#sorry for the delay! i had a lot of stuff to do at work (still do) and couldn't answer properly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pickledcarrotsandradish · 1 month

Note

For the situation fanfic ask, could you do Rise Leo for 1. Touch starved/cuddle curse? I love the way you characterize him

This is very kind of you to say!!! Thank you so much!!! So sorry for the delay. I am trying my best to get better at not overthinking one shots, but I still tried my absolute best! hope you enjoy!

Slight CW for issues with eating enough food and language.

In all actuality, the curse should have been funny.

Like, this wasn’t a case of the jelly bones, or his hand being on fire. It was a case of The Cuddles, with the title capitalization and everything.

At least that’s what it said on the pamphlet the receptionist at the mystic clinic told him. Didn’t even need to see a doctor for this. Leo had just gotten got by a couple of yokai kids playing a prank. He hadn’t even been the target! All he had done was jump in the middle of some good natured mystic roughhousing and kinda ruined the mood. It had looked like serious bullying to him! Like they needed a hero!

“Okay…” Leo droned out, bouncing on the balls of his feet to try and ease the ache of something that kept growing through his body, “But shouldn’t I still, like, see the doctor for the cure or whatever?”

The literal Secretary Bird Yokai gave him a blank stare and droned, “The cure for The Cuddles is cuddles. We do not have those kinds of doctors around here.”

“But--”

“Look, kid. I remember hearing about you and your brothers from Hueso. You guys are already the hugging types. You’ll be fine. Now, please, get outta here so I can go on my break.”

So Leo did leave. But not to go home.

Because the night before, he had exchanged some words with his beloved, egg-headed weirdo of a twin.

Donnie must not have been getting a lot of sleep or something, because it seemed to have come out of nowhere. It wasn’t even like Leo was home that often, and yet he found Donnie ready to explode in his room the one time he had been in there for the past few days.

They had exchanged words about… something. Leo was already tired, and the curse was making him uncomfortably itchy and chilly. It had been all, “You need to rest,” or “You need to eat” and stuff like that. The specifics blurred together with talks he’d been waving off with his other family members.

But the point was that the argument ended with Donnie yelling,

“I can’t trust you to take care of yourself!”

That was the part Leo remembered crystal clear. That made him grind his teeth and force his body away from those who might give him the cure for this.

He’d show Donnie. He’d take care of this all by himself.

Day 2

Since Leo had gotten cursed and informed of the curse close to midnight, he decided to go ahead and call it the end of day one. Sure it hadn’t been a full 24 hours with the curse, but it had marked the end of that day. It made sense if you just thought about it like how Leo was.

And midnight was the perfect time to run around the city doing patrol again. The human city this time. Thankfully, the Hidden City was doing just fine this long after the invasion. And he kept his promise to Mikey about taking a break from patrolling NYC.

Break time was now over, so back to work.

The curse didn’t even make it that hard. While he was running and jumping, his mind was too focused on everything he was doing. Taking in all the sensory input to try and find someone else in danger. Kinda like how he felt better when he was sick if he watched a YouTube video while playing a video game. Too much else going on to think about yourself.

And he was able to help. Like, there wasn’t as much mutant crime going on. And the human stuff had, like, humans to help out with that. Leo couldn’t provide any more help than a firefighter or an EMT could in those situations usually. But he still kept a lookout, just in case.

What good he ended up being able to do was this:

-Portaled some drunk dudes back to their dorm when he saw them trying to unlock their car. -There were these two dudes who had been yelling really loudly at one another. They ran off in opposite directions the moment Leo stepped into view. -Gave a tourist directions to the M&M store in Times Square (even though it hurt his soul to help anyone get to that waste of space.)

Which. Not the most impressive Hero List of the night. The only thing he could really count as heroic-heroic was when he stopped an actual fight-fight at a late night bus stop.

Granted, the way he did that felt a bit embarrassing. When he tried to catch the dude who got shoved, they both ended up falling. Leo was the only one with a bloody nose and a scraped cheek, while the other two would be brawlers scrammed the moment they realized an actual i-r-l mutant was there.

Because of that, Leo decided to call it a night. The sun was coming up, so it was time to start day patrol.

He stopped by home to get the stuff he needed to stop the bleeding. Humans were already scared enough as it was. Looking like this wasn’t going to score him any more charming points.

So Leo pulled the ice pack of random assorted veggies that no one ever used out of the freezer, and sat down at the kitchen table to get to work patching up his main talent.

But he should have grabbed a coffee on the way over there, cause his mind completely skipped over how Mikey was also asleep at the table. Little dude woke up with a jolt the moment Leo sat down and realized he wasn’t alone for some reason at 6:33 AM.

“BWAH!” Mikey woke up with a jolt, “Leo! You--What happened?!”

“I fell,” Leo simply explained while treating his wounds, “But what are you doing here?”

“Cause you said you weren’t going to patrol the city tonight!”

“Yeah, I took a break that’s what I said and that’s what I did.”

What he expected was another worried Mikey who would hover around him and ask a million questions like any of the answers would be “I will shatter like a dropped mirror in ten seconds.”

He underestimated the power of a sleepy Michalangelo. His baby brother groaned in annoyance loudly enough to wake the entire lair and the city block above.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” He accused, reaching across the table to grab the hand Leo was using to press the cold pack into his recently bandaged cheek and

Now that Leo wasn’t doing anything important, there was nothing to distract him from the Cuddles. And it was the contrast that made everything feel that much more intense.

That even though the hand Mikey was grabbing was holding the ice pack, it felt so much warmer than the rest of his body. That that hand was the only part of him not aching and shivering. As if he was completely submerged in ice water that could also have you feeling itchy, and his hand was the only thing above water.

It left him wanting to climb out of this hole and cling to his brother. Let his body feel relief and peace. Mikey was still talking about how Leo lied to him as the slider reached out for a hug

“No need, Michael. Apparently, Leonardo can take care of himself.”

He dropped back into the hole of ice water willingly.

Leo forced himself out of Mikey’s reach and turned to give Donnie his most pleasant “fuck you” smile.

“That’s right,” Leo responded, “I take much better care of myself than the dude who consistently gets four hours of sleep a night.”

“Says the only one of us who is actively bleeding at the moment.”

“Oh, am I? I see you have your battle shell on at dawn again. You didn’t sleep in it all night again, did you?”

Leo batted his eyes while Mikey turned his ire to the dum dum moron named Donatello. Even blew the two of them kisses as he announced how he was now going back to bed, like someone who could take care of himself.

And he was going back to bed. He had left bed a few days ago, and now he was going back to bed. Proving his point that he was by far the more responsible twin and that the others should be on his side and that he was the one who was owed an apology.

Even if he didn’t get any sleep because he couldn’t stop shivering. This was fine. He was hugging his pillow and that should count.

Day 2.5

No sleep and four hours later, Leo was out looking for something hot and fast to eat in the kitchen.

Normally, he’d be making coffee in this kind of extreme exhaustion. But the machine had already been stolen to the lab of an evil-fucking-mastermind. So, that was off the table to go and try to fight for that back. Not worth having to go and talk to someone so stubborn.

Tea wouldn’t give him the caffeine shakes he needed, but he also couldn’t drink a refrigerated energy drink with how cold everything was. The kind of cold that made him want to curl up under the heat lamp with his full winter gear on at the bottom of a turtle pile or--

So that was how Raph found him microwaving two monster energy drinks at ten in the morning. He didn’t deserve that weirded out look. It wasn’t like they were still in their cans anymore. Leo remembered that after three seconds of his own personal lightshow.

“But, why?” Was all that Raph asked.

Leo shrugged, “Want a hot energy drink. You want some too? I might be on to a new thing here.”

And that got Raph to laugh, which did a decent job warming Leo up from the inside out. Would have probably completely thawed him out if it weren’t for the stupid curse thing.

He’d let the curse be permanent if he could keep making Raph laugh and not worry.

He was worried though. Clearly wanted to say something and kept stopping himself in the middle of it. Eventually, the slider gave him a noogie and kept on walking while he told him to keep it to just the one drink.

It was because the dude kept walking, that he didn’t see Leo’s whole body turn to follow him before stopping himself. This was good. That’s what Leo wanted to have happened. Excellent.

Raph kept moving away from him. Awesome. Opening the fridge and letting out the cold air that Leo could swear he could feel from all the way over here. The room seemed to keep getting colder and colder while Raph rummaged through their deli meats.

Leo willed himself to stay right there and watch the numbers count down for his incoming hot drink. Because if he pushed Raph to hurry up and close the door, then he was not going to let go of the big guy who everyone knew felt like a furnace. And Leo was proving to Raph that he could take care of himself almost more than anyone else. Even Donnie. But proving it to Donnie was important for spite and winning, while proving it to Raph was important for like, the world.

Regardless, the slider didn’t let himself move. Just hugged himself while watching the numbers countdown to zero. Raph said something, but Leo was currently too busy burning his tongue on this hot carbonated curse from hell. He almost spat it right back out, but forced himself to keep chugging the weirdly syrupy and steamy beverage. And because of mystic bullshit, it didn’t warm him up.

Stupid mystic whatever with it’s stupid stupid. Fine.

It could keep him from getting warm, but the caffeine should still be kicking in soon. That would get rid of the cotton in his head and the general blegugh feeling weighing him down. Now he just needed something solid so he wouldn’t get the no-food-shakes too badly and--

Raph’s hand was on his shoulder. Leo jumped so violently that it left just as fast as it appeared. There, thankfully, hadn’t been any time to get used to the warmth.

The two of them stared at one another, blinking in confusion before Raph pointed at the family sized frozen pizza, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I was asking if--uh--Are you going to be staying long enough to have some?”

“You’re good, dude,” Leo responded automatically, feeling that same sinking feeling of shame whenever Raph apologized for anything these days, “I should have been paying attention--”

“It’s cool. Makes sense that a drink like that would fry your brain.”

“What? Nah, it’s the… best? I was actually just about to make myself another?”

“Pfft! Raph has never seen your poker face be so poor for anything!”

To try and prove his point, and also double down, Leo quickly tried to chug the remaining half of the new radioactive ooze he had made. It showed that what Draxum had done really wasn’t special. He could do it in their underground kitchen no sweat.

And the end result of his bravado had him burping uncontrollably and feeling like he might throw up. Leo was making some very concerning burping noises into the sink while he listened to Raph howl with laughter behind him. It was the most Leo had made him laugh since the invasion, and the sound was like an auditory heated blanket. It was warming him up from the inside out.

That was also because, he realized, Raph was rubbing his back. The way he used to do. Like back when they were kids, or back in the old lair, or when Raph still genuinely liked him.

It was so close to being a hug, and its effects were addictive. Raph’s large hand rubbing across his upper back left a warm feeling in its wake. Just like with Mikey, it made every other part of his body colder by comparison. Like he had splinters all over his body, and Raph had removed them only around his shoulder blades.

“You okay?”

The hand paused in its movements, and Leo almost whined with protest. And realized he was practically hanging onto the sink while his legs had gone weirdly boneless. Who knows how long it had been since the Burps from Hell had stopped, and he had just been standing there. Letting Raph rub his back like there weren’t a billion and one other things Leo should be doing at that very moment.

He couldn’t remember what a single one of those things were, but he knew they existed. The first step was taking a biiiig step away from his very confused big brother. And--aw, shit, the Raph Chasm was back. C’mon, Face Man.

“You got me!” Leo made himself laugh, so Raph wouldn’t be able to see him shiver, “Yeah, that was a bad idea! I’ll go--uh--get something at a bodega or something! I can--yeah! Whoops! Enjoy that pizza!”

“What’s this? Nardo isn’t staying for lunch? Shocking.”

The words got Leo’s mind to go sharp. That was good. Sharp could cut through the cold, and the uncomfortable ache and weirdly itchy feeling that was growing. Like someone had replaced his skin with sandpaper and snow.

Leo walked past his two brothers with a, “Just saving more for you guys! Everyone knows Donnie’s gotta eat! I leave him in your guys’ capable hands! Tah-tah!”

And left for patrol.

Patrol was fine. He ran around and helped people.

He was going to, once he stopped stopping every other rooftop to catch his breath. It wasn’t even like he was winded. But he couldn’t get in the zone like he could last time. And nothing big enough was happening to help keep his attention--

Which was GOOD. It’s not like he wanted bad things to happen to anyone. The city had been put through enough thanks to him. So, this was ideal. It was just his job to keep running around, checking the police alerts, and be there for others when--if he was ever needed. That would be the good thing to do.

So he tried not to feel too much relief when he heard some boaters had gotten themselves stuck in the middle of the Hudson. He could go and save the Coast Guard a trip or something.

It was simple and easy. Portaled to the river. Find the dudes who needed saving. Reconsider his plan to just put a portal under their boat. It could land weird and break. So Leo decided to portal himself over. He’d land on top and portal everyone to safety. It made more sense on how that would work in his head. In his head, doing that would keep everyone happier with him. That meant he was doing good. Which meant

And Leo didn’t stop to consider that the boat was made for specifically two kayakers. So when he landed his big mouth on it, the dumb plastic thing immediately capsized and dunked them all in the stinky river.

If Leo hadn’t already been keeping what Donnie had described as, “a worryingly tight grip on his swords to the point the action could be considered to be anal retentive personality” then he might have lost them. But, he didn't lose them, and he had cleverly responded with “haha, you said anal.”

The point was. Leo didn’t lose control of himself or his swords and was able to portal both the kayakers to safety.

But the boat. The dumb, stupid, probably expensive boat, went zooming down the river at an annoying speed.

Fine. Leo was a great swimmer. He’d find their stupid boat so they’d be fine and not regret not waiting for the Coast Guard or taking an impromptu swim. Cause Leo would get the boat, and not make their lives any worse. Cause these were good actions which meant he was doing good so he was being good so he was good.

That’s what he told himself when he would take a breath, and watch the cloud of mist appear. Because who goes kayaking in February? Dumb, nice, well-meaning tourists who didn’t know how badly Leo--

There it was. The stupid boat. He portaled it back to the tourists who were already being helped out by actual heroes that wouldn’t have gotten them wet or their boat almost lost. Getting professional care from dudes who knew what they were doing, and not putting on an act the entire time.

Leo portaled himself to a random rooftop and shivered. That was becoming annoyingly recurring. But now with the stupid shit curse and the stupid shit water he was freezing and cold and he wanted to go home but that’s not what taking care of himself would look like. He didn’t get a hug cause--

Wow. That. The thought made him weirdly emotional. Leo didn’t get a hug. He could still have hugs from his family before this curse. But, what if it never got broken? That would mean that--

…

Deep breath. It wasn’t about him. He’d show them. Show Donnie. He was fine. He was good. He was a good brother and a good turtle-person and WOW HE WAS COLD.

Pit stop. He’d keep doing patrol after he dried off. Go home and--

His stupid portals weren’t working. They were taking him to random places again. Started doing this whole annoying routine again after the invasion, and this was probably the worst time for that to happen. Which was great cool and fine and

Warm. Finally.

Yes, he still ached and itched in an annoying way that he could feel down to the marrow of his bones. And he was still freezing, but was warmer than before and he would take it. So he just stood there. Even though if he did stuff like, grab a towel he could dry off faster. There was no way he was taking one step away from whatever was this warm.

“Pepino?”

Aw, c’mon.

Leo had portaled right in front of Hueso’s oven. The oven that the skeleton needed to be putting in a fresh pie right about now. Leo only wished a little bit that he could just climb in the brick oven alongside the ‘za but, that probably would just create more problems down the line.

“S-S-S-S-S’UP!” He forced himself to yell out after an annoying amount of stuttering since his teeth would not stop chattering! It was so over the top! This kind of stuff was only supposed to happen in cartoons!

And that got Hueso to put down the pan and aw c’mon, Leo didn’t have time for this! Neither did the skeleton! That’s why Leo hadn’t really come here since that one time to prove he was okay! They were both busy! Busy being good!

That’s what Leo was trying to explain, in a much cooler way of course, before Hueso stopped him by putting his hands on both of Leo’s shoulders.

It wasn’t exactly like how it had been with Raph and Mikey. Probably something to do with lack of flesh or not? But the relief was still instant, even if not as intense. Like he was finally allowed out of the cold, even if the freezer door was still open. The whole thing made him want to reach out and hug

“Yeah!” Leo shouted, interrupting whatever Hueso had been saying, “M-M-My bad! I’m going right now--”

“You sit down right now or so help me I will--!”

Didn’t have to shout. Going back to the cold and the ache with the itch seemed doubly bad than if he had just stayed in it.

So, malicious compliance. Leo sat down right there on the floor. Or, like, fell to his hands and knees. Point was, he was being good and following the rules. Crawled over to lean against the wall while he waited to hear what else Hueso wanted from him.

This wasn’t so bad. In the grand scheme of whatever, this was nothing. Leo was just uncomfy. There wasn’t anything physically wrong with him.

Which is why it didn’t make sense when Hueso asked, “What is wrong?”

“Ha,” Leo laughed, forcing long and even breaths, “You should--You should ask that to Donnie the next time you see him… Moron hasn’t been taking…taking good care of himself. Never sleeps, never eats, and he’s impossible to talk to.”

That’s who was really bad at taking care of themselves, and had the audacity to try and project it onto Leo. He had enough about himself he was trying to fix, thank you very much! But, he was doing it! Donnie was the rude dude with attitude who was trying to stop his cool self improvement journey or whatever. Throwing stones out of his glass house, only to bounce off of Leo’s totally cool impenetrable house.

And his words didn’t seem to be helping Hueso at all. Okay. Desperate measures.

“I also got a bad case of the literal Cuddles, if you can believe it.”

That time, his words made everything click together for Hueso. And the skeleton gently leaned down and enveloped him in such a nice hug. It was so nice, that it really made all the parts of him that weren’t feeling as nice suck even more. Like, what?

Like how to distract yourself from one pain with another. This hug was taking just enough away from him to leave Leo wanting to cry or run or something. The impossible feeling of feeling worse while doing better.

“You need a hug, and a long one by the sounds of it, by someone you are closer to. By someone you yourself want a hug from.”

His laugh in response to that was not wet.

“Your hugs are always nice. And we’re close, aren’t we?”

Hueso nodded, “Yes, sobrino. Now, eat something and go hug your brothers.”

Grateful to get away from all that wonderful warmth, he stole a slice from a fresh pie and portaled away with some clever joke he couldn’t remember.

And instead of landing in his room like he planned, he fell face first onto the sewer floor. Only managing to keep ahold of his swords, and not the nice gift slice. Great. Cool.

As he walked home, he debated if he should get something else to eat first. And then he thought about if the others had eaten.

Raph and Mikey were really good at making sure the other one ate. Which had been especially important post invasion. Raph had gotten more sensitive to certain food textures, and Mikey’s appetite had been shot. They held each other accountable and worked together to make sure the other stayed fed.

And Donnie…

Well, he also had another food texture to be crossed off his list. That was fine. So did Leo, even if he would never admit it. None of them would be craving calamari ever again.

Donnie benefitted from having Raph and Mikey around. They were a good influence. Even if they couldn’t get Leo to eat as much as they liked, that was fine. Leo was taking care of himself. His twin was the one who needed taking care of. Once he admitted it, everything could go back to the way--

No. He couldn’t think like that anymore either. Things would never go back to normal. Where it was non stop fun and goofs. Because the world was dangerous and they could end up dead if Leo didn’t take it seriously.

But, he could still have fun. The world was worth fighting for. He felt like he cherished and appreciated his family more than ever before, if that were possible. This new normal was fine, as long as they were all together while Leo worked on doing good.

… Was this good? Walking home alone in the sewer, feeling like he was going to freeze solid with every step?

Or, what if he never got home? That he was just walking forever in some sort of stupid purgatory cause he really did die in

“Wow, welcome back. You’re looking good.”

“I know I’m looking better than you are,” Leo responded on autopilot, “Cause you, once again, don’t look like you’ve slept in days.”

“Yeah? Well at least I don’t smell like--Wait, what happened to you?”

Leo didn’t remember when he shut his eyes, but when he opened them, he was under the intense scrutiny of the one and only Donatello with his dumb goggles. And, most importantly, a hand grabbing his arm to keep him from moving.

Something something data points, every time Leo got even the smallest kind of embrace or whatever, it was going to be worse when it stopped. That was a fact his brain was screaming at him now. To shake off Donnie and get it over with. Cause it was only going to get worse before it got better. So rip off that bandaid and jump into that portal before Casey loses his nerve--

“--and what kind of mystic bullshit happened here?! Damnit! Nardo I swear--”

“Oh? You don’t know?” Leo scrambled for a purchase on this possible moral high ground, “Wow! Then it sounds like since I do know what’s going on, I can take care of it myself. Since you don’t know what’s going on. So you can’t help.”

Maybe it had been too mean, by the look that put on his twin’s face was anything to go off by.

