#but i get food fatigue real quick and then it makes me Not want to eat the same thing again

[spectrearia]

lol i wish i didn't hate eating so much, its always so difficult to just get myself to eat Anything even if i really, really need it. idk why.

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.6k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. warnings for more mentions of death and jungkook being an idiot

part five: the phone call, the apology and the confession  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

xii. the phone call

  being on the farm made you feel like a kid again - that was a given. when you were young, you often made your chores into games, to see how fast you could feed the chickens or tend to crops. however, being the sole individual responsible for upkeep and for the way the farm was now your source of income, it was evidently no longer a fun little game when barbies got boring. while you were in charge of your own schedule, you eventually hit the point where you felt like all of your energy was gone everyday. one of the only things that was keeping you sane was your friends.

  on the other hand, jungkook was having the exact opposite effect - driving you insane. for more than one reason.

  the email blast for movie night was originally forwarded to you by taehyung and you did accept, which you ultimately regretted come the night of. you usually didn’t partake in much during the week, as you reserved your social battery for the saloon on the weekends, but you didn’t see any issue upon receiving the invitation. 

  “do you want me to make you a coffee?” jungkook offered, as he stood across from you on the opposite end of taehyung’s kitchen island.

  it was the usual cluster of people gathered in taehyung’s charming bungalow, close to the river. you’d never been in a group of friends that were so adamant to their dedication of spending time together and not using work or school as an excuse to shut themselves in. most of the boys had brought food or drinks without any prior arrangement or communication, resulting in an abundance to share.

  you were glad you thought of picking up a bottle of wine beforehand and wasn’t the odd one out, but with your fatigue, you knew you weren’t going to be able to enjoy it yourself. it was the day for cleaning pens and sorting waste, so you’d been outside all day and smelled exactly like your chores. even though you took a lengthy shower and mentally prepared for movie night, you were exhausted beyond measure. 

  you shook your head. “i’m okay, thank you. i have to get up at five tomorrow.”

  from behind you, seokjin emerged from the living room and despite the current movie only halfway through - it was apparently jungkook’s pick, captain america: the first avenger - it looked like he was ready to leave. leftovers in hand, he brought jungkook in for a quick side hug and then did the same for you.

  “bye guys! sorry i have to leave early. y/n, i’ll come by tomorrow after work for the eggs?” seokjin beamed, leaning on the door frame and you noticed a handful of pink carnations in his grasp.

  you gave him a thumbs up. slowly, but surely, the tides were turning for the farm and making profit. you didn’t lack confidence that you would be able to make money for yourself, but you were unsure of how long it would take for your income sources to be stabilized. building a customer base off of the farm’s longstanding customers was easier than expected, but you had to work on improving efficiency and diversification of your products. at the end of the day, though, you were just one person and you were doing well. 

  this is what you continued to attempt to explain to your parents. shortly after seokjin’s departure, before you could join the rest of your friends and finish the movie, you received a call from your father and you excused yourself to taehyung’s backyard.

  your mother was the type to be overbearing and overprotective, while your father had a knack for criticizing you and making you question yourself. since moving, you seldom provided business updates to your father, which likely led to this phone call in the first place.

  “you’ve thought about how you’ll need to make further investments, right?” his voice was dry and it made your blood boil.

  breathing in deeply, you simply replied, “yes.”

  “okay, have you been managing your time well? the physical demands of the job?”

  it was as if your dad kept rattling off a list of reasons why you were incompetent for your role and you didn’t notice until now, but you had dug half-crescent moons into the palm of your hand. no matter how many times you said yes or that you had it covered, he continued going.

  by the time you finally escaped the phone call, you already began thoughts of doubt and wondering if he was on to something. you were saying you were handling things, but were you really? your worn down, sore body was screaming at you as you pondered.

  eventually, the sliding door into the house creaked open and you remembered where you were. jungkook appeared, having slipped on a denim jacket to combat the slight wind in the air and stepped out to the deck. there was a small frown drawn on his face.

  “you okay?” he asked.

  nearing a month in town and several weeks of jungkook’s presence becoming a constant around the farm, it was safe to say that the two of you grew close once again. it was more than you were willing to admit, that was for sure. it still surprised you when you heard how harsh your tone was when you opened your mouth.

  “i need to go home,” you snapped. you could feel your eyelids growing heavy, too, and you couldn’t be around anyone but yourself right now.

  jungkook raised his eyebrows. “already? that’s too bad, you missed most of the movie.”

  “just gotta go,” you mumbled, stuffing your phone into the back pocket of your jeans.

  you got up, remembering that you left your sweater indoors, but jungkook still stood in front of the door. you had to hold back from grumbling.

  “i was hoping you’d go for a ride with me before you went home.”

  “a ride?” you sputtered. “no, i can’t do that.” your response was immediate and you noticed the way his eyes widened for a moment, as if he said something wrong. you were too tired to clarify how tired you were or how you haven’t been able to bring yourself to attempt riding again. it was a topic of discussion for another day.

  jungkook wasn’t sure what to say. “oh, okay.” and just like that, you side-stepped right past him and into the house to grab your things.

  the exit was unceremonious and it was fast, as you were holding back tears from the phone call with your father. you could vaguely recall jungkook asking you if he could walk you home, but you already flew out the door. your body was shaking the entire time after the conversation and you could only focus on making it home.

  your heart was in your throat and your shoulders were tense, as your head hung down the entire walk back to the farmhouse. you knew things weren’t going to magically be easy, but you at least thought you were doing a good job. you only wanted your parents to think the same.

  amidst your physical and mental exhaustion, you realized you took a wrong turn and weren’t sure where you were. your chest tightened and you could only wonder what kind of bad luck you rolled for the day. cheeks wet from stray tears, you wanted to scream.

you pulled your phone out, only realize it was a dead battery. maybe you were as helpless as your dad kept making you out to be, since you seemed to always find yourself in these kinds of situations. a cold breeze danced around your body and you shivered aloud. 

  “y/n?” 

  you recognized the voice to be seokjin, who no longer held flowers and seemed to be heading home. you hastily wiped your face, which he didn’t miss. he tentatively approached closer.

  “the farm is the other way, where are you going at this time of night?” seokjin asked gently.

  “i guess i took a wrong turn,” you sighed, hoping the way your breath shook when you did so wasn’t so obvious.

  seokjin offered to walk you back home and this time, in all your weariness, accepted. you peered over as the two of you walked and saw jungkook’s name flash on his phone. you remembered how you left the house and a heavy load of guilt settled in your stomach. you made the metal note to apologize to him tomorrow. 

  “i thought you had somewhere to be?” you tried breaking the awkward silence. 

  seokjin never missed a hangout with the boys and even if he had somewhere to go, he made sure that he provided snacks or anything of the sort to his friends. he was the type to take care of everyone. even you, a newcomer to town, seokjin didn’t forget to make you an extra cookie when he made some for the boys or save a seat for you at the saloon. 

  his smile seemed different than usual. “i made a quick stop to the cemetery to say hi to my wife.”

  you broke eye contact, looking down. you weren’t sure until that moment, but over the past month, you were forming the idea that seokjin’s wife wasn’t around. you connected the dots, but didn’t want to ask anyone for confirmation. 

  “can i ask how long?” you spoke slowly.

  “two years today. taehyung didn’t know what day it was when he planned the movie, but i insisted that everyone go on with the plans and i would just leave early.” 

  he explained that he moved to amber valley to be with his wife four years ago, before she passed away due to a terminal illness. you couldn’t even imagine. like jungkook, you would have never been able to tell with seokjin. you wondered if it was the same for others when they interacted with you, if the remnants of your grief were evident in your day-to-day motions. 

  you said, “loss is a funny thing. it follows you everywhere and you don’t notice until you remember to turn around.”

  “that means loss is also something that you have to leave behind you, y/n. it’s not easy, but you get there.” the small smile on seokjin’s face, whose energy never faltered, was comforting. “it’s people like you and jungkook that inspire me to look forward from loss. i think we’re all doing well for ourselves.”

  before the conversation with seokjin, you wouldn’t have been able to agree with that. you’d spend the last hour or so dwelling on the things you weren’t doing right or weren’t doing enough of. but, he was right. you were doing your absolute best and that was all that mattered. 

  xiii. the apology

  the days that followed, you saw less and less of jungkook. deep down, you knew it was your fault. you didn’t mean to storm out on him after the call with your dad and you lacked opportunities to apologize. he still replied to your texts, albeit with less enthusiasm and playfulness than usual. it seemed like he had legitimate excuses to step away from the farm, though, having heard from taehyung that mrs. oh was sick that week and jungkook had to take on more at work.

  you decided to take matters into your own hands. after failing to appear at the saloon that weekend, you decided to take an extra long lunch break on sunday and found yourself walking over to his store. this wasn’t the first time you visited him at work - in fact, you stopped by earlier in the week because you were passing by and you wanted to bother him. it wouldn’t be out of place for you to pop in.

  “is jungkook not here?” you asked sangwoo, mrs. oh’s thirteen year old son who was propped up in front of the register, watching a tv show on his phone. 

  sangwoo’s bored eyes looked up at you. “dunno. he’s not working today.”

  that was strange. you thought that was the part of the reason why he couldn’t come by the farm. you thanked the boy and left the store, wondering what you should do next. you contemplated texting him, but he left the meme you sent last night on delivered.

  as you walked back to the farm, you decided to take an early left turn and soon ended up in front of jungkook’s house. since moving back, this was actually your first time seeing his house again. it looked mostly untouched from your memories and you noticed that the white pick-up truck that once belongs to jungkook’s dad was still kept in the driveway. the tree in his front yard still had the same tire swing that you once almost broke your neck fooling around on.

  you weren’t entirely sure about what you were doing to say when he opened the door. you decided against outright accusing him of avoiding you, even though that was exactly what you thought he was doing. maybe take a page out of his book and conjure up a wild excuse.

  when you rang the doorbell, you realized there was no sound that followed and softly knocked instead. in a few moments, the door creaked open, just enough for you to make out jiwon’s big eyes.

  “oh, hi y/n!” her toothy smile reminded you of her big brother.

  you mirrored the smile. “hi jiwon. do you mind getting jungkook?”

  she opened the door wider and you could make out the living room behind her. there, you noticed hoseok fast asleep on the leather recliner seat in front of the television. jiwon quietly put a finger to her pursed lips, pointing to hoseok’s sleeping figure. she stepped out and you made space for her, as she closed the door. 

  “your brother is out?” you asked.

  jiwon nodded, clutching onto the teddy bear in her hand. it was the same one that once belonged to jungkook. you remembered because when you guys turned eleven, you made fun of him for a whole summer straight for still carrying it around. her other hand held a handheld electric fan to ward off the amber valley summer heat.

  “he took leo to the vet. why are you looking for him?” she sang the last part, swinging back and forth, looking up at you with a smirk that seemed to know more than you did. 

  you assumed leo was jungkook’s horse, knowing he continued to keep them at his house. that instilled a sense of relief in you, as it made you think less than he was intentionally avoiding you. your bubble was shortly burst.

jiwon sat down on the porch bench. “oh, and he’s definitely avoiding you!”

  “what?” you blinked, thinking that you didn’t hear her correctly.

  “i said hoseok is the worst sitter, i’m bored with nothing to do.”

  this little girl was definitely jeon jungkook’s sister, the mischievous glint in her eyes was all the proof you needed. 

  for the next half an hour, despite having only left the farm for a quick break, you broke out in conversation with jiwon and enjoyed chatting with her. you always wanted a sister and you always complained that god gave you jungkook as a friend instead. you couldn’t believe how bubbly and intelligent jiwon was for her age.

  jiwon was sitting crisscrossed, playing with the arm of her stuffed animal. “unnie. . .” you didn’t even flinch when she called you that, instead smiling. “can i ask you something?”

  “sure, jiwon,” you replied.

  she looked off to where her dad’s old truck was parked. “can you tell me what my parents were like? oppa gets kind of upset when i ask.” 

  you froze. the last month, you were dedicated to connecting with the valley once more. over time, you remembered the smell of coffee in town square and the way the sand on the beach shone like glitter. you remembered what it was like having neighbours and how cutting fresh grass felt like home. it was gradual, but you were slowly getting there. regardless, some memories only lived in picture frames and buried in your mind, underneath years that have gone by.

  “they were the best people,” you offered, closing your eyes and trying to imagine yourself on the same porch with jungkook as kids, where his dad taught you two how to play chess and his mom would always come out with iced tea after a long day. “your dad was the kind of man who was good at everything. he showed jungkook and i how to fly a kite, how to play chess - “

  “i love chess!” she interrupted, the smile on her face widening at the thought of her dad sharing something with her.

  like jungkook, jiwon looked at the brighter side of life. it was admirable. you could only wish it was contagious. 

  jiwon began swinging her legs on the bench. “i have the best oppa, but i feel bad for him sometimes. he was really smart when you were little, right?”

  “as smart as he can be with that dense skull of his,” you joked, which made jiwon giggle.

  she said, “did you go to college? i know oppa didn’t go to college so he could take care of me. . .”

  you reassured jiwon that jungkook only wanted the best for her and that he was happy right now. at that moment, you made out his figure approaching, walking with his horse by his side. you quickly stood up and you didn’t notice the way jiwon smiled in satisfaction when she watched you do so.

  “y/n? what are you doing here?” jungkook was puzzled at your appearance. 

  before you could answer, jiwon interjected. “can unnie watch me next time?” she was giddy, holding onto your arm. your heart warmed, knowing that jiwon took a liking to you.

  “jiwon, you know y/n is always busy,” jungkook scolded, pinching her nose. “sorry, i know she’s a handful.” he turned to you, apologetically.

  “hey!” jiwon piped, but he waved her off.

  you shook your head. “actually, i wouldn’t mind at all. i’d love to look after her whenever you need.”

  jungkook’s eyes softened. he cleared his throat and gestured for jiwon to come closer to him. he whispered something in her ear and handed over leo’s lead rope to her, presumably directing for her to take the horse behind the house. she rolled her eyes at him and did so.

  it was just the two of you now, standing underneath the beating sun. his cowboy hat protected his face, while you were covered partially by the house. still, he came closer and gently tugged you into the house, murmuring something about the heat wave that week.

  like the set-up of the farmhouse, there were several electric fans on at once inside. now that you were able to observe closer, you saw that jungkook’s house was a lot different than what you remembered. the furniture was different and was arranged differently. the old fireplace was closed up. his kitchen was no longer filled to the brim with snacks, as his mother used to keep it, and the only thing on his counter was a coffee machine. 

  “i wanted to change things up when they passed away, so i wouldn’t dwell so much,” he spoke, as if reading your mind. 

  there was only one picture that you recognized on the walls, being one of you and jungkook when you were approximately six years old. captured was the same living room, where the two of you were playing with power rangers figures. everything else was foreign, mostly recent pictures of jiwon. there was a single family portrait by the staircase, which depicted a toddler-aged jiwon and a teenage jungkook.

  you snapped out of it when you heard hoseok’s snores, still fast asleep a few feet away from you. jungkook snorted when he noticed. his voice remained at the same volume, unbothered.

  “why did you come by?” jungkook put his keys on the table next to the entryway. 

  you sighed. “i just wanted to apologize for the other night. i’ve been under a lot of pressure and my body was so exhausted that day, too.”

  he nodded slowly. “it’s okay. i was just. . .worried about you. jin told me he ran into you on your way home.”

  “yeah, i had a lot going on.” you brushed off imaginary dust off your tank top. “i didn’t mean to intrude, sorry.”

  jungkook assured you everything was fine and you did believe him in the moment. however, for the next week that followed, it appeared as though everything was but. you weren’t sure what affirmations you were chasing, but you were aware that things were off with him.

things were normal when you hung around everyone else, but jungkook still hadn’t returned to his usual routine with you of coming around the farm. he was lively when you conversed at the saloon or when you ran into each other in town, but it seemed like an invisible wall was erected between the two of you and you had no idea where it came from. you, being you, made it your mission to figure out why.

  xiv. the confession

  yoongi gave you a deadpan expression when you came to him for advice. you didn’t actually mean to come to him for advice, but as you happened to run into him at the hardware store, the sales clerk made a side comment that you couldn’t ignore.

  “where’s your boyfriend? don’t you two usually come in together?” she asked you, as you came in to check out new work boots. 

  you were perplexed when you realized she was talking about jungkook. for the previous weeks, you accompanied jungkook to the hardware store whenever he found a new excuse of a repair to help out with. 

  “he’s working today,” said a voice behind you and you turned around, seeing it was yoongi with insect repellant in his hand.

  the sales clerk seemed pleased with the answer. “oh, i see! i was just surprised, i’ve never seen you without him at your side!”

  “hi yoongi, nice seeing you,” you said, after giving the young lady a polite fake laugh.

  the two of you made small talk about the weather and walked out together. when you made it outside, you decided to be blunt.

  “i made jungkook upset, didn’t i?”

  he looked at you blankly. “no, he’s just under the impression that you’re overwhelmed with work and feels like he’s been ‘too much’” yoongi made air-quotes, as if repeating back jungkook’s exact words.

  “in what way?” you questioned.

  “i literally just said - oh, you guys are so clueless with each other.” yoongi squeezed his eyes shut. “bless your heart, honestly.”

even though a part of you felt it every time you opened your front door and saw jungkook, or even just seeing his name pop up on your phone, you remained silent. what were you to even say to that?

  he said, “oh, come on. even the little teenager at the hardware store can see that the two of you have feelings for each other.”

  sometime in between sharing meals together, sneaky glances when the other wasn’t looking and unassuming banter, there were undefined feelings that settled in the cracks. there was understanding and there was nostalgia. what you felt for jungkook you had yet to calculate. there was no other answer to what drove you towards him. 

  that same night, you decided it was time to put your foot down. you texted jungkook, confirming dinner with him and asked to meet you at the saloon. that was mistake number one. you don’t know why you thought it was going to be a good idea and realized where you went wrong when you entered, noticing that a few of your friends were lingering. it shouldn’t have surprised you, considering it was everyone’s typical hangout spot.

  you waved to hoseok and taehyung, declined jimin’s offer of a beer, and sat down at the very back of the bar. you hoped that this would be a sufficient sign for them to leave you be and then, jungkook walked in. you pretended to not notice and he walked over to your friends, greeting them and chatting with them briefly. namjoon then pointed towards you and you groaned, knowing that the boys were about to spectate your conversation.

  “hey, y/n. did you order yet?” jungkook smiled, taking the seat across from you. you saw a thumbs up from namjoon, away from everyone else’s line of vision, and you wanted to face palm.

  you shook your head. “how are you?” 

  today, he was dressed in his typical attire. all black, wearing dark denim and a wife beater tank. jungkook took off his hat when he walked in and placed it next to him. every outfit he wore seemed to expose his beautiful tattoos and it was always hard to not stare. you got a glimpse of his chest pieces a few times when he was working on the farm and the heat proved too aggressive for him, which prompted him to go shirtless. it was cute when he hurriedly covered up when you approached at these times, apparently too shy to be half-naked around you.  

  jungkook began talking about work and apologized for not coming around as much. the small talk made you even more nervous, having walked in and ready to lay down the law. the thoughts about him and what you thought were unresolved feelings between you and him were following you like bees to honey. despite this, you grew less confident as the mundane conversation dragged on. the two of you continued chatting and the subject eventually changed to the upcoming midsummer fair.

  “so, who are you taking to the fair? it’s become more of a ‘couple’ thing in recent years.” jungkook’s tone was breezy and casual, but you nearly choked on your water. 

  you tried to compose yourself, breathing as deeply as you could without making it obvious. “oh, really?”

this was your time to confess. the idea made you nauseous, as if you were a school girl. you took a breath. 

“yeah. you know. . .” jungkook trailed off, in thought. “taehyung seems to have taken a liking to you. you should ask him!” 

  did he just say taehyung? a plastic smile stretched across your lips, as you took a second to take it in. the enthusiasm on jungkook’s features confused you in a way you had never been confused before. you were reading everything wrong. the small touches, the big gestures. you couldn’t believe everything was all in your head. 

  “look, taehyung and i have gotten close since he moved to town. i’ll help you out,” jungkook declared. “you’re gonna need it, ugly.”

  “shut up!” you chuckled through your teeth, neither agreeing or arguing with him. you were still in a state of surprise.

  by the time the two of you began eating, it was just a few other patrons left in the saloon. a quiet thursday night, but your mind was screaming with just about a hundred different things and you could only smile and nod at jungkook, who was explaining taehyung’s ideal type. when jungkook got up to use the bathroom, you caught namjoon and hoseok’s eyes from the bar.

  when the former gave you a thumbs up, you could only respond with the most aggressive thumbs down possible.

  𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822@taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx @shellyyy177

[jedipoodoo]

i want your midnights (Tech x Reader)

I've had these in my drafts for a year and I'm just now getting to them with three hours until midnight. Happy New Year and happy season two, everyone!

Notes: No warnings, just fluff. New Year's Kiss! this one draws inspiration from Chinese New Year traditions.

You grumbled at the mess that covered the floor of the Marauder. You had just gotten the whole place cleaned, but the Bad Batch didn't seem to know any other way to party aside from explosions of confetti and food everywhere. At least Omega was enjoying herself. With how scarce food and free time were for the lot of you, how could you keep them from enjoying themselves?

Tech's helmet had been replaced with a party hat, and several streamers from Wrecker's homemade confetti cannons were draped across his shoulders.

"Here," You plucked some pieces of scrap paper from his hairline with a chuckle.

"Thank you, darling," he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, "Are you tired yet?"

"Grumpy, mostly," You admitted.

"A common symptom of fatigue," He nodded, "I can make them be quiet if you would prefer to get some rest?"

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his chest, "they're all having so much fun." Omega was picking up stray pieces of confetti from the floor, trying to convince Wrecker that there was enough to make another cannon. Hunter was counting down the seconds until midnight, and Echo was guarding the scanty snack station.

Tech bent down to whisper in your ear, "Would you like me to help you clean up after the festivities?"

As touching as it was, you shook your head, "You're not supposed to clean up for the first week after the new year begins, it gets rid of all the good luck the new year brings."

"Well, we could certainly use that," Tech agreed. He squinted at the navicomputer and Hunter's comm.

"Do you think you could keep them occupied for a moment for me?"

You raised one eyebrow at him. What was he thinking?

"Uh....Who wants to play truth or dare?" You asked.

"I DO!" Omega cried.

"I'm in!" Echo's chair spun towards you.

As you organized yourselves into a circle, Tech somehow wound up with his datapad in hand. He winked at you, and you asked Wrecker when he had last done the laundry.

Hunter was dared to do one of his knife tricks with Wrecker's vibroblade, and Echo was asked about his most embarrassing moment in training.

"Okay, truth or dare?" Omega asked you.

"Uh, dare."

Omega grinned, "I dare you to kiss Tech at midnight!"

Wrecker groaned, "That's not a real dare!"

You had no complaints, "Done. Who's next?"

Tech nudged you gently, "I apologize for interrupting, but it would appear that the time for you to complete your dare is imminent." He nodded to the navicomputer, which displayed the time of 23:59:30.

"Wow, that went by quick!" Hunter jumped to his feet.

"Wrecker! The cannons!" Omega climbed over you to get to the last two confetti cannons.

"Make this one count, kid!" Wrecker grinned.

You sighed to yourself, but let Tech pull you to your feet.

"You ready?" you asked.

"For you? I'm never ready," Tech sighed happily, cradling your cheek in his hand.

Together, you counted down to the new year with the others. Omega and Wrecker sprayed you and Tech with the confetti as you kissed. You laughed against his lips, and Tech dipped you into the kiss.

"Well, Happy new year," you said to the others.

"Happy New Year!" Wrecker whooped.

Echo grinned, "Happy New Year."

"Okay Omega, we had a deal. Time for bed now," Hunter said.

"Okay," She sighed, trudging through the trails of confetti.

Wrecker yawned and stretched before excusing himself to the bunks to rest. Echo agreed, and finished off his bottle of cider before joining the others.

"I should turn in too," you stretched your aching limbs, but Tech was doing something with his datapad. The navicomputer screen glitched, then displayed a new time. 23:32:03.

"What?" You blinked.

Tech grinned and set aside his datapad, "I knew they wouldn't go to bed unless it were after midnight, so I just had to make it look that way. Now we have time to clean before the new year."

