#if my brain were normal i honestly think i would have passed our from exhaustion sometime in the past week

[transexualpirate]

i think socialization varies too much to be determined between male/female only. i think "male socialization" and "female socialization" are reductive terms that btw don't come anywhere near explaining how the human psyche works. different times raise girls differently. different places raise boys differently. within the same region different cultures raise girls differently. within the same culture different families raise boys differently. like it varies so much that it's a meaningless term at this point. it's the afab/amab thing all over again

[chairteeth]

“Nemu Hiiragi: The Shadow”

The promised Magius Nemu essay arrives. I have given up on proper essay formatting and will simply leave my analyses in semi-rant form because my brain is too chaotic and goes on too many tangents. It cannot be tamed. Informal essay under the cut!

So. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has heard others refer to Nemu as a shadow, Touka 2.0, or some other frankly reductive term. Most of the time, unless her creations come up, she’s not discussed at all, and even then… barely. That’s not exactly surprising. Given Nemu’s normally calm demeanor, and the fact that she and Touka are joined at the hip, it’s only natural that Touka would be the one to get the most attention, the one who stands out. Where Touka is the boisterous sun, Nemu is the humble moon. Today, we turn our eyes to the moon.

There is so much to talk about when it comes to Magius Nemu and pretty much all of it is going to make you really sad. Much like Touka and all other magical girls, she led a double life the entire time, but in her case, when she “traded one terminal illness for another” she got the short end of the stick. Imagine being a writer and discovering that your magic allows you to give physical form to your stories, to breathe life into your creations—literally. Now picture finding out later down the line that each time you use it, it consumes so much magic that it shaves off pieces of your very life force. That’s one slap in the face. But, it gets worse.

Let me lay out everything we know about how Magius Nemu’s sacrifices affected her physically, and how each of the people around her responded to her worsening condition. First, we know it causes pain severe enough to temporarily affect her vision and speech, and severe enough to make her fall to the ground, though she doesn’t always faint from it. We know it inflicts exhaustion and that even something like releasing an uwasa for the first time can make her pass out on the spot, so presumably it’s a lengthy process that takes a toll on her at every stage (well not sure about conceptualization, but creation and release definitely do). A voiced example of one of these episodes is in Arc 1 Chapter 8, 4:02:36 - 4:03:43 if you're watching the video.

Now, as for the people around Nemu, starting from more distant to closest. Her family? Oblivious, responsible for her state of emotional deprivation and for several other issues. Alina? Ehh she seems to either not care or care very little, which is properly Alina-esque of her. Mifuyu? Oh let me talk about MIFUYU for a second. Disclaimer, despite her many sins committed against my favorite characters, I do love the sheep, she’s too much of a failure, I cannot hate her. But Mifuyu “I want to be a nurse” Azusa is insensitive beyond belief, and I was honestly surprised when they appointed her to be some sort of… ethics teacher for Touka? Bruh. You see, an MGS is supposed to put us in the shoes of whatever character it’s about. That’s what it does. However my brain is broken and perceives the world from a TouNemu perspective by default. Which means I had a completely different reading of Mifuyu’s MGS. I am going to illustrate my point with screenshots this time because I happen to have them on hand.

Mifuyu says this about Touka and Nemu getting worked up over Alina wanting to prioritize witches above rumors. But. Here’s the thing. The thing that Mifuyu seems to be missing completely. Rumors are created by Nemu, through a sacrifice of her own life force that worsens her pain and makes her suffer more with each subsequent use. Evidently, the girls reply that no, they don’t think they were getting too emotional.

YOU THINK? Have you given any thought to why that could possibly be the case, Mifuyu? But, okay, fine, we can look past this. Alright. Next scene, it’s Touka and Nemu being upset that Yachiyo just destroyed the Divorce Stairs (I call them that, but for clarification, it’s the Friendship-Ending Staircase). I’m going to bring something up that I don’t believe is exactly contradicted by canon, though not confirmed either, but I’d be willing to believe by the fact that Nemu knows of Iroha (by name and I assume appearance) that there’s a psychic link of some kind between the uwasa and their creator. That would make sense, considering they are made of her magic and have pieces of her life force. If this is true, then that massacre Iroha and Yachiyo go on during Arc 1 Chapter 7 is far, far worse.

But alright, back to the scene. Touka is standing up for Nemu here, and Mifuyu proceeds to go and dismiss their feelings because, as she says in her thoughts, “they’re just children”. Okay, Mifuyu, hear me out. They’re 11-12. They’re not toddlers. Just because they’re children doesn’t make their emotions invalid, unimportant, or not worth considering. Particularly in this case, where they have a good reason to be upset. Nemu even mentions the life force she’s using up and Mifuyu’s first and only thought is “Yacchan…” (this is a repeating pattern).

The next relevant scene is one where Mifuyu does something Alina has also done and Touka hasn't: ask Nemu to make a rumor for her.

Nemu reminds her that it comes at a cost, and that she’s using up her life for this. Nemu gives in, of course. I will talk about this imminently. First though, the final scene of Mifuyu’s MGS. Where Mifuyu repeats the previous pattern but worse. How exactly is it worse? I’ll let the screenshots speak for themselves here. Nemu and Mifuyu meet at the shrine where the uwasa is going to be released, Nemu does the deed, and faints, then Mifuyu reacts like this:

These screenshots are less than a second apart. It is the immediate follow-up. Absolutely zero concern for one of the people she’s supposed to be responsible for who just did her a pretty big favor (as if you needed someone’s blood to open a door, they stabbed themselves to get you the blood, and then you left them on the ground in pain). So yes Mifuyu is insensitive and she is not helping Nemu’s view of adults. Relatedly, before I move to talking about Touka, since I’d like to actually end this on a non-depressing note, I’m going to circle back a little to Nemu’s family.

I am infamous for not liking Nemu’s family. Her parents, mainly. Her brother, for as much of a snotty brat as he is to her, is presumably still very tiny and has had scarce interactions with his sister, therefore leading to the way Nemu describes their relationship (“strangers”). As a slight aside, Nemu does try very hard to have a relationship with her brother, not only in her MGS, but in her solo Christmas quotes where she’s lost on what to get as a gift for a kid that likes soccer and asks Homescreen-chan for advice. And you see, Nemu has this thing where once you get past a certain point with her, she becomes a people pleaser. Unlike when Ui’s parents have visited before (seen in TouNemu’s Christmas MGS), Nemu was shocked to hear that her mother and brother had come to see her. This leads me to believe the visits are an extremely rare occurrence and that there is no other contact besides them. Ui’s parents at least video call her, from what the quotes say.

And now we have reached the point where it’s unavoidable and I have to talk about Nemu’s emotional trauma. Her family does not seem to know about her writing, which was a good call because it shielded her from much of the gifted kid trauma. However, that doesn’t mean her parents’ actions (or lack thereof) were without consequence. A lot of these might be subconscious, so bear with me a second. At this point in the timeline, Nemu struggles to believe that others will meet her needs or care for her. She seeks affirmation, acceptance, approval, and fortunately seems to get it in the form of her website and Touka during this era.

Let me give you some examples of Nemu’s people-pleasing tendencies, as any kid would learn that catering to the needs and desires of others can sometimes lead to a sense of belonging or validation—she explicitly wants that, she is aware that she wants to feel loved. This is immensely obvious with her family’s visits, where her first reaction isn’t good but then she plays along and puts up a happier face (which drops literally as soon as her mother and brother are out of the room), even apologizing for the slightest inconvenience regardless of whether or not the reaction to that inconvenience was bad (the book that was hard to find, the general Presence™ of her family in the room, apologizes again for talking about her feelings, etc). So that she doesn’t have to burden them with her feelings. So that her mother can feel like she’s fulfilled her duty by walking into the room, giving Nemu a rundown of what the family has been up to, and leaving without really actually spending any real quality time with her or bothering to really ask about her. Touka gets (righteously) angry in Nemu’s stead once her mother and brother have left precisely because of this. Nemu proceeds to, like many children in her position, defend her parents completely and then chastise herself for “looking down on them”. Touka and Ui both understand at least the heart of the issues at play here, and express as much. My point here isn’t exactly “Nemu’s parents are equivalent to Sana’s” or anything, it’s more that they’re extremely oblivious and their actions (and lack thereof) have hurt Nemu deeply.

That habit Nemu’s parents have of never truly showing interest in their daughter’s life seems to remain after the hospital, and then they’re focused on her brother’s comfort. Not Nemu’s. Never Nemu’s. Then, later on, in the Wings of the Magius, every time someone asks her to make a rumor (read: sacrifice a piece of her life force and make herself feel physically worse presumably forever), she agrees. Mifuyu asks her to, yeah sure. Alina wants a rumor? Of course. I won’t count when everyone asked her for stuff to add to Fendt Hope solely because I’m not sure Fendt Hope works like normal rumors do. Something, something, difficulty setting and maintaining healthy boundaries, struggling to distinguish her own needs from the needs of others…

A child who learned that her voice and desires were not prioritized in such critical stages of her life naturally struggles to articulate her own needs and wants. Prime example, Fendt Hope’s creation. She listens to the others give their ideas for it, never suggesting anything herself after reminding them of her usefulness. Until. Touka asks. When she does, Nemu seems almost taken aback. She apologizes. Nothing comes to mind. That very same day, she gets home, tries again to have some sort of positive interaction or time with her brother, gets rejected. As soon as an alternative form of service (doing the dishes for her exhausted mother so that she may help her brother with homework) presents itself, she practically jumps at the opportunity. The scene after that one, with the way she views Touka, Alina, and Mifuyu, vs the way she views her mother and brother, only makes this more obvious. How is Nemu supposed to feel any sense of value at home? At least as a magical girl, she’s useful. At least as a Magius, she has people who know her. The feelings of low self-worth aren’t as obvious on Nemu as they are on many of the other girls who have them, though.

The next time there’s a Magius meeting, this time to decide on a name for their base, Touka is again the one who asks Nemu for her opinion. It’s important to note that Touka is never once hostile, aggressive, or even annoyed when she does this. She considers Nemu’s thoughts and feelings more than anyone. Heck, Nemu would have no way to doubt Touka’s care for her considering their history and the way she acts.

Now I get to talk about the relationship between Magius Nemu and Magius Touka. If I start gushing incoherently, I apologize in advance. I covered a bit of Magius Touka’s attitude towards Nemu in the essay dedicated to her, and slightly in this one, but now I want to draw attention to how incredibly sweet Touka can be when it comes to Nemu. Nemu desperately needs that reliability and that love Touka provides, the hope she brings. And Touka is the one person who openly shows her care, attention. Over and over again.

Touka considers Nemu an equal. During the main story, as I said in my Magius Touka essay, she shows concern for Nemu’s health and wellbeing when no one else does. This goes beyond her magic-given affliction! I only wish we had more bits and pieces from that era, but as for what we do have… Well, I have to point at Nemu’s swimsuit costume story for the easiest and shortest point of reference. I’d use screenshots, but if I did, I would just end up showing you every single piece of dialogue and expression.

In that costume story, Touka and Nemu are at Fendt Hope, talking about their future trip to the beach (which they made plans for together in Touka’s swimsuit costume story). Nemu has her insecurities, and she’s shy about putting on the swimsuit, but then Touka proceeds to be incredibly supportive by first making her feel comfortable—for some reason she also had her own swimsuit lying around and offered to wear it too because Nemu mentioned it’d be embarrassing if she was the only one wearing a swimsuit and Touka was wearing clothes—then as soon as Nemu expresses self-doubt, she doubles down via genuine compliments (these two compliment each other way more than you think, even in main story Touka praises Nemu for her ideas). This is also a rare occasion where we’re shown that Nemu’s parents, or her mom at least, who seems more present than her dad, mean no harm, since it was Nemu’s mother who helped pick out every element of her swimsuit. After that, Touka goes off to change back into her school uniform, and Nemu is “uncharacteristically giddy” (as she states) looking at herself in the mirror. Touka gets back, and Nemu is startled to have been caught in a vulnerable state, but, critically, Touka is happy to see her happy and doesn’t tease her, although Nemu (jokingly, blushing) laments that letting Touka read her heart is the greatest failure of her life. Nemu asks Touka to listen. And Touka complies. Nemu trusts Touka with her heart, with her honest feelings, and knows Touka will never hurt her. That’s why she’s able to be so sincere with her. This is shown in Nemu’s Tap 8 quote, where she also refers to Touka as trustworthy (Touka has a matching Tap 8 quote, and hers is about how reliable Nemu is for her). This relationship, no matter what it is, is deeply important to both participants.

Finally, to end this glorified rant… I know I used the sun and moon metaphor earlier, but. I would like to borrow the words of Nemu in one of my fics: “It’s silent at night. Touka stays up with her telescope, I stay up reading nearby. We are stardust brought to life. A quiet place, just for us. The gentlest fire in us, like binary stars.” (I’m sorry but the binary stars comparison is too good not to mention). Their connection was there before the Magius, and after everything they went through, their lives became irreversibly bound, intertwined beyond the understanding of quite literally anyone else. They practically always speak in plural, the time they spend together has been on the rise, and at the time of writing? To avoid spoiling Arc 2 Chapter 12, I won’t go into specifics, but the relationship has reached a beautiful point that I will froth at the mouth about eventually.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the Nemu essay, I went slightly more feral this time so apologies for that. I’ll see how soon the hospital era essay can be thrown into the wild. Nishi out!

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Subaru Dark [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in front of the gate to the Demon World

Yui: ( I can get to the Demon World...By passing through this door. I’m sure I’d be able to meet up with Subaru-kun there, right? )

( I’m sure the Demon World has its own risks but...As long as I can reunite with Subaru-kun, I’m sure I’ll be fiーー )

*Creaaaak*

Yui: !

Subaru: You...!

Yui: Subaru-kun!?

Subaru: Knowing you, I had a hunch you’d come after me...Guess I hit the nail on the head, huh...?

Yui: Subaru-kun...Did you come and get me, perhaps?

Subaru: ...Don’t be gettin’ the wrong idea now! You see...I’m only here ‘cause I was worried ‘bout the house.

Yui: ...Fufu~

Subaru: Whatcha laughin’ for!?

Yui: Sorry. I felt so relieved as soon as I saw your face, I couldn’t help myself.

It was quite scary by myself after all...

So I’m glad you’re here.

Subaru: Hmph. Look at you grinning. ...Let’s get goin’ already.

Yui: Yeah.

( Subaru-kun...He really did come for me, didn’t he? )

( My anxiety is fading, almost as if I was never worried at all. )

( To think I can feel this way just from being together...I must really love him after all. )

Subaru: Oi, don’t be takin’ your sweet time ...Geez, when are you gonna wipe that grin off your face?

Yui: ...Coming! (1)

ー The scene shifts to the forest in the Demon World

Yui: ...It’s pitch black, huh?

Subaru: That’s ‘cause the lunar eclipse is ongoing. It’s gonna be like this for quite some time.

Yui: ( Which means it’ll be dark the whole time? Seems rather depressing. It’s a little scary as well... )

Subaru: ...

*Rustle*

Yui: Subaru-kun...?

( He grabbed my hand... )

Subaru: ...I’ll hold your hand like this.

Don’t look so worried. There’s honestly nothin’ for you to be scared ‘bout.

...I’m here with you, remember?

Yui: Subaru-kun...

Subaru: So make sure to stick by my side as well, ‘kay?

Yui: Yeah, gotcha. I’ll be right besides you the whole time. 

Subaru: ...I didn’t say ‘the whole time!’. It’d just be annoyin’ if you were to be glued to my side 24/7.

Yui: ...Would that be a nuisance? 

Subaru: When did I say that!? ...Fuck!

You should just stop rackin’ your brain over lil’ things and be with me, that’s all!

Yui: Yes!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall of the Sakamaki castle

Yui: What a lovely place...This is you guys’ house, right?

( Or castle, I should say... )

Subaru: Oi, don’t wander off. Father’s power is protectin’ the place from any outside threats, but even inside there’sーー

ー Approaching footsteps can be heard

Yui: ( Somebody’s here...? )

???: ...

Yui: ( A woman...? )

( She’s beautiful...Although she seems oddly familiarーー )

Subaru: ーー Mom.

Yui: Eh...?

( She’s Subaru-kun’s mother!? )

Christa: ...Oh my?

Yui: ( Ah, our eyes met... )

Christa: How unusual. A guest...?

Subaru: ...

Christa: !!

Yui: ( Eh...? Her expression changed...? )

Christa: No...Stop!! Stay away!!

Yui: Eh...? U-Um...

Christa: Stay away from me!!

Subaru: Che...Oi! Is nobody ‘round!?

Familiar A: Yes!

Christa: Stop! Don’t touch me!! Let me go!!

Familiar A: Ma’am! Please, follow me this way...!

ー Christa is escorted away

Yui: ...

Subaru: ...Haah...

Yui: Subaru-kun...That woman just now...

Subaru: ...She’s my mother...

She hadn’t been actin’ that way as of late...So what happened?

Yui: Perhaps the lunar eclipse is affecting her...?

Subaru: ...You might be right.

Yui: ( The eclipse makes Vampires emotionally unstable, doesn’t it? Is his mother experiencing something similar...? )

Subaru: Haah...

Yui: ( Subaru-kun seems exhausted. Although I can’t blame him after his mother spoke to him in such a way... )

( It must hurt, regardless if she’s being affected by the eclipse or not... )

Subaru: Oi. Let’s just get you to your room for now.

Yui: Sure.

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the balcony

Subaru: ...

ー Yui walks up to him

Yui: Subaru-kun?

Subaru: ...All settled in?

Yui: Yeah. Thanks. I can’t believe you had a room prepared even though I came uninvited.

Subaru: If you need anythin’ else, just ask one of the Familiars. They should be able to arrange most stuff.

Yui: Gotcha.

...Are you okay, Subaru-kun?

Subaru: ...How so?

Yui: I’m worried you might be taking what your mother said to heart.

Subaru: ...

Yui: ( She went through a lot...to the point of no longer being able to live by herself, didn’t she? )

( Worried about her well-being, Subaru-kun would go check up on her every now and then. )

( However, with the lunar eclipse ongoing...I wonder if she’s even more unstable than usual? )

...I’m sure it’ll get better once the eclipse has passed.

( This is pretty much all I can say... )

Subaru: ...Yui. Come here for a sec.

Yui: Sure.

Subaru: Take a seat.

Yui: ...? Okay.

Subaru: Lend me your shoulder. ...Even just for a lil’ bit.

Yui: Eh...?

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“Your hand’s so tiny and slender...Yet it’s strangely comfortin’...”

“When I imagine something might happen to you...I nearly lose my mind. Stay by my side, okay?”

Yui: Subaru-kun...?

Subaru: ...I’m glad you’re here. Just by doin’ this, I feel like some weight has been taken off my mind. 

Yui: ...

*Rustle*

Subaru: ...What’s your deal?

Yui: ( ...He seemed down, so my hand subconsciously moved to pat his head... )

You didn’t like it?

Subaru: ...I never said that.

Yui: ( ...It must be hard. To have your own family push you away in such a way. )

( She seemed normal when our eyes met though... )

Subaru: Haah...

Yui: Hey, Subaru-kun? You don’t have to push yourself in front of me.

If you’re worried about your mother, I’ll do everything I can to help as well. 

Think about it, a stranger might have a better shot at getting through to her...

Subaru: Don’t think ‘bout it. I can’t let you do that.

She can get extremely violent when she snaps. You might get hurt if you’re near her.

Yui: But...The Lunar Eclipse makes her unstable, doesn’t it? In which case it might be better to have someone there by her side.

Subaru: Even if that were the case, there’s no reason you should carry that burden.

Yui: Burden, you say...

I just want you to cheer up, that’s all.

Subaru: ...

...Don’t come cryin’ to me afterwards.

Yui: Don’t worry. She’s your mother after all.

Subaru: ...You fool.

Yui: I hope the Eclipse will come to an end soon.

Subaru: They last long here. It won’t be over any time soon.

Yui: I see. You said that before, didn’t you?

Subaru: Yeah. That’s why they’re even more annoyin’.

Yui: I wonder if you’re letting me dote on you because of the Lunar Eclipse as well.

Subaru: Haah!? Dote on who!? 

Yui: I mean, usually you’d get upset if I were to pat your head like this, no?

Subaru: ...Then, should I get upset now?

Yui: Eh?

Subaru: ‘Cause you keep spoutin’ bullshit...I’ve become thirsty for your blood.

I’ll suck you harshly like usual.

Yui: ...But you’re always gentle, you know?

Subaru: I’m not. ...I won’t be kind with you.

ー Subaru bites her

Subaru: Hah, nn...Nn...

Yui: Uu...

Subaru: Nn...Phew...

Hah...Oi, Yui. Tell me as soon as somethin’ happens, ‘kay?

Yui: ...Of course.

( See? He really is gentle after all... )

*TIMESKIP*

Christa: ーー Nii-sama!! Where my dearest cousin!? (2)

Yui: !?

ー Yui wakes up in her room

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: That voice just now...!? 

*Rustle*

Yui: Ah...You woke up as well, Subaru-kun? The person shouting earlier...

Subaru: ...It was mom’s voice.

Yui: I wonder if something happened...? I’m worried so I’ll go take a look.

Subaru: You’re actually gonna look after her?

Yui: I mean...I can’t just turn a blind eye either.

ー Yui walks towards the door

Subaru: Ah, oi!

ー She leaves the room

Subaru: ...Will she be okay...?

ー The scene shifts to the library

Christa: Aah, why!? Why won’t anyone come!?

...Nii-sama...

*Knock knock*

ー Yui enters the library

Yui: Um, pardon the intrusion.

Christa: ...! You...

Yui: I could hear your voice so...Um, are you okaーー

Christa: Cordelia!?

Yui: Eh?

Christa: Cordelia...! Why are you here...?

Yui: ( Cordelia...? The name of the triplets’ mother...? Is she mistaking me for her, perhaps? )

Christa: Aah, Cordelia...I pity you as well.

I find it surprising you have stuck around this castle for so long. Do you still believe he loves you?

Yui: U-Um...

Christa: But I know. That is...a horrible misunderstanding. 

There is no love to speak of. Both you and me...We’re only being used by that man.

Yui: ( Used...? )

ー Subaru approaches them

Yui: Ah, Subaru-kuーー

Christa: ...!! No way! You’re here again!?

*Woosh*

Subaru: Ugh...Oi, cut it out!

Christa: No, don’t take one step closer!!

*Woosh*

Christa: Don’t show me your face!! Keep those filthy hands off me...!!

*Woosh*

Yui: ( ...! She threw a lamp at him...! )

Subaru-kun!

Subaru: Wha...Idiot! Don’t step in!

*THUD*

*Shatter*

Yui: Ow...!

Subaru: Yui!!

You fool...! You’re bleeding!

Yui: I’m fine...More importantly, your mother...

Subaru: ‘Fine’, my ass! Let’s get outta here!

*Rustle*

ー Subaru drags her away back to their room

Subaru: ...Has it stopped bleedin’?

Yui: Yeah. I’m fine now.

Subaru: Doesn’t it hurt?

Yui: It was just a scratch.

Subaru: Really? You’re a chick...and a human one at that. Shouldn’t you like disinfect it or somethin’?

Yui: You’re way too much of a worrywart, Subaru-kun. This kind of small injury will heal quickly, even when you’re human.

( Thank god one of the shards just lightly scraped my skin. Subaru-kun didn’t get hurt either. )

Subaru: ...

...You shouldn’t be here after all.

Yui: Eh?

Subaru: If you stay here, you’ll definitely get hurt again. I’m gonna get you back to the human world before that happens.

We’re leavin’ at once. Before mom becomes even more crazyーー

Yui: W-Wait, Subaru-kun! You’re blowing this way out of proportion!

The skin’s just a little scraped, so I promise you I’m fine. Don’t worry, okay?

Subaru: ...

Christa: Hurry up and bring Nii-sama to me! I am waiting!!

Subaru: ...Let’s step outside. You’re comin’ with me.

Monologue

Along the way after we left the manor,

I told Subaru-kun about what happened earlier.

That Christa-san,

had called me ‘Cordelia’. 

Yui: She seems to have the wrong idea.

Subaru: ーー About you?

Yui: Yeah. Seems like she thinks that I’m Cordelia. ...I wonder why?