But, it got Donnie to yank away and take all the relief with him. Leaving the curse or whatever to redouble.

And, the dude didn’t even really say anything. Just walked away. Slamming a door somewhere.

Cause Leo was taking care of it. This was the good thing to do for… someone. Eventually. Probably.

Day 5

Leo didn’t really remember Day 4.

Vaguely, he remembers shivering in bed. Trying to will himself to move. And then Splinter was checking his temperature and--

If the pain doubled with every released almost hug, then so did the relief. The sensation did not make him cry, but he was ordered to stay on bedrest while he got Purple.

Ha. Jokes on him. Donnie knew now that Leo could take care of himself. The only thing he hadn’t done was admit it out loud.

So, before Splinter could come back empty handed, he’s pretty sure he went on patrol again. Maybe somewhere. Hopefully still New York, since that’s where he had the most hero make-up work to do.

He was just so cold.

That was the worst part. He wasn’t hurt or dying. Wasn’t anywhere near that. And he couldn’t even keep his eyes open; he was shivering too hard. Every step felt like he was moving through air made of fiberglass.

No idea how long he was walking until he remembers sitting on the rooftop edge. Trying to block the wind. There wasn’t supposed to be wind in space.

His phone was buzzing. There wasn’t supposed to be cell service in space either. He remembers watching a documentary on that one time with his family. And there was no way his phone wasn’t just rubble by this point either.

But when he pulled it out of his pocket, there it was. The screen wasn’t even cracked. There should be some sort of humor to that, cause like

Leo always had a cracked phone screen, and he knows his shell must be severely cracked right now. How is his phone going to survive this but not him? Is he really not made of tougher stuff than that?

With numb fingers, he answers one of the calls. It might be Raph’s. Hopefully it’s Raph. He’ll be able to keep everyone safe and--

“WHERE ARE YOU?!”

That was Raph's voice. Or, no, it was Donnie’s voice? No, it was everyone’s voice. They were all talking over one another. Or something. But

Leo was where he was supposed to be, while they were they were supposed to be. The only way for him to do good. So he was good. Just like them.

They were all still yelling at him when he remembered to ask, “You guys okay?”

Donnie was the only one speaking now. Something about how he was gonna kill Leo for removing his tracking chip. But, that probably wouldn’t work with where he was now. No more satellites and stuff so. You know.

“Nardo what are you talking about? Shut up--or don’t--just tell us where you are!”

The question didn’t make sense. Didn’t they watch him? Or, did Raph have them turn away? That would probably be for the best. But, then why were they still looking for him?

“Watch you do what?! You--AUGH! I’m going to strap you down to a bed myself when I catch you--”

No, what? C’mon. They weren’t supposed to… Like, if they couldn’t get him back right away, they were supposed to move on and stuff. Not spend this much time on him.

“Let me, c’mon, let me talk to him--! Leo! Hey, you’re gonna be okay buddy! Is there any sort of signal you can give us? Or, can you tell us what you see around you?”

Leo shook his head at Raph’s voice before remembering they couldn’t hear that.

“Can’t open my eyes… hurts…”

Shouldn’t have said that. Don’t want Mikey to hear.

“That’s okay!” Mikey begged, “Just, can you tell us anything about where you are? Are you still in New York?”

He guessed a part of him always would be? What was--

“GOT IT!” Donnie screamed almost manically, “FINALLY traced his phone! MAN I am hard to track. Okay, are you in this building or on the roof? Cause it’s a big building and--”

That didn’t make any sense. But, that was okay. Donnie was smart like that. Understood things that Leo didn’t. He should have listened to them all before but. Now he was out of time.

“I’m sorry, you guys,” He whispered, “I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you--”

“Do not be sorry nothing to be sorry about--”

Donnie was demanding before Mikey must have taken the phone and asked, “Why are you whispering?”

“Don’t know how much longer… until he finds me,” Leo whispered again, “I love you guys so much. I should have listened.”

His heart was screaming at him to shut up. That last minute words like this just leave loved ones feeling sad. Should have just kept it at his cool, off the cuff hero move talk. That was nice. Wouldn’t haunt them.

They could move on and Leo hoped he would too.

There was some sort of whirl noise like it was coming from a mini helicopter. Maybe? It was a machine noise. Which meant that he’d been found in whatever hiding spot he’d been thrown into. So

“I got you.”

Warmth.

That led to day Five

“Nope, your math is wrong,” Donnie told him from somewhere in the turtle pile, “You were cursed for approximately forty-four hours. Not even close to five days.”

“Prebby sure ish five,” Leo mumbled, head feeling like warm mush. Like fresh mash potatoes from Mikey.

“Eww!” Mikey chuckled from somewhere directly above him, “Not a mashed potato brain!”

All Leo could do was give him a sleepy hum of confirmation.

“Okay, potato head,” Raph was somehow enveloping them, but that’s just what big brothers did and Leo learned not to question it, “Glad you aren’t questioning big brother rules. Now, take another bite.”

It was some sort of warm porridge with little strips of meat and hunks of veggies and it made Leo want to cry with how delicious it was. How it made him feel impossibly warmer and safer with every bite.

But then Raph would say that he would need to pace himself and take it away.

Right. Cause. Can’t last. Gotta keep moving on. Do good.

“You’re doing good,” Raph said, “You’re good.”

The good things come and then they go. And when they go it hurts more.

“Factually incorrect,” Donnie soothed, Leo didn’t know why he had his soothing voice on, “Life is sadly, wonderfully, far more complex than that. That’s why it is so important to have others help you… Which is something I have been neglecting to do.”

Everything was still so warm and comfortable, but,

“I wanna be good without help. So no one else gets hurt.”

His words got him another bite of porridge.

“You’re good,” Raph repeated again, “And it’s good to let us help you. Cause, you’re gonna help us too, right?”

Mikey was making some noise of affirmation, while Leo tried to open his eyes again. Now, he was only having trouble doing that because he was so tired.

“We help each other so we can take care of each other!” Mikey wiped something off of Leo’s cheek, “Life sometimes hurts, but that’s why we help one another, yeah?”

It still didn’t feel right. If anything, it felt like giving up. Letting others get hurt for him ever, wasn’t

“You saved us before,” Donnie said, tightening his hug, “And you’re right that we can’t take care of ourselves--I can’t even take care of myself. So, if you keep saving us, then we’ll keep saving you.”

“But… what if you…”

“Then you’ll save us. And we’ll save you.” Donnie repeated again, “Mikey’s right, that’s just how it works. If you’re worried about us, work with us and we’ll work with you.”

The turtle pile squeezed impossibly closer as Raph tightened his embrace, “We got each other.”

Well. If Raph said it, then it must be true.

That got him a raspberry from Mikey and a dramatic gasp from his twin.

Okay, he could do that. They’d have each other.

#asks #rottmnt #rottmnt fic

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absolutebl · 3 months

Text

This Week in BL - In Which None of You Should be Surprised by a MAJOR Upset in the Standings

Sorry this is so late. I had a pretty epic series of delays landing me at NRT for like 18 hours or something ridiculous. To be fair there are much worse airports to be stranded at.

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

June 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

The Rebound (Weds Gaga) ep 1 of 12 - Fuck all ya'all if you thought I had taste. MeenPing are topping this damn list because... have you any idea how LONG I have been waiting for a real sports centered BL starring at least one boy who actually played the flipping sport? My whole damn life. You ready for me to go into euphoric splooges all over your screens? I don't think you are. SUFFER! And now some splooging:

It’s off to a great start. Thank you, Rebound, for being exactly what I wanted. By which I mean Meen has his shirt off literally in the first two minutes of the show. Also it’s a bit of a childhood sweethearts reunion romance. There’s nothing wrong with this beginning. Fantastic. For a change, I even enjoy the intro music. Golf is directing MeenPing this time, so maybe something magical will happen. Frank is aging so pretty!!! How nice for all of us. Even the bb play is good. It’s a proper sports BL. I’m so damn happy right now.

Wandee Goodday (Sat YT) ep 9 of 12 - I’m so tired of Ter, but everything else was lovely. Also they are SUCH boyfriends.

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - They are so cute in these roles. I don’t know why, I just like their vibe better here than in the previous show. (And I really enjoyed Big Dragon at the start.) This show is a lot more classic romance and kind of pat because of that. I do hope the ingénue character gets some kind of additional development and talent. But even if it stays mundane, these two have the chemistry to carry it. So I suspect I’ll keep enjoying it regardless. I am mildly intrigued by the spice of the PNR element, so I hope they run with that a bit more. I suspect they will have to, to extend the plot for 12 eps.

My Stand-In (Fri iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - Ah Ming... famous last words. This one just makes me sigh a lot and whimper sadly. I don’t know where they’re going with this plot or how they’re gonna resolve it. Joe finally being the asshole Ming deserves is a lot of fun though (double entendre intended). I’m scared but it did make me cry... a lot. (That's fine, I'm a sap.)

Imma say this because no one else has. Wardrobe is unilaterally terrible in this show. I mean Thailand is notoriously bad in general but this show, nash.

We Are Cute (Weds iQIYI) ep 13 of 16 - They are so fucking adorable. And so flirty! Also a crying kiss? My favorite! Chain’s little moment of "Cupid shoot thyself" was epic. ("Physician heal thyself" but for the BL world?) Honestly, I could watch a whole show about these two...

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 1 of 12 - How does Gun still look like he’s just out of high school? Madness. Does the set for the print shop that he’s working in at the beginning remind anybody else of Mork’s dad’s place in ‘Cause He’s My Boy? I swear GMMTV has about 3 sets they rotate through.

To be brutally honest, I was not looking forward to the show at all. No idea why. OffGun aren’t my most favorite OG pair, but I respect them for their longevity, optics, acting shops, and enduring brand. Maybe I just needed more of a gap from Cooking Crush?

Whatever, I was absolutely riveted by this first episode. I’m enjoying The Trainee a lot. Like, a lot a lot.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 4 of 12 - This version did the "clear up of the inciting miscommunication" in such a sweet achey way. Frankly that "ache of first love" really plays to G4's strengths as a pair. This was a good ep and I’m now starting to enjoy this one for its own sake and get some distance from the JBL version. It's just there is A LOT of good stuff coming out of Thailand right now.

Love Sea (Sun iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - I was inspired to write a Shakespearean style sonnet in this week's trash watch. Mame seems to believe that no character can have depth without suffering. And I found this episode both boring and rushed at the same time. Trash watch here. (This week's trash watch also VERY delayed.)

Knock Knock Boys (Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 12 - It’s eminently missable... so I missed it this week in order to get this weekly update out. Next week will be a two in one.

Only Boo! (Sun YT) ep 12fin - Okay, that’s it, I guess?

Summary:

An idol romance about a sunshine boy who dances good and wants to be a star and a reserved food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks, grumpy/sunshine pair who fall in love but, of course, to be an idol baby boy can't date. It wasn’t particularly bad, it wasn’t particularly good either. 7/10

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) Ep 1 of 10 - A new series adaptation of beloved yaoi I Hear the Sunspot (first adaptation was feature film Silhouette of Your Voice 2017).

I expected the soundscapes in this one to be fantastic, but I didn’t expect the filming to be something special too. But it really is. I’m not gonna lie, I'm nervous about this show because I love the manga and was disappointed by the film, but we were off to a really good start. First names already? So cute. I love them.

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 1 of 10 - Shy awkward Taishin goes to a Tokyo university in order to reunite with Takara, a stranger who consoled him over the loss of a parrot the year prior. He finally gets a chance to express his gratitude but is given the cold shoulder. (My thoughts this weekend's round up)

I can't believe Japan is holding it down for the non Thai BL. I mean to say.... JAPAN!!! What alt reality are we living in? It being Japan, I'm scared of the ending.

It's airing but...

Blue Boys is still going on and I'm still enjoying it (despite the cheating) but I don't know when it drops or where it's going, so I will report in at the end. When they tell me it's ended.

The Last Time (Thai Fri YT?) - Convoluted story of loss and possible reincarnation or something. Can't find it.

OMG Vampire (Thai Sun ???) 10 eps - I've put the search on hold for and y'all can let me know if it's worth tracking down once it ends?

In case you missed it

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer released to Korean theaters 5/25. HoTae & DongHee, side couple from Unintentional Love Story are back! Same actors, same character names. I love them. Devastated this hasn't had international distribution. I demand you tell me the moment you find it!

Next Week Looks Like This:

NO IMG - we half way through this week already - sorry.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

July Releases to Come

7/5 This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Thai iQIYI) - trailer here, The PittBabe team behind a new restaurant set BL full of hidden agendas and starring my new favorites SailubPon. Delightful!

7/10 Century of Love (Thai Gaga) 10 eps - trailer here, DaouOffroad are back, this time as fated mates in a quasi historical paranormal moment. San has spent many lifetimes waiting for his lost beloved, to reincarnate from her death a century ago. But if he fails to find her within this century's time window, he will succumb to a tragic death. And this time she's a boy. Very much Director Who Buys Me Dinner meets First Love Again, hopefully better than both. I love this pair and think they can handle the premise, it's whether the storytelling is up to the challenge. I'm curious to see but I have reservations.

7/26 4 Minutes (Thai Netflix or iQIYI?) - Great is a university student from Faculty of Business and the son of a wealthy business owner. Out of the blue, he gains the supernatural power to see four minutes into the future.

7/29 Battle of the Writers (Thai ????) - trailer here, TutorYim return and while I adore them, I really hope this is better than Middleman's Love. Won't be hard. However: that premise! Ugh. Something something authors fighting - save me. Why don't writers understand that nothing is more boring than writers?

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Defining @heretherebedork 's favorite endearment of "tiny idiot."

I love him. I also love what a class act they both were about this turn down. Thailand shows Korea how to handle a love triangle by NOT HAVING ONE.

Both We Are.

We stand a lap sit on this blog, but I think this is my first lap spin! I adored it! (Sunset X Vibes)

It's fun to watch them follow the original narrative but with these cute little Thai twists. Sometimes these are shifted for language reasons, sometimes for cultural, and sometimes I think just to draw a clear distinction from the JBL. I'm not mad about any of it. (My Love Mix Up)

Not just for you, honey. Truer words were never spoken. Yak is the biggest green flag ever to walk BL's verdant earth.

Linguistic corner!

I love this way of putting the translation. Usually, in Thai, the phrase used means "he's my happiness" (sounds like: kwamsook). To use sabai is different. Sabai more ubiquitous (sabai is one of the most commonly used phrases in Thailand) but also so different from the usual phrase we hear in ThBL at this moment. Thus, this execution is special, particularly from a doctor. I'm not quite sure how to put it but sabai can also be translated as feeling well, as in, not ill. So there is a way of looking at Wandee saying Yak is both his peace of mind and good for his health and well being.

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in it's infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

There's these tricks, remember.

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drabblesandimagines · 10 months

Note

400 request! Leon x female reader. How they meet or first impressions.

(Also omg I’m so happy you write about resident evil too!)

Thank you, anon! I'm happy I write about Resident Evil too x Travel Pillow Leon Kennedy x female reader, fluff

Looking at the rain smacking against the tarmac through the plane window, you’re not convinced you will be taking off any time soon, despite the airline’s confidence when they’d opened the boarding gate 20 minutes ago. The last of the passengers are finding their seats in the small plane, only two seats either side of the aisle. You feel a knee bash against your thigh and you turn, seeing a handsome man with light brown hair framing bright blue eyes, jeans with a white tee and a semi-smart black jacket stood over the empty seat, looking apologetic.

“Sorry.” He rubs the back of his head, scolding himself for a bad first impression on the pretty girl he is going to be sitting next to for the next three hours. “I swear they make the leg room on these tin cans smaller and smaller every time.”

“No harm done. And, yeah, I agree - trying to get you to splurge for the emergency exit.”

“Mm, and my work won’t cover that expense.” He tugs off his jacket before he sits down, banging his knee against the upturned tray table on the seat in front and winces. “Yep, should’ve got some knee pads.”

You laugh at that and he smiles, sensing it’s genuine in nature. Makes a change.

“Name’s Leon.” He offers you his hand and you take it, giving it a shake and offering your name in return.

“Take it you’re traveling for business, then?” You probe – he’s easy on the eyes and much more interesting to look at than the rain out the window.

“Was.” He leans back, buckling up his seatbelt. “On the way home now. You?”

“Moving - starting a new job on Monday.”

“Oh, wow. Moving via plane?”

You shake your head. “Got a guy driving my stuff over in a few days. Only got the job offer Wednesday.”

“Huh,” Leon mulls. “They sound pretty keen for you.”

“Yeah, well-”

The PA system pings, interrupting you. There’s a crackle of static before a voice rings out. “Good evening, this is your captain speaking. I’m afraid we have a storm warning rolling in and, currently, we are unable to take off. As we are still at the gate and it will be a little while before we can depart, we are going to ask you to disembark.” Groans ring around the plane. “Please be sure to take all your hand luggage with you and be sure to pick up your complimentary drinks voucher from the cabin crew.”

“Bets on it excluding alcohol?” Leon asks, unbuckling his seat belt and getting to his feet as your fellow passengers follow suit - grumbling about the delay, grabbing their bags. “Got anything in the overhead?”

“Yeah.” You get to your feet, having to hunch over a little as the side of the plane slopes. “Black duffel bag.”

“I got it.”

“What a gentleman.” You smile, watching as he raises his arms above his head to reach for your bag, your eyes lingering on the way his biceps tense.

“I may have an ulterior motive.” He smirks, pulling the bag down and hanging it off his shoulder with ease. You hadn’t been exactly subtle while you had admired his arms.

“Oh?”

“Hoping you might partake in a non-complimentary drink with me.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“So, what do you do?”

You’d grabbed a cosy table for two in the corner of the airport bar, a clear view of the departures board in sight in case any news came through about your delayed flight. The complimentary drinks voucher had excluded alcohol, so you had ended up with two drinks in front of you – a soda from the airline that you’d quickly polished off, and one from your handsome seat-mate that you made sure to take your time over.

“Me?” Leon shrugs a shoulder. “I work for the government – just boring bureaucratic nonsense, wrapped up in a lot of red tape. How about you?”

“Software.”

“Guess you’re pretty skilled to be in such high demand.”

“Something like that. Just a niche area. Money was too good to say no.” It wasn’t strictly a lie. “And, if I can be so bold, no-one to leave behind?”

“Bingo.”

“Well, I feel that. No-one for me to return home to. Work keeps me too busy – can be away a few days to a few months.”

“Ah, so you don’t always flirt with women you meet on planes?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “This is just an elaborate apology for bashing your knee earlier.” “Gotcha.” You take another sip of your drink. “So, how long have you lived in DC?”

“A few years now, on and off.”

“Good, then you can tell me all of the bad coffee shops and tourist traps I need to avoid.”

Leon shakes his head, grinning all the while. “I can’t hand over that information, you’ve gotta work your way through sucky cups of coffee like every other fine resident that came before you.”

“Please?” You pout, tilting your head and he’s so tempted to give in with how adorable you look.

“Cute, but no. You’ll understand one day.”

“Not even a clue?”

“Uh-uh, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah,” he lifts his glass to his lips, trying to hide his smile. “I’m not.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about DC, then?”

He ponders for a moment. “They really like brunch.”

“Maybe…” you rest your hand on the table, wondering if you could reach out and touch his, “..you could take me for br-“

“Passengers for delayed flight AA4628 are asked to head towards gate 34 to commence boarding.” The PA system announces from above your heads. “That’s passengers for delayed flight AA4628 are asked to head towards gate 34 to commence boarding. Thank you.”

“Guess we better head back.” Leon downs his drink and gets to his feet, heaving your bag back over his shoulder.

“Mm,” you agree, downing the rest of your own and your question, and following him back to the gate.

The drink must’ve gone more to your head than you thought, especially after a frantic few days of packing, late nights from trying to get everything in order before you moved across the country because you don’t remember the plane even taking off. You wake up to your ears popping as the plane begins its descent and slowly open your eyes, wondering why the seat in front of you is at an angle. It’s then you realise you’re not upright in your own seat, instead cuddling up into someone’s chest, almost nuzzling your cheek into them, an arm draped around your shoulders.

You shoot up, the arm sliding off and you see Leon besides you, smiling sleepily, “Hey, sleepyhead.”

“I am so sorry.” You can feel your cheeks burn as you worry if you drooled, or snored or…

“What, for using me as a pillow?” He chuckles. “It’s fine. For the record, I fell asleep too so it was mutually beneficial.”

“Oh. Good.” You nod, settling back into an awkward silence as the plane continues its descent towards the tarmac and you turn your attention to the window, looking down at the place you’ll be calling home for however long.

As the plane lands and begins taxiing to the gate you wonder if you should ask Leon for his number, or give him your own. It would be nice to know someone in DC, after all. You pull your phone out your pocket, about to ask when an air stewardess appears at Leon’s side, whispers in his ear and he smiles, nods in thanks and unbuckles his seatbelt to stand, before he hesitates and turns to look at you, noting your look of confusion.

