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electrasev5nwrites · 2 years ago

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Ninja Daily: Vapors 72

“Are you sure that we should not end this genjutsu?” Sai gave what she imagined was a suspicious glare at a fat kitten happily lapping up milk outside the genjutsu house she’d led them to. It was probably indifference, but it made her snicker to think of him being angry with kittens. “It would simplify finding the entrance.”

“I’m sure. We don’t necessarily want this found by anyone else.”

Besides, it was fucking hilarious that Orochimaru or one of his people had gone to such ridiculous lengths to disguise their hideout. It just seemed… well, not very evil to go to the work of programming in happily gamboling kittens into their hidden lair’s defenses.

‘Maybe I was closer than I realized when I did my exercise trying to get into the mind of a madman. Orochimaru couldn’t have been all that bad if he liked fluffy animals.’

Aiko nibbled on her lower lip, scrunching her face up in thought. Something about that just wasn’t quite right.

‘That’s probably a dangerous thought. The fact that he had some human qualities doesn’t mitigate what a gigantic jackass he really was. That’s like making an apologia for Danzo. Sure, he probably didn’t start out nuts. In fact, it may well be true that he had permission to form Root and his real failure came when he refused to disband it after the war.’ She sniffed, tugging at her wig. ‘That says something sad about the slippery slope of ninja morality, I think. Yesterday you were performing a needed function, and then before you know it you’re attempting to take over the world and getting eyeballs put into your arm. It could happen to anybody, really.’

“What are you doing?”

“I’m thinking. Deep thoughts for deep people,” she replied absentmindedly, sniffing at the air and following the faint seeping of stale air. The trail led her to drop onto her knees, feeling around in the grass with her hands, digging her fingers into dirt and—She tapped again, feeling a lack of give beneath her.

“Hellooo,” she purred, scratching without care for the filth accumulating beneath her nails, bending back to fold her legs so that she rested with little weight on her elbows and could poke around and work with her hands without adjusting too much.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Don’t care.”

“Like a dog.”

“Woof,” Aiko shot back distractedly.

She wasn’t so dignified that she really cared about letting her ass hang in the air when there was snooping to be done. This was kind of fun, actually. Aiko forced down a sneeze, closing her eyes against the dust she was disturbing, but kept working. “I think this is a back entrance,” she informed unnecessarily. Sai wouldn’t have known the difference, but if this was really the entrance, it wouldn’t have been literally buried.

‘I’m so good that I found the super-hidden secret entrance,’ her mind crowed, doing the mental equivalent of a fist pump.

Her arm and shoulder muscles shook with the effort of prying up the trap door once she finally got her fingers around the edge. Thankfully, she’d managed to find the hinge side first at least, as demonstrated by the way that it wiggled a little. Sai bent by her side and forced his fingers under the door as well. It came up much more easily with two people working on it, hinging upwards with a horrible scraping sound.

Nose twitching, Aiko whipped her mask up and covered her face with her elbow to catch the three petite sneezes that welled up involuntarily at the rust particles that tickled her nose.

“That hasn’t been opened in a long time,” she wheezed a little, backing away slightly and shaking her head. Ugh. This was the worst part of training as a scent tracker. You were much more sensitive to problems like that. She got the sense that Sai was growing impatient, so she hurriedly enjoyed the sensation of wind on her face for a moment before she dutifully pulled her mask back down and took one final sniff over the entrance. “Looks like a straight drop. There’s only one thing to do, then.” Her companion straightened in alarm, but she was already jumping agilely into the opening, arms curled in front of her chest and legs bent to soften her landing.

The preparation was unnecessary. The entrance was low enough overhead that she could leap up unassisted. That made sense, if this was really an emergency exit of some sort. She saw a blur, and then Sai was straightening at her side.

Alarmed, she looked up in time to see that the trap door had slammed shut, leaving them in complete darkness. Aiko fidgeted. Probably should have seen that coming. “Well, we’ll find another way out,” she sighed. “Keep an eye out. There’s bound to be some sort of lighting system down here. The electricity might still be running, since any generator in the water won’t have been disabled as far as we know. Even if it’s not, there’s going to be something we can light.”

Her words might have been prophetic, because feeling her way along the wall revealed a light switch. ‘Much better.’

It was a bit dim, but the light led her to another switch, and another, and the combined light sources gave a clinical brightness to the facility they found themselves in.

Their entrance had been in a storage area. Gingerly, Aiko pulled up sheets and tugged open boxes, but all that she found was uninteresting to her.

The lab equipment was probably forbiddingly expensive, but she didn’t even have the knowledge to imagine what half of it was for. Aiko heaved a put-open sigh. “There’s bound to be something more interesting around here.” Sai wordlessly set down the machine he’d been examining and followed her out into the hallway they’d already lit. With a shrug, she turned to the left. Without knowing the layout, all she could do was guess and check every doorway.

“Jackpot?” she asked sarcastically when the second door they opened turned out to be a laboratory of some sort.

“Poisons research,” Sai confirmed blandly, carefully not touching any of the dusty beakers. “I imagine all this was abandoned when Orochimaru died and his replacement apparently decided to commit his efforts to war instead.”

“Probably for the best.” Dust swirled around her ankles as she searched the area. “Records would be nearby so they could use them, right?”

He wasn’t a medic nin of any sort either, so Sai’s guess wasn’t any better than hers. The first two doors were supply closets, but the third revealed a small office of some sort with a bookshelf full of notes, organized by experiment number.

Aiko pulled open the first of her prepared scrolls while Sai handed her reports, sealing the largest piles that she could into each individual seal in the scroll. It would be too ridiculous to set it so that an entire library flew out into Danzo’s face when he tried to open it, but she was hardly about to spend the time sealing each notebook individually.

‘It would be funny to have this literally explode in Danzo’s face, but I’ll have to settle for it doing that figuratively.’

If she saw something that she wanted, she would take it. If she saw something that was too dangerous to allow in Danzo’s hands, she would destroy it. But he didn’t have the facilities to carry on these types of experiments, and they were a bad thing to be caught holding. Having them in his possession would prove to Tsunade that he had been involved with Orochimaru.

Danzo actually had been involved with the criminal, of course. Orochimaru had been the one to give him his Sharingan implants. No one else from Konoha could have done such a thing, aside from Tsunade, who would have remembered giving Danzo unethical augmentation surgery. But it would be salt in the wound for Tsunade. At this point, Danzo deserved what he would get.

When that library was cleared out, they closed the door behind them and carried on. The next few areas were useless to them, either small training facilities or barracks. Clearly, living conditions had been less than fabulous under Orochimaru. The nearby kitchen was a mess. Someone had abandoned it without doing the dishes.

Sai caught her twitch towards the sink. His amusement was enough to remind her to steel herself. Since she couldn’t clean the filth, Aiko instead hurried out of the room, eager to turn her back on the unpleasant mess.

An oversized set of doors led down a hallway with only one suite of rooms attached. It was of far higher quality than the other rooms seen so far, clearly designed for comfort. Aiko ran the pads of her fingers along the blue sheets to confirm that they were indeed silk.

“Orochimaru appears to have had a taste for the finer things in life,” she remarked blandly, wiping the dust off onto her pants.

“Over here.” She flickered to Sai’s side with a reflexive Hiraishin. Luckily he hadn’t been looking at her when she accidently displayed that she had tagged him. The small office attached to the bedroom was enough to occupy his attention.

It was nice, but functional. Aiko had to wince at the seven bookshelves and chose to poke through the desk first. “Nice pens.” She tossed the writing implements onto the floor and tugged out the false bottom in the flat drawer, surreptitiously tagging it with a seal as she let it drop. ‘Might need a quick escape later. If push comes to shove, I can find the trap door from here and blast it open.’ The drawer hit the ground with a clatter that Sai no doubt disapproved of, but it wasn’t as if they had to hide the signs of their presence. If anyone was around they would kill them. If no one was around, then the only ones who would see would be the Root operatives that would no doubt follow up on their mission to secure the area as a safehouse.

“Boring.” She set the financial reports she’d found back down to free up her hands to open another sealing scroll, stuffing them inside. May as well bury Danzo in paperwork.

Aiko glanced at titles as she hastily stored the rest of the available materials, scanning for anything of interest. Her mind was nearly numb when she first encountered the first thing that piqued her interest. Without missing a beat, she unrolled a fourth scroll and sealed the jutsu scroll inside as if she’d merely run out of room in her last one or was making another sorting categorization.

Sai wasn’t paying attention to her anyway, busy as he was indiscriminately dumping the contents of his own bookcase into a scroll. The lack of finesse brought a smile to her face.

‘I hope Danzo likes having an entire library leap up and smack him in the face.’

The word Uchiha caught her eye. Proof about Danzo’s involvement in the massacre, perhaps? Aiko scanned the document… and felt sick to her stomach.

‘Wow, I’m glad Orochimaru died when he did.’ She swallowed hard, face pale. ‘He must have had excellent spies in the hospital. I don’t think that anyone was told about her.’

There was the option of putting it into the scroll she meant to steal. But there was always the chance that Sai would confront her and she would be forced to hand that scroll over. This absolutely could not fall into Danzo’s hands.

Without swiveling to see if Sai was looking, she crumpled the paper in her hands and lit it on fire with the spark jutsu meant to start campfires.

“Washboard?”

She glanced at her curious companion and continued working without a word. Let him make of that what he would. She couldn’t risk bringing proof to Danzo that there was more than one Uchiha in Konoha. Sasuke would never forgive her, even if she could stomach the thought of letting Danzo get his claws on another child.

Sai might tell Danzo… but what would he say? That she burnt a paper he didn’t see? He would be conflicted. It could have been unimportant, and he wouldn’t want her killed over potentially nothing, when the information was gone already.

After that, her comrade kept a closer eye on her. She didn’t avoid using the scroll that she meant to take. It would be more suspicious than likely to help her. Reports on Danzo himself, other people that Orochimaru had determined to be of interest, and a couple other jutsu scrolls that Orochimaru must have picked up after leaving Konoha went into her scroll. Every time that Sai turned around she switched out more scrolls, moving their positions and adding new ones to ensure that he couldn’t know she was putting books of interest in one scroll or even how many she was using. When her scroll hit capacity, she slipped it into her hip pouch and kept going. Anything of interest she found after that would have to go to Danzo.

He ended up getting a few jutsu scrolls, but that was fine. Orochimaru was famous for attempting to learn all possible jutsu, so it made sense that he would have had reading material of that sort in every hideout he had a room. Danzo might have actually been suspicious if none of that had come in what he received. Luckily, she didn’t see anything that looked particularly close to what she wanted to keep out of Danzo’s greedy paws.

For the moment, she didn’t care if Danzo managed to make his Root stronger by setting up footholds in Orochimaru’s old bases. He could gather up all the useless data he wanted, waste his time trying to piece through Orochimaru’s paperwork and further implicate himself with sensitive information for all she cared. Given opportunity, he would probably overextend himself and damage his own ability to counter her or Tsunade by distracting himself.

What she didn’t want was for him to improve his position. Orochimaru was the kind of man who would have plenty of useful contacts, many of whom would have been obtained through leverage like blackmail. He had certainly kept such information on Danzo, though she couldn’t hope to confiscate that. The Root commander would be looking for it.

She’d done what she could to prevent him from gaining more leverage, though. It would have to be enough. The filled documents went into her hip pouch and the little knapsack that Sai carried, leaving them little room for anything else.

“We’ve found more than I anticipated.” Aiko frowned worriedly at the empty room. “That was probably the most important cache, but if there’s more, we’ll have to come back for it. I only have one more scroll, and it’s half-full.”

“We shall have to return. Danzo-sama will be pleased.”

Her lips thinned. “Yes, he will,” she agreed blandly. “Let’s find our way out.”

Since the path they’d initially taken had come to a dead end with Orochimaru’s quarters, they backtracked all the way to the first hallway and continued on. Barracks, washroom, office, lounge… Aiko stopped, sniffing the air like a hound.

“Is something wrong?”

“I smell fresh air,” she confided lowly, a hand twitching towards the hilt of her blade.

Sai seemed puzzled. “Is that not a good thing?”

She shook her head, turning her stride into a silent prowl that hugged the edges of the hall. “It would be far fainter if the entrance was sealed. Someone else has been here.” Her quiet tones seemed to put him on guard as well. The warning her senses had provided were invaluable, because the other shinobi stalking the halls were silent as well, chakra signatures obscured by one of their party members. There was a moment of silence when the first man turned the corner of the corridor ahead of them, his eyes widening as if in slow motion.

‘Rock shinobi,’ her mind catalogued at the sight of his unscratched headband. It was kill or be killed. Even if their countries had been allies, there was a good chance that they would try to kill her to protect this potential resource.

His mouth was opening and a smaller foot had just appeared around the corridor when she was already tossing the sole Hiraishin kunai she had packed at his gut. He dodged to the side, but she’d already snatched her weapon out of the air and stabbed deeply into his kidney, fiercely tearing a four inch gouge towards his spine and pulling it out even as she moved to hit the woman who had followed him around the turn.

The kunoichi reflexively blocked, but it only took a touch for Aiko to plant a trapped seal on her forearm and rubber band past her to the—oh lord, there were three more of them. The first man was heavily wounded, but she and Sai would have to take the rest of them down fast and hard. Sai was suddenly at her side parrying an oversized blade coming in from above as a tall shinobi swung it off his back, so Aiko ducked down under and broke free of the cluster to flip around with a leap that left her hanging in the air for a moment.

The two men at the back were turning to face her. One of them didn’t have a rock headband at all. A Sound traitor who’d led them here, perhaps? A good sign that Rock couldn’t find this on their own. When this team never returned, management would assume that they’d been betrayed by the outsider.

The woman she’d tagged earlier had dropped to her knees to lay green glowing hands on her wounded teammate. The medic, then.

The analysis only took a moment.

‘This seems like an excellent time to try that old idea.’ Aiko gave an involuntary grin as she holstered her kunai, stretching her lips wide to bare her teeth even as she reached out and violently snapped the array tentatively holding her recently planted Hiraishin seal together.

Her victim’s arm exploded like she’d dipped it in C4, ripping apart the medic’s other arm, her face, and the back of the man she was trying to heal. Blood and organ spatter coated the walls and the backs of the four men in the hallway.

‘It works!’ She let out a loud laugh, tapping down on the floor and shooting forward to duck back into the mob. ‘Whoa. That was more impressive than expected. That means I only have to touch someone once in order to end them.’

“You bitch!” the tallest man shrieked, white-eyed and furious. He abandoned his fight with Sai to turn towards her, ready to pull his sword free and bring it in a clothesline twist to cut her in half. It was a mistake. The other Root agent slipped his short sword from under the man’s oversized weapon and cut out his throat in a flash, pulling it out and zipping in to slice through his torso three times before the corpse fell like the lump of flesh it was.

Aiko had already been distracted exchanging blows with the two survivors before the third casualty hit the floor, pushed back. Frantically, she swerved and stepped around two different sets of blows. If she’d had the time, she would have been thanking every kami for her speed. The first man was wielding what looked like Sarutobi Asuma’s short chakra enhanced blades. He must have been a wind user as well, because backing away from the first blow that came too close wasn’t enough to avoid the hit.

“Ah!” She bent over involuntarily, one arm curling around her torso to protect it from further damage, using her left to deflect the next blow and quick-stepping backwards to gain some distance. Most of the technique had scraped ineffectually across her armor, but the edge had sliced into her side and bit into her back when she’d twisted to back away.

This was bad. She was blooded, and she couldn’t tell what exactly had been damaged until she had a moment to examine it. The more that she moved, the faster that she would bleed. It was also likely to exacerbate the damage.

‘I have to end this, now, or I’ll be dead.’ Aiko gritted her teeth against the pain and caught the next arm that entered her personal space, ignoring the ugly slice the wind blade gouged into her arm, nearly sending a huge flap of skin flopping off and exposing muscle tissue. Her fingers lightly squeezed his wrist in reflexive reaction to the pain, but she’d already set the explosive seal on the top of his arm where her fingers almost met her thumb. Big wrists. She leapt away, letting the force rip her hand off his arm since she couldn’t quite communicate with her muscles to adjust her grip, and detonated her new explosive toy with less force than last time to save her own limbs.

The unmarked shinobi was left blinking at the stub where his arm had been, mouth gaping. His last companion was already closing the distance. She pulled her short blade off her back to block his blow—but let her arm fall so that the blade nearly touched the floor.

There was no point. Sai had already severed his head and swung around to stab his blade into the one-armed man’s back and drag it slowly down to his hip. Stupidly, he blinked down at the tip protruding from his stomach before his knees gave out.

In the sudden quiet, Aiko noticed for the first time that she appeared to be leaking red liquid at an alarming rate. Mildly concerning.

“Are you alright?”

“I’d be better if he hadn’t lost control of his bowels,” Aiko reflexively joked back, before tentatively trying to straighten. She cringed, losing hold of her own blade and nearly wobbling to her knees. White pressed against her vision. “I’ve been better,” she allowed after a moment, painstakingly sheathing her blade on her back again. Now that she’d stopped fighting for her life… “I think I need medical attention. I don’t suppose you have a field medicine kit?” she asked dryly, trying and failing to twist to see the wound. She ended up running her fingers over her wound to examine it as best as she could without a mirror. “I don’t carry one.”

Cold fingers gently pulled apart her ripped shirt to peer at the exposed skin around her armor’s fasteners. “No. I am not certified.”

“I take it I’m not about to die?” Aiko asked dryly when it seemed that he wasn’t going to offer comment on his own.

“It’s not deep. Perhaps an inch or so at the entry point. Can you make it to a more secure location?” Sai hovered at her side uncertainly.

‘I have to.’

Aiko nodded and awkwardly held her flesh together, steeling herself to continue walking. If she’d managed to fight, she could keep moving. The group they had encountered had apparently just entered the facility, making it easy to trace their way out to the source of the fresh air and faint light. They’d been in the darkness for longer than she had realized. It was evening.

“We’re a fifteen minute run from the small village,” Sai informed unnecessarily, hand twitching to her shoulders.

The girl shook her head, considering their situation as best as she could. “We can’t go there. If those guys have back-up, they’ll be there.”

“You cannot run two hours to the other town, and I cannot carry you that far,” Sai protested, actually managing to sound somewhat upset. “Use your Hiraishin to return to Konoha for medical attention.”

‘He must be upset to think that’s a viable solution.’

“I can’t explain this,” Aiko said dryly, gesturing to her Root uniform and injuries with her free hand. “This uniform would raise questions, but so would showing up naked, our other option. Are there medics in Root?” As if it would help, she pushed her mask up onto the top of her head. After a moment, Sai copied her.

“There are, but getting to one in such a condition will be a problem as well.”

“Well, we don’t have much choice.” Aiko sighed, rubbing a hand over her face and inadvertently smearing blood where she touched. “C’mere. I’ll take us to my apartment. Just… give me a moment to catch my breath.”

Tsunade might have been right about the initiative to put a medic of some level on every team, but it wasn’t a good time to complain about lost opportunity. She sure as hell wasn’t going to end up stuck as a medic. Generally speaking, it was a career ending move, or would at least reduce her to a support position. Fuck that shit.

A flicker of unpleasantly familiar chakra buzzed at her consciousness like an irritating insect when her comrade moved in close to steady her, and she moved to brush the feeling away. Slowly as she was moving, Sai was able to move back before her fingers lightly connected with his jaw and gave her an odd look.

‘That was weird.’ Aiko blinked quickly, trying to clear her head. ‘Blood loss, or did I actually feel something? I thought it was…’ Comprehension dawned. ‘I think I was sensing Danzo’s chakra signature in his Root seal. Kami only knows I should be familiar with it by now.’

Not something she really had the faculties to ponder right then. “Alright, hold on.” It took more effort than usual to reach out and pull on the seal in her bedroom, but she got them there. Sai looked a bit ill at the long trip, but dutifully lurked until she managed to semi-steadily walk to her couch.

“How do we get a hold of a medic?” she asked, still holding onto Sai with slightly more force than was entirely dignified.

“We don’t. I will.”

Rudely, she blew a raspberry at her comrade, but didn’t complain while he left. The scroll that was for her personal use was almost immediately hidden between her couch cushions and the others juggled so as to obscure the fact that the pouch should have one more. Hopefully, even if someone snuck around, they would discount such a stupid hiding place. She should have stayed awake to wait for the medic, but it just wasn’t happening. Exhausted by a combination of blood loss, strain, and lack of sleep, Aiko tugged her mask completely off and easily drifted off into a state of bare consciousness, only waking when the door opened to show that Sai had returned with a rather large person.

“Oh, for the love of-” Aiko scowled, putting her hands on her hips. “You.”

Sai blinked and looked between her and Shou. “Is there a problem?”

‘Color me surprised. He didn’t strike me as a medic at all. What doesn’t this guy do?’ Turquoise eyes narrowed at a rather uncomfortable-looking Boar. There wasn’t any point in ticking off her medic, however. “Not at all.”

Sai perched on the back of the couch and watched the medic work, working around the clothes that he could and removing those he couldn’t, namely the chest plate. He was actually pretty good as a healer, all things considered, even if he did do a poor job of hiding his surprise when she pulled up her hair and inadvertently revealed her somewhat indecent tattoo of Tsunade.

“You’re a brave woman,” he commented idly, running a cool hand over her open wound with a tickle of chakra that she could tell was repairing internal damage, lacing together cells.

‘Captain has a matching one,’ she thought about saying. But it would be pretty unsporting to sell him out, even if nothing ever came of it.

Boar left as quickly as possible. It was impossible to see her back, but the ugly mess of her arm had been reduced to a silvery, near-invisible scar at the entry point. That boded well.

“Help me get out of this? I’d like to not wallow in bloody clothes.” She’d probably rubbed a quarter cup of blood into her couch as it was. The stink was going to linger. Sai moved to pull her ruined top the rest of the way off, clinically pulling off the untouched glove to join the ruined one Shou had removed to heal her arm on the table. “Yeah, thanks. I can get the rest on my own,” she demurred when he gave a rather hopeless look to her ANBU pants.

