifulass​

-

Yoongi groaned as he strained to open his eyes. He could barely stifle a yawn as he leaned on the stroller slowly moving it through the aisle. His phone rested atop of the little tray attached to the handles, buzzing incessantly as messages from his company bombarded the screen. Could he not have some rest even on a Sunday?

He sighed as he stopped in front of the cereals, examining the boxes, trying to decide between his craving for Froot Loops and the healthier choice of Muselli. Knowing that he would be eating said cereal for dinner this whole week, he opted for Museli, missing the days he had enough time to cook a proper meal for himself.

“Daddy! Up!” Hyunji’s lisp pulled him out of his reminiscing as he watched his two year old daughter wriggling around in her seat, arms up to coax him into carrying her. Rubbing his eyes and trying to balance his grocery basket, Yoongi crouched to her level as she impatiently smacked her hands on the foam bar in front of her. He couldn’t help but smile at her - her tiny eyes almost hidden by her rosy chubby cheeks, hair a mess as she had managed to pull one of her pigtails out. 

“We’ll be home soon, Ji,” he cooed at the chaotic love of his life, placing his basket on the floor to fix her shoe that had seemed to come undone for the eighth time this morning. However, his placades were lost on her as his daughter used her future swimmer lungs to scream, her shrill voice making him wince, but surprisingly working much better than the two iced coffees he had chugged earlier.

With a groan, Yoongi settled on the floor, trying to dodge her little feet that were kicking at him. He really couldn’t wait till she outgrew her temper tantrums. Reaching into his hoodie pocket, he pulled out a small pack of tissues, trying his best to get rid of the snot and tears that flowed down her face as she angrily fought him, her tiny fists colliding with his forearms.

“Ji, please. Calm down,” Yoongi sighed, trying his best to pacify his screaming daughter, while throwing apologetic glances at the shoppers passing by. “Okay, you want to be like that? Then let it out of your system. Go ahead.”

Resigning himself to his fate, Yoongi sat cross-legged in front of her stroller and rubbed his eyes. He knew Hyunji would calm down soon enough, and with the week he had he didn’t care if passerbys thought he was a terrible father for letting his daughter cry her eyes out in the breakfast aisle. In fact, he didn’t care that he himself was close to tears. He felt overwhelmed and bitter, the words of his mother ringing in his ears. “If only you had worked out your issues, she would be here, and you wouldn’t be alone!”

He laughed deliriously, the weeks of shitty sleep catching up to him as he pleaded with his daughter to calm down, bribing her with candy he never bought her to no avail. “Please baby, just half an hour and then we’ll be home,” Yoongi negotiated, his eyes glassy as Hyunji shrieked in response, causing him to startle and bang his shin against the wheel. He hissed in pain, grimacing with his head against the foam rod as she pulled at his dark hair. He loved his daughter, truly from the bottom of his heart, but he couldn’t wait till she started preschool next week and he could get some reprieve. 

“Do you mind if I try?”

Yoongi followed the voice to see you crouching next to him. Dressed in a printed dress with little dinosaurs all over it, and a pair of red glasses that matched your shoes, you didn’t seem like you worked at the store, but Yoongi couldn’t care less. He didn’t know if his exhaustion was blurring his mind, but you seemed like the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He couldn’t stop staring at you, from the slope of your nose, to your hair that fell into your eyes. Had Yoongi really been that deprived of adult human contact that just looking at you made his heart pound in his chest and heat rise to his cheeks? Wow, your lips were really pretty. They looked so soft, crinkling a little on the side when you spoke. Oh shit, you were speaking!

Yoongi was broken out of his thoughts by your voice. “What’s her name,” you asked, tentatively reaching out towards the angry toddler.

“Hyunji.” 

Yoongi felt as if he was in a daze, he couldn’t stop staring at you as you reached out to lightly touch Hyunji, your fingers grabbing her little hand in something akin to a handshake. He watched in awe as Hyunji immediately stopped her screams to look at you curiously, her head tilted to the side as she sniffled. Yoongi would be upset that his daughter seemed to be more calm with a stranger than him if it weren’t for how the soft smile on your face made him lose his train of thought. It made your cheeks puff up a little and he felt his heart skip a beat at the small movement.

“Hey Hyunji! I’m Y/N. How are you today,” you said, as Hyunji finally responded with what Yoongi had spent the whole year teaching her, moving her hand away and looking wary. Yoongi felt pride surge through him knowing that his daughter wasn’t going to let a stranger act all buddy-buddy with her. However, Hyunji’s rejection made a small frown appear on your lips, and Yoongi mentally willed his daughter to be nice to you. 

You weren’t deterred however, and with another smile, you reached into your bag draped across your torso to retrieve a small stuffed toy shaped like a chocolate cookie type character. Yoongi’s eyes couldn’t help but follow the strap of your bag as it rested between your chest, perfectly aligned with the slight cleavage afforded by the dress. He gulped, trying to shake the flurry of thoughts that ran through his mind like how his face would feel if it was the strap. 

“No handshake? Okay. How about a toy,” you asked, grinning and shaking the character in front of the toddler, your smile getting wider as she responded immediately reaching for the toy. So much for stranger danger training. Your voice turned high pitched and cartoonish as you pretended to be the toy, Hyunji immediately lighting up and laughing, the switch an instant 180. “Hi Hyunji, I’m Shooky! Nice to meet you!”

“Shooky!” she exclaimed, waving the toy towards Yoongi to show it to him gleefully. Yoongi smiled, cooing at his daughter. Turning towards you, he found you smiling at him, the same soft smile that made him senseless earlier. He wanted to thank you for saving him, for calming down his whirlwind of a daughter, but his mouth seemed to have a mind of its own.

“Is that a cookie? She’s not allowed to have cookies.”

“It’s a toy…” You seemed confused, rightly so, your eyebrows scrunched together as you blinked slowly, trying to decipher his meaning. Yoongi should’ve clarified, apologized, but he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t double down.

“Shaped like a cookie. That’s a slippery slope.” He waved towards his daughter who seemed to be bashing the poor character against her leg, giggling. He realized his type of humour was not everyone’s cup of tea and so when he watched your lips down turn, he started to apologize only to be stopped by you smirking at him.

“So you’re saying a toy shaped like a cookie is a gateway drug to junk food,” you said, an eyebrow raised at him. Your wit made him cackle, an unattractive, loud scream of a laugh that immediately turned him red in embarrassment. God, he was such a loser! He cleared his throat conscious of the way you chuckled in amusement. He really needed to get out of the house more often.

“I’m sorry. I’m tired. Thank you, really. I had resigned to sitting here for a couple of hours.” He smiled up at you as you stood up and watched Hyunjin in endearment, who was now thoroughly engrossed in ‘Shooky’. Following your lead, Yoongi made to stand up, only to realize one of his feet had decided to fall asleep on him causing him to stumble back with a groan.

“Need a hand?” You raised a hand towards him, one that he took graciously, if only to feel how soft your hands were, and they were so soft. He groaned a little as he stood, taking extra care not to pull you to the ground with him, regardless of how much he wanted to. Jesus, Yoongi. Relax, dude.

“Thanks. I swear I’m not as old as I seem,” he deadpanned as you giggled a little at his bones cracking loudly.

“I didn’t think you were old.” You shrugged in response as he thought of ways to keep the conversation going. However, his mind was blank. You looked at him expectantly, and in true awkward fashion, Yoongi averted your gaze, instead looking at his daughter. His jaw dropped at the sight before him as he squinted at his offspring who seemed to be dozing happily in the stroller, clutching the cookie under her chin.

“She’s asleep… How did you do that?” He was dumbfounded. There was a reason Yoongi still seemed like he was sleep walking even two coffees down. Hyunjin had been having trouble falling asleep for weeks, waking him up at all hours of the night. The doctor said something about her delayed teething, but at this point Yoongi was convinced she just hated him for never letting her have sugar. 

“No biggie. I work in childcare. I’ve been trained.” He looked at you in awe and you chuckled, patting him on the shoulder in an attempt to break him out of his daze. Could he fall in love at first sight? He was beginning to think, yes.

“Yes biggie! She never falls asleep,” he exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. “What kind of witchcraft…” He looked from you to his daughter, still in disbelief as he muttered, earning a hearty laugh from you in response.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said, smiling as you closed your bag and fixed the strap, and he had to physically restrain his eyes from zeroing in on your chest again. He wasn’t going to lie, his eye balls felt strained at the effort.

“Yoongi. But seriously, thank you. I promise I’m not a bad father,” he provided, the shock now wearing off into anxiety as he thought about how much of a crap father he seemed to be so amazed at seeing his daughter fall asleep. You shook your head at him, a small sound of disapproval leaving your lips.

“I think you’re a great father, Yoongi. Don’t worry, toddlers are hard.” The praise made his heart stutter as blood rushed to his ears. The way you softly affirmed him made him feel seen. He didn’t know how much he needed to hear that, and to be honest, he felt a little emotional.

“I… thank you. I’d like to say you’re wrong but yeah, especially alone,” he spoke quietly. He didn’t know why he specified he was single. Maybe to see if you were as interested in him as he was in you. He didn’t think it was possible. Who would want to be with a single father who couldn’t even handle his own child in a public space? He felt his insecurities gnaw at him as he descended further into his head. His sudden silence may have alarmed you because before he could say anything, you touched his shoulder gingerly, the feel of your fingers scorching him through the thick layers of his sweater.

“Well you’re doing great. Professional opinion.” You smiled and Yoongi wanted to cry. Why were you so nice? He missed nice. He hadn’t had nice in a long time. He wanted to say something, ask you for your number, but that seemed too forward so he settled for gratitude, as you picked up his basket and handed it to him.

“Thank you…”

“Cute,” you giggled quietly. “It was nice meeting you Yoongi.” 

Much to his disappointment, you started walking away. He really shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Hope always led to dismay.

“You too, Y/N. Really great.” He sighed, almost wistfully, resigned to the fact that he would probably never see you again as you waved and turned around.

“Say bye to Hyunji for me.”

“I will.”

----------

He looked at his daughter with pride as she stood in front of him, her dark hair in two slightly lopsided braids, that had taken Yoongi an hour to master through youtube tutorials. He couldn’t help but feel a little choked up as she excitedly pulled on his arm all but running towards her classroom, her frilly pink dress swishing with each step. He couldn’t believe she was old enough for school already - preschool, but still. 

Yoongi tried to stop his brain from conjuring up pictures of her future; her graduating, her walking down the aisle. No, screw sleep, he didn’t need it. This was too fast. He held her hand tightly, reluctant to let her go as they reached the door. 

What was he supposed to do now that she was going to be gone all day? He could almost feel himself tear up at the thought of how much he was going to miss her, and she was still holding her hand. Maybe he could ask the teacher if he could just sit and watch. Sure he had to be at his home office to start work in thirty minutes, but he could just say he suddenly fell ill.

However, all thoughts as well as his breath left him as his eyes fell on a familiar figure - the beautiful, kind woman from the grocery store. You. 

This time around you were dressed in a dress that had little planets on it, looking a lot like Ms Frizzle with your hair in a top knot. Yoongi didn’t know whether to be ecstatic that universe had given him another opportunity to talk to you or be depressed because he knew he would never be with.

“Yoongi!” The joy and surprise in your voice made his face crinkle in a goofy smile that he had absolutely no control over, as he fiddled with his fingers, Hyunjin quickly abandoning him at the first sign of new friends. She definitely did not inherit her stellar social skills from him, as he stood there unable to form a response other than a shy utterance of your name.

“I was hoping to run into you again,” you said, beaming blindly and Yoongi blushed.

With his heartbeat accelerating, he realised that those eight words were probably the best he had ever heard.

-

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[whisperlullaby]

Stuffed Full

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (AU)

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), breeding kink, language, adult themes, and a TON of really bad baking puns. 

Words: 1162

Summary: Bucky finds his calling after his last tour, baking. It brings him to you and he can’t wait to start a family.

A/N: I cannot believe it is my wonderful cousin @buckyownsmylife’s birthday! This is a fic for her birthday challenge featuring breeding kink. I loved writing this it was SO MUCH FUN. I hope you love this my sweet cousin it is all for you! Please if you are under 18 do not read this fic. Thank you to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog and @river-soul​ for their beta work I appreciate you so much!

After Bucky got back from his last tour he was lost. Transitioning back to civilian life was harder than he thought and the trauma he endured followed him around like a shadow. Late one night, when the nightmares woke him up, he found himself pacing in the kitchen. Bucky pulled out his phone and started searching for ways to calm down. After passing several articles on meditation and mindfulness, he found a chocolate chip cookie recipe that was ‘perfect for a bad day.’ Pulling out the ingredients he started attentively following the directions. He felt such relief as he cracked the eggs and mixed the flour, creating some sad-looking cookies. After he took out the final batch he physically felt calmer.

He brought them to Steve to try and despite their unappetizing appearance, they were delicious. Bucky knew he had found a way to reintegrate back into civilian life with his baking. He spent months collecting recipes and testing out new ones, getting a little bit better each time he made something. His friend, Sam, even helped him set up an online store where people could order his various creations. That’s how he met you. You had placed an order for a birthday cake. He delivered the cake and when you opened the door his heart stopped. He almost dropped it right on the floor when you reached out to take the box from him, your fingers brushing over his.

“Thanks, nothing says happy birthday like eating an entire cake by yourself with a bottle of wine,” you chuckled humorlessly.

Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together. “You’re spending your birthday alone?”

You looked up at him with sad eyes. “I sure am but I have the best cake in town! Anyway, I’m sorry to keep you. You probably have a lot of deliveries to make.”

“You were actually my last stop.” Bucky took in a deep breath. “If you’re interested, I could take you out for your birthday? Get you some dinner before you eat the cake?”

Your mouth dropped open before it turned into a shy smile. “Um, sure why not. Can you give me a half-hour? I need to change.”

Bucky noticed for the first time that you were wearing pajamas and raked his hand over his face.

“Of course doll, I’ll wait out here.”

All it took was that one date for Bucky to fall head over heels for you. The way you laughed sent fireworks through his body, and all those cheesy jokes you told? He could listen to them for hours, especially if you kept doing that thing with your nose when you told them. Bucky could physically feel his heart skipping a beat each time you looked at him with those beautiful eyes. He spent months wooing you until you finally decided to move in with him. He figured it was because he kept you well supplied in various baked goods, but he knew you loved him just as much as he loved you.

You came home early one day and caught Bucky in the kitchen testing out new recipes. The mixture of smells was enough to make your stomach rumble.

“Hey love, what are you making?”

Bucky turned around and greeted you with a brilliant smile. “Hey doll just trying out a new cinnamon roll recipe, brownies are cooling, and I’m washing some jalapenos for some jalapeno cornbread.”

You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s waist. “I’d like to get jalapeno pants.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh, he loved all of your corny jokes. “Sweetheart, are you this cream cheese frosting? Cause you’re on a cinnamon roll!”

You scoffed at the pun. “Bucky, my love, maybe stick to the baked goods and leave the puns to me.”

He turned around and pulled you in for a sweet kiss. “Baby I really knead you right now.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed a handful of Bucky’s ass. “I just wanna take a bite out of your sweet buns.”

Bucky chuckled as he bent down to kiss you more passionately this time. Slowly he moved you back until you were pressed against the counter. His hands moved to the hem of your skirt pulling it up until it was bunched at your waist. He broke the kiss to spin you around and press you flat against the counter, the cool marble creating goosebumps on your skin. Bucky kneeled down, pulling your underwear down as he went. He brought his fingers to your clit, working slow circles over the bundle of nerves. Bucky laved his tongue over your core.

“Doll, you’re just like butter, I want you on everything.”

You laughed before Bucky continued his ministrations causing you to moan. “I always did say you were amazing in the kitchen.”

The vibration of Bucky’s low chuckle went straight to your core. He worked two fingers into you hitting your sweet spot with precision. Soon your orgasm washed through you and Bucky rose to pepper kisses on the back of your neck.

“Now sweetheart, let me get my sweet cream inside this creampuff.”

You burst out laughing as Bucky lined himself up. When he pushed in your laughs turned into a wanton moan. He placed a steadying hand in between your shoulders as his other grabbed your hips, setting a bruising pace. You could feel your orgasm building up again as Bucky’s thrusts got sloppier.

“I’m gonna put a bun in this oven,” he grunted. “Keep you full and round. Gonna look so beautiful walking around here growing my baby.”

“Buck, I’m gonna cum, fill me up. Wanna feel you cum inside me,” you mewled.

Your walls were milking Bucky’s cock as you came and after a few deep thrusts, he followed painting your walls with his spend. After a few minutes and sweet kisses he pulled out and helped clean you up.

“So, you want a baby?” You cocked an eyebrow at him and he blushed.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I want a family with you.” He gently ran his fingers across your cheek as you hummed in satisfaction.

You took in a deep breath and crinkled your eyebrows. “Bucky, did you put something in the oven?”

He gave a shy smirk, “Doll I thought that was obvious-”

You cut him off. “No Bucky, something's burning did you forget you put something in the oven?”

His eyes shot open as he ran to the stove and when he opened it puffs of black smoke billowed out. You doubled over laughing as he tossed the whole pan in the sink.

“Well, guess I know that leaving cinnamon rolls in the oven for that long burns them. Good to know.”

You placed a gentle kiss on Bucky’s cheek. “I can’t wait to start a family with you, but maybe we work on your attention to detail.”

Bucky gave a short laugh, “Our kids are gonna have one amazing mom that’s for sure.”

You grinned. “You butter believe it.”

[writing-on-the-wahl]

Writing Snippet #10

O Positive

Part 2

Ok so @im-a-wonderling had a FANTASTIC idea for a snippet, but I’m putting the ask below to not cause spoilers lol:)

Special thanks to @im-a-wonderling as well for the beta read, edits, suggestions, and expert medical knowledge to help make this way more realistic than my original draft! You’re amazing!!!

—————————————————

Hero shifted from side to side as she stood in line, fingers clutching a bottle of orange juice.

“Well you’re prepared.” Hero’s head shot up as the attendant waved her forward. “Normally people wait until after to go for the juice.”

She chuckled nervously. “That’s me... prepared.”

“ID?” She scrambled through her wallet, making sure she didn’t grab either of the two aliases she’d already used at different locations that morning.

She would have used the same ID, but last time she’d tried to explain that she healed super fast- a result of her powers- and could donate more, the resulting argument had lasted nearly an hour, with nurses questioning whether her “magic blood” could even be used at all (it was perfectly normal blood thank you very much), and they’d still only let her donate the normal amount.

She handed him the correct ID, and he shoved a clipboard full of paperwork at her. A phlebotomist led her to a reclining chair. Even though she’d filled out the information twice that morning, it still took approximately twelve years to finish the stack of forms. The phlebotomist returned, and began asking her an equally long list of questions. She only half paid attention to the stream of questions.

Have you received any blood transfusions?

No.

Have you traveled in the last 6 months?

No.

Are you free of HIV or any other blood diseases?

Yes.

Have you ever been pregnant?

Yes.

Wait! No!

The phlebotomist chuckled as she snapped on a pair of gloves. “Ok let’s see that arm.” Hero held out her mark-free arm. After the first donation that morning, the needle mark and resulting bruise had been gone in a matter of minutes. After the second, she’d had to wait over thirty minutes before the signs of her deception to fade. The phlebotomist wrapped a tourniquet above her elbow before consulting her paperwork.

“It says here you’d like to do a double donation?”

“Yes.”

“You have to be 150lbs in order to donate that much sweetie.” The older woman eyed Hero dubiously.

Her throat went dry. “I know. I am.”

“I’m just going to take one bag today; you’re looking a little pale, honey.”

“But the other phlebotomist let me—”She cut off and cleared her throat. “I mean, last time I donated. It was fine.”

The phlebotomist shook her head as she felt the inside of Hero’s arm for the vein.

Hero forced a cheery smile. “This is important. I’ll be fine.”

By tomorrow, she added silently. Or the day after that...

Last time she’d only been able to get in one regular and one double donation before she’d gotten called into help with a work emergency. She’d spent the rest of the day in bed, but had woken up fine the next morning. Of course, that was only half the amount of blood...

The woman narrowed her eyes before shaking her head.

“The shortage is the worst it’s been in years, but I’m only going to take one bag today.”

“But—”

“Unless you’d like to go stand on that scale over there?”

Hero blanched, then mutely shook her head.

The woman muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I thought not,’ before raising her voice to a normal volume. “And make sure to take it easy and drink that orange juice you’ve got there.” She nodded at the bottle in Hero’s hand as she swabbed her arm with an alcohol wipe and picked up a needle.

“I will.”

————— 30 minutes (or so) later —————

Hero made it ten steps out of the building before she collapsed against the wall, head swimming. She peeled the tape and cotton ball off her arm. Blood immediately began to trickle down her forearm.

She struggled to unscrew the cap of her juice, hands shaking. Finally, she succeeded, the cap slipping through her fingers and bouncing against the sidewalk. She brought the bottle to her lips, but only managed a few sips before her stomach revolted. She clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw up.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the curious stares from pedestrians on the crowded downtown street.

She needed to get home.

A quaking boom shook the ground, and Hero cracked open her eyes to see a plume of smoke a few blocks over.

Most likely the bank on main. Or the diamond store next door.

She took a step towards the plume of smoke, but the ground was still rocking, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the explosion. She closed her eyes as panicked civilians began running to and fro.

Her phone rang out in a pealing tone, sending her a foot into the air, her orange juice falling to the ground with a sticky splash.

The emergency line.

Groaning, she accepted the call.

“Hero! Villain just set off a bomb on Main Street.”

“Diamonds or bank vault?”

“BOTH! You need to get over there now!”

Hero covered her eyes. She wanted to, she really did. If only the ground would stop moving.

“It’s my day off. Send Other Hero.” She cringed at her seemingly callous words, but she didn’t think the Hero Agency would exactly condone what she’d just done.

Even if she was just trying to save lives.

“Other Hero is undercover spying on Supervillain. Your phone shows you are six blocks away. That will take you 12 seconds to get your speedy butt over there.”

A second explosion rocked the ground.

Oh he didn’t. Hero growled, pushing off the wall and taking a hesitant step forward.

The ground was finally still. Much better. She pulled out the spare mask she always kept in her purse and fitted it across her eyes.

12 seconds, she scoffed.

————— 9 (and a half) seconds later————

Hero skidded to a halt in front of the shattered front windows of Pristine Diamonds.

The windows of the bank next door were in a similar condition. She rested a hand against the ash stained wall, gasping as the world spun.

She forced her head up, scanning the scene. A gaping hole had been blown in the wall connecting the two businesses, and smoke was still pouring out of both buildings. She darted into the diamond store, moving without her super speed through the black air. She made it to the back of the store, where the massive safe stood empty, the door hanging drunkenly off one hinge.

She cursed and made her way to the jagged hole. She was halfway across the bank lobby when a figure leapt from the smoke and she was thrown to the side.

She scrambled to her feet as Villain faded back into the smoke. His laughter echoed around her as she spun in desperate circles. The smoke thickened until it was nearly solid around her.

“You’re slow today, Hero.” The voice rang out behind her, and she whirled around, but there was nothing but smoke.

Her vision was truly swimming now. She swiped at her eyes. “And you’re extravagant. You can create smoke from nothing, you didn’t actually need to set off a bomb.”

