#the physical therapists just... weren't coming in to work?

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.60)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Life changes come in many many forms; courting gifts, leaving jobs, and...Murder

Tags: Slow burn getting warmer, Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Trans! Tae, Transphobia, gender thoughts, workplace discrimination, flashbacks, murder, the word 'r*pe' is used to describe what Geumjae did to her but there are no graphic depictions of it, allusions to physical abuse, graphic violence, there is a brief moment where someone not in the pack touches the m/c's ass without her consent, blood, briefly implied suicidal actions- but it's nothing like what you haven't seen before.

W/c: 12.6k

A/n: i'll be attending my cousin's wedding at the time this is posted so! give me lots of love when you read it cuz i'm so nervous~ i've never been around so many fancy people before <3

Previous part ~ Masterlist

You dab at the skin under your eyes carefully. You know they must look red and puffy. Tae’s careful instruction to treat your skin well as all good baby pups should has somehow stuck.

Even here. Even now.

“Do people like always loose it with you? Like when they walk in, do they all cry?”

Your therapist (yes, your therapist) across the narrow room is the opposite of threatening; soft face, pulled back hair, neutral clothing that might just as well be out of a country living catalog.

You don’t know where Jin found her, what little medical booklet he perused like a take-out menu, or how much her services cost per hour. Those kinds of details were not for delicate little pups like yourself to worry over in his opinion.

Most of the time, you're glad not to have to worry about things like this. But right now you're chomping at the bit. Weighting your odds. The other unknowns hover before you. One sticks out. One you're most concerned about.

Is she trustworthy?

Nothing about Dr. Rima seems outwardly threatening, yet you curl in on yourself. She smiles, scrawling something on the top of her notepad before she answers, and something taught in you ticks tighter.

“You’re correct in assuming that most people I meet cry in the first few minutes when they meet me, but you are the first person to cry on my threshold. Most of the time people wait until they’re at least in the chair.”

That has a smile tugging at your lips, albeit unwillingly. Your smile is like a leashed wild animal, with too many teeth when you feel threatened. Contained for now.

If you got up and walked out right now, would she call someone to restrain you? Will you be committed if you tell the truth? Or are you just misinterpreting the stakes?

You are here of your own volition. Even if it was a condition that Jin and Namjoon weren't willing to budge on after the events of last week. It's not like the pack is having you put in a mental institution or something, although they did come with you today. For moral support.

The waiting room was stuffy and yellow, one of those little waterfall mirrors in the corner that you’d watched in a fog sat between Yoongi and Jimin while Jin filled out the necessary paperwork. His pen hovering over the small boxes every few seconds. He'd taken the afternoon off of work to make sure he was there, just to fill out paperwork.

Are you on any medications? Do you have a history with substance abuse disorders? Do you have any intent to harm yourself or others?

Sending glares to anyone who dared to come too close, Jimin had looked and smelled threatening. You're not sure he’d have let you go into an isolated location with her if she’d been an alpha. Jin too had looked close to snapping.

yoongi was the only one who looked somewhat calm, althoug his hand was tightly laced with yours (and a little sweaty)

It’s a wonder that the rest of your pack had agreed to stay home for this. This was just one of several concessions you’d made after what the pack has politely begun referring to as 'sad pup time' during your more vulnerable moments, and blatantly 'your breakdown' during less fragile ones.

But sweet words or not. The facts remain; You are here in this chair after a nearly tearful departure.

You’d met the therapist in the doorway, shaking in your boots, and upon being separated from your pack with the promise that they’d be just downstairs in the lobby, you’d followed her inside.

Yoongi had made a noise in his throat, making you turn back. Dr.Rima turned to watch as he’d pulled you in for a last-minute hug, ducking down to your level. “One hour, okay? We’ll be just downstairs. Text me if you need me.”

His eyes were heavy-looking at the stranger. Unwilling to let you go just yet. A little stalwart, a little standoffish.

“Take good care of her please. She’s very precious to us.”

Precious.

That much was evident by the nearly three-page document that both your pack alpha and omega sent through once Namjoon and Jin had selected Dr. Rima as your therapist. Dr. Rima has quite a bit of experience dealing with overprotective pack alphas and pack omegas. Let alone a pack alpha and pack omega who have such a clinical background.

Yes, you must be well taken care of. At least on paper.

She’s already itching a little, to get her hands on all the others. Packmates and their names are written out, as a part of all intake files. Large packs aren't so common anymore. Her eyes fix on one name; Min Yoongi (beta, mate) unemployed.

The big windows help it feel not so small, on the second floor, the trees block out most of the view of the park below. A small voice that sounds like Hobi whispers that it’s a shame she doesn’t have any plants in here, they'd do so well with all of this natural light.

Your knees clack together a little, moving listlessly, the anxiety in your body begging to be released somewhere.

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Why don’t we start with why you wanted to come in today.”

You avoid her eye contact, looking instead at the tops of the trees, you don’t know why they haven’t changed color yet, all of the trees on your street are half bare already. She has a smooth inoffensive scent, but you’re mated to a beta so you know what to expect when it comes to the relaxing effects, the subtle haze at the edge of your vision. It must come in handy, having the biological upper hand, when it comes to patients in distress.

If therapists are rare, beta therapists must be even rarer.

You can practically hear Jin, “Nothing but the best for my pup.” There is a part of your brain that won’t ever turn off, appraising everything around you. The designer pumps that she wears. The knickknacks on her desks, there are no photos of any packs that she might call her own, just a pink calendar in the corner.

Your breath goes just a little bit rapid, just a little, hitching when you think of it.

“Did Jin tell you anything?”

“He didn’t. Although my secretary did inform me that he filled out the paperwork for you.” The air in the therapist’s office is cold. Cold enough that it has you wrapping your sweater sleeves over your knuckles.

Your cheeks heat “My pack they- get a bit- protective.” Your fingers circle your wrist. You’re glad that Hobi convinced you to take one of his sweatshirts. He'd had a strange look on his face while he zipped it up, and you'd had to worry and wonder about it the whole morning. You'd worried more once he texted, just after he must have gotten to work.

“I have kind of a history of self-destructive behavior and I- I kind fell into bad habits a few days ago and blew up. It was all kind of triggered by this like- thing that happened with me and my other packmate.” It’s surprisingly easy to tell the truth.

You’re a right side better than you have been the last few weeks, now. A little bit more present, less foggy. The doctor just looks at her screen and not at you. What is it with her asking questions that make you not want to lie? Why does it feel like you should anyway?

Dr. Rima reads between the lines, what you're trying to say without saying it. “Is there a possibility of you hurting yourself again?” She clicks at the screen a little rapidly.

“No.”

The truth is you have no idea. It seems best to lie in this situation. But you consider it; one of your packmates making the call that you are too much to handle, that you need more help than they can offer. You imagine what it would be like to be in inpatient care. Grippy socks and group therapy and probably observed mealtimes. Maybe Iv's and feeding tubes if it came to that. Away from the pack and away from Yoongi.

He’s just downstairs, but that feels too far. There was no way that he was going to let you do this alone, you wouldn't be surprised if he never left the waiting room.

It’s just a therapy session. The very thing that you once refused. But now that you're here you might as well heal, you might as well work to stop this endless train of brief highs and endless lows. you'll give it a go, why not? What do you have to lose?

And yet, the texts from Hobi remain unanswered:

Ho-🐝 (9:48): Hey, I’m really proud of you.

Ho-🐝 (9:48): I’m really happy I get to be your packmate. In case you ever worry.

Ho-🐝 (9:49): And your best friend too &lt;3

Ho-🐝 (9:51): Just so you knowwww

The pack has kept you substantially plied with little solutions since your breakdown last week. They haven’t let you rot like usual. They’ve kept your days full of little activities; nothing too extravagant or tiring. Letting you rest when you need to and encouraging you to get outside of your comfort zone when it’s clear you’re giving in.

It comes down to that more often than not; giving in or not giving in.

Not giving in looks like trips back to the beach with Hobi. Like going to the salon with Tae and shopping with Jimin. Or another workout class with Jungkook where you’d spent more of the time lounging on the yoga mat than actually moving your body. But you'd still tenuously agreed to sign up for more classes under the encouragement of Wonho and Jungkook.

And now twice a week, you’ve got a mat to call your own during any classes, in the back, if you decide you want it. Your callender hasn't felt so full in years, it feels strange, to have something to do during the weeks that isn't just scraping the bottom of the barrel and doing house chores. Strange in a good way.

Not all of the pack's solutions aren’t silly but sometimes, silly is a good way to push out the dark.

The morning after your breakdown; you'd watched your pack work, fighting back a flush. Sitting at the kitchen bar stool while Yoongi applied painter’s tape to the floor, not intent on keeping back paint this time, but marking it off for you.

You’re a little bit more determined this morning although your first night without nightmares in a little over a month had kept you in higher spirits. You feel more well-rested than you have in ages.

“You don’t need to- I promise- I’m not going-“ but your requests had fallen on deaf ears. Worry building until Jungkook stood up fast grinning up at you, pupils wide brown pools from getting scented stupid this morning.

(Scented stupid, you'd been scented by the pack too, had struggled a little against it, too shy as Namjoon dragged his throat along yours, squirming until yoongi held you down a little, checking with you each few seconds that you wanted that, that your squirming was really just needing to feel a firm touch, a dominant one.

You will go nowhere until your pack have had their right to you, scenting you up, making your scent gland tender and swollen under their teeths and tongues.

It felt so much better to be made to handle it, each of the pack, even hobi, hovering over you to scent you with their wrists and throats. until you smelled so claimed by them that you couldn't breathe without smelling it- Pack.

Jungkook had pouted until he'd gotten the same treatment, although the omegaspace haze had lasted longer on him than it had on you.

He stands up so fast that his hair fluffs. Catching himself on your leg with a giggle before he topples over. grinning up at you before pressing a sleepy sloppy kiss to your knee and then another to your lips,

“No pup zone!" Omega Space Jungkook can get a little bit ridiculous even at the best of times. He's got a case of the morning omegaspace zoomies as he giggles and nips at your nose. You playfully push at his chest. He doesn't budge.

"Your whole face is a no-pup zone." The dissatisfied pur-chirp he'd let out had sounded half hurt, half encouraged.

Namjoon had eased your discomfort. Pulling you from the stool to lean back against his chest, fingers drumming out a rhythm on your legs as Jungkook huffes into your throat.

Having this failsafe- this rule, does not mean that they think you’re going to fail, these are guard rails to keep you on track. Namjoon looks down at you, his full bottom lip tucked a little, not a pout but close. “This is the easiest solution, if you don’t go near it then maybe, maybe it helps.”

His fingers drum against your skin again, and you lean back into him. Uneasy but willing to let him soothe you.

So yes, you’ve been banned from the kitchen, banned from crossing that line that runs from the edge of the coffee stand and just in front of Tae's library room, to the island and over to the fridge. Unless there is someone else close by. You are not allowed here without supervision.

It’s a simple solution, limiting you from the place that you use to hurt yourself. Never mind the fact that there are dozens if not hundreds of other possible avenues you could use. Your creativity knows no bounds when it comes to pain, but you quiet that part of yourself when the desire for hurt gets loud.

You can’t say it hasn’t helped. But then again, the pack has kept you so busy since your breakdown that you haven't had any time to think of hurting yourself let alone put any plans into action.

Across from you, Dr. Rima waits expectantly.

"It was kind of triggered by this thing that happened."

The tip of her pen bobs a little as she writes. “Could you describe the event to me? Or is that something you're not ready to talk about?" You nod and she waits patiently. It takes you a breath to answer.

“A little less than a month ago one of my packmates and I found a dead body."

You feel a little vindicated at her inhale of breath. Wide eyes that say yes- that is something traumatic, yes, it's fair that it kinda triggered you into a more fragile state.

"It dredged up a lot of feelings about my past. Before that, I was kind of starting to feel s-safe which I haven't like, ever been able to feel."

“And your packmate?"

There is new treacherous wetness balancing on your waterline. “Hobi’s a lot stronger than me, his past and mine are really similar but he just- handles his better. A lot of the time it feels like I learn from him even though he’d tell you the opposite is true. He’s my best friend." Your voice goes quiet, "I love my mate more than I love anyone else, but sometimes- Hobi just- gets me you know?" You go a little misty-eyed. Hands tightening on Hobi's sweatshirt.

“Yet he’s not the one sitting in my chair right now.”

You close your eyes, "he's not."

“For what it’s worth- you can have more than one best friend.” Dr. Rima writes as quickly as she can, taking it down. “How long have you been romantically involved with him? Who came first, your mate or him?”

You jolt forward, “Oh no- we’re not- Hobi and I aren't-" You take a deep breath to clarify. "Everyone else in the pack is together but Hobi and I are just friends. We all have our like… little units?”

"Primary partners." Dr. Rima offers.

"Yeah, that." But even that doesn't really cover it, because while Jin and Namjoon are JinandNamjoon and Jimin and Tae are JiminandTae. Jungkook is everyone's problem (in the best of ways) and you and Tae are something else too. The pack's girls the rest of them would say.

(You and Hobi are, well, YouandHobi.)

It sounds weird to say it once it comes out of your mouth. It makes an odd choked feeling lodge in your throat. Too much hope and too much shame for hoping blooming in your chest.

“I don’t know if I want to talk about him.”

She folds her hands over her knees, setting her pen down. Dr. Rima has chubby hands, disproportionate to her body. They look like they'd be soft.

She reminds you of your mom a little bit.

“That’s okay, we can talk about whatever you want. What you want and need is going to be the focus of our sessions. You’re the pilot here. I’m just here to help you interpret your thoughts and feelings.”

She folds her hands over themselves, setting her pen aside, “Why don’t we talk about the last time you remember feeling safe.”

"Physically or mentally?"

"Either, you can choose."

The rest of the session passes frightfully quickly. You can’t say that you don’t cry again. When you finally talk about Geumjae, her smile quickly dissipates. You talk and talk and talk until your throat is raw. Until you’ve depleted the whole box of her tissues. She shows you she's got more hidden under her desk when you apologize, her secret stash gets a laugh out of you.

“The fact that your pack omega filled out your paperwork isn’t the most unusual, but his preference for daily meetings or every other day is a little bit on the nose for a pack omega, I’m wondering if you share his preference.”

“He’s just overprotective.” She eyes you like Jin has good reason to be. You don’t blush this time, a little more comfortable with Dr. Rima than you were at the beginning of this. “I think maybe more than once a week but not every day.”

“How does Monday- Friday sound?”

~-~

When you walk to the door with Dr. Rima Yoongi stands abruptly from his chair.

You can tell by the shiny edge to his to his scent that he doesn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. He gets the information about your next appointment and then tugs you out the door.

Jins got his legs crossed, fancy leather shoes glinting in the sunlight by the windows. The lobby is buzzing with people coming and going. This building isn't just a therapy office but a collection of other businesses with a few shops and restaurants on the ground floor as well. He looks up and double-takes when he spots you, not standing from his chair, but he opens his arms and you fold yourself along his side, conscious of the other eyes but this.

This you need.

You press your face along the column of Jin's neck, breathing his cream scent in deep.

“Oh pup.”

Your red-rimmed eyes are too obvious and you sniffle wetly, “It was okay, I like Dr. Rima.” He laces your hands together and resists the urge to pester you with questions. Yoongi's hand is still tangled in the hood of your (Hobi's) sweatshirt. Your therapy sessions should be yours and only yours. Yoongi and Jin do not have Dr. patient confidentiality.

And yet the need to know if that helped burns through them. They won't have to wonder for long.

By the coffee stand, Jimin waves and he returns to you when the barista hands over a bag of sweets and a quad of cups. Jin continues scrawling something out for another second before he’s standing and pulling you in for another chaste scent mark.

“Let’s go home.” It's somewhere between an order and a request. But no one disobeys.

On the drive back (37 minutes total) you're a little quiet. You let the sounds of the others be your buffer. You look down at your phone and stare at Hobi’s texts. You respond with just a little heart emoji when you finally still can’t figure out a good response and you're close to home.

Home is its usual conflagration of moving bits and pieces. Each of your packmates is like a shiny cog in a pretty clock, tick tick tick tocking along. Tae and Namjoon are at the table looking through some of the pack’s bills, the pastries and coffee cups litter the table with little piles of powdered sugar and cinnamon. jimin bought enough for the whole pack.

You look at them a little too long, although not because you don't want to eat them. It’s been a while, a few weeks since you’ve made something like that, but every single one of the pastries is something you know how to make. You don’t know why you keep looking at them.

Tae smiles at you, still in the doorway. and it makes you feel a little less like you want to burst into tears. Her voice speaks of the quiet time you have in the library (the tenderness of having someone else do your makeup, another person combing your hair). You hope you'll get some dedicated one-on-one time with her soon.

"Hey little lovely, How was it?"

"She put me through the wringer but I think she got some suds out."

She and Namjoon giggle and you smile small. and you can tell that Namjoon wants to ask you more but he doesn't after a pointed look from your mate. There are footsteps in the hall and before you can move to take off your shoes Hobi is standing in the archway.

Yoongi efficiently strips you of Hobi's sweatshirt with a frustrated huff. It's Kind of like he’s trying to peel away the sadness (your clothes are soaked with your sour scent, rainy and unhappy. Regardless of Jin’s scent mark, you kind of stink).

You might have overheard their words just before you got into the car. Jin's hissed admonishment. “A lot of people cry during therapy Minnie, she’s not in trouble, can’t you smell it?”

Your scent is mellow underneath the memory of your distress, going sweeter by the second. Yoongi wants all memories of your sad scent banished from the house. Hobi stands at the door to the hallway, shifting back and forth, his eyes a little warmer than usual, hands shaking a little bit.

You’ve caught him looking at you a lot since the night he ran away, in the quiet moments when he thinks you’re not noticing. Eyes a shade warmer than usual, a sweetened franticness to his scent. Nervousness and happiness mix like blueberries and whipped cream.

When he pulls up beside you during movie nights and sits thigh to thigh with you. When his hands intertwine with yours over his knee or sometimes or when he pulls your legs sideways across his lap. He looks at you like that when he's doing the small things and he's looking at you like that right now.

You know how love starts, that it starts with the small things.

Hobi resists the urge to open his arms. would you come to him? Would you fold your body along his front so that he could feel your heartbeat? Pressing again and again to the opposite side of his chest with every thump?

He doesn’t say hey, but he does step a little closer. Fingers reaching out. The pad of his index finger slides down the meat of your pinky till it reaches the ball of your wrist. His own special hello.

Your breath hitches, just barely, almost imperceptible if it wasn’t for how close he stands.

A look behind you says Yoongi hasn’t made himself scarce, instead fussing with the pack's coats. Now that it’s getting colder, they don’t all fit by the door. You look behind Hobi and find Namjoon watching the three of you, he raises a singular eyebrow.

“How was it? Bad?” Hobi asks, breaking the silence and the tension, drawing your attention back to him. The next breath you let out is a lot less heavy, and your eyelashes flutter as he steps closer. Hobi smells good, a little earthy, mellowing out his usual sweetness. Sweet for an alpha.

“It was kind of hard, I kinda wanted to run away for a bit at the beginning." You can't keep meeting his eyes with how intensely he's looking at you and they flutter down to his hands. "I almost did.”

"I'm glad you didn't pup." Jin comments, full of reproach, the mirror to you and Hobi as he leans down to press a kiss to Namjoon's forehead. Shucking off his lapelled jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt.

“If you’d have called me, I’d have picked you up. We could still like- run away, if you're down.”

But the house is starting to heat up, and Jin and Yoongi are starting to cook. The light is still honey-yellow happy. And you tip your cheek into his arm. He finally- finally lets his arms settle around your waist.

“Nah, not yet.” You drag out the syllable all playful, and something forbidden stirs in Hobi’s gut. “Jin’s making my favorite tonight. not until later?”

Hobi goes silent, pulls back, biting his lips, eyes flickering from your eyes down. and-

You laugh and Hobi blushes. “Just spit it out.”