It would have been a massive pain to struggle with getting a shirt over her head from her seated position, but she could take care of pants. Cute as he was, she didn’t particularly want to sit around in just her underwear, even if he was clinical about seeing her in her bra. The pants weren’t cut or nearly as saturated with fluids. Changing may have been stupid when she would have to redress in a minute to go report, but showing up to report to Danzo covered in her own blood with half her back and waist exposed under a wrecked shirt reeked of vulnerability. A uniform wasn’t much of armor against him, but it was better than nothing.

“Washboard? Why did you destroy evidence back at that base?”

Tiredly, she glanced up at him through her eyelashes. “I suppose it would be too much to hope that you’d forgotten.” Aiko licked her lips, dehydrated but uninterested in going in search of a drink while she searched for words. She settled for honesty. “I was protecting someone precious to me.”

Sai’s eyes narrowed. “Someone… precious?” he asked slowly, uncertainly, sounding lost.

“Danzo-sama…” That wasn’t a good start, so she cleared her throat to try again. “I don’t like the way he trains and treats his operatives,” she admitted. “Konoha needs an organization like Root to compete with other villages, but there’s no reason to treat his people so poorly. He’s wrong about a lot of things.”

Dumbsmacked, Sai let his lips open slightly. He blinked twice. “I… see.”

“Do you?” she countered, seriously curious. She’d laid her cards out. If she had misjudged him, this would end badly for her.

“I…” He licked his lips. “I.” Obvious distress appeared on his normally opaque features. With the air of a tortured confession, the teen opened his mouth and let it hang for a moment. “I have had… concerns.” Utterly miserable, Sai curled a hand into a fist. “Differences of opinion,” he clarified, in a way that really didn’t clarify much of anything.

Her heart melted a little bit. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He seemed to be weighing her up. “I had a brother once.” As if that explained everything that needed to be said, he stalked off into the kitchen.

Aiko blinked at the back of his head. ‘Well, that was cryptic.’

His voice seemed returned to normal when he spoke again over the faint sound of water running. “Do you need assistance getting re-dressed? We must report.” He appeared again and handed her a glass of water, as if ordering her to ameliorate her blood loss by rehydrating.

Out loud, she said, “Would you go grab a replacement shirt from my room? I want to wash up as best as I can.” Aiko drained the water with speed that would have given a medic apoplexy and walked to the bathroom with more effort than was usually required, eager to scrub up the worst of the crust on her arms and torso. Sai had appeared in the doorway with a new shirt as she was tossing two ruined green washcloths into the trash can. “Thanks.” With a grimace, she pulled the shirt on quickly, as if ripping a bandaid. Boar was definitely no Tsunade, or even Sasuke, and she was definitely going to be even more sore in the morning.

Impatient, Sai tucked her chestplate against her torso and circled her back to secure it himself while she fixed her wig and mask.

‘That water was a good idea. I feel a bit steadier.’

Still queasy, though, but that might have been because she was about to go report to a man who had already done her harm with a comrade who was clearly wavering on which one of them he wanted to do right by. If Sai told Danzo that she had destroyed something important, he might kill her on the spot. She was fast, but he was canny.

If she died in Root, there would be no justice for her. Tsunade couldn’t acknowledge that association. She would simply disappear, or Danzo would create the impression that she’d died on duty or ran off.

Aiko took a deep breath, ignoring the quaver, and set out the door with her head held high.

They ran through the village as if they owned the place since hiding would be more suspicious in the light, blending in with a patrol at one point and having to exchange credentials. Obviously, she gave them her root verifications and not her regular or ANBU verifications. The information was all valid, but for an imaginary solder Danzo had put into the system with paperwork magic. Memorizing three sets of credentials was annoying, though.

After a while, she realized that they weren’t headed anywhere she recognized from her Root forays. In fact, they appeared to be heading to one of the upper scale residential districts.

‘Are we going directly to Danzo’s home?’ She scoffed at her own foolishness. Of course he didn’t lurk in tunnels at all hours. It would be idiotic to just start checking meeting rooms. This meeting was unplanned, so of course he hadn’t made an appointment and summons.

That lapse was enough to drive home that she was far from at her best state and prepared to match wits with the man who held her life in his wrinkled claws.

‘This meeting could go badly enough even if I wasn’t affected by blood loss,’ Aiko thought bitterly. ‘Either I have poor luck, or the gods are with Danzo.’

There was no mistaking the presence lingering and seeping from the inside of a conventional-looking home. Aiko belatedly resisted moving a hand towards her head, by now associating his chakra with pain. Sai’s white mask swiveled to survey her for an instant as if he’d caught the twitch and wondered what it meant, but he led the way in through a back entrance. “Tell Danzo-sama that we are here for a debriefing,” he quietly instructed the woman who came to greet them. From her graceful movements, she was a shinobi as well, and probably accustomed to those requests.

Aiko did her best not to look around at the surroundings with curiosity—or at least, not to let on that was what she was doing. If she had no other options, she might find herself creeping down these halls one day, and knowing the floor plan could only be beneficial.

Such a home invasion wouldn’t be her first choice, especially since the area she was led to was clearly unconnected to his personal quarters. They knelt with bowed heads to give their report in a small office, but she would bet any amount of money that there was nothing of real import in this room.

Excepting, of course, the documents she and Sai held in their possession.

“Am I to assume that you are successful?”

“We located-”

“Not you,” Danzo snapped at Sai’s soft murmurs, cutting him off briskly. “I assigned the other agent leadership.”

‘What the fuck? That’s strict chain of command for such an arbitrary assignment. Is he testing my leadership capabilities?’

Bleakly, Aiko began. As she spoke, the woman from earlier carried in a tea tray with a single cup and set it beside Danzo before backing out silently. “We located the former facilities at coordinates marked on the map given us for the mission. Inside we found and retrieved information in a laboratory and what appeared to have been an office maintained for Orochimaru’s personal use, enough to exhaust our storage capabilities. Inside the base, we encountered and eliminated five hostiles, four of whom bore Rock identifications. I have left a seal so that we may return at a future date, and can provide a partial sketch of the layout.”

“Rock…” Danzo mused, sounding not pleased at all. “I see. They grow bold indeed.” After a sigh, he switched topics. “What type of information did you retrieve?”

“Medical reports on several hundred experiments and subjects, financial data from Sound’s administration, several-”

“That’s enough. Give them to me.” Aiko rose just enough to unzip her hip pouch and lay out six scrolls onto his desk. At her side, Sai extracted a pile of his own and set them beside hers. Danzo picked one up and briefly examined it, rubbing a dry thumb over the soft material as if inspecting for defects. “I see. Agent codenamed Sai, have you come to a decision on your junior agent’s performance?”

Her heart stopped. ‘Well,’ she thought with a tinge of irony, ‘this explains why I was put in charge. Danzo was giving me rope to strangle myself with.’ Unavoidably, her muscles tensed. If Sai was going to sell her out… She could flee to Kakashi and beg him to escort her to Tsunade immediately, tell her that the mission was a bust and they needed to make a move on Danzo now, that her extraction was unavoidable or cover was blown and-

“She performed admirably,” Sai murmured, not raising his head. "in both a position of command and in locating the premises without assistance. Her combat is also passable. I recommend full instatement.”

“Humph,” Danzo grunted noncommittally, leaning forward slightly to examine her with a rheumy eye. “Very well, then. You may leave.” Aiko lingered awkwardly—he was definitely just indicating Sai, but he hadn’t talked to her alone since the first meeting. “Have a seat.”

It felt like a trick, but she did as she was told, pressing her knees together to keep them from shaking. The swell of his chakra was bothering her so much that it seemed insane that she had never noticed it this way before. It felt sick, bloated, tainted. He was very ill, though whether she was registering a physical or mental illness impossible for her to discern. She would never forget it. It might be that she was developing better senses or just that she was overly familiar with his in particular, but it left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Calm yourself, child. I do not bite.”

‘Oh, we’re back to the grandfather routine?’

Danzo seemed to use classic abuser tactics, though whether or not he realized that was up for debate. He engendered intense feelings like loyalty or affection, would give praise, and then likely remove his approval later like he seemed to be doing to Sai, making him desperate to work for stingily rewarded praise. It was a vicious cycle, but a very persuasive one.

‘I hate him. I hate this man. He’s awful.’

Outwardly, she relaxed her muscles obediently and kept a faint smile plastered on her face under her mask, as if he could see it. He might, for all that she knew.

“You are young,” he began, as if imparting great wisdom. “Let me tell you about true strength. It is the way of a shinobi to break emotional attachment, for emotions lead to weakness in character and judgment.”

‘Thanks for the lecture, grandfather time. This is like the inverse of Kakashi’s philosophy,’ she noted with wary amusement, not letting herself dwell too deeply on his words. They couldn’t convince her if she didn’t listen. ‘I’m getting the Danzo version of ‘welcome to the team, let’s get to know each other’, I think’.

“Shinobi serve the village, working for the betterment of the most people and not selfishly clinging to the welfare of a few. Passion only begets pain,” the old man stressed firmly, fingers turning white as he clutched a small wooden token she couldn’t quite make out.

‘My name is Danzo’, she mocked internally, pulse jumping. ‘My hobby is lurking and coming up with new ways to put the ‘fun’ in ‘orphan’. My dislikes are free will and the creeping realization that I am inferior to my old friend Sarutobi in every way. Also strawberry mochi.’

“And that pain will lead you down the path of revenge. It is no wise thing to form attachment, Aiko. When you live as long as I have, you see many comrades die. But those deaths are only a tragedy when they are wasted because of unwise attachments that cloud judgment.”

Making fun of him was getting a bit harder, because something he was saying was resonating.

“Do you understand, child?”

“Hai, Danzo-sama.”

His head seemed to shake slightly, but his eye was perfectly bright and clear when he pinned her with a piercing stare. “Take heed of my words, and learn from the examples of others.” He took the single cup of tea and tipped it up to his mouth for a leisurely sip, closing his eye. “Your codename will be Sakura.”

Her heart stopped. Everything stopped. But Danzo kept talking as if he hadn’t just done the conversational equivalent of shoving an ice pick in her head.

“I hear you have been involved in diplomatic missions with both the Kazekage and the Mizukage. I would like a full report on their personalities and habits delivered to me when next I summon you. Excluding tomorrow, of course.”

“Hai, Danzo-sama,” came the wooden reply from her mouth. It seemed as if someone else was operating her body. It was trembling beyond her control.

“Very good then, Sakura, my girl.” Slowly, the old man stood and shuffled to the door. He stood there for a moment. “One more thing. I made a small timing error in assigning you a five day mission. The monthly meeting with the large council is the day after tomorrow. I hope that you will make it.”

The casualness in that statement rang false, but she couldn’t bring herself to care that he’d been planning to keep her from any possible political influence until he’d determined her worth.

His kimono rustled lightly on the ground as he trailed out like a snake in the grass, but her limbs were frozen with lactic acid. It took a tremendous effort to will herself to stand and make her way out of the building.

‘That code name wasn’t an accident,’ Aiko realized numbly. ‘He’s making a point. Sakura…’ She gave a choked laugh, mindless of where she was. ‘Is he saying I got her killed because I was too attached to Naruto? How could he possibly know I had any recourse to affect that outcome?’

Cold, hard logic sank in, but provided no comfort this time. No. He had been making another argument. He had been careful to wait to give her a code name until he had been at a certain position in the conversation, after having detailed how misplaced emotions were often a cause of weakness and death. Danzo had meant that to be a bitter blow, no doubt about it, a warning to harden her heart, but he had been making the claim using what he would think was an example she would be familiar with of a stupid, pointless death.

Danzo had been claiming that Sakura had gotten herself killed because she had tried to save Sasuke, and that she was the epitome of a weak shinobi Aiko should strive to be separate from.

That was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Sakura had been… soft, yes. She had been everything that a man like Danzo would hate. But she hadn’t been weak. She must have been so scared that day, and rightly so. A hundred highly trained shinobi would have frozen in her place. It hadn’t been weakness that had drawn her into a fight she couldn’t win, against ludicrous odds. She’d been trying to protect someone she cared deeply for. That wasn’t weakness.

And if it was weakness to try to keep your loved ones safe even when you can’t see a chance for success, this wasn’t a world Aiko wanted to live in. So it couldn’t be true.

“Where are you going?”

Aiko blinked, registering that she was outside. That was Sai. Sai had waited outside for her… and she could feel Danzo’s chakra clinging to him like a parasite, leeching off of his health and sanity and free will.

A shudder wracked her body, but the feeling of revulsion fled when Sai tentatively brushed his fingers against her shoulder. His chakra. She just had to concentrate on his chakra and keep herself grounded. “Pardon my lapse,” she managed jerkily. “I was in thought.”

He stared. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel it.

“I would like to talk to you,” he settled cautiously.

‘Right,’ she remembered, gratefully latching onto the distraction and trying to focus on that. ‘He just saved my skin. He will probably want to be sure he made the right choice.’ She managed a weak smile before remembering it couldn’t be seen anyways. “My apartment, then?”

“That would be acceptable.”

Aiko barely noted the trip home, pushing her door open and crawling mindlessly onto her bed with her full gear on, boots included. She positioned herself with her back to the wall, knees defensively pulled up and a pillow to her chest.

“Washboard?”

Oh. She blinked up at him, pushing her mask up and noticing vaguely that her palm brushed a strange wetness on her cheek as she did so. “Hai, Sai-kun?” Her mild tone seemed to unnerve him further, but she couldn’t imagine why.

Visible hesitation was written in his muscles, but Sai slowly removed his own mask and gently took hers off her head, laying them both on her bedside table. “May I ask why you are upset?”

It wasn’t like her at all to share what was really going on in her head without carefully planning and packaging the words for her audience, but she was too tired for that now. “He gave me my code name,” Aiko confided blandly. “Sakura.”

He looked mildly concussed. It was probably his version of confusion.

“That’s the name of a genin I got killed,” she explained conversationally. “Naruto and Sasuke’s teammate. Sweet girl.”

If it were possible to him to scream the words, ‘I feel trapped and uncomfortable and do not know how to rectify this unpleasant sensation without violence, but I sense that killing you is not the appropriate answer’ without words, that would be the best way to sum up the conflict written in the way that he carefully did not breathe or twitch. It was like he expected her to pounce, or start sobbing.

“I hate him. He fucks with my head. Did I tell you he used a genjutsu on me, the first time I met with him? I found out a few days ago. It’d been affecting my behavior.” The words just wouldn’t stop coming, bland and factually impersonable. Was this what it was like to be Naruto? What it was like to be honest and open? It was awful. “It hadn’t been meant to come off. Either he thinks I’m disposable and doesn’t mind damaging me, or he didn’t know what he was doing. I’d already begun experiencing migraines, inability to sleep, and personality changes. Was that the point?”

“Washboard, stop.”

She stopped.

Tentatively, Sai sat down on the bed, keeping a careful distance and a nonthreatening posture.

‘I want a hug,’ she realized with open misery. ‘A hug and someone to tell me it’s going to be better.’ Sai was far too broken for that. He was making huge changes as a person, growing and evolving and doubtlessly going to become a far better human being than she could hope to be, but he was not capable of offering her comfort of his own initiative.

So she took it, leaning in and pulling her arms around his torso, and just tried to stop thinking for once in her life. After a long moment, thin fingers laced through her hair and trailed down to rest on her upper back uncertainly.

“I’m sorry. I just made this all about me, didn’t I,” she choked out a laugh, pulling backwards. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Nothing,” he said softly, looking down at his hands. “Nothing at all.”

Omake

Sai stared blankly at a certain brick in the house across from Danzo’s, inadvertently alarming the woman watering her window-box azaleas.

‘I would like to have an emotionally honest conversation with you,’ he drafted, before immediately nixing the beginning of yet another potential conversation. No, that wasn’t right.

‘I am considering engaging in a bit of light treason with you, and would like to offer my apologies for inducting you into-’

That wouldn’t work either. There was no good way to end that sentence.

If he could, he would have frowned, but he was too well-trained to do that. In any case, those attempts were not likely to yield productive discussion. It was possible that he was mistaken, and Washboard was in fact loyal to Danzo-sama. Such an abrupt, unsubtle approach could end very badly.

He had observed from his readings in Icha Icha Pirate: Get the Booty, Icha Icha Spring Blossom, and Icha Icha Hidden Treasure that women were prone to engaging in emotional or tactically sensitive dialogue once in a relationship.

‘Want to have sex?’ he tried, directly quoting all three of those books.

No, that wouldn’t do at all. He’d seen a man try that once, and Sai was not at all convinced that the real life application of such a rhetoric would work any better for him, no matter that it had always worked in the instruction manuals for human relationships that Kakashi-san had recommended to him. It might be something that only worked for experts on socialization.

‘Perhaps I should acquire another source,’ Sai pondered seriously. ‘If Jiraiya-sama’s instruction really was foolproof, surely Kakashi-san would have acquired a successful human relationship of his own after so many years of diligent study.’

#vapors #uzumaki aiko #electrasev5n #ninja daily #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction

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helpingthelongrain · 4 years ago

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It was unusual for a week to pass without a word or a visit.

And yet, he hadn’t questioned it.

She was ever busy, ever moving here and there through the wards, from the forests to the scrap yards, always with an eye on the road before her. Though often she had her frustrations and longed for stability, Raine was always on an adventure in one way or another.

And he would always remain the opposite. Yet, even with his hesitance, she still would reach out and speak with him, ask him to accompany her on whatever errand she had thought up, and would indulge her whims. Not because he felt he had to. But because, even despite the enjoyment he felt simply remaining within the confines of his store, he liked it.

Or, more specifically, Rinnosuke liked being with her.

Which is always why Kourindou felt just a tad lonelier without her presence. ... It was an odd feeling, really. For once, it felt like the man had something he lacked whenever she wasn’t around. And after he realized just how long it had been, that feeling truly began to gnaw at him. ... Surely she was alright, of course. Why wouldn’t she be?

After all, if she was frustrated or upset over something, she’d have let him know... right? That’s what he hoped. And while a part of him was alright with thinking just that...

It wasn’t really enough to sate that feeling. And so what other choice did he have but to reach out to her? Seated in his chair, the warmth of the furnace comfortably easing the man’s body, Rinnosuke carefully scrolled down the list of contacts. As always, there were too many names. Some he recognized, although most he had no recollection of.

And yet, as he searched for that one particular name...

“...?” He reached the bottom. Dead end. Had he missed it somehow? Scrolled by too fast, maybe? “Hm...”

Sure he could have just looked at their previous messages, but oddly, it seemed they no longer existed. However, he didn’t think much of it as he scrolled up through the sea of names on the small, illuminated screen, as a sudden chill began to creep into his body.

Up, up, up... down, down, down... up and up and up... down and down and down... that’s funny, wasn’t it? Normally it didn’t take him this long to find her name.

It was like...

— No.

Surely he was just missing it, somehow. That’s all.

... And yet, as the minutes would pass, Rinnosuke’s repeated search would continue to bear no fruit. That’s odd, wasn’t it? It really was almost as if she just...

— Stop it.

Idly, the man sighed. With a shaky hand, he’d set his phone down on the table, unable to look any longer as a bitter feeling began to well up in his chest. ... These phones weren’t all that reliable. Perhaps there was just some sort of issue. That’s all it was, right?

Never mind her name not showing up. Never mind the ominous eclipse which had passed by earlier. It was simply some sort of mistake.

... And yet,

why was he shivering now?

Why was he biting his lip, hard enough to draw blood?

...

Aah. Right. This was inevitable, wasn’t it?

People have come, and people have gone. It was something that was bound to happen someday. And yet... I wonder. Did I not ever consider what I would do if it happened to her? ... Of course not. I hadn’t even considered it. Perhaps if I had, I would have had time to prepare for... a situation such as this. And yet... and yet...

A hoarse cough escaped his throat after he inhaled just a bit too much smoke, stabbing the cigarette butt into the ashtray on his counter and soothing the burning in his throat with the burn of alcohol. The shop, which normally would still be open by this time, was locked shut. Yet it’s owner was ever in the same place, with a haze clouding his mind. He would go tomorrow, to her house, to see for himself...

But he didn’t have to. Because as much as he wanted to cling onto the hope that this was some sort of mistake, no matter how much he deluded himself, Rinnosuke knew better.

And yet... it really wasn’t fair, was it?

With Laika in his arms, the man stared up at the wooden ceiling above him, eyes misted over as the dull pain in his heart, and that ice-cold chill which had only grown colder remained with him.

Whenever Rinnosuke was hurt, his way of dealing with it was to indulge and forget. But this time, the half-human knew he wouldn’t be able to do either. Not for her.

And while a part of him could find some sort of happiness for this situation, in that she was probably back home now with those she loved... it wasn’t fair for him. He loved her too, after all. He knew how selfish that thought was, yet Rinnosuke couldn’t care less as the cigarette butts grew in number, and as the bottle of sake reached it’s end.

...

Raine was ever on an adventure, and Rinnosuke was where he always was. But this time, she wouldn’t be able to reach out to him. ... He just wished he had gotten the chance to tell her, for the last time, just how much he loved her and loved their short time together.

“Raine. I just... I hope... you’re happy...”

Quietly letting those words slip from his mouth, the man’s vision would blur from alcohol and tears... and pass out not too long after, Laika still in his lap, refusing to leave him alone.

#isola drabble #otherworldly healer #sneezes.. scratches my ass... this got way too long #his coping mechanisms really aren't. great lmao..#this is mostly self-indulgent but jdhgkh I felt writing something was. necessary

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bestiesenpai · 4 years ago

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skate rat choso

This is just a little drabble for skate rat Choso, I got inspo from a cute ass pic of him holding baby Itadori :) no content warnings for this, although I must say it might get cringe? I tried to be wholesome, so let's see how that worked out. Gender neutral readerrrr and idk if i need to say this but choso and reader are 18+ lol

It was finally the first warm sunny day of the season. Birds were chirping, sparse clouds dotted the sky and there wasn’t any pollen in the air to make Choso sneeze. It was the perfect day to go to the skate park.

“Got your helmet?” And of course he was going to bring his little brother Yuji along with him.

“Mhmm!” The excited six year old nodded, nearly falling over as he held up his little helmet covered in sparkly Kirby stickers. Heading out of the house, Yuji ran down the steps, leaving Choso behind to carry his bike and his own skateboard.

“Your backpack, don’t forget this!” Holding up the tiny bag, Choso shrugged his own bag on. Yuji’s didn’t have much in it besides a few bandaids and a bag of chips. Holding his arms up at the bottom of the steps, Yuji waited for Choso to put it on him.

