#you tend to get caught in this cycle where good things make you scared because it feels temporary and reversible at any second

[uncanny-tranny]

The frustrating thing about having good days with pain or bodily irritation or mobility or whatever else isn't that it's a "good day." It's the feeling that you are either greatly exaggerating your suffering or worse, that you're secretly wanting attention/admiration for your suffering. I think people sometimes are confused as to why good days in terms of disability can be distressing to some, but it is precisely that you almost... overthink the Implications of good days.

It isn't that you want to be suffering, it is that you are taught you will only be "worthy" of help if you are suffering in the Right way (and having any good days are often seen as a sign that you aren't "truly worthy").

[northropi]

ACVI is probably the widest disconnect between the degree to which I feel good at the game and the degree to which I like the overall feel of the game I've ever experienced, with Ultrakill as a runner-up.

I've only just gotten to the end of Chapter 1. I got bopped for getting greedy in CH2M1 and going for combat logs on those Tetrapods while being too scared to take resupplies out of fear that I'd get locked into that room before finding everything, and haven't really attempted that one since because frankly I'm gonna need to devise a build with more ammo first, while also just buying out half the shop in general so I don't get stuck without an easy way to overwhelm a boss again. ("oh look at me i beat Balteus with shotguns you don't need pulse weapons to do it" well i didn't have those either, genius)

Now factor in my job, the fact I'm going for a trip this weekend, and my sheer executive dysfunction, and I don't anticipate to get anywhere close to the end for a few months.

It makes me think about why I tend to shy away from games I know to be hard, you know? One definite factor is that beating something hard is just not satisfying to me. The way people describe the feeling of a boss being a pain in the ass enhancing the feeling of winning is alien to me. I feel bad during the attempts and I almost feel worse when I beat it. I get mad and cuss it out as it goes down, far from the usual reaction you see from people who like that sort of thing.

On top of that I'm never sure if I got good or if I got lucky. I don't think I'd suddenly be able to do what I did again- and I swear I straight-up glitched Balteus because while it brought the flamethrowers out at 50% HP the winning run didn't see it pop assault armor until it was at like 25%, and I two-cycled the thing. Ultrakill, Claire de Soliel on Violent, my approach essentially got patched out with the harder weapon freshness rules now. Marauder, all that time ago, yeah I ate too many hits, with only a few successful attempts at sidestepping as I stood at optimal range with the SSG out- would not have flown on any higher difficulty. At least ACVI doesn't make me have to wrap my brain around constant weapon switching, though, but the fact that I tend to play all at once without taking breaks until I'm done, out of fear that I'll forget tricks I do pick up, probably also isn't helping my performance or my mood. I stayed up for like three hours on Balteus, it just wasn't fun.

After the AH12 I felt great, that was like three attempts. Juggernaut went down in two, that optional Tetrapod was like three, and I was shredding every conventional AC I found. I kinda joined into the meme of "the Souls fans don't know how to comprehend a vertical axis." That, I feel, is kind of true. Flight is an adjustment that came naturally to me because it's just part of the games I play the most. I felt vindicated that a group I saw as acclimated to hard games was hitting a rut when they encountered a challenge I dealt with on the regular. But from everything I hear, it's almost like having an easy time with the Helo and Juggernaut, and even Sulla, who I chewed up and spat out in a matter of seconds, is almost an indicator of how bad you're gonna do on Balteus.

It's here that it all caught up to me. I can flaunt how the movement fits me like a glove, but anyone who's just used to hard games in general has a lot that I don't. Reaction times, adaptability, planning, tilt-resistance, and, of course, fucking mindset- the ability to enjoy the gauntlet, or at least to walk away and come back refreshed.

I don't have these, and I don't think I can learn them.

This is kind of where the shitty difficulty discourse we've been in for ten years breaks apart. Souls games initially seemed like a mix of just not looking like my type of game on a functional level, and too hard for me to approach, and with what looked like little reward for a lot of struggling, I simply didn't. With how popular they are, it eventually hit me that they actually do look really fun when they're not pushing your nose into the dirt. I wanna play them in some context where I can be kept from getting mad, streaming them with friends or something (unfortunate that the one that looks the most appealing to me is also currently the least accessible).

Here comes ACVI, which I knew was gonna be hard but, hey, at least it closes the other side of that equation, maybe I'll have fun losing or even "git gud" and have some talent to show for it. Then Balteus made me feel fucking ill and I just don't know anymore. I kinda just want to go back to drawing for the last few hours of this weekend, but I'm afraid I'll never finish it if I do. Maybe a more functional version of me would see that break as exactly what she needs to come back and crush it but with the brain I have here and now that's not happening and this is at serious risk of becoming a second Signalis situation.

[phoenixyfriend]

SW Suddenly-Omegaverse AU: Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom

Truly the main irony of all this is that everyone considers Obi-Wan the Better Omega but Anakin is the one who's actually 👀👀👀 about pregnancy

Obi-Wan: I have the deepest respect for those who do it, but the idea of growing another person inside of me is weird and gross, no, thank you.

Meanwhile Anakin is like. Immediate baby fever. Someone actually approaches him like "hey... there are forms you can fill out to request an exception for pregnancy, and like... regulations" because he's that obvious about it.

I assume that if they've got safety nets for accidental pregnancies, then they're probably aware that there are people who want to do it on purpose? I feel like in an omegaverse where 'biological imperative to procreate' can be so much more intense, then maybe there's old precedent that stuck around even after suppressants got most of those hormones under better control.

Bit torn. Just know I want Anakin to Make Baby.

"Anakin, what are you--" "Do you think offering to be someone's surrogate would be acceptable to the council as a way to be pregnant without getting attached." "...what." "They'd probably accept that as a way to practice not getting attached, right?" "N...no, that's not... what?"

Anakin approaching Bail and Breha and being like “Do you... still want a kid? I would provide a kid. Do you want one here*?”

* in this dimension

Great way to give up the baby as a parent because he'd still be able to see them once in a while but also like... it's not HIS kid, technically. He can be a cool uncle who happened to give birth, which is distant enough to not be 'attached,' but close enough that his Tatooine-raised 'must ensure family is safe whenever possible' background doesn't flip out. It helps that 'Core World Royalty' is like... a top-tier family to be raised in.

(It would have to be post-war because he probably shouldn’t be risking his life while very pregnant. He needs to be reminded of that sometimes.)

Bail/Breha is an alpha/alpha relationship and while a pregnancy is still possible,* it’s a whole lot more difficult, and that's on top of Breha's canon medical issues that resulted in her heart and lungs getting replaced.

* AFAB alphas can get pregnant, and AMAB omegas can inseminate, but the success rate on that angle is much lower than the 'traditional' alpha/omega roles, as is any attempt at reproduction outside rut/heat. They're low-fertility overall for the non-dominant aspect of their reproductive system, which... ha, Anakin and Obi-Wan try to get explanations for why the senary system works the way it does, but it's a very longform history lesson that comes down to 'idk this got cemented so long ago that nobody really knows why anymore.'

AKA "why do you title these roles male omega and female alpha instead of intersex omega and intersex alpha since both parties have both genitals."

ANYWAY

Anakin: I want to make babies. But I don't want to get kicked out of the order. But I don't want to give up my own babies for adoption. But I can't keep my own babies if I want to stay a Jedi. So basically I want to have someone else's babies? Anakin: ...wait shit that's just surrogacy.

Anakin, calling up Obi-Wan: Hey are the Organas still struggling to have a kid? Obi-Wan: ...not really your business. Anakin: You're friends with Bail again though, right? Obi-Wan: I am, but-- Anakin: Do you think they'd want me to be a surrogate? Obi-Wan: What.

I can't decide if it's funnier for the Order to be like "I mean... technically there's no rules against this?" or if this is a precedent set by at least three omegas every generation because that's just how a/b/o manifested for omegas in a biological and cultural sense.

Bail: Wait, your former apprentice is... volunteering... to be our surrogate. Obi-Wan, exhausted: Yes. Bail: He barely knows us. Obi-Wan: He respects you and you're the closest people he knows that want a child and would be good parents. Bail: And he's just... volunteering? Obi-Wan: Yes. Also, you did say your primary worry was that a surrogate might be targeted for assassination and you couldn't ask someone to risk that, right? Anakin is very much able to avoid assassins, and would be staying primarily in the Temple anyway. Very safe, and not particularly scared of assassins in the first place. Bail: Your words say you approve, but your tone says otherwise. Obi-Wan: Anakin considers me his father. I'm not old enough to be a grandparent. Bail: Ah.

Anakin is a surrogate and enjoys it and everything is fine and then like a year later he's accidentally pregnant with his own and Rex's kid, and nobody knows how to ask if it's actually an accident.

A suggestion from @gelpenss:

OH MAN i.... have to drive home. But I just had a thought about like. I always want to poke at Betas in A/B/O like are they “normal” or different from our standard or.... but ANYWAY assuming they have a pheromonal thing I just think it would be neat if betas had the ability to be the Bucket of Cold Water. Like if caught early enough, and with the caveat it’s not permanent, a beta could arrest a rut or heat in its tracks until a more ideal time. Like. They aren’t birth control. But they are the remind me later button.

Okay done driving I am Returned to bring up why I brought up betas and it’s this: well okay 1. It plays nice with a popular but inaccurate dog breeding urban legend that female dogs will like, delay heat cycles? so that the bitches above them in pack hierarchy have first choice of mate selection. And I think in omegaverse it would be cool if that was a Bio Fact, and also historically enforced by the third designation. 2. It gives me an excuse to have betas have the Most Sensitive sense of smell because it’s their “job” to pick up on things before they go too far to be put on pause. 3. I’m just thinkin ‘bout a beta clone [...] just hovering around Obi-Wan because they found out how much stress his heat cycle causes and they’re like “okay cool I will help make sure it does Not”

I want to like a/b/o verses but betas niggle at me. I want to give them a hat and a Function that woulda helped before modern medicine.

I'm not sure how I feel about betas being able to delay heats, but I do like the idea of them having a more sensitive sense of pheromone smell than most. Most aliens assume it's omegas with the best sense of smell, and betas with the worst, but it's more complicated than that because they all specialize: Alphas are actually less attuned to pheromone smells, but more attuned to things that were useful back when humans were still a hunter-gatherer species. Omegas tend to be heightened towards danger smells like fire or aggression, and pheromones relating to children/care. Betas, as suggested above, are very sensitive to pheromone changes relating to mood and behavior of the community around them.

I like the idea that betas were historically the ones that ended up taking care children, unmated omegas, and so on during people's heats and ruts, because they kept their heads about themselves long enough to do things like cook and clean while someone was reeking of hormones. The checks and balances work out that betas may have lower fertility, but it makes them better able to support the network around them.

It works in with humanity's general collective history of thriving the most when working as a community.

Given that I decided that this is Jangobi, the clones might all subconsciously view Obi-Wan as Mom. Not intentionally, but, you know... Obi-Wan the not-evil stepmother. He doesn't know how he got into this situation, but he sure is here, and he sure as hell doesn't know how to get out.

Obi-Wan "I don't need to get pregnant, I have three million stepchildren" Kenobi

I definitely love "clones all want to make Obi-Wan's heats less stressful" but like in a different way from Whatever The Fuck Anakin's Got Going On.

Obi-Wan using the force to dull the pain in a Shiny's broken leg while the medic works on it and the Shiny just mumbles "Thanks mom" and everyone gets very embarrassed and pretends it didn't happen.

But then it happens again. And again.

Obi-Wan asks for an explanation from Cody and gets a halting response that, since Jango is technically their father, and his scent has been all over Obi-Wan recently... and Obi-Wan puts in a lot of effort to take care of them all.......

Anakin overhears the clones calling Obi-Wan "mom" and just. The most judgmental eyebrow raise.... Mostly in the sense of "You never let me call you dad" "Thought you said you weren't anyone's parent." "Hey, hey, Obi-Wan. What the fuck."

BOBA. BOBA ABSOLUTELY CALLS OBI-WAN MOM WHENEVER POSSIBLE. IT'S DEEPLY FRUSTRATING.

Obi-Wan eventually manages to admit that he's uncomfortable with it at minimum because of the gendering the word has for him, can they at least use the neutral 'buir' instead?

Word spreads like fire, takes like two days max for everyone to switch.

(Anakin demands cuddles as compensation for not getting to call Obi-Wan any true parental term for years.)

[honeybeanboo]

genshin boys with eating disorders : pt. 1

DISCLAIMER: okay first off! i have an eating disorder and i wondered what my favorite characters would be like in my situation! i am not pro-ed whether it be BED, ednos or anorexia or others. i'm using this for comfort and please do not use this post to further your own disorder!

CHARACTERS:

albedo ✔

bennet ✔

chongyun ✔

diluc ✔

kazuha

kaeya

razor

childe

venti

xiao

xingqiu

zhongli

MAJOR TW //

eating disorders, mental health challenges, bodyshaming, dysphoria, self harm, fatphobia

┅ albedo ┅

❂ restrictive eating disorder

❂ started + time had: before the traveller arrived, he's had it for a year or so

❂ who knows: sucrose suspects although doesn't hasn't told anyone yet

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

the nature of albedo's ed is forgetfulness and recording

he works in his camp all day, at his desk, doing experiments which in itself takes up a ton of his time! what started the behaviors was simply overworking himself and to the point where he was almost getting sick [ :( albedo ] the alchemist would forget to eat, multiple meals a day he would skip, chemicals in the vicinity making it unpleasant to eat, so he would opt for nothing at all

albedo doesn't recognize what he's doing as an eating disorder, he pushes the thoughts away when they remind him of what he's doing and that it's wrong,,, over time, he would end up having a small breakfast and wouldn't eat until dinner, subconsciously slipping into a routine and writing down each meal he would have, taking care to never fill more than half his note-page

chemicals in his lab constantly are bubbling and changing, so even when he decides to eat, they interrupt him and he constantly leaves unfinished food on his desk for sucrose to find later and wonder why he always leaves it there

- has always been secluded but avoids mondstat more and more, sending sucrose into town for errands and stays in dragonspine to do experiments -- this leads to never getting new clothes and in turn, him working to stay in the clothes he has

- denies everything if mentioned, seems confused at the mention

- very protective of his notebook

THIS MAKES ME SAD ALBEDO SOBSD

┅ bennett ┅

❂ restrictive eating disorder

❂ started + time had: around the time he became friends with razor and met fischl - around 6 months

❂ who knows: fischl definitely knows but chooses not to say anything due to how bad she is with talking about feelings :(

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

the nature of bennett's ed is dysphoria and responsibility

as we all know, bennett has always had horribly bad luck and although he doesn't know it, a lot of people admire him for his perseverance, albeit avoiding his company

he almost always finds a way to overcome the overwhelming hopelessness and guilt of always relying on other people for help and bringing them down with him, but as he enters his 15th year, it gets too much :(

when he met razor, and befriended him, the boy was something of a miracle, he stuck around, he helped bennett and taught him survival tactics :D he was bennett's best friend but bennett felt so incredibly guilty about relying on him for protection, friendship, and good food, he began to turn it away and began to disappear without warning to neither fischl or razor

he would go out adventuring, trying to bring back things to cook for lisa, for razor, for fischl, for kaeya, for diona, he felt like a burden and gave back as much as he could to make up for the consequences his company brought

≡ trans bennet headcanon: he's always been told he's small and thin by his dads, even before transition, so after he began to do more physical activity and bulked up a bit, it weighed on his mind

- dysphoria plays a lot into bennett's ed, not wanting to fill out the curves he always hated

- after a particularly bad batch of eggs he had cooked up, he threw up in the cat's tail's bathroom and that in turn started a small purge cycle before someone in town noticed and took his to the doctor which scared him enough to make him stop

bennett i will just sob and cry on the floor

┅ chongyun ┅

❂ restrictive / purging eating disorder [overeating in beginning]

❂ started + time had: started during his intense studying period for his exorcisms (can't remember the specific method he mentions) - around 2 years

❂ who knows: no one, although an older woman that works at Wanmin Restaurant is worried about him

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

the nature of chongyun's ed is control and work

chongyun has always been unstable, whether it be physically or emotionally, due to his build-up of ying energy, so it's no surprise when he bubbles over during the crunch of studying. his teacher pushed him harder and harder each lesson and the things he had to do to keep his stirrings in check weren't the healthiest, one of which was eating specific foods in excess

he bubbled over one day and had a full on mental breakdown, but with his family not near the place he took lessons, he turned to the thing he thought was making his ying energy multiply, not the workload but instead the food

the exorcist's disorder waned off when he met xingqiu, it being the happiest time in his life, a friend to talk to about practically everything, but then when his exorcisms began to only cause distress to the people he thought they would help, his energy became too much and he began purging, which helped enough for him to continue [ :( i'm so sad ] the popsicles help to calm his stomach after a purge and he came up with a low cal recipe to eat tons of

- the calories didn't matter much to him, but xingqiu was very into numbers as well as books, so it began to weigh on him

- he passed off any bad mood as just tiredness from his work

- xingqiu, my man i love him but he's completely oblivious although slightly worried about "burnout" for his friend

┅ diluc ┅

❂ restrictive eating disorder

❂ started + time had: around when him and kaeya were fighting, like really fighting and he hurt him badly - 3 years

❂ who knows: a lot of people suspect, but either dismiss it, or are too scared to confront him due to his intimidating nature T-T

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

the nature of diluc's ed is discipline and control

diluc tends to be very critical of himself and very hard on himself, which you may not know just from talking to him, or even from being a friend of his, as he tends to keep a lot of stuff to himself - if he makes a mistake, he takes all measures to make sure it doesn't happen again

when he and kaeya were fighting and things got violent, he burnt him quite badly right on his eye which is the reason why the captain wears his eyepatch - this scarred the brothers' relationship badly and diluc quite took literally took those scars unto himself,,, he would let himself be burned easily by his elemental powers, constantly feeling the immense guilt of their tension :[ he healed easily, but would do it again and again

although kaeya forgives him, diluc continues to remind himself every so often that he is the reason for problems, taking the responsibility to fix them, even though they may not even be his! he acts alone and aloofly even when the other person doesn't blame him in the slightest [ TT ]

diluc doesn't drink, he doesn't want to lose control, he never wants to loose control, which is why people almost never see him eat

he eats in small portions and toughs it out, disciplining himself, trying to prove himself worthy to no one but himself

- people have offhandedly mentioned that the bartender never seems to eat or drink - "hardly seems human sometimes"

- when he was caught by the traveler being the darknight hero, this worsened this "discipline" for himself, the man not thinking himself worthy if he was defeated so easily

≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡≡

and that's part 1! i'll make a part two soon because this is really fun and i really enjoy making these- i will include a more wide range of eds in the second part which will be kazuha, kaeya, razor, and childe

bennett's really made me sad dang

anyway bye!

[kylosgenesis]

Teardrops on Fire

Synopsis:

Steve Rogers is the last Alpha of the an almost extinct Lycan pack. With only less than 100 members left. Steve must produce an heir to ensure the species survival and reduce the chance of attacks from others. Omegas are rare, and betas have a hard time producing children. Steves reality is finally setting in as his obligation of producing an heir faces a major set back.

Reader is the last suitable omega to mate with Steve, due to the fear of her daughters fate in the pack, her mother kept her hidden from the pack after her own exile. Only her mother, and Bucky's family know of her existence. Bucky is Steve's right hand man, and the packs best warrior! He and the reader developed a friendship and bond over the years, but age forced them to become distant.

What happens when she presents and her first heat cycle comes? Her body is in excruciating pain and a strong fever quickly overcomes her body. Facing the fear of her daughters possible death, her mom calls on the only person who can save her at this point, Alpha Steve! Bucky and the alphas friendship will be tested. The reader will be faced with her love for Bucky or her duty to the pack.

Warnings: Mentions of death , A/B/O dynamics

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/user/gennyzoe/playlist/7xFIhRFa8o2Ae4QJpD1Hp9?si=gWsZ__YOQdKCS81X21jZqw

Chapter 4: I found

Hours had gone by! Bucky was caught of guard with the smell of fire. Faint...but distinct enough he knew it wasn’t his imagination. The chilled air dragged a whiff of the combined scents of fog, smoke, and very faintly in the background... HER!

She was close! He could feel it! This wasn’t new territory to him, but he wondered how she’d ended up hours from her home. He followed the wind, blowing ashes by his face. Leaving a trail, that called to him as if nature was guiding him to her. All the odds were against her tonight, but the forest smelled safe! It was like it protect her from the evil of the elements.

After a couple of minutes on the trail, it hit him! The smell blew the air out of his lungs, he approached the small faded fire with caution. Not wanting to scare her off. As he got closer he noticed her small frame. She was attempting to stand up, but doing so knocked her directly into the fading red embers of where a fire used to be.

The world disappeared for him at that moment! It was her! Just him and her!

And she smelled delicious! Everything is his being screaming to make her his in this very spot, and vanish with her. Nobody to find them! As long as she was there, there was nothing he’d want in this life or another! She was the trophy and the torture, that cursed through him. To love, but never poses. How could he even be thinking of love right now? He hadn’t even looked into her eyes yet.

What if she hated him?

What if she didn’t recognize him?

How was he gonna explain what’s going on to her? She has to know what her body wants right now, what it’s craving for her to do! And how much he wishes to not crave her in the same way.

