#ANYWAY hopefully I will be back to usual programming (writing) tomorrow

[racingliners]

Lewis Hamilton achieves his best Grand Prix result for Ferrari at Imola

[natalie-the-writer]

Hey y'all! This is another fanfiction based around Ugly Dolls, the movie, and very Lou-centric with most the other characters added in. Pieces of this were inspired by https://0perfectimperfections0.tumblr.com/ and it's a continuation of my story which is also a continuation of hers. It's linked in this post - should be in a giant box. Hopefully.

Anyway, here's the story I spent the last 24 hours writing

Nap Time

"Lou, it's almost two o'clock. You know the deal," Nolan stated, crossing his arms. He knew this would be a fight since the blonde doll had hid from him for the last thirty minutes, moving from place to place. He was agile and slick when he needed to be, but Nolan eventually did find him helping Wage out in the restaurant. The brunette had approached Lou early just to keep an eye on him until his new 'nap time' came. He didn't exactly expect a game of hide and seek with Lou slipping off into the crowd the second they locked eyes.

This was the first day the nap rule had been truly put into place. Up until a few days ago, Lou spent quite a few hours of the day sleeping off the last of his sickness and exhaustion. When he was awake, he stayed in Moxy's house, doing activities that required little to no energy as he healed, with them all spending more time with the blonde to get to know the true Lou. When his house was finished (something he'd been so happy about), he slept there, with someone always nearby to keep an eye on him. In the last three days, he'd tried to spent less time sleeping and more time out and about, working where he could, causing his friends to truly implement the naptime rule. It was good that he was trying, but he also had a track record of sleeplessness.

"Do I have to acknowledge that deal?" He asked as he put away dry dishes. Lou may not have been on janitor duty anymore, but he seemed to like helping Wage out. That wasn't one of his duties as former janitor, so maybe that was a part of it. Or maybe he liked to clean as long as he wasn't forced to. Wage was currently watching them out the corner of her eyes as she cleaned off a counter, business currently in a lull.

Nolan sighed exasperatedly. "Yes, you do."

"I'm in denial then."

"Isn't that still acknowledging but not believing?" Nolan asked, tilting his head to the side as his slight frustration quelled. He didn't exactly want to play twenty questions with the blonde, but they weren't getting anywhere at the moment. And why would Lou just agree? No one he knew liked a forced naptime. Lou likely hadn't taken a nap before unless it was out of sheer exhaustion - it likely went against his programmed perfectness.

The thought made the usually gentle doll want to punch whoever made Lou feel that way. At least give them a good talking to.

"Maybe. Same difference." He dried a plate, turning away slightly. Nolan leaned forward automatically to see him trying to cover up a little yawn and a small smile spread across his face. 'He's tired, but won't admit it.' Stubborn Lou. The green striped doll moved back to his original stance as his friend turned back to him. "Are you just going to stand there or what?" Months ago, there would've been bite to his voice. A snark that came from protecting himself and putting forward confidence. Now it was only playful, with a bit of exasperation mixed in.

An idea formed in Nolan's head as he sighed. "So you're not going to go to bed willingly?"

"What does it look like?" He asked, nose scrunching as his mouth turned down. "Absolutely not. I don't need a nap. I'm not about to swan dive again." He rolled his eyes, visibly holding back another yawn.

"Alright," Nolan shrugged, trying to imitate Lou's nonchalance. He didn't play it off well, judging by how the other's eyes narrowed on him. "You win, but you're going to bed tomorrow."

Lou scoffed, turning away again. "Unlikely."

'We'll see,' Nolan thought, heading out of the kitchen. He met Wage as she came toward him, holding a stack of plates. He subtly tilted his head, muttering to her as he passed. "Keep him here. I've got an idea." He wasn't as dumb as most dolls thought he was. Sure, he could be oblivious, but he wasn't stupid. He knew exacy how to get Lou to bed.

Wage nodded, a small smile on her face. "Will do," she whispered back, carrying the apparently dirty plates through the door to where Lou was.

As soon as he was outside the little restaurant, he hustled to where he last saw Babo, the large grey Ugly who was very nice and had the strength Nolan needed right now. He found him not far from town square, strolling down the sidewalk, whistling a merry tune. "Babo!" Nolan called, stopping the doll in his tracks.

"Hey Nolan, what's going on?" Babo asked as the brunette stopped, slightly bent over as he panted.

Once he got his breath back, he said, "I neds to ask you for a small favor."

_________________

"Put me down!"

Lou struggled against the soft arms holding him in the air, ignoring how they made him feel a a bit safe and warm despite his fighting. He didn't know Babo as well as some others, but the doll was very resourceful and overall nice. 'Not exactly nice now,' he thought, crossing his arms over his chest in a disgruntled pout, slowly coming to realize he couldn't fight off the doll's hold. The bigger doll had him held in his arms securely, one hooking under his legs and the other behind his back. His side was pressed against his chest, something he wouldn't admit felt comfortable.

"Sorry, Lou," Nolan said where he was walking slightly ahead of him. He looked over his shoulder almost apologetically, and Lou sent a little glare at him. He wasn't mad persay, but he didn't like this. He knew he needed sleep, but that didn't mean he wanted it. In the middle of the day. It felt wrong. It felt weak. It felt imperfect. As much as everyone told him he didn't have to be perfect, his programming, his thoughts, the last decade of heartache told him that's exactly what he was supposed to be. It was perfection or failure. "It's for your own good. You're exhausted, and no one wants you to work yourself into a 'swan dive.'"

Lou grumbled, but couldn't find a competent defense. He was just so tired and the longer he stayed against this fluffy mass and felt the gentle bobbing of footsteps carrying him, this... safety, the more he wanted to give into the urge and sleep. He looked away from Nolan to the sky, pointedly ignoring them all as he traced the shapes of clouds with his eyes, feeling his eyelids and body grow heavier the longer he stayed here....

He wasn't entirely sure when it happened, but he dozed off. His woke up a little when they came to a stop, eyes opening slightly. They were at his house, a nice little cottage toward the end of town with different colored flowers surrounding it, courtesy of his new... friends. That's what they were. Nolan was using the key from under the mat to get inside. His eyes fell shut again and he absentmindedly realized Babo's arms had tightened around him a little. The blonde's head was rested against his chest, and he could hear the stuffing inside shifting, along with a faint heartbeat. They all had hearts, even if they weren't like human hearts. The steady thumping lured Lou back toward blissful sleep, the feeling only increasing when they stepped into his warm house - absolutely nothing like the drab, thin-walled shed he'd been confined to before or his lonely mansion.

Babo carried him up the stairs slowly. When he jostled him on accident near the top, there was a whispered "sorry, Lou" that made his heart clench. He wasn't used to this whole being apologized to thing. He wanted to reply, but everything felt peacefully heavy and uncooperative, including his mouth which refused to work with his brain. He did manage to press further up against Babo, which he hoped was enough to convey his... gratitude? Was that the right word? There was a small sigh that almost sounded fond or amused.

A few moments later, they made a turn. Lou didn't feel like exerting the strength to open his eyes to see where they were, but it didn't take much of a genius to guess. His bedroom. A place that was no longer basic and plain with walls that closed in on him at night. There was dark hardwood for the floor and blue walls that Mandy said matched his eyes, two bookshelves that weren't full of teaching manuals and textbooks (those were in the basement, collecting dust), a desk for him to write and draw as he pleased, and three windows so the place felt way more open. There were other random nick nacks, too, gifts from the dolls that were either store bought or handmade, such as his snow globe, photo album, and the teddy bear Nolan made for him - he was quite the tailor and stuffed animal maker. All those things sat on the top shelves of his book cases, along with the other random gifts that made him cry happy tears and feel all warm inside.

"Think he'll wake up to change into pajamas?" Nolan whispered. Lou could sense him nearby, possibly only a few inches away.

Babo chuckled a little, his chest rumbling against Lou's ear. It was comforting. "I don't think he'll wake up completely for anything short of a fire right now. Let's just get him out of his jacket and shoes, then tucked into bed."

"Good idea."

He was shifted slowly and carefully to sit on his bed - a bed that wasn't too big or too small, covered in weighted, comfortable blankets that swaddled him in a hug every night. He used blankets like them back in his mansion to try and feel a little less alone, but now, as they were gifts from friends who worked so hard to get this place together for him of all people, they felt like actual hugs.

His head hung forward, gently cradled by Babo's bigger one to keep him in place as Nolan pulled his suit jacket down his shoulders, leaving him in his white button up. The blankets shifted and he was picked up again, only to be laid down in a bed. His shoes were tugged off and the blankets came to rest over his body, sealing him inside the warmth of his body and heart. He could open his eyes right now, show them he's awake, and tell them they shouldn't do this. He didn't need all this coddling, all this carrying, all this care. Perfection meant standing on your own.

But he wanted all of this. He wanted to feel the love they were giving him now. The care of friendship, something he'd had so little of in the last decade being trapped in this doll prison, teaching dolls only to watch them disappear forever to a world he couldn't reach. But it wasn't a prison anymore. He had friends. Dolls came and went as they pleased through the portal - except for him, but that didn't feel like such a big deal anymore. Yes, he wanted a kid, like all dolls did, but the love he always wanted... he thinks he had that now. The love of friends.

A hand gently patted his shoulder through the blanket. "Have a good rest, Lou," Babo whispered. "You deserve it. Sleep tight." Quiet footsteps were the only sound as the grey doll left the room.

A shifting on his right side told him Nolan was still there. Through his eyelids, he could tell that the blinds had been shut, dimming out the light in the room. A little, contented sigh escaped him, his whole body completely laxing out as sleepiness surged forth, wrapping his conciousness up in a warm embrace. He really was tired. More tired than he thought. He'd spent the day just walking around Imperfection after waking up early, ignoring the last dregs of his sickness and exhaustion trying to take him under. His breathing still felt a little funny and his head hurt at random times, but he brushed that aside. A headache didn't warrant staying in bed.

For the last few days, he'd been trying to improve his image in the eyes of other dolls by working and offering to help. He was aware Ox already told everyone he was off janitor duty, but Lou really did like to clean. It was a pastime where he could focus on scrubbing and sweeping instead of his thoughts, along with doing something productive. Many dolls were wary, yes, and gave him glares or sent harsh words his way that had his newfound friends at his side to pull him to another part of the place, glaring daggers back at the offending doll. (It was comforting to be protected, but he didn't want to get back into good graces through force.) However, some dolls did accept his help, if cautiously. Wage was the first to truly warm up to him, and he helped her out in the diner a lot.

But now, all of that labor was taking its toll on his body. He'd forced himself to sleep less, to try and be normal, be perfect, and it was backfiring on him. To be fair, it didn't backfire terribly. Not with his friends around. Suddenly tired of thinking, Lou snuggled further down into the blankets and pillows, listening as Nolan came to sit on the bed beside him. The doll's hand rested on Lou's back and he almost tensed up.

"Hey Lou," Nolan whispered. "I don't know if you can hear me or not, but I just wanted to say... you're okay. Naps don't make you weak, if that's what you've been thinking. We all need time to rest, and your body and not to mention your mind need a lot of time to heal. It's not going to happen in a night but... it'll get better. I promise." His hand rubbed a soothing motion across his shoulders and back, causing Lou to sink further down into his now calm mind, his worries put to rest by someone he could call a friend, maybe even a best friend. Maybe... maybe... eventually... a family member.

He fell asleep to Nolan humming a quiet tune, wrapped in comfort that wasn't just physical. He was safe. He was home.

He was okay.

_______________

"How's he doing?"

Nolan looked up to see Ox peeking into the room, a small smile on his face. The brunette couldn't help but smile back, beckoning him inside with his hand. He was sitting on the edge of Lou's bed, hand rested on his shoulder. "Been out like a light for almost an hour." He chuckled breathily. "And he said he wasn't tired."

The green doll let out a little laugh himself, closing the door quietly before stepping up to the other side of the bed. Nolan glanced down at the sleeping figure. His blonde bangs were astray, falling over his closed eyes, and one of his hands had reached out from under the blanket, held in a loose fist. He'd curled in on himself in his sleep, lying on his side, and his breathing was steady, if a little wheezy at times. The exhaustion and following sickness hadn't entirely left him, but at least he was sleeping now. Entirely peaceful. His face was lax in a way that somehow made him look younger, so much more innocent. Like he hadn't gone through near ten years of torment.

Ox gently pushed the bangs away with a furred hand. Lou moved a little, eyebrows coming together in confusion before relaxing again. It was frankly adorable. "Like this... he looks like the old him."

"What do you mean?" Nolan asked, equally quiet. He knew of the past between Lou and Ox, how they were brothers until the betrayal on both ends, but not many specific details.

"He was so innocent back then. He'd been running this place for two years when I came along. As much as he taught me for the Big World, he learned from me." His eyes were glazed, looking off to the far wall at something Nolan couldn't see. A memory he couldn't experience. "Lou... he knew everything to do with dolls and teaching, but not the more personal words. Like friendship. Watching him figure it out, try to decipher it... it was as endearing as it was heartwrenching." He sighed and muttered something Nolan didn't think he was supposed to hear. "If I'd known everything going on in his head, all he would face, all he really knew, I would never have left."

Nolan didn't know what to say to that, so he did what he thought was best. With the hand that wasn't on Lou, he reached out and patted the bunny's shoulder. "You're here now. We're here now. We'll help him."

Ox's smile was fragile, but there. His eyes shone with determination. "That's right. He's got us, whether he likes it or not."

Lou shifted a little and Nolan drew his hand away from Ox, watching the former leader's eyelids flutter open a little, sapphire eyes groggy from deep sleep. They moved about lazily, meeting Nolan's eyes first, then Ox's. "Ox?" He questioned quietly, voice slurred with sleep. He had another hour before he needed to wake up, and Nolan really didn't want him to get up before he got his necessary sleep. He sent a panicked look to Ox, but the doll wasn't deterred at all. He climbed up onto the bed to sit beside Lou, resting a hand on the top of his head.

"Yeah, I'm right here and so is Nolan. Go back to sleep, buddy, you're safe." Ox said reassuringly, putting his other hand gently on Lou's rising and falling chest. "I promise. It's not time for you to wake up an' you need every ounce of sleep you can get. Dreamland time, okay?"

Lou stared up at him for a moment. Nolan's heart hammered in his chest, fueled by the worry Lou would disregard them and get up anyway. His worries were put to rest when he nodded dazedly and his eyes fell closed, head turning to lean more into Ox's hand. His breathing deepened out again after just a moment. Asleep. Nolan looked at the other doll in wonder.

"A little bit of assurance goes a long way," Ox said quietly, a soft smile on his face as he stared down at Lou. His brother. Nolan had the vague feeling that Ox had done this before to get Lou to sleep, maybe said those exact words. He swallowed down the questions burning in his mind and nodded, giving the older doll a soft smile that was returned.

Questions could wait for another time. Right now, Lou was sleeping peacefully with them to guard him. That's all that mattered right now.

_______________________

Lou's sickness had returned with a vengeance.

It wasn't serious, definitely not as bad without the exhaustion coupled with it, but Lucky Bat stayed around when he could, keeping close tabs on Lou's temperature and the severity of his headache. He slept now, curled up in his bed with dolls alternating a watch over him because Lou would try to get out of bed of they didn't. They'd gotten him changed into green silk pajamas, one of his favorite colors, and tucked into bed as soon as the sickness became apparent, but he was stubborn no matter what. If if hadn't been for an equally as stubborn doll being there to figure out what was wrong, he would've kept going and made the illness worse.

And who was that stubborn doll exactly? Well, it happened to be Mandy who caught on to Lou's declining health. She was currently sitting beside his bed in the armchair the dolls had hauled up from the living room, adjusting the cold rag on his forehead as he slept on. Night had fallen over the town and her child was asleep, her emotions dormant in the back of Mandy's mind. She wouldn't be needed for hours, and she planned to stay with Lou for all of it.

"Oh Lou," she whispered to her new friend, feeling her worry rise with every wheeze of his breath. "What are we going to do with you?" She settled back into the chair and tilted her head up, looking to the ceiling as she recalled when she figured out her friend was less than healthy....

Mandy had asked Lou to come over and help her rearrange her bedroom. Again. It wasn't much - just the desk and some things on the shelves. She couldn't seem to get it how she wanted it herself, so she texted the blonde for two reasons. One, to spend more time with him. Two, because he had an eye for decoration and organization. He'd replied almost immediately, appearing at her door ten minutes later. As soon as she opened it, he was rambling about furniture placing and the types of organization. She'd just laughed, let him upstairs, and let him go wild with what he thought. It was nice to see Lou so carefree. When in his element, he was truly confident in his actions and words, careful in every little detail. She helped where she could, including moving the desk vanity, and then let him do his thing with the shelving. By the end, it looked amazing. Exactly how she wanted yet couldn't articulate.

"Lou, this is awesome!" She'd said, moving around the room and admiring all the effort he'd put into reorganizing shelves. They'd hung her unused fairly lights as well, fixing up her bedroom with colorful lighting. If she'd been paying more attention to him then, she might've taken more notice in how he wiped his brow despite the AC going on full blast, or seen the slightly off sway to his usually so graceful and fluid walk. The one only Lou could truly master and pull off.

"Of course it is," he'd said, all playful confidence. It was getting easier to differentiate in his tones after three weeks of being his friend. "I have a mind for organization."

She'd chuckled. "You sure do." Mandy moved over and grabbed his hand, a gesture they all sometimes did with each other and especially Lou. He wasn't used to much physical affection, and hand holding was easing him into it, letting him known he had people around. It especially helped when they wanted to do something for him, but he didn't want to be entirely compliant. "Let me make you some tea. Moxy also made cookies yesterday - I need you to try them for another opinion." That's how they offered Lou things. He didn't want to take it often if it was offered directly, but phrased as something else? He'd accept majority of the time.

This time wouldn't be so easy. His brow scrunched up and a nervous flicker went through his eyes. "I really need to be going. I have some organizing to do at my house, too."

"Then I'll come with you. Four hands is better than two." She could see his hesitation. Lou worried he asked too much sometimes. She tightened her hold a little in a small squeeze. "I won't go if you don't want me to, but I'm offering. I want to help." She beamed at him. He returned it, if in a smaller smile. Progress.

"Okay then. We can... head over to my house." If she hadn't been so excited, she might have noticed the way his words wavered. Not because of nerves, but because of lack of focus. She released his hand and hurried down stairs, Lou taking them slower behind her, and packed up the cookies in a bag quickly. With a backpack full of notebooks, hair supplies, and cookies on her shoulder, she met Lou at the doorway. "Ready."

He gave her a smile that looked a bit tired, opening the door. She walked out beside him, watching his face from the side. In the light of the sun, he looked a bit tired and worn. What time was it? She glanced at her watch. Only twelve. It wasn't time for his scheduled nap yet. Did he stay up late last night? Get up too early? Have a nightmare and not tell anyone? Silently, she promised herself to get him to rest a bit early.

They reached his house soon enough. If she hadn't been looking at the pretty flowers that they had growing outside, she might have noticed how he struggled with getting his key in the lock, hand shaking. He got it open the moment she looked back, taking an exaggerated bow. "You first," he said cheekily.

With a playful eyeroll, she walked in, flicking his bangs in his face as she strolled by. He let out a little huff of breath but didn't try to fix it, walking in after her. More progress on convincing him that nothing was entirely perfect, she thought. They went to his kitchen first. It didn't look very used, but she often saw him at Wage's diner. Did he even know how to cook? She'd have to ask, maybe ask Moxy if he could join them in baking sometime. Mandy didn't know much herself, but Moxy liked to bake sweets and some other meals that tasted absolutely divine.

She settled the cookies on a plate, placing most in a careful stack that she hoped he'd appreciate. The others circled around the stack, either flat on the plate or leaned up against it. Presentation was key. Smiling, she turned back toward where Lou was. "Ready to try some great cookies- Lou!" Her smile instantly fell when her eyes landed on him, leaned up against the door frame with his arms wrapped around himself. She launched forward, reaching him just as his knees buckled. The female doll caught him and instantly pulled him to where his head rested on her shoulder. When the skin of her neck met his forehead, she could've cursed. He was burning up.

After a few seconds, he tried to get away from her, eyes zoned out and blinking rapidly. "S-sorry." A shiver swept through him. She pulled him back to lay against her, wrapping her arms around him. He struggled a little, but his strength was that of a kitten. "Mandy-"

"You have nothing to apologize for, Lou." She whispers, meeting his gaze with her own. She removed one of her arms to press the back of her hand against his forehead to better gauge his temperature, surprised and endeared to feel him lean into the touch. "Just tell me when you're feeling sick, okay?"