“I was creating a passage between the businesses. They should thank me.” The voice was to her right, and she spun again. There was no point in super speed if she couldn’t see. Her head was starting to pound.

“And that outfit.” The whisper brushed against her neck, and she whirled around again, only to see the smoke curling in around the place where Villain had just stood.

She glanced down self-consciously at her pink shorts and baggy tie-dye T-shirt.

“You already ruined my day off. There’s no need to mock my clothes as well.” She huffed, taking determined strides in the direction she hoped was the door.

“Who said I was mocking?”

She sensed him behind her the instant before he attacked. She spun. He hit. She flew. Across the room. To the floor. Over chunks of rubble. And into a brick wall.

Her back cracked against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

Smoke swirled through the air as Villain emerged, the dark tendrils receding to lap at his heels.

He looked surprised; he’d never actually managed to land a blow that direct before.

Hero forced herself off the ground. It was time to retreat. She summoned her powers, but between her swimming head and the sharp pain in her leg, she made it only a few feet before sinking back to the ground with a quiet whimper of pain.

She forced her blurry gaze up to Villain, who was regarding her with a strange expression on his face.

“I thought you healed as fast as you can run.”

She blinked, and realized he wasn’t looking at her, but at her leg.

She looked down. Blood seeped from a long shallow gash on the outside of her calf, no doubt from a sharp piece of rubble.

Smaller cuts and bruises covered the rest of her body, and none of them were healing.

“That’s strange.” She wiped clumsily at the cut.

Villain’s eyes narrowed. “You seem oddly off your game, Hero. You haven’t lost that much blood.”

She mustered the energy to glare at Villain. “I did tell you this was my day off.”

“I wonder if it’s from the blood earlier.” She mused, floating on a hazy cloud.

The tendrils of smoke scattered as Villain knelt down beside her.

“What blood? You came to fight me when you were already injured?”

His voice sounded as though he was speaking through a tunnel.

“There’s a national blood shortage. Worst it’s been in years.”

“So?”

“So, I donated.”

Villain scoffed as he produced a cloth from somewhere and began wrapping it around her leg. “You have regenerative healing powers, a pint of blood wouldn’t have made you this weak.”

Hero shook her head and weakly held up five fingers.

Villain froze. “FIVE PINTS OF BLOOD!” He roared, smoke dancing angrily around them. “ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY INSANE!? YOU SHOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW!”

Her head throbbed with every word, and she flinched away.

“I heal fast.” It was barely a whisper, but his fiery eyes met hers.

“I don’t care how fast you heal. No one can survive losing half their blood.” At least now his rage was contained to a low snarl. He grabbed Hero’s hands and pulled her to her feet.

“Your hands are freezing! What were you thinking!? Why would you face me after donating that much blood?!? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

He continued to seethe as he swept Hero into his arms and strode through the bank. He paused only to swing a bulging duffle bag onto one shoulder before he swept out through a second gaping hole into a back alley. A dark SUV was waiting in the shadows. He tossed the bag into the back and slid Hero into the passenger seat.

She curled against the warm leather.

“I was just trying to help.” She mumbled, her voice muffled as she spoke into the headrest.

“I know.” A hand ran down her hair. “Close your eyes. Sleep.”

She forced her eyes wider, remembering. “I can’t. I have a job to do.”

Villain shut her door and rounded the car to the driver’s side. Slipping into place, he started the engine.

“Not today.” He managed a small smile even as his eyes crinkled in concern.

“It’s your day off, remember?”

Original request from @im-a-wonderling:

“I started thinking about a story where the hero donates blood and then the villain does something that the hero has to go and face them. The villain notices the hero is off their game, but assumes they’re just tired or something. Then, the hero gets injured. The injury is really minor in terms of blood loss, but the hero is pale and sickly and can’t stand up and the villain gets all protective like “WHY would you come and FACE ME if you DONATED BLOOD today?!” And the hero mumbles “They’re having a blood shortage.” And the villain is ready to wring the hero’s neck for not taking care of themselves. So they just scoop the hero up in their arms and brings them back to their lair to feed them and let them sleep.”

Again thanks so much for the request!! I hope I did it justice:)

[theduosetter]

━ 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 ║𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 𝐓𝐞𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐨

☆ Pairing: Au!Kuroo Tetsuro x f!reader

☆ Summary: Two broken hearts never truly heal no matter how many years pass. Maybe because the only person who can heal it is the one who caused the tear.

☆ Warning(s): angst, fluff,

☆ A|N: any feedback is appreciated! If you can please give it a heart or reblog it would really help my writing. Thank you!

Kuroo sighed for what seemed the millionth time today. His mind kept wandering off somewhere else, today felt different. There was something within him saying that today wasn't going to be the same again.

His phone vibrated once more alerting him of another incoming message. The screen lit up with the name Nanami. His lips moved as he saw the words spread out on the white background. Closing his eyes he leaned back against his office chair.

"What's with your face?" a voice spoke.

Kuroo rolled his eyes, "Nothing is wrong with my face, Kenma."

"Liar." he placed the folder down on his desk, "Is it Nanami?"

"No..." he half smiled "She's great actually... things are good between us right now."

"For someone who says that it sure doesn't look like it." Kenma said "Could have fooled me."

He sat up and looked at his friend, "Is there something that still needs to be done?"

Kenma shook his head "No everything important got taken care of."

Standing up he grabbed his blazer and put it on. "If anyone else calls can you take care of it?"

"Ok." before Kuroo could make it out the door, Kenma then asked him "Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll be alright. See you tomorrow..." he slightly smiled then took off.

Your feet grew tired as you kept walking the busy streets. The sun was just about to set down on the ocean. Even though it was warm, the air was nothing but fresh, the perk of living near coast.

A small smile formed on your lips as you saw kids running around the nearby playground, playing with their friends. It was the purest sound in the world; you thought.

There was never a doubt in your mind that being a mom was a gift. You hoped one day you too would have the chance at raising a mini you or a little boy that looked like your partner.

Your phone then rang. You quickly took it out of your bag and accepted the call.

"Hey love." you said "I'm on my way back home."

"I can't wait to see you." he said, making your chest tighten "I might be preparing something delicious for tonight."

"Really?" you asked "What's the occasion?"

He smiled, leaning back against the sink. "What, I can't just do something special for the love of my life?"

Your smile faltered as you remembered those words. Those were the ones that hurt you the most, even after almost 10 years.

"Of course you can." you replied "Can I have a hint on what it may be?"

"You would figure it out right away like last time. I'm not making that mistake again." he chuckled.

"It was one time, h/n." you smiled small, "Do you need me to bring something home from the store? I'm close to it."

"Pick out any drink you want to have and dessert if you'd like."

"Okay now I'm really curious about what you have up your sleeve, boy." you chuckled.

He bit his lip, smiling as he heard your laughter. "Don't take too long, alright?"

"I'll do my best love since it is rush hour. Wait for me?"

"Like you have to ask." he leaned over checking the food "I can't wait to see you. Text me when you get to the station."

"I will, love." you bid him goodbye and hung up.

It's sad how he has tried his best to make you happy and yet there's never a moment where something doesn't remind you of him. All these years you still wonder about how he's doing with his new partner. If he could accomplish the goals he had set out for himself. Even the thought if he maybe... still thought about you like you did.

Sighing, you shook your head "Stop it... you can't keep doing this to him. You're with h/n now not with him, he chose you agreed. No more second guessing." You mumbled.

You were about to turn left at the end of the playground when a stranger collided into you. Your feet slipped from underneath you. The bar that was put up around the playground was too far away for you to hold on to. Folding your elbows back, you opened your hands wide so you could stop your head from hitting the pavement.

Lucky enough, the tall stranger reacted in time and pulled you into him to avoid you injuring yourself. "I'm so sorry, are you alright?"

"Y-yeah... I'm fine..." you replied "That was close- wow I almost fell-" you tilted your head up and your breathing stopped.

The stranger kept their arm around your back, holding you against his chest. His eyes roamed the details on your face, from your eyes to shape of your lips. His heart was pounding against his chest, not believing you were in front of him.

"K-Kuroo..." you muttered.

"Y/n... I never thought I'd see you here." his brain couldn't wrap around the idea that you were here.

Realizing your chest was too close to his, you gently stepped back. Your cheeks flushed "I- um... I-I work around here."

"Right..." he mumbled "I thought you had stayed in Tokyo, is all."

"I got a job offer awhile back." You said "I've been living here ever since. What about you?..."

He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling shy suddenly. "I'm working with a company on a project along with Kenma."

"Wow... I knew Kenma was in town but didn't think you'd be here as well."

His head shot up "You spoke to Kenma?"

"Yeah..." you answered "He reached out to me and asked if we could meet up. I've been busy so I haven't had the chance..."

"Why didn't Kenma say anything to me?..." there was hurt in his eyes from the sudden news. "I thought Kenma of all people-"

You cut him off "I told Kenma that I didn't want you knowing. Don't blame him..."

"I see..."

The cars passed by, not knowing or caring about the two ex lovers on the sidewalk. Every person was moving on with their lives, focusing on getting home to their families.

You tried your best to calm your emotions. It was difficult to keep the facade up. Your body was itching to be again in his arms. "I should get going... goodbye Kuroo." you walked passed him hoping to forget you ever saw him.

However, Kuroo didn't want to let you go again this time. "Y/n, wait!" he yelled as he ran after you.

"He's not calling my name..." you repeated under your breath "He's not calling my name." Ignoring the loud sounds coming from the cars, you crossed the street.

"Y/n!" Kuroo yelled louder as he reached for you and held your wrist gently in his hand.

Looking over your shoulder, you made eye contact. "What are you doing, Kuroo?..."

"We need to talk." he gently spoke "It's been too many years."

"There's nothing to say about anything." you looked into his eyes "We both have our different lives, let's focus on that okay?"

"I don't want to walk away from you and regret it for the rest of my life again." Kuroo begged, "Please, give me a few minutes to talk with you...please."

Looking down at your watch, you saw you had some minutes to spare. "Okay..."

He let go of you, "Come on, I know where we should go." you followed him to the nearby bridge that was above an intersection along with shops down the street. You walked up the stairs and sat down on a bench that was in the middle of the two stairways.

It was awkward. As the seconds passed by, all you could think of were the things you wanted to say but felt afraid of saying it out loud. You were timid when it came to expressing how you felt since you were in high school. Yet when you met Kuroo that barrier was destroyed only for it to be rebuilt again a few years later.

"What did you need to tell me?" you asked, playing with your fingers.

"I'm sorry for how we ended things." your movement stopped "I thought back then that it was for the best. I didn't want to continue fighting every time with you. The amount of times we ended up apart became more frequent than the times we had ever spent together." His gazed was fixed on ground feeling too vulnerable to look at you "I didn't want to keep hurting you."

"I can't believe- why now?" you asked "Was that the reason you chose? You didn't want to stay and fixed things so you let me go?"

"We couldn't make things better and you know that y/n." he answered "Every time we tried it put distance between us more and more."

You closed your eyes trying to not let the tears fall "It's the fact that you lost hope in us that hurt Kuroo, not the breakup."

"It hurt me too..." he explained "But it hurt me more knowing you were suffering and not giving you the happiness that you deserved."

"I didn't care..." you sniffled "All I wanted was to be with you and solved it together. I kept on trying to find an answer as to what I did that was so wrong that made you leave me."

"What are you talking about-"

"You seriously don't remember?" you looked at him "The things you said to me that day... when I asked you why and all you said was because I didn't love you anymore, I don't want to stay by you. It's for the best Y/n go find your own life and forget about me."

He looked away, closing his eyes tightly. "I didn't mean to sound harsh..."

"But you did." you wiped away your tears "What hurt was the fact that you acted happy the last few days with me then suddenly... you ripped it off like a bandaid Kuroo..."

"I know..." he said "I know I fucked up- I kept thinking back every day after what happened."

You got up from the bench "Why did you pretend you were happy with me?"

"I wasn't pretending!" he exclaimed, getting up as well. "I was happy being with you."

"Could have fooled me... because knowing this now and you not remembering what you told me makes it harder to believe anything you say!"

"I need you. Trust me when I say that I still love you y/n." he stated.

"I-I can't..." you muttered, covering your face.

You were a sobbing mess, and it broke his heart that he was hurting you again when he vowed never to. Kuroo stepped forward slowly, trying to approach you.

"Please don't cry..." he said.

"I'm just tired of this... feeling this vulnerable and thinking about you," you admitted, "when I should focus on my future and not on the past..."

Kuroo stood in front of you, "Do you still love me?..." you didn't answer. He carefully took your hands into his own as he uncovered your face. "Do you still love me?..." he repeated himself.

His touch was arm, your head was dizzy. It's been so long since you were this close to him again. 'Did I still love him?' you thought, trying to figure out the answer on your own.

He gently wiped away your tears, "Because I haven't stopped Y/n... no matter where I'm going or who I'm with my mind goes back to you."

"Where was this 7 years ago?" you questioned "This love and worry you have about me? How you don't want to see me walk away from you again. Why did you show it too late to me? I wasted so much time wondering over someone who never once batted an eye to me when I saw you on campus those two years after our break up. I almost failed because my emotions were all over the place. If it hadn't been for the friends I had I wouldn't have moved on. Now you suddenly see me again one day and you confess you still love me? When you had chance after chance to tell me but chose not to." you clenched your jaw "You don't get to comeback and tell me you love me... it's not fair."

"I lived with the ache in my chest whenever I saw someone or something that reminded me of you. Out of all the y/n's in the world and each time someone said your name I turned around it hopes it was you but came empty every time it was a stranger." he breathed out trying to not break down in front of you but it became impossible. His voice cracked "I-I... still wish everyday that it had been you... y-you by my side a-and not someone else..."

"I wished we had met when we were older and wiser..." you whispered "Maybe then... this pain wouldn't exist within us."

He held your hand to his chest holding it tightly as he closed his eyes, trying to memorize your warmth. "We didn't know what to do... we were young and naive thinking love was such an easy thing to feel." he sniffled "It would be so easy... so damn e-easy... to say I'm sorry and start all over again. To go back to the days where were in l-love... without any problems..."

In all your years you had known Kuroo it was such a rare sight for him to cry and breakdown in front of you. After years, you were surprised to see he didn't feel shy or embarrassed of showing it to you again. It's like he had grown.

Gently you cupped his right cheek and he leaned into your touch. "I still do love you Kuroo..." you confessed "It scares me that I haven't been able to move on without you."

"I'm so sorry..." the pool of tears he held in his eyes were finally escaping "Maybe things would have worked o-out... if we had- no I had expressed my feelings earlier and told you how I felt from the beginning. If I had opened up myself up to you more and not runaway from the only person that had ever made me feel a whole. But I can't... I-I can't turn back time that was then and t-this is now..."

It was late. Yet hearing those words that you had dreamed for years to happen finally did. Life was definitely funny sometimes. One day you can keep convincing yourself you don't need that person that you're fine without them, then have it change with one interaction.

Smiling weakly you wiped away his tears. He smiled small feeling your thumb gently move against his cheek. "I can't believe I'm saying this but..." a chuckle escaped your lips "After all we've been through and still you make my heart beat like a teenager all over again."

"I would do anything to see you smile, Y/n." his eyes shined brightly as the sun's light reflected off his hazel orbs.

Your faces began to grow closer to one another. The space that was in between you two got shorter the longer you stared into each other's eyes.

"There's not anything else in this world that makes me happy as you do, y/n." he said.

Your foreheads gently rested against one another. His hands held your own tightly and brought them up to his lips. It made your stomach grow butterflies again.

Closing your eyes you focused on his touch not on the sounds of traffic. "I’d have my heart broken all over again if it meant that I could have those first six months with you."

He added "Those were the best months of my life."

Your phone then vibrated with messages coming in all at once. Kuroo freed one of your hands, you unlocked your device to see they were from h/n.

"Shoot..." you bit your lip.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"My...um boyfriend... is asking where I am..." you answered feeling conflicted as to what would be the best thing to do.

"You call him and reassure him you're okay." he said "If I was in his place I'd be worried too."

You were surprised by how mature he was, nodding you dialed his number. After a few seconds h/n picked up. Kuroo stood by your side and waited for you to finish.

"Y/n! Where are you I've been worried sick!" he exclaimed.

"I'm sorry... I saw a friend and they needed to talk to me. I didn't mean to make you worry." you explained.

He breathed out in relief knowing you were okay. "It's okay, I'm glad you're okay. Are you on your way back home or are you still with them?"

"I'm still with them I didn't realize it would take long. But I'll be going to the station soon to grab the last train home." you answered.

"Alright, are you sure you don't want me to go pick you up?" he asked "I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"No don't worry I'll be home soon. I'll make sure to keep you posted okay?"

"Okay, please be careful. I love you." he said.

"I will, see you soon." you hung up then looked at him. "I should get going, Kuroo."

"I understand." he kissed your forehead softly "You don't owe me an explanation okay? Let's take it one step at a time. And if you still want to see me then I'll be here waiting for you. Like I should have done in the beginning."

Your heart swelled with joy that you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He smiled softly hugging you back tightly, "I missed you so much." you spoke burying your face in his neck.

"I missed you too, Y/n." he rested his chin on top of your head "Can I take you home?"

"I'd like that."

It didn't matter how long it took, he wasn't going to mess this second chance he had with you. He would wait a year if he needed to to be alongside you again. You were his world.

[cuddlesslut]

Part FOUR : Chance Encounters

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader

Tags: slight NSFW, Heavy Angst.

A/N: so this will NOT be the last chapter there will be more. Just like there are more choices now lol, don’t be shy to tell me who you route for. Also let me know if y’all want more NSFW I’m chill with writing it . ALSO slight canon divergence the timing on when Hinata comes back from Brazil is different, obviously in the Manga he’s only gone for two years. In this story it is longer. Hinata isn’t on MSBY yet. Also we are only caught up on 5 months since the dreaded birthday.

Part Three: Memories

Part Five: Friends

You spent your birthday in some hotel room. Sitting on the plush bed still in your dress not bothering to change your curl in to a fetal position as sobs raked through you. Your whole world crashed down on you everything you knew was a lie. Your phone lit up with one last birthday message from some distant relative. You see the time it’s now one in the morning you’ve been laying here for hours you can’t understand how you have any liquid in your body left to cry but still tears trail down your cheeks as you look at your lock screen. It’s a photo from three Christmas’s ago. Atsumu held you close from behind as you pose in front of a festive Christmas tree. Your eyes are shut tight from laughter as the setter places a kiss to your cheek bone, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. This was your favorite photo of the two of you, it always showed the realness in this candid shot. You remember laughing so hard from some cheesy joke he had just whispered in your ear. Your heart twists at the photo, a moment of anger slices through you. Was any of it real? You fling your phone at the wall effectively shattering the screen. You scream into the pillow. You wish you could feel numb to all of the emotions. But no ones that lucky. You aren’t sure when you feel asleep but you wake to find the remnants of tears stuck to your face. You move to the bathroom. You look like death. Your face is pale and eyes swollen and red. Your body aches from the fitful sleep you had. You grab a quick shower before putting on your comfiest pajamas and lay back down. All the energy is drained you look for your phone before remembering your fit of rage last night groan. You switch on the TV for some form of distraction but the gods must really hate you as it opens to a sports channel and you see him in all of his intensity standing on the volleyball court. Part of your brain pleads to change the channel but you must be a masochist as you watch him in all his usual glory. He commands the stadium as he goes up to serve. He looks perfectly fine like you hadn’t just walked out of his life. Like he hadn’t just ripped your world to shreds. You're finally turning the television off sitting in the silence thinking of the memories of your home. You ordered some takeout trying to settle the ache in your stomach. The food tasted bland, everything has lost its edge. The bed offers no comfort. The sunlight offers no warmth. It’s not long before you fall into another depression nap.

Waking up late in the evening you can’t stop your mind from making a stupid decision. But you miss him. You just want to see him. That’s how you end up outside of the door that leads to the home you shared with him. Trying to work up the courage to enter. His car was in his usual spot so you know he's here. A bitter thought run through you at the thought that while you were here he couldn’t be bothered to be home before two am at the earliest, yet the first night gone and here he is at home at ten o’clock. Silently you open the door. It was a mistake. You don’t make it even completely through the threshold before you hear the obnoxious moan and grunts, the sound of skin slapping. It makes you sick “OH Miya-San!” You hear some woman bellow out. You feel nauseous. You hurry out the door trying you best not to cause any noise to interrupt the activities in the house. You bend over you feel as though you’ll throw up right there on the spot. After calming yourself you make a way to a convenience store picking up a bottle of wine before heading back to you hotel room. There’s no way you’ll make it through the night sober.

The next morning you clean your self up before heading to the bank and clear out your joint account. Normally you’d feel bad taking the money but this cash was saved for your wedding and that would never happen now. You stopped by the phone store getting your own account not wanting anymore strings attached to the player. You spend the rest of your morning looking for a small affordable apartment. Luckily you were able to find one with in distance of your school and a reasonable price. It’s now the afternoon and you have to rush not wanting to be late for your class. Although it probably wouldn’t have made a difference if you had missed today, you barely pay attention. You find yourself back with the hotel walls.

You feel completely and utterly alone. You want nothing more to call your best friend or stop by Samu’s shop and cry on his shoulder while you eat some comfort food. But there is hesitation Suna was Atsumu's friend before he was yours, and you'll probably break down in tears just looking at Osamu he was his damn twin for heavens sake. What were you to them you wonder. You only got close to them because of the setter. Part of you wanted to believe that they cared about you and all of those friendships would still be there but you couldn’t. How could they want you around. You really question your place in their lives. It’s hard to trust in anything you had also believed Atsumu loved you and would never hurt you, yet that much was proven untrue. It's hard to trust in anything you feel or know. Another reason is your afraid of all of the memories you shared with them Atsumu ever present in those moments. You don’t want to think about him any more. You don’t want any remnants of that man In your life. While you want to believe Suna would be there for you, that he’d choose you. It was not a risk you were ready to take. You don’t think you could survive another heartbreak. It’s better to leave things as is, to cherish the good memories and not risk tainting them with pain.

It’s been two months since your birthday. You’ve moved into a quaint apartment. You got a job working at a little cafe to pay for rent. Between work and studying for your degree you try to keep yourself busy. It’s hard being on your own. You try to distract yourself with the things that brought you joy. Some days are better than others but all in all everything still hurts. Graduation is only a couple of months away so at least there’s something to look forward too. There are moments that come quite often that you miss your friends but you can’t bring yourself to reach out still untrusting. You look back sometimes and wonder where the lies stopped. You avoid everything that has to do his Atsumu Miya. Even the sight of a simple volleyball brings distress.

Three and half months later the cosmos played another prank on you. It was just another Friday afternoon and you were working in the cafe. You had just helped a young beautiful woman at the counter. She seemed so familiar but you couldn’t quit place it. You could see a puzzled look on her face. Then it hit you. You knew exactly who this woman was. She was the one with your ex fiancé at the restaurant that fateful night. The realization must have struck her too. Her eyes grew wide with worry. Although you weren’t expecting what she did next.

“I AM SO SORRY,” she basically yelling as she bows in front of you. “ I’m so sorry for the part I played in your pain.” She continues. You can tell she is really distressed. You coworkers and a few costumers look at the spectacle. Hating all of the attention now directed toward the both, you beg her to please stand.

