#i just did too much this am trying to play catch up on my housework ^.^

[zeawesomebirdie]

Apparently I've hit the level of fatigue where watching the music video for Doom Crossing made me cry

[differenteagletragedy]

i was reading through your blog and omg musicals!!!! a theater kid, myself, i'd love if you'd write some headcanons about a broadway/musical star mc, if its not too close to your famous mc headcanons! also, i'd love to hear if you think the ol1 boys can sing and who would help mc practice (both lines and singing)! also who would sing along with mc while they're doing chores/housework/etc or if they'd just listen/hum/etc! you can just assume theyre poly with mc for this, if it makes it easier! :)

Listen. Listen. I love this so much. I am also a theatre kid (so much that I am forced to spell it with the "re" at the end) and I have many thoughts.

Also, Bobby from Company is Baxter after he reconnects with MC and friends, with an MC that ends up with Cove or Derek and this is just a fact. Evidence:

This is a video of single Baxter with his ten friends in five couples: Cove and MC, Derek and Tamarack, Terry and Miranda, Jude and Scott, and Qiu and OLNF MC.

ANYWAY.

-- Cove is such a fanboy. He's there to see your shows literally every time he can make it and will be disappointed if he can't come. He knows all the words to all the songs and a lot of the dialogue too. He is so proud.

-- Did you get to make a recording of your show? Try to get Cove to play something else in the car, I dare you.

-- Derek is also a big big fan, he is telling anyone who will listen about how he's your friend/boyfriend/husband. Jorge might have to tell him to chill a little bit but he's just so EXCITED.

-- He will make a point to pick you up after your evening shows. The crew knows him, so he just comes backstage after and will walk with you out the stage door. It's late and people are unpredictable, and he wants to keep you safe.

-- Baxter, surprise, also a big fan! If you started Broadway after the breakup in Step 3 then he may not figure it out, Broadway stars aren't as mainstream as movie or pop stars, for example. But he'll obviously find out when you're brought back together in Step 4 and he'll have some much research to do on you during those lost years!

-- He'll be streaming your recordings and just feeling so many things.

-- But maybe in Step 3 you've decided to pursue your theatrical dreams! A last summer at home before you move to New York, perhaps. Let Baxter take your headshots for you! He will be so good at it. He will also style you.

-- If this is the case, that you move after Step 3, I don't think Cove will move too. He could! But I can't picture him leaving the California coast. Long distance love. He and Cliff come in to see your big shows.

-- Cliff cries. Cove does too, he got it from his dad.

-- Maybe Derek will blow off a big game because it's his only chance to come see you. He feels bad about it, but he's not going to miss your big moment.

-- I haven't thought about this too much shut up

-- Boys at the Tonys! Baxter is going to KILL IT. I've talked about this with the general famous MC stuff lol, the awards show stuff, but he's going to dress to impress. So will Derek, this is very important and the boy who wore a polka dot bowtie at 13 isn't going to pull out any stops.

-- You're going to have to tell Cove to button all his buttons though, it's not the time for your cleavage baby

-- I think Baxter is the only one who could carry a tune, but he wouldn't try to get technically good. Cove is bearable with his singing. Derek really is not, but he has so much fun with it that no one would ever tell him to stop.

-- They'll all help you with your lines. Derek might actually learn lines instead of reading them from a script so he can help you practice while he's driving or something. And yeah, that's a lot, but that's just who he is.

-- If you're just having fun singing, in the car or doing chores or whatever, then they'll all sing with you. But if they catch you really going for it in the shower or something, they will all just stop and listen because oh my GOD

[mah-gah-lee]

You’re such a bitch - (Charlie Gillespie x reader)

Word Count: 2486 Request: no, again @jatpsmut​ inspired me with his fic “What Happens in Hawaii Stays in Hawaii - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (SMUT - 18+)”. I asked her if I could use the Hawaii idea and now I am writing this!

However, some details change from the original fic:

“Charlie and y/n haven't been best friends since they were kids, but from the first season of jatp. y/n is an additional actor on Julie and the Phantoms, also a dancer. Charlie didn't confess his feelings to y/n in Hawaii.

The only thing I got from the idea of @jatpsmut​ is the fact that something happened in Hawaii. So thank you to her for writing this incredible fic, without it this could not happen Summary: You and Charlie were best friends and roommates in LA. One evening, you heard it with a girl, the next morning, everything is awkward, bitchy and everything changes. Warnings: mention of sexual activities - language disclaimer: I don't know Charlie or his family personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Charlie's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…). All of this is not the reality

 Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ @lukeys-giggle​ @happinessinthedarkesttimes​ if you want to be tagged in my next fic let me know ! 

--- 

You try to focus on the TV show you were watching, but obviously your roommate had company. And that company was way too loud in your opinion. You were rolling your eyes in annoyance when suddenly your phone vibrates, displaying the blonde head of your second best friend. If there was one thing you miss since you came back to live to Los Angeles, it was obviously living with this sarcastic character. Vancouver seemed so far away to you. You picked up your phone and Owen's face appeared.

 “Hi sweetie.” Owen told you with a smile “Oh, hey… Why that face?” he clearly noticed your annoyance. "Hi O." you said before complaining "Ugh, I miss living with you in Vancouver so much" "Yeah me too. We had so much fun. But hey, I'm sure we'll have a season two." "I hope so much"

You were an extra cast member on Julie and the Phantoms, you also were a dancer on the first season, just as Tori. You wished so much Owen was right about Jatp season 2 renew but Netflix seemed to enjoy making you patient. But the coronavirus had also literally messed up all your plans. However, you were angry, some series came out long after yours and got renewed while yours stayed on hold. It was clear that fans of the series as much as you were just waiting for the renewal of season two.

A moan came out of Charlie's bedroom with the sound of a bouncing mattress, you rolled your eyes again, groaning with a sort of anger.

"Jesus Christ ..." you complained "Wait, y/n, what's that sound?" “You know what I miss most about living with you in Vancouver O’? Rule #3. " “Rule #3? Rule #3" he seemed to think about what you said when he finally realized "Oh ... Oh! Rule #3! Wait.. Oh my God! Is Charlie being with a chick right now? ” He asked you with stupefaction. "Oh I wish you were wrong"

A laugh came out from you best friend mouth and you gave him a killer look through the screen, making him laugh harder. When you were in Vancouver, living with two boys forced you to set limits and rules for living. The first was; everyone cleans up their own mess. Second, the housework takes turns. Third rule: no one-night stand allowed in the flat. Surprisingly as it may seem, this rule had been followed very well by everyone. But at the same time, the boys' schedules really didn't make time to bring anyone home, and then after all, they were professional. But as soon as Charlie returned from his parents' quarantine, he forgot the existence of this rule, as if it did not apply to Los Angeles. It wasn't like he brought a different girl home every night, or even every month. It might have been the second or third time since you had moved in. But this situation embarrassed you more than you might have thought.

“Owen, don't make fun of me. I've been hearing them for about an hour now. " "Poor you. Now you understand how I felt in Hawaii" he smirked at you. "Wait, what did you say?" you asked him, in shocked. "Oh please y/n ... you heard me clearly"

Of course, you had heard what he said, but you were in shock at the revelation, so you needed confirmation. This story was supposed to be a secret between you and Charlie. The fact that Owen mentioned it could only assume two things.

"Did you hear us in Hawaii?" “I was in the room next door! Of course, I heard you. It's not like you and Charlie are the quietest couple ever having sex ... " "It seems Charlie is the loudest one…" you said, referring to your best friend having sex in the next bedroom. "Oh darling please, I can remind you of what you said that night. You two gave me nightmares." "Please don't. I feel so embarrassed right now"

Last year you went to Hawaii with several cast members and Kenny. A booking error forced you to share a bed with Charlie. It seemed that sleeping with a girl seemed more adequate than two boys sleeping in the same bed. Charlie and Owen had avoided that possibility the second the problem had arisen. One thing leading to another, after a few strong cocktails, you and the dark-haired boy had ended up having a horny night. The shame caused the next day made you both never talk about it again and "what happened in Hawaii will stay in Hawaii". You didn’t know that Owen heard you and it seems that boy can keep a secret for so long now.

The problem was that that night you realized that you felt more than an attraction to your roommate. It went beyond friendship or mere sexual tension at the sight of this Canadian. You wanted every aspect of what you might have experienced with Charlie and more: the laughs, the funny times, the lots of talking, the quiet times watching a movie or just playing Nintendo Switch, the sex. But you also wanted the PDAs, the feelings, just being with him like his girlfriend. But the actor was totally oblivious to your feelings for him, and you didn't even want to try to make him understand it on his own. You just created a shell for yourself and buried your feelings deep within yourself.

 “I don’t understand y/n. Why didn’t you tell him your feeling?” “Because I know he doesn’t love me back, O.” “Oh come on! You two are the most stubborn people I ever met!”

Again, for the third time tonight, you've rolled your eyes. You were pretty sure Charlie didn't feel the same way you did. Since Hawaii, neither of you had stepped forward towards each other, but sometimes your behaviors showed that you were more than friends. Another moan was heard from Charlie’s room and Owen's face on the screen was memorable. His eyes were wide and his cheeks were red.

"Okay, y/n. I'm sorry but I don't want to keep talking to you and hear my other best friend hooking up at the same time ..."

 You laughed and he hung up the phone not forgetting to say goodbye. You tried to focus on your screen again, your headphones being way too far away for you to catch them. Minutes later you finally heard the distinctive sound of Charlie's orgasm and knew you were finally going to be able to sleep.

 …

The next morning you woke up with a high level of fatigue. You casually walk to the kitchen to make coffee. While you were pouring yourself a cup of this much-desired black liquid, a person entered the kitchen.

 "Who the fuck are you?"

You raised an eyebrow, bringing your mug to your lips. The girl looked at you with a disgusted face.

"Roommate, darling. Not nice to meet you." "Why the hell are you wearing his shirt?"

A smirk appears on your lips, far too happy that she asked the question. When you were in Vancouver, it wasn't surprising to see you wearing the boys' t-shirts, although you had a preference for Charlie's, there were times when you wore Owen's. The boys never complained about this mania and you had to continue when you moved to Los Angeles with Charlie. The scene was pretty funny, you were there drinking your coffee in a t-shirt borrowed from your roommate while his conquest from last night stared at you in disgust, decked out in another Charlie t-shirt. You took a look at the Looney Tunes t-shirt you were wearing and just shrug your shoulders.

 “Old habits.” You simply said. "Yeah, you're gonna have to break this habit."

You laughed disdainfully. You didn't like this girl. Not because it was the conquest of your best friend for whom you had blatant romantic feelings. But rather because she had this condescension and believed that spending a night with Charlie gave her every right.

 "What makes you think that, sweetie?"

 You leaned against the kitchen counter, your posture offhand, a smirk on your lips. You weren't used to being such a bitch, but the girl in front of you pissed you off. And it was only nine in the morning.

 "Well, hello, I spent the night with Charlie." "Oh yeah sure, but that doesn't mean you're dating him." "Charlie is a great guy"

She wasn't wrong. Charlie wasn't heartbroken but he was still human and a twenty-two-year-old boy. Just looking at her you knew your best friend hadn't chosen her for a serious relationship with her. The little conversation you were having with her now confirmed that he couldn't date her. Another smirk spread across your lips as she looked at you with disdain again.

 "Who the fuck do you think you are? You are nowhere near his level" she said to you

This time, you couldn't help but laugh sarcastically. Yeah, she really pissed you off. Physically, she was everything Charlie didn't like about a potential girlfriend: big breasts, much bigger than him, slightly shallow. Oh but she had a fucking ass and maybe that was why he had chosen her. Her whole body reflected Charlie's choice for a one-night stand, but not the ideal girlfriend.

 "Oh honey, I'm nobody, but neither are you. Listen. You were just a one-night stand and me? Me, I'll still be here in his apartment with his t-shirts on when he brings you home, telling you that it was cool but that it will not go further. I will always be there ... "

Charlie woke up and headed straight for the kitchen. He greeted her conquest with a nod, giving her a hello. Instinctively, he approached you and put his hand on your waist before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. Charlie was tactile, it was his language of love. You couldn't help but smirk at the girl, giving her a victorious look. The actor looked at your outfit and a smile appeared on his lips.

 "So that's where it was! I thought I lost it in the Galapagos." he was referring to his looney tunes t-shirt

Your attention fell on Charlie and you smiled happily at him. You cheekily handed your cup of coffee.

"Coffee?" "Hell, yeah"

He grabbed your cup and took a long sip, leaving his conquest almost nonexistent to his eyes. The girl was so pissed off that she seemed to be boiling. She cleared her throat, annoyed.

 "Hmm, I'm going to go" she said. "Oh wait, let me have lunch and I'll bring you back if you want." "It won't be necessary."

You bit the tip of your tongue, amused, far too happy to hide it. Charlie's conquest returned to his room to get dressed. Your roommate turned to you and gave you a questioning look.

"y/n, what did you do?" "Nothing. We were happily getting know each other. I'm surprised at your choice, by the way" "Are you getting revenge?" "Get revenge for what?" "Since ... Hawaii, you've scared all the girls I've brought back." "Did I scare them? Stop, I haven't acted any differently than usual." “You scared them away,” he repeated. "Oh come on, Charlie, please, it's not like you're going to date them."

 He pulled away from you with a look of dismay. You were not wrong, he had never called back the girls he had brought back here, he did not intend to call back the one who was currently in his room. In fact, the only person he really wanted to spend time with was you. But since Hawaii, you seemed to be okay with never mentioning your night together again. This Canadian boy has been in love with you for months, maybe even years now. It quickly fell for you when you were in Vancouver.

"You're right. But I could have ..." he finally confessed "It's wrong. You know it's wrong Charlie, I know you, I'm your best friend. These are not the kind of girls you date. "Yeah… I couldn't date any of them. They just aren't you." He said, his last sentence ending in a whisper before hastening to take a sip from your cup of coffee.

You were paralyzed. Did he really just say what you've been dreaming of hearing for months? Did he just drop it like a bomb, in the middle of a morning conversation between sips of coffee?

“Wait, what?” “Nothing” “It wasn’t nothing, Charlie, you said something” “Nothing important” he repeats “Did you just say that if you didn’t date those girls it’s because they weren’t me?” “You seems to hear voices” “Charlie, I’m not joking… Did you say that?!” “Maybe” “Oh fuck, you’re an idiot!” “I am a..”

You snatched the cup of coffee from her hands and hurriedly put it on the counter. Never mind about the stains on the floor, you will clean up later. You didn't want to miss a second of this possibility. You wrapped your arms around Charlie's neck before resting your lips on his. Your best friend seemed surprised at first so much but quickly relaxed and wrapped his own arms around your waist as your lips moved to give the kiss more tender. The situation was most strange and funny; you were kissing your best friend, running your fingers through his long brown hair. You had to admit that even though you had found him attractive with his Luke's look but you couldn't imagine Charlie without that impressive mass of hair. Luke had short hair, Charlie had long hair. End of the discussion.

So, you were kissing your roommate, making up for lost time while in his room, a girl he had fucked the night before gathered her things. Charlie's conquest stepped out to head for the exit. You broke the kiss making Charlie growl in protest.

"I'm not showing you where the door is." you said. "whore .." the chick whispered.

Charlie stepped away from you and brought his one-night stand to the door, apologizing. He wasn't that kind of boy to go from girl to girl and the circumstances were really strange. The girl left, not without forgetting to curse him. When Charlie walks into the kitchen, you were sitting on the counter, a smirk on your face.

"You're such a bitch y/n" “It's my revenge for keeping me awake last night.” 

His gaze was sly, his smile was mischievous and you knew he was going to find a phrase worthy of the fucking boy he could be. 

"I can keep you awake for a while if you want." “A date wouldn't be too complicated, Charlie. Please be a gentleman. "You can count on me"

He gave you a softer look and you wrapped your arms around his neck again before kissing him. Ultimately, not everything that happened in Hawaii has to be restricted to Hawaii.

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

NCT 127 “They realise they love you”

NCT 127 masterlist                                              Group Masterlist

Not requested, but I needed some fluff in my life ♥ 

Taeil: 

(I’ve been so attracted to Taeil lately) 

It started off with simply sitting in the same room and listening to music as you both worked on your computers. But it progressed quickly, singing along to the random tunes on the radio. Moving on to standing and dancing around to them, quite horribly. 

Grabbing onto Taeil’s hand and spinning into his chest, making him laugh. You couldn’t help but do the same as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Taeil tucked his face into neck and started swaying you back forth, slow dancing to fast music because you could. 

Taeil realised he could be as weird as he wanted with you and that you were just as weird him and he loved you for it. 

Johnny:

(I am mad that this hoody is not in my posession) 

Walking between the aisles, Johnny was looking for you attentively after he found the drinks he was looking for. He spotted you in an aisle, standing on your toes and reaching for something on the top shelf. You were just too short to reach. 

“Need help?” He asked, placing his drinks in your shopping cart. “That would be great.” You answered, smiling at him. He reciprocated a cheeky smile before crossing his arms. “Hmmm, tell me that I’m the best man in the world first.” You snorted at his words, needing to stifle a laugh. “You know what, I got it.” You told him, placing your feet on the lower shelves to reach the item you needed. Jumping down with it in your hands, you shook it at him triumphantly making him laugh. 

You weren’t shy to put him in his place with his bad jokes when you needed too and you were completely dependant on him, it made him absolutely love you. 

Taeyong: 

“It’s going to be a late night again.” Those seemed to be the words you had been hearing a lot lately, but it didn’t bother you. You were understanding that his job wasn’t like a regular 9-5 job, you knew that when you said you would date him. This time wasn’t any different for you, you accepted it and simply watched your show until you were tired. 

However it was diferent for Taeyong this time, he felt guilty for not being there and it was evident when he came home to find you simply watching your show. Taeyong walked over to you and hugged you tightly, catching you off guard. “Thank you for always understanding when I need to work. Thank you.” He felt the need to tell you, even if it was out of the blue. 

He realised every time he came home to find you still there, he loved you. He loved that you understood and that you never blamed him for his schedule. 

Yuta:

Yuta was feeling the need to be productive, tidying up the house slightly and doing some of the general housework while you were out. But when he got to your room, he found some interesting reading material. It was all about Japan, recipes, popular things to do, important culture information. This was normal, but what stood out to him were the sticky notes placed on the pages. Places he had mentioned being fun and food he had mentioned being good had little notes written by them. 

