#he's still affected by others' talk though ;~; (grandparents used to call him the wrong name and such

[dootznbootz]

Thinking about how Telemachus has heard "You are just like your father" by so many people for most of his life. How different yet refreshing it is to hear said father tell him warmly "You're so much like your mother".

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Synopsis: Tabito Karasu has been in love with you for almost as long as he can remember. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like you have any intentions of reciprocating, considering you’ve only ever seen him as a child — and, more importantly, as your best friend’s little brother.

BLLK Masterlist | Part One | Otoya Version

Pairing: Karasu x Reader

Total Word Count: 41.6k

Content Warnings: reader is older than karasu (by like two years so it’s nbd but it exists), no blue lock au, bratty baby karasu, jealous karasu, slow burn, childhood friends, i have no idea how to write kids just deal w it, karasu’s older sister is given a name (look at that word count LMAO i’m not calling her ‘karasu’s older sister’ the entire time), reader gets drunk at one point, karasu the goat of pining, yukimiya and otoya mentions ⁉️

A/N: yes this is inspired by the song “best friend’s brother” from victorious but has barely anything to do with it. yes this is probably the longest karasu fic you will ever read as of its publishing date (word count is not a typo it fr is that long). yes reader and karasu are fuck ass little kids for half of the fic. i have nothing to say for myself except that i love karasu so much and i cannot be stopped…also tumblr is an opp so i had to split this into two parts EEK i’m sorry!!

Tokyo was exactly as you remembered it. Both of your parents had been raised there, and so you had visited frequently when you were younger. You had fond memories of staying there with both sets of your grandparents before they had all, in turn, decided to move to calmer parts of the country, places which were not as frenetic and vibrant as the capital. After they had left, your family had had little reason to go back, so it had been some years since you had last made the trip, but in a way this move was just another kind of homecoming, for the chaos of the massive city was as familiar to you as the peace of your neighborhood.

“Everyone here talks like your parents,” Yayoi told you, the first day you both were able to meet up after you had moved. Your classes had not yet begun, but you were both finally unpacked and oriented in your new lives, so you had taken advantage of the last bits of free time you might have for a while to see one another. “It’s kind of funny.”

“Right?” you said. You had never fully adopted the accent of your home region, for you had been raised by a family which still spoke as if they were in Tokyo, but regardless it was strange to hear people other than your parents speaking in that way without affectation.

“Sometimes I end up saying the wrong thing and confusing people, but they figure out pretty quickly that it’s just the dialect I speak with, and then they ask for clarification if needed,” she said. “So I haven’t run into any major miscommunication problems yet, thankfully.”

“That’s good,” you said. “Are you excited to start classes?”

“Well, excited isn't exactly the word I’d use for it,” she said wryly. “Even if I’m the one who chose the subject, it’s still going to be a lot of work.”

“A ton of it,” you said, making a face. “You’re lucky, though. Your term doesn’t start for another week.”

“Well, it also ends a week later, so that doesn’t mean anything,” she said, sipping on the last few drops of her coffee — which she always ordered black, not because she liked it that way but because she was trying to keep up appearances and whatnot. “What about you?”

“I think classes and all will be a good distraction. It’ll be nice to have something to keep myself busy,” you said.

“What do you need to be distracted from?” she said.

“Just homesickness and stuff. The typical things you’d expect,” you said. She hummed sympathetically.

“I get it,” she said. “I miss my parents like crazy sometimes, especially when I need help with random stuff. The other day, I had to video call my mother so she could explain how to clean a cast iron pan.”

“You could’ve looked that up,” you said.

“Yeah, but it was nicer to hear it from her,” she said.

“Yeah,” you echoed, because it was the same for you. You often found yourself calling your parents for no reason at all, asking them stupid questions just to listen to them talk. “I’m glad to be on my own, but I do miss my mother and father a lot.”

“Anyone else?” she said.

“What do you mean?” you said.

“Just wondering,” she said. “You know, come to think of it, you were kind of late coming to your seat. Freaked your parents out beyond belief. Any reason in particular?”

“I was just talking to Tabito,” you said. “Saying bye and all.”

“Are you going to miss him?” she prodded.

“Obviously. At this point, he’s like my brother, too. Isn’t it natural to miss your siblings?” you said.

“I don’t,” she said, though she immediately burst into laughter, which somewhat contradicted the statement.

“You’re horrible,” you said. “I know you do.”

“I do,” she affirmed. “But I think it’s in a different way than you do. It’s odd, because I’m the one who’s actually related to him, but the truth is that you two have always been closer than he and I ever were.”

“Probably because I’m not a jerk like you are,” you said.

“How can you consider yourself his additional older sister when you’re so nice to him? You need to bully him a bit more to earn that distinction,” she said.

“He hears enough of it out of you,” you said.

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that,” she said, holding up her paper cup and raising it to her lips, though you knew it was empty by now. You clinked your own against hers and finished the last remnants of your drink in one gulp. “You know, Y/N, I think you’re irreplaceable at this point.”

“You, too,” you said. “I’ll never be friends with anyone the way I am with you.”

“Fuck whoever we meet in college,” she said, nodding in approval. “I’m sure they’ll be cool and all, but the two of us, we hardly even count as friends anymore. It’s like we’re something more.”

“Exactly,” you said. “I can have a million more best friends, and likely I will, but never again will I have another Yayoi Karasu.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said. “Not for a moment.”

Your first year of college flew past in the blink of an eye. On the whole, you preferred it to high school, even though there were aspects of the past you still held dear, seeped with nostalgia as they were. You made new friends, as did Yayoi, but just like you both had predicted, none of them measured up to each other. Still, it was fun to meet people from all different regions in the country and to hear about their lives. Some of your classmates weren’t even from Japan at all, and there was another layer of fascination there, learning about the ways of other nations, the cultures and foods they were accustomed to, and teaching them about your own in exchange.

Your mid term breaks were a bit shorter than Yayoi’s, which meant you weren’t ever able to justify visiting home, but in return, you had much longer in between years, so while Yayoi was still stressing over her finals, you were already taking the train back to the station by your house, texting your parents all the while.

In your absence, your childhood room had remained untouched, the stuffed animals arranged on your bed in the exact order you preferred, the books still stacked on the shelves, your artwork and photos of you with your friends hanging on the walls where you had put them. Time felt frozen, and it was as if you had never left, as if your entire year in Tokyo had been a dream and this had always been the reality.

After eating dinner with your parents, you showered and changed into one of your father’s old shirts and a pair of sweatpants, flopping face-first onto your bed and taking a deep breath, already feeling yourself nodding off despite the fact that it wasn’t that late. Traveling always exhausted you, however, and it was all you could do to turn your lights off and crawl under the covers, plugging your phone in to charge as you drifted off.

Right when you were about to fall asleep for good, your phone’s screen blazed to life, startling you awake as it vibrated urgently. Groaning and cursing whoever was calling you, you glared at the device until you realized exactly who it was, and then your unhappiness was promptly replaced with glee as you clicked on the green answer button.

“Tabito!” you said. Although you had texted with him every now and then, you were ashamed to admit that you hadn’t spoken to him as much as you should’ve. You reasoned that he had had equal opportunity to reach out first and hadn’t, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was a feeble excuse that was only meant to deflect the blame from yourself and nothing more.

“Y/N,” he said. His voice was deeper than you remembered, and more resonant, too, lilting with a husky, full-bodied musicality that hadn’t been there when you had left. “Hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him. “What’s up?”

“Do you remember — sorry, this is really stupid, so don’t feel bad for saying no,” he said.

“It’s okay. I’ve definitely seen you do way stupider things,” you said. He chuckled.

“You’re probably right. Here goes, then. Um, do you remember when you went to my first soccer game in middle school, and afterwards, we agreed you wouldn’t come to another until I was the captain of a really good high school team?” he said.

“I think so, why?” you said. A second later, it hit you, and you gasped, beaming so widely that your face ached. “No way! For Bambi Osaka? Since when?”

“Yup, for Bambi Osaka. The old captain just graduated, and he named me as his replacement today, so, uh, since today, I guess,” he said.

“I wish you would’ve told me in person so you could see how much I’m smiling right now,” you said. “Congratulations, Tabito! You can’t begin to know how proud I am of you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Anyways, our first game is this Thursday, so…”

“Huh? Did you want me to come?” you said. “Yayoi won’t be back from Tokyo by then, though. Shouldn’t I wait for her?”

“If you’d prefer that,” he said. “Or, I mean, you don’t have to go at all. I was just offering in case you were interested, but no hard feelings if not.”

Since when had he been so awkward with you? Since when had he stumbled over his words and been so unsure? You frowned at the mere chance that there was more than a physical distance between the two of you, even if it probably was the case, despite how much you had never wanted such an event to occur.

“As long as you want me, I’ll be there. I don’t have much else to do anyways, right? And how could I miss your first game as captain? Let me know where and when, and I’ll definitely come,” you said. He exhaled softly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I want you there. I’ll let you know the details, but like I said, no pressure. Don’t force yourself. Come if you can.”

It was springtime, and the world was still remembering how to come alive, peeking out its head from the den of winter and blinking its sleepy eyes against the sun. There were not any flowers in bloom quite yet, but as far as the eye could see were buds on the precipice of rupturing, the pale undersides of their petals mere imitations of the hues they’d soon display proudly. The birds still warmed eggs in nests made of twigs and twine, but already there were cracks in a few of the creamy shells; here and there, even, little yellow beaks could be seen reaching towards the sky and chittering incessant demands at their parents.

You were lazy as you pedaled your bike down the side streets leading towards the field where the match was being held. It was an away game, technically, but this worked out better for you, as the high school they were playing at was closer to your house than the Bambi Osaka stadium, which was far enough that you would’ve needed to take a taxi.

According to Tabito, the game was actually more of a scrimmage, as they were playing a local school’s soccer club instead of another organization’s youth team, as they did in serious matches. Apparently, this was by design, as it gave their coach the opportunity to test Tabito's skills at being a captain in a low-stakes, low-pressure environment. If he proved himself incapable, the coach would override the previous captain’s pick and name another member of the team to the position, but if he played as well as he always did, and managed to coordinate the rest of the players in a satisfactory manner, then he’d be given the position permanently.

You had reminded him that this meant he technically wasn’t the captain yet, but to this he had said that he had the title and the armband, and if anything, since that was the situation, he needed you there more than ever. After all, he had explained, you had been in the audience when he had scored the winning goal in his first game for his middle school’s team. You were good luck for him. If you were in the crowd, then there was no way he could lose.

Parking your bike in the lot alongside the others, you locked it and then made your way towards the entrance to the stadium, the ticket Tabito had sent you in between your index and middle fingers. Even though there wouldn’t be very many people attending this game, it was Bambi Osaka’s policy to require tickets for entry to any of their matches, and the price if you weren’t associated with a player was, you heard, quite hefty.

You sat by yourself in the stands, your purse beside you and your legs crossed at the ankles. You couldn’t explain why, but there was a doubt in the back of your mind about whether you even belonged in the audience at all. Without Yayoi at your side, it felt like there was a neon sign in the air pointing at you and declaring you inept and unwelcome. Everyone else was buzzing with theories and predictions for the upcoming game, tossing out the names of the players and their opinions on them, but you were by yourself, without even a drink to warm your hands.

The gray of that isolation evaporated the moment that the Bambi Osaka boys took to the field, led by none other than Tabito. You were suddenly reminded that you weren’t just allowed to be there — you were wanted, genuinely wanted, and so you had as much if not more of a claim to your seat than anyone else could. Tabito had invited you. He could’ve invited anyone else in the entire city, but still he had invited you, and you would not tarnish that by thinking you were alone when he was there, as he always was.

As was to be expected, there was a complete difference to the way Tabito played when compared to that very first game of his which you had watched. For one, he was at the front of the field instead of in the middle, and there was an impertinence to the way he shook the hand of the opposing captain, an audacious smirk on his face which was visible even from the distance. This was a side of Tabito you weren’t so acquainted with, a side which was brazen and self-assured and stood as if he had already won before the referee even blew the whistle to begin.

The game moved faster than you could keep up with, and without Yayoi there to give you a play-by-play, you found yourself utterly lost about the finer details of the match. Still, even you could tell that Bambi Osaka was in the lead, and by no small margin — largely in part thanks to the combined skills of Tabito and a slender, pale-haired boy whose jersey read Hiori.

When Tabito was younger, there had been a desperate, vicious quality to his soccer, as if he really might die should he lose. It was in direct contrast to now, where he toyed with the opposite team in much the same way a cat would toy with a ball of yarn — with a distinct sense of superiority, like he was looking down on them even as he forced his way past, not giving them any other choice but to watch as he drove his way down the field.

“Is number 10 the new captain?” a boy behind you said. He sounded younger; maybe he had an older brother on one of the teams, or maybe he was just that supportive of Bambi Osaka. You didn’t turn, but you did tune into the conversation, wondering what they’d say about Tabito.

“Karasu? Yes, he is,” a slightly older boy said. “My brother said he’s a real asshole, but he’s a great guy when it counts. They’re all happy he’s the one who was recommended for the spot.”

“He’s so good,” the younger boy said. “And Hiori, as well. They’re both amazing.”

“Hiori’s only a first year, too. I bet he’s going to go far,” the older boy said. “Now shush, quit distracting me. I’m trying to watch the game.”

To no one’s surprise, Bambi Osaka won by a ridiculous amount of goals, and as Tabito shook hands with the school’s captain again, you noticed their coach nodding in approval, annotating something on his clipboard with a satisfied smile on his face. You waited until all of them had vanished into the locker rooms to head to the exit and wait by your bike for Tabito to join you.

About twenty minutes later, he and the rest of the team trickled out, discussing their game and the plans for the next one. At first it seemed like he had not noticed you, absorbed in conversation as he was, but it quickly became evident that he had, for he skillfully guided the others towards where you stood, never faltering in words nor steps until he reached you. Then he paused, schooling his expression into one of shock, his eyebrows raising and his lips parting as if he had happened upon you entirely by accident. It was an amusing bit of theatrics, albeit realistic to anyone who did not know his mannerisms as well as you did.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, all composed and airy and dispassionate, as if it were mere coincidence that the two of you had met at that moment, as if it hardly mattered to him that you were there. It might’ve fooled another person, but not once in his life had he been able to fool you, and he certainly wouldn’t start today.

He must’ve showered in the locker rooms, for his hair fell loose and silky around his face instead of styled back as it typically was, and when you hugged him — which was met a reflexive return of his arms around your body before he could even manage to yelp in surprise — you could smell the faint, pleasant scent of his soap which still clung to his skin.

“Hi,” you said, holding onto him for as long as you deemed publicly appropriate before wriggling free and smiling at him. “I think you did good. Without Yayoi, I couldn’t be sure, but to me you looked great.”

“Eh,” he said. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been better. But thanks.”

“Woah, Karasu,” one of his teammates said. He was a tall and burly player who reminded you vaguely of Aoyama, and he accompanied the exclamation by wrapping one arm around Tabito in a friendly headlock and using his free hand to ruffle the boy’s damp hair, leaving him to resemble a sea urchin. “You didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful girlfriend! Hello, ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Get off of me,” Tabito wheezed, slapping his teammate away. “You fuckface, I’m going to kill you. Don’t try to shake her hand!”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” you said, accepting his teammate’s proffered hand. “Just best friends with his older sister. You can think of me as a stand-in for her while she’s finishing up her first year in Tokyo. My name’s Y/N, by the way.”

“Ah, you’re that Y/N!” he said.

“I believe I am? What does that mean?” you said.

“Nothing bad,” Tabito cut in. “Yayoi’s come to a few games and mentioned you, so everyone’s been wanting to meet you.”

