#I still can't get over the word 'carnation'

[fluentmoviequoter]

Dodgers Date

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!fem!wife!reader

Summary: For your weekly date night, Tim takes you to a Dodgers game.

Warnings: incorrect descriptions of baseball (I can watch it but I can't speak it), pure fluff!!

Word Count: 1.5k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You’re on the couch with Kojo when Tim returns from work. He smiles at you, and his smile widens when you duck your chin at his unhindered attention. So far, you haven’t found a way to avoid getting shy around your husband. Which he takes full advantage of.

“Comfortable?” Tim asks after he changes.

“Me or Kojo?” you ask.

Tim shakes his head at your question and sits beside you. Kojo shifts so he’s lying between your side and Tim’s, and you lay your hand on his back. Tim leans over Kojo to kiss you quickly, then sits back and sets his hand on yours.

“What do you want to do this week?”

You furrow your brows and point out, “I thought you were picking this week.”

“You’re still okay with that?”

“As long as it’s not karaoke again.”

Tim’s head tips back as he laughs. It had started as a joke, an attempt to make you shy while you were still dating, but then you told him you’d never go out with him again unless he participated in the karaoke. He took a page from Lucy’s book and performed “Da Noise” by Flex and Flow. By the end of the song, you knew you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, even if he did embarrass you.

“I promise, no more public performances,” Tim answers. “I have tickets behind home plate for the Dodgers’ game this week.”

You smile at his promise and lean toward him as he brushes his hand over your cheek.

“Would you like to go on a date with me to see the Dodgers win?” he proposes.

“I’d love to,” you answer softly. “But no foam fingers.”

“We need something to tell the grandkids,” he jokes.

You fall forward and rest your forehead against Tim’s shoulder. He rubs your back as he whispers an apology. Sometimes you don’t know which apologies are genuine, but it doesn’t matter because you love Tim. And weekly date nights are the highlight of your marriage.

When Tim texts you that he’s leaving work, you walk into your shared bedroom to get ready. Despite the ring on your finger, going on dates with Tim still makes you giddy, overwhelmingly happy, and occasionally shy. Life with Tim Bradford is never dull, and his insistence to keep your relationship alive and to never fall into monotony makes life fun, too. With the few minutes you have before Tim gets home, you change clothes – and maybe steal a Dodgers shirt from Tim’s side of the closet – then fix your hair the way you like. As you check your outfit in the bathroom mirror, Kojo walks in and approves by licking your hand.

“Thanks, buddy,” you murmur as you pet his head.

The front door opens as you put your shoes on, and you sit up quickly as Tim walks down the hall. He pauses in the bedroom doorway to look at you.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

You smile and thank him, then kiss him as he passes. He tells you about his day and asks about yours while he changes, but when he emerges in jeans and a Dodgers jersey, you fall silent.

“What?” Tim inquires. He looks down to check his clothes before he shrugs.

“Do you always have to look better than me?”

Tim takes your hands and pulls you to stand. He looks into your eyes as he asks, “When’s the last time we took you to the eye doctor?”

You try to pull your hands away after his bad joke, but he uses your linked hands to pull you closer. With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, Tim leads you to the door. He picks up your bag and opens the door for you, the picture of a perfect gentleman. As he helps you into the passenger seat of his truck, there’s a bouquet of white roses and blue carnations with a keepsake Dodgers ticket in place of a card.

“Thank you,” you tell Tim as you pull the cellophane-wrapped flowers into your lap. “They’re beautiful.”

Tim takes a picture of you holding the flowers without drawing your attention, then runs the flowers back inside so they don’t stay in his truck all night. When he returns and holds your hand over the console as he drives, you somehow fall more in love with him.

Your hand remains comfortable in Tim’s as he leads you through Dodger Stadium and to your seats behind home plate. Tim leaves you to go buy food and drinks, but you suspect he played the I’m an Army vet turned cop, could I jump the line? card because he’s back in under fifteen minutes. He passes you a foam finger with the Dodgers logo on it, and you groan before you set it aside.

“Have a little team spirit,” Tim chides playfully. “A pretty girl like you brings good luck, but your heart has to be in it.”

“Stop,” you request quietly.

Tim sits beside you and only smiles in reply. He passes you your drink and balances the food so you can reach it easily.

“How many innings?” you ask as you take a piece of popcorn from the overflowing bag.

“Nine,” Tim answers. “You know that.”

“Not in the game. I mean, how many innings until you forget I’m over here and just watch the game?”

You smile and Tim rolls his eyes. You’ve been on enough dates to know that it’s rare, but not impossible, for him to get so caught up in a game he forgets about you and the date you’re on. Tim doesn’t reply before the crowd cheers as the announcer welcomes everyone to Dodger Stadium.

By the time the game starts, Tim has his arm around your shoulders and the foam finger is waiting on your lap. The Dodgers are batting first, and you shift slightly so that Tim can stand and cheer whenever he wants. He tuts quietly and pulls you close again.

“I’m not forgetting about my date,” he says over the noise of the crowd.

“When are you going to tell your wife?” you reply boldly.

The woman sitting behind you gasps, and you immediately regret joking about that. Tim tries to hide his smile as he looks back to the field, but your eyes are on him. When Shoehei Ohtani steps up to bat, Tim joins the rest of the crowd in cheering. You look away from Tim long enough to see him bat, then watch Tim’s face light up as Shoehei runs to first base.

“Do you want this?” you ask Tim, raising the foam finger.

He looks at you quickly, and you sigh as you slide your hand into the opening. When you raise it, Tim cheers louder than before. This is one of your favorite date nights, you decide.

After the first half of the ninth inning, your voice is nearly gone from yelling alongside Tim, your foam finger is discarded beside you, and Tim’s arm is still wrapped around you. He took a picture with you between the last two innings (though he did have to explain to the woman behind you that you are his wife and were kidding earlier before she agreed to take the picture for you). As the game nears its conclusion, and you’re sure the Dodgers will win, you lean against Tim. His arm tightens around you, and he kisses your temple.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you,” he replies. “Are you having a good time?”

“With you, always.”

“The Dodgers win!” the announcer yells.

The crowd stands to cheer, and you jump up with Tim. He doesn’t celebrate the win for long, however, before he opts to kiss you instead. You’re aware of all the people who can see you, but at the moment, you don’t care. When he pulls back and the guy beside Tim congratulates him, that changes, and you duck your head behind Tim’s shoulder to hide your smile and warm cheeks.

“You ready to go?” Tim asks as the celebration continues.

“Whenever you are.”

Tim takes your hand and leads you through the stadium once more. In the privacy of his truck, under the fireworks and the dimmed parking lot lights, he kisses you again. Dating Tim will never get boring.

“Thank you,” Tim says as he pulls back but keeps his hand on your cheek.

“For what?” you inquire.

“Loving me. Helping the Dodgers win… maybe not in that order.”

You shake your head as Tim turns in his seat. His hand rests on your thigh while he drives, and you discuss your favorite moments from the game.

“Any ideas for next week?” Tim asks.

“Kojo and I were thinking a family trip to the pet store would be nice.”

“That’s not a date.”

“Everything’s a date with you, Bradford.”

Tim nods as he turns into the driveway. “Just because I love you.” He watches as your eyes drop and smiles to himself. “Pet store it is, Bradford.”

[singstaircase]

Can We Become We? (2)

Summary: 5 times Jude tried to show his love for his wife and failed and 1 time he succeed.

contains: fluff, references to marriage of convenience, Valverde and Brahim are as useful as always, Ancelotti makes another appearance. This is a definitive part two of can we became we?

*Mina is Valverde's partner, Luz is Brahim's girlfriend, Ana is Lunin's wife

1

Jude is proud of this plan.

It was his idea, definitely not something he picked up from the internet, Luka or Brahim–especially not Brahim.

And the best part? He's certain it's going to work.

Taking a deep breath, Jude tries to calm the fluttering of his heart once more and gather his thoughts together.

He can hear that melodic laughter getting clear and closer. With one last deep breath, he hurries into the lounge area with a bouquet in hand.

“(Name)!” Jude calls out.

(Name) looks up from her laptop, and a smile immediately spreads across her face when she sees her. His heart skips a beat– her smile still having that effect on him.

"What's this?" she asks, her eyes lighting up a bit as she takes the bouquet.

"Just a little something for you," Jude says, beaming with pride.

(Name)’s smile falters a bit as she looks at the flowers more closely. She lets out an awkward laugh, trying to mask her confusion. “Thanks, Jude. This is…interesting.”

Jude's own smile fades away, replaced by the same confusion as his wife. “What's wrong? You don't like them?”

(Name) bites her lips, trying to choose her next words carefully.

“No, no, they're lovely. Just...unexpected." She kisses him on the cheek and excuses herself, murmuring something about Mina and dinner.

Jude stands there, bewildered.

Just then, Ancelotti enters the lounge area with Fede and Brahim.

His coach takes one look at the flowers and shakes his head in disappointment. Fede and Brahim, on the other hand, immediately burst into laughter.

“What's so funny?” Jude demands.

Brahim nearly loses his balance and clings to Fede when Ancelotti smacks Jude lightly on the head.

“Idiot. You gave her yellow carnations. Do you realize what that means?”

Jude rubs the back of his head, still clueless. “No?”

“They mean disappointment and rejection. You basically told your wife you hate her.”

Jude's eyes widen in horror. “What?! I thought these were just pretty flowers!"

Without wasting another second, he bolts outside. "(Name)! Wait!"

Behind him, his coach sighs while Fede and Brahim continue to laugh in disbelief.

2

Jude is proud of his plan. And this time he's going to succeed, he is sure of it.

He's going to surprise (Name) and there's no possible way anything can go wrong.

The plan is perfect, except for one fact. Jude…. isn't the greatest when it comes to cooking.

In their Madrid home, Jude tries to remember the recipe as he gathers ingredients. He's seen it many times, how hard can it possibly be?

As he starts chopping vegetables, his confidence begins to waver.

The onions make his eyes sting, the garlic refuses to mince as finely as he was expecting and he can't quite remember if the vegetables need to be marinated or just tossed in the pan.

But Jude presses on, refusing to let minor failures discourage him.

Soon enough, the kitchen is filled with the smell of sizzling vegetables and herbs—though it is accompanied by the occasional scent of something burning.

He stirs, tastes, adds more salt, more pepper and at one point, dumps an entire jar of sauce, just to be safe.

By the time (Name) arrives home, the kitchen is in chaos. Pots and pans are all over the floor and a faint trail of smoke is seeping from the oven.

“Jude?” (Name) calls out as she enters their living room, the smell of something burnt hitting her immediately.

“In here!” Jude calls back, trying to keep his voice steady. “Just finishing up a little surprise for you!”

(Name) walks into the kitchen and freezes. The scene in front of her is both endearing and alarming.

Jude is surrounded by a culinary disaster– splash of sauce on the wall, flour on the counter and his hair, and a dish in front of him that looks like it just fought a losing battle against the stove.

“Jude….what is this?” She asks, her voice a mixture of confusion and concern. Jude turns to her, grinning proudly.

“I wanted to do something for you. You always do so much for me and now it’s my turn to spoil you.”

(Name)’s heart melts at the sight of her husband being proud of his efforts, despite the clear indication of his struggle.

“That's so sweet of you, Jude,” she softly says, stepping closer.

“Here, sit down,” Jude said, gesturing towards the dining table. “I’ll bring it to you.”

He awkwardly places the food as she watches, trying to arrange it in a way that doesn't look entirely like a mess.

(Name) stares at the dish.

It is…very different from what they usually eat, and the smell is… well, not exactly appetizing either. But she can see how much this means to Jude, and there’s no way she is going to let him down.

She picks up her fork and forces a smile. “It looks… interesting,” she says, trying to sound enthusiastic.

“Go on, try it!” Jude urges, taking a seat opposite of her and watching her intently.(Name) takes a deep breath and cuts a small piece of the dish.

The texture is tough, the seasoning is overwhelming and there is a strange taste of something burnt that lingers. It is, quite possibly, the worst thing she has ever eaten.

But she swallows it, determined not to hurt Jude's feelings.

“Mmm,” she murmurs, forcing another smile. “It’s… different.”

Jude beams. “I knew you’d love it! I’ll make this more often.”

(Name)’s smile falters, just for a second before she forces it back in place. “That’s… great, Jude.”

3

Ana’s birthday presents Jude with his next opportunity.

Surely he can't mess this up, right? It's just dancing– how hard can it possibly be?

(Name)’s heart skips a beat when Jude asks her for a dance, just like the first time.

It does so again, when he admits that he learned how to dance just for her.

To her astonishment, he is doing good—really good.

For a moment, the world melts away, and (Name)’s smile grows wider with each turn and twirl.

“Jude, you’re doing so good!” she exclaims, laughing as they spin around the room.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Jude replies in a soft voice full of affection. “You deserve the best.”

Turns out, dancing isn't that hard.

But dancing with the love of your life? One of the hardest things ever and Jude discovers that in the most unfortunate way.

As the dance goes on, Jude becomes more and more captivated by (Name)’s smile, the way her eyes sparkle and how perfectly she fits in his arms.

He's so mesmerized that, for a split second, he loses focus.

***

It happens in an instant.

As he twirls her one last time, his grip loosens and (Name) spins out of his arms.

She gasps in surprise as she stumbles backward. But before she can fall, Fede and Mina, standing nearby, catch her just in time.

Jude's heart drops to the floor as he watches in horror. He rushes to her side, his face pale with worry.

“(Name)! Are you okay? I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—”

(Name), although startled, is quick to reassure him. She gives their friends a grateful smile as they help lift her up.

Turning to Jude, she places a hand on his arm. “I’m fine, Jude. Don't worry,” she says gently.

But even (Name)’s reassurance isn't enough to ease Jude.

He spends hours going over every detail, apologizing for his mistake. (Name) patiently listens, repeating over and over that she understands, that she isn't upset.

Once again, Jude's perfect plan failed.

4

This time it has to work, it has to.

Jude parks his car in front of (Name)’s workplace a good 20 minutes before her shift is supposed to end.

He checks the time and the address repeatedly. It's going to be perfect this time around. It has to.

But as minutes tick by, Jude starts to get anxious. He's been waiting for ten minutes and there seems to be no sign of (Name).

His eyes flick back and forth between the clock on the dashboard and the building’s entrance.

Another five minutes pass. Still nothing.

Jude's concern begins to grow. He reaches for his phone, only to find the screen completely dark. His phone is dead.

A wave of panic takes over him. What if she's stuck somewhere and can't reach me?

Jude glances around frantically, hoping to see (Name).

Just then, he spots Luz walking out of the building. Relief washes over him and he hurries out of the car to meet her.

“Luz!” Jude calls out. He takes a few seconds to steady himself. “Where's (Name)? I've been waiting for her but she's nowhere to be seen?”

Luz looks at him, confused. “(Name)?”

“Yeah. I came to pick her up,” he explains, “but it's almost been 20 minutes and I still haven't seen her.”

Luz’s puzzled expression softens once she realizes what's happened.

“Jude…she isn't here because this isn't her workplace.”

Jude blinks, trying to process her words. “What? But–but I thought…”

Luz shakes her head with a small smile. “No, she works on the building down the road. The names are pretty similar, I can see how you got confused.”