“Oh you found my book.” You remarked, looking at him from the door frame. “Yeah, what are all these notes?” Yuta asked with a smile. You moved to sit down by him and took the book from his hands. “These are places you have talked about, things you said you enjoyed doing and eating. Because well, I want to learn about what you love and what you enjoyed doing and stuff we can do and try together in the future.” Your words made Yuta smile even wider. 

You wanted to know about his interest, you cared enough to study on these things and make future plans. He loved you for it. 

Doyoung: 

The little projector in his room was perfect for movie dates, broadcasting your movie onto his wall as you both laid in bed and watched. Doyoung’s commentary was witty, the movie not really being that good... quite bad actually and deserving some harsh commentary. 

There was a lul in the film, making you slip your hands under the hoodie he was wearing, not for any other reason than he was nice and warm. Doyoung knew that and accepted your touch. “This acting is so-” He stopped midsentence once he looked at you. Seeing that all you needed was his body heat to get you to fall asleep. His lips curled up into a smile and wrapped his arms around you tightly. 

It was a small action of dependency on your end but it made Doyoung’s heart swell. He loved that you were started to depend on him, because well, he was depending on you too. 

Jaehyun: 

The record store had music playing softly in the background when you both entered. It really had a nostalgic feeling, old records filling the racks and old band posters lining the walls. You both spread out through the store, taking your time to look at records and cd’s. You were great at spending time together but not necessarily needing to be right next to each other. 

Jaehyun looked at you from across the store, simply watching you flip through the records with a little smile on your face. You looked up and locked eyes with him, waving softly once you noticed he was staring. Jaehyun laughed to himself and looked away, only to find himself staring at you once again. This time you were oblivious to it and simply flipping through cd’s. 

You always caught his attention, you were effortlessly beautiful to him even doing the bare minimum. It was something he loved about you. 

Winwin/Sicheng: 

Sicheng had noticed you had been studying something over the course of the last few weeks. That your nose was stuck in your books and it was clearly a subject you were interested in. one day, curiousity got the better of him and he couldn’t help but flip through your study books. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were learning Chinese?” Sicheng asked you, holding your books. “I was going to surprise you. I know you’re more comfortable speaking Chinese and I want you to be completely comfortable with me.” You said softly and you could see his ears turning red. “That- I- I want to help you then! Be your teacher!” He stuttered, trying to hide how happy it made him. 

You wanted him to be incredibly comfortable with him, you wanted to be able to communicate on the fullest level and it was something he really cherished. 

Jungwoo: 

“Shhh you don’t want to wake anyone up.” You said, looking at Jungwoo’s face as you tiptoed through the dorm. “You shhh, this was your idea.” He laughed and you raised your fingers to your lips, trying to stifle your own laughter. You both made it to the kitchen and turned the lights on. Jungwoo went to the fridge and opened it quite agressively, a bottle of juice rolling out and hitting the floor with a loud thud. 

You both couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore, your adventure for a midnight snack being nothing short of a disaster and comical. Jungwoo grabbed what he was originally looking for from the fridge and handed it to you to turn around. “What are you two doing?” Taeyong asked, arms crossed and staring at you both. “Nothing.” Jungwoo quickly said, brushing past the older male and sending you into giggles. Once you both reached his bedroom with your snack you broke out in a fit of laughter. 

Jungwoo looked at you as you settled in his room, still laughing. He loved that he could make some lighthearted trouble with you. He loved that he could laugh with you. 

Mark: 

You had been considering asking him for the longest time, but you knew Mark was very busy and probably didn’t have the time too. But you still wanted to learn, so you finally took the step. “Mark... can you teach me how to play the guitar?” You asked, holding his guitar by the neck gently. The question caught him off guard, making him look up at you with wide eyes. “I didn’t know you wanted to learn how to play.” Mark said, gesturing for you to sit by him.

“I’ve been wanting too, but you’ve just been so busy. I didn’t want you to feel like you needed too.” You explained, allowing the guitar to rest in your lap. Mark wrapped his arms around you after moving the guitar. “I mean I don’t need too, but I want too. It would be really fun to play together.” Mark said and you smiled not being able to contain your own excitement. “Ahh thank you!” You hugged him tightly, making him turn pink. 

He loved how excited you got over small things and how eager you were to learn something new. It was just so endearing to Mark. 

Haechan/Donghyuk: 

You had both made yourselves comfortable, laptops and gaming computer ready to go. It was you and Donghyuk vs. Johnny and Jaehyun and you were both not planning on losing. “Y/N’s like impossible to kill!” Johnny said in frustration and you simply laughed, bouncing around the map happily. Donghyuk laughed, taking out Jaehyun as you swiftly did the same to Johnny. 

“There we go! That’s my baby!” Donghyuk cheered, knowing that the fact that you two won meant that you wouldn’t have to pay for snacks that night. Annoyed, the two older guys left to go pick up the order while muttering things under their breath. “I keep telling them to stop challenging us as a duo, but they don’t learn.” You said, settling into Donghyuk’s bed. He joined you with a small laugh and rested his head on your chest. “You’re right, we’re just too good.” You both laughed and allowed your fingers to toy with his hair. 

In that moment he realised that you and him had so much in common, even in teasing it made him realise he was head over heels for you. 

[ladyblogger-margie]

Permit Pending - Part 4

Pairing: Will Miller (Triple Frontier) x F!Reader

Summary: When Will tries to push you away, you turn to the Morales’ for help. 

Words Count: 3304

Rating: 18+ ONLY (PTSD related issues, shower sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, PinV penetrative sex) Some angst. 

a/n: Thank you to everyone whose been reading, sharing, and liking this series! If you’re struggling with mental health, it’s okay to reach out for support. Take care of yourselves! 

Series Master List

All In

“You’ve reached, Will Miller. Please leave your name and number after the beep and I will return your call as soon as I am able,” Will’s voicemail spoke to you, just as it had all day when you tried to call him. 

The morning after you witnessed the true weight of Will’s PTSD symptoms you had woken up alone. You knew that his PTSD was something he struggled with; you had noticed him wince at a car backfire when walking through the park one day, and a few other small moments, but this was different. He called this an episode. You’ve never been with someone with PTSD before and didn’t know the etiquette, you were waiting for him to talk to you first. 

That being said, you had done some research and felt so stupid for forgetting everything you had read the moment he woke you up in the middle of the night. It was just so unexpected, the night before had seemed totally average. You guys watched some mindless science-fiction movie you didn’t care about; you were barely paying attention as Will had spent most of the time with his hand gripped tightly around your hip which had been way more interesting for sure. He was quiet before you went to sleep, but you just assumed he was tired. In retrospect, you could see the slightest hint of the signs peeking beneath his calm exterior. Signs you promised you’d never miss again. 

You checked your phone, rereading the two texts you’ve already sent him in response to the simple message you’d woken up to instead of your boyfriend’s warm embrace. “Sorry about last night. I’ll call you,” was all it said, but it’s after dinner and he hasn’t called you all day. 

You puttered around your apartment catching up on housework you’ve neglected as a result of spending so much time with Will lately. Eventually it got late enough that you knew he’d be asleep - he was so set to a routine that you could picture him following it exactly and it broke your heart to feel so removed from it. You’d thought you were part of that routine now. Since you had started dating you’d rarely spent a day apart, none of those days were unscheduled. He certainly had never forgotten to wish you goodnight. 

Will laid in bed, thoughts of you swirling around his head. He knew you were at home, comfortable in bed, and he longed to be with you. All his thoughts were wrapped up in you. He felt that what he was doing was right, but he missed you so badly the ache in his chest was nearly unbearable. He couldn’t sleep, agonizing over the idea of you home alone thinking that you had done something wrong. In his eyes you were perfect, and you didn’t deserve what he was doing to you. 

You went to bed where you tossed and turned for several hours. You felt that you and Will had something special together, and you had believed that he cared about you, and you clung to that as you forced yourself into a restless sleep.

You swore to yourself that you would never define your life by a man, but here you were, checking your phone compulsively, just waiting for some indication that your feelings weren’t one sided. 

You did impeccable work every day, your parks were in good order, your permit applications were completed on time and in good standing. Yet, here you were, aching for William Miller to call you, or simply text you back. You knew his brothers called him “Ironhead” and now you were beginning to understand exactly how stubborn that man could be. 

It has been a week since you heard from Will, and you weren’t sure what else to do, so you called Maria. 

“Hello! So good to hear from you,” her sing-song voice rang through the phone, her chipper mood exactly opposite to yours, “What’s up?”

“Hey, has Frankie talked to Will lately?” you asked, pinching your nose, feeling embarrassed for having called, “it’s just I haven’t heard from him and he said he’d call me.”

“Let me ask,” she said and you heard her set the phone down. You waited for her to come back, biting your nails - a habit you thought you were long past - until she picked up the phone again. “You know that martini bar on 12th street? It has a stupid name?” she asked, her voice much more serious now. 

“Um, Martiny’s right?” you asked. 

“Yeah, meet me there,” she said and hung up. 

At Matiny’s you had a martini and your friend in front of you when you asked her, “What’s this all about?”

“Will isn’t going to call you,” she said sadly. 

You felt the air drop out of your lungs, totally blindsighted, “He’s trying to ghost me?”

“Basically, yes. He’s, he’s a good guy -” she started before you interrupted.

“I know he’s a good guy, well I thought I knew he was a good guy, this is coming out of nowhere!” You said before you took a large drink from your chilled glass. 

“He’s trying to get out first,” she tried to explain. 

You were even more confused now, “Get out first?”

“These guys carry a lot of burden thanks to who they are, and they all carry it differently. Will takes it the most personally, sees it as a personality flaw he tries to hide,” she said. 

“He thinks I’m going to break up with him because he has PTSD?” you asked. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Maria said with a sad smile. 

“I - It never even occurred to me. I’ve always known he had PTSD, it seems he completely underestimated me,” you said, a little angry. 

Maria smiled at you and you couldn’t figure out why. 

“What?” you snapped.

“You’re a fighter.”

You smiled back, “I need the chance to show him that I know him better than he thinks I do, prove to him that he’s worthy of this love I have for him.”

“Love?” she winked at you. 

You felt your cheeks get hot and you wouldn’t look at her, but it was true. You were in love with Will Miller and you were determined to prove it to him. 

“Yes,” you barely whispered, “I’m in love with him,” you said before you downed the rest of your drink. 

“He’s at the gym with Benny, Frankie went to see him when I left to meet you. I’ll drive,” she said, as you signaled for the cheque. 

At the gym Benny caught Will off guard with an overly aggressive rib-shot which knocked the wind out of his lungs. 

“The hell was that?” he grunted at his baby brother. 

“You’re the one who said you wanted a distraction,” Benny smirked. 

Frankie shook his head from ringside. “I told you this wasn’t the answer, Will,” Frankie sighed, 

“It wasn’t going to work out, it’s better this way,” Will said firmly. 

“Ghosting? Come on man, I’ve seen how you look at her. You’ll never go through with it,” Benny said. 

“That’s why it has to be this way. If I see her again, I won’t be able to say goodbye,” Will said, licking his lips frustrated. 

Frankie lifted his hat and ran his fingers through his hair, “I know what your ex did to you messed you up,” he said. 

“She was right,” Will sighed. 

“She didn’t want the life you had, she didn't know what it means to be a warrior, what it does to a person,” Frankie said, “But the right girl, she’ll understand.” 

“Are you saying I’ve already found the right girl,” Will said, his voice sharp, “What makes you think you know anything about my relationship?”

Frankie put his hands up in a mock surrender, “I’m not saying I do, only you can know that. I’m just asking you to talk to her before you decide on her behalf how she feels.”

Benny wanders over, removing the fight tape from his hands, “I’ll drive you,” he offers before he gives a playful punch to Will’s shoulder. 

Will shakes his head, “What if she doesn’t want me anymore?” He knew his voice sounded weak, but these guys were his brothers, literally and metaphorically in all the ways that relationship could mean and they knew him better than he knew himself. He needed these guys to help him see there was any hope you could love him back, and assure him he'd be okay if you didn’t. 

Frankie claps a hand to Will’s shoulder, “Then at least you tried. All I know is that finding Maria, making it work with her, it’s the only thing keeping my head above water most days,” he said, “You deserve that too.”

“If she rejects you, we’ll get hammered,” Benny promises. Will knows Benny’s playing things light now but when push comes to shove, if things got dark for him again after this, Benny would be there every step of the way, just like last time. “I have a feeling she’ll say it back, I saw you two at Thanksgiving,” Benny said. 

Will nods, “You drive, my hands are shaking,” and he pushes Benny forward and they head out. 

They reach the door before Frankie says, “I guess I’ll clean and lock up?” and the Miller brothers waved him goodbye, tossing a “Thanks” over their retreating shoulders. 

Frankie was about to lock the doors when you and Maria walked in. 

“Is he here?” You ask before even saying hello.

“What are you doing here?” Frankie asked after giving Maria a quick kiss hello. 

“She’s here to get her man,” Maria explained. 

Frankie beamed, “I knew I liked you,” he said. 

“I like you too, Frankie, but I’m looking for Will, where is he?” You ask, craning your neck and looking around the obviously deserted gym. 

Frankie laughs, “He’s headed to your place.” 

You burst out laughing, “You’re kidding?”

“You missed him by 10 minutes.”

Maria shakes her head, “Let’s go, I guess I’m still your driver,” and the three of you file out of the gym. 

It starts raining as Maria drives you home. When she drops you off at your building, “Go get him,” she says before she kisses your cheek. 

You raced through the rain to the front door of your apartment, and you were drenched before you made it there. 

Standing in front of your door was Will, also soaked from the rain. You rushed into his arms and he pulled you in so tight and hard you were lifted clear off your feet. He crashed his lips into yours, only breaking away to repeat, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” into your skin over and over again. 

“I went looking for you,” You tried to explain, but he cut you off with a deep kiss that cleared your brain and quickened your heart rate. 

“Frankie texted me,” Will said, keeping his body pressed against yours. 

“We should go inside, talk this through,” you said, your voice serious. You turned your back on him to unlock your door, hoping for a break to collect your thoughts. This was serious business and you needed to have your wits about you, but whenever you looked into those piercing blue eyes you would get lost in the moment and would forget the bigger world.

He followed you into the apartment, his hands never leaving your body. He helped you remove your wet jacket and hung it in the closet. 

After, he sat next to you on the couch, he’s hand settling on your knee. He needed to feel you, be near you. You had gone looking for him, you didn’t give up on him, and so he didn’t know what to do now other than cling on tight. 

But then you looked at him, and he backed off. He saw the seriousness in your look and knew he was not off the hook. 

“I owe you an apology,” he started. 

“Yes, you do,” you replied to him simply, clearly waiting for the real thing. 

“I’m sorry,” he said with as much sincerity as he could muster, “I should have explained why I left.”

“Why did you? Did I do something wrong? Should I have brought up your PTSD sooner so we could’ve talked about it? I didn’t want to push,” you said, matching his sincerity in a question that stunned him. 

“You knew?” he asked. 

“The day we met you said you had your good days and your bad days, I believed you,” you said simply. 

“You remember what I said the day we met?” he asked, floored by you. 

“I remember everything.”

“I love you,” he found himself saying. There were thousands of better ways he could have told you that would’ve been more romantic, more thoughtful, but he just couldn’t help himself. He loved you and he wanted you to know. 

His words flushed over you and sent tingles through your whole body. You closed the small distance between your bodies and kissed him. You let him pull you onto his lap, your legs straddling him as you brushed your fingers through his short, wet hair, dropping your hands to his shoulders. He ran his hands up your back, leaving a trail of fire beneath his touch. 

Suddenly you broke the kiss and pulled away. He clung to the back of your shirt, gripping the fabric tightly. 

“Wait,” he begged in a whisper. 

“I love you too,” you said. 

“Oh,” Will said, and he kissed you again, “Come on, let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”

He stood, keeping your legs around him as he carried you into your bathroom. 

“I love you,” he said as he finally dropped you to your feet. 

“I know,” you said, trembling from the cold and something else you couldn’t describe but knew was all Wil’s doing. 

You pulled Will’s shirt off over his head and exposed his perfectly sculpted chest. You took advantage and placed a series of kisses across his skin. 

He quickly stripped you until you were complete naked then you stripped him completely naked as well. You grasped his already erect penis in your hand. You pumped him as you kissed him, losing yourself in him completely. 

He gently pushed you away, more gently than you’ve ever been pushed. As he started the shower you reached for him, needy.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said as he returned to you, “I just thought you’d want it warm when you stepped in.”

You followed him into your curtained shower as the hot water started to rain down. He pulled you in close as the water fell over your heads. He pulled you in tightly to his chest, and after a moment you pulled back. 

“I love you,” you said, “I want you inside me, now..”

Will looked into your eyes and saw that you meant what you said. He kissed you hard and fast. You broke the kiss and spun around, grinding your ass against him. 

“I love you, baby,” he said. 

He pushed you forward, rougher than normal but in a way that sent waves of excited pleasure through you. You felt the warm water hit your skin until he blocked the stream and pushed you against the shower wall, forcing you to brace yourself with your hands. You waited there with your ass out and hands on the wall as Will admired you.

“Touch me,” you basically begged. 

He pushed you up against the shower wall, “Are you ready for me?”

“Fuck me, baby,,” you actually begged him this time.

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he said as he lined himself up to your entrance from behind.

You were barely able to take it when he entered you with his hands wrapped around your hips. You gasped as his full length entered you, filling you completely. You braced yourself against the shower wall as he pounded into you. You felt his grip tighten, fingers digging into your flesh. 

You pushed back against the wall, trying to match his pace but you barely kept up. He wasn’t his usual patient self, you knew this was a race to a release so you brought your own fingers to your clit. 

You were so wet and so full of him, it wasn’t long until your orgasam sent flutters through you and you clenched around his cock. As you struggled to stay standing on your weak legs, Will supported you and he came himself, deep inside you. 

You felt him twitch before he pulled out. You moved to stand up straight, but he put his hand on your back and kept you bent over. 

“Let me look at you,” he whispered, barely audible over the running shower. 

You clenched at his words and he moaned as you felt his cum dripping out of you and onto the shower floor beneath you. 

Your legs were shaking as he cleaned you up, and held you in his arms. He took your body wash and lathered you up with his hands, caressing you as he went. 

When he finished cleaning you up, he turned the shower off and stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist. He grabbed your towel and wrapped you up tightly in it, rubbing your shoulders through the fluffy material. 

He kissed you gently, then trailed his lips across your jaw before travelling down your neck. He nipped at your throat then ran his tongue across the spot. 