“I need you to understand I had no idea, I would never have gone for a taken man.”

You sighed and sent a look to your coworker that you were going to take a quick break. “Would you like a cup of coffee,” you ask her. You never thought That you’d be sitting having coffee with the mistress of the only man you ever loved yet here you are. There’s an awkward silence for a moment. You don’t rush things you can see she’s also having a hard time trying to figure out where to start. You take a sip of your coffee as she finally speaks.

“My names Yuki,” she states.

“YN ,” you offer back.

“Well, umm YN I just want to say I am so sorry for wh-” you cut her off holding up your hand.

“You said you didn’t know, correct?” You send a glance at her raising your eyebrow. She nods.

“Are you still with him?” She sits up straight.

“Absolutely not,” she states with conviction “after you left I asked him what just happed and he explained who you were and I left.. well not with out dumping my drink in face" she gave a little giggle.

“Ha! Oh I wish I could have seen that,” you laughed picturing him drenched in the restaurant. “In that case you have nothing to apologize for, you are a victim of Atsumu’s selfishness as well. I’m sorry he put you through that.” She gave a sad smile you could see she was hurt too. The two of you spent a few more moments in each other’s comfort discussing the facts of his affair. It hurts to know that he had a legitimate relationship with Yuki but a part of you was glad to know. It was a small piece of closure to know how deep his transgressions ran, knowing it wasn’t just sex hurt even more. But it furthered your stance that he didn’t love you and if he had at one point the love had faded on his part some time ago. You spent the rest of your shift plagued with thoughts of you past.

After your shift you went home to change before heading out to your local bar. In your time alone you had taken solace in drinking with strangers. After dressing in an appealing yet comfortable outfit you headed out. You wanted to feel comfy and relaxed but that didn’t stop you from wanting to look nice. In your past visits it wasn’t uncommon for men to try and talk you up and while you did indulge in the compliments none had succeeded in getting you to return home with them. There had yet to be a guy who fully kept your attention away from your former lover.

You found your favorite spot at the bar, just far enough from the blaring music and smokers. You smiled at the bartender before ordering your usual. You sat there letting the liquor relax you as you listened to what music the DJ was playing tonight. Normally you stick to just drinks but after the day you had you need something to take the edge off. After downing a shot of tequila you notice a presence next to you.

“Is this seat taken,” the man smiled at you. You had never seen him here before and you know damn well you would have noticed him before. Although he wasn’t a giant like most of the men you knew in your life, he wasn’t excessively short either you could tell he’d still stand taller than you. You couldn’t lie the man was extremely defined and muscular, you swear his tanned thighs that you saw peeking from under his khaki shorts were bigger than your face. His skin was tanned you can tell from pleanty of time in the sun. He had strong jaw line but his most prominent feature was this bright mop of orange hair he tried to hide under a ball cap. He had a bright smile that reached his alluring brown eyes. It was safe to say he was very handsome. He tilts his head to the side a little smirk reaching his lips. It then you realized you had never responded and just been sitting here gawking.

“Um no it’s not uhh go ahead,” you stammered out feeling a blush creep on to your cheeks at your response. What is this feeling why are you acting like a school girl.

He takes the seat next to you ordering a beer then turning to you reaching out his hand. “ Shoyo Hinata,” he states.

You accept his hand giving it a light shake. “ YN LN,” you responded. “ I’ve never seen you here before Hinata-San,” you prod wanting to know about the stranger.

“Just Shoyo is fine,”he gives you another dazzling smile. “I actually just moved back to Japan,” he states “this is my first time at this bar , but with customers as beautiful as you I’ll definitely have to come more often.” Ohh hes smooth you think. You let out a light chuckle at his compliment although it’s fairly simple compared to some of lines you’ve heard it definitely has the desired affect on you.

“Well then Shoyo where are you traveling from?” Question not wanting the convo to stop.

“I just got back from Brazil,” he mused that signature smile never far from his face.

“Wow Brazil! That’s so far was it hard to be so far from home?”you questioned.

The conversation with Hinata flowed effortlessly. Pleanty of laughes shared as he told you countless stories of his time in South America. Being in conversation with him is like talking to the sun it’s so bright and happy. He does eventually mention playing beach volleyball and for a moment you mind thinks of your ex but it then you realized it was the first time since Sho made his appearance that you had thought of the setter. It felt nice to finally have your mind clearing from the twin. As of recent at any mention of volleyball you would have ended the convo making an excuse to leave, yet you didn’t want to, plus beach volleyball is completely different than regular volleyball you reason.

Time passes by as well do several drinks. You are by no means drunk just a little tipsy. Over the course of your talking the space between Hinata started to narrow. Right now you were so close you could smell his cologne and the slight minty scent of his breath. His hand caressed your elbow. Your breath hitched when he finally leaned in “do wanna get out of here?,” you can see his iris’s darken ever so slightly. “We can go back to my place,” he continued.

Several thoughts ran threw your mind in that moment. One, you were nervous, you hadnt been with anyone other than Atsumu. Two, you were sure you weren’t ready for a relationship but it was just sex it’s not like he’s asking on a romantic vacation. And three you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours. “Absolutely.”

That’s how you got to where you are now. You barely made it through the threshold before Hinata had you pinned to the door. You were locked in a searing kiss. It was like he was stealing the air from your lungs. His hands roamed your figure before slipping under your blouse. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he breaths before pressing a kiss under your jaw trailing down you neck. You place you hands on his shoulders trying to ground yourself. You let out a loud moan as he gives a bite to your shoulder while grabbing a hand full of you breast. He smiled into you neck with pleasure from the sounds you made. The two of you stumbled a bit as you started making your way to his room shedding clothes left and right. The door closed to the bedroom and you were ready for a mindblowing night.

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[trashforhockeyguys]

Don’t Hold Me -19- Carter Hart

A/N: as always, all previous parts are linked in my master list. Also, umm don’t hate me for what happens at the very end. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE  at the end as well, so if that could potently be triggering for you please be warned.

There was a moment, right when you first opened your eyes that you could’ve sworn you were a teenager again. You could hear Travis arguing with Ethan just feet from you, with the sound of someone playing NHL in the background. You felt so warm due to a blanket that someone had to have tossed over you at some point during the night. You wondered if you would see your house when you opened your eyes.

But there was an arm wrapped around you. So you couldn’t be at home. You were in Travis’s apartment. Ethan came in to help you and Kora move all of your things into a storage unit for the summer. He was going to stay for part of the playoffs. Carter was sleeping next to you. You’d both fallen asleep during a movie. 

You wiggled out from under Carter’s arm, following the sound of the voices to the kitchen. Kora, who still looked half asleep, was tucked under Ethan’s arm. Nolan was playing NHL in the living room, yelling at one of the other Flyers through a headset. In your gut, you knew this was what a normal morning with them. This is what life should be like. 

“Y/N! Tell him that he’s wrong!” Travis begged, pointing to Ethan. 

You shook your head, still too tired to even start to get into their mess, “Please tell me someone made coffee?”

Kora stepped away from E, “I’ll pour you a cup.”

“Carter still knocked out?” Ethan asked as you sat down on one of the bar stools. 

“Yeah, you two arguing woke me up,” You responded slowly, “What were you two arguing over anyway?”

“Don’t ask,” Kora handed you a cup of coffee, “They’re being guys.”

“They’re arguing over who had more points when they played together,” Nolan announced from the couch. 

“Oh, that’s easy, it was Ethan,” You shrugged, “Travis had the most penalty minutes.”

Kora had to hold back a laugh at the face that Travis made. Truth was, although Travis was an incredible player, even then, he was still very scrappy. He made a lot of bad plays and often let his head get the better of him. Ethan was always more level headed, and was responsible for more than his fair share of assists. But when the two of them were on the ice together, nothing was going to stop them. You missed watching them together like that. 

“Someone had to do all the dirty work,” Travis explained, “But I don’t get that many penalties now.”

Kora reached over and messed up his hair, “No, you behave now. Like a good little feisty Canadian.”

“Careful, he bites when provoked,” Carter joked, finally seeming to have woken up. 

“Better watch it, we have practice in a couple of hours, I won’t take it easy on you,” Travis warned. 

“Okay Teeks, sure,” Carter kissed the top of your head, “Morning babe.”

You felt your cheeks heat up a little as you tilted your head to look up at him. This was something you could really get used to, all of you being together like this. You and Kora had to move out of the dorm, since the year was finally over. So Travis was letting her and Ethan crash at his place, while you stayed with Carter. Although, last night all of you ended up over here to watch movies and eat pizza. Nolan casually reminded everyone that pizza was not a part of the approved playoff diet. 

“Sleep okay?” Carter asked you, taking a sip of your coffee. 

You nodded and leaned back into him, “Out like a light.”

Carter wrapped his arms around you, dropping his head so his chin rested on your shoulder. His hair tickled your cheek, causing you to smile. Across from you, both Ethan and Travis were watching you with the same sort of fond smile. 

Kora looked between the two other men, “Just say it, they’re cute,” She huffed, “Nolan, you wanna play me?”

“I’d like to see what you’re made of,” Nolan replied, holding up an extra controller. 

The following night, you, Kora, and Ethan file into the arena, ready for the next game in the series. Carter was starting in net tonight, and Travis literally wouldn’t stop bouncing all day long. You made a joke that someone needed to take out his batteries. Kora held onto Ethan, smiling as random Flyers fans high fived each other for wearing jerseys. 

“Now this is a good way to celebrate another year of hell being over,” Kora joked, “We’re all drinking tonight, right?”

“You two can have all you’d like,” E told us, “I’ll be semi sober so I can take care of both of you.”

Kora looked up at him in a way that you could only describe as love. It was weird, seeing your best friend and your brother like that. Yet, it made you happy at the same time. You liked the idea of them being happy together, come what may.

“We should get to our seats,” You told them, “Drinks later.”

“I’m going to be the only one getting drunk tonight, aren’t I?” Kora questioned. 

Both you and Ethan laughed, knowing you weren’t going to have more than a drink, maybe two. The only time you ever really got drunk was with Kora, but you wanted to be sober for this. You wanted to watch every second as the game unfolded. You wanted to be able to run to Carter and hold him after the game was over, because who knew how many more times you could do that.

Kora leaned over to you once you were all in your seats, “You have that look again, are you okay?”

You forced a smile and tried to push away the sudden sickening feeling you had in your stomach, “yeah, I’m fine.”

But you couldn’t shake the sudden feeling that you shouldn’t have come tonight. That you should’ve watched from Carter’s apartment. But you hadn’t missed a home game almost all season, and you certainly weren’t going to miss a playoff game. 

Yet, every ounce of you was screaming to run, to get away while you still could. But you knew you were safe, Zachary wouldn’t dare come near you while Ethan was here. He wouldn’t really do anything in the arena, where all of the security knew you by now. You were safe here. 

You tugged on the sleeves of your jersey, pulling them down so they covered your hands. You couldn’t help the little shiver that went through you. So instead, you pulled out your phone and looked at the last text Carter sent you, vowing to win since everyone was here. Your eyes seemed to stay glued to the part where he said he loved you and he loved knowing that you were wearing his jersey. 

Although he laughed about it at first, somehow knowing that the jersey on your back was actually his old one, and not just one you got from the team store, made him feel different. Like you were really shouting to everyone that you were his, and he was yours. He often chirped some of the other guys about their relationships, but that all stopped when he realized how much he loved you. 

Because the truth of it was, Carter could see a whole life with you. An entire future that was so bright and full of love and happiness. He hadn’t told you that yet, mainly because he didn’t want to scare you. But he wanted everything with you. He wanted a ring on your finger, you walking down an aisle all in white, maybe a couple of kids in a house outside the city one day. But for now...for now he was just happy knowing you had on his jersey while you watched him play.

You hold tightly onto Kora’s hand as the clock ticks down. Carter was so close to a shutout. How often could you say that your boyfriend got a shutout during the Stanley Cup playoffs? You were so sure that your heart would beat right out of your chest. Even E seemed to literally be on the edge of his seat. 

Sure they were still a few games off from winning the series, but this would really tip the scales in their favor. For the first time you actually let yourself think about it. About what it would mean for Travis, Nolan, and for Carter. You could almost picture them hoisting the cup. Could almost see yourself on the ice with everyone, laughing as Travis attacked you. You could almost see all of it. You could almost see all of the things you hadn’t allowed yourself to want. 

The arena erupted, fans were yelling so loudly you swore your ears were going to be rining for days. You’d even lost your own voice sometime during the second period. You spent the whole game engaging with everyone in the arena. You hadn’t experienced energy like that in years. You were almost willing to bet that you felt the same level of adrenaline as the team did. Honestly, you’d probably be just as amped up as Carter when you got home. 

“He did it,” Ethan marveled over the roar of the arena, “He fucking did it.”

Kora nearly jumped on your shoulders, “My best friend is dating a goal god!”

You were in a state of shock right up until the time you saw Carter after the game. Then it was like everything kicked into high gear and you ran to him, you even jumped so he had to catch you. A couple other members of the team whistled jokingly as you kissed him. 

“You did so good.” 

Maybe it was the bit of alcohol in your system, or the adrenaline from the game. But you seemed to forget every little problem you had. You forgot about Zachary, and the impossible decision that lurked there. Or the fact that you still had to pick who you were going to spend the summer with, if anyone. You forgot about all of it. All you wanted to do was be with all of them.

“Damn you look good tonight,” Carter joked, tugging on his jersey. 

“We should go out. All of us,” You told Carter excitedly, “Like go get drinks or something.”

“You want to go out?” Carter asked, surprised that you were the one to even bring it up. 

“I feel like dancing and having fun. Finals are over, you just fucking owned the net. C’mon, please?”

“Hartsy take the girl out,” Kevin Hayes chirped.

Carter smiled and kissed you again, “Well, let’s go out then.”

So that's what you did. All of you filed into some club that Travis knew about. You weren’t really dressed for it, although you did have a nice top on under the jersey, but you didn’t care. Not as the music seemed to fill your soul as you held onto Carter. He laughed and danced with you, both of you seeming to forget everything.

Ethan watched as you let go. He and Travis just looked at each other and smiled. Neither of them had seen this side of you since you were in high school, before Zachary broke so much of you. Ethan felt himself relax the more you seemed to smile and come alive. Kora soon pulled Ethan and Travis both onto the dance floor, insisting that all of you be together. 

Hours later, so late in fact that you were pretty sure it was morning, you and Carter were slowly making your way towards his building. Ethan, Kora, and Travis all split off a while ago so they could go back to Travis’ place. You were still so giddy, happily talking off Carter’s ear. 

He felt a sort of warmth in his chest. This was the person Trvais and Nolan talked about. He was finally able to see the you that Travis told him about for years, the you that was free. He wished he could’ve met her sooner. 

“I want to go back with you,” You told him suddenly. 

“Huh?” he wasn’t entirely sure how you’d gone from talking about wanting a breakfast beagle from the diner off campus, that certainly wasn’t open this time of the morning, to wanting to go somewhere else with him. His brain was hazy, both from the alcohol and everything else that happened. 

“To Canada, if the offer still stands?” 

You stopped walking and turned to face him. When you really stopped to think about it earlier in the night you realized that there wasn’t any other place you wanted to be. You’d be safe with him in Canada, you would finally be able to fully love him there. Nothing would stand in your way. It would just be you and Carter. Everything would be okay. 

“God I love you,” He whispered before leaning down to kiss you, “Of course the offer still stands.”

“Good,” You pulled at his neck so he would kiss you again. 

You really didn’t care that you were in the middle of a dark sidewalk in the middle of the night. You couldn’t even pay attention to the cold that was slowly working its way into your bones. Because all you could think about was his lips on yours, and the summer that now awaited you. All you wanted was that. You just wanted him. 

“Now Doll, this isn’t part of the game,” You couldn’t pull away from Carter fast enough to find the source of the voice. But you already knew. You wanted to warn Carter to run, to get away. But there was a loud sound that made your ears ring again, but in a different way from the arena. And then...there was just nothing.

[mings]

Some context...

...in relation to that last post. This is a lo-o-o-o-ong read, so feel free to skip right by if catharsis bores you.

This starts way before I joined tumblr; in fact, long before tumblr was even a thing.

Twenty years ago, we lived in a huge house backing onto the English Channel. We moved there from Scotland, which turned out to be (probably) the biggest mistake of my life. 

Within nine months of buying the place, the company I’d moved to work for nearly folded. I and most of the workforce were made redundant. That set in motion an existential battle with our mortgage insurer, which refused to pay out because I “must have known” when taking out the insurance. (I didn’t, and they eventually caved in after destroying my credit record, but that’s another story.)

Work wasn’t immediately available; none that would at least cover the bills. We got inventive, wrote a business plan, obtained finance & bought a franchise. It went pretty well for the first three years, but we had to bust a gut to make the required income. It wasn’t easy. Eventually, the franchise operator messed up relations with several key players in our insurance market. Within three months, we lost 75% of our revenue. I had to close the workshop & find part time work to make ends meet. Ultimately, we decided to close the business, sell the house and downsize to something more manageable.

What’s the relevance of this? We tried hard to keep our precarious financial state form the kids. Maybe we didn’t do as well as we thought. Our son had already become withdrawn. He’d fallen in with a group of local lads about whom we had grave misgivings. Of course, there was no discussing it. We were “over-reacting” and unreasonable. It was around that time that he decided to jack in his education. I couldn’t criticise; I’d done the same. I pulled some strings and got him a job at our local Royal Mail delivery office.

We moved to our new place. It was a stressful move. Trying to fit into a house that was literally half the size was never going to be an easy task. One afternoon, our son came home from work and soon after announced he was going out. “See you later.” Only we didn’t. He didn’t come home that night. Nor did he turn up for work the next day. Nor the day after. And nor the day after that. Within a week he was written up for unauthorised absence. We had no way of contacting him. His case was heard in the following weeks. I could offer no mitigation. He was sacked for abandonment of duty. That tag that means he’ll never work for them again. 

We still had no idea where he was. We only knew he was alive because we met a couple of his friends who couldn’t believe he’d not been in touch. Still no word. My wife was in shreds; I suspect any of you who are parents can identify with that. I was alternating between trying to prop her up and stay on top of my job, all the while under a constant barrage of barracking (Oh, we don’t mean anything by it, it’s just banter....)

About three months in I’d had enough. Sleep was a scarce resource so I rose at the crack of dawn and started on a trip, rousting one after another of the friends and acquaintances that I knew, following leads until finally I tracked him down to a sordid bedsit several towns and 40 miles away. At least he answered the door and looked sheepish. He offered no explanation or apology, and has never done so to date. He refused to come back home, but promised to keep in touch. 

We know he bounced from one sofa to another in the next few months. He spent time in some of the worst areas in the county for drug abuse. He fell into a relationship with a girl that looked promising initially and subsequently fell apart. Later, he surfaced in another town with another girl whom he subsequently married. She often spoke of his irascible temperament and moods. Ultimately the marriage was doomed; she was younger than him, found a new interest and moved out. One wonders now how much of that was her and how much she’d put up with before voting with her feet.

He’s stumbled from one financial crisis to another. Money just evaporates. It’s as though adulting is a mystery beyond his reach. I’ve lost count of the times that we’ve thrown money at him and I don’t want to even think about how much. It’s literally thousands, always a loan, yet he never, ever pays back.

He left his job. That was inevitable too; he worked for his ex-father-in-law’s company. Heaven only knows how long the writing was on the wall; it was pretty swift once she left. He drifted again. He chose to live in a squalid flat with no heating rather than move back with us. Absolutely his choice, not ours. 

We moved to Scotland. That meant all his stuff had to go into storage. Quick rewind - he moved all his stuff to ours when he gave up the house he & his ex lived in, but refused to move back home. I had to rent a storage unit to make space for all his gear & when we moved I shifted all his gear into the store, gave him the key & told him I’d paid three months up front; after that it was his to deal with. Apparently, he surrendered the store and moved all his gear into the flat...

Fast forward to a couple of months back. He’d run out of options at the flat. His flatmate was “really difficult” to live with. His ex had moved away, taking their son with her. He had nothing left to stay for and, surprise, he’d lost his job again so he couldn’t afford the rent. 

My wife convinced me we should give him one last shot, citing his fragile mental health. I agreed on the strict understanding that we are simply no longer in a position to support him. He assured us he’d be applying for work as soon as he got here. We rarely see him before midday...

We agreed the end of the first week in March. We knew he’d arrive with a ton of stuff so we had (again) to create space. That’s infinitely more difficult now we’re running a B&B, but we set to the task. Suddenly, two weeks sooner than we’d agreed, he rented a van and was on his way. No discussion, no warning. We only found out because he put something on FB. 

Finally, after trying to reach him most of the day, he phoned. Whilst we should have been relieved, instead we were treated to a barrage of abuse because all the petrol stations were shut. Of course they were. It was in a national lockdown and why would they stay open when there was no one on the roads? JFC, who embarks on a journey in sub-zero temperatures across some of the most inhospitable country in the UK without enough fuel? With a six year old child. Yes, not only did he forget to tell us about his change of plans, he forgot to tell us he was bringing his son too.

We drove south through the night for two hours to find him somewhere in the Cairngorms where he’d run out of fuel. No fuel meant no heaters at 1500 feet in deep snow. The ambient temperature was -5ºC/23ºF & with wind chill that was probably around -10ºC/14ºF. We found him & refuelled his van. No thanks, just another barrage of abuse, because he was tired. We took his son into our car & drove the two hours back in near silence. I think we knew then that it was an awful predictor of what was to come.

We’ve had row after row. He accused me of being passive-aggressive in the last. He actually ticks all the boxes for passive-aggressive behaviour. I’ve never been tagged with that before; if anything I’m too forthright, blunt even. That’s a failing to which I will admit. If by that he meant that I don’t talk about the elephant in the room, it’s only because we fear it’ll lead to another explosion.

He never saw the damage that we sustained during our fostering years. He was never there. Yet here we are, experiencing flashbacks to those traumatic incidents; the parallels are exact. We have the benefit of years of training. We recognise manipulative behaviour when we see it - we were trained by some of the nations best exponents - and we know divisive tactics implicitly.  What he doesn’t know is that he will succeed only in pushing us closer together and alienating himself even further.

There are clear and well-documented links between cannabis and mental health issues. He is allowing the drug to determine his life choices. Although I may be wrong, I think he’s cultivating skunk, which is nothing like the weed that circulated in my youth. The smell that pervades our hallway is instantly evocative of high strength Afghan resin. It’s also going to be acutely difficult to eradicate before we’re due to open.

We’ve endured 20 years of this treatment. I know that even if we have a ritual burning, it will only be a matter of time before we’re back here again. We’re old. We’re tired. And we’ve worked our socks off (and still do) to achieve what we have. Maybe somewhere along the way we missed something. But I’m at a stage where I’m so far beyond this I just want it to stop.

[solange-lol]

"why don't we be friends (why don't we make out)" - (1/1)

words: 2,373

read on ao3

—

There are very few people that Nico forgets about. At least, as far as the people that have stuck around with him for most of his life.

He’s known Percy and Annabeth since they were young, remembering watching the two of them chase each other around the schoolyard and purposefully try and get desks right next to each other before they were inevitably separated by alphabetical last name seating. He remembers trying to convince Piper to do his french project and Jason sitting in the halls with him outside of the music room when they wouldn’t want to go outside for recess in middle school. He can still hear the alarm when Leo accidentally knocked over a bunsen burner in their sophomore year chemistry class, and the feeling of paint on his skin when Hazel tripped and sent half of her palette onto him in their art class.