He didn't agree, but he rested more heavily against her, burying his face into her chest. It was as much as she would be able to get from him right now. Trying to quell her worry, she pulled one of his arms to wrap around her neck, then adjusted her position to pick him up, one arm under his knees and the other supporting his back. He made a muffled sound at being moved, but nothing else. She walked to the couch and settled him down on it, moving to sit so he could rest his head on her lap. Another shiver caused him to curl in on himself, and she grabbed the folded red blanket off the back of the couch, spreading it out over him. "Thank you." He muttered.

She ran a hand across his cheek, letting it trail into his hair. "Let's just get you feeling better." She whispered. "Why didn't you say anything?" Her question was gentle, carefully devoid of any accusation.

His eyes were half lidded as he answered. "I thought... I thought it would go away. I didn't sleep that much last night. I thought that was why." He squeezed his eyes shut and a hand clenched around her heart. "I... It wasn't this bad at your house, I swear, it happened so fast-" he was getting frantic. She shushed him, running a hand through his hair.

"It's okay. Just rest."

He blinked up at her owlishly. He was definitely pale faced except for the pink hue beginning to cover his cheeks. How did he get so bad so fast? She had to guess that part of it was his showmanship. He was definitely an actor when it came to playing the role of himself. Looking at him nowadays and a few months ago, she saw two different people. One was created due to a need for protection and perfection. Now he used his automatic showmanship to cover up his hardships, sometimes without even knowing it. He could act for them, but also for himself, and that made her heart hurt. After a long moment, he nodded. "I'm... tired."

She trailed her hands through his hair, trying not to show the worry that was coursing through her. "Then sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up." She hoped he would. Lack of sleep from the night before could play a factor in this downturn.

"Okay," he whispered, voice a little raspy. She wished she'd gotten some tea in him before, but too late now. His eyes slipped shut and a minute later his body slackened except for the occasional shudder. After she was sure he was deep asleep, away from his currently less than desired reality of being ill once again, she pulled her phone from her back pocket and texted the group chat about the situation. She didn't know much about treatment - that was Lucky Bat's area - and didn't think it would be safe to carry him to his bedroom by herself. The others would want to know about this, too.

It wasn't long before Ox and Lucky Bat appeared, bursting through the doorway as silently as possible. Ox immediately came to kneel by his brother, eyes wide with worry. Mandy could only share the look.

Hours later, they had him situated on his bed after Babo carried him up. They'd all done their share of fussing over blankets, Lou's hair, checking temperatures with their hands, fluffing pillows - everything. Most of them had to disappear to go to their kids after school got out, but Lou was never alone. It was Mandy's watch now, half the others asleep downstairs ans the other half with their night owl children. She sighed into the air, folding her hands together.

"Mandy?"

The quiet whisper caught her off guard and she jerked, glasses going askew. She fixed them and found Lou's eyes half open, looking at her with a gaze that wasn't fever layered. Instantly, she reached out to touch his neck and cheek. Cool as a cucumber. Relief ran through her and she let out a small laugh, scooping Lou up into a hug before she could think about what she was doing. After a moment of hesitation that she hoped was from her sudden action and not anxiety, his arms wrapped around her, his head finding its place on her shoulder. "I was so worried." She said quietly. "We all were."

"You all are a bunch of worry warts," he muttered, followed by a small chuckle. "Not actual warts, by the way."

She smiled. "I know."

They stayed like that for a minute, wrapped up in a hug that neither tried to pull away from. Another improvement on physical affection. If she were an actual doctor, she'd give Lou a prescription for hugs and affection. He'd missed out on it for most of the last decade and had his heart torn to shreds a million times over. Subconsciously, she held him closer and adjusted the blanket to still be around him.

It was him who broke the silence. "I didn't get any of those cookies." His voice was sleepy, content. He'd been sleeping for nine hours, but sickness really took it out of a doll.

She giggled. "I'm sure Moxy will make you a whole batch after this."

He hummed, not saying anything more. Mandy shifted to see his face and could only hold back a fond laugh. He'd fallen asleep with a smile on his face. "Goodnight, Lou," she whispered, placing him back on the bed. When he shifted back toward her, smile falling momentarily, she got into the bed beside him and wrapped her arms around his torso, curling up around him. He relaxed, smile returned, and slept, forehead against her chest and shoulders. His fluffy hair tickled her nose and she had to move her chin up so she wouldn't sneeze.

With limited movement, she pulled out her phone and texted with one hand, updating the others on how Lou woke up for a minute and his fever had broken, shortly followed by a photo of the two of them. She received no reply except the sound of quiet footsteps moving up the stairs. Soon, the dolls were surrounding the bed, relieved smiles all around. She smiled back, then her eyes zeroed in on Moxy. "He wants to try your cookies."

"I'll make him a ton," the pink doll whispered back as they all climbed onto the bed into a close doggie pile, Babo sitting near the top to keep watch. Lou shifted to snuggle down deeper into the warmth and arms around him.

A couple minutes later, different breathing patterns evened out into sleep, but Mandy was still awake. She leaned forward a little to press a kiss against Lou's forehead. "Sweet dreams, Louis."

She fell asleep beside him.

______________________

"He's completely out."

Ugly Dog found himself whispering that as he looked at Lou's face. The blonde was asleep for his nap time again, the day after sickness tried to drag him down. It had been a sudden turn that made them all worried, but he'd mostly bounced back after a couple of hours. He'd been confined to bed all morning under Lucky Bat's orders, which had made Lou pout, but they'd all played games with him that weren't taxing. They went through rounds of checkers (Lou won most the time due to his intelligently strategic mind, but Moxy got one over on him due to creativity and unexpectedness), charades, eye spy - everything they could think of to keep Lou from getting bored. It worked. In fact, it worked so well that they all got caught up in the games to the point where they missed the first hour of Lou's initial naptime.

But now, with no one but the two smaller dolls here, he'd managed to fall asleep roughly fifteen minutes ago. His breathing was deep and without much of a wheeze now, but before he went to sleep, Lucky Bat asked him questions about how he felt. Lou had tentatively admitted that his head still hurt at times. He'd went to sleep shortly after.

Lucky Bat came over with a cool, damp rag held on his wing. "Yeah, he is." He whispered back, hopping up onto the bed. He placed the cloth along Lou's forehead. "This should help with the headache. A bit more sleep and he should be good to go. He'll just have to take it slow for a little while." He jumped back down. "I'm going to go get some water from the kitchen for him. Stay here?"

"Of course." Ugly Dog nodded and watched as his friend left, then looked back at Lou. He'd turned a little in his sleep, knocking the rag off in the first few seconds it had been in place. With a fondly exasperated huff, the dog doll jumped on the bed. He used his paw to fix the cloth and went to jump off, only for a weight to land on his back. Lou's arm was slung over him as he'd turned over again. This perplexed him. All the times he'd seen Lou sleep, he hadn't moved around so much. He stayed near stock still, only moving to curl in on himself or press against someone else. When he experimentally tried to move away a little, Lou didn't budge his arm.

'Guess I'm staying here for a little bit,' he thought, settling down on top of the blankets. He looked at Lou's face again. 'We severely misjudged him. He's good at his masks because he's been burned too much. If only we'd seen it before...' The thought line made him sad. Lou only needed help. Anyone would have snapped when in his position, probably earlier than he did. A part of him wondered what Lou was like all those years ago, before he lost his innocence to trauma. Ox once described him as similar to a child. Knew a lot, but also not enough. They didn't know exactly what being a prototype meant. Only Lou did, and he was slow to let them beyond his walls. Understandable, honestly. They did hurt him.

What did it mean to be a prototype? A doll, yet different? What was he programmed with? What was he meant to be? A leader and teacher, obviously, but what else? Lou struggled a lot with perfection, even around them. They could see it in his stance and his eyes. He wanted to be perfect, unable to understand that perfection wasn't achievable or needed. How would they convince him? Ugly Dog wasn't sure, but he knew it would take time. Lots of time. And love. And care.

'Maybe we could get him back to teaching again,' he thought. 'The robots teach, but they put a lot of dolls to sleep with monotone voices. Lou's teaching was right. His methods were just questionable.' He doubted he would keep doing the crueler side of his lessons. The washing machine was gone anyway, and Lou was acting like a whole other person most the time.

A small sound caught his attention. A whimper. His eyes, which he hadn't known closed, snapped open to look at Lou. The blonde's face was scrunched up in fear and he withdrew his arm from the dog doll, clutching both his limbs to his chest almost protectively. "Lou?" Ugly Dog whispered, getting up and inching over to him. "Louis?" As much as he hated the name, he didn't entirely mind if they used it now. Sometimes. Lou didn't respond, only curling in on himself further, his eyes squeezed shut.

Not knowing what else to do, Ugly Dog reached out and shook his shoulder. "Lou, wake up, it's just a nightmare." No response. "Lou, Lou," he repeated, getting a little more frantic. "Come on, man." Finally, a flutter of eyelids and a small gasp. "There you are." He tried to smile. "You're okay."

Lou's light blue eyes met his, only to fill with tears. Ugly Dog's heart hurt. This was Lou at one of his low points. A time when he couldn't drag up his brick walls. When he was vulnerable. "Aw, dude," the dog said, trying to figure out how to fix this. Lou sniffed, his arms going lax, and the doll got an idea. He pawed one of Lou's arms up and put it around him, then settled down right up against the doll's chest.

Lou's muscles tensed up and Ugly Dog wondered if he should regret his idea. His new friend wasn't exactly the best with physical affection of any kind. Even shoulder pats had scared him at times. After a moment, he went to move, only for Lou's arm to securely wrap around him in a hug. Ugly Dog's heartrate jumped with happiness as his friend held him like a child would a stuffed animal, just as he'd done to Moxy. Except this was a more conscious decision. Progress.

"It's okay, Lou," he comforted when the leader started to shake a little, feeling tears drop onto the back of his head. "Everything is okay. It wasn't-" he stopped. Lou told them last time that his nightmares could be real things, real memories. Like with the doll Sofia. A distant part of his mind wondered if they could ever find her again, let her and Lou meet once more, but he brushed it away for now. Lou needed him in the present. "It's okay. Nothing is going to hurt you."

Lou settled down after a minute, breathing still choppy but no more tears. Another minute past and he went mostly lax, still hugging Ugly Dog. The dog doll settled down further against Lou, offering comfort in the best way he knew how. He was often the hyperactive jokester of the bunch, but he could be calm when needed to be. Like right now.

The click of a camera snapping caught his attention. Lucky Bat was at the door, holding up a Polaroid camera with a smile. "This is adorable." He chuckled, taking the photo out. The pitcher of water and glass he'd went to get were on the desk.

Ugly Dog glared, but he knew it wasn't convincing considering his position. "Not adorable. Cool."

"Fine, it's cool." He settled the camera and photo down to grab the water, moving it to the bedside table. "How is he?"

"Calm now. Had a momentary hiccup with dreams, but he's chill." He relaxed the glare. "I think I'm gonna stay here with him. My kid is going to an after school sport anyway."

"I don't think you have much of a choice with staying, unless you want to wake him up." Ugly Dog looked at him like that was the worst thing he could've suggested. His friend smiled. "I thought so." He went back and grabbed the camera, leaving the photo behind for Lou's album. "I'll be back when I can. My kid will be needing me soon."

"Bye, dude." He watched the door shut, then closed his own eyes, content to be with his friend and keep the nightmares away.

_______________________

"Time to wake up, Lou!"

Lou held back a groan, turning his head into the pillow. He didn't want to get up. Had it really been two hours already? After the excitement of the last few days, with them all working to get him into better light with the dolls and even throwing a party for the entirety of Imperfection last night, he was tired. Sleep hadn't come easy last night either, with his worries of not being accepted and anxiety over what was ahead. Ox wanted him to be a co-mayor eventually and made the suggestion last night, leaving Lou with buzzing thoughts.

He did not want to wake up from this nap. As much as he'd hated them (and still did), he'd come to appreciate them and the reasoning behind having them. He didn't like to sleep in the middle of the day and they were becoming less and less needed, sometimes even skipped all together, but he could appreciate that when he was tired, they were there. Except now it was over and Moxy was trying to get him out of bed.

"Louuuuuu~" she sang, opening the blinds. He pressed his eyes shut tighter. A moment later, his bed was moving and she was jumping on it. "You gotta wake up! Don't you remember what you've got to do in an hour?" Her jumps were coming toward him, almost beside his head.

"No," he muttered, his mind waking up. His brain was slow to get the gears turning, mind still groggy. Most the time, he could wake up instantly. Before being overthrown, he woke before dawn, either from nightmares or a detrimental sleep schedule, and always was on his feet in a few seconds. Now, he understood that he didn't have to have that instant wake up to make sure of his perfection. He could take things slower. "Wha' do I need to do?" He turned, rubbing at his eyes as they blinked against the light. Moxy's form shaded him, her bouncing stopping as she grinned down at him.

"It's your first day of teaching again, silly!" She pulled the blankets away, then grabbed his hand as his brain had stuttered to a momentary stop. "Come on! You need to get ready! Can't meet the dolls in pajamas, can you?"

"N-no, no, I can't." His mouth finally worked. His body followed suit, allowing him to climb out of bed. Moxy practically pushed him into his walk-in closet full of suits that weren't just repetitive black tuxes. Nolan had made him three in different, solid colors, and promised more. Lou had protested, but all he got in response was that his black suits needed a lot more color. He also was given several other shirts besides his white button up. His mind fully awake, he ran his hand over some suits and shirts, trying to decide. 'How about a mix of the old and the new?' He thought, grabbing a black tux and a dark blue undershirt.

After changing, he made his way downstairs, looking for where Moxy had run off to as he fixed his suit cuffs. As soon as his feet were on solid ground, a hand grabbed his arm and yanked him toward the kitchen. He had to stifle a yelp of surprise, allowing himself to be dragged by Moxy into the kitchen. Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, Mandy was there, holding a bag full of hair salon supplies.

She looked appraisingly at his change in style. Up until this point, he'd been too nervous to wear much of the other styles, fearing others thoughts on it. Today was different. His first class since... before. He wanted to show them all he was different. "I love the style, Lou." Moxy let go of his hand only for Mandy to reach over and grab it, pulling him to sit in the chair. "Now for your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" He asked, an old panic rising up. He was having a hard time getting his supposed to be perfect mentality out of the way, especially when it came to his appearance. He didn't have bed head, nor were his bangs in his eyes.

"Nothing," she was quick to assure. "Just want to try something. And maybe I like to play with it." She ran a hand through his golden threads for emphasis. It was no secret his hair was pretty soft, having been handmade. As much as he was the 'perfect mold' in a teacher stand point, no other doll looked like him. He was a prototype, after all.

He huffed out a small laugh, folding his hands in his lap and letting Mandy do her thing as he tried to veer away from the prototype line of thought. Maybe he couldn't have a kid, but at least his existence wasn't so soul crushingly lonely anymore. Like it had been for the last nine years.

A chocolate chip cookie was shoved into his face. "I made cookies!" Moxy announced. He took it from her hand, offering a smile. "Thanks." She grinned and hugged him, but what really surprised him was when she whispered in his ear, "You can't be sad with a cookie, but if you still are, that's okay. You've got this." She pulled away, gave him a nod, and headed back to the oven. Warmth filled Lou's chest. A good kind. One he was slowly becoming more and more acquainted with. He looked at the cookie and took a bite. Moxy's cookies really were amazing. Chocolate chip and macadamia nut were his favorites.

"There we go! How do you like it?" Mandy put a mirror in front of Lou. He peered into it, examining the small changes. His hair was slightly flatter, longer in the back, and it curled up around his ears a little. His hair was mostly straight, yes, but there was a little curl to it that most people didn't notice. Mandy had.

"I... I love it. Thank you, Mandy. You do have an eye for hair style."

"And you're just figuring this out now?" She joked, moving the mirror and supplies.

"Yes, I've been blind to it this whole time." They laughed. He stood and Mandy turned him around by the shoulder, fixing a last piece of hair. "Remember," she muttered where he could hear, "you don't have to be perfect for them. Even teachers aren't perfect. Got it?"

It was a hard thought to swallow. He couldn't promise anything. "I'll try to remember that." He conceded. She smiled gently.

"All you need to do is try and that will be enough."

Just try. He could do that. No sheer pressure to try and drag him under. Just an attempt.

Moxy shoved a brown paper sack of cookies into his hands. "Macadamia, chocolate chip, and a new flavor - blizzard sprinkle." She presented. He gave her a thanks, almost overwhelmed by just cookies. Cookies with love. Love he'd been starved of for too long. Mandy hooked her arm with his, leading him out the front door. A few steps out, he was met by Nolan, Babo, Ox, Lucky Bat, and Ugly Dog.

"First day of class, man!" Ugly Dog was practically vibrating where he stood, ocassionally jumping around. "You're going to do great," Lucky Bat told him, smiling. Lou felt a bit overwhelmed again due to all the compliments. Back when he was the leader, he got compliments when people were trying to get him on their 'side.' He could strut down a runway, singing and dancing, but none of the compliments were genuine to the thread, unless it was from a new batch of dolls who didn't yet know who he was. Those little moments of sunshine didn't last long. Mentally shaking himself out of the thought, he thanked both dolls.

Babo was holding something behind his back. Before he could ask what it was, the grey doll revealed it. It was a leaf green satchel. Rectangular in shape with two smaller pockets outside the big one, tucked underneath a flap. The small pockets held pencils and sticky notes, from what he could see. "It's a gift," he explained at Lou's dumbfounded look. "I think having things on hand is useful, Nolan knows how to sew, and everyone else got some teacher things to put in it so you'll be prepared for your first day back in action." Ox took the bag by the long strap and put it over a frozen Lou's head, letting the padded strap sit on his right shoulder, the bag settling easily against his hip like it was made for him. It had some weight to it, and he picked up the flap to see two colored binders inside, pencils, pens, markers, a notebook, and even a small bag of peppermints, his favorite candy.

For a second, his brain refused to work. They were all grinning at him, Mandy's arm still hooked around his, and the sheer amount of love from them was setting him on the fritz. They even banned together to get him a gift - a hand sewn satchel with absolutely everything he would need to be a teacher again. To do the thing he'd missed so much. It was overwhelming in the best way.

"Lou, you okay?" Nolan asked. It was then he realized he hadn't said anything in a long minute and his eyes were beginning to well up with happy tears. He took a second to blink them away, then looked at them all.

"Yes, I'm fine. Better than fine. This... this is amazing, guys." He could hardly get the words out due to how tight his throat was getting. "I love it. Thank you so much."

A chorus of "your welcomes" and "no problem Lou" met him. Moxy took the bag of cookies and put it in his new bag. "All set," she said as they all started walking toward the building where dolls who'd suffered through several classes with mundane robots and struggling to pass were. Some of his classes would be outside in an open area, but that was for the obstacle course to train for the Gaunlet. His other classes would be inside a colorful building that had a main classroom, cafeteria, and library. It was a recent building that the robots had created and everyone else got together to paint.

As they headed there, he noticed how some of the others were giggling and almost tripping over themselves. 'They're trying to walk like me,' he realized after following how Nolan's feet and hips were trying to imitate what the others called his 'sassy walk.' It wasn't exactly a thing he consciously did. When he needed to be confident in his earlier years, he found the smooth walk helped him. Over time, it became a subconscious thing. When he'd tried to stop, fearing it was a bad divide between him and the others, Mandy had pointed out how it was original. Unique in a way that wasn't the same as him being a prototype versus them being dolls. He didn't try to stop after that.

As they came closer to the building, Ox clapped him on the shoulder with his paw. "It's gonna be a great class, Professor Lou. They're gonna love you."

"Yeah, Professor Lou!" Nolan followed.

Lou almost facepalmed. "I'm not a professor. I'm just... Lou."

"Louis," Moxy edited. He gave her a glare that surely bordered on a pout, judging by her increase in smile. "Professor Louis."

"You're all insufferable."

Everyone laughed. He couldn't hold the glare up, caving into a smile. His heart and head felt lighter than they ever had when walking to teach a class - something that was slightly strange considering he weighed more with the satchel. His hand unconsciously wrapped around the strap, making sure it was still there. Still real. This was happening. He had friends, love, and he was going back to teach again. The looks he got while walking up the sidewalk weren't all full of scorn. If tentative, they were friendly. He was no longer being crushed by his cage of loneliness. His friends were his wings, and he was soaring higher than he ever had on stage.

If this was a dream, he didn't want to wake up.

But he knew it wasn't a dream. He'd taken enough naps, slept beside friends, and been carried around enough to know that this was no dream. This was reality.

For the first time in a long time, it was a reality he wanted to live.

__________________

Lou jerked awake in bed, breathing hitching up in his chest. There was a wetness on the sides of his face. Tears. Tears that wouldn't stop and images that wouldn't quit replaying in his mind. Sofia. Recycling. Fire. Robotic dog. Giant baby. Failure. Failure. Failure. Prototype. A stupid prototype.

