#SOMEBODY GET HIM TO A COMPETENT HOSPITAL NOW

[themage9062]

I've never wanted someone in-universe to look at a character and go "what the fuck did they do to you" until now

(Minor dog-man spoilers but nothing that wasn't seen in a trailer until stated otherwise)

I'm pretty sure everyone's gone through the "I just thought of the concept of dogman for more than two seconds and have decided it's fucked up" phase but its destroying my mind at the moment

Now I know I'm not supposed to read too into it because George and Harold's writing is generally silly and unrealistic unless they're projecting but i'm going to do it anyways.

How does dogman even make noise?? Are the stiches attached by the top of his neck or the base?? Because that drastically changes his vocal range if it's one or the other. I'm assuming it's he's attached to officer knights body at the base of his neck so it makes sense that he can't speak.

Does he need physical therapy??? I'm pretty sure the human body isn't supposed to move like a dog's. We've all seen him move like he would if he was still normal but no matter how natural it feels we're bipedal and he's forcing his body to do quadruped. Would he have to curb his dog behaviors in order to not harm knight's body? (Note: In my eyes, he 100% doesn't see officer knights body as *his*, even though he controls it. It is one of the last things he has of him after all.)

But he does have moments where he just doesn't do that at all and walks and runs like a human should + whatever fighting style he uses. Is he doing these things off of muscle memory from officer knights body?? If so, what the hell happens if he wants to learn something new??

What does his diet look like? We've seen him eat dog food but I'm pretty sure that's not healthy in the long run for a human's body. I don't know anything about serious about biology, but dogs can't eat chocolate because of their stomach, no? So can he taste chocolate for the first time? Does he inherit Knight's allergies??

[Spoilers below the cut, but the general idea is questioning if he can be counted as sapient or not, so buh bye if you haven't watched it yet!]

Most importantly to me, because I really want to enjoy the Detey ship but there's always this question ringing in my head, did he get smart enough to be counted as sapient? The procedure was vague as George and Harold fumbled the specifics but there had to be some neural surgery from his brain to his body right??

It was cute and all, but his interactions with petey, especially after becoming his friend after he recently killed his best friend was a bit concerning in the mental department. I know most of this can be boiled down to "the middle schoolers aren't Shakespeare" but come on lemme overthink about this

I NEED ANSWERS THAT I WONT GET GAAAAAAAAAH

[cozymochi]

IS THE ASK MEME OPEN? 👀✨ cause if so~!

For Miss Tia 🪷!

Which housewarden does she clash with the most? -And / or - Who does she relate to the most, if any?

Tia clashes with Leona the most, at least ideologically speaking. “You can get anything you want/overcome anything if you work hard enough” vs. “your life is already decided for you as soon as birth so why bother putting in effort?” She can’t relax at all if she isn’t working on something vs. He will sleep the day away while putting work on somebody else. So on, so forth. It’s just two smart, competent people on polarizing ends of an effort spectrum.

Tia can be set in her ways and kind of a nag, and that can be pretty annoying. She is more willing to get on his case as much as he’s willing to counter whatever she spouts so she can get off of it. Leona understands what makes her tick (be it from her pride in her abilities and her commitment to being hospitable) to get her to do what he wants. … However, she can do the same vice-versa with him (utilize his competitive-side or just wear his patience down) if the pieces line up. …She will never admit that he’s usually the one in the right most of the time if he ever has to bail her out… which he does do. Quite a bit. But hey, grill up some meat and he’ll call it even and nobody has to say anything 😌

They can get along. They don’t dislike each other, but they do bother each other and can get under the other’s skin in various ways 🫡 Can you believe they had to share a room together during Book 3? Godlike setup. The stories. Speaking of hell—

Much to her chagrin, she relates Azul the most. They have a lot of shared interests, and both strive to work hard to reach the big dreams they have, are passionate about food, have business brains, etc. etc. Ironically, both want to have successful restaurants at some point, even if Azul wants to expand beyond that and into other hospitality fields in the future. She gets it. Truly.

Unfortunately, relating to and empathizing =/= wanting to be associated with somebody. Book 3 jokes aside, he’s just a sketchier version of her and more willing to play dirtier games. Now all they have is a “business rivalry” between Mostro Lounge and The Gastronomy Clubs unnamed guest room Ramshackle Restaurant (if there’s anything GCUGRR has it’s a set of clientele Azul hasn’t been able to get.) She doesn’t appreciate when people say she acts like him sometimes.

When he isn’t trying to pull one over on her, they can work very well together and get giddy about the same things. Step into a fancy restaurant and they’re both taking notes on the food, atmosphere, the cutlery, everything— All of a sudden it’s like they’re besties for five seconds 😭 until rationale kicks back in.

Competition is healthy, lord knows Azul would rather she just work for him than have a rival splitting the clientele, but a business partnership would be way more profitable 💰💰💰 so maybe she should just sign a collab contract with Mostro Lounge and grant him the rights to Gastronomy Clubs unnamed guest room Ramshackle Restaurant——💥💥 However, as much as she will try to steer clear and shut down schemes, she’s not immune to a good offer on the table. He would just have to find the right one.

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics in which the characters are close to the age they are now in 2024 as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

💠 The Greatest Thing by @infinitelymint

(E, 168k, canon) Harry and Louis haven’t spoken since the band broke up when a dangerous combination of Niall Horan, tequila, and an ordained Elvis impersonator means that the two of them have to embark on their biggest publicity stunt to date - together.

💠  And What If I Were You by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 109k, famous/not famous) For Louis, will losing his sight give him the clarity to realise what is right in front of him? For Harry, will losing the love of his life give him the strength to finally open his heart? And can they find their way back, before they lose each other forever?

💠 Desires for Woolgatherings by isolated

(E, 86k, Maniac au) In the midst of his second world tour, Louis Tomlinson receives the devastating news that his former bandmate, Harry Styles, is in critical condition after an unfortunate accident. 

💠 When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo

(E, 79k, F1 au) In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.

💠 another dream but always you by you_explode / @nobodymoves

(M, 60k, superpowers) Harry is a Dreamwalker; he has the ability to visit people in their dreams and help put them on the right path. He's assigned to Louis, who's struggling after the break-up of his band.

💠  you were in my dream by staybeautiful / @harruandlou

(E, 60k, acquaintances to lovers) Louis woke up after having a sexy dream about his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend resolved to never think about it again. He hardly knew Harry, so what difference would it make? But when they are thrown together only a few days later, Louis had to admit, his subconscious might have been onto something.

💠 I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours

(T, 35k, coffee shop) Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. 

💠 If I had no love to give (I wouldn't give it to you) by @kingsofeverything

(E, 30k, restaurant au) Small town restaurateur Louis Tomlinson needs someone competent to work in his kitchen. Chef Harry Styles needs a job.

💠 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16

(E, 30k, songfic) It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.

💠 signs and wonders by @scrunchyharry

(E, 29k, cheating) On the surface, it looks like Louis Tomlinson has the perfect life; after all, he has the whole package: a white picket fence house (well, his doesn’t technically have a white picket fence, but work with him), a wife, a daughter and a dog. He has it all and he’s not even 30, yet.

💠 Somebody's Got Your Trainers On (It's You) by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(E, 28k, hospital au) the one where, after two years, paediatrician Harry returns to Silver Street Hospital and with it to paediatric nurse Louis' life.

💠 what's left of my halo's black by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove

(E, 22k, fwb) A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for.

💠 Rolling Stone UK Awards AU (series) by INnenaHeart / @thechavier

(M, 15k, canon divergence) Harry started walking away from him and he felt like he was missing the moment, if he let him go like this he would lose on something. Something great. Something beautiful.

💠 Seems You Cannot Be Replaced by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(M, 5k, time jump) Harry and the popular boy in school, Louis Tomlinson, share a tension-filled night together when they're young. Fifteen years later they see each other again.

💠 Tuca Tuca (ILikeYouILikeYouILikeYou) by @persephoneflouwers

(E, 4k, canon) The San Francisco getaway AU, where Harry is needy and Louis has a flight to LA in a few hours.

💠 Let Me Taste Your Silhouette by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k, pwp) the one where Harry accidentally posts a picture to his main Instagram story instead of only to his close friends, and he just happens to be wearing a 28 Official Programme shirt. Louis happens to notice

💠 Jealousy Looks Good On You, Baby by cigarettesbeforesex

(M, 4k, pwp) A flirtatious stranger wanted to entice Louis by buying him a drink from the bar. The handsome 29-year-old tavern manager with curly hair, who Louis (often) flirts with, is currently working on shift...Poor Curly, because he's the one that has to deliver the drink to him.

💠 spring in your eyes by @nouies

(NR, 3k, fake relationship) “Just Go with It” inspired AU where plastic surgeon Harry pretends to be married to his assistant Louis to avoid unwanted attention.

💠 From the Dining Table by @littleroverlouis

(E, 3k, established relationship) Harry's thirtieth birthday hasn't gone as expected. Things start looking up from the dining table.

- Rare Pairs -

💠 Live a Thousand Lifetimes by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

(E, 57k, Zayn/Liam) With the whirlwind about to begin again, Liam re-evaluates the last ten years - the fame, the money, the people who changed his life forever - and the person who walked away.

💠 Eight Days by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 22k, Liam/Louis)  Louis and Liam got hitched in Vegas, completely forgot about it for more than a decade, and it comes back to bite them. Sort of.

[aziraphales-library]

hi, i was wondering if you know any (aziraphale/crowley) enemies to friends to lovers/enemies to lovers, with the fake dating/marriage troupe fics? slow burn would also be nice but if not its okay! any rating will do, but preferably explicit!

Thank you :)

We have both #enemies to lovers and #fake dating tags, so check those out. Pretty sure most of these are on there somewhere...

The Trojan Horse Virus by Greenathena (T)

Aziraphale owns a bookshop in Soho. Crowley leases the space next door for his nursery. And their first impressions are not exactly positive. But when Crowley needs someone to pretend to be his fiance, who better than the bastard next door who already dislikes him? No feelings to mess things up means no problems, right? Right?

wasteland, baby by john1513 (M)

“Listen. Fell. I...I might, uh, have an idea.” “You do?” Aziraphale said, and hated the hopeful way he said it. “I’ll do it.” “You...won’t like it.” “Will it keep me out of prison?” “Maybe. Maybe the both of us. For now. Ideally.” “Then yes.” Crowley’s expression tightened, and Aziraphale wasn’t sure if Crowley wanted to cry, or laugh. “You really, really won’t like it.” “I’ll like prison less.” He responded plainly. Crowley’s face twisted into something soft at first, just for a second, before searing into a careful little smirk, and Aziraphale knew that smile, that Cheshire cat smile, much too well to not be cautious. “Crowley, dear. What are you doing on the floor?” He cleared his throat. “Angel. Remember when I said you wouldn’t like it? Well, uh, here we are.” His smile grew awkwardly, apologetically, and Aziraphale had a sinking feeling about it. “Angel. Will you marry me?” ----- Crowley and Aziraphale plan a fake marriage to avoid having to testify against each other in court...they get much more than they bargained for.

The blesséd language of flowers by elf_on_the_shelf (E)

Crowley has given up on her life in the big city and decided to retire early to the lovely village of Tadfield. She expected a run-off-the-mill early retirement. Maybe playing bridge with a couple of old ladies and maybe taking a part in organising some of the village fetes. What she did not expect was actually competing against the woman she had developed a crush on in the village floral competitions and hence that particular woman instantly taking a dislike to her. She also did not expect that for the sake of the village's reputation they would have to band together and participate as a couple for nationals, because why not...

Love to Hate You by Caedmon (E)

When Dr. Aziraphale Fell meets Dr. A.J. Crowley, sparks fly immediately: the wrong kind of sparks. For five and a half years, they snipe and snark at each other while secretly pining. Then, at the annual Christmas party, a drunk Crowley propositions an equally drunk Aziraphale. They slip off together - and get caught by the administrators of the hospital. To keep them out of trouble, Crowley announces that they're married... and now they have to keep up the ruse to keep their jobs.

Married at First Sight by Aracloptia (T)

“Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over. In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.

The Curve of Old Bones by Jenanigans1207 (E)

Aziraphale watches as Crowley’s smile grows, sharpens and turns distinctively dastardly. And even though Aziraphale knows what he’s in store for, he’s entirely unprepared for the words that slip out of Crowley’s mouth next. “Name’s Anthony Crowley, Aziraphale’s husband.” Aziraphale is eternally grateful that he wasn’t taking a sip of his tea at that exact moment for he would’ve surely choked on it. -- When Crowley claims to be Aziraphale's husband to ruin what he assumes is a date, he doesn't think anything of it. But a day later it comes back to bite him in the ass when Crowley finds out that the date in question is, in fact, his new boss, who is looking to hire Aziraphale and hoping that Crowley, his husband, will put in a good word for them. Now Crowley is caught in a tight spot: either admit to his new boss that he was lying, or convince Aziraphale, his sort-of enemy, to pretend to be his husband to save face.

- Mod D

[littlemonstert-blog]

Explaining What I Shouldn't have to...

My Aynalsis

People act like this explanation came out of nowhere when it was literally right in our faces.

Since there only so many panels I can add i might even do a mini part 2

Yes Naruto reasoning for his crush on Sakura was because his rivalry with Sasuke.

Let's started from the beginning where the author set of the dyanmic between team 7.

This is how

Had it from the very beginning

"Sakura a cute girl i like alot" like this is it. So basically from the start from what we know she's cute. That's it

then introduce sasuke already we seen they already know each other.

People tend to "call cap" like there isn't a whole ass chapter explaining the ONLY reason why he even liked her in the first place. Chapter 3

" All I want is for you to acknowledge me." Naruto really took this up as a competion to go out of his way to make Sakura dislike Sasuke.

He did in certain ways at time saw sakura a trophy in a competion.

How did people take this seriously. A immature boy who grew up without parental guidance.

Chunnin Exams

Chapter 37

For somebody who as a crush on Sakura he much more worried about Sasuke having the attention then rather Lee who's blowing kissing & asking her out on a date.

"Always Sasuke"

Forest of Death

Chapter 57

Don't even get me started on the forest of death that the real kicker for me.

in the dream sequence we finally get to see how Naruto wants to one up Sasuke & Sakura as the trophy

And when Naruto wakes up not asking about her injuries but... about her hair.

Chapter 74

Ya' know this could been a true moment between the two, but Naruto doesn't really care. Always turns to be comedic relief nothing to take seriously.

(This is how sum up there 'moments" could have been romantic but ends up as a joke because the author never takes them seriously.)

Naruto vs Gaara

Chapter 129

'What are we suppose to do?"... Now, thats not something you say when the girl you like is in danger of dying.

It took Sasuke throughout this chapter to remind him to do something.

In contrast with other characters there's no questioning what to do. Naruto does two things; will get super mad and go berserk if you mess with Sasuke or Hinata regardless of what point you read in the story

After the Tsunade arc

chapter 172

Now, people say he was sad because how Sakura ran up to. No form this panel Naruto sees that Sasuke was at peace that why we get that "sasuke..you..." he's been through then decides to leave.