“It’s true. I mean, a girl who refused to come to a game until and unless Karasu was made captain? We all thought you must be something intense,” his teammate said. “You seem pretty normal, though. And also super hot, if you don’t mind me mentioning.”

“Well, he’s the one who told me not to come, so if anyone’s intense, it’s him,” you said. “And, uh, thanks? I guess?”

“I mind you mentioning, so shut the hell up,” Tabito said, finally breaking free of his teammate’s hold and shoving him away from you. “Sorry about this one, Y/N. He’s incorrigible.”

His teammate laughed raucously. “My fault, my fault. Sorry, Karasu.”

“Say sorry to her,” Tabito said. “She’s the one you were bothering.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. “Really, I don’t mind the compliment. Even if it could’ve been phrased better.”

“Anything for you, gorgeous lady,” his teammate said with a wink. “But, ah, considering I value my life and limbs, I think I’m going to head out now, as our new captain seems about a few seconds away from murdering me. See you around!”

He ran away to rejoin the rest of the Bambi Osaka boys as they all headed in their separate directions towards their homes, leaving you and Tabito alone once more. As soon as they were all gone, he sighed, that put-upon countenance he had maintained for the entirety of the conversation falling apart in an instant.

“I didn’t think he’d say all of that,” he said. “Sorry again.”

“You worry so much,” you said. “Come on, you just won another match, didn’t you? That’s cause to celebrate, so don’t look so tired and mopey.”

“I don’t look tired and mopey!” he defended. “This is just how my face is!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you said, unlocking your bike and beginning to walk it beside you so you could keep talking to him. “I seem to remember your face being quite a bit rounder and sunnier. Now you’re all angles and doom and gloom.”

“That’s not something I can help,” he said, taking your bike from you so he could walk it instead. “Y/N, you’re being mean. I haven’t seen you in so long and now you’re acting like Yayoi.”

“You think I’m acting like Yayoi? I’m hurt,” you said. “Okay, then, you sensitive captain. How about we go get ice cream? My treat, since you got the position and all.”

“Okay,” he said. “But it’ll be my treat, not yours, because you came to my game and stayed the whole time. It was your good luck that helped me in the end.”

“Offering to pay for me? I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, so I’ll allow it this time. Anyways, I would’ve had to, because I just realized I left my wallet at home,” you said.

“Almost like you did that on purpose,” he mused, bumping your shoulder with his. “Was that your plan all along? Suggesting we get ice cream but forgetting to bring any money, so I had to cover for us both?”

“I see why your team members think you’re an asshole,” you said. “It’s a surprise, to be sure, but then again, maybe I should’ve seen it coming.”

“Who’s calling me an asshole?” he said. “How did you know that? I’m not! Whoever it is, they were making things up, because I’m — I’m super nice! Seriously, where did you hear that? Stop giggling and answer me!”

You extended your arm to run your fingers through his mussed up hair, smoothing it down as best as you could. “A magician never tells her secrets. Don’t worry about it and just tell me which flavor you’re getting.”

“The same as always, why?” he said.

“I want to decide whether I should steal some of it or not,” you said.

“You don’t have to steal it. I’ll share if you want some,” he said.

“It’s better if I’m doing something wrong. I think it adds to the flavor, or enhances it, or something,” you said. He considered this before nodding with the utmost of gravity.

“If that’s how it is, then you’re absolutely not allowed to even look at my ice cream. I’ll be, uh, super mad if you do,” he said, his glare so fearsome and dark that it skipped the realms of intimidation and landed squarely in the land of comedy.

“You’re the best,” you said.

“I do what I can,” he said. “Will you let me have some of yours?”

“Hm,” you said. “Fine, but only because I love you so much.”

He fought back a smile at that, staring directly ahead, the tendons of his hands flexing on the handlebars of your bike as you continued to walk along the empty sidewalk, the glowing sun in the distance a reminder of the many days exactly like this which you still had left to spend.

The break flew by so quickly it was almost more of a punishment than anything. About as soon as you had gotten settled back into a rhythm of spending your days with the Karasus and your evenings with your parents, it was time for you and Yayoi to return to Tokyo for your second year of college, as well as for Tabito to enter his final year of high school.

You took for granted that you would be back as soon as the first term ended, so when you boarded the train to Tokyo, you didn’t take the time to properly appreciate the place where you had grown up. The city where you had whiled away your idyllic childhood…you had considered it a guarantee that you’d return soon, so why would you linger? But a couple of weeks into your first term, you got news from your parents: your father’s job had, almost out of the blue, transferred him, and so they would be moving to nearby Kawasaki by the end of the month.

There was definitely a pro to having your parents at that distance — they were close enough that you could visit them whenever you wanted to, but far enough that you could justify not going if you were so inclined, and removed enough that your life still belonged to you and only you. Still, it was a little like having a rug pulled out from under you when you weren’t even aware you were standing on a rug in the first place; especially because you could not so much as help in the moving process, given that you were stuck at school and could make no excuse to go back home for such a long time.

The house they found in Kawasaki was in a good area, and though it was smaller than your old one, it was still airy and bright, with large windows and wooden floors and enough bedrooms that you could still have your own despite not living there full-time anymore. Your parents were actually glad for the reduced size, for it meant less emptiness, less cleaning to be done in places that never even got used or looked at.

When you went to visit during the first term break, it seemed like they really were happy there. Or perhaps they were just trying to convince you that this was for the best, that you should not be sad, but if that was so, then they shouldn’t have bothered. You were the one who had left first, who had gone to Tokyo to study and work. Of course it was more abrupt and final than you had wanted, but hadn’t this day always been looming on the horizon? Eventually, you would’ve stopped visiting so frequently, if at all. There was no reason to mourn the occurrence of an inevitability.

Besides the drama of your parents’ move, your second year was uneventful. You made even more friends than you had in your first year, and you still saw Yayoi as much as you could, although it was more difficult for the time being. Luckily, at this point you two had the kind of friendship wherein you picked up as if you had never been apart whenever you reunited, so you at least had that one constant in what sometimes felt like an ever-shifting life.

Around the time that your finals began, you received a text from Tabito, written in a formal language that was nothing like the messages full of abbreviations and emoticons that he generally sent you.

‘Hi, Y/N. I hope you’re doing well, and that your second year in university didn’t give you too much difficulty. I’m just reaching out to let you know that my graduation is next Friday. The ceremony starts at 6:30 in the evening, and I managed to reserve you a spot. The address and information is on the ticket — if you’re able to come, then I’d really appreciate it, but if not, then that’s totally okay. I just thought I should let you know.’

You stared at your phone, a sinking feeling in your stomach. No matter how much you wanted to go, you couldn’t. There were too many factors against it, and you felt horrible as you typed out your response. Any way you went about it came across as too harsh, but then again, was there even a gentle way to reject someone when they had come to you with something so important?

‘tabito!! i can’t believe you’re graduating already, wow!! i really would like to come, but i have a final that friday in the afternoon :( plus i don’t know if you heard or not but my family moved to kawasaki, so i wouldn’t really have anywhere to stay. thank you so much for inviting me though!! i’ll get yayoi to bring a cardboard cutout of me to put in my seat or something LOL. it’ll be just like the real thing!!!’

He responded almost immediately, and despite the effort he must’ve made to sound unaffected, he was obviously disappointed by the turn of events, his efforts at cheer only further highlighting that fact.

‘It’s okay, really! And thank you. Haha yes a Y/N cutout will have to be good enough then. Good luck on your final!’

The rest of the week, the unopened file from Tabito, which sat in your email inbox, tantalized you, and you found yourself obsessively checking the schedule of trains leaving Tokyo. There was one back to your hometown that would depart an hour after your exam was scheduled to end, and you refreshed it constantly, waiting to see if tickets would sell out. Once they were gone, it would give you an excuse not to buy them, but to your frustration, they never did.

You would have to run, and even then it wasn’t a guarantee you would make it, to the train or the graduation, but it was the best chance you had, and with every passing moment, it began to sound like more and more of a viable option.

On Thursday evening, when you once again checked the ticket site and noticed there were open seats, you bit your tongue to stop yourself from swearing, and then you entered your credit card information into the prompt. A minute later, you got a confirmation email, letting you know that your seat was booked for the next day. Burying your face in your hands, you inhaled deeply, vowing not to tell Tabito in case he got his hopes up for nothing. Breathing in and out through your nose once more, you straightened your back and opened up your textbook, returning to studying with a renewed vigor borne of the adrenaline rush which resulted from the impulsive decision.

If your professor found it odd that you came to the exam hall in formal clothes, with your hair done and an overnight bag over your shoulder, she did not say anything, only motioning for you to put your bag with the others and then handing you your paper.

Thankfully, you had studied through the year, and this exam was for one of your easier subjects, so it was a relative breeze. You finished with time to spare, leaving the hall with your things and walking to the train station without any worries except for what would happen once you reached your end destination.

The train ride was longer than you remembered, and by the time you were disembarking at the station closest to Tabito’s high school, it was already 6:00. You sprinted through the platform, calling out apologies as you ran into people or elbowed them out of the way, trying to get to the taxi area before anyone else could claim all of the available vehicles.

“Stop!” you shouted when the singular remaining taxi prepared to drive off to a different pick-up location. You must’ve looked a sight, chasing after a taxi by the train station, wearing a dress and heels, stumbling over your feet with your arm outstretched. “Hey, sir! Stop!”

By some miracle, he saw you through the rearview mirror and screeched to a halt. You opened the back door and dove in, scribbling down the address on a slip of paper and handing it to him, as was customary. Then, when he input the address into his GPS and accelerated onto the route, you leaned forward.

“Sir, I’ll tip you generously if you can get me there before 6:30,” you said.

“I will do my best, ma’am. Please hold on,” he said. That was all the warning you got before he stepped on the gas pedal, the car taking off at all but twice the speed of the surrounding traffic, leaving you to hold onto your seat as the scenery outside blurred into nothing but a smear of pinks and greens and browns.

He got you there at 6:27, which was too close for comfort but still earlier than should’ve been humanly possible, so you reached into your wallet and pulled out a wad of cash that was certainly more than you owed. Slapping it on the console, you mumbled out a thank you and ran off without waiting for a response, trying your best to remember the directions to the auditorium from the email Tabito had sent you.

“Do you have a ticket, miss?” the security guard waiting at the door to the auditorium said. You reached into your pocket and tried to unlock your phone; your slick fingers typed in the wrong password twice before it finally opened and you could brandish the file. He squinted at it before nodding and opening the door for you. “The ceremony has already begun, so please try not to make too much of a disturbance when you enter.”

Your shins and the balls of your feet ached from how much ground you had covered in your less-than-supportive footwear and the speed at which you had done so. Your shoulder, too, was sore under the strain of your bag, but you ignored these pains, counting down the rows and the seat numbers until you spotted the empty one that belonged to you. Squeezing past the others who had already taken their places, you collapsed in the cushioned chair, a sigh of relief escaping you when you saw that, though the ceremony was already underway, Tabito was still yet to go.

“Oh, hey, Y/N,” Yayoi said absentmindedly, for your seat was naturally beside hers. Then, like she had realized what she had said, her jaw dropped. “Y/N? I thought you couldn’t come!”

“Shh, he’s about to go,” you said. “I’ll explain later.”

If you had hesitated for even a minute at any point, you would’ve missed it, but by the grace of some universal power, you had made it into your seat right as Tabito stepped up to take his diploma. He scanned the crowd, much in the same way he did when he was playing soccer, but sadly instead of sharply, like he was aware that he was about to be disappointed yet knew he had to experience that disappointment first-hand regardless.

His eyes slid over everyone in the audience dismissively, but when they landed upon you, they paused, and though it was too far for you to see, you fancied they must’ve widened the slightest bit. Not enough for anyone else to make anything of it, but enough for you to know.

For an instant, everyone else disappeared. In that auditorium, there was only Tabito on the stage and you in the audience, his diploma slack in his grasp, your breaths still fast and uneven. And although there was a distance, and no small one at that, between you and him, it was as if you were right by his side, as if you could see every single emotion which flickered across his face. Shock. Disbelief. Wonder. Then, finally, a sheer, childish thing which could only be called joy — unabashed and whole and candid joy. He smiled in the way he only did for you, not for anyone else in the entire world, not smug and haughty but shy and sincere, and you could not help but smile as well, raising your hand and waving at him like he always did at you.

He was taken aback, but obviously delighted, and so, as the principal announced his name and read off his accomplishments while with the school, Tabito ignored the praise and the applause, focusing solely on returning your wave with one of his own.

“What are you doing here?” he said, sweeping you into a hug as soon as you had all left the auditorium and he had reunited with his family. “You said you couldn’t come!”

“I was wondering the same thing,” Yayoi said from where she was waiting at your side. “And Tabito, when you’re done showing your clearfavoritism, give me a high-five or something.”

He held onto you for a moment longer before letting go and high-fiving his sister, who was the only one that hadn’t been there for when Mr. and Mrs. Karasu, as well as Tabito and Yayoi’s grandmother, had taken teary eyed photos with him. She had instead stayed with you, telling you that you owed her an explanation and then jumping to another topic of conversation before you could give her one.

“There was a train from Tokyo which left an hour after my exam window ended,” you said. “I know you don’t like surprises, but I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it, so I didn’t want to tell you in advance in case things didn’t work out. As it is, I had to bribe the taxi driver to get me here from the station at highly illegal speeds, and with that, I only made it to the front of the building by 6:27. Honestly, I still can’t believe I got there before you went at all, but I’m so glad I did.”

“Me, too. You’re right that I don’t normally like surprises, but this one, I was really happy about, so it’s an exception,” Tabito said. Now that he was no longer under obligation to hang around with Yayoi, he was back at your side, playing with the zipper of your bag in fascination while you spoke.

“Me, three,” Yayoi said. “He was seriously depressed that you weren’t coming. The house was like a toxic wasteland the entire week. It’s going to be much safer and cleaner now.”

“Toxic wasteland?” you said.

“Yup, and the toxic waste himself is right next to you, so be careful,” she said.

“You’re so dramatic. It wasn’t like that,” Tabito said.

“Sure,” she said. “Yup. Totally wasn’t.”

“Why do you always do this?” he whined.

“Do what?” Yayoi said.

“Try to embarrass me whenever you can!” he said.

“Not like it’s possible for me to embarrass you in front of Y/N out of everyone. You do that all on your own, so there’s no way I can make things worse,” she said.

“Yayoi!” he snapped.

“Onto more pressing subjects,” you interjected before things could worsen. “Um. I do have a slight problem.”

“What is it?” Tabito said.

“I kind of came here on a whim, so I don’t really have anywhere to sleep, exactly,” you said. The siblings exchanged looks before Yayoi rolled her eyes and Tabito grabbed your bag from you.

“You’ll stay with us, of course,” Yayoi said.

“For as long as you want,” Tabito added. “Or as long as you can, actually. That’s better. Don’t leave until you absolutely have to.”

“We can put your bags in the car, and then we have to take pictures,” Yayoi said.

“I didn’t know you cared enough to want to commemorate my graduation,” Tabito said. Yayoi snorted.

“Nah, I just want to commemorate Y/N’s wild journey from Tokyo, and the fact that she magically got here on time. I don’t ever want to forget about that,” she said.

“I’d be offended, but actually, I’m in agreement. I can’t believe you bribed a taxi driver for me,” Tabito said.

“Ah, well, you know,” you said. “I just told him I’d tip him if he could get me there on time, and he did it.”

“You’re crazy,” he said affectionately.

“Totally,” Yayoi agreed.

“And aren’t you grateful for it?” you said, curling your fingers around his wrist and throwing the other arm around Yayoi’s shoulders, causing her to shoot you a mock-dirty look before she made herself comfortable against you.

“Yes,” Tabito said, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks when he lowered them bashfully, that same smile lighting up his face at the sensation of your fingers dancing over his veins. “I really am.”

