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oumaheroes · 3 years

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All Tied Up

Word Count: 2479

Characters: England, France- FrUK

---

‘What the fuck are those?’

France sighed from where he was hanging up his clothes in his hotel wardrobe, ‘Good evening to you too. Why are you in my room, already, Arthur? I only arrived half an hour ago, couldn’t you let me exist without your presence for just a few moments more?’

He hadn’t heard him come in; France didn’t think he’d left the door to his hotel open. Although, England did have a bad habit of quietly entering places rather too well for his liking, ‘It’s bad enough that I will have to endure so much of you this week.’

‘Fuck off. I was hungry, so I came to see if you’d eaten.’

France turned back to his open suitcase for another shirt, ‘And?’

England frowned at him, ‘And?’

‘And,’ France prompted, slipping his favourite dress shirt onto a hanger. It was wrinkled; he hoped there was a decent iron here, ‘what were you going to do then?’

England huffed at him, as if, somehow, he France was being the difficult one, ‘And if you hadn’t, I was going to go with you.’

‘Could you not ask me to dinner like a normal person?’

England ignored him and nodded his head to the top of France’s temporary wardrobe, ‘Why have you got those?’

France followed his eyeline, stepping back when he couldn’t see anything. A few paces back and beside England he could see there, right at the back and on the top shelf of the wardrobe, were a pair of handcuffs.

‘Bit lewd for a week-long conference, init?’

France raised an eyebrow at him, ‘Do you really think I’d be that crass for those to be mine?’ England said nothing but his look became a lot more pointed. A beat of silence later and France shrugged, ‘Fine. But those ones are not.’

‘Of course.’

‘Why on earth would I lie about that.’

England shrugged, ‘Why do you do most of what you do? I never know.’

‘No, because you’re far too dim.’

‘Dim? Coming from the bellend who takes handcuffs to a NATO summit in Toronto.’

‘They’re not mine- what are you doing?’

England had moved around him and crossed the room towards the wardrobe and was now reaching up to the back to grab the handcuffs. France looked at them in his hands and then around his temporary room in distain, ‘I can’t stay here anymore, who knows what else they missed cleaning.’

France imagined that poor Canada was probably stressed enough as it was hosting this thing and likely didn’t need any additional work, but the idea of sleeping in a bed that might not have been changed was not something that appealed to him in the slightest. If the handcuffs were missed by the cleaners who knew what else they had failed to catch.

England tutted, ‘Don’t be such a baby.’

‘I hardly think me caring about my personal hygiene is me being a baby.’

‘You’ve slept in worse.’ England paused, ‘You’ve left worse.’

France opened his mouth to retort but England made an approving sound, opening the cuff wider, ‘These are pretty good quality, you know.’

France rolled his eyes, ‘Oh, and you would know.’ England turned them over and France sniffed, tucking his hair behind his ears, ‘Put those back, they’re probably filthy.’

‘No, I mean they look like they’re law enforcement rather than… well. Not.’

France stepped closer, ‘No look, they’re too flimsy.’ He pointed to the chain that connected the two cuffs, ‘and those are incredibly out of date- surely your police don’t still use these?’

England flushed, ‘Of course not! But I’ve seen a few of these about recently.’

‘Really? And how many decades ago was that? Twenty? Thirty?’

England waved a hand airily, ‘I don’t know, thereabouts maybe.’

‘You’re a fool.’

France made to take them from him but England pulled back sharply, ‘What are you doing?’

France blinked at his suspicious tone, ‘What are you doing? You’re not going to keep them, are you?’

‘No!’ England’s cheeks burned scarlet, ‘No of course not, but you reached for them so suddenly-‘

‘And what?’ France leant back and put a hand on his hip, ‘You thought I was attacking you?’

England scowled, ‘Well, it wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?’

‘Oh that is rich coming from you-‘

‘What’s that supposed to mean!’

‘You know full well what that means- look, just give them here.’ France lunged forwards, hoping to tug them out of England’s hands but England jumped away reflexively. Maybe he’d judged the angle wrong, or maybe England had tripped him somehow- either way France fell too sharply onto him and England gave a surprised yelp.

Click.

They froze, France with both hands balled in England’s shirt to keep him upright. One of them now had a shiny, very solid looking, handcuff around it.

They both stared at it in silence.

England gave a choked laugh and tried to cover it as a cough, ‘Francis, I swear I-‘

‘You arsehole!’

France shoved himself off and England held up his hands placatingly, ‘I swear I didn’t do that on purpose.’

‘Oh of course you didn’t!’ France held out his handcuffed arm out on front of him and shook it at England aggressively, ‘Take this off! Take it off right now!’

‘Okay okay, calm the fuck down, Jesus Christ.’

‘Calm? Calm? You tell me to be calm? I just got off a nine-hour flight only to be handcuffed by you of all people half an hour after I get in my fucking hotel? And you’re telling me to be calm?’

England, who had gone back to the wardrobe to feel about the top shelf, let out a soft, ‘ah’.

France laughed and shook his head, ‘No. No no, no don’t tell me there’s no key. Don’t you damn well dare.’

England, now that the initial shock of the situation had worn off, was clearly trying to hide that he was enjoying France’s predicament, ‘there’s no key.’

France threw a clothing hanger at him.

----

Two hours later, and things were no better.

France, (reasonably, he thought), refused to leave the room until the handcuffs were off and refused to let England leave the room until he’d fixed the problem that he’d created. England could agree that yes, maybe he had some part to play in all of this, but really it was France’s fault for lunging at him so suddenly and only agreed to stay if they ordered dinner first.

So, aside from a break to eat, France angrily chewing through a delivered meal he’d demanded England pay for in stony silence, they spent the time pulling apart the room and crawling to places France would never admit to crawling just in case the key had managed to slip down into some long-forgotten corner.

They’d both turned everything inside and out, upturning all of the drawers and taking off all of the bedding, but no luck. The wardrobe itself was fixed to the wall with no holes a key could have slipped through, so eventually France had to admit defeat and concede that there was no key to be found.

England, to his credit, did try to hold it together commendably well and had only let a euphoric grin slip through twice, both times of which he’d covered by burying his face behind something and pretending to cough until he’d smothered his glee enough to reappear with a blank expression. However, any time his eyes were caught by the glinting mental hideously shackled around France’s wrist, the corners of his mouth would twitch in a way that made France want to immediately wound him with the nearest blunt object.

Sadly for France, England was his best chance at getting him out of the current situation and so committing assault upon him was not the best resolution to his current troubles.

‘You’re going to have to do it,’ France said eventually after he’d finished rechecking a drawer England had already searched, (one could never be entirely sure that England was taking this seriously- being an almighty annoyance to France was one of his favourite pastimes, after all, and France didn’t want to assume the glimmer of remorse he had seen was genuine.)

‘Do what?’

‘Oh, don’t play the fool; get me out.’

England made a derisive noise, ‘Oh yes, sorry, let me just pull the key out of my ar-‘

‘No,’ France tutted at him and shifted through his suitcase to find his toiletry bag, ‘You may pretend to Australia that you do not know how to pick locks but we both know that you do¸ and seeing as there is no key and I am stuck here I’m sure you can pretend to forget that lie for just the moment.’

England snorted and took a hairpin that France offered him, ‘You have been watching far too many Hollywood films.’

France put a hand on a hip, ‘Can you do it or not.’

England bristled, ‘Of course I can. But hairpins like this aren’t exactly the bes-‘

France interrupted him with a shake of the wrist, ‘Do you see this still attached to me? I really do not care. Get me out.’

Muttering very gruesome sounding things under his breath, England pushed France down to sit on the bed and crouched before him, positioning France’s wrist upturned on his knees.

France nudged him gently with his foot and raised his eyebrows suggestively, ‘You didn’t have to handcuff me to get me here, you know.’

England swatted him away and looked at him in disgust, ‘Don’t you start.’ He bent apart the hairpin and worked it into the lock, twisting it slightly, ‘I wouldn’t want to anyway, you smell like plane.’

‘Oh! Oh, darling do tell me why that is. Hmm? Is it because I haven’t had the chance to shower yet, because I was attacked before I had even finished unpacking?’ He ran his free hand through England’s hair, ‘Why is this so long? Have you not had it cut since I last did it?’

England squinted at the handcuff and didn’t look up, ‘No, I’ve been busy.’ He twisted the hairpin and it made a very hopeful clicking sound, but nothing happened and England went back to jiggling it ever so slightly into different positions, ‘You can do it whilst we’re here.’

France huffed, ‘And what makes you think I can?’

‘You always take scissors with you.’

‘No, I meant what makes you think that I will.’ He brushed England’s fringe back from his forehead, measuring out its length between his fingers, ‘Just because I-‘

They both jumped, startled, as the door to France’s room burst open unexpectedly to reveal America in the doorway, ‘Yo Francis, we’re all going out to- what the fuck are you doing?!’

England’s head popped up and suddenly France could see all too clearly how this scene looked to America’s eyes: France, a fist buried in England’s hair and England crouched on his knees in front of him, head bent close to his lap.

England locked eyes with him, an expression of shock on his face, before flicking to America framed and frozen in the doorway. He held up a hand placatingly, ‘No it’s okay, they’re just handcuffs!’

‘Oh God!’ America clapped a hand over his eyes, ‘No way man, I do not wanna see that! Jesus, what is wrong with the both of you? Have you heard of locking the door?’

‘No!’ England stood up suddenly. He didn’t let go of the handcuff and the movement jerked up France’s arm roughly, causing him to give a cry of pain. England dropped his arm in horror, ‘It’s really not what it looks like.’

‘Okay, sure dude, whatever,’ still with his hand over his eyes, America backed away out into the corridor, ‘I’ll let everyone know you can’t come because you’re both occupied.’

‘No!’ France and England both shouted in unison but it was no use, America slammed the door and they could hear him running down the corridor in the direction of the stairs.

France sighed through his nose, ‘Well, that went well.’

----

England did eventually spring France loose. After turning off his phone and forcing France to silence his own and not touch it (they kept beeping, America worked fast at spreading the news) he managed to work his way into the lock after chewing it into more of a sharp point and bending it into ridiculous angles.

‘There you go, they can’t have been official handcuffs,’ France rubbed his wrist, relishing the feeling of the metal being gone, and picked up the handcuffs to turn them over, ‘police handcuffs wouldn’t be that easy to pick.’

England snorted and brushed down his trousers, ‘Or, maybe I’m rather good at it.’

France did pretend to politely consider this for a second, ‘Or, your police have never had quality handcuffs, which really does make your government’s further reduction of their budget particularly sad. What will they use next, cable ties?’

England scowled, ‘Is that any way to talk to someone who just freed you from handcuffs?’

‘Yes, if that same person put me in them.’

England gave a bark of laughter, ‘I’m sure you’ve done something recently to deserve it.’

France hmm’d and stood up to join him, ‘I’m glad your alternate reality entertains you.’ He stepped up to England, grabbing his wrist and tugging him closer with one hand before bringing the other to rest on the small of his back.

‘What are you-‘

France swiftly kissed him silent, bringing his hand from England’s wrist to cup the nape of his neck and press his thumb gently into the bones. He felt England relax, the tension from his shoulders loosening as he gave into it and France let him have the moment unspoilt for a while. Then, before England could react, with the other hand France pulled him closer, pressing them closer together, before removing it suddenly.

Click.

With a noise of outrage, England bit him, hard, on the lip and France pulled away with a grin as England furiously brought his hand up to reveal a shiny new bracelet.

France laughed, stepping back quickly lest he hit him, ‘There, now I know you have done something recently to deserve that.’

England recovered the distance, hands clenched at his sides, ‘Yes, but mine was a fucking accident!’

France shrugged lightly, ‘Well, it’s a good thing you’re rather good at breaking out of them, isn’t it?’

England pressed his lips together so tightly they went white and France smirked at him, ‘I’m going to have a shower, you entertain yourself there for a moment with that and then we can go out for a drink.’

England sat down with a huff and picked up the now very abused hairpin, ‘You’re paying.’

‘Maybe.’

‘And we’re avoiding the place everyone else is going to.’

‘Oh certainly.’

----

AN:

I was going to write something soft and sweet, or something more serious with a bit of detail, but this came out instead. I’m not mad about it, but I do wish I were able to stick to some sort of plan.

It made me chuckle writing it, so I hope you all enjoy!

#fruk #hws england #hws france #aph england #aph france #hetalia #aph #hws #hetalia fanfiction #Arthur Kirkland #Francis Bonnefoy #my writing

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aces-of-the-center-court · 4 years

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hello dear anon! thank you for the request and for loving out first date headcanons! I’m really glad you enjoyed it, it’s one of my favourites. :) we apologise that this took so long, it was quite difficult to write because I had to do my research for the date spots but I hope this turned out alright. I hope you enjoy :)

- mod sunny.

first date with iwaizumi & sugawara

Sakusa Kiyoomi: Home Date

He would ask you out for a date at his house, thinking it would be the best possible spot – no outside germs or crowds

To his house?? On the first date?! You would be flustered at first but later realise the reason behind the date location and mentally punch yourself for having such impure thoughts

When you go over to his house, you would make sure to bring a small gift (after making sure to sanitise the surface of it ofc)

Once inside, you would ask for directions to the washroom to wash your hands where you would realise that he keeps his things very tidy

You both would then settle down at the living room and decide to play board games, where the two of you would just chill and have fun together instead of making it more competitive

A few games later, you two would then cook up something to go with the movie you rented

You would make sure to tell Sakusa that you had already sanitised the cover and disc before bringing it over, and he would mutter softly about how he trusts you about this since you two have an understanding for hygiene

You would both move to his room for the movie, seated closely next to each other, but not yet touching; it would be slightly unnerving – both your hearts would be beating loudly against your chests despite it not being the least bit intimate

By the time the movie came to an end, you two would have only remembered half the movie as you were both too conscious of the proximity between the two of you and the fact you were in his room

Before leaving, the two of you would clean up the spot you were both seating and he would offer to send you home but would take detours in order to spend more time together

To be honest, he wouldn’t want to separate from you, but he would not say it out loud since he wouldn’t want to be seen as selfish

Strolling in the park, the two of you would exchange some conversations and share comfortable silence, just enjoying both of your presences

He would probably be okay with your touches as he’s comfortable with you since your habits of staying clean helps too, but still not very likely to extend to kisses or hugs during the first date

“Be careful on your way back.” He would say quietly when you two arrive in front of the station and wave you goodbye before you leave.

Oikawa Tooru: Disneyland Date

He would pick you up early from your home, so he gets to spend more time with you during the travel from Miyagi to Tokyo

“You know, there’s a myth about going to Disneyland for the first date…” You would bring up nonchalantly on the train ride to the amusement park, referring to the legend that couples who go to Tokyo Disneyland for the first date would be destined to break up

Ah… Of course, Y/N-chan would have heard of such myths too… Bearing a troubled smile, he would respond, “Mm. I know of that too. Y/N-chan, do believe in it? I don’t.”

“Apparently, if the couple share a kiss within the park, their relationship will last longer… that’s what they say too. What contradictions, I wouldn’t believe such things.”

“Y/N-chan…” He would look at you with tears in his eyes, touched. Did you want to kiss- He would then knock himself out of it, “That’s right! I can’t believe people actually believed in that. Let’s have a great time, the both of us.” He would flash a charming smile at you

During the long ride – from Miyagi to Tokyo and to Disneyland – the two of you would nap on the train with your head lying on his shoulder and his on yours

Upon arrival, Oikawa would be making loud excitable enthusiastic noises while you would be equally excited despite not reacting as openly as he would

After purchasing tickets, Oikawa would pull you along to the gift shop by the entrance to procure adorable matching headbands and trinkets and would snap a selfie of the two of you wearing it – it’s something he had always wanted to do

Checking the lines at the attractions, you two would go to the popular attractions with lines that would never seem to die down first – according to both your intensive research

During the rides, the two of you would be seated close while enjoying the rides or grabbing on to each other for dear life

Afterwards, you two would grab some snacks, where Oikawa would be taking a lot of selfies and pictures of the food, before heading for the afternoon shows and parade

Throughout the date, there would be a lot of natural physical touches, sitting close together on the rides, hitting him on his arms when he does stupid things that made you laugh, and holding hands to make sure the both of you do not get lost in the crowd

While waiting for the rides, there would always be something to talk about – the pictures and videos that the both of you took, discussing about the rides etc.

Right around sunset, the both of you would try canoes for a cruise ride. The view would be stunning, but Oikawa would be staring at you the entire time and trying to sneak a picture

For dinner, you two would have it at the banquet hall while discussing the long day and how you guys would be so tired you can sleep immediately after reaching home

Although he doesn’t believe in myths, he would still be quite wary of it, so during the night fireworks, he would call you softly and lean in for a kiss in front of the Cinderella’s castle

Perhaps sleeping immediately from the fatigue of the long day is no longer an option now as the you would probably be too red in the face from thinking about the kiss to sleep.

Kageyama Tobio: Aquarium Date

After his thorough research and advices that he received from his upperclassmen (mainly Sugawara), he would decide to invite you to the aquarium at Sendai

He would be rather nervous in the beginning, wondering if he prepared everything necessary but would also be excited about seeing the aquatic creatures

At the aquarium, the two of you would be fascinated by the school of fishes swimming in groups, the stingrays, rockfishes and others, which would mean many photographs and videos taken by the both of you

He would not be able to hide his enthusiasm – in an animated way, with lots of ‘wow’ and ‘woah’ from him, he would be openly captivated by the fishes that did not seem to dislike him despite how close his face was to the tank

Kageyama would slowly start to loosen up and relax throughout the date, except when you would unexpectedly grab on his hand of course

Physical contact would be rather natural with you leading it e.g. grabbing his arm to bring him to the next exhibit – his heart would beat unnaturally fast when you do and he’d lose focus of the sea creatures

He would realise that he seemed to be having the most fun and would find it embarrassing that he lost control of his enthusiasm; but when he sees you having fun observing the fishes, he would be relieved and forget about the fishes for a moment while watching you – he’d then snap out of it and tell himself to stay cool in your presence

You two would make small conversations when walking to the other tanks and discussing about the animals – how some fishes look dramatic and scary, cute and small – comparing the fishes to some of his teammates

“This fish looks like Tsukishima, looks like it has a scowl on its face.” Kageyama would compare, watching it closely with his face almost touching the glass, eyes squinting. You would try to suppress your laughter at his antics but would agree with him

A machine that can project your colouring of sea creature on a screen next to it would pique the interest of both of you, hence would try it out without a second thought

The two of you would be so amazed after watching your very own sea creature creations swimming in the screen and would proudly take pictures of each of your masterpieces

Up next would be the dolphin show, where the two of you would be so engrossed in the show that you both forget to take videos and you would later mention about how you regret not capturing the moment

After the aquarium, you two would stop by a small family restaurant to have your meal, looking over pictures and videos together while talking about the sea creatures and the date

On another note, Kageyama would now have a selfie of the both of you which would become his phone screensaver from now on.

Miya Atsumu: Laser Tag Date

The both of you would have agreed on meeting in the late afternoon at the laser tag location

Would then decide to play against one another for the first round, then team up for the next round

He would entice you with a bet where the loser would have to listen to the winner for the rest of the date; your competitive self would not let this opportunity slip

In the first round, you would play lone wolf – while assessing the situation and protecting yourself from the rest of the players, you would try to look for him to shoot him down

He would also play lone wolf instead of forming alliance with others because he knows that’s how you would play and wants it to be a fair fight

He would enjoy seeing you play seriously while having fun but would also want to take you down so you would be at his beck and call for the rest of the date

The two of you would be too focused on taking down each other that when you finally spot him and was about to shoot, someone else eliminated you first

Looking at board, you would see your name being the one who was out, but the next instant, Atsumu’s name would appear just below yours

The two of you would be annoyed, not be able to settle the scores would set the fire in your hearts even hotter

The next round, you and Atsumu would team up as planned and discuss attack and defense strategies. With great chemistry, the two of you would brutally take down the other players smoothly and emerge as the winner at the end

Feeling refreshed, the both of you would go for dinner at somewhere simple. It would be a casual yet refreshing meal, he has quite an appetite so he would order a lot to eat

During the meal, the two of you would enthusiastically discuss moments during the laser tag round where you both won and put off the bet until the next time

“It’s thanks to me that we won, I helped defend your back!” You would claim, but he’d retort, “Nah, it’s my aiming that helped take down our opponents.”

“Okay, end of argument. We make the perfect team – and the perfect couple.” He would conclude smugly, knowing your heart would skip a beat at the last part of his statement

Before the date ends, he would make sure to leave a peck on your cheek. He would then grin smugly as he flirts, “Make sure your lips are ready for mine on our next date.”

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sleeplessincairo · 4 years

Text

[ dating bucky barnes would include: ]

warnings: a somewhat vague sexual outline and a few cusses

///

Him walking around with a notebook everywhere. Bucky got the idea from Steve when he saw him writing new things to his modern day to-do-list, so Bucky decided to do the same except fill his notebook up with his old memories instead; anything he could remember from his life before being The Winter Soldier. At first, there were only a few pages filled but as his life starting to include domestic and mundane-as well as a healthy environment-activities, he started having spontaneous and soon-to-be-frequent flashbacks that, later on, contributed to dozens of notebooks filled with not The Winter Soldier, not Prisoner #56898, not White-Wolf, but James Buchanan Barnes.

You never mentioned the notebook to Bucky nor asked to read it-Bucky was a private person, and you understood and respected that-but you still started carrying a pen with you, just in case he ever needed one.

At first, the notebook(s) was/were filled with solely memories of his past-No matter how insignificant. Whether it was that time the toilet got clogged in his shabby little apartment and had to stay with Steve and Sarah Rogers for a week because he couldn't afford a plumber or that time he lost his shoe in bar brawl and some swanky chrome-dome gave him a few bucks to buy some shoes and a sock without a hole in it. He wrote everything his mind could clearly grasp. But as the two of you got closer, he started filling it with memories he had with/of you because-even if he would never admit it-you made him feel right at home.

You may or may not have stolen his dog tags from the Smithsonian museum just as a reminder that even after all the pain, despair, manipulation, and torture he still managed to be the good person he was all those years ago. He was still James Barnes, local heartthrob that volunteered at the soup kitchen during his free time, that fought a war and lost an arm during the process, that dreamt of flying cars and a future without all fights and wars, that had a soft spot for a certain trouble-attracting boy whose heart was too big for his body.

“Jesus doll, I didn’t know I was dating a thief.” “Oh James, I thought you’d already realized that when I stole your heart from right under your nose.”

Bucky’s not big on talking or directly verbally professing his love, but that’s okay; His eyes tell you everything. There was always something about Bucky’s eyes that were so mesmerizing, so captivating, you could instantly tell how he was feeling. Before you, his eyes resembled a pale arctic blue that were as cold as glaciers-His eyes were hollowed and empty, scratched raw from any emotion but your growing presence thawed them out, they warmed through the cold exterior of what was once The Winter Soldier and reminded you that the hottest fires burn blue.

He does, however, reference quite a few interesting slang choices from the 40′s, which is his own little way of demonstrating verbal affection, ranging from calling you ‘Doll’ & ‘Sweetheart’ to calling you ‘The Cat’s Meow’ & ‘Butter and Egg Fly’

He’s never been very invested in hygiene. It never really was something important for him since he was in the Army and BO was a pretty normal thing, and then he became The Winter Soldier and HYDRA never exactly gave him a bathtub-Not that he was in the right mindset to to care about it anyway-So you usually have to remind him to shower everyday-Not that you mind, it would usually end with the both of you showering together and you having the opportunity to wash his hair yourself.

Soon enough, Bucky gets real invested in hygiene, he starts reading about self-care routines, exfoliating, conditioning, and gets completely hooked. Secretly, he does it because he likes the routine, something mundane and fixed to do to keep him busy.

You’re the only one that gets to call him James. Something about the way you say it warms his heart, he’d focus completely on the way your mouth moves as you say it-It reminded him of the way his mother would say his full name before busting his chops about coming home all dirty but then later ruffling his thick hair and offering a plate of strawberry jam sandwhiches, or how the word was always lurking in the dark corners of his mind like the silhouette of a ghost he couldn’t seem to recognize until you brought it to life.

Him always reaching out for your hand when he feels out-of-place, outside, or honestly just all the time because it helps him feel secure and grounded.

Steve third wheeling the both of you all the time. No seriously, literally all the time. He spends more time in the apartment you and Bucky share more than his own to the point where you and Bucky wonder if he actually has one.

Steve has a key to your place-Even though, the both of you never gave him a key in the first place-and has a habit of interrupting the both of you or walking in on the worst possible moments.

“Hey guys, what are ya doi-Oh...Sorry I didn't know-Buck, you don't need to throw-Jesus, okay, okay I’m going.”

