#someday I’ll find a better way to organize this but for now this will have to do

[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

I remember there was a headcanon about Luis attending a school that had secret connections with Umbrella. Now I can't help but think if Leon and Luis have a kid, they would do extensive background checks on schools their kid would attend, because they'll want to make sure none of those schools were associated with Umbrella/have ties to corrupt companies/organizations.

Thank you so much for sending in an ask!!!!!!! But yesyesyesyesyes I know the headcannon you’re talking about!!!!!! From memory I think either @geddy-leesbian or @hamartia-grander made some pretty extensive posts going into this idea??? Either way its really fascinating to think about!!!!

For those of you who don’t know, the headcannon/theory basically revolves around the fact that Luis was able to graduate school seemingly pretty quickly/was considered a ‘child prodigy’, and that in-universe theres a few characters who attended schools created specifically by Umbrella to essentially indoctrinate them; one of the most notable being the Umbrella Executive Training School that William and Wesker attended.

Umbrella has a few random facilities like this (like the Rockford Prison) And considering the fact that Europe seemed to be a relatively big hub for Umbrella, it DEFINITELY wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that they’d have a similar school with the intent of training/indoctrinating ‘child prodigies’ to work for them in the future, and it’d be even less pf a stretch to assume that Luis, who came from a VERY sheltered religious background, would be a very easy subject to pick (cuz! yippee!! capitalist grooming am i right or am i right!!) It’d also absolutely lend a hand to why Luis grabbed as many items as he could and just BOOKED IT immediately after finding out what their plans for Nemesis REALLY were (I could talk about that part of his life/that realisation for HOURS oh my GOD)

EDIT I FORGOT TO ADD: Umbrella on some level does work quite like a cult. I’ll link a post that does a MUCH better job explaining it than I could in the replies of this post, but creating facilities for the sole purpose of indoctrinating already vulnerable young people into being on board with your project and isolating them from friends and family is like. Cult behaviour 101 BFNEHENDJDJ which is VERY painful to think about how Luis got roped into cults THREE times. Valdelobos before Saddler showed up wasn’t EXPLICITLY a cult, but considering it was isolated from modern society and heavily Catholic theres a strong argument to be made- then of course theres Umbrella- then of course he was blackmailed into working with Los Illuminados. I’ll make a post going deeper into that SOMEDAY, but like,,,, just the tragedy of his life being one big cycle he cant break is just. So devastating man are you KIDDING ME

I’m not like. SUUUUUPER knowledgeable on super obscure lore stuff like locations/facilities etc, so if you have a question about that specifically @highball66 would probably be a better person to ask!!!!

But again we know like. NOTHING about the inbetween time between Luis running away from Valdelobos as a child and him popping up as one of Umbrella’s top scientists other than the fact that he was a child prodigy and he excelled in college- hell even the dates/ages get kinda wonky at times BHFNEHENEUDNSIS but also this is Resident Evil where things get wonky a lot of the time so!!! Eh!!!!!!!

I have my own personal theory on what he did during that time inbetween I would be SO MORE THAN HAPPY to ramble about HDNEHENDJDN

BUT TO THE POINT OF YOUR QUESTION!!! YES!!!!!!!! ABSOLUTELY!!!!!!!!!! Plus just in general with Leon having a lot more enemies than friends, doing background checks on teachers or whatever would probably seem like paranoia to an outsider but to them?????? Nah you can NEVER be safe. Plus Leon’s like, a government agent- he obviously doesn’t have a TON of autonomy but I can imagine he at least has SOME power to dig up information on people. AND, the both of them literally went through hell and back to save Ashley, who was kidnapped right under the presidents nose- So like!! Hell yeah they’d be paranoid abt where their kids going man!!!!!!!! Rightfully so I think!!!

[purpleturtle9000]

it may be a bit angsty of an idea, but in that moment before his death when Lastimosa links BT7274 to Jack, his last saying "Take care of him", I like thinking that both BT and Cooper took it as if Lastimosa talked to them in that moment, about the other. it'd be interesting if it'd come up between them at any point. Jack: okay, but he was talking to me?? BT7274: negative. it's the titan who should take care of the pilot. it's in the derictives Jack: Jack: --listEN HERE, U DUMMY--

you have perfect timing cause I was just talking about Jack coming up with Protocol 4: protect the Titan

update: all further Titanfall stuff is going to be on my new Titanfall sideblog! best-titan-7274

“You know,” Jack says, “you really should be more careful.” 

“Request clarification.” 

“Well, there’s gotta be a limited number of Titan parts around. Only so many times you can be repaired.” 

“Correct. There will someday come a point when Titans’ physical forms can no longer be repaired. However, with the current availability of raw materials, machinery, and skilled workers, I estimate that appropriate repairs for Titans will be available for another 174 years, without factoring in future availability of new materials and workers.” 

Jack really should have seen that coming. BT can be a little too literal at times, and even with how long they’ve been together now, Jack can still be wrong about how to be clear with him. 

“I meant that I don’t want to see you get damaged. I don’t–” Jack looks down at his hands, at the grease-streaked rag twisting between them, over and over. “I don’t want to lose you again.” 

“It is unlikely that I will be heavily damaged in combat again. Adequate repairs will be provided. The deployment of another SERE kit should not be required.” 

“It shouldn’t have been required the first time,” Jack mutters. He tosses the rag onto the rolling tool cart next to him and paces away. He’s never been great at emotional talks, he knows – but it’s different when he saw BT die. When he was never supposed to see his Titan ever again. 

“I sense that you are in emotional distress.” 

No shit. But BT gets quiet when Jack snaps at him. It’s stupid to compare a huge war machine to a kicked puppy, but it’s the thought that keeps coming to Jack’s mind, whenever they argue about something. 

Besides, he never did like arguing with his friends. 

“I’ll be fine, BT. Don’t worry about me.” 

“Pilot Lastimosa told me to take care of you. Protocol 3 is extremely important.” 

“Wait, what?” Jack turns, confused now. “He told me to take care of you. To make sure that you were okay. After two and a half years together, you meant the world to him.” 

“Negative. I cannot dispute Pilot Lastimosa’s affection for me, but it is the Titan who is required to protect the Pilot. It would be ineffective to fully place the Titan’s safety in the Pilot’s hands.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“You are welcome.” 

Ah, right. That literal mind again. Usually Jack just finds it funny, but at times like this, it can be a little frustrating. BT doesn’t always understand the way his words can be interpreted. Jack’s not sure if he even tries. 

Does it really matter, either way? 

“Look, I just want to keep you safe,” Jack says. “I know you’re a Titan, and there’s not a lot that can cross you, but you pretty much died. Twice. Humans get kind of upset by things like that.” 

“Humans are often illogical about the destruction of non-organic objects.” 

“Yeah, but you’re as much a person as I am. Maybe not literally, but when it counts, you and me, we’re a lot alike.” 

“Incorrect. There are a significant amount of large differences between us.” 

“I’m trying to protect you, dumbass! Protocol 4 is a thing!” 

BT crouches down for a better look at him, and Jack tilts his head to keep eye contact. Kind of. Staring at that glowing blue dot is the closest thing. 

“I am unfamiliar with any further protocols beyond the three assigned to me.” 

“Protocol 4,” Jack repeats. “Protect the Titan. Everything you do for me, I do for you. Deal?” 

For a second, he’s not sure what BT thinks of him, or the new protocol, or anything – and then BT gives him a thumbs up, and he knows everything’s right in their world.

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 2: A Friend Who'll Tease Is Better

Chapter from ongoing fic Forms of Imprisonment. Full story on AO3.

Pairing: Spawn Astarion (post-tadpole) x OFC

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: 18+. Trauma, preexisting relationship/storyline.

Astarion wakes in the dark, his long limbs stretching as the shadows of the evening rise once more. Retrieving the same pair of trousers he had discarded on the floor, he rummages through a trunk by his bedside, searching for a suitable shirt.

Fully dressed, he pads down the cobwebbed staircase from his attic dwelling, past Karlach and Minthara’s room. A voyeuristic grin forms on his face as he hears the sounds echoing from within. Reaching the den, he finds Gale and Shadowheart reading opposite one another. Hearing his footsteps, Shadowheart raises her head. 

“Off to pay a visit to your little Selûnite?”

Astarion scowls at Gale. “You told her? While I have no choice but to hole up in the attic, unable to defend myself, you’re sharing the details of my life like idle daytime gossip?”

Shadowheart snorts and Gale shrugs in response, not looking up from his book.

“Someday when we find a way for you to be in the sun, Astarion, I’ll be sure to keep my gossiping restricted to your waking hours.” Astarion scoffs, although there is a painful tug at his stomach. The sensation of the sun’s warmth against his skin, once vivid in his memory, had started to slip away. For two centuries he lived in pure hell, utter darkness, and that few weeks of reprieve the tadpole granted him from his condition reminded him too much of what he’d been missing. Now, his life devoid of sunlight once again, he’d thought of little else during his time in Waterdeep.

Until now.

Maybe he needed an objective to keep himself occupied. Maybe this is what his entire immortal experience would be: unrelenting, futile pursuit. 

Astarion doesn’t respond to Gale’s quip as he slips out the door and into the night. Even though he acknowledges more worthwhile ways to spend his time, he makes up his mind to revisit his recent conquest. After two centuries of tracking and charming people for Cazador, old habits die hard, after all.

Tonight, it’s his own curiosity he seeks to satisfy.

He pauses on the road as he hears the static of the waves crashing against the docks. His gaze sweeps the horizon, and he catches a glimpse of a woman’s figure, her presence barely distinguishable against the shoreline. 

“Too easy,” he mumbles to himself, recognizing Celeste. She’s dressed in a loose silk gown, the ashen strands of her hair catching the moonlight as she wanders. Astarion’s boots sift through the sand, avoiding dead fish and trash. Waterdeep surpasses Baldur’s Gate in terms of charm and beauty, but unfortunately, the Dock Ward doesn’t offer much improvement over the lower city. Astarion approaches Celeste, his eyes fixed on the ground as if lost in deep contemplation.

“Good evening. Enjoying the ambiance?”

Celeste, startled, swiftly regains her composure and spins around to face him, her breath catching in her throat.

“You.” she says, more irritated than surprised. Astarion’s eyes twinkle with mischief. 

“It seems we keep finding each other,” he says in a sultry tone. 

“Or, you just seem to keep turning up wherever I am…” she assesses him suspiciously.

Astarion feigns hurt. “Is my presence such a nuisance?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “It’s only natural I’d seek you out after our encounter in the library. I’m already finding myself quite smitten.” He leans in as his lips curve into a wicked smile. 

“Smitten?” Celeste laughs. “You barely know a thing about me.”

Astarion shrugs. “I know more than you think. I’ve only just finished reading a very interesting volume in Gale’s possession. The Lost Children of the Moon, quite an illuminating read.”

Celeste recoils, familiar with the book. She’d made efforts to stow away copies from the public she’d come across at university or in the library archives, with no idea how the vampire spawn might have found one.

Then again…of course. Gale.

“Fucking Mystra.” she mutters. Astarion chuckles. 

“Fucking Mystra, indeed. Gale told me about you as well.” Astarion pauses, amused. “Although, even without guidance, I would have had my suspicions…”

“I somehow doubt that. You seemed just about as fucking clueless as could be last night. But I’m glad Gale could fill you in on my business.” 

“Your secret is safe with me, darling, so long as mine is safe with you.” Astarion purrs, unable to hold back a taunting smirk. “Are you cross with Gale?”

Celeste releases a long exhale.

“I respect him. He’s a talented wizard, and he’s survived a great deal. It’s unfortunate what Mystra put him through.” She watches the relentless ebb and flow of the water, submerging the sands in frothy white foam before receding into the sea again.

“I heard about his little crush on you. What an ill side-effect of possessing such otherworldly beauty.” Astarion cocks his head.

Celeste scoffs and he finds himself amused by her adverse reactions to his flattery. He is careful to mind the line between invading her space and making her just uncomfortable enough that he maintaining the upper hand in the conversation.

He leans in. “You don’t seem very pleased by my words.” 

Celeste takes a pointed step backwards. “Let’s just…keep it friendly, alright?” As she turns back towards the city, Astarion follows, his steps silent as he plunges his hands into his pockets.

“Vampires don’t do friendly all that well, darling.”

“I can tell from the incessant flirting.”

“Ah, come now, you cannot deny you find my flattery…endearing.” he responds in a husky voice. “Come now, tell me, how many men have you had fluttering after you over the years? I mean, besides Gale and his…practiced tongue.” Astarion says in a mocking tone, reflecting on a cringe-inducing description he once overheard Gale himself use. 

“That’s quite the personal question, and an answer I’m not sure you deserve.” 

“Forgive me. I’m curious, dear.”

Celeste wordlessly makes her way from the beach onto the cobblestone streets.

Astarion considers her silence for a moment before pressing more. “Don’t make me beg, darling. I want to get to know you.” 

“You seem…intelligent, if not calculating. You’re layered, attractive, recently heroic... shouldn’t there be a million other options at any of the taverns in this city? Why are you following me around?”

“Yes, yes, please, continue to stroke my ego,” He replies with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “I do so adore being praised.”

She can tell he’s enjoying the banter, but something got under his skin. “Have I struck a nerve?”

Astarion sighs. His earlier facade has melted away, becoming noticeably more contemplative. 

“Perhaps I don’t want to be pursued by the patrons of the Blushing Nymph or the Sleeping Snake. And perhaps I don’t want to live up to the pressure of people thinking I’m some sort of heroic exemplar of goodness.”

“Do you dread what people would expect from you? Are you afraid that they would reduce you only to what you can offer them?”

“Where has serving others ever gotten me? Condemned to centuries of enslavement to an egotistical and sadistic vampire who only ever saw me as a means to an end?” A solemn expression settles on his face, casting a shadow over his features. “I have done nothing of consequence and lost years of potential.” 

Silence hangs between them for a moment before Celeste speaks. 

“So, what do you intend to do about it now?”

“You mean, besides continuing to fill my mind with pointless knowledge and chasing meaningless exchanges of passion?” Astarion can feel himself becoming heated, feeling the weight of his history upon him. “I can’t say I have any sort of plan. My entire existence feels like one large misstep. I don’t know what could undo so many wasted years and atrocities done in the name of someone else.” He looks at the ground, avoiding her gaze.

Celeste halts her steps. “I don’t think there’s undoing, just moving on. Perhaps, redemption.”

Astarion scoffs. “Redemption? I’m not interested in redemption.” He spits out the word as if it burns his tongue.

“Yet you seem to harbor some guilt.” Astarion gives her a dangerous look, and she eases off the subject, glancing at the library in the distance. “You know, I can blow off work tonight. Maybe I would like to get to know you better.”

Astarion’s expression brightens. Her proposition restores some of his confidence, and he gestures grandly in front of him. 

“I thought you’d never ask. Perhaps we should visit the Blushing Nymph, make up for some of those lost years and do something worth remembering?” he suggests in a low voice.

“I think the Yawning Portal will do just fine.” She changes directions towards the nearby inn and Astarion takes a few quick steps to catch up to her. 

“Come now, you can’t possibly keep up that serious and reserved act the entire time. We both know it’s a matter of time before you tire yourself of keeping such a distance…” he gently pulls at her arm, turning her to face him. “I cannot help but be enticingly curious about exactly what sort of trouble you’re hiding,” he says seductively.

“Don’t ruin the moment with meaningless flirting, Astarion.” She tugs her arm away. Astarion gives a smug half-smile and follows her down the street to the tavern. Her disposition captivates him. The challenge of making her open up will be enjoyable for him.

Once inside, Astarion orders a bottle of Ithbank and the two settle into a corner table next to one another. The wine, while not exceptional, diffuses the tension and softens Celeste’s demeanor. As the hours pass, they empty a couple of bottles while he shares the details of his year, his eclectic group of travel companions, and their fight against the Absolute. Astarion vampirism gives him a strong tolerance for liquor, but his Moonborn companion seems to struggle to keep up. Not missing a beat, he seizes the opportunity to edge closer to her, casually draping an arm around her, his fingertips playfully caressing her exposed shoulder. 

“Careful, dear, one more glass and your tongue may slip. How unfortunate that you might ruin this entertaining little game of cat and mouse we’ve found ourselves in,” he murmurs, leaning in close. “So many things you could accidentally reveal, how fun it would be to hear them…”

She sighs, the Ithbank wearing down her defenses. “What is it you want to know?”

“Everything. You have become quite the enigma, after all. Do you ever let anyone in?” 

Celeste groans, annoyed. “There was a Harper, in Baldur’s Gate.” 

“Intriguing. One of Jaheira’s perhaps?”

“You know Jaheira?” she asks, surprised. 

“We have…history.”

Celeste raises an eyebrow and Astarion scowls. “Not that kind of history.”

Celeste nods. “Jaheira and the Harpers were like family for a long time.” Astarion takes note to ask more about Celeste and Jaheira later, before pressing further on his previous line of questioning. 

“So you like the hero types?” Astarion teases. “What ended this…entanglement of yours? Did things simply not work out, or did someone or something intervene?”

“I’ve had no other choice but to guess that he got himself killed.” Celeste responds bluntly. “He left one day and never returned, never responded to any of my letters. I never heard from Jaheira either. I stopped looking after a year passed and came back to Waterdeep.”

“Jaheira’s been…busy. Don’t hold it against her.” He leans in slightly over the table. “Tell me more about your brave Harper. What was it about him? What broke Celeste’s impenetrable walls of indifference?”

“He was…” her voice trails off as she thinks. “Daniel was confident. Hard working. Brave. Cocky and sarcastic…like you. Had a mean streak. But there was a softness underneath.” Astarion cannot suppress a chuckle at her answer. 

“And that was all? Kindness? Basic heroics? I must apologize for expecting something grander, given that he broke through your icy demeanor.”

She pours herself another glass of wine as she speaks. “Leave it to you to be envious of a dead man.”

“Darling, I am a dead man. Although I seem to be holding up better than your dearly departed.” He sips at his wine and sets it down slowly, fingers tracing the rim absentmindedly. “So, were there others?” Astarion looks up at her through lowered eyelids.

She takes a drink and sighs, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. “There was Gale, as you already know. Just a brief, one-off sort of thing. Nothing serious or lasting. I’ve learned my lesson on long-term entanglements.”

“So you’ve left a trail of abandoned lovers in your wake. How cruel. But at least we know you’re experienced.” Astarion teases. Celeste’s head is too foggy to come up with a response as he leans in, lips brushing against her ear. “Why not give me a chance to help you forget them all, love? I could make your skin quiver with desire, have you begging me to take you.”

Celeste’s body tenses, her senses heightened as a warm, sensual feeling washes over her, unable to resist its allure as the wine blurs her inhibitions. Astarion reaches his hand down, running it against the small of her back before his fingers curl around her waist. His gaze lingers on her collarbone for a moment. “I think your guard is already weak. Just a bit more pressure and I’ll have you a whimpering mess…”

“Stop.” she says, her voice just above a whisper as she looks around the tavern. Nobody seems to pay them much mind at all. 

Astarion quickly removes his hands from her with feigned frustration. “Alright, alright.” he sighs. “How am I supposed to find your soft spot if you keep me at bay?”

“If you focused more on getting to know me rather than following some practiced pattern of seduction, you may have more luck.” Celeste snaps. Astarion can’t help but find it amusing, and he tries to conceal a smile by sipping his drink. 

“And if I did get to know you,” he lowers his voice again, “what would I find if I genuinely put in the effort?”

“Well, isn’t that the point? Seeing me as a person rather than some conquest?” she asks him, a raw edge to her voice.

“Alright, let’s play by your rules for a bit. You have my word. I’ll lay off the seduction.” He shifts back in his seat, leaning away from her, spreading his arms wide. “I will endeavor to be a perfect gentleman.”