He dragged himself out of bed, entire body trembling. The blinds were partly open, allowing him to see the beginnings of sunrise. 'It's just like waking up in the mansion,' he thought, a shudder running through his body. 'Don't think about that. Don't think about it. You're not in that place. That empty, dreary, tiring place...' He shook himself physically, arms wrapping around his frame in an attempt to give himself the hug. It wasn't the same as being hugged by a friend.

Friends. It was too early for them to be awake, and he didn't exactly want to bother them, not when they were about to leave for their respective kids in an hour or two. He knew they'd say they wouldn't mind, but he'd be depriving them of sleep. While they weren't there physically, he did have something else. On unsteady feet, he made his way to his first bookshelf. On top of it, in the very middle, was a framed photo of him with all his friends, smiling and happy. They were gathered for the group photo by a big log in the park. Moxy, Ugly Dog, and Lucky Bat were sitting on the log. Lou stood behind them, Nolan on his left and Mandy on his right, their arms slung across his shoulders. Ox stood on the end of the log, and Babo was on the other end. Everyone was happy, laughing at some joke Moxy made instead of having them say the typical 'cheese!'

They took it three days ago. He was so glad to have it now. He grabbed it, frame and all, off the bookshelf and curled up on his bed, pressing it to his chest. The hard edges dug into his threads, but he didn't care. It was calming. The picture was a reminder that whole he was physically alone, he wasn't really alone. He was in a cottage made of love, not a mansion. He was a teacher in a good way. He was living a better life than he ever had, all thanks to them. No more isolation. No more loneliness. No more crying in the dark with no one to guide him to the light. He'd been alive for nearly a decade, but it felt like he was actually breathing.

He was making progress. Sometimes it was slow, but it was progress all the same. He was getting better. He was living.

Slowly, he managed to calm down from his nightmare. He would talk to them later, or just be with them. Remind himself that nothing was like his nightmare. Not anymore. For now, he let his eyes close and breathing deepen, falling asleep with the knowledge that he was loved.

[elen-aranel]

Ok. Don’t worry. I just want to see if you could do one where Christopher Pike is taking care of his wife after she gets side effects from a shot she had to get.

As long as it’s not pushing you out of your comfort zone.

The weather is grey and cold and writing this has made me feel warm. Thank you so much for my first ever request @sitkafay I really hope you like it 💖

Side Effects May Include

Pairing: Christopher Pike x F!Reader (no Y/N) Warnings: fluff, reader is sick WC: 1660 Tag list: @jusvibbbin (to be added to my Pike X Reader taglist let me know)

“It’s bad. Ensign Parsons almost died. Some humans are particularly susceptible, according to Phil.” Chris takes a bite of the pasta carbonara you synthesised for dinner. You thought your husband might need some comfort food – today had been tough.

The transporter’s bio filters hadn’t picked up the infection when the away team beamed back from the planet the Enterprise had been surveying a couple of days ago. So by the time the first person got sick, it had already infected almost all of exobiology and the beta-shift security team.

“They developed an antiviral and a vaccine, though, right?” You say, concerned, taking a sip of your synthesised white wine.

“Yes. Phil came up and administered the vaccine to the bridge crew already, and engineering are going to sickbay to get their doses overnight. Everyone else gets theirs tomorrow.” Chris sighs a little and you see the worry in his blue eyes. “It could have been a lot worse – it’s only as infectious as Earth’s flu, so locking down the ship has worked. Phil said it if had been as infectious as measles we could have been looking at multiple fatalities, even with the antiviral.” He sighs a little and you put your fork down and reach out for your husband’s hand.

“Too close for comfort,” you say, and he nods. You both take a moment, then he brightens up.

“You all right to work from ’home’ tomorrow?”

“I expect I’ll cope.” You grin, happy to see his dimpled smile in return.

*

It’s odd having to synthesise a mask to wear to go to sickbay. Environmental control has been set to filter the virus in the air, but the ship is a closed system and Chris – Captain Pike, you remind yourself; he may be your husband but you are on duty – has let Boyce take the lead. The CMO is not taking any chances.

You sit on a bio bed as a Nurse T’Hara scans you.

“I have confirmed you do not have any of the virus in your system. With your permission I will now administer the vaccine. You should have full immunity within eighteen hours, but prior to that you may experience some side effects as your immune system adjusts. We estimate the probability of this to be less than five percent based on the crew who have received this treatment so far.”

You nod, understanding. Chris didn’t have any side effects, so hopefully you won’t either.

She presses a hypo spray to your neck.

*

Back in your quarters you sit at Chris’s desk, PADD in hand. You look out at the stars going by at warp. In three days the ship is due to scan a nebula with some interesting subspace properties, and you are working on a proposal for the best way to scan it – routes round the nebula and sensor optimisation, as well as probes, possibly to collect more data and to take samples. You love when Enterprise has a spatial phenomenon to investigate – stars drew you to Starfleet in the first place, and you love being on the cutting edge of astrophysics. The proposal is almost done, and you’re due to send it to Spock by 12:00 after you reread it and cross check your supporting data.

But somehow it’s difficult to concentrate. Maybe it’s the way you can see the stars going by? Your office doesn’t have a window, and you don’t usually use this desk. Chris has so much paperwork to handle you understand that he can’t do it all in his ready room; you like that you get to spend time with him as he works. But you don’t often bring work back to your quarters, and if you do you usually sit on the sofa.

You get up and stretch, and walk across to the sofa. You feel like you do the day after you’ve had a particularly rough workout. But the ship went into lockdown before you and Maryam – Lieutenant Ahmed, your friend in security – could have your weekly sparring session yesterday. Weird.

You sit down, tucking your legs under you, and get back to your proposal. You manage to read and edit a couple more sections. There’s only double checking the referenced data to do now. You shake your head a little; you feel a bit spaced out. Not quite connected with your body.

“Computer, what time is it?”

“The current time is 09:55.”

You have time to take a little break. You put your PADD aside, and rub your eyes. You could just shut them for a few minutes – your head is aching a bit, but it’ll probably be fine in five minutes or so.

*

“Sweetheart?”

Someone wants something. But your head is aching and you’re so drowsy. If you ignore them they’ll go away.

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

You blink, opening your eyes, squinting. Chris’s face is right in front of you, his blue eyes staring into yours, worried.

“’m fine,” you say. But your voice sounds a little rough. “What’re you doing here?”

“Spock was expecting you to send that proposal. When you didn’t we commed you but you didn’t reply.”

He reaches out a hand and holds the back of it against your forehead. It’s pleasantly cool and you lean into the touch, sighing a little as he flips his hand round and strokes your cheek.

“Sorry. I had a bit of a headache. Thought I’d just close my eyes for a few minutes. Don’t know what happened. What time is it now?”

“13:00. You’re a bit warm. how do you feel?”

“Not great. My head’s pounding, and if I’d known I’d fall asleep I’d have gone to bed.” You groan as you shift. “My muscles are all ache-y, and the sofa hasn’t helped.”

Chris presses a kiss to your forehead. “Sounds like you’re having a reaction to the vaccine. Sickbay reported that a few people had. Come on, let’s get you a little more comfortable.” He puts an arm round you and helps you stretch your legs out along the sofa. He grabs a couple of throw cushions and props them behind your back.

“Don’t you need to get back to the bridge?” As sick as you feel you know that Chris has to prioritise the ship; one of the things you love about him is his commitment to the people under his care.

“Number One has the conn. Actually I’d planned to get caught up on crew evals in the ready room while everything was quiet, but...” you see the love in his eyes as he stands. “You need me. Can’t neglect you when you feel like this.”

“If you’re sure,” you say, glad that he’s staying, but still feeling the need to check. You close your eyes again, now feeling a bit cold.

Next thing you know Chris’s strong arm is around you, and there’s a delicious smell in front of your nose. You open your eyes – Chris must have dimmed the lights because you don’t need to squint anymore.

“Chicken soup. It’ll make you feel better.”

You take a small sip from the cup he’s holding in front of you. It’s the perfect temperature, hot but not too hot, and the savoury flavour bursts across your tongue, familiar somehow, and soothing. You hum in pleasure, and take another sip, bringing your hands up to hold the cup.

“Mom made the program after you said you liked it last time we visited. It’s the soup she put in a flask for us when we went for a ride on the last evening we were there. She said it won’t be as good as homemade, but she hoped you’d like it anyway. I’ve been keeping it to surprise you... now seemed like a good time.”

“Thank you,” you say, leaning back into him. You remember that ride – he had taken you to his favourite place for stargazing as a kid, and you had sat there looking at the Milky Way, the horses nearby, you and Chris snuggled under blankets, warm together in the cool desert night. You need to thank her, you think, when you feel better.

“Thought this was the best to get some food into you, get you hydrated.” He squeezes you and kisses your temple. “Would you like to go to bed?”

“You have reports to go through, right? Maybe I can sit with you, while you read them here?”

“We can do that,” he says, voice warm, and he helps you move up so he can sit next to you. He flips the throw from the back of the sofa down over you, then he pulls you against him, and you lean back. He puts an arm round you again, and holds his PADD in his other hand. You doze, feeling comforted.

*

“...should resolve by themselves? Thanks. Yeah. I’ll make sure. Let me know if you— All right. Pike out.”

“Hmm?”

“Phil. He wants me to keep you hydrated, but thinks you’ll feel better by the morning.”

You stretch against him. You’re already feeling a bit more yourself – your headache is easing, even though your muscles are still a bit sore.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Chris. You—you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. In sickness and in health, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m going to get you some water, then something to eat if you can manage it, then hot shower to soothe those muscles, then bed. How does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect. But—”

“Your proposal? Spock has it. He’s pleased, says your idea to use the probes is a good one.”

“You think of everything, don’t you?” You swing your legs round, pulling away from him a little as you sit up, keeping the throw over your bottom half. You turn toward him, reaching out to touch his face. His mouth quirks into a smile.

“I’m not Captain for nothing, sweetheart.” He leans toward you and gives you a gentle kiss.

[thirstyforcharacters]

Pay Your Penance (sub! Tony Stark x domme! Reader)

Summary: Tony forgot your anniversary, and he's eager to make it up to you.

Notes: Hello! I thought up this one-shot while I was watching online recitals for college (I seem to have a pattern of writing smut during class lol). I hope everyone enjoys this one, and thank you for reading! (use of she/her pronouns, no y/n)

Warnings: smut! 18+ only! very light angst, spanking, oral sex (fem receiving), pegging, dominant reader, sub Tony

WC: (almost) 2.6 k

Two days.

It had been two days since you had spoken to Tony. He deserved it, you justified. He forgot your three year anniversary. He had made the reservations to go to your favorite restaurant and sworn off work of any kind for the entire day in favor of spending it with you.

Needless to say, you were pretty pissed off when he was nowhere to be found throughout the day, only to find him in the workshop at 10:00 pm, making upgrades to his suits. You couldn’t believe that he had forgotten. And you let him know that. After a long chewing out, you had completely ignored him for two days. He didn’t make it easy to do that; his extroverted demeanour was difficult to ignore. But you managed. Up until now.

The two of you were having an extremely tense dinner back at your place. The past two days, you had eaten dinner alone. Tonight, you decided you would at least grace him with your presence, even if you wouldn’t do the same with conversation. No looks were even spared in his direction, though you could feel his eyes burning into you. Every sharp intake of breath from him caused you to take a sip of wine in an attempt to get him not to speak. Eventually, though, he did anyway.

“Please, darling. I’m sorry.”

The quaver in his voice caused you to glance up from your pasta. That was a mistake. You could see how glassy his eyes were and the guilt etched across his face. His hands were shaking, and you were sure they were clammy. His mouth was turned downwards in a frown that you usually would never want to see, and his bottom lip was trembling. You placed your fork on the table and rested your chin on your hands, silently prompting him to speak.

“Baby, I’m truly sorry. I don’t know what came over me, but there is absolutely no excuse for what I did. You mean the world to me; I’m ridiculously happy that you let me into your life. Which makes me feel all the more guilty for forgetting something this important. I promise that it will never happen again; I’ll program F.R.I.D.A.Y. to remind me every day for a week beforehand so I never forget again. But I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry for putting you through that pain, and I will never do anything to hurt you like that ever again. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

The sincerity in his tone struck you. You could practically see the guilt washing over him in strong waves. Sadness radiated off of him in a way that you had never seen before. And you did miss him, you really did. You missed his smile, the crinkles that would appear beside his eyes when he laughed, the scratch of his facial hair when he kissed you on the cheek, and the soft murmurs of “I love you” that would accompany every gesture of affection he gave you. But you still wanted to make him work for it, being the stubborn thing you were. And you knew exactly what you wanted him to do.

You arched your eyebrow, “Anything?”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly at the sound of your voice, “Anything, darling.”

You made eye contact with him then, missing the feeling of his chocolate brown eyes staring into yours. But swiftly after, your eyes swept downwards, eyeing up the swell of his lips and the way the t-shirt he was wearing clung to his biceps. You couldn’t help but have his punishment be of a sensual nature; you had both always been very sexually intimate people. Your bodies had a way of conveying what couldn’t be said with words.

“After we finish eating, I want you upstairs in our room, stripped and kneeling at the edge of the bed while I get some things ready. When I come back, you’re going to get your punishment, then you’re going to make me cum. If you’re good, I’ll let you cum after. Understood?”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing enticingly, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.”

You fell back into silence once more, though this one was more anticipatory than awkward. You could tell he was excited at the prospect of paying his penance, and was looking forward to things going back to normal between the two of you. You were looking forward to it as well; you missed him, though you wouldn’t admit it, of course.

It wasn’t long before the two of you finished your meal. You took the trek back to your bedroom together, and while Tony busied himself with obeying your commands, you disappeared into the closet to get some tools for the night ahead: a red and gold paddle for the punishment, and lube and a deep blue dildo (hopefully) for his reward. When you re-entered your bedroom with your tools in hand, you were pleased to find Tony nude and kneeling by the bed as requested. His head turned to you as you entered and he gave you a soft smile. You returned it as you set the dildo and lube on the nightstand for later use. You sat on the edge of the bed and tilted his chin so he was looking up at you. You kissed him sweetly as you gripped the paddle in your hands, contrasting the roughness of the punishment he was about to receive.

“Lay across my lap.”

Your voice was commanding, and he didn’t care disobey. He draped himself across your legs, ass up in the air and now hard cock pressing into your thigh.

“Tell me your safeword, sweetheart,” you told him, bringing the paddle up in preparation.

“Gauntlet,” he whispered back.

“Good boy,” you cooed, before bringing the paddle down to smack against his left cheek.

He made a soft noise of shock; you took him by surprise that time. But the two you landed on his right cheek in rapid succession didn’t. The next harsh smack made him gasp out, and the one that followed made him grip the sheets below him, whimpering into the mattress.

“That’s it, love. Taking your punishment like a good boy,” you crooned.

“Wanna be good for you,” he murmured back, slightly muffled by the mattress he was face down on.

You laid down five more smacks, and by the end, his soft gasps turned into moans. You could feel his hard-on pressing more insistently into your thigh. His ass was bright red; you knew it would be a struggle for him to sit tomorrow.

“All done, love. You did so wonderfully for me,” you said with a gentle smile.

“Thank you,” he replied softly, returning your smile.

“Why don’t you get on your knees for me, baby?”

He did as you told, kneeling directly in front of you and looking up at you adoringly. You placed the paddle beside you on the bed and spread your legs for him in invitation.

It didn’t take a doctorate for him to know what you wanted him to do. He crawled forward until his face was directly in front of your heat, stabilizing his hands on your thighs, and you knew that you were already dripping. You honestly had been since you had thought this up, excited to get him between your thighs and feel the scratch of his beard against your cunt.

The first press of his lips against you already had you reeling, but you knew how to reign it in. You gripped his hair tightly, holding him in place as his tongue licked between your folds, licking up your wetness. He went at it with enthusiasm and fervor; not only did he want to make this up to you, but he normally enjoyed eating you out just as much as you did. He loved the feeling of having you dripping down his chin, moaning unabashedly as you yanked on his hair. He loved your taste, and he loved when you were in control. He moved slightly from between your lower lips and sucked your clit into his mouth, which drew the first moan from you.

“Just like that, baby. Doing so well for me,” you praised.

You felt him smile against you as he continued to lavish your clit with attention. He had always had a bit of a praise kink. He finished your assault on your clit when you tugged him back down to your folds, and his tongue pressed deep inside of you, wanting to bring you to your release. The soft gasps of pleasure above him told him that he was fulfilling his goal. You slowly ground your hips into his face, spreading your wetness down his chin. He buried his nose into your cunt as he licked deeply, moaning at the taste of you. You tugged his hair roughly, eliciting another whine from him.

“So close, bub. Just a little more.”

He moved one of his hands from your thighs to your center and began toying with your clit while redoubling his efforts with his tongue.

“Fuck yeah, babe. Fuck,” you cursed as your orgasm washed over you.

He continued lapping at you through your high until you tugged him away from overstimulation. You smirked when you saw his face coated with your wetness. He blushed and wiped most of it off with his fingers, licking off teasingly. You chuckled gently and leaned down so you could kiss him, and you groaned softly at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

“That was great, baby. You’ve been such a good boy for me. Think it’s about time that you get rewarded,” you cooed.

He grinned up at you, “Thank you, honey.”

“Of course, Tony. Get on the bed for me on your back.”

He went obediently, laying on his back and spreading his legs for you. You grabbed the lube and the dildo and kneeled between his spread legs.

“So gorgeous for me,” you murmured.

His shy smile soon grew hungrier at the sight of you lubing up two of your fingers. He knew better than to get impatient, so he flopped his head down onto the pillow, eagerly awaiting the first press of your fingers inside of him.

You came over to him then, with slick fingers, the dildo and more lube in tow.

“Just gonna open you up first,” you stated.

You traced one of your lubed up fingers around the rim, not yet pushing it inside. His hole fluttered at the feeling and a soft, pleading whine fell from his lips. You couldn’t help but smirk as you slowly worked your first finger in since the moans that began to spill from him were already quite desperate.

“You already sound close, babe. Better hold it until I get that dildo inside of you,” you remarked as you sunk your finger in up to the knuckle.

The action drew a soft sob of pleasure from him, and you crooked your finger inside of him to hear more of those pretty noises.

Soon enough, you were asking, “Ready for a second, baby?”

He nodded vigorously, “Please! I can take it! Please!”

“It’s okay, baby. Don’t need to beg, I’ve got you,” you consoled as the tip of your second finger breached his hole.

He cried out desperately and ground his hips into your fingers, forcing your second finger in just as deep as the first. You scissored your fingers in him, stretching him out even more. You wanted to make sure that Tony was ready for it; you never wanted him to be in pain.

But soon he was begging for more, “Please, darling. I can take it, I’m ready. Need it so bad, please. Need you.”

“Does my good boy need to get fucked? Needs this dildo to ruin his tight, little hole?” you taunted, holding your dominance over his head.

“Yes! Need you to fuck me, please. Never needed it more. Please, baby, please.”

You always enjoyed when Tony got like this, when all he could think of was you. So, you gave in to his begging and removed your fingers, then coated the dildo in a generous amount of lube. You lined the dildo up with his waiting hole.

“Ready?”

The question was more of a formality; you knew he was ready, but you always wanted to be sure.

“Yes. ‘M ready.”

You slowly pushed in, allowing him time to adjust to the size of the toy. He moaned unabashedly at the feeling and pushed his hips into the dildo, forcing it deeper.

“Greedy, aren’t you?” you teased, pulling the toy back out of him.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry. Please. Please,” he begged, desperate for you to continue.

You smirked and suddenly slammed the full length of the toy into him, causing a broken cry to fall from his lips. He writhed underneath you as you continued your punishing pace, fucking into him roughly with no sign of stopping.

You used your free hand to guide his hands up to his nipples. He immediately began toying with them, and his moans grew louder. Your free hand then gripped his cock, and you began working it with slow strokes, still teasing him. A faster tug of your hand accompanied by a harsh slam of the toy made his back arch and he cried out.

“Please, honey. I’m so close.”

You quickened your pace with the dildo and he almost shrieked in pleasure.

“There it is,” you muttered, and drilled into the same spot over and over again.

Tears of pleasure sprang to his eyes as you sped up your strokes on his cock. Later, he would be embarrassed at the noise he made when he came, but for now, he didn’t care. The scream that tore itself from his throat was like music to your ears as he coated your hand in his cum. You continued to fuck him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, then slowly pulled the toy out and layed it on the nightstand.

For a while, you just held him, stroking his hair gently and murmuring how good he was for you. Eventually, he came back down and smiled sleepily up at you.

“Was that nice?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

He nodded, “Yeah. Always is.”

You pressed a light kiss to his forehead, “I’m gonna get something to clean you up with, okay?”

He nodded again and you gathered the toys and put them back in the closet. Then, you grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and returned to Tony’s side, wiping up the cun that was still on his body. You cleaned what was still on your hand as well, then chucked the washcloth across the room and cradled your boyfriend in your arms.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, turn off the lights, please,” you requested.