You threw your arms around your boyfriend, covering his face in kisses. Before he could respond, you had already grabbed the trash bag and begun picking up the trash. Tech laughed to himself, then carefully stored the food and snacks away for safekeeping.

All signs of New Year's Celebrating had been cleaned away with minutes to spare. The Marauder was clean once more, and you could finally relax, sinking into the chair at the navicomputer.

"Feeling better?" Tech asked, coming to stand by the chair.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, "Much better. Thank you so much."

The navicomputer chimed again, displaying digital fireworks as you officially reached midnight. There were no raucous cheers, no confetti cannons this time, just you and your lover.

"You know, you still have to complete the dare that Omega gave you," Tech said, pulling you to your feet.

"I suppose I do," You giggled.

Tech's lips met yours in a gentle and chaste kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, and yours wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Thank you, Tech," You murmured again. He smiled softly at you.

"Happy New Year, darling."

"Happy New Year, Tech."

[baby--b4t]

hey pookster i’m just leaving this here because I know you’d do justice if you ever made it into a minific :3

kaveh absolutely LOVES horror/creepy things, especially when regressed, but alhaitham can’t do it. like CANNOT.

sincerely, 🐠fishie anon :3

OH MY GODS ANON YOURE SAVING MY WRITERS BLOCK RN (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ʃƪ) im gonna try and write a quick minific in hopes that itll make me wanna post more and work on my bots. ALSO TY FOR THINKING SO HIGHLY OF ME- i feel like my writing is mid but ill try my best for this silly idea (its super late as of replying to this so sorry if its a bit jumbled or doesnt make sense-)

(fic under cut)

Kaveh was supposed to be in bed hours ago. 5 hours and 38 minutes, to be persice. Alhaitham had been counting. He did everything he though would work to get Kaveh to finally lay down, close his eyes, and rest, but nothing was working. Warm bottle, bedtime stories (he had read 7 different stories at this point), and even trying different stuffed animals and pajamas. Nothing. Alhaitham was exhausted.

“Hayi? Do da tree birdies sleep? Wha’ about… Oh! Wha’ about da creepy crawlies in da kitchen?” Kaveh had been asking nonsense questions like these all night, part of the reason he was still awake at nearly 4 in the morning.

“I dont know, Kaveh. What I do know-… Wait, whats in the kitchen?” Alhaitham began to answer before he registered what kaveh had said. He sat up in the bed a little bit and looked down at Kaveh. “What did you just say is in the kitchen?”

“Da creepy crawlies!” Kaveh excitedly exclaimed, a wide smile forming behind his pacifier. “Dey have 6 leg, 3 eye- BIG eyes, and are really teeny tiny. Dey walk around in da dark and eat da bread! Dats why it has all da holes.” Kaveh started giggling, his tiredness clearly showing in his speech.

Alhaitham felt puzzeled. More than when he was trying to figure out why Kaveh wasnt sleeping yet. But what was getting to him the most was the though of some spider-like creatures crawling around in his food while he didnt look. He shuddered, the thought of bugs in general making him feel gross. He rubbed up and down his arms for a moment, trying to get rid of his goosebumps, before pressing further into this. Surely it was Kaveh just being silly… Right?

“How do you know this? Who told you about these… ‘Creepy crawlers’?” Alhaitham asked as he tried to fight the tiredness in his mind. This whole talk took a turn that was not helping his already fatigued state of mind.

“Dey told me! I got mad ‘cause my sandwich had holes, and I asked and dey told me.” Kaveh explained trough slurred giggles and mumbles. “Dey very small, so is easy to make holes. I scolded dem like you always do for da holes…” The more Kaveh explained, the more Alhaitham imagined a ton of ant-sized abominations crawling around their pantry. He shook his head and tried not to gag.

“Kaveh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the ‘creepy crawlers’ arent real. You probably dreamt about them at some point.” Alhaitham tried to explain to Kaveh, but Kaveh didnt seem to want to believe it.

“What?!” He sat up in the bed with Alhaitham, jaw dropping and his pacifier almost falling out. “But.. But dat were so cute-“ He felt himself tearing up over the fact that the little creatures he thought were so adorable werent actually real. Alhaitham sighed, realizing that now he had to deal with a meltdown.

“How about you go to sleep so you can dream about them? Does that sound like a good idea?” He suggested as he tried to coax Kaveh into laying down again. The poor baby was so tired at this point he didnt realize that Alhaitham was moving him. It did seem to stop his oncoming waterworks, however.

Kaveh gave a small nod and snuggled back up with Alhaitham. It seemed like as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was in a deep sleep. That baffled Alhaitham. How in the world would Kaveh be so willing to dream about thousands- No, millions of little spiders in his food? If Alhaitham saw them, he would already have a match in hand to burn the house down.

However, Kavehs great big imagination never failed to impress Alhaitham. He just seemed to show it so much more whenever he regressed. A soft sigh came from Alhaitham, just accepting it. His little Kaveh would just have that sort of creepy imagination and he couldnt stop it… But he would still be checking the entire house for bugs when they woke up. No ‘creepy crawlers’ get to live rent free.

[frickinsleepdeprived]

Lemme get a fuckin uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh training hcs for reader n hashiras like if reader was a new hashira n they were bein trained

You fuckin uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh got it LOL hope you enjoy!

......

Muichiro:

The second you became his tsuguko, he's been nothing but hard on you when it came to hand to hand combat

Like, dude might be a kid but he knows his shit. How else did he become a hashira after two months of being a demon slayer?

Any who, he actually offers constructive criticism, albeit it might come off a little harsh

But you quickly learned that this:

"Hey, panini head, you're supposed to angle your attack like this. Not this."

Actually is the way that he talks... yes, I headcanon that Muichiro is a Gordon Ramsey incarnate when it comes to advice, no I won't elaborate-

He doesn't hold back, not even for you

Like have you seen the way he fights?

Ya boi doesn't hold any mercy for battle

Overall, very good person to train under but be prepared to have to translate everything he says. His training isn't for the feign of heart

...

Mitsuri:

Ol' girl is so fucking supportive, which makes sense since her trainer was Rengoku

She allows breaks when you need it, especially if you're particularly fatigued that day

However, like her other comrades, she won't hold back. Just to simulate what a real battle feels like

L o a d s of praise! But often gives constructive criticism when it's needed

"Wow! That was great, your form is perfect! But I have to say, you could probably focus on breathing just a tad more so that way you don't pass out in battle. Staying alive is important you know!"

Comes off like a big sister, definitely very uplifting and inspiring

Overall, if you become her tsuguko she will absolutely dote on you all the while giving you the skills to become a great hashira

...

Obanai:

He had to learn really quick how to be nice

But he's a good trainer nonetheless, his criticisms might come off a little harsh, like Muichiro

Only this time he means for it to come off as rude, unlike Muichiro who doesn't know he's doing it

"Oi, your form sucks. Do it this way instead."

Yeeeaaaahhhhhh he's had multiple talks from the other hashira even from Ubuyashiki about treating you right

"So what're you saying? Treat them like my significant other?"

"Yeah basically, just without all the romance" - Tengen

But you never really minded his harsh demeanor in the first place, it helps you practice your bearings

When you guys are training together, it's no holds bard, full on battle simulation.

As in you actually have to try and kill him until he taps out

"OKAY TIME TIME JESUS CHRIST (Y/N)-"

The amount of times you've been to the butterfly mansion with Obanai

Shinobu is livid

Overall, just know that when you're training with Obanai, you'll have lots of scars from training alone. And you better have a very good perception of his criticism because he will be rude no matter what, even in his praise.

...

Sanemi:

Mans can get bloodlusted very quickly, so you have to be careful what you challenge him to as his tsuguko

Like with Obanai, he will push you to the point where you might have to do some serious harm to satisfy him in training

"Really? That's all you got? Hit me with something stronger!"

His praise is a lot like Mitsuri's, but still a little critical with his suggestions

"Look, you're doing fantastic. However you might want to consider, oh I don't know, actually hitting your target next time? Ya know, like you're supposed to do."

Oftentimes you're the one that has to stop the training session because something is about to give out. Usually it's your legs from all the running and jumping

He's very brotherly though, usually he'd bring you tea or some food after training and discuss what you could do better or what you did well in

And those are moments that let you see his true colors, just a caring dude who puts up a tough front

Overall, very pushy and enthusiastic about your training, but you can't help but see him as a great friend and you couldn't be happier to be training under him

...

Gyomei:

Gyomei is the polar opposite of you

He's calm, you're not LOL

Oftentimes you guys aren't even training, you're meditating. Mainly to keep your hot head out of your thoughts and focused on the task at hand

Like the other hashira, he won't hold back. But he will definitely be gentler with you if you are considerably smaller than him in stature

His criticisms are very gentle, almost to the point of being passive. But the message gets across nonetheless

"You did amazing, however, your technique could use a little work... how about we focus on that tomorrow?"

Definitely the fatherly type, always checking in on you before and after training and bringing you whatever you need

He sees you has his responsibility since you're under his training

Overall, very good to train under, but just be prepared to work hard regardless

...

Shinobu:

Very gentle, but also a little terrifying

The only reason why is that although she's very motherly and doting, she's secretly very bloodlusted (Giyuu would know-)

However, that doesn't take away from her very very motherly nature. She always makes sure you're fit enough for battle or training

If you're injured, be prepared to be on bed rest for at least three days, even if it's a minor cut or scrape

"You're injured, you're not doing anything"

"But, Master Kocho I'm fine I promise-"

"No. Rest, now. Come back to training in three days."

Shinobu will provide all of the advice you need, be it for training or otherwise

She's definitely not going to hold back though, she'll try and kill you if it means getting the proper training in

"Great job (Y/N)! Though... you do look a little banged up, sorry!"

Yeah definitely gets carried away with it

But overall she does a great job and frankly there's no one else you'd trust to train you

...

Giyuu:

You're concerned

The water hashira obviously knows what he's doing, but he hasn't had anyone under his training

So he's a little intimidated by the fact that he has someone else under his training, but that doesn't necessarily stop him

He offers a lot of room for you to work after throwing the basics at you, always making sure to correct and give pointers where it's needed

"Here, this is what I mean... does that make it a little more clear?"

A little condecending like Muichro but very uplifting like Mitsuri

His cynicism can worry you sometimes but you quickly realized that's just the way he is

However he does open up a little more, just to encourage you to be open about yourself and what you need from him

He's a lot like an older brother, definitely will take care of you during training

But like all the other hashiras, he doesn't hold back, but he's not like Obanai or Shinobu when it comes to the intensity

Overall, great person to have under their wing

...

Rengoku:

So where do we start? Lol

Praise, and lots of it

"Excellent work (Y/N)!"

But will definitely point out what you need work on

"Your sword stance is perfect, but you do need to work on your aim a bit, nevertheless though you're still doing a fantastic job as always my tsuguko."

HEAD PATS FOR DAYS-

This man makes you feel appreciated and like your efforts are never in vain

He offers his council when you need it, allowing you to talk about anything and everything on your mind

More of a mentor if anything, he's always got something positive to say about almost any situation

Overall super cool to train with, Mitsuri would know, and now you will too!

...

Tengen:

Mans isn't really concerned about form and skill

He's concerned about your flashiness on the battlefield LMAO

Okay but in all honesty, he's a former shinobi ninja and a hashira now

Need I say more?

You're definitely in good hands, his wives would more than likely help out too

He will give you accessories for your uniform that are completely impractical but hey at least they look good

"Master Uzui do I really need to wear this?"

"Yes, because I refuse to let you go into battle looking so plain and boring."

Aside from all of this though, he's very very helpful and offers a lot of advice even when it's not needed

"Okay so a couple of things; sword form is great, technique is phenomenal, however you gotta breathe (Y/N). Can't have you dying out there."

Like his other hashira comrades, he won't hold back but he's considerably more gentle only because he's knows his strength

Oh yeah and he gives hugs, like lots and lots of hugs

He just wants to make sure you're okay after every training session, not to mention now that you're his tsugoku he cares about you like a lot

Overall, he'll dote on you like he does with his wives but be prepared to be worked to the bone

...

This took so much brainpower now my head is mush lol but I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you want to see next!

[passerine-writes]

Eraserhead x Fem!Reader - Part 3

Title: Bindings Genre: Fluff Warnings: Reader and Aizawa are both 30-31, reader has a child cause Dadzawa helps my daddy issues, not really a warning but this chapter is basically a bunch of little one shots, season 5 spoilers, mange spoilers Word Count: 6585

Quirk: Sun Manipulation - User can manipulate the suns energy and light as long as it is out, clouds provide a hindrance to the usage but does not cancel it.

Drawbacks - Overuse can lead to fatigue, sunburn exceeding up to third degree burns and irritation. Cannot be used during nighttime.

Shouta and I had been living together for about a month now and honestly, everything has been bliss. We talked it over and agreed that I would work as a manager at the bakery on the weekends, and during the week I would home school the girls until they were ready to attend a public school.

"Girls! Time for lunch!" The two tiny humans came padding over to the kitchen, followed by Neko. They giggled as they tumbled into the kitchen and crawled up into their chairs. "So, what have we learned so far today?" I teasingly asked as I started making their sandwiches and cutting up apple slices. Eri's eyes went wide at the sight of her favorite fruit.

"Adding one digit numbers to other one digit numbers can, can-" Eri started but Hanako jumped in excitedly.

"-Can make two digit numbers!" I rubbed both of their heads encouragingly with a gentle smile on my features.

"Good job, girls! But it's time to eat up!" They quickly dug into their food but my attention was drawn away but a certain furry friend nuzzling against my ankle. "I would never forget about lunch time for you Neko." I took a scoop of food out of his bag and dumped it into his bowl, the animal purring against my leg before digging in. I lovingly watched most of my little family as they chowed down in contentment. "Hey, girls? What do you say we visit Dad at work tomorrow for lunch?" Their eyes widen before they nodded quickly. "Alright, alright, but that means we have to finish our studies today alright?"

"Okay, Mama!" Hanako chirped before devouring another bite of her sandwich.

The next day came soon enough and I quickly got the girls ready for the short drive to U.A. Getting through security was interesting, clearly not expecting to see Eri with me or when I announced I was Eraser Head's girlfriend but they let us in shortly after.

"Okay, girls. Make sure you hold my hands okay?" They nodded and squeezed my hands tighter in confirmation. "Eri, guess who else you get to see today?" Her head tilted to the side in thought before she figured it out.

"Deku and Lemillion!" Her eyes were twinkling in joy at the revelation.

"Mhm! Deku should be in class with Dad and I'm sure he can call down Lemillion to see you too!" She smiled brightly at my statement and started trying to get us to move faster.

Soon enough we were in front of a giant door marked 1A. Both of my girls looked up at me excitedly and I gestured for them to knock. One of each of their tiny fists produced multiple tiny knocks on the large door. The class inside erupted in questions before a sleepy voice told us to come in. I released both of their hands and opened the door, allowing them to run full speed and tackle their father into a hug.

"Eri!" A students voice called.

That must be Deku.

"Girls? What are you doing here?" He looked up at me and smiled lightly, giving the girls one last squeeze before allowing Eri to greet Midoriya.

"Hi, Deku!" I watched as she hugged Deku tightly before stepping back a bit. Hanako hid a bit behind Shouta from the sight of so many people. I stood next to my boyfriend and placed a gentle hand on Hanako's head.

"The girls and I figured we would bring you lunch today, plus Eri really wanted to see Midoriya and uh, Mirio, I think that's what his name was." He smiled lightly and refused to give any PDA, which I understood, he had to be professional in front of his class.

"Thank you, I'll call Mirio down for the start of his lunch real quick." I nodded and Hanako stepped further behind me as Eraser walked to his desk and grabbed the phone.

"Hey kiddo!" A student with bright blond hair that had a black lightning streak in it crouched down in front of Hanako.

"Say 'hi' Hanako." A muffled 'hi' came from her lips as she gripped my pants tighter.

"Hanako? That's such a cool name! My names Kaminari Denki! Hey, do you want to see something cool?" She looked up at me for approval, to which I gently nodded my head. She nodded hers as well and we watched in amazement as he used his quirk to shoot out glittering tinges of what appeared to be electricity. They floated around in the air and landed around the ground and in his hair like pollen. Hana's eyes widened in pure awe as she watched him, the sparkling flecks reflecting in her (e/c) orbs.

"Pretty." She mumbled, dazed at the sight of the glittering specks in front of us. The bell chimed and she thanked Kaminari before everyone left except for our family and Midoriya. A soft but sturdy knock sounded on the door.

"Mr. Aizawa? You wanted to see me sir?" A blond haired student, bordering on Shouta's height, came in. A smile stretching across his face as he saw one of my daughters. "Eri! I've missed you! How have you been!?" He knelt down and gave my daughter with one horn a hug.

——————

The girls met Kota and the Wild Wild Pussy Cats today and needless to say, it was an adventure. Aside from the girls almost crying from either Kota being too abrasive or saying he thinks Mirko was stupid, they ran around, played miscellaneous games and watched a movie. Granted they made the poor boy sit through Ponyo after they both have watched it loads of times, he didn't want to admit he thought it was good. They were sad to see him go however Mandalay ended up thanking me for the play date.

"Did you have fun girls?" Sho asked from behind me with a hand on my waist just resting there. They both nodded and smiled enthusiastically. "I'm glad, but now it's time to clean up and get ready for bed, okay?" They both nodded and took off to start cleaning. Once out of sight, Shouta pulled me back into his chest with the hand on my waist and peppered a few light kisses on my neck and the side of my face, his little bits of stubble tickling me and causing me to laugh.

"We should go on another coffee date sometime soon. Get out for the day." His arms wrapped securely around my stomach, massaging my sides.

"Yes, please. I love these girls but we need adult time." He hummed in agreement before pressing a final kiss to the nape of my neck.

This man will be the death of me.

——————

Hanako and Kana, the receptionists daughter from the police station, went to the park today. Hikari, the receptionist, was supervising today so I figured everything would be alright. Eri, Shouta and I spent this Saturday making cookies and decorating them. We were just about done when Hanako came running in crying, hands cracking and smoking. Eri looked at me in concern with wide eyes already starting to water. I bent down to her height and grabbed her tiny hand in mine, rubbing soothing circles on them.

"Eri, can you do me a huge favor?" She nodded her head and kept glancing back at Hanako who was now being held by Shouta. "Can you go grab Hanako's bunny stuffy off of her bed for her?" She nodded again and I quickly placed a kiss on her forehead before she went waddling off to their shared bedroom. I darted over to my daughter and boyfriend, brushing the stray hairs out of her eyes. The (e/c) orbs red and puffy with an extra shine from tears. "My love, what happened?" She sniffled as she searched for the right words. Eri came back out hesitantly holding her sisters bunny stuffy. She slowly walked up the Hana and silently held it up to her. The brunette slowly and graciously grabbed it before reaching forward and giving Eri and quick hug. The four of us moved to the couch, Eri on my lap and Hanako on Shouta's.

"I saw people from school and they said mean things. They kept trying t-to tell me I didn't have a Dad! And then they laughed at me when I said I did! They kept calling me mean names when I said I had a Dad now and then they started trying to be mean to Kana!" I looked at Shouta, trying to have a silent conversation of what to do. He simply hugged her a little closer and left the talking to me.

"Okay girls, I think, it's time we have a big kid conversation, okay?" Hanako rubbed her eyes again and Eri looked at me terrified. "Hana, your Dad and I are so, so proud of you for telling us. Sometimes people are going to be mean, for no reason and it hurts a lot, yeah?" They both nodded their heads. "But I can pinky promise you both, it doesn't matter if you didn't have a mom or a dad or both until now. The good thing is, you both have them now and that's okay. That's never, ever going to change right?" I looked at both girls, who nodded in confirmation. Eri was a little more hesitant but I couldn't blame her after what happened. "Girls, your dad and I love you, so so much. That's never going to change. And no matter what, you both can talk to us about anything." My boyfriend hummed in agreement and placed a kiss on top of Hana's head. Our daughter turned in his lap and wrapped her arms around him.

"I love you, Dad." My heart overfilled with joy, the look on Shouta's face was purely ecstatic, this was the first time she said that to him. He squeezed her back with equal force.

"I love you too, princess."

"Mama?" Eri looked up at me in confusion.

"Yes, my love?" She wrung her fingers in her lap before looking at all of us.

"What's love?" I looked to Shouta perplexed. How do you explain that to a child who is almost eight?

"Well, Eri. There's a lot of ways to explain it. It can be someone you care about a lot and always want to keep safe and take care of. Uh, how do you feel towards Neko?" She furrowed her little eyebrows before popping up with a bit of understanding.

"I think he's warm! And fluffy and safe! And I always want to hold him and make sure he's okay!"

"Good job sweetheart." I continued. "That's a form of love. For people, like your sister, or your parents or even friends you make down the road-"

"Like Deku and Lemillion?" I laughed lightly at her question.

"Yes, like Deku and Lemillion. And there's a different form of love that you won't experience until you're much older."

"Like you and Dad?" Hanako asked excitedly from his lap. I blushed brightly and Sho hid his smile behind Hana's head.

"Mhm. And when you get bigger and you think you start feeling that, then we can explain more about that then."

"But.. what if you love one of us more than the other?"

"Okay girls, I think it's time for a weekend lesson." I've never seen two kids happier about school, they jumped up and ran to the table. I stood up and brought over four tall candles and a lighter. Shouta stood behind me with an arm around my waist. "Alright," I lit one candle, "do you girls remember what a metaphor is?" They both nodded excitedly.

"A metaphor is when you compare two things with out using like or as cause that would make it a simile!" The brunette stated happily.

"And it's a symbol for something!" Eri continued, her apple red eyes sparkling.

"Good job, girls! Okay so, the candles represent you, and the flame represents my love for you. Okay now push your candles next to each other, reallll close, all of you." The ravenette sighed but did it. I lifted up my lit candle and held it on the wicks of all three, after a few moments all four were lit evenly. I placed the candles in front of each of them. "Okay do either of you remember what equal means?"

"The same?" Eri asked quietly.

"Exactly! And, all of the candles are burning equally. So what do you think that means?"

"That you.. love all of us equally?" Eri's voice was quiet, timid in fear of getting the answer wrong.

"You're 100 percent right. I love all of you equally, and nothing will ever change that. Hanako, do you know what else it could mean?" She sat there in confusion as she thought about it.

"That... that we all love each other the same?"

"Exactly Hanako." Shouta said from behind me to which she smiled brightly. Eri's face faltered for a second before she looked determined and happy.

"I think I love you guys." My heart softened at Eri's announcement, I couldn't be happier with my family.

——————

I had a feeling something would happen if I left the girls home alone with Shouta, but definitely not this. I didn't expect to see the girls rolling across the living room in matching sleeping bags, with their father in his classic yellow one. Eri's was red and Hanako's was pink, I stopped dead in my tracks, not expecting him to get them those. Plus everyone was wearing a matching onesie. Everyone stopped and looked at me as I looked at them.

"Are we having a nap day or something?" Everyone looked around and simultaneously nodded.

"But Mama! You don't have one!" I smiled and walked over to my lover.

"It's okay, Dad and I share his sleeping bag a ton! So scoot over and make room Sho, it's nap day!" The girls giggled abruptly.

"But Mama!" Eri started and started rolling towards me before trying to inch forwards like a work.

"You have to put your onesie on! Dad got you one too!" Hanako announced from her curled up sleeping bag.

"He did?" I looked over at Sho and he sheepishly nodded. "Thank you, love. I'll go put it on." I walked to our room and saw a bag on my bed with a cat onesie in it, identical to the other three everyone was wearing.

When I came back down wearing the article of clothing, I saw the girls rolling around in the living room. Giggles erupting from deep in their hearts as they tried to chase after each other.

"Girls? How about we watch a movie?" They looked at each other and nodded ferociously. "Okay, Sho, scoot over we're sharing." Shouta unzipped his sleeping bag and I sat on his lap before he zipped us both in. Eri and Hanako sat on each side of us in their sleeping bags before Eri claimed the remote for the day and ultimately putting on Ponyo.

——————

A part of my heart broke watching Shouta come home looking so broken and defeated. His eyes were red, tear streaks left on his cheeks. I'm used to Hanako coming home crying or upset, having a bad day or shutting down. It's out of the ordinary for Sho. The girls were with my sister at the moment, seeing as she only lived down the block we figured it would be alright.

"Sho? Baby? What happened?" I rushed over to him and cupped his face in my hands.