Her posture relaxes some, but her head feels blurrier than ever. 

“Thank you.” She says, rubbing her temple. Astarion looks over her carefully. 

“Surely you have questions for me? Ask me anything.” He insists, leaning back as he crosses one leg over the other. He smiles and drapes one arm over the back of his chair as the other holds his wine goblet out to the side. Celeste contemplates for a moment.

“Do you have a family?” she asks Astarion, who appears caught off guard by the question. He gathers himself and his brow furrows. This was supposed to be a flirtatious game, a delicate series of exchanges to lead to…well, hopefully the next morning.

“Within reason.” He takes a drink of wine with a disgruntled expression. Celeste locks eyes with him, her stare unwavering, silently demanding a response. 

“Fine.” he relents, sighing dramatically. He pauses for a moment, swirling his wine in the goblet.

“My parents are dead.” What else could he say?

“My sympathies.” He’s casually prodded at her personal life enough that she doesn’t feel a shred of guilt for making him uncomfortable. 

“Did you ever…check on them when you were a vampire? Did they look for you?” she presses. 

Astarion clears his throat. “I presume they looked for me, but I didn’t want to burden them with what I’d become. Didn’t want to give Cazador more leverage to use against me or punish me with. They are elves, and we notoriously live quite a long time, even without having to become a vampire spawn. I suppose there’s a chance they’re still alive, out there somewhere, but I prefer to leave my mortal life…behind.” His tone is quiet, contrasted by his usual arrogance. “And your family? They perished in that Sharran attack, correct?” he asks, as if firing back. 

“Yes.” She answers. Astarion nods, expression a bit more solemn.

What was meant to be an entertaining game of back and forth had become quite sobering, and neither of them knew how to continue. Astarion considered asking another, more lighthearted question to break the tension, but suspected there was a better way to address the sudden somber mood. 

“How long has it been since you lost your family?” he asks. 

“About twenty years.”

“Twenty years…” Astarion echos. “And how old are you? You don’t look like you’re edging anywhere near forty, but Gale had mentioned Moonborn stop aging in their late twenties.”

“I’ve been alive for 36 years, I’ve physically been 28 for the last eight years, and I’ll remain that way until I die,” she says. 

“Forever young.” Astarion says bitterly. 

“Shouldn’t be anything new to you,” Celeste chimes back. “Though I guess the young part would be a bit of a stretch…” she teases, reaching out towards his face, her forefinger resting under his chin as her thumb brushes the crease of his mouth. He scowls at her, removing her hand but maintaining a controlled gentleness in his touch as he does so. Celeste laughs and his annoyance diffuses. It’s an effortless sound, and it takes him by surprise.

“You said…Cazador was your master. That you killed him?”

“Cazador…was the most cruel being I have ever had the displeasure of encountering. He forced me to lure men and women back to him, to be fed upon and trapped in filthy cages — without my knowledge, to later be sacrificed. He’d torture me, punishment for whatever perceived shortcoming or defiance I’d commit. I’d spend many nights - once an entire year - in total solitude, with only the sound of my own cries in an empty tomb. Would you like me to proceed?” he asks, an edge developing in his voice.

Celeste shudders. “You don’t have to…”

“One particular day, Cazador attempted to conduct a ritual, a profane ascension rite, to achieve a means of total power. To become the most powerful vampire in existence.” Astarion leans closer. “But I’d been conveniently lost.” He gestures to mimic a cloud of dust. “And when I interrupted his ritual, I killed him. I nearly overtook the ritual for myself, but…” His voice trails off. “Gale convinced me to stop. Told me I would be doomed to become exactly what I hated…become him, if I did so. So instead, I released his prisoners, thousands of vampires, and my six spawn siblings, into the Underdark.” Celeste gapes at him.

“I…had no idea.” 

“Oh, we aren’t done here, my dear,” Astarion stands, offering his hand, “you asked, and now you’re in for the whole show.”

She reaches out tentatively, and he abruptly pulls her after him. 

“Where are we going?” She begins to regret the extra glass of Ithbank as she stumbles up the stairs behind him.

“I want to show you a parting gift Cazador left me.” Astarion’s grip is firm as he leads her towards one of the inn’s guest rooms. He raps his knuckles against the door twice and then swings it open. A half-naked elf couple jolt up in bed together. Astarion doesn’t even react as they leap from the mattress, startled, one of them holding a blanket against herself. 

“Out!” Astarion snarls, and neither of them questions him, grabbing their clothes and hurrying into the hall. He pulls Celeste inside the candlelit room and shuts the door, ignoring her mortified expression. Before she can say anything, Astarion draws a deep breath, rolling his head to the side with a sigh as he unbuttons his shirt. 

Celeste watches, her face flushing, as Astarion carefully slips his shirt off, exposing the pale expanse of his torso. He stands still for a moment, regarding her. 

“Finally,” his voice is husky, “a bit of color against that pallor.” A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. He reaches out and delicately guides her hand to rest against his waist, savoring the sensation of her fingers gliding against him as he gives her a view of his back. 

The candlelight slightly obscures the scars carved into his skin, but as Celeste’s vision adjusts, she can see them form a pattern of foreign text in a sort of sinister wheel. “Gods…” she says, taking a step forward, “Infernal? What a monster.”

“I once thought they were poems.” Astarion says with disgust. Celeste doesn’t recoil, instead she slides her fingers to his shoulder, where a jagged part of a scar begins. A chill runs down Astarion’s spine as she caresses his skin. He can feel the delicate pressure, and although he’s uncomfortable, he resists the urge to pull away. There’s something satisfying in her touch.

“I appreciate your vulnerability. Your past is safe with me,” she says, her hand falling back to her side. Astarion turns around and regards her quietly, his heart softening a bit. He’s not acquainted with vulnerability, nor has he had many genuine connections in his long life. Her compassion is a foreign gesture, but deeply appreciated. 

“This wasn’t for sympathy, you know,” he says coldly, “just consider it a bit of show and tell,” he adds with a forced grin.

“You don’t have to dismiss a genuine moment between us as sympathy.” Astarion’s throat tightens, and he feels an unexpected flutter in his stomach. Suddenly, he steps forward, taking her hands in his, as though compelled. It’s a bold move, but his attraction to her is overwhelming, and the effects of the wine have lowered his inhibitions a bit. 

Celeste pulls away, turning around quickly and stumbling. Astarion reaches out to steady her.

“Careful darling…” he says, holding her with both hands.

“I think…maybe I need to go home.” She says. Astarion’s expression softens.

“Of course. Let’s get you to bed.” He leads her out the door and down the stairs. In the main room of the tavern, the now-clothed elf couple angrily accost the barkeep. One of them points to them as he and Celeste walk towards the door. Astarion quickly draws an arm around Celeste, swiftly guiding her out onto the cobblestone street with him.

“So,” she says, after they’ve walked for a few minutes, his arm still draped around her shoulders, “since you’re so interested in my love life, why don’t you tell me about yours?” 

“My love life?” Astarion runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ve spent the last two centuries with Cazador. There’s not much to discuss.” 

“You never fell in love?” she asks, glancing over at him. The alcohol has begun to wear off, leaving her with the start of what promises to be an awful headache. 

“When I was Cazador’s captive?” he shakes his head. “No. There was no time for anything but survival.”

“Not even before you were a vampire?”

“That was centuries ago. Mostly a long string of one-night stands.”

“How many people have you bedded?” she asks, playfully.

“Bedded? Plenty. Thousands…I’ve lost count.”

“You didn’t care for any of them?” 

“Did I care for them?” Astarion’s laugh is bitter. “Not particularly. There were some I almost pitied…” his voice trails off for a moment before he continues. “The only choice I had was to convince myself it wasn’t so bad. To play the rake for Cazador. I learned what it was to survive.” Astarion’s jaw clenches. “For a long time, the only way I knew how to survive was to be…apathetic.”

“Have you been with anyone since you escaped?” Celeste asks.

“I’ve…considered it. For a time I wasn’t interested at all, but after I killed Cazador…I became interested again, but not interested enough in anyone in particular.” 

“You seem to be quite interested in me.” The words fall out of Celeste’s mouth before she can stop them. Astarion pauses and gently grabs her by the shoulders, turning her towards him. He steps closer, tilting her chin up.

“My dear. I want you in ways that should terrify you.”

“Does it terrify you?” she dares to ask as she stands there, frozen. He drops her chin, flinching slightly in surprise. 

He forces himself to laugh. “No.”

“I think you need a friend, not a lover, Astarion.”

“Why not both?” he asks, flashing a devilish grin before his face becomes serious again. He sighs. “Every concept of love has been twisted into some perverse mockery by Cazador in an attempt to control me.” His hand reaches out, drifting to the small of her back as he pulls her closer. “Perhaps I’d like to make my own rules. Figure it out as I go.” 

His other hand slowly works its way up her jaw, his thumb resting against her bottom lip. “We can call this friendship, if that’s what you prefer…” he growls, his lips catching her own. She lets out a sound of protest but returns the kiss for a moment, completely lost in it, then, with a staggering realization, pushes him off her. He stumbles back, unsure of how to proceed.

She draws in a deep breath. “Friends,” she says, wiping her mouth. “For now.”

“For now?” He asks in a provocative tone, an eyebrow raised.

“Goodnight, Astarion.” Suddenly vexed, she turns towards home and leaves him bewildered and alone in the middle of the road. 

“I’ll, ah…find you tomorrow?” he calls after her, his voice hanging between lighthearted and confused. He glances down at his hands as he wrings them in a futile attempt to displace the wound to his ego. Celeste responds in a crude gesture that she throws over her shoulder without looking back.

[straightupsickfics]

not really a sickfic as much as ed having a sore knee and both of them having a lot of feelings, + thanksgiving vibes <3

*****

“Well my dear, I think that was quite the success,” Stede says, tossing a dishtowel aside and curling himself around Ed on the couch. He’d insisted on helping Stede finish cleaning up the kitchen after the last of their guests left, but Stede could see Ed’s limp become more and more pronounced as they worked, and so he’d been sent to the living room with a cup of tea and a heating pad and the promise that Stede would join him soon.

And now he is, threading a careful hand through Ed’s salt and pepper hair and asking, “You’re not asleep already, are you?” which gets him a sleepy-eyed smile and a shake of Ed’s head.

“Mm, not without you,” Ed yawns. “Close, though,” he admits. It was their first Thanksgiving as hosts, though by the time everyone arrived and unloaded their sides, appetizers, and, in Roach’s case, five desserts, they hardly had to do very much. Well, that, and Stede had started designing their tablescape a week early, complete with place cards and intricate centerpieces.

“Good,” Stede says, smiling as Ed melts right against him, turning and tucking his face into Stede’s neck, nuzzling in close.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love those guys, and Mary and the kids,” Ed says into Stede’s skin. “But this is about all I wanted for the last five fucking hours.”

“Five hours, hm?” Stede murmurs.

“Yep.” Ed hisses out a sign when Stede leans over and kneads his knee the way Ed likes when it’s bothering him. “Ah, fuck, that’s perfect.”

“Surely the least I can do after five hours,” Stede teases.

“You’ve done more than enough, love,” Ed tells him. “Think you sealed the role as host of the year with this one. Should be a plaque coming in the mail any day now.”

“A plaque, hm?” Stede says happily. “Well, I do love being recognized for my work.”

Ed laughs, a low, warm, rumbling sound that Stede can feel right in his chest, until he can’t help but hug him in closer. “I know you do.”

“Should we watch one of the Christmas movies you love so much?” Stede asks, sitting up just long enough to grab for the remorse before Ed tugs him back onto the couch.

“You love them,” Ed corrects, though he’s smirking as he says it.

“You do too, and someday I’ll get you to admit it,” Stede tells him. He leans in and brushes their lips together. “If we were in a Christmas movie, you’d be the hot, lumberjack in the small town that sweeps the heroine off her feet!”

Ed frowns, considering. “And what would you be?”

“Probably the soon-to-be-husband the heroine is running from,” he says, and laughs, right from his belly, loud and joyous enough that Ed can’t help but join him, too.

“Nah, you’d be like, the hot bookstore owner who is the glue of the stupid town. You’d organize the Christmas Eve 5k run and donate food to the needy.”

“A 5K? On Christmas Eve? What do you take me for, darling?” Stede admonishes.

Ed kisses him, slow and sweet. “Hm, if that doesn’t work… Guess you’ll have to be the new in town, down on his luck guy that changes everything for the hot lumberjack, then.”

Stede can’t help but melt a little at that, because it’s true, that’s just about what happened when they met, shortly after Stede’s divorce. They’d been inseparable since the day they met, like they’d just been waiting to come together all these years, and now, after all that waiting, they can’t bear to be separated again.

Stede can’t, anyway, though by now he’s confident enough to know Ed certainly feels the same way.

“Everything?”

“Everything,” Ed repeats, and kisses him again before they can even press play. “Enough that he’ll be hosting Thanksgiving dinners and cuddling on a couch and not missing his old life at all. In fact, he’d probably wonder how the fuck he put up with himself, alone like that for all that time.”

“Well,” Stede says, feeling his face flush, all the way up to the tips of his ears. “I’d say that’s better than any movie we could find.”

And then Ed has to kiss him about that, so much so that the movie is entirely forgotten.

[xxcookiecrumbsxx]

Another drabble. V similar to the last one sorry. They talk about their future together.

Full below

one semester after end of season one

“Enid,” Wednesday greeted.

Enid looked up, sniffling. “Hi.”

Wednesday immediately approached her bed. “Why are you crying?” Her tone sounded neutral to untrained ears but Enid could hear the hint of compassion.

“It’s stupid.”

Wednesday sat next to her. “Maybe I’ll think it’s stupid, yes, but that’s never stopped you before.”

Enid sighed.

Wednesday spoke again, softer, and laid a hand on Enid’s arm gently. “Even if I think it’s stupid, you obviously care. And I care if you care.”

Enid finally looked up, red rimmed eyes meeting seemingly cold ones.

“I just, are, um, are you going to break up with me when we graduate?”

Wednesday looked slightly taken aback. “We still have more than a year left.”

Enid picked at a loose thread on her comforter. “Do you not think we’ll even be together that long?” she asked, her voice quiet and somehow both sad and nervous with a forced neutrality.

Wednesday’s hand immediately landed on top of hers. “I just thought we had more time to discuss this, I didn’t know it would already be on your mind. I don’t intend to break up with you at graduation. I had hoped we could find a university we would both be happy with and continue to be roommates. Unless that does not sound acceptable to you.”

Enid wiped her tears, obviously calmer now. “Yes, yes that sounds good.”

Wednesday picked up Enid’s hand and brought it to her lips for a kiss, then continued to hold it in both of hers. Enid blushed, finally meeting Wednesday’s now intense gaze.

“Enid, I intend to be with you for the rest of my life. An Addams does nothing halfway, absolutely the least of which romantic affection. I am yours infinitely unless you someday decide you no longer wish to have me.”

More tears sprang to Enid’s eyes and Wednesday’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why are you crying more?”

Enid laughed. “Because that was so romantic, silly. It made me emotional. In a good way.”

Wednesday nodded slowly, pressing another kiss to her hand. “I’m still getting aquatinted with the idea of being emotional in a good way.” She reached out to wipe the tears off Enid’s face. “Do you feel better?”

Enid nodded and squeezed Wednesday’s hand in hers. “Yes.” She scooted closer to Wednesday. “Permission to kiss you?”

“Granted,” Wednesday said immediately, making Enid grin. She kissed Wednesday softly, barely a brush of their lips.

Wednesday blushed as she said, “permission granted to kiss more than that, if desired.”

Enid laughed, leaning in to kiss Wednesday with more force and bringing her hand up to her cheek.

one semester before graduation

Wednesday had never seen Enid look so small as when she hung up on her still yelling mother.

Wednesday had never been good at comforting people. There hadn’t been many attempts, if she was being honest. There hadn’t been many people she’d wanted to comfort in her life, not before Enid. Now she regretted her inability as the girl she loved most in the whole world barely restrained her sobs.

“Enid-“

Enid interrupted her with a voice both harsh and watery. “Don’t. I-I don’t want to talk about it right now.” She paused before adding in a whisper. “I just need a minute.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

Enid shook her head vigorously, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks now in heavy streams. She sniffled. “No,” she said as firmly as she could before turning to a vulnerable whisper once again. “Can you come here?”

Wednesday couldn’t say no to the desperation in her voice if she tried. She was immediately on her feet and at Enid’s bedside. She’d never felt so much compassion and sympathy for another person in her life. It felt like someone stabbed her in the chest, not in a pleasant way, seeing Enid so deeply upset, especially having watched it all play out.

“Can you hold me, please?” she asked, voice incredibly broken.

Wednesday propped her head up against Enid’s pillow, otherwise laying, and Enid laid between her legs and on top of her, head to her chest. Wednesday’s arms wrapped around her tightly.

Enid finally let the dam break in the comfort of her embrace, loud sobs ringing out against her neck.

Enid had called to tell her parents about their relationship. Wednesday had gathered their lack of compassion when Enid failed to wolf out on their timeline, but she still wasn’t prepared for the amount of bigotry and hatred she heard spewed on the phone just now at hearing that their daughter was queer.

She squeezed Enid tighter, occasionally pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

She hadn’t had high hopes for their response, and neither had Enid. But despite both being surprised by the level of their disapproval, Enid had tried to prepare for the worst. She waited until she was 18 to tell them, until she was already set to graduate Nevermore with Wednesday. While she didn’t exactly have a plan for this worst case scenario, she wasn’t quite as stuck under them.

It took nearly half an hour for her crying to subside, but eventually it did. Wednesday continued holding her tightly in silence, one hand drawing comforting patterns lightly on her back.

“Wednesday?” she finally whispered, her voice cracked from her crying.

“Yes, my love?”

Enid moved to lay next to her so they could face each other. If Wednesday’s heart wasn’t breaking for this beautiful girl before, it shattered the moment she saw the depth of the sadness and fear in her ocean eyes.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Wednesday lightly laid a hand on her cheek, stroking her still damp tear streaks.

“I’ve already expressed my intention to be with you forever. My family has already accepted you, fully, as one of their own.” She pressed a firm kiss to her forehead. “We’re going to take care of you, Enid. I don’t want you to worry even a little.”

Enid nodded and sniffled, more tears filling her eyes.

“You’re an Addams now. You have been for a while.”

End nodded again. After a few minutes of silent contemplation Enid spoke again.

“I can get a job, when we get settled in Boston.”

Wednesday shook her head, finding Enid’s hands to hold them both in hers. “You will do no such thing. I’m not exaggerating, Enid. We are going to take care of you. I’ve already discussed it with my family, I apologize for keeping it from you. Your tuition to Emerson will be paid in full, as will our shared living expenses.”

Enid’s eyes widened. “Wednesday-“

She squeezed Enid’s hands to stop her. “Enid, you saved my life. Don’t get any ideas, but even if you break my heart my family intends to care for you. Don’t make me list all of the threats attached to your refusal.”

Enid finally broke a small grin. “Okay, okay. I accept the overwhelming generosity.”

Wednesday gave a curt nod. “Good. My only other idea to convince you was proposing a bit earlier than I’d planned.”

Enid raised a brow. “A bit? Are you planning to propose soon?”

Wednesday was silent for a long moment, one hand running through Enid’s hair.

“I’ve said too much.”