Everyone’s been a little bit touchier with you since that night (a little more overbearing too). You won’t immediately chalk Hobi's touchyness up to what you're all thinking. But the affection makes your scent gland feel tender. Zinging when Yoongi steps up behind you and nuzzles into it, huffing again.

Friends can hug each other after therapy right? Hobi swallows thickly and you feel it against your collar bone as he pulls back and steps away from you. “I ugh- got you a present?”

You brighten up instantly, and Hobi's anxiety increases tenfold. A bit of casual mischievousness on the edge of your lips that always have Hobi feeling like he’s being teased even though he knows he isn’t.

“Oh? A present? You’ve never gotten me a present before!”

He kicks at imaginary dust bunnies, fighting back what he knows is a noticeable flush. “I ugh- still owe you, from the car you know and honestly it's not even like a big gift it's like- so small in comparison and-”

Yoongi huffs and continues to disrobe you. Pulling your sweater over your head when he’s not satisfied that your unhappy scent has dissipated. Muttering something like. “hopeless alpha” under his breath. Your tank top pulls up, inches of your hip and skin on display. It's nothing that Hobi hasn't seen before and yet the blush reignites. The sunshine to your morning glory.

“I guess you're right.” But it doesn’t feel like it. Hobi doesn’t owe you anything for that, not when it was so easy to give. Not when you’ve gotten so many late-night drives from that gift.

Hoseok got the idea for your courting gift, one morning while watching you say goodbye to Namjoon:

The pack alpha has always been a fan of goodbye kisses, good morning, and goodnight kisses too. The particular kiss that morning had ‘I’ll miss you’ written all over it. It was so pretty in the way that you lingered, arms around Namjoon’s neck. His hand is underneath your shirt on the small of your back. Such a small touch and yet so gently possessive that it had Hobi aching to see it.

Hobi is unfortunately prone to jealousy and it turns the back of his neck hot. Makes his hands feel oddly tender. He's distracted by the visual, the task of packing up his work bag forgotten. Hoseok’s shift at the flower shop doesn’t start for another few hours, and he’s waiting, watching, an unhappy voyeur.

You and Namjoon have quite the height difference, if he was in between the two of you he’d be the perfect middle ground. That’s just another stupid thought, another stupid thought in the countless number of stupid thoughts that he’s had. (I like my alphas a little pathetic, and nothing's more pathetic than an alpha pining after an omega.)

He grumbles.

Yoongi prattles on, more awake than all of them as he outlines what you have to do today to make progress on the house- which is to go find a place that sells cheaper tile than the ones you first thought of using in the bathroom on the first floor. And maybe change it up a little.

The bathrooms escaped the renovations somehow, and a few nights ago- Jimin had admitted how much they actually use it even though it’s not the pack's primary bathroom anymore. Now that it’s not in use, they’re more willing to part with it for a few days for some very necessary re-styling. it toes the line from vintage to old a little too hard. The yellow is a little…yellow.

Yoongi wants to go light and airy with the color scheme, like he did with the upstairs bathroom and it's seafoam and brown tones. But like with most of the house, your vote is for colorful. “How about a light blue-” Yoongi continues to argue while you kiss Namjoon a little senseless in the doorway, at least Namjoon seems properly dazed, chasing your lips when you pull apart.

“No- we don’t have a room that’s magenta yet!”

This starts the same argument as always; “We can’t make every room in this house pink for Tae.”

But goodbyes take precedence, and when you turn back and smile at Hobi he flushes, shy to be caught looking. He moves, stepping around you and Namjoon to put his water bottle into his bag when you shout, “Stop, Seokie!”

Seokie is a new nickname, one that Jin only uses in the quietest of moments that you've somehow adopted when you don't want to call him Hobi. Hobi always thought that if you’d use any other nickname with him- you’d use daisy (he might want you and yoongi to share that pet name). But he’s a good pup and stops what he’s doing. Every atom in his body every electron no longer circulates neutrons but circulates you instead. Pulled in by your gravity.

You’ve moved so suddenly that you’ve spilled a bit of your coffee onto the floor. Maybe kissing Namjoon has left you feeling a little dizzy too. Yoongi just sighs fondly and wipes it up. Jimin looks up from his phone, smiling when he sees.

“You’ve got a rainbow on your cheek.”

It’s a trick of the light, early morning sunshine refracted through the mottled window just right to cast a single rainbow on the wall and on Hobi when he steps in front of it.

You cup his cheek, finger skimming across where the rainbow sits.

"Pretty."

Hobi feels hot all over.

At Tae’s call of, “If I have to do my eyeliner one more time I’m going to scream!” You giggle and dart away from him. Going to tend to Tae with a soft reply of "I've got you baby."

Hoseok is left, blushing in the morning light. Staying still like you might come by and cup his cheek again, Like a flower staying still in the hope of pollination.

Hobi is left, wanting to scream and somehow demand you back, both would be fair. His plight isn't missed by his packmates, who lean in like a set of jackals, grinning ear to ear at hobi's flustered predicament.

She's going to send him into rut if she's not careful Jin thinks, but doesn't say. instead he teases, “You’ve got to leave in the next ten-minute Hobi.”

Only then does Hoseok move- released from his spell and finally losing the rainbow on his cheeks though they might as well have stayed with how happy and warm he feels. How absolutely incandescent the love is glowing in his chest. A full spectrum of feelings, longing for you to come back.

He almost trips over noodle, darting after you with his tail raised high, catching himself on the edge of the couch at the last second, one shoe on and one off, his water bottle falling and spilling in the process.

yoongi sighs, and stoops to wipe it up. Jimin giggles and pulls Hobi up by his hips, the alpha's fingers feel hot where they've touched him, scalding. “What’s wrong, omega got your tongue?” yoongi returns to his breakfast, throwing the wad of soggy paper towels into the trash.

Jungkook laughs, “It’s more like he wants an omega to have his tongue in her-“

“You guys are gross,” He pushes at Jimin’s shoulder finally moving right. Yoongi hides his smile in a mouthful of Captain Crunch.

Hobi doesn’t think about the rainbows again until his next afternoon shift. When the low angle of the autumn sun cuts through the windows and catches the suncatchers that they hang in the doorway of the flower shop and cast more rainbows- dozens of them really across him and the flower.

He remembers when you came to visit, how you'd lingered over them, looked at them a second longer than you looked at the plants.

It’s a bit of a kitschy display. Other polished stones and nick nacks sitting on the deep shelf along with some smaller potted plants. A little tray of rose-quartz stones falsely advertises themselves as ‘heat reducers.’

The colors start to blend, and the rainbows sway softly in the light, gentle and pretty. He snaps a photo and thinks about sending it to you, but doesn’t.

The store is blissfully empty of Hobi's coworkers when he selects three of them. It's quiet when he packages them in tissue paper, one with a huge pink stained-glass moon at the top, another with three tiers. Each of them is delicate and pretty in their own right. No one’s bought a single one of them in the last three months anyway. They'll hardly be missed. Hobi gives himself a fat employee discount.

Hobi is unfortunately bad at hiding things, especially when he's nervous. Luckily the pack alpha doesn’t have it in him to tease. Namjoon had in fact been only too encouraging and given him a pep talk just this morning about courting and courting presents.

“The worst that can happen is that she doesn’t like it- and then you just have to try again which you were already planning on doing anyway.” Namjoon is quite simply the best at courting. It doesn't matter which subgender; alphas, beta’s, and omegas have all fallen under his touch. At least Hoseok has the opportunity to learn from a professional. Somehow the thought that you'd compare him to namjoon doesn't cross his mind.

Hoseok isn’t good at the romantic gestures that courting necessitates. He’s more of the ‘there when you need him’ kind of lover. Ready to make the small changes to make his loved ones' lives more manageable. Ready with his car keys for adventures. Those parts are easy, this is out of his depth.

Especially when it comes to you. Even After the love confessions, (are confessions still confessions if they’re so internal?) Hobi feels mostly unmoored. About to shatter upon unknown shores.

God, crushes are so frustrating (in the best kind of way, the way that keeps you sighing and daydreaming, the kind of way that makes you look in the mirror a little longer).

Tae helped him half an hour before she started on the pack's paperwork. They'd spent an hour deciding which places were best to hang them to get the greatest number of rainbows. She had even fussed with his hair a little to make it lie right. Having him hop up on the couch so she could see Hobi's face from your angle.

Hobi wanted to make sure there were at least one or two rainbows when he shows you. But when he leads you to the sunroom, his hands over your eyes (the same position you found yourself in when Namjoon surprised you with the nesting pod) there are more of them than there were when he set them up, whole constellations swaying softly.

The suncatchers are pretty and twinkly sparkly in the golden hour light, and your lips part in a simple show of awe when Hobi tells you you can open your eyes. It's so bright, they send dozens of little rainbows across the walls and your nesting pod. Over the white couch and the fig in the corner.

It’s very very pretty. and when you turn back to look a thim, Hobi once again has a rainbow on his cheek.

Your eyes twinkle, but you don't say anything. you stay quiet for long enough that Hobi gets nervous. his anxiety makes him talk fast. “I hung them here- but you can put them wherever you want- in the kitchen or upstairs or I can get you more for any places you want to put them- or- or- ”

You just about tackle him, arms looping around his neck resting your weight in his arms that instinctively grip around your waist. Hobi teeters, unsteady with such a heavy heart, toppling both of you onto the couch as you cry. "I love it!"

You’re sprawled not lying across him but his hand goes out to support the way you cling and rub your face into his chest, a happy little chirp slipping past your lips.

The wild thing in Hobi’s chest settles, settles, and curls around you. Tight and protective like a vice. You pull back, and your smile is just as bright.

Hobi sags, and rests his neck back against the couch, "Good- thank fucking god- I was so fucking nervous-" You fiddle with the buttons on his flannel, it's one of Yoongi's. It seems fitting that you steal his clothes and he steals Yoongi's.

"What brought all this on?"

Hobi doesn't have a good answer, in the quiet with the rainbows, or at least an answer he's ready for. He doesn't say that this is a courting present, and he doesn't need to because instead of answering your question- he replies with one of his own.

“Wanna go for a drive later?” he asks, voice tremulous like he thinks you might refuse him. You’ve never said no to him before, never said not tonight only not right now. Do you treasure our little talks the same way I do?

“Sure, after dinner? like I said? Just-" You lean back against his chest, and Hobi’s hands go tight tight tight around your waist. Holding you close. Clingy. He does not slip his hand under your shirt to cup the side of your hip the way that Namjoon might, but the thought crosses his mind.

Hobi is a good alpha, he won't cross that line until you tell him it's okay. Until then a thin layer of fabric separates his skin from yours. You're still warm to the couch.

“Sit and watch them with me?” You ask quietly. Almost shy, like you think he’d refuse you. He nods and the two of you sit on the couch to look at the rainbows together.

Eventually, Noodle finds the two of you, meowing and hopping up to stretch out along your thighs. Worming his way between the two of you.

The rainbows don't last forever, but Hobi sits with you until they fade.

~-~

Tae’s library is just like every public library:

Tall windows, wide quiet shelves with room for the stories to breathe. A colorful young adult section and an even more colorful kid’s section. A bit aways from the tables and computers so that any over-excited pups don’t disturb the adults. Big deep beanbags for small children to cuddle up to while they ponder fairy tales and adventures only a plastic-covered book away.

Tae’s long plaid skirt barely makes a whisper along the ground. The colder weather has allowed her to live all of her cottage core fantasies, her dark academia aesthetic truly flourishing. Her shirt is a little translucent today, and the fading summer tan of her skin pokes through it in spots where her tank top doesn't hide. Pretty long earrings dangle and clink in the quiet while she works on her shelving.

Wearing her chosen clothing items at work has been a bit of a work in progress.

Most of Tae’s coworkers approve of her transition in that overly willing-to-be-an-ally way that middle-aged women who generally consider themselves progressive outside of closed doors all do. And the ones that don’t approve have swallowed their words with lingering sour eyes and raised upper lips after the general receptiveness to Tae’s social transition.

It's hard to know who's genuine with it, who just doesn't want to cause a fuss, and who just doesn't give a shit. But most of the time her outfits get one or two compliments and thats it. Tae would rather them say nothing than anything negitive.

Tae likes the quiet of the library at this time of day, the silence gives her enough room to let her imagination wander. Tae likes to file away books in mid-morning, when there are fewer people around and her humming is less likely to disturb any of the library’s patrons. She sings to the stories and they sing back, tempting her with every well-worded title and delicately chaste summary.

But she doesn’t just think about stories or the book she's writing (her book is currently giving her hell on the 30th chapter) No. Today- there is a much more interesting love story blooming in her head, in the pack's den too.

She’s been thinking about you all morning (Tae thinks about you almost every morning) there are even little poems scrawled on the edge of her newspaper. Lines that are you and a bit of Hobi too.

I wished that I might be your hair clip / to know what it feels like / to be pressed against the nape of your neck/ To be your suntan/ perched on the edge/ of what you show everyone and what you show no one/ To be the bearer of every freckle/ like the sky holds the stars/ To hold and never let go/ Like birds hold sunshine / and flowers hold songs.

Everyone had noticed of course, how much time you and Hobi have been spending together.

The pack had even talked about it during a quiet moment without you and Hobi. Yoongi’s lack of communication regarding you and Hobi. “I don’t know anything” he’d unsuccessfully lied, and nearly been heaved up and wrestled to the couch as a result. But Jungkook’s puppy eyes had unsuccessfully endeared him.

Yoongi has kept Hobi's secret, but it's kind of hard not to notice. Tae isn't a fool. Tae is a much better liar than Yoongi is- because when you'd come to her after your late-night drive to gush with her about Hobi and the rainbows over makeup. She hadn't said anything about what she knows.

Tae couldn’t tell you how many times she’d noticed little touches, Hobi’s hand lingering on the small of your back, grabbing your waist when he moved behind you in the bathroom. When he take the greatest care to set out his sweatshirts in the morning and even asks Jungkook to make sure they’re clean. They’re practically not even his sweatshirts anymore with the amount you’ve been wearing them.

Tae isn’t an idiot, she knows that Hobi’s finally realized it. While she doesn’t trust herself to play matchmaker given how poorly the first time she pointed out Hobi’s attraction went. that doesn’t mean she’s not going to park herself firmly on the edge of her fantasy land with a box of popcorn.

If they were gonna get married, would Hobi wear a red tux or black or grey? Her brain is already thinking of wedding dresses. One of these days she’s really going to have to make a Pinterest board. Hobi would probably want to do sunflowers, and that might clash with the red unless it was a fall wedding- ooh, and what about pearl details and daisies? a beach wedding might be a little too on the nose for you.

Tae is so absorbed with her shelving and her daydreaming that she doesn’t notice the sound of small shoes on the carpeted floor. Nor does she notice the light-up flash of tiny iorn man sneakers. Her musings are easily interrupted by a small tug on her skirt, shy almost. She startles a little, looking down at the sudden touch.

The little pup's thumb is wet from where it was clearly placed behind their bucked teeth. He's got wide brown eyes and soft-looking hair, Tae can't stop the smile that comes to her lips.

“I wanted to read a book but I couldn’t reach, can you help me? Please?”

Tae’s heart swells as she leans down to the pup's level. “Of course, I can! Why don’t you show me what one you wanted,” diligently Tae follows the little one a few isles over, tugged along by their insistent pulling as he tells her about the pretty cover.

The little pup turns back, furrowing his bushy brows up at Tae, “are you a princess?” he asks. Tae almost has to laugh, a bright happy gender euphoric feeling filling her chest, that feeling of I could be filling her.

She makes her whisper just a little more hushed, playing along, “Don’t tell anyone okay? It's a secret.” The little pup nods, eyes darting around like there are dragons that would threaten her.

“What gave me away?”

“Princesses wear long skirts!” the pup says cheerfully, like it makes the most sense in the world. He's a little too loud and Tae winces. He finally finds the shelve with the story. The spine glimmers pink and gold and Tae is unsurprised to find the illustrated copy of Cinderella. Not the Disney or PJ version, but the Brothers Grimm version.

Tae cringes at the pair of doves on the cover.

Tae doesn’t say that the little pup is too small to read a book so big, or that there is one with more pictures much more appropriate away from the young adult section. The child can’t be more than 6 years old.

But still, Tae retrieves it and delivers it to their waiting arms. The little one clutches it to his chest, thanks Tae, and then promptly plops themselves onto the carpeted floor right there.

He opens the first page, huffs, and then looks up at her imploringly.

“I just realized I can’t read.”

He pouts and Tae melts. Tae wonders where the pup's mother is, but really, there certainly can't be much harm in this. This isn't the first time Tae has been guilted into reading a story to a pup while their parents work or make use of the library's computers.

"Just the first page.” She intones, caution for the child’s hopes in her voice, she presses her skirt under her knees and sits on the scratchy carpet. The pup curls close to see the pictures. Resting his tiny chubby cheek in the billow of Tae’s big puffy sleeve.

Tae's chest is all tight as she reads. The pup is very well-behaved, he pauses, and asks questions in a soft voice only when Tae gives him space to respond. Tae easily ommits the parts that aren't appropriate. but tae finds herself watching the pup a little bit more as the minutes stretch.

In a few years with your own little ones around, will Tae become the defacto bedtime story reader? Will she do this with the pack's pups one day? Will she be the one to take that bright little light in their eyes that imagines things as greater and more and cultivate it? Her cheeks feel warm at the prospect, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings in excitement.

Your pups and Jin's pups too- they're gonna be so loved. Tae's gonna be the best mom to them, The best alpha too.

One page turns into two and then three. In this quiet corner with only Tae’s voice as ruler and god, the little pup hinges on every word. Until there’s another voice close by. An adult not wishing to be loud, a whispered name.

“Jae?”

Tae smiles up at the woman at the end of the aisle of books. Her smile turns sweeter when Jae hops up and runs to press his face into her jeaned thighs. Tae remembers how that felt, how every scent besides Tae’s own omega mother felt overwhelming and icky.

Tae stands with a crack of her knees and makes to hand over the book, “This makes a great bedtime story until about chapter 8, that one you might want to skip until he’s a little older.”

The woman makes to smile, but it only goes so far. Tae watches in perfect detail, everything in slow motion, as her eyes flicker down to Tae’s Addams apple.

She drags her child close by their wrist quicker than Tae can blink. Tae sees the moment that the child realizes this touch isn’t gentle, wide eyes going fear-stricken as he's tugged behind her back. And then it's all downhill from there.

I'll spare you the more vile bits.

But the saddest moment of the argument that follows (Which involves not one but three of Tae's co-workers to calm down the hysterical woman whose screeches echo around the quiet library) is when the pup tries to get his mother's attention. "Mom, I liked that she was reading to me."

"He" the certified Karen hisses, moving in a way that makes the pup flinch back. "-should know better than to corrupt a pup with such- such-" her eyes dart down and up, and Tae's skin burns. "Disgusting behavior."

The misgendering doesn't even sting. What does hurt is the eyes peering in. She isn't being quiet and it's causing many of the library's patrons' attention is diverted. Tae's coworkers have put themselves between Tae and the woman. But there still aren't enough people (enough packmates) in between her and the verbal tirade.

An hour later, after the woman has left after threatening to call the police, Tae talks with his boss and his boss’s boss. The room behind the front desk is glass, and he knows that the door doesn’t keep the sound of their raised voice out.

“I wasn’t harassing her child; I was just helping him find a book for Christ sake!”

The worst part is that this isn’t the first time that this has happened. No- since Tae came out there have been two other complaints leveled against her from bigoted patrons. Both right at the beginning before she got the hang of presenting how she wanted to.

At least those confrontations weren’t face-to-face. At least those complaints didn’t end with someone threatening to call the police and a pup cowering, tugged along too roughly out the door.

The little pup had glanced back at Tae, mouth in pout, eyes swimming with tears.

Even if the woman felt righteous in her anger, the least she could have done was not yell in front of the pup. Tae promises herself right then and there, that she'll never raise her voice in front of the pack's pups, not in anger.