We stared into each other's eyes for a brief moment, having our own silent conversation before his arms dropped to my waist and his head to my shoulder. I gingerly wrapped my arms across his shoulders and worked on just simply holding him, allowing him to cry and process whatever he needed. His arms were tight around my waist and my neck and shoulder were now soaked.

"What happened, Sho?" He sniffled and lifted his head, his arms loosening and drooping a bit. My hands moved back to his face, thumbs wiping away his fresh tears. The ravenette avoiding eye contact and rather staring at the floor.

"Mic and I, we're fairly certain the league got Shirakumo all those years ago and turned him into the warp villain, Kurogiri. Shirakumo was-"

"I remember him, he was always so full of light." Shouta sadly laughed and nodded.

"The commission is pretty sure that before his funeral, the League took his body and experimented on him to make him into Kurogiri, the first Nomu. Tsukauchi just had Mic and I interrogate him and we saw.. something before the purple mist." My stomach dropped and my heart stilled for a second.

"It wasn't your fault. None of it."

"I kno-"

"No you don't, you won't say that you blame yourself but I see that look in your eyes. This is not your fault, Shouta. I promise you that. We were still in school when that accident happened, you didn't make the rubble fall on him, you didn't make them do experiments on him, nothing like that. You were one of his best friends and I know if he were here he would be calling you an idiot." He sniffled and nodded, not breaking the silence. "Go take a shower, the girls are going to be home soon and then you three can take a nap, okay?"

"What about you?"

"I took a nap earlier, while you three are asleep I'm going to start on dinner. So go clean up." He nodded and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead before walking away with slumped shoulders.

As soon as I heard the water start, Eri and Hanako walked in with bright smiles. Bouncing with joy after spending time with their aunt.

"Hi girls, did you have fun with Auntie?" They smiled brightly and nodded their tiny heads rapidly. "I'm glad, so how about, while your Dad is in the shower, you two tell me about the fun time at auntie's while I start on dinner. Then, you two can have sleeping bag time with Dad before dinner." They giggled and climbed into their chairs telling me about their day.

——————

I sat in shock as I watched Shouta get down on one knee. It was our two year anniversary since we started going to get coffee together as we sat in our regular coffee shop. That's when I spotted a certain loud blond holding a camera. My heart skipped a beat as anxiety and joy filled me.

"Keep recording." I mouthed the Yamada, his hair falling down his shoulders for once.

"Will you marry me?" I frantically nodded and pulled him in for a kiss. He quickly reciprocated and smiled into it.

"I have something for you too." He shot me a confused look as we both stood up, I ruffled through my bag and finally found what I was looking for. A card with a few pictures inside. "Read it out loud."

"I didn't think a Dad of two was enough.." He opened the card and I already saw tears well in his eyes. "Wait you're-" I nodded my head again.

"Keep reading!" A tear slid down his cheek with a bright smile.

"..So how about a Dad of three?" His eyes scanned over the ultrasound pictures from just a few days ago, showing the tiny human chilling in there. Shouta dropped to his knees and gently held my stomach as though I would break under the pressure of a feather. His warm lips placed a kiss on top of my belly button as he stared at me in adoration "We're having another baby?" I nodded and pulled him up, my hands delicately cupping his face.

"We're having another baby." He pressed his lips to mine, both of us still smiling into the action of affection.

——————

I sat in the hospital room with Mic, my hands around one of my fiancés as we waited for him to wake up. Mic sniffled as he tried his hardest to stop crying. The girls sat on my lap sleeping, after having cried themselves to sleep. Mic tried his hardest to be a 'fun uncle' but in his state, he couldn't cheer them up no matter how hard he tried. I watched as his uncovered eye flittered open, his onyx orb meeting my own (e/c) ones. I quickly started to cry again, clutching onto his hand a little tighter as he held my hand in turn. I lightly shook the girls awake, showing them that Shouta was truly awake now. Eri and Hanako quickly latched onto their fathers arm, happily announcing how they're glad he's awake and okay. I saw a tear drip down his cheek as he brought his free hand over to ruffle each head of hair on the two.

——————

Recovery proved hard for him, he adjusted to his prosthetic rather quickly but he still had his mishaps. We sat on the couch and Hanako poked his metal addition.

"Did you feel that?" Shouta looked at her confused until he saw her poke it again.

"Not at all. If you touch my metal leg I don't feel it." His voice was laced with drowsiness as he spoke, sleep now being a rare accommodation.

"Why's that?" Shouta sat up and brought his horned daughter onto his left leg while Hanako took a seat in my lap.

"Eri, do you remember when you brought back Lemillion's power?" The girl nodded happily at the memory. "Well, after that I had to go stop some bad guys. One of them hurt me a little and my leg had to go away. So now, I have to wear this thing, called a prosthetic, so I can walk around." Hanako's eyebrows furrowed together as she tried to pronounce one of the words.

"P-Prottestic? Why did your leg have to leave though?" Shouta kissed both girls on the head and let out a soft breath.

"I wasn't ready to leave either of you or your mom yet. So my leg said goodbye so I could stay with you all. I chose to. So neither of you feel bad or like it's your fault. Okay?" Both girls nodded and leaned over to hug their dad.

"What about your eye? Did he give you the new ouchie too?" Shouta nodded at Hanako's question.

"He did. My eye got really hurt and if it stayed I would've been hurt more." Hanako fiddled with her fingers before talking again.

"Does your boo boo leg hurt at all?" Shouta shrugged at Hana's question.

"Sometimes." Hanako jumped out of my lap and grabbed Eri's hand, the two of the running down the hall. The two came back with a brand new box of hero bandaids, and sat in front of his prosthetic. Quickly, I took out my phone and started videoing the endeavor.

"This is gonna take a lot of bandaids." I lightly laughed at Hanako's words and watched with delight as her and Eri started placing bandaid after bandaid on his metallic limb. Shouta sat and endured it, but I saw him fighting a smile on his face.

In the end, they went through the entire box and very few pieces of the original metal was left untouched. Hanako whispered something to Eri and handed her the last bandaid. She cautiously climbed on the couch and placed the final one on his eye patch, going vertically to follow the new scar. With her wobbly legs standing on the couch cushions, she leaned over and placed a kiss on his missing eye. Eri hopped down and Hanako followed suit, placing a kiss on the bandaid until our you her daughter turned to me.

"Mama's turn! She needs to give you a magic kiss!" The slightest tinge of pink graced his face before I pressed a soft, long kiss to his black eye patch.

"Y/N, don't send that to Mic." I smiled widely and showed him my screen.

"It's a little too late for that." My fiancé flopped forward and started tickling me, the girls following suit, the two stopping as they stared at me. "Whats wrong girls?" Eri cocked her head to the side before hesitantly speaking.

"Why's your tummy round?" Shouta looked at me and sat up, hands held up in surrender and giving me the floor.

"Well, in a few months you two are going to have a baby brother or baby sister." Their eyes went wider then before and they both shakily touched my stomach.

"How'd the baby get in there?" I looked at Shouta and gave him the floor in turn, the girls turned to him questioningly, waiting for the answer.

——————

Shouta and I sat in the delivery room with our newest daughter laying on my chest. As much as he wanted a son, he was happy to have another daughter. The girls waited outside with Present Mic, who we decided to make the god father of sorts. There were some complications so I had to have an emergency c-section but Shouta held my hand through it all.

"Girls, come say hello to your new baby sister." My voice was quiet as I beckoned the two over. They both cautiously rubbed their new sisters arm. "Her name is Aizawa Nemuri Hikari." Mic started tearing up on the side at the reveal of her name, clearing missing his late friend and Sho placed a hand on his shoulder to try and comfort the blond.

"Mama, why's Uncle Mic sad?" My now seven year old daughter asked.

"Well honey, he lost a close friend who's name was Nemuri. When you're older we'll take you to meet her." She nodded and slowly made her way over the to sound hero. Her tiny arms wrapped around his legs and he tried not to cry harder.

"Was she nice?" He nodded and rubbed her head as she looked up at him.

"The nicest." She smiled and hugged him tighter, his tears finally falling.

"Mic?" He turned towards me. "Would you like to hold her?" This time, happy tears fell and he rushed over to my side of the bed, delicately lifting her from my arms.

Shouta pulled up a chair and sat beside me, Hanako climbed onto his lap while Eri wiggled onto the hospital bed with me.

——————

I stood beside my father, waiting for our moment to walk down. His doctors gave him permission to leave the hospital for my wedding. So there I stood in a white gown, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand and my fathers arm in the other. Our daughters stood front and center beside Shouta, Mic standing as his best man and holding Hikari. My sister stood as my maid of honor, holding a hand of our two other daughters. Shouta's hair was pulled back in a half up, half down style, fully revealing his face. His eye started to water as he watched me come down the aisle. There wasn't a large sum of people but we didn't need that. His warm hands gently held mine as he stared at me with so much love I felt as though I could melt.

"Today, I'm proudly bringing together two lovely people." I smiled softly at Principal Nezu. "After many years, these two souls found their way back to each other after high school. They have found each other and supported each other through solemn times, and have continued to love each other through it. Everyone has their own definition of love. Before we start the ceremony, if anyone has any objections please speak now or forever hold your piece." It was pin drop silent, nobody breathed a sound. "Y/N, would you like to say your vows?"

"You are my rock. A few years ago, I thought I would stay single and raise Hanako on my own with the support of my sister. I didn't want to let anyone else in, but you managed to work your way into my heart before I could even notice. In the last three years, I have grown so much beside you and because of you. You have made me a better woman, a better mother and overall, someone who feels worthy of your love. You have never failed to make me feel safe and protected. I never would have expected us to have had a family of three kids and a fur baby. But I am honored and beyond happy we did. I love you, Aizawa Shouta." He ducked his head down and his grip tightened a little on my hands.

"Eraserhead, would you now like to say your vows?" He looked up again, the gentlest of smiles on his face as he looked into my eyes.

"Y/N. I couldn't ask more of you and yet I asked you to marry me. Most people in your position wouldn't stick around, but you did. You stuck around through my hero work, my flaws, my odd grading hours, losing my leg and half of my sight and my bizarre sleeping hours. You accepted me as I came. You never judged or lectured me but simply stayed by my side. You gave me the honor and privilege of being a father to three beautiful girls and a cat. You are the love of my life and I will never stop loving you." Tears now welled in my eyes as he spoke to me.

"Aizawa Shouta, do take L/N Y/N to be your wife? To love and cherish her, trust and commit to her through the good and bad times, sickness and in health and whatever life may throw in your path?"

"I do." His gruff voice sent butterflies amok in my stomach.

"And do you, L/N take Aizawa Shouta as your husband? To love and cherish him, trust and commit to him through the good and bad times, sickness and in health and whatever life may toss in your path?" I nodded and smiled brightly.

"I do."

"Y/N, while placing this marriage band on Shouta's finger, please repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed." I grabbed his left hand gently, holding the wedding band between us.

"With this ring, I thee wed." A tear dripped down my face, my voice just above a whisper as I slid it on his finger.

"Shouta, please do the same."

"With this ring, I thee wed." He delicately slid the wedding ring on my finger and placed a kiss to my knuckles.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss the bride." Shouta's hands grabbed onto my waist before I could even register the words that were said.

His lips were quickly placed onto mine. One of my hands cupped his face and the other rested on his shoulder as I tried to bring him closer. Our lips quickly melded, moving in harmony as they moved smoothly with one another. Cheers erupted from the crowd, the two of us smiling into the kiss.

"And now a toast from the best man and maid of honor." Shouta and I sat at our table with the girls as the two took the stage.

"Shouta, I could spend hours talking about all the stuff we did as teenagers and sharing embarrassing stories to your wife and kids, but I'll refrain. Instead, I want to talk about one memory in particular. The day you became my friend. The teacher sat us near each other since you were so quiet and I was loud, she figured it would cancel us out like your quirk to others. Your hair was shorter and you didn't have that sweet piece of metal. And I tried talking to you for weeks but you shrugged me off. Then after school, I stopped those third years from harassing you. After that we became as thick as thieves, and I couldn't be more thankful. Soon enough, when Shirakumo started hanging out with us, we earned a nickname and all. The three dumbigos. I wish I knew who started it. Our original dream may not have come true, but I'm proud of you for making your new one happen. You turned this hidden dream into reality and if Oboro and Nemuri were here, they would be proud. Somewhere, I'm sure they're smiling at you and are sitting in shock at the fact that you found someone who puts up with you. You're my best friend and I couldn't be happier for you man, so rock out for once will ya?" Mic sniffled and wiped his eye before gesturing to my sister. "Misaki, you're up."

"Thanks Mic. Now I can't say mine is going to be as cheerful as Mic's but I'm going to say it anyways. This might embarrass you a bit but, isn't that what toasts are for?" I laughed and watched as my sister spoke. "I remember in high school, you came home one day and told me that you saw a boy from U.A. and you thought he was pretty. You told me how he had sleepy eyes and a mop of black hair and that you wanted to get to know him better. Every time Shiketsu and U.A. had an event, you would come home with these eyes filled with puppy love. You never worked up the courage to talk to him one on one for long or even get his number, but here you are now married to him. After you had Hanako," her voice cracked and she wiped her eyes, "shit, I told myself I wouldn't cry. After you had Hanako, and after he left, you were holding yourself together at the seams. Even though it's only a year age difference, you're my baby sister and I didn't know how to help you. You slowly started acting like yourself again but you were still missing something. I thought you missed the chance of going pro like you always talked about but really, you missed being loved. When Shouta came into the picture, I saw that hole in your heart slowly start to close and repair itself. You were you again, so Shouta, thank you for bringing my sister back to me. You make her happy and gave her her light back. You two have given me more I can ask you for and if she could be here today, I know mom and grandpa would be proud of you and so happy. You're an amazing mother and an amazing sister, so I can only assume you'll be an amazing wife." A few start tears slipped from me at my sisters speech.

A few students made their rounds, congratulating us and saying 'hello' to the kids. One of them stood out to me, the kid with unruly indigo hair.

"Love." He hummed and leaned a little closer at my hushed voice. "Do you have a kid we don't know about? Cause he looks a lot like you. You two have the same eyes and the same smile." His eyes widened at the insinuation. "Or do you just want to adopt him or something, cause you look at him like you look at the girls."

"Would you kill me if I said I might need to get a DNA test?" I laughed but shook my head.

(Warning, a teeny bit of a lime up ahead followed by some more fluff.)

We stumbled into the house in each other's arms, lips locked together as we giggled. My sister took the kids for the night so we had the house to ourselves. Our chests pressed against each others with our tongues fighting for dominance. We stopped walking when his legs hit the couch, his body getting pushed back by mine as I moved to straddle him. His hands rested on my waist, pulling my hips forward against his and making me melt like jello. My hands blindly made work of unbuttoning his white dress shirt, exposing his toned body and faded scars. His warm, large hands rested on my waist under my shirt, running up and down my sides. My hands moved without thinking, hooking into his waistband and only stopping when I felt his hands loosely grab my wrists. His lips left mine and quickly, he pressed our forehead together.

"I want to, but not tonight. You're my wife and believe me, when I say you are gorgeous and do things to me without even knowing it, things that should be illegal. I may not be the best with words when it counts but communication is important, so I feel as though I need to talk to you about this." My hands moved off of his waist and delicately cupped his face. His hands remained dangling from my wrists but now it was in support. I felt him place a chaste kiss to my palm before speaking again. "Since I lost my leg, my uh libido has gone down significantly. My doctor warned me about it, told me it's my bodies way of coping with the trauma or something. And now I see what he means. Because believe me, I want to. It's just, something in my brain is holding me back. And I'm not ready to see your reaction when you see what my leg looks like now. Logically, I know you and I know you'll just brush past it, but I still worry about the worst case scenario. That's why I haven't let you see the stub or where it connects to the prosthetic yet. One day, just please, wait for me until that day comes." My heart sunk at how vulnerable he was being about this insecurity.

"Hey," he finally looked up to meet my eyes, "of course I'll wait for you. How about we take baby steps until then. If I'm being honest, since having Hikari I haven't wanted you to see my scar. So, baby steps." His eyes shut as he let out a breath, his shoulders losing the previous tension.

"Well, we still have the house to ourselves tonight. What do you say we get comfortable, get some snacks and have a night in with some movies?" I leaned foreword and softly kissed him.

"That sounds perfect."

We soon found ourselves cuddled on the couch. My back to his chest, his back against the couch and one of his arms loosely draped over my stomach. A bowl of popcorn rested tucked in front of my chest and Neko curled in front of my thighs. A movie played on the television as we basked in each other's presence, it was peacefully and not standard but still perfect.

"I love you." I turned my head and placed a kiss on his jaw.

"I love you too, Sho." He placed a long, saccharine kiss on my temple as he held me closer.

Not conventional, but definitely perfect.

[nebulousneuroticism]

Welp, I made it home.  It was quite a trip.  This is going to be a very long post, sorry, you don’t have to read it, I just want to record what I remember.  The tl;dr is that France is very beautiful, and I enjoyed it despite getting sick.

So after I left home, I spent a couple days with my parents.  That was mostly uneventful.  One night, my aunt came over and we played a game and ate pizza.  In the evenings, I played Ace Attorney Chronicles.  It was pretty nice.

But soon enough, it was time to re-pack my bag and fly to France.  We left on Tuesday night.  It was an overnight flight, and I was trapped in a window seat.  I ate a vile airplane dinner, and then felt progressively more sick until we landed in Paris.  By the time we made it through customs, which was mobbed with people, I was feeling like I might faint.

We met up with my sister and her boyfriend in the airport, and caught a cab into the city for the next part of our journey.  While in the cab, my food poisoning finally reached a crescendo, and I vomited a lot.  Luckily, my sister’s boyfriend was quick on the draw and gave me his water bottle to use as a receptacle, so... at least it wasn’t messy.  But it was an absolutely horrible experience for everyone (especially me).

I slowly recovered after we arrived at a train station and waited an hour or two for a train.  We took a high-speed train to the Loire valley.  The train was cool because it went so fast that it made my ears pop; but also they had swapped out their original train for a shorter one, so that we didn’t have anywhere to sit, and I had to spend the hour-long journey standing up, which wasn’t great because I was still recovering from my food poisoning.

But we made it through, and then picked up a car and my dad drove us to our airbnb.  We arrived a little too early, but we still managed to get in, except that the owner arrived shortly thereafter and she didn’t speak english so I had to leverage my barely-adequate french skills to poorly explain why we were so early and apologize.  And THEN I was finally allowed to lie down and rest.

It was pretty interesting to get to use my French skills in the real world, actually.  I was impressed with myself in some ways: I was able to make myself understood, and to understand maybe 75% of what was said.  But it never took more than a sentence or two to encounter a word I didn’t know, or just didn’t understand because they spoke so fast, so any sort of back-and-forth conversation fell apart pretty fast.  Still, I did a lot better than my family did.  I was also surprised, perhaps a bit naively, by how little english was understood--there was usually someone around who could use it, but many people just didn’t have it at all.

The next few days after our inauspicious arrival were pretty exhausting.  The food poisoning faded quickly, but I was jet-lagged, and it became obvious within a day or two that I was also getting sick: I had heavy fatigue and head congestion.  Still, I trooped along as best I could.  I think I slowed everyone down a little, since I was so tired, but I only skipped one event: a dinner at a fancy restaurant.  On that night, I took a covid self-test, which came back negative.

The Loire valley is very beautiful.  We toured several palaces, which were all very grand and impressive.  I love palaces.  One day, I would like to own a palace.  We saw Cheverney, a small but beautiful palace; Chenonceau, a very impressive palace that spans a river and features large gardens; Chambord, a huge castle that was sadly marred by scaffolding during our visit; and Amboise, a castle that is mostly incomplete, but also has beautiful gardens and the grave of Leonardo da Vinci, who I greatly admire (unfortunately, I didn’t get to see the grave because the chapel was being restored).  There was so much to see.  I loved it.

The food we ate was also lovely.  French restaurants have a very different feel from American restaurants.  They serve a lot of multi-course meals (even at more casual restaurants), with long gaps to linger between the courses.  The waiters are inattentive by american standards, but also you don’t ever tip.  Various meats served in sauces, always fresh bread and cheese.  I also drank a lot of wine on this trip, mostly because my family was drinking, too.

After three days, we left the Loire valley and took a road trip to the Dordogne region, which is a more rural region in the southwest of France.  It was about a five hour drive.  Along the way, we stopped to see a town called Oradour-sur-Glane, which was the site of a massacre in WWII.  That was... sobering.  The ruins of the town are preserved, exactly as they were when the Nazis set it aflame after murdering all the civilians.  It was a pretty heavy thing to learn about.

We spent only a few days in the Dordogne.  On one day, we visited some prehistoric caves and saw cave paintings made tens of thousands of years ago.  Those were extremely impressive to see in person.  We also saw some ancient cliff dwellings, inhabited in prehistoric times and medieval times alike.  It was kind of awe-inspiring to think about the time spans involved, and the many, many lives that came and went there.

On the next day, we visited some medieval castles and wandered the medieval town center of Sarlat-la-Caneda, which is very cool.  I really enjoyed the pedestrian areas of the cities in France.  It felt like cars were an afterthought there.  It felt great as a pedestrian to be able to wander in the streets, parting occasionally to let a car crawl through--but conversely, it was very annoying when in a car because the roads were so winding and narrow, even on “highways.”

While we were there, we also made our first visit to a French pharmacy.  There seems to be only one place to buy medicine in France, generically named “Pharmacie,” which I assume is part of their socialized medical service.  Honestly, I wasn’t impressed: their selection was rather small, they were often closed (get sick in the evening or on a bank holiday? Too bad!), and they had a whole shelf devoted to homeopathy.

I got some rather ineffectual nasal decongestant, and some bandages for my thumb, which I had accidentally gouged in the shower so deeply that it took at least eight hours to finally stop bleeding.  I was still feeling sick, but the fatigue had given way to a stuffy nose and a dry cough.  Also, my dad and sister were feeling sick.  That was probably inevitable, given how closely we’d been spending our time.

Anyway, after that, we took another road trip to Provence, where we spent the remainder of our time.  It was hot there, and the sun beat down on us every day.  All told, I suppose we got lucky with the weather on this trip: in the north, it was cool but not cold, in the south the heat was tolerable, and it never rained.

We slowed down a little bit on the frenetic pace of our touring, but we still did a lot in Provence.  On one day, we took a food tour, where we pigged out on all sorts of local chocolates and coffees and cheeses and pastries.  On another day, we took a wine tour, visiting a couple vineyards and learning how to properly taste a wine (and getting tipsy, of course).  We visited some local markets, which were quite impressive.  And the restaurants were excellent, as usual.

We did some historical touring, too.  We walked through the town of Arles, which had some old Roman ruins and a bunch of stuff about van Gogh, who lived there for a time.  We visited the papal palace in Avignon, where a bunch of popes (and one or two anti-popes) lived.  We saw Pont du Gard, a very impressive Roman aqueduct that spans a river.  We also saw another ruined castle called des Baux, and a very cool light show in a repurposed underground quarry, where the lights were projected on the white, geometric quarry walls.

On our second-to-last night, my mom surprised us all with a combination birthday/anniversary/every-possible-holiday gift: a private chef, who cooked for us what I believe to be the best meal I have ever eaten.  There was a citrus shrimp dish, and a main course of slow-cooked lamb, and a dessert of some kind of light, citrus-and-berry yogurt.  It was amazing.  I made a choice that night to drink a lot of wine, too and I got a little drunk.

That night, the three of us who were returning to the US decided to take at-home covid tests, just to be sure.  The US still requires an official negative covid test to reenter the country, which is a maddeningly stupid requirement at this point in the pandemic.  I had slowly recovered from my sickness, but the cough continued to linger.   So we took our at-home tests, and... mine was positive.  Guess my sickness was covid after all.

That was worrying, but not an official result, and I had been on the mend, so we still had hope that I might get a negative official test.  The next day, as it turned out, was a bank holiday.  You may recall that this means the French pharmacies were all closed.  Thanks to a kind helper at the local tourist information office, my mom was able to track down one single pharmacy that was open, half an hour’s drive away.  So we drove there, got lost, called the pharmacy, somehow got their correct address despite the language barrier, and then showed up and got our tests taken, and my test was negative!  And that’s the story of how I didn’t get stranded in France.