If naruto was all that upset about it we would have gotten a flashback to the scene. But then here we are again with Naruto & Iruka eating more concered if Sasuke will become a chunin chapter 172

Then went back to see sasuke smiling as if nothing happened

Even after this to prove my statement he still wants to check on Sasuke & his wellbeing chapter 173

The promise

chapter 183

Seen people say Naruto was truly heartbroken during this. Which is not true Naruto always knew Sakura has feelings for Sasuke. If it was that they would have had a flashback to the hospital scene. In truth Naruto understands her too and is hurt because he cares about Sasuke leaving too.

After Pein Arc

In this scene it just shows us how they just incompatible they are. Never being able to console each other ( other then when it comes to sasuke) when it comes down to it. Naruto needs cheering up to & I understand Sakura needs it as well because Tsuande is her teacher.

Naruto never paied attention when Sakura has been feeling down unless it possibly about Sasuke.

If it isn't Team 7 mission related or Sasuke what do they honestly talk about? I've never see them bond about anything else. When it comes down to it there friendship has always been rocky.

The kage summit arc

The Promise

Chapter 457

What we've all been waiting for

Here we have it brought up again the conversation between Naruto & Sai

Couldn't keep his promises... Not only did he not answer the question we have the next time when it's brought up again.

Chapter 470

"Doesn't matter about the promise." I want to save Sasuke for my own sake."

Naruto telling her it doesn't matter if there a promise between them and if he never made he still chase after Sasuke....

Then what the hell is it then? This just tells us that his "feelings" for Sakura are shallow as hell and fading.

After this it's never brought up again. Normally if the girl you love did a fake confession like this be heartbroken & could never see them again.

But, Naruto acted as if this nothing ever happen. It's never brought up again.

If he really wanted Sakura wouldn't he have ask his mother advice/tips on this?

Looking back

Chapter 693

you have Sakura confess again right in front of Naruto & he isn't even fazed nor cares by it.

Chapter 691

At the end Naruto still doesn't even mention her to his father at the end.

At the end of it Naruto still doesn't know a damn thing about romance or girls. Why would he? Honestly an orphan at birth will be ignorant to certain situations. Just look at how long it took for Naruto to understand Sasuke.

but the question is when did Naruto start to grow up & mature?

I'd say it the time Jiraya died that when he truly grew up & matured.

May revise when I feel like it.

[ha-18t]

Oguro Kafka - Thanatophobia

Novel

Chapter 2

💬 Translation under the cut!

...

Originally, fishing was something I only did because of the bet with my mother, but I eventually became obsessed. Playing outside was always difficult for me, but fishing was good for thinking. I could strategize about what to use as bait, but in the end, what I caught was entirely determined by luck. That kind of randomness intrigued me.

Ultimately, our bet ended in a draw. The day my father and I went out to compete against each other, the weather wasn’t very good and we both ended up empty handed.

My father looked so disappointed upon seeing our empty buckets, but my mother just laughed.

I spent the rest of that year fishing, up until I experienced a minor event.

Well, I say minor, but… to me it felt major.

“You fish at the hospital? That’s crazy!”

“Hey, hey, what type of fish do you catch here?”

That day, some children were following me around and being noisy without my permission.

The children were a pair of siblings close in age to me - I heard that their father fractured his foot in an accident and was hospitalized. When they went to visit him, they spotted me with my fishing rod and started following me around out of curiosity… That was our first encounter.

Since that encounter, the siblings would always follow me around whenever they came to visit. I wanted to ask them if it was okay that they weren’t in their father’s room and that instead they were here with me day in and day out.

To be blunt, I was confused and I didn’t know how to handle them.

Their father travels the world as a photographer, and they would also usually tag along with their parents for work. However, their dad had injured himself trying to take pictures in an unexplored area of Japan. “We’re happy just to be able to stay in Japan for a while,” they would say, thanks to him.

Well, I wasn’t necessarily interested in what they had to say. The siblings would just ramble on casually, but I didn’t want to hear it.

I didn’t know what these two wanted from me. I wouldn’t even respond when they talked to me. When I caught a fish, I’d explain what it was to them, but I still struggled with even that type of relationship.

Most of the other children just stare at me blankly when I talk to them. My way of speaking was just too complex for them to understand. Even when I tried to speak normally, I struggled to keep up with conversations. But when the siblings talked to me, it was like they were trying to completely grasp the things I was saying.

One day, my father asked me if they were my friends and it made me so angry that I burrowed under the covers. They were absolutely not my friends. There was no way they saw me as a friend either. Who would want to be friends with somebody who only said the names of fish?

“This… here! Let’s exchange messages through this cassette!”

And yet, one day, one of the siblings approached me with an idea. They handed me a cassette tape that looked straight out of the Heisei era.

“I’ve already recorded something, so make sure you listen!” They said, grinning wildly.

I was surprised.

Why? Why would they do that? No matter how much I tried to solve the equation or read into the complexities of their language, I couldn’t get it. An unfriendly and perpetually hospitalized child who can only say the names of fish - why would you want to give a cassette to somebody like that?

I reluctantly accepted it, but the idea made me nervous. It was the first time in my life I had received a gift from a child my age.

When I went back to my room and listened to the recording, the content was trivial.

They talked about their dad’s hospital stay, the hospital snacks they ate yesterday, research they’ve done on horse mackerels, and their interest in fishing.

Sometimes, I would hear the other sibling’s voice chime in.

“-Ah, you’re recording the cassette. You said you wanted to get to know him better, right?”

Every now and then I would even faintly hear somebody who must have been the sibling’s mother.

When I was listening to the recording, my heart started beating fast and my cheeks were completely flushed.

My heart wouldn’t slow down. It was a strange sensation.

I found myself listening to it over and over again.

I was asked to record a reply as well. What should I say?

I thought about it for a while, and I figured that since it was on a cassette, it would be easier for them to parse what I was saying.

Ultimately, I ended up pressing record on the tape.

I carefully responded to each topic one by one.

I wished their dad a quick recovery. I talked about the snacks at the hospital. I corrected their misinformation about horse mackerels.

Originally, I was just going to say goodbye and hang up at that.

“…I hope you’ll come visit me again.”

And yet, I found myself saying that.

I tried to turn it off, but the Heisei era cassette tapes didn’t come with a function like that.

At that time, thinking about the fact that one of the siblings gave me this cassette tape… I felt overjoyed.

I still think that we can’t be friends. But really, deep in my heart, I wish we could be.

For some reason, the words my mother used to say suddenly flashed in my mind.

“It’s okay to be afraid of dying, Kafka.”

Wanting a friend and being afraid of death. I wasn’t sure how my brain connected those two things. Somehow, I feel like my mother would have understood.

After several rounds of recordings on the cassette, I finally said it.

“Come visit me tomorrow… and I’ll teach you how to fish.”

Is what I said.

At that moment, I made a promise for the future to a child I didn’t even know- and at last, we were both communicating.

-

There’s a saying that ‘Good luck and bad luck alternate like the strings of a rope.’ [1]

However, the gods of this world are a little bit cruel to me.

I asked them to visit tomorrow and I made a promise to them for that day, but overnight my health rapidly deteriorated.

All I remember is the tray holding my dinner flipping over as it fell to the floor, the pitter patter of footsteps around the hospital, and the frantic exchanges between the nurses and doctor as they carried me away.

“…he needs an emergency surgery, doctor!”

It must have been my father crying out.

“I agree - Kafka, please…”

My mother’s voice trembled as she spoke.

After that, they put me to sleep. I don’t remember anything after that, aside from the one thought going through my head-

I made a promise… that I would teach them to fish if they visited tomorrow.

If I were to die just like this… I wonder what those two would think.

What… would I think?

For the first time in my life, I made a promise to somebody outside of my family. Teaching them to fish would be nice. Even if just a little… it would be nice to have hope that I still could.

Why have I completely blocked out the idea of making friends normally?

Right then, I didn’t want to die.

‘I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die,’ is what I kept thinking.

‘I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die. I want to live.’

‘I want to stay alive, and I want to keep my promise.’

What have I even accomplished?

‘I don’t want to die. I can’t die yet.’

Even if it’s just something small, I can’t die until I have something that proves that I lived.

With that thought, I suddenly understood why my mother was so afraid of death.

Even though my body is nothing but 14kg of oxygen, about 4kg of carbon, 2kg of hydrogen, 700g of nitrogen, and various amounts of other elements.

‘A person only truly dies when all memories of them are gone.’

If I died right now, nobody would retain any memories of me and everybody would forget that I even existed in this world.

It was a depressing thought. My body and my mind would simply scatter into fragments of nothing into an eternal dark void. It was a terrible and vile feeling.

There is no guarantee that you will continue to live, even if you cling to it - death is unforgiving, and will rip you away without considering your personal wishes…

Ah, this fear…

This must be thanatophobia. I finally realized how my mother felt.

-

When I awoke from the anesthesia, I was back in the same hospital room as always.

The operation was a success.

Above my head, I could see the medicine in the IV pack dripping down.

I was unconscious for a few days - while I was out, the father of the siblings, who I had promised to teach how to fish, was discharged from the hospital.

…I assumed I would never see those two again.

‘I broke my promise, they must hate me now.’ That’s really what I thought.

That thought made an all encompassing sadness take over my body.

After all, it was the first time I expected a child my age to come and see me.

Really, I wanted to get closer to them.

That child, I wanted them to hold the memory that I lived.

Such a simple concept, and yet I couldn’t wrap my head around it.

I should have told them sooner, instead of being afraid.

‘I’ll tell you anything you want to know about fishing.’

‘I just want to talk to both of you more.’

That night, sitting with my regrets, I cried.

The next morning, there was a surprise waiting for me when I awoke.

“Good morning, Kafka.”

Right there in my hospital room sat the siblings that I so desperately wanted to see. The child I had been exchanging the tapes with had been crying, and their eyes were bright red.

When they looked at the IV stuck in my arm, they teared up and gripped my hand tight.

With a desperate look, they spoke to me.

“Let’s be friends, Kafka.”

The second they said that, they burst into tears again. I should have told them sooner. They were afraid that if I would have never woken up, they would have had to say goodbye without me hearing that.

At that moment, it was as if the world was shaking around me.

It was as if my tiny hospital room and my rough illness disappeared for a moment. My eyes were opening to a whole new future.

Mother. This may not be one of the secrets of the whole world. But in my world, this is what uprooted everything.

To just this one ordinary child, who was somebody nothing like me, who wasn’t extraordinary in any way… It was silly, but this person had sparkling and pure feelings for me.

Isn’t that enough of a wonder to classify it as one of the secrets of this world?

…

[1] lit. “Kafuka wa azanaeru nawa no gotoshi”

[roffmychest]

(CW for ableism, misogyny, sex, stalking, harassment, slutshaming)

I hate having autism because I have to do everything perfectly. Otherwise, my rights get taken away! Autism parents are a special kind of evil. If you don’t do everything perfectly on the first try, even if it’s something you have zero experience with, you’re never allowed to do it again and get treated like a toddler as a result.

A good example of this is how I was removed from public school as a 16-year-old because I got a C in one fucking class. I aced everything else but because I messed up that one class and got harassed over and over again by one particular guy and his stupid friends, my mother decided that I was too autistic to be successful in public school.

Instead, she placed me in a private pseudo-school for autistic people. It was made by a lady with no formal educational training who had an autistic son. They taught us well below our actual grade level. I had no contact with other children my age for the rest of my high school education because the vast majority of them were in middle or elementary school. The stuff they taught me was stuff I learned in middle school. I have a diploma, but it’s fucking bogus. I never learned more advanced, mathematics, or had the opportunity to take a foreign language class like I was supposed to.

 I’m also not allowed to date anymore! My mother is one of those insufferable nerdy girls who brags about how she’s not like other girls and likes to put down “stupid women” which in her mind is anyone who isn’t her. The first relationship I was in was with a guy when I was between the ages of 20 and 22. I waited for a whole year before sleeping with him. I went on birth control, and I asked him to use a condom. However, he dumped me and my mom said it was because I chose to have premarital sex, and therefore cheapened myself.

In spite of my educational setbacks, after much pleading with my mother, I was allowed to apply to a college and got accepted. I did really well up through my junior year. 4.0 GPA every semester, no partying, no dating, no friends. I was a model student. At least until I got sick. I came down with pneumonia. That wouldn’t go away despite two rounds of antibiotics and got sent to the hospital. I had to withdraw. After that she decided I couldn’t handle college and wouldn’t let me go back. She refuses to pay for another year because I wasted her money by getting sick. Fuck me and fuck my stupid worthless immune system.

She told me that by choosing to sleep with him, I had exercised, poor judgment, and could not be trusted to consent. After that my access to birth control was removed, and every interaction I had with a man my age was closely monitored to ensure there was no chance of me ever being romantically involved with somebody else. She had me ruled as incapable of consent, even though what me and my boyfriend did was a mutual decision. I had to listen to that bitch tell me for weeks that I was worthless for a relationship now, and was nothing more than blown out street meat. I hate her, I hate him, but I hate myself more than both of them.

One of my old coworkers started stalking me. They figured out where I lived because they were friends with somebody who lived in my apartment complex. They didn’t start stalking me until months later. My mom says it’s my fault because I exchanged contact information with most of my coworkers in case we needed to contact each other to have someone cover or something. At the time, my coworker wasn’t stalking me. I didn’t know they were that kind of person but it’s still my fault and now I’m not allowed to work anymore.

I moved out and was happy for a little while with the life that I built for myself. Except then they switched management, and the new management changed the terms of my lease. Now I have to move. Now she’s having an intervention with the rest of my family to evaluate my intellectual competence because she wants to be placed under a conservatorship

 And people wonder why I’m so perfectionistic. Why I am such a fucking control freak. I actually didn’t used to be like this until she started treating me differently after my diagnosis. I used to be normal until I had to earn my fucking humanity.  When your autonomy, human rights, your very existence, hinges on absolute perfection, you will understand. This is why I need a back up plan for my back up for my back up plan. This is why I meticulously micromanage every single tiny thing I try to do. This is why I am so bossy whenever I have to work with other people. They might have room for error, but I don’t. Any mistakes they make, no matter how small, reflect poorly upon me. I am aware how a narcissistic that sounds, but that’s the reality of my situation. And people wonder why I hate myself so much



.

[mb0328]

Chapter 24

            HARRISON HEARD VOICES. GOD, THERE were so many voices.

“He passed out in the hallway.” One said.

“Probably the adrenaline drop. It says here that it happened under similar circumstances when he was 12.” Another said.

“Wha- happ-” Harrison muttered.

“Mr. Reid? Harrison? Can you hear me?” Somebody asked.

            Harrison gave a strangled groan.

“Yeah.” He muttered and peeled his eyes open.