Jude's heart sinks. He can't believe he made such a silly mistake. “Shit…I’m such an idiot,” he mutters to himself, before looking back at Luz.

“Thank you, Luz.”

Without wasting another second, he rushes back to his car and drives off towards the correct location.

As he pulls up to the right building, he spots (Name) just as she’s stepping out of the entrance.

Relief washes over him once more. He quickly parks the car and hurries over to her.

“(Name)!” he calls out in an apologetic voice.

(Name) turns, surprised to see him. “Jude? What are you doing here?”

Jude reaches her, slightly out of breath. “I’m so sorry, (Name). I went to the wrong building. I got the names mixed up and then my phone died. And I was so worried when I didn’t see you…”

(Name)’s expression softens as she sees the genuine concern in his eyes. She offers him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Jude. Really, it’s fine.”

Back in the car, Jude glances at her, his face still clouded with regret.

“I'm so sorry, (Name). I wish I didn't mess up like this all the time.”

(Name) reaches out and touches his shoulder gently.

“You didn't mess up,” she says, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You are here and that's enough for me.”

Jude sighs. He tries to relax but the guilt of messing up still lingers around.

Jude 0 Misfortune 3*

5

For once, Jude isn't actually sure of the plan. But one thing he is certain of is that if he stays like this, he'll faint soon.

This was Brahim and Fede’s plan, needless to say he was skeptical from the start. But they’ve been relationships longer than him, so he decided to trust them.

Now, as the minutes drag on, he's starting to realize that it might have been a huge mistake.

***

This is ridiculous, Jude thinks, feeling the sweat start trickle down his back. This was a stupid idea that would only work in movies.

He shoots Fede hid eighth glare of the night and Brahim is probably hiding somewhere.

The midfielder gestures for Jude to relax but it only makes him more impatient.

A small sound from his phone ends up being Fede's saving grace. ‘Five more minutes’, the message from Brahim reads.

***

True to his words, five minutes later, Jude finally spots (Name) across the room.

With a deep breath, Jude walks over and without a word, drapes his jacket over her shoulders.

(Name) blinks in surprise, then looks up at him, puzzled.

“Jude… what are you doing? Are you okay? You’re sweating a lot.”

Jude tries to explain but his words come out in a jumbled mess. “I just… I thought you might be cold, so I… the jacket…”

Her confusion turns into a soft, amused smile. She removes the jacket off her shoulders and ties it around her waist instead.

“You’re sweet but I’m not cold,” she says, taking his hand. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. You look like you need some fresh air.”

***

As they head outside, Jude doesn’t miss the opportunity to shoot another death glare at Fede, who’s trying—and failing—not to laugh. Brahim is grinning like a Cheshire cat from across the room.

He's never listening to anything they ever say.

+1

Jude planned everything perfectly.

Or so he thought.

His grand plan was to surprise (Name) with a romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant. There was very little that could go wrong this time, right?

Unfortunately for Jude, everything that could go wrong, did go wrong and horribly so.

First, they are late thanks to him misplacing the car keys. Then, in his flustered state, Jude takes a wrong turn and gets stuck in the traffic for almost an hour.

By the time they finally arrive at the restaurant, they learn that their reservation has been given to another couple.

“We’re terribly sorry, sir,” the hostess said. “But your time ended and we had to give the table away.”

Jude's heart sinks. He can see the disappointment in (Name)’s eyes and it felt like another failure in a long list of them. He manages to put up a tight smile and nods, leading her back to the car in silence.

***

Once inside, Jude grips the steering wheel and stares ahead blankly. One look at (Name) a moment later and he's unable to stop himself.

“I’m so sorry, (Name),” he chokes out, unable to keep the frustration inside.

“I’ve been trying so hard to show you how much I love you. But I just keep screwing everything up. I wanted tonight to be perfect but I can’t even get that right.”

(Name) reaches over, gently placing her hand on his. “Jude, you don’t have to do anything grand to show me you love me.”

“But I want to,” he whispers, tears welling up in his eyes. “I want to make you happy, to do something special…”

She smiles softly, shaking her head. “You already do that, every day. It’s not about fancy dinners or big gestures.

It’s the way you always make sure my favorite mug is clean in the morning, the way you hold my hand when we’re watching a movie, even if it’s one you don’t like. It’s the way you look at me, like I’m the only person in the room.”

Jude looks at her, surprised by her words. “But those are just… little things.”

“Not to me,” she says, squeezing his hand. “Those are the things that matter. They’re the things that show me you care, every day. You don’t have to try so hard, Jude. I know you love me and that's enough for me.”

A tear slips down his cheek and (Name) gently wipes it away. “It’s okay,” she say softly. “We’re okay.”

They sit there for a moment, just holding hands and talking about everything and nothing.

This isn't as grand or big as Jude hoped for. But (Name)’s happy and laughing, and here with him.

And that's enough for now.

[writingchalamet]

Angels Like You II

Angels Like You Chapter I

A.N: Hope you enjoyed part 1, things will be heating up from here and we will be getting a lot more Y/n and Bucky interaction!

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, violence, blood, mentions of S/A, mentions of graphic physical abuse, fluff, y/n has a child, Bucky being protective

Chapter II

Your day had begun like any other, waking to the sound of Forrest stirring on your baby monitor. You walk into his bedroom finding him sitting in his cot a beautiful smile instantly gracing his face as you enter the room, rambling the word 'mama' or an iteration of the sort over and over, you were both all smiles all morning as you most days, getting Forrest ready for day care was perhaps your least favourite part of the day, he still cried when you dropped him off and it broke your heart in two everyday. After Forrest was dropped off at day care, you start your day at work, keeping the door to the Bakery locked until your other baker joins you in an hour, you make a start on your breads taking your premade doughs out the fridge, giving them a quick kneed before placing them in their baking trays. Then onto pastries and cakes you can whip up from scratch, deciding on lemon and blueberry cupcakes with cream-cheese frosting as your 'chefs choice' for the week.

You hear a tap on the glass door and go through kitchen into the main shop to kind your employee Kay standing at the door smiling, clutching a bunch of flowers in her arms. You unlocked the door opening enough to let her in before securing the lock again, "Hey Kay, how are you?" you embrace her in a side hug "I'm good thanks, I got these flowers for the counter, I saw them yesterday and they reminded me of you, so you know" the thought brought a smile to your face in an instant. "Oh thank you, that's so cute" You find a jug to put them in, arranging the carnations on the counter next to the till. Yourself and Kay continue baking and prepping for the day ahead, finishing off some icing and glazing before placing the first batches into the display counter and finishing setting up.

The morning flew by, your regulars came in for their morning coffee and pastries, the couple of old ladies who come by once a week to pick up a loaf of bread and some cakes stopped by and had a chat, and a few college students stopped in, you were happy with how business was going, until you saw a certain head of curls across the street, dark eyes looking your way, his figure loomed over you like a dark omen, you just knew something terrible was about to happen, you could tell by the way he sat there chain smoking and swigging from his coffee cup, that was most likely not coffee, he wore a smug smile across his face while he continued to stare at you.

"Okay Boss, I'm gonna run down the road and grab some lunch, you want anything?" You tore your gaze away from the menacing stare of your ex to meet Kay's. "Uh, no I'm good thanks" she nodded and headed out the door, down the street and out of sight. You were alone. Shit. You look up again and see that Matt had moved from his spot on the wall across your shop, and was moving hastily towards you. You clamber over the counter and try to make it to the door before him, but you're too late. The sweet ding off the bell above the door ringing leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. "Get out Matt, you can't be here" you try to be firm but your voice only comes out broken.

"Or what, you gonna call the cops? You know they won't do anything" He stalks towards you until your backed up against your counter, the hard wood digging into your back. "Matt seriously, leave me alone, please" you were willing yourself not to cry but couldn't help the few stray tears that slipped down your cheeks. Matt picked up the jug of flowers smashing them down against the counter with force causing the glass to shatter, a few shards cutting your arm in the process. "Don't you fucking cry or I'll give you something to cry about" His hands wrapped around your neck cutting off your supply of oxygen while he threw you against the window, keeping you pinned there by your neck. You sputtered out a choke as tears slipped down your face, only making him grip you impossibly tighter, "You wanna fucking cry, you ran away while you were pregnant with my child, I have a right to see them, huh, where is the little brat" He shook your neck bashing your head against the glass. You only hoped he would tire himself out, he usually didn't last long when he'd had a drink anyway.

Over all the commotion you didn't hear the bell of the door opening, and you didn't see Bucky coming to stand behind Matt but thank the lord he did. "You're gonna wanna let the lady go" As soon as you heard his voice your senses ignited, your eyes opened and the tears stopped flowing immediately. Matt loosened his grip but refused to let go. "yeah or what" he scoffed before throwing his head over his shoulder catching a glimpse of your rescuer. You could have sworn you saw him recoil into himself, something you had never once seen. However his fear was short lived and soon replaced by anger once more. "Who's this guy huh? what you just opened your legs for the first guy you said hi to here, you whor-" the second his grip tightened around your neck once more it was enough to send Bucky into overdrive.

He reached forwards wrapping his hand around Matts wrist bending it backwards until you were sure you heard a snap, while Matt screamed Bucky secured an arm around you, giving you the once over, not stopping until you gave him a nod. "Oh I'm gonna fucking kill you, you stupid bitch" in a poor attempt to throw a punch Matt practically threw himself at Bucky, who didn't seem the slightest bit phased, caught Matt by his throat with his vibranium arm, squeezing until he was red in the face. Matt coughed attempting to pull back, Bucky only pulled him closer, clenching his fist all that bit harder. He pulled him close enough that his mouth reached Matts ear. "If you come near her again, I'll fucking finish the job" with those words he pushed Matt away from the two of them, Matt scrambling away and out the door nearly falling to the floor in the process. You let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding, feeling the weight of the world fall off your shoulders for just a moment.

Hot tears spill down your cheeks again in slow steady streams, burning the skin in their wake. "Thank you" you breathed out, your shaking hands reaching up to wipe your face, it's then your realise the blood dripping from a glass made gash on your arm, dripping down your fingers and onto the floor. "Hey, let me take a look at that, make sure you don't need stitches" you pull your arm away from him recoiling into yourself, "no it's fine, you've done enough, you can go, thank you Bucky" You stare at the floor the entire time watching as small droplets of blood begin to litter the tiles. "I'm not leaving in case he comes back, in fact I'm gonna patch you up and we're gonna get Forrest and go home, okay, sound good?" His hand raised to your cheek gaining your attention from your disoriented state, he wipes away the tears as they form under your eyes, brushing them away from your skin, you close your eyes for a moment allowing the feeling to sooth you.

"Alright lets get you cleaned up"

After the incident at the bakery Sam, Bucky and Sarah had been on high alert, Sam brought up the fact that they could have Torres flown in to be your own personal bodyguard, the thought daunting, that you might actually need one. Then Sarah brough up the fact that there are two more than capable 'bodyguards' here if they want to help. And that's how you ended up here, with Bucky living in your spare room for the past two nights, seemingly watching your every move afraid you'll shatter like glass.

What shocked you the most was how quickly Forrest had taken to Bucky, usually he was shy around people for weeks, hell he’s been going to nursery for a year and still won’t let some of the day care assistants hold or play with him. In a way you were glad he was so reserved, made you think that he would never just run off with a stranger, or your psycho ex. But with Bucky he was different, he seemed to open up pretty much straight away, showing him his favourite toys, wanting to sit next to him on the sofa, wherever you looked you would see Forrest’s little hand reaching up for Buck’s trying to show him something, the sight bringing a dull ache to your chest. Maybe it was the lack of a male presence in his life that made him take to Bucky so well, but you were grateful either way.

You were settling down for the evening after feeding Forrest his dinner, the three of you snuggled up on the couch watching a Disney movie before you put Forrest down for bed. You couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling filling your body as you watched Forrest nuzzle into Bucky’s side, his head leaning on his chest. You found your head lulling to the side more often than watching the film, admiring the pair of them, Forrest occasionally pointing to the screen and muttering some gibberish to Bucky excitedly. Towards the end of the film, Forrest had fallen asleep, cuddled into Buck’s side. “I better get him up to bed” you sighed in content beginning to sit up from your comfy seated position. “I can take him up if you want” Bucky spoke in a hushed tone, already slipping his arms around the boy and standing from the sofa. “Why don’t we go up together?" You smiled, getting up from the sofa and following Bucky up the stairs into your sons’ room, you admired the way Bucky gently placed him down on the changing table as if he had done it a thousand times, and stood aside letting you get the baby changed ready for bed. Once he had a fresh nappy and pyjamas on, Bucky picked him up once more, leaning over the side of the cot and smoothly placed Forrest down into his bed, without him stirring once. You both stood there and smiled over the sleeping baby for a moment before retreating back downstairs.

You opened a bottle of wine grabbing two glasses, heading back into the living room finding Bucky back in his original spot on the sofa once more. “I never really got the chance to thank you for the other day, or explain…” You avoided eye contact as you sat down, fiddling with the stem of your wine glass in an attempt to distract yourself. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, I’m just glad I was able to help is all” Bucky responds coyly, wrapping a hand around yours in an attempt to stop your nervous fidgeting around the glass. “Sarah spoke to me… She said that she told you guys about Matt… That you seemed pretty upset” you plucked up the courage to look in his eyes, as you did, he looked away, shaking his head. Almost embarrassed. “I uh… I don’t know what to tell you…” There was a pause after he spoke, neither of you knowing what to say. “Why do you care so much, you don’t know me?”

Bucky scoffed, seeming taken aback by your comment, as if someone caring about your well being was a problem. “Why wouldn’t I care, especially after hearing the shit he put you through, that would be enough to make any sane person mad, no?” His response seemed valid, even if you didn’t want to admit it, if it had been you that had found Sarah pregnant and sleeping in her car, hearing her situation you would have been just as furious. You understood where he was coming from. “I guess…” Your sentence trailed off and you stared into your empty wine glass. Bucky took the hint and opened the bottle of wine, filling your glass more than you normally would have, you giggled side eyeing him, tilting the glass up to your eyeline. “You trying to get me drunk Barnes, you know there’s a sleeping toddler upstairs right” you joked, clinking your glass with his, just as full. He laughed along shaking his head.

After sinking one or two bottles of wine, you felt yourself growing more confident. The wine raising a sweet pink blush to your cheeks which Bucky found undeniably cute, he found himself drawing closer to you and you let him, there was no room between you, his arm encased the back of the sofa around your shoulders, your head occasionally falling back to rest on the limb, your thigh hunched up resting on his own, as you chatted the night away truly getting to know each other. If Sam were to look in through the window Bucky knows he would have a shit eating grin plastered on his face at the sight of his best friend this close to a girl after so many years. And you couldn’t help but admit, it felt nice to be this close to someone, especially after the only relationship you had ever been in was an abusive one, you thought you would find it hard to trust, but Bucky made you feel at ease the second you were near him.

“So, what’s it like being a superhero?” you enquired eyes wide with wonder. He scoffed again shaking his head, and attribute you would soon grow attached to. “I’m no superhero doll” you shook your head, taking his glass out of his hand and placing it on the coffee table, you place yourself directly in his eyeline, practically sitting in his lap. “Oh common! You fought Thanos’ army, helped bring down that Zemo guy and you just stopped the flag smashers! And to top it off you were sergeant of the Howling Commandos. I’d say that’s pretty superhero-esque to me” you wink at him and couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the look on his face. “Okay stalker, someone’s done their homework” he laughs out, he raised his hands in defence, lowering them to rest on your lower back and his Vibranium hand on your thigh, your hands settled on his shoulders, and you gave them a light squeeze, feeling intrigued by the feeling of the metal under his shirt.