“This is gonna be great!” As soon as he could, Yuji ran down the street with Choso taking longer strides behind him. The walk to the skate park wasn’t far, and they got there in no time to see a couple other people Choso’s age riding around.

“What do you want to do first, do you want to take off the training wheels right away?” Setting Yuji’s bike down, Choso dug in his back for the screwdriver he brought.

“Yeah!” Hopping on the bike, Yuji bounced up and down impatiently, already dreaming of how he was going to fly through the air on the bike. Tossing the now useless wheels to the side, Choso pressed his hand to Yuji’s back.

“I’m going to hold onto you for a little bit to make sure you don’t fall, okay?”

“I’m not a baby!” Yuji shouted, trying to shake off Choso’s hand.

“You’re my baby and I want you to be safe.” Gripping the back of his shirt, Choso stilled Yuji. “Now try to push off.”

Lifting his feet off the ground, Yuji let out a short yelp as he began to sway side to side. Nearly falling several times, he refused to give up and with an almost angry pout on his face he was able to push the pedals and get the wheels spinning forward.

“I’m doing it!” He gasped, looking down at his feet and the way he wasn’t falling over anymore.

“You’re doing great!” Choso jogged a bit behind him, ultimately letting go and watching Yuji ride around in a wide circle.

“Did you see me? Did you?” Coming to a shaky stop, Yuji leapt off his bike and grabbed onto Choso’s shirt, tugging on it.

“I did, you were awesome.” Scooping the young boy up, Choso gave him a big hug. Squirming out of his hold, Yuji picked up his bike again.

“Ride your skateboard with me!” Yuji didn’t wait for Choso to respond, already stumbling to a start on his bike. Tucking their things underneath a tree with a couple other people's belongings, Choso let his board clatter to the ground and stepped on it, pushing off and meeting up with Yuji in no time.

As they rode around, avoiding any big dips or curves, Choso let his eyes wander across the park. There were a fair few people here, a couple that he recognized doing tricks in the bowl and sitting on the sidelines. Later, when Yuji was tired from riding on his bike and he didn’t have to pay attention to him too much, Choso would do some tricks as well and see if he could do anything new.

“Look Yuji, another kid your age is here.” With a little mop of messy black hair, the scowling child had a tiny little skateboard in hand. His helmet was strapped to his backpack that no doubt carried all his protective gear as well.

“I know him, he’s a new kid! He just joined last month.” Stopping slowly, Yuji stared quite obviously at the other boy. “His name is Megumi.”

“Why don’t you go over and ask if he wants to ride around with you?” Choso pushed Yuji towards the boy, finding himself intrigued with the adult that was following him. Riding over to the Megumi, Yuji leaned forward on his handlebars.

“Megumi?” He called out and the boy turned, his eyes widening upon seeing Yuji and Choso. “D’ya wanna ride together?” Megumi was silent, his lips forming a tight line on his face. Glancing at Choso, Megumi scrambled behind the person with him.

“Sorry, he’s a little shy.” You answered, trying to tug him off your pant leg. Smoothing a hand on his back, you leaned down to Megumi. “Is this a boy from your school?” Megumi nodded silently. “Do you want to ride around with him? I bet he’d let you hold onto his handlebars to balance.”

Megumi mumbled something indistinguishable to Choso, but apparently you heard it and understood. There was a quick back and forth and a rushed promise that you’d stay close by, and then Megumi was slowly tiptoeing out from behind you.

“Okay.” Clutching his board to his chest, Megumi looked at Choso and his own board.

“How long have you been skateboarding?” Choso asked, smiling at him. Megumi held up a five and you giggled.

“He’s been doing it for five months now.” Answering for him, you unclip his helmet and plop it on his head. “Show him your board, baby.” Flexing his little fingers, Megumi turned it around, showcasing the underside of the board.

“Cool!” Yuji gasped, stepping closer and pointing at the large wolf painted across the bottom.

“Thanks.” Megumi whispered, smiling softly despite himself.

“You wanna see mine?” Bending down so both boys could see clearly, Choso flipped his over. The deck was horribly scraped and scratched from grinding on metal and concrete and so were the trucks, but you could still make out the dragon design that was once there.

“That’s really cool.” Running his hand along the bottom, Megumi’s eyes gleamed with wonder.

“I can teach you some skating stuff later if you want.” Standing up straight, Choso flicked his eyes over to you. He really wanted you to accept the offer, he wanted an excuse to try and talk to you.

“Y-yes please!” Bouncing on his toes, Megumi looked over at you. “Can he, (Y/N)?”

“Of course!” Giving him a big thumbs up, you fished out his pads from his little backpack. “You have to put your gear on first though.”

Megumi rushed to put his gear on and in no time he and Yuji were riding around the flat parts of the park, both wobbly and slightly unsteady on their feet. Choso sat next to you on a bench and watched them, letting the sounds of the other park goers fill the silence between you.

“I never introduced myself! I’m (Y/N)!” The abruptness of your voice surprised him, but Choso was glad you broke the silence first because he was too nervous to. Waving and smiling at him, you didn’t seem to notice the blush beginning to coat Choso’s cheeks. “I’m Megumi’s older sibling, we just moved to the area not too long ago.”

“Oh uhm yeah, Yuji said that Megumi was a new student.” Nodding dumbly, Choso smiled nervously.

“Yuji is your brother's name?”

“Mhmm! And I’m Choso.” He quickly tacked on, almost forgetting to tell you his own name.

“It’s nice to meet you, Choso. I hope our brothers get along well.” Taking a look over at the two of them, you smiled. “Well actually, I don’t think I have to worry about that.” Pointing over to them, you and Choso shared a soft laugh at watching Megumi and Yuji chase each other around, their wheels lying forgotten on the grass.

“I’m not surprised, Yuji is really outgoing.” Choso had to bite back the stupid grin he had wanting to bubble to the surface. His little brother's ability to make friends with anyone was unexpectedly starting to pay off. If Yuji could make a good bond with Megumi, Choso had no doubt he’d be seeing the two of you again.

“Have you been skating long, Choso?” Your hand skims the edge of the board resting on his lap.

“I started when I was Yuji’s age.” He could remember clearly the very first time he rode a skateboard and the first time he fell off it too. “Do you skate or anything, (Y/N)?”

“I could never!” Rubbing the back of your neck, you laugh, feeling embarrassment come over you at your next words. “I tried to ride Megumi’s little skateboard one time and fell right on my face!”

“Ouch, really?” Laughing a little as well, Choso fiddled with the wheels. “If you want, I can teach you too. It’s not that hard, you just have to balance a little and-”

“(Y/N)!” A sharp wail cut Choso off and you both looked over to where it came from. Clutching his knee, Megumi had tripped and fallen over a ramp. Walking over swiftly, it was a relief to see only a few drops of blood on Megumi’s knee.

“It’s okay, it’s just a little scrape.” Running your hands through his unruly hair, you pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Do you want a bandaid?”

“I have one!” Yuji shot up, running past Choso and grabbing his backpack. He had a handful of bandaids and laid them in Megumi’s lap. “I have spiderman and hello kitty!” Picking up a sparkly one with strawberries, he held it out to you. “This one’s my favorite!”

“Thanks.” Meguim’s voice wavered slightly and he sniffled a little, but he took the bandaid out of Yuji’s hand and gave it to you to put on him.

“Okay, you’re all better. Go play some more.” A few minutes later Megumi was back on his feet, making sure to stay away from the big structures sticking out of the ground. Sticking around a few seconds longer, you exhaled sharply and turned to Choso.

“So, what was that about teaching me how to skate?”

Choso had never been happier about his decision to come out to the park today. While he loved spending time with his little brother, more than anything else in the world, getting to know you was something that was beginning to rival it.

With his helmet slapped on your head, you looked adorably scared to step on his board. Choosing a corner where no one would skate by, you gripped a concrete column tightly and put a tentative foot on the board.

“I’m scared.” You whined, glancing up at Choso and then back down to your foot.

“Let go of that thing, put more of your weight on the board.” He beckoned you closer, holding out both hands for you to take. Pressing your foot more firmly, you slowly inched your way off the column.

“Oh shit!” Just as you were going to take your other foot off the ground, the board began to slide underneath you. Flailing your arms, you jumped off and a few feet away. “I almost died!”

“It’s okay!” Choso laughed at your dramatics, stopping the board before it could slide too far away. “Take my hand and step on again.”

“You better not let me fall!” Pointing threateningly at him, you took a deep breath and put your foot back on. Bypassing his hand, you gripped his shoulder tightly and shuffled both feet on.

“Bend your knees a little.” Choso’s hand was hovering near your waist. He wasn’t sure if he should grab it or not to help you balance, but you quickly made that decision for him by nearly falling as you leaned too far forward.

“Choso!”

“I got you!” Saving you from certain death, Choso hugged you close to him, putting his foot in front of the wheels to stop it from sliding back and forth. Your fingers were clutching his t-shirt tightly, leaving deep wrinkles in the fabric.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Shaking your head, you forced yourself to stand up straight.

“You haven’t even pushed off yet.” Keeping his hand on your back, Choso let you squeeze the life out of his other hand.

“I don’t know if I want to, you saw me almost die just now.”

“Emphasis on almost.” He chuckled when you swatted at his chest. “Just try it once and then you can say you did it.”

“If I break a leg my mom will be pissed.”

“Don’t break a leg then and you’ll be fine.”

“Shut up.” Giggling at his comment, you squared your shoulders and looked forward. “Okay, I’m going.”

Choso talked you through pushing off, telling you where to put your foot and how to balance on the board while you pressed against the ground. He pulled you along as well, trying to help build up enough speed.

“You’re doing it!” He shouted, trying to let go of you as you started to cruise. You laughed loudly and breathlessly, heart pounding in your ears and legs shaking terribly as you fought to control your body.

“I-I am!” Letting go of Choso’s hand, you slid up to grip his arm. The tiny breaks in the cement were nothing, barely making a dent as you rode over them. What did make a dent, however, was when Choso fully stepped away from you right as the wheels met resistance on a big crack in the ground.

Luckily there was grass in front of you that you could fall into, and you did so with a loud shout accompanying it. With your hands outstretched to break your fall, your knees met the dirt hard and the whole ordeal knocked the wind out of you.

“You okay?” Choso was hunched over you, eyes wide as he knelt down beside you. Taking a moment to roll over and catch your breath, you sat up on your elbow only to be knocked down by Megumi tumbling into you.

“(Y/N)!” Wrapping his arms around your neck, he smooshed his cheek against yours. “You fell!” Nodding at the obvious statement, you wheezed as he squeezed you a bit harder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, baby.” Blinking hard as you tried to reorientate yourself, you saw Yuji with his bandaids out.

“Do you need one?” Holding up a large yellow one, he looked you over with the seriousness of a doctor.

“No Yuji, I’m good, not bleeding anywhere.” Patting Megumi’s back, you sat up straighter and eventually made your way back on your feet. “But I think I’m good for now on learning how to skateboard.” Brushing the dirt off your clothes, you glared at the crack you had tripped over.

“That’s fair.” Choso nodded, taking his helmet back from you.

“Don’t get hurt again.” Megumi chided, patting the parts of your body he could reach.

“Promise I won’t.” Hooking your pinky with his, you shook your hands together.”

“Hey Megumi, do you want to skateboard with me?” The question from Choso made Megumi immediately turn away from you, forgetting all about his fallen sibling and nodding so hard he almost fell over.

“Yes!” Megumi ran to grab his things, rushing to put his gear back on and meet Choso at a small ramp. You and Yuji trailed behind, choosing another ramp close by to play with. Yuji had gotten more familiar with his bike, only needing help stopping and staying balanced at times.

“(Y/N), do you and Megumi live close to the park?” He asked, doing circles around you.

“Mhmm, we do.”

“We live close too!” Yuji gasped, taking a second to look at you before going back to his task. “We come all the time, you should come too. And bring Megumi.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be coming by a lot.” You snorted, looking up to see Megumi going down a tiny ramp with Choso right beside him. Megumi was utterly enamored with the older man, completely focused on what he was saying and doing.

Hours passed of the four of you playing together in the park. Megumi showed off his ability to go down a ramp without falling many times, and he and Yuji raced on their respective wheels from one end of the park to the other. You also ate lunch together, Choso chatting you up when he could and ignoring the tingle of nervousness at the back of his mind.

“Ice cream!” As the sun began to set and the clouds were dyed a pastel orange, the shout from another kid alerted Yuji and Megumi, and the distinctive melody of the ice cream man flowed through the air.

“Choso!”

“(Y/N)!” Both boys gasped, looking between you with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I’ll buy.” Choso already had his wallet out and was getting up from the spot in the grass you’d chosen to take up residence in.

“Are you su-”

“Yay!” Jumping up as well, Yuji and Megumi ran to get in line for ice cream.

“Be back in a sec.” Choso didn’t give you the chance to argue about who would pay, already walking over to join them. In just a few minutes time, they were back with big smiles on their faces.

“Look, we got the same one!” Yuji announced to you, holding up the spongebob ice cream he and Megumi both got. “It’s got gum for eyes.”

“Here, we got you one too.” Choso handed you a frozen treat, munching on his own. “Megumi said you liked ice cream sandwiches.”

“You didn’t have to.” Taking a bite, a delightful shiver went up your spine as the treat came in contact with your teeth.

“I wanted to.” He shrugged, eating his ice cream quickly and crumpling up the wrapper. Choso was itching to skate a bit, try some new tricks and potentially show off to you, and now was a good time: there weren’t as many people left at the skatepark, most tired out from a full day and going home.

“I’m gonna skate around a bit.” He announced after gathering up the courage. Picking his board up, Choso made a point to put his helmet on. He wanted to set a good example for Yuji and Megumi and cracking his skull open on the concrete wasn’t the way to achieve that.

“You guys have to watch! Choso is really good at skateboarding!” Yuji was the best wingman Choso could ask for and he didn’t even have to tell him to do anything. Moving closer to the bowl, as you sat down on a bench, both Yuji and Megumi cuddled into your sides.

Choso started off slow, cruising and going over smooth inclines. He’d done many dangerous stunts before in front of a lot of different people, but having you here was making him a bit timid and as he did a kickflip he could only hope you found it exciting.

He refused to look at you as he did a few tricks, grinding down a handrail and popping his board up. A few times he fell or stumbled off and an embarrassed blush overtook his face, contrary to how he would normally brush off any mistakes he made.

“Choso go down there!” Yuji shouted, pointing at the large bowl encompassing the middle of the park.

“Okay!” He yelled back, riding over to it and dropping in with no hesitation. There wasn’t anyone else in with him, so he had full range to do whatever he wanted. Going as fast as he could, his shirt clung to his body from the force of the wind passing by.

“Woah!” Megumi shouted, lurching forward to see Choso carving across a curve and popping up, flipping his board in the air a few times before landing back down and skating away. “(Y/N) did you see that?!”

“I did.” As impressed as you were by the trick, Megumi was ten times that. Every single move, Megumi was inch further and further off the bench until he was right at the edge of the bowl and bouncing up and down in excitement.

“C’mere.” Hopping out, Choso lifted Megumi under his armpits and put him on the board. Setting his feet around Megumi, Choso dropped back in, holding the boy around his waist as they pumped up and over curves. Megumi let out happy squeals as they rode up ramps and along the railing of the bowl.

After both Yuji and Megumi had a chance to ride in the bowl with Choso, they were properly exhausted. Flopping onto you once more, they were almost too tired to watch Choso finish his run.

When it was time to leave, Choso was pleasantly surprised to learn that you lived in the same direction as him, getting the chance to walk you home.

“So uh, what’d you think?” He asked as you headed out of the park, Yuji half asleep in his arms. “Of my skating.”

“It was really cool.” You flashed him a smile, your own little brother walking slowly next to you. “And I know Megumi loved it too.”

“Awesome.” Letting out a quick sigh of relief, Choso rushed out his next words. “I should give you my number so our brothers can hang out again.”

“Totally! Yuji was saying earlier that he wanted me to bring Megumi back to the park.” Choso would seriously have to thank Yuji later. He quickly got your number, already trying to cook up a reason to text you that wasn’t related to his brother.

“You live here?” Coming upon your house, Choso’s brows rose. “We live just down the street, at the end of the block.” It makes sense now why there were moving vans here just a few weeks ago.

“Guess that makes us neighbors, huh?” Ruffling Megumi’s hair, you gestured to Choso. “Say goodbye, baby.”

“Bye Choso, bye Yuji.” Megumi waved, already shuffling toward the front door. Yuji barely waved back, snuggling closer into Choso’s shoulder.

“I’ll text you later, okay? Maybe we can get frozen yogurt or something?” You said, beginning to slide your feet across the pavement after Megumi. Choso was probably just projecting his own emotions but he could have sworn you looked a little nervous asking.

“That’d be awesome.” A light blush dusted his cheeks and he nodded like a fool. “I’m free whenever.”

“See you later.” Giving one last final wave, you closed the door behind you, leaving Choso on the sidewalk. Turning abruptly, he walked down to his house, keeping his head down to avoid anyone seeing the large, uninhibited smile on his cheeks. He was really happy he went to the park today.

#jujutsu kaisen #choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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ragingpancake · 4 years ago

Text

Performance Fleece (Ooh It's Fine)

AN: In which John is sick and a thief and Rodney doesn't actually mind. There’s not a lot that escapes Rodney’s notice. Okay, scratch that. There is often a lot that escapes Rodney’s notice, mostly just because he’s too busy saving their asses and generally just being brilliant, but. When it comes to John Sheppard, Rodney’s pretty sure he’s even got the man’s bathroom schedule memorized. It’s not weird, okay? They’re teammates! Buddies! Compadres! Plus, you know, there’s the little matter of the massive crush that Rodney’s been harboring since, oh, probably the moment that Sheppard plopped his un-initiated ass down in the control chair back on Earth and showed Rodney where they were in the solar system. Anyway. Off topic. They’ve gathered in the meeting room for their latest mission debriefing, the one that John had requested to postpone, after returning from M4-X465, or, the planet that never stops fucking raining. So anyway, they’ve gathered, all of them except John and frankly, Rodney finds it a little unfair that they have to sit through re-hashing everything from the latest mission, down to the time he whipped it out and peed on a tree, when Sheppard gets to skip out. And then (and this is where Rodney’s attentiveness to Sheppard’s usual habits come in handy), he realizes that John has never actually skipped debriefing, no matter how many times he’s threatened. “Where’s Sheppard?” He asks and he mentally gives himself a high five for how disinterested he sounds. “He’s not feeling well,” Elizabeth answers like that shouldn’t be concerning in some way, shape or form, because Sheppard doesn’t do sick and even when he does, it doesn’t keep him from handling his duties while suffering in manly silence.

“So he’s just not going to show up?” Elizabeth lowers the tablet and glances at Rodney with a raised eyebrow. “It was my call,” she says. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d really like to get started.” Rodney tunes her out after that. -- He spends the next forty five minutes catastrophizing the situation. He analyzes it, tries to figure out exactly what had been meant by “not feeling well”. Was this turning into a bug not feeling well? Harboring an alien consciousness again not feeling well? So many horrors, so little time. When that doesn’t work, he switches to hacking into the camera system and pulling up the one specifically in John’s quarters but that doesn’t get him anywhere either because at least that very moment, John is nowhere to be found. Huh. Elizabeth finally finishes up and while Ronon is usually the first one to the door, this time, Rodney beats him by a solid five seconds, shouting over his shoulder about some made up situation in the lab. Totally, completely disinterested. He also completely misses the look shared by the others in his haste. -- To his credit, he does actually go in the direction of the labs, but only because that’s the quickest way to John’s quarters. He also manages not to just barge into John’s room (thanks to the almost disastrous towel incident, but Rodney is resolutely not thinking about that in this moment, no sir, no way). Instead, he stops outside of the door and bangs on it, a little more insistently than usual. It takes a second longer than he would like and so, fearing that perhaps John had maybe slipped and fallen, perhaps brained himself on that stupid old guitar, he palms the door open and--. What the hell is that? For a second, he doesn’t even recognize it, because how long has it been since he’s last seen it? He blinks, checks to make sure he’s actually in the right room and then allows his gaze to resettle on that that god awful orange fleece, the one he’d sworn that he’d burn once he was off of that frozen rock. The one that is currently wrapped around a very miserable looking Lieutenant Colonel, who glances up at him with a look that almost dares Rodney to say something. “… id was cold.” “You’re a thief,” Rodney says in response and he steps further in the room, letting the door slide closed behind him. “Where did you even find that thing?” “I wend down to the lab for sob of dat tea you hoard from the maidlad a’d found it id your bottom drawer.” Huh. So that’s where he’d put it. “Well,” Rodney says charitably, “whatever helps, I guess.” “Thags, Rodney,” John says and when he sneezes, it’s the second most god awful thing Rodney’s ever heard, second only to John’s braying donkey laugh, and by ‘god awful’, clearly he means, you know, acceptable because it’s John fucking Sheppard and well… anyway. “I suppose I should leave you to it,” he says finally and he gestures a little dumbly to the door. “You know, leave you to your bed of germs and, and, and--.” “You dond have to go if you dond want to,” John says and Rodney really, reallyshould not stay because first of all, as he’d mentioned, germs and secondly… Well, Rodney’s a hard time finding a second point, mostly because he wantsto stay. “I suppose I could, for a bit,” Rodney says airily, “if only to make sure you don’t slip out of bed and die. Or at least to ensure that my fleece finds its way back to where it belongs when you’re done. Completelywashed and disinfected, of course. “Ob course,” John agrees, like maybe he’s just humoring Rodney at this point. “…I’m never getting that fleece back again, am I?” “Nod a chance, buddy.” Well, truthfully, Rodney supposes he doesn’t mind. After all, there are two positives here: a.) to be completely fair, the fleece looks better on Sheppard anyway and it’ll save him the trouble carrying out his self-made promise to burn it. And b.)… well, Rodney’s never seen Sheppard wear anyone else’s clothes. It gives him something to think on, at least. Perhaps… Well, perhaps this one sided crush is not quite so one sided

after all… Huh. Who woulda thought?