            Things weren’t exactly clear when Harrison looked around. Everything looked a little fuzzy, and he squeezed his eyes shut again, hoping to make things look normal. That’s when he realized that his head was pounding.

“Ah, my head.” He groaned.

“That will pass. You took a pretty good tumble. You hit your head when you went down—no concussion, just a good lump,” the voice said.

“Who are you?” Harrison asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Dr. Collins. I’ve been looking after you since you went unconscious. It would be best if you were right as rain in a little while. As soon as that IV comes out, we can discharge you.” Dr. Collins told him.

            That’s when it all came rushing back. Hadlee, the seizures, the hospital. He jolted up, startling the doctor.

“Woah, Mr. Reid, calm down. You need to lay back down; you shouldn’t be up yet.” Dr. Collins said, trying to get Harrison to lie back down.

“No, I need to see my sister. She was brought in by ambulance. Is she okay? Did they stabilize her?” Harrison rattled off question after question, still fighting off the doctor’s hold.

“Lay down, Mr. Reid.” He said.

“Woah, woah. What is going on in here?” Somebody asked.

            Harrison looked to the door and saw Maggie standing in her scrubs. She walked briskly to his side.

“Maggie, where’s Hadlee? Tell me she’s okay. They won’t tell me anything.” He pleaded.

            Maggie put a calming hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

“One second.” She said, then directed her attention to the young doctor caring for Harrison. “What are you doing here, Collins? You’re not on my service today.”

            Dr. Collins faltered.

“Iken told me to take them.”

“I don’t give two fucks what Iken said, there was a head injury, right?” Maggie ranted. Dr. Collins nodded. “So, transfer Harrison Reid’s chart to my caseload and return to Iken. He should have paged me as soon as he found out what he was dealing with; he shouldn’t be nabbing cases that have nothing to do with cardiology. Cardiologists, I swear, fucking adrenaline-seeking assholes, the lot of them. And you can tell him that I said that.”

            Maggie glared at Collins as he sulked out of the room. As soon as she was sure he had left, she pulled Harrison in for a brisk kiss.

“Don’t be passin’ out on me like that, Hutz,” She said once they’d pulled apart. “When I heard that you’d gone down, I was already in with Hadlee, and I figured that they’d put one of the residents on my service on your case; they’re at least competent enough to tell you about Hadlee.”

            Harrison put his hand on her cheek to stop her rant.

“It’s okay, Maggie, I’m okay. But how’s Hadlee? Shouldn’t you be with her?” He asked.

            Maggie nodded.

“I need to be getting back to her. It was touch and go for a while, but she’s stable now. She’s pretty heavily medicated right now to keep her down.” She said.

            Harrison’s breath caught.

“What happened to her, Mags?” He asked.

            Maggie sighed and shrugged.

“I don’t know. I’m still waiting on some test results. I’ve seen no reason she should have seized like that.” She said, sitting on the edge of Harrison’s bed. “I’ve looped in Dr. Sebastian in NZ, and he said he’s on standby if I need him to come out. I’ve sent him everything so far, and he’s just as baffled as I am. Something similar to this happened when she was six, but even then, there was some neural swelling and some indication of a minor concussion, but I’m not seeing anything out of the ordinary.”

“Can I see her?” Harrison asked.

            Maggie looked up at Harrison and then at the machines lined the back wall behind his bed. She didn’t like the way his blood pressure looked.

“How about I pull some strings and transfer you two into a double room? I wouldn’t say I like the look of some of your numbers. I also want you to eat, so I’ll text one of the boys to bring you something. And I think that some people in the hall’s been waiting for a while,” Maggie said, making her way to the door. “You up for some visitors?”

            Harrison nodded. Maggie opened the door and stuck her head out into the hallway.

“Come on in, guys.” She called.

            Nicola, Glick, Maxi, and Jesse filed into the room, and Harrison smiled grimly.

“Hey guys.” He greeted.

“I’ll give you guys some time to talk,” Maggie said, closing the door on her way out.

            Harrison looked around the room at his friends but frowned when he saw somebody missing.

“Where’s Jethro?” Harrison asked. “Did he go home?”

            Jesse laughed.

“You think Jethro would go home? He’s with Hadlee.” He said.

“Oh, okay,” Harrison said.

“Yup, he hasn’t left her bedside since Maggie let him in,” Maxi added.

            Harrison smiled sadly.

“At least somebody’s with her.” He said.

“You heard Maggie, Hutz. She will try to move you guys into the same room.” Nicola said, placing a gentle arm on his arm.

            Harrison nodded.

“I know, but it’s hard to be stuck here, knowing that I can’t do anything to help her.” He sighed.

