#Ive noticed so many weird takes about the new parents that can just be respond with they are new

[qtubbo]

Its weird to look at the progression of how people are treating the new parents, because at no point did I ever remember people being so critical before. I assume it’s because people have gotten so used to parents being used to their kids and knowing how to act, and just general attachment to the eggs going up. But the amount of cirticsm ive seen towards bagi, tubbo, niki, and mousy for stuff that other people have done in the past with no complaint is odd. They are new parents and constantly expecting them to be perfect is not it. Bagi’s not going to know how to comfort Em perfectly about Jaiden, Tubbo’s not going to be the perfect communicator, Tina’s not going to fully locked and loaded attentive at the get go. People just seem to constantly forget they are new, they are figuring things out.

[rogue-durin-16]

EIGHTEEN, CRAZY (Part III/?)

"Concerning Dates And Rumors II"

Summary: With her highschool experience coming to an end, Y/n finally grows tired of her parents' long lasting effort to make her the perfect girl; if they refuse to let her live her best life, she'll make them live their worst— and what can possibly be worse than having your lovely daughter mingling with Eddie Munson?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Genre: mostly fluff/fake dating

Tags:

Eighteen, crazy: @greetings-and-salutations

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, allusions to drugs, mild violence (Eddie my love I'm sorry), slut shaming

A/N: omg would you look at that? I'm actually updating this fic series. Next in line is a request, then probably the next part of this series, and then a new multipart starts. Enjoy while I go deeper into the Eddie rabbit hole my darlings <3

Prologue Part I Part II part IV

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Unsurprisingly, no attention was paid to Mr. Osman's English class, nor to Mr. Mundy's math class. As easy as it had been been to push the rumors to the back of my head, a single thought made my anxiety cripple.

People believe Eddie had punched Lewenski was bad.

It was just bad.

There were certain people who eagerly awaited for a reason to go after Eddie Munson, that was no secret.

So far, I —like many others— had simply turned a blind eye to that treatment, but this time I wouldn't be able to. I was not only actively involved in the situation; it would be entirely on me if someone decided to do anything to Eddie as some kind of vendetta regarding the previous Friday evening.

The bell rang, signalling the beginning of our cherished lunch break, and, most importantly, giving my friends the cue to torment me with questions.

"Stop." I raised my hand at them once the three surrounded me on our way out of Mr. Mundy's classroom.

"We didn't say anything!" Linda complained, throwing her hands up in the air.

"You were about to!" I snapped, spinning my head to her fast enough to give me whiplash.

"We just wanna know the truth behind all the gossip." Lizzy, who walked at the far left of our group, bent forward in order to meet my gaze.

I sighed, accommodating the books against my chest. "Okay so, he drove me to the arcade. We got a couple of weird looks but we had a good time." I pursed my lips, remembering our date.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And when's that test?" I questioned distractedly, sparing Eddie a glance. We had settled for a lonely coin-op machine at the far end of the Arcade. That way, we had our privacy as well as a good look of the scene taking place at the games room.

"Tuesday," he responded, playing with the chains on his denim jeans in an absentminded manner. "but we can study on Monday."

"You know?" I stood upright to take a better look at him. "that's why you need tutoring."

Raising his eyebrows, he lightheartedly mocked my voice. "'You know? that's why you need tutoring'. Okay, mother." I stuck my tongue out to him, which earned my shoulder a soft shove. "Stop talking about school and focus on the game."

"I suck at the game, in case you didn't notice."

"May I?"

Eddie pushed himself off the cabinet's side while I took a step back, motioning at the console with both hands for him to take my spot.

"Actually," he began, choosing to reach his hands out for mine instead of for the controllers. "Let's kill two birds in one stone."

"How?" Though my inquiry held hesitation, I let myself be led back to the front of the machine.

I prayed for Eddie not to notice the way my shoulders tensed up when he, letting go of me, circled my form to stand right behind me, his forearms nonchalantly caging me once he took the joystick in one hand and laid the other's index finger over of the buttons.

"Is this okay?" He whispered near my ear, chin resting atop of my shoulder.

"Yup." I popped the 'P', leaning back on him with folded arms in order to give him further confirmation.

"Okay so, you can't just go around like a headless chicken." He began to explain, expertise digits managing the controllers. "You wanna look where the hell these little guys are going before actually turning. Look—" He pointed at the bottom right corner of the screen. "See this little tunnels, you're gonna wanna look for them."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Then... Well, then everything kinda started to go south." I explained my attentive friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"See?" The front of Eddie's right shoulder playfully bumped my shoulder blade. Even though it was now I who was playing the game, he had remained hovering over me; it was obviously for show, but I found it oddly comforting. "Not that complicated. Leftleftleft— shit."

"Ugh!" I slammed the machine, throwing my head back in frustration.

"Woah!" His words thrummed in his chest, and were quickly followed by an surprised chuckle. "Let's try another game before you smash this one, shall we?" Eddie joked, taking a featherlight hold of my hip before propelling us both away from the cabinet. "I think you're gonna like—"

"Hey, Y/n." Eddie fell awfully silent when a boy wearing the signature Hawkins High basketball team bomber cut through the crowd to stand in our way. "Is this creep bothering you?"

After giving the boy a bewildered look, a single breathy chuckle fell from my lips "Do I know you?"

The boy looked offended for a second. "I'm Patrick McKinney. We're neighbors." When I turned to check Eddie's face and I saw his head casted down, I knew it was time to get moving.

"Alright Patrick," clearing my throat, I tapped Eddie's hand, still hanging on my side, and proceeded to move the junior out of the way. "thanks for your concerns but I'm good."

"Did he give you... anything?" He inquired, way too loud for anyone's liking but his.

"I might just ask him to do so, 'cause you're kinda giving me a headache." I spat, hooking my arm under Eddie's and leading him to the Arcade's entrance.

"That's gonna get you in trouble." Eddie pointed out, tilting his chin down for me to hear his words.

"I hope so." Only once we were crossing the establishment's front door, I let go of Eddie. "I think that's enough for tonight, though."

"Yeah, me too." The metalhead, who had been so unusually taciturn since Patrick approached us, began to loosen up, coming back to his usual self. "Sooo... Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah!" I instantly replied, a beam tugging the corners of my mouth as we walked to his van. "It was a great 'first date'." I accompanied the two last words with quotation marks.

Eddie's face lit up with a proud grin, which soon turned into a grimace when someone called his name from somewhere on the sidewalk we had just left behind.

"Wait up, Munson!" Mike Lewenski appeared jogging into our line of vision, moving to stand face to face with Eddie. "You got anything?"

"Not today, man." The long haired boy responded in a careful tone, his brown eyes searching for our mean of transport over Lewenski's shoulder.

"Oh c'mon, I'm sure you got something." The senior insisted, stepping backwards instead of moving out of the way once me and Eddie resumed our walk.

It was only then that my presence seemed to dawn on him, dangerous eyes squinted at me with his chin tilted. "Y/I/n. How come you're out and about?"

"I felt like it." I simply muttered. Something about Lewenski had always made me uneasy; the less contact I had with him, the better.

"You cleaned up good, huh?" He commented, blatantly ogling me, which pushed me to lean closer to Eddie for some kind of safety. "Wait. Is this, like, a date or something?"

Silence.

"Damn! That's how desperate you are?" He sneered. "You could've asked me."

Eddie and I shared a brief half annoyed, half concerned glance. "Okay, man, move." My so-called date requested, his right hand traveling to the small of my back while the left one dug into his pocket for the van's keys. "I'm taking the lady home."

Mike did, indeed, move, but not as it had been requested; he had taken a step forward, nearly bumping into Eddie. Whatever fear I might have had was beginning to be substituted by irritation at the boy's behavior.

Apparently, his actions had a similar effect on Eddie; with an unintelligible string of curses falling from his lips, the metalhead used his left hand to take a fistful of Lewenski's jacket and shove him aside, making him stumble to the side.

We both silently agreed on taking off to the van as fast as we could without making it seem like we were running away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"okay, yeah, he didn't punch him," Lizzy started, almost disappointed. "But technically—"

"No, he did not punch him. Period." I emphasized the negative in my statement, raising a menacing index finger at my friend without stopping to look at her. "Stop talking about that."

"You think it's gonna give him trouble?" George's concerned voice was low; he didn't want anyone else to hear. "Y'know, we should check on him after lunch." He suggested, as if he was reading my thoughts.

"Yeah." I nodded in agreement, squeezing the books out of anxiety.

"Unless... you wanna go check on him now?"

"What are you two whispering about?" Linda, who had been left behind with Liz, scuttled to fall into step with us two. "Wanna share with the class?"

"Uhm—"

"Y/n wanted to check something." George jumped in before I could voice my concern. "Why don't you two go grab a seat?" He suggested, tugging my sleeve to walk past the cafeteria entrance. "We'll be right back!"

"You have any idea of where we're going?" I questioned, once we had put some distance between our confused friends.

"I'm... Looking for one of them..." George informed me, skimming the halls with watchful eyes. "The D&D club guys."

"Good call." I began mirroring George's actions once we turned a corner. It was difficult to recognize a face you never paid attention to, but with any luck, one of them would be wearing that weird shirt. "Maybe we should—"

Slam!

My head instinctively snapped in the loud hit's direction, searching for the originator of it, but George saw it first. "Y/n." He yanked my blouse, pointing at certain long-haired lanky boy dressed in black who was being pinned to a locker by none other than Tommy H.

"HEY!"

"Y/n wait—"

Managing to escape George's protective grasp, I made my way past the crowd gathering around the two seniors. My heart missed a beat when I began to catch on Tommy's words.

"—can't go punching good people around," he gave Eddie a firm shake, making his head hit the rusty brass again. "you fucking freak, you think you'd get away with it, huh?"

Eddie's eyes and mouth were shut, and I couldn't tell if he was trying to hold back and not hit the boy who had him by the collar, or if he was genuinely scared.

"Get off him!" I took a strong hold of the younger senior's arm and yanked him back so he would face me. "What the fuck's wrong with you, Hagan?!"

"And you!" Tommy pointed an accusing finger at me. "You were the bitch who was with him last Friday!"

"Watch your mouth, asshole!" Eddie yelled earning himself another slam against the lockers on Tommy's part, who's gaze stayed fixed on me.

"Little Miss Perfect's not perfect at all, huh? Hanging out with the freak," He taunted me. "Turns out she's just another easy slut!"

I didn't give my actions much thought before slapping Tommy across the face, making the whole hall go silent. "Shut up," I warned with a rage I didn't know I could feel. "or I'll shove my heel so far up your ass that you'll have to go through surgery to get it out."

"You are threatening me?" He retorted, pushing me back hard enough for me to stumble.

"Mr. Hagan!" Ms. Kelley, guided by George, struggled to get to us, but soon enough she was taking Tommy with her to the principal's office.

Just like the ruckus had started, it came to an end.

"Jesus fuck..." Eddie groaned, crouching to grab his bag, lying on the cold floor after being forcefully discarded and emptied on the hall.

"I'm so sorry." Taking a quick step to Eddie, I blurted out the very much needed apology before anything else could come to my mind.

"You know what that was about?" He questioned, looking up from the ground.

"Someone's spreading the rumor that you... punched Lewenski at the arcade." I explained, kneeling down and placing my books on the floor in order to help him put his things back into his backpack. "I'm really sorry, Eddie, I literally found out this morning."

"To be fair," once everything was back into his bag, his eyes locked with mines. "He's just coooonstantly looking for dumb reasons to come at me. Plus," with a grunt, he got back up again, pulling his bag with him. "You wanted rumors right?"

"Yeah, but not rumors that cause you problems." I clarified, picking up my books and taking the ringed hand Eddie was offering me to aid me stand up.

"Listen, Y/n," after taking a quick peek around us, Eddie threw the bag's strap over his shoulder and stepped closer, towering over me. "First off, I really don't care. And second, we got a deal and I'm committed, alright?"

"Alright." I whispered back, trying my best not to blush at the deliberate proximity.

"Speaking of which," he finally stepped back, letting me release a breath I didn't know I was holding. "It's your turn to hold up your side of the bargain." Doing a half turn, he reached out for me to intertwin my fingers with him before he started walking, which I did.

"We can meet right after class." I suggested, letting our hands swing as we walked. It felt oddly natural, which freaked me out a little bit. "Either at the bleachers or, I don't know, the library?"

"You know that picnic table that's in the middle of the woods?" He questioned, turning the corner in the cafeteria's direction.

"Uh... The one past the football field?" He gave me a nod. "Yeah, I know where that is."

"Okay then, I'll meet you there after last period." He slowed down once we crossed the entrance and, instead of letting go of my hand, he spun to face me and bent over to place a kiss on the back of my hand, making my tummy flutter. "Enjoy your lunch, m'lady."

I could only respond with a quiet 'you too' I doubted he was able to catch while he took off to the pariahs' table.

Half of the eyes in the cafeteria were focused on my frozen frame, but I barely registered it; Eddie's hand kiss had once again shut my senses down.

God, what the hell had I gotten myself into?

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.10

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no way 

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for a surprise when her british exchange student is a little...odd. 

warnings (AYO please pay attention to these this time it’s not just swearing): swearing, underage drinking (no i do not condone this ig), beginning elements of smut but def not too explicit, i think you can consider it dubcon ?? if both people are drunk bc i don’t think you can actually consent if youre drunk (plz rest assured tho they are both 18 hehe)

a/n: “hey where did this come from” yeah so hey yall ive never written such an intense scene before but i’ve spent so much time w these characters that i decided i kind of had to. there’s no like...real sex in this and i don’t imagine that i’d describe it in this much detail if i ever decided to write it but um.. anyways. i hope y’all enjoy. thanks for suffering for this long ! i hope i’ve made it worth it 

word count: 4k

music recs: 

cloud 9 -- beach bunny

the adults are talking -- the strokes

anything from the strokes tbh 

tags ! :) @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

“Thank fucking god for the generator,” said Y/N as she flew around the kitchen, banging pots and pans together in her quest to make New Year’s Eve breakfast. Draco was sitting, unamused and completely silent, at the table. They’d been snowed in for a few days now with her parents nowhere near able to make it to the suburbs. For some reason, the entire city of Cincinnati had decided that the day before Christmas was the best time to schedule maintenance on literally every single one of their plows. “Can you imagine living here without heat? Or power? I’d die.”

Draco hummed in response. A glance over confirmed that he was deep in thought, a scarlet colored letter clutched firmly in his hand (hello, Nathaniel Hawthorne). Jealousy curdled inside of her as her thoughts turned to a dark place--it was Pansy, that Pansy Parkinson. 

Knowing her intuition, she was probably his grandmother or something. Why else would she have written so many letters?

After she finished plating all of the pancakes, she allowed herself to sneak a peek at the envelope. 

Astoria Greengrass

She frowned. Astoria? She’d never seen that name before. 

“What is this?” asked Draco as he picked up his fork to poke at the pancake on his plate.

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “Have you never had a pancake before?”

“A pancake?” He gave his plate a stern look. “It looks...like a soggy pastry.”

“Fuck you, I made that,” responded Y/N. “Try it with butter and maple syrup. And then tell me it’s a soggy pastry.”

She took out her fork and knife, demonstrating very clearly what she meant as she spread butter over the top of her pancake. She’d learned that Draco was too proud to ask what she meant when she introduced him to American/muggle foods--the last time he tried to deduce something himself, he ended up pouring ketchup over the top of his hamburger bun instead of actually putting it on the patty. 

A sense of satisfaction flowed into her as she saw him follow suit, spreading the warmed butter and dipping a cut piece in syrup. He raised it to his lips, taking a delicate bite.

“Americans really have this for breakfast?”

“Yeah…is something wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” He grimaced. “This isn’t breakfast. This is dessert food.”

“God, your life must be so sad back home,” said Y/N. “What does your family make you eat--just straight unbuttered bread under the guise of it being a real breakfast food? Do they let you dip it in your unsweetened, weak tea if you’re good?”

He scoffed. “You have no idea how I live back at home.”

“And, judging from this conversation, I don’t have any desire to know any more.”

They ate in silence for the next few minutes. Y/N smiled when she saw Draco reach for a second pancake.

“Two desserts? Draco, I know it’s New Year’s, but don’t get too off the hinges,” she teased. 

He rolled his eyes, but she could tell her was fighting back a smile. “Speaking of which, how do you celebrate New Year’s?”

Draco looked up and met her eyes. “Sorry?”

“How do you celebrate tonight? With your family or your friends, or your...whatever.” The cold reality of the fact that she did not really know if he was dating someone back home set in.

“Oh, I don’t usually. It’s not really a big thing in the magical community,” he mused, unaware of her sudden panic.

“Well,” she said. “I always celebrate New Year’s with my friends. I didn’t tell you this sooner because I didn’t think that you were going to be here, but I’m kind of hosting a party here tonight. With anyone who can walk here.”

“Oh.” He took a sip of his tea. “Will it be like the Halloween party at Sylvia’s?”

“What do you mean?” She smiled. “Do you mean, will there be drinking?”

He shrugged in response, avoiding eye contact.

“There definitely can be,” she continued, her smile widening. “Last year we played this dumb drinking game over this card game--if you lost, you took a shot. It was fun. We could do that again.”

She settled down to eat, digging into two of the pancakes. They were really good--she wasn’t Gordon Ramsay by any means, but she did breakfast food pretty well. But at the mention of her friends, a realization hit her. “Oh. Draco?”

He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes.

“Um, can I tell you something?” 

He dipped his head in recognition while Y/N cleared her throat.

“So, um, I forgot about this,” she began, “but while you were gone, I kind of had to scramble to figure out what to tell everyone about why we were avoiding each other before you left. And why you left so suddenly and why I didn’t know.”

He was still watching her in curious silence. 

“So, I really didn’t want to slip up or say anything about...you.” Y/N paused to take a sip of her tea, deciding to not try to look at Draco again. “So I decided to tell Sylvia and Lizzy that I told you my feelings for you and you didn’t return them.”

A clang startled her enough to look up. Draco was staring, completely frozen. His fork had fallen into the syrup on his plate, handle and all.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“I mean, oh, fuck. Um.” She smiled at him, hoping it was going to distract from her audible stumble. “Obviously, I made it all up. I mean, both sides! But what’s important is that they bought it, and now they’re probably going to give you a little shit for not liking me ‘back’. So I’m sorry about that.”

“Made it all up, huh?” His voice had a surprisingly teasing lilt. 

“Yes, that is in fact what I said,” she responded, hoping that her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt hot.

“Is it really now?” 

“Draco!” 

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back. I need a new fork.”

“Just wipe off the handle of the one you have now--Draco, why are you getting up? Stop!”

~ 

To her disappointment, none of her friends were able to show. Sylvia and Lizzy made a concerted effort to try and convince their family to let them brave the walk, but once another flurry started up outside, it was hopeless. Her face turned pink whenever she thought about the fact that she hadn’t even needed to tell Draco the thing that made her slip up in the first place. 

Y/N, disappointed but not surprised, told Draco that she still wanted to celebrate, even if it was just with him. He’d snorted at this--asking her why she made it seem like such a burden--but once she produced a yellow glass bottle and a deck of cards and told him she bet that she was going to beat his sorry ass, he caved.

She started with a heavy lead, but once Draco learned the rules and strategies of the slightly convoluted Go Fish game, he proved to be a worthy match. They played until around 11:45 when the bottle was about 3/4 full and Y/N was feeling the pleasant warmth of being slightly intoxicated. Once she noticed the time, she threw her cards on the table. 

“Let’s watch the ball drop,” Y/N said with no further explanation, even when Draco looked to her for one. She grabbed the bottle and his hand, pulling him up the stairs to her room. The remote control for her TV was a struggle to find--it was all the way tucked back in her nightstand drawer--but thankfully the channel was already set. 