The world was quite determined not to split you and the Karasus apart for very long. You learned that night that, along with getting into a prestigious college, Tabito had also been selected to join the Japanese U-20 soccer team. In order to balance his academics — he could’ve quit school entirely by this point if he so chose, but he was far too paranoid to not have a second option should his soccer career not take off — with the new demands of the team, he would be living in Tokyo with one of his new teammates, a boy he had never met but was supposedly named something along the lines of Eita Otoya.

His new place was somewhat close to your apartment; close was a subjective word, of course, but to you, when the weather was nice and you were in no rush to be anywhere or do anything, it was a perfectly walkable distance, and you told him you’d definitely show him and Otoya around once they were moved in and had a moment to spare for such a frivolous outing.

Between his practices and the increase in his workload, it seemed like you really might never see Tabito at all, however close you might’ve now been to him physically. Yet somehow, on a warm day at the brink of summer, he texted you asking if the offer was still on the table, and if so, could you please show him and Otoya a place to get good coffee, because the stuff they made with their Keurig machine wasn’t cutting it anymore. You laughed, responding that you’d be delighted to, and that you were free all weekend, with no qualms about dedicating a day solely to them.

Your first impression of Eita Otoya was that, next to Tabito, he had a delicate and pointed appeal to his pretty features. He was smaller than Tabito, and although there wasn’t an ounce of menace in the way he stood, all inviting and open and casual, there was a wolflike canniness to his green irises, which glimmered when he noticed you approaching.

Before Otoya could even say anything, Tabito had covered his mouth with a hand, glaring down at him in a manner which did not seem to entirely be in jest.

“No way,” he said. “Flirt with whoever else you want, but she and Yayoi are off limits.”

Otoya held his hands up in the air, his voice muffled by Tabito’s palm when he spoke. “Got it, dude. Plenty of other fish in the sea, right?”

“For you, yeah,” Tabito said. “Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Tabito,” you said. “And you must be Otoya? It’s nice to meet you. Tabito’s mentioned you a few times.”

“Hopefully he’s only said good things,” Otoya said, shaking your hand, careful to keep a cordial distance between you two.

“On the contrary, I’ve been led to believe you’re the devil incarnate,” you said.

“Really?” Otoya said.

“No, of course not. He’s only ever spoken highly of you. I was just joking,” you said.

“That’s a relief,” Otoya said. “It’d be awkward if you had a bad impression of me before we’d even met.”

“Did you really think I’d complain about you to her? I’m kind of hurt,” Tabito said.

“Look, you never know! Maybe that’s how you get your aggression out,” Otoya said.

“It’s not. If I had any aggression, I’d just yell at you yourself. I definitely wouldn’t burden her with any of your hypothetical nonsense, not in a million years,” Tabito said.

“Woah, didn’t realize we had a gentleman here,” Otoya said with a snicker. “Okay, then. Thanks for not talking shit about me behind my back.”

“Anytime,” Tabito said.

“Are you two done yet?” you said. “I don’t want the place to close before we get a spot.”

“Is it nearby?” Otoya said. “As long as it’s close, it doesn’t even matter if it’s expensive. I just need something better than those shitty convenience store Keurig packets Tabito’s been getting for us.”

“That’s the best I’ve been able to bring home at the random times you text me telling me we’re out! Sorry I don’t stop by a damn café after every morning practice,” Tabito said.

“This guy,” Otoya said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Doesn’t understand the value of a good coffee one bit.”

“Not everyone has that touch,” you whispered back with a wink. “It’s alright. I won’t let you suffer any longer; the shop I’m taking you to is only a block away, and it’s relatively inexpensive — for the city, anyways. If you don’t know that it’s there, though, it’s easy to miss, so I don’t blame you for not seeing it.”

“My hero!” Otoya said. “Lead the way.”

You had discovered the small café entirely by accident during your first year in Tokyo. It was tucked away between a laundromat and a veterinary office, far from where one would expect a shop of its nature to be located, and although there was were always a couple of patrons scattered throughout the booths and tables, it was never bustling or crowded enough to take away from the cozy atmosphere.

Tabito held the door open for you, and consequently for Otoya, who followed after and inhaled deeply, clasping his hands together in awe.

“This is amazing,” he said. “L/N, you’re like an angel sent from heaven or something. I could fall to my knees and praise you with a sonnet right now, I’m that happy.”

“If you fall to your knees or do anything similarly stupid in front of her, I’ll show you why I made the U-20 team,” Tabito said, raising his leg in the air like he was threatening to kick Otoya.

“He was just joking around, Tabito, it’s not a big deal,” you said. Then, to Otoya: “You’re pretty funny, you know.”

“Thanks,” he said with a grin. “I try my best. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

“Mostly it doesn’t,” Tabito muttered under his breath. “Tell me your order, Y/N, and I’ll get it for you.”

“Oh, thanks!” you said, listing off your favorites from the cafe’s menu for him. He wrote it down on his phone, lines of concentration etched into his brow as he painstakingly typed out the entire order before showing it to you to confirm that it was correct.

“Can you get me their seasonal drink?” Otoya said, sliding into the seat across from you and peering up at Tabito, who was entirely unamused by the act. “That floral-type latte. It sounds sick.”

“Get it yourself,” Tabito said.

“Why? You’re going to be up there, so just order and let me get to know dear Miss L/N here,” Otoya said. Tabito seemed conflicted, but you nodded reassuringly at him.

“Fine, but you — you know the deal,” he said, brandishing his pointer finger at Otoya. “Don’t you dare mess with her.”

“You got it,” Otoya said with a double-thumbs-up.

“I’m sorry. He’s always been like that, but he really does mean well,” you said, gazing after Tabito once he had stomped away to the counter.

“Been like what?” Otoya said. “An asshole? Ah, but I’m only saying it affectionately, so please don’t tell him I called him that, or else you’ll cause problems where there aren’t any.”

“He’s sweet at heart,” you said. “I know how he can seem to other people, especially at first, but I met him when he was four years old, so I guess I never really saw that side of him. He’s never been anything but kind to me. I guess that’s all I’m trying to say.”

“You’ve known Karasu for that long?” Otoya said.

“Yup. Like I said, I’m not denying that he’s abrasive most of the time, but he’s only being so protective because he cares about his sister and I so very much. Please don’t take it personally. He’s just that type of younger sibling,” you said.

“Younger sibling?” Otoya repeated. “That’s how you see him, huh? I get it now. If that’s how things are, then I won’t butt in.”

“That’s how they are,” you said. For some reason, this caused him to laugh at you, but it was pitying and mocking and not a sound you preferred to hear from anyone — most certainly not from a person you had only just met.

“It’s always so complicated in life, huh? That’s why I never really try too hard. Problems get worse the more you think about them,” he said. It hardly counted as an explanation, but for some reason, you were sure that that was all you were going to get out of him. “Oh, shit!”

“What happened?” you said as, abruptly and without warning, he shot to his feet,

“I was supposed to work on a group presentation today,” he said, running a hand through his hair with a groan. “They just texted to confirm that we’re meeting in the library in fifteen minutes.”

“Can you make it on time?” you said. He was already typing the address of his school’s library into his GPS, and the instant it loaded, he nodded at you.

“I’ve got it, but I’m afraid I’ll have to head out right about now, or else this crazy girl in my group will kill me. Tell Karasu I’ll send him the money for my drink, and that he can enjoy it on me,” he said. “Poor guy needs it, I’m pretty sure.”

“It’ll be too sweet for him, but I’ll pass along the message, sure,” you said.

“Now, normally, this would be the part where I’d ask you for your number, but no matter how beautiful you are, I’m not willing to risk my living situation for you,” he said. “Karasu’s pretty cool, as far as roommates go. It could definitely be worse, so I’d really not like to lose him and end up with some weirdo who collects toenail clippings, just for flirting with the one girl that he declared off-limits.”

“His actual sister’s off-limits as well,” you reminded Otoya. “So that’s two.”

“He did say that, didn’t he? But you’re off-limits in a different way, and unless I want to end up like my own older sister, whose first-year roommate built a replica of the Taj Mahal from the hair she collected out of their drain, I’m going to respect that,” he said.

“That’s disgusting,” you said, too busy gagging at the mental image artwork he had just described to even question what else he was talking about. “Well, you should be off to your group project, then. I’m sure I’ll see you around, Otoya, but in case it’s not for a while, I’ll wish you luck with soccer and school now.”

“Thanks. The same to you, and I am eternally in your debt for showing me this place, so if you ever need something, let me know,” he said, scrambling hastily out of the café without bothering to push his chair back under the table.

Tabito returned a few seconds later, setting the tray of your drinks down on the table and taking his spot in the booth at your side. Handing you the cup that belonged to you, he sipped on his own and placed Otoya’s across from himself.

“Where’d Otoya go?” he said.

“He said something about working on a group project and left. Apparently, he’ll send you the money for the drink, and you’re free to do with it as you please,” you said. Tabito wrinkled his nose.

“He always gets such sweet shit. There’s no way I’m going to be able to drink that,” he said.

“That’s what I told him, but what other option is there? We can share so it isn’t wasted,” you said, taking a swig from Otoya’s flowery beverage. It wasn’t bad, and you had a little more before giving it to Tabito.

“Ugh,” he said. “Fine.”

He poked out his tongue, lapping up the tiniest droplet of coffee which lingered on the rim of the cup, and then he made a face, handing it back to you and then gulping down two mouthfuls of his own drink to wash out the taste.

“That bad?” you said.

“Tasted like shit,” he said. “I don’t know how the two of you can drink that kind of stuff regularly without gagging.”

“It’s not my favorite, but it’s not as horrible as you’re making it out to be,” you said.

“I can literally feel my arteries clogging as we speak,” he said.

“Since when did you start speaking like an old man?” you said. “What boy your age talks about his arteries clogging?”

“Firstly, I’m trying to become a professional athlete, so I have to pay careful attention to things like my health, and secondly, we’re not that far apart in age. We have to worry about the same things, like jobs and grades and clogged arteries. Concerns of that nature,” he said.

“I’m glad you feel that way, but why’d you think I was referring to people my own age when I said old man, hm?” you said, elbowing him in the ribs playfully. “For your information, I doubt any of my own classmates would care about that shit yet, either. That was a distinctly middle-aged thing of you to say.”

“That makes me older than you,” he said. “If I’m middle-aged and you’re still all youthful and whatnot, that is. How do you feel about that age gap? It’s a little racy, don’t you think?”

You gave him an incredulous look. He couldn’t even maintain his straight face for more than a second, immediately losing composure and snorting at you.

“You’re the worst,” you said.

“And you’re easy to tease,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I had to take the opportunity when it presented itself.”

“I’ll give it to you this once,” you said. “Next time, you’re not getting off so easily.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “You’re all talk. I’m not scared one bit.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so adorable,” you said. “How am I supposed to stay mad when you look like you just watched a puppy die every time Yayoi yells at you?”

He scowled at you. “You’re making that up, aren’t you? Or is that how you actually see me?”

“Hm,” you said. “Let’s finish our drinks. They don’t taste as good if they’ve sat for too long.”

Huffing in exasperation but knowing that you’d not go into more detail once you’d changed the subject, he finished off what was left of his order in one fell swoop, and then he snatched Otoya’s drink from your hands, tossing it into the trashcan before you could so much as blink.

“Aw,” you said. “I feel bad. That’s how we’re responding to Otoya’s act of goodwill?”

“Forget about his goodwill,” Tabito said. “It’s not like he did it because of how magnanimous he is or anything. He’s just a dumbass who forgot that he had prior commitments.”

“Nothing like you, of course,” you said. “You’re always on time, and you only ever order the best of drinks.”

“Exactly,” he said firmly, leaving no room for argument — not that you would’ve argued with him, even if there was any cause to. Your father had always told you that generally, it was better to lose an argument than a loved one, and since the notion of losing Tabito was akin to a spear being driven into your heart, you did your best to avoid the chance of that frightful outcome ever occurring at all.

A few days before the end of the winter term, Yayoi called you in a flurrying panic. When you picked up, you were expecting her to be asking about the plans you had made for the road trip you two were taking, but it was nothing of the sort. Indeed, the first words out of her mouth were ones you had never once heard from her, and you almost dropped your phone the moment she said them.

“Y/N, I need your help. There’s this guy—”

“What?” you said. “Since when? What’s his name? Where did you meet him, and how? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Is he handsome?”

“Oh my god, one question at a time!” she said. “Yes, he’s super handsome — actually, he’s a model, so it’s kind of a prerequisite. I’m telling you as it happens, so don’t think I’m keeping things from you! His name is Kenyu Yukimiya; he plays for the U-20 team with Tabito, and I met him when I went to one of their practices because I was bored. We spoke once, but I don’t think he remembers I exist, and even if he does, he probably considers me as nothing more than his teammate’s older sister.”

“Wait, U-20? Is he younger than us?” you said.

“Yes, he’s in Tabito’s year, though a couple of months older than him,” she said. “Do you think it’s weird? Oh, it’s totally weird, isn’t it? I’m a creep! I’m a stupid, ugly creep! Lock me away or turn me into the police or something!”

You cut her wailing off with a snicker. “Yayoi, relax. It’s not that weird, and I mean that honestly. It’s hardly even a two year difference, right? My own parents have a bigger age gap, and besides, you both are in pretty similar spots in life, so it shouldn’t be a problem, especially if he’s mature.”

“He seemed mature,” she said contemplatively. “He was super polite and kind when I spoke to him. Plus, unlike my stupid brother, he actually enjoys talking about the same things I do.”

“There you go, then,” you said. “You’re worrying for nothing. The only reason why anyone might say anything is because you’re older than him, but who cares about that? It’s a tired concept, the whole notion of the woman needing to be younger or smaller than her male partner or whatever. As long as he’s single and into you, I’d say you’re in the clear.”

“That’s what I actually called you to talk about!” Yayoi said. “You’ve had a boyfriend, so you know a little more than I do about this kind of thing. How am I supposed to get him to ask me out?”

“Just so you know, having had one boyfriend back in high school doesn’t exactly qualify me to give you advice,” you said. “Also, you can’t really get someone to ask you out. Why don’t you just go to another one of their practices and talk to him again once they’re done? If the conversation is flowing well, then you can ask him out yourself.”

“Um, that would be a great idea if I was brave enough to ask someone out,” she said. “Unfortunately, I definitely am not.”

“You don’t have to be all official and serious about it,” you said. “Don’t say you want to date or anything — ask him if he wants to hang out to continue the conversation at a later time, and then give him your number. That’s all. If he’s interested, he’ll call or text you to make plans, and if he’s not, then he won’t.”

“It’s that simple?” she said.

“I think it is,” you said. “I wouldn’t know from personal experience. Aoyama just asked me out. I never had to do anything.”

“Not all of us can be that lucky!” she said.

“Yeah, I get it. But I have confidence that you can pull it off! It’ll go great, and then you’ll actually be dating a model in Tokyo like you always said you would,” you said.

“Okay…” she said hesitantly. “Y/N?”

“Yayoi?” you said.

“Canyoucometothepracticewithme?” she said, all in one unintelligible breath. You furrowed your brow.

“Could you repeat that?” you said.

“Can you come to the practice with me?” she said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do it without you pressuring me a bit.”

“Sure, why not?” you said. “Is it in the morning or evening?”

“They have evening practices on Tuesdays. I was thinking we could go to one of those? That’s what I did last time, so it’s an established thing, and anyways I don’t think I could wake up early enough to go to a morning practice,” she said.

“Okay, good, because I was kind of scared I’d have to be up before the sun. I’d do it for you, and in a heartbeat, but I wouldn’t exactly be happy about it,” you said.

