#IF YOU DON'T WRITE ALL FIVE IT'S OKAY maybe lets mentally adjust for 3 ... now ... ok ... ?

[hideyseek]

IM WRITING (<- willing it into existence by once more playing Public Accountability With Friends)

[oikawa-tuwu]

Linen Closet (gn!Reader x Kiyoko)

Rated G, 1.3k words

Not Home for the Holidays Masterlist

“Are you... crying in a linen closet?”

When you’re a child, crying is a catharsis. Stub your toe, cry a little, get up and keep playing. Pain, physical or emotional, was temporary, and tears were as good of a placebo painkiller as it got. It used to feel so good to cry. Children aren't exactly eloquent creatures when it comes to emotions or injuries, so when worst comes to worst… cry about it and keep going.

Eventually, crying becomes less of a catharsis and more of a guilty pleasure, except with less of the pleasure and more of the guilt. It might feel good in the moment, but, god forbid, you accidentally burden anyone else with your troubles, because, frankly, that would just be embarrassing for both parties, so crying is left for quiet nights in your cold bed or sniffles held back by a thread on your way home or, in this case, frustrated explosions of emotion in the linen closet of your bed and breakfast.

But we all grow up eventually.

Another shudder wracks your chest, a sob letting loose before you can clamp your mouth shut. You know, from unfortunate experience, just how thin the walls of this old house really are, and the last thing you want is for Maria, your employee, changing sheets next door, to decide to investigate those weird noises.

You try to take a calming breath. In. Out. In. Out. 

It's not so much breathing as it is wheezing, but it's getting oxygen in your lungs, so who are you to complain?

And then you think about it again.

It. Whatever the hell it is.  Money problems, relationship problems, mental health problems, all of the above problems piling on top of each other like a snowstorm until the front door won’t open-

Another whimper, about ten decibels louder than ideal, and you hold your breath and you hear footsteps. Pass, please. Pass this door and move on. Nothing interesting here.

The door opens.

For a second, all you see is a silhouette. About average height, skinny and lithe, like a runner, with dark hair. And then the light adjusts, and you see her face. She’s beautiful, no doubt about it, and with the halo your (slight) lightheadedness from the crying session, the scene is somewhat… holy… in nature.

But she’s frowning, and the worried expression is rather upsetting to see on such a beautiful face.

The woman asks, carefully, “Are you… crying in a linen closet?”

Your mouth, apparently working faster than your brain, asks, "Are you an angel?"

Silence. Well, mostly silence, because your brain is currently screaming.

"That was a weird thing to say. Sorry."

Thankfully, the woman laughs. She laughs, and you melt, firstly glad that she's laughing it off, but also because her laugh is melodic. "Trust me, that's not the first time I've heard that one. But... uh," she hesitates, looking you over, and you remember that five seconds you were bawling your eyes out. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you say, and brush away the last of your tears. Thankfully, seeing her was enough of a shock to stop them for now, but you have a feeling you haven't seen the last of them today. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. After all, I'm sure you didn't expect to spend your vacation dealing with an overly emotional host."

"You'd be surprised," the woman says, with a soft smile that speaks of a quiet inside joke, possibly, an inside joke for her alone. "Let's just say I've been in a somewhat similar situation before. My best friend used to have pretty bad anxiety. Actually, she's the one that checked us in yesterday, Yachi Hitoka?"

The name rings a bell. "Short, blonde, blushes a lot?"

"That's her."

Ah. You were wondering when you'd get to see the second of Yachi’s party, since she requested a room with two single beds. And here she was right in front of you. An angel on earth.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

An angel.

"No, thanks. It's sweet of you to offer, but..."

But you don't even know why you're crying.  It could be any number of things. Being (relatively) alone during the holidays, stress from your job, or just plain sadness and loneliness. Missing family, missing friends, wanting hot chocolate but knowing full well you ran out a week ago and haven't restocked yet. It could be any and all of those reasons and isolating a single culprit is nearly impossible.

“It’s just a lot,” you end up saying. “The holidays. Everyone likes to talk about the good parts, the food, the celebration, the presents… that you end up forgetting the bad parts too. Until they’re staring straight at you.”

No one likes to mention that your room feels colder in the winter without someone else there to warm it. No one likes to mention that your house feels emptier without the laughter and conversation of kin.  No one likes to mention the stress of throwing together a holiday dinner or coming up with the perfect gift idea or looking at your bank account and realizing you might need to rethink some things.

And there it comes again, that wave, and you blink, blink, blink, praying the tide will recede until the next time you get the chance to be alone. A cocktail of anxiety and guilt and salt slowly rising, rising, rising. This woman shouldn’t have to see you like this, you don’t even know each other, and honestly, it's a little unfair to burden one of your guests with your emotional problems and-

“You’re spiralling again, aren’t you?” The woman asks, in that soft voice of hers, and you wonder when you got so transparent that a literal stranger can tell when you’re close to breaking.

