#I will go crazy reaches to get recognized for a Thing usually by Overworking On Fanart

[frostbite-the-bat]

i hgoupe I'm The roller guy to yall

[tavvattales]

hihi! was wondering if i could request a fluff where reader is singing/humming to themselves and [character] overhears? with bennett, xiao and childe <3 ty!! <33

Yesss! I love this so much 🥰 Here you are, I hope you like it and thanks so much for your patience 😊

If you can, please listen to Thomas Bergersen's song Promise from his album Illusions. It fits perfectly with this request 🥰

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GENSHIN IMPACT Character x gn reader fluff stories~♡♡

Scenario: Your beautiful voice

Characters: Bennett, Xiao, and Childe/Tartaglia(Seperate)

Pairings: Bennett x gn reader, Xiao x gn reader, Childe x gn reader

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety/sleepless nights, minor swearing

SFW------> Click down below for some massive fluff

Bennett:

● This guy absolutely loves the sound of your voice. When you soothe him after a long day with just your voice he wishes he could just hear you speak forever. The way you praise him and tell him how proud you are of him makes his heart melt every time. It's no wonder that when he hears you sing for the first time he hopes the moment would never end.

You had your fair share of bad luck in the past, but this took the cake. The Adventures guild asked you to check out some hidden ruins that were discovered that were said to be haunted. You somehow managed to get yourself trapped inside the old decrepit ruins while investigating the supposedly haunted remains when the ceiling above you collapsed, blocking your path.

You heaved a frustrated sigh, "I wish I didn't decide to go off on my own. ." You mutter, plopping down on one of the rocks that had fallen from the ceiling. Thank the Archons you didn't get seriously hurt, "Bennett's company would be nice right about now," you said with a frown. Thankfully being a skilled adventurer, you had packed enough supplies to last a while, at least until somebody realized you were missing. After all, these rocks were far too heavy for you to lift on your own.

A sudden shiver crept up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep yourself somewhat calm, "Right. . Supposedly haunted, they said. This is fine. Yep, " you grumble. You could swear you felt eyes all around you. The only thing that helped you calm down was to sing softly, so taking a deep breath you start singing.

Bennett on the other hand was getting worried as it was getting late and you always managed to come back before it got too late. He wished he could have gone with you, but he was tied up with another commission that he just barely managed to complete. He was starting to get restless and decided to make his way over to the guild to ask where you had gone off to.

Upon getting an answer Bennett ran as fast as his legs could carry him to come find you and didn't stop until he reached your destination. Sweat plastered his face, his silver hair clinging about. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his emerald eyes washed with worry. That's when he heard a soft, faint singing. Bennett's heart fluttered as he recognized that it was you.

Your singing voice danced in the old ruins, painting the air with a sense of gentleness. It seemed to calm the restless spirits as the feeling of anxiety washed away. Your voice grew louder, but still kept the same graceful, velvety tone. Bennett paused for a moment, his heart pounding as he listened to your beautiful voice. He knew he had to come get you, but he couldn't help but linger just a moment longer so he could take in you gentle voice.

This was a rare treat indeed for him. You only ever sing when you're by yourself. He considers himself super lucky in this moment.

Bennett x gn reader END

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Xiao:

● When Xiao heard your voice for the first time it was when you were speaking to Verr Goldet about renting a room at the Wangshu Inn. You voice caught his attention because it was so soft spoken. It made his heart flutter in ways it never did before. He wanted to get to know you, but never knew how to approach you so he stayed hidden and out of sight. When he heard you sing for the first time, he felt a tug in his heart.

You shot awake, your chest heaved as you tried to calm your breathing. Sheets soaked and sweat running down your temples, you were drenched. Another nightmare about your past you were desperately trying to run from taunted you as it lingered in your mind. You took slow, staggered breaths, trying to slow your pounding heart. The moon was high in the sky as it peeked through your window letting you know the moon wasn't even close to setting.

"Damn it," you let out a shaking breath, wiping the hair from your face. Once you steady your breathing you slip out of your bed and head towards the sink to wash the tiredness and sweat from your face. The water was cool, refreshing, as it washed away your worries. You changed into clean sleeping garments as you toss your sweat covered ones into a hamper in the corner of your room.

Debating on going back to sleep you ultimately decide against it, instead you decide to relax out on the balcony. Your room was on the highest floor of the Inn overlooking almost all of Liyue. It was absolutely breathtaking. You lean over the balcony rails, taking in your surroundings. The moon danced across your features, casting beautiful shadows across your face. You take in a breath of the crisp night air before you start singing.

You sang of your past, sorrowful, yet everything about it was beautiful. Your voice was soft, tears bubbling at the sides of your glimmering eyes as you felt the music in you flow. Little did you know someone was watching you silently and with care.

Xiao was perched on his usual spot on the roof also taking in the scenery before he noticed you. He watched as the moonlight enveloped you beautifully. Xiao's golden gaze shimmered, his deep forest green hair blowing gently in the night time breeze as he sucked in a breath for a moment, "Hmm. .?" He muttered, pulling his knee towards his chest as he leaned his head against it, his other leg dangling from the roof.

He closed his eyes, listening carefully to your sorrowful song. The sound of your voice caught his heart and how he longed to comfort you, to touch you, hold you in his arms where you would be safe and sound from the past you so long to run from. Xiao swore from this moment forward that he would protect you.

You heard rumors of an Adeptus living at the Inn and you hoped one day you would meet him. Tonight, though, all he wanted was to listen to you.

Xiao x gn reader END

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Childe:

● He really lives up to his alias. You both always find yourself playfully bantering back and forth. He pushes your buttons because he loves the way you react and vice versa. The playful tone in your voice drives him crazy, but in all the best ways. When he hears you sing for the first time it was after a really long day. It calmed him down instantly.

Childe came home groggily and clearly overworked. There were bags under his tired sapphire eyes, his red hair disheveled, "Y/N, I'm home," he calls for you. You were in the kitchen preparing supper, a savory smell lingering in the air. You came out if the kitchen to greet him excitedly, an apron tied snuggly around your waist. The sight of you excited to greet him made him smile as he pulled you into a deep hug, "Mm, I missed you so much, sweetheart. Today was brutal, " he vented, kissing the top of your head.

"You look exhausted. I'm sorry, honey. I wish they wouldn't over work you so much. . ." You pout, worried for the wellbeing of your lover, reaching up to fix strands of his messy hair before placing a small kiss to his cheek, "Get comfortable while I set the table. Dinner is just about ready, " you instructed, pulling away from his warm embrace, pulling him along to the kitchen table to get him situated.

You quickly set the table and serve dinner. The both of you enjoying a delicious meal while he talked about his day. You gaze at him lovingly, reaching out to grasp his hand as the two of you ate. After dinner Childe attempts to clean up the dishes before you abruptly stop him, "Nu uh. You go take a nice long soak in the tub and rest up. You've done enough for the day. I'll clean up, okay?"

"Awh, my darling is so caring," He chuckles and swiftly steals a soft, but warm kiss. You lean into it, standing on your tip toes, your face flushed pink before pulling away, "I'll meet you in the bedroom then." He whispers in your ear teasingly.

You give him a playful shove in response, "Yes, now go on." You feel the heat rising across your face as you try to calm your beating heart. You take your time cleaning up so he could have more time to relax in the tub. Finishing up, you untie your apron and hang it up. All you wanted to do was lay down and hold the love of your life so you make your way to the bedroom.

Childe is already slowly dozing off as he looks up at you from the bed, his sleepy gaze following your graceful movements towards the bed. You softly plop down next to him, "You'll catch a cold that way, you know," you said, picking up the towel that was on the dresser. You reached over to him to pat his hair dry, but he wraps his arms around your waist, catching you off guard.

He pushes you close to him, your face flushed, "Let me just hold you like this, please?" He looked down at you, pleadingly. How could you say no? You snuggle gently into his chest, breathing in his scent, his arms resting on the curve of your back. He was so sleepy, you wanted to lull him into happy dreams, so with a soft gentle voice you started to sing.

You sang an old Snezhnayan lullaby, your voice sweet, like honey. His eyes widened, then softened with surprise. Your gentle way of singing was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. He squeezes you a little tighter, his eyes heavy. You reached up to gently stoke his cheek as he drifted to sleep, happy that he was able to hear you sing, knowing he was going to have the best dreams tonight.

He hopes that you'll sing for him again and he'll be waiting patiently for that day.

Childe x gn reader END

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THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING! I had SOOO much fun writing this piece. Enjoy~ ♡♡

[maplecornia]

Chapter 4

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.06K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: this one is literally just revolving around one of the BTS members. i don't really have much else to say other than HYUNJIN'S BACK and I'm crying.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne

Kim Namjoon never imagined he would lose his assistant.

JaeJin was a great worker and a great friend. He loved music and expressed it through his very soul, his every move whenever he danced or helped Namjoon produce a song. Namjoon smiles as his hand hovers over the soundboard.

In the back of his mind, he remembers the days spent here ever since Jaejin was promoted to his assistant. He remembers the first time he met his dear friend, how nervous Jaejin looked, unspoken excitement reverberating off of him in waves.

As Namjoon pushes up the volume on the soundboard, he thinks back to the moments spent as Jae learned how to be his assistant, as Namjoon taught him as much as he could. How what started as respect turned into a mutual friendship, and later, a brotherhood.

Though Namjoon is sad to see JaeJin go, he is happy to see his dream accomplished. He will miss Jae's smile, his laugh, and his good heart, but he knows that just because Jaejin is taking a different path doesn't mean they will cease to be friends.

As soon as Joon finishes a part of his song, he sighs, pulling away from the board and whipping out his phone.

He doesn’t know why he started thinking about him all of a sudden, he was one of the first people to know that Jae was leaving. Besides, he would see him soon, it’s not like Jaejin leaving for a couple of months means that he won’t ever see him again.

Standing, RM walks out of the room, leaving Suga to continue by himself.

He's lucky that Yoongi has his headphones on. If he caught Namjoon slacking he wouldn't get off easy. Carefully, RM exits the room, shutting the door softly behind him as he leans against the wall next to the door to the studio. Turning his phone on, he checks the time, his heart thumping slightly.

8:30 am.

Perhaps the reason his mind is so full of nostalgic memories is that he’s been waiting since last night to meet his new manager.

Jaejin said that his replacement should show up around this time, but he hasn't given much information other than that. Namjoon pockets his phone and heads down the hallway towards the front lobby.

Staff members pass by him, some working for TxT, others for the new girl group they put together about 3 years ago, and even more for the new boy group that BigHit began putting together in 2020.

Namjoon finds their presence surreal.

The members of BTS's staff have been around ever since their debut, and even more, have joined the crew over the years. These staff members will no doubt do the same for their groups, maybe stick around till the very end.

If anyone asked Namjoon's opinion, he would say it was the staff that had to do the real work. And all from behind the scenes. They are the ones who help them put on a great show. They are the ones who tutor them, provide for them, allow them to create their vision, their masterpiece. They are the stitches behind the fabric.

To Namjoon, BTS is just the face. The whole idea of them, of their message, was created through everyone's effort. Including ARMY, including their staff, including BTS themselves.

Losing one of their members would be like trying to fill a hole that cannot be filled.

Perhaps that's why Namjoon is so worried about Jaejin's replacement.

No one can truly replace him.

Namjoon never wanted a new manager.

There was a reason he chose Jaejin out of all the others, a reason he turned a backup dancer into his manager. He needs someone with the same passion, the same grit, the same determination that he has. Jaejin had that, and more. He was able to keep up with Namjoon’s crazy schedule, his unhealthy habits, his tendency to overwork himself.

Normally it was Suga trying to keep up with him, trying to help him, trying to do the best for him, but when he met Jaejin, he found exactly what he needed in a manager.

Will his replacement be able to do the same?

Entering the lobby, he knocks on the counter, where a receptionist is taking a call. She looks up at his knock and he smiles at her, receiving the usual smile back and a slight blush on her cheeks.

After a moment of their little staring contest, Namjoon grows impatient. He indicates silently that he’s waiting to speak with her and her eyes widen in realization. She nods sheepishly at his signal, holding up one finger to signify to him that she'll talk to him in a second. He complies, settling in as she continues her call, faintly aware of Kim Namjoon behind her.

Namjoon is never sure how to feel about these types of things.

People recognizing him in the street, others noticing him even with a disguise, he doesn't know what to do with the attention.

Why didn't people pay attention to him before? When he didn't have all the makeup, the money, and the influence? Are they looking at him because they appreciate who he is as a person?

Or because he is Kim Namjoon?

RM of BTS.

Putting the thought out of his mind, he turns his back to the receptionist, unlocking his phone, and opening the chat with Jaejin. He doesn't see any sign of his replacement, but then again, how would Namjoon know what she looks like?

Hey

YOUNG APPRENTICE- oh hi, what’s up hyung?

When was your replacement supposed to be here again?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- ummmmm, 8:00 am or so, why?

RM pulls away from his phone, looking around for any sign of a girl who looks lost or out of place in the lobby. Every time Jaejin talked about this so-called friend, he referred to them as a “she” so the only thing Namjoon knows about this new manager is the fact that she’s female.

Sadly, as he desperately scours the lobby, there's no sign of anyone there that fits the description. The one girl who was waiting in the waiting area has just been called aside and led to a meeting room. Namjoon, a little worried, bites his lip before a buzz in his hands causes him to glance at his phone.

YOUNG APPRENTICE- Namjoon?

Yeah?

I’m sorry it’s just….she’s not here yet

YOUNG APPRENTICE- WHAT

Namjoon rolls his eyes playfully at Jae's reaction before walking out of the lobby. If she's not here, there's no need to hang around, and it doesn't seem as though the receptionist is paying much attention anyway.

As he leaves, the receptionist stares after him almost hopelessly, Namjoon oblivious to the longing gaze.

He glances at his phone once more maneuvering his way through the hallways of the building.

YOUNG APPRENTICE- are you sure?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- I'm gonna murder her

Well I can’t know for sure

Could I have a picture or maybe a name?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- I never gave you one?

Not to my knowledge

YOUNG APPRENTICE- oh I am so sorry hyung! Her name is Lin Yen and just give me a minute and I'll find you a picture

"Lin...Yen...." Namjoon murmurs, pondering it in his mind.

"Just who exactly are you?" he whispers, putting the phone down once more as he comes to a stop in a corner of the hallway.

Yen...he repeats in his mind, playing around with it, trying to see how it sounds on his tongue, how it feels circling in his thoughts, how it plays on his voice.

It's a beautiful name, one he hasn't heard often, and for some reason, he feels as though it's foreign. Another vibration from his phone jolts him out of his pondering thoughts, and he looks down at the screen, immediately bursting out laughing.

Jaejin has sent the picture of you, but it's not just any picture.

It's a picture of you eating salad.

But that's not what makes it so funny.

You and Jaejin are at a Korean BBQ in the picture, and you hold the signature salad bowl up to your face, your chopsticks hooked around an enormous bite. You're shoving the bite into your mouth, your cheeks puffed up like chipmunks, your eyes wide and nose pinched.

Your expression, your face, the fact that you're attempting to shove a huge bite into your mouth, everything about the picture is hilarious, and Namjoon can't stop looking at it.

He can't stop looking at you.

Now he is sure that you are a foreigner, with that complexion and your facial features. You aren't necessarily tall, but not super short either. Then again, Namjoon doesn't think that Park Jimin is short, so what does he know?

One thing is for sure, though…

You are beautiful.

And it’s not only the physical things that make you beautiful, though they are a contributing factor.

It’s the personality.

The charisma that exuberates off of you, managing to touch him most charmingly through a mere photo. The way you smile, how it lights up your eyes. The blush of your cheeks, and even the color of your hair. Everything about you has captured his attention, and he can't look away.

His smile doesn't want to fade, so he covers his face with his hand, leaning against the wall. No doubt he looks like an idiot, but he doesn't care.

You have that gift.

The natural gift of familiarity when you are less than strangers.

And it has surprised him. The cool, calm, professional, wise Namjoon wouldn't have thought that such a thing could reach his heart...and yet he can't stop smiling.

"Namjoon."

Startled, the smile fading just as quickly as it began, Namjoon jumps, his phone slipping out of his grip. Frantic, and a bit embarrassed, he fumbles to catch it before it falls, but to no avail.

He watches in hopeless despair as the phone hits the ground with a sickening thud, the screen immediately cracking at the impact of the harsh tiled floor.

Namjoon lets out a groan, while a slender, pale hand reaches out and picks it up. Wincing, he glances to his side.

Where Min Yoongi holds his phone in between his fingers as though it were a dirty piece of trash; looking unamused. Glaring at him with a stare as cold as ice, he drops it into RM’s hands before folding his arms across his chest. Namjoon rolls his eyes at his luck, sighing inwardly.

He doesn't look too happy.

"Hey, Yoongi, I--"

"Yes, please explain, Kim Namjoon." Yoongi drawls, his voice monotone and sending shivers down Namjoon’s spine. Almost shamefully, Namjoon turns off his phone and slides it back into his pocket, avoiding that icy stare.

"You're supposed to be helping, yet you left for what? To laugh at memes? Now is not the time to be fooling around with Jackson for heaven's sakes!” Though Yoongi doesn’t raise his voice, the severity of his tone is enough to make it seem as though he has and Namjoon has to restrain himself from visibly flinching away from him. After a moment of silence, Suga sighs, rubbing his temple with frustration. “Why are you so distracted today?"

Joon has been asking himself the same question.

"For one thing, they weren't memes and I wasn’t talking to Jackson. It was a picture of Jaejin's replacement. I was trying to see if she's arrived yet." He explains, a bit indignantly, before walking away towards the studio once more, hoping to escape the conversation.

He should have remembered that nothing escapes Yoongi.

"And did she?" Suga follows Namjoon, managing to walk fast enough to catch up with him and yet still look nonchalant and unbothered. RM sighs at the question, speeding up his pace, as he notices the studio door in the distance.

Jumping at the opportunity, Namjoon makes a break for the door, Yoongi calling after him in surprise. He reaches it, leaving Suga behind in the dust. Opening the door he sinks into a chair as though it were a refuge from the uncomfortable situation he found himself in. As Yoongi comes to a stop in front of the door, Namjoon acts as though he were there the entire time.

"Do you need something?" he asks innocently, and Yoongi rolls his eyes, walking in and closing the door behind him before settling into a chair of his own.

"Yes. I need you to focus on this project. This is important, and is nowhere near done if it's going to be our next title track." He murmurs, immediately setting to work, his mouse echoing in the silence. Biting his bottom lip in guilt, RM turns back to his phone, frowning a bit at the sight of the cracked screen.

Yoongi is right, Namjoon knows this.

They dedicated this day to work on BTS’s new title song.

Namjoon especially wanted Yoongi to produce it because of his incredible skill and work ethic. He practically begged him to take time off from his other projects to work on this with him, Yoongi is sacrificing a lot of his time just to be here.

Namjoon knows how important time can be.

It doesn’t help matters considering how this song is so essential to their comeback album. Promotion is still far off, but it doesn't change the circumstances. ARMY waited for them for so long to come back to them, it’s only fair that they give them the most groundbreaking album they can.

But RM can't focus.

And it’s for such a stupid reason.

Just because Jaejin is gone doesn't mean the world will fall apart.

He knows this, it's just...

Namjoon smiles a bit bitterly, turning back to the booth as he resumes his work once more.

"She wasn't there." Suga turns to Namjoon at the sound of his voice. Namjoon notices but doesn't pay any mind, continuing to play with the soundboard, creating his type of spell, his sort of magic. "In response to your question."

Yoongi doesn't respond, waiting for Namjoon to finish. That's the way he is, sometimes RM can’t finish a thought in one sentence and it takes him a moment to piece things together, what with everything else running through that expansive mind of his. Suga knows when to wait, when to stay silent, and allow RM a chance to tell him everything he needs to.

He's no stranger to listening to people, especially when it comes to Namjoon.

Sometimes, Joon just needs to let something out without anyone saying anything, and Yoongi won't say anything unless he feels it's necessary. He’ll listen, and be there for anyone to lean on, able to offer them the emotional support they need to carry on.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm a little nervous to meet her." After a moment, Yoongi responds to him, his soft voice carrying across the room in a comforting murmur.

"What's the big deal? If she's professional, she'll be perfect. I'm sure there's nothing to be worried about." He reassures him. RM nods, trying to concentrate once more, and put the thought of your arrival to the back of his mind.

Maybe Yoongi is right, maybe there is nothing to be worried about.

However, Namjoon can't help but think that your arrival will change their lives.

And who knows if it'll be for the better?

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: how are you guys liking Jaejin now? lol

chapter 5 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

[its-nebula]

Locked Room Lovin'

Rantaro x Fem!Reader

Warning: NSFW

Thank goodness that your day was almost over. You couldn’t wait to rush out and go home, take a load off. Working in a library might not be that difficult, but it sure was repetitive. You were just so incredibly bored, and now it would be your off day. You yawned as you started to do your closing activities, namely, checking in all the books that had been returned, earlier in the day.

You scanned every bar code that you saw absent-mindedly, thinking instead about how you would be able to collapse on your bed and sleep as soon as you walked through the door.

The library was nearly empty at this time of night; go figure, it was 8:30 on a Saturday. The only people still looming around were the usual book-worms that would more than likely be gone by the time the lights turned off. You’ve worked at the library long enough to know and recognize some of them by name, though you rarely ever interacted with them.

“Okay, S/O! I’ll see you Monday afternoon, I’m getting out of here.” Your boss told you, and you politely nodded. “If you need something, don’t call. My kitties need attending to, and especially Mr. Whiskers, he’s been feeling a little frisky lately.”

“Riiiight....uh, see you Monday.” You waved to her, and she sashayed out of the library doors. Not long after she exited, the other people in the library started to exit as well. 9:00 was growing near, and you couldn’t wait until you were the only one left. After the last person you saw bid you a good night, you sighed of relief. All you had to do was put the books back in their respective places, and you could begin true relaxation.

Humming loudly to yourself, you pushed the book cart around, knowing exactly where each and every one should go. 

“GAH-!” You jumped in surprise as you saw a green haired gentleman sitting down in one of the beanbags, his nose stuck in a book. He seemed to be focusing pretty hard, until he glanced up at you. You recognized him as Rantaro, and he took off the headphones he was wearing. 

“Rantaro, you s-scared me.” You held your chest, chuckling lightly. “I thought there was nobody else left in the library.”

“I see that it’s already 9:00. Guess I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“Oh, you’re fine! You can probably stay here until I’ve finished up.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t want to intrude more than I already have. Besides, I think I’m done for tonight anyways.” He started to get off the bean bag, stretching his legs in the process. He ran a hand through his hair, then looked at you. “I could help you put those up, if you so desire. I wouldn’t want you to stay longer than you have to.”

“Oh, Rantaro, you don’t have to do that!”

“It’s really no problem, Miss L/N. I need something to take my mind off things. Besides, we wouldn’t really want you to overwork those pretty little fingers of yours, would we?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he grabbed about half of the books that were left on your cart.

“I...suppose not.” You were honestly too tired to argue, and plus an extra hand never hurt.

The two of you put the books away, and surprisingly, he didn’t even need your help. After all was said and done, he looked at you with a smile on his face.

“That wasn’t too bad, right? If it’s not too much trouble, can I ask for one favor?”

“Knock yourself out.”

“That room behind the counter, that’s where you keep the books you’re about to give away, right? Would you mind if I took a couple of your fairytale books?”

“Go ahead.” You shrugged, searching for you card so that you could lock up for the night. “Be careful, it automatically locks from the outside.”

“I’ll be careful.” He turns around and disappears into the room, as you finally find you keycard. Happily wearing it around your neck, you went into most of the other rooms in the library to turn the lights off. As you went back to where the storage room was, you could see Rantaro excitedly picking up books; more than he looked like he could carry. He had one foot in the door, trying to keep it open.

“Do you need some help?” You offered, holding the door open for him. 

“Thanks, I couldn’t-” He wasn’t able to see past the large stacks of books, and he collided with the wall, causing him to fall, with books of varying sizes raining down on him. He rubbed his head, laughing nervously to himself. You couldn’t help but laugh as you offered a hand to help him up, moving away from the door.

As you started helping him pick the books up, you couldn’t help but hear the sound of the door shutting behind you. Your eyes widening, you quickly whipped around to see that the metal door had completely shut. You wiggled the useless doorknob in an attempt to get it open. “Shit! I think we’re locked in!” You exclaimed, slamming yourself against the door.

“Woah there, calm down.” Rantaro grabbed your shoulders, stopping you from ramming your body against the door. “Can’t you call your boss?”

“My boss... is busy.” You rolled your eyes. You looked away defeatedly, covering your face with your hands. “She’s going to kill me when she finds us in the morning...”

“Hey now, Miss L/N, what about the authorities?” 