“You forgot the cups,” Draco said, staring down at the opened bottle held in his hand.

“You can get them if you want,” she managed.

“You should! You forgot them.”

“Too far,” she whined, flopping to lean back on her pillows while Draco followed suit. His hair smelled like peppermint. Without much more thought, she moved close enough that their shoulders were touching. He didn’t move away--instead, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a drink directly. 

“Your New Year’s traditions are weird as fuck,” he murmured as he watched Savannah Guthrie on the screen. He didn’t have to speak very loud for her to hear him, and it seemed like he knew this.

“Oh, you haven’t even heard it all yet,” said Y/N. “We’ve got a tradition to kiss someone going into the New Year. New Year’s kiss, I guess. I’m sure you can imagine the kind of drama that creates.”

“What d’you mean?”

“You don’t have to be dating to kiss someone, sometimes people just...do it. As friends.” Y/N reached over to the bottle and took a swig herself, feeling the warmth trickle down her throat.

“Take it easy,” he tutted, pulling the bottle away from her before taking another drink himself. 

“Hey! Says you!”

“Because I can actually hold my liquor well,” he teased, giving her a shove.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“You just kept getting worse and worse at whatever that game was,” he told her matter-of-factly.

“Give it here,” she said, reaching across his chest to where he was holding the bottle, out and above his head. She hoped he couldn’t tell how much this side of him filled her with glee. “That’s not fair!”

“Not fair, huh?” He raised an eyebrow and met her eyes as he held it up even further into the air. His voice was startlingly low. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Before she could muster up a response, the TV began playing the audio for the New Year’s Countdown.

10!

Y/N wasn’t sure if she was supposed to answer--or if he was just...flirting?

9!

He managed to set the bottle on her nightstand without taking his eyes off of her.

8!

The hand she had used to reach across him with was now pressed into his side of the bed, supporting her as she hovered over him.

7!

Without moving any part of her body, she dared to glance at his parted lips.

6!

Maybe telling him about the kiss tradition was a stupid idea.

5!

His hand, warm and soft,  reached up to brush a piece of hair away from her cheekbone. 

4! 

His fingers lingered on the outline of her jaw.

3!

2!

1!

He was kissing her before the cheers from the TV even had the chance to bounce around the room, both hands cupping her face and pulling her in so desperately that it took her breath away.

Her hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, and then, eventually his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined it to be. They started out innocently enough--closed mouth kisses and only their hands touching each other above the shoulders--but once she tugged on his hair (mostly by accident) something...shifted. 

Suddenly he was on top of her, and suddenly her leg was wrapped around him as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. It occurred to her that this was no longer just a New Year’s kiss. He tasted of lemon and sugar--and was notably better at what he was doing than any of the people she’d kissed before. Or maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgement. Regardless, she liked whatever was going on. His hands had drifted from her face to her neck to her hair to her shoulder, gently tracing the outline of her bra strap. She brushed her hand down his chest, pulling gently at the collar on his shirt. Only when his leg pressed up into her and her breath hitched did she realize the weight of their situation.

The way he pulled away to hover over her signaled that he’d had the same revelation, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. “Um…”

“Yeah?” Dread crept into her despite the pleasant haze she was in. 

He swallowed, hard. “I can’t believe I did that.”

Draco was on the other side of the bed in seconds, wringing his hands and keeping his eyes fixed on her floor. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry. I’m drunk and I’m not thinking straight. I’m so sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” She didn’t know if he wanted her to touch him, but she wanted so badly to place a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Did you not want...it?”

He scoffed and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. “I had too much to drink. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” Y/N felt the blood drain from her face as she fell back on the bed.

That’s all it was. A drunken mistake. 

Tears pricked at her eyes as she surveyed her options. Despite the fact that she was drunk off her ass, she knew she couldn’t just tell him to leave without making her feelings clear. She never explicitly told him that she wanted him and it wasn’t like she moaned his name or anything--thank god--but what other option did she have? She didn’t want to cry in front of him, and if he stayed in her room any longer he would without a doubt witness her alcohol induced cry fest. 

NBC finally switched to ads, and Y/N granted herself permission to mourn the fact that Flo from Progressive would forever be ruined for her. 

It was dark enough for her to quickly reach up and wipe her eyes undetected, granting her enough confidence to sit up and look at him directly. “You don’t get to just...kiss me like that. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” he said. His hands were clasped tightly together and rested on his nose. “Fuck. Of course I know.”

“But you can tell me you meant it to be just as friends,” she told him, hoping he couldn’t see how hard she was fighting back a new wave of tears. 

“As friends,” he repeated, his tone flat. 

“As friends,” she said. 

“I don’t think either of us are daft enough to believe that.” 

Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe things are different in America, but I don’t see you doing that sort of thing with Lizzy.”

“We can forget about this. It’s fine. I know you regret it.”

He exhaled, his breath long and shaky. “I didn’t stop because I regretted it.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because…”

“Is it because I’m a muggle?” His silence was everything she needed for an answer. “Okay. I had a feeling.”

“Y/N, it’s not like...I don’t know how to explain it.” He still wouldn’t make eye contact with her. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” 

“About this!” he said, dramatically gesturing to her. “About everything!”

“I don’t understand.” The tears began pricking in the corners of her eyes again despite her best efforts. 

Draco finally looked at her. She was shocked by how genuinely distressed he looked--the last time he looked at her like this, she’d been laying on the ground outside of the antique sore. “I don’t expect you to.”

His tone was low, careful. He was holding back.

“Can you just tell me how you feel about me, then? Just so I know?”

“It’s not that--” He stopped himself, sucking in another breath before he continued. “I shouldn’t. It’s not right of me.” He groaned, flopping onto his back and covering his face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Hey,” Y/N said, reaching out to awkwardly pat his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that we could just forget about it. We’re friends, Draco. Just friends. I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s just pretend this never happened, ok?”

He was quiet for a bit before responding. “Did you...want me to kiss you? Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?”

“As in, did you want me to stop?”

“Oh.” Y/N cracked her knuckles. “You didn’t violate me if you’re asking to gauge how guilty you should be.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, but that’s not why I’m asking.”

“Okay,” she said simply. He was still laying in her bed, and she hated the fact that her bed was going to smell like him until she washed everything. 

“So?” He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t answer.”

“We’re friends, Draco.” She sent him a weak smile as she repeated her previous sentiment. “I trust you, so you didn’t make me uncomfortable.” 

She was aware of the fact that her sentence didn’t exactly track, but she wasn’t particularly concerned with the literary quality of her speech.

“That still doesn’t answer my other question.”

“I…” She felt her throat dry up. “I want--I wanted you to kiss me. I’ve wanted you to kiss me for a while now.” 

At this, he finally sat up and looked her in the eyes. She thought she could see the briefest glint of relief pass over his face before he managed to rein it back to a neutral expression.

“Did you want to kiss me?”

“I was the one who kissed you, not the other way around, yeah?”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” she snipped, hoping he caught on to her mocking. She’d missed sparring with him. 

“Yes, I kissed you because I wanted to, not for some weird ulterior motive,” he responded, rolling his eyes despite the fact that his cheeks were clearly very pink, even in her dimly lit room. “Though I agree it’s best if we just stayed friends.”

“Yeah.” She felt her face fall, but she managed to catch it before she looked too devastated. “It’s all water under the bridge. Now we know not to drink together again.”

“That too.” He shifted, clearing his throat before making eye contact with her again with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “But the damage is already done, I suppose?”

“I suppose,” she echoed. “You wanted to kiss me? Actually?”

“Should we really talk about this? After what we just said about staying friends?”

“We’re going to feel regret tomorrow morning no matter what we do now, “ said Y/N. “Might as well.”

He smiled one of his rare smiles--the ones where his eyes went all soft and he dipped his head to hide it. “Yes. I really do. Want to kiss you, that is.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” she blurted out before slapping her hand over her mouth in shock. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

His smile morphed into more of a smirk as he crept closer, his hand resting on top of her knee. “So can I do it again?”

“Draco…” She sighed.

“The damage is already done,” he repeated as he reached his hand up to brush a lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers dragging down her neck. The smug look that formed on his face after she drew a quick breath in confirmed that he knew what he was doing, that fucker. “You said it yourself--we’re just friends.”

“I’m going to hate myself in the morning if I say yes.”

 Draco’s hand drifted over her jaw, his thumb pausing to trace over her bottom lip. “You can hate me instead.” 

This time, it didn’t surprise her so much when he leaned in. He was notably less desperate, taking time to draw breaths in between kisses and lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing. Once he seemed satisfied, he lifted her chin and brushed the hair away from her neck, kissing down from her jaw to her collarbone. She shivered, and he drew her closer by wrapping his arms around her until she was sitting on his lap.

“Wow, you’re such a good friend, Draco,” she managed to joke. She could feel the smirk that formed on his lips as it passed over her clavicle.

 “Shut up.” His teeth grazed over her delicate skin before he sucked, eliciting a gasp from her. She could feel him smile again. 

His hands teased the bottom hemline of her sweater, his fingers tangling in the fabric but not moving it. She sucked in a breath, feeling his hands ghost over her skin. 

“Are you okay with…”

“Yes!” The answer came out much quicker than she would’ve liked, but the grin on Draco’s face made it completely worth the momentary embarrassment as he helped her out of the thick cable-knit sweater. “Now is your chance to dote on me and tell me how beautiful I am. As a friend, of course.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth,” he said. He looked like he was positively glowing as she smiled and leaned in to kiss him, slow and deep. His hands found her back and hesitated over her bra clasp.

Before he had a chance to do anything, Y/N started fiddling with the buttons on his white shirt, successfully undoing the first two before she noticed that Draco had frozen completely.

“Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” he said. “Maybe...not now, okay?”

“I had a feeling that was too much,” she admitted, reaching for her top before realizing he’d tossed it across her bedroom floor and suddenly feeling very exposed.

“It’s not that…” he said, trailing off. “I just...should probably tell you some things before my shirt comes off. And I don’t think tonight is the best time for that.”

“Oh.” Y/N tried to make herself look like she understood whatever he was on about. “Yeah, of course. Oh! Is it about that tattoo you tried to gaslight me into believing didn’t exist?”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t gaslight you!”

“Here you go again,” she huffed. “I rest my case.” 

“And I am not getting into that now,” he said. “I didn’t want to talk about it for very good reason.” 

She reached up to his shoulders, dragging her fingertips over his collarbones and watching as he gazed up at her. “That’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

The corners of his lips turned up at this, and she took the opportunity to press a chaste kiss on the edge of his mouth. “I think we should go to sleep. We have enough material to regret for tomorrow at this point. Any more and I think we’ll be getting greedy, so--”

Draco cut her off with one last kiss, his fingers splayed out across her back, pulling her impossibly close before finally releasing her.

“Agreed.” He let out a sigh before sliding her off him and standing up to grab her runaway sweater. “Do you want to sleep in this? Or do you want me to get you something else from your dresser while I’m up?”

“Um…” She was frozen at the prospect of him watching her change clothes. “Probably something else. Top left drawer--just pick whatever.”

He sifted through her piles of random T-shirts before settling on one with the UChicago logo and tossing it to her. 

Y/N pulled it over her head, grateful for the fact that he wasn’t staring at her with only a black lace bra that barely did its job. 

“So, uh, I think I should probably go then,” he said. 

She fought the urge to ask him to stay. “Yeah, that’d be best.”

His mouth opened like he was about to say something, but he closed it and frowned. “So I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Draco,” she replied. “I’ll look forward to agonizing over this in the morning.”

Once the sounds of his footsteps heading down the hall faded, she finally allowed herself to flop back onto her now Draco-scented sheets.

What the fuck just happened.

final a/n: hellooooooo ! it finally happened! i hope this didn’t seem rushed or unnatural to you guys but like. it’s been over 30k words and i thought you guys deserved something. yes i am going to be leaning into the whole “we’re just friends” trope while definitely not being just friends. yes i am going to drag astoria into this i’m excited i hope yall enjoyed

[mystyrust]

Fracture - Ectober 2020

Day 2 Prompt: Bones / Pulse  

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203635

Word Count:  2387

Tags: Past torture, identity reveal

There were many ways Maddie liked to spend her weekend. When her kids were younger, she and Jack would take them out to museums or parks – a family outing. Now that her kids are in high school and have a lot of homework, they don’t go out every weekend anymore. In fact, it feels like they haven’t had time to bond as a family in months. Jazz is always in the library and Danny is always with his friends – sometimes even sleeping over – or catching up on missed homework. Maddie could never figure out why Danny had a backlog of homework to catch up on, yet always had time to hang out with Sam and Tucker.

Now, with her kids spending all their free time by themselves, Maddie liked to spend her free time in her lab, creating and improving her inventions to catch the elusive ghost Phantom. It had been around the time that Phantom appeared that Danny and Jazz became more distant – while both her children were in support of the ghost vigilante, Maddie and Jack were against it, devoting their free time into solving the mystery of what made Phantom different from every other ghost that haunted Amity Park. They wanted to catch it, run experiments with it, and dissect it.

So this weekend was like any other – Maddie was huddled in her lab with Jack, working out the schematics of a new invention – when their Fenton Ghost Detector beeped; a strong ecto-signature was detected inside the Fenton household. This was normal if the ghost came out of the Fenton portal – this signature came from… the living room. Maddie and Jack ran up to find Phantom having stumbled through the front door, leaking ectoplasm behind it.

“What do you think you’re doing here, spook?!” Jack raised his ecto gun at the intruder, his large frame standing in between Maddie and the ghost. But Phantom was in no shape to fight.

“I… I need help,” The ghost managed to gasp out. Maddie paused in confusion. The ghost had tears streaming down its face, heavy breathing, and ectoplasm leaking down one limp arm. It’s mimicking of human physiology was fascinating. And to come to ghost hunters for help? Either this was a trap, or it wasn’t thinking straight.

“The..guys in…white… barely got away from them,” Phantom continued to explain. Maddie noticed him sway where he stood. And that was the weird part – he stood. Not floated. And he had legs, instead of a spectral tail.

“Please, before they… finish me… like they did…”

Jack lowered his ecto gun ever so slightly – not lowering his guard, but still confused about what to do. It was odd, seeing the always confident Phantom reduced to pleading and begging its former enemies. Something in his psyche was so shattered from his experience with the GIW…

Maddie didn’t know what to make of that, but she couldn’t waste a perfectly good opportunity when it knocked phased right through her front door.

“Let’s… let’s stabilize him for now,” Maddie said, lowering Jack’s aim. “Then we can ask him what happened. And decide what to do after that,”

Jack nodded in agreement. He gingerly placed his ectogun down, approaching Phantom with both is hands up and in front.

“We’ll help you, spook,” Jack spoke loud and purposefully. “But we’ll need to take you down to the lab to do that,” Phantom nodded slightly, and Jack took that as permission to walk up to the ghost. Phantom was… he wasn’t heavy but Jack wasn’t expecting the ghost to be as solid and corporeal as he was. He lifted the ghost in his arms, and followed Maddie down to the basement.

The ghost offered little resistance, but he was breathing heavily, and leaking a concerning amount of ectoplasm from his limp arm and one of his legs. It must be difficult to keep up the charade of struggling to breathe, when he’s lost as much ectoplasm as he has, Maddie thinks.

They place him on an examination table, with Maddie grabbing a scanner and running it over his damaged arm.

“Jack…” Her voice shuddered, “His arm is… it’s fractured.”

“What? That makes no sense, he doesn’t even have…bones…” but the scanner showed Jack exactly that.

There were a million and one questions that ghosted Maddie’s lips: How did you get bones? Do other ghosts also have bones? Where do the bones in your body go when you form a spectral tail? Are your bones made of calcium, just like human bodies? But the words that left her mouth were:

“You have bones?”

All her years of academic study, her dual MD/PhD, wasted on a Captain Obvious™ moment.

“Yeah, no duh,” Phantom cracked an eye open, while the rest of his face continued to grimace. “And it hurts…like hell…” There was that snarky teenaged attitude the Fentons were so familiar with.

“How do we even treat this?” Jack asked. One of Phantom’s legs was badly muddled – peeling the suit back revealed deep and numerous gashes. He was losing ounces of ectoplasm a second, and if these injuries were on a human, he’d need blood transfusion and stitches.

“Well, we can supplement ectoplasm to help his healing factor. And then…” Maddie gulped. “Stitch the leg. And set the arm.”

Maddie went to the back of the lab, returning with a set of tools. Scalpels, needles, and bandages. The glint of the metal must have caught Phantom’s eyes – how was he still conscious? A human with this much blood loss would not be awake right now – and the ghost started hyperventilating.

“What are you –? No, please! Please don’t! I wasn’t – !”

“Phantom! We’re helping you!” Jack yelled back. Phantom stared at Jack, eyes fogging over and breathing uneven.

“I’m sorry I never…I should have told you sooner,” Phantom cried. It was an ugly cry, from a body and heart in pain. Maddie didn’t know what else to call it. What kind of guilt could be eating Phantom alive, from the inside?

“I can’t –” Phantom grunted. “I can’t change back! I’m sorry, I’m sorry I should have –”

“How about we help you first, then you tell us what you should have told us when your arm and leg are better?”

Phantom, still sniffling, nodded silently.

Maddie set to work with putting stitches on his leg, while Jack hooked an IV of purified ectoplasm. She looped phase proof thread – from Jack’s Fenton Fishing Pole – onto a surgical needle, and set to work, closing one of the many wounds. Since the wound was deep, Maddie needed to stitch the inner layers first, before sewing the outer layers shut. She was marveled at the level of detail in this ghosts’ body – maybe she could ask him about that when he was healed up.

It was strange that only one leg was injured, while the other leg looked fine. It was stranger how Phantom’s breathing and crying hitched every time her needle pierced his flesh.

“Phantom, can you –? Can you feel the needle as I –?”

“Mhmm,” Phantom managed to grunt, tears freely flowing from his eyes. “Please hurry, Mom.”

Maddie froze in her tracks. Why did he even –? Okay calm down.

He can feel pain. He can display emotion. He can appear delusional with loss of bodily fluids. And in that delusion, he seeks a parental figure.

He has the psyche of a child, her rational mind concludes. So she’ll play that part.

“Almost,…Almost done, sweetie.” Maddie responds hesitantly. “You’re doing great.”

As for the feeling pain part, she isn’t how drugs can affect a ghost – and she can’t take a chance that Phantom will react badly to some experimental medication they use on him. She can only hope that he passes out at some point, and doesn’t feel any pain for the remainder of the procedure. From watching previous footage of his battles in chronological order, Maddie had concluded that Phantom has a fast healing factor. She can only hope that healing factor is still fast. He’ll be fine.

Funny how in the course of an hour, she stopped thinking of Phantom from an “it” and started to think of Phantom as a “he”

It took thirty more minutes of verbal coaxing and soothing for Maddie to finish stitching Phantom’s leg. He promptly passed out when that was done. While Phantom was asleep, Jack finished bandaging the arm, adding a splint to keep it straight.

Finally, with ghostly patient asleep and treated, Maddie and Jack sat down, exhausted.

“Well, I never thought – ” Jack paused, unsure how to word it. They learned more about Phantom’s physiology today than ever before, and he broke every known convention about ghosts that they’d researched thus far. Not to mention a ghost turning to a ghost hunter for help.

“I want to take a sample of his ectoplasm while we can,” Maddie said. “But he might not have enough to spare. And I have a feeling that we’ll get more questions than answers under the microscope, too.”

“You’re right,” Jack agreed. “I wonder what he went through, for him to be as injured as he was and decide to come to us, of all people. Heh, Danny and Jazz would freak.”

“Well, Danny’s sleeping over at Sam’s again, and Jazz was tutoring someone else this weekend.” Maddie mused. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Phantom stayed here for a few days without them even knowing.” It hurt her to know how detached her children had become from her, and it hurt her to know that her assessment of the situation was objectively correct – Jazz and Danny were rarely home.