 “Of course, I had to, I’m not gonna let some strange man I don’t know stay in the same house as my son, am I?” you tilted your head to the side, eyeing him quizzically. “Of course, not” The flesh hand holding your back began to stroke up your back and you forgot to breathe for a moment. His hand stilled in the centre of your back, laying there flat and steady. You stared into the blues of his eyes, realizing now just how deep they really are. How much history they hold behind them, how many horrors he too has seen. You felt his gaze searching your own, tracing every spec on your face, you saw his eyes linger by your eyebrow where your scar was and regrettably you tore your own pair away from his face. Removing yourself from his lap, standing before him. He sat there; brows furrowed slightly in question as to why you were leaving. “I should get to bed, I have to get back to work tomorrow, but thank you Bucky for a lovely evening, thank you for everything…” You spoke to the floor before turning hurriedly towards the stairs. “Yeah, yeah, no problem… No problem at all…” Bucky spoke shallowly to himself wondering what he had done wrong.

Tag List:

@unaxv @mrsnikstan

@ilovetaquitosmmmm

[fanfictionstuff]

Can you do a Hanahaki disease with Ego Jinpachi? Maybe the reader has the disease? But with a happy ending because I don't want to cry lmao

Ego Jinpachi x Reader

Okay, so I know people have strong opinions about Ego, I gotta say, I find him attractive

I guess kind of OOC

TW: death? But not really because it's a happy ending

The first petal was confusing: an odd tickle in your throat leading to a horrible coughing fit. “_____, go drink some water,” Jinpachi had casually said, eyes locked on the screens. You pulled your hand away from your mouth and glanced down to see what had caused the odd tickle. A white and pink petal. You stared at it, trying to wrap your head around it. Why would a petal be in your throat? Have you eaten something with real flowers?

The next ones came when you offered Jinpachi something to eat, something you had cooked. He didn't even face you when he told you he didn't want it, but you still left it on the desk. Anri can just get rid of it if he doesn't eat it. As you stepped out of the room, another tickle in your throat, this time three petals. Same color as the first. It's what confirmed it. Then, as if the flowers themselves weren't bad enough, you used an app to identify them. Striped carnations- their meaning is rejection. Fitting.

The following few times, Anri was nearby, too, her big brown eyes full of concern as she questioned if you were sick. You coughed the petals into your hands and stuffed them into your jacket pocket. "No, just a tickle in my throat." You shrugged.

Of course, she was also nearby when it worsened; this time, a whole flower came up covered in disgusting saliva. As you stared down at the flower in your hand, Anri didn't freeze in panic; she didn't stare at you, trying to figure out what to do. No. She grabbed your wrist, nearly dragging you out of the Blue Lock building. You tried to argue. She didn't care. "This isn't just a tickle in your throat _____! You can die from this."

"______, what are your thoughts?" Ego asks without facing you. You remain silent, causing him to feel a hint of irritation. He swivels his chair around to face you, ready to ask again, but you're not there. He checks the time and notices it's not lunchtime yet. You never leave unless your shift is over or it's time for lunch. A few moments later, Anri enters the room. "Where is _____?" He asks. "At the hospital," Anri replies.

"She's in the hospital because of a cough?" He had heard how much you've been coughing lately, but he didn't think it was serious enough for hospitalization.

Slowly, Anri shakes her head. "No, it's worse than a cough. Maybe you should go see her."

It can't be that bad; you haven't said a word to him about it. "I'm busy at the moment, maybe later." He shrugs, turning back to focus on his diamonds in the rough.

“It’s Hanahaki disease.”

---------------------------

You are taken aback when Ego enters the hospital room. "What are you doing here? You should be concentrating on Blue Lock," you say casually, trying to make light of the situation. The doctor had insisted that you stay in the hospital for observation. "It's only a cough; I don't want you to waste your time." His eyes drift to the bed, where multiple flowers and petals are. "Hanahaki disease is not just a cough," Ego frowns at you.

Just as you are about to reply, there is a knock on the door. The sound interrupts you and catches your attention. "Miss ____," a doctor says as he enters the room, holding a chart in his hand. His gaze falls upon Ego, and he hesitates before asking, "Should I come back at another time?"

"No, it's fine. What is it?"

"As you are aware, there is only one choice. I am here to review the specifics with you. First and foremost, we must go over the potential consequences of the surgery. It is important to note that you will lose all memories of your current love interest; there is a small chance you may never experience romantic love again. However, this occurrence is extremely uncommon; most patients have no issues after the procedure."

You state bluntly, "I don't care what the statistics say. I am not going to have the surgery."

The doctor moves past Ego and stands at your bedside, gently touching your shoulder. In a calm voice, he tells you, "____, without the surgery, you won't survive."

"I'm aware. It's fine."

Ego shakes his head and moves to the other side of your bed. "Don't be ridiculous. Have the surgery; you'll recover at the Blue Lock facility. Don't concern yourself with work-"

"Jinpachi, I don't want the surgery because I don't want to forget him."  

The doctor interrupts, "It's a common response. Your love for him is so intense that it's physically harming you. If he doesn't reciprocate your feelings and you forego the operation, you won't survive. But after the surgery, you'll be fine. You won't even remember him; his memory will be completely erased."

Your voice takes on a sharp tone, filled with annoyance. "I can't just erase him from my life. It's not some fleeting crush that I can simply move past. I'd rather die." You turn your back to the doctor and Ego, keeping your gaze away from both of them. "You just don't understand."

Letting out a heavy breath, the doctor nods in understanding. "Take some time to consider it," he says before quickly glancing at Ego with a pleading look, silently urging him to try and convince you to change your mind.

As soon as the door shuts, Ego plops down on your bed and gives you a frustrated glare. "Don't be difficult. I need you in the Blue Lock program." You remain silent, refusing to look at him.

"You can't be replaced if you die."

"As your employee?"

"As my friend. You've been my closest friend for the last twenty-five years."

You give a slight nod. "I can't have the surgery because of that very reason. My life has been intertwined with yours for as long as I can remember. Without you, I don't know what I would do. What would I do when I wake up after surgery? There would be nothing left for me; everything would be wiped away." From your high school days, your life was centered around Jinpachi, choosing what university you should attend and what degree to pursue in order to support him as best as possible. There will be nothing left for you in this life if you have the surgery. "Death is a kinder option."

You lean back on the bed, giving the genius a moment to process your words. "I'm the reason you have this disease?"

A sudden fit of coughing overtakes you, leaving you unable to answer verbally. Instead, you can only manage a meek nod of your head as you try to spit out the flowers that have lodged in your throat. Your chest heaves, and your eyes water as you struggle to catch your breath, surrounded by the flowers. The coughing subsides, and you are left gasping for air.

Ego watches you with a mix of concern and frustration; his brows furrowed deeply as he processes everything you've just revealed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

After wiping your mouth, you pick up a flower and show it to him. It's a white and red striped carnation. "This flower represents rejection."

Ego gazes at you for a brief moment, his expression devoid of emotion, before he lets out a deep sigh and rises from his seat. You wonder if he plans to walk away, leaving you to deal with your problems while he tends to his important work. But to your surprise, he stays put and instead shoots you an irritated look as he grabs the bag that Anri has brought for you, containing a fresh set of clothing. "We're heading back. Let's go." As he speaks, he carelessly throws your belongings into the bag without much thought or care.

"I don't think the doctor is going to let me out without surgery."

With a heavy thud, he drops the bag at the foot of your bed and climbs over you in one swift movement. His long limbs form a cage around you, trapping you beneath him. His intense gaze locks onto yours, daring you to speak against his actions. But before you can utter a word, his mouth descends upon yours, silencing any protest. "Instead of doing something as reckless as this again, talk to me first," he murmurs between kisses. His lips move feverishly against yours as he scolds you for your near-death experience. "You would've died if Anri hadn't told me." He pulls away to look at you with concern before claiming your lips once more. "The flowers will shrink in size before they disappear." He speaks sternly. You gently push him off, feeling another coughing fit coming on. "Now let's go. The boys have important training to complete."

You remove the flower from your mouth and toss it at his head, but he catches it effortlessly.

A gentle knock echoes through the room, but before you can respond, the door swings open to reveal a woman around your age. She stands in the doorway with confidence, holding a clipboard in her hands. She gives you a warm smile. "Hello, I'm Mika, a therapist specializing in cases like yours," she introduces herself. "I understand how difficult this process can be, and I'm here to guide you through it and help you process any emotions or concerns you may have before the surgery."

"She's not getting the surgery. I'm taking her home."

"I understand your desire to respect her wishes, but death by Hanahaki is an excruciating experience," she maintains a professional tone, but inside she's confused from what the doctor had told her, she was expecting the man in the patient's room to advocate for the surgery. Her composure begins to slip as she starts to feel anxious.

Ego tilts his head in irritation. "She's not going to die. Call a nurse in so I can discharge her from the hospital."

As you leave the hospital, a car is waiting for both of you outside. The therapist hands you some documents about Hanahaki's disease and advises you to return to the hospital if the symptoms worsen. Ego throws your bag into the backseat of the sleek black car and takes the papers from your hand. "Ego-san, where would you like to go?" The driver questions.

"The Blue Lock facility." After answering the driver, Ego hits the button to raise the divider between the two of you and the driver.

As soon as you have some privacy, he turns to face you. "You know that besides soccer, you are the only thing that matters to me. When did it appear?"

"A few months ago."

"So, you were not going to tell me and just die?"

"Yeah. I didn't want you to feel guilty for not returning my feelings. So, I didn't want to tell you. If I had the surgery, you would've known it was because of you. If I had just died, you would never know who it was."

"_____, I love you. Why did you think I've made sure to keep you by my side? Since graduating high school, I've made sure you'll stay by my side." His confession is blunt and to the point.

"More than soccer?"

"Don't push it," he warns, his voice low and intense.

He bends down to kiss you once more, his lips pressing firmly and insistent against yours. His warm tongue slides teasingly along your lower lip, silently pleading for entry. Your heart races with anticipation as you let him in and melt into the passionate kiss.

Breaking away from the kiss, Jinpachi rests his forehead against yours, his warm breath mingling with yours. "Maybe a bit more than soccer."

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Little Lady Masterlist

Just the Two of Us

This might be my favorite chapter yet... almost entirely because my babies get to finally be a couple <3

age twenty

Bang bang bang!

Bang bang BANG!

"Oh my God," Is all I can manage to groan, pulling the sleeves of my hoodie over my hands and curling in on myself as I move out of the warmth of my bed, just to hear the knocking once more.

"J! Please get the door, I need to grab some headache medication," I grumble, pulling up my hood as I make my way into the hall, Jack's voice meeting my ears.

"Mag's can you come here?"

"But medsss," I groan, still waddling my way to the door. And I wish I hadn't when I see who's there.

Trevor Zegras, standing with a grocery bag and flowers, smiling awkwardly as every minute of last nights conversation comes back to me.

Sure, Trevor and I have flirted for years, but last night I threw any self respect out the window and told him everything.

"I'm going to go grab breakfast with Nico and Dougie," Jack speaks up, grabbing his jacket and hat from the hanger. "When I get back, I want to be completely filled in and to remain not an uncle," He adds, his body out the door before I can even give him hell for his comments.

And then it's just Trevor and I, him still placed sturdy in the entry.

"Um, you can come in Trev," I invite, stepping back to make room for him to enter.

"I- you sounded pretty drunk last night, so when I got off the plane I grabbed some excedrin, gaterade, and some pancake mix," He rambles off, slipping off his snowy boots and gently setting the grocery bag on the counter to his left. "I uh, also got you these."

He's holding out the flowers like I might hit him with them or that he's apologizing, neither of which is necessary.

"I wanted to get you peonies since I know they're your favorite, but it's apparently not the season for it, so I got carnations instead."

"Trevor, you really didn't have to do all of this," Is my whispered response, just now looking up to meet his gorgeous eyes as I take the flowers, hugging them to my chest. "I'm sorry for bothering you last night."

"I flew from California to Jersey to see you and you think you bothered me with a call?" He gawks, having the audacity to laugh.

"I just know I was a lot," Is my reasoning, walking away to put the flowers in a vase in the kitchen. "And I brought up you asking my brothers about me even though that was years ago. I'm just trying to say I'm sorry."

His movements are faster than I'm expecting, his body suddenly not feet from me but instead with his arms on either side of my body.

We've been close before. But never with this look in his eyes.

A look that makes me feel that even though I'm in a hoodie, that I'm not realizing is Trevors from my last visit, and leggings, I'm the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Stop apologizing."

"Z-"

"Margaret Hughes, you are never a lot. You are never a bother," He adds. "You were right last night. I did ask your brothers permission to ask you out. Years ago. You were never meant to over hear what your brothers and I were talking about that night, cause God I could never imagine actually telling you how I felt. I mean, why ruin things?"

"How you felt?" That one word. Felt. Past tense.

His hand comes to the side of my head, cupping my cheek as his thumb rubs over my cheek.

"Feel," He mumbles. "How I feel."

I may need to take my pulse. I'm not sure. I may be dead.

"How do you feel, Trevor?"

Oh my God. Why did I ask that. Do I even want the answer?

"Mags," His voice is soft. Soft like the day he sat with me in the hockey rink for the last time. "I have been in love with you since we were 18. I never said anything because I didn't want to ruin things. I never wanted to risk not having you in my life. Next to your brother and Alex, you're my best friend. I couldn't ruin -"

"You could never ruin us, Trevor," I can't help but interrupt.

"Even by telling you that I'm in love with you?"

He looks so fragile, so anxious. Gone is the ever confident Ducks hotshot and here is a boy who is genuinely worried about what I say next.

"Trevor," I whisper. "I've been in love with you almost since we met. Not once has it not been you."

And then the world around me is blank except for the feeling of his lips on mine and my mine on his, his hands moving from the counter and to the back of my neck, mine linking over his shoulders and pulling him closer.

It starts slow, like we're exploring a new town like we had when he moved to Anaheim or I moved to Jersey. He's so close to me that every minute breath that leaves his nose brushing over my face.

But then it's faster, years full of love being expressed with every time our lips touch, him nipping my lips with his teeth as he pulls away.

And our foreheads touch, just like in every romance novel I've ever read, but none of those could imitate the kind of joy, the kind of love I feel right now.

"Why didn't you tell me you were into me?" Is the first thing he asks, his most charming smile on full display.

"Me?!" I can't help but yell, him jumping back as I lightly shove his chest. "You literally had my brothers approval and said nothing!! For years!"

"Okay, so I should have said something..." He agrees, "But I said something now? That counts right?"

I can't help but nod, pulling him head back down to my lips with a smile. "You have some time to make up for, but yes, that absolutely counts."

"If I saw I love you again do I get extra points?"

We both laugh at this, because we've said those simple words so many times, joking little goodbyes or on nights of drinking to bother my brother.

But now they hold so much more weight.

"You may get a few extra points," I offer with a chuckle.