(A/N: Wednesday was willing to go to whatever university Enid wanted, at least for undergrad. When Enid decided she wanted to study journalism she picked Emerson because that’s where her favorite journalist, Nancy Wheeler, went to school)

[sexysapphicshopowner]

🤎 Context/AU (Alternate Universe): Alaysia (pronounced Uh-lay-see-yuh) takes care of E’Laney while she’s on her period 🥺

🤎 Alaysia Montgomery: 23, owns a bakery with her mother

🤎 E’Laney Phillips: 22, 3rd grade teacher

🤎 CW/TW: fluff, comfort, established relationship, discussion of period, slight angst, Alaysia is intersex with male reproductive organs and genitalia but she has boobs and a more feminine build (need to find the art for her but she’d be perceived as female if you saw her walking by you basically and she uses she/her pronouns and while it’s not mentioned in this fic, I have more content for this ship), just a lil cute something really, mention of sue of side (briefly)

🤎 A/N: currently on my period and found some period care fluff pieces in my drive so I’m finishing and dropping them today. As usual hope my pookie enjoys @certainlynotasimp 🫶🏾 thank you for the support love bug. (Feel free to request getting added to my tag list)

🤎Word count: 2.6k

29th November 2018

“Someday, my love, you’re going to understand why I’m here. I’m not here to love you in the way that you were never loved by yourself or others. I’m here, on my own accord, to love you as myself. So that when you stare into the mirror of my eyes, you may be able to see just how extraordinary you are.”

Alaysia

It wasn’t my first rodeo caring for a sick Laney, nor for her while on her period, but it was the first time both happened at the same time. It was probably the worst period she’d had since we’d gotten together and I wanted nothing more than to make it better. I knew there was a lot I didn’t know about periods since I’d never had one, so I can only thank my mother for being so willing and open to talk to me about it so I could get everything just right for her.

I rubbed my face as I answered my phone groggily, “Mm. hello?”

“Hey, baby, could we maybe take a rain check on that brunch? I’m not feeling so well.”

I sat up, swinging my feet to the floor, “What’s wrong?”

She dismissed my concern, “It’s nothing big, I’m just on my period. You know how I usually get sick when I’m on and it hit me kind of hard this time around. My cramps are kicking my ass and I don’t wanna throw up or pass out or something while we’re out.”

I poked my lip out, “That sounds horrible, babe. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Mm, did I wake you up? Your morning voice is still hitting really hard.”

“Yeah but it’s fine, love. Get some rest, okay? We’ll go out when you’re feeling up to it.”

“Thanks for understanding, Laysi.”

I shook my head, “Always. I’ll talk to you later, baby.”

She yawned, “Mm, okay. Goodnight, Alaysia.”

I smiled softly, “Sleep well.”

The call ended and I called my mother, alright planning a care day for Lane in my head, “Hey, sweetheart, what’s up?”

“Hey, Mommy. I need to pick your brain about something.”

“Yes?”

I hesitated for a moment before remembering I could ask her about anything, “What does it mean when you’re on your period? Like, what do you do to feel better when you get like...cramps and nausea and stuff?”

She chuckled softly, “Who’s the girl?”

“Remember E’Laney? The girl from my old job at the grocery store?”

I could hear the smile, “You finally told her about your feelings?”

“Yeah, we’re kind of together now, it’s a long story. She just canceled a brunch date we had planned today because she’s on her period and really sick.”

“How cute. You might want to grab some pencil and paper to write this stuff down, it’s going to be a lot.”

I opened the drawer on my end table, pulled out a notebook and pen, set my phone down and placed it on speaker, “Okay, I’m ready.”

For about the next hour and a half, my mother gave me a deep dive about how painful a woman’s menstrual cycle was and what different things could help alleviate symptoms and pain. I closed my notebook as she finished, “Thank you so much. I think I’m going to pay her a visit.”

“Just make sure you keep her comfortable, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, tell me something.”

“Ma’am?”

“Does she know?”

“Actually...yeah, she does. I was extremely scared when it came to telling her, but she’s been the most understanding and compassionate person about it.”

“How long has it been?”

“It’s been about 8 months now. We’ve been together officially for 7 of them.”

“And when do I get to meet her?”

“Uhhhh...we’ll talk about it later.”

She clicked her tongue, “Tsk, tsk, tsk, alright. Go help your little girlfriend. Call me later, I could pass away, you never know.”

I turned my nose up, trying not to smile, “We’ve talked about that, Ma. It’s not funny.”

She giggled, “I love you to the moon and back, Laysi.”

“I love you there, back, and back around one more time.”

She blew a kiss into the phone, “I’ll talk to you later, baby. Mwah.”

“Mwah, talk to you later.”

I tossed my phone aside and headed to my bathroom to wash up quickly so I could go to the store. I picked up a lot of the things my mother told me would help with cramps and nausea and a couple of gifts I thought would cheer her up before heading to her place.

I knocked on the door as best I could with my hands full, waiting for her to open it. She pulled it open not too long after, gasping, “Lace, you didn’t.”

“Can I come in?”

She stepped to the side, shaking her head, “I can’t believe you. You didn’t have to do this.”

“It sounded really painful, so I called my mom and went to get a bunch of the things she told me might help you feel better,” I explained as she closed the door behind me.

“Really?”

I nodded, “I mean, well, yeah. I still wanted to come see you today and I figured I shouldn’t come empty handed.” She sniffled as I started setting all the bags down on her couch, wiping her face as I looked up, “Wait, no don’t cry. Did I get the wrong things? I should’ve called you, shouldn’t I?”

She waved her hand as she continued, wiping her tears with the other, “No, no, it’s fine, I just- I swear you’re too pure. I-” she cut off with a groan, holding her stomach, “Ugh, need to lay back down.”

Her comment reminded me that there was still more in the car and I snapped, rifling through the bags I had sat down, “Ah, I left the heating pad and little gifts I got you in the car. I’ll be right back, okay?”

She pouted, “Laysi, You got me gifts?”

I shrugged, “Just a few little things. I always go get you something when you’re on your period, you know this. Get comfortable, baby, I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll try.”

I kissed her forehead as she plopped onto the couch, “There’s some pain medicine in one of the Walmart bags,” I called, opening her front door as I went back to my car and grabbed the rest of the stuff. I made my way back inside, finding her curled up on the couch underneath one of the blankets I had bought, the package of blueberries open on her coffee table.

I sat everything down, beginning to go through it all and put away what I could in her meticulously put-together fridge before I left the pads and tampons on the floor next to the couch with the giant teddy bear I’d gotten her. I avoided waking her as I searched behind her couch for an outlet to plug in the heating pad.

Once it started to heat up, I crouched down and shook her lightly, “Hey, sit up for a moment.”

She stirred slightly, “Hm?”

“You want the heating pad?”

She held out her hand weakly, “Mhm.”

I shook my head, “Just sit up a bit so you can lay back down.”

She groaned as she woke up more, sitting up and holding onto my arm, “Urgh, wait. I don’t want you to go.”

I chuckled, kissing her temple, “I’m not going anywhere, Laney. What do you want from me right now?”

She moved to one end of the couch stretching and yawning, “Can you....mm, ‘scuse me, can you lay with me? Please?”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded, “Please? You don’t have to go to sleep with me, but I wanna cuddle.”

I got up, sitting back where she had just been laying, “Do you want the heating pad on your stomach or your back?”

She laid between my legs, nuzzling against my chest as she settled in, “My back, if you don’t mind.”

I obliged her wishes, placing the blanket back over her and wrapping my arms around her loosely, “I’m right here, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome, my love.”

She shook her head, “For all of this, I mean.”

“Again, you’re quite welcome, E’Laney. Get you some rest, I’m not going anywhere,” I assured, holding her a bit tighter.

“You promise,” she asked, holding her pinky up on the hand that rested on my chest.

I wrapped my pinky around it, pressing a kiss to her temple, followed by her nose, then her lips as I spoke, “I promise, baby.”

“What if I actually throw up on you?”

“I’ll clean you up and change into some of the clothes I have over here.”

“You won’t be mad?”

“Why would I be mad? Accidents happen, if you’re feeling a bit ill that’s a possibility but I’m never gonna make you feel bad for it. Shit happens sometimes.”

She relaxed against me, moaning softly as I massaged her scalp and rubbed her back, “Mm, I just thought about something.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t give me butterflies.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

She nodded softly, “Mhm.”

“How come?”

She pulled my hand from her back, lacing her fingers with mine, “My mom always told me that butterflies are a sign of nervousness, or fear. I’m not nervous, nor scared about the idea or knowledge of you having feelings for me. Never have been and never will be. I feel safe when I’m with you.”

I kissed her knuckles, smiling softly, “I’m glad I can make you feel that way. You on the other hand, mm, man I tell you I wish I could just sit here and hold you forever. You make me feel human in the best way possible. I see myself in ways I never thought I would. And I thank you for it.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

“I love you more than horses love hay.”

I chuckled softly, “And I love you more than flowers on a sunny day.”

She smiled, “I love you more than Van Gogh loved art.”

“And I love you more than the beating of my own heart. Now rest. We can have a stay-at home date when you wake up, okay?”

“M’kay. G’night, Laysi.”

“Goodnight, my Laney.”

two hours later...

The sound of groaning woke me up as E’Laney tossed and turned aimlessly in my arms and I frowned, not sure what was wrong, “Are you okay?”

She whined, “Hmm, it’s hot, it hurts.”

I pulled the blanket and heating pad off of her, feeling her forehead, “You’re not burning up, thankfully. Just a tad warm. Let’s get you some water and turn the air on, hm?”

She sat up, rubbing her eyes before widening them, whining again, “Oh I’m gonna kill myself.....”

“Don’t say that, love, what’s wrong?”

She pointed shakily to my lap, tears welling in her eyes, “I bled on you...”

I looked down to my lap, a bloodstain on my thigh and I waved a hand, “Clothes can be washed, Lane. Let’s get you a bath run, okay?”

She sniffled, still rubbing her face as she shook her head, “I’m really sorry, Laysi. I didn’t think about that before I asked you to cuddle with me. I’m sorry…”

I shook my head, holding my hands out for her, “It comes with the territory, love. As I said earlier, accidents happen. C’mon.”

I let her sit on the bathroom counter, reassuring her that things were alright as I drew her a bath. I stood between her legs, kissing the back of her hands, “You okay?”

She shook her head, “No, I feel terrible.”

“Well, how about this? You stay in here and take a bath and I’ll go make you something to eat and we can go back to cuddling. We can watch a movie or something, whatever you want.”

“Why are you doing all of this, Lace? I didn’t wanna be a bother today.”

I shook my head, running my thumbs over the back of her knuckles, “You’re not bothering me at all, baby. I told you I specifically called my mom so I could come take care of you. Everyone needs a caretaker when they’re sick and I still wanted to see you today, brunch date or not.”

She frowned, “But I’m all gross and whiny...and fucking, I bled on you and I just-,” her lip quivered as she held back more tears- “I literally do not deserve you...”

“You’re right, you deserve more than me. So, what do you say? We can have our own little day, just the two of us,” I offered, pressing more kisses to her knuckles and hands.

“I would love to,” she whispered, tears finally spilling over.

I wiped them from her cheeks, kissing her forehead, “I’m gonna get you some more water and pain meds to take when you get out of your bath, okay?”

She squeezed my hands, pulling me back in, “Wait.”

“Yes?” She held out her arms and I wrapped mine around her, rubbing her back slowly, “You’ll be okay, baby, I promise. I love you, alright? And I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know, it’s just I feel like shit, and I don’t wanna ask you for too much, this is already so-”

“Laney?”

She hiccupped softly, huffing as she squeezed me tighter, “Yes?”

I pulled away so she could look at me, holding her face in my hands, “I love you, okay? That’s all that matters. You can have whatever you want from me. If you ask me to wrangle the stars for you, I’m gonna do my damn best to make it happen. Now breathe for me, baby.”

She took a deep breath, leaning into my hands further, “I love you, Alaysia.”

I kissed her nose, “I love you more, now relax. Take your time, get in your bath and I’ll be in the kitchen, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, “But you have to kiss me first.”

I chuckled, kissing her lips softly, “There’s my girl. I’ll come check in on you in a bit, alright?”

“Kay.”

E’Laney

God am I thankful to have such an attentive girlfriend as Alaysia. I never had to worry about feeling shitty while on my period after that day. Before, I’d always asked her to just cuddle with me, maybe go get me some pain meds, but not only did she do research but stuck with me the whole week even when I pushed her away. I love her for putting up with me and my emotions all the time.

I woke up to her shaking my shoulder, the water lightly splashing around me as she did, whispering, “Hey, wake up for me, baby. You wanna get out of there?”

I shook my head, pulling my knees to my chest, “Mh-mh, I’m comfortable.”

She laughed softly, smiling, “While I’m glad you seem to be feeling a little better, we’ve gotta get some food into you. C’mon, I grabbed you something comfortable to put on and you’ve got a box of pads and tampons on the counter. I don’t know which you use so I got both.”

I poked my lip out, “You’re too incredibly thoughtful. Can you help me out of here?”

She stood back, holding her hands out for me to grab, pulling me to my feet. She grabbed the towel she’d pulled out as I unplugged the drain, holding it up for me to step into, “So I made a period snack friendly charcuterie board, you’ve got some tea, and I got a list of your favorite movies from Caira.”

I couldn’t help but smile up at her as she wrapped the towel around me, securing it at the front, “Have I told you that I love you today?”

“Why yes, you have, but it never hurts to say it again,” she joked.

I grabbed her hand as she finished, “Hey.”

“Yes?”

“I really do love you, Lace. Like, with all of me.”

“I know, and I love you more.”

“You’d really wrangle the stars for me,” I asked.

“Laney, if I could, I would gather entire galaxies for you.”

I ran my thumb over the back of her hand, “Get out before I ask you to marry me. Corny fucker.”

She chuckled, pulling me in to kiss me softly before she left, “Yet, you love me still. And trust me, I’ll be the one doing the asking when the time comes.”

🤎©️ All work belongs to sexysapphicshopowner. Do not use or repost my content in any way without my consent or permission. Thank you! 🤎

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@certainlmarseilleotasimp @trafalgardvivi

[iamnmbr3]

Hi. Brazilian guy here. I want to thank you again for taking the time and patience to help me out. I was feeling horrible, and knowing someone out there cared enough to help, even though we don’t know each other, meant a lot. I’m still struggling, feeling like there’s not much in the way of a better future for me and it wouldn’t be so bad if I went to sleep and never woke up again, but I’m forcing myself to at least try to be better until I do. I’m taking the meds and increased the number of appointments with my therapist, and I’m trying to do things that’ll help distract me from these thoughts and looking into ways to make what I want real. I still don’t know if my dreams will come true, but knowing that there’s people like you out there that care, that try to understand and give and words of encouragement to keep going, to not give up, even though they didn’t have to, you have no idea how much that means. We don’t know each other, maybe never will, yet in a moment of feeling like shit for some reason I just vented in your inbox with zero expectations, and instead of ignoring it or just reading and leaving it at that… you took the time and patience to help, you empathized, gave words of encouragement and offered advice! That is so precious and helped so much! I don’t know what the future holds for me, how I’ll get through this, but I’ll never forget what you did! I hope someday I’ll be able to tell you I made it, that I’m fine, that I made all those things I want happen and that I’m happy! Either way, right now, you helped me keep going! Thank you so much for this a thousand times over!

Wow. I am genuinely so honored and touched to receive this message. I'm glad I could help, even in a tiny way. None of us know if our dreams will come true for sure, but I think there's value in trying. Being unhappy makes it hard to do that because despair saps your strength and is like a weight hanging around your neck, but even taking the smallest steps to give yourself hope for the future can often give you some energy and a sense of greater control, and that can give you strength for more steps.

Building ideas for a better future in your mind will not only give you something to work towards but also will provide an escape for your mind and let you think about some pleasant things. I'm really glad that you are also working with your therapist and I hope you get into a better place and that one day you can be the one to be there for someone else.

I believe in you and I'm rooting for you. Feel free to come back to this blog anytime. I'm thinking of you and sending lots of love and good vibes your way.

Also, in case you are thinking about emigrating to another country, here are some resources about emigrating from Brazil that might be useful. (I provided resources for English speaking countries as well since you obviously already speak English very well). Also you should look into NGOs that can provide immigration assistance and counseling (but be careful to only choose legitimate ones as some organizations are scams that prey on people to take their money.)

Portugal (2 resources)

x

x

US (2 resources)

x

x

UK (1 resource)

x

Canada (1 resource)

x

And of course, if you choose to stay in your country you can explore opportunities in-country that might in the long term help you find a little happiness. Even things as simple as changing your daily routine to get more sleep, or learning how to make a favorite recipe at home cheaper than if you had to buy it so that you can have it more often, can make a difference.

[somethingdcrelated]

Every Comic I Have Read Or Am Currently Reading:

Have read:

https://readcomiconline.li/Comic/Justice-League-2016

https://readcomiconline.li/Comic/Adventures-of-the-Super-Sons

https://readcomiconline.li/Comic/Legion-of-Super-Heroes-1-050-Years-in-the-Future/TPB-Part-1?id=147145

https://readcomiconline.li/Comic/Legion-of-Super-Heroes-Bugs-Bunny-Special/Full?id=114700

https://readcomiconline.li/Comic/DC-Pride

https://readcomiconline.li/Comic/DC-Festival-of-Heroes-The-Asian-Superhero-Celebration

https://readcomiconline.li/Comic/Justice-League-2018

https://readcomiconline.li/Comic/Legion-of-Super-Heroes-1980

https://readcomiconline.li/Comic/Supergirl-Woman-of-Tomorrow

Currently reading:

https://www.webtoons.com/en/slice-of-life/batman-wayne-family-adventures/list?title_no=3180

https://readcomiconline.li/Comic/Dark-Knights-of-Steel

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Is it okay if you do (ningguang, jean, and ayaka) having an arranged marriage to s/o and they feel dreadful about being arranged to someone because they thought s/o will just use them, but turns out s/o is a sweetheart and they slowly fall in love with them <33

Them having an arranged marriage with reader and falling in love with them

characters: Ningguang/Jean/Ayaka x gn!reader

warnings: none, just fluff (except for the arranged marriage part)

a/n: Not gonna lie, at first I was scared that it might be a request for them breaking up because of an arranged marriage, but luckily it's not. I love the idea, so thanks!

Ningguangs part differs a bit from the request, since I don't think she would arrange a marriage for herself if she wasn't comfortable with it.

Anyway, hope you enjoy

Ningguang

For Ningguang the plan was simple, find someone with a respectable enough reputation to marry, meet them for the wedding before continuing life as if nothing ever happened. It may have been a extraordinary way to stop her many annoying suitors from trying to get her to marry them, but if there was anything the Tianquan was known for, it was extraordinary things. Who else would twice build a floating chamber to do work in?

Ningguang hadn’t cared for the personality of her future spouse, only making sure that they had a respectable or good reputation amongst the citizens of Liyue, but that didn’t stop her from being positively surprised once she actually met you. Whenever you talked to any kind of staff, your friendliness was immediately noticeable. Upon getting to know you better, it became clear that it wasn’t the friendliness done out of politeness, but a completely genuine one. And it wasn’t long until she could feel herself growing more and more fond of the person, she initially used to silence the people urging her to marry for real.

Even the most organized people forgot things from time to time, a fact Ningguang was reminded of when she noticed a few important papers missing once she had made herself comfortable in her office chair, but the moment she was about to call someone to fetch her the paperwork, someone knocked on the door. When it opened, it revealed you standing there, with a folder in hand, trying to catch your breath before finally marching to the desk and putting the missing paper in front of her.

“I noticed you left these behind and since you seemed to work on them yesterday, I thought they might be important”, you stated, only to widen your eyes in realisation before adding something in a panic. “If they’re not, then I’m really sorry for disturbing you.”

“Don’t worry, they are. I was just about to send someone to get them for me”, she answered while offering you a small but genuine smile, causing you to blush a little before you scratched the back of your head.