He kissed you again and then helped you dry off before he pulled you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. He pulled back the sheets so you could slip under them. When he was sure you were comfortable he went to the kitchen and returned quickly with a glass of water and handed it to you which you accepted gratefully. When you finished he set the glass on your dresser and joined you in bed. 

You snuggled in close to Will’s side, breathing him in as you brushed your fingers across the smooth skin of his chest. After a few minutes you sighed and pushed yourself up on your elbow. 

“We still need to talk,” you said seriously. 

He kept a hand on your hip. “Okay,” he breathed, sounding tense. 

“Why’d you try and ghost me?”

“I’m not proud of it,” he started, “I thought it would be easier if I ended things before you could break it off.”

“Why did you think I’d break up with you?”

“I had a fiancée,” Will said, his voice thick.

“I know, 4 years ago, right?” You said, recalling the news you learned at Thanksgiving. 

“She left me when I was really struggling. I don’t blame her, things were really bad then, and besides that we just weren’t right for each other.”

He paused and you decided to take a guess, “but those reasons didn’t matter until your PTSD got bad, and she used that as her reason to bail,” you finished, angry on his behalf. 

“Something like that,” he forced a smile. 

You took his head in your hands, “I’m not her. I’m not going anywhere.”

He smiled at you and kissed you passionately. 

You broke the kiss, “Promise to talk to me from now on. I need you to trust me, and I need you to tell me what’s going on. I don’t want to be blindsided again.”

He nodded, solemnly. Then he traced his thumb across your check and held your face in his hand. “I swear I’m going to make this up to you. I won’t make decisions for you anymore,” he said, and you believed him. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I’m all in,” you said before you sealed the promise with a kiss. 

He took you in his arms and you felt at peace

Part 5 

[forbidding-souda]

How about Aoi, Leon, Yasu, Nagito, Soda, Chiaki and Ibuki overcare their s/o who's sick? Like, giving to s/o all blankets in house, buying 10 packs of every medicine, checking them every 15 mins, waking up at night to check them, and so on. I think s/o will be confused with such an attention to minor illnes and unsure if their love is okay but still grateful. Probably s/o will just force them to calm down and get a full night of sleep bc hey, they slept 5 hours last night awakening every 40 mins

Asahina, Leon, Hagakure, Komaeda, Souda, Chiaki and Ibuki taking care of a sick S/O

I would die for this ngl ! All the anons requesting people have such good taste in characters yes thank you.

-Mod Souda

Aoi Asahina

Aoi would make soup like once an hour just to make sure you’re not hungry.

Her mind is going to be occupied with thoughts about whether you are too hot or too cold.

“Do you need a blanket?”

“Aoi, I already have four.”

She is usually concerned about a lot of things, so you being sick makes things worse.

The front door is not going to be touched until you feel better.

She will insist on you staying in bed, too. You are not allowed anywhere else!

Her hands will stroke your head, running through your hair, and it will be the most relaxing thing in the world.

Sakura will even come by to leave you protein shakes, just in case you get tired of soup.

She’s mad she won’t be able to get any kisses while you’re sick.

But she will sleep by your side still, though on top of the blankets.

Literally doesn’t care if she gets sick.

If she catches your illness, she’s been caught slipping, but that doesn’t mean she won’t cuddle with you at night.

She’ll wake up though, suddenly, and make sure you haven’t gotten worse in the two hours she was asleep.

“Oh my god, Hina, go to sleep I am fine.”

Leon Kuwata

Panics at first.

He’s never really had a partner for as long as he has had you, so he is inexperienced when it comes to having one get sick.

Should he still kiss you? Can he hold your hand?

You end up having to ease him by stroking his face, cooing to him that you’ll be fine.

He allows you to walk around the house, but if you even try to do any house work - like the dishes - he’ll just lead you back to bed and do them himself.

“Maybe I should get sick more often.”

He misses his head rubs, though, but he won’t put you to work of any sort.

You should totally be relaxing right now! As hard work will make it even worse!

He’ll sleep on the couch, set alarms to go check on you. 

In the middle of the night he will peak in to make sure you’re not dead, and then go back to sleep.

Cancels on baseball practices, too, not like he even went to them in the first place.

You being sick is the only time you’ll get him to do housework, too.

Hagakure Yasuhiro

Very helpful boyfriend, yes yes.

He is a big listener, and he’s good at following commands.

So you tell him a grocery list, warm foods you’ll eat and the type of medicine to get, because lord if he knows.

He’ll come back with that and more, much more.

“Why did you buy five pillows.”

“Because four wasn’t enough.”

He will n e v e r leave your bed side. 

Not a second goes by you are not alone, he’ll even wait for you outside of the bathroom.

He’ll give you massages too, whenever you feel ache-y. 

That’s the best part ^.

He’s very disappointed that you won’t let him sleep next to you in bed, scared that he’ll catch whatever you have.

He responds by giving you kisses all over your face. “There, see, now I have it.”

“Oh my god.”

Nagito Komaeda

Would 100% kidnap Mikan.

Or somehow his luck would lead to her over at your house.

“Wow, Mikan, how lucky am I to have you over here?”

She’s like ??? 

But she tells Komaeda that it’s something minor, and to not worry about you.

You could have told him that.

He doesn’t listen.

Even though he brought her in the first place.

He can’t really cook, but he tries. And it’s decent, considering it’s all just healthy foods.

Your medication is definitely going into those monday tuesday wednesday things.

The usual cuddling and head rubs doesn’t stop.

It’s not like he fears anything other than you not being safe.

Really won’t sleep either.

He’ll just stay up, sitting in bed and watching you.

“Nagito, that is so weird, go to sleep.”

“But what if something happens?”

“Sleep!!”

Kazuichi Souda

Knows how to take care of somebody.

Is very soft, and caring, which is uncharacteristic.

Strokes your head every time he gives you medicine, or whenever he feeds you.

Which, you can definitely feed yourself, but he persists.

Makes you an air purifying to help you breathe and clean the air.

Also brings in a lot of fans to keep you at room temperature when you’re warm.

Honestly, he just wanted to put you in a bubble with him until you are better.

If you are too hot, he’ll run a cold bath for you to help you calm down.

“You’re not staying with me while I bathe.”

“That sucks that you think that way.”

Stands outside of the door, listening in to make sure you won’t die.

Sleeps on the floor next to your bed, and instantly checks up on you when he wakes up.

Chiaki Nanami

Puts you in a blanket caterpillar.

Makes sure you are comfortable!! That’s her main thing.

Cooking you food reminds her to eat, too, and she’ll make two of everything so you don’t have to eat alone.

Set up a chair by your bed to sit on.

Her staying up to make sure you are okay makes her more sleepy.

She’s fall asleep on your stomach a lot.

You have to ask her to game too, but she’s scared it’ll give you a headache or stress you out.

But you both sit in bed and play together.

It doesn’t stress you out like she thought, it made you feel a lot better.

She always lifts up your mood, everything she does is so cute.

In the morning, she’ll have you sit up so she could use her nails to scratch your back, kissing your shoulder blades in the process. 

She knows you’ll get better, so she isn’t too concerned, but she worries about you being uncomfortable.

Ibuki Mioda

Is the most concerned.

Gives you every blanket in the house, trying to make sure that you are alright.

She sings you to sleep every night, but she doesn’t take song requests.

Sometimes she gets way too into it and just keeps you up.

And when you’re too cold, she’ll put on a cold bath and bathe with you, cleaning you to make sure you are taking care of yourself.

In the morning, when you wake up, she’ll brush your hair.

Constantly reminds you to take medicine, even like ten minutes after she just gave you some.

Big on having you take medicine, because she thinks it’s the cure to everything.

“If you take your medicine, it’ll go away!”

“I mean, yeah, I guess.”

She also doesn’t want you to drink anything other than water.

Tea is obviously the only exception, and she likes making it for you.

She is always asking you what you need, and she listens to whatever you say, because all she wants is for you to be comfortable.

Now that you’re in one place, you two can watch movies together.

And you also are forced to lay there and listen to her ramble about something whenever she gets off topic.

[icollectyoursins]

Mer!Joseph x Reader SFW

Not gonna lie, I wrote this prompt specifically with Joseph in mind, so I just had to do this.

Joseph, your new found, fishy friend, loved to show off, but today he was just a little off his game.

SFW prompt 7: “That was-” “-Incredible? Amazing, spectacular, wonderful, jaw-dropping-” “Something."

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

Written for Sinn’s Mermay writing challenge found here.

WARNINGS: None, lots of dialogue and showing off.

Word Count: 1271

       A cool gust of wind blew through the sails of your small ship, pushing you forward. You looked out over the blue horizon, mottled orange and pink with the gradually setting sun. It was beautiful. You had been sailing for some time now and while you were no expert by any means, you had gotten into a routine of going out to just stare at the vast beauty every evening before the sunset.

      Okay, there was one other thing bringing you back.

      A loud, playful splash to your right startled you out of your peace. Turning around to find the source you saw the other thing hanging off the side of your boat. You had guess he made the splash and then booked it to try and spook you. Thank god you were used to it by now.

      “Heyy, (Y/N). Come back to admire these, hmm?” He trod in the water, showing off his muscles by flexing in the stereotypical hero pose that you saw so often.

      “Hi, Joseph,” you chuckled, moving to the side where he was and putting your feet in the water. Joseph was... well, a merman, but also someone that you now considered a friend, regardless of how annoying he was in the beginning. “Catch anything cool?”

      “Aaaah, the human is interested in what I’ve caught today? I’m flattered,” he swam closer to you, hopping up to sit beside you on the sailboat. “I sadly caught nothing. I did, however, fight with a swordfish. It was a ferocious battle that ended in blood in the water.”

      You laughed again. “If it was such a horrible fight, why aren’t you cut up?” His eyes opened up in shock, then he turned away, defeated. 

      “Fiine. Take the fun out of everything, why doncha?” He muttered before turning back to you. “I see you haven’t gotten tired of the sunset, huh?”

      “No. Who would ever get sick of a sunset like this every day?”

      “One person comes to mind. A certain fish-like person.”

      “Oh, really? You get sick of the sunset? Aren’t you underwater the majority of the day?” You ask sarcastically.

      “Eh. I prefer staring at something else.” He wiggles his eyebrows and throws you a wink, making you roll your eyes. “Besides, the sun’s always in the sky, I can see it whenever I want.”

      You shrugged, staring out into the ocean with a sigh. Joseph couldn’t help getting a little frustrated that your attention was on something other than him. Slowly, he lifted up his hand, carefully keeping it out of your view and then...

      “BOOP!” He tapped the end of your nose, startling you, causing him to laugh. You rolled your eyes again, used to his antics at this point. It didn’t bother you as much anymore, but you knew that he wouldn’t give up until you showed interest in him. You turned back to him with a thin smile on your face. 

      “Well?” He looks at you quizzically. “You want my attention, right? Well, you have it now. What’s up?” He seems at a loss. He didn’t think it would actually work. You sigh, eyes trailing down to his large, green and brown tail. His scales gleamed in the dimming light beautifully. You could just barely see his fins, long and thin, ending in a bulbous end, almost like a sea dragon. 

      “Your tail looks nice, did you do something different?” You ask, trying to spark conversation. He perks up, interested in the new topic change about him, no less.

       You listen to most of what he was saying, but honestly, you were too distracted by the mess of hair on top of his head. It was wet and yet, somehow was still sticking up on end. You reached a hand out to it, gently brushing your fingers through it. It was softer than you expected. Joseph stopped, shocked by the audacity of attempting to mess up his hair. Your diligent digits massaged his scalp, tracing through his messy locks making him hum. Maybe it wasn't that bad. He leans into you subconsciously, closing his eyes for a moment. 

       He suddenly pulls away, dipping himself back into the water to keep from drying out, then hopping back up. This time, he stretches out along the boat, putting his head in your lap. You scoffed at the wet spot now spreading across your thighs, but continued playing with his hair. The two of you sighed happily, your faces illuminated in a soft, orange-pink hue from the setting sun. Your hand travelled down to his jawline, gently running along it with a lazy finger. His sweet blue eyes look up at you, trailing down your features.

     "How was your day, huh?" He asked. You sigh again. 

     "Okay, I guess. Boring, did a lot of housework which is never fun. Had to check the boat over, make sure nothing was ripped. I noticed a scratch along the side; nothing too big, just annoying trying to get a paint that matches not to mention it'll have to dry. So, probably won't see me for a bit." You looked disappointed. That's when Joseph got an idea, something to cheer you up a bit. 

     "Well, I'll just have to make this visit one to remember, eh?" He laughs, rolling into the ocean and splashing you. He quickly swam to the depth he needed, then turn tail, swimming up until he burst through the water like a graceful torpedo. Then, he leaned back, sending him into a spin that he definitely had control over. Suddenly, and totally unexpectedly he loses control on his second roll, belly-flopping into the water with a painful slap. He hoped you couldn't see him curling in on himself, sore from the drop.

     Soon, he regained himself, proudly swimming to you. There was no way you would have thought that was an accident. He did that on purpose, obviously.

     "Eeeh? What did you think?" He asked, treading water enough to flex one arm. 

     “That was-” 

     “-Incredible? Amazing, spectacular, wonderful, jaw-dropping-”

     “Something." You chuckled, covering your mouth. God, what a dork. "Are you okay?"

     "Wha?! Do you think that hurt me? I am a creature of the ocean, my dear (Y/N)! There's not a thing in the-"

     "Joseph!" You couldn't stop laughing. He was too sweet. "You know you don't have to jump around like a Pantene commercial to impress me." He furrows his brows. 

     "What's Pantene? Delicious food?"

     "No, no! It's a shampoo and conditioner thing," you say with a smile. "Besides, I thought that maybe for once you could come visit me while the boat is getting painted? I could fill-up the bath so you don't get dry and show you what Pantene is. What do you think?" 

     Joseph stares at you for a minute, pretending to think about the decision, as if he hadn't made up his mind the minute you asked.

     "Fiiine. If you want me to partake in your human things, I will." You grin at him, getting up to get the boat ready as you talked.

     "Great! I can turn the boat around and you can-"

     SPLASH-THUD!

     You turn around to see Joseph lying on your boat, a cocky smile on his face. 

     "Well? Come on, we don't have all day. Show me what this uh... sail can do!"

[antigoneidk]

Concept: Tom and you have lazy parents sex lol and you’re having conversations through it “did you turn the washing machine on?” “Yh, did you iron the kids clothes ah fuck-” lmao idk why but this concept has me so soft and it’s so funny at the same time

Lazy boy|t.h.

a/n: thank you so much for your request love💞I'm sorry for any mistakes:)

warnings: bad written sex, a few bad words

_

You had been awaken a while now, to get your housework done such as cleaning the toys all over the house, doing the dishes, putting your laundry. And you wanted to do more but all of them were sleeping and you didn't want to be the bad guy at this situation. So you went back to your bedroom, laying down to your bed and staring at the ceiling for a few moments, getting your thoughts and problems in order.

Your husband was sleeping next to you calmly.Or that's what you thought.

You turned your head to the side to make sure he wasn't awake but he had his eyes open looking to yours, his arms around his pillow.

"Why are you like that?"he asked and you now turned to him pulling closer the blanket to your body and cover half of your face.

"I don't wanna get up"you whispered, your voice deeper than usual.

"Then don't" he stretched his upper body, his veins popping up soon enough and you bit your lower lip at the view.

"But I have to, the kids need to finish their work" you growled. Even though you were always thankful for your two kids that you and Tom had brought to life and how little they were and innocent and just adorable, there were times like these you wished they were old enough to study by themselves.

"Babe. They can wait for a little longer" his hand reached your face rubbing your cheek. You closed your eyes at the sensation of his palm against your warn skin. You moaned at the pleasure without thinking of your action. He was now the one biting his lip, suddenly turned on by you.

You slightly opened your eyes and approached him to leave a kiss to his lips and with slow moves tried to get up. His arm around your waist stopped your movements and dropped you back to the bed, with him on the top of you.

You were lazy and felt that kind of tiredness someone's feeling after a nap, that you didn't have enough strength to push him away. And after all you enjoyed his idle wet kisses on your neck. He was sleepy, his eyes closed and his cheeks puffed, his hair a mess, looking cute.

He pulled your shirt just over your chest, exposing your nipples to the cold air for a moment, his tongue came in touch with one of them and started to play with it with rush.

"I need to wake them Tom" you ran your fingers through his curls and arched your back a little, liking the feeling. He didn't say a word as he continued his job, kissing your belly and getting lower and lower. In a matter of seconds your lower body was naked in front of him.

He slipped one finger inside you, making sure that you were wet enough for him and for his satisfaction and then he got rid of his sweatpants and underwear without wasting any of your time.

He got again in top of you kissing your lips. You legs wrapped his torso as you pulled his body near you, needing him more than ever.

"I thought you wanted to wake the kids"

"Shut up" you held back the moan you wanted to let out so desperately. You opened your eyes, his already admiring you and how weak all of the sudden you became. You hated that after all this years and still had this power to you.

The washing machine from the other room did a loud noise, and you found the chance to let out a moan too. He continued to grind into you, his breath tickling you, his one hand rubbing your other nipple slowly.

"Did you put the washing machine on?"he asked, moaning at the sensation of your walls around him

"Yes,see I did a lot of stuff,oh,as long as you,fuck,you were sleeping" you couldn't fight the joy you felt, even though the both of you were lazy for crazy things. Still, he send shivers down your spine, you trembling under him.

"What about you take now care of the kids huh?"your hands got tighter, pulling his curls and face back, him screaming your name and hitting you g-spot, the walls now spinning.

"I am not that patient and you know that first hand" you looked down,him already smirking at you.

"I cannot believe you Tom, uhh hell"you leaned back at your pillow, seeing stars from how good he made you feel. Sweat was dripping from your chest down to your belly.

"Um..did you iron the kids clothes..uhh fuck babe"he hit your spot once more, both of you getting closer to the edge.

"No why?"you asked raising your eyebrows.

"We have the party tonight y/n"

"What the hell, Tom" you screamed but none of you knew if this was a loud moan or you yelling at him.

"Fuck y/n I'm already close"his lips met yours in an effort to stop the sounds coming from your mouth, that otherwise it would be music to his ears and a blessing to hear you moaning his name.

"I'm.."you didn't get to finish your sentence as you got to your edge, your cum mixing with his, as he finished after you. He placed his head to your bare chest, his ear next to your heart that was bearing like crazy.