“I wouldn’t, either,” she said. “This Tuesday, then? We can have an early dinner or late snack together before heading over.”

“I won’t miss it,” you promised. “Make sure you wear something nice!”

After your Tuesday classes and errands were completed, you met Yayoi at a restaurant you both liked so that you could quickly eat before leaving for the practice. She was nervous the entire way, twirling the ends of her hair around her finger, straightening her already-perfect clothes, and chewing on her lower lip.

“Hey,” you said as the two of you entered the stadium and sat on the first row of benches. “Don’t stress out. If he’s an asshole, we’ll sic Tabito on him. I bet he could beat your crush in a fight, easily.”

“I don’t know,” Yayoi groaned. “Yukimiya’s super tall, and he looks pretty built, too. I think my baby brother might be outmatched.”

“No way,” you said loyally. “I’d bet on him over anyone.”

She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye. “I wish I could have the same faith in him, but considering what a dumbass he typically is, I can’t say I can muster it up. Look, that’s Yukimiya. Still think Tabito’s got it in the bag?”

Discreetly, she pointed out a boy with wavy chestnut hair and an admittedly powerful build. He stood next to Otoya, which only threw it into further relief just how muscular and tall he was. Yayoi hadn’t been lying about that, and neither had she made up how good-looking he was; you could tell just from that first glance that he was heartbreakingly handsome.

“Well,” you said, realizing that maybe you had been a bit overconfident in Tabito’s abilities. But you were too stubborn to change your answer now, and besides, you believed in him no matter what, so you only shrugged. “Yes. Even if it looked like he’d lose for sure, I’d still pick him. There just isn’t anyone else I’d ever choose.”

“Damn,” Yayoi said. “Fine, then. If Yukimiya ends up being an asshole, we’ll see who wins.”

“Deal,” you said. “Although, hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”

“Hopefully,” she agreed.

The practice was long, dragging on past sunset, the field’s lights turning on to ward away the darkness as the moon crept higher into the sky. Yayoi, who had confessed that she hadn’t slept well the previous night, slumped against you and passed out almost immediately, and you busied yourself with a pattern of checking your phone and watching moths fly fruitlessly into the massive lamps.

Finally, the coach blew the whistle to signify the end of the practice, and as the players exited the field, walking past where you were conveniently seated, right by the joint entrance-exit, you shook Yayoi.

“There’s no way you’re in this deep of a sleep,” you hissed at her unmoving form.

“Y/N?” It was not Yayoi but someone else who said your name; namely, Tabito, who had paused in front of you and Yayoi to gaze at you questioningly. “Why are you at my practice?”

“Not now, Tabito,” you said dismissively. Noticing that Otoya and, more importantly, Yukimiya, flanked him, you doubled down on your efforts to wake Yayoi, who remained unresponsive. “You bitch. I bet you’re just pretending to sleep so you don’t have to go through with the plan.”

“Hey, L/N! It’s been a bit,” Otoya said. “I’ve been visiting the place you showed us almost daily. It’s wicked good. You’re the best for bringing us there.”

“Hi, Otoya,” you said. “Sure, anytime. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Yayoi, if you won’t get up, I’ll just do it myself.”

Without waiting for her to respond, you stood up and bowed slightly at Yukimiya, who seemed entirely bemused by your odd actions. He glanced at both Otoya and Tabito for help, but neither of them had any clue what you were doing, either, so they could offer no assistance to him on that front.

“It’s nice to meet you. I hear your name is Kenyu Yukimiya?” you said.

“Yes, that’s correct,” he said. He had a pretty manner of speech, proper and refined, each word spoken with careful control. “Who might you be?”

“Y/N L/N, but that’s unimportant,” you said. “That’s Yayoi Karasu. She’s Tabito’s barely-older sister. You should talk to her.”

“Y/N!” Yayoi screeched, shooting up to a sitting position. “Why would you phrase it like that?”

“What is going on here?” Tabito said. Otoya shrugged, clearly lost as well.

“So you were faking it the entire time! Never in my life have I met a bigger coward,” you said, clicking your tongue in disappointment.

“Yayoi Karasu?” Yukimiya said. “Oh, I know you! You were here last week, right? We talked about Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

“That’s right! You, uh, remembered that?” Yayoi said. He beamed at her.

“How could I not? The movie is one of my favorites, and none of these guys like it, so it was great to meet someone else who’s seen it so many times,” Yukimiya said.

“Y/N,” Tabito whispered, sidling over to you, the tip of his sharp nose brushing against the shell of your ear. “Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is.”

“Depends,” you whispered back. “If you think this is your sister having a crush on your soccer teammate, then yeah, it is. Otherwise, no.”

“That’s gross,” Tabito said, horror twisting his features. “Yayoi and Yuki? No way. You have to be joking.”

“Why not? Because he’s younger than her? It’s only two years. That’s nothing,” you said. “You should be more supportive.”

“No,” he said, a peculiar edge to his voice. “No, I don’t — I don’t care about that part. I thought you might, but I don’t at all.”

“Huh? Why would I?” you said. “If they’re both interested in each other, and they make each other happy, that’s all that matters. We’re adults, so a few years here and there is meaningless in the grand scheme of things.”

“What about you? Would you ever do it?” he said, breathless and impatient, clenching the hem of your shirt in one fist.

“Date someone younger than me? I’m not sure. I’ve never really considered it; you’re the only one younger than me that I regularly interact with, and, well, you know. There’s a special consideration there. Why? Got a teammate you want to set me up with or something?” you said.

“Absolutely not,” he said, stepping away from you and scowling. “I’d never ever ever let one of those mediocre fucking idiots anywhere near you.”

“Just a hypothetical question, then? I suppose there’s no harm in that kind of thing every now and again. Was my response alright?” you said.

“How am I supposed to answer that?” he said tiredly. “It’s what you think, so obviously it’s fine. I should go now. I don’t want to keep Otoya waiting; he’ll get pissy and annoying if I do.”

“Oh, okay. Bye, Tabito! Let me know if you’re free sometime. I feel like I never see you, even though we’re all but neighbors. We should do something,” you said. The strange tone of the conversation had left you reeling, and you scrambled for something that would make it better, would chase away the anxiety constricting your lungs like a vice.

“I’ll let you know,” he said. It was a dull attempt at sounding excited, and for a brief, striking instant, you wanted to reach out and beg him to wait one second more. You wanted to apologize, though you knew not what you had even done. You wanted him to stay until he smiled at you again, the way he usually did, and then you wanted to — you wanted to — you weren’t sure. You weren’t sure what you would do after that, but you would do something, hold his hand or embrace him or something.

Yet instead, you did nothing, watching as he rejoined Otoya and entered the locker room without a backwards glance, leaving you standing by yourself in the bleachers, your heart hammering in your chest like a crow with clipped wings, thrashing against the bars of its steel cage in a futile attempt to escape.

“Can you believe it?” Yayoi said later. “He asked me out first! I didn’t even have to do anything!”

“Congratulations,” you said, as genuinely as you could. “I’m really happy for you, Yayoi. Fingers crossed that it all works out well. I’m sure it will; he seems like a really great guy, and you both were talking for a while, so you’re clearly compatible.”

“Thanks, I think so too!” she said before narrowing her eyes at you. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing!” you said. She was so happy that you could not bear the thought of burdening her with your problems, especially when they weren’t even problems in the first place. Yayoi was having none of it, though, frowning at you.

“You can tell me,” she said. You shook your head, so she poked you in the forehead. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”

She punctuated each utterance of the refrain with another poke, until finally you batted her hand away in exasperation “It really is nothing. I just think I did something to upset Tabito — don’t ask me what, because I don’t know — and it’s making me feel a bit out of sorts.”

“He’ll get over it. Why’re you worried? This isn’t unusual. He’s mad at me half of the time. If I felt out of sorts every time he threw a tantrum about something, I’d never feel in sorts,” she said.

“But he hardly ever gets mad at me,” you said.

“Right,” she said, her eyes glimmering. “I forgot the two of you were like that. Hm. I still think you shouldn’t worry too much. If he’s actually mad, which I honestly doubt, then he’ll get over it quickly enough. He’s not capable of staying angry at you for any length of time.”

“If you say so,” you said. “Let’s not talk about it anymore. We need to celebrate you finally saying yes to a guy that asked you out!”

Yayoi blushed but nodded. “Should we go for drinks?”

“It is a Tuesday,” you reminded her.

“Is that a no?” she said.

“It’s a yes,” you said.

“I knew I loved you for a reason,” she said.

“Just for that, you’re covering the tab,” you said. She winked at you.

“Already planning on it!”

The end of your time at university came almost as soon as the beginning had. It was bizarre, walking out of the familiar exam hall for the final time — you knew you had passed, and you already had a job lined up for you in a month’s time, so there wasn’t any cause to worry, and indeed you did not. You only felt odd and light, as if you were floating through the streets of Tokyo, ephemeral like an aluminum wrapper bouncing down the pavement in the wind.

Neither Yayoi nor Tabito could attend your graduation ceremony which was held that Friday; Yayoi had fallen deathly ill, so you had enlisted Yukimiya in keeping her at home, lest she sneak out and kill herself by trying to support you, and as for Tabito, he happened to have a final exam held at exactly the time of the ceremony, which meant he was automatically excluded from attending.

Your parents, as well as both sets of your grandparents, were in the audience, but it wasn’t the same. You couldn’t help yourself from searching for the Karasus, for Tabito in particular, but no matter how hard you searched, it didn’t matter. They weren’t there. He wasn’t there.

When the president of your college, a portly woman with pin-curled hair and red lipstick, handed you your degree, you were hesitant in taking it. Your smile plastered on, you stared towards the door as your fingers inched towards the fancy paper. Any moment now. He’d burst through the door the way you had, and he’d see you, and he’d smile and then wave — it was like a tradition at this point, wasn’t it? It had to happen. He had to come. You knew he wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop a foolish anticipation from brewing in you as you waited.

Your hands reached the certificate. You held it in front of you as the cameras went off, finally turning away from the door and grinning wider, resolving not to let it ruin your mood. After all, you had worked so hard to achieve this. Why did it matter who was in the audience? It could be an audience of none, and you’d still be happy. You’d still be proud, for no other reason than because you had done it, because all of your hours of studying and classes and homework had finally paid off.

You ate dinner with your family, and then you were invited to go out to a nearby bar by a few of your college friends. Seeing your parents and grandparents to the train station, you rushed back to your apartment to get ready for the night, entirely ready to let loose after what felt like several years’ worth of burdens had just been knocked from your shoulders.

The bar was packed with students from your school, all of whom had had much the same idea as you and your friends. The bartenders were rushing back and forth, sliding drinks out with as much speed as was humanly possible, and before long you were sipping on something fizzy and fruity that one of your friends had handed you.

At some point, one of your classmates, a boy who you had never known particularly well but recognized for his distinctive voice, which could be heard from all corners of the city when he got to bragging about his father’s salary, announced that the rest of the night’s drinks were on him. If you were his father, you’d be furious at the offer, but as you weren’t his father, you took advantage of it with impudence, downing glass after glass of whatever the bartender gave you.

Soon enough, the music and lighting, which you had found so charming and delightful earlier, began to pound at your head. The world spun, not unpleasantly but still in a disorienting manner, and you stumbled towards the door, pulling out your phone and singing to yourself as you decided who you wanted to call.

The cool air of the night was refreshing against your face, and you leaned against the brick wall of the establishment as you squinted at the blinding light of your phone’s screen. You could barely make out the dark characters which stood out on the white background, and eventually you gave up, switching to the keypad and using muscle memory to type in the number your fingers had long ago memorized.

He didn’t pick up until the last ring, and his voice was groggy when he spoke. In the back of your mind, you felt guilty, for you recognized that he must’ve been sleeping, but for the most part you were far too elated to hear him speaking, so you could not bring yourself to be too sorry.

“Hello? Y/N?”

“Tabito,” you said, your words slurring together, dragging out at the ends and trailing into soft breaths. “Tabito, you didn’t come to my graduation.”

He sounded a lot more alert when he spoke next, but he did not change the volume of his voice from that low murmur any. “I told you I couldn’t. I had an exam, remember?”

You sniffed, blinking rapidly. “Yeah, I remember.”

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it,” he said. “You know I would’ve been there if I could’ve.”

“Can you come now?” you said, your lower lip trembling.

“Come where?” he said. There was a muffled sound that you assumed was him rolling out of his bed, and then the soft padding noise of his footsteps.

“The bar,” you said. At this point, irrational tears were welling in your eyes. You weren’t even sad, but you couldn’t stop them from rolling down your cheeks, leaving scalding trails in their wake.

“Are you out with your friends? Why do you want me there? Aren’t you celebrating?” he said.

“I don’t know,” you said, and then you were hiccuping as you cried in earnest. “I don’t know, Tabito, I just want you to be here.”

“Okay, okay,” he soothed you. “I just left my apartment. Is it the bar you and Yayoi like to go to? The one by the grocery store?”

“Yes,” you said.

“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, and then we can decide what to do from there. Does that sound good?” he said.

“Mhm,” you said. “Are you going really fast? Tabito, you play soccer, right?”

“I do play soccer,” he said, sounding equal parts amused and concerned. “You come to watch my games sometimes. I like when you do that.”

“That means you must be fast,” you said. “Mega fast. Mega extra fast.”

“I’m only a little fast. Most of my teammates are faster,” he said.

“Ah,” you said. “But will you still be here super soon?”

“Yes, I’ll be there super soon,” he promised.

“Can you talk on the phone and walk at the same time?” you asked him.

“Well, I’m doing it at the moment, so yes, I’d assume so. Why do you ask?” he said.

“Isn’t that illegal?” you said.

“No, that’s for when you’re driving,” he said.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t do that, do you?”

“I take the train or walk most places, so I don’t even have the opportunity to,” he said.

“But if you had to drive, you wouldn’t, right? Right, right?” you said.

“Right,” he said. “I’m just around the corner, so I’m going to hang up. Are you outside?”

“Next to the door,” you said.

“Don’t move,” he instructed you, and then he ended the call.

Before you could begin to wail about the abandonment, he was rounding the corner, looking so haphazard that, had you any more presence of mind, you’d have made fun of him for it. His hair stuck up in every which direction, like it had when he was younger and didn’t know how to style it, and he wore nothing but a random t-shirt thrown over a pair of plaid pajama pants, his feet shoved into the black Crocs that Yayoi had bought him as a gag gift last Christmas.

“Y/N! There you are,” he said, his shoulders slumping in relief as he pulled you into his arms. “Look, I’m with you now. Are you happy?”

You giggled. The world still rotated on an unidentifiable axis, but the firmness of Tabito’s grip had a kind of stabilizing effect, holding you in place and together and in one piece.

“Hi, baby,” you said. “Yes. So happy.”

“Baby?” he repeated, and based on the way his skin warmed, he must’ve been blushing.

“Look,” you said, reaching up so that you could play with the ends of his hair. “It’s like when you were a baby. When you were just little baby Tabito. That’s when I met you, you know.”

“I see,” he said, and there was a distinct yet inexplicable despondency to the way that the corners of his eyes crinkled and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Do you want to go home now?”

“I wanna be with you,” you said.

“That’s fine,” he said, so patiently and tenderly that your head grew fuzzier and fuzzier with every word he spoke. “I’ll stay with you either way, but I think we should probably head back. How much have you had to drink?”

“Um…” you tried to recount what you had ingested, but it was all a blur. “I don’t remember.”

He rubbed the back of his hand against your cheek. “Let’s go home, then. You definitely shouldn’t have any more. Will you be alright if I go inside and tell your friends I’m taking you back?”

“Do you have to?” you said, catching his sleeve and holding it in between your hands. “Why can’t we just leave?”