“T-that’s good to hear. I’ll let you work in silence now, until later”, you excused yourself before vanishing just as quickly as you came, leaving Ningguang sitting in silence.

She would have to be cautious or else she might actually fall for you.

Jean

Jean knew that she would have to marry someday. Just like her work as acting grandmaster it was also her duty, just to her family rather than to Mondstadt, but she still couldn’t help but stress whenever she thought about it. She had seen the way marriages could crumble first hand when her parents divorced and separated her and Barbara, and the books she used to read as a child, and still did to some degree, didn’t make an arranged marriage any more appetizing with how they depicted it.

But it was still her duty, so she didn’t complain about it. Before the two of you married, there were a few occasions on which you would met each other, but the meetings were never long enough for Jean to paint an accurate picture of your personality, so when the great day arrived, you two were still pretty much strangers. At first, she started coming home even later than usual, seeing it as a way to avoid the awkwardness of living together with someone she didn’t know, but when you eventually visited her office, not being denied entry by the knights since you were her spouse, she was forced to get to know you better.

To say her worries turned out to be completely unnecessary was an understatement, as you immediately turned out to be a caring and kind person, always urging her to take breaks or bringing her coffee no matter how late it was.

Jean found herself reading a romance novel she had managed to smuggle out of the library during a short, rare break. And since she was in her office, she felt that she was safe from anyone catching her with it. That still didn’t stop her from nervously glancing to the door every now and again, in worries that anyone might have entered without her realising. The story might not have been the best, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy it, the problematic part was, that Jean would catch herself more than once imagining the two of you in the roles of the protagonists, something that caused a huge blush to appear on her face every single time it happened. And then, there was a knocking on the door, causing Jean to hastily hide the book before calling the person on the opposite side of the door to come inside.

“Hello Jean, I hope you don’t forgot to take a break every now and then”, you greeted her and immediately noticed her red face and unusual behaviour before rushing to her side and putting your palm on her forehead, causing her situation to get even worse. “By Barbatos, your face is completely red and hot. Are you feeling sick?”, you instantly started questioning her, your voice betraying your genuine worry.

“Ah, no. I’m fine, it’s just a bit too hot for me”, she answered, only to remember that it was spring and that describing the weather with "hot", was the most obvious lie she could have told, but thankfully you didn’t question her any further, only giving her a distrusting look before letting out a sigh.

“Fine but let me at least bring you something to drink”, you requested and when she agreed, you quickly did what you had planned before leaving her to continue working again. It would be quite some time until she found the little note telling her to remember not to overwork herself, but when she did, she couldn’t help but fall even more for you.

Ayaka

The marriage was one of the last things her parents arranged before they passed. Since they weren’t alive anymore, Ayaka could have easily nullified the arrangement, but since she saw it as both her duty to someday marry and couldn’t bring herself to defy her parents last deal, the young Kamisato decided to honour the agreement once she was old enough.

After the day had come and both of you were wed, she tried to maintain her professional behaviour for as long as possible, but her nervousness and shyness were quickly made obvious for you. Causing you to immediately declare to her, that you didn’t intend on making her do anything she wasn’t 100% comfortable with. You quickly followed up on your promise and even though the two of you were married, your slow and gentle approach to making her comfortable with the relationship made the two of you behave like a typical, new couple. All of which made it inevitable, that you two would eventually start to slowly catch feelings for each other.

You stood in front of the doors to the changing room, waiting for Ayaka to finish changing so both of you could go to the summer festival together. Even though it was quite some time since the both of you had married, it would be the first time you two would be seen together for a special occasion, meaning that people couldn’t await to see the beloved princess and her spouse in action. When she eventually stepped out of the room, you were at a loss for words and the obvious blush that had developed on your face caused Ayaka’s face to heat up as well.

“You look amazing Ayaka”, you eventually complimented her, causing her to get even redder.

“Thanks for the kind words. You look great as well", she responded in her usual polite way of speech, but if the blush didn’t make it obvious enough, her tone made it even clearer how embarrassed she was by getting praised by you.

“Then, let’s go. We don’t want people to wait for us any longer, don’t we?” you asked with a small smile while offering her your hand. She quickly grabbed it before the two of you started walking into the direction of the festival. All the while Ayaka silently prayed that the sound of people loudly chatting in the distance would cover up the sound of her heart beating.

[thatbritishactor]

Adventures in Success (part 10)

Adventures in Success (part 10)

Paring : Ben Barnes x Reader

Summary:  Ben’s agent is retiring and the firm wants you to represent him. It’s going to be hard for you not to mix work with feelings.

Warning: None, language (cursing).

Words: 3,300

Type :  Fluff

Part 1     Part 2       Part 3       Part 4       Part 5      Part 6    Part 7   Part 8  Part 9

I.

You’ve been officially dating for two months, but it feels like you’ve been together for longer. You’ve met all of Ben’s close friends, and you’ve introduced him to a few of yours. You’ve had to deal with feelings of betrayal on their part: how dare you keep your relationship a secret for so long? You’ve been scolded and met with incomprehension, but as soon as they met him, they were instantly enthralled by him. Ben knows how to win people over: his effortless charm, wits and kindness conquer everyone around him.

You still spend most of your time at his place, finding it unbearable to be away from him. Thankfully, he seeks your company as much as you seek his, and time flies by when you’re together. It’s taken a toll on your work, you’re not as dedicated as before, and your boss is starting to notice. Before, your job came before everything else. You worked an average of fifty hours a week, dividing your time between script reading, meeting your actors, callings producers and casting directors.

Today, Ben comes before your work, even before your friends. You know that some of it isn’t healthy, and that you shouldn’t prioritize your relationship over everything else. But you can’t resist him, and you’re at your happiest when you’re with him. He seems to struggle as well, avoiding castings, not reading as many scripts as he used to. Whenever you start to get anxious about it, you quickly dismiss it, one glance at Ben is enough to dissolve all your fears. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted, and you intend to hold onto and fight for your relationship with everything you’ve got.

By the end of November, Ben has to leave for London, and the heart ache induced by your imminent separation keeps growing. You’ve spent the better part of a year wanting him so badly it hurt you, and now that you finally have him, you can’t imagine how you’re going to be able to go back to a life without him.

Your feelings for him scare you, for they seem to get stronger every day. You thought that you were already done for when you weren’t even dating him, but it’s getting even worse. Somehow, waking up next to him every day is even better than what you had ever imagined. Although, you know that this is the easy bit: the honeymoon phase. The part where you love everything about the person you’re newly dating and can’t imagine ever picking a fight with them. You know that someday, his flaws will get to you, and that you’ll find him annoying. But today, you just can’t imagine that you’ll ever come to hate anything about him.

Sure, he’s a distracted person. He forgets things, he daydreams a lot, and he’s a people pleaser. Something inside him pushes him to accommodate everyone around him, and you can see that it might trigger your insecurities someday. But for now, you simply adore him, and you want to indulge in those feelings as much as possible. You’re incredibly nervous about the upcoming separation: Ben has to be in London for at least four months, and you don’t know if you’ll be able to handle it. You’ve come up with a plan though, but you haven’t told him, wanting to surprise him.

The night before his departure, you’re lying in bed with him, tightly pressed against his chest. He places soft kisses on your forehead, and you can feel the regular pounding of his heart, lulling you to sleep.

You’re tired and your eyes close by themselves, but you refuse to drift away, because when you’ll wake up, you’ll have to take him to the airport, and you’ll be apart -again- for months. You’ve realized that apart from your anxiety, it’s the separations that pose the biggest threat to your relationship. But this man is so worth it, you think, his fingers slowly caressing your bare back; you’d do anything for him.

“Do you want me to turn off the light?” he murmurs, and you sigh, closing your eyes and rubbing your nose on his chest.

“No… I don’t want to sleep” you lie, and Ben chuckles.

“I can see you’re totally falling asleep, love” he says, and your heart misses a bit at the term of endearment. You haven’t told him you love him yet, although the words are demanding to escape your lips. You haven’t loved anyone the way that you love him, and your feelings for him are so obvious, it’s embarrassing. Something’s keeping you from uttering the words though: the fear that it’d scare him away. You’ve been together for two months, it’s too soon. You’re so deathly afraid of losing him, you don’t completely allow yourself to surrender to your feelings yet.

Ben calls you love though, and sweetheart, sometimes dear, and it’s the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard, making you melt into a puddle every time. You wonder if he wants to tell you he loves you too, but you dismiss the thought, distracted by Ben moving against you.

“All right, I’m shutting the light” he says, and you lift your head to protest.

“Nooooo” you whine, and he laughs, his arms holding you impossibly closer to him.

“What is it?” he asks, “I can see that you’re incredibly sleepy.”

“I don’t want to go to sleep, because I don’t want to be tomorrow” you reply, and you bury your face against his chest to hide your face. He sighs and rubs his cheek on your hair, and you raise your head to meet his dark eyes.

“I know, me neither” he admits, and you can hear the longing in his voice.

“It sucks” you reply, and he gently pushes a strand of hair away from your face.

“Tell me about it” he replies, pensive.

You let go of him and lean back, and he slowly lets you go, looking curious.

“At least you’re going to meet Phoebe Waller Bridge” you say, trying to change the subject, resting your head on your hand.  “I’m so jealous” you add.

Ben smiles, his eyes soft, and your heart clenches in your chest. He’s eerily beautiful, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to that. He takes your breath away twenty times a day, and you still can’t believe that you’re the lucky woman who gets to be with him.

“Want me to ask her stuff?” he asks, his beautiful black eyes appraising you.

“I’d have to write it down” you joke “I have so many questions for her”.

“Go ahead” he replies, sliding a hand through his hair. “I’ll ask her.” He says with a smirk on his lips.

“You’d do that for me?” you mock in a high voice, putting a hand on your chest and dramatically batting your eyelashes.

Ben lets out a laugh “Anything for the one I love”, he replies, and you instantly stop breathing. Ben doesn’t seem phased at all, getting back to slowly caressing your arm, his eyes following the movements of his fingers, while your voice is stuck somewhere in your throat. When the silence thickens, he glances back at you, frowning.

“Is everything all right?” he asks, seeming worried.

You blink stupidly, a lump in your throat.

“Y… yeah” you reply, lowering your eyes, your heart beating fast in your chest.

“C’mon, I know you by now” he sighs “I know when something’s bothering you” and there is that smile again, the one that could make snow melt.

“You’ve just said you loved me” you mutter, putting a hand over your eyes, unable to meet his gaze. He laughs again, before placing a hand on the side of your face, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been in love with you for a year now, don’t tell me this comes as a surprise” he says in an incredulous voice, and you close your eyes, unable to handle the storm of emotions overwhelming you.

When you open them again, he’s still gazing at you, the softest expression on his face, and you lean in to kiss him.

“I love you too” you whisper against his lips, and his hands cup your face before they slide in your hair. You roll on your back, his weight on top of you, your heart seeming to burst in your chest.

II.

It’s become a ritual now: you play the music from Bo Burnham’s Inside in the morning while you’re both getting ready, and the two of you sing along to the soundtrack, knowing each song by heart. You’ve made the coffee and helped him finish packing his suitcase, something he’s told you before he struggles with. Being an organized, neat person, you secretly love packing and tidying things up, so you’re thrilled to help him. Ben has joked about you being perfect for each other, your orderliness completing his messiness, and you’ve laughed, pretending to be chill about it, ignoring your accelerated heartbeat and the warmth spreading in your chest. He could ask you to marry him right then and there, and you’d accept immediately. You’re so done for, you think to yourself, rolling your eyes as you watch him slide his backpack on, wearing his usual cap and sunglasses.

You sing in the car, and he teases you when the song “Sexting” comes on, taking you back to the time you got drunk and sent it to him. You were embarrassed at first, blushing and hiding your face away, before owning it and deciding that it was unintentional sure, but a badass move nevertheless.

The ride to the airport goes fast, and you hold hands while you walk through LAX. You’re less skittish than before about public displays of affection, thinking that if the world must find out about your relationship, so be it. You’ve lost so much time before because of your insecurities, you’ve promised to yourself that you wouldn’t let anything get in the way from now on. Ben registers his bags, and you arrive at the security gates when he turns over and holds you tightly in his arms. You hug him back, feeling like your heart is getting crushed with a hammer, struggling with yourself not to cry.

“It’s four months”, you say against his chest, “We can do this”. He nods and cups your face with both hands, staring into your eyes.

“I’ll call you as soon as I land?” he asks, looking uncertain.

“Yes, please” you reply, oddly out of breath. You stare into his deep obsidian eyes, your hands resting at his hips, and he leans in to kiss you. You close your eyes, surrendering to the soft feelings of his lips moving against yours, silently wishing for time to stand still.

“All right, I have to go” he whispers against your lips, and you smile, nodding.

“I love you” you breathe, looking back into his eyes, and he grins, making your heart drop in your chest. How is it possible for a person to be that beautiful? This should be illegal, you think to yourself, frowning.

“I love you too, sweetheart” he replies, and he kisses you one more time before he lets go of you, squeezes your hand, and turns over to go through the gates.

You stand there for a few minutes, your heart pounding hard in your chest, the sounds of the airport muffled around you before you find the strength to go home.

III.

“You wanna do what?” Rebecca asks, looking puzzled.

“I’ve been in touch with actresses in London for a few weeks now, and I think that I should go meet them to try and win them over” you explain, straightening your back against your chair.

You’ve asked for a meeting with your boss this morning, eager to submit your plan to her. You’ve been thinking about it for a while, but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t accept the fact that Ben’s departure for London had been the incentive.

Although your agency is always looking for new talent, and you’re currently managing some of the hottest British talents in Hollywood, you know that they’d trust your judgement.

“Which actresses?” Rebecca asks, narrowing her eyes.

“Michaela Coel and Daisy Edgar Jones” you reply without breaking eye contact.

Rebecca arches her eyebrows, seeming impressed, before she purses her lips and turns a bit to glance out of the window.

“Honey, you know that you’re one of our most successful agents” she starts, and you brace yourself, knowing that a “but” is imminent.

“But I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed distracted lately” she adds, looking back at you.

You look away, crossing your legs, feeling uneasy. Yes. You can’t deny that.

“I know, I’m sorry” you reply honestly, knowing that lying wouldn’t take you anywhere.

“You know that I try and pay no mind to gossip” Rebecca says, the ghost of a smile dancing on her lips “But I couldn’t help but notice that ever since you dropped the Barnes account, you’ve been a little… elsewhere”, and she looks into your eyes, a kind expression on her face. You try not to blush, a warm feeling spreading over your chest, and you decide not to reply anything.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled for you” she says, still smiling “And Andrew was more than happy to take over as his agent.” You nod, not knowing where this is going.

Rebecca takes a breath and straightens her back before she leans against her desk, joining her hands.

“You were working too much before, anyway” she says, “But I’m wondering if taking new actors would be the right fit for you right now”.

“Oh.” You reply, taken aback. “I see.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d never say no to new clients, especially the ones you’ve approached. Promising, promising new talent, these two.” She says pensively, looking away.

“I know that I’ve been distracted lately” you start, wanting to be sincere “But I’m genuinely excited to meet them, and I know that I’d be the right fit for them”.

Rebecca glances back at you: “Are you sure? You already have a lot on your plate” she replies, seeming skeptical.

“Perhaps I just need fresh accounts” you venture, “Something new and exciting”.  

She stares at you for a moment, searching your expression.

“You know what” she starts “Go to London, try and broach them, and if you succeed, we’ll find a way to make this work” she proposes.

“Deal” you say, offering her your hand, and she shakes it.

“You’re going to London” she says gleefully.

“I’m going to London” you reply, smiling widely.

IV.

Ben was more than thrilled when you announced that you’d meet him in a month, impressed by your scheme. He told you that it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for him, and you had blushed and put your face in your hands, shaking your head.

“You don’t think that it’s stalky or creepy?” you had asked, watering your plants while you were talking to him on the phone.

“I mean, it totally is” Ben had laughed “But if it means that I get to see you, I don’t care” he added, and you hummed in agreement, distracted by the fact that you’d soon be in his arms, where you seemed to belong now.

December went fast, and you were glad that Ben was his family to celebrate Christmas. You’d fly two days before New Years Eve, and you’d meet Michaela on January second, and Daisy the next day. You’d spend a total of seven days with Ben, and you couldn’t wait.

You arrive Sunday morning in London, feeling tired and jetlagged, but seeing Ben’s face at the arrival gates fills you with more joy than you have ever experienced before. He joins you in quick strides and grips you tight, exhaling loudly and snaking his arms around your waist; raising you in the air like he had done months ago, before you had admitted your feelings to each other. You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him passionately, you heart threatening to jump out of your chest.

“God, I’ve missed you” he says against your lips, putting you back gently on the ground, his hands moving from your hips to your face.

“Tell me about it” you reply, out of breath, staring into his beautiful eyes.

“Ready to explore the city?” he asks, smiling widely.  “Or do you want to go back to my place and get some sleep?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

You think for a split second, blushing a bit “I mean… We’ll have time to chill later” you reply, “Let’s do some sightseeing” and you smile widely.

“Are you sure?” he asks, and he puts a strand of your hair behind your ear, looking down at you tenderly.

“I’m up for anything as long as I’m with you” you say, shrugging, and you know that the answer is beyond cheesy, but you’re unable to restrain yourself. He chuckles and gently pokes your nose with his, and you distinctively feel butterflies swarming in your stomach.

“First, an English breakfast” he says, and you wince, dreading the British food “Then, let’s be tourists” he says, and he kisses you gently. You sigh, melting under his touch. He’s worth enduring British food, for sure.

Ben takes you to the Naval Royal College in Greenwich, wanting to show you the Painted Hall. It’s known as the British Sistine Chapel, and he plays the tourist guide again, like he had done in Venice. You hold hands throughout the whole visit, stealing kisses and being amazed at his extensive knowledge of art history.

“Did you research all this to impress me again?” you ask, teasing him. Ben rolls his eyes, smiling.

“Of course, I did, what’d you expect?” he replies, kissing your cheek, and you giggle, endeared.

He shows you the Millennium Bridge, asking if you want to go inside St Paul’s cathedral, but you’re starting to feel a bit tired from all the walking and the flight.

“All right, one more place I want to show you, and then you’ll take a nap” he suggests, and you nod, reaching for his hand to hold. You walk for fifteen minutes when you reach a pretty street, and you enter what seems to be a park with a church in it. You frown, perplexed, when you finally see why he’d want to take you there. The church is in ruins, vegetation growing everywhere. It looks beautiful and romantic, and you understand why Ben wanted you to see it so badly. You walk among the ruins, gasping at the shady trees and the quietness of the place. It doesn’t seem like you’re in the heart of the busy city, the place looks magical with the sun setting in the distance.

“Oh, this is so pretty” you whisper, and Ben takes you to a bench for you to sit. He throws an arm around your shoulder, and he places a kiss on your temple.

“This place reminds me of you” he says quietly, and you look at him, surprised.

“How so?” you ask. He seems to ponder for a while before he replies.

“It makes me feel safe, quiet, like nothing else exists.” And his voice is soft, making your stomach clench. You blush, feeling overwhelmed. What did you do to deserve him again? This is crazy, you think to yourself, looking away, feeling crushed with too many emotions.

“What is it?” he asks, still gazing at you.

“I’m just tired” you reply, and you put your head on his shoulder, breathing deeply and closing your eyes.

“What’s our plan for New Year’s?” you ask, opening your eyes. Ben has teased you before that he had a plan but wanted to surprise you. You feel him chuckle and look up at him.

“I was thinking… It might be time for you to meet my parents” he says easily, and your heart stops in your chest. You look at him, your breath shallow, and Ben laughs at your expression, seeming satisfied with himself.

