#but i also want to wait and see how dunk & egg comes out before feeling more concrete about that

[atopvisenyashill]

i won’t say that george Won’t do it bc who could have guessed he’d take jaehaerys and alysanne his most romantic targ couple and make jaehaerys such a cartoon villain to every woman in his life even a lot of the people who stanned him are turned off him now, but i Will hold onto that “naerys isn’t in love with aemon & is attached to him bc he’s her only normal familial relationship but aemon desperately wants to fuck her and is hiding it bc he knows it would destroy her” idea until george physically comes to my apartment and tells me it’s not canon and even then i’d try to talk him into it.

[lumosinlove]

December 14, 2020: Day One

On the first day of Ficmas, Hazel gave to you...a Russian!Leo bakery AU!

(Also where Finnlo works themselves out while still at Harvard. For this fic, Leo is 23, Logan is 20, and Finn is 21)

“It’s closed,” Logan said, breathing hot air onto his hands as he slammed the passenger door shut against the thrashing snow storm.

“What?” Finn said. “No, it’s—it’s never closed.”

Logan shrugged. “It’s closed.”

“We came here on the blizzard last year! It was open. Nothing was open, and it was open.”

“Harz, what do you want me to say?”

“It’s closed?”

“It’s closed!”

Finn sat back in his seat, staring out the frosted window. “But—my everything bagel.”

Logan huffed out a laugh, leaning across the car to press a kiss to Finn’s cheek, which was warm from the car’s heat. Practice had ended with Coach wishing them a good holiday break—and then the storm had hit. Logan had been looking forward to locking their door and cuddling up to Finn in their dorm room before going home to New York for Christmas, and then to Quebec for New Years. He was bringing Finn home. Finn.

“Oof,” Finn winced, but tucked his fingers into the curls sticking out below Logan’s tuque. “You’re freezing, baby, c’mere.”

Logan would never get tired of this. They’d spent two years dancing around each other, but when Logan had had a few too many drinks one night, they’d snapped. Finn had followed him into a back room at some house party, and Logan had reached forward and kissed him. Finn had frozen and then melted, and Logan would never get tired of remembering the way Finn had clutched to him, they way they’d broken apart and stared at each other—the way Finn had broken out into a smile and kissed him again. Logan, he’d whispered. Logan, Logan, Logan.

Finn was the last thing Logan expected to find at Harvard. He was the last thing Logan expected to get to keep. Logan was afraid of a lot of things—but after seeing that look on Finn’s face, it became the thing he was most afraid of losing. He’d do anything to protect it.

Finn kissed him now, a steadying hand against his jaw. “Let’s go find somewhere else?”

“Okay,” Logan mumbled against his mouth. “Wait, a little more.”

Logan felt Finn’s laugh when he tilted his chin up, and swayed into the open kisses Finn pressed to his lips, then up his cheek. The snow beat against the windows, and Logan could have stayed right there forever.

“Little more once we get to where we’re going,” Finn said.

“Where are we going?”

Finn put the car back into drive. “No idea.”

They drove around at a creeping pace in the snow until they found themselves on an unfamiliar street, small and with cobblestones replacing the usual pavement. Only one of the storefronts had their lights on, the open sign flipped outwards. The lights looked warm, with Christmas stickers stuck to the windows around a proudly displayed name.

“Arakhisa’s,” Logan read out. “I don’t know, sounds Russian?”

Finn put his hand behind Logan’s seat to park the car. “Whatever it is, we’re finding out.”

The door jingled as they entered. The space was small and painted in creams. There were bits of mistletoe and holly on the tables in tiny vases besides canisters of napkins and cutlery. White Christmas lights were strung along the walls, along with paper snowflakes, artful and curling, hanging around the lights and casting snowing shadows across the entire room.

“Privet,” said a soft voice. “Hello, may I help?”

Logan looked up to see—

“Huh,” Finn said from beside him. “I mean, hi.”

“Hi,” the boy said, smiling at them. “You looking for something good, I can tell.”

Logan nodded. “Yeah, we are.”

“Welcome to Arakhisa’s,” the boy said. “We open last year.”

“Do you…” Finn began, twirling a finger around to gesture at the store.

“Yes, is mine. You have not come before.”

Logan liked his careful sounds, like he was putting everything he had into making sure they were clear.

“We’re creatures of habits, I guess,” Finn laughed, and then he rubbed the back of his neck. It was red, Logan noticed.

The boy held out his hand over the counter, and Logan watched Finn take it.

“I’m Leo,” he said.

“Finn.”

Leo’s hand was warm in Logan’s next. “Logan.”

“Nice to meet,” Leo glanced between them  “What you like? Sweet?”

Logan laughed and looked back down at the display case again. It was filled with golden breads, cakes and muffins.

“Or not so sweet, maybe? We have case, but also menu. Bad storm. Deserve something warm.”

Logan smiled. He liked how Leo said deserve.

“Yeah,” Logan nodded. “Sweet for me, not so much for him. Anything you’d suggest?”

Leo looked down, thinking. As he did, another boy came out from the back, apron on. Leo and the boy spoke fast Russian for a moment, laughing at something, before he nodded haltingly at the two of them, and then turned back towards the kitchen again, disappearing through the swinging door.

“Sorry,” Leo said, still smiling. “Okay, I’m choose for you? Sweet and not so sweet.”

“And warm,” Finn added with a very familiar smile. Logan suppressed a laugh. Finn was flirty by nature, but Logan would know that look anywhere. He thought Leo was hot, and Logan didn’t blame him.

“Dimples,” Logan whispered when they sat down after being directed by Leo.

“Tell me about it,” Finn laughed, fishing them out two sets of forks and knives from the canister on the table. He tapped the ends of his in a little rhythm on the table. “He’s hot. How old do you think he is?”

“I don’t know, our age? Little older, maybe,” Logan said.

The boy from the back appeared again, this time with a tray of a steaming pot of tea and two cups.

“Thank you,” Finn said.

The boy smiled softly and gave a halting, “Yes, good.”

The tea was strong and Logan watched Finn drink it straight while he dunked sugar and milk into his own. He felt the warmth like it was seeping straight into his bones.

“Merde, I didn’t know how cold I was,” Logan sighed.

Finn smiled at him over his cup. “Your cheeks tell all.”

Logan snorted. “Look in the mirror.”

“Bet I can warm you up when we get home.”

Logan looked at Finn over the rim of his cup.

Finn’s smile widened. “Yeah, baby, now I know I can.”

They talked, with their ankles hooked beneath the table, about practice, about Christmas and their flight out in a few days, until Leo was walking back over to them.

“Okay, ready?” Leo said, setting plates down. “Like tea?”

“It’s perfect,” Finn said.

“Good,” Leo smiled.

In front of Logan, Leo set down a stack of what looked like crêpes. They were drizzled with a sticky red sauce, some sort of berry, and Leo drizzled honey over them himself.

“Blini,” Leo said, gesturing towards it. “Sweet. And for Finn, eggs. Don’t touch pan, very hot. Sausage, too, and dill on top. Scoop with bread like spoon, okay?”

Finn did as he was told. “This is incredible.”

Logan was caught up in the honey-sweet across his tongue. “Ouais.”

Leo stood there, wiping his hands on his apron. “I’m happy, then. I let you enjoy.”

“Thank you, Leo,” Logan said—just wanting to say his name. He remembered feeling that way about Finn. Just wanting to feel him, even if only through words. He flushed with the connection, and smiled before ducking back down to his food.

“You have welcome,” Leo said, and Logan and Finn looked at each other as Leo turned away.

“That was the—” Finn leaned in. “Cutest shit.”

“We’re coming back tomorrow,” Logan said. “We’re coming back.”

~

“Welcome to Ar—oh,” Leo smiled at them the next day. He was holding a tray of sweet smelling croissants. “Hi, again.”

“Hi, again,” Finn said, hands in his pockets against the cold. “Looks like you’re our new favorite.”

Leo laughed, reaching into the case to straighten some cakes. “Me?”

“I—well,” Finn stuttered.

“Yeah,” Logan said, leaning his elbows on the counter. “Any more recommendations?”

“Hm,” Leo tilted his head. “You still a sweetheart?”

Logan blinked. “Quoi?”

Leo gestured to the case. “Still feel like sweet things?”

Finn let out a delighted laugh. “Oh. Sweet tooth.”

“Ah,” Leo said. “What I say?”

“Sweetheart is, uh,” Finn ran a hand through his hair. “Like, cute? Like, a—lover?” he stumbled over the words and Logan—sort of liked watching the way he and Leo blushed as Finn spoke.

“Oh,” Leo said, more quietly. “Sorry, didn’t mean—“

“No, it’s okay,” Logan shook his head quickly. “According to Finn, I’m a sweetheart and a sweet tooth so…no harm done.”

“Have practice or can go home for holiday?” Leo said, laughing a little as he tried to change the subject.

“How…” Logan began, and then looked down at his sweatshirt when Leo did. Harvard Hockey. “Oh. Hah, yeah, no, we can go home. We’re leaving today, actually. Tonight.”

Leo nodded, pulling two cream-filled pastries from the case. “Where you go?”

Finn held up two fingers. “First to New York, for me, and then to Quebec, for Lo.”

“New York,” Leo said, and turned towards the hot kettle, for their tea. Logan liked the way he moved, like it was all so well practiced, he could do it all in his sleep. “I have seen New York. Not…how you say?”

“Quebec,” Logan supplied. “Canada.”

“Oh,” Leo pushed the two plates towards them, and his smile turned cheeky as he looked at Finn and nodded at Logan. “Sounds better when he say.”

Finn laughed, taking the plates for the both of them. “Most things do. What are we trying today?”

“Sharlotka,” Leo said. “Sort of apple cake.”

Logan brought the pastry to his mouth, the cake crumbing back on to his plate when he took a bite. It was sweet and tart. It was perfect.

They watched Leo work from afar, going to and from the kitchen, laughing and charming customers. He tied boxes of cookies up with string, poured steaming take away cups of tea and coffee, fried up hot plates of eggs, instructing the customer to use the bread like a spoon, as he had with Finn.

Logan was—he didn’t know what. He was all caught up with the way he would accidentally catch Leo’s eye from across the room, just as he had been when he and Finn would lock gazes, across the Harvard locker room, across the showers.

“Leo,” Logan called as they left. Blue eyes met his own. “Have a good holiday.”

Leo’s eyes flickered between them, lips pressed together, and then he smiled. “Yes. Same as you.”

Christmas was a mess of happiness. Logan woke up in Finn’s childhood room, snug somewhere in the West Village. Finn walked him to his favorite coffee shop, just around the corner, and they sat at the bar in the window, warming up with the coffee and—kissing. Finn kissed Logan wherever and whenever. Finn took Logan apart at night, keeping him quiet and close. Logan took him apart in the morning. During the day, the re-fit the pieces of both of them together.

Finn was stroking Logan’s hips, kissing his chest and easing him down from a high when he asked.

“Do you think Leo had somewhere to go for Christmas?”

Logan took a second to breathe, a little surprised to hear Leo’s name out of Finn’s mouth so soon after coming, then looked down at Finn. They were both a little sweaty, and—Logan could never decide—but sometimes he thought he liked Finn best like that. Red cheeks and hair sticking up, a glisten at his neck.

“Uh,” Logan swallowed a pant. “Yeah?”

“I mean, his family might be in Russia. I didn’t see anyone other than that other boy there.”

“Maybe they’re together.”

“Oh. Yeah, maybe.”

Logan put a hand behind his head, the other on Finn’s neck. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Finn smiled, kissing just beside Logan’s softening cock. “We just didn’t ask him, that’s all.”

“We could have him over to the house, maybe,” Logan said, raking his fingers through Finn’s hair as he pushed his way up to lay beside him. “Or maybe a movie or something.”

“Yeah, I think we should,” Finn said, and turned onto his side, fingers trailing over Logan’s heated skin. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

Logan just smiled. “As gorgeous as you think Leo is?”

“Hey, I can think Leo’s gorgeous,” Finn laughed, then leaned in close. “But you, Lo…I’m so in love with you.”

They went back to the bakery almost every day when term started up again, but with coursework, and the season ending, they never invited Leo out. He went from a kind smile from behind the counter to a long Sunday afternoon lunch—Leo sitting at their table between rushes—but never more. Logan had to admit…he was a little terrified of the pull he felt. He didn’t know if Finn felt it, too. And, with Finn graduating soon, what they had already felt so fragile.

They were getting ready for bed late in the Spring semester when it happened. Finn’s phone rang. He went out into the hall to answer it.

He never did that.

Finn’s face, when he came back in, was stricken, emotions waring. Logan’s first thought was that something horrible had happened, he didn’t even think about the draft—he’d been trying so hard not to think about Finn leaving, the stubborn fear that Finn was leaving him behind—

Finn swallowed hard, the door closing behind him and his phone tight in his fist.

Logan pushed himself up on his elbows from where he was laying across Finn’s bed. “Harzy? Mon rouge—”

“They think I’ll go third overall.”

The world stilled.

“Third,” Logan breathed.

Finn nodded. He dropped his phone onto his dresser.

“Finn,” Logan whispered, and then he was rushing at him. “Finn.”

He’d miss him. He’d ache over him. He was so happy for him.

“I can’t imagine it without you,” Finn said from where his nose was buried in Logan’s neck. His voice was thick with tears. “Lo.”

“You can’t think about me right now,” Logan laughed, tearfully, and pulled back, taking Finn’s face in his hands. “We always knew Harvard wasn’t forever. But you are.”

Finn sniffed, brown eyes filled. “I can’t even think about losing you.”

“And you think I can?” Logan pushed up and kissed him, mumbling the next words into it. “I’m so happy for you.”

They swayed as they hugged, and Logan closed his eyes at the feeling of Finn’s fingers running through his hair. “Will you visit me?”

Logan kissed him again and again until Finn’s back was pressed against the doorframe. Until Finn smiled.

“Send me your jersey, I’ll take some nice pictures for you. Maybe I’ll bring Leo to a game, that’ll make you happy.”

Finn brushed their noses together, laughing. ”That sounds good. And as long as you send me yours. When it happens.”

The notion send rocking waves through Logan all over again. It had happened to Finn, the NHL…it could happen to him.

And what would happen to them?

Logan opened the door to Leo’s bakery, and was met with Leo’s soft smile. It was a relief. His eyes still felt raw from saying goodbye to Finn. He still felt raw.

“Alone today?” Leo said.

“Sort of,” Logan said, smile shaky. “Well,” he looked back at the door, at their usual table by the corner. “Yeah.”

Leo’s eyes flickered with concern, and he tilted his head. “Need something sweet?”

Logan let out a breath and leaned on the counter. “Yeah. That would be nice.”

Leo nodded. “I’m find something perfect for you.”

Logan, though, really thought he had too many perfect things already. He hardly knew what to do with them all.

{A/N: Leo’s bakery’s name translates to Peanut’s…I think.]

[winter-turtle]

I know this wouldn’t happen since your fic is a no power au, but you saying you love sick fic peter with protective iron dad in your other ask made me wonder, what WOULD Mob boss Tony’s reaction to the bite be? Especially if Peter got REALLY sick like some fics have him be. (Probably many, MANY, unalived oscorp employees, that’s for sure)

You, my friend, got me thinking. So despite me being busy whole day, I still went and wrote something short for this tumblr exclusive (I always wanted to say that) AU of an AU.

Or "what if" of The Ties That Bind Us/Grow As We Go

It's way past one in the morning, so please excuse any mistakes and enjoy these 850 words.

Tony was worried sick. But his “worried sick” had nothing on Peter’s “actually sick”. He shouldn’t have allowed Peter to go on that god-forsaken field trip to Oscorp.

“What do you mean you can’t figure out what’s wrong with him?! Why the hell am I even paying you for then?” he’d yelled at Strange and Cho from the top of his lungs.

His kid was in pain. That much was obvious.

It had all started after the dinner. Peter hadn’t eaten all that much in the first place – which, okay, combined with how pale the boy looked, Tony had assumed Peter got a cold or flu or something – but after he’d excused himself and said he was going to bed, he didn’t make it five steps before he collapsed.

They called in Strange, Cho as well, but even with their combined forces they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with Peter. The only lead they had was a red spot on Peter’s hand and the abnormal bloodwork results.

It wasn’t until the team had looked through Peter’s camera for clues that they discovered another lead. Radioactive spiders display.

A quick hack to Oscorp’s security feed had shown Peter slapping something from his hand before he went to catch up with the group.

That’s when Bruce got called in.

That was two days ago.

Besides quick trips to end the lives of various scientists – already bloodied scientists that had received treatment from the rest of the team – who had something to do with the project and even the owner himself, Tony faithfully remained at his barely-lucid son’s side.

The too-high fever, the labored breathing, the seizures – it made Tony feel like ripping his own hair out. If given the chance, he would’ve gladly taken Peter’s place if it would take the pain away from the teen. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option, so all what was left for him to do was to gently wipe the sweat from Peter’s forehead with cool cloth.

Damn it, he just got his son into his life, he couldn’t lose him!

Peter sighed at the coolness, barely peeled his eyelids open before they slid shut once again. His skin was so hot that if given enough time, you could fry an egg on him.

Tony shook his head, dunked the cloth into the water, squeezed most of it out before resuming the now-too-familiar motions.

Tony was reluctantly dragged into shower when Peter somehow stabilized the next day.

Peter woke up… feeling better than expected if he was being honest. He had some vague recollection of intense pain, but there was no trace of it. He also woke up in company of passed out and very tired-looking Pepper in the armchair next to his bed.

So, as quietly as he could, Peter unhooked himself from the IV, got from under the light blanket and headed to the door.

“What the…?” he muttered when his hand remained on the handle as if it was glued there. He tugged and tugged, but the hand didn’t budge. It was only then that he noticed the blanket stuck to his other hand.

The sound of his struggling must’ve woken Pepper up and she had to alert others because the next thing Peter knew, he was surrounded by his family.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Tony – who looked like he just woke up – asked worriedly.

“Dad, someone- someone glued me to the door! I can’t get my hand free- whoa!”

Several people had to jump out of the way of the door that got ripped out of its hinges. Even if Peter tugged hard, there was no possibility that he’d tugged that hard. He opened his hand, but the handle was still stuck to his palm. Everybody looked as surprised as him.

“Isn’t that… heavy?” Clint asked, breaking the silence.

“It’s… not…” Peter replied as he waved the door around. “I know it’s supposed to be, but… wait, is this a dream?”

“Kiddo, if this is a dream, then we’re all somehow interconnected,” Tony said. “And I know for sure that no glue is strong enough to do… that. Okay, uh, maybe try to relax? It might make the door unstick?”

True to his words and several shakes later, the door fell on the ground with a loud bang.

“Kid—”

“Don’t!” Peter cried out as he backed away. “Please, don’t come any closer. I don’t know what’s happening, but I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” They all stared with mouths hanging open. Peter’s jaw fell too once he realized what position he was in. He was pressing himself against the wall.

But a foot off the ground.

He began to hyperventilate.

“Pete,” Tony said gently as he approached, “don’t worry. I know for a fact that you would never hurt us. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.” Tony reached his hand. “Together.”

Peter, managing to calm down, tentatively reached his own hand towards his dad. Upon seeing that nothing bad happened, he wrapped himself around Tony’s front like a koala, burying his face in Tony’s neck.

“Together.”

[4stars-uswnt]

Through Sickness and Health [USWNT x Reader]

requested by anon: Could you write something with baby reader getting sick/hurt and the rest of the team taking care of them, preferably with Christen & Tobin being the “team moms” to them.

A/N: yay for t & c scoring today!!!

You stare at the plate of breakfast in front of you, massaging your temples, as if you could somehow rub the pounding headache away.

“Woah, (Y/N), you don’t look too good.” Emily observes, pausing mid bite of her eggs.

“Wow, thanks, Em.” You roll your eyes sarcastically.

“No, she’s right, (Y/N).” Mal rubs your back, examining you closely. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, guys, I’m fine. It’s just a little headache, probably because I din’t sleep that well.” You mumble, leaning your hooded head onto Mal’s shoulder.

“Alright well, drink up, we gotta go to the field.” Mal pushes your glass of water in front of you.  

You gulp down the water, slamming the cup on the table, as you get up and follow your teammates onto the bus.

—————

It was almost the end of practice, and you felt like you were either going to throw up or collapse, or both. Your head was pounding, your throat was dry, and your stomach was doing somersaults.

As soon as Vlatko blew the whistle, you rest your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath, exorbitant amounts of sweat dripping off of you.

“Kiddo, you okay?” Tobin comes up from behind you, resting her hand on your back.

You huff out a sigh and stand up right. “Yeah, I’m good.” You nod, sighing.

“Alright,” The older forward hums, squinting her eyes skeptically, “let’s get you on the bus.”

She wraps her arm around your shoulders, guiding you off the field. As you’re walking, your legs wobble like jelly, and you can feel them start to weaken.

“Tobes… I don’t feel so good.” You softly groan, before you completely faint, collapsing in Tobin’s arms.

“(Y/N)!” Tobin exclaims, gently laying you down on the grass. “(Y/N)? You with me?”

“Tobin!” Christen calls, frantically running up to the two of you, followed by the rest of the USWNT. “What happened?”

“I don’t know! She just fainted.”

Christen kneels down next to you and feels your forehead with the back of her hand. “She’s burning up.”

“She wasn’t looking too good this morning at breakfast.” Mal interjects, frowning worriedly.

“Yeah, she’d said she had a little headache.” Emily adds.

“Well why didn’t anybody say anything?!” Christen snaps at the younger defender, who just shrinks. An angry Christen Press was definitely a sight to fear.

When you first joined the national team a couple of years ago, at the age of 18, Christen and Tobin immediately took you under their wings, crowning themselves your official team moms. The two helped you both on and off the pitch, whether it be watching game film with you or discussing your decision to play professional. They were also particularly protective of you, especially Christen, who was also your Royals teammate.

“Chris, they didn’t know.” Tobin calms down the upset woman, reminding her the task at hand.

“Right.” Christen sighs, nodding her head.

Vlatko approaches the group, followed by the medical staff. “Guys, give (Y/N) some space.”