“They’ll worry about you,” he said, prying your fingers off with the utmost of delicacy. “If you leave without letting them know, they might think something bad happened. I’ll explain what’s going on so they aren’t scared, and then we can head out. Does that make sense?”

“Hmm,” you said. “Only because you say so.”

He chuckled slightly. “That’s good. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You counted the seconds that he was gone, and before you reached the seventy-fifth, he was already back, his face flushed from the heat of the bar, his hair even wilder than earlier from the sweat and the humidity, a dusty footprint on his right shoe where someone must’ve accidentally stepped on him.

“I was expecting to have to convince them to let you go with me, but they were all alright with it,” he said, carefully taking your hand and leading you in the direction of the apartment.

“Sure they were,” you said, tripping over a loose stone, only avoiding face-planting because Tabito caught you with the reflexes of an athlete. “It’s because I talk about you so much.”

“Do you?” he said.

“Totally,” you said with a yawn. “All of my friends know about you and your soccer and your studies. I’m just soooo proud of you, so I mention it whenever you do something cool. Isn’t that what a normal elder-sister-figure would do?”

“Yayoi doesn’t,” he said.

“Yayoi is Yayoi,” you said.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “And it doesn’t change what I said.”

“Can you carry me?” you said when you almost stumbled and fell for the second time. “Tabito, it’s hard to walk, so can I please ride on your back the rest of the way?”

He exhaled but crouched, beckoning you forward. “If you really want.”

“Yay!” you said, leaping onto his broad back and clinging to his neck, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he supported you while continuing to walk. “You’re so big now. When did that happen? Have you always been like this? It’s almost as if you’re nearer to being a man than a child, but that’s impossible. You’re still young, aren’t you?”

“It’s not impossible; in fact, it’s the truth,” he said. “If only you ever looked at me and saw me for who I am, you’d have realized I’ve been like this for quite a while now.”

“What do you mean?” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, closing your eyes, allowing the rhythm of his walk to lull you into a trance.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Forget about it. We’re almost there. Are your keys in your purse?”

“Yup,” you said. “D’you want them now?”

“I’ll get them from you once we’re at the door,” he said. “Good thing you don’t have a roommate; I’m sure they’d be pissed off by you coming back so late, drunk out of your mind and with a random guy in tow.”

“You’re not a random guy,” you said, dropping the key to the complex in his waiting hand once the two of you reached the glass gate to the building. “If I had a roommate, they’d definitely know who you are. How could they not? You’re my Tabito.”

“Since when I have been your Tabito?” he said, unlocking the door and flicking your chin up playfully before returning his hand to holding up your leg. “I don’t think that I am.”

“Since always,” you said.

“Really? And does that mean you’re my Y/N?” he said, bending down so you could press the elevator button to take you to your floor.

“Yes,” you said. “For six years I did not know it, but ever since then I have been yours.”

“Well,” he said. “Is that how it is?”

“It is,” you said. He switched the lights in your apartment on and deposited you on the couch, heading to your kitchen and filling up a glass with water. Handing it to you, he sat at your side, bringing it to your lips so you could drink, not taking it away until you had drained the cup.

“Feeling better?” he said. “I’ll get you some crackers to eat.”

“Much better,” you said, chewing on the crackers while laying your head on his shoulder. “My stomach isn’t so queasy, and my vision is a lot more straight.”

“You’re talking more normally, too,” he noted. “At least, you sound a bit comprehensible. Want more water?”

“No,” you said. “I’m sleepy. Can we go to sleep now?”

“Here?” he said. “How about you change into your pajamas and wash your face first?”

“I’m too tired,” you said, yawning yet again to emphasize the point, nuzzling your face against the curve of his neck, your eyelashes crushing against his throat. “You’re so comfortable.”

“Thank you,” he said, patting you atop the head. “But you’ll feel horrible tomorrow morning if you don’t get in bed properly.”

“I’ll feel horrible either way,” you said. “I can’t do anything. We were partying for so long, and now I’m exhausted.”

“That’s true, but you’ll feel worse if you sleep here instead of in your room,” he said. “How about I help you?”

“You’ll help me?” you said.

“If you change your clothes, I’ll do everything else,” he promised, gently pushing you off of him and then standing so he could help you to your feet. “I just don’t want you to feel sick tomorrow, be all cramped up from sleeping in a weird spot, and get a break out on top of that.”

“I guess that’s fine,” you said with a dramatic exhale. “You’re so…so…what’s the word? You’re so persistent. Stubborn. Something like that.”

“People say that a lot,” he said.

“They call you an asshole a lot, too,” you said. “All of the time.”

“Yes,” he said, walking with you to your room, where your pajamas were folded at the foot of your bed. “I think I am one, at least a little bit. It’s impossible for me to be otherwise around mediocre people. I try to fix it, but it’s hard, you know.”

“I don’t think you are,” you said. “You’re the nicest person in the whole entire world. If you were an asshole, you wouldn’t treat me the way you do, but you do, which means you aren’t.”

“That’s because you’re special,” he said after a pause. “To me. And also in general.”

“What do you mean by that?” you said, but when you turned around, he had shut the door between you two, allowing you to change your clothes and him to avoid the question.

Only the thought of disappointing Tabito was enough to convince you to not collapse onto your inviting bed. Instead, you trudged towards the door, opening it and pouting at him, trying to beg with your eyes for him to allow you to go to sleep.

“Good job,” he said, ignoring your silent pleas and dragging you to the bathroom, where he sat you down on the edge of the bathtub. “Is this your makeup remover?”

He showed you the little tub of cold cream you kept next to your sink. You mumbled something generally affirmative, and he unscrewed it, kneeling beside you and massaging it onto your face, paying extra attention to your eyes, which was where most of your makeup was concentrated.

“Who taught you about all of this stuff?” you said, your eyes screwed shut as he used a clean, wet washcloth to remove the cleanser from your skin. “Do you have a secret girlfriend?”

“No girlfriends, secret or otherwise,” he said. “It’s all stuff Yayoi made me learn on pain of death. She refused to have a brother who didn’t know anything about proper skincare. It’s not like I do it all that much, but I’m aware of it thanks to her.”

“You’ve really never had a girlfriend?” you said. You supposed you had always been aware of that, but you had never really comprehended what it meant. How could it be that Tabito Karasu of all people had never even gone on a date?

“Nope,” he said. “Can I use this moisturizer on you? I’m sure you have a better routine normally, but it’ll probably be for the best if we skip steps for the sake of getting this done quickly.”

You cracked your eyes open and then nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. Why?”

“Why what?” he said. The lotion was cold at first, but the circular motions of his fingers on your cheeks warmed it quickly enough that you didn’t even have time to be shocked by the temperature. It was soothing, a tingly sensation washing over you as he worked.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend?” you said, his fingertips gliding over your forehead.

“I guess I haven’t found the right person yet,” he said. “Or, no, that’s not it. I have found them. I found them a long time ago, but I don’t — I don’t think they wanted to be found. Not by me.”

“That can’t be true,” you said. “What kind of person wouldn’t want you? Who are you talking about, anyways?”

His thumb swiped over your lips, once and then twice, before coming to rest where they slightly parted. You waited, thinking he might move it, but he did not.

“What will it take?” he said. “For you to stop thinking of me as a child. What more can I do? Name it and I will. If it means you’ll stop thinking of me as your little brother, then I’ll do anything.”

“How else would I think of you?” you said. “You are like my—”

“Please,” he said, and it had been so very many years since you had heard him so distraught that you quieted immediately. “Please stop it. I don’t think of you like that, I don’t love you like that, so please stop it.”

Before you could respond, his mouth replaced his thumb against your own, and he was kissing you, cradling your head in his hands, his ardor winning out over his inexperience as he tried to impress upon you just how much he had wanted you, and for how long.

Unfathomably and without even realizing, you found yourself kissing him back, enjoying every demand he made of you and responding to them each in kind. Your hands wound around his neck and tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on the silky, feathery strands, drawing a small whimper out of him as he wedged himself impossibly closer to you. Yet the sound broke you out of whatever daze you had fallen into, so, with a gasp, you ripped yourself away from him, resting your forehead at the dip of his collarbone as you tried to catch your breath.

“No,” you said. “No, I shouldn’t have — we shouldn’t have — you have to go.”

“Why not?” he said. “You said you shouldn’t have, but you did. Why do you wish you hadn’t?”

“You have to leave,” you said, and then you were crying again, soaking his shirt with your tears as the weight of what you had done began to smother you.

“Let go of me first,” he said. Your fingers, still in his hair, flexed but did not loosen. “Y/N. If you really want me to go, I’ll go, but you have to — you have to let go of me first. You have to be the one to do it.”

You wept harder, because you did not know how to let go of him, because you could not fathom doing it, but neither did you want him to let you go first. It was shameful and wrong, but the truth was that, more than anything, you wished for him to stay, to blot away your tears and lay you in your bed so you could sleep the entire night away.

Somehow, you found the strength in you to yank yourself away from him, all in one go. The moment they left him, it was as if your fingertips themselves mourned, aching to return to their rightful place, but instead of obliging, you used them to cover your eyes. Anything to avoid looking at him. Anything to avoid seeing the anguished expression that most certainly marred his features. Anything to avoid knowing that you were the one who had caused it.

You didn’t look up again until you heard the front door close, and then it was all you could do to turn off the bathroom lights and make it to your bed, crashing into the pillows and somehow managing to fall asleep.

As soon as Yayoi was feeling back to her usual self, you sent her a cryptic text essentially commanding her to meet you at your usual spot for food whenever she could. Thankfully, she recognized when you were having an actual problem versus when you just missed her, and she told you she was free that very evening, so you didn’t have to simmer in your thoughts for any longer than you already had.

“Your brother kissed me,” you said when you sat down across from her.

“Hello to you, too,” she said, closing her menu and setting it to the side. She had only even looked at it as a formality; both of you ordered the same thing every time, so opening the menu was meaningless at this point.

“Hello, Yayoi,” you said. “Tabito kissed me.”

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” she guessed.

“Yes,” you said. “It happened the other night. I would’ve called you earlier, but you were sick, so I didn’t want to.”

“Alright. It’s a little awkward for me, considering he’s my brother and all, but I’ll set aside my biases and do my best. How do you feel right now?”

“I have no idea. How do you feel?” you said, perplexed by the lack of reaction she was displaying.

“Why would I feel anything?” she said.

“Because? Your best friend just told you that your little brother kissed her? Aren’t you mad?” you said.

“Not really,” she said. “I’m surprised it took him this long, honestly. Everyone knows he’s been in love with you for ages.”

“Everyone?” you said.

“Everyone,” she agreed. “Most of our friends, all of my family, both of your parents…he hasn’t really tried too hard to hide it. I’m pretty sure most of them think you like him, too, but I don’t want to make assumptions, which is why I’m asking you how you feel about it all.”

“How did I miss it?” you said. “I didn’t realize right up until — well, you know — that he liked me, let alone for so long.”

“Sometimes people only see what they think they see,” she said. “You thought Tabito would never like you, so that’s what you believed. But he could, and he did. Now what?”

“Now nothing!” you said. “What am I supposed to do, date him? That’s just wrong!”

“Why is it wrong?” she said. “By the way, I’m not all too invested in any particular outcome, just as long as you’re happy, so don’t think I’m trying to steer you towards any specific path. I just want you to be fully honest with yourself before you jump to making decisions about any of this.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Okay, well, first off, he’s your — you, as in my best friend — little brother.”

“Not yours, though,” she said.

“But as good as,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say so. You’ve never treated him like a sibling,” she said. “That’s not to say you don’t care about him, but it’s in a different way than a sister would.”

“He’s also younger than me,” you said.

“Yukimiya’s younger than I am, and we’re perfectly happy. Plus, you were the first to say that there weren’t any issues with that, so why’s it a problem now?” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“But that’s — that’s different! You met him only recently. I’ve known Tabito since we were little kids! Doesn’t that make it weird?” you said.

“People get married to their childhood friends all of the time. It’s not that unusual,” Yayoi said. “Is there anything else?”

“No, it’s just strange, that’s all!” you said. “You seriously don’t find it even a little odd?”

“I’ve had a lot longer to adjust to it than you have,” she said with a shrug, sipping on the soda she had ordered with her meal. “Let’s approach this in a different way. What about if you both were the same age, and you met later in life? In a university lecture or something. If that was the case, and he asked you out, would you say yes?”

“Absolutely,” you said without hesitation. “That was a stupid question. Who would say no? He’s smart, he’s good at pretty much everything, he’s sweet and funny and caring; additionally, from an objective standpoint, he’s incredibly attractive. I’d do everything I could to keep him if he happened to glance my way.”

“Even if he ended up being younger than you?” Yayoi said.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I — oh.”

She gave you a dull look. “Just so you know, that is not a sisterly way to view a guy.”

“I got that,” you said.

“Do you think maybe it’s possible that you’ve loved him too, almost the entire time?” she said. “Maybe even before you understood what it meant to love someone else? Back when sibling was the closest relationship to another kid that you, as an only child, could conceive of?”

“I guess that that — that’s definitely a possibility,” you said.

“It could be,” she said. “And then the notion of him being your ‘brother’ became so set in your mind that you couldn’t possibly think of him as anything else.”

“There’s a chance that that was what happened,” you said slowly. “But I don’t feel what I did for Aoyama when I look at Tabito. It’s something else entirely.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t love Tabito,” Yayoi said, flagging down the waiter so you could pay for your food. “It just means you didn’t love Aoyama, or didn’t love him as much. Considering which one is still in your life and which one you haven’t spoken to in years, it’s not unlikely.”

“What do I do now, then?” you said.

“What do you want to do?” she said as the two of you exited the restaurant. “I’ll be your friend no matter what. In the end, it’s up to you.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you said, suddenly terrified. “I won’t survive if I do. Yayoi, I don’t…”

“You can’t,” she reassured you. “If you haven’t lost him yet, then I don’t think it’s possible for you to. But you know, then, right? What’s next?”

“I do,” you said, taking out your phone and picking up speed, veering in a different direction, turning over your shoulder to shout back at her. “Thank you, Yayoi!”

“Good luck!” she shouted back as you took off at a run, holding your phone up to your ear.

“Otoya,” you said breathlessly, as soon as he picked up. “Otoya, is Tabito there?”

“Uh, Y/N? Yeah, Karasu’s cooking dinner, why?” he said. “You good?”

“I’m coming over,” you said. “Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere, and buzz me in when I get there. This is me calling in that favor you owe me, so do a good fucking job at it, okay?”

“Sure, I can, but why don’t you just ask him to do it directly?” he said.

“I don’t think he’ll pick up if I call him at the moment,” you said.

“Trouble in paradise? This is why I don’t do the whole ‘commitment’ gig. Too many complications,” Otoya said with a scoff. “Fine, I’ll help you, but only because — like you said — I owe you one, and because I’m going to evacuate the apartment as soon as you get here so I’m not caught in the crossfire.”

“Thank you,” you said. “That’s perfect. You rock.”

“Yup, you got it. See you.”

The elevator took too long, so after waiting for thirty seconds, you gave up and went for the stairs, taking them two at a time until you reached the floor that Tabito and Otoya lived on. Then you knocked on the door, waiting with crossed arms until it swung open and revealed Otoya, dressed in a pair of rubber-ducky boxers and nothing more.

“Well, that’s my cue,” he said when he saw it was you.

“Where are you even going to go, dressed like that?” you said, momentarily distracted by the outfit, which was all but offensive to the eye. Otoya winked at you.

“There’s plenty of people in this complex that would welcome me dressed like this,” he said, walking out with a devilish grin. “I’ll go see one of them.”

“You have fun,” you said, unable to do anything but shake your head at the rakish response.