Subaru: ...It just proves she’s not in her right mind, no? Did she say anythin’ else?

Yui: Um...Ah, right...

Subaru: What?

Yui: She said that...She’s being used by someone. 

Subaru: Used...? The fuck?

Yui: I don’t know myself but...According to her, so was Cordelia.

Subaru: I don’t get it...Oi, Yui. You should stop botherin’ with her as well.

Yui: But...She seemed calm when I was with her.

( Or rather, that might have been Cordelia’s influence... )

Subaru: ...I know she loses it as soon as she spots me.

Looking at it that way...It might be better if I wasn’t ‘round her.

Yui: Subaru-kun. Don’t put it like that. 

Subaru: ...It bothers me. It seems very likely you’ll get hurt if we stay here any longer. 

She may be my mom...But I’m not lettin’ her harm you.

Yui: ...Thank you, Subaru-kun.

But because she is your mother, I want to get on well with her.

Subaru: ...Che...Why are you so persistent...?

Yui: Because I loーー

Subaru: ...Nevermind, don’t say it! You’re just gonna spout weird shit again, aren’t you!?

...Fine. Do as you please. However, there’s one condition!

Whenever you’re with her, make sure I can jump in to save you at all times, ‘kay?

Don’t let yourself be alone with her in a private room. That’s the condition.

I’ll protect you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.

Yui: ( I’m pretty sure he doesn’t need to be that worried... )

( This just proves how concerned he is about me...as well as Christa-san, right? )

Yeah, sure. Thank you, Subaru-kun.

( ...I hope that one day, the three of us will all be able to sit down together for a nice chat... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Yui simply responds with うん! which would be ‘yeah!’ or ‘sure!’ in English. However, that didn’t quite make sense as a response to his question in the translation, so I adapted it a little. 

(2) 兄様 or ‘nii-sama’ is literally an affectionate or highly formal way to refer to one’s older brother. However, it is not uncommon in Japan for the word ‘nii-san’ or ‘nii-sama’ to be extended and used for elder, male people (whether other family members or even random strangers) by those who are younger than them. I did a quick Google search on the ‘calling your cousin onii-san’ topic in specific and found multiple responses of native speakers who admitted to doing this. 

To avoid confusion and since ‘my dearest cousin’ is a bit long for my liking to use repeatedly, I will simply use ‘Nii-sama’ in my translation.

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<- [ Sakamaki Prologue ] [ Dark 01 ] ->

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Chapter 3

⚠WARNING: Mention of previous characters' deaths

• ────── ✾ ────── •

You have no idea how you got here.

Here, being in front of the lone coffee shop on campus, on your way to meet the stranger who’s had the misfortune to get Hajime’s old phone number and receive your sad ramblings meant for no one else.

And you, the author of those sad ramblings, written in moments of weakness, are going to sit with this stranger and….

You haven’t gotten that far yet.

Honestly, you’ve been more incredulous at the odds of this meeting even happening.

What the hell am I doing???

You really have no explanation, not even for yourself. The time is 9:58 and in two minutes you’re going to walk into the cafe and meet with a stranger who is going through a traumatic life experience similar to yours.

Ok, so you can explain what you’re doing. But the why is what’s escaping you. And frankly that should scare you more than it is currently doing.

Especially seeing how you haven’t told your friends what you’re doing. You bugged off lunch (much to Oikawa’s annoyance) but didn’t tell them why. Not only would Oikawa throw a fit but he, Mattsun and Makki wouldn’t understand your reasoning for meeting a stranger you met only a few hours ago.

They really wouldn’t understand why you don’t have a solid reason for meeting this stranger.

Put all the red flags together and you would find yourself locked in your apartment with no means of escaping under Oikawa’s watch.

To be fair, you are meeting them in a public place and you have no intention of going anywhere with the stranger. You’re just going to go have a cup of tea, shoot the shit, and then leave.

Yeah, it’s definitely doable. And not at all crazy.

You take a deep breath before walking inside the shop. It’s a bit crowded - the weekend mid-morning rush makes the employees hustle behind the counter to fill orders. All of the tables are full, leaving no space for two strangers to sit and….

Oh, this was a bad idea. A really bad and stupid idea.

Your phone rings in your pocket. You pull it out and nearly jump at the caller ID.

Your brain points out that it’s not Hajime but the stranger you’re meeting. You pick up the phone quickly. “Hello?”

“Heya, how’re ya doin’?”

You hope you’ve schooled your expression into nonchalance but you can’t help your eyebrows jumping hearing the clear Kansai dialect through the phone.

Besides the surprise at the unfamiliar drawl, you’re pleased to hear a clear and strong voice on the other line. Nothing creepy or weird or anything your brain was trying to convince would be the case.

“Hi.” You reply into the phone. You can hear background noise from his end, which assures you again that he must actually be here.

“‘M over in the corner with the baseball cap.”

Your eyes move to the corner immediately and zero-in on a figure sitting at the table there. It’s a man, wearing a dark long-sleeve shirt and a dark ball cap. And he’s staring straight at you.

You hang up the phone and walk over to him. You spot a coffee cup on the table in front of him and watch as he takes his hat off and sets it on the tabletop. His silver-grey hair is messed up from the hat but that’s the least of your concerns at the moment.

No, what has you almost faltering in your steps is the exhaustion that lies deep on his face. The bags under his eyes are heavy and stark against his pale skin. His mouth is drawn in a small frown and with his eyebrows furrowed slightly it makes him look troubled.

You recognize his weariness. This is a man who is burdened to carry an intangible weight.

However this man still meets your gaze and gives you a small, tired smile. The small gesture brightens his face considerably but doesn’t completely erase the empty look. But you feel your nerves settle when he smiles at you.

“Hi,” he says when you approach the table.

“Hello.” You sit in the chair opposite of his and shrug your jacket off. “It’s busy, thanks for grabbing a table.”

“No worries.” Hearing his calm and measured tone in person relaxed you more than you realized and you felt some tension release from your shoulders. “‘M here all the time and I figured they’d be a bit busy on Saturday. D’ya want me to grab ya something from the counter?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shake your head to emphasize your point.

“Nah, I insist. Coffee? Tea? Fancy mocha drink?”

“Uh,” you’re startled by his insistence but relent. “A tea, please. Jasmine if they have it.”

He nodded before standing and making his way to the register, letting you fully settle in your seat and try to still comprehend what the hell you are doing.

Mid-inner freak out (oh god, what if he drugs my tea, what am I doing?!) a cup materializes in front of you. Osamu comes around with another cup for himself and sits in the chair across from you.

“They had Jasmine and it smells amazin’.” He shifts in his seat and takes a sip of his coffee. “‘M not a big tea drinker but that smells like it would calm ya down real good.”

You send him a smile before lifting the cup up. The smell of jasmine tea was soothing and the taste was even better when you took a small sip. “It’s my go-to comfort drink. I’ve probably had a few more cups than normal in the past few months.”

The sympathetic look the stranger sends you makes you purse your lips, realizing too late what you said. You look away, cursing to yourself. Great, way to go and make it awkward now. It’s quiet for a bit, now awkward by your weird ~fun fact~

“My name’s Miya Osamu.” You look up at the man and see a rueful smile on his face. “I probably shoulda told ya my name earlier. ‘M a first year student at Sendai University.”

You blink. Of fucking course you didn’t know his name. You never thought to ask when texting him earlier. You met up with a LITERAL stranger for tea and coffee.

“Wow, I’m sorry for being so rude!” You hurriedly say. “I should’ve asked AGES ago. But my name’s L/N Y/N. I’m also a first year student at Sendai.”

“Huh.” Osamu (not The Stranger) says. “What a weird coincidence.”

You nod. “Yeah, um are you not from around here? I can tell by your dialect.”

Osamu hums. For the first time you see his face fall and set into something more stone-like. It’s a subtle difference but it’s there nonetheless. “Hyogo. Came to Miyagi for school and had to get a new number.”

“Oh.” It’s a dry answer that you really don’t know how to reply to. “Do you like it so far?”

He shrugs. “It’s not bad. Pretty far.”

You nod. “Yeah, it is.”

You both lapse into a silence that is neither comfortable nor relaxing.

Oh my GOD this is so awkward! Why did you agree to this? Why did you think this was a good idea?! Yeah sure, he’s not a freaking weirdo serial killer, you can check that off your list. But you didn’t think about what you would actually TALK about!

“Do ya wanna talk about Hajime?”

Your reply to his question is to spit your tea across the table.

You look up to meet Osamu’s concerned gaze. Neither of you move before you both reach across to grab napkins from the dispenser.

“Are ya alright?”

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!”

In your haste to clean up your tea the napkin dispenser gets knocked to the ground, and the napkins explode out like an explosion of white confetti.

“Ahhhhhhhh!” The napkins springing up startle you so much that your knee knocks into the table hard, almost upending Osamu’s coffee.

“Argh!” You lean down to clutch your knee as it throbs painfully but your head collides with the table instead. “OUCH!”

“Are ya alright?!” Osamu asks frantically.

You exhale deeply. “Yep, I’m just a klutz. Fuck, that hurt my head.” You wish you could keep your head down and disappear. But you look up, your face bright red with embarrassment, and meet the concerned look from Osamu.

“I’m ok,” you reassure. “Really.” You look around at the mess surrounding your table and catch a few people gawking. Good lord. “Besides my pride taking a beating, I’m all good.” You stoop down to grab the napkins scattered around, wincing at the waste. Osamu also bends down to help.

“It looked like a pretty hard hit,” he notes.

“It’d be worse if I had something in my head worth keeping safe.”

Osamu smiles at your quip, a little half-smile. It’s nice.

Soon you both stand back up to throw out the napkins. Osamu grabs the bunch from you, letting you sit back down. You try to cool the fuck out and you will your face to not resemble a tomato when he comes back.

“Are you sure yer alright?” Osamu asks again.

“Yes, really.” You nod. “I’m sorry if I spat tea on you. I was just really surprised.”

Osamu tilted his head. “From what I said?” You nod. “Why?”

“I mean,” you start. “It mainly just caught me off guard. I’m not used to it, like just talking about him.”

“Do ya talk about him at all?”

You want to nod, but thinking about it you honestly don’t remember the last time you were able to tell someone about Hajime. Not his passing, but just talking about the person that he was.

“Oh.” Osamu pauses, looking at you considering. “Well my old therapist said it’s good to talk about this stuff, so I figured that’s what ya wanted.”

You don’t know how to reply to his simple explanation. Because you do want to talk about Hajime. You want to so badly. You want to tell the world how amazing he is, how he makes the world a better place just by existing, how strong he is and how much lighter you feel when he’s around

Or, how it was.

But you haven’t been able to talk about him. Every time you tried to talk outside of group therapy with your friends, Oikawa shuts down and Makki and Mattsun get uncomfortable. Your therapist is always able to handle anything you throw at her, but it’s not the same as just talking about a friend to someone.

So maybe Osamu is right about just talking about Hajime.

“He has hair like a porcupine.”

Osamu gives you a look of confusion before you continue. “Our friend Oikawa used to call him prickly, and we’d tease him when he’d bristle up and say he looks like a porcupine.” You laugh at the memory of Hajime bristling up, constantly egged on by Oikawa. “It wasn’t even bad hair, it was just so sharp. It was weird.”

Osamu doesn’t say anything for a second before he bursts out laughing. “Atsumu had weird hair too - dyed bleach blonde. Thought it made him look badass.” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

You wrap your hand around your cup of tea, hesitating. An obvious question hangs in the air but for the first time since sitting down Osamu looks a bit lively.

“Was Atsumu your brother?”

The lightness on Osamu’s face is extinguished when he nods at your question. “Yeah, he’s a pain in the ass but I love him.” He pauses, looking down at his coffee cup. “Well, he was.”

You can feel the pain radiating from that one word. You understand the horrid dread that comes when you realize you’d been speaking about Hajime in the present tense. Even more so when you have to admit it out loud.

You look at Osamu and frown upon seeing his withdrawn expression. You feel immense guilt, knowing that you’ve contributed to his change in mood.

You’re desperate to lighten the mood and bring that smile back to Osamu’s face. You search through your memories, trying to find something funny. A thought crosses your mind and you feel a small smile grace your lips.

“There was one time that my friend was determined to roast smores on Iwa’s head.” You giggle at the disbelieving look on Osamu’s face. “Yeah, it was the stupidest idea he’d ever concocted. We didn’t even get one marshmallow on his head.”

“We?” Osamu asks, his voice lifting in amusement ever so slightly.

“Of course.” You reply, a smile spreading over your face at the memory and at Osamu’s content face. “I too was curious if we could do it.”

Osamu snorts, shaking his head as he brought his coffee to his mouth. “That idea would have intrigued Atsumu for sure. He was all about the far-fetched plots to piss off everyone around him.”

You smile, leaning forward in your chair. “Oh yeah? Wanna share some notes?” Osamu’s face brightens slightly at your words and he begins to talk, more animatedly than before.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: So nothing bad happened with Y/N meeting the stranger (besides her being a clumsy klutz, where are my fellow klutzes at?) Thank you for reading, I hope this chapter was a little soft respite from the initial angst~

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU (bold cannot be tagged): @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien

[softyoongiionly]

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Seventeen

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, College! Yoongi, Sub! Yoongi

Word Count: 9.1k

A/N: Hi friends! Here is a new chapter for you. I know it’s been a super duper long time since I’ve updated this series but, I plan on wrapping up the current timeline (wink wink) within the first half of the year! Special shoutout to my amazing friend @bulletproofbirdy​ who I love so so much. Without her big genius brain, I would literally not be able to get through any of my wip. Another huge shoutout to @gldnrecs​ @kithtaehyung​ @yoonia​ and @randombtsprincessa​ for being my lil hype team. I love you! Also, thank you to everyone over at @bangtansorciere​. I am so grateful to have met so many lovely new friends this year! okiii bye. I hope you like it!

NOTE: all bolded words indicate when characters are speaking Korean

Warnings for this Chapter: ok here we go…(TRIGGER WARNING)

moderate angst, drug use (marijuana), mentions of anxiety, brief allusions to physical abuse, very brief allusions to drug addiction, alcohol 

Chapter Seventeen: Daegu and Dirty Laundry

No thoughts, head empty (and in Yoongi’s lap)

The two of you are in his living room, bags packed by the front door, awaiting the cab to take you to the airport.  

In a few short hours, you were leaving on a plane to Daegu to visit Yoongi’s older brother and, you can tell by the way he’s shuffled around all morning that he’s anxious.  

Thankfully, Hoseok and Namjoon woke up with him, knowing that emotions would be high and well- offered to get him high.

“This is a really good indica strain hyung,” Hoseok assures him as he hands over a zip-lock bag, “I rolled a joint with this last night and passed out in like 30 minutes.”

Yoongi, dressed in an all-black sweat outfit, accepts the bag into the palm of his hand, before grabbing the pipe that’s resting on the couch cushion beside him.

“Did you get it from that same guy?” Yoongi asks, his voice heavy beneath the obvious tension he’s feeling.

Despite his attempts to remain casual, you know him well enough to feel how nervous he is. He’s practically vibrating beneath you but, you know that pointing this out will only make it worse so instead, you merely rub the outside of his thigh whilst he packs his pipe. 

“Yeah, Jin’s friend-” Hoseok responds before nodding to Namjoon, “He’s honestly killing it right now. Jin told me he’s made like 5 grand already.”

Namjoon raises his brows, “Really? Damn, that’s impressive, I’ve never heard of anyone taking off that fast.”

“Jin has a lot of contacts-” Yoongi offers, adjusting the bud once more before grabbing his lighter, “it probably helped him get started. Plus, I think a lot of people around here have been looking for a good plug. Whatever he’s doing is working though, the high from last night was pretty good.”

At Yoongi’s comment, Hoseok’s lip melt into a salacious smirk as he raises his brows and jerks his chin towards you, “Are you sure it had nothing to do with that one over there?” He teases, “Yah, what are you so quiet for? You haven’t given me shit all morning...”

His comment makes you giggle but Yoongi cuts in before you’re able to respond.

“She’s tired, leave her alone.” He scolds but his lips twitch at the sound of your laughter.

Hoseok snickers as you finally decide to sit up. You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you even as he lifts the pipe to his mouth. Tucking yourself into the side of the couch, you finally decide to add to the conversation.

“Is the guy you pick up named Yugyeom by chance?” The sleepiness in your tone is more obvious than you were expecting and, it makes Yoongi smile to himself whilst he lights his pipe.

Namjoon nods, “Yeah, it is. Do you know him?”

Yoongi’s attention is on you even as he inhales his first hit, the nerves in his body standing at attention, waiting to be soothed.  

“He was in my human sexuality class.” You remember, with a grin on your lips, “That’s actually where I met Jin too. I just had a feeling that it was him because, he literally always came to class high. Plus, him and Jin were like inseparable.”

Namjoon winces, “Of all the people to get stuck learning about sex with. I’m sorry...”

This makes you laugh, as your mind journey’s back to all the days you spent trying not to make a scene as Jin made sexual puns in the middle of a serious lecture.  

“It definitely kept things interesting...” You offer, “I’m glad to hear that Yugyeom is thriving on his own. He mentioned his dad wanted him to join the family business but, I could never picture that man in a suit.”

Hoseok chuckles before his face tightens with intrigue, “Oof that makes one of us. He would look fine as hell in a suit.”

Namjoon grins, nudging Hoseok with his foot, “You got a thing for him?”

For the first time, you see a hint of shyness overcoming Hoseok’s demeanor but he shrugs it off, trying to appear casual, “I mean- I don’t know about all that. I’m just saying that he would look good in a suit.”

“You’d both look good in suits- together...” You offer, grinning at him, “Maybe in a private venue somewhere...”

Hoseok rolls his eyes but the smile creeping onto his lips is unmistakable, “Shut up- you guys are fucking wild. All I said is that he was hot...”

Giggling, you shrug your shoulders before nodding over to Yoongi, “Yeah well that’s how it starts-” You warn, “Then the next thing you know, you’re sitting on the subway, simping over a selfie he sends you.”

Yoongi’s soft lips immediately turn up in a small smile, the shy boy in him peeking out. At first, he says nothing as he merely passes the pipe to Namjoon, who mirrors a similar expression.

Hoseok is back to his normal mischief, feeling relieved that the heat is off him for the time being.  

“Are you saying you’d marry Yoongi then?”

He expects you to be flustered by this question but, the answer is simple.  

“This man?” You raise your brows as you point to Yoongi, “You’re asking me if I would marry this man right here? Hoseok- I would wife this man up so quickly, it would give you whiplash.”

Your comment causes the three of them to laugh and, to add to the shifting vibe of the room, you feel Yoongi wrap his arm around you in an effort to pull you into his side.

“You can’t say shit like that right in front of them, they don’t need to see me soft...” He mumbles shyly in your ear before kissing your cheek, his heart singing with validation.

“Hyung, you act like we don’t already know who whipped you are for this girl.” Hoseok laughs, eagerly accepting the pipe from a coughing Namjoon.

Yoongi ignores him with his arm still around you, checking his phone with the other hand, “The cab should be here soon, do you need anything before we go?”

“Hyung, you’re gonna leave your piece here right? Cause we kinda need it-”  

Namjoon eyes him suspiciously, “What happened to your bong?”

Hoseok cringes, “I may have accidentally dropped it off the rooftop...”

Namjoon’s eyes blow wide open, “What the fuck were you doing on the rooftop to begin with?”

“I wanted to vibe! The bud was good and, I wanted to listen to the J. Cole album and get in my feelings hyung, get off my dick-” He laughs, playfully defensive.

“Hey that’s J Cole song-” You point out giggling at the double meaning, the exhaustion from earlier finding you once again.

“Exactly, I’m glad you caught that-” Hoseok winks at you before Yoongi finally responds.

“I’m not going to take my pipe through international security. Pot isn’t legal in Korea so, I wouldn’t be smoking while we were there anyway.”  

“Oh shit that’s right-” Namjoon remembers, “I really need to keep up with what’s been going on back home, I heard they were opening the discussion about it recently but, I haven’t kept up with it.”

Hoseok interjects, “What about your brother? He probably has connections.”

Yoongi shrugs, “He might but, I'm not going to worry about it.” He glances at his phone again before turning it towards you, “Our car is here, you ready to go?”

You offer him a small smile as you nod, your cheek tingling still as he places another kiss to it.

He stands up first before holding his hand out to you. Eagerly, you lace your fingers with his and, hoist yourself off the couch.

“Alright you two-” Namjoon stands too, brushing his hands over the front of his hoodie, “Try and send us updates when you can yeah?” He shoots a look towards Yoongi that is filled with an emotion that breaches casual concern.  

Yoongi understands perfectly, offering Namjoon a solemn nod in return as he pats his shoulder, “Yeah I will. I’ll text you when we land...”

Moments later, the two of you are in the back of the cab. Yoongi takes the middle seat so he can be close to you, his fingers are interlaced tightly with your own despite the fact that his hand is already sweating.  

He’s anxious.  

You can feel it and, you’re faced with two options.

Address it

Distract him  

It’s not an easy choice but, you figure this weekend will already be filled with heightened emotions so, you’re not sure if you should breach this topic so early. At the same time though, you don’t want to act like nothing’s wrong and dismiss what he’s clearly feeling.  

So, you land somewhere in the middle.  

Yoongi’s jaw is loaded with tension as you reach over and turn his face towards yours. He doesn’t register what you’re doing at first but he is in tune with your touch as always so, he doesn’t question it.    

Leaning in, you tuck your lips between his own, whilst your free hand comes up to encase the side of his face. You feel him relax beneath your kiss, a sigh leaving his nose as he kisses you back slowly.  

You pull away, pecking at his lips a few times, your thumb rubbing over his cheek.

“It’s going to be ok.” You murmur softly for the sake of his privacy, “We’re going to get through this.”

Yoongi’s eyes open just enough to show you the sheer amount of trust present in them.  

He believes everything that comes out of your mouth and, despite the anxiety that’s raging inside of him, he knows you’re right.  

Pressing his cheek against your hand, a soft smirk graces his lips as he resists the urge to pour his heart out to you for the millionth time.

“I wish it was socially acceptable for you to kiss me like that every time I feel like this...”

You giggle, pecking his lips again for good measure, “It would make our psych presentation really interesting that’s for sure.”

He chuckles, his face adorably smushed against your hand, “I keep forgetting that we have to do that. I don’t even remember the last time we worked on it...”

“Me neither.” You say at first before your eyes light up with realization, “Oh my god wait- the last time was when we watched that horrible spider movie at my apartment! Ugh no wonder I couldn’t remember, I’m pretty sure I've blocked those images from my mind as a coping mechanism.”

Yoongi’s face lights up along with you, “Oh shit, that’s right-” He laughs, “Did we even finish our lists?”

The two of you share another round of laughter, caught up in the ridiculous realization that you had lowkey abandoned your final project.  

You lean over to pull your phone out of your purse, “Here let me check-” Scrolling through your notes app, you find the project tab before allowing your eyes to wander over it, “It looks like I still have deep water and you technically still have night clubs and horror movies. But I mean- you did perform in a night club recently so I feel like that should count.”  

He nods thoughtfully before his face lights up with realization once more, “Oh yeah, I already wrote about that in the research journal, I forget to tell you. That was definitely more of a direct confrontation than I was planning.” He chuckles, “We did sit on the beach and read terrifying facts about the depth of the ocean for mine, would that be enough for you to write about?”  

The two of you have maneuvered so that you’re tucked into Yoongi’s side again, his arm draping comfortably around your shoulders.

“You still have horror movies left though so, I feel like I should maybe confront one more directly too. Besides, I have a feeling that I’ll be able to distract myself in the water if you’re there-” You mumble suggestively, which causes him to smirk as he leans his head back against the seat.

“Oh yeah?” He jerks his head towards you “How so?”

Resting your face on his chest, you smile to yourself and think of a response that’s appropriate for a perfect stranger aka your cab driver, to hear.

“Cause if something touches my feet in the water, I could simply latch myself to your back for safety purposes.” You explain matter of factly.

“If something touched your foot while we were in the water, I’d swim away so fucking fast- I don’t think you’d have time to latch on.” He explains through his laughter

Scoffing, you smack your hand against his chest as you sit up fully, wiggling out of his grip, “So you’d just leave me to die???” You accuse, “Also, last time I checked- you weren’t an Olympic swimmer, what makes you think you’d just zoom out of there???”