That was three days ago.  The journey home was a long ordeal, but thankfully less... eventful than the journey there.  We had to leave at three am to catch our flight, which connected through Germany.  When we reached the US, we found that someone had stolen the catalytic converter from my parents’ car.  It was still driveable, which was good and bad: good because we made it home, but bad because the car was so incredibly loud that I’m pretty sure I lost ten years’ worth off the life span of my ears.

I crashed at my parents’ house, slept for twelve hours, and then this morning I went right back to the airport to fly back to my place.  And now here I am, and everything is as I left it.

The trip was really incredible and memorable and great.  I wish I hadn’t been sick, but besides that, I think I had some experiences that I’ll never forget.  Still, it’s good to be home.  I’m pretty tired.

[gingersnaaps]

sandman

to be taken by sleep really isn't such a bad thing - not when osamu's the one waiting in your dreams.

wc: 3.2k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, dubcon, creampie, breeding mentions, penetration, fingering, sex dreams, sleep paralysis, incubus!osamu vibes, vaguely supernatural, you fall asleep forever at the end, fem!reader with inner genitals

a/n: written for @ultimate-astridwriting's wonderful collab and inspired by my recent stint of sleep deprivation also i feel like i may have strayed a bit from the prompt but oh well

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

You can’t recall when Miya Osamu first started appearing in your dreams.

It was a subtle thing at first: the features of strangers, normally blurred beyond recognition, melded into his half-lidded eyes and soft smile, and you’d catch glimpses of his face in the reflection of windows and out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t think too much of it. You’d read an article somewhere that mentioned how faces in one’s dreams came from the interactions in our real lives, and with how much you’d been frequenting his onigiri shop, you suppose that his appearances were to be expected.

Still felt a little strange for you to be having a dream so intimate, though.

You’re lying on top of his broad chest, one arm on your waist, the other resting gently on your thigh. His thumb rubs tender circles into your skin, stroking softly as you rise and fall with the movement of his chest.

“‘Miya?” you ask tentatively. “How did I end up here?”

He chuckles. It’s a deep, rich, sound, one that reminds you of rivers running steady and full moons in the countryside, the vibrations passing from his body to yours. When he speaks, his voice is low and a little quiet, but with his lips grazing your ear, you don’t miss a single word.

“Call me Osamu.”

The familiarity leaves your face slightly flushed, embarrassment tingling across your skin. He shifts you around in his arms, tilting your body so that you meet his warm, inviting, gaze. The hand on your thigh seems to burn red-hot, and you wonder if he can hear the heartbeat pulsing just inches away from his fingertips.

He smiles softly at you. “You’re a beautiful girl.”

Your heart seizes, malfunctions, pounds erratically-

You wake up in the dark, damp sheets clinging to your skin, heart skipping like a schoolgirl and drunk off the compliment from your dream.

There’s a bad ache in between your legs. You trail a hand down your front, fingers sliding into your pajama shorts to quell your want.

-

Dusk is falling across Tokyo when you head to Miya’s - no, Osamu’s - onigiri shop. Twilight makes giants of the pedestrians, stretches out the shadows that loom tall in the soft gray-orange of the setting sun, the darkened shapes scurrying through the city’s rush hour.

Unlike them, you’re not going home.

A busy schedule meant little time for home-cooked meals, and the food here really was excellent. When you push open the door to his shop, the jangle of a bell sounds somewhere above you, and Osamu barely looks up before a smile settles on his face.

“The usual, I suppose,” he says, beckoning you inside.

You nod gratefully. The atmosphere of the shop is comforting - there’s just a few customers trickling through, picking up their to-go order that he’s prepared. You pick a seat near the window, one that gives you an unobstructed view of the sunset outside.

The chatter dies down as the last customers leave the shop, their onigiri clutched in hand, and a peaceful silence descends on the space around you. He brings out your food just a few minutes later, setting the dish in front of you.

“As requested by my favorite customer,” he says, a wry grin on his face. “Glad to have you back tonight.”

Your stomach flutters at the closeness between the two of you, and you suddenly feel embarrassed - ashamed of how much you’d been thinking about him, of the dreams you’d been having, of the way his touch had left you wanting for more in those same dreams - but it’s a good kind of embarrassed, one that leaves excitement bubbling in your core.

It feels a bit like a crush.

“Couldn’t miss out on the food, could I?” you reply.

“So you’re only here for my onigiri.”

“I- no, of course not."

“Just teasing.”

He smiles crookedly, and for just a moment, there’s a knowing glint that flashes in his eyes - the kind of expression that makes it seem like he’s aware of more than he’s letting on - but it vanishes almost immediately, passing too quickly for you to be sure of anything.

He turns to go back inside the kitchen, lifting up a hand casually to wave goodbye. “See you soon.”

-

Upon your arrival home, the first thing you notice is how very tired you are.

It’s not too out of the ordinary - it was a Monday afternoon, after all, and that had always been your least favorite day of the week - but the minute you crash onto the couch, your eyelids seem to droop with sleep, limbs growing heavy as the room around you swirls into a half-conscious haze.

You’ve still got chores to take care of. There’s dishes from the morning to wash, laundry to fold and put away, a few work emails to respond to that were probably very important, but you just can’t seem to stave off the overwhelming fatigue that seeps through your veins and numbs your entire body.

You need to sleep.

So you let it happen. You let your eyes flutter shut, let yourself relax and melt into the soft cushions of the couch, let your mind go nice and blank and empty.

After you give up the struggle of staying awake, the dreams come quickly.

“Glad to have you back so soon.”

The warm, quiet, voice from yesterday rumbles somewhere above you. You’re laying on his chest again, ear pressed to the soft fabric of his faded black shirt. You make a small, confused, noise, but he just laughs, gently brushing aside your hair, a hand trailing down your body and creeping closer to your inner thigh.

His touch feels electric. Every brush of his fingertips against your thigh, feather-light and teasing, leaves you with your heartbeat thudding in your cunt.

“We’ve gotta get you ready,” he murmurs. “Prep you well enough so that you’ll feel good when the time is right.”

You clench around nothing at his words, and maybe he can feel it with his hand so dangerously close to your pussy, because he smiles lazily and asks, “Are you that desperate?”

You’re not sure whether you should deny it - he can probably tell you are, anyway, but the thought of nodding, of saying yes, ‘Samu, want it so fucking bad - it leaves you with your cheeks flushed hot with shame.

He doesn’t need your explicit confirmation to read the way your body twitches against his, though, and he moves his hand lower to cup around your pussy. His palm is warm, the pressure steady and constant as he holds his hand still against your throbbing cunt. You can’t help but squirm against him, sloppily grinding your clit against his waiting hand, bucking your hips back and forth for any friction you can get. You’re panting, breaths quick and shallow as you feel the drag of the cotton panties in between his skin and yours, and a lewd moan tumbles from your lips. “Touch me,” you mumble, voice thick with arousal.

You look so pretty down there, hair mussed and mouth open slack in a perfect o, getting off all by yourself - he should give you a hand, shouldn’t he?

He nudges your damp panties aside, the thin fabric creasing the fat of your pussy as he brings a thumb up to your clit. His ministrations start slow, circling your clit patiently while you writhe from the pleasure, just barely dipping his index finger into your hole, his long, dextrous fingers skilled and patient as he works to search out the sensitive spots that leave you gasping and delirious.

“I want you dripping,” he says softly, sliding his finger inside all the way to the base of his knuckle. “Want you spread out on my hand, soaking me through, wet enough for me to fuck you full.”

You shudder with anticipation at his words, hips wriggling and rutting against his stiffening cock as his finger drags along the ridges of your g-spot. Every movement of his is accompanied by an embarrassingly audible squelching noise, your cunt already swollen and hot with arousal, your slick running in a cool trail down the crease of your thigh.

He flicks his thumb against your clit, this time more harshly. “ ‘m gonna fill you up so good when you’re ready,” he whispers. “Fuck you until your pussy milks my cock dry.”

Your eyelids flutter, a rush of pleasure crashing down on you as he pops another finger inside. Your hand fists at his shirt weakly, grabbing and pawing at the fabric as he curls his fingers just right inside you.

“You’re gonna feel so fucking good, sweetheart.”

You wake up from your dream as an orgasm ripples through your body, eyes flying wide open as you squirm and thrash on the couch. The pleasure coiling tight inside your core unwinds, pulsing in your cunt as you moan.

The room is dark and empty.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, vision bleary as you reach for your phone - it reads 7:00 AM. You’ve slept for almost twelve hours.

As you get up, swinging your legs off the couch and righting yourself, you notice one intense, overwhelming, feeling that roots you to the couch and leaves your limbs limp and loose:

You still feel so tired.

-

The rest of the week seems to pass by in a blur. You’re so exhausted you can barely think straight, stumbling from your office to your home - and sometimes to Osamu’s onigiri shop - going about your life half-dazed and barely conscious.

The only respite you get is in sleep.

Your dreams have gotten particularly intense as of late, head clouding full of visions where you’re fucked in every position: shoved up against the wall, facedown in the mattress, and even hoisted up on the counter. Through it all, there’s one constant.

Miya Osamu features in every single one of them.

You know his voice by heart now, a low, quiet, rumble that both soothes you and sets your cunt thrumming with anticipation. His silver-gray hair, his round, half-lidded eyes, the softness and the warmth of his body - they’re as familiar to you as your own features by now. You’re pretty sure you’ve even memorized the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you.

In every dream, he whispers the most tantalizing promises in your ear, breathing promises of how he’s gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart, gonna fill you up, gonna breed this pretty pussy until you’re carrying my seed inside you.

And even though you never wake up well rested anymore, you find that you don’t particularly mind. After all, there’s not much you look forward to in your waking hours. Every grating hour you spend working your stupid little job, or attending your lengthy, useless, lectures - it all feels like you’re just going through the motions, like you’re just trying to make it through so that night falls sooner and he can finally come visit you.

The week comes and goes, and soon enough, it’s already Friday.

You stumble in through the front door, a yawn itching at your throat, and you head straight for your bedroom. You pass by the ever-growing stack of dirty dishes in the sink, the stack of bills on the countertop, the laundry you’ve left in the drying machine. You’ll get to it next week.

For now, you just want to sleep.

The bedroom is gloomy and dim, grey light from an overcast twilight filtering through the blinds. The room feels stuffy in the dark, the four walls suffocating the small space, but you don’t bother with turning on the lights. Why would you, when you plan on heading straight to sleep?

You undress clumsily, almost tripping as you pull off your pants and shrug off your blouse, and stagger into the soft, warm, embrace of your bed.

A warm burst of comfort surges through you as the familiar feeling of drowsiness overtakes you. Your eyelids grow heavy, lashes fluttering slightly, the thump of your heart slowing - you’re right on the precipice between the conscious and the unconscious, straddling the border between sleep and waking -

You hear a voice sound from shadowy recesses of your room.

It’s a voice you’d recognize anywhere.

“I missed you at my shop today.”

You open your mouth to respond, but no noise comes out. It’s as if your vocal cords have been plucked from your throat, your voice frozen somewhere deep inside your trachea, and the only sound you can make is that of silence. A bit belatedly, you realize that you can’t move either, your limbs settling uselessly at your side as you lie paralyzed on your back.

A head of gleaming, silver, hair emerges in front of you, and your breath catches in your throat. You’re not sure if this is a dream anymore.

You blink once, and suddenly, you find him in your bed. He’s hovering above you, arms pressed to either side of your head, gazing down with a hungry, hungry, expression. He’s waited all week for this, sweetheart - won’t you finally indulge him?

He pulls the comforter aside, large hands gliding over your body and hoisting up your hips. You feel like a ragdoll in his hands, limp and immobile, and he rearranges your limbs and positions you until he gains easy access to your ready, waiting, cunt - the same cunt that he’s been preparing all week.

He drags a finger through your slick folds, already wet and sticky from the ministrations of the previous few days. There’s no need to bother with prep. He can already feel the way your cunt pulses at his touch, can see the need etched into the gleam of your eyes even as the expression on the rest of your face remains frozen.

His hand glides over his clothed cock, strained and throbbing with need as he pulls it out and strokes slowly, eyes fixated on your body the entire time. His dick is big, flushed almost purple as cream beads at the tip, balls fat and full and heavy.

Osamu’s had enough of waiting.

With a groan, he pops his cockhead into your drooling, twitching, hole, pushing in steady, thrusting all the way into your tightening cunt until he hits your cervix.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, face scrunched with pleasure. “So tight it feels like you’re trying to milk me dry.”

He rolls his hips slowly, dragging his cock along the front of your walls, the ridge of a vein pressing right into your sweet spot. Your legs twitch uselessly as he pulls halfway out before slamming his cock back in.

“I wonder if you’d like that,” he muses. He brings a thumb to rest at your puffy, swollen, clit, pressing down in steady circles, his touch unrelenting and firm, sending spasms of pleasure that leave you clenching and gripping down onto his thick cock.

“I think you would. I think you’d love it if I filled you up, if I fucked you full of cum and bred this tight little hole,” he says, the barest hint of an amused smile tugging at his lips. His voice is calm and steady - a striking contrast to his filthy words, his brazen promises.

His slow, steady, strokes quicken, hips slamming roughly into yours, each thrust satiating the want in your cunt. Your walls pulse as if they need to be filled, squelching lewdly as he fucks you hard and deep.

He leans down. His lips hover millimeters away from your forehead, just barely grazing your skin with tender, light, kisses. “Take it,” he whispers, thumb rubbing harshly at your clit. “Take it like a good girl for me. I know you can.”

The kisses he presses to your forehead start to travel down the underside of your jaw, soft little nips and bites with his blunt teeth that leaves a trail of his glossy spit on your face. His mouth finds your ear.

“When I cum, you better not waste a single drop,” he breathes. “Wanna fill you up, make you mine. I want to own this pussy.”

He brings his hand down to pat your stomach where your womb would be, rubbing the soft surface of your skin in tender circles. His balls are aching so badly - he needs to cum, needs that release, needs to stuff your messy cunt.

“Cum with me,” he urges. “Right now.”

The pleasure pulsing inside you draws taught - snaps - and you’re pushed over the edge. If you were still capable of speaking and moving, you’re sure you’d be moaning loudly, hips twitching uselessly as he creams your pussy over and over. He fucks you through your orgasm, spent cock softening inside you as you squeeze his dick. After all, he doesn’t want any of it to leak. He wants it sloshing around in your hole, filling you up until you’re warm and wet and sticky, wants to breed you, to mark you down as his.

You look beautiful with your insides stained white, he thinks.

You can feel your cunt twitching slightly as you come down from your high. He smiles warmly, gives your pussy a little pat -

You blink and he’s gone.

Almost as if he was never there in the first place.

Sleep takes you quickly after that. You’re exhausted from being fucked, exhausted from the constant stimulation, and you quickly fall fast asleep. All is silent and still in your darkened bedroom.

-

The next day, right as the sun starts to drop over the horizon, glinting stars nestled in the sky high above, you find yourself back in front of Osamu’s onigiri shop.

It’s partly due to the hunger gnawing in your stomach, but it’s more out of curiosity than anything. You need to know if it’s real, if he’s real, if the past two weeks were nothing but a fever dream.

And you really want to see him again.

As you push open the door to his shop, you’re greeted with his friendly smile, as usual.

“Same thing again?” he asks.

“Of course.”

The exhaustion hasn’t gone anywhere. You’re still constantly tired, always drifting off during the daytime, limbs weary and worn. When you sit yourself down at the usual spot - the table near the window - that irresistible fatigue seems to creep up on you again.

It’s so calm and comforting in his little shop. The lights are warm, the view is pretty, the quiet chatter of his few customers soothing to your ears. It’s so easy to rest your head in between your hands, shoulders slumping, mind empty of every little unimportant thought, so easy to just close your eyes, so easy to fall into the rose-tinted haze of your nice, pleasurable, dreams.

Osamu comes out of the kitchen in the back of the shop, carrying your food on a plate, and finds you fast asleep with your head on his table.

He’s not surprised. In fact, he’s quite pleased.

In fact, if he has his way, you’ll never have to wake up again.

tyvm for reading!! i really appreciate reblogs and comments - it's part of what motivates me to keep making content :)

here's my masterlist if you'd like more.

[haikyuuphilia]

Hello!! I just found your blog and I love your works so so much, your fluff is so good and it warms my heart and aaaaa!!!! I don’t really know how to explain but basically me ❤️❣️💕💞💓💗💖💘💝 @ all your Headcanons hskshsjsbs!! I really liked the one where their s/o fall asleep on them, so would it be alright to ask the same but with Osamu, akaashi (And Bokuto too if that’s possible but I totally understand if you don’t do him! Energy adult child, I’m not sure if he’d let you a chance to fall asleep I’m the first place LMAO) please? Sorry if this is very sudden, I hope you don’t mind but feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do it!

I hope you have a great day, please hydrate and take care !! All your favs loves you !!!

you accidentally fall asleep on them

pt.2 of headcanons with osamu, bokuto, & akaashi

find pt.1 with kuroo, tsukishima, and yamaguchi here & suga hcs here! 

established relationship, no warnings apply, gn!reader | fluff ♡

→ miya osamu

you two are waiting to pick up food from a restaurant nearby before heading back to osamu’s place for a stay-in date of dinner and baking cookies

you’d both ordered ahead, but it seems like the restaurant was running a little behind schedule

so your projected 6pm takeout order turned into 6:15, then 6:30 :(

osamu’s a little annoyed because he’s sure you’re hungry for dinner by now and doesn’t want his s/o waiting

but he’s secretly happy you two get to spend a little bit of time together just chilling in public, too

you’re chatting about your day with him, and he’s listening attentively

you yawn every now and then, which he of course notices

he asks if you want to cancel your baking plans for that night

he’s perfectly happy just cuddling you to sleep, after all

you say you’re fine, but he notices you’re rubbing your eyes and blink slowly every now and then

and the food’s still not out yet

he’s talking about the different types of cookies you two could bake at home when he feels your head on his shoulder

“keep talking,” you say sleepily, “i promise i’m listening.”

you don’t see his soft smile, but you feel his lips brush the top of your head as you drift off

osamu was annoyed at the late order of food before, but now he kind of hopes the restaurant never delivers your order if it means he gets your head on his shoulder

has to control his happy expression because he’s literally overjoyed but is trying to play it cool

he’s secretly proud that every now and then the other restaurauntgoers sneak a glance at you two, a subtlely affectionate couple

he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulder and bring you closer to him

when the food finally arrives, he’s reluctant to wake you up

but he’s glad you light up when you see the dinner and his face by yours

osamu definitely wouldn’t mind if you accidentally fall asleep after you two get back home, either <3

→ bokuto koutarou

you two are on a date that consisted of hiking in the mountains and then a picnic by a local waterfall

it’s been going amazingly, as your dates with him always go -- but you’re tired

bokuto, unsurprisingly, is still full of energy

you’re prepared to power through and make the 2.5 mile long trek back down to level ground

but then your shoes break

at first, bokuto decides to go barefoot with you as a fun adventure

that ends real quick when he stubs his toe and you step on a pinecone (ouch)

then he wants to give you his shoes because what kind of boyfriend would make his s/o walk barefoot ?

your feet don’t fit his shoes that well, so you go to plan C:

bokuto will carry you down the mountain

so you hesitantly get up, and he gives you a piggy back ride down the mountain, walking briskly like he’s not carrying an entire person on his back

you can feel his back muscles flexing, and he’ll probably hike you up higher on his back so you don’t fall off

plus his arms are wrapped firmly under your thighs 

it’s quiet except for the sounds of nature, and bokuto’s focused on keeping you upright while getting down the mountain

so you end up falling asleep on accident

he feels your head rest against the back of his neck

bokuto will whisper your name a couple of times because he can’t turn his head to see you

when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep, he’ll get so happy

wants to do a happy dance but doesn’t want to wake you up lmao

he’ll take you the rest of the way down the mountain like that, you sleeping peacefully on his back

he’s never walked so carefully in his life 

you wake up when he sets you down on a bench

you’re probably worried that he overexerted himself because who just ?? carries a person??? 2.5 miles down a mountain?

answer: your boyfriend, that’s who

he assures you that he barely noticed you on his back at all lmao (no matter how much you weigh <3)

bokuto says he could go all day and all night 😳

piggy back rides with bo are 10/10 highly recommend

he’s just a strong, sweet boyfriend <3

→ akaashi keiji

you two were wrapping up your date at the cherry blossom park

but then it started to drizzle, and now the rain was pouring down

instead of booking it back to the bus stop a half mile away, you two decided to wait out the rainstorm in a nearby pavilion

you both sat down on the benches and listened to the sound of rain together, watching the cherry blossom tree branches shake in the wind

as more time passes, you grow sleepy, and your head falls forward as your eyes close

akaashi’s got lightning fast reflexes and moves his arm out to keep your forehead from smacking into the table lmao

he realizes you’ve fallen asleep, so he moves your head from the table to his shoulder

then reconsiders and gently brings your head to his lap, which he figures is more comfortable and probably warmer

takes off his jacket and puts it over you as a makeshift blanket because he doesn’t want you to get sick with the rainy weather

he may look calm on the outside, but on the inside, he’s practically giddy with happiness

akaashi is so happy that you’re comfortable enough to fall asleep with him, your boyfriend

(he’s a tiny bit worried about your fatigue and if you’re sleeping enough, though)

as he gazes down at you resting on his lap, he might brush a few strands of hair out of your face

probably plays with your hair or holds your hand as you sleep

he’s content just with your presence, even if you’re not awake to talk to him excitedly like you normally do

eventually, the rain stops and the sky clears up

but akaashi wouldn’t wake you up -- he figures you need all the rest you can get, and he’s happy to sit there and wait

you get up not too long after, waking up to see his blue green eyes looking lovingly at you

you: akaashi... what? why is it dark outside? how long have we been here?

akaashi: i don’t know,, i lose track of time when i’m with you

ugh i want an akaashi

you might be a little embarrassed, but he assures you that he’s happy to act as your pillow any time, any day

will insist that you two go back and get some rest because you need it!

and even if he gets a cold the next day, he knows it was worth it just for you

loving, caring, selfless, stunning = your boyfriend, akaashi <3

ahh hi there!!! that’s so sweet of you, and i’m really glad you’ve enjoyed the fluff so far! i’m more than happy to write for them, so thank you for the kind words and hope you enjoyed the headcanons (i don’t know what came over me when i wrote them,,, they’re ridiculously long haha oops)

x rue

[deluluass]

What bliss, domesticity.

for: @tink2kagome. i’m sorry it took me so long to work on ur pretty setter squad request T^T i’ll probably do like another one in the future! 

  & @lady-tokugawa-of-mikawa @belpomme @chaichai-the-weeb for being such lovely mutuals <3 <3 

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; yakuza/organized crime; gun mention; a lot of (non-sexual) food references in this one

  Jun’ichi Saikawa was obviously the kind of man who liked to laugh. Not unlike most people in their world. The kind who use their entire body when they do, announcing to the entire world with a bellowing “Ha Ha Ha!” how pleased they are with whatever’s going on in front of them.

  Which, in all honesty, was pretty admirable, that the old man could still do it considering how bored to tears Wataru was. 

  That it’s a humid afternoon didn’t help either. He could feel the sweat on his back even when the doors were already slid open, exhibiting a verdant garden filled with blossoms and shrub peonies. From his place he could see the school of koi swirling in the shallow pond, their scales iridescent under the warm rays of the sun. 

  “Didn’t know you were the funny sort, 'Kaashi!” Saikawa blurted out, the sake in his hand spilling to his fingers.

  This wasn’t Wataru’s first day on the job, but this is the first that he gets to do something this important. And with someone he highly respects, too. 

  So he gave his collar a light tug, steeling himself to endure as he tucked his legs further beneath him, and resorted to thinking about the many things he would absolutely surrender just to lie down on the warm mat. 

  His car, maybe.

  The brand new noise-cancelling headphones he bought, if pushed. 

  Wataru saw Akaashi nod.

  “I appreciate a joke every now and then,” he said.

  The larger man laughed again.

  “Here, here!” Saikawa thundered, snatching a tiny, yellow box from the maid who appeared as swiftly as she’d left. 

  “I heard you like sweets. Here,” he said, grinning as he handed it to Akaashi. “My youngest son just opened a cake shop. I know what you’re thinking, but who am I to say no, eh?”

  Akaashi passed the box to Wataru. 

  “Mind it for me, please,” he whispered.

