#Ahh well like I said under the cut it was a learning experience! And I really wanted a physical copy of Out haha ♪ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dourpeep · 3 years

Note

i have even more ideas now...

what about like the moment you open up about your relationship with kazuxiao the fans who were already seeing that happen were celebrating and on both of y'alls insta or something is where you announce and it's like a picture of all 3 of you chilling together or something

and then when they finally appear on a variety show they're just questioned throughly and they talk about how you guys meet and what they like about you

ok but the moments where you just feel sort of insecure since being an idol is hard and you're technically dating your seniors and you're just hit by the antis who are against yourself relationship so you lock yourself in your room in your dorm by yourself to cope. your roommate (can be whoever) contacts them both and they immediately come over and come in and offer soft kisses and soft murmurs of reassurance that they'll never leave you and that everything's gonna be ok.

side note i can see xiao just being a whole meme without realizing?? for like variety shows he's just known for his dead pan expression and then i can see him being so competitive on shows like running man..mans ripping tags left and right, while kazuhas just hiding in a weird spot or something

kazuha on the other hand i can see him being a troll, he likes to mess around with the hosts of the show and manages to mess up some of their plans, he also likes messing with his group members, where xiao likes to say that kazuha looks innocent but is a part of the devil line with venti

onto albedo i can see him like answering questions in his vlive and fans realize that a lot of his songs are more romantic and sort of pining?? and they're asking where the motivation is from. he answers that it's just something that he saw recently so he felt motivated (it wasn't the fact that he had realized that he was 100% in love with you)

but like all of this mans inspiration comes from you, he's had multiple songs dedicated to you before your relationship was even open to the public, and when your relationship finally does, it just clicks for fans and it suddenly makes sense, your ship name trends worldwide for the day

but how you and albedo met, i can see both of you guys being in the industry already and you guys are sort of know each other but it was for a one time off collab with other artists involved so you didn't really talk with each other. like i said before albedos a solo artist while i can see you being a part of a popular group already. but then both of your companies decided to do another collab and especially picked you two since you guys already worked on a collab before.

at first it was like awkward since albedos really socially awkward but then things click when you guys start writing the song together. everything just matches so well?? and you guys just compliment each other?? and that's when you learn of albedo just staying at the studio so late so you often bring food. this leads to you guys getting closer and albedo even stops his work just to talk to you more. when your song comes out and everyone is waiting for the stage, there's just so much tension?? but the good kinda and everyone is awed by the song and the vocals coming from you and albedo.

i can also see the both of you guys appearing on variety shows together too, like appearing on a show where you two travel to another place and experience the culture there, with albedo being your tour guide and showing you all the famous places (one of the many times where fans were awed by his research and knowledge) and then if you guys were to appear together again after you guys reveal your relationship, a lot of the times they show idols as they wake up, they'll see you and albedo being clingy af to each other.

on another side note, albedos totally a troll on variety shows, he likes messing around with the hosts and other contestants since a lot of the time he's not really interested in the show itself, it's more for publicity. however, when he first appeared on a show with you fans noticed that he actually seemed interested for once and that's where your ship name started.

albedos totally a golden child tho, he's like basically perfect in everything so a lot of the times variety shows don't catch him slipping, however the one time that he did was when you were mentioned, the clip of with his ears bright red was trending for a couple of days :)

GIVING ME SO MUCH GOOD FOOD THANK YOU ANON

I think that this covers everything hehehe so I won't add to-

wait wait I put it all under the cut b/c it's a lot again-

Okay okay but like for the 'announcement' picture, what if it's like those photo booth pics (but like each picture you need to scroll through like on Insta) where it's cute and wholesome! The three of you are having fun wearing some silly glasses or hats, doing peace signs or finger hearts....and the very last photo is the three of you sharing a kiss- or, at least trying to.

It's sweet, a little silly, and most of your fans take it really well! After all, they can see the chemistry that you share and can't deny that the three of you would have a good relationship.

As for the insecurities of dating your seniors, Kazuha and Xiao are quick to knock back any of those worries. They love you so, so much and hate the fact that something like that makes you doubt for a single second. If anyone ever tries to bring it up, you know that they're going to immediately quip back.

Naturally, you're roomed with Venven :D He's technically an up-and-coming after he stopped doing idol stuff for a few years, so not only does he know the ropes, but he's also one of your biggest fans and biggest supports (outside of Kazuha and Xiao).

Though he's silly and light-hearted, he's quick to recognize when things are serious and need handling.

So as soon as he sees that you're not doing so great or if he notices the comments on your posts are going in a bad direction, he speed dials Xiao and the two of your boyfriends are right at the door in under 15.

Not only are they fast about it, but they have all your favorite snacks, a movie or two, some popcorn, and a ton of love and affection because they'll be damned if their love is going to be affected by some asshole's comments about their love life! What do they know anyway??

Actually this all could work too if Kazuha and Xiao are part of 4NEMO-

Hmmm

That'd cause so much more ruckus- not only is half of one of the most popular idol groups are taken, but by the same person??? And each other??? Man, that's wack.

BUT THE GAMESHOWS

Xiao would most certainly be super intense with those. He just can't help it--competition drives his blood and makes something snap in him. He's dead serious about doing well, regardless of the game. I actually have never watched said game shows, but--

Like...he's out for blood. No one is safe. Not even you or Kazuha if you're on opposing teams, though he'll be a bit more gentle. Maybe even with the hint of a smile while you have an expression of utter shock at the fact that he's just so fast-

Or if it's not a game show and instead you're doing some sort of idol group activity with a few others to get to know each other?

Someone suggests ping pong and, knowing how competitive Xiao gets, he's pitted up against Tartaglia and man. That's scary. There's no doubt that someone would clip the video and make it into an overly-dramatic retelling complete with music.

Hilarious.

As for Kazuha! He'd be a bit of a mish mosh! He enjoys poking fun at others, and he's so sly! Those poor hosts don't realize that he's goading them on, but sure enough--he is. Who knew that his charming smile and mild-mannered attitude could be so devastating?

But even then, he's mostly wholesome! There's a lot of little clips, mostly of your doing, of him in a 'kiss the chef' apron getting caught off guard while cooking something up. The videos aren't great because you're giggling while recording and he ends up placing the ladle down calmly before wrapping you up in his arms. Half the video ends up being the two of you laughing and joking while it's pointed at a weird angle towards the counter.

Sometimes it'll point just right and you'll get a half-blurred view of Xiao sitting at the kitchen island with his reading glasses perched on his nose and book forgotten. He tends to get up and join in for a few smooches before reminding Kazuha of the food that's still cooking.

Albedo!! He absolutely is the golden child. He's fantastic handling things under pressure in a cool, calm manner. Handsome, charismatic, incredibly smart--man's hit all the stops and just keeps going.

It's not until it comes out that the two of you are together that his cool façade (hardly one, though) falters and at the mere mention of you, he'll go soft. There's a tenderness in his eyes, a small smile on his lips, and his blush? Absolutely adorable. How can anyone object when he's obviously so in love with you?

And the idea you mentioned with the two of you traveling and experiencing stuff together sounds so cute (':

He particularly enjoys exploring new cuisine, so expect him to feed you some food from his plate-

There's also a few times where you two have gotten lost in the new places, more because you're both so busy taking in the sights to realize you've taken five wrong turns- But then you make it into a whole adventure, foregoing the map and deciding to wander around. What better way to discover and learn about somewhere than getting lost and wandering?

You find quite a few hidden gems this way since otherwise you'd be hitting more popular areas!

Wait- do they really show idols waking up???

Ahh regardless, Albedo's definitely a cuddler. He loves it, can't get enough of it. It's not often that he gets a good night's rest, but with you it seems like he's fully recharged and ready for the day! It's cute too because it doesn't matter--big spoon or little spoon, you on his chest or him resting on yours. Even a few times with you facing each other with your hands intertwined.

I also agree that Albedo would mess with the game show's hosts and contestants. Not only would he, but he'd be entirely smug about it (after all, we need to have that #smugbedo going on).

No doubt, there's been times where the cameras even focus/zoom in on him where he's sitting because he's got that smirk on his face.

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1-800-smash · 4 years

Note

can you do the alphabet with kirishima please 🥺👉👈

「 now i know my abc’s. 」

feat. kirishima.

summary: learn the alphabet with everyone’s favorite daddy shark ;)

warnings: nsfw content.

[all characters are aged up appropriately.]

word count: 2k

request: @im-alyssa-btw — ❝can you do the alphabet with kirishima please 🥺👉👈❞

a/n: ahh my first request, thank you so much! i hope you like it as much as i liked writing it. please enjoy ♡ — shelbs.

submitted — [09.16.20]

nsfw under the cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

⚘ the most attentive and caring to his partner after sex, you need something? name it.

⚘ water, your favorite snack, an extra pillow...

⚘ doesn’t matter what it is, he’ll always get it for you. all you have to do is ask.

⚘ it’s the least he can do after all you do for him alone, he’s so appreciative of all you do.

⚘ 100% down for cuddles after, he loves the feeling of your body on his.

⚘ and who could forget about the soft kisses he peppers your face with afterwards? not kirishima, that’s for sure!

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

⚘ kirishima is an absolute ass man.

⚘ there i said it.

⚘ he loves grabbing your ass when you ride him or even just staring at it from across the room, he fucking loves it.

⚘ and as for his favorite body part? his hands.

⚘ how else is he supposed to grab or smack your ass?

⚘ but also because he just loves holding your hand...

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

⚘ his loads are thick and when he cums, he comes a lot.

⚘ has a nice milk white color to it but still clear and very messy.

⚘ the taste isn’t that bad either, not that salty and you can swallow it like a champ.

⚘ fuck, if he doesn’t love it when you swallow...

⚘ and when he cums inside you, the feeling of it pooling out of you is enough to make you run straight to the bathroom.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

⚘ this may sound a little boring, but i don’t think he’d have one?

⚘ he’s not that experienced with sex and while he is open to experimentation i don’t think he would do anything on his own.

⚘ if you introduced him to things like toys, i think he would be really into building a collection with you.

⚘ he wants to try it ALL.

⚘ maybe even try them on himself when you’re not around to use them with?

⚘ but as for by himself, probably not.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

⚘ he doesn’t have much experience when it comes to sex.

⚘ our baby shark doesn’t mess around when it comes to matters of the heart, it takes a lot of trust for him to be able to have a physical relationship with another person.

⚘ but what he lacks in experience he makes up for with an eagerness to learn, he wants to make you feel good!

⚘ with some careful guidance and mutual trust, he’ll map out every inch of your body with careful precision.

⚘ which areas draw out those cute, soft moans of yours and which ones leave you crying out his name is desperation.

⚘ it won’t take long for him to leave you a shivering, cum-filled mess by the end of the night.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

⚘ he likes to see his partner’s face during sex, he loves looking at all the expressions you make.

⚘ from the adorable moans you let out to the sinful look on your face as he makes you cum for the 3rd time.

⚘ he also likes to make sure he’s doing a good job and making you feel as great as he does.

⚘ missionary would be the most common in your relationship.

⚘ but he’s always down to try new positions with you, he wants nothing more than to make you happy.

⚘ he’s also a big fan of cowgirl, he’ll be rendered absolutely helpless under your control when your fucking his brains out.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

⚘ he takes having sex pretty serious, so he won’t be joking around too much.

⚘ that isn’t to say he won’t try to lighten the mood, especially if his partner is self-conscious.

⚘ he wants you to feel absolutely comfortable, and if that requires him to be a little less serious then so be it.

⚘ anything to make you feel safe when you’re with him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

⚘ he tries his best to groom it but he mostly just leaves it the way it is.

⚘ the carpet DOES NOT match the drapes.

⚘ them pubes are as black as his hair was on the day he was born.

⚘ probably wouldn’t dye his pubes, he already puts too much time into his hair alone, why would he add his pubic hair into that mess?

⚘ his pubes are not as spiky as his hair but still have that pointed look and feel to them.

⚘ but don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt! in fact, it feels even better when they rub up against your clit as he fucks you into the mattress.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

⚘ oh, this boy is SUCH a romantic.

⚘ can be cliche at times but honestly it’s so endearing that you could care less.

⚘ he wants you to know just how much you mean to him, and if that turns him into an absolute SIMP for you than so be it.

⚘ he’s always whispering how beautiful you look when you’re in the moment, caressing your face, kissing you everywhere.

⚘ when he’s done there will be no doubt in your mind that this boy loves you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

⚘ he masturbates at least 2-3 times a week or well at least he used to until he met you.

⚘ why would he need to masturbate when you’re sitting there and so ready to please him?

⚘ he doesn’t like to make sex just about pleasing him though, but he has to admit you do a good enough job doing that on your own.

⚘ the only time he really masturbates now is when you’re not in the mood (which is rare) or not home.

⚘ and even then it still doesn’t do much for him the way it used to, not when you can make him cum so much harder just by moving your hips that certain way...

⚘ you’ve got him seeing stars.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

⚘ let me tell you, this man has a PRAISE kink.

⚘ nothing will get him off faster than knowing how good he’s making you feel.

⚘ kirisima’s always struggled with his self-confidence and self-worth.

⚘ that’s why he’s so much better at making other people feel good rather than himself.

⚘ so for him to hear just how good he’s making his partner feel makes him really happy.

⚘ please, please, PLEASE tell this boy what a good job he’s doing!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

⚘ he prefers a more romantic setting when it comes to sex.

⚘ *cough* your bedroom.

⚘ he’s definitely down to fuck you wherever though if he’s needy enough.

⚘ on the couch? why not. in the shower? hell yeah. on the kitchen counter? oh absolutely.

⚘ isn’t a big fan of public sex, he’d be way to worried of getting caught by someone.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

⚘ he adores you to the moon and back, but what he admires about you the most is your strength.

⚘ show off how strong you are with him around and he’s going to be swooning over you.

⚘ he also loves being surprised with you by being the one to initiate.

⚘ it makes him feel loved and wanted!

⚘ and there’s nothing that makes him feel better than knowing that you want him to fuck your brains out.

⚘ figuratively speaking, of course.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

⚘ nothing that involves hurting you in any shape or form, he loves you!

⚘ why on earth would he want to hurt you?

⚘ he’s the type of guy who would stop sex just to ask if you’re okay from even just a HINT of discomfort.

⚘ there is no way you could convince him otherwise, there just isn’t.

⚘ hurting your partner isn’t MANLY.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

⚘ absolute BEAST when it comes to giving oral.

⚘ he will leave you trembling under his touch as he draws out another orgasm out of you.

⚘ you’re not even going to remember your own name when he’s done.

⚘ sorry, but kirishima just takes the cake with this one!

⚘ no one will ever be able to eat pussy like this man does.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

⚘ his pace starts off slow and sensual, but he tends to pick it up once you get closer to your release.

⚘ he doesn’t like being too rough with you but with enough coercion he might be persuaded to be a little rougher than usual.

⚘ obviously, he doesn’t want to hurt you, so communication is key with him!

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

⚘ when the two of you have sex he really wants to take his time and leave you feeling absolutely satisfied.

⚘ he doesn’t mind quickies, he just wants more time to be intimate with you.

⚘ if the two of you only had time for a quickie then he wouldn’t mind, but he would think about how much he was going to make it up to you the next time you two are alone together.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

⚘ hell yeah, this man is game to experiment!

⚘ as long as you’re comfortable with what you’re doing than he’s good to go.

⚘ if at any point you want to stop then he’s there in a heartbeat, whatever you need it’s yours.

⚘ don’t even worry about it, he just wants you to feel safe and secure.

⚘ as for risks, it depends on what the risk is...

⚘ nothing that will hurt you or have anyone walk in on you both.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

⚘ he can go for at least 3 rounds, maybe 4 if you’re really into it.

⚘ baby boy has lots of stamina and all the more desire to please you all night long.

⚘ he wastes no time in fucking you absolutely silly.

⚘ sex with him can usually last an hour, but if you go for more rounds after they’ll not be as long.

⚘ what can he say? it takes a lot of energy in pleasing the one you love.

⚘ and god, does he love you a lot.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

⚘ he has a pretty open mind when it comes to these things.

⚘ now, while kirishima wouldn’t own any on his own volition, i think if his partner recommended it he would definitely want to try it for himself.

⚘ it doesn’t take much to convince him!

⚘ and if he really enjoys it he may even look for toys on his own to surprise you with or ones he thinks you might like.

⚘ i could definitely see him being into it once he gets nudged in the right direction.

⚘ *wink wink* ;)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

⚘ he doesn’t like to tease that much.

⚘ now whether his partner likes to is a different story all together.

⚘ but mostly, he loves to fulfill his partners needs and he just doesn’t think teasing will get him there any better.

⚘ what can i say, this man lives to please.

⚘ would be open to tease you if you suggested it to him and assured him you will like it,

⚘ he’s very big into over-stimulation though, he will leave you an incoherent mess that’s unable to walk when you’re done trust me on this.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

⚘ he can be very noisy and it doesn’t take much to break him.

⚘ the closer he gets to cumming the louder he’ll be, broken whines escaping from him as he tried to hold just a bit longer.

⚘ but with you, it’s impossible.

⚘ you know exactly how to make him cum until he’s whimpering from over-stimulation.

⚘ needless to say, the noises this boy makes is heaven to your ears.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

⚘ he has some pretty sharp teeth, so i wouldn’t be surprised if he might have a slight biting kink.

⚘ while he absolutely hates the thought of hurting you i think he’d be ok with soft nibbles here and there.

⚘ as long a you’re ok with it, of course!

⚘ i mean... they don’t call him daddy shark for nothing ;)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

⚘ he’s about 5.6 inches, uncircumcised.

⚘ it’s pretty thick and has a nice girth to it, makes you feel small whenever you hold it in your hand.

⚘ but god, if it doesn’t make you feel fucking amazing.

⚘ he can make you cum 3 times just from his cock alone, and fuck if he doesn’t make sure you do every damn time.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

⚘ he has an average sex drive.

⚘ he’s enjoys having sex like any other guy does but by no means is he going to be humping your leg every 10 minutes.

⚘ he respects what you want and if you don’t feel like it that’s all you have to say and he’ll go back to whatever you two were doing before.

⚘ he drinks respect women juice daily.

⚘ on average you both have sex with each other at least 5-6 times a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

⚘ he will not fall asleep before you do, he always makes sure you cared for before he even thinks of dozing off.

⚘ once he’s sure you have everything you need and your fast asleep in his arms, only then will he be satisfied enough to fall asleep himself.

⚘ it won’t take him too long to fall asleep after you, holding you tight in his embrace while he tries to think just how on earth he deserves you.

⚘ and honestly? he doesn’t know but he’s sure glad he does.

#kirshima eijirou #kirishima x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha x reader #BNHA Headcanons #my hero academia #mha #mha x reader #mha headcanons

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jaminjims · 4 years

Text

found family {imagine}

@catsandstrawberries requests: Hi I have a request. Can you do an ot7 x youngest female 8th member reader maybe late teens (like 17 18ish) maybe fathers day is coming up and reader never had a good relationship with her father or any male in her life (abuse, abondment, trauma, etc) and maybe just a bunch of fluffy and angsty scenarios of her relationship with the boys when they become more like older brothers/father figures to her. Maybe one where she choreographs a dance and shows Hobi and he openly stares how proud Cont. 🐣

He is of her and maybe it just really touches her. Or maybe one where she falls asleep on the couch and one of the boys brings her to her room. And maybe a final angsty one where she tells them how much she loves them and how hard it is to know her own family didnt care about her but the b o us are like, you're wrong, your family does care about you, were your family. Something like that. I really love your writing and hopefully you can write this, if not dont worry, much love! 🐣

a/n: ahh this was the fic i wrote 4.3k words for but then decided i didn’t like it so i started over lmao. i don’t really know why this fic was kinda difficult for me to write but it was still something i enjoyed writing a lot and i’m proud of myself for finishing it! and this is probably one of my favorites that i’ve written if i’m being completely honest. the found family troupe is what i LIVE for and this one literally melts my heart. and of course thank you so so much to the lovely catsandstrawberries for the request! i really enjoyed writing it so i hope you enjoy reading it!

pairing: platonic ot7 x f!reader (reader will refer to the older members as hyung though!)

genre: angsty in the beginning but it turns really fluffy so just hang in there!

warnings: brief mention of child abandonment, child neglect, bad father daughter relationship, loneliness, insomnia, forgetting to eat

words: 6k

[disclaimer: when writing idol aus, i will only be focusing on the struggles of the reader, not of the idols themselves because i don’t personally know what struggles they go through and how they handle them.]

{song(s) i recommend while reading: someone’s someone - monsta x}

~**~

here’s the thing about family: it’s sometimes fickle and sometimes strong

you came from a prestigious family of bankers, except you wouldn’t really call it a family

it was more like relatives tolerating each other more than anything

your mom had left when you were young so you only had faint silhouettes and hollow laughter to remember her by. but that just left the two of you

you and your father

instead the memories you grew up with were of a dad who was cold and controlling and never really around long enough for you to truly feel like he loved you

it was always “y/n you have to look good for the family” “y/n you have to do this for the families reputation” “y/n you have to smile for the media so they think we are a happy family”

the word family was thrown around so much you didn’t think you really knew what it meant anymore

because it was always “y/n you need to do better” “y/n why are you so flawed?” y/n you’re more of a disappointment that a daughter”

never “y/n, i’m proud of you”

it was always what he wanted and never had he asked what you wanted

he never once helped you with your homework, never once had a family meal together

never once said he loved you

you had to instead learn to cook yourself, learn to swim, learn to ride your bike, all by yourself

all things a father should have done, he never did

instead it was all fake laughter and smiles in front of the media and cold stares and loneliness behind closed doors

you used to cry yourself to sleep because of how lonely and lost you felt but now you just opted to barely sleeping at all

and you often forgot to eat because it would just remind you what you could’ve had but didn’t

you also tended to be alone at school because everyone knew of you but no one really knew you

the only thing that really saved you was dancing

it was the only way you could really express yourself without needing words and you found that comforting

it was intimate and deep and it was your raw soul being transmitted through movements

and it was your only reprieve from the fake media, the fake smiles, the fake laughter

and the fake family

so most of your days were spent in a dance studio, choreographing your own pieces and dancing your heart out and it was really the only way you knew how to express yourself

it was when you were fifteen when you had discovered that music companies were hosting auditions and you wanted more than anything to be up on a stage and preform

you had never longed for something more than you did now

but you knew your father would never allow it and maybe that was the thought that pushed you to make the decision of joining

because you knew if you continued to live the way you did now, you would never be enough for him and you were sad and lonely and just tired of faking everything

so if you were always going to be a failure to him then at least you could have fun along the way, right?

so you auditioned to every single company you could and in the end it was only one who had accepted you and for the first time you were really happy

so, so happy that you danced all the way home and cried and for once didn’t pay mind to the eyes looking in

your dad was of course furious when he found out and it hurt that he was so against your dream

but the elation you felt at finally doing something for yourself, with no other reason but because you wanted too, it was something thrilling and if you had known that freedom would feel like this then you would’ve done it a long time ago

but it still stung when he cut you out of his life completely, like you weren’t even there in the first place. like you never existed

cut off all means of financial support. insurance, healthcare, even schooling

all because you didn’t want to be what he wanted you to be

and you cried for the first few nights because this was your conformation. conformation that he really didn’t love you and only saw you as a means to continue his legacy

but you continued on. confidently packing your bags and leaving that place that was never really a home to you

and when you moved into the dorms bighit had for trainee’s, you felt like this, this was your chance. and if you failed, then you would go crawling back to your father and beg for forgiveness like you knew he wanted

you only had one opportunity, and you used it for everything it was worth

you had gotten a part time job, something you wanted to experience because for every other kid it was normal. got to stay out late and dance and sing and just experience things that you had never gotten to do in the confines of your old home

in the confines of your father

and even if you didn’t get to continue your education (which you were greatly distressed about) you were happy because you were doing stuff you wanted

it was when you were eighteen, when you spent two years as a trainee before you got the news that...

you made it

you had made it! you were going to be put in a group! and even if they had already long ago debuted, you were going to show them that you were worth it

you were worth more than what you father had said about you, than what he had planned for you

but with that elation came hesitance

because you were joining a group that was composed of all males, seven of them, and you didn’t have a good experience with any males (well, male) in your life and you would be lying if you said you weren’t even a little bit scared

because you were never good enough for your father, what made them any different? what if you weren’t ever going to be good enough for anyone?

but they were different. they showed you that not every male was going to be like your father, that you were enough and more

when you had first met them, you were a timid little thing because you had previously been sheltered and didn’t really have any friends

you didn’t really know how to open up to anyone because no one ever cared to really try to connect

they were all smiles and politeness and you blushed under their attention because no one really showed an interest in learning about you, not like they had

but you didn’t tell them everything. actually, you didn’t really tell them anything because you were scared that if the found out the truth, they would think you were useless just like your father

so you told them your name, age (which they were surprised about because you were young compared to them), and half truths

about how you were not really close with your family, about how you weren’t really close with any friends

and you expected them to look down on you for your answers but instead they welcomed you with open arms and treated you like they would treat anyone else

and you loved it. loved that they saw you for you instead of just a rich mans daughter

so slowly, you started opening up to them

they treated you like a normal person (a thing which you craved because it was something you never experienced) and they never only pointed out the things you were doing wrong, like your father had

instead they pointed out your flaws and also pointed out what you had excelled at

“y/n, you should turn your body and bend a bit more for that move, but your energy was really good!” “maybe reach a little bit higher for that note? it went a little flat for a second, but your part in the bridge was perfect.”

and it was those comments that you held close and cherished because they pushed you to do better but it was different than than the way your father pushed you

because you refined the things that you could actually fix instead of just thinking everything about yourself was horrible

and maybe it was weird, but you really started to look up to them and that only caused you to work harder so that you would make them proud

but it wasn’t until a late night in the dance studio with jimin that really shifted your relationship with all of them

you couldn’t sleep again (like most nights) and you were dancing to a song that you had choreographed yourself

you slightly overstepped and pushed your body forward by accident and had ended up twisting your ankle

you almost started crying because what if the boys thought you were going to be a hindrance? what if they thought you were a failure for holding them back?

but then the the dance studio door opened and in came walking jimin and you felt yourself shrink in, trying to make your body as small as possible because you were so scared

and it was weird because you never felt this scared when you thought your dad would look down on you and you had only been in the group for two months and you shouldn’t be feeling this attached

and everything was overwhelming and jimin gasped when he spotted you on the floor crying with a bruised ankle

his heart hurt to see you this upset so he quickly walked over and tried to get you to slow your breathing and when his calm and soothing voice reached your ears, you couldn’t help but relax slightly because he didn’t seem to be angry, only worried

and then what he said next had you crying for a whole different reason

“is it ok with you if i look at your ankle?”

he had asked. he had asked if it was something you wanted and that surprisingly meant more to you then it probably should

and once again they proved that they were different than your father because your dad would just do, without any concern to what it might do to you. but they thought about you, about your well being

you found yourself nodding and once he saw you were crying still he creased his eyebrows with worry, “does it hurt that bad?”

you shook your head again and managed to get out, “you aren't mad at me?”

and the world seemed to stop for a second and you held your breathe as you waited for his answer, and when he opened his mouth you got scared that he was actually angry

“you thought i would be mad? of course i’m not, it wasn’t your fault. it’s ok, you’re ok.” and even with your hurt ankle you leaned forward and hugged him because you were so relieved that he didn’t think you were a failure, glad that he still thought you were worth it

and even though he was confused at your reaction, he hugged you back anyway because he wanted to be there for you in any way he could

and your adoration for them only increase since then. you were really starting to feel closer to them and really starting to rely on them

the week your ankle was healing, they made sure to check in every hour to see if everything was ok and it was a little overwhelming at times because you had never been this looked after before and it was new to you

and at least one of them would arrive home from practice early and give you everything you needed

one time when yoongi came back early, he had come into your room and asked if you needed anything and you said no because you didn’t wanna hinder him but then your stomach growled in betrayal and you blushed

he frowned and sat beside you on you’re bed, rubbing the back of his neck, “now, i know that i don’t look like the comforting type, but i’ll still help if you ask.”

and your eyes widened and you shook your head, shooting up in bed because it really wasn’t that you thought he was bad at comforting but it was because you really just forgot to eat again

and that’s what you told him and he frowned for a different reason, “you forget to eat?” and then you would look down in shame because you thought he was disappointed in you

he looked at your lowered head and sighed, lightly bumping shoulders with you, “hey, it’s ok. i’m not mad or anything. just worried.”

and you tentatively looked up at him, hiding behind your hair, “i... just don’t eat that much. reminds me of the things i can’t have.” and then you looked back down

and yoongi thought that his heart broke a little bit because you sounded so small and sad and he was confused as to why but what he did know is that it hurt him to hear and see you like that

he then bumped his shoulder with yours again so you would look up and then he flicked your forehead when you did

and you looked at him with a slightly offended expression while bringing your hand up to touch the spot he flicked and once he saw the look on your face, he smirked a little, “what are you thinking about now?” and you would get this confused look on your face, because why was he asking? “why you flicked me.”

and then he would smile triumphantly, “then it worked.”

and it wouldn’t be till later that you realized that he had gotten you too think about something else so you wouldn’t dwell on the bad memories you had, and you smiled brightly trying to fall asleep that night

but you noticed that they all would start to bring more snacks in their bags whenever they went anywhere and offer them to you and it was hard to say no because you were kinda hungry when you thought about it

and food started to taste a little better when you were around them

and as time passed, they only surprised you more and more with their personalities and you started to really like just being around them, you felt like a better person

and over time you had all grown closer too, up to the point where you would get into petty fights like real siblings (at least you liked to think of it that way, you never had any siblings)

for example, one time you were sitting on the couch scrolling through a phone the company recently got you and here comes jungkook running down the hallway

he then jumps and lands right on top of your sitting figure on the couch and you yell because it scared you and why was he sweaty?