#fandom: sga #sga fic #stargate atlantis #sga #mcshep #pre-mcshep #rodney's orange fleece #rodney mckay #john sheppard

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withoneheadlight · 5 years ago

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oh man that one with billy convincing steve to skip work has got me thinking trophy husband billy

Oh, anon! 💗💗💗💗adkahdshdhdkhkhdYESSS. I LOVE this idea!

And I’m SURE he would be the happiest trophy husband. And also the kind that's showy. Has so much fun going over the top with it, being gossip material. All cliché-y, and Diva-like. Basically confirming what everyone thinks about him (about them) precisely because it’s the diametrically opposed to what it really is.

Doing things like:

Mowing the lawn in mini-mini-shorts. Working on his tan on their lovely backyard on the sunny Sunday Summer mornings (in that exact spot where –coincidentally– Mr. Walker, their blatantly homophobic next door neighbor, would have to get out of his own backyard with his eyes closed not to see). Being reaaaally polite with everyone around (Mr. Walker included), smiling and waving his hand like “Hiiii, Janice! How did that new face treatment go?” because they live in a Nice Place now, six years after Robert Harrington made Steve climb his way up the company ladder right from the bottom “Exactly like everyone else”, both as a punishment and a trial; after working their asses out of their shitty one-bedroom apartment, having to prove themselves in every single step (as Steve and Billy, but also as SteveandBilly), but,

Here they are.

And now Steve has a very good job, one he’s genuinely good at, one that pays for much more than hardly the bills and maybe having dinner out from time to time. And they’re happy and they are together and they fucking made it, despite barely anyone around them given two shits. Now, Steve slicks his wild hair back from Monday to Friday, wears the nicest suits, so fitting and sexy and oh so preppy Billy sometimes gets a hard-on just from seeing them all together in the dressing room, hanging in a perfectly tidy line, made of the same material of sins.

So.

He just doesn’t see the point in not treating himself every once in a while. Make Steve run late for work or not getting there at all. In no letting himself enjoy the way those tailored beauties emphasize the shape of Steve’s glorious ass. Enjoy the certainty that in a big, stylish, impeccably neat office downtown, Steve’s dad is rolling his eyes all the way back into their sockets.

And also.

In not letting himself revel in the exhilarating feeling of sliding full into this ‘hot-mess trophy hubby’ persona almost everyone around them assumes he is. Steve’s Harrington boy-toy. “That California scum. Must be real good at sucking dick to get a deal like that.” Make the rumors roll down the small streets of Hawkins and under the door of his own father’s house. Thrive in the knowledge that every time Neil Hargrove hears any or those rumors or gets even the tiiiniest glimpse of them two together, going out and about holding hands, feels like he’s about to puke his guts out thinking about what his son has ‘become’.

And aside from that, he kind of––enjoys, this trophy husband thing, to be honest. It’s been ten years since they got together now. Billy likes to keep things spiced-up. So when Steve is promoted and they move to be close to the new office, along with the house Billy buys a pair of powder pink slippers, fluffy ball of floating fur on top, and a see-through, fur-riveted robe to match. Some days he goes to his morning cockteling&tanning session in the backyard wearing only that (“Heeeey! How ya doin’ Mr. Walker?”). Kisses Steve goodbye long and filthy at the door, where everyone can see, opening the robe wide to wrap it around them both together, pressing their bodies flush, biting at his ear and whispering “Bring me a diamond when you come back, honey bunny” making Steve snort but say "You deserve a million of them, babe" making Billy melt, feel a bit like he's dripping love out of all the pores of his body, making a puddle that will permanently stain the glamorous white marble of the entryway as he waves Steve goodbye, scratches with feign indifference at the trail of fair hairs coming out his flashy-green pants to counteract the way Steve's killer smile makes him blush as hard as the first time, a whole decade away, that cold November night when he grabbed Billy by the collar of his T-shirt and said "I'm gonna kiss you. And then you're gonna punch me. And I don't care.”

It’s like a fucking fairytale. The way things were going? The most Billy expected out of life was live if fast, die young, leave a beautiful corpse behind. But now, he’s got the guy of his dreams. He’s got a life he could have never dreamed of. He’s got Steve, now. Steve, who’s good, is caring. Always fights him back. Doesn’t buy any of the shit he tries to pull off. Steve, who's got lips like that moment the earth forgets about gravity when you’re riding down the hill of a rollercoaster. Got eyes that can rip out of you promises you never thought you'd make (like: I do and forever and not even death). That always see Billy when they look at him.

And now, he gets to wake up every morning before he does, put the Moka pot on the stove. Gets to see Steve’s sleepy face right after rolling out of bed, hair still untamed, pouty lips, bare feet dragging over the floor. See the way he beams, smile wide and devastatingly sweet when Billy tells him “I made you coffee, babe”. Gets Steve kissing him like a daydream, laying him over the kitchen table, fucking him before even touching breakfast with his fancy pink robe on.

And Billy thought he would have to change. Give something, to have something. Didn’t really mind. Too lucky to complain. Thought he would have to stop being mean once they got married. Play the tamed part. Thought he was going to have to behave to fit into the rich and respectable life they had landed at. But. No-No. Rich people? They’re way meaner than regular people, turns out. Billy’s just been upgraded to play for the Asshole’s World Championship Cup.

And he’s always been good at sports.

So he goes to the hair salon the afternoon before any important event. Gets a facial. Does his nails. Buys new clothes. Gets all Pretty Woman on himself just so Steve can show him off. And oh. OH. OHHH. Steve does show him off. To his dad. His mom. The whole party. Doesn’t give a fuck about whatever people keeps on whispering behind their backs. Offers his arm to Billy and Billy clings to him, keeps his chin up. He’s never been as afraid of anything as much as Steve not loving him back. He’s fearless now. Because here they are. So he lets Steve walk him through the crowd as the King he was born like. Brilliant. Proud. Letting Billy to deal with the vultures if he fancies to do that.

“Awwww. But look at you!! Anyone can tell you two are soooo in love!”

Fake boobs. Fake Louboutins. Fake Smile. Billy is Queen Bee now. He’s got this.

“Oh, no Miss Treadaway. I dearly appreciate you noticing how good my acting skills are. But it’s exactly as you said to Miss Walton the other day. I only married Stevie here because he’s got a big dick and it’s loaded. And he only married me because of how good I look on all fours. You’re too perceptive to hide it!”

But with Steve’s parents? With Steve’s parents Billy is relentlessly n i c e. When Robert Harrington won’t even look at him. When Crystal Harrington blows saccharine all over him like in a bad magic trick, deceivingly sweet when she says, “Well William. Maybe it's time you get a real job too now our Steven is running his own branch" cold war buzzing between them when Billy spreads his most honest, open smile, not a millimeter of animadversion showing “But I already have a real job, Crystal. I take care of your son. And there’s also, you know, that side thing I do of running Garage” making her fingers clutch hard around her cup of fine champagne, making Steve’s lips fight to repress a grin, eyes fond, and soft and in love. And Billy will do whatever it takes, endure whatever he has to, if what he gets in return is this: the way the narrow space keeping them apart feels like inevitability when they're about to kiss.

And everyone thought he was going after the money, when they married. Most still do. But Billy never actually asked for diamonds. Well, not for real. But he gets one anyway. Tenth anniversary and counting. It shines unreal on his finger, as much as this life he has now, as the liquid shine of Steve’s eyes when he says “They come from fire, just like you. I always thought they would fit so well. And looks like I was right” and just a few years before, Billy would have said “This is too much, I can’t take it” too afraid Steve would get the wrong impression too, too afraid to not be up to him. But now, he understands, that this is just another way Steve is trying to take care of him, to show him love. So now, Billy lets Steve spoil him as much as he wants. Take him out for dinner without reason. Hand him a sealed envelope saying, “What about showing me that ocean you love so much?” Kissing him in front of everyone, all the time, ringed fingers intertwined.

Lets him buy them a California King just to make a stupid joke, get Billy Hargrove to blush.

“We can ditch all of this, if you’re not happy. You know that, right? I don’t care about anything else as long as it’s you and I”

Billy shakes his head. “I am happy, pretty boy. Happier than I ever thought I could be” Tickles Steve’s nose with the fluffy, pink fuzz all around his robe until he sneezes and chuckles. “But I wanna know,” he says, tone pouty and tragic “It is true, what everybody says? Am I really a trophy husband?”

Steve shuffles closer, rumbles low in his throat. It’s an early Sunday morning. They’re gonna spend all time left until breakfast fucking in bed. Then cockteling&tanning together ‘till lunch. And then, after, he’s sure he can convince Steve to put on one of those gorgeous suits, let Billy grind against the soft fabric, make a mess out of him. Make him beg and squirm. Pull down his fly real slow, down on his knees. Suck him off. Eat him out. Make him moan I love yous brighter than diamonds when Billy gets inside him. But right now, Steve just kisses him silly, lowers down the covers to take a look down, at his leopard print, see-through, hideous new briefs. The cheapest ones he could find.

Because Billy’s trash. Will always be trash.

“Oh yeah, babe. You are. A fucking trophy. The best anyone could have”

But he’s posh trash now.

💎

The original post (xxxx) xD 💍

#harringrove #Steve Harrington #Billy hargrove #Billy x Steve #xask #askfic #xharringrove #the harrington-hargrove household #xaskwithoneheadlight #xfluff #xpronight

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cruisinwritealong · 4 years ago

Text

R/S CandyHearts Challenge

Thank you @goodboylupin for this wonderful challenge! I had so much fun thinking this through. I hope you enjoy it! ♥♥♥

Thanks to @starstruck4moony and @kattlupin for the beta 😘

Remus hauls his backpack strap back up his shoulder with a frustrated groan, tightens his scarf around his neck, and then shoves his mittened hand back into his coat pocket. The bitingly cold wind blows hard and he hunches his shoulders against it.

AAah-choo!

Shit, he feels like death. His throat is on fire and all his joints ache. His nose is raw and red, his eyes are puffy and heavy, and all he can think about is the warm blankets draped over his comfy sofa that he crawled out of this morning to trudge across the freezing campus to this fucking final.

Last. One.

He just has to get through this exam. One last final exam and then he’s free to sleep for the rest of his life...or until next term but still. If he was feeling well he’d be all but skipping to class. He knows this material backward and forwards. But his head is swimming and he keeps on snee- sneez-

Ah-CHOO!

Uuuuugh.

He just has to get there, regurgitate it onto the page, hand it in, and then he can go home. He can do this.

The snow crunches under his boots as he trudges along, forcing his feet to move one in front of the other towards his building. He’s probably sick enough to call in, but this test is with Professor McGonnagal and she only accepts death as an excuse to miss her class so she’ll definitely fail his exam if he doesn’t show and then he’ll fail the class and he could lose his scholarship and have to drop out. Then he’ll never get a job and end up on the streets and then people will look at him with pity in their eyes and hopefully toss him a coin and—oh, the coffee shop.

Tea.

Fuck yes. A huge ass cup of tea will get him through this. That’s exactly what he needs...aaaaand if he gets the chance to see Sirius Black real quick well, that’s always good medicine—even if he doesn’t know that Remus exists.

Sirius Black has only said six words to Remus in his whole life—“Would you like a honey bun?” And Remus had stared at him for an alarmingly long time just thinking to himself, “As long as it’s you,” but then Sirius looked confused and all Remus’ blood rushed to his face and he only mumbled a quick no thank you, grabbed his tea, and ran. Sigh.

That was exactly 5 weeks and 3 days ago, not that Remus is counting. Or going to the coffee shop on the daily to see if he’s working. Or ordering a honey bun almost every time. Or dreaming about calling Sirius his honey bun or—

Cough Cough COUGH

Ouch.

On second thought, maybe a coughing, snotting, feverish mess isn’t his best look. But fuck it’s freezing and he needs that tea. What time is it? Yes, he’s got plenty of time to duck in, warm-up, and make it to class.

As soon as he’s inside the shop he pulls off his mittens, loosens his scarf, and unzips his coat a bit, all while stomping the snow off his boots before walking further in. The heat from the cozy little coffee shop defrosts his bones and hugs his aching muscles and it feels so nice that Remus moans out loud before he can stop himself. He hears a throat clearing from behind him.

Shit.

“Come on in, I got the heater cranked nice and toasty just for you.”

When he looks up, none other than Sirius Black himself is standing there in all his glorious perfection. How he can even make a barista apron look sexy is beyond Remus’ comprehension and really, really unfair.

Everything about Sirius Black is simply gorgeous. Every inch of him, down to the last detail just does it for Remus. The wisps of hair that fall around his temples, the silky look of his longer raven hair, the piercing, unique silver-blue of his eyes outlined by the curving, eloquent lashes. Remus could and has written poems and pages about just his face. Not to mention his sharp, stubbled jawline and pouty rose colored lips. And then there’s the strong, wide shoulders and strong, toned arms, and long fucking legs and that goddamn body and OK Lupin focus! He’s talking to you!!

“Umb, h-hi. It’s really cold.” Remus internally cringes at his horse and stuffy sounding voice and lack of intelligent conversation and when he looks to Sirius’ face he sees his easy smile falter a bit.

“Hey, are you ok? Don’t take this the wrong way please but, you look miserable.”

“Oh. Yeah,” he tries to laugh it off, “I habe a co—a col—AH-CHOO!” He lowers his handkerchief, “A cold. Sorry aboud that. I—”

“Remus, you should be home in bed. What are you doing out?”

“Well I juss needed some tea before my final. Trust me, I’d much radder be in bed—wait. You know my nabe? How do you know my nabe?”

“Oh, um,” Sirius’ laugh sounds forced and almost embarrassed. He scratches the back of his neck. “The red head you come in with sometimes is sort of hating, sort of dating my best friend. So...I um, I asked her who her cute friend was.” He swallows hard.

Remus has forgotten how to have a coherent thought and just stands there in silence with his jaw dropped open a bit. He blinks.

“Buuut I’ll just get you that tea,” Sirius spins away on his heel, completely misinterpreting Remus’ silence. “Still on a cinnamon kick? I can make you your usual. Or I could make you something herbal with some ginger. I hear that helps with a cold. But I’m sure you know what’s best.” Sirius talks rapidly as he walks behind the counter and fusses with the equipment.

Remus realizes Sirius is trying to fill the silence and quickly move on from what he just said. Because Remus is still gaping at him with his mouth open and still hasn’t said anything because motherFucker he thinks I’m cute! Cute. I’m cute. Cute friend? Oh, that’s me. Nice to meet you.

All he’s ever said to me is “honey bun” and now he knows my fucking name and I’m the cute friend and am I awake? Maybe I’m still on the sofa at home? I must be asleep because he knows my fucking name. He said… shit breathe. I have to breathe. I have to breathe and I have to talk!

“Honey bund,” blurts out of Remus’ stupid, traitorous mouth. Fucking hell.

Sirius stops the frantic tea making and lifts an eyebrow in confusion, “Honey bun?”

“I mean... I didn’t dow you dew my namb. And you asked me if I wanted a honey bund. Before. When I came in before, but that’s it.” Remus scrunches his face and tries again. “Sorry, I took bedication and I think it’s eating my brain. You said …I’m cute?”

A smile unfolds on Sirius’ face and it is like sun rays breaking through the clouds. It is breathtaking and Remus can only stand there and bask in him. Without conscious thought the corner of Remus’ mouth pulls up a bit too.

“You’re sweeter than a honey bun. And very cute.”

“I...No that’s...You—Ah-Choo!”

“You’re also pretty sick. And as much as I want you to stay, I’m thinking you should probably be resting, yeah?”

“You’re sweet doo.” Remus smiles. “Um. I have to go take this stupid test and then sleep for a few days but...um, could we maybe, um—”

“Yes.”

They both laugh and smile at each other.

“I’d love to go out with you Remus. As soon as you feel up to it of course.”

“I’d really like that Sirius. May I habe—hab—Ah-Choo!”

Sirius frowns in sympathy. “Well I hope you can rest really soon. Here. It’s not actually tea, just um, just hot water with some cloves, lemon and ginger because my friend swears by this when she’s sick. I hope you like it. I can make something else, I just thought—”

Remus reaches out to take the cup but when his fingers wrap around the cup and Sirius’ fingers, he doesn’t let go. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

“Good. ...Good.”

After a moment Remus lets their fingers slide apart and wraps both his hands around the steaming cup. Now he’s warm for more than one reason.

“Oh,” Sirius says, “I um, I wrote my number on the cup. You can call me if you need more tea or anything. Soup even. Or a date. Whatever you need.”

Remus laughs. “Sounds good...I’b glad I stopped in.”

“Me too.”

“See you soon Siri—Siri—Ah-Choo! Uugh.” He does his best to smile back at Sirius while he bundles up again. “Bye Sirius.”

“Feel better, Remus.”

Sirius’ sweet caring face consumes his mind as he walks to his building, somehow not as cold as he was before. When he enters the classroom he nods hello to Lily and she waves him over to his saved seat. When he reaches his desk he sets down his tea, pulls off his mittens, scarf, and coat. Lily begins giggling to herself and Remus is very confused.

“What?” he asks her quietly. All she does is rotate his cup around so he can see the writing on the side and gives him a very knowing look.

438-9713

Feel better soon Honey Bun

xo SB

#RSCandyHearts #wolfstar #remus x sirius #marauders #wolfstar fluff #meet cute #rated t

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yikesharringrove · 4 years ago

Text

Me and my thots

Read on ao3

Billy didn’t black out when the first limb clamped onto his side.

He figured he would.

Figured the searing pain would cause his brain to short.

But it didn’t.

He didn’t even drop when the next one hit, chomping into his other side.

He figures the adrenaline was keeping him going.

And probably the other-worldly strength from whatever bits of the creature was left in him.

All he knows is that the final one pierced his chest.

And he didn’t lose consciousness.

Not as he fell.

Not as Max hovered over him.

Not as he heard shouts, and felt hands pressing into his wounds.

He woke with a start.

He shook the dream out of his head, rolling to press both fists into his eyes.

He slid out from under the thick duvet, pulling it up and over the sleeping form of the person next to him.

Like he did every morning.

He scratched his chest, making his way over to their sunny little kitchen, getting the coffee going.

It’s been a while since he’s dreamed about the Mind Flayer.

In his thirty years since that night at the mall, he’s gotten enough therapy to break most of it down, to accept what happened to him, what he was forced without question to do.

He startled as arms slipped around his waist.

“You okay?”

Steve’s voice was sleep groggy, his chin hooked over Billy’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Pretty Boy. I’m alright.”

Steve placed his hand over the faded scar on Billy’s chest, kissing his shoulder blade once.

Billy turned to look at him, taking in the sparse grey hairs Steve liked to complain about, the soft lines near his eyes.

Billy sucked in a gasp of air when he woke, spluttering as his lungs burned.

He was in the hospital, his heart monitor going haywire.

Nurses flooded the room, but Billy paid them no mind, his eyes locking on the big brown ones.

Steve had pushed himself against the wall, giving the nurses room to check him over.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since the mall, just knows hat Steve’s face looks hurt, old bruises turning yellow and green as they healed.

He was stabilized, and he felt more steady. His breathing still hurt, but he was doing it on his own.

The few nurses made their way out once again.

“Jesus, Hargrove. Scared me half to death.” Steve didn’t sound scared. He sounded relieved. “I was almost asleep and then you took this giant breath, Christ.”

Steve’s hands were shaking as he lowered himself into a plastic chair facing Billy’s bed.

“Sorry.”

Billy’s voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk.

“How long-?”

“A few weeks.” Then Steve’s face got hurt that same night.

It was odd looking at him.

He looked so young, not the face dream Billy was used to, the face of a grown man.

“Hargrove, you okay?”

And echo of that dream.

And boy did that hurt, the realization that it was a dream.

His idyllic life with Steve.

Nothing but his subconscious. Probably creating something to keep him calm while his body healed in a coma.

“Why you here?” Speaking still burned his throat. He wished he had some water.

Maybe even tea.

Steve usually makes him a nice chamomile tea when he’s sick. Puts some fresh lemon juice and honey in there. They have a lemon tea in the backyard.

He shook himself.

That was just a dream.

“Been worried about you, man.” Steve wasn’t looking at him.

Steve has trouble with eye contact.

Years spent with a father that forced it only to berate Steve for-

What the fuck. His daydream kept bleeding over, giving him all this nonsense about the dream version of Steve he had conjured up.

“Don’t know why.”

Steve looked at him then.

“Really pulled some shit, didn’t I?”

“That doesn’t mean you, you deserve to die, or something. You weren’t in control.”

“Was that night I beat your face in.”

Steve looked away again.

“Water under the bridge.”

Steve once told him he doesn’t know what that expression means, just that he’s heard people use it in situations like this.

“You don’t even know what that means.” Billy couldn’t stop himself.

He just blurted it out.

And Steve gave him a funny look.

Because of course he does. Because this Steve, this real Steve is different than the coma fantasy one Billy conjured up.

“Well, no. But people usually say it like that, don’t they?”

And Billy just stared at him.

And then his vision went hazy around the edges, and he slipped back into darkness.

“Which one?”

Steve was holding up two pairs of swim trunks. Billy was just staring at his ass.

“You know I like those little green ones.”

Steve threw him a look over his shoulder.

“I don’t think the green ones even fit anymore.”

Steve sometimes got self conscious about himself. His thighs had thickened up considerably, his ass getting plumper too. And his belly was soft, doughy, and perfect for squishing.

But the green shorts fit, even though they were tight.

And Billy loved his older body, loved when Steve put on some extra fluff. A chubby Steve meant a happy Steve. And Billy would know.

You learn a lot about a person in thirty-some years.

Steve was dressed now, shouldering a bag.

“Beach time?” His eyes were bright.

“Beach time.”

They held hands as they walked.

The air smelled like ocean spray.

The beach was close to their little house, and they found their usual spot right away, far from any other beach patrons.

“Hargrove!”

Billy came to with a start, back in the cold hospital room, back with a younger Steve.

What the fuck was going on?

“Sorry, you kinda passed out. I thought you were slipping back under, or something.”

Steve looked sheepish.

“It’s fine.”

It wasn’t. Not totally.

Because Billy wanted to live in that fucking daydream for the rest of his goddamn life.

“Sorry, I should let you sleep. I mean you’re probably exhausted.” Steve stood up, gathering the few things he had with him, a water bottle, and empty coffee cup, and a book. An old worn out copy of The Outsiders.