“Who the hell does it look like I’m doing, Steve.”

Bucky being very insecure about his arm, he even refuses to touch you with that arm-Subconsciously, he’s afraid he’ll accidentally hurt you. At first, he only ever wears long-sleeved shirts and a glove even on the hottest days as if he’d somehow forget that there was a metallic limb under all the cotton, but slowly like molasses he starts accepting it. He starts wearing open finger gloves, then discarding the gloves, then wearing 3-quarter sleeves, then short-sleeved shirts, then sleeveless shirts, then finally feeling comfortable enough to take off his shirt in front of you which leads to a night filled with discarded clothing, the sounds of soft murmurs and reassurances, the rolling of each other’s names off each other tongues like a prayer, and the rustling of the blanket against the delicate movement of your intertwined bodies skin-on-skin, skin-on-metal as the both of you unravel thread by thread in each other’s arms.

Truth is, you love his metal arm, you love the way it’s cool against your warm cheek on hot summer nights, you love the splashes of light that kiss it every morning making it sparkle, you love the soft and soothing whirring noises it lets out breaking the silence in your room, you love it because it’s a part of him and God knows how much you love everything about this man.

Despite being the assassin that killed JFK, managed to get away with it, and mind boggle conspiracists for decades he’s a bit clumsy. He has a habit of accidentally breaking things and later on, not telling you about it.

"James Buchanan Barnes, I thought I developed super strength-and even asked Stark to do some tests on me, but apparently you just happened to forget to mention and explain why the fuck doors are falling off their hinges!"

Losing sleep with Bucky. He tends to have very frequent and graphic nightmares which leads to various panic attacks and the inability to sleep, and you're more than happy to stay up with him and comfort him. Sometimes you’d talk while he listened and watched the way your lips moved or the way the pony tail you had gone to bed with loosened and hundreds of strands escaped the grasp of the hair band or the way a yawn would escape your lips and your hand would momentarily rise to cover your mouth but get lazy halfway, other times you’d lay in each other’s arms in complete silence while you traced patterns on his chest and trail kisses across his skin.

You being his anchor. You holding him tightly and assuring him that he’s okay, that you're here, that you're real, that he’s out, that he’s safe, and many other tender 3-worded sentences uttered over and over again like a mantra until he’s murmuring them back into your chest.

Sometimes, when he has really bad nightmares and panic attacks you grab his notebook and start reading the memories out loud while you lay his head on your lap and run your hand through his hair in a calming manner until he calms down. It soon becomes a regular thing where you read him a memory before he goes to bed like a bedtime story.

Bucky Barnes is a man who was tortured and tormented for years, a man whose life was ripped right from his very arms along with his very own arm, a man who has gone through a long and unforgettable journey where he has learned to cope, grow, accept, and embrace himself and now he’s made it his mission to encourage and help others to do the same, whether they're struggling with their sexuality, amputation, mental illness, gender, or general self-acceptance.

You educated him about women’s rights because things are a lot different then in the 1940s; women are no longer obligated to get married, cater to a man’s every whim, have children, and other traditional gender roles. At first, Bucky’s very confused and doesn't understand why feminism is so important-I mean, lets face it, Bucky was raised in a traditional society and was later on manipulated to being a bloodthirsty assassin and now suddenly, he can think on his own and his life has turned completely upside down from thinking his own thoughts without HYDRA around to thinking past social constructs and norms so its normal for him to be a bit weary. However, you're there to explain thoroughly about how unjust society still is and how women may have won a few battles but still have a war to fight in a society where they are hyper-sexualized, mistreated, and controlled, and Bucky immediately thinks of Peggy Carter and how the men used to catcall her, how they raked her body with inappropriate stares, how she was ignored and seen as a pretty face, and then he finally understands.

Dozens of articles about mysterious beatings of assaulters around New York.

His metal arm is decorated with dozens of pins, magnets, and stickers of all the movements he supports. Oh man, you should see him during Women’s marches and Pride fairs, considering all the black he usually wears seeing him dressed in bright colors or a pink shirt that says ‘On Wednesdays, we destroy the patriarchy’. It’s a sight that truly belongs in the history books.

Bucky breaking hold of the toxic masculinity he was subjected to in the 1940s and advocating for men to be able to display their God-given emotions freely, to not feel obligated to put on a tough guy front, to telling boys its okay to cry, to feel, to act, to wear, and to be whomever they please to be.

Bucky visiting youth centers and giving advice and support to the kids there. Every kid he meets reminds him of Steve, whether its in their stubbornness, taste for trouble, lostness, or the glimmer of potential he sees in every single one of them. He remembers every single name of the teenager he meets and later on, uses them as a mantra whenever he’s undergoing a panic or anxiety attack as well as use SHIELD’s equipment to check up on them every once in a while.

Bucky going to children’s hospitals every week to cheer up the little kids there. He ends up being quite the inspiration and their ‘Favorite Superhero’ for the kids with amputations there and they end up being one of the very few people who are allowed to touch his metal arm. Something about the way their eyes shine with hope and their hands melt at the feeling of the metal warms his heart and his insecurities.

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amazingmsme · 4 years

Text

The Sweetest Smell is You

AN: Get ready for a lot of sweet pinning & fluff! I know the demand for Witcher fics is high so enjoy this very self indulgent fic, it’s a bit longer!

They had been walking for quite some time. Well more accurately, Jaskier had been walking for quite some time. Geralt was comfortably sat atop Roach, surveying the road ahead. Having completed a contract on the outskirts Toussaint, they were currently heading for Temeria. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on Jaskier's neck. He reached back to wipe off the sweat and flick it onto the ground. It was late spring, closer to summer but not quite there yet.

They traveled along a narrow path through the forest, beaten down by hooves and feet. A creek ran along the trail, providing a symphony of frog chirps on its banks.

"Geralt do you think we can stop soon? It's hot and my feet are killing me," he complained. Jaskier didn't complain often, knowing if he did so he would only come across as a nag and when he really needed to voice his concerns they would be shrugged off. So he normally kept his more unpleasant opinions to himself. But they had been traveling since just after sunrise and it was well past noon by now.

"As soon as we find a safe place to stop, we can take a break," he promised. "But I'd rather keep moving." Jaskier rolled his eyes.

"Yes yes, my sore feet and I are well aware," he quipped. Then he grumbled more to himself, "I swear I'll walk a hole through this pair before the seasons change." Geralt held back a snort.

He scented the air, searching for any signs of danger and found none. A faint floral scent drifted through the air, tipping him off to a possible clearing or meadow for Jaskier to rest for a while. He knew how much he loved flowers, and it would perhaps take his mind off of his aching body. He said nothing and continued their walk through the forest. The deeper they went, the stronger the smell became. Jaskier still couldn't quite pick up on it yet.

Geralt turned Roach and guided her closer to the small stream. He stepped off and grabbed their canteens and water jugs. "We should fill these up before our supply gets too low. Don't know when we'll come across another clean water source," he said. Jaskier abided and knelt down to refill the bottles. When he stood, he sniffed the air, nose crinkling adorably as he did so.

He smiled to himself. "Mmm smells good," he commented. Geralt couldn't help the smirk that pulled at the corners of his lips, thinking of the perfect reply.

"Thanks, I farted."

Jaskier's jaw dropped in disgusted, though he mostly did it to try and hide his amusement. Which he failed at. "You dihid not!" he laughed, pointing a finger at him. "Trust me, I would know if you did because I'd be on the ground gagging!" Geralt just rolled his eyes, chuckling slightly as Jaskier continued. "And then you'd blame it on Roach, only by now I've learned that hers are only half as bad," he argued. Said horse tossed her head at the insult and stomped her hoof, knowing he was badmouthing her. He reached out and patted her neck. "Sorry girl but it's true."

Geralt interrupted them, climbing back on Roach. He gave her a gentle kick, urging her to walk across the water. Jaskier let out a huff, knowing that meant he'd have to cross as well.

"If I fall I'm blaming you," he muttered. He hopped from rock to rock, doing his best to keep his feet dry. There was nothing worse than wet shoes. He started to place a careful step on a visibly slick rock when Geralt brought the palm of his hand to his mouth and blew. A very loud, flatulent sound reverberated through the air, startling Jaskier to where he slipped on the mossy rock.

There was a loud cry of "NO!" followed by a splash. Geralt found himself laughing fully now as Jaskier sat in the shallow creek, glaring daggers at him. He extended a hand which Jaskier swatted away.

"Asshole, you're the worst," and while there was definitely anger in his tone, Geralt still picked up a slight undertone of amusement.

"C'mon I think there's a meadow or something nearby. I can smell it," he said, trying to win back his good graces.

"Yes, I can too," Jaskier started. "It's... familiar," he wondered aloud. As they continued walking, Jaskier lit up. "I know what this is, it used to grow in the woods near our estate!"

"Hm?" Geralt hummed in lieu of a question.

"It's honeysuckle," Jaskier said matter of factly. "I used to eat it all the time when I was little," he said, a distant look in his eyes. "Gods, that smell really takes me back. It's so good."

Geralt snorted, "Maybe to you, but for me it's too strong. Almost overbearing." They turned a corner deeper into the woods and saw a lush thicket of the flowering vines stretching over the ground and far into the trees above. Hundreds of tiny white and gold flowers bloomed from the rich green leaves, filling the air with the best smell Jaskier could remember. It might've had something to do with nostalgia, but he didn't care. The scent was thick and sweet, smelling of fresh dew and flora. It was very strong, almost citrusy in a way. A bit fruity, with a hint of honey. Each breath through his nose warmed Jaskier's nostrils with memories from his childhood. He sighed in content and let himself fall to the ground.

Not many people could fall gracefully, Geralt thought, but Jaskier had it down to an art. His eyes were closed, a slight smile on his face. He spread his arms to his side like wings as his legs just, sort of gave out. He crumbled to the ground, letting the flowers cushion his fall. Geralt licked his dry lips, tearing his gaze away. He sat down beside him, watching as he picked a handful of the small flowers. When Jaskier opened his eyes he saw Geralt staring at him with a fond smile before quickly looking away.

Geralt scanned the horizon, hand coming up to pinch his nose shut.

"Hey you should be enjoying this! I bet with your enhanced senses it smells amazing!" Jaskier said. Geralt shook his head.

"It's too strong, I won't be able to detect any danger," he said. Jaskier smirked, "I'm sure your other senses will do the job just fine. And besides, I doubt anything too terrible is in these woods. We would've probably known by now."

Jaskier set his bounty in his lap, picking up one of the trumpet shaped flowers. He pinched off the end of the stalk, pulling out the string from the middle. When he got close to pulling it all the way out, a tiny drop of nectar was collected on the string. He touched it to his tongue, relishing in the sweet taste. He held one out to Geralt.

"Try it."

"I'll pass. It's bad enough having to smell it," he said. Jaskier scoffed, as though offended.

"Excuse you, it smells lovely." He leaned back on his hands, kicking off his boots and tossed them aside before peeling off his wet socks and chucking them as well. Jaskier burrowed his feet into the soft ground. "Much better," he commented.

"Mm."

Jaskier glanced at him from the side before offering another flower. Geralt shoved his hand away, and Jaskier smacked him back.

"Not for you, you oaf!" Roach was now leaning over Geralt and gently took the offering from his open palm. Geralt watched her incredulously. Damnit now he kind of wanted one. He turned back to see Jaskier holding another flower his way. He eyed it, raising a skeptical brow. He still had to keep up appearances.

"It's childish."

Jaskier gasped, placing a hand over his chest. "Are you calling me childish then too?" he questioned. Geralt only tilted his head. That was answer enough. "It's called having fun Geralt, maybe you should try it sometime." The man only grunted. Jaskier leaned forward, batting his eyelashes pleadingly. Damnit.

"Okay fine," he snatched the small yellow bloom from his hands, doing the same as he had seen Jaskier do. It was sweet, light and sugary with only a hint of a floral aftertaste. Much more pleasant than the thick, over powering smell that plagued the air around him. The pungent aroma lingered everywhere, blocking everything else out.

"What do you think?" Jaskier asked. Geralt hummed.

"It's pleasant. The smell is still too strong though. I can't even smell you anymore, and you're right in front of me," he said casually. Jaskier had an odd look on his face that Geralt couldn't quite place. It soon morphed into a wide grin, and Geralt knew that look meant trouble. At least for him.

"So you can smell me?" he asked, scooting closer.

"Not anymore," Geralt deadpanned.

"Ah yes, so you've said. But you are capable of smelling me, and from the sounds of it you're familiar with my scent," he reasoned. There was an... almost dreamy look in Jaskier's eyes, Geralt was sure of it.

"Of course I have, you've been following me for years."

Jaskier propped his elbow on his knee, resting his chin in his palm. "What do I smell like," he asked in a teasing tone. It was almost flirtatious, but that's just Jaskier being Jaskier. Besides, what does he know about flirting anyway? He just made the bard fall in the river because he didn't know what else to do. Geralt looked away.

"I don't remember," he lied.

"That's bullshit if I've ever heard it," Jaskier called him out. "C'mon, just tell me? Unless I stink, then definitely lie to me. But I doubt that I would stink because I do pride myself on my hygiene," he rambled. "So do tell," he eagerly awaited his answer.

Geralt shrugged his shoulders, trying to hide a slight smirk. "Sorry. Honeysuckle's clouding my memory." Jaskier let out an annoyed huff, hands on his hips.

"You know, you're really getting on my nerves today."

"Now you know how I feel," Geralt taunted. Jaskier narrowed his eyes.

"I would advise you tread lightly," he warned.

"Yeah okay," Geralt said dismissively. Jaskier pointed at him.

"I'm serious! I don't know why you're being so damn stubborn," he said.

Because you're cute when you're exasperated, Geralt didn't say. Instead he just hummed. Jaskier huffed in annoyance, puffing out his cheeks slightly as he blew a lock of hair out of his face. Fuck that shouldn't have looked as hot as it did. Jaskier's attention was back on him, and to his shock his throat went dry.

He had a mischievous gleam in his eye with a smirk to match. He crawled closer to him as he spoke. "Tell me, or else you'll regret it." Geralt was not so easily swayed.

He tilted his head. "Oh really? How do you suppose that?" Jaskier gave an experimental poke to his side, making him jerk away from the touch.

"Y'know, I'm still a bit upset about my impromptu swim," he started, and pushed Geralt to the ground. Both hands rested on each side of his chest as he straddled his waist. He leaned in close to Geralt face, and he could feel a heat spread through his entire body as he felt the bard's weight rest on him. "So I won't feel too bad about what I'm about to do."

Geralt was going to ask what he meant by that, but Jaskier's deft fingers dug under his arms. His entire body went stiff, and his face scrunched with the effort to hold in his laughter. The occasional chuckle slipped out with a puff of air, but he eventually caved to the feeling. His arms slammed down, effectively trapping Jaskier's hands.

"Wow Geralt, I don't think I've ever heard you laugh this hard before! Or laugh in general! Who knew it was such a nice sound?" he said, drilling his thumbs into the hollows. Despite all the rumors and lies told about witchers, they had once been human. And many of their human traits are able to shine through at times. Which is why, upon hearing those words, a blush began to creep onto his face. Jaskier's mouth dropped open in amazement.

"Oh my god, are you actually blushing?" he asked. "This is too good! Where else are you ticklish?" He asked.

"Ihihi dohon't knohohohow!" he laughed. It wasn't technically a lie, it had been over a century since he had played with his brothers like this, and he couldn't quite remember all of his spots. Jaskier tsked, "Well that just wont do."

He shifted his attack and began playing his ribs. Geralt's laughter was loud and unabashed as he squirmed underneath Jaskier's body. His hands were skilled from years of musical talent, and he easily dug in between each rib. He thought he was about to be thrown to the side once Geralt's hands latched onto his wrists, but instead of shoving him off, they just... stayed there. Interesting.

He traveled down to his sides, quickly moving over his stomach. He placed quick, sporadic pokes all over, leaving him a jumpy, twitchy mess. His laughter was higher pitched, more frantic. But he still hadn't asked Jaskier to stop, and so he didn't.

"Which is worse? Stomach, or ribs?" he asked, one hand tickling each spot, causing his laughter to kick up a notch.

"Jahahaskier, noho," he pleaded. Jaskier smirked and tilted his head to the side.

"No what? You really have to be more specific Geralt," he teased, not stopping the onslaught.

"Nohot answering!" Geralt cried. Jaskier mock pouted.

"Aw why not? Is it too embarrassing to admit? Well you have my word I won't tell a soul," Jaskier promised. "It's our little secret."

"Stomach," Geralt admitted through his laughter. Jaskier grinned so wide he thought his face might split in two. He slipped his hands underneath his clothes to massage the flesh there. Geralt threw his head back and pounded against the ground with his fists in an effort to not toss Jaskier aside. He raked his blunt nails over the taught skin, resulting in a shiver that ran throughout Geralt's whole body. Jaskier took his time exploring all over the muscled torso before him. When he scratched inside his bellybutton, he let out a scream as he arched his back before falling back to the ground.

"Ohohoho, bad spot?" Jaskier asked with a wolffish grin. Geralt closed his eyes, not able to stand the look Jaskier was giving him. He definitely noticed this and a gentle warmth filled his heart.

"Yehehes!" he admitted. Jaskier was amused with his honesty.

"Hmmm good to know," he said. He had never seen Geralt look so... happy. So genuinely happy. He shook himself out of the slight daze he was in. His hands journeyed over to his hips and touching the tops of his thighs.

"Fuck! Jaskier nohot thehere!" Geralt most certainly did not plead. Said man only raised an eyebrow.

"And why not? Judging from your reaction I would say I've struck a goldmine," he said rather smugly. Geralt finally met his eyes, and Jaskier could tell how much fun he was having. He didn't know much about how he was raised as a witcher, but from what he'd picked up they didn't have much time to play around and be kids. He did know that Geralt and the other witchers enjoyed roughhousing, so this was probably up his alley.

Geralt's eyes shone bright with childlike joy and barely concealed mischief. He wiggled slightly, testing how well he was pinned. Though it didn't really matter all that much, he could stop this if he really wanted to.

Jaskier drummed his fingers ever so lightly on his hips. Geralt grunted, trying to hold back his laughter. "So why would I stop now?" he asked, fingers still at work. His laughs were breathy huffs of air at the softer touch that began to grow more powerful as his fingers sank deeper in the skin.

While he could still talk, he said, "Do your worst then." And then he winked. Jaskier's mouth fell open and he felt his tongue go dry. He quickly recovered, drilling his thumbs into his hips to distract himself.

"Oh you are asking for it mister!" he exclaimed. And he really was. His words were a dare in themselves, the wink an open invitation. So Jaskier took it. He squeezed from his hips down his thighs, deciding to stay there upon seeing his reaction. Geralt thrashed from side to side, his legs drumming the thick plants beneath them.

"Fuhuhuhuck! Shit shit shit!" He grappled for a hold on Jaskier's hands, but ultimately failed, and succumbed to his fate. His laughter was deep and frantic now. It was a nice sound that resonated in your chest when you heard it. Geralt looked truly beautiful like this. His hair fanned out among the foliage, the white was a stark contrast to the rich green. A few of the blooms had fallen out due to all of his squirming, and were now gently tangled in his hair. His eyes seemed more vibrant, at least when they weren't squinted shut. His mouth hung open in a wide smile, the biggest Jaskier had ever seen him wear. And there, carved into his cheeks were bright, shining dimples. Jaskier couldn't help but coo.

"Oh my gods, how have I never noticed that you have dimples?" he cheered. He continued his work with one hand and brought the other up to poke at his cheek. Geralt tried to turn his head away, and the pink color on his face turned a shade darker. "Probably because you never even smile," Jaskier said in answer to his own question.

"Thahat's nohot true!" Geralt defended. Jaskier brought his hand back to the task at hand.

"Of course not, it's called teasing Geralt. Maybe you should try it sometime," he mused. He continued squeezing down his legs, eliciting a stream of loud snorts mixed in with the rich laughter. Jaskier couldn't help but to stare at him with amused shock.

"You fucking snort when you laugh this hard? I need to do this more often then," he said mostly to himself.

"You cahahahan't!" Geralt tried to reason, knowing the bard was probably telling the truth. Jaskier raked his nails slowly over the muscles in his thighs, making him buck once more with a strangled cry of mirth.

"Actually I can. I don't see you trying too hard to stop me," he pointed out. Geralt immediately yelled for him to shut up.

"Alright I'll grant you mercy, but only if you promise to tell me what I smell like." Geralt nodded, willing to do just about anything to get him to stop. Jaskier shot him a half evil grin, "Okay just one more spot first."

Before Geralt could even question him he brought his hands up to gently rake his nails across his neck. He immediately scrunched his shoulders and let out a string of giggles. His fingers worked swiftly along the skin, effectively turning the man to mush. He slowly stopped squirming as much and just melted. Oh this was wonderful.

He tossed his head from side to side, trying to dislodge his attack. Then he moved to rake his blunt nails right behind his ears. Geralt let out a strangled screech, eyes widening at the sound as he moved to cover his mouth.

"Oh no you don't," Jaskier said as he pulled his hand away. God, he had never seen the witcher look so, so giddy before.

"Jahaskier," he said through a laugh. Then their eyes locked and everything froze. Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled in. He kept leaning lower. Geralt seemed to be frozen beneath him. He kept leaning forward until he was mere inches away from Geralt's face; he flashed him a dazzling smile and a wink to go with it before he dove down to his neck. His lips connected with the tender skin as he blew out a large breath.

"NOHOHO!" Geralt yelled as he arched his back, not able to take it any longer. Jaskier rolled off of him, chuckling as he did so. He propped his head in his palm, laying on his side. He stared at him, and a whiff of smugness greeted Geralt's nostrils through the flowers.

Jaskier batted his eyes down at Geralt and asked, "So, what do I smell like?"

"Right now smug as hell." This only seemed to make him beam more.

"Well I have reason to be. I just took down a witcher with my bare hands," he bragged. Geralt rolled his eyes and nudged him with his knee.

"Alright don't be too cocky," he warned, raising an eyebrow.

Jaskier settled deeper into the vines, "What else?"

Geralt hummed in thought, "Like sandalwood and lavender."

"I smell good," Jaskier nodded, seemingly proud of himself. This made Geralt smile even more. He hummed once more.

There was a still beat, before Geralt pounced. He easily grabbed Jaskier's wrists and pinned them above his head with one hand. He looked dazed and flushed, a nervous smile already plastered across his face.

"Now Geralt, maybe we can drop this?" he asked.

He only chuckled, maybe intentionally adding a sadistic tone. "You wish." His hands rested atop his stomach as he slowly began drumming his fingers. Jaskier's legs kicked out behind his back.

"Plehehease, Ihi'm sorry!" He was already lost to giggles at the gentle touch. Geralt smirked and wiggled his fingers a little deeper into the flesh. Jaskier's laugh kicked up a notch, as did the squirming. Geralt slipped his hands underneath his shirt, getting at the bare skin. Jaskier snorted and tugged at his arms.

"Shihihit! Nonono!" he squealed once he started squeezing up and down his sides, all the way down to the hips. Then he walked his fingers up each rib, scratching at the space between each one.

"Geralt please!" he managed to gasp out between laughs. Geralt just said, "Almost done."

He slowly began circling his armpit with one finger. Jaskier was already giggling like a fool.

"You cahahan't do thihis to mehe," he said even though he knew that he could and absolutely would.

"Hm, watch me," he said. He formed a claw and started scratching at the hollow. Jaskier squealed and hid his face in his arm. Geralt snickered at the reaction. He let him regain his breath for a moment.

"Can't let the other side feel left out. Then you'd be off balance," he teased, stroking his hand down his other pit. Jaskier couldn't help but squirm away.

"I'm pretty sure that's not how that wohohorks! Nohohoho!" Geralt interrupted him. He dug into the muscle, alighting his nerves. No matter which way Jaskier twisted, he couldn't lose those dreaded fingers. He knew his only choice was to succumb.

Geralt backed off and let him free. Jaskier didn't bother to pull his arms down. Not even when Geralt scratched at the center. That had earned him a beautiful yelp at the feeling.

They both leaned back into the thick flowers, allowing themselves to rest knowing they were protected by the several wards Geralt had cast. Jaskier snuggled a bit closer to his side. Geralt placed a hesitant arm over his shoulder. They spent the rest of the afternoon staring at the clouds before setting up their camp for the night, and cloud gazing turned to star gazing.

#geraskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fic #witcher #witcher fic #the witcher tickle fic #ticklish!geralt #ticklish!jaskier

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misssophiachase · 4 years

Note

Sequel for how to save a life please

Sorry for the delay nonnie. You got it, here goes...For anyone who didn’t read part 1 you can catch it on AO3 HERE - Let me know what you think.