“yah! get off me!” you then would push him on the face but it would get you nowhere because he was quite literally almost twice your size

“no, i don’t wanna.” then he would shrug and pull out his phone while he was crushing you with his body weight and then you would scream out “hyung!” in hopes anyone would hear you and all of them would come running into the room because you never yelled and they thought it was an emergency

but then it would sink in that, that was the first time you had called them hyung and they would get these goofy smiles on their faces (even jungkook, from where he was sitting on top of you) and you would look at them and then realize what you did

you gasped and started apologizing because what if they didn’t want you to call them that? (obliviously not getting the message that they did from their faces alone)

but they would just shoot down your apologies because they would be happy that you finally felt close and comfortable enough to call them that

and jin would walk up and ruffle your hair - well as best he could while jungkook was still sitting on you - and “come help your hyung in the kitchen.” and your smile would be worth more than anything to them and you would push jungkook off of you easily this time while yelling yes

you then stuck your tongue out at him and he made a funny face back that had you giggling

but something was always weighing on your mind, and it was the lack of your education. since your father had cut you off, you had no means on furthering your learning and it was something that really upset you because who couldn’t even complete highschool education? and you were afraid that the other members would be disappointed in you

so you asked manager sejin (which he had grown pretty fond of you over the months) for a computer because you wanted to complete your education online if anything and he was completely behind the idea and backed you up 100 percent

so you started your online learning but you had to admit, it was hard when you didn’t have a teacher to consult things with

and you would get so frustrated because why couldn’t you just get this right? it was simple math! and you were disappointed in yourself because this was a big blow to your ego

you were afraid that the others would would laugh at you but then you thought about how they proved time and time again that they were different than your father and so with that thought in mind you summoned your courage and went to knock on namjoon’s door

he was surprised to see you but smiled anyway and you sat down on his bed with your hair covering your face because you were still embarrassed and they didn’t know that you hadn’t finished highschool

and he saw that you were struggling with what to say so he waited patiently because the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off

and you were grateful for that, so after a few minutes you gathered your thoughts and decided to just plunge right into the conversation, “hyung,” and they still smiled when you called them that, “i’m doing online school and um, was wondering if you could help me? i mean you don’t have to or anything but i just-” and he put a hand over your head to stop your rambling and smiled that dimple smile of his, “of course i’ll help. what do you need me for?”

and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little surprised because it was highschool sophomore math because he thought that you had already graduated highschool but he still was glad to help you anyway

and you could tell he wanted to ask but was hesitant, so you made it easier for him, “i wasn’t able to finish highschool.” and he looked perplexed for a moment but when he took in your sad expression he didn’t say anything more so you quietly added on “i don’t have a relationship with my father so..” and you trailed off and he sighed silently because it was hard for him to wrap his head around why someone would make you so sad, especially if that someone was your father so instead he opted to take your mind off the issue

so he spoke up, “yah, the pythagorean theorem isn’t gonna learn itself.” and so the two of your stayed up and you understood the subject more when he explained it than in any real class you ever had

so, these teaching sessions are almost a daily routine and sometimes it would be the others helping and it became something that you really enjoyed

because no one was ever willing to help you like this

after months of living and knowing them, it was finally the crunch time to get ready for your first comeback with them and you were so nervous

you would stay up later than usual to practice and they would be lying if they said they weren’t a little worried about your lack of sleep but they used to do the same thing before comebacks so they let it slide somewhat

but what they didn’t know was that you were also going to be doing a solo dance performance and you were so scared that no one would like it so you finally crumbled and asked for hobi because you wanted his opinion on your routine

but his reaction to your dance sequence was one you didn’t expect

as you flipped and glided through your choreo, hoseok stared wide eyed at you in wonder because he knew you were an amazing dancer but when it was just you and him in the dance studio, the emotion that you portrayed... it was just an astounding site to see

and when you finished you saw his expression and blushed, hiding your face in your hair because no one had looked at you like that before

“what? was it bad?” and it was a couple more moments before hoseok really gathered his thoughts to put them into words and he just walked over to you and put his hands on your shoulders so you would look at him

“y/n-ah, that was amazing. just everything about it... aish you have me speechless.” and he gave you that hobi heart smile and you couldn’t keep your eyes from tearing up but what he said next really got the waterworks going

“i am so, so proud of you, y/n”

and you openly cried and hearing that sentence from someone you really looked up to was something you never knew you needed and you hugged him so tight and said ‘thank you’ over and over again because you really were

you were so, so thankful

and he carded his hands through your hair because namjoon had told him about you not having a good relationship with your dad and knew this was probably something that meant a lot to you. but he really was so, so proud of you because you had grown so much since being that little timid girl he had met months ago

so you went home and played videogames with everyone and just had a good time so you wouldn’t get to stressed and later when you had finally managed to fall asleep, hobi would gush about your dance to the other members (without knowing you were going to be preforming it soon) and everyone was excited and wanted to see it too

but with hobi’s encouragement came more determination for you to work harder because you were going to amaze everyone if you had anything to say about it

so you started to stay out late to the point where you would come back to the house when everyone else was sleeping and just be so tired that you would fall asleep on the couch, not even making it back to your room

and they would wake up and see you and look at you so fondly because they could see that you were working so hard and could see how badly you wanted everyone to succeed

and it would usually be jungkook who would pick you up and bring you back to your room so you could sleep just a little bit longer

they really were so proud of you

and then it came to your comeback date and you were still so nervous but they’re presences made it better

it was taehyung who came up to you then right before they were supposed to go onto the comeback stage and what he said would always stick with you, “no matter what happens out there, i, we, will always be there for you, no matter what. we will always be proud of you.” and you would tear up and the makeup unnie’s would get angry and push you back down in the makeup chair but they would have this gooey smile on their faces anyway

and your performance went perfectly

it seemed like the audience was just as memorized as hoseok had been when you preformed your solo and army, thrown off by your presence, still accepted you because they could see the bond you had with the boys and how pure it was

and even though some didn’t agree, it was ok because seven other people where proud of you and that’s all you really needed

and then because of the amazing performance the eight of you go out to eat and you all joke and laugh and the food tastes amazing

and you think, this is what a family dinner must feel like

and you almost cry again because this is all you really ever wanted, to be accepted, to be seen for your achievements instead of your flaws

and you've only spent five months together but in those five months, you had grown so close to these people that showed you that you were more than what your father had told you, that you were amazing and perfect in your own way and they would never look down on you for your flaws

you could definitely get used to this

so the next day taehyung took you out on a shopping spree because he wanted to spend time with you and you both basically wrecked havoc in a gucci store trying on everything you could

and he wold tease you when you came out of the dressing room with a size that was way to big for you and you would taunt him back and bicker back and forth

then you both went to the store and got ice cream for everyone and you all set up a fort in the living room and it was easily one of the best days of your life

and after that the eight of you experienced things and created memories together and they showed you what real friends were, what real companionship and love felt like

and before you knew it, fathers day was in two days and you didn’t know what you were going to do, but you still felt like you should do something because father’s day is a day to celebrate the important males in your life

you had never felt like doing something like this when you lived with your actual father, and that spoke volumes to how close you had come to these boys

so on the saturday before the actual day, you tried to wake up as early as you could and get all the ingredients you needed

when you saw that you were missing eggs for the cake that you wanted to make for them, you tried to be as quick as possible so your hyungs wouldn’t be wondering where you went if they woke up

it was the probably the fastest trip you had ever taken but it was all for naught when you walked back through the door

you almost dropped your newly bought eggs when you heard a scream come from the living room and suddenly there were arms wrapping around you in a tight hug

“j-jimin?” was all you could squeak out before a barrage of voices tumbled over each other in efforts to scold you for leaving and not telling at least one of them, if not all of them

“what were you thinking!? you scared me! you scared us!” jin said in your direction, where jimin was still wrapped around you

“yah! we thought you left! or-or got kidnapped!” hoseok’s raised voice was one you decide you didn’t like

once jimin let go, yoongi was quick to envelope you in a hug, “aish. i never wanna wake up to that kind of scare ever again.”

once he pulled away you spotted taehyung and jungkook pouting with their arms crossed sitting on the couch, namjoon fixing you with a serious stare. “promise me you won’t do that again.”

“promise us!” taehyung quickly added in and all you could do was nod because your head was still trying to process what just happened over the span of the last ten seconds

it wasn’t until your pinky was wrapped around jungkook’s in a pinky promise that the situation really set into your head and you lowered your head in shame and embarrassment, “i’m sorry.”

jin sighed and ruffled his hair, “we were just worried. sorry for yelling y/n-ah,” and it warmed you with how protective they were over you and you looked up at him teasingly, “sorry eomma” and jin frowned while you and the maknae line snickered

it was when you got up to finally put the eggs away that jimin pulled you back down to sit beside him, hugging you again, “we worry about you because you’re our yodongseng, y/n-ah” and it was that one sentence that had you all smiley and giggly because that was the first time any of them had called you that, the first time anyone called you that and you were so happy

because they saw you as their little sister and a bond like that was something you hadn’t felt before, and one you would never want to break

“thank you” you whispered as you got up and went to put the eggs away, the boys following after you

“so why did you go to the store?” taehyung said as he looked at all the ingredients littered around the kitchen counters

you gasped and remembered what you were doing and quickly turned around, “all of you, out! go away!” you yelled while physically pushing hoseok and yoongi out the kitchen door

“wha- why?” namjoon got out before almost being pushed over and into a table by jungkook

“surprise!” was all you yelled as you got all of them out of the kitchen but seokjin waited by the door. “hyung, what are you doing?” hoseok questioned. “just wait for it.” was all he said as he started counting down from five. and as he was just about to say one, you popped your head back through the door and shyly asked, “hey jin-hyung, can you help me with something?” and then he looked toward the others and smirked at their bewildered expressions. “i told you. she always asks for me when she needs help in the kitchen, and she always needs help.” you then hit him on the arm, “yah. i’m not that bad.”

then the both of you would enter the kitchen and you would try to explain that you needed to make a cake without really telling him you needed to bake one and it just led to a lot of confusion

in the end you gave up and told him you needed to make one but you didn’t tell him what for, still trying to preserve a least a little bit of surprise

the both of you joked and laughed about useless things while mixing the eggs and milk and flour, making a cake from scratch and the others listened to your banter and smiled among themselves

when the both of you settled down and put the cake in the oven, seokjin called your name, “y/n-ah,” and as soon as you turned around a wad of flour hit you in the face and jin’s windshield wiper laugh echoed out

but that was only the begging

“this is war!” and then all of them came running into the kitchen and the flour that was supposed to hit jin, hit yoongi instead and you could’ve sworn you heard namjoon face plant at one point and then fifteen minutes later everyone was covered in flower and the kitchen was a mess

and you all found yourself sitting on the floor, waiting for when you had to take out the cake. and just being surrounded by all their presences, suddenly got you emotional

“thank you” you said again, for the umpteenth time since you’ve known them. you took a deep breath, “i never got along with my father and-,” you sniffed and they waited for you to finish, jungkook nudging you with his shoulder and taehyung gently holding your hand, “and, all of this, the comfort and compassion you’ve shown me,” tears started to fall from your eyes and hoseok who was sitting across from you leaned over and wiped them off your face, “and i’m really grateful.”

but before they could say anything to that, the oven went off and you took another deep breath and gathered your emotions, once again pushing them out of the kitchen so you could decorate the cake you would show them tomorrow

and while they were sitting in the living room together, waiting for you to finish, they all looked at each other and they could easily say that they would do anything for you because you really were their little sister and they cared about you so much

and while you decorated your cake for them, you thought that a giving them their surprise a day early couldn’t hurt (and you knew one of the maknae line would definitely come and sneak a bite of the treat in the middle of the night)

so you walked out, flour caking your hair and clothes, holding the vanilla frosted cake that said ‘happy father’s day ‘ in purple, messy icing

and oh my god they were so touched they could have cried (and some of them did)

and you stood in front of them, gathering your thoughts and as soon as you saw that jimin was about to say something, you started talking. “so, uh, originally i was going to give you all this tomorrow but i figured that it wouldn’t hurt to give it today. and father’s day is not only to celebrate fathers but to celebrate the important males in your life.” and there you go tearing up again, “and when i was younger, my mom left before i could really remember her, and my dad, he-” tears fell and you wiped them, “aish, i’m crying.” then you giggled and their hearts were simultaneously breaking and filling up at the same time. “he was never a father to me, so i never knew what it felt like to have one, to have a family. and it hurt everyday to think that no one in my family wanted me.” god you were a wreck and your words were coming out blurred now. “but then i came here-”

and before you could get out anymore there were seven pairs of arms wrapping themselves around you and your burrowed your head into the chest of nearest person (which happened to be yoongi)

“that’s not true y/n” namjoon murmured and for a second you were confused because why would he say that about your situation? but then he continued, “we will always, always, want you in our lives. we are your family. and always will be.” and you were full on sobbing and so were they

and all you could get out was a sloppy, sobbed filled: “i love you” but they understood perfectly

“we love you too, y/n” and that was the single best moment in your life.

and then perhaps the next day you did anything they asked of you which led to the younger ones being scolded about how you weren’t their maid but then you would get up and get what they asked for anyway because this was their day

and the bickering, the love, and even the fights you would have sometimes, it would all be worth it in the end if it led you back to them

[end]

end note: oh. my. god. i’m not crying, you are. the ending? when i was writing the flour scene? PLEASE I WAS SOBBING. this is one of the fics that i am most proud of and i really didn’t mean to make it this long, but here i am. i hope everyone has an amazing father’s day, and you get to celebrate it the way you want to! everyone reading this (and those who aren’t) deserve happiness, no matter who you are. and you are more then what people say about you. i love you guys to the moon and back, make sure you stay safe! (and as always, sorry for any spelling errors!)

~**~

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tamakeey · 4 years

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there are children present (pt. 1)

doctor! ushijima wakatoshi x doctor! reader

ushijima is was your typical pediatrician at the miyagi health clinic

the only difference is he’s 6′2 and very beefy which is pretty funny when he’s surrounded by kid-size furniture everyday

his rough exterior scares his patients at times but everyone in the pediatrics department knows he’s a real softie on the inside

everyone until y/n joins the pediatrics team at the miyagi health clinic

on her first day of work, y/n lost her way around the big building

she looked in all directions hoping someone would see her confused stares and help a poor girl out

luckily ushijima spotted the girl while she was looking down at her phone, seeing the message her supervisor had sent her yesterday about the wing she would be working in

however, in y/n’s eyes, seeing a giant walking towards her with an intimidating aura made the girl shiver in her hospital clogs

as ushijima grew closer to her, she flinched in fear, and began chanting words along the lines of “pls spare me”

when ushijima saw her visibly shaking in his presence, his face morphed into one of confusion

in his mind he was questioning do I really scare people that much

he took a deep breath and mustered up the most gentle, nurturing voice he could to speak to the woman

“I apologize if I startled you, it was never my intention. you just looked lost and I thought you would need some of my assistance” ushijima said shyly

y/n feels terrible having misjudged his intentions and forms a look of guilt on her face after hearing him speak to her, having a minor yachi panicking moment

“I’m so sorry, I’m just nervous around new people. I would greatly appreciate some help finding my way to the pediatrics department please. I would hate to be late on my first day” y/n responds while craning her neck upwards to look at the tower man

ushijima nods, letting out a quiet “follow me” as he led her to the department he works in everyday

as they arrive to the pediatrics department, y/n is in awe at the miniature chairs and table fit for toddlers, chalkboard cluttered with doodles, and small toys in the waiting area

suddenly she hears the receptionist greet ushijima from the counter

“ahh hello yamagata, I see you came into the office earlier than usual today” ushijima replies stoically, proceeding to scan his card into the door, allowing him access to the department

y/n begins to question how he has access to the pediatrics department, believing he worked in a different department and only helped to guide her to where she needed to go

as she goes in, she is greeted by her supervisor

however, she did not expect for her supervisor to be a grumpy old man with the bushiest eyebrows she has ever seen

“hello, you must be y/n. I am your supervisor tanji washijou. I see you have met our top pediatrician, Dr. Ushijima Wakatoshi” the elder greeted the poor girl whose soul has suddenly left her body

not only did she misjudge ushijima when he was trying to help her, he’s also her coworker

“you will be assigned a nurse who will be your partner working here. your patients are now their patients, so it’s best to get to know your nurse as you will have to work together to help the patients that come in” washijou continues

the girl nods as she follows washijou down a long hall to an office area where she sees the room section off into cubicles that are labeled with a name plate for each pediatrician

y/n spots the cubicle that has her name plastered on one of its walls and walks towards it

“I see you have found your cubicle, this is where you will work when you have no appointments, whether it’s looking at documents and analyzing test results, all that will happen in here” washijou explains

y/n nods signifying that she understood the elder’s words and began looking around her cubicle, imagining the personal items she may store here to make it feel cozier

washijou brings her out of her thoughts as he walks out the door, informing the young woman that he will be bringing her assigned nurse to her cubicle so they could get to know one another.

as y/n is unpacking her work bag, she hears the door open which causes her to see who is entering office area

she sees two men walking towards her, one immensely tall and the other shorter in comparison to the giant he stands next to

the shorter male has noticeable ash blonde hair with darker tips, although he looks tough, she notices a comforting aura surrounding him which makes her less frightened than her previous encounters

the taller male, for sure intimidated the poor new girl he’s 6′2 with dark ginger hair and although he is on the lankier side, his resting face is what causes the girl to avoid his piercing stare

as they stop in front of the girl, she realizes these are the nurses that have been assigned to her

“hello, my name is semi eita. I am a registered nurse who has been here for a few years. I look forward to getting to know you and working along side you” the shorter male introduces himself

y/n notices his gentle, deep voice that has put her in a calmer state as she replies “good morning, I am y/n y/l/n, I am excited to work with you as well and hope we can build a closer bond as we work alongside one another”

noticing the poor girl fiddling with her fingers as she glances at his taller counterpart, semi begins once again, “this is kawanishi taichi, he is currently fulfilling his residency requirements under my supervision, so he will also be working fairly close beside you”

“I look forward to working with you” kawanishi speaks for the first time in his lazy tone while bowing to the girl

“thank you, I hope to provide a good learning experience for you” y/n responds, bowing back to the tall boy

soon, the door is being opened again, and y/n sees ushijima walking in with a tall red head wearing blue scrubs

“I’m just saying wakatoshi-kun, the content within the jump magazines are more amusing than the ads” the tall red head asserts

ushijima nods and then approaches the trio standing at y/n’s cubicle

“hello Dr. y/l/n, this is my nurse tendou satori. I apologize, he’s a little bit on the loud side” ushijima says quite bluntly

“wakatoshi-kun, that’s very harsh to say. I’m hurt” tendou replies

y/n giggles before responding back, “pleasure to meet you tendou, I hope to be able to get to know you better while working in the same department with you”

the rest of the day was spent with the five getting to know each other due to the slow day in the office and none of them having any appointments for the day

during the next few months, y/n is forming close bonds with those she met on her first day (minus washijou) and adjusting to her job phenomenally

getting to know her patients, noting all their symptoms, and diagnosing them in a fairly quick manner

leading her to be fairly popular in the office as many parents are bringing their children to her office

ushijima, although very efficient in analyzing his patients’ records and diagnosing his patients very quickly, struggles with communicating to them in a manner that would not scare them off

especially today, when one toddler in particular was not fond of his scary appearance

the little boy had walked into the checkup room, holding his mother’s hand

his bangs cut in a slant direction (they’re basically uneven and looks like the hypotenuse of a triangle, I suck with descriptions so I’m hoping you all know I'm talking about shirabu LOL)

when tendou walked in to take the child’s temperature and blood pressure, the child was struggling to remain calm as a towering red headed male with crazy eyes kept looking at him dead on

after taking the necessary data on the child, tendou says quite animatedly “alright shirabu, Dr. Ushijima will be with you shortly, make yourself comfortable and help yourself to some books in the bucket”

shirabu’s mother hands him a little book which leads him to flipping through the pages and pointing at the cute animals within it

once an a while having to blow his uneven bangs out his eyes

all of a sudden the door opens and when shirabu looks up, his whole face pales and tears begin gathering in his eyes

to shirabu, a giant, mean looking man stands in front of him, ready to yell at him, kill him, or anything horrible in-between

before ushijima could let a word out, shirabu begins to sob loudly on the examination table

ushijima stops walking towards shirabu, as his mom reaches out to console him

as shirabu’s mother is trying to comfort him and tell him how ushijima is here to make sure he's healthy, shirabu continues to sob louder and repeatedly scream “but he’s so scary”

ushijima freezes on the spot

usually when children are frightened of him their parents are able to calm them down

but shirabu is relentless and stubbornly continues to cry to his little toddler bum’s desire

ushijima excuses himself from the room, stating that he will be back shortly, shutting the door behind him

outside the examination room, ushijima was silently panicking

why was I cursed with such a big body

why do people always think my facial expression is scary, it’s just my resting face

I’m not mad at least 98% of the time

I just want the kids to feel safe and comfortable to tell me their problems so I can fix them as fast as possible :(

as he was having an internal conversation with himself, y/n walks by and notices the distress on his face

she begins to grow concern for the man, she’s grown to know as a giant teddy bear

yes she caught feels for him within the past few months

semi and kawanishi never let her live it down, making it their mission to fluster her on the subject at least once a day

she walks over to the conflicted giant, but not before noticing the three nurses around the corner staring at her with a smirk on each of their faces

ofc tendou is in that upside down position (y'all know which one I’m talking about)

rolling her eyes at her three spectators, she turned back to ushijima to deal with his internal crisis

“Ushijima, did you need help with something?” y/n asked as she approached him

“no, I do not understand why my latest patient is so afraid of me. I did not even get to speak a word before he started screaming. usually I at least get one word in” ushijima replies as the cries of shirabu could still be heard through the door

y/n winces at the boy’s shrill cries but is also impressed that it is able to resonate past the wooden door

“did you want me to try to talk to the patient first? hopefully, get him to ease into you” y/n offered

ushijima nodded curtly, handing y/n the patient’s information which she glances over fairly quick

y/n takes a deep breath and opens the door, which causes the cries to come at a higher volume

shirabu opens his eyes after hearing the door open, thinking the scary tall man came back to kill him only to be greeted by a smaller woman with gentle eyes

the child halts his cries, but the tears keep falling silently

y/n grabs some tissues from the counter and wipes the poor boy’s face which is red from all his sobs

she crouches down to the boy’s height and smiles gently at him

“hey little guy, I’m Dr. y/l/n. I heard you’re being a brave little boy visiting the doctor today” y/n speaks in a nurturing voice

shirabu nods shyly, still tucked away in his mother’s arms

“I promise you Dr. Ushijima is nothing you should be scared of, he’s the best doctor in the building who will help you feel better” y/n explains gently to the boy who shakes his head in his mother’s shoulder

“he’s giant and scary” shirabu speaks for the first time while fiddling with his smol bby fingers

“I'll let you in on a secret little guy” y/n whispers towards shirabu

being the curious child he is, shirabu lets go of his mother and scoots his little bum towards the edge of the examination table to listen in on the secret

“Dr. Ushijima looks scary, but he’s really gentle and soft. just think of him as a soft teddy bear because really that's all he is” y/n whispers making the little boy giggle thinking of the tall mean doctor dressed as a soft bear

“with that said, will you be okay to see Dr. Ushijima now?” y/n asks

shirabu nods with the picture of his doctor dressed as a bear freshly engraved into his mind

y/n nods and bows to shirabu’s mother before stepping out of the examination room to fetch the giant pediatrician

“he’s ready to see you now, he might actually be very excited” y/n informs ushijima

ushijima nods, takes a deep breath, and walks into the room shirabu is in

shirabu look up to the tall doctor, eyes still slightly glassy from his previous crying session

although he is still shaking in his child boots (shoes? sneakers? whatever shoes your heart desires)

he refrains from screaming out, imagining the big man as a teddy bear like he has been for the past couple minutes

“hello, I am Dr. Ushijima and I am here to help you fix your problems” the giant doctor voices out, still nervous on the inside

after half and hour of speaking to shirabu, ushijima concludes that the poor boy just jammed his fingers and just needs to tape them

“may I ask what you were doing that caused you to jam your fingers?” ushijima asks gently

the boy shakily replies “I was setting the volleyball to my friend but my timing was off”

ushijima eyes light up at the mention of volleyball as he ask incredulously, “you play volleyball?”

the child nods timidly as ushijima gets a glint in his eyes that is unfamiliar to the poor boy

“I played in high school, I was a wing spiker” ushijima replies causing the child’s eyes to also light up

“really, that’s so cool. I’ve been watching old clips from high school nationals and the wing spiker on shiratorizawa is amazing. he has so much power, I wish to set for him someday” shirabu rambles before he looks at ushijima and recognizes him from the videos he’s been watching

“WOAH YOU WERE THE ACE OF SHIRATORIZAWA FROM THE VIDEOS I WATCHED?!?” shirabu exclaims with stars shining in his eyes

ushijima chuckles and hums a positive answer causing the little boy to spitfire questions to the man such as:

how many points did you score each game?

did you ever break the floor with your serve?

has anyone ever broken a bone from your deadly spike?

shirabu’s mom began to scold shirabu for bombarding ushijima with too many questions making the poor toddler bow his head in shame and slap his chubby cheeks with his own hands as a self-punishment

ushijima seeing the poor inflict pain on himself began to panic and continuously ask the boy to stop hurting himself

“I would love to answer your questions sometime but I have a patient coming in 20 minutes but feel free to contact me through my email or phone number on the clinic website if you want to continue talking about volleyball. I see you have a great interest for it” ushijima says making shirabu look up adorned with red cheeks and starry eyes

shirabu nods eagerly asking his mom to help him use the computer when he gets home so he can talk to ushijima

“I also wouldn't mind coaching you on my off days. I haven’t played volleyball in a long time so please toss for me sometime” ushijima says crouching down to the shirabu’s height and giving him a small smile

said boy squeals in excitement and claps his little hands together

“THANK YOU SO MUCH DR. USHIJIMA” shirabu exclaims, going in and giving ushijima a hug

shirabu’s mom could definitely be heard in the background lecturing shirabu on his manners and personal space

but ushijima doesn’t mind

in fact, he is touched that a patient feels so comfortable with him and enjoys his presence

releasing himself from shirabu’s hug he then speaks, “well then I’ll be off, I hope to hear from you soon”

shirabu hops off the examination table and bows to the tall man and exclaims, “yes, thank you for everything, doctor”

shirabu grabs his mother’s hand and leaves the room as ushijima holds the door open for them

as ushijima walks into the office room, he sees y/n typing reports on the computer

he approaches her and taps her shoulder causing the poor girl to jump in her seat

“I apologize for startling you, I just wanted to thank you for helping me calm down shirabu earlier” ushijima shows his gratitude

“it’s no big deal, I'm glad to be of use to the best pediatrician in the whole unit” y/n replies with a smile on her face

ushijima then notices his heart beat quickening and thumping louder than normal

he believes that anyone could hear its rapid beat without requiring a stethoscope

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq scenarios

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requiem626k · 3 years

Note

IT IS I! 🎹 anon! I have returned from the land of paper writing for the end of the semester and I live (sort of) HAHA

I just realized I aaid PRELUDES and not ETUDES. But I love both of the either way.