The book has stayed on the counter at the front. Pink and gold and treacherous. Tae hopes that if anything, the pup finds it and reads the ending one day. Stories have a way of finding us, even when the world makes us let them go.

Now in the back room behind the check-out counter. Tae’s boss levels her with an expectant look, the kind that people give when they don’t want to be transphobic not really- it’s just so hard for them not to, so learned. Tae is the nail that sticks up. It’s bullshit really. Tae can tell it's bullshit before she opens her mouth.

“Really? He asked for Cinderella?”

“Yes.” Tae’s biting tone is an alpha’s tone, not a man’s, and yet she knows how it sounds.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m not lying.” Is Tae supposed to only help some children find the books they want? Is she supposed to look at them and make her best guess if they’ve got homophobic parents and skip them over? It’s not her fault that the sweet sweet pup’s parent was a bigot.

“I can’t help but feel like- you’ve got a personal agenda-“

"Charlie-" the district manager cautions.

Tae can’t stop herself from snapping, alpha anger sparking with the intent to burn. “Little boys should be allowed to read Cinderella if they want to” Rats and all. Her hands are shaking, and it isn’t missed by them. The room smells thick with Tae’s spicy cinnamon anger.

The district manager sets her hand on Tae's shoulder, and her anger ebbs just a little. “I think maybe you should go home a little early today, just to cool off. We can talk about it more tomorrow.”

Tae doesn’t want to go home early, Tae doesn’t want to go home at all as she packs up her books. Her bag lighter than usual, absent of the stories that she wants to take home. For once there aren’t any that she wants to read.

She walks to the train station because Jimin won’t be off work for another 2 hours and that’s when he’d usually pick her up, the last three days he’s gotten her flowers too; white roses the first day, pink the second, and red the third. She sends him a text.

Tae <3 (1:48): I left work early today, you don’t have to pick me up, I’ll get an Uber home.

Mini-alpha (1:49):!!!!!

Mini-alpha (1:49): What happened? Are you sure you don’t want me to pick you up? I can leave now.

Tae sighs, looking down at her phone while she waits for the crosswalk light to come on. Red still, green in a few seconds, she only has to wait. She can practically feel Jimin's nervous energy through the phone. it's a wonder he doesn't immediately call her.

It makes her soft. It isn't in Jimin's nature to give any of his lovers any space but he always makes an effort when it comes to her.

Tae <3 (1:53): No. It’s fine. I’ll talk to you when you get home.

Tae doesn’t want to talk to Jimin about transphobia again. At least not yet. It’s too much energy. It’s not that Tae doesn’t want to make what happened during Namjoon’s rut better. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk about it- it’s just that there’s nothing to talk about, the explanation of his actions are such a burden for Tae to bear. And Tae trusts that Jimin’s heart is in the right place even if he makes mistakes. And even telling Jimin off, yelling at him, wouldn’t change it.

Either one day Tae will not have to deal with bigoted parents, either one day she’ll pass and won’t have to worry, or she'll always be in this awkward middle ground.

Trans people are like toupees, you only notice them when there’s something off, something a little misplaced about them. Tae fears that most of all. Femininity, as much as she wants it, as much as it's hers to take, what if it won't ever fit right? What if she never passes?

Tae loves her job at the library, it’s the perfect mix of boring and safe and easy even if it doesn’t pay enough. But even as she's gained things like skirts and puffy sleeves, she's exchanged them for days like today. Really, the library was her favorite place before today and now, every step away from it makes her feel a little lighter. She's not even angry anymore, just exhausted mentally.

Tae decides to walk home at least she’s in her most conservative channel flats, they could use a little bit more wear and love and Tae’s thoughts are still too sharp. She dulls them to a palatable edge that all falls apart when she gets home.

You’re there, thank fucking god you’re always there when she gets home. You’ll always be Tae’s comfort person.

Tae opens the door with a creek and push of cold air, you're saying something to Yoongi turning with a toss of your hair, eyes brightening when you see her before you've even said her name.

You look a little healthier today, with a little bit more of a rosy glow to your cheeks and a healthy brightness to your eyes, not all glassy.

"Tae! You're home early!"

Tae will never stop being proud of how hard you try, and will never stop being a bit envious either because Tae-

Tae looks at you and wilts, bag flopping onto the floor, and predictably burst into tears.

"Oh- oh Tae."

"Baby girl-"

You and Yoongi are just about the best security blanket a packmate could ask for. You're so good as you pull her down to your level so you can kiss away her tears, maneuvering her like a perfect team onto the couch. Yoongi's strong hands slide off her shoes. Yoongi's fingers digging into her sore heel as you kiss away her every tear.

A substantial amount of babying and a Sos packmate in distress text later, and Tae is reclining across a freshly fluffed nest, the muscles in her body relaxed. The blisters on the back of her feet are bandaged and kissed. Every inch of her body is too.

You don't talk about it until after the pack's facemasks are finished, and hobi's clear coat has dried over the tiny nail sticker that you left. a small bumblebee.

Your skin smells sweet after a long long bath full of fancy bath bombs. Jinnie had also rubbed oil onto her freshly shaven legs. You helped, dragging it along oh so carefully to not nick her skin. Ending each pass with a kiss to her ankle and then upper thigh.

Tae’s head is in your lap now, cheek pressed against your (slightly chubbier) thighs. Her sniffles the background music as Tae gives her final recap of what happened.

Your nose gets a wrinkle in it when you go cross. "There's so much meanness to the world, I hate how people have to add to it."

Jimin’s anger leaves an undercurrent in the air, dragging the other alphas along, Hobi’s hands are strong where they dig into Tae’s shoulders, belly down in the nest while you play with her hair, braiding it back and forth. The attention makes her feel a little tingly.

“Do you know what her name was? Did you get a look at her car-“ Jimin asks, nearly barking. The library has cameras. Jimin knows it does.

Jin sets a hand on the back of his neck, a scruff threatening. “Down pup. Tae doesn’t need you to track them down.” Jimin’s teeth look particularly sharp in the light. For a face so soft he has quite the mouth on him.

“They made her sad,” he growls, but it's softer, more pointed as he crouches over her.

Namjoon’s quiet voice unlocks the whole world's worries, massaging gently down the column of Tae’s delicate neck, rough hands, worn tender touching her regardless. Namjoon is rarely ever so pointed, but it's logical, from an alpha's perspective, Tae knows what he hints.

"I think that if your bosses aren't going to protect you from people like that, then I want you to leave your job." Jin gives him a look like, 'Now you know where I'm coming from' but Tae's the important packmate right now.

Tae rolls Namjoon's words around her tongue, her hand loosely twined with his. Namjoon has the steadiest hands out of everyone in the pack and a few minutes ago he repurposed his surgery skills to do her nails. Took off the chipped red and re-did them because Namjoon knows she feels best when her claws are polished. He checks them now. Tapping them lightly to not smudge them.

It's a girl's night, the first girl's night you've ever had with the whole pack. Tae's face is still glossy from the face mask.

“I don’t think I want to quit; I don’t think that would help at all that’s not going to like- solve the world and all its issues.”

“No, but- if it’s making you more sad than happy. Then maybe it’s worth considering.”

Tae knows Namjoon’s not saying that she doesn’t make enough to affect the pack's finances, but that's still the truth. Hobi pulls himself along her other side and you watch him with heavy-lidded eyes.

Hobi presses a kiss to Tae's temple, “All you want to do is write every day anyways, and we just want you to be happy,” 6 heads nod their agreement.

Hobi isn't wrong; The last four weekends in a row Tae has woken up several hours earlier than the pack would usually stir from morning cuddles, just to get a few hours of uninterrupted writing done. She’s also spent nearly every night in her library room, staying up late after the pack has retired upstairs until one of you comes down and wrangles her upstairs. The pack's prettiest alpha needs her beauty sleep.

But is it enough to count on? Is it worth quitting her job over?

You duck down low, kissing the same spot Hobi did, your lips touching just a Tae away. a heavy breath wooshes out of her chest. "Yeah why wouldn't we want you to quit? If you're always here then I can always do this."

Your kiss is gentle, and it tastes like belonging more than Tae would ever be able to write, to describe. A love that makes you feel like you belong is a rare thing. And Tae's hand goes up to tangle in your hair, keeping you there for just a shared breath longer.

The next breath tastes a bit like freedom. It's scary to be free.

(But Tae leaves her 2 weeks' notice on her boss’s desk before the end of the next work day, and she doesn't feel bad about it one bit).

~-~

(1 year prior)

Maybe the truth is that the reason why you don’t feel you deserve agency is because you know what your agency looks like. The choices you’re willing to make when it comes down to it.

The secrets you tell and the lies you have buried deep in your pocket like one of Hobi’s found things. Something you can’t get rid of and cast back into the ocean. No matter how hard you try. There is something about murder that sticks, that stays no matter how many times you try to wash your hands of it.

It's not guilt, because you don't feel guilty for what you had to do.

Being backed into a corner can make someone do a whole hell of alot of monstrous things. And back then Life was monotonous. Back then there was Anguish without change.

Your life went like this: Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Wake up. Meet up with Hyejin. Make poison. Make pastries. Go to the Don’s house. Feed it to them. Listen to Moonbyul tell you to wait. Go home. Get beaten again and again. Get raped every night. On and on and on.

Clean up your blood from the tiles. Clean it from the carpet. Hydrogen peroxide and not bleach. Cover the bruises up with color corrector first before you put concealer over them.

Smile and tell everyone that your husband and you are perfectly happy. There will be a pup on the way soon enough, I'm so lucky to have someone who supports me, and I'm so lucky to have a love like this.

Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Go to sleep and don't cry because then he'll beat you for keeping him awake.

In the darkness that curls around you. Blood going tacky between your legs, you start to dream of wicked sweet things.

What you've been through would be enough to make anyone go crazy, Enough to make anyone consider drastic action. Enough to make anyone consider murder.

Enough for you to slide a pair of small syringes off of Moonbyul’s night desk and a small packet of arsenic too. You know how to make a simple syrup. You know how to mix in arsenic to it, how to make it liquid soluble without breathing it in.

You make it in the fine china and break it after so that you can throw it out without worrying. You get a beating for it but you hardly feel it when Geumjae drags you across the floor by your hair. It hardly breaks your heart when he steps on your ribcage with the intent to break bones because you know what you have to do.

After, with your own blood on your teeth, you make sure to leave it in the bottom of the trash, and ask the cleaning staff not to take it out yet. They're supposed to find it.

You don't care if you die, you just want to make sure the necessary villains are punished. When it comes to blame the person who is most to blame is you anyway. You are simply numb to pain, numb to your own anguish. Numb to the idea of your own death too. Geumjae's already killed you in every way that matters.

Cut off a wolf's head and it still has the power to bite; give a girl an enemy and she'll do dangerous things.

Your meetings with the Don and beta always go the same; gossip, and greetings. Sometimes when you come bearing bruises, they tell you to wait just a little longer.

Go home. Get beaten. Get hurt. Get Raped. Wake up. Just give it time for his temper to settle. Once you're mated it will get better.

Even Moonbyul and Hyejin tell you that planning the perfect crime takes time. That you'll be saved if you only wait. Help is coming.

Bullshit.

You’re tired of waiting for him to kill you, you're tired of waiting to die. You're smarter than all of them because you know exactly how to get everything you want and you're willing to do anything to get it.

The next time Moonbyul and Hyejin take you to the Don and Beta’s house under the guise of afternoon tea, you are prepared for war and dressed with revenge in mind. Your white dress knotted at the shoulders falling in a heavenly sheet, like an avenging angel, neither pious nor sinful.

You are a force of nature and nature does not ask when it takes lives.

What’s worse; the people that enable the abusers or the abusers themselves? Who is more to blame for the pain caused?

You are no longer hiding and you won't let them hide this time. The bruise on your cheek is purple and mottled, the rings of bruises on your wrists from his hands while he held you down.

When you smiled at Geumjae over breakfast this morning, there was only one thought in your mind.

You’re next.

Your agency looks like this; elegantly done hair your skirt a little short for fall. A basket of arsenic-backed goods in a basket as is usual. Fluffy pink cupcakes with the perfect Swiss meringue buttercream in little spirals.

A gentle smile at the beta when she opens her doors for you, letting the monster in, because you’ve been over enough times that she trusts you. You suppose that's your doing too, you've fooled her into thinking you're just another idiot girl who decided to marry rich and didn't bother to consider the strings attached. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, you bare your teeth when you smile.

Hyejin has helped on that front; over the past few months, she has taught you exactly the kind of conversation that the beta likes- the useless conversations about family drama, the small little bits that you let through about your husband’s opinion on which pup is marrying whom, which alpha is good or bad for the packs near dozen omega pups that aren’t mated yet. Which alphas are likely to be a liability? This kind of gossip is all information and strategy.

You might have lied in your call to her and told her you were fearful of one of the younger ones- and a conversation you’d happened to witness on a street corner, a shadowy figure that looked a little too severe not to be the authorities. Of course, these kinds of things have to be handled with discretion and ginseng tea.

The Don does not bother to turn down the TV when you walk in, sitting vulnerable in his recliner with his feet up. It doesn’t appear that he has any sort of inclination or plans to interact with you when you sit here at his kitchen table and talk. Instead, he lounges and watches his sports, loud because his hearing is so bad, nearly deafening.

It’s good. hopefully anyone nearby will not overhear.

You hope that if this goes south before you have a chance to confess that they find the letter you wrote at home; the one that says your husband is the one that put you up to this.

You know that the pack’s retribution will be swift, that any sort of alibi he has will be null and void with the evidence you’ve been leaving. A little trail of breadcrumbs that leads right into a pretty little grave for your husband. Even if you won't be around to see it.

You're already a friend of pain. You already find comfort in it. If they kill you (which they will) then at least it will finally be over.

You wait until the moment you know is coming, when the Don looks over his shoulder at you and comands “Be a dear and bring me one.”

You put one of your artfully created confections on a pretty gold-rimed plate and walk to his side, you lean over to put it in his lap as he indicates. the same way he does every time you come over with sweets.

The lingering hand on your ass is hardly abnormal. behind you the beta's tea cup clinks as she sets her tea down and says nothing. even though you know she notices.

He’s so busy coping a feel he doesn’t notice your other hand, going to the syringe duck taped to your thigh.

It happens quicker than the Don can blink. The most powerful man in the underworld can't be bothered to protect his life for a pretty little piece of ass. You smile down at him, and his hand squeezes the round apple of your behind.

His hand is still on your ass when you whip your arm around with as much force as you can and drive the syringe and plunger into his neck.

You must have hit something in his neck because he barely has a second to splutter before he’s going still and quiet. Mouth falling horrifyingly slack. His breath rattles and his eyes dart as his whole body is paralyzed near instantly, in the time it takes for his blood to circulate.

Two paces, swing, plunge.

The beta barely has a second to scream or stand to attack you. You are so much younger than they are. Your body might be fragile and frail but It’s still stronger than hers. Her brief scream is easily drowned out by the scratch of the TV.

She ends up on the floor, the icing on the cupcakes sticky as she falls into half of them, tossed onto the floor by your brief tussle as you straddle her struggling form. Her pushing gets weaker and weaker and she sobs.

It doesn’t surprise you when you see the black tracery of a dying mating mark itching up her skin.

One thing that the family had always been oh so careful of was to talk only in their mother tongue around you. Secrets are best kept when they’re spoken in foreign tongues. It was a way to isolate you. To make them speak English for you to understand felt like a beholden request. At one point It was a point of insecurity for you, always left out of the loop, always relying on your husband to keep you in the know.

You bend over her as her pushing gets weaker and weaker, the arsenic doing its job, causing numbness and the tingling of extremities before it causes paralysis and then coma and death. Your hair falls in a sheet over the beta’s face.

You’ve studied much over the last few months. Enough that you lean in close over her and speak your words in perfect Korean.

“You look so angry,” you croon softly, dragging a finger down her cheek. Spittle froths at her mouth as she breathes heavily. “You shouldn’t- if you want someone to blame you only need to look in the mirror.”

You lean in close until your lips brush her ear, “it's your fault you see- you're the one who lied" you mimic her voice, making it scratchy, "'just wait a little longer, it will be better for the family if you stay quiet." you laugh, "as if that where true, the only person it benefits is you. You where ready to let him hurt me and kill me if i just stayed quiet."

You wipe away a bit of spit from her lower lip, "You always told me how it was your duty to protect the family- but you only serve yourself. If you'd have done something, if you'd have helped me I wouldn't have had to do this. You just wanted me to shut up and die quietly.”

You switch back to English, “Well now it’s your turn.”

You watch her tongue go numb, paralyzed, but the poison hasn’t advanced far enough for her not to speak.

“Fucking- worthless bitch.”

You laugh and stand brushing some crumbs from your skirt. She’s already too weak to move, to shout, or fight you. You watch the light start to leave her eyes, winking out so slowly, like a dying star. But she still looks so pissed.

“You don’t have a right to be angry, you killed me first. You can’t blame me for fighting back.”

She gives her last breath and the TV plays on. Your shoe ticks her hand, her fingers twitching weakly. You watch as she gasps her last breath, a small smile on your face.

You sit at the table and turn the TV down. You wait a few minutes, but it quickly becomes an hour. You have yourself a nice little treat while you watch, turning the channel to a food network while you eat.

You really are a fantastic cook. The crumb on this batch is so nice you don’t even taste the metallic tang of poison. You eat through one, and then another, until the whole basket is empty.

Before you know it there is a concerned knock at the door. The lock clicks and turns when you answer it.

When Moonbyul opens the door, you laugh at the expression on her face. Licking the frosting from your lips. Even that is delicious.

She takes in their bodies, crumpled on the floor the frosting on your cheeks. The evidence. Both of them dying. A violence you cannot undo.

Her voice is somber. “Oh Pup, what have you done?”

~-~

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Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

~-~

Notes:

this chapter is a very classic bily chapter, in the fact that there is a fuck ton of fluff and then bang the mafia bits just take you out. we needed to get back into the mafia bits of the story sooner rather than later though 💀

i felt like i was going a little too over the top with certain bits of puptalk in this chapter, but i really wanted to use it to show that like yeah- the pack has been treating her alot more gently since her breakdown, they've been babbying the fuck out of her, even if we don't get to see it :(

Hobi's texts are so???? Fucking cute?? He's so hopeless my god he wants to make her feel loved without actually saying it and i hope you read them and just go "oh, you're an idiot."

I have this whole elaborate backstory to how wonho's gym works with monthly subscriptions to classes where people can decide how many classes they want to take a week, ie gym dues for facilities and then discounted classes on top if they pay for it before hand, with several tiers.

this chapter almost feels clerical- this is definitely more of a set up chapter- where i needed to check off a lot of boxes, like hobi's courting present- before we go any further into the story. things are going to start amping up in terms of stakes pretty quickly.

That one part, where hobi is kinda malfunctioning after the m/c touches his cheek and everyone teases him feels the most representative of the pack as a whole. like that part where they're all replying- feels very real. i struggle a little to capture a sense of domesticity in concise ways, but i think this part is very tidy.

That little touch with hobi- where he touches her wrist and her finger, that touch has so much weight to it, i personally think the whole pack was tasting the sexual tension on the air, can you guys feel it too or is it all in my head?

idk why yoongi calling tae babygirl makes me so flustered but it does 🥵

i really wanted to work calling tae mommy into the chapter someway but tbh this chapter felt complex enough without it.

there is like- one plot hole in this whole story, and that is in the first chapter of the story when yoongi gets a call the person on the other line says "grandfather is dying." implying that his death wasn't instantaneous like this is shown to be. however, in my mind- the injections don't actually kill the don and beta but plunge them into a coma that they never wake up from- is this an actual possibility with arsenic poisoning- NO IT ISN'T lol, you're just going to have to suspend your disbelief for me.

the m/c has always been the person who killed the don and the beta- i've known this since like...maybe the 4th chapter? it wasn't in the og og plan for the story but almost everything in bily has been hammered out since then. and tbh you already knew she killed them just not that it was this violent! does this count as a secret???? idk! maybe!!!

she's a little murder baby just like minnie <3

#bts a/b/o #bts x reader #bts mafia au #bts poly au #bts omegaverse au #bts polyamory au #bts #bts fluff #bts au #bts gang au #bts hurt/comfort #bts werewolf au #bts angst #bts fanfic #bangtan #bts imagines #bts fic #bts fanfiction #jungkook x reader #yoongi #namjoon #jeon jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok fic #hobi #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin fluff #jungkook

[cheriladycl01]

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P6

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid.