The women back up, making some room for the trainers and the stretcher, while Tobin and Christen stay close to you.

As they load you onto the stretcher, Tobin furrows her brows. “Where are you taking her?”

“We’re just gonna take her into the med room back in the locker room to check up on her. I don’t think it’s anything too too serious, but we want her to wake up before we make any diagnosis and take her back to the hotel.” One of the trainers explains.

“Can we come with you?” Christen asks, nervously biting her lip.

“If you’d like.” He nods, and the two forwards follow the medical staff.

Back in the med room, the trainers put you onto the bed and get a cool towel to put on your head. While you were not awake yet, they had a feeling it was a case of the stomach flu, so they got a cup of water and thermometer ready for you.

About five minutes later, you slowly opened your eyes and grumbled. “Whaaa…what happened?” You groggily rubbed your eyes, as you try to sit up.

“Woah, sweetie, how about you lie back down.” Christen gently pushes you back down to the med table. “You fainted, (Y/N). They say it’s the stomach flu.”

“Ugh… just great.” You mumbled under your breath, groaning in frustration and discomfort.

The head trainer, who’d noticed you were awake, reentered the room. “Hey, (Y/N), how are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a bus.” You mutter.

He picks up the thermometer and hands you a cup of water, which you sip, soothing your dry throat.

“I’m just gonna quickly take your temperature.” He motions for you to open your mouth.

A couple of moments pass before a beep sounds. “102.4” The trainer reads, before turning to Christen and Tobin. “Make sure she gets plenty of rest and drinks lots of water. I recommend taking her temperature every two hours or so, and when her fever breaks, then come talk to me.”

“You know I’m right here? I can take care of myself.” You protest.

Tom and Christen share a look, exchanging a silent conversation.

“Sounds good, Tom. Thank you.” The curly-haired forward smiles, and the trainer nods, making his exit.

Once the three of you are alone, Tobin starts, “(Y/N),” she brushes your hair out of your face, “Em and Mal said that you weren’t feeling too well earlier this morning. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think it was that bad, and I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it or worry you guys.” You shrug, avoiding eye contact with both women. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, honey.” Christen reassures. “We were just extremely worried when you fainted, especially since we didn’t know what was wrong.”

“Yeah, we care about you, kid.” Tobin coos.

“I love you, guys.” You mumble tiredly.

“We love you too, (Y/N/N).” Christen softly smile, reaching for your hand. “Now, c’mon, let’s get you back to the hotel, so you can rest.”

“Can one of you carry me?” You plead, giving them your best puppy eyes.

Tobin rolls her eyes at your childish behavior. “Sure, kiddo, hop on.” She squats down, so you can climb onto her back. The three of you make your way to one of the team vans, the bus having already left, and you head back to the hotel.

—————

As you’d fallen asleep on the ride over, Tobin carries you up to your room, takes your shoes off, and tucks you into bed.

After about an hour and a half of sleeping, you wake up, feeling a little better, but still quite uncomfortable.

“Hey, how you feeling?” Christen puts her book down, noticing you’re up.

“Eh, a little better.”

“Here, let me take your temperature.” She reaches for the thermometer and approaches you. “100.6. Not as bad, but not good. You’re still burning up.” She feels your forehead. “How about I draw you a warm bath? It might help cool you down, and you still stink from training.”

You stick out your tongue at her. “Chrissss, I don’t wanna move.” You whine.

“C’mon, you big baby. I’ll get it started.” She heads into the bathroom and starts the water, ignoring your grumbling and protests.

You throw the blanket off your body and begrudgingly enter the bathroom, where Christen’s sitting on the edge of the bath full of warm water and bubbles.

“Here, I’ll turn around, so you can get in.” The older woman stands up and turns to face the door.

You strip off your clothes and toss them to the side before sinking into the bath.

“You can turn around now.” You announce to Christen, as you close your eyes, relaxing in the warm water.

“Feel good?” She asks, returning to sit on the edge of the bath.

“Mhmm.” You hum, before opening your eyes. “Where’s Tobin?”

“She went to get you some snacks, medicine, and some more water.” Christen answers, as she reaches for the shampoo. “Wet your hair for me?”

You lean back, letting your hair fall in the water while keeping your face drying. You sit back up, and Christen begins to wash your hair. As she massages your scalp, you feel your eyes droop. You hear the door open and close, and Tobin peeks her head in the door.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), you’re up? You good?”

“Mhmm.” You blissfully hum.

“I see the bath is helping.” Tobin smirks, winking at Christen. “Well, I got you some snacks and meds.” She holds up a bag.

Your eyes fly open at the mention of food. “Oooo, what kind?!” You sit up so fast that water and bubbles splash onto the brunette forward.

Christen glares at you, and you shrink back into the water. “Wash.” She points.

You dunk your entire head in the water, squeezing your eyes shut, and you scrub the soap out of your hair. Emerging from the water, you wipe the water from your face and see Tobin has joined Christen, sitting on the edge of the tub.

“So what kinda snacks did you get?” You eagerly ask.

Tobin chuckles and leans down, reaching into the bag. “I got some cheddar popcorn, Oreos, pita chips, and some banana and peanut butter.”

You grin at the thought of all your favorite snacks. But before you could reach out for one, Christen cuts in.

“Wait, (Y/N/N), you sure you up to eating something? Is your stomach feeling better? I don’t want you to throw up again.” She gives you a worried glance. You wince, as you remember the throw up incidences in the car as well as when you arrived to the hotel.

“My stomach is feeling a little better.” You assure the older woman, who’s still looking at you wearily. “How about I start with a banana?” You propose, trying to rest Christen’s qualms.

“Okay.” She nods, giving in, and Tobin breaks off a banana from the bunch, peeling it and handing it to you.

“Thanks, Tobes.” You grab it and take a bite.

After you finish half the banana, your stomach not wanting any more, and after your bath, you find yourself back in bed, sandwiched between the two forwards.

The three of you start to make some light conversation, when there’s a knock on the door.

Tobin slides off the bed and opens the door, and the rest of your teammates flood into your hotel room, climbing either on your bed or the bed across from you.

Mal, who took Tobin’s spot next to you, much to her displeasure, cuddled into your side. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Mhm.” You nod, snuggling into her body.

“Good. I was really worried.” She mumbles into your shoulder.

Your heart swells, and you grin. “Don’t worry. I’m good.”

“(Y/N), open up.” Christen interrupts, holding out the thermometer. “98.7” She reads, smiling.

“Thank goodness!” Kelley calls from the table, as she puts an Oreo in her mouth and plops at the foot of your bed. “We thought you died.” She exaggerates.

“Shut up, Kel.” You roll your eyes. “And stop eating my snacks.” You kick up your foot, trying to nudge the defender.

“No, but in all seriousness, (Y/N), we’re all really glad you’re okay.” Megan insists.

“Yeah, when you collapsed, we kinda all freaked out.” Julie adds, several of the other women nodding along.

“I think the scariest part was that we didn’t know what was wrong.” Alex says, and Christen hums in agreement.

“We want you to know that you can come to us with anything because we’re always here for you.” She softly grins down at you.

“Thanks you guys. It really does mean a lot. I’ve never really had people like you guys in my life.” You confess, smiling at your team.

“Well, you better get use to it because we’re not going anywhere!” Ashlyn exclaims, as she jumps on the bed, encouraging the other women to dog pile on you as well.

You look around you and can’t help but feel warmth spread throughout your body, and this time not from your fever but from love. You were extremely grateful that you had this team of women, especially Tobin and Christen, in your life, who’d be there for you through sickness and health.

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

aaaah I was wondering if I could request a draco x reader w/ social anxiety? draco being a fluffy boi 🥺

Oh my lord you guys are GETTING ADORABLE WITH THESE REQUESTS

You were so not a fan of being around people

Thank God you ended up in the most reclusive house

Slytherin

You always kept to yourself, you didn't really talk much

Large crowds scared you so you usually ate dinner in your room

No one really noticed you

The most anyone had conversated with you was the portraits on the walls because you'd sometimes sit on the benches

The ghosts also knew you by name too

Moaning Myrtle actually didn't hate your guts.

Well one day you were in a hurry and you accidentally ran into Draco.

"Ow-- Geez, watch where you're going!" He winced as the spine of one of your books hit him on his elbow

"S-S.. Sorry." You apologized, grabbing your books in a hurry and then running off.

Draco realized he had no idea who you were

"Goyle, who was that?" Draco asked.

"I'm not sure." Goyle shrugged.

"Crabbe?" "I don't know either."

So he started asking around and no one had conclusive answers.

Not even Fred and George seemed to know the hell you were.

One day Draco saw you walking.

"Hey, wait a minute." He said after one of your books fell.

You turned around and he handed it to you.

"What's your name?" He asked.

You were practically shaking and it worried him.

"Uh.. Uhm... I-I..." You swallowed and he frowned.

"Y-Y/n.. my name is Y/n." You said.

So there was the answer.

You looked down at your watch and grabbed the book before running.

He began to notice he actually had a lot of his classes with you.

He started trying to talk to you more and more and you usually would have panicked responses

One day he sat next to you in potions and you seemed very... Withdrawn

You weren't talking, you weren't showing any signs of communication

Draco was actually concerned.

He noticed you were gazed out and staring at your desk.

Then your head dropped a little like you were sleeping.

He tapped your shoulder and you just toppled over out of your seat

He caught you before you could actually hit the floor but he was really concerned

Basically: your body hadn't slept in a few days and you literally crashed.

You conked the fuck out.

Draco would always check on you while you were recovering in the medical wing.

You woke up confused and he was sitting there with a book just reading.

"...D-Draco?" You muttered.

He didn't say anything. He just pushed a jello cup to you and kept reading.

Draco was a lot more pushy with you though

"Have you eaten?" "Have you slept?" "When's the last time you drank water?"

You were confused on why he seemed to care but you still answered him.

He would notice you refuse to go to quidditch games or even walk into the great hall for dinner.

The house elves of the school knew you by name as well.

"Miss L/n, we made you some brownies for your passing of the exams" one of them told you.

You smiled and took them, thanking the house elf.

Draco was surprised that even the smallest creatures of the castle seemed to know you.

"Good Evening Y/n" Nearly Headless Nick would greet you in the halls

"Good Evening Sir Nicolas, enjoying your stroll?" You would greet back.

Draco was baffled and confused on how you had no problem with talking to these things but struggled to find words around actual people.

You noticed that he was of course following you around more

Especially since he would just take your books from you and start walking to your next class

So one night you were in the common room

You couldn't sleep so you just sat on the couch with the fire place going.

Draco is a night owl and found you.

"Y/n? What are you doing up, do you try to have another passing out incident?" Draco asked.

You sighed and just stared at the fire.

"what's wrong?" He asked sitting next to you.

"We go home in a few weeks." You muttered.

"Do you not want to go home?" Draco asked.

"Not if my step brothers are there." You muttered.

That was the first hint that something was not right to Draco

He looked at you and then had an idea.

"Wanna spend the summer with my family?" He asked.

You looked over. "You barely know me."

"Think of this as... A friendship investment?" He suggested.

"But--" "if that's an argument forming it's nonsense just say yes."

So you spent the summer at Draco's

Lucius noticed you retreat back but he didn't really comment on it

Narcissa actually got you to open up though

You'd sit in this day room like area with her and have tea

She learned all sorts of little things about you

You came from a wealthy family

Your dad was practically your best friend

Your stepmother was nice but your step brothers seemed to loathe you.

Draco began to notice his mother with you

How you would actually smile around her

You wouldn't stutter that much

Draco began spending time with you and Narcissa

He actually discovered you were very very sweet and VERY sarcastic

You loved to read and often read muggle books

According to you it's "interesting to find out what muggles can come up with when they don't know magic"

When you went back to school more people suddenly knew who you were

They'd just randomly greet you and it made you uncomfortable

Like really uncomfortable

Draco was with you most of the time and you'd actually hide behind him sometimes

He almost found it... Cute?

But the one student you finally seemed to open up to besides Draco was Neville

He understood you

He understood what it was like to live with anxiety

So he introduced you to another friend

Luna.

You and Luna were best friends, always smiling and sharing these small inside jokes

She was a year below you so you only saw her in your free time but Draco was glad you were trying to communicate

Hogsmeade was a thing

Draco kept close to you at all times and you seemed so weird a few days before the trip

You kept sniffing the air

"I smell snow." You'd say

"Y/n, snow is frozen water, it doesn't have a smell." He'd tell you.

"Ask Luna. I can smell snow." You'd tell him.

He thought it was bullshit but one night he saw you sneak out.

He followed you and you nearly had a heart attack.

"What are you doing!?" He whisper shouted.

"I can smell snow Draco, it's going to happen." You told him.

"Y/n, this is absolutely ridiculous--"

Guess what.

It snowed.

Draco was so confused but you were looking up at the night sky with this gorgeous smile as snowflakes fell onto you

He fell for you. Then and there

How could he not?

So you two snuck back to the common room, drinking hot cocoa and clinking your mugs together for the first snow fall of the winter.

Hogsmeade was amazing

Neville was happy to hang out with you

Though Draco was acting a tad... Odd

An unexpected friendship duo I didn't know I needed: Draco and Neville

Neville kind of pulled him to the side while you were sidetracked and looking at something and was like "Dude are you okay"

And Draco kind of told him about the first snow fall and Neville had this smile "Draco... You like her."

"Oh.... OH." Draco realized.

"What are you two talking about?" You asked curiously.

"QUIDDITCH!" they both lied.

"I've never been one for sports." You shrugged.

You, Neville and Draco would have days where you all sat in the library

There would be a break in the day where Draco had a class but you and Neville didn't

That was when you revealed "Neville, I think I like Draco" but you also made him swear to secrecy.

He was in this frustrated state.

HE WANTED YOU TWO TOGETHER GOD DAMNIT.

You ended up spending the summer with Neville, Luna and.... Draco

Neville's parents? SO FUCKING SWEET

Luna was so awesome to hang out with too.

You and Neville were like siblings and Draco enjoyed seeing you smile and laugh around them

So the fourth year starts

And you hate it even more because there are EVEN MORE STUDENTS NOW

You were surrounded by people 24/7 and you were NOT A FUCKING FAN MAN

But you found comfort in Fleur though.

She found you one day in the library and had to sit with you because it was too crowded.

She was so sweet to you

Like holy crap

New friend? Obtained

You watched the goblet of fire do it's thing

"Harry potter" was drawn and Draco seemed to twitch

You knew about some quidditch rivalry but never knew the extent of it

Draco just griped about how the boy effortlessly ended up in the public eye constantly.

You didn't seem to care though. Fleur was in the competition so you would cheer her on

You loved seeing your friend go out and kick some ass.

For the first time you were able to sit in the quidditch arena with a group and not feel absolutely terrified about being around people

You were however very much afraid of the dragon that was chasing Fluer

She made it though

Your group helped her with her egg and all of you seemed baffled on why it SCREAMED.

"It's making noise for a reason." Luna said looking at it

"But why?" Draco asked.

"Maybe we're not listening to it correctly?" Neville suggested.

"Hmm?" Fleur asked.

"Muffle the noise?" You asked seeing what Neville meant.

So she dunked it underwater

Somehow it got back to you that Harry was having trouble figuring out the purpose of the egg too.

You were the one that hinted on how to solve it.

After catching wind of this, Fred and George had to know who you were.

After all, you had an oddball group of friends

So they scared the crap out of you a few... Dozen times trying to get to know you

But because Fred and George aren't completely stupid they asked the portraits "how do we get to know her?"

They told them to be patient and sure enough they were in.

Fred and George both noticed you and Draco spending a lot of time together

You actually got the whole group into baking

Like you stressed baked during the trials for Fleur

So one day Draco decided to learn how to make cookies

And you two got into a flour fight and you were giggling the whole time

The two of you made cookies but Draco couldn't actually pick them up because he insisted his hands were dirty. So you were sitting on the counter and fed him one.

He smiled and looked at you, wiping off some excess chocolate on your face

You and him exchanged this look and he FINALLY kissed you.

You two finally started dating and Neville almost cried.

"I HAVE BEEN HIDING YOUR CRUSHES FOR ALMOST A YEAR AND I'VE BEEN GOING INSANE"

The second trial comes along and you're watching it with the group, Neville helping Harry with something so he could breathe underwater

You and Draco were sitting on the docks playing poker with jellybeans with the group

Everyone started coming back

Fleur was empty handed and she was panicked.

"Gabrielle-- she's down there I-I Co-couldn't

You knew who that girl was from the conversations you had and frowned.

"Neville do you have any of those things left" you asked.

Neville handed you gillyweed and you ate it, jumping in with no hesitation

Draco nearly jumped in after you but Fred assured him that if it took too long George and him would go get him

You came back up with Gabrielle though and were shivering the whole time

"IT IS FUCKING COLD." You shivered.

So you took that dance class and to everyone's surprise you actually could dance.

Though you were mumbling "One two three"

You still did quite well

Draco was smiling the entire time

"Hey Y/n... Would you like to go to the Yule ball?" He asked you.

That made you trip and fall onto him.

"Fuck-- sorry-- I am so sorry!" You apologized

"Love, if I weren't so used to this then this would be slightly alarming." Draco chuckled, helping you up.

You chuckled and sighed. "Yes." You nodded.

"Hmm?" "To the dance. Yes."

So Luna was the one who helped you that night

Neville went with Luna that year and it was fun for the whole group

They were all ✨classy✨

But you. You were stunning

When you came down the stairs Draco's eyes were huge

"Fred do you have sunglasses because my girlfriend's radiance is BLINDING ME."

He was dancing with you and he would whisper sweet little compliments in your ear.

For the first time in a crowd you weren't so scared anymore

The group loved seeing you so happy with Draco

They all snuck back to the Slytherin common room and you were all eating cookies when Snape found you all

"Hi professor... Cookie?" Fred offered

"... Insolent children"

Harry ending up winning and giving the money to Fred and George

Summer at the burrow and you finally meeting the rest of the Weasleys

Molly loving you

Molly loving Draco

MOLLY ADORING LUNA

Molly LOVING NEVILLE TOO

All of you laughing and having campfires during the night

Luna plays guitar?

Fred does too?

You all being kind of sad when you go back to school because it's Fred and George's last year.

You all spending as much time as possible together

Agreeing to work in the store after graduation as their "numbers gal"

Doing that after graduation

Draco also working at the store? Whaaa

Neville becoming a herbology professor

Luna becoming a caretaker of magical creatures and helping out with the shop too

Draco proposing to you one night after closing

Fred and George cracking out the champagne

And you telling them getting drunk in a building with things that can explode was a terrible plan

But you did it anyway

Nothing bad happened but still

You and Draco getting married that year and the whole group was nearly crying the entire time

Neville was the best man (again this is a duo I didn't know I needed until now)

Luna was the maid of honor

You had your son... Scorpius Fredrick Malfoy

Fred was crying the entire time holding the kid because he was "so smallll"

George saying "Of course he's small he's a baby moron... But he is cute"

[kinsey3furry300]

A very confused Star Wars Fan desperately tries to justify their belief that “Caravan of Courage” shows the way forward for the franchise. No, really.

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve loved Star Wars. And I mean, all of it. The books, the games, the Lego, the spin-offs: I even enjoy the Holiday Special in a The Room so-bad-you-just-need-to-see-it sort of way.  But particularly the films. But here is when we run into the big problem: I’m just the wrong age. The original trilogy launched before I was born, the prequel trilogy hit cinemas when I was already a teen and while I went and saw them and enjoyed them, I was at that age where I was self-conscious about seeing a “kids” film, and hyper-aware of how silly and cringy those films were in parts. So my indoctrination, my inoculation with the Star Wars bug didn’t happen in the cinema, and it didn’t happen with any of the main franchise works. It happened on home video, on a skiing trip in the French Alps in the early 90’s. I’d have been about 6, and this was the first time I’d ever been abroad other than to see relatives in Ireland.  And I loved it: to this day I love skiing, but more than that, I have very, very fond childhood memories of this trip. This was shortly before I lost my biological mother to cancer, she’d have received her diagnosis just after we got back from the trip. This was when my younger sister stopped being an annoying screaming thing and became and became an actual person I could talk and play and share ideas with, this was before the combination my mothers long illness and my father having just launched his own IT start up meant I didn’t see him or her any more, despite the fact they were in the same house as me. This was this wonderful, nostalgic child-hood bubble when my family was intact, and nothing could ever go wrong. I skied all day with mum and dad, and would come back to the chalet in the evening. It was an English speaking chalet, I met my first real-life American there, and having grown up in the 90’s in the UK nothing was cooler than making friends with an actual American my own age. He had a hulk Hogan action figure with springs in the legs so if you put him on a hard surface and punched his head down, when you let go he’d jump really high in the air. We used to play with it together in the bath, back in that weird 90’s time-bubble when it was possible to convince two sets of parents that this kid you’d just met was you best friend in the world and of course shared bath time was, somehow, normal and appropriate. And fresh from bath time, tired from the day, the parents would give us some hot coco, dump us kids in front of the tv and grab the first shitty low-budget VHS they could find to keep us distracted while they went to the bar. In this particular time, in this particular place, that shitty low budget cartoon was the  complete set of the 1985 Lucasfilm/ABC Ewoks cartoon, plus the two spin off movies, and to this day that cheap, kitschy, kind of bad series has a special warm and cosy place in my heart. I remember being enthralled by the world, in love with the characters, applied by the bad guys and the injustice they caused (to this day I’m still irate about that time Wicket lost his set of beads documenting his progress towards becoming a full warrior and the older Ewoks basically said, tough, you need to re-earn all those merit badges from scratch. This struck me as exactly the sort of bullshit an adult would pull, and pissed me off) and on tenterhooks about what would happen to the characters.

It was also, by a coincidence, the first ever Star Wars media I was exposed to, and the above combination of events probably explains a lot about me.

So I was surprised, the other day, when scrolling Disney+, to find they’d added Caravan of Courage AND Battle for Endor to the roster in my region. Surely Disney wouldn’t want their slick, cool brand associated with this old trash? Surely there could be no place for this in the post-Mandalorian Star Wars cannon? Surely this is a horrible mistake some intern made, right?