“Well, he mentioned the guys in white,” Jack said. “If they are the ones who did this to him, and we protect him from those guys, we can earn his trust. And then maybe he’ll let his guard down enough for us to …at least solve the mystery of what he is.”

The two scientists stare at the sleeping form of Phantom, noticing how even in a seemingly unconscious state, his chest rises and falls with each breath.

“With his consent, I suppose,” Jack added.

_

A few hours later, in the middle of dinner, Maddie and Jack are interrupted to rude knocking from their front door.

“Ugh, not another door to door salesman,” Jack grunted. Answering the door revealed that their rude guests were none other than

“GIW,” an agent dressed in white answered, holding up an identification badge. There were two agents, both equipped with ecto guns and headphones, Maddie noted.

“Yes, we can see that,” Jack responded, keeping the shock out of his face. “If you wanted to come over for dinner, you should have called earlier. We don’t have leftovers.”

“We came to inform you that Phantom has escaped our captivity,”

“We didn’t even know you had Phantom in captivity,” Jack raised his brows in surprise.

“Just a few hours of questioning. We underestimated his abilities, and his allies.” The agent continued. “We’ll need extra weapons, the latest of whatever you’ve developed.”

“Well, we don’t have anything, since we gave you everything we made last time,” Maddie interjected. “So we don’t have anything complete yet. And besides, wouldn’t it have been faster for you to send an email or announcement that Phantom escaped? You must have lost a lot of time driving around to come tell us in person.”

“You never know who could be listening.”

“And besides,” the agent in the back added, “There was a chase. We don’t know where he disappeared to, but we suspect he stopped by here.”

“And why do you think he stopped by here?” Jack was very good at keeping the caution out of his voice, Maddie noted. If it were her, their cover would have probably been blown by now.

“Isn’t it weird for a ghost to hide out at a ghost hunter’s house?”

“True, but the same ghost uses technology he stole from a ghost hunter, and he can go into the ghost zone from the portal in your basement,” This was nothing new to Maddie. In fact, it annoyed her that Phantom used Fenton tech, because it meant he somehow evaded ghost detectors in their home to acquire it, or it was handed to him directly by Danny or Jazz. That last one hurt the most; she couldn’t bear the thought of her children going behind her back to support someone who was the very antithesis of everything they stood for.

Or, someone who used to be that. Maddie isn’t sure how she feels about Phantom now, but at the very least, she doesn’t want to hurt him anymore.

“Well, we’ve been home all day, and our equipment didn’t detect anything. But if we find anything new, we’ll call.” Jack told the two agents.

“Alright, stay on alert!” The first agent said, before leaving. Jack closed the front door, and the two waited until they saw the agents sit in their vehicle and drive off, before moving from their spot. Thank goodness they didn’t come inside or into the lab; the lab’s high ectoplasmic content could somewhat mask Phantom’s signature, and could be explained as a false positive on ghost detecting radars, but they wouldn’t be able to hide an unconscious ghost – an unconscious ghost! How wild is that?! – if the agents wound up downstairs.

Maddie breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s been a few hours, let’s check on him”

Maddie and Jack headed downstairs to their lab. Just as they had left him, Phantom was sleeping on the examination table, hooked to an IV of ectoplasm. The fracture on his arm looked like it would heal completely – the naturally cool body temperature of the ghost helped, along with his quick healing factor. His leg looked significantly better, though Maddie wasn’t sure if the stitches would leave behind scars.

Maddie pulled a notebook from the work table, adding and updating her notes with everything they’d learned about Phantom today.

“Can ghosts get scars?” Maddie mused out loud. “Or is it unique to him?”

“I dunno, I guess we’ll have to ask –”

Their conversation is interrupted by a groan – Phantom was waking up – followed by a flash of bright white light. The Fentons covered their eyes, and when the light died down, they’re met with even more questions than answers.

“Danny?!”

[a-trying-writer]

[the story of no-no II. gdi, ive been dealing with writer’s block, so i basiclaly churned this out from an idea that i struggled with writing. so im sorry about how badly paced and written it is, it just feels as if i had to do this in a very basic approach compared to before, but never was content with. so yeah. ugh. i just want to wriiiite again!]

“From what I’ve been told, nothing is wrong with you physically,” said a doctor that picked me from the rest of my villagers. “However, you’re a curious case mentally speaking.”

I stared at her in silence, unsure on what to say. I also took that time to notice how striking her features are, from her strong shaped jaw, to her dark brown almond eyes, fair skin, and long black hair, kept in a ponytail. Despite how short the chair she had was, her posture was straight, making her shoulders seem rather broad. I suppose it was the pads underneath her long coat -- a common garb that doctors often wear, no matter their actual occupation, be it scientific or medical.

Her lips curled into a smile, but I couldn’t help but notice how they didn’t reach her eyes. “You don’t have to say anything, Mx. No-No. To be quite honest with you, your case is why I wanted to speak to you alone.” The doctor’s eyes darted around my room, perhaps taking in what little I had in here.

It’s strange, but for once, I felt as if my privacy was being invaded. I couldn’t help but frown at that, even though she couldn’t see my expression through my mask.

A soft, brief laugh escaped from her when she laid her eyes on me again. “The Elder told me a bit about your history. That you arrived to the village as a child with no parents. You never spoke to anyone, not even children your own age, for a few years, until you made a... well, let’s say ‘friend’, though I assume that word is not the exact definition to describe your relationship with this person. Anyway, since he was persistent in trying to get to know you, you decided enough was enough at one point, and shouted at him. Since that moment, the villagers noticed that not only could you actually speak, but that you were rather emotionally distant as time went by, and the friend never left your side, despite how often you say you’d rather be alone.”

I bit my lip. What is she trying to say, I wonder. And what’s the point in this meeting?

“It must be weird that I’m saying all this, isn’t it?” she asked, but I didn’t bother responding. “This is your personal history, anyway, and though I know of it, it’s actually none of my business.” She paused. “But, it is, you see. Well, for me anyway.”

“What do you mean?” I said out loud, without meaning to. I quickly bit my tongue, but I noticed that the doctor wasn’t exactly surprised. Instead, she crossed one of her legs over the other, as she took in a deep breath.

“The world is big and complex,” she answered. “You lived in this village for almost all your life, but the only contact of the outside world is from people like me that come and go. You never really cared about them, did you? Well, ‘care’ isn’t exactly the word for it, but for now, I’ll use it for the lack of a better term.” The doctor leaned forward a bit, with that smile still on her face. “With that in mind, I assume you don’t know the history of daemons and humans. It seems that the rest of the village isn’t aware of them either, so it might be possible for a daemon to be living among them without knowing. However, there is... something about this place that actually repels them.”

The doctor brushed her hair over her shoulder while keeping her eyes on me. I wasn’t sure what to say, except, “Continue.”

Another short laugh. “This entire village is located on a cave inside a mountain. It’s difficult to travel up here, which is why only a few selected doctors come and go from various countries, all specialized in something. Psychology, physical health, et cetera... but I’m one of the few that actually studies something a bit more... special, you could say.”

“Special?”

“Yes. Artifacts, ruins, ancient technology, and the likes. Basically, places and things that have existed for over one thousand years, that are quite mysterious, as they are dangerous.” She paused to take in another deep breath. “You work with the dead, don’t you?”

“I don’t work with them, aside from preparing the chamber for their body to be burned,” I answered, almost immediately. I don’t know what this doctor is asking about it for, but with all the things she said, I might as well poke her for information as well in return. “Why do you ask?”

For a brief second, I noticed a glimmer her eyes. Is she... happy that I spoke up?

“It’s because I noticed the words ingrained in those stone walls are similar to the ones I’ve been studying for the longest time. As I said, there is something about this place that repels daemons from this village, and I believe, if I have the proper help, I can look into this place further... and if I’m correct, you are the only one who can help me.”

“And why is that?” I asked.

The doctor’s lips parted slightly as she got up from the chair. “You and I are the same. We are apathetic people.”

I blinked. “Apathetic...?”

“There are many, many studies of humanity and our emotions, some that have been dated far before daemons came into our world. However, it’s become rather difficult to describe ourselves one way or another, so these terms have no longer been used, so we need new ones for the sake of helping people. Apathetic, cheerful, melancholy are just a few words that we choose to apply to ourselves, if we wanted to. But, of course, it doesn’t always work that way for some people, say, a violent person that kills. Given that we live among daemons however, and they can often disguise themselves as humans, it’s difficult to really say if a person is a ‘serial killer’, or just a daemon out for blood. Humans also tend to suffer under mental ailments and the likes, which is why professionals study as hard as they can to help them. But again, it tends to conflict with daemons that take on human appearances. Do you understand?”

I paused to think it over. “No... Not really. In fact, I think you confused me so much so, that I developed a headache.”

The doctor let out another laugh before shrugging. “I expected that would happen. To be honest, I’m not a doctor that specializes in those areas, so I might as well be wrong, if not a little bit incorrect. Anyway, Mx. No-No, I have things to take care of during my stay here, but I’ll definitely need to talk to you about something important in the upcoming days. I shall see you around.”

“Very well,” I simply replied. “You didn’t give me your name, by the way.”

“I did? Oh, well, pardon me, my name is Dr. Xiao Wei, but of course, Dr. Wei is the proper way to call me.”

“Of course, Doctor. Thank you.”

Dr. Wei then gave me a firm nod before she left my home through the curtains. “Enjoy your day, Mx.”

[wongiemei]

Roommate!Jeno

a/n: maybe i should just turn this blog into an nct dream one

okay

letsgetit!

first of all,

story time!

your uni is fucking expensive and it’s more expensive if you live in the grounds

so you being the wise human,

you went to get an apartment near the campus

it was great and all since roommate!jaemin was paying for his stuff

you were both living respectively until he had to leave

the dumbass didnt even bother to tell you

one morning you just woke up and found his note

‘hey bitch! figured you were too much of a rock to wake up but i moved out! the family wants me to go back home and tend the restaurant’

the whole day yesterday, you were working

bc,,, yknow

broke college life

and you just walked in half asleep towards your room and fell asleep

so you didnt really see or notice

but were you freaking out bc your roommate suddenly moved out?

ofc you were freaking out

not only was your roommate gone,

how were you going to find a new one?!

jaemin expected your phone call that afternoon and he endured through all your screaming

‘babe, i’m just going to be gone for a year-or two’

‘oR tWO?!’

‘hun, my dad’s injured and his back can only let him do so much. ma’s working too much and i dont have any siblings to help. i figured i could just hold off college until my parents are ready’

ugh, jaemin is such a family boy

‘but jaems! you couldnt have at least told me that yOu wERe mOvING OuT?! and! rent is due soon! i can’t pay for that myself!’

jaemin couldve easily told you to warn yoy

but he didn’t want to tell you bc he couldnt handle you sad and didnt want to upset you

however, now jaemin really understands how shitty that move was

‘tell you what. i’ll pay for this month and make a few phone calls and i’ll get you set up with a new roommate, deal?’

knowing how much of a social butterfly he was, you agreed

ofc you trusted jaemin but part of you feared that he might pair you up with a freak

but he’s not that mean, is he?

you can definitely see renjun doing that but not jaemin

so there you are,,

sitting on your couch alone

without jaemin, your apartment felt really empty

its been a few days since he moved and you were miserable

jaemin hasn’t even texted you about that potential roommate

just as you were about to call him,,

your doorbell rang

you froze and you looked at the time

it was nearing 11 at night and you don’t remember ordering delivery

see,,

if jaemin was here,

he would answer it for you since you would be too scared to do it

but you mustered up your courage and peeped through the peep hole

the man was dressed in all black with a black mask and a black cap with his hood over it with a black hoodie and black pants

ngl, you were terrified and trembling

he rang it again and you jumped

typing out a quick text to jaemin saying ‘hey bub, if i don’t text you in an hour, that means ive been kidnapped so call the police’

you grabbed a pan from the cupboard and gulped before you opened the door

thinking he would just walk forward and grab you, you closed your eyes and raised your pan over your head and swung

a shriek from in front of you made your eyes snap open and found the guy on the floor with a fetal position

you both just froze for like a phat minute

snapping back to reality, you held the pan in front of you

‘if youre going to kidnap me, i got a pan and im not afraid to hit you with it!’

you tried to sound intimidating but your voice was shaking so much

the guy stood up and he took off his hat and the mask to reveal a blonde haired kid

okay, so you were sHOokETh

damn! this boy is fine!

he gave you a shaky smile and held out his hand

‘hi! i’m lee jeno! you must be y/n? jaemin told me you had an opening for a roommate?’

now you noticed the two duffle bags at the side

the embaressment and the shame settled in slowly and you found yourself burning up

nodding, you motioned him to come in

jeno awkwardly walked in and was amazed at how big the layout was with the low rent

‘yea, its kinda hard to believe that we only pay that much. at first i thought there was a ghost in here and that’s why its so cheap’

you tried to make small conversation but laughed weirdly at jeno’s slightly terrified face

‘no! there really is not ghost here! ive lived here for a year and there hasnt been anything so please dont understand! please be my roommate!’

you begged and jeno thought you were weird

but jaemin was right, you were weirdly adorable in a way

so that’s how you and jeno became apartment buddies!

now onto the good stuff!

so, jeno is a vv clean guy

like he’s the type to just pick up a wrapper in the street and throw it in the garbage

so naturally, he likes to keep the apartment as tidy and neat as possible

but you being a mess you are,

you usually leave a lot of things everywhere

lets just say you have a short memory

‘oh? how did that get there?’

eventually, jeno gets sick of it and he confronts you with it

ofc you understand and you actually try to be better

since jeno is literally the most perfect roommate

maybe even better than jaemin

(but don’t tell him that)

jeno is the type to re-stock the pantry with snacks and the fridge with ice cream

since youre both college students, ramen is practically always available in the house 24/7

he also makes the coffee every morning since he works early and wakes up first

even though he doesn’t like the drink and prefers milk, he still notices how you survive off of coffee

babie likes to pick you up some iced americano while he gets a frappe

you on the other hand,,

you’re very surprised

when you got to bed after showing jeno around,

you messaged jaemin

ofc he was worried af and was blowing up your phone

‘WHAT?!’

‘bitch answer the damn phone!’

‘whatthe fuck is happening?!’

‘i need to know if you’re still alive!’

‘oh fuck i shouldnt have moved out’

smiling softly at how worried he was, you responded to him

‘you hoe, it hasnt been an hour yet so chillax. i’m alive, unfortunately, and i just met my new roommate. again, thanks for the heads-up. youre so bad at those. i literally thought he was a burgular or a kidnapper. but he seems chill and emo. just my type.’

but jeno is F A R from C H I L L

oh my goodness,,

hes a crackhead

theres this sound he makes when he’s confused and you couldnt figure out if its cute or weird or if he’s doing this on purpose or thats just how he is

you and him basically communicate with memes

sometimes, at the weird hours at night, he sends you a dumbass meme

you cant help but snort 

also, you promised to take jaemin out to dinner to repay him for the great roommate

‘hes literally one of the best people youll ever meet. it just so happen he needed a place to sleep. now you owe me’

hes a science major while you were a computer major

he basically brings home weird stuff to analyze and it just hella stinks

but hes considerate enough to actually put it outside

whenever he’s focused, he talks to himself or the thing he’s analyzing

‘okay mr. fishy. your scales are really big and its bigger than average’

its so cute

oof also!

jeno doesnt have a job yet he always makes rent on time with extra money to spare

he even sometimes buys you stuff saying, ‘they reminded me of you’

for your birthday, he bought you a pearl necklace that mustve costed thousands

at first, you thought he was a chaebol or smth

which you wouldve been vv jealous of bc youre a struggling college student who works at the coffee shop

but, you were answered when you caught him walking in half-dazed and half-asleep with cuts all over his face

it was like 2 in the morning and you were pulling an all-nighter for some project and wanted to get a glass of water

but here he is, hood up, lip busted, black eye, cheek cut

you shrieked and ushered him to sit on the dining chair

thinking he got mugged or something, you start drilling him questions

‘hun, if you were beat up, we need to call the police! this is illegal!’

but jeno chuckles and brushes the stray hairs out of your face as you tend to his lip

‘pls dont. if you do, ill be broke and i wont have money to pay rent then i cant be your roommate anymore’

cue confused y/n

‘wUT?’

‘if i dont make money, youll kick me out and youll have to find another roommate. i dont want you to go through that hassle again’

ofc you were flattered that even during this situation, hes still thinking about you

‘how is this making money?!’

‘i cant believe youre oblivious to so many things. i thought for sure youve caught on.’

more confusion

‘eXCUse mE, lEE JEno? since when have you started coming home with all these things in your face?’

you were worried that this wasnt the first time this happened

but if you think hard about it, thats why he always wears his mouth masks and he always has his blonde fringe down and sometimes wears sunglasses even though its cloudy outside

‘ohmygod lee jeno are you in a gang?!’

jeno was shocked that you came to that conclusion but laughed at how adorable you were rn

with your wide eyes and mouth open

‘nah, bro. i box. its the only way i can make easy money.’

‘but,,, why did you hide this from me? if you needed money i couldve helped you’

he looked at you skeptically

‘sis, you could barely afford that muffin the other day’

lee jeno now looked different from the jeno you met the first day

What you thought to be an innocent little squish was a fighter at night

‘yah, can-um-you need to take this off’

you mumbled while tugging on his sweatshirt

he nodded and slipped it off

he explained why he came late when he first moved

‘i had a late night match and yknow,, school and all, i barely had enough time to come'

as you dab the wound, you try to make small talk to distract yourself

 ‘so,, youve been boxing this whole time?’

you asked, trying not to get distracted to the way his tight shirt clung to him, showing his defined body

there were bruises up and down his arms and his knuckles were busted

‘yea. i have been since senior high. gotta make money, yknow?’

‘but jen, you can work in coffee shops or at local bookstores. its not worth seeing you busted up like this’

your lips trembled at the thought of him being beaten up too hard to the point he gets into a coma

jenos eyes widened at your wobbling lips and he softly cupped your face

‘hey, im okay and ill be fine. you dont have to worry about me. i usually win, anyways’

his confidence made you chuckle

‘i trust you, lee jeno. just make sure to make it home to me every night.’