In the last part Caroline showed up hungover for her first day as a surgical intern only to discover her drinking buddy and one-night-stand is none other than her attending and famed neurosurgeon, Dr Klaus Mikaelson.

Original Synopsis from nonnie’s prompt: Caroline as Meredith Grey and Klaus as Derek Shepherd.

How to Save a Life - part 2

Monday 6am

“I’m going to kill him,” she growled, holding her syringe precariously so it looked like she was cocking a firearm instead.

It had been a twenty-eight hour shift so far and she decided to blame it on that if they decided to report her for malpractice or for ‘accidentally’ killing an attending.

“Easy, tiger,” Kol offered, lowering her arm in the process. “I’m only an intern but maybe we should be conserving the life saving drugs for the actual patients. You know, just a thought.”

“Cute,” she drawled by way of response. Caroline wasn’t hungover this time, which was definitely a bonus, but it didn’t stop Doctor know-it-all from sharing his opinion more than a few times throughout her never-ending shift.

“No Dr Forbes, not that way Dr Forbes, listen carefully Dr Forbes,” he’d chide, except he sounded so sexy and authoritative when he called her Dr Forbes. And that was every shift, not just this one. If he didn’t have such a pretty face, she’d most likely slap him, even if it was frowned upon in the workplace.

“Trust me, I’ve been in your position too many times to count and letting him get to you is not the way to handle things,” Kol broke into her Klaus Mikaelson trance, which was probably a good thing.

But then his words caught her attention. Too many times to count? It was only day nine. What exactly had Kol done to earn his wrath in that short amount of time?

Caroline looked at him curiously, besides his first name she didn’t know much about her fellow intern, except the fact he liked to talk a lot when most people weren’t interested in hearing what he had to say. He’d also taken an instant liking to Bonnie which definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Who are you?”

“Just your friendly, fellow intern who has impeccable hygiene,” he offered, sending her his most dazzling smile. “And while we’re on the topic.”

“Of you having impeccable hygiene?”

“Yes,” he answered. Caroline, meanwhile, still had no idea where this was going. She consulted her watch to hurry him up given she knew how much he liked to talk. “I understand you have a room for rent and I happen to be looking for a place to stay.”

Obviously word of her mom’s large house had made the rounds. Yes, she’d been looking for a third roommate but didn’t expect it to be Kol. Given both Bonnie and Kat were living in her upstairs bedrooms, Caroline wasn’t so sure it was a good idea.

“Kol, now’s not the best time...”

“I can pay you three months of rent in advance and my share of the utilities?”

Now, that proposal caught her attention. Caroline needed money and fast. But at the same time who was this guy? And why did he have so much money to spare? Most of them were struggling to get by given the hefty school loans they had to repay.

Which brought her back to his proposal and how much she needed it. She’d just have to explain to Kat and Bonnie that she had no choice and surely they’d understand her dilemma. Well, hopefully.

“Okay, fine,” she relented. “But we’ll do it on a trial basis. Four weeks and, if that hygiene isn’t anything short of spectacular I’ll be kicking you out much sooner.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he saluted. Caroline figured most responsible people would interview someone and at least get one reference but she was far too distracted by the attending to focus on proper process.

As if on cue, Enzo was already bellowing at them from down the hall to get their asses into gear. Caroline wondered just what the patients must think of the spectacle.

“Hang on, what’s your last name?” She asked, thinking she should probably know that if they were going to be living together, but he was already making his way dutifully towards the sound of the dictator’s voice.

She’d get to the bottom of that once her shift was over. As well as drinking a much-needed glass of wine or six, her memories of that recent hangover after doing the nasty with the overbearing attending well and truly forgotten.

Until next time, of course.

“Nice of you to join us, Forbes,” he barked. “Dr Mikaelson has requested you join him at MRI.”

“Me?”

“I don’t think anyone else goes by that name, Forbes,” he growled, emphasising her surname for added effect.

“Maybe someone else could..” she could see Bonnie and Kat trying to silence her with their eyes. She wouldn’t hear the end of this after their shift.

“If you don’t get up there right now I’ll send you to do that enema. Remember Mrs Jones from last night? You know the patient that hasn’t...” Caroline didn’t need to be told twice given just what she’d have her hands elbow deep in.

“Took your time, Dr Forbes. I’m just glad this wasn’t an emergency.” He hadn’t even turned his head and was too busy consulting the on-screen images.

Rather than trying to explain herself and the fact she’d run from the ground floor ER to MRI in record time she decided to keep her thoughts to herself. Professionalism and all that, even if he was an ass.

She made her way by his side, trying to ignore just how good he smelled from this close proximity. It was a problem she’d experienced too many times to count.

“What do you see?” He asked, finally turning to look at her.

She was momentarily caught off guard given the way those navy scrubs brought out his eyes. Caroline closed her eyes briefly reminding herself that this was too important. This was work and he was her superior. Nothing else.

If only memories of their night together weren’t still so vivid and causing places to stir that really shouldn’t be stirring right now. Caroline was pretty certain if her mother was looking down on her right now she’d be extremely disappointed.

But she needed to concentrate for the patient’s sake.

“There seems to be a tumour in the left hemisphere of the cerebrum,” she noted, pointing to the screen.

“Can you tell if it is cancerous or benign?” She looked at it again closely wondering if he saw something she hadn’t, he was the neurosurgeon after all. It was too easy to second guess herself but Caroline knew she needed to own her diagnoses.

“I can’t tell from the scan.” She really hoped that was the right answer, especially given she’d been awake over 32 hours straight.

“So, based on that diagnosis, what is the required course of action, Dr Forbes?”

“Biopsy surgery.”

“And what does that entail?”

“Obtaining brain tissue samples to diagnose whether the tumour is cancerous or benign.”

“Good work, Dr Forbes,” he murmured. “I want you to scrub into the surgery.” Caroline looked at him incredulously. Trying to figure out if he had a motive but at the same time really hoping he didn’t.

“You deserve this,” he murmured kindly. Not like everything she’d experienced so far in his presence. “As much as I like to give you a hard time on the floor, you are a quick learner and you work hard. But, not gonna lie, that attitude needs some work.”

“Okay,” she replied quietly thinking the attitude was probably sexual frustration but didn’t want to share that with him. “But I fully expect you to tell me when I’m not doing a good job. I happen to be a lot more resilient than you think I am.”

“And that’s why I like you.”

Caroline decided she needed to leave the room quickly before she said or did something she might regret. Like throw her arms around him or kiss him. She was still learning how to deal with a superior she’d done the nasty with after all.

“I’ll see you in surgery,” she offered, walking out of the room, not bothering to respond or look back. She decided it was safer that way.

9 hours later...

“My butt cheeks have gone to sleep,” Kat groaned, her head hitting the bar. “I was tasked with just watching someone and that shit hurts, let me tell you.”

“Consider yourself lucky, Pierce, have you monetarily lost your hearing due to the wailings from the patient in 3A?” Kol shot back, tipping back a whiskey for his trouble.

“No, I was too busy trying to pretend I was professional during that x-ray of someone sticking random things up his, well you know what,” Bonnie shared, albeit quietly.

“You do realise you’re a surgeon and a doctor so anatomy is not a dirty subject...”

“Call it a professional courtesy,” she huffed.

“I think Bon Bon here is definitely in the wrong career, just saying.”

“If I needed your opinion Kol, I’d ask for it,” she growled.

“For the love of god, Kol,” Caroline groaned, swirling the red wine in her glass and trying not to fall into its hypnotic tendencies. “I’m barely alive here.”

“Says the girl who scrubbed into surgery today.”

This is what Caroline was worried about, the fact her friends would think it was blatant favouritism. She didn’t sign up for that. At least they didn’t about what happened with Dr Mikaelson and for that she was grateful.

“Yeah with Dr McYummy”

“Who?”

“It’s what all the nurses call him,” Kat shared. “I really think it could take off hospital-wide.”

Caroline wasn’t sure if she wanted it to and weirdly Kol seemed freaked out at the prospect too given his outraged expression.

“Or it could be one of those things that you accidentally blurt out during surgery. Like ‘here’s the scalpel, Dr McYummy’ and that’s just asking for trouble and a demotion for being unprofessional.”

Trust Bonnie to see the sense in it all.

“I’m with you Bonnie,” Kol offered. “Better we don’t equate any names with any of the attendings.” Seems like the two most expected to disagree had finally agreed on something. Hopefully that would soften the blow when Caroline decided to reveal they were all rooming together.

Caroline was still trying to get her head around everything she’d done the past ten hours, glad that she had a day off before her next shift to properly focus. And to finally get some sleep. Until it happened.

“Kol!” She looked up towards the sound.

“There goes my reputation,” her fellow intern muttered.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Caroline was trying to reconcile the intrusion in her half asleep state. But when Klaus approached their table she knew things were unfolding and not in a good way.

“And you wonder why I was so glad to move in with you,” Kol whispered before their attending appeared in all his glory. Something she wasn’t expecting and was trying to .

“So, you two know each other?” She asked, probably against her better judgment.

“Siblings,” Kol offered gingerly.

“And you two?” Klaus asked, his expression telling her he was trying not to show his jealously but killing his brother wouldn’t be out of the question.

“We live together.”

If this was supposed to feel awkward then it really did now.

#klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #klaroline #how to save a life #misssophiachase

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shyvioletcat · 5 years

Note

okay so like i know it was like just supposed to be a one time thing, but can you add to the emt/er Rowaelin or could you do more of the er/emt for them please

I’ve had this almost done for ages... I have no excuse. Also I am not vet or doctor so don’t shoot me. Part 1.

~~~~~

Aelin sighed as she flicked through the magazine in front of her. She’d read it cover to cover at lest 5 times, but tonight was slow and she had nothing else to do. And without a distraction her mind just kept going over what Rowan had said the last time he had been in the ER.

“It’s just an added bonus.”

“What is?”

“Seeing your pretty face.”

Aelin slammed the magazine closed and groaned as she recalled what had happened next. She’d been so flustered by his words that her only response had been to laugh, then she hadn’t been able to look him in the eye before he’d left. And laugh was a generous description, it was more of a strangled choking noise. Rowan hadn’t been in since. Aelin wasn’t quiet sure what she would do if he did turn up, but hopefully it wouldn’t be that again.

The sound of rushing feet had Aelin sitting up a bit straighter. It seemed he had been summoned by her thoughts because Rowan appeared. Instinctively Aelin looked him over searching for the injury. There was none she could see. Aelin crossed her arms over her chest pushing that awkwardness deep, deep down.

“Who was it this time?” Aelin asked.

“No one, it’s not me,” Rowan said.

Aelin cocked her head in question.

“Can you come out to my truck?”

“Why?” Aelin said.

“She’s in my truck,” Rowan explained.

“You can’t bring her in?”

Rowan rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t think that would be very hygienic.”

“It’s an animal?” Aelin blurted.

Rowan nodded. “The vet is closed and she’s cut pretty bad.”

“Alright, I’ll grab some stuff,” Aelin jumped up then and grabbed one of the portable hospital first aid kits. At the last second she thought to grab a hand held electric shaver as well. Then she followed Rowan out to the carpark.

He seemed nervous, concerned. Aelin just hoped she could help whoever was in his truck. Aelin had never seen Rowan’s truck, but now that she had it would be very hard to miss. It was a big, red, beat up thing, and looked pretty old. She assumed that Rowan kept it going by sheer stubbornness. He opened the passenger door and Aelin saw a cat, fluffy with splotches of orange, brown and black over her, but it had little white socks and white on its nose and down it’s chest. Then added to that there were what looked like tabby marking on it as well. It was a very pretty cat.

The cat mewled at Rowan as he opened the door.

“Pearl, it’s ok,” Rowan said as he rubbed at her chin. “Sorry for leaving you.”

Something about seeing Rowan be so gentle with the animal had her heart squeezing.

“What’s wrong?” Aelin asked softly, trying to keep the cat calm.

“She’s got a cut on her back leg, I think she was playing around in the barn and maybe a nail was sticking out. I thought it might need stitches,” Rowan explained. “I would have taken her to the vet but they’re closed and the on call vet is already on call out of town. I just... maybe can you help?” Rowan all but rambled.

“Can you bring her out to the tray so I can get a good look?” Aelin asked. It was dark out but Rowan had conveniently parked under one of the lights in the car park.

Aelin watched as Rowan lifted Pearl out of the car as gently as he could and Aelin laid out a disposable mat. Then Rowan laid the cat down, the poor thing mewling sadly.

“I know, I know,” Rowan said, patting the cat again.

Under the light Aelin could see what the problem was. There was a pretty nasty gash on the cats back thigh. Well she assumed that’s where it was, she wasn’t acquainted with the specifics of cat anatomy. It would need to be closed up so she didn’t lose any more blood or get an infection. Aelin took two heartbeats to come to her decision.

“Alright, this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to shave away some of the fur, then close the wound. I obviously can’t sedate her in anyway, so you’re going to have to keep her calm and as still as you can. Can you do that?”

Aelin didn’t doubt that he could and Rowan nodded.

Aelin started up the clippers, “Here we go.”

Rowan large hands held down the cat, even when she nipped and yowled her distress. Aelin shaved away the hair around the wound before cleaning with a mild antiseptic she hope would be fine to use on cats. Then she opened a pack of Dermaclips, gently but firmly sticking them to the cat’s skin. Without the poor thing being sedated Aelin didn’t want to use a needle and thread and this way the vet could easily fix any of Aelin’s flaws. Aelin pulled the tabs and closed the wound, Rowan still comforting the distressed feline. Then she pulled out a bandage lifted Pearl’s leg slightly so she could start wrapping it. The cat hissed but Aelin kept going, she needed to make sure the cat didn’t attack the wound if she left it uncovered.

“Almost done,” Aelin said, securing the bandage. “There.”

Rowan gave the cat a little more space and she immediately sat up to look at her leg.

“Please take her to the vet, I have no idea if what I did was okay,” Aelin said removing her rubber gloves.

“I will, it just wanted to get the wound closed,” Rowan said as he bundled the cat against him.

“She’s lovely,” Aelin said as she packed up her things. “How old is she?”

“About three, she’s a rescue so I’m not exactly sure,” Rowan said.

“Oh, I have a dog about the same age,” Aelin said. “She’s struggling a bit with the move to a place with a tiny backyard.”

“Yeah? You should bring her out to the farm sometime, let her run,” Rowan offered. “I should get Pearl home.”

Aelin smiled at the cat who still looked royally pissed off. “Good thinking.”

“See you around, hopefully not here,” Rowan said and climbed into his truck, still murmuring to Pearl comfortingly.

Aelin grabbed her things and headed back to the hospital. She was almost at the doors when she realised Rowan hadn’t given her his address, turning back she saw he was well and truely gone. His offer seemed very genuine, and Aelin would very much like to see the farm that caused him so much trouble. Rowan may not have given her his address, but she knew where to find it.

~~~~~

Tags:

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cowboisadness · 4 years

Text

Hang Em’ High {FemOC x Arthur Morgan} Chapter 8

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC

Summary: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

.....

Today it was back to doing the ever so mundane chores around camp, conversing with the other girls whenever we got the chance and when we knew Grimshaw wouldn't scold us for not doing work. Dutch was the leader of the gang, but Grimshaw kept everything running, kept everyone in line when doing the daily duties within the camp. God forbid anyone that crossed her, whether she thought us girls were taking our sweet time or the guys lacking in keeping up with their personal hygiene, she wouldn't go easy, even on her good days. Thankfully I haven't been on the receiving end of her fury, well, not yet anyway. When supper was ready in the evening and all chores were done, I thought it best to take a bowl over to the poor boy they had tied to a tree when I arrived. Kieran, his name is, apparently one of the O’Driscoll boys. Although he didn't seem like the type that would run with them, given the information I had been given regarding the rival gang. Kieran was now able to wander the camp, under the watchful eye of the others that saw him with nothing but contempt. He wouldn't get fed if it wasn't for us ladies. He kept himself busy with the horses most of the time, they wouldn't hurt or insult him after all. I approached him with a hot bowl, disturbing him as he brushed through The Counts mane, the beautiful white Arabian belonging to Dutch. Handing him the bowl he looked to me with hesitation, a few seconds passing by before he reached out to retrieve it.

“Don't worry, me nor the stew bite.”

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Bella”

“...Miss Bella. I hope you won't get a tellin’ for giving me this. Some of the other girls have.”

“Ya gotta eat. Besides, I'd give them a tallin’ back if they do.” He smiles slightly, finally taking a spoonful of the stew.

“How's my girl doing then?” walking over to my mare, stroking her nose and getting a playful nudge to the palm.

“She's a bit feisty sometimes but she's a good one. Does she have a name?”

A name. There's a lot of meaning in a name. I'd need something strong, something steadfast and with purpose. She's feisty but that means she knows what she wants. She seems the type that will set her mind to something and be determined to get it, like a hunter. Looking up to the darkening sky, clouds clearing to present itself with the most beautiful array of blues and blacks, adorned with tiny kisses of light.

“Orion.” I say with a point, keeping my eyes on the constellations above. “After the hunter in the stars. Yeah, I quite like that.” I look back down as she nudges me again, looking for any sweet treats I may have on my person. I give her another rub on her nose before turning back, giving a bye to Kieran as I make my way back to the stew pot.

After everyone had ate and the sun had fallen beyond the horizon most of the camp gathered around the main fire to share a few drinks. Arthur and Lenny decided to head into town for a few drinks instead, promising they will be back in a few hours and to keep out of trouble. Hosea gave them a doubtful look, reminding them that they were laying low. Pearson shared a few stories of his time in the Navy, everyone listening as they drank. Abigail soon retired to bed with a tired Jack in her arms, bidding everyone a goodnight. Couple of bottles later, Hosea was now the one to share stories. Ones of gripping heists and hilarious cons they carried out many years ago before the gang grew into what it is today. Laughter shared amongst everyone over the fire, rising into the air with the smoke. Before the alcohol could hit me in a way I would regret in the morning, I left the others to their merry stories and drunken tales. Curling up on the bedroll I let the distant chatter lull me to sleep.

…

By Morning I was woken by Karen, snaking me side to side, willing to awake with a loud whisper.

“What's wrong Karen?”

“Them two idiots must have got themselves locked up last night. Come with me to get them out?”

“Why me?” Sitting up I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and looked to her, confused.

“The others are too hungover or are still asleep.”

“Okay, just give me a moment to get sorted.”

“Wear something instead of pants.” She ordered before walking off.

I did as instructed, donning a simple collared white blouse, sleeves stopping just past the elbow. Blue skirt and blank belt to tie it all together as one. Meeting Karen at the horses we decided to take Arthurs and Lennys horses, given that they chose to walk to Valentine last night.

It didn't take long to get to Valentine, the town quickly waking up and going about its usual business. Men tending to their livestock and other men drunkenly stumbling home, or wherever they went to sleep off the alcohol. We made our way through the mud ridden street, stopping outside the Saloon to hitch the horses.

“You a good lier?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't want to risk the Sheriff or a Deputy noticing me. You go in and pretend you're a close relative of those fools. Flash that smile and flutter your eyes at the guy. Persuade him to release them for little to no cost.”

“Would he really fall for that?”

She began to ponder for a few seconds, thinking of something that will be easy and would with minimum effort“Do you have a ring?”

“No. I sold mine.”

“Here, take one of mine. Play as a disgruntled wife that is getting sick of her husbands' shenanigans. Sweet talk him.” She said, removing one of her rings, a dainty gold band and handing it out towards me,

“You mean flirt with a lawman?”

“Sure. He's a man it will be easy.” She could see I wasn’t unsure about this whole thing. Sure I know how to lie. Quickly learning a few weeks after being married then keeping it up for months. It was one thing to lie to that bastard and random people that didn't matter, but to lie to the law, well, that's something I didn't want to involve myself with.

“If he somehow finds out who they are and the bounties they have it will take a lot more than this to get them out.” With that I took the ring from her that was still in her outstretched hand, fitting it snugly onto my finger before turning away towards the Sheriff's building, leaving Karen with the horses and without another word. Seems like lying to the law is just something I'm going to have to get used to. Lucky for them I'm a good liar.

Standing outside of the door I inhaled deeply, putting on a slight scowl and pushing the door open. I didn't pay any mind to the man sat at the desk, instead making my way to the cells. Arthur and Lenny were in separate cells, the latter awake and looking very sorry for himself. He looked up, blinking a few times to make sure he was seeing correctly, shaking my head at him before turning to the man that was trying to get my attention while still sat at the desk. It wasn't the Sheriff, just a Deputy, a young one. This should be easy.

“I can only apologise for whatever trouble my husband and his friend caused Deputy”

“A pair of drunken fools starting fights they are.”

“It seems my husband won't accept that he has a low tolerance when it comes to whiskey. I hope it wasn't too serious.”

“We have a low tolerance for violent drunkards in this town miss.”

Placing my hands onto the table and swaying myself towards him slightly to minimise the distance between us and ignoring the chatter behind me as I looked down at my hands “I’m really at the end of my whits with him. Why couldn't I have married a decent man? I hope he didn't cause you trouble when bringing him in. Although... he might be a big oaf I’m sure you would have no trouble against him”

“Well, it didn't take much to fling him in that cell.”

“I bet you're used to more dangerous and violent bad guys huh? Your girl must get so worried knowing what sort of monsters you have to deal with.”

“I have no girl to call my own miss.”

Moving to sit partly on the desk, giving him a delicate smile and keeping my attention on the boy below. “Really? Any woman would be lucky to have a brave, principled man like yourself. Instead of a fool that spends all their money on drink and can't even handle it. A man that can take care of a town knows how to take care of his lady.”

“Bella” Arthur calls

“I’m not speaking with you!” I didn't look away, keeping my eyes locked with the young deputy, faintly trembling in his seat. Leaning over towards him, now peering at him through my lashes and lowering my voice for just him to hear. “I promise these idiots won't be any more trouble for you, But if they even cause the slightest disturbance...I'm willing to be punished personally for it.” I smirked at him then licking my lips and leaning over his desk to the point I could feel his quickening breaths on my face. He was frozen in place, looking to me like a cornered doe. Without faltering eye contact I shot him a wink, breaking him out of the trance. Breaking away from the intense eye contact he fumbled with the keys attached to his belt.

The keys rattled in his hands faintly as he went to open the cell doors. I blessed the stars that it was a naive deputy I faced instead of the Sheriff. It could have gone completely different and not as smoothly if it had been.

Leading the boys outside without a word to them, I turned to the Deputy as I approached the door, fiddling with the knob so plainly with delicate fingers. “Thank you. I will remember to hopefully repay you some time.” Shooting him a wink I walked out the door before he could say a word.

What a sad site they were. Lenny vomited on himself once outside and Arthur was sat leaning against the post. Both unable to open their eyes properly as the morning light burned and made their heads throb.

“I’m just gunna have a little sit-down and...feel sorry for myself”

“Oh no you ain't. You and a few others have to go rescue that Sean fella.” He grumbled as I stood beside him, waving off Lenny who had been found by Karen, both of them setting off back to camp.

“What happened last night?”

“Don't remember.”

I huffed at that. Alcohol does one hell of a job on folk. I pulled him up, steadying him on his feet before practically dragging him to his horse, deciding that I would sit up front to take us back to camp.

Javier, Charles, Arthur and Trelawny were the ones going to rescue Sean, who was being held at Blackwater. Everyone was on edge for their safe arrival, none of them wanted to be anywhere near Blackwater right now. It was late afternoon before the beat of hooves could be heard coming up the path. Javier had returned with a loud Irishman at his back. The camp ran to meet the two, thankful for Sean's safe return and Sean replied with a shout about needing a strong drink or five. The camp's whole demeanour was flipped on its head in a matter of minutes with crates of beer and whiskey being pulled from Pearson's wagon and placed around the fire. It was time to celebrate. Arthur and Charles arrived as the first bottles were being passed around and opened, everyone collecting around the fire. Dutch gave some words on how happy he was that Sean was finally back and safe and everyone was soon talking merrily. Javier retrieving his guitar and some joined in on his song. Sean shared stories of his capture, though obviously exaggerated. Hands waving in the air for dramatic effect. Karen sat closely by his side. Arthur came to sit in the space between me and Sadie with a bottle in hand. Looking between him and the bottle he just shrugged. It seemed the rescue mission helped him get over his hangover.

“And who is this lady?” Sean bellowed as he approached.

“Annabelle, but you can call me Bella.” I smiled up at him, raising my hand for him to shake,

“Well, well. It is my pleasure miss Bella” He took my hand but instead of shaking it as I expected he pressed his lips to the back. “Where did they find you then?”

“Long story. Arthur helped me escape a less than ideal situation I would say”

“Swept up another high society lady hey Arthur”

“Shut it, Sean” Sean raised his hands in mock defeat at that.