            Nicola gave him a sympathetic smile. He knew that little could be done, but it didn’t make it any easier to sit by and wait to hear something.

~~~~~~~

            A knock came from the door before it inched open slightly. Deano’s head popped in, and he smiled.

“Can we come in?” He asked.

“Yeah, come on in,” Harrison replied.

            Deano pushed the door open more, which revealed Hoppo and Mouse as well. They were all carrying bags of food from the café near the tower.

“Maggie texted and said that she wanted you to eat something. So, we figured we’d bring something for everybody.” Deano said, handing each person a bag of food.

“Where are Jethro and Hadlee?” Mouse asked, holding up two of the bags he’d been carrying.

            Harrison cleared his throat.

“Jethro’s with Hadlee somewhere else in the hospital,” Harrison told him.

            Deano placed a bag in front of Harrison. The young guard nodded his thanks but did nothing further with the bag. Deano sighed, pulled a sandwich out of the bag, and put it on Harrison’s lap.

“Eat it, Hutz. You can’t do anything for Hadlee if you’re not healthy. Maggie said your blood pressure and iron are low. Eat that, you’ll feel better.” Deano instructed.

            Harrison reluctantly unwrapped the sandwich and began to eat. Deano was right, of course; as he ate, he did start to feel better. His headache had begun to subside, and he didn’t feel as weak anymore. However, he still felt the ongoing worry for Hadlee and her condition. The others hadn’t left, even after Harrison had assured them that he would call if something were to happen. None of them were willing to take the chance of one of their coworkers getting worse and somebody not being there for them. When another knock came on the door, Harrison was the first to sit up and alert.

“Come in.” He called.

            Maggie poked her head in, and Harrison deflated slightly. He was happy to see Maggie; they had grown extremely close over the past several weeks. But he wanted to see Hadlee more at that moment. Maggie walked into the room and rechecked Harrison’s monitors, smiling lightly. The other lifeguards sat quietly as she maintained her doctor role.

“Now, these numbers are much better. I think we can take the IV out now.” She said.

            Harrison observed her facial features as she wore gloves and began removing his IV drip. Something was off; he knew it. She was acting too professional. Around him and Hadlee, she worked professionally, but she also joked and spoke freely. He put a hand over hers, stopping her.

“Maggie,” He said, using his free hand to lift her chin so she could look into his eyes. “What’s going on?”

            The look in her eyes was blank of expression, which scared Harrison to his core. Maggie bit the inside of her cheek and averted her eyes momentarily.

“I got the test results back.” She said quietly.

“And?” Harrison prompted.

            He could feel the tension in the room increase. Maggie hesitated and finished pulling out Harrison’s IV.

“Maggie.” Harrison pushed again

“She’s got an aneurysm, Harrison. A big one.” She said, looking into his eyes again.

            Harrison froze. Under normal circumstances, an aneurysm was a relatively simple fix. Hadlee wasn’t normal. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. So many different things could happen, and only a few were in their favor.

“So, what are you thinking?” Harrison asked.

            Maggie cleared her throat and nodded, going back into doctor mode.

“At the moment, I’m keeping her in a medically induced coma, heavy anti-seizure meds, minor pain meds, the works. I’ve introduced an anticoagulant to try and manage it, but the more I’m looking at things, surgery might be our safest option. I’m hoping that the medication will start to handle it so that surgery isn’t necessary, but we won’t know for at least another twelve to twenty-four hours.” She said.

            Harrison sighed and leaned back in bed, running his fingers through his hair. He looked at his friends, who were all in similar states.

“Can we have the room for a minute, guys?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“Course.”

            They all began filing out.

“Deano,” Harrison called, catching the older man’s attention. “Can you stay?”

“Yeah,” Deano replied and made his way over to the chair situated next to the bed.

            Deano had become almost like Harrison and Hadlee's surrogate father during their time in Australia, and Harrison greatly respected the man’s opinion.

“So, management is the current plan?” Harrison asked.

“For the moment,” Maggie said. “But I don’t want to load her with this much medication for too long. With the delicacy of her epilepsy, too much medication for too long could make things worse. I’ve spoken to Dr. Sebastian; he is flying in tomorrow night to look more closely at things. He is thinking surgery is the best option as well, unless the medication starts to handle it.”

            Deano sat silently in his chair, taking in the severity of the situation and watching Harrison closely. The man would be a calming voice if necessary, but he was getting concerned about Harrison’s judgment.

“Can I think through things for a bit?” Harrison asked.

            Maggie smiled sadly.

“Of course,” She said, kissing Harrison’s cheek lightly. “I’m gonna go check in with Hadlee and be back in a bit.”

            Maggie walked out of the room quietly, leaving Harrison and Deano alone. Harrison groaned and sniffed lightly. Deano looked at the young man and saw tears pooling in his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do?” Harrison asked. “I know the stats on aneurysm repairs. That’s an easy six to twelve-week recovery time. And I also know Hadlee; she’d go stir-crazy within a week, and then her anxiety would take her to such a bad place. I can’t put her through that.”

            Deano took a deep breath before answering.

“Hutz, I know that this all seems like an impossible situation. And yes, it is a difficult decision. But, you heard, Maggie, the current plan is management. Dr. Sebastian will fly in tonight, and answers will be more finite. Besides, if the medication starts to manage the aneurysm, then surgery won’t be necessary at all.” Deano reasoned. “

“But what if the medication doesn’t work?” Harrison asked.

            Deano gave the young man a sympathetic smile.

“We can’t focus on the what-ifs, Harrison. It won’t do any good. Let’s prepare for the worst, surgery so that we will be surprised with the best the medication works and handles the aneurysm.” He said.

            Harrison nodded.

“Thanks.” He said, his eyes suddenly felt heavy.

“Of course,” Deano said softly. “Get some sleep; I’ll wake you if there are any updates.”

            Harrison gave a weak smile before falling into darkness.

[acedragontrainer]

okokok i'm gonna place everybody, italian hospital obvi

reborn is a gynecologist, there's polarized opinions about him: his boss loves him because he's competent and keeps it together in front of patients, his coworkers hate his guts and think he does this job because he needs people to depend on him or he'll die, but the nurses tend to take his side because he bribes them, the patients love him because he's charismatic, hr had to talk to him several times because he won't stop dating his patients and co-workers and having big ugly breakups in the middle of the day in the lobby, he's driven off more receptionists than they can afford, he picks one person to drive insane each week, his last assistant transferred out of the country just to get away from him, he's convinced everyone desires him carnally

verde is a lab tech supervisor, not because he wants to be but because personal experience has led him to believe that he is the only competent person in this building so he has to fix all the problems himself, unfortunately he's also shit at teaching so he ends up spending most his time doing everyone's job for them, he knows more about how these machines work than any other person in the building, he's constantly pestering viper about the budget, it's never enough money do you know how quickly these machines become outdated? in six months we will be living in the dark ages! for some reason reborn keeps trying to get him to run paternity tests "off the record", verde isn't doing jack shit "off the record" unless somebody gets him a new centrifuge

lal mirch is military anesthesiologist on loan from the nearest base because the ect department just lost three doctors (reborn ran them off), so she's being overworked (normal) in a civilian environment (not normal) and colonelo is the only thing standing between the poor junior staff and lal mirch's drill sergent tirades (she's used to everyone scurrying around in a panic and considers break time a moral failing), she's far too easy to rile up and since reborn's already been told off for scaring the interns, he's set his sights on lal this week, lal is keeping it together by fantasizing about her rifle waiting for her at the range, she's going to go online to the hospital website and print out profile images for everyone she's met here, and then she's going to pin them to the targets and let loose

colonelo is a nurse anesthetist, package deal came with lal mirch despite her complaining about it, nobody /wants/ to go to a completely different hospital for a few months and get yelled at because you're stepping on everybody's toes, he was the only volunteer after lal got voluntold she was going (her supervisor hates her for calling him incompetent in front of everybody (he is incompetent and only got the job because his dad is a colonel)), colonelo is actually doing really well, the patients love him because he's friendly and personable, the front desk loves him because he volunteered to tell lal that her stay got extended, it's just that if you spend more than twenty minutes with him you realize that he's into lal mirch for completely insane reasons and wants her to stick him full of needles

fon is in rheumatology, originally he was a surgeon in china but due to personal maters (was kidnapped by the triads for a while), he left the country and changed to a much less fast-paced department, he's getting back into the rhythm of things after recovering from having both his legs crushed, he needs a cane but he's got a good amount of mobility back (psychical therapy is currently the bane of his existence), his greatest joy in life is now nitpicking reborn and passive aggressively trading insults while reborn tries to kill him (he's shooting for an insulin overdose this time), fon is doing this for horny reasons, reborn wants fon's head on a pike

viper is a hospital purchasing agent, they originally wanted to become a doctor for the money, but they got just far enough into the program to find out they faint when trying to stick someone with a needle, viper powered through just long enough to have not wasted money, and then jumped ship to the purchasing department, viper is currently blackmailing three members of the board of directors and is in a cold war with the lab techs who want a new centrifuge even though they have a perfectly functional hand crank centrifuge, ungrateful bastards, do they know how much work viper already does rebudgeting this fucking hellhole? they've already sent the two heads of departments to jail for money laundering, that is viper's money, how dare they take that!

luce is the new front desk receptionist in ob-gyn, reborn is currently in the middle of a crisis because he used to date luce's late mother, they broke up a few months before luce was born and luce looks like a carbon copy of her mother, so there's really no way to tell if she's not his daughter, he's been trying to talk luce into donating blood so he can steal it and run a paternity test but he keeps getting blocked by his enemies his coworkers who have seen his relationships blow up and think reborn's going to Cause Problems if they are related (inflicting reborn on anyone should be a crime), several of the other arco were also dating luce's mom at the same time by pure coincidence, This Will Cause Problems

and finally skull, skull is a trans man with dyslexia so bad it messes with his sense of balance and fine motor control, unfortunately skull has a lifelong passion for extreme sports and has just taken up parkour, he's flat out broke but he funds his lifestyle by dating a revolving door of medical professionals, right now he's dating a dentist and just got all his fucked up teeth fixed, but refusing to give up parkour has caused a huge fight, they're almost definitely going to break up soon so skull is starting to shop around at the hospital for a new partner... purely by osmosis, having spend most of his free time in and out of hospitals, and having dated at least three paramedics that actively tried to teach him first aid; skull has picked up an impressive amount of medical knowledge (the nurses do not like when he corrects them)

I have an idea for a KHR hospital AU where all the acrobaleno are different kinds of doctors/work in different departments at the hospital but Skull is just a regular guy who’s always there because he gets injured so much

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #51 (part one)

previously - Journal Entry #50

Victor

Hey everyone!

Guess who got one of his casts off?

Spoiler alert: it's me!

My right wrist only had a partial fracture, and after looking at my latest x-rays, Dr. Sato said the bone is completely knitted together now. I started physio for my right arm today, and guess what else? I'm cleared for limited daytime driving and light exercise, and the doctor says that if I keep progressing at this rate, she'll fully clear me for all my normal activities in a month. That means snowboarding. It means I can start training again, and eventually competing again if I want to.

Yuri doesn't like the idea of me getting back into competition, but he said he won't try to stop me if it's what I want. What I really want is to make it into the FIS World Championship next year and hopefully place in the top ten. Ideally, I'd like to be on the medal podium, but I have to be realistic about it. Naturally, I'm aiming for the top, but it's just that I have to be prepared not to achieve that, because as I've learned, anything can happen.

But, I've promised Yuri that I'll retire at the end of next season, regardless of the outcome at Worlds. If I have a year to mentally prepare myself for my retirement, maybe it won't be so difficult.

Dr. Sato says it'll be at least another two to three weeks before my left arm is ready to come out of its cast, and she says I'll likely have to wear a wrist brace for a few more weeks after that. Even though I'm itching to get back on the slopes, I'm trying to look on the bright side. Having one of my hands back in service has made a massive difference in the level of help I need, so I definitely shouldn't be complaining.

Talking about my arms makes me realize just how much time has actually passed since I recorded anything here. It's been about five and a half weeks since my accident, and the last time I made an entry was a little over two weeks after it. So, basically that's three weeks of radio silence. Sorry for that.

It's been a chaotic three weeks, but Yuri and I have been managing. Mom and Julian already went home, and Uncle Kaz left the day before yesterday, but Yuri's parents are still here to look after us. We're getting lots of support from our friends as well.

Yuri finally got out of the hospital after having been in there for seventeen days. He's still mostly on bed rest at home, but I can see him improving little by little each day. He’s sleeping less and eating regularly now, and doesn’t seem to be in as much pain as he was before.

More than anything, I'm beyond grateful that he's eating. I don't even care that his meals are tiny and mostly consist of yogurt, fruit and rice, or that he has to be coaxed to eat, or that somebody often has to feed him. Anything's better than an NG tube.

Oh, and just in case you were wondering, Seiji was dead-on about the strawberry mochi. It did, in fact, turn out to be the thing that convinced Yuri to try taking one small bite of something. Seriously, never underestimate the power of desserts.

Now that I've mentioned Seiji, I should give you a little update on him, too. He ended up moving to the city after all, despite my best efforts at talking him into staying around.

You may have guessed the brilliant idea I had that day in the park was for Seiji to help take care of Yuri once he was released from the hospital. I thought it was a stroke of genius. It'd give Seiji a purpose and a reason not to leave, and it'd avoid the necessity of having a stranger look after Yuri while he's recovering. Unfortunately, neither Seiji nor Yuri went for it. That's not to say we didn't ultimately solve the problem anyway, but I'll tell you more about that in a minute.

The last I heard from Seiji, he'd gotten a job in a convenience store, just like he predicted he would. I'm not sure he's entirely happy with it, but he didn't seem happy here any more either, so I guess he might as well be unhappy with a change of scenery. I'd much rather he was happy, of course, but I have no control over that. Happiness is an inside job, after all. We each have to get into the mindset of choosing happiness for ourselves.

As for me, I can honestly say I'm happy in spite of everything. Setbacks notwithstanding, the future’s looking good for Yuri and me.

In light of Dr. Sato's prognosis for my recovery and my ability to return to competitive snowboarding, I got in contact with Luke Smith, my former coach back home to see whether he'd consider taking me on as a student again. He said he couldn't do it, but he told me that he had the perfect person in mind for me to train with, and when he told me who it was, I might've shouted a little bit with excitement.

Apparently one of my former teammates, Davey Duke — or Daisy, as everyone calls him — is planning to retire at the end of this season, but is looking to stay actively involved with the sport. Daisy and I were always great friends, and we've kept in sporadic contact since I've been in Japan. Also, the guy's a freakin' rockstar. Having him for a coach, I'd be the envy of pretty much every other competitor in the sport.

Luke said he'd pitch the idea to Daisy and get back to me, but as it happened, I didn't have to wait for Luke. Within two hours of that conversation with my old coach, I had a text from Daisy that was in all caps with a huge string of exclamation marks. "YES, MY DUDE!!!!!! LET'S DO IT!!!!!!!"

That matter having been unequivocally taken care of, Yuri and I have turned our attention to planning our move at the end of May. The goal is to be there and settled in well before Mom and Julian's wedding on the eleventh of June. We officially made an offer on the haunted house, which was quickly accepted, and we’ve transferred our down payment.

We’d been hoarding money for that down payment since the house went on the market, and we’re kinda broke now until Yuri gets next month’s allowance from his trust fund, but I can live with it. I’ve been broke before and survived.

One of the lawyers at Uncle Stephen's firm is dealing with all the legal details of the house purchase for us, which is a huge relief. An even bigger relief is that Uncle Stephen is personally handling Yuri's immigration paperwork, and he's waiving his fees.

In related news, I'm still debating with myself what to do about school. I've almost entirely made up my mind that I'm going to study nursing, but I'm waiting for my next appointment with Dr. Ishida before I commit to that choice completely. Dr. Ishida's pronouncement about my ability to read having more to do with my vision than my intelligence is still sinking in, and I want to get my glasses and be sure I actually can read as well as she thinks I can before I sign myself up for a course with lots of required reading.

The other thing I have to decide is if I'm going to try to start school this September or if I'm going to defer my studies for a year. I think it might be difficult to do a course with a clinical component while I'm competing. I'd have to travel for competitions, but I'd also have to prioritize my clinical placements, and since it's impossible to be in two places at once, I'd have to pick one. I think that'd be a less than ideal situation.