“She would absolutely kill me if there was a big gaping whole where the door should be when she gets here. She doesn’t get here until 10:00, and she’d yell at me because she’d be held liable so early in the morning, and...”

“Okay, calm down.” He put a hand on your shoulder, and all you could do was slide down along the wall out of embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry Rantaro, now you’re going to be stuck here with me all night... I feel so bad...”

“At least I’m stuck here with the Librarian’s pretty assistant.” He smirked at how you seemed to get flustered, sitting down next to you. “Well, Miss L/N we might as well get to know each other.”

“...you can start by calling me by my first name.” You looked at him. “S/O.” It could be worse, you realized. If you were stuck with anybody, you were glad it was the admittedly hot guy you’d regularly seen around the library.

“I’m sure I don’t have to introduce myself by now. The name’s Rantaro Amami.”

You yawned, rubbing your eyes.

“Well, I’m not already boring you, am I?”

“No, no! It’s just that I’ve been here since like 2, and your voice is just very calming to me.” The words just came out of your mouth, and you realized what you said. “Sorry! I didn’t mean for that to sound weird!”

He chuckled. “I get that a lot, it’s fine. If you need to sleep, I totally understand.”

“No! I’ll be fine for a while, I swear.”

“Mhmm~... Well, suit yourself.”

The next couple of hours or so were exclusively spent on you and Rantaro getting to know each other better. The two of you shared anything that you could think of. You told him all about how you came to be a library’s assistant, and how you’ve been working there for a quite a while. You told stories about your boss, who was increasingly diving more into “crazy cat lady territory” everyday. Rantaro shared stories about his adventures that he went on. He listed off all the countries he’d visited, and the countries he had left to visit. He solemnly explained the story about his sisters, and how he just wanted to find them so badly.

“And... that’s why I come to the library every day. Read up on the cultures and traditions of the countries I have yet to visit and any things I should be cautious of. That’s what I do.”

“I admire how determined you seem to be.” You told him with a reassuring smile. You squeezed his shoulder, and he looked back at you with a sad gaze. “I’m positive you’ll find them one day.”

“Thank you, S/O. Talking to you...it actually helps a lot.” He looked away. “Well, I’ve run out of things to talk about now. Any suggestions?”

You shrugged, resting your head on his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter to me. Being in here with you... I’m strangely comfortable. You’re such an easy person to talk to.”

A few minutes of silence passed. The two of you just enjoyed each other’s company, before you felt Rantaro’s hand on your chin. He turned your head towards his, and before you could process what was going on, the two of you were entangled in a sweet kiss. You closed your eyes, lazily kissing back and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

The two of you stayed like that for a couple minutes, before you pulled apart. Your faces were within centimeters of each other, and you could hear him quietly laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“I guess I have a confession to make. I’ve wanted to do that to the Librarian’s pretty assistant for a while.”

Your eyes widened. “You have?”

“Call it a stupid crush, but there’s always just been something about you, S/O. I’ve always wanted to get to know you on a more... personal level.” He runs a hand across your thigh, and you giggle sleepily. You connect your lips with is once again, your fingers getting tangled in his now messy hair.

You positioned yourselves so that you were sitting on top of Rantaro’s lap. You deepened the kiss, enjoying how his hands were squeezing your hips, trying to pull you closer towards him. As sleepy as you were, you were enjoying this immensely.

His lips parted from yours, and kisses peppered your jawline, all the way down to your neck and your collarbone. He held you in place as you drowsily giggled from the sensation. You could feel his breath against your skin as he stopped, and you couldn’t help but noticed his hands had reached a little higher on your back. “Are you sure you want to do this...? I can tell you’re tired and all, and- oh.”

Rantaro watched as you slipped your shirt off, throwing it to the side. Admittedly, he’d been getting a little tired too, but if anything woke him up, it was that. He smirked at you, taking the opportunity to take his own shirt off. “Well, I do love a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Shut up and kiss me...” You groaned before connecting your lips to his once more, not hesitating to stick your tongue straight into his mouth. You smiled in the kiss as his hands reached up to undo the straps of your bra, slipping it off with ease. You bucked your hips into his, causing him moan out loud. You could feel how hard it was getting, and it turned you on so much.

He bit his lip whenever you threw your bottoms to the side. His hands were free to explore your body now, and he took full advantage of that. He felt how soft your breasts felt in his hands, he felt how sensitive your nipples seemed to be. He did the honor of sucking on one of your buds, while his hand traveled to your lower half. Already, he could feel the heat radiating off you. 

He took off his jeans and boxers, and you could feel just how hard his dick was in your hands. “Why don’t you put those pretty little fingers of yours to work?” He asked breathlessly. You happily obliged, stroking him and watching as eyes rolled into the back of his head, not able to contain the groans that escaped his lips. Leaning in, you sloppily kissed his neck, and all he could do is grab tightly onto your ass, refraining himself from cumming. 

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He practically rushed and fought to get your undergarments off, and repositioned you so that you were sitting on top of his lap, himself lined up at your entrance. Rantaro held onto your hips, and he licked his lips as he asked for one last confirmation. “S-S/O... are you sure this is what you want?”

“Rantaro...” You whispered into his ear. “Give it to me.”

He guided you so you easily slid onto his throbbing erection, and you kissed him as you moaned into his mouth. You two got into a slow , but steady rhythm, as you moved in a way that made him repeatedly hit exactly the right spot. He bit your lower lip as you moved back and forth, up and down.

“You feel so damn good...” He closed his eyes. You noticed he was even drooling a little between every grunt and moan. You were about to reach your own climax, as evidenced of the increasing volume in your sounds.

“Rantaaaro~” You whined, throwing your head back. “I’m gonna-” You didn’t have time to finish your sentence as you had your climax.

Rantaro’s body stiffened as that happened, especially as your walls tightened around him as he could feel himself pulsating. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let out a long sigh as he reached his orgasm as well. Letting go of your body, he collapsed on the floor. You slowly crawled beside him, feeling happy, satisfied, and more than ever, exhausted.

“You should probably sleep now.” He whispered to you as he reached for his shirt. “I’ll wake you up if anybody comes.”

“Mmmm~” You put on his shirt, beaming drowsily at him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing the back of your neck. “Thank you for an amazing night, S/O.”

You woke up to Rantaro’s light snoring, as he was still holding you close. You were about to go back to sleep, but you noticed the door was slightly cracked open, and there was a note next to you.

“Dear S/O,

Next time, consider calling before you indulge in intercourse with one of our loyal patrons!”

Rolling your eyes, you smiled knowing that you would almost certainly be yelled at as soon as you walked through the door. But that was a problem for the future. For now, all you wanted was to go back to sleep in Rantaro’s loving arms. And that’s exactly what you did.

[uwua3]

#5. sleep talk

♡ sumeragi tenma + happy ending ♡

for ☆: darcynne

note ♡: this was so fun to write! i love the concept of tenma being so comfortable with someone to reveal his true self~ and taking off his confident front to be vulnerable !!! i hope you like this~ thank you for these choices :D

game concept: celebrity boyfriend, friends to lovers, long distance

music ♪: last first kiss – one direction

If anyone knew the Sumeragi Tenma couldn’t sleep until you FaceTimed him all night, you’d be officially titled the luckiest person in the world.

Who wouldn’t think that? Nationally recognized, brilliant child actor born into the film industry with effortless talent was the most texted contact in your phone. Perhaps it was the accidental wrong number that somehow got you in Tenma’s extremely private personal number (to which he picked up with intense worry it was another random fan and his phone was leaked), but here you were, practically his lifeline of anything normal. It was honoring in a way to have such a famous person want to see you after every long day of practice and acting.

Though, with the way he dramatically flopped onto his bed with a childish grin aimed at you, he didn’t particularly seem like the famous phenomenon everyone knew.

“I missed you today, you know?” You blurted out just as his back hit his bed, receiving a shocked reaction even his years of experience couldn’t hide. Regardless, Tenma was always cool and calm as he coughed into his fist, attempting to hide his flustered expression as he averted his gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. You’d be nothing without me.” Tenma shot back, but there was no vemon laced in his words. It was the first time he looked genuinely calm, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in and out. You didn’t understand what it was like to be watched 24/7 by flashing cameras and chased down by adoring, obsessive fan clubs, but you assumed it was exhausting to maintain as a teen fresh into high school.

“You know that’s not true.” You started but slowly trailed off when you caught sight of his vibrant purple eyes, seemingly staring at you with a soft smile before you snapped your fingers. Catching him off guard, Tenma nearly dropped his phone as he tried to not curse loudly with a quick glance at his roommate. You heard Yuki call him a “real hack” in the background, to which you interupted Tenma’s angry yell with a laugh.

(You didn’t notice, but Tenma instantly turned back towards you with a complete 180 in his attitude. Yuki said he was a “simp” or something.)

“Whatever, you know I’m right.” Tenma replied but you realized his voice kept lacking the hard edge he had with everyone else. With you, he was intentionally quieter and more contemplative than he was in interviews. Popular celebrity Sumeragi Tenma was prideful and borderline arrogant in his thriving success. But, Tenma right here, the Tenma with messy hair and shining bright eyes whenever he looked at you, was anything but that.

You two shared a moment of silence, the usual talkative calls transitioning into keeping each other company. Silence with Tenma was never awkward or uncomfortable, it just felt... right, to be with him. So, as you both checked your daily apps with music in the background, you two barely followed along to the radio as night passed.

It was late, you knew that. You should’ve reprimanded Tenma to sleep so he had all the necessary hours to complete his busy schedule the next day, but a selfish part of you wanted him to stay on call. So, you winced at the time but didn’t insist on making him leave when he pointed out how late it was. Maybe, a part of him wanted to stay on call with you, too. Whatever, right? Future Tenma can deal with it.

As the night came and went, with Yuki sleeping soundly and the dorm turning in for the night, you and Tenma both stared at your ceilings with whispered words and giggles. Sometimes, you’d say something that made him laugh way too loudly, where he’d have to slap his hand over his mouth and kick his legs like a toddler. There was something oddly innocent about Tenma, how he found happiness in such insignificant things despite being a rich idol. You wanted to be the purpose behind his smile.

“Talking with you... is always the best part of my day.” Tenma muttered, without the usual bravado an actor would deliver in that powerful of a line. You paused, finally turning to look into the camera to see Tenma was already on his side, eyes closed and pillow hugged tight against his chest. He must’ve been on the verge of sleep talking, as his eyelids fluttered at the smallest noise.

“I feel the same. I can’t sleep without you.” You quietly laughed, to which Tenma did that damn soft smile again. It made your heart beat much too quickly for laying in bed, and you wondered how his fans would react to such a different side of him. When you were about to hang up after seeing his slow breaths, Tenma shuffled around before settling on his back and sighing, staring at you through half lidded eyes.

Usually, Yuki would give him some pointed look that stopped him from saying something stupid, but Tenma was sleep deprived and overworked, so he wasn’t aware of the truth slipping past his lips.

“I wouldn’t be able to live without you.”

Tenma didn’t realize what he said until you leaned closer to your phone, with an equally tired but sentimental smile. As if you had been waiting to hear those words all this time.

“Me too, you’re my favorite star.” You joked, causing Tenma to huff sharply as he crossed his arms over his pillow. Maybe it was the sleep talking, but he couldn’t stop oversharing every little detail he normally kept from you.

“No, I’m serious. I’d honestly go crazy without you—I work so I can go home and talk to you. You get me through my day, I like—” Then, Tenma sat up from his bed with a quick hit to the ceiling as he winced. You reached for your phone, concerned as you began asking if he was okay but Tenma’s head was spinning as he grabbed his hair.

Did he almost confess to you? Out of no where? All because he was tired?! Oh my god! Before Tenma could hurriedly end the call to scream without you witnessing it, he noticed you kept repeating his name.

“Tenma, Tenma, listen to me!” You called out, also sitting up this time as you leaned your back against a wall. You looked much more serious than before, running your hand through your bedhead as Tenma avoided your gaze.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I like you, too.”

Tenma stopped lying, taking a moment to rub his eyes and look back and forth between you and his own face on screen. When he moved to pinch himself, you laughed regardless of the unpredictable and chaotic confession you found yourself in.

“This isn’t a dream, Ten. I like you; I live for you, too.” You lowered your voice but the words carried just as much impact. Tenma released a breath he didn’t know he was holding, sinking back into bed with a surprised look before turning on his side with pseudo–confidence.

“Yeah, I definitely knew that.” Tenma unconvincingly stated and you fondly rolled your eyes, going back into bed properly, too. When another moment of silence passed, Tenma yawned and tried to play it off. You always saw through his bullshit.

“Hey, let’s go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You said, and Tenma didn’t know if it was the sleepiness in him or not, but he said it anyways.

“I like you, so much.”

“I like you, too. Get some sleep, Ten.”

When you were the one who ended the call, Tenma let himself yell into his pillow. Yuki told him to shut up, as expected. That night, Tenma dreamt of calling you the next day, and every time after that.

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: It’s finally my birthday month and I am, once again, filling up the Konoha agenda. Today I offer you Konoha propaganda... Tomorrow? Konoha propaganda.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Coming Soon!)

ensemble. | konoha akinori

part 2 - poco a poco.

word count: 8618

warnings: MC’s brothers have a heavy... sister-complex; overworking

(n.) little by little

‘Help’ wasn’t an unfamiliar word for you. Helping other people with their homework (to none of their avails), helping your bandmates with lifting the appliances, etcetera, etcetera. Do as much as you can, was what your parents told you as a child, and that was what you did, regardless of who asked.

Therefore, it certainly piqued your interest that Suzuki Ume, captain of the school’s marching band, and the two managers of the Boys’ Volleyball Club had crept their way into the Light Music Club room to ask you for a favor.

“Ooh, a cheering song’s certainly a new genre,” you piped up. “I used to try and convince my club members to switch to another style, but they’re too quick to reject me, y’know? PARANOIA as an idol group wouldn’t be so bad~”

The thought of the ever-stoic Mizushima Reo wearing a frilly idol costume had the Marching Band Club captain stifling a snort. “It would definitely be a sight...”

“I think we can all agree that when it comes to composing music and lyrics, you’re our first choice,” Kaori piped up. “If we can get the message across, then it would be a solid form of motivation for the team—or Bokuto at least, especially with the qualifying tournaments coming up.”

“Plus, Konoha would love it if you made a song for him, no?” Yukie followed, her languid gaze trailing up to your smiling face.

You’d nearly forgotten that Akinori belonged with the Volleyball Club. You were third-years now, both in the last moments of your high school youth. The teachers had started counselling for future prospects, your classmates had started worrying whether or not their current marks would bring them far in life, and as a whole, the third-years have begun to panic. You didn’t mind though—as long as you had your rock-hard conviction and your pragmatic boyfriend, you felt like you could do anything you wanted.

“Ah, I almost forgot that you and Konoha-kun were an item,” Ume said, her eyes twinkling. “So, how’s it? Have you two kissed yet?”

Faking a pout, you crossed your arms in mock offense, “Very scandalous, Umecchi. My virgin lips aren’t ready to be taken away yet, you know...”

“Kidding, kidding~ so, Y/N-san, would you like to do the honors of composing the Fukurodani Volleyball Club anthem for us?”

“No thank you!” you chirped, smiling earnestly.

The faces of your three guests fell.

Seeing their distressed expressions, you laughed, “I was just messing with you~ You guys are too serious. Sure, I’ll make the song. It’ll be fun, right?”

Kaori cleared her throat, reaching into her pocket to hand you a scrap of folded paper. “R-right... Anyway, here’s some ideas we collected to get you started. I’ve also written our numbers at the bottom, if you have any questions.”

“Though something tells me you already have them,” the droopy-eyed manager grinned.

Chuckling, your eyes flitted through the daintily-written notes and doodles scrawled all over the paper, “Yep. These notes are good. I’ll report back to you when I finish my final draft.”

“That’ll be great,” Ume sighed in relief. “But don’t work yourself restless, alright? Mizushima-san told me you’re those types of people who don’t stop until they get it done. We’re all third-years now, so we’ll be happy to lend a hand.”

“Of course,” was the answer you said to them, because it was the right answer. The moral answer. Instead of the more worrying: It’s fine, I might pass out from working too hard, but at least I’ll finish the job.

As the three “left the song in your care”, you escorted them back to the third-year hallways while replaying their entire conversation with you in your head. Oh, they were certainly a curious trio, walking into the lion’s den naked. But from all the curious things they’ve told you, one resounded loudly in your memory.

“Have you two kissed yet?”

Somberly laughing to yourself, you thought that, ah, that might be trouble.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori’s ears were threatening to fall off their places from the two-hour long lecture about the Tokugawa shogunate. Whose grand idea was it anyway to put Japanese History as last period? He was ready to melt into a weary puddle right on the school’s entrance, but you, on the other hand, seemed even more chipper than usual.

“Geez, what’s up with all the extra energy? You’re like Bokuto...” he groaned. “Didn’t you have Modern Literature as your last subject?”

“Yep, but I’m not allowed to get tired now!” you laughed, exuberantly slapping his back to get him out of his slump. “We’ve got no club activities today, right? Let’s go to that new cafe in Shinjuku, just to get your energy back~”

“Mm... parfait would be nice. But why are you so particularly tireless now?”

“Ooh, I’ve got a new job to do,” you said while grinning impishly. “The marching band and the Volleyball Club asked me this morning.”

Smiling sympathetically, Akinori ruffled your hair. A force of habit. “Bokuto didn’t ask you to do anything weird, right?”

You shook your head, as you paused to stop in the middle of the courtyard to look at him properly. “Your managers asked me. Yuki-chan and Kaorin. They want me to make a cheering song for you for the qualifying tournaments.”

“Whoa, seriously?” he exclaimed, exhaustion replaced with that of wonder. “That’s really cool, Y/N-chan! I can’t wait to see what you’re going to write.”

The blonde’s hand fell from the crown of your head to the slope of your shoulder, the comfort from his palm spreading into your chest. Under the light of the afternoon sun, Akinori seemed much warmer in person. You wondered if you could do that thing Ume was pestering you about earlier. Leaning towards him, a million thoughts whizzed in your head, but you paid them no attention, because as soon as your eyes fluttered close—

HONK! HONK!

“Y/N-chaaaan!”

Lips falling flat, your features darkened. “No way... No way. No way. What the hell is he doing here?”

“Y/N-chan! It’s meee! I’ve come to pick you up~” the man waving by the taxi persistently yelled from you at the gates of the school, attracting the whispers and giggles of passing students.

Concern scrawled all over his face, your boyfriend turned to you, “Y/N-chan... W-who is that?”

“It’s that crazy person again...”

“Crazy person?!”

Grabbing his hand, you tried to ignore the shameless calls from the grown taxi driver who was simply too relentless. “Never mind that. Aki-chan, you can run, right? Let’s run right now. Don’t turn back, okay?”

And without warning, you dragged your boyfriend around a sharp corner, your legs pedaling as much as your glutes could handle. Akinori wished you’d stop and explain everything to him, but if you seemed to be so desperate as to avoid this certain taxi driver, then you probably had a good reason for it.

As much as he’d hoped he didn’t, curiosity overtook the boy and he did the one simple thing, you’d pleaded him not to do. Akinori turned back, and was met with a pair of sinister eyes that swam with murderous intent.

“Y/N-chan, he’s chasing us! Why is he chasing us?! And why is he so fast?!” he cried, the impending fear of the incoming taxi driver feeding adrenaline into his legs.

“This guy was a yankii* in high school. An A-grade delinquent. If he’s fast, then we just have to run faster!”

Did things always have to go so unexpectedly with you? Why couldn’t the two of you just sit down and make plans for the day, like a normal couple? Akinori figured you were lacking of “normal”, but to be chased by a former delinquent through a sidewalk was straight up terrifying—he didn’t even get to decide on what sort of will he was going to write!

“Y/N-chaaan! It’s me, Wataru-nii-chan!” your pursuer wailed from behind you. “Don’t you recognize me?! Is it the mullet?”

Wataru-nii-chan?! Konoha repeated in his mind.

Growling, you roared back at the man. “Go home, Aniki*! I can go back on my own, so stop chasing us before someone calls the police!”

Oh god, Akinori definitely didn’t expect his first encounter with one of your three older brothers to be like this. So much for a good first impression... But it was moderately your fault that you tended to avoid the subject whenever it was brought up. The only thing he’d ever recalled from your descriptions of them was that “they’re all annoying” and that they had all moved out from Tokyo to live elsewhere.

“Not until you let me drive you home!” your brother stubbornly shot back.

You were getting tired now. Running around in circles through the school district. If this race was a way to prove that you had graduated from the mere role of the “baby sister”, then so be it.

Though if it had been any other brother of yours chasing you down the streets, you would’ve been luckier. But this was Wataru for god’s sake. The second child. The idiot whose impulse transcended logic in every way possible—and the worst person to challenge to a foot race.

“Fine!” you groaned, nearly stumbling over your feet as your boyfriend pulled you from your fatigue. Hands slipping on the curve of your knees, you glared at your brother from the low angle. “I’ll go home with you this once. Then you’ll stop coming to my school.”

Ruffling your hair, he grinned, “I knew you’ll come through for your big bro.”

“...Whatever, let’s just go,” you muttered, shying away from the older man’s touch. Looking back at your visibly concerned yet confused boyfriend, you gave him a shrug and weakly waved goodbye as you trailed behind Wataru to his taxi.

Damn, that was way too scary, Akinori breathed. His stomach rumbling, he wondered if he still should stop by that cafe you’d talked about earlier. Probably not.

Resting your chin on the sill of the taxi window, you sighed loudly, enough to catch the attention of your brother on the rearview mirror. Wataru smiled brightly, driving you away from the landscape of Fukurodani Academy.

“Was that your boyfriend with you? That ‘Aki-chan’ Mom and Dad keeps talking about?”

“Bingo,” you retorted plainly, hoping that he’d stop trying to make small talk.

“By the way, I heard there’s a new cafe that just opened up in Shinjuku,” Wataru said, the mention somewhat a déjà vu. “You want to stop by and grab some parfaits?”

Frowning at your own reflection on the glass, you grumbled, “It’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

What the hell is this, you cursed.

Like they just coincidentally planned to ruin your day, all three of your older brothers—who had mentioned to you that they were going to spend their break at their workplaces—were sitting jovially at your family dining table, as if none of this was a shock.

“Isn’t it a lovely surprise, Y/N?” your mother beamed, scooping a larger spoonful of rice onto your oldest brother’s bowl. “They didn’t even tell us they were coming to visit!”

Of course not, you scowled. If there was one thing you and your brothers had in common was that it was the annoying habit of doing things unexpectedly and expecting the second party to live with it. You wondered if this was what Akinori had felt the day you approached him.

“Y/N-chan’s gotten so big. I wonder if she can still fit on my lap like she used to,” Kensuke, the oldest, cooed, gazing at you with glassy eyes. “You want to sit on Ken-nii-chan’s lap, Y/N-chan? I’ll feed you too if you’d like~”

“No thank you,” you growled through gritted teeth and broccoli.

The third brother Masao chuckled while ruffling your hair endearingly, “Now, now, Y/N-chan. Of course Kensuke’s going to point out that you’ve grown bigger, he’s a pediatrician after all. If you don’t want to be fed by him, how about Masa-nii-chan, eh?”

Pushing your quarter-empty meal to the center of the table, you turned your face away from the college senior’s nostalgic “beef stew airplane”. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“You usually eat things up like it’s nothing. Are you ill? A rebellious phase?” Kensuke muttered, leaning back on his chair to closely observe your darkening mood. “No, it’s something more... Could it be—is it your boyfriend?”

“Or that band of yours, maybe? I can’t believe you’re still in it, you know you can’t get very far with music, right?” Masao sneered, gulping down his glass of water. “All of your friends remind me a lot of Wataru when he was still a high school hooligan.”

Showing no signs of appreciation for the comment, your second brother winked at you from across the table. “Speaking of your boyfriend, I met him today when I picked you up, didn’t I?”

The mention of your ‘infamous’ boyfriend turned the heads of the entire dinner table—you weren’t so sure why your parents looked so surprised as well, you supposed it was just genetics.

“Really? What was he like? I can definitely tell he’s one of those skinny ones.”

“You bet. I was more curious about his hair though...”

“Is it dyed or is it a natural shade?”

“It was too dark to tell, maybe when I encounter him again, I’ll take a small snip of his hair to show everyone~”

Kensuke, who in your memory didn’t fare well with news of any boy approaching a 1-metre radius of you, darkly smiled behind the shade of his spectacles. He hadn’t said anything in response to Wataru’s report, and that itself terrified you to bits.

“Ooh, you’re still with him, Y/N-chan?” at his sappy call of your name, your stomach tightened. The table fell silent at the mercy of the oldest child. “That’s new. You usually get bored of something or someone after a few months or so... Are you sure it’s not much of a burden for you? You’re a third-year too, after all... You shouldn’t take relationships for granted~”

If Wataru was a knuckleheaded ogre and Masao was a devious fox, then Kensuke was definitely the demon to rule them all. It was in their nature, whether they realized it or not; they always made you seem pathetic so that they could take the chance to dote and care for you like they wished for.