  How unexpected. Akaashi-san has a sweet tooth.

  Huh. 

  That’s pretty neat. Wataru himself wasn’t partial to cakes, but he does love pudding. 

  “You are a good father, Jun’ichi-san,” Akaashi told him. 

  This time, Wataru didn’t bother suppressing a yawn as Saikawa fumbled for his phone, hiding it behind his hand as he stared at the birds chirping and hopping about outside.

  “Wanna see him? He’s much like you! Good head on his shoulders, that one.” 

  “I am honored, Jun’ichi-san,” Akaashi echoed back, peering down at the photos Saikawa showed him. 

  “He sends me a lot of these- uh,” Saikawa snorted, his nose reddened by the alcohol. “What do young people call it, the- pictures-”

  “Selfies?” Akaashi politely supplied. 

  “That’s the one! Look. Precious, ain’t he?”

  His earpiece crackled to life. 

  Konoha’s voice emerged from the static. 

  “We’re ready when you are,” his senior murmured. “Man, this is taking too long. Let’s get some burgers when we’re done.”

  “Akaashi-san,” Wataru croaked, feeling his cheeks heat up as he continued, “K-Komi-san and the others are waiting for you.”

  Saikawa perked up. “Ah, of course! Of course!” 

  He stumbled when he attempted to stand up. Akaashi was quick on his feet to assist him.

  “I knew I could count on you, son,” he muttered, patting Akaashi’s back. “Now, you tell Bokuto that what happened between us- it’s all in the past! All in the past! And if those bastards mess with him again, you tell him to run to old Jun’ichi!”

  Akaashi clasped Saikawa’s hand.

  “Thank you,” Akaashi said. “I’ll be sure to relay your sentiments to Bokuto-san.”

  “You do that, my boy.” Saikawa’s belly shook as he laughed. “Your generation’s a smart one, indeed. The in-fighting and wars, bah! All that trouble for nothing; that’s not your style. Your lot’s the future now!”

  Then, Akaashi stepped a few meters back and bowed. 

  Wataru followed behind him. 

  “We will be taking our leave,” Akaashi said. “It has been an illuminating talk, Jun’ichi-san.”

  The sound of the bamboo drip trickling water into another stalk permeated through the silence.

  It collapsed and clunked against a stone. 

  He heard the birds flutter away.

  When Wataru raised his head, Saikawa had already been lying face down on the floor. 

  And, of course, Wataru’s used to it: the crack of a gun muffled by a silencer. 

  He’s been practicing his entire life, after all. He actually doesn’t flinch anymore and Wataru thinks he should be proud of himself.

  It’s just that... how could someone who used to be there, suddenly...disappear? Saikawa was right in front of him a few minutes ago. Laughing and showing off photographs of his son. And now he’s...not.

  But, Saikawa didn’t disappear. Not really. 

  The blood seeping through the tatami is proof of it, but Wataru chooses not to look. In theory, he knows what a bullet through the skull looks like. He’d just rather not see today if what he’s taught reflects true in the real world. 

  Maybe some other time.

  “Wataru.” 

  Wataru flinched. “Y-yes?”

  Akaashi looked back at him. “The cake?”

  His body was still trembling and it took a lot of strength to not let it show in his hands when he gave it back to Akaashi, the box pleasantly yellow with doodles of doe-eyed eggs dancing along the handle. Unblemished, unlike Akaashi, who was sporting a splatter of blood along his cheek. 

  It’s surprisingly still cool to touch, too.

  “No, thank you,” he said, rejecting the handkerchief that Wataru offered. 

  From afar, Wataru could hear the faint melodies of an old love song being played by a car radio. No doubt Konoha’s doing. It followed them, growing louder the closer they walked back into the parking lot. The others bowed and sent gruff salutations along Akaashi’s way as they dragged bodies out of the Saikawa mansion. 

  (It was nauseating and Wataru wanted to pass out.)

  He pressed his nails harshly into the meat of his palm. 

  “A-Akaashi-san,” Wataru began. “I didn’t know that- that um, you liked... sweets.”

  Akaashi halted. 

  “No, I don’t,” he said, blinking. “But my wife does.”

  Wataru stared at him. 

  Akaashi went ahead. 

  He stayed that way— staring and wondering, until they stopped by the fast food restaurant that Konoha loved so much. Wataru couldn’t even finish his burger and fries. 

  By the time that they hit the freeway, Akaashi had already cleaned himself up and Wataru was still grappling with the word “wife.” 

  Of course he knows the man is married. 

  But, how, exactly, do you reconcile his reputation with the sight of him, every passing headlight sharpening his features, quietly humming along to Aki Yashiro? Who was longing for Shinjuku at night, the beauty of it, and oh, how wonderful it’d be, she said: a rendezvous with her lover, waiting for her under raining cherry blossoms. 

  Wataru figured that he was tired and starting to see things. 

  That small smile that graced Akaashi’s lips couldn't be real, either, especially those hands of his that held the box of cake like it’s worth more than gold.

He wasn't really particular when it comes to music. A song's a song, in Akaashi's opinion. Another form of noise that helps when the silence gets too overbearing. 

  But you, on the other hand, liked music. Listened to it the same way one eats their favorite food: memorizes the lyrics; goes out of your way to collect unearthed photographs and newspaper clippings that made the singer seem more human.

  You loved music— was probably the right way of putting it.

  Especially the old variety. He didn't get it at first. The sounds are dated; no one speaks in that language with that cadence anymore; the singer's probably dead.

  Well, Akaashi still doesn't get it, if he were to be honest. 

  Yet here he is. 

  His hands were wrapped around your waist, coaxing you into a slow— albeit clumsy, waltz.

  "Kei-kun!" you squeaked. "The dishes!"

  You dragged your slippers beneath you, struggling to wipe the suds off your hands. 

  "S-seriously, Kei-kun..!"

  Sure, he doesn’t fully understand what’s great about it, music. 

  Yet here he is. 

  Perhaps it’s because he immediately recognized the first few notes this time, that’s why he’s doing this. He didn’t even wait for the DJ to finish saying, “You’re still listening to Vintage F.M. Here’s a classic for you couples out there. Have a romantic night with Nat King Cole’s L-O-V-”

  Perhaps it’s because your cream stew tasted extra special that it made him shrug the fatigue off, giving in to the urge of pulling you close and taking your damp hand in his to sway and bob along the skipping bassline. Your bashful objections went in one ear and out the other.

  Sure, he’s not the type to do this, either, dancing. 

  Yet here he is. 

  Perhaps it’s because he knew that it’s your favorite song.

  Perhaps it’s just what marriage does to you.

  "Did you like the cake?" he whispered against your neck, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and the way your skin jumped as he did.

  Your breaths were shallow against his chest, but you managed a soft, “Yes, sweetheart. Thank you.”

  Akaashi caressed your back, kneading the tensed muscles as he huffed. 

  “Good,” he murmured, trembling. “Good girl. What a relief." 

  It was endearing, how offbeat the both of you were. A shame, though, considering that Nat King Cole’s fervently insisting on love; that it’s all that I can give to you; that it’s more than just a game for two. 

  So Akaashi makes up for his two left feet by joining in. He pressed his lips to your forehead. How strange, your presence in his life. What did he do to deserve you by his side, for this contentment that thaws away the chill?

  (He put a ring on your finger, is what he did. He deserves this.)

  “Two,” he droned, made giddy by the sparks in his belly, “in love can make it.”

  You looked at him, wide-eyed. 

  “Take my heart and please don’t break it.”

  He spun you around.

  “Oh my god, Kei-kun,” you gasped. “You can’t sing.”

  Akaashi’s aware of it all too well. He can’t carry a note; not him: the guy who’s had monotony ingrained in his very being. But that’s why he has you.

  A startled giggle left you as he guided you into a box step, the trumpet rising and falling over the strings. You stepped on him a few times, so he lifted you up, just so, and kicked off your slippers. Then, he set your feet atop his own. 

  He took you with him as he moved, waddling and careful not to hit his back against the countertop. It came as no revelation that both of you weren’t any better dancers even after this maneuver.

  Akaashi continued. Starting with L—

  “Is for the way you look at me.”

  “Stop, stop-” Your eyes crinkled at the sides. “You’re flat.”

  Akaashi persisted, anyway, taking your cheek to pepper kisses all over your face.

  “O is for the only one I see.”

  Your laugh was airy— light and buoyant all over the kitchen, like a fairy leaving stardust in its wake. Not gratingly booming nor demanding. After all, you weren’t the kind who felt the need for it: an audience to witness how pleased you are; how strong and powerful you are over everyone else. 

  Besides, your laugh was just for him. A private and intimate thing. And he was so lost in it that he almost forgot what’s been gnawing at him for the entire morning.

  Akaashi rested his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling the downy fabric of your dress as he gripped you by the hips. 

  “Where did you go earlier?” 

  The orchestra was in a joyous uproar, joining the rapid beating of your heart; the trumpet bright and clear, singing in harmony with the bass and saxophones and trombones, as Nat King Cole repeatedly guaranteed, as if an oath, that love was made for me and you. 

  Love was made for me and you.

  “I had to buy some groceries!” you piped up. “We ran out of ingredients. Sorry, I forgot to bring my phone with me. Oh, I have to run you a bath. I’ll tell you when it’s done, alright?”

  You broke away from him with a beaming grin, but Akaashi wanted to ask, despite the evidence of it before him. 

  “Are you happy?”

  It has already ended, the song. The DJ was signing off for the night.

  You nodded, playfully jabbing his arm with a fist. 

  “Of course,” you told him. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Perhaps it’s because you were never really good at pretense, no matter how much you hid behind needless noise. 

  Music. Laughter. Running water. 

  Akaashi sighed as he slumped down the nearest stool.

  Of course you’re happy. Why wouldn’t you be?

  After rubbing his eyes with clammy fingers, Akaashi fiddled them together beneath his temples. He released a heavy breath and fished for his phone in his pocket.

  He spoke after the first two rings. 

  “Wataru-san, I’m sorry for bothering you,” he said. “Can you do something for me?”

  His subordinate didn't ask him why, neither did he react when he'd stated his request. Akaashi knew, however, that the question was sitting in Wataru's clipped replies. The boy’s “yes, sir” and “understood, sir” were far too enthusiastic than normal.

  Akaashi didn’t mind, though, if he did ask. And despite that familiar pang of dread, Akaashi would answer him like the common— just like the average, everyday husband— with that characteristic, bordering on irksome pride that they have when they talk about their wives. 

  Why?

  “Well, Wataru-san,” Akaashi would answer. “Perhaps this is just what marriage does to you.”

The house was a house like any other.

  There was an old pickup truck parked outside the freshly painted gate, carrying crates of fruits and vegetables in its trunk. Along the bricked walls was an overgrowth of vines and ferns. It extended around the windows and crept up the balcony.

  A large Shiba ran outside and jumped to your lap as soon as it saw you by the driveway.

  Wataru heard Chiaki stir at the back of the car.

  “Pay up, asshole,” he grunted, waking a disheveled Ryota who’s still holding a half-bitten melon bread.

  His lackey cracked his neck and gave the scenery a cursory glance. “Could be a front.”

  Ryota grumbled and went back to sleep.

  “Idiot,” Chiaki clicked his tongue. “She traveled all the way to Miyagi just to give intel? And here? Of all places?”

  Three days. 

  They’ve tailed you for three days. Akaashi-san never said anything else, besides that within the week, while he’s gone and sealing deals in another country, there was a high likelihood of you folding and getting out of Tokyo. 

  To run right here. In Miyagi.

  He didn’t say why, really, but Wataru supposes it’s better that he didn’t. Because during the days of absolute, mind-crushing boredom, of watching some suburban wife go out for a morning walk, chat with her neighbors, and shop around the market, rinse and repeat, coming up with the Why had been their only salvation.

  The betting pool has two answers: cheater or snitch.

  Chiaki was insistent on the former, while Ryota stood by the latter. 

  And Wataru...Wataru could only watch, waiting with a bated breath as the door finally opened.

  “I bet it’s someone younger,” Chiaki said. “Usually is.”

  Seems that none of them were winning anything today.

  The man who emerged from the house was far older— who, oddly enough, resembled you. An  old woman soon followed behind him. Both of them looked at you as if they were witnessing a specter, or someone who's crawled back from the dead. An appropriate comparison, especially since they’re both wearing somber black clothes.

  It wasn’t his place to assume. Though he’s been promoted to a slightly higher position, it will never come close to the place that Keiji Akaashi occupies. Wataru knows all of these, but nothing was stopping him from putting the pieces together, no matter what little he has.

  They could only stare when all of you broke down into tears, locked in each other’s embrace as you knelt on the pavement. 

  Don’t let her stay too long.

  That had been one of Akaashi-san’s orders.

  So the three of them didn’t wait it out. By the time that the sun had set, Wataru had already stepped out of the car, taking Ryota with him. He made sure to remind the boy, just in case he’d forgotten.

  “Be gentle, alright?” Wataru reiterated.

  There hadn’t been any need for that, it turned out. 

  He’s sure you’ve never met before, but Wataru saw bitter understanding flash in your eyes when you caught them loitering in front of your house. Fear was there, too, of course. 

  Wataru was convinced that surely it’s a good thing. It saved everyone a lot of time, that way.

  You didn’t even say a word, only giving Wataru a stiff nod when he’d introduced himself, and remained like so on the ride back to Tokyo, with the strap of your handbag trapped by a clenched fist. Wataru didn’t try to initiate small talk; it felt unnecessary.

  It took a while for Wataru to realize that you also hadn’t bothered to change out of your pajamas, though he gave you a couple of minutes to say your farewells. 

  Pajamas, obscured now by a thick, gray coat. 

  Akaashi-san was right.

  You had no plans of coming home. Not tonight. Maybe not for a while.

  Wataru decided not to linger on it anymore. 

  He ignored the blank stare that pierced right through the rear-view mirror. And then, Wataru wondered, hand sweating in his pocket, what the three of them should have for dinner.

Thick chunks of pumpkin melted in your mouth with just the first spoonful of broth. 

  It'd been a while since the last time Akaashi cooked. So, more than anything, it was the sight of him setting plates and utensils that took you aback, greeting you with a, "Welcome home. You're just in time. Food's ready," his sleeves rolled to his elbows while donning your baby owl-printed apron. 

  The taste didn't. Surprise you, that is. He's a good cook. Unlike you, who only became marginally better one hundred burn scars later. 

  It also didn't surprise you that he flew back home at the drop of a hat. Even when he said he'd be gone for a week.

  "How is it?" Akaashi asked after chewing. "Took me a while to make it."

  It obviously did, you thought. When you arrived, Irma Thomas was already begging through the record player.

  "Do you need me, like I need you?" she implored, straight from the heart. "Look at me, I'm crying from holding you." 

  The last song on your favorite record. It was cheap and had the best from the artists you loved. 

  Etta James. Ella Fitzgerald. Aretha Franklin. The Mills Brothers. Bessie Smith. All in one vinyl.

  "Yeah," you replied, clearing your throat when you realized how hard it is to speak. "It's delicious."

  You looked back down to your bowl. The  tofu had gone untouched. Your food was still close to spilling to the brim, while Akaashi was almost finished with his, scrolling on his phone laid on the table.

  "So no one coaxed you into it," you heard him say, and that had ripped your eyes away from the broth like a bandage on an infected wound.

  Akaashi was holding your phone, reading the messages- his number was the only one there, as pealing bells resonated in the dining room. 

  "I'd think of all the things that I wanted of you," cried Irma Thomas. "To make me forget the pain that you caused."

  "I would've known if anyone else talked to you, anyway," he huffed, locking the screen before blowing steam off the morsel. 

  "You would," you conceded. The tofu was soft when you bit into it, sinking into your teeth.

  "I found that in our cabinet. Last time it was in the kitchen drawer, wasn't it?" Akaashi helped himself to a bowl of rice. "Don't leave it in stuffy places. What if you forget where you hid it and you won't know when I call?"

  "And I can no longer keep track of where you are for every moment of the day?" you could hear him say. Though he didn't; though all that could heard, besides the scraping of utensils, was Irma Thomas declaring:

  A fragile thing, like life. It just don't last so long.

  It could be for a minute or an hour. Or then again, from now.

  Your lips tightened with a grin. "I won't do it again, sweetheart," you said, spoon hanging limply in your hold.    

  He didn't need to say it. 

  That your phone has a tracker. That this house is still the same cage that it'd been before. That the only difference between then and now is that silver band on your finger.

  Akaashi’s blinked back at you as he sipped  what remained of the soup. You tried to do the same.

  The savory taste was cloying and it burned in your throat, so you didn't attempt to finish the bowl. It cut down to your heart, sinking heavily on your stomach, bile rising as the song came to a close.

  You gulped it down, though. You had to. And in the final moments, Irma Thompson told you what she really wanted. 

  "Make me forget," she said, "the pain that you'd caused."

  The chorus joined her. "Understanding is a great thing," she concluded. "If it comes from the heart."

  Akaashi was on his own phone this time. Most likely checking on the business that he left, judging by those furrowed brows and that long-suffering look in his eyes.   

  Fizzling noise came at the heels of the fading music. Then, it stopped. And there was nothing left anymore but silence.

  It's over now. Akaashi’s making a move to clean up. You were supposed to say, "That was a lovely dinner, honey." Or, you could tell him to sit down and watch a movie with you when he's done. 

  "I'll help you with the dishes," you wanted to say. 

  I'll help you with the dishes. It was so easy to say. 

  Instead, what came out of your mouth was a hushed call for his name.

  "Kei-kun," you repeated, brittle and weak and dry.  

  "I'm so sorry," you might've mouthed. 

  You could barely hear your own voice as you looked at him. Akaashi paused from tidying the table. 

  You're parched and a lot has happened today. Gathering the courage to take that first step out of the city had taken what little strength you had. The fear never left you. Seeing your old house almost ended you. 

  It should be physically impossible for you to still be able to cry. And yet there doesn't seem to be an end to your tears now, the same way your apologies unfurled in an embarrassingly infinite string.

  "Don't lock me inside here again," you whispered, clinging to him as he shushed you, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs as he helped you drink a glass of water.

  He carried you to your room and sat you down on the bed, right between his thighs. You sobbed into your hands, tears and snot on the sleeves of your pajama top.

  "I- I just wanted to see them. That's all. Just one day, Kei-kun. One day. I was gonna come back, I swear." 

  You're rambling. You're a madwoman pleading and bargaining with a stone-cold judge because playing house is the only thing keeping her alive. 

  And you messed that up you foolish, foolish girl.

  "Please don't hurt my family," you heaved. "They're all I have left."

  Akaashi doesn't speak, not for a while, but when he did, you bawled harder.

  "I can kill them all," he said, matter of factly. 

  It is true. Hearing him say it does not make it easier to take, though. 

  "I can hurt you the same way that you hurt me."

  Your neck strained as he tipped your chin towards him with a slender finger. 

  "I can break you," he muttered, not batting an eye.

  That, too, is true. You know it all too well. He said it with such serenity, still and undisturbed by the shaking of your head, because it goes without saying. 

  Except, you, too, know it. 

  When he is breaking. When he is falling apart.

  He smothered you, taking your entire body to curl against you, making himself small as he pressed his face on your back.

  "Yet- and yet I-" Akaashi sniffled. You felt your shirt dampen. "I've given you everything."

  When he finally brought his face close to yours, he looked so lost. Almost like a little boy who's on the verge of drowning,  clinging desperately onto a lifesaver and too shocked to shout for help. 

  You hated him all the more for it.

  "Each other," he said, snarling, almost, through tears as he grabbed your face with both hands. "That's all we have left, you hear? You and I. Husband and wife."

  He seized your jaw and turned it towards the vanity mirror.

  The room was dark save for the light in the hallway, peeking into the crack through the doorway. 

  But you could see yourself. And you could see your hand intertwined in his, your rings gleaming like muted starlights. 

  "We made a vow," he whispered, kissing your ring finger. 

  A detached part of you is astonished with how inescapable it is. Whether it be a reward or a punishment; a good day or a bad one.

  No matter what happens, you always end up like this, don't you? 

  Begging to him with your legs spread wide.

  You did as you'd always done when he began unbuttoning your top. 

  You go back to that autumn morning, when you first laid your eyes on him, a cup of coffee in his hand, and you thought that he had the prettiest face you'd ever seen.

  You go back to when he was just this really romantic guy who sent you flowers every day. There was a letter, every time. 

  Nothing too grandiose. Just short messages hoping that you'd have a great day ahead.

  He kissed your neck, wet smooches and long, flat-tongued licks dipping down your shoulder.

  He watched you through the mirror, his eyes a pair of darkened blues daring you to look away.

  Akaashi Keiji was your boyfriend, you told yourself. You dated him for quite some time before you married.

  Akaashi Keiji got along well with your father and doted on your mother. On Sundays, you visit them and they send you back to Tokyo with ripe watermelons. 

  Akaashi Keiji has never hurt you.

  The man tracing the hem of your bra, cupping your clothed tits and drawing lazy circles over nipples, however, did.

  (And he still will in future. He still is, right now.)

  This man is the real one. 

  And you have angered him, so he will not make this easy for you.

  "What did you promise me?" Akaashi whispered as he lightly bit the shell of your ear. "Or have you forgotten?"

  Of course, you haven't forgotten. You were chained to this very room when you made them, after all.

  "N-no, I remember," you said, catching your breath. "I remember, Kei-kun."

  "Then say it," he said. "Look at me."

  You shivered as his palms swept over your  stomach; as he unfastened your bra, letting it fall down your arms.

  "Look at me when you say it."

  You felt your nipples harden, gooseprickles spread all over you, as the air hit your bare skin, cooling the sweat that made it glisten.

  "Please," he rasped.

  The eyes of the woman in the mirror was hooded, threatening to close as she puffed with each squeeze and caress to her tits, swiveling her hips against her husband’s crotch as he grinded into her. 

  "I will be happy," she said.

  Akaashi nuzzled your temple, using his rough fingers to tease your nipples just as he did, brushing them to and fro, then grazing the bumpy skin around until you're squeaking out his name. 

  And when he began pressing down on the stiff peaks with his thumbs, before rolling and pulling at them, the heels of his palm digging into your tits, you saw the woman claw at her husband's hair, a graceless affair that almost scratched his eye out, making him reach for both her arms to wrap them around his neck. 

  "I- I will..!" Her lips parted in a breathless scream and it was disgusting how lewd she appeared. "I will not run away!"

  The streak of tears on his cheeks touched yours when he kissed you. His lips were soft and warm, his wet tongue gliding in so slowly as he deepened the kiss with a throaty groan.

  His other hand crawled down to your soaked panties. You couldn't contain the mewl that left you.

  Both of you gasped and struggled to breathe again after you parted from each other.  

  "You understand, don't you?" he rasped.   

  Two of his fingers slid down your folds, only to slither back up, then down again, smearing your cunt with its own slick.

  But he never touched your swollen clit, even though it's throbbing and aching to be rubbed and the hard bulge sitting between your ass grew harder the more you squirmed in his hold, whimpering like a bitch in heat.  

  You heard your husband sigh, his hot breath tickling you when he said, "This isn't about you now."

Belly pushed into the edge of the dressing table, rattling and battering against the wall with each forceful thrust, and your leg perched atop it, made numb by Akaashi's grip on your thigh.

  That was the first thing that you could recall when you opened your eyes.

  But your entire body was screaming in pain, so you knew that everything else that happened last night would come back to you soon enough.

  The flesh had a memory of its own. 

  You sat up with a groan and you didn't have to see the marks to know.

  His teeth were still nipping at you, biting you until they drew blood, only to follow with an apologetic lapping of his tongue. 

  You could feel him beneath you, his hands clawing you down to him, palms kneading your ass cheeks as you bounced up and down on his cock.

  You could feel him above you, gripping your wrists not unlike the cuffs that once kept you shackled. He had your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling you close to him, filling you up with loads and loads of cum, squelching every time he sank down your weeping hole.

  And when your vision began to blur at the edges, he carried your body, mere seconds into fainting, to the dressing table. 

  The evidence of that stared back at you in shameful streaks and smudges, traces of your fingers on the mirror when he rammed your cunt from behind.

  "Are you happy?" Akaashi whispered.

  You don't know. 

  When he's just your husband who comes home to your arms and brings you sweets because he knows how much you love them; who dances with you in the kitchen and listens intently to you when you talk about that cute dog you saw at the park, were you happy, then?