He bolted to her with all his might, and caught her calling frame. As her eyes slowly faded into unconsciousness, peace resonated in her eyes. He’d dreamed of those eyes for years! And as her body went limp on his arms all he could do was hold her close and pray for the strength to keep her alive and safe... from himself!

She opened her eyes as they adjusted to the moonlight above her. Her body was covered in a warm flannel, she didn’t recognize the source of it.She remembered the eyes she saw before losing consciousness.

Had it all been a dream?

She felt like her limbs were on fire! They responded to every bit of stimulation the flannel was rubbing upon her body. She realized it wasn’t the flannel that was causing her body to jolt up at the feeling of touch; It was that it smelled like an alpha. Her body was trying to absorb as much of him as it could! She was unconsciously reacting to him and granting him access to her.

Hearing a branch break from behind the forest bush, she sprung up as quickly as her body allowed her to react and grabbed a beach from her side.

“Who’s there?” She was in full alarm, she also noticed the fire she had started had been reignited, and was fully blazing and strong!

“What do you want from me? And for the love of... “

She noticed that the reason she had the flannel on was for her own modesty, because underneath the flannel she was as naked as she was brought into the world.

“ Why am I naked? ”

Bucky noticed her panic as he approached the camp again. He’d gone out to get some more firewood and clay to dress her wounds. He wasn't expecting for her to be so recovered.

“I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean to startle you! I'm here to help.”

He put his arms up, to show her he wasn’t a threat, dropping the contest of his arms to the ground! “I was just getting us some more fire, and you need something for your wound... it doesn’t look good!” he fixed his hair back with one of his free hands, a nervous habit he had kept since childhood.

She furrowed her brow, and took a swing of the branch startling him and forcing him to step back. ” I bet you would you know what wound need tending to?” She replied with a cocky attitude! She imagined he would’ve had to look at her body while he took her clothes off, but the realization that her body was not in display contrition made her blush for a moment.

Ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks, and the small pit of embarrassment in the pit of her stomach. She put on a brave face! As he got closer her body reacted to his presence.

He was tall! Always had been, but despite the fact she’s grown since he last saw her, he still sported a good foot above her. She lowered her stance and let go of her makeshift weapon.

Taking a step back, she tripped, and stumbled back. Bucky tried catching her, but before he could he lost his own footing and tackled her body to the ground.

There she was!

Looking like a goddess underneath him, in a flannel, with her little confused doe eyes! She didn’t even try to fight him off. They just stared at each other's eyes, for a small eternity that what theirs to have.

They could both see their changing features, the fire’s light shone on Bucky to reveal his dark black hair. There were messy strays surrounding his face, but the rest was neatly tucked behind his ears. Stubble framed his face, and his jaw was the jaw of a man. It was also an awkward time to notice how much muscle he’d gained in the last 10 years. His body was solid on top of her, even through his shirt, his body told his story! He was a man of work! His body was that of a man who did hard labor, a man who was outside for long periods of time. Which was something she could tell as she noticed the tan in his upper neck had begun fading as the weather grew colder.

His muscles responded to her stare in ways she couldn’t pinpoint!

He on the other hand noticed her delicate face, the way she had grown into her childhood innocence and beauty. Her frame was so small and breakable compared to him. He for a moment thought he could easily crush her, and tried to ease his weight to make it lighter on her.

Her hair was gorgeously long! It surrounded her like a halo, fit for her like an angel. And her eyes where large and expressive. He could’ve read those eyes a million ways years ago, but now! He couldn’t help but wonder what they were trying to say.

He couldn’t stop himself as the word slipped from his lips.

“Doll!”

He placed his knee between her legs and pushed on the palm of his hands in an effort to lift his body weight off of her.

“Don’t call me that! Haven’t heard that in a long time”... she wiggled under his body and pushed him off her “ that name used to be special to me”

She tried to stand up, but a dizzy spell forced her to remain seated on the ground. Looking at his hurt expression a few more seconds that she wanted to.

“ I really missed you!” Her eyes filled with tears that threatened to roll down her cheek as she tried to stare forward, but he would still read her pained face. “ When you caught me. I thought I was dying! ..and you weren't real”

“ Im sorry! Im so sorry! I shouldn’t have left you just like that!”

He sat down next to her frame, he noticed how her body was shivering, even close to the fire. Her smell was spiking up. He knew that once morning came he’d have to rush her to Steve as soon as possible! But for now, he just wanted to enjoy her! Just enjoy her own smell one last time.

“I never stopped thinking about you!” He lowered his face to the palms of his hands. It was there when she noticed. One of his hands wasn't quite his. It was a lusterly metal, but it still radiated his energy, and warmth.

“I'm sorry too! I shouldn't have interrupted whatever it is you guys do in the village...” she was guarded! Her body tensed up as she talked, a knife in her words ” a lowlife like me getting lost... that’s what it took for you to care again” the tears began to fall, a combination of her hormones, and now shock!

Her body was changing and she couldn’t do anything about it, and now the ghost of her former best friend was back. She didn’t know how to process. She was stronger than this! Why was her body dissolving her to her nature?

Bucky wanted to embrace her! To say so many things, but nothing felt like enough to him.

“Listen now it’s not the time for... ” as he stood up he heard her let out a pain filled grunt. Her hand reached out to grab his thigh, as she doubled over to the ground in pain.

He quickly reacted to her pain, and kneeled down next to where she now laid doubled over on the cold moist ground.

“No, no ,no , no listen to me doll... you have to pull through!” He positioned his body as comfortably as he could for her “ I can’t help you... I’m not supposed to...”

He’d made a mistake! He’d coated her in his smell from the moment he held her in his arms. Her body was screaming for an alpha and it was only going to get worse till an alpha helps her body respond to it’s needs.

From the little life she had a few minutes ago, this little omega at his feet was shaking, and frail!

“I’m sorry, doll…” he looked around in distress “please just stay with me! We have to make it till morning! Please just look at me...tell me you’re alright! “ he cradled her small body and held her close to him.

As a strong wave of her scent hit his nostrils, and a small seizure overcame her body.

Bucky knew what he had to do!

But he wanted to make sure he had well enough exhausted all of his options. It would be selfish of him not to admit he wanted to help her.

“ Bucky... am I gonna die? ” she looked up at him with pained eyes, she was suffering! He used his shirt to wipe down the trails of blood exiting her nose. He wanted to help her so badly! She was nuzzled up against his body, shivering and looking more lifeless by the moment.

Her body was rejecting her omega change!

Bucky knew the fever wasn’t a good sign! But with the seizures that were now overtaking her body every few minutes, it was confirmed to him that she was moments away from collapsing upon herself. An alpha made an omega stronger! It was in their nature!

She needed an alpha !

As he held her in the heart of the forest, illuminated by the light of the moonlight, he could see the teardrops of red leave her eyes. Tears the color of fire!

And when the moon was above then at its brightest, Bucky looked up at the sky, and then down at her “Im sorry doll! I'm about to let you down one more time... I hope you can forgive me one day” as he exposed her neck to him, her untouched mating gland on full display to him.He carefully extracted his canines, and like a soft kiss, he bit her!

He knew Steve wasn’t going to be happy, and quite frankly he was even more scared of her finding out he’d taken away her choice!

Tag list: @austynparksandpizza @nerdgirljen @exposition-belongs-somewhere @connie326 @patzammit @blessedwedgie

[ephemerlskies]

constant craving 04 (final) | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

⇢ genre: “drabble” series, best friends to lovers au, slight angst, FLUFF, bestfriend!au, unrequited love, smarter idiots but still idiots all the same

⇢ word count: 6.8k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol, excessive drinking (drink responsibly), pining, jungkook is an overdramatic baby, a surplus of feelings (i am disgusted with myself), one (1) fire hazard

⇢ summary: with the Friendiversary approaching quickly, both you and Jungkook have an array of trials to navigate through. and, as Seokjin gets caught in the crossfires, you must finally make a decision that will define how the rest of your life will unfold. 

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: wow.... so bitches really call this a drabble series then write a 6 thousand word finale... its me im bitches... anywho, i really love the way this played out!! jungkook had to hit the bottom to start rising to the top and it shows. also, the ending is like....... hehe well ill just let you all see for yourselves. enjoy my lovely readers! this wrapped up such a heartfelt series that is so dear to my heart. thank you all for the support for this! and i might whip up a few drabbles simply because i think this relationship is really cute hehe ok... happy reading! <3

part four: i love you too

Carrying that music box in his pocket felt like a well-deserved and all too grim reminder of what went down a few days ago. Sitting drunk yet again, though one would best describe Jungkook’s posture as more of a sloven pile of flesh and bones withering away on a bar stool, he searched for the wallet which was in one of his four pockets.

He reached for the wrong one. Instead of the faux leather skimming his skin, it was a solid wood corner pricking the pad of his index finger. It stung more than it should have. Perhaps he'd gotten a splinter, or the top layer of his skin was simply too raw from all the wear and tear of your fight. Jungkook wasn’t one to jump at such negligible shocks, but it sank him back into that night. It wasn't the wooden corner at all.

You loved him. You still love him.

That's what you said. That's what nearly put him on the floor instead of in his chair, and what had been preying on his mind as if he were no different than a helpless animal drowning his regrets in whiskey. And he knew he should have said it back. 

Jungkook theorized ways to defy the cruel restraints of time, and if the universe would be so kind as to allow him to travel back to that day in middle school when he happened upon a scared, flush-faced student running so fast and panicked that they bumped into each other, just to be the one who said 'I love you' first. Or those genies and shooting stars and blessed fountains that supposedly granted wishes; he would pay no hesitation to plead with whatever deity would listen and permit his most prioritized desire. 

The retrospective bargaining remained a ghost haunting just about every waking moment of his life. Though, he had not been quite sure if said ghost was some cosmic sent presence or simply his own guilt. If regret took on physical ramifications, then Jungkook would have been convinced that was why he felt as if his legs wouldn't have been able to carry him even if he tried.

If I could just go back to that night with the knowledge I know now, I would have hauled my ass to your house instead of that club and told you that my choice was made for me the moment I met you. Every other person I ended up with these past twelve years was simply a buffer for loving you. I had to prepare myself, because loving you was something entirely too tremendous for a boy still grappling with his own faulty speech pattern to assume.

I wish you knew that. I wish I didn’t stand there like an idiot and let you leave, thinking me some hero for finally letting this new guy Seokjin take the place I had always imagined being in. I wish I had just said that I love you.

I love you.

I love you, ___.

Jungkook’s vision resembled that of a smudged lens. However, there were no fingerprints on his eyes. The world had turned blurry and colorless, the latter he knew was not due to the sixth order of whiskey he let soak into his heart’s open wound. 

A life of color was one of the many things that left when you did.

He didn’t know it then, but Jungkook was being fervently dramatic since it had not been more than seventy-two hours the last time he spoke to you. Thought to him, it was akin to being just short of death and taking another breath would have been an expense he wasn’t sufficiently funded to pay. 

Whatever happened in the interim of him paying his tab and walking out onto the sidewalk must have landed somewhere in the blacked out stretches of his inebriated memory, since he was now staring at your contact gleaming on his phone bearing the semblance of one guardian angel.

It was so ingrained into his routine. Opening the app with the phone icon, clicking the ‘recent’ tab, and finding your name no further than three contacts down the list because he called you as if he had important things to tell you, though normally it was just to hear your voice or to tell you about what he had for lunch. And it nestled into his muscle memory as natural as it was for him to breathe or blink. Even when alcohol debilitated his driving, walking, and thinking, his body was drawn to seek a haven such as yourself. And he nearly pressed ‘call’.

Before the comfort of your voice could ring through to his phone, reality descended upon that reflex. Right now, you were probably with Seokjin, attending some pretentious art gallery for one of his colleagues.

It was just Jungkook and the night sky and the moon that he hoped you were gazing at too; it would be the only connection to you as of now. The moon, a parcel for the most longing gazes.

There are stories where the two protagonists get it right. This was not that story. That reality stung more than the residual burn of whiskey clinging along his throat.

Both you and Jungkook made every wrong decision possible. From the moment you subjected yourself to exploiting the veneer of being a ‘good friend’ to disguise any true feelings that might have taken light, to the moment Jungkook was presented with all the excruciatingly obvious signs that you were in love with him, but was simply too inept to notice, to the both of you neglecting any urge threatening the bounds of platonic. Any path that would have steered to a destination where you two would get that happy ending was conveniently untaken.

And you had a long journey riddled with heartbreak after heartbreak to prove it.

He traded his phone with that wooden music box, scuffing the soles of his shoe as he walked back home, hoping he’d be able to give the gift to you on your Friendiversary.

-----

Your pain was still raw. In this way, you had not considered, or rather avoided the idea of tending to such delicate wounds. The days leading up to the infamous anniversary had been spent hoping you would organically heal enough to allow the presence of Jungkook while denying another reopening in your wound.

You had been juggling a not so thrilling number of conflicts the three days preceding that self-acclaimed national holiday.

One, Seokjin and his bottomless supply of invitations that you felt too obligated to refuse. He had such a life packed with plans which is more than you could have said for Jungkook. He, most likely, busied himself with promoting ranks in some obscenely violent video game. Two, a mutual friend of yours had told you Seokjin was fixing to make your relationship official this coming Friday, and you didn’t want to admit the lackluster reaction upon hearing the news was equivalent to receiving a C on a test. It wasn't the worst grade to receive, but you knew there would always be something better than adequacy. Not satisfying enough nor disappointing enough to be dealt with without bending a few expectations. And three, all you really wanted, the only agent of excitability (both good and bad) that diluted the festering numbness in your heart just a tad more, was thinking about seeing Jungkook on your Friendiversary.

But with that excitement, was its equally worrying constituent: whether or not you would be able see Jungkook that day without cracking under pressure.

Things weren’t exactly attuned between the two of you. Your emotional stature had never been more unsynchronized and offkey with Jungkook’s, so, forcing a celebratory movie or dinner would be no different than adding cornstarch to the already thick tension.

“___? Are you listening?” Everything Seokjin had just been droning on about filtered in and out without a single word being absorbed, and you could have pretended this wasn't the case but  stress had apprehended caring enough to lie.

“Sorry… No, I wasn't. I’m just stressed is all.” Since that was only a half lie, self-admonition had not yet taken permanent residency whenever you would look at Seokjin’s eyes offering nothing but genuine tact.

“Oh, sorry to hear! Are you okay? Anything you wanna talk about?” That, and the soft press of his hand over yours had swallowed you into a perpetual, guilty cycle of comparing two incomparable people.

Seokjin was always like this. Serving a gentle smile and honest ears as a vessel of calmness during whatever calamity you were grappling. It was safe knowing if you fell, you’d have a comfortable cushion to soften the impact. He was mindful with his words and had the intelligence to articulate them with impressive eloquence. You were more likely to see pigs fly than to see him stutter. He had a diverse group of friends and walked a steady path to a financially secure life. And you started to wonder what else one would need in a partner? Any sensible person would do much more than you had to snag someone like Seokjin, as handsome as he was kind and respectful. He seemed to have everything Jungkook lacked, including mutual feelings for you.

It would have been entirely too easy to pick him, as if there was a ‘Seokjin’ button and a ‘Jungkook’ button and you could press Seokjin’s on a whim. If choosing him would have meant miraculous nullification of all your very real and very unremitting feelings for that idiot you called your best friend, then you would have done it in a heartbeat.

There wasn't a 'Seokjin' button or a 'Jungkook' button, nor was there a button that would wondrously redistribute your feelings towards Seokjin.

And then there was Jungkook. Always in the back of your mind when he wasn't tenanting the focus of it.

He was never predictable in the ways that mattered. It was just as difficult figuring out his next move as figuring out whether this trait was exciting or exhausting.

Though, this had not been to say you didn’t know him well; in fact, all his habits and preferences and pet peeves could be bound into a book, written by you, and it would be so accurate anyone who read it would think it was an autobiography. He knew you to the same caliber. Where Seokjin would ask what was wrong, Jungkook wouldn’t need to. He already learned your behavior to know to say something along the lines of ‘tell me what’s wrong when you're ready, we can watch your favorite movie or swing by that Chinese place with those great fried dumplings in the meantime’. And on more favorable occasions, he'd say nothing and simply wrap you in his arms and let his shirt become a delta for your tears.

To anyone else, that might sound entirely too frank and perhaps a bit dismissive to be comforting, but to you it was the exact cure for each affliction. To never need explanations that would validate your feelings because Jungkook saw to that right when he took notice; to never manufacture fake smiles through failed attempts at cheering you up since, of course, he knew exactly what to do to vegetate joy in your heart and earn a smile from years and years —and years— of practice. It had almost driven you mad, thinking about how he knew from a shift in your brow what you were feeling and yet, somehow, never realized how deeply in love you were.

All the while, the moment you were convinced you had been versed fluently in his every move, he would pawn another blindsight that would leave you breathless and amazed all the same. Jungkook always had concealed tricks up his sleeve, and life was anything but repetitive with him. You would more often than not find yourself struggling to relearn language and existing itself just to keep up with him. How exactly he managed to wield such diametric facets of being was an enigma beyond the reasoning of this universe.To feel like home, somewhere you belonged outside of your own body, and a daring voyage into a completely new world all at once must have meant he was some sort of Godsend. Only angels could have sculpted a soul so magnetizing, you assumed.

Seokjin was an umbrella, shielding you on some arcane journey under an unforgiving rainfall. Your shoes kept dry and your hair intact.

And if he was the umbrella, then Jungkook was the rain. Falling everywhere and all at once, so that you couldn't help but let yourself be saturated in his entire, vibrant being. And who’s to say letting such a water fall against your skin was a bad thing? Sometimes rain is cleaning, gentle even. They bear fruits as beautiful as rainbows that guide you to an unnamed treasure.

Your treasure, however, had a name.

Jungkook calling.

"___? Hello? You in there?" Seokjin waved his hand in front of your face mostly in a jesting manner, but part of him felt like your eyes were blinded by something held in your heart. If he hadn’t pulled you back into reality, you might have been lost forever.

“I'm just…” Your attention had abandoned this conversation the second his name gave light to your screen. “Sorry, um…”

“It's okay, you can take the call. I’ll be in the kitchen making us some coffee.”

If you were to thank him profusely, it would have been far too obvious how much you missed seeing his name among your notifications, and most likely expose how often you spent thinking of Jungkook while you were supposed to be enthralled with Seokjin. So, you just nodded and answered the phone.

Nodding and answering, as though that didn't feel like taking a breath of clean air after hours of swimming through muddied waters.

“Hello? ___?”

“Jungkook.” It took you longer than usual to form a response and what was assembled had been a half-baked utterance just to let him know you were on the other side of the phone, hearing his voice and feeling a surge of energy course through your veins like he was some delicious narcotic filling life into you after only a week without him.

“___.” Jungkook was in his own debt of words as well. The exchange halted for a few seconds, a jaded breathing cutting the cracked static.

“Look-”

“Hey so-”

Any hope that you had finally caught up to the same page as Jungkook was lost. Now, it seemed you two were reading entirely different books.

“You go.” You said after another dreadful pause. He was the one who called, so he should be the one carrying the burden of navigating through this deafening tension.

“Well, I- uh… I… Well, you see I was just, um, wondering…” Jungkook’s heart must have shut off. That would explain why even the most rudimentary of words felt closer to a foreign language. Or, why he was making conscious efforts to counteract the threat of his nearly dormant lisp.

His brain was drained dry of any blood, his inner mechanisms were shutting down. Even without the alcoholic filter catching words and common sense in its web, Jungkook felt himself fall into an overactive state of dumbfoundedness. Sobriety only a cataract for his emotional override. 

“Our friendiversary?”

“I’m sorry, I did not understand literally anything you just said.”

“Me neither.”

The charming and familiar laugh that spilled through the speaker reminded you that Jungkook was in fact a real person. Not some figmented embodiment of every lost and unrequited and tortuous feeling you had been suppressing for twelve years. Jungkook was real, his laugh and everything else you loved about him were all so incredibly real. And more importantly, the pure joy you felt was real; a permanent serialization of his. Your smiles and his smiles had always surfaced in tandem.

Now, you both were laughing. Neither were warranted by his messy attempt at forming a coherent sentence. The weight of discomfort shedding from your shoulders had been partnered with a slew of relieved chuckles.

“Anyway, um. I- I still wanna see you on our Friendiversary. Or, at least give you your gift.” Admitting that was terrifying but the thought of breaking the consecutive streak of eleven years simply because he was too much of a coward to admit he wanted to see you dizzied him. However, the thought of spending your friendiversary alone terrified him beyond comprehension. So, he thought not about that as a possibility; he carved an opening to his heart in hope you wouldn’t send sharp thorns of rejection into it.

“Yeah, I, uh. I still wanna see you too. I mean, it is a national holiday. We gotta have holiday spirit, right?” You were forcing playful banter, it felt like lemon juice scouring cuts on your tongue, but you were so desperate to make things between you two feel normal.

“You’re right! So, um… You can come over tomorrow night. I’ll set up a surprise or whatever.” He seemed to have fallen back into stride with pre-confession Jungkook. Trying to keep up with him now would just exhaust you of all your means, so you chose to save the rest for tomorrow night. Even if that meant watching him walk away to some unforeseeable finish line; his back, the last part of him you’d see until you could finally collect your broken pieces and start walking as well.