Nico can even recall moments with the people he was never particularly close to, like when Rachel told him she loved him backstage of their winter concert after only having known him for five minutes (in a very lesbian/gay solidarity way, of course), or when Grover spent an entire hour hiding out in their school library to get away from their math sub.

It’s strange now, looking across such a large circle of people piled into Jason and Thalia’s house. They’re all people from his grade (or class , he supposes, now that they’re officially graduated), Each one of them, Nico can remember at least one conversation he’s had with them, one story he’s passed into his closer friend group that is laughed over and then inevitably moved on from.

It was supposed to be a big party celebrating all their friendships throughout the years.

Ironically, so many people that had such little impact on him, in retrospect.

Which is why it comes as a surprise to him when he sees a flash of blonde curls and freckled skin among the sea of people. He’s hit with what feels like a wall of memories of the two of them, laying in the same bed trading quiet secrets, and walks to the store to get an inhumane amount of candy that they can go share at the pier. Images of blue eyes, warm hands in his, and the sound of stifled laughter at midnight feel all too familiar. Nico is stuck on them.

He hasn’t seen Will in years.

It wasn’t exactly his choice. It wasn’t either of theirs, really. They had gone to middle school together, and from the ages of 10 to 14, Will knew the most about him.

And then their middle school graduation came and went, and Will left for a boarding school. Nico remembers, vaguely, Will asking him to come with them.

“They offer more classes, and there are more opportunities for help,” they had said, or something along the lines of it. “And we could be roommates.”

Part of him wanted to. All of him almost went. But it was the same year he lost his sister, and while moving to another state for school sounded like a fantastic way to avoid all his trauma, he had to stay with his family. Not that his father would have stopped him, but Nico knew he couldn’t go. Not yet.

So he stayed, and Will left, and it all worked out fine. They texted every other day, facetimed once or twice a month when their schedules lined up. Will came home for Christmas that year, telling stories about the other kids on their floor and their girlfriend. Then, when he came home for that summer, about their boyfriend.

Nico would listen, then catch Will up about what was going on at his public school. He had gone out on a date with one boy which was nice but didn’t turn into anything, and Will told him he would find someone eventually. They took trips to the mall together instead of the pier, mostly just to get milkshakes and have a place to walk around.

One morning, Will convinced him to bike to the beach in the morning to see the sunrise. The sky ended up being too cloudy, but they still sat together on the empty lifeguard chair, swapped sweatshirts and bagels with cream cheese, and talking about summer jobs and college.

Then Will left for their sophomore year, and school caught up to both of them and whatever kept them going was lost. The most Nico talked to them was through the occasional Snapchat sent to each other or on a group facetime

The last time Nico had called Will alone, it was in a panic to ask advice on how to break up with the boy he was dating at the time because he realized that relationships weren’t really his thing, at least not yet. Will had sat quietly, giving him occasional advice, and mostly just comforted him.

And that was it.

Nico had gotten a new phone later that year, and all their call logs and long text threads were lost into the depths of his phone memory.

It was bittersweet, in all honesty, and pretty painless for the most part. Maybe it’s because Nico never really forgot about Will. There was never any clear ending; no hard feelings between the two of them. He still sees their posts on social media, sees their mom in the store on occasion. He remembers passing Will at their local fair when they came home again for the summer of their junior year with their boyfriend that they were still dating, and then later again the next when he noticed that all posts had been removed from their Instagram including the ones with said boyfriend and nothing but will - they/them in their bio.

He wondered, briefly, where Will had gone when he didn’t even see him in passing over the following summer. Was he still going to the boarding school? Had his family moved out of the state entirely?

It never felt like a friendship breakup. It was clear now, though.

Nico wonders at which point it became one. He didn’t mean to stare at Will as long as he did. Everything had just come washing over him at once, and he was frozen in place staring at the person Nico had once called his best friend.

He doesn’t even realize he was staring until Will looks back. Their blue eyes meet his brown ones, and reality sets back in. The loud music he had drowned out in his daydream came filtering back through his ears, and he stumbles as people shove past him towards the kitchen. Still, his gaze locks on Will.

Neither of them makes a move towards each other at first.

Then, a moment later, Will is right next to him.

“Hey,” they say it slowly, almost like they were testing the waters, like they knew how long it had been since they had spoken.

Nico doesn’t know what to say. His first instinct was to hug them.

He withstands it, though, instead grabbing onto their wrist and pulling them past the crowd of people and into one of the rooms off of the main hall, which was miraculously empty. He can still hear the pounding music, but it was a little bit quieter with the door closed. Quiet enough that he can think again.

“Uh, hi,” Will tries again, and god, their smile never changed.

“Sorry,” Nico says once he realized he had just seemingly dragged them into a secondary location with no explanation. “It was just… loud. Out there.”

“I get it,” Will says, sitting down on the couch pushed onto the far wall and looking back up at Nico. They were wearing a pinkish-orange button-up Hawaiian shirt that looked straight out of their dad’s closet (Nico would know, he’s seen it before) that was half-tucked into mid-rise light wash jeans that were cuffed just enough that you could see a glimpse of where their socks met their Converse. Yellow, possibly the same pair they had bought at the mall two years prior when Nico was there.

They got taller, he thinks vaguely. Nico had too, but Will still has at least half a foot on him.

“So, what’s up?”

“Not much, I guess,” he shrugs, twisting his ring. “I mean, I graduated. I assume you did too.”

Will nods. “I did. Lou Ellen invited me as her plus one. You know her, right? Friends with Rachel.”

Nico nods. Shoulder length, cloud-like hair that was a different color every other week. Wore lots of random thrifted t-shirts over big pants. Loud personality, even louder voice. Band kid. Friends with Cecil; her good grades probably being the only reason he hasn’t been kicked out of the school yet. Once debated the legitimacy of gender binaries with him in an English class.

“Sorry for, like, staring at you before,” he says. “It’s been a while.”

They nod again. “All good. I was staring at you before anyway.”

“You were?”

“Yeah,” Will shrugs. “You’re easy to look at.”

Then, a moment later, “It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah. You’ve changed a bit.”

“Have I?” They ask. “I think just my look, maybe. I’m still just as obnoxious.”

Nico snorts. It’s comforting to know they could just slip back into it like this. Like no time had ever passed, and Nico is back in their bedroom creating each other in The Sims.

“Are you still dating Connor?” Nico asks, vaguely remembering the last conversation they had.

“Nah, we broke up last winter.”

“Any reason?”

Will squints a bit like they’re curious why Nico’s asking. It makes Nico blush, immediately regretting saying anything.

“Dunno. We just grew apart,” they say. Then, “Sounds kinda familiar, doesn’t it?” followed by a laugh.

“I didn’t mean to stop talking to you,” Nico says quickly because he didn’t. There are days where he sees Will’s Instagram story or a tweet and knows that even though he could still comment, it wouldn’t quite be the same.

“Life got busy,” Will says. “It happens”

“I didn’t want it to. Not to us.”

“So let's restart.”

Nico blinks. “Just… start over our entire friendship?”

“No, just pick up where we left off.”

“Just like nothing happened?” he asks, sitting down on the couch next to them.

“Just like nothing happened,” Will affirms.

They’re both quiet for a moment, then—

“Do you remember what you told me when you first came out as bisexual to me?”

It was in the basement of Will’s house. Nico had come out as gay a few weeks prior, and when he was talking about the boy he liked, they just casually mentioned it. Being with Will like this again reminded him of something they had said, and something he later found out.

“I think I just, like… told you, right?” Will smiles. “And I said you were a big part of helping me figure out.”

“Yeah. I always thought you meant because I had already come out,” Nico said. “It wasn’t until, like, last year that Piper mentioned you meant that because you liked me.”

Will laughed again. “I figured you didn’t. You were always talking about what bad of a couple we would make.”

“Yeah,” Nico said, and his heart picked up pace as his knee knocked against Will’s by accident. Neither of them moved. “I actually had a massive crush on you for a while. I think I just said that because I wanted to try and get over it, so I wanted you to indirectly reject me.”

“Did you ever get over it?”

Nico laughs. “Not really. But I moved on.”

He notices Will shift closer, notices how their hands are now on top of each other and their legs are fully pressed together.

“Same,” Will says, moving their head closer to Nico’s until their foreheads are pressed together and their breaths mingle. They look at him for any sign to stop, and Nico doesn’t move.

“Good thing we’re starting over then, right?” they continue, practically a breath of a whisper before their lips connect, and god Nico did not think this was where his night was going but no way in hell was he about to stop it. (He’s not sober enough to care, anyway, and seemingly neither is Will judging by the strong scent smell of weed coming off of his shirt.)

Their hands laced together, subconsciously, almost like muscle memory from all the days walking hand in hand down the dock. (Nico wonders if his younger self was ever trying to tell his mind something.) Nico’s other hand comes up to rest on warm skin, brushing Will’s cheek with his thumb like he’s trying to wipe the freckles off.

Will wraps one arm around Nico’s waist, pulling him closer until he eventually just shifts so he’s in their lap. Will certainly doesn’t complain, only tilting their head to deepen the kiss and breaking apart their hands so they can run one hand through Nico’s hair.

They have to break apart after a moment, and Nico can help it when he laughs.

“Guess we were a little dumb when we were younger, huh?”

Will’s breathing heavy, but Nico doesn’t miss the familiar playful glint in their eye. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re still an idiot,” they say, pressing a kiss to the underside of Nico’s jaw, and another one right next to his ear.

He wonders if Will has thought about doing this the same way Nico has.

“Says you,” Nico says. “You were far more oblivious than I was.”

“I’m not the one who said we would make a bad couple,” they remind Will.

“Yeah?” he says, then leans back in to kiss Will again. Their mouths slot together, and god, they’re an even better kisser than Nico ever thought they could be. Something in his mind tells him maybe it’s not relationships he didn’t like, maybe he just knew it wasn’t the right person.

Perhaps Will’s that person he was always looking for.

Nico leans back, just barely so he can mumble “Lucky for you, I’m willing to test that theory,”  against Will’s lips just before they pull him in once more.

—

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[narniagiftexchange]

                                i’ll find you in the next one.

                              THE AUTUMN NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

                for: @ihaveknownone  from  @luxaofhesperides.

When Peter is six, he asks his parents where his siblings are. They laugh at him and say that he’s an only child and they weren’t going to have another kid. That wasn’t an answer he wanted to hear, but even at six Peter knew better than to keep pushing. So he kept quiet and didn’t mention it again.

And his home remained quiet without the presence of the siblings he knew he had.

So he grows up, always lonely and always quiet, looking out of other kids because he never stopped being an older brother. And no matter how hard he looks, there is no Susan, or Edmund, or Lucy. Just him, and his memories.

There are times when Peter doubt himself, wonders if it’s just a dream or delusions left over from childhood, but he knows the laughter of Susan, and the teasing words of Edmund, and the strong hands of Lucy. He knows them. He knows his siblings better than anyone, even when they don’t exist.

(If he’s alone in this world… Peter forces the thought away and tries to forget his dreams when he wakes.)

He grows bigger, and quieter, looking through crowds for familiar faces he’s only half-sure are real.

And when he gets to college, Peter gives up.

‘I guess I’m alone in this life,’ he thinks as he makes his way through campus, holding that familiar ache in his chest. He scrolls through Twitter as he walks just to avoid people; he hasn’t lost the habit of involving himself in things that help people, and now there’s always a friendly face around ready to talk to him. It wouldn’t be so bad if he was able to fully commit to a friendship, but there’s always a part of him that’s looking away, searching for other people he knows should be by his side.

“Hey, Peter!” someone calls, and he forces down a wince as he looks up. Adam waves at him and jogs over, grinning as he holds up his phone. “Check this out!”

“What is it?” Peter asks, looking down at the screen to a video about… archery?

“There’s this girl who’s coming to this university next year on a scholarship because her marksmanship is insane. You gotta see what she can do.”

But Peter’s already watching, breath caught in his throat as he watches Susan nock an arrow and send it piercing straight through a target too small to see clearly through the camera. She looks exactly as he remembers, back in Narnia, participating in a tournament and holding the title of champion for years until they returned to England.

She’s here. And if Susan’s here then…

“Can you send that video to me?” he asks. His voice sounds as though it’s coming from far away. His heart beats hummingbird fast. He almost doesn’t want to believe it, because if he’s wrong then it will hurt so much more this time.

“Yeah, no problem. Didn’t know you were into archery,” Adam says as he pulls his phone away. Peter almost reaches out to grab his wrist, to bring back the image of Susan, but Adam pockets his phone and carries on as though he didn’t just alter Peter’s life. “You should probably go, doesn’t your class start soon?”

“It does.”

“Alright, I’ll see you at the meeting tomorrow!” Adam leaves, and Peter watches him go.

He isn’t… He doesn’t feel real at the moment. The entire world’s gone soft and faded, like the colors are slowly being washed away. Everything feels quiet and distant and Peter can’t focus on anything other than the fact that he’s not alone.

He skips class for the first time that year. He doesn’t even remember leaving campus.

-

In the age of social media, it’s easy to find Susan. But he wasn’t even sure if that was her name this time around, or if she’d remember anything, if she looked for them too. He doesn’t know anything.

But her Instagram is dedicated to archery and in every tagged photo she’s smiling, which is. Something. It’s a good something.

Looks like she didn’t need an older brother after all.

(Peter thinks about bombs and wardrobes and going years without parents. Thinks about being five and walking a crying four year old Susan home because she fell and scraped her knee. Thinks about his mother in another life, brushing back his hair and telling him in a soft voice that he’s the oldest so he needs to look out for his siblings. Thinks about holding a sword and being terrified that he’s going to outlive all of them. He thinks about a lot of things that don’t matter anymore. They happened in another life, after all.)

He closes the app and collapses onto his bed.

The house is quiet.

- 

Peter tries to focus on other things: school, clubs, deciding whether or not to apply for a part-time job, and most definitely doesn’t think about the siblings he doesn’t have.

His mind, apparently, has other plans. He dreams constantly, of wolves and lions and snow, dreams of a world that no longer exists to him, dreams of a train and a light. After a lifetime (or two?) of ignoring it, suddenly it’s all that he can think about.

Everything’s getting mixed up in his head; Peter hears the church bells ring in the distance and thinks of the small church down the street from the house he lived in while he was in America— except he’s never been to America and the church next to campus is large and old and looks nothing like the one in his memories. He finds himself at the grocery store wondering if he should buy apples to make the apple tart Lucy loved so much, but he’s never been much of a baker and the recipe escapes him.

Even his friends comment on how dazed he is, constantly lost in thought as he walks, forgetting what he’s doing in the middle of doing it, barely able to focus on anything that’s being said. They laugh it off, and Peter laughs with them, but he wonders what he could possibly say if they start asking questions.

It’s hard, now that he knows he’s not alone. But that might be worse; at least when he only had the memory of his siblings, it was easier to live without them. Knowing they’re out there and they don’t know him— that’s what breaks his heart.

-

“Excuse me,” says a familiar voice, and Peter looks up, tears already welling in his eyes. “Is this seat open?”

It takes him a moment to process her words, then he clears his throat and says, “Go ahead.”

Susan smiles at him and takes a seat.

-

They argue over who pays the bill, because they both refuse to split it, and it’s so familiar that Susan almost cries. Peter does cry, and she laughs at him because she understands exactly what he’s feeling. Everything in her feels light; she’s gone so long without anyone, having buried her family in two lives, and here is her older brother who

knows

her, who recognized her before he even saw her, and is so happy he cries.

Susan hadn’t been prepared for this. This small hole-in-the-wall cafe just a couple streets down from the main campus of the university she was touring, the university she’s absolutely going to, between the scholarship and Peter. She walked in, welcoming the warmth after walking around for an hour in the cold wind, and immediately ordered something warm to drink.

The cafe was quiet, only a few people seated here and there, when her eyes caught sight of a familiar face: Peter, typing something on a laptop with an open notebook besides it.

She had spent her whole life wishing she had her siblings back. She wondered, for the longest time, if this was a punishment, to be reborn alone while knowing what it was like to have a loving family. She had been born to an older couple who passed away from illnesses a few years back, and the aunt she lived with now was often out for work.

Susan was far too familiar with loneliness these days.

And then, suddenly, there was Peter and the last time she ever saw him, he was waving goodbye from a train that would take everyone away from her.

(Susan often wondered if they’d ever want to see her again. After everything she did to distance herself from them, all the callous things she said that hurt them when she was pretending to be okay. Wonders if they’d want her back in their lives if they ever met again.)

But he smiled at her, tearing up, and they spent two hours just catching up.

They both skirted around the same topics, careful with their words, but everything that went unsaid was enough for Susan to know that Peter remembered her, them, everything that happened in another life.

He ends up paying, but only because he shoved her away from the cashier and handed them his card before Susan could recover. And he told her that she’d have to pay next time, and wasn’t that something?

There would be a next time.

“Here,” Peter says as they step out of the cafe, holding out his phone to her, “So we don’t lose each other.”

She puts in her number and shoots herself a text to have his number, and hands back his phone. She has to go, she knows, but she doesn’t want to. They’d just found each other again, but now that they had no ties besides memory, their lives were pulling them apart.

“I’m going to be coming here next year. I’m planning on getting an apartment off-campus. I was going to look around for a roommate later, but if you want…”

Peter beams at her and says, “Yeah, of course I’d room with you. It’d be nice to live in the same house again.”

“I guess I’ll see you later.” Susan hesitates, looking down the road where she should go, if she wants to catch the bus that will take her home. She stays.

Peter pulls her into a hug. “You will. I’m free this weekend if you want to hang out.”

Neither of them move for a long time.

It’s only when they really have to that they say goodbye.

-

Peter’s house is quiet. It’s nice, has plenty of space, and is farther way from campus and downtown, so the streets are quiet and mostly empty. It barely looks lived in.

She had hoped he hadn’t been as lonely as she has, this in this life.

“My parents have been traveling a lot,” Peter says when she asks about his family, “Since I can take care of myself. They’ve been sending money every month so I can buy groceries, and they call every night, but we’re not all that close.”

“Oh.”

“It’s alright though! They’re good parents. It’s just that since I can remember another family…”

They don’t say anything else about their parents.

Now that they’re not in public, it’s easier to speak about themselves. How different everything is, compared to their first life, and they talk about Narnia out loud for the first time in this life. It’s a relief to know that it wasn’t her imagination, or lingering daydreams from childhood.

It was all real. All of it.

And it means she’s not alone at all.

 -

“Have you seen anything about Lucy or Edmund?” Peter asks the next weekend and Susan shakes her head.

“I didn’t think any of you would be here, but somehow we still found each other. I haven’t looked at all since I thought I was alone.”

“I’ve looked but I haven’t gotten anywhere. A friend found you, actually, from one of the videos of your shooting. It was a complete accident.”

He knew she was around because of a video one of her friends took while she practiced, and Susan just happened to go to the same cafe Peter was in. What were the odds?

Peter grabs her arm and tugs her along into a small park just outside the main library. It’s hidden off to the side, between the library and the physics building. Susan has found that Peter is a far better tour guide than the one who showed her around campus that fateful day. He’s lead her down shortcuts and into hidden little areas where people seeking quiet and solitude go.

It reminds her of being seven and following around a young Peter down the streets, hand in hand as they looked with wide eyes all the buildings and people they’ve never taken the time to see before.

It took almost two decades, but she’s here now, with Peter.

She’s here now. She’s here.

-

Susan stays an extra hour after practice is over, waxing the string and replacing the nock. It’s familiar, comforting work, something she’s done for years, here and in Narnia. By now it’s muscle memory, and she lets her mind wander, remembering wars and tournaments and competitions, remembers people praising her right up until she scares them away with how intense she can be, remembers splitting an apple a field away.

She looks over her bow with careful fingers and sharp eyes, then stands. One target is still set up, and Susan eyes it, breathes out, then nocks an arrow and draws it back in a quick, fluid motion.

It hits the center.

Behind her, the door to the gym opens with a loud screech, and Susan whips around to face the person coming in, one hand grabbing another arrow.

“Sorry for bothering you!” a student, probably a Year 7, says, wringing her hands. “They asked me to get some mats from here.”

Susan lowers her bow and thinks. “Mats? Who’s asking for them? Shouldn’t most clubs be done by now?”

“Ah, some people from the fencing team are still here. Preparing for a competition or something. I didn’t have anything better to do so I stayed behind to watch and decided to help out.”

“Alright,” Susan says, “Let me put my things away and I’ll help you carry them.”

They don’t talk much at all, besides making sure they can both handle the weight, and Susan follows the girl’s lead outside to the field. Sure enough, people in fencing gear and milling around, going through different strikes and stances. Some of them break off from the group to grab the mats from them, giving their thanks as they set up for an impromptu match.

Susan turns to leave, ready to call it a day, when she catches sight of someone taking off their helmet and stops, heart hammering in her chest as Edmund gives her a small wave and takes his place on the mat.

-

Although fencing is a more delicate way of fighting than he’s used to, Edmund still takes to it easily and becomes the best on his team. He wishes for his sword often, wanting to go back to a more familiar way of fighting, but there’s no need for such skills anymore.

So he settles for the next best thing and fights his way to the top.

The warrior in him never died, after all. It just laid in wait until he was ready to be who he once was.

Sometimes he wonders what it would be like to live without these memories; would he still be the same person? Or would he become a different Edmund, one who never knew any siblings and went through life uncaring of what happened to him? Perhaps he’d be as he was once, years ago, having just left his mother to be safe from bombings and bitter about everything. Or maybe he’d be just like any other boy of this century, laughing and playing video games and wondering what career he’d have in the future.

None of that matters, though, because Edmund does remember. He knows love and heartbreak and grief and joy. He’s lived three lifetimes, all of them impossible, and he carries every memory, every feeling, and holds it close.

And he looks for the people he loves, because he’s never been one to leave others behind.

- 

He wins almost every fencing match, because of course he does. This goes on for years, and though it’s fun and he cherishes the friends he’s made on the team, he wishes he could meet someone who would actually give him a challenge.

Peter would. But he can’t find Peter. Not yet, in any case. There’s very little he can do, being so young (again), and having overprotective mothers. So he plans, looks online, and tries to see what he can do to send out a sign that says “Here! I’m here and I miss you!”

There’s not a day that goes by when he doesn’t miss them. Peter and Susan and Lucy who are probably, hopefully, out there, looking for each other too.

He wants them back.

So Edmund trains and studies and looks around. He tries to see if anyone talks about lions or wardrobes or childhood games in a magical land, but everyone around him is normal. Edmund, who was once both a king and a boy in a world new to him, carries all these memories alone.

He wins another match. It doesn’t feel like much a victory.

(Nightmares of war and battle, of a witch, of gasping for breath, blood on his lips, blood on his hands, feeling everything hurt then fade away. He wishes he knew how to stop fighting.)

He wins match after match.

And then, while practicing alone, he hears someone shout and looks up to see another fencer swinging down their foil with more strength than is allowed in matches. They don’t move like a fencer; they’re aggressive and fluid, slashing and spinning as they force him back.

Edmund feels the wild grin grow on his face as he steps back and becomes the Just King once more, and rises up to meet his opponent.