"That was fast"he said as his fingers began to doing circles to your

stomach. You stayed silent for a moment, trying to catch your breath before speaking.

"Get up"you demand suprising Tom.

"Why?"

"You have to iron the clothes my love. I can do this and studying with them at the same time"

[ashintheairlikesnow]

okay what do we need to do to get that Chris on campus with Jake thing to happen because we will do it

Okay it’s not the whole thing or anything (I can work on that actually if you want) but here’s like six oh whoops it turned into a bunch of paragraphs of cute off the top of my head:

CW: VERY vaguely referenced past noncon/exploitation/abuse, recovering pet whumpee, conditioned responses, referenced/implied that character is potentially underaged

“Why can’t I-… I want to wear my, my, um, my my sweatshirt today, why can’t I wear that?” Chris stares longingly, almost pleadingly, as Jake tosses the balled-up dirty thing in the washing machine, smiles to himself. Two-pointer, he thinks. Not that he’s played sports since junior year of high school or anything, but he didn’t exactly suck at basketball.

“It’s too warm for sweatshirts and you’ve been wearing it for four days straight, Chris,” Jake says, pulling some clothes out of the neatly folded piles of clean shirts and pants that stay on a series of shelves in the laundry room for the rescues to pick from. Most rescues take a couple of weeks to start choosing things to keep in their rooms - Chris has been here for three and all he wants to wear is Jake’s sweatshirt and basketball shorts they’d found in the back of one of the closets, something a past rescue had left behind when they moved out to start fresh. “This is nothing. Look, you’ll still be covered up, I promise.”

“I, I will? Do you promise?” Chris hugged himself, all wiry limbs with the same forced sense of lithe gracefulness all the Romantics ended up with after training. “I don’t like um, like my skin showing I don’t like there to be too much, too much skin, Jake.”

Or any skin, Jake thinks. If it was up to Chris, they’d never see anything but his eyes. He had a feeling whoever Sir was had had a thing for Chris’s hair, too, in the past three days Chris had started to talk about dyeing it black or redder or just another color entirely. He’d seen Jake looking at a photo of a girl with pierced ears and mentioned he might want earrings, too.

That was all going to be big steps - Jake figures he’ll talk about it for a few months before he can do anything on his own. 

“Yeah, I promise. You know the rules here, Chris, you don’t show a single inch of skin to anybody ever unless you feel comfortable.”

“I, I, I would feel comfortable showing to-… to you, Jake,” Chris says, a little shyly. If he turns around, he knows, Chris’s face will be red, just at the cheekbones, and he’ll be doing that thing they all do where they tilt their head just the right way, just a little to the side, biting down on their lower lips to show they’re interested.

It’s probably pretty fucking seductive, if you’re a piece of shit pervert who orders one of them. When you’ve seen six of them do it, nearly robotically, falling back into motions trained into their muscle memory deeper than thought, it’s just creepy as shit.

“I know you would, buddy,” Jake says, keeping his eyes on the clothing. “But remember, we have rules about that, here.”

“Yeah, I, I know, I like the, um, the, the rules. I like them.” Chris sounds relieved, as though he’d said the words worrying that Jake would take him up on it or something. And probably he was worried about it - Nat seemed to think he was testing them, without even knowing.

Jake checks over the smaller sizes and pulls out a pair of straight-leg jeans, nothing special but they won’t cling, they’ll sit loose on Chris’s hips and won’t say anything about the shape of his legs. He tosses them over along with a random pair of boxers, and the rescued Box Boy quickly sheds his pajama pants and switches over to the new things while Jake has his back turned looking for shirts. 

“Is, um, are, are are are people going to, to look at me a lot today? Or not? Are they going to look? Is, um, because what if my Sir sees a picture, if if he, if he-”

Your ‘Sir’ knows where you are. You were a dirty little secret and that motherfucker isn’t going to say a fucking thing.

Jake doesn’t say it. Instead, he just turns with the shirts in hand and gives Chris a comforting, reassuring smile. “No, man. Look, remember what we talked about?”

Chris nods, his eyes going wide and solemn, very serious about the things he’d been asked to memorize. “My name is Christopher Garner and I, I, um, I’m your father’s brother’s oldest son and I, I, I’m visiting from Michigan and that’s the name of a, um, of a state in the United States of America and that is where we live.”

“Great. Just… don’t start telling everybody everything all at once, okay? But it’s good that you remember all of it. First things first, let’s cover up your number okay?”

He hands Chris a long-sleeved shirt and the boy pulls it on over his head, the strawberry-blond pushing through the spot for the neck and fluffing out around his head, mussed up and standing on end. He looks fucking adorable, like a little kid.

Because he probably still IS one, and if anyone would tell me who that fucking Sir is I’d rip his throat out with my goddamn teeth like that lady in the third Honor Bound movie did. 

That was a movie series he couldn’t watch with the rescues. Too… close, in some ways, to shit some of them had already seen. But Jake had his own DVD copies he watched sometimes while studying or doing homework. 

Chris is frowning at the cuffs on the ends of his sleeves, examining them up close. His green eyes have gone slightly crossed. “Why’s there a hole?”

“For your thumbs. Let me show you.” Jake steps forward and carefully shifts the cloth around, slipping Chris’s thumb through the purposefully cut hole just below the cuff. “See? Now you don’t have to worry about it riding up and showing your barcode. Plus, it’s kind of a thing a lot of people are doing on campus, so you’ll fit in.”

“I’ll fit in?” Chris looks up at him - up and up and up, the kid is so short - and Jake smiles back down. “Will I? I’ll, um, I’ll fit in?”

“Well… mostly. You’ll fit right in as my cousin, right?” Jake grins down, rubbing lightly at his shoulders, and Chris smiles back with an expression of such absolute trust that it physically hurts to look at him.

Everything they went through made them all so fucking trusting, so naïve and so ready to accept any hint of goodness that came their way as genuine. It was like… like trying to teach a dog to be a person.

“Right,” Chris says firmly. “Cousin. Christopher Garner, who comes from, from, from Minnesota-”

“Michigan.”

“Right. Michigan.” Chris’s face fell, just a little. “I’m, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to to to um, to get it wrong-”

“You’re fine, Chris. We’ll practice on the bus on the way. Now, throw this one, too.” He hands him  thin zip-up hoodie, and Chris looks finally perfectly comfortable once he’s pulled the hood up and over his head. Every bit of skin he could reasonably cover is covered. Only his bangs stick out to show he had blond hair at all.

“It’s a long day for me, so we’re going to be on campus for a long time. I’ve got money for food and stuff, and listen-… Chris, this is important, very, very important that you remember this.”

Chris swallows, hard, and nods. He fixes his eyes on Jake with total focus. “Yes, Jake.”

“If you get hungry, or thirsty, or you have to use the bathroom, you absolutely have to tell me. Do you understand?”

Chris frowns, eyebrows furrowing. They’re the same pale copper as his hair, and sometimes in dim light it’s hard to tell he has any. “But we don’t decide if we’re hungry-”

“Yes, you do, Chris. Now, you do. With me, you get to decide when you eat food, okay? I don’t care if it’s ‘lunchtime’, or whatever. You just tell me you need something and I’ll take care of you, okay?”

Chris looks doubtful, but nods, slowly. “Okay, Jake. I can, um, I can do that, but you don’t have to feed me I’m used to not, to not eating, it doesn’t bother me I don’t even um feel, I don’t, don’t feel hungry much I don’t.”

“I know, buddy. But we’re going to try and concentrate on feeling hungry more. I’m going to buy you a coffee and a scone before my first class-”

“Are you, um, are you getting-”

“Yeah, I’ll get one too.” Chris relaxes, going nearly boneless in relief. Jake reaches out to take his hands - long, thin fingers not roughened or reddened by housework. They’re a little cold, but warm quickly to his touch, and Chris tightens his grip immediately, looking up at Jake, eyes wide and almost adoring. “You can do this, Chris, okay? I trust you. I believe in you.”

Chris’s fingers start to tremble in Jake’s grip, and his lips press together. His eyes tear up, just a little. “D-do you really, Jake? Am I good, to be trusted? Am I, um, am I am I am I-”

“You’re very good, Chris,” Jake says, softly. “And you’re going to do great. Okay, one more time. Who are you?”

“Christopher Garner but I like to be called Chris,” Chris says, each word dropped with importance, with gravity. For once, he thinks it all carefully through before he speaks. “I’m from Michigan, the part shaped like a mitten, and Michigan is a state in the United States of America, which is a country, and it’s our country where we live. I’m your cousin because your dad is my dad’s brother. I’m staying with you because my parents are on a cruise and I’m too young to stay home alone because I’m not eighteen.” 

“Perfect, buddy.”

Chris hesitates, looking guilty. “Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“I, um. I am eighteen.”

I’ll bet my left goddamn testicle you’re not. Doing this to you should count as a fucking justifiable homicide when I find that son of a bitch and gut him-

“I know, man.“ Jake’s voice stays soft and soothing. “But it’s just for the story.”

“… okay, okay, it’s just, um, just just for the story, I can do that. I can.” Chris nods quickly, giving Jake’s hands a tight squeeze with his own. 

Jake smiles, pulling back to ruffle the coppery hair. Chris glows at the attention, the affection, tilting his head into it like a cat. 

“Okay, bud. I think we’re ready. Let’s go catch the bus. If we get the 6:45 instead of the 7:15 we’ll have time to drink our coffee before my first class.”

He leads Chris out, the young rescue repeating his story quietly to himself, hands buried in the pockets of his zipup, his barcode and number safely hidden underneath his shirt, determined to make Jake proud and pretend to be just another free person like everyone else. 

[snippychicke]

Aftermath--Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Rating: Everyone

Warnings: Mentions of violence?

Fandom: Umbrella Academy; The Swedes specifically 

Note: slight word difference than the AO3version because I did some minor editing and I’m too lazy to update both. Nothing major, this may just flow better. 

First | Previous

Otto didn't have anywhere to go anywhere, but even if he did, Otto questioned if he would. Not unless he had his family back.

He missed his brothers and thought of them regularly. Oscar would be giving him such a hard time over everything, from struggling to adapt to having just one eye to how fond he was of his new housemate. There were times first thing when he woke to the subtle smells of breakfast that his hazy mind thought Axel was downstairs cooking. Then Lorelei would chasten one of the cats, and reality would crash down on him.

But for the first time since his childhood, he felt protective of someone outside his family. He wasn't used to it, mostly since she was far more outgoing than his brothers. 

Even before The Commission, he had gone through life not caring much about anyone outside his family. All that mattered was family; the rest of the world was not his problem.

Lorelei seemed to think the exact opposite. People drifted to her house for medical advice or just to gossip. Raymond was far from the only person who dropped by just for a cup of coffee on her days off to simply catch up. Despite his uninterest in the gossip, he found himself lingering nearby out of both habit and paranoia. 

Such as the Friday night when the quiet evening was interrupted by pounding on the front door again. Soon the living room was full with three teenage boys and two girls; the girls were huddled together on the couch, their makeup running lightly from tears while two of the boys were barely containing their pent-up energy as they paced the living room. The third was sitting backward in the straight-back hardwood chair as Lorelei carefully stitched up the knife wound to his back. (Too shallow to do any damage, Otto mentally scoffed at whoever attacked him. The wound still healing on his leg from Oscar was deeper.)

"We need to go find those punks," one of the two boys finally broke the tense silence. "I'm sick and tired of them damn white boys thinking they can do whatever they please. No offense," he tacked on as Otto shifted from his place leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, feeling on guard with this many people in <strike>their</strike> the house. Especially when the younger men seemed itching for a fight.

Otto just stared at the young boy. The teen quickly looked away, scratching his head as he turned away and drifted back towards his friends. No. There was no way the child would have the strength or guts to act out revenge. His threats were as empty as the food dish once Poyo finished. 

"The hell you are," Lorelei apparently agreed as she finished the knot and snipped the string free. "You are all going to go home and stay there. And if you see that gang of punks again, you're going to turn the other way and leave."

"You want us to run away?!" The second boy protested, his eye swelling shut from the black eye since he kept taking the frozen bag of peas away from his face. "They'll really have no respect for us if we do that!"

"If you three get in a fight," she countered as she dabbed away the blood with plenty of hydrogen peroxide, not even bothering to look up, "no matter who started it, and no matter who ended it, you three will be painted as the villains. And it won't help the Movement any either," she continued as the boy opened his mouth to protest, glancing up with a strong look. "Sometimes, you have to lose a battle to win a war."  

The teen ground his teeth but kept silent as Lorelei finished her bandage. "Now, all of you, go home. Ask your parents for some aspirin, and then get some sleep. Got it?"

 Otto thought for a short moment  that things would settle back to normalcy for a short moment after the teens shuffled out the door until Lorelei’s fist slammed on the doorframe as soon as it was closed. "I am going to find those damn brats and give them a piece of my mind!" Lorelei seethed as she glared at the old oak. "Stabbing a boy with his back turned! What kind of yellow belly snake does that?"

The mood whiplash caught Otto by surprise. He tilted his head slightly as he watched her storm back to her workspace and angrily picking up the dirtied rags and instruments. "I'd show those brats. I want to say I'd drag them home by their ears and tell their mothers what they did, but knowing this damned town, they'd probably see nothing wrong with it!"

Otto was rather intrigued by the flare of rage; it was his first time seeing Lorelei angry. It was rather cute seeing the snarl on her lips as she continued to mutter to herself, almost as if she had forgotten he was there. 

After a moment, he crossed the room and took the bundle of bloodied rags from her silently. The faint blush on her face as she quietly thanked him proved he had guessed right. She had forgotten he had been watching. 

"...why do people hate each other like that?" She whispered as they worked together to handwash the rags in the kitchen sink a few minutes later. "I never understood why skin color made any difference. Nana Chestnut and her family were so much better than my real kin growing up. But people just hate on them without ever even trying to figure out what kind of person they are."

Otto was silent, unsure if there was a right answer, or even if Lorelei was looking for one. And to be honest, he didn't understand it either. He had seen it through the years but had ignored it as another part of the civilian life he would never understand. A part he had no interest in understanding. "I could hunt them down?" He offered quietly, though he highly doubted that's what she really wanted. 

Sure enough, the dubious expression on her face confirmed his thoughts. All that anger, but she was far too soft to act against another. Or even have someone else do it for her. 

He tried not to think of when he was willing to do something for someone else when there was no benefit for him. Because if Lorelei had said yes, his target wouldn't see the next sunrise.

The frown smoothed away into a slight smile as she shook her head. With her hands covered in red-stained suds, she rested her head against his arm. "...no. But thank you for listening to me crab." 

He was silent, but enjoyed the warmth that soaked through his shirt from the contact. Enjoyed the warmth that bloomed in his chest as she smiled up at him. 

                                                        --+--

"I have so many concerns," Raymond commented the next time he came over and saw not only the cats happily making themselves at home, but Oscar who was once more practicing his aim on the garage, though this time with small hatchets which she wasn't sure where he had found. 

"Hey, you were always worried about me living by myself," Lorelei replied as she busied herself with pouring some tea, hoping to drag Raymond away from the kitchen window where he watched Otto. (Partially so she wouldn't be caught ogling the man, stripped to just a simple cotton shirt despite the early December afternoon, sweat sticking to his muscles….) 

Raymond opened his mouth, closed it, sighed, and ruffled his short hair as he turned and joined her at the kitchen table. "I was thinking more along the lines of a guard dog, Lei. Or maybe an actual husband. Not a dozen cats and a would-be murderer."

"I think I prefer Otto." She grinned at his dark look. "Look, I get you started on the wrong foot…"

"Attempted murder is hardly the wrong foot!"

"But he's a decent guy, I'm telling you," she continued as if she didn't hear him. "He cleans and does a better job than me. How many men you know are willing to split housework?"

"That's what you're focusing on?" He spluttered while gesturing towards the back yard. "Not him throwing hatchets at your garage? Or the fact he barely speaks English? Are you just going to support him?" 

"Just because he's quiet doesn't mean he can't speak our language," she retorted, her eyes narrowing. "And that garage is one good storm away from being a pile of tinder anyways, and it's working on the hand-eye coordination after losing half his vision!" 

Raymond gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take a breath. Getting in a shouting match was not good for either of them. "Look. I just worry about you. Can you blame me for not trusting him? After what he did to Allie and me?" 

The reminder struck her hard. Otto was someone entirely different for her than who Raymond saw. She couldn't exactly blame him for his feelings of mistrust and suspicion. Yet, at the same time, it was getting harder and harder for her to see Otto as the violent man Raymond saw. Not when she's seen him tugging yarn around for the cats to play with. Or relaxing on the couch with a cat curled on his chest and another on his stomach. Or splitting the clean up after their meal. 

Or seen him through the cracked door of his room, holding that milkman hat and looking so absolutely heartbroken. Hearing him waking up from a dead sleep with a shout of fear and grief. 

"There's more to him than that," she finally said quietly, looking away. 

"But it's still a part of him. Do you even know anything about his past? Why did he and his brother attack us? Where is he even from? Why is he staying with you?" 

She stayed silent, eyes focused on her glass of tea. She didn't. She pointedly didn't ask and tried not to wonder. 

Raymond sighed as he stood, the chair scratching against the hardwood floor. "I'll be the first to admit that there was a lot to Allie I didn't know. A lot of questions I should've asked but didn't. I wanted to be happy, so I turned a blind eye. And it cost me a lot more than I expected. Are you willing to pay that same price?" 

Silence hung in the air once more as she refused to lift her gaze from the table. Raymond sighed again. "Look, I know you're a grown woman, and you want to live your own life, but just… think about it, okay?"

She nodded her head, still unable to look up even as he left, the door sticking as it shut behind him, making the whole house rattle as he forced it close. Only then did she move, standing and wrapping her arms around her. For some reason, her feet lead her to the back door, opening it with a hard pull and stepping out into the chilly air. The steady thunk of a blade against wood was oddly soothing as she settled on the cement step, Raymond's words swirling in her mind. 

Who was Otto? Was that even his actual name? What was he doing in Dallas? What was he doing with her? Had she been so lonely that she had just accepted it? 

Where did he get the cats from? 

She was broken from her thoughts as Otto's well-worn leather boots appeared in her vision. She looked up, meeting his silent but understanding gaze. She rubbed her eyes, knowing it looked like she was on the verge of crying. "Sorry, did I break your concentration?" 

He glanced at the improvised target before back to her and offered a hand. She frowned slightly but accepted it, unsurprised about how easily he pulled her to her feet, and more surprised that he led her to where he had the six hatchets laying on an old stump. Wordlessly, he positioned her in the marks in the dead grass made by his boots and put one of the hatchets in her hand. 