Unless…. What if I’ve miss-remembered? What if it’s not just rose-tinted nostalgia goggles, and it’s, in fact, secretly really, really good?

I rushed to my comfy chair, got a blanket, dimmed the lights, made some coco (with rum in it, because why the hell not?) and sat down to re-examine this lost gem.

And wow: it’s every bit as shit as you’d expect.

It has aged exactly as poorly as you’d expect a cheap, mid 80’s direct to video spin-off to age. Caravan of Courage? More like Caravan of Garbage, am I right?

And yet… I still enjoyed every moment.

And it was sitting there, in my pyjamas, watching a cheaply made direct to video cash-grab from just before I was born, seeing it again for the first time in nearly 30 years, and I realised something.

It doesn’t really matter if this film is bad, so long as I enjoy it. And if it doesn’t really mater if this is bad, then I, like many Star Wars fans, wasted a huge amount of time and emotional effort on being butthurt about stuff I didn’t like about the Rise of Skywalker and it’s ilk. Because somewhere, right now, a tired and frustrated parent is putting Disney+ on to keep their kids quiet for two hours. And they won’t think too hard about what they put on, so long as it keeps little Timmy busy for a bit. Somewhere, right now, a kid is watching Rise of Skywalker, and it’s the first Star Wars media they’ve ever seen.

And that’s okay. Because we don’t know what that kids home life is like. We don’t know if it’s good or bad. Maybe it’s great, maybe it’s about to take a dramatic plunge like mine did, and this moment here will be the cosy, warm memory they look back on in 30 years time, and that’s beautiful.  They’re getting introduced to a fun, wonderful fantasy world that could be with them all their lives, through good times and bad, and as fans we should be happy about that.

Star Wars will never, die: it’s too darn profitable, Disney will never let it. And while I hope they learn from their mistakes and make sure every future Star Wars is a timeless gem of story-telling, statistically, if you keep making enough films, some of them will be bad. And while I’d like them all to be great, it’s still okay if they’re bad.

Because nothing can take away my memories of that week in that chalet. Nothing can take-away my memories of when they put the original trilogy on in cinemas for the special edition and I had my jaw hit the floor with how good it was on the big screen, not knowing or caring who shot first. Nothing can take away you memories of the Original Trilogy, the Prequels, or the Clone Wars. Nothing can tarnish the bits of the sequil trilogy that you like, and there are good bits in there.

But wait, what about continuity? What about the sacred, perfect written time-line that used to exist?

Well, what about it? Have you seen any other big, epic fantasy universe before? They’re all a mess. A work of fiction, particularly fantasy, can be extensive, or tightly written, but not both. Harry Potter is only seven books, and the last two feel, tonally, like they’re from an entirely different series. I love them, but the grim-dark kicked in so fast you’ll get whiplash. The Hobbit is a perfect written self-contained novel, and LOTR is *The* big boy high-fantasy trilogy: fast forward 50 years, and Christopher Tolkien is desperately squeezing every last drop of money out of his father’s corpse by finishing and publishing every unfinished note JRR ever wrote right down to his shopping lists. Even Dune goes of the rails with sequels. I can only think of four fantasy works that are both extensive and consistently tightly written, Song of Ice and Fire, Wheel of Time, Malazan: Book of the Fallen and Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere universe. And even then, the prequels and spin-offs mess with the timelines: the Dunk and Egg novella’s change some character’s canonical ages and timelines, Wheel of Time was going slowly off the rails even before the Jordan died, Forge of Darkness made what was a good metaphor for the creation of it’s world into a literal war deep in the past, and Sanderson’s first Novel Elantris got a re-write to bring it more in line with the rest of the shared universe. The MCU, oft held up as the modern example of tightly planned, well thought out ongoing storytelling, is a lie: it was never as pre-planned out as Disney wants us to think; the first Iron Man, apparently, barely had a script, with Downey ad-lib-ing most of his scenes. None of the MCU films are direct sequels to each-other other than Infinity war and Endgame. There are three Iron Man films, and Three Thor films, and none continue an ongoing story line across multiple films, and the Cap films barely continue an arc, but only where Cap’s relationship with Natasha and Bucky is involved.  Much like these, Star War’s cannon is a complete, nightmarish, confusing, tangled, illogical mess. And it has been since 1984, as Caravan of Courage proves. It was never consistent and well planned.

And that’s okay.

I used to care about plot holes. I used to care about which works were cannon in Star Wars lore. I’m over that now. I’m happy to imagine the books, films and games not as a blow-by-blow historical account of a galaxy far far away, but as campfire stories from within this fun, imaginative world that we’re all invited to listen to. Stories that are in-universe myth and folklore, that we can all snuggle up and listen to while drinking highly alcoholic rum and remembering better times, knowing that wherever the future throws at us, no matter how the world goes to hell around us, we’ll still have the memories, and the ability to make our own new stories in the wonderful Star Wars world we all share.

And that’s okay. No, more than that: that’s beautiful.

Also Star Wars is completely unambiguous on the fact we’re allowed to kill fascists no matter how many times they keep coming back with a new logo, so that’s timely I guess.

So, there’s my hot take two-years after everyone else stopped caring about this stuff, as per bloody usual. Tell me why I’m wrong below, and does anyone else have any truly awful spin-off shows that they kind of have a nostalgic soft spot for?

[wolfhowlingdragonflyingsirensong]

spoilers

Since I recently played Life is Strange, which whoah, is totally an experience that I recommend to everyone, I’ve come to appreciate how well the game handles choices. It’s interesting how choices can seem meaningless good acts, like helping Alyssa avoid being hit, translates to her trusting Max enough for Max to save her. But, the game also points out how we can’t control consequences, since good deeds are done with nothing but good intentions can have fatal consequences, such as warning Victoria (and her believing you) leads to her murder, or the biggest good deed of them all, saving Chloe, leads to a storm that (can) kill lots of people. And ultimately, what’s cool is that every choice is canon, since Max it’s not a blank slate, meaning every choice the player makes is something Max considered. What do I mean with Max not being a blank slate? I mean regardless of your choices, Max likes waffles AND bacon and eggs. This is a minor example, but it serves for many things. Max can comfort Victoria or not, and later when they talk at the party regardless of your choice, Max at first is pretty angry, so she’s completely capable of standing up for herself and others. Max loves Chloe regardless of the player's feelings towards her. Max can be pretty uncaring or a literal angel, by Kate. And all of this is canon because even nice people contemplate not being nice all the time, even if it’s only a thought. This brings me to the ships topics. First of all, I’m glad that this game has non-ambiguous, non-sexualized, soft wlw romance (actually two counting BTS!) without the canon protagonist being turned evil or something, and I think that’s incredibly important. If the game had only Chloe as a love interest, I would totally get it and have no problem,  because the game is pretty much focused on their bond. Not that it matters to those who do, I personally don't ship it because I self-project (and I totally recognize it) on friendships I had in my youth that were a bit like Chloe and Max's friendship in the first episodes, and they were toxic. Don't get me wrong, I loved my friends and they were (are) good people. I like Chloe a lot, and there's no denying that there are strong feelings on Max's part for Chloe that are romantic, and it's up to the player to determine if Max is going to pursue Chloe. Denying it means that is both not reading Max's diary and erasing her sexuality. I write this because I don't want to seem like I don't ship them because I like Grahamfield, it's not that, I could very well be into both, and I think Chloe develops so much at the end of episode 5 that, while before I thought she was only in love with Rachel, at that point is totally understandable for me. If you ship Pricefield then that's awesome! You have all the canon content to back you up and a beautiful story of love with the childhood friends-to-lovers trope, can't get much better. Plus, the whole game is about their bond. It's incredibly well developed at the end mostly when you see Chloe growing out of her initial angry phase, and maturing in a beautiful way. So, shipping Grahamfield in this fandom sometimes feels like hey, you are a giant dick. I don't like hate on any ship or character (especially dunking on Chloe, because she's a representation of how trauma is not nice while actually being cool and kind, as well as being one of the few wlw canon protagonists), because both choices are completely canon, it's entirely up to the player. Again, if Chloe was the only canon love interest then that would be totally cool. Buuuut Max can choose to go on a date with Warren, write on his slate that he is cute, raise his grade (which can be done as a friendship thing only), help him in his experiment, kiss him, and if she does, she writes in his diary "I wanted one kiss from a boy I cared about", that to me, reads as having a canon interest in him too. And since Max is bisexual from what I understand, erasing that part doesn't sit well with me. Both Chloe and Warren have flaws, which hey is what happens with characters. Can you imagine having perfect characters? That would be so boring. He is a realistic 16-year-old boy to Max's 18 and Chloe's 19 years. He is extremely awkward, dorky, a little cringy, a boy with a harmless boy with a crush and that's normal at that age. He's helpful almost to a fault, and while some argue that's because he feels entitled, let me tell you, no niceGuy I've ever met has been so helpful if you don't give in, they don't back out after someone lets them down nicely, and he states his interest in Max clearly, and niceGuys don't tend to do that because they like to pine away and be angry that a girl didn't read his mind and magically fell in love with him. He believes Max from the get-go and helps her all the time, regardless of his feelings, which is like, basic decency, so if you want to call him a piece of shit I think that's going a little too far. If you want to take the words of others, Kate says he's a smart and silly cutie-pie with a good heart, suggests they take him with them to their tea-shop tour of Portland after everything and supports their date (besides them being friends, he brings her homework and is shown worried about her). I don't remember that part well, but I think Alyssa and Dana also support Grahamfield (and Brooke is very jealous!) so I think if he was an asshole they wouldn't be so supportive and Brooke wouldn't be into him, or Stella in another reality. My only point is that hey if you don't like him that's fine, but to call him a pervert or entitled or assholery is kinda uncalled for, to be honest, and using the nightmare sequence, in which EVERYONE is out of character (except Jeffershit) and shown being assholes, as a canon that he is bad seems to me like going out of your way. It's a nightmare for a reason, do you really think Kate would have said those things to Max if you save her? She's incredibly grateful. Or do you think Chloe would have done those things??? She would NEVER. Then why is Warren being treated as someone who would do those things for a nightmare? I don't get it. There are two myths regarding him: that he spies on Max and that he photoshopped a photo with them. First one, you can verify with mods that he can't see SHIT, he is merely waiting for her outside. Second, the photo is developed, not photoshopped, Max doesn't say hey we never took that photo, she merely is surprised he kept it. Now, he's a bit pushy when it comes to the drive-in (he acknowledges he's a pain in the booty), says like a stupid joke (a 16-year-old making stupid jokes, what a crime), and has that photo, which for some is crossing boundaries, and hey, that's fine. I, personally, just think a 16-year-old having a photo with his friend and crush is not creepy or bad. So, now that I'm over the ship discourse, which I hate but had to write to explain, I'm so glad this game brought so many interesting characters. My only complaint is that it felt a little too short when it came to other characters, I guess it's because the literal theme of the game is about abandoning youth and growing up as well, so that's because it's very focused on Chloe and Max's relationship, besides the romance. I adore Kate! I’m so happy we were able to save her, it was seriously one of the best moments I’ve ever seen in a game, I would have liked to see her future children’s book with Max’s photos, their tea sessions, and her coming back to school. I would love to have seen more of Stella, (a POC I think) that according to her words, faced an abusive home and poverty to end up studying in a prestigious school like Blackwell, busting her ass to work and yet being super cool and kind! I would have loved to see more of Daniel, how he faced bullying, how his home life is, his budding romance with Brooke, his future drawings. I would have loved to see more of Dana! How she dealt with abortion, a heavy topic, and yet she's super happy, nice, and in a loving relationship apparently. I would have liked to see more of Juliet's reporting skills, I feel like she could have been more important to the plot, or at least more exposés on bullying and the Prescotts. I would have loved to see more of Alyssa, what she likes, her relationships, etc. I would have loved to see more of Taylor! How her mom was doing, what steps was she going to take in not falling with the Vortex Club bullshit, her love for fashion, like Courtney. We didn't get to know Courtney at all I feel and I would have liked to! I would have liked to see more of Victoria, her insecurities, her relationship with her parents, her inner thoughts (she's totally bi too I bet), even her friendship with Nathan seemed deeper. I would have liked to see more of cool hipster Evan, or good skater boy Luke. In short, I would have LOVED to have them all hanging more with Max. The ending, oh man, what an ending. It's incredibly hard, and I hate that saving Arcadia Bay seems to go into "bury your gays" trope, because if there was a way to save them both I would. The writing is very powerful, ending the way it began. This leads me to my initial topic, choices. I love that the game gives us choices, and considering there are other alternative realities, maybe both choices are canon in different universes. If I was in Chloe's shoes I couldn't choose to sacrifice my mom, and Joyce dies if Chloe is saved, as well as many other innocents, so I can't choose that ending, I just can't (and I understand that's totally personal for everyone). A really tough choice, at least for me, and hey, if it wasn't specified that practically everyone died, I would have saved Chloe no questions asked. I do love, however, how Chloe matures so much in the course of 5 days and her bond with Max. She sacrifices for Arcadia Bay, and a lot of it is because of Max, because she doesn't want her to make that choice. So now if you excuse me, I'm still playing the funeral scene in my mind and the bathroom scene (totally broken) and had to write this as cathartic, so feel free to disagree with me or whatever you prefer, each one of us experiences a different game because of our different experiences in life. Next step: BTS and LIS2 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9uy4V8SvPk

[rae-g]

Dire Need of a Change: Spring 6 - Curiouser and Curiouser

I’m never going to get used to waking up this early, am I? You spent the first part of the morning as you normally do; rinsing off in the shower, finding something easy to eat, getting dressed. As you begin lacing up your boots, you hear a knock at your door. You quickly glance over to your door, wondering who would dare to have the audacity to knock on your door at any point during the day, much less at 6am. You wait a few moments, hoping it was just your imagination, but another round of -knock- -knock- -knock- ruined that fantasy.

Standing up, you make your way to the door and open it to find a short, portly woman standing before you. She wore a large cinnamon-colored braid in her hair, and an outfit of red and green.

“Uh… Hi?” You look at the woman, confused.

“Hello!” She smiled, and her eyes bright.

MEW

You looked down, spotting a small orange cat in her arms. You looked back up at the woman and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the new farmer, right? I’m Marnie. I live at the ranch just south of your farm.”

“Uh, yeah. Hi, nice to meet you.” You continue to stand in the doorway, each moment becoming more and more bizarre.

Marine nervously chuckled, a soft and warm laugh coming from someone. “Well, I was out foraging in the clearing next to my ranch, and I found this,” she looked down at the cat, then back up at you, “sitting outside the entrance to your farm! I think it’s a stray… poor thing.”

“Oh.” You look back down at the cat, and carefully put out your hand, allowing it to sniff you. The cat sniffed your fingers for a few moments, then headbutted your hand. You smiled and started scratching it’s head.

“Well, if it isn’t too much to ask… Don’t you think this farm could use a good barn cat? I know we don’t really know each other, but it does seem to like you, and I’d hate for this little friend to be all alone.”

You look down at the little furry friend who has already begun purring. You gave a small smile and nodded. “Well… I don’t currently have a barn… But, it would be nice to have someone to watch TV with.”

Marnie’s face beamed as she carefully set down the cat. “How wonderful! I’m sure it’ll be so happy here.” She smiled softly, “You know about the upcoming Egg Festival, right?”

You kneeled and continued petting your small new friend. You looked up at Marine, “I don’t, actually.”

Marine grinned. “Well, it’s something we do every spring. I’m not sure if you currently have any chickens, but even if you don’t, we’d love for you to come. The whole town joins in and we have so many different dishes that people make. My nephew works hard all year prepping the chickens for the festival, and it’s always so much fun.”

You stand back up and brush your knees off. “Well, I think that could be fun. I’ll have to think about it. I’m not much of a cook, but it’s hard to say no to free food.”

Marnie beamed once more. “Well, I have to get back to the ranch before the shop opens. If you’re ever looking for animal care, please feel free to swing by!”

The two of you shook hands, and Marnie made her way towards the town. You looked down at your new responsibility and smirked. “Well… guess I’ll have to pick up some cat food for you later.”

----------

You spent most of the day continuing the monumental task of de-weeding your farm. There were still boulders, trees, rocks, and branches littered everywhere, but at least you were able to clear out a little more land. You began to think about what Marine had said. Chickens… Hmmm…You hadn’t even thought about having animals on your farm. The only buildings that seemed to stand the test of time at all were the main cabin, and the green house, but even those were in extremely rough shape.

You crossed your arms as you looked at everything. It was all going to be such a project. You shoulders slumped as every glance just added a new project to the list. I need to repair the green house. Clear out more trees and boulders. Get the oven working, and probably expand the house. Plus, if I want any buildings put up...You sighed. It was like a never-ending list.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you picked up your watering can and filled it up. You made your way over to your plants. The potatoes and beans were growing nicely, but it was the flash of yellow that truly caught your eyes. You bent down and moved some dirt, and gently tugged on the stem of the parsnip. It came up easily. Your eyes lit up as you stared at the little vegetable. A little on the small side, but it was definitely a parsnip. After dunking it in the watering can, you took a small bite.

“Oh! It’s sweet!” You took a few more bites, and before you knew it the entire vegetable was gone. You savored the taste of the fresh vegetable in your mouth. It was as if someone had sprinkled a carrot with sugar. You looked at the rest of the row and saw more flashes of yellow. “I… I have my first harvest.”

You smiled and began pulling up the small vegetables, inspecting each carefully before moving on. At the end, you had about nine. After watering the rest of your crops, you brought the parsnips inside and began rinsing them off. You picked out the best of the batch and looked around for a small basket or box. Grabbing one of the cardboard Joja boxes from your move, you placed them carefully inside and made your way towards Pierre’s.

----------

*ding*

The little shop bell alerted Pierre to your presence. He turned around and looked at you, “Ah! My favorite farmer. How can I help you out today?”

You walked up to the counter and smiled. “Yeah. I. Uh. Have some crops to sell?”

Pierre grinned, “Wonderful! Show me what you have!”

You placed the box on the ground and pulled out five freshly washed Parsnips. “It’s not much…”

“It’s fantastic! I mean, they are a little on the small side, but they look and smell delicious. Let me do some calculations and see what I can offer.”

After taking a few moments to talk shop, the two of you decided to swap your small harvest for some more seeds, but only after Pierre assured that you would be able to get at least a few more parsnip harvests this season. You placed the seeds in the box and smiled. It’s really happening. I grew vegetables and sold them. I’m really a farmer. The two of you eventually said your good-byes, but not before he told you all about the new rucksacks he would have arriving in the next few days.

----------

You spent the rest of the day getting your new seeds neatly sowed in two little rows, and finishing up some smaller tasks, before eventually making your way back into the house. Today would be game 4 of the Gridball season. The Tunnelers weren’t playing, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the game. You washed up and changed, then made your way over to the bar.

----------

As you made your way to your seat, you spotted a familiar looking blue jacket. You sat down and flagged over the bartender.

“Hey.”

“Hey back,” you said, giving a small smile.

“Didn’t see you yesterday.” Shane took a swig of his beer, keeping his eyes on the TV screen.

“Didn’t realize you’d miss me.” The waitress came over, and you ordered a hard cider.

Shane coughed slightly, and turned away. After a moment, he turned back to the screen, his body facing you slightly more than it was a moment ago. “I don’t know, missed is a very strong word.” He smirked, and continued sipping on his drink.

You raised your eyebrow and grinned. You turned your attention back to the Gridball game, sipping on your drink. “I sold my first batch of crops today.” You said, continuing to stare at the screen.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Not much. Just a few parsnips.”

“Ah.” He took another sip of his drink, also watching the screen. “Joja has me on overtime this week. The other stocker called out sick, so it’s just me.”

“Laaaaaaame.”

“Yeah. But it’s fine. I’m not going to complain about more beer money.”

You raise your drink towards him, “I can drink to that. That is one of the rough parts about being self-employed. No days off. I don’t work my ass off, I don’t get any money.”

The two of you continued to banter back and forth for the rest of the night, only half paying attention to the game. Mostly the conversion centered around work, Joja, and favorite drinks. Eventually the barkeep called for the last round of drinks. The two of you finished off one more round of beers before heading outside of the saloon.

Taking a few steps out of the door way, you stretched and looked up at the sky. Your eyes widened, and you took a shallow breath. Shane walked over to you, a nervous look on his face, “Everything okay?”

You continued to look up into the night sky, “Its.. its just been awhile since I’ve actually seen stars.”

Shane looked up, “Ah. I get it. I remember when I first moved out here. Hard to see the stars with all the light in the city.” You nodded, then looked over at him. You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm as you watched him gaze at the stars. Eventually he glanced over at you, then coughed into his hand. “Anyway. I shouldn’t keep you.” He glanced around for a moment, “you’ll… you planning on swinging by the saloon tomorrow night?”

You nodded. “Probably. Once I get done with all my chores.”

Shane nodded. “Well.. Until then, I suppose.” But instead of leaving, he seemed to linger for a few moments.

“I look forward to it.” You smiled.

Shane reached up and rubbed the back of his head, looking away. “Uh. Yeah. See ya.”

You watched as he walked off.

“Hmm.. Curious,” you mused to yourself, before heading back home.

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 126: OWLs

Frank landed as uncomfortably as ever, with no clue what he was fixing to crash into as he went sliding along the floor and his nose was a hair width away from entering a very odd looking object.

They were all surrounded by beautiful, dancing, diamond-sparkling lights. As his eyes became accustomed to the brilliant glare, he saw clocks gleaming from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking filled the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps. The source of the light was the towering crystal bell jar that stood right in front of him.

It appeared to be full of billowing, glittering wind, and even as he watched a tiny, jewel-bright egg rose in the jar, cracked open and a hummingbird emerged, which was carried to the very top, but as it fell on the draught its feathers became bedraggled and damp again, and by the time it had been borne back to the bottom of the jar it had been enclosed once more in its egg, and the loop continued.

Alice came up beside him and took his hand, helping him to his feet and guiding him carefully away. He did not protest, nobody spoke a word in the room.