That’s dream Steve’s favorite book. He reads it once every year. He said it was the first book he ever read in class that actually gripped him. The only one he actually took the time to push through his rampant dyslexia to read and understand.

He won’t be diagnosed dyslexic until he’s 23. He’ll feel really vindicated and Billy will take him out for a fancy dinner. They’ll go skinny dipping in the ocean after and Steve will whine the whole time.

Billy hadn’t realized he had been staring at Steve the whole time that all ran through his brain, not until Steve snapped his fingers in front of him.

“Billy!”

“Yeah, what? Sorry.”

“Are you okay? Should I get a nurse?”

“No, I just-” he tried to scrub a hand down his face, found his muscles screamed out at the movement of his muscles after who knows how long in that bed.

It didn’t matter anyway, as his hands were wrapped up in a mitten of bandages.

“Was havin’ a good dream.”

“What was it about?”

Billy couldn’t look at Steve. Couldn’t look at those big brown eyes, couldn’t search for the specks of gold, the streaks of green that he knows are there.

“Future. Dream future, I guess.”

“Do you-” Steve hesitated, and Billy finally looked at him, watched as he reached up to tug on a lock of hair near the crown of his head. A nervous tick he’s had since he was a kid. “Do you wanna share?”

“California. Little house by the beach. Slice of Heaven, really.”

“A wife?”

“Been married for a few years.”

“She pretty?”

“The prettiest.”

Steve smiled at him softly.

“Sorry you had to wake up to me, then.”

And that? That made Billy wanna tear out his own damn hair. Made him wanna pull Steve to lay on top of him the way they both like, pet through Steve’s hair, tell him how goddamn perfect you are, Sugar.

“It’s okay. Prefer your company.”

“I guess I’m alright if the alternative is being alone.”

“Cut that out.”

Steve blinked at him.

“We’ve been talking like, five minutes and all you’ve done is apologize and talk shit on yourself.”

“Sorry, I- it’s just a habit, I guess.” He was back to playing with his hair. Being a little rougher, tugging on the lock between his fingers a bit. Billy sighed as well as he could with his burning lungs.

“Just, I like it that you’re here, okay? I’d tell you to beat it if I wanted you gone.”

And Steve smiled at him.

One of his six real smiles, not one of the eleven fake ones.

Billy can tell.

Because the real ones make his nose scrunch a bit. They make his eyes go bright and his shoulders bunch up.

And he must’ve fallen back into that dream again, because suddenly he was looking at his Steve, his grown up Steve, giving him that exact same real smile as Billy ran wet fingers over his skin.

And he pulled Steve close to him in the shower, mouthing at the skin of his neck.

And if this was a dream, he was going to burn all of this into his memory.

The way Steve’s skin tastes, the way he gasps when Billy nibbles at his ear. The way Billy feels buried deep inside him, in the soft bed that they share, the one that took months to buy because Steve is weirdly picky about bedframes for no discernible reason.

And just as he was watching Steve’s face crumple, as he was trying to memorize the exact noises he makes as he cums, he was jolted out of his dream by the real Steve, fucking sneezing.

“Sorry.” He looked distressed. “You were like, really asleep and I, I tried to hold it back.”

“’S okay. Know you got that dust thing.”

Billy was drowsy. He felt like he was inches underwater, everything moving slowly around him. Almost like the world was a little muffled.

Turns out his last dose of pain meds had been administered while he was out.

“Wait, what dust thing?”

“Got that. You know. You’re allergic to dust. And peanuts. And cashews. And-the green ones.”

“Pistachios?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know that?”

“You told me. Nearly fuckin’ killed you first time we really made out. I had just eaten a PB and J. Sent you into anaphylaxis.”

Billy felt himself drifting, that perfect dreamland tugging him back.

And then there was a cold hand on his arm, shaking him gently.

“Billy, Billy don’t fall asleep. You gotta, Billy what the fuck? We haven’t made out. We, how do you know what I’m allergic to?”

But Billy was swallowed up by sleep once again.

He was laying next to Steve, stretched out on their bed, Steve’s head resting on his shoulder.

“Today was nice. Haven’t had a day like that in such a long time.”

“We should do it more often, then. Call outta work and hang out at the beach all day.”

Steve rolled a bit to glare playfully at Billy.

“Some of us don’t have the luxury of setting our own hours, Mr. Boss Man.”

“Billy!”

And he was back, back to staring at the pale nervous face of Young Steve.

“Billy, you’re scaring me.”

Sunlight was beginning to haze through the meager window at the end of the hospital room. Billy hadn’t had any idea of time since he got here.

Steve looked like shit, like he hadn’t slept all night.

“Billy, I don’t know if you remember, everything you said before you fell asleep but-”

“I remember.”

Steve furrowed his brows.

“How do you know that? About, about my allergies. And yesterday, you said, you said I didn’t know what water under the bridge meant. And you said, that we m-made out.”

Billy sighed again, his lungs protesting the effort.

“My dream. The future. You’re the person. My person. And now it’s like, whatever Dream Billy knows about Dream Steve I know. And I figured I just, like, made all that shit up.”

Steve was studying his face.

“Okay, then let’s see if you’ve just had some lucky guesses. Tell me what else you know, and maybe it’s all wrong.”

And Billy didn’t really like the way Steve looked like he hoped is was all wrong. Like he didn’t wanna be tied to Billy in this way.

Billy narrowed his eyes.

“When you were fourteen you watched A Streetcar Named Desire with your mom and you credit Marlon Brando as your queer awakening.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, his mouth trembling.

“Your dad has smacked you once in your life, and it’s when you got the rejection letter from Indiana State. You hid the letter from him because you knew he’d be mad, but he found it and hit you and didn’t talk to you for nearly a month.”

Steve’s eyes were shining now.

“Your mom used to always talk about how much she wished you guys could have a better garden, but because it gets so cold here, she can’t grow anything. The house we have in the daydream has like, a huge fucking garden in it, by the way. I hate gardening but you love it.”

Steve stood abruptly, pacing the length of the room in front of Billy’s bed. Billy just kept going.

It was like everything was ready to burst out of him. To prove that he knows Steve, that he loves Steve. Even if this Steve is somehow different to Dream Steve.

“You go fucking batshit over corn on the cob, just with a little butter and salt on there. That’s somehow your favorite food. Because you’re the most Midwesterner to ever Midwestern, I guess. Your second favorite food is your grandmother’s lasagna. You keep trying to recreate her recipe and no matter how much I tell you it’s fucking delicious, you always get this little pout going and explain to me about how it’s not quite right. You only started smoking because-”

“That’s, I think that’s enough.”

Steve looked like a strong gust of wind would knock him right over.

“It true.?”

“It’s, it’s all true. In, in detail. I mean the, the letter, and my dad. I swore I was never gonna tell anyone about that.”

“It took you a few years. We were talking about my dad. How he treated me, and you admitted that. How sometimes you think about that one time and it makes you sad because that was my everyday-” Billy cut himself off.

Because fuck.

He forgot that Steve knows jack fucking all about Billy.

Which means Steve was currently giving him that look, that wide-eyed, nostrils flared, mouth tight look that he always did when he was angry on Billy’s behalf.

It was kinda hot.

“Excuse me?”

“Forgot my apparent psychic abilities were limited to just me knowing about you.”

“Billy, did your dad hit you?”

And Billy kinda saw no point in lying anymore.

“All the damn time.”

And Steve was back to pacing.

“Fuck. Fuck. That honestly, wow that explains a lot. I mean, yeah. I get it now. I get it.”

Billy let him mutter to himself.

Steve always does better thinking out loud.

“You know, I was actually fucking nervous to tell you, but now I don’t care. Your dad was one of the flayed.”

“Yeah, I know. Only person I never felt guilty about.”

“You’re handling this, like, scary well.”

“Technically, I’ve had thirty years of therapy. All this has been processed already.”

“Wait, your little dream is thirty years in the future?”

“About.”

“So we’re, like, fifty?”

“About.”

“How do I look?”

Billy barked a laugh, regretting it almost immediately as his whole body screamed in protest. He wheezed a few times before he felt like he could speak again.

“I think you’re hot, but you don’t handle aging well.”

“Oh, God. What’s the damage?”

“Not telling. You’re just gonna spend the next thirty years stressing more than you already would. But lemme tell you, first time you found a grey hair? That was the funniest day of my damn life. It was like being in a soap opera. You found it and then called our lawyer to begin drawing up a will. And you kept saying how you probably only have a few god years left in you. It was hilarious.”

“Glad to know you laugh at my pain.”

“It’s one grey hair. Plus you maintain good health, don’t worry. You’ve got plenty of time to whine over grey hairs.”

“At least I don’t go bald.”

“Nah. Full head of natural hair. Not even receding.”

Steve brushed a hand through his hair, dropping heavily back into the seat next to Billy’s bed.

“Man, this is too trippy. Like, from my end, we’re not even close, you know? But to you, we’ve been together for decades. That’s fucking wild.”

“Imagine how I feel. Am I some kind of psychic now, or is this all just fucking delusion?”

“I mean, you know too much shit about me for everything to be, like, a figment of your imagination. But what happens now? Like, if we don’t live out the future just like your daydream, is the world gonna fall apart? Or is that an alternate dimension? Like, if the Upside Down exists, there’s gotta be other worlds too. Is that one of them and maybe because you were infected by the Mind Flayer you have like, a link between both worlds?” Steve’s brows were furrowed, his eyes darting all over the ceiling as he thought out loud. “And, I mean, I’m confused. I don’t know what my feelings towards you are. Like, don’t get me wrong, there’s been interest since you showed up. But now you’re telling me in some reality, we’ve been together for thirty years, and obviously you know all this deep shit about me, so do we date? When you know me like the back of your hand and I barely know you at all? And are you technically fifty years old? Since you lived out that other life?”

Billy’s head was starting to hurt, and he felt tired again.

“Sugar, you think we could table this?”

Steve’s cheeks went red as his jaw clacked shut.

“Is that what you call me? Sugar?”

“Call you a lot ‘a stuff.”

“Uh, like, like what?”

“Sugar, Pretty Boy, Stevie, Baby, Sweet Thing, Honey. Mac n’ Steve comes to mind.” Steve smiled softly at the last one, his cheeks still warm. “Princess.” Steve opened his mouth, his brows furrowing, the blush spreading down his neck. “No sense in denying how much you like them. Those are tried and true. Thirty years of calling you all that. Plus a few others. But, you know. Those are mostly reserved for the bedroom.”

Steve’s eyes went huge again.

“Fuck. You probably know what I kinks I have better than I do.”

“Oh, we’ve done some exploring in our time.”

Steve bent forward to bury his face in his hands with an Oh, God.

“I don’t think I wanna know.”

“Trust me when I say, you enjoy most of it.”

“Oh, most. That’s great.”

“There’s some trial and error. But we’re good at laughing stuff off, you and me.”

And then Steve’s eyes went wide, and he sat up straight in his chair.

“Wait, you said. When I first asked about the dream, you said, you said married. We got-I mean, we can get married?”

“Yeah. And we like, make out in public and shit. Hold hands everywhere. We’re big saps.”

Steve took a shaky breath.

“So things get, they get better? For people like us?”

“Yeah, they do,” Billy kept his voice soft, felt like sharing this thread of hope should be kept intimate, quiet. And Steve’s face split into a wide grin.

“God, I can’t fucking wait. Just to be, not to be scared all the time. Of everyone finding out this big fucking secret. It just, is.” Steve huffed a laugh. “Can’t believe it. Two guys getting married. Was our wedding nice?”

“We had two. One in the courthouse, one with everybody.”

“Wow. I just can’t believe it-wait, who;s everybody?”

“Your gang of weirdos. Here.”

And Steve lips parted, and he made that cute little face he always does before he cries.

“They all come? Dustin and the Byers and everyone?”

“Robin officiates. Dustin cries really fuckin’ loudly.”

“And they’re all, they’re all fine with it?”

“Yep.”

“God. It’s all, you think it’s too good to be true?”

“Everything I know about you was right. Don’t see a reason why everything else would be wrong.”

“Then, where do we go from here? Like, do we try to follow your memories? Or, forge our own path? Will the fact that we know about this future automatically change it?”

Billy’s heart was doing something funny as Steve wondered aloud to himself about all this.

The fact that he was all in, dead set on having this happy future with Billy, when he didn’t even know Billy.

“Are you sure about this? If we do this? Or some form of it. I mean, I know fucking everything about you. And you don’t know me at all.”

“I know you well enough to see the good in you. I know you well enough to see that under all your big scary toughness you’re caring. And you’re kind. Although you’d probably rather be dead than admit it. And besides. If, in another reality, or in the future, or whatever, I pick you to spend my life with, obviously that means there’s something in you that makes me love you.”

Billy gawked at him.

His face was hot, no doubt bright fucking red.

Because, holy shit was that a lot.

And even Billy, used to Steve’s passionate little tangents after thirty dream-years worth, was taken aback by how quickly Steve was ready to jump into this.

And all of a sudden, Billy wanted nothing more than to reach out to Steve, to pull him close and kiss him until he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Harrington, I’m gonna need you to come kiss me right the fuck now.”

And Steve smiled, his most sunshiney happy smile, and the chair legs scraped along the tiled floor as he got up, sitting carefully on the edge of Billy’s bed.

He leaned over him, cupping Billy’s cheek in his hand, and pressing the softest of sugar kisses to his lips.

Billy let his eyes flutter closed, and he put one hand bandaged on Steve’s lap, wanting to grasp at him, to pull him even closer.

But Steve wrapped his other hand as gently as possible around the thick bandages, pulling away slowly, studying Billy’s face.

“I never asked. Is this always how our first kiss went?”

And Billy tried to search his memory, tried to find the sweet first kiss.”

“I-I don’t remember.”

Steve sat back.

“What?”

“Our first kiss, from the memories. I don’t remember. It’s like, when I think of our first kiss, all I can think of is that one just now. The other one is gone.”

An ache settled in Billy’s chest at the prospect, at losing a perfect memory with Steve. Losing their first kiss.

“So, when we do something, it like, replaces the old memory?”

“I guess.”

“So, we can build new ones then. And like, you won’t have to go through your whole life twice. We can start closer to square one. Memories that’ll be ours, and not ones that I don’t know.”

And that’s true.

For the pain of every memory gone is a brand new one, one that Steve would remember and be a part of too.

“Then I’m not telling you anymore. If we’re gonna build the memories together, we can’t be working off of some, some blueprint. Things need to be ours.”

“Agreed. We’ll make it up as we go.” Steve hadn’t stopped smiling at Billy.

“Is it weird I’m gonna kinda miss seeing you all old? You’re a silver fucking fox.”

“Yes, Bill. That’s fucking weird.” Steve took his hand and pressed a kiss on his bandages, right over where his palm will be. “Just means you’ll have to watch me go through it all again, though.”

“God, that’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Yeah? That get you going? The thought of me aging?”

“Nah, Pretty Boy. The thought of us aging together.”

“Wow. When you said we’re saps, you really meant it.”

Billy rolled his eyes, sighing as deeply as he could.

“Can it, Harrington. Or I’ll call the nurse and have you escorted out by security.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t. You’d miss me too much.” Steve pressed another kiss to his bandaged hand before sliding off the hospital bed, sitting back in this chair, scooting it as close as possible to the bed. He rested his elbows on the edge of Billy’s bed, and set his chin in his hands. “So, California, huh? When do we head out there?”

“Remember, like, twenty seconds ago when I said I wasn’t gonna say any more?”

Steve pushed his bottom lip out, making his eyes go big as he pouted at Billy.

“That doesn’t work on me anymore, Baby.” That was absolutely a lie. It worked on Billy nearly every time. But what’s he gonna do, reveal his weakness to Steve? Absolutely fucking not.

“C’mon, Bill. Just like, the year.”

“Nope. Not saying a damn thing.”

“Please?” Steve pouted some more.

“So odd to hear you begging outside of the bedroom.” Billy grinned with his tongue between his teeth as Steve dropped his little pouty face, his cheeks going red. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Steve rolled his eyes. Sailing right past pleading and into petulant.

“Fine. I’ll just rot here until you decide to whisk me away to California. Better make it soon or else I may just die of boredom.”

“Jesus, so fucking dramatic. Didn’t we say we’re gonna make our own memories and shit? You can very well ask me to run away with you.”

“Maybe we should like, go on a date first. So I know you’re not a serial killer before I get in a car with you and drive out of state.”

“You’re so weird.” Steve made a snarky face at him. “But you better be planning our first date. I don’t wanna accidentally repeat the other one. Want us to have our own.”

And Billy felt that overwhelming sense of sadness at losing the memories of the other date, the perfect timid experience. Going to the diner and ordering to go, eating while sitting on the hood of Steve’s car overlooking the quarry, talking for hours and hours.

But he’ll get a new memory. One he’ll cherish just as much, maybe even more, knowing that Steve will cherish the memory too.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll take out. Maybe just metaphorically speaking, as I don’t think you’re in any shape to be going out.”

“Ha ha, Shithead. Just make it nice. You’ve got a lot to live up to.”

Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he sighed dramatically.

“If our whole relationship is just you holding me to the impossibly high standard of alternate reality me, then I want out now.”

“Relax. The standard’s not that high.”

Steve made an indignant squawking sound.

Billy just laughed.

“I’m kidding. Just, you know. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble meeting the standard. I fell for you once. I can do it again.”

And Steve’s face went all soft again, and he curled forward to rest his head on Billy’s arm.

“Thirty years. Always thought I’d end up divorced. People tend to get sick of me.”

“Not me. Never got sick of you, never gonna get sick of you. You’re stuck with me.”

“Then you’re stuck with me too.”

#yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

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saphirered · 4 years ago

Note

Beau x Yasha X sorceress SO whose wild magic is seemingly getting out of hand. (Nothing disastrous but getting feather beards and kissing someone might not be the best. Nor is having a random unicorn try and mow you down)

I love Wild Magic Sorcerers. They’re one of my favourite subclasses. A few headcanons for certain effects and one short bit about one effect in particular. I hope you like it. ☺️

Your wild magic surges were something for sure and while there were plenty good effects there were also many bad ones. Not all bad effects were necessarily harmful to yourself or others but were mostly just an annoyance. Beau and Yasha had come to accept these surges from the moment they met you. They are apart of who you are and while they may wish some effects rather not happen or happened, they wouldn’t change you for the world.

While doing some recon one time you cast a detect magic. The side effect of doing so this time resulted in you being able to see any invisible creature within line of sight. And see someone you did. You were able to point this out to Beau who of course immediately took action. A soft punch to your shoulder quickly turned to her wrapping an arm around you complimenting your good work.

In a fight you had some pretty good offensive spells. An unlucky release of wild magic grew you nearly a foot within seconds making as tall if not taller than Yasha. While it was a bit of a change to adjust to none of you complained. If anything, Beau did kind of like the new dynamic of having two tall partners at her sides. She could still kick your ass regardless of height but that didn’t stop you from placing things just out of reach of her at times laughing as she had to all but run up walls to get it while you and Yasha could just reach.

The random bunch of Flumphs appearing and screeching as they ran away from you while the three of you were having some down time in the hot tub got a little bit annoying for all of you but Beau and Yasha assured you it was fine as you waited for the creatures to disappear.

A funny one if it hadn’t been the worst time for it to happen was you casting suggestion and the next thing coming out of your mouth were pink bubbles. Even Yasha had a hard time keeping it together for that one. She just wrapped an arm around you pulling you into her side as you wait out the effect begrudgingly. It took Fjord quite a bit to explain what happened there without revealing you casting a spell and those you were talking to did not take the sudden pink bubbles too well. They managed to smooth it out quickly luckily.

While shopping for some curiosities you cast a quick detect magic to see if you and Yasha could find something interesting as a gift for Beau. A unicorn appeared out of nowhere and if the store wasn’t already a mess, it was now thanks to the bull- well unicorn in a Hupperdook shop, literally. You managed to make yourself scarce but the unicorn followed you, sticking to your side like a lost puppy trying to get your attention. It kept munching on your hair, clothes and even wormed its way between you and Yasha, nudging her out of the way. Yasha of course asked if you wanted her to get rid of it and you debated taking her up on the offer, it would probably make it more difficult to deal with should another unicorn appear next time. While maybe slightly possessive and jealous, at least this unicorn didn’t try to run you over and attack you like the last one…

The random illusory flower petals and butterflies floating around you gave you the appearance of a creature straight from the Feywild. Yasha admired the floral patterns while Beau was practically drooling over how ethereal you looked. You had to snap her out of that one.

Mirror Image… that’s one’s been fun… No further comment… Nor would any of you ever mention that one to anyone else…

And the most recent one:

With the recent paranoia of being watched you resorted to casting see invisibly every once in a while to make sure you weren’t being watched. You prayed to all the gods you wild magic surges would be kept at bay but sadly the gods did not hear your prayers. A long brightly coloured feathery beard reached down to your knees. Now you’ve dealt with this one before. Getting rid of it was easy. You just had to sneeze. Yeah… Easier said than done…

Beau emptied out a pouch of pepper in her hand and blew it in your face. Your eyes teared up and you had to rinse the pepper from your face quickly but no sneezes.

Yasha tried to cast light, telling you she heard looking into the sun or a bright light made people sneeze? You tried over and over again and nothing happened.

Beau tried scaring you. You’re pretty sure that’s just supposed to work for hiccups. No effect.

Plucking a feather from your new beard didn’t work nor did trying to scratch your nose with it. Tickle attacks were to no avail either.

Strong perfume from Jester’s mom, tilting your head back, eating some dark chocolate (you have no idea how they got that), Caduceus’ spices, and even sniffing Nott’s dirty shoes didn’t work. Though the latter did almost make you faint from the smell.

“I give up. I guess I’m stuck like this until something makes me sneeze.” You sit with your head leaning against Yasha’s shoulder, Beau sprawled out across the two of you absentmindedly stroking the long soft feathers.

“We’ll find a solution. Don’t worry. We’ll get rid of the feathers.” Yasha tries to kiss you but the feathers are in the way too much so she instead kisses the top of your head. All of you are just exhausted.

“Caleb mentioned something about some dust he may be able to find that makes you sneeze uncontrollably. If all else fails we can resort to that.” Beau plays with the feathers with one hand while patting your thigh with the other. The three of you remain seated like this for a while to the point where you’re almost falling asleep. Beau’s already asleep and has cuddled up with the feathers using them as a pillow. You and Yasha agree nonverbally to just stay where you are and attempt to get some shut eye too.