“Seems work’s been waiting for me since our delay. My boss has pulled some strings to get me off the flight first, so…” He swallows, disappointed - though he knows he shouldn’t be. He knew from the moment you started talking, despite the feeling in his stomach, that it was fantasy where he could pretend that after you’d arrived in DC, the two of you could exchange numbers and he’d take you out for the good coffee, brunch and dinner, buy you flowers, kiss you under the streetlights…

Idiot, he reprimands himself. You’re a sweet girl, too sweet for the world he’s involved in.

“It was nice to meet you.” He smiles. “Good luck with the new job.”

“Oh.” You can’t hide your disappointment as he finally stands, the air stewardess waiting to lead him back up the aisle. “Thanks. Nice to meet you too, Leon.”

He nods, once, and you watch him walk away.

You hesitate outside your new work, the building looming over you. You still don’t know how to feel about this, but how can you reject a job offer from the President of the United States? You bin the cup of coffee you’d bought from a cart in the park on the way here – mistake, curse Leon for not giving you any heads up – and walk inside, navigating through security and reception, before being told to head up to floor three where an Ingrid Hunnigan is waiting to brief you, standing by the elevator doors. She’s a smartly dressed woman, curly hair tied up in a bun and studious glasses, though she greets you with a smile and a handshake.

“Welcome to the DSO. Glad to have you – I’ve been admiring your work over the weekend.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m… It’s good to be here.” You correct.

Hunnigan doesn’t press, instead gesturing you forward. “Sorry, I promise we’ll do a whistlestop tour another time, but you’re going to be hitting the ground running this morning – we have an intel briefing at 0915.”

“We?”

“Mm – me, you and Agent Kennedy.”

You’re led to a small meeting room and told to take a seat, but Hunnigan remains standing by the door.

“Coffee? Since I haven’t had chance to give you the tour, it’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you.” You reply, taking a seat.

“Be right back.”

You fiddle with the hem of your shirt, looking around at the room – not that there’s much to take in, it’s a small, circular table with six chairs around it, a projector hanging from the ceiling and some adaptor cables poking out the middle for someone to connect a laptop.

The door opens a couple of moments later and you turn your head, eyes widening at the figure who enters.

Leon looks equally surprised for a moment before a smirk crosses his lips and he strides in, taking the seat opposite. He leans back in his chair, crosses his arms and quirks an eyebrow.

“Software, huh?”

You wake up to your ears popping as the plane begins its descent, your face resting on Leon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your shoulders and head resting atop your own – an all too familiar routine when you travel together by plane. You nuzzle your cheek into his warmth, feeling too content to open your eyes just yet when you feel him move and place a kiss upon your crown.

“Afraid it’s time to wake up, sweetheart”

“Mm, five more minutes. We can’t be landing already, we only just left the gate.” You protest.

His chuckle vibrates through your cheek. “You were out like a light before we even took off. I’m beginning to worry you only keep me around as your personal travel pillow.”

Sighing, you sit upright, trying to rub the crick out of your neck. “That, among other reasons.”

“What other reasons?”

“Hmm,” you pretend to muse, cupping his face in your palm and press a soft kiss to his lips before pressing your forehead against his. “Cos I love you.”

“Love you more.”

-- Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day! x Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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miloformula123fan · 6 months

Note

Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife reader? Where his love language is like he make sure to bring a jacket if it's cold/rain for her, cheek/temple peck. And her love language is picking up his favorite snacks/meals from the store/homemade, holding hands/lean head on his shoulder. Just domestic things. Fully fluff and romantic. Add something else to it if it's not right. Thanks!! :))

haha, between me, this anon and @leosxrealm, we have 3 simps for bono

bono is hot. that is all i will say.

i also have a bit of an angsty part 2 (because angst is kinda what i do :) )

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

peter 'bono' bonnington x female!race engineer!reader

A jacket

Bono watched as his wife walked towards the ferrari garage, and then back to the pit wall. It was raining hard here, not unsurprising for Melbourne, and it was quite heavy, so the session had been delayed. As all the other engineers were doing, they were talking to the drivers and then working on data and double checking the radar. Bono supposed he was lucky in that way, all the information was in the garage for him. For Ferrari, the data was available on the pitwall, and the radar and the driver were inside, so he was watching his wife walk backwards and forwards in the rain, with no umbrella or even a raincoat, just in her ferrari clothes which were now soaked and with her hair sticking to her face he had no idea how she was even getting straight answers out of Carlos.

He once again saw her walk out again to the pitwall and start typing. He pulled up his own mercedes rain jacket before jogging out towards the ferrari pitwall. Y/N heard the footsteps approaching her pitwall and assumed it was Xavi or another Ferrari team member needing some data. However as she turned around she was not expecting to come face to face with her husband

“What are you doing here? Trying to steal our data?” Y/N grinned as she spun around to face her husband.

“Don’t think we need it, darling” Bono grinned back at his partner.

“Sorry, which team is coming 1st in the constructors, and which is coming 3rd?” She teased.

“Darling, there’s been 2 races.” Bono sighed, this was a regular occurrence in their household.

“Still counts. Anyway, what are you doing here, if not to steal our data?” Y/N’s face slightly fell as she tried to ascertain what her husband was doing here.

“It’s raining…” Bono attempted to explain

“No shit sherlock!” Y/ explained, looking surprised and sarcastic at Bono.

“You're wet…” he tried to continue

“Well thanks darling, I now know I can always rely on my husband to give me a good compliment. Although why’d you come out of the garage if not to also get wet. All your data is inside…” Y/N looked confused and sarcastic.

Bono shook his head, thinking and laughing about his wife’s banter, before holding out the unbranded rain jacket. “For your rushing between the Ferrari garage and the pit wall. You’re gonna catch a cold.”

She looked at him and smiled before taking the jacket and slipping it over her shoulders, nearly punching Bono in the process. She grimaced before looking up with an odd soft smile on her face

“Thanks babe.” She smiled sheepishly and looked won, before dashing once again out in the rain towards the ferrari garage.

All safe and dry. Bono thought as he walked back to the Mercedes garage. Safe. Dry. and warm. That was how he liked to keep his partner.

A good luck kiss

“Hey, hey darling, before you go…” Bono approached her wife, just before the race. Lewis and Carlos were starting P5 and P6, so they were just opposite each other, so Bono worked out a way to sneak away quickly to see his wife.

“Yes, Peter?” Y/N turned away from the mechanic who had been trying to talk to her. Bono loved this about his partner, he’d often always found that he’d been talked over, but Y/N was one of the people who had always made sure that he was listened to and that his ideas were heard.

Yeah sure, Y/N sometimes snubbed other people as the Ferrari mechanic was seething over her shoulder, apparently desperate to continue talking to her, but she would never do it for him.

“Kiss for good luck?” Bono knew his puppy dog eyes were questionable, as a man in his mid 40s.

Bono smiles as he looks down on her, before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

“How can I say no to you?”

“You can’t!”

“I know.”

Picking up snacks

“So Carlos, I just wanted to discuss…”

Bono had been very sad to wake up all alone in the bed, but hearing his wife’s voice echo from the office next door made him realise what had happened.

He went into the kitchen, and pulled out the breakfast that they had been planning on having together today. He paused as he pulled it out, before pulling out the other jar, untouched. Y/N’s breakfast. He knew the meeting that Y/N was in was probably confidential, but he also knew that Y/N had been up for a while. So he shuffled into Y/N’s office and placed the jar of chia seed pudding and the spoon in front of Y/N.

When Y/N looked up to see food and spoon being placed on top of her plans, she was not sure what she was expecting to see, but it was not her partner, half asleep, without his glasses on, hair sticking up everywhere, in just a dressing gown and slippers, squinting at the minimal light that was on in the room.

‘What are you doing?’ Y/N mouthed at Bono

Bono shrugged before shuffling out of the room again.

Y/N grinned to herself, shovelling a mouthful of the chia seed pudding in her mouth before turning back to Carlos and continuing her spiel.

—

“I’m so sorry baby, they just called me at like 7am, and were like ‘we know it’s your day off but we don’t care so you have to come in’ and i’m not happy about it darling. It’s OUR day off and…” she buried her head in his chest “i wanna spend it with you.” she concluded in a small voice.

They stayed like this for 10 minutes. Y/N with her head buried in Bono’s chest, before her phone started ringing again. Her groan was muffled in his chest, but he heard both the phone and the groan that followed.

“Hey, it’s okay, baby. I’ll do some of my work today, so then tomorrow we can still have a bit of a day off, even if it is not ‘officially’ a day off.”

“Mhm,” said Y/N as she began to extract herself from Bono’s hug. Bono, pulling her off as he grabbed a bowl he’d already prepared.

“Some trail mix darling, to get you through til lunch.”

“Thank you baby.”

—

“I know the data looks good, but it’s irrelevant until we get to testing and we can compare it to Red Bull and Mercedes. Yeah the data will…”

Bono had pulled on some earphones, while on a phone call with Toto, partially so he could get work done while he made lunch. He’d also left them on to visit his wife so that if she was talking about stuff that he wasn’t allowed to hear, it wouldn’t violate their NDAS.

Bono nudged the door with his elbow, holding a plate and a drink, in his hands. Y/N looked up from the chaos of her desk, hair frazzled, bin overflowing, data everywhere. Bono cleared a small space on the desk for the glass of water, and the plate with the egg salad lettuce wrap.

She grinned, as she took a bite into the wrap, before turning back to the computer and continuing her babbling, as Bono smiled as he shut the door and returned to his own room.

—

“Darling i love your food, but this truffle pasta is not as good as ferrari’s” - Y/N

“Next time we can go to Ferrari's hospitality then, or you can have my salmon.” - Bono

“I don’t want your salmon, I want Ferrari’s truffle pasta. Wait, there’s gonna be a next time? I think we should go to Red Bull if there’s gonna be a next time.” - Y/N grinned

“Based on their catering budget i reckon their pasta will somehow rival Ferrari’s” - Bono chuckled

“Well I guess next time we shall have to see!” - Y/N flashed her cheeky grin at him, as she dived back into the pasta.

“No, next time we have to go to Ferrari and see how much better pasta we can make.” - Bono insisted

“So we have 2 more dates planned, and then…”

Y/N could feel the eyes on her bright red Ferrari jacket in a sea of black, greys and whites in the Mercedes hospitality.

But the stares and whispered comments all faded as Bono laughed at some funny joke she had mentioned the ferrari screw ups so far this season.

Watching bono talk about the few things that mercedes had ever fucked up, made all the eyes fade away.

At least until Lewis, Toto and James all sat down and started chatting to Bono about various data that Y/N was sure that she wasn’t supposed to be hearing.

Bono cleared his throat “Um, guys? Is this really the time?”

Y/N did not miss the Cheshire cat grins on James and Toto’s faces “why of course now is the time, why wouldn’t now be the time?”

“Because I’m trying to have a nice calm and peaceful lunch with my wife and…”

Y/N preened at being labelled as Bono’s wife, at least until Lewis decided to open his big mouth

“We’re here because we were trying to work out if the rumours were true.”

“What rumours?”

“The rumours that there was a ferrari spy in the open eating out truffle pasta.”

“I mean it’s not very good truffle pasta. You should maybe not make pasta, it’s kinda ferrari’s thing.”

“Right, let’s divert money from the car development into the catering budget, i suppose.” Toto mused

“Yeah, maybe some funding out of the pit crew, because they will be more motivated, if they’re being fed better.”

“Bono, can we borrow your partner for financial advice?”

“Don’t know how she’d feel about that one.”

“Nah, happy at ferrari and yelling at people for stupid strategy.” She grinned, before finishing her drink, and giving Bono a kiss on his head before wandering off

Holding hands

Y/N looked up at Bono as he slipped his hand into hers . Slightly surprised by his demonstration of public affection, she tried to send him a questioning look. But he was looking full ahead trying to belt out the British anthem. He was stuffing up the anthem, he kept singing ‘god save the queen’ instead of ‘god save the king’. Y/N instead made eye contact with Susie, who smiled and then opened her mouth when she saw the hand holding. Y/N sent a look going ‘I KNOW RIGHT?’ and then they grinned at each other before looking forward again. So neither saw the small grin that filled Y/N’s face.

---

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3

#f1 x reader #miloformula123fan #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #peter bonnington x reader #bono x reader #peter bonnington fic #peter bonnington #peter bonnington x female reader #peter bonnington x you #peter bonnington x y/n #bono fic #bono #bono x female reader #bono x you #bono x y/n

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project-sekai-facts · 2 months

Note

hello! i’m planning to make a video essay on the problems with ENsekai. i obviously have some bigger ones already, (typos, translations, etc) but i was wondering if you or anyone else in the community had some ideas of smaller bugs/problems within the game that i could touch on!

hi, sorry this response is a bit late, hope it's still okay

Here's some stuff I can think of:

There's been multiple instances of area conversations being fucked up, either them implementing straight up untranslated content which happened quite recently with a niigo Len area conversation, or just leaving it blank altogether which happened with a conversation unlocked from the current event. usually this happens with niigo for some reason.

the ads straight up don't work on some devices. i had to get a new phone recently and they work fine on it now but my old one literally couldn't handle them. it broke the UI entirely and force crashed if i tried to watch two in a row.

For some reason they sometimes do the reruns late or early. It's not really much of an issue (aside from when they reran Evillious like 3 months early), it's just a weird oddity. Like the spojoy rerun should've started a week ago and it still isn't here

The May mystery song. Got pushed back to June, pretty sure they put a tweet out about the delay but it's gone now if it did exist. Didn't release in June either with no word on it. July stream didn't even happen so god knows what's going on with it now

They keep having bugs that aren't present on JP. Falsely banning players, that thing the other day where it locked challenge lives. There's a lot more if you go through the backlog of issues.

Also they had to delay Awake Now due to "technical difficulties" when BFBY ran on EN. Not sure what those issues were.

Inconsistent song names

Using the wiki as a reference/for placeholder translations. I think they might've stopped it as of this event? But still it went on for 4 months lmao.

Okay the next ones aren't really to do with the game, moreso, the management

They were ridiculously behind on 4komas until like. Yesterday. This might be linked to staff layoffs, I know some of their social team got cut. Also just after that happened they opened applications for discord mod volunteers. Lol.

The absolutely disastrous contests. Mainly the halloween one.

For starters the halloween fanart contest was only open to players in america, canada and britain, despite being for the "global server', but also: they gave third place and promoted the account of someone who creates nsfw of the IP. Funnily enough, this was not against the rules. But, it's still a questionable decision, like this person was openly an nsfw account, and they're giving them promotion on the official twitter for an all ages game. Oh well, what can you do, they were fully within their rights on both sides.

Also p sure the cosplay contest is the only one to date that's actually been open for worldwide entries. South America keeps getting excluded.

Remember when the twitter mod made fun of the game's translations? Actually embarrassing tbh.

#asks

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acerathia · 1 year

Text

Magic Shop || S. Todoroki

Summary:

After 'accidentally' getting cursed, you seek the witch of the forest to fix this problem. Only did you not expect a beautiful man to reside there...

Wordcount: 12.4k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Witch!Todoroki Shoto / GN!Reader

Tags/CW:

witch!shoto, contractual partners to friends to lovers, pining!! lots of pining, aged-up characters, GN reader, honestly mostly vibes in the woods idk what to say, fluff, innuendos, but sfw, maybe shoto is ooc, forgive my transagression <;/3

Note:

Please note that information about witches may be inaccurate as I was only using my fantasy. And any links are safe!! Also!! This is part of the 'Haunted House Collab' by Willow's House, check out the other works!!

Your hand slaps against the surface of your ringing phone, hoping to silence it with a lucky stroke back to sleep. But that only works for a couple of minutes as it starts once again relentlessly chiming, with no way to stop it. With a groan you remember the infinite number of alarms you had set yourself the night before, your past self too aware of your strong desire to sleep overpowering your need to go to work. So you don’t have a choice, you’d like to keep your job for as long as possible, even with your current sleeping habits.

Slowly you swing your upper body up, and blink blearily, just staring into your room for a couple of seconds, just trying to force you to properly wake up. You take your phone into your hand to stop the still blaring alarm and of course every subsequent alarm after that one. You run your hands over your face, once again trying to wake yourself up before getting up. Shuffling your feet, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. A good splash in your face does wonders against this fatigue, but only sometimes, so you hope it works today.

It actually helped a bit, your eyes stinging from the direct contact with the flying water. After finishing the rest of your routine, you go back to your room and put your work clothes on, ignoring the crinkles in them, even if your hands mindlessly try to flatten them, they will eventually disappear, hopefully. You just don’t have time nor the patience to iron them out. Nobody is going to notice them underneath a blazer. A last look in the mirror tells you that you do look presentable enough to show up at work. So you grab your necessities and hurry out of the door.

You don’t hurry because you might be late, you just like to be a bit early on the street, never sure what might delay your way, a traffic jam leading every car to link its arms with each other, making any other form of transportation nigh unusable. This especially accounts for you being stuck between arms and torsos of other people, holding for dear life on a pole in the bus, trying your best to avoid falling onto the ground with every rumbling stop.

Your stop draws near, and you’re finally able to leave the suffocating transportation can, you take a second to breathe, to collect yourself once again. The shaking of the bus has almost begun to lull you back to sleep, even if you were standing with hands in a death grip. So you slap both of your cheeks and continue your way to your workplace.

At your arrival, you think that luck must be on your side, as you still have a couple of minutes until your shift starts, enough time to calm down after all that speed walk, and simply drink some water. You put your stuff into the locker and begin your work. And you hope to keep that luck running for the rest of the morning.

But it seems that your luck is already strained thin, as you mess up some of the dates by accident, inconveniencing a visitor at their work. So you hurry up to apologize for this mistake before they can ask for your boss.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. We’ll fix this as soon as possible, so feel free to take a seat, Mrs. Nukarumi,” you offer her with a smile, not moving a muscle as her face shifts at the name-drop. You don’t realize your mistake until she steps closer, a menacing aura clogging your airways. You begin to panic, but you keep your face professional, a smile, a questioning tilt to the head.

“Listen, I can excuse some mishap at work, happens to the best of us. But getting my name wrong, and to such a distasteful degree is arrogant, especially after being quite the regular at your establishment,” she puts two fingers on your forehead, her nails pressing against your skin, and now you drop your smile for a frown, as the shadow of her hand covers your face, suffocating in a way only air can be. “It’s Nakamura, and I’d like to know how you will live your life without a soul ever recognizing you.”

Her fingers begin to feel warmer with each second, and at first, you thought it might be due to the prolonged skin contact. That is until this warmth turns into heat, her fingerprints searing themselves into your skull, your skin non-existent. Some kind of pain spreads all over your facial features, not painful enough to coax out a scream, but enough to make your muscles twitch in response. At this sensation, you try your best to pull away, but you seem to be glued to her fingertips, like she’s holding the strings of your body between her knuckles with this simple touch.

You finally manage to take a step back the moment her fingers leave your skin. She seems to be satisfied with whatever she just did, as a grin spreads over her face as she glances over your face. Mischief is coloring the outlines of her lips before she just leaves without another word, not caring if the situation is fixed any time soon.

For some reason, this is the least of your worries, as you make your way to the bathroom with quick steps in search of a mirror. But the moment you stand in front of one, you can’t see anything wrong with your face, not even a small print of her fingers on your forehead. Everything looks normal and proper to you, so you just shrug it off, keen on returning to your post behind the desk.

On the walk back to your space, you come across the manager, who gives you a weird look, and you glance down at yourself, thinking your clothes might have gotten in disarray. But there’s nothing wrong with them. You still straighten your blazer a bit, which doesn’t seem to help, as he finally comes up to you.

“Excuse me, this area is for staff only,” he tells you with a warning in his voice, and you can only furrow your eyebrows at that.

“Uh, yes, I am a staff. It’s my shift right now,” you reply, confusion tinting your voice.

“Lying is useless in this case, I don’t recognize you, and I know all of my staff.” He shakes his head in some form of disappointment before threatening to call security if you don’t clear the space immediately.

Absolutely confused, you just leave the space, and even the building altogether, just heading home, because what else are you supposed to do? You got kicked out by your boss, for some strange reason, and nothing makes sense to you.

What did he say again? He doesn’t recognize you? That’s the wildest reason to kick someone out, ever. Does he want to fire you, or is he pulling some kind of elaborate prank or scheme? You honestly don’t care, you just hope you still get paid for your work.

As you have some time to spare, for obvious reasons, you decide to take a short trip to the store to get yourself some groceries, and maybe you could chat a bit with your acquaintance there, letting a couple of minutes pass in idle talk.