The ticking was vaguely terrifying for some reason, the dark shadowed corners were of no comfort to anyone as the Marauders were just as lost in here as everyone else had been in the forest. Frank spotted the book leaning on a glass cabinet full of odd, miniature hourglass-looking necklaces.

"Don't touch!"

Frank startled and dropped his hand before he grabbed the book, only to look around and see it had been Pettigrew scolding Regulus Black. His fingers were still half-extended towards a coo-coo clock that was spinning 360 degrees in all directions for no good reason.

He dropped his hand, looking thoroughly chastised even as his eyes roved hungerly around, but Frank was a tad terrified to look at anything too long, the magic radiating from this place felt as powerful as the book he gingerly picked up as if new all over again. He realized why as he weighed it for a moment and truly felt the magic in the air, it all gave off the same sort of energy. Time magic.

"Nobody touch anything," Potter's voice agreed with absolute sternness. "Merlin knows what half this shite is, and I am not looking forward to being a dad so much I'll cart around one of you lot as an infant."

"The most sensitive thing I've ever heard you say," Lily told him.

Frank fought very hard not to laugh at the stunned look on his face as he went looking for his chapter. A collective groan went up from the present fifth-years, but he tried to tell them all, "look at it this way, it's almost cheating. You'll be getting some firsthand account of what to study, more than I ever got. Can't wait for Harry's seventh year for that."

Lily at least looked delighted at this point of view, but the Marauders still grumbled their distaste at having to hear a whole chapter over Harry's OWLs and moved even farther away.

It started with Ron still captivating attention over Gryffindor's win though, and Harry and Hermione weren't trying very hard to pull him back from that with news of Hagrid's 'small' giant of half-brother. Sirius had been in such a state he'd read right over a game victory and not even realized it. 'It's not like I care,' he kept reminding himself as he stalked off to the farthest corner. 'One less thing to worry about, they don't care about you anymore just like you wanted! No makeup required, problem solved!'

He was still staying well out of the way, leaning dangerously against a steaming purple cauldron. Merlin what he would give to go off somewhere with Remus and pretend this wasn't going on right now, but he wouldn't have dared even if they weren't in such a highly strange and potentially dangerous place. He needed to talk to James about why he kept doing that, he knew that now, though he and Remus hadn't exactly gotten to talking about it recently, and it had been Moony's idea to hide it in the first place.

James and Remus both came over slowly anyways, though he didn't notice until they were right in front of him, too busy glaring at absolutely nothing.

"I told you not to touch anything," Prongs sighed, frowning as he sat on the lip.

"You're touching the floor," Sirius shot back.

James made sure to look him dead in the eye as he drew his wand and tapped himself with it, and was now hovering a few inches above the ground. Sirius couldn't help it, he chuckled and got off, hands raised in surrender.

"I'm fine," he insisted as they kept frowning at him like he was mad enough to dunk his head in that thing, let alone actually mess with anything around here. "I don't care, honestly, good on Pete finally growing some and telling us to shut up."

Remus's mouth actually opened in surprise while James rolled his eyes in disagreement. Peter and Sirius obviously still needed to have a conversation they were avoiding, and he had no clue why Peter lost his temper when Sirius had tried!  At least Padfoot wasn't flying into a temper and starting a fight with them in retaliation. This new, passive, approach felt alien in comparison though. It was what they'd asked for, right?

Sirius really was trying though, rather than giving those two a piece of his mind about constantly wandering off and being annoyed with him for trying to join in, he forced himself instead to nod along and feel sympathy for Ron as he was let into the news of Grawp the giant. Some part of him even did mean it, he honestly respected Peter just a tad more now than he ever had before, finally standing up to anyone in his life. He just wished it hadn't been him, about Regulus!

Whatever his little brother's problem was before though, Peter seemed to have helped. He'd always been best at that, listening to them, just sitting patiently and hearing them out, giving practical advice that never felt too insulting for not getting there on your own. James had a tendency to just talk at you and refuse to relent until you laughed which helped soothe most of Sirius's problems, and Remus was great about giving space. Sirius...never helped with anyone's problems. He usually was the problem! He huffed miserably and ran a hand through his hair as he really felt the guilt dancing along his every thought and tried valiantly to push it all away and focus on the story.

Prongs began doing exactly that now as he saw this, going over in detail and ever increasing unrealistic proportions of each of Ron's spectacular saves they hadn't been privy to in hopes to get a laugh out of Sirius. He watched Remus wander off and give him his space, and tried to tell himself this was good, this was normal.

Alice was distracted from watching a handsome wristwatch spinning backwards by Frank's voice getting an uneasy tone for Griselda Marchbanks, an examiner, being mentioned, and didn't understand why until Neville explained his gran knew her.

She grimaced with distaste with more reason than ever and tried not to let the memory of that photo creep back across her mind at a time like this, instead turning to Lily and asking, "I would never, but I am curious, if we used one of those time-turners, think that would get us back to when we started?"

"I haven't the foggiest," Lily sadly said as she turned away from a sundial with the phases of the moon etched along the edges back to her. "You're right too, best we don't try, tampering with time magic is worrisome enough, let alone trying to mix it." She was eyeing that cauldron in the corner with heavy curiosity but refusing to allow herself to go investigate it; Potter and his friends were around.

Regulus was still drifting off by himself, hands firmly in his pockets now, but with a look of almost childlike wonderance for his surroundings. Peter watched bemusedly as he was also clearly still taking in every word of Harry's exams, the Charms one now being described in detail. He was surprised to see Remus disengaging from James and Sirius to come over, watching Regulus with a bizarre expression. He supposed, if you hadn't been paying attention to him, it was very far off from the usual stoic way he kept himself at most times.

Peter tried to tell himself Remus was the least likely to tell him off for how he'd dealt with Sirius, but he still couldn't help but get a bit defensive as that seemed exactly what he was about to do when he sidled up and scuffed his foot for a moment, building himself up to say something Peter wasn't sure he wanted to hear. "Regulus is going through something, and Sirius has shitty timing!" He tried to say calmly, but he was failing a bit by the end. "I notice you and James keep telling me to be patient with him! I wonder if you two are over there with the same old tosh to Sirius, oh he'll come around! Padfoot can't control his temper, let Peter whine it out!"

"Actually," Remus managed through gritted teeth, "he's been trying to work on that!"

"Oh," Peter said quietly in surprise, instantly mollified.

Remus breathed through his nose for a moment, unclenching his teeth so he could continue, "yeah, he's really trying Wormtail, but he's got it in his head you two don't want anything to do with him now."

"How's that my fault?" Peter tried not to snap back. "He ignores me unless he wants something, been doing that to Regulus his whole life! We're not all just here for his entertainment!" He wasn't quite shouting, but his voice still sounded sharper than he meant to.

"Just," Remus pressed his face into his hands, rubbing at his tired eyes before looking back at him in exhaustion. "Nobody wants a fight, right? Can't we all agree on that? He's trying Peter, I still hope you are too. And Regulus," he added after only a moment of thought as he watched him again.

"Yeah," he quietly agreed. "Regulus still cares what he thinks too," he added. He'd never come out and said it, but Peter could tell in the same way he still watched his big brother.

Remus sighed in relief that was at least a good start, now eyeing the gap between the lot and trying to figure out whether to call Sirius and James over here or get Peter to go over there, it was like a never ending tug of war with those two lately.

Regulus answered the problem for him, he'd circled the whole room by now and was right beside them without even seeming to realize it, nose dangerously close to the potion as he watched it bubble.

Sirius reached over and grabbed the back of his robes, pulling him back and tutting. Both of them moved over on instinct, but he'd already let go and said with only pure exasperation, "where's all this curiosity come from then?"

Regulus blushed rather than answer, he looked chastised when Sirius had only sounded curious himself for his brother's sporadic change in his usual tight-faced character.

Peter eagerly jumped in, "he's actually been asking me loads, that's a lot of what we've been talking about, he's quite curious about the world."

"Oh," Sirius looked genuinely impressed, he'd really never thought he'd even progressed past questioning his parents, let alone asking for more than they'd ever offered in their 'lessons.' What else had he missed?

They all almost missed whatever was going on with Umbridge and Hagrid, but quickly spun back to Frank as his voice began edging with concern.

"No," Lily started chanting under her breath in disbelief. "No, no, no, no!" Hagrid was the nicest person in that school, offering a friendly ear and a cup of tea to any students he came across on the grounds, like a lonely girl crying to herself in the shade of the Forest. How was it possible Umbridge could force him from the school like this?

Then McGonagall got involved, and she felt like screaming. She began backing away from Frank and shaking her head, trying not to even hear of this disaster, she heard the gasp and looked on instinct to see Potter with his wand in hand and a look of outrage on his face for their head of house being attacked like that. Alice caught her before she could back into that strange hourglass, and they held hands fighting back their own galloping fear for the state this school was in.

Professors Flitwick and Sprout, at least, were still trusted members of staff to turn to, but the slowly dwindling numbers had them fearing Umbridge would somehow manage to get rid of them before the exams even finished!

Frank found it hard to believe Harry was forced to just go off to his last exam like nothing had happened after that, he felt like the chapter should have ended with that kind of mess, what else could happen during Harry's exam? He shifted and muttered impatiently the whole way through the History of Magic questions, it was one of his better subjects and even he'd been grateful to drop it, he couldn't concentrate on a single thing Harry was forcing himself to recall in his sleep-addled mind.

Then Harry started dreaming again, except they were never just dreams, they never had been. No, Harry started seeing again, right into You-Know-Who's mind as he finally got past all the doors that had been blocking him all year, and into an entirely new room all together, one that terrifyingly sounded similar to this place. He read the next description as this place was bypassed with dread as Harry began to explore and Frank tried to convince himself not to throw the book away in fear Harry was about to come across a dead body, that they weren't headed to this cathedral-sized room and row ninety-seven next to find out whose fate would be gone.

You-Know-Who was right there, right on the other side of one of these doors. It wasn't some random bystander like Bode though, it was a member of the Order again. It was Sirius Black.

[bonecorn]

WAIT PLEASE INFODUMP ABOUT YOUR DERMESTIDS!

I’m going on 11 years of vulture stuff, way back before i knew it was a thing people did.

Here’s a quick pic of my room from several months ago. There’s more stuff now but my room is messy so no pics. This shows maybe 1/3 of my collection from this angle and I’ll show more if you want.

Charles the human is plaster, don’t fret. Everything else is real.

Infodump about my Cleaning Beetles below!

Uhh my colony! Quick info! Demestids are nature’s cleaning crew for dead animal matter. Usually when you think of decomposition you think of maggots, which are fly larvae. They’re fine with rotting or unhealthy flesh, and will sometimes infest living creatures with open wounds (fly strike.) Generally, they’re gross. They smell bad, they look bad, and they Sound bad. Have you ever sat next to a deer being munched on by thousands of maggots? It’s like the world’s worst serving of rice krispies. They DO have a place and many vultures like them and affectionately call them “disco rice.” I’m ok with them and find them valuable members of the ecosystem, but I don’t love them.

I LOVE dermestids. They’re a cute little black beetle species with adorable larvae. They’re larvae are small, dark, and fuzzy like caterpillars. They do not like to eat rotting flesh, and will never eat anything living. Dermestids prefer fresh deads or dried deads, and tend to move in after the maggots have come through. These ones will stay with a carcass until it’s bones are clean, pupating, adulting, mating, and laying the next generation in the same critter. I had a fox whose entire insides were replaced with empty pupa shells it was really cool and artistically inspiring! It’s a really beautiful process.

My colony! It’s a wild colony that I’ve had for a couple years. I got a raccoon with dermestids in it and put it in a cage in the woods, and it’s been going ever since. I keep them fed with a steady supply of critters, removing the old ones and cleaning them up. Whenever I transfer bones from the cage to water for further maceration, I pick off and shake out as many as I can, then I dunked the skull for a second, bring it up, and scoop off everyone who was inside and now needs to abandon ship. I know I have plenty left but I don’t like killing even the smallest living things, so I rescue them.

I love them so much. When you start fostering something you get very affectionate toward it and want to keep it healthy and happy. I will often pick up critters I don’t really want just because my colony hasn’t eaten lately and I want them to do well. I have SO many dried squirrel feet for this reason.

It’s very meditative, actually. They don’t smell bad, they just smell like dead leaves or a log turned over to see the air. Their food smells musty, like old mummies if you’ve ever smelled that. Sometimes I go out there every day just to sit and watch them. I leave a spray bottle out there full of water, because hydration is important, especially in the summer. So I’ll head out there, sit down and see how everybody’s doing. Sometimes I’ll turn over the deads or rearrange them to get the part I want processed into the heart of the colony. They like eating things that are covered, so some critters are partially skinned for access and they use the hide as shelter. The fastest way to get them to process something is to put it in the center of a couple deads and lay another dead on top of it.

When everything seems good and they’re doing ok, I just sit there and mist them with water. they LOVE IT!!!! It’s so exciting and endearing to see a few bugs resting on the surface of a dried dead, and then everyone comes out to party when the water comes out. They’ll hang out around droplets and you just watch them stick their little faces in and drink up. Everybody moves around and comes out to play and you can really see how many there are. I get the whole colony hydrated to give them water and to make the dried deads palatable again. It’s a little harder for them to eat jerky than to eat soft flesh, so keeping it hydrated helps them eat faster. This is especially important for deads that have been skinned first, as they dry out quickly. Demestids can still eat the dried stuff, but it takes them longer, and some may move on to greener pastures if they feel they’ve done all they can. They’re perfectly fine with waiting for rain and they don’t need my water to survive, but I find it really helps them thrive.

My colony is completely wild, and I don’t do anything to keep them with me. They are free to come and go through the forest cage. In nature, when they’re done with a dead the adults move on to find a new one and stop laying eggs, and the skeleton is left to nature to bury and have the bones spread around by scavengers or weather. Mine have a steady supply of food, so the adults choose to stay, lay their eggs, and raise generation after generation in my back yard. I help them along and I cherish them, but I don’t own them. Some people have captive colonies where they control the humidity, temperature, food source, and health of their dermestids, but I’m just fine with my wild ones.

Earlier this year, they slowed down a LOT. I looked closely and found that a whole bunch of mites had moved in and were crowding out my dermestids and crawling all over them. This is a huge problem for domestic colonies, but for me, it’s just nature. I stopped providing deads and now my colony has moved away to find better things, and I’ll let nature clear up the mites and wait for them to realize there’s nothing more for them to eat. Once they’re gone, I just need to put out a critter and restart my colony to bring it back to its full glory.

Nature is wonderful and I’m so privileged I get to be a part of it. You can spend hours out there just watching and listening, and learning what it has to tell you. I adore my little bugs, but I’m alright with nature running its course. They’re free to come and go as they like.

I have a forest for a backyard, but you can have a wild colony if you live in the city and just know somebody with a patch of woods, prairie, or really anything wild. As long as you can set up a cage a decent bit away from houses to reduce smell, all they need is a dead thing to get started. For best results, find something dead and kind of dry looking and it probably has demestids inside it. You can’t always count on them spontaneously moving in, but it’s worth a shot! You also don’t need to mist them as they can take care of themselves.

I just love them so much. They’re so good to me and I’m good to them back. They’re adorable and sometimes finding a newly hatched or newly shed baby makes me so proud I cry.

I love them!!!!!!!

[perfeggso]

till the sun’s seeing through my eyes (yumark)

hitting for six

Yuta and Mark are next-door neighbors who grew up together, joined at the hip until Yuta went off to college. Due to their four-year age gap, Mark’s freshman year at the same school marks the halfway point of an unprecedented amount of time apart. Yuta is sure he can handle it, until Mark’s arrival home for spring break makes him wonder if the fondness he has for his friend might be blooming quite literally into something stronger. It’s up to him to handle the consequences.

Chapter 1  |  Chapter 2  |  Masterlist 

Characters: Yuta x Mark + NCT ensemble, other SM (and non-SM (?)) idols tbd, character families 

Genres: heavy angst, fluff, Hanahaki!AU, small town!AU, slight Witchcraft/Magic!AU, College!AU

Warnings: blood and gore, mentions of death, disease, vomiting, college-typical alcohol use, swearing  

Rating: T

Length: 8.3k

Yuta twirled the stick of rock candy he’d picked up at the market around between his lips, enjoying how it felt rough on his tongue and filled his mouth with the flavor of unadulterated sugar.  He checked his phone – no new messages.  

He tapped the toe of his sneakers against the linoleum floor of Kun’s coffeeshop and drummed his hands against the seafoam counter before pulling the candy from his lips with a pop and dunking it in his glass of mint tea.  All around him, the clinking, hissing, and chatter of a well-liked café filled his ears, and the arousing scent of coffee steam kept him a fidgety kind of alert.  On second thought, replace “alert” with “distracted.”   

“Did you hear me, Yuta?” Sicheng was saying, sitting at the table nearest the espresso machine and picking at a mini egg custard tart.  Yuta had not heard him, that much was evident.  

Yuta sighed with some effort, then made a fake sorry face.  “No – no, I apologize, babe, I didn’t.”    

Sicheng rolled his eyes.  “Whatever, it wasn’t important.”  He took a large bite of his tart, pale, buttery crumbs affixing to his lips.  

“Neko latte!” Kun interrupted, setting a white coffee cup in front of Yuta, the frothed milk on top of it shaped like a stubby-tailed cat that wiggled as the cup moved.  Yuta had to restrain himself from jiggling its foam butt into oblivion.  Kun returned a moment later with a plate. “Aaaand, let’s see, one slice of orange poppy seed bread.”  He dropped his smiling customer service face momentarily as he leaned in towards Yuta. “I thought you said you could handle calling out the orders.  That was my condition for letting you behind the counter, wasn’t it?” 

Yuta shrugged, repeating the order at double Kun’s original volume and smirking when a customer instantly shot out of her seat to come collect it.  Yuta downed his tea, burning his throat, and stuck the melting candy back into his mouth as she made her way over, pushing the now-empty cup forward as an encouragement to leave a tip in it, which the poor girl did.  Kun snatched the sticky bill from the cup and shook it out, disapproval contorting his face as he voiced his disappointment with a simple “nope.” 

“But Kun, I watched her earlier and she didn’t leave a tip when she ordered,” Yuta protested, making himself laugh until it was threatening to become a cough.  Dammit.  He pulled in a shaky breath.  “I’m only trying to help.” 

Kun pointed to the seating area.  “Out.” 

Yuta sulked his way to the chair opposite Sicheng, noting on his way that it was still pouring not insignificantly outside.  Yuta had gotten off work early because of the rain; the indoor soccer field had been reserved weeks earlier for the high school team.  Instead, he’d taken his kids to Yukhei’s gym for a short workout and then sent them home, choosing to wile away the rest of his time waiting for Mark with his buddies over a warm beverage.  

“Has he responded yet?” Sicheng asked.  

“No,” Yuta pouted.  He’d sent Mark a text nearly twenty-five minutes ago saying he was ahead of schedule and to come meet him at Kun’s shop.  “Ugh, wait, I’m sorry.  What were you saying earlier?  Nothing you say is unimportant, friend.” 

Sicheng looked like he wanted to smack Yuta and hug him at the same time.  Yuta was used to this.  

“I was only teasing you for missing my speech last night because no one cut you off,” Sicheng clarified, wiping his hands against each other once he’d finished eating.    

The memory of heaving in his bathroom in an attempt to extract whatever was obstructing his airways hit Yuta like an unforeseen ocean wave.  He nodded slowly, schooling his face to pretend to be irritated rather than scared.  He didn’t want to lie to his friend, but not even he knew what the real issue was, and it would undoubtedly get sorted, so why worry people?  

Yuta made his face into the disappointment emoji.  “Mm-hm,” he said.  “Well since you can only process my suffering as it pertains to you, maybe you’ll cut me off next time you have something important to say.”  

Sicheng raised his eyebrows.  “Someone’s feeling bitchy today,” he observed.  “This is because your boyfriend’s not texting back, isn’t it?” 

Yuta scoffed.  “Boyfriend,” he huffed in disbelief, but the word stirred a sickened feeling inside him.  He chose to ignore that.  “Yeah, it is,” he teased, “you jealous?” 

Sicheng shook his head.  “Not at all,” he said.  “It means you’ll let me be for a couple weeks.” 

Yuta laughed, his body once again nearly giving into coughing.  Like, choking on one’s dinner and needing the Heimlich kind of coughing.  Instead of letting that happen and calling attention to himself, he doused his throat in the contents of a glass of water.  

His breathing had been a bit better since he’d spoken with his mother that morning, but the problem wasn’t gone, and the raw coughing fits that started the day before were only growing more frequent.  A particularly violent one had gripped him during practice, scaring some of his kids enough that he’d run away to the bathroom to get it under control.  Thankfully, Yukhei had been in another room.  

*

Yuta came from a tradition of hedge witches, of which his mother was a shining example.  She ran an apothecary in town with his father; handling the medicine and potions side of it while he handled the business angle.  She was a skilled potion-maker and healer, and she had a keen sense of spiritual effects on the physical.  She was often able to gain insights that seemed so spot-on that Yuta had no choice but to believe whatever she told him to do.  

She’d encouraged her children to utilize tarot cards from an early age and endeavored ever since to teach them everything she knew.  Now and then, having someone so spiritually inclined as a parent could be burdensome, but it was times like these – when Yuta felt something strange and unwelcome stirring in him – that he felt he was lucky.  

When Yuta had gone to the main house that morning, he found his mother in the kitchen, making banana pancakes as his little sister looked over her advanced biology homework.  The high school still had a week left before spring break.  

“Hi Haruna,” Yuta greeted, shoving her face softly into her papers and receiving a well-earned glare.  

“Good morning, dingus.  You really shouldn’t be partying when you have work in the morning.” 

Haruna was a senior, less than a year younger than Mark (a fact which regularly escaped Yuta’s mind) and possessed an attitude problem – though one quite different from Yuta’s.  That morning, she wore a long, eggplant-purple frock dress with lots of heavy eyeliner and her hair in a helmet-like bob.  She might have been sartorially challenged and a bit of a bitch in Yuta’s view, but she was also his adorable little sister, and a veritable genius, he had to admit.  