“Sounds good! I’ll, um, see you then.”

“See you, ___.”

You had no idea, and how could you, that Jungkook was now wiping small clusters of wetness from the bed of his eyelids. Why he thought you, the one person that remained a constant in his life, would say no to him over one fight (of many) made for quite the spill of tears. But if you did know, you would have told him you felt like crying too.

"Hey! How did everything go?" You were so immersed in your virtual conversation with Jungkook you nearly forgot the person you were presently with. The train of guilt wouldn't stop for your pathetic attempts at disembarking.

"Oh! Thanks for the coffee." You sipped, and it had just been a stall to blink away the tears that were straying beyond your will of concealment. "It went good. We're still celebrating our Friendiversary."

"Friendiversary?" Seokjin's light chuckle veiled his tense concern.

"Yeah... Uh, it's just this thing we do to celebrate our friendship. The day we met."

"Oh... that's..." His eyes were scaling the rim of his mug.

"That's what, Seokjin?" You were stern, knowing well enough it was born of far more than platonic defensiveness. And you had no right to be the one prosecuting him since you clearly had more to hide than meets the eye.

"I mean, it's just interesting how dedicated you are to an anniversary with a friend." Seokjin wielded that soft-spoken voice which made it difficult to be anything but patient with him. And from the tone of it, he seemed to have no ill intentions with that statement, though it had not been an entirely innocent observation. To you, however, it felt like he might as well have set you on fire.

"Interesting? What is that supposed to even mean? I mean, we've been friends for twelve years. I- I don't know why people are always so judgmental." Your arms crossed over your chest, hoping he would take notice how much his comment slighted you. If asked, you would have insisted you would have been this worked up over any of your friends. Though you knew well enough this was untrue, and it made you feel even worse acting as though Seokjin was the one at fault here.

"I'm sorry. I'm not judging you, really. I just... I just have never heard of two friends doing something like that so religiously."

You sighed out all your anger, knowing the way you snapped at him was merely misdirected frustration. "No, I'm sorry. I know it's kinda weird."

"Look, I get it. You guys are close. But, ___, you talk about him so much that half, no, over half of your stories include him. We've been dating for, what, barely a week now, and I know more about this Jungkook guy than I know about you, and I haven't even met him."

Lips parted, ready to dispatch another slew of defenses to refute all the things he said. It was more disappointing than it was shocking to find nothing but a long sigh emerging. Because he was right. Jungkook has been interwoven so thoroughly in your last twelve years that if you only told the stories without him in it, then it would be the least accurate and nondescript retelling of your life. Fragments of an unfinished novel. It would miss the most crucial pieces, entire chapters, of your story.

You would have been presenting a shell of you, hollow and one dimensional. All the inner parts of you, the lungs and veins and tissue that gave you life and made you whole belonged solely with Jungkook.

That's why you sat there, blank faced, foolishly waiting for the words that wouldn't come to your aid because you had no place to contend with him.

"Seokjin... I'm with you..." It's all that would come up your throat, and it felt like acid. You were sure it burned his ears when he heard them more than it had your throat.

It hadn’t even been partially true. Physically you were with him, but in your head you were sitting on your couch with Jungkook, consuming a concerning amount of junk food while chatting through a movie used more as background noise than entertainment.

"Okay. Does that mean you don't have feelings for him?"

"Well..."

"Can you confidently say you could replace all the time you spend with him with time you would spend with me?" Seokjin must have noticed your returning tears because he loosened his verbal grip from your throat. To you, it sounded like he was pacifying you for some horrible sin, to anyone else it sounded as though he was simply trying to dredge up feelings that would disrupt the chance of a relationship between you and him. "___, I like you. I really do, but in all honesty, I'm looking for something serious. I think we would be great together, but only if you don't have any feelings left for him."

"Seokjin..." You regretted looking at him.

Sweetness was strewn in his eyes and gentle smile. Seokjin was softer than cotton, which made the real threat, the rough sandpaper wearing away skin and bones, you. It made it all the more painful to know you had been keeping everything you felt for Jungkook hidden from Seokjin. Though, if one would have presented an objective point of view, your feelings were far from secretive. And the most brutal honesty was that you knew feelings for Seokjin were never in your attainability. Not the way they always had been for Jungkook.

He was the wrong person who crossed paths with you at the right moment. A mere convenience. And you knew he deserved much more than what you had to offer.

"And maybe I'm being an idiot, but I like you too much to give you some ultimatum which would put you in such an unfair position. So, I'll let you think this over." His compassion felt more like a sharp blow to your chest. “No pressure.”

If he hadn’t smiled like he did, then you would have broken up with him right then and there. It was not possible to rip away such tender hope away from a smile so sweet.

"I'm sorry." You meant the remorse behind those words and it still hadn’t amounted to a proper consolation. "I'm sorry. I guess... I guess I'll go... Seokjin?”

“Yes?” He replied quickly, and you knew only a pace that rapid was one brought on by a sliver of faith that you might have made your decision right then.

“You’re a really great person. You deserve the world.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t give him what he wanted. And as bitter and unkind as that might have felt at the moment, it was the only bit of truth and relent you could have offered him.

-----

In your bed, sleep became somewhat of an abstract desire. You knew your rest was deprived from you when the digital clock on your bedside told you it was six hours past the time you'd normally fall asleep. It was because you really did have a choice to make now.

To choose Seokjin, and know you'd collapse in the safety of his reciprocated affection, though haunted by how you would never feel the fullest extent of content. And you would live with that until resentment and distance wedged irreversible damage in your relationship.

Or, to choose Jungkook, which would catapult you into a depth so dark and tenuous that you would have no idea whether you'd meet gentle snow or hard, deadly concrete when you landed. And maybe you'd never land at all; maybe you would be caught in a state of falling down and down forever, until your beating heart eventually stilled.

Which one was worth it? Which were you willing to risk? These were the questions that kept you awake.

The hours leading to your undisclosed celebration events with Jungkook ceased being actual points of your existence and merely obstructions that you had to plow through in order to arrive at some conclusive moment. Something that might give you an answer to all your questions. Something that might have released you from devotedly checking your phone for a Jungkook patented text or call.

You were turning into a half-being. Someone who could only inhale a full breath, laugh an intentional laugh, and sleep a soundless sleep when their other half was there.

If you thought being in love with Jungkook for your entire friendship was pathetic, then you couldn’t fathom what you had become now.

Standing in front of his door, the same one you lugged him to that night he was too drunk to balance on his feet, when you willingly carried all the weight he couldn’t, when your lips became acquainted and comfortable with his within half a beat, you felt as if this chunk of wood was mocking you. A partition barricading you from Jungkook. Your Jungkook. The man you always felt you were on the outskirts of, with only a window to peer into his unreadable mind. And that was enough for you ―until now.

Now you were going to knock on that door with your hand, make him open it for you, and walk into his home. You would be the one to step foot inside of the very structure that only solicited closed doors and immovable walls and fogged windows. And you would leave behind your timidity, every feeling and urge that left you with disappointing compromises for the sake of maintaining this friendship.

You would be selfish, and he would finally feel a mere glimpse of what you have always felt for the best and worst of your life.

Even when he opened the door, arming a smile that actively disarmed you, this home of his was yours to conquer. This was your time to act for you alone, despite how many smiles he sent your way. You had not any weapons or shields or an infantry for a clutch. You just had your heart and all the love it carried. 

“Hey! ___, you look… You look great.” There was no real incentive for him to censor how he truly thought you looked. Immeasurably beautiful. It was simply his own nerves impeding on the feelings that were too intense to express without it being followed by an entire soliloquy of I love you’s.

“Thanks... You too...” You could almost feel the words brimming in your and Jungkook’s mouth, carrying such raw emotions and longing intentions.

"I'm really glad that- Jungkook..." Walking into his house punctuated what you were about to say.

His living room was strewn with enough candles to steal the last of your words and to consider his house a fire hazard. That didn't negate this lovely sea of lights to be anything but romantic and thoughtful. A bit cluttered, and not at all perfect, but it must have taken Jungkook hours to set up every wax column. The thoughtfulness of this gesture would have astonished you had it not been for the consistency of Jungkook snatching your breath and words away whenever he tried. It was antithetical, the way you expected his surprises. Yet, always surprised all the same.

Unpredictable, completely surrounding you just like the rain.

"I had to turn off my fire detector but... Worth it." Jungkook considered the number of mishaps that could have dampened any chance of this being romantic.

A candle could tip over and set his entire place ablaze, the wax could leak onto his carpet and tabletops, damaging his furniture and savings for replacements, you and he could have suffocated from all the fumes steaming from the wick. But if that look on your face didn't feel like the only bit of revival to keep his heart's steady beating, if your eyes didn’t look as though it was the only set of eyes that shed beauty into this world then he wouldn't have used up exactly three lighters to pull this stunt. But it did, and he felt warmth and color return to every inch of his body.

He would have used hundreds of lighters to ignite thousands of candles if that meant an ounce of happiness from you. He wanted to say that, but he knew the candles said it for him.

The spectacle almost made you forget why you were here in the first place. It almost made you forget the resolve you managed to gather before entering. And then he said your name.

"___."

The letters flowing from his lips as if they could only be pronounced by his tongue. It sounded so good. So good, that if anyone else were to say it then it wouldn't have been your name at all. It would have sounded wrong, sullied. And it wasn't supplied by neat articulation, this new belonging of your name in his mouth. The need for him to sculpt your name into this world was more than that. "I will never forgive myself if I don't get this out while I still can."

"Jungkook, what is all this?" You didn't know why you felt a collection of tears brimming along your eyes, but you didn't care to figure it out. Perhaps you felt an influx of feelings, an abundance too heavy for your body to seal within the confines of your emotional seams, so they overflowed in the form of tears. This certainly had not been the first time you cried over Jungkook, but you had never cried over him like this.

"___, I love you!" Jungkook said loudly. It was just you and him who could hear, but it felt as though he wanted the entire world to know.

"What? I- You- What?" Your lack of verbal poise was indicative of your love for him once again taking the reins of your mind and heart. Words were a luxury you couldn't afford as of now. You just had to feel everything you were feeling until the rainstorm settled. The hope that he would spare you some remnants of fluency was far along, and you weren't too sure if what Jungkook was about to say would be gentle enough to leave you with any words at all.

"I love you. I don't know why I didn't know it sooner. Or maybe, I- Maybe I did know?" Jungkook sighed at his own ineloquence. "I'm stupid! That's it. That's my only excuse. I'm so stupid. The way I felt about you, the way I still feel about you, is something I thought all best friends had. I thought everyone felt like the moments they weren't spending with their best friends just felt like filler moments. Like, every day I spent without you was just a span of time I had to wait out until I see you again. Like every damn moment of my life is spent waiting for you. And if I don't end up with you then... then I'll never stop waiting."

"Jungkook, I-" He prevailed in surprising you, taking words and breath and thoughts all at once.

"And, I'm that stupid! I really thought all best friends had those moments when they stare at you, and- and-" Now, you weren't the only one with wet eyes and cheeks. "And I just feel like looking at you and being with you just makes me better. It makes me a better person, or something, and it makes me feel like... Like I'll never get hurt again. And even if I do get hurt, I know it's you I want to be there. I know that whenever something bad happens to you, or when you feel like crying or when you're happy or angry or anything that I want to be the one who gets to be by your side. When I look at you, all I want is to love you. To love all your pain away."

"You really mean that?"

"Yes! God, I love you." You didn't notice how it happened, but Jungkook's arms became a shield around you. Inside his arms you were indestructible. Your hands pressed against his cheeks, memorizing the plush, smooth skin. The world could hurl all the fire and ice it had, but it wouldn’t matter. "___, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. I'm sorry that in that period, I hurt you. Please, forgive me. I love you, and I want to be with you."

"Of course, I forgive you. I... I can't believe this." Hearing everything you always wanted from him was drastically different when it was actually unfolding. It was a million times more than any hope or dream you used as a salve for your longing. It was everything.

"Maybe it took so long because I was afraid. Because the idea of loving you was something I wasn't ready for. Even though I did love you, God, who was I to take on something as fragile and crucial as loving you. I know I probably would have messed it up. And, fuck, maybe I'm messing it up right now. But I just needed it to be perfect. I needed loving you to be perfect because I don't want to give you anything less than that."

"You were always enough for me, Jungkook. More than enough. You were and are everything to me" His arms that pressed you further into him expressed how happy that made him. 

"But I'm not perfect yet. I might mess up... A lot. No, I'll definitely mess up. I don't know if I can offer you perfect yet. But I do know that through everything I have never stopped loving you and I will never stop loving you."

"Jungkook... I don't know what to say." Your thumb grazed a falling tear from his face. Jungkook had not cried often in front of you; and you could tally up the amount of times he had on your fingers alone. But when he did, it was still as beautiful as when he was smiling or laughing or even scowling.

"You could say you love me back." You did. You loved him, his smile that was currently on a mission to melt your heart, his arms that carried both the good and bad parts of you, his wit that you always relished in. All the reasons to love him were an endless flowing river. If you were lucky enough, you would catch a glimpse of each beautiful current and be able to give name to the gravity that pulled you into him.

"I love you too, you idiot." The last word caught in your throat because your lips were being kissed instead.

His lips. Warm and exciting, allotting your being with an infinite devotion of his. And it was more than you could have ever hoped for.

It felt like fire. Like a grove of candles encapsulating the origin of heat. You and Jungkook, holding each other so close, you could have become one. Hot and all-consuming of anything in its path. If one stood too close, they would suffer scorching embers that stray from the orange pyres. Seokjin, Irene, and any other unassuming casualty that had the misfortune of stepping between the two of you, harboring the burn scars to remind them of what fumed from their interference.

Every element concocting between you and him was that of a bright flame, cremating pure metals and wet woods and thick forests alike.

You were in his home. His arms and lips and hands told you it was your home as well. All that time spent wondering why you could never slip inside before was never because he didn't want to let you in. And the thing is, you never thought to knock until now. You sat outside in a silenced hope that he would voluntarily open that door for you. But unknown to you, Jungkook seemed to be waiting as well. Waiting in a large room with empty spaces where you belonged and where he kept reserved for your residence alone.

He waited even when he wasn't quite sure of who he was waiting for, or if you would ever actually spill your warmth into his home. He waited until his fingers turned to ice and his eyes fell to exhaustion, for you to walk inside.

"So, you're like my boyfriend now?" Your voice brushed against his smiling lips.

"Yeah, your boyfriend, or whatever."

"You know this means you have to top next year's friendiversary. And I mean, all these candles? That's gonna be tough." It could have counted as sensory overload, the feeling of his palms flush against your back, the tip of his nose grazing yours, the bright array of candles illuminating the room. But you were so, incredibly cold without him that this felt like solace to you.

"When have I ever disappointed you?" Jungkook regretted what came out of his mouth too late to stop himself from saying it.

"Oh, I couldn't count the amount of times on my fingers alone! What about that time you forgot our chains for the tires on our trip to the mountains? We almost died." His eye roll only encouraged you to continue. Maybe, if you were lucky, he'd equip that cute pout whenever he wanted his way. "Or what about when you swore you brought water, but three miles in on our hike you had that look on your face. You know I reminded you to get water and you swore you did. Or what about-"

"Okay! I get it! I fuck up, jeez." He scrunched his nose, his eyes waning into crescents courtesy of that grin of his. You counted the number of wrinkles along the bridge of his nose as you always did, though you had acquired an expertise in the geography of his face. Each line and angle and ridge were now and eternally yours to restudy and marvel. "Hey, uh, almost forgot."

He reached into his front left pocket. "I, um, kept carrying it around thinking I'd see you somewhere. Kinda dumb right?"

"Not dumb." You opened the tiny box, wound the handle until the spring felt tight and you could see the throngs prick the textured wheel, and it was one of those moments where you didn't see a gift in your hand. You simply saw his thought and sentiment manifested as a box of wood that sung a tune.

All the things Jungkook wanted to give you, the sun and the moon and the entire universe were not his to give. So for now, he settled for this music box and there would be a day when he would collect each celestial being and place them right into your hands. Maybe then, he would feel less of a debt for possessing such a love like yours.

"This is... I love it. Thank you, Jungkook." You smiled, but it was motivated in the hopes he would smile back. You thought he deserved that much, at least. And he did.

"Sooooo... Can I tell Seokjin that you're actually in love with me and that he sucks ba-"

"Um, absolutely not!" As always, his crudeness and slight inability to remain mature for too long only wedged you deeper in love.

So, terribly in love. Your state of constant craving for Jeon Jungkook had been left barren. That desolate, solitary province was no longer yours to take residence in.

You had a home now. And you had no need to crave Jungkook anymore. He was right here, holding you.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

a/n: okay, cry with me.... these two.... such hopeless saps for each other i'm here for it. final destination is simp city... also (spoiler) it is completely canon that irene and seokjin bond over their mutual heartbreaks and get to smitten hehehe. anyway, my loves i hope you enjoyed this finale as much as i enjoyed writing it!!! it was a short but heartfelt journey with these two and i will miss their idiocy sm. thank u for your endless support i love u all!!! <3

[ducklettwrites]

DST Zine Tryout Fic: “Caught in the Rain”

Now Available on Ao3

Fandom: Don’t Starve (Together) Characters: Wormwood, WX-78 Pairing: Wormwood & WX-78 (meant as platonic but can be read as romantic I guess) Description: Wormwood is a good friend. Author’s Notes: My tryout piece for the next Constantly Obsessed Don’t Starve Zine. I’ve been wanting to write something sweet between Wormwood and WX-78 for a while. My headcanon going into this is that System Overload must be pretty overwhelming, and can lead to some not so great effects if the sanity gets too low because of it.   Minor trigger warning: there is depiction of a panic attack and minor self harm. Don’t worry, it all turns out okay.

Springtime was the closest Wormwood got to being on his lonesome again. He sighed. The ceaseless rain pelting against his tent. The small makeshift camp was illuminated slightly under the glow of a lantern. He wasn't sure if being in his tent meant the darkness monster couldn't get him, but he wasn't willing to take that chance either. At least this isolation was voluntary he supposed.

He knew how he got during the Spring. His bloom cycle didn't make him the best company. The buzz bugs became attracted to him and weren't exactly friendly to the friends he had back at the camp. A minor, though painful, nuisance to most, including Wormwood. They were a bit more fatal to the newest friend he had made this past Winter season; and he wasn't keen on being the reason for any of his friend's death. So he settled a deal with them to tend the farm further away from camp. They'd come every few days to pick up the fruits of his plant friends and bring him supplies. He'd be able to come back around Summer, when he'd be needed to keep the plants friends at camp from succumbing to the heat. He hoped book friend would be able to take care of them until then.

A crack of lightning shook the tent and Wormwood blinked into the starless sky. Rain batted against the budding flower at the tip of his stalk. He wouldn't be gone from his friends forever, just for a while. Still, it didn't mean he didn't miss them, quite a bit actually. For this reason, when he started to hear the somewhat familiar sound of metal clanking against metal, he thought it was just in his mind. When his head began to hurt, he could have a whole lot of things just happening in his mind. But his head didn't hurt; he felt fine. So, why did he still hear it?

He stepped from the tent, grasping the lantern tightly with his leaf hands. "Hello? Who there?" He called into the dark.

The sound of rain and the continued clanking of metal was his only response.

Wormwood moved closer to the sound. From between the shadows of the rain and dark was a glow. A halo of light accompanied by two glowing eyes peered directly at him. He blinked, confused. "Robot...friend?" He questioned why, of all his friends, would the robot come to him, this late, and in the middle of a storm.

But he was correct in his recognition. WX-78 caught Wormwood's gaze and returned the look with the same wide blank eyes they usually had. Except, something about them seemed... off. They glowed from head to toe and extra special light came from their eyes. There was a noticeable hum to them now that Wormwood stood closer to them. Though their face betrayed no emotion, every fiber of his being screamed that something was wrong with his friend.

At first he moved to hug them, embrace them and make it all better. But then he remembered that robot friend had explicitly told him that they hated hugs. He stopped before touching their casing. There was a sensation of electric energy pulsing off of them. A moment of silence passed between them, where he was frozen, too scared to make a move.

Then a shudder of electric energy worked its way up the robot. Wormwood jumped back with a start. A pained screech indicated that it was anything but painless. WX-78 was shaking now, gripping their head and shuttering their eyes.

"Let's get friend back to dry." Wormwood was careful not to touch the robot, instead using his arm to try and lead them back toward his camp.

They reluctantly followed. The trek back wasn't long, just wet. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and WX flinched at the noise.

"Not far now..." Wormwood said sympathetically "almost there, friend."

WX nodded with a creak.

The camp was in sight. Wormwood led the trembling robot to his tent. They eased their way down, sitting in front of the entrance. He set the lantern in front of them outside and moved to rummage through a nearby chest. For once he was happy that choppy friend and his friend killer had stopped by. He pulled the hunks of dead trees from the chest and tossed them onto the firepit. The resulting blaze made Wormwood jump a little. He returned to the chest to pull out an orange vest before walking back to the tent.