“It’ll be alright, Love” he says, caressing your hair. “I promise.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Heyyyy heyyyyy!!!! Look who’s updating after two months ?? It’s meeee.

Hope you like this part, it’s just pure fluff. I want them to be happy and to explore the next step of their relationship.

Tell me your thoughts and feelings about this ? It might inspire me to write part 11 !!

Byeee <3

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[alwaysmarveling]

Milestones

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of, but please let me know if you think I’m forgetting any!

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: You and Nat are starting a family. It’s challenging, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A/N: Welcome to the first series I’ve ever finished! I was a bit hesitant to publish this because, it being my first series, I’m not too sure how good it is and it does hold a special place in my heart, but if just one of you ends up liking it too, it’ll be worth it. This part is all fluff, but there will be angst in future parts. If you’re not a fan of that, this can just be read as a fluffy one-shot :) And big thanks to @vancityfire13 for talking this through with me, I really appreciate it <3

“He’s beautiful,” you sniffed, tears swelling in your eyes and spilling over the edge as they built up. Your wife squeezed your shoulder, and a drop landing just shy of your collarbone told you that she was crying too.

“He’s ours.” You cradled the baby boy—your baby boy—in your arms as he drank from your breast. “I still can’t believe they did it.” You let out a watery chuckle in response.

-

When Fury approached the two of you after he “accidentally” overheard your and Natasha’s conversation about having kids, you weren’t sure how to react. It was no secret among SHIELD that the two of you were together. In fact, you two had become somewhat of the organization’s power couple immediately after the many rumors claiming you were together were proven to be true. Still, the thought of all their best scientists working together just to give you two a biological child seemed a bit extreme, especially since the two of you did want to adopt someday. Nat, being the overprotective partner she was, was ready to launch herself at Fury, but you managed to pull her back before any real harm was done (Nat later got her revenge, and she made sure Fury didn’t tell you about it; she ended up confessing when you caught her looking just a bit too happy the next day though). The two of you had many long nights of talking over his offer, and before you knew it, you were pregnant with your first child, a child that would be biologically related to you and Natasha.

You guys had spent many nights talking about what your baby might look like, whether they’d have your laugh or her athleticism, your humor or her determination. Nat hoped they would be all you, while you could easily say the opposite.

When it came time to find out the baby’s sex, it took some serious convincing on Natasha’s part to get you to agree. In her mind, having a baby was surprise enough; she had to remind herself everyday that you really were pregnant with your child, her child. She did not need another surprise when the baby came. She wanted to be prepared, and who could blame her? You, on the other hand, wanted to wait. It was just the sex, after all. That didn’t change the preparations much. Nevertheless, after some bribery and more talking, you reluctantly agreed to learn the sex before the baby was born.

Hearing the words “it’s a boy” sent both of you into a tizzy. Nat wasn’t expecting it, and neither were you. Sure, there was a 50% chance of having a boy, but both of you were just so sure that it was a girl. After getting the doctor to check for the third time, you finally accepted that you were wrong.

Then came the discussion of names. What to name him, should he have a nickname, what would he call your friends and family?

One night, you took Natasha out for a walk around the park (this was before you got so big you couldn’t see your own feet) and a nice dinner on the waterfront. With the lights forming a halo around her already glowing face, you told her what you wanted the baby to be named: Igor. The minute you found the name, you knew it was perfect, and when you found out it was Russian and meant “warrior,” well, that was just icing on the cake.

“I’ve already got one Russian warrior who I love and adore more than words can express, and I can’t wait to have another. You’re everything I love and everything I want him to be. I think that’s what his name should be. And I know that, with a mom as perfect as you, he’ll live up to it.” You barely had time to get those last few words out before Natasha leaped over the table, silverware clinking and glasses wobbling as she lunged to pull your face into her hands, the two of you melting at the lips and forgetting about all the other patrons eating around you.

“I love you more than you know,” Natasha let out between breaths, finally letting you go.

“I have a feeling I do,” you giggled, “because I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.” You two “argued” about that for the rest of the night.

Then came the nursery. Nat insisted that you only be allowed to help in designing. You were already seven months along, she said, and that was seven too many. Plus, she pointed out with a not-so-subtle wink, she didn’t need help when she had “guns as big as these.” With some not-so-gentle persuasion from Clint, you settled on a farm-themed nursery. Less than a week later, Clint had gone out to god-knows-how-many stores and came back with more than enough decorations and furniture to fill the baby’s room, the many leftovers spilling out into the hallways and even your bedroom (much to his dismay, you made him return more than half of what he bought). The nursery was completed within weeks, and then all the two of you had to do was wait for your little bundle of joy to arrive.

-

Insistent ringing from Natasha’s phone pulled the two of you out of your peaceful moment.

“It’s Fury,” Natasha huffed playfully. “He’s asking if ‘the gross part is over yet.’ You ready to show him off to the world?”

“My world is all right here,” you murmured, fully sincere in what you were saying.

“As is mine.” The redhead’s finger lifted your chin up, your gaze shifting from your little boy to the prettiest woman in the universe. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I tell myself that every day,” you smiled, meeting her lips in a sweet kiss.

---

“Nat! Come quick! Hurry! I think he’s going to do it!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” your wife responded with equal urgency. “You going to do it, Igoryok? You going to walk for Mamas?” The baby boy giggled, nothing but pure glee on his face as he pushed himself to stand. You held out your arms to your son, cooing words of encouragement as he stumbled his way towards you. He started maybe only four feet away, but when he finally made it to you, you swung him into the air and you and Nat cheered like he had just finished first in the 400 metres at the Olympics. You could’ve sworn your life couldn’t get any better than it was at that point, safe, happy, and healthy with the two people you loved most in the world right by your side.

“Did you get it on video, Natty?”

“Of course, malyshka. Such a big milestone needs to be kept forever, isn’t that right, Igoryok?” Igor laughed when the redhead reached over and tickled him just under his chin. The two of you soon joined in, his joyous giggles impossible to resist.

-

“You’re an amazing mother,” Nat murmured to you that night as the two of you laid in bed. “And you’re raising an amazing son. I love you.” She tilted her head down to meet your lips.

“I love you too, Nat, but you’re also raising an amazing son. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.” She nodded slowly, reluctantly. “What is it?”

“I just… Being here today with you and Igor, it was perfect. Everything was perfect. And I hate how I have to throw us out of that every time I leave.” You frowned as you turned onto your stomach, pushing yourself up on one arm and using the other hand to cup Nat’s face.

“You’re not the only one working, you know. I feel that way too, every time I have to go on a mission or even just leave for the office.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But I’m gone so much more often than you are. Especially now that you’ve switched to mostly training others.”

“Just because you’re not here all the time doesn’t make you a bad mom, Tash. You’re the best mom because you love him with all of your heart and you’ll do anything for him. And-“

“I want to retire.”

“What?” Out of all the things that could’ve come out of Nat’s mouth, that was not the one you were expecting or prepared for.

“I wanna be there when he says his first words and when he loses his first tooth and when he goes to school for the first time. I want to be here.”

“But… you love your job.”

“I know,” she whispered, her eyes shining. “But I love Igor more.”

“And Igor will know that. Igor already knows that. Sweetheart, part of doing anything for Igor includes protecting him from bad guys. You do that every day you go to work. You show him you love him by fighting to give him the best life possible. If you want to retire,” your hand finally slid down from her cheek to hold her hand, “then I will support you every step of the way. But if you’re doing this because you think you’re a bad mother if you don’t, then you need to know that that is not true at all.” Natasha bit her lip as she thought over what you said. You gave her the time she needed, rubbing small circles into the back of her hand.

You would be lying if you said you never had those same thoughts. Both of you felt awful every time you had to hand Igor over to one of the nanny or even one of the Avengers or their families. The two of you loved them and Igor loved them, and they always took amazing care of him, but it was hard to not feel bad knowing your child wanted nothing more than to be in your arms. The first time Igor wailed as you handed him over to Laura, you filled out all the retirement paperwork the next day, keeping it on your desk for weeks before you eventually talked yourself out of it.

Just as Natasha was opening her mouth to respond, she was interrupted by Igor’s cries from the baby monitor.

“I’ll get him,” your wife reassured you. You nodded reluctantly, not wanting to stop the conversation but knowing you’d have to regardless of who left.

---

“Guess who’s coming home today, buddy?” Igor babbled random syllables back at you, grabbing onto your hair as you lifted him out of his crib. “Gentle, Igor, gentle,” you winced, slowly pulling his hands away from your locks. Sounds from downstairs had you looking away from Igor and towards the hallway.

“That must be Mama!” You weren’t too sure if he understood you, but he definitely fed off of your excitement, letting out another string of syllables and clapping his hands together.

“Hellooo! Anybody home?” Natasha’s red hair was the first thing you saw as you rounded the corner to see the front door. “Hi, rybka! How are you doing?” Your boy held his hands out to Natasha, obviously excited to see her. She grinned back at the two of you, but both of your eyes grew wide when he opened his mouth.

“Mama!” With that one word, you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating. Nat’s eyes met yours, the love she felt for you and your son overflowing in the form of crystal droplets that filled her green orbs.

“That’s right, Igor, Mama. Can you give Mama a kiss?” You smiled as you handed Igor to Nat, your little boy puckering his lips dramatically to plant a wet kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you, Igoryok,” the redhead laughed. “He said ‘Mama,’ Y/N. His first word! He called me ‘mama.’” She was smiling so hard her cheeks were practically trembling.

“Because you are his mama. The best mama in the whole wide world,” you murmured, kissing her other cheek.

“No one could ever be as good as you. I love you so much, malyshka.”

“I love you too.”

“Mama!” The two of you laughed once again, your intimate moment interrupted but neither of you could complain.

“How was the mission?” you asked, both of you somewhat preoccupied with the bouncing babe in Nat’s arms.

“Good. Clean.”

“No injuries?”

“Not even a bruise.” You scanned her face and body to see if she was lying, and eventually nodded once you were satisfied.

“Good. Now, I believe it is someone’s dinner time.”

---

“Hi, Igoryok, how was school?”

“Hi, Mama. It was good. We learned about the letter ‘m’ today. Mama, did you know ‘m’ goes ‘mm’?”

“It does? I thought it sounded different.”

“No, Mama, you’re silly. Your name starts with an ‘m.’”

“Huh, I think you’re right. Did you know that, babe? Mama starts with an ‘m,’” Natasha winked at you.

“No, I didn’t know that, but thank you for sharing that with me,” you smiled back. “You're not going to say hi to me, Iggy?”

“Hi, Mom. Your name starts with ‘m’ too.” Igor bent over the center console in between the two of you. “Can we get ice cream? Please?” Your wife laughed before turning to you.

“I’m not too sure what that has to do with letters, but what do you say, Mom?” Nat asked, a smirk on her face as she emphasized the first letter.

“Um, it does because…” The two of you watched, amused, as Igor’s face scrunched up in concentration. Suddenly, he lit up, a grin overtaking his expression. “It does because ice cream starts with an “i”! And my name starts with an “i” too, Mamas. Which means I should get some ice cream.” He paused for a moment upon seeing the two of you glance at him expectantly. “Please?”

“You’re very right, Ig,” you smiled. “And for that, we can go get ice cream. But I thought you would’ve wanted to go to the park. We brought your bike.”

“You did?” His baby-tooth grin only grew when he turned to see the lime green metal and black handlebars peeking out of the trunk. “Yes! Mama, c’mon, let’s go!”

“You need to buckle up, Igoryok, or we’re not going anywhere.” The four-year-old rushed to his car seat. The minute he was settled, he began squirming again.

“Can we still get ice cream after?”

“Sure, Iggy,” you laughed. Nat removed her right hand from the steering wheel and rested it on your thigh.

“Alright, let’s go.”

-

“Mama, you took the training wheels off, right?”

“Yep,” your wife grunted, lifting the bike out of the car and placing it on the pavement.

“Mom, watch me! I’m going to ride it all by myself! Today’s the day, I can feel it!” You managed to grab him by the shoulders just before he could hop on the bike.

“Not so fast, what are you forgetting, buddy?”

“Uh, a positive attitude?”

“That’s important, but I think you have plenty of that right now,” you smiled. “Try again.” Igor bit his lip as he thought about what he could possibly be missing.

“I love you?”

“I love you too, but still not it. You remember this?” He groaned when he saw the helmet in your hands.

“I don’t need it, Mom. I won’t fall, I promise!”

“I like that promise, but I still need you to promise to wear this. Okay?”

“But I don’t want to,” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. Your wife bent down to reach Igor’s eye level.

“Igoryok, can I tell you a secret?” Igor’s tresses bounced as he turned his gaze to Nat, his eyes filled with skepticism. “Well, you know how Mama wears her helmet whenever she goes out on her bike? You wanna know why I do it?”

“Why?” he asked, his skepticism fading into intrigue.

“It helps me balance and makes me go faster. I can’t ride as well as I do without it. In fact, I think I might even fall off.”

“Really? But you’re so good, Mama!” Eyes closed, Nat shook her head.

“Only with my helmet. And only when I wear it correctly. Otherwise I’d fall right off and get hurt. So can you promise to wear your helmet correctly so that you go faster and don’t fall off?”

“Okay, Mama. Can you put it on for me though? I think you’ll do it better.”

“I’d love to, Igoryok.” You flashed Nat a grateful smile as she took the helmet from you to secure it on his head. “Alright, all set. You go get warmed up, yeah?”

“Okay, Mama, but hurry up!”

“I’ll be there in a second, rybka.” Natasha stood up and wrapped an arm around your waist. “Don’t let him see me riding the motorcycle when I’m on a mission.” You stifled a laugh, letting your head rest on her shoulder as you watched Igor waddle around on his bike, his sneakers lighting up every time they hit the pavement.

“I’ll try my best. Have I told you how good of a mother you are?”

“Yes, you have. Multiple times.” You didn’t have to look at Nat to know her cheeks were quickly becoming the same shade as her hair. “I just hope he’ll be this easy to convince when he’s not four.”

“We’ll, uh, cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides, it’s a little easier to convince him when he sees you as his hero.”

“Stop with the flattery,” the spy groaned, now extremely flustered.

“But you make it so easy. And so fun.” You squealed immediately after the last word and pulled yourself away from your wife. “Why’d you poke me?”

“Don’t act all innocent, you know exactly what you did.”

“I’m not acting innocent, I am innocent.”

“Are you now?” Natasha stalked towards you, a smirk on her lips and a mischievous glint in her eye. Before she could reach you, though, Igor pushed his way in between the two of you with his bike.

“C’mon, Mama! I warmed up!” With one last glance at you, Natasha sighed.

“Alright, let’s go, Igoryok. You just watch your back, babe. I’ll get you.”

“Ooo, Mom’s in troubleee,” Igor chanted, and with that, they were off.

-

“Mom! Look at me! I’m going to get it on this one, I can feel it!”

“I’m watching!” you promised despite having never taken your eyes off of Igor and Natasha the whole time. Igor flashed you a grin in response before putting his feet on the pedals. Natasha murmured something in his ear as he started pedaling. She had one hand on the handlebars and one on his back to keep him steady. The pair moved together for a few seconds until Igor began to speed up. Half-running, half-jogging, your wife finally let go of the bike with a firm push to your son’s back, and much to everyone’s delight, he kept going.

“Mom! I’m doing it! I’m really doing it!”

“Pay attention to what’s in front of you, Igoryok!” Natasha called when he began to swerve. Eyes wide, Igor managed to correct himself before he crashed into a tree. You got up from the bench and ran to meet the former assassin, but you kept your eyes on Igor the whole time.

“I guess this family has two biker babes now.”

“I guess we do. Look at him go, malyshka.” Her chest was puffed out, obviously proud of her son, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly as he concentrated on turning around. Your eyes shot open when it seemed like he was going to fall, but he regained his balance and increased his speed twofold on his return to you. “Maybe we should try for another.”

“What?”

“Another, uh, what’d you call it? A biker babe?” Natasha barked out a laugh as you moved to slap her shoulder. “I mean, Igor’s been asking for a sibling for a while now. Maybe it’s time.” Natasha maintained her glance on your son, too nervous to meet your eyes.

“Another biker babe, huh? Or maybe another little fish?”

“Another rybka, yes,” Nat chuckled.

“Maybe it is time.” The former assassin’s shoulders relaxed as you slipped your hand into hers. “A girl this time?”

“We’ll see. It is what Igor’s been asking for, but...” A smirk played on your wife’s face as she remembered when you two first learned you’d be having a son.

“Natasha Jr.?”

“Oh god, no!” your wife laughed.

“Natalia? Natalie?” Natasha buried her face in your neck so that her lips were pressed to your shoulder. She still peeked out slightly to keep an eye on your son.

“Babe, we are not naming the baby after me.”

“What about for her middle name?” Your wife groaned as she hit your arm, but you could feel her lips curving upward.

“No.” Natasha paused, her lower lip stuck between her teeth. “What do you think about Karolina? It means ‘free man.’”

“Karolina,” you repeated. You would’ve teased her about already having a name picked out, but the constant shifting of her right foot told you this maybe wasn’t the right time. “I like it.”

With Igor quickly approaching, you ended the conversation with a peck to Nat’s cheek and bent down to greet your son. When he made it to the two of you, he immediately hopped off of the bike and ran into your open arms.

“I did it, Mom! Did you see me? I turned around too!”

“I did, Iggy! You did so, so good!” You pulled the boy onto your hip. “Don’t tell Mama, but I think you might’ve gone even faster than her.” Igor giggled, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“You think so?” he whispered.

“I know so.”

“Ahem, what are you two saying?” Nat had her hands on her hips as her foot tapped the ground, this time out of fake anger rather than nerves.

“Nothing, Mama. Did you see me? I did good, right? And my helmet helped me stay on!”

“I’m very proud of you, Igoryok. Both Mom and I are,” she murmured, tilting her head to avoid the helmet and kiss his cheek. “So now that you know your helmet is good, you have to promise us to wear it whenever you go on your bike, you got it?”

“Got it.” His locks bounced as he nodded his head. “I’m going to go again, okay, Mamas? And then later we can get ice cream?”

“You got it, bud.” You let him down, his legs wiggling before he reached the ground. The second he hit the surface, he was off.

---

You cherished every time you got to see Igor hit a milestone. You and Nat had each missed some—like you being away the day he scored his first soccer goal or Nat going on a mission during his first Halloween—but when you did, the other made sure to talk about it in so much detail you felt like you were there.

And when you were all there together… Your heart filled with pride whenever Igor did something new, but that feeling was nothing in comparison to seeing your son’s pride in himself and having Nat there next to you to experience it. Each milestone of Igor’s was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined because, with each one, you got to see your little boy growing, thriving. For each new accomplishment, you could feel the love between the three of you, practically pull it out of the air, make a cocoon out of it, and wrap yourself in it for weeks on end. Your little boy’s milestones weren’t just for himself, but it was for your family as a whole, the three of you growing closer and stronger with each step. You couldn’t wait to see what he would do next.

-----

Read Chapter 2 here

[atinydise]

Ateez reacting to their s/o crying in front of them for the first time

❦ Genre: Fluff, a little bit angsty.

❦ Pairing: OT8.

❦ Word count: 3K4.

❦ Requested: Yes, thank you! 🦋

HONGJOONG

It had been 2 weeks since you had nonstop these hating comments on every social media. Your friend and Hongjoong warned you that the beginning will be hard, but you never imagine it would be like this. Before sleeping, you did your best to delete most of the meanest comments because you didn't want Hongjoong to be upset. To reassure yourself, you were telling every day that it would stop someday, but you were wrong. It was worse the next days. Just to enjoy your boyfriend's presence, you went to his studio. He would be busy, but his presence was enough for you. That's the only thing you wanted right now.As he was adding another beat on his production, you were deleting the comments again. Every time you tried to suppress one, another one came up. It overwhelmed you more than you imagined.