Yoongi’s cackling at this point, his hand on his stomach, his previously tense features now smoothed out beneath his amusement, “I’m not saying I would leave you necessarily-”

“Necessarily!” You point out, laughter erupting from your lips as you pinch his side, “After everything we’ve been through, you’re really just gonna let a sea monster eat me!?”

His eyes widen, as his laughter increases, “A sea monster?! Who said anything about a sea monster? Where did they come in????”

“I said something touched my foot???? Obviously that means there is a sea monster, lurking in the depths, trying to eat me and you-” You poke his sternum, “You just said you would leave me to die!”

Yoongi’s face is reddened with the force of his own laughter, his hand subconsciously coming up to cover your own. With his eyes tearing up and his mouth parted to make way for his giggling, you can’t help but admire how beautiful he is.  

Especially when he’s laughing...

He wipes his eyes with his free hand, still chuckling lightly to himself even as he brings your hand to his mouth, “Alright, alright- let's be clear- I would never leave you to die.” He promises, still smirking as he kisses the back of your hand, “Realistically, I’d probably panic and jump on YOUR back.”

With narrowed eyes, you wiggle the fingers he has pressed to his lips, “Well I don’t know how that would work out because, I’d probably you know- swim away so fucking fast that I don’t know if you’d have time to latch on...”

Yoongi snickers as you imitate his voice but, rather than retaliate he simply tugs you by the hand his currently holding and, kisses you.  

It’s soft and sweet- lasting only for a few seconds until he’s pulling away.

“Thank you for coming with me.” He says suddenly, the volume of his voice decreasing significantly.

And as usual, you know that he wants to say way more than he does. But you’re perfectly fine with that.

Yoongi’s subtly is a specific brand and, you’ve grown to love how the little things he does allows him to pack so much emotion into a simple phrase.  

You feel lucky to love such a special person.  

“Of course.” You return his simplicity, pecking his lips once more before settling back in your original position.  

The airport was a blur.  

You’re thankful it passes quickly because, the process of getting through security makes you anxious.  

Yoongi ushers you into your seat before taking both of your bags and, storing them in the overhead compartment. You can’t help but smile as he turns to help an older woman with her luggage as well.

He smiles ( :] ) at her, bowing his head slightly as she thanks him. Yoongi offers her a tiny wave and takes his seat beside you, not noticing the way you smile fondly at him.  

When he takes his seat beside you, the two of you settle into a comfortable silence. Once the flight crew permits it, Yoongi takes his laptop out and begins toying around with one of his songs. You pull your headphones out as well and find one of your favorite playlists. Leaning back against the seat, your eyes eventually begin to droop until you can no longer keep them open.  

The next thing you know, you’re being woken up by someone gently patting your thigh.  

“Sleepy girl...” Yoongi croons in Korean, the sound of his voice alone making you smile, “We’re landing soon.”

Slightly disoriented, you blink your eyes a few times before you’re finally able to focus on your boyfriend’s face.  

You slump against him, rubbing your cheek against the material of his hoodie. He chuckles softly, his arm sliding out from underneath you in order to drape across your shoulders.  

“I’m sorry I fell asleep.” You mumble

He chuckles again, nodding with a false sense of consideration, “Ah yes, you missed so much. Two hours ago, the flight attendant came by and asked if we wanted anything to drink. It was a wild ride...”

Giggling sleepily, you shake your head at his sarcasm before pointing at his laptop.  

“Were you working on your composition project?”

He bites his bottom lip and shakes his head, a bashful expression on his face “No, it was just a song I’ve been working on for a while now.”  

He leaves it at that and, due to the signal from the flight crew, Yoongi begins putting his stuff away as the rest of the cabin prepares for landing.  

“Are we taking the train?” You mumble, still fighting off the remnants of your nap.

Yoongi purses his lips, his eyes narrowed in concentration whilst he scrolls through his phone.

“No, I have a cab waiting for us.” He responds, “It says it’s already here. So, when you get out of customs, just meet me right outside. It should just be a straight shot from immigration.”

You nod and rest your head back against his shoulder, “Okay.”

He puts his phone away, allowing his hand to find yours. Intertwining your fingers, he takes a deep breath- his mind clearly elsewhere. You squeeze his hand to acknowledge this but, the two of you don’t comment on it.  

There is no need.  

With the tightening of your grip, so much has already been said.  

Less than a half hour later, the two of you are once again seated in the back of the cab.  

“It’s probably going to rain a lot while we’re here.” Yoongi explains, his voice low and slow, “This is Daegu’s rainy season. I’ve been checking the weather periodically and it looks like there might be a storm coming but, it doesn’t look too severe.”

You look at the window after his comment, noticing that the sky is overflowing with heavy clouds, swollen and gray with the promise of rain.  

“We’re approaching monsoon season, we call it uh- jangma.” He tells you and his explanation makes you smile.  

Despite the circumstances, you’re very honored and excited to be in Yoongi’s hometown. You know the memories he associates with this place are complex but, there is a shift in his tone now and, he sounds eager to teach you about this place: the place he called home for so long.  

And you’d gladly listen for hours.

“Jangma-” You repeat, trying to get the pronunciation right, causing him to refocus his attention back on you. He smiles softly and nods,

“Good job.”  

Your heart skips a beat at his approval as you return his smile, “Is there gonna be thunder?”  

Yoongi chuckles, “Do you want there to be thunder?”

You nod eagerly, “I love storms. When I was little, I would just sit at the window and watch them go by. I’m pretty sure our neighbors thought I was crazy. But I don’t know- I've always had a thing for bad weather...”

He smirks, glancing out the window and then back at you, “That explains a lot.”

Giggling, you cock your head, “What do you mean?”

Yoongi gestures to himself, his now playful gaze looking at you expectantly. You laugh at his insinuation,

“I see the resemblance.” You concede, gently patting his cheek, “You’re not nearly as gloomy as you think you are though.”

“To you-” He retorts, “You always forget that...”

“Pleaaaase.” You disagree, “You’re soft for other people too, don’t lie. I’ve seen the way you deal with Namjoon and Hobi...”

He shakes his head, “Yeah but things are still different with you, I don’t think you realize that.”

You nudge yourself underneath his arm once more, cuddling up with him as best as you can in the back of a cab.

“I know you’re especially-” You emphasize the word, “soft for me. I’m just saying that you come across more approachable than you think you do.”

Yoongi smirks to himself, seemingly understanding something that you don’t.  

“Soft is an understatement.” He retorts, turning to kiss the top of your head.

“Whateverrrr.” You tease him, your eyes trailing down to focus on his hands, “I’m still right.”

He chuckles, his figure shaking lightly beneath you, “You usually are.”

The cab pulls off of the highway, and it’s then that you begin to notice the way the scenery around you shifts from a middle class/ metropolitan vibe to something much much...fancier.  

Through the winding streets, the cab begins taking the two of you up a pretty steep hill before turning onto a street full of ridiculously nice houses.  

White marble, giant glass windows, and driveways filled to the brim with luxury vehicles zip by as the car turns down another street. Similar in theme but greater in size, the new street had much larger houses on more sizeable plots of land- likely designed to give the owners privacy amongst their neighbors.  

You can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you then and, you know very well that he’s observing your reaction.

He knows that even though he told you his brother was wealthy that, that phrase alone wouldn’t be enough to properly convey what that entailed.  

“This neighborhood is really beautiful,” You observe softly, eyes still glued to the window, “The architecture is so different than anything I’ve ever seen.”

And of course, this makes Yoongi smile.  

Because of course, you aren’t making a fuss about the degree of luxury before you. You’re finding the beauty in what otherwise is a very stressful situation.  

Finally, the cab pulls into a driveway right behind a black Tesla before putting the car in park.  

He and Yoongi exchange a few words in Korean as Yoongi hands him a small wad of money.  

“Thank you.” You murmur to the cab driver with a slight bow of your head to which he responds with a tight smile and a similar bow.  

You and Yoongi unload your bags from the trunk and as he is reaching for your hand, the front door of the house swings open.  

A man a few inches taller than Yoongi steps out. His black hair is neatly arranged in a middle part and he’s dressed in a beige turtleneck and white slacks. As he comes closer, the resemblance between the two of them is staggering.  

“Hello!” He calls with a warm smile, his voice bright, “Welcome! Come on in, the rain is supposed to pick back up soon.”

His expression only glows as he spots his younger brother. He looks excited to see him but, his movements are apprehensive.  

The unspoken tension is already present and, you can feel Yoongi almost freeze up as he draws near. Subtly, you coax him along offering his brother a warm smile as the two of you approach the landing just in front of his door.  

Normally, you don’t get nervous when meeting new people but, this situation is laced with so much complexity- you aren’t sure how to act.

Thankfully Yoongi finally speaks, “Good to see you hyung. Thank you for having us on such short notice.” His tone is almost unrecognizable as he gestures to you, “This is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N-” He gestures back to his brother, “This is my older brother Geum-jae hyung.”

Bowing your head slightly, you smile once more, “It’s very nice to meet you, thank you for having me.”

Geum-jae nods, eyeing you softly as his lips press into a tight line, “It’s so nice to meet you Y/N. I promise you, the pleasure is all mine.”

Yoongi motions for you to step in front of him so, you follow his lead and trail behind his brother through the doorway.  

Geum-jae's home resembles a marble statue. It’s clean, beautiful and, elegant- but lifeless. Geum-jae has artwork of various styles all over his walls, crisp white couches, sleek granite countertops and, stainless-steel appliances however, there is not one bit of evidence that anyone even lives here. The house feels empty despite the amount of effort put into its appearance.  

It makes you sad.  

“You have a beautiful home.”  

Your voice echoes off the dead weight of the walls, the paintings themselves seeming to arch a brow at your comment. Geum-jae however, smiles and nods graciously,

“Thank you. I just moved in not too long ago so, there is a lot I want to do. I definitely could have used this one’s expertise-” He nods to Yoongi, “He was always really good at that kind of stuff...”

Your boyfriend smirks, his eyes taking in his surroundings but failing to really focus on anything; he was too wound up, “You could have. I would have charged you though...”

Geum-jae chuckles and you see him glance at Yoongi fondly for a split second before he quickly reverts to his casual demeanor.  

“I put you guys on the second floor facing the skyline-” He gestures to the ivory staircase, “I’m sure you want some time to freshen up and relax so, please take all the time you need. I’m having BBQ brought over tonight but, if you’re hungry- feel free to help yourself to whatever is in the kitchen.”

Yoongi allows you to step in front of him whilst taking the suitcase from your hands. The two men follow behind you as Geum-jae continues laying out the plans for the evening,  

“I have a few virtual meetings to attend that I wasn’t able to move around but, I will be free as of 7 this evening. Until then, please make yourselves at home. I am really-” He seems to take a deep breath for emphasis, “really happy to have you here.”

“Thank you hyung.” Yoongi smiles slightly once the three of you reach the outside of the guest room, “Good luck with your meetings. Let me know if you need help with dinner.”

Geum-jae responds with a tight nod, “Will do. I’ll be in my office so, feel free to explore.” As he pushes open the door for you, he allows his own pained expression to meet yours, “I’m honored to meet you Y/N. Thank you for coming all this way with my brother.”

“Well-” You squeeze Yoongi’s hand gently, “He’s lucky I like him so much...”

Cheeks flushed, Yoongi rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but his lips are practically puckered against the smile he’s trying to stifle.  

“That’s fair.” Geum-jae chuckles, “Let me know if you two need anything. I’ll just be downstairs...”

With that, Yoongi pushes open the door and allows you to step inside before following behind you.

“Wow.” You whisper to yourself as you take in the scene before you.

The walls are painted a soft gray and surrounding only three sides of the bedroom. The fourth wall is made entirely of glass and given that the house rests upon a hill, you’re able to make out the skyline of the inner city. A giant four poster bed sits in the middle of the room, covered completely in a white duvet and three rows of pillows. Dark gray curtains sit on either side of the massive window as various muted colors accent the room in the form of a dresser, two nightstands and, a set of couches at the end of the bed.  

Yoongi is silent behind you as he sets the bags down at the entrance of the room. He pushes the door shut and allows his eyes to move over the space for a moment.  

It's nice, he thinks, but he can’t find himself to be very impressed.  

He knows where this money comes from and, even though his brother is out of the crime sector now, it still feels strange to acknowledge his wealth.  

Noticing his silence, you turn towards him, eyes tracing over the features of his face to assess his mood.

With a slight and subconscious pout, he looks at you, his body seemingly full of a breath he wants to take.  

“Do you want to lay down for a bit? I know you didn’t sleep on the plane.”  

At your offer, he seems to deflate slightly, lips turning up at the corners, “I think I want to shower first...”

Immediately, you nod with an encouraging smile, “Yeah go shower babe, I’ll just-”

He interrupts you, sticking his hand out and flexing his fingers in a grabbing motion, “Come with me.”

His offer makes you giggle, “You want me to shower with you?”

Yoongi closes the distance between you, using his grabby hands to lock onto your hips, “No, I meant like come with me as in come watch me...yes I want you to shower with me.”

Your laughter heightens as you pinch his side, causing him to recoil before chuckling.

“You’re such a punk today...” You scold.

Yoongi simply chuckles warmly as he kisses the side of your head, the tone of his voice lowering significantly, “That usually means something to you doesn’t it?”

It does.  

It usually means he’s having trouble vocalizing his needs and, he’s in need of attention. And the type of attention is usually a specific brand.  

And it usually comes with a little bit of pain.  

However, you don’t think it’s a good idea to indulge that side of Yoongi’s desires at the moment because, his emotions aren’t fully organized. You know the talk with his brother is causing him a lot of stress and, as much as you liked to wreck his body right now- you know it’s best to wait until later.  

That doesn’t mean you can’t take care of him though...

“Come on-” You urge him, grabbing his hand and practically running towards the bathroom, “Let's get you clean, king.”

He laughs, stumbling into the bathroom which is just as nice and similarly colored as the room.

“I’m a king now?”

His question goes over your head as you notice the ridiculously oversized bathtub in the center of the room. Biting your lip, you turn towards him and point at it.

“Do you want to take a bath instead? The shower looks amazing and all but- this thing literally looks like a jacuzzi.”

Yoongi eyes it curiously, his teeth finding his bottom lip, looking a little apprehensive, “How would you want to sit in it though? I kinda uh- I kinda thought maybe we could stand under the water for a bit together, like last time...”

He wants you to hold him.

He’s not going to say it but, he needs it.  

Like really bad.

You can see his nerves creeping into his posture so, you decide to act quickly before he somehow convinces himself that he’s being too needy.  

Looking around the room, you spot a few things that could aid in his relaxation: candles, bubble bath, a neatly folded pile of fluffy gray towels...

“I’ll show you.” You assure him, “Close your eyes really quick- no peeking. I have a plan...”

Yoongi looks at you, suspicious all over his face, “I’m scared.”

Giggling, you raise your brows for emphasize, “Oh you should be-”

He can’t help but smirk at your tone despite the anticipation swimming in his gut. He trusts you though so, instead of arguing- he shuts his eyes.  

Shuffling around the bathroom, you set things up in record time, turning the water on, pouring the rose scented bubble bath beneath the stream, and lighting a few candles along the ivory counter. Yoongi maintains his smirk the entire time, folding his arms across his chest, stifling his desire to make a snarky comment.  

“Alright,” You sigh, dusting your hands off, “Ta daaaaa.”

Yoongi opens his eyes, blinking a few times before taking in the scene in front of him. It changes his smirk into a grin really quickly as his cat-like eyes flit over to you.

“Are you planning on sacrificing me?” He quips, nodding to the candles.

Snorting, you roll your eyes, “If you keep talking shit, I just might-” You threaten, laughter forming on the tail end of your sentence, “Get naked...”

Yoongi snickers, his face full of satisfaction as his finger tuck beneath his hoodie to tug it over his head. The two of you undress in a small bout of silence and attempt to sneak glances at one another’s naked form.  

“I’m going to get in first and then you’re going to sit in front of me, between my legs...” You explain, trying not to shiver as the cool air of the bathroom begins to grow uncomfortable.

His brows raise, “Between your legs?” He confirms, “Say no more...”

Once again, your eyes are rolling but this time, there is a smile on your lips as you move to take your spot beneath the warmth of the water. Yoongi has to take a deep breath as he watches you, his emotions brewing dangerously beneath the surface at the sight of the woman he loves.  

He still doesn’t fully understand it.  

He is still meet with endless confusion when he starts to think about why you’ve chosen to be with him but, he knows better now than to question it.  

You have your reasons, he thinks, and he has a million of his own.  

Looking up from beneath the mountain of bubbles, you pat the top of them, looking at him expectantly, “Come here.”

He grabs the hand that you extend towards him, balancing himself on it whilst he steps into the tub. Modestly, he turns his body away from you for a second so he’s able to bend down before pivoting beneath the water and settling against your chest. The bathtub is big enough for the water to go past his shoulders and, he feels his entire body relax once he feels your body against his.  

“Comfy?” You check, draping your arms across his chest.  

Yoongi nods, his head leaning back and resting against your left shoulder. Once it lands there, you turn and kiss his temple which then prompts one of his hands to reach up rest on yours. Silently, you place a few more kisses against his hairline, allowing him to decompress however he wants to, not wanting to pressure him into talking about anything.  

And he doesn’t, at least not for a while.  

The only sounds between the two of you are the dribbling of water from the faucet and the low whisper of breathing. Every so often, you kiss his temple, just so he knows that he isn’t alone.

“Seeing my brother is really difficult.” He mumbles, eyes still closed, hand still on top of yours, “Even just seeing his face- it brings back a lot of memories.”

You nod, “I can imagine- especially since it’s been so long.”

Yoongi sighs, his eyes fluttering open and honing in on the ceiling, “I haven’t seen him since I was 18. He came to Sejin’s place just before I moved in with Namjoon. He tried to talk to me to let me know that he was leaving the business but, I barely said anything. I was too angry at him.”

Using your free hand, you rub softly at his chest under the water, silently encouraging him to continue.  

“He never helped me when my father would-” He takes a deep breath through his nose, his throat bobbing as he swallows on the exhale, “the time I told you about, when my father hit me...that wasn’t the only time. It happened often towards the end.”

Your eyes shut momentarily, the pain of Yoongi being harmed stinging your heart like a shot.  

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper, kissing his temple again.

Yoongi’s face turns slightly into your lips, his hand squeezing over yours, “Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I held onto my disappointment in him for a while until I realized something: the only reason my father every laid his hands on me and not Geum-jae hyung was because, I stood up to him.”

“Geum-jae hyung never did and, I think he still carries that regret to this day. I can see it all over his face...” His voice is so low now that it barely makes it above a whisper, his eyes seemingly elsewhere. “Is it wrong that I feel like- like I didn’t just come here to save Sejin’s studio?”

You shake your head, “Not at all...”

He swallows again and takes another deep breath through his nose, “It’s hard you know- during winter break especially; everyone would leave campus and go home for the holidays...and I never knew where to go. For the first two years at school, I spent Christmas alone until Namjoon’s mom finally called me and told me that if I didn’t come back with him, that she was going to make him sleep outside.” He chuckles, smirking slightly at the memory.

Your heart fills with despair then. You didn’t piece it together that Yoongi would have stayed behind during the holiday season. There was so much to unpack from the tragedy that he’s endured; it didn’t even cross your mind.  

“Namjoon’s mom was right to threaten you-” You affirm but then you shake your head, “I don’t think there could be a wrong reason to come here. You deserve to have whatever kind of closure or healing that you need.”  

“I wish I knew what I needed...” He admits, licking his lips before turning towards you, his brown eyes holding all the emotions he can’t vocalize, “I wish everything was as easy as this.”

Following suit, you turn your head so that you’re facing him, “So do I. But I’ll always be here through all the not-so-easy stuff.”

Yoongi smiles then, soft and sweet, delivering a kiss to match. He relaxes into you, brushing his tongue along the inside of your lip just for a moment before pulling away.

“I love you Y/N.”  

“I love you too Yoongi.”  

Eventually, you both got out of the bathtub and into the shower so, that you were able to get clean properly. After a few hours of catching up on missed calls/texts and relaxing, Yoongi gets a text from his brother saying that dinner would be ready in 15 minutes.  

Geum-jae had the finest BBQ in the city delivered and prepared right in his dining room. Banchan lined the center of the table, slabs of meat were grilled one right after the other until the three of you tapped out.  

It passed easier than you thought it would. Yoongi and Geum-jae relaxed in the face of a meal, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them as if no time had passed. It was a touching sight to see and, you hoped that it meant their discussion would come out easier.  

You take your leave after you help clean up, thanking Geum-jae for the incredible food and, letting Yoongi know that you’d be up in the room checking on something for school if he needed anything.  

Which was a total lie but, you needed an excuse to leave them alone for a bit.  

Yoongi feels his heartbeat pick up a bit as he watches you leave the room, the realization of what was coming finally hitting him.  

“Hyung-” He wants to rip the band aid off. “Is it alright if we talk for a moment?”

Geum-jae raises his brows at the switch in languages and nods immediately, gesturing to the table, “Of course. Can we sit here? Or would you rather talk in the living room?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “Here is fine.” He sits back down in his original seat and, rubs his palms against his jeans.

Geum-jae takes a seat across from him, gazing expectantly at his younger brother, “What did you want to talk about?”

Despite Yoongi’s anxiety, he understands that being to the point would be the most effective way to communicate. He wasn’t sure if any past issues would come up but, right now his concern was on Sejin.  

“I know that I told you I needed your help with something but-” Yoongi begins, “It isn’t me who needs your help exactly...it’s Sejin.”

Geum-jae purses his lips, his hands coming out to clasp rest on the table, “Is he alright?”

“The landlord for the studio he runs is increasing his rent again and, he doesn’t have the money to keep it open...” Yoongi’s explanation gets a little rushed as he gets more and more nervous, “I have some money in savings to help out with rent for the next few months but, it’s not enough to keep it open long term and-”

Geum-jae cuts him off, “Tell Sejin to call me. I will send a team to his location to sort everything out. It wouldn’t be a bad building to purchase but if Sejin is willing- then maybe he can look at other properties and I’ll have the money wired over to him.”

Yoongi can’t hide the shock on his face, “Wait- are you serious?”

“Of course. Sejin is one of my dearest friends. I owe him a lot for what he’s done over the years.”

In this moment, regret washes over Geum-jae's face, his eyes reaching out to Yoongi’s in hopes that he understands what he’s alluding to.  

And obviously, he does.  

“Why didn’t you just call me?” Geum-jae continues, tilting his head to get a better look at Yoongi’s expression, trying to read him, “I’ve always told you that if you ever needed anything-”

“I haven’t talked to you in 8 years hyung, I wasn’t just going to call and ask you for a favor.”  

Geum-jae nods, his face tightening with solemnity, “I understand.” A brief moment of silence passes between the two of them before a sigh comes from Geum-jae, “There is so much I want to say to you Yoongi, I don’t even know where to begin...”

Yoongi stays quiet.  

He doesn’t know either.  

He just knows that the only way to get rid of the heaviness in his chest is to talk about it.  

“I suppose I could start with an apology.” Geum-jae concludes, shaking his head as a light scoff leaves his lips, “I could never find the words to express how much regret and shame I feel inside. I could never explain how sorry I am for not protecting you, for not being a better example, for not having a backbone, for being selfish...I was blinded by greed. I couldn’t see what was in front of me.”

Yoongi swallows back his emotion, dreading the way his eyes begin to sting.  

Geum-jae continues, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I just want to apologize and tell you that, even though I played no part in the man you’ve become, I am incredibly honored to call you my brother.”

It isn’t easy but, Yoongi manages to contain the tears that desperately want to fall from his eyes. His chest tightens as he hears his brother’s words. He wades through all the bitterness he feels towards him, allowing himself to feel the full force of his approval.  

“I forgave you a long time ago.” Yoongi swallows, avoiding direct eye contact with him, “I just wish I understood your actions. You were my hyung, I thought you would have protected me and-” Yoongi blinks away the tears as quickly as he can, “and I still haven’t been able to accept the fact that you didn’t...”