Credit to countingstars-17 for the GIF

Of course your time in South Korea with Charles had to come to an end eventually, you guys had made the most of the sight-seeing and even managed to meet up with Carlos and Lando before all heading to Japan, you guys went straight to the track on Thursday for media duties.

Throughout the weekend it seemed you were the only one actively looking out for Charles, when you were walking through the paddock with your PR manager, you weren't listening to her. Your eyes tracked every individual person around you, trying to get a glimpse of the one face you wanted to see.

However, whenever you did spot Charles, he was never looking at you. He's be talking to a mechanic, or Joris, or Fred, or fans, or the latest celebrity in the paddock, but he never glanced over at you.

The first time you'd spotted him, you'd shouted his name and ran over to him with a big grin on your face. You didn't know who it was that he was with, but when you went to pull him in for a hug, he almost felt like he just leaned into the side not really paying much attention.

You then felt embarred at how you'd childishly run up to him, you knew that was an issue for you, for the first time in years the Grid was aging rather than putting their trust in rookies. Charles was now 28, you were 22 so there were obvious differences in how you both acted but you didn't think it would affect it this much!

FP1 was shocking, the car had no grip on the Japanese race track and you were all over the shop. But it wasn't just the car's fault. Mentally you were else where, cringing at the thought of what Charles possibly said to the people around him once you'd left.

FP2 wasn't any better, coming in 18th fastest on the grid. Everyone was frustrated, they couldn't work out what was wrong. You were frustrated with yourself and the team were frustrated that they couldn't work out what was wrong with you.

FP3, again wasn't much better, it got to the point where you were forced to go to the medical tent because you weren't being yourself at all.

You sat there while the doctor did his tests, everyone thought it would be a wrist or shoulder twist that was messing you up, but you told them you were fine. Of course the German team refused to not give the best to their young driver, so one of the mechanics and social media team sat with you waiting.

"Well, you seem fine physically. Blood pressures normal, you've not reported any strains or pains, anything going on up here?" he asks tapping the side of your head lightly.

"I'm fine, just an off weekend." you mumble, not only were you annoyed that your lack of confidence in yourself was giving you a lack of confidence of your driving and decision making.

"Give me 5 minutes!" he says leaving the room, he comes trotting back in with another man, who looks to be more casually than the doctor.

"Hello!" you smile quietly at the young man, a similar age to you, maybe slightly older.

"Hi Y/N, Dr Martin tells me that maybe you'll benefit from me" he smiles taking a seat in the chair opposite the one you were in.

"Hmmm?" you ask confused.

"I'm a specialized sport athlete related therapist. I think you are going through a down week, and I want to help you. Free, and off the books for this convo, then we can talk about potentially any needed in future sessions" he offers.

Talking to him about everything was actually really relieving, you were able to confide in him in a judgement free zone. Of course Charles ignoring you was the tip of the iceberg, but there had been underlying issues since you'd been announced as coming into F1.

You left the session with a clear mind, using the pointers he gave you when you left the room to get back to the Audi garage and to start Qualifying.

"Hey, I heard you went to the medical tent, everything okay?" Alex asks with Lily by his side.

"Erm yeah, nothing's wrong. Ready to race!" you grin at him, before pulling your race suit up and tightening it. You had your social media manager do your hair in a low plait before pulling your balaclava over the top, you were hopeless when it came to your hair under your helmet.

You walk out to where you car is pulling you helmet on it was a nice and new special one for Japan, decorated pretty and pink with cherry blossom which you new everyone would go crazy for.

Qualifying was crazy, you managed to get through Q1 coming in P5, which shocked everyone. You were driving like a completely different person than you were for the last two days. Q2 and you came P1, you flew round the lap, you and the car flying round the corners and pushing hard along the straights. Q3 and you placed P2, not a pole but there you were front row on the grid next to Lando Norris in P1 and Yuki Tsunoda in P3.

If you got a good start tomorrow, maybe just maybe you could take your first win.

Everyone congratulated you on a phenomenal drive, starting on the front row tomorrow while defending from Yuki and Charles behind you. Most of the interviews people could tell you'd been breathing a different air since you came out of the medical tent.

Two unidentified team principles put in a complaint asking for a drug swab on you as your change in driving was almost instantaneous making the FIA launch an investigation into you and Audi over the weekend.

"What happened in the medical tent Y/N, we need to know to let the FIA know..." your manager says on the Sunday, you'd had a good night sleep only to wake up to all the allegations and the investigation into Audi.

"I, I just met with the therapist, the reason I wasn't driving the best was because I've been struggling with the pressures that come with being an F1 driver, it's very different than F2. I didn't know it was illegal to ask for help..." you sass, not wanting to hear anything more before going out to do the track walk. You remain silent, thinking about everything going on, when you walked past other teams you heard the whispers, and the rumors coming from them.

"Y/N is it true?" you hear from your left as your walking back to the Audi hospitality to get lunch before the race starts.

"Sorry?" you twist turning around to see Charles and Carlos stood on the steps of the Ferrari motorhome.

"That's you've been using performance boosting drugs?" Charles frowns crossing his arms in a disappointed kind of way.

"You've got to be shitting me right now. Sorry I have to get to the Audi garage, I don't have time for this" you say turning away and walking off, but an arm reaches out and grabs yours.

"Tell us" Charles says.

"Let go of me Charles, it'd fine if you want to go round believing stupid rumors but i thought after the weekend in Korea you'd know the kind of person I am" you raise your voice. You rip your hand away before going back to Audi. You storm into your drivers room, trying to hold back the tears until they just fall out. You sit down on the edge of the sofa in there, turned away from the door.

"Y/N time to get in the car" a voice calls out knocking on your door. You primitively pull your helmet on, so no one can see the tear stained cheeks and your watery eyes.

"The FIA have come to a conclusion about your case, we just heard but it wont come until after the race" you engineer says pulling you to one side away from everyone else.

"That's a good thing, they are still letting you race. Which means they've taken on board your toxicology report and see you are clean, they've also got statements from everyone involved and Andrea is asking for a formal apology to you" he explains, you just nod, getting into the car and taking the wheel from him.

The race was, well. You crashed out actually going into turn 11. You were defending from Lando and Max who had made his way up the grid when they both tried to over take you either side. They pinched you in on the tight turn neither of them giving you room to move, and your wheels got destroyed. You were sent flipping over crashing into Lewis's front wing on the way. The race was red flagged, giving Lewis a change to fix his front wing and any damage that occurred to Lando and Max's car.

With the DNF, you were rushed straight to the medical tent to be checked out. After the rest of the day was a blur, the FIA confirmed a 10 second stop go penalty for both Lando and Max, as it was a very dangerous crash that caused you injuries and the car significant damage.

Your PR manager came with you for media duties as you were a little, spacey from the pain medication they'd given you and you weren't 100% capable of understanding things.

"So Y/N, it's been an interesting race today lets look at the finish board" he says handing you the clipboard knowing you probably wouldn't remember the lay out.

P1 - Yuki Tsunoda in Alpha Tauri

P2 - Charles Leclerc in Ferrari

P3 - Oscar Piastri in Mclaren

P4 - Alex Albon in Audi

P5 - Max Verstappen in RedBull

P6 - Lando Norris in Mclaren

P7 - Liam Lawson in Alpine

P8 - George Russell in Mercedes

P9 - Logan Sargeant in Williams

P10 - Lewis Hamilton in Mercedes

P11 - Carlos Sainz in Ferrari

P12 - Zhou Guanyu in Williams

P13 - Daniel Ricciardo in Alpha Tauri

P14 - Kevin Magnussen in Haas

P15 - Fernando Alonso in Aston Martin

DNF- Y/N in Audi

DNF - Lance Stroll in Aston Martin

DNF- Pierre Gasly in Alpine

DNF - Valtteri Bottas in Haas

DNF - Sergio Perez in RedBull

"Yeah it was, imagine driving 47 laps of a 53 lap race in 3rd, 2nd and 1st to crash out" you try to joke but it comes across blunt. Your PR manager explains your not angry just disappointed.

"Yeah, it was a spectacular race from you Y/N and I assume your happy with the statement the FIA released about you?" he asks and you look to your manager in confusion.

"I've been in the hospital all this time, I haven't been told anything" you admit, looking confused.

"They cleared the allegations, and explained the real reasoning why you were in that tent, and that your toxicology results came back clear. How did it feel to be accused?" he asks, pushing the mic closer making you flinch back a little.

"If I'm being honest ... this weekend has been the shittiest weekend of my life and I'm just glad its over. I'm going home and I'll see you all in Australia" you mumble, but the interviewer wasn't done.

"Just one last question Y/N did your team-mates and other colleagues fight against what their teams brought forward or were they in on these false allegations?"

"Considering my name has come out of everyone and their sons mouth this weekend its safe to say I know who is fake as fuck" you frown. You walk off like a boss, sticking your middle finger up when he goes to ask you another question.

"Okay, home time! You are most definitely not of sound mind to be doing this" she frowns pulling you away.

Alex had been there for you through the whole weekend even when 'evidence' to help the allegations came forward. Same with Lando and Daniel, but the people who really shocked you Like Charles, Carlos, Lewis, Sergio and Max who all had something to say were the ones that hurt the most.

"Australia's in two weeks. Come back with a completely new mindset yeah?" your PR admits rubbing your shoulders before sending you on your way.

You make one last phone call before you get into your Audi to drive to the hotel.

"Hey Chris, about those therapy sessions... how do i start paying for them?"

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #charles leclerc #charles lecrelc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine #cl16 one shot #cl16 x you #charles lecrelc

[mandyarin]

Spring has come to me

Shohei Ohtani x Reader (female pronouns)

Synopsis: A story of love between the team physician and the superstar of the team.

Author's note: Hey y'all this is my first ever fic! I have been reading fics since forever and have been contemplating on making my own for the longest time and well my first piece is dedicated to Shohei Ohtani, since not much people write for this talented gorgeous man, I figured why not. Feedbacks are highly appreciated, altho pls don't be mean :< i didn't check for grammar or punctuation mistakes so I'm sorry for dat :>> there might also be some mistakes abt team technicalities and dynamics sooo :3

Working as part of the Dodgers' medical team was not really the dream but the opportunity was dropped into your lap and you'd be a fool not to take it. Spring training has started but not everyone on the team has been on the field as consistently as the star player of the team, Shohei Ohtani. Without fail he has been on the stadium even before beginning spring training. As part of the medical team you have been corresponding closely with the rehabilitation personnel that works closely with the players, most notably Shohei. It was slightly different from working in a hospital but certainly a lot less work and stress. Although the higher ups breathing down your neck making sure the star was going to be alright might be causing you a headache. You weren't much for baseball or sports in general, what with being an over achiever who seeks validation through academics, never having much extra curricular unless it involves the academe, despite that though, you have certainly heard of the name Shohei Ohtani and the ripples of his achievements.

You were at your office, contemplating the best course of care to be administered to common baseball injuries and rehabilitation, personalized treatment, the best apparatus to use. Your mind running through every possible scenario and making contingency plan for each. Not only is your skill and credibility as a professional on the line but also a player's professional career. Everything has to be perfect. Nothing more, nothing less.

A knock came through the door, "Come in" you called.

"Hey would you like to meet the players? They're out on the field right now, I figured we introduce you", Called out a staff member as he entered through the door.

"Yeah, sure. Let me just save this and I'll be right out."

There wasn't much distance to walk out on the field, you see the long stretch of players talking amongst themselves, stretching, checking out their equipments.

"Alright, everyone listen up. This is the new team physician joining us this season. She will be corresponding with the medical staff and personnel in ensuring the best care and treatment for every single one of you. She is one of the best in orthopedics. I expect that you guys will heed her advices regarding to your health." The team manager gathered everyone near him and had me introduce myself to everyone present.

Everyone had the opportunity to introduce themselves, accompanied by a handshake. Soon it was the superstar's turn. A hand that shook yours in greeting, dwarfing it in his roughed up hand. He gave you a smile that reached his eyes, you like his eyes, you decide. Like crescent moons as he gives a slight chuckle.

It wasn't all that hard to get occupied with Shohei's matters, you had to correspond with his surgeon about his recent surgery, you had to be in constant communication with the physical therapist in charge of him and you had to plan and administer the best care for his current state. One might say that you are too focused on him despite being the team physician but that is just the effect of having a $700 million player in your care. Not a thing spared if it's for his well-being. Besides he's the only player in the current roster with the most recent surgery done and you'll be damned if he's not good to go when the season starts.

Being in close proximity with him made you realize things about him. The talent he has and the grit he puts in everything he does on the field makes him the amazing player that he is, you have not seen someone as dedicated as he was in their craft. He's meticulous in his actions, moves with intention. Careful and purposeful. When he is off the zone, his laughter rings, albeit like a hyena. Wide smiles and the carefree way he carries himself. So carefree but so sure. You have never seen him look like he was out of place in his new team. He always looked like he belonged where he is, wherever might that be. An energy so magnetic but the type of magnetism that pulls you in slowly, carefully, like a smooth caress and then when you least expect it you were pulled into his orbit and you were none the wiser.

It started when he would be in your space. Rushing towards you as he finishes his set, like he has a special radar that is exclusively for you. Whether you're observing him or the other players or talking to other staff members. Nothing will stop him from going to you. Smiling down at you with a boyish smile, engaging you in conversations like "What have you been up to?", "Are you here to supervise?", "Are you here to see me?", "I'm gonna practice my batting today, can you check my form?". It flustered you at first but it has been such a common occurence that it has failed to phase you anymore.

Then, he would message you outside working hours. Sending pictures and videos of his adventures with Dekopin, fully taking advantage at the fact that you are weak for cute animals. You guys would talk about the everyday mundane things like the weather, food, hobbies and many other things. Then came more personal questions that dug deeper to reveal more of each other. A peek inside this amazing athlete, the person inside. Grasping the melancholy he feels, the little joys in his days, the trepidation that tomorrow brings, the pressure of the pedestal that he was put on. He seemed a little more human, a little more relatable. A little more like a boy who dreamed big and is now living it but still grasping at what was lost.

Then came the invites. Inviting you outside working hours for food, hanging out at his home, tagging along at Dekopin's vet appointments and anywhere else you could think of. Of course, there is definetely skepticisms and wariness with all these invites. He was a man who has his whole country watching him through the media's lenses, whether it be from reputable sources or the tabloids. For him to be seen with a woman was a sentence. Sentenced to be lump into rumors and gossips. The man of the hour and his partner. It was a headline just waiting to happen. But you reasoned with yourself. Surely they are aware that you are one of the team physicians, right? Surely they'll think it's just an appointment outside working hours, a bit unconventional but people wouldn't think you guys are together, right? Right. No one will think so. You were just a team doctor hanging out with one of your team's player, nothing more. You said in your head like a mantra, as you accept his offers to go out. Truly hoping for it to be the case.

The realization came to you on a quiet night. You didn't mind the closeness of Shohei, you didn't mind that he would come running to you whenever he sees you, in fact you enjoyed seeing him jog to you and grace you with that ever so handsome smile of his. He fills your head with mindless ramblings and chats, you think you would hate it since you have learned to value silence as your companion but you found out you didn't. His voice and presence now accompanies you too. You found that you didn't mind being linked to him. You didn't mind if your face or name will be plastered on a headline on Japanese newspapers or tabloids by tomorrow. You didn't mind people writing about you and your relationship. It really doesn't matter. What matters is if he is happy, it matters if he is comfortable with you accompanying him to whatever and wherever and well, he is happy, he is comfortable. What matters is that you love him. You have learned that Shohei has wormed his way to your heart slowly but surely and he is there to stay, taking hold of a chunk of your heart. Ready to hold his hand tightly and face the world. Courageously love and be loved.

Shohei was intrigued by you, you were young, the youngest physician he has seen on the team and yet you managed to be one of the best orthopedic in the country and landing a job at Dodgers, well he might have also been struck by your outwardly appearance and honestly he isn't shy to admit that. You are beautiful.

You are a constant presence in his training, checking up on him and the others, taking special care of him and his recent surgery. He noticed how you're a little stoic, maintaining that air of professionalism like an armor, your brilliance showing through the improved physical care of the players and everyone surely took notice of it. But you were also coy, giving him small smiles or chuckles when he finds courage to talk to you or when you're assisting him on his rehab exercises, putting slight pressure on his forearms and chest, eyes shyly meeting his. It never fails to makes his heart flutter like a teenager.

You had a strong wall built around you, from past hurt, perhaps? He doesn't know but he vowed to himself that he will do anything to break it down or climb his way up over to you. Meticulously planning everything to give his heart and to have yours.

Shohei figures that you love cute and loveable things and he thinks Dekopin could be the best wingman for the job. He was cute and loveable, the perfect tool, the perfect excuse to message you. He knows you couldn't resist and from then on he would talk and talk until you'd answer, he didn't mind waiting he knows you're busy and he knows you might not be used to it. It's okay he'll glady start the conversation if it means getting to talk to you. He's patient and he will wait until you come around. The conversations turn personal at one point and he saw a little more of you. The anxious, perfectionist that is a tad bit hard on herself. A tortured genius, if you will. He can sympathize with you in that regard, with both being young people on such peaks of successes, people from your respective fields waiting on your next moves, ready to pounce when the chance arises. It's exhausting but he figured he wouldn't mind being exhausted together.

Shohei knows he's always being watched, he knows paparazzi are lurking at corners near the stadium, near his home, and wherever places he frequents to. He admits it is a little selfish of him to invite you to his home, or wherever outside work. He knows there is a big possibility of getting caught and photographed but he couldn't give a damn. He doesn't care if people speculates about his romantic life if it is with you. He doesn't mind giving out a statement that you and him are at a stage of getting to know each other. He doesn't mind declaring to the world that he only has eyes for you. He knows he's selfish, the press might hound you and pick you apart so he's careful when inviting you out. Always at odd hours, using an unusual and discreet car, making sure to cover your face when arriving and leaving his home. Yes, he is selfish but he is not to put you in any kind of pressure and danger. He cares about you too much to be too selfish.

On a perfect breezy midnight of spring he received a call from you, asking him if he was awake. His heart quickens, mouth dries a little, he answered you "Yes", with a light waver in his voice.

"Alright, wait for me, I'm coming over."

"Okay, I'll be waiting for you. Be safe."

His heart stutters in his chest, you have never called him first, never initiated on coming to his house, he was a little scared but your voice seems resolute like there is something that has to be done and he hopes deep deep in his heart that it is what he think it is.

You came knocking on his door after a few minutes and Shohei almost falls over trying to get to the door to get you. And there you were in your full glory, a little disheveled in your most comfortable sweater and sweats. The breeze caressing your hair, your skin. Shohei can't believe that he starts to get a little jealous of the way the breeze kisses you and be so upclose to you. You also take him in, in his loungewear shorts and thin sweatshirt, tousled hair and a slight pink tint to his full cheeks.

"May I come in?"

He's stunned for a little bit then clears his throat and replies, "Of course, come on in. Don't mind the mess Dekopin just destroyed another one of his toys".

As you guys shuffled inside his home, the air stills and there's an undeniable tension between the two of you. Shyly meeting each other's gaze for a minute and like magnets you draw towards each other. Timidly, you put your hands against Shohei's chest, both your hearts jumping out of your ribcages at the action.