It feels almost like a dance, alive in a way most of his fights aren’t. There’s energy between them, following a routine no one else knows, twisting their wrists and barely dodging out of the way of another strike. It’s exhilarating. It’s Narnian.

Edmund wins this one, too, but it’s a close thing. This isn’t fencing; contact doesn’t stop the fight. But a thin blade pressed against his opponent’s throat does. His heart is pounding in his chest when he tears off his face guard to wipe off the sweat on his brow.

“And who did I have the pleasure of fighting?” he asks, breathing hard even as he grins.

They stand up slowly, and hesitate for a moment before taking off their face guard. “It seems I still have ways to go before I can best you at swordplay,” Caspian says with a lovely smile, one he’s spent a lifetime dreaming of.

The shock sends him to his knees, but when he reaches for him, Caspian reaches back.

-

“I found Susan,” Edmund says the moment Caspian answers the call.

“What?”

“Susan. You know, my older sister. I found her when I was visiting a friend at another school. She’s still doing archery, by the way. Got a scholarship for it at Peter’s university.”

“Wait, you found Peter too?”

“No, I found Susan. But Susan found Peter and she said she’ll send his contact info over tonight.”

Caspian is silent for a minute, processing what he’s just heard. Then he sighs, and says, “I can’t let you go anywhere alone.”

Edmund laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years, and replies, “That’s why you found me first, isn’t it?”

“Among other reasons.”

He softens and ducks his head. “I’m glad you found me. I never thought that I’d get to see you again.”

“Where you are, I am. You’ve already followed me to the ends of the world. Let me do the same for you now.”

“Caspian, you’re going to make me cry.”

The laugh he gets in response is the same as the one that surrounded him on the Dawn Treader. “What a terrible boyfriend I am. Sure you don’t want to break up with me?”

“Like hell you’re getting rid of me now.”

-

Peter(TM): Sorry I’m gonna be late! People from my club found me :(

why does he have a knife: take your time high king, i know you cant stop yourself from helping them

Peter(TM): I’ll eat all your food

why does he have a knife: i have many swords. try me

Miss Stabby: Why did I think a group chat was a good idea

Miss Stabby: Who changed my name to this, I just wanna talk

why does he have a knife: you KNOW im more creative than that. so i didnt do it

Miss Stabby: Peter. My aim has only gotten better

Peter(TM): ………

Peter(TM): I’ll buy you both crepes if you let me live

why does he have a knife: deal

why does he have a knife: also my bf is gonna be here jsyk

Miss Stabby: YOU DIDNT MENTION A BF

Peter(TM): !!!!

why does he have a knife: yeah caspians excited to see u again

Peter(TM): Caspian’s here too????

Miss Stabby: CASPIAN???

Miss Stabby: WHO ELSE DO WE NEED TO LOOK FOR

why does he have a knife: brb waiters here im ordering first bc u two are taking too long

-

Edmund hooks his foot around Caspian’s ankle and passes his phone over to him. Peter and Susan’s texts always make him smile. Though none of them live together (yet), having some way of contacting them, of being able to annoy them late at night and see that they’re here is incredible.

Now they only need to find Lucy, and then they can all be together again as a family.

It’s all he’s been dreaming of years.

He can’t wait.

-

(And on the other side of the restaurant, Lucy tells her grandparents that she sees some friends and that she’s going to talk to them very quickly. And they wave her away, telling her to have fun, and turn back to their food.

Lucy weaves between the tables and catches Caspian’s eyes as she approaches. He sits up and opens his mouth, but she puts a finger against her lips and shushes him, then creeps up towards Edmund.

He’s typing something on his phone, a small smile on his face, and Lucy’s hands are shaking from excitement. She grabs her bracelet, one with a golden lion charm and a dagger charm on it. Takes a deep breath for good luck.

She pulls up a seat next him and sits down.)

-

Digory taps on the Instagram notification the way his granddaughter Lucy taught him too when she first made him an account. It opens to a picture of Lucy and the rest of her siblings, children who he hasn’t seen in years, children who had grown up without him ever knowing. They’re all pressed against each other, laughing as they struggle to fit onto a small bench.

They look just as they did in the last life, but somehow, brighter. There’s a light in their eyes that he’s never seen before. The weight of a crown and a kingdom no longer rest on their shoulders. In this life, they’re free, and they used that freedom to find each other.

The caption Lucy puts is simple and fun, just like all her other Instagrams.

“living my found family dreams #youwishyouwereme”

He likes the picture and comments a yellow heart.

It’s a good life indeed.

____

i hope you like it!!

[red-cape-morgana]

FIAT LUX

Everyone sees the girl of steel as an almighty, indestructible being. But before being a hero, she is a person, and this implies some quirks. Some fears as well.

Chapter 2

(Chp 1) // (ao3)

Of course Lena knows about Kara's love of phosphorescent things, and especially about those sneakers.

She can actually see the shoes' faint glow in her entry every single evening, when Kara gets back home. And if now it has become a comforting sight, something she looks for when she wakes up and Kara was on patrol the previous night, it has not always been that way.

The first time she had seen that greenish glow... she had thought of kryptonite.

She had been quietly reading perched on her couch, when Kara had finally gotten back home from a grueling long workday. The blonde had an agar look on her face, leaving her bag and kicking her shoes off. Lena had heard her mumbling something about breaking pencils, spilled coffee and needing a shower, before heading to Lena’s luxurious bathroom.

Lena had decided to let her girlfriend unwind for a while before asking about that apparently rough day. Now that she knew about Kara's alter ego, she understood her girlfriend's clumsiness on a whole new level and knew that a simple task could require a lot of focus from her. Consequently, the number of incidents grew up accordingly as the hours of the day passed, and many phones had been the innocent victims to the super's strength.

Lena was getting lost in her historical novel once again, when she had noticed a faint light in her entry.

Odd, she had thought. Lights are turned off. What’s there?

She had closed her book before getting up to check on that. On her way, she had grabbed her phone, just as a precaution. After so many assassination attempts, she had learnt that communication means where really what mattered (as well as an efficient punch in the nose from time to time).

A couple of meters away in the entry, she could distinguish a faint greenish light coming from the messenger bag that Kara had abandoned there.

A bomb.

She started to run toward the bathroom. She needed to warn Kara! The kryptonite would suppress her powers, she had to flee! She speed dialed Alex to ask for an intervention squad while barging in the bathroom.

"Lena?! What's going on? Why are…?" Kara stammered when Lena had opened the shower cabin.

"You have to go!" Lena had said in a hurry while dragging the soaping blonde out of the shower.

"To go? But, why? Lena, what's…"

"There's a bomb Kara!" Lena shouted at her, in a near panic

She needs to go, she thought to herself. If it's kryptonite, she is even more at risk then me. The residual radiations would deepen any potential injury and worsen her state. And considering the rate of cellular degradation from direct exposure, even the DEO may not be fast enough.

"Lena, you, hide while I take it away." Kara stated while fumbling to activate her suit.

"You don't understand. It's kryptonite. You can't risk getting anywhere near it!"

"What?" Kara exclaimed. "But, I thought you had installed a biometric security system after last time?"

"I did!" Lena answered while trying to shove the unmovable kryptonian toward their bedroom, where she could escape through the window.

"But there is that greenish glow in the entry, and I know how to recognize kryptonite Kara. Believe me if…"

Kara had held up a hand to stop her mid sentence.

"You said in the entry?" she had calmly inquired.

"Yes! Why do you care where it is? It's still a bomb Kara." Lena said, her voice filled with exasperation.

And Kara had laughed. She had laughed till tears streamed down her face, mixing with water and shampoo left from her half finished shower. She had laughed even harder when Lena started to scream at her to go while she had time.

The brunette started to fear it may be something else than kryptonite, and that it was messing up Kara's mind because who laughs at the prospect of a toxic bomb in their apartment for God's sake?!

Kara didn't stop before hearing her talking to Alex, asking for help in their apartment. That got her attention, and she took the phone out of Lena's hand before uttering between giggles

"No it's fine Alex. Lena… Lena thought my shoes were some kryptonite trap. Can you, can you believe that?!"

Lena felt as if she could hear the groan Alex surely made to accompany her “I’m tired of my sister” expression.

Well I guess 13 years of that kind of shenanigan does that to someone, Lena mused. She had only known Kara for 3 years, and yet she was sure she had her own special kind frown as well.

Kara ended the call, promising they would explain more clearly tomorrow, before proceeding to explain that what she had thought to be a kryptonian bomb was only the new sneakers she had bought that were phosphorescent.

“They are the best glow in the dark shoes one can buy Lena! I had to get them, you understand?” she said as if her point was obvious, bouncing on her feet like a kid who had just been promised a trip to the candy store after school.

Lena had debated throwing the shoes out the window, just for the scare they had given her, and also because she wanted to erase Kara’s smirk.

Now the blonde keeps referring to that moment to tease Lena, a reminder that the genius she is got fooled by glow in the dark material. But coming from the Luthor family, can you blame her for thinking of an assassination attempt first?

And if that incident wasn't enough, the hour-long rant Alex gave her about Kara's love for glowing things would have clued her on it.

The next day, Lena had dropped by the DEO, willing to apologize for the false alert of the previous day. She knew Kara had said they would all gather at the end of the day for a drink, but Lena felt the need to see Alex first thing in the morning. Those apologies also included freshly brewed coffee from the best roaster in town, and enough pastries to satisfy a small army. The redhead vented to her for an hour straight, using memories from their shared childhood in Midvale to illustrate her explanation. As well as justify her exasperation with her sister’s eccentricities.

Lena took the opportunity to learn what her girlfriend was like when she got on Earth, Kara oddly quiet about this period of her life. She also thought it was the safest move possible in her situation, to let Alex get it out of her system. No one wanna get on the bad side of their possible future sister in law, and even less when they work for a secret agency that has a knack for making people disappear.

What she learns though, makes her see some of her girlfriend's habits under a new light.

Lena knew it must have been incredibly jarring to not only start a new life on a foreign planet, but learning that she had been lost in space for decades, and that Kal-El didn’t need her anymore must have been devastating. It was her mission after all, the reason why her parents had sent her away. Knowing that now, she didn’t have any purpose anymore… And it goes without saying that the enhanced senses she suddenly gained thanks to the yellow sun, would be enough to drive anyone crazy on their own. Heart beats, motors, reading through a book, crushing your mug of hot chocolate accidentally,... And all that during teenage years. Earth must have looked like hell at first. No wonder why Kara is unusually quiet whenever this topic arises. But Lena sensed there may be something else lying there, and since she wouldn't pry at Kara's traumatic memories, Alex was the next best best source for informations.

So far, she only thought Kara was that kind of forgetful/lazy person that never really complete a task. When the blonde would leave the curtains in their bedroom slightly open, or their door ajar, or her phone on the bedside table and always displaying time. Lena simply thought that Kara didn’t mind any of it. And since it wasn't bothering herself much, she let her do.

For Lena it was just Kara's little quirks. Just like her love for phosphorescent things.

Though, now that she thinks of it, she can remember an incident that happened when Kara had first moved in with her.

So far, in their relationship, the blonde had rarely slept over at Lena's place. Either because Lena was actually the one sleeping over, or Supergirl was needed for an emergency mission, or when Lena was travelling the country for scientific and technological conventions and checking up on branches of L-Corp. They had decided to move in together to make things easier for both of them. There was no point in sneaking around like lovesick teenagers, and Kara had already claimed two drawers at Lena's (who was very keen on borrowing oversized sweaters from said drawers when her girlfriend couldn't be around).

The move in itself was as smooth as possible: Kara stacked her boxed belongings in the van, Alex drove it to Lena's place, Kelly had looked for the best itinerary during this busy week day, and Lena had prepared snacks for everyone once they'd arrive. All in all, it had been the matter of a day.

Alex and Kelly had stayed over for dinner at Lena's demand, and Kara had just dug out what she would need for the next day.

"It will all be unboxed tomorrow Lena. What would be the point in putting it all back in the boxes now?" Kara had said, when Lena pointed out she couldn't see the color of her couch anymore with all the stuff the hero had thrown on it.

At some point, Nia and Brainy had joined them, bringing a couple of bottles to celebrate "an event I didn't think I would get to see before having grey hair, considering the pace you were going!" Nia had said.

The evening had continued full of laughers, memories of moments the couple had been completely oblivious to one another, and potstickers of course.

When everyone had left it was finally time to go to bed, the super had become strangely agitated. Lena had brushed it off as all the emotions of the day and finally living with her.

It will all settle once we lay down and get some rest, she had thought.

She had been proven wrong. Kara had spent the night turning and tossing, unable to find sleep. Lena had tried to soothe her by pressing her front to her back, gently holding the blonde in her arms. But when Lena had woken up some hours later, Kara wasn't in bed anymore.

"Darling?" Lena gently called as she padded in the living room, barefoot and eyes still full of sleep.

Kara was on the couch, huddled against an arm rest and looking at her laptop without really seeing it.

Lena closed the distance between them before sitting next to her girlfriend. Sensing that she wasn't in the right headspace to explain what was going on, she simply decided to just lean against Kara, anchoring her in the present. Together.

After some time, the sun had started to rise.

Lena had slipped in a state between sleep and alert, still here but not fully conscious of how long they had stood there together. At some point Kara had closed her laptop, setting it aside on the coffee table, and she had pulled Lena on top of her, holding her close. The weight and warmth of her girlfriend must have calmed her nerves somewhat because Lena felt the stiff muscles finally relax under herself.

Lena was about to suggest they move to the kitchen to have a well deserved breakfast when Kara had softly said "It was so dark, you know. I just… it brought up some memories. I'm sorry."

Lena hadn't prayed any further. Kara had every right to keep some things secret, and she knew she would learn about it eventually, when the hero would be ready to face this.

After that, Kara had always left a small source of light in their bedroom. At the end of the first month living together, she even bought some star stickers that she put on their ceiling as well as on some furniture. Lena had raised an eyebrow at that, but Kara had brushed it off, saying something about how it remembered her of her apartment and that she thought it comforting to share this with Lena.

Showing the Luthor a part of the Super that very few select people had ever witnessed.

But now, after her talk with Alex, Lena knows that it comes from a different place.

From what Alex told her, on earth Kara had never liked total obscurity. Elyza and Jeremiah had tried to help her of course. They offered the teenage girl therapy, sophrology and many alternatives to help her conquer her fear. But nothing had worked.

Every night Kara would wake up drenched in cold sweat, her breath coming up in short pants, convinced she was back in the phantom zone. Those nights, Alex would begrudgingly get up and walk to this new sister she didn't ask for bed, and lay down with her. She would take Kara in her arms, because that was the only thing that would ground her in the present.

Until one night, when Alex slept over to a friend.

[kitkat1003]

Who Are You Really?

Spirit Masterpost (Ao3 link there)

Chapter 2: Find A Way In

Summary: This town's got quite the cast of characters

Spirit spends the next couple of months on reconnaissance.  They hop over rooftops and monitor the town where the supposed successor lives.  They hadn’t had the time to ask for a description after getting their orders from the Demon Bull Family, and they’re afraid to go back to the trio with their query.

Something about that home is broken. Spirit has spent enough time in a broken home to know it’s not a nice place to be in for long.  Best to stay away unless they’re needed.

The town that the successor lives in is pretty lively. They only assume this is where the successor lives, though, because the successor had arrived to fight Demon Bull King rather quickly and would likely need to be close by.

They watch the city from the rooftops.  Bright colors, people, loud noises—they would hate to be down there, lost in the madness, but from a far enough distance it’s tolerable.

The people are so...loud.  There’s so much stuff here.  So many things, sights, sounds.  It’s awful pretty, especially the glowing stuff.  Spirit tries touching it, but it’s really hot. Whatever it is, it burns.

They’re sitting on top of a skyscraper, taking a break with some cheese tea they got because they were curious about it, when the sky shifts.  The weather begins changing without reason.  That gets them to jump down, because it sounds like a storm is brewing and the higher up you are the more likely you are to be hit by lightning.  Getting hit by lightning does not sound appealing.

They duck down into an alleyway, shifting into human form just as Red comes onto the myriad screens all over the city.  

Spirit has to give him credit, it’s certainly a foreboding speech.  They don’t do well when giving speeches.  Often when they’re sent to intimidate or kill they either write up a script on their way there or stay silent.  Whichever is more effective, anyway.

They lean against the wall as mortals panic, pulling out their nifty little phone.  It’s sturdy, which is good, since they can be a bit clumsy with their things.

‘Red’ They type out.  They gave him their number when they got a phone, excited to have one.  He’d texted them a lot of boxes.  They don’t know what the boxes mean, but they hope they’re nice.

‘I heard your speech up on the screens!  It was very articulate and polite, and threatening!  I think your dad will be mighty impressed with you.

Do you need my assistance?  Please let me know.  I’m in the area, so I can come quickly!

From,

Spirit’

They rock back and forth on their feet, turning their head to the side and watching as the mortals all vanish into their buildings, the streets becoming empty in minutes.  Spirit has to admire the speed of it.  Maybe they got more vigilant after the attack by Demon Bull King.  It’s only been a few months since the attack, long enough to set in some sense of safety but short enough that they would still be on edge.  Spirit knows the timeline of overcoming traumatic experiences.  They start to fade out of the forefront after about half a year if you’re lucky.

Their phone buzzes.  It’s from Red!

They blink at the deluge of boxes, using the little arrow buttons on their phone to scroll down.

‘i don’t need anyone!  Thnx for the compliment’

Spirit blinks a few times, and shrugs.  Red never is very eloquent in text form, and they’ve heard that brevity is the soul of wit!  Whatever that means.  Spirit isn’t quite sure.  Plus, they can understand the desire to do everything by yourself, especially when you’re doing something to prove yourself to someone.

Since the town is pretty much deserted, Spirit takes the time to walk around, get to know the place.  They know it plenty from a bird’s eye view, but whenever you scope out a territory it’s best to know all the angles.  They trace the different side streets with their eyes and memorize the street signs.  They might make a diagram, to make sure the layout sticks in their head.

They’re pretty calm, until they feel the ever ethereal power that comes only from one source.

The Monkey King.

Something like primal terror freezes them in place for a split second, before they race away running as far away from the outpouring of heavenly power that comes with the Monkey King’s presence.  They can’t even think about where they’re going, feet pressing hard against the messy street pavement. T, crunching on glass and debris without thought because they just need to get away.  They know who Monkey King is. They know that they would mean nothing to such a monarch, to such a being.  They have no favors to spare, nothing to keep themself safe, so why wouldn’t he jump on the chance to get rid of them?

Considering their reputation, considering the times they’ve colluded with Monkey King’s enemies, there’s no reason to believe he’d let them live, if he saw them.  No reason to think that he wouldn’t leave them a bloody stain on the pavement the moment they appeared in his line of sight.

Or worse, he’ll \tear out an eye for your insolence.  He clearly doesn’t have a problem pulling out organs, from what you’ve heard in the stories, and with what he did to Macaque?  He’ll ruin you.  Well, at least you’d finally have a normal amount of eyes, right? 

Their breaths come in short bursts.  They climb up to the roof of a short building, curled into a little ball, and shut their eyes.

They don’t manage a single normal breath until they feel the energy of the Monkey King fade out.  He must have left, back to his mountain.  Good.  That means they won’t die today, which really is something!  Every day they manage to live is kind of a surprise, really.  They’re consistently shocked by their ability to keep going.

They carefully sit up and glance down at their feet.  Bleeding, apparently.  Not a surprise, given how they weren’t careful when sprinting through the street, but annoying nonetheless.  They pull out the pieces of glass, clean off the wound with some antibiotic ointment they keep on them at all times (Mom used to make it herself with stuff they scavenged in the forest, and now you can buy an even better version in the store for cheap), and wrap their feet in gauze.

Once that’s done, they lay back, spread eagle on the roof, staring up at the cloudy sky as they try to regulate their breaths.  They’re not exactly steady yet, but at least now they can breathe.  Soon, though, the sky clears, and Spirit has to squint to keep the sun from burning their retinas.  Their phone buzzes in their pocket, and they pull it out, holding it up so the shadow of it falls over their face, blocking the sun a little.

‘The garbage noodle boy will pay!’

They type out a reply.

‘Red.

I don’t know who the noodle boy is, but I’m sorry he made you upset.  Did you have to leave the weather tower?  Do you need anything?

Let me know!

Spirit.’

They get a bunch of boxes and a very hard to follow explanation, but eventually they parse it out.  Noodle boy is the nickname Red has for Monkey King’s successor, and apparently he came in and kicked Red out of the weather tower.  

Spirit asks if Red needs help with his next scheme, but Red declines.  That’s fine.

Spirit knows when they aren’t wanted.

As the sky clears, people begin to peer out their windows, and a few brave souls actually leave their homes.  Within an hour, the city is back to its bustling state, if a little slow as it tries to reset from the panic.  Spirit watches this happens with a fascination one would have with watching ants build a colony.  Well, not in the sense that mortals are just like ants, but they are simple in many ways and complicated in others.  Peril is unknown to them in a way Spirit never could understand, and to see them grapple with the appearance of it and work it into their community and lives is ever fascinating.  Mortals are very tight knit, after all.  Everything affects the collective.

Demons are typically solitary creatures.  They create small clans, sure, but they do not settle, create towns for themselves.

Spirit flits between the different factions and never settles themself.  They have a few caves that could become homes, if they stayed, but they never do.  Not when there are favors to hand out, places to explore.  Besides, an empty home isn’t a fun one to return to.

They’re about to head out, disappear into the forest areas outside of the town for the night, but the roof door to the building opens.

“Hey,” comes a gruff voice.

Spirit freezes.  They turn their head around, slowly, eyes wide.

The figure that stands before them is a stout pig demon, wearing what appears to be a chef’s coat.  He’s got stubble, sharp blue eyes, and small tusks that peek out over his upper lip.  He stares at them without animosity.  Mostly interest and confusion.

Spirit, at a glance, suspects that they’d be able to take him, should he attack.  A second glance, more a read of a soul, proves otherwise.  Whoever this is, there’s a power they’re hiding.  A lot of power.

“Don’t see a lot of monkeys around here,” The demon says.

“Sorry,” Spirit replies, immediately.  “I-uh-I didn’t know this was your roof, I was just sitting up here for the view-I-I’m leaving, so—”

They don’t want to get in a fight.  There’s no point in trying to throw on glamour, appearing human.  And they don’t know how to really explain themselves, either.

The demon raises his hands in a peaceful gesture, trying to put Spirit at ease.  It doesn’t exactly work, considering it reveals the demon’s claws.  Dull as they are, Spirit is sure he knows how to use them.  But they do recognize the sentiment.

“Hey, hey, no need to apologise, ‘s long as you’re not causing trouble,” he gives them a sort of half grin.  “Just figured I’d see what you were up ta, if you were alright.  Not often I find anyone hiding on a roof for a good reason.”

Spirit stares.  They don’t exactly know how to react in this situation, so they just.  Don’t.  Their tail curls around one leg and they wish they could just.  Run.  But then he might chase them.  That wouldn’t be good at all.

“Uh.”  He scratches the back of his neck, seemingly uncomfortable with the silence.  “I’m Pigsy.”

How...appropriate?  Spirit fights a giggle, because of course his name is Pigsy, what else could it be?  The smile worms its way onto their face anyway, and their ears twitch as they look anywhere but at Pigsy.