Geum-jae shakes his head, “I wanted to protect you. I just didn’t know how- I was scared of him too. You had more courage than I did. It doesn’t excuse my actions but, it’s the truth.”

Suddenly, he reaches out and places his hand overtop of Yoongi’s, a pleading expression on his face, “That’s why you got out. That’s why you have a life. You have friends, you’re about to graduate university and, you have Y/N...” Geum-jae's voice breaks at the end, “Because of your strength, you finally found happiness.”

Yoongi looks at his hand, observing the evidence of his life present on his skin. Scars, burns, callouses, needle marks...

“Are you saying that you haven’t?” He asks, still not meeting his brother’s eyes.

“I’m not even close.”

Finally, the two meet each other's gaze. For a moment, they just stare, glistening eyes to glistening eyes. Overcome with years of repressed emotions, fueled by the desperate need to try and break the cycle, they wordlessly convey an unspoken emptiness.  

They have missed each other so much.  

“I am here now.” Geum-jae promises, the first tear dangerously close to falling, “Hyung is here if you’ll have him. I want to be in your life but, I understand if you want nothing to do with me.”

Yoongi blinks now, and the tears land upon his cheeks, “You’re my hyung...” And it really is a desperate proclamation, “...you’ll always be my hyung...”

The chair screeches against the tile, causing Yoongi to jump in his seat until he realizes what his brother is doing. Rounding the table, stands to the side of Yoongi with open arms and his own tears atop his cheeks.

He eyes him for only a few seconds before standing up suddenly and accepting Geum-jae into his arms. The two of them seem to collapse against one another. Yoongi breaks down and sobs in the arms of his older brother.  

Just as he would have when they were young.

When times were hard and he could take shelter behind the one person who made him feel safe, the first person who ever showed him love.  

“I’m so sorry Yoongi-ah.”  

His words cause Yoongi to squeeze his eyes shut as he nods against the expensive fabric of his brother’s dress shirt, “I know.” He sniffles and pats his back, “I know you are.”

Meanwhile...

You’ve been upstairs, straightening up the bedroom and trying to pass the time without worrying excessively about your boyfriend’s well-being.  

Which turns out to be impossible...

Cleaning around the room/bathroom only takes you about 20 minutes before your flopping onto the massive bed and, pulling out your phone. Scrolling through Tik Tok, you hope for a substantial distraction and, lucky for you- one arrives.  

But, it isn’t on Tik Tok...

Jungkook: So you know Jimin right...  

The text from Jungkook confuses you as you’re pretty sure it's like the middle of the night back home and, it’s not like him to text you outside of the group chat.

You: I have heard of him yes

You: Isn’t he like your boyfriend or something?

Jungkook: ha ha

Jungkook: about that

Jungkook: what if he wasn’t my boyfriend anymore?

Your eyes widen and, you immediately sit up in bed and hover anxiously over your phone.

You: !!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN

Jungkook: shhhhhh don’t yell

Jungkook: my future fiance is sleeping...

You’re about ready to get on a flight back home to kick his ass before your vision focuses on the word he’s just sent.

You: excuse me  

You: YOU’RE WHAT ???????????

Jungkook: …

Jungkook: What did I just tell you smh

You: *whispers* WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT JUNGKOOK

Jungkook: -____-

Jungkook: can I call  

You: ?????? Obviously!!!!

Seconds later, Jungkook’s name illuminates your screen.

“Good evening,” He begins calmly, “I’m having a panic attack...”

You giggle, “What’s going on????”

“Well you see- I am in love with Park Jimin and I fear it may be terminal.”

“Terminal huh? Is that how you describe a lifelong partnership with your one true love?”

“...yes.”

“Jungkook,” You urge him through your laughter, “What is going on?”

You hear him sigh, “I think I’m going to ask Jimin to marry me.”

Squealing, you jump up on your knees, “Wait seriously?! Jungkook!”

“Yah! Don’t yell at me! This is all your fault!”  

“My fault??? How is this my fault?”

“Well technically I guess- it's Yoongi’s fault because, he’s the one that convinced me to get in touch with my feelings or whatever- either way, I am STILL the victim. And now I want to be with him forever and it’s disgusting...”

You flop back against the pillows and laugh again, “If Jimin knew this was how you were telling people you were proposing, he would kill you.”

He doesn’t hesitate, “He’s going to kill me either way Y/N...it’s bad- the other day, he sent me a selfie and, I had heart palpitations for like 15 minutes.”

“If your man doesn’t give you heart palpitations then, that isn’t your man.” You conclude.

“Y/N...” Jungkook whines now, sounding very much like the boy you met back in middle school.

“Jungkook...” You whine back causing him to finally chuckle on the other end of the line.

“I’m scared...”

“I know but, you and Jimin are so perfect for each other, there is no way that this wouldn’t work out.”

“More perfect than you and Yoongi?” He teases, reverting back to being a little shit.

And his question makes you scoff, “Oh sweetheart- obviously not. But second place isn’t bad!”

He laughs now and it’s the full bellied sound that you love hearing.  

“You really think we’re perfect together?”

Despite his inability to see you, you smile at his need for validation,

“Duh. You two are literally soulmates.”

Jungkook is quiet on the other line but when he speaks again, you can hear the giddiness in his voice, “Ok so...will you help me then???”

Back downstairs, Yoongi and Geum-jae are sat at the bar in front of the window that faces his backyard. As he predicted, the rain came back in full force and is now propelling itself against the clean glass. After their emotional encounter in the dining room, Geum-jae suggested that they have a drink together and relax for a moment.  

He had poured each of them a glass of wine, ensuring not to fill his glass up too much.  

“Your girlfriend is a wonderful woman; you made a good choice.”

At the mention of you, Yoongi’s lips twitch, his eyes watching the droplets of water chaotically race down the window, “Thank you. But, it was her who chose me, I’m still working out exactly why.”  

Geum-jae chuckles, “I see you’re still selling yourself short ah? Did you two meet at school?”

Yoongi smirks, “Yeah, we met 6 months ago in my psychology class. She was my partner on our final project.”

“Ah.” He nods, “Things blossomed that way then?”

Yoongi’s heart throbs a bit as his brain begins its recollection of his time with you.  

So much has happened during your relationship, he forgets that he hasn’t known you all his life.

It certainly feels like he has.  

“Yeah.”

Geum-jae chuckles, “You’re so reserved about her.”

Yoongi knows what he means. In the Min family, you always say things as they are. You don’t sugarcoat your sentiments and you definitely don’t play coy.  

“I can’t help it-” He admits, and he can feel the heat on his cheeks now, “I find it difficult to talk about her...”

His brother bites his bottom lip, unable to help how endeared he is, “Can I ask why?”

Yoongi leans his cheek against the palm of his hand, still focusing on the rain, “It’s overwhelming.”

Geum-jae seems to understand but he chuckles anyway, “Do you plan on marrying her?”

His question hangs in the air for a moment. Yoongi’s brain once again travels elsewhere, and he is bombarded with images of you walking down the aisle. He has to take a deep breath as he forces the thoughts out of his head; he’s cried enough this evening.

“I would marry her tomorrow.”  

Geum-jae's laughter increases now but now it bubbles over his lips in an excited fashion.

“Yahhhh! Look at that eh?” He congratulates him, “It’s safe to say you’re off the market for good then? Because I have a few of my friends who have been asking about you.”

This finally makes Yoongi laugh as he turns towards him, “That’s flattering.” He means it too but, he speaks the next set of words with all of the conviction he can muster, “There is no one else for me though.”  

Geum-jae grins proudly and with a raise to his brows, he lifts his glass, “Well, let’s drink to that then.”

The clinking of crystal signifies so much. For now though, Yoongi allows it to represent the future and, all of the possibilities it may bring.  

[wordsnwhiskey]

Is It Living If You've Left Your Life Behind?

Pairing: Dave York & GN!Reader

Summary: Thanks to you, Dave escaped the showdown with McCall. You planned to take him to a safehouse on the other side of the country where he could recover and get started on living a new life. In order to do that though, he has to leave his wife, his daughters and his life behind. He can't help but wonder, is it really living if he has to leave his life behind?

Rating: T for Language I guess

A/N: This is my late submission for @autumnleaves1991-blog 's Writer Wednesday. I got into my feels tonight and Dave was calling to me. It's my first time writing for him and this is a different take on Dave than I'd normally go for. A softer/angstier Dave but honestly, given this situation where he survives? I don't see classic Dave shining through, at least not until something kicks his ass into gear. The man is injured and more than a little lost. Also, I'll probably edit this later, it's 03:30 and apparently I have a knack for posting things when I should be asleep.

Masterlist | AO3

There was nothing but the open road ahead of him as he sat in the passenger seat, a permanent grimace affixed to his face. His pain ebbed and flowed but at least that meant he was alive. Alive with nothing but the open road ahead of him and his entire life behind him.

Dave really only had you to thank for that. A life debt for a life debt even if it meant he no longer had his life, not really at least. His girls were well over a thousand miles behind him, everything he’d known and loved, he’d likely never see again. You were the only thing Mac hadn’t counted on and even though Dave had lost religion a long time ago, he thanked whatever god or higher power out there that you had kept your head about you during the showdown.

He had been furious at first that you hadn’t tried to kill McCall, only stalled long enough to get him and yourself out of there under the cover of the storm. His anger had quickly dissipated though, you had made the right call, of course. He still had trouble seeing out of his eye, a concussion from being blown off of his feet and plenty of bruises complemented the odd cut or two Mac had managed to land. Things would have been a lot worse had you not intervened.

You glanced over at Dave, hunched over, curling himself into the passenger window. Dave fucking York. He had really gotten himself in it this time but you couldn’t find it in yourself to blame him. In this industry, shit decisions had to be made all the time and Lady Luck was rarely ever kind. People died, that was the business. What else was the married father of two supposed to do when he was cut loose? Assimilate? That kind of thing wasn’t for people like you or Dave York, not really. McCall was too high up on his high horse to get enough oxygen to his brain and too blinded by his own grief to see it.

Then again, you were definitely biased.

“How’s your pain level?”

You asked, and were met with a withering glare, his newly-crooked, hawkish nose only served to further accentuate the harshness in his eyes.

He hadn’t talked much during the already several day trip. Not that you needed the conversation, but you understood better than anyone he knew who was still alive aside from the man you were fleeing from, what this felt like. You hated how people romanticized it, leaving everything behind and starting over. It never worked that way. Your family and friends lived and died and you couldn’t be part of any of it. And now Dave, Dave had two daughters and a wife but they might as well be poison now. Poison to his mind, torture to think about. Poison to the touch if he ever went to see them again, because surely McCall would be watching them from afar, waiting.

The same thoughts seemed to be on his mind, from the corner of your eye you could see him slump further into the window, clutching a small photograph he had pulled from his wallet. For all that he was, former agent, mercenary, murderer, assassin, he was still a family man, a soft man at heart and going into hiding away from this family had just as much likelihood of killing him as McCall did.

“I’m not going to see them again am I?” Dave murmured as he stared down at the photo, thumb grazing over his daughters’ faces.

You opened your mouth then closed it again, contemplating giving him platitudes or the truth. He chuckled at your reaction, a hollow sound devoid of any humor.

“Spare me the bullshit.”

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened and you let out a sigh.

“I don’t know Dave. If McCall winds up dead then yeah, that’s an option. I haven’t been back to see my family but I don’t have the same… things anchoring me somewhere or drawing me back.”

Silently, he turned to resume watching the passing orange and brown landscape fly by.

It had been about another two hours since he last spoke and he had been so still and quiet, you thought he might have fallen asleep.

“Why’d you do it? Why are you doing this?”

His voice is gruffer, made thicker from the knot of emotion in his throat. It startles you out of your own reverie.

“Do what?”

“Why did you bother saving me? You could have made it out of there and been in another country by now. Fuck, you could have dumped me at a hospital anywhere along this godforsaken road and still be in another country by now.”

You frowned, somehow you had hoped his relative silence meant you would be able to get through this journey without delving into any sort of feelings.

“It crossed my mind, on both counts.”

He raised an eyebrow, not so much in surprise that you had thought about it, more so that you hadn’t gone through with it.

“I didn’t have any part in Susan’s death so McCall would have stopped hunting me eventually.”

You spared him a glance, he was staring at you intently, analyzing.

“Is this the part where you tell me you love me?”

You scoffed and looked at him incredulously then shook your head.

“No, it’s even more pathetic than that, Dave. You’re probably the closest thing to a friend I have and we’ve tried to kill each other before.”

That got a small laugh out of him, because really, what was more ridiculous in their line of work than friends?

Probably having a family. Dave grimaced as the thought echoed in his mind.

“We were the best at what we did.”

He said, with an air of nostalgia and you nodded in agreement.

“And the worst, somehow even with us each taking on contracts for the other, here we are, still living.”

The small smile faded from your lips at his silence and lack of a response. Your gaze fell on him again as he shrugged his mouth and sighed.

“Are we? Is it living if I’m leaving my life behind?”

This was not the Dave York you knew. Occasionally, you had seen the wry humor, and suave exterior give way to the side of him that accepted “New Hamster” as an answer instead of “New Hampshire” but not even that remained. The Dave next to you had all of those layers peeled back. He was raw and unsure.

You didn’t answer him for a few minutes, honestly there wasn’t much of anything you could say that wasn’t a load of shit. You were both too practical for pep talks. Moreover, it wasn’t a question you had even stopped to ask yourself. The answer and the journey to that answer was a dangerous one.

“I- …. It’s the best option you’ve got right now, Dave. It’s a pretty fucked situation, my advice? Take it one hour a time and if you can manage that, take it one day at a time.”

“An hour?” Dave shook his head and rubbed his stubbled chin with his hand. “All I’ve seen for hours is dirt and sand. While Mac is probably watching Carol and the girls like a fucking hawk.”

You pursed your lips, and eyed the upcoming sign detailing the available lodging and food at the upcoming exit.

“Well you’ll have the inside of our next motel room to stare at in another hour.”

Dave slipped back into silence and you simultaneously welcomed and detested it. Things were simpler without him getting all philosophical on you and contemplating what made living actually living. It hardly mattered though because he had already gone and planted that damned seed inside your brain.

You pulled up to a not entirely shitty motel and paid for the night before going back for Dave who was waiting in the car. The room wasn’t terrible and after a thorough check, you could at least confirm there weren’t any critters who would be keeping you company. At least there were two beds.

After a dinner of pizza from the diner down the road you had taken Dave on a detour to the gas station to get a burner phone. In your haste to put as much distance as possible between you and McCall, you hadn’t bothered to get him one earlier. Once that was finished you both headed back to your room to unwind.

Dave sat in one of the rickety chairs at the small table that seemed to be actively trying to shed it’s veneer layer. With a sigh, he went to work stripping and reassembling his pistol. It was calming, relaxing for him. All of the pieces had a purpose, an order, to be pulled apart then reassembled, very much unlike his life right now. Nothing had purpose or order and everything had been pulled apart, leaving him broken shards to piece back together.

Hours passed and by the look of him, you figured Dave’s fingers might have gone numb from the repetitive movements and his eyes were drooping, well his good eye was drooping more than normal since the one McCall had nearly managed to gouge was still a little worse for wear.

“Dave, get some sleep. You’re no good to me or yourself if you’re half asleep.”

You know he’s been fighting sleep for a while now, he does every night just like he fights the pain you’re sure he’s feeling but refuses to take anything for. For the first time since you two set off, you’re not annoyed by it. He’ll sleep soundly at least once he let’s exhaustion take him. All the better for what you have planned.

It wasn’t until 01:00 that Dave was finally asleep soundly enough that you felt you could get up without waking him. Quietly, you made for the table, using the flimsy pad of paper and pen there to write a note before you walked out the door and shut it behind you. Thankfully, the city you had stopped in was populated enough that rideshare services were available and in less time than you had figured, you were on your way to the airport.

Dave woke up and immediately knew something was off. It was too quiet and there was too much sun trying to peek through the curtains for it to be the usual time you both headed out for the day. He sat up quickly and grabbed his pistol, then looked around the room for any signs of danger until his eyes fell upon the pad of paper on the table. A sharp pain arched through his skull when he stood up, a remnant of his concussion. He took the note in hand and began to read:

Dave,

I figure, if I’m lucky, I’ve got 4 hours on you. If I’m really lucky, I’ve got 6. Anything more than that and I’m disappointed in you, Dave.

He looked up from the note at the digital clock on the nightstand, it read 07:30. A wry grin threatens to take shape on his lips. You’d be disappointed.

I’m not going to make this some sort of sappy letter. I don’t have time for that shit. You were right. It isn’t really living if you’ve left your life behind. Out of the two of us, you’re the only one who really has one to miss. The only way you get to go back to Carol, Molly and Alice is if McCall is out of the picture, so I’m going to give it a shot. I left you enough cash to pay the room through the week and then some. If you don’t hear from me after a week, call the number at the bottom of this note and tell him you’re cashing in a favor for me. He’ll help you out. Might even know someone else who can help with your family. I left you the car, keys are on my bed.

Good Luck.

Dave’s throat went dry and then he saw at least four shades of red before he finally calmed down to assess the situation. Then all at once, it was like ice had been poured in his veins and things began to shift into focus.

What the fuck was he doing?

This entire time he had been wallowing, perhaps well earned, but he should have been planning. He had let his grief for the loss of Susan, the storm of emotions he felt seeing Mac still alive and a simple job that had spun drastically out of control, completely cloud his judgement. He was just as well trained as Mac, but he had let his anger and emotions get the best of him on that watchtower, he couldn’t let that happen again.

Dave moved quickly and methodically as he collected everything he needed from the room and headed out to the car. He really shouldn’t drive with his eye being what it was but he only needed to get to the airport and he could make it that far at least.

He couldn’t let Mac kill you, like Ari, Reznik, and Kovac. Family.

Like hell if he was going to let the closest person he had to a friend get killed.

If anyone was going to kill you, it’d be him, just for you trying to pull off something as stupid as this.

He knew this was the best move though, Mac wouldn't be expecting an attack this soon this time, the attack wouldn't be in the middle of gale force winds on Mac's home turf. You... and he would have the upper hand this time.

Dave got through the airport with relative ease thanks to him having TSA pre-check, no one bothered to ask him about his eye which he did his best to hide with a baseball cap.

He sat down and waited for his flight to be called. Mentally, he began going through the disassembly and reassembly of the rifle he had with him at the watchtower to help focus himself and pass the time.

The PA system broke his concentration and alerted him that it was time to board. Dave was tense when he finally got to his seat and sat down. His jaw was set in concentration as he started to come up with a new battleplan and weighing his options. Yes, he was injured but he'd been through worse on missions and come out on top.

At least one person was going to die by the end of the week and he'd be damned if you and him weren't the last ones standing.

Thanks for reading, tagging a few people interested/who might be interested:

@wheresarizona @pascalsimp @beesting77 @boxdyeblonde @lackofhonor @kaybrownies @agentwhiskeypussyindulgence @elegantduckturtle @janebby @faithkeeper-81 @doin-stuff @danniburgh @pascalslittlebrat @mothandpidgeon @mouthymandalorianalso @phoenixhalliwell @kesskirata @starlightmornings @wyn-dixie

[alovesongshewrote]

If you’re taking requests, maybe something about Doux finding the reader absolutely delirious from lack of sleep? I may or may not have gotten literally any sleep last night and although I managed to get through my morning routine pretty efficiently I FEEL my body just wiping out. I will be comatose within the hour.

Sleep, Darling | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot:  you’ve been awake for too long and it is not doing you any favours.  Thank god for punk wizards who care about your wellbeing, amirite lads?  (Also, the pure Irony that this is getting posted at like, 2:40 am where i am, rip me i guess)

Word Count: 2,292

Warnings:  A bit of blood is mentioned in passing, the reader isn’t human and probably has adhd or smthn.  Also, Friends is mentioned, like, the tv show, so that’s a thing!

A/N:   if you look closely, you can actually see me projecting onto this one.  I hope you got some sleep anon.

Tags:   @furblrwurblr @einahpetsyarcip @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05

Time isn’t real.  It’s a social construct made to bring order to the general chaos that is human existence.  That was why you were up at 5 a.m for the second, maybe third, night in a row.  Was it healthy?  Probably not, but you didn’t need sleep, you needed answers.  Answers to what?  Who knows at this point, honestly.

You couldn’t say you were surprised when you finally noticed the late, or early hour.  You just shrugged it off and went “fuck it, all-nighter,” which was fine for the moment.  But time’s a bitch, and that moment was over pretty fast.  By noon, you were ready to collapse.  The three cups of coffee did not help.  Instead, they made you vibrate at a frequency that could quite possibly break glass.  As much as this sucked for you, it was worse for your lovely friend and co-worker, Hisirdoux Casperan.

Now, our boi Douxie was and is madly in love with you, but shhh, it’s a secret.  You also love him, and that’s a secret too.  Neither of these secrets are well kept, and the only reason you aren’t together is general stupidity.  Literally, anyone else who watches the two of you interacting can tell that you're in love.  Hell, half the town assumes you’re together already.  The other half keeps trying to get you together.  It is not working very well.  But that’s all a digression.  What you really need to know is that Douxie loves you and watching you suffer from a lack of sleep was Not A Pleasant Experience.  You were delirious, shaky, and constantly off-balance.  You could work well enough, but it was clear that your health was not in the same zone.

The final straw came when you cut your hand on broken glass.  You’d dropped a cup, and instead of using magic, you’d tried to fix the mess by hand.  That plan did not work, and you received a bloody slash across your palm for your troubles.

“Ah.  Fuck,” you said, thinking you were whispering but instead speaking at a normal volume.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“‘S nothing, I’ve got it,” you did not got it, especially not in this state, and Douxie had the good sense to figure that out.  The blood was a pretty good hint though.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

“I told you, I’m toooootally fine, there is nothing to worry about.”

“Here, (Y/N), let me help you-”

“No, no, this is, this is-” it was then that your sleep-deprived brain decided to cut off your train of thought and replace it with another, more chaotic train.  You stopped talking and just stared at Douxie for a solid minute.  Or at least it felt like a solid minute.  Time isn’t real, remember that.

“(Y-Y/N)?  You alright there, darling?”

“You’re really cute, did you know that?  Like… really cute.  Steve was right, you could be a model.”

“I-”

“Also, just gonna put it out there, I freakin’ love it when you call me darling.  Like, I know you call most people darling, but it makes me feel special.  Don’t ask why, it just does.”

Douxie wasn’t planning on asking why.  He wasn’t really planning on anything.  Your sleep-deprived half-confession had turned him from a capable individual into a blushing mess in less than a second.  You always had that effect on him, but it looked like your exhausted state was giving you a bit of an edge.

“Oh, sorry, I made it weird.  Anyway, do you think if I brewed my next coffee with Monster instead of water it would wake me up?   Because I’m still tired, and it isn’t fun.”

“I- you- I’m-”

“I think I might try it, honestly.”

“Ok, how about you don’t do that,”  Archie said, swooping in, literally and figuratively, to save the day, “Douxie, can you please get (Y/N)’s hand patched up?  It looks quite painful and they’re dripping blood onto the carpet.”

You were, in fact, dripping blood onto the carpet.  That wasn’t good, “Oh, that’s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret, just go do something about that hand,” with that, Archie smacked Douxie upside the head in an attempt to snap him out of his flustered state.  It was super effective!

“Ahh, yeah.   C’mon, (Y/N), let’s,,, go,,, fix,,, that.”

“Ok,”  you stood, too tired to protest, and followed Douxie into the back of the bookstore, which was literally just his apartment.  

It was a nice place.  Very cozy, very him.  It made you want to curl up and take a nap, but to be fair, literally everything made you want to curl up and take a nap at the moment.  Regardless, his home made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside and you never wanted to leave it.  Maybe it was the interior decorating, but you knew it was because your favourite person lived there.  What you didn’t know, or didn’t realize, was that you’d just spoken your entire thought process out loud and Douxie heard every word of it.  Once again, the boy was a blushing mess.  If you were awake enough to process things, you would have found it cute.  Or you’d be dead from embarrassment, that one is a bit of a toss-up.

Fighting through his flustered state, Douxie pulled you into the bathroom and collected a first aid kit from under the counter.  While he focused on getting things done, you curled into a ball in his bathtub.  For some reason, your exhausted brain decided that sitting on the edge of the bathtub simply did not Vibe™ but sitting inside the tub was better than nothing, and so you just,,, curled up there.  Douxie was only a little surprised to see you there.