“Dinner was delicious,” you blurted out, standing up from your chair abruptly that the tableware shook and clattered. “I’m going to my room.”

Watching you slam the bedroom door, Kensuke shouted after you, “Ehh... You’re not going to tell us about you and your boyfriend? We’re curious!”

You let your brothers’ voices fade out into white noise as you collapsed face-down onto your bed. You hoped that this visit wasn’t going to last long, otherwise, you’d be pulling out every hair from your head until you went bald.

Unfolding the scrap of notes your three patrons had previously collected for you, a weak smile cracked through your face. Don’t mind them, Y/N-chan, you thought as you got up to place your beloved guitar on your lap. Let’s get to work.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori swore your face was so sour, he tasted lemons in his mouth.

You looked like you didn’t sleep for days. You, who had always brimmed with energy, were quietly cursing your brothers as you ate lunch. Added to your rather beautiful profile, you looked like an phantom waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim.

“So, how was your consultation with Yamanouchi-sensei about your future plans?” he cleared his throat, hoping that he could slowly pick away the frosty wall between you.

You only frowned deeper—so deep that your eyebrows were almost parallel. “Future plans... Do I have to decide everything now? My life is only this wonderful because I don’t plan anything. I could be busking in the streets with Reo, Iori-kun and MugiMugi ten years from now and I’d be perfectly fine.”

Akinori laughed. That ‘plan’ definitely smelled very strongly of you.

“What about you?” you nudged his elbow with the side of your chopsticks. “What do you want to be doing in the future, Aki-chan?”

“Hmm... I’ll definitely go to college—otherwise my mom’s brains will leak out of her ears if I don’t. After that, I’m considering setting up a business on my own, maybe in Meguro where it’s a bit cheaper than Ginza or Roppongi. It’d be nice to be your own boss, don’t you think?”

You smiled weakly and nodded. How annoying. Just as you were liberated from your isolation just a year ago, you felt like you were already seeping back into loneliness once more. Everyone had a plan after high school.

Akinori was going to be an ambitious conglomerate with the number one business in Meguro. Gorilla-faced gentle Reo was finally going to set up that ramen shop he’d been dreaming of. Iori, a rebel to mankind and jaywalking laws, was going to “hell with everything” and enter a prestigious art school. And young Tsumugi... well, whatever a sales operator was, you wished him all the best as a good senpai would do.

And thus, you were stuck again. As the prodigy L/N Y/N who could do everything... but could never decide on anything.

“It’s my brothers’ fault I was so sleepy when I filled in that form. They were disturbing my peace of mind and so I got scolded by Yamanouchi-sensei for it,” you reasoned.

“Is that why you look so tired?”

“No, that’s not it,” you sighed, replacing the lid on your emptied bento. “I spent all night finishing up most of the cheering song’s melody.”

Akinori nearly choked on his strawberry milk. “That much already?! Y/N-chan, the tournament isn’t until a week away! Geez, think about yourself more, won’t you? What would you do if you fell sick and collapsed?”

Getting up to pat away the dust resting on your skirt, you gave your boyfriend a cheeky smile. “Then you’ll just have to take care of me until I get better.”

“Ah... You’ll only ask me to do weird stuff. Why can’t your brother do it? Isn’t he a doctor?”

You curtly gave him an unappreciative pout, masking your obvious mirth. “C’mon~ I’m your girlfriend. You’re going to need a punishment for saying that, Aki-chan. Come now, don’t cover up your sides, I’m going to have to tickle you good—!”

Though you were laughing, you were a mess. More than usual, Akinori thought. It was disturbing enough that his first impression of your older siblings was nightmarish at best, but he wondered if your coping methods could’ve been more... amiable. What would he do if you really fell sick and collapsed? Would your brothers even let him visit especially with their overbearing sense of vigilance?

From your little grumbling, it really did seem like they didn’t like him. Or, really, the concept of him. As much as Akinori appreciated your solace, it would be troublesome if they’d thought he was trying to influence you to despising your family. Some sort of soap opera this is.

At least you were smiling now. He thought. And that was all that mattered in that moment, because he knew things were about to go awry one way or another.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Y/N-san... I think my ears just ascended to second heaven.”

In the expanse of the Marching Band Club room, Suzuki Ume had her hands clasped together, a content expression resting idly on her face. And it really did look like she’d died happy.

“Right~?” you grinned, setting down Lennon-chan next to the blackboard. “The melody really gets you pumped up, doesn’t it? Especially when it’ll be played by all the trumpets and percussions... I think even I’ll start feeling the adrenaline.”

Brandishing the handwritten sheet music in her hands, Ume smiled at you endearingly. “This song is perfect, Y/N-san. And I’m sure your lyrics will only make it better. If I may propose...”

Repeating the word she’d trailed off, you felt an even bigger smile cracking through the slits of your pearly teeth.

“It would be great if you were there to lead the song for us. That is, only if you agree! I’ve already discussed it with the PTA and the principal and they’re all on board with the idea.”

The room grew still, and the captain spoke again.

“I’m sure Konoha-kun will be excited if you were there cheering for him on... maybe you’ll finally get one of those romantic after-game kisses with him~”

Ume never recalled a moment where you ever blushed. But to see Fukurodani’s infamous “alien” genius so flustered—red from head to toe—was a victory no one could ever seldom. Who could blame you? When thoughts of your untouched lips being swept away by your guileful boyfriend in an enclosed space, so close yet so far from prying eyes were buzzing in your head... Geez, now you really wanted a kiss.

“I’ll lead the song for you—b-but not because I want my boyfriend to do... that!” you quickly reasoned, the red on your face turning darker. “Aki-chan gets all sweaty after a game and being kissed in that condition is gross! Public displays of affection are also pervy, aren’t they? R-right?”

Hoho, Ume giggled. So the Iron Maiden is this type of tsundere~

“Umecchi. That amused look on your face, please erase it.”

It took Suzuki Ume her entire fist in her mouth to pacify her approaching laughter. But eventually, she’d jovially apologized for teasing you, alleviating the pout resting on your face. Reviewing her ideas for the lyrics once more, you drew the conclusion that a) you were still going to have to examine the Volleyball Club first-hand for inspiration and b) writing lyrics for a cheering song was going to be harder than you’d expected. You, who had been used to your own hostile verses in PARANOIA’s songs, were going to have to be forced to avoid the usual... “dirty scums” business.

You were beginning to regret taking the offer, but quickly waved away the thought, thinking that you were starting to sound like your boyfriend. Exiting the Marching Band club room, you pondered on a proper time to visit the Volleyball Club for research. They had today off. Tomorrow, maybe? No, Akinori would complain that you were working too hard—

“Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your forehead from the sudden impact from the wall—Wait, you squinted. There was never a wall here.

And when a pair of arms wrapped around you as a constrictor so eager to devour, all answers were revealed. “Y/N-chaaan! It’s so nice to see you! Aaah, Masa-nii-chan was starting to wonder where you were, you know? Kyuu~”

Scuffling against the third brother’s vice-like embrace, you hissed. “Aniki, let go! You’ll damage my guitar! What are you doing here?! Who in hell would let you in?”

Gently setting you down, Masao watched you with a reprimanding look on his face, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“How cruel of you to say, Y/N-chan. I’m only here to check on my alma mater...” he sulked, focus zeroing in on the piece of paper in your hand. “What’s that? Can I see?”

Before you could express your dissent, Masao had already lunged behind you, snatching the paper into his hands. Reaching for the large wall with your dwarfen arms, you let out a shrill wheeze as his eyes started to skim over the paper and his expression dropped to a million feet.

“Give it back, Aniki!”

“You’re still doing this music thing? Geez, did you even listen to what I said during that one dinner?” he scoffed, turning his back to you to further deride your struggle. “‘You won’t get very far with music’. I bet these scrubs aren’t even paying you.”

Taking up all the strength in your legs, you craned against Masao as much as possible and retrieved the sheet with a disapproving crackle. “I’m not capitalistic like you. And yes, I am still doing this ‘music thing’, but no matter how far I’ll go...”

You paused, drinking in the grave look on your brother’s face.

“I’ll always have people to support me, Aniki.”

At the spur of the moment, like your ancestors were trying to curse you for speaking of the devil, a familiar call of your name had the both of you turning your heads. A mop of blonde and a pair of simple dark eyes that did not match the scene that was playing out before him.

What was Akinori doing here? Why would he call for you seeing that this obnoxious adult was here?! Run away, you begged with your gaze, but the fear that rooted your boyfriend was unrelentingly profuse. No! Don’t succumb!

“Ah! Y/N-chan’s brother!” he bowed, an angle so sharp he almost snapped a muscle. “It’s nice to finally meet you... S-sir.”

“Sir?” Masao drawled, the question pumping acid into the atmosphere. “I’m not even that old yet.”

Despite being younger than the first brother he’d encountered, there was no doubt that this one was more terrifying than the last. At least to your boyfriend he was. Masao, more attractive-looking than Wataru, had a carbon copy of your steely gaze. “He’s a fox! A wily fox who’ll get you to assume things without meaning to!” you’d told him a few days prior, annoyance burning in your tone.

As Masao opened his mouth to speak again, Akinori could only gulp. “You’re much taller than I expected. You’re a regular in the volleyball club, right, Aki-chan?”

“R-right,” he responded. God, now he knew why his term of endearment only sounded right when it came from you.

Circling your boyfriend like a famished vulture, Masao studied him from the tips of his hair to the toes of his shoes.  “So stiff~ I would’ve mistaken you for my little sister’s guitar if you weren’t so...” he smiled warmly at the boy, then hissed.

“... Alive.”

Akinori suddenly realized what you meant by him being such a “fox demon”—he supposed you were just trying to remind him of a folk tale that time, you said yourself that whatever you said shouldn’t be taken too much to the heart. Gulping at the imposing brute of the man, your boyfriend made a mental note to listen closely to your fanciful ramblings the next time he wanted to stay “alive”. For good riddance.

Laughing raucously at his expression, Masao slapped his shoulders, worthy of the ossan* at the nearby ramen shop. “I was just messing with you! Geez, you don’t have to take me so seriously~ You’re just like Y/N-chan but less cuter! Damn, exactly the type of guy Kensuke-nii would love and hate at the same time! Hey, tell me, have you two kissed yet? I can tell that my little Y/N-chan would enjoy that kind of stuff. She is the hopeless romantic after all~”

“K-kiss?!”

At the mention of the accursed ‘activity’, you decided that it was time to finally interfere. Fitting yourself in between your paralysed boyfriend and your brother, you spread out your arms in a sign of mock annoyance. Eyes blazing as bright as your face, you begged Masao one last time.

“That’s enough getting to know each other, right, Aniki?” you said, urging him away from the stricken third year. “If you’re really here to look around the school, then you should hurry and go already. I’ll take you to the staircase, come on.”

Casually lounging an arm over your shoulders, your brother bent down towards your ear, “He’s not so bad. I like him.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you’re saying that just to win me over—”

“Geez, would you stop getting all wary with me? I’m not.” Masao muttered. The mischievous glint in his eyes disappeared just as gravity replaced it. “Your Aki-chan seems like a good kid. Not my type, just so you know. But if you care about him that much as to protect the guy from both me and Wataru, then he’s really something, huh? I’m still not in favor of your entire music future ordeal, but if that Konoha guy is your ‘support’, then I’ll rest easy knowing he’s got your back.”

There was another one of those uncomfortable pauses you hated again. Your brothers never lied; it was one of those characteristics that made your family prone to bluntness over everything else. Nevertheless, there was a sense of lightness in your chest after hearing your brother’s approval. You supposed that even if Masao was the slyest sibling known to man, he was indefinitely more tolerable than... Creepy Siscon Kensuke or Stubborn Belittling Wataru.

“Are you going to tell Kensuke and Wataru about this?”

Eyeing your concern, Masao tilted his head. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, nodding at your brother from atop the staircase, “... Masa-nii-chan.”

The face Masao was enough for you to scrunch up in disgust and regret whatever you just said. “H-Haa... Y-you finally called me Masa-nii-chan again... I’m so happy. So, so happy. W-will you give me a hug, Y/N-chan?”

“No way. Calling you that again was embarrassing enough, Aniki.”

“Not Aniki! Call me Masa-nii-chan! Once more!”

Shaking your head petulantly, you laughed at your brother’s woes leaving him to continue with a tour of his alma mater (unaccompanied by the hug he so desired). You returned to your lingering boyfriend with ease in your heart and found him just as stricken as you had left him.

“He’s gone now, you don’t have to look so tense,” you poked at his rigid expression.

“Your other brother he mentioned...” Akinori bit his lip. “Would he really hate me?”

You let out a breath.

“I can’t say he won’t, but Masao also said he’d love you, right? Don’t worry about it,” you grinned, looping your arm around his to drag him through the third year hallways. “When he’s being serious, you can trust that guy with his words.”

“Even the ones about how you’d enjoy being kissed?”

The spring freezing in your step, you stared at your boyfriend incredulously. Dawning on Akinori’s face was a look of absolute triumph and illuminated by the shadows of the midday sun, it was like you were at an impasse. It was near unheard of, that this was the same boy who’d you manhandled last year to get his feelings straight! And now, he was using that subliminal charm of his—the one you’d developed—in addition to that godforsaken attractive smirk to ensnare you.

What’s up with that, you thought. A mix of sheer arousal, fear and pride pooling in your hammering heart. I created a monster.

“... Except for those words,” you gritted, trying to keep your footing steady with the way Akinori was leaning closer to your body.

He chuckled lowly. “Eeh, we haven’t even kissed yet. Do you actually have experience in this sort of thing?”

You turned to the large windows lining the walls, hoping that you’d play off your deepening blush. “Of course not. And don’t say it like you have any either! If I’d dated someone who’s already had their first kiss... that would be weird on my side.”

Ruffling your hair while laughing heartily, Akinori let his eyes trail towards the outline of your face. You were beautiful, that was obvious. But in a private moment just like this, just you and him, you always seemed like you were glowing. Your curious eyes—overflowing with mischief and mysteries that he swore to uncover with time. Your cheeks, warm against his fingers and always dusted with a faint red whenever he was around. And your lips. Untouched, unkissed. A plump pair he’d only dreamed of wrapping his own around.

Tracing the pads of his fingers on the contours of your lips, charting etches of himself upon it, Akinori wondered what it would feel like. To kiss you. Would you truly enjoy it, like your brother had said?

“Aki-chan...?” your voice. So delicate and seductive; his name came out of your mouth like amber honey dripping on his hand. It was funny, to be so in love with you. Even after moments where he’d regretted he hadn’t.

It didn’t occur to him how his face was already gravitating towards you. Maybe you weren’t just an alien, maybe L/N Y/N was an entire extraterrestrial planet with a pulling force of its own.

And Konoha Akinori would be the first man to set foot on it.

“W-Whoa! Sorry ‘bout that! Am I interrupting something private, Taichou*?”

Setting foot, Akinori thought of registering himself into a mental ward for thinking of such an uncharacteristic analogy. Watching you wave giddily at the prowler who just happened to be your bandmate Iori, he sighed. I just got hit by an entire meteoroid.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

You considered buying yourself a good-luck charm from the nearby shrine. The feeling of being overwhelmed... was something you could never get used to. It was rare for you to feel so swamped, taking into account how you prided yourself over being able to get things done at lightning speed. But the song, college entrance exams, your brothers, your band and... that interrupted chance of a kiss. Everything simply took its chance to slip itself into your head all at once.

And it didn’t help at all that Kensuke had found out about your lazily answered Future Plans form that you had stupidly left lying around on your bedroom desk... under that? The lyrics to the cheering song.

“If you’re going to take your future so lightly, then you’re better off not going to that volleyball match,” he’d said to you coolly, a reflection of your seething face bouncing off his glasses. “Is this why you’ve been up all night on your guitar?”

“It was my choice,” you’d told him repeatedly.

“What uncharacteristic choices!” Kensuke had gasped mockingly, crossing his arms. “I’m simply worried about my cute little sister. What if those choices lead you to your doom? Your future, your band... that boyfriend of yours.”

He had paused to ruffle your hair, in which you’d barely managed to duck away from.

“Why don’t you just give all that up and let your big brothers take care of you, okay, Y/N-chan?”

Of course, you had only scoffed in reply and pretended like you didn’t hear him, but you weren’t going to show Kensuke that his words were actually bothering you, were you?

At the current hour, your brothers didn’t matter. As long as you finished the lyrics, everything would be fine. It’ll be fine, you said to yourself. Your long week of juggling through school, visiting the gym for lyrical inspiration, appointments with teachers, your club, clients and boyfriend, all while avoiding your brothers’ nosy interventions had begun. And there was no more back-pedaling on anything.

On the bright side, the marching band was progressing amicably with practicing the melody with you. You decided that Ume, still inquisitive about the passage of your relationship, wasn’t their captain for nothing. Hence, it would only be fair that you also gave your all during your practices—whether or not you finally felt weary in any parts of your body didn’t matter.

And ultimately, the utmost crescendo of the entire week had finally dawned you. You finished. You finished the lyrics! The song! Just about 3 days before the tournament and you had excitedly jotted down the final lines of the cheer. It was flawless in your mind and you comically considered switching over PARANOIA’s theme into something more flamboyant.

Just as a storm had come, the gods had blessed you with a stroke of good fortune. Your week had finally turned around for the better. The rehearsals, the feeling of a pick between your fingers, the swelling intimacy between you and Akinori. Your future even seemed clearer in your head. The tournament was only two days away and you felt like steel. Nothing could stop you. Nothing—

“39 degrees.”

“H-huh...?”

“You’re sick, Y/N-chan,” Kensuke sighed taking a seat on the stool next to your bed, the thermometer between his fingers flashing the two digits you never once fathomed to unite. “Mom and Dad have called your school and told them you won’t be attending class today.”

Nothing, but a 39-degree fever that made your legs buckle every step you took.

“I can’t be sick!” you suddenly cried out, only to be thrown aback by your own string of coughs. You rasped again, your legs weakly reaching out to the floor, looking for your slippers. “T-The tournament is tomorrow and I have to be there to lead the supporters—!”

As your toes kissed the surface of the hardwood, your knees caved away, crumpling and collapsing you forwards into the anticipating embrace of your three brothers. Cringing, you couldn’t help but to melt away into their warmth. You were cold. So, so cold. And all you wanted to do was wither away.

“Oi, oi! Think about your health first,” Wataru scolded, easing you back down against your plush pillows. “39 degrees won’t just go away like that, y’know? Worst-case scenario is that you won’t feel better until Sunday.”

Bundling your blankets over your shivering form, Masao nodded. “Wataru’s right. We’re sorry, Y/N-chan, but I don’t think you can go to the tourney tomorrow with your current condition.”

With a gentle stroke of his fingers on your sweat-slicked hair, Kensuke was already putting you into a trance that made your eyelids go heavy. “It’s cold, isn’t it? You poor, poor thing... It’ll be alright, Y/N-chan. Doctor Ken-nii-chan is going to take proper care of you~”

And those were the least reassuring words you’d ever heard in your life before you yielded to slumber.

“Y-Y/N-chan, are you alright?!” your boyfriend’s voice blared through your phone. It was already evening, and you didn’t catch how many hours you’d been out like a light until you stirred awake to the ringing of your cell phone. “I didn’t see you all day so I asked Tsuyoshi-san and he said you were down with a fever! Should I visit and bring you some food? W-what do you want? Some miso soup or chicken stock?”

“No, it’s fine,” you wheezed out softly. “You don’t have to come.”

“W-why not?” Akinori murmured, the torment in his voice seeping through your speakers. “You said yourself that if you ever collapsed and fell sick, I’ll be there to take care of you, right? I want to take care of you now, even if you make me do weird things. So, please—”

“Akinori.” You sternly hissed. What were you going to tell him? That he couldn’t come because your iron-willed brother slash doctor was guarding your door like a dog? You didn’t even want to know what Kensuke would do to your boyfriend if he came over. “Don’t. Come. I don’t want you to catch my fever. The match is tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“If you love me, don’t visit. Thanks for the concern,” you said flatly and quickly hung up before he could say anything else to pull at your heartstrings. God, you really felt like a loser. Maybe your brothers weren’t so wrong about the ‘weak little sister’ business...

A knock on the door, and the devil had answered to your thoughts. “Hello~? I’m coming in, Y/N-chan. Are you awake? I’ve got your medicine.”

Heat flooding your brain, you were already frustrated enough about the entire ordeal, and your brother’s face was the last thing you wanted to see right now. Turning around to face the wall, you buried yourself into your blankets as the sound of an opening door and a tray being set down filled the room.

“I know you’re awake,” though you couldn’t see him, you were sure Kensuke was grinning playfully behind you. “Turn around so Ken-nii-chan can give you your medicine.”

“I can do it myself, Aniki,” you grumbled from within your cocoon of warmth.

“Not with those shaky hands you’re not,” he said as-a-matter-of-factly. Growling lowly, you shifted beneath the sheets and locked gazes with your smiling brother. Eyeing his every movement as he poured the dark syrup onto a spoon (because who knows what kind of shady things he might put into it!), you rustled.

“Why are you doing this?”

Replacing the cap onto the bottle, the eldest brother’s face broke into a grin. “Because I’m both your brother and a pediatrician. So isn’t it my responsibility to do this sort of stuff? Ah, open wide~”

You quickly enveloped your mouth around the spoon, downing its contents. Your face scrunched repulsively at the artificial tang. Sour. “I suppose it’s your responsibility to make my life a living hell too?”

“That’s a good girl, Y/N-chan. Sorry it’s lemon,” he said, setting down the spoon on your bedside table before turning to you again. “I just want what’s best for you. My little Y/N-chan is different from those other good-for-nothing kids, right? It’s a big world out there and we don’t want you to suffer.”

“Would you stop treating me like a child?” you scowled, hot air spewing out from your nose. “What’s up with you three and doing that? I can function perfectly fine on my own. I’m a third year in high school. It’s so annoying that I could almost hate you. And this is all because you never want to listen to me!”

As the both of you immersed in the deadly silence, you took the time to ogle at your brother’s contorted expression.

Kensuke leaned back on his chair, eyes widened with surprise. “’L-listen’... Y/N-chan, of course we want to listen to you. I-is that not what we’ve been doing the whole time?”

“Listening isn’t the same thing as assuming what I want, Aniki. All you guys do is pile up expectations about the fantasy Y/N living inside your head, and it’s been on my mind the entire week,” you murmured, face growing redder. Though that was just the fever. You were sure of it. “I can’t be the little Y/N-chan I used to be. She’s gone. I’m me now, and the choices I make are the results of my own changes. The choices about what I do, love—”

You took one good, satisfying look at Kensuke’s face, before continuing your sermon. “—and my future. No matter how stupid it looks to you.”

“Oh, Y/N-chan...” he sobbed, striking you dumb top to bottom. Kensuke was crying. Your brother was crying, but what for? Did he catch your fever? God, being sick really did a number on people.

“We didn’t—I didn’t mean to make you feel that way! I was just scared. It was so scary to see you grow up so fast into an adult... then what next? You’ll forget us. You even said you hated me! O-oh God, I’m turning into an overbearing person... I want to commit seppuku*, I’m so sorry...”

Seppuku—Wait, this was your brother you’re talking about here. And with his degree of regret and brashness... he just might do it. How dramatic, you thought, a chuckle threatening to escape your throat.

“Geez, don’t commit seppuku, Aniki,” you sat up on your bed, handing him the pack of tissues next to your pillow. “I said I could almost hate you. But I can’t possibly do that—you’re my brother, right? Even though you three drive me crazy, to fully despise the people who care for you... That’s unfair, isn’t it? Come on, Doctor, don’t cry in front of your patients~”

Blowing his nose loudly into a tissue, he sniffed. “You must really like this guy, huh?”

You made a noise between confusion and shock.

“The old Y/N-chan wouldn’t go so far for anything if it didn’t really interest you... I was worried that he was taking advantage of you or something, to the point where you worked yourself sick. But I couldn’t help but to overhear your phone call from outside and I was relieved that it wasn’t the case.”

You leaned your head on your knees and sighed. “Of course not. Aki-chan is sweet and caring and he knows exactly how to come up with the perfect responses to my weird antics. He used to take advantage of me, and I used to take advantage of him. But that was a long time ago. He made me realize that I didn’t have to understand everything before I felt happy about anything.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Very. Aki-chan, my band, making this song for the tournament... it all makes me happy, and nothing could be better.”

The air was thick, and Kensuke took it as his cue to leave. Giving you one last smile at the doorframe after he’d flicked the lights off, you felt relief dulling your muscles.