"Is this okay?", you asked looking up at him through your eyelashes. Eyes flitting between his eyes and his lips. Shohei noticed the action and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing you impossibly closer to him, he needs to feel you, he needs to feel your skin on his, your breath on his skin, your lips on his.

"Yes", he replied as he carefully places one of his hand on the back of your head. Slowly inching towards your lips.

"Is this also okay?", he asked lips almost touching yours as he spoke. You didn't waste your time and finally have your lips meet in a sweet embrace that slowly deepened into a dance of lips flitting at each other. The kiss was sweet and sensual, just like him, you think. The kiss was everything the both of you have hoped for. A kiss that says everything and a kiss that seals everything. You finally break away from each other to catch your breath, but lips still touching each other, exhanging breathes, panting on each other's lips.

"Thank you for being patient with me. I love you." You said to him, lips touching his as you speak. He gives you a long peck.

"I'll be here always waiting for you, I love you too. I love you." He utters to you sweetly, saying the last part in his native tongue. Conveying all the love he has in those words. He hopes that you can feel his sincerity, if not then he'll just have to show it to you every time until you can feel it.

Truly, spring has come and bloomed love both to you and Shohei.

A/N: I've been inspired by what the phrase "Spring has come" mean to both Korean and Japanese language ik its not yet spring but yeah I just rlly wanted to write about this. Hope you guys enjoyed it <3

#shohei ohtani #shohei ohtani x reader #ohtani shohei #shohei ohtani imagines #mlb imagines

[callofdudes]

i beg for Ghost angst pleAse

idea: GhostxReader get engaged! Reader d!es and Ghost is just not himself anymore

Missing half of me.

I hope you enjoy it, I love angst 😊

Cw: Angst, death, violence, dissociation, overdose of anti-depressants, depression.

Summary: You were one of the last things Simon had, and without you he crashed and burned.

Dear God he wished he could kill the sick fuck that did this. Why did he have to find out this way? You'd not been engaged two weeks and now you were gone. His fingers ached remembering how he held you after you'd said yes, how he pulled you close and kissed you until if felt like nothing else in the world mattered anymore.

Well now he was feeling the exact opposite. The world didn't matter. You were gone. Dead. The only thing he had left in his life was gone. You'd been ripped away from him like everyone else. Like the universe didn't want him to be happy.

He didn't deserve happiness.

You'd been attacked by some men who notoriously were out to get Ghost. They intended to kidnap you and use you as leverage against him, but when you fought back, they lost control and beat you so bad you were barely halfway to the hospital before you succumbed to your injuries.

Simon mourned the rest of the month. He cried every day until he felt his heart clench and the air forced from his lungs. He choked on tears as he found any sort of strength to yell and fight.

He drove his fist into the mirror in the bathroom after trying to take a shower. He'd always been repulsed by his own image but now he didn't even want to know his own face.

His knuckles bled profusely as glass stuck in his skin and pieces of the mirror lay everywhere. His hands trembled as he lost control, unable to keep himself calm for two seconds. He'd find those men, he'd find them and he'd kill them.

Once he returned to base he wasn't himself. Price remembers when Ghost crawled out of his own grave and tore at the desert sands. He was never the same man.

But this wasn't Simon. Nor was it Ghost. Simon had truly lost. There was nothing left. There was nothing. Every wall Ghost had seemingly built up had crumbled and he had no energy to bring them back up.

First it was the violence.

Ghost was much quicker to anger, finding him in the gym working at the punching bag until he physically wasn't able to move his arms. He'd train until his hands bled.

He snap at other soldiers quicker, resorting to violence faster. Snapping his hands around recruits throats, choking them until they no longer even looked in his direction again.

Price had to amp up Ghost's therapy sessions. Three times a week. But that was going nowhere. Whenever he was asking anything about you or how he was feeling it's like Ghost went into overdrive. He had no energy to put up walls, his mind had nothing there to stop the floodgate.

He just shut down. His mind felt far away, his body so close yet so far. His thoughts were empty. His thoughts weren't even his own at this point. His therapist would tap his shoulder but that never helped. It was so bad that barely anything could pull him from the deep depths of his dissociative state.

He'd stare off into the distance even as Johnny came to his side, kneeling next to him and gently cupping his head and bringing it to his warm chest. Even as he comforted his friend Ghost didn't come back.

Johnny stayed. Johnny rubbed his back, softly whispering and keeping him close and warm while the others left the room.

"I'm here Ghost. It's ok, it's just me."

Finally he spoke, his voice trembling as he finally held onto Johnny. "Y/n...??"

Johnny's heart broke as he hugged Ghost a little tighter. "No Ghost.. I'm sorry it's only me. Johnny, just Johnny."

Ghost whimpered, tears rolling down his cheeks as he pulled Johnny into his arms. He didn't look up at his face, not wanting to ruin the sweet illusion that he's you.

The warmth, the comfort of his hands on his back. Some things are off but that doesn't matter. He's holding Johnny and he wishes so dearly it was you.

John seemed to understand and held onto Ghost as tears flowed down his cheeks.

He didn't want to look up. He didn't want to shatter the illusion. He didn't want to lose you. You were everything in his world and he wanted to maybe start a family like you'd always wanted. He'd always said he'd start a family just because of you. He hates kids but for you... For you he would have done anything. He'd climb the tallest mountain and swim the deepest ocean just to reach you. To pull you back into his arms and hold you until he forgot the world ever did this to him.

Johnny hugged him tightly. "I'm sorry Ghost. But I'm right here if you want to talk?"

He shook his head, Johnny's voice finally pulling him too far out of the illusion that he couldn't dive back in.

"I'm sorry." Johnny whispered.

Ghost pulled his arms away, letting Johnny out of his embrace and finally saw his face, smashing whatever little imagination he had into smithereens.

"I just want them back-" he choked out, more tears falling down his face. "Why did they have to leave too!?"

"Ghost..-"

"It's taken away everything I ever cared in this damn world! It doesn't want me to be happy! It didn't stop when I was tortured and burned and buried! It didn't stop when my father abused me!"

"And yet it took away the only family I cared about. And now the person I was going to call mine for the rest of my life!"

Johnny blinked, surprised at the outburst. "The universe doesn't hate you." He sat down next to Ghost and wrapped his arms around him again. "No, no it doesn't hate you."

He rocked Ghost back and forth, holding onto him so he didn't have to hold onto himself. Ghost was completely limp. Not an ounce of fight left in him. At least... At least Johnny is here. Still a light in his world. But nothing when compared to you.

Johnny was a few stars you were the whole night sky.

Price got Ghost on some more medication. Usually when something like this is fresh Price gets him more just to help slow him down and numb everything out for a bit. He didn't want to do it, it was awful. But it was the only thing that worked.

So Ghost was put on a higher dosage. Taking a couple pills every few weeks.

He was done with this. He felt gross, the pain was still there no matter how numb the pills made it feel. He felt his hands trembling as he tried to take his morning dosage. His water glass tipped and shook in his hand as he held the pills to his mouth.

He couldn't do it. He shoved them in his pocket and walked away.

Price was up next, nodding to him as he went to the fridge. "Did you remember your pills?"

"Yes." Ghost replied, scrolling through his phone.

He'd originally had his phone background as you and him. You'd gone on a long hiking trip and took a photo together at the top. He had to get Johnny to change the wallpaper to a black screen in the meantime because every time he saw that amazing smile and the warm glint of excitement in your eyes he would burst into inconsolable tears.

He'd even started to blame himself. It was the little things. Little jabs and thoughts in his head. And then they consumed him, plagued him into exhaustion from lack of sleep.

If you hadn't been with such a trainwreck of a man. If you had dated someone out of the military. Simon Riley can only hurt what he touches. He's just like his father. No one loves him. You shouldn't either. Loving him got you killed. Simon killed you. He killed the love of his life.

Simon Riley could only hurt. He was born to kill. The world didn't make him a lover. The world would take away anything he tried to nurture.

He'd gotten more reckless on missions. Getting grazed by bullets just to feel something, to hurt himself. He wasn't a warrior, he was a man losing his soul. He would stab the men he fought, wishing it was those men. He'd stab and cut and tear, blood splattering all over him. He'd ruthlessly tear down anything in his path.

And after that, after every mission. Before he had washed away the blood. Before he'd taken off the mask. He came to you as who he truly thought he was. He'd kneel at your grave and beg for you to forgive him for what he'd done. He'd cry, trying not to touch the flowers laid around your tombstone in fear they'd wilt.

He pressed his forehead to the ground and ask for your forgiveness for all those lives he took. Begging you to still love him despite all the blood he'd spilled.

And then he'd force himself to leave and wash away the blood. Wash away the guilt. Wash away the responsibility of all the families that would hear of the death of their sons and husbands. It was a passing thought. Only a killer wouldn't regret or linger on his kills.

After another long mission, Simon came back and after his debrief he went to your grave. He kneeled, rereading your name over and over in his head. Y/n L/n. Y/n L/n...

He was so close to giving you his name. To continuing the Riley family that has died so many years ago.

The Riley family didn't deserve to continue. A heritage of blood and violence and abuse. No. No the Riley family didn't deserve to live, and someone like you didn't deserve to carry it.

He bowed his forehead to the ground, trembling as he begged you one last time for your forgiveness. That you'd still place your loving hands on him even after everything he's ever done.

Would he even go to the same place you would?? Probably not. You didn't deserve the same date he did. You deserved clean waters and soft pastures with other loving people. A place you could connect and be happy for eternity. You deserved the wonderful sounding place they called heaven.

He didn't.

He walked back from your resting place and made it to his room. He didn't wash off, he didn't clean himself. He would be judged for the monster he was.

He opened his nightstand drawer and pulled out the bottle of pills he'd made for himself after so long of skipping medication. 34 pills. It was all he needed.

He filled a cup with water and brought it to his room. He sat down on the floor and started to down the pills, one swallow after the other he emptied the bottle and laid on the floor.

He felt awful. Dizzy and lightheaded. He felt numb and pain and anguish. Every emotion he'd been feeling turned up the intensity to 100.

His fingers went numb. Time seemed to slow down. He closed his eyes and prayed that when he woke up he'd either be in the burning pits of hell or cradled in your arms. He could just imagine. He could imagine your gentle kisses placed on his forehead as you combed through his hair. The soft soothing tone of your voice as you held him against your chest.

How much he missed you. How he dearly missed you. It almost felt like your arms were wrapping around him. Pulling him to your warm body and telling him everything would be ok. Kissing his temple as you promised him everything would be alright.

Everything would be alright...

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #angst #simon riley #ghost x gender neutral reader #your gender isnt ever specifically mentioned i should say

[no-m4gic]

Hi! I'm the anom who asked for the autistic reader and I loved your writing! So may I request the same THH characters but with a reader who's try to be the sunshine in their lives (example: help Chihiro to be himself), but is secretly depressed and hide It from them cause reader doesn't want to seem fragile?

Sorry If Is complex XD thx!

i have limited free time so i know im probably never gonna complete (another) request(s) today. also i discovered i have no idea how to write for hifumi and yasuhiro, so i'm gonna blacklist them and replace them with mukuro. felt like this request seemed like a good prompt for nagito and also i feel like i could replace ishimaru's one with komaeda's as an apology.

sorry if you wanted the girls too, i'll get on them as soon as i finish my work- i didn't have enough time to write for them. i'll write for ishimaru, too. sorry for missing a lot of characters!

p.s thanks guys for your support !! i appreciate it sm <33

that's a long title 😨

the tags are such a PAIN

~ mod sitaya

THH CHARACTERS W/ AN S/O WHO IS THEIR SUNSHINE BUT IS SECRETLY DEPRESSED

BYAKUYA TOGAMI

"damnit s/o, why didn't you tell me earlier? you know i wouldn't judge you."

money = happiness to him, so he wouldn't fully understand your pain. he'll still support you though, if you need anything he'll send one of his workers to get it for you.

i mean if you were gone, yeah, he'd definitely be upset, so whenever he couldn't understand, he'll just imagine how he'll be like if you died or something.

he'll hire a personal therapist for you, unless you want him to be your therapist... which trust me, he is not good at.

bro can't even comfort anyone without making them cry more.

since he can't comfort someone psychologically, he'll comfort them physically, though he'll only show displays of affection at home or when you guys are alone, n e v e r in public.

honestly at this point, he won't give a shit if you stain his rich people clothes with your tears, he can buy the same new clothes again.

he's not that desperate, but can you imagine byakuya singing his s/o a lullaby?

not really, but he'll tuck you into bed himself personally if you fall asleep while sobbing your eyes out.

if you don't, he'll ask if you wanna fly out of japan for awhile, on his rich people private jet.

it's the least he could do to repay you for helping him during his dark times.

MAKOTO NAEGI

"s/o. how could you hide this from me? did you think i was going to criticize you...?"

he wouldn't ask the million questions running through his head first, he'd hold you first.

you come before anything.

he'll hold you for as long as you'd like, letting you cry in his shoulder while he rubs your back and pats your head.

since you helped him show the others he isn't an 'omega male' and also chased everyone who bullied him away, he'll return the favor.

he'll tell the teacher that you weren't feeling well and needed some time to rest in your room.

also he'll bring you your homework so you don't have to get it yourself and do tons of paperwork at once after coming back.

you don't need a therapist, you have naegi tell them as your therapist.

he'll listen to you go on for the entire day, and if you need to break down, you can jump into his arms and break down, using his shirt as a handkerchief.

MONDO OOWADA

"damnit... who did this s/o?!"

honestly he might just break down too.

but then he'll tell himself he's gotta be a man, with balls in front of his s/o.

he'll put his coat around you and hug you, telling you that it's alright and you can let everything out.

you can take that in any way.

he feels really guilty whenever he has to leave you for training or a competition.

but he'll always come back with a gift and your favorite takeout.

if you ever wanna cuddle, go find him. he'll be more than happy to have a reason to hold you.

daily compliments whenever you two meet up.

CHIHIRO FUJISAKI

"s/o, it's okay. you're not hopeless, you're filled with hope, you still have so much more potential,"

he'll offer to accompany you to do some activities to keep your mind distracted and also to cheer you up.

something maybe like styling your hair and making it look ridiculous by putting tons of bright, glittery accessories on your hair.

he'd ask if sharing his own insecurities would help, maybe just so you know he has other countless insecurities than just him fearing showing the others he's a guy.

if making your hair look worse than junko's didn't cheer you up, chihiro would make up some stupid games like hop like a bunny into mondo's room or sing one of sayaka's songs outside makoto's room while he's showering.

speaking of sayaka's songs, he'll blast all her upbeat pop songs in the room and you two can dance your heart out.

LEON KUWATA

"i figured. now come here i'm gonna cuddle your sadness away!"

leon would definitely try to remain positive

the only good side would be that he could skip his daily weekday baseball training, since y'know he likes hates baseball.

but no, really, he'd have NO idea on how to comfort someone properly.

he'd ask what he could do to make you feel better.

as well as bring you out to get ice cream.

while you guys are out you may or may not encounter celestia's cat wandering around aimlessly... and bring it back to leon's room.

obviously you guys return her, maybe style her a little, watch leon get scratched by her and so on.

overall at least you recovered quickly and now everyone can see you smile again <3

BONUS ;; NAGITO KOMAEDA

NAGITO KOMAEDA

"oh s/o. you didn't have to hide it from me, hopeless trash like me don't have the right to judge hopeful people like you,"

well now it was his turn to have his clothes stained with tears.

countless outfits of yours have been stained with his tears, because whenever you'd return late (which was always) he'd think you left him or something, and the closest thing he has to you are your clothes.

he's clingy.

and he'll become clingier.

everywhere you go he'll follow you like a lost puppy.

lost puppy literally. he won't just follow you, he'll beg for your attention.

anyway... back to you, once you even mention you were upset he'd pull you into a tight hug.

imagine how long that tight hug would be with depressed.

verrrrrry verrry long.

he'd wish he didn't have to let go of you.

and he wouldn't. you'd have to literally wait for him to fall asleep just to work your way out his arms.

he'll shower you in compliments and bless you with encouragements.

if you wanted he could ask gundham for a cat or dog or something, or he'd blackmail gundham just to "borrow" the four dark devas of destruction for like 10 minutes before giving them back even though nagito would lie and say they'd forever be gone.

you want, he buy. literally, you just have to say "i want this" and you'll have it.

no more despair only hope.

IM SORRY ITS MISSING SO MANY CHARACTERS ANON 😭

#byakuya togami x reader #byakuya x reader #togami x reader #makoto naegi x reader #makoto x reader #ishimaru x reader #mondo owada x reader #mondo x reader #chihiro fujisaki x reader #chihiro x reader #leon kuwata x reader #kuwata x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda x reader

[cryptidfuckery]

Alex's Guide to Being the Best Ever Client at a Hair Salon

Hi my name is Alex and I've been a hairdresser for about 6 years now. Obviously over that time I've come to learn what things clients do that make me very happy to see, so here's some tips on how to be the best ever client and make your hairdresser love you to pieces!

Also please note that this is coming from a relatively independent hair stylist. My salon does not have a receptionist or assistants, just the stylists. All tips should work across most salons though.

BOOKING AND CONSULTATIONS

When calling or otherwise directly messaging a salon or stylist to book an appointment, KNOW WHEN YOU WANT TO COME IN. If you need to check your schedule, do it before or have it open before you make the call. This will speed up the booking process exponentially!

DON'T BOOK A SMALLER COLOR RPOCESS JUST TO GET IN. If you're booking online, do not choose a color process with less time just to fit in to the stylist's schedule if you actually want a longer process. By this i mean not booking a partial highlight when you actually want a full. We will not be able to accommodate you, and will either have to leave you with the shorter process or reschedule you on another day when we would actually have the time to deliver what you want.

UNDERSTAND THEIR CANCELLATION POLICY. I know they can be annoying, but let me put it this way. When you are booking with a stylist, you're not booking a service, you're booking our TIME so we can provide the service you want. If you cancel last minute or no-show, you are costing us money that we could have made back by booking other clients. Especially on big ticket services that take hours. Cancellation policies allow us to y'know... still make rent.

YOU DON'T NEED TO KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT... BUT... Part of a stylist's job is to ask the right questions to figure out exactly what you want out of your color, style, or texture. If you don't know exactly what you want, BE READY TO ANSWER QUESTIONS AND MAKE DECISIONS. We are trying to get on the same page as you so you will leave happy.

If you are coming in for a color that is more work than just an all over color or root touch up (aka single process), please do a tiny bit of research into what you'd like. You don't need to know EVERYTHING, but for reference showing a search for "BRUNETTE WITH HIGHLIGHTS" isn't going to narrow it down as much as a search for "DARK BRUNETTE WITH NATURAL WARM HIGHLIGHTS" would. A good stylist should be able to ask the right questions to get down to what you want, but this will make it much easier and quicker.

On that note, DEAR FUCKING LORD WE LOVE PICTURES, SHOW US PICTURES. BRING US YOUR PINTREST BOARD. SHOW US THAT TIKTOK YOU SAW. It's one sure fire way for us to physically see what you're talking about, and a good starting point to then ask qualifying questions with a reference! It doesn't mean we can 100% make it happen, but it helps us get on the same page you're on and see what you're looking to achieve.

Last but not least, research your stylists! Check what they specialize in, see if you can find any of their work posted online. Finding a stylist can sometimes be like finding a therapist, you have to find the one that's right for you (both in personality and technique). Don't feel bad about switching stylists; if your old one kicks a fuss they weren't the right one for you anyway. You deserve to be taken care of by a person you're comfortable with, and who delivers the service you want to your standards.

The hair industry is. Fucking huge. There's so many of us. You can literally call and book a consultation for a cut or color without getting it done that day. You can do that at 5 different salons before deciding. If they get weird about it just say you had a bad experience with an old stylist that you'd rather not get into. There is always options for another stylist.

BEST BEHAVIOR IN THE CHAIR

#1 thing i wish i could tell my clients without being rude: phone goes away for the haircut. Color is more lax, we don't always need your head in a specific position to apply it. Hair cutting completely relies on the position of the head, especially for the perimeter length of your hair. If you are looking down at your phone the whole time, the haircut will not come out as good. We also will be asking you to move to other positions, so we need at least some of your attention. It's also so we as hair stylists aren't having to contort our body into weirder shapes to cut your hair.