"I'm almost done babe! After that we can go watch our movie." Said Hongjoong, turning his chair around. His heart missed a beat when he saw tears sliding from your red eyes. His smile faded quickly. Your boyfriend immediately stood up and kneeled just next to you. "What's wrong? Did you hurt yourself?" Of course, when you heard that, you busted in tears, sobbing crazily. Hongjoong was shocked and confused to see you crying like this. In fact, he never seen you crying. "Y/N, look at me." He whispered, holding your hand. Despite your blurry vision, you stared right at him. "What's wrong?" He repeated. "What's ruining my usual sunshine's mood?" You took your time to explain the situation; that you are wasting your time on deleting a thousand of comments per day. You added that reading them, made your feel really insecure. "It's really hard Jong..." you sobbed, your lips shaking. "I'm sorry that you went through all of this, alone." He lifted himself a bit to hug your little figure. Face buried on his hoodie, you just gave it up and cried again. "The company is protecting me, but no one does it for you. I’ve failed." He patted your back, trying to comfort you as he could. "I'm really sorry Y/N." He whispered. You stayed at least 15 minutes in his arms, gripping the hem of his hoodie like your life depended on it. Hearing you being so sad made Hongjoong realize how much you suffered and kept everything for yourself. "You won't be alone anymore. We are going to find the perfect solution, so you won't get hurt once again. Okay?" You nodded, making him slid his hand on the back of your head to keep you closer. "Everything will be okay love." You ignored if it was your boyfriend's warm presence or the tears you finally let out, but you felt so much lighter.

SEONGHWA

"Okay babe. Are you ready?" Asked Seonghwa, face buried behind a history book. "I think I should study a bit more." You replied. "But you've done this the whole week. I'm sure you are ready." He smiled. Not sure of yourself, you shrugged. "Let's give it a try then." The next week, you needed to pass the most important exam of your entire life. Compared to an "idol life", it's like the last audition which will determine if you can debut or not. The one you are not supposed to fail. That's why you set and organized a complete and strict revisions schedule since these past weeks. To be honest, it had been pretty intense, and you were pretty exhausted now. "So, first question from when lasted the 2nd World War?" "1940 to 1945?" You replied not sure of yourself. "1939 to 1945." Rectified Seonghwa. Good. 1st question and already one mistake. "Next one: in which year did the USA joined the WII?" You knew this date; you had an entire sheet on it. So why the answer wouldn't come out? "19-" you paused, thinking hard about the answer. "Y/N, we studied together this date and this chapter." Said Seonghwa, trying to help you. Mad at yourself, you closed your notebook and buried your head in your arms. "Y/N-" "I don't remember!" Your voice cracked and your shoulders started to shake. "I'm useless and stupid!" Seonghwa was surprised to see you like this. You were not the type of person to cry. In 1 year and a half of relationship, he never saw you cry. "Just let me fail this exam!" You sobbed, tears dripping o the blue ink of your notebook. "Y/N. You are one of the smartest people I know." Whispered your boyfriend resting his head just next to yours. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders. "You just worked and studied so much these weeks that your brain needs a break." "I have so many chapters and topics to learn." You sniffled, lifting up a bit, but to hide your face behind your hand. "You are having a mental breakdown babe. Just take a break you won't fail." Seonghwa's voice was affecting you in the right way. You could feel yourself calming a bit, but the stress was always there. "Let's watch TV for the rest of the night so tomorrow you can focus back on your task." "But I need to study." You wiped your tears with your shirt. "If you continue today, you won't remember anything tomorrow. That's what you want?" You shook your head. "Good. Then let's go watch a movie. I'll order a pizza." "Thank you." You whispered, still sniffling.

YUNHO

You had a pretty mad argument with a close friend. You couldn't even call her this way because what she did was wrong. In a short resume, she hangs out with your other friend's crush. The worst part was that she never apologized or realized that her actions were bad and could hurt someone else. So, since this day, you've been pretty alone. The trio you formed with your friend was over. Nobody talked on the group chat like you usually do. Your girl trip was cancelled, and you had no choice but to accept it and cancel all the reservations you've done. It could be childish and ridiculous to be sad over a friendship but it as a particular one for you. They were the first ones to talk to you when you arrived in Korea. The language barrier never had been an issue. Thanks to them you improved more than you could imagine. When you had an argument with Yunho, they were the first ones to get you out, just to change your mind. How could a good friendship finish so badly? "Y/N? Are you listening to me?" Asked Yunho, sitting on the couch next to you. "Huh sorry, I was deep in my thoughts." You smiled shyly. "It is because of-" started Yunho. "Don't." You stopped him straight. "Don't pronounce their names." Your boyfriend was staring at you. He never thought it would affect you so much. "I tried my best to stay strong," you sighed. "But i can't lie to you. This is pretty hard." "Babe..." "I've been with them for so long. A bit like you and the guys." You smiled sadly, thinking about the old and good times. "They were my family here, in South Korea. Yunho was looking at the decomposition of your face. You were completely devastated. "I miss them so much." You finally let out, head bending, and eyes closed to avoid tears to fall. "I'm sure it will be fixed soon." Whispered Yunho, ignoring what to do. A light laugh escaped your lips. "Nothing will be the same, and it's better if we stay apart." Your boyfriend was secretly thinking the same thing. It was a pretty good issue. He left his thoughts when you whined of sadness before sniffling for the third time. What to do? What do you need? He never saw you like that. You always said that you hated to cry. It makes you feel weak. "Do you want a hot chocolate? I know you like." He offered. "If you don't mind, I really need a hug right now." You stared at him; face completely wet. "Yes of course." He didn't hesitate and pulled you closer to him. He assumed that you felt better because you cried a bit more. Losing friends can be really painful sometimes. Yunho hoped that you would be okay. He would be there every time you need someone to talk with. However, at the same time he hoped to never see you crying again. That was too painful for him to look at your usual bright face, changing into a sad one.

YEOSANG

Yeosang's phone buzzed on his pocket. He stared at the clock hanging on the wall. 11 PM. By that, he guessed that you were calling him because you missed him. Without waiting any longer, he sat down on the floor and picked up. ["Hello!] You waved at the screen. ["Hey boo! What's up?"] He asked, fixing his hair at the same time. ["I miss you."] You pouted. ["It's been pretty hard to catch up these times."] Yeosang's scratched his nape, nervously. ["Yeah... We've been busy 24/7. I can't tell when the last time was, I had enough time for myself."] ["Keep some time for you. It's important."] You replied, looking at his little dark circles. ["I will try to-"] ["Hello Y/N!"] Waved San, appearing on the screen. ["It's daytime for you?] You smiled at him. He was always so energized. ["Hello San! And yeah, it's 3PM here."] ["Can you let me talk to my girl in peace? I can't do it often already!"] Scolded Yeosang gently, flickering San's forehead. At this comment, you felt all the emotions and feelings you kept during these 7 months, submerging you. Before you could realize it, a tear escape of your eye, followed by another one. ["Yeah yeah! Leave us alone!"] he pushed San out of the screen. ["So, what you- Y/N? Are you crying?"] His face approched the screen phone really fast. ["Oh!"] You said, surprised. ["I didn't even notice."] You chuckled sniffling. ["What's wrong. It's the first time I see you crying."] Asked Yeosang, worried something bad happened. ["Nothing. This week had just been stressful, and I really miss you."] You looked up to suppress the other tears to come. ["We are going yo see each other soon I promise."] He said, feeling mad to be so far away from you. ["Sorry, I didn't plan to cry like a baby 'in front' of you."] You air quoted. ["It's just so hard Yeosang."] Your voice cracked, causing your boyfriend to feel sorry. ["I promise we will see each other faster than what you think."] You nodded, still avoiding looking at him. ["Don't cry Y/N. I hate seeing you like this."] He sighed. Forbidden you to cry made you do it even more. You put down the phone so he could only see your ceiling. ["It's okay. I'll calm down."] You said between 2 sobs. Yeosng was staring at the phone, hoping to see your smile back. ["I want to see you."] ["I look terrible."] You positioned the phone back, wiping the bottom of your eyes. ["No. You look like Frankenstein’s wife."] He teased you. ["So, you are Frankenstein?"] You giggled. ["Ouch, you got me."] You laughed at his disbelieving face. Yeosang was the only one who could make you cry, and in the next minute, make you laugh crazily.

SAN (⚠️this one can be a little bit triggering since it’s mentioning the lockdown)

"Finally! Some time for myself!" Claimed San, holding your hand tighter. "Since a long time, he had or find an empty time on his schedule and rushed to spend time with you. San invited you at the restaurant and for a quick walk before heading back to the dorm. No matter how hard you tried to stay focus on your boyfriend and the conversation, you zoned out time to time. San ignored what was bothering you. The lockdown had been pretty hard for you and your mental health. You lost your self-esteem and didn't find anymore any good compliments for yourself. For several months, you documented yourself to find something which could lift your mood. Most of the time, you spent your day on TikTok, but it messed up more than it should. Thanks to San, he was the only one who avoided you to end depressed completely. He still ignored that you were going through a lot. You always acted like everything was totally fine. "I can't believe we are already in February." He looked at the stars. "Yeah." You smiled. "Time flies." "It's been almost 2 years that I've met you too!" He giggled. "I'm so lucky. Many girls would have run away with an idol as boyfriend." He started. "But not you! You are still here. The rock of our couple." More he was talking; more you were realizing that you were not that strong anymore. "I'm really lucky!" He repeated, kissing your hand lovely. You didn't have enough time to suppress the sob coming from your throat. You slapped your free hand on your mouth, even if you couldn't know if you were really crying, tears felt right on your fingers. "Y/N? Are you-" he stopped, realizing how stupid the question was? "What's happening baby?" The soft tone he used to talk, made you bust in cry a lot more. "Wow wow! Y/N, what is going on?" He asked, completely worried. You hesitated to tell him what was going on, but you couldn't let him with no information. "I'm just so done." You started. "So tired, so sad, so depressed, every fucking day." "Why?" You shrugged, picking a tissue of your pocket. "I don't know. I just feel like that. I want to be happy and strong again, but I'm always overthinking. It makes me doubt on everything." San pulled you in a warm and safe hug. He ribbed the back of your head to comfort you. "Don't worry. I will help you to pass this hard period." He whispered. "I really don't know what is going on with me and I don't like that." You added, tugging on his hoodie. "It's okay. Everyone goes through difficult moment. But I’m here to help you. I will give you everything."

MINGI

Mingi got out of the sleeping state when he heard a sniffle. At first, he thought that he was dreaming. Even though his dream was completely crazy, no one was crying. He just let it out and tried to sleep completely. Until he heard another sniffling. This time Mingi cracked an eye. The room was plunged in the dark. Exactly like how he fell asleep. "Did you catch a cold?" Asked Mingi, with his deepest voice. No answer, but still the sniffling could be heard. "Y/N." He repeated a bit louder. His body was still facing the window so he couldn't see you. No answer. Mingi thought that you were deep in the sleep to not hear him. So, he sneaked his arm under the sheet to squeeze your leg. "Get up and take a medicine at least, bec-" He stopped when he had nothing to squeeze. Finally, he sat up and looked at your usual spot. Empty. The sheet was cold. So, you were probably awake since a long time. Mingi walked to the hallway, looking for any light or any shadow hid in the dark. When he saw the one coming from the bathroom, he rushed there. Without knocking, he entered making you jump by surprise. "What are you doing here? It's late!" He raised a brow. Feeling the tears coming back, you hid your face behind your hands. Mingi's face softened immediately. He turned you around, so you could look at him. Just by seeing you crying, he understood what was going on. "You saw the article?" He whispered. You nodded, your shoulders shaking at each sob, like a baby. "You should have told me that it made you sad." He pulled you in a warm hug, trying to comfort you. "How? We made a deal." You wrapped your arms around his waist. "This deal sucks if you end by crying like that." He kissed your forehead. "I just wanted to protect you from every crazy fans. But I had no idea, people would start assuming that I'm dating the entire world." "It's not your fault." You sobbed. "I accepted to hide our relationship too." "I'm going to fix it Y/N." Claimed Mingi. "I hate saying you like that. I've never seen you crying yet." You smiled shyly at him. He wasn't the best man on this earth, he barely knew how to comfort you, but he has this strong and safe aura. It was everything that matters. "Stop crying please. I hate that." He pouted. You wiped your eyes quickly and gave him a warm smile. "Thank you Mingi."

WOOYOUNG

You were sitting on the dance practice's couch, looking at your boyfriend and San joking around. It was not a big deal. The atmosphere was really good, and everyone was in the right mod. Except you. Why? Because you had a secret interview with the CEO and the group manager. They made you understand that your relationship with Wooyoung was prohibited. It's been 3 years that you were dating, and they never had a problem. Until the group gain more and more attention and that journalist were following them around. One of them already threatened KQ to reveal an article few days before the comeback, just to ruin it. That's why, while the group was singing and dancing along, you were slowly getting sadder. To not ruin the mood, you got up and exited the room. The more natural possible. Even though you thought that nobody spotted your sudden sadness, Seonghwa noticed that something was wrong. And since you put a foot in the room. "Wooyoung." "Yeah?" "You should check after Y/N. I feel like something is off." He said. "She just probably went to restroom." He shrugged. "No, something is really wrong." Insisted Seonghwa. Without saying anything, Wooyoung rushed out of the room. He didn't last long to find you. His heart missed a beat when he saw your face. Tears were storming on your cheeks. Your nose was running, and your entire body was shaking also. He stayed there, without moving at all. Wooyoung never saw you this way and he was completely freaking out. His brain finally functioned again when you started to choke, hands on your chest. "Babe babe! Calm down." He kneeled in front of you, embracing you as much as he could. "I'm here. Calm down." He repeated. You gripped the back of his shirt, still completely devastated. Wooyoung rubbed the back of your head. Your face as buried on the crook of his neck. "Baby. Breathe." He whispered. Your boyfriend never asked once why you were crying. He stayed 30 minutes, in the same position, waiting for you to finally calm down. The most important think was you to be 100% ready to talk about it. "No matter what, I'm here." You are not alone."

JONGHO

The room was plunged in the dark. A light flame coming from the center of the table was lighting things around you. It been 2 hours that you were sitting there. Your eyes were locked o the big window, which is usually help the moon reflection to enter in the apartment. Your entire house was quiet. But you were annoyed by the loud noise coming from your mind thoughts. Jongho has left since this afternoon. Just after, probably one of the biggest argue you ever had. "Oh, you are so annoying! You know what? I'm leaving." This sentence was stuck in your throat. Jongho was really mad this time and was probably not ready to forgive you. Your head lifted up when you heard footsteps in the hallway. You prayed and hoped that your fiancé was coming back home. But few seconds later, the neighbor's door slammed and resonated in your ears. At the edge of a mental breakdown, your lips started to shake, and your eyes were getting itchy because of the tears forming in your eyes. Quickly, a sob escaped of your lips. Followed by another one. Before you could realize it, you busted in tears, crying loudly. All of your fear and pain stuck in your head, made you cry. Your dog, not understanding the situation, put his head on your lap, trying to comfort you. "Y/N!" Your heart missed a bit when you heard Jongho's voice. For a short second, you thought that you were dreaming. But your boyfriend was really standing there, hands full of your favorite restaurant food. In no time, you gently pushed your dog and rushed to Jongho. Arms wrapped around his waist, you felt like living again. He couldn't answer to your hug or otherwise he would drop the food, but you felt like his warm aura around you. "Ah," he smiled. "I might have been a little bit too harsh with you. It's the first time I see you crying." "You are dumb." You sobbed, still wrapped around him. I really thought you left." "Aye, come on. I can never do that." Probably because of the relief, you cried even more. "You are acting like a strong and independent woman but here you are, sobbing like a baby." He kissed your head. "I hate you." You replied. "Yeah. I love you too." He giggled.

[eirikaanemo]

Venti falls in love with an Inazuman rebel. The rebel has no vision, but what they do have is a belief that everyone has an inherent right to live freely. How does Venti know about this rebel in the first place? I honestly have no idea...

Visionless Visionary

Venti x GN!Reader

1.8k Words

Warning: Minor character death mentioned, prayer (if that bothers you)

Disclaimer: I knew next to nothing about Baal when I wrote this, so it may not be an accurate representation of her character.

Inazuma is a mess. That is just a fact now. Baal has suddenly become violent and a danger to her people. So many had done nothing but hold a vision she had bestowed upon them in the first place. And because of that, she struck your cousin down. You can still remember the thump of his lifeless body hitting the ground and the steady tap, tap, tap of Baal’s shoes as she walked away.

She seemed completely unaffected by her actions. You were anything but. The scene played over and over in your nightmares for weeks, and continues to haunt you. So when the rebellion reached out to you for support you were happy to assist. You found out he had just joined their ranks and that’s why he had been targeted.

However, you don’t have a vision so there’s only so much you can do. Of course they always welcome financial support and you gave it to the best of your ability. But you knew there had to be more you could do. So you spoke to some people and it was agreed that you would go to Mondstadt and position Barbatos for his support for your cause.

He hadn’t been seen in centuries, but he was the god of freedom, right? If anyone could help them, it would be him. So with the rebellion’s blessing you took your savings and made the long journey to Mondstadt.

Finding lodging was fairly easy. The people of Mondstadt were more than willing to help you. Especially once they found out what you were there to do. ‘Such a great and admirable cause,’ they said. ‘May Barbatos bless you!’ And all you could do was hope he did.

You prayed every morning and every night for help for your people. The heavens seemed quiet, but you didn’t let that dissuade you. Surely your sheer persistence would make a difference, you reasoned. And so you kept on.

One night, rather early on, you ran into a bard not long after your evening prayer. He had been not too far from the statue and you were captivated by the beauty of the song he played. It was ancient Inazuman and for just a moment you were able to forget and be caught up in the memories of better days.

When the song ended you were disappointed and tried not to pout. Judging from the laugh the bard let out when he saw you, it must have still shown on your face. “Did you like the song?” He asks. “I know I didn’t play for long. Would you like to hear another?”

“I would love to,” you admit. He smiles and simply starts on another song, this one also of Inazuma origin. From there he transitions into a more Mondstadtian style, singing The Ballad of Freedom. You know it well, as it’s a favorite of many of the rebels. As the last note fades he turns back to you.

“What brings you here, I wonder. Has it to do with your country being torn asunder?” He inquires.

“Yes,” you reply. “I’ve come to ask Lord Barbatos for his assistance in our cause. We fight for freedom from Baal, who has become nothing but a tyrant. As for me personally, well, she killed my cousin right in front of me. Her only reasons being the vision she bestowed upon him herself not many years ago and his belief that what she was doing was wrong. No one should have to suffer that.”

“Indeed, it seems you have a need. Your cause is just and swords you thrust. But the archons don’t just help everyone, so prove to him you’re worthy of some.”

“But how do I do that?” You question the cryptic bard.

“You’ll see in time, dear friend of mine!” He winks and you find your face warming. “Though I have a question if you don’t mind. Is the assistance you’re seeking a vision like mine?” He taps the glowing turquoise vision sitting on his belt by his hip.

“No,” you shake your head. “After what happened to my cousin, I’m not sure I’d be comfortable with a vision. For me they’ve been nothing but trouble.” He nods in understanding.

“I see how that would be. I must take my leave for now, we’ll see each other later anyhow.” And he’s off into the night.

He’s right that this is far from the last time you see him. And he’s right that you start noticing the tests that Barbatos has set before you. More and more people seek your help in one thing or another, especially since the one they call “honorary knight” left to Liyue. There’s much to do, but you’re happy to help them.