‘i know you do and i will. always.”

ever since then,

youve become his little caretaker

youve informed jaemin of what hes been doing and he knew but didnt want you to judge him immediately

smh, jaemin really sucks at informing people

but jeno tries to help you keep up

he even sends you texts that hes fighting that night and your little ‘fighting!’ always makes him smile

his manager and friend, chenle, noticed that hes starting to smile more

chenle likes boxing and wants to be a part of it but doesnt want to be hurt

so,, what better to be the manager of his friend

‘yah, hyung. what’s got you giggly today?’

jeno pointed to the screen and giggled at the little good luck gif you sent

his eyes turned to crescents and chenle smirked

‘wah, you like her, don’t you?’

at the mention of ‘like’, his smile dropped and he shook his head

‘no. of course not. shes just a friend.’

chenle being chenle,,

he continues to prod

‘okay. so every night, you make it your priority to make sure you’re home by 2 in the morning for your friend’

smh, chenle youre so annoying

but hes so right

ever since you caught him,

hes been making sure he gets home at the same time 

he sends you a text that hes on his way and you set your ringtone at a very high volume so you wake up and take care of him

during fights, he makes it his sole mission to make out of this alive and a winner for you

but that never crossed his mind as his feelings for you

he just thought of it as making you not worry for him

but then, he starts to think about your stupid little habits

the way you make this face whenever you dont understand

or when you still leave little post-it notes everywhere with ideas you come up with

he noticed it all and he loves them

‘hOLy ShIT!’

that night was when he realized his feelings for you and he was so dedicated on finishing it that he quickly won and he dashed home with his money

bursting through the door, you looked at him with wide and startled eyes

‘what’s wrong?’

you came running but he scooped you up to a hug

ok you were confused but relieved that he was home and alright

jeno looked at your face and wanted to confess but chickened out at the sight of you

you were so good to him and honestly, he doesnt deserve you

(his thoughts, not mine)

‘i-i’

he stuttered and you motioned him to continue

‘i won!’

he shouted and you congratulated him, even though he literally won all the time

guiding him to the chair, you began to dab his cuts

(dab that bitch)

‘im starting to think that your opponents either really suck or youre like the god of boxing’

he didnt know how to take that but blushed red at the mention of him being a ‘god of boxing’

‘nah, im just good’

you eyed him and smiled

he continued to watch you heal him and inspected your face

heavy eyebags and sunken cheeks, it mustve been a long night

he felt a pang in his chest thinking that you push your stuff away just to help him

‘you dont have to keep doing this for me, yknow’

you halt and look at him seriously

‘i know i dont. but i cant sleep at night thinking youre in pain and alone when i can be there for you’

even though he just realized it, jeno was pretty sure he fell in love with you a long time ago

but if it was possible, he fell in love with you even more

‘thank you’

his soft voice filled the silence and you vowed that you will always be there for him whenever he needs help

a few days later, jeno hasnt been to a fight

sure you were worried at what was going on in his head but partly relieved that you dont have to see him so battered anymore

but this was so un-jeno

just as you were about to talk to him about it, he announces he got a job at the bookstore down the street

‘huh? i thought you didnt want to work’

you question while he looked sheepish

‘i realized that i was starting to become a burden since you take care of me every time. so i thought i should quit and get a regular job. besides, it doesnt hurt as much’

he laughed but you didnt react

‘lee jeno, you gave up boxing and the money,,, for me?’

he nervously looked up at you and you noticed the redness of his cheeks

‘i-well-if you put it that way’

‘listen to me, im flattered and i truly love that you dont want to get beaten up anymore. but i dont want you to quit something you like because of me'

‘but you always take care of me and push your priorities away to clean me up. i dont do anything in return and i dont think its fair!’

he argued and a soft smile crept up your face

‘yah, lee jeno'

your voice became a whisper

‘it doesnt matter to me if you dont do anything in return bc i dont see this as a favor. you are mine to take care of and i will do anything for you, you understand that?’

he looked at you in shock after hearing your response

he also turned red at the mention of him being yours

‘so-but-i dont think-'

he stutters but you place your hands on his arms making him stop

‘all i ask is you to come back home, to come back to me'

by now, yall were blushing

even though it might not sound like it,

but yall just indirectly confessed to each other

yall stared at the ground and jeno looks up, biting his lip

‘hey, y/n, can i make it up to you with some coffee?’

your head darted up and looked at him with wide eyes

‘like-like a date?’

it came out suddenly and you stepped back in surprise, cursing yourself

but jeno chuckled, eyes scrunching cutely

‘it'll be one of many'

lmao i didnt really like this but i made it at 2 in the morning and i kinda like boxer!jeno

[bittysvalentines]

You Can’t Hear My Soul

From: @eatallofthepumpkinthings

To: @corgiberus

Rating: T

Tags: Soulmate AU, Angst, mentions of anxiety, mentions of loneliness, mentions of defamation of character, mentions of paparazzi being rude, OC, ASL/RSL/Sign language, NHL Chowder, NHL Whiskey, Open Ended, mentions of Zimbits

Note: Sorry I can't write fluff! I hope you like it anyways.

Alexei wakes up groggy. The night before he'd tried to stay up until midnight, his heart racing with anticipation, yet he'd fallen asleep at some point. As soon as he is awake enough to realize why he's so groggy, his heart starts running again and his face splits with a grin. Immediately he feels for that space in his head where the connection to his soul mate should exist. When he finds it, nestled just behind his eyes, his heart sinks.

There is wind blowing past his ears and he knows he won't be able to hear his soulmate. He'd hoped that they'd fall into that small statistical chance and have the same birth date. He knew it was unrealistic, but he still had hoped to hear his soulmate. He often stayed up at night wondering if their voice would be airy and melodic or deep in soothing. Would they be Russian like him, or would they be foreign and the translation weird and distressing. Of course, it wouldn't matter if his soulmate was foreign, living half way across the world even – but it would be so much easier if they were Russian. If they were, then the likelihood of them being close by would be higher. They could be together sooner.

His daydreaming didn't matter now. The connection was open. He could tell his soulmate all about himself and maybe they'd come and find him before their 18th birthday. Even if they didn't come and find him – he had to stop himself . There were only 24 hours in the day and he'd already wasted several sleeping.

“HI! I'M ALEXEI!” He shouts into the connection. His cheeks heat. Why am I shouting? I'm going to sound desperate. he thinks.

He tries to reign himself in, but he knows its going to be difficult. “Uh sorry for shouting. I'm just really excited to talk to you. I've been dreaming about this day for a long time. I can't hear you now. But I'm sure in no time I will be able to hear you. We will talk non-stop on your birthday. I just know it.”

He stays up until midnight telling his soulmate everything about his life.

********************

Months pass and Alexei's hopes fade. He throws himself into his hockey career again. His father is right, if he's going to transition to the NHL he should do it now. He's been working with agents and talking to teams. By the end of the regular NHL season he's secured his spot with Falconers.

********************

Nervousness sits in the pit of his stomach everyday. Without any games to play, he refocuses his energy into learning English. It's profoundly frustrating. After a particularly disastrous lesson, he decides to take out his feelings the only way he knows how – on the ice. He's laces up and heads onto the iced over pond behind his family home.

Who knows when I'll get to do this again, he sulks.

He's skating laps, pushing himself as fast as he can. Suddenly he's tripping over himself. There are words flashing behind his eyes. As he falls forward, he becomes aware that the room where his connection lives is open and the wind rushing past his ears is just from the fall.

“Hello, can you hear me?”

“Are you awake? I hope I'm not waking you.”

“I'm really excited to talk with you Alexei.”

As he catches his breath and tries to push up off his knees, his mind is racing. After a few minutes he realizes he hasn't said anything back and he probably should do that.

“OH, HELLO... Hi. Uh... Happy birthday!” He replies awkwardly.

“Thank you! I'm so happy to finally talk to you.”

Alexei is excited but he is so very confused.

“Why can't I hear you?” he asks.

“WHAT?” his soulmate replies.

“It's like I'm seeing your words. I... I don't hear them. Is there something wrong?” Is he sick? He's heard that colds can sometimes mess up these conversations. Or maybe it's because of his concussion. He hopes that that isn't the case. Concussions have all sorts of long term affects, and in his line of work, its likely he'll have another if not more.

Suddenly he feels a door close. He frantically feels behind his eyes for that space where his soulmate just was but its gone. The void is overwhelming and he's back on his knees. What just happened?

********************

Alexei's 19th birthday couldn't come sooner. He's managed to stay up all night this time. Midnight finds him sitting up straight as a board, staring out the window of his senior teammate's guest bedroom. The city lights are stunning. He feels the connection open and he's speaking as fast as he can. Every question that's swirled in his head for the last few months spews out of him. He gets silence in reply and in just a few minutes the door is slammed closed, the connection lost. He cries himself to sleep.

********************

When he decides to put his mind to something, Alexei always manages to see it through. Going into the NHL, learning English, making friends with his teammates, becoming rookie of the month – he set his mind to those things and he did them. He makes his mind up to be as positive as he can about his soulmate. He may not know why they've hung up on him, why they've not talked to him, why they haven't tried to find him, but he knows he can't control what they do. He can only control himself.

With his mind set on positive, when his soulmate's birthday comes back around, he keeps it casual and light. He talks about his life. He talks about hockey. He talks about his teammates and friends. Every birthday flies by like this. His soulmate never speaks, but the connection stops closing right away.

********************

A few years go by. The Falconers win the cup. But his soulmate never talks to him.

********************

There is a movie playing on the plane. It was a tough game against the Capitals and every muscle in Tater's body is beat. He thinks that the movie is a romantic comedy, but he isn't really sure. The actors all seem to be mumbling or talking too fast. Lulling his head to the side, he asks Poots to translate again for the 5th time.

“Dude, Aren't you paying attention?”

“Yes, I'm just very tired.” He gives him his best puppy dog eyes.

Poots smiles. Tater sees a light go off in Poots head and suddenly Poots is climbing over him and stumbling towards the front of the bus.

“Hey who has the remote.”  Someone produces the remote up front. Tater watches Poots struggle with it. Eventually Snowy gets up, rather reluctantly, and helps Poots with whatever he was doing.

When Poots returns, Tater turns back to the movie and is amazed. There are words steaming at the bottom of the screen, highlighted in black, and in Russian.

“Now I don't have to translate.” Poots says victoriously. Tater nodes dumbly. This is what my soulmate's voice looked like.

********************

Its been awhile since he's thought this much about his soulmate when it wasn't his or their birthdays. Stewing on this new information is easy. Making any sense of it, that isn't easy. He tries to Google for some answers but he must not be using the right search words because none of the search results make much sense to him. Once again he finds himself wondering if there is something wrong with him.

After a couple of weeks, he decides to talk about it. He trusts his friends, and the old guys have worldly experience. Maybe one of his teammates will know something that can help.

He's hanging out with the guys, having a few beers when he musters up the courage to bring it up. They're all silent for a few minutes. It unnerves Tater. Am I the only one this has ever happened to?

“Maybe they speak a different language?” Poots says.

“If they speak a different language he should just hear them in Russian. That doesn't explain why he sees the words and not hears them” Snowy refutes.

“Oh right”

“Ive never really heard of anything like this before” Marty says. A couple guys nod in agreement.

“Maybe they're sick all the time?”

Thirdy brings up, “I read a story once that a guy started hearing his soulmate's voice in a whole different language than either of them knew and it turned out he had a tumor.”

“I just had a scan when I had that minor concussion” Tater replies exasperatedly.

“Maybe they're deaf?” Jack offers.

“What?” Everyone turns to Jack.

“I read a book on historical figures with disabilities and it explained that many deaf people and their soulmate's see each others thoughts.” That makes sense.

He goes home and googles some more.

********************

On his next birthday he tries to casually slip in “Are you deaf?”

It doesn't come off casual. Thankfully his soulmate responds.

“Yes”. Then the connection drops.

********************

His family and friends start to worry about him as the years go by. Its not uncommon for people in their early 20s to be single or dating around. But when you're close to 30, people notice. His parents set him up with a Russian National figure skater. She's nice enough but they don't last long with their mismatched schedules and distance between them. He hooks up regularly with a goon on the Bruins for almost two years before he gets traded to the Lightning and meets his soulmate.

On home game nights, when his teammates head home to their soulmates, he returns to his empty apartment. The silence is overwhelming. When he feels like the loneliness will crush him, he turns on ASL and RSL tutorials and clumsily signs along.

********************

It's the off season. Usually he tries not to schedule anything on his soulmate's birthday. But admittedly he's starting to give up hope. When Jack invites him to his summer home for a cookout and a friendly game of hockey with friends, he accepts. Its made easier by B's promises of pie and jam. He's pretty excited until he gets there and is slammed with regret.

Milling about and taking pictures are several PR people from the Sharks,  the Aces, the Baby Penguins, the Belleville Senators, and of course the Falconers.

“Sorry guys, I was just so excited.” He overhears Chowder saying. A few Samwell alumni and Falconers are huddled around Chowder and the keg.

“It's alright Chowder. This is good PR.” Whiskey assures him aloofly.

“Yeah and its not like they are staying the whole party – right?” Poots asks.

They all shrug.

Tater makes his rounds. He gives crushing hugs to his teammates, the wellies, and the players from other teams that he has grown to care about. He shuffles in and out of the house. He helps Bitty keep the tables full – and subsequently helps to empty them of their contents. He plays games on the living room's Nintendo Switch, pongs it up with the Pong Master, and gives piggyback rides to the various little ones. He's enjoying himself, but he can't shake the feeling that he's being watched.

He's pouring himself another beer when he glances up and catches the stare of a Shark's photographer from across the room. The guy is lean, with broad shoulders, and flaming red curls. He's also wearing a serious expression aimed right at Tater. His unnerving blue eyes bore into Tater and suddenly Tater feels very self conscious. He trains his eyes on his cup as he takes a drink. When he looks back up, the photographer's face is buried by his curls. The guy is looking down at his camera. Tater is suddenly filled with the fear that he'd just had his picture taken. For years tabloids have tried to make him out to be a heavy drinker. It wasn't true and he didn't need a photo of him chugging a beer to stoke those flames.

He makes his way across the room and stops a few feet from the photographer. “Hey” he says lamely. He was upset a moment ago but now up close, with the man's pale face turned towards him, he can make out the freckles on his nose. He always had a weak spot for freckles.

He was hoping the guy would at least say hello back. Instead it seemed like Tater had returned the favor and unnerved the guy. His eyes were wide and frantically searching around the room, looking everywhere but at Tater. Finally they seemed to settle on something behind Tater. Turning Tater sees Chowder and his soulmate chatting with another couple.

“Uh, hey Chowder” Chowder turned to Tater and Tater pointed his thumb at the photographer. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out movement behind him, but by the time he had turned back to the photographer the movement had stopped and Chowder had materialized between them.

Then Chowder started introducing them and signing.

“Hey Tater, this is Cody. He's one of our team photographers. Cody this is Alexei Mashkov.”

“Nice to meet you” Cody signed. He offered a handshake.

Tater shook his hand, then he signed back “Its nice to meet you too”

“Oh you know sign language?” Chowder asks exuberantly.

“Yeah, a little” Tater replied sheepishly.

Cody's expression relaxs somewhat, but he still looks apprehensive.

“How do you know sign language?” he asks.

Surprisingly without hesitation Tater responds “I learned it for my soulmate.”

He regrets it almost immediately. He had almost managed to forget that it was his soulmate's birthday. It felt like he just dropped himself in an ice bath. Cody looked about how Tater felt.

Chowder doesn't pick up on the tension.

“Is your soulmate deaf?” He asks.

“Yeah”

“I didn't know that! Are they here with you? I don't think you've ever introduced us! I know Caitlin would love to meet them too!”

“Well I haven't met them myself so.”

“Oh”

Tater wishes the floor would open up and swallow him.

“I'm sorry” Cody signed. His face looks pained, like he felt what Alexei was feeling.

Chowder offers an escape. “We should probably get padded up for the game. I think I overheard a couple guys talking about starting it soon.”

Tater was about to agree, when Cody cuts in. “Wait, can I get a picture of you both before you're all sweaty.”

Tater chuckles at that. “Sure”

Cody maneuvers them to stand beside some of the Zimmerman's tall houseplants and underneath one of the living room's skylights. Tater is a bit disappointed when Cody takes a few steps away to take their picture. Up close he could see the sun bouncing off of Cody's curls. He even got to see his eyes light up when he joked that Chowder and himself should pose like a falcon and a shark respectively. He's still smiling when he aims the camera. Tater is smiling too.

Cody raises his hand and counts down from 5.  With the click of the camera shutter Tater sees words flash behind his eyes.

“Wow he really is a sweetheart isn't he.”

Tater's heart jumps and flutters wildly. He watches Cody's face transform from embarrassment to terror, flaming red cheeks turning to ghostly white. They both stand still, staring at each other.

Finally, Tater asks “It's you isn't it.”

“Yes”

[quickspinner]

The Best Laid Plans

TW hospitals, operating room, mention of a needle, surgery, childbirth, NICU. Nothing graphic as to actual body stuff, but the whole thing does kinda take place in a hospital and there will be hospitally things, so if that freaks you out, be prepared to click away.

I set out to write fluffy Dad!Luka stuff and...I got this instead. I’m not even sure angst is the right word for this. And it doesn’t really go with any of my other stuff so I haven’t figured out what to do with it yet. I was originally planning a collection, which I might still do? But I might wait until I have a nice fluffy part 2 to go with this before I put it on AO3. But yeah, not my normal fare, so I’ll understand if you nope out.

Summary: The birth of Marinette and Luka’s first child doesn’t go exactly according to plan. Or at all according to plan, actually.

This isn’t how they planned it. And oh, did they plan. Because his wife is Marinette and Marinette is Ladybug and Ladybug always has a plan. 

But that was before the phone call and the what do you mean you’re bleeding and no no no it’s too early this can’t be happening now. 

Luka can hear her suppress the panic for his sake as she reminds them that it’s only four weeks early, they’ve passed the real danger zone and everything will probably (probably) be fine. He quickly puts a lid on his freak out (he is supposed to be her safe place, not yet another person she has to pretend for) and tells her as steadily as he can that he’ll meet her at the hospital, and no, he’s not waiting until she gets through triage, he doesn’t care if it might be nothing, it might be something and he wants to be there. 

He gets to the hospital in less time than it takes to jump through all the hospital’s hoops to verify that he is who he says he is and that Marinette signed all the right forms to let them tell him that yes, she is here, and where to go.

Finally he peeks cautiously into the right room. 

“Luka,” Marinette says, relieved as she reaches for him.

“I’m here,” he says, catching her hand in his own. This is a song they’ve sung a thousand times, a dance they know by heart. She calls, and he responds. They’ve done it over and over again, since the first time she let herself fall apart in his arms, when she’s worn to pieces, when she’s lonely, when she has nightmares. 

When she’s scared.

They’re both scared now. They sit in anxious silence as a stream of people who are paid to be calm and reassuring come and go, until the doctor comes in with a grave face and the proverbial good news, bad news.

The good news is, their baby is fine—for now.

The bad news is, she won’t be if they don’t act now. Marinette and Luka exchange one stricken look and agree to everything the doctor recommends.

They had a plan and it didn’t include any of this. They make her take off her earrings. She and Tikki exchange a stricken look, but there’s nothing to be done. Luka quickly wraps them into a tissue so they won’t poke, and tucks them in his pocket with Sass. The blanket Marinette made herself for this moment is not allowed in the sterile operating room. She’s got on an awful hospital gown instead of the labor dress she planned and slaved over with such care. Luka is wearing a stiff paper suit over his clothes and a surgical cap over his blue hair and a surgical mask across his mouth that makes him feel like he can’t breathe, and the whole outfit is hot as hell. Her mother is not here. There is no soothing music. There is no counting or breathing or walking it out or any of the things they practiced. There’s no cursing and crushed fingers and no powering through. They are helpless. There is only a white room and a table shaped like a cross (seriously, what the hell), wires and IVs and a needle in her spine that takes away the pain but not the fear.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, Luka accepts this unwanted reality, takes a deep breath, and lets go of the plan. Marinette is a creature of order and detail, but Luka was born and raised in chaos. He can do this. Marinette needs him to. 

So he sits on a stool by Marinette’s head, strokes her forehead below her own surgical cap and speaks soothingly to her as tears leak out of her terrified eyes. She’s out of control here and she hates it, he knows. “Luka,” she whispers desperately. 

“I’m here,” he promises, covering her hand that they’ve strapped to the table, careful not to dislodge the oxygen monitor on her finger. “We’re gonna be okay. Just a few more minutes and we’ll meet our little girl. It doesn’t matter how she got here. All that matters is that she’s coming and she’s gonna be okay.”

The doctors are formal and preoccupied but the nurses are sympathetic. Neither of them can see past the curtain erected below Marinette’s chest, but at Luka’s quiet request the anesthesiologist at her head keeps her updated on what’s going on.  Luka can’t do anything about the lack of control but at least she can know what’s happening. 

“Here she comes,” murmurs the anesthesiologist soothingly. “One, two, three—and here she is.” 

Luka can’t resist standing up to see over the curtain, and his breath leaves him as he sees his child in the doctor’s hands. He doesn’t want to see anything else though so he sits down quickly, and a heartbeat later the nurse comes to show them the baby.