“(Y/N)?”

“D’you remember that time on Friends when Winona Ryder played a closeted lesbian?  That was a fuckin’ trip, man.”

“(Y/N), darling-”

“That whole episode is just- it’s just strange.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Hehe, Stranger Things.”

“(Y/N), love, I need to see your hand.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, I forgot.  Here,” you sat up, extending your hand out to the wizard.  He took it, sitting on the edge of the bathtub which was fine for him to do, I guess.  Not you though, you were stuck in bathtub jail for sleep deprivation crimes.

You squinted up at his face as he tended to the nasty scratch you’d given yourself.  You didn’t have the capacity to focus on what he was doing, so instead you focused on him.  He was pretty, as you’d said before, but that was always true.  At that exact moment, his brows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes concerned and his jaw set.  His hands were steadier than yours could ever hope to be, especially since you hadn’t been sleeping.  Overall, he looked kind of mad, so you sunk down into your bath-prison, silent and waiting for him to finish so you could get back to work.

Douxie was not mad at you.  He was upset that you hadn’t been sleeping, but he wasn’t mad.  He was just worried for your health.  Your wizard did not appreciate seeing you shaking and sleep-deprived.  He didn’t appreciate it when your current state led you to injure yourself, either.

He wrapped up your hand and gave it a small pat, “Done.  Now, come on, you’re taking a nap.”

His voice surprised you.  It was gentle, calm, not at all angry like you’d suspected.  You found yourself so lost in it that you didn’t realize what he’d said until he said your name, trying to snap you out of whatever haze you were in.

“Oh, wait, what?  No, shit, I have to get back to work-”

“No, you need sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak, I need to go-” you stood and almost fell over.  You probably would have broken something if Douxie didn’t catch you.  You hadn’t exactly expected to end up in his arms today, and despite the heat rising in your face and neck, you were not complaining.

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m sorry, Douxie, I-”

“You need to sleep.  Please, (Y/N), don’t make me use a spell on you.”

You froze for a second before a smirk crept onto your face, “You wouldn’t.”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t use a spell on meeeeee-” the smirk grew into a full smile as you let yourself go limp, forcing him to move his hands to support you better and pull you closer to him.  Was that your plan?  Maybe.  Was it part of a second, bigger plan?  Also yes.

“You wanna bet?”

“Sure.”

“I-” and then he went silent.  There was a moment of tension where you just stared into each other’s eyes, holding your breath to see what the other person would do.  Your gaze fell to his lips as his fell to yours.  For that moment, your thoughts began to wander far out of your control.  Douxie’s mind was also running rampant but in a different direction.  You were right, he thought.  He couldn't use magic on you.  As far as he knew, you were a human.  Just a mortal being who crawled their way into his life and stayed there, improving the quality of it greatly.  If there was even the slightest chance that a spell may have negative side effects, which most sleep spells did, he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially not on you.  He sighed, tightening his grip on your waist, “You’re right.”

“What?”  Oop, plan going sideways, PLAN GOING SIDEWAYS!

“I’m- not going to use magic on you,” he helped you to stand, and moved to take a step back before you grabbed his hoodie and pulled him back to you, ignoring the sharp sting in your hand.

“Ok, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, hang on there wizard boy-” you took a moment to pull yourself out of the bathtub entirely, “You can’t give up that easily.”

“Wha-”

“Come onnnnnn, make it fun, make it exciting.  Put a spell on me or whatever, just-” you went quiet for a second, but for once you weren’t distracted.  Just quiet.  You had to face facts.  Your plan had failed, and now you had nothing but the truth.

“(Y/N)?”

“Just make my brain stop.  For just two seconds.”

“What?”

“Please.  I’m running on a motor and I can’t stop myself.  I haven’t slept and I have no choice in the matter.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Look, just, take away my free-will if you have to.  Knock me out, magic or otherwise, I just want five seconds where I’m not on hyperdrive,” you were standing on your own now, though Douxie’s arms were still wrapped around you and you hadn’t let go of his hoodie, “Please.”

The bathroom was silent for a minute.  It took that long for Douxie to process what you’d just said.  You feared, for that moment, that you’d said too much.  You hadn't.  Not to him, anyway.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, picking you up, effortlessly sweeping you off your feet.

“Wait, what!?” your voice was slightly more frantic, surprise lacing through your words.

“There’s more than one way to get a person to sleep.”

“Oh-?”

He didn’t respond to your question, instead, he carried you out the door and into what you could only assume was his room.  You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him for dear life until he set you down on the bed.

“Stay here, okay?  I’m going to make you some tea-”

“Wait!” you stopped him, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my darling,” he sat in front of you on the bed, “You just need to get some sleep, okay?”

“But what about-”

“I’ll cover your shift, you don’t need to worry.”

“I-”

“Just rest, for now, love.  Please.”

“Ok,” your words were a whisper, something that Douxie could only just hear.  The next thing though, he didn’t have to strain to hear at all, “Yeah.  I meant what I said earlier, by the way.  You’re so pretty, it isn’t fair.”

He laughed at this, at you, finally seeing some humour in your shenanigans.  He relaxed now knowing that you may actually get some much-needed rest.  He stood, kissing your forehead and tracing the side of your face with a hand, rough from guitar strings and 900 years of sweeping.

“Worry not, love, you’re pretty too.”

“Hey, wait-”

“Don’t ‘hey, wait,’ me.  You are.  Now lie down, I’ll be back in a second.”

A smile crept onto your face as you followed orders.  Your emo wizard man thought you were pretty.  And he cared enough about you to let you sleep during work hours, in his home, no less.  You let yourself relax into the bed, grinning once again.  It smelled like him, like thyme and peppermint, lemongrass and sleep.  It was nice, comforting.  You could only vaguely think of Douxie as your brain finally took a fuckin breather.  It was everything you needed, honestly.

By the time Douxie came back, you were long gone, lost to your dreams and finally asleep.  He sighed a smile that matched yours on his face.  He placed the cup of tea on the bedside table before grabbing a blanket out of his closet and draping it over you.  You looked so peaceful.  Good.  You deserved some peace every now and then.

He took the cup and left you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes as he did.  After making his exit, he placed the still-hot tea on the counter, disregarding it for now before returning to the bookshop.

“How are they?”  his familiar asked, tail twisting in concern.

He gave a final fond look at the door before returning to business, “They’re just resting.”  And for once, you were.

[mashiraostail]

Can I get Present Mic, Vlad King, Midnight and Aizawa when their S/O wakes up with a bad migraine and is hiding their face because it's too bright? Please and Thank you!!!!!

me 🤝this anon       having terrible migraines 

Hizashi Yamada: A Sunday off for the pair of you was rare, and rather than spending the whole day out and busy you both elected to catch up on some much-needed sleep and various other chores around your apartment. After a much needed deep cleaning of your microwave (you seriously had never even considered looking at the ceiling of it...humiliating) you announce that you’re taking a midday nap, you could feel the annoying prickles of a migraine starting right behind your eyes, hopefully popping a few aspirins and taking an hour or two nap would nip it before it could really get started.  Hizashi nods you off but after about 15 minutes he joins you in bed and welcomes you into his chest as you roll over to him with a thankful groan. After that, you fall asleep fast enough. When you wake up again you realize instantly that you did not nip the migraine. Your skull felt like it’d shrunk 10 sizes in just an hour. Hizashi seemed to still be awake, even the gentle rustling of papers over your shoulder as he read them behind your back was enough to make the muscles in your forehead twitch. Your face was still buried in Hizashi’s chest so the offending light of your bedroom hadn’t fully reached your poor retinas yet.  “Babe?” You love your boyfriend's voice normally, but right now anything beside absolute silence was deafening, “sorry, did I wake you up?”  You just hum and lightly shake your head, hoping he’ll get the message and kindly, lovingly, please shut up.  He hums back and leans his lips down into your hair, kissing you absently, “Feel alright?” That prompts you to look up at him, all you’d wanted was a kiss, not the head-splitting pain that came with the slight movement of your neck paired with the light in the room. Before he can kiss you you’ve retreated back into the darkness of his shirt.  “My head.” You groan and he lets out a knowing sigh, “yeah I had a feeling.”  His voice is quiet, you were sure plenty of people wouldn’t even recognize it.  “Is it the light?” You nod. “Thought so...think you roll over and I’ll get up and shut them off. Plus get you another aspirin and some water? Maybe a compress, you can put your head on my lap and I’ll hold it for you.”   You groan again as you roll over and he can’t help but laugh a little, “no dying on our day off, come on, I’ll fix it in no time babe, just keep your eyes closed.”  Sekijiro Kan Being a teacher was honestly a lot of fun, he’d say it was his calling, but grading things was less of his calling, actually, he’d say it was the opposite of his calling, whatever that word would be. The Bane Of His Existance? Maybe. So when you round the corner to spot him on the couch he figures you’ll be a great distraction. Though you look more exhausted than usual. “Can I lay down here?” You point directly to him, specifically his chest. He sighs good-naturedly, “yeah, come on.” He readjusts himself to allow you in, your body slotting comfortably between his legs as it had so many times before. His arms come easily around you as you coil your own around his ribcage.  “Better?” He asks, resting his chin against your head.  “Much.” You know you should have done a little more in the ways of preparing for the headache you’d felt starting to throb at the base of your skull, but you prayed a little sleep would rectify it before it became an issue.  “Go to sleep if you want.” He reassures you, seeing your eyelids droop as you try to hold them open. “I can grade this stuff like this, it’s no big deal.”  “Thanks Seki..” You murmur, already starting to doze off.  When you wake again you know you’d sorely miscalculated. What was once a dull throbbing turned into a fully stabbing pain radiating through the base of your skull. Sekijiro still seemed to be awake, one hand snuck into the back of your top, running long strokes up your back and the other holding whatever papers he’d been working on before you accosted him with your need for rest.  You kept your eyes closed, you knew the light would only serve to make your head literally explode, unfortunately, the only con of the tank top he was wearing was the fact that it gave you little in the ways of excess fabric to hide your eyes in.  “Seki-” You croak it out and he hums, surprised,  “I didn’t even notice you were awake. I didn’t wake you up, did I? Sorry, I couldn’t help wanting to put my hand here-” The flat of his palm glides between your shoulder blades to emphasize his point. You just shake your head. “No, no you’re okay.” Even talking was unpleasant, “Can you pull my hood up?” “Oh?” he does as you ask, “don’t feel good?”  You just shake your head again as you recess into the hood of your sweatshirt.  “Let me get up for a minute, I bet you didn’t even take any aspirin before laying down” You groan in protest and he holds the back of your head, his hand separated from your hair by your hood. “You’ll barely notice I’m gone, and when I come back I’ll start helping you feel better, come on.”

 Nemuri Kayama: When she happens upon you passed out on the couch she takes it upon herself to join you, pulling you into her side and wrapping two arms around you, you just looked so comfortable she couldn't help it. You weren’t usually one to take midday naps so this was a pleasant surprise to happen upon. You’d only done it because the light was hitting your eyes all wrong, you curled up in the corner of the couch to rest them for a bit but ended up dozing off. You’d put some aspirin on by the lamp on the other side of the couch if you needed it but neglected to take it when you started feeling drowsy. As you started to wake up you really regretted that serious misstep.  Though Nemuri suddenly being with you wasn’t so bad.  “Oh, look who’s awake.” She perks up as you shuffle into her side a bit more.  “Uh-oh,” She laughs a little at the sound of your groan, “that’s not a good sound.”  “My head feels like it’s about to fall off and roll across the room.” You wrap both arms around her, “save me Muri I think I’m gonna die here.”  You feel her smile into your forehead as she kisses it, “I don’t know about dying. But I’ll get you the aspirin you put over there.” She nods down the couch, “and maybe some cold water?” Her hand massages the nape of your neck, “and I’ll shut the windows and curtains, nice and dark and quiet, just how you like.”  You warble at that, “don’t get up-”  “The sooner I get up the sooner I’ll come back.” She assures you, “and the sooner you’ll start feeling better. Come to think of it, when’s the last time you ate, I bet getting some food in you would help too wouldn’t it.” You just bemoan it, “I couldn’t eat anything with my head feeling like this.” You headbutt into her a bit and she hums, wrapping her far arm around you and patting your back, “maybe just a few crackers, for my own peace of mind, hm?”  She untangles your bodies and gets up, “just wait for me right here, eyes closed okay? I’ll shut everything first. Then I’ll get you everything else you need.”  Aizawa Shouta: He was lounging back on the couch, you were pretty sure he was asleep. The subtle twinge of pain between your eyes was more than enough to convince you to drop down on top of him. He huffs at the added weight.  “Okay, sure.” He says it indifferently as you press your nose into his neck his arms, once behind his head drop onto your back.  “Sorry to interrupt.” You apologize, mostly halfheartedly.  “Then go to sleep and be quiet so I can too.”  His tone of voice says mildly annoyed but the way he leans his cheek and face into your hair and slides his hands into the back of your shirt says decently pleased to have you.  When you come to again the subtle twinge had become a full 1000 volt shock. You could practically feel it tingling in the bones of your skull. Aizawa seemed to be awake now, you could feel his slightly rough palms rubbing out shapes on your back. “Did you get back to sleep, I didn’t mean to-”  “Yeah, I did.” He cuts you off, “I’d been asleep for a while before you showed up don’t worry about it.” You’d given yourself away with how quietly you spoke.  “Feel okay?” The way he picks his head up off of your’s says he wants you to look at up him, maybe make some eye contact, but your whole body is vehemently against this idea.  So you shake your head, “Migraine.”  “I see.” He nods, “think you can stand?” You just whine. “Well we should get you into bed, with some aspirin, something to drink, and away from all this light.” His hands slide comfortingly up your back, “don’t you think so?”  “Yeah..” You mutter, nudging further into his neck despite his words.  “So let’s get up.” He sits up and the sudden intrusion of light on your poor brain is enough to make you hiss.  “Sorry.” He covers your eyes with his hand, “let’s get you in bed first, I’ll keep the lights off in there for you, get you some aspirin and water.”  “I’ll be all by myself-” You lament and he sighs. “I’ll come to lay down with you too. I’ve got some stuff to grade but I’m sure I’ll find more time for it if I can’t get to it while I take care of you.” 

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S5 Ep 19: Yugi and the Only Neck Accessory He Didn’t Really Want to Wear

Been busy! Hopefully stuff will open up soon as I’m taking a hiatus on a different quarantine project and will be finishing painting the entire roof of my car this week? One can hope. Sanding the rust off the whole top of a car takes a long time it turns out?

Also, fun Yugioh fact, I recently painted a book cover for an author who is older so she’s never seen the show, and she looked at my tumblr, saw my Duke Devlin fanart and was like “That’s him. That’s my main character. OMG. You captured him perfectly!” and I was like “Ma’am that is Duke Devlin, hence the single dice earring on his lobes there, but we can work with this.” and now a spiritual Duke Devlin is on the cover of a Wuxia-style fantasy trilogy on the Vella. Had to give him a top knot and delete the eyeliner for Wuxia reasons but uh, that’s just Duke.

So long story short, fanart can get you work, don’t even worry about posting that stuff online because most people don’t even know it’s fanart anyway and older ladies freakin love it.

Back in Yugioh, the team was doing their best to navigate a map through the woods and they do about as well as they normally do.

And inside Tristan lifted up the floorboards and was like “I found the only way out, this is it, this is the only way.”

And they ended up in something that has a color scheme I would actually associate with a jungle. Finally. We have finally left California (in order to go to another Hell.)

Youknow, when we went to California, we visited Hell, and when we went to India, we also took a stop at the nearest death destination. There’s just so much death on this show and sometimes I forget because there’s been a ghost in our party for so freakin long it’s been normalized.

(read more death imagery under the cut)

Joey freaks out at a flock of crows and reveals in this episode something I never realized about him before.

Like I’m not always the perfect observer as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I love that this is canon for probably only this episode, but I will never forget it for the entirety of this series.

You go on hating birds, Joey.

Bro was like “Maybe it’s a deep cut about Mai Valentine because she’s a harpy lady” but eh...pretty sure we spent like an entire season of Joey telling us that Mai was a good experience? Would be incredibly funny if immediately after all of S4, Joey was like “You know what? Screw Mai, guys.”

So my thoughts...it’s probably just a literal bird experience. Like I had a friend who hated deer because once she went to a petting zoo, got some pellets to feed the deer, but her finger was sticking up, so when the deer came over to nibble on some pellets her finger went up it’s nose by accident. She was so disgusted by this event that was entirely her fault, that she brought up how much she hated deer basically whenever we saw one.

So like...maybe Joey fed a bird wrong at a petting zoo. I can see him getting bit by a parrot because he was too Joey Wheeler.

But now that we’re in a graveyard neighborhood, Pharaoh decides to hop out because there’s a lot of ghosts here and he needs to practice socializing with his peers.

So that’s just a Yugioh monster doing the ostrich dance, right? Like this is a meme from like 2010 but on Yugioh in 2003(4?)

Good to see the Ostrich dance here in the land before Vine.

So they pull out their Pokemon to do some antics, Tea looked like she was about to do something useful, and Yami does a yump across time and space to get her as far away from playing (not)cards as quickly as possible and y’all...sure was a position these animators animated.

Holy crap.

And I was going off about that scene last season where they woke up in the same bed like...

...have these two been together this entire time? Like together together?

They’re like...way more comfortable than you’d figure they’d be considering Yugi nearly passes out every time he gets a hug. But Yami just like....How long has this been going on? As long as Joey’s fear of birds?

Like obviously this show would never cover what the hell Yugi may be thinking about this overreaching move here, because we’re gonna gloss right over that, and just run away up a flight of stairs. No one mentions this ever again. Which is mind blowing for an anime to do. I think in most anime I watch, the kids would be like “ahh ahhhh I bumped into a booooob!” like it does for I want to say every other episode of My Hero Academia. But in Yugioh, they saw that low hanging fruit and they were like “we expect a higher level of maturity out of our audience. Now here’s a fleet of ostrich dancing tree monsters with faces for crotches.”

They decided to sprint up this flight of stairs, and it enough of a slope to deter the monsters who are only unbalanced weird legs.

I want us to take a moment and admire this background painting. I can’t unsee the rocks that are all the same size, just piled on top of eachother. Did Alexander the Great just plop rocks here--or was the mountain made up of tons of similarly shaped boulders?

Like there’s a lot of nice bg’s in this arc, don’t get me wrong, but this one...I’m just trying to wrap my head around the logic of it.

At the top, they meet a pantheon, that is immediately blocked by this wall, because if this arc had a tagline, it’s “Yugi gets inconvenienced every 4 seconds.”

Bro was like “Clearly they would have pushed it over if Tea wasn’t slacking off” and like...she is actually. Look at her. Only used one hand? Slacker.

Joey was disappointed he couldn’t push over a massive wall, and the team decided not to analyze how much Joey Wheeler thinks of his own strength and instead fixate on these statues.

Usually in anthro characters they kinda look birdlike but act human. But what about an anthro that’s just a bird? Like human torso, but can turn his head 180 degrees? Yugioh made me ask this question.

And then Joey was like “wait, there may be a solution that isn’t just to use brute strength!”

Youknow it is a bummer that Kaiba couldn’t witness Joey own a dragon while he himself only has a robot jet dragon. Although, the jet is probably faster, stronger and overall...better than this baby dragon. It would have been great for Kaiba to witness Joey under-utilize this dragon and forget he has it for like huge swatches of the episode.

And then Grandpa pulled some body horror out of nowhere.

Wow.

I mean that is really gross.

I guess Grandpa can’t use Blue eyes, because Kaiba ripped it up, Grandpa can’t use Exodia because Weevil tossed it off a boat, and grandpa can’t use the card that’s just a building because...it’s a building.

So instead Grandpa has a bunch of meat and bones that look like something out of Doom. It’s probably from a more obscure Konami property, but I forget which.

I’ve seen Tristan hold back Joey in this hold, first time it’s been Tea.

So much shipping in this episode, it’s wild.

It’s also wild how low my standards are for what could possibly be shipping when it comes to Yugioh because of how freakin tepid all of these characters are, which as I’ve brought up before, I really don’t mind.

So Yugi decides that because Grandpa was folding his arms like one monster and it made a gem light up or something, to just do the video game thing and use the giant ass statues as clues.

Why was this arc not a video game? Like parts of it really feel like it was meant to be.

So Yugi falls down a hole, where the walls cave in like it’s that dumpster in Star Wars but like...it barely phases him.

Also...Yugi might be able to see in the dark. It’s never been brought up but like...the more I think about it...has Yugi ever struggled to see without the lights on?

After Joey disappoints everyone, he confronts death.

And Pharaoh and Yugi decide to solve the puzzle of “how do I get out of this trap dungeon room” which, honestly, is probably what they’re doing every time they hang out in the brain pyramid.

So they summon their mascot monster, and surprisingly the show decided its ability to fly cannot help them out here.

Kuriboh manages to become enough of a doormat to push Yami up to the stone and they end up in a set of weird cuts that ended in this?

Like seriously it was like flashes of light and then they were just...up here like this.

Hey like...

Alexander the Great, my man...

Were you planning to put that stone in the middle of a exhaust vent hoping someone would touch it? Because there’s no way anyone would rationally have done that. You would need to fly to do it. This is the world’s worst DM.

Like Yugioh pulls a lot of fantasy nonsense but this arc is a lot more like a “it’s a kid’s show, just go with it.” arc than most of them. It’s not a bad vibe, necessarily, it’s just not the vibe I’m used to.

So once I witnessed maybe the most boring conversation I’ve ever witnessed about corn (this was on a twitch stream, by the way, a guy was playing an interesting game, and then a guest came on and started talking about corn and plants for 2 hours) and they would not shut up about how all taxonomy is wrong because there are no such thing as trees and how all animals are labelled incorrectly, and then they started comparing it to like all sorts of mushrooms and phytoplankton as you would if you clearly got a little bit high before dumping your corn knowledge on a twitch stream.

Anyway, after that bizarre experience I suffered so I could learn how to play an obscure video game, I think I can safely say, that while I know everyone here thinks a bird can’t be a dog. If you’re a high biologist: a bird is absolutely a dog. Apparently you can just do that if you’re the most boring biologist alive and no one will argue with you because to do that would involve talking to you. We’ll just say a bird is a dog and no one can fight me or I will talk about the corn book that this guest on this twitch chat was thinking about renting from the library about the different types of corn mutations inherent in freakin Indiana. Therefore, Joey’s fear of birds and dogs is same.

So they use Dark Magician to save them from the statues, and Yugi busts into the pantheon again because they got to open this casket before a time limit that I kind of forgot about, tbh.

And inside the casket, is...this thing!

(enjoy this line on the bottom of the image I don’t feel like fixing it)

And you may say to yourself...it looks like it’s just floating in mid-air, that’s silly, and so I want to introduce you to the next panel where you can see that it is...quite literally...just floating in the air like a video game.

and it just slurps itself onto Yugi before he can be like “nonono.”

Wasn’t there some horror movie where you were stuck in some sort of body brace that slowly tortures you (was that Saw?) This has that vibes. Like man that looks uncomfortable to wear over a jacket and two belts and a collar that is another belt.

That and I...I gotta appreciate that Yugi popped his collar while wearing body armor and chunky necklace. What 00′s fashion appreciation right there.

Bit like...this isn’t breathable, right? Like Yugi’s gonna finally take this thing off and his jacket will just be completely soaked in sweat?

Anyway, that’s it for this post, next week we’ll see if Yugi can walk through a doorway in that thing.

Also, I can’t bring up the ostrich dance without sharing the vines of my generation

[easily-infatuated23]

The Tub: Draco Malfoy x Reader

a/n: this is my first one of these so sorry if it sucks but here goes nothing!