His lips meet mine once more.

"Maggie Hughes, I love you."

"Trevor Zegras, I love you right back."

[tetsumie]

𝐈 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋

pairing: kuroo x gen!neutral reader

genre: angst

content: you love kuroo but circumstances make it a hard to love him unconditionally

a/n: slightly self indulgent :( but anyways this is my first fic on this blog and i'm trying to get back into writing again which feels really nice <3 also i miss my boy kuroo :(

god, how you wish you wouldn't have to do what you're about to do.

sitting on the bench in front of the lake, you fiddle with your fingers waiting for your boyfriend, kuroo, to show.

it wasn't a date or anything and he told you he was coming from a study group with some friends to meet you. the whole thing was an incredibly sporadic meetup.

"y/n!" you hear his voice and you turn your neck to see him slightly jogging towards you with his messy hair.

"hi tetsu," you reply with a small smile on his face.

he slows down his pace as he reaches you and his lips turn upwards into that smirk that you've grown to love in the months of your relationship with him.

his stupid little smirk.

"did i keep you waiting for too long?" he asks you.

you shook your head. "no no no! i was just looking at the lake for a bit and listening to some music. don't worry about it."

"sorry... study group kind of got carried away. organic chem is kicking our asses," he replies with a chuckle and you let out one as well.

"but... i did get you flowers!" he pulls out a bouquet of white carnations and your heart flutters but the feeling is immediately retracted when you remind yourself why you called him over.

"t-tetsu, you really didn't have to," you begin to stammer.

"sure i didn't have to but i wanted to," he kisses your cheek. "anything for my pretty."

he puts the bouquet in your hands and sits with you on the bench, viewing the lake with you. you're unusually quiet and kuroo feels something is off.

as he's about to ask you what's wrong, you intervene with, "tetsu can we walk for a bit?"

"y-yeah sure."

the both of you stand up and begin to walk around the sidewalk surrounding the lake. people of all kinds are here. some are walking their dogs, some with their kids, others out on a jog, some riding their skateboards, and more. even couples just like you and kuroo are present.

you still aren't saying anything and any topic kuroo brings up, you're giving curt responses and it's worrying him. what's going on?

"y/n," kuroo's upbeat voice turns to one with a bit of a more stern tone. "stop."

you stop moving and you turn to meet his honey golden brown eyes.

those honey golden brown eyes filled with love and affection just for you.

looking him in the eye was still intimidating to you even after all this time and you felt the goosebumps form on your arm.

"what's going on?" he tilts his head. "you haven't said much the entire time we've been here."

you break eye contact and you're looking everywhere else on his face other than his eyes now. you know the moment you look into his eyes, he's going to read you like an open book and you're going to burst into tears.

"my mom and dad want us to break up."

the world around kuroo silences. he can't hear the dogs barking anymore or the sound of the skateboard wheels riding along the cement or the laughter from the children walking around with their families. the only thing he can hear are your words.

"oh."

you can see the heartbreak take over his handsome facial features and you can't help but feel at fault for all of it. it's your fault now that he's upset.

"but why? i didn't do anything! i mean, we haven't formally met, but we've said hello and stuff on call! i don't think i was disrespectful? right, i wasn't disrespectful?" he begins to ramble.

"no, tetsu, you were never disrespectful to them." you reply in a low voice.

"then why do they want us to break up? it doesn't make sense.. we haven't done anything wrong?" he asks.

"they just... they think me in a relationship with you is all too soon. us being in such a committed relationship is too soon."

you bit your lip waiting for his response and his gaze refused to leave your face. "y/n, there must be something more to this. tell me the entirety of their reasoning."

goddammit, he would always be able to read you like an open book.

"they were talking about how... well.. they don't think you're good for me.." you mumble.

he doesn't say anything for a moment and you feel your heart drop. you look at him and now his face is unreadable. you can't seem to figure out what's going through his mind.

"i'll talk to them," determination laced with his voice. "i'll change their mind."

"tetsuro, please..." you grab his wrist and you refuse to look back up at him knowing if you do, the tears will unconventionally fall. "it's not... it's not worth it."

"our relationship is worth it to me!" he says, his voice growing louder. "your parents are trying to pull us apart and you're just letting them! don't you want to try?"

"don't you think i did?!" you reply.

"i told them you're different! i told them how much i love you and how much you care about me and how i'm willing to spend the rest of my life with you if you asked me to! i would do it in a heartbeat! i told them that you, you, are my first love."

he hears the pain in your voice as you begin to tell him.

"kuroo, i never wanted to hurt you but i... i'm in a tough spot where i don't want to hurt my parents but i don't want to hurt you either."

he feels the wet tear droplets on his wrist and he realizes you're crying. and it hits him.

"how long have you been keeping this in?"

"..."

"how long, y/n?"

"about a month now..."

you've known for so long and yet you couldn't tell him. were you that horrified to tell him about it? he sighs. he hates the fact that you're crying.

and a part of him feels responsible for your tears.

"so what now?" he asks. "what do you want to do?"

you begin to wipe your tears, still refusing to look him in the face. you can't bare to see the expression on his face after everything that's been said.

"i... i don't know."

silence fills the space between you too and neither one of you know what to say. you refuse to look at him and he won't stop looking at your figure in front of him, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you'll look up at him.

"y/n," he says with a strength that you weren't expecting from him. "look at me... please?"

it comes out as more of a request and you can't not look up at him. your heart breaks even more at the sight. there are tear stains on his face and his eyes are stained light red.

his eyes. his honey golden brown eyes. the ones that would hold a soft gaze reserved just for you have now turned erratic and empty altogether.

he looks so vulnerable right now and you feel that it's your fault that your relationship is crumbling so quickly.

"let's break up kuroo," you tell him before he can say anything to sway your heart and mind. "i've been thinking about this for too long and i need to accept my parents' wishes."

his heart chips even more when you call him by his last name. his body screams to stop you from making this decision. he wants to believe this is all some horrifying prank but with the way your eyes are looking at him, he knows it's not.

"okay," he says.

"okay," you reply back.

he bends down a little and takes your face in his palms and you resist the urge to rub your cheek along his familiar palm like you used to. he rubs his thumb along your cheek and you feel the hot tears forming in your eyes.

right as a tear slip pasts your eye, kuroo's lips meet your cheeks and he begins to kiss away every tear that seems to slip away from your eyes.

you're never going to be able to feel his touch on your face again.

you're never going to feel the warmth of his skin on yours again.

you're never going to be able to feel the way his calloused hand fits into yours.

you're never going to be able to feel him again.

his last kiss ends on your lips and you don't have it in you to kiss him back, scared of making a decision you would regret. as he pulls away from you, you open his palm and place the bouquet of flowers back in his hands.

"don't give this back to me; it's yours," he tells you.

"please take it back... i don't want them."

with much hesitation, he takes back the flowers he picked out for you and his arms drop to his sides.

"i love you, you know that right?" you begin to say. "i love you. so fucking much."

he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i love you, always," he speaks it into the air and places a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

"i always will."

© tetsumie 2023 all rights reserved 

[ybcpatrick]

i want to tell you about my nana.

her first name was mary, but she never ever went by it, that was just a catholic thing her mum did. she went by one of her middle names, nadine.

she was born on prince edward island on december 1st, 1949, the last of seven children. she moved to ontario in 1969, met my grandfather, got married on june 26th, 1971, then had their first child, my dad, a year to the very day. she had my aunt three years later. she loved them more than anything else on earth, and did everything in her power to make sure they were happy, safe, and cared for, even into their adult years. that extended to her grandchildren tenfold, and she adored being nana. to this day, she was the owner of the biggest heart i have ever encountered.

she always had carnations on the dining room table, and planted sunflowers along the fence that grew taller than her every single year. she went to clown college. she worked in the women's section at giant tiger. she was absurdly good at golf, and drew smiley faces on all of her balls so she knew they were hers from far away. she went to church every sunday her whole life. she took her coffee black, and i still have all of her mugs. she loved star trek: the next generation (data was her favourite), charlie chaplin, red skelton, the littlest hobo, touched by an angel, and m*a*s*h. she drove a blue oldsmobile with a wooden dolphin necklace hanging from the rearview mirror. her halloween costumes were always expertly crafted. her mother-son dance with my dad at my parents' wedding was to coat of many colours by dolly parton. she hung pictures of wolves and foxes around her house. she rocked a turtleneck with golden jewelry on the daily. all of her left shoes had a sole riser on them, because one leg was shorter than the other. she made sure she always kept nesquik syrup and double-crème cookies in her cupboards. she loved crafts, especially collages, and painting on woodwork that papa had started. the coffee and side-tables in her living room looked like gigantic books, and i can still smell the inside of the coffee table drawer where she kept my art supplies. her christmas village took up a solid third of the living room every year, glittering like magic.

she was strong-willed. she was driven. she was creative. she was faithful. she was compassionate. she was patient. she was the type to hear a baby babble and respond in kind, taking the nonsense sounds and treating them like they were articulate and valuable. to her, they were. everything a child said or did was the most important thing she'd heard all day, and she made sure that child knew it. everything i ever said to her was met with an unbelievable understanding and encouragement that i haven't experienced since.

she called me, and only me, pumpkin. she let me bring pooh bear with us everywhere, and even got him a high chair that hooked to the edge of the table so he could eat meals with us. she could sharpen my pencil crayons with her pinky nail. she kept everything i ever drew, and is the reason why i still do. she never made me feel silly, or embarrassed, or like i was too young or foolish to understand something. she never made me feel weird, because she was weird, too. she made sure we knew, while we had her and long after we didn't, that she loved us more than words. the eleven years i got to have her were like warm sunlight through the trees. she was comfort and quiet understanding wrapped up in a single person. she was my everything. she still is.

she died on tuesday, july 24th, 2012 around 4am. she was sixty-two years old. it was lung cancer, the kind that non-smokers and children get (and ironically, she had smoked at one point, but managed to kick the habit a few years before i was born). a year after she passed, her ashes were scattered over her brother's oyster bay on the island. my way by frank sinatra was the last song on the playlist for her celebration of life, and because of that, i can't listen to it more than once a year. but i can't deny that it was the perfect song choice for her. she was unyielding in her pursuit of her own happiness, and she was gonna take everyone she loved up with her, like it or not. she never compromised who she was. my nana was unapologetically herself, right to the end. and where she stopped, i decided i had to carry it on myself.

if you're still reading this, i'm glad to have gotten to share her memory with you. it's been twelve years since she had to go, and i was only eleven at the time; i will have to grieve her for longer than i ever knew her. but she's still alive every time i think of her, or i tell someone about her. and now i've told you about her.

thank you for letting her live again with you, even for just a moment or two. nana would've loved you, too.

[pomegranateboba]

Favourite (Vega)

CW: angst, kinda delulu vega, this fic was shorterr than I thought but who cares

"You'll always be my favourite."

You looked over at Vega. Both of you were still young, barely reaching 6. Vega turned away, his face flushed with a shade of pink that stood out against his pale complexion. You put down the flowers you were holding, excitedly going over to plop yourself next to him on the grass.

"Really? I am?!" You asked, trying to get a better look at Vega's face.

Vega felt his face grow even warmer, as your innocent self shifts even closer to him.

He nods, too embarrassed to say a word. You, on the other hand, had perked up at his action. A huge smile on your face, you wrap your arms around him in a bear hug. "Well, you're my favourite too!" You beamed.

"...Really?" Vega mumbled, face still turned away from you.

"Mhm hm!" You nodded earnestly. "Wait, hold on," You ran back to your place, picking up a flower, one you didn't know the name and symbolism of yet, and passing it to him. "Here." You put the flower in his hands.

Vega stared at the flower, a small bashful smile making its way onto his face.

"Thank you."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

He shouldn't be doing this.

He shouldn't be following you, stalking you like this.

But he needed to know if his summoner his safe.

Vega walked quietly, a good distance behind you. Where were you going? Why are you going away from him? Was he not enough for you?

His heart sank when he found you in a field, chatting happily to someone that wasn't him.

It wasn't fair that you had to spend so much time with other people. It wasn't fair that he couldn't have your undivided attention.

His hand clenched around the hilt of his rapier, before loosening his grip. No, he can't do this. It's not right.

His other hand fiddled with the stalk of a flower. Not the exact flower you gave him as children, but it was the same type.

Gloved fingers traced over the petals of the red carnation. As a child, he didn't recognise the symbolism of the flower he received. But how he knew, didn't he? What you gave him that day was basically a confession of your feelings right?

You liked, no, you loved him, right?

Then, how come you still talk to them? Why can't you spend more time with him? Did you hate him now? His heart twisted unpleasantly at the thought.

No it can't be. You've been so kind to him, there's nothing wrong with you. He chided himself, how could he ever doubt your feelings? You were absolutely perfect, kinder than any saint, smarter than any mage, more beautiful than any star.

No, the problem wasn't with you. Nor was it with him.

It was with them. How dare they take you away from him. How dare they steal away your time and attention from him.

It's not fair. You loved him first, no?

Then, he thought about how you were always so kind, so willing to put yourself in danger for others. Of course, he loved you for that, but it can get rather...irritating when you bother saving the other sorcerers. They don't know you like he did, so why do you care so much for them?

Vega quickly made his leave when he saw you and them stand up, slipping away into an empty room. Closing the door quietly behind him, he sat down.

He fiddled with the carnation, before plucking its petals, watching them fall gently to the floor.

You love him, you love him not, you love him, you love him not.

You love him.

A giddy smile made his way onto his face. Of course you love him, why did he ever doubt you?

You'll always be his favourite.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

I wrote this starving to death, about to throw up, having a huge headache and in the middle of math class, but Vega shall prevail 🙏

[qiuthewhumps]

White and red handkerchief: [09/07/2024]

Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”

[YUUTO MIRAI AU^2] — 4070 words [@mellowwhumps owns Ida]

CW: hanahaki, unintentional SH (he clawed at his throat trying to get rid of it), slight vomit (blood and flowers), brief mention of child experimentation, medical inacuracy but it's hanahaki okay

Context: Yuuto gets hanahaki for a co-worker. Five times where he's tried to ignored it. Then, the one time he does acknowledge it. Late because guess who said 4 pages maximum and hit 10 pages instead.

@whumperless-whump-event

☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆…━━━━━·:*☆

I.

Yuuto didn’t know what happened. He had been in the employee lounge, listening to Saora’s new fixation on Porbeagles, some sort of shark from what Yuuto understood.

Yet, for once, he zoned out to Saora’s voice. His eyes automatically fell on someone else in the lounge. Ida. His thoughts slowly switched from sea creatures to Ida. Their last interaction, the check-up results he got for all the people he had under him, the simple way Ida looks, how Ida’s arm had been—

Then did his throat feel sore—as if something was trying to crawl out. He had to excuse himself from whatever Saora was talking about, running to the bathroom. Somehow that took more breath out of him than usual. He hunched over the sink; his lungs felt smaller almost. He wretched into the sink.

Dry cough after dry cough—till it was wet and suddenly, the sink bowl had a stain of red… and a bloodied petal.

What the fuck?

Multiple thoughts ran through Yuuto’s head as he stared at the blood. That couldn’t be normal. His breath hitched as the sound of footsteps neared. The blood and petal flushed down the sink’s drain as he turned on the tap, wiping off the blood on his lips.