Yuta went to the fridge and pulled out an apricot yogurt.  “I assure you I can handle myself,” he said, grabbing one of a collection of mismatched spoons and plopping it into his breakfast.  “The last thing I need is a seventeen-year-old lecturing me on alcohol.”  

Haruna tried to flick some of the syrup on her fork into her brother’s hair but missed.  “I can’t wait until Momoka comes home to visit,” she grumbled.  “Maybe you’ll listen to her.”   

Yuta’s mother gave her youngest and middle child a heavy look of disapproval as she flipped a pancake with a wet, resounding plop.  The action itself communicated as much authority as any scolding words could have.  Yuta just smiled sweetly, digging into his yogurt.  

“Yuta, dear,” she began, “can I interest you in some pancakes?” 

Yuta shook his head, feeling a little guilty, but he was rarely very hungry in the mornings.  “No, this is enough for me,” he said.  His mother smiled.  It was the same smile Haruna would flash when she was about to tease him.  

“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come all the way over here just to bother your studious sister and refuse my cooking, so there has to be something else, hm?  I’m right, aren’t I?” 

Yuta sighed.  As usual, she was indeed correct.  “As a matter of fact, there is something bothering me.” 

His mother listened attentively as he recounted the last day’s events: the asthma scare, trying to use the potion she’d taught him with a prayer, his concern over the reading he’d had that morning.  All the while, she finished shaping her stack of pancakes and leaned on her elbows, steam rising from the food and swirling in front of her paisley house dress, fluffy hair, purple kerchief, and concerned face.   

“It sounds to me like you’re having anxiety about change,” she offered once he’d finished.  “You always tend to have flare-ups during transition periods.” 

“Yeah,” Haruna cut in, spearing a chunk of pancake and narrowly escaping dropping it on her school papers, “remember when you were a freshman and you had a panic attack before coming home for winter break?  You said you could hardly breathe all night and that you didn’t think you wanted to come back.” 

Haruna seemed a little too casual with that difficult memory for Yuta’s liking, although she was right that he hadn’t forgotten.  He pinched his eyebrows together.  

“Is this a transition period though?” he asked.  Everything for him was more or less the same as it had been all year.  

His mother nodded.  “I’d say so.  Some of your younger friends are coming home, and Taeil will be going back to the city soon.  There are a lot of moving pieces in your life at the moment, dear.  I don’t think it's at all strange that you’re feeling off and maybe hiding some things from yourself.” 

“Alternately,” quipped Haruna as their mother went to fetch a cloudy, pastel purple concoction she had sitting in a beaker by the window, “you’re just a drama queen.” 

Yuta started.  “Wanna get your butt kicked by a college athlete?” he threatened.  Haruna stuck her tongue out at him. 

“You mean former intramural college athlete?” 

“That’s enough!” 

Yuta and Haruna both turned to face their mother.  She looked like her hair would be suspended in exasperation if she were in a Ghibli Movie.  Yuta knew that meant it was time to Shut Up.  Oops.  

She sighed, running her hands over the lip of the beaker in her hand and muttering to herself to calm down.  Then, she slid it forward to her son.  

“Bring this to work with you, Yuta,” she advised, voice still stern.  “I made it fresh this morning for the shop, but I think you could use it.  It has lavender, mint, chamomile, soy oil, salts, and I’ve charged it with moon water.  It’s something I’ve been messing around with for dealing with anxiety and stress during liminal periods in life.”  Yuta nodded, listening attentively and twirling the little vial in between his fingers.  She went on.  “Then later whenever you have time, I want you to sit alone with your confusion for a little while.  I think that might give you more insight into what is driving this spiritually and subconsciously.  Try not to smother it, whatever it is.”  

Of course his mom’s advice was essentially “meditate.” Why had he even bothered to ask? He nodded one more time, subdued, and dropped the vial of pale liquid into his pocket.  He would put it into a water bottle and bring it along.  

Yuta finished his yogurt and chucked the container into the recycling.  “Thank you, Mom,” he said, snagging a pancake on his way out of the kitchen just to win a little more of her favor.  “And have a good day, Haruna.” 

“You too, dingus.” 

“Tell me if you’re feeling better tonight!” his mother called after him, finishing off with a mild threat: “And I’ll be able to tell if you didn’t follow my directions!” 

*

Yuta sighed for what felt like the eightieth time all day, watching the café’s glass door from over Sicheng’s shoulder for any signs of Mark.  He didn’t know how to summon people or things, but he half-imagined that he did, concentrating so hard on the door that it was making his eyes cross.  And in a matter of seconds, it worked (or, at least, the universe gave the illusion of it working).  

Mark rushed into the coffeeshop, looking harried and tugging a cumbersome guitar case along with him which he tried desperately to protect with a too-small umbrella.  The image put Yuta at attention, smiling.  

“I’m so sorry!” Mark spluttered as he rushed through the door.  “I was practicing, and I didn’t check my phone!” 

“Whoa there,” Kun warned from behind the counter.  “This does not need to be advertised to my entire clientele.” 

Mark shook out his umbrella and shoved it into the holder in the entryway, checking with Yuta that they planned on staying for at least a little while and apologizing sheepishly to Kun.  

He sat down at the table with Yuta and Sicheng as Yuta grinned at him.  

“Don’t be sorry, Markie-boy,” Yuta said, poking Mark in the side and making him almost giggle his way out of his chair.  As the chair tipped and then slingshotted violently back to its starting position from Mark regaining his balance, it clattered so loudly that it attracted more concerned looks than Mark had when he’d busted through the door.  Yuta hardly seemed to register this as he gushed about how devoted his friend was to his craft that he would haul his equipment through a rainstorm.  Kun rolled his eyes and huffed in defeat at yet another disruption. 

“Mark, the usual?” he asked, and Mark nodded after nervously confirming Yuta didn’t have other plans for them to go eat somewhere.  

Only then did he allow himself to settle in, peeling off his damp jacket and balancing his guitar case against the side of his chair.  

“Did you carry that all the way here?” Sicheng asked, and Yuta shot him an obvious look.  

“Of course he did,” he replied for his friend, and Sicheng glared at him.  “The kid can’t drive, after all.  Just like you.” 

Mark nodded in confirmation as Kun set a mug of hot chocolate and a cream cheese bagel in front of him.  “I love being referred to as ‘the kid’ as if I’m not present,” he snarked.  “Also, thanks, Kun.” 

“Sure thing.” 

Yuta crunched absently at the end of his rock candy.  “Aw, don’t go trying to make me feel bad when you forced me to wait for thirty-five minutes and didn’t even tell me you were on your way.  It’s like you want to keep me in constant suspense with your little surprises.”  Mark scowled, but his mouth was too stuffed with bagel to form a retort, so Yuta went on.  “Anyway, you got a guitar in there?” 

Mark swallowed.  “What do you think?” 

“I think we’re just impressed you lugged it all the way here,” Sicheng clarified, trying to clear the air of Yuta’s usual bitchiness.  “Surely, you brought it for a reason.” 

Mark clapped his hands against each other to rid them of crumbs, body going taut with excitement.  

“Actually yes!” he mouthed around his food.  “I did have a reason.  I wanted to show off what I’ve been practicing!”

“Oooooh!” Yuta buzzed, applauding preemptively at hyper-speed.  “You might want to check with the stickler in charge though,” he warned, stage whispering and indicating towards Kun.  The subject of the jest frowned at his table of friends.  

“I can hear you, Yuta,” he said, “and it’s fine.  Just give me a minute to turn the speakers off.” 

Soon enough, Mark had extracted his guitar from its case and had it over his knee, strumming experimentally to warm up and drawing the attention of most of the customers behind him.

“Don’t look now, Mark,” Sicheng began.  “But it looks like you’ve roped yourself into a little concert.”

“A little what now?” he asked, immediately going against the advice he’d just received and turning around to meet the gazes of at least fifteen people he only marginally knew.  “Oh, uh, okay.  This is fine.” 

Yuta smiled to himself as he watched his friend adjust his fingers over the metal strings and clear his throat, red face betraying that he might not, in fact, be fine.

Pretty soon though, he was finger-picking his way through the intro to Frank Ocean’s “Cayendo.”  Once Mark started singing, Yuta found himself lulled into an admiring trance at the smooth sweetness of Mark’s voice.  Mark was usually shy about singing solo, but he’d been working on it and Yuta loved that he had gained some confidence.  The fact that the song was in a language Yuta couldn’t understand served even further to pull him under its calm spell.  

He pretended to swoon at the little performance, rolling his eyes around and fanning himself theatrically.  “Ooh, Markie, take me now,” he joked, just loud enough for his table to hear and no one else.  Mark’s ears went red and he struggled to sing through a giggle.  

Right in the middle of the song though, Mark sang a stanza that Yuta did understand.  It ended with a melancholy plea of love:

When I still really, really love you, like I do

If you won't, then I will

If you can't, then I will

Is it love to keep it from you?

It was such a sad sentiment.  Yuta thought that if he were a more sentimental person, and under different circumstances, he would have started to cry.  Though, maybe he wasn’t as unsentimental as he thought he was… 

Mark transitioned back to singing in Spanish and Yuta took the moment to lose himself less in his friend’s voice and more in the space around them: the chatter of impressed coffee-sippers, the whirring of the espresso machine, the soft and appreciative expressions on his friends’ faces.  It was almost as sweet as the leftover sugar which coated the inside of his mouth – almost sweet enough for him to forget that some kind of repression within him was causing him vascular stress.  Almost; almost.  

Mark plucked the last note of the song and the café broke into a pitter-patter of applause which echoed the pounding of rain outside, and in that moment, as if to remind him of the tenuousness of his almosts, Yuta found himself hurled into the most intense pain he’d felt in the last twenty-four hours.  

He bent himself over and started retching into a napkin.  It was the same sensation he’d gotten the night before at the party, when he’d locked himself in the bathroom and coughed himself raw into the white sink, trying to force something out that just wouldn’t budge.  He felt like he had a copper wire weaving through his muscles, and someone was sending shocks of electricity through it.

Sicheng and Mark stared at him in concern and Sicheng pushed a glass of water his way.  He choked out his thanks before downing it in one go, once again taking note of the clump of – something – which drifted back down along with the liquid.  By the time he had himself back under control, both his friends were posing some variation on the same ‘you okay?’ question.  

“Yeah, yeah,” he lied.  “Just aspirated some very sharp candy.” 

Sicheng winced.  “Ouch,” he said.  “At least you had the courtesy to wait until Mark was finished.” 

Yuta stuck his tongue out, but the way his friend went so casually back to teasing him actually made him feel a little better.  

“I know the Heimlich maneuver!” Mark said, a stupidly proud grin crossing his face as he set his guitar back into its case and puffed his chest out involuntarily.  “So I could have saved you if it came to that.” 

Yuta smiled weakly.  “That’s very reassuring, Mark.”

“NBD.”  Yuta groaned, the sharp pain from only moments ago leaving him just as quickly as it had come.  He cringed.  Had Mark really just said “NBD?” Whatever.  Mark continued.  

“Seriously though, what did you guys think?” 

“It was really good,” Sicheng said, “and I would say, a glowing testament to your four years of high school Spanish.”  

Mark snickered.  “What about you, Yutaaa?” 

“Well if you couldn’t tell by the way I reacted at the beginning, I loved it!  Really, like your voice just keeps getting better and better.”

Mark placed a hand over his heart, meaning to indicate that Yuta’s compliment had touched him.  

“Aren’t you not supposed to be using instruments though?” Sicheng chimed.  “I mean, considering you’re an a cappella person?”  

Mark rolled his eyes.  “Very funny,” he said.  “But thanks, guys.  I think I might play it live sometime on the Serotonin Hour.”  That was the name of the radio show Johnny had left to him upon graduation.  

“You know,” Yuta began, rapping his fingers against the table, “when Johnny willed his time slot to you, I don’t think he expected you’d use it for such self-serving purposes.”     

Mark rolled his eyes even farther into his head this time.  “It’s an hour where I impose my music taste on the small group of people who actually bother to tune in.  What could be more self-serving?” 

Yuta clicked his tongue.  Mark had a point.  

“Anyway,” said Mark, hopping to his feet, “what do you want to do, Yuta?” 

*** 

Since it was raining out, they decided they would have to stay mostly indoors, so they resolved to wander around the market hall until they came up with a more exciting activity, Yuta letting Mark store his guitar in the trunk of his car while they perused.  Sicheng was invited along too, but he had a dance class to run in half an hour and needed to review his lesson plan ahead of time, so it was just the two of them.   

Well, it was just the two of them until they got to the Jung family farmstand at the end of the long, warehouse-like building.  Jaehyun sat behind it, writing something into a notebook and looking so bored that his face was practically melting into the hand supporting it.   

“Oh, thank god,” he said when he saw his friends approaching.  “It’s been such a slow day I was ready to choke myself out just to have something to do.” 

“Ooh, kinky,” Yuta guffawed at his friend as Mark nodded slowly.  

“Nice to see you too, man,” Mark said.  

“Want anything?” 

Yuta and Mark surveyed their options: a selection of dairy products, meat, and eggs in a set of coolers, and a table covered in artichokes, celery, pears, asparagus, broccoli, brussels sprouts, cabbages, and a veritable rainbow of root vegetables.  As usual, the Jung family farm’s output looked delicious.  Maybe Yuta would get something for his parents to put in tonight’s dinner.  He grabbed a bundle of radishes by the leaves and shoved them at his friend with a grin.  

Mark, on the other hand, knew immediately what he would go for.  

“And, uh, can I get a banana milk?” 

Jaehyun nodded as Yuta gave his younger friend his best side-eye.  

“You just drank a giant hot chocolate.  Haven’t you had enough dairy for one day?” 

Mark pouted, fishing for his wallet, and Yuta couldn’t help but smile at the way Mark’s eyes looked like shiny tea saucers.  He could be devilishly cute sometimes.  Cute enough to make Yuta want to buy shit for him, which he did, paying for the radishes and the milk before Mark even had the opportunity to complain.  

“Drink up!”

Mark glared.  “Fine.  I’ll just sneak-buy you something next time.” 

Yuta wobbled his head like an anime heroine as he spoke.  “Oh, so I’ll get a next time?  Man, this date is going so well!” he said, and Mark’s ears flushed for the second time in thirty minutes.  A niggling voice in the back of Yuta’s head told him he wanted to see Mark like that more often.  He brushed that idea away, not quite knowing how to process it.    

“Whatever,” Mark mumbled as Jaehyun looked on in his usual casual detachment.  Yuta turned his attention back to him.  

“By the way, Jae, where are your parents?  Can’t they come relieve you of your existential dread?” 

Jaehyun blew a puff of air at his bangs.  “I wish,” he responded.  “They’re out of town for the weekend though, so I’m left to suffer alone.  Oh – which reminds me!  Can you go check on Sugarfoot and Lacey for me?  They probably need their water troughs refilled right about now.  And besides, I’m sure they miss Mark.” 

Yuta and Mark agreed easily.  Everyone loved those horses, even if Sugarfoot could be a pain in the ass.  When Yuta was a teenager, she had apparently decided he’d lived long enough, because she tried to buck him off until Yuta was pretty sure he’d suffered acute whiplash.  Besides Jaehyun, Johnny was the only person she seemed to tolerate (and tolerate simply meant she was a bitch to him rather than straight-up murderous), but alas, Johnny wasn’t around.  

“Perfect,” Jaehyun said.  “I’d do it myself, but everyone here knows my parents and they’d definitely somehow manage to tell them I’d abandoned my post.  You know where the keys to the stable are and everything, right?” 

“Yup!” 

And with that, Yuta and Mark left Jaehyun to return to pondering auto-asphyxiation. 

It had stopped raining outside, and the sky was in the process of clearing from a mournful grey to a clear periwinkle, like a windshield-wiper was slowly swiping across it to rid it of clouds.  They ran into Taeil on the way to Yuta’s car, in the middle of walking five dogs of varying sizes and breeds.   

Naturally, Mark became immediately preoccupied by the tangle of fur attached tenuously to Taeil’s wrist by a set of leashes.  The cute scene made Yuta’s chest go tight with fondness.   

Yuta told Taeil they’d missed him at the party the night before as Mark rolled around on the wet ground, getting his face smothered by a particularly friendly Chow Chow and laughing like his lungs were about to burst out of his chest.    

“I know, I’m sorry!” Taeil said, trying not to let himself get tugged around.  “It was just last minute and I’d already been roped into cooking for my family, and we had friends over – bad timing.” 

Yuta waved him off.  “Don’t worry, I’ll only hold it against you forever.  But when do you go back to the city?” 

“Next week,” Taeil replied, leaning down awkwardly to save Mark from five rough tongues.  Taeil didn’t have a dog himself (although he did have a goose in his backyard, a fact which Yuta was never not perplexed by) but his family owned the local pet shop and he always had dog-walker duty when he was home.  It was also how he made money when he was in high school.  “We should definitely get together before I go back though!” Taeil continued.  “You guys can help me make this pasta dish I’ve been wanting to try.  Sound good Mark?” 

Mark got up, brushing the wet dirt off his backside.  “What?  Oh yeah, for sure!  I’m always down to eat – and to see you, Taeil.  I didn’t forget about you.” 

Taeil looked dryly at his younger friend. “Yeah, of course.  But listen, Mark, it’s really good luck we’re home at the same time.  I need you to tell me all about how the Aca-Fellas are doing.”  Mark nodded shyly.  Taeil had been the star of the a cappella group at his college, so he’d had plenty of run-ins with the Fellas at competitions.  His own superiority at singing was something it was at times difficult to get him to shut up about.  Taeil continued:

“Anyway, I should be going.  These guys are getting squirrely, and I don’t want them to do their business right here.  I’ll see you two around, I guess.  Enjoy the rest of your date!”

Hey, Yuta thought, that’s my joke.  Somehow it made him feel weird to hear someone else use it.  

*** 

They were at Jaehyun’s stables after a short drive, and they found the keys easily.  Mark scratched lovingly at Lacey’s chin as Yuta filled the troughs with water.  Then, they decided it was as good a time as any to see if Johnny was free to FaceTime.  He was.  

“Heyoooo,” Johnny greeted once his pixelated face flashed onto Yuta’s phone.  Yuta laughed.  His friend looked happy and healthy.  “Oh what? You have Mark with you?  Sweet!” 

They caught up on Johnny’s life for a few minutes; he was having a great time on his own, but he missed everyone and couldn’t wait to come home in the summer.  

“Hurry home,” Yuta joked, getting up from the bail of hay he’d been sitting on because Sugarfoot was cribbing on the door to her stable.  “I think Taeyong is wilting without you here.” 

Johnny chuckled indulgently.  “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”  He gasped and his image froze in the exaggerated reaction face he’d pulled, making Mark squeak with laughter.  “Is that my favorite girlie?” came his crackling voice.  

Yuta held the phone up to Sugarfoot, nudging her head a bit to get her to detach her teeth from the wood.  “Sure is.” 

Johnny asked if Jaehyun was there, so Yuta informed him on their friend’s predicament.  Then Johnny addressed Mark, telling him he should try braiding Sugarfoot’s dark mane – he’d found she had come to enjoy it.  Mark, being the least experienced with Jaehyun’s bitch of a mare, immediately fell for it and tried, causing Sugarfoot to squeal and jerk her neck away from his touch.  He fell back on his butt in surprise and Johnny cackled through Yuta’s phone speaker.  

“Aw, I see college hasn’t made you less gullible, Markie-boy.” 

“It most certainly has not,” Yuta confirmed, and Mark attempted a glare, but it only ended up looking like what he’d done when Johnny tried to teach him how to flirt that one time.  

Johnny continued.  “Anyway, Mark how are you really?  I don’t care about this old hag; Yuta, give the phone to Mark.”

Yuta handed over the phone with a casual threat of murder.  

Mark was doing well.  Johnny asked if his a cappella group had let him rap yet.  Mark rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, leaning against the stable door right next to Lacey.  

“Naw, not yet,” he said.  “Just beatboxing for now.  Eventually...” 

Johnny shrugged.  “It’s okay.  When you’re a senior you can run the group and do whatever the hell you want.  And, when they see how good you are, that’ll really show ’em.” 

Yuta watched the conversation unfold, reveling in the warm feeling he got from watching some of his favorite people interact.  

“Are you doing the Serotonin Hour justice, by the way?” Johnny asked.  “Playing that good shit?” 

Mark fumbled around a response so Yuta cut in, yelling from off-screen.  “He’s great, Johnny!  Wish you were here to tune in because I think he might be surpassing you in quality already.” 

Yuta heard Johnny scoff as Mark looked embarrassed.  “Impossible!”  Yuta leaned in next to Mark and Johnny asked about his own parents.    

Yuta frowned.  “Can’t you just call them and ask how they’re doing?” 

“I did! I do!” Johnny said, exasperated.  “I wanted to hear it from a third party though, otherwise all they tell me is ‘we’re good, John, we’re good.  Everything’s just fine.’  Know what I mean?” 

Mark answered.  Mr. and Mrs. Seo were doing just as well as they let on to their son, as far as he could tell.  This seemed to satisfy him.    

Johnny had to go soon after this, so Yuta and Mark took the opportunity to get back in Yuta’s car and drive to his house, where brand new purple crocuses had pushed through the dirt in the front yard.    

Yuta led Mark straight to his loft when they arrived, happy to finally have some actual alone time with his friend.  He didn’t know where this territorial streak was coming from.  He usually did it as a joke – especially with Mark and Sicheng – but all of a sudden, he didn’t feel like he was joking anymore.  He shrugged it off mentally.  It probably had something to do with his repression, he figured, realizing he hadn’t followed all his mother’s instructions yet.  Oh well, the meditation could wait.  

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” he offered.  “We can hang out all day that way, until you’re absolutely fed up with me.” 

Mark giggled as they traipsed through the wet grass, passing the fresh crocuses.  

“Uh, yeah, that sounds good,” Mark agreed.  “I’ll text my parents and ask them.”

“I don’t think you’ll need to,” Yuta remarked, pointing straight ahead to where Mr. Lee stood in his driveway, getting ready to go out.  “Mr. Lee!”