You adjust your position a little bit to avoid your limbs getting numb. Beau adjusts too in her sleep and the feathers scratch her nose. She sniffs once, twice, trice and then sneezes a couple of times loudly. She accidentally pulls on the feathers and you feel the familiar tingly… You breathe in once, twice and sneeze! The feathers burst from around your face in a big cloud, like someone just exploded a large bird. You burst out in laughter, the feathers finally released from your face, interrupted only by more sneezes from you.

“Seriously! That’s what it takes?!” Beau exclaims with slight exasperation referring back to all the futile attempts made over the past hours.

The moment you stop sneezing and your breath returns to you, you give them both a quick thank you kiss as you brush off the feathers and make yourselves more comfortable after an exhausting day.

#critical role x reader #mighty nein x reader #beauregard x reader #yasha x reader #critrole x reader

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seagreen-meets-grey · 4 years ago

Text

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 18

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

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- Part 3 -

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Hiccup was roused from his sleep by something warm and wet darting over his face. It tickled and he felt a sneeze rising from the depths of his skull. With his eyes still closed, he scratched his nose, hand colliding with something thick – with very bad breath.

Grumbling, he buried his face into his pillow when that warm and wet sensation dragged all over his cheek again, a strangely familiar smell reaching his nose. Bewildered, he blinked one eye open, coming face to face with a panting dog. It was so close, he went cross-eyed when he properly looked at it, taking in the long tongue lolling out of its snout and reaching out to greet him again.

“Ew!” From one second to the other, he was wide awake, lifting his hands to shield his face from any incoming dog slobber. He was vaguely aware of the body stirring behind him, not yet awakened by the worst alarm clock in the world.

“Hookfang! Come over here, now!”

Hiccup propped himself up on one elbow, the cool air of his bedroom caressing his skin as the blanket exposed his torso. Snotlout was standing in the door to his bedroom, stomping his foot on the ground and yelling for his dog. For once, the canine listened to him, trotting back to its owner with a wagging tail.

“What in the name of hell are you doing here?!” Hiccup whisper-shouted, mindful of the still sleeping person in the room, but it was already too late. The leg slung over his moved first, then an arm appeared from under the covers, a hand pushing hair out of a sleepy face. She blinked and lifted her head, half-opened eyes following the noise to its source.

“What the–” Fully awake now as well, she pressed the blanket to her chest, lifting it so it covered as much of her body as possible.

A giant smirk broke out over Snotlout’s face as he leaned against the doorframe and cat-called. “Well, good morning, there. I assumed that was yours.” He pointed at a piece of underwear lying to his feet. Hookfang took that as an invitation to sniff at it. “Hiccup, my man, I had no idea you had it in you!”

Usually, Hiccup tolerated his friend’s antics, but right now, he was seriously annoyed. “Beat it, Snotlout!”

Snotlout winced, not used to that tone from him. “Jeez, okay. I just need my jacket.”

“Bathroom, on the drying rack.” Snotlout left to retrieve it. “How did you even get in here?” Hiccup shouted after him.

“I still got your spare keys,” it came from the other room.

“Well, leave them here!” With a sigh, he flopped back down on the pillow and didn’t bother to look up when Snotlout stuck his head in the room again.

“Got it. I told you I need my jacket today.”

“Whatever, man. I forgot. Now please leave.”

Snotlout showed no intention to do that. “So, I figure Astrid found you, huh?” He snickered. “She came for you?”

Hiccup was just about to grab a book from his nightstand to throw at him, but Astrid was faster. Her pillow flew through the room with deadly accuracy and Hookfang let out a playful bark when it hit his owner with a loud thud.

“Get the fuck out before I come over there, rip your balls off and shove them up your ass!”

With a visible gulp, Snotlout half-heartedly tossed the pillow in the direction of the bed. His mouth opened and closed a couple times, but no retort came out. Finally, he turned around, whistling for his dog. “Hookfang, heel! Hookfang!” The dog followed him, tail wagging. “See ya!”

Astrid growled loudly enough for him to hear it. They heard the sound of keys landing on a table, followed by a closing door. Then it was quiet.

Hiccup exhaled and looked over at Astrid, breaking out into a grin the moment their eyes locked. “Have I mentioned that I love you? Because I love you.”

She pretended to think about it. “Hmm, I think you did. But just to be safe, say it again.”

“Well then, I love you.” He shifted his position so he lay facing her. She copied him and shuffled closer until they were almost nose to nose, his arm curling around her waist under the covers. His skin prickled where it met hers, a sensation so invigorating, he forgot all about their unwanted guest just now.

“Say that again, I think I didn’t hear you.”

“Oh, I see. You want me to shout it?”

She smirked. “Only if you do it from the rooftops.”

“Gladly.” And he wasn’t even joking. All he had to do first was put on some clothes, at least underwear and a shirt. He made attempts to get up, but she slung an arm around him, pulling him closer.

“No, you stay.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned in and he enjoyed the magical moment of anticipation right before their lips touched. He was alive and his heart was burning like a wildfire. She hummed into the kiss and her hand found his under the blankets, squeezing it as if to remind him, remind herself that this was real.

He released a happy sigh after she’d pulled back just enough to look at him. A small weight landed on the blanket at their feet, jumping on and balancing up their legs. Toothless unceremoniously sat down between their chest, nudging himself into the tight space and inevitably forcing the two humans apart if they didn’t want to inhale cat fur.

“Thanks, bud,” Hiccup complained with a roll of his eyes. “Where have you been hiding when your best friend Hookfang was here?”

Astrid shook her head good-naturedly. “You’re an adorable little mood kill, Toothless. Are you craving attention?” She began to scratch his cat under the chin, evoking a contented purr.

“I suddenly feel sidelined.”

She gazed at him through her eyelashes and winked lightly. “Have I not given you enough attention last night?”

Despite his efforts to appear sulky, he blushed. “I for my part quite like it when you give me attention.”

With a grin, she reached out with her other hand and scratched him behind the ear. “There.”

“Ha ha,” he laughed dryly, but leaned into her touch, nonetheless. “But I’m not going to purr. That’s where I draw the line.”

“That’s okay, babe.”

He wanted to cheer. Astrid Hofferson had just called him babe. He was allowed to call her babe now, too. She was his girlfriend. The cry of joy was dying to leave his lungs, but he contained himself. Not because he wanted to be considerate of Astrid or the cat – she looked about as happy as he felt and Toothless had just unceremoniously wedged himself between them, he would deserve to be startled by a loud shout – but because he wasn’t very keen on dealing with his neighbor. Mr. Mildowicz liked it quiet and had been hammering against the wall last night, some time near the end of round two, and yelled threats to call the police. He was a very jolly fellow. Hiccup and his friends had dubbed him Mildew, after his absolutely pleasant personality and general hairstyle.

Turning his cry of joy into a smile so wide it hurt his cheeks, he watched his girlfriend play with his cat. He never wanted to leave this bed. Besides, four hours of sleep wasn’t enough for a Monday. With a wide yawn, he reached over and lazily stroked Toothless’ fur.

“I have to go to work.” A glance at his clock told him he had about five more minutes before his alarm.

Astrid grumbled, not just because the cat had abandoned her, climbing on top of the dresser, cleaning its fur. “Can’t you just call in sick?” She shuffled closer, laying a hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder. A bit of hair fell into her face and he tenderly wiped her bangs out of her eyes.

“Think of it this way. If I go to work, I will earn money, which I will use to buy you nice food.”

“I could just buy my own food,” she countered.

“True. But I want to buy you nice food.”

“Just steal it, then.” Her voice was only a mumble.

“Okay, overruled. I don’t have any more solid arguments.”

For a while, he listened to her soft breathing, treasuring the sight of her dozing on his chest. Her hair smelled of roses, with a note of vanilla. But when the jarring sound of his alarm clock tore through the moment, it was hard to ignore the incessant beeping for longer than five seconds.

He stretched his arm over his hand to reach the clock and turn off the alarm, his movement forcing Astrid to readjust her position, her head rolling off of him. Immediately, he missed the warm weight on his chest.

“I really need to go,” he said apologetically. She made a sound that sounded like a poor, whimpering dog in the form of a beautiful human girl, tugging at his heartstrings. But he had to stay strong. For… for what, exactly? He momentarily lost all sense of rationality when he looked into her big blue eyes, conveying the regret he was feeling. “Okay, you convinced me. I’ll quit my job.”

He was just about to make himself comfortable under the covers again when she grabbed his blanket and flung it off the bed, exposing him to the crisp air of the room. He made a noise of complaint, but she started shoving at him, trying to roll him towards the edge of his mattress.

“Nu-uh, you’re not quitting your job just to loaf around all day. Up with you!”

It was when she started tickling him that he gave in, jumping away from her evil fingers to sit on the edge of the bed. With a groan, he stretched his arms and upper body before getting to his feet and picking out clothes from his wardrobe. After a minute of silence, he glanced back to find Astrid watching his bare backside with an approving gleam in her eyes. It made him blush.

“Enjoying the view, bed loaf?”

She gave a long affirmative hum. Phantom sensations from the previous night ghosted over and under his skin like a low-voltage electric current. It really was too bad that he had to go to work.

“You can stay as long as you want, by the way,” he offered, voice muffled from the t-shirt he was pulling over his head. “Make yourself at home, take a shower if you like, use whatever products I have, loot my kitchen, for all I care.” He almost stumbled while slipping into his jeans. “I just got my second set of keys back, take them if you want to get fresh bread rolls or, err…” He rubbed his neck, glancing to the side. “You don’t have to. If you want to go home, you can just leave, of course…”

“Thanks,” she said, saving him from an oncoming ramble. “I think I’ll sleep another round.” She wrapped herself in the blankets like a burrito, burying her face in the cushions with one arm under the pillow. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to crawl back into bed to cuddle that adorable burrito. And maybe he’d nibble at some of it… “Hiccup, stop staring. Go earn yourself that money so you can buy me nice food.”

He shook himself out of his daydream, leaving to the bathroom to wash his face and comb the bed out of his bed hair. Pushing the drying rack out of the way, he stood in front of the mirror above the basin, meeting a face happier than it had been in a very long time. Brushing his teeth, he recalled the moment when he’d heard his name over the sound of the pouring rain, when a flustered and determined Astrid had shaken his world into place.

Cold and drenched, they had arrived at his place, and while he’d gone to get dry clothes for the both of them, she’d made a pot of nice, hot cocoa. They had sat on his couch to talk about everything, about them, about their relationship, about Astrid and Eret. The image of her cozy amidst his couch pillows, mug of cocoa between cold hands, wet hair tousled over his t-shirt, a pair of his sweatpants rolled up over her ankles because it was too long for her legs, eyes shining in the light of his living room lamp – it was forever engraved in his memories. Just like the moment she had blushed and confessed all the fantasies she’d had about the two of them, and exhaustion had become a foreign concept.

Now, facing a full new workday, he had to pay the price for not going to bed for actual sleep sooner. But it was a price he was more than willing to pay.

When he returned from the bathroom and stuck his head into the bedroom, if only to catch a glimpse of the love of his life lounging in his bed as if it were her own, she blew him an air-kiss. Grinning, he pretended to catch it at the last second before it flew away, and took it with him into the kitchen where he ate some cereal and prepared himself a coffee to go, whistling a carefree tune. He recognized it as one of the songs they had danced to the day before.

Rain was splattering against the windows once again. It seemed like the unusually hot days of May were over. In a way, the cooler air and cloudier sky felt like a relief after the early summer temperatures of the past weeks. Or maybe Hiccup was just in too good a mood to care.

His umbrella had dried overnight in a corner by the door. He collected his things, grabbed the umbrella, and threw on the jacket he should have taken with him the day before, then he hurried back to Astrid for a goodbye kiss. Getting lost in the taste of her lips and the warm fluttering in his stomach, he had to force himself to step away and leave the apartment. As soon as the door closed behind him, he already missed her terribly. He felt like a teenager in love for the first time, impatiently awaiting the end of school so he could go see her again.

Today, no traffic jam could put a damper on his mood, no slow-driving grandpa in front of him, not even the broken elevator in the office building. With a spring in his step and an energy level way too high for a Monday morning (and after climbing several stories of stairs, winded, with labored breathing), he arrived in his shared office.

Fishlegs was already sitting in front of his computer, head resting on his hand, wearily scrolling through emails. He perked up, though, when Hiccup entered, a curious gleam in his eyes.

“Good morning! Snotlout just texted. I’m supposed to ask you if you… uh, if you used protection? I don’t know if he was talking about what I think he was talking about.”

Hiccup threw his jacket onto a desk in the corner and left his umbrella to dry in the other, resisting the urge to facepalm. “One day, I am going to punch him. Hard. I’ll knock out at least two more teeth.” He sat in his chair and began to try and sort through the chaos he’d left on his desk before the weekend.

“I think you’d do a lot of people a favor if you did that,” Fishlegs commented with a chuckle. “Myself included. Now, what kind of protection was he talking about?”

A small, cheery smirk replaced the exasperated frown on Hiccup’s face. “Remember when you thought this whole Astrid thing was going to blow up in my face?”

“…Yes?”

“Well, guess who was with me last night.”

Fishlegs’ eyes widened. “So he did mean that kind of protection? But… She’s married!”

“Not for long, don’t worry!” He rolled his eyes. “Jeez, give us some credit here.”

“Sorry. I know you’d never… But you were so involved in the whole mess, I was worried for a moment.”

“Well, there is nothing to worry about. Her husband knows. They talked about it. Before she came looking for me.” When his friend visibly relaxed, Hiccup made himself comfortable at his desk, sipping at the rest of his now cold coffee. “You want to know everything, don’t you? I can practically see the question marks and exclamation points floating in your space.”

Fishlegs rolled his chair sideways so there was no computer standing between them anymore. He leaned forward and placed his arms on the desk, eagerly waiting for Hiccup to speak. “Yes. Tell me everything!”

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Astrid blinked her eyes open, the haze of slumber clouding her orientation for a moment. She was sprawled all over the bed, her bare legs tangled in the sheets. Burying her nose in the pillow, she closed her eyes against the daylight until she was fully awake. This second round of sleep had done wonders.

For a while, she enjoyed the feeling of soft linen on her skin, reminding her of the events of last night. In reality, they had put all her previous fantasies to shame. Her nerves still felt raw from the amount of electricity that had used her entire body as an electric lead at every skin-on-skin sensation.

Stretching profusely, she crawled out of bed, shuffling through the apartment, collecting random pieces of clothing from the ground. Her jeans, shirt and jacket were hanging from the drying rack, the jeans still damp. She maneuvered the rack into the hallway and stepped into the shower. There was an almost empty bottle of shampoo and two different shower gels. She picked the one she hadn’t seen her husb– her ex use before.

Once she had towel-dried herself, she slipped back into Hiccup’s sweatpants and t-shirt. Then she took her time making coffee and rifling through his CD collection, spotting several of her own favorite records on the shelf. She found carrots and kohlrabi in his fridge and, humming and dancing to the music on the spot, cut the vegetables into sticks and dipped them in the rest of his cream cheese.

Snacks and coffee on the couch table, she spent an hour scratching Toothless and simply lazing about. Mouth full of carrot, she answered Eret’s curious texts about the success of her mission and talked him through his nerves about his own date that night. It felt so good, so natural, lounging in her boyfriend’s clothes on his couch, texting her best friend about boys.

She didn’t know how to stop smiling. It was only the beginning of the honeymoon phase of a new relationship, she knew that, but at the same time, she felt like it had always been this way. She felt at home.

Since she was already in this fantastic mood, she recorded a long voice message about the whole story to Ruffnut, expecting a lengthy, very detail-oriented talk as soon as her friend got back to her. Said details being mostly sex-related. Maybe she should fix her up with Snotlout some time. She texted Hiccup about it, receiving an affirming answer almost immediately, followed by the pro tip that he and her better not be in the same room as them when they met.

Briefly considering showing up at his workplace during his lunch break, she instead decided to tackle one other thing off her list first. After cleaning the little mess she’d made in the kitchen, she grabbed her remaining clothes and hesitated at the door. He’d offered her the extra set of keys. Would it be weird if she already had access to his place after only one night of dating? On paper, it might seem so, but her gut said otherwise. So she took the keys and left the apartment.

On a whim, she turned back, quickly scribbling a note on a piece of paper that she planted on the small kitchen table, and added a little kiss face. She could have just texted him that she would see him later, but who didn’t like to come home to a hand-written note from a loved one?

Once in her car, she turned up the music and sang along to every upbeat song she could find in her playlist. Only when she parked in front of her parents’ house did she lower the volume, tapping her steering wheel to the beat while she waited for the current shower to pass. When it slowed to a trickle, she collected her damp clothes from the passenger seat and got out of the car.

A little nervous, she entered the house and immediately disappeared to the laundry room where she put her dirty clothes in the machine and her damp shoes underneath the radiator. She was still wearing Hiccup’s clothes, but she didn’t want to change into any of hers. Not yet. They smelled of him.

As she left the room, she met her father in the hallway. He raised his eyebrows at the bunched-up pants and the large shirt. “Hello. You look like you just fell out of bed.”

“I’ve been up at least two hours, dad. And these aren’t mine.” She pointed at the clothes, awaiting her dad’s reaction. He wrinkled his forehead and inspected her closer. Now he realized that Eret’s clothes were bigger and Ruffnut wasn’t even in the country at the moment. And when his brows slowly knit together, he probably remembered her mother mentioning a boyfriend last night. And then…

“Where exactly have you been last night?”

“With my boyfriend.” She stood tall, meeting her dad’s eyes with confidence. She would not convey any notion of guilt or secrecy, because there was no reason to, finally, not anymore.

The surprise and bewilderment on his face was almost comical. “Your what now?”

“My boyfriend. As of last night. The one I’ve been looking for when I came by.”

“You mean when you made me spill my wine on the good, new carpet?”

A sheepish expression scurried over her face. “Sorry.”

“Anyway…” He scratched his beard. “Do I need to lie the next time I see Eret?”

She frowned. “I’m not having an affair, dad! And even if I did, I wouldn’t just tell you like this. I’d swear you to secrecy and threaten you with an axe or a sword or a machine gun, if you will, before I gave you any details.”

He snorted. “Spoken like a true Hofferson.”

“I am one, after all.”

Her dad nodded proudly, then raised his hands. “Before I reach any more false conclusions, let’s say we sit down tonight and you tell me what’s going on, alright? Just one thing really quick before I go back to work – do I need to be angry at Eret?” His expression changed to that of a father ready to drop everything and go punish the guy who had made his daughter miserable. And in that true Hofferson fashion, it made her want to protect Eret from certain death.

“No, no, no, there’s no need to beat anyone up here. Nobody did anything wrong.”

“Alright… Would have been a shame, anyway. He’s a valuable member of our family, after all.”

Astrid realized it would probably need a lot of convincing for her father to actually get used to the changes that would come their way. But she knew he would never try to object to her life decisions.

“Don’t worry, dad, your monthly night of beer and card games is not in jeopardy. I’ll explain everything later. Now, where is mom? Is she home yet for lunch?”

She followed him to the front door where he picked up his bag and keys, preparing to leave for work again. “She should be back any minute.” He gave her a parting nod. “We’ll talk later. I’ll be home at six.”

“Okay.” She was already looking forward to the end of their conversation that night so she could drive back to Hiccup’s place. “Bye, dad.”

Not five minutes after he’d left, her mother’s car pulled into the driveway. Astrid leaned against the kitchen counter and fiddled with a pencil while she waited for her to come in.

“Ah, Astrid, perfect,” her mom said when she walked past the kitchen and spotted her daughter. “Help me with lunch, will you. Then there’s more time to eat.”

“And talk,” Astrid mumbled while she pushed herself away from the counter and took the bag of groceries Wilma handed her.

“What’s that?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Lunch first, Astrid. The line at the store was extra long today and there was this idiot customer at work…”

While her mom ranted about her day, Astrid followed the instructions she gave her in-between complaints about people she had to deal with at work. Half an hour later, they sat at the table, loading spaghetti and freshly made Bolognese sauce onto their plates, with a salad on the side.

“Now what was it you wanted to talk about?” Wilma took a bite of lettuce. “I suppose you’re not going to tell me what was going on yesterday?”

“Actually, I am.” Astrid toyed with the long end of a noodle hanging from her fork.

“You are.”

“Yes.” She laid down her fork and met her mother’s eyes. “You were… You were right. There’s been a lot going on and… I didn’t want to talk about it; I hadn’t even allowed myself to acknowledge most of the issues I’ve been dealing with. And, well…” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

Wilma gestured at Astrid’s plate. “Please eat it before it goes cold.” When Astrid picked up her fork again, she continued, “I’m not mad, dear. I just hate to see you struggle when I can’t do anything to make it better. I’m your mother, I’ll always worry.” She huffed a laugh. “I just told my grownup daughter to eat her food.”

“I know, mom. But I’m ready to talk now.”

“Well, it’s about time. Is everything alright with you and Eret?”

A weak smile played on Astrid’s lips as she chewed on a piece of meatball. “It wasn’t, but now it is. It’s a long story and I will tell you everything tonight when dad’s home. Just know that he and I…” She trailed of, staring at her half-eaten food. This was the hardest part. She was still not quite over her fear of failure, especially in front of her mother.

But there was no need to be afraid, she told herself firmly. If she had learned anything, it was that the world wasn’t split in two factions, black and white, winning and failing. Her marriage hadn’t worked out, but she had gained a friend back and collected experience, and she was in a new relationship, one that made her happier after one day than she’d ever been in said marriage. Plus, her mother had just made a point that she was on Astrid’s side. She looked back up. “We’re getting divorced.”

To her surprise, Wilma reached out and laid her hand over Astrid’s, the skin around her eyes crinkling. “I’m so proud of you.”

“What? For getting a divorce?”

“For doing what’s good for yourself.”

“Oh… Thanks, mom.” She’d anticipated a completely different reaction and had to wrap her head around this positive response.

“So what’s with you and Hiccup?” Her mom didn’t hesitate to get right to the next point, not missing out on anything.