So you enter the store and begin collecting whatever your heart desires, and whatever your wallet allows you, before making your way to the register, where your almost friend works. You smile and greet them, hoping to be able to listen to whatever gossip they have at the moment. But they only give you the usual customer service smile, the usual greeting voice, no recognition sparking in their eyes at all.

Your chest constricts and you try to think of what you might have done to offend them, yet nothing seems to be the problem. And you could hardly bother them while they’re working, so you leave the place without inquiring any further about any possible reason.

Trudging home, you can’t help but wonder if you had done something for all of this to happen. There’s no way this day is filled with one unlucky incident after the other. There’s no correlation for this bad luck, you started your day as you do every single day. The only weird moment was with that weird woman, who just grabbed your face for no reason. But whatever she did, it didn’t work, you checked yourself in the mirror and everything looked fine to you, normal. So why does it seem like no one can recognize you?

You enter your home as the final puzzle clicks, and everything makes sense, well barely. A gasp escapes you at this revelation, and you almost throw your groceries onto the table, grabbing for your phone. With a frown, you open the front camera, seeing yourself, with every feature you know and are used to. Maybe the effect is similar to the one with a mirror?

You decide to take a picture of yourself, not focusing much on looking good, but rather on verifying your thoughts. After you take one where you’re sure your whole face can be seen, you open the gallery to click on the newest picture. But instead of a picture, you’re faced with a blurred mess. Did your hands tremble? There’s no way they moved that much while you took the picture. Still, you take another one, and another one, and another one. And all of them turn out to be blurry.

Chewing on your bottom lip you scroll further to some of the older pictures you have on your phone and they all look normal, your face still visible and clear. So there’s only one conclusion: only the ones you took today have that particular problem, so that means the woman had actually done something unexplainable to you.

With a sigh you put your phone away, driving your hand over your face. You screwed up, you accidentally messed up with the wrong person today, and now you reap the consequences. What are you supposed to do now? How could you even undo this? You can’t go to work if no one recognizes you, and you can’t just not work! You’re ruined, your life will be in shambles over a little mistake, this is so ridiculous.

Panic is running hot through your veins and you do what every sensible human being would do in such a dire situation. You take your phone and look it up, even if you don’t know how to phrase the problem properly. So it isn’t surprising when the first couple of hits you stumble across are different subreddits and medical pages about loneliness. But no matter how far you read into those, there is just no correlation between them and your current problem.

Thus, you dive deeper and you discover some shady-looking forum, all small font and 2000s style of blogging, in which you read a rather recent post.

Does the witch in that forest actually exist? Cuz I heard rumors, but no one has shown real pics smh. If yes, how do you meet them? Like, I wanna get some potions or stuff, idk

– i guess that’s one way to touch grass – that’s some witchful thinking LMAO – ofc, u just gotta go that fb page, there’s proof

Your curiosity gets the best of you and you click on the link, which turns out to be a rickroll. You don’t know if you’re supposed to laugh or groan in frustration. The only upside of this is that you had gotten some form of lead to… something. You’re not quite sure what the whole witch thing is about, but if there’s smoke, there must be a fire. At least you hope so, because it’s the only thing that could solve your problem at the moment. You’re pretty sure the woman put some kind of curse or spell on you, there’s no other way to achieve this kind of effect.

Naturally, you’re going to look for that witch now. You have quite some free time left, so maybe there is some upside to that too…

Trying to be positive about the whole predicament, you trade your current clothes for something more robust, something suitable to endure a visit to the forest. The place mentioned in the post isn’t that far from your living place, so you plan to walk there, getting some blood running to prepare you for the worst.

With a bottle, your phone, and whatever is necessary for your trip, you leave the building. Your phone in hand, you try to discover the fastest way to these woods to avoid losing time.

Finally arriving at the entrance of the forest, you decide to take the already existing paths, leisurely walking along them. And you have to admit it has taken you some time to realize something important in your current endeavor: there’s no way a witch is going to be living on the equivalent of a main street of the forest. No one would do that if they’re actively trying to get by without notice, and witches don’t want people to know where they live. That’s like, their lore or something.

This makes sense, and you nod to yourself, convinced by your own logic before you step off the path. At first, you paid attention to where you put your foot down, careful to not destroy any plants or to get stuck somewhere. But after a while, you simply forget to look at the ground and where you’re going. As a result it shouldn’t be a big surprise when one of your feet gets caught in something, you’re not quite sure what, because the moment you topple over you immediately begin to roll down a hill.

Scrunching your face, you brace yourself for the upcoming impact, hoping sincerely you won’t get knocked against a rock or a stump, breaking something or injuring you in any other way.

Nothing happens. Slowly the rotations come to a stop and you feel your back thud against the ground one last time, even if you still feel the turbulence in your head.

After taking a couple of seconds to get your head straight, you hesitantly open your eyes, only to glance at the face of another person. And for a moment you feel like nothing is real, he’s beautiful. Soft plush lips, slightly agape in surprise, eyes widened and sparkling in the early afternoon sun, and you need to look a couple of times back to notice the different colors, gray and blue, a storm separated from its lightning. His lashes brush against his smooth skin on one side, and against a burn mark on the other, as he blinks, trying to understand what just happened.

You immediately close your eyes again, hoping to fool him into thinking you had passed out, even if he probably saw you staring at his face like a fish out of water.

A slight chuckle, air fanning over your face, tells you that he is no fool. So you have no other choice but to take a breath and to slowly sit up, avoiding looking into his eyes with all your might, even if you’re compelled to look at him just a while longer.

Instead, you start looking around and you notice that you have fallen onto the edge of a beautiful meadow, flowers sprouting all around you, colors bursting underneath the late afternoon sun. The wind dancing between the petals. The delightfulness of this place fills you in awe, and it only grows bigger when you glance back at him, seeing the perfect man sitting underneath the rays of the sun, the wind ruffling his red and white hair playfully. You think about how it feels to touch this cloud in the afternoon sun.

That is until you finally register his gaze lingering on you. Your eyes widen in surprise and you can’t look him in the face anymore, once again. Nerves get the best of you, as you realize that he must have caught you staring at him and you fiddle with your fingers before you gather some courage to talk to him.

“Uhm, sorry for that, heh… You might be wondering why I’m here, and honestly you won’t even remember me when I’m gone, which is for the best I’m not going to lie. But I still wanted to ask, and I know it’s a weird question, but honestly, my whole day has been so weird, you can’t even believe it. What I mean is, do you happen to know where maybe, just maybe, where the witch of this forest is? I kinda got into that situation and I need help…” After getting everything off your chest, you take a second to take a breather.

“Oh, yes, I know where the witch is–”

“Really? Wow, that’s cool, rad, cool, cool! Oh, do you mind telling me? That would be awesome, for real,” you interrupt him, leaning forward in an outburst of excitement, once again just staring at his face

“No, I don’t mind. It’s simple really. The witch is here,” he answers, and if you’d known it better, you could have sworn to see some mischief glinting in his eyes.

But you’re too distracted, squinting your eyes trying to see anyone else in this open meadow. The witch can’t be hiding in such an open space, so you turn around to look behind you.

You jut your lips out when you couldn’t see anyone in the near distance. “Where? There’s no one here?”

The corners of his lips raise slightly. “Well, because we’re the only two people here, the best conclusion is that I’m the witch, is it not?”

You can only nod slowly, mouth agape and eyes roaming over his figure once again. Now that he mentions it, if you focus a bit on his blue eye, the one seemingly illuminating and softening his scar, you could discern symbols circling his iris, whispering secrets only he is to know.

It takes you a moment to bring these two concepts together, as this turn of events just swept you over in a cold rush. Even if you’re going to be honest with yourself, what did you expect? Some beautiful woman with long black hair, miraculously emerging from the waters of some shallow pond? This probably is your sign to read less fantasy… Does it count as fantasy if witches are apparently real?

You blink and push this thought away, this is really not the time to contemplate the structure of your world. So you take a breath, trying to formulate your thoughts more coherently this time.

“Oh, okay. Uhm, so… hold on, no, how am I supposed to call you? Because there’s no way I’m calling you a witch for, I don’t know how long, but that doesn’t matter… Uhm,” you veer off topic before just introducing yourself in the same breath.

Wow, you did amazing, you should pat yourself on the shoulder, because how can someone start at a point and finish at the wrong place? You bite on your bottom lip, slightly crunching your face. But the moment he says your name, the strain seems to melt off, you’re so taken aback by how elegant your own name sounds from his mouth.

“Nice to meet you, I suppose you can call me Shoto.”

With a nod, you do your best to memorize his name and to replace the imaginary picture of a witch with a replication of him, sitting between the flowers, and you’re aware that your memory could never truly replicate this look, this moment; it always be something faded compared to this, and you curse your insufficient brain capacities. Until you remember the actual reason you came looking for him.

“So, Shoto. I need your help, you know, as the witch, because, uh, I don’t know if you noticed already, but I guess someone cursed me? For some reason. Unrelated to anything really…” you laugh nervously and avoid his gaze “Like no one is able to recognize me, which is weird! I look normal in mirrors, but not in pictures? And, uh, see, I kinda need my face to work, you know? Is there something you could do to help me? You’re my last resort, pretty please?” You had hurried to explain your reasons for arriving at this place before the silence between you could even start, or worse, before he got the time to just stand up and leave.

He leans back and his eyes glance over your face, examining you, and you notice how the contrast between his eyes seems to grow for a moment; one almost glowing eerily while the other darkens to reach the depth of the universe. It feels like you’re in the presence of a supernova, a star about to burst by its seams.

But the moment he blinks with a nod the moment is gone, almost like it never was any different. At least he looks like he found whatever he’s looking for, the curse probably.

“I will help you. But in exchange I do need you to aid me in the time it takes me to break this particular spell,” he sets his condition and slightly cocks his head to the side, waiting for your response.

A wide grin splits your face as he agrees to help you. excitement thrumming through your veins at the prospect of working with an actual witch, and even getting rid of this problem altogether. But you still take your time to weigh the choices in your head.

You don’t really have another choice, do you? Because if you refuse, what are you supposed to do? It’s either you help him with his potions, whatever that requires of you, you’re ready to even give your blood for this, or you just suffer for the rest of your life under this horrid curse of unrecognition. Even if you have to admit that this condition of yours could be a real killer in the shady business of the underground, assassinations, break-ins, or whatever illegal activities they entertain. No one would ever be able to catch you, as you practically have no face to be identified by. If you only possessed more usable skills to pursue this potential path of corruption, but you don’t. So you only truly have one choice left.

You readily agree to his terms, on your own condition, you want to be able to go home at the end of the day. You’d like to enjoy your sleep if you involuntarily have to miss work. With the same reasoning, you promise him to come back tomorrow before you’re already on your way home. You hadn’t noticed how late it already was, because the meeting didn’t feel like it took hours off your day. But who are you to judge the sun for packing up a bit earlier, at least it’s still bright enough for you to walk on your own. And on your trek home, you see his captivating eyes every time you blink, almost being able to feel the difference in temperature, coals and ice, hot and cold.

They haunt you, no matter how often you shake your head to get rid of them. You do have bigger problems to concentrate on. But your worries vanish once you land on your bed, all washed up and in clean clothes. The short hike seems to have taken a toll on you, or maybe the revelation of the whole situation, as you fall asleep as soon as you could even think of sleep.

The next morning you wake up all sore, and you whine into your pillow, already despising the possibility, the simple thought of getting up. Yet you sit up and grab your phone to tell your boss that you’re sick. Which technically isn’t a lie, if something does belong in that section, then it’s a curse for sure, and it’s the best option to not get kicked out again, or fired for not showing up to work.

With that you pat yourself on the back for finding a solution to that particular problem, and for giving yourself at least a week to solve this mess. If it doesn’t work out by then, you’d have to get a doctor’s notice, and you honestly doubt that a doctor can diagnose you with this if they even can recognize anything in the first place.

One problem out of the way, you go through your morning routine to head out to start solving the main problem. You put on some proper clothes for this trip, and this time you’re not keen on not tumbling down a hill, and being aware of the hill in the first place will definitely make it a lot easier.

The way to the meadow turns out to be a lot easier once you know the way, and as a consequence, you gain fewer bruises on the way down. You’re glad for that because the ones you earned yesterday throb every time they get touched, even by the barest breeze. But you will survive this horrendous pain, everything to reach your goal of getting rid of this curse.

If only everything is as easy as you wish it to be. Because the moment you arrive at the border of the meadow, you encounter another problem: Shoto isn’t here today.

You curse under your breath while glancing around the empty open space. What are you supposed to do now? You can’t just walk aimlessly and shout his name into the darkness of the woods. That would be stupid, you don’t know what lurks in its insides, and you’d like to avoid disturbing the wildlife and him, probably, if he is actually living in this forest.

Should you just take a seat in the middle of the meadow? Would he be able to see you from wherever his residence is? Once again you curse, but this time at your inability to plan forward, because you really should’ve asked for some details, but for some reason, his agreement seemed enough for you to just up and leave. Now it is obvious how you didn’t think any of this through.

With a sight, you lightly kick the ground. After you take one last look over the meadow, you decide to walk up the borders of the open space in hopes of finding some sort of hint about his possible whereabouts.

It takes you some time to come across a small river, water glistening clearly under the sun. and you decide to follow it on a whim. Honestly, this is probably the next best thing, because everyone needs some form of water, and this forest has no lake, so the river makes absolutely sense.

The flowing water leads you deeper into the woods, but you can’t actually get lost if you just follow the river in the opposite direction, so you’re not really worried about that.

This decision turns out to be the right one because after some time you spot a cottage in the near distance. Surrounded by bushes and the ivory sparkles under the rays of the sun breaking through the ceiling of leaves. As you step closer, leaving the river behind, you’re able to see the veranda filled with all different kinds of plants in pots, hanging, standing, thriving. You think you can even discern some form of garden on the other side of the building, but you decide to stop in front of the door rather than visit that small space. Who knows how a witch is able to protect their place.

Before you even think about knocking, you note how this place doesn’t look like what you expect of a lair, but honestly, you don’t have any other visual than the gingerbread house, and to be fair, that’s a fairytale and as much as Shoto looks like he came straight out of one, there’s no connection between these two. Not that it matters, you’re certainly not a kid, so you doubt he would eat you, which is unlikable in the first place.

You raise your fist to finally knock on the wood of the door, but before your knuckles could even connect with it, the door actually opens, and you make eye contact with Shoto. You slowly lower your fist and notice how he’s holding a basket in his hand, eyebrows raised in silent surprise. For a moment you both just look at each other in confused surprise until he finally starts speaking.

“Oh, good morning. I didn’t expect you to be here so early. Come in,” he steps aside to fully open the door, inviting you into his home.

With hesitation you step inside, looking around as curiosity tempts you with its soft claws. A smell of a mix of herbs wafts in front of you as you inhale. There is a small seating arrangement, a loveseat, a sofa, an armchair, all resting on top of a soft carpet, inviting you to sit on the ground and enjoy some tea or read a book.

Connected to that space is an open kitchen, to which he heads to, and you hurry to follow his lead. It takes you a moment to take your shoes off, so you can’t help but follow his path carefully, too scared to accidentally disturb this calm space of his.

His home seems rather normal, but once again, what did you expect? Some kind of massive cauldron, some random stuff hanging off the ceilings, or body parts in a mysterious liquid? You should’ve expected this, this is just a normal cottage in the depths of the forest, the only exceptional thing, or person, is Shoto, and you don’t mean him being a witch.

Once you arrive in the space of the kitchen, he motions you to sit at the table, and you do, your expectations getting the best of you and waiting for some form of grimoire to thud onto the table. But nothing of that sort happens, he just sits on the opposite side, leaning his chin in his hand and just looks at you with slightly furrowed brows and a small pout on his lips.

You try your best to stay silent, even if the urge to say something is getting stronger with the second, but you withstand his piercing gaze resting on your hot skin. You bite on your tongue to swallow your question down. Especially when his eyes begin to emit a low light once again, all stormy weather, dark clouds shrouded in lightning.

It abates the moment he hums. “I see. Well, I guess I am able to undo this spell, but we both don’t know anything about the workings of the spell, it probably will take me some time to fix the proper counterspell. For that, I need your presence. Should we get started?” He leans back, his eyes glowing under the sunlight, but this time it feels a lot softer, less like magic and more like a fairy tale.

The next thought you have is filled with indignation because he just assumed you don’t know anything about the spell. Well you don’t, but it’s about the assumption itself, not the fact that you have no idea about this craft. So you can’t really say anything in your defense, because there’s nothing to defend but your pride, and it’s not worth it at the moment.

“Sure thing, but I have to let you know: I know how that woman put this spell on me, and… uh…” you start confidently, only to peter out, not knowing how to continue this trail of thought.

Despite that, he does seem surprised by that in some way, indicated by the way his eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so? Would you mind telling me?”

You almost think to hear some sort of accusation in his tone, but you have no reason or idea why that might be. So you just shrug it off before delving into a short explanation of the events that had occurred to you, until you recount the first meeting with him. Of course, there are some details you omit, because you’d rather not embarrass yourself in front of such a graceful person, because he’s a witch, not because you think he’s so beautiful you might turn blind if you look at him for an extended period of time, that would be ridiculous. Also, telling him about your fall is just unnecessary to the plot of this story, isn’t it?

He nods, eyes telling you that he realizes the omission, but he doesn’t comment on it. At least he seems like he understands more about the situation than you, simply from the description of whatever she had done to you, from whatever you had felt.

“This does help quite a bit. Doesn’t make the process much faster, just easier. Not that it matters, I’m qualified to undo this spell either way.” He stands up and begins to open the cabinets, rummaging through their insides before pulling out a notebook and a pen.

There’s no way this is his spellbook. The place where he keeps his most secret, most important spells. It looks like any ordinary notebook from the store, and it probably is, considering how normal everything looks. Maybe he has a special way of safekeeping?

You squint and stare at the notebook, trying to discover something hidden, but the only thing you see is how Shoto is writing some stuff down, the signs clear and elegant.

Only occasionally does he look up, eyes roaming over your face without sitting still on anything in particular. You doubt he could even if he wanted to.

And now your thoughts wander to the possibility that he would actually want to look at you, how his gaze would soften when caressing your skin, the sun sparkling against his dual-colored eyes, making them glisten with adora–

No, you have to stop here, or you’re not going to survive his presence in the upcoming brewing sessions. Healing sessions… Yeah, healing sessions, because he’s healing your hurt ego, getting rid of your predicament. There’s nothing else to call them. Uncursing? Spell Deletion? No, that sounds ridiculous. Healing sessions sound like some form of therapy, and being in the forest is kind of therapeutic, well, his presence sure is. Not that the name matters, you’re never going to talk about it with anyone, ever.

You blink a couple of times to come back to reality, only to make eye contact with him and your breath hitches. You do your best to act casual and prop your elbow onto the back of the chair but you slip and you have to catch yourself with a jerk.

A nervous laugh escapes you and you lean back, crossing your arms in front of your chest to get rid of your fidgeting. You avoid looking into his eyes this time, focusing on the fringe falling onto his forehead, red and white braiding into each other seamlessly.

He doesn’t even bother to say anything about what just happened and just goes straight to business. “Here’s what we’re going to do in the next few days,” he starts explaining like you just didn’t utterly embarrass yourself in front of him. “I doubt a counterspell will work without consequences because we don’t know the exact working of your curse, even if I have a good idea of it. Still, I don’t want to risk it, so I’m simply going to brew a potion, which will wear it out until it disperses on its own. That means we have to go out and collect some necessary materials. We’re going to do that later though, as there are some preparations I have to make first.”

With that, he closes his notebook and leaves it on the table as he stands up. He motions you to follow him and you leave the house at his heels.

Outside he pulls some sort of platter from below a table and hands it to you before he kneels on the ground in front of a pot in the form of a long rectangle. Inside it is a green plant, stalks spreading out like rays of the sun, leaves tiny and feather-like.

“These are Maidenhair Ferns, also called The Hair of Venus. They could have some effect on your current condition, but we have to dry them first for their potency to unfold. I’m going to take care of the cutting of the plant and I ask you to put them neatly onto the platter. That way we can continue our work at a faster rate,” he explains, his gaze only brushing over you before leading his focus back onto the plant in front of him.

You nod, even though you’re not sure he could register this movement with the way he’s intently looking at the leaves of the ferns. You still take a seat by his side and put the big plate on your lap, ready to receive the first leaves and stems.

At first there isn’t a lot for you to do, so you’re busy looking around, taking in the sights of the forest, enjoying the sun on your face, but soon enough you start taking the stalks filled with neat leaves and arrange them properly on the plate, trying to avoid stacking them as much as possible.

Luckily, he doesn’t pick that many plants for you to even begin thinking of that possible problem too much. With a platter covered with just the right amount of leaves, he finally turns around to face you.