To piggyback off that, it's also because of the cape. Best client thing to do is once that cape is on you, make sure it's draped fully over the arms of the chair you're in. We'll take care of the back. The cape is there to protect you from getting hair or color on yourself, but it can't work unless you are completely covered by the cape. Including arms. (I'm looking at the fucking phone again >:( )

When you are in the sink, your nose should be pointing toward the ceiling while you are being washed. This allows us to not drench your face or neck when we are washing your hairline around your face. If your nose isn't pointing toward the ceiling, ask if you are able to readjust.

Best ever tip for in the sink: if the stylist is lifting your head up to rinse the nape of your neck, do not lift your whole neck. Crane your head forward while keeping the base of your neck secure to the sink. This will help you avoid getting water down your back. Your stylist might cup their hand at your nape, just lean back into it like you were a rag doll. We don't want to get you wet, but you gotta trust us with your head at the sink.

If you wanna get an A+ as a client, watch how they fix the chair at the sink for you to get in. The clients that put their own feet up or adjust themself to the right position (after an appointment or two with them) are my loves. my life. yes babe make yourself comfortable, you're doin my job for me.

If you are looking for extra styling past a blowdry (IE: curling iron or flat iron), let us know at the beginning of the service. This can take more time or is an extra charge, so letting us know in advance can allow us to communicate that to you or make sure we have the time to provide the service you want.

And probably my best tip/hack for all my introverted or neurodivergent people nervous about having to keep up small talk. Before or after the consultation, when they inevitably ask how you are or how your day has been, repeat after me: "I've had a really long day/week and I'm looking forward to closing my eyes, relaxing, and being pampered." This will signify that YOU DON'T WANT TO TALK other than what needs to be communicated. If they press, just say work or school has been really hard and stressing you out, so you booked this to relax and have some personal quiet time. Heavy on the relax people. Then just fuckin vibe bro.

If we ever give you our number to text, ask if we cant coffee. Ouughhghgh give us a coffe we love a fucking coffefee. Or ask your stylist what their favorite treat is. Just lil things like that. It's like an extra tip for us!

FINISHING AND PAYING

So your service is done! Make sure you check it out yourself and ask for any adjustments. Remember, you're the one leaving with your hair on your head, and will have to live with it until you return to the salon. If you need something fixed or adjusted, ask! A good stylist will prompt you.

Ask how tips are accepted. You can do it during the service or at checkout, but asking is always appreciated! Not all salons allow you to tip on card, but cash will never be turned away. Venmo is also extremely common.

I work in the USA where a 20% tip is the norm. If you can't afford that, don't worry. If you can't tip at all, don't worry. We don't know you financial situation, and we are in no place to judge that. You still deserve to get the service you want. More often than not if you talk to us about it, we will absolutely be sympathetic. If your stylist kicks a fuss about a tip they get (or don't get), drop them and find someone else.

That being said... yes we like it when you tip more than 20%. Of course we do, it's more money directly to us for doing our job. But I'll be honest with you, I will go out of my way for a kind client i get along with that tips 5% the same way I'll go out of my way for a difficult client who tips 100%.

If you like us, rebook! By having an appointment already in the system you're guaranteeing a time for you to get back in. And if you can't make it, you can cancel it or reschedule. It will help your stylist's rebooking data, which can help them within the salon depending how the business is set up. Sometimes stylists have to reach a certain percentage threshold of rebooking to move up a level of prices or get a higher percentage of commission.

Last but not least, if you're chatting with your stylist after the service, be aware of two things. 1) do they have their next client waiting for them? 2) are you their last client? If either of these are true, try not to linger. We hate having to do the "Well, I've gotta get to my next client/start cleaning up to go home." This can change as you form a deeper relationship with your stylist over the years (sometimes even a friendship!), but please remember that we are at our job.

As of right now that's all I can think of. If I come up with anything else I'll reblog and add on. And please feel free to shoot me an ask if you have a question I didn't answer here, or want to know more about something I mentioned.

But finally I will leave you with this.

Yes, the hair stylist is the expert in hair. Yes, we can give you advice about your style. But here's the thing. When you walk out of the salon door, we aren't the one's dealing with your hair day to day. Even if you don't think you know a lot about hair, YOU ARE THE EXPERT ON THE HAIR ON YOUR HEAD. YOU are the expert on what you do and don't want to look like. We're the tool to get it done. Remember that!

#mmmm been a while since i made a long ass fucking post like this #hope yall like #please ask clarifying questions if you need it! #also yes this is long as fuck #i am nearly incapable of doing anything else when it comes to shit like this #also i barely proofread it so like. idk. good luck

[prismuffin]

Hello can i get a Connor (Rk800) x engineer male reader scenario, this is after the human vs Detroit war, So imagine the reader is an engineer and some engineer has to stay a life for fixing the Androids but the reader is generaly nice to Android and since connor work usually get him damage so they have met before and have good a friendship. Connor isn't the best at feeling so he always ask the reader for help. One day finally connor confess his feelings by accident because he doesnt know what he is feeling. I hope this is good enough to explain what I am going for because English is not my first language

A/n: your English is totally fine my dude I understood what you meant and I adore the idea😽 hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!!

Overheated

Connor (rk800) x male!engineer!reader

( summary: Connors still getting used to emotions, and after experiencing a strange sensation every time he sees you he decides to ask you about it )

warnings?: Adorably naïve Connor, talks of injuries but very briefly

!-!more under the cut!-!

"Connor, nice to see you again so soon." You smiled at Connor who had just entered your workshop. He returned your affectionate smile with one of his own as he closed the door. You paused what you were working on, removing your protective goggles so you can get a better look at him. "What's it gonna be this time?" You guided him over to an exam table as you talked. "Bullet removal, blue blood transfer, wound welding?" You listed off some previous procedures that you've had to do on him. Connors line of work wasn't the safest job out there and he would constantly decide to take bullets for his team knowing that they can be fixed a bit easier than a human bullet wound. You scold him for this but he says you can't complain since he's paying you to fix him which is true; honestly he comes around so often he could probably singlehandedly keep you in business.

He shook his head and you raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain why he's here. "The reason why I'm here isn't for something physical." He stated and you motioned for him to continue. He glanced away for a second and hesitated. "I- think I may have a virus of some sorts..?" He spoke slowly, like he himself wasn't fully convinced. Viruses for androids act as colds for humans, it can overheat their systems and make them, well, sick. “A virus?” You raised an eyebrow and he gave you one small nod. There was a common Virus spreading amongst the androids at this time so it wasn’t shocking news. “Have you come in contact with any androids that may have had any viruses?” He shrugged and you hummed, grabbing a clipboard. “Alright well, describe your symptoms for me so I can see what we’re dealing with.”

He fixes his posture and clears his throat before speaking again, "Well, I'm not entirely sure it's a virus." One of his hands twitched as he thought about how to word his next sentence. "I don't really have many symptoms...maybe I'm confusing it with a new feeling." He let out a chuckle and shrugged, "I'm still getting used to those." You nodded and smiled understandingly before placing your clipboard down. "Well I'm no therapist but describe it and maybe I can help you place it." You crossed your arms and he smiled, looking down. "Well, I can't really explain it. It only ever happens when I'm around you." Your eyebrows shot up, you weren't expecting that. You felt your body temperature increase as Connor continued to describe his new foreign feeling. "My systems seem to overheat and I feel..happier..? But it's a different kind of happy then what I perceive to be my normal level of happiness." You stood there silently as you took in his words- was he...confessing to you accidentally??? "My thirium pump seems to increase in speed as well and I.." he trails off, glancing at you then the floor then back at you. "I get more nervous, and.." He inhaled as you gave him a lopsided grin.

Walking closer to where he sat, you grabbed his hand and watched as he seemed to freeze for a moment. "Do you find me attractive?" He blinked for a moment, the question had obviously caught him off guard. "I...do find you aesthetically pleasing, yes." He furrowed his eyebrows and you bit back a larger smile. "Connor I think you like me." He narrowed his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing even more. You could tell you'd have to explain it further. "Like a crush." You continued, though the analogy didn't click for him like you'd hoped it would and you sighed. "Love, Connor, you're feeling romantic feelings." You watched as his eyes left yours and searched around for nothing in particular; they eventually landed back on yours and you could swear he started blushing.

"Oh."

That was the only thing that left his mouth for a while and you let the silence surround the two of you while he figured things out in his brain. He eventually squeezed your hand and smiled, "It's a nice feeling." You nodded and his eyes softened "Do you feel it around me too?" You had to take a moment to register his question. From the moment you met Connor you had found him very attractive and the way you worried for him whenever he turned up in your workshop injured even if it was minor didn't stem from nowhere. Over the time you knew Connor you'd both become great friends and you loved spending time and talking with him even if it was when you were removing a bullet from his shoulder. You truly did care for him and like him more than you ever noticed, the thought of dating him was out the picture in your mind. Android and human relationships were still so new you never considered liking Connor in that way, but you did. You looked down at your intertwined hands and smiled, "Yeah...I guess I do." You looked back up at Connor who seemed to perk up hearing that.

You both weren't completely sure where your relationship would go from here but you know you'll have each other either way, and you're fine with that.

----!----

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are OPEN so feel free to request anything! Just make sure you check out my Request Info!

Masterlist

#dbh #detroit become human #dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #connor rk800 #rk800 x reader #male reader #x male reader #connor x male reader #connor x reader #rk800 x male reader #connor rk800 x male reader #connor rk800 x reader #dbh x male reader #detroit become human x male reader #prismuffin #dbh fanfiction #fanfiction

[octuscle]

Hey there! I work as a therapist and a few of us were starting to think of the clinical applications of chronivac. We were wondering if you wanted to work together to develop some presets that our clients could use to de-stress and take a break from their stressful lives. I know we have one stressed out university student who could benefit from something like this.

At Chronivac, we are always interested in collaborating with research institutions. After all, Chronivac is not used just to have fun. It is already being used for the treatment of various physical illnesses and also for resocialization projects. The use in the psychotherapeutic field would be new, but sounds interesting according to the research and development department. If the student they are talking about is available as a guinea pig, perhaps send us a requirements profile for a transformation. And we'll see what we can do….

Research Diary Timothy Walker

Day One: My psychotherapist tells me that my burn-out syndrome has progressed to the point that continuing my business studies is out of the question at this point. In fact, I am having a hard time concentrating. Writing this report is causing me great difficulty; my attention span is only a few minutes. Therefore, an experimental therapy has been decided with the psychology faculty, which is connected with a semester off for me. Under certain circumstances, the semester can be counted as an internship. Everything is fine with me. I am just tired. The work on the research diary was exhausting for me. I need to lie down.

Second day: I slept very well. No wild nightmares as usual. I woke up briefly once or twice at most, but went right back to sleep. Michael, who is in charge of the project as pysiotherapist, thinks that this would be a good starting point to work on my physical fitness. We both went running for an hour. I'm exhausted, I haven't moved that much since I started studying. But I feel good. Made myself a real breakfast for the first time in months according to my new nutrition plan. I'm supposed to spend the rest of the day walking on the beach. Let's see if that clears my head.

Third day: Before Michael came for the training session, I was already in the gym for an hour. I'm really enjoying the physical activity. The beach walk yesterday was great. And Michael was thrilled to see the progress I'm making in terms of fitness. Had the first session with my creativity coach today. Seems a little silly to me. But imagining what I would be doing if I weren't studying business was fun. But I have to admit, my head isn't really getting creative yet. At least writing the diary is already much easier for me.

Day four: I need new challenges. The beach run with Mike is fun, but it's not a sport. That's warming up. We discussed that I would go running alone for an hour tomorrow and that we would meet in the gym of the therapy center. I'm supposed to come without a T-shirt. Mike wants me to learn to love my body. To be honest, I already do. I've already jerked off twice today. And think about sex a lot more than usual. Mike also comes in the process. My creative trainer is also quite cute, but he's too skinny for me. I like men who have a lot of muscle on them.

Fifth day: Fuck, the workout with Mike is awesome! I love the gym from the first minute. Yes, the beach feels my home. But the gym is the place that prepares me for that home. Working out shirtless makes the workout even more intense. i can't get enough of Mike's and my sweat beading on our pecs. But I'm so horny. All the time. During the creative training with Kev it just bubbled out of me today. I would so love to be a lifeguard. Maybe not all the time. But on vacation. And on the weekends. The idea made me even hornier. Poor Kev. He's not my type, but I had to nail him during practice. No idea when I last had sex. but this first time in a long time was incredibly intense. Thank God Kev felt the same way….

Day six: Today is uh free day at da therapy center. Mike n kev are already down at da beach, I wanted to pump up da muscles beforehand. I'm looking forward to da sea n da sand. Both make my head so free. Although I wouldn't feel like my head wuz overly full right now anyway. Pumping, fucking, jogging n swimming. That's really all I'm thinking about right now. Kevin says that I certainly wouldn't have to worry about da practical entrance exams for lifeguards. But I shouldn't underestimate da theory. Shit, studying sucks. But I guess it haz to be.

Day seven: I like it when I have da early shift. Da routine of opening da station is relaxing, da beach is still quiet, da few guests are usually relaxed n in uh gud mood. Wuz one of da best ideas of my life to take uh semester off n work as uh lifeguard. My pal mikey told me to lay off this crappy journal. Somehow I thought it wuz important until now. I can't remember why, either. Anyway. Da main thing is that da surf is gud. Den you can have some fun with da surfers afta work. Hehehehe…

#male tf #muscle tf #chronivac #male transformation #muscle transformation #surfer tf

[araaaa-bella]

Evan Peters x Fem!Reader

Warnings: sad, sensitive topics, self-harm, depression, death of a close family member, anxiety attacks, suicide.

Evan's age: 20 years old.

Bella's age (y/n): 19 years old.

There you were again, hugging your knees in the corner of your room with tears running down your eyes and holding some pretty sharp scissors. Supposedly, according to her therapist, her panic attacks and anxiety would go away if she took her pills, but it only seemed to make them worse. Those little pills made you feel like you were in control, and by not taking them you lost control and didn't know what to do, which always ended with blood on your arms and a girl with very swollen red eyes. You were weak, as this time the cuts were deep and you were losing blood, but you still had the strength to pick up the phone and make a call, you had to call your boyfriend as he knew how to calm you down.

“Evan please answer” you said to yourself with the phone in your hand and blood running down your wrists. “Come on, answer it “ you said and started crying again. A tired voice answered the call.

“Sweetie? What's going on? It's 2:30 am” he said making some small complaints -It seems that I woke him up-.

“Mhhh, I... I'm sorry I shouldn't have called you right now” you said and were ready to end the conversation there, but he spoke again.

“Come on, tell me what happened, It's not normal for you to call me at this time of the morning, are you okay?”

“I don't know what to do” you blurted out and started crying. “I know you always tell me to be strong but I can't stand it, I don't want to be here, you are my only reason to live and I feel like I can't bear all this weight anymore” you said crying harder and harder.

“...” There was a silence.

“Evan?" Are you on the call?”

“Don't tell me you did it again” he said coldly, you didn't answer anything. “I'll go to your house” he said and ended the call.

Less than 10 minutes passed and there was a knock on the door.

“Bella! Open the door please!” Evan wasn't lying when he said he was coming. “Bella, please open me up, I'm worried about you!” You tripped down the stairs, you were bleeding to death. You were very unstable mentally and physically and you wouldn't have more than 10 minutes if you weren't rushed to the hospital. You went downstairs and opened the door for your boyfriend.

“…” He stared at you. “Bella, my God” he said, looking at your arms. “Please, not again” he said and grabbed your arm to lead you to your room.

He went up angry, it wasn't the first time you called him and told him that. He got mad every time he saw those stupid bloody scissors and your bruised wrists, he knew all the problems you had and he helped you through them, but you didn't help much. Going upstairs, he pulled out some bandages and began wrapping them around your forearms.

“Linda... why are you doing this?” He said in a depressed way, he hated having to go to your house to heal you. Shedding a couple of tears, she grabbed her phone and called an ambulance, she had lost too much blood.

“I don't know… I feel like I'm getting worse and worse, I can't get over my mother, my father hates me and I don't have friends, you're the only thing I have left” you said letting some tears fall.

Your mother committed suicide when you were 5 years old because your father was unfaithful to her and she couldn't bear that pain. After what happened with your mother, your father became a fucking alcoholic, drug addict and abuser, he could never touch you but he hit you a lot. Every time he came home from "work" he beat you to death then drank 6 cans of beer and passed out you had to take responsibility for a long time but then you stopped caring and stopped caring about him to worry about the. its. Your mental health got worse and you stopped eating, Evan helped you with everything, he made you eat again and you worried about your health, but you always fell down.

“Honey, just promise me something... don't leave me, I don't know what I would do without you” Evan said making your eyes sparkle.

“I don't know if I'll last a little longer” you said sleepily, your vision blurring -oh no, not this-.

“Bella, hey, don't fall asleep” Evan said, shaking your shoulders. “Hey! Don't fall asleep please! The ambulance will arrive!” he yelled but it was useless, you were no longer with him. “Bella please answer me! I need you with me!” Evan hugged you and cried, he cried a lot, the love of his life had abandoned him.

He was clear about what was going through your mind, but he never thought about what would happen if you were no longer with him. He took you in his arms when he heard noise outside, the ambulances had arrived. Still hoping you might survive, he took you to the first floor as best he could and opened the door, letting the paramedics put you on a stretcher and try to revive you, but all that effort was useless, you had already bled to death.

“Sorry boy, there's nothing we can do, she lost too much blood” the paramedic told Evan.

“No… please, try something else, I know something else could work” replied the totally devastated boy.

“Sorry, there's nothing we can do” he said again, causing Evan to fall to his knees on the floor as he cried.

“Why! Why Bella? Why did you have to leave me?!” Evan told himself as he cried harder and harder.

He felt empty, as if finally he was absolutely nothing. The person he loved so much showed that he didn't care how he would feel without the other's presence.

#evan peters #tate langdon #american horror story #ahs fandom #writers on tumblr #oneshots #evan peters x reader #evan peters x y/n #fanfic #ahs fanfic #tate x reader #sad fanfiction #sad fic #oneshot #tate ahs #tate and violet #fem reader

[edai-crplpnk]

Some Team 7 + Team 10 chara sheets!

I did more chara sheets for my modern AU. (I did Team 8 + Sand Sibs here!) They don't appear much in the fics I already wrote, I don't know if they will in the future (maybe some plan for Naruto & Jiraiya fic one day?) but I have headcanons for them!

1 - The Girlfriends

Additional facts!

Sakura:

She's been best friend with Naruto since childhood and was quite scared to come out to him as a teen, not so much because she thought he'd reject her entirely but more because she was scared it would change their dynamics if they weren't boy friends anymore. Naruto was very excited about the whole thing, and supported her plenty in her transition.

She's training to be a surgeon and met Ino in med school.

In Seeing Stars, she is roommate with Lee and Tenten, but she'll move in with Ino later, and Gaara will take her place (well, more like he'll take Lee's bed room and there is one free now but-)

This is my "everyone is gay, everyone is disabled" AU and she is the token abled chara for now, but that might change if I get inspired. Not fully set on that.

Ino:

She's known she was a lesbian (although maybe not in this word) since very young. Also, at the time, Shikamaru and Chouji were perceived as such too, so that made them a trio.

She graduates to be a physical therapist around the year of Seeing Stars. She trained a lot on Sakura (lovingly) and Lee (more brutally).

Her endometriosis is somewhat managed by progesterone but she still has some flare-ups from time to time.

2 - The Boyfriends

Chouji:

They are Brazilian through their mother and Japanese through Chouza.

They struggled a bit figuring out their gender and tried presenting more masculine earlier in their transition, cutting their hair short and all that, but really didn't like it and, after some distress and talking it through with Ino and Shikamaru, let themself own that they were, really, a femboy. He is cool with masculine words (like being Shikamaru's boyfriend).