“If you get better by tomorrow, I-I’ll try to figure out a way to get you to that gymnasium,” he said. A promise you knew he was bound to keep. “Your boyfriend is a good person, and I’d hate for him to go through such a grueling match without your support.”

“Ken-nii-chan?” God, it was embarrassing for you to say it, but you were thankful that you were clouded with darkness. “Thanks for listening.”

“G-get some rest, Y/N-chan. Good night.” A shut of a door and muffled crying through the walls.

Good night. You said to yourself and the comforts of your empty room.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Has anyone seen Y/N-san?” Suzuke Ume, frantic captain of the Marching Band, scurried through the throngs of students, parents and teachers.

“I don’t think she got on one of the PTA buses either,” Yukie craned her neck upwards to get a better view of the audience. “Did she forget about it?”

“No way! This is Y/N-san we’re talking about. The day she forgets is the day the world collapses in on itself,” Ume gritted. “Gosh, I have to get the marching band ready and everything...”

Down below, on the polished hardwood court, the boys of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club were raving on their own as usual.

“Hey, what’s Suzuki-chan freaking out about? You think everything’s okay?” Komi whispered to the unstirring wing spiker. “Yo, Konoha, you good, man?”

Akinori said nothing. The world seemed so quiet, not even Bokuto’s early-morning racket could shake him out of it. The gymnasium held out like an empty shell to him. Was the world always so silent whenever you weren’t around? What a desolate world he lived in before you.

Lumping a sinewy arm over his shoulder, Bokuto pointed out. “Where’s Y/N-chan? She’s not coming? I heard she was going to lead the crowd.”

“She’s sick,” he finally mouthed, shrugging Bokuto off his back. “She didn’t come to school either yesterday. I’m just worried about her, ‘s all.”

At his words, Komi frantically leapt towards him. “Sick?! The Great Deity is sick? Did you visit her yesterday? How is she?”

“Y/N-chan... didn’t let me visit,” Akinori sighed. “I don’t know if I ticked her off or if she’s finally gotten bored of me... but she told me not to come even if I really really wanted to.”

As the sentence left his mouth, a shrill whistle resounded in the gymnasium, bouncing off the walls in a warning manner. That was that. The tournament you so hoped to attend the entire week, gone in a matter of seconds.

“Waaaait! Sorry I’m late!”

Like seagulls flocking to breadcrumbs, the entirety of the gym turned its head to the northwest entrance. Where a girl donned in a lopsided Fukurodani uniform and a guitar case strapped to her back looked like she just ran a marathon to get here.

Akinori’s face flushed away of its color, but he couldn’t help but to smile. Elegantly poised Ume nearly dropped her baton, and the entire crowd had their jaws scattered all over the floor.

“Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

Coach Yamiji on the sidelines snickered behind his wrinkled hands. This is going to be one interesting cheer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

There was a small corner in the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, hidden to the eyes, where janitors and staff alike sparsely came by. A little close to the bathrooms, but not too bad considering there was a fragrant lavender air freshener nocked there. And at this hour, it was the perfect time for—I don’t know—perhaps a curious couple to bask themselves in an after-game moment?

Cradling your face in his hands, Akinori scrutinized the little features on your skin, his breath heavy with concern. “Are you still sick? You’re a bit warm.”

Pushing his hands away, you tapped his chest lightly. “How romantic, Aki-chan. You drag your girlfriend away to a private space only to interrogate her. I’m fine, you know~”

“Your cheeks are completely red, you can’t fool me.” He returned his hands on your cheeks, squishing them together. You looked like strawberry mochi. Cute.

“T-That’s for an entirely different reason!” you cried out, averting your gaze. Your fingers curled around your quaint chrysanthemum necklace out of instinct. “I’m really fine. My brother, the doctor, drove me here with Wataru’s taxi. And we both know he wouldn’t be the type of person to let me out of the house if I wasn’t well. And guess what? I think my brothers have finally come to accept you~!”

Sighing, he rested his forehead on your shoulder, hiding his face in your neck. “You’re troublesome, L/N Y/N. You’re lucky the cheering song was so good that we won those first few matches by a landslide. Otherwise, I would be fully scolding you right now.”

“Hehehe~ Congrats for the win.” Tilting your head against his, you let out a soft hum. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Aki-chan. What should I do for you to forgive me?”

Raising his neck to level to yours, Akinori propped his temple up against yours and spoke to you in a husky tone that made you feel feverish again.

“No one’s going to interrupt us, right?”

“Eh? I don’t think so, but what’re you doing so close—”

“Good.”

And with a soft clink of your matching necklaces bumping against each other in the vacant halls, Akinori had stolen your breath away like a phantom thief to a tower’s princess.

Warm, was the first thing he thought of at first contact. Maybe it was the residue of your night-long fight against a high fever. He might fall sick soon, but that wasn’t something to think about during a first kiss. The space between you was nearly spectral and Akinori’s beating heart was faint against your chest. It was fast, expectedly so. As his hands drifted to shyly wrap itself around the tendrils of your stray hairs, you sneakily nibbled his lower lip, erupting the bubbles of laughter from his throat.

“You smell like sweat,” you poked at his jersey, your cheeks burning up. “Don’t just do that without giving me a warning first.”

Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, Akinori eyed your slightly parted lips, a dash of his saliva molten upon it, “It’s payback for all the nuisances you’ve caused. So take responsibility, Y/N-chan.”

‘Responsibility’. The word seemed so foreign to you, but perhaps being liable wasn’t going to be such a bad thing—even if you were just freely riding the wave. Letting out a raucous laugh, you threw yourself against Akinori, taking as much responsibility as needed. Twice, thrice, and so on.

Bit by bit, the tailwinds of fate pointed north, and the right path for you never seemed clearer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

yankii - delinquent

aniki - ‘older brother’, but really slang-y (usually seen in pop culture yakuza scenes)

ossan - middle-aged man (an ‘uncle’ of sorts)

taichou - commander/leader

seppuku - japanese ritual of slitting the belly

[mysymestash]

RFA + Saeran w/ MC who has terrible allergies

Yoosung

He was so excited when you told him you were coming to visit him at work!

Freaking out though lowkey because this is the first time you’ve seen his workplace and he wants to make you proud

This boy cannot sit still he’s trying to make sure everything is perfect, taking pictures of all the cutest animals, etc..

His nervousness goes away pretty quickly as soon as he sees you talking with the front desk

You had brought him a homemade lunch wrapped up in a cute patterned handkerchief??? He really couldn’t handle it anymore and basically tackle hugged you

All that nervousness and panic comes flooding back tenfold as you start coughing and sneezing basically as soon as he makes contact

So confused, pulls away immediately to make sure you’re okay

When you tell him sheepishly that you’re actually allergic to cats and dogs, but you wanted to see him at work anyways

At a vets office

Yoosung: >:0 ????

He is mortified and drags you outside for you to get some air

Scolds you for putting your own health in jeopardy

Afterwards sits down with you and you two have lunch together

Shows you all the pictures he took,, the amount of cute animal selfies he sends you doubles the next week because he doesn’t want you to miss out just because of your allergies

Jumin

I think you know where this is going

The first time you stay overnight at his place you forget your allergy medication at home (figures)

Still determined to stay because you don’t want to ruin the night

You decide to just try and keep your distance from Elizabeth as much as you can

That is, until she walks up to you and nuzzles your hand and makes your heart go uwu

Your fate had been sealed as you could obviously not bring yourself to push her away

Jumin comes home to find you sitting in the corner sniffling, eyes red and puffy

Drops everything and rushes over to you (does that slide thing on your knees people do in movies,, dude is dramatic)

.2 seconds away from calling the police in his distress

You have to stop him and fess up to your cat allergy

Devastated

“The fact that you have been cursed to not be able to witness such a regal breed in person..it is truly a deep sadness. I will do everything in my power to bring the full light of Elizabeth III into your life.”

Rest In Peace Jaehee because this man is about to launch the largest campaign in C&R history to cure cat allergies

Even when you tell him it’s unnecessary, all you need is your medication

Good luck trying to stop him

Saeyoung

He had been in a funk™️ the past week or so

Felt really bad for having you feed him and basically just keep him alive during that time

So he’s going to make you lunch!

Or

More of a light snack

Because this boy does not know how to cook

PB&J sandwiches! A classic, everyone loves em

Even splurges a little from his HBC budget to get some marshmallow fluff in there

It’s all very cute,, and he brings you the plate plus a glass of milk

He’s got his proud and happy face on as you take a bite out of his creation

Until your face promptly starts swelling

[707 PANIC MODE ENGAGED]

Recognizes it as an allergic reaction almost immediately and mentally slaps himself for not checking if you had a peanut allergy

He keeps epipens and other medical emergency things around the house- but turns out he didn’t need it because you’d already dug one of your own out of somewhere and stabbed it into your leg

He didn’t realize he’d frozen up when your breathing became impaired

WILL blame himself for this,, requires an adequate amount of cuddles afterwards to make sure he doesn’t fall back into his funk™️

Makes sure to check that every little thing going into your mouth isn’t something you’re allergic to

“Are you allergic to hotdogs?”

“Wait! What if you’re allergic to my love?”

Quickly devolves into just teasing

But now he carries at least five epipens on his person at all times

Zen

Ayy allergy buddies

You immediately bond with him over your mutual cat allergy

Although it’s not nearly as severe as his who tf sneezes at pictures Zen

You two end up adopting a big fluffy black dog together

Teasing Jumin’s love for cats? Check. Spamming the messenger of selfies with your dog to annoy Jumin? Check.

Most of your interactions with Jumin will inevitably lead to the subject of your dog and Elizabeth III

Zen ends up taking your little ‘rivalry’ way too seriously

Both of you spend way too much money on dog collars, dog beds, dog clOTHES

Tries to get your dog casted in a theatrical show

Jihyun (V)

Oh the irony- you’re allergic to the sun

He honestly just thinks you’re really into skin care because of all your assorted lotions and creams

Doesn’t really think much of it until a very intense heatwave hits your town and you’re basically trapped inside your apartment

Usually you’re able to out for short periods of time during the summer as long as you cover up and moisturize, but this time it’s way worse

You can’t risk it so you end up just staying home most days

Except from Jihyun’s perspective it feels like you’re avoiding him??

You still message each other and have calls over the phone, but every time he tries to meet up somewhere you bail- not wanting to worry him about your condition

He’s pretty understanding for the most part, knowing that personal space is important to a relationship

But the man is human and he’s realizing that he really misses seeing you

A few days turns into weeks of not being out with you and my boy starts going a bit stir crazy

Begins to overthink every interaction you two have and had in the past couple weeks that may have caused you to start avoiding him

V being V, he bottles up all these emotions until one day when he’s just at your door

He’s just apologizing and apologizing for whatever he thinks he did wrong

You are just- incredibly confused

As soon as you figure out what’s happening you explain to him right away why you haven’t been able to go outside

The relief this man feels

Understands completely although he’s a little miffed you thought you had to keep this a secret from him

You two end up just hanging out at your place for the rest of the summer- cuddling and watching movies

He’s trying to make up for all the time you two missed out on lol

Buys you all the creams and medication you might need in the future 👍🏼

Saeran

Being with Saeran means you’re probably going to be eating a lot of ice cream

...which might not be super good for your dairy allergy

It’s never gotten worse than a slightly upset stomach though so you keep quiet about it

Well, it’s never gotten worse until now

After a particularly busy day at a new Baskin-Robbins that opened near your place- where he obviously was going to try every single flavour

Your body just could not handle it and he found you throwing up your guts at 2 in the morning

He just starts

Screaming

Thinks you’re dying for real,, does not know how to handle this situation

You’re basically trying to calm him down while also hacking and wheezing into the toilet

Once he sort of calms down enough to actually listen to what you’re saying, he just sits down next to you and pats your back really awkwardly

“Is this your way of comforting me”

“Shut up we’re never going back there again”

Jaehee

She had been overworking herself again recently and you’d forced her to take a break and hang out with you

You two decided to go out for a picnic, since it was such a nice day

She had packed cute bite sized sandwiches and fruit cubes

After eating, she had laid back on the blanket, just relaxing and listening to you talk

You were excitedly mentioning the new selfie Zen sent to the messenger, reaching for your phone to show her

Unfortunately you did not notice the bee chilling on your phone case

You did soon enough though when you felt the sharp sting in your hand a telltale bee sting

Jaehee immediately sat up when she heard your yelp, seeing your swelling hand and face

But this is baehee we’re talking about

Of course she knew about your allergy already and had three epipens ready

On the outside she was the epitome of calm and collected as she swiftly pulled out the pen and injected it into your thigh

But on the inside she was freaking out

Panic panic panic

After making sure you’re okay afterwards both of you decide that was enough for relaxing picnic time

You two had back home and just cuddle for the rest of the day watching recordings of Zen’s musical

[mirainawen]

“But I don’t need a jacket.”

Dean tossed the paper beside Sam. “Spirit of Halloween Strikes Local Pumpkin Patch.”

Sam frowned, returning his attention to the open germanic text before him. “Jude Lawson,” he guessed, and turned a page.

“Not the byline, Sam.”

He paused, looking up at his brother. Dean’s brows rose, eyes gesturing to the paper. Sam sighed, sitting back to drag the newsprint closer. “Halloween irritates me as much as it does you, Dean.” He began, but trailed off as he skimmed the first part of the article. 

“Of the two of us, who’s willingly gone to a Halloween party?”

“Pretty sure you went to a few in high school,” Sam mumbled as he unfolded the paper to find the rest of the article.

“Lot of hot girls at those parties.”

“Right.” He only half-acknowledged his brother, focusing on the article. He read, then re-skimmed it. Flipped the paper back to the front page, where the original headline was tucked into the bottom corner.

Wasn’t considered important enough to beat out the front and center announcement Baldwin City Oktoberfest Sees Record Numbers At New Location.

Who wanted to frighten the local yayhoos with stupid concerns like “disturbing messages painted in goat’s blood on various pumpkins throughout hay bale maze.”

“You think this is something more than some local kids, uh,” Sam cleared his throat, “getting in the spirit?”

Dean shot him a look like don’t try to be funny, and shrugged, letting his hands fall from the back of the chair as he straightened up. “Doesn’t hurt to check it out.”

He shrugged, unable to argue that point. “Okay, so, you want us to go with you?” he asked.

Dean huffed, shaking his head. “No, I think I can investigate a pumpkin maze by myself, Sam.”

He shrugged again. “I’ll stay here with Adam then.”

“Right.” Dean nodded. “Uh, Sam…?”

He looked up, brows raised in question.

“Don’t tell him where I’m at.” Dean lowered his voice.

Sam paused, glancing unnecessarily towards the hall leading to their rooms. 

“Kid’s been begging to go since last week.”

His brow furrowed. “How did he know about it?”

“Some kid at daycare.” Dean pulled a face.

The word still felt like a coldwater shock to just throw it out there so casually. Five months in and not a single part of the new-normal felt...well, normal.

“Wants to go trick-or-treating too.”

He reacted strongly. “What did you tell him?” Trick-or-treating…he’d do a lot of things for Adam he’d never saw himself doing in a million years, but… He hated Halloween so much.

Dean grinned. “Told him you’d love to dress up and take him.”

“Dean.”

“Good luck, Sammy!”

*

Sam paused and glanced up. It’d been a couple hours now and he’d yet to see Adam. The bunker was unusually quiet. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Dean had taken Adam with him.

He didn’t think there was anything to find out there at the maze, dumb teenagers being stupid, but he also recognized when Dean was getting stir-crazy.

Neither of them was addressing it yet, but they hadn’t heard from adult-Adam in long enough that things were looking…permanent.

Checking his watch, he called, “Adam? Hey, buddy, what do you want for lunch?”

There’s no answer, and Sam sighed. He shouldn’t have left the kid alone as long as he did. So much he was still getting used to.

“Adam?” he called again, making his way down the hall towards their rooms. Their doors were closed, but Adam’s was cracked. He pushed it open to look inside.

The room was dark. The bed was messily made but made. No sign of Adam.

He sighed. “Alright, shortstack—this isn’t funny! Where are you?” He hoped the nickname at least would raise a protest.

Another thing that had been slowly disappearing.

Still nothing. He checked the bathroom, the kitchen, library, couch, and when that produced no sign of his little brother, something frantic beat against irritation in his chest.

Adam had a tendency to disappear and appear in places he wasn’t supposed to be.

He grabbed a flashlight and headed for the closest storage room when he heard his phone ringing from the library. He ignored it, calling for his brother.

It stopped, and started ringing again. Rang twice, stopped. Rang again, once, twice, three, pick up Sammy. Stopped.

In the ten second delay he knew would come, he rushed back to grab his phone. He answered on the first ring, already knowing who it was.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t tell me it took you this long to realize.” Dean said, exasperated.

“Realize-”

“Adam’s with me.”

Sam froze. He can hear and read Dean’s mood through the phone—it’s not amused, and it’s not entirely directed at him. This wasn’t a game.

He walked back to the library, gesturing in agitation. “What the hell, Dean? How did-”

“Kid snuck into the back seat before I left.” He directed some of that disapproval towards their resident troublemaker.

“Because I just knew you weren’t gonna take me!” Adam griped in the background. “And I wanted to-”

“Hey, what did I tell you? Shut up.” Dean told him. “You coulda given Sam a heart attack if Sam noticed.”

“I noticed,” he shot back, ruffled at the way that last was actually directed at him. “I’ve been looking for him!”

“Obviously not very good.” Dean said, though even he couldn’t be sure what he meant by that.

Sam stewed in the irritation rather than rise to it.

“I’m not done here.” Dean’s voice was briefly lost in a burst of wind.

“I don’t wanna go home!” Adam protested.

“Adam.” When Dean used his name and not some form of kid, usually meant Adam was in serious hot water.

And to be fair, Sam couldn’t imagine anything less. He could’ve given Adam a decent lecture all his own, except that he knew Dean would have him beat.

“I’ll come get him.” He said.

“Bring his jacket, and…” Dean hesitated. The Impala door slammed shut. There was still background noise, so he must’ve closed Adam in the car. “Make it quick, Sam.”

He hung up.

*

The hundreds, if not thousands of people, that were gathered in Baldwin flooded the fairgrounds. Sam called Dean at the entrance, because he had the feeling he could drive dozens of rows and still not find them.

Adam answered. “Sam, do we have to go home?”

No greeting from their rather precocious five-year-old. The thorn in their sides. The whirlwind of energy turning their lives lopsided. The reason Sam was thinking about hanging it up and making sure the world was much safer this time around for his little brother.

“Buddy,” he sighed. He knew that tone. “You snuck out.”

“Yeah, because Dean lied to me!”

“No, don’t make this about Dean-”

“He said we weren’t gonna go! Then he went!”

“Adam. He’s here to investigate. Not to have fun.”

He thought he heard Adam kick the seat. Dean would be pissed.

The door cranked open. “Hey,” Dean’s voice in the background. Sure enough, not happy. “Don’t think I didn’t see that. Cut it out- who are you talking to?”

“Sam.”

He must have gestured or otherwise forcibly taken the phone. “Sam?”

“Where are you guys?”

“Fifth row, by the front.”

He scanned the crowd. “I see you.”

Dean snapped the phone shut.

He tossed his as he pulled up behind the Impala.

“Bring his jacket?” Dean asked as soon as he stepped out. It was windy out, the cool autumn air alternately bursting and going quiet.

Sam grabbed it.

Adam pushed his door open, sitting on the edge of the seat. He looked absolutely mournful, pleading—and he had the look turned on Sam.

Sam ignored him. “Find out anything?”

“Maybe.” Dean hedged. “They’ve already cleared the area.”

He winced, nodding. Made sense. “Gonna stick around tonight?”

“I’m thinkin’ about it.”

He nodded again, moving over towards Adam. “Come on, shortstack.”

“I don’t. Wanna. Go. Sam.” Adam said quietly.

“Here.” He handed him his jacket. “And we’re going.”

Adam refused it, not moving. He looked away.

“Adam.” Sam warned.

“But I don’t NEED a jacket!”

“Kid.” Dean spoke. “Out of the car. Put on the jacket. Go with Sam. Not. Another. Word.” The last minced out when Adam opened his mouth.

He hopped out of the car. “But Dean-”

“Adam.”

He took it mulishly. “I’m not cold, though!”

“Hey, buddy- even I have a jacket on.” Sam huffed, just wanting to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible.

Adam looked up at him. “Please Sam.”

Not about the jacket.

“Turn off the puppy eyes, kid. You’re going home with Sam.”

“Come on, bud- just get in the car.”

Not all the fight had left him. It was obvious in the way he stormed over to the SUV, hauling the door open with his entire body weight cause he could barely reach the handle.

Sam glanced back at Dean. “Uh,” he shrugged, “let me know if you find something?”

Dean nodded. “Oh, and Sam?”

He paused.

“Look up from your romance novels now and again.”

“Haha, very funny.”

*

Adam’s very much ignoring him, staring resolutely out the window. Today, he hates the booster seat, he hates being a kid, he hates being bossed around, and he hates it when Sam tells him no.

Sam sighed. “Hey, how about an ice cream cone?” He glanced in the rearview mirror. Adam didn’t move. “Or...we could go get pie at Zoe’s. Not tell Dean. Our secret. You want that?”

“I want to take this jacket off! I’m hot!”

“Hey.” He caught Adam’s eye. “Don’t yell at me.”

God, he sounded like an overworked mom. How had that happened?

He was a crappy one, to say the least. 

“Saaaaaaaaaaam,” Adam groaned, thunking his head against the back of his seat. He kicked his legs. “I’m just really hot!”

“Okay, calm down.” He recognized the beginnings of a meltdown when he saw one. “Take off the jacket. Just take it off.”

Adam practically threw it. Huffed. Sat back and folded his arms.

“Better?” Sam asked, checking the crossroad before turning.

“No. I want to go back.”

“We’re not going back.”

“But I want to go with Dean!”

“You are not going with Dean.” Now he was irritated.

“But I want to be with Dean!”

“He’s busy.”

“SAM!”

He startled, glancing back. Adam’s eyes had welled up and his chin was trembling, breath hitching.

“What? What’s the matter?”

Adam threw his head back.

“Hey! Talk to me—what’s wrong?”

“I said I don’t need a jacket and you made me wear a jacket!”

“Buddy.” Sam clung to the other side of exasperation for all it was worth. “We took it off. You took it off. Why are you upset?”

“I don’t wanna go hooooooooooome.” Adam sobbed.

“We don’t have to—I said we could go get an ice cream, or pie.”

“I don’t want pie!”

“Okay, no pie.”

“I don’t want pie! I don’t want a jacket! I don’t want ice cream!”

“Then what do you want? We could go to the park?” he offered, scanning the road.

“Noooooo!”

“I don’t know what you want then.”

“I want! Dean!”

“Adam-”

“I don’t feel well!”

Shit. Sam glanced back. Adam’s face was red, covered in tears and snot.

“You feel sick?”

“UhHUH!”

“Okay, okay, calm down.” Sam soothed. “I’m pulling over.” Shit shit shit

He might’ve pulled off a little too fast for comfort. He was too distracted to flip off the Ford tailing his ass when the asshole slammed on the horn. 

They were too close to the highway to let Adam get out by himself, so Sam pulled the door open and scooped him up. He barely made it around the car to set him down before Adam puked.

He hadn’t just been being difficult when he insisted he didn’t need a jacket. He was burning up.

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Come Into the Water (4/15)

In the morning, Sarah wakes up staring at the little analog clock sitting on the floor in the corner. She doesn’t remember putting it there, but it’s helpful as it tells her she needs to get going to her appointment soon. The appointment she definitely doesn’t want to go to. The appointment she has to go to if she doesn’t want anyone banging down her door to drag her, kicking and screaming, back to sterile walls where they call her a danger to herself even though it’s hardly true.

She forces herself to sit up and find a pair of pants, which turn out to be a loose pair of pink sweats lined in fleece, soft and comfortable and protective against the world. They’re a security blanket to hold onto as she rifles through drawers in the kitchen until she finds her house key. It takes a few minutes, but she gets it and leaves, locking the door on her way out. She doesn’t have a car, but the downtown area- which is really just four intersecting streets- is within walking distance and the movers pointed the address out to her on their way by a couple days ago. 

Each step is draining, but she takes them because she has to. Admittedly, the cool, fresh air feels nice in her throat and she hasn’t taken a good, long walk in a while. She used to jog around her neighborhood, and then her campus, just for the way it feels after. The sting in her muscles, the ache in her chest, the energy that slowly burns itself away as dopamine and adrenaline stop spreading themselves around her often overworked brain.This isn’t more than a couple miles, and she’s only walking, but it feels like a start. She’s out of practice anyways, and quickly gets out of breath. 

Thankfully, when she arrives at the office, there’s a water cooler in the corner that she helps herself to three full cups of before approaching the receptionist and nodding when she’s asked if she’s Sarah Reese. She’ll be talking for a while, and that’ll take a fair amount of energy for the day. 