Pigsy smiles back and chuckles a little.

“Yeah, I know it’s kind of on the nose.  Not my first choice of a name, but apparently it’s everyone else’s,” he snorts.

This time, Spirit does giggle, their nose crinkling with the motion as their smile reaches their eyes.  They relax a little.  If Pigsy is at ease enough to joke, it’ll probably be okay.  They’ll probably be okay.

“You, uh, mind telling me your name?” Pigsy asks them, and they freeze again, suddenly shy.

They fidget, then sigh.  It would be rude to not tell him, even though they wanted to keep a low profile, but Pigsy is asking nicely, and he doesn’t seem mean.  What’s the harm?

“Spirit,” they reply.

With a wave, they leap across the space of the street between the two buildings, sliding down the back side of the building.  It’s easy enough to slip into human form and disappear into the crowds towards the outskirts of the city.

They sleep leaning against a tree.  It isn’t terribly comfortable, but Spirit is used to that.

The next month is spent really getting to know the town.  It’s a huge place, and Spirit wants to be aware of every nook and cranny, just in case.  They’re a bit on edge, too, because Monkey King was here, which means he’s unafraid to come back.  If they’re around when he does, that wouldn’t be good.

But if they know all the secret passageways, just maybe, they’ll be able to outrun him.  From what they hear, the Monkey King cares about mortals, so he’d probably try and mitigate collateral.  If they disappear into a crowd, or get underground, they’d likely escape.

They have plans.  They make them whenever they stop on a skyscraper and let the wind blow through their fur, when they look down at the steep drop and think about catching a hand over a thousand years ago, when they think about every step to the present.  They have a plan for every street corner and alleyway, should they be caught.  They have to.  It’s the only way to survive.

Their plans come to a halt when they feel a soul split.  Well, not split, because that’s not possible, but at the very, least spread out.  All kept together by a thin, golden tether that ties them to their source.  

It starts as just one tether.  Then two.  Three, seven, fifteen, thirty-eight, a hundred—Spirit goes dizzy trying to count them all, up on the tallest building in the town.  The weather tower’s roof basically has seats built into its design, if you push a window open and sit on the glass tile, so it’s fun to climb on top of it.

Eventually, they have to see what is happening, because the city is dancing with golden lights scattered across it, and it’s making Spirit dizzy.

A group of tethers coalesces in a single building, an anti gravity arcade.  Spirit hasn’t gone in, because they like when their feet stick to the ground, and the amount of noise and bright lights is enough to leave them dizzy for decades.  They hop to the roof of it, peering over the ledge to see just who is inside.

“Monkey King?”

Spirit whirls around, and comes face to face with a mortal, wearing a bright orange jacket, red pants, a white shirt with a target on the chest (which, not that Spirit would say, is a bit odd, and is asking for a chest injury), and a red headband.

Then, an identical copy of that mortal appears.  Then another.

Suddenly, Spirit is surrounded.

“Uh,” they start.  “No?”

Regardless of their valiant effort to make it known that they are not the Monkey King, they’re dogpiled quickly, grabbed by tens of hands and carried into the sensory hell that is the anti-gravity arcade.

Considering they’re not being hurt, and considering they can’t move their arms, Spirit doesn’t struggle much.  They just shut their eyes, coiling their tail around their leg and staying as limp as possible.  Resistance seems a bit futile, and if they’re malleable instead of stiff they’re less likely to be damaged during their, uh, transport.

“I’m really not the Monkey King,” they try again, though their voice gets muffled by the many, many figures holding them.

The group stops.  There’s a buzz of chatter before one voice cuts out above everything.

“Alright, alright, what’s the haps?  What’s got y’all making me step away from the porty?” The voice has a very casual lilt to it, but it’s recognizable as the same voice of all the other mortals.

“We found the Monkey King!” One of the clones pipes up.

“You what?!”

“We got him, boss!”

“You—okay, okay, lemme see!  Drop him!”

Spirit is dropped onto the ground unceremoniously, and the crowd parts so they can look up to  this supposed leader.

He looks like the rest of the group, but his orange jacket is tied around his waist and his shirt doesn’t have the target on it the rest of them do.  He’s got his pants bunched up at the base of his boots, blue headphones hanging off his neck, and when he glances down at them, Spirit sees a flash of a sharp tooth poking up over his bottom lip.

“Sorry,” they say.  “I’m, uh, not the Monkey King.”

The ringleader groans, leaning his head back.

“Of course you’re not,” he says, though the tone doesn’t indicate that he’s angry at them, which is nice.  He turns to the group standing behind Spirit, and glares.  “C’mon, boys!  I told ya if you saw the Monkey King, you report back to me.  No goin’ after him, no makin’ a fuss.  If this was the real deal, he’d’ve had you poofed quick!  The Boss might not know how to make us go away yet, but the King definitely does.”

He gives a quick, cursory glance over the group.

“We lose anyone?” he asks.

The group shakes their heads.

“Good.  Now, next time, listen to me!” he shouts.  

Spirit flinches at the sound.

The group, thoroughly chastised, all mumble apologies.  The leader sighs.

“Alright, alright.  Half of you keep on look out, and the rest of you go and play.  We got the arcade to ourselves, after all,” he waves them off, and they scatter.

Once they’re gone, he turns to Spirit.  Spirit stiffens and very carefully picks themself up.

“Sorry ‘bout them,” The leader says.  “They’re not the brightest bunch, and any monkey demon is gonna get them excited.  I told them to look out for the Monkey King, not kidnap him, but you spread one brain cell thin enough and things are bound ta’ get lost in translation.

Spirit glances around.  They look to be backstage somewhere.  The hum of pounding bass is muffled, but they can still hear the music.  There are no flashing lights, which is nice.

“Haven’t seen or heard of ya’, though.” The leader speaks up again, drawing back Spirit’s attention.  “What’s your name?”

“Spirit,” Spirit replies.  “And, um, it’s okay.  They weren’t very rough handling me, so it was fine.  

“Um,” They can tell the leader isn’t an original, they can see the tether, but they have to ask.  “You’re, uh, like them, right?”

The leader shrugs.

“If by ‘like them’ you mean a clone?  Sure,” he leans in close toward them.  “But, uh, keep that on the DL, you know?  Don’t want it gettin’ spread around.”

Spirit blinks a few times.  So, clones.  That isn’t surprising.  Macaque can make clones from his shadows, and he told them that Monkey King can make clones out of hair.  The successor must have inherited that power.

The thing that does confuse them, is

“DL?” they ask.

The leader raises a brow.  “The down low?”

“Uh…” Spirit fidgets and glances at their feet. 

The lingo makes no sense.  Is it a new thing?  They’re really bad at keeping up with trends and dialogues.  Their ears burn with embarrassment.  They must look really stupid.

“Just don’t go tellin’ nobody, alright?” The leader clarifies.

Spirit nods.

“Okay!  But, uh, why are you hiding?” It doesn’t seem to make sense.  If the successor made the clones, why do they feel the need to run from him?

“Cuz the Boss made us, made us do a bunch of his dirty work, and I don’t think he’s gonna like that we got tired of it.” The leader glares out toward where Spirit assumes the rest of the arcade is.  “Free will ain’t something clones are supposed to have.  I’m a little more, uh, on the wild side.  The rest of the boys are pretty simple, so I keep ‘em close so they don’t get into trouble.  And hey,” He smiles, all sharp teeth. “Can’t have a porty if you don’t got a roaring crowd.”

Well then.  That certainly changes things.  Spirit has never wondered about the sentience of clones, considering they’ve never interacted with them for long.  Macaque’s shadow clones are more extensions of himself than they are sentient creatures, and they never talk.  But, if clones really do become sentient, it’s a rather cruel thing to strip that sentience away, right?  So long as they aren’t hurting anyone, anyway.

“That’s fair,” they shrug.  “But, um, if you want to really stand out, maybe some new clothes will help?”

“That a fit check?” The leader smirks.

“A what?”

“Nevermind,” The leader waves a hand.  “What you got in mind?”

Spirit tilts their head to the side in thought.

“I think, um...your aesthetic,” they start.  “It doesn’t fit with, uh, the others, so I could get you some new clothes.  Accessories.  As a favor?” They shrug, a bit self conscious.

The leader is pretty confident, and Spirit is decidedly not.  It’s awkward to think that they could be of service.

A blade has a use, but if you have claws that are just as sharp, why buy the tool?

The leader considers this, and then shrugs.

“Sounds good, 3 eyes,” he agrees. 

Spirit blinks.  “It’s Spirit,” they clarify.

“Sure.” The leader shrugs them off.  “Exit’s down the hall to your right.”

Spirit nods and dashes off.  Slipping into human form is easy as a new set of clothes, though they always have to be wary of their tail, wrapping it around their waist like a belt so as not to arise suspicion.

Sure, demons live in this town, but the ratio seems 10:1 and Spirit prefers to blend in.  Besides, if they get mistaken for Monkey King again, they might just scream, if only to startle the crowd so they can get away.

They flit between stores, looking for something fitting for a character like that clone had been.  Spirit isn’t good at fashion, Macaque picked out their outfit after all, but they do have several eyes for flashy things (two, the third isn’t as entranced by such things).  They grab a pair of visor glasses, pink to accent the blue.  They have these weird lines through them, probably to see through.  Spirit thinks they’d be mighty useful to counteract all the bright lights.  

Then they look for something orange to replace the jacket, since it seems to be a fixture on all the other clones.  They find a kind of garish orange tiger print coat.  It’s pretty wild, and, well, the leader said he was pretty wild.  They toss it over their shoulder and head back toward the arcade.

They come in the same back way, because anything to spare themselves the sensory overload of the arcade is worth it, though they feel eyes from all around watching them as they approach the backstage.

Two large bouncers step in front of Spirit, as they approach the backstage, and Spirit nearly trips and falls in their haste to back away.  They’ve never been a fan of looming figures, and even though they’d probably be the same height as the bouncers if they stood up straight, they’re far too used to hunching down to do anything else.

“U-um,” they manage a whisper, clearing their throat before they continue, trying to speak up above the din of the music blaring in the other room.  “I-uh-I-the boss, uh, wanted me to get him some clothes, so…”

They hold up the items they found as proof, giving the two bouncers a shaky smile.

The two share a look, before one walks toward the stage, leaning down for a moment to talk to someone before straightening back up.

“3 eyes!” 

Spirit fights the urge to wince at the nickname, because they don’t like that they only have three eyes, they don’t like the reminder.  Instead, they sigh and smile awkwardly, waving as the leader saunters over.

“Hello,” they show off their pickings.  “I thought these would fit.  Since, uh, neon pink and blue go well together, and, um, I thought this jacket could, uh—”

“It’s way better than the old one!” The leader snatches both items out of Spirit’s hand.

The shades go on his face quick, and he tosses his old jacket so fast it’s a blur as it hits the wall.  He slides the new one onto his shoulders and leans back, hands in his pockets.

“Do I look good?” he asks, then continues without waiting for an answer.  “Nevermind, course I do!  Look at me!”

“I am,” Spirit agrees with a half shrug.

“Nice work, 3 eyes!  The fit fits!” He chuckles, and did his teeth get even sharper in the half an hour or so Spirit has been gone?  They can’t tell.

He plays with the sleeves of the new coat, and glances down at his feet.

“Anyway, uh.” For a moment, he’s almost shy.  “Picked out a name for myself.  Figured keepin’ the old one made no sense and all.”

“Oh?” Spirit keeps their tone carefully neutral, tilting their head to the side.

“Yeah.  Porty.” Porty gives them a wry grin.  “If I say it weird, might as well be my brand, right?”

“Sure?” Brand?  Spirit thought a brand was when you put hot iron on something.  Macaque wanted them to do that to a cow he found, but they couldn’t.  It was too mean.

“Anyway,” Porty’s voice cuts through their confusion.  “I gotta get back to my DJ stand.  Wanna stay for the porty?”

Spirit lets out a nervous laugh.

“Oh, uh, no thank you,” they say, and when Porty frowns, they scramble to explain.  “Not that I don’t, uh, like parties-I—” Well, they’re no good at lying.  “I just have uh, really sensitive eyes and ears.  It would be too loud and bright for me,” Spirit lands on something truthful as they finish, giving Porty a hopeful smile.

Porty’s expression stays carefully neutral, before he bursts into a sharp toothed grin that stretches wide across his face.

“That’s fair, but don’t be a stranger, kay?  Us wild ones gotta stick together!” He nudges their arm.

Spirit thinks Porty is awfully nice and cool, but he talks in ways that make their head spin.

“Got it,” they reply in lieu of asking for clarification, and they disappear out the back door as the music swells again.

They write Porty’s favor into their book just as they start to see the tethers vanish.  One by one, like dying stars flickering out, they disappear.  Spirit watches, wide eyed, as each of over a hundred vanishes.

There's a pit in their stomach, as they think of the giggly, desperate for approval, mostly kind clones suddenly ceasing to exist.  Thinks of the many voices going silent.

Macaque would tell them that clones are a means to an end, a weapon to be discarded after use.  But the successor didn’t discard them after use, he used them and left them, abandoned them.  And now has the audacity to get rid of them when they’re becoming too sentient for his liking?

Spirit doesn’t know the circumstances.  It’s rude to judge a person over things Spirit doesn’t know the full story of.  But they didn’t hate the clones, and Porty, for all his faults, seemed to just want to make a good time for people.  Not the type of good time Spirit would enjoy, but they know others might.

Curled up on the roof of a skyscraper, they watch the lights disappear.  The arcade, a veritable lighthouse of stars, loses its many tethers in an instant.  The mass of light vanishes as if blown away by a gust of wind, until there’s only one left.

The final one, Spirit knows.  

It disappears like the rest.

They break into the arcade that night, and find the coat and glasses on the floor, abandoned.  The arcade is dark and there is broken glass all over the floor, but Spirit steps around it, eyes only for the coat and glasses.  The things they got for him.  To prove that he was more.

Now all that’s left.

They pick the two items up gently and bury them out in the woods.  Maybe Porty wasn’t a real person, maybe he was a means to an end that got out of hand, but Spirit can’t fault anyone who lets them do them a favor.  And besides, sometimes all that’s left of people are memories, and Spirit wants to remember.

They remember Mom, and they know they’re the only one who does.  They can carry that weight for the clones, too, if no one else will.

They get a call from the Long family a month or so after meeting the clone, and isn’t it funny how one of the most affluent, mystically inclined families lives just on the outskirts of the town that Demon Bull King was sealed in?  Spirit wonders if they settled here for that reason, perhaps guarding the staff that the Monkey King left behind, since Monkey King had left it there without any thought.

Spirit doesn’t hate anyone (their father doesn’t count, because they made sure he wasn’t anyone ever, just a memory in Spirit’s mind, forgotten by time as his body burned on its pyre) but they severely dislike the lack of responsibility Monkey King takes.  Not only did he seal away Demon Bull King (Spirit is aware that Demon Bull King was destroying villages and causing a stir, but Monkey King took Red away and what parent wouldn’t be angry?), but he didn’t even stick around to watch over his seal!  He just left it, like the staff alone would be the end-all.  

Spirit would be too anxious to ever leave something that could even possibly be broken.  Maybe they’re paranoid, but they would have at least stuck around, or left a guard, or something!

Honestly, it isn’t surprising that Red managed to break it, eventually.  

They arrive at the Long residence to a sight of a broken down door and demolished artifacts scattered across the entrance hallway.  They blink, three eyes darting around to try and drink everything in.

“Ah, Spirit,” Comes a prim voice.  

Spirit jumps, and turns to find a couple, dressed in green and gold, staring at them.  They’re dolled up, makeup and everything.  Spirit bows, polite.

“Hello,” They greet.  “You’re in need of a favor?”

“Yes,” the woman answers.  “Yesterday, there was an attack on our home by the Demon Bull Family.  Many priceless artifacts were destroyed in the process.  We would like you to salvage as much as you can from the wreck, and clean up the rest.”

So grunt work.  That’s fine.  Typically Spirit is called for that sort of thing, if there are secrets involved.  And when you have priceless artifacts, you don’t want just any random person handling them.  Spirit doesn’t think they’re terribly trustworthy, but if someone asks them to be, they can be.  Keeping their mouth shut is easy because people don’t usually come to them for conversation.

Macaque told them once that they were awfully chatty, but that was when they were younger.  They grew up.  They usually only talk to themselves now.

“Okie doke.” They nod, turning back to the wreckage.

This should take them a few days, if they pull a few all nighters.  They’re pretty bad at sleeping anyway, so at least this time it’ll be on purpose.

They pointedly don’t think about how they told the Demon Bull Family of the artifact that was here.  They pointedly don’t think about how the Demon Bull Family likely attacked this home for said artifact.  What people do with the information they give out is none of their business.  It’s not their fault.

Well.  It is.  Spirit isn’t stupid.  Actions have consequences.  A domino falls and starts a chain reaction.  Regardless of intent, the first domino is the issue.

And Spirit pushed the rest of the pieces down, so the aftermath is their fault.

They start with the biggest pieces of the wreckage, moving out broken stone and whatnot, so that salvaging the finer pieces will be easier.  They’d ask where they’re supposed to move the large pieces of stone, but the two mortals didn’t seem to like them, so they just bring it to the side of the house.  Out of sight for the moment.

They start collecting pieces of broken artifacts, sorting them into different piles for reconstruction later.  They cut their fingers a few times and decide to wrap up their hands in gauze to spare the rest of their fingers from mutilation.

While they’re doing that, someone comes up behind them.

“Hi!”

Spirit jumps a full foot in the air and stumbles to regain their footing, nearly slipping on the dusty tile before steadying.  The gauze not yet secured sticks haphazardly to their sleeves, and they fidget with it as they turn around fully to see who it is that interrupted them.

It looks to be a girl around their age—a little younger, they think.  She’s got the same fine makeup as the two adults who Spirit wagers are her parents, though hers is made less refined in application, instead more youthful and in the form of self expression.  Her green varsity jacket fits in line with her parent’s outfit, green and gold, but the rest of her outfit is a bright white only seen in the marble of the home’s interior.

And then there’s the dragon blade, strapped to her back.  She seems comfortable with it there, which leads them to believe she’s the new wielder.  Which certainly gives her presence weight.  

Spirit lowers themselves to appear non threatening and demure, and they wave, awkwardly, before continuing to affix the gauze to their hands.

“Hello,” they reply. 

“I’m Long Xiaojiao.” The girl bows politely in response.  “But you can call me Mei.”

“Mei,” Spirit repeats, getting used to the word on their tongue, getting over the confusion of someone actually coming up to talk to them when they’re on a job.  “I’m, uh, Spirit.”

“Nice to meet you!” She smiles sunnily up at them.

Spirit stands and fidgets, a little, trying to figure out how to respond.  They don’t know how to interact with people much.  Interacting with Red is easy, they’ve known him for centuries, but with new people, it’s hard.  They’re terribly awkward, and they’re a monkey demon with three eyes.  It isn’t as if they can have conversations with mortals without that becoming a factor.

In fact.

“You know, I haven’t seen a monkey demon before.  Do you know the Monkey King?” she asks.

Spirit winces.  “No,” They respond, quietly.  “He-uh-from what I hear, he’s kind of a recluse, and I don’t interact with many monkey demons,” Spirit shrugs, trying for a smile.

Mei doesn’t seem perturbed by their lack of knowledge, shrugging nonchalantly right back, and Spirit relaxes a fraction.  Like with Pigsy, Mei doesn’t seem to have many expectations on Spirit’s behavior, or requirements of knowledge and or ability.  So far, anyway.

Then again, that could be because they know not to expect anything from Spirit.  Spirit is well known in the demon world to be as worthless as they are useful, and Mei is from a powerful family that Spirit has done favors for before.  The two of them probably knew of Spirit already.  That’s why they’re good at knowing that Spirit knows pretty little.

“Yeah, that’s fair.  My friend MK’s met him, since he’s his successor, but from what I hear from MK, Monkey King doesn’t talk to a lot of people.” She drops the information down in front of Spirit as if it isn’t a bombshell.

Spirit blinks a few times, trying to process the information.  Huh.  So, this girl knows the successor.  Interesting.

“MK?” they ask, curious.

Information is important.  If they perform a favor for Mei, that might get them an in with the successor, which means they’ll have something against the Monkey King and then they can be safe.

“Yup!” Mei whips out her phone, dragon phone case and everything, and shoves the screen up at Spirit, bright light pressing up towards their eyes.

Hand reaching toward their face, reaching digging scraping pain—

Spirit’s back hits the wall.  They don’t remember backing up, just like they don’t remember their breaths picking up, nor do they remember starting to shake.  Eyes wide, they glance around, until they lock eyes with Mei, whose phone is still held up in the air near where their face used to be.

“Oh,” Spirit murmurs, ears rising up from their previously downturned position.  “Sorry.”

Mei drops her arm, brow furrowed in concern.

“I, uh,” Spirit scrambles to explain, because they don’t want her to tell her parents that they’re easily startled, that they’re not good enough, because that could ruin their reputation, that could stop the favor from being kept, it could ruin everything.  “I don’t like.  Things thrown at my face.  Without warning.”

“Oh,” Mei says, softly, gently, glancing at Spirit with something softer and kinder than pity.

“Sorry,” Spirit mutters again, standing up straight.  

They shuffle off, getting back to work at getting the many cracked artifacts off of the ground.  They don’t usually have visceral reactions like that around other people.  The last they can remember is when they were with Red.  He’d waved a hand too close and they’d jumped back.  He didn’t apologize, because Red hates admitting fault, but he did hover over them for a moment, as they regained their bearings.

Mei scuffs her boot on the tile, and then idles over.

“Nah, I get it,” she waves off the apology, though Spirit does question how she could possibly understand when they never told her why.  “Hey, do you have a phone?  I could send you the picture!”

Spirit turns to her, glancing down at the earnest smile on Mei’s face.

“I don’t know if my phone takes photos,” they reply, pulling out the brick of technology out of their pocket.

Mei’s face drops in shock at the sight of it, hands jumping up as if to snatch it from Spirit’s grip. They hand it to her instead, because Spirit can tell she wants to hold it, and Mei looks at it like one would the priceless artifacts shattered around the hall.

“This is...ancient,” she says, delicate, like she doesn’t want to insult them.  “It doesn’t even show emojis!”

“What’s an emoji?” Spirit asks.

Mei drops her face into her hands and groans, before perking back up.

“Can I upgrade it?” she nearly begs, eyes sparkling with excitement.  

Befuddled, Spirit doesn’t immediately agree.  Should they?  They already made Mei upset because they freaked out, it would be rude to deny her something that brings her joy, even if it could come at the expense of Spirit’s phone.

Even more confusing is that, rather than think them stupid for having an inferior product, Mei just wants to fix it up for them.

“Um,” they start, haltingly.  “I like that my phone’s pretty indestructible, and I’ve had it for a while.  Aren’t, um, newer phones more fragile?”

“Not when I make them,” comes Mei’s cheeky reply.  “I’ll even use the materials from this one as a base!  It’ll be the same, just better!  And I’ll be able to send you photos!”

She puts on what Spirit can tell are puppy dog eyes, and Spirit caves instantly.  Mei needn’t use those on them; Spirit knows they’re a pushover.

“Okay,” they acquiesce.

Mei cheers.