With the fire going, WX was settling at the entrance of the tent. They stretched out, sparks flying from their joints where water had seeped in. Wormwood settled next to them and handed over the vest. He watched as the robot donned the outfit silently. By far it was their silence which worried Wormwood the most. He had known WX long enough to know that they should’ve been complaining by now. They had always been outspoken.

"What happened to robot friend?" He wasn't used to having to make the first words in their conversations.

They hadn't stopped shaking completely. Their fists clenched and unclenched as they had to force the words to come out. It looked like quite the struggle. "LIGHT...ING." was all they could manage.

Wormwood nodded, trying to force down his own feeling of unease for the sake of a friend. He did remember that there was something about lightning that robot friend talked about; and he assumed that must've been what they were trying to tell him now. "Do you hurt?"

Another struggle, this time they could barely manage more than a few sputters and creaks. Their expression darkened. Metal fingers clawed at the side of their temples and Wormwood could now see noticeable scratches begin to form in their casing.

It was a quick reaction. He reached out and grabbed their hands away from their head. A jolt of electricity stung him but he maintained his hold. He could feel their shaking continue beneath his grasp. He looked them in the eyes and they returned the gaze. "Does head hurt?" He tried to sound firm, hoping they didn't notice how scared for them he really was.

They didn't even try to speak this time, just nodded and dropped their gaze to the ground.

Wormwood squeezed their hands gently to get them to look at him again. "It okay, friend." He said softly. He wished he hadn't used that green mushroom in the crockpot today, but at least he had one other way to fix his friend's low sanity. "Sleep." He gave the order gently, but was clearly not to be disobeyed.

WX didn't seem to be in the mood for arguing as they obediently lay down next to the plant. He settled himself in. Sitting up to watch guard until his friend woke in the morning.

"SHOULD...T...NEED...HELP…" The voice was barely above a whisper, an unusually low volume for the robot.

Wormwood patted their back gently. "Is okay, friend. Don't need to be ashamed for needing help. Everyone need help sometime."

There was a creak as they nodded, then the sound of a buzzing snore as they drifted to sleep.

[katie-writes24]

I’ll Be Your Safe Place

Pairing: Ruben Marcado x reader

Warnings: Language, suggestive material, mentions of sex, hurt/comfort, two insecure confused fools, violence, Ian Price, Jason Cole, angst, and lots of sad Ruben.

Part 1

This was not supposed to be a continuation...buuuut, here we are. This is a sequel to ‘I’ll Be Your Escape.’ I honestly got whiplash writing this so I hope you all enjoy! Ruben deserves everything, especially more content. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Leave some feedback! Thank you @tinywhim for your constant encouragement! Enjoy!

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Then why are you pulling back?”

“It’s just…” Ruben lowered his head, as if in shame and bit the inside of his cheek. His sweaters comforted him, they definitely hid the lines on his forearm that Y/N slowly ran her fingertips over. He was sort of glad she didn’t see them before. No matter how much guilt filled his stomach when he looked at them, he couldn’t help but shiver at the small touch she was currently giving him. 

“It still kinda shakes me up,” She looked confused, so Ruben cleared his throat and took a breath. “I was thrown around like that in high school, you know. There were always bullies, but this. When he ran his fingers in my blood… I was scared that it would be so much worse than it was.”

Y/N dropped her hands for a moment, and Ruben could see the tears in her eyes. 

“It hurt. I didn’t try to resist, I couldn’t,” He chuckled as he thought about it. “Guess that’s kind of pathetic, right?”

“Not pathetic. No, Ruben, you’re not pathetic. Please understand that it wasn’t your fault. Please? I need you to understand that Ruben.” Y/N held his face so softly that Ruben felt his eyes shut. He was so tired, it was all so overwhelming. 

“I need you to say it.”

Ruben blinked and shook his head, “Say what?”

“That it wasn’t your fault.”

He didn’t understand. 

Jason came up to him and asked about his work. He seemed genuinely interested, asking questions and writing down little notes. He asked Ruben for a small favor, asked if he knew about certain aspects of the brain. Ruben was just a chemist, but he learned a lot in college, and what Jason asked of him was a bit extreme. It certainly wasn’t the small favor he asked for years ago. 

But Jason asked so kindly, always visiting Ruben in his office every day. Jason looked at Ruben so differently, like he was some blessing that came from the sky. It made Ruben feel warm, it made him feel good. He’s never been paid that much attention before he met Jason. 

Jason asked a lot. He kept Ruben working long nights, took a lot of his time away from his real work. The doctor told him so many things that he made sound like a promise, but was just an act. 

Jason got him into this mess. Jason got him hurt. 

Ian damaged him. He carved his skin, gagged him up and made him feel so small. Ian made him feel useless, stupid. A coward. Ian dragged him to a club all as a pawn just to get on his ‘good’ side. Just so he could get into his head and tell him theories that sounded insane. 

And for a time, Ruben believed that he would continue this cycle of insecurity and pain. 

He was sure that night at the warehouse would be his last day alive. 

Then he met Y/N, and he’s never felt so….

Well, Y/N drew Ruben into a feeling he never knew was there. 

He could see how gorgeous she was, obviously. She caught his attention as soon as he saw her, hanging in the shadows while everyone around them got higher than the clouds. Ian had told him that she was a bit shy, but as soon as he had her in a room, Ruben seemed to be the shy one. 

It was an unforgettable experience. He still remembers the way she whispered his name, remembers her legs shaking around his head as she came. He remembers her looking at him with bright eyes, remembers her praising him. 

He remembers feeling on top of the world. 

Ruben didn’t think he’d ever lose his virginity at the age he did, certainly not in a slimy room in a warehouse filled with even slimier people. But he certainly didn’t think he’d meet someone like Y/N there, either. 

Y/N was kind to him, never judging him. In that small amount of time that he was with her, he felt like he was being heard. Even after he shut her accusations down, she still spoke to him with such sincerity. 

He would have never thought they were so alike. 

They both were birds trapped in a cage, looking for an escape but every turn led to the same place. Half of him didn’t even want to know what the girl had gone through, the other half wishes he could just hold her in his arms and never let go. He barely even knew her, but he was so lucky to have her.

And it made him realize that he shouldn’t have her. He often wondered if he would feel so in danger if he hadn’t made any face-to-face contact with Ian that night in the elevator, if he walked away from Jason when he yelled at him about selling Blackout, if he did sell Blackout. Well, Ruben would probably be in the sun in Jamaica right now, not a care in the world. 

Instead he sits on a bed in the smallest apartment he’s ever seen with Y/N across from him, looking at Ruben with such care. She’s holding his face gently, not like he could break, but with a grounding touch. And looking at her makes him think about every decision he made all over again.

So how can Ruben lie and say that it wasn’t his fault? He kept helping Jason, he made the drug. 

“Ruben?”

He looked into her eyes, which were wide in concern. Her thumb was caressing his cheek and he could melt from the simple act. 

“I…I don’t know if I can.”

“What?”

“I mean it when I say it’s complicated. But I just...I did something, that I shouldn’t have done in the first place. I pissed Ian off and if I hadn’t then maybe I wouldn’t have these sca-”

“Ruben, please listen to me. What Ian did to you was not your fault. And- and maybe I don’t know what exactly happened, but I know you couldn’t have done anything that would make this your fault.” Her voice cracked and his heart shattered. 

If only she knew the full story. 

Ruben’s silence had caused her some sort of frustration, and Y/N lowered her hands and hesitated before asking, “What do I need to do to prove it to you?”

“No, Y/N, it’s not like that, it’s…I don’t know. Maybe I’ll believe it one day, but I just can’t right now, and I don’t think there’s anything you could say to make it better.”

The woman shook in front of him, and he felt a little guilty. But it was the truth. It was a situation she couldn’t control, not with words, not with actions. 

“I’m sorry,” Ruben took her hand in his, rubbing her knuckles slowly. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“No, I understand what you mean. I’m sorry I pushed, I just...it’s not fair. It’s not fair that you have to feel this way.”

There was nothing more to say, Ruben wanted to change the subject. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and moved to kiss her cheek. He kept his lips planted on her skin for a few extra seconds, and he felt Y/N lean into the touch. 

Eventually, Ruben leaned his head on her shoulder, enjoying the contact. Y/N was playing with his fingers, gradually moving up his arms and tracing over his scars again. 

He wondered if she would ever just let it be, like how he currently is. That’s how he’s coping, because how could he blame Ian when he took him to an amazing party where he met an amazing girl?

But Y/N lifted his arm to her lips and pressed the most delicate kisses against the lines. 

They stayed like that for a while, moving back and forth between different spots. They always ended up in each other’s arms, and when Ruben felt his eyes drifting shut when Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, he cleared his throat. 

“I should go.”

“You could stay.”

But it wasn’t like that. 

They’d seen each other three times since that night. Ruben had been ignoring Jason’s and Ian’s calls for days, and he was only just going back to work tomorrow. He knew that neither of them would be happy, and he probably shouldn’t care what either of them think, it serves them right. 

But that’s not the person Ruben is. He can see himself getting right back into routine in a matter of days all because Jason will say his name in a pleading voice. 

Y/N gave him an address, not her phone number because it’d be too risky. She spent most of the time tending to Oz’s beckoncall, but on the rare occasion that there was no huge party, she stayed in this small flat. 

She told Ruben she was comfortable here. She trusted Ruben with that. 

But they weren’t a thing. He didn’t stay. 

“I have work tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

Her arms grew tighter around him.

“Does Ian bother you at work?”

Ruben snorted, “Kinda, yeah.”

She just shook her head to herself, letting Ruben go and bringing her knees up to hug her body. Before Ruben could feel hurt from the treatment, he couldn’t help but notice that she looked so small. 

“Y/N-”

“It’s not fair.” She whispered, running a hand over her face. Ruben would agree, but again, she doesn’t know the whole story. This was just the way things were for now.

He reached out his hand and she kissed the center of his palm before standing up and wrapping herself around him once again. And Ruben did the same.

Because now that he’s got a taste of Y/N’s affection, something caring, physical, and emotionally soothing, it was like a drug.

“When can I see you again?” Y/N whispered softly against his neck.

Ruben didn’t know if he’d still be alive tomorrow, it all depended on how pissed he made the two men. 

“Soon,” He kissed her forehead as she clung to him. “I promise.” Y/N tilted her head up and tilted his chin down with her finger. She kissed him softly before sucking his bottom lip. 

With one final kiss, Ruben stood up, and it felt like he was being ripped apart. It was an odd feeling. 

“You should sleep, sun’s coming up soon.” His soft hand ran over her forehead as she laid down in the bed. In a way it felt domestic, it felt right. 

He hoped it wasn’t just his previous lack of physical affection, and that he was actually starting to have feelings for Y/N. 

“You made me tired, with all your fancy talk on being some doctor.” Y/N’s eyes were closed but she smiled when Ruben giggled. 

“I’m a chemist, boring people is what I do.”

“Shut up.” Y/N reached out to shove him but missed, and Ruben had second thoughts about leaving. But he fought through, because if he ever wanted to run away with her, he would have to get out of here and go to work. He would have to be patient. 

As Ruben looked for his shirt, Y/N sighed deeply behind him. “Has anyone told you that you have the nicest ass?”

Ruben choked on his own spit. 

“I-uh, no, heh, no. That’s a not a normal conversation starter for me, no.” 

Y/N giggled and got up from the bed, walking towards him slowly as he fumbled with the fabric in his hand. Ruben swallowed as she pulled on his belt loops. 

He knew that he could stare into her eyes forever; now that he’s thinking of it, he was probably hypnotized the first day they met. It felt like time stopped when he’s tired into those bright, yet dark orbs.

Y/N’s nose grazed his as her hands moved to frame his ass, and Ruben let out a shaky breath. It was quite the feeling. 

She chuckled, “What? That too much?”

He shook his head, “No, it’s...it’s nice.”

Y/N hummed and paused for a moment. She squeezed both cheeks as she stared into his eyes, and Ruben felt his face heat up. 

“Would you ever let me fuck you?”

“Christ, Y/N.”

His mouth easily fell into hers, moving with rhythm that seemed so easy. When Y/N pulled back, she smiled cockily before turning to walk back to the bed, tucking herself under the covers like she didn’t just easily give Ruben a boner from her words. 

“I hope you’re satisfied with yourself.”