“Have a seat for a minute, I’ll let her know you’re here.”

Sarah sits down on one of the hard chairs and crumples her paper cup in her hand because she can. Destroying things is cathartic, and she contemplates going home, ripping open her box of dishes, and breaking every single plate until her entire floor is nothing but shards of broken glass digging into her feet. Maybe it’s not a healthy coping mechanism, but she considers it until a kind woman with greying hair, cat eye glasses, and pink lipstick that has started to feather around her mouth. The color is a bti garish, but that makes it safe, in a way. Sarah comes forward, drops her cup in the little teal trash can, and follows into the office.

A comfortable armchair faces an overly soft couch, which Sarah sits on gingerly. She knows of Dr. Riley, knows she’s well liked and respected, but that doesn’t mean she knows her or is already comfortable talking about herself. That sort of thing takes time. She’s only been in town for three days, although it feels like much longer with the way her sense of time distorts nowadays.

“Good morning, Sarah,” Dr. Riley says warmly. 

Sarah nods.

“You know I looked through some of your old therapist’s notes, and I’ll be talking to them while we treat you, but I want to know you outside of that. Can you start by telling me about yourself? Maybe about your childhood, or how you’re settling in, or what you were studying at school?”

The last question slithers around each of Sarah’s ribs in a slow suffocation before she tries speaking. It’s alright. She wasn’t going to answer it anyways. “I’ve met my neighbors,” she answers. “Maggie and Olivia and their son, Noah. We had dinner last night, and Olivia and I had breakfast yesterday.”

Dr. Riley writes something in her notepad, which Sarah absolutely doesn’t internally panic about for a brief moment before she reigns herself back in. There’s nothing to be afraid of here. There’s someone right outside the door, and a window with easy access, and a heavy lamp to Sarah’s right for self defense, should she need it. She’s okay.

“Tell me about that.”

For a good half hour, Sarah finds herself talking about Maggie and Olivia’s kindness, about how well they mesh and how much their house feels like a home. From there, she starts talking about how much she wants a home like that, because she can’t help it. However, she pointedly doesn’t mention Ava, nor the thrill that ran her at the realization that women can marry other women and be happy. What a dream she had never considered before.

But then she’s thinking about those very things, and it draws Dr. Riley’s attention when she falls silent in an effort to avoid talking about them. 

“Sarah?”

“Do you believe in mermaids?” she blurts out.

It sounds stupid. A child’s fantasy, a crazy woman’s desperate attempt to cling to something good when the world is crumbling around her into little pieces that she cannot put back together. The way real glass shatters, not the fake attempt that is mostly large shards. The words are out there, though, and cannot be taken back no matter how much Sarah wishes on the contrary. 

However, instead of being concerned or asking Sarah if she sees things that aren’t there, Dr. Riley smiles at her and shifts in her chair. “Seen one already? We’ve got a pod around here, off the coast a ways. Everyone who lives here has seen them at some point, but usually not unless they’ve been here a while. The mermaids can be shy- or mean.”

That’s not the response she had been expecting, but Sarah relaxes immediately. She’s not crazy. Neither is Olivia, nor Maggie. This is normal here. Her relief must show on her face because Dr. Riley laughs a little and goes over to her desk and returns with a framed photograph of a dark haired woman, gleaming grey tail splashing in the waves as she sits on the rocks, her hair covering her chest modestly, unlike Ava in real life or any of the photos. 

“This is Brianne. We have dinner together from time to time.”

A question strikes Sarah as she studies Brianne’s hands splayed in her lap. 

“You said they have a pod? Like dolphins?”

“You could put it that way.”

She nods thoughtfully. “So if one were trapped, like, tangled in a net, wouldn’t the others help her?”

“Of course.”

Then why was Ava alone? Sarah doesn’t voice the question, but it clings to her as Dr. Riley puts the picture back where it was. It might have something to do with the way Ava stopped appearing in photographs, and something is familiar about being cut off from everyone. The way her only friends abandoned her when she told them what he did to her. Packing her things all on her own without anyone there to save her. 

Next thing she knows, Dr. Riley is telling her what she’d like her to do before their next session in a few days; she should keep trying to socialize with the neighbors, and she should reach out about how she feels. If she knew Sarah needed to get necessities for the house, she’d probably tell her to buy those, too. 

After she leaves, reemerging into late morning air, Sarah looks around the block. There’s a general store, a bakery, a boutique, a gift shop- just a few little staples, one of which she stops at to finally pick up basics for around the house. But at the end of the “downtown” area, there’s a large building- or rather, one medium building with two smaller ones near it, with a sign outside she can’t read from this distance. Something draws her to it, and she doesn’t read the sign before approaching, looking at the well kept local grass growing, but not too tall, around the area. She hears voices and follows them, all the way to the back of the building, where a handful of men and women are tending to a lush garden of flowers and such, pulling up weeds. When she gets closer, she recognizes one of the women.

“Olivia?”

Olivia stands up and smiles, wiping her work gloves on loose, stained denim pants. “Hey, what’s up?”

She shrugs in answer. “I was just wandering around, is all. Looking for something to do with my day.”

“Well, if you want-” Olivia kneels in the dirt again and grabs a spare pair of dirty work gloves, “-you can join us. It’ll only take an hour or so, but it’s rewarding.”

An hour sounds like a long time, and Sarah wants to go home. But something calls her to stay, and she takes the gloves, slides them onto her too-small hands, and looks for plants that don’t belong. Everyone is chattering happily, and make an effort to pull her into the conversation without forcing her to take part. It feels nice to be a part of something, if she’s honest.

The work isn’t hard, and it goes by quickly before Olivia stands up and bids everyone goodbye, says she’ll see them later. Only then does Sarah dare to ask where she is, and Olivia gives her this proud, eager smile that fits on her face as naturally as the wedding band on her finger.

“This is the temple. It’s not much, but it’s ours, and I’m proud of it.”

“Oh.”

Sarah doesn’t entirely understand, but she doesn’t have to in order to like it. It’s something that makes people happy and brings them together, and on a day when she has more energy, perhaps she’ll ask more questions or give it all a more thorough look. For now, though, she walks off with Olivia and they head home in companionable silence, another invitation extended for dinner that Sarah accepts because she has yet to go grocery shopping.

They part at the front step and Sarah, because she can’t help it, goes back down to the shore after setting down her groceries, rolling up her pants and crossing her arms over her chest in the cold wind. She wants to see Ava again, but doubts she will. She ran off last time, after all, and that’s not usually grounds for a warm welcome.

However, as she approaches the tidepools, she hears a familiar splash, and looks out at the water to see eyes peering at her over the slow waves. Blue. Familiar. Ava. Sarah wants to say something, but all the words die in her throat instead of making it to her lips and tongue.

Slowly, Ava comes closer, until she’s shallow enough that her whole upper body is out of water and she folds her arms on the rocks, resting her chin on them, and lazily swishes her tail in the water.

“You left,” she says in a stiff voice like windless summer days. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Ava makes the same trilling sound from the day before and smiles, revealing an unnatural edge to her teeth. They’re beautiful, though. Less threatening than a human mouth would be for Sarah, strangely enough. She smiles back and slides down the rock to sit on it, her calves in the water, almost to the rolled-up hem of her sweats.

“I want to show you something, but you have to trust me.”

Sarah shouldn’t trust her. But Ava is so kind, has such an open and real look on her face, the kind it’s easy to sink into like a warm bed on a cold wintry day. She nods, and Ava tugs at her ankle, about to pull her in. Instead of panicking, Sarah pulls away and sheds her sweatpants, too fond of them to ruin them in the sea, and throws them back to safety in one of the last tidepools before the cliffside, hoping they won’t go too far.

When Ava pulls at her again, Sarah allows her without another thought.

[ladylilithprime]

Sastiel Creations Challenge | @ladylilithprime

↳ Theme: One More | Prompt: Day

Fluff Bingo Square: Movie Night

=I Did Not Live Until Today=

Read on AO3

MOVIE NIGHT IN the Bunker had been originally instituted by Dean, and the insistence of Sam that everyone in the Bunker, especially a stressed out and overworked teenaged Prophet of the Lord, needed to take regular breaks to relax and unwind before the constant "go, go, go" made them all go crazy. Hunts would occasionally interrupt the ritual, postpone it for a couple of days, but none of them were allowed more than ten days without a mandatory Movie Night. Dean had insisted that Castiel join these movie nights whenever he was around, intent on "educating" the Angel in what he termed the "classics" of cinema. Castiel had confided privately to Sam that, upon viewing these so-called classics, he was gaining more of an understanding of Dean than he was of why the movies were classical, which Sam had assured him was normal.

Movie Night had been weird after the Trials, because Sam would start out watching the movie with Dean and whoever else was there, but suddenly it would be hours later and he wouldn't remember actually watching any of it despite not having moved. In the wake of Crowley showing up in Sam's head with the brothers' code word tripping off his tongue to warn him that he had an angelic passenger who had taken over the driver's seat, Sam figured he knew what had happened and maybe he felt a little tiny flicker of gratitude for Gadreel sparing him having to watch the monkey movies again, but that was drowned out by the overall feelings of shock and betrayal and rage because how could Dean do this to him?!

It was Sam's decision to continue Movie Night even though it was just him and Castiel in the Bunker now. The original purpose of enforcing a break on overworked humans was still valid, even though now the overworked human was only Sam, and the secondary purpose of introducing Castiel to human entertainment was also still in effect, perhaps even more so after Metatron had downloaded a huge selection of American pop culture into Castiel's head without much in the way of context. Without Dean to steer the selection towards action films and neither of them particularly interested in watching mindless violence and gore, plus Sam's increased aversion to psychological horror films, the movies they watched tended to veer more towards musicals. If Castiel suspected that this, too, might be a bit of Sam's rebellion against Dean's stubborn adherence to mullet rock as the only valid music to listen to, well, he didn't call Sam on it and Sam didn't choose to admit anything.

Tonight was another designated Movie Night, not because it had been too long since the last, but because Sam knew that after the failure of the tracking spell with Gadreel's extracted Grace he, at least, needed something where the fate of the world was less dependant on the outcome. In hindsight, queueing up Les Miserábles was probably not the best idea given the overall setting of the movie and the themes of melancholy and grief that pervaded it, but he suspected Castiel would appreciate the other themes of faith and sacrifice and second chances.

He probably should have expected Castiel's analysis of the story's themes to extend to their lives, but somehow it didn't even occur to him until Castiel blindsided him with an abrupt declaration that Jean Valjean reminded him of Sam.

"I'm sorry?" Sam blurted, not sure he had heard the Angel correctly.

"He is a good man who committed criminal acts for a good cause and was harshly punished for it even after his incarceration ended," Castiel explained, gesturing to the screen where Valjean's pay was docked in front of the other workers, who were openly hostile. "It does not matter to these people that his intentions were noble - to feed his family - or that the crime was relatively minor, all they see is the criminal record and discount the good heart of the man who committed it and is stained by that record in the eyes of the society he serves."

"Cas, that's not... I started the Apocalypse!" Sam said, shaking his head. "That's a good bit worse than stealing a loaf of bread and running."

"You killed a demon," Castiel disagreed. "A demon you had been told by everyone around you was responsible for breaking Seals and that killing her would stop things. You were deliberately not told that she was the final Seal and that killing her would release Lucifer because enough angels, myself included, believed that if you knew the truth then you would not have killed her. Yet you do not blame me for lying to you, or for changing my mind and breaking through my conditioning too late to send Dean in time to stop you. Nor do you blame Dean for breaking under Alistair and being the one to break the first Seal which set things in motion. Instead, you continue to allow people, including Dean who should really know better, to cast the blame for things beyond your control onto your shoulders and even take on blame and responsibility where there should be none, forgetting that any penance required for playing a part long ago set out for you has been more than served."

Sam looked away from Castiel's placid, deeply knowing expression, but found he couldn't focus on the screen until a flash of silver catching light drew his attention. "Look, I don't... whatever redemption I might have earned with jumping has to be cancelled out by the things I did after getting out again, especially all the crap I pulled without my soul--"

"Do you think yourself responsible for your soulless self's actions, even though your soul was still in the Cage being subjected to Michael and Lucifer's torments?" Sam frowned a little at the low notes of guilt and sorrow in the Angel's voice and looked over, but Castiel wouldn't meet his eyes, staring instead at the screen as the old priest backed up Valjean's lie of gifted silver and gave over the candlesticks as well. "Hm. Heaven has not treated you nearly so kindly as this priest does..."

"Castiel," Sam started to reach out, but found his courage falter and lowered his hand with a sigh. "I know you didn't leave my soul behind on purpose. I knew it then, too, even with you keeping secrets and never having mentioned it before that moment... sorry, too, about the holy fire."

"There is no apology necessary," Castiel refuted, though Sam thought he looked moderately grateful for it anyway. "You were right to be suspicious of my actions and motives at the time, if not for that specific reason."

"Still..."

"Sam, I assure you, I hold no ill will over your suspicion of me, nor for your actions to try and stop me. If anything, I am deeply grateful for your continued faith in me even after I had gone off the reservation and done you considerable harm." Castiel shook his head. "We are getting away from the main subject, which is that you are not responsible for the actions your body committed without your soul present."

"It was still my body," Sam argued. "My... impulses or whatever, stripped of my inhibitions--"

"Not true," Castiel interrupted. "Stripped of your higher empathic functions and natural moral compass that is your soul, your body behaved with logical precision not unlike how most Angels would act. While that behavior likely seemed heartless or 'dickish' at times, this was in part because of the contrast to your usual compassion and kindness, but you weren't actively malicious or uncontrolled. Everything, including the decision to go to Dean with the suspicion that something was wrong and to ask him to be your moral compass, was meticulously and logically thought out and reasoned for the most optimal outcome. Recall that your soulless self felt that it was for the best that your soul be retrieved and rejoined with your body, and only rejected the plan when the possibility that doing so would kill you was presented."

"Whereupon I promptly tried to kill Bobby! Cas--"

"Sam," Castiel turned fully to face him and glared at him in a way that reminded Sam forcefully of the fact that this was an Angel of the Lord. "You. Are. Not. To. Blame. Your soulless self attempted to kill a man who showed every sign of being ready to kill you by forcefully reuniting your damaged soul with your body. A soul, I must add, which did not deserve the torment inflicted upon it and to which we owed the continued existence of the human race."

"I was just--"

"Cleaning up your mess, so you've said." Castiel was beginning to look frustrated. "But the Apocalypse was not just your mess. It was Dean's, and mine, and Lucifer's, and Michael's, and every angel and demon and human servant of either side who worked towards setting it off earlier than my Father planned. I would even venture to say that it was my Father's fault for refusing to step in when, despite Raphael's delusions, we had very clear evidence from Joshua that He is still alive and close enough to be aware of the situation." The Angel reached forward then and covered the shell-shocked human's nearest hand with his own. "Your soulless self recognized that, and recognized the unfair imbalance, and quite rightly called us out on our lack of respect for you and your sacrifices. Since regaining your soul, Dean's insistence on leaving past transgressions in the past except when it suits him to drag them out as evidence of culpability and questionable judgement has driven your self-confidence down to the point where you have even allowed Dean to make you believe yourself at fault for not looking for a brother and non-human friend whom you had every reason to believe were dead and at peace.

"No more," Castiel said with a fire in his vessel's blue eyes that had nothing to do with his borrowed Grace. "Sam Winchester, you will listen to me and believe this if nothing else: You. Deserve. Respect. And for my part in allowing others to be negligent in giving you that respect, you have my apologies."

For a long moment, Sam could do nothing more than stare at Castiel, stunned speechless and feeling more than a few echoes of the old awe and wonder with which he had first viewed this Angel of the Lord who had saved his big brother from Hell. It seemed impossible to believe, even with Castiel staring into him and all but demanding that he do so. For all he knew, he had fallen asleep on the couch next to Castiel and all of this was somehow some sort of incredibly vivid dream like the ones he tried to pretend he didn't have about the Angel, because if anything stood a chance at making their current arrangement far more awkward than it ever needed to be....

Castiel must have seen something of his thoughts in his expression, because the intensity faded into sadness and then, before Sam could gather his wits enough to try and reassure him, turned to resolve. "I will remind you of this conversation later, so as to establish better credibility."

"Um..." Sam blinked. That was unexpected. "Okay? Thanks? I'll... work on believing you, Cas, I will, I just...."

"Have several years of conditioning for expecting the worst to work around, as well as the more recent problems with maintained perception of reality," Castiel nodded. "I will remind you as often as is necessary of your worth and worthiness."

Sam nodded, more for the lack of any other way to acknowledge Castiel's words than out of agreement or understanding, jumping a little when the music from the television screen picked up in volume. He turned back to the movie, flushing darkly when he realized that they'd completely missed Fantine's entire arc and Valjean's crisis of conscience, and reached for the remote. "Oh, hey, let me--"

"No, it's--" Castiel's grip on Sam's hand tightened, then released with enough abruptness that Sam found himself stopping anyway, turning questioning eyes on Castiel. "I confess that I have been, ah, 'cheating' with this film, as it is one of the stories that Metatron saw fit to share, though not this particular version."

"Should we put on something else?"

"If that is what you prefer. I am enjoying watching it with you regardless."

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if that was because of Castiel's bizarre comparisons between Sam and Valjean, but he swallowed it back and instead forced himself to settle back into the couch beside Castiel to watch the introduction to the Thénardier family and Cosette. The silence stretched between them as the music played, until--

"Sam? Why is Thénardier's wife making that gesture when she sings that there is 'not much there'?"

Sam swallowed down the urge to choke or laugh, because of course Castiel would ask about that. He cut a sharp glance in the Angel's direction to check if he was being trolled, but Castiel's expression showed only genuine puzzlement. "Uh... Well, I mean, uh... some guys get kinda hung up on penis size, uh, taking the whole 'bigger is better' idea way too seriously and, uh, thinking that bigger size makes them better able to please their partners, which, uh, really isn't true across the board. And, uh, there are a lot of guys who think that having those, um, extra inches is all they need for it to be good for their partner, which also isn't true." He found himself looking at the screen in a gambit to not have to meet Castiel's eyes, and moments later he pointed. "See, she's saying the line again without the gesture. So, uh, the implication is Thénardier falls doubly short of the mark."

"I see," Castiel said, his tone meditative. With his eyes averted, Sam couldn't see the speculative look the Angel sent in his direction, though he definitely heard the pointedly dry tone when Castiel added, "Mrs Thénardier would do better to find a more skilled pizza man."

Sam jerked his head around to stare at Castiel again, but this time the Angel's expression was the same sort of bland that he used when trolling Dean, and so Sam managed to force out a chuckle for the joke before settling in to watch the dynamics between the Thénardiers and Cosette with its very Cinderella vibe. Castiel muttered something about "punching John Winchester again" that made no sense and Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know about anyway, and then made a brief comment about Cosette's dream being similar to many human interpretations of Heaven, but otherwise said nothing until Valjean told Cosette that he was now her father.

"Another parallel," he said. Sam, who had hoped Castiel had forgotten about his weird fixation by this point, blinked in confusion.

"Uh, Cas, I'm pretty sure I haven't gone and adopted any random kids," he pointed out. Really, that seemed more like something Dean would do than him, Dean actually really liked kids and liked the idea of being a dad while Sam... not so much.

"Random, no," Castiel agreed. "You are, however, extraordinarily compassionate. I suspect that, if presented with an orphaned child whose situation required more specialized guardianship than a more normal human fosterage system could provide, you would be an excellent parental figure." He was silent for a moment, pensive and troubled, and then said, softly, "I had never had Nephilim of my own, nor am I likely to do so in the future, but if I did and was unable to care for the child myself, I would ask you."

"Me?" Sam gaped at him. "I mean, why me? Why not Dean?"

"Dean has an unfortunate history of being less than tolerant of supernatural occurrences, of children with powers beyond most human capabilities," Castiel said, shooting an apologetic glance at Sam even before Sam was aware of wincing. "A Nephil would inevitably have powers, and I am a Seraph. Only an Archangel could overpower and suppress the Grace of a Nephil sired by me, and there are no more Archangels available to do so. You have powers of your own and training in using them, albeit with an enhancement method that I would not recommend using with a Nephil, and would be well suited to teaching."

"Cas, my powers--"

"Are yours and yours alone. Azazel may have forcefully activated them on his own schedule and attempted to corrupt them and, through them, you, but he - and Ruby - failed. Your soul is far too pure and good for their hooks to find permanent anchor."

"But... I mean, you... angels... you always warned me against using them...."

"Only because the method with which you were amplifying them - that is, drinking demon blood - was so dangerous to you and the people around you, and training them to full strength properly after first tearing down Azazel's blocks would have taken considerably more time and effort... and, I suspect, those of my superiors actively assisting in bringing about the Apocalypse did not want you learning to use your powers without the addictive crutch of demon blood that could be used to prime your rage and point you at Lilith when the time came."

"So why are you just now telling me this?"

"Well," Castiel glanced away, looking somewhat sheepish. "To be honest, I did not realize that you were unaware that your powers were innate and not actually demonic in origin until I overheard you speaking of them in past tense as if they no longer existed because you were no longer drinking demon blood rather than you simply not using them. Given my clumsy understanding of social nuances and the complex mix of negative emotions you associate with your powers, I erred on the side of caution and did not mention it until our current conversation provided an opening."

Well. That was fair. Even so, Sam couldn't help but stare at Castiel as he attempted to process everything he had learned in such a short amount of time. The fact that the majority of Angels hated him was not new, but the fact that Heaven had actively sabotaged his efforts to be better than the demon blood that tainted him was... also not new, exactly, but Sam had never expected to hear it put so bluntly in conjunction with reassurance that his powers - and, by extension, Sam himself - did not come from a source of evil.

Even more bewildering was the hypothetical child Castiel spoke of and his assertion that Sam, not Dean who had always longed to be a parent, but Sam who had barely ever had anything to do with children even when he had been one, was to be given custody of the hypothetical Nephil if Castiel was incapacitated. The way Castiel had talked about the subject made it clear that he had never had Nephilim himself, and Sam knew that the creation of Nephilim was outlawed, and yet the Angel was sitting there, calm as you please, declaring that if he did ever have a child with a human and needed another parent besides himself and, presumably, the mother, that he would pick Sam. Sam, who was uncomfortable around kids at the best of times, even if he could fake passable competence in an emergency. Sam, who wouldn't trust himself to look after a completely human baby, never mind one that had "phenomenal cosmic powers" at its disposal. Sam who, until earlier when Castiel had declared that "nothing is worth losing you", had thought that Castiel might possibly consider him a friend at best and tolerated him as a reasonably useful asset at worst. Mind-boggling just didn't cover it.

And that wasn't even touching the whole thing with Castiel sounding like he was defending the actions of his soulless self. The subject of Sam's time topside without his soul was something Dean had never hesitated shut down hard, but Castiel had sounded almost... complimentary. Which made no sense, Sam knew, because without his soul he had been a tactless jerk, not--

"Your soulless self recognized that... and quite rightly called us out on our lack of respect for you and your sacrifices."

Sam swallowed against the lump forming in his throat, and again when it refused to be dislodged. Everything he did to help people, to try and make up for the damage he had caused, it never felt like enough. All the centuries spent in the Cage with Michael and Lucifer systematically taking out their rage on him amounted to only a year and a half on Earth, and the tortures blurred together to the point where Sam had long since lost count of how many centuries it had really been, shoving it down and shoving it down, his shaky forays into meditation and reshuffling his mind only managing to build the flimsiest of fences between his conscious mind and that echoing chasm of memory and pain, bits and pieces escaping here and there to scratch along his dreams. Little reminders that he may be out, maybe, but he would never be truly free. It was a truth, cold and logical and inexorable, that Dean refused to acknowledge in either of them, touched by Hell as they both were in different ways, and neither of them coping nearly as well as they wanted the other to believe.

"Stripped of your higher empathic functions and natural moral compass that is your soul, your body behaved with logical precision not unlike how most Angels would act."

The irony of an Angel of the Lord comparing his soulless self to other Angels was not lost on Sam, nor was the way that comparison gave him mixed feelings. All the years of praying, of believing in God and His Angels, having faith that some higher power was watching out for Dean and his Dad when he couldn't, that there was real good in the world to counterbalance all the evil being shoved at him from all sides...

"Sam Winchester, the boy with the demon blood."

...no....

"Nothing is worth losing you."

...but why....

"Sam? Sam, did you hear me?"

"Hm?" Jolted from his contemplating, Sam shot a guilty look first at the screen - how had he missed that much of the movie?! - and then gave Castiel a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Cas. What were you saying?"

"I was asking about Marius's assertion that he is in love with Cosette, when he has only just met her and barely interacted with her at all," Castiel repeated himself after a moment of scrutiny for his friend. "It seems disingenuous, more like the 'love' of the pizza man and the babysitter."