As the light dimmed down, you looked down at Tony, who smiled back up at you. Soon, though, the smile faded.

“You’re not upset anymore, are you?” he asked, almost sheepishly.

The look in your eyes grew a little sadder, “No, Tony, I’m not anymore. Just promise me you won’t forget next year.”

“Never again.”

You knew he’d stay true to his word. You loved him, after all, and you knew just how much he loved you, too. As you drifted off to sleep, the only thing on your mind was how wonderful the next year with him would be.

[myhusbandsasemni]

The Hospital - Underground Hero

WC:1372

The snip before this

CW: Hospital, heart issues

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

Waking up wasn’t usually a fun experience, but this time it felt glorious to wake up. Silas woke laying down, for starters. He hadn’t laid down in over three weeks. There was nothing stabbing into his back or wrists, he was safe. He recognized the sounds of the hospital machines, a sound all heroes were intimately familiar with. His always fizzled occasionally as his powers tended to send static down the lines every few minutes. The only thing that was causing him a bit of nervousness was the tightness in his chest. He could tell something was still wrong there.

He cracked his eye open to see who was sitting next to his bed, though he assumed from the snore that it was Sam. Sure enough, the director of heroes was propped in a chair, mouth wide as he snored. His back was going to kill him for the next several days.

“Sam?” Silas managed groggily. Sam jerked awake with a snort that made Silas smile a little.

“Silas! You’re awake,” Sam exclaimed, repositioning his glasses on his face. “How are you feeling?”

“Weird. I’m sore. And… I think something’s wrong with my heart?”

Sam sighed. “There is. You’re heart’s giving up. And pacers won’t work with your electricity power. I think…. You might not be able to do hero work anymore.”

“But…. Foxfire said I needed to help her….. Wait!” Silas craned his neck, trying to find the blue blob. “Where is she? Don’t tell me she wasn’t real.”

Silas winced at a pain in his chest and Sam shushed him. “Calm down. She? What ‘she’?”

“Foxfire,” Silas gasped. “The blue slime thing that was with me. Please, was she real?”

Sam hesitated. “Silas…. She was.”

Silas heaved a sigh of relief, his heart monitor slowing down. “Sam, I need to see her.”

“Silas, we don’t know what she is yet. She could be an enemy intelligence gatherer or something,” the director said with a shrug.

Silas turned his head with a glare. “Sam, so help me, you’re going to bring her to me right now or I’m going to get up and go find her.”

“You’re tired and-”

“Don’t tell me I’m delirious. Bring Foxfire to me now before you make me get out of bed to go look for her.”

Sam sighed and Silas laid back on the bed. He took slow breaths as Sam left the room. The hero hoped his friend would come back quickly. He didn’t say it out loud but he could tell he didn’t have much time before his heart needed a guide. And since technology wouldn’t work, he needed Foxfire who had proved she could help.

Sam came back with a box covered in a cloth. He pulled the cloth off to reveal the sealed glass cage with Foxfire in it. She had been quivering in the corner, but as soon as she noticed Silas, she pressed herself to the glass, trying to reach him.

“Silas…” Sam said, watching her push at the glass and crawl around like some sort of one celled microbe brought to a much much larger size.

“Let her out,” Silas said, trying not to gasp. Sam noticed his heart monitor start to go wonky. “Silas!”

“Let her out!” Silas repeated, trying to slow down his breathing.

Sam flipped the top off and Foxfire flung herself  through the air before pushing the blankets down and glueing herself to his chest. She started glowing at intervals, like a heartbeat. It only took a moment for Silas’s heart to start following her lead.

He took a slow breath and he could hear her humming again. Sam apparently heard it too because he took a nervous step back.

“Foxfire,” Silas whispered.

The little slime seemed to perk up to see him better.

‘They kept me in a cage,’ she said into his mind. ‘They looked at me. I was scared.’

“I’m sorry,” Silas said to her. “I’ll keep you safe.” He put his hand on top of her and laid his head back, his eyes slowly sliding closed. The two of them slipped into sleep without acknowledging Sam. The director shook his head, pushing the thought of how bad this probably was going to end up being, and covered them both in the blanket before leaving to go find some coffee.

…………………………..

When Silas was strong enough, the doctor had the hero stand up, do some moving around, and checked his heart. Silas’s muscles had atrophied in captivity but he knew how to build them back up safely. He needed training with Firefox anyways. Speaking of whom, the blob was squished in a hospital cup, pretending to be a blue smoothie while the doctor looked Silas over. Neither of them wanted anyone except Sam to know they were planning on working together.

The doctor sighed and let Silas sit back down on the bed, panting a little.

“Silas, I’m going to have to put you in recovery for a week or two. I don’t want to release you until I think your heart is strong enough. As you know, due to your power, a pacer won’t work, so you’ll have to follow a specific diet, exercise program, and you’re going to have to retire. If you go out trying to be a hero, your heart will give out and you will die.”

Silas bowed his head, acting more upset than he was. He was going to miss being Silas the hero, out in public, not having to worry about hiding his ability, but he was still going to be a hero. Foxfire would be his pacer and they would continue their hero work.

“I kind of knew I’d have to retire,” he sighed. He allowed a quiver to enter his voice as he said, “And anyways, I can still consult and retirement pay for heroes is good.”

The doctor nodded. “I leave you to it, then. You’ll be moved to physical therapy tomorrow. Have a good day.”

Silas nodded, looking into the distance.

When the doctor closed the door, Silas reached to pour Foxfire out of the cup and into his hand. “Text Sam and let him know I need him here, please,” he told her, letting her slip under his shirt to help his heart again.

She purred and there was a bloop noise to indicate she sent the text.

Silas cuddled her and laid back on the bed. It wasn’t too long before Sam made it to the room. He frowned slightly when he saw Foxfire, but turned his attention to his best friend. “What did you need?”

“I need to retire,” Silas said with a smile. “And then come back as a new hero.”

“Silas, your heart is going to give out if you go back to hero work, secret or not.”

“I’ll be fine,” the hero insisted. “Foxfire can regulate my heart and we’ll be fine.”

“No,” Sam said firmly. “You don’t know if you can trust that thing.”

Silas stood up, anger flashing in his grey eyes. “I can trust her! I know it.”

Sam shook his head a little. “If you’re sure, I’ll believe you.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Silas stood up. He pulled Sam’s hand up and slid Foxfire onto the director’s hand. She turned her attention to Sam and purred reassuringly. She vibrated the air around her so they could both hear her as she said, “It’s alright, Sam. I want to protect him. I want to protect all that I can.”

She was open and honest. Sam could feel it with a surety.

“I understand,” he said softly, letting Foxfire pool back into Silas’s hands. She rolled up his arm and plastered herself to his chest under his shirt.

“We’re going to stay and recover for a couple of weeks,” Silas explained. “But once we’re strong enough, we’re going back out.

Sam nodded seriously. “You know what you’re doing, right?”

“Yes. I’m doing what I promised I would. Hopefully, I’ll be able to function as a more competent hero in my new persona. I promise, though, I won’t overdo it.”

Sam nodded. “Any ideas for your costume, then?”

Silas grinned and Foxfire burbled cheerful. Oh, they had ideas. 

Underground Hero Taglist: @doubi-ixi @my-dump-of-whump @thethistlegirl @writeblrfantasy @kactus-loves-writing

[zichqec]

Ahh, the end of the year at last. Now it’s time for my yearly ramble XD

Obviously 2020 sucked for a lot of reasons, but on a personal level, things have gotten a bit better for me. They’ve definitely gotten better art-wise, Outfit Friday was a huge success! I’ll talk about that more tomorrow, though.

I really didn’t have energy for art most of this year, though I managed to finish a couple nice pieces early on. Most of the year I did simple colored sketches, and I’m actually pretty happy with them even though they’re a bit rough.

And then everything changed around March. I’ve wanted to make my own Ukagaka of S for years, but I just never had the dedication to see it through. I kept poking at it a little here and there, but then in March when I got laid off work, I said screw it, now is my chance to throw hours and hours at this thing. So I did, and on May 1st, 2020, I put out my first of what was soon to be many Ukagakas.

I am so completely obsessed with making them right now. I don’t know if/when that’s going to change, but oh my god I love making them so much more than I thought I ever could. I learned to make websites so I could make a website for them, I became a very active member in the english Ukagaka community (especially its Discord), I started learning more about other programming languages out of curiousity, and because I want to push ghost dev even farther. I’ve always known a little about coding, writing, and drawing, and I always wanted a way to tell the stories of my OCs in a way that was interesting, and now I’ve realized that Ukagaka is absolutely it.

Unfortunately, that means I haven’t had as much time for just plain drawing. But I’m sure I’ll figure out somewhat of a balance, now that my energy is kind of starting to come back. It felt good to take sort of a break and do something new.

I say that, but for the last 3rd of this year I’ve been posting a drawing a day, and oh boy am I so glad that’s done. Never again XD I’ll continue to do inktober and maybe 1 other challenge at the end of the year, but definitely not 3-4 in a row like this. Do I even remember how to schedule posts??

Anyways. So what about next year? Well, I think the last major thing I have to gripe about my art right now is that I don’t draw just scenes very often. I usually just draw references and such of my characters, but that’s a bit boring. I’ll be starting a new challenge in a few days here, hoping to improve in this aspect of my art. I’ll explain it a little more then! I’m really looking forward to 2021 for art, I’m hoping to have as much success as I did with Outfit Friday, if not more.

Alas, real life is coming at me fast, so I may have less time than ever to work on these things, soon. But I will do my best! And hopefully next year at this time, I can look back with satisfaction.

Template is from here

[putschki1969]

Hikaru on YORU NIGHT×YORU NIGHT Highlights/Summary

Program: 「鷲崎健のヨルナイト×ヨルナイト」 Channel: 文化放送 Internet Radio 超!A&G+ Air date: May 14 (Thursday) Air time: 24:00~25:00 (JST) Homepage: http://www.joqr.co.jp/yonayona/ E-mail: yonayona@joqr.net Broadcast link (incl video): http://www.uniqueradio.jp/agplayerf/player3.php Repeat: May 15 12:00~13:00 (JST)

The episode is available on Bilibili! All credit goes to VOCALOID. There is part 1 and part 2. I downloaded both videos, cut some of the unnecessary stuff and joined them. HERE is a Google Drive link. Please note that there is a tiny part missing in the middle of the video after the intermission. Takeshi read a fanletter asking about the differences between being a member of a group and doing solo work. The video starts with Hikaru’s reply. 

Here are the higlights of today’s broadcast 〈(•ˇ‿ˇ•)-→

There really wasn’t a lot of Hikaru in this. Such a shame.

After an eternity of Takeshi blabbering on and on about who knows what (how can he talk so fast?) FINALLY a wild Hikaru appears XD

On a random side note: Takeshi spends way too much time thinking about how to say Hikaru’s stage name “H-el-ical//���.

Awww, it’s so cute how they are saying Hikaru’s “older sisters” (i.e. Wakana and Keiko) are not there to form a wall in front of her to protect her. Typically they would take on the talking duty but now she has to do all the talking herself.

Hikaru has been reading manga, watching anime, reading books, watching films, doing work for H-el-ical// during this stay-at-home-period. The things she usually does since she is a hikikomori anyways.

I love how Takeshi is so impressed by Hikaru writing her own lyrics for Altern-ate-. I am glad her work is appreciated.

Hikaru talks about her predicament when she was filiming the PV. How she had a hard time standing on the edge of that cliff. How there were a ton of insects because the location was so close to the water. And she was there pretty much all by herself because it was all shot with a drone. Poor Hi-chan.

After a long break they read out some fan messages. One question is about the differences of being part of a group and being a solo singer. Hikaru says she has to think a lot more about how to present herself, what to say, how to act during MCs, how to do her goods introduction, etc...it’s been really hard because talking is not her forte as we all know. And back in the day all three of them would think about how to present themselves on stage. Kalafina songs were always quite dramatic after all so presentation was key, Now she needs to figure out that stuff all by herself.

Someone asks which parts of the PV are particularly important. Hikaru says it’s all important and you should pay attention to every little detail.

In the future Hikaru would like to compose some music herself.

Hikaru talks about her「Altern-ate-」 Video Upload Campaign which starts tomorrow.

HERE is the download link for all the material you need if you want to take part in the campain (doesn’t seem to be working atm - hopefully that will change soon. EDIT: It’s working now!)

・ Instrumental ・ Lyrics (Japanese) ・ Lyrics (romaji) ・ Melody sheet music ・ Chord sheet music

We got a short version of Clea-rly-. First impression: Not sure. It’s cool but it doesn’t really impress me too much. Will have to listen to it a few more times.

Oh no, there is a special that will also feature Hikaru but it’s only for premium members T_T Should have expectd this. I guess I DID expect it but meh, there is no way for me to watch it.

Source

Source

[trashinaglass-archive]

Bad Trip

Hands Off Part Two

Request: can u write imagine about tom coming back to hotel and freaking out about the paparazzi incident

A/n: This was a separate request but they came in one after the other and fit perfectly and I’m excited😁

You woke up to Tom rustling around, getting ready for his day. He had a schedule full of events that you were previously excited to attend with him, but that was all going to be put to a halt. You sat up in the bed, watching Tom as he turned at the sound of you moving.

“Morning, love,” he said, moving to stand in front of where you sat and placing a kiss to your forehead as you leaned into him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay. I just wish I could go with you,” you said softly. Your head resting on his chest as he held you, hands rubbing over your back.

“Maybe you can meet us when you get done at the doctors?”

You smiled at the suggestion, “we’ll see.” You looked up at him, placing a kiss to his lips, and standing up to move to the bathroom. You winced feeling the pain in your ankle, slowly limping across the room.

“Are you going to be able to get there by yourself?” Tom asked as he watched you struggle to get to the bathroom. “Why don’t you take Harry with you. Last thing we need is for you to fall and get even more hurt.”

You leaned against the wall as you turned to look at Tom again. “Then who’s going to be there to film all your adventures?” You joked. You were already upset with yourself having to miss out- you didn’t want to force Harry to miss out too.

“Trust me, so many people. He’ll probably be thankful for a few hours away from all of us,” he tried to assure you. You sighed, accepting that Tom wasn’t going to let you go alone. He couldn’t go with you himself, but he could definitely send someone with you.

“As long as he doesn’t hate me for stealing him away,” you answered.

“He won’t, y/n, I promise,” Tom told you with a laugh. “And if he does, I’ll beat him up for you.”

You laughed at his joke, “my hero.”

. . .

You made it to the doctor’s office, Harry helping you walk in without having to limp or worry about falling. Like Tom, he made sure to assure you that he was okay with missing out on the mornings events. You were taken back and seen by the doctor after a long wait where you took x-rays and tested your range of motion before he told you the news. Just as great as you thought they would be.

The doctor left you alone, giving you time to call Tom and tell him the news.

“What’s the verdict?” He asked as soon as he answered the phone.

“Not broken but severely sprained. He said just a smidge more pressure and we would’ve been looking at surgery, but thankfully it wasn’t. But I can’t put any weight on it so I’ll be in a boot with crutches for the next few months.”

You heard Tom sigh, “I’m sorry, Princess.” He shared the information with someone that was with him before speaking to you again. “Will you be able to join us tonight?” He asked hopefully.

“I don’t know, Tom. I don’t want to slow you guys down and with how crowded it’ll probably be...”

“Yeah- no, I understand. You should probably be resting it anyways.” The disappointment in Tom’s voice broke your heart.

“I’m still definitely going to the premiere though. I just need to find a new dress- I had a gown, and I’m not going to be able to wear that with this boot,” you started thinking out loud.

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll get you something. Even if it takes an emergency visit from Law- I’ll make sure you’re the most beautiful girl on that carpet. And we can get your boot bedazzeled also if you want it,” Tom began to speak excitedly. He was scared that you wouldn’t be able to go, but he was determined to do everything in his power to make sure you are not only there, but that you are comfortable and happy and have so much fun.

“Slow down, cowboy,” you said with a laugh. “I think the bedazzeled boot would be a bit much.”

“Sorry, I just want you to enjoy your time at the premiere. Not be upset because you’re injured.”

“I appreciate it, but that night is about you, Tom. And as long as you’re happy, I’ll be happy,” you told him. You laughed as Harry made a face and let out an ‘ew’ at how cheesy you sounded. “Love you, Pete.”

“That’s not my name,” he replied, trying to sound mad but not able to control his giggle. “I love you, too.” You were ready to hang up the phone when your heard yelling causing you to bring the phone back to your ear. “Jacob says hi by the way.”

You laughed at the sweet friend of Tom’s. “Hi, Jacob.”

“Hey, y/n! Sorry about your foot, but it’s good you can still go to the premiere. You’ll have so much fun,” Jacob said.

“That’s the plan. I’m invincible- sprained ankle can’t stop me,” you joked making him laugh. You heard Jacob laugh before Tom took the phone back saying ‘bye’ once again before hanging up. The doctor walked back in shortly after, fitting you for the boot and showing you how to use all of its features.

“Do you want me to stay here with you?” Harry asked when you got back to the hotel, placing the crutches on the wall beside your spot on the bed while you sat on said bed.

“If you want to go meet up with Tom and them, that’s fine. I don’t really plan on leaving the bed for the rest of the day,” you told him.

“You sure?” He asked again. “I don’t mind staying.”

“No- go have fun,” you told him.

“Okay, call if you need anything,” he said before walking out the door leaving you alone. You scooted back to lay on the bed, turning the tv on to a random channel and sliding under the covers, not bothering to take the boot off.

Hours pass and you find yourself watching Tom on Stephen Colbert. You smiled as you heard him talk, seeing his smile and hearing his laugh making you feel better. You were worried Colbert might bring up the airport incident, but thankfully he didn’t. Tom left not too long into the program, heading straight back to the hotel. You grabbed your phone off the bedside table when you heard it vibrate.

Harry: Just a heads up, Tom is pretty mad about something that happened earlier

“Thanks” you send back simply, wondering what had happened. A few minutes later, Tom walked in, throwing the contents of his pockets on the counter. “What happened?” You asked softly. You heard him sigh and shake his head before turning back to you.

“What didn’t happen?” He asked angrily. “We’re at the Empire State Building first and there was a huge crowd of people wanting pictures and autographs, which is usually fine, but they couldn’t just stop. They just kept pushing and screaming- I tried to tell them to calm down, but they wouldn’t listen. I just fucking walked away.

“And then at the Colbert show, before it started there was a line of people waiting behind some barrier things and these huge, grown ass men are literally crushing this girl against the metal. Like on her knees, getting choked out because some meatheads want to make money off a stupid pen scribble. It’s pathetic- fucking ridiculous.”

“Is she okay?” You asked, hoping she didn’t go home with a panic attack or something.

“She told me she was, but I don’t know. I just can’t believe how they’re acting. Fucking men that probably don’t even know who I am for real are so worried about getting a signature, they’re hurting young girls. My girlfriend included. I can’t even process it.”

“Tom, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him, but he wouldn’t take it.

“It’s not! It’s not fucking okay. That girl was basically choked, you have a sprain that almost needed surgery, and you’d never admit it but I know the back of your head is hurt too. Who knows how many other people haven’t gotten hurt like that. They shouldn’t be allowed to do that shit. And there’s nothing I can do about it either- that’s what pisses me off the most.”

“Tom- stop,” you said firmly, needing him to calm down and hear you out. “What did you do when you saw her?”

“I told the guys to back off- threw their shit on the ground. I talked to her, made sure she was okay and that they weren’t touching her anymore.”

“And when hammy touched me, you knocked his lights out,” you reminded him. “Tom, you are doing everything you can to take care of the situations you’re handed, and that’s all you’re responsible for. I’m sure that girl is over the moon that you did what you did when you could’ve just walked away. You can’t control someone else’s actions, but you can step in and try to help. And you did. Be mad about their actions as much as you want, but don’t be mad at yourself for what you can’t control.”

“Yeah, note taken,” he said with a huff. He sat on the bed next to you, wanting to distract himself from the topic. He pulled the blanket off your leg to reveal the chunky boot you wore. “You have to sleep in it?” He asked.

“No,” you replied. Tom took that as his cue to remove it from your leg- unclasping the velcro and gently sliding it off your foot. He took the time to inspect your ankle where the damage was.

“It looks a lot worse today,” he said quietly. “Darker bruise, more swelling. Does it still hurt?”

“When I move it, yeah, but the doctor gave me some pain meds for it so it’s no big deal.”

“That’s good,” he said mostly to himself. “I spoke with my publicist about tomorrow, and I have the entire afternoon off to take you shopping- find something for you to wear to the premiere that’ll look lovely with your beautiful new boot.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Tommy,” you declared, but you couldn’t help the smile that graced your face. It touched your heart that he was willing to make time to help you find a new outfit. “I could’ve gone by myself.”

“I know, but I want to,” he simply said, looking at you with a smile. “Besides how are you going to pick something without my expert opinion?”