  You don't know, but the woman in the mirror, in that moment, surely was.

  She even said, "Yes, yes, Kei-kun, right there, fuck me right there!"

  Her pupils were blown wide, eyes rolling almost over to the back of her head. And despite the cries that escaped her, there was a wide, dissipated smile on her lips,  spit trailing down her chin.

  "Look at you," Akaashi said, grunting when your walls tightened around his shaft. "You're clearly happy with me."

  "So why? Why'd you even think of leaving?" He rocked his hips, grinding his thick cock against that spot that had you holding onto the mirror. "Don't ever do that to me again." 

  You told him no, no, you won't run away again, but it didn't seem to placate his unease, nor his tears.

  "I'm so scared, everyday, that you'll leave me and- and- it feels like hell. I would rather die." 

  He kissed your nape as he huffed and said, "Because I don't know what I'll do without you."

  You never really understood why; what about you had caused him to single you out in the sea of people that had vied for his attention. Especially now as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

  There were dark circles under your eyes and Akaashi’s t-shirt was rumpled on your body, engulfing you whole with its size— a far cry from that lovely, dazzling bride that his best friend, Bokuto, had described you as on your wedding day. 

  But you’re aware, more than anyone, that Akaashi Keiji is the last person to care about appearances. 

  When he entered the room, carrying a tray in his hands, he gazed at that disheveled girl with eyebags big enough to be dragged around the same way he looked at her when he waited for her at the end of the aisle.

  “I made you pancakes,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he sat down beside you.

  You were tired so it didn’t dawn on you as quickly as it should that he made them the way you preferred. Four fluffy pieces stacked atop one another, sprinkled with powdered sugar, whipped cream and a smattering of berries on the side.

  He fiddled with his fingers when you only stared at it, so you immediately took the fork in your hand and sliced the pancake in half.

  “I’ll be taking some time off work,” Akaashi said as you took the food in your mouth. You only nodded, having noticed that he wasn’t wearing the usual bespoke suit as soon as he entered the room.

  You felt him near you; felt his hand, warm to touch, cup your face.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His eyes were misty and, this close, it seemed that he, too, wasn’t in a good shape. “So please-” Akaashi licked his chapped lips, “Please don’t go.”

  “I won’t,” you replied, giving him the smile that you knew he needed. “I promise.”

  Then, as you moved to kiss him on the cheek, the chains that tethered you to the bedpost clinked softly beneath the blanket, and you didn’t bother to keep the tears at the bay.

  Akaashi wiped them for you when you said that you loved him. And when he asked why, you only shrugged and told him that the pancakes were so sweet that they could make anyone cry. 

[fromthedeskoftheraven]

Always kiss me goodnight

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Content:  Pining, kissing, mention of food, oh no there’s only one bed,   helmetless Din (but it’s dark), baby Yoda is an adorable tiny terror

Word count: ~2200

Note:  I swear I was only going to write one Pedro character fic. Has this   kind of thing been done a million times? Yes. Am I doing it once more?   Also yes. It’s self-indulgent hours and this little love letter to our favorite space dad and his green baby has been nagging at my mind since I  first watched the show.

Tagging the people who asked (If anyone wants to be tagged or un-tagged in any future fics since it seems  I’m well and truly back on my bs just say the word): @songsformonkeys @yespolkadotkitty @emesispo @beccaplaying

———————————————

Fatigue has caught up with the little green child now that his belly is full, and crankiness along with it. The Mandalorian has been known to lovingly  call his adopted son a womp rat, but when the baby gets overtired, a rancor is more like it.

This time, you can hardly blame him. The three of you have spent the better part of the day traveling, finally landing on this backwater planet late in the evening. With some searching and a small fortune in credits, Din managed to find a safe, out-of-the-way place to stay, leaving you and the child to eat and settle in while he went to scout the bounty’s location for the next  day’s work.

As the child’s fussing gains momentum, you hustle to the small sink in the corner of the room.

“We’ll wash your face and go straight to bed,” you promise him, letting the   water warm before wetting a cloth and wringing it out thoroughly.

In the mirror, your own face looks as exhausted as he obviously feels. The bed in question is little more than a pallet with a mattress and some  blankets, but it might as well be a royal welcome at this stage of the game.

Despite your gentleness, the baby erupts in an indignant whine as you wipe the cloth over his face and ears. “I know, little love,” you soothe while he struggles in protest. “Almost done.”

He quiets when you scoop him up into your arms, pressing a kiss to his fuzzy head. You hum bits of a song from your childhood, rocking him from side to side, and his little face crumples with a yawn. His tiny fingers curl into the fabric of your tunic and his head goes heavy on your shoulder, but still he fidgets, making pathetic little sounds in the direction of the door.

“I know,” you murmur again, still swaying on the spot. “He’ll be back soon.”

You’ve grown to love the child and you know he’s fond of you, but as far as   he’s concerned Din is the one who hangs the stars in the sky. He’s always a little agitated when his father is out of sight, and truth be told, so are you.

“I know what we can do,” you say. “Let’s make a plate for your buir for when he comes back. Don’t you think that’ll be nice for him?”

Neither you nor Din are sure how much the child actually understands, but you don’t let it stop you talking to him. If nothing else it makes you feel a little less alone in the long hours when Din is hunting his quarries.

His drooping ears twitch upward with this suggestion. He watches with interest as you lay a plate with some of the fresh fruit, bread, and stewed meat Din bought from the innkeeper for your supper.

“There we go. Now then, bedtime for little ones.”

You turn to survey the sleeping area with a stab of nerves. The minuscule size of the room isn’t a challenge -- the Razor Crest has made you an expert in living in small spaces -- but the lone bed is a wrinkle you hadn’t expected.

Din, ever pragmatic, had been quick to point out that it was plenty big enough for the three of you, and it was only one night. He was right, of course.

Still, you’d never been so grateful for dim lighting, sure that your secret longing for the Mandalorian was written plainly on your flustered face.

You couldn’t have said exactly when your feelings for Din Djarin had strayed  into dangerous territory. Somewhere in the months of traveling with him, caring for his child, helping maintain his ship, reminding him to eat, and tending the worst of his wounds your initial wariness turned to admiration, admiration to fondness, and fondness to something alarmingly like love.

It’s a fool’s errand.

For all his kindness to you Din is an island of a man, set apart from the world in  his shell of beskar and the even more unyielding armor of his creed.  Even if his heart is big enough to encompass the child, you don’t dare to hope there’s room for you too.

And now this bed -- this one kriffing bed -- sits there mocking you and all your silly fantasies of you and Din and the child being a real family, bound together by love instead of convenience.

You turn off the light overhead, leaving only the small, sickly lamp at the table to light Din’s way to his supper.

The mattress is clean and the blankets are a bit threadbare but soft, and the baby only has the energy to grumble a little when you lay him down on the side closest to the wall and tuck the thickest of them around   him. Yawning widely, he stretches out a hand toward you, fingers grabbing at the air.

The gesture warms your weary heart.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

You lie down beside him and face away from the table, mindful that Din will need privacy to eat. The little body shuffles closer to you, curling into your shoulder, and a surge of fierce affection pricks your eyes with tears. You wrap your arm around the baby to hold him close as the full brunt of the long day overtakes you.

“Good night, little love,” you say around a yawn, just as your eyes fall closed.

***

You wake with a start. The windowless room is pitch black, and in the absence of any landmarks your brain races to orient itself.

At your back, the child’s soft, snuffling breaths. A well-worn blanket draped over you and a slightly lumpy mattress beneath.

The inn, you remember in a flash.

At your front...something warm and broad and solid. You’ve nestled into it  in your sleep, one arm thrown over it, your hand grasping soft fabric. A familiar, comforting scent surrounds you, a scent you cherish from laundry days and the cramped quarters of a small ship.

Oh, Maker.

You clearly slept through Din coming back and getting into bed, and now you’re wrapped around him like a second set of clothes. The rush of blood into your cheeks flames so hot you worry he must feel it through the base layers he’s wearing to sleep.

Shrinking into yourself, you begin to pull away, as stealthily as you can. If you  can just get back to your own side of the bed and brazen it out in the  morning, maybe he’ll never be the wiser.

Slowly, so slowly, you  release the handful of his shirt you’re holding and move your arm from where it’s resting across his chest...

In the darkness, a hand encircles your wrist.

Oh, Maker.

You’ve watched Din wrestle enough uncooperative bounties into the carbonite   chamber to know you’re not getting away from him if he doesn’t want you to. But his grip on your wrist is light, gentle. His thumb rests on the place where your pulse is fluttering like a trapped bird, whether from embarrassment or his closeness you’re not entirely sure.

“Din.” It comes out barely a whisper, sabotaged by the sudden dryness of your mouth. You swallow hard and try again. “Din, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s all right.”

His voice is a revelation. Free of the modulator’s rasp, it’s warmer, richer, somehow softer and more resonant at the same time. You’ve never even been in the same room with him when he has his helmet off, and the realization that he’s right there, a breath away, is dizzying.

Silence stretches before he speaks again, more quietly. “It’s...nice.”

Your brain fails you entirely. “Oh.”

You search desperately for something more intelligent to say, but his thumb is drawing feather-light circles over the soft skin of your wrist and your pulse is thundering in your ears. Those touches, so delicate from a man so strong, blur your thoughts like liquor and drag a confession from your lips before you can bite it back. “I’ve always wanted to hold you.”

You wait, blessing the darkness that swallows your shame,  and hope he’s not going to tell you to pack your things and find a job in this bleak little skug hole for when he leaves you behind.

Instead, you feel the mattress shift and know he’s turned toward you.

The sudden fear of breaking Din’s creed is overwhelming, even in the dark. Instinct has you squeezing your eyes shut so tightly that white specks float behind your eyelids.

“I can’t see you,” you say quickly. “I promise.”

“I know.”

His thumb moves from your wrist across your palm, uncurling your fingers to map each one in turn, trailing up to the tips and back down again. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s touched anyone’s bare skin.

He sighs, which is nothing new, but this one doesn’t sound exasperated. It sounds almost...content. “Mesh’la,” he murmurs. “Beautiful girl. I thought so the first time I saw you.”

You’re overcome with a wild, childish urge to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming.

His praise gives you a rush of courage to ask for something you’ve only dreamed of. “Din...can I touch you? Is it allowed?”

His only answer is to cradle your hand in his, bringing it to rest on his cheek.

Stubble prickles your palm as your fingers slowly trace his scruffy jawline and the thick column of his neck, savoring the feel of him. His hair is soft, long enough to curl at its nape, and when you comb your fingers through the tousled strands he makes a low, strangled sound in the back of his throat. It reverberates through your body like a bell, making your head swim with the thrill of affecting him.

You only just resist the urge to suck a mark into the spot where his pulse races under his warm skin.

Your greedy hands move on to discover a strong brow and the curved bridge of a prominent nose. A mustache frames lips that are more plush than you imagined, a note of sensuality in an angular, warrior’s face.

“Can you tell me what color your eyes are?” you ask, fingertips traveling over his cheekbone.

“Brown.”

Brown. You see them in your mind’s eye, soft and dark, expressing all the   things he doesn’t say out loud. Stroking his lower lip, you repeat his own word back to him: “Mesh’la.”

Din’s mouth twitches under your fingers. “You can’t see me.”

He has no idea. His body warming yours and the sweetness of his voice   calling you beautiful is everything you’ve ever wanted and thought yourself unworthy of having, and he thinks you’re only talking about his  face.

You cup his cheek, smile at him, even though he can’t see it. “I don’t need to, Din. I just know it. I always have.”

“You’re so good to me.” His hand catches yours in his large one, his voice   rough with some nameless emotion. “To me, and the baby. All the time.”

“You deserve everything good,” you whisper past the lump in your throat.

He’s caressing your hand again, holding it in place to press his lips to the pad of your thumb. “I want to kiss you, cyare.”

Your exhale is somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Please.”

His hand moves to cradle your head as he closes the distance between you. If you were expecting him to pounce, you’re completely unprepared for him to linger, breath hovering over your lips for a long, agonizing moment as he brushes his nose over yours.

You’re almost startled by the first touch of his lips, a little chapped but warm and lush. His mustache is softer than you thought it would be, and so are his kisses, a series of slow, gentle presses of his mouth. Like he wants to do with his lips what you’ve done with your hands, sketching and learning.

It’s only when you slide your hand into his hair again that something inside him breaks. His arm snakes around your waist, holding you to the refuge of his broad chest as he slants his mouth over yours, claiming you in earnest. He’s possessive and tender in equal measure and the tease of  his tongue against yours, his teeth nipping your lower lip, the span of his hand on your back has you drunk on him and whispering his name between kisses like a prayer.

...Apparently not quietly enough.

A little hand scrabbling at your shoulder blade brings you out of your haze. As you pull away from Din the baby is climbing over you as quickly as his short limbs will let him. He wedges himself between the two of you with a delighted coo at Din, hands flailing to find his father’s face.

Din heaves a sigh, but there’s no malice in it. “I’m here, ad’ika,” he says, with unmistakable fondness. “We’re all here.”

You can’t stifle a breathless laugh as the baby snuggles into Din’s arms, making himself comfortable for the night.

Your Mandalorian surrenders good-naturedly, wrapping an arm around you with  the child tucked safely in the middle. He presses a kiss to your forehead before settling on the pillow beside you. “Sleep, cyare.”

Drowsiness is already fuzzing the edges of your mind again, but it catches on the word he’s said twice now. “What does that mean?” you murmur. “Cyare?”

You feel him smile against your temple, one last brush of his lips. “Share my bunk tomorrow night, and I’ll tell you.”

[hangovercurse]

Full House

Rook gets home from the hospital and life in the Baker-Cappelletty house is more hectic than ever.

Requests: “Can I get a JP Cappelletty imagine where you have help take care of him after his accident (at home) please”

“Idk if I’ve sent this one or not but can I have a Rook imagine where you take care of him after his accident and you have a daughter and live with Colson and how your life is then and maybe Colson helps out please (sorry if that’s a lot)”

Rook x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, implied smut, mentions of Rook’s accident

Word Count: 1459

“Look who’s home, Cameryn!” You cheered to your 2-year-old daughter, “Is that grandpa and daddy?” You picked her up so she could see through the window you were looking out of and then carried her to the front door.

Colson rushed over to the door and opened it for you, following you out, and then walked over to meet Rook and Johnny, who were still working on getting all of Rook’s things out of the car. You watched Colson’s interactions with your boyfriend as you moved over to them, Cameryn still in your arms.

Rook lit up when he saw her, “Hey princess.” He reached his arms up as you moved to set her on his lap, “other princess.” You pressed a quick peck on his mouth, a small smile spreading across your features. Your daughter squealed in excitement, having only been to see Rook once while he was in the hospital.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay with you guys for a couple days?” Johnny asked, Rook’s bag slung over his shoulder and a folder full of paperwork in one hand. You moved to grab the back of Rook’s wheelchair, only to be waved away by Colson, who was also attempting to take the position.

You smiled at the man, “We’ll be fine. You should go home; you’ve spent the past week in a hospital. We can take care of him now.”

Colson piped in, “besides, I’m here. I’ll take great care of Rookie!” There was obvious mischief in his voice, but you knew from years of living with Colson that he’d be there when it came down to it.

You grabbed the backpack and folder from Rook’s dad as Rook spoke, “Dad, I’m good. Go home, please.” Johnny reluctantly agreed, giving into the fatigue that was coursing through his body telling him to go to sleep in a real bed.

“Alright, text me if you need anything.” He moved to Rook’s side, picking up your daughter, who was poking at her dad’s new hand braces. “Bye bye, Cameryn,” he said, tickling her sides and making her scream with laughter.

“Bye, bye grandpa.” She said once she had calmed down, waving to him as she was placed into Rook’s lap again.

Johnny laughed, “she’s getting a lot better.”

Rook smiled down at her, “yeah she is. We were worried for a while because she wouldn’t talk, but now that’s all she wants to do.” He poked her sides gently, making her laugh.

“Alright, by kiddos. Goodluck with those three, Y/N.” Johnny waved as he got into his car.

You laughed, “thanks, I’ll need it.”

 Later that night you were trying to figure out how to manage life with one less pair of legs in the house. Luckily, Cameryn was having one of her calmer days and didn’t require the attention of three adults. She had sat on the couch with Rook most of the day, playing with various toys and being entertained by her father. You and Colson took turns in the room, making sure that Cameryn was returned to the couch if she ever ran off.

“Hide and seek?” Cameryn asked Rook while you prepared dinner in the kitchen. She had been on a kick with the game lately since Slim and Colson had taught her last week.

Rook sighed, “I can’t play hide and seek, kiddo. Maybe uncle Colson will play with you.”

Cameryn whined, “no! Play with you.”

“I can’t play, princess, my leg hurts. See?” He pointed to the boot on his foot with a frown.

Cameryn insisted, “hide and seek!”

You sighed, stepping away from the kitchen and peering into the room, “Cam, daddy can’t play hide and seek right now. Why don’t you ask Uncle Colson? Or play something else.”

Her lip started quivering and both you and Rook went into panic mode, trying to prevent the tantrum that was coming. “Wanna play!” She cried, starting to bounce up and down on the couch angrily. Rook tried his best to calm her down, but there wasn’t much he could do to stop her movements.

You moved towards her, only to be stopped by Kells. “I got this,” he whispered, “finish dinner and take a break, you’ve earned it.”

You smiled as you watched him scoop up Cameryn, bouncing her lightly in his arms to make her calm down. “Hey, Cameryn, let’s go play with some of your toys, yeah?”

Once the girl had left the room, you turned your attention to Rook, who was sporting a frown. “This fucking sucks,” he murmured, “I can’t do anything, can’t even take care of my own fucking daughter.”

You moved over to him quickly after checking that nothing would burn in your absence, “I don’t know if you were aware, but you got hit by a car, which is pretty badass.” You took a seat next to him, running a hand up his arm, “I know it sucks right now, but you’re not gonna be like this forever. And Cameryn will learn, she’s smart.”

Rook pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “she gets that from you.” You rolled your eyes at his lame words, standing up to move back to the kitchen.

“I don’t know what you think flattery is going to get you, but I promise it’s not going to work.” You called.

He chuckled, “damn, was hoping it’d get me another kid.” You rolled your eyes, picking a pillow off the couch as you walked by and chucking it at him.

 After the first week, you’d settled into an easy routine with Rook being out of commission. Luckily, you and Colson both worked from home, so you were only ever a shout away from your needy toddler and needy boyfriend.

The two of them ended up making quite the team against you and Colson, constantly whining for things because they were unable to get whatever it was for themselves. Most days, Rook kept Cameryn on the couch, reading to her and trying to teach her new words. Then Colson would take her outside to run around, something that Rook would normally do. You’d bring them all food whenever you could get a break, and as soon as you were finished with work, you’d plop yourself next to Rook on whatever piece of furniture he’d chosen to lounge on that day.

Today, he hadn’t had the energy to get out of your bed and move to the couch, so that’s where you joined him. Cameryn was on his lap, crawling over the bed to you once you’d settled in. “Hey you,” you said softly, “you’ve been good for daddy?”

Cameryn nodded firmly while Rook spoke, “we learned all about penguins and seals today. She loved them so much that she made me read the same book about them 5 times.” You giggled at his expression, “and then we watched lots of TV and took a nap.”

You hummed, “yeah? Did you work on any of those leg exercises the doctors gave you?”

Rook smiled, eager to show off his work, “Cameryn did them too. We did some leg lifts and we bent our knees, didn’t we?” The girl giggled when his attention shifted to her, “We’re still good to go back to the hospital tomorrow for that checkup, right?”

You pressed a kiss against his cheek, “yep. Colson’s gonna watch Cam for the day so we’re good.” Your hand reached out to stroke Cameryn’s hair lightly, “I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

Colson stuck his head in the room, “you’d die.” He laughed as he moved further into the room, plopping onto the bed next to Rook’s feet. “I was not listening to your conversation, I just happened to hear my name and you know I have a big ego.”

Rook rolled his eyes, “if I had a good foot, I would kick you right now.”

Colson laughed, grabbing Cameryn from you, and flipping her so she was hanging upside down over his shoulder. “I’m taking her for the night so you two can finally have some alone time.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you both suggestively, walking out of the room. “How does ice cream for dinner sound, Cam?”

The girl cheered as you sighed, leaning further into Rook, and letting the tension out of your shoulders. He used two fingers to move your jaw so you were facing him, leaning down, and kissing you deeply. Once you pulled away you let your forehead rest against his own, noses brushing against each other. It was quiet for a minute, you and Rook basking in each other’s presence. “You know you’re gonna have to top, right?”

You chuckled, pulling away from him. “Way to ruin the moment, loser.”

Taglist

@bakerkells @elviablo​ @iambashfulperson @sunflowerbebe107 @crystalbaby12 @stormrider505 @bowwowzer @mvrylee @daddyavesxx​ @pettyvxbes​

[kira-fluff]

Hello! Have you done headcanons for a MC that is a really good artist? Like, that's what she loves and hopes to make a career out of it? (For the RFA, V, And Saeran?) thankyou! Bye bye! \ ^-^ /

a/n: I LOOOVEE this idea! As a passionate artist myself, this one hits home :) As you probably know, I’ve updated my rules, since you specified 2, I will pick 2 from the RFA :) Again, let me know if you’d like to have different characters than the ones I picked! I went for MC instead of Y/n this time. Let me know what you think. Thanks! 

Also, this is pre-relationship and it may or may not have turned into a confession headcanon oh gosh 

- 

MC is an Artist +Confession bonus��

V +bonus confession 

As a fellow artist, V would be incredibly proud of you 

Even though he might sometimes have trouble saying it 

V has always showed actions above his words 

You’d quickly gathered this from his lack of communication with the RFA chat and text messages between the two of you in general 

But you understood him, in a way 

You related to the freedom he felt whenever he expressed himself through his photography 

Because you felt that same feelings when you painted 

You were incredibly inspired by Beatrix Potter, your memories of her various artworks inspiring you to do the same 

You adored nature just as much as V did 

Together, you both made a beautiful pair 

You wore an adorable flower-patterned, yellow sun dress

A beige sunhat you held to your head with a hand, carrying your brushes and paint palette

Him, dressed smartly in a sweater with khaki pants 

 V could carry your easel for you, his professional photography bag slung around his shoulder. 

You’d laugh, turning around to look at him, the wind blowing in your face, urging him to “Come on!” 

V had never thought you more beautiful than the time you’d accidentally tripped into a meadow of freesias, scattering them every which way 

You gasped, whipping out your pocket book, etching down the scene before you 

After a measurable silence, you looked over at V who had been quiet in taking pictures of you 

He keeps many copies of the pictures, putting one in his wallet and other places he’d look frequently just to make him smile 

He’d never let others besides himself see them, but they were the most beautiful photos he’d ever taken, and this not just by his standards of your beauty 

You sometimes would catch yourself sketching him during your time outside with him, sitting in a quiet pasture 

The world’s creatures were your muse, but you couldn’t help yourself from taking every opportunity to capture V’s every expression

And maybe that’s when you realized you were completely and utterly in love with him. 

In those quiet times in the meadows, all along you were in love with him. 

When you’d caught V taking candids of you, you always would beg him to delete them, which he begrudgingly would, if you really begged him 

But.. other than that, you were positive V had no real feelings for you outside of a deep friendship. 

That must’ve done it. He knows.  

Because suddenly, V had become incredibly distant, flaking out of your naturalist escapades, becoming increasingly difficult to come in contact at all..

it was all pointing to the fact that he had realized how deeply you loved him. 

You in turn, pushed away everyone around you. 

Rejection hurt. So much. One does not truly understand it until they’ve felt it themselves. 

It came to a point where you had no more tears left to cry, you knew he was gone forever. 

Your love, your inspiration. 

All was gone. 

You hadn’t touched a paint brush in months 

You’d been skipping meals for a while, beginning to feel more and more fatigue because of it. 

It came to the point where all in the RFA (except V) had become so worried about you that they’d sent Jaehee and Yoosung over to check on you 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d checked your phone 

Your blinds and curtains had been shut for a subsequent amount of time. 

It had been weeks since you’d last changed your clothes, your hair was unkept. 

You stopped taking care of yourself completely, emptiness overtaking you. 