A co-worker he couldn’t remember walked in as Yuuto turned off the faucet. He paced out of the bathroom. A petal? Why would there be a petal? It made nonsense—and yet the metallic taste in his mouth haunted him.

He tried to retrace his steps. Had he eaten anything odd today? He skipped breakfast and hadn’t had lunch yet. Yesterday’s dinner was some simple instant noodles since he was tired—so not food. Had he gone near flowers recently? Hells, he hadn’t been out since the hectic week started.

Was it because he looked at Ida? He couldn’t help but scoff. What type of insanity was that? He took a deep breath in, trying to get his nerves to settle as he walked back to the lounge room. Saora still waited for him there at the table. Ida was, thankfully, not there—

Gods, why did that make his heart hurt out of nowhere?

II.

“These are…?” Yuuto trailed off as he flicked the petal in his hand. His gaze focused onto the full flower on the table.

“Carnations,” she supplied as she held the full flower in her hand. He could almost feel her stare on him. “They’re not native here. I’m surprised you got some.”

Thanks. He threw them up in the bathroom. Yuuto nodded along with Venere’s words. Carnations. He swore he heard of those flowers before. “Do they mean anything?”

Love and admiration, usually.” Venere shrugged, She eyed him in curiosity. Yuuto could almost hear the questions. “Secret admirer?”

“Secret admirer,” Yuuto lied through his teeth with a soft smile. He wished it was a secret admirer—that he didn’t just vomit out an entire bulb of petals in the confines of his own office before rinsing it and handing it over to Venere for assistance.

“Oh? Serious?” She asked, surprised. Venere clicked her tongue in thought. She placed the flower down on the table between. “I have a few guesses. Would you like to hear them? It seemed they went to quite lengths to get these too.” She pointed closer to the center of the bulb. “Bled over the flowers—must think you love carnations if they bled for it.”

“Maybe they do…” Yuuto sighed as he flicked the petal upwards. He watched as it slowly floated back down to the wooden table. He got up; the chair he sat on screeched against the floor. “Thanks, but no. I can wait. I’ll see you around. You can keep the flowers.”

“Mh…” He could almost feel Venere’s stare at him, scrutinizing. “Okay, take care. Don’t stay up too late like last night.”

Yuuto paused at that, turning back to look at the woman. “You were awake?”

“No, a guess.” Her smile was wry. It made Yuuto chuckle a bit as he ran his hand through his hair. “Seems like I was right.” Her smile became a scoff.

“We have our work,” Yuuto weakly argued with a shrug. He gave a charming smile. He turned away, ready to walk away. “Late nights are inevitable—”

“Ludicrum told me something interesting.” Venere hummed. The screech of her chair was almost too loud in the room. Her steps were almost louder. Gods, some part of him hated the woman for all that she was competent. “Something is wrong, obvious enough for it to notice. That’s not like you. You hate that amount of vulnerability. You can usually keep its mouth shut.”

“Since when were you my therapist? And where have you been if you were my therapist?” Yuuto sighed desperately. He looked toward Venere again. His eyes narrowed unintentionally. He was certainly less than pleased with the direction of a simple flower identification conversation. “When did you visit Ludi? That’s not like you, and last I’m aware I didn’t sign them off to your care any time soon while I’m busy.”

“Coughing. Frequent bathroom breaks,” Venere listed out nonchalantly. She tilted her head. “Are you sick? Ill? No, can’t be. You’re talking to people without a mask. You’re not that reckless. Something else is wrong. Spill.”

“Nothing. You're overthinking. I ordered spicy food and my stomach hasn't been having it with me.” Yuuto huffed and quickly stepped out before Venere could bother him more. The clock outside her lab greeted him.

Three o’clock. A meeting at half-hour. No point in getting pissed off at her.

III.

Yuuto felt hazy. He wasn't sure when he had started finding the floor so interesting that he started lying on it—oh, right, he could barely breathe moments ago. The comfort of the cold tiled floor below him was little to none. He came from…? The lounge? Ida’s office? Cafeteria? 

It was awkward, trying to push himself up off the floor. His heart was thumping against his chest, as if trying to break his sternum. His breaths are short, stifled. That wasn’t normal. What’s wrong with him? Gods, what even happened before this? His knees felt weak. Okay, can’t put his weight on those. Sitting, then. No problem.

Breathe in. Breathe out. A lot harder than it usually was.

Something was against his back, a wall, presumably. Hopefully. He was fine. Wonderful, even. He choked the next second. His throat was full. Too full. Why couldn’t he breathe? His hands scratched at his throat—choking. Something was choking him.

A guttural sound left him as he gagged on something he didn’t know what. He was digging into his skin. His nails no doubt would draw blood but if it just meant to get the damn thing out of his throa—He vomited.

It stained the pristine tiled floor. Worse, it wasn’t even the usually yellow or green bile. It was red. Blood, if the scent didn’t already tip him off. Almost tauntingly, in the middle of his bloody—literally—throw up, were two carnations. Pale red and pink.

Didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. His neck was bleeding. That was more of an issue than some stupid fucking carnations.

Standing up hurt. His knees still felt like paper. His vision was doubled, or maybe it was dizziness. Self-diagnosing was never his strong point, but that was better than telling people he was vomiting flowers—and he was back there again. No, no. Bandages. Bandages and warm water was what he needed. Not thoughts. Not inferences.

Just one step at a time. One step forward to the bathroom. He could use the wall as support. Just had to reach the bathroom. One step forward. Left. Right. The bathroom door was right there. He was okay.

He was fine. Fix. Clean. Do his job. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just as Salomea needed him to do.

IV.

“The hell happened to you?” First headache of the day, Yuuto noted as he glanced at Frances across his desk. He bit on the tip of his pen, gnawing. He let go of his pen tip.

“If I told you I had an appointment with—” A cough. “—a feral experiment who clawed me.” Yuuto tilted his head to her. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Would you believe me?”

“Frankly, out of the certain handful of… various personalities here—yes, yes, I would.” Frances nodded as she hummed before glancing away at the clock in the room. “Unfortunately, it is ten in the morning. I know for a fact you don’t do appointments with clawing things until noon at the earliest.”

“Fucked up.” Yuuto sighed as he lifted his legs onto the corner of his desk. He bit harder on his pen as he looked through the paper Frances had submitted to him. A request form for specific equipment for a certain experiment.

“Are you talking about me or yourself?” Frances asked back, curious.

“Well, for one, your request form is shit. I know you’re—” Another cough. “—better at persuading me with your speeches so start talking.” Yuuto slid the form back onto his desk before clicking his tongue. “For two, yeah. I fucked up. That’s why I have bandages on my throat. Thanks.”

“I am simply asking for a respirator for one of the experiments—” Frances started, and Yuuto swore he read this on the paper already.

“Respirators aren’t something you commonly request. Why now? What’s the difference?” Yuuto queried as he tilted his head, coughing into his hand for a moment. “Something changed. What is it?”

“An experiment had started to show immunity to a certain gas,” Frances reiterated. She gestured to the form. “Mithridatism. That’s what I intend to accomplish. Giving me a respirator is the easiest way to further this as quickly as possible.”

“Hm, and?” He narrowed his eyes on the other. “What benefits? Tell me pros and cons. Why do you need this respirator instead of the injecting way? Why gas?”

“I have a belief that if we are able to get this experiment to have immunity to toxic gas. We have just made a fellow co-worker who can help with highly toxic experiments. A docile one.” Frances sighed as she leaned back against her chair. “Pros, we get a kid we can manipulate into assisting us with more dangerous matters without worrying about killing a staff member. Cons, it’s a kid. Gas because we have enough poison swallowers for chemicals. We need a poison breather for other experiments.”

“Hn,” Yuuto hummed with a nod. He placed his legs down. He opened a drawer from his desk, flicking through the files before tossing one onto the desk. “Tell me how you will avoid this outcome, and I'll approve of it.”

He watched as Frances took the file, having to cough into a tissue after feeling some warmth in his throat. Bloody cough since seven a.m. in the most literal way possible. He wasn’t taking chances of staining the papers with blood by accident.

“You just can't seem to shake that cough, can you?” Frances suddenly pointed out while still looking at the file. Yuuto felt the headache hitting. “What did you do to yourself?” There was an almost strong underlying question with the fact his bandages were on his neck that he refused to acknowledge.

“Doesn't matter. You had a request, and I gave you an answer. “ Yuuto stared her down for a moment. “Deal with it. Unless you have questions, I encourage you to write another request form asap.”

“Venere has your blood sample.” Frances tilted her head. He bit his lip. The stupid flower. Well, there was someone he could visit later when his schedule cleared up. “Thought you were against that thing? Maybe she’ll grow a plant with your blood or something.”

“If she does, I wouldn’t be surprised.” Yuuto sighed. He picked up his pen, twirling it between his fingers. Venere was always too curious for her own good. Maybe it’d be fruitful for once. He closed his eyes, rubbing his temple before making a shoo-ing motion at Frances. “Now out with you. I have to meet Salomea in ten minutes, and honestly, I am nowhere near prepared.”

He heard the screech of a chair. Then, footsteps. The door closed. His headache hadn’t gone away. The silence wasn’t better. An acute awareness of his shortness of breath, settling in. Ten minutes.

V.

“Good morning, lovely Venere.” Yuuto opened the door, not bothering to knock as he entered the middle room between the greenhouse and the rest of the lab. His fatigue was getting worse. Gods, he was sure he walked into two different walls before entering here.

Venere was evidently there, leaning on a table while reading a paper. She glanced at him from the paper. “It’s two in the morning, why are you here?”

“It’s morning and you’re awake. Good morning.” Yuuto smiled wryly as he stepped toward her. His vision was getting worse, looking around was already testing him with how dizzy he got. “Paper.”

He was blankly stared at for a moment before a sigh from the other. Venere took out a folded paper from her back pocket. Yuuto took it, unfolding it before sitting on the table Venere was leaning on. A CBC test, wonderful. How Venere was able to do this with—probably—diluted and a small amount of blood, was beyond him.

“So, what’s wrong with me?” Yuuto huffed as he looked over the results. The numbers looked normal to him, which meant he got dizzy from the small font. “If you’re having a bet with anyone else. It was Frances, Wednesday, ten in the morning.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure. You should ask me at a more reasonable hour.” Venere took out a pack of cigarettes. She offered one of her cigarettes. “Take one, I just won ten dollars.”

“I don’t like smoking.” He took one anyway, placing it between his lips. Yuuto placed the paper aside, taking out his own lighter. “Differential diagnosis?”

“Unless, you want to hear insanity, none. You’re fine… And have a concerning amount of blood loss and lack of oxygen.” Venere clicked her tongue. A habit, he noticed. “You hate smoking.”

“Insanity is welcomed. Have you seen where we work?” Yuuto blew out the smoke, glancing up. An open ceiling window despite the time, at least. “I know. Smells horrible. Horrible for the lungs. Nicotine is addictive. Half of the people who use it don't know how to dispose of it. There’s a lot of reasons to hate cigarettes.”

“Hanahaki. A disease. Lungs. Not contagious…” Venere paused. She glanced at him. He could almost feel her overanalyzing him. He didn’t like it. “You already know what I’m going to say. Don’t you? That’s why you are smoking.”

“Sounds Japanese,” Yuuto replied, ignoring the rest of what Venere had told him. “Is that why you are assuming I know? Don’t even know if I’ve been there in all honesty.”

“It’s when flowers find your lungs very compatible for growing compared to actual soil,” Venere explains quietly, slowly. A bit too soft, a bit too loud for him. “The cause… Undefined. Too few patients, too few similarities.”

“Fun.” Yuuto took another drag. Flowers. Carnations. In his lungs. Dizziness, nausea, irritability, headache, short breaths, lack of coordination. “Cool. I’m a living bouquet.”

“There is a way—wait, you’re not going to ask for a cure?” Venere asked incredulously. “Are you stupid? Has the lack of oxygen in your head made you mad!?”

“You know why I’m smoking,” Yuuto took another drag as if to make a point. “Connect the dots. Isn’t that what you’re so great at? A need to know everything?”

The silence was almost stiffening.

“You know you’re dying.” Venere clicked her tongue again. “That doesn’t explain why you won’t hear out a solution to, I don’t know, not die.”

“Because you would have mentioned it first and not the sickness. As much as you like putting bets on me, you need me alive.” Yuuto clicked his tongue, copying out of boredom. “Which tells me that there’s a side effect. Something, I won’t like. That’s why you need to tell me what’s wrong to convince me to take whatever cure you found.”

“... A surgery, medium-risk failure. Surgically remove the flowers.” Venere started after a moment. “The drawback… People claim to have lost all sense of emotion to someone they know. No pattern. Sometimes, it’s their spouse, another it was their friend, in another case it was a business rival, sometimes they don’t even know who… But I know you don’t like losing things.”

“Wonderful.” Yuuto got off the table, taking the CNS results paper with him. “I’m not getting it. I’ll see you around, have a nice sleep. I’ll be burning this if you’re curious.”

“Why?” He had to hold back a sigh. He looked back at her. Venere's eyebrows were furrowed, frustrated, confused. It almost felt amusing, seeing someone who always had the need to know be confused.

“I think I know. I know who I’ll lose my emotions for.” Yuuto shrugged as he started walking again. The clock was almost taunting, two-thirty a.m. “And if, just if, one in billions of a chance I am right, I’m not taking that surgery. Good day, Venere.”

I.

Yuuto watched as the ashes of a medical paper burned into a trashcan. There was at least a window open nearby. There wasn’t too much to worry about. He pocketed his lighter. His breathing wasn’t getting better, even more so after smoking.

Breathe in, breathe out. He was going to die… because of carnations. Love and admiration. He sighed. He needed a walk. Around this wretched place he called home would be just fine.

The corridors were quiet. The lights were still on, fluorescent. Empty offices, empty labs. The floor below him was the same as any grounding in the entire building. Venere would probably fall asleep in the greenhouse. Saora was probably in the lounge. Elowen would be asleep. Frances too. Ida—

He felt his chest constrict. Almost as if another flower had bloomed. He slowly breathed, leaning against the wall. Fuck, he should have asked Venere how long he had. Then again, would it have changed anything?

Questions were only meant for asking if they changed something. Somehow, knowing when didn’t feel like it was going to change anything. Yuuto was still going to die. No point in planning it all out. Extra stress and he’d probably die faster too. It’d be nice to just do a final round of his resting place in case he was more doomed than he thought—

An office light was on.

Yuuto paused. A shuddered breath before taking slow steps over. He glanced in through the small window on the door. A familiar mop of hair, half-shaved, laid atop the desk. A silence, contemplating.

He opened the door almost soundlessly before closing it. He sighed as he glanced at the plaque on the desk, “Seong Ida”. Then, he looked over to the man on the desk. A match, he’d say. Yuuto wondered where Ida’s assistant was. Maybe they already retired for the night like any sane person. He hummed as he glanced over to the couch in the corner of the office. 

Carrying someone the same height and heavier than him, should be a problem. It was in fact a problem, if Yuuto wasn’t used to carrying boxes and children around when he was younger. He took it slow, gently sliding Ida out of the chair and into his arms. Just to the couch. Even the limited oxygen he was breathing wouldn’t stop him too much. He stepped slowly, less likely to get dizzy.