You reached over and smacked him, your smile mimicking his own. He leaned over to kiss you once before standing up and doing his nightly routine. “How did you know my head was hurt?”

“Last night- I was wide awake and started to play with your hair. I guess I moved some strands that were connected to that spot because you winced and moved your head back.”

“Why did I react if I was asleep?”

“I don’t think you were fully asleep, yet. Or if you were, it was a light sleep,” Tom answered. It amazed you the things he noticed about you, as if he studied your every move.

He made his way back to the bed, sliding under the covers and cuddling into you with his chest to your back. He made sure to be careful where he moved his feet, not wanting to accidentally kick your injured ankle. You intertwined your fingers together when he wrapped his arm around your waist. Bringing his hand to your mouth, you place a kiss to his knuckle.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever, Tommy.”

“Yeah?” He responded sleepily. “It’s the least I could do for my gorgeous girl.”

Tom nuzzled his face into your shoulder, placing a kiss to the exposed skin. You fell asleep feeling comforted, happy, and safe in the arms of your love.

Tag list: @rexorangecouny (Add yourself here)

[toko-ton]

Kizuna novel ch.3 notes

This covers the first half of the chapter, so hopefully I’ll have the rest done tomorrow!

- In ch.2, there's a scene with Menoa in her underwear, and now there's one with her swimming in a pool. Both are supposed to be serious moments, so I hope the movie doesn't go overboard on fanservice...

- Menoa is from Colorado, and she met her partner, Morphomon, when she was 9 (1997?) and lost them when she was only 14 (2002?). I had assumed she was much older, so it was a surprise to find out that she’s roughly the same age as Taichi.

- What makes someone count as an adult when it comes to Digimon-human partnerships? Menoa may have been a child prodigy, sure, but a 14-year-old is not going to be physically, psychologically, socially, or legally an adult, even if she's brilliant enough to already be in college (or already have graduated?).

Even going by Menoa's earlier explanation about choices and energy and all that, it doesn't make sense to me that she'd lose Morphomon so quickly. I doubt that she could have outdone Taichi and Yamato at frequently evolving her partner to Ultimate, so energy expenditure alone can't explain it. And if it has to do with future possibilities, why would she suddenly find herself stuck without options for her future at 14? There hasn't been any indication that she went through any kind of tragedy or disaster aside from losing Morphomon.

- I'm starting to think that the creators intended for Menoa to come off as similar to Maki, since so much of Kizuna is made up of references to previous Adventure anime. There's no reason that the fight in the first scene had to be against a Parrotmon, or that the first Omegamon vs. Eosmon battle had to be in the internet instead of the Digital World. There's no plot significance to Menoa being from Colorado, either, and considering that Eosmon turns out to be taking Chosen (their consciousnesses, anyway) and de-aging them, I'm pretty sure that's meant to remind viewers of Wallace. I would be surprised if her resemblance to Maki wasn't also deliberate.

- Menoa tries to cover it up with fake cheerfulness, but she's obviously still hurting from what happened eight years ago.

- Daisuke calls Yamato from a pay phone (at Yamato's request, for security reasons), Miyako quickly grabs the handset from him, and the 02 team delivers their report about Imura and Menoa together. (I guess they must all be clustered around the phone?)

- They don't actually say that Miyako hacked into the duo's computers, but I assume she must have? Menoa might not need to keep people out if she hadn't put anything important on that computer, but you would think that an undercover government agent would want to have some serious security, even after scrubbing his computer of data related to the investigation.

- When Armadimon brings up the painting of the goddess Aurora, Hawkmon goes out of his way to mention that he was the one who told Armadimon all about the mythology behind it.

- When Daisuke and V-mon demand that Yamato treat them to all-you-can-eat okonomiyaki, Yamato thinks to himself that he can practically see all of them grinning expectantly on the other end, and he gratefully agrees, smiling.

- Taichi seems to mostly be wandering around trying to come to terms with the thought of losing Agumon, while Yamato and Koushirou throw themselves into trying to solve the mystery of Eosmon, Menoa, and Imura.

- As usual when he's busy with something important, Koushirou's desk is a mess of empty bottles. I couldn't help laughing at this description: "Beside him, Tentomon was hard at work sorting the trash, like a househusband."

- Imura tells Yamato that he did a terrible job of tailing him, and he's genuinely surprised when he realizes that Yamato thinks he's responsible for Eosmon.

- I wonder if Koushirou already had his message typed out when Menoa barged into his office? It would take a lot of effort to write something on a flip phone while hiding it behind your back, even if it's just a sequence of numbers.

- If I'm understanding correctly, Koushirou figured out that Menoa created Eosmon because its programming used some mathematical formulas that he traced back to papers she had published. (I'm not 100% confident about this, since my math/science vocabulary in Japanese isn’t that great.)

- The book keeps referring to Imura by that name even after he reveals that it's really Yamada, so I guess I'll do the same.

- Imura sounds like he has a very deadpan sense of humor (if not, he's extremely cringey). When he reveals to Yamato that he's an FBI agent, he actually says things like: "I'm on the side of justice, as they say" and "I'm a shy grown-up who can't bring himself to tell the truth."

[love-bucky-3000]

Every time We Touch (Ben Descendants 3 x Reader) pt 1

Prompt: Can I please get a Ben x reader where she’s mal’s sister and she thinks he likes mal and she has a flirty relationship with Jay so Ben thinks she likes jay. Thank u  Okay so the Reader and Mal were separated at birth so the reader has a heavy Hades vibe, people don’t know that Mal and the Reader are sisters because this is set in the first movie. Guess who isn’t really following the prompt again  @ithasntbeenprovin

WC- 1.2kish

AN- I’m sorry for the lack of posts but hopefully a new series will help. Thank you. I’m having fun writing a Soulmate fic

Auradon. Boradon. Same thing. You were finishing up your shift at Dr. Facilier’s Voodoo Arcade. It was busy for a Thursday but then again, does anyone actually go to school? Your hair was pulled up into a ponytail to keep it from sticking to your face with sweat. Air conditing was apparently nonessential to Dr. Facilier no matter how many times Ceilia complained. 

You clocked out and said goodbye to Ceilia, who had just handed your dad’s clothes over. Why he insisted that she do all his hard work was beyond you, but you had a suspicion that he wanted to mature her, the way her own dad never would. 

The walk back to the lair was boring. Bonded couples were everywhere. “At least others can find their soulmate,” you bitterly thought as you pasted a couple in the market. You made your mission to touch every person on the Isle, hoping that one will bring the joy of colors to your eyes. You didn’t even know what color your hair or eyes were. Dad told you they were both blue, but what exactly is blue? Thoughts would creep into your head at night. 

“What if your soulmate is already dead?” “What if” you almost gagged, “in Auradon?” You shuddered at the thought of some Boradon prince or pretty pink princess being bonded to your soul. Oh, but how you wanted to see the hues of the Sun or the pearly white of the King’s castle from across the lake. You’re taught colors in school, usually just different shades of black and white. Unless you were lucky enough to meet your soulmate young.

Take Harry Hook for example. His dad had just pushed him into the water, trying to teach him to swim as a bird would throw the chick off the tree branch and hope it flies. “If you’re going to be aboard the Jolly Roger, then you have to learn the waters beneath it.” Harry thought the last thing he’d see was the sun trying to break the surface of the water, until a slippery rope wrapped around his waist and suddenly the water wasn’t black, it was blue.

“Dad! Are you home?” you were answered by your own echo. Dad must still be out. You were putting the food that needs to be kept slightly cold in the broken fridge when a taped-up paper caught your eye. 

Dear Daughter of Hades, God of the Underworld,

You have been formally invited by future King Benjamin to attend 

Auradon Prep in the great city of Auradon. We would be very pleased to

have you attend our school. You are officially a part of the new Villian Kid 

Exchange Program honored by the King and Queen. Please fill out the following application form and bring it with you to meet your Auradon driver on the

Day of meeting. The meeting will be held at the entrance to the bridge at eight A.M. sharp tomorrow. We will be pleased to see you there.

The Auradon Court

You scoffed and threw the paper on the table. Did dad want you to go? You finished cleaning up the kitchen, your mind constantly finding its way back to the letter. It was signed, so it wasn’t faked, but you still had your doubts. A little voice in your head quietly said something about soulmate fate but you quickly pushed it away. 

Hades made it back soon after. You were lounging in the living room when he made his presence known. You watched with a raised eyebrow as he rummaged around the kitchen, making it very obvious that he was reading the Auradon paper like he wasn’t the one who taped it up. You rolled your eyes when he acted surprised. “Dad, I’ve seen it.” He glanced at you and shrugged. “This is great, isn’t it honey?” No. “I guess, dad.” He smiled and kissed your cheek. You wiped it away with a groan. Why was he so weird?

“I hope you know that you’re going,” “What!? No, I’m not! I’m fine here!” “I need connections in Auradon! You know the power that the ember holds over there,” you huffed, and here you were, thinking he wanted you to go for your own good. Always about power with him. “I’m just trying to find out a way to get off this horrible piece of trash that they call an island.” You knew that. You really did, but it’s hard to think that he was doing this for you and not to gain the rule of Auradon. 

“Fine, I’ll go, but I’m doing it on my own terms,” Hades smiled gleefully, “that’s all I could ever ask of you, honey. Oh! I almost forgot! Here,” he handed you a strip of rope with what looked like a blue rock… is that, “a part of the ember?” you asked. Hades nodded, “It won’t do everything that it does for me, but it’ll help.” You were shocked. Hades never let go of his ember, much less break it into pieces.

 “Does this hurt the ember?” Hades shook his head, “but it does make it vulnerable. Having two pieces makes it harder to protect. Just remember, the Daughter of Malenifant holds power over this ember, not as much as you, but it can still be used.” You seethed at the mention of Mal, “She won’t even be in Auradon.”  Hades half smiled, “I know you despise her. You need to know that she was also chosen,” “I’m not going now!” Hades rolled his eyes, “no take-backs, (Y/N).” Of course, your dad picks this time to be a child. “Pack your bags! I see you when you break the spell.”

After a very sleepless night, you were awoken by the big, bad three-headed dog at seven sharp. You reluctantly pulled yourself out of your cot. You would have stayed, but the last time you laid around in bed when you had to be up, you got a face full of lukewarm water and a swat to the shoulder. You didn’t want to go through that again. 

You looked at yourself in your broken mirror. You didn’t need a soulmate to see that the circles were dark underneath your eyes. You pulled your hair up, not bothering with makeup. Not that you had much on the lines of makeup. You threw on your clothes and grabbed your leather jacket. You safely wrapped the ember around your neck and put it inside your shirt. You picked up your duffle and walked across the hall to the kitchen. Hades was stationed at the rickety table, acting like he wasn’t waiting for you to come in.

“Look, (Y/N), I’ll be proud of you no matter what you do. If you get down there and absolutely love it,” you grunted and he shot you a look, “hey now. Anyway, just don’t forget about your old man.” You could tell this was his way of saying he’ll miss you and he expects you to up and leave him. “Dad, if I stay-and that’s a big if- I promise to visit every chance they give me.” He smiled, “that’s all I could ask for. Now we need to get you to the entrance.”

Tag list- @doveycam @idjit-angel-radio @the-marvelatic @captainmaniseffinghot @starrdustdoodles  @fisted-waffle @ldrmas @harvestleaves @nightrainn2 @thegirlwholikestomanythings (my normal tag list. I’m sorry, I can’t remember who just wanted Hades and not Descendants in general.)  @bluediamondsevie 

[lunatens]

campus antics

word count: 1744

genre: fluFFFFF

pairing: han jisung x gender neutral reader

summary: college!au where jisung’s the cute, popular kid you’ve got an intense hallway crush on but you can’t seem to avoid embarrassing yourself every time you talk to him

a/n: lemme know if y’all want me to write a part 2 to this!! it’ll probably be better than this flaslkjdfsk sorry

song rec: can’t blame a girl for trying - sabrina carpenter

~

there he is, sitting at that picnic table he seems to always be at, headphones on and intently focused on his laptop like usual. his foot taps a steady beat on the ground as his head bobs slightly and you think you see him mumbling to himself. you’ve had a crush on han jisung since the moment you first saw him, and ever since then you find yourself silently hoping you’ll pass by him in the halls (not that you’ll do anything, but there’s no harm in admiring from afar, right) to catch a glimpse of him and his cute face.

you’ve discovered his favourite hangout place is this picnic table—it’s a beautiful day, and the breeze keeps ruffling his shaggy hair. annoyed, he moves to brush it out of his eyes, and when he does so he makes eye contact with you on the pathway. it’s only now that you realize you’ve stopped walking entirely, and when jisung flashes you an awkward, close-lipped smile you immediately turn and walk away briskly. your face is burning red as a tomato; hopefully you turned around quickly enough that jisung didn’t notice you practically drooling over him. you silently curse yourself, internally groaning as you pray jisung doesn’t think you’re a creep or a weirdo.

you’ve never actually spoken to him before; for one thing, he’s in a different program, so you never have classes together. he’s a music kid (which you think is the coolest thing ever) while you’re a med student. you love your program and you excel in all your classes, but you always admire the more creative and artistic people—like jisung. he also happens to be a member of several of your college’s clubs, which you suspect is how he became so popular. it seems everyone on campus knows jisung’s name, and when he’s not alone at the picnic table he’s almost always surrounded by a group of people laughing and talking with him—yet another reason you’ve never gathered the nerve to talk to him. you’re certain he doesn’t know you exist; that is, unless he permanently remembers you from the awkward eye contact you just made (you know it’s definitely seared into your own memory). you try to push the embarrassment to the back of your mind as you make your way to the lab—although as you fall asleep that night the moment replays over and over in your head, and you really hope you get a chance to redeem yourself.

~

unfortunately, the next time you come face to face with jisung, it doesn’t go much more smoothly—if anything, you’re even more embarrassed now than before. you’re running late to one of your classes; literally, you’re sprinting down the hall trying to make it on time (you know this professor hates students coming in late and interrupting his lesson, but you don’t like missing out on class so you’re trying your best to make it on time). you whizz around a corner, then WHAM! you find yourself flat on your stomach, although rather than feeling the cold surface of the floor beneath you, you wince as you realize there’s a person underneath you.

“i’m so sorry!!” you say as you scramble to get up, gathering the few things you dropped. you’re extremely flustered now, and would really like to just leave for class, leaving all this embarrassment behind. but, being the kind, considerate person you are, you stick out your hand to help the person up. he groans and grabs your hand, sitting up from the floor, and you quietly gasp as you recognize jisung—if you thought your face was red before, you should see it now.

“oh my god, jisung! i-i am SO sorry, i was just really in a rush to class and didn’t see you, wow i can’t believe i did that!” you pull jisung to his feet, half mumbling to yourself.

“it’s okay, i get it—you’ve got places to be! how did you know my name though?” he asks; he seems mildly confused, but not overly alarmed. you, on the other hand, are burning bright red, unable to believe you really just let slip you already know who he is.

“oh uh, doesn’t like everyone on campus know who you are?” you say in an attempt to play it off. jisung laughs softly and looks down at the ground.

“yeah, i guess you could say a few people know me. well listen, it was nice to meet you…” he says, voice trailing off as he waits for you to finish his sentence.

“oh, i’m just y/n,” you clarify, smiling shyly.

“y/n! you seem like you’re in a hurry and i don’t wanna keep you from where you’re going, but it was nice to meet you! i’ll see you around campus,” jisung says and with a small smile and wave, he’s walking down the hall towards where you came from. you stand frozen for a moment before remembering you have a class to get to, so you turn and make your way to class, not really caring about being late anymore since walking in and interrupting class can’t be more embarrassing than what just happened.

~

“you didn’t even get his number??” minho asks, astounded and, frankly, disappointed.

“minho, i RAN INTO HIM!! i don’t think he wants my number,” you say. you were studying that night and you made sure to facetime your best friend minho to tell him everything—you always go to him for advice. you look up from your notes to see him roll his eyes at you.

“well i mean he still talked to you, so he couldn’t have been THAT grossed out by you,” minho teases. “but you gotta get a chance to talk to him again,” minho says.

“…i’ll try,” you tell minho, although you know you’re still way too intimidated to just go up and talk to jisung. “now we should probably actually study, exams are coming up,” you remind minho. just like that the topic is switched and the two of you are studying, although jisung is in the back of your mind the whole time.

~

the third time you interact with jisung is, unfortunately, probably (definitely) the most embarrassing of all. you’re in the library, notes and textbooks spread across the table as you frantically scour them for helpful information, coffee always within arm’s reach. you’ve been spending a lot of time at the library recently, studying as hard as you can to ace your exams. a couple times you’ve seen jisung in passing, either at his usual spot or walking by just in the halls (on the rare occasion he sees you he’ll flash a smile your way and yes, your heart flutters every time), but you’re careful to avoid much interaction in fear of making a fool of yourself. you’re trying not to think about him too much anyways; your exams are really important, and a distraction is the last thing you need (although maybe you wouldn’t mind so much if it was jisung).

“uhhh, y/n?” a voice says from beside you. you look up to see jisung, surprisingly. “is this seat taken?” he asks, gesturing to the chair beside you. you shake your head, mildly in shock. jisung pulls the chair out and takes a seat beside you, pulling out his own study notes.

“what’s up jisung?” you ask, still confused as to why he’s studying with you.

“oh, i need someone’s opinions on some songs i’ve been working in for my final assignments. my friends are too biased to give me an honest opinion, but when i walked in here and saw you i figured it might be worth a shot. wanna listen?” he says. offering his headphones to you. dumbfounded, you take them. he clicks a couple things on his laptop then turns to see your reaction, biting his lip nervously.

as the song begins to play, your eyes widen and you look at jisung (who’s quite flustered and sheepish). you figured jisung was talented simply by the sheer amount of time he seems to spend working on his laptop, but you never imagined he’d be this good.

“jisung…this is amazing,” you say as you take off his headphones.

“you really think so?” he says, and you can tell he’s trying to hold back his excitement.

“yeah, like, wow. i can’t believe you made that,” you say, truly amazed by the song you just heard. you move to hand back his headphones, and that’s when it happens; you accidentally knock over your coffee cup. the hot beverage spills, staining your notes brown and dripping off the edge of the table onto the carpeted floor. thank god nothing got on jisung’s laptop, however it did happen to spill onto his lightwash jeans and white shoes.

“oh my god. jisung i-i’m so sorry!!” you say, looking at him in horror. how you manage to embarrass yourself every time you do something around him you don’t know, but you wish you could run away and hide forever.

“y/n, it’s okay, don’t worry about it. it’ll come out in the wash,” jisung simply laughs a little and reassured you. “you’re really clumsy though,” he says, poking fun at you.

“i feel so bad!” you pout, and it’s true—especially because jisung is so frickin CUTE and talented and popular and why the heck he’s talking to you you have no idea but you really wish you could stop making a fool of yourself for once.

“okay fine, i have a way you can make it up to me. take me out for coffee tomorrow, i’ll meet you in front of the library tomorrow at 2, see you tomorrow y/n!” jisung says, and before you get the chance to answer he gets up and leaves, with you watching him hurry out, bewildered. you turn back to the mess on the table in front of you, and as you start cleaning up you notice jisung’s number scribbled on one of the dry sheets of paper (he’s also drawn a little heart, which makes you smile to yourself). you decide you’re done studying for the day, so after you clean everything up and apologize to the librarian, you head home, wondering how you of all people managed to get ask out by jisung of all people—you’re not complaining though, and you find yourself almost skipping gleefully back to your dorm in anticipation of your date tomorrow.

~

requested by anon <3

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Queen of Hearts - Chapter 10

Thirty-year-old Rose Tyler’s matchmaking business is doing very well indeed, bringing her clients such as celebrities, athletes, and the now-happily-married son of the mayor.  All of which brings her to her newest client - one whose royal rank is a far cry above her own title as Queen of Hearts.

Ian, King of Gallifrey, calls off his wedding four weeks before the happy day as he realizes he can’t spend another minute of his life with his betrothed.  The catch - he must take a wife before his Coronation, only a month away.  In desperation, his sister and aunt conspire to find him is happy ever after - and it’s going to take a master matchmaker to do it.

-

Based on the Hallmark Movie ‘Royal Matchmaker’.  Chapters will be posted every Sunday.

As always, beta’d by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma​!  @doctorroseprompts

Masterlist  |  AO3

---

Friday, April 12th

The next morning, Rose was just about ready to give in and ask how Mel had breakfast delivered when a knock on the suite door preceded Ryan the footman poking his head in.

“Ma’am?”  He offered out a silver tray, a folded piece of cream stationary perfectly centered on it.  The Gallifreyan coat of arms was embossed on the top in gold and scarlet, looking terribly fancy.

Rose scrambled up from the floor, where she’d been in the middle of the file folders on each of their remaining candidates.  With any luck, the pool would be narrowed further once she got the King’s assessments of each woman back. “Thank you!”  Opening the note, she found perfect handwriting inside that read:

Rose,

Please join me for breakfast.