"It's supposed to be love at first sight, Cas," Sam explained, scrubbing a hand down his face. "It's like... when two people who've never interacted before meet, and there's this... connection that forms between them, like they click on a level that is deeper than physical or emotional. A look, a touch of hands... you just know, looking at that person, that this is it. This is the one." He shrugged. "It's talked about in books and movies and stories and songs all the time as this big romantic ideal, a lot like soulmates... uh, cupid-type soulmates, not me and Dean type soulmates."

"Do you not believe in love at first sight?" Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side with that puzzled curiosity that Sam found endearingly familiar.

"I don't disbelieve in it," Sam said, choosing his words carefully. "I mean, being a hunter has taught me that every story has some root in a truth. I just don't necessarily think that it always happens the way the stories make it sound. Like maybe sometimes it's one-sided, or something gets in the way like they live too far apart or one is already married or..." Sam bit his lip before he could continue the thought with mention of angels and humans, because he knew from Castiel that most instances of humans and angels coupling were less about romance and love and more about lust and awkward power imbalances, and the last thing he wanted to bring up right now was the hypothetical Nephil again. "Besides, just because love usually happens more slowly than a couple of seconds doesn't make it any less deep or meaningful or special."

"I see," Castiel hummed, and then, "Sam? How do you know when you're in love?"

...Shit.

"Uh," Sam reached up to rub the back of his neck, only to force his hand back down again when he realised what he was doing. "It's different for everyone, Cas...."

"I am aware," and there was a definite note of impatience in the gravelled voice. "I am asking how you know when you are in love."

"Oh," Sam mumbled. He could feel his face heating up and very nearly prayed that the heat wasn't a visibly obvious blush before he stopped himself; Castiel would probably hear it if he did. "Uh, well... not to sound like a broken record, but it was different for everyone I was... I mean, I felt differently about different people, even though it's all still love."

Castiel made an encouraging noise, and when Sam chanced a look in his direction, the Angel was turned more towards him than the screen, clearly interested and wanting to hear more. Well, okay then. Sam leaned back into the couch and closed his eyes, reaching back into the depths of his memory for the times he was in love or thought he was, shying away from some of the memories like Madison or Sarah or Amelia, and focusing on the deeper ones, the ones that got under his skin and stayed there across the years, even just as scars. There was a pattern there, a set of feelings that overlapped each instance.

"Happiness," he began, because that was the obvious place to start. "When you see the person, you feel happy. Being around them, sitting next to them, holding hands, hugging... full of happiness and joy and peace. You feel happy when they're happy, sad when they're sad, hurt when they're in pain... You want to protect them, even when you know they can protect themselves. You would fight, kill, even die for them, not because they would ever ask it of you, but because losing them is... unthinkable. It's agony. And all the pain is worth it, because seeing them smile is... it's better than Heaven."

"Oh," Castiel breathed. "Yes, that... that makes so much sense now."

There was a shuffling sound, and the couch cushions dipped beneath shifting weight, and then Sam felt one of his hands being enfolded in Castiel's, the skitter of that unfamiliar Grace held tightly leashed beneath his skin tingling just at the edge of Sam's awareness. He opened his eyes and looked at Castiel, who was beaming at him now from much closer than he had been. "Cas...?"

"Sam," Castiel was still smiling, but it was warmer, softer than the brilliant joy of before, more comfortable and... "Thank you for sharing your feelings with me. I was never able to explain myself adequately to my brothers, and so they frequently drew incorrect conclusions that I lacked the necessary frame of reference to refute or correct. Perhaps now I can make them understand."

"Understand?"

"That I am in love with you, Sam Winchester," Castiel squeezed Sam's hand gently. "My world started the day I took your hand. And I would not have it any other way."

"Cas... I...." He couldn't say it. He wanted to, God, did he ever want to say it back, but the words caught in his throat, too used to being choked back after so many years. "Cas...."

"I know. Sam? Will you hold me again? I enjoyed that quite a lot."

"Sure, Cas," Sam shifted, shoving the whirling of his thoughts back and away, and opened his arms. Castiel released his hand and moved closer, pressing the length of his body against Sam's. He let out a soft sigh as Sam brought his arms up to curl around Castiel, settling in a loose embrace that still managed to fully encompass the Angel's smaller physical frame. Together, they turned to watch the movie, wrapped up in each other and the mutual assurance that their feelings, spoken or not, were returned.

"Tomorrow we'll discover what our God in Heaven has in store...."

=End=

[lokiarsene]

While researching Japanese orphanages, I came up with a few thoughts regarding Goro Akecho's past that are probable, and a headcanon or two here and there. If anyone has more knowledge with the subject, please feel free to correct me if any of this information is off the mark.

All my sources are listed at the end of the post. If you check any of them, please make it source #8, as that is a video where children in orphanages/foster institutions and the institution workers speak for themselves about their experiences, as well as what it’s like to be a part of Hinatabokko, a support group.

ETA: For clarity’s sake, the age of majority in Japan is 20. Not 18. Not 16. Goro and the PT are not considered legal adults until they are 20.

Also, Goro turns 18 in the game. He’s in his third and final year of high school, which would place him in this age bracket as per how Japanese students are assigned to school year. It is unlikely that he would have skipped grades, as that system doesn’t even exist in Japan:

“In Japan, there is no system for skipping grades during the compulsory education period. A student advances from one grade to the next. After completing their compulsory education, in order to get into a [senior] high school, students are usually required to pass an entrance examination.” (Source)

The “senior high school” bit here just means a high school that runs from first to third year. This is why Futaba has to take an entrance exam if she wants to continue her education past junior high.

We know that Goro approached Shido when he was 15/16--which is around the age some children are forced from their orphanages/foster homes (it ranges from 15~18). I'd go so far as to say that Goro approaching Shido was one of the most bitter pills he probably had to swallow. If he wanted to survive, he had to reach out to the father who had used his mother and abandoned the both of them. His other options would be extremely limited, if not non-existent. Most Japanese orphans and foster children end up unemployed or outright homeless once they're forced out of their homes, or they cycle through low-paying jobs with little hope of stability.

We know that Goro had planned a big elaborate revenge set up on Shido after gaining his trust and working with him, and I think many people, mostly critics of Goro, completely overlook just how many obstacles he had to clear just to get to Shido in the first place. Goro would have had no contacts, no social connections, and no political clout whatsoever that would allow him easy access to his father. I wouldn't be surprised if the only reason why Shido first gave him the time of day was a cruel whim.

Personally? My headcanon is that Wakaba Isshiki's research on Palaces, the Metaverse, and Treasures involved orphans and other such people that would easily be overlooked by society. While it sounds really crass to assume that orphans would be experiment victims, please note that I don't make that statement or offer it as a headcanon lightly. It's something I pieced together based on @jacks-plays-persona5​'s already existing argument for Wakaba’s research to be shady, as well as information gleaned from my research into Japanese orphans and foster children--that being they have little to no rights, and no one actively or even legally interested in their well-being or protection. What's more, children in these care facilities are often still beholden to their parents or relatives' control, even if they are not caring for the children.

From source #6: A care worker at an institution in Tsukuba said, “In Japan, the interest of the parents is seen as more important than the interests of the child.”

This refers to how children in these systems are often placed there by parents who can no longer care for them, but also refuse to actually legally give them up. Because of this, these children can never be formally adopted as they are still legally within their birth parents' custody.

To bring this back to the Wakaba headcanon: for parents who give up their children due to financial hardship, who's to say that they wouldn't thus be paid to give their children over to this research? There's even an instance of birth parents using their daughter to help mitigate their own financial troubles, such as the case of Kana-chan during Futaba's confidant link. Kana is not an orphan, nor was she placed in foster care, but the abuse and mistreatment she suffered was born from her parents' financial desperation and their callous insistence that Kana's life was theirs to do with as they pleased.

With the above information in mind, and with an in-game example of birth parents mistreating their own daughter for financial gain, I think my headcanon that "thrown away children" were sold for research to help their struggling parents is well within the realm of possibility. I also find it extremely difficult to believe that Wakaba would find willing, voluntary participants in such risky research, especially since it sounds like batshit crazy science on par with the Kirijo group's experiments in Persona 3.

Regardless--us not knowing exactly why Shido gave Goro the time of day is a frustrating oversight on the part of the plot, because by all rights Shido shouldn't have given an absolute shit about Goro unless something about him stood out from the get go. I highly doubt it could have just been Goro saying, “hey I have special powers for you to use.” Goro would have needed something else as a foot in the door before that revelation, or Shido would have already had to assume Goro capable of such a thing. Thus my headcanon that it was Goro's surname that caught Shido’s attention--perhaps Shido recognized it from Wakaba's research data? Or his own memories about Goro's mother?

It’s possible I’m totally overlooking something in canon that Shido says about this, as I haven’t yet gotten up to Shido’s fight in my replay and I have a totally abysmal memory. I’ll come back to this and edit in any information that either refutes or backs up this headcanon.

Now, back to the fruits of my research: Many children in these orphanages receive little to no education on top of spotty care from overworked and underfunded foster caretakers and the qualities of the homes themselves. For Goro to be as intelligent as he is--articulate, quick-witted, talented, and educated enough to work with the police while he's still a teenager--is downright miraculous. It strongly indicates that he desperately dedicated himself to his studies, most likely out of fear of where he'd end up if he wasn't smart enough to succeed. He himself admits he worked so hard so someone would accept and need him, but this doesn't answer how he had the resources to do so--it's very likely he did it all himself, which is another miracle considering that most children in orphanages don't continue past junior high, and they’re raised to do exactly as they are told, with little emphasis on individual decision-making. And even with all this, Goro is in a prestigious private high school in Tokyo. I know this is likely due to Shido's influence, but for Goro to have the knowledge to succeed in that school is still downright staggering.

Also gained from this research is the information that the hierarchy of bullying within Japanese orphanages is a tyranny of its own. Older children often antagonize and bully the younger ones, forcing them to 'stay in line' and listen to what the older children say. There is also very little privacy guaranteed to the children in these care homes--most have to live in very small spaces close together, and have to share bathrooms.

This information provides yet another necessary detail we can safely assign to Goro's background, one that leads nicely (re: heartbreakingly) into his reaction to hearing Ryuji talk about abuse in episode 3 of the anime. As an orphan, Goro would very likely have been a victim of bullying at some point, if not for the majority of, his stay in the facility.

From source #6: Japan’s alternative child care system suffers from overly large institutions where physical space is limited and chances for bonding are scarce; poor physical conditions of facilities; physical and sexual abuse by both caregivers and other children; and insufficient mechanisms for children to report problems.

With this in mind, abuse would very likely be no new thing for Goro at all, nor would it have been something he could easily or even reasonably do anything about. This could and very likely does explain how fervently he clings to his ideal of justice, as he was denied any hope of it for a long time. It also makes his Personas of Robin Hood and Loki all the more fascinating and hurtful: Robin Hood was a champion for the downtrodden and abused. Loki is responsible for the doom of the gods that imprisoned him and massacred his children.

I also don’t want to dismiss the very real damage that Goro would have endured from knowing that his mother committed suicide from the shame of giving birth to him.

To quote from source #8: Takao Inui, Deputy Head at Izumigaoka Gakuin Institution: “Of the 82 children [in the facility], 88% were previously abused. The term “abuse” cannot fully describe the scar they carry in their hearts when they come here.”

My research has also led me to the discovery of an organization called NPO "3keys," which is a fairly recent foundation that strives to help educate and support children in orphanages. When I say recent, I mean it was founded in 2009. If we choose to assume that the developers had this information in mind when writing Goro’s background, he would be in his early tweens at the time of 3keys’ founding, and thus still in an orphanage. It's possible that he was helped by an organization like/inspired by NPO 3keys, and perhaps this is why he's so intelligent and highly educated. But even this is a stretch, because it would assume that 3keys would have (1) had access to whatever orphanage he was living in, and (2) that his orphanage was within Tokyo or Yokohama (where 3keys operates)--as well as (3) that the writers even had this in mind in the first place. I’d like to give them the benefit of the doubt here and assume yes.

Even if that's what happened, that still doesn't change the likelihood of Goro having been abused and mistreated on top of the already existing neglect and trauma of his mother's suicide, and Shido's obvious disinterest in taking any responsibility. What's more, Goro's knowledge of even how to live in society or function in the world likely would have come at a great mentally and emotionally exhaustive cost.

To quote Kiyomi Moriyama, from source #8: “I have friends now, but when I’m by myself I feel lonely. I can’t get used to being alone. Even now, I still don’t know how to spend time on my own. So I get quite lonely.”

Goro’s public personality of a charming, eloquent young man is thus both more impressive and heartbreaking when you realize he had no one actually caring for him, raising him, or helping him grow up at all. This is knowledge he would have had to learn by careful study and observation, or by imitating someone he idolized (very likely Naoto Shirogane and other idol personalities).

I'm basing this assumption off of this excerpt from source #5:

Masashi cared about his appearance – he wore fashionable, albeit worn, clothes and had styled his hair – but a sense of isolation clung to him.

“A day feels like it never ends,” he said, sighing.

It gradually became clear that, growing up in an institution, Masashi hadn’t acquired the knowledge and life-skills necessary to live independently. Nor had he received the continuing support he needed to re-enter Japanese society.

This is a lot of information to take in, and none of it’s easy or light. I’m honestly crying as I go through these sources, seeing what happens to these children and how painful and lonely it must be. To know that this was the basis of Goro’s backstory only makes what happens in Persona 5 all the more infuriating and hurtful.

If I can try to end on a somewhat positive note here, I would like to put forth the slightly desperate plea that the anime does not fail Goro like the game did, and that the anime gives him some sort of hopeful ending, or at least a path to rehabilitation for a young man treated like a throw away child, a young man who was never given a chance for love or support or happiness until the final months of his life.

... I don’t know how else to end this post, besides to ask those who read it to consider Goro’s character from the context of all this difficulty and loneliness, and to perhaps do what they can with this knowledge and put it forward into some kind of real world effort. And to pass along the link once again to 3keys, as donations are always helpful.

Source: Economist.

Source: Quora

Source: JapanToday

Source: Time

Source: HRW

Source: HRW, 2

Source: HRW, 3 (This is 119-paged report, by the by)

Source: HRW, 4 (This infant care institution is called Futaba, by the by)

Source: JPNinfo

Source: JapanTimes

[somethinglacking]

Cruel Angel’s Thesis Chapter 14

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: Mystic Messenger (Video Game) Relationship:707 | Luciel Choi/Main Character Characters:707 | Luciel Choi, V | Jihyun Kim Mary, Vanderwood 3rd, Jumin Han, Zen | Hyun Ryu, Yoosung Kim, Jaehee Kang, Main Character, Rika, Saeran ChoiUnknown | Ray

Saeyoung watched from the kitchen through the patio door leading to the back of the house. There the hacker saw his beautiful girlfriend, attempting to land a hit on Vanderwood… And failing in which caused him to snicker at the unamused look on the brunettes face as she hit the ground yet again. She looked attractive in her sportswear, and hair tied back in a high ponytail. Saeyoung cracked opened his Ph.D.Pepper and watched as she stood yet again, and went to the older agent with all the force her tiny body would allow. He must admit he was also impressed with how fierce Nari could be, she would get back up and try again no matter how hard they knocked her down. Even after a month, Saeyoung noticed the slight changes to her body. Nari was starting to tone in all the right places, making her already irresistible body even more enticing to him. He bit his lip for a second before turning from the window, and back to the world of code.

Upon entering the room Saeyoung scrunched his eyebrows together, noticing a news article open, one he hadn't left. Slowly he lowered himself into his chair and began to read the mysterious article. His eyes went wide as he read the contents, causing him to growl under his breath. “Fuck.” The hacker whispered into the quiet room, it seemingly echoed back at him as he felt his heart drop. This couldn’t be happening, not now, not at a time like this. Worried he started to research more into this matter, fact-checking and reading all official reports on the matter. Saeyoung gritted his teeth as everything seemed legit, and the Korean government was looking into the Mint-Eye.Which was dangerous, not only to the RFA but to Saeran and Himself. “Our father can’t find us.” He murmured to himself making himself more comfortable in his chair and began a very dangerous task. Hacking into the Korean government.

The sun was just starting to set, covering the area in a gentle glow of orange. Nari panted laying on her back looking up with the hues of red bleeding into orange as the sun slow descended behind the horizon. Her leg muscles where constricting as she attempted to move. She groaned a little and winced at the pain. It’s been two months since Vanderwood started to train her, yet her body still felt the same at the end of the day. Stiff, and sore. Nari usually felt like crying when it finally comes time to call it a day. Nari felt her body beg for her to stop with the overexertion and call it quits. Every day it seemed like the older agent would push her further than the day before. Her limits were reached about a month ago, yet here she was still forcing herself through the pain so she could fend for herself.

Even so, she had to admit it hasn’t been as bad as it could have been. Saeyoung had strict rules about her training, which seemed to annoy Vanderwood to no end, but it probably saved her from the older man pushing her near death and back when it came to the physical training. As for the mental training, Saeyoung took it upon himself to train her in that. He had even planned a few trips into the city to test her observation skills and had failed. Miserably so the first few times.saeyoung and even Vanderwood assured her that her senses were picking up and that she was becoming more self-aware.

“You okay?” Vanderwood called out watching the woman before him not move for several minutes. He watched her groan and shakily raise a hand and shot him the thumbs up. Vanderwood scuffed this woman was clearly made for the kid. Shaking his head he walked over towards her, offering her his hand.

Nari looked at the hand, and back up toward the man it belonged to a couple times, she honey gold eyes analyzing the gesture. She was trying to determine if it was a trick or not. Vanderwood smirked slightly realizing this woman was catching on, but he merely intended to help her up and into the house if need be. One thing is for sure, she wasn’t stupid, and aimed to not make the same mistake twice. Like failure wasn’t an option and given her profession it was a good trait. Perfectionist through and through, much like the kid currently inside working away at his computer. “It’s not a trick,” Vanderwood assured her as she again seemed to question his gesture and he sighed in annoyance. “Fine, I’ll leave you here.” The older agent began to retract his hand, as a warm, soft, smaller, yet strong hand wrapped around his own. Slightly taken by surprise his own caramel eyes met with her shimmering golden eyes that reflected the colors of the setting sun. She offered him a soft smiled as he helped her.

“You earned my uncertainty.” Nari explained allowing the much stronger man haul her to her feet.”But thank you, Vanderwood.” She smiled sweetly before turning making her way back toward the house.

Wandering into the house Nari made herself upstairs, first, she wanted to check on her overworked hacker god, then run a really hot bath. Her leg protested each stair as she made her way up the stairs; she felt sweaty and gross. Knowing that if she took a bath before checking in on Saeyoung, she’d passed out and not see him again until morning. She frowned slightly at the thought, they haven’t been able to spend much time with each other. Between her training with Vanderwood, his work for the agency while attempting to take down the agency they were busy people. At least they were living in the same house, or they’d probably never actually see each other.

“Hey,” he said, closing whatever window was open on his computer screen as she entered the room. Nari raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t press him.

“I’m exhausted!” Nari whined seating herself into the empty chair.

“You reek.” saeyoung teased chuckling and she stuck out her tongue at him.

“If I took a bath then I’d go to sleep…,” Nari mumbled before looking at him with a soft smile. “I wanted to spend a few minutes with you.” Saeyoung looked at her with a smiled.

“Why don’t you go run yourself a bath, and I’ll be in bed waiting for you before you’re done,” Saeyoung suggested and her eyes lit up at the offer.

“Deal!” She chirped standing back up with more Energy, and the redhead chuckled as she waltzed out of his workroom. He bit his lip reopening the files of the Korean government, trying to figure out what the prime minister's next move was.

She groaned tossing a little in her sleep, for some unknown reason she was unable to sleep. She smiled a little looking over to her hacker gods relaxed pale face light up by the moonlight. He must be tired, he is usually a really light sleeper. Nari raised her Eyebrow as her phone started to vibrate under her pillow. She grabbed it and removed herself from the bed hoping not to wake the sleeping man beside her. She stepped into the bathroom and answered it groggily.

“Hello?” Her sleep filled voice rasped.

“Oh, you actually picked up…. Uh, shoot I didn't even check the time zone. It's late. I'm sorry I'll hang up.” The soft voice replied and Nari gasped.

“N-n-no!” She whispered stuttering in a panic. “Don’t hang up!”

“Hmmm… I shouldn’t have woke you. I’m sorry- if you want to go back to sleep…” The voice assured her and she felt hot tears start to roll down her face. Nari brought her hand to her mouth astonished that he had even taken the risk to call her.

“S-Saeran,” Nari whispered voice starting to fail her as she scrambled for words. Feeling her brain nearly reeling trying to make cohesive thoughts.

“You recognized me from just my voice…” Saeran mumbled mostly to him in wonder.

“Where are you? Are you okay?” Nari’s voice was stronger now as he chuckled humorously.

“Are you worried about me princess?” He inquired and Nari felt flush at the familiar pet name and wiped the tears from her cheek while taking a deep breathe attempting to steady the onslaught of emotions currently overwhelming her.

“Of course I’m worried about you Saeran- don’t be ridiculous.” Nari scolded earning another soft chuckle from the man on the other end of the phone.She felt a soft smile form on her lips at the sound.

“Hmmm… She wouldn’t be pleased if she knew I called you... “ Saeran explained and Nari frowned. “I just couldn’t help myself really.”

“Are you okay? Please! Please just tell me you’re okay.” Nari sobbed out as more hot tears streamed down her face. He was speaking of Rika, who was also M.I.An at the moment. It made sense that they were together, but her mind kept going back to the fact that It was him, really him. After months of wondering, and searching. She opened the bathroom door and wandered over to her sleeping hacker.

“I’m well Princess… just been getting these crazy painful headaches-” Saeran paused with a slightly pained sigh. “I hope he’s treating you well…” He murmured and Nari hiccuped knowing he would probably hear her quietly crying. Saeran was in pain because he was still taking the elixir, she knew that. It hurt thinking about it, but she didn’t press further.

“He’s wonderful Saeran… He’s been looking for you non-stop.” Nari explained and Saeran snorts. Nari poked Saeyoung’s face. He cracked open eyes and opened his mouth to speak, slightly alarmed to see his girlfriends crying face, and a phone pressed to her ear. Nari silently hushed him pointing to her phone.

“That lying fake.” Saeran laughed loudly into her ear. Saeyoung sat up fast as she pressed the speaker button and his twins tasteless laughter filled their silent bedroom.

“Saeran... “ Nari whispered making eye contact with her boyfriend as she said his name. Saeyoung had tears in his eyes as grabbed her hand, and began to lead them toward his workspace.

“What’s the matter, princess? I’m sure you heard the story right?” Saeran basically snapped and she flinched, but relaxed feeling Saeyoung’s fingers tighten around hers as the entered the room lit by the soft glow of monitors. “You were mine first… He keeps taking everything from me!” Saeran clicked his tongue and scoffed and Nari nearly heaved over as a sob ripped from her. The guilt caused Her to bite down on her tongue until the taste of copper filled her senses.

“That’s not fair Saeran…” She sobbed out as Saeyoung took her phone, and set it up on his computer.He then grabbed his chair and forced her to take a seat. He looked at her with a sorrowful look as he brushed his fingers along her cheeks, wiping away some of the moister.

“You’re right Princess it’s not. I should come take you back.” He laughed again seemed to lose it as he continued. “You belonged to me before he even knew you existed.” Nari gasp eyes wide as she attempted to make words come out. Saeyoung held his breath just staring at the computers attempting to locate the man on the phone. “He has taken everything from me, but I won’t let him take you too! YOU HEAR ME, PRINCESS!!!” He was screaming now completely hysterical.

“Saeran…” Nari attempted and his laughter continued and she cleared her throat slightly. “SAERAN!” She yelled and the line went quiet.

“You should watch your tone princess.” He mumbled seemingly unamused with being yelled at.

“And you should listen when I’m trying to speak to you!” She thundered back and Saeyoung side eyed her smirk on his lips.

“Hmmm? You have something you’d wish to say to me, princess?” His tone seemed actually curious, and slightly amused by her outburst. Saeyoung was busy attempting to locate the location the call was being placed from. Nari bit her lip watching her boyfriend carefully as the next words fell from her lips.

“Come take me saeran.” The tone of her voice didn’t falter as the hacker beside her whipped his head around to stare at her, and Saeran went quiet on the other end of the phone.

“Ahahahaha! I know you’re listening Saeyoung! Look at you trying to pinpoint my location!” Nari and Saeyoung both flinched at the tone of Saeran’s voice.”Hmmm? Nothing to say? Fine.” And with that, the line went dead. Nari covered her mouth and staring at the phone with wide eyes. Saeyoung took her hand pulling her toward, allowing her to curl up on his lap. She grabbed the front of his shirt and started bawling into him. The hacker rubbed soothing circles on her back whilst placing kisses on her crown.