The dam cracks, and the tears start to fall again. “I’m sorry,” you manage to get out. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to deal with this-”

Instead of saying anything, agreeing or disagreeing, the woman drops to her knees, crouching down next to where you’re sitting on the bucket. She looks up at you, her hand holding yours, and says, very softly, “Stop apologizing.”

Amazingly, you do. You close your mouth and let the tears flow, with the woman still there, offering hand squeezes and quiet company through your mental breakdown.

It’s… nicer than you expect it to be, just having someone there. She doesn’t say anything else, but you know she’s there to talk it out if you really needed to. For now, she’s willing to sit there and listen to your woes and remind you that there’s someone out there that does care when you’re struggling.

So you cry. You cry and the guilt and frustration slowly lessens and all that’s left of the broken dam is an empty reservoir.

It's… cathartic.

With her sweater sleeve, the woman wipes your cheeks dry. “Better?”

“Better,” you agree, and your mouth forms the first syllable of I’m sorry, before the woman gives you a look. “Thank you. For being here with me. I do have to say though, I would have liked meeting under different circumstances. I don’t think I look incredibly attractive mid-breakdown.”

The woman shrugs, and you see a little faint dusting of blush on her cheeks as she stands, offering a hand to help you off the bucket. “I think you might be surprised.”

You smile. You take her hand, and let her haul you to your feet.

“The name’s Kiyoko, by the way.”

“Y/n.”

“Well, Y/n,” Kiyoko says, that flush still on the tips of her cheekbones as she averts her gaze, a little self-consciously. “How about the next time you need a break, you come knock on my room door and we can go out and do something to take your mind off it?”

“I’d like that.”

Ngl, I had trouble writing this one because I wasn't sure if it would be relatable enough? But I figured of all years to talk about the worst parts of the holiday season, it was this one because oh lord do the holidays remind us that covid-19 sucks butt. Anyways, this is your reminder that you're allowed to feel sad right now. You might be separated from your friends and family or maybe you had to be laid off and money is tight, or maybe you just miss the way things used to be where we could go out and do things. Maybe the holidays just aren't for you, and the negative emotions weigh out the positive ones every year. All those feelings are valid, and take this as a sign to reach out to someone if you need to. My dms are always open if you need someone to talk to <3

[feather-aesthetic]

3) “I’ll make you a deal, if you can hold still and quiet for five minutes I’ll give you whatever information. How about that with may and daisy or jemma and daisy? Platonic, of course. Is it OK to send more? I don't want to come as greedy.

Title: Deal

A/N: I always feel like my writing comes off so ooc :(  Something to work on in the future.

Rating: PG

Pairing: Platonic May/Daisy

Summary: May makes a deal with Daisy: If she wants to know about May and Coulson’s relationship, she has to keep quiet for 5 minutes.  It turns out to be much harder than Daisy anticipated.

Words: 1,364

Daisy furrowed her brow as she left the kitchen, mentally running through the list of places she had checked.  It had been over half an hour of searching, and Daisy really had other things that she needed to do.  All she’d wanted to do was ask May if morning training was on, but finding the woman was proving to be more trouble than it was worth.  

A bullet had grazed May’s leg on a mission a week ago, and despite May’s insistence, Daisy had refused to let her aggravate her injury further by sparring.  It should’ve healed by now, and Daisy missed her morning sparring sessions with her S.O.  Daisy knew she could just text her, but asking her a question was a great excuse to see May outside of training.  Daisy sighed in annoyance.  Honestly though, the base wasn’t that big, May had to be around somewhere.  Daisy paused, considering.  The lab, May’s quarters, the kitchen, May was nowhere to be found.  FitzSimmons hadn’t seen her, but maybe she’d check with Coulson before giving up completely.  His office was just down the hall, so she figured she’d drop in and ask after May.  She tapped on the slightly ajar door and pushed it open without waiting for a reply.

“Hey, Coulson, have you seen-”  She broke off at the sight that awaited her.  May was hastily removing herself from her previous position, which involved both her legs wrapped around Coulson’s waist.  The grin that painted Daisy’s face was massive, and she bounced on her toes in excitement.  It had taken months of her playing matchmaker for those two, and her hard work had finally paid off.  “Looks like your leg’s all better,” she remarked, grinning wider at the way May flushed despite her efforts to control it.  “See you tomorrow morning, May.  I want all the details.”  Daisy smirked as she strode down the hallway, followed by Coulson’s laughter and the sound of an affronted May slapping him.

Daisy was up at 4:45 with her alarm, slipping on her workout leggings and top and pulling her hair back into her signature ponytail.  As she approached the gym, her stomach churned with worry.  Was May even going to show up?  She hadn’t meant to interrupt them yesterday, and while Daisy thought she was close with May, maybe May thought differently?  What if she was mad at her?  What if-  The lights in the gym flicked on when Daisy was halfway down the hallway, and she breathed a sigh of relief.  Nobody but May would be up at this hour.  She was proven right when she rounded the corner and found her S.O. standing in the centre of the mats.