Astrid’s smile widened despite herself, and under her mother’s sincerely curious gaze, she gave up on restricting it. She promptly received a knowing look which she ignored, concentrating on the rest of her spaghetti. “I know, I know. You told me and I wouldn’t listen.”

When she didn’t continue, her mother sighed. “Do I have to worm every word out of you?”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Yes, fine, we’re dating now. I liked him the whole time, surprise!” Wilma scraped the last pieces of carrot from her salad plate and shot her a disapproving glance, but before she could open her mouth, Astrid cut her to the chase, forgoing the sarcasm this time. “I like him a lot.” After a short pause of consideration, she added, “A very big lot. As in… As in, I love him. And he feels the same.”

Her mother hummed. “I could tell. If anything, the baking powder was a dead giveaway.”

Astrid pushed her hair out of her face, a light blush dusting her cheeks, like a teenager talking about her first crush. She didn’t say it out loud, but she would eat all the raw baking powder in the world for him. And her and Hiccup knowing about each other’s favorite colors right off the bat had been just as much of a sign, probably – if one believed in signs, that was.

“I’m happy for you, dear. And if you could clean the table, that would be great. I have to got back to work.” She got up and paused, looking her daughter in the eyes. “I am happy. Because you are. Everything else you will figure out. And if you need any help, even if just a few comforting words, please talk to me this time.”

“I will.” Mother and daughter shared a look that communicated more than words ever could. Then Wilma collected her things and was out the door while Astrid loaded the dishwasher. Her belly was full, her heart was swollen and any weight atop her shoulders had dissipated into nothing in the past twenty-four hours.

She couldn’t wait to go back.

#httyd #hiccstrid #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #snotlout jorgenson #fishlegs ingerman #when lightning strikes #modern au #a bit of angst with a dash of drama #or the other way around #maja writes #ff #fanfic #how to train your dragon

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atths--twice · 4 years ago

Text

A Happy Monday Afternoon

A purchase made, leads to a fun family afternoon, trying out something new.

I wrote this for my friend’s birthday, I hope you all enjoy it. 💕

March 22, 2021

Mulder opened the front door and Scully heard him exclaim happily. Turning her head, she saw he was carrying in a large box and she frowned in confusion.

“What’s that you’ve got there?” she asked as he closed the door and looked at her with a smile.

“A pasta maker.”

“A… a pasta maker?” She looked back at Faith sitting beside her on the living room floor and playing with a piano book as she sang along to the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” What has your daddy done now, my love?”

“Faithy! It’s here! The pasta maker we ordered is here!”

“Pasta!” she said, abandoning her book as she stood up and walked over to him. “Yummy pasta.”

“When did you buy a pasta maker?”

“About a week ago. Remember when we were watching that cooking show?”

“Which one?” she asked with a laugh as she stood up and walked over to join them.

“True, we have been watching a lot of those shows,” he said, as he set the brown cardboard box on the dining room table and began to pull the tape back and open it. “But there was one we watched and they made pasta from scratch. It looked easy and delicious. I thought, we could do that... I mean we have the time.” He took the pasta maker box out and moved the other to the floor, smiling as he turned it around and looked at all the features.

“Ravioli… lasagnette, whatever that is… fettuccine,” he said, with a nod. “Think of the money we’ll save making our own pasta.”

“Considering we will eventually have to buy the ingredients, not sure we’ll save that much,” she responded, looking at the pictures with a smile.

“Party pooper,” he said and she laughed. “I was looking at the pasta makers and watching videos when you were on a run a couple of weeks ago. Faith was watching with me and she seemed interested in it. There was a little boy in the video helping his mom and I thought it would be fun to have one and try it with Faith.”

“You’re so cute,” she whispered and he looked at her in surprise. “I love how excited you get to do things like this with her. You’re such a good dad, Mulder. You really are.” She smiled and he stared at her, nodding slowly as he took a deep breath.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. She kissed his cheek as she placed her hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“So… let’s unpack this thing and see how it works,” she said with a smile.

The machine was unpacked, the parts were cleaned, dried, and waiting to be used on the kitchen counter, as Mulder wiped the table down. Scully put a pot of water on to boil and then began to gather the necessary ingredients, measuring cups and spoons. Faith was playing with Grey who had laid claim to the cardboard box, jumping in and out of it with a toy and then ignoring it to chase her own tail.

“We decided on fettuccine, right?” Scully asked and Mulder nodded as Faith laughed, picking up Grey’s pink toy mouse and throwing it into the box.

“Okay. I’ll get the sauce ready while you two make the pasta. Oh, I think we still have some salad. I could make that too.” He gave a low grumble and she smiled. “Yes, Mulder… a salad.”

“Fine… I’ll just have to have some extra sauce to make up for it,” he said as he took some paper towels from the roll and smacked her ass as he walked back to the table, winking at her as he did and she shook her head with a smile.

“Okay, Faithy my love, you ready to help me make the pasta?” he asked her as he dried the table and looked over at her.

“Yes. I help make pasta. Bye Grey.” She waved to Grey and walked over to Mulder who smiled at her and bent down to kiss her cheeks loudly, causing her to laugh.

“Okay. Let’s get your apron on.”

“Okay, dada.” He opened a drawer and took out her apron. It was dark blue with teal ties, neck strap, and a pocket. There were butterflies and flowers covering the whole thing in different colors of blues and greens.

“Here we go,” he said as he put it over her head and crisscrossed the ties around her waist and then tied it in the front. “Okay, you’re ready. Oh, wait, we need to wash your hands first. Come on!” He scooped her up, kissing her and snorting in her ear, causing her to laugh again.

Scully watched them, the way he held her, pulled up her sleeves, and helped her wash her hands as he sang the alphabet song. His care for her never failed to make her feel an ache in her chest. He was a good dad, just as she had told him, and she loved watching his attentiveness with Faith.

“Now we’re ready,” he said as he dried both of their hands and set Faith on a chair. “So, the recipe says to mix it up in a bowl, but… I say we do it on the table. Like real bakers would.”

“I think we should concentrate on making the pasta and cut back on the dirty talk,” Scully deadpanned and he looked up at her in surprise.

“Are you flirting with me?” he asked and she raised an eyebrow as she started to smile and he narrowed his eyes at her. “You just… save those thoughts for later. Right now we have some pasta dough to make.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

Scully smiled as she brought over the ingredients, cups and spoons, and Mulder grabbed the large cutting board, and they were all placed on the table. He took his phone from his pocket to look at the recipe and she took out her own phone and started recording them while taking pictures periodically.

“Think we should double the recipe, so… we’ll need…” He took out the cup and put it in the flour, making sure it was level before pouring it onto the cutting board. Adding a second one, he then added a teaspoon of salt and mixed it carefully. He gave Faith the spoon and helped show her how to mix it gently.

“Now we have to beat the egg slightly before we add it to this mixture.”

He turned around quickly and took a small bowl down from the cupboard. As he came back to the table, Faith was still holding the spoon, mixing up the flour. As he reached for the eggs, she lifted the spoon into the air, a large amount of flour sitting within it. It flew back, hitting him square in the face.

The shock of it caused them all to freeze and then Mulder coughed loudly, a huge puff of flour falling onto Faith and the table. She gasped and Scully started laughing... hard. When she did, Faith copied her as Mulder shook his head, wiping at his face, still coughing as flour fell from his lips.

Scully kept laughing, bent over and then back, her head falling back as she tried to hold the phone steady. Faith put the spoon in the flour again and Mulder, his face still covered in white flour, stopped her from using it to hit him with another scoop.

She looked up as he did, saw his messy face and began to giggle before laughing hysterically, which caused Bella to bark and come running over to see what all the excitement was about. She jumped up and down, her tail wagging as they all laughed and Mulder shook his head as he reached for a kitchen towel, flour falling everywhere.

“Well,” he choked out and Scully stopped the recording on the phone, trying to catch her breath from laughing. “That wasn’t exactly what I saw happening, but I should have expected it.” He coughed and shook his head, flour falling once more as he looked at Scully who started laughing again at the sight of him.

Taking a few minutes, they cleaned up. Faith continued playing in the flour and created a bigger mess as it fell on Bella, covering her back and making her sneeze. Scully laughed as she took Faith from the chair, and turned down the gas under the pot of water, keeping it on a low boil, as Mulder wiped down the table and dried it again.

“Okay,” he said with a chuckle. “Let’s try this again.” He took Faith from Scully and looked at her as he held her. “No more throwing flour at daddy, okay?”

“Okay, dada.” Scully chuckled at the seriousness of her tone and took out her phone to record again.

Thankfully, the second attempt was much better than the first and the pasta dough was set aside to rest for a little while. Faith was taken off the chair, but kept her apron on as she went to play.

Working together, they made the salad and the sauce for the fettuccine, keeping it on a low simmer as the pasta maker was reassembled and Mulder read the instructions.

Cutting the dough into sections a bit later, they rolled out the dough, Faith once more on the chair. Mulder then helped her turn the crank handle and feed a portion of dough through, pasta noodles coming out the other side. He looked up and smiled at Scully who was once more taking a video and pictures. She smiled back as she watched him lifting the pasta delicately.

“Dada. We make pasta!”

“We sure did, love. Look at it, it’s perfect. We did a good job, a spoon of flour and salt to the face notwithstanding.” Scully chuckled and turned off the video, catching his eye and walking over to him. She wiped off the top of his right ear, a bit of flour still remaining.

“Just so cute,” she whispered, kissing his cheek and smiling.

He nodded and smiled, feeding the dough through the machine again. Laying them in little nest piles, he showed Faith how to sprinkle them with flour as they rested once more before being cooked. When they were done, he lifted her from the chair and bopped her on the nose with a flour covered finger.

“Thank you for your help, my love. You did a great job. Wasn’t that fun?”

“Uh huh, dada. Fun.” She held his face in her hands and smiled at him, Scully snapped pictures, her phone on silent as to not disturb them, that happy ache filling her heart again.

When it was ready, Mulder held Faith as he dropped one little nest of noodles in at a time, stirring it and watching it cook, taking a long noodle out to test it and see if it was ready. Again Scully snapped pictures, laughing as Faith chewed on an extra long noodle, a happy smile on her face.

The noodles were drained and plated, sauce poured over them, and the salad dished up. Everything was placed on the table and they sat down to eat, Faith still wearing her flour covered butterfly apron.

“Oh, this is so good,” Scully exclaimed as she took the first bite. “So much better when it’s fresh.”

“Could not agree more,” Mulder replied as he slurped up a long noodle and Faith laughed, munching on a cucumber and Scully smiled as she took another bite.

The meal finished, Scully brought a chair to the sink and let Faith “help” her with the dishes, which mostly involved her splashing in the warm bubbly water and helping to rinse the silverware. It did not matter though, as it made the tedious task of washing dishes more enjoyable.

They took a walk when they were done, needing some fresh air and exercise. Everyone came along, Grey trotting along with them until she scampered off to chase at something they could not see. Bella was happy to be out as well, sniffing out all of her familiar places.

Coming home before it was too dark, they said hello to all of the garden figurines Scully had bought a couple of years ago at the fairy tale amusement park. Faith especially liked the white unicorn with the golden mane and tail, petting it and telling it goodnight. Grey came running up the drive with a meow and they all headed inside.

Faith had a bath and was read a story in their bed, yawning tiredly and rubbing her eyes, falling asleep before it was finished. For a few minutes, as she lay facing Scully, draped across her body, Scully simply stared at her. She ran her fingers through her soft dark hair, over her perfect porcelain like skin, and down her nose and across her pouty lips that were so much like Mulder’s. She was so beautiful, this perfect person they had created.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Mulder said quietly, kneeling down beside the bed and staring at her, his hand on her pajama clad thigh, his thumb rubbing softly.

“I was thinking the same,” Scully whispered, running her fingers through her hair again. “She’s beautiful.”

“Of course she is. Have you looked in a mirror lately?” She smiled and reached out a hand to touch his cheek. He turned his head and kissed her palm, staring into her eyes with a soft smile.

A few minutes more and he lifted Faith gently and carried her to her room. Scully stretched and placed Faith’s book on the nightstand before getting up and walking out of the room. She heard Mulder humming softly and she smiled. She knew Faith had not woken, but it seemed they both needed a little extra cuddle time with her tonight.

Downstairs, she straightened up and was deciding on a glass of wine when she heard her phone vibrate with a text. Walking over, she saw it was from Mulder and she frowned with a smile as she looked up the stairs, wondering why he was texting.

Opening the message, she sighed deeply. It was four pictures that he had taken without her knowledge. One was of Faith bent over, nose to nose with Grey, as she played in the cardboard box. Another was her touching the unicorn in the garden, the last bit of sunlight captured perfectly. The next two were of Faith sleeping on her in the bed. One of only Faith and the other with Scully’s fingers resting on her cheek.

She smiled as she saved them and selected the one of her sleeping as the wallpaper on her phone. As she opened her camera roll to reciprocate with photos of him and Faith, she heard Faith’s door close and Mulder walking quietly down the stairs.

She smiled at him as he reached the bottom. Locking her phone, she walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He hummed a small laugh and she took a deep breath as she closed her eyes.

“How about some ice cream?” he asked softly and she nodded against his chest. “Good. I’ll get it.” He kissed the top of her head and she let him go, sitting on the couch and unlocking her phone again.

She looked through the pictures, watching the videos with no volume, laughing silently as he got hit in the face with the flour. Rewinding it, she watched it again, covering her mouth with glee. Going back, she looked at the photos she took while taking video and her eyes widened.

“Here you go,” he said, holding out her bowl of vanilla ice cream with hot fudge on top. “What’s that you’re looking at?” She turned the phone toward him and he laughed as he sat down, both bowls in his hands.

By some stroke of luck, she had captured the exact moment of impact. Faith held the spoon aloft. flour was flying up, the air around them hazy, and his face was hysterically comical: his eyes closed, eyebrows up, and mouth pulled down as the full force of the flour hit him.

He took the phone from her as she took her ice cream and he set his bowl on his lap. Zooming in, he chuckled at the look on his face and the way Faith held the spoon, as though she both seemed to have no idea while also knowing exactly what she was doing.

It was the perfect accidental shot.

Sending it to himself and making it his wallpaper, they then watched the videos she took throughout the day as they ate their dessert, laughing as they did.

He collected their bowls when they were done, took them into the kitchen, and put them into the sink, rinsing but not washing them. He came back and sat beside her again, taking her hand and sighing.

“It was a good day today,” he said and she nodded, putting her head on his shoulder.

“It was. I’m glad you bought that pasta maker.” He chuckled and she smiled as he hit the home button on his phone. “If only for that moment and that photo, it was worth every penny.”

They both laughed as he set the phone down and he squeezed her hand. Sighing, she yawned and closed her eyes with a smile.

“You’re a wonderful mother,” he whispered and she opened her eyes, watching his thumb rubbing her hand, as she remembered her words to him earlier in the day. “I know you know, but you should hear it more.”

“Thank you,” she whispered back, blinking away sudden tears. He hummed and kissed the top of her head, squeezing her hand again.

“I love you,” he whispered and she smiled.

“I love you too… flour face,” she said softly as she snuggled closer to him, his happy laughter filling her ears.

#The X-Files #XF Fanfiction #Family Life: The Story Beyond the Series #Humor #Fluff #Family #Family Fluff #Cooking #Happy #Love

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lovecanbesostrange · 4 years ago

Note

DOES SHE ASK RUBY TO BITE DANI! |

Well, does she? And when, after a long time, when Dani finally sees the advantage and agrees to it... is it awkward?

Dani and Ruby have become friends. Ruby and Grace have become friends. All platonic, of course. But biting someone (and biting to turn them) is something... intimate. Like, you have to hold on there for a while. There are moans and gasps and usually that thing is only reserved for Regina (in Ruby's case) and Grace (in Dani's case).

So, do the partners that are not directly involded with this process just... stand there? Is Grace holding Dani's hand? Does Ruby ask "hum... excuse me" as she moves her mouth to Dani's skin (AND WHERE DOES SHE BITE HER, IS ANOTHER QUESTION). Does Ruby apologize after? Does she apologize that Grace had to watch it?

Does Regina have very jealous intimate interaction with Ruby later?

Those are the follow-up questions, I guess. Good luck.

Dear Lord...

You know I’m working on this THING that you and your anon put in my head. And you send me this meanwhile?! (While there is another ask in my inbox, well rather in the drafts, because I did start typing a response...)

You know full well that Regina will make a quip first, about how Granny got turned with that scratch on her arm. Quick and effective. Ruby gets offended.

“And you know that scar hurt her whole life afterwards! Also it was a traumatic event, I’m not here to give Dani nightmares about it.”

Regina huffs, mutters something about turning all saviors into werewolves now and leaves. Which alarms Ruby, because oh right, the snark is a defense mechanism. So they have a talk and once again Regina is reminded that there is this thing she doesn’t share with Ruby and all the ways Ruby keeps holding back. Has to hold back. So this is awkward indeed.

Fifteen minutes later Grace finally comes. “So, are you guys baili-” Yeah, okay, she just saw some sideboob, not here for that. (Well, not that sideboob anyway.)

She goes back in with this look in her eyes. Dani opens her arms inviting a hug. “We talked this through and have agreed it gives me an edge. Even Sarah agrees! Although I think she believed I was joking. Well, next full moon will be a surprise.”

“I hate surprises”, is all Grace mumbles into her shoulder.

Regina and Ruby come back into the motel room.

“Have you thought about where you want to,” Ruby gets flustered, because every phrase she can think of makes this sound so dirty.

Dani puts her hands on her body as if searching for the right spot, giving her own smooth skin a last once over. (She is wearing shorts and a tank top here, so there is lots of skin showing.)

“Just so we are clear, we are talking about a werewolf bite here, not some Anne Rice gay vampire romance embrace.” Regina is getting vibes she is not here for!

“Thanks, Regina for making it weird.”

“Just the shoulder would be good, I guess.”

“And if you wear a backpack? You want the straps to chafe?”

Ruby looks at Regina and holds up a finger with a silent ‘don’t you dare make Grace aware of the words she just used’. Regina smirks.

“So upper arm? I don’t want bite marks on my legs. And, well, definitely not anywhere else.”

Regina is trying so hard to hold back a comment about ‘biting her ass’.

“It’s a sensible choice, Dani.” Ruby tries to be so casual about this. But it’s not like she has ever bitten someone before. (She has eaten people. She has fucking literally eaten another human being.)

“Okay, so I’ll try to be quick. But also not too quick, I don’t want to bite your arm clean off. So, maybe it will be slow.” Yeah, nerves of steel. Not showing at all. “Also don’t be afraid. I mean, you’ve seen the wolf, it’s just me, teeth and all.”

Grace sits on the bed, back against the headboard, gesturing Dani to sit in front of her, leaning against her. “I’m gonna be here and it’s gonna be okay.”

Like always Regina is mesmerized by the moment her girlfriend casually transforms into a huge wolf. She hangs on to the red cloak Ruby was wearing.

Ruby nuzzles up against Dani, who is trembling a bit now. Who would be looking forward being bitten by a wild animal?! She has avoided growling dogs so often, how did she end up here?! Grace puts one of her arms around Dani, using the other to hold up Dani’s arm, supporting her. “You can look away, just like with needles.”

For a second Dani considers that, but then shakes her head. Ruby has her paws up on the bed, just the perfect height to.... bite her head clean off if she felt like it. But the golden eyes seem... warm... and kind.

There is a soft growl, maybe an instinct on Ruby’s part to warn of danger. The story of Little Red Riding Hood runs through Dani’s mind. ‘my what big teeth you have’ Damn, those are big and Dani watches as the teeth close around her flesh. Ruby had not been kidding, she could bite the whole arm off. Probably on accident if she sneezed right now. And so Dani held her breath.

Ouch, ouch, ouch. Teeth sink into flesh, Ruby is trying to find the right amount of force. She isn’t sure how deep the bite must be. She had always held onto a no-tiniest-scratch-at-all-policy, but she had no experience or frame of reference. (”Gonna ask Belle to research this subject for me.”)

Dani lets out a whimper, squeezing Grace’ arm around her. “Sssshhhh, it’s okay, Dani. Breathe, keep breathing, just breathe through the pain.” The skin gets torn apart and damn, Dani wishes Ruby would do this quick. But she also doesn’t want to lose her arm. Or just any flesh. The warm breath of Ruby on the slowly forming wound is something else. It’s agonizing. Even though she had endured worse pain in her life.

Blood starts dripping on the sheets. And it’s Regina who closes her eyes, because she can’t take it. It’s not that this scene before her is particularly gruesome. She doesn’t even mind disturbing this crazy form of intimacy. It’s the thought of Ruby tearing soldiers apart with those teeth and all the self-torturing guilt she still carried and only let Regina see in brief moments. That was what she could not stand.

Ruby stopped moving her jaws. Dani’s arm was trembling more and more, but Grace kept her up. Like waiting those few seconds after putting a stamp on paper.

And then it’s over. Ruby lets go and retreats to the corner of the room. She doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that there is indeed blood to be licked up and well...

Regina goes over and throws the hood over Ruby, giving her a hug from behind before she even can stand up.

There is gaze on the nightstand and Grace grabs it, tending to the wound immediately. Okay, so the bite was no fun, but the rubbing alcohol is worse! But that is nothing compared to the fever Dani gets in the night.

She is wedged between Grace and Ruby holding her, having the weirdest fever dreams of animalistic terminators and magic used against nuclear bombs. And her senses go haywire, which is where Ruby keeps whispering in her ear that it will be okay, but it’s so clear.

They stay in this bubble for two days. Regina keeping a silent watch, wondering if this was the right choice.

#I hope you understand that I could've taken the easy way out here #on BtVS all it took for Oz to become a werewolf was a baby biting his finger!#konako #I don't even fully go here and look what you made me do #how do I even tag this?! I have no idea #a thousand words of I don't know what exactly...

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 5 years ago

Note

I was browsing your blog and I saw an anon mention "sick of losleep" (but in a joking way) my gay ass saw losleep sick, as in a sick fic, and i proceeded to scroll hoping to find said losleep sicfick, lol there was non and that is a crime XD. Would you write (or do you have any HC's) for like Sick Remy and Lo taking care of him?😎

This is WAY late and I apologize for that anon but I’m here now so!! enjoy!!