“Just jesting Englishman. But I would love to know how you do it. I'd say she's prettier than the last. Hopefully a bit wilder.” Sean began to back away, hands still in the air but with a grin on his face.

“I wish I left you hanging from that tree.”

I couldn't help but laugh slightly, pursing my lips together to stop as Arthur looked at me with disgust that I would even entertain the Irishman.

The drinks went quickly throughout the night. Everyone singing, Uncle breaking out his banjo and others got up to dance. The alcohol was starting to take effect on me too, despite telling myself to only have a couple. It was obvious that everyone needed this. Needed some good news and a reason to celebrate.

Abigail and Jack were the first to leave even though Jack was very much awake and enjoying the liveliness around him. As the moon got higher and the night was truly set, one by one people stumbled to their tents or bedrolls. Leaving only a handful of us around the fire, sharing stories of alcohol-fueled shenanigans they got up to over the years. I had none to contribute, seeing as this was the drunkest I have ever been. I was dizzy and euphoric at the same time. My balance was unsteady and I felt like I was spinning even while seated. My body felt lighter, more at ease. Any worries I had were gone and buried. Living in the joy of the moment. Arthur and Sadie and I sat in front of the log instead of on it as we all progressively got more inebriated. The log keeping us upright and more stable. The fire before us began to die down as the celebrations did, the rest going to bed. Just Arthur and I left around the dying fire, still supping what little was left of the bottles in our hands. I didn't want to sleep, I wanted the celebrations and singing to carry on till daybreak. But my eyes started to feel heavy.

“How was the rescue?” I slurred, turning to Arthur

“Fine. Didn’t die.” His accent even thicker thanks to his drunken state.

I exhaled a laugh and a loud snort followed. My hand shot up to cover my mouth, basically slapping myself in the face, eyes wide at the noise I just made. Arthur looked at me wide-eyed also, equally taken back. He began to laugh, I soon followed. The two of us giggling into the night. My eyes were getting heavier and heavier by the minute, along with my body quickly losing its feather-light feeling. Moving myself I leaned into the log, resting my head on my hands upon it. In my current state, this was more comfort than any plush bed could provide. Before I knew it my eyes were closed, sleep overtaking me.

#hang em high #hang em high fic #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemtion 2 #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan x oc #rdr2 fic

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hotpotrandomfics · 3 years

Text

Fourth Year: Butter Beer is our Negotiator

Summary: Jason and Merula rivalry has gotten to the boiling point and Jason is sick of always competing with as her ego tends to blind her. It takes some talking with Ismelda to insert an idea for the benefit of her, Jason, and the entirety of Hogwarts sanity...

Word Count: 3,073

"Admit, I am right, and you're wrong! Say it!" Merula said as she slammed her fist on the coffee table of the common room, clearly unaware that her housemates were onlookers onto another argument between the house's resident trouble child and the cursed child.

"Your argument has little fact to back it up, Merula. Can we just drop it?" Jason signed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly annoyed with Merula false claims. "I don't even think you bothered to read that chapter, so how can you tell me that scurvy grass is not part of Befuddlement draught? We just went over that chapter yesterday."

Merula and Jason's argument had been going on for thirty minutes straight, and it didn't seem it would cool down despite their head of house looking in on the two. The two's heat was almost suffocating to the witnesses of the clearly pointless banter between the two. Professor Snape was about to make his presence known but stopped when Rowan grabbed Jason by his robes and pulled him away, which honestly defused some of the tension in the hair with a bit of laughter.

As Rowan was taking Jason away, Merula kept on shouting at the boy and quite visibly fuming from her ears. It was only until Ismelda called Merula attention that the young witch realized half the house was staring at her. Merula gave a glare to her housemates, who went on back to their business. Merula left the common room with Ismelda to the training grounds, where she began to beat on one of the practice dummies.

"Stupid, know-it-all, cursed, unbelievable jack-!!" Merula yelled as she cast a barrage of Flipendo on the dummy. "Can you believe he had the nerve to go ahead and say that I am wrong?"

"Well, you were half asleep during yesterday's review over the potions for our next test." Ismelda fiddled her scarf end while staring off into space while Merula abused the dummy. She knew that her friend was bound to get mad but give that it was the truth, and that was something difficult to accept. Primarily because of her pride in herself. Ismelda then glanced at Merula, who was giving her a "are you serious" look, to which she responded with a small smirk and a raised brow. "What?"

"You're supposed to be on my side here." Merula places her hands on her hips, looking at Ismelda then sighing. "It's just so annoying how he acts like he knows best, and I can't stand that."

"But he does pay attention heavily in class. You can't really fault him in that Merula," Ismelda comments as she adjusts her scarf, "and, you two always have this constant back and forth since our first year."

"Your point?"

"As far as I can say, he seems to be smart, albeit annoyingly smart, and do you notice how he's not very confrontational with you?"

"And?"

"Random thought, can't believe I'm saying this, have you consider just burying the hatchet?" Ismelda asked as Merula looked at her, almost dumbfounded at the mere idea of making peace.

"No. Absolutely not gonna happen because I'm sure he'll relish at that me showing weakness."

"Merula, that's not how that guy is, and as annoying as it may sound; he is way too easy to compromise with him. If you want my opinion-"

Merula raised her hand, getting Ismelda to stop in her thought as she didn't want to hear another word. Shrugging, Ismelda told Merula she was going to make her way to dinner, leaving her friend to keep destroying the training dummy until she was calmed a few hours later. As the night slowly encased the night, Merula wiped her brow and started making her way back to the dorms. After grabbing her hygiene items from her dorm room, she began to go make her way to get cleaned up.

"Merlin, the fact she could even think of that is beyond lunacy. Compromise? Pffft!" Merula muttered as she turned the knob to turn off the shower. She then when on two dresses herself in nightclothes, a pair of pajama shorts with a tank top. While she was doing the last of her evening route, she couldn't help but hear Ismelda words ring in her ear, causing her to get groan in frustration. "Why is it whenever I'm trying to do something or prove I'm right he is the first one to try and prove me wrong?" Merula left the girl's bathroom and was making her way back to the dorm when she saw someone coming in her direction.

"Great," Merula muttered as a clearly sweaty Jason passed by with his own clothes for the evening. He wasn't in his full uniform, but that alone wasn't able to hide the subtle definition of some of his arms from Merula. What does he do? Play catch boulders with Hagrid?

Jason smiled at her only to receive the kind gesture of Merula, turning her head in annoyance. His smile slowly fades as he walked past her to make his way into the boy's bath. Merula looked backed only to see the door close. What was that?

"Did I make him sad?" Merula pondered that thought for a moment but then made her back to the dorm to get some sleep. As she laid down on her bunk Ismelda tossed a book to Merula's bed. "What the hell-"

"You forgot this after your lover spat with Aurelius De Leone. Khanna gave it to me since you know his whole love for books. Anyway, you do get the argument was kinda stupid, right?" Ismelda sat on her bunk, grabbing her notebook for history. Knowing how things would go in three, two, one...

"Lover spat! Like hell that would ever happen! So what if I forgot about yesterday's lecture! Maybe I was just testing him is all!" Merula said as she slammed her fist on her bed, scaring one of her roommate's cat that seemed to hide under her bunk for some reason. "If he's so smart, then maybe he should be the professor. I know I am better than him!"

"Merula."

"What?"

"Has he ever stated that to you? Like at all?"

Merula paused to think if Jason did ever say he was superior to her. As she pondered the thought, it concluded that he never once deemed himself better than her. It only survived to make her feel the pit of emptiness she tried to hide by her false and abrasive confidence.

"No. Not a single time."

"Look, he's not as horrible as much as you want to believe." Ismelda got up from her bunk and sat on the edge of Merula's bed. "Maybe it's time to try and compromise. Or don't. You'll do whatever you want."

"Blimey, can you stop trying to preach to me about making?" Merula tossed her pillow at Ismelda. "Fine, I'll try. Maybe..." With that, Ismelda went to her bed and fell asleep while Merula began planning her strategy to "make nice" with Jason, and hopefully, it wouldn't be difficult. Surely a guy as nice as him wouldn't hold a grudge, right? This thought began sowing the seed of doubt as Merula slipped into a rough sleep of thinking of the worst-case scenario.

The next day...

"AURELIUS DE LEONE!" Merula shouted down the corridor and frightening an unsuspecting fellow Slytherin and causing him to drop a stack of papers he was carrying. Merula bit her lip as to hold back a fit of laughter growing from her counterpart's mishap. Jason looked to her with a slight groan and crouched down to pick up the mess he had to clean up. Merula winced slightly at the look he gave her, "okay, not the best way to get his attention," Merula knelt down to help him out.

"So any reason you wanted to give me a heart attack "out of the blue," was the saying?" Jason asked as he stood up, taking the papers that Merula had picked up. "I am in a rush to get these to Professor McGonagall."

"This will take a second." Merula stated as she wasn't going to take a 'no' or Jason running off from her. At least, if she intended to chase him around the school for the hundredth time in their lives.

Sighing with a nod, Jason decided to hear Merula request and hoped it wouldn't be something stupid or life-threatening in the least.

"You and I are going to the Three Broomsticks, and we are going to bury the hatchet. Believe it or not, I," Merula looked to the ground avoiding his curious gaze, "I am getting tired of this rivalry of ours in the sense it doesn't seem as much as I believed it was. Despite my 'misconduct' with you and your goodie goodies, you have not once tried to take vengeance and have been Nothing but kind to me. So we are solving this tomorrow, and you have no choice in the matter. F-first," she forced herself to speak, "first round of butterbeer is on me. Be there at ten! No excuses or I'll burn your robes!"

"O-okay." Jason nodded, feeling slightly terrified and yet excited. "Would this kinda be a date? No! Stop, she doesn't like me like that. Or like me, period. But she wants to get along?" He shook his head to ignore the thought of the little voices in the back of his head. Well, it seems these plans would go really good or really bad for Jason.

After Merula had made to turn the corner to see Ismelda giving a small grin. "Don't you dare!!" Merula thought as she glanced at Ismelda, who held her hands in a mock surround before her face returned to its usual stoic appearance. No doubt, Ismelda watch the entirety of the talk between her two housemates and couldn't help but still have a minor look of amusement. The two Slytherin girls walked off to their next class in silence as Merula (for lack of better) was excited for the interaction with Jason to come soon. "Would it be considered a date? The way it looks, it seemed like I was asking him out, wasn't it? Oh by all that is holy, if I find out rumors are getting spread, I'll kill someone."

The rest of the week had gone by, and the dreaded but exciting day for the two Slytherins was to come, and for all of Hogwart's sake, it didn't fall apart into a duel that would destroy the entirety of Hogsmeade.

Jason stood outside of The Three Broomsticks looking at his watch, nervously tapping his foot. He dressed in his preferred ankle-length black boots and faded ripped blue jeans that seemed loose despite the use of a belt to keep it up. Jason wore a silver and black plaided flannel with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his developing forearms, which carried an off-white cargo jacket in case if the weather got cold. He'd grown quite a bit compared to his first year at Hogwarts, both physically and mentally. But at the end of the day, he was still a kid who was nervous about his "not date" with his rival, former bully (and his secret crush).

"Where the heck is she?" Jason muttered to himself. "If this was a prank, then it wasn't a very Snyde plan." He thought to himself but was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard an "ahem" from behind him. "Holy shit." Was the only thing that came to Jason's mind when he saw Merula dressed to the nines. "Negotiation is either gonna well, or I'm dying tonight."

Merula looked at him with a frown, "what?" she asked, slightly annoyed.

"Nothing, it's j-just your outfit. It looks good." Jason turned his face from her view while he scratched his neck nervously. "Why did you say that? Are you an idiot?!"

"Oh," is all Merula thought as took Jason's compliment as a slight hue of pink came across her cheeks. Merula had dressed in a plaided skirt with her beloved boots and black stockings, a violet tank top that read "Grunge Punk," and a sweater cut with the bottom half cut off. Hang of her waist was a pair of belts and purse in hand that seemed to throw the outfit all together.

"Thanks," Merula said, barely audible for Jason to catch.

The two teens stood in a silence that held before Jason suggests they head inside instead. The two stepped in to see that it was as lively as ever. He and Merula took a booth in a corner away from the vibrant noise of the shenanigans of the young and older wizards and witches. The two placed their orders after a moment of brief silence. Merula eyes darted up to Jason then back to the table while trying to figure out what to say.

"I don't understand what I should do. I mean, I get this was my idea (Ismelda's), but what can I do? This is beyond uncomfortable, and I'm sure he rather just -" Merula thought to herself as she was pulled out of her thoughts by Jason giving an audible cough.

"So, Snyde," Jason gazing at her with a stern look on his face, "why do you want to stop this feud? Now?" He was genuinely curious as she never showed general interest in conversing with him unless it was to her benefit. Despite himself, he still wanted to listen and hope that something had to come of this; something good.

"Aurelius, we have been fighting for too long, and if you want my honest opinion? I am quite exhausted as it hasn't been beneficial, nor will it really satisfy my interest." Merula leaned forward, chin on her hands with a sly smirk. "But I am still willing to keep this feud going if it allows me to prove I'm superior."

"I do not doubt your skills, Merula," Jason looked out of a window, "if anything, your efforts have shown you're constantly improving. I'm not so simple-minded that I don't notice my "nemesis growth." Why now?"

"Aurelius..." Merula struggled to find the words. It wasn't her to fall short in terms of words but still was unsure of how to proceed.

"Merula?"

"I..."

The tension was cut short after Madam Rosemerta brought their butterbeer, respectively. "You two may not want to hear this from, but you both look quite cute together. Aye, but I am not going to assume too much." She left the two teens gobsmacked and confused as to the wild declaration from the owner of the fine establishment.

"Did she just-?!" Merula stuttered while blushing redder than a cherry. "Why would she think that?!"

"I don't want to know." Jason sighed with a blush as he took a swing from his drink, feeling the smoothness run against his mouth. "Anyway, mind if I say something?"

"I would expect you to anyway. That's how negotiations work." Merula replied, recomposing herself.

"Alright," Jason smirked as leaned forward, maintaining eye contact. "I want us to become friends."

"Friends? Seriously? I thought you'd ask me to leave you and your friends alone."

"Look, despite what you may think, it would be better if we are. I wanted us to be friends for a long time. We don't always need to get along or fight, but you are someone I respect." Jason traced the rim of his glass, looking into the contents of it with a flabbergasted Merula. "Merula, I like to hope and believe in the best in most, even if some might think otherwise."

"Otherwise?"

"I don't think you as bad as you portray yourself."

"I thought I was supposed to be the one starting this, but there you go taking the lead like with everything." Merula found herself laughing but not out of her usual need to tease but finding joy in Jason's actions. "It is quite admirable how he takes charge without realizing it. Wait, what am I saying?"

"Sorry," Jason rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly, "I'm just honest is all, and it's really what I think."

"My God," Merula covered her mouth to stifle her laughter but only failed again.

"Stop laughing!" Jason pouted at her.

"I can't help it!"

"God, I swear Snyde, I am gonna steal that butterbeer and drink it myself!"

"Oh?" Merula leaned forward with a smirk. "You got some guts trying to get between me and my beverage. Your death will be quick and painless."

"Uh-huh," Jason rolled his eyes but smiled at her with a slight chuckle of his own.

"You really don't think I am that bad, huh?" Merula said as she sipped from her drink.

"Never have."

"You're an odd one, Aurelius."

"So I've been told, but I am who I am," Jason shrugged.

Merula couldn't help but smile at his words because she knew he was honest, as it always showed in his eyes. Remembering an old story of her mom told her of how the eyes were the "windows to the soul." Despite it being a fairytale idea, she liked to believe it, even if it seemed outlandish as she felt that someone could see into their soul if someone could look you in the eye. Not many did look Merula in the eye as Jason did her, and for that, she was grateful as it let her be able to read him. Albeit, not too much but enough to know he's truthful.

"If you want to be friends, then does that mean I can borrow your notes?" Merula joked, getting a laugh out of him.

"Sure, but please don't put syrup in my coffee," Jason said with a grin.

"Oh, that was one time. Maybe two or three."

"I knew it!"

The two spent the rest of their time discussing the terms of the friendship. Some of the conditions were crazy, like how Merula wasn't allowed to use and spells on Jason more than a few times within a single week—not fighting like animals at the beginning of each school year. The craziest from Merula was actually another chance to hang out with Jason, but he had to have the entertainment approved by her. Slowly but surely, they would reach a final agreement between the two housemates, and hopefully, the feud between them wouldn't rise again. Unless Merula put syrup in Jason's coffee...

#harry potter hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm fic #hphm fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #hphm mc #jason piscius aurelius de leone #jason x merula #jacob's sibling x merula #merula snyde #ismelda murk

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loserslibrary · 5 years

Text

pairing: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier [Reddie] written by: Jane rating: Teen word count: 2,306 prompt: “ hello! Could i please request a domestic reddie fic! Anything with kids will make me very happy, thank you ”

Richie’s resigned himself to a lot of things in his life.

Some which are still true—he’s never going to be able to fucking ice skate, giraffe human that he is, but he’s found a workaround in being very good at letting Eddie pull him across the ice—and some which aren’t—namely some thought-to-be hopeless yearnst for Eddie when he was sixteen which culminated in two very dramatic song-writing sessions, proven unnecessary five months later when Eddie captured his lips in a kiss at the quarry.

Still, one thing he hadn’t been expecting to resign himself to was his lack of future as a PTA Dad, and yet, here he is. 35 years old and seeing his brief dream of being the cupcake god of Ms Divega’s class turn to smoke before his very eyes.

Literal smoke, that is.

“Daddy,” Gab says, nose scrunched up, tone solemn, “they don’t smell good.”

His daughter is highly critical. Unfortunately, she’s also correct.

Richie reaches to open the oven, before pausing halfway, glancing at the smoke he can already see, and then back at Gab. There’s a teenage Eddie in the back of his head, lecturing him and Bev on all the different types of smoke, and how they’re all bad for you, stop inhaling carcinogens, you fucking nerds—-okay, Richie can’t actually remember the entire lecture, just the way Eddie looked with his hand on his hip and brow furrowed, but he’s pretty sure that the takeaway of it is that he should probably move his daughter well out of range of any smoke that might escape when he opens the oven door.

“C’mon, Gabs,” Richie says, scooping her up in his arms. Her arms settle around his neck obligingly, and he’s overwhelmed with affection. There were legitimately days when Richie had thought he’d never have anything like this—when he thought it would be swallowing his feelings down forever, watching all his friends find something worth holding onto, staying on the sidelines because he couldn’t be brave when it counted. But look at him now: married to the love of his life, getting paid to make people laugh for a living, and baking health hazards with his daughter. He’s always had dreams he’s striven for, but none of his imagined happiness ever came close to how he feels now, burnt cupcakes and all.

He puts her down on the other end of the countertop from the oven, then hands her a tea towel. He leans in close, like he’s about to tell her something Top Secret, and she leans in eagerly. “If the oven explodes, just, like, fan it away,” he says conspiratorially. Her eyes widen, but she nods firmly, her face settling into a resolute expression. For someone with no biological relation to either of them, Richie thinks, it’s astounding how much she looks like Eddie when she does that.

He heads back to the oven and, with a quick exaggeratedly wide-eyed glance at Gab, he opens the door. Smoke immediately emerges, and Richie’s stuck fanning his hand in front of his face and coughing for a few moments until it dissipates enough for him to actually see. Grabbing a tea towel to cover his hand, he reaches in and pulls out the cupcake tray, dropping it on the stove top with a wince and slamming the oven shut.

“Mission success,” Richie says, giving Gab a thumbs up.

She surveys him and the cupcake tray dubiously. “They look bad,” she says bluntly.

“Okay, Operation Survive The Smoke was a success,” Richie relents. “Operation Cupcake God is still in progress.”

“Operation what?” Richie hears, and turns to face Eddie, who’s surveying the kitchen like he can’t decide if he should laugh or groan.

“Operation Cupcake God,” Gab repeats matter-of-factly. “Daddy’s going to take over the PTA like Darth Vader. ‘Cept I think he shouldn’t cut off Mrs Colby’s arm because she needs it to bake brownies and I love her brownies.”

Richie throws Gab a betrayed look. “How am I meant to overthrow her PTA dictatorship if she can still bake brownies to tempt you with?” he asks her.

“Not by serving these, that’s for sure,” Eddie says, prodding one of the cupcakes with a chopstick—where did he even get that?—and sporting the same dubious expression Gab was before.

Gab clambers across the kitchen bench, peering at the carnage, and Richie swings her off, anchoring her to his hip. “Don’t get too close,” he warns, “the oven’s still hot.”

She throws him a very unimpressed look, and Eddie laughs. “He’s right, Gab,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “It’d hurt.”

“Is it because we acciden’ly made a volcano?” Gab asks frankly, looking at the carnage with a curious expression. She leans over to poke one, forgoing Eddie’s chopstick and simply using her finger, and lets out a distressed huff when she touches it. “It’s hard.”

“Too bad this wasn’t for science fair,” Richie says. “She’s got a point about the volcano thing.”

Eddie laughs. “What’s Operation Cupcake God for anyway?” he asks. “Casual Thursday afternoon world domination strategies?”

“It’s the class party tomorrow,” Gab informs him, “and everyone always wants to sit by El because her mom makes the best brownies and I want them to sit by me.”

Eddie’s expression doesn’t lose its amused undercurrent, but it softens into fondness, and he reaches for her. She obligingly puts her arms around his neck and Richie hands her to Eddie. “I see how it is,” he says dramatically, “I’m the favourite until he’s home, huh?”

“Yep,” Gab says cheekily, before cackling with laughter when Richie squawks in outrage and proceeds to tickle her sides. Eddie, because he’s stronger and has more control of his limbs than Richie could ever hope to, keeps hold of her even through all her wriggling, though he takes mercy after a few more seconds and moves her out of reach of Richie’s hands.

“So, Operation Cupcake God is purely about Gab’s popularity, hmm?” Eddie asks, giving Richie a knowing expression.

“There may have been some newly-discovered dreams of being her class’ Peak PTA Parent,” Richie admits.

“I thought that might be the case,” Eddie says with a grin. “Why didn’t you ask Ben for help? Or Mike? Mike’s good at directions.”

“I’m good at directions!” Richie protests.

Eddie gives him a flat look.

“Well, I’m better than Bill,” he grumbles.

“Not exactly a winning argument, Rich,” Eddie says dryly.

“Ben’s got, like, an actual job,” Richie says. “And Mike—well, I probably should have called Mike, but like, I didn’t realise we could recreate Chernobyl with a cupcake recipe.”

“I’ve learned to never underestimate you two,” Eddie says, pressing a kiss to Gab’s nose, making her giggle.

“Hilarious,” Richie says, but he can’t help but give them a fond smile. God, he’s so fucking happy. He has been for years now, but it still never fails to take his breath away.

“Yeah, Jason called, he’s giving me your next gig instead,” Eddie says.

“You joke, but he definitely thinks you’re funnier than me,” Richie grumbles, before brightening. “Though the idea of you on stage is amazing.”

Eddie visibly shudders, and Gab gives him a concerned look. “Yeah, for you, because you enjoy my suffering,” Eddie mutters. “I’d rather help you stage this PTA mutiny than that.” He notices Gab’s expression, and nudges her forehead gently with his own. “You and I are happy sticking in the garage, right? Daddy can have all the stage he wants.”

Gab giggles. “Yeah,” she allows, before adding, “‘cept when we’re dancing. We’re way better at it than he is. I wanna be on stage then!”

Richie laughs. “Yeah, okay, rugrat, if I get the call for Dancing With The Stars, I’ll send you in my place,” he tells her. “You’ll be half their height and still the best dancer there.”

“Will I get a trophy?” she asks seriously.

“Absolutely,” Richie says. “All of America will vote for you—well, actually, America and voting systems don’t really have a good track record, but I trust the public to make better decisions with pop culture than politics.”

Gab gives him a blank look, and Eddie stifles a chuckle.

“You’ll get a trophy,” Richie promises, “but first, your dad promised to help us with Operation Cupcake God—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eddie says, “back it up—when did I agree to that?”

“You said you’d help with the mutiny!” Richie says brightly. “Didn’t he, Gabs?”

Gab nods. “You did,” she says clearly. “I heard you. PTA munity then we hang in the garage.”

“Mutiny,” Eddie corrects gently, then sighs. “All right, fine. Let’s clear all this up, then start again.”

“Why do we need to clean it up? It’s just gonna get messy again,” Richie points out, which he feels is a reasonable objection.

Eddie throws him an incredulous look. Richie’s pretty sure Gab has no idea why that’s the expression he’s choosing, but she mimics it anyway. Double trouble, those two.