You had always had a dream of making artwork your career.. but just when your freelance career had begun to take off.. you lost everything. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to touch your paints or pocket book. It reminded you too much of him. 

You weren’t concerned about money, Rika’s apartment was already paid for and… well, with no real meal expenses, you didn’t feel any real purpose to continue. 

You heard a soft knock on the door. 

Instead of answering, you groaned, rolling over in your sheets – hoping if you ignored the knocking they’d assumed you weren’t home.

Any last grain of hope you’d had left you a long time ago. 

“….MC?” 

You slowly sat up in your bed. It was Yoosung. 

You instantly felt shame for ignoring them.. and looking, well, like this. 

“I’m coming in!” Came a loud shout, causing you to panic. 

Damn. Seven must’ve opened the apartment.  

Seven was concerned for you, given the surveillance footage, he couldn’t find almost any instances when you’d left your apartment. 

Given your apparent closeness, Seven shot a text to Yoosung, Jaehee, and of course, V. 

Yoosung and Jaehee replied in agreement and concern, V, however, said something very different. 

// V:  I’m sorry. I can’t go. >> [sent, 6:08am]

707: I thot the 2 of u were rly close. Did sth happen? >> [sent, 6:09am]

V: I’m selfish. I can’t see her anymore. >> [sent, 6:29am] 

707: ? >> 

707: > [sent, 6:29am]

read, 6:32am. //

You began to cry, embarrassed and ashamed, as Jaehee and Yoosung called your name throughout your hollow feeling apartment. 

Immediate concern covered their faces when they saw you teary eyed in your bed. 

“Oh, MC, hey, it’s going to be okay.”, Jaehee immediately held your head in her arms. 

She ordered Yoosung to get some food from your local convenience store

From there, she opted to begin cleaning you up. 

Jaehee didn’t want to force you to do or say anything, so she never asked questions – unless to ask whether you were comfortable taking a shower or perhaps, eating something later. 

You were not opposed to the help, rather, you felt indebted to them, feeling guilty for causing Jaehee, Yoosung, and likely Seven a great amount of trouble. 

Jaehee made quick work of stripping your bed sheets, stuffing in the laundry and opening the blinds, cleaning your room and dusting where necessary 

A part of her chastised herself for not doing so sooner, but she and the others were afraid that they’d be intruding on your right to take a social media break or something of the sort. 

Yoosung came back relatively quickly, a meal in hand, per Jaehee’s request. 

He made quick work of making his specialty – an omurice omelette. 

Jaehee continued to tidy up, checking up with you when she’d realized the apartment had gotten too silent

You at last stepped out of the shower, your hair taking on a glimmer, as if thanking you for taking care of it at last. 

You washed your face, trying to gather your thoughts as your shoved a crew-neck shirt over your head, opting for jeans and slippers as well. 

At last coming out of the bathroom, you at last made eye contact with Yoosung and Jaehee you began to cry again. 

Without hesitation, they rushed toward you for a hug, hushing you when you’d blubbered, “I’m sorry, thank you, I’m so sorry” in between dry heaves. 

After a quick call to Seven from Jaehee, Zen, Jumin and Saeyoung had made their way to your apartment as well. 

They each had their piece to share, kind words of encouragement and love. 

You were happy by their words, but… 

V wasn’t here. 

At last gaining confidence through their encouraging words, you ushered them to the large sofas that laid beneath your TV. 

Looking down, you said, “I-I’m sure you’re all wondering about V and I..” 

You didn’t dare look up when your sniffles began. 

You took a deep breath before beginning, “This is nothing to his fault, but….” your lip wobbled, “I believe.. I think he realized that I had completely fallen for him,” you laughed pathetically, “Still am”

Seven began, “MC–” 

“I don’t blame him, really, I never intended to tell him… it’s awkward.” 

Zen clenched his fist, “That asshole…” 

“And my friend” Jumin quickly rebutted. 

“P-please! I didn’t tell you this to make you dislike him or anything! I just felt like I owed you all an explanation…”, you begged.

Seven stared at you for a while before saying, “MC… V he’s– I think you should tell him properly.” 

Zen, ever the hot-head, stood up shouting, “And get her heart broken all over again?! How heartless can you be!” 

You smiled ingenuinely, “He’s right, Zen.” 

Before you could change your mind, you picked up your phone, and for what felt like years, you at last dialed V’s number. 

On the last ring, you heard sound that the caller had, picked up though there was no sound on the other line. 

Jumin and Yoosung ushered everyone out of the room, deciding to take a little stroll outside the apartment complex. 

After a moment of silence you started, “…..V?” 

You now heard him breathing on the other line.

“V, I know you’re there. Please…” You felt your voice wavering, “P-please… come to my apartment.”, you whispered a final, “please.” 

V was silent for what felt like hours before saying, “……..okay.” 

You hung up, attempting to mentally prepare yourself for the world of hurt you were about to endure again. 

After a long silence in which you’d zoned out, you suddenly heard the door bell ring. 

You glanced up. Only V ever used the doorbell.. always had. 

You slowly crept toward the door, taking deep breaths to calm your nerves. 

Gently opening the door a crack, you took in V. 

It had been a few months, but he looked so different. So…hollow. 

You moved for him to come inside, closing the door behind you. 

“Um, V, there’s something I need to tell you.” 

“You already know my answer.” 

You looked up, tears welling in your eyes, doing your best to ignore his statement. 

“V… I love you.” 

You’d never seen V so taken aback, his whole face grew pale. 

“Y-you love me?” 

“Have. For a long time.” 

You looked down, “You can go now.” 

Yet you didn’t hear a sound of movement. 

Looking up, V was still standing there, shocked. 

At last, you managed to hear the softest whisper, “All this time….”

You leaned in closer, “What?” 

“I- I loved you.. I love you. Since we’d first met. I-I thought you didn’t want a thing to do with me. Thought you’d figured out I’d fallen in love, so I distanced myself.. selfishly to try not to get hurt, but I still did. And all this time you felt the same.” 

You were now the stunned one. 

“Really?” 

V gently smiled at you, enveloping you in a tight hug, “Really.” 

Jumin +bonus confession 

You loved to create stories 

Various areas of fiction, watercolor splashing against crisp, white pages 

Telling a beautiful story in color 

And Jumin adored it. 

He adored you. 

He admired your deep passion to create and your love for everything. 

He couldn’t understand how you could see the beauty in everything around you… for Jumin, he tended to consider things in their degree of usefulness. 

For the longest time, his father and those around him had encouraged this mentality 

And so, Jumin rarely sought for things that would have no real purpose – his penthouse proved this point by its bare walls – void of artistic charm

It wasn’t until you’d met him through the RFA that you’d immediately brought a force of color into his life 

He remembered well the first time you’d come to his apartment 

You gently ran your soft fingers against the walls of his penthouse saying, “Mr. Han, I think you need some more color in your house. It looks like a hospital in here!” You turned to him, a playful smile on your face. 

The breath was knocked out of him. 

God, he could never say no to you. If you’d ask, he’d get you anything you’d ever need. 

But he loved that you didn’t appreciate that kind of affection. Jumin knew he immediately ran to gift giving for love because it was the only way he had been shown love throughout his life…. and, it didn’t really mean anything to him. 

Still, he desperately wanted to be helpful, so if you were ever in a financial struggle, he’d offer to assist you. 

You’d proudly decline, declaring you could do it all yourself. He liked that about you too. Your independence, your kindness. 

It didn’t take long for him to realize he had taken to you greatly. 

One day when you’d come over for a visit, while petting Elizabeth III, you said, “Hey, Jumin.. have you ever fallen in love before?” 

Tension filled the air while Jumin stared at you. 

How could MC be so blind. 

When it had been a few moments he’d not answered, you awkwardly said, “J-just kidding! I figured you’re probably engaged – that was a stupid question, sorry..” 

Jumin was stricken by your sudden uncertainty, but didn’t make anything of it. 

“I’m not engaged. Don’t listen to anything my father says regarding that. And to answer your question, I think I might have an idea of what that feels like.” 

His eyes bore into yours, but he of course missed the look of sorrow that’d taken over your eyes.  

He’d watch you paint all day if he had the time. 

He couldn’t understand how you could look at a blank sheet of paper and write something so poetically beautiful and paint a lovely picture to match 

It was all a part of his amazement of you. 

He could watch you for hours, humming to yourself while you played around with contrast colors for your watercolor pieces 

No other art had value quite like your own 

He encouraged you at every chance he got, “MC, you should go into the arts.” 

“That’s what I want to do! But, Dad says the arts aren’t a realistic job.”, you frowned. 

“That may have been true in some outdated decade, but in our world today people are always looking for something hand-made and authentic. When we research our products, we look for items that have a ‘signature’ to them. Trust me, people want your art not only because it is breath-taking.. but because you made it.” 

You smiled at that, Jumin was always one to put a rational thought forward for your consideration, something you’d cherished. 

“Besides, I think you’d be happy anywhere you can create.” 

You grinned, pulling him into a tight hug, “Thank you, Ju Ju.”

Staying close friends became increasingly difficult, but Jumin wasn’t going to risk losing his friendship with you because of feelings. 

So you surprised him when you began randomly, “Jumin, I think I’m in love with you, okay?” 

You made eye contact, doing your best to show you were serious. 

As soon as he realized you were authentic in your confession, you turned around and began sprinting, flying open the door to his penthouse 

Jumin immediately chased after you, both in a full sprint 

You screamed when you heard his breathing and steps behind you and so increased your speed 

You had at last reached a dead end, but Jumin was a ways behind you. 

You reached for the elevator button, furiously clicking it – thankfully it came on the first ding. 

You rushed inside, repeatedly tapping the door-closing button. 

You sighed at last when you felt the elevator moving up, gasping for air. 

You attempted to continue going up to the highest story, which happened to be 320, grateful that this damn skyscraper had a ton of floors. 

You froze when the door came to a stop at floor 13. You panicked, trying to force the doors not to open. 

In front of you was a random businessmen, looked slightly peeved at the long wait he must’ve had for the elegant glass elevator. 

You apologized, allowing him into the elevator along with a crowd of impatient people, some gorgeous women with a smart suit and long hair, their phone resting on their cheek next to their ear, some more businessmen, glancing anxiously at their watches. 

As the elevator climbed to floor 21, a heap of people acknowledged their stop, pressing out of the elevator shaft and onto the busy hallways of what appeared to be the finance department. 

You sighed, pressing more buttons to go up higher. 

You screeched when you felt a hand on both of your wrists, slamming you into the wall behind you. 

Jumin’s eyes were glowing from the slight sweat that was beginning to form on his brow 

He looked pissed. 

“Don’t. Ever. Run. Away. From me. Again.” 

You gazed up at him, a guilty expression clouding your face 

“S-sorry..”, you quickly looked away, not bearing to look at the anger in his expression, the way he clenched his jaw and his eyes took on a darker hue… brows knit together. He was really mad. 

“You didn’t let me answer.” He said, his voice deep. 

He leaned in closer.. you closed your eyes in anticipation. 

He breathed a laugh through his nose, resting his forehead on your collarbone and shoulder. 

You blushed in embarrassment. 

Suddenly, Jumin hugged you tightly, “I love you too, MC.” 

Zen

As a fellow artist, Zen was overjoyed to say the least when he found out about your love for singing 

Your social media accounts were growing rapidly from your posts of music covers and original songs 

You also had a deep love to playing the harp. 

It had taken a lot of coaxing to convince your father to let you pay half and he pay the other of the expense of a 200,000 Won pedal harp 

But you loved it so much 

And so does Zen 

He’d definitely insist on doing a collaboration with you 

After the recording session and upload, both your following counts grew rapidly 

Comments of all types flooded your posts: 

OMG!!! ZEN!! BEAUTIFUL ZEN!!

who’s the b*tch next to him? 

omg, right? 

ew lol 

AHHHH I LOVE YOU ZEN!!! 

MC looks so cute…

fyp!! 

ZEN AND MC WOULD MAKE SUCH A CUTE COUPLE AWEEEE 

I agree!! 귀엽다   (cute) 

Over the course of your social media endeavor, you’d learned to ignore the ruthless comments of jealous fans 

Zen was worried you’d taken them personally so he validated you a lot over the period that the video was a hit 

Zen wrote a song about you (which he definitely serenaded you with): 

“your passion, my passion one in the same this song – our communicator of my love to you. your smile each day this serenade a simple translator the time we have means so much i wouldn’t spend it any other way.” - radio wave COMMUNICATION by Zen 

The song overtook the song charts, making it’s way to the #1 spot in half a day 

You’d asked him, “Zen, are you going to make that a single? You are, aren’t you? Right?” 

“No, this is something for you and you only” 

You smiled at that, but said, “Zen, love like this deserves to be shared. This song will mean something so special to someone else, just like it means something to me. Music, what we do.. it was made to be shared.” 

Zen looked at you with stars in his eyes, taking you in a big hug. 

You truly were the kindest person he’d ever met.. and he loved you so, so much. 

Even though you may not have realized yet what the truth of his feelings were in his serenade, he knew he’d wait for the day in anticipation when he���d finally ask you to be his. 

Saeran

Saeran wasn’t personally one for dramatics, but he loved watching you perform  

You’d sing for all kinds of musicals – you’d act for a series of plays 

He loved it when you’d act in classics like Macbeth or The Phantom of the Opera

It felt like a safe place to forget everything in his life and just watch you 

But he hadn’t fallen for you for who you pretended to be, but for who you really are. 

You were shy – something he found surprising (but unbelievably adorable) because you were a well-known actress 

When you’d first met him, you were walking outside the entrance way of the theater a few hours before your showtime. 

You had accidentally tripped and spilled coffee all over some tax forms you had to fill out

You let out a soft, “oh no!” 

Saeran had been early for a nice seat (hopefully away from other people) and noticed a woman in a cute over-sized sweater was muttering words under her breath, picking up what seemed to be endless amounts of papers 

He quietly walked over and just as softly said, “…need some help..?” 

You were surprised at the sudden presence of a stranger 

“o-oh! … yes please..” 

he smiled, leaning down and picking up stacks of coffee-stained paper

“would you like me to carry them for you?”, he said 

“are you– are you sure?” you looked up at him innocently in concern 

he answered by gently taking the stack of papers, “where to..?” 

“um… i’ll show you..” 

he nodded, following you to the backstage area where there was a mirror attached to a dresser, stage makeup covering the top of it. 

“you’re an actress?” 

you grinned shyly, “everyone’s surprised..” 

“n-no, i think it suits you. i was surprised because i’m watching the show tonight.” 

“r-really? you’ll watch me?” 

he nodded, blushing at your hopeful smile 

“i’ll do my best then, if you’ll watch me..” 

“good.” he looked away 

“i’ll be waiting” you said with a soft smile 

“so will i” 

yeah you two were literally so adorable.

- 

enjoy my beautifuls

[bubble-tea-bunny]

pretty please

[zuko x reader]

author’s note: wowowow it’s been a minute. until this story, i literally hadn’t written anything since april. i really don’t like to write unless i’m in the correct headspace and it took about 4 months to get back into one ^^’ anyway, i’d been sitting on this idea since july, and i’m glad to have written it. hope you enjoy

word count: 3,341

The doors of the Jasmine Dragon are always open to welcome patrons and a cool breeze. Zuko marks the beginning and end of each day by the size of the crowd—which grows in the early hours and keeps him and Uncle Iroh decently busy until finally it begins to shrink—and by the crisp air which greets him in the morning and again in the evening, both instances when the sun is hidden by the horizon. Heavy rain has been pouring over Ba Sing Se as of late, but today is the first day where the clouds have cleared, and Zuko is once again able to gauge the time by the color of the sky: at opening, a wash of indigo with strips of pale yellow at the horizon like the sands of a faraway land, and at closing, reds and oranges like fire.

Dusk paints the rug in the center of the shop in a warm-toned light, the jasmine dragons embroidered upon it more like crimson dragons now. Zuko gently sets the tray with its empty pot and teacups down on the counter before turning around to wave at the last customers of the evening. They’d lingered to chat with Uncle Iroh, and Zuko had spent the time tidying the rest of the shop, so that once it’s just the two of them left, most of the cleaning is done.

Zuko yawns, feeling the fatigue catching up to him now that the place is silent but for the quiet clinking of ceramic dishes. Uncle Iroh chuckles.

“Tired?” he asks.

Zuko shrugs, a noncommittal answer. “A little, but I think I’d rather eat dinner than go to sleep right now.” As if on cue, his stomach growls. It had been busier than usual today, and as consequence, he’d decided to work through lunch.

“Did someone say ‘dinner’?”

A loud voice carries from all the way across the threshold, prompting Zuko and Uncle Iroh to see who it is. Sokka leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and crooked smile on his face. “Because I could do with some food right about now.”

Upon realizing who is standing there, Zuko smiles widely. “Sokka! You didn’t mention you’d be in Ba Sing Se.”

“To be honest, I didn’t really plan on it, but I was in the area, and you know how the saying goes: spontaneity is the spice of life, and yada yada.” Sokka waves a hand dismissively.

Catching up with a friend he hasn’t seen in a while makes Zuko look forward to dinner even more, but he stops short and glances to his right, where Uncle Iroh is already watching him.

“Go,” he encourages with a nod. “I’ll clean up here.”

“Thank you, Uncle.” Zuko gives a respectful bow, and then he’s traipsing across the teashop to join Sokka, and they descend the steps together into a dark and brilliant night.

The first subject of conversation is figuring out where to eat, and after tossing a few suggestions back and forth, they settle on a noodle bar that stays open late. If they get caught up talking for too long, they could remain there a while. The rest of the walk, then, is spent swapping stories of what they’ve been up to since last they saw each other. Zuko listens attentively, smiling absentmindedly, truly interested in the adventures his friend has been on.

It’s when the tables are turned and Sokka asks What about you? that Zuko heaves a sigh, shoulders sagging. He’d been so busy back in the Fire Nation with diplomatic affairs, talking to this person and then that person, visiting other regions and welcoming ambassadors to his own. By now, he handles his position as Fire Lord with grace and respectability, but he’s still human and gets worn out too.

“That’s why I came to Ba Sing Se,” he explains. “To get away from all that and just spend time with Uncle.” And sure, he gets tired after working at the Jasmine Dragon all day, but it’s mostly from being on his feet, going from the back of the shop to the front to serve customers, a route he repeats for hours. It’s a different sort of tired from fulfilling his duties as the Fire Lord, and is entirely worth it to him, to take a moment to be no one but Zuko, a guy who works at a teashop.

Sokka smiles sympathetically. “I’m glad I chose to stop by Ba Sing Se. I was wondering how you’d been doing.”

The stress slowly melts away as Zuko smiles back, his shoulders not feeling nearly as heavy as when he’d first arrived in the city. He misses his friends whenever they’re all apart, and he too has lingering thoughts about their wellbeing always in the back of his mind as he goes about his days, and now that he’s finally reunited with one, he’s beginning to feel more like himself again, pulled back down to the ground.

As they turn the corner, the Firelight Fountain comes into full view, yellow lanterns illuminating the ground and the nearby buildings. Though it’s dark, there are still people here, either passing through on the way to their destinations or choosing to congregate on the benches and the edge of the fountain itself. It’s in the latter location that Zuko spots you.

You’re seated a little farther away from the only other two people who have chosen the fountain as a place to rest, perhaps to afford you some quiet as you read a book. The gurgle of the water behind you serves as a perfect white noise, enough to fill the silence but not to pull your attention away.

“Ah… She’s pretty cute.”

Zuko blinks and glances at Sokka. “What?”

Sokka tilts his head in your direction. “I saw you looking at her.”

“Wha—I was not.” But Zuko’s avoiding eye contact and his cheeks feel warm, embarrassed to have been caught (even if he hadn’t exactly been attempting subtly to begin with).

“Hey, come on, nothing to be shy about!” Sokka playfully nudges him with his elbow, and they slow to a complete stop, finding themselves now under the lights of all the lanterns, stopped just on the inside edge of where the light meets the darkness it couldn’t quite reach. Zuko’s still not looking at him, and Sokka’s grin grows. He is thoroughly amused. “You should go talk to her.”

Zuko shakes his head. “No!” he replies hastily. And then, more slowly, “She looks busy anyway.”

Sokka raises a brow. “I bet she’d make time for you. Any girl would.”

The matter-of-fact way in which Sokka says this is flattering, truly, but it doesn’t convince Zuko that approaching you would be anything but a bad idea. “Forget about it. Let’s just get food.” He tries to continue walking but Sokka is quick to clap him on the shoulder, halting his steps, and he just barely keeps from stumbling backwards from the sudden stop in momentum.

“Oh no you don’t,” Sokka declares. Zuko brushes his hand off with a groan and twists around, a silent plea to let the subject drop inherent in his eyes, but Sokka easily ignores it. “What if she’s your soulmate? You can’t just keep walking!”

“My… soulmate?” Okay, now Sokka is starting to blow this out of proportion. He’d spared a glance your way because you were pretty and that was it. “There’s no such thing—”

“You don’t know that!” Sokka exclaims.

“And you do?” Zuko counters.

Sokka shrugs but it’s not a sign of defeat. “I’m just saying, when the soul knows, it knows. You didn’t pick her out of the crowd for no reason.”

It’s awfully dramatic and Zuko opens his mouth to respond but then closes it, deciding he wouldn’t win this debate. Sokka is persistent when he wants to be, and when it comes to the topic of love, Zuko’s on the losing side every time. He knows, however, that if he were really insistent, Sokka would let it drop and they would resume their walk to the noodle bar, but it wouldn’t be without a warning that Zuko was making a huge mistake and that he’d regret it, going to bed thinking about you and then dreaming about you but he’d never be able to find you again—

Even imaginary Sokka is hard to handle and Zuko takes a deep breath, momentarily diverting his gaze from the real Sokka in front of him over to you, and back again.

“So…” Sokka trails off, watching him expectantly.

“I’d mess it up,” Zuko offers weakly in the way of an excuse.

“You’re the Fire Lord,” Sokka says as if that solves the issue. “You got this!”

“I don’t… really see how that’s supposed to help me…” Zuko tilts his head, confused.

Sokka rolls his eyes. “Just go!” He gives Zuko an encouraging shove.

With a quiet huff, Zuko ambles in the direction of the fountain, where you still sit reading, none the wiser to the fact you were the subject of their conversation. Halfway through the walk, he looks over his shoulder at Sokka, who gestures enthusiastically for him to keep going and to stop looking over here because you’re over there and you’re what’s important.

Is it too late to turn around? Zuko thinks begrudgingly to himself as he sets his sights on you. He ruminates on the question with every step he takes, reasoning that perhaps he could deal with Sokka talking off his ear about how he will regret not doing anything, because surely Sokka couldn’t keep it up for that long, right? (The immediate doubt Zuko feels upon considering this point speaks for the contrary.)

But before he can make up his mind, suddenly he’s in front of you and though he’s said nothing, you sense his presence and your eyes slide up from the pages of your novel to him, the lower half of your face concealed by the hardcover. The few seconds of silence that follow feel instead like a few years, panic filling Zuko as he fails to say anything. Your eyes flicker to the side, which he assumes you do to check if he’d actually meant to approach someone else because, well, why would he be talking to you? You don’t know each other.

“That book seems really interesting,” he says finally, and he wants to crawl into a hole and hide. Five words in and it is already not going well. What kind of opening was that?

You blink and lower the book, using a finger to mark your place before closing it to get a better view of the cover. It’s blank.

“W-Well, I just thought it was really interesting there’s nothing on the cover!” Zuko rushes out. “Since, you know, you usually don’t see that, and… and…” His intention was to segue into asking you what it was about, having decided that to be his way into a longer interaction with you, but the words die in his throat the longer he looks at you now that your face isn’t hidden because you’re a lot prettier up close and he learns tonight that you’re what all those love stories must be talking about when they extol the levels of beauty which render a lovesick heart speechless.

If you’re bothered by the bouts of silence, this most recent one stretching longer than the first, you don’t say anything. In contrast, you continue to sit there, watching him steadily, waiting patiently, and Zuko feels bad that he’s so bad at this. Never has the act of talking come less easily than it does now, in a situation where the stakes are lower than any dialogues he has with diplomats or government officials. It really shouldn’t be this difficult talking to a girl, but maybe he has it backwards and the stakes here are higher, because if he entertains Sokka’s admittedly outrageous claim just a few minutes previous about what you could possibly mean to Zuko, and if in fact the hands which keep the world turning are also those which keep hearts beating with purpose to seek out their companion, then the stakes as he stands here are the highest of all.