“Oh I am, thank you,” Y/N smiled before throwing him a kiss. “Sweet dreams.”

~~~

It was overwhelming how quickly Ruben got attached to Y/N. Maybe it was from the way she would whisper in his ear stories from her past, or how she would kiss his forehead during moments of vulnerability. Maybe it was the way she smiled, blushed when Ruben complimented her. Maybe it was the way she was so genuine when giving Ruben praises, so honest. Whatever the reason was, it made it more difficult that Ruben couldn’t send a quick text to see how her day was going, or even ramble about his own.

Like right now, as he sat listening to the endless amount of voicemails left from the one number that made his blood boil. From the two people who asked so much of him.

Nothing was working, a screen staring at him that only showed a negative. Nothing was working. 

“Ruben, where the hell have you been?”

It was a cycle. 

Maybe he should have known that this was what it would always be like, that Jason wouldn’t give a shit about him, not unless he stepped a foot outside this hospital, and at that point, Ruben must be insane to do so. He wouldn’t care unless he miraculously found a cure for him. Jason wasn’t concerned about him missing, he was concerned that Ruben wasn’t in the lab. 

So he confronted him, tried to anyway. Why would Jason care about Ian’s threats to him, towards his family, as long as he was back at his desk, right? And Ruben was about to burst, about to tell him there’s no hope, it’s pointless, it’s impossible-

He didn’t know what the truth was anymore with Jason. He promised a lot, made sure to tell Ruben time after time just this once. And those were lies. And who’s to say that Jason having a son isn’t a lie, either? Why should Ruben care about Jason’s family, when Jason doesn’t care about Ruben’s family?

But even he said that there was nothing he could possibly say to apologize to Ruben. 

He was right.

Turns out Ruben was gullible.

He worked again and again, trying different elements and twisting certain angles. Nothing was working. Ruben was so gullible that he completely forgot that Ian could easily find him, too. 

Despite his words, he didn’t seem very happy to see Ruben, having a harsh tone and sharp eyes. It was like jumping back to the beginning, where Ruben was nothing but terrified of the man. He said that he wouldn’t hurt Ruben, but who was he to trust Ian?

A lab rat. That’s what he was, right? That’s all he was meant to do.

“Well maybe you need to be a little better...what’s the word, motivated?”

Ruben felt his stomach twist.

“You know while you were playing hide and seek, I had to go to parties all alone. Oz keeps his promises, always one of the most thrilling party hosts. And you know, there’s always one girl that always peaks my interest at these things.”

Ruben swallowed hard.

“But this time, she seemed a bit...distracted. So, you know me, ever the gentleman, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. So I waited around till the crowd died down, and when I saw her leave, you wouldn’t begin to imagine what I saw.”

Sometimes I feel like I’m being watched. But I guess that’s what I get right? I mean they all know that I’m...different from Oz’s girls. They probably think I’m up to something.

Ruben was sweating.

“You know, I should tell her to invest in some curtains. You never know who might be peeking up from the street to see her bouncing on some dirty, lying chemist’s dick.”

Don’t worry, I don’t need them. Besides, if you ever see a light on, you’ll know I’m home. You can always come up.

Ruben tried, he tried not to give himself away, tried not to blow their cover, but Ian was intimidating. He was threatening and he could see right through Ruben. Everything was over. There was no way this would end good, whether the drug worked or not. There was no escaping this lab, this drug, Jason, Ian-

“So, think about all the good things that will happen if you make the drug, and think about all the bad things that will happen if you don’t.”

“I’m just saying, it’s complicated.”

Ian didn’t understand because Ian wasn’t the one under so much pressure. Ruben really was doing everything he can, even if Jason didn’t deserve it, even if it wasn’t meant for Ian. Whoever would ultimately be affected by the drug, it wasn’t working. There were no signs or chemicals that could treat it properly. 

And what could Ruben do about it? In one corner he would have to keep working and working and never stop until he got it right. In the other corner he either got it right or he dies. Who’s to say that he won’t die in either outcome? Who’s to say that he gets to run and live on the beach with his lover? Who’s to say his family would be okay with his disappearance? Who’s to say that any of them win in the end? Nothing good could come out of-

“I think my prescription is ready.”

Ruben couldn’t believe it, one that he actually did it, and two that he actually did it. 

He also couldn’t believe that it had worked under the watch of Ian. 

But it did, and now the two of them sat there for hours. Just as Ruben felt his eyes drift close, he would hear Ian shuffle behind him, and jolt awake, reminded how much danger he was in. Ruben would rather grow exhausted then be stabbed in the back in his sleep. Though he knew Ian needed him right now, still, it wasn’t a comforting thought. Maybe Ruben would pass out from exhaustion. 

“So tell me, what’s she like?” Ian leaned against the desk.

“What?”

“Y/N, what’s she like? She’s a tough one, ain’t she? You know, I’ve been trying to hit that for months, but she stands her ground. She knows what she wants, and somehow, she wants you, Rubes.”

He was not going to do this right now, he was not going to talk about something private and something he found comforting to Ian Price. Ruben was not going to reveal his thoughts on Y/N, not what she’d like in bed, not how he feels about her, even though he’s made it quite obvious. He was not going to listen to Ian taunt him for the next three hours. 

“Really, you should be thanking me for putting you two together. I never thought that it would get this far. I mean, I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I tried, and she just wouldn’t budge. It was almost annoying, you know?”

Did Ian hurt you?

They talked about all kinds of things, from how the subway gives them both the creeps, to dream houses, even how they wanted to start over. But they never got to talking about Y/N’s past with Ian. 

Ruben would never force her into telling him anything. But he showed her his scars, something he was insecure about, something he was ashamed about. It seemed a little unfair.

“Did you touch her?”

Ian chuckled, “Excuse me?”

Ruben shouldn’t have said anything, he should’ve kept his mouth shut, gave Ian the drug and he would leave him alone and leave. But he needed to know what had happened. He needed to know if Y/N was in as much trouble as he was.

If he wasn’t lost in his own thoughts, then maybe Ruben would’ve heard Ian get up from the chair. He would’ve heard him approaching. But instead Ruben was face down on his desk with Ian’s hand pressed down hard against the back of his neck.

He winced and struggled but Ian only scoffed.

“What kind of person do you think I am, Ruben? Huh? What has that bitch been telling you?”

“Nothing, nothing! She didn’t say anything about you.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ruben. I think you know better.” 

He couldn’t breath, he felt overwhelmed. What time was it? 

“Y/N’s just jealous, always has been. Of the attention, the action that she doesn’t get. She’s been stuck on the sidelines for forever, and just when I give her a better offer, she thinks she’s better than everyone else. So, don’t you accuse me of something you know nothing about Ruben, or maybe you’ll be put in the same place she was in.”

The hand was suddenly gone. Ruben choked. He was shaking.

“You’re lucky, Ruben. It’s showtime.”

He was confused, but as Ian rolled up his sleeve, Ruben’s fear of him doing something much, much worse disappeared, and realized that it was almost 8:25. But he couldn’t do it, there was no way. There’s too much risk, too many things that could happen, and Ruben felt pain in his neck and knew that this wasn’t going well.

“Think about what’s important to you, Ruben.” 

“And you’ll leave me alone? You’ll leave my family alone, Y/N alone?” Ruben swallowed, thoughts already forming in his head. What about Jason?

“Of course, unlike Jason, I’m a man of my word.”

He promised.

As Ruben turned his back, he clenched the needle in his hand, another one going in his pocket. Ian kept his eye on the clock.

“Don’t think about it as taking a life. Think of it as saving two; mine and yours.”

Mine and Y/N’s.

Ruben stared at Ian, wondering how easily this could go wrong, how it wouldn’t work, how he’d be dead in an instant if Ian got his hands on him again. 

But he had to try. 

Ian shoved him back and growled, “Give me the drug.”

As Ruben punched the needle into his arm, he looked at Ian, waiting for a reaction. Time was frozen and they both just looked at each other. 

Ruben saw the exact moment when Ian came to realization.

“You lied to me!” He swung out an arm but Ruben jumped out of the way, reaching for the door. But he wasn’t fast enough as Ian grabbed onto his coat and threw him backwards, his back hitting the cabinet. 

Not only was Ian growing weaker but his body was starting to shake, a classic signal that he was starting to shift. Ian kneed Ruben in the gut and as he cried out and toppled over, he felt Ian fall to the floor beside him. 

His first instinct was to hold him down, keep him still until he passed out, but Ruben was so shaky, so scared, there was nothing he could do except watch the scene with wide eyes and a rapid beating heart.

Ian called out his name one more time faintly, like he was in the distance. It still easily sounded like a threat. 

Ruben didn’t move for what felt like hours, but was most likely a few minutes. He didn’t move until he saw Ian’s breathing even out, eyes closed. He honestly didn’t think he could pull it off that easy, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

As his fear crept closer, he grabbed his laptop and papers, shoved it in his bag before walking out of the lab, leaving an unconscious Ian behind and in a dire search for Y/N.

[hopeshoodie]

Couples I think would have been equally as toxic as Nope if they’d gotten together in the villa

Marisol and Elisa: They’d go toe to toe with Nope for the most dysfunctional relationship in the villa

Whereas Marisol and Hope are similar in their ambition and independence but different enough to be compatible (Hope is more empathetic and Marisol is more strategic), Elisa and Marisol are just too similar. Pair that similarity with how competitive they both are… Yikes. Both of them tend to think that they’re the prettiest, smartest, and most aware people in the room, and with the time in the villa they wouldn’t be able to build enough of a relationship to overcome their constant judgement towards each other. 

If MC wasn’t there, I think Marisol would realize around day 23 that the audience doesn’t care about her and Graham. She wants to win, and Elisa’s been grafting onto her, so she’ll couple with Elisa to try and be the ‘wlw power couple’ that the audience wants. 

And while they’re both attracted to each other… They’re SO passive aggressive.  Elisa isn’t goofy or sweet enough to get Marisol to lighten up, but she IS socially aware enough to be irritated by Marisol’s poor taste in men and constant over-analyzing. Elisa’s unflappable confidence would make Marisol feel insecure (through no fault of her own, having someone flat out tell you ‘I’m more attractive than you, I have more power’ hurts), and she’d cope with that insecurity REALLY poorly. 

So while they both want to be together for the game strategy and because they’re both attracted to each other, they’re in this cycle of ‘actually enjoying the romantic dates and game challenges together, one of them says something and the other one is passive aggressive in response, they get really personal and exchange digs in that whisper-fight way that couples do when they’re pretending everything’s fine, then Marisol leaves to sulk, then Elisa approaches her pretending nothing is wrong (invalidating her emotions) and then if Marisol puts up a stink about that reminds her they have to be a happy couple to win LITG. 

God they would make everyone SO UNCOMFORTABLE with the sniping. Marisol would say something annoying, Elisa would make a face or a snarky comment, then they would grit their teeth and go back and forth. ‘I don’t think Rahim and Jo are going to last, look at how he’s sitting’ ‘I don’t think you’re close enough to Rahim to have that insight. Not everyone’s body language is the same.’ ‘Well you haven’t been here since day 1’ ‘No but I’ve gotten to watch all the behind the scenes’ ‘What’s the point of knowing all that if you don’t share it with your partner, though.’ and just increasingly sharper eye contact at each other and more and more curt voices.

Once they’re out of the villa (or maybe even at the finale, when they’re both pissed that they lost), all the pretense is dropped and they just scream at each other. Marisol because she keeps all these mental receipts about things that she’s angry about, and Elisa because she thinks she’s above having to care. 

Lucas and Lottie: God this would be… A whole mess.

As much as Lottie doesn’t want to admit it, she’s clingy as fuck. And not in a ‘hold my hand in public’ kind of way, but in a ‘don’t even glance at other women, I need you to say you’re committed even if you’re not’. But she doesn’t want to acknowledge that’s how she is, so she would say she’s okay being ‘casual’ (she let Gary string her along, I have no doubts she’d let Lucas do the same) but very much not be okay with it.

On his end, Lucas would NOT be concerned about her feelings. He used Blake, he shafted MC, and he barely apologized for either. I think his reaction to Lottie would be very similar to Gary’s- never really affirming her or supporting her but definitely accepting her support and going all the way with her. But instead of being oblivious to that being what he was doing, Lucas would acknowledge it. Say it was intentional, that they were only casually dating. He would flirt with other women, but never switch. I firmly believe he switched from MC because he was scared by how into her he was, but with Lottie he’d never have that problem. Being coupled with Lottie would be a safe position for Lucas- he gets to play the game without taking any risks. 

And honestly? I think it’d be a good position for both of them. They’re fan favorites in their own right, attractive and desired by the audience. I don’t know if people would ship them as much as they’d like knowing that both of their faves are still ‘available’ in a way. Lucas and Lottie have good rapport where they can be snarky about other couples, which viewers would love. I could easily see them taking third or second as a couple.

But gosh... They would bring out the worst in each other. Lucas is really dismissive and cold when you corner him, and Lottie is really nasty when she feels threatened. Lucas’ proud non-commitment to Lottie would drive her insane trying to defend her territory, and Lottie’s demands to be treated like she deserves would make Lucas even more convinced that he’s right to treat her as a friend with benefits. Poor Henrik would be caught in the middle because he likes both of them, but hates when they’re together. 

Priya and Henrik: I don’t think these two would be nearly as loudly toxic as Nope or the above, but they’d certainly hurt each other plenty.

I feel like this pairing could have feasibly happened if Henrik stayed in the villa, and then Priya was paired with Noah. They both fancied each other, but had they been together for a long period of time I think their relationship would’ve slowly degraded and upset both of them. 

Despite Priya being the most mature age-wise, I actually think she’s one of the least mature girls in the villa (obviously she’s more than Jo or Lottie, but definitely leagues below MC and Hope). Her playing games with Felix, gamifying Operation Nope instead of just cracking on with Noah, and chasing Lottie down for an apology instead of letting it go were all pretty juvenile things to do. Conversely, while Henrik seems like a young golden-retriever boy, he’s actually really mature and considerate of others. 

I can see their relationship being fine, if not really good, for a couple of days (like Priya was with Rahim), before Priya loses interest. Henrik would get attached because of those honeymoon days, and he’ll become increasingly despondent as Priya starts looking elsewhere because he’s not enough. Why isn’t he enough? Especially if Lucas is gone and MC isn’t into him, he starts to feel like a burden to the villa. I can see Priya making another offer to Noah towards the end of the season if she stayed, be it just a ‘are you really still not interested?’, which would crush Henrik. 

At the same time, Henrik tries to keep the peace and a lot of the little spats and jokes Priya participates in will rub him the wrong way. He’ll gently try to point out to her that repeatedly using the Ice Robot joke on Jakub is mean, and Priya will get insulted because she thinks Henrik is singling her out. So while Henrik feels like their good relationship is slipping through his fingers, Priya feels like it was never that good to begin with. That now she’s just shackled to someone who goes out of his way to make her feel like a bad person. 

I don’t think Henrik would call it and leave Priya, even if Lucas encouraged him to. And Priya wouldn’t switch unless it was a sure thing (which no one in the villa in late game would be for her). So they would just stay together until they get voted off, increasingly resenting each other and getting more and more distant. I qualify this as a toxic relationship because they’ll definitely both leave the show feeling like they wasted the time and have a worse self image than when they came in (it would reinforce Henrik’s idea that maybe he’s unlovable and make Priya insecure about ‘am I a bad person?’).

[nxrthmizu]

Hello!! Could I request a number 7 and fluff for Nishinoya? platonic to romatic if possible? I'm a very friendly and energetic person. I'm very talkative and outgoing, and I tend to show my affection for others a lot! Thank you~~

| Pandas and Bamboos | Nishinoya Yuu 

»»——⍟——««

prompt | #7- Animals 

pairing | Nishinoya Yuu x Reader

words | 1.9k 

author’s note | Hello! Here’s my first Nishinoya piece, so I hope it’s accurate! Enjoy~ 

»»——⍟——««

“You promise?” You asked one more time for good measure, delight making your toes curl. “You promise?” 

Nishinoya Yuu, your best friend- Rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Yes! If you help me practice, I promise I’ll take you to the zoo next week.” 

“Deal!” You grinned from ear-to-ear, picking up a ball from the net. “Here we go!” 

The two of you were in the the backyard of your house, where there was a small volleyball court that your older brother used to practice in. You had dragged up a wooden board that blocked the view of the other side of the court, and Nishinoya was stretching his muscles in the centre of the court. 

“Here we go!” You told him, taking a deep breath and sending an overhand serve straight at the wooden board. The ball bounced off the wooden board and changed direction in less than a second. It ricocheted towards the court, but before it could touch the concrete, your golden-eyed bestfriend dove for the ball, sending it up into the air. 

A wave of thrill brushed through your body as you jumped, spiking the ball towards the board. It bounced off again, like expected, and once again Nishinoya was there to dig it up. The two of you repeated the spike-dig-spike-dig routine over and over again until one of your spikes shot out of court. 

Pants clouded the air as the two of you caught your breath after an exhilarating five minutes of practice. 

A spark glinted sharply in his golden irises as he looked up at you. “Again!” 

»»——⍟——««

In the end, the both of you had worn yourselves out for the next three hours until your muscles were sore and you were ready to drop. Nishinoya’s energy seemed to never deplete. By the end of three hours, your mother hollered for the two of you to come for dinner- Yuu was at your house so often that your mother had started making dinner for him, too. 

He did keep his promise, though. 

One week later, at 5am in the morning, Nishinoya had greeted your mother, who was out early to feed the chickens, and let himself into the house. 

“Y/N!” He whisper-yelled into your ear, making you jump and scream simultaneously. “Let’s go! We’re going to the zoo!” 

You caught your breath and your heart, wanting to slap your bestfriend for scaring the hell out of you at the crack of dawn. “The sun isn’t even up yet!” You complained, burrowing yourself back into your covers. 

“We’re taking an early train so we avoid the crowd!” He yanked your blanket away from you. “Come on, I’m skipping volleyball practice for this. Get up! We don’t have time to waste!” 

A groan rumbled down your throat as you begrudgingly dragged your sorry ass out of bed. “How are you always this energetic?” You whined. 

Five minutes later, the two of you said goodbye to your mother, and then the two of you were on your bike, Nishinoya cycling with your seated on the main seat with you sighing sleepily on the pillion. Both of your bags were tossed in the basket in front of the bicycle, jiggling against the metal frame as the two of you descended down a hill. 

A smile spread across Yuu’s lips as you leaned forward, your cheek resting on his back as you dozed off lightly. His heart fluttered quietly while he biked on contentedly, trying to pedal softer as not to wake you. 

“Y/N-chan.” He whispered, feeling your stir awake behind him. “We’re almost at the station.” 

You blinked sleep away from your eyes as the two of you rolled up to the front of Sendai Station, the sun just barely rising over the horizon. “That’s fast.” You yawned. 

“Of course!” He huffed. “You weren’t the one that had paddle up and down numerous hills.” 

»»——⍟——««

“Look at that! We’re the earliest.” Yuu said triumphantly. You gave him a deadpanned look. 

“Yuu, the ticket counter isn’t even open yet.” You told him dryly. “Come on, that coffee shop’s open. We could go grab some coffee and wait for them to open.” 

He pouted as you dragged him into the shop. 

“Sit. Keep an eye on the ticket counter.” You told him sternly, plopping him down at one of the tables next to a window that had a view of the zoo’s ticket counter. “Don’t go anywhere, Yuu.” You warned. 

A soft laugh bubbled out your throat as you watched Yuu sit quietly by the window like a freshly-scolded puppy. “I’ll have... A mocha and a hot chocolate with extra cream, please.” You requested with a smile at the tired-looking barista. 

“Here you go.” The barista told you with a sigh. “Enjoy.” 

“You can stop looking so sad now, Yuu.” You flicked his forehead with your finger, grinning at him. “Here’s your hot chocolate with extra cream.” 

He brightened immediately. “You do love me!” Nishinoya exclaimed victoriously as you rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue out at him. 

“I do not.” 

“You do!” 

“I do not.” 

“You do!”

In the end, you stuck out your tongue at him childishly, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Fine, I do.” 

“Ha!” 

“But that’s only because no one else would love an idiot like you.” 

»»——⍟——««

Nishinoya bit his lip, deep in his own thoughts as he waited for the ticket counter lady to give him two tickets. Did you mean it when you said you did love him? And... Did you love him romantically? 

“Sir.” The ticket lady snapped him out of his daze. “Here’s your tickets. The entrance is over there.” She pointed, giving him a weird look. It was not common to see teenage boys get up at the crack of dawn just to be the first one into the zoo. 

“Y/N!” He called out to you, who was sitting on a bench, scrolling through your phone as you waited for him to get the tickets. “Here you go!” He looped the ticket around your wrist, holding out his for you to do. 

“Don’t move.” You instructed, tying the plastic around his wrist. “Okay, let’s go!” 

Nishinoya bounced through the entrance with you, the two of you too overly-excited for the security guard’s liking. 

“Thank you!” You shot a bright smile at the security guard; Nishinoya dragging you off even as you spoke, already rambling about [your favourite animal]. “Oh my god, Yuu, slow down!” You panted, your hand slipping away from his as you stopped, panting. The libero of Karasuno’s volleyball team had dragged you across half of the zoo, having already memorised where the [your favourite animal] enclosure would be. 

“Hurry up, Y/N-chan!”  Yuu grinned brightly. “If we hurry up, we might be able to see the [your favourite animal] before it wakes up!” 

Your eyes brightened. “Really?” 

“Yeah!” 

»»——⍟——««

The two of you had eventually stopped running around like maniacs and had turned to walking around the enclosures one by one. 

“What is that?” Yuu’s jaw dropped as he stared into the platypus enclosure. “It looks so weird.” 

“That’s a platypus.” You snorted, speed-reading through the information panel next to the enclosure. “It looks like you.” 

Yuu’s eyes shone brightly, his golden irises glistening like the sun. “You think I look special?” 

“I never said that!” You reeled back indignantly. “Did you know platypuses are mammals but they lay eggs?”

“That’s so cool!” He exclaimed, jumping up into the air to get a better view of the platypus, who looked unamused at him. “Hello platypus! Y/N-chan thinks we’re both special!” 

»»——⍟——««

“So cute!” You squealed, your eyes fixated on the giant panda that was munching happily on a piece of bamboo. “That bamboo looks very tasty, too.” 

“I’m going to go steal the bamboo from it.” Yuu decided before you jerked his shirt harshly, giving him a stern glare. 

“Don’t you dare steal someone else’s food.” You hissed at him, glowering. “The bamboo is very important to the panda! Look at it!” You pointed at the furry black-and-white animal. “He looks at the bamboo like it’s the thing he loves most in the world!” 

Yuu nodded like he had just been enlightened about his purpose on the planet. “I see now! You’re right!” 

“I wish someone could look at me the way the panda looks at the bamboo.” You sighed dreamily. Nishinoya turned to fix his golden irises on you, watching the way your [hair colour] hair swayed in the slight wind, feeling his heart flutter at the way you stared at the panda in utter adoration. 

“I do.” He muttered softly. 

“What was that?” You glanced up in surprise, not having heard what he said. “Yuu?” 

He grinned brightly. “We’re totally buying panda plushies at the souvenir shop later!”  

»»——⍟——««

“Thank you!” You squealed, jumping into Yuu’s arms, enveloping him with a bear hug. Other visitors around the souvenir shop shot the two of you weird looks, but the two of you were too absorbed in your world to notice. “It’s so cute!” You grinned, squishing the cheeks of your new panda plushy. “I’m going to name him Yuu!” 

Nishinoya cackled victoriously. “You’re naming him Yuu because he’s cute like me, right?” 

“Oh, keep dreaming.” You scoffed, whacking his head lightly. “Say one more word and I’m naming him Ennoshita.” An evil laugh rung inside your head as Yuu reacted, looking offended and horrified at the thought. 

“You wouldn’t!” 

---

“Yuu?” 

He hummed in response, his feet constantly pushing the bike forward as the two of you rode out of the roads leading to Sendai Station. 

“Thanks for today.” You mumbled into his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his waist. “And the plushy.” 

He coughed, feeling a blush paint itself onto his cheeks in the shade of Nekoma’s uniform. “I was just repaying you for practicing with me. Practice with me again next week, and we’ll go to...” 

“The fox village!” You suggested happily. “Squishy foxes with squishy cheeks.” 

Squishing the cheeks of foxes didn’t sound very safe to him, but what the hell, Nishinoya thought. If any of the foxes dared to bite you, he’d rolling thunder them. “Sure!” He agreed quickly. He got to spend time practicing with you- And then he’d get to bring you out to places you wanted to go. Yuu really didn’t see any downside at all. 