It’s only a quick glimpse and then Luka has to leave Marinette for a moment, to cross the room and cut the cord and marvel at the impossibly small number on the scale. His daughter (his daughter) is cleaned up and wrapped up and then she’s in his arms at last, and maybe the first thing she saw wasn’t his face and maybe the first thing she felt wasn’t his hands and maybe the first thing she heard wasn’t his guitar, meticulously composed and recorded and prepared and played on loop just for that moment when she entered the world...but she is beautiful, and she will have his hands and his voice and his love every day from now on.

The nurses allow him a quiet moment, and then he carries her carefully to Marinette. They take the restraints off Marinette so that she can touch and caress the tiny face, and Luka leans close so she can press a kiss in soft black hair. It’s one moment of peace before the chaos descends again, and the nurses gently insist that the tiny newborn must come to the NICU for tests and observation. 

Luka looks at Marinette, his face stone, but she presses her lips together and says, “Go with her.”

Luka kisses her and promises he will be back as soon as he can. It feels like his heart tears in two and he leaves half behind as he follows the nurses out of the room.

The NICU nurses that take over as soon as they cross the ward threshold are competent and caring but bossy in a manner that rubs Luka the wrong way. Part of him can appreciate their dedication and the need to protect their tiny charges, but that doesn’t stop the swell of righteousness indignation. A growl of “I’m her father,” passes his lips when the nurses suggest that he should leave the baby to them. She’s tiny in the plastic bin they’re calling a bassinet, with a pink sign above it that has two tiny ink footprints next to the name written in black marker: Couffaine, Erika, with her birth time and weight underneath it, and a space that reads “Mother: Couffaine, Marinette.” 

Luka stares at that little piece of pink cardstock, trying to take it all in. The nurses bring a bottle of formula and he feels another pang—this is not the way we planned it—before he insists on taking the bottle and feeding his daughter himself. 

God, his daughter. 

The nurses object but seat him in a chair next to the bassinet and allow him to give her the bottle (he is her father and they can’t stop him). He is heavily supervised, which annoys him, but Luka genuinely doesn’t want to screw this up, so he listens to their advice. He outright refuses to put Erika down afterwards, instead holding her close to his chest and singing softly to her, the same songs he sang every night with his head as close to Marinette’s belly as she would let him get. He remembers their childbirth classes and puts her down long enough to strip off his shirt. Then he picks her up, unwraps her from the blanket, and cradles her against his chest again, skin to skin. Marinette was supposed to do it, that was what they planned, but she can’t, so he will. Reduces stress, helps with heartbeat and breathing—Luka can’t even remember half of what they said but he knows it’s important, it was important to Marinette too and she would want him to do this, even if the nurses are giving him weird looks and some of the other parents glance wide-eyed at the shirtless man with the snake tattoos holding a tiny baby in the middle of the NICU. 

An older lady in a volunteer uniform approaches him and he eyes her warily until she taps his shoulder, motions for him to lean forward, and puts a warmed blanket around his shoulders. Luka thanks her. She pats him approvingly, and says something he doesn’t understand but does appreciate before shuffling on.

Luka has time to notice the other babies, many even smaller than Erika, in their own little plastic bassinets, and he takes a moment to be grateful that though she seems tiny to him, she is strong and healthy. Sass sneaks up from his pocket under the blanket to peep at the baby. He gives Luka a fanged smile and makes himself scarce again. There are two many people here to take risks.

Only when Luka gets a text from Juleka letting him know that she has arrived does he reluctantly put little Erika back in the bassinet. She looks small and cold in nothing but her striped cap and impossibly tiny diaper, wires on her chest and wrapped around her foot, a tiny cannula in her nose. The NICU is warm and Luka knows the little bed is heated and she is totally fine, but he hates it. There is tape on his baby holding everything in place and Luka doesn’t care if it’s special baby tape or whatever, he hates it. This is not the way they planned it.

But it’s the way it is. He breathes away the frustration. He doesn’t know how to swaddle her (they have a book, but it’s at home) and the nosy nurses have left him for the moment, but he tucks the blanket around her as best he can. Luka glances up at her pulse and oxygen levels on the screen. The numbers themselves mean nothing to him, but they are green so he thinks that means she’s all right. He puts his shirt back on and goes to the ward entrance to fetch his sister.

The nurses object again when he wants to bring Juleka in, but Luka is firm: Erika will have a family member with her at all times, and he needs to see his wife. She’s been alone in the recovery room all this time, without even Tikki, and he has her phone in his pocket so she can’t even check on anything. Luka knows what her state of mind must be.

He tries to keep in mind that they mean well, that they have tiny, delicate patients to care for, and so he manages to stay mostly polite as they urge him not to ‘bother’ the baby with a constant rotation of relatives. 

They compromise; Juleka stays, but won’t pick up Erika or disturb her sleep until her next feeding. Someone escorts Luka to Marinette. It scares him when he sees her; she is pale and shivering uncontrollably. “Luka,” she whispers.

“I’m here,” he says immediately, moving to her side and taking her hand. It feels like ice in his. “She’s cold,” he says, looking at the nurse. 

The nurse tending to her brings another heated blanket, but tells him this is normal and the shaking is a side effect of the spinal block. Marinette will be fine. 

Luka presses Marinette’s fingers to his lips and gives back her phone. “The baby?” she asks.

“She’s fine, sweetheart, she’s doing really well,” he told her. “They have her on oxygen and they said something about her blood sugar, but they said she should only have to stay in the NICU a day or two, and then if she’s doing okay she can come stay in the room with us.” He pulls out his phone as he speaks, showing her the thirty or so pictures he’s already managed to take. “Jules is with her now and your mom is on her way.”

“I want to see her,” Marinette said tearfully. “I’m her mother.” Her face crumples and Luka’s heart breaks. “This isn’t the way we planned it.”

“I know,” Luka says, kissing her forehead. “I know it’s not, but you’re okay and she’s okay and that’s what matters. We’re gonna get through the next couple of days while you heal up a bit and they make sure she’s stable, and then we’ll go home and it’ll be fine. We’ll do everything the same way we would have if the plan had gone off without a hitch. We’ll be okay. We can be flexible.” He winks. “Some of us, anyway.”

Marinette huffs a laugh and then winces. Luka squeezes her hand and pulls her earrings from his pocket. She visibly relaxes once they are back in her ears and Tikki zips to cover under her blankets. Luka sits down to wait with her. When her two hours in recovery are finally up, they put her in a wheelchair and push her straight to the NICU. Juleka looks up and smiles and immediately surrenders both the bottle and now-swaddled baby to Marinette. They’re politely reminded that no more than two visitors at a time are permitted in the NICU, and Luka sends Jules down to the lobby to bring Sabine up to what will be Marinette’s room. Sabine has stopped to pick up all the things Marinette either forgot or couldn’t carry in the rush to the hospital, and Luka knows that by the time Marinette gets to her hospital room, Sabine will have her blanket on the bed and her gown laid out, and the little baby caps Marinette knitted set out for use. Just like they planned. 

As he watches Marinette whisper and smile and kiss their little girl, the tension leaves his shoulders, and he knows that everything will be okay. He believes what he told Marinette earlier. Maybe it didn’t happen the way they planned, but it doesn’t matter. Later they will probably laugh and call Erika a true Couffaine for coming into the world in chaos instead of by the book. For now, they have each other and Erika and a horde of loved ones ready to descend on them at a moment’s notice. Marinette will heal and Erika will grow and Luka will never stop loving either of them.

“Luka,” Marinette breathes, looking up at him with a beaming smile as she cuddles their daughter (their daughter) close.

Her hands are full so Luka reaches out and lays his hand on Erika’s soft black hair instead. “I’m here.”

[hi-im-secretly-satan]

The Taste of Salt (Living People are Warm)

Fandom: No.6 Pairing: Nezumi x Shion Word count: 2306 Warnings: Minor character death, parental death, scars Tags: Hurt/comfort, bittersweet fluff, body worshipping Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788664 Summary: After Karan's sudden death, Shion finds himself losing grasp of what it means to be alive and needs Nezumi to ground him. Notes: Written for the @restructuralcommittee ‘s Valentine’s contest with the theme “Types of Kisses”.

There are many different kinds of kisses, Shion learned.

Kisses his mother gave him when he visited her at the bakery or at home. Inukashi’s dogs that enthusiastically licked his hands whenever he ran into them at the marketplace. Little Shionn who padded up to him, begging to be lifted up high and messily bumping his puckered lips against Shion’s cheek.

Every kiss he gave and received was dear to him. But his favourite kisses were Nezumi’s. Fleeting kisses as he was stirring the pot on the stove. Lazy morning kisses over complaints about bad breath. Nezumi’s newly developed habit of taking his hand and kissing his knuckles. Kisses before bed and kisses before work. Kisses that made him dizzy and kisses that made him float.  He had never known there were so many different kisses, but now that he was familiar with them, he couldn’t get enough.

-

It was on a beautiful spring day that he discovered a new kind of kiss.

In hindsight, he doesn’t remember much about that week. There’s a vague lingering feeling of the phone slipping out of his hand when the staticky voice apologetically informed him of her condition. Of the rage burning in his veins when Nezumi had held him back as he blindly rushed into the traffic to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. Of the numb days when they shouldered the heavy burden of preparing for the funeral. Of the emptiness scratching on his hollow insides as he watched the undertaker cover the coffin with dirt.

His most vivid memory was when they had returned from the cemetery. He had closed the blinds and retreated into their bedroom, closing himself off from the bright blue sky, from the sun smiling down at him, from the world that breathed and lived around him as if she hadn’t just cruelly embraced one of her children in her bosom.

Nezumi had left him to mourn, after having promised to come immediately if Shion called for him.

He didn’t.

-

As the sky outside slowly bled out and turned black, silence settled in their apartment like heavy, stifling blanket. When Shion still hadn’t come out hours after Nezumi had tried to coax him out for dinner, Nezumi grew worried. He was only too familiar to the extremities of Shion’s emotions and knew they were prone to be self-destructive. So he reheated the broth he had set aside for him and took the bowl to their bedroom.

When he knocked on the door, there came no reply. He stepped into the room and quietly drew up to the bed where Shion was buried under the blankets, staring at the wall and his pillow dark with stains. Cautiously, as if he could break him if he spoke too loudly, he said “I brought you some soup.”

It took Shion a moment to reply. “I’m not hungry.”

Nezumi watched him for a few seconds before placing the bowl on the nightstand and sitting down on the edge of their bed. He tentatively reached out and brushed his fingers through his pale, almost translucent hair. Shion inhaled sharply, as if he was broken out of a trance.

Still staring at the wall, he broke the silence. “Mom was so cold in the morgue.” His voice was frail, raw from crying. “I kissed her goodbye, but it didn’t feel like her. Mom is always so warm, but all that warmth was gone.”

Nezumi’s heart ached. Shion was supposed to be brimming with excitement, curiosity and fascination, spewing weird scientific facts at inappropriate moments. Not quiet and broken like this, with red rimmed eyes and tear streaks on his cheeks. “We look before and after, and pine for what is not,” he murmured, letting his hand travel a little lower. His thumb gently brushed over his red scar as he continued, “our sincerest laughter with some pain is fraught; our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.”

Shion smiled faintly - Nezumi counted that as a small victory - and scooted a little closer.

“Percy Shelley?”

“Looks like someone has done his homework.”

They smiled at each other. It was a little easier to breathe now. Shion was quiet for a moment until he broke the silence again.

“Kiss me.”

Nezumi happily obeyed and leaned down, softly pressing his lips against Shion’s. It was as if this kiss restored some of the life the recent days had drained from him, as Shion eagerly mirrored the action, burying his hands in his inky hair, effectively messing up his ponytail. Nezumi hadn’t expected the force with which Shion responded and had to quickly catch himself on the bed by placing his hands next to Shion’s head. The taste of salt lingered on his lips. Shion broke away from the kiss and gazed up at him with damp eyes.

“Remember when we were twelve and you were having a fever from the gunshot wound?”

Nezumi felt a pang in his chest. Remember when? Of course he remembered. The memory had stuck with him no matter how much he had tried to push it away. It had kept him sane through the cold and lonely days in the library vault, a reminder that there were still good people out there, and the kindle for a silent determination to see that boy again; that weird, airheaded boy who had saved him against all odds. His hand found its way to Shion’s scar again and he traced the lines with his finger pads. “How could I forget?”

A tear rolled down Shion’s cheek. “You may not remember because you were about to succumb to your fever, but back then you said living people are warm.” He looked up at Nezumi and met his pained gaze, desperation and anguish making his red eyes seem even brighter than usual. “Prove it to me. I’m chilled to the bone, Nezumi. It’s like her cold has seeped into me. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be warm, to be alive, so please, kiss me and remind me I’m still alive.”

Nezumi’s heart both soared and ached. This was one of the many reasons why he loved Shion. In any other situation he would have teased him for saying something so embarrassing with a straight face, but now the only thing he wanted was to obey and love him as much as Shion would let him, as much as he needed him to.

He pressed his lips against Shion’s forehead and heard his breath hitch. “You’re alive, Shion,” he whispered. He kissed his temple, his cheek and tasted the tears that had started falling again. He wiped them away and rested his forehead against Shion's. “You're alive,” he repeated. “Feel the sorrow threatening to drag you under, the anger at life's unfairness; it's a sign that you're living.”

Shion sobbed. He reached up and took Nezumi's face in his hands. “Show me more,” he whispered.

Nezumi brushed his thumb over Shion’s lower lip before kissing him again, a silent promise that he would give everything Shion needed him to give. Gently pulling down Shion's hands from his face, he leaned back and tugged on the blanket Shion was still lying under. He got the hint and pushed them off. Once the blanket was out of the way, Nezumi climbed on top of him. His hand found Shion’s and they shared a loving look before Nezumi leaned down again and let his lips follow the trail of his scar, until it disappeared under the collar of his dress shirt. They hadn't changed out of their funeral clothes yet. Shion had crawled into bed the second he was alone, and Nezumi hadn’t entered the bedroom afterwards out of respect. He met Shion’s eyes. “Can I open this?” It was not something he usually asked, but he did not want to break this fragile moment by taking things to a place Shion wasn't prepared to go.

His worries were put at ease when Shion squeezed their joined hands and nodded. He started unbuttoning his shirt but found it was a pretty difficult task to do one-handed. As he slowly grew more frustrated, Shion let out a watery laugh and let go of Nezumi’s hand. Nezumi shot him a surly look but couldn’t help but grin as well. “Sorry about that,” he murmured as he undid the buttons, with two hands this time.

“It’s fine,” Shion replied fondly, watching as Nezumi undid the last button and pushed the fabric open. Nezumi’s eyes followed the red snake that slithered around his chest. He was no stranger to Shion’s naked body, but the beauty of it never failed to captivate him. Shion tugged on the hem of Nezumi’s shirt.

“You too.”

He looked up to see Shion watching him with intent. He smiled. Of course, it would only be fair. He sat up and undid his own shirt, feeling Shion’s gaze burn as slowly more and more was revealed until he shrugged the fabric off and he bared his own scars to the world. Shion stared at them and Nezumi could only guess what he was thinking. There was pain in his eyes, but also adoration. Shion reached up and hesitantly touched the mark the gunshot had left on his chest. Another trophy of having bested death. A souvenir of yet another time Shion had saved his life. He took Shion’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers, and kissed his knuckles before leaning down again, pressing their hands into the mattress. He brushed his lips over his forehead and wandered down to press kisses onto his pulse points - his temple, his jugular, the centre of his sternum - anywhere he could feel the blood coursing through his veins, the life flowing through him. He heard Shion inhale sharply and couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to Shion and his stupidly intelligent brain to notice details like these even in the middle of an emotional crisis. He pressed a final kiss to his chest before sitting up again.

Nezumi’s eyes flicked up to Shion’s before letting his finger pads trace the red snake that coiled around his body. Shion’s breath hitched at the touch.

“The first night you spent in the West Block,” Nezumi spoke, his touch never faltering and his gaze meeting Shion’s, “you had just survived No.6 hunting you down, only for a parasite wasp to hatch in your neck.” He felt Shion stiffen under his fingers but he didn’t look away from him. “You begged me to let you die but you survived. This scar is proof of your strength. You said you wanted to live, and you did. You’re strong, Shion.”

Shion’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and another tear rolled down his cheek. He brought up his hand and bit the skin on the back of his hand to stifle a sob. Nezumi reached for that hand and gently pried it from his harmful teeth. He pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles before guiding it to his bared chest, right above his lungs. “Do you feel your chest rising and falling? Even now your lungs are circulating air through your body, giving you the breath of life.” He moved his hand a little to the right, hovering over his heart, and suddenly he was reminded of that moment in the vault, so many years ago. Shion had asked to know more about him and Nezumi had replied with a similar gesture, taking his hand and placing it on his chest, making him feel his heartbeat. Thus he asked the same question he had back then. “What do you feel?”

Shion seemed to notice the mirror to the past as well, if the widening of his eyes was anything to go by. “My heartbeat,” he replied with a quivering voice.

Nezumi smiled. “That’s right. You’re alive, and that’s all you need to know.”

Shion whimpered. He reached up to Nezumi and pulled him down, burying his face in his shoulder and letting his tears fall freely. “I love you,” he cried. “I love you, Nezumi.”

Nezumi circled his arms around him, his fingers in his hair and his arm around his waist, and guided their bodies to the side. He did not say anything, but he did not need to. He simply held Shion close as he rode through the waves of adoration and grief. When his sobs died down, Nezumi leaned back a bit and wiped the traces of his tears away. “You feeling okay?” He murmured. Shion sniffed and gave him a small smile. “Yeah.” He scooted up a little and rested his forehead against Nezumi’s. “Thank you.”

Nezumi hummed affirmatively and closed his eyes. They laid there for a while, tired and spent after the long week and exhaustion catching up to them. Right when Nezumi was content to let sleep drag him under, he was startled awake by a loud rumbling noise.

Shion flinched and blushed. “I’m sorry, I haven’t eaten since this morning.”

Nezumi reluctantly opened his eyes and lazily ran his fingers through Shion’s hair. “Go have the broth I brought you. It’ll be cold by now, but you’re a heathen so I’m sure you won’t mind.”

Shion laughed. “Not everyone likes their soup piping hot.”

Nezumi rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just eat already.” He nudged his knee against Shion’s leg in an attempt to push him out of bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” He climbed over Nezumi to reach the bedside table bowl was standing on and settled against the headboard. As he ate the (exactly salty enough) broth and watched Nezumi dozing off next to him, he smiled. He was eternally grateful for that day he opened the window and let in the soggy wet rat.

No matter what life threw at them, they would make it through together.

[bestfriendforhire]

Entry 397

 Knowing that our son wasn’t likely to be tracking days in a week just yet, Alma and I didn’t bother mentioning to him that we’d be arriving on the day we left in England.  Dani was sure to notice if she thought about it upon our return to Somerset Estate, but she was quite accustomed to oddities in time by now and knew better than to mention anything.

 Expecting us this trip, the staff had gathered to greet us before our arrival and were now listening to my wife’s speech, introducing the next heir of Caerllion to everyone.  There would be a press conference later today to introduce our son to the rest of the United Kingdom, but the staff—being as close as friends to Alma—were more important to her.  Following the press conference, we were to dine with the royalty.  Other royalty?  I still felt the notion that I was a king seemed a little weird, given that I really did claim the title simply by pulling my sword from a stone.

 Nonetheless, the royal family was dancing a thin line, given that Godric was against us, but he’d hopefully understand the importance of tradition here.  If not, my wife and I would be paying him another visit to discuss the matter, which I was quite certain he’d want to avoid.

 When my wife’s speech was finished, Alma and I descended from the balcony to let everyone greet James, who surprised many with his good manners.  Even for someone of Slayer blood, being able to speak quite so well at one week old was unique, but most didn’t have my wife’s advantages.