"What? You're kidding me, right?" She gave a slight disbelieving laugh as he stepped back. "I-I'm not; I can't…"

"Try," he said as she trailed off weakly. She looked down at the tool in her hand; the wood handle still warm from his grasp, the blade polished and sharpened to a fine point (just like every knife in the house now). She looked back at him, a little lost, but he just tilted his head toward the garage. 

"This is such a bad idea," she muttered before mimicking a baseball player's stance and giving her best. The hatchet made it maybe halfway before falling onto the grass.

"See, I told you…" she trailed off as he picked up the next one and stepped towards her. He placed it in her hand before silently adjusting her stance. She was pretty sure her face was red as he guided her hips and legs before standing behind her and covering her hands with his. 

"Aim like this," he spoke softly, positioning her arm. "Feel how the weapon balances in your hand. Focus it on finding its mark. Inhale," he commanded as he pulled her arm back, and she couldn't help but obey before he gently mimicked a pitch. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she was sure her face was red. She had never heard him talk so much and hadn't quite realized how deep or smooth his voice was until he was all but murmuring in her ear. "And exhale. Now try." 

She missed his warmth as soon as he stepped away and automatically looked back at him. He simply gestured towards the garage wall. Lorelei turned around, trying to focus and remember his words and less of his warmth and gentleness. 

This time, the blade stuck in the ground less than a foot from the garage's foundation. Seeing the metal buried in the grass sent a thrill of pride as she grinned.

And then Otto gave her another hatchet. “Again.”

                                                         ---+---

The sun had set below the horizon by the time Otto allowed her to quit. Her arms were sore, and her fingers stiff as she fell back on the cement step, rolling her shoulders tenderly as he settled beside her. 

But a single hatchet was buried in the faded white paint wood panel. She hadn't felt that much pride in a long time as when she finally made her mark. Or when Otto gave her a proud smile and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Better?" 

"Sorta," she admitted truthfully, though now her body was at rest, her mind started its questions once more. "Can I...Can I ask you a question?"

She hesitantly met his good eye. No matter what they were doing, she inevitably ended up on his good side. Maybe she did it unconsciously, or maybe he planned it that way. Perhaps he didn't trust her enough to leave her in his blind spot. 

There was doubt in his expression, but he shrugged slightly anyways. "Were you...were you really trying to kill Ray and Allie?"

His look quickly darkened, the warmth in his expression disappearing as he looked away from her. "...Yes." 

Even though she knew the answer, it still felt like a sucker-punch to her gut. "Why?"

"It was our job," he answered simply. 

Job? "...Do you still plan on killing them?" She whispered after. A long moment. "Are you...are you just here to try again?" Was she just a pawn? Was she being played like a fiddle after all? 

"No." He answered, his hand finding hers as it clutched at her knee, carefully encouraging her fingers open so he could thread his fingers with hers. "I...have no one." He admitted, and this time he was the one unable to meet her gaze but kept his eye focused on their joined hands. "My brothers are gone. But if you want me to leave, I will."

There were tears in her eyes when he did finally look up at her, the hurt she had seen shadows of once more open and bared for her to see. 

"Please don't. Don't leave me." She said, echoing the expression written so plainly on his face. "I don't have much. This place is a wreck. And I know we barely know each other, but…"

"I'll stay." 

                                                         ---+---

Icy rain tapped on the window, the aged wood of the house occasional creaking from the chill, lulling him to a semi-sleep. Otherwise, the house was silent, with only the occasional whisper of sound as the cats padded in or out of his room. Not the tiny room on the first floor, but one of the ones upstairs. 

It had taken a good couple of days for both of them to sort through the mess of the two spare bedrooms on the second floor, turning one into a proper bedroom and the other an organized storeroom. (Lorelei kept apologizing because of the mess, but he was more distracted by seeing her hair covered by a colorful kerchief, the stray strands sticking to her flushed face, that he barely heard her.) 

He slept better on the slightly larger bed. It felt less like a temporary room and something more permanent, though habits were hard to kick. He had his bag still packed with necessities and sitting underneath his bed. But he allowed himself to set the few pictures he had usually carefully packed away to sit on the nightstand in frames Lorelei had found for him. 

(No questions were asked when she saw the pictures of him and his brothers, though he could see the curiosity on her face. Someday he wanted to be able to talk to her about them. Share his memories of his family. But the pain was still too fresh, so he was thankful she respected his silence.) 

A sharp crack of thunder broke the silence, and the split-second flash of light had given him enough warning not to jump. 

It hadn't prepared him for the ear-splitting scream of terror. He had grabbed the gun beneath his pillow in one quick motion and was running across the hall, breaking the door down to Lorelei's room, eye searching the darkness for an intruder. 

Instead, it was just her hunched in her bed, hands over her head as she flinched away from him; her hazel eyes widened with fear. 

Of him. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she gasped as she shook. "I didn't--I didn't…"

He lowered his gun quickly, guilt turning his stomach. "Lorelei," he started, "I--"

"Otto?" She interrupted, relaxing somewhat, the wild look leaving her eyes. "I-I thought…" another flash of light and a crack of thunder, and he watched her turn as stiff and panicked as deer in headlights before shaking herself out of it a moment later with a whimper. '"I'm sorry," she whispered as she turned back to him, "I didn't mean to wake you up." 

Otto hesitated before carefully entering, watching her for any signs of fear. Instead, she shifted in her bed to make room for him. The mattress sunk as he settled next to her, giving her room yet close enough to feel her warmth radiating into the cold room.  

She wasn't as timid as usual, scooting close enough to press against his side. He could feel her tremble as thunder cracked once more. "I am a grown-ass adult scared of thunder," she spat abysmally. "How pathetic is that?"

He was at a loss for what to do. Fear was not something familiar to him; not personally, and he couldn't recall the last time he saw his brothers scared.

How did someone go about comforting another? If it was his brothers, he would have gone after whatever had dared to frighten them. 

Without thinking, he offered the automatic rifle he had brought. She stared at the gun before looking up at him with a quizzical expression. "...I don't think shooting anything is going to help."

"Wouldn't hurt," he countered and earned a slight smile and faint chuckle before she sank into his side. He allowed the gun to rest on the bed and wrapped his arm around her back, holding her to him. They were both quiet as the clock ticked on. Gradually a few of the cats strayed in, looking rather inquisitive. Everytime the thunder cracked and she flinched, his hold would tighten, his thumb rubbing circles on her arm.

"Who were you scared of?" He finally asked the question brewing in his mind. Who had she seen standing in the doorway that terrified her? Who had ingrained in her the need to apologize for screaming out in fear? 

Lorelei was silent, though a glance assured him that she understood what he meant. Her expression was drawn as she soothed Nala's thick orange coat as the kitten settled on her lap. "My dad," she finally answered. "He hated it whenever I woke him up. He's been dead for years now, and I still…." 

"Good." He said after she trailed off. 

"Good?"

He shrugged, "You'd get upset."

She stared at him before realization set in. To his astonishment, she snorted and chuckled. "Is it horrid of me if I said I'd choose you over him?" 

Otto felt something twist in his chest at the admission. Family to him was everything. It was nothing more than a hypothetical statement, but… for her to put him before her father meant a lot to him. 

She meant a lot to him. He thought back to the terror on her face, the sharp pain in his gut when he thought she was scared of him. He had thought most of that guilt and dread was behind him. Granted, most of the ones he had killed were often less than innocent, but…. "Don't...ever be afraid of me." He said softly as he brushed a stray strand away from her face, carefully tucking it behind her ear. 

Her freckled cheeks turned pink as she smiled. "I don't think I could. I know you wouldn't hurt me." 

He had lost count of how many people he had killed. There was no way to total the number of bystanders that ended up as casualties because of him. A trail of blood followed him and his brothers wherever they went.

And yet….

His fingers traced the curve of her face, his gaze drawn to her lips as they shifted from a smile to being slightly parted.  His nose brushed hers as he leaned down, his eye closing before…

A cold water droplet fell right on his nose.

Both of them jumped back, the moment broken. Lorelei cursed another drop of water fell on her forehead before jumping to her feet and dashing off for a bucket, curses following her down the stairs. Otto glared up at the ceiling where the roof was leaking. 

If that wasn't Oscar haunting him, he would eat his boot.

                                                        --+--

Back in the hospital, John Doe sneezed.

Next

[rotationalsymmetry]

Living with CFS/ME overview (your mileage may vary):

Doctors: can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em. Do your own research if you can, if you can tell something is bad for you don’t do it, and if your doctor doesn’t believe anything is wrong with you get a new one (if at all possible.) Don’t expect perfect understanding, do deal with your feelings outside of appointments and not during them, do have clear requests as much as possible. Do expect competence: not dismissiveness, not ignoring what you say, not failing to do relevant lab tests. Write stuff down, before and after. If possible, have someone else come with you to appointments (especially if you have serious brain fog issues and/or are the sort of person doctors tend to not take seriously.) With emails, some doctors will only answer one question per email, so if you have five questions that means writing five separate emails. Don’t be afraid to be pushy, as long as you’re pushing for something the doctor can actually give you.

Getting stuff done. You can’t. At least, not as much. Do you need help with: housework, shopping, childcare, filing for benefits? Personal hygiene? Figure out how to get what you can and learn to live without what you can’t. Delegate as much as possible. Whatever weird feels you have about accepting help, figure out how to set them aside and accept help anyways.

Other people: in my experience most people will take your lead. If you tell them you’re not sure what’s going on or aren’t sure what to do about it, you will get more suggestions and advice than you know what to do with. If you want sympathy, you might get that (or you might get unwanted advice — sometimes saying explicitly what you want helps.) If you talk about your illness like a totally routine thing that you’ve totally got, the advice and general “oh shit I want to help but don’t know how” goes away. In my experience.

On that note: it’s OK and a good idea to tell people explicitly what you want from them. “If we’re going on vacation together I need a place to stay with no stairs.” “What would really help is if someone could run groceries once a week for me or pay for delivery.” “I could really use help from someone who knows how to read scientific articles.” “I could really use some patience and understanding about sometimes having to cancel plans at the last minute.” “I need a therapist who’s worked with people with chronic illness before.” Whatever.

Fuck exercise. Or rather: stretchy gentle exercise can be fine/good, strength exercises that you can do without raising your heart rate might be fine; anything that raises your heart rate is much higher risk. Walking is appropriate exercise for people with CFS, just be careful to not overdo it. (I am not joking.) Personally, I do a lot of yoga, but I’m not exactly doing sun salutations. It’s yin yoga and restorative yoga and a small amount of strength exercises. And...pranayama. Exercise for people with CFS/ME doesn’t look the same way as it does for people without it. That thing where it’s good for healthy people to take the stairs and this and that? Not for you. Be lazy. Do things the lowest energy way possible.

PEM and pacing: it’s all about the activity intolerance. Sometimes you run out of steam right away, sometimes it happens two days later. If your body says “stop” it means it; if it gives you a green light it might be lying. If you’re getting some days that feel almost normal and some days when sitting upright is a Herculean task, chances are if you do a lot less and try to do approximately the same amount of stuff each day, you’ll figure out what your sustainable “energy envelope” is. Or how many spoons you have, if you prefer that metaphor. And, most likely, you’ll end up with way fewer “can’t sit up” days.

Breaking things up means you can do more with less consequence. Eg: wash dishes until the first hint of feeling tired, take a break and sit or lie down for five minutes, then keep going. Pushing past the point you feel tired is risky.

In particular, in some situations you may be excited or stressed enough to not notice when you’re tired, so sometimes it makes sense to plan breaks rather than relying on the self awareness approach. When I play games with my partner, for instance, we set a timer for half an hour.

Adaptive equipment and behaviors: I use a folding stool in my everyday life and a wheelchair (provided by the airport) if I have to travel by plane. At one point I figured out how to wash dishes in a plastic basin sitting down (although, paper plates are an option too.) My partner and I leave a couple cooking pots on the stove and the things I use most often on the counter, since digging up a pot from the floor level cabinet that’s full of pots is much more tiring than the pot already being where I want it. In general, stuff above shoulder level or below waist level is significantly harder to get to. If showering standing is tiring, get a shower chair. Some grocery stores have motor scooters that can be used by disabled customers (that means you.) Grabbers can help with things like when a sock falls on the floor and you don’t want to have to bend to pick it up. If your walking is very limited, but you have someone who can push you around, a rolling walker with a seat may be more affordable than a wheelchair.

How to get your doctor to prescribe you a wheelchair so that your insurance will cover it: your doctor is worried you’ll lose mobility due to walking less, so if you actually want a wheelchair so that you can get outside and do more stuff for longer, focus on that. Ditto for a scooter. I’ve found writing a comprehensive list of what I can’t do or can only do with great difficulty, and handing the list to my doctor, is significantly more effective for getting taken seriously than mentioning one or two limitations and expecting the doctor to be able to extrapolate. Make it easy for them to do what you want them to. (Sorry if this sounds manipulative. My experience is that if you come in assuming your doctor will just give you what you need as long as you’re up front and trust them, you’re going to be sadly disappointed. I was not like this before I got CFS and spent months practically begging doctors to take me seriously.)

Taking naps or non-sleeping lying-down rests during the day might help. Yoga nidra, progressive muscular relaxation, or some sort of guided visualization can help with relaxation. You can also just lie there and let your mind wander, but if your mind tends to wander to sad or worrying sorts of places then you should give it something to do. One note of caution: if you’re near your limit you might feel more tired after a rest, that doesn’t mean the rest was bad for you but it does mean you gave the tired a chance to catch up with you. I do think the benefit comes as much from doing it regularly over time as from any one rest by itself though. (I can’t do anything on time, so for me “regularly” means “to within about two hours, most of the time.”)

On that note: your feelings matter. Stress and extreme emotions can take as much out of you as grocery shopping or a two hour zoom call. So...therapy if possible, self help books, doing things that help you feel calm and put things in perspective. You might need new coping strategies if your old ones take too much energy.

Some people with CFS have more energy/activity tolerance/spoons in the morning and less late in the day, others like me are the opposite. I couldn’t find my pattern when my energy levels were swinging wildly from day to day, but eventually when I got things more leveled off I figured it out. If this is the case for you, planning hard stuff for your best time of day and light stuff for your worst times is a good idea. For instance, I shower in the evenings rather than the mornings.

Once you’ve gotten your symptoms to more or less level off, if you get to that point, you can try very, very gradually expanding your activity levels. When I say gradually, I mean gradually, and be ready to go back to less activity any time things get worse again.

Thing is: if you don’t use all your energy, it does seem to sort of build up a “reserve” so you can bounce back from expected or unexpected stressors (illness, travel, etc.) But when your reserve runs out, it takes much longer to recover. So, there’s something to be said for not going at 100%.

In particular, don’t try to go back to 100% too quickly after one of those stressors, like a cold or (sigh, speaking from experience) a cross-country move, even if you feel like you can. Where 100% means using all of your spoons/energy envelope, not functioning at 100% of what a healthy person can do.

Plan ahead of time how you’re going to handle special occasions like holidays, a visiting friend or relative, or travel. “If the movie theater is too loud I will have to leave” etc. When I got married, I planned when and where I was going to take rests, and planned absolutely nothing for the days after. (Interestingly: I did better afterwards than I thought I would, even though I got major brain fog during the reception. Apparently the stress before the wedding was messing me up more than all the activity and socializing at the wedding itself.) We went on our honeymoon a full month later — even a relatively restful trip is still more tiring for me than staying home.

Get advice from multiple sources. This list is aimed at, well, basically myself and anyone with similar symptoms. I’m not addressing pain because that’s not one of my symptoms, but if it’s one of yours you should absolutely get advice from people who experience pain. Likewise, I’m not housebound so I’ve got limited advice there. I don’t have kids, so I don’t have much in the way of parenting advice, and I’m not working so I don’t have “how to handle a job when you have CFS” advice. Oh, and I’m in the United States, what you can expect the government, schools, businesses etc to do for you can vary considerably by country.

A lot of this comes from this website and backed up by my own experience. They have lots of easy to read articles and success stories, and email-based “classes” (think structured support group, not like college class) on living with CFS/ME or fibromyalgia. They don’t get money from promoting supplements or whatever, which is a thing I look for as a sign of integrity. (Not that supplements can’t help, but if someone is getting money from saying they do it’s harder to trust if they’re being fully honest.) There’s also groups on FB and I’m sure other places that are well suited for asking questions and getting advice. There’s books, both on the disease itself and possible treatments (mostly highly speculative and/or alternative) like Living Well with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Fibromyalgia, and on the “how do I live like this?” side of things, like How To Be Sick. Point is: you don’t have to go it alone.

Postscript: recovery. The odds that you will get somewhat better are pretty good. The odds that you will make a full recovery, given the current knowledge about CFS/ME, are low. I know that doesn’t feel good if you’re newly diagnosed (side note: you don’t need officiant diagnosis to start assuming that you’ve probably got CFS and looking for resources, I didn’t, official diagnosis can take a while.) I know when you’re new to this, all you want is to return to normal. (And you might; some people do.) Here’s the thing though: even if you don’t get back to normal, it’s not always going to feel this bad. What feels bad isn’t mostly the state you’re in, it’s mostly change: improvement feels good, getting worse feels bad. If you level off or get a bit better (super likely) and start comparing your current state to your low point, rather than when before you got sick, you’ll start to feel better again. It’s the adjustment period that’s rough, more than the illness itself.

It’s grief, it’s loss: grieving the life you had and the future you hoped for, and the way people respond to that is similar in many ways to how people respond to losing a loved one. Therapy might help, religious guidance if applicable to you might help (if not, perhaps consider this a good time for a deep dive into philosophy, or some form of creative self-expression like drawing or writing poetry); whatever you do, be aware that this is a huge thing to have to come face to face with, and it’s normal to struggle with it. (And: it’s not always going to feel this bad.)

It’s possible to have CFS/ME, and have a good life. It’s possible to have CFS/ME and have many sources of joy and delight and excitement and satisfaction and connection. It’s possible to have CFS/ME and have a deep sense of purpose and meaning, even if your old sources of purpose and meaning are no longer available. It’s possible to live well.

[archergwenwrites]

ZM - Feb 19 - Avatara

(A/N: What a rich vein this prompt proved to be!)

@zutaramonth

“Sifu Aang, how did you get so old?”

“Well, little Katara, I listened to my mother.” 