Ian

“When you’re ready, ma’am,” Ryan said politely, and she nodded.

“One minute.”  She darted back into her bathroom, pulling her brush through her hair again and refreshing her lipstick before returning to the main room, tugging at the hem of her skirt.  “Hopefully we’ll have the new list by noon, and we can reevaluate then.  Text me if anything comes up.”

Mel laughed, shaking her head.  “Go eat, find out how last night went,” she ordered.  “I’m going down to the breakfast room soon, see who turns up and get the gossip that way.  We can compare notes whenever you’re back.”

“You’re an absolute angel,” Rose declared, before following Ryan down the hall towards breakfast.  She straightened her outfit on the way, wondering who all would be at the meal and how the evening had gone.

She was escorted to their now-typical dining room, the more intimate one from Monday evening.  Entering, she was slightly surprised to find the King already there, sitting in his usual spot and writing away on a sheet of paper.

He was alone, and her heart unclenched.

Something alerted him to her presence and his head jerked up, a smile spreading across his face.  “R- Miss Tyler!  Thank you for joining me, please, have a seat.”

To her surprise he practically ran around the table to pull her chair out for her, waiting until she sat to push her back in before returning to his own seat, putting his papers away without an apparent second thought.

“How was your evening?”

Rose arched an eyebrow, barely noticing as their food was delivered and the servants slipped out of the room.  “Busy with the final touches for tomorrow night.  Yours?”

It hit her like a bolt of lightning before he even opened his mouth, the reason for his good mood.  Oh, God, no.  He found someone.  Then she realized what she’d thought with horror.  No, that’s a good thing!  That’s why we’re here.  He was supposed to find his perfect queen last night.  Regardless, tears welled in her eyes.

“It was fine,” he shrugged, “I’m just finishing up the reviews now.”  He gestured towards the folder, which Rose realized must contain the after-meeting questionnaires she’d asked him to complete.

“That’s good,” she choked out, toying with a bite of waffle.  “Your comments will help up guide you further, or possibly re-expand our pool if need be.”  Waffles were her favorite food second only to chips, but at this moment, she couldn’t even bear the thought.  “How many women do you want to keep?”

Ian gave her an odd look, unusually serious even for him, before quirking his lips into a smile.  “Keep?  None.”  The strange look flashed in his eye again, but he just shook his head.  “I’m not looking for a harem. I was speaking to Donna though – she said you had a woman on the list who wasn’t there?”

Rose nodded, pasting on a numb smile and hoping he couldn’t see her lack of enthusiasm.  You’re a professional, act like it!  “One, yes, a French diplomat’s daughter – we’re still trying to get her to come at least for a visit, but she’s currently on a private yacht in the Mediterranean, and we’re having trouble getting in touch with her.”

“All right.  What happens in the meantime, then, oh wise one?”

A dozen things hovered on the tip of her tongue, but what came out was, “Today, each woman gets an hour of your time, just the two of you, so you can get to know each other better.  Then the fundraiser tomorrow night - I expect we can eliminate at least another one or two based on their reactions to the event. Then early next week you’ll spend a day with each of the remaining matches, amidst your other duties.  They’ll shadow you somewhat as I did, to dedications and speeches and such.  If our long shot surfaces long enough to get her here, you’ll spend some time with her as well.”

“And when do I need to choose?”  Despite his earlier enthusiasm for his steak and eggs, he was now pushing bits of egg around the plate in circles with his fork, staring at the food without seeming to see it.

“I recommend by next weekend,” Rose said softly, “so you have at least a few days before the engagement party to focus on each other and be sure.  Well, as sure as you can.”  It was a tight timeframe, too tight, but all she could do was cross her fingers and hope for love at second sight, if not first.  Come on, Reinette, answer your phone!

“Do I have to marry one of these three women?  If I found… found someone who suited me better?”  He raised his head, watching her expression intently, and she floundered for a moment.

He’s not saying what you think he is, the little voice in the back of her mind that sounded like her mother whispered.  Don’t be so presumptuous.  “That’s not up to me,” she said truthfully.  “The Princess hired me to find you a wife – I certainly have no authority to force you to do… anything.  If you were to find someone… someone else, I’d be happy to run you both through our program, find your compatibility percentage.”

“Even if it cost you your fee?”

“I just want you to be happy,” Rose blurted with far more honesty than she had intended, eyes widening for a moment before trying to backtrack.  “I mean, my whole mission is to help people find love.  I want everyone to be happy.  You know?”  She chewed on her bottom lip, and for a moment, she imagined he was staring at her mouth with longing.

“I understand.”  The King nodded, and the tension vanished.  “Anyway, is there anything I can do to help with planning for tomorrow?”

-

Donna shut the door to Lungbarrow House with a relieved sigh, reveling in the peace and quiet after the organized chaos of the ballroom in preparation for the fundraiser, now a little over twenty-four hours away.  The servants were done for the day, the children still at the Center, and she had the house entirely to herself.

“Angel?”

Opening her eyes, she found her husband standing in front of her watching with a concerned expression.

“Hi,” Donna breathed, stepping forward into his waiting arms and sinking into him.  “Oh, it’s so nice to see someone sane.”

“Trouble?”  Taking her by the hand, he led her up the stairs to their bedroom, settling on the bench at the foot of their bed and watching her with patient eyes.  That was one of the numerous things she loved about her husband, his patient, easy-going temperament.  They were polar opposites in many ways, but that only served to make them work.

Donna shook her head, sinking into his side.  “No.  Not really.  It’s just so frustrating!”

Her husband hummed.  “What?  Planning?”

“Ian!  And Rose.  God, Lee, they’re so stupid.  Both are still pretending that he’s going to marry one of these women she’s brought in, and it’s infuriating.  I’ve tried hinting to him about her, and it’s getting me nowhere!”

“Rose?  For Queen?”  Lee tilted his head against hers as he considered the idea.  “That… sounds like a good match.”

“Right?!  Oh, wait until you see how they look at each other tomorrow at the Fundraiser.  There’s no denying what’s there – except for them, apparently.”  Turning her head, she captured his lips in a tender kiss.

He returned it, deepening it, one hand coming up to cup her face, thumb brushing tenderly along her cheek.  “I wish them as much happiness as I have,” he whispered, raining kisses over her face.

“Lee?”

“Yes, Angel?”

“Stop talking about my brother and start taking off your shirt.”

“Yes, Angel.”

-

Saturday, April 13th

Contrary to Thursday night, when the guest list had only included himself, Donna, and the five ‘bachelorettes’ as he had taken to privately calling them, the benefit on Saturday was open to the public.  For twenty euros any citizen could gain access to the Palace, attend a talent show given by the children Polly and Ben cared for, have a nice meal catered by the palace kitchens, and mingle with the royal family.

Ian had made sure the casual nature of the evening was very clear to everyone – especially his potential brides.  He himself was dressed in work boots, jeans, a Queen tee, and a black jacket with scarlet lining he particularly loved even if Donna said it made him look like a party magician.

In a fit of whimsy, he had stationed himself by the entrance to the ballroom so he could shake everyone’s hand as they entered and thank them for attending.  He found it particularly amusing how many would almost brush past him, stop dead, turn back and fall into a deep bow or curtsey and stammer excuses.

So far three of his five potential brides had stopped by to chat, each dressed for a State Dinner.  They looked amazing, in ball gowns and large jewels – and entirely out of place.  At least that makes it easy to avoid them, he thought gloomily, all the while realizing the folly of such a thought.  He would have to marry someone in sixteen days, and they were the best a professional matchmaker could find for him.

Objectively he knew many kings married for money or power or treaty, that few had married for love.  That he should pick whoever would be the best queen and be done with it.  In this day and age with modern medicine, he never had to even sleep with her if he didn’t really want to; they had several other options of having children that in no way involved sharing a bed.  And they weren’t terrible, he could see himself with all of them in some way – in another life.

But that’s not the kind of marriage I want.  What he wanted, he considered wistfully as he watched Donna and Lee sway incongruously to a popular pop song and giggle together, was someone who loved him, and he loved her, and they could share a reasonably-normal life.

“Yes,” he heard behind him, and he spun around, eyes lighting at seeing Rose standing there holding two beers.

“Hello!” he said warmly, raking his gaze over her as he stepped closer, away from the door.  Finally, someone who listens.  She was in dark jeans and heels which gave her a classy but casual look, matched with a worn Queen tee and leather jacket.  She looked better than the women in their ball gowns, and his heart stuttered.  “Wait, what?”

Rose laughed, throwing her head back, but naturally, not in the performatively-seductive way some of the candidates had.  “Yes,” she repeated, “I can find you somebody to love.”  His blank look sparked another round of laughter, and she gestured at his own shirt.  “Isn’t that the single cover for ‘Somebody to Love’?”

Ian stared down at his shirt for several long seconds, but eventually his brain rebooted and he realized she was right, chuckling softly to himself.  “I didn’t even notice,” he confessed, “just grabbed the first one I saw.”  In hindsight, perhaps it was a bit too on the nose.

“Well, I like it.  And hey, we match!”  She pulled her jacket away to let him see the detail; sure enough it had the artwork for A Day at the Races, the album from which Somebody to Love had first debuted.  A perfect match indeed.

“So we do,” he choked out, voice huskier than intended, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“How’s it going so far?  Oh!”  She thrust one of the beers towards him, flushing.  “Sorry, I grabbed this for you then forgot all about it.”

Ian took it with surprise, lips turning up as he tasted it.  “My favorite. Thank you.”  How does she know?

“You looked like you could use a drink,” she shrugged, sipping at her own, before her eyes widened again.  “Because you’ve been doing so much talking! I thought your throat was probably dry, not that you were bored!”

He laughed at her slightly panicked expression.  “I appreciate the thought,” was all he said before changing the subject.  “How are you finding the event?  Are you pleased?”

Rose nodded, her whiskey eyes lighting again.  “I don’t have much experience event planning, but it was so much fun!  Choosing everything, trying to find the right balance between the formality they would expect from the Palace but a casualness to make the average person feel welcome instead of intimidated.  But you didn’t answer, have you had a chance to speak to any… non-subjects yet?”

A small clump of hair had escaped her fancy hairdo, hanging over her cheek, and it made it difficult to process her words for a moment.

Grimacing, he nodded towards the high-top where all five women stood, each dressed to the nines, looking utterly out of place at what amounted to a casual fundraiser.  It was fitting, given what his heart was trying to tell him. “Apparently I wasn’t clear enough.”

Rose clucked her tongue, shaking her head and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, one that had been making Ian’s fingers itch to fix.  “Well, that’s disappointing.  Maybe they thought it was a test – the other way, I mean.  I don’t know.”  She huffed, irritated on his behalf, and he had to fight back a smile.

“By the by, the one in… what’s that color?  The reddish-pink one?”

“Coral?”

“Yes, her, and the one next to her in the bubblegum pink – I’ve had Sarah book them on the first train out tomorrow.”

Rose nodded, not looking surprised.  “If it makes you feel better, they were the lowest two compatibility scores of the five.”

A question was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down in favor of asking, “Any word on the French girl?”

“Reinette?  No, though we’re close.  We expect to get in touch by Sunday noon.”

“All right.”

They stood in silence together for the length of a song, sipping at their beers, and he tried desperately to ignore how right it felt, tried to ignore the advice she’d given him the evening before – he’d been up half the night with the realization that she was right.

He did know who he wanted, but she wasn’t his to have.

In the end, he would have to do what he always did – make do.

You can’t always get what you want, indeed.

[pandawritesthings210]

Branded

My name is Michael Dunn. I’m 23 years old. I’m about 6’2” tall, and I have blond hair and blue eyes. I, like many people, still haven’t met my soulmate yet. My necklace is still firmly in place between my collar bones. When I touch my soulmate’s skin, my necklace will fall off, and a brand of my soulmate’s name will take its place. I’ve heard from my parents that the process of their name branding your skin doesn’t hurt- it’s just a warm tingly sensation in your chest. 

You’re supposed to meet your soulmate at 25, and my 24th birthday is next month. I’m almost worried that I won’t find mine- or if I manage to find them, they’ll reject me. It’s rare- rejection from one’s soulmate- but it has happened.

I’m sitting in my university’s library and attempting to work on my project for computer sciences while I keep zoning out about the whole soulmate thing. So many people are really particular about their soulmate. ‘I want mine to be a guy.’ ‘I want mine to be a girl.’ ‘They better like Harry Potter.’ ‘If they don’t like Doctor Who, I’m rejecting them.’ are some of the phrases I’ve heard. I don’t care if they’re a guy or girl. I don’t care if they like Harry Potter or Doctor Who. I just want them to accept me, and I’ll accept them.

I finally focus long enough to get a few slides done and then notice the time- 6:49PM  is displayed at the bottom of the screen. Shit. I’m late. I was supposed to be at Gabe’s by 6:30. I think to myself. I look at my phone and see a bunch of texts and missed calls from him. I log out of the computer quickly, and I head to Gabe’s dorm. I try to text him as I walk, and that’s when I bump into a shorter girl with red hair and kind grey eyes. She bumps off of my chest and falls to the floor with a dull thud. Her stuff falls out of her hands.

I look up quickly with wide eyes and begin to apologize.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so clumsy that I run into everything- everyone apparently.” she giggles.

I kneel down and help her pick up her fallen items- noticing as I do so that her necklace is still in place. She’s super pretty. I think as I gather up her things. I place her things on the table next to me and stand up. I then reach my hand out to help her up.

“Here. I’ll help you up. It’s the least I can do since I kind of knocked you down.” I chuckle at the last part.

“Alright. My name’s Amelia, by the way.” she says with a smile as I pull her up.

“Michael.” I respond, smiling.

I notice a warm tingly sensation radiating from my chest, but dismiss it as butterflies from touching this incredibly beautiful girl. I gasp as I watch her necklace fall off, and I feel mine do the same.

“Holy shit.” we both whisper at the same time. I look at the space between her collar bones, and there stands the word Michael. I cautiously reach out to brush by fingers across the brand of my name, and she does the same. We both shiver involuntarily at the contact.

“I can’t believe that I found you.” she breathes.

“I can’t either. I would absolutely love to stay and talk with you for hours, but I’m already super late to meet my friend. Can I give you my number and -I don’t know- pick you up at 7:00 tomorrow night?” I ask her.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” she says excitedly.

I take out a pen and write down my number on a piece of paper in her stuff, kiss her on the cheek with a quick ‘bye, text me later’, and go to Gabe’s dorm. The walk there was short, and I knock on the door once I get there.

“Dude! Where the hell have you been?” he demands. His hands are placed on his hips, now I’ve never met his mom, but I’d bet $100 he’s the spitting image of her right now.

“Okay, so you’ll never believe what just happened.” I say, laughing as he raises one eyebrow.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What happened?” he says skeptically. His green eyes alight with uncertainty.

“So, I was working on my computer sciences project when I realized I was late to meet you. I got up and was trying to text you when I ran into this girl, so I helped her pick up her stuff and helped her off the ground; a warm tingly sensation went throughout my chest after I touched her. Look at my chest- no necklace. I met my soulmate and literally knocked her off of her feet.” I laugh at the last bit.

“Well, I suppose that’s a valid excuse for being late for video game night. You know I’m gonna have to meet her at some point, right?” he responds.

“Well, obviously. You’re my best friend, Gabe. I’m obviously going to introduce you two at some point.” I tell him.

“Okay, good.” he says as we finally go inside to play video games for a little while.

As I make it back to my dorm after a few hours of video games and pizza, I look at my phone and notice a text from an unknown number.

‘Hey, it’s Amelia. What do I need to wear tomorrow?’

‘Well, I was thinking we could go to dinner and then a movie, so whatever you feel cute and comfy in.’

‘Okay. Goodnight, Michael. I can’t wait until tomorrow night. :)’

‘Goodnight, Amelia. I can’t wait either :)’

I fall asleep with a smile on my face and butterflies in my stomach.

I wake up in the morning with a wide smile already plastered on my face. I’m ridiculously excited for tonight already. I get dressed and heat up a quick breakfast before quickly going to class. I sit in my programming class a bit more distracted than usual, and apparently it shows, because after class my professor holds me back.

“Michael, is everything okay? You’re usually one of my most attentive students, but today you were hardly paying attention.” he says.  

“Yeah, I’m just really anxious. I finally met my soulmate yesterday, and we have a date tonight. I’m so excited and nervous at the same time. I just- I’ve always been scared of rejection. I know it’s rare, but it has happened.��  I tell him.

“Michael, you’re a great kid. I’m sure that they won’t reject you.” he responds reassuringly.

“I really hope not. She’s so pretty, and she seems super nice.” I say  with a small smile.

“What’s her name, if you don’t mind my asking.” he asks.

“Amelia. What’s your soulmate’s name?” I smile.

“Steven.” he replies, his voice full of love.

“You really love him, don’t you?” I ask, already sure of the answer.

“I do. We’ve been together since we were 16.” he responds, fiddling with his wedding ring.

“Well, anyway. Good luck Michael.” he says.

“Thank you, Professor Spencer.” I say, smiling as I walk out of the classroom.

I get home after going to the rest of my classes, and it’s 4:30PM I take a shower, and then I call Gabe before changing into some sweats and a t-shirt.

Gabe comes over after my panicked phone call begging him to help me figure out what to wear and how to do my hair. He fixes my hair in a way that looks really good and intentionally messy.

I wear a blue, long-sleeved button-down that make my eyes stand out, and my nicest pair of blue jeans. I just wear my black and white converse for shoes. I bring my blue zip-up hoodie as well just in case I need it. I notice that it’s about 6:30PM and decide to go ahead and leave, so I won’t be late. I thank Gabe for helping me as I leave, and he makes me promise to text him later about how it goes.

I find Amelia’s little off-campus apartment quite easily, and make my way up the steps to her door with a rose in my hand. I’m so nervous and excited. I knock lightly on the door.

“Just a second!” she calls from behind the door. When her smiling face opens the door, my breath is taken away for a second. She looks so beautiful. I think. She has on a grey and black striped shirt tucked into a high-waisted skirt, tights, and some ankle length boots. I hand her the rose with a shaky hand.

“This- this is for y-you.” I say with a deep blush staining my cheeks.

“Aww, Michael! It’s beautiful! I’m going to go put this in water really quick. You can come inside if you’d like.” she smiles.

“Okay.” I say while stepping inside her apartment and shutting the door with my foot. There’s a fluffy corgi on the small couch in the living room that watches me with curiosity. I go over and pet the space between his ears on the top of his head lightly.

“Oh, I see you’ve found Twinkie. He seems to like you.” she says as she fills a vase with water.

“Oh my gosh. His name is amazing. I love it.” I laugh.

‘He looked like a tiny Twinkie when I got him so… yeah. You ready to go?” she asks.

“Yeah!” I smile. Having been around her for even a short amount of time has calmed me down a bit.

We walk out to the car, and I open her door for her to get inside then shut it. I walk back around to my side and get in.

“So I never got to actually ask you this, but is Italian food okay?” I ask her.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” she says happily.

We talk on and off as we drive to a cute little Italian restaurant that I love in town. We pull up to the restaurant, and I get out, go around to her side, and open her door.

“And they say chivalry is dead.” she smiles.

“It’s not dead, but it sure as hell is dying.” I smile in return.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong there, Michael.” she says as we walk inside. I place a gentle hand protectively on her lower back, feeling the soft material of her shirt under my fingertips.

We sit down, and our waitress takes our drink orders soon after. We talk about ourselves and get to know one another as we eat, and I can definitely see how she’s my soulmate. She loves Star Wars, Star Trek, Harry Potter, and Doctor Who, she plays video games, and she loves animals. She’s exactly like me, and I absolutely love it. I love her. I realize all at once. She’s laughing at something I said, and the realization hits me like a freight train.

After dinner is over, I pay quickly, and we walk out to my car. I still open and close her door for her. I get inside and buckled up, and then I look at her curiously.

“So… there’s a showing of episode VIII in about an hour. Do you wanna go?” I ask hopefully.

“Oh my gosh, yes! I haven’t been able to see it yet, and I really want to.” She squeals in excitement.

*tiny timeskip to after movie*

“So was it as good as you thought it would be?” I ask her as we walk back to my car, our fingers intertwined between us and swinging as we walk.

“Yes! Oh my gosh, it was so good! I want my own Porg now!” she squeals happily.

“Yeah, they were really cute.” I agree.

“I know~ their little eyes! My heart like exploded.” she gushes.

“Aww don’t let it explode. I can’t steal it if it’s exploded.” I say with a smirk.

“Michael, you already have it. I am yours just as you are mine.” she pulls the collar of her shirt down to reveal the brand of my name as she stops and turns to face me.

“And this proves it.” she smiles.