Mark’s dad turned around, startled for a moment, before waving.  

“Your son is eating dinner over here!”  Yuta yelled.  “We’ll take good care of him!”

Mark laughed nervously at Yuta’s side as his dad consented.  Yuta had to admit that his life was a little emptier when Mark’s ridiculous giggle-fits weren’t a daily feature.  

Back in Yuta’s room, Mark hooked his phone up to Yuta’s Bluetooth speaker and played one of his most recent DJ set playlists while Yuta sat at his vanity and yanked a radish from the bunch he’d bought earlier from Jaehyun, biting off a chunk.  It tasted watery and sharp.

“What are you doing?” Mark protested.  “I thought those were for your parents.”

“I’m only taste-testing,” Yuta defended, mouth full of radish.  “Calm down.”  He poised the other half of the radish as if he were about to overhand chuck it in Mark’s direction.  That was, in fact, what he planned to do.  “Open up.” 

Mark’s eyes went wide.  “But it has your spit on it!” 

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a baby.” 

Mark nodded in acquiescence, opening his mouth for a split second before thinking of something else to worry about. 

“This seems dangerous though, like what if I choke on it?” 

“Then that’s really too bad because I do not know the Heimlich,” Yuta snarked.  “Try not to.” 

Mark opened his mouth again and Yuta threw the radish in an arc the few feet between them.   Mark shuffled a little to align his mouth and caught the radish, doing a little dance of victory when he realized he’d succeeded.  

“Yoooooo!” he yelled around his mouthful.  

Yuta clapped, he remarked to himself, like a cheerleader congratulating his boyfriend. Whatever.  He wasn’t above that.  

“That’s what I call synchronicity!” he said.    

Then, Yuta decided to experiment with combinations of the new earrings he’d bought recently while he and Mark talked.  They ended up mostly reminiscing about the stupid hijinks they’d gotten themselves into over the years: the time they got drunk and went skinny-dipping in the bioluminescence despite a slew of recent shark sightings (Mark kept trying to drift off into the mist and when they heard a loud splash near them in the water, Yuta asked Mark if he’d retrieve his dick if it got bitten off.  “Is that something you would want me to do?” Mark had responded); the time they went cliff-diving as a group and somehow Yuta managed to injure himself while stumbling over rocks to take a picture and then tried to tell everyone who hadn’t been there that he’d hurt himself jumping into the water so he wouldn’t sound like an idiot; the time Mark tried weed for the first time and became convinced he was suffering an aneurysm, begging Yuta to make him a potion for it; all the times Yuta and Mark travelled to dance competitions together as kids and shared hotel rooms, planning their entire futures as they waited to get sleepy.  They had promised to always have houses next to each other, and that their families and spouses would be forever close.   

Yuta sometimes found that, with long-time friends he didn’t get to see as often as he would have liked, it was easier to reminisce than to create new, whole memories.  It had nothing to do with Mark’s value as a friend, and they still came away from every summer with plenty of additional experiences and stories, but Yuta hated the feeling he sometimes got of their rhythm being off during the shorter breaks.  He worried their friendship would calcify into something past tense.  But then again, he figured, a deep understanding like what he and Mark shared didn’t need constant updates.  

Being with Mark sometimes took him back to being eighteen – right before he left for college – and in a way he liked that as much as he liked his friend.  He just got an occasional sinking feeling that they were missing each other’s landmarks.  It was irrational, but he couldn’t deny it. 

Mark had moved on to updates about his friend group as Yuta held a thin and dangly silver earring against his lobe.  Mark nodded in approval and Yuta worked to stifle a sudden bout of coughing.  Ah yes.  There it is. 

Later, at the dinner table, Yuta hardly got a word in edgewise with his parents and sister grilling Mark on how his first year was wrapping up: was his friend group holding up?  Yup.  Did he like his second semester classes?  He did.  Was he still sure he wanted to pursue a conservation major?  Yes.  Did he know who he’d room with the next year?  He was going to try to room with his friend Yeri, but they had to sign a consent form for co-ed housing first.  When was his next a cappella performance?  The big one was in late April.  Did he have a significant other?   

Yuta almost hacked up a spoonful of his root vegetable soup before glaring at his mom, the source of that query.  

“Aish, why does everyone wanna know that?” asked Mark, setting his spoon down for a second.  “Sorry, it’s just really funny to me.  No, I don’t.” 

Yuta looked across the table to his mother and caught her sending an irritated look right back at him.  He figured it was probably related to the vague threat she’d made earlier that she would know if he didn’t follow all her advice by the time he got home in the evening.  

Once they’d finished eating, the boys helped wash the dishes and Mrs. Nakamoto gifted Mark a little vial of her signature lucky potion for him to use during finals.  

“Bye, little dingus,” Haruna called to Mark as he and Yuta were on their way out for a quick post-prandial stroll.  Yuta turned around. 

“Don’t talk to your elder that way!”  She rolled her eyes.    

Outside, it was fully dark, and a distinct late-winter chill tinged the air enough that Yuta had to burrow his chin into the collar of his bomber jacket.  Rather than the chatter of crickets they would have heard at that hour during summertime, the air sung with the hush of breeze rustling the pines and the distant break of ocean waves.  Yuta thought bittersweetly about how the next time he’d see Mark for an extended time, the crickets would be back.  

“Sorry for all the prying,” Yuta grumbled as the two made their way to the little pedestrian suspension bridge over the river on the edge of town.  The river led to the ocean eventually, but inland, it felt thin and closed-off all the same.  This bridge passing over it was one of Yuta and Mark’s favorite spots to sit and chat late at night without anyone hearing.  In fact, it was that type of spot for most of the town’s young residents.  

“Don’t be,” Mark said jovially, kicking his feet leisurely as he walked.  “I expect it at this point.  Bet you remember what that’s like.” 

Yuta nodded.  He did.     

“You know,” Mark began, “it’s actually sorta calming to get the same questions over and over again.  Cuz like, for some reason I keep getting really stressed out when I come home.  I don’t know why…It’s kind of annoying.”  

Yuta pointed at Mark in recognition as he chimed in.  “No – I know exactly what you mean.  I used to get that too.  Remember when I had that panic attack?” 

Mark nodded.  “Oooh yeah, man, I do.  You were calling me at like two in the morning and you sounded like you were crying.  I had no idea what you were on about.  But I guess now I understand more.”  

Yuta smiled to himself as the sound of the river added its own particular hush to the mix of natural noises.  He tried not to take too much comfort in the idea that his friend was now suffering the same way he had.  At least it was a pretty privileged form of suffering…

Yuta took a deep breath, looking up and trying to find stars in the hazy dark sky.  

“My mom calls it liminality.  She says it's natural to feel spiritually detached at times of transition.  It’s like your identity is thrown into flux and it can be hard to balance your competing selves all at once.  You’ve got your independent college self and my little Markie boy who lives with his parents and can’t drive.”  At this, Yuta grabbed Mark and tried to give him a noogie.  “I think that’s what’s stressing you out. Might do you some good to recognize it and hear it verbalized.”    

Mark laughed.  They were approaching the entrance to the bridge.  “I guess that makes sense.  I – wait.” 

Yuta took a second to register that Mark had cut himself off and stopped walking.  He was staring into the distance towards the bridge, so Yuta followed his gaze.  He blinked a few times in the dark, but once his vision focused, he noticed what Mark had been looking at: a dark lump in the center of the suspended walkway.  It seemed to be moving – writhing almost – and Mark placed a finger over his mouth to indicate they should be silent.  Little groans and giggles emanated from the wiggly lump over the rush of the water.  It was a person – no – people.    

Yuta felt himself about to start laughing, and he didn’t want to disrupt whatever moment was going on in front of them, so he grabbed Mark’s arm and hauled him away, running back towards their houses and cracking up the minute they thought they were out of earshot.  

Mark tried to catch his breath from all the exertion.  “Were, were they –” 

“Fucking?” Yuta finished for him.  “Yeah, I think so.” 

Mark leaned over his knees.  It was the same position Yuta had used several times in the last day to combat his lung issue.  “Shit, man,” he said.  “I was not expecting that.” 

Yuta shook his head in disbelief.  “Me neither.  Here; on that note, let’s get you home. The Lees deserve their son back.” 

“Sounds good.  That’s enough excitement for one night.” 

***

Yuta tiptoed back into the kitchen before going to the barn to sleep, opening the fridge to sneak another few bites of the raspberry meringue cake his mom had bought on a whim from the Seos while shopping for dinner.   

Her voice in the dark startled him so badly that he jolted against the refrigerator shelving, rattling a whole row of bottled drinks and sauces and causing a racket.

“Holy shit, mom, you’re going to kill me,” he said, holding a hand against his chest like a 19th century gentlewoman.  

“Come to the living room with me, Yuta,” she said, bypassing his griping.  

Yuta gulped, following his mother’s directions until he was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of her lounge chair.  

“Didn’t I tell you I’d notice if you blew off my instructions?” she asked, sipping from a cup of tea.  It smelled like chamomile and it was making Yuta sleepy.  

“I know,” he said, “but I was with Mark all day and I didn’t want it to be weird for him while I like, went off into a corner to ruminate on my inner demons or whatever.  I was still gonna do it.  Also, I drank the potion you gave me.” 

“I understand Yuta,” she said, cutting him off before he could spew any more excuses, “but you’re going to do it right now.  I want you to feel better.” 

“I already do feel a little better,” Yuta said, though he knew he was lying.  His mom knew it too, because she gave him a skeptical sideways glance.

“You looked like you were holding in a coughing spell all through dinner,” she informed him.  Had he?  Yikes… “So, close your eyes.” 

Yuta knew how this was going to go, but still, he let his mom lead him through breathing and visualization, focusing on tracking and changing the color and temperature of his internal energy as it passed through each of his limbs, his gut, hit neck and shoulders, his head, and finally, to his lungs.  He tried to pull air in until it touched the extremity of them, boundaries of his body going fuzzy in concentration, but it was difficult for him; shaky almost.  

His mother’s voice floated into his consciousness, instructing him to imagine the hollow of his mind and let thoughts begin to trickle in without obstruction; to let them come and go without judgement. 

He thought of what Mark had been saying on their walk and how it resonated with his own experiences, how it frustrated him that he could never quite recreate the comfort of his and Mark’s dynamic when he visited him at school and they were with all Mark’s first year friends (at least Kun and Jaehyun were around at times, but still).  He thought about how weird it felt for all his friends to be scattered around.  Mostly though, he thought about the strange burning tightness that had been threatening to cut off his air supply over the last day whenever he dwelled too much on thoughts of his best friend, on observing him, on feeling lucky to know him.  

Next thing he knew, he was coughing aggressively again, dragging in empty breaths whenever his throat gave him a break from its violent convulsing.  The metal wires felt like they’d made their way into his heart.  Neither his breathing nor his coughing was satisfactory though; there was still something stuck.  What on earth was wrong with him? 

Yuta latched back onto the sound of his mother’s voice as he calmed down and opened his eyes.  She knelt next to him on the floor, rubbing over his back and knitting her brows in concern.    

“Oh darling,” she cooed.  “Have some tea.”  He drank gladly, but this time the obstruction inside him stayed right where it was halfway down his windpipe.  “It’s just as I thought.  Something is blocking you off from your spiritual self.” 

Yuta blinked some tears of exertion from his eyes, smirking as he returned somewhat to himself.  

“You sure it’s not just my sarcasm?” he joked, and his mom scowled.  

“Well, that’s certainly not helping,” she said.  She kissed his forehead and pulled away to find her tarot deck.  “But I am proud that you took that seriously.  It obviously stirred something.  Let me do a quick reading for you and then we can both get to bed.” 

Yuta waited as she set up the deck and drew a six of cups, reversed.  He sighed.  Intense nostalgia; feeling caught in the past or with a past self.  That much was obvious.  

Yuta’s mother smiled at him softly.  “Whatever this is, it’s holding you hostage in memories and longing.”  He nodded, remembering his earlier conversation with Mark where they couldn’t seem to stop dwelling on an idealized highlight reel of teenage shenanigans.  Right.  “Do you want to talk about it now?” 

“Not really.”  Yuta yawned.  He didn’t know if it was because he was actually tired or because he wanted this to wrap up.  

Mrs. Nakamoto started packing her cards back up.  “That’s alright.  You should get some sleep anyway.  Good night, dear.” 

“G’night.” 

***  

Yuta gave back into coughing the minute he’d crossed the threshold to his room.  He ran to the small trashcan next to his desk, still full of bottles from the night before, and heaved into it so hard he thought his eyes might pop out.  Finally though, he had a twinge of relief when the thing that had been caught in his airway materialized on his tongue and his trachea cleared fully for the first time all day.  He reached into his mouth and plucked out the offending object, holding it between his fingers over the trash.  It was long and yellow and smooth, shaped like the wooden paddles Donghyuck’s ice cream shop gives out for testers.  

A horrifying thought crossed Yuta’s mind as he rolled the delicate yellow petal softly between his fingers, watching it disintegrate under his touch and the acid of his saliva.  He turned to the bouquet on the coffee table to his left, shivering as he caught a glimpse of the sunny yellow rays of petals adorning each of the three baby sunflowers in the vase.  His heart dropped into his feet.  

Of course.  

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Onsra- Chapter 20: The Falling Angel

Pairing: vampire!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, horror, angst

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings for this chapter: none^

Tag list: @jjungkook99 @rubinora @ditttiii @fekitza @xxxanimangxxx

Onsra: ML, Previous

a/n: she a long one so enjoy ^-^

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

You shove another spoonful of cereal into your mouth at Yuri’s urging, insisting that you still need to build up your strength. It feels like it’s stuck in your throat as you try to swallow it, eventually getting it down with a gulp of water.

“I have some unfortunate news for everyone.”

Seokjin speaks up and the rest of you at the table look up at him. Everyone is here but Jungkook, you’re not sure what he always does in the mornings when the rest of you are eating breakfast. Seokjin clears his throat and sets his fork down before continuing.

“We can’t ignore the fire that happened. It could have just been some prank, but I highly doubt it. The others aren’t planning on stopping their hunts, in fact they’re getting bolder. I want everyone here to be ready at a moment’s notice to get out of here when someone sounds the alarm. Understand?” He looks each one of you in the eye until you nod. You like that he is straight forward with everyone, not trying to downplay anything that’s going on. If there’s something you need to know, Seokjin will tell you.

“I want to talk a little later, when everyone is here. I will explain to the girls what’s going on and we’ll come up with some plans after that. I don’t think we can stay here for much longer, but we’ll see.” Everyone nods and Seokjin’s pretty smile comes back, “Alright then! Enjoy your food now and we’ll discuss this more later.” 

Just then you see Jungkook step into the kitchen, “Why does everyone look so gloomy?” He asks before crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Jin looks up and seems genuinely surprised to see the younger vampire standing there, but he smiles nonetheless, “Hey Jungkook, nice of you to join us. Would you like some food?” Jin offers nicely. Jungkook just shakes his head and makes eye contact with you. 

You can tell he’s wondering if you’re finished with breakfast yet and ready to go and see what he said he wanted to show you last night. You give him a subtle nod and he sends everyone a tightlipped smile before turning and leaving.

“That was weird.” Yoongi says blankly while he takes another bite of his scrambled eggs.

Hoseok nods in agreement, “Yeah, he’s been acting strange the past couple days. I don’t know what to think.” You see them all look at each other, and you can tell they’re thinking about the fact that they were sure they’d lost their little brother.

Maybe he wasn’t as lost as they initially thought? You think hopefully as you clear your place and excuse yourself.

~

After you quickly pull your shoes on, you find Jungkook standing on the front porch waiting for you.

“Took you long enough.” He mutters.

You roll your eyes and let yourself smile a little, knowing he’s just trying to get under your skin. Jungkook turns and walks down the steps, heading in the direction of the forest. You follow him but your footsteps slow down the closer you get to entering that blasted forest again.

“Jungkook, where are we going?” You speak up hesitantly when he reaches the edge of the tree line. He turns and looks at your anxious face, then he walks the few steps between you and stops in front of you.

“It’s okay. We aren’t going very far, and I know the way out again.” He laughs lightly and you smile at the sound before swallowing and nodding.

“Alright then, lead the way.” You gesture out with your hand for him to keep going and he bows slightly before turning and continuing his way into the trees. After a couple minutes of walking, you see Jungkook slow down as he approaches what appears to be a giant hedge. He turns to you, excitement lighting up his eyes and making your heart pinch at the sight. 

“It’s in here. Come on.” Then, Jungkook pushes some branches of the hedge to the side, tilting his head in a gesture meant for you to walk ahead of him. You nod in thanks for him holding the branches out of the way, then step through the hedge.

A gasp leaves your lips at the sight in front of you; a mini waterfall trickles down the sides of a tiny hill of rocks, little white flowers surrounding the small pond that the waterfall pours into. The waterfall is only a little taller than you, and by the looks of it, you could stand in the little pond and it wouldn’t be any higher than your ribcage.

You feel Jungkook come through the hedge behind you, passing by and walking to sit at the edge of the water. You follow him, sitting crisscross on the ground next to him.

“What do you think?” He asks it so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

“It’s beautiful. How did you find this place?” You whisper as well, feeling like you don’t want to disturb the reverent silence. You’re still trying to get used to the change in his personality, feeling like you are constantly getting whiplash every time he’s being sweet.

“I was just walking around the woods and stumbled upon it one day. No one else knows about it.” You raise your eyebrows in shock at his words. Now you’re really confused. Why would he share this with you? Of all the people in that house.

“You haven’t even told Taehyung or Jimin about this place?” You say softly and he shakes his head. “No, it was my special place to get away from everyone.”

Wait a minute, is he actually opening up to you right now?

“Why did you show me then, Jungkook?” You can’t help but ask him gently, watching as he seems to think about his answer, biting his lip and blinking a few times. Then he turns to you, he smiles a little but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m not sure honestly, maybe because I feel bad.”

You shake your head vehemently at that and say, “Jungkook, you already apologized, and I forgave you. You didn’t have to share your special place with me. Don’t worry, I won’t come back without asking you first.”

Jungkook looks back at the tiny waterfall, a silence falling between you two. You lay back on the ground, letting the sun warm your skin as it peeks through the trees. The grass is so soft and smells so sweet you’re questioning if you two didn’t just step foot into some magical garden. You open your eyes for a second when you feel Jungkook lay beside you on the grass, sighing and closing his eyes.

You notice he’s moved his body in a way so that the sun doesn’t shine directly on him, his face mostly in the shade of a big tree.

You smile and close your eyes again, “So, what do you think Seokjin will have us do? You think we’ll have to leave?” You say after a minute of silence.

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away, instead he takes another breath and sighs before turning and laying on his side so that he’s facing you.

“I’m not sure. There’s not really anywhere to go.”  You open your eyes at his words, your stomach dropping at the short distance between the two of you. Suddenly Jungkook shifts to sit up on his elbow, still looking down at you. Your heart is racing as he leans in closer.

“Jungkook-“ You say weakly, not sure he can even hear you. He’s about three inches from your face when you lean backwards, the panic finally making some sense come into your head. That seems to make him realize what he’s doing as he slowly stops advancing.

“Sorry…” He mumbles and moves to lie back on the grass, acting like he wasn’t just about to kiss you.

Your breathing is erratic as you turn to look at the sky, your cheeks a deep crimson while you try to steady your heart.

~

When the two of you return to the house, Jungkook goes back to his closed off ways like before. You have a feeling it isn’t about what happened in the woods though. It seems like he always distances himself around you when the others are there.

You’re not sure why he cares if they see him talking to you, but you don’t push him. You just give him a small smile in thanks for showing you the beautiful hidden gem, hoping he understands how much it meant to you. Then, you head to the kitchen to help Jin with lunch.

You catch Jungkook watching you as you help Seokjin put the sandwiches together. Each time you see him, he quickly looks away. When the table is set and everyone sits down to eat, you notice Jungkook only eats a little before excusing himself from the table. You frown at that, worried that you never really see him eat.

Jin also seems to notice, sighing to himself when he sees Jungkook leave the dining room. You try not to think about it, knowing it will only drive you crazy, since Jungkook will never open up about it.

After lunch, you manage to get Seokjin out of the kitchen so you can do the dishes while he gets a break from it. He only agrees after you promise to not lift a finger at dinner tonight. He probably knows you’re lying, the way he gives you the side eye as he leaves the kitchen convinces you he knows. But, it’s fine, as long as he can get some rest.

You fill the right sink with soapy water, dunking all the plates and cups in it before scrubbing them. While being so caught up in getting the dishes done, you almost scream when you feel someone touch your shoulder. Then your heart starts racing for a different reason when you turn and see Jungkook smirking at you.

“Doing the dishes, Cinderella?” He raises an eyebrow cockily at your sweaty and soapy appearance. You smile back at him and nod, “Indeed I am. Would you like to help?” Jungkook hesitates, then nods slowly. You feel a smirk building inside you at catching him and making him pay for teasing you.

“Stand on this side and dry the dishes when I hand them to you.” You tell him while pointing to your left.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You quickly develop a routine of scrubbing the dishes, rinsing, then handing them to Jungkook who stands there with a towel, ready to dry and put them away. You’re scrubbing the last cup when Jungkook speaks up again.

“Why do you do this?”

“Mm? Do what?” You ask while rinsing the cup, then handing it to him.

Jungkook takes it and starts to dry it, leaning his hip against the counter. “This. Constantly helping around the house, doing the food and dishes.” You tilt your head to the side in confusion, “Well, why shouldn’t I? I live here for now, and I’m grateful for being saved. The least I can do is a couple chores.” Jungkook doesn’t let up at that though, shaking his head while he puts the cup in the cupboard.

“No, it isn’t just that. You help outside, you do the laundry, even stupid little things like wiping the windowsills. It’s like you’re up to something.”

He squints suspiciously at you, which just makes you shake your head and laugh, “Ok, Jungkook. You can think whatever you’d like. I didn’t know trying to be helpful suddenly implies I’m up to something, but whatever.”

“You sure you’re not trying to convince Seokjin you’re just an innocent little angel?”

“A what?” You laugh and he smiles lightly.