“We need to pluck the leaves from the stem because each part is different, and will need a different time to properly dry. We only need the leaves for the potion, but I’d hate to waste the rest,” he murmurs, his long, nimble fingers already running along the stem of one of the plants, picking the leaves off with careful fingertips, barely staining his nail beds in the process.

You proceed to take one fern in your hand, trying your best to imitate him and to rip the leaves at the right spot and not rip them apart accidentally. Sticking your tongue slightly between your teeth in concentration, you manage to not destroy the first fern, even if the process has gotten a bit messy, your fingers turning slightly green. You begin to understand why people who garden have a ‘green thumb’.

You both work in a comfortable silence for some time, simply enjoying the repetitive motion. Before you even dare to think about standing up, you both make sure that everything is properly separated and not layered. Just then you stand up and follow him around the corner to some sort of backyard. You reckon this is the place you glanced at earlier. There’s a table standing out in the open, and he motions you to put the platter you were carrying onto its surface. In that position, the sun is going to dry them for you, essentially doing the work for you.

The moment your hands are free, you get the urge to stretch into the rays of the sun, your blurry, lidded gaze glancing over the edge of the open space between the bushes. And that’s where you spot it. A beautiful deer.

With a silent gasp, you blindly try to tap Shoto on the shoulder, accidentally brushing against his jaw in your hurry. Normally you would apologize, but you don’t dare tear your eyes away from the deer, much less make a noise, in fear of it disappearing without a trace. The doe, you correct yourself, as it lacks any form of horns.

“Oh,” you hear Shoto say softly under his breath, finally spotting the deer too.

For a moment you both just stay silent, not daring to even move too much, simply enjoying the mesmerizing sight of a doe under the shining sun, framed by the lush green of the forest. That is until the deer just turns around and jumps away like it just doesn’t care about you both just staring at it in awe.

You release a small puff of air, some tension releasing as you had been too caught up in the moment. Turning around in his direction, you regret even breathing the second you lock eyes with Shoto, his face closer to you than you had anticipated. It seems like you both have moved closer in that short moment, huddling together for some reason at the mere sight of the doe.

Your eyes jump over his dark eye to the lightning blue one, electrifying you like a summer storm, and you wonder if he’s gotten hit by lightning itself, resulting in these mesmerizing eyes, and the scar around that bright eye, the only blemish on his smooth, soft looking skin. Maybe it’s connected to his powers, to these symbols deep inside the blue, unreadable to you.

To avoid staring at his scar, your gaze travels over his high cheekbones to his plumb lips, and you could almost imagine them quirking slightly, the moment before he reveals a true laugh of joy out of his soul. This thought startles you and you immediately take a step back, bumping into the corner of the table.

A low whimper escapes as you double over, clutching your wounded side in a dramatic manner. At least now you’ve got a reason to avoid looking at him, to avoid getting lost in all these daydreams about him and…

“Are you okay? Did you hit a sensitive spot?” he asks, worry tinting his voice as he puts his hand softly on your back.

You nod at first before you begin to shake your head, these two questions colliding in your head, all while you try to ignore the possible innuendo. If you step into that territory of thought, you might as well run into the woods and bury yourself in some random cave, to never face him again.

The pain slowly abates after you take a couple of breaths to calm yourself down. It’s going to form a bruise, which isn’t that big of a deal, but you wish it wouldn’t feel like something had impaled your guts.

Straightening up, you show him a thumbs up, even if his slightly furrowed eyebrows and jutted lips show that he isn’t quite convinced. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to fight you over that, so his hand leaves your back. The spot is suddenly so cold, and you can’t help but miss the warmth of his skin, even through clothing.

You try your best to divert his attention away, and maybe yours too, as you look around, in particular to avoid looking at his face. You spot some form of wooden fence, probably a small garden, and you step in its direction with a craning neck to see what he could have planted there.

“Oh, is that a garden? What did you put there? Do you sustain yourself like that? How do you know what soil to use for what plant? Are these to eat or just for your potions?” These questions pour out of your mouth, the perfect distraction for you both as you don’t have to pull out some random question out of nowhere. And you’re genuinely interested.

He seems to have noticed your attempt at distraction according to his rising eyebrows, but he still indulged you and steps closer to the high edge of the garden and you join him close behind him.

With a soft voice he starts explaining the use of each herb, each fruit and plant, patiently pointing toward them, all while mentioning neat little details, like their harvest season, how picky certain plants are. And you can’t help but be captivated by his knowledge and the way he shares it. Even if you sometimes break out of the immersion of his voice when your eyes begin to roam over his face instead of listening.

Time passes with you both kneeling in the soft grass and inspecting the little space filled with love. You only notice how late it has gotten with the way your eyelids feel heavy, your gaze unfocusing and hazy. And as much as you’d love to just take a nap in the middle of the grass under this beautiful weather, you have to get home before that.

So with a goodbye and a promise to return tomorrow, you make your way home, the way easier to walk as your body starts to memorize the path. You could say you could find the way to the cottage in your sleep with how tired you currently feel.

It’s no wonder you barely remember getting ready for bed, much less going to sleep because your brain is practically already out of commission before that happens.

The next day you wake up with a satisfied groan. You’ve never felt this refreshed in your life before, and when you glance at the time, you startle, realizing why. You’ve overslept, you’re late for work! You immediately stand up, heart beating a frenzy in your chest and your arms tremble slightly. With a sudden rush, you remember how you had taken sick leave just yesterday, and you slump back onto your bed.

With a shaken sigh, you sink back into your pillow. You could have slept a bit more, but it seems like your internal clock was keen on terrorizing you today. And with that rush of adrenaline, you might as well stay up and get ready to visit Shoto today.

You take your time to eat breakfast and just enjoy the silence of your home before you make yourself ready for the way. You also check on the state of your food, in case you need to get some groceries. But you don’t, so you clean your place a bit before heading out.

And once again you step through the same path you’ve been visiting the last few days, and you wonder if it would inevitably become some sort of established path with the amount of walking you’ve been doing between the same couple of trees. Maybe you should start changing the route a bit the next couple of times.

You arrive in front of his door and this time you’re able to knock on the door before it’s ripped open, and you startle by the look Shoto throws out of the door, all narrow eyes and downturned lips, almost resembling a snarl. You hesitate in asking if something is wrong. His eyes blink before recognizing you, in the widest sense, and his whole face seems to almost soften. With no exchange of words, he steps to the side and opens the door for you to step in.

Mirroring the day before, he makes way for the table and sits down, waiting for you to do the same. And you do, because you’ve been walking closely behind him.

His notebook is already open on the surface of the table, and he leans slightly forward. “The leaves of yesterday still need some time to fully dry, so today we should go out and collect some other stuff I mentioned yesterday. Is that alright with you?”

You would do anything to get rid of that curse on your face, so of course it’s alright with you, and you nod to show him that. He also nods in confirmation before closing his notebook and grabbing a basket to put whatever you will collect today inside.

While he is doing that, you hurry to the door to open it up for him, even bowing slightly with a grin across your face and the moment he passes by you, you think to see a small smile on his lips, amusement sparkling clearly in his face.

After closing the door behind you, you follow him to take his side as he ventures deeper into the forest. His steps are purposeful, and you’re sure he knows where to find the target material. Still, you wish you could help with whatever he’s looking for, but you doubt you would be able to recognize it even if he told you the name of it. Despite that, you’re happy to listen when he starts talking, explaining what he’s looking for.

“I have some vague idea of what could help against your current ailment. Right now, I’m looking for a Bird’s Eye…” he trails off as he seems to have spotted something.

This revelation confuses you. What does he mean with a Bird’s Eye? Is he going to pluck the eyeballs of some poor bird? Is that something he usually does? He doesn’t seem like the person to entertain such thoughts. You want to ask him if there’s another way, but he had vanished between some bushes.

You swallow down the tremble in your throat and fight through the shrubbery to catch up to him. You emerge a couple of steps next to the spot he’s bending over. With some paces to place yourself at his side, only to see him hold some sort of purple plant delicately between his fingers. Petals growing upward the long stem to a soft point. A lavender plant… A Veronica… And suddenly you feel stupid for still assuming something without real proof. Still, you can’t help the relieved breath you let out.

Straightening up, Shoto shoots you a look, all hidden crinkles, and creasing eyes, almost like he’s making fun of you, like he’s amused at your obvious relief. “Seems like you had expected something else, didn’t you?” he asks, his gaze resting somewhere on your cheek.

“Uh, what else am I supposed to think? Telling me, ‘oh yeah, we need some bird’s eye’, doesn’t sound like, I don’t know, like you’re about to pluck an eyeball? How am I– hold on, did you do that on purpose?” you gasp at your own accusation. “You did! That’s so mean of you, I can’t believe you would use my trust like that!”

You pout slightly, even if you doubt he could see it properly, so you cross your arms in front of you to show your stance on things right now, even if you’re aware that you look overly dramatic. But that’s the point.

Your stance doesn’t seem to affect him, because you suddenly hear a light chuckle escape his lips, and when you glance at his face, you can clearly see how his lips quirked up in a silent laugh, all soft and delicate.

While you’re staring at him, you’re suddenly glad he can’t see your face clearly, because you probably look stunned, amazed, stupefied, and every other word to describe the way your eyes widen and your mouth standing slightly agape.

His eyes wander over your face, eyebrows scrunched up as if he wants to see whatever the fog is hiding behind that blur. Whatever he’s looking for doesn’t seem to be there, because the frown only deepens before he turns back to the flower in his hand, putting it carefully into the basket.

“These are the flowers we’re looking for. Do you mind picking some up?” he asks, already doing so himself, inspecting each one carefully to only select the ones most fitting.

You nod and diligently begin to pick the ones you seem worthy, collecting them into some sort of bouquet in your other hand. After a while, your hand is barely able to hold onto more, and you’re quite content with the look of your makeshift bouquet. Not being able to resist the urge, you tap him on the shoulder and hold it under his nose.

“Please accept this!” you say dramatically, acting like you just confessed your undying love to him, but you couldn’t stay serious long enough to wait for his response, especially after seeing his raised eyebrow. You burst into laughter. “Sorry, sorry! I just thought it looked like a bouquet, so–”

“Oh, so you wanted to offer me the Eye of a Bird? How romantic,” he drawls, his mouth puckered and eyebrows high on his forehead. Only the gleam in his eyes seems to betray his serious stance.

You nod with a muffled giggle. “The peak of modern romance, of course! You deserve nothing less than the best.”

He takes the flowers from your outreached hand and inspects them, acting too critical of your offering before nodding in approval. “I shall accept these, but only this time.”

You gasp, a hand over your heart. “Only this time? My good sir, then I shall prepare something more glamorous, something you can’t refuse for the next time!” you declare with a boisterous voice and a puffed chest.

Once again his lips purse in consideration. “Well, I don’t know if this is possible, there won’t be a next time, that’s for certain. You shan’t woe me this easily.”

“We shall see how this turns out,” you puff with arrogance, only to break down in little giggles.

The moment you break the immersion, he too breaks his facade with a broad smile, pearly teeth on display and eyes crinkling with happiness and mischief. With the breeze ruffling his hair he looks like the image of pure bliss.

His obvious happiness makes you smile, and you have to catch yourself before you let out a dreamy sigh. You have no other choice but to break the line of sight, lest you do something you might regret, especially with the way your insides feel all soft and malleable at his sight, full, ready to give something to always enjoy the way he seems to be in such peace. But you can’t give in, no matter how much your heart seems to plead with your senses. You should not do this, you shouldn’t even think like this in the first place.

So you redirect all your focus into picking the perfect flowers, paying close attention to the details. With that, you both slowly fill the basket, and before you know it, the evening sun is shining through the leaves, putting everything in a soft orange glow.

The full basket has gotten quite heavy and you both decide to share the burden, each one of you grabbing a side of the handle to carry it together. This arrangement is there to make it easier for you both, so no problems should arise. Even if the path you’re taking is narrow in some passages and trying to get through them together, side by side, his shoulder ends up bumping, brushing against yours more often than not. And every time this contact happens, you do your best to not flinch away or to think too closely about the warmth he radiates; avoiding leaning closer to him than you already are.

Finally, you arrive at the cottage and you feel like you have lost all breath in your lungs, most of it evaporating by the simple look at him, by the simple brush. Despite needing some space, you continue to help him carry the basket to some sort of designated space inside the house. And once you get rid of that weight, you stretch your arms above your head, hearing a silent yet satisfying crack.

Feeling the need to rest outside, even if you just were under the open sky, you take some slow steps out of the door, because you desperately need a moment to breathe without being scared of brushing against him.

That’s how you end up sitting on his veranda. The sun had already set and darkness is swallowing the forest, which is now filled with entirely new noises and movements. Despite the lack of light and the unknown biting at your toes, you don’t feel unsafe or in danger, rather the silence and the cool breeze have a calming effect on you.

With a roaming look into the sky, you notice the amount of stars visible against the deep blue of the night. Without any trees obstructing your sight and no artificial lights destroying their twinkle, you can’t help but be entranced with them. You’re so fixated on their beauty that you almost miss Shoto taking a seat by your side.

For a moment you both stay silent, arm against arm, shoulder against shoulder, knee brushing a thigh, and this time you don’t even dare to hold your breath. You feel the desire to lean against him, to feel his breath flutter against your skin. But you’re satisfied with this moment, with the way he seems to glow under the stars, giving him a halo of silver light.

Only because you’ve been staring at him do you notice when he stretches his hand into the sky and lets his finger connect individual stars into constellations. You squint, trying to see the lines from your perspective but you struggle a bit as everything is shifted, so you don’t even know which stars are connected despite following the way his finger moves.

He seems to notice your struggle, as he scoots closer, his front now almost touching your back, his head hovering over your shoulder to get down to your height. After settling like that he carefully grabs your fingertips and waits for you to pull away or to react in any way to show him your rejection, but you don’t. You rather marvel at how soft his skin feels against yours in that feather-light touch.

His hand leads your fingers to make a fist with only your index finger pointing out. With your hand like that, he rests his palm against the back of your hand, on your wrist. Positioned like that he slowly begins to show you the constellations with your own finger, all while making sure it’s visible from your perspective. While guiding you, he softly murmurs their names and the planets and stars, explaining everything and yet nothing, because you’re almost too focused on his breath against your face, the way his chin brushes against your shoulder, and you try your best to not turn around to directly face him.

After some time you do begin to relax and to enjoy all this information and the light contact. You end up leaning against his torso, his cheek resting on your head, and you both remain like that for some time, simply soaking in the presence, the silence and the warmth between you.

So it’s no wonder how you barely notice the atmosphere wrapping around you, lulling you into something peaceful and welcoming.

You only notice how gone you were when the sun's rays hit your face softly, waking you up with their soft kisses, and you can’t even be mad at being woken up like that. It is comfortable and warm. Still, the moment you open your eyes, you startle slightly at the sight of the unfamiliar, yet familiar ceiling. You slowly sit up and a patchwork blanket slides off your shoulders to bunch around your waist.

With a quick look at your surroundings, you realize where you are: the cottage. And with that realization you put the pieces together: You fell asleep on him, while stargazing, while holding his hand.

You bury your face in your hands, embarrassment flooding your ears. You hope you didn’t mumble, or worse, drool in your sleep. Or you might simply never look him in the face again.

Peaking between your fingers, you spot him in the open kitchen, silently working on something over the stove, his back turned towards you.

“Breakfast is almost done. You can freshen up a bit, I put some clothes that might fit you in the bathroom,” his voice sounds and you flinch, surprised he had noticed you being awake. “It wasn’t difficult, you made quite some noise.”

You frown, jutting your lips out. Is he reading your thoughts? Is that one of the abilities of witches? You sure hope it isn’t, or else he would know about everything that had crossed your mind in his presence… You desperately want to avoid this possibility, but it can’t hurt to try. So you think of something so stupid, so outrageous, he has no choice but to react.

I couldn't read the witch's handwriting at all, she always wrote in curse-ive.

You almost hit your own face with a groan, but you keep your gaze on his back, trying to see if this entices any form of reaction out of him. But nothing happens and you just sigh, even if you’re still curious how he had guessed your thoughts to that degree. Maybe you should ask him later…

A shrug and you stretch the last bit of heaviness out of your limbs before you grab the blanket to fold it and to put it neatly onto the sofa you’ve been sleeping on. It would be rude to leave it crumbled like that, especially after he put the effort to carry… you… For a moment you stop in your tracks and just blink blanky at the blanket in front of you.

He carried you… and put a blanket over you… He carried you…?

This realization hits you like a swinging bat and you have to bite on your lower lip to suppress a gasp. Your eyes jump to his figure, making sure he’s not looking at you, his back still turned towards you, and you slowly make your way to the bathroom, your joints feel like they’re locked up and creaking like a bad oiled machine.

Once you arrive in the bathroom, you close the door behind you and lean heavily on the sink. You feel like you just gave yourself some serious whiplash. So, with a deep breath, you begin to splash your face with cold water, trying to calm yourself down before you turn around to look at the clothes he had prepared for you. Holding the shirt in front of you, you decide that it will fit you even though it might be a bit loose, but you can’t complain about that.

With that you change into the fest pair of clothes, folding your clothes neatly. You don’t even take the time to look into the mirror to check how they fit, almost afraid of what you might see.

You leave the bathroom with another stretch and enter the open kitchen to offer your help to him, but he refuses politely because he already plated the table and there’s simply not enough space for the both of you to cook something without elbowing each other.

So you take a seat at the table, resting your head on your palm, content with just watching him being busy with the food preparation. He moves with a practiced hand, movements smooth and elegant. You can only observe as his surprisingly broad shoulders move, muscles stretching and filling his shirt. Your eyes wander over his lean back and you purse your lips the moment you see his small waist. You wonder if you would be able to put your arms around his whole torso, or your legs…

You inhale sharply, immediately averting your eyes to the window, trying to divert your thoughts to something else, anything but to look back to his direction. It’s a beautiful day outside, there’s no need to stay in the bedroom, or inside, no need to have any thoughts relating to inside activities.

Your gaze jumps around, looking for something to latch onto, but there’s nothing but the wonderful depth of the forest, which isn’t quite enough to distract you from the possible way his muscles could coil when he leans over you…

A bite to the inside of your cheek brings you out of that train of thoughts, and you’re aware of how you need something more concrete for your distraction, like that deer. But you could only vaguely discern some movements in the bushes and nothing really stepped out of the shadows.

The clatter of a plate disrupts your almost desperate search as Shoto puts a plate in front of you, and you can’t stop the excited grin spreading over your face at its contents. He made some waffles, toppings dripping down its sides and its smell luring you in to take the first bite. It looks delicious, an absolute masterpiece. And you can’t resist it, barely taking your time to thank him properly for his efforts, before digging in and letting the soft dough melt over your tongue. You close your eyes and you almost moan out of delight, the taste an explosion of pure bliss. Instead of embarrassing yourself like that, you just stuff your mouth with another bite.

And before you know it, the plate is empty, leaving you full, yet yearning for more. But you doubt you could even manage to get another bite down and just slump backward into the back of the chair, feeling some kind of satisfied drowsiness.

“Shoto, my man, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten. You got some magic hands,” you tell him and grin widely when he raises his eyebrows at your choice of words.

Instead of properly answering your compliment, he lets out a puff of air before beginning to collect the empty dishes. You immediately stand up, keen on helping him this time around, especially when you don’t need much space to do the dishes. That’s how you end up drying the washed dishes and putting them away in their respective places. Of course not without him showing you where they belong first.

With this arrangement, you finish doing the dishes at a faster rate. He’s drying his hands as he turns around to look at you. “I’m going to brew the potion today, or at least try to. Feel free to take a book to entertain yourself for the time being.”

He points to the huge shelf covering the entire wall of the living room and you gape slightly at its size. How did you miss that in the first place? Even if you have been distracted by a lot of things, this thing is huge, there’s no way you could have just not seen it.

You barely give him a nod before immediately stepping closer to the shelf, running your fingers along the spines of the books. So many different topics, genres and authors, and there is no way Shoto didn’t read them all. No wonder he has such huge amounts of knowledge. After you have taken a couple of strides along the length of the shelf, you finally choose one of the books and take it out of its place.

With it firmly in your palm, you go and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Once you’re in the perfect position you start reading, thumbing through the book about heroes and their powers, and your brain rattles with all the possibilities and the groundwork of this fictional world.

The background is filled with the sound of utensils clashing and clattering, soft blubbering of his potion, and after a couple of pages, you decide to take a look from afar.

He’s still in the kitchen, bending over his work, a slight furrow between his eyebrows, a thoughtful pout tugging at his lips. And you just look. Just admire the evenly split hair of red and white softly falling, framing his face, the calm demeanor revealing his kind heart. You smile. You can’t help but think, these thoughts filling your veins, coming from your heart, how charming he looks, how beautiful, how handsome. Despite being aware that this relationship is entirely contractual, the chance of seeing him again after this ordeal is slim, you admit to yourself, you like him, a lot. And there’s no way to truly know how he feels about you. To him, you’re probably just another person requiring his services, nothing more, nothing less, only bound by the verbal deal you’ve made.