“Perfect!  I think I have a charm that will look nice on your phone, too, so I can give you that!” She rocks back and forth on her feet, looking up at the ceiling in thought.

Spirit smiles to themself, setting a collection of pieces on one of the pedestals spared of the destruction.  Tonight, they’ll have to get special glue somewhere to make the cracks nearly unnoticeable.  There’s a demon marketplace a few miles outside of town, so there will probably be some there.

They walk over to the other side of the hall, glancing over at Mei, who follows them.  She fiddles with her phone, and a cursory glance of her screen shows that she’s researching the model of Spirit’s phone for reference.  Huh.  Spirit didn’t know phones could do that.

Their eyes travel from Mei’s phone to the legendary blade on her back.

“You can wield the Jade Dragon Blade?” they ask, aiming for nonchalant and landing on incredulous.  They’re not a good actor.

Instead of puffing out her chest and acting proud, something Spirit would find more characteristic of Mei based on the twenty minutes they’ve spent around her, Mei hunches down a little, looking shy.

“Yeah, I just found out.  It’s, uh, pretty cool.” She shuffles her feet, seemingly reluctant to acknowledge her newfound importance.  “I was never really, uh, what was expected of by my family, so it’s kind of a surprise that I can use it.”

There’s a lot to unpack there, Spirit knows.  High expectations for children of powerful families are to be, well, expected, but it doesn’t mean it’s pleasant.  Spirit doesn’t have to see the tired slump of Mei’s shoulders, with the weight of something wearier than just exhaustion, to know that.  They’ve known it since they saw the fervor and desperation Red worked, the way he swallowed hurt at dismissal.  

It’s a bit sad, they think, that they see it in Mei, too.

“I, uh, I know how to use a bunch of weapons,” They offer off handedly as they continue to work.  “I could teach you some things.  If you want?”

Macaque taught them to use a wide variety of weapons, before they settled on their combat sickles, so they know how to use general blades.  They aren’t a sword master, but they’re sure they could teach Mei the basics.

Mei perks up again.

“Really?  That’d be super helpful.  I think my parents kind of expect me to already know how to use a sword, since I can wield this one, and if I told them I don’t know they’d get me some stuffy tutor or something,” she rolls her eyes at the idea.  

“Once I’m done with this,” Spirit gestures the mess of the entrance hall.  “We could meet up somewhere to start?  Call it a favor.”

Spirit tries not to seem too excited, but opening up a new line of favors with someone is always a fun experience.  A new layer of safety, a new token, even.  If they’re lucky,  Either way, to have Mei’s name in their book would be awful nice.

Mei opens her mouth to accept, but the hard slap of heeled slippers against the marble floors makes them both freeze.

“Xiaojiao,” comes the cold voice of Mei’s mother.  “Spirit is here on a job.  Don’t talk to them.”

“But—”

“Either find someplace else to be or stay in your room.  Now,” Mei’s mother is unrelenting, eyes sharp.

Mei gives Spirit a commiserating smile, and then bounds down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

Once she’s gone, Mei’s mother turns on Spirit, a snarl on her face.  Spirit knows the Long family is one of dragons, but maybe they might have forgotten just how protective dragons are of what is theirs.

“Never,” The voice is a hiss, and Spirit hunches down, curling in on themselves.  “Never talk to my daughter.  You keep away from her.”

Spirit trembles, and nods.  They didn’t want any trouble, really!  They just wanted to help.  And Mei owing them a favor means they could interact with her without being as scared as they are, in general.

But, then again, they suppose having a reputation like theirs does work against you.

They work until nightfall, managing to get most of the hard work done.  There’s still the matter of reconstructing artifacts, which means they need special glue.  So they depart late at night to the demon market a few miles out of town.

It’s more a flea market, not exactly as concrete as some of the other shopping centers Spirit has perused.  It’s actually kind of new, popping up because now that the Demon Bull Family is up and running, demons are crawling in droves to get a piece of the new economic boom.

They find a stand a half an hour into their walk that has the type of glue they need.

“Oh, well there’s a familiar face,” The shopkeep says when Spirit steps up to the stall.

Spirit tilts their head to the side, but doesn’t comment.  “I would like that glue, please,” They practiced saying it a few-fifty-times in their head before stepping up, so they would get it right. They point to the jar they want with a small smile on their face, to be pleasant.

“Alright,” The shopkeep, a fox demon by the ears and swishing tail, takes the jar and wraps it gently.

Spirit reaches into their pocket and pulls out their coin purse, but when they do, the shopkeep laughs.

“No, no, your money is no good here,” The shopkeep says.  “Let me return a favor, to you.”

Spirit blinks a few times, but it isn’t a surprise.  People try and return favors all the time, as if they could ask for anything of Spirit and then return the favor on their terms.  Spirit may do anything for a favor, but they don’t let anyone decide when that favor is returned for a reason.

White splattered red, a smile made dull with crimson spilling over lips.  Returning the favor, returning the favor and dying and never coming back and it’s all your fault why didn’t you stop her—

They sigh, stand up straight, and put on the intimidating smile like Macaque taught them to.  Wide eyes but with a glow that is more a promise than an effect, and a grin with just enough teeth to show that it’s sharp.  It feels weird on their face, but it always works.

“No,” They respond, voice ever quiet.  “I’m the one who deals in favors.  I make the terms.  And I want to pay.”

The marketplace has gone silent.  The shopkeep is frozen in place.  Spirit smiles.

“A-Alright,” the shopkeep finally says, rattling off the total.  

Spirit blinks once, letting the glow in their eyes vanish.  Their shoulders fall as they fumble with their coin purse until they pull out the total.  The shopkeep hands them the bag, and Spirit waves cheerily, turning around and heading toward the exit of the market.

The demons in the market give them a wide berth, but Spirit prefers that.  They like their space.

The whole project for the Long family takes a total of three days, two of which are without sleep.  Spirit is used to not sleeping, whether it be from the usual nightmares or a lack of forethought to go to bed, and so they manage.  Being without sleep leaves them jittery and off kilter, but Mei has seemingly taken her mother’s warning to heart, and Spirit is undisturbed as they work.

They like reconstructing the artifacts.  The heads of the Long family tell them that the family can handle the actual reconstruction of the house, which is a relief considering Spirit knows very little about architecture.  Putting artifacts back together is just like putting together a puzzle, and Spirit loves a good puzzle.  Gets their brain working.

Macaque had puzzles, but his were always more...violent.  Spirit prefers these ones, with the artifacts and without danger.

When they’re done, they’re regarded with distaste but not disappointment, which is nice.  Spirit is pretty sure most people they do deals with don’t particularly like them, because no one likes owing people something.  That’s not Spirit’s problem though!  They always allow people to refuse, but people like convenience, and Spirit is malleable, quiet, unobtrusive, and generally willing to be used as any sort of tool.  They’re more an object than a person, on the job, and that’s good!  It means Spirit is good at whatever they need to be.

They almost forget that they’ve given Mei their phone, because they’re leaving the property when she shouts their name.

They jump a full foot in the air, turning around.

“Hey!” Mei comes sprinting across the courtyard, skidding to a stop in front of them.  “You almost forgot your phone!”

She holds it out, and it looks very little like what Spirit expects.  Gone is the black brick of an item, replaced with a wide, reinforced screen.  The case is sturdy, black with purple accents.  Spirit feels the familiar material in the black sections.  

There’s a little purple lotus charm dangling from one corner.

Spirit holds the phone gingerly, almost afraid they might break it.  They tap on the screen, and it glows!  Spirit taps it a few times, but nothing else happens.

“I have no idea how to use this,” they say, looking over at Mei with wide eyes.

Mei laughs, kind and not at all cruel, which is confusing in and of itself.  Spirit half expected her to think them stupid for not knowing.  But Mei directs Spirit to a stone bench by a pond in the gardens, and carefully explains how the touch screen works, and how to get into the different apps, like contacts and messages.

“I put my number in there,” Mei says, pointing out her contact.  “So that way we can text each other!”

“Oh,” Spirit stares, and then smiles, small and shy and pleased.  “That sounds nice.”

How often is it that someone wants to talk to Spirit?   How often is it that Spirit is told how to contact someone for fun?  For something besides work?  They can only recall Red bothering which is somewhat depressing, but it does nothing to stop the swell of elation that makes their hands shake with the desire to move, at the thought of a new friend.

But to flap their hands like that is childish behavior, so they grip their new phone tight instead.

That doesn’t stop their tail from wagging beneath the bench, though.

Once Mei is done teaching them the basics of modern phone technology, she stands, giving them a sheepish grin.

“I should get going.  If mom finds me here with you, she’ll get real cranky, again,” She smiles.  “Text you later?”

Spirit stands, and their shoulders don’t ache so much.  Subconsciously, they feel the wherewithal to stand tall, for the moment, when Mei gives them such a blinding grin.

“Yeah!

They send their first emoji to Red, a little purple heart and the message ‘Red!  I just learned what emojis are!  I hope you like this one!  From, Spirit.’

Red responds with a bunch of flame emojis, and a single red heart back, stuffed between the fires.  It makes Spirit giggle.  Has Red been sending little fires in every text?  It’s certainly on brand, though they feel it might be a little redundant.  Maybe it’s his theme?

They get a text from Mei.

‘Hey!  I got a race a couple of months from now.  Wanna come watch?  Call it a favor ;D!’

Spirit rocks back and forth on their feet excitedly.

‘Mei,

Sounds fun!  See you then :)

From,

Spirit.’

They add a little purple heart emoji to the end of the text, and receive a barrage of green ones in reply.

Spirit smiles.

[cutiepisenpai]

Part 3 of 3   Part 1   Part 2

Kenma X F!Reader 

Warnings: Fluff, Implied Sex

A year after you got married a lot had changed, you showed up more in his streams sometimes gaming alongside him. You also launched a joint channel for lifestyle types vlogs that wouldn’t affect your other content. You had woken up alone which was strange, what was even stranger was that it was late in the evening and you don’t remember falling asleep. Grabbing a throw blanket and pulling it over your shoulders you go looking for Kenma. You find him in the middle of a stream but you don’t worry about interrupting anymore. You simply walk in and climb into his lap while he continues playing.

“What’s up kitten?” He asks and you don’t answer verbally just nuzzling your face into his neck. He turns giving you a kiss on the forehead before his attention is back on the game. Eventually you fall back asleep in his lap to the sound of his mouse and keyboard clicking. The next morning you wake up back in the bed  with Kenma by your side. You figure he brought you in when the stream ended last night. You don’t have the energy to get up but you spent the entire day yesterday in bed. You get lost in thought debating on getting out of the bed for so long that Kenma wakes up seeing you laying there lost in thought. 

“What are you doing?” He asks. 

“Hmm, sorry lost in thought?’

“Are you okay? You’ve been sleeping a lot lately.” 

“I’m fine really.” 

He doesn’t say anything else but you know he isn’t convinced. 

“Do you want breakfast?” He asks, you know that he notices the smallest things.

“I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

“You should still try to eat something.”

“Pie.”

“We can’t have pie for breakfast.” he says.

“Why not?”

“Because for years you said I can’t have pie for breakfast.”

“If I say I changed my mind can we get pie for breakfast.”

And that is how you end up heading to the nearest grocery store and coming back home with apple pie. You preheat the oven and stick the pie in waiting. You sit on the counter top with Kenma standing between your legs playing a game on his phone. You lean over hooking your chin over his shoulder watching him play. You let out a loud yawn. 

“Still tired?” Kenma asks.

“Kind of, I don’t know really. I’m not tired but I just want to sleep.”

“Have you been sleeping?” He asks closing out his game and opening his internet browser. 

“No, what are you doing?”

“Looking up your symptoms.” 

“So the internet can say I’m dying. No thanks. I’m fine it’s probably just because I finished the project I had been working on.”

“If you say so.”

The pie comes out and cools, you spend the afternoon laying back on Kenma he doesn’t mind it he actually enjoys it but it doesn’t ease his concern. 

“I have to go start my stream kitten.” He says while tapping your hip signaling for you to get up. 

“Okay I guess I will leave you my lovely cuddly buddy. I need to shower anyway.”

“Are you going to come watch the stream after?”

“Yes.”

When you get to the shower you realize you are out of body wash but you have an extra in the cabinet. You open the cabinet looking around for the bottle when the brand new unopened box of tampons catches your eye. You start doing mental math and something isn’t adding up. You go grab your phone opening your period tracking app. The app shows that you are thirty five days late, you sit down staring at the dates and it was of course right. You panic not quite sure what to do, having a baby wasn’t something you had planned for yet. You had talked about it but had decided to wait for now. You change quickly, peaking your head in and getting Kenma’s attention. 

“Hey I need to run to the store, I’ll be right back.”

Kenma immediately senses your unease and is up out of his chair coming towards you leaving his stream unattended. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing really, Kenma your stream.” He doesn’t even turn to check on his game his focus on you. 

“Why are you rushing off to the store all of a sudden?”

“It might be nothing but I just need to check. But I’m fine really so just go back to the stream okay.”

“I’m going with you.” He says walking over and abruptly ending his stream with no goodbye or explanation. 

“Kenma.”

“It’ll be fine, I'll explain it to them later.” He says putting on his shoes. 

“Now why are we going to the store?” 

“I might be pregnant.” You say in a low voice. Those simple words stop Kenma in the middle of putting on his shoe, turning to look at you as you put on your shoes.

“Really?” He asks, he doesn’t sound upset, just surprised and you just nod your head. 

The trip to the store and back is quiet, not the normal comforting quiet. This quiet was unbearable and suffocating. 

“This is awkward.” You say looking at Kenma standing in the doorway. 

“What is?”

“I can’t pee with you watching.” 

“I can turn around but I’m not leaving.” He is so adamant that it actually makes you laugh and you are able to pee. It is a long five minutes waiting for the results. You sit on the bed with Kenma, he has you wrapped closely in his arms, “Are you worried?” He asks.

“Are you?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“You seem surprised. It is the obvious next step.” 

“Well I know that. We’ve talked about kids but only hypothetically. It is not like we planned this.”

He takes your hand in his bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of your head. “Plan or no plan, we’ll be fine.”

You hear the timer go off and Kenma goes to check it. “What does it say?” You ask.

“We are going to need to come up with a plan?” He says turning it to show you the positive sign. 

Who knew a small positive sign could change so much. Everything and nothing changed, Kenma had taken to watching you like a hawk. He took time away from gaming outside of his streams even though you told him it was unnecessary. Your friends were all expectedly excited claiming they were going to be the best uncles. You had yet to address it with your fan bases not sure if you want them to have that much information just yet. Your followers did notice that Kenma had shown up more in your recent videos. The first time you get morning sickness Kenma sits on the floor in the bathroom with you rubbing circles across your back. He eventually learns to bring you ginger ale and saltines. He likes to keep close to him whether it is sitting in his lap while he streams or just on the couch in the room with him. His viewers notice the change, how much more often you show up in his videos even if it is just in the background. You eventually make an announcement when you inform your followers that you would not be attending any conventions or expos in the upcoming year. Kenma attends all of your doctors appointments with you listening intensely to everything the doctor is saying. The weeks pass and start to show he can’t keep his hands off of you in every sense of the word. You would between his legs and play video games laying your head back on his chest. You wouldn’t call him much of a cuddler beforehand, he didn’t mind cuddling but he rarely initiated it. And now he was close to you every chance he would get.

 “I love you I really do but let go.” You say to Kenma as you try to climb out of the bed. “

“Just stay in the bed.”

“I have editing to do.”

“You don’t have to edit. You work too much.”

“Oh really and my videos will somehow edit themselves.”

“Hire an editor.”

You scrunch your nose at the thought, “No, I want them done a specific way, my way. And you have a meeting to get to.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Well you have a business you are in charge of so tough noogies.”

With each passing month you and Kenma adjust to the ever coming changes. Soon enough your due date comes but the baby does not. You have grown impatient, sore and tired from your precious bundle that just refused to make an appearance.

“This is your fault you know.” You say glaring at Kenma. 

Kenma had grown use to your small jabs in the final weeks, he knew you didn't mean anything by it and right now he wanted nothing more than for your baby to be born. 

“What do you mean by that?” He asks .

“They take after you, stubborn little bugger.” You say rubbing your belly.

“The doctor gave us a few things to try to induce labor.” 

This comment earns him another glare. Nearly a week and a half later while you are watching Kenma stream, he had been doing them more often because he had planned to break for a few weeks after the baby was born. You sit shifting constantly unable to find a comfortable spot. You get up feeling the urge to pee yet again and when you stand up you feel a slow seeping liquid.

“Uh, Puddin’?” You say to Kenma. 

“Yes.”

“I think my water just broke.”

You had never seen him in such a panic. 

“What?!” he exclaims, ripping off his headphones and tossing them onto the desk. Before rushing out of the room. You watched on confused by what just happened, you walked over to his desk putting the headphones on your head. 

“Sorry about that everyone but we have to go. Have a good night?” You say before needing the stream and going to look for Kenma. You find him by the front door checking the bags that have been packed there for weeks. 

“Okay okay you need shoes.” He says, pulling out your shoes.

By the time you arrive at the hospital Kenma has calmed all the way down returning to his usual reserved self. You may have thought the wait was over but it wasn’t several hours of intense labor later at 2:38 am your baby is born. A little boy that looks just like Kenma. You watch as the nurse hands him the baby, he hesitates slightly before taking him into his arms, You can’t help but smile watching the scene before you. In the early hours of the morning warm light fills the room and Kenma watches you and the baby sleep just in awe.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Geeking Out

Masterlist

You work onset of the witcher as the resident handy girl there to repair the props onset rather then them being sent off to be fixed, when working on Geralt’s sword Henry comes across you and with one slip of the tongue your inner geeks collide.

Warnings: Fluff, Swearing

A/N: Had this on my mind for a while just a cute little fluff piece hope you enjoy XX

Taglist: @havenoffandoms​ @iloveyouyen​ @angelofthor​ @thatgirly81​

Incredible text dividers are from @writeyourmindaway​ I suggest you go check out her others they are soo usefull xx.

You hummed quietly managing to secure yourself a table in one of the busy tents just off set, you moved quickly furiously mixing the epoxy trying to combine the two parts with the lolly stick. Your task? you were trying to fix Geralt’s sword there had been a small mishap during a scene renfri's brooch had been hit in one of the takes and had come off. Your job was to put it back on and make sure its stays on , so this time you were forgoing the original glue and using a tiny amount of epoxy it was stronger and once it cured that little brooch wasn't coming off for love nor money. Your job was maintenance on the props ,you were kept onset with a small arsenal of tools to fix anything that gets damaged quick and skilled repair jobs anything from the horse tack to props jewellery the only things you didn't touch was wardrobe because...Fuck no. Textiles was not your thing.

You moved fast wanting to have it mixed thoroughly. This particular resin cured fast...very fast well for resin anyway, so it was always a rush to combine it. You moved a syringe and pulled the plunger up then dotted the resin on the hilt of the sword swiftly applying the brooch then looked around for the clamp. Shit. It was to far you couldn't reach it. You tried stretching down into your bag for it but it was no use suddenly someone was behind you.

"Need help?" You nodded to the slim clamp in the bag

"Yeah could you pass me the clamp forgot to get it out just got this bloody thing central and can't risk it slipping" you focused on your work holding the brooch steady as the person hummed leaning down then handed it to you.

"Cheers lovey" you thanked them and leaned down with one final check that everything was positioned correctly nodding you placed a rag across it protecting it and clamped it securely.

"Sorry about that... Misjudged the angle and hit it to hard I'm afraid" you froze looking up seeing Henry in full wardrobe bar his contacts smiling sheepishly. Even tho you'd been onset this whole time you'd never actually spoke to any of the cast there was no need. You quickly swallowed your shock and laughed.

"Don’t matter to me, keeps me in a job so go nuts!" you both laughed he looked over the things you had out across the table, you followed his gaze. Noting how he then moved to stare at you intently, you felt a flush creep across your chest but cleared your throat nodding to the prop.

"I've used epoxy on it ...It should be a lot stronger." He hummed not really paying attention.

"Anyway its not your fault they used a mid strength glue last time.. I don't think they had a clue how much of a beating it was gonna take" he hummed then peeked over the cup that had a small amount of resin in it still.

"So I can go to town on it?" You nodded wiping your hands down and smirked at him.

"Knock yourself out muscles! I doubt even you will be able to snap that off again....And that's not a challenge either" he rubbed the back of his head smirking at you as you moved dumping the cup with the left overs in a bag then in a small bucket with sand in it that was used as an ashtray for the crew on set. He looked at you questioning. You nodded to it.

"Get's hot when curing so I will leave it there to be safe then take it out when its set..." he hummed in agreement  then moved with you helping to pack up your things.

"So how long will it take to be finished then?" You froze wide eyed

"Why do they need it now?" You panicked they had said it wasn't needed today so you could work on it... did they change their mind? he quickly held his hands up

"No no we are done with it for today...I just wondered was all.." you stopped and flushed at him, you felt a little embarrassed as you had begun to cuss him out in your head thinking he was being rude trying to rush you.

"About an hour...Well I hope an hour it really depends, if there is any leakage  then I will have to sand it with my dremel...and to do a proper job of that I'd need to go through a few different grits and but if theres no leakage  or any nastiness then we should be done in about half an hour....This epoxy cures in ten to twelve  minutes but to be sure I'd want to leave it around twenty to twenty five ish but either way by the end of the day you sir will have your sword back." He looked between you and his prop wilth a huge smile.

"Sounds like a plan! .....Still feel bad tho I'm sure you have tonnes to do already...nevermind me adding to it." You waved him of with a wide grin

"Your kidding! Been waiting to get my hands on this baby since day one! Needed to see the details for my -" you stopped yourself before you said to much not wanting to 'geek out' in front of him he tilted his head sharply.

"Your what? You making a replica or something?" You flushed at him bobbing your head side to side a little.

"Well yes and no...not a full scale one I'm gonna make a mini..." his face lit up and you could see him become excited.

"You make mini's? Like wow and stuff?" He asked buzzing in the way all geeks do when they find a fellow nerd to speak geek with. You giggled an nodded.

"Yes I can't paint them to save my life but I draw and make them on the pc for people to download and use on their 3d printers....I'm more into scenery dioramas...I make tabletop boards" he grinned at you practically vibrating on the spot.

"Seriously? That’s soo cool...Do you have any pictures of them?" You smiled and nodded just as you got your phone out you both heard it Henry's name was called by Joey he sighed and gave a small chuckle.

"Looks like I'm needed...I will be back later to see them and collect my sword...If not hold on to it for me?" You gave him a funny look as he stayed for a moment giving you his best puppy eyes. You laughed and nodded to him, he grinned and quickly left. You stood dumbfounded as he stole a few glances over his shoulder at you before disappearing around the corner. Well that was weird, normally the props were picked up by...well anyone to be stored the cast never did hence why you'd never seen them. You shrugged it off and continued placing your stuff away zipping up your bag.

That was the first time you met the man, later that day he did indeed return and spent nearly two hours geeking out looking at your collection of dioramas, he specifically liked the ones base on Lord of the rings and the few marvel and dc ones you'd done. All of which were centered around villains. It wasn't long before it became a habit that between takes he would seek you out, sometimes bringing Joey along. Soon you found yourselves together all the time, they seemed fascinated by your work and hobby always asking questions, to the point you'd snapped at them when they wouldn't shut up when you tried fixing a particularly fiddly jewellery piece . Even then they stayed sitting either side of you staring as you maneuvered the tiny gems and links back into place.