“A lot of reasons, like it’s going to be harder to clean later if we leave some of this stuff too long, and hygiene reasons for clean workspaces, but mostly that we only have one cupcake tray,” Eddie says, delivering his final point like the closing remarks of some law drama. Which, Richie has to admit, is kind of apt, because it’s a pretty hard point to argue against.

“Yeah, okay,” Richie says, but he swoops down and kisses Eddie on the side of his head, and then Gab on her forehead.

“What was that for?” Eddie asks, but he’s smiling, and the look in his eyes is so soft that Richie thinks he could die of it.

“Just overwhelmed with love for you, Eds,” he says, and it sounds like a joke, but it’s not, it’s not, and it never has been. Eddie’s always been good at seeing the truth behind the laugh—except when it came to him, but they’re well past that now, thank fuck, and now Richie gets to tell Eddie he loves him every day and not only does Eddie know he means it, but he means it back—and Richie’s glad for it every fucking day.

“Sap,” Eddie teases, but his expression is so fond that Richie thinks his chest might actually split from all the love welling up inside.

“Yeah, yeah, stop trying to distract us from the cleaning,” Richie says instead, ignoring Eddie’s huff of indignant laughter. “C’mon, put down the rugrat, she and I can tackle the volcano if you want to find an actual cupcake recipe that works.”

“You managed to cause this much chaos by following a recipe?” Eddie asks incredulously, but obliges.

“I mean, loosely,” Richie says with a shrug.

“This is what I meant about directions,” Eddie says, but he’s laughing. “Show me the recipe you had, I’ll see whether it looks useful.”

Richie nods his head towards his iPad—discarded on the couch in all the chaos—and turns to Gab. “You ready to scrub like our lives depend on it?” he asks, before adding in a stage-whisper that he’s perfectly aware Eddie can hear, “because they probably do.”

Gab starts giggling uncontrollably, and Richie turns his head to see Eddie pulling the finger at him. Richie’s face stretches into a grin even as he puts his hand over Gab’s eyes.

“Why, I never!” Richie says in his best Southern Belle Voice. “The absolute scandal of it—Gabs, I don’t know if you’ll ever be allowed to look at the world again. I’m simply gobsmacked—and from a gentleman, no less!”

Gab’s full-on cackling now, and Eddie’s laughing too, and everything in Richie’s chest feels light. She laughs at his Voices just like Eddie did when they were kids—though Gab actually thinks they’re good. To be fair, they’ve improved a lot, and Eddie probably had a point when they were younger.

It takes them a few minutes after that, mostly because Eddie and Gab would finally stop laughing but then catch each other’s eyes and set each other off again, but they eventually get the kitchen cleaned and a suitable recipe identified. Fixing the cupcake tray is an absolute mission until Gab has the bright idea to pour boiling water on the charred mess—“Like when we have to get blu-tack out of Saffy’s hair in class,” Gab says sagely, to which Eddie looks absolutely horrified—and it makes the burnt cupcakes soggy enough that they can scoop them into the trash with a spoon.

Even making the cupcakes is a lot easier with Eddie. Richie thinks everything is probably easier with Eddie, though he has to admit that following the recipe properly probably has some effect.

“Okay, sweetheart, what colour icing do you want to do?” Eddie asks.

Gab sticks her tongue out the side of her mouth as she thinks.

“She looks like you when she does that,” Eddie says quietly, and Richie starts.

“I didn’t know I did that,” he admits, and Eddie laughs.

“Only when you’re thinking really hard,” he says, then pushes onto his tiptoes to press a kiss against Richie’s lips. “It’s cute.”

“Cute, cute, cute!” Gab says, and Eddie looks at her in amusement.

“Where’d you hear that one, Gab?” he asks with a grin.

“Daddy says all your photos are cute, cute, cute,” Gab informs him.

Richie shrugs. “What can I say, Gabs? He’s always been so cute.”

“You’re cuter, though,” Eddie says to Gab, and she beams.

“Okay,” she agrees happily. “Can we do pink?”

And maybe Richie’s never going to be the Peak PTA Parent of Ms Divega’s class, or even just be allowed to bake anything without supervision ever again, but that’s okay. Watching Gab squeeze the piping bag too hard and Eddie lick his fingers of all the excess she got on him, Richie thinks he’s already got everything he needs right here.

#reddie #reddie fic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #ours #ours: reddie #domestic #with kids #fluff #by jane

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honeysuckle-writings · 4 years

Text

DANGANRONPA AUTUMN WEEK 2020

DAY 2 : HOLIDAY AND TOGETHER

AU: Post Game Simulation V3

lmao i rushed this because i wanted to add so much so its messy and im sorry

It had been a couple of months since a small group of school kids with extraordinary talents had been forced to endure a traumatic life changing event. Slaughtering each other left and right and having to kick start survival senses just to make it through. Even if it was all virtual, the pain of dying and the pain of betrayal was all real for each of them. Although through the misery of a killing game, these kids found a bond between them all, having learned all of the best and worst parts of each other.

After they woke up, they had made an oath to always keep in touch and check in on each other no matter where their future paths may take them. So far, that vow had stood strong. As the seasons changed and the healing continued, they made time for each other.

The air outside grew colder and colder until dew from the day began to frost as the sun disappeared in the horizon. Kaede Akamatsu and Shuichi Saihara walked down a long asphalt paved driveway towards a large white home that reminded the both of them of a mansion from movies. Complete with carved pillars and a green garden outside with flowers that popped against the white and cream of the structure. The grass around the property looked like it was just as green as golf fields.

Kaede held a tub of cookies in her mittened hands while Shuichi carefully walked a pitcher of apple cider he had homemade with Kaede not too long before their departure.

“I knew Kirumi was well off with her talent but jeez!” Kaede’s bright voice cut through the cold.

“I’m not r-really surprised.” Shuichi responded, shivering and stuttering.

Kirumi Tojo had decided that they should meet up for the holidays and have themselves a “Friendsgiving.” She informed everyone that she would be making the main dishes but if anyone had anything else they specifically wanted, she would welcome the aid.

“I’m so excited to see everyone! They’re all getting a big hug whether they like it or not!” Kaede always spoke with such determination and confidence and luckily that same attitude had slowly begun to rub off on Shuichi.

“I’m s-sure they’d l-love that.” Shuichi turned to look at her and smile before glancing back towards the front door.

As they had gotten closer, they noticed a fall wreath hanging on the front door. Yellows, browns, and oranges littered the leaves and flowers that circled it. As they stepped on to the small stairs that lead to the porch, they saw a couple of the flower picks had fallen off; hot glue bubbles still on the ends. Shuichi determined that this must be a homemade wreath.

Kirumi would not have let her creations fall apart like that. So they wondered just who would have taken part in the decorations.

Kaede reached out her hand and softly knocked on the wooden door. It only took a moment before an excited Angie swung the door open.

“Ah! Atua told me that it was you two!” She tilted her head from side to side.

“Don’t listen to her. She looked outside the window and noticed Kaede walking up!” Tenko shouted behind her. In her hands was a banner with many fall colors.

“Nyehh…” A small voice beside Tenko mumbled. “Tenko, I can’t put that above the window. I’m too short. I have to save my magic for dinner.”

“Don’t worry Himiko! I will get it and all you have to do is hold the end and look pretty!” Tenko grabbed Himiko’s hand and pulled her off towards a grand window facing the front of the house.

Angie bounced on the soles of her feet before moving out of the way to let Shuichi and Kaede through. “Now we are just waiting on Gonta! I hope he did not get lost! Atua would be very upset if he did not make it in time for the turkey!”

“Oh I’m sure he will get here! We just have to be patient.” Kaede nodded and then walked further into the house to find the dining room. Shuichi shut the front door behind him and trailed after her.

As they passed through the living room, more and more familiar faces appeared. On the large sectional sat Tsumugi, Hoshi, and Korekiyo. The three of them were facing towards the TV that was mounted on top of the fireplace in the middle of the wall. Korekiyo, sat criss cross on an arm rest of the sofa, kept his attention on a small book that he had brought with him. Tsumugi and Hoshi sat on the cushions, their attention on the TV that had the Netflix menu on it.

“Tsumugi. It’s Thanksgiving. Can we not use my account to watch your trashy cartoons please?” Hoshi’s calm deep voice questioned her. He leaned back and adjusted the candy cigarette in his mouth, something he always kept to curb his previous addiction.

“Not all of it is trashy! I can find some very sweet slice of life animes! Like Ouran! Or Fruits Basket!”

“I don’t care what’s in the basket. I just don’t want it in my watch history.” Hoshi pulled his beanie over his eyes and sighed.

Shuichi had to bite his lip so that he didn’t outwardly laugh at the quick witted response. Kaede didn’t want to get involved in that argument and moved forward into the hallway.

“You little fucker!” A shrill voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Get your short ass back here!”

A small figure zoomed out of a room and into the hallway. Of course Kokichi had gotten himself into trouble already.

“It’s your fault your hair is so long! Maybe you should cut it or something? I hear being bald is totally in right now!” Kokichi giggled and raised a finger to his lips, a signature move as he teased.

Iruma followed into the hallway, holding strands of her hair. “You better open your tiny little mouth and get to eating this shit out. I am not about to let it dry and ruin my beautiful blonde hair!”

“Don’t you know how to use a hairbrush? Or do you not know hygiene either?”

“That’s it. Say you’re fucking prayers!” Iruma lunged forward but a hand covered with rings wrapped around her forearm.

“Iruma. It’s just jello. It won’t ruin anything.” Rantaro came into view. He let go of her and folded his arms across his chest. “And Kokichi. This is a special time. Don’t waste food by throwing it at people. We’re literally trying to celebrate being thankful.”

Kokichi sighed loudly and slumped his shoulders. “Fine.” He drug the word out in annoyance. “I’ll just go steal the remote from the weeb or something then.” He turned on his heel and pushed past Shuichi and Kaede down into the living room.

“Hey guys. Sorry about that.” Rantaro’s previous firm attitude fell and the normal carefree one appeared. “Guess I gotta keep a better eye on him while we are here.” He put a hand behind his neck and looked down at their hands. “Oh yeah Kirumi is in the dining room now looking to place the food. So go right ahead.” He moved out of the way and followed Kokichi’s path.

Iruma had been messing with the strands of hair, trying to pick the food out. “He’s lucky that Rantaro was here to protect him. Again. One day I’m gunna beat the shit out of that little twink.”

“Ah I think he’s just, just trying to g-get a rise out of you.” Shuichi offered.

“I don’t want that kind of rise for me!” Iruma smarted off, making Shuichi shut his mouth quickly.

“Okay!” Kaede interrupted. “We’re going to go set these down then!” She wanted to cut it off before it got anymore vulgar. Shuichi nodded and the two of them started towards the kitchen.

“I’d close my eyes before walking through there.” Iruma warned.

“Why? Is the food cooking in there just that appetizing? Will we want to eat it the minute we see it?” Kaede’s eyes widened with joy.

Iruma blushed brightly. “Uh. No!” She struggled to find words. “Worse! Actually just go see for yourself. Embarrass him more while you’re at it!” She let out a boisterous laugh before turning her heel to another room down the hallway that had to be a bathroom.

Shuichi and Kaede exchanged looks before walking into the kitchen, slightly afraid of what they might find. What they didn’t expect was the see Kaito and Maki in the middle of the room. Kaito leaning on a cabinet with something in his hand in front of Maki, keeping her in place.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Wrong holiday.”

“Isn’t it close enough though?” Kaito’s voice pleaded. “Come on. It’s tradition.”

“Yes. For Christmas.” Maki sounded like she was way past done with the conversation.

“So you admit that you’ll kiss me under the mistletoe at Christmas.” Kaito smirked and looked down at her with his “famous smolder.”

“I am not admitting anything. I am stating a fact Kaito.” Maki’s face flushed and she reached up to play with the hair that had fallen in front of her shoulders.

That’s why Iruma had mentioned embarrassing someone. Kaito had mistletoe and had been trying to get Maki under it.

“Sidekick help me out.” Shuichi didn’t think Kaito had noticed him.

“I uh, uhm. Well.” Shuichi stumbled on his words.

“See? He agrees with me!” Kaito said matter of factly.

“He just stuttered like always.” Maki glared.

“Yeah and I can understand his language!” Kaito leaned back offended. “Don’t hurt his feelings like that!”

“Why don’t you get him under that first then.” Maki challenged.

“I will! Get over here sidekick!” Kaito stomped his foot down and motioned for Shuichi to come forward.

Shuichi panicked slightly and shook his head. “Actually Kaito uh, actually I n-need to take this to Kirumi. You just, uhm, just keep trying.” He struggled to appease the taller male in front of him. He ducked his head nervously and turned into the grandiose dining room, Kaede giggling behind him.

The room had a yellow mood lighting with a large table in the middle. A white lace table runner down the middle with some plates already sat at the chairs. At the end of the table they found that they had finally met their goal. Kirumi and Kiibo stood down at the end. In Kiibo’s hands were two sets of plates that Kirumi would reach for as she set the table.

“Oh hello Kaede. Shuichi. It’s so wonderful to see you.” Kirumi’s pleasant tone was a nice change from the chaos they had just previously endured.

“Kirumi is letting me learn how to properly set tables!” Kiibo seemed genuinely excited to be able to help out.

“That’s wonderful Kiibo!” Kaede looked for a place to set her tin of cookies and gestured for Shuichi to do the same with the pitcher.

“We just have a couple of plates left to set and then everyone can come and eat.” Kirumi gently placed some utensils down into a designed napkin.

“I do not believe Gonta has arrived yet. I am hoping he will be here soon.” Kiibo pointed out and frowned in concern.

“Gonta will make it in time. It’s part of being a gentleman.” Kirumi pointed out and placed her hands in front of her on her skirt. Kiibo took the last set of plates and placed them on the placemat along with the proper utensils.

“I think we are ready now.” Kiibo nodded.

“Alright. Well why don’t the three of you pick your seats while I go and inform the others.” Kirumi seemed to glide as she exited the dining room.

It wasn’t long before the empty spaces were filled with bodies chattering with each other. Kirumi was back and forth putting the main courses on the table. Angie sprung into the dining room with a large figure behind her.

“Look everyone! Gonta made it! Atua helped guide him to us! How divine!” She collapsed her hands together before sitting down next to Himiko. Everyone lifted their heads and greeted him with delight.

“Gonta very sorry everyone! Gonta not sure what to bring as gift but finally found amazing thing!” Gonta held up a wrapped present and smiled wide.

“Gonta why did you bring a gift?” Kokichi questioned.

“Well Gonta just do what Miss Kirumi tell him. It Friendsgiving. So Gonta bring something to give friends!”

Kokichi began to laugh loudly. “Gonta you are so gullible! It’s a play on Thanksgiving! It doesn't mean giving to friends!”

“Oh!” Gonta’s face fell. “Gonta so sorry everyone! Just wanted to do the gentlemanly thing.”

“You did.” Kirumi walked back in for the final time and took the gift from Gonta. “I will go ahead and open it. Alright?” She peeled the wrapping paper away to reveal a diorama of different beetle types. Something used for educational purposes in the classroom. “This is wonderful, Gonta. I am sure we will learn a lot from this. Go ahead and have a seat.”

Gonta nodded before sitting down next to Kokichi and unfolding a napkin to put in his lap.

With such varying personalities, the chances of them all being friends under normal circumstances was low. However, they were all grateful for the friendships they had gained and found within each other. Kirumi cut into the turkey and served a piece to each person. Everyone was just happy to forget about their lives for a while. Despite everything that happened, this holiday was panning out to be one of the best ones they’ve had.

#i dont re read anything either #you get what you get #danganronpa autumn week 2020 #dr autumn week 2020 #drv3

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tsukidotcom · 4 years

Text

Haikyuu HC to COVID-19 (Karasuno edition)

This is horrible 💀 im just so bored so I made whatever this mess is KFJSJDMSK enjoy

Hinata Shouyou

huh? isn’t it just the flu?

“No, hinata. People have died from it-“

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH-

goes bananas

whenever someone sneezes or coughs, his soul leaves his body as he runs away to sanitize/wash his hands for a miserably long time.

eats an expired can of peaches thinking it’s his last resort

lowkey happy school is closed because homework sucks

but also highkey hates it because now all volleyball tournaments are closed

then gets all angry when he realizes he’d have to do online school???!!?? like wtf he got jipped.

thinks they could still do volleyball if they did online calls cus if the school can do it,, then vOLLEYBALL CAN

will probably miss half of the class calls from oversleeping/forgetting anyway.

sheepishly ask yamaguchi, yachi or tsukishima for help on assignments/notes. (he will NEVA ask kageyama. he’s always in competition with him here!)

still practices volleyball 24/7 in his backyard or room (maybe even with his baby sister??)

He’s really good at practicing all by himself from practicing all alone in middle school—

but will probably go crazy being alone all the time with his family. he just wants to play volleyball with the team again.

looks up “what to do when you’re bored” or “what to do at home while in quarantine” on youtube

Kageyama Tobio

probably says he’s immune to the corona because he’s just better than everyone else

doesn’t really think it’s real until school shut down because of it

When he sees that corona is airborne he wont know what that means so he’d probably think it’s produced by air itself?? which makes him think air is trying to kill the human race?? and will be so confused as to why it decided to pop up now???

DESPISES online school. He had enough trouble understanding it from the gecko, so now he has to learn it basically all by hiMSELF?!?

And no way is he just gona email the teacher for help. If he does it’s gonna be only once in his lifetime. Anymore than that he thinks he’s doin too much. He doesn’t want his teachers thinking he’s dumb 😭

he says literally nothing during the calls he just tries to pay attention? and fails because he’s on a computer. in his room. alone. he’s bound to daze off or stare at a pen for 5 minutes.

Obvi still practices volleyball. Very much misses it. At least Hinata had his sibling to practice with him. tobio is a lone wolf in his household.

When his mom goes out to get groceries he gives her one of those doctor masks so she doesn’t catch corona.

Few moments later through the internet he realizes that corona is smaller than air molecules so if you can breathe through something you could still get it so he struggles for an hour thinking he just killed his mother

When his mom is back he keeps his distance in case she’s carrying the plague

omg did she just cough or am i imagining things no she definitely coughed she has corona oh oh god

In reality she was just clearing her throat.

is lowkey worrying about everyone and how they are 🥺 (yes, maybe even hinata).

thinks he’s science smart by calling it covid-19 than corona.

Asahi Azumane

He just worries about everyones health

like he just imagines the worst case scenario’s and starts to get really worried if people got it. Always checks on everyone and asks if they’re feeling any symptoms of corona ❤️

He’s either not gonna get it or he gets it and dies there’s no inbetween

but he’s jesus himself so theres no way he nor anyone in his bloodline can get it

is very happy to know that dogs can’t get it.

Takes online school seriously and tries his best

And is honestly so sad school just ended??? even if it’s temporary, he could be learning, playing volleyball, and going about his day instead of staying in a cage. he’s a third year so—how would graduation even go..?

always is up to date on the news !! and notifies everyone if anything important is added/changed.

Always tells everyone to stay safe! Whether through text or before ending a call.

only buys a lot of toilet paper from the fear of there being no toilet paper in stock since evERYONE IS BUYING IT-

Starts to try new hobbies that he put off for the longest time cus quarentine is rlly getting to him.

Is all out a family guy so he doesn’t mind the extra time with his family.

Nishinoya Yu

OAOAOAOAOAOAOAOAOAOA

420 blazin’

thinks going outside means you’re instantly gonna die from corona attacking your white blood cells (????)

but also probably doesnt care as he goes outside like everyday to run around and get rid of energy (and to practice volleyball, of course).

also why is it called white blood cells when blood is red ☠️ smh

Buys 101611018320129 bags of chips because that’s his comfort food

yay more gaming time!!!

Noya🐒: Tanaka do u wana play minecraft 2getr latr?

Tanaka🍌: HELL YEAH!!

doesn’t shower for three days straight because screw personal hygiene!! No more school!!! Can do whatever he wanted!! It’s basically summer!!!

until he’s forced to do online school.

Is def the class clown. Probably somehow kicks the teacher out of the call through a little bit of hacking.

“alright guys so i’ll be you’re substitute teacher for the day-“

tbh acts the same as he would in school. maybe a little more rebellious because, i mean, what is the teacher gonna do? send him to DETENTION? call his mOMMY?

Calls/spams literally everyone in his contacts because he’s so bored and lonely. Answer him!! Y’all will be on facetime for hours!!

He’s fun to facetime.

Will call you a loser if you don’t have an apple iPhone because then he can’t facetime you and facetiming is one of his favorite things to do to pass time (besides gaming)

HE A TRUE GAMER

Okay but he lowkey still tries at school for the sake of his grades and his future ;-; maybe calls asahi or sugawara for help??

always looks up his homework on the internet to see if he can get an answer key or something (he did that anyway even before corona but)

will do one subject for 3 hours thinking he’s finally done with everythinf till he realizes he has like 4 other subjects and needs to do those too.

Sending memes all the time

Tsukishima Kei

oh, what about corona again?

honestly could give NO fucks??. like ABSOLUTELY ZERO. nonxistent.

doesn’t even remember it’s still happening half the time.

is surprisingly very knowledgeable about corona.

he’s just smart and sciency¿ so he understands the ins and outs of corona like how it works and how its spread.

so if you tRULY want any update or background info on the corona virius, ask Tsukishima.

bitch don’t touch me you have rabies.

doesn’t care that he’s obligated to stay at home because he would have stayed either way. he very much likes being alone.

might go a little crazy cooped up in his room so he’ll hang with his brother/family or go outside before he says ‘okay that’s enough’ and goes back to his room.

isolation? oh okay *puts on headphones*

he rlly gonna be rocking it out in his room cus he can listen to music all day any day

developes a really bad sleep schedule since he had no way to get rid of the energy he got rid of at school.

still a huge tease so he says everyone has the corona virius.

is never online on social media which means he’s never up to date with his frIENDS. Doesn’t have a clue what those dipshits are doing and could care less (besides yamaguchi,, they probably facetime or call thru skype or something).

I bet the whole volleyball squad has a groupchat and honestly he puts all notifs on mute cus his phone keep goin DING DING DING DI DING ID DID IDKNG DING DIG

Brother: Omg why are you getting so many text messages?

Tsukki: Shut up

if he is online on the gc and he texts it would be simple replies like “Hi” “Okay.” “No.” “Goodbye.” and then he’s gone for another week

every first year is begging on their knees for tsukishima to give the answers or help them out and he obviously says: go do the hw yourselves idiots

besides yamaguchi!!!! again!! cus theyre gay for each other

maybe practices once in awhile with his brother or alone in his backyard but he doesn’t care

Tanaka Ryuunosuke

buys 101817 pounds of toilet paper because everyone else is? but not because of the same reason as asahi. he thinks toilet paper is the cure to corona.

GO STUPID AAAAAAAAA GO CRAZY AAAAAAAAAAA-

probably has a part time job at a grocery store so he still has to go to work 😭 i dont even know how he could have a job in the first place he’s probably always late-

still gamin with noya of course

GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM IM PLAYING MINECRAFTT

also buys like all the junk food thats in stock. and since he works at the grocery store he gets a ton of coupons and deals.

texts Kiyoko everyday goodmorning ❤️❤️❤️ and goodnight 😘😘 texts just to be left on read.

“i love it when she ignores me !!!”

scrolls through tiktoks for 1000 hours to pass time

School Is For Losers!!

similar to noya, he thought it was basicaly summer until he realized they were gonna be doing online school. literally had a fit and said he didnt wanna do jack squAt

Laughs so hard when nishinoya somehow kicks the teacher out of the call he’s like laughing so loud and hard he starts crying

all of the sudden has a better view on school

gets excited when he sees nishinoya on the call

makes funny and ugly ass faces when the teacher isn’t looking. everyone laughs and the teacher’s like 🤨

probably uses the green screen effect so he can change hus background (somehow) and accidentally misclicks a file so a girl wit a bikini becomes his background for .5 seconds before changing it to a cursed meme:

doesn’t get half the shit the teacher is talking about

but it’s okay because the half he doesn’t get is the other half noya gets

and the half noya doesnt get is the orher half tanaka gets

they’re two peas in a pod 🥰

until they try explaining it to each other and suddenly get confused?? mental malfunction ¿?

yeah im SMART!!!

s -

m -

a -

r - penis

t -

Daichi Sawamura

quite calm about the whole coronavirus

like he knows it is serious and understands how it is spread but he’s still calm about it??

tells everyone to sanitize and wash hands on a regular. and social distancing!!

honestly still wakes up like he does on normal school days and does all his academics just fine.

he even does gym activities (besides volleyball) for 30 minutes to an hour!!!! he be running on that treadmil! getting stronk!

does each subject on his own for 20-40 min each day. he’s really good at self discipline

makes sure sugawara and asahi are up to date on school work and will gladly help.

sadly can’t help the first years (and probably second years) because that info is deep in his brain and basically forgot how to do it after a year or two of not using it.