This realization makes you smile bittersweetly, already accepting the outcome. So you try to get back into the book, to put your focus back on the ongoing plot. But your thoughts circle back to the endless ways this could end, the endless ways this could turn and bend. And no matter how badly you wish for it to end otherwise, every path leads to the same blocked path, a deal done, a face regained and a connection lost. Who are you to interfere with fate?

You force yourself to face it, to accept it, no matter how much your heart resists. It will hurt, but everything turns out to be how it’s supposed to be.

A breath and you begin to digest the story word by word, forcing yourself to take them in until you finally relax and get into the flow of the story and its plot, all while the background noises fade out of your consciousness.

You feel yourself clutching at your non-existent pearls as you near the end of the book when Shoto walks up to you, nudging your foot with his to get your attention. And once you look up from your book, he holds a cup with some sort of tea in your direction. With thanks you take it and immediately sip from the warm liquid.

“I thought you’re supposed to brew that potion?” you ask him, cupping your hands to warm your palms on the glazed ceramic.

“I was. That’s the potion in your hand,” he answers and the corners of his mouth slightly dip upward.

You startle at this revelation and almost let the cup drop. “Wh-what? You could’ve said that earlier!”

“How could I when you so eagerly took it from my hands before I could even say anything?” he chuckles and cocks his head to the side, eyes crinkling at your shocked face.

You gape at him and look at the half-empty cup in your hands, then back at him. “Are you messing with me? It feels like you’re messing with me…”

He shakes his head. “As amusing that would be, I’m not. You’re drinking the potion right now. It will probably take some odd hours to take full effect, if at all.”

Slowly you nod and just down the rest of the tea-potion in one big gulp. You exhale and the warmth of the tea coupled with the late hour begins to make you quite drowsy. There’s no way you’re staying two nights at his place, that would be just so utterly rude of you, especially if you’re going to lend out some of his stuff. That means it’s time for you to head home, as much as you’d like to stay on the couch and continue reading.

You close the book and return it to its place before you thank him once again and take your stuff. With everything in hand you begin your way home, the evening still young and the wood still filled with enough light to not get hurt when crossing it.

Finally arriving home without accidents, the first thing you do is change out of the borrowed clothes and prepare them to wash later so you can return them to him. And you start doing your nighttime routine, even if the initial drowsiness is now gone for some reason, but you’d like to be prepared for the moment you feel tired again, and maybe you need some distraction. If you don’t, you might as well go insane with anticipation, literally expecting something to happen immediately.

This anticipation fills you with adrenalin or something, because for some time you just walk around your place aimlessly, not able to settle down without feeling your heart race. You finally settle on your bed with your phone in hand, trying to calm down to the best of your abilities. It doesn’t quite work, because you realize you never asked Shoto for his number, you never felt the need to, and maybe you shouldn’t even ask in the first place.

You sigh and roll around, beginning to scroll through whatever apps you have in rotations, and you only stop to scratch at your tingling face. At first you don’t think too much about it, as it only itches around your mouth. But then the itch begins to spread over your cheek and you have to stop everything you’re doing, because you have to know if you suddenly have some sort of allergic reaction. After thinking for a while, you don’t remember eating something that could elicit such a reaction, so it can’t be that.

It takes you a moment to realize what that could mean and you jump off the bed, rushing to the mirror only to stop in the middle of the way when you remember that mirrors don’t show your problem with your looks. So you race back and dive for your phone, almost hitting your head on the headboard. You don’t pay attention to that though as you’re opening the camera, facing it towards you.

After you take a picture in semi-good lightning, you click into your gallery, only to see the newest pic and stare at it. There’s you! With every single feature you remember and cherish.

And before you know it, you’re already out the door, dashing through the streets and into the woods. You know you should be careful about tripping, but the need to see him, to thank him, to hug him, is overwhelming. Excitement is coursing through your veins, giving you a boost in energy and you feel laughter bubbling through your lungs.

Then you stumble. Unlike the first time, you don’t immediately take a tumble down the hill, because someone catches you right on time, long before you could even get closer to the ground. You grab their arm to straighten up and end up looking directly into Shoto’s eyes. For a moment you just stare at him, mesmerized by his glittering, compelling eyes, by the way you can so clearly see them despite the darkness surrounding you both.

His words bring you back to reality. “Oh, back so soon?”

“Wh– huh? How? I mean, yes, but how did you know it’s me?” you ask bewildered, shutting your mouth with some force before you keep it open when you remember that he can see your expressions now.

He smiles, plush lips revealing perfect teeth, eyes crinkling with obvious joy while roaming over every detail of your face, taking their time over every little feature; almost like he finally found whatever he has been looking for every time he glanced in your direction. One of his hands cups your face, caressing your skin. You lean involuntarily into his touch, enjoying the soft skin on yours more than you should have.

His next words make your heart beat faster than you thought possible, and suddenly a new path opens itself before you.

“My dear, I would always recognize you, no matter what.”

#shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x you #todoroki x you #shoto x you #todoroki shoto x you #mha x reader #bnha x reader #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader

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obsessivelyloved · 1 year

Text

Day 1: Monster

The prompt is from this list. Hope you guys enjoy!

__________________________________________________

There were scratch marks on your porch this morning—big, deep ones. You called out of work. You called animal control. There was nothing they could do.

A set of large footprints circled your house. They wrapped around it over and over, as if something was pacing. They stopped, deep, in front of your bedroom window. There were claw marks on your windowsill.

You had slept with your curtains open.

“Sorry,” The man from animal control had apologized, wringing his hands. “More than likely, it was a curious bear smelling food from your house. It’s long gone into the woods. But if you hear anything at night, hide up in your attic and give us a call.”

You numbly nodded your head. “Will do, thanks for- thanks for your time.”

The man left and all you could do was stare down at your porch, at the large footprints, with fear stuck in your throat. It wasn’t a bear. Bears didn’t have such large claws or feet like a coyote. Or the kind of feet bunnies have, whatever it was.

You didn’t want to stay home but you had nowhere else to go. You had recently moved to this dreary part of England, a little away from the city. It was in your grandmother’s will for you to inherit the house; you couldn’t turn it down. It was completely paid off, all you had to pay was the normal stuff like electricity and water. But now, well, maybe you should have waited until you your friend's lease was up. You would have been dealing with this stress better with someone.

Trees lined the back side of the house, but your grandmother had never been worried about animals. She didn’t even have a backyard fence, not having too many neighbors out here.

“I should go see if the hardware store sells cameras,” you say to yourself.

With a shaky breath, heart still hammering inside your chest, you gather what you need and head out. Thankfully, there’s a couple of stores ten minutes away. They’re mostly the necessities, anything but the basics and a few variety items, you have to drive to the city for. It’s a tad annoying but it’s nice to be able to own a house. Something you thought was going to be impossible in this day and age to do.

You feel as if you're in a fog, entering the small parking lot. Watching through a camera as you enter the hardware store.

Fuck you were so scared that the thing was going to come back. What if it turned out to be the Rake? That thing had haunted you for years. Stuff like that has always scared you even though you know it’s not real. Or, hope it’s not real.

“Hi! Need any help today?”

The cashier snaps you out of the fog a little, but you’re still freaked out.

“Hi,” you say, your voice cracking a little. “Do you guys sell cameras here? Like, the ones for outside?”

The lady, Jess, her name tag helpfully supplies, hums a little. She looks off to the side as she thinks.

“I um, have an animal problem,” you add. “The animal control services think it’s a bear, but I’m not sure.”

Jess lit up. “We should still have some trail cams leftover from hunting season. They’ll be right this way.”

She led you through the small store, the small aisles feeling suffocating. The cameras were on an almost completely bare shelf, the words 50% in bold hung on a banner above the shelf.

“Now that hunting season is over, we can’t really sell these. This-“ she grabs a black camera off of the shelf, “-model is the last we have. I’m not going to lie, it kind of sucks but it’s better than nothing if you really need it.”

You take a deep breath. The panic sinks in a little harder. “How does it suck? I actually really need something. I-I want to be prepared to call animal control if the bear comes back tonight.”

She gives you a sympathetic smile.

“It has a three minute delay. Most hunters hate these since their prey tends to scatter by the time they’re caught on the feeds, but this should work for you since bears aren’t too fast when they have nothing to do. I’d recommend trying to set at least one up further from your property, so you can catch the bear quicker.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“Of course! Let me know if you need help with anything.”

Jess sets the box back onto the shelf, leaving you to your thoughts. Even at fifty percent off these were expensive…..

In the end, you could only afford three. Jess rang you up and wished you well with your bear problem.

You didn’t want to go home. Somehow, you did. One moment you were sitting in your car, staring blankly at the woods, then the next, you were setting up the cameras as best you could.

One was set as high up as you could get it onto the trees behind your house. Another went next to your porch light. And the last, you put above your back door.

After you set them up, connecting them to your laptop, you waited. You waited and waited. Restless, pacing the house with your laptop plugged in and open. Night falls and you distantly think you’re going to be sick. You don’t make dinner. You hardly drink. All you can do is wait.

Eventually, you move your things up to the attic. You turned all the lights off in the house before moving some blankets and pillows upstairs. You’re so thankful there were plugins in the attic. Your laptop dying would have stressed you out more.

By 12 a.m., you start to relax a little. Nothing has triggered your cameras. Whatever it was probably won’t come back. Nothing of worth laid outside your house.

You blink and 1 am glares at you from the corner of your screen. You curl into your blankets and drift off to sleep……

Your laptop beeps.

You bolt awake, scrambling to pull your laptop close. The furthest camera caught movement. Something big was making its way past the tree line. Next, your back door caught it. The night vision didn’t help you at all in trying to figure out what the hell was out there.

If it didn’t have horns above its head you’d thought it was a bear.

Fear crawled up your chest as it sniffed the back door, pawing at the wooden steps. As it moves towards the side of the house, your brain starts to work again.

You scramble around for your phone, desperate to call animal control. But…. you left it downstairs.

Tears prickle your eyes as your laptop beeps again. The porch camera caught it.

You press your hands tight against your mouth. Tears and whimpers escape as you can only stare at the screen.

Sharp purple horns jutted out from its head, dark purple scales lined it’s body. And it’s face….. It had sharp teeth and one black eye.

It was inside the house.

#yandere monster tom x reader #yandere x reader #yantober2023 #yantober #yandere tom x reader #tw yandere #yandere tw #yandere #yandere tom #yandere monster x reader #yandere cw #cw yandere #yandere eddsworld x reader #tw stalking #yandere male #yandere fic #yandere october #yandere x you

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rustingcat · 1 year

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Vigilante

Kara was late.

She hated being late, but the amount of paperwork she had to sign was much larger than she anticipated, and the lack of signal in the classified room in the DEO meant that she couldn't alert Lena on time.

Kara made it to the lab an hour later, more exhausted than she realised.

"Kara! Is everything okay?" Lena asked the moment Kara put her bag down.

"Yes, I'm so sorry for the delay. I had to sign a LOT of papers for the DEO." Lena seemed so engulfed in the work, their work. The last thing she wanted was for Lena to feel like she's forced to take on the load.

"The DEO? Did something happen?" The worry in her voice was clear. Kara put a reassuring smile on her face to take some of it away.

"Yes, yes. I just signed an employment contract, I'm officially no longer a vigilante!" Kara said with a small chuckle.

"Oh, why the change? I remember you weren't a fan of working for the government before, especially with everything that went down with Colonel Hailey." Lena walked closer to her, a concern not completely gone.

"Well, now that my identity is public knowledge, Alex was very adamant in reminding me how open I am for lawsuits. Both private ones and from the government, like they could potentially sue me for stuff they ask me to do! How crazy is that?"

"Did you sign it already? I could go over it to make sure they don't put any peculiar articles or subsections."

"It's ok, Alex is still in touch with Lucy Lane. They went over the contract together several times before presenting it to me. Lucy is really good with this stuff." She reassured her.

"So you're a government official?"

"Yeah, free from any Supergirl related lawsuits, and with some pretty sweet tax benefits. Plus all of the salary they wanted to give me is going to go to different kinds of selected charities of my choosing, so that's awesome."

"I'm glad it all worked out."

"Me too." Kara breathed in relief.

"I have some news, too." Lena said as an excited smile spread on her face.

"Do tell," Kara said, biting her lip as a smile matching Lena started spreading.

"Okay, while you were off signing what was no doubt a mountain of paperwork," Kara nodded, "I found and fixed the problem with the distributor." Lena proclaimed proudly.

"What was the problem?" Kara asked, matching her excitement.

"We switched the materials connecting it to the compressor, but not the ones connected to the bio-terminal!" She explained quickly, her hands moving around in excited blur to match.

"Oh Rao! So it means–"

"We can start testing!"

"Ahh- Lena that's amazing!" Kara crushed into her best friend, giving her the big tight hug she deserves. She absolutely loved hugging Lena, really she took any opportunity she got. Feeling her warp around her tightly as if not wanting to let go, her smell that somehow always smelled amazing and feeling her heartbeat so close to hers. Hugging Lena was amazing, and she really deserved the most amazing hug after that discovery.

"Wait, we don't have their DNA to test it with." Kara noted once they pulled away.

"It's just a test to see if it can even process something like that, It doesn't have to be theirs. We already have exactly what we need." Lena explained.

"What do you mean?" Kara was confused, they didn't collect any DNA ahead of time.

"Samples of two specimens of the same biological sex, not to mention a combination of human and non-human DNA." Lena smiled at her.

"Oh." The room suddenly felt hotter. "Yeah, no… yes I see. Yeah that- that would definitely work." They would be combining their DNA. She and Lena. Their biological data would be combined. Kara felt very normal about this.

"Will you be able to extract some of your blood? If not, we can try saliva." Lena asked and she started to look around for the tubes.

"I think I can," Kara answered, looking at her fingers in an attempt to decide which one would be easier to cut. It's not like she would have to worry about the long term effect of the wound as it would heal once she stepped out into the sun.

Lena was already grabbing a syringe by the time Kara decided to go with her thumb, hoping to make the surface of the wound big enough to extract more blood.

She checked with her tongue to see which of her teeth is the sharpest –her upper left fang, and attempted her first try. It was painful, yet unsuccessful. She braced herself for the unavailable pain and tried again. The metallic taste in her mouth paired with the pounding pain in her finger told her she was successful. She took out her thumb and tried to lift it in a way that no blood would spill out. She held it above the tube Lena handed to her, letting the small drops fill it as much as she could, squeezing a bit despite the pain, until she was satisfied with the amount.

A quick walk to the window, letting the reflected rays of the sunshine upon her finger, fixed the little cut she created. She only wished Lena had similar powers. The syringe made her cut relatively small, but a cut was still a cut in Kara’s book. Lena was pressing a small piece of cotton to her arm, holding it tightly as she worked.

Kara walked closer to her. She was healed at this point and just as familiar with the machine as Lena, it was her turn to put on some work. She took Lenas wounded arm and gave it a small kiss to make it better. Lena's cheeks were immediately coloured with a light share of pink.

"All better now." Kara smiled at her. "Do you mind if I take it from here? You can keep pressing on the arm."

Lena simply nodded.

Inserting their blood samples carefully, Kara directed the machine to start the process. It was odd, she thought to herself, seeing all of the biological specification options for the combined data of her and Lena's DNA. Afraid to make a mistake, she slowly pressed on each button, choosing to unspecify everything before starting the process.

Kara looked at Lena with an exciting smile, biting down both her upper and bottom lips in the anticipation.

"And now we wait." Lena smiled back.

They watched in silence as the machine processed their data, searching for any errors or possible problems. They went through the math and the coding multiple times, they were at the very least confident in their work. The test was not to see a baby going through a full term, that process would take a few months even in their very advanced machine. Not to mention that due to the possibility of success, they knew that their first test subject should be for people who would be willing parents. So the test itself was only to see if the machine can prepare their given data to what could later become an embryo and then a healthy fetus should they choose to continue.

The process bar got closer to the end. No errors yet.

Lena was still pressing on her wound as she followed the process bar closely with her eyes. Kara wasn't sure if it was worry, tension or excitement on her face. Probably a combination of the three. She couldn't say she was faring any better, chewing in her bottom lip with similar emotions.

The bar got closer to the end. 97%, 98%, 99%, 100%.

Kara instinctively inhaled quickly. Holding her breath until the bar disappeared completely, replaced by a 'process complete' message on the screen.

"Oh my god!" She heard Lena exhale in relief.

"It worked!" Kara turned to face her, mouth wide open in shock and excitement.

"It did!" Lena confirmed in amazement.

They were hugging again before Kara fully realised she was doing it. Jumping in excitement in Lena’s arms as the latter laughed in response. When she settled down she noticed how close their faces were to each other, she could feel the heat radiating off of Lena's face warm her own. Suddenly their excited hearts became louder to her ears as she watched Lena wet her own lips. Kara instinctively mimicked the movement. They stayed like that for a moment, before Lena suddenly pulled away. Kara felt a pang of disappointment she could not name.

"I should check on this one project before I leave for today. Could you finish everything here?" Lena hurried to find her back, refusing to meet Kara's eyes.

"Sure," she had no problem wrapping everything herself. "What do you want to do with the PF?" It was the name they decided on for a successful processed DNA combination, a shorthand for Potential Fetus.

"It's not important, you can dispose of it." Lena finished collecting her stuff and exited before Kara could respond.

"Right." She muttered to the empty room. The project she went to check on must've been important.

Kara turned her attention back to the machine. She was familiar with the options, she designed the UI herself after all, yet they gave her pause. The button to proceed to the next stage had somehow become the most fascinating thing in the world. Flash images of small hands, a wild patch of dark hair and big striking green eyes passed through her mind in quick succession. She only noticed she clicked the button once a warning message asking her if she was sure she'd like to proceed popped up on the screen. Small panic went through her body as she realised what she almost did, Rao she almost greenlighted the creation of a baby for her and Lena.

She quickly pressed no, and moved on to check the other options. She had no need to restart the process to respect the bio-data for the PF, nor make changes to the DNA. She stared at the button to terminate the PF and all data related to it, but couldn't bring herself to do it. The images flashed her mind again. She wasn't sure what it was but she couldn't bring herself to do it, she couldn't press the button.

A message from Lena asking if she wanted a ride home made her notice the time. She sent her a quick message saying she would be right there, and turned back to the machine. Kara made a quick decision to store the data for later use, just in case they wanted to reexamine it, of course. Plus it was their first success, it could also be a reminder of their progress.

Kara finished turning off whatever unnecessary parts to keep the power consumption at a minimum, went over everything twice and spared a moment to stare at the container, before she left.

The images followed her to her dream that night, along with a familiar dimpled smile by her side.

Read in order in AO3

#look at them #succeeding in making a potential baby #that means nothing right?#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorptober #supercorptober2023 #my art #my fic

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ofmdrecaps · 2 months

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07/31/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Con O'Neill; Kristian Nairn: WJW; Ruibo Qian; Madeleine Sami; Guz Khan; TellTaleTV Voting Results; OFMD Dress Month; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby/Today's Taika;

Hey crew, I'm several days behind so I'm gonna do things a bit different this time around-- I'm gonna split the last day of July up from Aug 1, and 2. Sorry I'm so delayed, been a lot going on at work and home. Hope everyone is staying healthy and safe out there.

== David Jenkins ==

Chaos Dad, David Jenkins seems to be keeping the OFMD memes shared! It's so nice to see him sharing so much art and fun in the fandom <3 This time around the art was from the incredibly talented @lumintsu!

Source: David's Twitter

== Rhys Darby ==

Reminder! Cryptid Factor is coming to London Aug 9th! Also what a sweet shot of Rhys on the plane over the ocean <3

Source: Rhys Darby's Instagram Stories

== Taika Waititi ==

More BTS Stills from Joblo's Article/Interview about Time Bandits!

Some sneaky pool Taika!

Source: VasJMorgan's Instagram Stories

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A post shared by Etalk (@etalkctv)

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Source: etalkctv Instagram

== Con O'Neill ==

New episode of Time Bandits is out and Con is on episode 3! Including some gifs below by @laceratedlamiaceae and @gydima to see some of the fun stuff he was up to!

== Kristian Nairn: WJW ==

July 31 was Wee John Wednesday! Where Kristian did a whole video on all the lovely gifts he's received over the years from fans! There are some absolutely adorable things in there! Apologies, normally I try to transcribe highlights, but I'm still catching up on all the things after this crazy work week, so here's some highlights from our friends over at @adoptourcrew!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

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A post shared by Kristian Nairn (@kristiannairn)

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Source: Kristian Nairn's Instagram

== Ruibo Qian ==

Ruibo's getting ready for the opening night of Ms. Holmes & Ms. Watson! Unfortunately it looks like she got quite a bit of a bruise in prep!