The hackers heart broke as she kept crying out how sorry she was, how she tried. Nari was hysterically blaming herself for failing. Saeyoung could only hold her, assure her he wasn’t upset with her. That he wasn’t blaming her for anything; that none of this was her fault. He gritted his teeth holding back his own tears, not wanting up upset his love any further. Settling to just allow her to get it all out, and coo encouraging words to her; repeatedly stating how much he loved and appreciated her efforts.

Eventually, she calmed, hiccuping, relaxing in his hold. Saeyoung didn’t cease his soft words until her breathing even out, and he was positive she was fast asleep in his arms. The hacker held her tightly to himself rocking slighting as he buried his face in her hair. Nari’s scent was so soothing to him. The hacker held her close, just wanting to feel her warmth next to him, as he drew in deep breaths attempting to calm his nerves. First the article then the call from Saeran, it was too much of a convenience for him not to know they are related.

With care not to wake the slumbering doctor, Saeyoung gathered her in his arms and made his way toward their bedroom. Gentle the hacker laid her on the bed, tucking the blanket up and around her. Seven took a moment to just look at her, noticing every detail of her face. He would never get over how beautiful this woman was, and how precious she was too him. Then the bitter taste of jealousy left him groaning. She was also precious to his other half, he made that clear today during the brief phone call…

Saeyoung once believed he’d give up or sacrifice anything for his younger brother, but standing there looking at the relaxed and peaceful expression on his girlfriends face… That just wasn’t the case anymore. The hacker now had someone else in his life he’d do anything for. Even give his own life to protect. Saeyoung felt so internally torn, he didn’t know whether he wanted to scream or cry- mostly likely both. Biting harshly on his tongue, tasting copper, the redhead made his way out of the room. Upon carefully shutting the door behind him his eyes lifted to see a rather annoyed Vanderwood staring back at him.

“I heard crying.” The older man muttered and Luciel offered him a weak smile in return.

“Nari’s had a hard night…” The hacker explained turning to walk away from the older agent when a hand cupped his shoulder promptly turning the redhead around.

“Don’t give me that crap Seven. There is something bigger going on, and it’s getting to the point I can’t just simply ignore it.” Vanderwood snapped in a hushed tone, not wanting to wake the distressed woman the room right beside him.

“It’s RFA matters.” The hacker stated turning back around and made his way towards his workroom.

Luciel groaned flopping in front of his computer as Vanderwood stalked in behind him. After the events that just unfolded, dealing with this was the last thing he wanted. The hacker took to ignoring his ‘visitor’ and started working his way into the agencies system. With Saeran still at large, but indeed alive he couldn’t waste much more time. That, and Nari was still largely at risk the longer the remained idle. Skilled and well-trained fingers flew across the keyboard creating a symphony of taping.

Vanderwood leaned against the wall watching as the younger hacker worked, feeling annoyed he was being purposely ignored. Saeyoung had been working on other things, and with the commotion earlier, the eldest agent felt a sense of impending doom for all three of them. Which would be a shame, but the woman had been innocent in all of this. A simple girl caught up with the wrong people and it would ultimately lead to her demise. “Get your shit together, Zero Seven,” Vanderwood muttered, and the sound of type ceased.

“Don’t you think I’m trying?” Seven countered turning his chair to face his handler. “That I’m not stressed enough with the safety of everyone, that everything is literally riding on me and my abilities.” He snapped turning a sharp at Vanderwood. “Remember what the agency taught us, you get scared, you get tired, and you ultimately die. Well, I’m trying my darndest to keep myself from feeling scared.”

Vanderwood just stood there listening to the youngers words carefully. “I’m here aren’t I?” the older agent countered returning the sharp gaze the hacker was currently shooting him. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe you could pull this off.”

“You both put too much faith in me.” Saeyoung hissed turning back to his computer typing with fever. He was making it perfectly clear that this conversation was over. Vanderwood snarled a little but left the room all the same knowing that when he was in a mood it was best to just let him stew in it.

Luciel sighed covering his face with his hands as he heard the door click behind him. He was feeling so overwhelmed with the new turn of events… He realized he truly was scared and was sure that this wasn’t going to end well for any of them. Reluctantly he opened the file Saeran had sent him about his father, debating if this was what he should be pursuing over the agency for now. “Kind of wished cloning was a thing.” The hacker mused to himself knowing he’d have to do both jobs simultaneously. Popping his shoulder, he got himself prepared for the days of work ahead of him.

Nari woke to feel rather cold and more drained than when she went to sleep. She tossed over to the other side of the bed to realize her hacker was nowhere to be found. Cracking an eye open she looked around the room in front of her. Really looking for any sign of him, and finding none. Sighing she sat up rubbing her eyes reaching for her phone off the bedside table, to check the time. The doctor groaned realizing she had slept in much later than intended and was curious about why a certain grumpy agent hadn’t attempted to wake her for their morning training. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed Nari made her way towards the bathroom she shared with her red-haired boyfriend and started the morning routine.

Freshly showered, wearing something to combat the heat, Nari finished by tieing her hair back. Looking in the mirror she could see how long it had been since she had been to the salon, bangs no long across her forehead, but tamed more to the left side. As for the rest, it had always been long in length and didn’t really take any more care than usual. Deeming herself ready for whatever the day decided to throw at her, Nari left the bedroom.

Carefully she let herself into Saeyoung’s workroom just to check on him, not really intending to disturb the man bobbing his head to the music on his headphones, writing script she had no chance of understanding. Nari sighed realizing he never did make it back to bed with her last night and was working. Chewing on the inside of her cheek she turned on her heel leaving her boyfriend to continue whatever was holding his attention. Quietly she shut the door behind her. Taking a moment to rest her back against it, trying to stop the overflowing worry seeding itself to the pit of her stomach.

After a few minutes, her head stopped feeling like it was swimming, and she slowly made her way down the stairs, looking at a busy Vanderwood as she made her descend. The older agent looked busy preparing some food, looking like he had just awakened himself. That was curious though, as the man was usually awake that the crack of dawn. Nari waltzed herself into the kitchen planting herself down on the island, observing the cooking man before her.

“We’ll take a break today… It sounded like you had a rough night.” He explained stirring whatever was in the pot.

With a flush blooming along her cheeks Nari cleared her throat with embarrassment that he had heard her crying the night before. “I’m sorry if I kept you up… I wasn’t really in a good place.” She explained as casually as she could manage, not wanting to seem weak in front of her coach.

“It’s fine, uh…. Seems the kid is still a mess though.” The older agents comment made Nari avert her eyes up toward the room her hacker god was hauled up in working away.

“I’d be more worried if he wasn’t… I know you don’t exactly know what's going on- or what that scene last night was… But please know that he is trying.” Nari tried to reason with her loves handler. She knew she couldn’t explain, that he would have to stay in the dark until Saeyoung deemed it okay. “Just don’t give up on him.”

Vanderwood sighed turning to face the woman defending his partner. “You sure are too good for him.” He mused out loud looking her over debating on what to say next. “Fine, I suppose it’s too late to turn back now anyway.” He agreed to move to collect some plates, while Nari moved to help him with their food.

[fluffyfluffemz]

Courage Bloopers 3

Note: If you’ve been following the story on Wattpad or AO3 these will be spoilery

[Context: Thalia has been overworking herself practicing her swordsmanship. She has a bandaged hand because of blisters]

“Thalia.” Rurumu called her name, jerking her back to attention. “Name one reason why a person needs to counter their hard work with periods of rest.”

Thalia blinked, scrambling to recall any of the information from the lecture. “The… um.. human body isn’t designed to work nonstop?”

“And what are the consequences of pushing your body too hard for an extended period of time?” Rurumu asked sternly.

Thalia shrank in her chair, embarrassed she couldn’t recall the answer. She glanced up at Sinbad for help, and realized he was studying her with a pensive expression. Whatever was going on in his head, he didn’t seem to know the answer, so she shifted her silent pleas to Ja’far.

“Diminished attention span, exhaustion, health problems, injury, and decreased lifespan,” Ja’far mercifully interjected, looking at her pointedly. Thalia guiltily avoided his eyes, knowing he was trying to tell her she’d been working herself too hard.

Rurumu slowly turned away from Thalia to thank Ja’far for his contribution. “You may want to write that down, Thalia.”

Thalia picked up her pen to take notes, wincing as it rubbed against her bandages.

“I think we’ll end our lesson here for today,” Rurumu announced, looking to Thalia. “Will you stay behind for a moment? I’d like to talk to you.”

“You’re in trouble,” Sinbad teased, ruffling her hair as he passed by. “Rurumu chop!” He made a chopping motion in the air and Ja’far covered his forehead reflexively, despite clearly not being in the range of Sinbad’s attack.

Rurumu gave the boys stern looks as they left and closed the door behind them. When she turned to Thalia, her face was gentle.

“I think it’s great that you’re practicing so hard,” the matronly giantess hedged, eyes fixed on Thalia’s bandaged hand, “but maybe you should take a break.”

“It’s fine,” Thalia assured her. “I just need to toughen up.”

Rurumu sighed.

“You’re only sixteen, Thalia. It’s okay if you act your age sometimes. Sinbad too. You’re both so focused on your goals, sometimes I worry you’re missing out on the big picture.”

Thalia cradled her hand tenderly.

“What is the big picture?”

“Your happiness.” Rurumu placed a giant hand on her shoulder. “Don’t put your life on hold until it’s too late.”

Thalia clenched her fists, causing her injured palm to scream with pain.

Eyes on the floor, she said, “I can be happy once I’ve reclaimed Attica and killed the man responsible for its downfall.”

Rurumu’s lips pulled together as her hand slipped from Thalia’s shoulder.

[Context: Ja’far told Thalia to take a break from her paperwork because he caught several mistakes. After eating with Drakon and Masrur, she goes to Sinbad’s office]

Now that she had been banned from her paperwork, she wandered to Sinbad’s office, hovering over his shoulder obnoxiously, the way he often did to her. The longer he ignored her, the more she invaded his personal space.

He finally chuckled as she rested her chin on his slouching shoulder.

“Did you finish your work already?”

“Something like that,” she sighed. “So can I get off early?”

The grin that was spreading across his face triggered Thalia’s suspicions. He was about to assign her extra work. She could already sense it.

“I want you to rearrange part of the showroom,” he told her, holding out a piece of parchment. “These are the new plans. Can you handle it?”

Thalia accepted the new floor plans for the showroom, her reluctance increasing as she studied it.

“I’m going to have to move that big table,” she complained. “It’s heavy. Why can’t things stay the way they are?”

“Now, Thalia,” he tutted, twisting to face her. “This new set up will maximize our profits. If you’re too tired to do it, maybe I’ll put Sharrkan on it instead. You two have a lesson tonight, right? He’s still new. It will take him a while to figure out what he’s doing. It’d be a shame if that cut into your training time.”

Thalia narrowed her eyes, bringing the plans to her stomach protectively. This was either blackmail or coercion. She wasn’t sure which, but she was pretty sure it was unethical.

“Where would one go to report her unreasonable boss if he owns the company?” She inquired. “I’m asking for a friend.”

“I want that move done by dinner time,” he told her, shooing her out of the room.

“Tyrant,” she muttered, closing the door behind her.

[Context: After doing the task assigned to her with the help of Hinahoho, Thalia  goes to her sword practice as usual]

As he left the showroom, she began the process of placing the fixtures of jewelry on the table. By the time she finished, her stomach was growling. She headed to the dining hall, where she joined Dinarzade at a table, much to the lament of her other friends across the room.

Dinarzade looked up from her food and smiled.

“What brings you over to this neck of the woods?”

Thalia plopped into the seat next to her with a loud sigh.

“They’re driving me crazy,” she complained. “They keep telling me I need to slow down, take a break, and stop working so hard.”

Dinarzade shifted uncomfortably. 

“You have been working really hard.”

Thalia stabbed her fork into her meat violently.

“Are you going to tell me to take a break too?” 

Dinarzade quickly shook her head.

“I’ll admit I don’t like it,” she confessed, pushing her food around on her plate, “But I’m sure there’s nothing I could say that hasn’t already been said.”

Thalia smiled, happy that she wasn’t about to receive another lecture.

“Besides,” Dinarzade continued, “I heard a rumor someone’s been watching you practice every night.” Dinarade gave her a sly grin.

“What do you mean?” Thalia asked immediately before stuffing a piece of chicken into her mouth. Who would watch her practice? Thalia tried to think. Her friends were all so busy. She doubted it could be any of them. A thought occurred to her. “It’s not that creepy guy from accounting, is it?”

Dinarzade snorted. “Salman is harmless. It’s not him.”

“Then who?” Thalia demanded of her tittering friend.

Dinarzade smiled mysteriously. “I value my job too much to tattle. Besides, you should find out on your own soon enough.”

Thalia choked on her drink. When her coughing fit died down, she asked, “Wait, is it someone that high up? Someone who can fire you?”

Dinarzade stood up and left, keeping her lips firmly sealed, despite Thalia’s pleas. 

Thalia stewed in annoyance. Dinarzade never withheld juicy information. Just how far up the ranks was this person? Thalia crammed down the rest of her meal impatiently. She couldn’t believe some creep had been spying on her every night. 

She finished her own food and returned her plate before meeting Sharrkan outside for their lesson.

Sharrkan barraged her with his usual attacks, but she grew out of breath quickly today. He stopped, watching her hunch over and pant after just a few minutes of sparring.

“If you want to take a couple days off, we can do that you know,” Sharrkan hinted.

“I want to keep practicing.”

He shook his head.

“No. You’re not going to make any progress like this. Take tonight off.”

“But I can keep going!” she called after him. He ignored her, walking in the direction of the men's’ dormitory.

___

Thalia huffed. She didn’t need him. She could practice her swings without him. Willing herself into an upright position, she raised her sword. The anger flowing through her blood fueled her. One jab would go into the hearts of the men who’d tried to assault her. One slice would sever the head of the man who’d lead an army against her people. One swing would cut in half the woman who’d enslaved and tortured her. One hack and the man who’d raped her would never be able to lay another hand on a woman. She would never be powerless again.

Then, without warning, the rage induced fervor that had been powering her for weeks dissipated. She had reached her breaking point. No longer able to support her own weight, much less the sword, she collapsed in the middle of the empty courtyard, tears spilling down her cheeks.

The sound of footsteps alerted her to another presence. So the creep had showed up after all. She rushed to wipe her face dry before a pair of sturdy arms lifted her off the ground. She did not bother to look at his face. She recognized the scent of the ocean. It was Sinbad. He was the creep who’d been watching her practice. She should have been angry at him for invading her privacy, but there was no anger left in her body.

“You’ve really had everyone worried.” he told her. 

“Creep,” she responded dully, keeping her eyes fixated on the green button holding his shirt closed.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’ve been watching me from the shadows like some creep.”

He laughed heartily, causing her shoulder to bounce against his chest. “Some girls would find it romantic.”

Thalia snorted derisively. “Tyrant. Why would I find anything about you romantic?”

For Thalia, romance was nothing more than a pipedream. She wrapped her arms around his neck, mulling over the memories that had recently resurfaced. Now that she was older, she understood her mother’s sorrow at losing the love of her life. Living without him had been painful even a decade after his death. Thalia’s own love for Serendine had been answered with pain and betrayal. She saw now how her childish fantasies about fighting alongside a person she loved had been nothing more than just that. She saw now the cautionary messages in those tales she’d been told as a child. Paris had started a war over Helen, dragging his country into what would be its downfall. Morpheus had been so enraptured with his wife, when he’d tried to save her from hell, he’d looked back, the one thing he had been told explicitly not to do, and caused her to be lost for all eternity. Love brought nothing but destruction. It was a form of madness.

But Thalia had always had a streak of madness in her.

He hummed knowingly in her ear. “You say that, but I think you’re warming up to me.”

She closed her eyes, leaning against his chest and listening to the calming thrum of his heartbeat. “You don’t have to worry about that. I know where we stand.”

“Do you?” he mused. “I’m not so sure. I don’t think you even know where you stand.”

“I do,” she protested sleepily, her eyes drooping. She would never fall for him. She just needed him for her country. That was the only reason she wanted to marry him. Everything she was doing was for Attica and its people.

Thalia promised herself she would never love again— not him, not anyone.

He sighed. “I was hoping having you move all that furniture would wear you out and you would skip your lesson tonight. It looks like it did half the job, but you’re so stubborn. I should have known a little fatigue wouldn’t stop you.”

She nodded to show she was listening.

“Take tomorrow off,” he commanded. “You don’t have to stay in bed all day, but I don’t want to see you working. I’m also taking your sword.”

She didn’t argue.

“I’ll give it back soon, I promise.”

“Okay.”

He was right about her needing a break. All her friends had been right, but she had refused to listen.

When they reached her room, she felt the curious stares of her roomates all around her. She imagined Dinarzade’s enthusiasm at this development was almost audible. Sinbad gave them a stern look, and they all looked away.

He gently placed her in her bed, but did not pull back immediately. Instead, he brushed a hair out of her face, seemingly deep in thought. He straightened back up and addressed the rest of the room. “Anyone that sees Thalia working tomorrow is to report directly to me, do you understand?”

The other girls nodded as Thalia stewed in humiliation.

“Goodnight, Ladies,” Sinbad told them with a charming wink.

Thalia grew irritated as the girls around her swooned at his playboy antics. She glanced at Dinarzade and scowled as her friend turned bright pink.

Sinbad turned his attention back to her, smirking. “What’s with that sour expression? You’re not jealous, are you?”

Thalia raised the covers over herself, narrowing her eyes at him. “Not really. It’s just fascinating to see the Lady Killer of the Seven Seas in his natural habitat— like a wolf among sheep.”

He chuckled. “I see you still have enough energy to talk back. Goodnight, Thalia.”

“Night, Sin,” she muttered, laying down and closing her eyes.

Jealousy… it’s not like she had never experienced it when it came to Sinbad, but maybe it was normal, even for friends. After all, he was very attractive. If some other girl came along and stole him away, he might have less time for her, and if that happened, what would she do? She wrapped her arms around her pillow, hugging it to her chest as her mind faded out of consciousness. 

[Context: I don’t really remember but it’s Dinarzade’s POV]

Dinarzade’s eyes swept over the dining hall, tuning out the cloud of tiny, bright birds that accumulated with so many people in one place. She had always been able to see these birds of light fluttering in the word around her. Her mother, Lamia, had once called them the rukh, and had been able to use them to do amazing things, but Dinarzade didn’t have that ability. Her mother had said it was for the best. According to Lamia, being a magician was a curse above all else.

Dinarzade’s mother, Lamia, hailed from a place called Musta’sim, but had fled persecution there for a better life in Reim, the country with a great sorceress. In Reim, she had sworn off magic, never sufficiently convinced that Reim was safe from the kind of exploitation she’d been subjected to in her former country. With no skills outside of magic, Lamia eeked out a living washing dishes. 

Lamia met Dinarzade’s father, Argento, when he’d rescued her from a gang of thugs. Dinarzade had heard the story hundreds of times growing up. It had been true love at first sight. Together, they’d had five children, even though they couldn’t afford it. After all, the herbs to prevent pregnancy were beyond the means of most impoverished couples. If Lamia had been willing to use her powers for her family, maybe they could have afforded to own a house and eat regularly, but rather than break the illusion of normalcy she’d created, Lamia had decided to sell Dinarzade after one of her siblings had fainted from hunger twice in a week.

“You’re the oldest, and your siblings are counting on you, Dina. Use your curse to keep out of trouble, but never let anyone know what you can see.”

“ Don’t let them know what you can see,” had been a constant refrain growing up, and Dinarzade had heeded her mother’s warnings. She hadn’t uttered a word to a soul, not even to Thalia. Dinarzade’s eyes landed on an agitated, dark grey mass of rukh in the crowd of white. 

Dinarzade didn’t know what the dark rukh meant, but ever since they’d been freed from slavery, the cloud surrounding Thalia had slowly dimmed as her bright rukh changed color one by one.

Thalia’s rukh’s agitated fluttering swelled into a frenzy, reaching in the direction of the door,, and Dinarzade knew Sinbad must be nearby. Dinarzade had noticed it from the moment she’d laid eyes on Sinbad carrying Thalia back from the amphitheater— at least, after the initial shock of seeing someone with rukh in such ridiculous concentrations as Sinbad had died down. Sinbad’s rukh had an affect on Thalia’s, drawing her in... (I never finished this scene)

[niibeth]

reversed romance

This story is based on the discussions of ABO-verse in @solohux journal. I remember that a prompt was about alpha-Hux saving omega-Matt from troopers and I thought – what if Techie saved him instead?

(Story is mostly under the cut, due to mentions of sex and violence and general uncertainty - I can’t evaluate my own texts, when they are in English)

...

Techie loves to watch old holofilms. The most sultry and naïve romances. For example, the one where a young, virginal, dainty omega from a noble family chooses between two alphas. One is Evil and one is Virtuous, but Omega is rather stupid, so they do not find out the truth until the end of the film. The truth is easy to find – Evil alpha always wears the ugliest moustache in the galaxy (females have pointed brows, designed evidently by the same person). And good alpha is as clean shaven as general Hux himself… To cut a story short, bad Alpha kidnaps the hapless omega, good one comes to rescue, and afterwards they ride to the sunset and live happily ever after in a big house full of pups. What happens between the ride and the pups is shown in the other kind of films, that Techie prefers not to watch.

Alphas of his type, if there is a type – small and weak – are never shown in the movies, even among the Bad ones. Well, he surely can’t grow a proper Evil moustache. He tried once and was disgusted by the result. Not that he is going to kidnap or save some pure omega. Thanks to hormonal drugs, he doesn’t have to embarrass himself.

Starkiller disaster made everyone work more shifts and cut the supplies. He can’t get his prescription now. He tries to stay away from humans as much as possible, eats in his room and visits communal shower only in the dead hours. Well, he’d prefer not to visit it at all, but he hates the feeling of dirty hair now, when he has his hygiene in control.

This night he hasn’t gone far, when he heard suspicious noise ahead. Something (soon he understood what it was) made him step forward instead of turning back. Three troopers got somebody cornered. Between their armors he recognized a slightly familiar figure. Torn green overalls, bright tousled hair, broken glasses on the floor. Matt. Techie saw his name in the list of disciplinary cases and a list of suppressant-buyers. Massive figure, striking features, aggressive behavior – a conclusion was easy. Sometimes he wondered idly, why that alpha hides – many would like to be his partners, probably (if the gossip does not lie) even among the higher command.

Matt moans and curses, and Techie realizes his mistake. Uncommon looking omega is torn between the instinct that tells him to keep undressing and a rational part of his mind that advises him to tear anybody who nears in half. But in that state and against three troopers… Techie’s own instinct now shouts to him that he is a powerful giant, whose steps can melt the durasteel floor. His rational mind promises him that he will be soon lying on that floor with a broken nose and bleeding kidneys, at least.

Still, he asks:

- What’s going on here?

- Look, who’s asking!

Luckily, he remembers the number of the nearest trooper.

- Oh, you! Do your friends know, that your odds at cards beat the statistic possibility?

- What does that mean? - says one of the troopers, probably not a gambler.

But the second understands him perfectly.

- Kriff! And I thought – I owe you!

- You still owe me, fool.

- No, now I don’t!

- Hey, guys, stop, stop that shit.

- I remember you too, - Techie wedges in, - The program listed you as a possible cheater after the tests, but then the results were altered manually…

Third trooper steps forward menacingly, but the smarter second one catches his hand and pools his comrade away.

- Crazy tech. Don’t want to hear, what he knows about me. Let’s leave him with the troubled fucker.

They leave him with the omega, who’s skin glistens with sweat and breath is heavy. Techie painstakingly chooses between the alternatives. Take him to medbay? No way, too far. Call the meds here? What would they say? Literally “Screw you”, probably. They are overworking as everyone else, and heat is not an emergency.

- Where is your room? Hey? Matt?

- No, no, not there. It is communal.

Fuck.

- Ok. Come with me, then.

Omega stands up on shaking legs and reaches for Techie’s hand. Pressure of a strong hand seems to electrocute him for a moment. They walk together like two drunks, leaning against each other and Techie fights the urge to bite into that shoulder. Bite him, push him to the wall – his brain screams. He can barely manage to open the door.

Inside the things gets worse.

- Please, sit.

Omega almost crushes on his messy bed. Techie retreats to a farthest corner of the room, still searching for a mental way out. Breath exercises? Meditation? His clothes feel heavy like an armor. Omega’s moans and attempts in undressing don’t help.

- Alpha, please, come back.

Techie reluctantly comes near. Soft brown eyes, certainly, see someone else on his place, but he surrenders to them, still waiting for a shout, a punch, a rejection. Omega hugs him, clings to him, they clumsily get undressed. Big warm hands lovingly travel up and down his back. Matt is even more beautiful up close and he smells like apples and sun. Techie licks the side of his neck, corner of his lips. Their noses bump and then Omega catches his lips, pulls him close, parts his legs, guides Techie’s hand down. - Please, please… And very soon the mating is over. Techie lies on top of his partner and tries to remember what has he read about the knotting in the dull First Order sex-ed manual. Matt sighs.