Part Two Here

warnings: just some light fluff, small mention of bullying

summary: reader is having a really hard day and when she goes to relax in the prefects bathroom the unexpected occurs 

word count: 2k

The castle is enormous. So enormous that getting lost becomes part of my daily routine. But sometimes, its so crushingly small it's hard to find a place to be alone to get away from the constant noise of what feels like hundreds of middle and high school students. Everyone’s first choice of escape is the astronomy tower, so much so that a Ravenclaw tried to institute a sign up sheet as to insure the crowds wouldn’t mass as much. They were unsuccessful. The truly hidden places of the castle are few and far between and for those of us who aren’t lucky enough to find the Room of Requirement, we must get creative. The most recent spot I have found is the Prefect’s bathroom on the sixth floor. Moaning Myrtle will sometimes float through but we are on good terms so she generally will leave me alone.

As a Seer, the noise of the world is extra loud in my head. It's bad enough to have the regular noise, but the passing through of others’ thoughts is exhausting. I have gotten better at shielding myself but it takes a lot of energy. The Prefect’s bathroom has been a wonderful solution because within the chamber is a large bathtub which I use as a jacuzzi, to relax and reset. I am just so tired. The added layer of being Seer as well as a non pure-blood in Slytherin, takes its own individual toll. My family had been pure-blood until my parents. My mother had married a muggle man.

I started late in the sequence of years at Hogwarts. My family moved from America to England which meant I transferred into school third year. For a while people were interested in me but that died down within the first month. However, when I let my family heritage slip, I became as talked about as Harry Potter. As a descendant of Merlin himself, people began to attempt to get close to me just for the idea of “fame” rubbing off onto them. Harry and I have had discussions about it together but I know he secretly enjoys it, even if he doesn’t know he does.

Today wasn’t just any typical Thursday. The excitement for Christmas break was buzzing around the castle, practically inescapable. The world was loud and I was tired. Luckily, today is a short day so I was able to escape to the Prefect’s bathroom after lunch. I usually waited until I knew most of the castle was either at a meal or doing homework but today the world had been especially loud. I tentatively filled the tub checking my surroundings for a stray ghost or student. Once it was full I climbed in and allowed myself to fully relax. The noise melted away and it was like I could finally breathe.

After only fifteen short minutes I heard footsteps and looked up to see the last person I would expect or want to see, Draco Malfoy. The Prince of pure-blood Slytherin, the cruelest person within the castle besides Professor Snape. He had never gone out of his way to be mean to me in particular, but if one of his buddies started something he would be sure to join in. When people found out about my abilities, I had been forced to read him in front of practically the whole school. I saw such pain and fear in his life that I nearly passed out. To prove to him that my abilities were real, he told me to tell him something from his past only he would know. I said “a talking diary and a ripped page from a bookstore”. Ever since then, he never challenged me again. And yet here he was now, invading my hidden corner, my escape from everyone.

We locked eyes as he walked in and we both froze. “What are you doing in here?” he asked sharply. I didn’t reply but simply began to get out and grab my things when his voice interrupted my actions. “I’m not gonna make you leave I was just asking. You looked dreadful during Potions today, are you ok?”. For the first time, his words and his tone matched and seemed genuine. “Everyone has been really loud today. Let's just say that if I never hear the sentence ‘is he gonna ask me to the Yule Ball’ again it will be too soon” I remarked. He chuckled and looked down at his shoes. I now became acutely aware of the fact that I was standing in front of him in just a bikini in a steamy room. My cheeks flushed and I slipped back into the tub. “Why are you in here Draco?” I asked. He looked up at me and sighed. “This is usually where I come to hide but I got here a bit later than usual, I didn’t think there was competition for this spot”. I frowned and looked away from him. “Yeah that’s my bad, I usually am in here much later in the day. It’s just been such a loud day already. I needed to decompress earlier than usual”. He walked closer to me, then circled the tub to sit on the window sill. After a few minutes he spoke. “Does it actually help quiet the world? To sit in there I mean”. He gestured to the tub. “Yes it does actually”. I replied.

This was the weirdest but nicest conversation I had ever had with him. I had never been fully alone with Draco before, was this how he was when he was removed from his asshole friends? In a moment of impulsive thought I blurted “You are welcome to join me if you’d like”. Shit. Why did I say that? This guy is literally the worst. “Wouldn’t that just add noise in your head?” he asked. “No, when its a group of ten or less I can actually turn everybody off quite easily. Anymore then that and it gets harder and harder”. He nodded and then looked out the window. I could see his mind working through his grey eyes, deciding if he would stay or go. Finally, he shrugged. “What the hell”. He kicked his shoes off and began to loosen his tie. I wanted to look away but I couldn’t help myself watch him undress. I finally looked away and closed my eyes, relaxing my head on the edge of the tub.

The tub was big enough around that he could sit on the other side and we wouldn’t touch. The water churned as he got it. He sat closer to me than I had anticipated but I tried not to think about it as I took a deep breath and let my mind wander. “This is surprisingly relaxing”. His voice for the first time didn’t sound as strained or coarse as normal. “How did you find out about this?” he asked. I opened my eyes and looked at him, puzzled. “Have you never been in a jacuzzi?”. He shook his head. “Wow well that’s one thing wizards should definitely adopt from the muggle world” I replied, with a smile. He looked away from me quickly. Was that a hint of blush coming from his cheeks? Probably just from the heat of the water I rationalized. “Do you do this everyday?” he asked. “At least once a week. It's good for the soul”.

There was then a long period of silence. At first the silence was uncomfortable, but the longer it persisted, the more comfortable it became. A couple times I could have sworn that the water churned in a way that would indicate him moving closer to me. I didn’t dare check. I kept my eyes closed as the odd smile would flow across my face without thought. When I finally did open my eyes, he was less than two feet away from me. We locked eyes and I smiled. He gave a timid smile back before looking away again. I wanted to use my abilities to slip into his mind and hear what he was thinking but I held myself to a strict rule. “This seems like a pretty necessary time to use it” the voice in my head remarked. I physically shook my head to expel that thought from my mind. I felt his eyes on me. “I wasn’t inside your head by the way. I thought about it but decided that didn’t hold up with my rule so I shook it out of my head”. “You can if you want” he replied. I looked at him and sat up a bit. “My rule is I only purposefully do it if absolutely necessary or if the person gives me permission or asks me to do it. Are you asking me Draco?”.

The words flowed out of my mouth before I could filter them. Was that flirty? Did I just flirt with Draco? The thoughts swirled in my head only to be broken by his response. “Yes I am” he said sincerely. “Can I have your hand? It’s easier if I have physical contact”. I said. He nodded  and stared into my eyes as I moved closer to him. I clasped his hand and imagined his energy and thoughts flowing into my brain. His head was relatively quiet, besides one thought practically screaming. I opened my eyes and looked into his, stunned. “What was I thinking?” he asked in almost a whisper. I swallowed hard. “You were thinking ‘is it wrong that all I want to do is kiss her’”. I felt my cheeks turn red but I didn’t break eye contact. “Is it?” he asked. “No” I replied, unaware that a smile had crept across my face. He smiled back as his eyes darted from my eyes to my lips and back. I moved his hand which I was still holding to my cheek. His free hand moved underwater to my lower back as he pulled me onto his lap. Our faces were so close together I could feel his breath. He moved his other hand to my waist as I cupped his cheeks with mine. In a tender moment, not overly embroiled with passion or lust, we kissed. It was innocent and sweet. It made everything else seem unimportant. It was as if time slowed to a stand still. After a few moments we both pulled away and shared a smile that became a laugh. “I can honestly say this is not how I thought my day was going to go” Draco chuckled. “Me neither” I added. Suddenly a thought popped into my head. “Wait what time is it?” I asked. He checked his watch. “Two o’clock, why?”. “Damn, I promised I would meet Ron for a game of wizard’s chess. I always beat him but he insists on constantly challenging me”. I started to pull away when I noticed his face drop slightly. I pulled close to him again. “I am not making up an excuse to run away from you. Believe me I don’t want to go but if I don’t Ron will come looking for me and this would be a hard situation to explain” I remarked with a chuckle. His face picked up a little. “Are you staying here over Christmas?”. “Yes I am” I replied. “I think I will too, I’ve recently started to fancy you and I kinda want to explore this without the pressure of the whole school being here, if that’s ok with you” he smiled. “I would like that”. “But for the moment we can’t tell anyone what happened here or that we are even friends” he remarked suddenly. “It’s not my favorite reputation to uphold but if my father finds out I am seeing or being seen with someone who is not a pure-blood..” he trailed off. I pulled his face close to mine again and looked deep into his eyes. “You don’t have to explain. Remember, when I read you two years ago? I saw all of your past. I understand why”. His eyes were sadder now but he still managed a small smile. “Ok now I really have to go” I said as I kissed him one more time before climbing out of the tub. He watched me as I changed back into my uniform, smiling a bit more smugly now. “When can I see you again?” he called after me as I walked towards the door. “Friday night, let’s meet in the common room. Everyone will be gone for Christmas by then”. “Its a date!”. I turned back and blew him a kiss which he caught and immediately pressed to his lips. My heart fluttered as I jogged to the Great Hall. “Oi, where’ve you been?” Ron questioned impatiently. “Sorry, got a bit caught up” I remarked, smiling at the secret Draco Malfoy and I now shared.

[plaidbooks]

Asthma

A/N: This is a Sonny Carisi x reader fic and as the title may suggest, it’s about asthma! I have asthma, and something like this happened to me (thank god for friends who know how to use inhalers). Please be aware that not all asthma works like this, and it’s highly specific to myself and how my asthma is. anyways, hope y’all enjoy.

P.S. I have a headcanon that Sonny switches to Italian when stressed/upset/scared because it calms him down

Tags: asthma attacks/lack of oxygen, near-death experiences

Words: 1722

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @barbasimp @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

Translations: Merda = shit

Fanculo = fuck

Stai bene? = are you ok?

come funziona di nuovo? = How does this work again?