Ao3Warnings: This is a sickfic so lots of sicky stuff (cough, sneezing, fever actually happen; nausea mentioned), sleep-deprivation (Remy’s a double-threat), minor self-deprecation from both Logan and Remy for different reasons, Logan calling Remy names but in a worried loving way

“You’re sick.”

“Nope.”

“Whether or not you are willing to accept it does not alter the state of your condition.”

“Yeah. And my condition is completely amazing and awesome. Not sick.”

Logan frowned when this rather cocky pronunciation was followed by a round of rough coughing from his boyfriend. “Attempting to ignore your illness will only worsen it. Something it seems you have already done. How long have you been sick?”

“Never.” Remy replied, too confidentially given he looked ready to collapse if a light breeze blew against him. He coughed again, wincing a bit before he added defensively, “Though I might have gotten a bad headache on Monday.”

“Monday?!” Logan repeated, giving up his pretense of only being vaguely annoyed. “You’ve been suffering with this for four days?! With, what, your average seven hours of sleep each night?”

“...Seven might be a little high.”

Logan only blinked at Remy, the other boy awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. Logan was spurred back into action when Remy sneezed and immediately went back to coughing, moving forward so he could grab Remy’s arm, fairly certain the other really would collapse otherwise.

“Bed. Now.” Logan said, tugging firmly at Remy, towards their apartment’s bedroom.

“Hun, really, I’ll be fi-” Remy started, pulling his arm out of Logan’s grip. The moment he did, however, his feet caught up around each other, both illness and his much too common habit of not sleeping nearly enough stealing his balance from him as he tripped backwards.

Logan had already seen something of the sort happening, catching Remy before he had a chance to actually hit the ground. Lowering the two of them to the ground from there, Logan sighed when he realized that, as well as physically fallen, Remy had also fallen unconscious.

“An idiot.” Logan muttered to himself as he took the opportunity to rest his hand on Remy’s forehead, feeling much too hot. Fever. “I’m in love with an idiot, an utter idiot, a fool.”

Though maybe the blame didn’t fall solely on Remy this time. After all, only a moron would miss the paler-than-average skin, the way Remy had been hugging his jacket closer around him while constantly taking advil, the fact that he had been coughing so much for so long.

What could he say? Remy wasn’t exactly the role model of ‘living healthy.’ Him acting weird was normal.

But still. Logan should have noticed sooner.

Sighing, Logan removed Remy’s sunglasses as well, wincing at how badly the bruise-like bags under his eyes stood out against his sick pallor. Sick or no, it was most certainly bedtime for Remy.

The first thing Remy registered as he woke up was that he felt like hell. Which wasn’t exactly anything new- his head really had been pounding since Monday, and every day that followed had only added to his roster of symptoms: coughing, sneezing, chills, nausea. The works.

He knew he should have taken time off sooner, but he and Logan needed the money, and he had never been one to admit defeat- especially not to a stupid cold!

Remy wasn’t one hundred percent sure what the last thing that happened was, but he was pretty sure it was the ‘stupid’ cold punching him right in the gut and then laughing for a while.

So why, along with all the pain, did he feel... slightly okay?

Remy blinked open his eyes, glaring at the light that immediately assaulted them and forcing them shut again. Memories, albeit fuzzy, of his last waking interactions came with the too bright light, though they ended with what Remy was pretty sure him falling on the floor.

Did the ground always feel this soft?

Remy risked opening his eyes again, the light more manageable this time, frowning as he pressed his hands down and found them meeting strong, but not complete, resistance from whatever he was laying on, and something on top of them moved.

Oh. He was in a bed.

Remy’s frown deepened. He couldn’t be in bed! He had to get to work! He probably hadn’t even collapsed at all, just dreamed it up, stupid weak body trying to trick him into sleeping in. Well it wasn’t going to work, Remy vowed as he started to sit up, ignoring both the way his stomach flipped and his head pounded at the movement. That wasn’t going to stop him!

What was going to stop him, however, was the sudden weight that pressed against his chest, pushing him back down onto the bed. A blur of very familiar colours appeared in his line of sight, then, leaning over him while they spoke, saying something Remy couldn't completely hear but was rather sure was some form of a lecture on his lack of personal health care.

“-a reckless fool, pretending you’re not sick, not telling me; your heroic wannabe of a brother is a horrible influence on you-”

Remy fought the urge to chuckle only because he knew it would turn into a cough. Logan kept speaking, still in the descriptive nicknames part of his rant as he pressed something cool to Remy’s forehead. Even as Remy suppressed another shiver, he sighed at the relief of what he assumed to be a cold, damp rag brought to what he was finally willing to admit was his fever.

Logan stopped talking at this, just sighing as well and resting his hand on Remy’s cheek, stroking his thumb slowly across Remy’s face.

“You worried me.”

Remy pressed his cheek closer to Logan’s hand. “Sorr’babes.” He slurred.

“It’s... it’s alright, Remy, I just want to know what possessed you to make such a foolish decision.”

“’Don’t need to be sic’ to make foolish decisions.”

“More foolish than usual then.” Logan amended, and Remy snorted, immediately regretting it when the pounding in his head increased with the action. Logan paused in moving his thumb for a moment, continuing when Remy had once more settled down.

“I didn’t think t’was that bad.” Remy said quietly after a moment had passed. “Thought it was justa lil cold.”

“I know.” Logan responded. “But still. You’re my boyfriend. A particularly self-neglectful one at that. If you get sick, I want to know. Even if you think it’s nothing, or just a head cold, or anything else. It’s important to me that I can take care of you when you’re not feeling well.”

Remy didn’t say anything immediately afterwards, instead just looking at the mostly-focused blur that was his boyfriend and trying to ignore the fact that his eyes were suddenly stinging. He refused to cry over something as silly as affection, especially when it was as simple as ‘it’s important to me that I can take care of you when you’re not feeling well.’ He didn’t roll like that.

“Aw, you care.” He finally said, cooing as he smiled loopily at Logan. Logan just rolled his eyes fondly.

“For your sake, you are very lucky that I do.”

“Of course, hun.” Remy said, tone slightly more serious, though he was still too tired for much emotion outside of ‘sleepy’ and ‘sappy.’ “A’ways lucky to’ave you.”

“That you are.” Logan confirmed with a smile. The silence stretched for a few more moments before Logan murmured, “You should get some more rest.”

“Mmhmmm.” Remy hummed. More rest sounded good. It sounded very good. And so tempting to just close his eyes and let himself drift away…

Realizing that Remy was fading fast, Logan stilled his hand on Remy’s cheek, leaning in a bit so he could press a small kiss to his forehead. Remy made a small happy noise at that, and Logan patted his cheek in response. After the pat, however, Logan started to pull his hand away, mumbling quietly about starting up some soup.

Remy struggled to get his eyes open again, able to catch (to his immense disappointment) the sight of Logan shifting to stand up and head towards the kitchen. “Wait.”

Logan stopped, turning back to Remy, brow creased in concern. “Yes?”

“I-” Remy cut himself off, frowning. He looked away from his boyfriend, glanced back, looked away again. “Nevermind.”

Logan’s frown deepened as he came back over to the edge of the bed, sitting back down and brushing stray hair out of Remy’s eyes as he watched him, looking for an explanation. “What is it, darling?”

Remy shook his head, just barely. “Nothin’. Go do your thing.”

“It’s not nothing.” Logan corrected gently. “I wasn’t joking when I said I wanted to take care of you. What do you need?”

“...You’ll get sick.” Remy said, slowly, hunching his shoulders a little bit in an attempt to curl into himself without moving too much.

“I’ve been with you since you got sick, sharing an apartment with you, I carried you in here after you went and collapsed, and I just kissed you.” Logan listed off. “Don’t worry about me; I’m already doomed. Right now, I’m worried about you.”

Remy finally looked back at Logan, finding his boyfriend still frowning at him, still concerned. He really didn’t deserve him.

“Stay with me?” He finally asked, voice quieter than it had been since he woke up, feeling more than a little abashed at asking. He wasn’t a clingy boyfriend, in general. He preferred the aloof angle, preferred acting like the reason he sprawled across the whole couch was to be annoying, not to ensure Logan would have to sit near to him, and the like. He didn’t ask for stupid sappy things like ‘stay with me.’

But right then and there he was sick, he was tired, and he felt as if he was positively going to die if Logan left and took all his soft warmth with him.

Logan’s frown was quickly replaced by a gentle smile at Remy’s request.

“Of course I’ll stay.” He promised easily, his hand sliding down from Remy’s hair to once more cup Remy’s cheek. “Can I at least start the soup first? I’ll be very fast, I promise.”

“Do you have to?” Remy asked, voice even quieter, almost a whimper. He didn’t know why it mattered so much to him. It would just be a minute or two. But he didn’t want Logan to go at all, even for a second.

“I don’t.” Logan soothed, his other hand moving to rub Remy’s arm. “I’ll stay right here with you, alright?”

Remy nodded his head, already feeling his eyes start to slip shut, unworried about having to stop Logan from leaving again. He vaguely recognized Logan shifting onto the bed, pulling Remy’s head into his lap, once more combing through his hair with one hand and still running a hand over Remy’s arm.

“M’sorry for bein’ so needy.” Remy slurred, quickly losing the battle against remaining conscious and not minding that much. Logan just shushed him and continued petting his arm and hair, beckoning Remy to fall asleep even faster.

“You’re tired and weakened by your illness.” Logan said factually. “It’s normal. It’s alright. Get some rest. It’ll be okay.”

Remy nodded once as he pressed his head closer to Logan’s thigh. Logan was warm and soft, and Remy felt safe with his head nestled in his lap and held close to his boyfriend. Eyes completely shut and any reason to remain awake completely eliminated, he drifted off within a minute, feeling secure and loved.

Maybe, just maybe, the next time Remy got sick, he’d let Logan know.

#ts remy #ts sleep #ts logan #sickfic #losleep #write losleep cowards #remy's being a real Smartie in this huh /s #don't worry Logan loves him so it's okay #ts sides #sanders sides #fanfic #fanfiction #the cryptid speaks #the cryptid answers

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makeste · 5 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 269: LAID HIM OUT LIKE A BROCHURE

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor, Mic, and Aizawa finally caught up with Crust and Miruko after 19 years to help deal with the High End Noumus. Aizawa used his quirk on them, but Girl Noumu was able to get away and shoot acid at them all, and that one bone-tentacle-y Noumu was also able to attack Mirko with his quirk. Speaking of Mirko, she spent most of the chapter kicking away at Tomura’s Noumutank like those guys with the battering ram in Beauty and the Beast. Or maybe just kicking it one time very, very slowly while we cut back and forth from the scene. It was hard to tell. But either way, she didn’t quite manage to shatter it and instead just left it all cracked and leaking. Anyway so everyone keeps saying that if Tomura escapes that would be Very Bad, and I’m inclined to agree, especially since Aizawa and Mic are looking all serious and vengeful, and I’m really going to need them to not die, ever.

Today on BnHA: Endeavor helpfully and terrifyingly cauterizes Mirko’s wounds while Aizawa holds off the Noumu with his quirk and buys time for Mic to go after Ujiko and Tomura. Mic and our new optician friend Exress race down the corridor and Mic immediately uses his quirk to shatter Noumuraki’s tank, which is the fastest and most efficient action we have seen in this entire arc so far. Mic then CORDIALLY INTRODUCES UJIKO’S FACE TO HIS FIST, which caused me to have an awakening, but unfortunately the same can’t be said for Tomura, who’s now lying on the ground very much not awake and seemingly dead. So I guess that’s it, guys. Looks like Dabi is the main villain now. Good for you Dabi, those are some pretty big britches to fill. No that wasn’t a crack about your height. God you’re sensitive. And so now we get to wait another two weeks! You know what, let’s just focus on the part where Ujiko got flattened like a paper bag.

so this is the chapter that was originally scheduled to be released on Kacchan’s birthday, but what are the odds he’s not even in it. how do you all think the traffic light trio is doing. this has been the world’s longest evacuation. or do you think they already finished a long time ago and are just hanging out now and being all “can’t wait to hear back from everyone else, I’m sure they’re all fine and dandy.” which would be funny, you see, because everyone else actually isn’t fine and dandy at all! do you get it. ahaha jokes

anyway so this chapter is titled “the three of us”, so I’m guessing there’s more Aizawa/Mic/Shirakumo angst on the horizon! so you’re just going to keep on assaulting my battered heart then, Horikoshi. cool. coolcoolcoolcoolcool

HEY NOW

HORIKOSHI WE TALKED ABOUT THIS. I WILL LAUNCH YOU INTO SPACE

fffff -- okay well whatever!! it’s a manga!! she’ll be fine! they have manga science! Recovery Girl can heal her legs and her side and everything else, and get her a nice new robot arm, and she’ll have a cool scar on her ear. happy thoughts happy thoughts

FFDFSF

IS HE TALKING TO ME OR HER. I FEEL LIKE HE’S TALKING TO ME. don’t worry Endeavor I will look away for this part

lol excuse me what now

5 minutes?? by whose reckoning, exactly?? jesus christ. I bet if he turned his flames off we’d learn that he has grown a whole new actual beard. Endeavor. civilizations have risen and fallen. okay you know what, new theory, Ujiko’s basement lair is somehow running on Narnia time

OH MY FEELS HE SAYS HE OWES HER A DEBT AFTER KYUSHU. referring of course to when she showed up out of the blue to save his ass from Dabi. anyways though how nice of him to express his gratitude by setting all of her wounds on fire

I guess we can stand down from red alert now though since Mirko is clearly going to be just fine

somehow she has more calm while getting her horrific injuries cauterized than I do when trying to decide whether or not to sell electronic turnips in a video game

wuh oh

WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT HE’S A BARREL OF LAUGHS. actually no that’s a lie, you definitely would have had and did have more fun while fighting Mirko

also, this angle of Endeavor’s face, though

AWAKE! AVAST!! HOLD TIGHT YOUR BUNS! IF BUNS YOU DO HOLD DEAR

god damn it as per usual I have no idea what is going on in action panels even when I stare at them intensely for a full minute or more

I don’t even remember how many Noumus are left at this point now. who’s that sunfish-looking one on the right near Mic?? is he a new one?? is that Crust jumping around in the middle, or is he the one standing near the sunfish Noumu? who is it that’s firing that laser or whatnot in the middle?? did this big Noumu in the foreground on the left just get decapitated??

honestly it seems like they almost have things under control at long last. Aizawa and Mic should just head after Ujiko is already and leave the rest of them to it

so Mirko is now giving them all the details about Tomura and how he’s currently chilling out floating in his sensory deprivation tank

and she’s all DON’T LET SHIGARAKI WAKE UP as if she wasn’t the one trying to smash the capsule open in the previous chapter?? or did she assume he would just sleep through all that lol

also the High Ends have apparently still not completely woken up themselves yet. guess we should be grateful

WELL HELLO

if Aizawa Shouta ever cuts his hair I will declare a national day of mourning

anyways though, reinforcements! about fucking time

did anyone else immediately blink right after reading that last sentence, and then feel a profound gratitude for being able to blink freely at will. holy shit. blinking is so great

what happens if he has to sneeze?? oh my god. and what the fuck why is this a one-man show anyway, where the hell is your husband

okay there he is

“I’m here, too,” says Vision Hero: Exress. and so he is. so what kind of quirk do you have, then, x-ray vision? really hope not, no offense. just don’t see how that would exactly be useful right now. or maybe it’s laser vision, in which case yeah okay we can work with that. you heard the man, go on ahead then

this motherfucker is still alive?!

I really cannot express enough just how steep of a cliff Endeavor has fallen off of in this arc. he has not done a single useful thing aside from the cauterizing. so now it’s up to Eyeballs Hero: Sees Real Good to hopefully somehow oneshot this guy whom the number one hero barely managed to scratch

OH MY GOD AN ACTUAL PLOT TWIST

CRUST ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING. took me a minute to realize he was shouting “go” in that speech bubble, as opposed to randomly screeching out his age, 60

Mic and Aizawa are so hot but I’m feeling such impending doom right now

-- oh no. oh fuck. I just realized -- why are they splitting them up?? sir that’s his emotional support hero

ffff for reals though I feel like Mic doesn’t have the same plot protection as Shouta. and I also feel like this is a very stupid decision in general, and that the guy who can cancel out quirks should be included in the group of people rushing in to capture the scary big bad whose quirk is an insta-kill. but what do I know, I’m just a regular person who didn’t go to hero school and get their hero MBA so MAYBE I’M WRONG. but am I

oh shit oh shit oh shit

not really clear on what Mic is doing here since he should in theory just be running like a normal person, but I can’t complain much about the dynamic pose. and meanwhile Ujiko has finally snapped to the fact that he should have woken Tomura up a good half hour ago!

and on top of all that, it sounds like they didn’t destroy all of their supervillain research data either, so if he does manage to escape we could be right back to square one before long. good thing they definitely positively won’t let him escape!!

OH MY GOD THIS SHIT IS FINALLY HAPPENING AHHHHHH

MIC’S VOICE IS SO POWERFUL IT INSTANTLY SHATTERED THE GLASS WHICH EVEN MIRKO’S NOUMU-DECAPITATING RABBIT LEGS COULD NOT BREAK, OH MY BISCUITS, WE STAN AN ICON AND A LEGEND

DID HE MANAGE TO STOP HIM BEFORE HE ACTIVATED THE WAKEUP SEQUENCE OR WHATEVER THE FUCK? IF YES WHAT IS EVEN GOING TO HAPPEN NOW, WILL TOMURA JUST CURL UP IN A LITTLE BALL AND CONTINUE TO SLUMBER PEACEFULLY WITH HIS HAIR ALL WET. HE’LL CATCH A COLD

BUT FOR REAL THOUGH OBVIOUSLY HE IS GOING TO WAKE UP AHHHHHHHH

nghhh everything’s shattering all dramatically and in slow motion

swear to god if this chapter ends with Tomura opening his eyes while we cut to another two week break, I will... ... ...well I guess I’m about to find out though because that’s exactly what’s going to happen isn’t it

(ETA: if you can sleep through Present Mic’s attack you can really sleep through anything huh.)

lol but first

sploosh. down he goes. timber. still a sleepy boi. I take a nap right here

LORD, MIC IS ABOUT TO RIP UJIKO A NEW ONE AND I’VE NEVER FELT SO ALIVE?!

CUE HORIKOSHI CUTTING TO SOME MORE FLASHBACKS OF OBORO TO MAKE US ALL SAD. THAT’S RIGHT, I KNOW ALL OF YOUR TRICKS! BRING IT

1) the fuck is he doing, 2) is this the first time we’ve seen Aizawa call Mic by his name??, and 3) WHAT DID I TELL YOU THOUGH

MY HEART IS A STONE! I FEEL NOTHING! YOU CAN’T HURT ME SO GIVE IT UP. please give it up sob

OH NO

UNDONE BY AIZAWA’S SOFT EXPRESSION AND WISTFUL EYES NOOOO I lied I am not a stone at all I am a big squishy marshmallow of feels oh fuck

OH WOW

DON’T EVER LOOK BACK. ON THE WORLD CLOSING IN!! BE ON THE ATTACK. WITH YOUR WIIIIINGS ON THE WIIIND

he straight up ENDED HIS LIFE. holy shit. 4/24/2020. the day I was sexually attracted to Present Mic

anyways now back to your regularly scheduled sad feelings at the reminder of the fact that yep, Ujiko and all of his fucked up experimenting absolutely did make Aizawa cry. not that I’m saying that’s a crime of even greater magnitude than all his other crimes of kidnapping and torture and research using human children. I absolutely am not saying that. just implying it. in a joking manner. semi-joking. partially. kind of

(ETA: also, belated shout out to the fact that his excuse for doing it was so he could verify that it wasn’t another clone. and since it’s Present Mic, there’s a 74% chance he screamed out “CLONE CHECK!” in English too, which, bless.)

I know there’s a particular side of fandom that largely thinks that all heroes are Garbage Scum, but I mean, look at this scene though of Gazerbeam crouching down to gingerly check Tomura’s vitals. idk, I thought this was surprisingly gentle

I should probably be more concerned about that statement, but truth be told, I’m much more anxious about Gazerbeam going the way of his namesake shortly henceforth. please be careful please I know he looks all floppy and wounded and surprisingly vulnerable --

-- okay, very surprisingly vulnerable --

I really do have a thing for the hair covering the eyes huh. I’m learning things about myself!

but still! he could basically just blink at you at this point and you would turn to dust, Gazerbeam. DUST. ASHES. DEBRIS SCATTERED TO THE WINDS

wow apparently that space tube was doing a lot more than I thought

mhmm. sure. Horikoshi. dude, I can see you sitting there shaking with barely suppressed laughter. did you really think this would get us to let our guards down. are we a joke to you. did you think we would just be all “oh gosh I guess he really is dead then, wow, what a twist”

oh!! the reinforcements!!

did you hear that guys. it’s done. the heroes won and Tomura is dead and it’s really over just like that. what a positive ending for everyone. except Tomura I guess

I’ve said before that U.A. needs to add a course about tempting fate to their curriculum, and I stand by that. this is absurd. it’s like y’all want to die

oh look at that Endeavor finally killed one

was that really so hard. could you not have done that earlier

-- GODDAMN IT ARE YOU REALLY DOING THIS AGAIN

“what if... I dragged it out so much that the dragging-out was the cliffhanger?” that’s some galaxy brain you got there dude. let’s just end the chapter on that WHY NOT

anyway. so there you have it guys. just look how dead he is. that’s the smile of someone who is absolutely, certainly, one hundred percent dead. look at him, all at peace. definitely not gonna finally wake up two weeks from now and properly introduce himself to our new friend Gazerbeam and my new we’re-just-trying-something-out-and-taking-it-slow-and-we’ll-see-where-it-goes boyfriend Present Mic!

lol I can’t lie, these last couple chapters have tested my patience a bit! fortunately this chapter had many saving graces in the form of Mirko, Aizawa, Mic, and for reals though Gazerbeam whom I genuinely did grow attached to almost immediately for reasons beyond my grasping. but I’m starting to get an inkling that Horikoshi is just incapable of pacing himself well whenever the story moves to a basement. or maybe I’m just cranky on account of being holed up in lockdown since time immemorial and only getting my new BnHA fix every other week! maybe, that could be it. maybe. ah well. at least Present Mic punched Ujiko in the fucking face

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