Meanwhile, Yuri has decided to take a leave of absence from his job at FutureBright Communications. His boss, Mr. Tanaka, assured him that he could still work remotely even if he was living in Canada, but Dr. Kasongo suggested that it'd be in his best interests not to work at all for a while. She thinks it makes more sense to focus on his health without having to cope with the pressure and stress of work.

Yuri resisted at first, but I think Mr. Tanaka might've guided him toward seeing reason. I know he really trusts and respects Mr. Tanaka, and I think the promise that there'd still be a job for him when he's ready to come back to work helped.

The human resources lady from FutureBright phoned here a few days ago to fill out the paperwork for short-term disability insurance benefits with him. He'll be covered for six months, which will get him through the spring and summer, and then they'll revisit the claim in early September to see if it'll need to be renewed for a further six months or if he can return to his job.

Personally, I think this is the perfect arrangement. Who wouldn't want a free summer in Willow Creek, with a percentage of their pay still coming in? Yuri can devote his time to getting healthy and doing things he enjoys, and when I'm not busy with work or training, we'll be able to go on all kinds of awesome adventures together. I'm really looking forward to that.

Another thing both Yuri and I are looking forward to is having Takahiro and Fox join us in Willow Creek this summer. Fox is from the Willow Creek-Newcrest area, and when his visa expires at the beginning of August he'll be returning, and he's bringing Taka with him.

Normally, one might expect that they'd stay with Fox's parents, but apparently the Abbottsfords dislike "foreigners" and have some sort of weird moral objection to the fact that their son is in a relationship with a man. They sound like totally charming people, right?

According to Taka, Fox's father hasn’t even spoken to him since November, which utterly blows my mind. My mom and I would be beside ourselves if we were out of contact for more than a day or two, much less for whole months at a stretch. Even when Yuri's relationship with his dad was at its worst, they still spoke to each other every couple of weeks.

Just as an aside, Yuri talks to his dad daily now, and sometimes multiple times a day. I love to see how much closer they're growing lately, and it almost makes me sad that we're moving because it means Yuri won't get to spend as much time with him. But, like Mr. Okamoto has assured us, they'll come and visit and they can certainly still find ways to talk every day.

Anyway, in light of all the racist and homophobic nonsense with Fox's parents, Yuri and I have already agreed that Fox and Taka can stay with us if they want to, until they find a place of their own. The haunted house has a couple of extra bedrooms in the basement, so they can have whichever one of those isn't Sachiko's room.

Yeah, Sachiko the ghost has decided to remain in the house. Robert and Kim MacAllister, the current owners, told us that they offered to bring her home to Mt. Komorebi, but she wanted to stay and see what it'd be like to share a home with people her own age.

That was kind of funny to me. I mean, Kim and Robert are in their early seventies, and as far as they can determine, Sachiko died about seventy-five years ago, so they're technically closer to her age than we are. Still, I get what she meant. She was in her early twenties when she died, and Yuri and I are in our mid-twenties now, so there's a certain logic to her choice.

Robert and Kim explained that they bought Sachiko a flower-arranging station, and decorated a bedroom for her, and even set a place at the table for her at mealtimes. Being a ghost, Sachiko doesn't need to eat or sleep, but they wanted to help her feel like part of the family. Yuri and I are planning to continue with that, so of course we can't give away her bedroom, even if she doesn't actually sleep in it.

Now, the only hurdle left to face is how we're going to break the news to Taka that our haunted house literally is haunted. Up to this point, he's seemed to think it's some kind of elaborate joke. He's not a big fan of the paranormal, and I think he might not want to stay with us when he finally grasps the fact that Sachiko is real.

But, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, as my grandpa Michael likes to say. We'll certainly have plenty of opportunity to address the subject, since we've been seeing a lot more of Taka and Fox lately.

And why is that, you ask? Seiji may not have bought into my plan to help take care of Yuri, but Fox and Taka did. Or more specifically, Fox did, and because he already has his partner wrapped firmly around his little finger, our dear friend Takahiro is along for the proverbial ride.

I'd like to take full credit for planning our circumstances to evolve this way, but I can't. In reality, Fox volunteered for the job and Yuri, perhaps concluding that we didn't have a lot of viable options, accepted his offer.

It happened a few days before Yuri got out of the hospital. I was there with him when Fox and Taka showed up for a visit. Yuri hadn’t been very talkative. He'd had a bad morning and really didn't want to do anything except be cuddled, but that hadn't put Taka and Fox off. They seemed happy enough to sit there and chat with me.

Fox was excited because he's learning to drive and would be getting his learner's permit soon. He happily declared that there'd be no stopping him once he had his own wheels, whereupon Taka emphasized the need for his own, because he certainly wasn't going to be driving Yuzu. Oh... If no one's mentioned it before, Taka has this SUV that he and Seiji painted an absolutely eye-popping shade of yellow. He calls it Yuzu, after the fruit, and I'm reasonably certain it's his most prized possession.

Meanwhile, Taka was excited because he just finished his first study module in language school. He only started taking English classes at the language school in January, so I felt like his achievement was impressive, and told him so. His English was okay to begin with, but it's improved by leaps and bounds since he started his course. He confided that he wants to get as much learning in as possible before the summer, because he wants to take the immigration language test so he can apply for a study permit and go to college in Canada.

"Looks like you've got a busy spring, then," I remarked.

"Yeah," Taka agreed. "Because I has big plans."

"I have plans," Fox corrected him, and they both laughed.

"I have plans," Taka repeated dutifully. "Why is that one so hard?"

"You'll get it," Fox said. "Don't worry. You're already so much further ahead than you were when we met."

"Because I practice with you. You're the best teacher I... has." As if the deliberate pause wasn't enough to signal that he'd used the wrong verb tense on purpose this time, Taka bestowed his partner with a cheeky little grin. "Best ever."

That caused Fox to blush an extreme shade of pink, and brought about my turn to laugh. "Anybody ever tell you guys how cute you are?"

"Everyone. All the time," Taka answered cheerfully.

Fox looked flustered, and mumbled something in Japanese that sounded like. "New topic. Begging you."

Taka looked amused. "Now who's showing his good language skills?"

"Maybe we do need a new topic, before Fox starts looking for a place to hide," I said.

"Okay," Taka agreed. "I know when to stop. We can talk about you instead. You're going to Canada before us."

"Yeah, at the end of May, but we've got to get back on our feet and make it through the rest of the winter and the spring, first. One thing at a time, right, Yuri?"

Yuri stirred slightly in my arms and said quietly, "I guess."

"Are you going home soon, Yuri?" Fox asked.

When he didn't reply after several seconds, I said, "His doctor says he can go home in a few days, but she won't release him until we sort out who's going to be looking after him."

"Won't his parents do it?" Taka asked.

"They will, but they can't be with us the whole time," I gestured vaguely with one of my casted arms. "And there's a lot I still can't do, so I'm going to need some help too."

"What exactly do you need?" Fox asked. "Is it like, actual medical stuff, or more like someone to help around the house?"

"The only medical thing would be to make sure Yuri takes his medication when he's supposed to," I said. "But, I can still manage that myself. It's the other stuff that we need help with."

"I could do it," he said.

I wasn't quite sure I'd heard him correctly. "You... what?"

"I could help you, and I'll bet Auntie Keiko would help too, if you asked her."

"I think she would," Taka said. "We can ask."

"You can help too, Takahiro," Fox added.

Taka hadn't appeared to mind being drafted by his boyfriend. "Yes, when I'm not at work."

"Perfect," Fox said. "Victor, even if Auntie can't help, you'll have Taka on Fridays and Sundays if you need him, and I'll be glad to come to your house every day and do what I can."

"You know what you'd be getting into, right?" I asked. "You'd be doing almost everything until I get at least one of these casts off."

"I understand."

As grateful as I was for his offer, I needed to make sure he really did understand. Being able to see properly again, I was able to do a lot more for myself than I could before. I was getting pretty good at using just my fingers to do quite a few things, and I was feeling comfortable picking up lighter objects like dishes or dog toys or laundry, but without the use of my thumbs, there were still plenty of tasks that were outside my ability.

"When I say everything, I mean literally everything," I said. "That'd include personal care, so uh... there'd be kinda gross stuff involved."

Fox laughed. "Are you trying to discourage me?"

"I'm not trying to discourage you. I just don't want you to agree to something without knowing exactly what you'd be in for."

"Thanks." Fox's determination was evident on his face. "I appreciate that, but I can do it."

Taka reached for Fox's hand, and the smile he gave him practically glowed with pride. "You are amazing. You wouldn't have done that before."

"I've learned a lot from you and your parents and Jin," Fox said. "Turns out, I'm capable of a lot more than I ever gave myself credit for, and I'm not scared to challenge myself any more. Plus, remember what you told me when we first met?"

"I told you a lot of stuff," Taka said.

"Yes, but I'm talking about what you said about kindness. You said the best way to repay you for your kindness to me would be for me to pay it forward to someone else some day."

"Right. I remember."

"Well," Fox said. 'I guess this is the day."

I glanced down at Yuri, who was curled tightly against my chest and clearly doing his best not to listen to the conversation. "Hey," I said softly. "Would you be okay with that? With Fox looking after you?"

He nodded and practically whispered. "I... I think I'd be okay with that."

I'm not sure Yuri was entirely relieved, but I can assure you I was. The issue of whether or not we'd need somebody from the home healthcare program had been a big one for us, and something I was glad we no longer had to think about.

Although I felt confident the home care workers were well-trained and trustworthy, my opinion would've made very little difference if Yuri was too scared to have them in the house. Being in constant fear wouldn't help his recovery. And yeah, it'd be easy to say his fear was irrational or unjustified, but given his physical condition as well as his past trauma, I'd tend to disagree. I mean, if I were in his place, I think I'd be scared to let a stranger into my house too, never mind letting them do personal stuff for me.

At least Fox was a known quantity. To be fair, we didn't know him all that well yet, but based on my acquaintance with him up to that point, I was satisfied that he would handle Yuri with care. Besides, I reminded myself, Takahiro's parents trust him to continue to live in their home and not cause any trouble, and apparently Taka's sister Aiko trusts him enough to ask him to babysit her three year old son. I reasoned that if he could manage looking after little Toshiro with no mishaps, then he should be able to handle looking after an adult.

[velkynkarma]

Big List of FMA Parental Roy Mustang Fic Recs

Recently a family member of mine has been enjoying Fullmetal Alchemist for the first time. I’ve been revisiting it too for fun. While I was at it, I decided to poke through the fandom, revisit old fic favorites, and see if there were any good new ones. 

Turns out: there are!

I was always a big fan of Roy Mustang, and especially fics where he acts as a surrogate parental figure for Ed and Al, accidentally or intentionally. It was hard to find good ones though, so I thought I’d throw together a list of fic recs. 

Everything here is platonic, and does not focus on romantic relationships. Fics can be from the 2003 anime, Brotherhood, or the manga. 

To the Night Sky by Ranowa 

Summary: They tell him he lost his mind. He doesn't remember anything else, so he believes them. But if that's the case, then why does he sometimes feel like he doesn't belong here... and neither does that little, annoying, blond kid named Ed? 

Comments: In the author’s words, ‘not a traditional amnesia fic,’ and it sure isn’t. Long, eventful, has a ton of hurt/comfort but also a great background plot that ends up becoming more important the farther you go. This author also has a few other great FMA fics that are worth checking out, but this one stuck out to me the most. 

War Heroes by Akarii

Summary: Drawn by rumors of a Philosopher's Stone, Edward travels to North City along with Roy and the soldiers of Eastern Command who plan to compete in the North vs. East Training Exercises. However, Ed and Roy find their lives at risk when they get captured by a rebellion group who aim for the end of all State Alchemists and the entire Amestrian government.

Comments: Great adventure fic with some good hurt/comfort, but also plenty of Roy and Ed both kicking ass and taking names. This author also has some other FMA fics that are definitely worth checking out as well, but this was again the stand-out for me. 

Number Twenty Eight by Sevlow

Summary: As of today, Edward Elric had been missing for four months, two weeks, and five days.

Comments: An oldie but still a goodie. Ed goes missing, and when he’s found again, he’s a Nina-esque dog chimera in bad shape. With Al on the other side of the country chasing down another lead on his missing brother, it’s up to Roy to try and fix Ed, and take care of him in the interim. Chimera!fic was a dime a dozen back in the days of the 2003 anime fandom, but this was one of the ones that delivered on the premise. Years later, it still holds up and remains a personal favorite, with plenty of hurt/comfort and dark humor moments. Sevlow has a lot of other Roy-centric fics that are equally good, though not necessarily parental!Roy.

Warning: Parts of this fic do get super dark, with references to suicide, gore, and implied sexual abuse during Ed’s missing months. 

Bookwrm389: This author had some of my favorite FMA fics back in the day. Imagine my shock when I discovered their FF.net account has been completely deleted within the past year. Thankfully, they only orphaned their stories on AO3, so they’re still available. Since it is an orphaned account now, I can’t link to it for people to browse at their leisure, so here’s individual links to all my favorites:

Gold from Lead ~ There were whispers. There was absolutely no way to stop them. Ed would rip out his spleen if he knew what all those people were insinuating about the two of them.

Comments: Ed gets kidnapped by insurgents to be used as ransom against his father. The problem? Thanks to the rumor mill, everyone thinks his father is Colonel Roy Mustang. 

Your Son ~ "I'm not your father. It's not fair that you can affect me this much." A military function becomes a nightmare when Ed accidentally takes a poisoned drink meant for Roy.

Comments: Exactly what it says on the tin. Somebody tries to assassinate Roy, and Ed gets caught in the crossfire. Excellent hurt-comfort. Also features Maes Hughes being awesome, and Roy having an existential oh my god am I a dad????? moment. 

Tempest ~ Ed is adamant that he doesn't need a father. And it's only when he's about to lose the closest thing he has to one that he understands how very wrong he is.

Comments: Has a solid dose of both action-adventure and hurt/comfort and found family moments. It’s the full package. 

Shadow of a Doubt ~ It was meant to be a simple inspection, but a disturbing dream makes Ed uneasy and fearful. His anxiety intensifies when the mission takes a dangerous turn, putting his and Mustang's lives at risk. Can he hold it together long enough to save them both?

Comments: Another nice, long fic with a good combination of action, hurt/comfort, and family moments. One of my favorites.

Likeness ~ One morning mere hours before an inspection, Roy is amazed to receive absolute proof that his young subordinate is growing up.

Comments: A surprisingly adorable fic in which Roy ends up being the one to teach Ed how to shave. 

Bonus fics that aren’t specifically parental Roy but do still have some hilarious Roy and Ed interaction: 

Military Courtesy ~ Ed learns how to do a proper military salute and promptly drives the Colonel absolutely insane (or not)

Who’s the Alchemist? ~ A Who’s on First parody that goes exactly like how you’d expect but still had me cracking up

Name Calling by Lost_And_Longing

Summary: From the start, Roy Mustang had always believed in Edward Elric. Even after he'd learned the horrific story of their attempt at human transmutation, Mustang had just looked at Ed and offered him a chance. He'd come when Ed was despondent, weak, and helpless...and offered him a way out. Maybe that was why, out of all the men Ed knew, Roy was the closest thing he'd ever had to a father.

Comments: A 5+1 based on all the different names and titles Ed uses for Roy. Has a nice dollop of humor, hurt/comfort, and parental moments. 

Of Hospitals and Health by ReminiscentRevelry

Summary: Al is still recovering after the Promised Day, so Colonel Mustang pays him a visit.

Comments: Post-series (although not by much). A nice fic where Al actually gets a little moment with Mustang. Most parental Roy fics are with Ed, so this was a nice change of pace as well as as sweet little fic in which Roy shows he cares about both of the Elrics, even if only one is technically his subordinate.

Twelve Cups of Coffee by BeyondtheClouds777

Summary: Roy finds a sleep-deprived Edward in his office.

Comments: Just a cute little one shot in which a freshly appointed State Alchemist Edward Elric overworks himself trying to find the solutions to his and Al’s problem, and Roy makes sure he knows not to push himself too hard.

Point of Exhaustion by Took-Baggins

Summary: Roy never thought he'd be the one to be there when Edward finally pushed himself too far, but when the Fullmetal Alchemist suddenly collapses there's no one else to hold him down until he can stand again.

Comments: Another fic in which Teenagers Are Just Bad At Knowing How To Take Care Of Themselves, so the adults step in to make sure they do. Ed’s not eating or sleeping properly when he’s so obsessed with getting Al’s body back and makes himself sick. Features both a parental Roy and a parental Hawkeye, because both of them are fed up with the smallest youngest member of their team not properly taking care of himself and are not gonna let that stand. 

When the Rain Falls by Marcellebelle

Summary: Colonel Roy Mustang has two problems: Edward and Alphonse Elric.

Comments: Still a WIP, but the first two chapters are definitely promising. A sickly Ed calls Roy asking for help when his brother is kidnapped, and now Roy has to find one and make sure the other is taken care of. Really looking forward to seeing where this one goes.