Source: Ruibo's Instagram

== Madeleine Sami ==

Our dear Mads was out on @7daysnz a comedy news show in AoNZ!

Source: 7daysnz Instagram

== Guz Khan ==

Guz is out on U & Dave in the "Battle in the Box!"

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A post shared by U&Dave (@uanddave_)

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Source: GuzKhan's Instagram

== Tell Tale TV Votes ==

Hey folks! Your hard work payed off! We managed to win the poll for most heartbreaking cancellation (as rough as that is). Sending so many hugs to the fans for Station 19, it's obvious yall have been missing the hell out of your show too. Here's hoping we'll both get to see our shows for another season!

Source: Tell Tale TV Twitter

== OFMD Dress Week ==

Another theme week is coming up September 9th-15th, this time hosted by our friend @libroseitm! You can follow OFMD Dress week on Twitter!

Source: OFMD Dress Week Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

More cast cards tonight from our resident cast expert-- @melvisik! First up is Jon A., and Dwayne G. These two are more of our magnificent action talents (according to ofmd-crew.com!) After them-- is Karla Spika, another one of our Casting Directors (NZ department)!

Source: @melvisik's Twitter

= OFMD Colouring Pages =

The fabulous @patchworkpiratebear is putting out some more great colouring pages-- this time illustrating one of @denizbevan's fics! There are lots of versions available, so please visit their tumblr for more!

Source: Patchwork Pirate Bear's Tumblr

== Love Notes ==

Okay lovelies, I had so much I wanted to say, but I am so behind as it is, so I'm gonna do another couple days of other folks love notes. Sending love and hug vibes your way.

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A post shared by Lauren Eliz Love | Your Self Healing Teacher (@laurenoflove)

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A post shared by Myndset Mastery™ (@myndsetmastery)

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Source: LiveFreeLauraD Instagram

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

Just these two doing some crazy stuff! Gifs courtesy of our fellow Rhys and Taika enthusiasts --@celluloidbroomcloset and @soundsofmyuniverse!

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the-lost-lights · 21 days

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The Fixer Drone AU: Mini Update 1

(A follow up of THIS POST about my Fixer Drone AU)

Sorry for the delay but writer’s block is a bitch. Anyway I was planning to make another big post with lots of info about my AU but I’ve decided to downsize it in the first (possibly) in a series of small updates of this AU, adding a few info about the characters, some story bits and some random stuff.

Anyway, let’s start the show!

Tessa

She doesn’t sleep. EVER. She doesn’t even have a sleep mode function. This is because, before the Absolute Solver removed her capacity to sleep, every time she did that memories of her past tended to emerge, causing her to experience a notable amount of emotional distress and loosening the control the AS had on her. The lack of sleeping made her even more unstable than before but she’s fine with that since Cyn claims that’s for her own good.

Her head is 100% indestructible. You can hit it with a nuke and it wouldn’t be damaged by the explosion. This is because it stores her brain, left uncorrupted by the Absolute Solver, and if it ever got damaged or destroyed Tessa would die since her body lacks a core. She doesn’t know that and instead thinks that’s because she has a special, one-of-a-kind, irreplaceable custom-made core personally made by Cyn.

MPD

As some people correctly guessed they’re Tessa’s horrible parents, merged into an undying abomination in constant pain. They’re still aware of what happened to them and really want to kill Tessa not much for what she did to them but more for the fact that she allowed a Worker Drone (Cyn) to take over their company.

They’re the only “person” working under Tessa that’s aware of the existence of the Absolute Solver, albeit they think that’s a human JCJenson worker that’s secretly working against Cyn. The AS promised them to let them kill Tessa but in exchange they would have to keep an eye on her and her assistants for some undisclosed reason….

Story Bits

I’m currently writing about Uzi’s first day at work: it starts with Tessa giving her a visit to the lab, letting her meet her coworkers N, V and J and giving her her first job: recovering an intact core drone that she left somewhere in the lab. It doesn’t go very well because the quartet of Drones can barely work together and Tessa forgot to add Uzi to the “do not kill” list of MPD.

Another idea I have it’s a short humorous story where Uzi finds out that N has a crush on V and tries to help him confess his feelings for her… And President Cyn decides to help. It’s going to be a trainwreck, especially since both Cyn and Uzi are terrible at romantic stuff and have to ask J for help in order to stop V from trying to kill N.

I have planned most of the story of this AU and I will post about it “soon” so that you’ll be able to know how the story ends in case I drop out of the fandom and decide to stop writing it.

#murder drones #murder drones au #drone tessa au #murder drones tessa #murder drones uzi #uzi doorman #murder drones j #murder drones n #murder drones v #tessa james elliot

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caramel1mochi · 7 months

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One Hazy Winter [Iso x F! Reader] [4]

[ Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 ]

Genre: Angst, fluff ‎

TW: Heavy depression ‎ ‎

Words: 5k ‎

Synopsis: One winter before his disappearance, you told your boyfriend Yu about a question you’ve had for so long; one even he could hardly respond to. It took many more hopeless winters for you to finally have your answer.‎

Note: Please don't copy or steal my work and pass it off as your own! If you'd like to use one of my headcanons or something, I'd love it if you tagged or asked. Good day! Sorry for the delay, I totally haven't been eating up the Iso stuff Valorant's posting for the past few weeks like an Iso zombie, or anything. Also I might start publishing stuff a lot more slowly with everything's coming up, but I'll try my best to keep writing! Have a good read!‎ ‎‎ ‎

‎

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Winter, present day.

‎ ‎

You were tasked with showing up to work extra early today. Not that you had anything important to do, but Ying had an idea, and she always made her grand ideas your or Yu’s problem.

Mostly you, for some reason. Since she was your boss, you never really minded this. Actually, it was starting to grow on you, especially since she seemed incredibly busy with something else and didn’t have many other ways to release her stress.

It was important to note that this wasn’t all daisies and rainbows, however. This plan, though joyous for her, was pure torture for you.

Your path to work today consisted of you carrying a basket concealed at the top with some cloth as you walked down the pavement. Your mistake of not wearing gloves, combined with the brutally cold weather and the heaviness of said basket, it felt like your fingers were about to snap and fall off any second. Despite somehow surviving every single winter in your lifetime, you never bothered purchasing gloves since you had this habit of keeping your hands in your pockets.

Fuelled by a certain someone.

Your thoughts were curt once you pushed the door open, your entrance accompanied by a jingle as you moved towards the counter where Ying was. Though she was writing down a few things on her laptop, she immediately met your gaze with a grin and prioritised greeting you.

The heat inside the café enveloped you, and you immediately welcomed it with open arms whilst you moved.

‎ ‎

“Good morning, Y/N! Did you bring the goods?”

‎ ‎

Take that out of context.

You pocketed your headphones, then slammed the hefty basket on the counter to relieve yourself of the weight, a loud thud echoing through the empty and barely lit café. Then, you slipped off the cloth covering, immediately taking out its contents before she’d get a chance to peek.

‎ ‎

“One,”

‎ ‎

You placed one ripened passion fruit on the table, Ying’s eyes glimmering in excitement as she turned off her laptop and clasped her hands together.

‎ ‎

“Two,” you set down another, “three,” then another, “four, five, six,”

‎

You were careful not to set them down too hard. Despite their thick skin, you knew you could accidentally crush them. And after a whole year of tending to that cursed tree, preventing fungal infections and protecting it from anything that stood between you and a bloody good harvest, smashing the fruits was the last thing you wanted to do.

‎ ‎

“Fifteen.”

‎ ‎

You set down the final one. And by the time you looked up at Ying, her grin grew so wide it could tear her skin open with just one more fruit set to the counter.

‎ ‎

“Wonderful– this is amazing! I can only imagine how many desserts and drinks we can make with this!” She held one fruit and let her thumb scan the wrinkly skin. “And how’re your other trees, if I may ask?”

‎ ‎

With a shrug, the basket was tossed aside and you made your way behind the counter, taking out a knife from a nearby drawer. Your fingers were noticeably less stiff thanks to the heat. Though it still hurt to bend them, it wasn’t as bad as, you know, probably approaching hypothermia.

‎ ‎

“We have to wait until next summer for the harvest, I’m afraid.”

‎ ‎

“Ah, is that so? No problem; the profits we’ll make from this should make up for the time lost!”

‎ ‎

She noted with the same enthusiasm from the moment you showed her a single fruit.

You didn’t want to waste your time making the pies. Your task was to grow the fruit, not cook them. At least until she said otherwise. Again, Ying was your boss.

Once you put down the chopping board and knife you previously washed, she handed you the fruit and allowed you to cut into it. And with just one slice, it parted to reveal a slew of yellow deliciousness glimmering under the light, waiting to be ingested. Ying aimed for said ‘deliciousness’. You, however, already aimed to keep the seeds for yourself.

She took the sliced fruit and trotted off, letting you take the others and continue cutting into them. The silence was immediately broken, however, especially once another thing popped up in her mind.

‎ ‎

“I don’t want to sound like a creep, but…” she piped up from behind, “I noticed you started listening to music on the way here again.”

‎ ‎

You paused.

Right… The headphones. You mindlessly took them out last week and started using them whilst pruning your tree, the action comparable to pouring yourself a glass of water to go with a meal. As if there was no emotional attachment to such a thing.

And it felt good, now that she mentioned it. No– it felt triumphant, actually. More pleasing than coming to work with a basketful of fruit with only the bustling of the streets to accompany you. Not that your taste in music was anything crazy, but, you know.

You promptly went back to slicing through the fruit. It took a great deal of effort not to let the looming sense of despondency consume you as if it were a blue whale.

‎ ‎

“Yeah, I… Gardening is as distracting as I remember it to be.”

‎ ‎

“You’re not going to drop it, are you?”

‎ ‎

“No, no. Not at all.”

‎ ‎

It gave you something to do other than sulk in bed all day. Ying took the sliced fruit with a smile you barely caught from the corner of your eye, before moving back to the counter behind you.

‎ ‎

“I’ve actually purchased a few other things to go along with the pies we’re making. Would you like the seeds?”

‎ ‎

You looked back to see her taking out a few other fruits and setting them on the crowded counter, right next to what you discovered was a colander. The colours of said fruit pleasantly stood out against the variety of beiges and the muted tones of the outside world. A few oranges sat adjacent to the sliced passion fruit from you, some store-bought passion fruit alongside those ones, and…

‎ ‎

“I was told oranges were your specialty a while ago. I’m hoping that’s still the case.”

‎ ‎

“...What lemon is that?”

‎ ‎

Ying paused to look back at what she’d set down, before perking up and grabbing the exact fruit you were eyeing.

‎ ‎

“Ah, you noticed? It’s a Meyer lemon! I had to wait for December and go so far to find them; I still somehow only managed to purchase two before they sold out.” She grinned to herself whilst handing it to you. “I don’t know how you used to get so many all the time.”

‎ ‎

You set down the blade, then moved to take the lemon from her, observing its familiar shape and colour. Soft, round, thin skin, and a deeper tint of yellow juxtaposed to its regular counterpart. Just how you remembered it to be.

‎ ‎

“Where’d you find them?”

‎ ‎

Ying tittered and took out another lemon, setting it alongside the pile of fruit she’d already placed.

‎ ‎

“That’s a secret. Anyhow, I’ll need to fire up the ovens now and call in a few others. I guarantee that…”

‎ ‎

She continued speaking, but you tuned her out in favour of taking in the lemon’s characteristics all over again. It’s been a while since you’ve seen one of those. Heck, it’s been a while since you were even able to stomach thinking about Meyer lemons. But now, sure, they were doing their cursed job of reminding you of Yu, but what chiefly took over your mind was how you’d be able to plant this on your balcony again. The process, the space, all of that previously buried information was now slowly digging itself out. Huh.

A cold sensation on your thumb snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked down to realise that you accidentally dented the skin, deep enough for the juice to spill. You promptly shook your head and went back to work.

‎ ‎

❤ฺ·。

‎ ‎

It took a while for you to finally clean out all of the pots and fill them with their respective soils. And it took an even longer while for you to plant your seeds, organising them outside on the balcony, where there was more room. Your apartment was now slowly growing more and more synonymous with a forest. Plants and bushes everywhere, you swore the air also started to change the more you tended to all of it.

You stood back and proudly dusted off your hands, heaving a tired sigh in the process of catching your breath. Despite the cold temperature that poked at your skin like an army of wasps, you were still heavily sweating, and it felt like your chest was burning.

How the heck did you do this all the time without anyone’s help? You thought, but again, you were more physically capable of things like this given your… erm, better diet and mental state. Better than whatever the heck it was now before Ying convinced you to pick up gardening again. It felt like your muscles had deteriorated after a year of… well, after a year.

Whatever. If there was one thing you were going to do, it’s to return to how you were before Yu left. Maybe even better. And these plants were the first step to getting there. You took the pen and sticky notes set on a table near the corner and began writing. The ice cold temperature of said pen stung your fingers, but it’s not like that stopped you.

‘orange’, and ‘passion fruit’.

But you stopped halfway through writing the word ‘lemon’. You haven’t planted any lemons. In fact, you ran out of pots, as unbelievable as that sounded.

You wanted to plant the lemons right now. No, you needed to. If you don’t start now, how long will it take until you finally get fruit? Besides, Ying’s thirst for fresh fruit wouldn’t be quenched any time soon.

But… there was no room.

…

You sighed, and went back inside. There was one solution in mind. But that solution required a level of bravery you could never hope to achieve. And now that she mentioned it, you could hardly put on the headphones without thinking of Yu. You barely managed to plant those two fruits without being reminded of your parents over and over; how were you supposed to even think of approaching Meyer lemons?

It just seemed too ambitious. It seemed like it was too soon, especially when you were still technically grieving Yu’s disappearance.

But the idea was tempting, to plant the lemons in Yu’s backyard. His house was practically abandoned, right? It wasn’t… occupied. How could you, though? Exploit your boyfriend’s generosity like that? Not only his generosity, but for sharing something so vulnerable with you, only to be used for your own selfish goals when he wasn’t around to–

Your thoughts were interrupted once the music in your ears paused in favour of the ringtone that began playing. Someone was calling. And you rushed to your phone on the other side of the balcony, checking the name.

Ying.

Why would she be calling you today? At night?Nevertheless, you answered and pocketed the device.

‎ ‎

“Hello?”

‎ ‎

“Good evening!”

‎ ‎

You immediately flinched at the sound of multiple plates clanking against each other. That wasn’t to mention the people speaking loudly in the background. Though far away and, quite frankly, muffled, you were too used to the serene ambient playlist you had going.

‎ ‎

"Ying, it's ten. Why're you still at work?"

‎ ‎

"You should've seen it, Y/N! People went crazy over the pastries, they– they think I put some kind of secret ingredient in there! No, in fact, they actively avoided the store-bought passion fruit; they wanted yours!" She excitedly laughed to herself. "Can you believe it? I never thought using fresh fruit could have such an effect!"

‎ ‎

You ran your fingers through your messy hair, unable to hold back the smirk that painted your features.

‎ ‎

"No kidding."

‎ ‎

"I'll give you a cut of it this month. But we're only a few sales shy of purchasing that painting! What would I do without you, Y/N?"

‎ ‎

She let out a content sigh. You noted the unwavering excitement in her voice. Heck, you even knew that her cheeks were currently twisting to accommodate a wide smile despite being on the other side of the phone. But she kept the volume of her voice low, almost as if she were holding herself back in order to maintain her air of professionalism, or whatever.

But…

‎ ‎

“Ying. We need to talk.”

‎ ‎

“Wait, just one second.”

‎ ‎

Ying muted her microphone before you could tell her about what ran through your mind. And the doubt grew the more seconds that passed. Should you really tell her what was going on, or should you just deal with it alone?

Your heart jumped out of your chest once you heard an audible thud from behind you, quickly turning to see what the noise was. But you immediately calmed down the moment you recognised the wrinkly lump that sat on the ground, barely reflecting the light off of its thick purple skin.

It was a passion fruit from the tree. You… missed one.

Ying then unmuted, snatching your attention with ease.

‎ ‎

“I’m sorry, what were we saying?”

‎ ‎

"Something about a painting. Look, there’s something important..." you glanced at the other pots as you leaned on the wall behind you, "Ying, there's no more room."

‎ ‎

"Huh? For the plants?"

‎ ‎

"Yes. My balcony is full, and I ran out of pots."

‎ ‎

"I see... And buying a new pot is not an option, is it?"

‎ ‎

"No."

‎ ‎

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

‎ ‎

"I– I have a solution in mind, but it's hard to swallow."

‎ ‎

Your voice shifted to a hushed whisper towards the end of that sentence, and the despondency hit you like a truck. Was this even a good idea? Was telling her a good idea? What if she shuns you for such a thing?

‎ ‎

"What is it?"

‎ ‎

Silence settled for a moment, before you finally gathered the remnants of courage you had and spoke up.

‎ ‎

"I'm..." you started, "I'm thinking of planting the lemons in his house. In his… backyard"

‎ ‎

...

‎ ‎

"His... house?"

‎ ‎

"Yes."

‎ ‎

Crap. The silence must be indicative of shock; she must be disgusted by this selfish idea, just like you were. This was the exact reaction you were afraid o–

‎ ‎

"Ah, that's a great idea! I assume you visited his house before; do you still have the keys?"

‎ ‎

"I do. He gave them to me."

‎ ‎

"Perfect, then yes, I think you should do it!"

‎ ‎

Ying cried out in excitement, all of the professionalism she feigned melting like ice cream on a hot summer day, all because of you. Presumably in public, considering the bustling you still heard from the other side.

So much for maintaining her mellowness…

‎ ‎

"Yu told me once about how dead his house felt, no matter what he’d do. This could be the most ideal solution to that!"

‎ ‎

"In what way is that the solution?"

‎ ‎

You said with a wry laugh as you opened the door and went back inside, but Ying wasn't bothered by your pessimism whatsoever.

‎ ‎

"Because gardening is the perfect contrast to death!"

‎ ‎

...

‎ ‎

"Pardon?"

‎ ‎

"When you strip down all of the complicated details, gardening is technically giving life to an inanimate object, Y/N! You take a seed, something no different from a– a rock– a pebble, and nurture it. You turn it into a tree, and it's amazing! It's an extraordinary process!"

‎ ‎

You were expecting her to mention the still air, how having plants there would freshen it up, or the fact that his house was generally abandoned and it would be more beneficial to just use it, but this wasn’t what was in your mind.

‎ ‎

"...Ying, look, I respect your fascination with philosophy, but this is–"

‎ ‎

"Not only that, but a tree is a being that benefits everything around it. It– it replaces the oxygen, it bears fruit, and it returns what it has taken from its environment!"

‎ ‎

"Ying."

‎ ‎

"Think about it! When you picture a ghost town, what comes to mind? Now imagine that ghost town with a touch of mother nature. Fascinating, right?"

‎ ‎

Oh my god.

She seemed far too swept away with this topic, as if these thoughts had been festering in her head for the past few months with no outlet... until you came into the picture. Wait just a second, was this why she wanted you to go back to gardening? Or maybe you were just overthinking things.

Your words, however, fell on deaf ears as you tried to drag her back down to reality.

‎ ‎

"I think you should understand how valuable gardening is, Y/N–"

‎ ‎

"Ying!"

‎ ‎

"Yes! Yes, I'm sorry, I–" She tittered, clearly embarrassed. "I must've gotten carried away."

‎ ‎

“It’s fine.”

‎ ‎

She already sounded cheesy throughout this entire ordeal, but this was starting to get out of hand. You sighed, unable to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot as you stared out the window, observing a family of three hopping on a bus.

In fact, it wasn't too far-fetched to assume that Ying had a high opinion of you for your gardening just as Yu did this whole time, and she was indirectly telling you now. What else could possibly explain this random tangent?

…An idea promptly popped up.

‎ ‎

"Look, Ying, I have to go. I need to… do something."

‎ ‎

You immediately stood up from the couch and left to take out the sealed bag full of seeds stashed deep within the kitchen’s cupboards.

‎ ‎

“Do something?”

‎ ‎

"I'll ring you up later. We'll keep talking about this on Monday."

‎ ‎

All Ying did was successfully add on to your confusion for the past few minutes, sure, but maybe she also ignited a bit of inspiration in you, given what you were doing. Then, you turned and grabbed a few keys from your drawers, shoving them in the pockets of the thick coat you were about to wear.

‎ ‎

"Oh, I see. I’ll let you do whatever it is you want to do. And if you’d like any help, I’m one text away."

‎ ‎

Despite being on the other side of the phone, you could feel a misplaced cheeky grin force itself on her face. One that, as opposed to the merry and artless one from before, would absolutely look weird on someone as mature and mellow as her. Well, as mellow as she tried to be. She just couldn’t hold back around you, for some reason.

But it still seems like she caught on.