“I definitely will. You…do your best with Karasu. He’s been kinda down, so it’d be great if you could fix him right up again, because his pasta tastes shitty when he’s in a bad mood,” he said, saluting at you before vanishing into the closing elevator.

“Who was at the door?” Tabito said. He wore the pale green apron with white polka dots you had loaned him and never asked for back, and there was a wooden spoon in his right hand, which he used to stir a pot of sauce. “Hello? Otoya? Was it one of your exes again or something? Dude, you’ve gotta stop giving them our address, this is the third time this month that some girl has come to harass you.”

You were still for a moment, standing in the doorway, watching the muscles of his back tighten and then relax as he finished mixing the sauce, setting the spoon down on its stand and putting the lid back on the pot.

“Damn, silent treatment? Was it that bad? It’s your own fault, you dumbass,” he said. “It’s not like I tell you to bring them over. You do that all on your own, and these are the consequences you face as a result. Don’t blame me for it.”

What would you even tell him? He turned the stove to simmer, and you opened your mouth before closing it. You had no idea what to say. You had no idea what was even going on in your mind — you had left Yayoi with such an urgency that you hadn’t had the time to organize your thoughts as you would’ve liked to before such an important moment.

He turned around while untying his apron, his mouth curved into a sneer as he prepared to taunt who he must’ve thought was Otoya messing with him. Yet when he realized it was you, his face fell, as if just by standing there you had reprimanded him harshly.

“Y/N,” he said. You wondered how he could do it, how he could bear to still say your name with the same affection as always. Why hadn’t he left you? Why hadn’t he given up a long time ago? What had you ever done to be worthy of this kind of loyalty? What had you ever done to deserve a person like him?

A lump swelled in your throat, and the harder you tried to swallow it down, the more your eyesight prickled and blurred, until you could hardly see anything at all. For a second you were frozen, and then vaguely you were aware of him taking a step towards you and your inhibitions were lost entirely.

Crossing the expanse of the small kitchen and casting yourself into his embrace, you clung to his neck, crying in earnest when he held onto you as if by instinct, because the way he clutched your waist felt like coming home. He felt like coming home. He felt like butterflies in the spring and leaves in the fall and ice cream in the summer and storms in the winter and every other little thing from your life which you could only ever associate with him.

“I love you,” you said. “I’m sorry, I love you, I love you so much I didn’t even realize it but I do now, I do, and I can finally see that I love you more than anything or anyone, Tabito, so please still love me back, please—”

“Shh,” he murmured, one of his hands moving up and down your back. “Don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry. Y/N, Y/N, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I was such a fool. I didn’t comprehend it, any of it, because I’ve loved you since before I understood what the word love meant.”

He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, over and over until your tears abated, and only then did he speak.

“I’ve loved you for longer,” he said. “I loved you before I even knew you.”

“And do you still?” you said.

“Yes,” he said. “I couldn’t stop so quickly.”

“Don’t ever stop,” you said. “But if you do, if you must, then keep it to yourself. I want to at least imagine that you’ll keep loving me for — for a long time.

“Oh, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t have to imagine that. I’ll love you forever if you want it.”

“I do,” you said. “I do want it.”

His lips ghosted along your temple as he smiled. Then, right before they fit against your own, he murmured: “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

Though you had neither reason nor proof, you found that, wholeheartedly and fully, with all that you were, you believed him.

[sammys-stupid-stories]

7th October 2024

Accidental impromptu vent session with my cousin since some of those pics I was sent had him and his family in them. I had asked first if he wanted to see them since he's in a VERY similar boat but his parents actually stayed divorced.

It was only for a few minutes, but we talked about the pain of cutting off that entire side of the family and how we lost the chance to talk to a grandparent who meant a lot to us. I think I fucked him up more though.

The one he wants to talk to is still alive (probably) and the one I cared for passed during Covid.

I mentioned that the only time I got to see her after I went no-contact with my mother's side was at her grave. And that was a hell of a feeling. Especially since I don't believe in an afterlife. So it was just me, sitting in a graveyard after a 6 hour drive, just to talk to a mound of dirt with ashes buried underneath- acting like I could absolve my ignorance and crimes by saying sorry to myself like sad schmuck. I do regret not trying harder to see her. She was a victim to this family all her life. (Fuck, of course I'm an idiot who forgot he shares that family member with me. Of COURSE he also was affected by her passing.)

In contrast, I'm so INCREDIBLY grateful to have gotten in contact with that cousin again. It was pure luck that his mom had ordered and picked up photos at the place I was working, while I was covering someone's break, and she recognized me.

I keep fucking it up though. I don't KNOW how to talk to family. I never learned that. I didn't know how to act around other people until around college when I got friends who were willing to correct me and help me figure this shit out. It's only the second time we've talked since getting into contact, but I made him cry since he's unpacking A LOT right now too, and he hasn't had nearly as many years to process this shit. I said something stupid and made his night shitty.

Getting in touch with him and his mom was such a blessing to me. They're the most sane people I'm related to. They also immediately changed how they addressed me when we traded Facebooks and they saw I had changed my name / gender. That little act of kindness from a family member STILL has me fucked up. There was no fighting, no yelling, no... it was a simple "oh, sorry for calling you the wrong thing, let me fix that" and we continued. It was like dropping a pen and picking it up: un-extraordinary.

[chasing-rabbits]

Today was going pretty good but then I get a call from my Mum and my Granddad who went in for a UTI yesterday which is like okay that’s nothing major right? Well the care home has phoned her and said he’s back in their care right now and basically his dialysis isn’t really working anymore and his kidneys are a lot worse and they’ve said to prepare for bad news. They said it could be tomorrow or 6 months from now there’s no way of knowing. But his kidneys are failing and yeah the dialysis is no longer enough.

My mum was already booking flights to go back out to Spain at the end of this month because they went out with my Uncle end of February but they had to finish up some paperwork that went wrong so were gonna go out in March. But I’ve asked if she can now book me a ticket on the flight too because usually I go out in October to see him but I don’t think he’ll have that long and I want to be able to see him even just once because I didn’t get that with my Grandma as this was during major lockdown that she got cancer and it broke me not being able to see her one last time.

When my other Granddad who came to live with us during the pandemic as he got sick. When he got ill I got to see him in the hospital the night before he died and honestly I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than not being there for the last moments with my Grandma because some people thought it might be better that I hadn’t seen her like that and could remember her as she was. But after going through both experiences I found it more comforting being able to be there with him in those moments than to not. I think both situations were very different though because of how the cancer affected her even she had said she was not wanting me to see her that way when we were planning to visit because it was on her mouth/jaw and it had gotten really swollen and she’d lost a lot of weight. But I saw my Granddad decline and that was tough but maybe that’s why it was comforting to be there in his last moments. Maybe they were right I hadn’t seen my Grandma since Covid so to then see her so deteriorated might’ve been more shocking than my Granddad because I was there with him throughout everything you know.

So I guess it is different but with my Granddad in Spain he’s been on dialysis for 8 years now and we’ve always gone into this knowing dialysis only works for so long and then that’s it so in a way I have had a long time to prepare myself for it like my other grandparents went from being so healthy to so sick overnight but my Granddad in Spain it was always clear he wasn’t healthy he had heart issues in his family he’d had a lot of strokes and then he went on dialysis and that was it we knew he had roughly 10 years to live and that was it. But honestly hearing it said out loud it’s still a shock like you think you have prepared yourself for it because you know it’s inevitable. I knew he’d lived longer than they expected because we found out that at his age turns out the dialysis wasn’t meant to last 10 years not even as long as it has so far but idk it was just a lot hearing it and after losing my granddad last year and my grandma the year before that it’s a lot of grief in a short amount of time and I feel like just as it’s starting to sting a little bit less when I see things that remind my of my Granddad around the house or when we are out and now I’m going to relive all of that again with my Granddad and it’s just a lot. And I know I just have to sit here and endure it because there’s no magic pill to take away and numb the pain of grief. It literally just is time. I have to just give it time and maybe eventually it’ll hurt less but fuck he’s the only grandparent I have left and we don’t really have any other close family. I haven’t even seen my cousins since I was a kid we’re not that close really. And my uncle on my dad’s side and my cousins on that side don’t talk to us because my dad and Uncle had a falling out because my Uncle was only caring about the inheritance and couldn’t be fucked to come visit my Granddad at all and did nothing to help care for him and it upset my Granddad a lot which upset my dad and they already had fallen out years back because he did a similar thing when my nan died literally came into my Granddads house after my nans funeral and took a bunch of stuff including an anniversary present my granddad had gotten her and a bunch of stuff that was really sentimental to him. Then they sold it all of and actually made him PAY to buy one of the items back that they stole out of his house. So yeah that’s a whole other issue though but it’s just when my Granddads gone that’ll be every grandparent gone and no other close relatives left and it’s just hard.

[blu-joons]

DATING ATEEZ A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴  Choi San

A ⇴ AFFECTION 

Any affection that you received from San always made you feel incredibly comfortable. As his name suggested, he was always a great warm blanket that wrapped around you to make you feel happy and protected.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING 

The two of you exchanged glances in a coffee shop, San the first to smile, and you soon to follow. It didn’t take long for him to decide to head over and introduce himself to you, not wanting to spend the afternoon sat at a table all alone. You quickly invited him to join him making sure to introduce yourself too.

C ⇴ CONFESSION 

Getting to know each other was something that you took quite slow, and so when San decided to confess to you at the end of an evening together at the bowling alley, you were more than surprised. His sudden confession threw you, but you couldn’t hide your relief as you found out that he felt strongly about you, as you were beginning to doubt whether you were the only one who had feelings for him.

D ⇴ DATES 

San loved to take you out on physical dates, after his confession, the bowling alley became quite a special place for the two of you, but spots like the arcade and the crazy golf were often popular for you too. San loved showing off to you how physically strong he was, and although he wasn’t a highly competitive person, he still ended up winning almost every single time the two of you played against each other. His skill and his body were two things that you could just never compete against, no matter how hard you tried.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE 

Messing around was something that San wasn’t interested in, he wanted a meaningful relationship or nothing, which was why he took the start of things with you very slow. Whilst he’d grown up watching many of his friends barely reach a hundred days with their partner, that never interested San. Instead, he wanted to wait, he wanted something that he saw a future with, he wasn’t going to waste his time messing around in small relationships, and with you, he definitely saw that future he dreamed of.

F ⇴ FIGHTING 

The fear that something could go horribly wrong was what terrified San the most whenever the two of you argued, of course your relationship meant a lot, but when he knew you weren’t happy about something, worst case scenario often came to mind. San could be quite insecure at the best of times, so when your voice got particularly loud or your frustrations were pretty serious, doubt would always creep in. Time was definitely a healer for the two of you though, even on the rare times that San got frustrated at you too, eventually you’d both come back together and sort through whatever the problem was.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY 

Introducing you to his grandparents was the biggest deal for San, they’d always hoped he’d find someone specially, and thankfully, you lived up to those expectations. Seeing how happy he was with you when he brought you to their house was all they’d ever wanted to see, relieved that he’d found it too.

H ⇴ HOME 

Wherever you tended to be was usually where San would call home. Although he loved being at the dorm, he loved to spend his time with you too, whether it was the studio, your place, or sometimes even a member of either of your family’s, that was always where San would be happiest, and feel most at home.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU” 

As work began to pick up for the new comeback, you could tell San was struggling quite a lot, comparing himself to others and beating himself down. One evening, you tried desperately to reassure him and comfort him, finishing your talk with him by letting you know if nothing else, for the first time, you loved him.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY 

Those insecurities he had would often creep in whenever he was feeling jealous, if someone was a little taller, or funnier, than San would quickly begin to doubt. He was amazing at using his smile to hide his true feelings around most people, but you weren’t most people. By the look in his eye, you could always tell how he was feeling, and knowing that usually it meant he was beating himself down too, you’d quickly excuse yourself from the conversation, taking San with you to make sure that he wasn’t hard on himself.

K ⇴ KIDS 

Having a family with you was definitely something that San saw in the future, he could only dream of having a relationship as special with kids and grandkids of his own as he did with his own grandparents. Whilst a family felt like a long way off for you both, neither of you let that stop you often talking about how you saw your family turning out in the future and all the things you’d be able to do too.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER 

San was one of the mood makers of the group, always trying to make those around him laugh, and especially so whenever he was around you. He loved to mess around, and usually would do whatever it took to bring a smile to your face. On the days when you’d had it particularly rough, San would always be there to greet you with a joke, rather than hello, in the hope that he could get you smiling as quickly as possible and forgetting about your terrible day. Seeing you laugh around him always gives his own confidence a boost too, especially if he’s been feeling a little insecure about things recently too.

M ⇴ MISSING 

Whenever he missed you on tour, San would always try and distract himself by reading or visiting the gym, but those distractions would almost always lead him straight back to you. In the end, he’d usually find himself ringing you in the hope that seeing your face and hearing your voice would stop him thinking about you for a while. The boys would often be able to pick up on when he was missing you too, as he’d always get a little quieter around them. Whilst he often created the mood, he could only do that for so long before he began to feel pretty low himself that you weren’t there to enjoy it with them.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES 

San often gave you nicknames based on characters that he read from some of his favourite books. The striking resemblance to some of them amazed him, even though you usually had no idea what he was talking about.

O ⇴ OBSESSION 

He’s obsessed with your laugh, hearing it, and being able to make you laugh are by far two of San’s most favourite things in the world.

P ⇴ PDA 

Any time that you’re out in public, Chan is always comforting in his affection, usually with an arm around your waist. He understands that at times it can often be overwhelming for you, but rather than make a big deal out of things, he’ll just remind you that he’s there and then worries more when you’re in private.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS 

Throughout the day you’ll often end up getting asked if you want to hear a joke or a funny story. San just can’t help but share all the things that make him chuckle with you, however ridiculous some of them might sound.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS 

San’s collection of plushies is something that can only astonish, but as the two of you celebrated your first anniversary, San decided to make you one of your own. You loved to sleep with his plushies, especially when he was away, and so he decided to make two, one of him, and one of you, that you could swap with one another to cuddle up to at night whenever the two of you were away from one another.

S ⇴ SEX 

He was always incredibly loving whenever it came to intimacy, San was never someone who enjoyed a quick fix, or hiding out at work, he much preferred to do things the romantic, and more gentlemanly way. He’d always take his time, listen to your body, and make sure that he worked especially hard on all of the parts of your body that you felt insecure about, as you always did with him too.

T ⇴ TEXTS 

You’d often get random texts from San throughout your day, just making sure that you were alright. If you crossed his mind, it was an instinct for him to text you and check in that you were having a good day.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE 

As much as San could pick up the atmosphere in any room, so could you, and so together the two of you would always be reason for trouble around the other members, always keeping them smiling with your antics together.

V ⇴ VACATION 

Even though San loved to relax from work at times, he hated sitting around and doing nothing on holidays too. Going away was all about adventure for him, he loved exploring with you and finding places, no matter how hidden the were, to look around, and make sure that you created lasting memories there too.

W ⇴ WHINING 

He would never whine around you; San was incredibly understanding of the fact sometimes the two of you just needed time apart from each other to relax.

X ⇴ XXXXX 

San very much loved to kiss you kisses, as much as he loved to receive them too. He loved being able to make you feel better about with a kiss and remind you that he was there, but he also loved the little boosts of confidence that always came whenever you were there to give him a kiss, however quick or long it was. San would still always make sure to savour each one and repay the favour when he could.

Y ⇴ YOU 

You were his reassurance, always there to make him feel better about himself.

Z ⇴ ZZZ 

As much as you loved sharing a bed with San, somehow you always ended up waking up the following morning surrounded by plushies. You’d often end up having to bury through them just to see his face.