Non farlo di nuovo! = Don’t do that again!

~~~~~~~~~~ 

You had been running around all day in the New York City heat and humidity, your lungs burning as you finally made it home. You’d think after living here for so long, you’d be used to the oppressive air by now, but you still had breathing issues. Which is why you had two albuterol inhalers for your asthma—one in your purse and one on the counter in the kitchen. Your kitchen was in the middle of your apartment and made the most sense logistically as to where to keep it—it was the perfect distance whether you were coming from the bedroom or the living room.

You had only really had a bad asthma attack once before, and you knew that you had a good 5-10 seconds before you’d lose consciousness. But that was also dependent on how much you panicked; if your brain went into overdrive, then you’d start breathing harder and you’d run out of air faster. It was all about mind over matter, but sometimes, even with mild attacks, it was hard to not panic. It was the natural response to not being able to breathe.

Collapsing onto the couch, you turned your laptop on, hoping to just relax with some funny videos on youtube for the night until your boyfriend, Sonny, came home. Since becoming an ADA, he was coming home earlier than when he was a detective. Though he usually brought cases home with him, working on the coffee table until late in the evening. You didn’t mind; at least you could sit with him, keep each other company, even talk when he wasn’t super invested. Plus, you loved when he’d stand in front of you, running you through his closing arguments or his cross as if you were a witness.

 ***********************

You lost track of time as you laughed heartily at a video, your laughter erupting out of you. You clutched your stomach in pain, tears in your eyes as you laughed. Then, you went to suck in a lungful of air. But nothing happened. You tried again and got a weird rasping sound in your throat. Your eyes went wide as you realized what had happened; you had laughed so hard, you were having an asthma attack. Panic swept through you and you sprung to your feet. But it had been a while now—seconds, though they stretched on—without air, and you were suddenly light-headed. Your lungs burned and it was like a sledgehammer was being pressed upon your chest. You gasped for breath but got nothing in return. Glancing through your fading vision at the kitchen, you took one step, then another, your senses slowly turning off before darkness overtook you.

***

Sonny walked down the hallway to the apartment he shared with you, whistling a tune. Today had gone surprisingly well, and he was off much earlier than he expected, with the weekend stretched before him. He even left all his case files at work, not bothering to work anymore once he left the office for the night.

Digging his key out of his pocket, he went to unlock the door. There was a loud thud from inside the apartment, and Sonny froze.

“Doll?” he called out. He pressed his ear to the door, his hand fumbling for the keyhole. There was no response, and it made his panic rise like bile in his throat. His hand was shaking so badly, he had to steady it with his other hand to get the key in. But in his hurry, he turned it too hard, snapping the key in the keyhole.

Sonny took a step back, braced himself, then kicked the door open, the wood splintering. He rushed in, glancing around until he found you, laying on your side, unmoving.

“Merda! Stai bene?” he asked, making his way over to you. Sonny knelt down, rolling you onto your back. Your chest was barely moving, and you were rasping with every breath. He knew about your asthma, but he had never seen you like this and had not expected it.

Sonny hurried to the kitchen, snatching your inhaler off the counter. He rushed back to you, your breathing much more shallow now, even after a few seconds.

“Fanculo, fanculo…come funziona di nuovo?” he muttered to himself, shaking the inhaler in his hand. He’d never needed to use it before, and you showed him how so long ago…. He ripped the cap off, placing it gently in your mouth. Feeling like he was hurting rather than helping, he plugged your nose as he pressed the cylinder with the medicine down, hearing the spray go into your mouth.

He waited, counting in his head to ten, all the while mumbling, “merda, merda, merda,” over and over again like a mantra. Once he hit ten, he released your nose and took the inhaler from your mouth. Slowly, you started taking deeper and deeper breaths, and your eyelids fluttered before opening.

***

Your chest was on fire and your throat burned as you came to, groggy and disoriented. Though, your mind was rushing, in the way that only your asthma medication did to you—it was a breathable steroid/adrenaline. When your eyes focused, you saw Sonny leaning over you, looking worried to death. But when he saw your eyes opened, a wide grin of relief spread across his face.

“Fanculo! Non farlo di nuovo!” he said, helping you to sit up.

You winced at the motion, giving him a look. “W-what? You’re speaking Italian, Dom.”

“I-I know…I do that when I’m scared. It calms me.”

You chuckled lightly, but grimace as pain broke through your chest. “That’s not helpful when I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Never mind; can you get up? I need to take you to the hospital—”

“No,” you replied. “I’m fine—I’ll be fine. Just…help me to the couch.”

Sonny gave you a hard look before he helped you stand, guiding you to the couch. “You should still go to the hospital; who knows how long you were on the ground without air?”

“Was I still breathing when you used the inhaler?” you asked. You held out your hand for it, and Sonny passed you the little piece of plastic that had just saved your life.

“Y-yeah, but barely—”

“Then I’m fine.” You glanced at Sonny, who was gearing up for an argument, and you sighed. “If I were to go to the hospital right now, they’ll either do nothing or just give me another dose of albuterol, Dom. Honestly, I’m fine, okay?” He still looked willing to argue, so you added, “I know it must’ve been…bad, seeing me on the ground like that. But I promise you I’m okay.”

Sonny let out a long sigh, rubbing his face with both hands. “Okay. I trust your judgement with your own medical issues.” He sat down on the couch next to you. “But run me through how to use the inhaler again—I wanna make sure I did it right. And please explain to me what the hell happened.”

You chuckled, raising the inhaler—you were going to take a second dose, anyway, to get rid of the pain in your chest. Sonny watched intently, happy to find that even in his panic, he had, in fact, done it correctly. As you held your breath, letting the medication work its way into your lungs, your eyes travelled to the front door, still ajar, the frame in pieces.

“Sonny, what the fuck?” you coughed out.

His eyes followed yours and he swallowed. “I, uh, I forgot I did that,” he replied, smiling sheepishly.

“Well now what do we do? We can’t leave our place open like this,” you glanced at the time; it was late, and no hardware store would be open for new doors. And you were pretty sure your landlord was going to be pissed.

“It’s fine; I can make it so it looks closed. If you don’t feel safe, we can go to a hotel until I fix it tomorrow,” Sonny said, standing. You nodded and he was off, packing an overnight bag for you both.

 *******************

By the time you were at the hotel, you were exhausted. The effects of the medication had run its course, and you just wanted to sleep. Sonny, of course, didn’t allow you carry anything as he led you to your room. He swiped the keycard, letting you in first, and you all but collapsed onto the bed.

“You okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Your voice was muffled as you replied, and he asked again. Turning your head to the side, you mumbled, “fine, just tired.”

“It’s late; let’s get in bed.” Sonny stripped quickly, then helped you stand, gently pulling your shirt up and off. Once in just your panties, you crawled under the covers, curling onto your side. Sonny got in behind you, wrapping himself around you. “I love you,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

“I love you, too, Dom,” you whispered back. Mercifully, you fell asleep almost instantly, the long day wearing you out.

But Sonny hardly slept, afraid that he’d wake up to you no longer breathing. Instead, he laid there, cradling you in his arms, listening to your soft breaths, the sound music to his ears. He dozed off and on, but mostly, he just held you, trying not to tear up as he thought about what might’ve happened if he had worked his normal hours, staying late in the office. He also thought about the other thing he packed in the overnight bag, hidden deep underneath everything else, for fear of it being stolen from your apartment as well as the fear of your finding it.

Inside a sock, rolled up and shoved underneath everything else, was a little box. And in that box was the most perfect engagement ring that Sonny knew you’d love. He’d been planning to propose around your birthday, but now, with that near-death scare, he was thinking that he should just do it now. He was off the next two days, and you were already planning to do dinner tomorrow night. Would it be weird timing now? But at the same time, life was short; today proved that. As the sun came up, streaming through the drawn curtains, Sonny made up his mind.

[anon-rebel-writes]

Of Pink Fairies and Teenage Boys - 1

Hello everyone! I hope you are having a fantabulous day!

This concept is a little strange, but it gets better the more chapters come out! Hopefully the weirdness doesn’t freak anyone out too much XD

The idea was basically just Marinette being a fairy and Luka kinda being in love with how adorable she is. But now it’s a story about Marinette slowly helping him out with different aspects of his life.

I intended this story to be a slow burn, but I’m impatient so it’s going to be five chapters! :D

I hope you all enjoy this piece! It starts under the cut! Ao3 Link

The hot summer rays pierced into the porthole of his cabin. Light danced across his floor in a rich orange hue as the sun set for the day. The divider in the middle of the room was closed off as soft shuffling came from the other side of the wall.

Luka sat on his bed holding his guitar tightly in his hands - the knuckles turning white with from the pressure. His teeth were clenched and his jaw seemed tense. While this was far from normal, lately Luka was finding it hard to keep his usual calm demeanor.

School was officially out for the summer. Most kids were spending it at the pool or with friends, unfortunately Luka Couffaine was not most kids. He saw his mom working longer hours and coming home later than average. While Anarka wasn’t a woman to complain, he saw how not even her bright attitude could outshine the stress.

Luka decided to help out by taking on extra shifts at his delivery job. The money wasn’t crazy, but it could definitely help his mom out. At the end of the day, he just wanted to make her life easier, even if the extra work made his shoulders a little tighter.

His band, Kitty Section, also thought of increasing their practice times. His sister, Juleka, and their drummer, Ivan, wanted to change rehearsal from once a week, to twice a week. It seemed great for them since neither worked or had much to do during summer break, but Luka found himself worn thin from all the extra playing.

Even now, he found himself cringing slightly at the guitar in his hands. When did music become such a chore? All these thoughts continued to plague his mind as his left hand silently fingered different riffs and notes while his right hand merely tapped along the body of the instrument. It wasn’t hard to see that Luka was in a funk. Usually a bit of meditating would help him relax, but miniature distractions always seemed to pull him out of it. They tended to come from his sister, since she usually sat across from his side of the room.

But Luka didn’t want to blame her, it wasn’t her fault. Luka found himself easier to blame. She was just trying to enjoy her free time, it was summer after all. Yet every time she faintly hummed a tune or tapped her desk, he found himself tensing up and feeling frustrated.

The light outside finally left his room and soft snores were heard through the barrier. He barely felt himself moving as he placed the guitar back on its rack. A shaky breath left him as he ran his fingers through his unruly hair. Nothing was working anymore, time seemed to drag on and yet move so fast. When was the last time he worked on his hair? The strands covered his eyes more each day with the blue dye slowly growing out.

He quietly moved off of his bed to change into something more comfortable for sleep. Luka threw on an old band shirt and some red flannel pajama pants. But staring back at his bed, he felt restless. The corners of his eyes felt watery and he held his arms tightly.

Luka didn’t regret any of the stress. He was doing it for his family. It didn’t matter how exhausted he was after riding his bike all day. It didn’t matter that he could barely keep his eyes open during band practice. The only thing that mattered was that he was helping them.

He took a deep breath before trying to shake off the negative feelings. As Luka moved across his cabin towards the bed, the porthole next to his bed swung open, letting in a huge gust of wind. He instinctively tried to shield himself from anything that could fly inside, but nothing but warm air filled the room. After the initial shock, he moved over to the window and closed it tightly again. He looked over at the divider and listened carefully to make sure Juleka didn’t awaken.

Muffled snoring continued to sound out behind the barrier and he felt a small wave of relief flush over him before a soft voice whispered in his left ear, “Wow you look just like your picture.”

At least Juleka was a heavy sleeper so she couldn’t hear the girlish shriek that came from him. Luka jumped away from the voice, falling onto the ground next to his amp. His head turned towards the source of the voice and he saw a little bug flying where his ear was. But it wasn’t a bug, it was a lot larger than a typical bug. Squinting his eyes, he saw that the ‘bug’ looked like a human girl with wings.

“What. The hell.”

The little flying girl attempted to move towards him, but seeing as Luka cowered into the corner of the room in fear, she stopped herself. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! I’m such a klutz, I don’t wanna mess this up already…”

Luka’s eyes were popping out of his head as he stared at her, trying to rack his brain around whether he had passed out earlier and just forgot. He was tired after work today, surely this must all be a dream. But the little fluttering person continued to ramble, the more she talked, the more Luka realized that this may be real. The bug-person-girl was speaking about an assignment, but then she started waving her arms around, gesturing to him and then her. Luka honestly tried to focus on her words, but her wings were loud and the buzzing sound grabbed his full attention.

“-So that’s basically the situation. Do you understand, Monsieur Couffaine?”

He definitely heard that. How did she know his name already? The girl saw his disoriented expression and sighed, “You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?” He nodded his head and attempted to shuffle closer to his bed, trying to find anything to ground himself.

The girl slowly moved towards him as he finally sat back on the soft surface of his bed. Sitting there was supposed to help him back to reality, but the fabric definitely felt real and not like something he’d feel in a dream. His stomach was knotting and suddenly he felt lightheaded. The flying girl-person-bug perched herself on his guitar and waited for him to settle down. After pinching himself a couple of times to make sure he was awake, he nodded over to her. She gave him a big smile and lifted a hand to him.

“I’m Marinette, your own personal fairy!”

Luka leaned towards her with a finger held out to shake her hand back. Now that he was closer, he could see her a lot better. The girl, Marinette, was surrounded in a soft pink glow. She wore a dress made from varying hues of pink petals. The dress was pulled together on her waist by a small string that tied into a bow behind her. Her hair pulled back into a bun on the top of her head, also tied with string. He squinted and saw that she actually had little feet, and those feet had toes. Which was a very strange thing to be amazed by, considering that she just told him she was a fairy.

In all honesty, despite the strange scenario, Luka found his face burning at her adorable outfit. Which was also a strange thing to think about, because she just told him she was a fairy. “Okay, wow. I have like- a million things going through my mind right now. I’m gonna need a minute-”

A loud snore echoed through the room, interrupting his words. Marinette let go of his finger and both of them went rigid. After what felt like an eternity of waiting to see any signs of Juleka waking up, the fairy flew towards Luka’s face to bring his attention back to her. “Wow. Your sister’s a deep sleeper! Even after your girly scream!” Luka should totally be offended. He should be, but honestly his ego was the least of his concerns.

“Yeah, Jules...she’s good at- I guess- sleeping? I’m sorry, I can’t really focus on her when you’re literally a fairy.”

Marinette let out a soft laugh that oddly sounded sweet, chirpy, and cute. Wait, why was he thinking she was cute?! Not cute. She was not cute. Even if her cheeks were rosy and her hair looked soft and- oh my god why is he thinking like this.

“Well, I guess I should re-explain myself, right? I’m a fairy. We are magical beings here to help humans out when they feel sad. Every fairy is assigned a human to watch over and take care of. After the human is happy again, we wipe our existence from their mind and they go on with their lives. Sounds like a good deal, right?”

While in theory that made sense (honestly it didn’t because up until this point Luka was one-hundred percent sure that fairies weren’t real), he couldn’t help but feel mystified. “Okay...I have so many questions.”

Another chirpy (and cute) giggle came from her and she landed next to him on his bed. “Lucky for you, I may have some answers!”

Luka slowly nodded his head as he watched her walk around his blanket. She honestly couldn’t have been longer than the length of his hand, so seeing her move around really gave him odd feelings, more so than before. “So...Fairies are real?”

Marinette laughed again as she began climbing on his lap. “Yup! We used to roam around in the open, but some awful humans began using us for our magic. Now we hide ourselves and help humans secretly!” Luka looked down at the fairy and saw she began rubbing herself around the hem of his shirt. This was definitely strange. Even if this happened to be a dream, he probably shouldn’t be imagining a fairy rubbing her face against his stomach, right? “Uh- What’re you doing?”

She met his eyes and flew up to his face again. “Sorry, it’s just been so long since I felt such nice fabric. I’ve always wanted to wear cute clothes like you humans do! Your shirt is so soft!”

Not only was he stuck with a mythical creature, but he was stuck with a cute one that happened to enjoy rubbing her face on him. Trying to push any weird thoughts out of his mind, Luka nodded his head and tried to look anywhere else but her. She seemed to sense his uncomfortable aura because she backed away from him and sat on the edge of his porthole. “Why don’t you go to bed, Monsieur Couffaine. I’ll answer all your questions in the morning, okay? A good night’s rest will help get your brain back in working condition!”

Luka looked at Marinette and saw her illuminated by her pink glow and the moonlight. His heart felt like her wings for a moment, but he shook his head to get rid of any strange feelings and stood up. Marinette watched his movements as he walked towards his dresser again and grabbed his blue hoodie.

Her head tilted to the side as she watched him fold it into a small bundle. He walked towards his bed and laid the hoodie onto his amp. Luka looked down timidly at the floor in an effort to avoid her gaze. “I just- I thought a hoodie might be nicer than the window.”

Marinette gave him a soft smile and fluttered back over to his head. She pressed her face into his cheek and then dove into the makeshift bed.

This had to have been a dream. There was no way a fairy just kissed his cheek. Luka found himself a bit dazed at her gesture, so he decided to lay on his bed to try and get some rest. Although with all the adrenaline coursing through his body, he doubted he would sleep for the next week.

At least that’s what he thought before strange dust appeared over his head and his eyes suddenly felt heavier. He glanced over at the nightstand and saw the fairy’s hands twirling in the air out of the hoodie, producing the dust that fell over him.

While this could all be a hallucination due to the lack of sleep he’s been getting lately, he found himself faintly longing for this to not be a dream. A tiny part of him wanted to believe that this could actually be real. But all those thoughts were for tomorrow, right now his body was focused on finally pulling him into slumber. For the first time in a while, Luka found himself peacefully sleeping with a tiny part of him excited for tomorrow.

[spectrumed]

2. voice

As a child I could not pronounce the letter R. I once complained to my mother for being so careless as to give me a name that had two R’s in it. Fredrik. Or as I pronounced it back then, “Fledlik.” Cute, right? I was a cute child, all blonde and with big blue eyes. At one point, I got surrounded by a group of older girls who forced me to pronounce my name, even though I really couldn’t. They laughed and laughed, teasing me for my inability to pronounce even my own name correctly. If I ever had a reason to develop a fetish for femdom, I think this would have been it.

Like it or not, in speech, there is no room for individual quirks. No, we’ve all got to learn how to speak properly. Historically, that has led to some pretty heinous attitudes towards regional accents, any tongue that was the standard was seen by default as being less or developed and intelligent. Regional accents were seen as practically unhygienic, the worry being that if people just got to speak as they wished, they might end up potentially thinking dangerous thoughts. While I understand the importance of being understood, it’s clear that the stigma that exists around speech difficulties stems from a place of prejudice. If a person has a lisp, do you really struggle to understand them? And while stammering can be quite debilitating, it should be blatantly obvious that shaming people who stammer, suggesting that they are bereft of intelligence, is not the way to help them. Humans are social animals, and language may be the one thing that distinguishes us as a species, it is natural that proper elocution should be treasured. But some people do struggle with their speech, and that should not cost them any respect or kindness.

As a child, I didn’t speak nearly enough. As an adult I am speaking too much. That’s the problem with you, Fredrik, you’ve never understood that there is a middle ground between two extremes. There is a way you can speak that is neither too quiet, nor too loud. It is how normal people speak. Why can’t you be normal, Fredrik? Are you going to spend this whole blog post talking about how difficult it is for you to simply learn to be like everyone else? Self-pitying yourself, much? Back in my day people pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, if they had something they struggled with, they learned to sort it all out, and they didn’t start complaining about society being all mean to them. You’re just spending too much time inside your own head, go take a swim, take up a hobby that requires you to step outdoors, it will serve you well. Don’t be a freak, Fredrik. Be normal, for once.

On a side note, “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps” is meant to be understood as an impossible feat. You can’t possibly pull yourself up by your bootstraps, it’s ludicrous to even suggest that such a thing may be feasible. While, yes, there are many things you can do to help yourself, ultimately, you can’t profoundly escape from a sorry situation you’ve found yourself in without some outside help. There is no shame in requiring help. To guilt someone into thinking that if they can’t do it alone, they are weak, is frankly sociopathic. Humans need each other, we take care of each other, we are there for each other. Self-sufficiency is great, but let’s not take it to levels of absurdity by suggesting that needing help from others is anything but normal. No-one succeeds in life without others there to prop them up. Instead of telling someone to pull themselves up by their bootstraps, you might as well tell them to go and swallow the sun, which is clearly another impossible task.

Most people will never in their lives experience what it is like to go through a neuropsychological evaluation. Turns out that it is not always such a pleasant experience. Though, considering the popularity of pseudo-scientific nonsense like the Myers-Briggs test, I am sure some folks would lie and pretend to love it. Certainly, there is a charm to being there and talking about yourself for several hours near-uninterrupted, but the exhaustion that you will feel at the end of it cannot be understated. Naturally, it does vary between who does it, and why they’re doing it. But if the stated goal is to find out whether you’ve had a neurodevelopmental disorder since you were but a young babe, then of course, there are going to be some pretty long conversations happening about those early days. Lots of stuff you may not have considered or thought about in a very long time will suddenly become very relevant to your current situation. And at the end of it all, you get some papers detailing your fashionable new diagnosis. Your entire life, all written down. Can make you feel rather wistful. And there’s really quite a surprising amount of typos included in the text, and barely any jokes.

Still, as part of my official diagnosis, there is a reference to my speech at being at times “stilted.” Though, the diagnosis does take very good care to mention that I appear intelligent and thoughtful, exhibiting a wide vocabulary and a good sense of the right words to use at the right moment. It’s flattering, for the most part. Yet, it does irk me that I could be perceived as being stilted. I know that at this point, I am being petty, because who cares if I sometimes come across as maybe a little robotic. I’ve got Asperger’s. Of course I am a robot. The closest role model we folks with Asperger’s ever had for the longest time was Star Trek: The Next Generation’s android named Data. God forbid anyone like me ever turned out to be the protagonist of a series, we’re all doomed to play the part of the robot, the alien, or the socially awkward geek. I should just be delighted that I am high-functioning. I know how much worse some have it. I should be grateful and pleased that I come across as mostly normal, mostly neurotypical. But… I really just don’t want anyone to think my speech is stilted. I don’t want to be Data. I want to be Riker.

It is never enough, you’ll never be good enough. If you fake it, they’ll see through it. If you struggle and if you work honestly to appear more normal, they won’t recognise it. As soon as they get an inkling you may be an imposter, looking like them, but having a neurologically deviant brain, they’ll single you out. For you, normalcy is an illusion. To attempt to be normal is to remake yourself only to receive nothing. Sure, you can be disingenuous, pretend you're not yourself, but it’ll never fool them. In the end, you’ll only lose yourself. Maybe I should just own the fact that my speech sometimes comes across as being stilted. Maybe I should own it. Be proud of who I am. But… sometimes I just don’t want to be me.

I want to be ignored. Sometimes, not always. But that goes for everyone. But most of all, I’d like to be able to go unseen whenever I’m not trying to impress anyone. When I’m just off to buy some milk. When I’m sitting on the bus. When I’m walking through the park. I know it is partly paranoia, but I can’t help but feel like I stick out. It’s always been like that with my friends growing up. The metaphor I used with my therapist is that I felt like a thumb. That they, my friends, were the fingers and I was the thumb. Sure, we’re similar. In many ways we’re the same. You could even say that I was crucial to making the social dynamics work. Who doesn’t like the thumb? What would you do without your thumb? But still, I was different. Some people would do anything to be different like that, to feel special. Some folks feel all invisible and forgotten in the crowd, and I’d lie if I told them that I didn’t envy them sometimes. The ability to go all invisible? That seems swell! There’s this question people like to ask as a sort of personality test. If you could choose a superpower, would you rather be able to fly, or would you rather be able to go invisible? The answer is obvious, as far as I’m concerned. Of course I’d love to be able to go invisible. To be able to exist without anyone seeing me. Without anyone judging me. Without ever having to worry if someone is going to treat me as different. For a moment to feel what it is like not to be some big, dumb, stupid, thumb.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not too anguished. Nowadays, I feel like I am in a relatively good place. But I would be lying if I told you that I still don’t get frustrated at the plethora of difficulties I face just trying to blend in. Even with family members, people who are supposed to know you the best, even then I have to go out of my way to behave a certain way, to exist a certain way, because fundamentally, they just don’t seem to get you. Not in that way. They have an image of you that you need to try and match. It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them that sometimes you need to be more direct in your communication to truly reach me, I don’t pick up on the many smaller little social cues they may throw my way, it’s still just me being silly and looking for excuses for why I didn’t understand them the first time around. And I am deathly afraid of hurting anyone’s feelings. A very prevalent misconception about autistic individuals is that we don’t care if we’re being rude. That if we are rude, our rudeness can simply be overlooked because, y’know, we’re autistic. While this sort of thing is commonly represented in media that is supposed to depict autistic characters, in real life, things don't quite work like this. Believe it or not, readers, being autistic is not a free pass to act like a dick. Autistic individuals still very much have to modulate our behaviour if we wish to fit in and be accepted. No-one will ever excuse you for being autistic. To be autistic is living with extra hurdles in your way, thinking that it’s anything but a social handicap is romanticising a diagnosis you clearly know very little about.

When I was a kid, I didn’t speak much. As far as I was concerned, I merely spoke whenever I needed to speak. It took until adulthood for me to learn that my parents and teachers were actually concerned about that. I was made to see a specialist, under the guise of learning elocution, but I’ve later come to realise that those meetings were about more than just learning to pronounce the letter R. Like, what does testing my memory have to do with diction? Yes, her job was partly to help my speech develop more in line with the other kids, but she was also there to evaluate whether or not I was intellectually disabled. I have come to learn that I had teachers at the time that were adamant about me going to a different school, more equipped to handle kids like me, but my mother vehemently defended my right to stay in the school I was in. After all, I did have friends, and to anyone who really knew me, they knew that I was a bright child. Sure, I wasn’t as communicative as the other children, but I clearly had no issues processing information, and it’s not like I was disruptive in some other way. But that was also part of the problem. The teachers that thought that I may need specialist schooling were concerned about the fact that I was too placid and too agreeable. They wanted me to express frustration at my lacking pronunciation, to see me get mad at others for not fully understanding me. That amazes me, if anything. The fact that I was a happy kid they took as some indication that I wasn’t quite right.

My mother delights in a memory of me as a kid once slamming my fist on the table and declaring that “now, I am speaking!” May I remind you that I was a cute kid. Sure, it is the sort of behaviour that parents of the old times would have spanked their kids for. Kids in the past were supposed to be quiet. To be seen, but not heard. I wonder if there’d be any kind of hubbub about my early development if I lived back then. I’d probably be seen as the ideal child, all pretty and docile and never too loud. Still, it was a moment my mother cherished, because for once, I really proved that I did have the capacity to speak. Though, I still couldn’t pronounce my R’s. But it was time for Fledlik to speak.

[avengerscompound]

The Surrogate - Chapter 5

The Surrogate:  A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count:  1732

Rating:  E

Warnings: Blood and Serious Injures, talk of past miscarriage and red room fuckery.

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff.  While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people.  When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want.  Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 5

“Nat.  Let me carry your baby.”

Your words seemed to just hang in the air like a storm cloud, freezing the room and yet mesmerizing it at the same time.  With every passing moment that Natasha didn’t answer the more sure you were that you’d just crossed some invisible line and now they were going to see you as some interfering busy body or something.  Or that mentioning it had hurt her and she wasn’t going to want to be around you anymore.

“What?  What baby?  Nat’s having a baby?” Clint asked, finally breaking the silence with his total confusion.

Other than the fact that Clint speaking seemed to shake her out of her trance, Natasha completely ignored him.  “But that still wouldn't work,” she said, bracing her hand on the door frame to steady herself.  “The genes…”

“But don't you see, Nat,” you implored, taking her hand.  “If they're inside me, my powers should correct the flaws as they pop up.  I’ll be growing them, the cells will be going through meiosis inside me, sharing my blood and nutrients.  I fix new problems.  So… It should work.”

Natasha blinked at you and her mouth opened and closed like a fish.  “Would you… Are you sure you actually want to do this for us?”

You nodded.  “Yes… Yes, I think I do.  If I'm your only chance and this is something you really want.  You guys are my best friends.  I want to do this for you.  You deserve to get to be happy and this is… it’s big and you should get to have it.”

Natasha launched herself at you and wrapped her arms around your neck as she peppered your face with kisses.  “Oh my god.  I can't believe you.  I don't deserve you,” she babbled between each peck.

You started laughing and hugged her back.  “You deserve everything good,” you whispered.

“Can one of you please explain to me what's going on?”  Clint asked in frustration.

Natasha pulled back from you and you smiled.  “Okay… okay… I’ll leave you guys to it.  You let me know,” you said, patting her arm.

“You can stay,” Natasha said.

“What… but we were…” Clint whined, looking back at the couch.

“It’s fine.  I gotta sleep anyway.  And you guys should talk and I guess do each other.  I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said.

Natasha hugged you again - this time a tight bear hug, squeezing you tight against her and burying her face in your neck.  “Thank you,” she whispered.

Tears pricked your eyes and you rubbed her back.  “See you tomorrow.”

You headed back to your room and despite still completely buzzing you only really had the energy to take off your pants and shoes and fall into bed.  It took a little while for your brain to decide to switch off and there were a few hours where you tossed and turned while you went over what it might actually be like being a surrogate for them.  What procedures you’d go through.  What being pregnant would be like.  Eventually, your brain finally switched off, letting you sleep.

You didn’t wake until late the next morning when the rumbling of your stomach got loud enough to wake you.  You ignored it, by first going to the shower.  You hadn’t eaten since the debrief where they had a sandwich platter, but you hadn’t showered in three days and you woke up being able to smell yourself.

As soon as you were out of the shower there was a buzz at your door.

“Who is it, FRIDAY?”  You asked, wrapping your towel around your waist.

“Agents Barton and Romanoff,” the AI responded.

You rushed to the door and pulled it open to find Clint holding a mug of coffee and Natasha was holding a plate of crepes and fresh fruit.  You grinned at them.  “I’m guessing you want to do it?”

“Can we come in?”  Natasha asked.

“How did you know I was awake?”  You asked, stepping out of the way of the door and going and grabbing another towel and wrapping it around your head.

“We asked FRIDAY to tell us,” Clint answered.

You grabbed the coffee cup off him and took a long drink as he took a seat on the couch.  You put your cup down and went back into your bedroom to dry off.  “So?  Tell me...  What’s going on?”  You called back to them.

“Well, after you left I talked to Clint about your offer,” Natasha said coming to the bedroom door and standing at it without looking in.  “We talked for a long time, about what happens if you do it?  Are we meant to be parents?  Is it what we want?  How we’d feel if it didn’t work.  That kind of thing.”

“Right,” you said, as you hastily dressed.  “But what did you decide?  You’re worse than watching ‘Who wants to be a millionaire?’”

“‘Cause I don’t want to say it while you’re naked on the other side of the door,” Natasha teased.

You stepped out, the towel still wrapped around your head and went and sat down next to Clint, taking another drink from the coffee before starting on the crepes. “Okay… go,” you said, looking between the two of them.

“If you are serious about wanting to be our surrogate then; yes.  Please.  You have no idea how much that would mean to us.  I don’t think we’d ever be able to thank you for it,” Natasha said.

“Nat, come here,” you said, patting the spot on the couch beside you.

She came and sat down and looked at you like she expected you to tell her that in the cold light of day you’d decided it was a bad idea.  You took a bite of the crepe, and chewed it slowly, enjoying dragging it out.  Clint began to tap his foot nervously on the other side of you, while Natasha balled her hands into fists.

“I absolutely do want to do this for both of you,” you said.  Both Clint and Natasha pounced on you wrapping their arms around you and hugging you tight.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” Clint babbled as he squeezed you tight.

“We’re going to be parents, Clint,” Natasha mumbled, as she pressed her cheek to yours.

Clint pulled back and looked at her smiling, his eyes shimmering a little.  “Yeah, Nat,” he said.  “We are.”

He leaned over your head and Natasha bridged the difference, bringing her lips to his.  You crouched down underneath them and went back to your food, shrugging your shoulders in an attempt to shake them off.  “Can you maybe not make out over the top of me?”

“What?” Clint teased, pulling back.  “You’ve never complained about being in the middle of a sandwich before.”

“I also wasn’t eating those times,” you said, pushing him off you.

“Maybe we should talk logistics?”  Natasha said sitting back.  “I don’t… this is really sudden and I don’t know if you want to just go right into it or wait or…?”

It was unusual to see Natasha so nervous and unsure.  Clint moved around the couch and put his arm around her, taking one of her hands in his.

“I mean, I guess we need to talk to HR and maybe Steve about things like maternity leave, but honestly, it’s up to you.  If you want to go to see a specialist today, I’ll go with you,” you said.

“Right, I guess -” Natasha let out a breath and looked at Clint.

“You’re totally freakin’ out, Nat,” Clint teased.  “That’s supposed to be me.”

“I just… I never expected to have this be even an option,” Natasha explained.  “I feel like I should take it now and I can’t get any more ready than I am now.  But am I?  I haven’t even thought about it.”

“Then maybe you should,” you said.  “Think about it that is.  I promise I’m not going anywhere.  I came to you, you didn’t come to me.  It’s understandable that this is a lot to deal with right now.”

Natasha looked at you and seemed to blink back tears.  “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she said.

You hugged her again, holding her as she tried very hard not to cry.  Clint hugged her from behind.  “Maybe this is it,” Clint said.  “Maybe you get to shake all that stuff off and get something new, Nat.  You get to be someone’s mom.”

Natasha swallowed and pulled back.  No one said anything as she did her best to center herself again.  You and Clint both knew how much she hated looking vulnerable so you went back to your crepes and Clint stole a strawberry from your plate.

“So,” Natasha said, breaking the silence.  “I was reading up on it and they need to give both of us hormonal therapy to get us to peak fertility and they’ll harvest eggs from me.  Then they’ll get Clint to fertilize them and they implant them into you when you’re at your peak.  It’s expensive but we can afford it and we’ll cover all your medical expenses too.  Obviously.  Do you want anything else?  Payment? Or I dunno… anything?”

You shook your head.  “Just both my favorite people to be happy.”

“I really want to kiss you right now,” Natasha said.

You smirked at her.  “Go ahead.”

She leaned in and brought her lips to yours.  It was different from all those times in the past when you’d kissed either of them.  Normally, when you kissed Natasha it was either because she’d been injured, and then it was wet and desperate and there was the spark that passed from you to her.  Or it was a lead into sex and it was passionate and hungry.  This was soft and tender.  Her lips landed on either side of your lower lip and she very slowly pressed them down as she pulled back.  You had never felt so much love poured into a kiss as in that kiss between you and Natasha just then.  It made your heart tighten up and your hand instinctively moved to her jaw.  She smiled as she pulled back and as you looked into her eyes.  It felt like your heart skipped a beat and right then in that moment, you felt yourself beginning to fall in love with Natasha Romanoff.

// NEXT

[amateur-authorial-aspirations]

Another short story! It's about the same length as the last one, around 3k words. I don't have a title for this one, though.

Not sure what trigger warnings to add for this but uh it's about a family that's kinda broken and a mom that was very neglectful, and there's stuff about sickness and hospitals. Oh and food.

~~~~~~~~~~

The only thing I wanted to inherit from my mother was the recipe for her chicken soup.

My mom—well, she did her best with us, I guess, but her best mostly involved working long nights at a lousy job and occasionally showing up at school events to clap for us. The rest of the time, she was either drinking Bud Lights out on the porch or passed out from some combination of exhaustion and intoxication, sprawled on her bed or wherever she happened to collapse. I'd put a blanket over her, sometimes, but usually I was too busy cooking dinner, or helping my younger siblings with their homework, or doing one of the million other things that wouldn't get done unless I did them.

The one thing she always got right, though, was when I was sick. She had crazy good hearing, like an owl or something, and if I so much as sneezed, in an instant she'd have me tucked into bed and a pot of chicken soup on the stove. That soup—dear God, my mouth still waters just thinking about it. It was like she took carrots and celery and a chicken straight from the dirt of a farm somewhere and cooked it in, I don't know, the tears of an angel. A little salty, and just heavenly. And the whole time I was sick, whether puking my guts up in the bathroom or just sniffling a little, she was the perfect mother—she picked Brett and Ashley up from school, cooked three meals a day, helped them with their homework, everything.

Even years and decades after I'd moved as far from her as I could get, whenever I was sick, I'd get an awful hankering for that chicken soup. I'd whine and moan and throw a feeble, snotty tantrum until someone made some for me, and my husband tried, bless his soul, but it just wasn't the same. Sometimes I'd try, too, once I was feeling better, but it was never as good as my mom's, no matter what I did. I thought about calling and asking her once or twice, usually when a bout of illness coincided with a fight with my kids. I'd be aching and shivering, feeling bad enough about my own parenting that I could almost forgive her, and when the craving hit, I'd start to reach for the phone, but—

No. I'd worked so hard to get her out of my head, and I didn't know if I could do it all over again.

I remember it was raining the day Ashley called with the news. I could tell she was upset right away, but when she told me why, I almost dropped the phone.

"Hello?" she said, her voice choked. "Kathy, you still there?"

"Yeah," I rasped, "I'm here. I… I don't know what to say. I mean, cancer? God. Is she okay?"

"Yes. For now, at least. We don't know how long she'll stay that way, though."

"I don't know what to say," I repeated. It was true; I felt like someone had stuck my brain in a freezer.

"Say you'll come see her. And before you say no—"

"What? No. Absolutely not."

"Before you say no, think about how much it would mean to her. And to me. To all of us. We could finally be a family again, you know? One last time."

"I'm not putting myself through that so you can get our family picture taken, Ash."

"Come on, Kathy. I know you're mad at her, but—"

"I'm not mad. I just don't owe her anything."

"But—"

"And I don't owe you anything, either."

"Okay, that is not—"

I hung up. Then I threw my phone at the couch. It rang a moment later, but I just took a deep breath in, let it out slowly, and walked out of the room, the tinny music fading as I closed the door behind me. Then it started again.

Brett called about an hour later. I let it ring.

He understood a little better than Ashley, I think, but she was his little sister, the baby of the family. I was sure he'd side with her.

But, after a long talk with my husband and a couple days of stewing, I decided to go after all. I might not have owed my mother anything, but I owed it to myself to not leave any questions hanging. Besides, if she was really dying… it felt bad, felt heartless, to refuse to visit an old, sick woman.

Brett met me at the airport, a box of chocolate in hand.

"Nate with the kids?" he asked.

"Yeah. Those for Mom?"

"No," he said with a small chuckle, "for you."

I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Honestly, Kathy, you're a saint. I don't know if I'd have come, if I were you."

"You did come, though."

"Yeah, but it wasn't the same for me. Or Ashley. You know that better than I do."

"Well, I'm not here for Mom, anyway."

It was Brett's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I mean, I'm here to see her, but it's for me."

"And for Ashley?"

"And kinda for Ashley."

We both laughed a little. Then he handed me the chocolate and started loading my suitcases into the trunk of his car.