VERY VERY VERY sad that volleyball nationals are cut off. this is his last year and for it to be??? gone??? just because of some flu?!?! hates it.

he wishes school to go back and still has hope that school will go back to normal in a couple of weeks (even though it’s a slim chance).

asks the teacher questions whenever he has questions. He’s also vv considerate so he’ll ask questions he knows the answer to but asks them for anyone who’s confused ab it/wants to ask but is too shy. (literally i lov daichi sm)

Eats a healthy amount of everything

asks asahi for any updates on corona even though he’s quite up to date himself. he just wanna make sure he didn’t miss anything.

also doesn’t mind being around his family. he’ll do more chores around the house to help his parents out :> he’s literally perfect wtf

def does worry about everyone in the volleyball gc and anyone else he has contact with. Will also email classmates and ask if they’re doing all right. Even away from volleyball he’s a team player ☺️✌️

Is happy for the rest of the day when asahi tells him dogs can’t get corona.

Yamaguchi Tadashi

oaoaiquqhdkoaiaagadjsiwi?

doesn’t know what to believe anymore

keeps in touch with everyone!! always online 24/7 on social media, vball gc, you name it.

Literally everyone is acting so normal why are people so calm am i the only one worrying about this and the worlds future like this year has been really bad so far for not just me but the whole nation actually the entire world honestly like war almost broke out in january and now this corona stuff is really buttering my crissont the wrong way-

Even though tsukishima literally gives No Fucks, yamaguchi is the complete opposite.

like tsukki and yamaguchi call on skype and eVERY TIME yamaguchi starts with ‘how have you been? do you feel sick at all? have you drank enough water today?’ and so on

“What are you even worrying about?”

“Well...what if you get the corona virius?... it can be deadly, you know!! Thousands of people have died from it!!! The fact school is shutting down and people are panicking is making me feel like i should be panicking-“

Tsukki will then snarkily reassure him it’s fine and people their age are the least likely to get it bad.

Yamaguchi will feel a little better afterwords

“Thank you, Tsukki!”

Tsukki will ‘tch’ it off

Even though he gets really good grades he has triuble finding motivation to do any school work?? doing school work in his own home? 😐

His home was kinda a place he can chill whereas school is a place he can be fully focused

but now his home is ALSO school??!!?

Luckily he understands the work, at least.

When he sees tsukishima on the call, too, he instantly says hello.

“Tsukki!! Hey!! 😁”

“Shut up.”

“Gomen, Tsukki.”

Yeah. Even when they aren’t at school, he’s still the same as always.

He takes extra care of his family and always stays in touch with other relatives. Especially grandpa and grandma. THE SECOND he learned elderly people are at more risk you bet your ass he’s calling them making sure they’re okay. He checks up on them everyday now.

He peobably practices volleyball a little, too. He’s more focused on schoolwork though.

Sugawara Koushi

Have you guys ate dinner yet? 🥺

obviously checking up on everyone

he would fail as a mother if he didn’t.

Actually reads in his free time?? He finally has time on his hands to read these books so.... here we are!

Wakes up at a scheduled time everyday (minus weekends. Maybe sleeps for an extra hour or so).

He dresses in pjs rather than actual clothes because he’s not going anywhere with this social distancing thing.

Always tries to lighten the mood when all the students are on the online call. Maybe crack some joke or innocently play around with the effects.

He still pays close attention in class and does quite well on his own. No help from his parents! He can do everything on his own! He a big boi!

Does homework really well, too. Probably does extra work or more work than needed just because it makes him feel good afterwords.

Honestly i can see him cooking in his free time. If he doesnt feel like reading or scrolling mindlessly through his phone, he gonna cook.

Will make the best cookies in the universe.

HAS A HECK OF A SWEET TOOTH. NOT A DAY GOES BY WITHOUT HIM GETTING HIS PRETTY HANDS ON SUM TREAT

Honestly isn’t too good with exercise so he might gain a few pounds or grow the smallest chub 🥺🥺🥺 he would be so cute omfg.

is realy involved with his family!! they play a board/card game every friday night and have the best time.

if he has a dog, cat, or literally any animal you know he’s gona be hanging with them since he has more time.

Still! Playing! Volleyball! I mean by now every boy is practicing at least a little bit. He would probably be in his backyard playing volleyball with his family. Theyy’d set up a net and everythin! They’re all rookies at it but he still cherishes the moments with them.

It’s honestly still practice. Better than nothing

He talks about how his family plays volleyball and everyone is so jealous like 😭😭 makes him more grateful hearing half the volleyball team saying they have to practice alone.

Watching youtube videos of random videos/vines making him giggling.

“Hey, Dachi, look at this video.”

IS A SWEETHEART STFU !!!

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big-bad-ulf · 4 years

Text

It’s All Fun and Games || Ulfric & Tasmyn

Timing: Sunday 28th of June Parties: @tasmyn-pearce, @big-bad-ulf Summary: Ulf and Taz go to the carnival. Strength is tested. Prizes are won. The mythical dog lion is found. Warnings: None guys everything’s fine!

Ulfric could hardly believe he had set foot on the carnival grounds again, but as he’d emerged through the ever-present fog and stepped across the threshold this time, he’d found the pressing desire to leave immediately that had come over him before wasn’t there. In fact, the flashing lights seemed less glaring and the screams of the patrons less grating than they had during his last visit, despite both his vision and hearing having sharpened since then with the waxing of the moon. A small part of that had to do with the fact he’d remembered to wear dark tinted glasses to help with the light problem, but he suspected the larger part of it had to do with the reason for this visit. Rather than attending out of obligation, like he had with Orobas, he was there this time by his own choice simply because he enjoyed Tasmyn’s company.

It had been so long since he’d gotten the chance to spend time with anyone for that reason that the occasion necessitated a special effort. Which was why he’d showered in an actual shower for the first time in weeks in preparation (though, he thought, in his own defense, when eyeballs had been trickling out of people's plumbing the mountain stream on his property had seemed the more hygienic option) and why he’d arrived early to purchase a greeting gift before he headed to their agreed-upon meeting spot. “It’s good to see you again, Tasmyn” He greeted her warmly when he got there, carrying a stick of cotton candy bigger than his head. “I must confess, I did already have to pay the carnival a visit, though purely for business reasons.” Or in the interest of the pack, anyway, which was close enough. “I used my familiarity with the venue to get you this though.” He offered the humongous confection cloud to her, almost in apology for not being able to enjoy this experience with her completely unspoiled, before adding as an explanation for its sheer volume, “The person at the stall insisted on giving me the ‘for two’ size when I said I’d be bringing it to someone else.”

Tasmyn usually tried not to make friends when she moved to new places. She had no real intentions of staying in White Crest for long when she had first arrived, but between the fae presence and the constant strange occurrences, and well… the people, she’d come to enjoy living here in a very short amount of time. So what was supposed to be her first stop in America had turned into a place she wasn’t quite ready to leave. And while she didn’t really know the implications of it all just yet, Ulfric was a surprisingly big part of that desire to stay. Which is why she was so thrilled that he was willing to accompany her to the carnival. It had been ages since she had been to one.

She was a little late to the meeting place they agreed on. Or maybe she was right on time? She couldn’t quite remember what they had agreed on. As Tasmyn saw Ulfric approaching, her eyes widened a bit - far more focused on the cotton candy in his hand than anything else. “Oh my goodness that thing is massive!” She exclaimed, a wide smile spreading across her face. Humans always did do the strangest things with food. “Oh, sorry. It’s really lovely to see you again too.” She said, turning her attention properly to Ulfric. “That’s okay! You can use your past visit to steer us away from things that aren’t worthwhile!” As she spoke, she reached over and pulled a clump of cotton candy from the stick, then began to eat it piece by piece. “Wow! This is fantastic. I’m glad the person gave you a ton of it.”

“It’s fine, that’s the response I was going for,” Ulfric laughed at Tasmyn’s reception towards the giant treat, surprised at how much his mood seemed to instantly improve in her presence. Maybe she wasn’t merely human after all, but some kind of… reverse empath? No, he was fairly certain such a thing didn’t exist, and it would’ve been foolish for him to hold out hope that she was more than human when she’d given him no concrete evidence to the contrary. Better to just enjoy this night for what it was instead of pondering what-ifs. Her request had him scratching his beard though, uncertain how to proceed, all of entertainment seemed worthwhile now if it meant prolonging their time together, but none of it had seemed so before. Well, except one thing, he remembered. “I never did find the dog lion. In fact, I’m beginning to think it’s just a myth they spread to lure people in here,” He informed her, caving to curiosity and trying some of the cotton candy himself. It was about as sugary as he expected, but he found himself liking it, nonetheless. For someone who was a natural carnivore, he had recently begun to develop an unexpected appreciation for sweet things. “But if you’re up for hunting a mythical creature,” Ulfric continued, carefully adhering to the human etiquette of swallowing his food before talking for her sake. “It might give us a chance to get to know each other better while we look for it?”

Tasmyn laughed softly, remembering the dog-lion they had talked about earlier. “Well, I don’t know if I’d call a dog in a wig ‘mythical’, but should be a fun hunt regardless! Let’s do it.” Even having only been there for a few minutes, Tasmyn could already feel the energy and admittedly the chaos of the festivities pulsing through her. She could even catch the faintest reading of a fae, no multiple fae nearby. Unfortunately, she knew it wasn't Ulfric since she hadn’t sensed anything last time they were together. What a shame too- he’d be a great fae. After she grabbed another chunk of cotton candy, she started off in a random direction, not really sure where they would keep a dion? log? Dog-lion. “Get to know each other better, right, of course.” She echoed, trying to keep her enthusiastic tone despite the fact that the idea of opening up to someone else terrified her to her core. Especially when it was someone new and she didn’t know how they felt about fae, about spriggans. “So, uh, how long ago did you move to town?”

Ulfric immediately found himself regretting his suggestion as soon as he heard her question. His move and the events that had led him to it weren’t things he wanted to talk about, not if he couldn't be honest about it. Being inauthentic quickly became exhausting and he tended to say what he was thinking too quickly to be a very effective liar in person anyway. That was why he usually let his natural intimidation ward off curious humans and save him the trouble of having to deceive them, but she waited for his invitation to ask, so he’d try and give as honest an answer as he could. “Sixteen years ago, or thereabouts. I left Norway at 19 and traveled around Europe visiting a few family friends before I got my papers together to come in here. I’ve got a few —distant cousins in town,” the werewolf quickly caught himself before saying human cousins. “They assisted me in finding me my first job at a tattoo parlor.” He followed the trajectory in which Tasmyn took off until he spotted the familiar row of gaming stalls, remembering that the Museum of Monstrosities booth and other ‘attractions’ were supposed to be on the other side, a likely location for the elusive dog lion. “Let’s try this way,” He urged, gently grasping her elbow to steer her in that direction. “How about you? I don’t think I’ve ever asked what you do for work. It must be exciting if it took you all the way to Canada for—” At that moment, Ulfric was interrupted by an overeager hawker wearing what looked to be traditional ringleader garb. “Care to try the strength tester?” The young man waved a prop hammer in his face emphatically, gesturing towards an old-fashioned seeming game with a sign that read, ‘Find out what your strength is worth!’. “Prizes awaited only the most fortified among us,” the vendor continued, “And you look like a strong candidate, pun intended. It’s sure to impress your lady friend!” He looked between Ulfric and Tasmyn. Ulfric had only paused to avoid being hit with the flailing hammer, but the hawker’s insistence he replied, “I’m sure she’s impressed by much more worthwhile things,” meaning for that to be the end of it and resume his quest for the dog lion, but finding himself glancing over at her, unsure how she’d want to proceed.

Almost immediately Tasmyn could sense that her question had struck a nerve. She normally tried to avoid questions that dug in too deeply to someone's past, so maybe that wasn’t the right thing to be asking. But he did say that he wanted them to get to know each other better. Isn’t this how humans did that? Maybe she was wrong. As they moved about the carnival, Tasmyn listened to his story about moving here, nodding along and shoving the sweet cotton candy into her mouth. When she felt his hand on her shoulder, she was surprised at the fact that she didn’t tense up or recoil like she usually did when people she didn’t know very well touched her. She didn’t have much time to think about why that was as Ulfric turned the questions back to her now. It was not an easy question to answer. She had been up in Canada selling some names to a contact she had. But that had nothing to do with her actual job at The Codfather. A human could twist words into half-truths and lie their way out of the situation, but she was not graced with such an option. “Well, I work at The Codfather as a hostess.” Taking a moment to choose the right words she wanted to use, “The Canada thing was more like … a favor. For an old friend. More like running an errand, really.” She was thankful that their conversation got cut off by one of the over-enthusiastic carnies. Ulfric was right, she really wasn’t the type to be impressed by brute strength, but when she caught his eye she saw a bit of an opportunity to put a full-stop to this Canada/job conversation. “I dunno, it might be fun!” She said, looking at the prizes in the booth, pointing over to a strange-looking green creature, noticing that none of the prizes resembled real animals, “Besides, that thing’s kinda cute.” She added, looking over to him with a shrug and a smile, leaving it up to him but tipping the scales slightly to change the conversation at the very least.

Ulfric wanted to ask her more about the fish restaurant, find out if she could maybe point him towards a wholesaler who could give him a discount on herring. It had been so long since he had spare to pickle with multiple plagues that had sullied the town’s waterways. But the vendor was still staring at them with urgency, and she hadn’t given him the easy out he’d expected. “Oh, well, sure, In that case…” he stalled for a moment, but hadn’t he said the goal of this outing was to make her happy? If taking a moment to play this game would achieve that, then he wouldn’t turn down the simple request. “Alright I’ll give it a shot,” He relented, giving Tasmyn a small smile but fixing the vendor with a glare as he passed him and slipped him a dollar to play. “You’ll be needing this,” the young man tapped him on the shoulder, waving the hammer at him again. The werewolf took what he offered, barely putting any effort into his swing as he brought it down on the target. Nonetheless, the indicator on the strength meter whizzed to the top with a flurry of lights and clanging bells. “Congratulations, we have a winner!” the vendor called out to the crowd over a megaphone, and despite the ringing in his ears and the ridiculousness of the situation, Ulfric’s inner competitive streak was satisfied with the victor and he broke into a genuine grin. “Here you go!” He plucked the stuffed ‘animal’ Tasmyn had wanted from the display, and presented it to her triumphantly. “I suppose it is sort of charming, in an unconventional way,” he said of the large, oddly shaped creature. It also felt surprisingly heavy, like they sewed a few weights inside it to prevent patrons who lost from running away with it, but he didn’t mention that part.

For a moment, Tasmyn felt a pang of guilt for encouraging Ulfric to participate in this game. Especially since it was becoming apparent that most of the vendors were fae. Traveling fae in a traveling carnival probably meant trouble of some sort. But this was just a silly game, even with Ulfric being human, or at the very least non-fae, a few moments playing the game then moving on couldn’t be much trouble. Could it? Before she could change her mind and suggest they move on, Ulfric had the hammer in his hands and was slamming it down on the machine with a sort of ease. Her face lit up when all the bells and lights began and she instinctively clapped. See?, she thought to herself, harmless. A feeling of happiness swelled over her when she saw him smile - there was a good chance that was the happiest she had seen him look. “Unconventional charm is the best kind there is!” She stated as she accepted the strange green stuffed creature from him. “Thank you for this.” Tasmyn looked up at him with a smile, then leaned in and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. She’d never known a stranger to be this kind to her for no real reason. “So… off to find this mystical dog now, huh?” she asked as she started to make her way in the direction they were headed before they got distracted by the game.

Ulfric was caught off guard by the unexpected hug. Physical affection had been fairly common amongst his old pack, wolves were social creatures by nature after all, but since he’d been forced into exile he had gotten used to being isolated in all ways. The only other person who’d hugged him in years was Ari, and he couldn’t remember ever allowing a human to come in such close contact with him outside of a fight, but he had to admit it wasn’t unwelcome. “Don’t mention it,” He shrugged, pulling back and hoping Tasmyn would interpret any hesitation from him as just the awkwardness of having to maneuver around both the giant stuffed animal and half-eaten cotton candy to return her embrace. “Yes, I will not be discouraged in my search this time,” He agreed, taking after her. They passed the Museum of Monstrosities with its display of various pickled specimens in jars, some possibly supernatural others clearly pieces of mundane animals sewn together. Eventually, he spotted a podium, with an attendant standing on top of it dressed as a lion tamer, complete with plastic whip and next to him was a golden retriever in a messy blonde wig.

“There you are!” The werewolf climbed the podium to pet the dog, which nuzzled into his hand eagerly, recognizing the kinship between them. “Uh, Sir? If you want a photo with our lion it’ll cost you five bucks,” the attendant protested half-heartedly, clearly reluctant to start a conflict with a man of his stature and determination. Ulfric had to tamp down on a small growl before it escaped his throat. The kid was only doing his job, but the exploitation of noble creatures for profit was one of the worst aspects of humanity. Instead, he leaned down quickly, looked the golden retriever in the eyes and stated, “I will make sure these people don’t mistreat you,” vowing to himself that he’d return to check on it before the carnival left town. “My apologies, humans don’t deserve dogs,” He said to Tasmyn as he jumped back down from the platform, huffing a little from the exertion. Which might have struck him as strange except, he couldn’t really think about much else in the presence of such a spectacular beast. “Isn’t he magnificent though? Thank you for indulging me.”

Tasmyn was mystified by everything she was passing by on their search for the lion/dog. There was just so much energy radiating off of everyone around her. She had spent a lot of her time over the past few decades alone, but not really isolated. She was used to feeling alone while surrounded by crowds of people, and while she had convinced herself a long time ago that she preferred it that way, being here and enjoying these festivities with someone else was truly refreshing. “By the way,” Tasmyn started as she less-than-gracefully finished eating the last bit of the sugary treat Ulfric had given her, “What is this called again?” After spending years both hating and fearing humans, it was nice to be near one who she felt some sort of security around.

As they rounded a corner Tasmyn was so captivated by all the foods she was smelling that she almost didn’t realize Ulf run off towards the dog. It didn’t take her long to follow him over to the podium though, laughing heartily when she saw both how enthusiastic Ulfric was and how bewildered the attendant was. She was still smiling widely when he left the dog and came back over to her. However, she wasn’t too caught up in the moment to notice his phrasing. ‘Humans’ don’t deserve dogs. Was he … not human? That’d have to be a question for another day, perhaps. “Truly magnificent! I’m so glad we got to see him. He seemed to really like you, ya know humans say that if a dog likes you that means you're a good person.”

“Do people say that?” Ulfric carefully used ‘people’ this time to counteract his earlier slip-up. Having to close the shop for the duration of the eyeball plague had left him sorely needing to brush up on his mundane conversational skills. “I don’t know how true that is,” he mulled over the statement. He’d always tried to follow the teachings of his pack elders and do what was right for his community, but he’d never really thought of himself as good, more as someone willing to make the hard decisions necessary to keep people better than he was safe. At times, he thought he was more shield than man… But now he’d remained silent for far too long after what was clearly just meant to be a polite compliment. “I’m glad I can at least do something good,” he shrugged and gave her a small smile, trying to dissolve the awkwardness. “Show you a good time.” At that, he stopped and turned back to her fully, suddenly unsure. “Are you having a good time?”

Tasmyn got a bit worried at his question, maybe they didn’t really say that? Maybe she just heard one human say it once and presumed it was a common saying? “That, uh, might just be an English saying.” She added, hoping that would cover her tracks. But his silence made her wary, maybe she had let too many weird things slip… maybe he was putting the pieces together. Finally, he spoke, and she relaxed slightly. His words made her blush ever so softly. She smiled softly and nodded, “I’m having a very good time so far. I got to eat a fluffy sweet candy, you won me this,” she continued, lifting the stuffed creature up a bit more prominently, “and you looked so happy when you got to see that dog! So a great time, really. Are you having a good time?”

“Yes, surprisingly so,” Ulfric laughed as Tasmyn held up the odd stuffed creature again, before quickly adding, “not that I didn’t expect to…” in case she thought he meant he wasn’t expecting to have a good time with her. He had a wonderful time at their first meeting, even with the whole smoke monster debacle. The memory of it had been one of the few things to elicit a smile from him in the disastrous weeks that followed. “Good times have just been hard to come by lately.” He explained and then found himself asking without giving it too much thought, “Would you mind if I saw you again sometime now that you’re back in town? It would be nice to know I’ve got another good time waiting for me if I ever need it.” It was a small defiance of the natural cycles that guided his destiny, to try and line up another pleasant moment and keep it stashed away for a rainy day. But after weathering all the foul things the winds of fate had sent his way recently, he was willing to cop whatever punishment they’d dole out for the minor infraction if it meant he had something to look forward to.

Tasmyn had been expecting to find a fae community in this new town, she had not been expecting to find such a sweet and lovely maybe-human though. Her smile widened and the soft flush on her cheeks reddened at his question. “I’m sorry you haven’t been having many good times recently… though admittedly I do know what that’s like.” For so much of her life, Tasmyn had needed to live from moment to moment. She rarely made plans because plans just make disappointments. However, here in the moment with him it felt foolish not to make plans. Save when she thought her husband was trying to kill them with a smoke monster - every moment spent talking with him and spending time had been the highlights of her time here in White Crest. “I’d love it if we could get to see each other again. The sooner the better in my book. You’re really my first… well, only friend in town. And I always seem to be smiling when we spend time together.”

Her only friend. Ulfric could count the number of humans who genuinely considered him their friend on one hand, and all of them had ties to the mystical world in some way. He normally tried to keep a polite, civil distance from the rest of them as a species, partly because they just didn’t seem to get him and partly because his family would have objected. The former hadn’t proved a problem where Tasmyn was concerned so far, and the latter? Well, he’d finally made the long-overdue decision to stay and build his life in White Crest, hadn’t he? The half-finished cabin in the outskirts was a testament to that. Though his family’s approval still weighed heavily on his mind, earning his place back wasn’t his goal anymore, so it reasonably followed that he was no longer bound to follow their rules to the letter. “It’s a deal then. We’ll see each other soon,” He nodded, the affirmation a measured deliberate choice. There remained limits to how far this companionship could go, considering the danger both of them could be in if his true nature were revealed, but he didn’t see the harm in playing the part of this good man she thought he was, if it was bringing her joy as well. To that effect he added the caveat, “And as your friend, I give you permission to throw rocks at me again if I do anything to make you stop smiling.”

Tasmyn grew up being told there was a hierarchy to the types of beings in the world. Spriggans, all other fae, witches, other supernatural beings, humans, then wardens dead last. But ever since she moved away from her village, she very quickly began to realize how untrue that all is. Spending time with Ulfric continued to prove that to her. He was kind, understanding, and gentle with her - things she used to think were impossible for humans. She laughed when he told her she could throw rocks at him. “I’ll keep that in mind. But I do seem to always be smiling when I’m talking with you.” She took a little look around, taking in the last few seconds of this evening. “Well, I look forward to seeing you again.” As she said that, she got on her tippie toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. When she returned her feet firmly to the ground, she looked up to him and smiled before pivoting and making her way towards the exit.

#chatzy #tasmyn #its all fun and games #wickedswriting #wickedsevent #//all wholesome stuff here #//don't worry about any implications >.>#arc: a test of strength #//read the dates on my calendar wrong rip the 28th

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cinnaminsvga · 5 years

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La Douleur Exquise Pt 6 | Incubus!Yoongi AU

➵ summary: in which you accidentally summon an incubus in the middle of your shitty apartment and he won’t leave until you agree to have sex with him. until then, min yoongi, incubus extraordinaire, is now your sexually promiscuous and grumpy roommate. aka, the incubus au no one fucking asked for. ➵ warnings: some blood/gore but no actual violence ➵ genre: angst, humor adjacent ➵ words: 8.2K ➵ a/n: HAPPY 6TH ANNIVERSARY BANGTAN!! zee?? writing lde?? sometimes miracles do happen 😌🤟(one more chapter to go let’s get it)

➵ part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7

The sound of birds chirping outside your window are what rouses you from your slumber. You don’t quite remember falling asleep, but you do recall the events of last night despite the fog currently residing in your sleep-addled brain. With your eyes still closed, you hesitantly pat the empty space beside you––a pillow meets your palm instead of the warm body you had foolishly hoped would still find there. You clench your fist around the offending fabric, incredibly saddened by its coldness.

Even though you had expected it, you can’t help but be heartbroken to discover that Yoongi has long since gone. He must have left sometime in the night, maybe even minutes after your breathing had settled for sleep. Despite the ache that you feel, you know that it is for the best that he had left sooner than later. After all, his safety and happiness are what matter in the end, and you are assured that after fulfilling his end of the bargain, he is now free of his contract––

––and free to seek other people to make him happier than you ever could.