They considered stopping T after a while but liked how it felt for the most part, and it also helped manage PCOS symptoms.

He is rather sensory-seeking and loves being able to play around with textures, colours and sparkles.

He manages chronic pain with compressive clothes, knee braces and crutches.

Shikamaru:

Identified as a boy for about forever, and was very uncomfortable with being perceived as a lesbian with Chouji as a teen (which Chouji didn't really mind on his end), in a good part because of dysphoria, but also because he's never been into girls? (Dating Chouji has been a lot of confusion until they both figured themselves out, but it did feel right, somehow. Now he knows why.)

It might not have happened yet by the time of Seeing Stars because this shit takes time, but he is eventually getting phalloplasty and a cool tattoo sleeve on his left arm afterwards to hide the graft site.

Between his fatigue and Chouij's pain, they are a very cuddly pair and spending a lot of time in each other's presence at home. It's not always easy to go out and do things whatever they may be, but they make sure that the time they spend home together feels significant and not just routine.

3 - The Not Boyfriends

Naruto:

After some chaotic and pretty traumatic time in the foster care system as a baby and young child, he was taken in by Jiraiya, a relative of Kushina. He still lives with him as an adult, though they have a more roommate-y relationship than father/son.

He has struggled a lot with school the whole time, and it got worse after being separated from Sasuke (see below) and Sakura (because he failed and had to repeat some years along the way). He didn't graduate from high school in the end.

He does restaurant delivery by bike for a living, which provides him with both a lot of time spent working the hyperactivity out, and social contact with all the cooks in the neighbourhood (who all love him and have adopted him like a stray cat.)

He is very good friend with Kiba. They met in group therapy but Kiba is not great at that so they mostly meet to smoke together.

He is bi but probably too obsessed with Sasuke and the faith he have they'll be together again to really put himself out there for anyone.

Sasuke:

He and Naruto were close (and eventually sort of dating) as children and teens, but they got into a fireworks accident together where they both lost an arm (and Sasuke some hearing). Fugaku moved him to private schooling after the events, and they haven't reconnected since then.

He has sort of convinced himself he is straight, not even out of complicated feelings for his sexuality, but really just to be able to think he isn't and has never been into Naruto, because he resents him a lot for the accident and doesn't want to come to term with forgiveness or even just admitting he is still important to him.

He's tried using a prosthetic arm for years after his injury, but never quite found one he managed to work with. He also has important phantom pain that plays into that.

For now, he's joined the police like Fugaku. Let's all hope he'll get himself together eventually.

#team 7 #team 10 #sakura haruno #ino yamanaka #choji akimichi #shikamaru nara #naruto uzumaki #sasuke uchiha #inosaku #shikacho #sasunaru #narusasu #sns #trans choji akimichi #trans shikamaru nara #trans sakura haruno #non binary choji akimichi #naruto headcanon #modern au

[findingnemosworld]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬

・𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬

( 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐨 𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐬? 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 )

[ 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 ]

He didn't meant to, nor did he plan to, and yet he began to observe her, why? he didn't know.

It started three weeks into her arrival as the new physical therapist, she had quickly built a good rapport with several players and while he tried his best to treat her with as much politeness and professionalism as he could, it didn't pass by him just how flustered she became whenever he looks her way or whenever he greets her, he notes how she'd often avoid his gaze, her cheeks would become warm with a dust of pink covering them.

Then two months into her arrival, he noticed how she'd grow silent the minute he looks her way resigning to muttering soft inaudible words which earned her some teasing remarks from Luka, which he had also could not comprehend.

Three months into her arrival, he'd seen her grow close to Nacho's wife Maria which he didn't mind obviously seeing as he had heard that she was alone in Madrid which made sense as to why she would find a friend in Maria, yet he also noticed her looking at him for a bit too long and cowering away the second he looks back which confused him once again, they weren't necessarily close friends so why would she be looking.

Six months into her arrival, he noticed how the first thing she did in the morning when she entered her small office was play different songs from her phone, and hum to each one while she was working on the files she had of each player - he'd also notice how every time he comes to greet her, her face would grow red in an instant, her words would stumble with one another causing her to simply laugh nervously as though she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't.

A year and a half later, these instances and then some had ignited a genuine curiosity in him which lead to the current training session they had, Sergio couldn't help but ask Luka. " Have you noticed anything strange about Y/N? "

The question had caught the attention of both Luka and Nacho who exchange a fleeting look before Luka said, " What do you mean? "

" I don't know, it's just ... every time I speak to her, she starts to become nervous, her face grows red, sometimes she downright avoids me " Sergio states, " I think even at one point, she had herself cooped up in her office so as to not see me, I mean I don't see that happening when she talks to you or the others, only me "

" Thank god he finally understood " Nacho murmurs under his breath.

Sergio had caught what he said then said, " What do you mean? "

Nacho looks up with a smile, " I ... it's just, forgive me for saying this Capi but you're stupid "

Luka rolls his eyes, " This isn't how you go about with such a topic "

Nacho shrugs, " I didn't lie! "

" Can any of you explain? " Sergio asks with a deadpan tone before he added, " Otherwise, I'll just go and ask her myself "

Luka was the first to speak up, " No, no ... don't do that, I'll explain " he sighs, " Y/N has a -uh- .... Y/N has a .... " he covers his face.

Nacho interjects with a groan then says, " She likes you, as in the same way I liked Maria, and the same Luka likes Vanja, no - scratch that, she loves you, has been for quite a while "

Sergio froze, Y/N ... likes him, the notion had definitely taken him back, sure he had his fair share of women but they were mere flings, nothing too serious as he was career driven and passionate about playing football for as long as he can, it's one of the reasons why he avoided being attached to a woman, " How? " he wonders.

Nacho groans once again, " well, when a boy and a girl meet up, chances are the girls starts seeing the boy in another light because it's a basic human thing, and I'm assuming she started to like you because you're a good human, a little wild but good "

" I don't understand " Sergio states, mostly to himself.

" Why won't you understand? " Luka asks with a raised brow, " Y/N is a sweet girl, very intelligent, friendly, down to earth ... to be honest, she's the kind of girl you can go for, none of those girls you used to bring to events "

Nacho chuckles, " too wild for you "

" That's the thing, it's Y/N - she's smart, she knows so much about a lot of topics and who am I, just a man that runs around or throws the ball, headbutts the ball and of course gets too aggressive, why would Y/N be interested in me? " Sergio wonders.

" You can ask her " Luka shrugs.

_

After training, Sergio makes his way to the parking lot to head to his car when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Y/N leaning against her the hood of her car with a frustrated expression, she was furiously types on her phone all the while and yet another groan escapes her lips before she gasped the minute she met his gaze.

" Are you ok? " He asks her.

" Oh -um- " She forces a smile, " I'm fine, very fine; except this piece of garbage that I drive decided that today of all days is the perfect day to fail me "

" It's not working? " He deduces.

" Yup, I tried. The issue is too deep for me to understand and I've been trying to phone my brother since he's in Madrid to see a friend but he didn't answer me " Y/N sighs.

Sergio nods silently, before saying. " I can drive you home, if you want "

Y/N's face grows warm, " Oh, you ... you don't have to, you're probably busy or you have plans "

" I don't " Sergio said, " come on, I can drive you and tomorrow we'll deal with the car "

Y/N nods slowly, following him over to his car - Sergio placed her bag in the back seat before he opened the passenger door for her to get in, she enters the car then he enters the car to drive out of the training center's parking lot.

" You can punch your house location here " Sergio gestures to the GPS monitor.

Y/N nods, swiftly typing in the location to her home, she then leans back and grows silent looking out the window, Sergio was focused on the road ahead yet every now and then, he'd look at her; Luka and Nacho's words echoed in the back of his mind, " Y/N ...? " He said with a soft voice.

" Hm " Y/N hums in response.

" Are you from Madrid? " Sergio asks.

" No " Y/N shakes her head, " You're probably going to be surprised, I'm from Tolosa, the same area that Xabi is from, I'm Basque "

" Oh really " Sergio said.

" Yeah, but I've always loved Madrid, I worked in Germany for most of my life and when Real knocked on the door, I couldn't say no " Y/N shrugs.

" You worked for Bayern right? " Sergio asks.

Y/N nods with a smile, " My mother is German so it made it easier for me to navigate around Bavaria "

" That's impressive " Sergio nods.

A wave of silence falls between them just as Sergio enters her familiar street, stopping exactly in front of her building, Y/N smiles at him, " Thank you for driving me, you didn't have to but I appreciate it nonetheless "

" No problem " Sergio smiles, before he steps out of the car to get her the bag then hand it over. " Take care "

" I will, see you tomorrow " She waves then walks into the building.

The drive home was both confusing and quite enlightening all at once, he wasn't blind, Y/N was beautiful, the kind of beauty that can make any man nervous, and she had the tongue to match yet for the life of him, he couldn't comprehend why she would ever be interested in him.

______________________________________________________________

Three weeks had passed since that interaction and to say the atmosphere was awkward would be an understatement, Sergio was as friendly as he can be - yet Y/N seemed to become even more shy than she was whenever he was around, and while she thought she was subtle with her reactions, everyone and their mother was fully aware of the tension between them.

Tonight was the match that would see Real Madrid go up against Celta Vigo to advance in the Super Copa, she was seated out with the medical team to observe the match and hopefully ensure that no player is injured, while she was seated out - the players were standing in the tunnel, Luka standing behind Sergio. " You best work hard hermano, score a goal for her and then ask her out "

" What? " Sergio raises a brow, " No! " he shakes his head.

" Don't act like you weren't looking at her during our exercises, not to mention, I can see it in your eyes, you're starting to like her "

Sergio shakes his head once again, deciding not to entertain Luka's words further, they step out onto the pitch and as he walked he catches sight of Y/N chatting with one of the medics, before she fell silent then looked at him, giving him a small smile to which he responded to with a nod.

Soon enough, the match begins - the first half was quite tense, the Real Madrid were able to pull through at the end of the first half as around the 35th minute, Vinicius Jr was able to score a goal to end the first half with a 1-0 scoresheet.

When the second half began, it was more intense as the Celta players seemed hellbent on trying to viciously tackle one of the opposition, their plan worked as Luka was tackled down which of course had Sergio fuming as he ran to square up against the player who tackled Luka, the square up turned slightly violent which forced the referee to lift up the red card effectively telling Sergio to leave the pitch.

Y/N had seen the events and was quite concerned, excused herself to go check on Sergio who was seated on one of the empty chairs, she wasn't certain if she should approach him, however when he looked up - she realized she couldn't escape, " I ... - um - " she swallows the lump in her throat, " I wanted to see if you were ok "

" I'm fine " Sergio responds with a forced smile.

Y/N nods, " Ok " she turns around to walk away but stops when Sergio calls out for her. " Yeah "

" Do you want to get something to eat later? " Sergio asks her.

Her eyes widened, her ears and cheeks grow warm. " Like a dinner, you and me? alone? " she deduced.

" Yeah, you don't spend time out with friends " Sergio wonders.

" I don't have any friends, well excluding my pet dog Hansel but yeah, I barely go out " Y/N chuckles.

" Well, you got yourself a friend now in me " Sergio said.

" Ok, cool " Y/N said with a nervous chuckle.

___

It was in fact not cool, Real had won and the team suggested a night out for all the players but Sergio declined, and Y/N immediately returned home to rummage through her closet to pick out a casual dress as she didn't want to make it seem as if she saw as anything more than two friends hanging out, it's not like he outright called it date, she chuckles to herself, finally settling on a baby pink maxi dress with a white cardigan just in case it gets cold, her hair was pulled into a loose braid and she wore a thin layer of makeup, she topped her appearance off with small high heels and a necklace.

Around forty five minutes later, the doorbell rings. Y/N takes a few deep breaths, grabs her purse and phone before she makes her way to the front door - she opens the front door and there was Sergio standing there, dressed in a white dress shirt, a pair of jeans, slacks and a leather jacket, and in his hand was a beautiful bouquet of pink roses, " Hola, I got these for you " he smiles.

Y/N's heart was racing at the sweet gesture, " Gracias " she grabs the bouquet and walks into the kitchen, " come in "

Sergio walks in to her moderately sized apartment, which was decorated with memorabilia from Bayern and Real, " you're a true fan of football huh? " he gestures to her wall.

" Yes, it's the reason I went to physical therapy! my brother was a former athlete who's career was cut short, and because of that I was inspired to enter physical therapy and be as helpful as I can to athletes because in the end, what you guys do is commendable, from playing in your club to playing for your country, it's amazing " Y/N smiles.

Sergio nods with a smile, " Did your brother play football? "

Y/N places the rose inside of the vase and nods. " Mhm, he was eligible to play for Spain and Germany given our parents, he chose to play for Germany and was destined for great things but injuries got in the way so now he runs a school there for kids to give them opportunities to play professionally "

Sergio smiles, " That's lovely "

Y/N grabs her purse, " Shall we? "

Sergio nods, " we shall "

_

The drive was full of tension to say the least, Sergio would steal glances from her and Y/N avoided looking over at him so as to not accidentally blurt out anything stupid. Once they got to the restaurant, he leads her to a private booth. " I took the liberty of ordering meals beforehand, I hope you don't mind " He said.

Y/N smiles, " I don't mind "

They sit silent for a moment before Sergio asks, " Do you miss Germany? "

" A little bit but I have reasons to love Madrid " Y/N shrugs with a smile.

" Such as ...? " Sergio prompts her to continue.

" I don't have to explain myself, I love the history that Madrid has and I love working for such an elite team like Real " Y/N smiles.

They continue to chat over football, then moving to their childhood and general topics - and that's when Sergio decides to curiously ask her, " How come a girl like you is single? "

" Huh? " Y/N tilts her head.

" You're very intelligent, you're beautiful! how come no guy has noticed you? " Sergio wonders.

" Oh that's easy " Y/N laughs, " I'm not a supermodel, men want supermodels they don't want homebodies that barely go out, speak to their pet dog like a human and spend their time reading books about medicine "

" Men are idiots then " Sergio said, " Because the way I see it, you deserve everything that is good in this world "

" That's very sweet of you " Y/N nods.

They spent the rest of the night chatting over food and a glass of wine before ending the night with a dessert and a stroll by the beach, they were walking in complete silence before Sergio decided to break it by saying, " You know a when you first got here two years ago, I was nervous about the idea of a woman working there as a physical therapist "

" Why? " Y/N wonders.

" Because, they spoke highly of you, said that your work with Bayern helped the players remained at their best shape and lessened the injury rates, so when I first saw you. I thought, intelligent and beautiful " Sergio said.

" You think I'm beautiful? " Y/N echoes, grateful that the dark sky helped conceal her face.

" Of course I do, you had all of the players like school boys whenever you're looking around " Sergio laughs.

" Oh wow " Y/N chuckles.

Sergio stops, and suggests sitting down. She sits down next to him and said. " I have to tell you something "

Before he could speak, Y/N's phone starts to ring which confused her as she pulls out her device to check, her eyes widen. " Erm, Sergio I have to go "

" Why? " Sergio asks.

" Erm, a family thing " Y/N said. " Can you drive me home please? "

Sergio frowns in confusion, " sure "

They enter the car, and he drives her home; once they reached her home, she murmurs a goodnight and scurries off further confusing him, as he drove back home and wondered what had happened exactly to make her react as such.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧. ( 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲, 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 )

#sergio ramos #sergio ramos imagine #sergio ramos one shot #sergio ramos fanfiction #sergio ramos fluff #sergio ramos x reader

[wellofhavoc]

MUTUAL U GET IT. GAIL SIMONE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW THAT THEY CAN'T DETRANSFORM IF THEY'RE CRITICALLY INJURED + THEY BLEED LIGHT AND NOT BLOOD.... she has no business writing them it just cements more people's perception of hawk and dove as misogynist x "i can fix him" AND IT GENUINELY PISSES ME OFF SO BAD don't even get me started on whoever had the bright fucking idea to put compassion as one of dove's superpowers and decided that they were war and peace instead of chaos and order

YES

Don't be too hard on Simone though, I'm sure that she didn't eagerly sign up to work with Hawk and Dove as characters. I think that's a large problem with a lot of the less well-known characters in big super teams. It's why we see Hawk flying in a lot of works when he famously cannot do that and has no interest in doing that. Dawn's whole personality of being a sweet good girl that can't look at a shirtless man without getting a case of the vapors definitely was a major rewrite that I can't explain or justify, but it's probably not Gail Simone's fault. We've seen her handle intricate relationships between women and men, so the only thing I can think is that DC said "These are Hawk and Dove, we'd like them to be included" and then she was probably handed a small passage of their powers and personalities. You can't expect every author to read every instance of a character appearance, unfortunate as it may be. I'd rather they just weren't in it, but it does give me some fun ideas about where I would have taken it.

I think it's sad that Barbara doesn't mention knowing either of them, especially since Hank's mom WAS HER PHYSICAL THERAPIST. Also Barbara having to read Hank down because "this team is led by a girl, got it, bub!?!?" when he's ONLY EVER BEEN ON FEMALE LED TEAMS and NEVER HAD A PROBLEM WITH ANY FEMALE TEAM LEAD (except for that one time he famously was not a good team member but that wasn't because Donna was a girl-) is a big yikes.

The biggest failing of them in those books, in my opinion, is the fact that they're just sort of There. They fill a slot in the Birds of Prey team and don't get any screen time dedicated to their own conflicts. Hank has a weird subplot about being emotionally numb after his revival and being horrified at the idea of coming back to life, but Dawn was also just revived and we don't get to hear her opinions on any of it. Big mess.

#hawk and dove #dc #comics #havoc blog #hank hall #dawn granger

[beth--b]

I think I'm sick

Written for sicktember 2023 prompts

1. Hopelessly bad at self care

4. Hiding an illness

8. Persistent fever

Steve took pride in his role as babysitter.

He was great at taking care of the kids. He was there whenever they needed, whether it was a quiet place to escape to when the post Upside Down nightmares got too much, a ride to the arcade, or a movie night, he was there.

He even took care of Robin, driving her to school or work. Helping keep her folks off her back about getting a boyfriend. He would do anything for his platonic soulmate.

He had helped take care of Eddie more recently too, driving him to appointments with doctors and physical therapists as he'd recovered from his not insignificant injuries inflicted by the demo bats. The biggest upside of all the time spent together being their still new relationship.

Steve was not, however, very good at taking care of himself.

Read it here on ao3

xxxxxxxxxx

It was mid way through summer break, Eddie was almost back to full strength, the Byers and Hopper had moved back to Hawkins and the kids decided they were going to have a pool party at Steve's.

They hadn't really asked, but he also didn't really mind. His parents had written to him and said they weren't coming back but he could keep the house. He was fairly sure it was only because real estate sales in Hawkins had tanked after the 'earthquake' and not out of any sense of care for his well being. Despite that he was happy to accommodate the little hellions and let them have their fun.

He had been working doubles for three weeks for extra cash wanting to make this special. He had food and drinks organised, the pool was clean with some new pool floats. He had music ready to go. Everything was set for the party.

He just hadn't banked on waking up that morning feeling feverish and ready to keel over.

"Shit," Steve groaned to himself as he forced himself upright. When that proved to be a terrible idea, the room spinning sickeningly around him, he flopped back onto his pillow.

Time had no meaning and he had no idea if he'd been lying there for minutes or hours when he finally managed to get himself upright.

He didn't remember the short trip to the bathroom but upon finding himself there he searched the medicine cabinet for a fever reducer. Eventually succeeding in finding some tylenol he dropped the pills in his mouth and drank some water directly from the faucet before swallowing them. He was freezing, and though logically he knew it was just from the fever he decided his next task would be to take a hot shower.

Stripping out of his boxers and a t-shirt that may or may not have belonged to Eddie (it was definitely Eddie's) Steve turned the water on and stepped in the shower.