I think Scriabin's etudes are more popular, like Op 8 No 12 and Op 42 No 5. I really enjoy them and the former is really intense, but I think it's easy to get tired of them eventually.

For his Preludes Op 11, my personal favorites are No 1, 15, and 19. I actually don't really understand that much about music theory (though I do plan on learning when I have free time... maybe you could recommend where to start? :D HAHA no pressure of course) so I can only recommend them based on what my ears think sound nice.

Anyway hope you have a good day! May all that you eat be tasty :3

AHH! LOVELY 🎹 ANON HELLO! <3 I was wondering where you were haha! I mean, of course you’re not obligated to write me but ah I think you get the point- I’m just happy to see you again😖❤️

I hope all went well for you with those papers!! I’m sure you did good💕 And thank you so much for the recs ahh, I can’t wait to discover them!!

And thank you for the lovely wishes about my day, I wish the same for you too <3

My commentary for the pieces + recs for learning music theory are under the cut🤭

Etude Op 8 No 12

Oh my God, I loved this. It’s the first time I listen to it, and I chose to listen to it from Horowitz and the chills it sent down my spine are still there. It’s so intense as you said, the build-up is wonderfully written and the passionate emotions just put you in a vortex and whirl you around, I love it. And the bass notes- oh the bass notes, every beginning of a new measure struck my heart.

On the second listen, I can say that I especially adored the heartwarming modulations in the beginning and the use of dominant 7ths during the buildups, omg the amount of chills this piece is giving me- 🤤

Etude Op 42 No 5

My fingers started hurting just by listening to it-😶 Oh my. This one was much more chaotic than the other etude, in the middle part I almost lost my sense of rhythm, it’s just… insane.

I adore the soft melody that chimes in in the middle section🥺 (starting from 01.58 in this recording, it just has my heart ahh I could hum it all day… I never wanted to hug a melody before- ;^;)

Prelude Op 11 No 1

Listening to this right after those passionate etudes was a really interesting and comforting experience. not going to lie. 🤭 Ahh, this one was extremely comforting and soft, it felt like walking on the water and letting myself go with the flow~

Prelude Op 11 No 15

I… I’m mesmerized by this one. How can one create such a beautiful thing with such simplicity? I adore the ambience that the left hand creates, and the pearl-like (as we call it in my native language, which means it’s just so well articulated) melody is the cherry on top- I can easily weep to this, especially to the last two soft chords…🥺

Prelude Op 11 No 19

I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH😭 How does he do that? How does he make the listener feel passionate, bittersweet and emotional at the same time? I also love how he hides such precious melodies inside an orderly chaos, they just shine.

In conclusion: Russians surely know how to make music & Scriabin is so damn underrated. Thank you so so much for these recs, I loved every single one of them ❤️

Now onto the music theory talk! Parting from your words, I’ll assume that you have no experience/knowledge about it.

My first advice: be patient. Think of it as learning a new language, and this is a language that’s using a completely different alphabet too, called “notes”. Would you expect to be able to talk in a totally new language fluently after a few weeks? A few months? One year? I don’t think so. Treat music theory as such too. It will take time, practice and effort. But don’t let this demotivate you, because once you get the hang of it, it becomes so enjoyable and if you’re really interested in going on (which I see that you pretty much are, given your passion about music <3) you find yourself totally lost in it😌

As a starting point, (again, I don’t know how much you know so I’ll just assume you don’t know anything) obviously, you must learn the alphabet: You should know how to read notes as well as you know your name.

After the notes, there comes the rhythms, modes (Ionian, Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Aeolian, Locrian) scales & key signatures, interval types (major, minor, perfect, augmented, diminished etc.) and chord types (triad chords, major chords, minor chords, diminished chords, augmented chords, seventh chords etc.) I’m aware that these are all tedious stuff that you need to memorise quite a bit but please, please lay these foundations very strongly and well. Keep in mind that you’ll be constructing every layer on these knowledges, may it be harmony, counterpoint or piece analysis.

After you’ve learned them individually, you’ll learn the relationships between them. Just as an example: what chord is called how in what scale? Or the chord progressions, which is essential if you want to analyse a piece in terms of theory. And I think this pretty much covers the basics! I definitely recommend learning with a teacher, if you can. But if you can’t, there are lots of stuff on the Internet that would help you learn it yourself, I suppose! It’s been a really long time since I first learned it, for me it’s like my native language so I fear I couldn’t give a detailed and educational advice, but I hope it’s helpful somehow😖

#anon.[🎹]#anon interactions👤#scriabin talks #req’s classical music brainrot

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oneyeartoparty · 3 years

Text

Meeting At Long Last - Chapter 4: The First Few Days

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753607/chapters/66923116

The kitchen was quiet as Lily entered. Gone was the scent of cooking food, the shouting chefs, the boiling water and sizzling oil. It was replaced with the smell of soap and sloshing water as mops were pulled and pushed across the floor. The breakfast rush had just ended, and so only a few of the stations were still in use, with the rest closed for cleaning or left unused.

She made her way to a small, unoccupied section of the kitchen; one meant more for the preparation of smaller meals than the grand feast that was regularly made elsewhere in the room. Stopping in front of a well-worn wooden cutting board, she placed down what she had been holding.

Lily inspected the ingredients before her with a careful eye. Since Thatch had kindly offered her access to the ship’s food stores, she was able to take her pick of the available food. The more significant issue she faced was finding what she needed. The food storage area was necessarily large and filled with an abundance of ingredients, from the mundane to the more exotic and strange. It has taken her almost half an hour to locate everything she needed, and she made to sure mentally note where she pulled everything from, for future reference.

Despite the abundance of ingredients, she was held back by her lack of adequate cooking skills. Her childhood cooking experience consisted of sticking some meat over a fire and making rice, so she had been woefully under prepared for surviving long term while sailing the sea. Luckily, she had encountered a few well-meaning sailing merchants who taught her the basics of cooking and food preservation before giving her some small rations and sending her on her way.

While it was only a few days into her stay on the Moby Dick, she thought it best to get started practicing her cooking while food was plentiful, and she had some spare time. While she doubted anything would happen during her stay, she didn’t want to be caught out if it did, especially if she ended up stranded one of the more mysterious islands in the New World.

It didn’t take long for her mind to stray once she got started cooking. She had practiced many times during quieter periods in her journey, and so muscle memory took hold, allowing her to reflect on the last few days of her stay.

Things had been calmer than she had expected. Ships sailing these waters expected to be harassed by Marines, pirates or a combination of the two, but the Moby Dick faced no resistance as it cut through the ocean. Lily had sighted a few ships as they traveled, though they were too distant for her to see any identifying features. All of them were sailing away from them like they had hit an invisible barrier and were bounced back.

Then there was the crew. Many had approached her to introduce themselves and see how she was doing. None asked about the mask, and Lily attributed this to Thatch keeping his promise to ensure no one would ask, though, no guarantee could stop the staring. There were fewer stares than she expected. No doubt many of the crew had seen stranger sights and saw her as ordinary in comparison. Of those who did stare, some were more subtle, only choosing to take glances when they thought she wasn’t looking or paying attention. Others openly gawked, or reacted in obvious shock, like one cabin boy who stared at her wide-mouthed when she was walking back to her room one afternoon. The boy’s reaction didn’t surprise her; she had seen many children react the same when they saw her.

What had been surprising was the attempts of some of the crew to flirt with her. It was odd for someone like Lily, who was so often considered a freak, to be flirted with. The first time it has happened, it was shortly after she had sat with Marco and Ace on the ship’s railing. A woman approached her; she had a slender form with wavy but thin brown hair that traveled down to meet her elbow and eyes that matched the brown of her hair. Despite her slender form, she had apparent muscle, visible through the bulky red reefer coat and blue jean she wore. She made her intention known quickly, but didn’t get very far, nor would any of the others, as Ace would appear to glare at anyone who tried as if a mere attempt at flirting with her caused him to appear to put a stop to it instantly.

After the fifth flirting attempt, Ace started to spend more time with her, and while he wouldn’t admit it, it was a clear sign the flirting was bringing out his overprotective brother side. Lily didn’t mind; she enjoyed her brother's company, especially after so much time apart. If he had other duties, he would often leave Lily with Thatch. While he had initially been wary of his fellow Commander due to his reputation, he quickly came to trust Thatch with Lily when he saw that he wouldn’t follow in some of his crewmate’s footsteps.

Overall, the crew of the Moby Dick had been kind to her, and while Lily appreciated their kindness, each new person she met caused her anxiety to spike. She wasn’t used to being approached so freely, and so often by strangers, and while she tried her best to speak with everyone, she would sometimes lockup and find it difficult to respond.

Thankfully, most of them would notice and take their leave, or Ace, Thatch or Marco would appear and whisk her away to an empty part of the ship and sit with her for a while until she felt better. It was something she deeply appreciated, and she made a note to try to find gifts for them all before she departed the ship.

Today had been a rare day where the three were elsewhere, leaving her to her own devices. She had spent her time sorting her bags, taking stock of what she had saved from her destroyed ship. Sorting through everything, she noticed a cookbook she had salvaged. Flicking through the water-damaged pages, she saw some recipes that caused her empty stomach to rumble. And so, she made her way to the kitchen to prepare them.

“Interesting dishes you’re making Lily, though they’re a bit basic,” Thatch said from beside her, pulling Lily from her reminiscing.

“Basic?” she asked, secretly not shocked by his words.

“Yeah, it’ll do for keeping you alive, but that’s it. If your living and fighting in the New World you need more than that. You need to be re-energized and revitalized. Anyone with basic cooking skills can put something together, but only the best chefs can make something that both keeps and makes you feel alive.”

There was truth in his words that Lily couldn't deny. After all, she had experienced the effects of his cooking since she had come aboard. Every meal gave her more energy than anything else she had tried before, and it made getting through the day much more comfortable.

“I can teach you a few different things if you’d like,” he offered.

“Thank you, Thatch, that would be wonderful,” she happily replied.

Getting a lesson from an expert chef and spending some time with a friend. I think today is shaping into a good day.

Cooking with Thatch was a learning experience. His love of cooking came through with every action he made, and it was apparent he took joy in sharing his craft with others. He took the time to explain every step and went over things she had trouble mastering. Despite her occasional slip-up, it wasn’t long before they finished, successfully making two dishes she had seen in the recipe book.

The food now sat on a divided plate, a serving of spicy beef rice occupying the red side and a summer salad on the white. They both looked scrumptious, better than anything Lily could prepare by herself. Still, while she had help, there was an undeniable touch of her in both dishes, and she felt proud she had a hand in creating them.

“Both look great! Thank you for your assistance in making them, Thatch,” Lily said, delight ringing in her voice.

“It was my pleasure, now which should we tr-“.

“Ahh crap!” a male voice shouted from the other end of the kitchen, interrupting Thatch.

“Is someone in trouble?” Lily asked, tensing up slightly.

“No need to worry. That sadly familiar yell was the new cook screwing up the soup again. I’ll be back in a minute.” He said in a huff, walking toward the direction of the shout.

And so, Lily began to wait. It took mere minutes after Thatch’s departure for an odd impatience to take over her. She wanted to wait as he had asked, but after all the work they had put into making this food, she couldn’t let it go cold before someone could taste test it for her.

“I’ll go and find Ace and see what he thinks,” she said to herself as she grasped the plate and turned toward the exit.

Exiting the kitchen, she began to make her way towards Ace’s cabin, a skip in her step as she looked forward to seeing her brother’s reaction to her new creations.

She didn’t encounter anyone on the walk to the cabin, and soon she found herself standing in front of the door to her brother’s quarters. Not wanting to risk dropping the plate, she used her foot to tap the door lightly.

“Ace? Are you in there?” she half-shouted through the door.

There was no response. Not that she was surprised. Ace could easily be somewhere else on the ship or napping, becoming almost dead to the world as he dreamt what she hoped were pleasant dreams.

Undeterred, she decided to knock one final time before searching elsewhere.

Again, nothing.

Could he be training, maybe? He did say he was meeting with members of his division today, is he doing that now?

Hearing footsteps, she turned to see Marco walking toward her. He wasn’t wearing his usual outfit. Instead, he wore a light grey, long-sleeved sports shirt; the first few buttons left undone to show the top of his tattoo. His pants were made of what Lily thought was cotton that had been dyed black and stopped just below his knees.

He looks like he’s trying to relax today. Maybe this is a rare day off for him?

“Hello, Lily.” Marco greeted.

“Hey, Marco,” she cheerfully replied.

“Looking for somewhere to sit and eat?” he asked, inspecting the plate.

“No, Thatch assisted me in making some food. It's my first attempt making something like this, so I was looking for Ace to taste test it for me.”

“Why didn’t Thatch taste it?”

“There was a soup emergency that he had to go handle. Since he was busy, I decided to go find Ace instead.”

“You won’t have any luck finding Ace. He went racing off on his Striker when he heard one of our ally ships needed help. I tried telling him Izu was already on the way, but he was gone before I could even start speaking.” Marco grumbled.

She sighed “That’s typical Ace. He can be a hot-head sometimes.”

“I don’t hate him for it. It's how he show’s he cares, and I will admit it’s kinda endearing.”

“So, my brother has rubbed off on you? It’s the same with Luffy. Those two always seem to make fast friends no matter where they go,” Lily chucked.

“It wasn’t that smooth a start for Ace here, but it did work out that way, and we’re all glad it did. I think the ship would be empty without him setting things on fire.”

“Changing the subject, since the fire starter isn’t here, would you try one of these for me? The red side is spicier if you’re not a fan of spice.” She asked as she lifted the plate, moving it closer to Marco.

Marco looks between them. “Which is which?”

“Sorry?”

“I can’t see colour.”

It took a moment for her to realise what he had meant. “You haven’t found your soulmate?”

He shook his head. “Not yet, though I have been looking.”

His words caused her to panic internally.

I’ve screwed up! How could I be so inconsiderate when he’s been so kind? He’s going to hate me now.

“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed as I did. It was horrible of me,” Lily muttered, her anxiety serving to dampen her voice, making it come out as a whisper.

“Please Lily, there is no need to apologies for not knowing, especially when its something like this.”

She was relieved. She would hate to have offended Marco. While they hadn’t spent much time together, she felt that had a bond already, and given how few close bonds she had, she didn’t want to lose it.

“Does it impede you at all?” she asked, allowing her curiosity to take over momentarily.

He shook his head. “Not really. Most things that would be a struggle have a colour-blind variant, and I can always ask for some help if it doesn’t. If anything, the worst part of it is knowing I still haven’t found them.”

“How long have you been looking?”

“Since I was young. It’s one of the reasons I set out to sea. I’d be an orphan my entire life, surviving with the scraps I managed to get my hands on. Looking back on it now, with everything I’ve done, it was more existing than living. There were happy moments, but it was no life for anyone, especially a child.”

His eyes shifted, turning to watch the ocean as it arched up and down in the wind. Though he only stared out for a few seconds, she saw a visible calm come over him.

“And so, when I was twelve, I decided I didn’t want to be alone, that I wanted to find that one person who might want to stay by my side and create a family. I still haven’t found my soulmate, but I did find a family. I think I was the most fortunate I’ve ever been when I boarded this ship on the day I left my home island. “

I can’t let me him be without his soulmate, not after all the kindness he’s shown me.

“I’ll help you look,” Lily exclaimed.

He looked perplexed. “Help me look?”

She nodded. “I won’t be with you for very long, but I do my best to help you find your soulmate.”

Marco beamed. He seemed ecstatic at the offer.

“I’ll gladly accept that offer, Lily.”

Lily sighed, “It might not be much of an offer unless we stop on any populated islands.”

“It’s a coincidence, but we’re stopping at one of our islands tomorrow. If I remember right, they’ll be holding a festival to celebrate the first harvest of the year. They get a lot of traffic from nearby islands too. So, want to go with me?”

FrEAK

They flashed in her mind again, their claws ripping her confidence and bravery apart and letting the anxiety and fear seep in. It made what had been so simple now impossible.

If I try to help him, I’ll be a burden. I should never have offered, knowing what I am.

“Sorry, Marco, it might not be the best idea. I apologies for the trouble,” the second she finished speaking, Lily whirled around and began walking away, nearly dropping the plate she had forgot she held.

“Wait, Lily!” Marco called from behind her, concern in his voice

She stopped the guilt from hearing his obvious concern causing her halt. She hated worrying people, and this was no exception.

Marco quickly appeared in front of her, leaning down they were face-to-face.

“What made you so upset? Do you not want to go to the festival?”

She shook her head. “I do, but, how could I? Every village or town I go to I get ostracised because of my mask. They think I’m some horrible criminal or…”

“Or?”

“A freak, a disgusting freak.”

There was silence for a moment “Lily, can I hug you?”

She weakly nodded, expecting a quick, pitiful embrace. Instead, she noticed the weight lifted from her hands as Marco gently took the plate and put it beside the door.

Then, with a speed that Lily surmised could only come from an expert hugger, he gave her a gentle smile and hugged her.

He was warm and soft. It wasn’t like Ace’s warmth, which with his new devil fruit was nearly overwhelming, nor was near smothering like Luffy’s ecstatic hugs. This was a pleasant warmth, experienced when sitting in the sun on just the right day, with grass dancing along your exposed skin. It was a feeling Lily wanted to get lost in. But soon, Marco ended the embrace, stepping back, but remaining close.

“I’m not going to ask what you went through and I’m not going to ask Ace either. I want you to tell me when you’re ready if you ever are. Until then, know that I don’t care if anyone looks down on me for choosing to spend time with you. I’m happy to do so even if it means I’m an outcast for it. Besides, I’m a pirate. I’m used to the looks and judgement, its sort of a job requirement.”

She wanted to doubt him. It wasn’t the first time someone used pretty words and promises to gain her trust. But she also knew people, it was a necessity for her, learning how to properly ready people. And that’s how Lily knew that Marco was sincere.

I think I can let myself trust him a little.

“Also, I should mention this isn’t an ordinary festival. It customary to dress up, so you won’t stand out, if you still want to go, of course.”

A smile only known to her, appeared on her face. “I’d like that a lot.”

A smile returned to his face. “Then I’ll come to get you once we dock. It should be around midday, so keep an eye out for me around then. For now, would you let me escort you back to the kitchen? I’m sure Thatch is wondering where you went.”

With a nod from Lily, the two began to walk together. It was a silent walk back, both of them far too preoccupied with thinking about tomorrow to speak. They were so distracted in fact that neither of them had remembered to pick up the plate that now sat next to Ace’s cabin door.

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spacesnail3000 · 4 years

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Brooklyn’s Sweetheart Chapter 18: I Got an Eight-Ball of Yey!

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Chapter Summary: Ahh, the typical college experience: alcohol and drug abuse, handymen turned sugar daddies, and the inescapable mounting pressure to succeed as the semester progresses.

Word Count: 4,336

Warnings: Language, drinking, drug use

A/N: Hello dear readers, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I have been having so much fun writing America Chavez, Kate Bishop, and Kamala Khan, all of whom I love dearly in the comics. I think this chapter is a lot of fun and I hope you guys do too. Btw I don't condone any of the things being done in this chapter ;)

ALSO: I’ve discovered that the formatting is so weird on mobile?? It doesn’t show any of my line breaks? I want to fix it but HOW??? Why is mobile like this????

Masterlist

There was a storm cloud above her head when she entered the apartment several days later and slammed the door. When she threw herself down on the couch next to Kamala, her roommates all exchanged a look before turning their attention to her.

“How was swim practice?” Kate asked tentatively. The other girl’s hair was still wet and she was still wearing her swimsuit, only a pair of tiny spandex athletic shorts covering her.

“Ugh.”

Wanda grimaced. “How was the interview?”

Her whine was cut off as she tossed her arm over her face dramatically. “Mmmfh—”

“That bad?”

She let out a pitiful moan before falling silent.

Kamala reached out and pet her hair gently. “There, there. It’ll be okay.”

She had already had three interviews and none of them had gone well. The last one had ended when she couldn’t give a good answer as to why she would be the best candidate for the position. Utilities were due soon and she had no food of her own in the pantry. Wanda had been taking pity on her and sharing her ramen packets. On top of that, her swim coach wanted her to focus more on her breaststroke rather than freestyle, which was her preferred technique, and she already had three readings due for her classes that she was nowhere close to completing.

“I know this isn’t really helpful,” Wanda said tentatively, “But Bucky’s in your room.”

Her back straightened immediately and she shot off the couch. “What?” she nearly shouted. “Why?”

“He’s putting up shelves.”

“He wasn’t supposed to do that until next weekend!”

Rushing down the hall, she threw open her bedroom door and of course, there was Bucky, drill in hand, multiple shelves already hung up around the room. He paused when he saw her, eyes errantly raking down her figure before snapping right back up to her face.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, face heating up with anger and embarrassment at the way he was looking at her.

“Uh,” he nodded to the half-drilled shelf above his head. “Shelves?”

How the hell could Bucky act as if nothing was amiss?

“You weren’t supposed to come until next weekend!”

“Well I had time today, and I wanted to take some measurements of the kitchen, too.”

“The kitchen?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna put up some shelves in there, too. You guys don’t even have an island—I was thinking of building one, and I needed to measure the area. This place has almost no storage space, but—”

“Shut up!” she cried. “You can’t just come over like this without telling me!”

Bucky frowned and put down the drill, approaching her with his hands raised. “Whoa, doll, calm down. I just wanted to help out.”

“We don’t need help!”

“I know, but listen.” He placed his hands gently on her shoulders, and she thought about shying away, but his palms were so warm, and he was looking right into her eyes with that earnest blue gaze, and then he started talking in that deep, husky voice, tone so soft that it melted her. “I feel real bad about everything that’s happened. And I just want to do something that’ll make your life easier. You see?”

He motioned around to the shelves he had already put up, and that’s when she got a good look at them. There were some hung up low above her bed that she could use as a bedside table. A long line of shelves and cabinets hung along the wall to the side, some with hooks, some with rods, so she could hang up her clothes. On the opposite wall there was a larger shelf down low positioned as a makeshift desk, her desk chair already tucked underneath, and above it, more cabinets and shelves.

“And I knew you were gonna need a place to study,” Bucky was saying, “So you can use this one as a desk. There should be plenty of space up here for your books,” he ran his hand along the cabinets above. “And I was considering building you something else, maybe something with drawers that you can use as a dresser, maybe something that slides under your bed—but I didn’t know how much space would be left.”

She looked around again, then walked to the little desk and ran her hand across it. The wood was smooth and glossy, a warm color that didn’t detract too much light from the room. They all matched, so she knew he really did make them all himself. She recalled that his grandfather was a carpenter. Bucky must have learned a few things before he passed away.

“I also brought you something,” he said, startling her out of her thoughts.

“What?”

“A little housewarming gift.” From out of nowhere, he pulled out a small potted plant, a succulent in a soft green color with stubby little protrusions. “They’re called Baby Toes.”

She frowned at the small plant that did indeed look like the toes of an infant. It was all too much at once—the shelves, the plant, the kindness in his eyes.

“Please say something, doll.”

Realizing that he was still holding the plant out to her with a worried expression on his face, his vulnerability hitting her straight in the heart, she looked back up at him, eyes shining a little bit. She chewed on her lip, then gave him a small smile; she was a little ashamed at her anger at him before. Her voice was soft as she took the small plant, “Thank you, Bucky.”

“You like it?” he asked hopefully. “And the shelves?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“I’m glad.”

He hid his triumphant grin from her as he finished putting up the last of the shelves, and he didn’t say anything about how she placed the plant on the shelf underneath her window and opened the blinds for the sun to reach through.

Once he was done, they went into the main room where he took measurements for shelves for the kitchen and living room. He was all business, barely speaking to any of the girls as they chattered amongst themselves.

Once he was done, he said, “I’ll be back in a few days to put them up.” Y/N walked him out and stood in the hallway to say goodbye to him.

“Thanks again, Bucky,” she said, still slightly chagrinned at her previous treatment of him. “The shelves are really nice, and helpful, and the plant is really cute.”

“Of course, doll.” The sincere smile on his face was the honest one he would always give when he felt his heart swell with love for her, the same smile he gave her on the night of her birthday when he told her she was beautiful. “I’d do anything for you.”

Her face heated up again, this time from the way her heart fluttered in her chest. Bucky pulled her in for a hug, lingering for a moment before bidding her goodbye again.

The next time she saw Bucky was a few days later, Friday afternoon.

She was back from class and she didn’t have swim practice, which was a relief because her muscles were aching terribly from the last week of training and drills meant to whip her back into shape. Her immediate plan was to take a hot bath and work on the 30-page required reading about Mesopotamia for her history course; then she would perhaps consider letting Wanda drag her to the house party that she had been talking about all week.

But then Bucky was in the kitchen, the shrill buzz of his drill working the shelves into the wall combined with the fact that he was shirtless disrupting every single rational thought she almost had.

Kamala and Wanda were perched on the couch, eyes raking over the muscles and tattoos covering his back and arms. America and Kate—who had literally not had eyes for anyone but each other since they had all moved in together—were the only ones who noticed the girl in the doorway, whose mind was also shorting out by the sight of Bucky half-naked.