Yuuto carefully placed Ida onto the couch. He quietly stared at the other, gently tucking a stray hair away from Ida’s face. He had a guess. A one in eight billion chance of being correct. He stood up, only to be hit with dizziness—too fast of a movement. Yuuto cursed under his breath as he shut his eyes tight. Blanket, he needed to find a blanket or fabric. He doubted the cold would be any more forgiving than it usually was in the night.

He found himself waltzing around the office, searching despite his less than acceptable state. He found an old blanket in a deep drawer. It did get too cold at times. Maybe he should ask for more heaters especially when winter was heating.

“One in multiple billions of people…” Yuuto unfolded the blanket, trying to make sure it wouldn’t get on the floor as he stalked over to Ida. “In percentage… That must be incredibly low…”

He draped the blanket over the sleeping man, hopefully this would make it more comfortable. “Low… But not zero… It could be you… Maybe not…” Yuuto mumbled as he carefully tucked the blanket under Ida’s chin, observing. Every little detail of his co-worker’s face. The flat nose bridge to the chapped parted lips that were properly breathing air unlike his own. “What makes you different…?”

Yuuto made a quiet laugh as he looked for a couch cushion. He’d rather not be the reason for Ida’s neck pain tomorrow. “They were all here before you… Venere, Saora, Frances, Elowen… And yet, it’s you… It’s always involving you when my throat dies… I got a fainting spell after that one time in the cafeteria with you… Or was it in your office? I’m not sure.” He held a stiff cushion in his hands, good enough. He smoothly slipped the pillow between Ida’s head and the couch. “Lack of oxygen does that, Venere would probably say.”

He wasn’t sure why he was talking. Maybe to fill in the silence. Maybe he needed to be heard. To voice out thoughts that would never have left his mouth but he could pretend they did and that Ida heard them.

“Are carnations your favorite…? I think they’d suit you, at least…” Yuuto sighed as he crouched down again. What was he doing? “They could be any color you dream of… They could be any color we want them to be… and no one would be none the wiser to any color being abnormal. People would still think they’re pretty and not fake…”

Yuuto watched as Ida seemed to relax as the blanket started to warm him up. It was pleasing to see him relax. To be calm. To be somewhat happy even in the confines of a couch and old blanket. His chest hurts, pain that came into bloom. A flower, maybe. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He smiled, it hurt. He felt like coughing blood. It could wait.

“Maybe… Maybe you’d be happy…” Yuuto huffed as he sat on the ground. He was talking to no one, but he could pretend. “I doubt you ever liked me that much…” He wanted to laugh, cough, throw up, cry, anything—and yet, he could only seem to smile. He was lost. He didn’t know what to do. What was he doing?

“But I like you… Does that count for anything…?” He mumbled out, a query he didn’t want an answer for. Because it didn’t. A fool he was, warned and yet kept going. Salomea always said that the underlying reason science wouldn’t progress was because of emotions, and at the same time it was the only thing keeping it going. That meant there were useless ones.

This warmth from being close to Ida. The admiration he held for the other. The simple enjoyment of seeing Ida relax. Were they useless? He felt queasy.

A waste?

Then, why did it feel so good to keep? The pain it caused didn’t matter. He still walked into Ida’s office. If these emotions were useless, then, why does it make him feel? Why did it feel good? Why couldn’t he let go even if it hurt?

Yuuto was going to die. Yuuto couldn’t let go.

He breathed slowly. It was getting harder; was he getting worse? He felt like he couldn't speak almost. Yuuto stood up. He could at least not faint in Ida’s office. His vision was failing him as the pain burnt his lungs and heart. It felt like a flame that was to punish him. For what? Being human? He wasn’t sure.

The door was in front of him. The knob was cold. His dizziness got worse. His throat was closing up again. He should sit down. Let his body try to recalibrate. He opened the door.

He blacked out.

[acerathia]

two birds || Act IV

Summary:

Hanahaki: A disease stemming from bottling up romantic feelings, as these decide to grow inside the lungs and the blood system of the sick person, resulting in flowers. Thus the first symptoms are the coughing up of flower petals accompanied by pain and breathlessness, as the flower continues to grow as long as the affected does not confess their feelings. Alternatively, the growing flower can be removed via surgery, but it may affect the ill person’s ability to feel love in various forms. Or How do you react with falling in love with no real chance? Simple, a tragedy in five acts.

Wordcount: 2.0k

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing:

Obito Uchiha / Reader

Tags/CW:

features of a tragedy, hanahaki disease, childhood friends, some degree of isolation, No War AU,

Note:

Please note that I choose to not tag some stuff, as it contains heavy spoilers, proceed with caution and with the knowledge that everything is either connected to the tragedy aspect, or the hanahaki disease itself. i almost forgot lmao

Scene I. – YOU and OBITO UCHIHA, dancing under the stars, floating in the background

The scene: A lake under the clear sky, a place of the desired dreams.

Soft lips on yours, breath intermingling, connecting. You take a step back, letting your eyes glide over his face, a bright smile crinkling, stars filling the vastness of his eyes, locked onto yours, only on you. And you open your mouth, head empty to actual words, but your heart bursting with them. But before you could even utter a single word, he starts grimacing, a cough rattling the picture in front of you. Petals dripping down his lips, staining them like blood.

His eyes still fixed on your figure. "This is your fault…" he rasps, flowers blooming on his tongue, the stems breaking through his throat, his body evaporating in red petals, sticking to your skin, entering your pores, integrating themselves into your bloodstream, red on red.

And then you're all alone, red staining your insides and the beds of your nails. Nothing but flowers and pain and hurt. And you, useless, lonely, sad. This is what your fate is, what it's always supposed to be. Filled with the void and death.

Peaceful in its own way, yet crawling over your skin like long lost touches. You can't help but scratch over your veins, trying to get rid of that growing itch, only to see flowers blooming in the open scratches, bursting your skin open.

You feel your ribs cracking and creaking, pressure against the suddenly brittle bones, taking your breath away. It feels like you're about to burst open, to bloom within splatters of red petals.

Scene II. – YOU, all alone, with the open window dragging a breeze into your heavy room

The scene: Your home, stagnant breath of the lost.

With a gasp, you open your eyes, the rays of the sunrise barely hitting your lashes. Your fingers curl on your chest, feeling the bones resting in their place. And you want to take a breath, but something has lodged itself in your throat once again, and you have no other choice but to hack and cough, iron coating your tongue until something fills your mouth, the taste of pollen against your teeth. As usual you simply pluck it out of your insides, keen on getting rid of it, only to halt your movements. The petals fill your palm, colors blooming between your fingers. Only it isn't only a petal but a whole flower, your blood invisible against its softness.

A carnation, layers upon layers draped over your skin. And you do nothing for a moment, nothing but simply stare at the flower which has bloomed inside of you. You take a grating breath before crushing the fragile plant between your fingers. The movement sending jolts of pain through your joints, creaking and cracking, feeling swollen.

With this, the pain starts, as every bone feels under pressure, barely able to move, static and yet ever-growing. A curse tumblew weakily over your lips, hot, feverish pain too overbearing to properly think, much less move. You don't know if this is a side effect from the flowers, or if you suddenly got sick with whatever sickness causes that sort of pain.

In the end it doesn't matter, as you have to report it to the Hokage nonetheless, your incapacity a variable they now have to consider. So you put some comfortable clothes on, ignoring the growing bruises along your veins, and make your way to the Hokage, to your Sensei.

Scene III. – YOU, and afterwards MINATO NAMIKAZE, the smell of paper and ink, the smell of responsibility and the oncoming talk

The scene: The tower, where all the powerful men had resided for hours to come

With a rasp you make sure nothing is clogged in your throat, preferring to not choke in the middle of speaking, before you finally knocked at the door. A hushed murmur can be heard until said door opens, an Anbu leaving the office with hanging, tired shoulders but content nonetheless.

You can't help but knock on the frame once again, to make sure he is ready to allow you to enter. He looks up and waves you in with a smile.

"Good morning! A pleasant surprise to see you so early," he welcomes you warmly, eyes flitting over your face and features slowly morphing into worry. "Still sick?"

You nod slowly, careful to not set off another bout of prickly pain. "I'm sorry, Minato-sensei, I think I need a prolonged leave. I– I won't get better any time soon…" Your voice is hoarse, the last few days have turned your throat raw.

You know, you should've told him the truth, but can you really? Can you really tell him and risk him thinking of you as someone lovesick? As someone controlled by their feelings until they kill you? As someone weak willed, not simply confessing or undergoing surgery? You cherish the man in front of you, and the mere thought of him filled with pity, borderline disgust cracks your ribs, your soul.

So you keep your condition a secret, until it's too late, until nothing else matters. Until your love consumes you, turning you into its habitat.

He frowns but doesn't say anything before signing the necessary paperwork for your extended leave. But before he hand you the piece of paper he says: "If you don't mind, visit the hospital on the way. Maybe they can help you."

You snort. "Thanks sensei, but it's probably some heat exhaustion or something, no worries." And you grab the paper with a goodbye and a wave, only waiting to be out of sight to slump your body against the next wall.

Your skin itches and hurts, as if something is crawling over it, and every touch only worsens these symptoms, bruises spreading like weed. Nausea violates you and had you eaten something earlier you would have gotten rod of your insides. You're silently thanking your foresight, as it's enough to rip your lungs out of their place with each breath you take.

All you want to do is go home, lay down and stare at the ceiling, maybe drown in some painkillers, like plants in fertilizer. But it seems like fate doesn't like you in particular, as you happen to stumble over the usual bickering duo of your group, plastic bags slung around their wrists. They seem like they have been grocery shopping, at the worst timing. You hurry to pull the hood of your hoodie over your head in a way that puts a shadow over your features. Even if the way you're leaning against the wall is already suspicious enough.

You hear them getting closer and you glance their way, only to see Obito pouting at something Kakashi seems to have said in retort, and he doesn’t know how to respond to it. Your eyes wander over his puckered lips to his eyes still full with joy, crinkling at the corners. And a thought comes to your mind: if he already looks so happy to see and talk with Kakashi, with whom he has an eternal feud, how is his face when enjoying some time with Rin, his beloved? You wish you could see it, but the only thing happening in your mind are flashes of the night. His accusations chanting through your head.

The multiple facets of Obito mix and mingle, and despite the pain, despite the horrors of your mind, you still love him, your heart only beating for him, confessing your feelings with each beat. Each beat choking you more and more. And at this point it doesn't matter to you anymore, you cough into the crook of your arm, avoiding looking at the pair as they walk past you.

Once you're sure they're far enough, you try your best to straighten up, spitting some leaves and stems into the ground. You continue on your way home only to stop when someone tugs at your clothes. You turn around to come face to face with Naruto. The little kid looks like he has been playing around with his friends when he noticed you, a bright grin adorning his chubby face.

"What's up! You wanna play with us?" he asks, pointing a thumb towards a group of other children.

You chuckle, the sound grating harshly, before patting his head. "What's up little guy? Hm, I don't feel well, le–"

"Is it because of the flowers? The one you're like vomiting and stuff? Did you eat them?" he interrupts you and you have to pull yourself together to not flinch at his astute observation.

"Uhm, yeah, I ate some bad stuff while on a mission, now I'm all sick! Horrible stuff! Now, that's why you gotta tell the truth, yknow? Don't hide stuff, because it can hurt you, or anyone else. So, I told you the truth, and now you gotta go back to your friends, imma play a game with you another time, deal?" You hold a hand for him to shake before once again joining his group in laughter.

You doubt there is going to be another time, but you don’t really have a choice in that matter. At least you hope you could give Naruto some tips for the future, even if you're not really worried about him in that aspect.

This meeting managed to distract you long enough for the pain to ebb away, leaving nothing but a dull ache, the veins waiting for the sun, your sun, to appear again, whether in your thoughts or elsewhere is irrelevant. Luckily, the distraction lasted until you collapse onto your bed, barely enough time to wrap yourself in a blanket before another coughing fit escapes your lungs, unprompted. They have been getting worse as of late, everything triggering their chokehold on you, pain flaring with every inhale, with every creak of your joints. You don’t even have to actively think or see him for such an intense reaction.

Those reactions, almost like an allergy, occured when in his company, or when your brain was admiring him in silence, in the peace of your room. That's why you have been avoiding him as of late, as you could no longer hide the way your body reacts so viscerally to his proximity alone.

That's why you have begun to avoid him altogether, him and everything reminding you of him, which proved to be more difficult than you thought, as he is so deeply ingrained in your life, every step and every stroke of paint on your wall carries a certain memory with him. So you got worse, you isolated yourself and still didn't get better. And the gap between you and your friends made your heart ache, the pressure inside of the valves intensifying.

But you'd rather wither away in your room than allowing your friends to see you in this state in the first place. How could you dare to even allow them to feel guilt in the first place? Every single seed of your misery you had sown yourself.

A pained sigh escapes you once the coughing fit is over, color splattered all over your blanket. This drained you of all your leftover energy, but you still have some stuff to finish, which you gladly took to your bed rather than move to the table.

You get rid of the colorful blanket, making place to strew papers all around you. And then you began to work, hands trembling, vision fading, but you manage to finish up and to neatly pack everything together and to place it on the commode next to you.

With that put out of the way you lean back into your cushions, the soft material warming your skin and you push yourself closer, eyes directed towards the window. Trees and plants are all this little hole can offer you, so you close your eyes, imagining the blue salty sea. And you wish you had visited it once before, leaving the woods for more than work. But this daydream has to be enough, the water laping against your ankles, welcoming and yet deceiving. The water nourishes your soul and you step closer, still aware of this fantasy, as there is no danger in that. So you allow yourself to be embraced by the sea, taking a deep, free breath, no constraints, no pain, and no lost friendships. Only fading laughter.

[lovova]

I see artists doing little showcasings of what they've accomplished creatively in the last year, decided that looks fun, and decided I'd do for myself an little inventory of what I've written in the last year as well, based on archive posts and what I can recall (I specify 'what I can recall', because I was not keeping track of when I did or did not update my main fanfic "Video Game Cruelty Potential" so...guestimates for that fic! I have 36 chapters, I can probably guess it was updated at least every other month) ~ So! For 2023: January: Did a fan-fanfic for my friend Lex called "The Other Rooms" where I explored off-scene implications of his cool-ass fic Room No.5 February: Created an alternate version of VGCP called "VGCP: Characters at their best" where I tried to explore some of the chars in the same setting being more well adjusted. I haven't gotten very far in it, but I am determined to get back to it this year! Also probably updated VGCP March: Did two short Kaito stories, an Oumota called "Playing with Phobias" where Kokichi messes with Kaito and a Saimota called "Luminary Hero of the Track Field" where Shuichi worries over Kaito's enthusiasm to sports while sick. April: Started what was MEANT to be a multi-chaptered Homestuck!V3 Kaito fic called "The Devotion of the Luminary of Skaia", but I haven't gone back yet to figure out what happens next yet. Thinking about it now, I think I was to make it a three chapter fic, but I just need to save some space to go back and outline it someday. VGCP? Maybe? May: A short Oumota piece called "Carnation: Please Handle Gently" that I got some awesome art commissioned for by the incredibly talented Ere. This short story inspired me so much that I'm actually basing a new original novel on the same concept~

June: I (believe) this was the month I finished Kaiden! An omegaverse original story I was writing and posting to Kindlevella. I am super proud of finishing that piece, and while I want to go back and create a more refined second draft before selling it as an Amazon book, I still LOVE this version as well. Very proud~ And VGCP!