‎ ‎

“Break a leg out there."

‎ ‎

And with that, you closed the call and pocketed your phone, rushing down the flight of stairs. Only two more minutes until the specific bus you aimed for would arrive, and you did not want to miss it, that’s for sure.

Ying's little tangent was so incredibly cloying, it nearly gave you a headache by the end of it. She spoke like a mum who watched way too many soppy movies from the 90's... Well, you might've caught her recommending a few to your co-workers.

But it may have been exactly what you needed to get you on your feet. You were going to plant those seeds. And in her words, 'bring life back' to that house. You weren’t going to allow the pessimistic side of you convince you otherwise.

Now that you weren't in on call, you were free to take out one earbud and play music once more whilst you ran towards the closed gates.

‎ ‎

❤ฺ·。

‎ ‎

Winter, two and a half years ago.

‎ ‎

Even after a considerable amount of time had passed, Yu’s house remained just as empty as when you first visited it. ‘It’s because I moved most of my stuff to your apartment!’ he explained when you questioned him on it. But if that were the case, why were most of them blankets? Even the bloody misters he brought along were purchased from the stores situated outside of your complex.

Oh, who were you kidding? It was on par for someone like him to own only heaps of blankets and hoodies.

And even though this was your second time visiting it, the place felt lonelier than before, for some reason. The rooms felt vast, despite how tiny they really were. Mostly thanks to the echo and the lack of furniture, but that’s by the by. And that wasn’t to mention the photos strewn around the walls. More specifically, the family photos. They left an impact on you despite being few and far between.

‎ ‎

Across the living room was an arched doorway that led to what would’ve looked like a black hole had it not been for the sunlight. That’s where you two stopped whilst Yu was fiddling with his keys. And instead of letting yourself in, you allowed the dark patterned wall to lead you to something you probably shouldn’t have found so interesting.

Hung above the fireplace was a picture you could hardly see thanks to the dim colour scheme that blended in with the surrounding darkness. Nevertheless, you still managed to outline two specks of purple on a toddler’s eyes, surrounded by stunning green foliage and the Russian violet coat of a woman who carried him.

It was… Yu. Being held by, presumably, his mother. Or his grandmother; it was hard to tell. Who knew he looked like such a cute baby? Also, how the heck did his round cheeks morph into the slick jawline he has right now?

‎ ‎

“Remember how you showed me your balcony a while ago?” Yu’s voice swiftly snatched your attention, “I’d like to show you something in return.”

‎ ‎

“What is it?”

‎ ‎

He moved down the short hallway and opened a cherry door to his left, his steps muffled by the crimson carpet flooring.

‎ ‎

“I left a few keys in my bedroom, can you get them while I go to– uh, while I… do something?”

‎ ‎

He looked at you with an innocent smile, awaiting an answer. Just like the painting, his bright eyes brilliantly shimmered in the darkness. In fact, now that you’ve seen him as a baby, it became harder and harder to resist saying yes.

‎ ‎

“I'll be back.”

‎ ‎

And with that, you moved to his vacant bedroom.

Though there were bedsheets, the bed still lacked a blanket. Which, to be fair, should be expected at this point. Once you flicked the light switch, you promptly took off your shoes and stepped on the large patterned rug, nearing the dusty furniture.

Incidentally, the patterns didn’t fit his style, now that you thought about it. In fact, the entire house looked like it was decorated by someone older. Much, much older. And Yu was way too dorky to fit that criteria. But whatever.

Searching was easy at best, especially since most of the drawers on the vanity table were empty. Within a few picoseconds of opening and slamming them, you were done, and had already moved on to the closet that harboured a few hoodies at best. Where the heck was the key? ‎ ‎

“Yu, where is it?”

‎ ‎

You called out, your voice echoing through the house. And it took only a few seconds before he shouted his response from what seemed to be… outside?

‎ ‎

“On the bedside table, it should be on the right!”

‎ ‎

You sighed and moved to the one on the right.

But just as you pulled the drawer back, you heard a large gust of wind billow through the house. Accompanying that wind was a cold sensation that forced you to shiver as you searched.

‎ ‎

“What’re you doing out there, Yu?”

‎ ‎

The moment you slammed the drawer shut, he presumably closed the door as well and prevented the air from further entering.

‎ ‎

“Nothing! I’ll show you when you’re back.”

‎ ‎

‘When you’re back’, huh? Jeez, you weren’t sure whether he was preparing something cute or trying to stop a disaster from happening.

‎ ‎

“Careful. You have no idea how high my expectations are getting.”

‎ ‎

He responded with a barely audible chuckle, and your cold heart just about melted. Since the top was empty, you pulled back the bottom drawer instead. However, just as your eyes settled on the objects inside, your mind went blank.

A medallion glimmered under the weak lights above you. And despite the darkness, you could outline an hourglass symbol etched onto the reflective object. But that wasn’t what concerned you. What concerned you was the gun that sat right next to it.

Why was there a gun?

‎ ‎

“Did you find it?”

‎ ‎

You jumped and shut the drawer, turning to see him standing behind you.

‎ ‎

“Uh– no, no I haven’t.”

‎ ‎

“Really? I know I put it there.”

‎ ‎

Within a few steps, Yu already found himself right next to you, and he pulled the first drawer open, grabbing the keys that were concealed by the sharp shadows.

‎ ‎

“Here it is. It must’ve been the lights.”

‎ ‎

“I… guess it was.”

‎ ‎

There was a gun in the bottom drawer.

‎ ‎

“Are you okay? You look pale.”

‎ ‎

He cupped your cheek in his hand, wiping away a bead of sweat with his thumb. Just as he did that, however, you quickly broke the embrace and took a step back.

‎ ‎

“Yes, I’m fine. I just need some air.”

‎ ‎

He was surprised. That much, you could tell.

‎ ‎

“Oh… Okay, follow me.”

‎ ‎

He promptly led you outside and took a sharp turn to the right, leading you towards a section of the house you haven’t explored yet. But that didn’t concern you. Instead, you kept your eyes on the ground as you followed him, unable to control the questions that took over you. Why would there be a gun in his bedroom? Should you bring it up? And what about that medallion? It was next to the weapon…

Okay, maybe you were overthinking things. It could be some band, or something. Maybe the gun was fake. Heck, maybe you didn’t see a gun at all. Maybe you were–

‎ ‎

“Here, you’ll need this.”

‎ ‎

Your thoughts were knocked out of your head once you saw Yu grab something from the nearby wall and hold it up to you.

Turns out it was a robe. He took it from the nearby coat stand. Long and soft, its pristine beige tufts were highlighted by the sunlight. It was only once your eyes settled on the wooden double doors did you realise that he planned on taking you outside…

Oh.

‎ ‎

“You have a backyard?”

‎ ‎

“Mhm.”

‎ ‎

He draped the robe over you, allowing the thin yet warm material to enfold and protect you from the oncoming wave of cold. Then, he opened the door and let in even more sunlight.

You stepped out and observed the area around you. Closed off by a fence of stone, heaven itself stood before you… if it weren’t drowning in snow. Thanks to the winter season, what would’ve been a stunning tree was instead a massive dead log that barely held itself, its branches protruding outwards in a sickly manner.

You took a few steps forward as you took in the place, allowing the fresh air to fill your lungs.

‎ ‎

“If I were you, I’d only leave this place in the winter.”

‎ ‎

“And let your fruit die?”

‎ ‎

You stopped, taking a moment to process how that related to the current conversation. And it only took a few seconds for it to click.

‎ ‎

“Is that your way of inviting me to plant here?”

‎ ‎

He shrugged innocently.

‎ ‎

“You said it. Not me.”

‎ ‎

You smiled and allowed him to pull you into a hug, your head pressing up against his chest. Despite the misapprehension that he was, ahem, ‘subtle’, he was the exact opposite.

‎ ‎

“Shouldn’t you build a swimming pool here? For summer…”

‎ ‎

“Hmm. That’s an idea.”

‎ ‎

He thoughtfully mumbled to himself, before something else caught your attention. The hoodie that he wore was loose, now that he had taken off his jacket and scarf. It revealed a good portion of his neck.

However, before you could point this out, he pulled away and spoke up once more.

‎ ‎

“I don’t like spending too much time here, to be honest. Too many… uh, memories. But maybe…” he weakly smiled, “maybe you’ll find this place more useful than I ever could.”

‎ ‎

With his hands in yours, you felt an unfamiliar texture on your palm. It was only when he pulled away that you realised that he had given you the two keys from the bedroom drawer.

‎ ‎

“These are the spare keys. You gave me yours; it’s… only fair I give you mine.”

‎ ‎

You stared at him in silence, the ice cold metal settling in the warm palm of your hand. But instead of feeling some sort of joy, you felt your stomach churn at the thought of the gun.

Even without said gun to cloud your mind, you had no idea how to feel about this. Should you be happy, sad, or relieved? How did he feel when you gave him your keys? It was as if you were unappreciative of anything he did, like sadness was the only thing your mind knew how to feel. And that wasn’t what you–

His hand landed on your shoulder, snapping you out of your panicked frenzy.

‎ ‎

“Are you okay?”

‎ ‎

You sighed.

‎ ‎

“Yu, I–”

‎ ‎

You were torn between asking him about the gun and admitting how you felt. Either way, it was a lose-lose dichotomy.

…

You grabbed his hand, fingers interlocked like two puzzle pieces connecting.

‎ ‎

“You’re cold.”

‎ ‎

“Hm?”

‎ ‎

If you were stuck between the devil and the deep blue sea, you might as well dig yourself out, right? And that’s what you did.

You pocketed the keys, then held his hand in both of yours to check his temperature. And you were right; he was starting to get cold. Very cold.

‎ ‎

“It– it’s not that bad, Y/N. Really. The hoodie is warm enough.”

‎ ‎

“Don’t start with that. You’ll get a fever.”

‎ ‎

A misplaced grin painted his features.

‎ ‎

“Really?”

‎ ‎

You grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer.

‎ ‎

“Shut up and come here.”

‎ ‎

Yu lightly laughed as you wrapped the soft robe around him, bringing him to you to share your warmth. Of course the thought of you nursing him back to health was tempting to him. Knowing how cheesy he was, you’d have to be watchful so that he wouldn’t orchestrate something like that.

With his arm around your shoulder, you took out the keys again, sombrely observing their shape.

58 notes · View notes

batsplat · 3 months

Note

“the issue was that valentino had thought that he could fix that bike - and while obviously he did influence that project, it was still several years away from being particularly close to being fixed. those two years are all about frustration, of trying to make changes to the bike and nothing working... which was enough to make valentino willing to accept yamaha's terms as long as he could get back to a point where he was competitive again. because he had begun to doubt himself, because after two miserable years of injury, a bike that oscillated between throwing him off and just being slow, the tragedy he and the sport suffered at sepang 2011... well, more than anything else, he just wanted to enjoy himself again”

sorry to copy whole chunks of your work into your inbox and idk if you meant it to sound this way or if it’s an accident but reading this part you could have also been talking about marc’s last years at honda (heartache! my god, my chest twisted) and his switch to ducati and it’s rather interesting… that this happened at almost the same age for them… through almost the same situation………. idk, as different as they sometimes seem, it’s almost like they are meant to be viewed as two versions of the same

(x) maybe a teensy bit on purpose lol

yeah, look, obviously there's plenty of notable differences between the two situations - from how serious the injury was to the personal tragedy valentino went through during that time to the disparity in their ages (three years doesn't sound like a lot but in this sport it kinda is). personally, I didn't really doubt that much that marc could be a title contender again, but from the way he speaks about it, talking during this last presser that he was considering retirement at assen last year... look, some of the stuff early this year was expectation management and of course he's perfectly capable of lying about this stuff, but he very obviously did have some serious doubts about the extent to which he could be competitive again. this is the thing, right... he just hadn't been able to fight at the front of the field for so long, plus he was on a bike that is just ideal for slowly stripping away the confidence of a rider. if you're constantly unexpectedly crashing because you just can't trust the feedback you're getting from the bike, that's just psychologically incredibly tough to deal with (incidentally broadly an accurate description of the ducati during the early 2010s)

which is where the parallels with valentino really do come in, don't they... it's the confidence, the way for the first time in their careers, it's really been systematically stripped down... all this self doubt, the way they're struggling to find themselves again. of course, they'd both gone through rough patches before - the 2006-07 period for valentino, 2015 for marc. they've had a few knocks, it's not as easy to shrug off injuries any more, they know there's no guarantee they'll measure up to the riders they once were. I compiled valentino talking about marc's injury here, but most relevant is how he compares it to his own 2010 injuries. so you have this in july 2020:

I think it's interesting that valentino acknowledges that it helped he knew his title charge was over after the broken leg, to force him to give it up and just focus on his recovery. it's easier, right - if he'd been in marc's situation, it's entirely possible he would've tried to race the following week too. I also think this is an interesting way of framing his actual recovery process, where he *checks notes* still came back way sooner than everyone expected,leading to speculation he didn't really believe his title charge was over - plus kept delaying surgery to the shoulder to the off-season even though it was very obviously hampering him, which then continued to be an issue the following year. like, okay, great job, you didn't try to ride a motogp bike WITH A BROKEN LEG, but also "I only thought about getting better" doesn't quite match up with your actions buddy

as valentino acknowledges, the sport does have a history of near-miraculous comebacks... I feel like these days people only remember 2010 and not the 2017 knock-off

and of course marc's ill-fated decision has to be seen within this context. the ways in which he was influenced by the comebacks from other riders in the past (the most famous of which is probably jorge assen 2013) and by how he himself had a habit of somewhat improbably recovery timelines after constant off-season surgery. from the vale race recs post *wink wink* *nudge nudge*:

valentino also compares his own mugello injury with marc's in september of 2020:

so you also get valentino agreeing with the parallel between honda's situation in 2004 and 2020. of course, the situation in 2004 wasn't as dramatic for honda - but in both cases, they went into that season fully expecting to win that title and instead found themselves underperforming and losing

moving on to comparing the injuries: valentino says his initial injury was worse, but it was marc doing the crazy fast comeback that really fucked him over (which is all true). he talks about why it's so tough... the "physical side" of the pain when you ride the bike but also "on a mental level if you have any fear". how this leaves a "mark on all riders". not particularly hard to draw any parallels here, he's already doing it for us

and lastly in november 2020, again with reference to his own 2010 injury:

talking about how eventually it becomes not just about the career but also about quality of life... how it was a tough period for him because he was just in constant pain... "sometimes you need time"... again, not really much to add, is there. the following years are a brutal double whammy of sorts: not only are you attempting to recover from your worst career injury, not only are there massive reasons why you're suffering (chronic pain, personal tragedy), but also you're suddenly uncompetitive in a way you've never been before in the premier class. you know there's a real possibility your time at the top of the sport is over... that even if you get back on a competitive bike, there's no guarantee you'll be able to come close again to being the rider you once were. you've ridden a bike that's gradually sapped your confidence, your ironclad trust in your own ability to be able to master any bike... you've spent so much time away from the top positions, and you've also made way more high profile mistakes that you had at any stage of your career. for valentino, the most memorable one is obviously jerez 2011 - which, yeah, you can write it off as just a dumb error in the wet, but it's not the kind he'd make if he didn't see this as his one chance to get a big result this early in the season with the crap bike and the crap shoulder (this is 'ambition outweighs talent'). for marc, it's silverstone 2021 (as martin says afterwards, "I hope he can learn from this one and improve for the future", which is great snark lol), portimao last year (y'know, the home crowd booing him)... arguably aragon 2022 the first lap, but that one's not quite as bad a misjudgement (admittedly, he maybe should've called it a day after the first collision). obviously, valentino was never a particularly crash-prone rider until he got on that ducati - but it's worth remembering marc wasn't really known for this kind of error, where he was collecting other riders and causing them both to crash. all of this isn't fun! it's also just kind of humiliating! they're used to so much success, and now they're getting barely any of that - while also occasionally having to go around apologising to other blokes for annoying errors they weren't really making back in the day!

then from marc's end, you've got this quote from 2014 (credit to this post):

of course, knowing marc, there's no way he's not thought about the parallels between his current situation and valentino's back in 2013. and, look, obviously it's not one to one. valentino was three years older back then, his injuries were serious but considerably less so than what marc went through, the competitive landscape looks completely different now than it did in 2013... but this isn't about drawing direct comparisons, it's more about the associated feelings for both of them... all this self doubt, all this pain, the way they just weren't having fun any more... this is the first order of priority, rediscovering the joy. personally I reckon they were being more or less sincere at the start of that journey in not primarily thinking about securing more titles. of course, that changes once they realise they can be competitive again... but while the doubt remains, it's not the main thing they're concerned with

that's the fun thing about qatar 2013, isn't it? there's no point in valentino's entire career where he would have been less invested in whether he ended up winning or losing a fight like that. the whole point wasn't the end result, it's that he was even capable of fighting like that again... of having fun again, battling with a top rider, with the star of tomorrow. given his weekend up to that point, he wouldn't even have been expecting to do so right before the race! really, beating marc in that race was just a bonus. in a different way, the same thing was obviously true of marc: making his debut in the premier class and immediately getting to fight his hero, ending up taking his first ever premier class podium. because of some cruel alchemy of timing and circumstance, you've managed to capture them both at the precise moment where they really are just happy to be there, made their first fight with each other a moment of pure, undiluted ecstasy. such a sweet moment for the pair of them, where they found themselves able to fight each other and had every reason to relish it. you really couldn't have scripted it better

and like you say, they are two versions of the same rider! it really does feel like their careers should be read in conversation with each other! obviously valentino frequently acknowledged this himself early on, saying it wasn't an 'exaggeration' to call marc 'the next valentino rossi'... the ways in which marc had modelled himself after valentino, including of course copying some of his most famous overtakes. beyond their rivalry and conflict, there is also continuity between the pair of them. their entire feud hinges on how it can feel like a blessing to face another version of yourself... but it can also become a curse. the reason why they grew so close in the first place and why things got so ugly between them is fundamentally the same. neither of them have ever really forgotten about the similarities between the pair of them either. mutually inescapable until the end, I fear

incidentally, for context, here's what valentino was actually saying at the end of the ducati years. first of all, he pays casey his dues for being able to succeed on that bike:

you'll note that while he says the experience hadn't broken him (though "I don't think so" isn't particularly firm either), he does talk about how psychologically tough riding that ducati was. also, like I mentioned in the post that this one is a follow-up to, the really big frustration is not even about the riding as much as it is in the utter failure in bike development terms - where nothing they did actually worked:

he describes this as his first wrong career choice (although in other places he has also defended this decision), while also paying credit to his ducati team. crucially it followed on from all these rolls of the dice that had worked, the most major ones being probably the switch to yamaha and later the switch to bridgestones:

he says he's uncertain about whether he'll be able to fight for titles and even race wins again, stressing the importance of the valencia test (which is when he knew he was in serious trouble back in 2010):

and he talks about being the number two rider back at yamaha (while of course flipping it around again to ensure he's putting pressure on jorge):

same principle as with marc, some of this is expectation management and avoiding putting too much pressure on himself, cf marc's constant talk about being content if he could just fight for those 'top five top six positions' again (lol). but crucially valentino didn't know what would be possible

he does also talk a bit about his successors to the seat:

the thing about the ducati during this time, right, is that it was a very bad bike. honda decided to be a bit more dramatic about this post-2020, but these are two broadly analogous cases of massive decline for a manufacturer that had recently won a championship. casey came in for 2007 as a 21 year old insanely talented rider who wasn't too familiar with another bike (certainly not one as friendly as the yamaha) and was able to do something special with that capricious package... but he also talks in his autobiography about how ducati became far too complacent once that title had been won. it's not just mystery illness that explains the progressive decline in his results at ducati during the following three years - it was hubris from ducati, their refusal to listen to their riders while preferring to insinuate their riders simply weren't following the right diet or just weren't exercising enough. valentino switched to this poor package at an age at which adapting to a new bike is just categorically harder, and he failed in making any real progress with that bike for the following two years

that being said, at the end of the day ducati's situation back then isn't a million miles away from what you've seen with the honda - albeit in a different era where this performance decline wasn't punished quite so badly in championship standings because the margins now are a lot slimmer. casey did the equivalent to what marc did in the late 2010s, and put a somewhat evil but obviously fast bike into championship contention for two of his four years at ducati. he jumped ship at the right time, valentino jumped onto it at the wrong time and swiftly realised most of the ship was by this point underwater. look, just some interesting context imo! feel free to ignore. if you're interested in a more in-depth read about what was actually wrong with the bike in 2011, here you go - the short version is "front end feel". which is of course the ideal way to ruin confidence... if you can't trust the feedback you're getting, you can't trust yourself, simple as

#i prefer not to state my actual takes on anything i just vaguely allude to them while burying them within walls of text #but don't apologise!!#//#brr brr #batsplat responds #idol tag

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