“An angel, y/n. That’s what you’re acting like.”

“Well, I’m flattered you think of me like that, Jungkook.”

You turn and leave the kitchen before he can respond.

After dinner, which you ended up sneakily helping Jin out with, ignoring his warning glares for you to sit down, you’re all in the living room waiting for Jin to give you the rundown of what’s going on. The three of you girls sit on the couch, Tae sitting on one arm of it next to Ga-In and Jimin sitting on the other arm next to Yuri, leaving you in the middle. Namjoon and Yoongi are sitting on chairs they brought in from the dining room. Jin also sits in a dining chair, where his old recliner used to be. Hoseok and Jungkook are leaning against the wall, their arms crossed over their chests.

Jin starts immediately after everyone has quieted down, clearing his throat and getting straight to the point. “Ok, first things first. This is not to make anyone panic, you’re all perfectly safe for now. And you girls will be safe as long as you’re with us. This is only for precautions and to help everyone be prepared. Understood?” Once he gets a nod from everyone, he continues.

“I want everyone to pack a bag. Put some essentials in it and leave it where it’ll be easy to grab in the case of an emergency. For now, all you need to know is that there is another group of vampires out there, and they’re sending out hunters each night to gather people. We’re guessing it’s to turn them, not kill them. As of right now, this group is miles from us, so we’re going to stay put until further notice. No point in running around blindly.” Seokjin states everything simply and clearly.

“Again, just stay alert and don’t panic. I will let everyone know if anything changes. Are we all clear?” Everyone nods again and Jin claps his hands. “Alright then, I’m gonna hit the hay. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Up in your room, you sit on your bed and talk with the other girls about everything that’s going on. No one else seems very worried, so you try to play along and wave off the anxiety. Sometimes you wish you could be braver than you are. Then Ga-In giggles and you look at her, a question in your eyes.

“What’s so funny?” You ask before Yuri giggles too. You look between the two of them and frown, “Why are you laughing at me?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering what’s making you zone out, y/n. Is it Jungkook?”

You turn pink and duck your head, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Yuri joins in and continues to poke you on the arm, “Oh come on y/n. Everyone can tell you’re totally into him.”

Everyone?

And who said you were into him?

You just got flustered because he was nice to you. That doesn’t mean you’re into him.

“And he definitely likes you too, y/n.” Ga-In points out, making you turn a deeper shade of pink.

“You guys are idiots. Get off my bed and let me sleep.” You push at them, making them giggle some more before finally moving to their own beds.

That night you dream of Jungkook following you around the house while you try to tidy up, poking fun at you and messing up what you just cleaned. You keep ignoring him and wipe the bookshelves of dust, trying not to blush as he leans against it and continuously calls you ‘angel’.  

The next day, you’re taken by surprise when Jungkook invites you to join him in the forest again. You agree, trying to hide your emotions the entire time as he teases you.

“So, a lot of dishes at breakfast, angel?”

“Why are you calling me that?”

“Would you rather I go back to Idiot? Or maybe Stupid?” You turn to him in annoyance. The way he calls you angel makes your heart flutter and that upsets you. You can’t fall for him! You barely know him!

“Never mind. Call me whatever you’d like.” You mutter before turning to walk into the woods. Jungkook just chuckles, then does exactly what you gave him permission to do.

~           

It goes on like this for the next two weeks.

Seokjin reminds everyone to stay close to the house and be ready for anything. The way he pulls the oldest boys aside almost every night into the living room to talk, you feel like he’s preparing for everyone to leave. Maybe Yoongi and Namjoon found a place during their scouting? You’re not sure, but you keep quiet and wait for Jin to tell you himself. Nothing happens with any other vampires, it’s almost scarily calm. The holes in the house have been repaired and the roof is almost done.

It’s become a routine for you and Jungkook to meet outside after breakfast and walk to the little hidden waterfall. You really want to come up with a name for it, seeing as Jungkook told you it belongs to you as well now. You don’t go there without him though, you’re too scared to go in the woods alone. Besides, it’s fun to have someone to finally talk to. Ga-In and Taehyung are stuck together like glue these days, always talking or looking for little creatures to catch and name before letting them loose again. Yuri and Jimin are constantly in the library, talking about books and bickering back and forth.

The eldest boys always talk about things you don’t understand, other times they’re in the living room with the door shut, discussing matters that don’t involve you right now.

You think of Seungwook every day, hoping he made it out of whatever happened that night. It makes you sick to think of anything else happening, so you only spend a short time sending up a quick prayer for his safety before distracting yourself with other things. Sometimes, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever see him again, but that thought turns your insides to mush so you just tell yourself over and over again that he’s okay.

It seems like Jungkook really doesn’t hate you. You’re convinced now that when he first met you, he just had his guard up. Sometimes, you think the other boys were afraid they’d lost Jungkook when his behavior changed, when in reality maybe he was just traumatized and shut himself off from them? Either way, you’re glad he’s opening up to you now.

It’s been two and a half weeks since Jungkook first took you to his special spot. You’re walking through the forest after breakfast, Jungkook by your side as you chatter away about life before everything happened. Right now, you’re discussing the pets you had, or wanted to have.

“I wanted a goldfish. I mean, I really wanted a dog or cat, but the landlord said no. So, I decided I was going to get a goldfish and name her Goldilocks, but I never got the chance.”  

“A goldfish? Lame.” Jungkook scoffs and you look at him, offended.

“What’s the matter with a goldfish?”

Jungkook looks at you and as he laughs his fangs show, making your heart tickle, “They don’t do anything! They just swim around all day and eat. A snake would be a lot cooler than a fish.” 

A snake doesn't do anything but slither and eat, you think bitterly.

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind a fish because I can relate to them. I don’t do anything but sit around and eat either, besides they’re cute.” You say while you pout and look ahead, waiting to come up on the hedge.

“Oh yeah, I can see that.” Jungkook muses.

You turn and glare at him, then feel your stomach tighten and cheeks blush at his next words.

“I mean, you’re cute too, right angel?”

Ohhhhhh shoot.

Never has a boy ever called you cute.

Over the past couple weeks, you’ve found yourself in a dangerous place. After talking more with Jungkook, you can feel your heart starting to really open up to the idea of letting him in. It terrifies you.

“Shut up.” You mutter and turn your face away from his. Jungkook just laughs and steps ahead to hold the hedge open for you to walk through.

“Why?” He asks slyly when you pass him and walk into the little area. You shake your head, moving to sit on a rock and watch the waterfall as it cascades down the rocks. “Because we both know you’re just teasing me.”

You feel Jungkook sit beside you, then his fingers brush against yours and you feel the panic in your chest again. You’re not used to this; you have the urge to just get up and run away as fast as you possibly can. His next words make it even worse.

“I’m not though.”

What is happening? It feels like your head is going to explode.

You jump off the rock, startling Jungkook as you run to a patch of the little white flowers that you love so much. You crouch down and stare at them, reaching out a finger to gently stroke the petals of one.

“We need to give this place a name.” You say nonchalantly, trying to keep your head straight. “It’s so beautiful, it deserves a really good name.” You state matter-of-factly.

Jungkook sighs and leans back on the rock, “Ok, what do you want to name it?” He decides to let you get away with ignoring him just this once.

You rack your brain for anything to say, not wanting him to change the subject back to the previous one. “Uh…Do you have any ideas?”

Jungkook thinks for a second before shaking his head, “No, sorry. I’m no good at that kind of thing.” You nod, petting the little flower and trying to think of a name.

Suddenly an idea pops into your head and you leap up in excitement.

“Komorebi!”

Jungkook looks at you like you’re crazy, sitting up on the rock and staring silently while you jump up and down.

“That’s perfect!” You squeal and clasp your hands together, turning to Jungkook to explain, “I heard it once in class. Our literature teacher used to teach us random little facts every day. Once he told us about a Japanese word, Komorebi. It combines the words light, trees, and escape.” You brighten when Jungkook smiles widely and stands up, “It’s perfect, angel.”

You feel the nerves shoot through your chest again when he walks over to you. So, you turn and look in the pond; a few fish swim here and there and you grin at them, crouching to see them closer. You spot a little orange fish; it isn’t a goldfish but it reminds you of one. “Jungkook, look! I’ll just name this little one Goldilocks.” You laugh in delight as you point at the fish to show him. Jungkook smiles at you, nodding when you turn to him.

“You should name one too.” He crouches next to you at your words, looking into the pond. A little red and white fish zips around the orange one, then darts away before repeating the action. “I like that one.” Jungkook points at the tiny hyper fish.

“What do you want to name him?”

“Hmm…how about Fin?” Jungkook asks, studying the fish.

You laugh and smile at the fish, bringing your hand up to wave at it. “I think that’s perfect. Hello Fin, nice to meet you.”

Fin just continues to tease Goldilocks, darting every which way around her. You laugh at the two of them, reminded of how Jungkook always takes each opportunity he can to irk you. Then, a little white fish comes into view, slowly passing by the other fish and minding its own business. It swims behind a rock before you can get a good look at it. “Aww, that one was cute.” You pout and wait for it to come out again. When it does, Jungkook points at it and says, “That one’s name is Angel.” You look at him in surprise, “How come?”

“Because it acts just like you. It’s a little scaredy-cat and the white color is like your giant white t-shirt.” You laugh at his logic and nod, “Ok, fair enough.”

After a minute of silence and watching the fishes swim, you’re suddenly pulled to your feet. Jungkook has you by the arm as he gently pulls you closer to him. His red eyes glint with that same look you’ve yet to figure out the meaning to. His gaze is unflinching as he looks into your eyes. You know your own eyes are bugging out of your head as you stare back. Jungkook’s tongue peeks out when he wets his lips, his fangs catching your attention before they once again hide behind his lips.

What is going on?

What are you supposed to do?

This is all extremely new to you and it’s all happening so suddenly.

This is uncharted territory for goodness sake!

Your heart is pounding so hard you’re ready for it to fly right out of your chest. You swear you can hear it hammering away when Jungkook leans closer.

“Y/n, do you like me?” Your eyes bug out further at his sudden question, your throat going dry as you try to answer him.

“I- what do you mean? I, of course I like you, you’re my friend.” You say quietly, not even believing it yourself. You need to cough. Like, right now. But his face is so close, and you don’t want to end up coughing all over him like the idiot you are. So, you try to make do with clearing your throat to get the sudden tickle out of it.

“You know that isn’t what I meant.”

“Jungkook-“

“What would you do if I said I like you?”

I would fly into the sun and implode is what I’d do.

“I-I-I-“

Why can’t you talk??

What a time to lose your words.

“Y/n?”

Think y/n! Say something. Anything.

You shake your head, unable to speak.

Jungkook leans in even closer, his lips two inches from your own. By now your panic is reacting by freezing you where you are. You can’t move an inch, your body won’t let you.  

“May I?”

At those words, your mind is completely shot. An awkward squeak leaves your throat, but you nod your head.

You’ve never been kissed before.

This will be your first kiss.

Oh goodness.

You see Jungkook smile and your heart melts. You can’t bear to look at him though, so you close your eyes just as he moves closer. You can feel his breath on your lips, your stomach full of frantic butterflies. The anticipation is killing you.

But, it doesn’t come. Your brows furrow in confusion, maybe he’s just teasing you as long as he can. You’re about to open your eyes when you hear him speak, the tone of his voice makes your stomach twist when something clicks in your mind.

“Oh no.”

You open your eyes to see him smirking at you, still extremely close to your face. His voice has turned into something far from kind. Far from the Jungkook you’ve come to know over the past few weeks.

It’s mocking as he tilts his head, faking a sad smile as his next words tear a piece of your heart that you’d kept closed off for so long.

“Did the little angel actually fall for me?”

a/n: Jungkook you mother*cker...0_o

[crayonwriting]

The Mandalorian (3/4)

(Din Djarin x Reader) Part 3, everybody! Changed it up a bit from the actual episode. Tell me your thoughts!

Summary: You’re the good soul that helps the Mandalorian retrieve, save and protect the Child.

<<prev // next>>

You wrung your fingers nervously as you waited for Mando to come back. You didn’t exactly count the time that had passed. But with the whining and uneasiness of the Jawas, you knew that it was already long enough.

Without warning, they kicked you out of their sandcrawler, along with your hoversled and blurrg. They were obviously disappointed that they didn’t get what they bargained for. 

“Just wait a little longer!” You said from your position on the ground. They shouted back something you didn’t catch. With the shaking of their heads and how some of them waved their hands frantically, you figured that their patience had already run thin.

“Fine! Leave without me!” You shouted, making a face. You huffed out in annoyance and turned your back to them. You could hear the hatch door of the sandcrawler slowly go up. You decided that you were going to look for the Mandalorian if he doesn’t show up when the Jawas leave.

Just when the thought had passed, you saw the Mandalorian’s figure in the distance—along with the Child’s.

“Mando!” You screamed. You waved both of your hands, trying to catch his attention. True enough, he lifted his head and looked at you. You felt small tears prick the corner of your eyes. You were relieved that he was okay and alive. 

The Mandalorian limped slightly towards where you were standing. He held the mudhorn egg in one arm as he clutched his rifle with the other one. Just as he got closer, you noticed how damaged his armour was. Broken chest plate, damaged vambraces and a helmet full of scratches. He was all dirty, covered in mud and something else you didn't want to know. 

"I have it." He said, his voice going down to an almost whisper. "I've got the egg."

The Jawas started cheering gleefully. They flocked to the Mandalorian and met him halfway. They almost wrestled for it but Mando gave it to them immediately. Their leader cheered and walked to the entrance of their sandcrawler. The Jawas cracked open the egg, dunked their little hands inside and started...eating it? A slimy, yellow mixture was inside and they devoured it as if they haven't eaten in weeks.

Mando shook his head disappointedly and limped over to where you were standing. You took a step forward. Relief washed over you seeing him up close despite the mud, dirt and the battered armour. You wiped your unshed tears with your forearm, giving him an impressed smile.

“I’m surprised you waited.” The Mandalorian was just as happy and relieved as you were. He noticed how you wiped your tears but didn’t say anything about it. 

“Well, I’m surprised you took so long.” You fired back. No one moved and said anything else. Mando looked at you intently. You gazed back at him the same way, staring hard through the visor of his helmet, hoping to at least see the shadows of his eyes. Unbeknownst to you, Mando had a small smile on his face beneath the beskar. 

—

The ride back to the Razor Crest was silent and a little bit slower than before. With the added weight of the Razor Crest’s parts on the hoversled, your blurrg was doing that best it could to pull. You kept petting the side of its head as encouragement and praise that it was doing an absolutely amazing job. The blurrg hummed in response. 

Behind you, Mando remained quiet, keeping his gaze locked on the Child, who was still unconscious.

“Is it still sleeping?” You asked. Without breaking his stare, he reached over the Child’s pod and shook it gently. The Child didn’t even budge or flinch at the action.

“Yes.”

You breathed out, asking softly, “Was it injured?” It took a beat before Mando answered.

“I don’t think so. Not physically.”

“Explain it to me again.” You looked back at him just as he turned his head to look at you. “I still don’t understand what happened.”

“Neither do I.”

You waited for him to say something else but it was obvious that he was as clueless as you. Facing front again, you kept quiet for the remainder of your journey.

—

Dusk had started to settle when you finally reached what’s left of the Razor Crest. Mando looked at it from afar.

“There’s no way we’re gonna get this to work without a full maintenance facility.”

You paid him no heed as you did your best to set up the portable light you knew you needed. When it was finally working, you slung your bag of tools over your shoulder, gathered up a few parts of the ship in your arms and walked towards the Mandalorian.

“This is gonna take days to fix.” He sighed.

You rolled your eyes behind his back. When you were beside him, you gave him half of the parts you were already carrying in your arms along with your tool bag.

“If you care to help me, then maybe we could finish faster.” You teased. You walked right up to the ship and started working on the hull leaving him to stand there. He didn’t know why but you always caught him off guard with the way you responded to certain situations. He’s surprised you’re still here, helping him fix his ship, instead of going back to your farm. He’s only known you for a day and yet you treat him as if you’ve known each other for years.

He felt that you trusted him. He knew you trusted him. The words ‘trust’ and ‘Mandalorian’ didn’t really go well with each other when the phrase ‘bounty hunter’ is also included. You were different; that he was sure of. A good different.

“Uhm, hello? Arvala to the Mandalorian? We’ve got a long way to go if you’re just gonna stand there.” You shouted out to him. Mando snapped out of his thoughts and walked towards you.

You both worked together on patching up the ship. He worked on the remainder of the hull while you fixed the engines. Despite the loud hammering, welding, and bolting, the Child remained asleep in his pod, undisturbed. Both you and Mando took small breaks in between then continued the work.

When you were done with the engines, you started fixing the wirings and connections inside the cockpit. You were once an indentured servant, utilized for your craftsmanship and mechanic skills. Working on the Razor Crest felt like second nature to you.

The sun was just starting to rise as you flipped a few switches on the panel. The comms beeped alive as well as the screen. You smiled triumphantly. ‘Yep, still have it in me,’ you thought.

Mando was now sitting on the cockpit, with you stood on the side. He pressed a button and flipped a few switches. He pulled on the right lever and glanced as the right engine roared to life. He did the same with the other side. The Razor Crest was back. 

You grinned at him, proud. You leaned your arm on his shoulder, sighing contentedly.

“She’s a fighter, that’s for sure.” You mumbled, looking around the control panel. Mando sat stock still. He really wasn't used to people touching him. He would seize the hand of someone about to touch him so instantly that no one ever dared to do it. And then there's you. You’ve been giving him pats on his shoulder,  touching his armour...and he didn't even stop you. Why? Kriff, he doesn't know. All he knows is that you're different. And that he doesn't mind getting touched by you.

You pat his arm—again—a few times before walking out of the cockpit and down the ladder to the hull. The Mandalorian followed suit. You went to the corner, gathering up all your tools and putting them in your bag. 

"I can't thank you enough. Please, allow me to give you a portion of the reward." The Mandalorian stated. You stopped halfway from fixing your tools. You turned to him and shook your head firmly.

"You know I can't accept that. Besides, you're my guest. Making me, at your service." You gave him a mock bow which you yourself laughed at. You swore you heard a soft chuckle from him, despite the helmet. You gave him a smile and continued to pack up your tools. 

He stood there for a moment. He wanted to ask you something but he thought against it. He turned away from you. He was only able to walk a few steps before he came walking back to where you were.

"I could use a crew member of your ability." You gave him a glance, with an eyebrow raised in question. He took that as a sign to continue. "I can pay you handsomely." He urged. For a moment, he felt a little on edge as he waited for your answer. You made an impressed face. You looked at him, beaming.

"You know what?" You eyed him. "I’d like that.” You nodded a few times, mulling over the idea. Mando felt...elated at the thought of you joining him. But when he saw how your smile suddenly grew smaller and smaller, he felt something in his chest grow heavy.

“Believe me when I say that, it is an honour to be working for a Mandalorian. But I have worked…,” you sighed, “A lifetime, to free myself from servitude. And here I am. I can’t go back.” You looked at him, a sad smile on your face. The Mandalorian nodded.

“I understand.” He sounded a bit disappointed. “Then, all I can offer is my thanks.”

“And I offer mine. Thank you for bringing peace to my valley.” The ramp of the Razor Crest was down as you gestured towards the vast lands in front of you. You huffed out loud and faced him again, for what could possibly be the last time. You clamped a hand down on his shoulder. He looked at where your hand was then looked back at you. Smiling and squeezing his shoulders lightly, you hiked up your tool bag on your shoulder and started down the ramp, out of the ship.

He watched you walk away and for some reason, it sent an ache across his body. He was sad to see you go, but he understood your principles—as you did his. In a short amount of time, he had felt a connection with the Child and protected it from other bounty hunters. He also felt a connection with you. Helping him get parts of his ship and repairing the Razor Crest itself. It was already dangerous being seen with a Mandalorian but he didn’t feel that you were scared.

You mounted your blurrg and looked back at him. “Good luck with the Child! May it survive and give you a handsome reward. Maybe by yourself a new armour, yeah?”

You saluted him and waved farewell. From the cockpit of his ship, he nodded in acknowledgement before starting up the Razor Crest. He pressed all the necessary buttons and flipped the appropriate switches and soon enough, the Mandalorian and the child were off. 

—

permanent tag: @awkwardfangirl2014​

the mandalorian tag: @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ 

pedro pascal tag: @thinemineours​ / @lavenderl3mons​

[nyxicnymph]

I walk out of my dorm and into the common area. Most of the hero class is just vibing in there already, so my entrance goes pretty unnoticed. I decide to sit with Momo and the girls while they do their homework.

It’s all going fairly smooth, they’re all happy and chatting over logarithms and square roots. A bunch of the boys walk in and settle down all over the room. I wave at Bakugo, Midoriya, and Todoroki in specific, but it really applies to the whole group. The three I wave to wave back with varying levels of enthusiasm, and a few of the others wave at me as well.

I look at my watch and see the time. I stand up and make my way to the kitchen. I pull stuff out of the fridge and freezer, contemplating what I can make out of what we have.

“Hey, can we send someone to go grocery shopping tomorrow? We’ll need vegetables for tomorrow, among other things,” I mention, closing the fridge and turning to the stove.

A few voices acknowledge my request, so I feel pretty sure it will actually get done. I take the sausage and start thawing it out under warm water, and turn to the chives. I quickly chop those up as the water runs, then I put the chives in a warm pan with some onion bits.

I unwrap the sausage, and toss it in the pan with the vegetables. I grab some eggs and start scrambling them up in a bowl, then mix some spices in. I pull a bunch of bread slices out of the oven where they had been getting toasty, and dunk them in the egg mixture. I start laying them on a griddle, letting them cook on one side before turning back to the sausage and mixing it around before it burns.

A solid twenty minutes pass before I’m actually done, and by that time, many of my classmates have stopped by and looked, if not directly asked what I was making.

I set the French toast and the sausage mix on the table, hoping there’s enough for everyone. I call out, “Dinner’s done!”

The kids swarm the table, talking excitedly. I had already eaten a bit while I was cooking, so I let them eat their fill. I listen to the general tone of their conversations, noting that they’re really happy and cheerful. I smile at that.