Eventually you stop helping them because it’s a test and start helping them because you want to; because it’s the right thing to do. You help Lisa organize the library. You help Barbara clean the cathedral. You help Amber keep watch. You help Venti with his performances from time to time. You stand in for Diluc’s barkeep while he recovers from an illness.

Days and days have passed and your relationship with Venti grows and grows. You notice more and more things about him that you rather like. His laugh. His eyes. His hands. His music. His sense of humor. His optimism.

Really, everything about him is amazing. You try to deny it at first. But you know deep down that you’re falling in love. And you’re seeing some hints that he might be too. Lots of them, because he’s started flirting with you almost constantly.

However, as your relationship grows, your hope dwindles. It’s been weeks! You’ve helped so many people and have prayed so many times. And yet you have not received an answer. Not even an acknowledgement that he has heard.

When you express your concern and discouragement to Venti, he is very concerned. “I’m just not sure how much longer I can stay,” you explain. “While I would hate to return empty handed, I can’t stay here forever.”

“Try just one more time, for me?” he asked you, looking a little guilty despite not having reason to be. It’s not like he was keeping Barbatos from speaking with you. As if he could sense your hesitance he sweetened the deal. “If you do, I’ll give you a kiss!” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and flashed you a mischievous smile and you felt a warm blush bloom on your face.

“Alright,” you grumble good-naturedly. “I’ll try one more time.” His resulting cheer and more cheery smile were nearly enough to have made you do it by themselves.

That night you approached his statue, feeling unreasonably nervous compared to the nights before. “Lord Barbatos,” you prayed. “I seek thy assistance for my people’s cause. We seek the freedom thou dost represent. Someday may we all be free to live our lives reasonably, but as we please. This is my vision, my hope. Please, if it be thy will, let thy winds be not still. Guide us to better days, for this is what I pray.”

You stay there for a long moment, waiting. Then, the wind picks up and you hear a voice from it. It seems vaguely familiar but you can’t quite figure out why.

“Your diligence and passion for your cause has secured my blessing,” the winds whispered. “My winds will be at your back and support your cause. However, if you accept a vision despite your fears, you will be able to do far more. The wind will whisper secrets to your ears. All plans spoken will be carried to your ears.

“You need not fight with it. Trust in me, that I will not strike you down for accepting this gift. In your time here in my home I have found you to be a friend to us so I will be a friend to you.”

You feel tears come to your eyes. “I accept,” you whisper. This will be incredibly valuable.There’s no way you could turn it down. And this is the kind of god you can trust and accept a vision from. He is as kind, generous, and benevolent as his people.

After a moment of silence, the winds calm and a gleaming turquoise vision lies before you, dangling from a necklace like a pendant. It’s smaller than some others you’ve seen and is hidden easily when you slide it over your head and under your shirt. That will be invaluable when you return to Inazuma. It would be most suspicious for you to return with one after everything that’s happened.

You take another moment to catch your breath and wipe the tears from your eyes. Then you take a particularly deep breath to steady yourself and make your way back to Venti. “How did it go?” He asks, and you smile in response.

“It went very well,” you said, pulling the pendant out to show him your new vision. “Now we match! Now… I believe I was promised a kiss?”

The smile on his face at your teasing words could have lit up a room, if you were in one. He took your hands in his and tugged you closer gently before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. It was a pleasant kiss, chaste but lingering and sweet.

He giggled at the face you made when he pulled away. You joined it, adding your laughter to his. Between the blessing and his kiss you felt like you were on top of the world. Then you remembered something that brought you down from your high.

“Venti, you know this means I have to leave now, right?” You inquire.

His face fell to a serious and thoughtful expression before it softened and he sent you a small smile. “Yeah, I know. You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” you respond softly. “I love you too.”

He nods. “Then I’ll wait for you. So don’t take too long, okay?”

“Of course, I’ll do what I can,” you reply.

Your parting is sad, but hopeful as he waves you goodbye until you’re so far away that he can’t see you. He sings nearly nothing but sappy love songs for the next week. He misses you, but knows you’ll be back. His winds won’t let anything happen to you after all.

When you return to Inazuma you find that all the rebels with anemo visions had their power boosted, the ships sailed swifter with the wind behind them, and the information the wind brought you gave you many victories. The struggle was still difficult, but the help you had obtained made a serious difference and soon enough you were headed back to Mondstadt.

You are headed home. After all, home is where the heart is.

tag list: @clouds-rambles

[morganaspendragonss]

Hello 🥰 Whump fic idea :)TK lands in the hospital, again. But this time they're serious, serious injuries, he is under a respirator, he is not breathing on his own, the doctors do not give him much chance of survival, they even advise it would be the best to prepare for the worst and say goodbye, just in case. Owen calls Gwen, she's arriving the same day with Enzo and baby junior. When in the hospital they find out how it happened and that it's mostly Owen's fault (I don't know, for example, he allowed Tk to enter the unstable building to tend to the patient, or whether he made someone else angry and this person unloaded it on TK, or Owen decided to do something reckless and TK wanted to save him or it is The arson situation from 2x12 so Gwyn arrives pregnant, without a baby of course), Gwyn slaps him twice and Enzo punches him right in the nose, breaking it, for risking TK's life. Fortunately, despite the bad prognosis, TK wakes up, but after he took his sweet time being in a coma.

holly's august extravaganza day 3: the meetings for those in my wake

thanks for the prompt! i really loved writing this one though i need to confess to toning it down a little? idk but with the way it was going it didn't feel right to have enzo break owen's nose. i hope you still like it!

ao3 | 3.3k | major character injury, coma, angst with a happy ending

For years after the divorce, Gwyn came to learn that any call from Owen was almost certainly bad news.

TK got in a fight.

TK overdosed.

TK was shot, he’s in the hospital.

Over and over, until the first words out of her mouth whenever Owen’s name flashed up on her screen were, What’s wrong?

Things have been better in the three years since her time in Texas. Gwyn suspects it’s partly TK’s influence—he’s been more than enthusiastic in getting to know his baby brother, and Isaac has latched onto TK despite only seeing him in person every few months or so. But they’ve talked as well, she and Owen, and they really are doing better. They’re almost like friends now, which is why Gwyn thinks nothing of it when he calls just after she’s put Isaac to bed for the night.

“Owen, hey,” she greets. “What’s up?”

The silence she’s answered with is the first sign that something’s wrong.

The sob that follows is the second.

“Owen?” Gwyn repeats, louder this time, her heart leaping into her throat. She sits down heavily on the sofa as she waits for Owen’s response; there’s only one thing that could make him cry like that, and tears prick at Gwyn’s eyes as she imagines TK hurt again, or worse.

“Gwyn,” Owen eventually manages to gasp out, voice wrecked. “Gwyn, it’s TK. He’s… You need to get here. You need— It’s not like last time. They don’t know if he’s going to— They don’t think— It’s bad. Really bad.”

Owen breaks off, crying harder, and Gwyn claps a hand to her mouth. She remembers well how devastated he’d been when he called about the gunshot, but this a whole other level. Gwyn’s head spins with the potential implications of that and she finds her breath coming in sharp gasps, but it’s Owen’s next words that knocks it from her altogether.

“They think we should say goodbye.”

The rest of the story comes haltingly—someone got angry after his son couldn’t be saved on a call, he came to the firehouse, he attacked TK—but Gwyn barely hears it. Her boy is in the hospital again and this time…this time he might not be coming home. She can’t understand it; she spoke to him just two days ago, they made plans for he and Carlos to visit for Isaac’s birthday, and now…

“I’m so sorry, Gwyn,” Owen finishes. She feels a flash of that age-old urge to scream at him, but she fights it off, not wanting to wake Isaac.

“I’ll be on the first flight over,” she promises, then ends the call, sliding off the couch to the floor. Her phone falls from limp fingers and harsh sobs tear from her throat, muffled by the press of her fist against her mouth.

Enzo finds her there an hour later and immediately takes her in his arms, not complaining about her tears soaking his shirt. When she tells him what happened, he insists on joining her, and Gwyn allows herself to take that shred of comfort and run with it.

She thinks it’s the only comfort she’s likely to get right now.

The next flight isn’t until morning, so Gwyn spends a sleepless night packing and unpacking their suitcases and making phone calls with the firm and her clients to cancel everything for the foreseeable. She has the brief, terrible thought about whether she should pack funeral attire, which almost sends her into a panic attack as reality hits her all over again.

Enzo saves her from it, gently guiding her to bed, but not before she packs the clothes anyway.

Isaac seems to pick up on her mood when they’re hurrying out of the house, remaining mostly quiet aside from the odd question about where they’re going. He perks up considerably when he finds out they’re heading to Austin, babbling about seeing TK, and Gwyn has to blink hard to keep from crying again. Enzo reaches over to take her hand, and he barely lets go until they’re landing in Austin.

*

The entrance to the ICU looms before her, and Gwyn feels stuck. There had been a part of her, still, that had hoped to find TK miraculously awake and on the mend, like the last time she had made this trip. She doesn’t want to believe that he’s here, hurt, maybe dying.

But he is, and she’s forcefully reminded of that fact when a kind-looking nurse approaches her hesitantly.

“Ma’am? Can I help you?”

Gwyn blinks at her, her brain taking a moment to catch up. “I, um. I’m here to see my son. TK Strand.” She pauses, then shakes her head, cursing herself internally. “Tyler Kennedy Strand.”

The nurse’s entire demeanour changes, a sympathetic smile taking over her face. “This way.” She leads Gwyn through the ICU, then points at a door near the end of the corridor. “Tyler’s room is just there. I promise, we’re doing everything we can for him.”

Gwyn nods absently, her gaze stuck on the door the nurse had indicated. She walks forward slowly, the room seeming to get further and further away until, suddenly, she’s standing on the threshold, and she sees her son.

TK is barely visible, his face half-obscured by the ventilator, half by bruises, and heavy gauze covers his forehead. His arms, resting limply at his sides, are littered with scrapes, and if Gwyn squints, she can just about make out more bandages peeking out from under the hospital gown.

She’d thought that seeing him would make it all real, but she feels separate from everything somehow, only one thought going through her mind on repeat.

This is not my son.

A quiet whisper draws her attention to the figure sitting at TK’s side. Gwyn has to suppress a gasp as she takes in Carlos’s appearance; she hasn’t seen him in person since the wedding last year, and his pale face and red-rimmed eyes cut a stark contrast to that day. He hasn’t noticed her yet, wholly fixated on TK, one hand gently stroking the tufts of hair poking out above the bandage. His lips move and Gwyn knows she should walk away, but instead she finds herself leaning closer, straining to hear Carlos’s words.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he’s saying. “I know you’re fighting and I know you’re going to try as hard as you can to come back to us—believe me, Ty, I am praying every day to see those pretty green eyes of yours open again. But I—I want you to know that it’s okay if you can’t. If it gets too hard, if you need to let go, you can. I already miss you like crazy and I really, really, don’t want to live the rest of my life without you, but the thing I can’t stand more than that is the idea of you suffering.

“Come back if you can, but if someday you find you can’t, remember that I love you and we’ll be okay. I promise.”

Carlos sniffs and ducks his head to place a gentle, lingering kiss on TK’s cheekbone. It’s such a tender, intimate moment, but it quickly shatters when Carlos looks up and spots her, his eyes going wide. “Gwyn. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were there.”

She waves him off, willing herself to finally step into the room. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have said something, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Carlos nods, giving her a small, sad smile, which Gwyn does her best to return. She pulls up another chair and sinks into it, reaching out to take TK’s hand. She’s startled by the coolness of his skin, and more tears burn in the back of her eyes.

“What did the doctors say?” she asks, clearing her throat and twisting her body towards Carlos, though her eyes never leave TK.

“That it was a miracle he made it through surgery,” Carlos says, sighing wearily. “Eight stab wounds, too much blood loss, damage to his organs, broken ribs—that’s all bad enough, but they’re most worried about his brain. He took at least two blows to the head, and add that to the fact he wasn’t breathing for a good few minutes… They keep saying not to speculate, but we all know the odds here.”

Carlos’s voice breaks and Gwyn reaches out to comfort him, feeling sick to her stomach at the revelation. Why anyone would do this to her boy, she can’t comprehend; she finds herself both wanting answers and feeling unable to take any more.

Owen chooses that moment to appear in the doorway, looking every bit as wrecked as he sounded on the phone. “Gwyn,” he says roughly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Carlos moves as if to give them privacy, but Gwyn shakes her head at him, cutting off his protests before he can even get them out. “You stay with him, Carlos,” she tells him. “We’ll talk in the hall.”

They head to a quiet spot not too far from TK’s room, and Gwyn turns to face Owen, holding her arms. “What the hell happened, Owen? Why is our son lying in there, not even breathing on his own?”

A flicker of a frown crosses Owen’s face. “I told you—”

“No, you didn’t.” Gwyn clenches her jaw, staring him down. “You said he’d been attacked, not that some maniac had used him as their personal punching bag.”

A few more seconds pass before Owen relents, sighing. “There was a call,” he starts, voice heavy with sorrow. “A car accident; dad and his kid were trapped inside. We got the dad out but the son was stuck pretty good. It took a long time to free him and by then it was too late—EMS did their best, but he was gone.

“The dad went ballistic, screaming at all of us, but especially at TK. We don’t really know why, but it was probably a convenience thing; TK had been the one to break the news, he was the closest person—the guy wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. He threatened him, tried to hit him—the cops had to arrest him eventually, but you know TK. He refused to press charges, said that the dad was just in shock and that he understood.”

Gwyn smiles a little at that; her son has always been too forgiving for his own good. It’s never come back to hurt him this badly before, though.

Owen pauses, throat bobbing as he seems to work up to the next part. His voice is quiet, and he seems reluctant to meet Gwyn’s eyes. “He showed up at the firehouse a week later—the dad, I mean. He said he wanted to apologise and, I swear, Gwyn, he really did seem genuine. None of us wanted to let him near TK, but ultimately it was TK’s decision. They went round the side of the house to talk; when neither of them came back after twenty minutes, we went looking.

“By that time, the guy was gone, and TK was…” He stops and shakes his head, swallowing hard. “He could barely breathe. Tommy and Nancy did what they could and they got him here quickly, but we have no idea how long he’d been like that before we found him.”

Gwyn’s head snaps up, a white-hot anger flashing through her. “I can’t believe you,” she hisses. “You left our son alone with a man who had already threatened him for twenty minutes, Owen.”

Owen frowns. “I told you, he seemed genuine. And TK—”

Gwyn can’t help it; she slaps him. “Don’t you dare,” she grounds out, crowding into Owen’s space. “Don’t you dare act like this was his fault.”

“I wasn’t—”

Her arm moves on instinct, but before she can connect again, a hand closes around her wrist. Gwyn turns to find Enzo staring at her, brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Gwyn, what’s going on?”

She shakes her head and takes a step back from Owen, freeing herself from Enzo’s grasp. “What’s going on,” she responds tightly, “is that he is part of the reason why my son is half-dead in there.”

Enzo gapes between them. “What?”

She ignores the question, needing to focus on anything else to keep her anger from overwhelming her. “What are you doing here anyway? Where’s Isaac?”

“He’s with Grace and Judd, they offered to babysit so I could come here. What—”

“Hang on,” Owen interrupts. “What is he doing here? I figured he’d stay in New York with the kid.”

“Isaac is TK’s brother, Owen,” Gwyn says, turning on him again. “And Enzo has just as much right to be here as any of us; he was more of a father to TK than you were sometimes.”

Owen’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Him? You’re joking, right?”

Gwyn isn’t sure what happens next, who starts it, but soon they’re all yelling, insults and accusations flying around the ward. There’s a furious nurse heading their way, but before she can say anything, another voice cuts through the argument, quiet and trembling but still somehow powerful.

“Get out,” Carlos says. “All of you.”

They all turn to him, Gwyn’s lips parting in shock. Owen takes a step towards him, holding his hands out in a gesture that’s probably meant to be pacifying.

“Carlos—”

“I mean it, Owen,” he snaps, harsher than Gwyn has ever heard him before. “You all screaming at each other is the last thing any of us needs, least of all TK. The only person to blame in all this is the guy who attacked him, and he’s already in custody; he’ll get what’s coming to him. If TK—” Carlos breaks off, clenching his jaw and staring down at the floor. He closes his eyes for a moment, before breathing out shakily and looking back up at them. “If anything changes, I’ll call you, I promise. But you can’t be here right now. Go, please.”

Carlos doesn’t wait for a response before turning on his heel and going back into TK’s room, reassuming his position next to the bed. Gwyn watches him for a second, nodding when Enzo pointedly takes her elbow.

“He’s right,” she says, directed at Owen. “We should go.”

Owen glares, gearing up to argue again, but he must think better of it as he suddenly slumps, all the energy draining out of him. “Right,” he mutters. “Right.”

They file slowly out of the ICU, closely watched by the hard eyes of the nurse from before. Gwyn spares one last look before forcing herself forwards; if getting here was hard, walking away is a thousand times worse.

*

Three weeks pass with no change and, crucially, no improvement. Gwyn spends more time with Carlos than she ever has before, and she hates that it’s her son being comatose that has brought the two of them closer. A tentative peace exists between her and Owen and she knows—truly, she knows—that the attack wasn’t his fault, that there was nothing that could have stopped it.

But she can’t help but be angry that, once again, her son was seriously hurt and she wasn’t around.

She takes Isaac to see TK once, when the worst of the bruises have faded a little. She worries that he’ll be scared, and he does seem to hesitate when they reach the room; in truth, Gwyn hadn’t wanted to bring him at all, but he’d kept asking about TK and she’d found herself helpless to do anything but acquiesce.

They still haven’t told him what’s going on. No-one knows how to. All Isaac knows is that TK is a little hurt and he needs rest, and even that knowledge seems to upset him.

Once he gets used to the sight, Isaac stretches his hands out to the bed. “TK,” he says simply, looking pleadingly up at Gwyn.

She hugs him close, trying to smile for him. “TK’s asleep, sweetie,” she explains. “He needs rest.”

“When wake up?”

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.”

*

Three weeks pass, and the doctors start talking about options and next steps. It’s obvious what that’s code for—they want to pull the plug. They’re told to take all the time they need to discuss it but, ultimately, the decision will be Carlos’s, as TK’s husband and next of kin.

Gwyn knows what choice he’s going to make; it’s the same one she, or anyone else in his position, would make.

That doesn’t make it any easier to bear, for any of them.

Gwyn finds him in the hallway, bent over with his head in his hands. She goes over and quietly sits in the chair next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back.

There’s a long silence before Carlos sniffs and turns to her, his face the picture of devastation. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Gwyn,” he whispers, voice cracking. “How am I supposed to just give up on him like that?”

She shakes her head. “You’re not giving up on him, Carlos. You’re letting him go.”

“I don’t know how to do that either.”

“None of us do.”

Silence again, but this time, it’s Gwyn that breaks it first. “Listen, Carlos, I know this is hard. God knows I wish none of us were even here. But we are, and we have to do what’s best for everyone, including TK.”

“I know that,” Carlos admits. “I just don’t want to lose him.” He closes his eyes and leans into Gwyn, allowing her to wrap him in a hug. “I wish we had more time.”

Gwyn’s heart breaks all over again, and she squeezes his shaking shoulders. “We’ve got time,” she says, though she knows that’s not what he meant. “As much as you need.”

The sob she’s answered with tells her there’s not enough time in the world for Carlos to say goodbye to TK.

*

The call comes in the middle of the night. Dread pools in Gwyn’s gut as she accepts it and lifts the phone to her ear, her hands trembling.

“Owen?”

“Gwyn. TK, he—he woke up. It was only for a few seconds, but he woke up, Gwyn. The doctors said it was a miracle; they think he might actually recover.”