He’s still scrambling for what to say next, entirely unsure how to salvage a conversation that hasn’t even taken off yet. Nervously he rubs the back of his neck. Sokka must be observing the whole situation unfolding with equal parts stress and exasperation because even if Zuko isn’t actually flailing his arms, helpless and drowning in an open sea called love, his awkward posture and anxious spluttering are enough of a metaphorical signal. Sokka’s on the shore, too far to come to his rescue right away, but maybe this will go the way of those romantic tales and it will be you who holds a hand out to save him instead.

However, you’re beaten to the punch by those aforementioned invisible hands of destiny as they, quite literally, push Zuko closer to his own. A couple of kids dash past the fountain, laughing loudly as they chase each other in a game, and one of them checks Zuko in the back, which causes him to stumble forward.

He manages to catch himself with a hand braced on the edge of the fountain, and luckily too, because if he hadn’t, he would’ve fallen on you and knocked both of you back into the water. But now the two of you are face-to-face, mere inches away, and your eyes are wide in surprise and he is mortified. This entire conversation (if one could call it that) he had been plagued with the urge to apologize for being so skittish and acting so strange and the urge multiplies now because he could’ve accidentally kissed you and he’s honestly not sure what would be worse—that, or the two of you tumbling into the fountain.

This close up, the top half of your face takes up most of his field of vision, but in his peripherals he notices the curl of your mouth, and his gaze briefly drops down to it, to the smile which has found its way there.

“Looks like you just fell for me,” you remark teasingly, the quip slipping from your lips so easily and in this moment he can think only of two things: one, that your voice is incredibly soft, like the first warm light of morning settling on his skin, and two, that you have no idea how right you are.

Zuko’s wrist begins to feel slightly sore from bearing the brunt of his weight and that’s when he realizes he’s stayed that way for too long, and he clears his throat and stands back up straight. “S-Sorry…” he says quietly. For being skittish and acting strange and, now, for almost falling on you.

Your smile widens and it reaches your eyes and in their depths are the reflection of the lanterns surrounding you both and Zuko can’t help but liken them to stars strung across the sky. “It’s okay.”

The tension has slowly ebbed away, your almost-collision the perfect ice breaker. It had been a shocking one, certainly, but that was what Zuko needed. Anything more subtle and he probably wouldn’t have felt relaxed enough to think clearly. From the few words you’ve said, he knows you’re far from bothered by him approaching you, and he’s able to calm down a little bit.

“So as I was saying, that book of yours…” Internally he cringes. Why did he have to go back to the book? This was the perfect chance to steer the topic elsewhere! What was he supposed to follow up to that?

“It is interesting,” you comment. Zuko’s cheeks heat up. You’d noticed his struggle. But he is grateful nonetheless that you’re helping carry the conversation along. The fact you’re seemingly in no rush to end it must be a good sign.

“I could explain it to you, the plot, since there’s no summary or even title on it or anything, so…” You trail off and he wonders if he’s imagining the nervousness suddenly inherent in your amiable grin, as you go quiet and look up at him and—oh. Oh.

This is the opening he’d been looking for, the one he’d been unable to find himself because he is completely helpless in scenarios like these. If the universe and its mysterious machinations had been the hand to keep him from drowning, you’re on the lifeboat checking to make sure he’s okay, the sun behind your head a halo and maybe heaven feels like a warm day and smells like salt in the ocean. And maybe it looks like you.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Zuko states. “Maybe over some tea?”

“I’d like that.”

Then, before he has the chance to change his mind, “Are you free right now?”

The question stops you short, and he’d completely understand if you said no. This is incredibly short notice, and there was no issue with making plans for another day. But you have no qualms about the sudden invitation, for you place your bookmark to save the page then stand, clutching your book close to your chest. “I am.”

Zuko grins lopsidedly. “Great.”

He guides you in the direction of the Jasmine Dragon, and as you begin to walk, while your focus is on the path in front of you, he glances quickly over at Sokka. He wouldn’t have made the split second decision to ask you out right now if he didn’t think Sokka would be fine with it. But he knows his friend well and Sokka is, indeed, perfectly okay with the unexpected turn in the evening. From across the way, by the lanterns farthest from you two, he is smiling proudly and giving a thumbs up. They would have time to catch up tomorrow (and Zuko is sure Sokka will want him to recount everything about his time with you).

At the teashop, he tells you to pick any table you’d like while he goes to prepare a pot of tea. You both lose track of time as you talk, for the conversation opens up to other avenues aside from your novel, and Zuko notes that the tea he’s drinking has never tasted so good. It reminds him of something he heard a while ago, hazy in his mind currently, and he wracks his brain trying to recall it. What was it that Uncle said?

The best thing to have with tea is a good friend. Yes, that sounds correct. Zuko can envision him as he says that, a teacup clutched in his hands and wise grin on his face, and at the thought, Zuko hides his smile behind his own as he takes another sip. But the move doesn’t escape you, and you catch the small smile. It makes you halt in the middle of your sentence to address it.

“What?” you ask, amused and curious.

Zuko shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

Your eyes are sparkling and he knows that you know he’s lying, but for his sake you drop the subject, instead returning to your original topic. And he continues to listen and hang on all your words and he is the luckiest man in the world because he’s sharing tea with someone who is beginning to feel like so much more.

He’s left wondering if this is the feeling of finding the one, the right one, the one for him. He doesn’t want to give this to Sokka, to admit that okay, perhaps there had been substance to what Sokka had claimed and maybe the idea of soulmates is real, and not just written about in stories for the lovestruck and the romantic. But then you dazzle him with a large smile in response to something he says, and he doesn’t dwell on the question for long as he comes to the conclusion that honestly, the answer doesn’t really matter to him.

[strikethematch18]

Dadzawa x F! Reader - Over Worked & Tired Part 2

After your shower which made you feel a little better than before as the act of cleaning the accruing sweat and radiating germs from your body. Your next step was hoisting yourself out of the shower base and to a position you can dry your body and get dressed. This would be an awfully awkward thing for your teacher to help you with, so this task left you on your own. 

It took a little bit of time and effort but eventually, you did manage to dry your body. The next step was to put the fresh clothes Aizawa left for you on your body, they were definitely comfortable and comforting. This took a little less bit of energy but still took a lot. After sitting for a moment on the seat on the toilet you stood up to face your weakness and the overpowering world spinning. 

You open the door to the bathroom quietly and slowly make your way down a hallway holding on to the wall for added support. It wasn’t long until you heard the quick steps of your professor coming from what you could assume was the kitchen in order to give you added support and led you over to a couch already made with pillows and a new blanket which made you frown slightly.

In your moment of help, you couldn’t help feeling a little guilty, “Y/N, you should have gotten my attention, and I would have been helped you sooner so you didn’t exert nearly as much energy and strength.”

Picking up on your frown Azaiwa said, “it’s just in the wash, I figured it would help and it would make it a little softer. Same thing with your clothes”

“Oh okay, thanks,” you responded weakly.

He stood in front of you and crouched down to your sitting level, “Do you think you could eat a little soup for me kid? It’s chicken noodle so it’s going to be easy on you. I know you’re not the biggest rice fan.”

Aware that you hadn’t eaten in a few days you responded, “Yeah I can try.”

As he walks away you begin to acknowledge how cold you feel but you know it’s a drawback of your fever. Truthfully you didn’t want to eat anything, what you wanted was to curl up in that blanket and sleep, but you weren’t about to let Azaiwas cooking efforts go to waste, and you putting it off any longer probably wouldn’t help your case either, so complying seemed like your best option here. In your slowed thinking you hadn’t realized Azaiwa was just arriving in front of you holding two bowls preparing to hand one to you.

You took the bowl with the spoon in it and were surprised to see your teacher taking a seat in front of you on the floor looking up at you with his own soup which confused you slightly. Had you not been sick and unable to concentrate or focus you may be able to comprehend what he was doing.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to eat by yourself, makes it a little less awkward, plus I’m a little hungry myself,” he said in his gruff normal monotone voice.

“Thanks for that, it actually means a lot,” you replied before taking a spoonful of the soup and eating it.

The meal took place in silence, you slowly eating your chicken noodle soup not wanting to rush yourself as you weren’t really all that hungry plus it felt like a lot of food. As Azaiwa eats his own he examines you in your sick form, He couldn’t help but feel responsible for this, he did push his students as far as they could but he didn’t see just how much he was taking and pushing Y/N. He tried not to show favoritism among his students, but he couldn’t help but care for you as though you were his own child. Really he just wanted you to be happy.

Spooning soup into his mouth, he began to think about the information he had read in your file over the years. He knew that your home life wasn’t all that great. Evidence that you were often left alone for days alone with no real-life knowledge of how to take care of yourself and a house. Your mom was an alcoholic and would have repeating men over that would verbally abuse you, and you did live with anxiety and major depression, but you didn’t know that he knew, all because it was in your student file. He remembered that he is going to have to do some updating to it now that he knows symptoms of the overuse of your quirk.

He noticed you had put your bowl in your lap looking down as though you were deep in thought, perhaps even getting down on yourself. Until he saw that you managed to eat only half the soup he had given you. As he quickly finished his bowl he then proceeded to stand up and gently take the bowl from you.

“Hey kid, it’s alright, you managed to eat something, we can do this again later when you feel up to it okay? I’m proud you made it this far.”

You looked up at him and nodded slightly to demonstrate your agreement on the matter.

After taking them back to his kitchen and in the sink the teacher sighed, he knew you felt terrible, but he was hoping for a little improvement on this, but this just showed you were working on it. He walked back into the living room and saw you still in the same position as before just sitting in a dazed state, but now he noticed your visible shivering from the fever you no doubt had. He put a hand on your forehead and once again you leaned into is getting a little bit of pleasure from the coldness to you. What he noticed was that you felt warmer than you had before and sighed. 

He walked away and headed to the bathroom and into a medicine cabinet. He grabbed a thermometer and ibuprofen and Tylenol, unsure of what would help the circumstances more. Once he got back to you he crouched down in front of you again as you hugged yourself giving the illusion of creating a little warmth.

“Y\N, I need you to open your mouth and stick this under your tongue so I can check your temperature, okay? See what we’re working with.”

As it beeped he discovered the results were very undesirable, 102.4 degrees Fahrenheit, starting to get into dangerous levels. The time was approximately 6:00 in the morning and right about now would usually be preparing to train you in combat before classes for the day, but today is different for the obvious reasons. The teacher sighed as he debated on the blanket or not, but it would make you more comfortable so he left it for you,

“Alright, kid, why don’t you lay down and get some sleep. You’re staying here for the time being at least until I deem you well enough to go back to your dorm. Now, what works better for a fever reducer for you, ibuprofen or Tylenol?” he said and asked as he held the bottles up.

After releasing a small cough you responded with, “Tylenol works better for me.”

And with a quick motion, he took two out of the bottle and handed them to you take along with a bottle of water. You gave him a small smile of gratitude. And after you swallowed he set the bottles down and helped guide you to laying down knowing that to you, you must feel incredibly heavy and weak. Started with your upper body making sure your head hit the pillow, then helped lift your legs onto the cushions. He proceeded to take the blanket and placing it on top of your frame to provide that extra bit of comfort.

“Why don’t you close your eyes and get some sleep kid. I’ll be here when you wake up, if I’m not in here directly find a way to let me know.”

“Okay Mr. Azaiwa, but what about classes today, shouldn’t you be there instead of here taking care of silly old me?” you said with a small laugh that leads to a coughing fit.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, I’ll figure it out, right now you are my priority. Now go to sleep little one”:

And with that, you closed your eyes and your breathing slowed as you snuggled into the couch and pillow while wrapping yourself in the provided blanket. He sighed and took another look at the time, Roughly a quarter after 6. He knew Present Mic would be around in a little over an hour and a half as the human alarm clock with his projecting voice for teachers and students. He knew he was going to have to stop him this time since he knew you really needed the uninterrupted sleep and he knew it was essential to getting you healthy. In the meantime, he decided it was in his best interest to take a small nap and unwrapped one of his many sleeping bags and laid down in it on the floor next to you.

In about an hour and 15 minutes he woke up and got up to wait in the hallway to see Present Mic and ask him to not do his normal routine and explain the situation. Later in the day, he had plans to retrieve your laptop to email your professors at the American college and also speak to principle Nezu to alert him of the situation at hand, also he was supposed to alert him anytime a modification was to be made to a students file.

After a few more minutes Present Mic exited his room and was surprised to see his friend already out of his room and headed over to him.

“Hey Hizashi, anyway I can talk you out of doing your normal wake up routine?” Azaiwa asked.

“I mean sure, but why?” the other teacher proceeded to ask.

“I’ve got a very sick student crashing on my couch right now. She has been overworking herself and been trying to function on next to no sleep and forgot to eat in the mix of it. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her.”

“It wouldn’t happen to be Y/N would it? She’s the American girl also working on her college degree right?” Hizashi asked.

“Yeah, that’s the student. I guess she at the end of the semester and is struggling a bit. I think she’s also been depending on her quirk more and has been overusing it. Speaking of which, you know how the symptoms of that were missing from her student file? Well, I finally found out tonight.”

“Well shit man, what are they?”

“From the information, she gave me they are usually a lack of focus, occasional headache, and often night terrors and the extra fatigue. I’ll be going to Nezu here in a bit since it will be a modification to her file.”

“Alright man, I’ll spread the news to ask I wake the other teachers up.”

“Thanks for that Hizashi, and would you mind helping out covering my classes today. I want to keep a close eye on the kid. Has a fever of 102 degrees and is really struggling,” Awaiza asked to hope for the best.

“Yeah no problem Shota, just take care of the kid and let me know if you need anything else from me,” and with that, he walked off to start his morning wake-up calls.

With this taken care of, he proceeded to walk back into the apartment and see Y/N still sleeping soundly and decided to crawl back into his sleeping back, hoping to achieve some sleep himself, as he too needed some sleep in order to help her.

[amenomiko]

Thank you @amymarple for the request and Thank You so much for liking my writing 🤗🤗🤗😍😍😍❤❤❤! There's no element in your request that makes me uncomfortable so it's okay ✨✨✨. Hope you like this!

First Game - Quiz Game

Team 1 - Masamune, Ranmaru, Yukimura

Team 2 - Sasuke, Nobunaga, Mitsunari

Prize : A photo of MC

❤💖❤💖❤💖❤💖❤💖❤💖❤💖❤

Team 1 be like (˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵)(✿❛◡❛)ಠ_ಠ

Team 2 be like (´・ｪ・｀)😏(❁´◡`❁)

Yukimura's one and only question before it started be like "Why am I here again?"

But it was ignored.

Then drum roll.... Start!

Question 1: What is the substitute for wine in dish? To the lords and ninjas of Sengoku era, Wine is a type of alcoholic drink in foreign country.

Masamune: Hoooh substitute eh? I'd say sake? Cause it's also an alcoholic drink.

Ranmaru: But didn't you immediately k.o even after a sip? Why would you want to make anything that required alcohol, Masamune-sama?

Masamune:

Yukimura: PFFFFT- ehem.

Mitsunari: Uhm.. Uhm.. I think.. Maybe.. *Butterfly passes by 🦋🦋🦋* Oh OAO. *Distracted*

Nobunaga: That's easy. It will be MC's tears 😏.

MC: (눈‸눈)...

Sasuke: Grape (´・ｪ・｀)✨.

BING! BING! BING! "Sasuke wins! Points goes to Team 2!"

Sasuke: *Dabs*

Question 2: Margaret has 5 childrens. It's Olivia, Johnathan, Liam, Shana, and Who is the youngest.

Them:

Sasuke: Oh. Ooooh. Okay.

Yukimura: What? What?? Who is the youngest? Who?

Masamune: Hoooh.. This is tricky.

Nobunaga: I think it's Mitsunari. Because our Mitsunari is like the youngest who's mind needed to be protected 😏.

Mitsunari: Thank you, My Lord. I'm honored (❁´◡`❁).

Ranmaru: But wow. This Margaret person is a super woman. She have five kids 😲✨✨✨.

Sasuke: The people in this era is really... *sigh* must protecc!

Yukimura: Sasuke, stop talking in your weird language, I bet you already have the answer don't you?

Sasuke: Yes I do.

Yukimura: So who's the youngest?

Sasuke: Yes.

Yukimura: What-

Sasuke: Who is the youngest.

Yukimura: No, I'm asking you ಠ_ಠ.

Sasuke: Yes bro. Who is the youngest.

Yukimura: I SWEAR TO GOD SASUKE WHO IS THE YOUNGEST??

Sasuke: You don't have to swear it like that, bro. Yes. Who is the youngest.

Yukimura: *SCREEEEEECH*

Final question: If a castle is a home, then a bed is a ______.

Masamune: Kitten meowing my name 😏✨✨✨✨

Hideyoshi in the background: *sighhhhh* 😑😑😑😑

Ranmaru: A place to sleep (✿❛◡❛)!

Nobunaga: Place for MC to be ready for my kiss 😏.

Sasuke: ......

Yukimura: A place to sleep obviously. What else it is for 😒?

Sasuke: *Grabs megaphone* VIRGINNNNNNN~~~~~

Yukimura: What?? (　☉д⊙)

Shingen among the crowd: Oh, my Yuki. And here you are, playing the game so you can win over our Goddess (っω；。).

Yukimura: *Misheard* What? You want to bring a horses on your bed??

Meanwhile Mitsunari: *Still distracted with the butterfly 😳🦋✨✨✨

Winner: Team 2. Thanks to Sasuke.

Mitsunari: I don't know what happened but yaaaay (❁´◡`❁)❤❤❤~~

Nobunaga: *Smiles at MC's photo of sleeping* Hm 😏. *Puts it inside his inner kimono*

Sasuke: *stares at photo of MC cooking in an apron* Oh mah waifu. Le mademoiselle making me a sandwich. *kiss kiss kiss*

Nobunaga: ........

Sasuke: *Cough* Excuse me (´・ｪ・｀).

Second Game - Eating Competition

Team 1 - Shingen, Kennyo

Team 2 - Yukimura, Mitsuhide

Prize: Gold Trophy of MC statue in wedding dress.

Shingen: We can do this, Kennyo 😏. Let's do our best to win our Goddess's heart~

Kennyo: Tsk. I don't see any points of winning this game over a food eating competition-

MC: Alright the food is here~ I cooked it myself ☺☺☺. The dish for this eating competition is fried rice with anchovies, edamame, tempura, and a mix of foreign country, Korea's infamous Kimchi ❤.

Kennyo: I won't lose 😒.

Shingen: ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^)...

Yukimura: Why did I team up with you again?

Mitsuhide: Now, now, don't say that. We might win, you know?

-FOOD EATING COMPETITION... START!-

Shingen: Aaaah it smells so nice. When the Goddess prepared something as divine as this, I couldn't ask for more, aaah such a sin to be eating heavenly food~~

Kennyo: Just be quiet and start eating will you ಠ_ಠ? Nevermind I will start first- *Eats* ....MMF-

Yukimura: GAH WHAT THE HECK WILD BOAR?? It's so salty!!

MC: ☺💢...... My, have I forgotten to tell you that the dishes is not what it taste like? Oh I didn't. Of course. Especially for someone like you, Yukimura.

Kennyo: The rice is salty, the edamame is sour, the tempura is sweet and the kimchi is-- what a combination..! Sh- Shingen- *turns around*

Shingen: X w X.......

Kennyo: He fainted with anchovies hanging in his mouth 😱😱😱 OI! WAKE UP!

Yukimura: *Hurls* Oh f-- hey, are you oka-

Mitsuhide: *Has mixed everything into one bowl and already ate it until halfway* Hm ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^)?

Yukimura: ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ....

Winner: Team 2. Thanks to Mitsuhide and his sense of taste.

Mitsuhide: *Chuckles to the trophy* Ah, I can't wait for the real person to wear it. *Smiles at MC*

MC: (ㆁᴗㆁ✿)?

And Yukimura: *Holding the gold trophy with ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ face*

Final Game - Pass the Baton

Team 1- Kenshin, Shingen, Yukimura, Ranmaru, Kennyo

Team 2 - Hideyoshi, Masamune, Mitsunari, Ieyasu, Mitsuhide

Prize: A handmade kimono by MC.

Point 1: Masamune and Shingen

Bang!

Both of them dash for the second point, clearly glaring at one another within the race.

"Heh. Handmade Kimono or not, I will make sure I claim many more from her!"

"Aren't we a greedy one, One Eyed Dragon? That will be impossible for you to do so as Team 1 will win this no matter what!" Shingen focused to his front, all more than ready to pass the baton.

Both of them manage to pass the baton!

"Go! Ieyasu / Yuki!"

Sasuke: *Gasp* The Tsunderes of History (´・д・｀)! *Takes out phone out of no where and takes picture (which is attached with orange to charge its battery)*

MC: ಠ_ಠ...

"Heh, I won't lose to you!"

"Focus on your front, future loser."

"EXCUSE ME (　☉д⊙)??"

"Excuse you 😒."

"Damn it..! Ah Kenshin-sama--"

Yukimura: *Saw something + slipped* GAH- *Fell and land like an airplane, flat on the floor* Why are you drinking during a race???

Kenshin: Hmh. I was bored, you are too slow (눈‸눈).

Mitsunari: I'm honored to get the baton from you, Ieyasu-sama (❁´◡`❁)✨✨✨

Ieyasu: Just start with the running already

ヽ(`д´；)/!!!

3rd point, Kenshin and Mitsunari. Despite the slight delay, both of them running in par with one another.

"You are amazing despite having a drink just now, Kenshin-sama."

"Heh. That is nothing much. Besides, you are not bad yourself."

Meanwhile, at the 4th point...

Mitsuhide: ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^) My, hello fellow betrayer.

Ranmaru: QAQ Don't put it that way please~~

Now the baton in both of their respective hands, Ranmaru didn't hesitate to use his ninja skills for a quick stride, and that won't stop Mitsuhide either.

The final point: Hideyoshi and Kennyo.

Both: *Glares at one another*

Kennyo: To think that Nobunaga's lap dog would participate.

Hideyoshi: What did you say ୧( ಠ Д ಠ )୨?? Ah, here he comes..! Pass it here, Mitsuhide!

Mitsuhide: ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^) My, my, someone is impatient. Did you miss me, Hideyoshi?

Hideyoshi: GSHJSKAALF JUST BE QUICK WILL YOU ヽ(`д´；)/??

Mitsuhide: Okay~~

Also Mitsuhide: Ah-

*S T A B*

Everyone in the field: 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱 *GASSSPPPPP*

Mitsuhide: My apologies, Hideyoshi. The running makes my legs tire witn fatigue it seems.

Current Hideyoshi's state: *Baton sticking out in his butthole* A-are you trying to kill me, Mitsuhide--- ugh- *faints*

Ranmaru: *Is stuck between helping Hideyoshi but also want to pass the baton to Kennyo* Aaaah I'm sorry, Hideyoshi-sama 😭!! Kennyo-sama!! Here!! *Pass the baton*

Kennyo: *Wince with an eye twitch to Hideyoshi* I pray for the health of your.. W-well. *Runs*

Winner: Team 1.

Kenshin: Kimono is great. But a kiss from you is better.

MC: Wha wha wha o////o..!

Shingen: Are you stealing my lines 😒? So rude~

Kennyo: Hands off your filthy hands on her, Shingen.

Ranmaru: Yaaaay Kimono by Princess (∩´∀`∩)💕!!

Yukimura: *Looking at Hideyoshi who is surrounded by the Azuchi lots* That's.. The most horrifying thing ever ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ *shivers*

Meanwhile..

Nobunaga: Your sacrifice will be remembered and honoured, Hideyoshi.

Mitsunari: Noooo Hideyoshi-sama is not a virgin anymoreeee 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Ieyasu: Mitsunari what in the smoking duck-

Mitsunari: Huh? But MC said like that since Hideyoshi-sama is Nobunaga-sama's wife or something just now.. Huh? Ieyasu-sama, a duck can smoke 😱😱😱???

Ieyasu: Yes, just like you 😒.

Mitsuhide: May you rest in peace, my fellow right hand.

Masamune: May your butt rest well, lad. *sighs*

Hideyoshi:

Hideyoshi:

Hideyoshi: HEY S T O P!! I'M NOT DEAD YET ୧( ಠ Д ಠ )୨!!!