I run my fingers lightly over the brand, and her eyes flutter shut at my touch. I move my hand from my side to her waist, and I move my other hand from her collar bones to cup her cheek in my palm. I lightly pull her into my body and look down at her face. Her grey eyes are wide as they look into my blue ones, and her painted-red lips are slightly parted in a gasp of surprise.

“Amelia?” I ask, not a hair above a whisper.

“Yes, Michael?” she replies in the same tone.

“May I- May I kiss you?” I ask hopefully and still in a whisper.

She nods with a smile and -using her arms wrapped around my neck for support- goes up on her tiptoes to connect our lips. My heart rate speeds up, my hands grip her tighter, and we kiss each other as if this kiss is the only thing we have been waiting for in life- and it kind of is. She tastes like cinnamon and lemon- an unusual combination that I’m sure I’ll never become tired of. Our lips move perfectly in sync, and an overwhelming feeling of home envelopes me.

When we break apart and look at each other, I find that her eyes are wide, her breathing is heavy, and her lipstick is completely smudged all around her mouth. I feel a smug satisfaction set in as I realize that I am the one who did that.

She starts giggling, and then she doubles over in laughter.

“What?” I ask with a smile.

“My lipstick is all around your mouth!” she manages to say through all of the giggles.

“I don’t really care. It’s just proof that I got to make out with a really pretty girl, and that pretty girl just happens to be my soulmate.” I say before leaning down and pecking her lips softly once more.

“You are amazing. You’re so kind, and you have such a big heart. I know we’ve only just met, but… I love you, Michael.” she says, smiling into the kiss.

“I love you, too, Amelia. I’ll forever be yours… if you’ll have me.” I breathe between kisses. She breaks away after my last sentence, and I make a small noise of protest.

“Michael, what do you mean by if I’ll have you? Of course I’ll have you, Michael. Why would you ever think otherwise?” she asks with wide and skeptical grey eyes.

“I- I’ve always been afraid of rejection- always. I just never thought that anyone would actually be willing to stay with me for the rest of our lives. I’ve just never thought I was good enough. I mean come on- my hair is a disaster, I have scars all over my-” I don’t get to continue my self-loathing rant as I’m pulled down by the collar of my shirt and a pair of warm, soft lips crash into mine. I kiss back immediately, reveling in the feel of her lips against mine and her hands in my hair.

“Michael James Dunn! I never want to hear you talk about yourself that way ever again, okay? I love you. I completely accept you as my soulmate, and I will gladly stay with you for the rest of our lives.” she says comfortingly, but with an undertone of fierce determination.

I crash my lips into hers once more, and she lets out a small squeak of surprise.

“Thank you. I really, really needed to hear you say that.” I say sincerely after we break away.

After this we get into the car, and I start the engine. I then hear Amelia pipe up.

“Would… Would it be possible for you to stay at mine tonight? Just- after that, I really feel the need to be close to you.” she says nervously.

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a very long time. I feel the same way, honestly.” I smile and start driving back to her apartment.

“Then let’s go to mine, and we can wipe all this makeup off, yeah?” she says.

“Gosh yes, it’s so sticky. How do you willingly put this on?” I ask her.

“It’s not that bad when it’s where it’s supposed to be.” she giggles.

“Yeah, I guess that’d help, wouldn’t it?” I chuckle lightly.

We get to her apartment fairly quickly, and then we get inside and lock the door. Twinkie is staring at us from his spot on the couch. Amelia turns on the light and guides me to the bathroom.

“Let me see your face.” she requests then gently cups my chin in one of her hands while wiping some sort of wet cloth across my mouth and chin.

“There. All of the the lipstick is gone.” she declares. I smile and thank her quietly. I watch as she removes the makeup from her face and smile when it’s all off.

“You’re beautiful with and without makeup, My love.” I say, lifting her up and placing her on the counter, standing between her legs in an attempt to get closer. I kiss her softly, cupping her face in both of my hands.

“We’ve both had a long day. How about we get changed then go to bed, yeah?” she asks.

“Sounds great. Are you okay with me sleeping in just my boxers?” I respond.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’m just gonna sleep in a t-shirt and my underwear if that’s alright.” she says.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll stay here and get changed. Then I’m gonna go pet Twinkie some more. Let me know when I can come to bed.” I tell her.

“Okay, Micha.” she says before pecking my lips quickly and hopping down from the counter. I quickly strip down to just my boxers then go out in the living room to pet Twinkie. He wags his tail excitedly when I walk in the room. I sit on the couch and pet him for a few minutes until a soft,“Micha, you can come to bed now.” moves me from my spot.

I walk in her room and slide under the covers on the side of that she’s not on. She’s on her side facing the wall, and I wrap my arms around her waist. I bury my face in her neck and inhale the scent that can only be described as home and Amelia. We fall asleep soon after hushed ‘goodnight’s are exchanged, and it’s the best night’s sleep I’ve ever gotten.

[polymetis-23]

Diary Entry Sept. 12th, 2021

Day 1: Sunday - Computers Galore!

   Everything is starting to settle down after the hectic week that was orientation. There are still some events happening for fraternities and sororities, but I don't think I would have the time to commit to them this semester, maybe I'll try recruitment next year. Either way, now that I am not running around like a chicken with their head cut off I can focus on getting properly set up my station.

   Wait… I'm not sure I ever explained to y'all what my goal is. Looking back through old posts the answer is no, sorry to keep you in the dark but basically I want to become a hero. I've always loved reading the comics and watching the movies growing up and now I'm somewhere that I can develop the technology to become one myself. Cool right!?

   So basically I brought a couple monitors and a desktop tower with me so I could surveille the city for anyone in need of help. I do need to figure out how to hack into the cameras around the city though … I have gotten some books and am taking a class this semester on coding so hopefully the hacking thing won't be too bad. I mean, everyone in movies has somebody who can do it right?

Day 2: Monday - Coding == spaghetti + alphabet soup; result = TRUE

  Okay, so I promise I read some of the coding books prior to coming to campus and thought I understood what was going on, but uh, I don't? I mean there are all these letters floating around and subsets of letters that are supposed to be abbreviations for long words but then multiple words start with the same first few letters sooo… yea idk. And even if you can figure out what variable they are talking about (or even the ones you create, because I'll be honest, I term a variable and then work on some code and about 20 lines later have forgotten what it means), you are then jumping all over the place because of functions and then there are classes above functions and objects which can jump between classes and each have their own set of functions so you can't use the same function on different objects if they have different classes unless one is a subclass or the function exists in multiple places but then you could have the same named function that acts differently depending on the class of the object and yeah. Are you confused yet, because I'm not (that is a lie, I am totally lost in this mess of coding and hope the intro class can help untangle it).

Day 3: Tuesday - Going old fashioned

  Okay so maybe I was a little over ambitious trying to hack into the city camera network without having taken a single programming class cause yesterday was a complete fail. So I think I'll go a bit more old fashioned and get a radio to scan all the police channels. I'm not giving up, that's not what this is, I'm just putting the coding on a back burner until I actually understand what is happening, plus the police scanner will be enough for the majority of crimes right?

  I went dumpster diving (I know gross) around campus to see if I could find any old police radios, cause correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think store bought radios can usually hear those frequencies? Thankfully it was worth my time cause I found an old radio hidden in-between the cushions of a couch. (those things are literally black holes). Anyway I returned to my room to take a shower and set up the radio.

    Upon searching the best ways to connect the radio to my computer, I discovered that yes, you can buy radios that can listen to police channels so I guess all that the dumpster diving did was save me some money/time (you can apparently build these things too? Maybe I should research more often). Anyway I got the radio hooked up to my computer so I can keep things centralized before going to sleep. Oh yeah, classes also start tomorrow.

Day 4: Wednesday - Classes, Yay!?

    So I had my first day of classes today and isn't college supposed to be less time consuming than highschool even if the material is more advanced? Classes only meet 2-3 times a week and I don't even have all my classes everyday. Like seriously, in highschool I had 7 classes every day 5 days a week. How on earth did my 3 classes today feel like more work? Maybe I'm just not used to it after summer break? I'm going to bed early tonight cause I have my remaining 2 classes tomorrow and I feel like I'm gonna need more energy than a single human can possess.

Day 5: Thursday - Classes aren't that bad.

  I guess I was just a little overwhelmed yesterday cause today was much better. Maybe it was partly because I attended a small highschool so, seeing that many people in the same long hallway was a very new experience. Maybe I'm just starting to get into the swing of things, I don't know. Reflecting on classes so far, I don't have much actual work yet seeing as most classes have just been reviewing the syllabi, though I'm sure I will actually have to start learning stuff tomorrow and next week.

   I did have some free time today in which I was able to create a prototype of the lenses that I want to use for my goggles. They're a bit flatter than I would like but I don't know how to curve the technology without breaking it yet so I guess that will be an advancement for later. Thankfully I was able to find some code online that already takes the signal from the camera I ordered and puts it on a screen so I might actually be able to use these soon.

Day 6: Friday - The camera hath arrived!

  I got a notification this morning that the camera I ordered had finally arrived and I could pick it up. Thankfully Friday is a pretty light day for me in terms of classes, otherwise I might have skipped some to get the goggles working and that would not have been a good start to my college career. Of course nothing can go smoothly when building stuff (why do shows have everything just working, can't they actually show me how to make it work and the errors I might encounter? It is so much more entertaining watching them than some old white dude drone on about vectors and integration… maybe the fact that they montage through the failures is what allows the shows to be interesting. Hmm something to chew on there I guess.)

   I'm writing this at midnight and should probably get some sleep, but I will most definitely be testing these goggles tomorrow.

Day 7: Saturday - The test!

   The goggles turned on without blowing up! (That's a start right, something I should be excited about and not something that is a given with these sorts of things?) And I could actually see what the camera was seeing, although it was a little disorientating cause the camera is a good inch above my eyes and the screen is translucent so I'm getting an overlap between what I can see in front of me an a shrunken off set view of what the camera can see. The weirdest thing is the fact that the IR camera (the code maybe?) shows things tinted red, I guess that is how the programmer decided to depict the IR waves since we can't normally see them. The camera had a couple different modes built in, the most interesting being the thermal detection where everything was displayed in a gradient across the rainbow (I'm sure that will come in handy later). But I think the default is all I can use for now with the contrasting position of the camera and my eyes, I'll have to sort the rest out later.

   I went outside once it got dark to test the goggles in a setting more similar to where I would be using them. Thankfully I went out late and there weren't a lot of people around. Everything was covered in a haze of red, I had no idea there was this much ambient IR radiation. Some of the building windows were slightly more intense, I assumed there was some poor grad student staying late to finish their research. I continued to look around exploring the new layer of information I could see before turning around to head back to my dorm. As I was walking to my dorm I could see across the river and stopped in my tracks. There were bright red beams shooting across my vision, quickly I took off my goggles to get a better view, but the lights vanished. Confused, I put the goggles back on and there they were again. Every few seconds a bright beam would shoot up off the ground and across the sky. The angle looked too steep to be coming from a window so there was definitely something happening on the ground, but what? That was the question. *low battery* flashed across my eyes. Great, I forgot how long I had been testing the goggles, I'll need to add a power pack to the next version of these. I guess my exploring is done for the night so I'll see you guys next week.

- Polymetis

[hoeseok]

Guardian Angel

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader x Namjoon

Genre: Angst and slight fluff

Warnings: Mentions of cancer, death, and suicide attempt

Word Count: 6.4k

Summary: A tragedy unexpectedly strikes your family, and when you start to believe that you’ll never be happy again, you meet the person who will change your world.

A/n: Honestly, this took longer than expected to write this, but it’s finally completed. I also would like to give a shout out to @aichan11 for being my beta for this because she’s amazing and put up with all my questions I asked.

During the third week of August on a Saturday, you were moving into your dorm, and your loving parents came to help out as you had a ton of boxes to unpack because you over packed, like always. Once you unlocked the door, you were surprised when you saw half of the room already moved in, but then you remembered that you were assigned a roommate over the summer. You didn’t really mind (as long as both of you got along) because it would be nice to have at least one friend here.

After all the boxes had been unloaded and brought up to your room, your parents lingered around before hugging you goodbye because they dreaded this moment, knowing that they would have to leave you on your own after 18 years of you living under their roof. The walk to their car was hard enough as you tried to stay strong with a smile on your face, but when you watched them drive away, you almost made it without shedding a single tear until you saw tears falling from your mom’s eyes. Your blurry vision made it hard for you to look at people in the eye, so you slowly headed back to your room with your eyes glued to the ground. Hopefully this way they wouldn’t be able to see that you were already homesick. As you were decorating your room to make it feel more like home, others on the hallway were still moving in, so it felt quite lonely not being able to introduce yourself yet. Later that evening when you were lying on your neatly made bed, you heard a key rattling in the door, and your head nervously shot to the door being opened. Your wide eyes made eye contact with the person standing in the doorway, and you froze for five seconds before a soft smile formed at the corners of the other person’s mouth.

“Hi, I’m Kara. I’m your roommate,” she said shyly. Kara’s features were delicate yet beautiful. Her brown eyes were as rich as Hershey’s milk chocolate, and they sparkled in the fluorescent light above. Her long dark brown hair smoothed over her back, with the caramel highlights peeking through slightly. From where you were sitting, she didn’t seem that much taller than you, give or take an inch or two.

“Hey, I’m y/n. Nice to meet you,” you said still sitting on your bed without bothering to stand up.

“Nice to meet you too, y/n. Would you like to join me for ice cream? Ever since I got here this morning, I’ve been craving some strawberry cheesecake ice cream, and this town has some of the best.” She took a few steps to stand next to the foot of her bed as she patiently waited for your reply.

You contemplated your answer for a few seconds before replying because honestly, you just wanted to stay in since all this moving wore you out. However, you agreed to it anyways, and when you told her yes, her eyes lit up like lights on a Christmas tree.

The ice cream shop was located next to a tiny run down shopping center 25 minutes off campus. It looked out of place with its brightly lit lights shining through the pristine windows in an area with potholes of all different sizes in the parking lot and closed stores all around. The shuttle bus that dropped your roommate and you off outside of the shop headed back to campus and disappeared into the darkness of the night. Even though the rest of the shops were closed for the night, this ice cream shop was full of lively people laughing and chatting with their friends. School was about to begin for the semester, and people were catching up with others on the details of how they spent their summer, whether it was an internship, work, or traveling. The chatty voices coming from every corner of the room made you want to go back to your dorm for peace and quiet as social situations like these drained your energy, but you couldn’t turn back now because your roommate was so excited for ice cream, and you didn’t want to leave her alone.

Scanning the endless possibilities of ice cream flavors when you got to the front, you saw a little bit of everything – cotton candy, mint chocolate chip, chocolate, birthday cake, rocky road, strawberry cheesecake, chocolate chip cookie dough, and much more. The countless options of different flavors to choose from made it extremely hard to narrow your answer to just one.

“Ma’am, ma’am. What would you like to get?” the worker asked impatiently as a line started to form behind you. You didn’t realize that you were blankly staring at the ice cream in front of you, and you snapped out of your daydream real quick. Embarrassed, you looked around at the people standing behind you and at your roommate already licking her ice cream cone in front of you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Uh, I’ll have the strawberry cheesecake ice cream in a waffle cone.” You felt your cheeks blushing instantly from embarrassment. You hadn’t even been out 30 minutes yet, and you were already spacing out.

He handed you your cone with the freshly scooped ice cream, and after paying, you joined your roommate at a table in the back corner.

“So,” you paused for a second to lick the melting ice cream dripping down the side of the cone. The awkward silence was uncomfortable and increased by the minute, so you quickly tried to think of something to chat about. “Are you a freshman, and what’s your major?”

“I’m actually a sophomore, and I am majoring in film production. My brother is an actor, and one day I would like to produce a movie with him as the main actor.”

“Oh, that’s really cool! It seems like fun to study that.” You nodded your head in agreement before adding something else to keep the conversation flowing. “I’m not sure what I want to major in. I was thinking about studying music education because I’m passionate about sharing my love of music to other people.”

“Really? I’ve heard great things about that major since this university has an excellent music program. When I first got here as a freshman, I thought about majoring in audio engineering, but I decided that film was more of my interest.” She sat back in her chair with her arms crossed to try to keep the warmth from leaving her body. “I should have brought a jacket with me even though it’s August. I always get chills after eating ice cream.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cold in here. I guess they have to keep it like this, so the ice cream won’t melt.”

As you kept the conversation flowing, Kara looked around the room since she noticed that most everyone had already left. Both of your voices seemed to travel across the room more since there weren’t many people in there to drown them out with their commotion.

“Do you think we should leave now? I’m not sure what time they close exactly, but it looks like they will be closing soon,” Kara questioned, interrupting you mid sentence.

“Uh, how will we get back to our dorm? We took the bus here, and I don’t think they run this late. It took the shuttle 25 minutes, so if we did walk back, it’ll take us at least a good hour or more.” You pressed the home button on your phone to view the time, and it read 9:15 p.m. “We should go outside at least, so they can start cleaning up.”

Kara stood up and pushed her chair in, and you followed behind her doing the same. Right before Kara opened the door to leave, you glanced over at the worker behind the counter, and he gave you a shy smile and a small nod goodnight. The font on his nametag was too small to read as you walked by, so you couldn’t catch his name unfortunately. Too bad you couldn’t read it because he was really cute with his purple hair that fell over his eyes. However, his dimples were what attracted you to him the most because you had a weakness for guys with dimples. It made them 100 times cuter, and you strongly believed that it usually brought out the softer side in guys.

It was quite windy for a night in August, but the temperature outside caused you to warm up slowly. The perfectly round moon gleamed brightly against the pitch-black night sky while the stars faintly sparkled in the darkness above. The luster of the street lights provided some light and only a few cars remained in the parking lot.

“What should we do now? I don’t have anyone to call to pick us up, and I don’t have the number to call a cab either,” you stated. You looked down at the time on your phone, and it was getting later as the seconds ticked by. It was a good thing that school wasn’t going to start tomorrow because it looked like you weren’t going to get much sleep tonight.

“Most of my friends aren’t coming back until tomorrow, so we can either walk back or maybe someone will be nice enough to give us a ride,” she replied, as she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I completely forgot that the buses don’t run after 8:30.”

“It’s okay,” you told her, while taking a seat on the sidewalk.

About fifteen minutes later, the worker with purple hair walked out of the shop and locked the door. He looked at you with a confused look on his face before walking away to his car. He wasn’t even halfway to his car yet when he spun around to face you and asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you both still out here?”

“We took the bus here, but I forgot that they don’t run late,” Kara uttered before you even had a chance to say a word. The puzzled look on the guy’s face disappeared, and he appeared to be thinking.

“I know this may seem sketchy because you don’t know me, but would both of you like a ride back to campus? I live on campus, and it seems like the most logical thing to ask. You don’t have to agree; I completely understand if you don’t trust me since we just met,” he said, looking at your roommate and back to you as he patiently waited for an answer.

Your parents told you to never take rides from strangers, but in your opinion, he came across as a true gentleman and someone you could trust. However, you were gullible enough to believe anything people say, so you looked to your roommate to see what she had to say about his offer, and she gave you a short nod.

“Um, we’ll take the ride back with you to campus.” Your voice was unsteady, but there was nothing you could do to halt the nervousness from spreading throughout your whole body.

He nodded in agreement and motioned for you all to follow him to his car. “By the way, I’m Namjoon. Nice to meet you both.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m y/n, and this is Kara,” you responded, while opening the door to his car.

* * * * *

On the first day of classes, you got lost trying to find the building your Fundamentals of Music Theory class was in. “I should have walked around more beforehand to familiarize myself with the campus,” you thought to yourself as you power walked across campus through the green, freshly mowed grass. Your calf muscles screamed in protest at the sudden strain, but there was no way that you could slow down and be late to class. Eventually making it with one minute to spare, you took the last open seat. The guy sitting in front of you looked very familiar with purple hair that you’ve seen before. Your eyes grew wide when you realized it was Namjoon. Thoughts ranging from “I wonder if he knows I’m sitting behind him” to “do I look good today?” raced in your mind, and you hoped he didn’t turn around at this very moment. If he did, he would see your cheeks blushing, and you probably would die a little inside.

When class ended, Namjoon turned around to get his book bag, and he acknowledged you with a smile. “Hey y/n. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you again too Namjoon, and I’m glad we have a class together. Kara and I are going to get lunch when she gets out of class. Would you like to join us?” you inquired shyly.

“Why not? I would love to, and I have a nice break between my classes.”

“Really? We can sit outside while we wait for her to finish,” you replied almost a little too eagerly. You found a metal bench for both of you to sit on in the cool shade away from the sun. “So, tell me about yourself because I would like to get to know you better.”