“Hey,” America greeted her. “How was class?”

“Uh.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Um.”

“Good talk.”

Bucky was alerted to her presence then, and he turned around and sent that bright smile at her. “Hey, darling. How was class?”

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”

Kate made quite an unbecoming snort at this, but Bucky seemed to ignore it. “I think your AC’s broken,” he answered, his tanned wrist coming up to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Was gonna take a look at it once I finish with these shelves.”

“Oh.”

“Can’t you feel how hot it is in here?” America asked pointedly.

Well, she had chalked up the heat to the blush that was surely spread far and wide over her body at the sight of Bucky’s tattoos, ones she had once fantasized running her hands and lips over in the throes of passion—

“I have homework to do!”

With that, she hurried to her room, shutting herself away and sitting at her desk with the intent of doing her readings. However, she stared at the words in her textbook and didn’t take in a single word about the ancient language of the Sumerians or the legacy of the Akkadian Empire or the significance of the Epic of Gilgamesh for the better part of an hour.

Instead, she listened through the walls as Bucky and her roommates chatted, as he finished up putting a bunch of shelves in their apartment, and as he somehow magically got the AC unit working after fiddling with the filter or something for five minutes.

When a light knock came on her door and Bucky let himself into her room, he was thankfully wearing a shirt, and his hair was pulled into a little bun at the nape of his neck. “Hey, doll,” he greeted her. “Wanted to check in on you.”

Now that she didn’t have to see so much of his skin, she could think. “Hi.” Yet somehow that’s all she managed to say.

Bucky walked around, looking at the shirts and dresses she had hung up on the racks, the books and pictures she had placed on the shelves, and the succulent on her windowsill. Then he wandered back over to her and glanced over the desk, half of which held her beauty products, and the other half held her laptop and study materials.

“I have something for you.”

Her eyes grew wider and she frowned. “Bucky, you can’t keep bringing me stuff.” It harkened back to when her father would “apologize” for his cruelty with shiny gifts and meaningless gestures.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said honestly, “But I saw it in a shop and it reminded me of you.” Kneeling in front of her, he fished a little velvet bag out of his jeans, handing it to her and looking at her expectantly.

She sighed and pulled it open, then dumped the contents of the bag onto her open palm. It was a small bracelet made of intertwined white string, a line of tiny rose quartz beads woven in the middle.

“Bucky,” she tried to protest, pushing it towards him. “You shouldn’t have—”

“Sweetheart, just take the bracelet,” he laughed. “Barely cost me anything.”

Well, it wasn’t extravagant like her father would always go for. It was just a simple gesture… practically meaningless. Right?

“Help me put it on?”

He grinned and obliged, big fingers fumbling with tying the tiny strings around her thin wrist. “There,” he said once he finally tightened the knot. “Perfect.” He looked into her eyes as he said the word and his intense stare made her feel hot all over.

Looking back at her reading, she tapped her highlighter on the pages of her book. “So,” she said. “You fixed the AC?”

“Yep,” he answered. “And took measurements for an island in the kitchen. I’m gonna measure underneath your bed now, too. I’ll make you some little drawers you can pull out and put clothes in.”

“Oh—okay—” she said, watching as he stood and pulled a tape measure from his pocket. He was quick, writing the numbers down on a little notepad, sticking his pencil behind his ear. When he finished, he turned and saw her watching.

Holding her gaze, he stalked towards her, towering above her in her desk chair. Goosebumps raised over her arms at his predatory gaze, like he was stalking his prey—or playing with it.

“What’re you reading?” he asked, leaning down over her shoulder to get a good look at her papers. “Mesopotamia, huh?”

“Yeah,” she replied, her mouth dry. This close, she could smell him, tobacco and cologne, a little bit of sweat. It threw her back to the first night he took her, when he was so sweet, and to the night they punished her so horribly, her ass stinging as she rode his cock. He was so warm against her shoulder, and she felt like she was vibrating.

He pulled back to look at her face, still very close. “You’re so smart.”

“I—” Why did she always feel so warm inside when he complimented her?

Then he was gone, standing up and away from her. “Listen, I have to get going. I’ll be back in a few days once I’m done with the island and the drawers. Alright?”

“Okay.” She was still in a sort of daze from their proximity, from his compliments, his body heat.

“You need anything, just call me.”

“Okay.”

She walked him out and he pulled her into a big hug just outside the front door, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

“See you later.”

When she came back into the house, she collapsed on the couch.

“Why do you look like that?” Kate asked. She and America were in the kitchen filling up the shelves with everything that had been sitting on the counters for the past week while Kamala and Wanda sat at the kitchen table doing homework.

“Like what?”

“Sad,” Wanda answered. “You look sad.”

She huffed. “I’m not sad. I’m just… I don’t know. Wanda, why do I miss him so much?”

“Who, Bucky?”

“Yes, Bucky!”

Kamala answered, “Because he’s a total sweetheart. Seriously—why did you even break up?”

Y/N looked at Wanda and they shared a glance. “It’s complicated.” She hadn’t even told Wanda the entire story—just that they were somehow involved in her father’s murder and that she couldn’t live with them anymore. She had barely told Wanda the extent of her relationship with Steve and Bucky—only that she had kissed both of them, and they both seemed to like her.

“Listen, it’s totally normal to miss an ex after a breakup,” Wanda said.

America added, “But not so normal for your ex to come in and do a bunch of nice things for you afterwards.”

“Well he clearly wants back into your pants,” Kate said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be doing all this.”

It hurt to think that Bucky’s motivations were simply to get her back. “Can’t he be doing nice things just for the sake of being nice?”

“No,” the girls all said together.

“But we don’t really know the circumstances of your breakup,” Kamala pointed out. She was ever the optimist. “I believe that people can change, and I believe in second chances. Maybe this is that.”

“Ugh, don’t give her ideas,” America groaned. “Girl, you need to move on from him.”

“Hey, you agreed with me earlier when I said how swoon-worthy Bucky is.”

“Kamala, he’s a hot guy who comes over to our house and builds us shelves for our kitchen. How can I not swoon a little?”

“Ugh, guys,” Y/N groaned. “Not helping!”

Wanda stood and sat by her friend, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. “I have just the thing to cheer you up. A little rager in Greenwich Village is the perfect remedy to a broken heart!” She wiggled her fingers around in her face, as if it was a magic trick that could cure her gloom.

“I don’t know if that’s really the case, Wan,” America said, skepticism written on her face as she tutted.

“You’re right. Copious amounts of drugs and alcohol are the real cure. Time to break out the Tito’s!”

The month of September carried on in much the same fashion. Between the rigor of her classes and her grueling swim practices, she somehow managed to get a part-time job as a waitress, barely getting fifteen hours a week. Bucky would stop by every week or so to repair something or put up furniture that he built himself, and he would always bring little gifts.

An embossed leather journal for her to take notes in; a vintage art piece he hung up on her wall; a new set of nice markers to draw with.

“I hope you’re still drawing,” he said one day. “You’re a great artist.”

He’d shower her with compliments, encourage her when she struggled with her many obligations, and never stopped offering to fix up things around the house.

Between class, homework, swim, work, and Bucky, she went out with Wanda and the girls regularly. She found out that she loved vodka, hated tequila (after a particularly monstrous hangover), and was intrigued by the party drugs she seemed to see everywhere, but too nervous to take them.

It was all a good distraction from her inner turmoil, her heart aching whenever she thought of Bucky.

He had always been her friend, she had always cherished the connection they had, and it seemed like it was all thrown away in a matter of a few days. It hurt to think about and all she wanted was for things to be like they used to be.

Kamala said she was mourning the loss of a relationship and it was normal to feel this way. That didn’t make it hurt any less.

Ultimately, she missed Bucky. She missed Bucky with so much of her heart, it hurt. She got so excited whenever he stopped by, her heart beating a race in her chest, although she wouldn’t show it. Secretly, she looked forward to each visit, and had occasionally asked him over for repairs every so often.

The shower head really had needed replacing, and the lock on her window really had been jammed. If she got to see Bucky while he fixed it, then maybe it didn’t bother her so much.

Sometimes she did wonder if she was playing into his trap—and then she would look at him, joking about something, eyes lit up whenever he looked at her, and she knew he wasn’t the type to try and manipulate her like that. Truthfully, she had always felt safe around Bucky, aside from those few specific instances all those weeks ago. But he had always kept her safe, secure.

She was being paranoid. That was all.

And then there was Steve, who Bucky mentioned a few times in passing, but never brought up more than that. She thought about Steve sometimes, about the man he used to be, and the man he had turned into.

She missed him, too—only the soft parts, though. The man who held her in bed in the morning and ran his fingers across her skin. The man who bought her pretty trinkets just for her delight. But that man seemed to be lost to rage and violence.

Or maybe they were the same man the whole time and she never realized. How had she missed how dark and angry Steve had become, but more than that, how had she failed to do anything to help him, to prevent him from falling down a hole so dark and deep that he could never crawl out?

She thought of him when she sketched in her notebook, whenever she broke out her watercolor paints and used the techniques he showed her over the summer.

One day, Kate looked over her shoulder as she painted at the kitchen table and asked, “Aw, you’re painting your sugar daddy? Who’s that guy next to him?”

“Ugh, Bucky’s not my sugar daddy.”

Wanda peaked across the table at the drawing. “That’s her other boyfriend.”

“Steve is not my boyfriend!” The vehemence in her voice shocked the other girls.

“Woah, fine, okay. He’s her sugar daddy’s boyfriend.”

“Oh my God, he is not!”

Then a knock sounded on the door, startling them out of their teasing. Kamala stood from the couch to answer it, announcing, “It’s Bucky!” even though they could all see the front door from the kitchen.

Bucky entered the apartment with one of their kitchen chairs which he had taken to repair a few days ago when it broke. “I’ve got the chair,” he said, “Fixed the leg and sanded it down a little, too.”

“Oh, Bucky, our hero,” Wanda teased as he set the chair next to her at the table.

“We really should pay you for being our own personal handyman,” Kate added.

He grinned at them. “I would never charge you ladies—it’s my pleasure.” Then he turned to the third girl at the table, running his hand over her shoulder. “How’s it going, doll?”

“Fine,” she answered, a little shorter than usual on account of her friends’ insinuations just before his arrival.

“What’re you working on?” He leaned over her, pressing the weight of his hand into her shoulder, and a soft grin slowly grew over his face as the photo. “That looks real nice, sweetheart.”

“It’s nothing,” she said quickly, shoving the paper away from herself, embarrassed. “I really should be working on homework.”

He pulled away from her, a sly grin stretching his mouth. “Whatever you say. Hey, what’re you doing on Friday night?”

“Homework,” she answered automatically. “Uh—probably.”

He chuckled at her and asked, “Could you spare a couple hours away from homework and come to dinner with me?”

She was silent for a moment, then stuttered. “Uh—”

“She’d love to!” Wanda interjected. “Pick her up at 6! We’ll make sure she’s ready.” Wanda received a sharp glare from her friend, but she ignored it.

“Great, thanks, Wanda,” Bucky said, beaming at her before turning his smile back on the girl who stole his heart. “Dress nice, I’m taking you someplace fancy. Oh, before I forget—” He fished around in his pants pocket before pulling out a small rectangular box. “I want you to wear this. Okay?” She took it hesitantly and nodded. “Good, I’ll see you Friday, sweetheart.” He bent down to give her a kiss on the top of her head before heading out the door.

Once he was gone, Y/N turned to Wanda. “What the hell?” she exclaimed. “Why would you do that!”

Wanda scoffed. “Listen, you’ve been dancing around him all month.”

“For a reason!”

“Not a good one! He’s proven that he’s a nice person! He gives you gifts! He fixes our shitty apartment! He calls you sweetheart! And you’re crazy about him, we can all see it!”

“You know what he did, Wanda!”

“What did he even do?” America asked. “You never told us.”

Y/N sighed and looked pointedly at Wanda, who shrugged and answered, “You guys really don’t want to know. Anyways, you don’t have to fall in love with him! But I’ve been trying to hook you up for the last month and you refuse to go on any dates! You’ve been way too uptight, so you need to have some fun—and get laid.”

At the insinuation that she would have sex with Bucky, she choked on her own spit. “I’m not going to have sex with him!”

“But he’s your sugar daddy, he gives you gifts for sex!” Kate said.

“That’s prostitution, Kate,” America scoffed. “But what’s in the box?”

She had almost forgotten about the box laying on the table next to her paintbrush. She opened it carefully and tries to suppress a smile. It was a thin gold chain with a dainty ruby pendant at the end, simple and sweet.

“What were you saying about Bucky not being your sugar daddy?” America asked dryly.

Kate helped her clasp the necklace together. The pendant fell just below the dip of her collarbone. Wanda grinned, “You need to date this boy or I will.”

Kamala protested, “Hey, you already have a girlfriend. Leave some hotties for the rest of us!”

Y/N sighed and took the necklace off, shoving it back in the box. “Well, it’s too bad, because I’m too busy to date him anyways.”

“Speaking of which, don’t you have a shift in like, a half an hour?” Kamala asked, pointing to the clock on the stove.

“Yes, I do. Thanks for reminding me.”

America snorted. “Yeah, you need all the hours you can get. Utilities are due on the first of the month.”

“Ugh, I know, but they only scheduled me for one shift this week. I’ll figure it out.”

She went to get ready and Wanda followed her into her room. “You know, if you need more money, I can get you a shift at the Widow’s Web.”

Y/N frowned, grabbing her nametag from her desk. “I don’t know…”

“C’mon, upstairs is just waitressing, and now that Natasha’s Manhattan location is open, it’s a shorter train ride.”

“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged. “I’ll think about it. I gotta go, though. I’ll see you later.”

The rest of the week passed in a blur. A 6-page essay on the contributing factors to the Collapse of the Bronze Age; a chemistry exam that she got a C- on; an art project due for her drawing class. A visit to the athletic department’s physical therapist to look at her shoulder, which had been hurting since she started switching up her stroke style. One 4-hour shift at the diner. Not enough money in her bank account for bills, so she had to take out of her savings. Again.

“Well if you take a few shifts at the Widow’s Web, you’ll earn back that money in no time,” Wanda said with a bright smile as she shuffled through the dresses Y/N owned. It was Friday evening and Bucky would be around to pick her up in a half hour. Her hair and makeup were done, all courtesy of Wanda. The ruby necklace was already sitting in place on her neck.

“I know,” she sighed. “With the way I’m burning through my savings, I won’t have enough money to make it to senior year.”

“Ooh!” Wanda squealed, pulling a swathe of dark fabric from a hanger. “This is perfect!”

“It’s a little revealing…”

“Uh, yeah. Duh. Put it on!”

With a sigh, Y/N pulled the dress on over her undergarments. The shin-length dress was a deep navy blue with delicate white flowers spotting the fabric, thin straps and a deep V-neck revealing much of her chest. She looked in the mirror with a frown. “I don’t know… It shows my bra!”

“Take your bra off, then. C’mon, this is probably the least revealing thing you’ve worn all semester, especially considering some of the things I manage to get you in for parties!”

It was true; Wanda was partial to miniskirts and crop tops, and whenever Y/N allowed her to dress her up like a little doll, that was often the result. “Fine,” she grunted, pulling off her bra and then adjusting the straps of the dress. Her sigh of exasperation was cut short by a knock on the door.

“He’s here!” Wanda squealed, running out to get it.

“He’s early!”

“Put on your shoes!” Wanda yelled back at her.

She huffed but obliged, buckling up the strappy heels that paired with the dress. As she heard Wanda answer the door, she completed her outfit with a simple gold bracelet, stud earrings, and a spritz of a floral perfume.

Then she walked into the living room, and her greeting to Bucky died out in a gasp as she saw who stood in the living room instead of her date, her stomach twisting up and turning sour. “Steve, what?”

He smiled, pink lips surrounded by a full golden beard that hadn’t been there before. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms across her chest, shy at the way his eyes dragged across her form.

“Bucky was called away for something by Tony,” he answered. “Buck didn’t want to have to cancel on you, so he sent me instead.”

She was frozen for a moment, voice stopped in her throat by something sticky and unpleasant, but then she blurted out what every molecule in her body was screaming. “No.”

He raised his eyebrows. “No?”

“No,” she repeated, voice stronger now. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Steve. Get out.”

“Honey—”

“No! I’m serious, Steve, get out, right now. I’m not going on a date with you.”

Hurt flashed across his face, lips forming a pout in an impressive display of manipulative emotion. She could feel all of her roommates’ eyes on her. He said her name, softly, almost a whisper, and it almost worked, almost made her heart jump back on board with him.

But her resolve held strong, even as her skin itched at the memory of his touch.

“Our neighbor is a cop, Steve,” she said, pointing in the general direction of the apartment next to them. “Get out. Now. I’m not playing your game anymore.”

Pressing his lips together, he let out a long sigh. “Fine,” he replied, not clipped or short like he had been in the past, but gentle and accepting. “Have a good night, darling.”

And then he left, just like that.

It was silent in the apartment, only the sound of Steve’s footsteps growing quieter at he went down the hall.

Then, finally, America broke the silence. “Damn,” she said. “He must’ve really fucked up to get that treatment from you.”

“I’m going to bed.”

And with that, she retreated back to her room, locking the door behind her, hiding underneath a blanket, and ignoring every time her roommates tried to check on her.

She tried to tell herself that her heart hurt because Bucky had bailed on their date. But she couldn’t help but regret not going with Steve, wondering where he would’ve taken her, what they would’ve talked about, and if it would’ve been anything like how things used to be, so long ago.

Half of her felt justified in her reaction to him, angry that he had the gall to show up and expect her to go out with him, just like that, no apology, nothing. The other half of her felt so bad, and guilty, and it kept replaying the look of hurt on his face at her rejection, his defeat as he left the apartment. And more than that, he had actually respected her wishes, and he left. That had to count for something, right? Maybe he wasn’t all bad.

These conflicting emotions warred inside her for the better part of the next week. It didn’t help that Bucky didn’t come by or text her that entire week, and that made her so confused, like she had done something wrong and now he was mad at her for it.

Was he mad? Was he mad that she rejected Steve? Should she have texted him during the week instead? (Not that she hadn’t drafted about 57 messages to him and then deleted them before sending a single word).

Why was all of this so fucking complicated?

So her turmoil continued throughout another four discussion assignments for each of her classes, one shift at work, and five grueling swim practices in a row, until that Friday, when she came home and cried so hard in the shower that her roommates looked at her with pity in their eyes when they came out.

“Listen,” Wanda said her name and took her shoulders, forcing her to make eye contact despite her puffy red eyes. “You need to come out with us and have fun. And get super drunk and fuck someone else. Forget about Bucky and Steve. They’re old news.”

America piped up then, an enthusiastic, “Hey I got an eight-ball of yey! That’ll make you feel better!”

And at that point, she was so fucking tired of feeling sad, and feeling guilty, and feeling angry, and feeling conflicted over the stupid boys in her life.

“You know what, you’re right. Let’s go out tonight!”

It took one shot of Tito’s to get her into the silk minidress Wanda picked out, another to get her out of the apartment and to the club they picked downtown (courtesy of a fake ID provided to her by Kate), and an entire margarita to get her into the bathroom of the bar with a line of coke in front of her, awaiting her nose.

“Okay, cut that in half, America, she can’t snort that whole thing!” Wanda said, regulating the line America laid out for her. They had already both had their turns.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Y/N asked, uncertainty in her tone.

America rolled her eyes. “Dude, it’s cocaine. Do you wanna be safe, or do you wanna forget about Buck-nasty and Steve Buscemi?”

“Oh my fucking God,” Wanda snorted, “But she’s right, just do the line. We’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

“We do this all the time,” Kate reassured her.

“Uh, I don’t,” Kamala pointed out, ever the more conservative partier of the group.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, then rolled her eyes. “Whatever, fuck it.” It burned her nostrils going in and when she brought her head up, she thought her nose was bleeding, but there was no blood, and it was numb all the way into her sinuses and down her throat. “Holy shit!”

Every cell and atom in her body was charged and alert, like she had chugged six cups of coffee all at once or injected it into her veins. Her hands were shaking, but she barely registered that as euphoria and elation swept through her. Skin tingling, shivering, a smile swept over her face.

“How do you feel?” Wanda asked as Kate snorted the rest of the powder on the counter.

Y/N giggled and threw her arms up. “Oh my God!” She gasped, “Let’s go dance!”

Throughout the night, they hopped around to a few different clubs across the city, and they danced and drank and she took whatever drugs Wanda gave her, including more cocaine and a little purple pill that she slipped in her mouth and made her feel sososo good. Suddenly, she couldn’t even think about anything but the beat of the music shaking her bones and making tsunamis in her blood and the way her skin felt so soft and smooth, and how nice it felt when the people around her danced against her body.

The lights twirled in her eyes and on her skin and they almost tickled against her skin, so funny that she laughed and laughed until her stomach cramped and someone pushed another drink into her hand. Tequila burned her lips and she didn’t mind it as much as she normally did especially with the fresh burst of the lime that Wanda shoved between her lips when she almost gagged.

She lost track of time, and places, and people. All she knew was the bass in her skull and the bodies against her, dancing to the rhythm like a séance or a ritual or something almost spiritual.

Denim pants against her legs, and someone’s mesh crop top on her palms, and long silky hair gliding against her bare arms, and soft lips on her neck, and sticky lip gloss stains left on her skin. Hands, hands everywhere, pushing up her dress, touching her through the silk, and God, the feeling of her own silk dress on her skin felt so good, she just had to rub her own belly and sides and hips for the feeling—

And heat, so much heat, rising up her chest and suffocating her brain. She couldn’t get a breath of fresh air, she was breathing through a plastic bag, and she turned to the person she thought was Wanda and gasped, “I’m gonna go outside for a second!”

After she made her way through the bodies and out the doors, the fresh air felt so clean on her face, and she broke out in goosebumps as the sweat covering her body evaporated into the brisk October air.

Wait—wait, wait, wait a second. She knew the bridge in front of the club. And what did that familiar street sign say? Or was she hallucinating from the copious amounts of drugs she took?

Were they in Brooklyn? She didn’t even remember taking the subway!

The streetlights and cars swam in her vision, twisting and twirling like the fucking Tilt-A-Whirl at Coney Island, which definitely wasn’t as fun as Bucky insisted it was, and this felt exactly like that.

She turned and leaned her hands on her knees and panted like she had just swam a 100-meter race with her shitty breaststroke.

“You okay, girl?” The voice was deep, maybe the bouncer, she wasn’t sure, all she could see was the concrete and her toenails painted blue, poking out through her heels.

But she managed a reply, her words slurred around the numbness of her tongue, “Yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m great, yeah.”

“Uh—”

And then, very casually, she face-planted into the brick wall beside her.

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ladyxxdaydream · 3 years

Note

Of course feel free to ignore this if its stepping boundaries. And if it is im sorry!! Im processing heartbreak of my own (3 years and it ended abruptly last summer) so I feel for you when you talk about yours (though I know yours was longer, im sorry). I actually found NATA a bit after and it seriously helped me through some of the toughest times, I kid you not. And then I'll Fall did as well and then all your others lol. And through falling in love with them I fell back into this fandom and back in love with writing and back in love with loving, honestly?? Despite the pain, those stories kinda made me a romantic lol. I was so hurt (still hurt) but I dunno.. they helped me really wanna do better, get better, strive for more. They helped me not give up on love and not close myself off which I always used to do. Ahh I dunno, I just wanted to let you know that your work has been a big comfort to me. And again if I overstepped, im really sorry!

I read this hours ago, and then re-read it several times, and then sent it to two of my friends, all while crying. I am so, so touched. this is probably one of the sweetest, most amazing things anyone has ever said to me.

i’m going to put the rest of my response under a cut because its gonna be long and your vulnerability is something i want to meet equally.

listen. when i first read this... i wanted to be bitter. bitter because I’ll Fall and NATA are directly influenced by my eight marriage that just ended; those are the only two fics I’ve written that are connected to my relationship, and ironically (or maybe not lol) my most popular and well loved stories. I’ll Fall is the story of how my partner and I met -- some of those scenes are directly lifted from my life -- and so much of myself and my wife are written inside Iruka and Kakashi in NATA, chronicling how our relationship grew over time. Of course, those stories are heavily embellished and transformed into a plot but my point is... reading that they helped you not give up and love, both broke my heart and healed me all at once.

I remember when my relationship ended, NATA was not yet complete, and I had this horrible moment where I thought: “if the seed that directly inspired them ended, then they also need to end.” I LITERALLY CONTEMPLATED DIVORCING THEM. But I am not a horrible person lmaoooo and of course they are a completely different entity than my marriage -- they were inspired by each other, not one in the same.

Even though that was my first reaction to your ask, it quickly faded away. Because... I find it absolutely beautiful and so incredible that my stories made you not give up on love, and to not close yourself off, and help you move on or let go. Because while my love (and your love) ended... it doesn’t mean it didn’t exist. It existed. It was real. And it was beautiful. And then it ended. And that’s okay. Love isn’t finite. And it comes in so many forms. And every variation of it is unique and special. Love will come again. It’ll come many times. Even if it’s not in the form of a person--love is everywhere, and everything.

And you know, writing that final chapter for NATA, a few months after my break up, was actually cathartic. I thought it would feel like a lie, but it didn’t. Writing them reminded me of how beautiful love can be, and I’m really grateful for it. I, too, learned a lot from them. They also served as my coping mechanism so to speak, providing me comfort and security. And I am beyond humbled and thrilled to know it served someone else in the same way.

It’s still hard for me to even comprehend, to be honest; the fact that those two fics inspire such emotional responses from people. But I think the reason people have responded to NATA and I’ll Fall so strongly, is because I laid myself bare. All my vulnerabilities and insecurities, and flaws, and heartbreak (in i’ll fall) are written all over it, as well as my experiences with love, which i’ve been blessed with richly, despite what may have happened. People always say to write what you know, and I guess I took that very literally lmao

anyway. i hope things get easier for you, if they haven’t already. i’m... five months? post-separation and still very much raw. and i gotta say... experiencing a break up during the pandemic is extra hard and weird. our friends cant hold us while we cry. we cant go out dancing or to a bar or do anything even remotely social that might help us ease us down that river of moving on, or give us that feeling of being newly single? idk? it makes an isolating experience even MORE isolating. and has made the finality seem less real somehow? like ... sometimes i feel like im just waiting to get back together... even though i know thats not going to happen... i dont know if thats just my experience but...fuck.

i think my only advice is just... let yourself feel it. my biggest tool is meditation and trying to stay present. my favorite set of mantras recently is very simple -- each word corresponds with an inhale / exhale:

in/out

deep/slow

calm/ease

smile/release

present moment/wonderful moment.

And this quote by Louise Erdich:

“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”

And this poem by Buddy Wakefield, which might seem like an odd thing to watch while heartbroken but shrug??? lmao it’s a tear-jerking but also a real honest show of love at it’s finest.

And music. Music has always been a balm for my soul. Or cracked me open. Sometimes I need to be cracked open. Crying is the best medicine.

Suit of Armor by Danika Smith

going thru by christian alexander

holy by jamila woods

chin up by yoke lore

conversation by lucy rose

plus a zillion more.

ANYWAY, anon. I’m here for you. And my stories will always be there for you, whenever you need them. 💖 sending all of my love!!!!!!!