 “Poppy, move along.” stated Sebastian after the poor girl tripped upon her approach, staring with wide eyes as my son greeted her.  She couldn’t seem to decide whether she was more shocked by my son or by my daughter, who was in her natural colors.

 “Y-Yes, sir.” she stated to Sebastian.  Curtsying quickly to us, she said, “Your majesties.’  Then she hurried on her way.

 I didn’t see any need to send her off quite that quickly, but Alma had spoken well enough about Sebastian over the years that I wasn’t about to say anything.

 “Have the preparations been made to visit my father?” questioned Alma.

 Nodding, Sebastian said, “Yes, ma’am.  I will tell the staff that you are indisposed.”

 “Thank you.” she told him.

 “Yes, thank you.” muttered James from her arms, earning a smile from Sebastian.  As we walked away, James asked “Why were we thanking him?”

 “For his service to our family, for his prompt execution of my will, and for his discretion regarding your grandfather.  I have mentioned that your grandfather will be more like the fey in behavior, but please try to treat him with respect.” explained Alma.

 My son nodded, staring around at all of the new sights around him.  In the past week, his strength had noticeably increased.  On the day he was born, he was able to hold himself up and exert considerably more force than the average small child.  Now he was closer in strength to an average tween.

 James could already sense magic, always watching the casting of spells near him.  Now he watched as his mother disabled the traps protecting the area below.  The long descent was equally exciting for him, but the fire startled him.

"Father, we'll burn like that creature grandmother roasted!" exclaimed James.

 "No, we won't.  No fire will harm me, and I imagine that you're rather resistant to heat." stated Alma reassuringly.

 "You imagine!?  Doesn't that mean you don't know!?" he complained.  "Father!"

 "Yes, son?" I asked, adjusting my spell to turn toward him.

 "We'll burn!"

 “Only me!” teased Dani with a grin.

 Smiling, I assured him "If we were to burn, I'd enjoy the shock on your mother's face, and not a hair on your sister’s head will be singed."

 "Aren't you worried!?"

 "Not particularly.  I've been here before." I replied, patting his little head.

 “Burning seems like a terrible way to go, doesn’t it!?” asked Dani, her smile taking on a wistful look.

 "Your grandfather has sensed us.  The mist around him is just for propriety's sake, so please ignore it." stated Alma as we reached the ground.

 “What is…” started James, his head whipping to the side as Gruffydd came running toward us.

 The feeling of excitement entered my mind along with a vision of Gruffydd gently holding his grandson.

 “Hello, Grandfather.” stated little James as he was passed over from Alma to his grandfather.

 “Hi, Grandfather!” exclaimed Dani, grinning at him.

 “Father, this is James Michael Somerset IV.” mentioned Alma, though her father didn’t seem to hear her as he danced around with his grandson held out in front of him.  “And you, of course, remember Dani.”

 He casually took Dani’s hand with his free one.  Aaliyah had thankfully helped him know Dani as family when they were introduced on one of Alma’s business trips to England.

 “He responds before I even talk!” exclaimed James in surprise, leaving me curious what had been asked and said.

 “Like the fey… and me,.. your grandfather can follow your thoughts to an extent, so he knows what you’re thinking.” explained Alma.

 “But you told me I needed to talk after birth.” complained James.

 “Generally, you do.” she assured him.

 Gruffydd was hugging James and meandering away, so we followed him.  After reaching a larger cavern, a fire appeared, taking the shape of a beautiful woman who danced across the floor.  Dani, unwilling to miss a dance,  joined the fiery beauty and started to sing.

 “Mother so rarely danced.” commented Alma.

 “But Grandmother doesn’t look like that.” argued James.

 “She looked similar to that once.” replied Alma.

 “Will I look like her eventually?” he questioned.

 “No, you won’t.” insisted Alma.  “Only Slayers transform into dragons.”

 “Flying is scary.” complained James.

 “You mean wonderful!” exclaimed Dani, returning to singing immediately afterward.

 “Scary.” muttered James, trying to watch us as his grandfather spun around in dance.

 Dani stopped her singing again and skipped over to him.  Grinning, she said, “There are many, many things in the universe that are far more scary, but our parents will always arrive to protect us if we’re in danger.  You don’t have to be afraid of anything.”

 “Except your father.” teased Alma.  “He has the worst temper when pushed too far.”

 I crossed my arms and frowned at her, but she only grinned.

 “She’s right.  Never make Daddy angry.  When he’s angry at you, you’ve really messed up.” agreed Dani, much to my chagrin.

 Alma hugged me and said, “Don’t worry.  Your father isn’t easily upset.”

 “I really don’t think I’m that bad.” I told them all.

 “No, my love.  You typically have good reason to be angry when you are.  We’re just wanting James to know that he has to be well-behaved, not scared.” claimed my wife.

 “Or Daddy will be there, frowning sooo hard at you!” exclaimed Dani, still smiling.

 Gruffydd seemed oblivious to the conversation, completely focused between his grandchildren and his fires, now depicting even more dancers.  My wife and I joined in on the song and dance, knowing that everyone would enjoy themselves more if we participated too.  Visiting Gruffydd was always a strange experience, but helping our children to know their other grandfather was important too.

[revengeworld]

The Flowergirl IV

Soulmate AU

Kylo Ren x Reader

Words: +2.700

Warnings: Almost swearing ;D

MY MASTERLIST

[Kylos Thoughts]

/Y/Ns Thoughts/

Kylo was sitting against the big willow tree and was peacefully watching Y/N who was resting in front of him. He could feel her excitement and joy, now that she was right in front of him, it was much more intense and he realised that when they were apart he didn´t even feel half of it.

Picking flowers from her little basket, she seemed to braid them together, before she suddenly placed it on his head with a smile and he couldn´t even describe what that made him feel.

Everything about her fascinated him, how the last rays of sunshine reflected in her enticing eyes, how the wind was playing with her shining hair and just how beautiful she was,  even more then the stars he was always admiring.

He was just overwhelmed with everything right now, not noticing how she slowly came closer and closer until Kylo felt her fingertips brush over his long scar.

“Who did this to you?” she asked, quiet worried but he shook his head lightly, wrapping his fingers around her wrist he leaned into the touch of her palm and closed his eyes.

“That doesn´t matter any more. All that matters right now ...” he opened his eyes again and stared into hers, which made Y/Ns heart flutter.

Starting to smile again she lowered her gaze and looked up to the sun that was slowly vanishing behind the hill.

“Ah your cloak! Do you want to see it?” she asked when she saw the last golden lights.

“Of course.” he nodded.

Quickly standing up she rounded the tree to her swing, were the dark red fabric was still lying.

Coming back she unfolded it and held it as high as she could so that he could get an overall look at it.

“What do you think?” Y/N bit her lip, because she was nervous that he might not like it at all, seeing that he normally wore only black.

Letting his fingers run over the golden embroidery he couldn´t believe that she invested so much time in this and that just for him.

“Thank you, I don´t even know what to say at this point...” he chuckled almost nervous.

“It´s okay. I´m still a little overwhelmed myself.” sitting down in front of him again, she pushed a few strands of hair back behind her ear.

“That you really are right here in front of me... the most feared man in the galaxy with a pretty flowercrown on his head.” she chuckled and he only rolled his eyes with a smile while her hair fell back into her face.

“It would suit you much more.” stretching out his hand he wanted to brush them back, but remembered how uncomfortable she got when Nil tried to do such things.

Noticing his hand, she lightly nodded to give him permission and he gently placed her hair back behind her ear.

Carefully grabbing the ring of flowers on his head he placed it on hers.

“See, much better, then on me.” he grinned slightly.

Kylo tried to hold himself back, careful not to pressure her, but if he would´ve been honest, Kylo would have it the other way around. He wanted to hold her close, to stay with her until the end of time if it was possible and he hoped she felt the same.

Was this just their bond talking in him, or did he really felt like that. At the moment he would say it was a mix from both.

The only thing he knew for sure was that there wasn´t a conflict inside of him any more, now that he found her. No pull from the Light or the Dark. It was balanced.

“Y/N, Dinner is ready!” they suddenly heard her father call and she slightly flinched.

“I´m coming!” she called back and grabbed Kylos hand. “That´s right, I still need to introduce you. I was so excited that I totally forgot.”

Y/N wanted to pull him on his feet but he refused.

“We can´t, not just yet. I want to make sure it is safe.” Kylo explained and got slowly stood up.

“Does that mean, you are leaving already?” he immediately noticed the breaking in her voice and risked to step closer.

“Of course not.” letting his hand rest against her cheek she carefully leaned into it.

“We just need to be cautious. Understood?”

“Yes, I ...”

“Y/N! The dinner will be cold soon!” she heard her fathers voice again and sighed.

Taking the red cloak quickly, Y/N threw it over his shoulders.

“This will hide you better then your weird black clothing. I will try to get you some normal clothes tomorrow. We will see each other tomorrow, right?”

“I promise.” he nodded, slowly leaning closer before letting his lips rest onto her forehead for a moment.

“You were right.” Y/Ns Father huffed while pointing out of the window, his wife quickly walking to look what he was talking about.

Watching their daughter and the cloaked figure in red saying such intimate goodbyes, her Mother only smiled.

“It seems like we have our answer then. There will be no  marriage, at least not with Nil.” she said before quickly returning to serving the meal.

“Doesn´t that rather raise more questions? Like who is that? We never seen someone like him before. And how does she even know him?” Her Father, of course worried, starting to show his concern to his wife.

“She will tell us, just give her time, my Love.” his wife gave him a small kiss against his cheek and he sat down on the diner table.

“Sorry I took so long.” trying to hide her smile, she sat down onto her chair.

“Don´t worry sweetheart, we saw you were quiet occupied.” her Mother waved dismissive, but Y/N froze in place.

/They saw!/

[I heard.] taking a deep breath, he started to think. They would probably try to keep them apart if they were to find out who he was.

/They wouldn´t./ Y/N suddenly obliged and he rolled his eyes a little.

[Of course they would. They will think the same things from me like any body else.]

Sitting down in his shuttle, she leaned his face into his hands.

/I don´t think so ./

Kylo couldn´t stop the smile that was forming on his lips.

[No, you don´t. But you are not like anybody else anyway.] he said calm and she could almost feel his worrys fade away.

“Y/N? My Flower, is everything alright? You spaced out a little.” feeling a big hand against her forehead she looked at her father, who was checking if she had fever.

Laying down her cutlery, she calmly placed her hands in her lap.

“I´, fine, sorry. Just caught up in my thoughts.” Y/N wanted to respect Kylos wish to wait and so she didn´t tell them, at least not yet.

After a hot nice bath, she was swinging in her hammock, looking at the many stars outside the window.

/I feel bad not telling them.../

[I know. What do they know about the war?] stretching on his bed he looked up at the metal ceiling, feeling Y/Ns small touches while she played with the bracelet.

/Not much. One party against the other. My Father says it´s the same old thing, it never affect us here, because we are such a small planet with nothing to give./

He nodded to himself, her Father wasn´t wrong, this part of the galaxy was mostly untouched by the First Order because there was nothing of interest here.

But his worry wasn´t if the First Order found out, he worried that her parents would take her away from him.

Hearing his Holo Pad suddenly ring, he grunted annoyed.

“What is it General?” he asked after accepting the call.

/The Weasel!/ she suddenly thought excited and he almost started to laugh.

[I thought we are not using rude nicknames?]

/It´s the only name I know for him./ she defended herself, quietly.

Clearing his throat, he switched his attention back to Hux.

“It seems like the Tracker of your shuttle is not working correctly.” The General informed him and Kylo leaned back in his bed.

“Oh no, that is terrible, General.” he said sarcastic and Hux only snarled.

“And here I thought your man were capable to do such a simple task as to maintenance my shuttle.” of course he removed the tracker before he started his journey.

“So what is it that you want, General. I don´t have time for your bickering.” closing his eyes for a moment, he sighed.

“The girl and her traitor friend were spotted.”

“And?”

“And?? Didn´t you want to find them?” Hux was visibly confused.

“Do I really have to tell you everything what you need to do?” Kylo hissed.

“Of course not!” Hux snapped.

“Then do your fuc...” hearing Y/n clear his throat he sighed. “Then do your job, if you don´t need my orders.”

Ending the call he let the Holo-Pad sink on the floor.

[At least let me swear.]

/Alright, sometimes, for special occasions./

Shaking his head with a smile he stared back at his ceiling again.

/Kylo?/ she heard her suddenly asked shyly.

[Mhmm?] he responded soft, the hairs in his neck standing up when he heard her call his nime for the first time.

/I can´t sleep.../

[Me neither.]

/Can you tell me more about the galaxy? I know so little about it.../

Hugging her pillow tightly, she listened to his relaxing voice while he told her about different planets.

When he heard her small snores, he rolled onto his side

and for the first time in forever he was too excited to even try to sleep.

The next morning she was quietly walking down the stairs. Kylo was loudly snoring in her head, which was something new for her since he normally was a quiet sleeper, but this time he seemed to be in a much more relaxed state.

“Father?” Y/N walked through the grass, to reach him at the stable.

“What is it Flower?” checking the horses hoofs, he was focused on his work.

“Can I borrow some clothes from you?” trying to sound as normal as possible, she stroke over Barnabas back to calm him.

“For your friend?” he heart the typical unhappy grunt from him.

“Would that be alright?” she knew she was asking a lot, especially since they didn´t knew Kylo and only saw him for a brief moment yesterday.

“Yes. But it would be nice if you would introduce us at some point.” he huffed and loosened Barnabas Rein so he could get onto the field.

“Thank you!” hugging him tightly she already wanted to run inside when he called after her.

“But don´t forget your chores, just because this man is around!”

“Of course not!”

Looking through the old clothes, she quickly picked a few that would probably fit Kylo, before they could buy different ones in town.

First she helped brush Barnabas before saddling barrels at his saddle, so she could water the flowers easily.

Letting the water evenly fall onto the flowers, she noticed the red cloak between the trees.

When her mother noticed that Y/N had stopped in her tracks she looked up, the watering can hanging loosely in her hand.

“Well go on then. We are almost done here anyway.” she smiled at her daughter who immediately pressed a quick kiss on her cheek before running towards the stranger.

This time Kylo was prepared and easily lifted her up with one arm around her waist. Resting her hands on his broad shoulders, Kylo pulled the hood that was hiding his face back and let his forehead rest against hers.

Surprised she looked into his honey brown eyes.

“Didn´t you want to be careful?”

“Making your parents suspicious of me wouldn´t help us, would it?” carefully letting her down.

“Besides it means a lot for you that I meet them.”

Having the widest grin on her sweet lips she tucked him along to the wide flower field.

“Mother! I want to introduce you to someone!” she called and her Mother stopped Barnabas who calmly let Kylo pat his head.

“This is Kylo.” Y/N explained and Kylo nodded his head shortly.

“Oh my, what a handsome fellow. No wonder you spend every second on this coat if it was meant for him.”

“Mother, please ...”embarrassed Y/N rolled her eyes at her Mother , while still holding on to Kylos hand.

“We wanted to go into town later, do you need anything?” she asked while they slowly made their way back to the house.

“Not in particular, but stay for lunch you two. Your Father probably would like to get to know your friend too.”

Y/Ns Mother suggested and Y/N looked up to Kylo.

“I would be delighted.” he accepted and now she really couldn´t contain her smile any more.

/She likes you.../

[Until we tell her who I really am.]

/You want to tell them?/ shocked she stopped in her tracks and Kylo turned around after feeling the tuck at his hand.

Sighing he came back to her and gently stroked over her cheek.

[I don´t want them to have any doubts that i´m the right person for you. Thats why I want to be open with them.]

Quietly nodding she pressed herself against his chest, while he stroked through her hair.

“Honey, would you come inside please? Y/N wants to introduce you to someone.”

They could immediately hear the heavy steps of her Father approaching.

When he entered the house, his eyes immediately fell on Kylo who he looked up and down before staring at the long scar.

“An accident?”

“A fight.” Kylo calmly answered his question and her father grunted. Exchanging a look with her mother she quietly nodded.

“Father, this… this is Kylo.” Y/N nervously introduced the black haired men and they eyes of her father landed on their connected hands.

“You don´t seem like someone who avoids hard work, how about you help me chop the wood for the fireplace?”

nodding to the backyard her Father already left the house again, before Kylo squeezed Y/Ns hand lightly, handed her the red cloak, so he wouldn´t dirty it and followed him.

“We will be preparing the dinner then. Come sweetheart.” pulling Y/N into the kitchen she helped her mother with the cooking.

“Do you think he likes him?”

Her Mother could tell that her daughter was nervous but reassuringly brushed over her hair.

“I would even say he prefers him to your other admirer.” she truthfully spoke before starting to cut the vegetables.

Sitting at the dinner table, Kylo was just explaining to her parents what his position was, his previous life and his training.

“So you are telling me, that you are the most powerful man in the galaxy?” her Father asked, still not really believing everything he had hear.

“Yes.”

“The Leader of this … Order? Who is trying to rule over everything?”

“Yes.”

With a deep sighed, Y/Ns Father slouched back in his chair.

“How did you even get to know him?” he redirected his attention to his daughter, who was quietly sitting next to this man he just got to know.

“We got bonded a few months back.” she shyly answered.

Her Mother gasped loudly. “You mean...?”

“Yes, suddenly we could hear each others voices. Kylo could even feel my emotions since he is force sensitive.”

Exchanging a look, her parents seemed to come to unsaid terms.

“Then who are we, to stand in the way of fate?” her Father suddenly mumbled and Y/N almost jumped from her chair.

“Really?!” when both of them nodded, she quickly rounded the table to close both of them in her arms.

Kylo however sat in his chair frozen in place, he had never expected that they would accept this situation so quickly or welcome him so warmly into their home.

“I would like for you to help a little bit on the farm then, if you like.” her Father asked Kylo who slowly nodded.

“Of course.” feeling Y/N take his hand under the table, he looked over to her, her beautiful smile calming him down quickly before he returned it.

Tags: @joebob24 @ayatimascd @el-eldritch @weirdothepuppet @suzumebailey @secretlygrantaire @germansarechill @bitchy-ginger-1 @dangerous-but-fun @renpublic @m4shtyx @wintersire @kayyyllluh @green-nightlight @attorneyl

[teambakerst]

I miss my grandma so much. I keep thinking I’ll write in one of my journals and put down all the feelings I haven’t been able to express with family or friends, but then no one will read it, so what’s the point? The same could be said about strangers on the internet reading my personal posts, but whatever. Talking to family just makes me cry and talking to friends doesn’t happen, because no one asks about it anymore. At the same time, I don’t want to put a burden on them, they have their own lives to deal with. It’s too graphic, traumatic, etc. So, I don’t know what else to do but lay it all out here.

My grandma died in March from multiple forms of cancer, all diagnosed too late, and at different times. First, the doctors found black spots on her lungs. Then it was pancreatic cancer. Then we found out it was in her bones.

I couldn’t even react when I found out about the bone cancer. My dad called my mom to tell her, and she told me and my other grandparents. At the time, my mom was in the hospital for an infection, which can be deadly for someone going through chemotherapy. Surprise! Two family members with cancer. They caught mom’s at stage 2. She’s doing better now, about to start radiation...

So she told me my grandma had lesions in her skull. We knew she was dying, but this was terrifying. Cancer’s a fucking monster.

I left the hospital a while later, not feeling well. I caught pneumonia, which sucked by itself, but had another impact on what happened next. The doctors told us my grandma might have two more months to live. They don’t offer real hospice care unless a patient needs a qualified nurse around the clock, so they set us up with a hospital bed and some other supplies in our own home (and a nurse who visited once every couple days). We rearranged our living room for her and brought some of her clothes, pillows, and stuffed animals over from her house. She really, really, did not want to stay with us. Not because she didn’t love us, but because she loved her house and was used to being independent. She’d been suffering from dementia for a long time, so she was often confused about the state of her health and couldn’t understand why we wouldn’t take her home no matter how many times we explained it.