“Good morning!” Daisy singsonged, practically skipping towards her S.O.  May regarded her with impassivity, bright gym lighting glancing off her skin.

“Good morning, Daisy.”  Daisy bit her lip.  May didn’t seem too mad, but she certainly didn’t seem pleased with her.  They stood side by side and began t’ai chi, and Daisy let her thoughts slip away and her breathing steady as she fell into the familiar rhythm.  The movements were muscle memory to her now, and she slipped into a light trance as she went through the motions, the familiarity and May’s presence beside her strangely comforting.  Daisy breathed deeply as they finished their routine, letting her eyes flutter open.  She taped up her fists and turned to face May, shaking out her wrists.  

“Ready?”  Daisy scoffed.

“Am I ever not?”  May shook her head, smile quirking on her lips as she lunged.

“All the time.”  

Once Daisy felt like she was settling into their fight, she started up the conversation May had been dreading.

“So…  You and Coulson, huh?”  May’s fist struck out at her face, and she blocked before spinning away.

“Daisy, I’m not having this conversation with you.”  May ducked Daisy’s kick before making an unsuccessful grab at her leg.

“Why not?  I’ve been trying to set you two up for months.  I wanna hear the fruits of my labour.”  May launched into a series of spinning kicks and punches, momentarily distracting Daisy from nagging at her S.O.  “You do realise that going on the offensive isn’t gonna prevent this conversation from happening, right?”  May glowered at her from behind her fists, and Daisy giggled at her exasperation.  Faster than she could blink, Daisy was pinned to the mats, arms pinned beneath May’s knees.  She tugged at her hands to no avail; May had her well and truly pinned.

“I’ll make you a deal.  If you can keep quiet for five minutes, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”  Daisy almost laughed at her.  If May honestly thought that she was incapable of shutting up, then she was in for a big surprise.  Five minutes of silence to get all the juicy details about her favourite couple?  It was a sacrifice Daisy was willing to make.

“Okay.”  Daisy blinked when May didn’t release her from the pin, and instead adjusted her grip to make sure it was secure.  She almost opened her mouth to question May, but remembered at the last second that she wasn’t supposed to talk.  Her confusion was quickly cleared up, though, when she felt May’s fingers walking up her sides.  Her eyes widened and she bit back a squeak at the feeling.  May had discovered how ticklish she was completely by accident, adjusting her form while Daisy was punching a bag.  She didn’t take advantage of her knowledge all too often, but whenever she did, she left Daisy giggling on the floor.  May was surprisingly good at tickling, or maybe Daisy was just really ticklish, but either way, Daisy could never hold out for very long against her mentor.  Certainly not five minutes without making a sound.  For the first time that morning, May smiled.  Not the happy smile that Daisy loved to elicit from her S.O.- no, this smile was something far more dangerous.  An evil, mischievous smirk, one that May only wore when Daisy was really in for it.  Daisy squeezed her eyes shut and gulped in a huge breath of air.  She heard May chuckle above her, just before she felt fingers pressing between each of her ribs.  Daisy stiffened, inhaling sharply through her nose.  She kicked her legs involuntarily as the torment continued, just light enough to make her squirm and shake with suppressed laughter.  May paused for a moment, and Daisy took the chance to pull in a shaky breath to try and steady her breathing.  She opened her eyes to find May grinning down at her.

“How’s it going down there, Daisy?” she teased, clearly enjoying her power far too much.  Daisy glared at her, but was shocked into a squeal when May squeezed at the flesh below her ribs.  That one utterance broke the dam of Daisy’s self-control, and she quickly devolved into a squealing, giggling mess beneath May’s nimble fingers.  May laughed along with her, glad to see her protégé looking carefree and happy, like the child she had never gotten to be.  

“What’s that you were saying about us having that conversation?  You don’t really seem to be capable of talking at the moment.”

“Screhehehehew you!” she laughed, arching her back in a desperate bid for freedom.

“That’s no way to speak to your superior officer,” she teased, targeting the soft part of Daisy’s stomach.  Daisy shrieked at the electrifying feeling shooting up her spine and through her limbs, and the room around them trembled.  May smiled at her student, letting up when she felt the gym shake.  “You okay?”  She’d never made Daisy lose control of her powers before.  

“You’re mehehean,” Daisy giggled.  May scoffed.

“You agreed to this.  It’s not my fault you’re too ticklish for your own good.”  Daisy pouted, and try as May might, she could never resist when Daisy looked up at her with those adorable puppy eyes.  May sighed heavily and released Daisy from the pin, rolling over to lay down next to her.

“What do you want to know?” she sighed.  Daisy squealed and pulled May into a hug before bombarding her with questions.