---

Masterlist

[babytaes]

the grim reaper(my home)

summary:  Everyone depicts the Grim Reaper as a bad character, but he didn't kill you. It's just a trip to the afterlife, and he's actually being helpful by walking you there. Consider what it would be like if you had to travel alone. As she battles through life, Jay meets an unexpected figure, yet she doesn't seem to be terrified of him when he comes knocking on her door, why?

paring: jay x female reader

genre: angst, slight fluff

word count: 6k

warnings: profanity, ummmm rock chic jay.

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: click me before reading!

➳ part of the drunk & dazed series

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

I wish that everyone knew how their lives ended. It's essentially a game of guessing what will happen to you. Don't even get me started on the subject of Heaven and Hell. You've heard it all, the misery and the heinous methods in which people go out.

But why did death come knocking on the door at such an early age? You'll never know why they chose this age.

You didn't have your entire life laid out for you, nah, what a waste. Seeing it, however, was strange.

Well, there's him, or whatever entity they're referring to. The Grim Reaper.

You didn't notice him until things began to go wrong for you. A black object flashed in and out all of a sudden.

It was more predictable than unexpected.

Usually you would see him after work but I guess he had other plans. Despite your exhaustion, you flopped down on the couch and pulled out your phone to conduct an online search.

You giggled as you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and eventually peeked up to see a dark figure seated across from you.

As you laid your phone down and peered at the figure, you said, "So he finally wants to show his face."

“Don't tell me you can see me right now?” he cocks his head and looks about before returning to you.

“Well, I've only seen glimpses of you for the previous few weeks, but now I'm seeing you in all your glory.”

“Shit” As he hurriedly shot back into the dark shadows behind him, he widened his eyes.

“Wait a minute, don't leave.”

He was still there, hidden from view. He wasn't ready to leave yet. As you moved over to the door, you rolled your eyes at your phone and grabbed your apron. As you put your shoes back on, you exclaim and awkwardly wave your hand in the air before closing the door.

“You better be here when I get back, and keep in mind that we have business to discuss."

He rolled his eyes at your strange conduct as he smiled gently before vanishing back into the dark abyss, now entirely gone from your home.

---

“So Jay, what's on the agenda in Reaper business?” He noticed his old acquaintance gleaming at him as he peered up from his chair.

“Well, Jake, the previous several weeks have been a complete nightmare. They paired me up with this tough guy who was fighting for his life. As he continued, he rolled his eyes.

“It's been quite tranquil since they reassigned me to another case, but something strange happened today. I inadvertently made myself obvious to her, but she was unconcerned.

“Weird.” Jake shook his head and cocked his head to the side as he called out to him.

“So, two pieces of information I just got: it's a girl, and she appears to be somewhat odd. When you get back, I'd like to hear more about this."

As you put on a strange expression, he smiled at the boy as he spoke about jobs he had recently gone on.

“Yeah, there's something odd about it,” 

“I also—wait a minute, Jay, I recognize that look.” Jake pauses in his speech for a moment as he approaches you and analyzes your body.

“Please, dude, take a step back.”

He hears on the intercom times for a meeting today for all Reapers to attend, and he laughs at you. Jake makes a peace sign as he hits the door's slab and vanishes from view.

Sitting back in your chair, you raise your feet and begin to formulate a strategy.

“What am I doing here? I'm a doer. Let me just return to her and have that conversation she requested.”

He steps into form and vanishes back to the house he used to be in, softly cheering to himself.

Surprisingly, he can hear your voice but not yet see you, so he emerges from the shadows and takes a stroll through your home, taking in your life.

He saw photos of dogs and people he assumed were family and friends, as well as one thing that attracted his attention.

As he approaches it, he enters a familiar room and sighs as he makes his way to the gleaming object. It was a bracelet with scribing on it of some type.

When he reaches out to pick it up, he feels a searing feeling and drops it swiftly, muttering a torrent of curse words.

“What the hell was that?” When he looks closely, he notices symbols that resemble a cross.

“Fuckin Christ,” 

“Do all Reapers barge into your house and search through their belongings on the spur of the moment, or is mine defective?”

Jay, who has jumped up in panic, apologizes by turning around and raising his hands. When he glances up, he notices you resting on the door frame, arms folded, staring at him.

“Well, let's just put this inconvenience behind us and have that conversation you wanted to have, hmm?”

“All right, let's go into the living room, and by the way, your style is really fashionable. I had no idea you people dressed up so well to steal souls. Are there any employment openings?”

As he comes to a halt in his tracks, you turn your head to face him and stare at his unmoving form.

“Hellooo, please don't tell me they gave me a defective one. Jeez”

For a brief moment, everything came to a halt as Jay regained his bearings. "That was strange. Why am I blanking out because she's so strange?”

With a shake of his head, he smiles at you and walks into the living room, where he sits across from you, still perplexed as to who and what you are.

It wasn’t human-like.

“Thank you, no one seemed to realize that the original reaper gear wasn't cutting it for me. Also, I'm presuming you're a young adult, so you know what I'm talking about.”

You pull closer to him, laughing at his words, and lay your elbows on your legs, intently listening to him.

“So Grandma was right, you guys do exist. Tell me more; you know I don't appear to have much time left, so give me your answers.”

He let out a chuckle as he hastily covered his mouth, daring not to be affected by the earth.

He'd been doing this work for quite some time and appeared to be quite confident in himself and his abilities.

But there was something about you that made him feel comfortable and at ease, and he didn't feel like he had to hide, very apparent when a patient screamed at him or when they insisted death hadn't arrived yet.

It was strange, but it was great not to have to put on a show. Outside of the Reaper, he almost forgot who he was for a moment.

Maybe this one could get to know you, the cool yet elegant Jay. Not the dark version of himself. Even if his ultimate goal is to accompany you to the hereafter.

Maybe, just maybe, in that slim possibility, he'll take advantage of this opportunity to learn more about this person and why they're so interested in you.

---

“Before we jump right into this game, I have a question for you: why aren't you terrified of me?” As he stared at your blank expression, he spat out.

“Well, as I already stated, my grandma was a firm believer in the unknown. Even though she is no longer with us, she has taught me a great deal about the supernatural and unknown.”

You got up and walked over to the kitchen, motioning for him to follow you before opening the refrigerator and taking some fresh fruit out.

Jay promptly stood up and walked over to the chair, where he sat, watching your every move as you leapt onto the counter and turned to face him, before placing a mango slice into your mouth.

“All right, my turn, what's your name and what's my illness?”

Jay coughed and sat up straight as he removed a piece of paper from his pocket and read it loudly before setting it down.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you've been diagnosed with Heart Disease, and things aren't looking well for you. I know you haven't been to the doctor in a while, which is also perplexing. And my name is Jay.”

You place the fruit down next to you and cross your legs before responding to his comment, shaking your head up and down.

“Well, that's true; it runs in the family, but I'm not concerned because time is never on our side, and we all have an expiry date, which I believe is approaching soon. Right?”

Jay knew you just had one week left, but he didn't want to break your cheerful mood, so he waited.

“Well, I can't tell you when you'll die just yet, but your time is running out. I'm sure it's terrifying, but-”

Before concealing your lips, you chuckle loudly. Jay snickered as he looked up at you.

“Man, you're such a strange person; how do you manage to be so confident and direct? I'm becoming a little afraid, and I'm the Grim Reaper.” You leap from the countertop and walk over to him.

You cocked your head to the side and placed your hands on his face, pushing your face towards him. As you smile, his face flushes, and as he pulls away from you, he coughs before moving his hand to encourage you to continue.

“You have nice eyes, you know. Okay, now I'll tell you my story. Instead of countless questions, I believe it would be simpler.”

He just nods his head and lets you continue talking about your life.

---

As we all crossed the bridge into the next city over, you glanced out the window at the water. You'd always enjoyed being near water. It brought up memories of trips you and your grandparents took together.

When you arrived at your location, you grabbed your suitcase and exited the vehicle, leaving your parents behind.

“Are you sure you don't want to join us?” As they drove out of the parking lot and onto their vacation, you shook your head and waved farewell to them.

Even though you were 17, you still enjoyed going to your grandparents' house because it provided a sense of security that you didn't have at home. So you'd take them in a heartbeat.

Looking up, you notice Pops standing at the door, arms outstretched, waiting for you.

“There is my favorite grandchild.”

“Gramps, I'm your only grandchild,” you said, laughing as you took him in your arms and grinned as you stepped into the house.

“Oh, that's right.” He takes your stuff and starts to take it to your allotted room while laughing together. “Your Grams is out back,” he shouts as he approaches the top.

‘Thanks” When you walk out to the backyard, you'll find her sitting in her iconic chair, surrounded by books, muttering to herself. She puts the book down and leans in to hug you as she stands up.

“Aww, I've missed you so much. There's just so much you can talk about with your grandfather before he falls asleep. Please have a seat; we have a lot to discuss."

There's a sensation you've been missing, a sense of belonging to a place you once called home. They were the only ones who could supply you with a sense of safety and security, and you couldn't get enough of it.

“We talked about witches and wizards the last time we were here. Now we're dealing with Reapers, or more precisely Grim.”

When she stated those two words, your eyes lit up; it was a favorite topic of yours that she brought up frequently, but now you had more time to delve deeper.

“Let's get started; we've got a lot of ground to cover. Allow us to see The Unknown by opening our eyes. “Are you wearing your bracelet?”

“I never take it off,” you say. You shook your right arm and returned your hand to hers, shaking your head.

As you were swept away in a dark mist together, you grinned and took her hands in yours. Even though they appear to be ordinary, decent folks, there is something you should know about my grandparents. They are one of many people who have gained entrance to the supernatural realm, a place where anything is possible.

You tried to inform your parents, but they were skeptical of fairy tales. They tried to prevent you from seeing them, claiming that "they will stunt my growth," which is ridiculous because I've learnt more from my grandparents than from my parents.

Regardless of how hard they tried to stop you, you always managed to find your way back to them. We were linked, and nothing could stop you until YOU chose to let it. That day, however, never came.

You found yourself in a boat, holding your grandmother's hand, as it carried you across a vast chasm and into town. You come upon another boat that appears to be some kind of creature with a scythe. As he traveled down the river opposite you, strands of golden hair protruded from beneath his hood.

“Wait, don't tell me that person on the river was you now that I think about it?”

“I think it was, man, that was a long time ago,” Jay laughed and shook his head. Also, I had no idea you had access to that world?”

“Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get back to the story.” As you spoke, he grinned.

“All right, honey, let's go; we can't linger for too long.” You both stepped off the boat and walked into town, taking in the sights. As you climbed the slope, merchants' stands and buildings crept up on you. It was weird to see individuals of all kinds here, going about their daily lives in the same way that those on the surface did.

You see vampires, werewolves, angels, and even ghouls all lingering together and with one another as you walk side by side with your grams. Despite the fact that they all had their own lives to live, they could join together to gather supplies and meals.

What a wonderful thing

You both entered a familiar building, and your grandma greeted the old man behind the counter.

“Oh, my favorite customers. What brings you down here and how is life above the surface? Another book you have in mind.”

Your Grams smiled as she let go of your hand and approached the man at the front of the bookstore, “you always know Melvin.”

As they conversed, you strolled through the big store on your way to the second floor. Before reaching the top, you yell out to Melvin.

“I'm hoping you'll let me take one.”

“Anything for my sweet Y/N, go ahead and look, there's a new one up there.” You hurried up the steps and across to the Book Wall, grinning ear to ear. From baby dragons to spell books, there was something for everyone. Anything you can imagine Melvin’s shop had it all.

When you took one off the shelf, you were greeted by a young boy who stood next to you. You couldn't tell if he was your age since down here, time moves at a different pace than it does on the surface. Still he looked quite young.

It was pleasant to see the creatures up close, even if you had never met them before. You stepped away from him, afraid of his reaction, and made your way to the chair sections. You sat down and picked up a book titled "The Origins of Reapers."

“How did you get here? I've never seen a girl human down here before.” You looked up from your book to see the boy you'd seen previously, frightened that he'd do something. You closed your eyes and shook your bracelet in front of his face.

As he waited for you to settle down, he laughed and sat next to you.

“I'm not going to harm you; all I wanted to do was ask a question. My name is Jake, what is yours?”

“My name is Y/N, and my grandparents have access to the world, so I tag along occasionally, may I inquire what you are?” you said slowly as you sat up straight.

He shifted in his seat and grinned, his face more dog-like. How could you be afraid of him?

“Well, don't be afraid of me since I'm a Grim Reaper in Training. I'm fairly innocuous. It's nice to see a human down here; normally, we only see humans when it's their time.”

You hear your grandmother calling from downstairs before he can continue.

“Coming”

You return his gaze and apologize as you rise, book in hand, and make your way to the stairwell.

“It was a pleasure to meet such a lovely human; please pay a visit to the Reaper Realm when you return. Simply request Jake.” He gave you a wave before yelling at Melvin.

“I'm leaving Melvin; my book is on your desk up here.”

As you return your attention to Jake, you hear Melvin's remark, but he vanishes into thin air as you descend the steps. Your grandmother expresses her gratitude to Melvin for the choice and exits through the front door.

“Are you all set to depart, sweetie?” With a shake of your head, you bid Melvin farewell as you close the door and return to the boat, where you sit down and take your gram's hand in yours.

"Let's go home," says your grandmother.

---

“So yeah, I've been traveling there with them ever since they introduced me to your world.” You came to a halt in the middle of your walk and coughed, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“My grandparents died a few years ago, and I haven't been back in a long time because I used to only go with them. It was doubly difficult because they both died on the same day, and she was telling me that she could see him on that day. I'm hoping she meant the Reaper, because they were the last thing to see them leave.”

You grabbed his arms on the spur of the moment and violently shook them.

“I know you must have records someplace, but could you please assist me in locating them as part of my dying wish? At the very least, let me see where they went; I need to know if they're okay.”

So this was the true you, the one in desperate need of a reconnection with the Gone. You received your response and devised a plan.

“Hey, don't worry... I'll see what I can do.  But there's no guarantee. I wasn't on the case at the time, so I'll have to do some digging, but I'll try.  “Can you tell me their names?”

Wiping tears from your eyes, you rose from your chair and dashed to your room, calling him over.

When you opened a box from under your bed, there were wonderful memories from you and your grandparents inside. You attempted to obtain more, but everything was returned to the Underworld, leaving you with only this.

Jay knelt down and picked up a photograph of you and them. They were regulars, and he had seen them around town. Hopefully, in the short time she had left, you could help her.

“Elizabeth and Albert Marvin were their names. I'm not sure if there's anything else I can do to assist you, but please do your best." As you hurriedly covered your mouth with your palm, a harsh cough came from your throat, and your chest began to throb as you placed your hand on your heart.

It was obvious that time was not on your side. You rise off the ground and walk over to Jay, looking up at him. You wrapped your arms around his frigid body, engulfing him in a hug.

Jay stood there awkwardly with his arms down as he gently moved you off and returned to the couch area.

“Like I said, there's no guarantee that I'll find them, and who knows, they could not even be alive. But I’ll try my best. It was a pleasure to speak with you, but I must depart because we are running out of time.”

He gave you a beeper before vanishing.

“Please page me on here if you need to reach me; I'll do my best to respond. You look after yourself.” 

You waved farewell as he left your house and returned to his, where he continued his exhaustive investigation.

He didn't want to let you down because he felt such a responsibility to you. He would complete whatever task he was given. He would do anything for you if he could see that smile on your face.

“Let's get down to business.”

---

 “Jay...Jay wake up” As you awoke slowly from your arms, you felt a push on your shoulder. As your eyes adjusted to the bright light, it took some time to figure out who was interrupting you.

“W-What exactly is it, Jake?” You and Jake have been coming in every day for the past five days, attempting to find a solution to your problem. Jake may have discovered something despite the difficulties.