“Dang, Natsumi, we didn’t know you could cook so well!” Kaminari says as he waves his toast around on a fork.

I smile at him. “Thank you. I just noticed we didn’t have anything for dinner, so I decided to remedy that. I learned a lot from my parents and my step-dad.”

Sero chimes in. “Well you did a great job! They did a good job when they taught you.”

I shuffle my feet in mild embarrassment. “I mostly just watched whenever they cooked.”

Kirishima looks over. “I’m glad they switched Mineta out for you, honestly. It was a good idea on their part.”

“That’s... reassuring, I guess.”

I get many compliments on my cooking, which confuses me, because it wasn’t a hard meal to make. I accept the compliments, however, albeit shyly.

I start collecting the pans and things I used to cook and take them to the sink so I can wash them. I look up as I grab the griddle to see Todoroki looking at me from across the room. I flush slightly, unsure as to why exactly he’s staring, but then he looks away. I force my head to clear, and take the griddle to the sink.

Kaminari and Sero walk up, both with their own plates, and start trying to chat with me. I mostly tune them out, but then the both of them back up. I don’t question this, as they seem to share a braincell for most things, and I haven’t really been responding to their conversation.

Then I feel arms wrapping around me, and I tense up.

“Uh,” I start. “Hi?”

“Mine.” Todoroki’s voice shocks me to my core.

I start blushing, even though I’m trying not to. “Ah, what do you mean by that?”

He rests his head on top of mine. “You’re mine now, if that’s okay. I get jealous when the others talk to you, Natsumi. I don’t like it when that happens, and it hurts me to not say what I’m feeling.”

My face feels like it’s on fire, and I wonder if his feels the same. I do my best to articulate a sentence, however.

“So, you... you like me?”

He picks his head up. “That sounds childish. And ambiguous. I like Yaoyorozu, but I don’t feel the same way towards her. It’s more like...” He goes silent, thinking. “I don’t want anyone to hurt you, I would do almost anything for you, and when other boys talk to you, I want to freeze them and shatter them.”

“Uh, maybe don’t do that.”

“I know, it’s not heroic. That’s why I try not to look at you, and I’ve avoided you for a while.”

I stop scrubbing the pan. “I had wondered about that.”

He lets go of me, and stands next to me, his back to the sink as he leans on the counter. “All of these... feelings had me really confused, so I tried to avoid you to see if that would help. When it didn’t, I didn’t know what to do. The only solution I could come up with is claiming you as mine? Whatever that entails.”

I flush, returning to the pan. “You’re not very good at this, are you?”

He runs his hand through his hair. “No. Please help.”

I giggle. “Well, do you want to go on a date, like just one? Or do you want to date, like as in, more than one single date? Or do you just want to say I’m your...” I trip over my tongue. “Uh, maybe.... maybe you should ask Mina. She’ll be able to help more than me. I’m just a flustered mess.”

He nods, and stands up straight. Before he walks away, he stops next to me, and gently kisses my cheek. “I just want to be with you, Natsumi.”

I blush, desperately trying not to drop the scrub brush. “I might as well admit that it’s a mutual feeling.”

“OH FOR THE LOVE OF—COULD YOU TWO PLEASE JUST START DATING ALREADY?!” Mina yells from across the room, causing me to completely drop the scrubbie.

I grab the brush, blushing furiously. Todoroki is also red, and mumbles, “I don’t know how.”

Kaminari walks up. “Just ask her to dinner or something.”

“I’m right here,” I say, looking at him.

He raises his hands in defense. “I’m just trying to help you two out!”

Todoroki thinks for a moment. “We can go out tomorrow, and get the shopping done while we’re out?”

I nod, too flustered to say anything else. I ferociously scrub the pan, hoping to work things out in my head while I do so.

“Let me help. You did all the cooking. It’s unfair for you to do all the washing, too.” Todoroki takes the scrub brush out of my hands and gently moves me aside.

I cross my arms. “But—”

“No. I’m doing the dishes.” There’s no changing his mind.

I watch as he washes them clean, fairly easily. However, I did make sure none of the food stuck to the pans. When he finishes, he sets them aside, and I dry them off. I put them away while he wipes the counter down.

When we’re both done, we kind of stand awkwardly for a moment, and then he extends his hand out to me, almost shyly. I take it, just as shyly. He guides me over to the couch and sits down. I hesitate before I sit down, leaving a little space between the two of us.

He pulls me closer. “Don’t make me suffer, please.”

I giggle, just a the sheer cringiness of the situation. “Uh, I’ll try not to.”

He lays his head on mine. “Good. That means a lot to me, Natsumi.”

“Evie,” I say, relaxing.

“Then you call me Shoto.”

I agree, and together we watch our classmates dork off for the remainder of the night. We only separate when we decide to go to our rooms so we can sleep.

I fall asleep with the most euphoric feeling in my heart.

-Timeskip-

I fidget nervously, playing with the end of my sleeve. He said he was going to pick me up, but I don’t know what exactly he means by that. He just said to wait outside the school gate, so here I am. Waiting.

I hear an engine and step back. Usually vehicles don’t pass through here. Interesting.

The car pulls up in front of me, and I take another step back. Then the window rolls down. I relax as I see Shoto’s face in the window.

“I thought you were a kidnapper,” I joke as I get in the passenger’s side of the car.

“I would never kidnap you. There’s no need.”

“I didn’t know you could drive, Shoto,” I say, looking around.

He smiles slightly. “I got my license a month ago. Somewhere around there. This is my dad’s car, though. He said I shouldn’t just make you walk all over town.”

I giggle slightly, which might seem out of character, but I can’t help it.

“I did suggest a rental, but he called those...” He clears his throat. “Crappy.”

I snort. “Or he didn’t want you to spend money!” I have to restrain myself from laughing anymore.

But then he turns all serious. “Oh, yes, probably.” He stops at a red light, reaches his hand into his pocket, and whips out a slim card. “Little did he know what I have planned for this evening.”

I grin. “Is that his or yours?”

“His.”

I snort again. “Naturally. Okay.” I calm myself before I continue. “I’ll be quiet now. I don’t want to talk your ear off.”

“I doubt that’s possible, Evie. Conversation works two ways, so we’d be talking each other’s ears off.” He smiled softly, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

I blush at the sight, looking away and tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear. I get all fidgety, and with nothing to do, I end up twisting my fingers in my dress and drumming them against my thighs.

I look up as the car slows, noticing a fancy restaurant beside us. I twist my fingers together, unsure as to whether or not I would be able to be comfortable in such a place.

Shoto parks the car, and places his hand on top of mine. “You’ll be fine, Evie. I’ve seen you adapt to any situation, good, bad, or somewhere in between. This will be a small thing.”

I flush again, and hesitantly place my other hand over his. “Ok. I’ll do my best. I won’t be awkward.”

He smiles softly at me, making blush deeper. He takes his hand away, and exits the car. I clear my head and do the same.

I meet him at the walkway towards the door. He gently takes my hand and pulls me into the restaurant.

“How can we help the lovely couple this evening?” A waiter asks.

I blush more than I ever thought I could, reclaiming my hand and using both of my hands to cover my face. Shoto takes this in stride, and lays his hand on one of my shoulders instead.

“I should have a reservation, a table for two?” He says calmly.

The waiter’s eyes widen. “Oh.... The Todoroki table!” He walks off hastily.

“I think he was expecting my father,” Shoto says, watching the waiter mildly freak out at a distance.

“I would, too, if the name ‘Todoroki’ was on my evening shift,” I respond, bringing my hands down where they belong.

“You work at a noodle shop, Evie. You don’t get reservations, and it would only be me. Or Natsu,” he adds thoughtfully.

“I was being metaphorical,” I tease.

He just shakes his head at me, still holding my hand. I look down at our hands, almost admiring the sight. He pulls my hand up, and gently presses his lips to my hand.

I flush, but I let him keep my hand, even as the waiter comes back. Even as the waiter shows us to our seat. Even as we sit down across from each other.

He lets go only when we get our menus, and only then because the menus are quite large. I look over the menu, wondering if there’s something simple to eat.

He looks over at me, probably noticing my furrowed expression. “Here, try this page. This stuff will be more towards your tastes.”

I turn to the page he indicates, mumbling in excitement at the choices before me. He smiles in amusement before turning back to his own menu.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of happy conversation, nice food, and cautious glances between us. When we’re done, we stop at the nearest grocery store, picking up another week’s worth of supplies for the dorm kitchen.

We walk outside to the car. He hands me his grocery bags so he can unlock it. He pops the trunk, and reaches for a few of the bags.

“These are mine,” he says as he takes them. As he reaches for the next set, he adds, “And these are mine.”

He takes the last of the bags, closing the trunk. He then takes my hand, and says, “And this is mine.”

My face burns more than it would if he had just lit on fire, but I’m grinning like an idiot at the flirtiness of that line. I can’t say anything at the moment, but I giggle.

“That’s cute,” he tells me, then leans in. “Do it again.”

I can’t help it. I giggle again, covering my mouth with my free hand.

He pulls away, laughing quietly as well. “Too bad I was a coward and didn’t say anything earlier. I would have been able to hear you... giggle... beforehand.”

We both get in the car, and he drives me back to the UA gate. He lets me out, but he stays in the car. He rolls the window down.

“My old man told me I have to bring the car back tonight, so I’m just dropping you off right now,” he explains. “Can you come here?”

I walk up to him quizzically. “Yes?”

He pulls me towards him, and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. It’s only a second or two at the most, but somehow it feels like longer. He pulls away.

“Sorry if I caught you off guard, Evie,” he says, looking at the steering wheel. “You’ve been so cute and precious all evening. I probably should have asked before.” He sighs. “I’ve heard you talk about stuff like that.”

“Shoto,” I stop him, laying my hand on his arm. He looks up at me, and I kiss him again. I pull away. “I don’t mind if you kiss me. We both agreed to date each other, and if that entails kissing, then I’m okay with you kissing me. I’m yours, after all.”

He smiles at me, whispering, “Thank you.” The window rolls up, and the car pulls away.

I watch it go, knowing he’ll be back, but still treasuring the moment.

I walk inside, noting that it is still early in the evening, and wondering what else could possibly top what’s already happened.

-End-

[unknown-terrain]

are u going to watch house of dragon? could it be another big hit like game of thrones? what do you think?

Hahaha hell to the no I won’t be watching! First of all, I don’t care about Targs and most importantly we all know HBO can’t be trusted with GRRM’s material even if he is involved.

As for House of Dragon being a success....we’ll have to wait and see but so far I don’t really see much enthusiasm for it. Yes, HBO and their minions are hyping the hell out of it but seems like the casuals haven’t quite latched on to it like you’d think. The main cast announcements didn’t help either lol. I could see the show breaking HBO viewership records in it’s premiere episode but it remains to be seen if they’ll be able to maintain an audience. Regardless of what you feel about Daenerys, she’s still the most popular and beloved character to come out of GoT and I’m sure is the reason HBO decided to greenlight HoD.

I just think it’s funny how before S8 aired, HBO had all these Game of Thrones prequels lined up and then they ended up cancelling all of them due to the unpopularity of S8. The one with Naomi Watts which was about the origin of the Others and was going to feature ancestors of Starks and Lannisters was cancelled because of S8 and pretty much people not giving af about the Others origin story after they were embarrassingly ended by Arya. Also can’t forget about the backlash against the Stark and Lannister endings in S8 which made those fanbases dwindle and HBO saw they weren’t gonna be able to make a profit from that so I’m not surprised HBO decided to go with the show whose characters are related to their biggest cash cow aka Daenerys and Dragons. People fell in love with Emilia Clarke though don’t know just yet if the audience will warm up to the new people in the same way when the show starts. Anywho, I’m not a Dany fan. I was invested in her story in season 1 only but then I stopped caring because Brienne came into my life.

Speaking of my girl BriBri here’s another factoid...the HoD showrunner said he originally wanted to do a Dunk and Egg series and HBO approved it but GRRM didn’t because he hasn’t finished the series. Guess he learned his lesson after GoT lmao. Anyways, I am so happy and relieved HBO won’t have a chance to fuck up the story of Brienne’s great grand daddy oh and Jaime’s great grand mama too.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Glass Coughs

(Apart of the possible mini series where Anna moves in with the ladies in waiting)

TW: Themes of depression, implied self harm

———————

Some days, Anna knows, Bessie can’t get up.

Bessie, who’s usually so headstrong, strong, spitfire, can’t get up some days.

She will lie in bed and just…lay on her side, not looking at anything but the sheets around her and the pillow next to her, curled up in a small ball and wide awake but unable to lift her head. She just stares and stares and stares and sometimes it looks like she’s dead and Anna wonders if that’s what she’s going for.

A corpse. That’s what Bessie looks like.

Anna recognizes it easily enough, now, when it comes, at least when it’s this bad, and knows what to expect. She stays in bed a little longer herself, about half an hour or so, under the covers, making sure to keep close but not quite enough to be touching. Bessie doesn’t like to be crowded, not even by her, on days like this. She’ll flinch away and snap and scratch, and that jars her out of her trance, but it leaves her bristled and in shock for hours. Sometimes she breaks mirrors. Sometimes she pulls her hair out. Sometimes she scratches Maria across the face and leaves a bright red scar across her left eye that lingers for a month because the drummer stepped a little too close to her.

When something like that happens, the mental image of “corpse” is quickly replaced with “bear”. Or maybe her favorite animal, a Tasmanian devil.

(It’s funny that a Tasmanian devil was her favorite animal. Given that the females were trapped in dens by males during mating season and weren’t allowed to leave until pregnancy was ensured.)

Anna makes sure to hum a little, even if it’s a bit off-key sometimes. It helps, Bessie told her once- helps her not get trapped in her thoughts too deeply.

Anna knows that after an hour and a bit, she won’t be helping anymore and she has to get out of bed or Bessie will feel guilty about it later, even if she won’t say anything. She knows not to rip off the sheets and probe her into getting up like He used to. She knows that, even though Bessie might not respond, she still appreciates the light kiss on her cheek and Anna talking to her idly as she gets dressed as if she is. Sometimes, if Anna is lucky, Bessie will manage a small, short smile in response.

By the time Anna is in the kitchen, it will probably be around 10:30. She’s making her breakfast in the hopes that the smell of fried eggs and bacon will manage to get Bessie out of bed. It’s worked twice before, so you never know, and she always makes extra.

She knows not to try bringing a plate to Bessie, though, because that makes Bessie feel guilty too, and she might leave it and let it grow cold before she can get up which also doesn’t help. And she knows not to force Bessie out of bed like that either.

Sometimes, she knows, she just has to rest.

But she also knows that sometimes just leaving her be is worse, makes the heaviness and emptiness grow, that Bessie, sometimes, needs a hand, even when she doesn’t say so (especially then.) Usually, around 2 or 2:30 is when Anna starts to get really worried.

She eats what she can of breakfast before leaving it to the other ladies in waiting to finish, which they will, of course. Then she goes out shopping to try and clear her head- thank god there was no show today. She didn’t want Bessie to force herself to perform, especially when a few of the songs make her uneasy and how she hates hearing about Him and how They get chances to be seen and loved but she couldn’t.

(Those thoughts scratched and scratched and scratched at Bessie’s mind and that just fed the guilt that held her by the throat. Sometimes Anna worries about it becoming to much and it completely hounds her until she’s nothing but pale strips of mangled flesh and red blood and pink shredded muscle and crimson gore.)

By the time she’s back, she has a small carrier bag of goods and it’s around 1:30. Anna drops off most of the stuff in the dining room, hearing Maggie and Maria going to snoop as they do, and hurries off to check on her girlfriend, knocking three times before entering the bedroom.

“Hey,” She says, taking off her jacket. “I was just out shopping.”

Bessie is still in bed, cocooned in the covers, but she does look up blearily from lying face-down, so Anna counts it as a little win.

“I bought a bunch of stuff,” She continues, coming to sit at the foot of the bed. “Pastries, obviously. I feel like Maggie keeps finishing them for some reason. More toilet roll. Oranges. Milk. Hot chocolate powder.”

It’s a pretty ordinary list, nothing exciting to be honest, but, eventually, Bessie’s head emerges fully and she blinks before her dull, but beautiful blue eyes finally focus on Anna.

“There’s my pretty princess,” Anna coos, smiling lovingly. She so badly wanted to kiss Bessie soft, pale lips or caress her flushed cheeks or at least stroke her unruly hair, but she knew better than to touch during moments like this. “How are you feeling?”

Bessie’s eyes move from Anna’s gaze to the crumpled blankets she’s been laying under all day. Her hands clench in the fabric and Anna knows she’s getting worked up with guilt.

“Hey, hey,” Anna scoots closer and dares to brush Bessie’s knuckles. “It’s alright. You’re okay.”

Bessie’s eyes squint slightly, eyebrows lowering and knitting together like dark thunder clouds. She stays rooted in that position for a long time and Anna finally stands up and began to go through her drawers.

“Think you can switch shirts for me?” Anna asks. “You’ve been wearing that one for three days now.”

Bessie looked down at her shirt, which was soaked with her own sadness. It was just a plain grey piece of fabric, yet it hid so much.

“Come on, baby,” Anna murmurs, walking back over. She has a shirt slung over her arm- Bessie can’t really read what it says, she just knows it’s purple. “Then you can go back to sleeping.”

Bessie didn’t move for a moment, then nodded ever so slightly and clambered out of the bed. She went for the door for some reason and Anna understood what she was doing.

Bessie is still quiet when she gets up, finally, trailing behind Anna a little like a ghost, though Anna doesn’t mind, certainly not when Bessie silently tugs at her sleeve and they hold hands on the short trek to the bathroom.

As the bathtub fills with nice, hot water, Anna shows Bessie an assortment of bath bombs she had indulgently bought while out on the shops. She mused about some that Kitty had liked and recommended back when she was living with the queens, but quickly shut her mouth. Bessie didn’t like when she brought up her past residence when she was like this- it was another thing among many that made her feel terribly guilty.

However, when she turned to see if Bessie has finally succumbed to that overbearing sensation thanks to her stupid comment, she just found her girlfriend sitting on the toilet seat, studying a galaxy themed bath bomb. It black on the outside but all rainbows and glitter on the inside.

Just like Bessie, Anna thinks privately.

“Good pick,” Anna smiles.

Bessie just barely managed a crack of her own smile.

The bath is hot, and both of them watch as the bath bomb is dropped in and begins to fizz, tiny bubbles of color rising up and gathering into a frothy foam and staining the water pink and purple and midnight blue, sparkles of gold suspended throughout the multicolored mess.

Anna helps Bessie get undressed and in the tub before going to fetch her a cup of tea and some toast, too, because she hasn’t eaten all day, even though she knows Bessie probably still doesn’t feel hungry.

When she returns, Bessie is just staring dejectedly at the whorls of color water encompassing the bottom half of her body. Silent tears are dripping down her cheeks but she doesn’t make a sound- no sniffles, no gulps of air, no whimpers. Not even her shoulders were shaking.

Even with the dark colors dyeing the water, there’s definitely a red tint that wasn’t there before. Anna sees it, but doesn’t acknowledge it.

“Hey, princess,” Anna purrs. She sat down beside the bathtub, making sure to keep her gaze up. Bessie was finally starting to let her keep her eyes open when she was naked and she really didn’t want to lose that privilege. “I made some tea. It’s your favorite. The raspberry kind.”

Bessie nodded. She lifted one hand and wiped her cheeks.

“Also some toast.”

God, she wanted Bessie to eat so badly. The way her ribs were poking out of her flesh was absolutely worrying. No fault of the bassist’s- it was the lasting effects of dying from the white plague.

(She still remembered watching as Bessie grew thinner and thinner the days she worked as her lady in waiting. She remembered how very pale and delirious she was. How she coughed blood all over her sewing station.)

(They say when she died she wasn’t even ninety pounds.)

Bessie nodded again. Her eyes are still cast down. She takes a sip of the tea and then just holds it in her hands, staring down into the saucer of dark liquid.

“I’m going to wash your hair, alright?” Anna says. “Is that okay?”

Bessie placed the mug back on the toilet seat and nodded.

“Take a deep breath, my darling. I’m going to dunk you under really quick.”

Bessie obeyed. Anna caught a glimpse of a fresh cut on her sunken in, already-scathed stomach when she gently presses her back into the water.

Now she know what the lump against her knee under the fuzzy shower mat was.

Bessie inhales sharply, almost gasping when she’s brought back up. Her eyes are wide for a moment before dulling back down. Anna assures her she’s alright.

Anna began to massage coconut-smelling shampoo into her girlfriend’s messy, greasy hair. She gently raked her nails against her scalp, something Bessie usually enjoyed when they would bathe together. It seemed to help some, as Bessie was definitely pressing her head into her hands. She smiled softly.

“Soap isn’t getting in your pretty eyes, right?”

Bessie nodded.

“Good.” Anna pressed a quick kiss to the back of her girlfriend’s neck, causing Bessie to shudder slightly. “I’m going to put you back under now, alright?”

Another silent nod.

Fifteen more minutes are spent in the bathroom. Anna talks softly to Bessie, grounding her. She washes her hair and towels down her body with a rag and some soap, then helps her out of the bathtub and into fresh clothes. The cut has stopped bleeding when she glanced at it, luckily.

“Anna,”

The word is so soft, so weak, so strangled.

“Yes, darling?” Anna gently cups Bessie’s cheeks. “I’m right here.”

Bessie’s hands are shaking when she grips Anna’s sleeves. Tears are rolling down her face again.

“I love you,” She croaks. She’s blushing because that phrase will never fail to make her flustered. “I love you so much...”

“Oh, baby...” Anna wrapped Bessie up securely in her arms and began to sway her gently. “I love you, too, princess. I love you so so so much. And I will never stop loving you. Ever.”

Bessie hiccuped weakly. Despite being in bed all day, it was clear she was exhausted. Probably from holding everything in for so long.

“P-promise?” She chokes out.

Anna didn’t even hesitate.

“I promise.”

Some days, Anna knows, Bessie can’t get up, and that’s okay.