- I’m sorry. I can try to retract, but it can hurt us both.

- It’s ok.

- I’m sorry.

- Why?

- I forgot about protection.

- It’s my problem. I can go to medbay afterwards.

- I can go with you…

- Want to be sure I don’t make you a father? Relax, alpha.

- I’m not… I’m not against pups. I will care. About them. And you.

Omega suddenly buries his face in Techie’s shoulder and whispers in a lower voice then his usual:

- Alpha brags: I will make you full of pups. And puts on the protection. Alpha says: I will fill you to the brim. And sends you to medbay to get rid of it later. What's wrong with you?

- I’m not… Um, by the way, I’m Techie.

- Nice to meet you, Techie. I’m Matt.

Techie rises a little to see Omega's face, and sees that he smiles through the tears.

- I, um, have seen you before. And, like I said, I’m not against pups. And I think we can date. After. After your heat is over.

Matt caresses his hair.

- Sure. Let’s do it.

 One year later.

It’s Techie’s turn to watch after the small one. The child decided to change its sleeping pattern again – now she has several 20-minutes naps. So, Techie’s hope to sleep during one of the longer naps crumble, 20 minutes pauses are not enough to do anything useful and he feels completely wasted. Room is a mess, no work done. He surrenders, sits on the couch and turns on one of his favorite romantic movies. Baby is not interested in the story, but is happy to use father as an exercise polygon. Techie only should catch her every several minutes not to let her fall.

A kiss wakes him up. Matt’s lips are so warm, his smell after the day of work is so intense… Then Techie panics. Where is the little one!

- Hush. I put her to bed. You both slept so sweetly when I came.

- Have you eaten? I don’t have anything...

Matt sits closer and hugs him

- Hey. We have a pair of hours. I don’t think about food right now.

Techie turns to nib at Matt’s ear.

- Let’s start then, I have an early shift tomorrow, - he says.

[codename-bewareofthefangirl]

Konnichiwa! May you get the marks you desire, can I ask for a ficlet? AoKawa with the #11 dialogue? ^-^ I need some rareship hell to get into, see?

Hi dear! You can’t even understand how happy you mademe with this ask! I can’t even express it! Obviously, I’m also very anxiousbecause I don’t know if I pictured them as well as they’re in my mind and alsobecause I really hope you fall in love with them too. For a minute, I wanted towrite a “serious” or romantic ff, but no. I chose a funny, fluffy and crazyepisode as they are in my mind: AoKawa’s Confession. You are going to findreferences to past events because, well, they’re references to my other ideasabout their whole story that unfolds in my head!

I hope you enjoy it and start shipping them too!

 Shooting  Stars

That night, Aomine was peacefully relaxing before going to sleep, sprawled on the couch in his shared dorm apartment, when he heard his roommate leaving the bedroom. He glanced up from his Mai-chan’s magazine and found an excited Oikawa, completely dressed and with his leather jacket on, in the middle of the living room.

Now, Aomine’d had the time to learn a lot of things about that guy during those months.

First, they were made to argue with each other and they rarely found something on which they both agreed: he was a workaholic, volleyball’s lover, aliens’ maniac and brilliant student; Aomine was a lazy genius, lived for basketball, had posters of cicadas and studied just enough to pass his courses -a kind way to say he was dumb. However, they somehow had managed to adjust to each other and now they were… friends; they even hung out together in their free time, much to their own and their friends’ surprise.

Second, Oikawa was the type of guy who always seemed perfect, polite and composed outside but inside was the worst, childish, crazy, bubbling guy Aomine had ever met; at the same time, the brunet managed to be a scheming, passionate and proud player. A complex mystery Aomine wasn't sure he would ever completely understand. But, if there was something they had immediately recognized in each other, was their sports talent.

Third, he was always up to no good no matter what and, without supervision, he was bound to disturb, annoy or even harm himself or other people: a walking calamity. Unfortunately for Aomine, due to Iwaizumi’s absence, the role of supervisor had been passed to him and that was a tragedy since he couldn’t even properly take care of himself, imagine of another -sly- human being, but it had become a matter of survival.

“Where are you going?” Aomine asked Oikawa yawning, with his brows knitted. If he wanted to go practicing again then he was mistaking.

Two weeks ago, Aomine’d had to go to the gym at half-past eleven because Oikawa had entered his paranoiac phase of “not being enough” and was wearing himself out with an endless session of extra practice; he'd literally had to drag him home by force before he could hurt himself. It had happened before, but Aomine hadn't arrived in time: a worried and angry Iwaizumi, at the time out of Tokyo, had called Aomine so that he could go and bring back the injured idiot who had collapsed on the gym and couldn’t even move due to his aching knee. That had been the first time they had properly opened to each other, since Oikawa was too dejected and in need of comfort to put up any resistance against Aomine’s blunt insistence.

So, even if he had to forcefully push the boy down and tie him to the bed, Aomine wasn’t going to let him overworking himself anymore; he had enough of midnight trips to the gym to save his ass.

Oikawa pouted, probably reading his thoughts, and averted the brown eyes.

“To see the stars, you rude worrywart. As I’ve been saying all week long, ” He answered shrugging as he slipped on his shoes.

“You always talk about stars, alien and shit like that,” Aomine smirked, even if he was now recalling the brunet say something about it, “Where?” then he inquired, lowering the magazine and straightening a bit. He heard the boy huffing, but, from the sound, Aomine knew he was smiling.

“From the rooftop,” Oikawa replied blankly, with just an amused glint dancing in the eyes, but Aomine furrowed his eyebrows.

“Ah? The door to reach it's closed at night, Shittykawa,” he reminded the brunet, calling him by the nickname that Iwaizumi had officially allowed him to use.

The boy stood up and glanced at him from upon his shoulder.

“Who said I’m going to use the door, Dai-chan?”  he teased grinning widely before he opened the door and left the apartment quickly, not letting the other the time to react.

Aomine stared at the empty hallway for some seconds, then blinked slowly and finally realized what it meant.

“Fuck! That idiot!” he cursed, throwing the magazine on the couch and rushing towards the door; he put on his shoes and then tailed him outside, down the stairs and in the backyard.

As expected, he found Oikawa in the garden at the back of their complex, looking thoughtfully at the iron, folded emergency staircase hanging from the wall, midway between the earth and the roof.

“Tell me you’re joking,” Aomine grunted, reaching him with long strides. Oikawa didn’t even bother to turn, he was sure Aomine would have followed him.

“Absolutely no, it’s the only other way to the rooftop,” he explained calmly, trying to understand if he could really reach the first step by jumping as higher as he could, and then use his weight to pull down and unfold the stairs. He had thought it was a perfect plan, but now that he saw closely the stairs, he was starting to doubt it.

“Can’t you look at the stars from the garden?” grumbled Aomine, exasperated by the brunet's antics, putting his hands in the jeans’ pockets. It was still a chilly night, even if the sky was clear. Part of him just wanted to turn on his heels, go back on the couch and resume enjoying his Mai-chan magazine; the other weak-willed part was mocking him because he damn knew that, lately, he just couldn’t leave Oikawa alone.

Oikawa looked at him wide-eyed as if he had just said a blasphemy.

“Tonight, it'll be possible to see shooting stars, Dai-chan. You don’t watch shooting stars from a small, badly illuminated garden,” he explained slowly, as if he was talking to a dumb child, and Aomine felt the usual desire to punch his pretty face.

“Shooting stars?” he opted to say instead, rolling his eyes.

“Exactly. If you manage to see one, one of your wishes will come true,” Oikawa bubbled excitedly, taking some steps back and scrunching his nose in concentration as he tried to measure the approximate distance. Yes, maybe he could do it.

“And what wish is worth a broken leg?” Aomine mocked him, glancing amusedly at his movements. That was going to be such a failure.

“That’s a secret, Dai-chan!” he smirked allusively, winking at him. Aomine snorted, shaking his head, and decided to let him fail in peace and then bring back the corpse.

Oikawa took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and when he reopened them, he wore the focused expression of the determined setter he was. The first thing about Oikawa that had struck Aomine and made him regret Oikawa didn’t play basketball.

The brunette took the same run-up he used when serving; crouching like a cat, he elegantly moved forward and then suddenly spread his arms like wings; he jumped high, hands stretching towards his aim.

But he missed the step, slamming face-on against the wall, and fell backwards on his butt.

Aomine burst into a loud, animal laughter that echoed in the garden.

“Shut up!” Oikawa whined, still laying on the ground.

Aomine was laughing too hard to help him, a pity he hadn't recorded it.

Oikawa, blushing furiously, stood up and brushed his pants, trying to find again his dignity.

“I’m not going to surrender,” He pouted, lifting his chin, and returned to his initial position.

“You can’t do it,” Aomine said chuckling, watching him running and slamming into the wall again.

At the third failed attempt, Aomine thought that now they could return home; maybe, to comfort his hurting pride, he would let Oikawa watch one his aliens movies with some ice cream, only for that night. Maybe.

But as always, Oikawa never ceased to surprise him.

He returned to his spot, but instead of running, he analyzed carefully the wall. An evil grin spread across his face.

“Dai-chan,” he called sweetly and shivers ran down Aomine’s spine, “Who lives on the second floor?” he asked pointing his index at the balcony near the staircase.

The other tilted his head, perplexed.

“Uh? Why do you need to-” the boy started saying when the sudden realization hit him, “Fuck no,” he roared, glaring menacingly at him.

Oikawa pouted, crossing his arms.

“Come on, Dai-chan!”

“I’m not going to ask our neighbors to let you use their balcony to jump on the stairs,” He refused, rubbing his temples, and Oikawa gave him a death look.

“Party-pooper,” he murmured disappointed, reaching the wall and standing exactly under the stairs, frustrated. He just wanted to see his shooting stars.

Oh no, the dejected look. Fuck, Aomine was weak.

Oikawa heard the other guy sigh and growl something, and thought he had run out of patience for that night and was going to drag him inside or, worst, abandon him there. Instead, Aomine finally reached him, scratching his neck both out of annoyance and embarrassment; he already knew that was going to be a bad idea.

“You’re really a child,” his roommate complained and Oikawa blushed even more, offended.

“Said the guy who asks my help to stuAAAA-“ Oikawa’s words melted in a loud screech as Aomine suddenly bent, grabbed him by the knees and lift him up.

“Shut up! You are waking up everyone!” Aomine hissed, face pressed against Oikawa’s tights, “We shouldn’t even be here.”

“What are you doing?” Oikawa panicked, swinging back and forth in his arm, in a precarious equilibrium.

“I help you to reach your stupid stairs,” And he was the dumb one, “Stand steady.”

Finally, Oikawa calmed down and straightened properly, soft giggles escaping his lips.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?”

“I wish that was true,” He replied in a low, annoyed but amused voice. And maybe, sometimes, he truly wanted to go back as it was before meeting the brunet, but it wasn’t possible anymore. He had fallen too deep.

“You softie,” Oikawa laughed petting his blue hair and he snorted.

“You're heavy, Oikawa. Move your ass.”

“First, I still can't reach it,” he pointed out, “Second, I'm not heavy.”

“You shrimp,” Aomine pinched his tight, making his squirming, and growled, “Put your hands on the wall.”

“I’m average height, tall even. It’s you who’s huge!” the brunet whined, puffing his cheeks, but did as he was told.

Aomine didn’t bother answering and slowly moved his hands under Oikawa’s feet. That was dangerous, but he trusted the player’s good reflexes.

“Alright, when I push you up, grab the step. Try not to fall, I’m not bringing you to the hospital,” he warned and Oikawa rolled his eyes.

“You rude guy. You’re going to see how amazing I am,”  he boasted, glancing fiercely at the stairs, “You let me go and move back immediately,” he added and the boy nodded.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” Oikawa replied with a smirk and Aomine pushed him up with all his strength.

Incredibly, everything worked out. Oikawa grabbed the step and Aomine moved out of the way before the stairs unfolded with a loud, crashing, metallic noise. The brunette landed safely on the ground and staggered. Aomine instinctively caught his arm to prevent him from falling.

Both looked at the stairs, the horrible noise still echoing, and then exchanged a horrified glance.

“Move, before they find us,” Aomine growled and shoved him forward.

“You don’t need to tell me,” Oikawa snickered, starting to climb in a hurry. He heard Aomine following him and a small smile blossomed on his lips. That idiot didn’t even like the stars.

 When they finally reached the rooftop, Oikawa emitted an excited and enthusiastic exclamation, bouncing around and spinning on himself with arms wide open. Aomine just stared at him, the corner of his lips curling up.

“See? It was worth it!” Oikawa told him, gesturing Aomine to join him in the middle of the rooftop.

“Yeah…” the other muttered, averting his gaze from him. Damn, he could see more stars in Oikawa’s eyes than in the sky.

They sat down together, in silence. Oikawa brought his knees to the chest, hugging them, and stared at the sky with a content, awe-struck smile. Without Aomine telling anything, he started listing name of the constellations and pointing them out for him, who merely nodded and followed his finger.

It had passed more than half an hour when Oikawa stopped his rambling to breathe.

“You’re not even listening, Dai-chan!” Oikawa sounded more giddy and amused than offended; he was already surprised that Aomine had followed him and remained silent.

“I’m,” the boy objected with an unusual quietness, but his eyes were locked on him instead of the sky.

Oikawa blushed under his stare, realizing that he couldn’t tell when his roommate had started watching him; a sort of soft warmth and resolution bubbled in his stomach.

He fidgeted, clasping more tightly his knees, and then mumbled something.

“Uh?” Aomine frowned, but Oikawa buried the face in his arms.

“I said I’m cold," he whispered a little louder, without his usual whining tone.

Silence.

“I told you it was still too cold to wear that jacket, idiot,” Aomine instantly blurted, bringing back a conversation about Oikawa’s clothes they had during the week.

The brunette's head perked up and he grimaced, glaring hard at him.

“You Ahomine!” He cursed, standing up with flaming cheeks, “You have just lost your chance to be a gentleman!” he hissed before moving to sit a bit further, showing the boy his back

Aomine laughed, enjoying the embarrassment and the dorky side of Oikawa, who whispered some more insults at him; then, in his slow-paced, feline way, he stood up too and walked towards him.

“I don’t need some cheesy, drama’s lines to be romantic,” he smirked, making Oikawa roll his eyes, “I can do better,” he murmured alluringly.

Catching Oikawa by surprise, he fell seated behind him and, before the boy could react, wrapped his arm around his waist; he pulled Oikawa against his chest and caged him between his legs.

“This is warmer…” he whispered in his ear, brushing against the earlobe with his lips.

Oikawa blinked once, twice and then burst into laughter.

“Wh-What are you laughing at?” Aomine pulled away from him, offended, but Oikawa leaned back again in his arms, covering his mouth with a hand to muffle the spontaneous laugh that bubbled from his throat.

“That was so damn embarrassing, Dai-chan!” he giggled with shining eyes and red cheeks.

“Shut up,” Aomine growled again, as the shame started to kick in, and buried his face in the crook of Oikawa’s neck.

“Good confession,” The brunet playfully mocked him.

“Who says I’m confessing?” Aomine replied.

“You are confessing,” Oikawa repeated in a quite menacing way and Aomine immediately corrected himself.

“I’m confessing,” he assured with a snort.

“Nobody is gonna believe me,” Oikawa sighed happily, thinking of Iwaizumi and Kise’s faces after would tell them about Aomine’s cheesiness.

“Don’t you even try to.”

Oikawa giggled again, caressing lightly his short, blue hair.

“This is your punishment for making me feel stupid and hopeless before,” he accused, poking his cheek.

“It’s just too fun messing with you,” Aomine replied with a smirk, “And why did you think I would follow you here, if not for this reason? And don’t answer “stars”, I don’t give a damn,” Aomine reassured him in that brusque and rash way of his.

“So rude, I love stars,” Oikawa whined, but was still smiling, “And you should have done this before.," he complained, gazing at his beloved sky.

“That wouldn’t have been fun. You’re cute when you’re hopeless. And damn, you tried your best to seduce me during those weeks.”

“Are you trying to make me blush?” Oikawa replied, thinking of all his “failed” attempt to understand if Aomine liked him or not. Unfortunately, his everlasting rival was a big breasted idol. Not the easiest person to defeat.

“I’m making you blush,” Aomine corrected him, grinning slyly, and Oikawa huffed.

“Don’t play the Latin lover, cicada-guy.”

“Shut up, alien-freak.”

“Make me.”

Aomine froze, pulled a little away and stared at Oikawa, who was showing him a confident and attractive smile.

“You were waiting to say this line, weren’t you?” Aomine grunted amused, arching an eyebrow.

Oikawa smiled angelically.

“From the first time you told me to shut up.”

Aomine smiled, tilting his head, and Oikawa could only think that damn, his eyes were the same blue as the night and seemed full of stars as he looked fondly at him.

“Then I’ve made you wait too long,” Aomine answered before leaning in and finally kissing Oikawa. A bit rough as his words, a bit goofy as his personality, definitely passionate as his playing style.

Oikawa closed his eyes and grabbed Aomine’s hair to pull him closer; he had desired this for some months now. And it was stupidly embarrassing and incredibly amazing as Aomine was.

He simply loved it.

When they divided, the brunette rested against his chest with a content smile on his lips and Aomine held him tight, savoring the warmth of his body.

“Oi, Tooru,” Aomine called him, making his heart jump.

“Yes, Dai-chan?”

“What is your secret wish? Except for volleyball related things,” he specified, knowing that his love for basketball could only be compared to Oikawa’s love for volleyball.

Oikawa giggled and gave him a peck on the lips.

“Ah, it doesn’t matter anymore,” he replied sweetly, winking at him.

[sumofmanythings]

#WellnessWednesday: 10 Self-Care Practices for Busy Moms

Motherhood… it is the most rewarding job I have but it is also a job that will take every inch of my energy some days.  We pour so much into our children and families, it’s no wonder we are exhausted.  Over the years, I’ve learned that taking time to “recharge” is mandatory.   As mothers, we have to be very careful not to run on empty for too long because it can affect everyone in our household. Remember the old saying, “if momma ain’t happy…ain’t nobody happy?”  There’s truth in that.  Our loved ones depend on us for so much. We are the counselors, nurses, psychologists, the chefs, the drivers, the housekeepers, the CEO’s of our homes and so much more. We are the glue that hold our families together.  That’s a pretty busy job that requires us to constantly pour into the lives of others.  When do you take time to refill your cup?  I’ve learned over the years that I can only be the best mom I can be when my cup is full. When I’m full emotionally, spiritually, and mentally, I can pour the best of myself into the ones I love. When I’m running on empty, everyone around me suffers. 

But I’m always busy? How do I find the time?

Time can be our greatest enemy. We run around with to-do lists and overscheduled calendars and by the time we are able to rest, we fall asleep only to get back on the “hamster wheel” and start running again.  Going to sleep isn’t enough.  As mothers, we have to take time to replenish our spirits and cleanse our mental space.   I actually include my self-care practices to my daily schedule. It ensures that I will do something just for myself every single day. Most days I look at it as a special reward just for me because I had an “awesome mommy day”.  Other days, it’s my relief from those days when “motherhood was stressing me out”.  Some days, I may only have the energy for a nice detox bath after my kids have gone to sleep.  On other days, I make time to read a book for at least 30 minutes.  You have to look at your day and schedule and decide what you want to do and when to schedule it. You are your most important appointment so you should never skip it.  You matter in the lives of too many people to take your self-care lightly.  Find your time and commit to it.

I have a list of 10 things I like to do that don’t require much time but give me those necessary moments needed to refresh and recharge.

1.  DETOX BATHS

I spoke about this in my #SelfCareSunday Post a couple of days ago.  This is my alone time after my kids are asleep and on those days where I don’t want to think about anything. I just want to zone out.  Detox Baths help clear my head, relax my body and prepare me for a night of uninterrupted sleep.  Just 30-45 minutes before you go to bed.

   2.  UNPLUG

How often do you check your social media? As much as I love social media as a means to keep up with friends, family and loved ones, social media can have some negative effects.  The imagery, some of the topics of conversation and the overall distraction it causes can be overwhelming.  I unplug for a certain amount of time each day and focus on “real life”. I don’t have to respond to every update or check the trending topics several times a day. Sometimes unplugging allows you to experience real life without the distractions. 

3.  READ

It sounds so simple but it’s difficult to read books nowadays.  I remember a time when I could finish a book in two days. I’m an avid reader who loves books so I buy them constantly. I have a shelf full of books, “I’m going to read soon”.  I try to read a chapter of a book every day but I'm not always able to. Sometimesinstead of running errands on my lunch break, I go somewhere and read. If I’m not up too late taking care of things at home, I end my night reading. I may not get to read every night but I definitely try to make time a few times during the week. You could try your lunch breaks if you work or nap time if you stay at home.  Reading gives me a moment to get lost in someone else’s world.   

4.  KEEP A JOURNAL

I’ve kept a journal since I was younger. Journaling my thoughts has always been a personal release for me.  There are days when I feel so many emotions over the course of a day. Journaling allows me a personal and private safe space where I’m free to express anything that I’m feeling.  I consider it a purging. I journal my feelings, thoughts, and dreams daily. Sometimes it’s just a recap of my day. Journaling is whatever I want it to be. It also has proven emotional benefits as well. According to Psychcentral, journaling helps you to clarify your thoughts and feelings, know yourself better, reduce stress, solve problems more effectively and resolve disagreements with others. I highly recommend 10-30 minutes a day of journaling. 

5.  COLOR IT AWAY!

This is something I recently discovered after a friend gave me one as a gift. These adult coloring books are fun, relieve stress and are good for relaxation.  There is something for every mood. I’ve become partial to the adult swear words coloring book.  If I want to get out my angst and laugh a bit, I spend time coloring. It sounds strange but it’s calming! LOL! It’s a great way to relax and pass the time. 

6.  AT HOME SPA DAY

I speak frequently about taking a day of self-care. My self-care days are usually Sunday’s.   I take the day to pamper myself.  It’s something I schedule in my calendar and look forward to after a busy week and equally busy weekend.  I'll wash my hair, give myself a facial, and take a long detox bath. I'll catch up on TV shows I love, eat something I love, enjoy great wine and spend the day resting and gearing up for the week. Sunday's are "mommy days".  These at home spa days aren’t expensive as there are plenty of items you can use that you have at home already.  If you don’t, they are fairly inexpensive to purchase.  Google some at home facial masks and detox bath recipes or check out my favorite here!

7.  TREAT YOURSELF

You are a busy mom who works hard every day for your family. You deserve moments to just treat yourself with something decadent. For me those items would be something sweet and a great wine! I'm partial to wine from Coopers Hawk (Romance Red is my favorite) and a Delicious cake from Nothing Bundt Cakes.  It’s a sweet treat for an overworked mom!

   8.  GET CUTE!

They say, when you look good, you feel good. I tend to believe this is true.  There are days when I’m so busy running my kids around to their various activities looking a mess. I tend to dress very down on those days.  When I take a little extra time to put on a little makeup or wear my hair down instead of the messy bun, I feel like the “got it together” mom (or at least I look the part…LOL).  I’ve found ways to dress casual and comfortable but still look put together at my kids sporting events and activities.

 9.  LINK UP WITH YOUR "TRIBE"

Mom’s need those safe spaces. Women who just get it.  I’m grateful to have a group of women who understand the demands of motherhood.  I don’t have to explain it because they get it.  Whether it’s a phone call, a quick lunch meet-up or a regular monthly dinner outing, it is important to reach out and connect with women who share similar experiences. On the days when you think you are the only one dealing with the craziness that motherhood brings, you will find yourself a part of a community who will help you navigate through it. 

10.  CREATE A PERSONAL RETREAT SPACE

Is your home a zoo full of people asking you for something all the time?  Do you find yourself hiding in the bathroom just for a few moments of solitude?  I don’t know a mom who doesn’t crave a space just for herself.  I’m a single mom so my sanctuary space is my bedroom.   If you are married, perhaps you can turn an extra room or office into your sanctuary.  Find a place in your house and make it off limits.  This is mommy’s space.  Put things in it that bring you joy and peace and take moments in that space when you need it.  Make sure your family knows it too! I think of it as the “time out” room when mommy needs a break. 

These are just a few of my personal self-care tips that help me on my journey in motherhood. It’s an adventure raising children and nurturing families. It’s a job that I love but I also recognize that it’s ok to want space and solitude every now and then.  Taking care of myself is an act of love and nothing I should feel guilty about.  When I take care of myself, I’m better to everyone else around me! 

What are some self-care tips you practice?

Until next time,

Take care of yourself and one another

D. Sanders