There is a bitterness on your tongue that you can’t quite remove, even after you had brushed your teeth for the third time. When you head to class that morning, you know that the bitterness has nothing to do with your dental hygiene.

Your professor drones on about a topic you had long since lost interest in, his sonorous voice filling the large auditorium and lulling his students to sleep. Your pen scratches indecipherable phrases on your notebook, neither taking notes nor writing anything in particular. Occasionally, something that looks awfully a lot like “Yoongi” finds its way into your scribbles, but no one is watching hard enough to verify if this is true.

No one ever needs to know, anyway.

There are only ten minutes left before the lecture ends, and you already have half a mind to start packing up when a knock is heard from the front of the hall. Your elderly professor stops, mid-phrase, hands still up in the air in the middle of wildly gesticulating about some obscure ancient scientist. Everyone’s heads turn to watch as your professor starts mumbling profanity under his breath, probably unaware that his mic was still on. He slams open the door, ready to give the poor student who decided to arrive just before the class was about to end when the intruder pops his head in, ignoring your professor entirely.

The bespectacled young boy glances around the auditorium, scanning the room until they land plainly on you. You squint back; why do his dimples look incredibly familiar?

“Y/N? I need to speak with you right now,” the boy says, before slinking out of the room just as quickly as he had entered.

Everyone switches their attention to you, your mouth agape in confusion. Who was that boy? You are sure you had never met him before, so perhaps he was just a messenger from someone else? Were you in trouble? Was someone hurt? (You hate that your stupid brain immediately goes to an image of an injured Yoongi, but it’s ridiculous to think that, right? After all, no one else knows about him existing in the first place.)

It feels like an eternity by the time you had stuffed all your things into your backpack and made your way outside the lecture hall. You pointedly disregard the stares of your professor and classmates as you quietly close the door. You feel like you should apologize, but you’re sure a remorsefully worded e-mail at the end of the day should suffice.

Exiting the lecture hall, you find that the boy is no longer in the hallway. Instead, a gentleman in a nice crisp suit wearing the same glasses as the young boy stands there, waiting patiently for you. The dimples make a lot more sense now.

Your eyes widen in recognition. “Namjoon?” you ask, confused. Your gaze darts all around the hallway, afraid that someone will catch you speaking with the right-hand man of Satan himself. Although, he does look fairly human, so you suppose everyone would be none the wiser anyway.

Namjoon seems to have caught on to your apprehension. “Sorry for pulling you out of class. And don’t worry, no one will disturb us. We need to hurry now, actually.” His voice sounds controlled and collected, but his body language said otherwise. His hands are picking at his pant seams like they’re unsure of what to do, and there are droplets of sweat dripping down the sides of his temples. He appears as if he had rushed all the way here, even though you know he could have easily transported himself.

“Why? Is something wrong? Is Yoongi okay?” The words slip out of your mouth easily, the worry that had unknowingly been building up in your system suddenly bursting at the sight of his boss. You are not stupid enough to hope that Namjoon’s reappearance was just a matter of simply catching up with the powerful demon.

Namjoon’s lips purse uncomfortably, his figure hunched like he’s holding up an invisible weight on his shoulders. He starts walking out of the building, and you instantly hurry to follow after him. “He’s not dead, but I need you to come with me right now. His trial is about to start, and we need you to stand as his witness.”

Not dead. The “yet” hangs in the air, waiting for its turn.

You try to swallow down the fear, but all the saliva in your mouth has dried up and you find yourself shaking a little. The anxiety builds up to its climax as an image of Yoongi being punished and tortured fills your mind’s eye. It isn’t possible for that to happen, right? Everything should have been sorted out the moment you had sex with one another. That had been the whole point of baring yourself to him––what else could you have done? An echo of his words from that argument you had days ago suddenly flits through your head, and you remember him saying something about sabotaging his mission.

Sabotage… what on earth would cause them to accuse him of sabotage? Why would he purposefully botch his mission? Unless...

You remember the way he had run away the moment you told him you wanted him. You remember how hard he had tried to stay away, right up until the moment you had pretended to be at the edge of danger. He had risked safety for you, you realize. He had risked a lot of things, that night. All because he lo––

You shake your head of those thoughts. No––it’s too dangerous to even think about. If what you’re thinking is correct, then you can’t allow anyone to know about it. Not even Namjoon, despite his obvious care for Yoongi.

“The trial… It should be fine, right? He fulfilled his contract with me, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, but…” Namjoon hesitates, scratching the back of his head as if he isn’t sure on what to say. His trepidation only causes your own to increase tenfold, and you have to stop yourself from grabbing the man by the lapels to demand him to tell you everything he knows.

“Well? Spit it out!”

“I… think it’s better for you to see for yourself. Hurry, take my hand. We might not have much time.”

Just as he is about to place his hand in yours, a flash of light from out of nowhere blinds you momentarily. You yelp, shielding yourself against the dazzling gleam. Beside you, you vaguely register Namjoon crying out as well. The light dissipates, and once the stars have left your vision, you find that the angel who had been supposedly “protecting” you has suddenly manifested by your side.

Seokjin wraps a protective arm around you, and in your dazed state, you are frozen under his hold. When you squint to look at him properly, you are surprised to find that his gaze is cold and unwelcoming––entirely different from the easy-going and senseless demeanor that he usually has. Coupled with the fact that Namjoon is wincing at his brother’s arrival, everything that has happened from the last ten minutes has given you a serious migraine.

“Namjoon-ah, I am not allowing you to bring my charge to hell.” Seokjin cocks a hip, tilting his nose up at his brother. Namjoon snorts at his dramatics, as always.

“I was unable to interfere when she was still bound by your people’s contract, but that is no longer the case. She is staying here, where she belongs,” Seokjin announces, his tone edged with finality. It allows you to snap out of your trance just enough to squirm under his weight.

“Seokjin, let me go!” Despite his lanky body, his grasp on you was stronger than you expected. It is only when he notices that you are having trouble maneuvering yourself in an upright position does he loosen his hold, if only slightly. He still keeps a firm hand on yours, unwilling for you to touch Namjoon in any way.

“Y/N, don’t argue with me on this. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he says, forcing you to make eye contact with him. Petulantly, you slant your gaze towards Namjoon instead, who is looking more and more anxious by the second. He fretfully looks at the watch on his wrist, and you know that there must not be a lot of time left to lose. For all you know, Yoongi could be sentenced to whatever punishment they dole out to demons in hell. What types of punishment do the citizens of hell give to their own kind, you wonder? Nothing you would like Yoongi to experience, no doubt.

“Hyung, I won’t allow any harm to befall Y/N. I swear on my own blood,” Namjoon says, taking the courage to step tentatively towards Seokjin. In an instant, Seokjin releases his brilliant light once more, and while it only blinded you momentarily, it seems to be agonizing for Namjoon, who lets out another blood-curdling scream. You paw at Seokjin’s arm blindly, begging him to stop.

“Seokjin! Please let me go! I need to save Yoongi,” you cry out, tears from both the pain of his angelic light and worry for your beloved incubi start to flow down your cheeks. Hearing your anguished tone, Seokjin stops, wiping your tears away with concern.

“Oh, I forgot. My holy light must hurt you slightly because you had intercourse with that wretched demon,” he mutters, caressing your face gently. It takes seconds for his touch to sooth the pain under your eyelids. Blinking rapidly and squinting around at your surroundings, you are surprised that Namjoon had mysteriously disappeared.

“Wait, where’s Namjoon––” you start, but the angel starts pulling you away, deaf to your loud protests. Students from the previous class start piling out of the lecture hall, but none of them seem to notice that there was a suspiciously handsome and tall man with an unearthly glow around his body. When the two you reach the outside of the building, he finally lets you wrench yourself out of his hold.

“Didn’t I fucking tell you to stop interfering? Of all the times you could have butted in, why must you be a hindrance at the exact moment I did not need you?” You seethe, jabbing a finger at his chest. His face hardens, and if your insides had not been coiling with worry and anger, you might have flinched under his judgment.

“This isn’t like the other times, Y/N. You have no idea what you’re going to get yourself into. Going to hell isn’t just like walking inside your local supermarket,” he says, voice dark. He heaves a sigh, collecting himself as he tries to explain the danger you’d be putting yourself in. “Hell… Isn’t for people like you, Y/N. I was basically born to protect you from ever setting foot in that place, do you understand? Being locked in that covenant with Yoongi was bad enough––why must you constantly put yourself in danger for him?”

Of course you know the reason. Hell, Seokjin probably knows the reason as well. The pain of the words that you cannot speak are lodged inside your throat, suffocating you with the truth of why you cared so much for him.

Yoongi was supposed to just be a demon––a demon you had no intention of ever worrying for. He was never supposed to be an important person in your life. He was never supposed to take so much damn space in your heart.

But most of all, he was never supposed to have been yours to call your own.

“Tell me this, then,” you whisper, lips wobbling already. You might have imagined it, but Seokjin’s stare softens, if only infinitesimally. “Remember when you said you couldn’t deal with my internal problems? Well, Yoongi is my problem now. He’s been my problem for a long time now,” you finish, breathing shallow as the weight of your confession lies heavily in your stomach.

Seokjin stands still as he appraises you, his lips pursing but giving nothing away as you wait for him to say something. When you feel like the silence has stretched on long enough, you give him one last pleading look.

“Please. I’ll stay away from all things damned after this. Just… let me save him, and I’ll do whatever you say.” You ignore the way your voice breaks at the end, and you ignore the way your eyes burn as more tears already start to well up.

There isn’t any reason for Seokjin to agree with you. After all, he is only doing his job, and despite what you might think of the angel, he is only doing what he thinks is best for you. You are at his complete mercy, and the realization hits you like freight train––he’ll never let you save Yoongi. Your beloved is out there, left under the judgment of his peers for a crime that he did not commit alone. Your own guilt consumes you, but there is nothing you can do.

Except.

Except Seokjin’s face has softened. His lips have unpursed, and there is a glint of something residing in his eyes that you immediately latch onto, hope surging through your veins. You clasp his hands, squeezing it so you can show just how much it would mean to you, if he would just let you go.

Minutes pass. Maybe hours. A lifetime. His irises jump as he calculates the odds of you getting hurt. Of him getting in trouble. You dare not breathe, not even for a moment.

And then, his warm hands squeeze back. He groans loudly, tipping his head forward as if in prayer. For all you know, he could very well be apologizing to his Boss already.

“Fine. Let’s go. But I’m coming with you,” Seokjin murmurs, a defeated look on his face. Somewhere along the annoyed lines along his brow, you can see a speck of endearment floating there. You send him a wry smile, nodding in agreement.

“Thank you. I owe you one,” you whisper. He just snorts, rolling his eyes with a grimace.

“Oh, you owe me more than you can imagine. Well, let’s get going then before that stupid incubus gets his ass served,” Seokjin says. He grasps your hand in his, but pauses just as he’s about to transport the two of you. “I forgot. We have to find Namjoon first. I might have accidentally banished him to a parallel dimension a while ago, and I don’t know where the trial is being held, so…”

You give him an exasperated glare. “That’s a bit extra, isn’t it? He hadn’t even been hurting me when you got here!”

“Yeah, but. He’s annoying and he’s my brother. Sue me,” he smirks, and the two of you disappear from your university, as if you had never been there at all.

xxx

After you had located Namjoon floating around in a dimension comprised completely only with lesbians (“Wow, hyung. You really shouldn’t even have bothered picking me up––it’s wonderful here!” he exclaims, before promptly being whacked in the head by Seokjin), the three of you finally make your way to hell.

When you had agreed to coming there, you did not know what exactly to expect. All the imagery you had of hell were from shitty teen angst tv shows and paintings made by horny Italian dudes. You could have at least expected some hellfire, right? Maybe some demons fucking in a corner? Or perhaps there would be some screaming mortals begging for salvation?

You really had not been expecting a dull office building with interns scuttling around cubicles and a broken water cooler beside a wilted potted plant. Well, maybe you expected the wilted potted plant, but everything else?

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” you question, staring incredulously as a (hu?)man in chunky black glasses clacked monotonously on a keyboard. When you try to take a peek at what he was typing, you are surprised to see that he is actually playing a video game with the volume turned down. “These people look to be very… human, if I do say so myself.”

“What?” Seokjin scoffs, pulling you along despite wanting to observe the office workers a little bit longer. Namjoon has already walked ahead of the two of you, but it seems like Seokjin knew his way around the place just as well as he did. Strange, you think. Then again, when has that so-called angel seemed anything but?

“When I imagined hell, I was thinking more… uhh…”

“Hellfire? Destruction? Suffering? Please,” Seokjin laughs, gesturing towards the dead-eyed crowd of white collars. “Does this not seem like suffering to you? That dude over there is fucking playing Fortnite to try and soften the boredom of doing a desk job for all eternity. How much more sadistic can you get?”

“The air-conditioner is broken too,” Namjoon calls out from up ahead, turning to smirk smugly at the cubicle rats. The office workers groan in unison at his blatant violation of human rights, but none of them seem to be bothered enough to protest or something. Then again, you can imagine what type of punishments that Namjoon can come up with if pushed––after all, he is Seokjin’s brother.

Another thing you never thought to consider is how large Hell is. You can only remember so many twists and turns before everything starts to blur together; the dark grey walls run endlessly around you, with smatterings of dark mahogany doors that look almost as if they were only painted on. The two brothers do not pause at all in their journey, however, and all you can do is try your best to keep up with their long-legged strides.

Finally, the corridor widens into a full-fledged room, with a ceiling so tall that you can’t even begin to see the end of it. There seems to be more doorways just ahead of you, towards another hallway where no ends seem to be in sight, but the two men stop in front of the double doors to the right before you could go any further. Unlike the other doors, this one is painted pure white, almost illuminant among the drab grey walls. Namjoon and Seokjin stare ahead at the door, neither one of them going to turn the knob just yet.

“Well. This is it,” Namjoon murmurs, his quiet voice sounding loud amidst the silence. He casts a sidelong glance at Seokjin, who swallows thickly as he makes a point to look away from his brother. He fidgets beside you, shoulders rolling back as if he feels something crawling up his spine. You should know; you can feel the anxiety begin to make its way up to your throat.

“It’s the same courtroom…” Seokjin mutters. You want to ask what he means, but there are other things to worry about.

“Has the trial already begun?” you ask, though you already know the answer. It’s more to stall for time, afraid of what is to come. You try to think back about every single thing you did with Yoongi, what sort of conversations and interactions you had with him that might incriminate him. The steady throb of fear reminds you of the three words you had spoken aloud that fated night, and though Yoongi had not said it back, you wonder if your foolishness is what brought him to this predicament in the first place.

Namjoon watches you, sees the way your hands are clenched by your sides, dots of sweat lining your neck, and yet he does not mention your state of mind. Instead, he answers, “It started just a while ago. They’ve kept him in a holding cell while they waited for me to fetch you. We must hurry, or else…” Namjoon trails off, biting his lip. If you knew him better, you might hazard a guess and say that he was scared, too.

A demon who was afraid… You don’t know what that could mean.

“Wait, Namjoon. I have a question.” You have to make sure that this isn’t a lost cause. If what you were guessing is true, then…

For whatever reason, Namjoon doesn’t need you to state it explicitly. He sends you a weak smirk, head shaking as he goes to turn the doorknob. “No need to worry, Y/N. They can’t hear conversations when incubi are on missions. You’re safe.”

You flinch, foot melded to the floor. “H-how did you..?”

“Y/N, let’s hurry.” Seokjin interrupts, his sudden comment making you unfreeze long enough to allow him to tug you through the door. He had been so still and so quiet that you had almost forgotten that he was there. His grip on your arm is tight, unbelievably so, and you can feel it shaking slightly.

You glance at him, his usual expressive face empty of all emotion. He stares resolutely ahead of him, and when you follow his line of sight, you see that he is looking right at the imposing man behind the judge’s podium.

The judge is a slim man with dark red irises that seem to follow you wherever you go. His face is smooth like ivory, clear of any indication as to what age he may be. His black hair is slicked back neatly, showcasing his stiff widow’s peak like an arrow pointing straight towards his angular nose. Everything about him screams sharp. Impenetrable. What surprises you the most, however, are the deep set dimples permanently etched onto his cheeks even though he does not smile.

“Nice of you to finally join us, Kim Namjoon.” The man says, the timbre of his voice almost edging towards a growl. At his greeting, the quiet chatter around the room reaches a standstill as hundreds of eyes lock onto you and your angelic companion.

The courtroom is large, far larger than any you’ve ever seen in the surface. The circular shape of it makes you feel confined, like you’re trapped inside a toddler’s goldfish bowl. There are hundreds of rows filled with demons of all shapes and sizes, though most appeared quite humanoid. To your far right, you notice a crowd of winged women with unhinged jaws, their talons long enough that they graze the floor. Right beside the judge, there are a group of the most beautiful looking men that you have ever seen, their dark horns the only indication that they aren’t as human as they seem. One of them waves shyly at you, a small smile gracing his heart shaped lips. For whatever reason, you feel compelled to return the gesture.

“I am terribly sorry for the wait, your Honor. I had a bit of a misunderstanding on the way here,” Namjoon says. He bows deeply, his forehead almost reaching his knees with how low he goes.

The judge peers at Seokjin, brows raised with amusement. “I’m guessing it has something to do with our little guest, is it not?”

“Judge Kim.” Seokjin says, brittle. His ears have turned pink, though his expression is as blank as ever.

Judge Kim tuts, breaking the eye contact when he shuffles a pile of papers together. He flips through them, his smirk never faltering. “Is that how you treat your father after all this time? Surely they teach you better manners up there.”

You gasp, mouth dropping down in shock as you try and comprehend what the judge had just said. “Your father?” you whisper, trying to catch Seokjin’s gaze.

“I have no father,” Seokjin replies, jaw clenched. His lips tremble. “The only Father that I know is the one that I serve up above.”

The judge snorts, leaning casually back into his seat. “I believe we all had to serve the same Father, once upon a time. It seems like you’re the only one who hasn’t gotten the memo yet.”

Seokjin takes a step forward, urging you to do the same. You stumble after him, but not before turning inquisitively back at Namjoon. He smiles sadly, shaking his head and mouthing ‘later’ before heading to sit directly beside the judge––no, his father. The demon who had waved to you scoots over, patting Namjoon on the shoulder before hurriedly whispering something into his ear.

There is a podium right in the middle of courtroom. Seokjin leads you to it, never once letting go of you. When you stand before the court, you shoot him a frightened look, begging him to stay. He nods silently, standing firmly beside you with a hand placed warmly against the small of your back.

For the first time in your life, you feel grateful to this annoying yet kind angel, who chose to stay by your side despite having to go against every rule in his book just to keep your reckless self safe. Not for the first time, however, do you feel the guilt begin to eat you whole, at how your selfishness has once again brought pain to someone you cared about. Shithead angel or not.

Judge Kim slams the gavel, the echo especially loud in the hauntingly silent courtroom. He clears his throat, curling his finger at two impossibly large demons standing guard in front of another door closer to the judge. Without another word, they exit the room, the squeaking door frame resounding like a gunshot.

He clears his throat, his pupils blown unnervingly. “Miss… Y/N, is it not?”

You turn to Seokjin helplessly. He nods his head, quietly encouraging you. You turn back to the judge, a frog in your throat. “Y-yes. That’s my name.”

“You are the one who called upon Min Yoongi’s services on the 12th of August, did you not?”

“Yes. That is correct.”

“You, with your full consent, were locked in a covenant with Min Yoongi, an incubus who was bound to pleasure you in any way that might fulfill your desires, correct?”

You take a shaky breath. “Yes.”

“Miss Y/N,” Judge Kim peers at his documents, tongue darting to lick his fingers as he flips to the next page. His tongue is forked like a snake. “It says here in our contracts that if the conjurer, which is you in this scenario, is not sufficiently pleasured by the incubus within a given time limit, then he will be put under trial in the event that he has sabotaged his own mission. Are you aware of this?”

“Yes, your Honor.” You pause, unsure whether its your place to question him back. Seokjin notices your hesitation, so he pokes your back softly, giving you the courage you need to say your piece. You reach behind your back, finding his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze in thanks.

“Your Honor, may I ask why this trial is being held in the first place? Min Yoongi has sufficiently, uh, pleasured me to the best of his ability the night before. If my math is correct, then I know for certain that he has made his deadline. As his client, I can say that his services were more than outstanding.”

Judge Kim sneers at that, fanning himself with the documents smugly. “Although that might be so, there are other… circumstances that warrant prosecution. For example––”

Before he can finish, the doors reopen once more with a bang, drowning him out. The two guards return, hauling a mangled corpse to the front of the stands. They dump him unceremoniously to the ground, right at the foot Judge Kim’s podium. One of the guards forces the man to tilt his head up, grabbing fistfuls of his hair to reveal his bloodied face. It’s––

“Yoongi!” You cry out, nearly jumping out of your stand to reach him, but Seokjin pulls you back down. You sob in despair, trying desperately to get Seokjin to let go, but all he does is shake his head sadly. You claw the wooden podium in front of you, tears blurring your vision as you call hoarsely for Yoongi.

Yoongi lets out a low groan, eyes clenched shut. He slumps against the wall, head lolling to his shoulders as his shallow inhales fill the courtroom. His slacks are torn apart, leaving his bruised and slashed legs for you to see. His bare chest is littered with numerous small cuts, with one particularly deep gash lying dangerously close to his heart. His face is similarly decorated, with bloody rivers dripping down from his forehead and cheeks.

You can feel your heart beating outside of your chest. You want nothing more than to rush over to him, though you don’t know what you would have done if you could. He looks to be at the brink of death, as he struggled to even find the energy to take another breath. Fear rattles its claws up and down your insides, making you feel nauseous. The world begins to sway at your feet, and Seokjin has to prop you up to keep your knees from buckling under you.

“Miss Y/N, will you please explain to the court why we have testimonies from a multitude of other incubi that Min Yoongi has fallen in love with you?” Judge Kim booms, scattering all of his documents with a flourish. Dozens, if not hundreds of papers flutter above you, all of them affidavits of demons claiming that Yoongi loved you. Seokjin snatches one out of the air, scanning the document in bemusement.

“Your Honor, this is simply preposterous. Y/N and Yoongi have only known each other for less than three months! What makes you think that they could even fall in love in such a small amount of time?” Seokjin contends, shaking his head in bewilderment. “And what is this even about? How could anyone claim to be a witness to someone falling in love? What does that even entail?”

“We have eyes everywhere, Seokjin. You might have forgotten, but no demon is safe from being monitored.” The judge’s mouth curls up, smiling disparagingly at his exiled son. “It’s part of our… customer satisfaction program.”

“Bullshit,” Seokjin hisses, slamming his fist down on the podium. You startle at the pure hatred dripping from every inch of his body, his angelic glow slowly leaking out of his skin. A few of the demons closest to the two of you start shrieking in pain, crouching down to avoid his heavenly power. Judge Kim appears unaffected, however, as he slams his own gavel down to bring order back to the court.

“Silence, everyone!” he barks. He then points a finger at your companion. “As for you, Kim Seokjin... I would advise that you bring your temper down a notch. We wouldn’t want more nasty proceedings to happen while you’re here trespassing.”

“I am not trespassing––”

“Don’t think I don’t know that you still like to visit him during your downtime, my son.” Judge Kim chuckles, enjoying the shocked look on Seokjin’s face. “Why, you should know better than to try and get away without me noticing. You should be more careful. After all, I doubt you’d want Jeon Jungkook to––”

“Don’t you dare say his name!” Seokjin growls, taking a staggered step forward. Now it is your turn to hold him back, grabbing him by the sleeve to halt his advances. He doesn’t seem like he’ll go much further, but you don’t risk letting go just yet.

“Seokjin, please calm down. We have to save Yoongi.”

Seokjin glances back at you. His breathing is still harsh, but the glow around his body has subsided at least. “Okay. Okay. I––I’m sorry,” he mutters, stepping back to stand beside you.

You fix your attention back to Judge Kim. “Continuing with what Seokjin said earlier… D-don’t you think it’s ridiculous for people to claim that we have fallen in l-love, like you suggested?” You stammer a bunch in your speech, probably to your detriment. You scold yourself internally as you wait for the demon to respond.

He purses his lips, shrugging nonchalantly. “We have ways of knowing, Miss Y/N. We wouldn’t have this type of rule if we haven’t seen it happen in the past. Trust me, we always know.”

“What do you know, then?”

“We have witnesses say that when you and Min Yoongi… fulfilled your contract the other night, there was a slight difference in the way he moved. As you may or may not know, Min Yoongi is a highly trained professional. He knows better than to implicate other emotions into his job.”

“What are you implying?” You ask, though you already know what he means. In front of you, Yoongi’s chin lifts up imperceptibly.