“And... About what you said at the panda enclosure... Did you mean it?” You asked suddenly, your voice getting softer as you burrowed your face into his back in embarrassment. 

The bike screeched to a stop as Yuu pressed the brakes too suddenly, almost sending the two of you flying forward. “You- You heard that?” He turned to look at you with an incredulous expression. 

“Y- Yeah.” 

“Oh. Um.” He coughed awkwardly.  “Yeah.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, too scared to face whatever teasing remark you would throw at him. Instead, he felt your lips on his cheek, but by the time he shot his eyes open, you had already drew back, a fierce red on your cheeks. 

“Um. I look at you like the panda looks at the bamboo too.” You admitted. “When you’re not looking.” 

A grin slowly spread across his cheeks as he tried to keep his heart from bursting from the sheer amount of affection he had for you. “So. We’re going to the fox village next week?” 

He turned back, pedalling up the hill with renewed energy as you wrapped your arms around his waist tighter. “Yeah.” 

»»——⍟——««

Thank you for the request! 💕

@owlywrites one day we are going to go to Miyagi and we’re going to cuddle foxes- Look up Miyagi Zao Fox Village, they’re too cute for me- 

»»——⍟——««

[440mxs-wife]

Merry Ketchmas

Pairing: Arthur Ketch x reader. Other characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 5600-ish (I seem incapable of writing anything short)

Warnings: Slight description of injuries, a kitchen mishap, a little angst but mostly fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was mid-morning, and you were partway through your to-do list for the day. You took a basket of dirty clothes to the laundry room then loaded them into the machine to be washed. You added soap and set the dial for the correct cycle, humming as you left the room.

You had returned to the library and were about to resume reading when the bunker doors flew open. Sam and Dean were trying to maneuver down the spiral staircase, carrying someone in between them.

"Sweetheart?? A little help please?" Dean called.

You ran to the bottom of the stairs to see who was wounded and the extent of the injuries. Your heart flew into your throat as you recognized the man being carried down the stairs. It's Ketch. He's been hurt. Your mind went into overdrive with worry as the trio reached the bottom stair. "What happened?" you asked.

"Werewolf's claws got Ketch in the left leg, and we think he also might have sprained his right ankle," Sam informed you.

"I certainly hope you lads have stocked up on the good anesthetic this time. Not that cheap swill you usually drink," a distinctly British-accented voice drawled.

"All right, I'll meet you guys in the infirmary," you called over your shoulder. You raced ahead of the boys to get everything ready.

"Oh, good, a pretty nurse is here to doctor me back to health. Or, is it a pretty doctor is here to nurse me back to health? Hmm? Lads?" Ketch asked as he began to chuckle.

"Yeah, yeah, pretty nurse, pretty doctor," Dean muttered. "Let's just get you to the infirmary in one piece," he grumbled. Dean was thankful that you were out of earshot before Ketch made his 'nurse/doctor' comments.

By the time the boys arrived in the infirmary, you had the medical supplies set up, such as suture kits and bandages. You also had a washcloth with a basin of warm water on standby.

When they entered the infirmary, you took a quick glance at what you could see of Ketch's injuries. Although he was wearing black pants, you could see the sheen of fresh blood splotches on them. A makeshift bandage was tied around his leg to try and reduce the blood loss.

"All right, fellas, let's get him up on this bed so I can get to work," you directed.

"Darling, shouldn't you allow me to take you out for dinner and dancing first before you get me into bed?" Ketch smirked.

You rolled your eyes at his remark, but your lips were twitching, trying to hold back a grin. You grabbed the scissors to cut his pants leg away so you could see what his wound looked like. You cleared your throat and stared straight into his ocean-blue eyes before speaking.

"Now, be still Arthur, and don't move. If you don't do as I say, I might 'accidentally' slip with these scissors and rid you of something you'd rather keep," you warned. Your voice sounded so ominous that even Sam and Dean backed away from you. "Will you two please hold him so I can cut this away and see what I'm dealing with?" you asked.

From that point on, Ketch mostly behaved himself for the rest of the time it took you to clean his wounds and stitch him up. He was quiet, except for the occasional hiss of pain, at which you mumbled your apologies. Ketch assured you he knew you were doing your best to tend to his medical needs.

You saw that his right ankle was a bit swollen, but determined that it was only lightly sprained. As a precaution, you wrapped it in a flexible bandage, then propped it up on a few pillows to keep it elevated.

As you finished, his adrenaline seemed to have worn off, because he was starting to fall asleep. He was also grumbling about being in pain, so you gave him one of the pain pills from the cabinet. Ketch popped it in his mouth and washed it down with the bottle of water you gave him. You gestured for Sam to hand you one of the extra blankets laying on the other bed. You then draped it over Ketch to keep him warm and from possibly going into shock.

Before you could completely escape, Ketch sat up a bit and caught your hand in his. "Goodnight, Love. See you in the morning," he replied with a drowsy smile, then collapsed back on to the pillow, fast asleep.

You grinned back at the handsome--now snoring--Brit and turned to lean over him. You placed a feather-light kiss to his forehead and directed your attention to Sam and Dean. They both eyed you with quizzical looks on their faces. "What? Oh, shut up," you muttered.

Dean chuckled. "We didn't say anything, did we Sam?" he asked, to which Sam shook his head in amusement.

"Let's just go see about you two idjits, hmm?" you grumbled.

Fortunately, Sam's and Dean's injuries consisted of cuts and scrapes, nothing major or requiring stitches. While they showered and changed clothes, you got to work preparing a pot of chili for dinner. As you put together the components for the chili, you thought about the man currently recovering in your infirmary.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You first met Arthur Ketch after he rescued Gabriel from Asmodeus, and had brought the archangel to the bunker. At the time, Ketch was working for the Prince of Hell as a means of survival after the final battle with the British Men of Letters. When Ketch saw what was happening to Gabriel, he felt it was worth the risk to his own safety to rescue the archangel. Although Ketch wasn't fully trusted by Sam and Dean, he was at least no longer considered an enemy. You, however, had always found him somewhat fascinating.

Arthur Ketch....certainly a handsome devil, with his dark brown, almost black hair and captivating, aqua-colored eyes. His suave and confident demeanor, not to mention that sexy accent drew women in like a magnet. You were no exception, but considering the type of women he was used to being with, you knew you didn't stand a chance. So, you settled for working with him on a few cases here and there. And you tried like hell to keep in mind that his attempts at flirting with you didn't mean a damn thing.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you didn't even hear Dean come into the kitchen. He placed his hand on your shoulder, which caused you to jump a little, but you quickly recovered. "For cryin' out loud, Dean, warn a girl next time. Scared me half to death," you chided, putting your hand on your heart.

Dean chuckled a little, but apologized for scaring you. "Hey, you okay?" he asked. "You seem a bit distracted right now. Doesn't have anything to do with you having a crush on a certain British patient in the infirmary right now, does it?" he wondered with a smirk.

"I'm fine, Dean. And no, I'm not distra--wait, what are you talking about?!?" you exclaimed.

"I'm talking about your crush on Ketch. It's not like it's the first time I noticed something there, either. Remember that one time you were paired up on that siren hunt, where you were a singer in a nightclub?" he asked. "I could tell that Ketch was definitely 'intrigued' as he would say," Dean remarked.

Sam appeared in the doorway, and had heard what his brother said to you about Ketch. "Yeah, I remember that case. He seemed like he was interested in you, told me that you had the 'voice of an angel'. AND said he was a bit jealous of the guys in the audience you paid attention to during your performances," Sam added.

You continued to stir the chili, not exactly sure what to say to Sam's and Dean's remarks. You remembered the hunt they were talking about. At one point, you thought there might have been something between you and Ketch. Then as soon as it was there, it also seemed to quickly disappear, as did the man himself. Today was the first time in months that you had seen or even heard anything from Arthur Ketch.

"Guys, I hear what you're saying, but I don't think he has any 'feelings' like that for me. Anyway, he's used to being with a higher caliber of female companion. You know, more worldly and refined. I'm just....me," you finished softly.

"Sweetheart, you know--" Dean started but you interrupted.

"No, Dean. I'd really rather not talk about it anymore, so change of subject. Christmas is coming up, and I want to know, what kinds of special foods do you guys want me to make?" you asked, then held up your hand. "Before you say it, Dean, I already know you want pie. I'm asking for other ideas, because I'm starting a supply list," you said.

The boys each thought about it while you continued to work on making dinner. In the end, Sam requested chicken wings and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. In addition to pie, Dean requested meatballs with barbecue sauce and chili-cheese dip.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You wondered if you should ask Ketch about his food preferences, but you didn't want to wake him. With any luck, he was still getting that much-needed rest from his werewolf encounter. With his injuries, there was no way he was going anywhere until well after Christmas, possibly even New Years.

After some research, you found that there were some subtle differences in American vs. British traditions at Christmas. To pull this off, you would be needing supplies not only from the supermarket, but also from a craft store. You made note of these items as you worked.

Making this happen for Ketch had grown to become very important for you. Chances were, it had been a long time since he'd celebrated Christmas properly, if at all. You were determined to show him that he has a family of sorts with you and the Winchesters.

For your grocery list, you wrote down what you would need based on what Sam and Dean had told you earlier in the day. You added a few things for yourself, like for making cinnamon rolls and a breakfast quiche. Your list also included a small turkey, parsnips, Brussels sprouts and tea as items for a British Christmas meal.

In addition to the food, you needed supplies from a crafts store to make Christmas crackers. You'd seen them enough on those British rom-com TV shows and movies you love to watch. You were familiar with the concept of a paper tube covered in foil and twisted at both ends. Two people each take an end, then you both pull until it pops open. What comes out from the inside the tube is usually a small trinket and a paper crown.

After dinner, you stopped by Dean's room and gave him your list. Although he grumbled a little, he agreed to find a craft store that would have what you need. You gave him a hug and thanked him for seeing how important this was to you. He teased you a little more about your crush then got serious for a moment.

"Hey? For what it's worth? I think you are just as beautiful and worthy of Ketch's attention as any of those other type of women you talked about. You're smart, funny, caring and do an amazing job of running this place.

"You have one of the biggest hearts out of anyone I know, because you're always thinking of others first. All of that is part of what makes you beautiful, and if Ketch can't see that, he's not worth your time," Dean finished. He pulled you back for one last hug and kissed the top of your head.

"Thanks, Dean. For everything, running my errands and for everything you said. Goodnight," you replied.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he returned.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

After leaving Dean's door, you went back to your room to change into some pajamas. Your plan for the evening was to check on Ketch, then hang around for a while in case he woke up. You grabbed your book from your nightstand and headed for the infirmary.

You walked over to Ketch's bedside and could see that he hadn't moved much since you put in his stitches. You touched your wrist to his forehead to feel if he had a fever, which could indicate an infection, but his temp felt normal.

Your hand caressed his face as it slid down from his forehead, with your thumb gently stroking his cheek. He seemed to lean into your touch and a noise of contentment escaped his lips. You withdrew your hand, but placed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Once you were satisfied with Ketch's condition, you pulled a chair up close to the right side of his bed and sat so you were facing him. You opened your book to read, but it wasn't long before your eyelids began to droop closed from exhaustion.

Your grip on your book eventually relaxed enough to let it slip off your lap and onto the floor. Eyes still closed, you turned in your chair so that you could lean over and place your crossed elbows on the side of Ketch's bed. Then you rested your head on your left elbow and drifted back to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You woke to the feeling of someone gently running his fingers through your hair. A couple of times, you'd swear a soft pair of lips pressed themselves to your temple in a lingering kiss. You smiled then opened your eyes, gasping in surprise to find Ketch propped up on one elbow, grinning at you.

"Good morning, darling," he drawled. "I see you drew the short straw for patient watch duties," he quipped.

You giggled. "Good morning to you, Arthur. We didn't draw straws, I came down here of my own accord," you assured him. "Now that we're both conscious, what would you like for breakfast? I can make eggs, pancakes, French toast, omelets so take your pick," you remarked.

"I see this is a full-service infirmary," he chuckled. "In that case, I would love an omelet with whatever ingredients you have on hand, along with a few rashers of bacon? Perhaps a few slices of buttered toast? If I may, that is," Ketch replied.

"Absolutely, it's no problem at all. I think I have some onions, mushrooms, some diced ham and definitely cheese," you remarked, rising from your chair. "Give me a few minutes to take a shower, then I'll get all that put together for you and bring it in here," you said.

"Sounds wonderful, love. In the meantime, could you perhaps help me to the toilet facilities?" Ketch asked.

"Here, I've got it," Sam called out, much to your relief.

"Thank you, Sam," you replied. "I'll be back as soon as I can with your breakfast," you said over your shoulder as you left the infirmary.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Did she stay here all night?" Ketch asked as Sam helped him to the bathroom.

Sam shrugged. "She might have, I dunno. All I know is that after dinner, she was researching something. Next thing I knew, she had given Dean a list of stuff to get at the supermarket and a craft store today," he replied.

"A craft store?!? What on earth would she need from there?" Ketch asked incredulously.

Sam hesitated before answering. It was a perfectly normal question, but to answer it would give away your surprise of a British-style Christmas for Ketch. "She has a project she's working on, and I can't tell you any more than that right now," he answered.

Ketch eased his way back into his bed, being careful to prop up his sprained ankle. "Hmm. Certainly very mysterious, Sam. In any case, whatever it is she's working on will undoubtedly be a rousing success," he remarked.

After about 30 minutes, you reentered the infirmary, breakfast tray in hand. "Here we are, breakfast is ready!" you grinned. You waited until Ketch seemed settled and ready to be served. "We have an omelet with onions, diced ham, mushrooms and cheese, six slices of bacon and four slices of buttered toast. Let me tell you, getting six slices of bacon set aside for you with Dean around was nothing short of a miracle," you chattered.

Ketch looked at the plate of breakfast fare before him and his mouth began to water. "This looks fabulous, darling. Thank you," Ketch remarked softly.

You felt your cheeks grow warm at the compliment and the endearment. "Well," you replied shakily. "Ring when you're done or if you need anything else. I have some Christmas preparations to attend to. A surprise for you-um, I mean, ev-everyone," you stammered.

"What are you up to, my little minx?" Ketch said as he playfully narrowed his gaze.

"N-nothing, Arthur. Well, something, but you'll see when the time is right," you replied with a wink as you left the infirmary. You tried to slow your hammering heart from his flirting in the amount of time it took to walk back to the library.

While you waited for Dean to return from the errands you'd given him, you tidied up the kitchen from making breakfast. By the time you had finished the dishes, Dean had returned from the supermarket and the craft store. He assisted you with preparing the fresh turkey for roasting in the oven and helped clean and cut the vegetables.

Once dinner was in the oven, you turned your attention to making the Christmas Crackers and paper crowns. Sam popped in to check your progress, and to see if he could help you with anything. You sent him to one of the bunker's storage rooms, #12, because you had seen some Christmas decorations while snooping around one day.

What Sam had found was a tree, lights, some garland and you added your box of ornaments from your childhood. He called Dean in to the library, and the two of them got to work putting up the tree and decorating it. You continued to work on constructing the Christmas Crackers until you had a decent supply of them, all ready for popping.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You took a short break and went to your room for some packages you'd bought earlier in the week. When you returned to the library, you brought out your stocking and the ones you had purchased for each of the boys. One for Sam, one for Dean and one for Arthur, because you knew they were hunting together around the holiday. You bought Arthur a stocking in the hope that he would maybe stick around the bunker and celebrate.

After bringing out the stockings and ornaments, you went into the kitchen to check on dinner. The closer you got to the kitchen, the more something didn't smell quite right. "Oh, no no no no no," you panicked. You quickened your pace and yanked open the oven door, only to have a cloud of thick smoke come rolling out of it. “Dammit!” you shouted.

Sam must have been right behind you and reached the kitchen in time to see the cloud coming from the oven. He yelled for Dean, who gently but firmly ushered you out of the way so he could help Sam to get rid of the smoke. They brought in a couple of large industrial-sized floor fans to push the smoke from the kitchen and out the back door.

You sank into one of the chairs at the Map Table, numbly staring at the floor. Silent tears streamed steadily down your face. You couldn't understand what went wrong, how Christmas dinner was now ruined. As soon as it was safe, you were going back to the kitchen to clean up your mess and figure out what happened.

Sam and Dean walked over to you at the Map Table. Each of them laid a hand on your shoulders and knelt in front of you. You slowly lifted your head to look at them. "Are you guys okay? Anyone get burned or anything?" you asked, your voice thick with emotion.

"No, we're fine. We had to throw out dinner, pan and all. I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I know what this meant to you," Dean replied softly.

You gave a half-hearted shrug. "It's not your fault, Dean, or yours Sam. It was mine. Somewhere I made a mistake, and now dinner is ruined. I really wanted this to be a special dinner. For all of us, but especially for Arthur.

"I really wanted to give him a bit of home, observe some English traditions. I doubt he's had an opportunity to celebrate many Christmases in his current and former line of work, much like us. I guess I can't even do that right," you sniffled. "If you guys don't mind, I think I want to be alone for a while," you said as you stood up from your chair, headed for your room.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ketch cleared his throat as a way to announce his presence. "Lads? Is everything all right? I heard shouting and smelled smoke," he asked. Ketch had found a pair of crutches and hobbled his way into the War Room.

Sam explained to Ketch what had happened, that you had researched British Christmas traditions. He said you were trying to make a traditional British Christmas dinner for all of them, but that it somehow went wrong. "She went to check on dinner, but when she opened the oven door, a bunch of smoke came rolling out. She's pretty upset about it, too. Wanted to make this special for all of us, but especially for you," Sam finished.

"So that's what the little sweetheart was working on, with the craft store list and all," he mused. Ketch felt a warmth in his heart to know that you had gone to such lengths to try and make his Christmas special. Then, he recalled everything you'd done for him since he limped in from the last hunt. You did seem to pay particularly close attention to him and his medical care after the werewolf injuries.

Before Sam mentioned it, Ketch didn't know anything about the type of research you'd done. However, he did remember that you were a bit flustered this morning when talking about your plans for the day. When you add it up, he realized that you'd done those things because you care for him. Maybe even have feelings for him, seeing him as more than a friend.

Ketch started to examine his feelings about you. He's seen how you interact with people, how you give the best of yourself to each and every person. When he limped down the bunker stairs, he noticed how scared and worried you were for him. He saw how you pushed those thoughts to the side in favor of focusing solely on the job of healing his injuries. He knows you're tough enough to run this bunker as well as you do.

But Ketch knows you also have your softer side, with your smile and your laughter, which lighten his heart. When you talk about a particular subject that interests you, your eyes seem to sparkle like the stars in the night sky. And though your hands appear to be soft and delicate, he knows from experience that they are strong and steady. Hands that he wouldn't mind if they explored his body as his hands took their time to learn yours.

"Where is she? I need to speak with her," Ketch asked.

A grinning Sam and Dean both pointed in the direction of your room. They each took a side and escorted Ketch to your bedroom door to make sure he got there safely. Once they were at your door, Sam and Dean left Ketch to speak with you alone, because they had their own mission.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You sat on the edge of your bed for what felt like hours, going over in your mind how things had gone so wrong. The Christmas Crackers had been made, and you thought maybe you should at least share that with Ketch and the boys. You decided to end the self-pity party, and salvage what was left of your attempt at a British Christmas.

As you opened your door, you gasped when you noticed Ketch, standing at your door on his crutches, hand raised as if ready to knock. "Arthur? What are you doing out of bed? Are you all right?" you asked. You took a deep breath to keep yourself from rambling any more. "Please, come in," you said as you guided him into your room and closed the door.

There wasn't anywhere available for Ketch to sit in his current condition, so you helped him to sit up on your bed. His back was against the headboard, with the pillows you put behind him. "I'm just fine, love," Ketch affirmed as he watched you climb up onto the bed, facing him. "Well, I was fine, until I heard about dinner," he replied.

You dropped your gaze to your hands in your lap. "Yeah, me too. I'm so sorry, Arthur. I really wanted to give you a traditional British Christmas. I made Christmas Crackers, which is why Dean had to go to the craft store," you chuckled lightly.

"I confess, I was a bit curious about that when Sam mentioned it," Ketch chuckled in return.

"Well, dinner was supposed to be an oven-roasted turkey with parsnips and Brussels sprouts. That went up in smoke, and I have no idea what I did wrong," you sighed. You looked away, because tears were threatening to start again.

Ketch leaned forward and reached for you to tilt your face up with his index finger. "Maybe it wasn't anything you did, sometimes these things just happen, darling. But, do you know what the upside is?" he asked, to which you shook your head. "You get a chance to make new traditions," he replied with a wink.

"Thank you, Arthur. I appreciate your understanding," you answered shyly.

"I must say, though, I'm flattered. No woman has ever gone to such lengths to capture my attention," he started. "But then again, you've always had it, along with my heart," Ketch remarked softly.

You felt your cheeks get warm again as the meaning behind his words sunk in. "Arthur, what are you saying? That you like me, as in more than a friend?" you whispered as you shifted nearer to him on the bed.

Ketch carefully moved forward, his hand sliding around to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. With your eyes trained on Ketch's face, you inched closer until your mouths were nearly touching. "So beautiful.....," he said as he smiled softly before closing the gap and capturing your lips with his own.

You sighed into the kiss, reveling in the softness of Ketch's lips as they moved in tandem with yours. His tongue swept across your bottom lip requesting entrance, which you readily granted. Your hands moved up to cradle his face, with your thumbs caressing his cheeks. A small moan escaped your lips, which encouraged Ketch to deepen the kiss.

When the kiss broke, it left both you and Ketch trying to catch your breath. "Wow," you whispered. "That was amazing, Arthur," you remarked.

"Even better than I had imagined," Ketch murmured. "Ever since that siren case, I've been thinking what a mistake it was to have left you, my darling. I hope you can forgive me for being away so long," he said.

You shook your head. "Nothing to forgive, Arthur. I understand the nature of this life. As long as you know that there's a heart, right here, waiting for you to come home to," you affirmed.

"How fortunate I am that you have entrusted me with this heart of yours," Ketch murmured. He took your hand and held it to his chest, above his heart. "Then it is only fitting that as I have your heart, so shall you have mine," he declared.

"Sounds like a perfect arrangement. And have no fear, because I will keep it safe," you promised.

You and Ketch continued to talk in your room, with your conversation occasionally punctuated by kisses and tender touches. Some kisses long and luxurious, designed to take your breath away and succeeding in their mission.

Some kisses were hot and feverish, only going so far until you reluctantly pulled back. You were mindful that Ketch was still recuperating from injuries. However, he hinted that he was looking forward to picking up where he left off after receiving an 'all-clear' on his recovery. Ketch was pleased to see the color rise in your cheeks at his suggestion.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