The little girl squealed. “I am never listening to her again!”

“No, wait, wrong lesson! Come back-”

*

“Sifu Aang, how did you get so old?” 

 The old man sighed and leaned on his staff, tilting his head. His long hair jingled with the Water Tribe charms tied into his braids, the headband he always wore keeping them out of his eyes. He squinted out at the snows that rolled over the horizon as far as they could see. He looked down at the bright seven year old who had come out to walk with him. “They say, Katara, that benders and others close to the spirits, that as they keep up that connection, nurture their chi, they can live centuries. Avatar Kyoshi lived several centuries.”

“So if I get good enough at waterbending, I’ll never going to die?”

He chucked, ruffling her hair. “I never said that, little one.”

*

“Sifu Aang, how- how- how…”

“Hush, dear, hush.” He cradled the breaking eight year old in his arms. “Let us be sad together. Let us grieve together.”

“But how-” she broke off into more sobs.

“Oh child.” He looked up as Hakoda entered the shaman’s tent, new lines of grief etched into his young face. Aang extended a hand, and, when the chief took the bait, he pulled him down into a group hug, making a Katara sandwich.

“One day at a time, and lots of hugs.” He felt the younger man’s shoulders shake. “Just like this.”

*

“Sifu Aang, you’re being stupid.”

The old man just chuckled and leaned on his staff, squinting out into the snows on their walk. “Sokka tells me you almost capsized your boat this morning.”

The teen crossed her arms. “He deserved that tongue-lashing for ignoring that I caught a fish before he did. It’s what Gran-Gran would have said.”

“The difference between you and Kanna is that one of you is actually a tribe elder.”

“I don’t see how some ultimately harmless splashing means I now have to go out on a walk with you. Losing all my time to do housework seems a little harsh.”

“Katara, have you ever felt like something is missing?”

“What?”

“Have you ever felt like there is more you’re meant for?”

She huffed. “Yeah, like I think my destiny is to pull fish hooks out of Sokka’s thumbs and do all the mending he’s too impatient to finish.”

Aang fished inside his coat and withdrew an old wooden box. It was easily held in his hand, worn around the edges where the yellow paint had worn off. There was a funny looking lock on the face of it, symbols she did not recognized carved both into the lock and the box itself, creating crevices for the yellow paint to survive the years.

“One hundred years ago, Fire Lord Sozin made the mistake most evil people do, that to do good one must be righteous. But if the average person can look at evil planned and say ‘no, not this,’ they can do good even if they do not make a grand public gesture.” He offered her the box.

“It’s locked; I can’t open it.”

“It’s an airlock. An airbender can open it.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking so much like her grandmother about to tear into a foolish tribesman. “You know, I liked you better when you were everyone’s crazy adopted uncle who could toss us the highest into the snow banks.”

Aang exhaled, slow and heavy, the stream of his breath clear as it wound straight for the lock and twisted through it, popping the lid. “And that is how I managed to toss you so high.”

“You’re an airbender!”

“Open the box, Katara.”

She did so, and her brow furrowed as she stared at the few trinkets inside. A green top lying on its side, a red cloth doll, and a yellow knotted string with multicolored beads looped along its length sat in the box like a strange memento box. “How did you get my stuff,” she asked softly, confused by her words as much as by the box’s contents as she reached for the beaded string.

“This box has been locked for a hundred years, Katara,” Aang replied as her fingers closed around the first bead.

Light exploded across her vision, and it felt like she was flying through the air. She landed on her back and immediately rolled back to her feet. To her confusion, it looked like she was in what Aang had described swamps as looking like when he told stories. Everything had a faint glow, including the bald kid sitting cross-legged in front of her and smiling up at her.

“Hello Katara!”

“Am I dead?”

“Nope! Just woefully untrained. But that’s okay, because you’ve only just learned you’re the Avatar like I was.”

Katara raised an eyebrow. “You’re just a kid.”

“So are you. Don’t tell Aang though, there’s no question that will answer that he’s ready for.”

“He’s a hundred and twelve. I sure hope he can handle a message from the spirits.”

The boy stood, yellow robes floating around him a nice contrast to his blue arrow tattoos. “Just trust me. Now, you’ll get better at this as you practice, but I’ll help you back to your body this time.”

“I left my body?” “You’re the bridge between the human world and the spirit world, Katara. This is part of the job.” He smiled and tapped her forehead.

She blinked and she was surrounded by snow again, lying on her back. Aang was climbing back to his feet, the box lay open between them. “Well,” he began, extending a hand to help her up. “I did not expect such a light show.”

*

“I saw the lights! Just hand over the Avatar and I will leave! No one has to get hurt.”

Aang met Iroh’s eyes over the head of the blustering teenager. This was the nephew he spoke so highly of? He did not look like much, or like anything but a devoted son of Ozai’s, despite the scar. Ah well. His hand was forced by Sokka’s loud mouth. The next mail ship would undoubtedly carry away with it a report from Ozai’s spy – the identity of whom still escaped his probings, something that would forever prickle at him – given that the boy had tried to get Katara reprimanded for waterbending.

He was pretty sure how the youths would respond to this.

“Alright, alright, enough is enough.” Aang stepped forward, inwardly smiling at the surprise on the Fire Nation Prince’s face. “I am the Avatar. Take me away.”

Gold eyes narrowed. “How do I know you’re not just lying to save your people?”

With a sweep of Aang’s hand, air flung snow into Zuko’s face. “I’ll go with you, if you swear any of my clever attempts to escape will not result in retribution on the tribe.”

As the teen clawed at the snow in his collar, Aang winked at Katara. She nodded, ducking her head to hide a smirk.

“Deal. Bring him aboard.”

*

Zuko took a fortifying breath outside the room his men had stashed the Avarar in. He was about to go face an old man, yes, but one who’d had a hundred years to master all four elements. This was what he’d been training for, what his father expected him to face. He could do this; he was not the failure Court and his sister thought him.

He threw the door open, hoping to intimidate.

It didn’t ruffle the old man at all. He was sitting chin in hand as Uncle Iroh placed a tile on the Pai Sho board between them.

“Uncle!”

“Ah, Prince Zuko. Do come in. I could use your eyes; the Avatar is beating me soundly.”

The Avatar shook a finger in friendly chastisement at Uncle. “Hey now! No cheating. That’s not very honorable.”

“Excuse me! You are a prisoner! Uncle, stop playing with him.”

Uncle placed a tile. A stupid move, actually, unless there was a pattern Zuko wasn’t seeing. Uncle probably had some gambit in play Zuko couldn’t actually help with that would slam shut around the Avatar’s tiles sooner or later. Why lay out the spirit tile to follow the world tile?

The older man chuckled. “She was cute; wasn’t she? The young lady protecting the tribe’s little kids?” He snuck a teasing glance at Zuko as Uncle’s eyebrows raised in consideration. 

He thought of fierce blue eyes glaring out of her well-formed face. “I didn’t notice.”

“Didn’t notice? Iroh, I am beginning to suspect both your Pai Sho skills and your parenting skills. What young man doesn’t notice a pretty girl?”

“I was trying to catch you!”

“Well I am much too old for you. And I’m not sure I’d be interested in someone who’s so focused on his goal he forgets about situational awareness.”

“I am situationally aware!” Zuko yelled, right as the shipped lurched and suddenly stopped.

The Avatar smiled. “Well, that’s my ride.”

*

Zuko breathed heavily with effort, his ship tilting from the ice the waterbender - oh, father was going to have words with their spy - had produced to stop their movement. The Avatar was laughing over head, his walking stick turned into a glider, wheeling in a wide circle to follow after the small boat piloted by the young tribesman who’d challeneged him.

Leaning over the rail, Zuko met the eyes of the waterbender - the one who’d protected the little kids - as he looked back. She was staring back, perhaps to track the Avatar.

Her eyes were fierce, and with the wind blowing her hair he could see what the Avatar-

She flipped him off with both hands, and the boat vanished around an iceburg.

[galactic-melodies]

Hiiii, could you please make a royal tutor Yandere AU, where Bruno goes absolutely nuts from the mere thought that he would have to share his Master with someone else? Kidnapping and all that stuff is just so fun, isn't it?

Spoilers for the end of the anime!

Also, this is my first time writing a Yandere type thing, so hopefully, it’s good!

Bruno can usually be described as passionate about what he chooses to pursue. He did not see himself as incredibly smart or a protege in any way. But he wanted to be respected. More than anything. So he worked for it. While his other brothers pursued their own interests, he studied. He learned arithmetic, chess, science, music, geometry. There was not a subject that Bruno did not know something in, and there was great pride in this fact. The young prince was as self-made as you could get. This is probably why when he met Heine for the first time, it bothered him so badly.

Here was this unqualified, tiny man, who was going to teach him something new? Without even a degree to his name, nor a prestigious letter of recommendation. How outrageous. Bruno von Grannzreich has conversed and shook hands with the best of the best. His father only hired the best of the best. And yet, with everything working against this man, he turned out to be the best one! Heine knew how to dance, how to play instruments. He was well versed in the sciences and mastered the arts. Physically, he could do anything. Logically, he could out-think anyone. This was the moment Bruno was humbled. He was so unworthy to even be in the room with someone as capable as Heine Wittgenstein. Heine never saw Bruno how he deserved to be looked at, Heine saw Bruno for who he was and who he could be. It only fitted for Heine to be his Master. There could possibly be no other.

He had learned so much from Heine through his careful tutoring. Heine could look into the depths of your soul and see what ailed you as well as what you needed. Bruno was fully convinced that Heine was the only one who knew him thoroughly. Not even his brothers could say that about the young prince. He loved them dearly, but Heine had a special place in his heart. Placing exactly where his emotions landed turned out to be a tad more complicated than Bruno expected. Why did Master have so much control over his thoughts? Not a day went by that he was not thinking of his Master in some way. Where did Heine spend his days? How did he get to be to where he is? Bruno wanted to know everything about Heine.

One day, he had an epiphany. It happened shortly after his family almost lost its most valuable member. The day Heine left as his royal tutor. Bruno felt his world crumble to pieces. He had never felt more dejected or miserable in his entire life. Sure, they got Master back. All it took was a heartwarming speech to the royal council from his fellow siblings. That day, Bruno realized two things. One, his brothers need Heine as much as him. Two, he could never rely on always having his Master beside him. The later thought terrorized the young male, the former idea motivated him. Some way or another, Bruno had to do something. Perhaps if someone had seen the dangerous way the young prince's eyes had changed or how he looked at Heine just a little too long...the following could have been prevented.

He planned it well. While Bruno was no genius, he did work hard at his strategies. Bruno used to say that his Master always had the best winning strategy... but then he trained Bruno. It took weeks to plan. If his plan failed, Heine might leave forever. That could not happen. Occasionally, a bit of guilt would pang in his chest. Was he going too far? He shook the idea off as quickly as it came. Heine would understand as soon as he explained everything. He always understands. Bruno knew he was on his own. Kai, as loyal and protective as he was, would never assist with keeping the tutor against his will. Leon would be unable to follow his every direction to the letter. There were too many unknown variables that would appear with Leon's help. Licht would be the most ideal out of the three of his closest siblings. Bruno could not shake the suspicion that Licht would try and take the lead and all the credit for his brilliant idea. He would not have his glory stepped on.

The plan would be simple to execute, difficult to keep going. After mapping Heine's schedule, he knew he had a three-day vacation planned for tomorrow. Heine did not have plans with anyone in particular, he was going to catch up on housework, reading, and sleep. Bruno was suspicious on whether or not Heine had been lying about not having plans with anyone. It was imperative to his idea that no one would be expecting Heine. To determine this, Bruno suggested to his father that Heine might be overworking himself. Viktor then requested Heine to have tea with him, where Bruno overheard the whole conversation. Bruno then bribed a guard to stakeout Heine's home for the week to see if he made any plans or not. The prince made a variety of strategies depending on Heine's arrangments with anyone. Luckily, no one had made any, so Bruno was in the clear for part two of the plan.

After tutoring, Heine always went to Viktor to discuss the day. Bruno had mentioned that for this weekend, he would be away for a conference and was leaving the same day Heine was. As Heine prepared for his home, Bruno would offer him a ride. From there, Bruno had two separate plans that would be executed depending on whether he accepted or not.

"Good evening, your Highness," greeted the tutor.

Bruno's pulse quickened, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck. This was it. "Greetings, Master. Where do you find yourself going this evening?" 

Heine regarded the prince for a moment, his eyes moving around the prince's face before he responded. "I am on my way to have a cup of tea and perhaps grab some supper at a local business."

Bruno nodded thoughtfully, "I see." His breath quickened. "May I offer you a ride to your destination?"

The tutor put a hand up, dismissing the thought. "It is not too far of a walk, and the weather is quite beautiful." He gestured to the outside with the dimming sun and light breeze. "Besides, I believe that you have a lecture to give? You worked hard on preparing for it, being late would not give a well-received reaction, your Highness."

"I was about ready to grab some supper as well." Bruno clenched his fist against the seat, tapping his fingers against the cloth. "Master," he ventured, "may I eat with you?"

Heine starred directly into the young prince's eyes as he mulled it over. His eyes moved around as he assessed the situation.

There was a chance he would reject Bruno, but that resulted in a more... uncomfortable incentive. Bruno did not want to hurt the tutor in any way. He felt it would wound him far more to cause harm to someone he respected the most. At the end of the day, he would do what he must.

After what felt like an eternity to the young prince, he received an answer.  

"As you wish, your Highness."

With that, Heine jumped into the carriage, moving next to Bruno.

Bruno let out a deep breath he had not even known he was holding in. His hands rested against the seat, relaxing. Even with this small victory, the plan was far from over. He knew how capable his Master was. Bruno had seen Heine escape from the hardest places.

The next phase of the plan. Bruno was unaware of how high the tutor's drug tolerance was, nor his senses to detect it. The young prince had spent hours mixing chemicals in his lab to create the perfect elixir. It would keep the tutor unconscious for a few hours, but be undetectable. He had tested minor douses on the royal taste testers. They were unable to tell anything had been added to their drinks. Bruno was convinced it would work. He rested his hand against the vials, running a finger against it slowly. His eyes bore into the curtain ahead of him, running through the plan several more times. A tiny hand waving in front of his face tore him out of his thoughts.

"Prince Bruno," Heine called sternly, concern coloring his gaze. "I asked if you were alright."

Bruno waved a hand dismissingly, smiling. "Yes, yes, I am well." His eyes drifted towards his pocket again. "Just," a finger tracing the vial, "thinking."

Heine leaned back, revealing his tutoring stick. He gave Bruno a light tap on the hand. "Worrying will not calm your nerves. Only practice and confidence." The stick disappeared into his robes as quickly as it was revealed. "Besides," he turned toward Bruno, gracing him with a rare smile. "I tutored you well, you will do wonderful."

A pang of guilt knocked against Bruno's chest. "Yes, thank you, Master." He folded his hands in his lab, twiddling his thumbs.

Soon, they arrived at their destination. A restaurant on the outskirts of town. Well-known for good food, but not popular enough due to the inconvenience of travel. It was the perfect spot to do what needed to be done. They would get a table in the back, purchase some drinks, and then be on their way. By the time the elixir took effect, they would be long gone.

As Bruno sat at the table, drink in hand, he realized Heine would be a lot more perceptive than he gave him credit for. It alarmed him that he would still underestimate his Master- even after everything! Bruno got up after a moment, excusing himself for the restroom. On the way, he passed the waitress, carrying a tray full of refills.

 "Excuse me, miss," Bruno announced, touching her hand to stop her.

The waitress looked at him, giving him an up and down. "Yeah?"

"I need you to put this in a drink and give it to my counterpart," he whispered, passing her one vial. "As a prince of Grannzreich, I can guarantee compensation for your silence."

The women's eyes widened, realizing her position. She had caught the edge to the prince's voice and realized she had no choice... but to bey. "Yes, your highness."

He walked past her, continuing to the restroom. "We were not here tonight."

The waitress took a deep breath, returning to the kitchen. There she prepared refills for the prince and his counterpart. She dumped the vial into the young man's drink and mixed it around. Her hands shook slightly with the weight of what she was asked to do.

 She brought the drinks to the table, setting them down with a slightly clink.

The tutor looked up from his reading to regard the young women. "I did not order another drink."

The young woman gave her best flirtatious smile. "It's on the house." With that, she headed off back to the kitchen. She tried not to think of what would happen to the child. What grievance could the prince possibly have? Shaking her head, she decided to clear her questions. It was none of her business to question the royals. And in doing so would be entirely pointless.

Bruno finally returned from the restroom, sitting down. Heine had finished half of his second beverage. Bruno decided to bring attention to it. "Two drinks? Will you be fine getting home?"

Heine sipped his beverage thoughtfully. "Do not worry, Your Highness," his eyes locked on to Bruno's. "I will have no trouble making my way home."

After a few more drinks and the consumption of their meals, the pair headed outside.

"I will bid you good night now," Heine smiled up at the prince. "Thank you for the meal, although you did not have to pay for my side."

"Nonsense, Master!" Bruno waved his hands fervently. "What kind of disciple would I be to not tend to your goodwill?"

The air was crisp with a slight fog. The moon was hiding between some clouds with not a star in sight. Bruno vaguely wondered if even the sky was hiding its face for the next part.

Heine nodded. Not in agreement, but in acknowledgment. He seemed uncomfortable being called Master but had adjusted to it. "Yes," he huffed, "so it seems I must head off."

"Do let me give you a ride home," the young royal offered. "I would hate to be worried about your safety during my trip."

The tutor rolled his eyes. "I am not some child, your Highness," he stated bitterly. "I am more than capable of walking myself home that you do not need to fret over my safety."

Bruno's heart started to race, and he tensed up. "Forgive me for suggesting you are incapable, but it is easier this way."

Heine regarded his student for a moment. "Bruno," he finally said, dropping the formalities, "what is the matter with you?"

 The young prince's mouth went dry, a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. Master never called him by his name. "What could you possibly mean, Master?"

"I am no fool," he muttered, pulling out his teaching stick again. "There is some type of foolery. You are guilty and yet level headed." He tapped the rod against the carriage. "For whatever reason, you are convinced to spend your evening with me, and I need to know why." His eyes squinted suspiciously.

Bruno sighed. "I cannot tell you here, please get in the carriage, and I will explain the whole thing."

Heine shook his head. "I cannot do that, your Highness."

"It will be so much easier if you do."

"What game are you playing?" Heine huffed.

Bruno narrowed his eyes, slamming his fist against the vehicle. "Get into the damn carriage."