“I am implying that Min Yoongi has fallen in love with you.”

The courtroom is once again filled with chatter. Hisses and jeers fly left and right, and even a wad of paper is thrown right at Yoongi’s immobile form. The winged ladies crow in unison, chanting “Foolish, foolish…” repeatedly as they strike their talons against the floor.

There is a yell from the upper stands. “Love has tarnished the infallible Min Yoongi!”

“Kill him! He is useless to us now!”

“What is an incubus if he is not blinded by lust? How will he ever be whole again if he is to share his heart with someone else?”

The uproar does not cease until the judge raises a hand. He affixes you with a gaze, prompting you to respond to their accusations. The crowd surveys you, like vultures waiting for you to take your last breath. You gulp, skin prickling with nerves.

“And who is to say that these accusations are even credible?”

“Oh?” The judge perks at that, leaning closely as he appraises you. You shrink back, unnerved by his sudden change in demeanor.

“Miss Y/N, did you come here to defend Min Yoongi? Or to stand as a witness? Why do you feel so… inclined to save some lowly incubus such as he? Surely, you have other things worth doing with your time right now.”

Murmurs. Nails and tongues click impatiently all around you. Your mouth goes dry as the demons start to openly stare at you, picking you apart. Trying to elicit the truth out of you.

“Or perhaps, Miss Y/N…” Judge Kim stands now, opening his arms to address the entire crowd. Everyone cheers as he pauses for theatrical effect. “You are also… inflicted with the same malady as our dear Min Yoongi is?”

The whispers grow louder. Cold terror paralyzes. You take a shaky inhale.

“I…”

“Y/N,” Seokjin warns, grasping your arm. He looks gaunt, like the soul has been sucked out of him. “The moment I sense that your life is in danger, I’m getting you out of here, understand?”

A warning. If you don’t say the right thing now, you’ll never be able to save Yoongi. You can’t blame Seokjin for wanting to get out of there either. This may be your last chance to see Yoongi, but you only hope that at the very least, it won’t be his last chance at life. You have to think fast.

You chance a look around the room. You see Namjoon sitting stock still beside his father, gaze unreadable. He is looking at neither you nor Seokjin, but somewhere over your shoulder. It is clear that he will not be of help this time. On the other hand…

The demon with the heart shaped smile beside him gesticulates wildly back at you, mouthing something that you can’t quite make sense of. You watch confusedly, as he appears to be asking you to keep talking, judging by the way he’s opening his mouth as wide as he can.

“Are you sure?” you mouth back, still feeling afraid. He gives you a thumbs up, nodding enthusiastically that you think his head might fly off.

“Miss Y/N? What do you have to say?” Judge Kim snaps you out of your trance, you cheeks burning after being called out once more.

“I… have a confession to make.” You hear Seokjin stifle a gasp. Yoongi is as motionless as ever, the wound on his chest steadily dripping with scarlet. It has started to pool on the floor, painting the tiles like molten tar. You almost miss it, but his hand twitches by his side.

“When I asked Yoongi to… have sex with me, I asked him to do it in a way where I could pretend that we…”

“Pretend?” Judge Kim repeats.

Your heart pulsates to a crescendo. “Pretend that we… were in love. It was all a farce.”

The crowd erupts.

“Liar!”

“A fucking stupid story, I bet!”

“Dumb whore!”

“Miss Y/N, I’m going to need for you to explain. Properly.” He glares at you harshly, slamming a gavel when the audience wails back in defiance. “Silence! We will listen to her testimony!”

Focus, Y/N. Think fast. This is the only way you can save him. It will hurt, but it will have been for good. It is worth it.

(Or so, you hope.)

“I… I have never been in love. I never knew what that type of emotion felt, and I craved it more than anything. So, when he asked me what I wanted from him, I told him that… I wanted to pretend like we were together. It’s a stupid type of roleplay that others might not have asked for from an incubus, but I did.” Your words sound pathetic in your ears, but in a way, they are nothing if not the truth. Despite what the other demons might say, you know deep in your soul that Min Yoongi could not be in love with you.

The two of you might have shared a connection, possibly even as close acquaintances, but love? It’s a long shot. Hell, you’re not sure if you love him either. (A lie, but you won’t admit it.) Everything about this trial is making your head swim, confusing you as terror and anguish become all you can perceive.

Yes, that’s right...

There is nothing about you to love. You have been nothing but a menace to him, an inconvenience. It’s your fault that he is hurting right now, your fault for being incapable of having the most basic of human desires. If you just had been a normal human being and just fucked him on the first day, then none of this would have happened. You’ve grappled with this guilt for years, and now you have proof that what you’ve always feared is true: you’re different, and you will be punished for it.

“She’s lying!” A demon with electric blue hair and pale skin screeches, standing up with a finger pointed at you. He bears his numerous teeth, a wolfish smile tugging upwards.

Others begin to say the same, a chorus of dissent starting to rise. Judge Kim looks down to where Yoongi sits, who still refuses to open his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, Judge Kim forces the guards to lift Yoongi to his feet. They do as he asks, and you’re left helpless as Yoongi staggers upwards, coughing up globs of blood like a morbid fountain.

“Yoongi. Is what this human saying true?”

Yoongi wheezes once, twice. He warbles something unintelligible, too soft for anyone to understand.

“Speak louder or risk your life being shortened to its last inch,” the judge sneers. The guards’ grips tighten on his torso, causing him to choke for air.

“Stop it! You’re gonna kill him!” You turn to Namjoon, wrecked sobs all you can manage at this point. “Namjoon! Make them stop!”

Judge Kim guffaws, as do the jury beside him. “Human, you really are as shameless as you say you are. However, we cannot just let him go. Your claims are baseless unless the incubus himself swears that what you say is true.”

“Y/N, we have to go now.” Seokjin fidgets beside you, shoulders hunched as if he’s ready for flight. You plead weakly with him, but he shakes his head. “No. There’s nothing else you can do.”

“Listen to Seokjin, mortal. He is right; there is no saving those lost to love.” Judge Kim says. He motions for the guards to shackle Yoongi once more, the clinking metal loud in the spacious hall. But then––

“Wait just a moment, your Honor.”

Confusion breaks out as the demon beside Namjoon stands up, his purple horns making him appear taller than he is. Even when he seems serious, his mouth still appears as heart shaped as they always do.

The judge looks surprised as everyone else. “Jung Hoseok?”

“Yes, your Honor. I am terribly sorry for interrupting you, but I’d like to question Miss Y/N some more.” He swallows heavily, jumping from foot to foot in anticipation. The atmosphere stills.

Judge Kim hums. “Well, I can certainly say that I am intrigued. Jung Hoseok, you’ve never once spoken during a trial.”

“I… believe there is something worth looking into with what Miss Y/N had said, that’s all.” He faces you, his determination blazing forth. He risks a small grin at you, making the all-consuming panic inside of you abate for a moment.

There is a pause as the judge appraises both you and Hoseok. A minute passes, but it feels like a millennia. Eventually, he sighs, waving for Hoseok to start. “Hmm. Alright, Jung Hoseok. You may proceed.”

His grin is charismatic, shedding a glow that you might even call heavenly. “Right. All I wanted to point out was that we should really consider who we’re dealing with right now. Like, come on guys!” He has the audacity to chuckle sarcastically, peering at his colleagues with contempt. “This is Min Yoongi we’re talking about! Hate him or love him, we all know that he’s one of the best in the business. Would he really risk his life for some filthy human?” He laughs, louder than before, so much so that the demons near him start giggling as well.

His amusement is contagious. Soon, the court shakes with laughter––even the blue-haired demon who had shouted a while ago has begun to snicker in earnest. Your ears redden as embarrassment fills you, defenseless against their cruelty.

Even the judge manages to let out a chuckle. “That’s true. What type of idiot would he be?”

Hoseok nods, enthusiastic. “Precisely. This is all just a misunderstanding. After all, humans are such fickle creatures… They want so endlessly, and yet at their core, they are nothing more than toys for us to discard.”

You can tell that the other demons have started to become swayed by Hoseok’s statement. A few nod their heads, and the ones closer to him even nudge him in a show of blatant camaraderie. Whoever this Hoseok was, he is certainly well-liked among the citizens of hell. Well-liked enough to be believed in an instant, it seems.

But to you, his words leave a sting that you aren’t sure you’ll forget. After all, Yoongi must see you like Hoseok described: nothing more than a foul, pathetic human. How foolish of you to think he could ever see you as an equal, much less a lover. He never once said he loved you, and he never will. Even now, as the proceedings reach its end, he has yet to look at you once.

The guards lift Yoongi up again, one of them grasping his chin so that he may face Judge Kim. You cannot see him except for his back, where his fists are folded behind him. Judge Kim leans over his podium, close enough to Yoongi that he could probably see through him if he so desired.

“Min Yoongi. I will ask you one last time and you shall speak clearly, lest you suffer the consequences. Did you or did you not fall in love with Miss Y/N?”

From your perch, you see his hands move. They tighten for a moment, fingernails digging so deeply into his palms that it is sure to draw blood, but it hardly makes a difference with how bloodied they already are. And then, they relax, just like that. Yoongi’s arms give out like a ragdoll.

You listen to his voice, for the first time that day. Like nails driven into a coffin. In just a few words, he buries you.

He says, “Yes. It’s true. Everything has been a charade.”

But the judge is not appeased. He needs to make sure that the nails won’t give out––that you’ve truly been buried under soil and heartbreak. He makes the guards turn him around, and you are faced again with Yoongi.

“If what you say is true, then say it once more. Look her in the eyes and tell her she is nothing to you. Go on.”

Yoongi refuses to open them, but he does as the judge asks. He repeats them, slowly, as if savoring them. You had hoped that it would hurt less this time, but it seems that the nails have reached deeper than you had imagined. It takes a century’s worth of effort to keep your sobs at bay.

Appeased, the judge allows the jury to convene. When they finish, Kim Namjoon is the one who stands to his feet, poised primly like he has been during the entire hearing. He is quick to dab a bead of sweat that trails down towards his chin.

“Has the jury reached a unanimous decision?” Judge Kim asks. Everyone waits for the jury to settle, watching with bated breath for the outcome of the trial.

Namjoon nods. “After heavy consideration, we, the jury, find the defendant to be... not guilty.”

Beside you, Seokjin releases a sigh of relief, head bowing in exhaustion. He laughs, disbelieving. “By God, he did it.”

The moment Namjoon finishes his statement, the guards immediately release Yoongi, leaving him to curl up to the floor in pain. He wheezes loudly at your feet, cradling his bloody torso. Instinctively, you jump over your podium, kneeling over his shivering form. Your hands float above him, afraid of hurting him further.

Seokjin is quick to pull you up, holding you tight when you struggle to reach for Yoongi. “Y/N, this is more than enough. We’ve done you needed to do, and we are going back now.”

“Fuck off,” you cry hoarsely, unwilling to leave him just yet. You need to know that he will be okay, that everything will have been worth it.

To your right, you hear footsteps hurriedly approaching you. Namjoon and Hoseok appear, a small vial of something clutched tightly in Hoseok’s hand. He is quick to feed the liquid to Yoongi, who begins coughing harshly when it hits his tongue. To your amazement, the medicine gives Yoongi enough strength to roll over on his back, broken gulps of air leaving his split lips.

“Y/N.”

Alive. Alive. He’s going to be alright.

“Yoongi, you’re going to be ok––” No. NONONONONO.

A scream rips out of your throat as you gaze at him, terrified, as he looks back at you. You are frozen, unable to tear yourself away from the frightening sight of the mangled remains of a demon who was once whole.

It can’t be real. They can’t have done this…

But they have.

...

His eyes are gone. Black holes where soft irises once called home.

“Go back home, Y/N. You’ve done more than enough.” Yoongi’s words would’ve hurt less had he shouted, but his voice is devoid of emotion. He stands up unsteadily, and you can only watch as Namjoon and Hoseok help him to his feet. They sling his arms around their shoulders, carrying him gently across the large courtroom. His feet drag listlessly behind him, his head bowed in silent defeat. They leave the room quickly, and you wouldn’t be able to follow even if you tried.

There is a warm hand pressed against your back. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” Seokjin whispers, his thumb rubbing circles across your shoulder blades, “There’s nothing else we can do.”

A wave of fatigue suddenly washes over you, your eyelids growing immensely heavy. You think your knees might have collapsed, Seokjin’s strong arms catching you before you hit the ground. You hardly hear him whisper another apology before your mind shuts off, allowing you to be sleep’s mistress for the night.

It is an entirely dreamless sleep––the eyes of your beloved incubus absent for the first time in weeks.

#networkbangtan #armiesnet #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts scenario #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #yoongi angst #bts angst #bts suga #bangtan #bts fanfic

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autisticstarseed · 5 years

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👐 Hand washing guide when you have sensory issues 👐

tbh. we shouldve been talking abt this a long time ago for many disabled ppls sake but ive put this post off for like a million years out of pure solidified fear of ableist harassment/kneejerk ignorance and also generalized cringe idiots but now that we got so much covid-19 fear and autistic ppl actually tend to have weaker immune systems than most people lets jump the shark;;;

i have autism and i physically struggle with washing my hands as often as i want to, having wet hands, drying them, the temperature difference, bad soap smells/textures, etc. are all genuinely painful. the good news is that ive dealt with water aversion shit since birth (its a common sensory issue), so ive had time to figure out alternatives and coping skills that still help reduce risk of disease and spreading it in ways that i can personally manage. (ie. not lazy or selfish or gross. genuinely putting more effort into this every day task than most other people would even think about. just disability lads) so heres the guide i have to offer if you’re in a similar boat, with some keypoints about hand hygiene and tips addressing the most common sensory struggles ive noticed with it;;;

1. hand sanitizer

i love hand sanitizer, i can get it in almost any scent i want and it dries down very very fast. the problem is; hand washing and hand sanitizer do different things. it only kills certain types of germs. which is all fine and dandy, but because of this, using only hand sanitizer wont actually keep you from catching or spreading many illnesses. so what its good for is times you cant wash your hands (out in public, sensory overload, no spoons, etc), thats fine, but it should not replace all hand washing if at all possible. it is supposedly effective to covid-19, but so little is currently known that it should not be considered your go to for this, and the only unanimous statement straight from the CDC is that hand washing works best at preventing its spread.

temperature - if you have trouble with it being too cold, conveniently keeping it in your pocket or closely against your body in some way warms it up and makes it much more comfortable.

scent - they come in almost any scent you can imagine, but if you have trouble with strong scents, there are ‘scentless hand sanitizers’. they usually have a faint chemical smell, so if there are any testers available, you should check to make sure it can work for you before you buy it.

texture - if gel doesnt cut it, they also make foamy hand sanitizers and liquid sprays, but theyre harder to find and might be a little more pricey.

and remember; always buy hand sanitizer that says it contains AT LEAST 60% alcohol, the higher alcohol content the better, but try to keep track of how high it is and how much you apply it so you dont dry your skin out. and right now price gouging is pretty bad, so dont be surprised if you cant find any for a while, and dont buy any small bottle that costs over a couple dollars, its a rip off.

2. hand washing

so what does hand washing do thats better than sanitizer??? soap and water lift up the dirt and oils that are carrying the germs and actually wash them off, and not only that, it also gets rid of all the things sanitizer cant, such as dust/dirt, spores, chemicals, and the previously mentioned viruses that are harder to kill. ik to an outside perspective it might not seem that hard, but obviously when you have autism and these tasks are split down into bigger ordeals and sensory nightmares, it can feel impossible.

soap - there are so many different kinds of soap! scentless soaps exist, and they very rarely have any lingering chemical smell! theres also soap for sensitive skin, and baby soap also works well for that issue. bar soaps can come in all different shapes and sizes, with many different ingredients and additives to choose from (independent soap makers are an amazing source for customized soap btw), and liquid soaps can be pure gel, frothy, mousse-y or even have tiny exfoliating or moisturizing beads in them if thats a sensory experience you enjoy. this is my number one rec for people struggling with hand washing bc of sensory issues;;; mix up the soap. finding one that gives you an okay or even a GOOD sensory experience can completely turn around an otherwise meltdown inducing task

temperature - this is the one thats always been hardest for me. cold water straight up hurts me, and our plumbing is Terrible, so the trick i have for slow pipes is to run the hot water on high as Soon as i get into the bathroom. leave it going and by the time you’re done there should be at least lukewarm water. if this still takes too long for you, try out the various sinks in your house, usually one is able to get hot water faster than the rest (for me its the kitchen sink) and that can become a designated station for you if need be.

texture - some ppl just hate water. if thats the case, it rly doesnt change much abt the process if you use less water, ie work the soap into a lather, and then only use as much as you need to rinse it off. you dont have to keep your hands under the whole time, the soap clings to the dirt, the water takes it off all together, as long as you scrub well and rinse till you see no suds, you’re good

If it really comes down to it, a washcloth with water+soap, a disinfecting wipe, or even literally just a rinse with plain ol water is better than nothing, but the stream of water and act of rubbing the soap in is the most effective combo against disease. soap/disinfectant wipes and hand sanitizers are your second best option. if theres a time in your life where an issue is so disabling for you that you truly cant keep any of this up, rly the most important thing is to limit your direct physical contact with your face and commonly used objects as MUCH as possible until you can figure smth out. (you kno those old ladies that grab a wipe and open the doorknob with it between their hand and the knob? become that old lady) and if push comes to shove, if a safe and accepting therapy setting is something accessible to you, hygiene struggles are actually something many mental health professionals understand Very well and can help you cope with personally and directly, without shame.

3. hand drying

this is also. my personal hell. and what most people say is the hardest part of the sensory experience. but ya cant just walk around with wet hands right

towels - the obvious choice for most, but to me they actually dont dry enough. i always end up damp and with lint stuck to me. this kills the man. but hand towels do have some variety to them, you can find em with really long fibers or really short/flat, really fuzzy or really stiff, etc. sounds silly but its smth a lot of ppl dont think about that can change a lot. you can also try super absorbent towels (yes like a shamwow), and again baby bath towels are also an option if you want something gentle.

paper towels - yeah a little more wasteful and expensive, but imo much more absorbent. theyre also pretty thin so you can get between your fingers (MY BANE), and under your nails if you use a corner. 10/10

blow drying - ik this is the kind of shit you only see in like movie theaters and malls and they are definitely LOUD AS SHIT, but if you happen to have the money, and struggle more with Textures than Noise, ie a stream of warm air seems worth the sound, you Can actually find a small basic one of these items for your own home.

4. public restrooms

everybody hates em!!! but you can make em more tolerable;;;

soap - bring your own! little travel soaps you can keep in your bag are a godsend for ppl with sensory issues, sensitive skin/allergies, and if you just prefer not sharing soap.

temperature - most public places i notice actually do get hot water pretty fast (like,,, too fast,,, like,,, it bur ns me) so if there are no faucets and its too hot or too cold, once again you can try different sinks and one might be more comfortable. if there are faucets i recommend grabbing a paper towel to turn it off, so you dont have to touch it again with your clean hands.

sound - WHY R AUTOMTIC FLUSH TOILETS SO FUCKEN LOUDD..... honestly if you have noise cancelling earmuffs or earplugs or w/e pop em in. if you dont have any of that i just literally plug my ears with my fingers when i stand up. if you struggle with the sound of the blow dryers, they almost always have paper towels as well, but its a great idea to carry something like that around in your bag with you just in case. if its really packed and people chattering is getting to you, sometimes the ‘family’ bathrooms are actually smaller and less full. if its bad enough and you feel comfortable asking, an employee might be able to direct you to a single stall bathroom or at least a different one than that.

and though its convenient, try not to use your sleeve to touch things like doorknobs, toilet handles, etc. instead use something disposable like a paper towel or wipe, bc the germs will simply transfer to your sleeve and still risk infecting you.

5. schedule

the number one suggestion is to wash your hands literally as often as possible during a time like this but like. even for allistic/nt/abled/ ppl thats just not always an attainable schedule so the Best times to wash your hands are;;;

after using the bathroom - the most important time and generally the easiest to get used to. its smth you have to do multiple times a day that already has a schedule, and if you were to forget or go into sensory overload its usually immediately accessible as soon as you can. as i mentioned earlier, if you need help remembering, you can turn the water on when you first get in and leave it going.

the doctors - ANY KIND of health facility should be avoided right now unless really necessary, places where sick people would frequent is the quickest way to get sick but like. ya rly cant help it sometimes right. you cant stop dealing with your own illnesses just bc theres another one floating around. so, this is time to go apeshit on the handwashing. if your health issue involves coughing and sneezing, ask for a face mask. bring a scarf in case they dont have any, its not as great but better than nothing. otherwise, you honestly dont need it, face masks are more for these people bc they keep germs in better than out. whether you’re worried abt getting sick or infecting others, this is a time to use hand sanitizer, avoid physical contact like shaking hands [autistic cheering], and when you first arrive and right before you go to leave are the most important times to remember to wash your hands.

preparing food - not as commonly spoken about, but also easy to work into a schedule. i personally dont care unless its food for somebody else or if im going to be putting my hands on it a lot, but if thats the case, a lot of the time thats produce you already want to wash in the sink, so you can kill two birds with one stone there. dont just get the germs off your own hands, get em off the fruits and veggies before you eat em. carpool

after grocery shopping - not very common. most ppl just slap some sanitizer/a wipe on there or dont think abt it at all, but if you just got home from walmart thats a great time to wash. you just touched a bunch of items other people touched, including the cart, money/credit cards, and all the products people will pick up and put back, so its prime germ time babey. But again, sanitizer or a wipe will help if its all you can manage after a trip out like that.

before self care - also uncommon. ppl always say ‘dont touch your face’ and ‘apply this product with clean hands’, and what they mean is that one of the fastest ways germs get into your system is through your mouth, nose, eyes and ears. if you’re simply washing your face theres not as much concern, but applying a mask, moisturizer, makeup, etc. should all be done after a gentle rinse of your hands (and face). very hard to get into the schedule of, but if you consider it a Part of your ‘self care’ or use a special fun cleanser, it can stick a little easier.

6. stim items

STIM ITEMS!! if you have stim items, its a good idea to clean them regularly, but even moreso during an outbreak like this.

rubber/plastic - if it goes in your mouth, hot water (not hot enough to melt!) and dish soap, if it doesnt, look up how to safely make a diluted bleach solution.

silicone - silicone is usually dish washer safe.

fabric - if its light, add bleach to the washing machine, if its colored, you can use white vinegar or hydrogen peroxide which are less likely to discolor any dyes. lysol detergent is also super great. small items you’re worried about losing, or items with details/loose parts, you can usually wash inside of a sealed pillow case.

‘squishies’ - for ‘mochi’ squishies aka the rubbery ones, soap and water + some dusted baby powder or corn starch (optional) to keep it from grabbing lint for a while. for foam squishies, they can rarely be deep cleaned without the risk of growing mold or taking paint off, but a disinfecting wipe every now and then should keep it clean for a while.

slime - cant be disinfected, sorry. also a breeding ground for mold if you arent careful, so its always best to cycle through these quickly.

technology - cant really be completely sterilized, but there are many places to get sprays and cleaning wipes for the devices you use that can at least keep the areas your hands frequently touch a little cleaner.

BUT of course if your item comes with instructions on how to wash it, always follow that instead. this is just a general idea.

and as a final note;;; disabled ppl should not feel guilty or dirty for struggling with this. like. man idc abt ur cringe feels or your ignorant blame or your lack of understanding/sympathy for what goes into these tasks for us. if u dont wanna get our struggles and sensitivities when we’re working twice as hard on functioning tasks which personal ease you take for granted, thats on you. @ disabled people if you struggle with maintaining the same standard of hygiene as nts you arent gross or bad fucking person, you’re disabled and by definition that means your level of functioning will be different, and you deserve sympathy. its just that germs dont discriminate, they wanna cause problems for everybody involved (especially you!!!), so Anything you can manage is Great and if anything from this post can help make it a little easier for people in any way, i feel its absolutely necessary to talk about with respect and dignity. people with autism/adhd/sensory processing disorder/similar neurodivergencies/literally anybody else this could benefit, pls feel free to add on any tips you might have or send me questions. let disabled ppl help disabled ppl do our personal bests

#nt/allistic ppl can totally reblog btw!! just dont clown like thats literally all i ask man cuz tbh #im trying to help ppl form a hygiene habit while my nd struggle was ignored and worsened by ppl being shitty to me so to be blunt ig #im helping people by giving alternatives and coping skills and all ur doing is being ableist and expecting ppl to 100% conform so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#whos really the ...~~~~~ pro recovery~~~~ one. here #hint its me sit down rude ass #long post #im scared to put in nd tags but sjgsjddsj we're JUMPIGN THE SHARK #sensory processing disorder #spd #autism #actuallyautistic #asd #adhd #sensory overload #original

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