When we pulled up to the house, Ashley ran out to greet me, but Brett pulled her aside as I went around to the back of the car. I couldn't hear what he said, but her face sank. She nodded tightly and went back inside.

I tugged my suitcase up over the curb and pulled it down a concrete pathway that cut through calf-height grass and weeds to the front of Ashley's one-story, vinyl-sided house that had been painted in a shade of yellow so bright it turned my stomach, though I'm sure my sister thought it "sunny" or some such thing. Part of the roof was sagging on one side.

Looking at that house, part of me couldn't help feeling guilty. I mean, I wasn't rich, and Ashley and her family certainly weren't starving, but it was hard not to draw comparisons to my own home, spacious and immaculate and halfway across the country, and wonder if there wasn't more I should be doing. Not that she'd accept assistance if I offered it; if anything, she'd just get angry, and things between us were already so tense... but, still. I didn't think there would ever come a day that I saw her struggling and didn't want to help.

Lost in thought, I walked in the door and headed straight for the rear of the house, almost passing the small living room on the right, but then a quiet cough sounded. I whipped my head toward the noise, freezing in place as I took in the hospital bed that been set up where a couch used to be. Took in its white-haired occupant.

After a moment, I cleared my throat. "Hi, Mom."

She looked so tiny and fragile lying there, her feet barely reaching halfway down the bed, her skin pale and papery. Nothing like the hard-drinking, loud-talking woman who had stomped through my childhood with the force of a bulldozer, hurtling herself headfirst at anything that dared to stand in her way. No, there was no sign of that woman in this dimly lit room that smelled of sickness and floral air freshener.

"Hi, Kathy," said this person I no longer recognized. "It's so good to see you."

"Wish I could say the same," I blurted before I could think better of it, but she just laughed, a dry, gravelly chuckle that ended in a hacking cough.

"Well," she said after a minute, when she was breathing normally again, "I can't say I was expecting much better, after everything I put you through. And I guess that's what I get for smoking so damn much."

"Wait." My face screwed up in confusion. "Since when did you smoke?"

"Oh, it was a long time ago. I tried to quit for years, but it never stuck until I got pregnant with you. I guess knowing I had someone else depending on me was the push I needed."

I let out a sharp bark of laughter, once again reacting without thinking and immediately wishing I'd kept my mouth shut. Not because I hadn't meant it; I had, but it wasn't like me, to be so sarcastic and mean-spirited. This tired, bitter woman was just as foreign to me as the little old lady she was mocking.

"Sorry," I said. "I'm sure you thought that was a heart-warming story about one time you actually did take care of me, but that's the thing, right? You did get it right sometimes. Which means the rest of the time… that was a choice. And I could forgive you for being weak or sick or crazy, but you weren't any of those things. Like, when I was sick, you were always so good. And I'd eat your chicken soup, and I'd think, maybe this time. Maybe this time she'll keep it up. But then I'd get better, and you'd go right back to leaving us to fend for ourselves, and it would hurt even worse because I knew what it felt like to be taken care of. You know I've got kids now, right? I'm sure Ashley's told you. So I know what it feels like, when you're tired down to your bones and you don't know how to keep going. But still, every single day, I choose to go on anyway, to be there for my kids, because I love them too much not too. So either you just didn't love us enough, or you did, and you still chose not to take care of us. I don't know which it is, or which would be worse. But I know I can't forgive you."

The words had all come out in a rush, as if some long-stoppered bottle of feelings inside me had suddenly come pouring from my lips, getting bigger and angrier as I went, and I had to stop for a second, take a deep breath in, let it out slowly.

"So," I went on, more calmly now, "I'll be here for a week. We'll play nice, for Ashley and her kids, and because we are civilized people. And I really am sorry about what you're going through. But when I leave, I don't want to hear from you again, and I don't want you bothering Ashley about me."

With that, I turned on my heel, not waiting for a reply, and marched down the hall to the guest room.

Only after I closed the door and collapsed onto the bed did I think about who else might have been in the house. I really hoped Ashley's kids hadn't overheard my tirade. Or Ashley herself, for that matter. I didn't like this nasty streak my mother brought out in me, and whatever my feelings for her, being a good sister and aunt was more important.

But when I emerged a little while later, cool and composed and determined to stay that way, I found everyone gathered around the big wooden table in the kitchen, Ashley presiding over it all with a wooden spoon and a hearty laugh.

Her eyes lit up when she saw me in the doorway. "Kathy! Come in, come over here." She was beaming as I made my way past the treacherous tangle of cooking implements brandished by small hands to where she stood at the stove, stirring a sizzling pan of vegetables. "So," she said in a low voice, one that no one else would hear over the general hubbub, "things went well with Mom? Brett seemed to think there'd be some… unpleasantness, but she said you guys talked? Worked things out?"

I cast a wary glance to where my mom sat at the table between Brett and Ashley's husband Blake, but her attention was fully occupied by her grandchildren and the silly song they were singing as they worked on their "cooking."

"Yeah," I said with a small, sad smile, "I guess we did." And we had, I supposed, if not in the way Ashley hoped.

The rest of the visit flew by in a whirl of babysitting and doctor's visits and pasted-on smiles. Before I knew it, the last day had arrived. My flight out was scheduled for late afternoon, but I woke early, intending to take a walk in the cool darkness just before sunrise, for the fresh air and exercise and much-needed time to myself. But when I went to open the front door, something felt off, and I realized I couldn't hear the snoring that that had echoed through the small house every night this week.

With a gasp, I turned and rushed to my mother's side. "Ashley!" I shouted as I fumbled for the switch on the lamp and tried to remember what little first aid I knew. Running footsteps clattered along the floor, then stopped somewhere behind me. "Ashley, I don't think she's breathing."

"Oh, dear God," said Ashley, and then her phone was out and she was talking to someone.

The minutes that passed before the ambulance arrived felt like seconds and hours and days all at once. Blake was there, he was doing something I vaguely recognized as CPR, but I had no idea if it was working. Then it was flashing lights and paramedics in uniforms and Ashley had to stay with the kids so I was the one climbing into the back of the ambulance, and the siren was blaring as we raced through the streets and swerved around corners, everything swaying and rattling as I clung desperately to my mother's hand.

When we got to the hospital, they carted her off through a set of swinging doors, and all too soon it was just me, standing alone under the fluorescent lights, shaking. The air around me seemed to pulse, and the too-clean antiseptic smell of the hallway had me ready to vomit.

I don't know how long I stood there, staring in shock at the big red letters on the smooth metal doors. NO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL BEYOND THIS POINT. It felt like forever.

But it couldn't have been more than a few minutes before Brett was there, wrapping me in his jacket and leading me to a chair. I think there were tears in his eyes, but I was too numb to cry. Or to talk. So we just sat there in silence, his arms around me, until Ashley came in with a million questions that I couldn't even process, much less answer. Everything the paramedics and doctors said had shot right past me in a blur of unintelligible sound. Ashley seemed about ready to shake me in frustration, but Brett took her to look for the doctors who would have the answers I couldn't give her. He left me his jacket, but I still missed his comforting warmth.

A few hours later, I was sitting on a hard plastic chair in a cold, drab room, watching over my mother as she slept. She looked even stranger now, with her face all calm and peaceful, content in a way I had never seen her before. In my lap was a tray from the hospital cafeteria, a styrofoam bowl of steaming-hot soup at its center.

Suddenly, her eyes fluttered open, and I leapt to my feet in excitement, launching the tray from my lap and dumping the soup all over the floor.

"Ah!" I exclaimed, looking frantically around the room for something with which to mop up the rapidly spreading puddle of broth. "I'm so sorry, I just wanted to bring you soup, like you always used to make me when I was sick, and I know it's not the same, but I just thought… well, and now I've gone and made a mess of it, haven't I?" My gaze locked on the box of tissues on the bedside table, and I practically lunged for them, but I was stopped by a gentle touch on my arm.

"Forget about the mess, Kathy, just come sit next to me." My mother gestured to the chair that was closest to her bed, and I sat down obediently. She let out a small, quiet laugh. "Goodness, I'd almost forgotten about the chicken soup."

"I don't know what you put in it, but that soup was the best thing I ever tasted."

She looked up at me sharply, confusion etched in the lines of her face. "What?"

"Don't worry, I'm just reminiscing, not trying to weasel any secret ingredients out of you."

This time, her laugh was raucous. "Secret ingredients? Kathy, the only secret ingredient in that stuff was a can of chicken soup from the supermarket."

Now I was the confused one. "What?"

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry if you thought I was making some special family recipe, but you must've got that idea from some fever dream. Don't you remember what a terrible cook I am? The only things I could ever make came out of cans or boxes or little plastic packets."

After a moment, I couldn't help but laugh as well. "Yeah, that sounds about right. I probably should've known."

I ended up missing my flight and staying for an extra week. Mostly, I stayed at the house, helping Ashley with chores or the kids, but I visited the hospital a few times, too.

When I finally got home, a small, white envelope was waiting for me in the mailbox, my name and address scrawled across the back. Careful not to tear it, I peeled open the flap and pulled out a single sheet of lined paper covered in the same messy handwriting.

Mom's Chicken Soup

Ingredients:

1 12-oz can of condensed chicken soup

1 canful of water

Combine ingredients in saucepan and heat over medium high, stirring occasionally, until warm and bubbling slightly. Let cool to your desired temperature and serve with a side of high fever and delirium.

On the back was a brief note.

Thought you should have at least one family recipe.

With a small smile, I tucked the paper back into the envelope and turned to go inside, my heart feeling strangely light and heavy at the same time. And as I looked up to see my two beautiful, wonderful children come running out to greet me, I couldn't help feeling that my front door was not the only one that had just been opened.

[the-fiction-witch]

The Other Harmon P6-P10

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY WATTS X READER RATING: SMUT

Part 6: Home alone

I sat at home thinking, as usual, trying to imagine anything and yet nothing. Beth and our adoptive mother were out likely shopping again. I got up going and locking the door sitting back on my bed and quietly sneaking out the little shoe box and tipping it out in my bed, newspaper clippings and magazine pages fluttering onto my sheets the mere sight of a cover of chess review made my tummy bubble-like getting a thousand kisses, my head spin like my mind was a spinning top, my thoughts turning to mush as I laid on my stomach going through pictures and articles reading things here and there humming my little tune as I did all of it making my stomach and slightly lower seem to almost throb in some way like a terrible ache that still felt exhausting I put some of my things away laying under my covers pushing my petticoats away to try and find the source of his ache but the closer I got the more my brain began to imagine.

Part 7 : Imagination

'"well, well, what's this then? Have I stumbled upon a very beautiful girl in such a very naughty position, Ummm I think I have" Benny smirked leaning on my bedpost looking at me dressed as I last saw him when he had been playing my sister for a long time and had removed his jacket and his hat leaving him in his jeans and green unbuttoned shirt "don't worry, I locked the door after me" he winked

"What? What are you doing here Benny?'

"Well I came to visit your sister, give her some championship news but... I guess she's not here" he smirked, kneeling on my bed "I suppose I should get going, but I think my little girl needs to answer me honestly again?"

"Answer what?" I asked nervously

"Does it feel good?" He whispered in my ear and I nodded "good, what a dirty little girl touching her pretty little self, but I want it honestly y/n what are you thinking about?"

"Nothing-"

"Liar, what is my beautiful girl thinking about when she touched her pretty little pussy?" He smirked moving closer and closer until he was laid next to me in my bed but I didn't answer he simply picked up one of the clippings from my bed he saw it and smirked more before looking back to me "don't worry our little secret" he smirked kissing my cheek "but you won't be having these anymore" he said throwing it off my bed "not now you've got me?"

"Benny what are you-"

"Shhhh... quiet what if beth comes home and finds us up here, together in your bed, umm she would get very cross wouldn't she?" He smirked kissing down my neck and across my chest any skin exposed he was kissing "umm you've become such a beautiful girl y/n, I can't keep my hands off" he smirked "in fact, I don't think I will" he smirked his hand starting to touch me he gently and softly making me almost squeal "aww does that feel good?" He playfully smirked

"Benny please i-"

"What's wrong? Doesn't my pretty little girl want to finish? Doesn't she wanna feel amazing, and have me touching her forever?"

"I do but Benny I not sure I can, I never have before"

"Never? Ohh well now I really can't stop can I? How could I say no to giving my pretty girl her first?"

"Benny-" I gasped holding him tightly

"Shhhh it's okay, just relax and let me make you feel good" he smirked moving to sit over me pulling back the covers and my skirt and petticoats gently playing with me "uumm look how wet you are? Your so ready for me little lady"

"Ready for you?" I asked

"Don't you know that's why you get all wet? You get wet when your all excited and you do that because this pretty pussy knows I'm gonna wanna fuck it if your all excited"

"Benny!" I said in shock

"Ohh? What did you not want me inside you? Filling you up till it can't take any more of me? Having me bury myself deep inside you? Stretching your pretty pussy so it's perfect for me?" He growled between kisses I was feeling an edge and I couldn't bare anything stopping

"Of course I would" I blushed

"Well if you a good girl and cum on my hand, I'll fuck you, that a deal?" He asks and I nodded "that's my girl" he smirked getting faster and faster "ummm scream for me, little girl"

"I can't what if Beth's back"

"I don't care if beth hears us, I wanna hear you squeal so desperate for me, I wanna hear my name from your lips when you cum, I want everyone to know what my dirty little girl is up to and who she's imagining when she does" he growled biting my neck as I hit a massive wall of pleasure'

"Uuuhhh!! Uughhh! Benny!! BENNY!" I squealed

'"awww you look so cute when you cum" he smiled kissing my cheek letting me ride it out "shhhh it's okay it's normal to be a little tired after. Remember if you need me you know where I am" he smiled kissing me softly'

I laid in bed surrounded by some of my pictures from magazines my tummy still felt bubbly but a different kind

"Y/n we're home!" Mother yells from downstairs

"Hi" I yelled back my voice a little strange

"You alright dear?"

"Fine" I answered quickly getting up and putting everything says hiding any evidence unlocking my door

"Hey what did you do all day?" Beth asks as she came in with her things

"Nothing" I smiled.

Part 8 : Honeydew

I stood Looking at the boards trying to see what was happening today and who was playing who.

"My, my hello honeydew"

"I'm sorry you must have me confused with someone else," I said trying to go

"No I don't rather think I do," he said holding my wrist next I knew I was pulled close to the one and only Benny watts. I tried to force myself to think straight trying desperately to bury the thoughts of him I have been having since last I saw him in person

"B-benny, it uhh it's nice to see you" I blushed moving away a little

"It's nice to see you too honeydew"

"I'm sorry? When did you start calling me honeydew?"

"Right now" he shrugs "I kinda like it, suits you"

"Does it?"

"Yeah your like the sweetest thing in the world" he smiled "you've... grown"

"Ohh thank you" I smiled

"You... you look beautiful," he says

"Aww Benny that's so sweet of you" I smiled

"ohh I've got to go, but promise me you'll meet me later I really Wanna talk to you"

"Sure, I promise" I smiled

"That's my girl, see you later honeydew" he smiled, kissing my head before he ran off to play.

Part 9 : Propersition

I could barely wait, barely containing my excitement at the meet idea Benny watts wanted to talk to me, not just passing conversation he wanted to go out his way to spend time with me, I wonder what it was he wanted to talk about. I waited by his last game s beth was already thought to the next round and up in her room I sat watched as the game finished and he got up heading out of the room, I followed curiously but as I turned the corner I couldn't find him but suddenly arms were around me and I almost screamed in fear but I saw quickly it was just Benny

"You scared me" I complained hitting him gently with my handbag

"Sorry, so I'm all done for today, you wanna go chat now?" He asks and I nodded so he lead me to the lift and we got inside

"Where are we going?" I asked as the door closed

"My room," he said I pinched myself to check I wasn't imagining it but it was real I then started running through every other word in the English language that I might possibly have confused it for until the doors opened and he leads me down to a room unlocking the door and letting me inside. It was a nice little room with a double bed some various hotel furniture most of it covered with benny's scattered belongings "oohh uhh sorry about the mess" he says quickly cleaning up a little

"It's alright" I smiled "but why did we come up here?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you," he says sitting in his bed and tapping the mattress beside him "sorry, I know it's a little odd I just didn't want people listening in, or reporters about I'm sure you know what they're like" he explained and I nodded that made much more sense and I'm not gonna lie I didn't care the reason the thrill alone of being in Benny Watts' hotel room was insane

"So what did you wanna talk about?" I asked

"Ahh yeah, I have a little... proposition to offer you honeydew"

"Oh?"

"You know how you said about Austin?"

"Yes"

"Well... I'm going in a couple of months, and I was wondering whether you wanted to come with me?"

"Benny you mean it?'

"Of course I do"

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" I smiled hugging him insanely tightly "ohh sorry" I said moving away

"Aww no worries honeydew" he laughs "so I've already got the plane tickets and the hotel sorted all booked and ready, but... there is one little catch"

"What is it?" I asked

"In order to even be a guest at the hotel you have to be part of the tournament, or you can have plus ones but they have to have the same last name," he explained "so, if you want to come... you have to play"

"But Benny I've never played before except against you and Beth, I can't go against chess champions"

"Y/n trust me, you can I know you can,"

"Can't we just fake the last name thing? Pretend I'm your sister? Or wife?'

"You think anyone is going to believe that, for one thing half the chess world knows your Beth's sister, and oddly enough don't you think it would have been news if I got married?"

"I guess, Benny I don't know..."

"Please y/n, for me honeydew?"

"Well... okay" I nodded

"Yes, that's my girl!' he smiled grabbing my face and kissing my cheek rather hard so much I could hear the clack of the kiss but we both froze "I am so sorry y/n"

"No, no it's uhh it's okay benny" I blushed "don't worry about it" I smiled "so austin?"

"Right yeah, uhh so we fly out on the seventh tournament starts on the sixteenth, should be home by the nineteenth" he explained

"Why are we there so early?" I asked

"To prepare and practice, and... so you can explore austin a little with me"

"What about the flight's?" I asked "am I going to be on the plane all by myself?"

Unfortunately the flight out, yes your going to have to be there by yourself but I'll meet you at the airport in austin, home it's the same flight home so you'll come into new York with me maybe we'll stay at my apartment there for a couple of days just while everything cools down" he explained and I blushed more the mere idea of it all, a holiday across the country without any of my family, just me and Benny, on planes together in a hotel together, then back to his apartment for a few days I could have melted into a puddle of excitement

"Uuuhh Benny?" I finally got the courage to ask "what's the situation with the hotel?"

"Ahh well as I said you can't be a guest unless you're competing or a same last name guess. And... I kinda messed up a little when I was making the forms"

"Oh?"

"It's one room, for the two of us, I'm sorry I didn't realize until after and then I tried to call and change it but by then the hotel was full with everyone else from the tournament" he explained "it's okay I mean really we'll be exploring and working most of the trip the room will really just be for sleeping, but they assured me it had two beds" he says

"I'm sure it'll be fine" I smiled internally screaming at the mere idea of sharing a hotel room with him he gave me all the things I needed and he'd send the tickets and such thought soon as they were likely already in his mailbox at home

"Ooh and one last thing" he says grabbing a note and a pen from the table scribbling something and then handing it to me folded up

"What is it?" I asked

"The number for my apartment, Incase something changes and you need to get hold of me... or of course if you just fancy talking to me?"

"Thank you Benny" I smiled giving his cheek a little kiss

"Your welcome honeydew" he smiled.

Part 10 : Letter

I hid my most recent letter away in my shoebox under my bed with everything I needed for my trip and all the other things I wanted to hide,

"What's this?" I heard beth ask from leaning in the door in her usual dress and hair tie she was holding a letter

"A uhh a letter," I said

"Yeah, a letter" she smiled "Mom accidentally put it in my pile, not in yours," she says

"Ohh well accidents happen," I said going to take it but she shut the door locking it

"Little sister, I want the Truth, what is this letter?"

"Well I don't know until I open it"

"No... you already know. You know exactly what is in this letter and exactly who it's from"

"Do I? I seem to know a lot I must be very smart"

"You have never gotten mail, you only started getting letters after my last championship," she says "who are they from?"

"Well, I don't know until I open-"

"It's from New York. Who do you know in new york?"

"I'm not sure maybe you read it wrong or it is junk mail or wrong address" I explain "or maybe it is your beth after all"

"Open it" she says offering it to me "open it and read it to me"

"No,"

"Why? What's in it you don't want me to know? Should I take it down to mom?"

"No, give it" I said so she handed it to me the moment I had it in my hand I knew everything the handwriting the style of the envelope the new york postal stamp I knew what it was but I couldn't get out of this, she was going to find out sooner or later, I opened it and before I could even finish she snatched it from my hand and began to read

"Dearest honeydew,

I have to admit I'm counting the days until Austin" she reads

"Beth please-"

"I already have a few ideas of spots I want to take you before the start of the championship. In closed you will find some money, I know you've been saving up for a new dress for Austin so I figured I'd give you a hand out if my last prince money" she explained her face dropping from the look of joy at her sisterly jokes to genuine concern

"Beth please just listen-"

"I feel so terrible about abandoning you for the flight but remember I'll be in the airport when you get there, and I rang the hotel to ask about our room and they said they didn't know about the view so I guess it's a surprise when we get there, talk soon

X BW'

"Y/n what is this? What's going on?"

"It's nothing-"

"Nothing! I am your sister, tell me. And tell me the truth"

"What do you want to know?" I sighed sitting in my bed

"Well we'll start at the beginning," she says sitting on her own "Honeydew?"

"It's what he calls me, like a... nickname"

"Counting the days till Austin? Is that talking about the southern championship tournament in Austin next month?" She asks and I nodded "money? Y/n there is almost two hundred dollars in here"

"I didn't know about that, honest I didn't that's as new to you as it is to me"

"Hotel room? One hotel room?"

"There was a mix-up-"

"I don't wanna hear it, who is this, who has this much prize money, and plays chess championships and is taking you to Austin with him?" She asks

"Beth please-"

"Who is it? I know who it is?" She says "BW.. brain Westen, Bolton Warwick...be- BENNY WATTS!"

"Beth please it's not what it looks like"

"Benny's older than both of us y/n you can't be serious!"

"Beth please just let me explain it's not as bad as it looks"

"Fine... explain" she sighed

"Look we talked a lot of letters on the phone, he always comes to see me at tournaments. We're just friends there's nothing else going on I promise. He wanted to take me to Austin with him for the championship so he paid for my ticket and the hotel, but there was a mix-up and it's only one room, but it's single beds he promised. I swear there's nothing else going on you have believed me"

"Friends don't pay for someone's cross country trip for no reason, what did he make you promise in return?"

"What?"

"Y/n only enough I play against him enough I know what he's like he won't give something for nothing it's always a trade with Benny now what did he make you promise?"

"To play in the championship..."

"To play? You've never played chess in your life, not properly there's no way I believe it"

"It's true"

"Even if it was the prize money isn't enough to cover the both of you, so he's still losing money which means as Benny sees it you still owe him, but he won't tell you that till you're already in his trap! He'll wait till your in Austin with no money and no way home and spring a little something else to repay him on you I know he will''

"Just because you hate him!"

"I'm trying to protect you, it's obvious you're still lying to me, knowone starts a letter with a nickname like that-"

"Benny does"

"No no one knows if the only time someone writes like that is if it's a pet name, and honeydew does rather sound like something pet name ish" she explained "what did he say it's because you're sweet? His sweet little honeydew? You do realize what it means right?"

"No?"

"What are Honeydew y/n?"

"Fruit..."

"What kind?"

"Melons"

"And when guys say melons they don't mean fruit they mean your boobs,' he explained "and you think I believe nothing's going on"

"Call him," I said

"What?"

"Here" I sighed, getting my box of stuff and getting the number "Benny's number. Ring him yourself and ask him, beth I swear to you, I didn't know about the money, I didn't know about that name, all I knew was that he's nice to me. And he makes me happy, we haven't done anything I swear, he kisses my hand sometimes and last I saw him he kissed my cheek but it was an accident he didn't mean to" I explain she looked at me a while before she folded the letter putting it back in the envelope and handing them to be with the number

"I believe you, just... be careful with Benny. He's good at getting what he wants." She says going and unlocking the door "you should probably start packing it's a long trip" she says.