#asks #NATA #IFIYD #im still reeling from this #T-T

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yunaffie · 4 years

Text

Second Life

Exchange fic for @trucywright as part of @fyeahghosttrick‘s Ghost Swap fanworks exchange.

Prompt: “free spot for any and all Alma content”

Happy Ghost Swap, dear recipient! Hope it’s to your liking!

Crossposted to AO3 here.

A shrill ring cuts through the cacophony of a babbling toddler and the thumps of her plastic bowl. Snapping her book shut, Alma follows the sound, anticipating her husband on the other end of the phone. A fierce growl emanates from her stomach, spurred on by the aroma of curry.

"Hey, baby, it's me."

"Cabanela? Let me guess, Jowd's going to be late, right?"

"Well, that's not quite it. You see, things got pretty crazy today and now I'm callin' from the hospital-"

The word 'hospital' rings in Alma's ears, provoking a sharp intake of breath. Curling her fingers around the receiver, she utters a single whisper. "No."

"Whoah, it's okay, baby, it's nothin' serious. Just a leg wound, that's all. I think you should come down here though, not sure he's in any condition to drive."

Alma feels the thrums of her heart beneath her palm. "You had me scared for a moment. I'll be right over." Bundling Kamila onto the car, she takes off, keeping the speed limit in mind as she weaves through traffic. Jowd is putting his life on the line every day as an officer of the law but even knowing that, a little thing like him getting hurt is enough to steal away her breath. Swallowing, she blinks away the sudden onset of tears and focuses solely on reaching her destination.

"Hey." Cabanela is right there. Alma seeks comfort in his warm chest, holding Kamila to one side. "Gods, what a day this has been." When he steps back, she notices how his usual vibrant energy has faded, leaving him with slumped shoulders and a haggard expression. "And it was all because of me. I'm sorry, baby. I screwed up, and Jowd got hurt."

"Don't be ridiculous." Alma's tone is stern. "Was he shot? Even if he was, that was in no way your fault. He knew what he was getting into when he joined the force."

Cabanela's head sways from side to side. "I'll explain it to you on the way."

Alma absorbs every detail with keen interest: an interrogation gone wrong, the suspect fleeing with gun in hand, Jowd in pursuit, a hostage situation, the meteorite impact out of the blue.

"A meteorite fragment? Are you serious?"

"Sure am. Jowd got to see a meteorite fallin' close up. Must have been an amazin' view. Sure wish I could have seen it."

"So he wasn't shot then."

"Oh, no. Thank the gods for that. I don't think I could live with myself if it was my own gun that hurt him."

"And what of the little girl? What happened to the man?"

"The little girl's fine. Jowd says the criminal peeled himself off a lamppost and threw the girl to safety while his own legs turned to jelly under a fallin' rock. Look, I don't understand it anymore than you do, baby."

"Wow." Alma bounces Kamila around in her arms. "You weren't kidding about things getting crazy."

"Nooope, I sure wasn't." Cabanela opens the door and gestures for her to enter.

Jowd is sitting on the bed, his leg swathed in bandages, with his folded coat beside him. Alma lets out a quiet gasp and Jowd's eyes meet hers. For a long second, husband and wife are caught in each other's stares, neither uttering a word. Alma breaks the spell, his name slipping from her lips as she thrusts Kamila into Cabanela's arms. Flying to Jowd's chest, she sinks into his comforting embrace.

"Alma... oh, gods... you're alive. You're okay."

Alma pulls back with a quizzical frown, finding herself the subject of an intense stare. His eyes are coated with a glistening sheen. "Jowd, are you alright?"

Fluttering his eyelids, Jowd takes in a breath and releases it. "I'm just so happy to see you, that's all."

Doubt radiates from her eyes. Those words had been heavy and loaded with meaning, spoken by a man deep in the throes of his emotions. "I can't believe you got hit by a meteorite." His facial hair is rough and tickly against her palm. "Just what are the chances of that?"

"I wonder. Probably less than being hit by lightning. Not that I ever got the chance to discover what that feels like." Jowd's chuckle rings hollow in her ears. The flash of mirth in his expression goes out like a light. His next words are directed at Cabanela. "Hand me my daughter, would you?"

"Heeere you go, baby."

"Daddy," Kamila burbles, stretching her tiny arms. Jowd holds her aloft under intense scrutiny before taking her into his embrace, bringing his lips to her head.

"Kamila. You're going to be alright now. I won't leave you ever again."

His words are like a faint breeze flowing past Alma's ears. It might be she wasn't meant to catch them at all.

Once he's in the foyer of his home, Jowd transforms into a statue, resting on his crutches. Alma peers at his face, mystified by the dazed look in his eyes.

"So I'll just hang this up, shall I?" Cabanela is already placing Jowd's coat on a hook.

"Hm?" Jowd's head twists toward his voice. "Oh. Yes, that's right. Cabanela, check my coat pockets, would you?"

"Sure. Huh?" Cabanela holds aloft a bundle of black fur. "What's thiiis?"

"Meet the newest member of our family. His name is Sissel."

A rush of protests flow forth from Alma's lips at the unexpected news. How could Jowd not tell them to buy the necessities for a cat on the way home, she asks. Jowd's response is not to worry about it but Alma isn't convinced. At the very least, she has to put out a bowl of water and a plate of leftover chicken, as well as some newspaper in a cardboard box. How can Jowd expect a kitten to go without food, water, or somewhere to do his business for an entire night?

They sit down to dinner, hearing Kamila's excited cries from the next room as she gets to know their newest family member.

Jowd lifts the spoon to his mouth, blowing on the curry before taking his first mouthful. "Ahh. This curry. It's just as I remember."

Eyes meet across the table, flashes of concern striking in midair. It was only a week ago that curry was last eaten in this house. Jowd brings one spoonful after another to his mouth with gusto.

"Calm down." A small laugh bubbles through Alma's lips. "You'll choke if you keep eating that fast."

Jowd takes a sip of water. "It's just so good." Capturing Alma and Cabanela in his intense stare, he continues. "I'm so glad. Being at home with my family, seeing you all happy, it's such a wonderful thing. I'm so thankful to have you all in my life."

"Jowd." Alma's hand covers his. "Are you okay?"

"I nearly killed a man with my own hands and then got struck by a meteorite. On the plus side, I adopted a kitten so I guess it wasn't that bad a day." Jowd lifts his shoulders, his lips curving in a smile that fails to reach his eyes. "It could have been a lot worse."

Alma draws back her hand, lines furrowing her brow.

When the time comes for Cabanela to return to his home, Alma follows him outside.

"Somethin' sure is straaange about Jowd, huh?" Cabanela rests a hand on his hip. "I don't know what's going on, but he does seem a bit off."

"I don't understand." Alma pinches her lower lip between her teeth. "That way he looked at me in the hospital and what he said. Did you see how he kind of froze up when we got home? Then the stuff with the curry. I think something happened in that park and it changed him."

"His near death experience might have sooomething to do with it. Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll tell us eventually. If not, we're just gonna have to coax it out of him, baby. No way we'll just let him suffer in silence."

"You're right. We're here for him." Rubbing her arms, Alma adds, "Tonight could have been so different."

"Well, fortunately, it wasn't." Cabanela grips his forehead. "Gods, I still can't believe I messed up like that."

"You made a mistake. It happens." Alma's words are like a gentle tide striving to wash away his guilt. "Don't beat yourself up over it too much, okay? Just learn from your mistakes and move on. That's all you can do."

"Right. I'll do my best to make up for it. Goodnight, Alma." Cabanela plants a kiss on her cheek before whisking away in a flurry of white fabric.

Retreating inside, Alma discovers Kamila nodding off as she nestles in her father's arms. Sissel perches behind Jowd, looking over his shoulder as if taking an interest in this spectacle himself.

"I'll take her to bed." Alma extracts their sleepy toddler. After sending Kamila into slumber, she comes to Jowd's side. "So. Anything you would like to do tonight?"

Jowd tilts his head while several seconds tick by. "Music. Put on one of your favourite artists."

"Alright, music it is."

As the music flows, Alma nestles against Jowd's warm bulk. His broad and gentle arm encircles her, filling her with overflowing love and comfort. Closing her eyes, she commits herself to the flowing melody. A splash of moisture against her skin draws her attention to Jowd. Two glistening trails are streaking down his cheeks.

"It's okay, sweetie." Alma presses her hand to his damp skin. Jowd's searching gaze ensnares her, pulling her into its twin wells of sadness. "I'm here, you know."

"You're really here. Alma." Jowd's words land heavily, laden by the weight of his emotions.

"Mmm." Eyes lingering on her husband's visage, Alma traces the sharp contours of his well defined cheeks with her fingertips. In the corner of her eye, she catches the twitch of a tail and extends her hand. Sissel's dark fur is soft to the touch. Scratching the base of his ears, she offers him an invitation.

With a meow, Sissel stretches his legs, light rippling over his taut form before he hops gracefully into Alma's lap. As she strokes him, the vibration emanating from his body grows even louder.

"What a sweet little kitten. So, what made you decide to name him Sissel?"

"Hm. I suppose it just popped into my head."

"You know Sissel is usually a girl's name, right?"

"I don't think he really cares."

"Fair enough." The kitten has taken to lying across her lap. Alma's stroking continues, a purely mechanical motion kept up even as she drifts into her thoughts. So many things are off. Someday Jowd will surely tell her and she'll wait until then.

Silence falls over them with the music's end, a cue for them to turn in. Before the light goes off, Jowd takes Alma in his arms, "Goodnight, Alma." His warm breath caresses her face as he brushes his lips over hers. "I love you."

"I love you too," Alma says, with another kiss. "Goodnight."

During the days that pass by, Alma watches. She notices all the little things. Stares pinning her a beat too long. Eyes hazing as he drifts away on the tide of thoughts. Recollections beyond his grasp, as though no longer fresh but tainted by time that shouldn't exist. Her name passes his lips more often as do his declarations of love. His slightly cynical side seems to have amplified over time. The retorts he let loose are often darkly humorous in nature. Alma and Cabanela have many tales to share of Jowd's bizarre words and actions.

Alma is frequently roused from slumber by Jowd's fitful mutters or the bed rocking in tune with his tosses and turns. Her name is spoken many times, infused with pain. She pulls him out of the nightmares and he clutches her like she's his salvation in the midst of a storm, soothed by her reassuring words.

A painting has taken the place of the antique gun that was on display. Jowd's explanation is short and simple. He fancied a change. Nothing is said about what prompted him to make the change in the first place.

The sight of Kamila dangling Sissel and twirling one day provokes a gasp of horror from Alma, who immediately retrieves the kitten, issuing gentle admonishments. Sissel seems fine in spite of it all, not having made a peep as one would expect of a kitten at the mercy of a small child. It occurs to Alma that he has never scratched anyone. The house remains clear of his fur. His litter box is perpetually clean. Even his food and water bowls are never touched.

There are times Alma will catch sight of Jowd and Sissel lost in each other's stares. Once, as they remained oblivious to her presence, she saw for herself how her husband's face changed or how Sissel would twitch various body parts. If she didn't know any better, she would swear they were having a conversation.

The mystery only deepens with the awareness that Sissel isn't growing over the months he has been with them.

A year has elapsed since the park incident. Jowd has a grave look on his face as he announces that he has something important to tell Alma and Cabanela. Once Kamila is asleep, the three gather round the table. Sissel watches from the sill.

"So." Jowd puts his hands together. "Where should I begin?"

"The day in the park, right?" Cabanela's expression is grim. "Ever since that day, sooomething's been off about you, baby. Alma and I have been worried about you all this time."

"I know." Jowd's breath billows forth in a heavy gust. "I never had any intention of hiding this from you forever. Sissel wouldn't have allowed it either."

"Huh?" Alma shoots a glance at the kitten. "Wait, so you really have been talking to the cat?"

"It might be easier if I just get this out of the way first. Sissel, perform a trick, would you?"

Sissel collapses like a puppet with its strings cut. The soft hum of the overhead fan picks up, its guttural whine filling the room as it rotates faster, stirring the air and turning it into a strong breeze that wafts over them, ruffling their hair and clothes.

"Ye gods."

"H-how..." Alma brings trembling fingers to her mouth.

"That's Sissel's power. A ghost trick, a power of the dead."

It suddenly makes sense. The random noises heard around the house. Objects moved or transformed without explanation. It was the work of this supposedly dead kitten.

"But, but..." Alma struggles to call the words forth. "When? How did he die?"

"The meteorite. The fragment that pierced my leg is inside Sissel's body."

"But this makes no sense! How can he move around and stuff? Why isn't he, like, rottin'?"

"That's the meteorite's power. His body is immortal. Nothing can damage him. I could put him in the microwave for five minutes and he would come out of it completely fine."

Alma kneads her forehead. In the span of five minutes, she's learned the cat is dead and her husband has joked about microwaving him. She is tempted by the siren call of another glass of wine but quickly dismisses it. This is too important a conversation to be lost to the blurring effects of alcohol on the memory.

"That meteorite grants powers of the dead, even to those who merely die within its radiation. And now that you know all about it, it's time to tell you the story of an alternate version of events that went down in the park."

The man Jowd faced in the park was killed by the meteorite, a fact that drains all the colour from Cabanela's face. Sharp, spiky pain pierces Alma's chest, brought forth by the knowledge that Jowd blamed himself. How must it have felt, being consumed by that guilt?

It gets worse. Four years into the future, on Alma's birthday, Kamila made a surprise contraption and it was instrumental in her mother's death. Or rather, her murder, carried out by that man with the powers of the dead. Jowd is still speaking, his words growing increasingly tinny and distant. Alma cradles her head in her hands, her ears filling with a dull roar.

She was murdered by a man she had never met, his actions spurred by the desire to make Jowd feel pain. Heat and cold twist together in a fierce maelstrom, churning inside of her trembling body.

"Why?" Her voice quivers like a leaf caught in the wind. A veil of moisture sweeps over her eyes, transforming everything into a blur. "Why me? I didn't do anything. Why did I have to die? Jowd didn't mean to... he didn't put that man in the meteorite's path on purpose!"

"How could he?" Cabanela's words lash out, sharp as a whip. The table judders from the impact of his fist. "Taking Alma's life like that, making it look like that poor little girl's fault!"

"Alma, are you alright?" The weight of Jowd's hand settles upon her shoulder. "Should we stop here?"

"No." Alma dashes the back of her hand across her eyes. "Keep going. I'm okay." It's a lie, constructed for the sake of keeping this conversation going. No way will she put this off after waiting so long.

Jowd's next revelation hits like a punch to the gut. Claiming credit for Alma's murder, Jowd turned his back on their daughter, leaving her to someone else's care. By this point, Alma is completely numb. Jowd's agony radiates from every crevice of his face, simmering away in the hollow pools of his eyes. She sees all those moments she found Jowd standing over Kamila's crib in a whole new light.

Five years later, Jowd was to be executed. A saviour came to his cell; a ghost with the man's face in search of his lost memory. Said ghost would go on to become their beloved family pet. Alma watches Cabanela's face change as he hears detail after detail, ending in a look of relief over the revelation he was working to save Jowd all along.

"But of course I was, baby. I would never, ever doubt you. Still, five years and me not even visitin' you once? What's up with that?"

"I'm so glad. You had people who believed in you, fighting for your sake." Tears spill forth, coursing down Alma's cheeks. "Thank goodness."

"Yes. No matter how much I insisted, they refused to listen, and I'm so very grateful. Thank you, Cabanela."

"No need to thank me, baby. You're one of my best friends in the whooole world and I would never give up on you."

"So, what happened next? What happened to Kamila?"

Jowd launches into the next part of the tale, detailing how his and Lynne's pursuit of the manipulator went horribly wrong. Alma covers her mouth, horror constricting her chest in its tightening band. Kamila sinking into oblivion within the freezing confines of a destroyed submarine. Jowd gunned down, also lost to the depths of the sea. Even with the odds against them all, they found the ray of hope in the darkness and it was down that path of light that they found salvation in the form of a whole new ten years.

"And so, here we are." Jowd's shoulders sag. "Any questions?"

"Gods." Cabanela rubs his forehead. "I don't even know where to begin."

Alma drags her gaze to the clock, observing the time. On cue, her mouth opens in a yawn. Despite the tiredness weighing her down, she doubts she'll sleep tonight. Bringing her eyes back to Jowd, a fresh pang pierces her chest. For a whole year, he held in all this pain, all these secrets. Embracing him from behind, she buries her face in the crook of his neck. "Oh, Jowd."

Cabanela comes to her side, joining her in embracing Jowd. "I'm glaaad you finally told us, baby. You did the right thing."

Countless minutes tick by while they hold on, lingering in each other's presence. When they break away, Alma turns to the kitten and pulls him to her chest. "Thank you, Sissel. You saved us all. Thank you so much." Her gratitude is acknowledged with a mew.

The lateness of the night draws them all to bed. Jowd and Alma lie beneath the sheets under the cover of darkness, silence hanging over them like a heavy weight.

"You shouldn't have left her."

"I know."

"You should have been there for her. She needed you."

"I'll never abandon her ever again, I promise you."

"I believe you." Alma's chest rises sharply and falls, her breath rushing out in a great sigh. "To think I was just murdered, out of the blue, leaving you two well before my time, it's so awful. How could he do that? I know, you told me everything, and I do feel sorry for him, but I can't just ignore what he did."

"I understand."

"Gods. I wondered what you were hiding for so long, but I never imagined it would be anything like this. I don't know how you managed to keep quiet for a whole year."

"Having a therapy cat helped."

"Right, you had Sissel to talk to." Alma scoots closer, draping her arm over his chest. "Well, now we all know, so that's a load off our minds, isn't it?"

"Yes. It's a relief really, having it all out in the open at last." Jowd kisses the top of Alma's head. "I'm so lucky to have all this back. When you died, I just fell to pieces. I missed you so much. Sometimes I still can't quite believe it. I'll wake up in the morning and see you lying next to me and I just feel so incredibly relieved."

"Oh, Jowd." Alma seeks out his face, stroking her fingers along his stubbled cheek. A deep ache wells in her chest. It's okay, she assures herself, she won't die. Nobody is going to suffer from her loss. Their happy family life will continue beyond four years from now.

Dipping in and out of sleep, Alma emerges from a gruelling nightmare involving her being six feet under. Seeking out the clock display, she learns that it's five in the morning.

"Forget it." Throwing on a bathrobe, Alma slouches downstairs.

Cabanela sits at the table. Little white wisps rise from the mug in front of him. "Hey, baby. Sleep well?"

"What do you think?" Alma peers at him through lowered lids, speaking in a voice as thick as syrup.

"Yeah. That's what I thought." Cabanela stretches his arms over his head. "Didn't sleeeep so hot either. I just couldn't stop thinkin' about it. Anyhoot, I just boiled the kettle, so help yourself."

"Thanks." Alma pours herself coffee and joins Cabanela. The warmth of the mug seeps into her hands. Gazing deep into the murky brown depths within, she speaks. "It's all so crazy, isn't it? To think all this stuff happened in another timeline. A different ten years. And I was dead for five of them."

A breath, heavy as lead, slips past Cabanela's lips, while he shakes his head. "I can't imagine how it must have felt. Your dying and Jowd's imprisonment. You two are the most important people in my life and I can't bear the thought of you both not being there anymore."

Alma takes small sips of the coffee. The searing liquid is as bitter as her thoughts. How could a man murder her on her birthday and leave her child motherless, with a lifetime of guilt in her place? Bile gushes up from her churning stomach, filling her throat. No use dwelling, she tells herself, best to put it out of her mind. "At least I got my life back." Meeting Cabanela's gaze, she offers him a weak smile. "I should be thankful for that. I've got a second chance."

"That's riiight, baby." Cabanela responds with a smile of his own. "So let's stay positive, shall we? Maybe we should think of something nice to do today, take our mind off things. Just get out there and enjoy life."

With another long sip, Alma dwells in silent contemplation. "Yes. I should think of it as an opportunity to do all the things I wanted to do. Better be realistic though, I don't think we could afford a luxury cruise to Hawaii."

"Probably not, but we can find other things to do. Maybe we can teach Jowd to dance."

"I said realistic."

Their exchanged laugh is accompanied by the heavy falls of Jowd's feet. "Hm? Did someone mention my name just now?"

"Hey, baby. So nice of you to join us. Ahh, the early hours of the morning, nooothin' like it."

"Definitely something easier to appreciate once you've had a cup of coffee," Jowd mutters, making his way into the kitchen. Brandishing his own mug, he joins them at the table. "Well, what a night that was, eh?"

"Thank you for finally telling us," says Alma. "We were so worried."

"I know." Jowd's smile does little to banish the sadness hanging over him. "Sorry for troubling you so much. It does feel better to finally have it out in the open."

"From now on, just tell us whatever you're feelin', baby. We're always here for you, you know that."

"Yes. I appreciate you both being so patient and understanding."

"Now, why don't we have a good looong chat about all the things we're going to do with our new lives?"

Their conversation continues through the long hours ahead, interrupted only by trips for more coffee. The presence of a fourth person approaches, signalled by the patter of tiny feet. Kamila rubs her eyes as she stumbles forwards, followed by a little black kitten.

"Good morning, sweetheart," says Jowd. "How are you this morning?"

"I want juice. And I'm hungry."

Alma's swallows do little to banish the lump filling her throat. Emotion flows over her in a crashing wave, spurring her to lunge for her daughter and clasp that tiny body to her bosom in a fierce yet gentle embrace.

"Kamila. Oh, Kamila!" Alma's weeping voice gushes forth, flowing with relief. "Oh, my sweet little girl."

Kamila's tiny arms loop around Alma's neck. Hearing loud sniffles, her eyes fill with concern. "Are you crying, Mommy?"

"Huh?" Alma brings her fingers to her cheeks, finding drops of moisture clinging to her skin.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm just happy to see you." Alma rubs a thumb over one of Kamila's round, soft cheeks. "I love you so very much, Kamila, you know that, don't you?"

"Mmhmm." Kamila's head bobs, a smile spreading over her beaming face. "And I love you too."

Alma wipes her eyes, momentarily lost in the radiance of her daughter's innocent smile. Keeping her voice steady, she poses a question. "Juice and something to eat, then?"

"Yeah."

"Here, why don't you come and sit in Daddy's lap?" Jowd pats his leg and Kamila scampers over. Alma's gaze lingers over them, renewed emotion blossoming in her chest, while she goes to fulfil Kamila's request. As she gets the juice and food, a smile comes to her face, conjured by the thought of how they will live as happily as they can in the future granted to them by a miracle.

Telling the truth has only partially erased Jowd's troubles. At least Alma and Cabanela now share his burden, ready to lend an ear even as they deal with the issues the truth has brought to them.

Two years have gone by since the reveal. Alma stands outside the prison building, trepidation churning within her. Jowd has been here to see that man several times. The two of them share a deep understanding, having been through so much. Alma knows the man isn't bad anymore and she wouldn't dream of judging Jowd for staying in touch

Sometimes she wonders, does she dare see him? Why hesitate, there's nothing to be afraid of, but no, it's too soon, She isn't ready.

A woman flies out of the building with her head bowed. Alma stumbles back, knocked off balance by the resulting collision. The woman's purse falls to the ground, scattering its contents over the sidewalk.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry." Alma kneels, assisting the woman in gathering everything up. "I didn't see you."

"No, it's alright, I'm the one who should be sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going." The woman punctuates her sentence with an awkward laugh.

Alma's gaze is drawn to a bundle of scattered cards as she collects them into a neat pile. "Sissel?"

"Hm? Oh, my business cards." The woman takes them from Alma's outstretched hand.

It's no coincidence. This is her, the love of that man's life, the catalyst who drove him to cause Jowd the same pain.

"Thank you." During Alma's momentary daze, Sissel has got everything together and now she stands. "I really am so sorry about that. What a klutz I am."

"Please don't worry about it." Alma rises. "So, er, what is it you do?"

"I play the piano and sometimes I even sing. I get gigs here and there. Haven't managed to make it big just yet, but who knows, maybe one day."

"Well, good luck with that."

"Thanks." Sissel's gaze lingers on her briefly, diverted by a twist of her head toward the prison. "Are you visiting someone?"

"Oh. Oh no, I was just... er... I suppose I was just standing here lost in my thoughts."

"Oh?" Sissel tilts her head, a corner of her lip curving upward. "I see. So, was there something interesting about my name? You sounded pretty surprised."

"I've..." Alma pauses. "I've heard the name before." Meeting this woman came like a bolt out of the blue and now she has no idea what to do next. Go on her merry way or satisfy her curiosity? Settling on the latter, she speaks again. "Um, I hope you don't think this is a strange request, but would you like to talk some more? There's a cafe just down the street we could go to."

"I suppose it's better than standing around in the street waiting for more people to come bumping into us." Sissel laughs. "Sure, why not, it's not like I have anything else to do right now."

Finding an empty table at the café, they promptly order two cups of coffee. Sissel rests her chin in one hand. "Right, you know my name and job, so I suppose it's time I learned yours."

"I'm Alma. It's nice to meet you."

Sissel shakes the offered hand. "Nice to meet you too."

"As for what I do, I work in a library. The one at the courthouse."

"Ooh, I see. A courthouse, then? Are you interested in law?"

"I've read quite a few books and studied it a bit. Law, criminal psychology, that sort of thing. Actually, my husband is a detective"

"Huh." Sissel lowers her gaze.

"Is something the matter?"

"Oh, no, it's just..." Sitting back, Sissel folds her arms. "I'm sure you must be wondering who I was visiting and why they were in prison."

Alma keeps her expression neutral. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, it's alright." Sissel's eyes wander over the centre of the table where a meny sits. When they snap back to focus on Alma's, a sudden intensity burns within. "He's not a bad man."

Not now, no. Alma finds herself mentally replaying the excruciating details gleaned from Jowd as she has done so many times before.

"He's really good at computers. They had him on a huge project, but then the police thought he might be a spy. He was brought in for interrogation. Then this fool detective-" Sissel's words are broken off by the arrival of their coffee. She takes a sip before continuing. "He pushed him so hard, even though he was innocent, made him lose hope, and then even worse, that fool left his gun in the room. Can you believe it?"

"It was careless." Alma rests the rim of her mug against her lips, inhaling the aroma before taking a sip. "And then your loved one escaped. Another detective chased him down to a park where he took a child hostage."

"Oh, you've read about the case."

"Not quite." Alma's mouth twists. "That man who left his gun? My friend. The second man? My husband." Pinned to the spot by Sissel's stare, she tunes in to the hustle and bustle surrounding them. After a minute or so, the awkward feeling prompts her to speak again. "If you want to tell me exactly what you think of them or me and leave, I understand."

"Huh. What a coincidence."

Not quite, but 'I'm considering meeting your fiancé, who murdered me in another timeline' isn't going to go down terribly well, so Alma keeps her mouth shut on that particular subject. "They both went too far, and they really do feel a lot of remorse."

"I know, they were only doing their jobs. Yomiel's not holding it against them. Anyway, they spoke in his favour during the trial and I think that got him a lesser sentence, so I should be grateful, really." Her eyes flare with a deep sadness as she smiles. "Just a shame things turned out the way they did."

Alma's throat bobs.

Sissel brings the mug to her lips, taking another sip before setting it down with a dull thud. "All I can do is accept it. Yomiel wouldn't want me to be blaming anyone. At least he's alive, and he'll be out eventually."

"You must love him very much."