While you and Ketch were sorting things out between you, Sam and Dean had run into town to replace the ruined turkey dinner. Fortunately, your favorite Chinese restaurant was still open, so they brought back a variety of entrées and appetizers to choose from.

You fixed a plate for Arthur, complete with a little of everything. You placed it in front of him and leaned down for a slow, tender kiss, which he was all too willing to give. This turn of events did not go unnoticed by Sam and Dean, though neither of them said anything. Dean, however, gave you a knowing wink and squeezed your shoulder as you fixed a plate for yourself.

After dinner was finished and the leftovers were put away, you suggested for you all to watch a Christmas movie. You helped Arthur to get situated in a corner of the couch, his right leg stretched out parallel to the back cushions.

Once he was comfortable, he held out his arms, inviting you to snuggle with him. You carefully positioned yourself between his legs, your back leaning against his chest. You covered your bottom halves with the quilt your mother had made for you. Ketch closed his arms around you and took both of your hands, intertwining your fingers with his. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, drawing a sigh of contentment from you.

For some unknown reason, Dean was allowed to pick the movie for the evening. For a moment, you thought he was going to pick Die Hard. However, he picked White Christmas, because he knew it was your favorite. From within Ketch's arms, you turned as best as you could to catch Dean's attention and sent him a silent thanks. He winked back and settled in to watch the show.

When the movie was over, Sam and Dean noticed that you and Ketch had both fallen asleep. The boys chuckled, but were happy that you'd found each other and finally confessed your feelings. "They look so cute together," Sam remarked.

"Disgustingly so," Dean agreed. He reached down and gently shook your shoulder, which was enough to wake you.

In turn, you nudged Ketch to wake him up. "Arthur?" you mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Mmm, yes darling?" he replied.

"Time to wake up, so we can go to bed," you murmured as you slowly stood. You held out your hands to assist him in getting up from the couch. Once Ketch managed to maneuver into a standing position, he wrapped his arms around you.

"Shall we, sweetheart?" Ketch asked, then he pecked your lips.

"Right this way, my love," you answered, handing him the crutches. When he had them under control, you slowly walked to your room. You nudged open the door with your foot as you guided Ketch through to the inside. "Bed's big enough for two. Unless you'd rather sleep alone in the drafty infirmary?" you questioned.

"No, no, this is fine. I know I said something about dinner and dancing before you get me into bed. But I suppose it would be all right, since we've done dinner and a movie," he quipped, a sly grin crossing his face.

You giggled, remembering his earlier attempts at flirtation while injured. "You're right, we have had dinner and a movie. Not sure you're ready for dancing quite yet, though," you replied. "Can't wait for that," you remarked huskily.

Ketch climbed back up into the bed as he had done before and waited for you to come out of the bathroom in your pajamas. You were dressed in red plaid flannel pajama pants and a rock band T-shirt. Ketch held his arm out for you to snuggle up to him, resting your head on his shoulder. Once you were settled, he curled his arm around you, holding you close to his side.

You wrapped your left arm around Ketch's midsection and tilted your head up to catch a glimpse of his ocean-blue eyes. Ketch leaned in to press his lips to your forehead, then pulled back a little to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "What are you thinking, my love?" he asked.

"I'm thinking....we didn't get to celebrate with the Christmas Crackers I made," you pretended to pout, then broke into a shy smile. "Nah, what I'm really thinking is how happy I am to have you in my life. I love you, Arthur," you replied softly.

"Well, I was kind of anxious to see how your Christmas Crackers turned out, so I could compare them to what I remember from childhood," he remarked. His response earned him a playful swat on his chest from you, then he tightened his embrace a little. "I also am happy to have you in my life, darling. I love you too," he declared, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, sweet kiss.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @janicho88 @yourelivingwrong @akshi8278 @magssteenkamp @swiftlymoniquesblog @lyarr24 @miss-nerd95 @distefano123 @hobby27 @deanwanddamons @jessica-noel94 @wayward-mikaelson @jawritter @jensengirl83 @supernatural-jackles @deangirl93 @ellewritesfix05 @idreamofplaid @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @winchesterprincessbride

[luobingmeis]

☕️ bakugou katsuki :)

[just as a general statement: i’m only at the start of season 4 !!!]

okay i LOVE bakugo like tbh i spent seasons 1 and 2 being like “oh my god i love him he’s such a shithead” but then once season 3 happened w/ the training camp and everything after i was like “oh..... OH..............” and also bc i think s3 is really when we start to see him.......... kinda reach out to his classmates? like i dont even remember the context or what he said but i remember early s3 thinking to myself “oh hey bakugo just..... gave his own form of motivation”

but like........ here is where bakugo GETS ME like, the fight he and deku had after the provisional licensing exam......... holy shit like 

1) of all things, i thought bakugo was going on the “i hate myself bc i was too weak and i got caught” route, which would’ve been heartbreaking in itself!!!! but instead we got “i hate myself bc i was too weak and i got caught and that in turn destroyed the hero i’ve admired my entire life and all might absolutely blames me” and that like. really got me tbh like i’ve always seen bakugo as a character whose pride will be his downfall and i think they really did it in such an interesting way bc bakugo truly blames himself for what happened to all might, even after all might assures him that he was going to lose his power anyway, and it just. makes me really sad, you know? bc yeah bakugo can be. aggressive. to say the least. but he’s still a kid, you know? and all might obviously cares for his students and he truly felt like he failed as bakugo’s teacher because bakugo was feeling so guilty and like. thinking back? i think we really do see that guilt? or at least the Effects of that guilt? and it makes me big sad :( not to mention the fact that, maybe it was just my interpretation, but the bakugo we see kidnapped by the LOV seemed to be scared, in his own way? like if im remembering correctly, he was like “you assholes won’t kill me, you want me for your league” but he was still Actually Thinking about his movements and what he was going to do? and during the fight with all for one, he actually admitted to himself that he was stuck? that he couldn’t get away from the LOV and therefore all might couldn’t fight to his full potential bc of the collateral damage? and just like to see bakugo Actually Accept that he’s in a bad situation + the guilt like........ oh boy

2) and also bakugo and deku’s actual fight was top tier holy shit like. the fact that deku was like “i’m not going to back down from this fight, not only am i the only one who understands what bakugo is going through and i know he needs to blow off some steam, but i’m also going to show him that he can’t push me around anymore” and bakugo like....... genuinely being upset that he beat deku? like i just keep thinking abt him asking all might why he chose deku to have one for all, especially bc bakugo then asks something along the lines of “but don’t you see that i’m weak now, too?” like.......... the fight was just so good and we saw how deku has progressed and made one for all his own quirk and also like. we almost see this tragic downfall-esque moment for bakugo? like bakugo’s fatal flaw is his pride and how he sees Any Type Of Help as a sign that he’s weak, and he finally felt this true moment of “everything i have done in my life has been wrong.” like, when he asks deku, “does this mean everything i’ve done to become just like all might has been wrong?” oh boy............. like i really want bakugo to learn that help =/= weakness, and even all might pointed it out that, while deku admires bakugo’s desire to win, bakugo “fears deku’s spirit” bc deku always acts with the intention to help others, and bakugo has always viewed that type of..... team work as a sign of weakness. i think it’s why he’s always going off on his own (like in the licensing exam), though hot take i wouldn’t be surprised if his penchant for doing his own thing is also tied to his guilt over what happened with all might

also though his friendship with kirishima???? top tier like tbh i love how kirishima seems to kinda see through bakugo and they really do seem to get each other :’)

i think my main thing with bakugo, and maybe this is a little too much heart-on-my-sleeve, but i kinda tend to have a bit of a soft spot for characters who are Angry A Lot like. maybe this sounds dumb but it’s very much this protective feeling of “ik what it’s like to be so consumed by anger that it sometimes feels like it’s the core of your personality and God do i want to see you heal” but i think that might be some projection on my end akjdsjkdjkds like i just get a bit sad bc bakugo, along with all the students, are Kids and the show doesn’t let you forget that they are Kids who always happen to be at the wrong place in the wrong time and it’s just like. i want him + all the characters to be able to heal

also tbh ik she’s only been seen like.......... twice but i have :/ thoughts :/ on bakugo’s mom and this is DEFINITELY projection but it really stood out to me how the way she described his quirk was “stupid awesome” in kinda a dismissive way and how she has that same aggressive behavior and. okay. that might have been for comedic effect like “ahahaha see how similar they are!!” like i get it and it also got a few chuckles out of me but also like. i am :/ bc parental figures play a Big Role in the show (such as deku’s love for his mom while all might essentially stands in as a father figure, todoroki having to actually address the hate he has towards his father [though i have hmm thoughts abt his situation with his mom too], and tbh i’ll even put iida with his older brother here bc of how much his goals align with making his brother/family proud) and it Really stands out to me how bakugo’s mom shares his anger/aggressive behavior but also seems to see him like. the rest of the world sees him. like while she did show care in being like “obviously i was worried about him, but when aizawa said that the LOV wouldn’t break his spirit, i knew he was in the right hands,” but i am overall very warily :/ at how similar they are, especially in a show that has already shown the depths of parental/guardian influence on its main cast of teenagers

and also there’s already been stuff said about how deku and bakugo eerily parallel all might and endeavor, right? like someone has already wrote a think-piece about that? bc with a show that actually has a very big commentary on breaking cycles of abuse (especially with todoroki), i am Big Eyes Emoji

(this isn’t to like. brush aside the mean things bakugo has done/said to deku and the other characters but like. i think it’s more than just “oh he’s just an asshole” like yeah he’s definitely abrasive and aggressive and jaded but it stems from this overwhelming sense of pride + a warped view of what it means to be a hero) (bc he really did only view being a hero as Winning and while that’s definitely a part of it, he ignored the more emotional side of it) (also don’t get me wrong his pride drives me up the wall a lot, especially thinking back to the sports festival, and again maybe this is me thinking too much or projecting, but it’s very obvious that he was heralded from the moment his quirk developed and that immediately made a recipe for disaster)

tldr: i love bakugo! a lot! he drives me up a wall but GOD get this kid some therapy <3

[sushisketching]

Doing that thing

OC Interview to procrastinate on work

Introduction (IBS)

1. Can you introduce yourself? "Raziel, Uh... One of many commanders of the Pact." He scratches his head, trying to think of other things to say. "The love of my life calls me a salad sometimes. I'd rather be called a feast, but it'll work."

2. What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship "I think I'm a male. I've checked. I..." He looks over at the camera, smiling. "Used to like to tumble with anybody willing. But considering I have a partner now, I don't think she'd enjoy others joining us." 3. Where and when were you born? "28 years ago, in the Grove, supposedly of the Dusk cycle. Though I don't have the brains." 4. What is your weapon of choice and fighting style? "Right from the pod, I could feel the world hum and the tides scream at me. I studied basic elemental magic in the Grove, but travelled to Elona soon after. Picked up a sword and a dagger and they felt right to me. I'm..." He looks away for a few seconds, guilt gleaming. "I'm intensely reckless. I hope that I'm less now so, after everything that I've been through." 5. Lastly, are you happy? "I was born before being forced into the dragon wars, but... now... There's still a threat of them. I've been happy many times, but now it lasts longer with Serafin here." Family and Friends

1. What's your family like? What's your relationship with them? "The answer to that is intensely convoluted. The Pale Tree is my mother, but more of a symbol of guidance than anything. I was born with a pod-sister, her name was once Nyrene, but it's Nyfuse now. When people see me they think I'm loud. Then they meet my sister. Even if she's ridiculous, she's taken a liking to deceptions rather than elements." 2. Have you ever ran away from home? "The Grove is a beautiful and serene place." There's a sense of sarcasm to this. "But yes. Once. Next question."

3. Would you consider marriage or having children? "After the dragons are gone, then I'll consider everything else. And I need to have some secrets. But I can't have children. They scare me as well, so what's the point?" He looks at the camera, saw it shaking with laughter. "Next question." 4. Do you secretly hate one of your friends? "If I hated someone, they could tell. I could tell. I'm bad at lying." 5. Which friend knows everything about you? "Alfuse. My sister's lover is a spy, a thief, after all. But I've told him so many things even before they were together. And... Grayson Embersmith." He looks at the ground, ashamed. "Knew him for a majority of my life, before... Before Orr had happened." Asked by fans??

1. Are you literate? Have you been to school? "I can read and write and talk just as well as the next person. But the first two years of my life were hell, because words didn't sling together naturally for me. If the Priory counts as a school, sure, I've been to a school." 2. The eeriest prediction you made that later came true? "I told Embersmith that one of us would probably die in Arah. Or earlier. I thought it would be me." 3. What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize? "How much I hated to love Serafin. So many fine lines, and I thought with my 20 years of living I'd have figure out the difference. But she's still here. That's a good sign." 4. Do you have mental / physical issues? "I have a lot of scars from our Salvation raid. And a few mental issues. PTSD. That sort. I'd rather not think about it more than I have to. I think the worst memory I have was watching my sister get half-Branded, losing her sight a while back. And other things up there too. There's too much to talk about. Move on. Next question." His eyes are glazed with anger and sadness, hands fidgeting. 5. What is your current main goal? "To live. See the next day. Find rest in this turmoil and chaos. We're still waiting for news about the next dragon to kill." Choices!

1. Drinks or food? "I drink too much water. Maybe being an elementalist has something to do with that, I don't know." 2. Cats or dogs? "I love them both." His mouth tightens, his voice a whisper. "I like cats more." 3. Early bird or night owl? "I love both. I tend to see both. I may not have many brains, but I still have commands to dish out, and reports to check. But if anything, I like it when my dearest is up, and she's usually up late." His wooden skin glows with amber lines looking at whoever's holding the camera. 4. Optimist or pessimist? "I used to look at the world and all its problems and cruelty. After Arah... I'd rather look at the brighter things, see what I can get that's good to me. Embersmith would've wanted for me to look for good things after all." 5. Sassy or sarcastic? "It's all the sass. I am sass. Gotta be brash and bold and hot to be a commander, after all." Have you ever 1. Been caught sneaking out? "I hated night duty. Snuck out right at dusk with my friends and drink the night away. Always got yelled at when I came back to my post, saw a commander lose his mind after us leaving. Those were good times." 2. Broke a bone? "Yes. Tried to climb a tree drunk; broke my arm falling out. Tried to get a dolyak's hide and broke my ankle there. Lost my arm and a leg before. Got stabbed in the chest once too. All part of the job. Except the tree thing. Don't try to climb moving oakhearts while drunk. Awful idea." 3. Received flowers? "After Claw Island, I got flowers for respects to my mentor. I barely knew them, but she... was a very kind sylvari. And after Arah, for Embersmith. I hated getting those things. Didn't think I deserved to be there, after all, I played a part in their deaths." 4. Ghosted someone? "Once, when I was infused with too much magic. Sometimes being one of Aurene's champions causes me to lose control, usually after a nightmare. One time I tried casting a small curse to make someone's skin turn blue, but rather they turned transparent. We fixed it later though." 5. Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn't get "Too many times. Political parties are jokes. The real joke is when they go stumbling up to me when drunk and ask me why I'm drinking. They seem to misunderstand my age?" Whirrrr done ok bye

[ak47stylegirl]

Sick days: Chapter 11

Okay here’s chapter 11! XD 

Poor Allie isn’t having a good time at all 😞😟😭This cold is really being horrible to him, and he’s struggling to deal with it. (Partly because of his age, he’s still very much young child, the poor baby 😥)

Anyway I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 😁

Rest of the chapters found here. 

---

Alan pov

He blinked his eyes open; his vision was blurry as he took in his room. It was still dark out, the sun having not risen yet. It was still night-time. He squinted at the digital clock on his bedside table, trying to see what time it actually was.

12:43 am  

He groaned in misery, rolling over to lay on his other side. He has been up for the last 30 minutes now, and no matter what he did, he couldn't get back to sleep! His head felt like a balloon about to pop, his horrible headache not going away for even a moment, and his nose would not stop running, so he needed to blow and wipe it frequently.

Which kept him up and made his nose burn like fire. 

His throat felt like someone had poured hot metal down it, and it hurt so, so much to breathe. And it seemed like he was solely breathing through his mouth, unable to get any air through his swollen nose. 

And that made it hurt so much more! He thought as he broke out into coughing fit, spluttering everywhere as he tried to sit up a bit to lessen the feeling that he was suffocating. His arms gave out beneath him, causing him to collide cheek first with his pillow. 

He whimpered, still coughing slightly. He didn’t feel well, not even a little bit, he thought as he rolled over again, this time onto his back. He felt like he was drowning in sweat, he felt so overwhelmingly hot and feverish he was surprised he hasn’t combusted into flames yet. 

But at the same time, he was also shivering from the cold; he felt so weird. He was cold, then he was hot, then he was freezing, then he was boiling, and it started all over again! 

His blanket was discarded at his feet as he had kicked it off a while ago and he just didn’t have the energy to...to-

He sneezed into the open air, watching with tired watery eyes as the sneeze particles floated in the air above him, before landing back down on his face. He sniffled damply, feeling another sneeze building before launching forward, catching it with his hand. 

Only to realise that he now had snot all over his hand and face, thick gunky snot running down to his chin. He moaned as he reached blindly for a tissue, wiping his nose with what felt like sandpaper. 

He blew into the tissue, making his ears pop and his head hurt. He could hear himself groan, even to his own ears, he sounded dreadfully sick and congested. 

Maybe if he could just fall asleep, he'd feel better, he thought as he rolled on to his side again, throwing the tissue off the bed. 

He didn’t care where it landed; he felt too sick to care about anything. He looked at the clock one last time.

12:57 am

He whimpered and closed his eyes tight, forcing himself to focus on sleep and not how terribly sick and tired he felt. He just needed to sleep; he felt so tired, he just wanted some sleep…

He felt himself drift off…

---

1:34 am 

He stared at the number, barely able to think straight as he continued to stare and stare. He had only been asleep for half an hour, and he couldn’t even really call that sleep. He had been constantly tossing and turning, on the edge of sleep, but his body refused to let him get there. 

He wailed softly, covering his eyes with his arms as he started to sob. He just wanted to sleep, why was that so hard?! Salty tears ran down his cheek and down the sides of his nose, causing his already sore and swollen runny nose to burn. 

He sniffled, his nose running so much that his upper lip was starting to get really sore as it was constantly moist. He wiped at his nose haphazardly, trying to stop the flow to no avail.

His breath caught, and he started to hitch, sneezing all over himself once again. For the next couple of minutes, all he did was sneeze and wipe his nose, falling into a foul trance of misery. 

He groaned, wet tissue held over his burning red nose. He hesitantly removed it and threw it away, thinking the sneezing fit was over for the moment, but then his nostrils flared, and his breath caught again, and the cycle started all over again. 

As he reached for another tissue, his eyes watering immensely, he saw the time on his clock. 

2:04 am. 

He stared, his hand frozen in mid-air just above the tissue box, his nose dripping relentlessly. 

He has been sneezing and wiping his nose for almost half an hour; he realised in horror as his nose started to protect not being tended to soon enough as it began to flare and twitch. 

An unbearable itch built in his nostrils, causing him to gasp and hitch as he desperately tried to grab a tissue and bring it up to his nose in time, but it was too late, he launched forward and sneezed all over himself and his side table. 

He groaned in misery, collapsing back down against his pillow, tissue held to his nose. This was going to be a long night…

---

He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable no matter what he did. He felt so hot and bothered, but he also felt so cold, so he was constantly pulling his blanket back on or removing it. 

He sneezed into his pillow, which turned into a throat tearing coughing fit. He moaned as he wiped his nose, he just couldn’t win...

He coughed again and heaved himself up on his elbows, starting to cough so harshly he was almost gagging. He felt like he was going to be sick as his chest rattled with each painful cough, his elbows starting to shake and tremble beneath him.

All of his limbs felt like lead and were getting harder to move each minute he couldn’t get to sleep; he felt so light-headed and weak. His elbows finally gave way, causing him to slam suddenly into his pillow mid cough, making it one thousand times more painful. 

He glanced over at his clock and groaned, covering his eyes with his arms.

2:40 am

---

Just as he was about to fall slightly asleep, nature decided to call and complain that they haven’t talked since yesterday morning. In other words, he was bursting to go to the toilet, he thought with a groan, clenching his stomach.

He felt so exhausted and so, so very sick and out of it at this point that he was tempted to just go where he laid instead of getting up. It wasn’t like his brothers would be surprised by it because after all, he has a history of accidentally wetting the bed from time to time. 

And it was becoming a serious challenge just to hold it, he thought with a whimper, crawled up into a slight ball, his legs held tightly together. And he was sure if he didn’t get up soon, he would have an accident no matter what. 

It was only the fact that he would have to lay in his mess for the rest of the night, (Or get Scott and tell him he wet the bed, either way, he would still need to get up...) that made him slowly sit up and swing his legs off the edge of the bed. 

He pushed himself off the bed, and instantly regretted it, having stood up too fast. He latched onto the bedside table swallowing deeply as he suddenly felt dreadfully dizzy and nauseous. 

He swallowed deeply, almost having an accident there and then, but he was able to catch himself with only a little bit escaping, wetting his undies slightly. But unfortunately, it was wet enough to make the need to go even more intense. 

He whimpered, making his way out of his room the quickest he could, stepping out into the dark, empty hallway. His bare feet touched the cold wood floor, causing shivers to run down his spine. 

He didn't like the dark, and he was suddenly freezing, shivering where he stood. 

(which did not make holding his bladder any easier, his wet undies were freezing cold against his skin.) 

He clenched his door handle, scared to wander into the dark, but his need to go to the toilet overpowered his fear. 

He leaned heavily against the wall for support as he made his way to the toilet room, navigating the hallway the best he could in the state he was in. It was like every step he made seemed to drain his energy more and more, he thought with a little groan, turning left of Gordon’s bedroom and into a little mini hallway. 

The bathroom door was to his right, adjacent Gordon’s bedroom and the toilet room was right in front of him, at the end of the hallway. The momentary relief was almost instantly replaced with horror as his control over his bladder started to slip away at an alarmingly fast speed.

And what followed was a mad dash to turn the toilet room light on, close the door, lift the toilet lid, get his pants and undies down and do all that before he fully and thoroughly wet himself. 

After he finished doing his business, somehow just making it in time with his pyjama pants and undies only getting slightly wet. He stepped out of the toilet room feeling drained of all of his energy, the adrenaline-filled run having used all of it up.

His head was throbbing from the sudden light change, and now that his bladder wasn’t screaming at him anymore, all the other things that had been ailing him all night started to speak up, he thought with a congested sniffle, entering the bathroom. 

He turned the bathroom light on, whimpering slightly at the brightness of the room. The itch in his nose, which he had started to dread feeling, came back full force and left him sneezing multiple times into his elbow, the world spinning around him.  

He grabbed the door frame to steady him, for a second feeling like he was going to throw up. He sniffled damply, his nose dripping immensely, but he didn’t have any tissues on him, so he wiped his nose with his palm.

And almost started crying as his swollen red nose screamed at him, stinging so much that his eyes began to water even more. He sniffled, he just wanted to sleep….

He slowly made his way to the sink, pushing the little stool that normally stood to the side, in front of the sink. He needed the stool to reach the sink, as he was still too small to reach it on his own. 