Bruno blinked in shock at himself. He had not expected him to lose any of his disposition. It was no apparent to himself who was more shocked. Heine did not appear to be fazed in the slightest.

"Your Highness, I know more about you and what this is all about than you think," the tutor responded calmly. His head tilted towards the firey prince. After observing for a moment, he conceded. "I already know you drugged me."

Bruno flew backward, his eyes flying open in unveiled confusion. "How could you possibly have known?"

"I am no child, your Highness." Heine made movements towards the carriage. "I suppose we will see where this goes." As he gets into the carriage, he leans against the seat.

Bruno moved to the other side of the carriage, still in bewilderment. "Why are you surrendering?"

Heine laid his head back, sighing. "It's time for a lesson, but I do not believe I can teach you this one directly." He looks out the window, biting his cheek. "Do as you must." With that, Heine succumbed to the drugs and fell asleep.

Bruno exhaled sharply. The deed was finally done. As he ordered the guards to drive to his hideout, he could not help but feel he had been bested again. This was no victory. This an allowance. If Heine had not allowed himself to be captured... The young prince knew Heine could teach him so much. Now that he would have unlimited access to his tutor, he could learn everything from him 24/7. As they slowly drove towards their destination, Heine's words repeated in his head. "Do as you must." It started with a chuckle, but eventually, Bruno blossomed to gut-wrenching laughter. If he had his Master's approval, of course, he was in the right. Bruno would do as he must.

[patandpran]

The Nuisance and the Handsome Prince - A Sarawatine Medieval AU - Chapter 4

Tine is an aspiring Squire who has been training his whole life to work alongside the Kingdom's finest Knights. Sarawat is a Prince who, on the outside, seems fierce and unapproachable. He is disinterested in any of his royal duties, namely his Knight training.

What happens when Tine is assigned to be the fierce and handsome prince's Squire?

Aka The Medieval AU that I can't get out of my head.

Read on Archiveofourown here, Read the prequel by the lovely @sarawatism here

In the days that followed, Tine started to feel like there was somewhat of a routine in place that he could get used to that followed as such:

Breakfast with Fong, morning training with Sarawat showing up late and earning an earful of threats from Head Trainer Dim, lunch with Ohm where the two friends would try to decipher the inner workings of the complicated relationships between members of the court, attending some sort of social engagement with the Prince that Tine always used as time to take stock of what they had learned that day, an evening meal with Fong where they recapped the day and Fong filled Tine in on the days gossip and each evening closed with a private training session with Sarawat where Tine was slowly starting to see subtle improvements in the Prince’s technique...

Tonight was no different with the arrival of a silver tray heaped with food and a folded piece of parchment containing the meeting place of tonight’s training session enclosed with the Wolf wax Insignia. Tine found himself looking forward to his time alone with the Prince, if only to know that it seemed to be the only time that Sarawat seemed to let his guard down and actually take his training somewhat seriously.

“Where are you slinking off to tonight?” Fong asked with an amused curve to his lips.

“Looks like we’re meeting at the stables.” Tine responded.

He had filled Fong in on his extra training sessions with the Prince. Tine knew it was a bit of a risk to trust someone he had known for such a short time but he just had a good instinct about Fong.

“Maybe you’re going for an evening ride.” Fong waggled his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

Tine felt his cheeks flush involuntarily at Fong’s teasing but covered it by giving Fong a playful punch in the arm. “I should go. Do you mind cleaning this up?”

“It is my duty whether I want to or not.” Fong remarked dryly and Tine gave him an appreciative nod before running off to the stables.

The need for discretion about their after hours meetings had been Sarawat’s request which is why the location changed every day. He did not want the news of him doing extra practice to be shared with anyone in the court as he wanted to keep up his aloof appearance. This confounded Tine to no end but he respected the Prince’s wishes.

When he arrived at the stables, it seemed like Sarawat had yet to arrive so Tine made himself busy with grooming the Princes horse. He almost leapt out of his skin when he heard a ruckus coming from a few stalls down. Without a second thought, Tine pulled out his sword and advanced upon the stall to investigate.

“Who’s there?” Tine called out as he neared the source of the sound.

A silence loomed before two sets of giggles erupted from the empty stall. Tine relaxed as he saw Sir Boss and Sir Man’s heads pop into view. From Fong’s gossip sessions, Tine had quickly learned that The Princes closest confidants were less members of the court and regarded more as court jesters with the type of ridiculous antics that they got up to.

They were surprisingly quite talented in their training but took little else in their lives seriously. Tine envied how carefree their lifestyles were due to the security of their families being members of the court. They had time to enjoy themselves because they did not need to busy themselves with chores and other housework like Tine had when he was growing up.

“Sir Man, Sir Boss.” Tine sheathed his sword and nodded at the two men in front of him. “What can we attribute your presence this evening to?”

“We’ve seen Wat sneaking away from his quarters every night and we knew we had to launch an investigation into his shifty behaviour.” Man explained plainly before Boss chimed in, “We thought he was trying to woo a maiden in secret but, as it turns out, maybe he’s trying to woo his Squire instead.”

Tine thanked the Gods that it was such a late hour and there were not many candles lit in the stables as his cheeks were quite flushed due to Boss’s suggestive comment. He was sure that Boss meant nothing by it other than to get a rise out of Tine.

“Sorry to disappoint but we are just meeting up for a training session.” Tine answered cooly and made his way back to Sarawat’s horse to finish the brushing regiment. “How did you find out about this anyway?”

“We overheard a rather loudmouthed caste servant talking about it on his way to the kitchen.” Boss answered and both he and Man made their closer to the stall that Tine was working in.

Tine silently cursed Fong’s loud mouth but continued to give all of his focus to Sarawat’s steed. In some ways, Tine hoped that Sarawat did not bother to show up because the situation was already humiliating enough.

“What are you two blockheads doing here?”

The three young men looked up to see the Prince walk into the table after he asked his question. He was leading a horse that Tine was not familiar with into the stable and Tine wondered what the intention behind it was. Sarawat’s question inspired both Man and Boss to fall into a fit of laugher so intense that Tine worried for their health.

Sarawat shook his head at his idiotic friends and continued toward Tine, “Sorry to keep you waiting but I had to collect my brother’s horse so that we could ride together.”

“Oh.” That was all that Tine could put into the words as the situation was just too bizarre for him to navigate.

“Don’t worry, Tine.” Sarawat faced out toward his friends and passed the lead for the horse to Tine. “Sir Man and Sir Boss will not be joining on us this evening. In fact, I don’t remember inviting them along in the first place.”

Man and Boss shared a look of mischievousness between them before Man blurted out, “We chose to invite ourselves. I am not about to apologize for being worried about a friend’s wellbeing considering his rather out of character behavior.”

Sarawat shot a glare toward Man and Boss before mounting his horse. He nodded for Tine to do the same so Tine followed the silent order of the Prince. “You two will not follow us or I will have your heads.”

This inspired Man and Boss to fall into another fit of laughter which distracted them for long enough for Tine and Sarawat to take off into the night on their horses. Tine could heard the echo of the Prince’s closest friend’s laughter from over a mile away as he followed Sarawat into the chill of the evening.

Sarawat had his horse at a quick clip and Tine’s own horse seemed to be struggling to keep up. Tine wondered if this was due to the fact the the Prince had such a strong connection with his steed while Tine had only met the horse he was riding mere moments before. Tine called into the wind, “Wat, where are we going? What skills are we working on tonight?”

���We’re not training tonight.” Sarawat yelled in response, his hair whipping in the current of their gallop. “We’re doing something that is entirely foreign to you, Tine, we’re going to have fun.”

Tine tried not to be deeply offended by the accusation but he understood where the Prince was coming from. He was all business and while he had sometimes let his seriousness slip slightly, Sarawat had really only seen the determined and focused Squire side of Tine and nothing else. He understood why Sarawat might have the impression that Tine had an ‘all work and no play’ approach to life but Tine was going to show Sarawat that he was wrong.

Tine leaned forward and gently clicked his heels to the horses’s side to encourage his horse to catch up with Sarawat’s. He quickly passed by Sarawat and began to increase his speed incrementally.

“Are you trying go race with me, Tine?” Sarawat questioned, a twinkle of amusement in his tone.

“Wat, don’t you know if it is not considered a race when you know who is going to win?” Tine called back to the Prince and encouraged his horse to go even faster.

“Good thing I am a born winner!” Sarawat cried out and seemed to accept the challenge without a second thought.

Tine heard the hooves of Sarawat’s horse getting closer and tried desperately to get his own horse to keep up the speed they had set but the steed seemed to be slowly losing momentum. It did not take long for Sarawat to gain on Tine and Tine chanced a look over at the Prince and his breath was stolen away.

Sarawat was completely in his element. The Wolf Prince was riding under the full moon in all his lupine glory.

Tine couldn’t look away as the image was so entirely captivating. It made Tine even more aware of what a waste it was for Sarawat to be so disinterested in his royal duties and yet, the contradiction was exactly what made Tine so drawn to the Prince. He wondered how different the world would be when Sarawat took the throne and hoped that his predictions were right about the future king. It made Tine momentarily question his mission of vengeance but Tine’s commitment to his cause would always overpower a fleeting sense of contradiction.

The kingdom was corrupted. The attack on Tine’s father had proven what he had always instilled in Tine. Question power - challenge authority. Just because Tine was so immersed in the world of thrones and crowns did not mean that he would change his plan to burn it all down to ashes to make up for what the royal family had done to his.

The realization made Tine bring his horse to an abrupt halt. Sarawat surged on and as much as Tine had enjoyed the moment with the Prince, he could no longer engage in this kind of exchange with him. It had to be business from now if Tine was going to turn the Prince into a strong enough fighter to become a true Knight. Tine needed the promotion so that to could also rise to the station where he could challenge the Head Knight. Without a shift in class, the proposition of a match would never be taken seriously and, without that, Tine could never avenge his fathers attack.

It took a moment for Sarawat to realize that Tine was no longer beside him and when he did, Tine took off back toward the stables to put distance between the two of them. He could not explain to the Prince what was going on without revealing his secret.

Tine heard Sarawat calling after him in confusion but he had to ignore the pull that he felt toward the Prince. Tine was shocked to find his eyes filling with frustrated tears but he attributed their presence to the wind whipping in his face. Tine left Sarawat yelling after him, his only goal to keep moving away from the Prince and the power he held over Tine.

The Prince was left alone in the night, wondering why his Squire had seemingly begun to let down his walls before quickly throwing them back up. He was left behind.

…A wolf howling in the wind.

*********

Sarawat was colder than usual over the next few days during their scheduled training sessions and Tine had yet to receive another message from him at dinner. Fong regarded Tine sympathetically every evening that passed without a letter but Tine played it off as if it meant nothing to him. It was better this way anyway. Tine overheard Sir Man and Sir Boss giving the Prince a hard time about the encounter in the stables but with one sharp look, the teasing came to an end and was never brought up again. Sarawat and Tine’s interactions were brief and not many words were shared between them. Tine tried not to take it personally considering he was the one that had caused the wall between them to be erected in the first place.

One morning, before training, Tine was tending to the Prince’s horse when he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder. He turned, expecting to see Ohm or even Man or Boss to give him a hard time about one thing or another. Instead, Tine was faced with Lord Mil shining a broad grin at him.

“Squire Tine.” Mil addressed Tine and Tine had to fight to keep his composure. The Lord continued, “I just wanted to check in with you. It seems like the Prince has been treating you a bit coldly lately. Did something happen between the two of you?”

Tine was at a complete loss of words but Mil was patient enough to wait for him to find his thoughts. The Lord seemed genuinely interested in Tine’s response and despite his instincts to punch Mil in the nose, Tine got himself together and answered, “Lord Mil, I appreciate your concern but the Prince and I are just fine, despite whatever rumours seem to be circulating…”

“I know the Prince well. He is probably just being stubborn because he is not getting what he wants. I think that it is good of you to be pushing him the way you are. He needs someone that doesn’t just tolerate his behaviour.” Mil remarked, taking out his hard and practicing some sword handling skills. “I know that we are not as familiar with one another but I have heard quite a bit about you from my own Squire and I saw your skills during the Squire Trials. You are quite talented in your own right.”

Tine didn’t know how to process a compliment coming from the person who was supposed to be his enemy. He so wished that Ohm was present to interrupt the interaction but his friend was nowhere to be seen, probably sent away by Mil to collect materials for that very reason.

“T-thank you.” Tine managed to choke out despite his better judgment.

Lord Mil seemed satisfied with this response and held out his sword in a manner that suggested that he wanted Tine to take it. The last thing that Tine wanted to do was hold the very weapon that his father had forged that inspired the attack in the first place. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach and started to back away slowly from Mil, earning himself a concerned look from the Lord.

“Tine, are you feeling all right?” Mil asked as Tine clamoured backward, dust kicking up in his wake. “Are you dehydrated? Do you need water or something else? I can call a servant to fetch some…”

This was too much to handle. He had been able to tolerate Mil’s presence when he was at a distance but without someone or something to serve as an excuse for his escape, Tine felt like he was utterly drowning. The worst part of it all was that Mil seemed to actually being quite a decent person despite his relation to his evil father.

“Why don’t you just give him some space, Mil?”

The Prince’s voice cut into Tine’s awareness and even though his vision was blurring slightly due to how overwhelmed he felt, he was incredibly thankful for Sarawat’s presence, even though the tension between them was still so high.

Sarawat had inserted himself between the Lord and Tine in an effort that was perplexingly protective. Tine had never anticipated that Sarawat would act in such a manner, especially considering the unresolved conflict between them. Tine found himself at a crossroads about how he should feel but was innately comforted by the Prince’s intervention into the matter.

“I didn’t mean any offence.” Mil expressed in a seemingly innocent tone and quickly put his sword away. “I’ve never known a Squire to be afraid of Knight’s sword.”

Tine shivered at Mil’s response. He so wished that he had the courage to stand up for himself but because of the complexities of the situation, his head was reeling too much for him to properly form a response.

Sarawat studied the expression on Tine’s face momentarily before turning back toward Mil and spitting out, “Maybe it is the Knight and not the sword that he is afraid of.”

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Heeeeeyyyyy Lia how about some parental boyos with kid Virgil and "learning how to do make up"?

Ooooooh yes I do like this one.Warnings: Some light angst/worry in the beginning, food mention, fire mention, eye-poking, a lot of stupid mushiness from the gay dads 

“Virgil?” Remy knocked on the bathroom door again. “Virgil, honey, I know you teenagers love to take forever with your morning routines and complicated skin care creams but we’re going to be late if you don’t come out soon.”

Emile fondly scoffed from the end of the hall. “Teenagers? Rem, you take an hour just to do your hair.”

“Yes, but I have the time to do that.” Remy turned back towards the bathroom door. “Virge, on the other hand...”

“I don’t want to go to school.” Virgil finally spoke up, voice sounding strained.

Remy shot Emile a concerned look before responding, “When does anybody?”

“This is... different.” Virgil responded. “I-I wanna use a mental health day.”

Remy frowned as Emile actually came over to the door and said softly, “Alright, Virgil. I’ll call the school and tell them you’re sick. Do you need me or Dad to pick anything up?”

“No.”

Emile nodded. “Okay. Just let us now if you need anything.” He said before taking Remy’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he pulled him away from the bathroom and into the kitchen.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Remy asked the minute they were far enough away that Virgil wouldn’t hear. He glanced back in the direction of the hall. “The last time he used a mental health day he had a panic attack, Em, and now he’s hiding in the bathroom-”

“I’m sure he’s okay.” Emile cut off Remy, squeezing his hand again. “He knows to ask for help.”

Remy nodded. “I know. I just... I’m just worried.”

“Me too.” Emile agreed, glancing at his Mickey Mouse watch. “But I have to go. Call me if anything happens?”

“Of course.” Remy kissed Emile. “Have a good day.”

“You too.” Emile returned before heading for the door, stopping to glance down the hall before he left. Remy sighed as he heard the front door lock, the only sounds left in the house coming in the form of quiet shuffling in the bathroom.

He spent most of the morning listlessly roaming the house, unable to focus on housework or anything else. Virgil remained in the bathroom.

Remy gave up on the passive ‘let him come to you’ approach around one, when Virgil still hadn’t left the bathroom, even after Remy reminded him at noon that it was lunchtime.

“Virgillllllllllllllll.”

Remy heard a sigh. “What do you want, Dad?”

“For you to eat my mac and cheese. I made too much of it under the apparently false pretense you’re mortal and require food.”

Virgil didn’t reply, but the door opened by a crack a moment later. When Virgil didn’t look out the gap, Remy tutted. “I’m not going to slide the mac and cheese into you.”

“Why not?”

“The bathroom is a no-food zone.” Remy responded. “Also I miss my child’s beautiful, sunshiny face.”

“Dadddddddd.” Virgil grumbled. Remy smiled. Cheesy dad compliments never failed.

“I think you’re required to glare at me now.”

For a moment, nothing happened, and Remy feared he would actually have to push food into the bathroom like Virgil was some sort of prisoner. The crack widened, however, and a sulking, glaring, perfectly normal Virgil appeared. The only difference between this Virgil and any other day’s Virgil was the artificial, darkened bags under his eyes. Seeing the confusion in his Dad’s eyes, Virgil shifted his glare to the floor.

“I wanted to put on some eyeshadow... but I think I messed it up, and I didn’t want to stain a towel to clean it up, and I didn’t want you and Papa to see how stupid it looked.” Virgil mumbled, shuffling his feet. “All of which are stupid reasons to wimp out of school but I felt stupid so...”

“You were stupid.”

Virgil’s head jerked up to looked bewilderedly at Remy. “Dad?!”

“For not telling me you wanted to wear make-up!!” Remy said excitedly. “That’s, like, a crime against common sense!”

“I thought you’d just think it was weird or something...”

Remy gasped in mock offense. “Have you met me?! I am the walking definition of weird! Oh this is to perfect- wait I have to call your Papa before we do anything he’d kill me if we did make-up lessons without him-”

“You sound like you’ve been preparing for this for a while.”

“If you didn’t have a make-up stage I was going to disown you.” Remy said, hurrying off towards his and Emile’s bedroom. “Go eat some mac and cheese! If Papa gets here and learns you’ve just been sulking in the bathroom all day he’ll get stressed and probably hug you.”

“Oh no a hug my biggest fear.” Virgil deadpanned as he headed off towards the kitchen. Remy ignored him, taking his phone off the charger as he barreled into the bedroom’s bathroom, pulling open his make-up drawer and sorting through all the colours and tools while the ring-tone played.