"Oh, yes, I do." Sissel's face transforms, lighting up with a radiant glow. "Yomiel is everything to me. He's so sweet, so thoughtful and caring. That day, he was so out of it, desperate, panicking. They made him think his life was over."

"I know."

"I just don't want anyone having the wrong idea about him. I visit him every day. It's hard, but I'm doing my best. Things could have turned out so much worse."

"I'm really sorry."

"It's not your fault." Leaning forward, Sissel rests her chin in her hands. "So, anything to tell me about yourself? I know you're married to a detective. Anything else?"

"Hm, well, we have a young daughter, and a cat." Realizing her error too late, Alma sends a prayer to the heavens, pleading for Sissel to not inquire about the cat's name.

"Oh, you have a little girl? How lovely. What's she like?"

Alma stops herself from expressing her relief just in time. "Kamila is so precious. She's quiet as a mouse and she just loves making things, all these toys and contraptions. I never know what she's going to make next."

"She really sounds like a delight. How about your husband, what's he like?"

"Well, he's a wonderful man, though his sense of humour is a little twisted and his personality can rub people the wrong way. Jowd and Cabanela make such a pair together. Ah, Cabanela's the other guy. He's like a part of our family too."

"The ruthless interrogator?"

"He was trying too hard." Alma shakes her head. "He had just gotten admitted to the Special Investigation Unit and thought he would try to impress them."

"By interrogating an innocent man?" Sissel's lip curls as she lets out a derisive snort. "Ah, sorry, I-"

"Oh, no, no, be as honest as you like. Still, I wouldn't call him ruthless. I don't know what image you have of him, but if you saw the real Cabanela, that image would be quickly shattered. He's really unique, in a sense. He's easygoing, laid back, always dancing."

"Dancing?" One of Sissel's slender eyebrows shoots upwards.

"You have to see it to believe it. I hope it doesn't seem like I'm trying to defend them. I just want you to know they aren't necessarily the ruthless men you might think they are."

Sissel flashes a reassuring smile at her. "Really, it's okay. I get it." Draining the last of her coffee, she sets down the mug and stares into it, a cloud passing over her eyes. "I'm glad. It doesn't seem like you're judging my fiancé."

"No, I'm really not."

"Some of our friends didn't want anything to do with him anymore, or me when I defended him. They didn't even try to understand why he took that child hostage. There must have been so many people judging him and thinking he was a terrible person when it was in the news."

"I'm so sorry to hear it."

"Oh, well. I guess I learned who my real friends were at least."

"You have people you can still talk to, don't you? I'm sure it must be hard."

"I have some friends left. Anyway, it's enough that Yomiel is alive. I hate having to say goodbye but I know he'll be out one day. He was so badly injured back then." Sissel shudders. "I could have lost him. I don't know what I would do without him."

Alma averts her gaze, pushing back the lump in her throat. "Well, that's good that you have some support then." Checking the time on her watch, she adds. "Is that the time already?"

"I guess you should be going then? I'd better get off too, get some shopping done on my way home."

Outside the cafe, Sissel takes a card from her purse and holds it out to Alma. "Here you go. If you want to talk or meet up again, here's my number."

"Really? I almost thought you might not be interested."

"Well, I don't see any reason not to." Sissel tilts her head. "I almost feel like us meeting might not have been a total coincidence."

"Hmm. You know what, I don't think it was either."

"It was very nice to meet you. Well, then, hope to see you another time." Sissel walks away with a wave. Alma watches her blend into the distant crowd with a smile, slipping the card into her own purse.

At a later date, Alma gets in touch with Sissel. Their next meeting is at a restaurant where Sissel is performing. Alma is impressed by how well she can play the piano and sing. Their meetings continue well beyond that and they talk about all sorts of things, the subject of their loved ones in particular.

Five years past the meteorite's fall, Alma's birthday rolls around. Jowd announces that he's made plans for dinner, and even bought crafts to keep Kamila occupied. "If we can try and get off work early, that would be good too. Sissel's going to be around, so Kamila won't be lonely either. I want this day to be different."

"I understand." Alma doesn't feel ready to see the contraption in action either. They go to work as usual and come home with Cabanela, discovering Kamila deeply absorbed in craftwork under Sissel's watchful gaze. The evening is spent dining at Alma's favourite restaurant and they all have a wonderful time. When it's all over, Jowd and Alma fall asleep in their bed, snug in each other's embraces.

The years fly by. Alma enjoys her life with considerable vigor as does Cabanela. They remain conscious of how precious their time is, never forgetting for a single moment. Alma continues meeting Sissel and even makes a new friend in the Justice Minister's wife, who she introduces to Sissel. It doesn't take long before Emma is inspired to write a romance novel involving a jailbird. Seeing how well they get along, Alma is glad to have brought another person into Sissel's life. It's hard for Sissel, being separated from her loved one by prison walls, and Alma will do whatever she can to ease Sissel's pain, even if it's just a little bit.

Alma's birthday comes round, ten years after that fateful day. Coming home from work, Alma is the first to go inside. Greeted with a dark room, she reaches for the light switch only to freeze. Kamila has finally brought the contraption into existence, hasn't she? Alma wouldn't dream of spoiling her daughter's birthday surprise. Time to see it in action.

"Here we go." Steeling herself, Alma flips the switch and light floods the room. The contraption plays out before her eyes. Cupid's arrow takes flight, its fiery tip striking the party poppers. Loud pops fill the air as streamers fly. She covers her mouth. Jowd's stories couldn't have prepared her for this. It's incredible what Kamila was capable of even five years ago.

Kamila bursts out of the cupboard and runs over to Alma with the kitten in hot pursuit. "Did I surprise you, Mom?"

"Oh. Oh, yes, wow. You really made that yourself?"

"Of course!" Kamila beams, throwing her arms around Alma's waist. "Happy birthday, Mom."

Embracing her daughter, Alma strokes her hair. "Thank you, Kamila. That was a lovely surprise." Behind her, the door opens. Jowd's puzzled expression quickly fades, a knowing smile taking its place.

Some time later, Alma gets a call from Sissel. Joining her husband on the sofa, she clears her throat. "Sissel's fiancé, er, Yomiel is out of prison."

"Yes, he was released a couple of days ago."

"I see." Alma's head tilts.

"Is there something on your mind?"

"I used to go to the prison and think about seeing him myself. Then I met Sissel and she told me all about him instead. If I keep seeing her, I might bump into him at some point."

"Hmm. Yes, I suppose that's a possibility. Is it a problem?"

"The thing is, if I meet him for the first time, I want it to be with you, Jowd. I think I'm ready."

"Alright, I'll arrange something."

The next day, Jowd and Alma head to a bar that evening. They quickly spot Yomiel sitting alone in the far corner. It was decided that bringing his fiancée was too risky.

"Hello, Yomiel."

Yomiel stands up, responding with a curt nod. "Hello, Detective. It's good to see you."

"Yes, it's good to see you too. How's life treating you out of prison?"

"It's not easy, but I've got help." Yomiel turns his head slightly. "And you are..."

"Ah, yes, I do believe you already know my wife, don't you?"

"Uh..."

Ever since they came up to him, Alma has been lost in a trance, her thoughts tumbling around in a frantic whirlwind. Thick mud clogs her throat. Swallowing, she wipes her palms over her skirt before thrusting out a hand. "I'm Alma. It's nice to meet you."

Her words cut like a blade through the tension holding Yomiel in place. Shaking her hand, he responds, "Nice to meet you too. I'm Yomiel."

"So, I finally got to meet the man himself," Alma says, as they sit down. Her repeated swallows do little to moisten her mouth. It's really him, that man who took her life and hurt her family, but he isn't that man anymore. That twisted creature who sought to hurt and even kill others is long gone. "I've heard a lot about you from Jowd, and Sissel. I mean, your fiancée. Not the cat."

"I see."

"Well, I suppose I should get drinks for us. Is that okay with you, Alma?"

Seeing a hint of concern in Jowd's eyes, Alma responds with a smile. "Of course it is. A glass of white wine for me, please. Would you mind giving us a few minutes to speak alone?"

"Sure." Jowd's hand lingers on her shoulder before he walks away.

"You know everything, don't you." A statement, not a question.

"I do. Jowd told me about all of it. I know what you went through."

"Right." Yomiel clears his throat. "I really am so sorry for what I did to you and to everybody else. What I did was completely inexcusable."

Alma studies her interlaced fingers as they lay in her lap. "I know you're not that person anymore. What you went through was hell, wasn't it?"

"Yes. I was consumed by loneliness, by the desire for revenge. It transformed me. I could no longer see people for who they were. You and your little girl? Just tools for causing Jowd pain." Yomiel releases his breath in a soft whoosh. "I don't expect you to forgive me. If you want to tell me you hate me, well, I know I deserve it."

The laughter and animated chatter coming from the other tables provide such a sharp contrast to their serious conversation. While Alma's gaze roams over the other customers, she speaks. "I might have despised you for a while. The truth made me sick. I was hurt and angry, I tried to understand why you would have done it, and then I met your fiancée."

"You've been a good friend to Sissel. I was surprised to hear she had become friends with you."

Alma turns her full attention back to Yomiel. "I didn't seek her out on purpose. We bumped into each other outside the prison and I learned her name. I wanted to get to know her, maybe even hear more about you. I wasn't using her or anything. She's a fantastic woman and I can see why you love her so much."

"Yes, I really do."

"You're lucky to have each other. I hope you'll have a happy future together."

"Thank you."

"Anyway." Alma rests her chin in one hand. "I wanted to meet you in person. I think... I wanted to dispel that image of a murderous monster. To see you for the person you are now."

Yomiel's cheek twitches, his gaze remaining level with hers.

"I know you're not that monster anymore and you will never hurt my family again. I don't bear a grudge against you and I don't hate you either."

"I see." Yomiel bows his head, the words oozing from his lips like thick syrup. "You really are a very kind woman."

Amidst the conversation's lull, the rowdy noises filling the pub become painstakingly clear. "Well then, might as well get Jowd back over here." Alma seeks out Jowd, signalling to him with a wave.

Jowd joins them, setting down the drinks. "Well then, how did it go?"

"We had a pleasant conversation. I told him I have no hard feelings."

"That's good to hear. You were a bit nervous, weren't you, Yomiel?"

"Yes." Yomiel's head moves in an almost imperceptible nod. "I'm not sure I deserve so much kindness." Shifting his gaze to Alma, he continues. "I'm so grateful that you were there for Sissel also. My imprisonment was hard on her but now it's all over and we can look forward to our future together."

"Well then." Jowd raises his glass. "Here's to us all not being dead or in prison."

With a roll of her eyes, Alma lifts her glass as does Yomiel, their glasses meeting in midair with a soft clink. They engage in conversation, the words falling from their lips ever so casually. Any resulting moments of discomfort are entirely on Jowd. Before they realise it, the glasses are empty and it's time to go. Bidding farewell, they set off back to their respective homes.

"Well, how did that feel?" Jowd asks on the way home.

"It was alright." Alma is relaxed, her body filling the contours of the car seat. "I was so nervous about meeting him but in the end, it all went fine. I can finally let go of all those feelings. It's like a huge weight off my mind."

"Is that so? I'm glad. The ten years are all behind us at last."

"Yeah."

Pulling the car into the driveway of their home, Jowd cuts the engine. Alma leaves the car and goes round to meet Jowd. Snaking her arms around his waist, she sinks against his chest, clasped in his strong embrace.

"I really do love you so much." Alma turns her head up.

Jowd kisses her on the lips. "And I love you too."

As they approach their front door, it swings open, revealing their smiling daughter. Sissel weaves around her legs, mewing. "Welcome back, Mom, Dad." With those words, Kamila steps aside, allowing them to enter together.

#ghost trick #ghost swap

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soldouthaz · 3 years

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sarah!! hellooo you, ris and rori are like my favourites (and i asked this question to them too) how do you view grief and shame? i'm currently trying to process both and keep seeing the emotions in a different light every day. no pressure if you don't want to answer! i hope you are well

ahh hey!!! that’s so sweet! I’m gonna put just a slight tw // grief here for anyone who may need it, and I’ll do my best to answer your question under the cut!!

I'm not totally sure if you’re asking me just my thoughts on them in general or how to actually deal with those things, so I'm just gonna ramble for a sec and you can feel free to tell me it’s not what you’re looking for or just take what resonates!

so grief and shame are both pretty heavy topics in my opinion, and my go-to with heaviness is usually to break it down into easier parts to deal with until I'm able to step back and look at the whole picture if that makes sense. ‘little griefs’ if you will ;).

you asked how I view it in general though, so I'll answer that first! my own personal trauma response isn’t the typical fight or flight, and most people don’t realize that a big response to trauma is also to freeze -- meaning you don’t ever really process what’s happening and it sits on your shoulders for too long, creating painful triggers and a hyper sensitivity that could have drastic, lasting effects on how you live your daily life. both grief and shame, in my opinion, are necessary (absolutely not fun, but necessary) to processing that trauma in a healthy way and being able to not forget, but heal from it and continue living your life.

like you said, they’re both incredibly complicated emotions that impact everyone differently, so there’s no one way to experience them! especially at this time in the world everything just feels kind of weird and out of touch (in my opinion!) and the only way I've gotten through it is to take it in bite-sized chunks like I mentioned earlier -- when one thing is bad in our lives we tend to take on a negative view of everything being bad, and often times that’s not the case! I'm not going to preach optimism here because sometimes it’s really, really difficult to be optimistic and that’s fine too.

my advice would be to first and foremost let yourself feel - whether that’s anger, sadness, anything - and then ask yourself what the next step is or how you can make the situation better/easier on yourself. I've adopted that way of thinking the last couple of years and I can’t explain how much it’s helped me. but don’t rush yourself, and listen to your own cues! and, contrary to popular belief, I've found that distractions help too (so long as you eventually get a chance to process the trauma, even if in small increments!) so try to find outlets you can use like writing, reading, or getting involved in a fandom or interest as a way of passing time as well! (one direction helped me immensely and are part of the reason I was able to get through some difficult times in my life as well!).

anyway, I'm rambling but grief and shame go hand in hand, and they’re normal feelings that, on some level, are part of everyday life. they’re big and scary sometimes but the most important thing is that you take them at your own pace and capacity. each and every feeling you have is valid, and I guarantee there are a lot of other people out there right now who are experiencing the same thing and asking the same questions. I'd be happy to link you to some resources for dealing with them if you’d like!

just in case it might help, here are a few tips I learned over the years to help myself cope that might help you as well! :

1. take a step back from yourself when you’re feeling upset, and instead of saying ‘I'm angry’ or ‘I'm anxious’, try to separate for a moment and take on the mindset of ‘I'm feeling ____, why am I feeling this way, and what can I do to improve it?’ this will help keep you centered, and improves your internal locus of control!

2. noise releases anxiety and movement releases trauma, so if you’re feeling either of those and you’re able to, feel free to do either! sing or hum or yell and scream, or try dancing horribly to your favorite music and see if you feel more relaxed afterward.

3. sometimes meditation can be overwhelming if you’re already anxious, so if that hasn’t worked for you in the past, you can also try emotion freedom technique tapping, or EFT tapping. a quick google search will show you how to do it, and if you experience lots of anxiousness or anything along the lines of ADHD etc, you may find it much more beneficial and you aren’t required to be completely quiet or still to do so!

4. and the last thing that helped me immensely was getting it out of me -- by that I mean any way of releasing how I was feeling! so think talking to someone you trust or that has experienced the same things, seeing a therapist, or journaling! this one just depends on how comfortable you are with sharing :) I love these methods in particular because most times you end up finding out things about how you feel that you didn’t even know you felt!

tl;dr:

grief and shame are very normal and never much fun to deal with, but they’re necessary for healing from trauma and processing it in a healthy way. the fact that you’re even thinking about them is wonderful and means you’re halfway there already! the best thing you can do is just try not to freeze up and hold all of that on your shoulders because it’s definitely not something you have to do alone.

please feel free to reach out again if there’s any way I can help or any other advice I can try to give! I hope at least some of this resonates with you! :)))) best of luck with everything and I hope you’re well! <3

#tw // grief #ask #about me #advice

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fandom-necromancer · 4 years

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929. Now I know where half my wardrobe went.

This story was prompted by a lovely anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

Nines was anxious to begin. In front of him lay several wooden planks of various sizes, cardboard-boxes, tubes of glue and buckets of paint. He didn’t quite know how to begin; he had only bought what several websites suggested and had returned home. Killing time really wasn’t his strong suit. He didn’t know how long he stood there as a message came in. What r u doing tin-can? Gavin laid stretched out on his sofa, head hanging over the edge stretching his neck tense from work and bad posture. He held his phone in front of his face in a position that could as well be yoga. Enjoying my vacation in piece and silence, Nines send back, picking up a plank trying to “see” something in it like the articles had described. Aw, come on, what did I disturb that has you this pissed? Gavin grinned at the screen. It would be fun to get to know a more personal side of the toaster. What had him so frustrated? I’m trying to find a hobby, as you instructed me. A hobby different to making fun of you. Nines laid the plank down. There had to be easier ways. He grabbed the cardboard and stared at it with his best interrogation face. Oh, baby’s first hobby? Can I come over? Gavin didn’t want to miss Nines stumbling into humanity at any cost. For what reason? The android put down the cardboard too. Gavin coming over was something he wanted to avoid. Not to get it wrong, he liked the guy. It was pleasant to work with him and he actually was a nice conversationalist once he had completed his Gavin-English dictionary. But having him over to watch him fail a seemingly easy task wasn’t how he had planned his day to go. Hey, I’m human, I have hobbies. Maybe I can help you. Gavin wasn’t dumb, he realised the RK900 wanted his distance. But by God, if Gavin wasn’t a stubborn pain in the ass. And on top of that all: bored. Fine. Gavin had nearly texted an enthusiastic “hell yeah!” but stopped himself rolling off the sofa and very pointedly not run, just hurry a little, to his room to find something decent to wear.

He arrived at Nines apartment, knocking on the door and having it opened to the android out of his Cyberlife jacket. It was a bit taken aback by that; he had never seen him without it in his life. Maybe that was his idea of wearing something comfortable at home, who would know. ‘Err… Hi!’, Gavin greeted him and was let in with a simple ‘Detective.’ ‘Hey, you know we are not at work, you can just call me Gav- woah.’ Nines had closed the door behind him, leaving him to look into the living room full of wooden planks and other bulky material as well as tools. ‘Hey, toaster, you trying to build all the furniture for someone?’ ‘… No. Is it too much?’ ‘Depending what you want to do with it’, Gavin shrugged, kicked off his shoes to the side of the hallway and hung up his jacket. ‘If you want to re-furniture my brother’s mansion, then it would do I guess.’ ‘I planned on experimenting with basic woodwork and model making’, Nines explained a bit shy. ‘I don’t have anything else to do during the vacation you pressed on me.’ ‘Hey, don’t make me look like I’m the bad guy here. I’m sure Fowler won’t complain having you at the precinct without me.’ ‘He does complain. I went to work this morning and he told me to “go find a hobby”. You said the same to me, so I wanted to at least give it a try.’ ‘You actually went to- you know, never mind. What do you want to build?’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Well that’s unfortunate’, Gavin laughed. ‘You should have some idea.’ Nines sighed. He had known it would end in the man making fun of him. ‘If you came here just to see me fail, I would advise you to leave.’ Gavin looked at him startled. ‘Hey, Nines, I came here to help you. I mean it. Sorry that I laughed. It’s just… You prepared to build the Cyberlife tower life-sized with this and have no idea what to do. Normally people start smaller.’

Nines looked at the man marvelling at his mindless creativity. ‘That’s actually a good idea’, he nodded and didn’t pay the frowning human so much as a glance as he started picking up pieces of wood again. ‘What have I-‘ ‘Take a seat, Det- Gavin.’

It was fascinating seeing Nines work away with robotic speed and precision on a wooden block, until a few hours later he had completed a perfect replica of the Cyberlife tower. ‘Wow, that’s super impressive, Nines’, Gavin cheered. ‘It looks exactly like the real thing!’ The android smiled. Whether it was from the [mission successful] blinking in his HUD or from the praise he didn’t know. ‘And what are you going to do next?’, Gavin asked him. To Nines it was clear as day. ‘Why refurnishing your brother’s mansion when you can build a whole city?’

Nines had worked the whole day on his project and recreated belle-island. Gavin had sat there with him the whole time, just watching him and cheering whenever a building or tree was added to the bunch. One time he had ordered take-out and ate it and Nines hadn’t even batted an eye at it. Afterwards he had helped, gluing the buildings to a plate the android had cut to without doubt resemble the exact soil conditions over there. The man had left him only late in the night yawning and thanking him he had been allowed to come over. Nines accepted it, knowing well he should have been the one thanking him.

The next days he tried out a lot of different hobbies. Later, when he had made his mind up about how much he liked the different activities, he would continue with his projects. Gavin had only been there for some days and activities, enjoying his vacation only to come over when he was bored. Nines had begun caring after plants he had bought. He started cross-stitching. He took up cooking on a day Gavin was over for the practical reason of having someone to taste it only of course. He had tried puzzles, singing and foreign language learning. When it had come to magic tricks Gavin had been there as an audience for him. The last activities on his list were bread baking and pottery.

Baking was something simple, without much reward for him except for a nice smell. So it was on the same day he unpacked clay and set to work on a simple vase. He started up the electric potter’s wheel and started, fascinated at how the clay changed under pressure. Until he experimented too much with pressure and speed and the whole thing came suddenly flying at him landing across his chest. So much for pottery…

Frustrated he had been so stubbornly determined on trying it the human way without any program-guidance, he stood up to change into a clean turtleneck and wash the one he wore. Interestingly enough his wardrobe was empty. His spare upper-body clothes gone. Nines cocked his head to the side and closed it again. Had he left his spare pair at work? He didn’t care too much about it, as he went to the bathroom and pulled off his shirt to wash the clay away. He could always order new ones from Cyberlife as they had been produced in advance for the army he was supposed to become. When there were two-hundred-thousand jackets with his number on it, he wouldn’t shed any tears over it.

He put more interest in evaluating his experimentations. He disliked pottery. Cross-stitching was relaxing but felt inefficient to him. Caring for plants was too easy. At least with the plants he had bought. Puzzles were too little of a challenge too. Same with learning a new language, as he always could just download another patch. What he really liked had been cooking and building the model city. And doing the magic tricks with Gavin. What was the connection between them? Maybe if he found one, he could discover new hobbies with that trait more easily. He had liked Gavin’s reaction to his card and coin tricks. That was also true with cooking. And if he was honest with himself that too was the case with the model city. With a bit of shock, he realised that maybe he didn’t like these hobbies more than the others. Maybe he just liked that he had company. No that couldn’t be. That was so irrational. That wasn’t like him at all. But it was true.

He was faster out of the door that he could realise he had forgotten to fetch his jacket on the way out. A short drive through town he ended up in front of Gavin’s apartment hacking his lock to be let in. He had to tell him this weird development and needed a human to explain it. As far as he knew a hobby couldn’t be a person. He barged into the living room to face a terrified human wearing- ‘Is that my jacket?’ ‘I swear it’s not what it looks like!’, Gavin cried out, stumbling over the words. ‘Now I know where half of my wardrobe went’, Nines mused. ‘Wait, how does this look like?’ ‘Ahh, dunno, sorry! You can have it back!’ He scrambled off the sofa while pulling it off hurriedly. He finally got out of his Cyberlife jacket and had the seams of the turtleneck between his fingers as Nines gently put one hand on top of his with a pained look on his face. ‘Keep that on… please.’ ‘Err… okay. This is awkward as hell, sorry. Wait- half your wardrobe? I stole two things…’ ‘I don’t have to change. I don’t sweat. And my clothes never… They rarely get dirty.’ ‘Okay, we definitely have to go shopping someday’, Gavin uttered, still uncomfortable with being caught. Nines wanted to disagree, but then closed his mouth at the realisation that would mean he got time to spend with Gavin. So, he nodded. ‘Okay, after that weird start, what did you break into my home for anyways?’, Gavin asked. Nines straightened his back. ‘Is it possible for a hobby to be a person?’ The human laughed. ‘Heh, well, normal people would call that friendship or something, but… maybe? Why?’ ‘I tried out every hobby I had on my list. In the end I compared them all to find my favourite. I found out I had to add one.’ ‘Really? Then come on, tell me! What is it?’ ‘You.’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Ok focus this is a story about clothes and people wearing the clothes of their SO(s) and whatnot #instructions unclear googled human hobbies #Just so you know Gavin's hobby is Nines too.#And now to the today you learned: cleaning shirts doesn't work with polymer clay I still have a stain on my chill-shirt #looks like a damn tooth paste stain too #sometimes being an artist and a human disaster coincides so who cares

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amaya-chwan · 4 years

Text

Takeaways from Therapy Game: Restart Chapter 06

Ahhh, another month, another wonderful chapter of Therapy Game: Restart! 💖 It’s going to be longest series for this group since Therapy Game has 6 chapters, TG Play More has 3 chapters, and we’re going to be getting a 7th chapter for TGR (but not in next month’s Dear+) 🥰

Onto the takeaway (well, they’re summaries now! XD)! In this chapter:

WE HAVE COLOUR PAGES! 🎉 Hinohara-sensei’s colouring is just 👌👌

We start the chapter with Shizuma and Tatsumi walking the dogs (from the vet clinic, I assume) and Shizuma stops to look at the house listings displayed at the front of a real estate agency they’re walking past.

Tatsumi asks Shizuma if he’s looking for a new place/if his parents are forcing him out of the family home, to which Shizuma responds with “No, actually, I want to live with Minato.” 😍

While Shizuma shares his plan to make this home ready for whenever Minato wants to move in, Tatsumi tells him that because he’s so focused on his own goal (i.e. living in with Minato) he might be forcing this onto Minato. After Tatsumi’s questioning, Shizuma realises that Minato hasn’t actually said he wants to live with him, he’s just said, “I’ll think about it.” Tatsumi then goes on to say that there are a lot of factors to consider when trying to look for a place to live, and that it could be troublesome for Minato. Being the straightforward and good friend he is, Tatsumi outright says it could be a burden. It gives Shizuma something to think about now. 🥺🤔

They return to the clinic to find out that the director (Onodera), who has just come back from a business trip, is now taking holiday leave, which delays Shizuma and Tatsumi’s ability to gain some workplace experience and knowledge. This stresses out the nurses and Nakajou-sensei (I don’t remember too well, but I think she’s the head nurse or something? I’ll have to double check that later). Now I understand why the nurses act the way they do--they can’t have vet students who don’t take initiative, especially since their director seems to be away most of the time.

Nakajou-sensei decides Shizuma and Tatsumi will begin learning and conducting medical exams, mainly the easy ones such as giving vaccinations for now. Shizuma and Tatsumi seem to be excited at finally doing something other than chores, and the nurses show their support to our favourite vet student characters! 😭😭😭

Now over to Minato who is speaking with Mama at the bar. Mama is meeting with Minato to talk about preparing a photo album of the onee-sans to commemorate their 20th anniversary and asks Minato to take the photos! 🥳 While Mama is talking about the logistics of this special souvenir for her customers and patrons, Minato is scrolling through real estate websites looking for apartments. Mama catches on and assumes Minato hasn’t been listening. But he has, and says that with a project this large, he won’t finish it by the time the party comes around. Mama starts to get irritated since Minato keeps shutting down the idea, proposes that someone who has more time on their hands should do it, and his head is in the clouds. Mama asks him if has something more important on his plate than the bar’s anniversary, to which he says “Well... you could say that.” 😏

Back to Shizuma, who finishes work early. And while he had a great day, it’s made him exhausted. He resolves to study harder and learn much more. Sitting in his car, he calls Minato, who just so happens to be caring for his cherry blossom and making dinner. Shizuma smiles while Minato talks to him about making stir fry, using up the ingredients in his fridge, and asking Shizuma what seasoning to use (he says miso). 🌸

In between all of that, they talk about what happened to them today. We find out that Minato was “forced” by Mama to work on the project even though the schedule and timing is way too tight because Mama brought up the fact that Minato was under their care. Shizuma laughs, saying that’s something he definitely can’t refuse, while looking over at the housing pamphlets he has and worrying about whether he’s being too burdensome.