July: Two Oumota short stories, "Touring Mortality" and "Execution Failed". Touring Mortality was especially fun to write, though I was amazed at the positive feedback Execution Failed got. It was very uplifting XD This was also the month I (re)started my original story "Pearls and Shackles". Also probably VGCP August: More Pearls and Shackles, more VGCP. September: Pearls and Shackles! Probably more VGCP! Can't remember! October: Can you guess? PEARLS AND SHACKLES! VIDEO GAME CRUELTY POTENTIAL!! November: This was a purely Pearls and Shackles month, and that was because I dedicated NANO (National Novel Writing Month) to finishing it. AND I DID! It super needs a second draft, its not ready to show off, but it EXISTS! So hell yeah!

December: A funny short V3 story called "Soulmate Goose of Enforcement!" I had a lot of fun collaborating with this one with Lex, and am hoping to do a chapter 2 with another great writer added to the mix too, Andromebaa. I also started the first two chapters of a new novel manuscript, a Hanahaki story about a pair of lesbians struggling with love in their own ways, but both trying their best! And, also, I updated "Video Game Cruelty Potential"

Did I overestimate how often I updated VGCP this year? Underestimate? I have no idea, that fic is almost 300,000 words long by this point, let's call an update every other month a generous average of how often I add to it. Other then VGCP, I did 8 Short Fanfics, finished a book, started and finished another book, and started a third book. And I'm not counting stories I had to write for my school year. Just ones I did out of the passion in my damn heart.

So, yeah! I'm pretty proud of this year, it was a good one. I hope anyone reading this had just as good a year! Writers, steal this idea, go looking back the year and brag about what you accomplished! You deserve it!

Have a good 2024 everyone!

[jellyfishloveletterghosts]

Carnations Say It Better Part 2 (Harringrove)

Part 1 (Hellcheer) separate stories just happening on the same day in the same universe.

Carnations Say It Better

Billy does not think about it for long before he is marching over to the pep squads booth at the end of lunch. He spent most of lunch watching Steve Harrington sulk while pushing food around his tray sitting across from his ex and her boyfriend because for some reason they are friendly. When people start filtering out he makes his move. This morning they were set up out front of the building. Now they are in the cafeteria with even more construction paper hearts decorating the walls behind them.

There is only one cheerleader left dark hair pulled back in a high poney as the others all haul their deliveries to their destinations. She eyes him, chin resting on her balled up fist popping bubble gum.

"What can I do for you handsome"? She asks, tone bored and eyes lingering on going ons behind him. Billy glances behind him and all he sees is Carol throwing something at Tommy. Those two are broken up and still weirdly friendly while also constantly snipping at one another. Billy does not get it.

He doesn not answer with words, just opens his wallet and pulls all of the bills under twenty out. He slaps them on the table and slides them across drawing her attention back to him. She raises a bored eyebrow and pops her gum again before picking the money up and counting it out.

"You want thirteen dollars worth of carnations?" She eyes him with a little more interest as she gives a whistle. It feels more mocking than genuine, makes Billy clench his jaw. "Who's the lucky girl big spender?" Billy does not answer, just waits her out eyes glancing at the clock hanging overhead. He has about seven minutes before he misses his window.

She gives a heavy sigh tucking the money into a little lock box before reaching into one of the boxes full of carnations. She pulls out two fists full up and ties them together with red and white twisted string. It is when she pulls the form in front of her one hand holding the flowers, the other tapping a pen on the table that she speaks up again. "Fraid your going to have to spill, we can't deliver them if you don't tell me who they're for."

Billy scrunches his nose up, he is absolutely not about to tell her who they are for. "Just give them to me. I'll deliver them personally." He glances at the clock again impatiens growing in him.

She purses her lips giving him a flat look. "That's not really how this-" Billy does not have time for this, he only has a few minutes left to get to the locker rooms. He snatches the flowers from her hand and runs. "HEY!" She shouts after him but does not bother with anything else, she is getting real tired of dealing with people today.

-

Billy makes it to the locker rooms just in time to see Steve at the door to the gym. He is always the last one out, always taking the longest both before and after class. Always takes the time to primp even though the sweat of a game is going to have his hair matted down in his face by the end of class.

Billy does not think. He just needs the flowers to get to Steve and his arm is moving before he fully comprehends throwing one of the bouquets at the back of his head. Steve's hand falls from the door as the flowers hit him and he flinches forward. His hands come up scrubbing over his head like he expects to feel what hit him even as the bouquet hits the ground with a soft noise.

"What the fuck man?" Steve hisses as he turns around taking a step forward. His shoe starts crushing the flowers underneath his sole before Steve’s eyes land on it and he slowly lifts it up. "What's this?" Steve kneels, gently picking the flowers up, fingers brushing over damaged petals.

"They're for you.” Billy says it angry like a threat, hand clenching around the second little bouquet he is still holding.

"You got me flowers?" Steve asks, head cocking, eyebrow raised and his mouth is hanging in a little open o.

Billy finds the look all too appealing and instead of being charming like he intended to be. That whole route is already at a loss after smacking Steve in the back of the head. He still manages to make it worse. "You seemed sad as hell at lunch, it was pathetic."

Steve's face goes from curious and maybe flattered to offended in five seconds flat. Fingers curling tightly around the stems of the little bouquet, as he drops his hands to his side, barely resisting placing them on his hips. "Gee what a sweetheart you are." He spits out the tone scathing but the endearment has Billy going red in the face as his gut flutters despite the intent. Not that it matters, this whole stupid thing is going down the drain fast.

Steve is still here though, still watching him, features shifting again as he looks back at the flowers. "Wait, is this supposed to be some sort of apology again? Like the weed and ibuprofen you left in my locker last year?"

"No. That wasn't me." Billy lies, it was him, leaving weed and pills in Steve’s locker after beating him up, once a week like clockwork until Christmas break. His way of apologizing, actions always having more weight in his book than useless words.

"Oh right of course not.” Steve has the audacity to roll his eyes making Billy huff and puff as he takes a few menacing steps closer annoyed as his gut continues to flip. This is not going so bad after all. “It must have been Tommy, maybe I should go see if he wants to-" Billy closes the distance.

"Don't." Billy curls a hand in Steve's shirt."Don't bother with him." Tone pissy and hand shaking a little, worriedly looking at Steve through his lashes, waiting for him to flinch or yell for help. Show he’s afraid.

Steve does none of that, snorts a laugh and smiles at him making the fluttering in Billy’s stomach worse, like a swarm of butterflies are all tickling his insides. "Alright, alright no Tommy.” Steve brings a hand up, the flower petals brushing Billy’s wrist before he drops them back down at his side, chewing his lip for a long moment. “Do you want to hang out later? Say seven my place? I can order pizza."

Billy nods, slipping one carnation free from the second bouquet before slapping it against Steve’s chest. "It's a date." Billy turns, slipping the single carnation into his lapel as he heads for the door.

"A date? Like a real date? Wait where are you going?" Steve shouts after him, technically they have gym but there is no way Billy is going to survive grinding up on Steve when they have a date later.

Part 3 (Carobin)

[cherry-bomb-ships]

A Happy Ending

Word Count: 2,266

Content Warnings: None

Summary: Ruby tells her daughter, Olivia, a bedtime story that's not entirely a fairy tale.

Author's Note: I just wanted to write something quick and fluffy for the anniversary, so I threw this together in the span of like 5 hours. Also, this is the first time my fankid with Junkrat has been in a fic! Please enjoy! :3

Tag list below the cut. Click here or DM me to be added or removed. Reblogs are all seen and appreciated!

@ava-ships @bee-ships @beetleboyfriend @bonbonships @canongf @cloudyvoid @canonjunto @discountwife @dissonantyote @edencantstopfallininlove @final-catboy @gible-love-nibles @gothamcore @halsdaisy @hoppinkiss @hop-n-bedes-malewife @hyperionshipping @iyamifucker @lex-n-weegie @little-miss-selfships @little-shiny-sharpies @loogi-selfships @lovebugexe @mikaelrealman @mintpecks @mrs-kelly @nameless-self-inserts @nerdstreak @paper-carnation @patches-and-her-selfships @poghorn @radioromantic @red-velvet-ships @rexscanonwife @ship-trek @squips-ship @sunnysideships @toogayforthistoday @void-kissed @winterworlds

There was a full moon that night. It shone brightly over the countryside, piercing the mist among the stems of tall grass and the petals of wildflowers that blanketed the rolling hills, transforming the expanse of nature into a glittering oasis. Nestled deep within the prairie was a humble home, built from the ground up to have and hold an unorthodox but deeply-bonded family of four.

And it was within this sleepy home, hidden away from the world, where young Olivia Fawkes-Ramirez was being tucked into bed for the night.

"There we go," her parent Ruby cooed gently as she tucked the pastel yellow blanket under the mattress, knowing that her daughter slept best feeling a bit compressed under her covers. "You ready for lights out, jellybean?"

Olivia paused for a moment and looked up at Ruby with her wide hazel eyes; Ruby could already tell that that meant no, but she also knew that Olivia had a tendency to be too shy to ask directly for what she wanted.

"You know you have to give me the okay, Livvie," Ruby said. "If you don't say anything, then I can't go, and I'll just be here staring at you all night."

Olivia let out a weak giggle, but still didn't speak up.

Ruby continued, "That's gonna be very awkward for both of us, babygirl. And I don't think you're gonna get a lot of sleep like that."

Clutching her favorite stuffed animal- a piglet covered in polka dots- in her arms, Olivia looked to the side as she mumbled, "I miss Daddy and Uncle Mako."

Ruby's heart nearly cracked in two when she heard those quiet words, but she kept a brave face as she reached out to stroke her soft blonde hair. "Oh, I know, chickadee. I miss them too. But hey," she gently placed a finger under her chin to angle her daughter's face towards her, "when you wake up tomorrow, both Daddy and Uncle Mako will be back home, and I'm sure they'll have a present for you like they always do. So if you fall asleep quick, they’ll be here before you know it."

Olivia smiled a bit, but it was clear to see on her face that she was still a bit upset. Ruby thought for a second, brainstorming how to send her child off to sleep with happier thoughts in her young mind.

“How about this, Livvie,” Ruby proposed. “I can read you another story, but then you have to go right to bed. Does that sound like a deal?”

Olivia looked to the side again, pondering the proposal carefully, before looking back to her parent and nodding her head. At that approving nod, Ruby moved toward the bookshelf, when she heard another small noise of protest and looked back to Olivia.

“Umm, mumma… do you think you could tell me a brand new story? I heard all of those ones on my shelf before,” Olivia asked.

A soft smile spread across Ruby’s lips as she immediately took the request in stride. “A brand new story, huh?” she said as she sat back down on the edge of the bed, already thinking of a concept.

Olivia nodded happily, a smile finally returning to her face. “Yeah, and then I’ll go right to bed, I promise!”

Ruby smiled back endearingly. “Now that sounds like a good deal,” she joked, before looking down thoughtfully. “Okay, a new story… Alright, I think I’ve got something. You ready, jellybean?”

Once more, Olivia shook her head in approval and let out a soft “yep” as she sat up, eagerly awaiting her story.

“Alright, here goes,” Ruby began. “Once upon a time… there was a knight. This knight was sent far away from the kingdom that they called home, to protect a small island out in the middle of the ocean. Now, this island didn’t have any treasure or anything on it that made it special. It was just a simple little island, with palm trees and white sandy beaches. There were times when the knight even questioned why they needed to protect it in the first place. But they were a good knight, who wanted to make their king happy, so they devoted themself to protecting the island with their life.

“Many days and nights passed by, and no one, good or bad, came to the tiny island. The knight was starting to get bored, wondering why they were sent there when it seemed like no one would ever show up. But then, one day, someone finally came to the island.”

Olivia was listening to the story unfold with wide eyes, already captivated. “Who was it, mumma?”

Ruby’s smile grew wider, relieved that her improvised story wasn’t a bore. “It was… a pirate! And this pirate was known around the world for being ruthless, dangerous, and altogether just plain mean. When the knight saw the pirate, they got very excited, because they thought that they could bring the pirate back to their king and be called a hero! So, right as the pirate was getting off their little boat they brought to the island, the knight stepped forward.

Ruby put on a theatrical voice, imitating an old-timey English accent. “‘Stop right there!’ the knight said. ‘You’re under arrest, pirate, for stealing treasure from across the seven seas!’

“The pirate was caught off guard. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be on that tiny island. But even more than that, he thought that the knight in front of him was more beautiful than any of the glittering gems he’d ever stolen. ‘Pardon me, good knight,’ the pirate said back politely. ‘I’m just tired from traveling, and would like to rest here on your island. In the morning, I’ll be gone again.’

“Now the knight was shocked too. After all of the stories they had heard about this pirate being so awful, they couldn’t believe how friendly he was acting to them. Still, they didn’t let that distract them. The knight told the pirate, ‘you may rest here for the night. But in the morning, you must come with me back to my kingdom.’ And to the knight’s surprise, the pirate agreed. The two of them would set off across the ocean when the sun rose over the horizon.

“That night, the knight and the pirate laid on the beach together. The knight didn’t want the pirate to leave their sight, just in case he tried to escape. But for the entire night, the two of them just talked. The knight got to hear about all of the pirate’s exciting adventures all around the world, and the pirate heard about the knight’s life alone on the island, and for the first time in a long time, the knight was talking, and laughing, and smiling. They felt like they finally had a friend. But that was silly, because pirates are bad guys. And knights are good guys. They couldn’t be friends… could they?”

Ruby paused for a moment, seeing if Olivia would answer. To her delight, the young girl did speak up. “I think that, they should still be friends if they want to. Because the knight’s happy now.”

“Well, you’ll have to wait to hear how it ends,” Ruby chuckled, glad that Olivia was still on board with the story. “Now where was I… Oh, yes. So, the next morning, the two left the tiny island and sailed off for the kingdom far away. It was a long journey, and there were times when the seas would get rough. But no matter what happened, the two would look out for each other. During the mornings, the pirate would teach the knight about sailing his ship, and during the evenings, the knight would make the pirate a delicious meal. And every night, the two would sit under the stars and talk for hours. They would talk and talk and talk, and some nights they talked for so long that they would be too tired to go to their beds! So they would just fall asleep right there on the deck of the ship, lying next to each other.

“The two got to know each other very well during their long voyage, and once again the knight began to wonder why they had heard that the pirate was so mean and vicious. Sure, the pirate didn’t have the best manners, and he refused to bathe unless the knight begged him to, but he was always so kind and so cheerful, that he made the knight very happy when they were together. The knight wondered if anyone else had ever actually stopped to talk to the pirate, to hear his stories of adventure, to get to know him as a person like they had come to know him.

“But at last, after many days and nights of their long, long voyage together had passed, the two had reached the knight’s kingdom. But now, there was a problem. The knight knew that if they arrested the pirate and brought him to the king, they would never see the pirate again. This pirate, who was now their closest friend, would be lost to them forever. As the two pulled the ship into the dock on the shores of the kingdom, the knight came to the pirate, and they asked him a question.