As always, if you take the time to check any of these out, try to leave a comment or kudos for the writers and their hard work!

[trashlie]

!!! omg yes yes i’d love for you to write more about that!!!! and! the first post from you i saw about kousuke and how he subverts the trope of the ml??? it was SO GOOD!! and you got another ask that mentioned how people saw yeonggi as the happy go lucky character! it reminded me of this ask which is very long i sent to @somebody-909 😭 i was just gushingggg about secondary male leads bc i for some reason always end up rooting for them and how yeonggi has the vibes even though he’s a main character 😩 and also we talked about other characters like kyo but i forgot that tohru also had dealt with abuse from her own family so in the end it’s like. it’s a story about two survivors finding happiness etc etc 😔🥺 idk idk all of you guys who make analysis are so cool

I hope you don't mind me answering these two asks separately, because I just know if I didn't I would miss too many things, haha!

I'm not sure if I could write a very good analysis of Yeonggi subverting the secondlead trope, but I sure could try! I feel like it's a little more biased because I DO ship Stalkyoo, but I think I can try to work with it! I also remember seeing that ask (I was going through their blog the other day) and I really enjoyed it! Like you, I tend to favor secondary leads, which I think is also because I have a tendency to love the act of yearning and pining lmao and man second leads sure do pine a lot, right? Also because second leads often (though mercifully not always) have a tendency to hesitate and miss their timing or just plain don't act on their feelings, and it creates a big sense of what could have been, and I think when you are someone who favors underdogs, you really fall into that "what could have been" thing, right?

(I think there's also a conversation to be had about first vs second leads and traits of masculinity, but I am admittedly not well-versed enough to do this, but some general food for thought is: often in the case where I favored a first to a second lead, it's because the first lead evoked a lot of traits of masculinity that I don't care for? Jealousy, possessiveness, being cold and not showing their emotions esp compared to a second lead who was often portrayed as gentle with his heart on his sleeve, kind. In a lot of these cases, the second lead is often not favored by the majority of the audience because "he just feels like a friend" aka he lacks the masculine traits people think a man should have~ or blah blah blah. I wonder if this is still a prevalent thing these days? I tend to avoid love triangles so I'm not sure, but, it's something I would like to throw in if I talk about Nol subervting the second lead trope aaahhhhh now I'm just on a whole other tangent lmao)

Here's an embarrassing admission: in the past, when I was young, back in like, 2007 in my first year of college and I started reading Fruits Basket and I watched the original anime lmaooooo I actually really favored Yukki, because I'm a gross sucker for gentle prince types lmaoooo but as I've gotten older, being able to understand what made Kyo and Tohru work so well was really satisfying!

I've become really enamored with the idea of Nol and Shinae as mirrors to each other, able to help each other identify and work on the parts of them where they are weaker or struggle, and the idea of these two people coming from uneasy lives and finding comfort in the sanctuary they create together? WHOLESOME. I live for that shit. (I don't ever want it to read though like I want Shinae to "fix" Nol or anything like that - he has a lot of work to put himself, just like she has for herself, but I like the idea that as they become people who heal themselves, they help each other heal, too, in the ways that they reflect each other, if that makes sense?) Survivors creating their own sense of home, out of the mess that they've endured is.... AAHHHHHH satisfying! There's something so strong about survival, let alone finding comfort in the wreckage of all that tried to destroy you, isn't it? Shinae has been dealt a bad hand in life, lacked opportunities others had, was judged mercilessly without anyone getting to know her; the idea of her becoming a person who can face the world without feeling like she's ill-fit, without feeling like she's out of place, because she's finally learned her value? Hhhhhh I love it! And likewise, Nol being able to face his awful family knowing that he is more than they ever saw in him, that he was never the villain he was made to believe? PLS my heart!!!!!!!!

(You know, my first time I read ILY, before I realized it was deeper than the surface and than I gave it credit for, I was also convinced Nol was a second lead interest, simply based on the fact that so often characters like Kousuke are coded the first lead and that characters like Nol are there to make us sad lmao. I think that's what made writing the Kousuke analysis so easy for me! At one point I decided to a read where I did not view anything through a romantic lens - not even things like the hospital balcony scene or the wac hand holding - to try to judge just what else could be going on under the surface, that's when I started to realize that a lot of scenes are kind of kind of a couple things superimposed over each other. Kousuke and Nol look like they're competing for Shinae's favor when they each remove their jackets, but what does it REALLY mean. Ironically enough, reading without a romantic lens made me favor Nol and Stalkyoo EVEN MORE lmao because I was finally able to pay attention to the nuanced depth and character development, and the way their relationship progressed as she came to trust him and their friendship solidified really made the framework feel obvious. But the point is: like you I tend to favor second leads and I was already favoring Nol on the principle that he's so sad and I just wanted to see it all turn around for him for once lmaooooo)

[thosewickedlovelies]

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Brownies (part 4)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: E for Explicit!!!

Summary: Javier reveals his knight-in-shining-armor side when Reader is in danger. Then Reader bakes brownies, and he reveals...something else ;)

Tags: Attempted mugging at knifepoint. Javi points his gun. Swearing. Inappropriate or maybe completely appropriate use of chocolate. Male masturbation. Exhibitionism if you squint.

Word Count: 4,634

A/N: Okay but consider: Javier has a competency kink.

Masterlist

--

The last three days had been exhausting. Long shifts at the hospital with your intensive-care patient had worn you out, but it was worth it to watch them steadily get better. Tomorrow somebody else was on duty in the morning, and you were greatly looking forward to sleeping in. Knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave your pajamas before your afternoon shift, you had plodded through the grocery store on your walk home tonight.

You breathe deeply, gratefully of the fresh night air as you turn into your building’s driveway. With the all-day shifts and your lack of motivation to do anything but sleep after them, you hadn’t been outside as much in the past few days. Idly you wonder if it’s too soon to ask Javier to take you to that bakery.

You glance reflexively up at his front window as you stop at the base of the steps outside. A light turns off as you rummage through your purse for your keys, but it’s far too early for him to be going to bed. Maybe he’s going out.

You set down a grocery bag, your keys evading your slightly constrained reach. With your head down and your vision narrowed to the inside of your purse, you don’t notice the man until it’s too late.

A rough grip where your neck meets your shoulder, thumb digging painfully into the muscle, and the cold press of steel against vulnerable skin- a knife blade, you register dimly. Every alarm in your body blares as a voice scratches in your ear: “Give me all of the money you have, and I will not use this.”

Adrenaline burns through you, and your hands tremble as it fights the fog of tiredness that had been smothering you. The man scrapes the blade of his weapon along your neck to make his point, then shoves you forward, into the metal bannister of the staircase. The breath whooshes painfully out of you.

Your skin flashes hot and cold with panic, but you force yourself to breathe through the pounding of your heart. You slowly turn around.

Your aggressor is a skinny, unassuming young man, like any other you’d pass on the street, but his eyes are hard, his hold on the knife unwavering as he points it at you. “Your wallet. Now,” he demands, eyes flashing, and you know he meant his threat.

The streetlight above gleams on the blade, a foot from your face. Your tongue feels thick and clumsy in your mouth. You can only nod, trying to communicate placation, that you’ll comply with his request. Your eyes never leave him as you gradually close your hand around your wallet.

Just then, the building door opens, and everything happens very quickly.

Light splashes on the man’s face. “What the- HEY!” Javier’s anger blasts over you, the sudden whip-crack sound of it the loudest you’d ever heard from him. He lets out a rattling stream of Spanish, but your mugger appears unconcerned until a second later, when you hear a sharp click above you. Alarm dashes the arrogance off his face as he flinches. Javi has a gun.

In his moment of distraction, you lift your foot and ram it into the man’s stomach, propelling him backward. He stumbles nearly onto his ass, wheezing, and in an instant Javi is in front of you, gun pointing at him. He shouts something else too fast for you to make out.

The man answers, cowering with his hands up, and Javier spits out one final statement before telling him to leave, jerking his gun in emphasis. Your would-be mugger doesn’t look back.

Javier holds his stance for another tense moment. You tentatively touch your fingertips to his shoulder blade, feeling the strength holding his muscles taut. He nearly shudders at the contact, bringing him back to himself.

He turns to face you, tucking his gun away against his back. “Hey, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His voice urgent, his eyes still dark and tense with rage. He holds his hands palms out, showing you he’s safe, begging you to believe him.

Adrenaline still vibrates beneath your skin. You look at him with wild eyes, shake your head. Abruptly your knees wobble, and Javier springs forward. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay now, Vecinita.”

One arm encircles your waist while the other props you up along your spine, broad hand splaying, fingers pressing into you with desperate relief. His rough voice smooths your lingering tension, the closeness of his body new but comforting. You let his warmth erase the other man’s violation of your space. Your hands clutch at the lapels of his leather jacket, a sigh shuddering out of you.

“Vecinita. Let’s get you inside, okay?” Javi gently prompts you into moving, keeping one arm wrapped around you as he guides you up the stairs. He directs you to lean against the wall just inside the door.

“Here, put those down, all right? Stay here. I’ll get your other one.” He eases the remaining bags off your shoulder and onto the floor, then disappears out the door, only to return in a flash with your second grocery bag in hand. He sets it down by the others.

You watch him, your head resting against the wall as you battle the exhaustion that had returned full force, aided by the rush of adrenaline and the subsequent crash as it left your system.

Javi approaches you again, worry clear in his face at your limp posture. “Vecinita? You okay?” His hand comes up as if to brush a stray hair at your temple, but he doesn’t touch you. His arm drops.

But you reach out for it, sliding your hand down his wrist to entangle your fingers; the touch as much a comfort for you as it is for him.

Surprise flares in his eyes at your gesture; something indescribably like longing crosses his face. He squeezes your hand.

You smile faintly at him. “I’m fine, Javi. Just...shaken. And tired,” you admit. “I’ve had long shifts at work the past few days.” Your feet ache just remembering, but you make no move to leave.

“Oh yeah, Connie told me,” Javier says without thinking.

Well, that was news to you. You look at him with sudden, sly interest. “Oh yeah? You two ladies talk about me?” Giving his own words back to him, from the second time you went over to check on his leg. It could have been a lifetime ago for how different things are now.

Javi looks dumbfounded for a split second. A helpless chuckle spills out of him, unconsciously swaying forward as if only this, your familiar teasing, had convinced him that you were fine, that he could finally let go of his own tension.

His face is so unguarded; you’re delighted to see his eyes crinkle with laughter. They’re so brown, so beautiful this close up, a rich spiral of shades that you could stare into for hours and still not find the right words to describe.

You smile fondly up at him, not minding his nearness in the slightest. You’re conscious, suddenly, of how overwhelmingly glad you are that you got to know Javier. Of how grateful you are for his company, his protection just now.

For once, you are the conflicted one, a thoughtful expression puzzling your brow. Because it’s your turn to consider how you could possibly thank him for what he’s done. What could be enough to communicate the depth of your gratitude?

--

Javier knows that you are okay, really. That he should get you inside your own apartment, let you sleep off the past few days. But he is utterly captivated. Held in place like an animal caught in the wrong trap, at the mercy of the hunter to decide its fate. Would you put him out of his misery by telling him that you’re not interested? Or free him from the trap of his clumsy uncertainty, grant him the clarity of your feelings so that he may choose his own course?

The press of your hand in his gives him hope, intimate and promising in all the right ways. He doesn’t want to let go, but this is unquestionably the wrong time to make any kind of move. He’s already standing too close to you, unable to resist your draw in the relief of the moment.

Time seems to thicken as your smile fades. He wants to smooth the furrow in your brow, chase off what’s troubling you. Of course, it could be me, he thinks sardonically. Despite his best efforts, his eyes flick rapidly down to your lips.

And he watches your expression shift again, those lips parting, and if Javier didn’t know better he’d think you wanted him to kiss you- but that can’t be right, you’re just in shock. His moral compass gets him into trouble at the best of times, but it’s swinging wildly now, leaving him utterly spun.

His tongue pokes forward unconsciously, just wetting his lips...but before either of you can move you hear a crash from Steve and Connie’s apartment above.

The spell is broken. You start, your head automatically turning in the direction of the sound. Javi straightens, putting some air between you, but his gaze never leaves your face.

“Sounds like they’re fighting,” he says. “Come on, let’s get you inside before one of them storms out.” He lets go of your hand only to slide his arm around you again. You let him help carry your bags, your limbs revolting at the idea of further movement.

Javier guides you into your apartment as far as the kitchen. He’s reluctant to let you go, but darts anxious glances at the back hall, not wanting to overstep (despite what had just almost happened outside).

He unwinds himself from you once he’s sure you’re holding yourself upright. Before he can leave, however, you grab his arm again.

“Javi!” You seem...afraid, but like you’re furiously trying not to be. “...What did you say to him?”

He’s not convinced that was your original question, but he answers. “I asked him who he worked for. He said no one, he just needed some money...you were a random pick, Vecinita, in the wrong place at the wrong time. He won’t come back.” A bitter taste fills his mouth at the memory, the sight of that motherfucker pointing a knife at you. But his rage softens when he sees the anxiety haunting your face.

“Hey. You want me to stay here tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch. Guard the door.” His attempt at levity sounds half-hearted, but your lips twitch upward in response.

“I..can’t ask you to do that, Javier,” you mumble, gaze shifting- until you remember something. “You were going out.” You look back at him questioningly.

He barely remembers his original plans for this evening. Drinks with coworkers? Javier shrugs dismissively. “Nothing important. Don’t worry about it. Come on- I’ll stay here tonight and drive you to work tomorrow. Deal?”

You bite your lip. “I don’t work until the afternoon tomorrow.” Another feeble attempt at protesting. He waits.

Finally you concede. “Thank you, Javi”, you whisper, nearly inaudibly.

Instead of speaking, he takes your hand again. Bringing it to his mouth, he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, without a trace of his suggestive intentions from the first time. “Que duermas bien, Vecinita.” Sleep well.

--

You wake naturally the next morning to sunlight streaming through your curtains. You forgot to set your alarm! Your first thought has you sitting bolt upright, heart pounding; then you remember that you have the morning off. Your heart rate slows only marginally as the events of the previous evening return to you, including- Javier slept on your sofa.

Your pulse rockets right back up, flushing your whole body with nervous energy. Damn it, it’s too early for this. Your sleep-clumsy thoughts are tumbling and manic as you try to decide on a course of action.

Right, first- check your clock. Ten a.m.?! You stifle a groan. Who knows how long Javi has been awake by now, just waiting in your living room? Assuming he stayed- you wouldn’t blame him if he’s gone to his own apartment for food by now.

Wait, speaking of food- you frown, lifting your nose toward the door. Is that coffee you smell?

So Javier’s awake, then.

Abruptly overcome with giggles, you cover your face with your hands, grinning like a fool. Javier had stayed, and made himself coffee in your kitchen.

Well you couldn’t just leave him out there. You take a deep breath, willing yourself calm. Time to stop acting like a giggling mess with a crush. The thought makes you pause, wide-eyed. Holy shit, did you have a crush on Javi?

I mean, he did save your ass last night, you reason. Very superhero of him. And you kept finding more attractive things about him, and you’d spent some real time together now, and he...he had kissed your hand last night. After definitely almost kissing you in the hall. Mierda. You giggle to yourself again. So much for being calm.

Well, there was nothing to be done for it. You throw a light robe over your pajamas and pad to the kitchen.

Butterflies burst in your chest at the sight that greets you. Javier is sitting at your dining room table, a mug in front of him. Chin in hand, lost in thought, hair still adorably mussed from sleep.

You only have a second to appreciate it before he hears you approach. He stands with a start, guilty eyes flitting from his coffee to the kitchen before settling on you, hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He clears his throat. “Morning.”

His voice is even raspier this early in the day, like a match striking heat inside you. A reaction you will definitely have to process later.

“Morning,” you return, smiling sheepishly at him. You go to the sink to fill a glass of water, opting to stay at the counter to drink it. “How long have you been up?”

His gaze flits to the clock on the microwave. “About an hour. I, uh. Made coffee. Hope you don’t mind.” His hand flies to his head as if only just now remembering the state his hair could be in, hurriedly smoothing errant curls (to your disappointment).

Javi’s shirt is rumpled, and you feel guilty as you realize he would have slept in his clothes. You’d been so dead on your feet last night, you don’t even remember if you gave him a  blanket. “Not at all,” you reply. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep this late. I didn’t even offer you pajamas or anything last night...” You’re about to continue apologizing when he cuts you off.