Minato begins eating and they have a cute couple banter that goes like:

Minato: Ahh, smells so good~ Shizuma-kun, you were right about choosing miso. Shizuma: *drooling over Minato’s food* When you asked me that, I started to get hungry... I want to eat too... Minato: No can do! This is my food~ Mmmmm, delicious!

Shizuma tells Minato that he feels much better after talking on the phone with him, and says how nice it would be if they could just live together.***

Shizuma realises he was being too forward about wanting to live together and says it was only an example, to which Minato says he doesn’t want that. Rather, he wants Shizuma to cook as well since it’d be impossible if he had to cook every day. 😘💝

Shizuma gives in and just straightforwardly tells Minato to live with him and to start looking at homes together. Minato is surprised by the amount of preparation Shizuma has done and says he still hasn’t decided on it yet. Ending the chapter on a cute note, Shizuma says “Then, please give me advice since you’re my senpai on living by himself.” ❤️💛

And that’s the end of this chapter! For those who’ve read this whole detailed summary, thank you for reading this far! 🥰

You may be wondering what the *** was for... Well, it’s for this chapter’s preview after the cut! (⚠️ Not super spoilery if you read the takeaways, but just to be safe!⚠️ )

Thank you again for reading~ 📢 As always, please support Hinohara-sensei by purchasing her books and CDs! 📢

I’ll see you all (probably) in July for the next edition of our takeaways! Hopefully I can work on translating some other Therapy Game related stuff for us to enjoy during the break between chapters! 🥰

And everyone, please continue to stay safe, practise good hand hygiene, social distance, and take care of yourselves and your families!

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becuztaelien · 4 years

Text

2| The Haircut

Part Two/?

1.8k Words, Warning: Highkey Smut ahead

“And you, babygirl… are going to tell me, tell me what you want?”

Now you had two options; either you could put up a fight and play hard to get-considering he did just make your job a hundred times harder-or you could allow yourself to be taken by him and since the latter is what usually happened you decided to go with the former. You weren’t going to let him sweet talk you, you weren’t going to let him get all cocky and get what he always wanted. Nope.

You smirked against his finger resting on your lips and removed your arms from around his neck bringing them up to push his finger on to his own lips and backed away from his embrace. He looked at you, confused, good, you thought, things were going well so far.

“Well… if I’m going to get what I want, I’m going to have to think about this for a bit.” You skipped to your shared bedroom hearing Jin pacing close behind you. This is going to be fun.

You stopped right at the door and turned around to face him. “And where do you think you’re going?”

“You didn’t want me to follow you?” he looked like a lost puppy and you could feel yourself slowly gaining control of the situation.

“Did I say I wanted you to follow me?”

“No…?”

“Then why are you here?” Jin scratched his head and turned on his heel, going back to the bathroom. When he was no longer in sight you strolled to your top drawer and pulled out his favourite black lingerie; he had bought it for you last Valentines and that was the only time you had worn it. You grinned at yourself, what an interesting turn of events, you thought as you stripped yourself of your jeans and loose top. Walking over to the full body mirror, you admired the way the lace hugged your body, exposing just the right amount to skin to make Jin go crazy but still remain completely unsatisfied. When you were happy with the way you looked, you grabbed the $3000 hair kit you had bought especially for him from the ‘Style Drawer’ as you liked to call it and headed for the bathroom. You peeked in and rolled your eyes, mentally face palming as you saw Jin admiring himself in the mirror of course… you thought and cleared your throat causing him to jump, he spun round and stared at you confusingly.

“J-jagi, I didn’t hear you… why are you hiding?” You smirked and disappeared heading to the kitchen, a minute later you appeared walking in casually holding a stool. You went up to the sink and placed the stool in front of the mirror bending down to lower it to the perfect height all the while ignoring Jin’s jaw dropped figure. Jin cleared his throat “Jagi… what are you-”

“Sit down.” You said ignoring him again. Jin stood still, his eyes frozen on your figure, it took him a second to realise what you had said and sat down on the stool looking at you through the mirror. “Since you ruined your hair, I want you to stay still and let me fix it, no whining no protesting and no complaining on how much time it takes.” You gave him a devilish smile “and then you’ll be forgiven.” You replaced your evil grin with an ironically angelic smile and Jin’s entire body slumped down as he sighed.

“But…” he was about to protest.

“No buts.” You said firmly.

“Not even yours?” he smirked and smacked it playfully, this cocky little…

“Especially not mine.” You said sternly and began opening the bag, spreading out your tools. “Hm… I could just give you above the eyebrow bangs, they were a definite success during YNWA… or we could experiment with curly bangs…” You began thinking about what you could out loud and only looked at Jin through the mirror for a second catching him staring at your butt. You smiled to yourself and placed your elbows on the sink shelf sticking your butt just enough to hear Jin sigh pursing his lips together and looking the other way, this was killing him. You snapped your fingers and muttered a low ‘ah ha’ before opening the sink and grabbing a hair brush. You thoroughly wet your hands along with the brush and ran it through Jin’s hair, soaking it. After you were done untangling it and making sure it was smooth you grabbed a comb and combed it straight down, looking at Jin’s face you noticed how red his cheeks had gotten, his hands were clenched into tight firsts and he couldn’t keep his eyes off your very proximate cleavage. You smirked as an idea popped into your head, “Ah let me just get the back.” You muttered getting closer to Jin so his face was literally centimetres away from your chest, you reached your arms forward and combed through the back of Jin’s hair feeling his hot breath on your exposed chest.

“Ja-jagi…” Jin choked out, his self-control dropping quickly.

“Yes?” You replied backing up and grabbing the hair gel, coating your fingers with it lightly.

“Don’t you think you’re being too… cruel?” Jin was giving you his puppy dog eyes accompanied with an adorable pout and you almost felt yourself give in before shaking your head lightly and resuming your work.

“How am I being cruel?” You asked innocently, applying the hair gel into his damp hair and plugging in the blow dryer.

“Ya! I know I made your job harder but you’re… you’re making my life harder right now…” he said the last part quietly, almost a mumble as he averted his eyes and looked down at the very obvious bulge growing in his pants.

“Good.” You said indifferently and Jin looked back up at you almost offended “Now you’ll think twice before chopping your bangs off.” You gave him an almost evil grin and turned on the blow-dryer, combing his hair in your desired style as it dried and the gel made sure it would stay that way. You went for a Fire meets BS&T meets Danger kind of look so one edge of the side parting you gave him was brushed and stuck to his head while the other, longer side, was puffy and in the air, revealing his beautiful forehead that ARMY so often requested. You had pretty much forgotten about what you were wearing and what your original intention to wear it even was, you were way too focused on your work and Jin knew this. The man had seen it a million times before; you were passionate and dedicated to your work and once you got into it, nothing could distract you, not even Jin’s hands that had moved and placed themselves on your waist pulling you closer with every second. You were just finishing up with a little bit of natural hairspray when you felt something hard press against your stomach. You dropped the spray bottle when you realised Jin had closed the space between you two and pressed your body flush against his, his strong arms were wrapped around your waist and his face was semi buried in your chest as he looked up at you through dark hooded eyes.

“You’re done.” He stated as a matter of fact, his voice had changed from the early whiny and pouty attitude to a now more authoritative and assertive tone making a chill run down your spine.

“I’m not.” You retorted trying to take control back but knowing fully well it wasn’t going to happen.

“You’re talking to me which means you aren’t focused and you never lose focus unless you’re done.” He held you tighter “so now it’s my turn.” He smirked, oh boy. Jin moved his head away and peaked into the mirror raising his eyebrows, clearly impressed by what you had done “hey handsome.” He said winking to himself and you rolled your eyes “why don’t you show this pretty lady what she really should have asked for huh?” he was wiggling his eyebrows at himself and you cringed, why was he like this? Why did you actually love him for being like this? Some questions were better off without answers. Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt Jin’s hand move from your waist down to your thighs and grip at them tightly “What are you thinking about hm?” he muttered softly before lifting you and standing up at the same time. You yelped at the sudden action and quickly wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I’m just thinking about…” you searched your thoughts quickly for some sort of rebuttal but the grin that appeared on his face was a clear indicator that he knew. He chuckled deeply and gave you a sultry look before walking towards his bedroom.

“ahh jagi...” he sighed, “when will you learn?”

“What exactly are you trying to teach me?” You returned his look challengingly with a subtle lip bite, why am I trying to make this worse for myself?

He laughed, visibly amused and you felt him quite literally throw you backwards on to the bed. It was unexpected and resulted in a small scream but before you knew it, he was slowly crawling over your half naked figure. His hand slowly travelled up your inner thigh and you could feel the chills all over your body. “Jin-” but you were cut off by his lips finding their way to yours. You softly moaned into the kiss when you felt his hand travelling up and flicking at your nipple. He pulled away only to open his mouth which caused you to do the same. His tongue met yours as he began overlapping around it and softly pulling back, biting your lip softly in the process. All the while, his fingers had been gently playing with your now hardened nipples. “Ah~ Jin… I want you.” You couldn’t help but moan out. He chuckled knowing your chest was your weak spot, but he wasn’t going to give it to you so easily; you had toyed with him and now it was his turn.

“You’re going to have to be a bit more specific baby.” His voice was laced with so much seduction, it was almost like a drug. You knew what he was doing and you knew what he wanted to hear. Moving your hands to his face, you forgot about your pride and looked at him desperately.

“Touch me... please~” You replied with the straightest face you could possibly muster up given the circumstances. Jin didn’t need telling twice, he reached behind you to undo the hook holding your entire lingerie piece together before moving his hand under the soft material. With each second, he got closer and closer to where you wanted him but stopped just before resulting in a frustrated whine from you.

“Touch you where princess?” he smirked, clearly enjoying himself. You placed a hand over his and dragged it until it was right over your pussy; his fingers got wet immediately.

“Here, touch me here.” you responded boldly.

PART TWOOOOOOOO iz hereeeeee. lmao again, sorry to all y'all horny folks out there for the cliffhanger. I’m actually debating writing a part three cuz it’ll literally just be smut lol so like, lemme know if y’all actually want a part three or if I should just leave it to y’alls nasty imagination -ASH

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shibereshu · 4 years

Text

“and they were in quarantine” [1]

Cao Yuchen // ‘OMG They were quarantined together’ AU

It was a bright warm day in March, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Your stomach growled, asking you for food, so you tried to finish your report as fast as possible and run to the interns’ coordinator’s office. He always gave you the longest tasks, since you were the one with a better understanding of English among the interns.

When you decided to spend a year gaining working experience abroad, you thought it would be the complete opposite, and that they would be a bit less demanding regarding your situation, but it didn’t turn out that way. Nevertheless, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were… one of the biggest entertainment companies in China had approved your application, and you were surrounded by the best professionals in your field, so you were really happy and thankful for the opportunity.

Your superior greeted you with a smile and glanced at the report with approval.

“(Y/N)! You always hand in the best work, thank you! You haven’t eaten yet, right? Go ahead, join the other interns, you can finish the rest after your meal.”

“Thank you, mister.” You left the room with a bow and walked to the canteen, where your fellow interns where already enjoying the menu of the day.

“Oh! (Y/N)! Are you finally done with the report?” your friend Yifei mumbled, gulping down a big scoop of rice.

“Don’t do that, Yifei, you are going to choke!” the boy sitting next to her, Jiyang, exclaimed, while giving her a look of disapprovement.

Yifei smacked the back of his head, making him drop his chopsticks and open his mouth to complain about her. You always spent your meal break with these two dorks, and you couldn’t help but find funny how they would keep teasing each other. However, after you finally sat down beside them with your tray full of food, Jiyang’s attention quickly shifted to you, and he began asking you about your day while trying to share some of his food with you and laughing at things you said he found funny for no reason at all.

You had to admit, the way he acted towards you was kind of cute, and any other girl would probably fall helplessly to his charms. He was really considerate, always worrying about your health and mood. This was obvious, and you weren’t the only one who had noticed; Yifei usually teased you on your way back home, and you knew what the giggles and looks of other workers at the corporation meant. But you only felt pity for the boy, nothing more. You were a busy girl, making a big effort to live and learn as much as possible in this foreign country, you were too busy to even think about going out with a boy!

You tried to turn him down as politely as you could, and you finished your meal and rushed towards your office, thinking about the big amount of papers you still had to fill before finally leaving the place.

As lost as you were in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the person running towards the elevator you had stepped in, until the doors were about to close and their arm stretched out trying to avoid it.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” you blurted, pushing quickly the button that would prevent the doors from closing, while you kept apologising to the person, “I didn’t see you coming! I zoned out and… Did you get hurt?” You finally looked up, and left out a sigh of relief as you recognised the boy standing in front of you: Cao Yuchen, an artist under the company, who you’d met on your first week there, “Oh! Cao Yuchen! I was so worried… I thought I’d hurt one of my superiors.”

“Hey, (Y/N), did you forget that I’m also your superior here?” the young man looked at you with a frown between his brows, “I think one of my ligaments teared, ouch!” his face turned into one of someone in pain, and he held his arm carefully trying not to apply too much pressure onto it.

“Wh… what?? Does it really hurt that much? Let me see” you tried to reach his arm but he turned away, hiding his face and his arm from you.

“Ahh… I think they will have to cut my arm off”

You froze for a moment, feeling the panic rise, but then noticed his shoulders shivering and heard a quiet giggle, signals that he was just acting and wasn’t actually feeling any pain at all.

“Hey Cao Yuchen! Don’t mess up with me, you bastard!” you threw your hands at him and punched him repeatedly on his arm, “Teared ligament, yeah sure, I can’t believe I almost fell for it”

By then, Yuchen was already laughing out loud. He rested his hands on your shoulders, trying to push you away from him.

“You totally fell for it,” another laugh came out from his lips as he continued speaking, “Ah, (Y/N), don’t you think my acting skills just keep improving each day? That was great, not going to lie.”

“I can’t stand you, I swear”

“Hey, be more respectful, I am older than you and also in a higher position here, so be polite” his mocking tone didn’t match the seriousness that filled his expression again. He was really good at controlling his facial expressions, you had to give him that.

“Okay, mister, I’m sorry. But don’t make fun of me ever again, or do I have to remind you that you still owe me?”

“Ugh… do you already know what you want me to do so that we’re even? I am tired of being indebted to you.”

“No, sorry, I still have to think about it for a bit longer.”

The elevator doors opened and Yuchen stepped out of it. “Okay, (Y/N), but don’t take too long or you’ll miss the chance. Bye now!”

You looked at the boy walking away while the doors closed again and the elevator resumed his way up. Your mind forgot about the incident and went back to your tasks as soon as you arrived the floor your office was in. You stretched your limbs, knowing you would have to sit on your desk for at least six more hours before you could leave.

A few hours later, you were finally done with all of the paperwork, and it was almost time for the working hours to end. You walked around the lobby, waiting for Yifei, who you always walked home with. Not much longer after that, you saw your friend saying goodbye to a coworker and making her way to you.

“(Y/N), I’m so tired… let’s hurry up, I have to stop at the convenience store before heading home.”

“I should buy a few things too… I think I ran out of bread.”

“Ah! I almost forgot,” Yifei’s eyes lit up as she said that, “I ran across Cao Yuchen when I was going to the restroom earlier today, that boy gets more handsome every day, I swear!”

“Why do you like him so much,” you rolled your eyes, remembering what had happened in the elevator, “he’s just like any other Chinese actor these days.”

“He’s way more friendly than any other actor I’ve met, and I’ve worked at four different entertainment companies, so I would know! Anyway, aren’t you friends with him or something? Wasn’t he the one you had to help that day?”

“Well… I’d say we are rather acquaintances. I helped him and now he owes me one, but that’s it. I don’t really see him that often.” You shrugged. “That’s because you are always busy! You don’t even hang out with me,” you friend pointed at you, in a blaming way, “Next week the spring sale will start, and we are going to go shopping together, no excuses allowed”. “Okay, okay, we will.” You arrived at the street where you had to part ways, so you hugged before saying goodbye to each other and walked away, speeding up your pace to arrive as soon as possible. There was nothing else you longed for more than your bed.

Finally home, you put your bag and papers aside and made yourself something to eat before throwing yourself on your mattress. You still had to finish a few things before going to sleep, but it was quite early and a couple of minutes of relax wouldn’t hurt anyone. Just when you had started drifting into your mind again, a loud banging noise, made your heart skip a beat and your head lift from your soft pillow.

What is that? you thought to yourself, looking around completely disoriented.

Another loud bang followed the first one, so you go on your feet and walked towards the front door, trying to find the source of the loud impacts. As you got closer to it, the noise grew louder and louder, so you decided to open the door and take a look outside. Before your apartment, a short corridor led to a few other doors and the narrow stairs you had to walk up and down every single day. The corridor was usually empty, but that day a grown up man wearing a pair of overalls and a helmet stood in the middle of it, banging a big hammer against the door of one of the other properties.

“M… Mister,” you realised you had been standing there for a few seconds, staring right at the man without having said anything, so you tried to regain composure and thought the best thing to do next would be to ask him directly what was going on, “I kept hearing a banging noise, and was wondering…” you didn’t know how to ask him, but it didn’t matter anyway, because the moment he heard you, he dropped his hammer and looked at you just as if he was looking at a ghost.

“Young girl! What the hell are you still doing here! Did nobody tell you to leave?”

“What… sorry?” You had no idea what he meant, but you noticed you were the only one who had come out looking for the source of noise. Where you also the only one there apart from the builder?

“This whole floor is going to be demolished! A young rich man has bought the whole building and wants to turn all of this into a single apartment. Didn’t your landlord notify you? Everyone has left in the last week!” The man took his helmet off and run a hand through his greasy hair, worried about you, “Maybe you didn’t understand what was going on, since you look like a foreigner… Hold on, I will tell my boys to stop for today, but we will have to continue tomorrow, so I’m afraid you will have to leave as soon as possible. You can spend the night here, but you will have to be gone by tomorrow morning. You have somewhere else to go, right?” he gave you a concerned look, and looked for his phone so that he could notify the rest of the building team to stop what they were doing.

You looked at him with a blank expression, and went over his words again and again in your head, trying to make sense of the situation. I have to leave? your heart beating faster and faster at the thought, Where could I go… I have no one to call.

Yifei! Your friend would surely host you for a few days, right? You had gotten pretty close since you arrived there. You thanked the man for the information and concern and rushed back into your apartment (no longer yours) to call your friend. You decided to check for a message of your landlord first, and you realised an email of hers from a week before had been directed to your spam folder, so you hadn’t noticed that you had received it. However, you didn’t have much time to complain about it, you knew you had to act fast and focus on finding a place to stay for the following days.

Luckily, your friend picked up her phone pretty quickly.

“Yifei! Oh Yifei, I’m so glad you picked up!” you heard your voice crack and tried to control your agitated breathing, “Something terrible has just happened to me.”

“(Y/N), are you okay? What’s going on?” You could hear a lot of noise in the room your friend was in, but then she walked away, probably into another emptier room, and you could hear her much clearer after that, “where are you right now?”

“I’m at my apartment- well, what used to be my apartment… Yifei, they kicked me out!”

“What?! So suddenly!?” Yifei couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I got an email a week ago, but I didn’t see it and now I have to leave, and I have nowhere to go, and- What am I going to do, Yifei?”

“Okay, okay, listen, breathe in, breathe out…” You followed her words and tried to calm down, without much effectiveness, “Do you know anyone with a free room?”

“I don’t… But Yifei, can I stay at your place? It would only be for a day or two, until I find somewhere else! There’s no way I find a free room before tomorrow!” A thousand thoughts filled your mind, and you tried to think of any other solution, maybe staying at a hotel or guest house, but that would be way too expensive, and you needed the money to find a new place…

“Oh, (Y/N), I’m so so so sorry… I live with my parents, and my grandparents are also staying here right now… and if we also count my siblings… I am so sorry (Y/N), we really don’t have room for another person… Hey, turn that volume down! I’m trying to help a friend here!” the last words were screamed to someone else on that side of the phone call. You started losing hope, and saw yourself spending the following nights at a 24h store or café. Get yourself together, (Y/N)! There must be someone else…

Yifei kept talking on the phone, “What about Jiyang? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind hosting you for a couple of days! You know he would do anything for you!”

“Oh no, there’s no way I’m asking him… Can you even imagine how awkward that would be?! And I wouldn’t feel good knowing I’m taking advantage of him that way…”

“But who else can we ask then? Wait, I have a friend who lives in a rather big house, she has a son, but if I ask her she may-“

“Yuchen!” You suddenly stood up and screamed his name. Of course! He lived in a really big house, and he wouldn’t say no, since you helped him before and he had promised to help you once too, so that it would be fair.

“Yuchen? Wait… Cao Yuchen?! No no no no, are you crazy? You don’t know him well! How can a woman stay at the house of a stranger like that? He’s famous but that doesn’t mean he is a good man, who knows how he lives behind scenes and-“ Yifei kept ranting and ranting but you had already made a decision.

“Listen, you yourself said he was a nice man, and he owes me, so it’s not like I’m asking for too much! His house is huge, too, he won’t even have to look at me twice, and it’s only for one or two days and only for sleeping… it will be fine! I won’t disturb him.”

“But what if… what if he’s a pervert or something.”

“I’m not a kid, Yifei, I will make sure I can lock the room or whatever... bye now, I’m going to text him.”

“(Y/N) are you sure about this… I-“

You hung up on your friend, reminding yourself to apologise to her the next day and thank her for caring so much about your safety. A part of you also thought that this was a really bad idea and that many things could go wrong, but you were desperate. Furthermore, he joked around a lot, but in the couple of months that you’d been working at the company, you’d also noticed that Yuchen was a really nice guy overall, he even had a pet (the cutest dog) and people who cleaned his house for him, it wasn’t as if you would be trapped in a room all alone with him for weeks…

Reassuring yourself, you opened the chat app and wrote him about the situation. After a few minutes filled with stress and anticipation, your screen lit up, showing a new message from Yuchen:

Cao Yuchen [20:17]: Of course! I can’t believe you have to go through this! We can come tomorrow after work together, so don’t worry anymore about it. Just make sure your shoes are clean ;)

You took your pillow and pushed your face against it, before letting out a loud groan. Okay, (Y/N), things will work out you thought to yourself Just hold on for a bit, just for a few days, and everything will go back to normal… Yes it will…

#cao yuchen #quarantine au #quarantine scenario #slice of life #cao yuchen scenario #the untamed boys #TUBS #the untamed boys scenario #the untamed #CPOP #曹煜辰 #the untamed boys scenarios #cao yuchen scenarios #admin isa

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stressedspidergirlsfandomblog · 4 years

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This is the first chapter to that random ass idea I had that got over 100 notes. Thanks to @ahh-fuck and @ruusverd-witcher annnd @shelikesgoodfics this actually got developed into more than a tumblr post. So, thanks. You can read here under the cut.

When Geralt had first left Kaer Morhen, he had had trouble believing everything he had been taught about humans was true. Times had been changing, and the general public had been turning on witchers. He had left, expecting to make some kind of fortune, a name for himself, and to live differently than he had lived in the keep. He had expected fear to stop dogging his footsteps. He had been wrong.

And yet, when he had killed his first monster, he had learned every single cynical training master had been correct. The girl had not thanked him, he had not done a noble deed, he had simply killed a rapist, and terrified normal people.

His life, as promised, had been full of miserable hardship, frequent wounds, and constant discomfort. It was near impossible to get a room in some towns, and yet in others he did just fine. He had some friends across the continent, at least until Blaviken. There, he had managed to turn himself into an enemy of most people, and with his distinctive white hair it wasn’t as if he was easy to hide. The alderman had turned on him, but without arresting or killing him at the very least.

Stregobor had made his life even worse, spreading disdain for witchers all because Geralt hadn’t wanted to help him. They had a history as it was, and it wasn’t the first time Stregobor had fucked him over. The sorcerer had almost gotten him killed all thanks to general maliciousness and a faulty hourglass. Geralt was sure if he ran into Stregobor again, it would end badly for him, again.

It was for the best that he didn’t have feelings, not truly. A few vestigial memories, much like the now-useless tendon some people still had in their forearms. A reflex, perhaps, was all that remained of what it meant to feel. And if that didn’t always feel exactly true, well, he would make it true. The trials had hurt, and he had no desire to find himself back at Kaer Morhen as a failed experiment where they would attempt more trials to try and eradicate any lingering feelings of his. Not that he desired or didn’t desire, he killed monsters for coin so he could stay alive. That was it, that was all there was. He meditated to maintain control of his mind and body, he slept when and where he safely could, he ate when he could, and whenever possible, found a hot bath.

Until Posada.

He had decided to check out a ‘doevil’ in the fields at the Edge of the World. Since no such things existed, he had been somewhat derisive with the local townsfolk looking to contract his services. While he had not been wrong, the creature had been anything but a ‘doevil’ of any kind, he had received more than he bargained for.

The creature had been a sylvan, and while they had tussled, the creature had meant him no real harm. While they had tried riddles, and scuffles, it had near ended bloody when Filavandrel and his ilk had debated killing the witcher and Jaskier. Who had, for some gods forsaken reason seen Geralt in a tavern and decided to attach himself to the witcher like a burr on a woolen blanket. It had not displeased Geralt, since he could not feel displeasure, but it did inconvenience him, because now he had another life to protect other than his own. And he did not need that kind of encumbrance.

Nothing he had done had worked to drive the bard away, which had made things even more difficult. Not aggravating, he would have no idea what aggravation felt like. Not speaking to the bard did nothing. Not sharing supplies did nothing. Not giving details of various monster hunts did nothing. So Geralt switched tactics. He tried describing how he got his scars in gruesome detail, or at least so he’d thought. The bard simply complained he was light on details like always and had asked more questions. Just how bad did the bite of a wyvern hurt? Was a crushed ankle truly that hard for a witcher to recover from? Utterly mystified, Geralt had given up on driving away his unwanted hanger-on.

Soon enough they were sharing whether Geralt wanted to or not. If ‘want’ was even the right word for it. He was not accustomed to having to share what little he had. It didn’t make any sense to him that the bard would add to his supplies, or share a nicer blanket, or anything else. But being devoid of feelings it would make sense he would not understand the actions of those who had them and acted on them. Jaskier noticed he was cold, and as such put their bedrolls together and spread his cloak around them both. Jaskier’s cloak was much better quality and trapped heat far better. While he could not conceive of a single reason for the bard to do this, it meant he was warmer and experienced less physical discomfort so he didn’t bother to protest.

No part of the witcher code said he had to suffer privation. Nothing he had been taught said he had to be uncomfortable. It was just that he probably would be. If Jaskier could afford better food than he could, there was no rule saying he could not eat some of it if it was offered to him. And so by that logic he was able to accept things from the bard without hesitation. To kill monsters he needed enough to eat, and he could not lose fingers or toes to frostbite and still maintain his skills as a swordsman.