Gwyn gasps, a sob crawling up her throat as the news sinks in. It’s everything she’s been praying for ever since that first call, and all she can think about now is getting to TK.

“I’ll be at the hospital in fifteen,” she says. She ends the calls and raises her hands to her face, wiping away the tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

Maybe this nightmare is finally coming to an end.

*

TK is off getting tests when Gwyn arrives, but she’s finally allowed back in the room an hour later, Carlos and Owen on her heels. The ventilator has been removed, replaced by a nasal cannula, and his eyes are open—barely to slits, but Gwyn doesn’t care. TK is awake and alive, and that’s all that matters.

As soon as she’s in the chair by the bed, she reaches out for him, her touch feather-light as she strokes his cheek. “My brave boy,” she whispers wetly. “My brave, brave boy.”

TK’s head rolls on the pillow so he’s facing her and he mumbles something that’s probably meant to be a greeting, but the words jumble together and come out as gibberish.

Gwyn thinks it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.

They’ve all been briefed about the risks of brain damage and all the potential lasting consequences which could impact the rest of TK’s life. But right now, as she holds TK’s hand with Carlos on his other side and Owen at her back, Gwyn chooses to take solace in the constant rise and fall of TK’s chest and the heart monitor beeping out a steady rhythm.

There’ll be enough time for worry later; for now, her son is alive, and Gwyn can’t think of anything else that's more important.

[skiyoosmi]

– caramel frappucino | 22

marga’s notes. because no one deserves to be confronted just through texts ♡ i recommend y’all to listen to the songs below while reading cause… the feels!! + some of the lyrics fit in their story :((

♪ CHAPTER PLAYLIST ♪

tokyo by joseph & maia | i can’t make you love me covered by dave thomas junior | still feel it all by maro

previous | masterlist | next

Every chime of the small bell hanging by the café’s glass doors had your head snapping up, anxiety plastered on your face while doing so. Sweat kept on forming on your palms as time seemed to tick slower. I probably look like a fool looking at every new customer right now, you thought as you looked around the area, nervous that he might’ve already arrived and you just didn’t notice it yet. Too occupied with your unnecessary thoughts, you have failed to notice the figure making its way towards you, hands deep in the pocket of his denim jacket.

“You look like a mess,” his monotonous voice told you, chuckling by the end of his statement as you gasped and sat up straight, acting as normal as possible. Your somewhat sympathetic eyes followed his figure as he took a seat in front of you.

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s still too early to break my heart, you know?” he joked although there was a stinging pain that passed in his heart as he said that… but you don’t have to know that, he thought.

The café was quiet; too quiet that as more seconds pass by, the faster your heart beats. If you were to be honest, you didn’t know where to start. You didn’t even know how you have gathered enough courage to meet him today. After what Tooru had told you last night, you hadn’t even slept a wink. You just couldn’t.

“Uhm… so… Tooru… uhh,” you stuttered, mind going blank as you tried to form your words that you have practiced so many times while you were in the bathroom, getting ready a while ago. What in the world are you doing, [y/n]? Speak! you internally screamed, already imagining yourself regretting your decision by the end of the day.

“I know. He told me that he told you,” he softly spoke, giving you a small smile of reassurance; just like what he’s been doing in the past years and with that, you felt your heart shatter as your thoughts flooded you once more.

How could you have not noticed it? Looking at him, you could see it now – the eyes that stared at you lovingly; the hand that twitches every now and then as it longed to touch you, or pull you close; the smile that held back so many feelings; and the heart that holds his love that was solely kept for you… how could you have not noticed it?

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you felt tears welling up. Frustration grew inside you when you heard him chuckle. How could he even manage to laugh right now? You had no idea how he did it. In your case, guilt surged in your insides as if it was an ocean threatening to swallow you whole. If you could shrink yourself into oblivion, you would probably do so.

Slowly, he reached over your hand that was neatly folded together on the table, caressing it with his thumb as he held onto it tightly. You were sure that if anyone who doesn’t know both of you sees you, they’d probably think you were just another couple out on a simple date but no. You two were best friends who fell in love with each other, both in wrong times. You were two young adults who danced in fate’s hands, clueless that you were being played by time.

“Don’t say sorry. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault except time, [y/n],” he told you, lightly squeezing the hand he held. You sniffed a little bit, finally gathering the courage to look back at him after your short turmoil.

“I should’ve told you…” you both said at the same time, catching each other off guard. Light chuckles turned into a fit of giggles as you shook your heads at your silliness. Unbeknownst to the two of you, your thoughts matched one another’s while you had your lovely moment. You were made for me, but not in ‘that’ way, you both thought; hands still intact with each other.

“I expected you to be more… crybaby,” he commented after a few moments of talking. You sadly smiled after releasing a deep breath.

“I had my crybaby moment last night already,” you shrugged as you fiddled with your fingers out of nervousness. The deafening silence has returned once more as Hajime stared at you, rather longingly… but again, he thought you don’t have to know that.

“Stop being so guilty, you baby. It’s not our fault time was against us,” he softly spoke with reassurance and comfort.

“You like that Sakusa now, don’t you?” you meekly nodded, an eyebrow rising at the sudden query.

“Then be happy with him.”

You opened your mouth to say something against his statement, only to be shut down as he held his hand up. When it comes to Hajime’s firmness, no one can go against it; not even you, his sole weakness.

“Don’t think about me. I’ll be fine soon… having this closure with you… it’s enough for me,” once again, the small wound in your heart burst open and soon, tears formed in the corner of your eyes while you hastily wiped them off. He was too kind, too pure for this world, even for you. He whispered a quiet ‘stop crying’ while wiping the salty liquid that escaped your eyes.

“W-what did I do to deserve someone like you?” you whimpered, not even caring if the other customers looked at the two of you weirdly.

“W…what can I do to repay this kindness?” you asked him as you looked with a pair of melancholic eyes.

“Just spend this day with me like what we normally do… then be happy.”

And you did. From going to an amusement park, watching a movie and at some point during your friendly date, he managed to ask you one of the questions that kept him up from his sleep as well.

“So… uhm… I may or may not have read one of your texts with Sakusa about the strawberry ice cream,” he muttered, sheepishly scratching the back of his head as he looked at you, who in turn, shrugged.

“I used to love it; you know? Those boxes of strawberry milk you got me throughout middle and high school. It gave me the hope that maybe, I was special to you too…” you softly told him while you both walked along the park, having had enough of the rides that almost made you two puke your internal organs out. “… until third year came when I accepted that it won’t happen; we will never happen. Anything that had strawberry in it tasted bitter. I felt bitter.”

He never said anything back and soon, you found yourselves eating dinner in a fancy restaurant that he told you he’d been saving up for to take you someday.

Little did you know, Hajime’s heart has been erratically beating due to the fact that the time he dreaded neared as you were almost done eating. You were already at your desserts and soon, he will have to say goodbye; not as your friend but as your lover. As soon as the day ends and tomorrow comes, he will – finally – have to let you go.

“In our next lives…” you looked up from the caramel custard you were poking with your teaspoon as he spoke up. You hummed, signaling him to continue, unaware of the gulp he took while trying to formulate his next words.

“In our next lives, I will love you first… I will make you happy and I will give you the love you have always deserved. For now, be happy with Sakusa in this timeline.”

The walk to the train was quiet, but no longer the same quietness you hated that morning – it was comforting, it felt like home as you walked together hand in hand, no pain lingering around your hearts as you both accepted your fate.

“Well, today was… fulfilling, Haji. This… this is my ride ho–”

“I’ll take you home. Let’s go,” he announced as he pulled you inside the train packed with office workers who were dying to go home and rest. You wonder why he suddenly thought of taking you all the way to your house. He literally has to travel for another hour because of this, you internally screamed while glaring at him for his impulsiveness.

“Stop glaring at me. It’s only right that I take you home for the last time,” he spoke, not even bothering to look at you. How did he know you were glaring? You honestly have no idea.

Thirty minutes later and here you both were, walking side by side along the empty street leading to your home. His firm statement back in the restaurant lingered in your mind as you remembered how it struck your heart when you heard it. Because of that, you didn’t even know how to respond and remained silent. Still, he held no sadness nor remorse in his face, only a determined look that almost convinced you that it will happen soon.

As your simple house came into view, you both stopped, knowing that he has to go back to the station now or else he will have to wait another thirty minutes for the next train to arrive. He was quick to ruffle your hair, silently bidding his goodbye.

You knew that if one of you speaks at the moment, you were sure as hell that one of you will also go into full-blown crying. But you know what? Damn this all, you thought.

“Iwaizumi Hajime!” you yelled as soon as he was about twenty steps away from you. You could see him stiffen but slowly turned around. You didn’t care if you woke some of your neighbors; you could deal with their complaints tomorrow.

“In our next lives, I will choose you… you better find me, okay, Haji?”

Tears were spilled from both of your eyes as he solemnly smiled and nodded, choosing to mouth his reply. Nonetheless, you understood it with your whole heart.

“I’ll come to you… so please wait for me.”

[bts-weverse-trans]

201125 Weverse Magazine ‘BE’ Comeback Interview - V

V: “I wish we were back with ARMY, laughing together” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.25

During V’s photo shoot, he’s wearing a different expression in every photo on the monitor. They create a tension and an anticipation because we have no way of knowing what he might do even one second later. But the result is cool from start to finish. It’s V.

How are you doing these days? It’s been a long time since you were able to see your fans. V: I’m not over-stressing about how I can’t meet the fans face to face right now. I just want to see them when it’s safe to meet. I think now, I can wait until then.

As your song says, “Life Goes On.” You decided to keep going on with your life. V: We have to move on. We can’t feel defeated forever. I felt a lot better after making some songs.

Other than working on “Dynamite,” you’ve spent very little time away from home. How do you pass the time when you’re by yourself? V: I really like just spacing out, so I’ll sit in my room doing nothing for hours. I could try putting on a movie, but then I couldn’t concentrate and would just zone out. When that happens, it’s kind of like I’m living without a thought or care in the world. Maybe I should make a song about all of this someday. Probably call it “Spaced.” (laughs) Anyway, these days I’m looking for ways to keep myself happy.

Have you found anything? V: Well, I’m listening to LPs lately. It’s getting to be Christmas season and I love snow, so I bought two or three Christmas LPs to listen to. I’m also listening to old jazz songs by Frank Sinatra and Sammy Davis Jr. Frank Sinatra is cool, like chilled wine; Sammy Davis Jr. is crazy talented. (laughs)

So that’s the type of performer you find cool. V: Those two were also a big inspiration to me while we were working on “Dynamite.” Sinatra has all this jazzy body language, but he also threw some disco in there. And I imagined how Sammy Davis Jr. might dance if there were a mic on stage and he had to dance around it. They were a lot of help when I was finding a way to be upbeat and cool at the same time in “Dynamite.”

I guess making “Dynamite” must have been some consolation even when you couldn’t meet fans due to COVID-19. V: We couldn’t put on a concert and couldn’t see ARMY, so we were feeling more and more drained. It seemed like an endless battle. We really wanted to see ARMY feeling better, so we had to get back up on stage and make another album so that together we could beat this thing. I want to be the friend who’s always cheering ARMY on, but there aren’t many ways to make them feel better.

How was the whole “Dynamite” experience? You made it to the top of the Billboard Hot 100 and also had a chance to perform in a variety of different styles. V: Shooting the Tiny Desk Concert was a very natural process, which was nice. But actually, with the situation being what it is, we couldn’t really feel much. The day the news came out was of course thrilling. It was great, actually, all of us calling each other and some of us laughing and others crying: “We haven’t gone down the wrong path after all! Turns out we had a chance—it really was possible!”

While you were performing in “Dynamite,” you were also the visual director for BE. I’m sure you were unimaginably busy taking photos, but were you able to communicate well with the other members? V: We communicated smoothly, and I listened to all of their concept ideas and I organized everything around that. If we tried something too natural, it wouldn’t be conceptual enough, so we did our best to strike a balance.

You had everyone sitting in the middle, with the set arranged symmetrically around you. V: That was made possible thanks to everyone having their own ideas. There was no overlap between items, which actually allowed us to create a sense of unity by placing all these different props symmetrically. It wasn’t intended to be symmetrical; each member really did choose something unique.

In your room, you included a violin and a photograph. V: That’s a picture I took. I like photos and drawings, but if I had used any art then I would’ve been using that one particular artist’s work, so I thought I’d better use one of my own photos. I ended up choosing the violin because I learned how to play it but also because I enjoy classical and jazz.

So how do you feel it turned out? V: I made it, so naturally I like it. (laughs) Part of me thinks I should’ve tried something more conceptual. BE was supposed to give off sort of a magazine or poster feel since we didn’t shoot many of those, but it ended up having more of a natural feel to it. But I did think that the next time we try to make a photoshoot conceptual we should move away from that natural look a bit. The group explained their ideas clearly and they were simple enough to do, so I think it all went really smoothly.

It sounds like there were no problems choosing the songs for BE. How did you feel recording your parts on the other members’ songs? V: I like “Dis-ease,” which Hobi hyung wrote, but stylistically it was challenging. It’s really far from my own style so it took a long time to get used to. “Fly to My Room” used to be my favorite song, but it was also the hardest to sing. It was okay at first, until Jimin jumped in.

What about Jimin? V: Because I had to keep up with Jimin, the song went up maybe three keys. I thought I would die. (laughs) It started out as my favorite song, but it was just way too hard to sing.

But why did you have to sing that way? V: Jimin said he was sorry, that he couldn’t go any lower. (laughs) When I first heard the demo version, the key was perfect for me, so I thought it would sound great and I should definitely do it. But then Jimin said he wanted to do it too, so I said, “Great, let’s do it together.” Turns out we went up three keys. So I said, “Hey, what’s the deal? Should I just give up?” But, well, somehow it all worked out in the end. It was a happy ending. (laughs)

People might be able to hear that part better because it’s so much higher. (laughs) The tone of your combined voices and the way they contrast is really impressive. V: Yes, but all that aside, it was quite the struggle. (laughs) And the chorus is really long. I think it repeats, what, four times?

Yes, it feels like the chorus never ends. The production style is very unique. I like how the emotion is carried through the whole way. V: I agree, but it’s so long. The chorus turned out crazy, like I was kind of beating the melody into people’s ears. (laughs) The chorus is good, but the whole song’s melody is really catchy. Whenever I heard the beat, I was totally into it. The way the vocals pick up on the beat and the melody was so original and fun, I just had to do it.

What instructions did you give to the other members when they were singing on your song, “Blue & Grey”? V: I didn’t really have to give them instructions much. I told them it would be nice if they could think of all their problems and then try healing those wounds with their voices, since if they focus on those emotions, there’ll be more feeling in the song. They all did a good job expressing the emotions I wasn’t able to.

It seems like you intended “Blue & Grey” to be a melancholy song. I heard you had originally planned to put it on your mixtape. V: I wrote “Blue & Grey” when I was at my lowest point, when I was actually asking whether I could keep going with my work or not. Even the fun parts of work became a chore, and my whole life felt aimless. “Where do I go from here? I can’t even see the end of the tunnel.” Those kinds of thoughts hit me hard.

Was there a reason for that? V: It was when work was a major challenge. When I’m happy, I want to work, and when I’m happy I can put on a smile and see the fans, but there was just so much work to do. I’m an easygoing, you know, laid-back person, but I was stretched too thin and I was starting to sputter. What I mean is, I was having a really tough time, and thinking, “What’s waiting for me at the end? It’s important to be successful, but I’m also trying to be happy, so how come I’m not happy right now?” That’s when I started to write “Blue & Grey.”

So writing the song was sort of your way of bringing yourself some peace of mind. V: There was a time I was going through something like this. I was having the toughest time, but I couldn’t keep carrying that feeling around with me. Instead, I could use it as a kind of fertilizer. So I took care of that feeling by constantly writing it down in my notes. I just kept writing everything down, and when finally I felt like I wanted to try writing a song, I did. After the song was finished, I felt a sense of accomplishment, and that’s how I was able to let go of “Blue & Grey.” That was one way I wanted to try getting over my problem.

The songs you make or sing solo on all have similar images: night; loneliness; snow. V: I like nighttime and the late-night air, and when it snows, too. I liked those things since way back when, but lately I feel things like snow and the night air keep me alive. They may just be another part of normal life to other people, but to me, they represent very special moments.

That makes me think of the ending from “Blue & Grey”: “After secretly sending my words up into the air / Now I fall asleep at dawn.” V: I don’t really sleep well. I toss and turn and get caught up in a lot of thoughts. Even when I turn out all the lights, I can see everything clearly. I close my eyes, but all my thoughts spread wide open. Then I’m sleepy at work, and staring off into space when I’m alone, with bags under my eyes, but if I want to avoid that then I really have to sleep. Except, with the way I am, it doesn’t allow for it. I wrote about that in the first and second verses; a feeling like, “When I’m stuck thinking like this, everything is grey, and I’m all blue.” I wrote these feelings out as a song, and now that I’m thinking about it again, I’m actually over it. I feel a lot lighter. I sent my words out into the air, and now I fall asleep at dawn. You’re supposed to sleep at night, but I’m sleeping in the morning again. So I say “good night,” but it’s not actually a good night. “I pass out because I’m exhausted” kind of thing. It’s the emotions I felt in those moments that I wanted to express.

What do you hope hearing about that feeling will do for listeners? V: Rather than just some stranger telling them to cheer up, I think it’s better to say something like, “You seem depressed lately,” or, “Seems like these days it’s tough for you to perk up.” “Blue & Grey” is the same: “You’re depressed lately? Me too. We’re in the same boat. Wanna talk about how you’re feeling? You wanna feel better, right? I know, but sometimes it feels like you’re being washed away by a whirlpool of stress.” I want the listeners to hear me saying that to them.

It’s important to express your emotions right away when they’re so overwhelming. V: Yes. I usually write a lot of songs when I’m feeling emotional, but these days I have so many different things to do that I can’t really write anything. I tried to write something before when I had a little time, but nothing came out because the feelings I had were already gone. So I tell myself, “You gotta write a lot when you’ve got the feels!” (laughs) And then I open my notes app and come back to old notes, like, “Ah, so that’s how I was feeling back then? I see. Well, that’s how I used to be, I guess.” So I tried to write “Blue & Grey” quickly, as soon as a big feeling came on.

Then it’s important to revisit those feelings when you’re producing a song or choosing which songs to release? V: If you can’t bring the feeling back, you can’t make the song, either. I release a song if I feel it expresses who I was and how I felt at the time when I wrote it. Even if we record it perfectly, if the result sounds artificial, I would rather release another, more honest sounding song instead, even if it’s not perfect.

Are those the kinds of songs you selected for your mixtape? V: Um … I don’t know. This is my first mixtape, you know, so I feel a ton of pressure about it. I’m thinking all the time about what kind of album I should make so that I can feel satisfied with it. The title track is the title track, but everyone also says to just leave it as it is, but I keep getting the urge to keep putting in more and more.

You usually write and choose songs based on your emotions. Maybe the pressure to make your first mixtape comes from you having a hard time with that. V: I think it still has a long way to go. Maybe it’s because it’s my first mixtape, but it’s so hard. And I feel like it’s a little lazy. People tell me just to put it out and see how it does, but I’d rather know what needs to be fixed before I release it. I also don’t want the title track to be depressing. I want it to be positive and help people beat those depressed feelings. But it’s not easy.

That sounds a lot like what the members conveyed with “Life Goes On.” V: I think we showed the current situation in a very straightforward and honest way. We’re still going, going, going. And the going is tough. But it doesn’t end here. I wish we were back with ARMY, laughing together. I hope we’ll all be happy in the future and keep on doing our own best, cherishing our hope for our happy future.

Trans © Weverse