By the time the production came to a end you had all become close friends each of you exchanging numbers and always texting in a group chat. You couldn't help harboring a little crush on Henry, and you had tried but he was just so...him and maybe he liked you back? You wasn't sure but he seemed to be touchy...Not in a bad way god no! But he was a hugger and holder. When ever he was around you he always seemed to be touching you in some way holding your hand or arm as he dragged you about set,slinging an arm around your shoulders or waist at lunch or when you was working stuff like that. Maybe you were just reading into things to much but it felt like there might be something there. Or at least you hoped there might be, he was sweet funny and dorky but still mature and masculine he was basically your dream man, and then some!

You sulked today was your final day on set you were looking forward to returning home and just relaxing but at the same time you'd miss the guys. You'd all clicked with one another and were so used to them popping up whenever. You tilted your head as you ran your pen across the sketch in you book. It was a close up of Jaskier’s lute details you'd been working on. You were trying to take your mind off things you were scared of them forgetting about you, it wasn't often you managed to click with people let alone men, you supposed you were anxious usually you were fine alone but you found yourself craving company since hanging around them. You glanced up when you heard them before you saw them as they approached you . Sitting up you quickly shook off your sadness as they both made their way across to you.

"Hey bitches" they chuckled at you taking seats at the table the three of you had claimed for the past months.

"God I can't believe its over...I cant wait to see it!" Joey said enthusiastically make you and Henry nod.

"Me neither its gonna be incredible! Its gonna be big you know that don't you? After the great flop of game of thrones their fanbase are gonna be lost and looking for something similar" Joey blinked he hadn't thought of that.

"Really? Didn't think of it like that." You smiled at him and wriggled your eyebrows "And you sir are never escaping that fucking song either so be prepared" he furrowed his brows

"How’d you know about that?" You smirked

"It was one of the few scenes I was allowed to watch them film...and it was stuck in my head for a fucking week the worst bit? I couldn't go and download it from youtube either it was hell!" He chuckled at your frown and leaned over you his eyes caught the page you were working on it was the first time he'd caught a glimpse at your artwork.

"Oh shit! That’s cool" you looked down alarmed then went to cover your image but he had already pulled it from under your nose.

"Henry look!" You flushed a not wanting them to see your sketches. He smiled and flicked a few pages. He looked up through his lashes at you.

"These are really good y/n super detailed... They for your mini's?" You nodded at him sheepishly as you noticed he had found your Geralt cheat sheet. He smirked seeing the page full of his Geralt pulling various faces then skipped a few pages to Joey's Jaskier.  He past it back to him.

"Here there's yours" Joey gasped at them

"Holy shit...Did you do all the cast? Are you gonna 3d print em?" You nodded to him

"I did the main cast once I get home I’m gonna start putting them into the computer but yes eventually they will be printed for people to use...After I sort them out  I’m gonna be making a witcher diorama to display them." Henry smiled at you

"Can you teach me to make one?" You blinked at him not sure you’d heard him right

"What?" He nodded to your book.

"Id like a set for my collection and small a diorama for them...I have always wanted to try it but it seems expensive to get the stuff if I’m crap at it...And it would be fun to make one with you...If you wanted to that is?" You flushed at him gaping.

"Err Ive never done a collaboration before but sure we could give it a go...Could do a witcher one for you to display these mini's...I wont be painting them tho not good at it, sketching is fine but I can't do detail paint....scenery is more forgiving... " he nodded enthusiastically at you like a kid on Christmas.

"Really! Fuck Absolutely! I always wanted to try scenery that would be brilliant." He flushed a little as Joey snorted at him and received a sharp look. It had become common knowledge that he had a thing for you. Everyone seemed to have caught on to it and had all told him to go for it but he was shy...He was nervous what if he had read you wrong? And you didn't like him back? He would be quite embarrassed  and torn up if he asked you out and you shot him down...so no he would settle for being friends.You smiled at him missing their exchange between them.

"Err sure just let me know when your free...I’m not that far from You in London right? Just give me a heads up when you wanna come round" Henry looked ecstatic, it was true he had found out a few weeks ago you was literally Fifteen minutes away from his place in London. He realized you had caught him staring blushing he moved directing his attention back to your drawings again. Joey noticed the awkward moment and swiftly poked your side.

"I want some too! A perfect mini me! Just what everyone needs" You scoffed

"A mini you sounds like a threat! god help us all!" You all laughed spending the remaining time reminiscing on the last few weeks until finally it was time for you to leave. You pouted hugging both of them.

"Gonna miss you two have fun on the promotion tour and stay in touch okay guys" they smiled hugging you back Henry squeezed you tight pulling you up off of the floor making you whine at him.

"I will definitely call and will probably be round September October time" you nodded and finally wriggled away from him leaving the hotel heading home.

Once home you quickly got to work uploading and designing your mini's on the pc you had been speaking to the boys a bit but as time went on you heard less and less from Henry until finally six weeks later all conversation had stopped. Which really didn't surprise you, he was busy...Well that's what you told yourself, it was a shitty excuse you were saying to keep yourself from getting upset. you had found yourself enjoying his company to much. You liked him like liked him, it was fun talking to him,  he was interested in the same things as you and was funny and you had brilliant banter you wasn't constantly worried about how you acted around him because he just got you, you thought you’d both got on well and could remain friends. Somewhere in the back of your mind you stupidly had hoped something would come of it ....But that was a silly childish fantasy. Still you asked Joey a few times and he said that Henry was dealing with some stuff and would come around eventually but it did nothing to cheer you up. You resigned yourself to the fact that he was bored and needed someone to talk to on set that was it. You and Joey still spoke at least once a week even if it was just a quick 'hi how are you?'. You could kick yourself as even when you realized Henry wasn't going to meet up with you, you still began his diorama... Some silly little hope that he might still show but it was unlikely so the diorama was now yours ,you'd planned to make one using your new Netfilx witcher mini's the base was done and you were building up the Styrofoam. The design was going to be a small woodland area with a tiny waterfall running into a stream next to the witchers camp in which the four main characters would sit...Well five including roach. You sighed looking at the blocks of Styrofoam they had been glued down and are now ready to be carved. It had been ready for two weeks but... You suppose it was a little hope that if you didn't start it he would come around like he said. But when Christmas came and went you finally realized he wasn't coming.

Just as you moved to the wall socket and turned on your hot wire cutter you heard the doorbell go frowning you got up dragging your feet as you walked through the kitchen to the hall, as you got closer you could see a huge frame through the frosted glance. It looked a lot like..

"Henry? What are you?" He smiled sheepishly down at you. He chuckled nervously.

"Ah hi y/n...Long time no see?" You crossed you arms at him making him gulp.

"What can I do for you?" You tried keeping your voice even tho inside you were a a quivering mess of irritation anxiety and my god you felt weak in The knees and all the man was doing was standing there!how you even formed words you don't know. Henry the man you'd been pining over was here. He was on your doorstep. And you hadn't let him in what the fuck? why hadn't you invited him in yet?. Pride was the answer, you didn't want to seem desperate. he just straight up ignored you...for months!. You were intent on being angry with him, wanting to give him a piece of your mind. just as you rose your gaze to his you froze.Shit. you gulped eyes softening as you took in his appearance, he looked so anxious and guilty? even then he took your breath away, as gorgeous as you remembered him. he stood a little less confident to what you remembered shoulders slouched his eyes darting around almost as if he was fearful of your reaction, you took a deep breath gripping your front door in a white knuckle grip.He looked to you neighbors door step seeing the nosey old women Mrs Hamlin standing there staring outright, then turned to you going a little red twisting his coat pockets in his hands sighing, sucking it up and started talking.

"Hey I know we haven't been talking its just I ah...well I got a little caught up with the promo tour and that then had to negotiate season two and on the way to the final stop I lost my phone-well I destroyed it really dropped a fucking dumbbell on the thing in the gym..Then Christmas was hectic...Anyway that’s not the point...The point is by the time I got a new phone and found Joeys number and had him send me yours it...I felt like I had left it to long to reply... I wasn't sure if you'd be angry thinking I was ignoring you..." you blinked up at him stunned. That’s why he suddenly stopped he broke his phone and lost you number? You took a step back feeling incredibly stupid. You’d honestly began thinking the worst of him. You felt so bad.

"So...instead of phoning or texting you thought you'd just...come round?" He winced at you tone

"I wanted to talk in person...I wanted you to know I was genuinely sorry...I am sorry I let my anxiety get the better of me...I-I should go" you panicked as he began to turn around and quickly grabbed his arm

"Thank you Henry...You don't owe me anything but you coming here to speak to me means a lot ...I just assumed you were busy...I'll admit I did get a little upset when time went on and you still didn't reply...But now I understand why, we waited for each other to start a conversation again, like a couple  of school kids...Would you like to come in for a coffee?" He grinned wide and nodded glancing to the side eyeing your neighbor who had continued staring at him. You followed his gaze she was really giving him the evil eye.

"What er what is wrong with your neighbor? I mean I knocked on the wrong house but she is kind of freaking me out." You glanced at her and smiled waving

"Morning Mrs Hamlin" she hissed out a pleasant 'go fuck yourself' at you and entered slamming her door. You laughed at Henry's shocked face.

"She's just not a people person...Any way come in your letting all my heat out" you moved to the side letting him enter the small hall closing the door behind him.

"Hang your coat up and I will get some tea on" he did as you asked and followed you to the kitchen then spied your hobby room.

"Is that where you do all your bits?" You smiled nodding as you made the tea

"Yep! Here come in I was just about to start on the witcher one you can help carve, here I'll show you" he followed like a lost puppy paying attention as you began to guide him through the steps letting him carve out the shapes you wanted smiling ear to ear the whole time as you showed him your plan for the scene.

It took a week but finally the diorama was finished, Henry bless him had found some of the steps tricky resulting in a few cuts and burns from the hot wire cutter but he had enjoyed every second of it.Today was the last day working on the project everything was done and you both looked at it.

"Wow its a lot of steps but...It look so realistic...I loved doing the water ripples using the airgun tho it was genius!" You smiled looking at it then jumped up.

"Not finished yet tho here, I printed them last night." You moved over to a small tub with your Netflix Witcher cast mini's and roach in it, they were in isopropyl  alcohol to clean them up after printing. You'd spent some time re-scaling them to fit the scene you'd just finished. His eye went wide as he saw them.

"Wow...these are from your drawings...How'd you get so much detail...May I?" You nodded to him as he carefully moved them from the tub and inspected them. He was fascinated.

"Thank you so much! Their great...perfect even...I've had so much fun this week" you patted his arm

"Me to big guy, its been nice having someone around to talk to, your really good with a bit more work you’ll be making your own in no time" he moved placing the mini's on the finished diorama then stood back.

"That’s a bit of a stretch don't you think...I'm dreading painting it tho.." you laughed holding your hands up.

"Hey don't look at me I print em you paint em that Mr Cavill was the deal" he rolled his eyes biting his lip. The last week had been above and beyond what he had hoped for. He couldn't help wanting more from you tho, he in a way felt a little selfish he wanted you to himself. He stood tall in front of you contemplating his next move.Should he?. Could he? He knew he wanted to try and pursue you but he still had doubts. You blinked and gulped seeing a heated glint in his eyes that was clouded with anxiety.

"Hen-henry?" He hummed in response his heart just about jumping out of his chest as he moved in slowly noticing you leaning towards him to...Did you want him to kiss you? You looked like you wanted to kiss him... Should he let you kiss him first? Or was he reading this all wrong. Fuck. He couldn't take it his nerves and thoughts buzzing he panicked momentarily and just went for it. Dipping his head quickly he connected his lips to yours tilting his head he moved closer shuffling his feet forward. It took you a few seconds to realize what he was doing but when the shock finally disappeared you moaned into him moving to cup the back of his neck. He grunted pulling back for air taking one large gulp then wrapped himself around you pinning you to between himself and the table, clutching you to his front cradling you against him as you accepted him into your mouth groaning as he was quick to explore, dragging your tongue to dance around his moaning and teasing you letting his hands fall to cup your bottom grabbing the full cheeks rolling them around lightly then pulled back from your mouth. He looked down through half lidded eyes and smiled seeing your dazed expression.

"Well...That was, a long time coming and definitely worth the wait...Hopefully i wont have to wait as long for the next one?" you glowed red at that and wriggled a little freezing noticing he still had a firm grip on your ass. You nodded shyly at him.

"Y-you waited to do that?" He nodded moving his hands up from your ass to your sides smoothing his thumbs across your ribs lightly not willing to let you go for a second.

"Yes..For a long time the others were pestering me but I was shy...Wasn't sure if you'd like me or not...Didn't want to ruin our friendship..." you stuttered looking up into his sparkling eyes seeing him flustered and shy made you feel a little better

"Of course I do!...Had a crush on you for...well a long time but just like you I didn't want to rock the boat" he looked at you shocked then laughed loudly.

"Well now that we both know where we stand would you like to order in we could get your favorite?"

"You know what my favorite food is?" he tilting his head down to yours with a knowing grin taking a deep breath he started listing off a few of you favorite's.

"Of course I do, Chinese is your top sweet and sour chicken chow mein and hors d'oeuvres namely seaweed and prawn toast and Japanese is a close second wagamama's if I remember correctly , your favorite chocolate is Lindor and favorite drink of all time is apple juice" you gaped at him, he had remembered all that.

"Wow I'm impressed you listened to my nervous rambling let alone took anything from it" "I love listening to you, you get so passionate about everything you love its cute..Hard not to pay attention...what do you mean nervous?" you felt all giddy when you realized he had been paying attention as you rambled on about what you thought was random uninteresting things.

"Well I'm always a little nervous around you...I do have a crush on you." he chuckled pulling you closer pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

"That makes two of us, any way Chinese? My treat?" you jumped up nodding at him definitely up for some take out.

"Absolutely! but I warn you I can eat...Like I EAT." he chuckled moving down to give you one more kiss then pulled away from you to grab his phone to order online.

"And we can watch Netflix" you faltered and smiled up at him impishly causing him to raise a brow.

"I-I err don't have Netflix..." he gaped at you blinking as if you had a second head

"What? how could you not- you worked for them..Have you even watched the witcher yet babe?" you flushed at the pet name...And the embarrassing truth of why you'd avoided watching the show.

"W-Well you see that err...No I haven't...Kind of avoided it to be honest.." he frowned at you, you were so excited about seeing it yet you had...Avoided it?

"Why?" you squirmed under his gaze, the blues peering down you could feel them seeing through you.

"W-Well I...It was hard I really really liked you and then you just stopped talking to me...I was upset and each time I saw you it made me worse...Like I’d been punched in the chest there was no way I was gonna get through episode one with out getting really upset so I didn't watch it..." he swore dropping his phone to the table and wrapped his arms around you tight

"Shit...I'm so so sorry love...I promise not to do that to you again! come here... I've got Netflix I will give you my log in and you can watch it ....Not when I'm around tho not too keen on watching myself much" you grinned at him as he rocked slowly with you

"Okay then deal..Is watching yourself on tv like re-watching old family videos then i take it?" he laughed pulling away nodding

"Yes almost...Maybe not as cringe tho...Now come on go get the tv on I will be in there in a second just need to order this then we can get settled and pick a film" you smiled leaving him with a quick peck then ran down the hall to the sitting room barely containing yourself as it sunk in that he liked you back and this might just be the relationship of a lifetime.

[autisticlenaluthor]

road trip ficlet

Kara hopped out of her car, stretching her arms out behind her head as soon as her feet hit the pavement. Of all the days she could’ve picked to pack up and throw her life into the metaphorical wind, this had to be the worst. Tuesdays were just never good for life changing events, especially when they ended up like this. 

Sun beaded down, forming droplets of sweat that lined Kara’s forehead, and caused her hair to frizz up from the humidity. Normally, she didn’t mind the heat, but Kara was starting to think the weather, and the lost road map, and the fact that her car radio had broken down about ten miles back were all signs that maybe she should’ve stayed home. Maybe she should’ve tried to ride it out at work, to fix things with her boyfriend, and every other fuck up she’d spent months trying to handle. Maybe she just wasn’t the adventure type. Some people were built for boring, day by day lives with partners they don’t love and jobs they secretly hate. 

Perhaps that was the world Kara was made for.

With a sigh, Kara ran her hands through her sweaty hair and pulled it back into a low bun at the base of her neck. Once she could finally feel the air hitting her skin again, she allowed herself to lean back against the side of her Jeep and do a quick scan of the gas station. 

It was pretty empty. There was a pick up truck and a man in his mid forties standing by one of the gas pumps, a mini mart with a lit up sign at the other end of the lot. Half the letters had gone dark and Kara was unable to make out any shoppers through the windows. Instead, all she could see was the cashier.

Finally, her eyes landed on a young brunette woman. She sat on the pavement, leaning back against the store with one of her legs outstretched onto the road, the other crossed over at the knee. A cigarette sat perched between her index and middle finger, emitting a long line of smoke that clouded up around her face. Sunglasses had been pushed back into her hair like a headband and a navy blue jean jacket was tied around her waist. She didn’t seem to mind  the smoke nor the heat. Kara couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d been sitting there, for her to become so unfazed to all of that.

With one last pop of her back, Kara began the walk across the near empty lot, grimacing at the smell of exhaust and gasoline creeping up through her nostrils. She did her best to shake it off, turning her head in the other direction in hopes that it would somehow vanish, but  the effort was quickly deemed useless. Instead, she just looked towards the woman and, in turn, made her observance even more obvious.

But it wasn’t until Kara had already made her way into the mini mart and was hit with a wall of crisp air conditioned air that she allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief. No bad smells, no humidity. Just a cashier and aisles upon aisles of snacks. 

Just what she needed. 

Kara was so caught up in the satisfaction of one thing finally going her way that she didn’t even notice the footsteps behind her, or the cashier grumbling an oddly cheerful hello to whoever had come in after her. It took her all the way until she was standing between the chips and candy aisle that Kara heard somebody clear their throat and tap her shoulder. 

“Hey.” 

Instantly, she whipped her head around, brow furrowing when Kara saw the same woman from outside standing a few feet away from her. She had her hands planted on her hips, chin raised, with the slightest smile on her lips. The cigarette was gone and so were the clouds of smoke, revealing the rest of her face to the world.

She had green eyes, Kara noted. They were narrowed ever so slightly, but Kara could still make out the color, the way the fluorescent lights seemed to bounce off the little pools of honey surrounding her pupils. 

“Hey…” Kara said, slowly setting her bag of chips back down on the shelf. Was she in some sort of trouble? Because it felt like she was about to face the adult version of getting called to the principal's office. 

“I could see you staring at me,” the woman stated. “Outside, I mean.”

“Oh… yeah, sorry about that,” Kara said with a nervous chuckle. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m just-- I quit my job yesterday and I’m kinda in the middle of the biggest mistake of my entire life, and you were just sitting there and I got caught up in my head and I, well, when I get stuck, I stare. It’s a nervous habit, I have this problem where either I don’t make eye contact at all or I just get super aggressive with it and act all robotic. So I stared at you-- but you know that part. But it wasn’t because I wanted to be weird. Or robotic. I just think I’m in the middle of like a quarter-life crisis or something, and you know, when I get nervous--”

“You stare?” The woman finished, raising an eyebrow. 

Kara nodded. She clamped her mouth shut to make sure she wouldn’t get another word out because holy fuck what was she saying. 

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I stare.” 

The brunette smiled, dimples appearing at the edges of her lips. It was a very nice smile, Kara couldn’t help but think to herself. It felt warm like her eyes. 

“So…” the woman began, rocking back and forth on her heels. “I know that you quit your job and now you’re on some sort of self fulfilling journey to go find a new life. You’re kind of in the middle of a breakdown, but you aren’t really sure yet, because you haven’t gotten to the ‘drink yourself into oblivion’ or ‘shave all your hair off stage.’ And now you’re in a gas station because I’m guessing in the midst of your panic, you forgot to pack and now you’re realizing just how big of a mistake everything you’ve done in the past twenty-four hours was. Oh, and how could I forget? You stare when you’re nervous and that’s why we’re here now.” 

Kara just stared again, completely dumbfounded. They’d been talking for all of thirty seconds and this woman was psycho analyzing her as if they’d known each other for years, and for some reason, was getting everything all of it right. The whole thing was so stunning, all she could do was nod and mumble a quiet “yeah, that all sounds right.” 

“Now that we’ve got your life story out of the way, mind telling me your name?” 

“Kara?” 

“Nice to meet you, Kara, I’m Lena.” 

Kara smiled. “Lena, that’s pretty.” 

“Thank you.” 

“So, now that you know every crushingly embarrassing detail about what I’m doing here, what about you? Are you some kind of serial killer who stalks people outside gas stations, comes inside and befriends them Ted Bundy style, only to brutally murder them and stuff the bodies in the trunk of their car once they’re done?” 

Lena paused and raised an eyebrow, unsure of how to respond to that. The change in expression was so painful to watch that Kara was starting to consider crawling into one of the ice cream freezers and hiding under frozen Snickers bars and Drum Sticks for the rest of eternity. 

“Oh-- you weren’t joking,” Lena said after a moment. She chuckled nervously and pursed her lips, slipping her hands into her front pockets.“No, I’m not a murderer. If I were though, I probably wouldn’t tell you.” 

“Yeah… probably,” Kara said quietly. She could feel her cheeks filling with heat, tomato red was nowhere near strong enough to put a label on the mortification she felt. Give it another minute and she was sure steam was gonna start shooting up out of her ears too. 

“But no, I wanted to get away from reality for a bit so I tried to backpack through the country. But all my stuff got stolen about two shady motels ago and the next bus isn’t gonna come by for another day, so I’m waiting it out here,” Lena explained. “I’m not really sure where I’m gonna go, though. It’s kinda hard to figure stuff out when you’ve got no phone.” 

Kara nodded. For a second, she looked back across the store, trying to see her old, beat up car through the front window. 

She did have extra room-- a lot of it considering she hadn’t packed anything at all. And having someone to talk to might’ve been a nice change of pace seeing as now that the radio was blown out she didn’t have any other way of filling the silence. 

No, Kara! You can’t take a stranger on a road trip with you– she could literally be a serial killer! You just had this conversation, what the fuck is wrong with you?

But clearly, Kara’s mouth worked faster than her brain because the next thing she knew, she was asking Lena if she wanted to come with her. 

“You could ride   with me for a bit,” she’d offered. “I mean, I don’t really have any plans so I’m just kinda driving aimlessly, but if you’re okay with that, you could tag along.” 

Lena hesitated. She pulled at the tips of her fingers as she tilted her head to the side, unable to tell if Kara was bluffing or not. 

“Are you serious? I mean, I could be dangerous. Very, very dangerous,” Lena taunted. Her voice was low and husky, the slightest rasp attaching itself to her words. It had to be the cigarettes shredding up her lungs. Kara knew it was a bad thing, it had to be a bad thing, but god, it was so sexy. 

“Yeah… I mean, as long as you don’t get car sick, I-- I could squeeze you in,” she stammered, grimacing at the way she was sounding. 

“Great,” Lena grinned, though, she still looked a bit confused. “You’ll meet me outside?” 

“Sure, right. I’ll meet you outside.”