“Don’t worry about it, Vecinita. I’m not sure yours would have fit me anyway.” A teasing grin uncurls as he eyes the short pajama shorts under your robe, in a way that’s wholly different from how he might have looked at you before you fixed his leg (a time designation you find yourself referencing more and more often lately: Before-Leg and After-Leg). Now he’s earned such familiarity, and although unexpected, it’s not unwelcome. You still nearly gape at the joke and his once-over, feeling decidedly warm.

Oblivious to your internal temperature rising, Javi continues. “I could do with a shower though. What time do you have work?”

Right, work. “Twelve,” you respond. “Um, I can make breakfast? While you run home and shower. If you want. How’s pancakes? And I think I have bacon.”

Javier looks relieved to have a plan. “You had me at bacon,” he confirms. “I won’t be long.” He starts for the door, scooping up his jacket as he goes.

“No hurry!” You call after him.

True to his word, Javi is barely gone fifteen minutes before he’s back at your dining room table, a fresh mug of coffee cradled in hand. Conversation doesn’t come as readily as it did during your movie night, but the silence in between feels...comfortable.

Javier hesitantly brings up the night before, but only to compliment the form of your kick to the man’s stomach. “Self-defense classes before traveling,” you explain, which led to a continued interest in fighting skills. Your neighbor looks impressed and...intrigued, maybe. Something speculative in his eyes, like he’s reassessing his idea of you.

He drives you to work later, and arranges for Steve to pick you up.

“Heard you had to kick some ass last night,” the blond drawls in greeting.

Well, it was nice of Javier to tell such a flattering version of the story. You roll your eyes, even as you preen the tiniest bit. “Yeah, that’s how it happened,” you grumble. “It wasn’t just Javier swooping in to save my ass like fucking Batman with a shiny gun.”

Steve guffaws at your description. But neither man makes light of the incident. Steve drives you to or from work at Javi’s request when he’s busy, until after a few days you insist that you’re fine, plenty confident that Javi scared off your attacker. Even so, he walks with you to the grocery store the next time you go, swearing up and down that the timing is just a coincidence, that he needs a few things too.

Secretly you’re grateful for that. You feel safe with Javier, and it’s a nice feeling, being protected. You’re just as capable of watching out for threats, but you could never replicate the swooping, shivery feeling low in your belly when his guiding hand brushes the small of your back. Ever since you took his hand that night, he’s been slowly getting bolder with small, casual touches. And every time you let him, his eyes brighten a little more, his breath loosening like he’s afraid you’ll reject each one. As if you’d reject proof of his affection, or the glow of pleasure that smolders in you with every glimpse of it.

At the store, you mentally flip through your cookbook, tilting your head thoughtfully at the cocoa powder.

--

Javier doesn’t remember inviting you over to bake in his kitchen, but he’s sure as hell not complaining. Watching you competently twirl about the room, sifting and stirring and tasting things in various bowls, is stirring in ways he hadn’t anticipated. The graceful lift of your arms, your eyes narrowed in concentration. He almost wants to interrupt, just to see how you’d react.

He drifts over to see if he can help, when his senses are powerfully overwhelmed by the smell of chocolate.

You stand in front of him, the source dripping suggestively from a spoon in your hand. “Want a taste, Javi?” You lick the spoon slowly, holding his gaze as you close your mouth around it, cheeks hollowing with the effort of sucking it clean.

Javier swallows hard at the dizzyingly tempting scene before him, all but floating toward you.

You smile coyly at him, meaningfully lifting a chocolate-tipped finger. He doesn’t dare move. His lips part as it nears, not knowing what you intend but knowing that he desperately wants it. His breaths come quick and shallow. You trace your finger lightly along his lower lip.

The touch sizzles through him, the taste of your skin far more vibrant than that of the chocolate. Javi can’t help but flick his tongue out to chase it, catching just the tip of your finger before it retreats, and suddenly you look as lost as he feels, staring at his mouth as he works to clean the silky sweetness from it.

As if in a trance, you lift your hand again, your own lips parting. “Want another?” Your voice breathy and uneven. A fingerprint smudging your lower lip, you lift your chin-

And Javier is on you, sucking your lip into his mouth, tasting the chocolate on your breath, wanting more. He groans as you arch into the kiss, devouring you, sliding his tongue against yours. You clutch at each other like this is everything you’d been waiting for.

Javier loses himself in you. Just the sounds you’re making have him harder than he’s ever been, he’d let you lick chocolate off whatever you damn well want-

He jolts awake.

Gasping and sweating and so painfully hard he instinctively presses a palm to his crotch, choking on a groan. What the hell?

He is completely disoriented. The smell of chocolate still pervades his senses. He registers the muted sound of- music? Your singing.

He’d fallen asleep on the couch; the scent in his dream was you baking again. Maybe you dropped something and it woke him up. He can’t focus on anything else right now besides his absolutely throbbing erection.

His breathing is harsh in his throat as he shoves at the zipper of his pants. He wraps a hand around himself, his head dropping back and his mouth open in a soundless moan. His hips buck upward, head still full of you, you-

He snaps in less than a minute.

His release spatters hot over his hand and shirt. He slumps back down into the cushions, panting, spent. As the haze clears, he has only a single thought.

Fuck.

--

The sunlight is too bright for Javier’s thoughts the next morning. It dazzles him on his way to work, making it even harder to focus when his mind is still full of you. The softness of your lips, your sighs of pleasure, all of it conjured up by his apparently lust-addled mind- whose desperation would only increase the more he longed for a taste in real life.

It’s an immense relief when he finally arrives to the familiar office smell of musty files and weak coffee.

He’s here before Steve today- a rare occurrence, but he had to get out of the house. There’s some fanfare going on when he finally does catch a glimpse of his partner’s blond hair across the floor.

Steve is- holding something? Handing out something? As he makes his way over, the sounds of appreciation from colleagues grow clearer, but it doesn’t sink in until he’s nearly reached the door.

“Man, Steve, you gotta bring this neighbor of yours to the next office party so we can show our appreciation!” The agent’s chortle dies as he catches sight of Javier, who makes no attempt to regulate his steadily souring expression. “Peña.” The man gives him a quick nod and says a last farewell to Steve.

His partner sets the tray he’s holding down on his desk and slowly turns to face Javier. Steve’s gaze lingers over the look on his face, the way he’s zeroed in on the dish, lips puckered like he can’t decide if he should speak.

“Well good mornin’ to you, Javi,” Steve drawls, in that too-knowing way he sometimes had. “Brownie?” He gestures to the tray.

The smell reaches him then. Chocolate. Thick and rich and- a chocolate-coated finger hovering before his mouth, your eyes twinkling innocently up at him- Javier’s jaw clenches.

“What,” he grits out, demanding an explanation with the single syllable.

“Neighbor-lady dropped ‘em off last night. Said they were for us to take to work today. Apparently she tried you first, but you weren’t home.”

Right. Because after staining his shirt with thoughts of you, he’d barely taken the time to throw on a clean one before stumbling out the door, sucking in deep breaths of fresh air as he walked to the nearest dive that served whiskey.

But- you had brought them to him first. Not Connie, or Steve, or anyone else. Him.

“Huh,” he replies distantly.

It’s all too much for Javier to process. He stands abruptly and stalks out of the office, making a beeline for the restroom.

His mind clears a bit after splashing some water on his face. He manages to be cordial once he returns to his desk, but it isn’t long before the emotional impact of his revelation fades, leaving him once more occupied by daydreams of the physical confirmation he craves.

It doesn’t help that apparently the entire fucking building was told about the brownies. Every time someone new comes in he gets a fresh whiff of chocolate, remembers dreaming of sucking the taste off your tongue and the needy noises you made when he did.

For the next several hours he glowers at the tray, perched innocuously on the corner of Steve’s desk. His skin feels hot and tight. It’s possible he smokes a few more cigarettes than usual in an effort to numb his tastebuds, or his olfactory sensors, or whatever the fuck keeps registering fucking chocolate.

Steve eyes him curiously. “You okay, man? You’ve snapped at nearly every person who’s come in here for a brownie. You allergic or somethin? I can move ‘em…”

Javier nearly snarls. “No, I am not allergic,” he says very calmly, the words clipped.

He manages to escape a little while before Steve, citing his early arrival as an excuse to head home. As he pulls into the drive, however, he passes your familiar figure on the corner.

His head thunks against the steering wheel. Steeling himself, he gets out of the car as you walk up.

“Hi Javi!” You beam at him, and his heart nearly beats right out of his fucking chest.

Tiredness lines your face from a long hospital shift, but it doesn’t stop you from looking all caring as you take him in. He doesn’t even want to imagine what you see: his shirt wrinkled from constantly shifting and tugging at it all day, his face pinched from scowling.

“Are you okay, Javi? You look flushed.” You bite your lip in a concerned frown.

It’s a struggle to hide his aggravation. “Long day at work,” he mutters, fumbling with the building keys, trying not to look like he’s hurrying.

Luckily you don’t seem to notice his temper. “God, me too. I’m gonna go take a nap. All I’ve been thinking about all day is getting back in bed.”

The mention of you and getting in bed and Javier about bursts into flame. He stutters out an excuse, all but bolting for his door. The lock clicks firmly behind him.

He stomps through the apartment to his bedroom, shedding clothing as he goes. His shoes and jacket dropped by the couch. His shirt yanked off and flung over a dining room chair. His jeans shoved down at the foot of his bed.

He stumbles to the wall you share, breathing ragged, resting one hand flat against it as the other finally wraps around the hard-on he’s been nursing for hours.

His lip nearly bleeds with the force he bites into it to stifle his groan. Every inch of his skin feels exquisitely sensitive, his blood racing hot in his veins from thinking of you all day. From thinking of you now, just on the other side of this wall. Shedding your scrubs, sliding amidst your bedsheets, unaware of the state you’ve put him in. Or maybe you are aware. Maybe you can hear him panting, strangling sighs of your name as he imagines your lips on his skin, your hand squeezing his cock. Encouraging him sweetly while he strokes himself higher and higher-

And comes harder than he ever has on his own. Shaking and gasping, there’s no way you don’t hear the sound which escapes him then. For a second he feels light-headed.

When his eyes open again, he grimaces at the mess on the wall. As his heart rate settles, his expression further contorts imagining the potential consequences for what he just did. For what you could have heard.

Maybe...he should do something about this.

--

Post A/N: Sorry for the negative implications about Steve and Connie’s marriage, I promise they’re fine! I’m just a simple writer in need of storytelling devices <3

Also someone pls tell me if I used the wrong form of the verb ‘to sleep’

Fic Taglist: @din-damn-djarin, @thirstworldproblemss, @remembertoreadthese, @knightowl247, @pamguini

[sabraeal]

Born to Make History

A prequel to this prompt from an earlier collection! The short program I reference here it based very heavily off of Nathan Chen’s 2021 short program which you can find here

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Figure Skating AU

“I hope you weren’t expecting me to go easy on you this morning.” Garrack’s voice booms across the ice, loud enough that a few other skaters slow, craning their necks to see who the fabled Coach Gazelt would chew out next. “Your work is just beginning if you want to call this a comeback.”

A groan rumbles in the back of her throat, dying to be let out, but it’s impossible to miss the small figure sweeping the eyes, dark hair curling over his eyes. Ryuu’s here already, picking at some footwork-- his transitions are his weakest element if his scores are anything to go by, but he’s determined to make it his best. Shirayuki breathes in, six counts in and eight counts out, and lets her protest die on her tongue.

Shirayuki slides out, stomping her skates beneath her to get feeling back in her legs. “I know you better than that.”

Her muscles ache as she eases into a lap, letting the ice settle beneath her. When she was small, she could blast out into the rink like a cannon ball, running across it like it was just another bit of ground beneath her feet. But she left it, and silly as it sounds, the ice hasn’t forgiven her. Her blades don’t tremble like the used to, but a few days off the ice-- especially folded up on an Transatlantic flight-- leaves her with a drunken lurch, the whole world passing by too fast.

But it’s quick to even out, her body warming to the chill of the rink, to the way her legs have to bend to keep her moving. After a lap or two, control is easy as breathing, as easy as swimming to a fish. The ice may not have forgiven her, but it’s missed her too.

She glides to a stop right at Garrack’s toes, sending up a little spray. It earns her a smile, tight-lipped but approving. She’ll earn teeth once she gives it a medal to sink in to. “I think if you let up on me for a moment, I’d have to take you to a hospital.”

Her coach barks out a laugh, blonde hair ruffling out like a halo from her bun. “Oh, Shirayuki. You say the sweetest things.”

It might be cold in the rink, but it doesn’t do anything but make her cheeks burn hotter. She forgets, but these Americans-- they don’t really take ‘hard ass’ as a compliment.

Well, most wouldn’t. Garrack looks quite pleased, though.

“Aw, coach.” Hands catch at her shoulders, and she knows them even before a sandy head peeps over them. “Can’t you give her one easy day? She’s finally made senior!”

“Oh, Higata, really, there’s no need--”

“Sure.” Garrack bares her all her teeth in a smile Shirayuki’s willing to bet has been the last earthly sight of some of her students. “But if I give her a pass, you boys will have to pick up the slack.”

Already, Higata’s hands loosen their grip. “N-now, I didn’t say--”

It’s far, far too late for him to quibble over exactly what was and wasn’t said on the ice. “What do you think? Balance drills? Or we can see how far you’ve come with your flexibility for spins.” Garrack tilts back her head, giving him a speculative look. “Maybe even run through her routine once...?”

“Ah, Shirayuki!” He gives her a firm pat on the back, sliding away. “I did what I could! Viel Glück!”

Garrack watches him skate off with a satisfied grin lingering on her lips. “Nice boy, that Higata. Thick as a hockey puck, but nice.”

Shirayuki knows better than to posit her own opinion when Garrack’s in a punchy mood. “The usual warm up, then?”

Garrack levels her with another of her measuring glances. It’s the sort that could bring grown men to their knees-- she saw it happen once, outside of a rink in Wisconsin-- but Shirayuki is used to it now. Assessment is a tool, and Garrack Gazelt has made her career by being good at it.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” she asks instead. “You only got off a plane yesterday. That time change is easier the other way.”

She nods. “Really, I’m fine.”

Garrack sits back in her hips, one arm tucked under the other, and takes a long, thoughtful drag out of her thermos. Shirayuki shifts on her skates, trying to look-- awake. Ready to seize the day.

I’ll push you. Garrack had made no bones about that during their first lunch in Strasburg. She’d given her a similar look then too, assessing, trying to see that promising junior skater in a university student’s body. But you’re a professional. You say stop, we stop. You say go, we push on. You’re at the wheel for this one. I’m just your emergency brake.

“All right,” she sighs. “Keep it simple, though. Think easy, for once.”

“I said I was--”

Garrack flaps a gloved hand. “It’s not about you. I took a look at the books this morning, and Haruka’s right after us.”

Shirayuki blinks. Strange, he usually grabs the first slot. “Are you avoiding him?”

“Me?” She presses her thermos to her chest, scandalized. As if she and Haruka don’t skulk about the rink when they see each other, hissing like cats when necessity forced them onto the same practice time. “I don’t avoid anyone.”

A dubious hum goads her to tepidly add, “No more than he deserves.”

Shirayuki folds her arms across her chest.

“No more than usual,” Garrack promises. “But that’s not why we’re going to get off the ice.”

She lifts a brow. “And why is that?”

If Garrack weren’t in skates herself, she’d be bouncing on her toes. “I want to be in the seats when he sends his students out.”

Shirayuki’s mouth pulls thin. “The season just ended, and already you’re trying to--?”

“No, no. I’m not looking to poach, and I don’t care what routines he’s working on for next season.” She huffs, hair fluffing out in agitation. “And his aren’t better than mine anyway, he just has top tier skaters because him and Haruto like to rub--”

A polite cough breaks her concentration, enough for Shirayuki to sneak in, “Then what exactly do you need to see?”

Garrack’s mouth curls into a smile Zen has, on more than one occasion, called grinch-like. She leans in, voice dropping to a whisper, and says, “Haruka’s putting someone new on the ice.”

“A new student?’ Zen sputters, skates limp in his hands. “Haruka never said he was taking on a new student.”

“They aren’t on the roster.” Shirayuki’s shoulders hunch around her ears, as if that might keep her words between them. “And the other coaches don’t know anything either.”

Zen settles back against the bench. “We just got back from Worlds three days ago. How could he possibly have someone new that quickly?”

“Maybe it’s someone who just promoted from juniors.” She should be excited; a new student with that level of ability would be someone to watch, to learn from. But instead anxiety twists in her gut, a snake that slithers itself into tighter and tighter knots. “I saw your program, by the way. You did well.”

“I got fourth,” Zen grumbles, sliding his foot into a skate. “No wonder he already scouted a replacement.”

“Haruka would never replace you, and certainly not because you were a jump shy of bronze.” Or silver, which if he’d skated clean, he would have earned in spades. “Kiki placed second. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s jumped to a coach with someone on the podium when they started competing at the senior level.”

“Sure,” he grumbles, “but usually it takes long than--”

“What are you two talking about over here?” Kiki drops her duffel unceremoniously between them, the bench warbling beneath it. “Gossiping, I hope?”

“Just our progress at Worlds,” Zen lies smoothly, sending her a secretive wink. She’s not sure why-- Haruka’s always favored Kiki; if anyone knew anything about this mystery student, it would be her. “Shirayuki was just saying how impressive it is to get so close to the podium, but I said--”