He stepped onto the stool and turned the tap on, washing his hands with soap like his brothers’ taught him, the cold water feeling nice against his hot, feverish skin. He glanced up at the mirror in front of him and felt his shoulders drop; he looked just as sick and exhausted as he felt...

His eyes were red-rimmed and watery, with dark purple shallows developing under them. His skin was blotchy and covered in sweat, really pale in places but also flushed red from fever in other places, like his cheeks. And the thing that stood out the most, the thing that had been causing him the most misery, was his nose. 

It was rubbed raw, a bright irritated red that stood out against his otherwise pale skin; thick oozing snot hanging out of his inflamed nostrils.  

He stepped down from the stool and walked out of the bathroom, forgetting to turn the lights off as he made his way back to his bedroom in a daze, feeling too sick and exhausted for his brain to function correctly. 

He collapsed belly first onto his bed with a groan, crawling up to his pillow and crawling up into a ball of misery, catching a glimpse of the time.

3:38 am

---

The sun was taunting him! Because with every inch it crawled higher into the sky, lighting his room up, was another minute of possible sleep slipping from his fingers like sand. 

The sun rising was concrete proof of how little sleep he has gotten, and his sick body was struggling to function on so little sleep. His symptoms had steadily worsened as his body gave way to the cold virus that was wracking his system, unable to fight properly in its exhausted state. 

He coughed weakly, staring blankly up at his ceiling, his eyes glazed over with fever and fatigue. His nose decided it wanted in on the ‘fun’ and started to itch, his red nostrils getting damper by the minute. 

He brought his hand up as he hitched and gasped, the itch in his nose getting unbearable until-

He launched forward and sneezed into his hand, some of the stray missing his hand and floating in the air above him. He sniffled and instantly regretted it as that triggered another sneeze, this one bigger and more out of control than the last. 

Which was followed by another one, and another. By the time he was done sneezing, his nose was streaming relentlessly, and his hand and lower face was covered in snot. 

He groaned in agony, coughing slightly as he reached for a tissue. He gently wiped his nose and upper lip, whimpering as the tissue tore across his swollen nose like sandpaper. He threw the used tissue away and grabbed another one with a stuffy sniffle, being it up to his nose and blowing into it.

His ears popped and his head screamed, his headache worsening. He blinked wetly up at the ceiling, tissue still held over his nose, a couple of tears leaking out of the side of his barely opened eyes. He was so tired...

He sniffled into the tissue, his nose starting to feel irradiated and itchy again. His stomach churned at the sensation, dread filling his entire being as he began to hitch and gasp again, before launching forward and sneezing into the already soaked tissue.

Five more powerful and moist sneezes followed, each getting messier and more out of control. By the time he was finally finished sneezing, he was shaking, and tissue in his hand had almost pulp, completely soaked through.

He moaned as he dropped it off the bed, reaching for another tissue but his hand met thin air. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he sat up slightly and reached for the tissue box, spotting the time on his clock briefly.

4:25 am 

His tissue box was empty; he had no more fresh tissues, he realised as he stared down at the empty box, his nose starting to twitch and flare again as another sneeze built. He sneezed all over himself and all over the bedside table, unable to cover in time.

He swayed where he sat, feeling so awfully sick and light-headed, in desperate need of sleep but unable to get any. He collapsed back down onto his pillow with a groan, his bottom lip trembling as he tried to keep the tears away. 

His nose was running, and no amount of sniffling was going to stop it. And to make things even worse, he sneezed again, causing the snot to run even more. He rolled onto his side and spotted a scrunched up tissue lying near the edge of his bed; he grimaced as he reached for it, bringing it up to his nose.

Using the dirty tissue wasn’t pleasant; it was damp and soaked already, the moisture irritating his nose as it was rubbed across his nose. But It was better than using his hand, even if it still left his nose somewhat wet. 

---

He heard Scott get up for his morning run a while ago, which told him it was around five in the morning. And his clock confirmed that fact.

5:24 am 

He would have called out to Scott, (oh he so wanted to) but he just didn’t have the energy, and his throat felt like someone took a razor blade to it, and then poured molten tar down it, so he really couldn’t...

Everything hurt so much, he thought with a whimper, crawled into a ball facing his window. His nose was one hundred times worse now ever since he had to start using the dirty used tissues, his nose glistening with moisture as it glowed bright irritated red. 

He could barely keep his eyes open, and he was flashing in and out of sleep, never able to stay asleep for more than a couple of minutes at most. He could barely move, his limbs feeling boneless and immensely heavy, not wanting to work for him.

The whole act of reaching for a tissue and blowing/wiping his nose, was so exhausting, leaving him so drained. He felt so hot and bothered, his pyjamas soaked with sweat. But he was also getting cold chills, which left him shivering and shaking where he laid. 

One minute he was overwhelmingly hot, and then the other, he was freezing cold, wishing for his blanket which he had kicked off the bed.

He didn’t have the energy to sit up and get it; he barely had the strength to blow his nose, let alone do that, he thought as he broke into a coughing fit, his chest heaving and rattling with each cough. 

He just wanted to get some sleep, any sleep, he thought with a damp sniffle, a used tissue clenched in his hand. He sniffled again, before sneezing into his pillow. 

He brought the tissue up and dabbed at his nose, feeling too weak to do much else. The dirty tissue didn’t really work; it just spread the snot around instead of wiping it up. 

It felt like he was wiping wet sandpaper back and forth his sore nose. His upper lip was feeling the pain as well, seeing as his runny nose dripped onto it.

And he was breathing through his mouth, which was starting to chap and dry his lips out and in turn made them sore. 

He heard voices in the hallway, which sound like Scott and Virgil. Scott must have gotten back from his run, he thought, coughing as he glanced over at his clock. 

5:47 am 

Usually, six or six-thirty was the time Scott and Virgil would get them up for school, Scott getting up an hour earlier to fit in his morning run. John and Virgil woke up earlier than him or Gordon as well, but he knew for Virgil it was out of necessity, not a choice. 

He didn’t know if John was a morning person or not, he was normally gone by the time he woke up, as John had to catch a train into the city and be at his collage by eight at the latest. 

He sniffled, before starting to hitch, breaking into a loud and messy sneezing fit, which was followed by an equally violent coughing fit. 

The hallway went silent.

His bedroom door cracked open, causing him to look over with a sickly groan. Scott was standing in the doorway, his hair wet from his morning shower, with a concerned expression on his face.

“Allie, are you okay?” Scott asked softly, opening the door a little more. “You don’t need to be up yet sweetie..”

He blinked, his exhausted brain taking a while to realise that Scott, his big brother, was standing right there, but once it did? His face scrunched up, all of the night’s frustrations and sorrows rising to the surface. 

And he burst into tears, wailing loudly.

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 22 | 23 | 24

‘Come on, come on, come on, Lucy please pick up!’

“Sorry I’m not available to take your call. Please leave a message at the beep.”

“Fuck!” Natsu clicks off before the beep and chucks his phone at his bed. He’d already left numerous voice mails and text messages over the last week, the desperation growing with each one, but they’d all gone unanswered or unread. If he left anymore Lucy just might block him and he didn’t want that to happen.

All he needed was a chance, one chance. Even though their interactions were few between meeting on the train, the phone, and the cafe, it still should have provided him with some credibility. So how after just one encounter could she believe Touka over him? He didn’t understand. Of course, Gray’s take on it all was well, women tend to be more emotional. Maybe Lucy’s decision to react wasn’t because she necessarily believed Touka’s story. Perhaps she’s been cheated on before or slighted by a guy. Natsu shouldn’t try to rationalize it based on only his own experiences. His friend might be right, but he still wanted to hear it from Lucy’s own mouth. Didn’t he deserve at least that much?

Why hasn’t she blocked him yet? Did it mean she was still thinking about everything, processing it, or simply hadn’t had a chance to? Okay, that last one doesn’t make any sense considering how easy it easy to block a number on a cellphone. It gave him hope things weren’t over yet, but that unknown made it worse, like being left standing in the cold waiting for the rain to stop falling. Ugh! When will this storm pass? He needed answers or this’ll slowly drive him insane!

So, two days later he makes a crazy decision. “Yes,” he tells Gray, “so don’t stay up waiting for me.”

“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?” Gray crosses his arms, “that’s basically stalking, as in you could go to jail if she complains.”

“I know the consequences, but I don’t see it like that. I just want to talk to her and if she tells me to fuck off, I’ll leave, but at least I got my answer.”

The man shakes his head and starts to walk away. “Never thought I’d see you go so nuts over a girl man. But good luck.”

Night after night, Natsu rides the train at the same time as their first meeting, hoping to run into Lucy. He knew it was a long shot, that their meeting may have been completely at random and she rarely caught the train so late at night. Which made sense considering the dangers of a single woman out alone. But it was his only lead to follow. Her campus was simply too large to wander aimlessly on and he had no idea where she lives. He was determined to see this through no matter how long it took.

Such resolution began to falter by the end of the second week when no sight or sound of the blonde crossed his path. He would sit there growing more and more despondent, getting onto the train and off to start the cycle again in the same route. Even other daily commuters started to notice this odd man sitting on a bench with his head kept low, only to look up at the sound of the doors opening. Natsu must have looked pathetic, and sad, a poor miserable creature lost in a sea of train riders with a story no one knew but could guess based on his appearance.

“Dude, it’s been a month! Just give up already!”

“No way! Tonight, could be the night!”

And it was.

It’d become such a routine, like one of Pavlov’s conditioning experiments. At the sound of the trains door, Natsu’s head pops up ready to scan all the incoming riders. It was nearing 10:30 pm with only one more route for the evening before he’d have to give up and try again tomorrow... but there she was.

Lucy walks into the door at the other end of the car and doesn’t see him immediately. By that hour there’s only a small number of riders so most of the seats were open and she quickly sits down on one. Natsu jumps up and rushes over in his excitement, like a puppy whose master had just come home.

He drops down in a crouch before Lucy and grabs her hand before she can resist or stop him. “Please, don’t scream or anything, I just wanna talk.”

“Oh my god Natsu, you scared the hell out of me!” She tries to pull her hand away, but he simply holds on tighter. “Natsu, there’s a reason I haven’t answered your calls, so take a hint.”

“Oh, come on Lucy, you never even gave me a chance to prove I’m innocent! How could you believe a woman who you just met over me, I thought we at least had a small connection between us.”

Lucy sees a few other riders staring in their direction. In embarrassment, she lowers her voice and grits out a response. “Let go of my hand, get off the floor and sit on the bench before I scream for help.”

“Y-Yes, ma’am,” he scrambles to his feet and takes a seat beside her.

The woman lets out an exasperated sigh. “I really don’t know how you can prove anything to me Natsu. I don’t know either of you, so to protect myself, it’s safer to just walk away.”

“Then get to know me, Luce. That’s all I’m asking for and you’ll see it was all a lie.”

“How would I know you’re not still seeing Touka? It’s not like we’d be together 24/7, so there’s plenty of opportunities for you to juggle the both of us.”

Ugh! He runs his hand down his face in frustration. “Touka is not my girlfriend, has never been my girlfriend, and will never be my girlfriend. She’s been stalking me for a couple years now and you’re not the first girl she’s chased away because she thought they were a rival.”

“Pfft.” Lucy takes out her phone, pulling up Instagram, and tapping away furiously. “Then explain this,” she shows him Touka’s profile. “Pictures of you two that looks like you’re a couple,” she scrolls a few posts down, “and again here, a comment by a N_dragneel with heart shapes. And then!” She changes to that persons profile, shoving her phone in his face, “are you telling me this isn’t you?”

Natsu stares at the profile which appeared to be filled with pictures of him and his life, along with the description stating Natsu loves Touka. “It’s not me,” he states calmly and takes out his own phone, pulling up his Instagram account. “This is me,” he shows her.

“How do I know this isn’t a side account?”

Again, he sighs and clicks on the account information. “See, I have one side blog to post dragon art, and that’s it. She created that fake blog with my name.”

“And the photo’s?!”

“Photoshop or some other free app anyone can download. Lucy I’m telling you the truth, and this isn’t the first time I’m hearing this.” He groans, “this’ll be the third blog I’ll have to report for stealing my identify.”

The tell-tale ding of the trains information board signals they’d arrived at Lucy’s stop. “Look Natsu, I-I just don’t know what to make of all this.” She stands to leave, but he corners her.

“Just one shot, Lucy please! I’ll introduce you my friends, hell I can introduce you to another woman Touka’s harassed and you’ll have to see I’m telling you the truth!”

“Natsu, move.” She clenches her fists in frustration and her adrenaline is making her body shake. “I-I have to go!”

“But Lucy...”

“Please,” moisture builds in her eyes. “Natsu get out of the way.”

Heartbroken and dejected, his shoulders slump and arms drop to his sides as he steps away to let her pass. Lucy adjusts her backpack and starts to walks away but pauses just outside of the door. Without turning around, “Even if you’re telling me the truth Natsu, I have to think long and hard if I’d want to deal with all this drama. I’m sorry.”

The doors close and with it the last pieces still hanging on in Natsu’s heart shatter. She was right. How fair is it to Lucy to be caught in the middle of this stalking war with Touka? He shambles back to his seat and drops as the train moves on to his stop. All he could do was wait and see what she decided. Is he worth the investment?    

[bugmomwrites]

Bloody Knuckles (Satori Tendou x GN!Reader)

A/N: My first time writing for Tendou! He was definitely one of the more multi faceted characters I’ve seen thus far, and I wanted to portray him in a way that wasn’t just an unhinged crackhead and it turns out I’m soft for The Weird Ones With A Heart Of Gold so...yay? 

Give this song a listen while you read!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8GwUos_Mtw&list=LLMufVjq3gMI8bOOKLeFGq4g&index=257

If this takes off and enough people ask/comment/reblog I may write part 2 but no promises

TW: You break someone’s nose so a little blood? You can throw a mean punch in this one. Do with that what you will.

“Hey, I’m sorry for worrying you. Semi kind of exaggerated over the phone but I swear I’m fine.”

Silence.

You gulp. Tendou has already thanked the nurse for cleaning your cuts, and offers to wrap the last couple bandages. Sensing you two needed to be alone, she gives him the roll and quietly tends to the others. The several wrappings on his own hands must have been enough of an indication to them, seeming to say I know what I’m doing! I’ve done this before!, and it wasn’t like it was anything major. If it was something more graphic, say, a gun wound, they might have done it themselves. But here he was, wrapping you up with a level of care and intimacy reserved only for you.

How on earth did he let this happen again? You had been on your way to the gym around the same time he usually finished practice so the two of you could walk home together and hang out after school. Nothing out of the ordinary. You even had his varsity jacket on to block out the chilly autumn breeze, grateful that the sleeves were long enough to go well past your hands. His number 5 stitched onto the back was just the icing on the cake, and you wore it with pride.

Except today had been a little different.

As his s/o, you were very well aware of his past experiences with bullying, how he was labeled a “monster” by his peers; excluded from activities and singled out- sometimes even by the teachers. And while he had initially grown from the experience, feeling much more confident not just with age but with you becoming a vital part of his life as well, that didn’t mean he’d completely forgotten it either. Even though it was much less common in high school, there would still be the rare few that had something nasty say about him, but you didn’t think you’d ever witness it first hand in your third and final year.

As luck would have it, your “good behavior” streak came to a screeching halt when you heard snickers coming a little ways behind you. Frowning, you turned your head just in time to see a cluster of what looked like a few college kids from the team Shiratorizawa practiced against. You wondered briefly what was so amusing to them, when the shortest of the three beckoned you over. Hesitantly, you followed to where they were, just a couple yards away from the gym entrance.

“Can I help you?”, you asked curiously. One of them nodded, leaning down a bit and spoke.

“Yeah, we couldn’t help but wonder- are you dating the infamous Guess Monster of Shiratorizawa? The number on your back looked familiar.”

“Oh you mean Tendou! Yeah, he’s the greatest. Have you guys met him?”, at this they all exchanged incredulous looks before bursting into laughter. You faltered, half expecting that these guys were maybe friends of his, or at least on good terms. Anytime someone would ask you about your boyfriend, you were used to gushing about him to anyone who would listen, so this mockery was unprecedented. 

“Looks like even the Yokai scored a s/o before you did after all, Katsu. Pay up.” The one named Katsu groaned, but reached into his wallet nonetheless and handed over a few paper bills. At this, you frowned. Who the hell did they think they were, speaking so poorly about the man you loved with your whole heart?!

Indignantly, you huffed are them, demanding to know what kind of beef they had with Tendou. They glared down at you, retaliating with some judgmental comments. You couldn’t even remember how it escalated; whether it was a gradual build up or one sole thing that sent you from 0 to 100, but before you knew it hands were being thrown, and the little voice in the back of your mind warning you about utterly stupid you were acting was ultimately silenced.

Being outnumbered, and not to mention much smaller it wasn’t hard for them to land a couple hits on you. Unbeknownst to you Semi passed by the commotion just in time to see two of the guys comforting their friend, who was now holding a bloody nose.

This would have been the perfect time to make your getaway, but after you heard the words “psycho bitch” there was nothing in your veins but pure unadulterated rage, and any momentary relief Semi may have felt at the prospect of the scrap winding down, was shot down almost instantly.

He wasn’t too sure who he should be more worried for, but getting in the middle of it wouldn’t end well for anybody. The sight of maroon blotches on the concrete and smearing over all four of you sent him into a mild panic, as he turned the corner and dialed 911.

“Yeah, Shiratorizawa Academy. Just outside the gym. Thank you. Please hurry.”

He still had one more call to make, although he wasn’t sure if he could do it. Steeling his nerves and swallowing any anxiety that got caught in his throat he tapped the green call button. The dial tone sounded for fifteen long seconds before a cheerful voice finally greeted him on the other line.

“Semi-Semi? I’m right inside. Did you forget something after practice?”

“Tendou! It’s Semi. Hurry outside, it’s urgent.”

“I think the last time I decked somebody on your behalf was before we got to Shiratorizawa. Middle schoolers are ruthless”, you chuckled nervously, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of him. When he still didn’t respond, you cleared your throat.

“Tendou?”, you speak again, but this time your voice is much softer. Much more uncertain. As if you’re afraid to raise your voice out of fear of one or both of you breaking. With a shaky sigh, you reach a newly wrapped hand under his chin.

“Satori.”

This time, his face lifts into your view, and you don’t miss the way his brows furrow with worry, or the way his lips tremble as glossy eyes avert your own. A heavy hand is placed over yours, thumb rubbing gentle circles over the back of your palm.

People had always told you that one of these days that temper of yours would get you into trouble. That was one other difference you had with Tendou- your boyfriend was nicknamed the “Guess Monster” on and off the court, the title coming from his hyper observant nature and uncanny ability to easily read the people around him at a moments notice. Tendou was strategic, often analyzing even the most mundane from seemingly every angle, running the possibilities through his brain before executing a final decision.

You on the other hand? You were impulsive, brash, the patron saint of “act first think later”. You were prone to getting caught up in the moment, and being much more volatile than your romantic counterpart. That mentality, coupled with your loyalty and strong sense of justice was the perfect storm for leading you into scenarios much like this one. 

Sure, you had scared off bullies for Tendou before, and every time he would hug you tight and tell you to “be more careful next time”, and just like clockwork you’d be on your best behavior for all of a week or so before inevitably relapsing back to instinctive rage. The cycle would continue, and for a while spats like these became less frequent, much to Tendou’s joy.

This was not “just another spat”.

Instead of relieved affection and that familiar grin you knew and loved, the back of the ambulance was deadly quiet, save for the EMTs bustling around outside.

His name still hung in the air, and before you could say anything else you felt warm droplets rolling onto your newly wrapped hands. One by one teardrops soaked through the fabric in the form of little dots, and your heart dropped as the harsh reality set in. 

Tendou Satori was crying. Your lovably goofy, sweet boyfriend, who you swore to protect from all the vile comments. From all the evil in the world. From any and all things that would make him cry.

But this time, it was because of you.

In your crusade of being his metaphorical umbrella in the harshest storms raining from above, you had neglected to notice the muddy puddles below, leading him right into them while he faithfully believed in you. 

Those kids might have been calling Tendou a monster, but now? The title seemed to be more fitting for you. You had to fix this. You had to bring that smile back. You were the only one who could bring back the sun from the dreary raincloud that hung over the both of you.

“Tori, baby... look at me.”

After what seemed like eons, teary brown eyes met (e/c) ones. You wondered how it was possible for them to look so shiny, and yet so subdued at the same time. There were originally so many apologies and words running through your head that you had planned, each one thought out carefully enough to make Tendou proud. You wanted to tell him all of it, while putting some sense of comfort in knowing that you were trying to express your feelings with words (and not impulsive actions) that you pondered. That you came up with. That you considered before speaking, for once in your life.

But as soon as you made eye contact, they disappeared into thin air. Every mentally rehearsed statement, gone. So  you rested your forehead against his in a silent apology. Words would fail you, and as much as you wanted to be just as eloquent as Tendou, the small gesture seemed to do more than a million I’m sorry’s ever could.

So the pair of you sat on the stretcher in a silence that seemed much less suffocating now, forehead to forehead, and kissing away tears.

After several minutes had passed, Tendou leaned into your hand some more, and turned to lay a kiss into your palm. 

Now it was your turn to tear up a little. After seeing firsthand the kind of harassment your boyfriend went through on a daily basis, you knew you had to be strong for his sake. The reasonable part of you told you to not pick a fight with certain people, no matter what. That there was no shame in taking the high road. But then you’d remember all the times he’d come home dejected and hurt, and the indignation that came with people so casually dragging his name through the mud, having no idea just how much words hurt. 

Being “his protector” was taxing, and you realized that, while you’d do everything in your power to keep that smile on his face, sometimes you needed to let him be there for you too. As equals.

The tears were now dried up, no words needed as the walls of the tiny ambulance began to feel less restricting. Much like a sun shower, it wasn’t completely better yet, but it was obvious things were on the mend, at the very least. There was always a short window of time during a rainstorm where the sun would peek out, despite the last few drops of rain not disappearing completely. Moments like these- where the sadness was still lingering, but took a backseat to make room for relief, bittersweetness, and love- were where a rainbow would shine through. This purgatory was beautiful, yet ephemeral, and if you didn’t embrace it quickly enough it would fade away.

And with that, Tendou took a page out of your book and kissed you sweetly. It took you by surprise at first, but before too long you were melting into it. Vulnerable, but filled with a new kind of strength.

Pulling away as you remembered the ambulance doors were still half open, you attempted to reach to pull them shut. Alas, Tendou was a master at reading people, but most especially you, and you two were closed off from the rest of the world with a satisfying click.

Using this window of opportunity where his guard was down, you pulled him back down to your level for a longer, steamier kiss as you card your hand through his hair. You could almost feel him smirking against you, and in that moment you knew your sunshine was here to stay. After a few moments of shared breaths, mingling tongues and wandering hands, you finally separated and took in his dishelved appearance. Although, you were certain you didn’t look much better.

“I know I’m not as good with words as you are, but I’d love to apologize properly...maybe with actions?” 

His eyes softened, lifting both of your bandaged hands in his to his lips as he tenderly kissed your bruised knuckles.

“I’d like that.”

.

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