The hot water felt wonderful, but despite the steam filling the room telling him the water was certainly warm enough, his skin still broke out in goosebumps and he gave a slight shiver. He turned the hot tap up just a little more, letting the steam help clear the congestion building in his sinuses. He turned to grab his shampoo, but the too hot shower and the fever left him dizzy and slowed his reaction time. He overbalanced, twisting his ankle but somehow managing to land on the floor in a way that didn't cause any further damage.

Still feeling dizzy, ankle now throbbing Steve sat on the shower floor and leaned his head against the tiled wall beside him. The cooler tiles seemed to help clear his head a little, or perhaps the medicine was beginning to work, eventually though he felt alright enough to stand up, slowly, and turn the water off.

Steve almost cried as the cooler air of the bathroom hit his bare skin, he quickly wrapped himself in a towel and limped back to his bedroom to get dressed, ankle throbbing with each step.

Getting dressed turned out to be a far more difficult task than usual.

Everything seemed so much harder than it should.

But Steve was a good babysitter, a good best friend, and even a good boyfriend, or so he hoped. So despite the fact his head felt heavier than it normally did and getting dressed was so damn hard he forced himself to get ready and go downstairs to start setting up.

He hadn't looked at the time since waking up but Steve was dismayed to find it was already after twelve. He should have been up hours ago to get everything set up. Thankfully he'd already done all the shopping and sorted out the pool. Everyone was due to come over from around two so he began to get snacks out and set chairs up in the backyard as quickly as he was able.

Thirty minutes later he had managed to drag some chairs out and get them set up around the pool. He had also got the table from their outdoor setting moved near the backdoor. Now to set up the boombox and snacks.

By the time he was satisfied everything was ready it was almost two. Taking stock of himself he was happy to note that his fever didn't seem to be an issue anymore and the pain around his eyes and forehead from congestion had settled to a manageable ache.

His twisted ankle was still sore but he'd just put his foot in the pool later to help with any swelling.

Despite the painkillers he still felt exhausted and happily collapsed onto the lounge while waiting for everyone to start to arrive.

Within moments of sitting down and putting his ankle up the doorbell rang.

"Here we go. You can do this Steve," he muttered to himself as he pushed himself back up off the lounge.

Whoever was at the door was now knocking continuously as Steve made his way to the door.

"Henderson quit it!" Steve barked as he opened the door.

Dustin, flanked by Mike, Lucas and Nancy, paused mid knock, fist almost hitting Steve's chest.

"Well why was it even locked Steve! You knew we were coming!" Dustin asks, throwing his hands in the air and pushing his way past Steve into the house. The dramatic motion just reminds Steve of Eddie rather than annoy him like it probably should.

"Go on through guys," Steve says to the rest of the group still standing outside. He steps out of the way and motions them through. Mike and Lucas rush past, following Dustin and Nancy gives him a warm smile.

"I spoke to Jonathan not long ago, their group shouldn't be far off," Nancy tells him.

"Thanks Nance. Eddie's picking Robin up so they will be here soon too."

Nancy heads on into the house and before Steve can close the door Eddie pulls up in his van. Robin just about throws herself out of the vehicle and runs to Steve, throwing herself at him.

"Never again Steve! Never again. From now on you drive me everywhere. Your boy friend is a fucking menace."

Eddie comes up behind Robin, grinning at Steve as he approaches and overhears Robin lamenting his driving.

"Come on Buckley, it's not that bad! Live a little!"

Robin turns on Eddie with a glower, "I'd like to keep living Munson! That's why Steve is going to be my one and only ride forever more!"

Eddie just cackles, Robin going inside after one last glare.

"Hey sweetheart," Eddie greets Steve, knocking Steve's shoulder on the way past. Steve follows Eddie inside and once the door closes Eddie spins around, arms caging Steve in as he presses Steve up against the door. Eddie closes the short distance between them but only manages the barest press of his lips against Steve's own before Steve ducks down under are of Eddie's arms and starts to make his way to the backyard.

Eddie watches with confusion as Steve walks away shaking his head before trailing after him.

Steve knows Eddie will probably be wondering why Steve pulled away, he only hopes that he puts it down to Steve taking hosting duties too seriously rather than the fact he doesn't want to risk Eddie catching whatever he's coming down with. If he tries to keep his distance by keeping busy hopefully nobody will catch his cold or whatever this is and once they go home he can just get an early night and be fine by morning.

It's not too long before Hopper arrives with El and the Byers clan in tow.

The day is proving to be a warm one, the kids all being nagged into applying sunscreen before they took to the water.

Robin, Nancy and Jonathan were sitting together discussing something rather heatedly, Hopper was sitting on a deck chair nursing a beer and Joyce was at his side watching the kids with a smile as she sipped at a glass of wine.

Eddie had been busy taking control of the music and leaving Steve to mother her the kids.

With everyone happy and occupied Steve took the opportunity to head inside for a few minutes to escape the noise. He loved the kids so much but they were loud and his head hurt.

Steve made his way back upstairs to his bathroom to take some more tylenol, on his way back downstairs a wave of dizziness washed over him, the ankle he had twisted earlier almost gave out and he had to slide down the wall to sit on the steps. Steve closed his eyes and massaged his temples hoping for the pain and dizzy spell to pass before anyone noticed he was missing.

Somehow he managed to sit uninterrupted for a few minutes before he heard someone coming towards the stairs.

“Stevie? Where’d you go baby?”

“Hey Eds, I’ll be right there,” Steve calls back. He hears the footsteps pause and takes the moment to get back on his feet. He just makes it down the last few steps.

“Hey Steve. You alright baby?” Eddie looks worried, the last thing Steve wanted was to make anyone worry. That’s why he hasn’t told anyone he’s not at his best. How was he still fucking this up?

“Of course. I’m fine. Just had to duck upstairs for a minute. I was just going to go check on the food, see if we need more snacks or more drinks.”

“The food and the drinks are fine Stevie. I missed you. Come on, come outside and sit with me for a bit. Please?”

How could Steve say no to that? Eddie looking at him with those dark bambi eyes of his was a weakness of Steve’s and they both knew it.

Steve cracked a grin and nodded, letting Eddie grab his arm and drag him outside to the others.

The afternoon passed in a blur of food, music and conversation. Steve spent as much of it as possible away from the rest of the group, refilling snacks or fetching drink refills. Any excuse to get away. In the moments alone he would blow his blocked nose or just sit inside away from the noise. His head ached, despite the tylenol and the pressure building in his sinuses was enough to make his teeth hurt. He loved spending time with the kids and Hopper and Joyce. Would normally never pass on a chance to hang with Robin. Then there was Eddie, this thing between them was still so new, so fresh, but it felt right. He was more comfortable with Eddie than anyone else he'd ever dated. The biggest issue was that Eddie took notice of Steve, and right now he didn't want anyone to notice how awful he was feeling.

So he took moments where he could and when he was outside with the others he tried to sit and rest his still throbbing ankle.

Finally Joyce called it.

"Alright kids, it's getting late. Time to wrap this party up and get you all home,"Joyce said to the group, sometime after the sun had set and everyone had eaten their fill of burgers that Hopper had cooked up for dinner.

The party all groaned but despite Steve's efforts, Eddie seemed to have twigged to the fact that his boyfriend was, at the very least, tired and ready to settle down and relax.

"Come on kiddos, Joyce says it’s time to leave so it’s time to leave!” Eddie announced, cutting off the grumbling from the younger teens.

Robin had been watching Steve for the last hour and she seemed to be having a silent conversation with Eddie before she stood with the rest of the group.

“Nance, mind if I grab a ride?” Robin asked.

“Of course, Jonathan and I can give you a lift. Come on,” Nancy replied, with a smile.

Robin stopped to hug Steve whispering in his ear, “You know I’m onto you mister. Get some rest.”

Steve just sighed and nodded as she pulled away and left with the others.

Finally it was just Steve and Eddie left.

“Alright Stevie, you gonna share with the class what has been going on with you today?” Eddie asked, rounding on Steve as soon as the door closed.

Steve, who was by this stage feeling like his fever was and truly on the rise, briefly contemplated sending Eddie home and just crawling into bed to die alone. Well, that might have been an exaggeration, but it didn’t really feel that way in the moment. In the end, the look Eddie was giving him was enough to break him. Well, that and the fever that was making him start to shiver and sweat simultaneously while the room began to spin.

“Eds, I think I’m sick,” Steve finally admitted, stumbling into Eddie until the metal head helped guide him to sit on the floor. Eddie coaxed Steve into sitting with his head between his knees, at least as much as his position on the floor would allow, and then began to scrub slow circles on Steve’s back.

When Steve finally felt like he could sit up again Eddie was there ready to help. He pressed the back of his hand to Steve’s forehead and frowned at his boyfriend.

“Why didn’t you tell me baby? Everyone would have understood. You should have been resting,” Eddie asked as he helped Steve up off the floor and led him over the couch.

Before Steve could even try and come up with a reply Eddie stopped him.

“You know what, I know why and I love how much you care about those kids and everyone else but you need to take care of yourself too.”

“I took some tylenol earlier,” Steve mumbled, looking down into his lap.

“Well I think it wore off baby because you are very hot, and not just to look at,” Eddie said, coaxing Steve into his arms. Steve was exhausted and as much as he worried about getting sick he decided to take the comfort on offer for once. “Come on, rest your head for a minute and then we’ll get you some more medicine and off to bed. Let me take care of you please?”

“Alright. Thank you,” Steve said, voice muffled from where he had his head buried in Eddie’s chest.

“You are more than welcome sweetheart. Next time promise you will say something though? Please?”

“I promise,” Steve replied.

Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of Steve’s head and Steve just let himself drift. He had made sure the kids were taken care of and had their day as planned. Now he would let Eddie take care of him.

#sicktember #sicktember 2023 #sickfic #fanfiction #steddie #steddie fic #steve x eddie #stranger things fic #stranger things #my fics #sicktember prompt 1 #sicktember prompt 4 #sicktember prompt 8

[dotster001]

Enemies to Lovers Part 3 of however many it takes for my coworker to Love Vil

Summary: You're living at Vil's house for the summer, and of course nothing can go as you planned. (Also, you guys are getting this a couple hours earlier than my coworker because I had time to gender neutralize it, so shh don't tell her)

Part One. Part Two. Part Four. Part Five. Part Six. Part Seven. Part Eight. Part Nine. Part Ten. Epilogue.

Despite Vil assuring you that he would provide everything you could need over break, you still decided to get a part time job. Your resume didn't exactly translate well in another world  (apparently the jobs that people in your world had come up with didn't exist here) so you had bullied Crowley for a recommendation letter before you left for break. Despite his lazy nature, it was quite good, so you were able to get a job quickly.

That part time job quickly became a full time job due to lack of staff. At first it was fine. You were saving up money for yourself and Grim, you were getting experience in jobs of this world, and you were able to avoid Vil for the most part due to your chaotic schedules. If you were being completely honest, this was the best part. You weren't ready to look at your conflicting feelings for him yet.

But we don't always get what we want, now do we?

You'd pulled your back at work, and instead of addressing it early, you had continued to work over it until you'd become a mess. Your sleep schedule was off, and you were nauseous which was bad for your eating habits.

You had had to call off work today, things had gotten so bad. You had told Grim to keep it quiet, but he must have blabbed because…

"Come, we are going to the spa." You could tell Vil was trying to give you an out by making it seem like it was a friend offer, but you knew he knew.

"No thanks," you said, hoping he would leave.

Vil frowned at you. "Even on your break, you are overworking yourself. Shriveled potatoes do not flourish."

You were about to pout at him, and say something snarky, but he had already moved to massaging your shoulders.

Apparently, he was really good at this. You felt yourself practically melting at his touch, feeling the stress and pain fade away for a moment. You could get addicted to this feeling if you weren't careful.

You could get addicted to Vil…

After a couple moments of heaven, he pulled back. 

"I assure you, the masseuse we have on retainer is very good. Her first and foremost background is physical therapy. She has worked miracles for me many times." 

You had to stop yourself from asking him to just continue massaging you instead. But you knew he was right. A physical therapist would be better. But it begged the question why he had one in the first place. You'd worry about that later.

He was definitely right, the masseuse worked wonders. After your massage, Vil had had the other employees of their home spa give you the total treatment. You felt more refreshed than you had since you had arrived.

The next day, as you were about to head to work, Vil had pulled you to the side.

"Your dedication is admirable, but if you break yourself you will be of use to no one. Be careful." 

He then handed you a bag he had personally assembled full of snacks, then sent you on your way.

                                       …

At some point during the summer, you couldn't quite remember when, you had taken to having your lunch breaks together. He would come by the shop you worked in, you would sit in comfortable silence, and then you would part ways.

It became so much of a pattern that the day Vil didn't show up, you panicked a little.

Near the end of your break, you got a call.

"Shrimpy!!!!!"

"Floyd?" You questioned. "How did you get my number?" 

"Hee hee."

That wasn't an answer, but you figured it was all you were going to get.

"What's up?"

"Hee hee, where's Betta fish I wonder?"

"Betta fish…" you muttered, trying to remember who belonged to the nickname. "Oh, Vil? I don't know, he's…. Wait."

You heard Floyd guffawing on the other end of the phone call.

"Floyd, what do you know about where Vil is?"

"Azul wants to see you. I'd show up if I were you, or Jade and I will give Betta fish a biiiiiig squeeze!"

Then he hung up.

You looked down at your phone, and saw an address from an unknown number, along with a picture of a tied up, very annoyed looking Vil.

You got permission to leave work early on "family emergency" and raced to the address. 

You arrived at what seemed to just be a beach house. You knocked on the door and Floyd threw it open, squeezing you in a hug so tight you couldn't breathe. 

"Shriiiiiimpyyyyyy you came! I knew you would!" 

You did your best to "tap out" of Floyd embrace, but to no avail, until you heard,

"Fu Fu, you can play with Shrimpy later, Azul wants to see them right now."

"Hi Jade," you said drily. "Where's Vil, and what are you…."

"No need to worry, all will be explained in time. Follow me."

Floyd begrudgingly let you down and stalked off after Jade, you in tow. At length, they arrived in an office. Azul was sitting at his desk looking the very picture of a mob boss, while Vil sat tied to one of the chairs across from Azul's desk, looking the very picture of annoyed.

"Took you long enough, Potato. I was beginning to think you'd leave me to the eels." He groaned.

"Believe me, it was very tempting," you hummed, and took the opportunity you knew you would never get again to muss up Vil's hair. If looks could kill….

"Alright, Azul. What do you want?"

He smiled at you, and gestured to the other chair. Once you sat, he leaned in close.

"I'd like to offer you a job."

....

Tag list: @stygianoir

#twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

[eekepee]

My turn. DHMIS Coffin/Finn Headcanons

Definitely has PTSD, the cause being he has to look at alot of dead bodies and hear about how they died, which as you can guess, some are pretty traumatic.

Has a hard time sleeping, he probably has flashbacks or nightmares about dead people or duck annoying the shit outta him

Expert comforter, being his job what it is, he is a master of comfort, and therefore he often comes off as emotionless, and cold, also he gives the best hugs.

Loves children and his least favorite kind of funeral is those with young children. Most of the stories he hears about how they died, was unjust and heartbreaking.

One of his favorite teachers is the lamp/Larry, because Larry is chill and helps Finn sleep, whether it be, reading to him, talking to him, or just being there when he wants someone to talk too.

He is constantly talking in a hushed tone to not frighten anybody and to come off as respectful, also because he wants to keep the situation calm, so whispering is the best way to keep anyone from getting violent.

Speaking of violence, he sometimes has clients who refuse to belive that the deceased are truly dead, and sometimes resorts to violence, so Finn also knows how to physically calm someone, whether it be retraining, hugging, or just talking them through it.

To double as a funeral Planner, he is also a therapist/ Helps people overcome grief.

Similarly to a turtle, he can tuck his legs and arms into his coffin, usually does this while he is sleeping, or sitting down.

Is not a Christian and has no religion, since the clients he deals with have different religions and as to not offend anybody, he doesn't wear crosses.

Paige, and briefcase, sometimes help set up funerals for those who have more money to spend, and have more extravagant ideas than the basic service. Such as, cremation, or using ashes in crystals, or tree seeds.

Romance-Wise, Finn is similar to briefcase, and usually doesn't take hints and makes everything job-based, if someone tried to say that they really liked him more than a friend, he'd simply reply with "I like you too!" Then continue to read, or leave to another funeral.

Finn usually leaves all the paperwork to briefcase when he has a tight schedule, since briefcase has no set job and does just about everything, from funerals to hospitals, he works everywhere.

Finn planned Lily and Todney's funeral, not knowing that they weren't actually sweet, innocent children.

#coffin dhmis #dhmis coffin #dhmis headcanons #dhmis hcs #briefcase dhmis #dhmis briefcase #dont hug me i’m scared #don’t hug me im scared #dont hug me im shit posting #don’t hug me i’m scared #don't hug me i'm scared #dont hug me im scared #dhmis #larry dhmis #lamp dhmis

[a-frog-in-a-bog]

https://www.stonewall.org.uk/resources/ace-report

I politely suggest you read it before you make the assumption that is aros and aces don't have problems to face.

If you don't believe us after reading the whole thing, fine, but remember that bigots don't care about our specific identities as to them we are all worth hurting; We all have the same face of hate against us, so whether you like it or not, we're fighting together

Just, give it a read; I promise it'll be worth it.

first i'd like to thank you for being polite and linking an actual source, it's the first time in all my years on tumblr that someone hasn't just plugged their ears and screamed "everyone is valid!!!" so genuinely, thank you. second, the point i was making was that aces and aros don't face systemic oppression, not that they don't have any problems. i'm gonna add and respond to some excerpts i found interesting for anyone who cares / doesn't have time to read the report themselves:

i would've liked to see a further clarifying question on this study about what kind of negative reaction the respondents feared. the only examples given were the above and similar, but we don't know what kind of negative reactions LGBT people anticipated. was it also just intrusive questions, or did they consider negative reactions to be physical violence, being fired, being killed, or being kicked out of their home? would a lesbian respondent consider "so which one of you is the man?" to be a negative reaction or an ignorant one? we have no way of knowing if ace and LGBT respondents had the same criteria for what constitutes a negative reaction

this is wildly unprofessional and would also make me (and i'm betting plenty other people) uncomfortable! not sure why this is presented as a micro-aggression against ace people when it's just inappropriate in general?

another one i would've liked a follow-up question to. is this because ace people are uncomfortable coming out at work or because there just hasn't been a reason to bring up lack of sexual attraction at work?

yeah! i agree! although i'm not sure why this is presented as what an ace-inclusive workplace would look like instead of what a... normal workplace should look like?

this is literally just misogyny. the same shit happens to gay and straight women (also as an aside, pain during pap smears is entirely dependent on personal pain tolerance and anxiety, it's different for everyone and has nothing to do with whether or not you've had sex before. just like how tight or loose a vagina is has nothing to do with how much sex you have. not trying to discredit the woman here, just didn't want to spread misinformation)

this is horrible, and obviously asexuality needs to be taught alongside hypoactive sexual desire disorder in med school so healthcare professionals can tell the difference between the two, as it seems most if not all of these examples stem from doctors and therapists either not knowing the difference or being confused about what asexuality is (since this study is from the UK i'm interested to know if ace people in other countries have had similar experiences, and if asexuality is taught in med school in other places)

again, thank you for sharing! it was very informative and i'll admit i wasn't aware that some ace people face medical discrimination, so i learned something new :) as i've said before, the LGBT and ace communities are a venn diagram, especially where LGBT ace folk are concerned. they're not completely overlapping but not completely separate. most marginalized communities overlap in some way. i know i said this at the start of my reply but it bears repeating-- while everything asexuals faced listed in this report ranged from mildly annoying to downright traumatizing, it's still not an organized legal attempt to criminalize, well, not feeling sexual attraction... and there weren't any hate crimes against aces... do you see what i'm getting at

#mine #id in alt text #lgbt #asexual #aromantic