“This is Emile Picani, how may I he-”

“Em! Virgil came out of the bathroom with make-up bags under his eyes and it turns out he just wanted to try on eyeshadow but when he messed up he felt bad which is why he wouldn’t come out but I used my magical annoying powers to get him to and I need you to come home right now so we can teach him how to put on make-up properly and I’m so proud of him-”

“Woah!” Emile stopped Remy. “Slow down, Rem. What’s going on with Virgil?”

“He’s finally entering his make-up phase!!!”

“So he’s alright?”

“Aside from the fact he briefly turned off his brain when he forgot to ask me for help considering I am the make-up queen, yes.”

“Then you’re frantically calling me because...?”

“You can pretend to be above this all but I know you want to help me teach him how to actually put on make-up.” Remy answered, pulling out his brightest eyeshadow palette. “That or you may leave his education up to me and we’ll see how many shades of purple I can fit onto his eyelid.”

Emile sighed, though Remy doubted he was actually annoyed. “You’re lucky I just finished my last appointment of the day.”

“I’m lucky to have married you.”

“You’re shameless.”

“It’s my entire personality, babes.” Remy replied. “So you comin’ home early?”

“Yes. But only because I don’t trust you to teach our son actual make-up basics if I don’t.”

“Come now, Em, you know I give only the best advice in everything!”

“Love, we both know you’ve only ever given good advice one day in your life.”

“Oh, yeah? When’s that?”

Remy didn’t have to be in the same room with him to know Emile smirked before he responded, “The day you said I should marry you.”

He hung up before Remy had a chance to respond. Remy glared at the phone. Damnit, he was supposed to have the last word in these sorts of things. Now he’d have to hide in the bathroom until Emile got home- otherwise his much too nosy son would call him out on being, in fact, able to be flustered.

No child of his could know of such weakness.

“Papa said something cute and gross didn’t he.” Virgil commented the moment Remy stepped into the kitchen twenty minutes later, not even looking up from where he was eating mac and cheese on the counter. “You’ve been hiding for like half an hour and you only do that when you’re pretending you’re not blushing.”

Every child of his knew of his weakness.

Remy was saved from having to reply by the front door opening, Emile appearing next to him a moment later. He smiled when he saw Virgil. “Nice to see you out of the bathroom, Eeyore.”

“Dad bribed me with mac and cheese.”

“And then didn’t get you any make-up wipes?”

Virgil wiped lazily at his eyes, looking at the residue dust on his fingers. “It appears he did not.”

Emile chuckled. “I’m going to do a burn check, and then we can responsibly paint with all the colours of your Dad’s many, many make-up palettes.”

“Y’know, just because me and Virgil have set things on fire five times we’ve been left alone doesn’t mean you have to search the entire house for trace evidence of those fires.”

“I wouldn’t if you two didn’t think you could hide them from me.” Emile replied before he headed off to preform his burn check.

Virgil ate another forkful of mac. “Did you burn anything?”

“For once, no.” Remy answered. “But he may find the gummy bear army. They were in the middle of losing the battle of Chess Board to the assorted cheese and nut squad.”

“Why does anyone trust you alone ever?”

“They normally don’t have a choice.”

Fifteen minutes later and one rather passionate debate between Remy and Emile as to whether or not gummy bears stood a chance against the assorted cheese and nut squad, the three of them were sitting in the house’s biggest bathroom. Virgil’s face was cleaned up, and an assortment of make-up supplies were scattered on the counter.

“So, uh... what do we start with?” Virgil asked, looking slightly overwhelmed. “More importantly, how many of these can be legally classified as torture tools? I have a teacher who gives extra credit for those.”

“Which teacher is that?”

“Surprisingly enough, my geometry teacher.”

“Has she read her own textbook?” Remy laughed when Emile lightly swatted the back of his head. “Just try and tell me I’m wrong.”

“This is not the point of make-up lessons.” Emile said, avoiding the question.

“You do agree.”

“Shhh.” Emile turned to Virgil. “We can start with whatever you want.”

Virgil shrugged. “I don’t know, eyeshadow, I guess? Just so I don’t screw up with it again?”

Remy rearranged the make-up so that the brushes and eyeshadow palettes were at the center of it all.

“Do we start with boring shades, or exciting, fiery, eye-catching, wonderful shades?” Remy asked, already picking up one of the glitter palettes. Virgil frowned.

“Boring shades.” Virgil said. “Glitter will just mess with my aesthetic.”

“Change your aesthetic.”

“Never.”

Emile shook his head while he picked out a simpler palette, this one composed of beiges and browns, and a rounded, stubby brush. He put them on the counter nearest to him. “Starting simple is better anyways.” He said, taking Remy’s glitter eyeshadow away from him. “First, we start with primer.”

“What’s primer?”

“It helps the eyeshadow stay on.” Emile answered, grabbing a small squeeze bottle and a Q-tip. He turned to face Remy while he dabbed a bit of the primer onto the tip. “We’re using Dad as our model because he likes make-up and it gives me an excuse to stare at his face.”

“It’s worth it to be worked on by an angel.”

“You guys are gross.”

“Just wait until you’ve got your own disgusting partner.” Emile replied before saying to Remy, “Now close your eyes.”

“But then I won’t be able to see your perfect face, sweetie.”

Virgil leaned over and pulled on Remy’s eyelids, forcing them shut. “I refuse to sit through this.”

“You’re an ungrateful child.” Remy replied, but he kept his eyes shut while Emile started to apply the primer.

“Next, we apply a neutral colour. That is, if you’re smart.” Emile grabbed his chosen brush and looked at the colours in his chosen palette. “A friendly reminder that, for all his many, many gifts, your Dad is not known for being incredibly wise.”

“My method of layering every colour in the palette in a random order is ingenious.”

“There’s a reason I’m giving this tutorial and not you.”

“Hmph.” Remy crossed his arms. “You better be using glitter eyeshadow.”

“I am.” Emile easily lied.

“I find that doubtful.”

“Too bad your eyes are closed and you can’t prove anything.”

“But what if they were OPEN.” Remy opened his eyes on the last word, an action he immediately regretted when Emile, mid-brush with the neutral shade, poked his now open eye.

“I’ve been blinded!”

“It’s a little poke.”

“Forever blind in the name of beauty!”

“You just need to blink a few times.”

“And to have been hurt by the love of my life!”

“I swear you’re as dramatic as your brother.”

Remy, one hand still gripping his ‘grievously injured’ eye, smirked. “Bold of you to assume I wasn’t the one who taught Roman everything he knows.”

Emile shook his head. “At least you admit you’re just being overly dramatic. Can you also admit your eye is fine?”

“Nope.” Remy replied petulantly. “I’m forever blind.”

“That’s a shame.”

“There is one cure to forever blindness, though it’s incredibly rare.”

“I don’t think I like where this is going.” Virgil spoke up. Virgil was ignored.

“It’s the kiss of the most pure angel in the world.” Remy answered his own question.

Emile smiled and poked Remy’s nose with the make-up brush. “Too bad you can’t kiss your own eye.”

“Says the literal walking ray of sunshine.”

Virgil, recognizing that the situation was getting mushy, grabbed a make-up palette consisting mostly of shades of black and the closest brush before slinking away to his room. Considering it seemed the make-up session was quickly turning into a make-out one, he doubted he was going to learn anything else.

Besides, thinking about it, he rather liked the smudged, baggy eyes look.

[alphacrone]

for it’s better to burn out than to fade out of sight (7/?)

rating: T pairings: Yuki & Tohru (platonic), Tohru/Kyo, Yuki/Machi, other canon pairings & friendships summary: In the end, it wasn’t sadness Yuki felt, when Tohru Honda had her memories erased. No, it was anger. And anger he could work with.

<< read previous chapter

vi. silently reaching for a hand to hold to warm the cold

***

“Rat? Rat! Ohmygosh- ” 

If Tohru thought she’d lost her mind before, it was nothing compared to now, as she pulled back the folds of Sohma’s discarded uniform to find a small, gray rat where a boy once stood. Was this some sort of magic trick? Would Sohma appear behind her and pull a rabbit out of a hat? 

Pain pulsed behind Tohru’s eyes and a chill seeped through her veins to the tips of her fingers. In her mind’s eye she saw plumes of smoke, splintered wood, a hissing, orange cat..

“Well,” a voice said, small and soft. “That isn’t how I intended this to happen.” 

The rat was speaking with Yuki’s voice. 

The rat was speaking . 

 “ Sohma ?” Tohru breathed, leaning down close to look the rat in the eyes. It stood unnaturally on its hind legs, tiny paws clasped together in a patient posture. There was no way this was just a simple magic trick.

“Yes, it’s me,” Sohma said. “And now you know my family secret. Again.” 

“You- rat- how-?” Tohru grasped at her head, trying to make heads or tails of what Yuki was telling her. It was impossible, a thing of magic and fairy tales, and yet...it made sense. She couldn’t say why, but knowing that Yuki Sohma could transform into a rat just seemed right. 

“It’s complicated,” Yuki said simply. “I can explain better once I turn ba-”

He was interrupted by a loud bang , and a plume of smoke filled the empty hallway. Tohru turned away to cough, choking on the thick scent of incense, and when she turned back, Yuki was upright and human again...and completely naked. 

“ Ah !” Tohru slapped both hands over her eyes before she could catch sight of anything inappropriate. “I’m sorry! I didn’t look!” 

Yuki chuckled softly, and Tohru heard the rustle of him slipping on his uniform. “It’s fine,” he said. “This isn’t the first time, after all.” 

Tohru’s cheeks grew hot. “I’m sorry about the other time, too!” 

“Honda,” he said. “You’ve apologized enough for a lifetime.  It’s really okay.” 

She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself as Yuki finished getting dressed. “So...your secret...is that you’re...a rat?” 

Yuki chuckled. “You can turn around now. And yes, sort of. It’s a...family curse. There are others specifically affected. You met a few others, when you found out the first time.” He paused, and looked down at his crooked tie. “Ah, it’s hard without a mirror.” 

“Here, let me,” Tohru said, but she paused before touching the tie. “Will that...what causes it ?” 

“A hug,” Yuki said solemnly. “So, you’re safe.” 

“A hug,” Tohru repeated, hands working mechanically as she straightened out the tie. “How odd.” 

“Isn’t it?” Yuki said wryly. “I can tell you about it more later, about the curse and everything that happened to you. I wasn’t sure if you should know, since you’ve paid the price once already.” 

“My memories?” 

“Yes,” Yuki murmured. “But it could be worse. The head of the family...he’s…” 

“We’ll keep it a secret, then,” Tohru said hurriedly. “No one needs to know that I know, right?” 

Relief washed over Yuki’s face. “Right.” 

“But maybe...maybe we could tell Hana and Uo,” Tohru continued nervously. “And Megumi. He knows so much about curses, and if this- if this is a curse you don’t want, maybe we could find a way to help!” 

“I’d like that, but....can we...can we not tell Hanajima and Uotani yet?” Yuki asked, playing with the hem of his shirt. “It’s...it’s something I think we should talk about more before trying to explain to them.”

“Of course,” Tohru said quickly, nodding her head so aggressively it began to hurt. “Don’t push yourself to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“Thank you,” Yuki said, and he reached out to squeeze her hand. “Can I walk you home after school today?” 

“S-Sure!” Tohru replied. A warning bell rang, and she gestured down the hall. “We better get back to class.” 

They quickly returned to the classroom, much to the ire of some of the fan club girls. Hana and Uo waved at them, and Uo smiled mischievously. 

“Hey, you guys kiss and make up?” She teased as they entered the classroom together. Tohru squeaked in surprise, but Yuki nodded. 

“We’ve cleared things up,” he said, and Tohru realized just how much everyone had been worried about her. Class started before she could say anything, but Tohru felt so grateful to have these friends in her life. 

***

They walked home in silence. The weight of the truth hung heavy between them, but neither knew how to bring it up. It was an inconceivable idea, this Sohma curse, and to explain it to an outsider without Shigure or even Kyo was a daunting task. 

Though the walk was a little awkward, it was over quickly, and they now found themselves standing outside the Honda household. 

“Would you like to come inside for some tea?” Tohru asked, smiling up at Yuki. 

“I would love to,” he said after a pause, and Tohru felt her grin widened. She pulled him by the sleeve up the steps and through the front door. 

They paused in the genkan to slip off their shoes, and Tohru called a soft, “I’m home!” There was no response, so she just shrugged. “Aunt Mie is at work and my cousins must be out, but I’m not sure where Grandpa is…” 

“The house is very nice,” Yuki said, sounding a bit awkward. Tohru could understand, when there was such a gargantuan elephant in the room. 

“Grandpa had it all remodeled before Aunt Mie’s family moved in,” Tohru said, drifting into the kitchen to start the water for tea. “Hana brought over some odango from her grandmother—would you like some?” 

“Just tea is fine,” Yuki said, settling at the table. “ Oh .” 

Tohru poked her head back into the room at Yuki’s small gasp. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized he had caught sight of the altar. It housed several photos, for Grandma and her great great uncle and Mama and-

“Is this your father?” Yuki asked, eyes focused on the portrait of Katsuya Honda. He seemed so young in the photograph, barely older than Tohru herself. “You had a photo of your mother with you, when you lived with us, but I never saw your father. You have his smile.” 

Tohru started. She’d been compared to her mother her whole life; father was nothing more than an afterthought, a stranger, even in his family’s home. “R-really?” 

“Yeah,” Yuki breathed, and he bowed his head in prayer before the altar. Tohru left him there to prepare the tea, her mind still whirling with too many thoughts. She took a deep breath and poured water into the teapot, letting it steep as she collected cups and the dango, before carrying it all out to the table. 

“You said...before,” Yuki said, accepting the proffered cup. “You said your father died of pneumonia .” 

“Did I?” Tohru was surprised she’d told anyone about her father, especially a boy she’d only known a few months. 

“Yes,” Yuki said. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, really,” Tohru said, pouring the tea for both of them. “I was so little, I don’t really remember it.” 

“That’s still…” Yuki trailed off. “What was he like?” 

Tohru frowned. “Mom said he was really kind and serious, but a little spacey. He spoke formally, like I do, which I think is really the only thing I got from him. I’m pretty much the spitting image of my mom.” 

Yuki quirked an eyebrow. “Kind and spacey? Sounds like you inherited more than you think.” 

Tohru’s cheeks grew warm and she laughed. “I don’t really remember him, but I know he loved me and Mom.” 

“That’s important,” Yuki said softly. “Not all parents do.” 

Tohru’s heart clenched, but before she could respond the front door opened and Aunt Mie’s voice carried down the hall, “I’m home!” 

“Welcome home!” Tohru called back. Mie walked into the room, still dressed in her work clothes, and froze, eyes trained solely on Yuki. 

“This is the boy, from the photos,” she said, shoulders tensing as she caught sight of Yuki. “The one you lived with.” 

Tohru sputtered, but Yuki did not miss a beat. He stood swiftly and crossed the room to bow to Aunt Mie. “My name is Yuki Sohma, I’m a friend of Tohru’s from school. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Aunt Mie opened and closed her mouth several times, but no sound came out. “Y-You- You’re her friend?” Was all that she could manage. 

Yuki’s pleasant expression did not change, but Tohru felt a chill fall over the room. “I am,” he said. “I am incredibly lucky to know Honda, and for her to deign to be my friend. As I’m sure you know, she’s a good, kind, hard-working person. You must feel so blessed to have her in your family.” 

Tohru had never seen Aunt Mie’s face grow so red, but she could not tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. She knew her face must be brighter than a strawberry at Yuki’s kind words. “May I offer you some tea, Aunt Mie?” She asked, hopping up to grab a new cup. Mie waved her away, not taking her eyes off Yuki. 

“That won’t be necessary, Tohru,” she said stiffly. “But have you made preparations for dinner?” 

“Yes!” Tohru clapped her hands together; she’d gotten a cookbook from the library and very excited to try out some new recipes. “I did the grocery shopping yesterday.” 

Mie nodded curtly. “And the laundry I asked you to do?” 

“I took it off the line last night, before bed,” Tohru answered, sitting back down at the table. “And put it away in the linens drawer.”

“And the dusting-?” 

“Is Tohru the only person here who does housework?” 

Yuki’s tone had gone decidedly icy, though he still maintained an expression of polite neutrality. Tohru shivered, despite feeling warm from the tea. 

“Excuse me?” Aunt Mie asked, eyes going wide. 

“I was just wondering if Tohru is the only person in this entire household who’s assigned housework,” Yuki elaborated, stepping closer to Mie. 

“W-well, I’m at work all day,” Mie snapped. “And Dad is too frail. So, of course it falls to Tohru.” 

“And your children?” Yuki tilted his head to the side. 

“They’re students! It’s important for them to focus on schoolwork, plus Kaoru has her part time job-”

“So does Honda,” Yuki said, expression darkening. “Is her schoolwork unimportant?” 

Mie blanched. “She’s not going to college, does it really matter?” 

“Graduating high school is very important to Honda,” Yuki growled. “So is doing well at her job. I guess I’m just a bit concerned you’re overworking her. We wouldn’t want her to fall ill, would we? Health is so important.” 

Tohru gasped quietly as she saw Yuki’s eyes flicker to the altar, then back to Aunt Mie. Mie glared at Yuki, but said nothing as she left the room. As soon as they heard her bedroom door slam, Yuki let out a long sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I went over the line there, I shouldn’t have said those things. Will this get you in trouble?”

Tohru’s heart warmed. He’d just stood up for her, and now he was worried she’d be in trouble for it. Yuki Sohma was a sweet boy, deep down. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Aunt Mie doesn’t yell at me. I don’t think she likes me very much, so we don’t...interact a lot.” 

Yuki nodded. “If she tries anything, just call me, okay? You don’t have to stay here, you can always come with me or stay with Hanajima or Uotani.” 

Tohru smiled, and grabbed a stick of dango for herself. “I’ll be fine, Sohma,” she said, taking a bite. “But...thank you.” 

Yuki smiled—a real, genuine smile—and Tohru’s heart melted completely. He was so serious at school, so composed and quiet. But with her and her friends, he laughed and scowled and smiled . 

They were friends. They’d been friends before, and Tohru’s memories had been taken, and they were friends again now. And for the first time since meeting Uo and Hana, Tohru knew this was the sort of friendship that wouldn’t disappear so easily. She and Yuki were connected, no matter what that meant for his curse or her family, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.