“They said, ‘Pirate. We have been journeying for a long time now. We have braved the seas together during the days, and talked for long hours during the nights. Over this time, I have come to know you as a friend, a friend that I would be very sad to lose. I need to know, pirate. Do you feel the same way?’”

There was a brief moment of silence, leaving young Olivia in suspense. “What did the pirate say, mumma?”

Ruby smiled, “The pirate said, ‘Yes. I felt the same about you since the moment I saw you, dear knight. I sailed across the ocean to this kingdom with you, knowing what would happen when we made it here, because all of those days and nights spent together were all worth giving up my life of stealing. I want to stay with you no matter what, because I love you.’

“The knight was stunned. They had never heard anyone say that they loved them before, but here was this pirate, confessing his love for them just as they were about to hand him over to the king! The knight was nearly moved to tears as they replied, ‘Pirate, I want you to know that it means everything to me to hear you say those words. And over the days we’ve spent together, I have come to realize something of my own. I love you, too. And I don’t want this to be goodbye, but I don’t know what other choice I have.’

“There was a moment of silence between the two, before the pirate came up with an idea. He said to the knight, ‘Come with me, knight. Leave your kingdom behind, leave the island you were trapped on behind. Stay with me, on my ship, and we will sail the world together. Every day will be a new adventure, and every night, we can lie together under the stars. We can stay together, and most of all, you’ll be free.’ The pirate grabbed the knight’s hand tightly as he finished his proposal. ‘Please, dearest knight. Stay with me.’

“Well, the pirate didn’t need to wait long for an answer. The knight wrapped his arms around the pirate, and they said, ‘yes. Yes, of course I’ll stay with you! I’ll sail away with you no matter where you go. I’ll stay by your side, pirate.’ So, the two of them pushed the boat out from the dock, before anyone else knew who they were or why they were there.

“The knight knew that staying with the pirate would make them an outlaw too. It meant that they probably wouldn’t see anyone from their old kingdom ever again. But they didn’t care. It was worth giving up everything they had known to stay with the man they loved. So, the knight and the pirate sailed away, far away from the kingdom, far away from the island, to have countless adventures, and spend every night under the stars, together.”

Olivia rubbed her eyes, hardly able to keep them open, as she sleepily asked, “And did they live happily ever after?”

As Ruby reached forward to pull the covers back over Olivia, she caught sight of the golden band wrapped around her left hand’s ring finger, and for a moment she fought back the water welling in her eyes as she smiled and answered, “You know what, Livvie? I think that they did.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead gently. “I love you, chickadee. Sweet dreams.”

The young girl’s eyes were already closed, all of her worries now long forgotten as she contently mumbled, “I love you too, mumma.”

Ruby stepped away from the bed on her tiptoes, dimming the lights in the room before pulling the door shut, leaving it cracked just enough for a sliver of light to trickle in. She turned from the door and walked quietly into the living room, picking up a book from the coffee table before resting on the couch. She gave a glance to the clock; it was still early in the evening, and she had a long night ahead of her. After all, her pirate was sailing home to her that night. She wanted to be awake to welcome him back into her arms when he finally arrived.

[arealcrow]

Cathedral time, tell me of Leslie 👁️💢🎂🍧💐🌋🌱✏️💧❤️

dusts him off and sets him down in front of you

👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical…)?

he's got green eyes! dark and deep and full of history

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

he pays someone to help him keep his life together, so i feel like he's got a lot of habits that get... handled around him, so to speak. he's not great about keeping on time for things or keeping organized in general, he's terrible about keeping in contact regularly, sometimes he forgets that rules apply to him... stuff like that lol

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

it's in late october, right as it starts to get Really cold, and he definitely enjoys celebrating :3 usually something small but special (expensive) with just close friends, or just with family when he was a kid

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

his mother is an Extremely sentimental person so im sure he's got a trunk full of mementos from when he was a kid somewhere in storage, but as for ones he'd still have With him on the regular.. his stuffed rabbit from when he was a kid, named mr. wilton, has undergone many repairs over the years to survive into his old age, and leslie would be distraught if anything happened to him.

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

ended up going with a purple/green/blue vibe :3 lavender (has a streak of lavender in him, if you catch my drift), crocus (romantic devotion), violets (loyalty, dependability), green carnations (see: oscar wilde), periwinkle (faith, trust), purple pansies (he's just a little guy), white lilies (innocence)

🌋 VOLCANO - how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion?

instant! if he feels it, its happening! which is pretty rare, he's not an especially angry person, and it dissipates pretty quickly when he does actually reach that point

🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

his older brother trying to drown him "as a joke" during a summer trip out at the hamptons. it took him a few years to get into the water with his brother again after that, but they were back to splash fighting by the time leslie was a teenager.

✏️ PENCIL - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?

"The haunting is architectural. It is not about you. It is about where you are." from Why Are You Haunted? A survey (this poem is doing WORK for this campaign lol i love it) and "I can't tell one from another/did I find you, or you find me?" from This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

his childhood home always felt like a foreign and frightening place, too large and rigid, until parish came into it. he used to have nightmares about the hallways swallowing him.

❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

he's big on using his words, of course. very appreciative, loves using pet names and affectionate nicknames when he can get away with it. quality time and physical affection are big ones too, he's a library cat at heart.

[artinandwritin]

A little writing practise I did yesterday at 11 pm. I wasn't really sure how to put the idea of texting each other down in a way it still feels natural, but doesn't slow down the plot. I kinda think I did a good job for once :)

This is for GusSiri's modern au during the time period where Siri is about a month away from finishing high school and Gustav is just,,, fucking around in college doing who knows what haha. Have fun!

Unread-Read;

S: I got full marks on my biology test. Mrs. Haddock gave me a sticker because she thinks I worked so hard.

Unread.

S: Did you know red carnations symbolize affection?

Unread.

S: I found it online.

Unread.

S: I thought you would like it, you told me once you like carnations.

Unread.

S: Can I send you some? I don't know if they'll come through okay with the post, but I'm willing to try!

Unread.

Siri took a deep breath and put her phone away - this was no use. She had scrolled through her past messages with Gustav Larson for what seemed like hours, and none of them had been answered.

Not a single one.

She didn't know what had happened between the two of them. One moment, he was texting her what felt like every other minute, sending her pictures of his homework, his dog Fanghook, or things in stores he wished he could buy but didn't have the money for - the next moment, nothing. Only unread messages.

Of course, he must be busy, Siri knew he probably was. He was in college, following classes to get a degree in teaching. He was probably making new friends, going out with them, getting drinks and probably not needing her anymore.

After all, she was still in high school, all alone. She had her friend Adelaide Jorgenson, sure, but all her other friends had already left to pursue a carreer. And now, even Gustav had forgotten about her.

She grabbed her phone again, her fingers trembling as she tried again.

S: How's Fanghook? He must be so lonely, now that you're studying so much.

Unread.

S: To be honest… I feel lonely too.

Unread.

S: I miss you.

Unread.

S: Gustav, I miss you. Can you please text me back?

Unread.

S: It's okay if you can't.

Unread.

S: I'm sorry if I've done something wrong.

Unread.

S: Or said.

Unread.

S: Just please text me back.

Read.

Siri's eyes widened as the two marks in the corner of her message turned blue; she leaned back against her pillows as Gustav started typing.

G: Im so sorry! Roommate hid my phone for a joke, couldn't find it for days.

Her heart jumped.

S: It's okay, I was just worried.

G: Can I make it up to you?

S: No, you don't have to, it wasn't your fault.

G: Yeah no, if you miss me I definitely gotta make it up to you. Of course, everyone must miss me so much, I was so legendary in high school.

Siri chuckled, slowly calming down as she typed a response. Oh, how she had missed his little remarks.

S: They don't talk about you anymore :'). But… I do miss you. Quite a lot.

G: Wanna go get ice cream or something when you get outta class tomorrow? I've borrowed this sick scooter from a friend, I'll come pick you up.

Oh. A strange whirl went through Siri's stomach; her heart felt really light.

S: That sounds a bit like a date, Gustav. Isn't that girl you had eyes for gonna be jealous?

G: Nope, turns out she already had a boyfriend. So there is no-one to worry about.

Relieve washed over her; her shoulders relaxed at his message. However, her racing heart kept beating, and her hands suddenly typed on their own.

S: Do you want this to be a date?

G: Um.

G: Maybe a little. Not gonna lie, you're cute. And you've always been nice to me even tho I'm sometimes kinda an idiot ;).

Butterflies, that's what they were. They were twirling in Siri's belly as her gaze was glued to her phone screen. Her hands trembled at every word they texted to each other.

S: I kinda want this to be a date too.

G: You do?

S: Yeah. I think so.

G: So I guess we've got a date ;))). Anywhere you wanna go?

S: The movies? They're showing Titanic again.

G: Sounds good to me. I'm gonna hog the popcorn, be prepared >:). And!! Pleasepleaseplease put on a thin dress or something. I wanna offer you my sweater.

Siri couldn't help but laugh softly, casting a quick glance to her wardrobe. A sundress may be best suited for his little request and oh, how she adored the detail.

S: I will! Can we make dinner at your dorm after the movie?

G: Yep, I'll just bully my roommate out. And afterwards I'll take you home nice and save.

S: I'll see you tomorrow, can't wait :).

G: See ya, can't wait either.

G: And Seer.

G: I miss you too <3.

A smile overtook Siri; there was nothing that could describe that special feeling she felt when he said that.

S: <3.

She closed her phone, putting it down beside her. Her heart racing, she slid further down onto her bed as she started up at the ceiling. Oh, this would be perfect.

This would be absolutely perfect.

@rosiethedragongeek for the tags!! Just a lil smt for funsies <3

[dalmascan-requiem]

Dalmascan Requiem Moments: Carnations

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Sometimes, the best memories consist of the little things. And also swindling a merchant.

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Read on AO3 or keep reading after the jump

content warnings: none

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It's not the most obvious thing, but both of the boys wear a carnation earring, and it's something they both treasure very deeply. I had to sit down and just write how they got them really quick :)

Also, it makes for a nice story for Valentine's Day! Not that it happened during the FFXIV equivalent, but it's a sweet, romantic fic.

(I have a fic for Valentione's from last year!)

"You! Ma'am, yes, you! Over here!"

Gale chuckles inwardly as he turns towards the merchant. While Viera weren't the most uncommon sight in Dalmasca, many had trouble telling male from female--a fact he's used many times to his advantage--though he hadn't planned on doing so today. I wasn't going to buy anything… but maybe I can weasel a deal out of this man. He seems less than observant.

The merchant's eyes light up when Gale gives him an amused, inquisitive glance. "Ah yes! Come over, please!" The Hyur waves him over, and practically tugs Gale into the stall when he gets within arms' reach. "You, young miss, seem the type that would appreciate some lovely flowers."

"You've guessed correctly, sir." Gale quickly scans over the man's flowers. Quite a selection, I suppose. "But we are in the middle of a desert. How did you stop them from withering?"

"A very good question, miss." The merchant's smile falters slightly. Does no one ever ask him that? It would seem an obvious question to me. Or is he that poor a liar? "These blooms have traveled with me all across the Far East, and never once did a single petal shrivel up! With proper care, you can even grow them in the desert. I'm sure of it."

Gale looks over the flowers once again, before clicking his tongue. "No, I don't think I believe you, sir." Before the merchant objects, he picks up a bright bloom and lightly touches its leaves. "These flowers are already becoming sunburnt, it shows on the leaves. They're by no means a flower you can grow under the intense desert sun."

He then picks up a rose. "You can't fool anyone that these roses are different because they're from the Far East, if even that is true. They're cold--too cold, clearly preserved with a bit of ice magic. But when thawed, the blooms will quickly die, even faster than it would had you never done so in the first place."

"And these," Gale gestures at a large swath of flowers. "These… well, they're carnations."

Carnations, hm? Gale taps his chin in thought while the merchant tries to string together a rebuttal. It's been ages since I've last seen these. Reyna would love them…

The merchant finally finds his voice, though he still stumbles over his words. "N…Now see here, young miss--"

Gale raises his hand to cut him off. "It's sir, sir, nor am I young." He turns towards the merchant, a mischievous smirk on his face. "You'll need to be a better liar if you ever want to be a successful merchant." The Viera shakes his head as the other's face turns red. "But you have something I want. So let's make a deal, shall we?"

~

Laurent rubs his neck as he gets ready to enter the apartment. Did Gemna really need to reorganize everything today? I'm so sore…

The Viera quietly opens the door--you could never know who may be on the other side--and relaxes when nothing seemed out of the ordinary. "I'm home."

"Reyna!" He hears Gale's voice from another room, and the light-haired Viera quickly comes out to greet him with a wide smile on his face. "You're here! Come along, I have something to show you."

Before Laurent could say anything, Gale grabs his hand and gently pulls him toward the bedroom. What has him so excited? Eir's so cute when he gets like this…

Laurent lets out an amused chuckle and lets the other Viera lead him to the bedroom. "What's this about, Eir? It was a long day at the bar, I'm pretty tired--"

"Shush, just come here." Gale gives Laurent's hand another light tug as they get to the bedroom door.

"Oh, Eir, this is…"

The moment he steps into the bedroom, Laurent notices the flowers decorating every corner of the room. It was a veritable rainbow of carnations, carefully placed as to fill the room with color, but not overwhelm.

"All of these carnations! And in so many colors, too…" Laurent reaches out to gently touch one of the flower's petals, and he can't help but to smile. "They're real! We live in the middle of a desert, how did you even manage this?"

Gale chuckles and squeezes the other Viera's hand slightly. "I happened upon a mechant selling flowers, and by some stroke of luck they weren't damaged or sickly. So, I made a deal with him."

That sounds ominous. "…What sort of deal, Eir?"

"Nothing special. Just taught him how to ply his wares better." Gale steps in front of Laurent, and wraps his arms around his waist. "But that doesn't matter. I'd do anything just to see your smile."

Laurent feels his ears heat up and glances away from Gale, and the light-haired Viera chuckles. "You're too adorable, Reyna. I take it you like them?"

"I do, Eir… thank you. They're beautiful."

Gale offers a soft smile before leaning in for a kiss. "I'm glad… Oh! I almost forgot." The viera suddenly takes a step back and grabs a small box from the nightstand.

"The carnations won't last forever, but I do have something that will." He opens the box to show Laurent two small carnation earrings. "One for you and one for me." Gale lifts the white earring out of the box and holds it up to Laurent's ear. "I think the white one would look best on you."

Laurent nods and takes the earring, carefully putting it in. "I think I agree."

Gale looks back at him while putting the black carnation in his ear. "You haven't even looked at it in a mirror yet, my love…"

"I trust your judgement." Laurent pulls Gale into a hug. "Thank you, Eir."

"Oh, I-I…" Gale stumbles over his words for a moment while in the embrace, but after a moment wraps his arms around Laurent. "Of course, my love."

The two lean in for long, tender kiss, and when Laurent pulls back, there is the smallest hint of a smirk on his face. "Now Eir, what did you really pay for all this?"

"Oh please, my love. The merchant was gullible and a terrible liar--all I had to do was hint at knowing people that wouldn't take kindly to such tricks."

"Eir… you don't know anyone like that."

"He didn't need to know that. Now let's enjoy his goodwill some more, shall we? I can't believe he had blue blooms…"