Everyone agreed I shouldn’t be around my mom or my grandma when their immune systems were compromised, so I spent a lot of the time I was sick in my room upstairs. My grandma only lived for two more weeks.

I was so mad for most of that time, mad I was sick, mad the doctors weren’t doing anything for her. And I mean, anything. Apparently, my diabetic grandma didn’t need insulin anymore, because cancer feeds on sugar. Except when her blood sugar spiked too high and they had to take her from our house on a gurney to a rehabilitation facility (??? not a hospital?) to try to bring it back down.

I had a bad feeling when they took her. And nothing but bad feelings every time I went to bed, afraid she wouldn’t wake up the next morning.

During the week she spent at our house, she started hallucinating from not getting enough oxygen. And she was seeing weird things. Squiggly lines and pictures on the walls, rays of light, strangely negative biblical phrases (something about her being a sinner). Hearing things, too. A man behind her calling her name. Her dad, who passed away a long time ago. She would talk to people who weren’t there, sometimes in Spanish. We got her some oxygen tanks, but her condition only improved mildly. She was in and out of sleep all the time. I just tried to reassure her she was safe, especially when she thought she saw smoke in the house. She had a hard time moving and it usually took a long time to get her from the family room couch to the bed. I made sure she was comfy and we would usually talk a little bit, just us two, before I went to bed.

There was one good day where I gave her interview questions and she was lucid enough to answer them. Stuff about college and her friends and vacations. I wrote it all down.

But there was a shift when they took her to the rehab place. I worked the next day. I was taking pay at the drive-thru window when I felt my phone start buzzing in my pocket, over and over. I didn’t want to answer it, because I knew it would be bad news. Then the DQ phone rang and my coworker brought it over to me--my sister called. She said Nani wasn’t responding and I better come over there quick, because it might be the end. I just started sobbing at work. My coworkers/managers were nice and they told me to go. So I cried while driving to the rehab place, too, I couldn’t stop it--don’t cry and drive! My dad called on the way over, he’d noticed me a couple cars ahead of him. That was a little bit reassuring, and I calmed down.

My dad and I met up in the parking lot and found my sister and my other grandma with Nani in her room. Nani was sleeping and wouldn’t respond to her name or her arm being shaken. We thought it was a coma. Hours went by, she had some of her friends visit and leave after sharing their prayers. And then suddenly, she gasped and raised her arms and she was awake!

We’d thought that was the end. The rehab staff weren’t very helpful, not offering an explanation one way or the other. Come to find out she’d been given strong painkillers (or sedatives? Hard to know). It was hard to understand her when she spoke after that, she was very quiet and mumbly. She did say she wanted a “little hug” from everyone, and that made me happy. She asked my uncle to play a song for her. He’d brought his guitar and sung something special for st. patrick’s day. It was very beautiful and I ran to the bathroom in her room, because I started crying again and I didn’t want her to see.

She stayed at that center for a few days, but because healthcare is weird and sucky they said they couldn’t keep her there. It was a rehab place, not a hospice, after all. (I’m still pissed they wouldn’t give her an IV when she stopped eating and drinking. AND they forgot her insulin and claimed they’d given it to her even when I told them I hadn’t left the room and never saw the nurse return with it. High blood sugar was the reason she was there in the first place.)

So they moved my grandma to another rehab place. This one wasn’t as nice. I visited her after school, because through all of this I was still trying to finish off the semester... The doctors helped my grandma into a wheelchair and we took her to a dinner table where the other patients could eat together. My grandma “ordered” some tea and did a little dance--I think my phone’s ringtone went off or something. She was almost normal. That was the last time I saw her alive. My dad, sister, and I let her have dinner with my uncle because he hadn’t gotten a chance to be alone with her.

They moved her, again, to what’s called a group home. My parents and sister visited her there, but I had school and work again. I got a text from my dad at work, saying I should probably leave now and come home. I knew she’d passed.

It was a strange feeling. I guess it would be called numbness. My sister was home and confirmed what I’d thought. My parents were on their way home from a family wedding. I went up to my room and kind of stood there.

Then my parents got home and we went to the group home. It was the first time I was seeing it. It was nice. The people there said they were sorry. I didn’t really realize we were going to see her body until my sister led the way to her room. I kind of lingered back, not knowing if I wanted to see. We all went in and my grandma was there on the bed, with her mouth open and her lips blue. My dad tried to “wake her up.” Kind of like before, when she hadn’t really gone. He blamed himself, outloud. But there was nothing we could’ve done differently. He told me she was still warm if I wanted to hug her or give her a kiss, but I couldn’t. I just wanted to remember what she was like alive. I knelt beside her and said a prayer instead.

I don’t remember what it’s called right now but we had a ceremony before the funeral where we prayed the rosary with my grandma preserved in her coffin. The priest had everyone make the sign of the cross over her forehead. I was the first to do it. I didn’t like it because her skin was cold and hard. I petted her hair, which felt the same. Soft. The funeral director gave my sister and I paper to write Nani a letter, which we folded up and put in her coffin. I thanked her for everything and all the time we spent together.

The funeral was very nice and I didn’t cry then. Lots of tears during the before-ceremony. I don’t know what it was at the funeral, but I’ve cried a lot since then. I still wish I could go back and not get sick. Go back and see her in the group home. My parents said she wasn’t really lucid or talkative when she was there, but I still want things to be different. I wish the hospital had given her a damn CT scan during the many, many times I took her there for her uncontrolled blood sugar, hernia, etc. Good to know the blood sugar thing is a sign of pancreatic cancer.

My mom having cancer at the same time is still something I’m dealing with. And she’s dealing with. And dad’s dealing with. On and on. I don’t like thinking about cancer in my future. We’re all trying to eat better and use natural products. Mom’s breast cancer isn’t genetic, but they never tested my grandma’s.

Everytime I think of a happy memory with my Nani, it’s followed by “and you’ll never see her/hear her/be able to do that with her again.” I would like the second part of the thought to disappear. I’ve been having weird dreams with her still. Not the kind where a family member visits you and bestows upon you wisdom, a friendly greeting, or an I love you. Instead, it’s her as a restless ghost, a corpse, or the confused version of herself before she died where in the dream I’m still aware she’s gone. I want her back, I want to forget all this sadness. I want the dreams to end. Or at least give me some peace.

[softboywriting]

Y’all need to know something that’s going on with me right now. I’m making this post in your best interest because I feel like it’s important that other writers and bloggers who follow me should know. If you follow or contact the user ironfurycollector, they are not an honest person and faked their own death to me. 

Okay so I started talking to her in September and it was great. both Shawn fans and she loved my fics. we exchanged a few pics, and we talked about our lives a little bit from time to time. but i started to wonder why she never posted anything on her blog, only liked everything. no big deal. some people just dont reblog a lot. 

then there was some outtake pics she bought that she was gonna email to me and when she sent them they were from her ‘brother’s email. she said something about hers being hacked a while back. now the question is, why not just make a new one? it takes ten seconds. (this email fiasco can be backed up by another trusted friend, more to come on this.) 

it was a red flag but i ignored it and moved on. we talked more and more about shawn and my fics. (side note: some time in December she sent me a pic that her friend recently took but she was in a hoodie and a puffy coat, it’s dead ass summer in AUS rn. NOT coat weather. i mentioned this in the chat but she just moved on to another topic) but then i started getting really suspicious after she entered this relationship with her brother’s best friend. see, it was too perfect, too ‘fic’ like but i just went with it cuz it was interesting and maybe he was this good and i was a sucker for it.

but then it just got over the top. the stories, the details, it just was too much for a first time relationship and the guy/her being only 18-19 years old. 

so at one point he supposedly left a little scavenger hunt of notes around her place when she fell asleep and he had to leave. this was only a week or two into their relationship. pretty unbelievable. so then shes sending me pics of the little riddle notes for her scavenger hunt and the handwriting changed half way thru. also, one of the pics there was a guy’s leg in the pic. and she lied to me and said it was a fake one her brother pranked her with on Halloween. well. i called her on that, asking for a pic of it and she fessed up to lying saying ‘she was embarrassed cuz she couldn't figure out the clues and she had her friend Bradley come over to help her’. which, honestly sure i’d buy but why lie? and how fast did he get there? smells fishy.

moving on. i was confused cuz she said her friend was named Bradley. well. that was also the name on the ‘brother’s email’ she was using. i called her on this. she said they are both Bradley and she calls her brother B. I was iffy. What are the chances. Honestly. 

At this time i called her out and told her i thought she was cat fishing me. and asked to see a pic of her with the notes from the scavenger hunt. which she took forever to send a pic, making up the excuse of being in the bathroom, and they getting dressed but finally did. it appeared she was holding the notes but idk tbh. (in all her pics shes sent it’s clearly the same girl)

Fast forward and she has this wild weekend with her now boyfriend/ brother’s best friend. like so much sex. it’s literally impossible how long they supposedly went and how many times her boyfriend supposedly came. it was just too wild and for her claiming to be a virgin, it was too much and he, being a supposedly 18yr old was way too experienced sounding. seriously. it was like a fic.

so like i asked for a pic of her boyfriend cuz supposedly he’s so shawn like and shit and all i’ve seen was this one generic pic of him (god knows where that came from) and she can’t get any on facebook and blah blah. now i asked several times for pics of this boy (shes with him all the time) but she always had an excuse. always. 

at this point im just so suspicious she’s lying about everything. now her boyfriend is going off for a sports camp thing for a month in the US. shes sad. okay. but then about two days later she says she has some family drama and won’t be available for a few days. im like okay. shit happens.sure. 

she tells her best friend ‘Bradley’ to message me on tumblr so i wouldn’t be lonely. so he had to make a tumblr cuz ‘he just used hers to read your fic’. so im like okay sure. well. while i talked to him i noticed he speaks, types, has the same exact quirks as her. i mean so specifically the same. i use lmao a lot, too much perhaps. and she started using it too cuz we talked all the time, you pick things up from people. but for this guy, whom ive never spoken with and i assume would have their own quirks and way of speaking, to be the exact same is super fishy to me. 

so a few days later she texts me (i have her cell # and have since just after the boyfriend thing started) and shes like saying that she’s not in AUS anymore and that her boyfriend just COULDNT be with out her and paid for a flight to come stay with him for a week in the US while he’s doing his sport thing. Not sure where an 18 year old boy gets money like that let alone how she was staying with him, specially if he was on an exchange program for a school function. red flag. im suspicious. 

so then she says ‘oh its so boring here all day with out him cuz hes at camp for sports” and im like thinking well....you could text me all day or message me on tumblr but you don’t? doesn't make sense. so when i get a chance to talk to her, she says shes heading home soon. and i ask what the family drama was and she says something about her aunt. and i dont remember how it came up but i asked about her living situation back home. cuz previously she’d sent me stuff about living with a roommate but now she was saying she lived with her brother. so i asked. and she said she lives at home but her parents have been away for a while but they just came back and then there was drama with her aunt. like, what? that just didn’t make sense to me at all. she never mentioned moving or anything and always said she lived with her brother (never mentioned parents ever before and also where the fuck would they be for so long??). (also side note, when we first started talking she said she had a horse/pony and his name was Waffles i think and she loved him so much and was always out there with him. never ever heard about this again. ever.)

so here’s the point where i am just done with this and i have a bad feeling and i can’t ignore it anymore. she tells me her boyfriend will be back soon and i should go talk to Bradley about my concept i wanted to tell her about. i told her im not as comfortable talking to him about it cuz it’s not the same. she insists. and then...she calls him Larry. and im like what? who? and she tells me this story how that’s his nickname cuz her mom would call them that when she got mad when they were kids. (that makes no sense) and she called him that since he beat up some guy for her in high school (still makes no sense and now im absolutely done with this not adding up shit) also this whole time ‘Bradley’ hasn’t been on for a day or two. and suddenly as soon as i say goodbye to her. he’s suddenly online. Fishy.

I decide not to talk and i block him to see what happens. nothing happens. so now i decide to take this story to a friend on here who i trust a lot. she tells me to block her and see what happens. see if she notices. a day later and she’s supposed to be home from the US and back in AUS. i get a text, something about a car accident on the way home from the airport. I don’t respond. 

at this point my trusted friend mentions a user randomly contacting her and sending her outtakes in exchange for writing a oneshot a while back. and that the email was weird and ‘fishy’ and ‘from her brothers email.’ low and behold. it’s the same person i’ve been talking to. and she told my trusted friend that she got the pics ‘from her friend’ when she told me should bought them (with what money idk cuz they were expensive $80-$100 per sets and yet she was complaining about bring broke??) 

I go on with my blogging and writing. next day. she doesn't text me. another day and she sends something along the lines of “hope you’re okay i noticed you haven’t been active.” I don’t respond because I want to see if she notices I've blocked her and asks me about it. 

another day passes. 

I don’t get any messages about being blocked, or asking what’s going on or why can’t she see my tumblr, etc. Things that an actual person and normal friend would probably be sending texts about far more frequently than just one or two texts.

so then i get a text today from her cell that says this

which i don’t believe for one second. so i take it to my trusted friend. and she tells me that she has liked a few of her posts since last night. oh. really. blogging from the grave huh? So i ask my trusted friend to message her. to see if she replies. and low and behold:

I’m honestly pissed off and hurt. I called this person my friend. I grew to trust this person and share my days/stories/ideas with them. I have no idea how much is true of what she’s ever told me. I have no idea if she is a real person or another person pretending. But even if all the other stuff that I was iffy on and sent up red flags for me were somehow bizarre truths, this text is a lie. She faked her own death and I am calling her out on this. Because I won’t be friend with a person like this. And I highly suggest no one is because this is wrong and sick. 

[transgenderteensurvivalguide]

Urgent: i'm getting my wisdom teeth out on Friday and i'm really scared of outing myself accidentally after the surgery. do you know of any way to avoid this, or if it's even a thing that can happen?

Lee says:

I don’t think it’s likely, as I haven’t heard about anyone accidentally coming out while wisdom teeth are being removed, but even if you did, you could deny it after and say it was just the drugs making you say it because you were confused or thought it’d be funny and it was on your mind because you saw it in the news or something. 

When I had all 4 of my wisdom teeth out, I didn’t do or say anything weird. I just asked for anesthesia for my wisdom teeth, no laughing gas, and that might be part of it. I also didn’t do or say anything weird after top surgery or my hysterectomy. I just was tired, I didn’t say much, and when we got home I went to sleep. That was pretty much it. Nothing to write home about.

I think that a lot of the time online or in TV you do see people doing embarrassing stuff, and that’s because it’s interesting or funny, not because the majority of people respond that way. For every viral video of someone acting silly, there’s probably many many more people who didn’t react that way so there was no reason to film them or their video didn’t get as many notes. Similarly, in TV shows they act funny because it’s a plot point- if the character got their wisdom teeth removed and nothing happened, then there’s no reason to include it, so they have to make it interesting. 

Sidenote- don’t bind during anything when you’re under anesthesia!

Here are some reassurances I’ve gathered from the followers and answers other mods have previously written:

Fox says:

You don’t have in-depth conversations. I was quiet, for the most part, and when I did speak, it was about nothing– sometimes gibberish. You sober up pretty fast, too. Seriously, you wake up, they drag you to a room and sit you down for awhile, you feel really weird and your mouth is awkward, your parent(s)/guardian(s) come(s) to get you, and by the time you get out to the car, you’re almost well enough to actively make thoughts into words.

Not a big deal like in movies or on the internet. At least from my experience and ones I’ve witnessed and heard from friends and family. You shouldn’t have anything to worry about.

Kii says:

If you look up post-wisdom teeth videos on the internet, you’ll notice that no one is going to take you seriously while you’re waking up from sedation. I’m pretty sure I woke up and immediately started crying and asking if they could put my teeth back. If you say anything that alludes to you being trans, everyone is likely going to laugh it off.

Followers say:

Anon said: @ the wisdom teeth anon, i got my wisdom teeth out a few years ago and was scared of a similar thing, but even with the anesthetic i was still able to think clear enough to be able to slightly process what i was saying so you should be fine. then again anesthetics can work differently for everyone

pascalethegenderfluidprince said: Chances are you’ll just be sleepy! When I got mine pulled I was just sleeping really long and when I woke up I was a little confused but also tired, so I wasn’t in the mood for talking.

blue-and-bronze7 said: I had my wisdom teeth out a couple months ago, and I was coherent two minutes after first waking up and never said anything weird.

keshiik said: hey i jst got my wisdom teeth out and they dont always give you the drugs that make you loopy!!!!

goshua said: right after I woke up I started talking about lightning mcqueen bandaids. after I got out of the room though I was aware of what I was saying, you should be ok

how-tobe-him said: Best thing to do is to play it off, when I got my wisdom teeth out I said some stuff that made my nurses wrinkle their noses, when asked about it later I laughed it off like a joke.

transgenderadvicegroup said: Hey there! I had the same concerns when I got my wisdom teeth out. Luckily, the stuff that they use to knock you out really doesn’t make you so loopy that you’d come out. When I woke up from surgery, even though I was still under the influence of the drugs, I still had my inhibitions and could remember what I shouldn’t say in front of my family. All I really wanted to do was go to sleep after surgery, and when I woke up afterwards, the drugs had completely worn off, and I hadn’t said anything. So I wouldn’t worry about it, anon, you’ll be more than okay. :)

iaintapartofnosystem said: It also affects everyone differently. Had mine taken out today and I thought I would be out of it, but I was aware of everything and sounded eloquent so don’t stress too much. All that happened for me was that it made me super tired at random times so I took short naps.

istudyhumanhope said: Not to be dismissive about the situation, good luck to the asker… but it’s still so wilde that in America and other countries you get like a full on anesthesia and not just a local one…what are your dentists doing that you need that - sincerely, a european with one wisdom tooth left

sevan7 said: This is for the anon who’s getting their wisdom teeth pulled: I just had mine recently pulled (around April), and I had the exact same fear. Now, you may be prescribed different drugs than me, but it’s not going to make you loopy like the videos on Facebook. They don’t put you on enough drugs to make you that loopy normally. Laughing gas just numbs and relaxes, and the pills they prescribe you after are mainly just for pain and antibiotics. The worst it should do is make you sleepy.

theeverlastingworldiswaiting said: Yeah, I wouldn’t worry too much. I woke up, and the only thing on my mind was ‘ow’ really. You don’t really start spouting anything but nonsense if you want to talk at all, and you’ve got gauze in your mouth so no one hears anything. And I was able to form coherent thought almost right after I woke up, so no accidental outing. I hope it goes well!

little-gay-crouton said: This was my fear too but my girlfriend told me that it really isn’t secrets reveal juice, if something is very important to you and you don’t want other people to know, laughing gassed up you isn’t going to spill thr beans

matcha-boy said: If anon still lives with their parents, you could also tell the dentist you don’t want them in the room until you’re fully off your laughing gas. That’s what I did and everything went smoothly

ragtag-rowan said: Also, I know that I was pretty in control of myself and could stop myself from saying things that I didn’t want to. Not everyone is going to be like that, but if you’re really worried about it, you should be okay!!

reinalagarto said: You could also be sedated via IV instead of Laughing Gas in which case that won’t be a risk at all bc anesthesia doesn’t make you babble afterwards

lihangins said: I was scared of the same thing but even on the drugs you retain some sense of control (at least in my case) so there’s no big worry.

[riskeith]

you just responded and i nyoomed to answer. yes my days consist of waiting for you. yes i’m not ashamed to admit it. <3

that makes so much sense actually? like A Lot of sense. i don’t think you should feel bad about that at all i mean if you are comfortable with how you perceive them then by all means! haha! what’s fun about fanfics is that people can take one character and shape them in so many different ways. canon doesn’t anyways give us depth to characters yet writers do which 🙏🏽 godsent. but then again, it can feel weird if someone makes them behave like ~someone~ else haha. i remember it used to be a hot topic in voltron actually, where people would portray lance as a weak and emotional guy only even if he’s arguably the bravest and most bamf... people didn’t like that very much. do you know what i’m talking about?