He thought diligently prior to speaking, as he carefully pondered about the words he was going to use. “Where should I begin? Let’s see, I am a sophomore majoring in music production, and after I graduate, I want to run my own studio production company. I fell in love with songwriting during my teenage years, and I try to allot time to write in my journal every single day. Now I have an urge to expand and learn how to produce and record. This is the stuff I’m passionate about, and I know that I’ll never want to stop making music. I live and breathe music, and it’s my life.” You saw the enthusiasm shine bright in Namjoon’s eyes as he spoke, and you never wanted him to quit talking about what he loved to do. “Now why don’t you tell me a little about yourself since I’ve talked quite a lot,” he asked. You wanted him to keep rambling on about his life because you could listen to him all day, but he insisted on asking about your life.

“I’m a freshman, and right now my major is undecided, but I think I want to study music education.” Your eyes drifted off of Namjoon to Kara as she walked out of the building she was in. She then saw you both sitting on a bench, so she strolled over with a smile on her face.

“Y/n, my stomach has been growling all throughout class today, so let’s get something for lunch,” she suggested before turning her body towards Namjoon. “Hey, Namjoon. It’s nice to see you again. How are you?” Kara spoke, her voice peppy and full of energy. You loved how delighted she always was because her personality boosted your mood up whenever she was around. It also became apparent that Namjoon had more interest in her than you, as it seemed like he was somewhat intimidated by you considering that he kept his distance even when you were next to him on the bench. Although he acted that way with you, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Kara, and Kara surely couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

* * * * *

Arising from the deep slumber from the night before, you felt well rested and energized, ready to begin your day. Rubbing your hands against your half-opened eyes to wake them up, the sun peeked through the thin curtains hanging from the window in your dorm, and the birds chirped happily; however, something felt off. Your gut told you there was something wrong, but you couldn’t put a finger on it. Shrugging it off without letting the thought ponder in your head a second time, you rolled out of bed and got ready for class. Quietly tiptoeing around the room trying to find clean clothes without waking your roommate was a challenge, but somehow you managed to find a pair of shorts and a matching shirt in the dim light. Neglecting to turn off your alarm since you woke up earlier than usual, the loud ringing began echoing off the paper-thin walls and revoked you from the dazed state you were in.

“Shit. Kara’s gonna kill me if I wake her up.” You quickly ran to your night table to turn off the alarm, almost stumbling over a pair of shoes. Fumbling with the buttons on the top, you succeeded in silencing the repetitive noise. Looking over at her still sleeping soundly, you were thankful that she didn’t hear your alarm. “Good, she’s still asleep.”

Grabbing a granola bar on the way out, you headed to your first class of the day. When it was time for lecture to begin, you diligently took notes since the professor could put any material on the exams. Halfway through class, the phone in your lap buzzed faintly against your legs. You looked down at the dimly lit screen and saw your dad’s contact picture light up. Usually when you received a call from your parents, it was from your worried mom instead of your dad, so this shot immediate red flags in your mind. “What could be happening that my dad is calling me? He never texts me, let alone calls me,” you pondered to yourself.

The professor dragged out the lecture for as long as possible, but the only thing you could do was watch the call go to voicemail since you couldn’t be disrespectful and pick up the call right then and there. Hopefully, the call was just a check-in to see how you were adjusting to college life, so you shrugged it off. Once class ended, you hurriedly packed your bookbag and headed for the door. Your thumb shook nervously as you pressed the home button to unlock your phone, and your head flooded with unwanted thoughts. Light rain hit your bare face as you stepped outside, so you quickened your pace back to your dorm. On the walk back, you hit play on the voicemail and put the phone up to your ear to hear what your dad had to say. Before the voicemail could even end, tears immediately formed and gushed down your face. You couldn’t believe it, so you replayed the voicemail to make sure you heard correctly.

“Your mom and I went to the doctor, and we found out that she has stage IV pancreatic cancer. She never showed symptoms, and that’s why the cancer was caught so late. She only has six months to live.”

Six months. 180 days. That is all the time you had left with your mom, and you could not believe what you heard from your dad. It seemed unreal; one day she seemed healthy, the next she had stage IV cancer. You kept pinching yourself over and over because you yearned to wake up from this tragic nightmare. Nothing worked, and you were stuck living in this bad dream. You burst through your door and ran straight to your bed to bury your teary face into your soft pillow. You were too distressed to even shut your door, but you didn’t care who saw you cry. Rummaging through your bag, you blindly felt around for a package of tissues. Pulling a tissue out, you patted your eyes and wiped your nose. Unzipping your jacket pocket, you took out your phone to call your dad back for answers. You heard the phone ring twice before a familiar voice was heard.

“Hey babe,” your dad answered the phone.

“Hey Dad. How’s Mom doing?” you frantically asked, hoping for answers.

“She’s a little shook up by the news today, and I took off work for the rest of the day, so I can be by her side to comfort her.”

“How can she have cancer? She seemed fine when I moved into my dorm, and now this is happening. I don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand it much either, but the doctor explained that pancreatic cancer is usually diagnosed at a late stage because symptoms don’t really show up beforehand in the earlier stages.”

“Are there any treatments she can try? There has to be something we can do.”

“The doctor gave us some options to check out - chemotherapy, palliative pain treatments, and palliative surgery. We’re leaning towards chemo, but we aren’t positive with our decision yet. I know you’re worried about Mom, but please don’t stress over this. Focus on your studies, and enjoy your first semester in college. Everything will be okay; don’t worry. I love you, sweetheart.” Your dad tried his best to reassure you, but there wasn’t much he could say to make you feel better.

“I love you too. Bye, and tell Mom that I love her.” Too tired to hold back tears, you ended the call and closed your eyes to escape the pain.

“Y/n, wake up. You’ve been asleep for almost the whole day now.” Kara said worriedly as she shook your shoulder. You blinked hard twice to wake up your drowsy eyes. Your eyes and cheeks were still puffy from all the crying earlier, and your head felt cloudy, as if you couldn’t think straight. She looked at you with soft eyes for a second until she sat next to you on the bed. You sat up to say something but nothing left your opened mouth, so you stared at the foot of your bed instead.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about whatever is bothering you. I’m here for you always. If you just want someone to hug, I’m also here for that.” You hesitated for a moment before holding out your arms, and Kara leaned in to envelop you in a hug. It was too hard to stay strong through all of this by yourself, and before you knew it, a single tear slid down your face slowly until multiple tears chased after one another. Removing your head off of her shoulder, you looked at the sleeve of her shirt now stained with your tears.

Breaking apart from her welcoming embrace and wiping your eyes with the collar of your shirt, you asked shyly, “Can I tell you the news? I need to get it off my chest because it’s been weighing me down.” Kara nodded her head yes and sat in silence as a signal for you to continue. “Today after class I got a voicemail from my dad, and he said that my mom has stage IV cancer. She doesn’t have much longer to live. I, I…” Before you could even finish your sentence, you were already sobbing as words were muffled into your hands. Kara quickly ran to grab a tissue and then came back to your side to comfort your shaky body. As both of you sat in calming silence on your bed, you appreciated the support from your roommate because there was no way that you could suffer through this nightmare alone.

Lost deep in thought in the beautiful world you created for yourself to escape the heartache of reality, you were immersed in picking at the chipped red polish on your left thumb until Kara interrupted you to bring you back down to earth. “Let’s go pick up dinner and hang out with some friends to get your mind off this. I can text Namjoon to see what he’s up to because it’s been a while since the three of us hung out together.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you said reluctantly, while hanging your feet off the bed until they reached the ground, and you leaned over to put your shoes back on.

* * * * *

Each day after classes, you called your mom to hear her voice no matter what time it was because you never knew when she would breathe her last breath. This was the toughest part for you, even more challenging than all your schoolwork, because every time you heard her weak “I love you” near the end of your call, it tugged at your heartstrings until you were on the verge of balling your eyes out. Since you were the type of person that craved for being in control over your life, you hated knowing your mother’s death was in the near future, yet no matter what you did, nothing would change the course of her life.

Pulling into the driveway of your parents’ small, cozy home, your dad eagerly waved to you while leaning on the handle of the stationary lawn mower. The unkempt grass of the front yard buried him ankle deep as weeds decorated the yard. The weeks away from home when you were at college, made you appreciate being home more even if your stay was just for the weekend. You missed having homemade meals, sleeping in your soft bed in your own room, having your pets around, and spending quality time with your family. As soon as you parked your car in the garage, you hopped out and ran to give your dad a bear hug, not caring about the sweat dripping from his face. His tight squeeze of welcoming you back home took the breath out of your chest, but you didn’t mind because you missed him dearly.

Quietly opening the door in the garage, you didn’t want to awaken your mom if she was resting on the couch in the living room. Peeking around the corner of the wall, you saw her chest rise and fall with every breath she took as she rested with her eyes closed. With her breathing barely audible, the hum of the television filled the silent room.

“Y/n? Is that you?” your mom questioned with her eyes still shut.

Startled by her question, your body jumped slightly, and your eyes grew wide, but the darkness camouflaged your reaction. You didn’t think she was awake, but she heard the opening and closing of the door. “Yes, Mom. It’s me. Do you need anything?”

“No, I just want you to sit, and talk to me.”

Walking over to the couch where she was lying, you took a seat on the floor next to her and rested your head on her shoulder. “How are you feeling? I hope you feel okay, and I’m sorry that I can’t be here more often.”

“Honey, don’t feel sorry. I love that you come home every weekend to be with me. That means so much to me, and I love you.” Taking a couple of deep breaths, she continued on with your question, “I’m feeling all right. I’m mainly tired by lunchtime, but your dad takes very good care of me. I do feel weaker now than when I did when I first found out, but that is nothing to be worried about, sweetie. You already have a lot to be stressed over with classes, so please do not be concerned about me.”

Choking back tears, you turned your head away from her view, hoping she missed your watery eyes. “It hurts me to see you in pain. I know you don’t voice it, but I can still see it in your eyes.” Your voice cracked as the words left your mouth, and that was when the sobs took over. “Why is this happening? I don’t know what I’m going to do without you. You’re my- ”

“Y/n, y/n. I know you’re upset, but try to stay strong for me. Can you do that for me? Stay strong now, and stay strong later. I told your dad that exact same thing because I caught him crying before bed a few times.”

Thinking of the future, you know you’ll ache for times like these when you enjoyed your mom’s company. You’d miss the connection you felt with her without having to speak a single word for her to understand. You loved your dad to pieces and appreciated everything he did for you and your family, but it was not the same. He wasn’t your best friend.

The months of your semester flew by faster than ever. In the blink of an eye, it was already finals week, and you clearly remembered the first day of classes like it was yesterday. Since you were a freshman, you mainly took general classes this first semester, so finals weren’t anything you were too terrified about. Christmas break was right around the corner, and the excitement of being home for a month grew in your stomach. The only thing that stood in your way of being free for a whole month was four finals and a paper.

* * * * *

“Do you need help unloading the tree?” you asked your dad.

“No, I think I have it if you’ll open the door,” he stated. With the Christmas tree blocking his view, he diligently stared at the ground until he made his way to the living room. After stabilizing the tree carefully into the stand, your dad slowly backed away with his arms spread out to the side, taking preliminary measures in case the tree tipped over. “Y/n, did you get the water?”

“Yes, I have it right here,” you replied, crouching down to pour the water into the metal basin. “Before we decorate, we need to place a tree skirt around the stand to hide it.” Searching through the boxes of Christmas decorations, your dad found the skirt hiding at the bottom of the box.

“The tree looks nice! I think this one is perfect one for us,” your mom paused to take a deep breath in, and then she continued, “And there’s nothing better than the smell of a real Christmas tree.” With her hands on her hips, she took a step back to admire the tree fitting nicely in the corner of the room.

“Y/n picked it out herself. She found a hidden gem towards the back of the farm, while I only found small ones that weren’t that pretty.”

“Yeah, I was about to give up on my search, but then I stumbled across this one at the last minute. It’s funny how once I stopped looking, I found a good tree,” you chuckled. “I’ll be back in a second. I need to get my speaker to play some music.” While walking to your room, you shuffled through your playlists on your phone to find some Christmas music. Once you got back to the living room, you turned on “Joy to the World” for background music and made your way over to the stack of boxes that your parents were already digging through. With help from your dad, you strung the lights around the tree carefully, as to not tangle them up, while your mom sat in a chair next to the boxes and tapped her foot to the beat of the music. When that was finished, you took the ornaments one by one from your mom, carefully hanging them up where they looked best.

“Y/n, remember this ornament? This is your handprint from kindergarten. I still can’t believe you’re all grown and in college now,” your mom said, reminiscing about memories of you at the age of five.

“My hand was so small compared to it now. It’s so weird how much I’ve grown,” you exclaimed when you compared your hand to the handprint.

“Ah, those were the days. I’m proud of the beautiful, young lady you’ve become,” your mom gushed.

“Me too,” your dad chimed in, agreeing with your mom while flashing you a grin.

* * * * *

Sitting cross-legged on the foot of the hard bed in the hospital room with your dad standing next to you, the deafening silence rang loudly into your ears. Blank walls stared back at you, and the cold air from the window crack brushed lightly on your right shoulder. Nothing but sadness permeated the stillness of the air. Your dad nodded his head toward your mom with a solemn look plastered on his face, and when he turned to face you, you saw the identical distressed and suffering signs that you were feeling. He squeezed her hand tightly one last time. This pain intensified by the second, but you promised to stay strong through all of this. Your dad and you both promised. “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have asked for a better life. I love both of you,” your mom whispered unhurriedly as she closed her eyes one last time. You couldn’t recall the exact time she breathed in her final breath, but you did notice how peaceful her face and body appeared to be. She wasn’t suffering anymore, and she was lastly in a place where she could be pain free. While getting up to leave the hospital room, you caught a glimpse of a small, white butterfly squeezing its way in from the tiny crack in the window and landing on the foot of the bed.

* * * * *

It was tough for you to admit that life was harder without your mom, yet you felt empty and believed that there was no purpose anymore. You dreaded waking up every morning because this meant another day of desolation, and you hated that feeling. You wanted more time to talk to her, to hug her, and to be around her.

Only a month after the funeral, you found yourself staring into the vast dark ocean as you stood on the edge of a cliff. The harsh waves crashed down below onto the black rocks that embellished the shore. The gray clouds blocked the sun from radiating onto the water, and there was a chilly breeze that nipped at your bare skin through the small holes in your sweater. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in to reflect about everything that had recently happened in your family and knew your decision was final. Nervously, you took a few steps back as your mind began to race, and your body began to shake. Shutting your eyes tight once more, you thought to yourself, “Just jump, and the pain will be gone.” On the count of three, you hesitantly ran, only to stop yourself right before you leaped off the cliff because in the corner of your eye, you noticed a white butterfly flutter by. That butterfly appeared to be the same kind as the one in the hospital room before your mom’s death. Your body trembled in shock as you stared at it and finally realized that everything would be all right in the end. This was a sign from your mom, and you remembered that she wanted you to stay strong for her, so you did just that. Still fatigued from the near death experience, you ambled away from the edge of the cliff to sit down and regain your strength. Wrapping your arms around your knees, you placed your head on your arms and unlocked your phone to check the missed messages and calls.

Kara: Where are you? You weren’t here when I woke up. [8:42 am]

Kara: Are you skipping class? [8:50 am]

Kara: You never skip class. I’m worried. [8:57 am]

Kara: And you always answer your phone fast. This isn’t like you. [8:59 am]

 [ (15) missed calls from Kara ]

Namjoon: Are you okay?? You wanna talk? [9:13 am]

 [ (2) missed calls from Namjoon ]

Dad: I hope you have a good day. I love you babe. [9:47 am]

With the last bit of energy you had left, you took the time to reply to their messages and let them know where you were at the moment. Then you pressed the off button to lock your phone.

The sun peeked out from behind the scattered clouds, and the warm beams hit your face, which made you squint to see out into the distance. Oblivious to the sounds of the footsteps getting louder behind you, you flinched at the repeated tap on your shoulder. Turning around with a shocked look on your face, you saw an angelic man standing two feet away from you, lips curled into a beautiful smile. He wasn’t like anyone you had met before in your life. This time was different, and your gut told you this man was special. His golden skin radiated from his slim body similar to the way the sun beamed down onto the Earth, and his beauty blinded you. His ethereal beauty and allure made you doubt his existence because he couldn’t be real. He was too perfect to be real. To you, he couldn’t be less of an angel. Unconsciously your mouth dropped open slightly, and your eyes grew wide before he brought you back down to earth.

Flashing a big grin back at you, he replied, “Don’t worry about that. You’re good.” Ruffling his hand through his jet-black hair, his bangs fell across his forehead and covered his eyebrows. “I’m Hoseok. What’s your name?”

“Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok,” you repeated his name over and over in your head trying to imprint his voice into your brain because the way his words rolled smoothly off his tongue made butterflies flutter in your stomach. Too shy to bring your gaze up to his, you stared at the ground while smiling to yourself. Eventually finding the courage to meet his eyes, you noticed that they were a rich chocolate brown with flecks of gold that glistened even in the dim light. “I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

He seemed to be thinking carefully before he responded. “Y/n. That’s a lovely name.”

You couldn’t help the grin from spreading across your face as you heard your name glide off his tongue like velvet, and gladly, there wasn’t anything to be timid about because he beamed right back at you in response.

There was no explanation to why Hoseok was here at the same time you were because the spot you chose was usually isolated from the general population as only a handful of people knew about this location. None of the pieces added up, so you were genuinely confused.

“Y/n! Look at all these butterflies flying around us. I’ve never seen so many of these in one place before!” Hoseok twirled around with his arms in the air before bouncing around in attempt to cup one in his hands. You giggled with laughter at how amusing he was acting and how he was already comfortable with you from the start. Prior to joining him in catching butterflies, you lifted your head up to the sky and mouthed a silent “thank you.”

[theamberfang]

Journal 204: Slow Start

Sleep Troubles

Today had an unusual start. I woke up thirty minutes ahead of my alarm, but still exercised on schedule. Afterwards though, at about 1100, I still felt really sleepy and tired. My assumption is that I didn’t sleep very well last night. First, I interrupted my usual evening routine—that I’ve been meaning to elaborate on for awhile actually—by watching some cooking videos on YouTube that I found very engaging. (This series specifically from channel Bon Appétit.) As enjoyable as I find these videos, watching an extra one in the middle of my routine may have actually made it more difficult to fall asleep. A second element, unrelated to my routine, is that much of the time I spent was sleeping may have been on my back instead of on my side. This latter element isn’t something I have as much immediate control over, so I won’t fret it too much, but my desire for a new mattress continues to rise.

To deal with my sleepiness, I simply decided to go back to bed. My body really wanted it, so that’s what I did; at the time, I didn’t feel like I could be very productive with how sleepy I was anyway. I did manage to get some sleep, on my side even, until about 1340. Basically, I slept through the time I had allotted for replying to Wan, but that’s fine since I had been initially prepared to write that message even later.

I wouldn’t have felt comfortable writing such a message today anyway since I think I overstretched my right wrist while getting up this morning. The pain and soreness was distinct from my usual experience from typing too much. As such, I was quite willing to spend my time sleeping instead of writing.

My Routine

I am mildly worried about having trouble sleeping tonight, but hopefully my evening routine can help to counteract things. I’ve been calling it a “routine,” but it’s a pattern of things that occur over the course of a few hours that I’ve basically been training my body to recognize as leading to bedtime. First is that I simply stop eating at 2000—if my mom has cooked a late dinner, I might eat a small portion up til 2100, but that’s my hard limit. Second is that I’ve scheduled my computer monitor to switch to a red-lit night-mode at 2300; at this time I also turn off my bedroom light. Third is something that I’ve only been doing for about one and a half weeks: listening to an episode of Welcome to Night Vale; I can avoid looking at the computer screen while listening, and every episode ends with the host saying “Goodnight,” which I think helps. Fourth, I brush my teeth—without turning on the overly bright bathroom lights. Fifth, I spend about 20-30 minutes looking for and watching some ASMR videos. Lastly, I watch a specific segment of this video, and actively participate by thinking of worries to have picked out of my mind and put in the bottle.

Just to put it out there, what I did last night was watch a video of Gourmet Makes between the third and fourth steps there. Right in the middle, interrupting what is usually a pretty steady increase of sleepiness.

The Rest of My Day

Though I missed writing that message, I did meet all of my other goals. I’m not entirely sure if I did them on schedule, but they happened. Oh, and my habit-free time was specifically spent reading more of the “Breadbook.”

Something that I want to note is that I’m on my final unit of Khan Academy’s grammar course. It’s been a regular part of my daily schedule for over a month, so I’m a bit sad to be nearly done with it. I can always revisit it in the future though—even if it’s just to listen to the lecturers, David and co, again. They’re such a cheery and pleasant bunch, and they became half of the reason I enjoyed the course. (The other half being my genuine interest in mastering the English language.)

Tomorrow Goals:

Dance for exercise; 1000-1030

Message Wan; 1100

KA: Grammar; 1300

Habit-free time; 1400

KA: Programming; 1500

KA: US History; 1600

Habit-free time; 1700

Journal; 2000