“Right.” Kiki casts her gaze over the ice; a few weeks ago there would have been nothing to that, just a casual glance, but Shirayuki knows her better now, enough to see the hopeful perk of her chin and the inquiring lift of her perfectly shaped eyebrows. She’s looking for someone; even when her gaze swings back to Shirayuki, she knows it’s not about her. “What were you two talking about?”

Zen squawks. “I said--”

“I know.” Her voice is even, logical. “But Shirayuki can’t lie.”

Shirayuki wants to protest-- she can, really, she’s done it before-- but takes one look at her and blurts out, “Haruka has a new student.”

Her skates clatter to the floor. “What was that?”

“Well,” Zen murmurs, mouth twitching. “I guess somebody isn’t the favorite after all.”

Garrack may be content to sit in the seats as Zen and Kiki take the ice, but Shirayuki leans on the barrier, letting the chill brush over her face. At this level, they’ve all been skating since they were old enough to fall and get back up. But unlike her, Zen and Kiki have never stopped, and the gap in skill has never been more apparent than now. They take to the rink like birds to air, winding around each other in complex circuits, slapping hands and turning circles around each other.

That’s the other thing: they’ve always had each other. Kiki’s hardly twenty, but there’s already rumors of Milan being her last Olympics, of what she might do once she’s over the hill-- and the first word on anyone’s lips is pairs. The second and third are Zen Wisteria, since there’s not a person alive who can imagine a competition without either of them on the ice.

Her fingers grip the rail’s rubber rim hard enough to leave crescents. They’d look good together-- they do look good together. It makes sense to go that route if Zen picks up a gold. It’s what his father did, years ago. For his mother.

The gate swings open, and they both glide to a stop. But then, to be fair, so does most of the rink.

There is no official size for a skater-- not like gymnastics, where smaller equals better and taller equals a very gentle nudge toward ballet-- but still, there is a trend to fall on the shorter size of average, at least in singles. Height might give more control on the ice, might give an extra spin or two, but when it came to jumps, the less bulk heaved from the ice the better. But Haruka’s student--

Well, he’s certainly not Mitsuhide’s height, but even with his slouch he’s taller than most men here. In his skates, he even looks down at Haruka-- though it’s not much of a feat; the man never comes onto the ice, just stands behind the barrier to shout his way through practice. Not that he needs to raise his voice to make his displeasure known; a single frown usually sends Zen and Kiki gliding back to him, heads bowed.

He’s outright glowering now, but his new student only rubs at his hair, a half-gloved hand riffling through black bristle. There’s something about him, something about the way he moves that seems familiar, if only she could catch his face--

But then the thrum of a guitar rolls over the ice, tinny on the rink’s speakers-- Zen’s song, his short program. The one that fell just short of the podium, because he put a hand down after a jump got away from him. Haruka’s student turns around, and even from where she stands, she recognizes the grin.

Oh no. No.

It should be Zen at the center of the ice, but this guy pushes out instead. His black clothes making him a stark contrast to the ice, to the barriers around him. Zen’s already halfway to the center, confused and a bit agitated, looking like he’s about to have words-- and then Haruka’s student glides out, Spanish guitars warbling in his wake.

He moves like water-- no, like a blade through water, each motion of his arms both flowing and sharp, carving through the air with a grace than even Zen would be hard pressed to copy. His hips swing, daring angles that should throw him off his footwork, that should leave him stumbling, but instead he’s mesmerizing, a flamenco dancer that does not need to touch the ground.

“Who is he?” Ryuu murmurs, shifting in the seat behind her.

“I wish I knew.” Jealousy drips thickly from Garrack’s voice. “Just where did Haruka dig up a gem like this?”

Tanbarun, Shirayuki nearly says, but she can’t speak, can’t do anything but watch this man skate Zen’s routine like he owns it, like it was made for him. She expects him to mark the jump sequence-- quad toe, triple toe loop-- but the moment he jumps, she knows-- it’s clean. No, more than clean, because this isn’t a joke, not a sly wink and smile to his new friends--

He’s come to compete.

“Can you believe that?” Zen normally floats like a cloud on the ice, but right now he looks like he could thunder and storm too as the song switches to the next on deck. “He did my whole routine.”

Kiki’s mouth cants, wry. “Better than you did.”

He snaps to her like a lightning crack. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would.” Garrack saunters up to the barrier with a barracuda’s smile, raising a brow. “If you’d gone that clean at Worlds, that would have placed you. Maybe would have brought home gold.”

Zen only glowers, and Shirayuki sends her coach a pleading glance. It’s a hopeless cause to wish she’d keep her mouth shut, but maybe Garrack might blunt her tongue.

She really should know better.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone move like that,” Garrack sighs, tapping her hand on the plastic. “Not since...”

Your brother, she doesn’t say; a small mercy. Zen’s grimace says he heard it anyway.

“Where’s he from?” Ryuu asks, appearing at her elbow. His brows are drawn, grave over his already serious eyes. “I haven’t seen him at any competition.”

Shirayuki bites her cheek to keep from saying, I have.

“That’s the question,” Garrack grumbles, looking greener by the second. “Where did he find an unknown that can skate like that? It can’t be--”

“Korea.”

The accent that says it is distinctly not that; oh no, there is a deeper rumble on the ‘r’, a harder ‘k’ at the start. A thicker accent than he’d sported when he loomed over her, gold eyes cold as coins, and asked, I think you get my point, da?

When she turns, there he is: her saboteur in the flesh.

“Well, well, devushka.” His grin stretches wide, elbowing in between Zen and Kiki. “Long time no see.”

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Mission of Mercy: Thirty-Five

Bucky wasn’t sure what the fuck your mother was trying to accomplish, but he knew she wasn’t doing it. You were using the same tone of voice you used with Rookies who were having a breakdown.  And that Bucky assumed you used with clients in an old life.

There was too much chatter for him to clearly make out the words. The clink and clatter of glasses and cutlery and the low, buzzing hum of conversation. Ostensibly, this was a celebratory dinner. One that you’d organized without telling your mom it was a celebration. And now, after the announcement, you were standing off to the side trying to coax her into coming back to the table. Because of all things, your mother was furious that you were using a family heirloom as your engagement ring. 

Because it should have been Clay’s. But mostly because it had never been given to Rex to give to her. Rex had, evidently, told her it had been lost instead of telling her that his mother just forbade him to use it. 

Joe glanced to the side and cringed slightly, “Sorry, kid,” he sighed, “I didn’t know it would cause this much of a fuss.”

Bucky smiled a little and let the waited refill his glass, “It’s not like you could have known… Y/N either for that matter.”

“Still-” but whatever he meant to say, was cut off when he saw you walking back towards the table with your mom.

“Everything okay?” Natasha asked, stepping on Steve’s foot to keep him from getting up to pull out Carlie’s chair. 

“Fine,” you say brightly, giving her a meaningful look over your mom shoulder. 

“It isn’t,” Carlie argued, “It isn’t yours.”

“Carlie,” Joe cut in over you, “Margie didn’t like you. Nobody did. And, at the time you and Rex got married my wife was still wearing it.” The old man sounded tired. He hated that this was being discussed in public. “I gave it to the boy because Clay is dead. I figured it made sense for Y/N to use it now… And if they ever have a son she can gift it to him.”

Carlie made an irritated sound and Bucky heard you mutter, “Mom, you’re making a scene. No stop.” And there was a sudden little bit of calm. It swept through the table like a cool breeze on a hot still day.

“I hate it when you do that,” she snapped. Still obviously irritated. “It’s creepy.”

And for the first time, Bucky realized that you didn’t change a person’s emotions. You just changed their perception. 

“I like it,” Steve said helpfully. Bucky nodded in agreement and hoped Steve or Sam would have something to add. 

“Xanax doesn’t work on supersoldiers,” Sam said stage whispering to Carlie.

“Really?”

Steve and Bucky both nodded. And then it happened. 

Things went from bad to worse. And like the barometer you are, you saw it coming but couldn’t do anything about it.

“She’s an asset on missions,” Steve said trying to be helpful. And three Identical gasps. From Sam, From Joe, and from Carlie, clued Steve in that he had made a horrible, terrible mistake.

“On missions?” Carlie said rounding on you, “I thought you worked at the hospital.”

“I do,” you say, taking a sip of your champagne, “Part time.”

“You lied to me?”

The ear splitting screech caused both supersoldiers to wince and several other dinner parties to turn and glare.

“To avoid exactly this conversation,” you say calmly. Bucky knows you don’t feel calm. He can see the tension ratcheting down on your body. Ready to run. He puts an arm around the back of your chair and squeezes your shoulder.

When she raised her hand to slap you ,you catch her wrist, “Stop.” Your voice never rose, it was still the same calm tone.

“Ma’am your daughter is a hero,” Steve tried. 

But when it was clear you weren’t going to bow to her tirades she twisted her wrist out of your grip and swatted her drink at you, spattering your face, your dress, Bucky and Joe with the gin and tonic she had been drinking. You sat stock still and didn’t turn your head as she stormed off  but you did take the napkin Sam proffered to get the liquor off your face.

��Excuse me,” you say quietly, standing and turning the opposite direction she’d gone. Heading towards the washroom. And Natasha follows with both of your bags quickly. She isn't sure what exactly you have in your bag to fix your make up but she says a silent thank you to the creator of waterproof mascara. 

Bucky watches helplessly for a minute and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Thanks, Steve.”

“She called her creepy,” Steve said, offended on your behalf.

Joe chuckled bitterly, “Son,” he said, “That’s mild. And nothing compared to the earful she’s gonna get.” The old man shook his head and pushed his plate away. Sam looked towards where your mother was standing outside waiting for someone to chase after her. To soothe her wounded feelings.

“Are you gonna-”

“Nope,” Bucky said, not turning.

“Buck-” Steve started, not really sure what he wants to say but knowing that Bucky looks livid.

“Stop helping,” Sam said quietly, watching Joe pat the brunette’s shoulder. 

Bucky turned and looked at the old man and he smiled a little, “Give her a few minutes to get herself calmed down.” Bucky nodded and took a deep breath. 

“Well this wasn’t how I wanted the night to go,” he said dabbing at his shirt with the napkin Steve handed him and handing one to Joe. “Do the melt downs ever get less dramatic?”

“Nope.”

Bucky watched Carlie start back inside and stood, “Excuse me, gentlemen. I’m about to go put the fear of god in this woman.”

____

You pause at the door of the washroom, looking towards the window. “What’s Bucky doing?” you ask, lips bloodless. So far you’d managed to keep them mostly separated. Your mother required careful handling and you’d built a pleasant little fiction for her about your life.

“I don’t know,” Natasha said quietly, looking to where Bucky’s co-conspirators appeared to be pretending nothing was happening. She handed the glass a helpful waitress had given her to another waitress and linked her arm through yours. 

“Chin up, tits out, I suppose,” you mutter letting her lead you to the table. You kiss Joe on the cheek and take the chair Sam is holding for you.

“What’s going on?” Natasha asked. 

Joe cleared his throat and took a sip of his beer, “Tin Man out there is giving Carlie the tongue lashing she deserves I  imagine.” When you make a strangled sound and start to get up, Joe puts a hand on your arm. “Sunshine,” he said quietly, “You sit right there. People have been kowtowing to her shit since you were a baby. But now you’re grown and there’s no way for her to hold you over all our heads. This has been a long time coming.”

_______

Carlie turned to face Bucky, expecting her future son-in-law to give her a sympathetic ear. She sniffled pathetically and Bucky had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. “What the fuck,” he asked quietly, “Do you think you’re doing?”

The woman in front of him drew herself up to his full height and glared at him “Don’t you dare-”

“I will dare. And I’ll tell you this. You ever talk to my wife like that again and I’ll personally make sure that you never see her again. We’re not playing the poor me game any more. You think you’re the only one at that table that’s ever been lied to? Ever lost somebody?” He took a deep breath and half a step forward making Carlie move back out of the walk way and closer to the wall. 

“You don’t know how hard it is,” she spat.

“No- I only spent 70 years as a mind controlled zombie while everyone I ever loved thought I was dead. Carlie, no one wins the misery olympics.”

“I raised-”

“Everyone else raised,” he corrected. “They raised those kids while you wallowed and treated Y/N like she was a freak. Do you know why Y/N joined SHIELD?”

Carlie didn’t answer. She wouldn’t even look at Bucky.

“She took the job because she thought it was her one chance to find Clay and bring him home.”

The woman looked up and he shook his head. “She talks about him like he’s in the next room. Everything she’s ever done she’s been competing with your ghosts. And I’m not going to let her anymore.”

He hailed a cab for her and turned, taking a deep breath. He had more he wanted to say but he just couldn’t. He was so angry that he was liable to say something he couldn’t take back. So he left. Leaving her to decide where she was going and to go and kiss you until he didn’t want to shake your mother until her teeth rattled.

[dixtrich]

BLAKE DIETRICH ( HE/HIM ) is a MALE, TWENTY-FIVE year old SOCIALITE/GANG MEMBER who has been living in Moorbrooke for TWENTY-FIVE YEARS. Right now, they are currently residing in ELMSETT GREEN. It has been said that they look suspiciously like NICHOLAS GALITZINE and if they had to choose a song to describe themselves, they would choose WITNESS by MINDLESS SELF INDULGENCE.

Baby boy Blake was never the golden boy as much as he tried. Since he was born, he caused nothing but trouble for his mother at least; his father never paid much attention, being honest. He was born during a camping trip; Ms. Dietrich started with contractions and even bleeding while swimming in the lake. She was hurried to the hospital and because of that, he was named Blake which means Son of Lake.

He was second to an older brother named Quade: the football star in high school, the one everybody talked about and you cannot blame them! He was quite the charmer, quite the… manipulator. Blake always stood in his shadow, but he didn’t really mind, Quade was the only one who ever really paid attention to him. You see, his father was an important business man while his mother was basically a socialite back when they lived in New York before he was born. They moved to Moorbrooke because little towns were in that season. Blake’s dad kept going to NY to keep up with his office job and sometimes the mother would go with him to update her wardrobe. ( more to come on the parents later ).

The matters of normies never affected them much until there were some news about a possible gang in town and still, it was a rather unimportant thing... until they took Quade.        SPOILER: Quade is alive.

The family mourned so much for a month and afterwards, they just closed Quade’s bedroom door and kept it like that forever, ignoring the memory of their son and ignoring their pain. Blake didn’t find the truth of what happened to his brother until he was around 17 years old. Quade came to him in the shape of a beast, not quite literally, but on his window appeared the silhouette of a man with a mask. Long story short: Quade was alive, he had faked his death by hands of the gang to start anew as the new leader said gang that had been terrorizing Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts and Vermont. This gang was called THE PACK and their distinctive nature was the use of animal masks to hide their identities; Quade as leader, was the only one allowed to use a human skull mask.

Blake was inivited to join him and since Quade was the only one who accepted him, he said yes. Anything for his big brother. He joined The Pack under the identity of HELLHOUND. While using the mask, far from being a regular mid-twentieth boy, Blake became a strategist and a killing machine with guns and cars. He was the image of anarchy itself disrupting order and creating mayhem anywhere he stepped. Gunshots, arson, uncontrollable parties and so on. Hellhound followed the leader’s rules with eagerness as long as he could rip apart and destroy whatever or… whoever.

But nobody knew! For everyone else, he was still one to go to church every Sunday, attending cocktail parties to pass the time and getting ready to join his father’s company; although he had secretly started taking some online courses and clases of history and literature because his main goal in life was to become a poet.

A strong Gryffindor, Blake is playful and madly loyal; one to pull at your hair during mass but one to follow the rules when he is under Quade’s orders. Bad Boy ‘til the end, he has a reputation for getting in trouble, but nothing ever too damaging to actually get arrested. Not a favorite of the cops most likely. Secretly sweet and with a secret knack to bake and write, but these are not hardcore so people don’t really know about them. Loves attention, used to get in trouble at school so his parents paid attention to him.

I am sure I missed a bunch of stuff but I wanted to get this out asdlkf. Will be updating!

Fun facts:

Is actually really good with kids!

Loves bubbles smh.

With the mask on, he is a whole different person and can act more feral.

Sadistic tendencies.

He loves playing pretend and being a good boy at important rich people’s parties.

Out of the mask he is teasing and even kinda immature, he will stick his tongue out to you and everything if he finds out that annoys you.

You can see him competing in illegal racing at least three times a week!

The Pack is mainly into weapon trafficking and doing just anything that pays good enough.

Is good, but being good never brought him any good. Very street smart and of quick thinking, but Quade manipulates him just too much.

Aesthetic:

A BIG SPECTRAL BLACK DOG THAT STARES FROM YOUR BACKGROUND

ABSOLUTE ANARCHY.

AN IMPROPER COMMENTARY DROPPED QUIETLY AT CHURCH THAT MADE THE PRISTINE CHOIR GIRL GIGGLE.

SECRETLY PLAYING ROBIN HOOD BECAUSE IF SOMEBODY KNEW YOU ARE HELPING YOU WOULD BE DEAD, OH SO DEAD.

THE THIN LINE BETWEEN REBELLIOUS HEROISM AND BRUTAL ANTAGONISM.

NEON LIGHTS GLOWING THROUGH THE WINDOW AS YOU MAKE OUT IN THE BACKSEAT OF THE CAR.

THE SMELL OF SULFUR SHORT BEFORE CLOAKED FIGURES SURROUND YOU OMINOUSLY.

Connections:

Someone attacked by the gang maybe.

Members of the gang ofc!!!

Fwb, exes, crushes that go either way. GIMME THE ANGST.

Childhood friends/acquaintances

Someone that knows he is part of The Pack.

Good influence

Bad influence

Tbh just anything pls!

Pinterest board!