I’M SO EXCITED TO READ ALL OF THESE. thank you so much you just set my late night weekend plans 😏. and oh god esselle is the ao3 writer. i love their bnha fics so much. can’t wait to read their haikyuu stuff as well. kagehina too... 🥺 dude, i saw some oikage things last night and i have my eyes open.. 👁 i know you like them a lot so hm... i’ll definitely read that as well i love the summary already.

he’s puppy-like so would he like to play in the water? i want to say so, just bc i think it would be cute for him to splash around 🥺

just one?? wow now i get what you meant in your earlier messages, shskdhsk. all my current friends i’ve known since we were children, i don’t even know how to make new friends irl tbh.... AND SAME!!!! CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS GO BRR. and god the best thing is how things change but at the same time they don’t? like they start to notice little things and realize they’ve always liked them? or the ‘i thought best friends felt like this towards each other’.... aaaaaaaah. 🥺 but then again enemies to lovers.. the tension and the yearning? the moment everything just snaps? god i couldn’t pick my favorite i don’t think. i just love those two so much equally hahah.

if it’s cyberpunk vibes i will combust. i love those aesthetics so much.. (waiting for ps5 to restock so i can run around in night city in cyberpunk 2077 forever.) but yeah it makes sense for it to be themed like that but it’s so funny to think about transporting from the whispering woods to like... large billboards and grungy streets. AR 35?? oh that’s must earlier than i expected. so i take it the main story isn’t done yet?

how sexy, even though this blog is just our messenger app at this point snskdhkddhj.. once again, i’m sorry riskeith stans.. 🙏🏽

i wish i could get you all the cotton candy in the world. and wow kenma HAIR!! sounds so cute but wait oh my god,,, do you have short hair,....... 😳💗💓💕👁💘💝💓😭💗👀💖💓💘💝💞 do you? 😳💢 how was it shaving everything? must’ve been such a big decision!! 😳

ikr? like most of the fics i’ve read portrays them as a angst ship which i do love a lot but you’re right it’s funny bc in canon they’re just.. supportive idiots. i think it’s the oikawa fangirls thing and iwa being annoyed by it that people get hooked on. at least i think since it’s almost always there in the fics... :+ DO YOU LIKE IT? i’m so obsessed with it i saw a edit on ig with klance and that song earlier and it fits them so well too... 🥺 anyway back to iwaoi, i think i like writing from iwa’s pov actually? i haven’t tried writing much from oikawa’s yet but idk.,, iwa’s personality just speaks to me. also i like that oikawa’s personality is so complex to understand, it’s easier to spice up the angst that way. (I DON’T 🥺 it’s such a sad topic for me bc it’s my ultimate dream to drive but it costs soo much money to get it here and i’ve been too busy to invest... 😭 wbu?????) I KNOW MEMO AND OH MY GODNESS? i’m sure the fic is sooo good oh god.... the vibes. 😭 please tell me what it’s about. please. 🙇🏽‍♀️

OH it means that i’m just gonna reread your fics until you post something new... here i thought i was being clever and cute shshskdhdks

STOP YOU KEEP MAKING ME SO EXCITED aaaa ma’am please... think about my heart. 🥺

here’s a new topic to discuss; are you a coffee or tea person? (or neither.. please don’t say so)

kiss, m.a. 💘

i keep forgetting to check whether you’ve responded or not before shutting down my laptop and i’m left to answer on my phone 😭😭 and i too spend my days awaiting your responses <333 but i always forget to check after a period of time HFJSKFKSKCKNC i swear i’m checking like once every 5 min but the moment i forget you respond NCKSNDN

bro (do you mind being called stuff like that lol) writers give us everything canon is too cowardly to give.… truly blessed 🙏🙏 yeah i do!! there are a lot of complaints about mischaracterisation in hq fandom too actually… which i think is fair enough but at the end of the day just let these people have their fun you know.. it’s not harming anyone and if you don’t like it just don’t read! lol

i haven’t read much of esselle’s bnha actually (aside from tdbk) but i just know they’re absolutely amazing!!!!!! absolute legend i hope (i know you will tho hehe) you enjoy her kagehina toooo. and yes oikage!!!!!! omg pls 😭😭😭 i wish they were more popular aaaa

🥺🥺🥺 razor in one of those baby pools.. RAZOR WITH POOL FLOATIES!!! my goodness 😭😭😭😭

fjksnxksndm yeah but i think i might be an outlier in that… LOL oops. and you’re so right like they just grew up together and like grew in love it’s so natural and just comes to them like they were always supposed to be together and they are <333 bc soulmates <33333 BUT YEAHHH THE MOMENT EVERYTHING SNAPS YOU KNOW IT!!!!! god when person A SAVES person B even tho they’ve “hated” them the entire time...… but when they were faced with a tough circumstance they realised they couldn’t bear the thought of being without them 😩😩👌👌👌👌👌👌

omg ps5.… ngl i considered buying a ps console so i could play the last of us 2 chxjjskskxjxjs. have you seen all the cyberpunk memes tho? lolol. nah main story isn’t done!! i think the main story is supposed to develop all 7 worlds until we find our sibling so like.… it ain’t gonna be over for a LONGGGG time (lol omg could you imagine if mih*y* pulled a me and like 4 worlds in was just ‘ok soz i’m uninterested now you can imagine how the game would’ve gone’ HFJSJFKSKFKDJ)

HAHAHAHHA it legitimately is. riskeith who??? more like marriage anon stan account. fjdkfnnd anyways to my other followers hope y’all are enjoying the show 🤪

i do have short hair rn!!! lowkey a bowl cut but i’m also trynna grow out a mullet djksndksnd. and having a shaved head was so nice.. i literally just couldn’t stop touching it after cjskckksnfks. and it wasn’t that big of a decision to me tbh i’m not that fussed about my hair like i know some other people are djskkd the biggest obstacle was getting my parents to agree 💀💀💀 (much like i am trying now..…) i used to have my hair long for ballet, but once i quit i just kept getting it cut shorter and shorter and then voila! shave. GJDJKSKDND

true.. jealous iwa.. i have that in one of my wips i believe FJSJJCKSKDK (it might even be in the memo fic?) AND UHHHH i didn’t love the song ;–; it’s just… slow HFKALDLAKDK and not the mood i was in when i heard it cjdkslxllskcjskcnkscnkzmxmcm omg no not klance 😭😭 they have a lot of angst too.. (i say, as if there isn’t a single klance fic of mine that doesn’t have angst JFJDJSKDJ) OMG YOU LIKE WRITING IWA POV TOO???? you 🤝 me iwa kin. i joke that it’s because i, much like him, am very much in love with oikawa. (aw no i’m so sorry for bringing it up 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 but i’m on my learner’s rn!) IVE POSTED THE OUTLINE ONCE (not a good sign… LMAO) https://kaheyama.tumblr.com/post/190015338287/yall-want-some-iwaoi-angst THERE!! also wait i just realised it has manga spoilers.… maybe don’t look fjdknfjd (you could stop after “pining iwaizumi hajime” but i don’t want to accidentally spoil you 😭😭)

JFKSKSLAKFKSKCJLSKD IM so sorry it WAS clever and cute my brain was just not big enough at the moment to understand 😭😭😭😭😭 but thank u as always i appreciate 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗 so honoured you would even think about going back to them lord knows i don’t KFKSJSKA

HEHEHE NO MERCY!!! but ok ok i shall lay low until the day comes 😋😋😋

tea!! simply bc i can’t sleep if i drink coffee fjskfjsj. but that’s been happening with tea too so i haven’t even had tea recently 😭😭😭😭😭 flavour wise i think i like coffee more but also you get so much more variety with tea? hm. HAHA. hbu??

hugssss, c.r. 💝

[megatraven]

If Love Took Just a Few Moments

Summary: Five moments that lead up to a confession of sorts between Alya and Marinette, and what happens after. Spoilers for Prime Queen are present in this fic. Alyanette.

AO3 | WC: 2384 | Buy me a coffee + request something! | Commissions

v

When Marinette said goodbye to Alya the night of Prime Queen’s attack, she collapsed in her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her heart still hammered in her chest from the events of the day, from the fear of almost losing her best friend.

But she was Ladybug, and she would never let something so awful happen to someone she cared for deeply.

So she hadn’t.

She’s saved the day, Chat by her side, and when she had returned home, she saw Alya safe and sound, not a hair out of place. It wasn’t quite real until they hugged, but then it was, and Marinette had felt a heavy weight lift from her shoulders as she sighed into Alya.

Her thoughts were still on her best friend when exhaustion mixed with relief finally pulled her into a deep sleep, and if she dreamed of hazel eyes, well...

That would be her little secret.

iv

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Alya!” Marinette called out, waving goodbye as Alya left through the bakery.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but that was often a side-effect of hanging out with Alya, and it only worsened when they babysat Manon together. It was the best kind of hurt, though, so Marinette didn’t mind.

Giving a quick kiss to both of her parents, she bounded back upstairs to her room to allow herself a moment to catch her breath. Looking around, she saw a few toys and pillows still scattered about from when Manon was there earlier. Easy enough to pick up, but Marinette’s gaze caught on the picture laying on her desk. Walking over to it, her fingers traced Alya’s signature and her expression softened.

“I’m gonna need a frame for this one,” she said to nobody in particular. In it, herself, Alya, and Manon played together, each of them laughing. It warmed her heart, and another thought came to her. “Or, maybe...”

Marinette glanced up to her bed, and clutched the picture to her chest. Maybe she could make a copy- so she had one to frame, and the other to keep close. For now, she walked up and set it gently beneath her pillow.

For later, she thought to herself, jumping slightly when Tikki appeared at her shoulder.

“Did you have fun today?” she asked, smiling sweetly.

“I did! We watched that video of Alya on Mme. Chamack’s show so many times it’s like, engraved in my brain.” Flopping onto her back, she sighed and rested her head on her arms. “It was also really tiring, though. Manon has so much energy, it’s crazy! My heart’s still racing from it,” she said with a laugh.

“I don’t think that’s why your heart’s racing,” Tikki whispered, and Marinette did a double take. Surely, she didn’t say what Marinette thought she did.

“What was what?”

“I said, maybe you should take a nap, rest up a bit before patrol!”

“Uh huh, sure you did,” Marinette muttered, suspicious but unable to refute it. “What’d you really say?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just get some rest.”

Marinette grumbled but conceded. She closed her eyes and settled against her pillows, ready to fall asleep for a little while.

Five minutes passed, and soon it was ten, thirty, an hour. 

She hadn’t slept a blink. Groaning, Marinette rolled onto her side, careful not to roll onto Tikki, and pulled the picture out from under her pillows.

Studying it once more, her heartbeat quickened and she groaned even louder into her arm.

“Tikki, I think I know why.”

iii

Sometimes, Marinette caught herself staring. There was always something about Alya that drew her eyes in, and that kept them there. Whether it was brushing her hair behind an ear, or the subtle bite of her lip when she was focusing on schoolwork, Marinette couldn’t help but look.

And everytime Marinette caught herself, Alya caught her too. She never laughed, or said anything about the fact, but she always smiled so sweetly, so kindly that Marinette’s cheeks reddened, and she couldn’t move or look away until Alya turned her attention back to her work.

When she was set free from Alya’s gaze, she would look forward and pretend to pay attention to class, all the while thinking about how positively alluring Alya was when she smiled at her like that. 

Marinette would do anything to keep Alya happy, her eyes and nose crinkled from smiling so widely.

Sighing contentedly into her hand, she looked down and started to mindlessly scribble in her notes.

(Later, she tore the pages free of her book, blushing furiously at the little hearts surrounding hers and Alya’s initials doodled across the margins.

They hovered over her trashcan for only an instant before she stashed them away in a drawer instead. She didn’t have the heart to throw out... well, her heart.

Even if there was a huge chance Alya had seen her.)

ii 

Alya’s head laid on her lap, and Marinette’s fingers ran through her curls with a kind of gentleness she didn’t bless many with. There was something calming about it all- sitting in the park, laying on the grass with flowers springing up all around them, being together without a worry in the world.

Days could’ve passed, and she wouldn’t have noticed so long as Alya was there, with her, in their bubble that let the rest of the world pass by without so much as a glance.

But, as it were, their comfortable silence only lasted until Alya checked her phone and how late it was getting. She sat up, and Marinette missed her instantly, her subconscious making her shift closer to her best friend.

“You’ve gotta go so soon?” Marinette asked, pouting just a bit.

“Yeah, Maman wants me to watch the twins tonight.” Alya stretched and stood up before offering Marinette her hand.

Grabbing it, Alya hoisted Marinette to her feet a little too roughly, causing Marinette to fall forward into her. Alya’s arms immediately rapped around her to make sure she was stable, but instead of letting go, she held closer.

Ignoring the dust of pink on her cheeks, Marinette hugged back, hiding her smile in Alya’s flannel.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Definitely,” Alya promised, the warmth of her breath on the back of Marinette’s neck making her shudder.

They stayed like that for a short minute before Marinette pulled away, a bittersweet look on her face.

“You should go. Don’t want you to get in trouble or anything- we’ve got a sleepover planned this weekend, after all!” she exclaimed. Her arms were half crossed, with one one hand brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She rocked back and forth on her feet the tiniest bit and looked up at Alya through her lashes.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. Lord knows I don’t want to get grounded. See you tomorrow, Sweets,” Alya said with a wink. Side-stepping Marinette, she paused half-way through and quickly planted a kiss on her cheek before hurrying off.

It took ten minutes of Tikki trying to get Marinette’s attention for her to fully process what had happened, and when she did, her face blossomed into a brilliant red that Tikki could’be camouflaged against.

It took another ten minutes for her to drag herself back home, at which point she promptly faceplanted into her pillows and screamed, although it still wasn’t louder than the thunderous beat of her heart.

i 

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” Alya asked as she spun in Marinette’s computer chair. She leaned back as far as it would let her, and her head hung off the back in a way that Marinette knew would give her a crick in the neck.

“Always,” Marinette responded, refusing to look up and break her concentration when her toenails were almost perfectly painted.

“You have a lot less pictures of Adrien on your wall than you used to.”

Faltering with her nail polish hovering just above her next nail, Marinette sighed. So much for not losing her concentration.

“That’s not a question,” she said dryly.

“Oh, stop being so smart. The ‘why’s that?’ was implied, you left boob.”

Marinette scoffed and rolled her eyes, but silently cursed the way her stomach did a flip at the topic of conversation.

“First, I’m at least both boobs. Second, I dunno.” She shrugged and went back to carefully painting. “I guess I just... realized that I like someone else,” she said, soft and low.

It felt weird, saying it out loud. But it also felt nice.

Alya stopped spinning, sat up straight, and looked at her. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“When’d you realize...?”

“When I- um, that is, when Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated Prime Queen, I started to suspect. But I realized it the week after.” Marinette absolutely refused to look up now, and instead watched her nails like they’d suddenly started talking.

“That was a couple months ago now,” Alya stated, rolling somewhere else in the room. “Thirsty?”

“Uh, yep, yeah it was.” Pleased with her nail art, Marinette closed her polish and began to blow on them to help the drying process along. “I could drink. Water, please?”

Alya hummed in response and grabbed two bottles of water before scooting the chair over to the chaise where Marinette was. Handing one over, she commented, “Hey, those came out really nice.”

“Thanks and thanks.” Taking the bottle, she opened it and took a quick sip. “Want me to do yours next?”

“Uh, hell yes. Maybe we should do it up in your bed though, I don’t think we have enough room here,” she said, tapping the chaise.

“Mm, yeah, I think you’re right. Meet me up there, I’m gonna just let mine dry a couple more minutes.”

“Okie doke.” Alya rolled the chair back over to Marinette’s desk and headed up to her bed. “So, about your new crush... I know them?”

“Uh huh, you could say that.”

“Not gonna tell me who?”

“I have a sneaking suspicion that you already know who it is,” Marinette said, a nervous laugh escaping her. 

“And how do you know that?” Alya asked, peaking over the edge of the bed. 

Marinette looked over her shoulder at her and rolled her eyes, a small smile on her face.

“Well, for one thing, you were there when she kissed me on the cheek a few days ago...” she trailed off, taking another drink.

“Oh, yeah. I liked her, she seemed pretty cool.”

Marinette choked on her water at that, a laugh trying to come up at the same time the water tried to go down. “Oh my god,” she said between coughs, “you’re so ridiculous.”

“Maybe so, but it hasn’t driven you away from me yet, now has it?” Alya grinned down at her.

“No, I suppose it hasn’t.” Looking at the polishes she had out, she called up, “What colors do you want? I’ve only got pinks and whites out right now.”

“I’m kind of feeling yellow today.”

“Yellow I can do. Get comfy, cause you’re not gonna be moving around and getting polish on my sheets like last time,” Marinette warned.

“Well if you didn’t instigate a tickling war, it wouldn’t have happened!” she called back.

Despite her words, Marinette could hear Alya moving and shook her head. “My room, my rules, Peaches. What I say goes.”

“That’s unfair and you know it, Dupain-Cheng.”

“All is fair in love and war,” she laughed, getting up to put her shades of pink away and to grab her yellows. “Did you want any other colors?”

“Don’t use famous quotes on me,” Alya scolded. “But I’d love some of those cute flowers you did on yours, so white too, please!”

“Sure thing!” Grabbing what she needed, she headed up to her bed and immediately dropped everything on her sheets.

Before her, Alya was looking at the picture she kept hidden beneath her pillows. With humor in her eyes, she looked up to meet Marinette’s embarrassed gaze.

“I didn’t know you liked it that much,” she said, her eyes and nose crinkled in that special way that made everything in the world okay by simply existing in proximity to Marinette.

“It... It’s one of my favorites,” Marinette admitted, bending over to pick up all the nail polish bottles up. “And you signed it, so it’s special.”

“Aw, girl. I’m glad it’s so important to you.” Setting it down beside her, Alya looked thoughtful. “You know, I only have Ladybug’s autograph. You’ve never given me Marinette’s.”

Marinette had to work very hard not to drop the vials of paint again as she stared at Alya in shock. That was short-lived, however, and soon the shock shifted into a playful smirk.

“I’m sure I could pull some strings to get you one, if you really wanted it.”

“Oh, I do,” Alya laughed, laying back when Marinette tapped her foot to signify she was going to start. “I really, really do.”

“Then consider it done,” Marinette told her with a smile. Opening one of her paints, she set to work.

nulla 

That night, after nail painting and the introduction of Tikki, Marinette and Alya had settled in to bed. Marinette was already well on her way to falling asleep, the excitement of the day taking a toll on her.

Alya, on the other hand, laid wide awake next to her.

“Mari, you still awake?” she asked, quiet but needing.

“Mhm,” Marinette hummed out, cracking her eyes open enough to see Alya watching her back.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“You jus’ did-” she yawned- “but yeah.”

“Are we...” she hesitated before finishing,”Are we dating now?”

That woke her up. “Um. Do you want us to be?”

“Yes? Maybe? I don’t know!” Alya groaned. “All I know is that I want to be more than friends.”

Marinette didn’t answer for a few seconds, but did find Alya’s hand to hold.

“Then we are,” Marinette told her, emphasizing her statement with a squeeze of her hand. 

Alya squeezed back and sighed, finally closing her eyes. “Good night, Mari.”

“Night, Als.” Marinette yawned and followed suit, scooting closer to the warmth Alya exuded.

As soon as she fell asleep, Marinette found herself seeing Alya again, and her smile made its way through to her sleeping form.

Everything felt just right.