Another thing that made no sense to him at all was Jaskier’s lack of fear of him and total acceptance that Geralt would rarely if ever speak to him. Sometimes he would share a one-word answer or question, but much more than that was frequently out of the question. After he had made the mistake of letting Jaskier listen in on him negotiating a contract, the bard had puffed up full of righteous indignation.

‘Why won’t you talk to me like that? Look at you! You can speak full sentences when you want to! I thought all of that up in Posada was because of the elves and the lady of the fields, I thought it was some kind of magic. Now I know you just choose to be taciturn and silent with me on purpose!’

It had been patently unfair and untrue, Geralt just had no idea what to say to him most of the time. His response was simply ‘then go.’ He would have liked to have said ‘if it bothers you so much, you can go. I never asked you along. I’ve never asked you to stay, I’ve never done anything to indicate I want you trailing me around like a lost pup. And yet here you are.’ He just couldn’t do it. Jaskier hadn’t asked a question. Hadn’t demanded an answer, had just yelled at him for a bit, panting, and left to get himself a drink at the tavern. Geralt had been surprised the bard had returned that night. He had reeked of sex and ale, making Geralt’s nose itch uncomfortably. It had been difficult to fall asleep after that. The woman the bard had chosen had a particularly noxious perfume, and with his heightened senses he could hardly breathe for the rest of the night.

When he had packed up his things that morning, he had not expected Jaskier to stay with him, walking beside Roach like always. They passed through Aedirn into Temeria, heading for Redania.

Geralt had no way to explain to Jaskier what his training had entailed. Young witchers were not supposed to speak out of turn. They were not supposed to speak at all unless spoken to. They should use the minimum number of words to answer any question. If the training master could figure out how to answer with fewer words, you took that many raps as punishment for wasting time. The only time you were allowed to speak first or add words was when negotiating. You needed the skills to get a fair price per the risk of the monster. While adding excessive words was still punished, the training over how to negotiate was far more comfortable.

They continued on together, and while fishing for a meal stumbled upon a djinn. Immediately Jaskier did something completely stupid. While Geralt might not know what it is to have feelings, he fully knows the difference between stupid and not stupid. Deciding to call upon the power of a trapped and angry air-spirit was the definition of stupid. Not to mention he’d seen another side of the usually pleasant bard that day. Wishing apoplexy and painful death and forced love onto others. It had been an oddly uncomfortable chain of events. Geralt would have wished for a meal, which was why they were fishing in the first place. If only Jaskier hadn’t ignored him and had left more slack on the line they would have been eating catfish, not fighting off a djinn amphora.

When Jaskier had suffered horrible damage to his throat as a result of his impetuousness and questionable decision-making skills, Geralt had dragged him onto Roach and pushed both himself and his horse to find help. It had been more or less worthless. Chireadan had not given him the details of what tangling with Yennefer would entail at all. Just as Geralt had found he did not want the bard to lose his voice. It made no sense and made his stomach coil in knots. What should he care? Perhaps it would save him the trouble of having to keep the other man alive as they travelled. He had told the half elf he would sit on a scorpion for Jaskier. And he had meant it, which left him wondering for hours what was wrong with him.

By the time he had reached the sorceress he had managed to figure out why he would do anything for Jaskier: It was his duty as a witcher. He was there to save the people, albeit usually for coin. Although Jaskier did often provide a roof over his head, a warm bath, body heat, and the use of his cloak and bedding. It might not be coin, but it was a creature comfort freely given. A transaction, and he was indebted to the man with the cornflower blue eyes.

When all was said and done in Rinde, the town half destroyed, Geralt had learned something in him that should have been dead wasn’t. After kissing Yennefer he knew he would never want to kiss anyone else the way he wanted to kiss her. Sex with her had been unlike anything he had ever experienced and he would have done anything to do it again. Dangerous for a witcher to want anything other than the meeting of basic needs. He had left Rinde with Jaskier in tow.

It had been easy to ditch the bard in Oxenfurt and take a contract down the Pontar. With winter coming he had no desire to spend the frozen months stranded in the cold and made his way back to Kaedwen and Kaer Morhen just as the first snows began to fall.

He had spent much of his time that winter in meditation, working to quell and destroy any lingering vestigial feelings inside of himself. He had considered cutting out his own tongue rather than risk it betraying him around his companions. The urge to talk, to tell Jaskier things was sometimes so overwhelming he would have, if he had had any idea of how to begin. The problem was that he shouldn’t want to tell Jaskier anything, he should just want him gone. He should not hope that they will meet up again when spring begins to thaw the land and make travel possible. In fact, he should be relieved that he will be only responsible for himself until their paths cross again.

It had been easier to justify his longing to see Yennefer again. Sex was a primal want, and the witcher mutations hadn’t removed those from him. While it wasn’t a need, and his own hand would suffice when necessary, it had been so different with her. He had slept with plenty of whores, but there was something different about not paying. About someone who looked you in the eyes and desired you. No shame, no disgust, no vague reek of fear, nothing to indicate any distaste with the act. Not that many whores minded him, he was polite, he didn’t ask for much, and as such he wasn’t treated too oddly. There were plenty of monsters who looked like normal men, and whores had plenty of experience with those. There were also monsters who were nothing to be afraid of, and the women were well aware Geralt was one of them. No one looking to hurt you would say things like ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’

He stopped in Vengerberg on his way to a contract in Guleta. He’d made his way through Kaedwen trying to decide what to do with himself. Several contracts, little to eat, and a few non-life-threatening injuries had perhaps clouded his judgement and he’d found himself looking up the sorceress. She’d welcomed him with open arms, a hot bath, and several warm meals. Not to mention she had let him share her bed. In that time he’d recovered and moved on to the contract further south. Then, unable to help himself, he’d gone back to her. If pressed for a reason he could not have said why.

She had notified him of contracts she heard of through her own networks, and he had taken them. Sometimes she was able to portal him there, much to his and Roach’s disgust. Neither one of them liked walking through those cold black holes into an abyss. He was usually left to make his own way back, but at least it saved him some time overall. He was also never required to make his way back, either. Sometimes he felt a bit like a housecat, allowed out to wander as it willed and if it came back, all the better. And if not, well, there were other cats.

She did not mind his silences, or his one-word answers and questions. She knew what he was thinking. She could have entire conversations with him without him ever having to open his mouth. Although, she did eventually stop answering him unless he verbalized a response to her. It was easier after a while, sharing books, talking about abusive rulers, that sort of thing. History was easy, too, because he could recite answers to her just like he might have back in his schooling at the temple in Ellander, or at the keep.

While he did not like when she lost her temper at him, he bore it. And eventually grew brave enough to push back. She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever really met before. The first time he’d snapped back he’d expected to find himself deposited in the middle of a frozen wasteland with no memory of how he’d gotten there. It hadn’t happened. They had bickered. He had left of his own free will, which surprised him, and then come back a few hours later feeling calmer. It had just been adrenaline, he told himself, not anger. Witchers couldn’t feel.

He ran into Jaskier on another contract, and was not unhappy to see the other man. They travelled together while he took down a bruxa and then he found himself drawn back to Vengerberg. No magic. His medallion wasn’t so much as twitching. No, he just felt like it would be alright to be there. A place where he had food, a roof, a warm place to sleep, and intellectual stimulation alongside the physical. It was as much a haven as he could have imagined while growing up. While Yennefer lost her temper and threw things around and was horrible at any kind of compromise, she never hit him. She never deliberately sought to hurt him or wound him. It was a strange kind of life. Until finally he moved on.

He faced down Foltest’s daughter and rescued her from being a striga. Afterwards, he recuperated in Ellander in Melitele’s temple until Jaskier came to find him. The bard had heard Geralt was injured and came to see him. It was good to see Jaskier again, and Geralt had found it was slightly easier to talk to the bard. Not as easy as he might like, but sometimes he was able to express a thought or two. Maybe get in a full sentence, and when he couldn’t, if he stared at the bard’s lute long enough Jaskier would sing or play and any need to have a conversation would be swept away by the music.

He had suffered some interesting events in Cintra, but he had six years before he would need to deal with the fallout of that particular incident. It had been nice to see Mousesack again. The druid was not shy of admitting their friendship and it had gotten him out of some miserable scrapes here and there. Not to mention it had stopped Calanthe from having his head decorating a pike on her castle walls. He sometimes wondered what Mousesack got out of their friendship.

He understood with Jaskier that the bard got inspiration for songs, and fame for being ‘trusted’ to travel with a witcher. And he got laid quite a bit for being brave enough to travel around with a monster. Geralt had greatly disliked when they had traveled to Oxenfurt and Jaskier had wanted to introduce Geralt to some of his friends. They had treated him much like they might treat a bear on a chain. A curiosity, a horrible beast trained to perform some tricks, but nothing of any value of its own beyond its strangeness. The bard had seemed mostly oblivious, and Geralt couldn’t fault him. It wasn’t as if he tried to keep up with the conversation or pay much attention. And he had absolutely refused to do any ‘sword tricks’ until they’d mostly given him up as a mute. It had been underwhelming.

The only good part of their time in Oxenfurt had been having access to the library. Geralt had never seen so many books, not since the sacking of the keep. But some of these books had nothing to do with anything important. It was odd to read a book of stories and fables without being asked to look for the truths behind them. He could just sit in a chair, in the library, and read as he pleased. It was somewhat like his time with Yennefer. Calm, peaceful, and given to quiet contemplation. Outside of the occasional drama and fuss. His presence had unsettled and upset some of the students and teachers. For others he had been a source of fascination. They had hounded him, trying to seek answers he couldn’t have given them even if he’d wanted to. With his enhanced hearing he had been well aware of how people thought of the ‘dumb albino witcher’ the bard had acquired. As if Geralt was a possession Jaskier could purchase.

This was perhaps why they had purged witchers of emotions. A normal man would be enraged at such treatment. A normal man would perhaps rise to the challenges, show off his skills and mastery, and would as such find himself swinging from the gallows. Geralt was not a normal man, and Geralt had bitten his tongue, and stayed silent, and crushed himself small. He left Oxenfurt with all of his belongings and his limbs firmly attached.

It was frustrating to be around people who didn’t think he had anything to offer other than brute force. While it wasn’t a new experience, he had gotten somewhat accustomed to Yennefer taking his intelligence for granted. She never over explained things or treated him like a simpleton. Overall Jaskier didn’t either, but at times he put Geralt’s teeth on edge. Finally, one night around the campfire he had snapped, “I’m not stupid.”

Fear had automatically swamped him. Or at least a conditioned fear response. He had frozen; eyes wide with horror that he had said anything out loud. No one had asked him his opinion and speaking out of turn was incredibly stupid. Surely now the bard would give in to the urge to cane him, and he would have to take it, rather than risk angry villagers tying him to a stake and burning him alive. Or hanging him after a solid beating. Perhaps they would draw and quarter him instead? No one would allow him to defend himself and let him escape consequences.

“I know you’re not,” Jaskier had frowned.

Geralt had been confused and lost, this was not how the exchange went. He spoke out of turn, and then he got hurt for it. Sometimes, when he knew the punishment was inevitable or just absolutely worth it, he would dig himself into a deeper hole. This was not one of those times, and he’d sat there by the fire, utterly dumbstruck.

“Why would you think I felt you were stupid?” Jaskier pressed, brows furrowing.

“You talk to me as if I haven’t lived more history than you’ve read,” Geralt tells him flatly, hoping that’s the end of the conversation. It’s the truth, at least. And he had been asked to share his reasoning. So he had. There could be no punishment for that, could there? Besides, the bard wasn’t strong enough to truly hurt him, was he? He wasn’t particularly delicate but he wasn’t strong like Vesemir. Or any of the other training masters. He could take whatever abuse the bard wanted to inflict on him.

“I’m sorry, you just don’t speak much, it’s hard to judge. I know you aren’t stupid, Geralt. I’ve never thought that. Not once. Perhaps a little thick about some specific things, but not in general. You’d be long dead if you weren’t incredibly intelligent. It’s just, when you aren’t responding any, I end up making more noise than I need to so that I can fill up the spaces.”

“Like now?”

“Yes,” Jaskier snorts. “Exactly like now. Can you forgive me?”

“For what?”

“Hurting your feelings?”

“Can’t hurt what isn’t there,” Geralt told him affably. “At least now I know why you make so much fuss over everything.”

“What?”

“To fill up the spaces.”

“Oh, good, I’m glad this is what we’ve come to understand. Not that you should talk more,” Jaskier had laughed. “Or that I wouldn’t mind conversation from you. I like when you add your insight. It’s very…”

“Insightful?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Jaskier had not known what to think when he had met Geralt. The other man had been nothing like what he’d expected a witcher to be. Geralt had chosen to help people when given the chance, often times for a pittance rather than what he should have been owed. When he heard of a contract but people threw stones at him, he frequently waited until nightfall and would consider taking the monster on regardless. It depended on how dangerous it was, and if he thought perhaps making his way back through later would result in a warmer welcome. He had expected a witcher to be devoid of all feeling, nearly inhuman, and while intelligent, intelligent in a predator way rather than a human way.

The more time he spent around the witcher, the more he learned everything he thought he knew about them was wrong. Or at least this particular one didn’t fit the mold. Geralt rarely discussed much of anything with him, unwilling to be drawn into conversations. He could be coaxed into a sentence here or there but seemed to prefer one word answers, no matter how simple they made him seem.

Jaskier hadn’t even known that Geralt could communicate in full sentences until he heard him negotiate a contract.

“Not enough coin.”

“What? That’s a hundred crowns!”

“For a pack of creatures you can’t even identify? You expect me to go out into the dark with no idea what I’m facing for barely enough coin to purchase a room in an inn and a bath?”

“You’re a damn witcher! It’s what you do! The coin should be a bonus, you murderous beasts were made to kill, so kill damnit! The monsters, not us!”

“I hardly see much difference right now,” Jaskier had interjected idly. He had ignored Geralt’s glare but hadn’t bothered to speak up again.

“I kill monsters for pay. If the pay is too low, I walk.”

“We don’t have more to give you!”

Geralt slapped the contract down on the table. “I can read. Here the offer says two hundred. Not one, but two. Double. So I am telling you, you honor the contract, I bring you the corpse as proof, you pay me, and we pretend none of this happened. I won’t stay on, I’ll move to the next town over and you needn’t see me again. Or, you continue to kick up a fuss, I walk away, perhaps someone you care about dies, and you wish you’d paid the fee you advertised.”

“Fine! You fucking bastard!” The man spat at Geralt’s feet.

“I will take half the coin up front, in case you decide to continue your lying streak. You will have, as collateral, my horse and whatever gear I don’t take with me on the hunt. When I get back, you will give me the other half of my pay, and I will collect my property and go. Are we clear?”

“I won’t shake hands with a mutant such as yourself. But aye, damnit, just as you said it will be.”

“I will be staying behind to watch that the witcher’s things don’t mysteriously vanish while he risks his life for an ungrateful pisspot such as yourself. And before you decide to test me, just remember I am quite famous. And many people are very fond of me across many kingdoms. If you think your life is unpleasant now, I can assuredly make it worse.” Jaskier smiled broadly, using a grin he had learned from one of his history teachers at Oxenfurt whenever a student fell asleep in class. That particular teacher had been rather fond of carrying a small riding crop with him for such occasions.

Geralt had been surprisingly sensitive to the moods of others, and initially Jaskier had chalked it up to his heightened senses and training. With more exposure to the witcher, he found it came out of genuine compassion -even if Geralt would insist it absolutely did not because he felt no such thing. He wasn’t capable of it. Which was utter bullshit. He had seen his friend happily entertaining the village children while the bard booked them a room at the inn. Not everyone approved of letting children near such a ‘vicious monster,’ but once they saw Jaskier with him and unharmed it tended to help. Not to mention the fact Jaskier was absolutely unafraid of touching Geralt, touching his things, drinking from his ale cup, or just in general being a horrific nuisance. The witcher always tolerated him with good grace. He had asked about it once.

“Why must you go out of your way to treat me like a pet?”

Jaskier had been utterly shocked Geralt had bothered to initiate a conversation much less speak in more than monosyllables. It had taken him a few minutes to gather his wits. “Think about it, Geralt. If they see me fussing with your hair in a way that clearly aggravates you and you don’t kill me, what are the odds you will kill their children?”

“Hm.”

As they got more used to each other, Jaskier was more able to read his moods and body language and knew when he wanted to ask a question. While sometimes he truly had no idea what Geralt could possibly want to know, he learned several ways of asking a question that allowed Geralt to respond and also ask his own. Frequently, his questions were about emotions and what it was like to have feelings. Usually more framed as an attempt to understand why Jaskier did things the way he did, and not in terms of himself. After all, as Geralt frequently reminded Jaskier, he had no feelings and couldn’t conceptualize them in terms of himself.

Another thing the bard had learned that he hated was Geralt was almost incapable of asking for help. He also wasn’t entirely aware of his own needs. While Geralt knew he had to eat, he also knew he could go several days without food and so when their packs were low he went without. Jaskier honestly hadn’t noticed, which horrified him in ways he couldn’t explain. He had noticed after they had split apart for a while and reunited in Verden. Geralt had been looking gaunt and moving a little more sluggish than usual and it had taken a ridiculous amount of effort for Jaskier to determine the source of the change.

The witcher had been emaciated and coming upon the brink of starvation. Jaskier had badgered him for hours before they had stopped to make camp and Geralt had stripped out of his armor and shirt. His skin had looked stretched across his bones like he was curing it for leather. The next major town they hit on their way to Brugge, Jaskier had spent exorbitant sums on food and a comfortable room for them to stay in while Geralt recovered. He was also learning that Geralt did not sleep properly often and was truly horrible at taking care of himself because he didn’t see a need to.

The bard had been almost tempted to drag Geralt back to Aedirn and Vengerberg to see if the witch would take him back simply because at least he’d been well fed and clean when he’d lived there.

“Don’t you feel hunger?”

“Yes.”

“So why not eat?”

“No coin.”

“I know you can hunt.”

“Too tired.”

“That’s not it, I know you. You can set snares just fine. Or grub up a tuber or some berries.”

“No good hunting.”

“Ah. You mean you worry the peasants you pass would go hungry if you killed a rabbit they might never catch?” Jaskier looked to the sky as if a voice would answer him in place of Geralt’s taciturn silence. “You have to eat, because you have to keep up your health to kill monsters so you can get more coin. When was the last time you bathed somewhere other than a stream or puddle?” The bard had worked more soap into his hands and carefully started washing more muck out of Geralt’s hair. “You wouldn’t ask Roach to carry you without feed for weeks, or grass to crop. She’d die. You also walk her so she doesn’t get worn out or lamed when you’ve ridden her a long ways. You have to take at least half as good care of yourself as you do the damned horse.” He had been somewhat amused to see the witcher falling asleep, apparently enjoying the sensation of fingers massaging his scalp. However, Jaskier’s tirade was far from finished. “Geralt!”

“Shh,” the witcher had rebuked him, closing his eyes, and leaning into the touch. Jaskier hadn’t had the heart to keep pressing him after that. He had instead watched as Geralt fell asleep in the bath, trusting Jaskier to finish cleaning his hair.

While overall he was fairly sure he was unsuccessful teaching Geralt to take better care of himself, he did notice problems earlier on. It was easier to notice when Geralt’s head started to droop just a bit, and to decide he was simply ‘too tired’ to go on and they needed to make camp or stop and eat before going on. He learned different signs for when Geralt was in pain, and how severe it was, and berated him soundly every time he let a wound fester without proper treatment. Occasionally they’d split apart for a few months only to run into each other again and Jaskier would take up dogging Geralt’s footsteps until the vagaries of fate pulled him away. He was always pleased to note, however, that Geralt never looked as bad as he had in Verden.

After Caingorn they had headed west. No real destination in mind. They were well enough supplied that they could afford to travel at a somewhat leisurely pace. Jaskier continued to pester Geralt and occasionally found himself wishing he hadn’t.

“And what would be so bad about all that?”

“A whipping.”

“Ah.” His voice had dried up in his throat. “But… when you were just children?”

“Discipline.”

“A whipping?”

“Children need discipline,” Geralt had repeated.

“I see. Of course. That… that quite makes sense. Of course. How could I be so silly?”

“What?” he’d demanded, deeply unsettled by Jaskier’s odd jabbering.

“I just, no one ever whipped us. Not that I’m aware of. Sure, a switch, or in the case of one professor a riding crop. But, Geralt. A whip?”

“Hard life,” he’d shrugged.

“I know,” Jaskier had said softly, knowing if he apologized Geralt wouldn’t understand. The gesture would be meaningless. Not unlike how Geralt had long since given up on shaking hands to seal contracts and now when people held their hands out he just stared blankly. Without humanity behind things, without feeling, without veracity, it was meaningless.

“What kind of monsters do you think you’d like to run into?”

“None,” Geralt grunted from Roach’s saddle, looking at him oddly.

“Well, then how will you gain enough coin for a hot meal and a nice bath?”

“Don’t need one.”

“Yes, but you like them. I know you. We’ve been friends long enough that I know what you like. I know your favorite meals, I know you like warm baths. I also happen to know how much you do enjoy a kip on an actual bed in a decent inn. Especially after weeks on the road.”

“Unnecessary,” Geralt argued back, uninterested in talking about this further. Jaskier knew if Geralt had wanted to keep talking he would have expanded the conversation some or tried to make some kind of eye contact rather than just bite off the shortest answers possible.

“If you weren’t a witcher, what would you want to be?”

“Can’t want,” Geralt had reminded him.

“Bullshit. Your body wants food, your mind wants rest, your cock wants sex, you know damn well what wanting is.

“Not very poetic,” Geralt had hummed, still refusing to engage. Then he’d eyed Jaskier slyly. “If not bard, what?” seeming almost pleased with his ability to turn the conversation away from himself.

“Oh, a viscount,” Jaskier said breezily, and laughed when Geralt choked in response. “Yes, I’d be Viscount Julian Alfred Pankratz de Lettenhove, and I would fall in love with a Duchess and sing songs for her as long as my heart desired.”

“Honest?” Geralt presses, eyeing him oddly and Jaskier knows what he’s really asking.

“You know how to speak in sentences, Geralt. Try it.”

The witcher had snorted at him in disgust, spit on the path and lightly kicked Roach into a faster walk.

“What you’re feeling right now is annoyance!” Jaskier called after him, slipping his lute from his back to his chest so he could walk and play.

Many miles later, Jaskier had slowly convinced Geralt to describe some physical sensations to find out if they matched up to human feelings. He had felt that perhaps if he could draw some parallels it would make Geralt less resistant to being honest with himself. Their conversations were stilted at best, but it fostered a different kind of trust between them, something fragile and new.

“Palms sweat, stomach hurts,” Geralt offered, eyes roving as he tried to think of other symptoms he could register that Jaskier might translate into a feeling. “Headache, sometimes. Nausea?”

“Perhaps spoiled clams?” the bard suggested and then laughed when he saw Geralt huff. “Could be nervous. I know when I’m about to do something I don’t want to do I frequently feel nauseous. Especially when I first started performing. Oh, I would sweat like a pig until I had the audience singing along with me. Or stamping their feet, or just… listening. When I knew they were my audience now, not just a collection of people. Or, when as a boy I knocked over a very expensive vase my mother was fond of. I had to tell her the truth of course, but all the same I wasn’t sure how she would react and my stomach twisted in knots.”

“Did not.”

“Of course not literally, I suppose I could say it like you did, it hurt, I was nauseous. But that’s not very poetic is it? And you seem to think I always have to wax poetical or I’m somehow doing something wrong when I talk. Then you get frustrated I won’t speak plainly for you. So please, Geralt, which would you prefer?”

“Quiet,” the witcher supplies without taking so much as a second to think.

Jaskier knew by now that the little look Geralt gave him out of the corner of his eye was his version of a smile. He still puffed himself up, knowing that was what Geralt wanted. “You asked!” he protests, happy to put on a small show if it will amuse his friend. “You started the conversation! You don’t get to decide to just end it! That’s not how this works! Didn’t they teach you manners at your witcher school?”

“No,” Geralt tells him after a moment’s pause and careful consideration. “Elbows off the table. Please and thank you,” he mimics and Jaskier knows he’s hearing an impression of long dead training masters. Geralt had surprised him many a time with his impersonations. With his enhanced hearing, Geralt was well able to mimic tone and vocal pattern when he felt like it. “Children are to be seen, not heard,” he continues, a small crease between his brows. “Chew with your mouth closed. Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.”

Jaskier isn’t sure if he should smile or not, he can hear the stuffiness in Geralt’s rumbly baritone. The precision of the words spoken in a way Geralt would never say them. He settles on a somewhat bland smile, a little unsettled. “That sounds rather miserable. So you learned table manners, perhaps, but not the very fine rules of conversation.”

Geralt glances at him, and Jaskier hates that he can tell the memories weren’t fond ones or even amusing ones. The witcher lifts a shoulder. “Yen helped some,” he offers.

“I’m sure she did,” Jaskier agrees quietly, rather than make a jibe at the sorceress’ expense. Usually it’s worth it to get Geralt riled up over it, but right now it seems unnecessarily cruel.

“You talk more,” Geralt adds, sensing the bard’s discomfiture and not sure of how to help.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” Jaskier smiles. He lightly squeezes Geralt’s shoulder and brushes his cheek before standing up to stretch. “Are you intending to walk us all the way to Poviss?”

“Contract,” Geralt reminds him firmly.

“So we will walk until we find one, and if it takes us until we cross the mountains and hit the coast, then so be it,” Jaskier sighed.

“Alright?”

“Of course, Geralt. Just tired. We’ve been walking for weeks without so much as a barn in sight. You darting awake at every noise in the night makes it a little hard to sleep.” Jaskier feels his heart break when he sees Geralt’s shoulders round. “I wouldn’t change anything about how we travel. At least not you and I. I would do anything I could to make people treat you kindlier. But, Geralt. I am so glad you’re alert and ready to keep us safe against any danger. I hope you know that.”

Geralt just grunted, curling into his bedroll and turning to look up at the stars above them. Hesitant, and more than a little afraid to ask, he glances over at his friend and licks his lips before opening his mouth and shutting it.

“What?”

The witcher shifts uncomfortably in his bedroll. It isn’t allowed. He isn’t some infant, some juvenile simpleton begging for a scrap of kindness and entertainment. He glances around a bit, trying to find some sort of lie but can’t help himself from staring back up at the stars.

“Oh,” Jaskier says quietly, watching Geralt look away and back up at the sky several times, throat and jaw working as he wrestled with himself. “Well, let me curl in closer, so I can point at them while I talk.”

It’s a simple matter to shift their bedrolls so Jaskier can shift his head onto Geralt’s chest, using him as a pillow. “There, that one, the belt, the Hunter. There’s many stories about him across the continent and he has many different names, but you knew that. Perhaps one day I’ll find a story of the Witcher written in the sky, instead. Who knows?” he keeps his voice in the simple cadence he uses for telling stories. “But, for now, we’ll stick to what is. And I will tell you what my mother told me about how the Hunter found himself immortalized among the stars…”

#geraskier #gerlion #yenralt #yenneralt #jaskier x geralt #lil ot3 as a V here #but mostly just the boys #will write more fic in exchange for comments #in case anyone's wondering

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