“So, I just had an epiphany,  last time I saw Y/N she was at Melvin bookstore, so let's see if he knows anything about them.” You leapt from your chair and snatched a jacket as you ushered Jake out the door and toward Melvin.

For you and y/n, things were starting to look up.

Maybe you were going to do something good for one of your friends souls.

As you and Jake approached Melvin's business, you inhaled deeply and opened the door, eager to hear what he had to say to you.

Melvin's attention was drawn to the bell sound, and he looked up from his spectacles, saying, "Hey youngsters, what brings you here?"

“Well, we had a question for you regarding an old friend of yours, does Elizabeth Marvin ring a bell?” He pulled a photograph from his back pocket and presented it to him; his face darkened as he held the photograph in his hands and smiled broadly at it.

“Oh, my favorite customers. I don't have much information, but the last time they were in here, they were in a hurry and seemed concerned. “We have to make the crossing,” Elizabeth kept emphasizing.

As you and Jake turned to each other, you both had a frightened expression on your faces.

“Don't tell me they took the Crossing, shit,” says Jay You turned around and proceeded towards the door, thanking Melvin, while Jake grinned and waved farewell before heading out the door. He discovered you slumped against the wall, head down, groaning.

“Jay, please don't thin-”

“Keep your mouth shut Jake, because you know no one survives the Crossing without a guide. There are just too many wicked spirits out there, and you and I both know that getting to the finish is impossible. Jay growled as he stood up and kicked whatever was closest to him.

“Ugh, why did I do that?” 

Jake approached his friend and patted his back, unsure of how he would react. It was a small gesture. He knew it was impossible, but he didn't want his best friend to know. They still needed to be encouraged.

“I'm going back to headquarters to see what else we can find; meet me back there, okay?” As he watched Jake go from his sight, Jay nodded and thanked him for his assistance.

He didn't know what else to do, so he had to break the dreadful news to you. It turned out to be for the best. He was good at one thing: conveying bad information to others. What an ironic Reaper. With a shake of your head, you prepared to go to Y/N's flat.

Here goes nothing.

Jay was gone in a flash of dust and now stood in a familiar location, squinting as everything appeared to be different. Jay spotted clothes strewn on the floor, dishes scattered in the sink, and the bathroom's random lights flashing.

He was so preoccupied with the status of the house that he didn't see that your time was slowly eating away at you, that you were holed up under blankets in the bedroom with chest discomfort and dizziness that came and went.

Your once-young body was losing its ability to hold on to life. As you coughed loudly and grinned as you motioned for him to come over to you, you looked up and noticed him standing in the doorway.

You quietly sighed as you slowly climbed up, your hand resting on your chest.

‘So-so any news captain. “I need something to take my mind off the pain.”

As he prepared his message, Jay didn't make eye contact with you as he lifted your blanket over your body and patted it down. This felt different than relaying bad news as the “BIG AND BAD GRIM REAPER” As he was going to burst your bubble, something inside ached. What do people refer to it as? Sadness.

What exactly did you do to him?

“So, Y/N, please wait until I finish before you speak.” He took a big breath and continued, his lips curling in. “We've at a dead end; Jake and I spoke with Melvin, who indicated they were discussing the "Crossing," which in Grim Reaper lingo means "no go." That's a place where no one ever returns; it's only conceivable if you have a guide, which I'm not sure they did. They could be lost or worse, stolen by a spirit, for all I know. I-, I'm sorry, but I'm not sure.”

He heard your voice and looked down, avoiding eye contact. "It's okay Jay,"   He jerked up and glanced at your frail form, perplexed and terrified. In the light of your candle, he could see better, but death was creeping up on him. He just had a day  before he had to take you. He wasn't pleased with the situation or with you.

“It was a big ask, but I'm happy you and Jake did your hardest,” you said, a tear streaming down your cheek. That's all I requested, and despite the fact that it didn't work out, I liked the gesture, so thank you.”

“Thanks for doing business with you,” you said with a grin on your face as you extended your hand to him. As you looked him in the eyes, he took your weak hands in his and gently shook them.

“What, do I have something on my face? I don't want to appear unkempt.” You laughed and reached for your hands to be unlatched from his grip. Rather than releasing go, he drew you closer to him and kissed your gentle lips.

As you released each other, he wasn't thinking; in reality, he was panicked.

“Um- I don’t know what that is but I have to go. Sorry, I'll pick you up tomorrow-” “Please don't go,” you said as you took a big breath and clutched his hand. If I'm being honest, I'm afraid, and I could use some companionship before I take my final breath.”

“Sleep well y/n, we have a long walk tomorrow,” he said as he sat down on the bed and took your hand in his again before turning off the lamp. When you felt a squeeze in your palm, you smiled and laid over, allowing sleep to take control.

---

You were startled awake by Jay, who sat across from you, peering at the clock, as though intently staring at it.

You scooted up and waved a hand in front of his face to grab his attention, but he continued to stare at the clock.

“You have a few hours left, you know? Sorry, I was just doing some math." He turned to face you as you stumbled out of bed, grasping the bedside table before lifting yourself up like a drunk woman.

“Oh, well, it appears that my body is shutting down. Fun.” As you pushed him out of the room, you gave him a thumbs up.

“Let me get dressed; I want to look my best for when I DIE!” Jay was startled and furrowed his brows as he walked slowly to his seat, pondering why this generation was so eager to die.

You put on a cute hoodie your grandmother gave you and threw on some pants. As you fumbled about for shoes, you heard Jay ask a question from the other side of the door that made you pause.

'Are you going to call your parents or someone else?'

When you think back on your life, you were in theirs, but not much of them were in yours, which made you resentful of them. You didn't dislike them; you just preferred to spend your time and energy with people who made you feel at ease.

Your grandparents made you feel that way and you didn't have time to waste on people who you could care less about.

“I guess I'll send a text over.” Huffing, you took out your phone and entered your message into an already-created group chat.

"Hey guys, I'm not feeling well, could you come tomorrow?" you say.

(read 10:25 a.m.)

(typing bubbles)

(bubbles disappears)

Mom: This is such a last-minute thing, but your father and I are leaving tomorrow for a business trip that will last a week. Maybe when we come back. I'll send Sylvia over because I gave her the day off. “Be careful.”

Throwing your phone you yelled aggressively as you looked around your space. Even while you're dying, they don't give a damn about you. What is fucking family anymore?  You took one final look at your bed before stepping out and calling Jay, as if you didn't care any longer.

“Hey you good, I heard screaming but didn't want to interrupt if you were nude or something,” he said, looking up at your hesitant face. As you passed him on your way to the door, a smile crept across your lips.

“Oh shut up, come on, I got a request.”

Jay got up and walked past you as you turned to see your whole life stored away in a small space. Even if you didn't know where Jay would lead you, you had a feeling it would be better, right?

“Goodbye” As you walked slowly to your car in the parking lot, you grabbed Jay's hand in yours as you closed the door. As you held his hand even more, you felt it tense up.

“Hey what was that for?”

“You whine a lot, don't you? Come on, I've got a few more dying wishes before you take me and send me off somewhere, let's fucking go.”

He saw you let go of your hand as you walked to the opposite side of your car, hopped in, and turned on the ignition.

“Are you sure you're up for this? I don't want you passing out on me.”

Jay rushed next to you as he reached for your shoulder as a cough steadily burst from your throat, causing you to grasp your chest in anguish. You shook your head and gave your body a couple shakes as you waved your hand at him.

“I'm good, you know the exact time, so give me a heads up whenever I'm close.” “Anyway, less about my condition and more on the fun we're about to have.”

You put your foot on the brake and drove out the parking lot and on your way to the boardwalk that was a good distance away.

“Sit back, it'll be around 2 hours before we get to my favorite spot.”

Jay offered you a troubled expression as he laid his head on the window, pondering the time you had left while gazing out the window.

*8 hours left, you had eight hours left*

---

Coming up over the infamous hill, you notice the blue seas and immediately begin to brighten up as you repeatedly punch Jay in the arm.

“Jay... Jay... JAYYYY loook were here,” He grabbed your hand and swung it the other way before slowly turning to face you before your final punch. Don't bother Reapers while they're asleep; they don't get enough sleep as it is, and constantly bringing souls is exhausting.

“Please stopp I heard you the first five fucking times.” As he turned back to face the water, he rolled his eys and chuckled a little. The way the waves drenched the salty surface back and forth was more than simply water; it was an artwork.

Even though this might be your last moments on earth, you were glad you found someone to spend them with as you saw Jay's look. You put your hand on his shoulder and signaled for you to depart.

He stepped out of the car, mesmerized by the quiet waters, and walked over to your side, his gaze never leaving the sea.

“It's strange, I've seen my days of oceans before, and I've probably gone to all of them many times, but this one feels different. For a little moment, I forgot I wasn't human. Oh that remind me”

Jay rotated in a circle as he appeared to you dressed in more fashionable attire to placate the human crowd. He clutched your arm as he lost his footing for a second, then raced forward towards the boardwalk, thanking you.

“Hurry up, I didn't transform into a normal male for nothing, I want to see what you folk do up here.” He sneaked a glimpse at you as you laughed heartily at him, and before he knew it, you were running past him, his hand in yours, and on your way to the boardwalk's many attractions.

Spilled ice cream cups, lost money from arcade games, the sides of yours and his faces scorching from a lack of sunscreen, and not to mention the continual brushing of each other's hands were all part of the day. You took Jay's hand as the crowds filtered off the boardwalk and brought him to one of your favorite areas, the sand. As you approach the ocean now that the sun has lowered somewhat, it feels chilly.

As you stand in the cool ocean, letting the waves wash over your feet and taking a deep breath, attempting to relax, you feel a touch on your back. When you open your eyes, you notice Jay standing next to you, his gaze fixed on you. You laughed and placed your head on his shoulder; he didn't flinch or react this time.

He'd become accustomed to it and even loved it.

“How much time do we have left? Will I miss the sunset? Please say no.” You drooped your lips and glanced towards him, anxiously awaiting his response.

“Don't worry, you'll have time,” he said, taking your hand in his and pulling you down further away from the water as you both watched at the ball of light travelling toward the horizon.

The dazzling and flaming sun began to be swallowed by the sky as nightfall approached. The sky suddenly fills with beautiful, rich colors ranging from soothing blues to powerful reds and bright oranges, and finally thin, melancholy clouds.

Jay drew you closer, which surprised you, but you didn't mind because it was getting colder and fewer people were leaving the beach, leaving fragments of people strewn about. Jay drew your attention to himself before relaying the news to you.

Allow me to speak before I say what I truly need to say; these past three weeks have been incredible and eye-opening. I had no idea there were individuals out there that battled and were as brave as you. I understand how difficult it must be to go through all of these changes, but-”

A tear trickled down your face as you coughed, interrupting his speech.

*10 minutes left*

“Oh don’t start crying,” “All I wanted to say is thank you for allowing me to experience something different than my typical routine,” you joked as you pushed his chest. I don't get out very often, but tonight was enjoyable; I hope it distracted you from your worries.”

As you clasped your chest and pulled Jay out of worry, a fast cough attack hit your system.

*5 minutes left*

“I-i woul-l-d love to talk more about our fond memories but my chest is hurting and I think you need to get to the point.” You unbunched his shirt from your fist and let him continue, smiling despite your pain.

He embraced you in his arms because he was afraid he wouldn't have enough time to relay everything.

“Fuck it” 

He drew you in and kissed you again, this time more passionately than before. Your heart skipped a beat as heat rose from your stomach to your chest, and you weren't sure if it was a legitimate emotion or your condition was approaching. As you drew him closer to you, flinging your arms around his neck and smiling, the fragrance of salty sea water filled your nostrils. This moment, the taste of him… It calmed your racing thoughts and made you feel as if your heart was slowing down.

*1 minute left*

As you backed away from his kiss, your eyesight faded in and out, and as you looked about, your vision in the inner corners of your eyes started to go black. It was occurring, and your time was running out. You staggered into Jay's arms as he spoke into your ear, looking back at him.

“See you on the other side Y/N”

---

When you first awoke, you peered around at the dark waters, then looked up to see the real Jay. His Scythe's blade gleamed in the moonlight, and his velvet hood blew in the breeze. Not turning around you heard his voice, distinctly differently than before.

“Get ready, we're closing in on our dock.”

You slowly stood up and felt a prickling sensation on your wrist as you noticed your bracelet was lightly shining, something it had never done before. Perhaps it was the moonlight reflecting off of it.

You observed three figures standing at the dock through the mist and tried to figure out who they were. You didn't realize it until you got off the boat.

“Gramps and Gram, what?” Your voice trembled as tears streamed down your cheeks. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“Is this a joke,” As you grabbed them in a deep hug, a hand pushed you closer to them.

“We missed you pumpkin.” You turned around and went towards the dark figure, making sure not to hit his Scythe as you drew Jay into a hug as you got snot on his coat.

“I thought you said you couldn't find them,” you remarked. “I had given up hope.” His face was obscured by a black gloom, so you couldn't see him.

“Um, sorry but could you change back to your normal self, just this once.” Jay reappeared in his usual body, simply regular old Jay, in a split second.

“I apologize for forgetting about that, but please don't thank me. It was all my pal Jake over there.” You turned around and raced over to Jake, hugging him and almost shoving him off the dock.

“Thank you thank you so much, I owe you one.” “Don't worry about it,” he said as he stepped back.

After letting go of him, you returned to the location where your grandparents were standing and took their hands in yours. It was time for you to leave, and all you had to do was walk away.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, you came to a halt and turned around to face him. It didn't take long for you to run back into his arms.

“I'm not usually this way, but I'm glad I found someone I can call a friend.” Jay, I hope we run across each other. Thank you for everything; I just wanted to let you know that your efforts are appreciated.”

You let him go and wave to him after pulling him into a goodbye kiss. You hear him calling out to you.

“I think I like you Y/N?”

“Well, I think we should talk about that the next time I see you.” You turn back and continue on your journey, giggling at his childish antics as you fade into the darkness.

As he and Jake hopped back into the boat to return home, Jay's smile never faded.

“I told you so”

“Oh shut it.”

He'd finally found that thing you'd always talked about, that haven where you felt so comfortable that the rest of the world couldn't possibly come crashing down around you. He was overjoyed to have discovered his HOME and vowed to do everything in his power to ensure he never lost it.

“See you soon Y/N.”

☆ ҉ ◢▅◣

➳ Navigate to the Maze

[georgiapeach30513]

Fluffy / Angsty request, possibly.

Otto and Ellie having a discussion with each other about biological fathers vs. actual fathers.

Comforting each other about the things they've heard regarding their 'real' dads and how awesome the ones who are there for them are. Kids over hear more than people think. Look at Abel asking about windows....

Aw! I love this, and Elli and Otto are so intuitive with each other, and best friends. And for them, even though Beck and Carter aren't their biological father, it's still two different situations. With Otto he's never met Dayton, so Carter is the only thing he's ever known. He's met Dayton's parents. But with Ellie she's seen both sides. She loves her daddy so much, and she is so conflicted on why he isn't there for her like Beck. Like Beck would drop whatever it is he's doing to go help his Pumpkin!

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Just Need Both

Summary: Ellie and Otto talk

Pairings: Ellie X Otto

Rating: 🥺🥺

Warnings: none, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 550

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Papa & Mimi's Grandbabies Masterlist

“Hey, O,” Ellis says raising her eyes to look up at Otto. The two of them spending a bit more time together since his baby brother Zephyr had been born. He looks up from his painting and stares at the cousin everyone mistakes for his twin. “Do you ever think about him?”

“Who?”

“Your real daddy,” it takes a moment for Otto to even recognize what she’s talking about. Sure, he sees his grandparents. But it’s not for long. And it’s not often. “Your Dayton daddy.”

“Not weawwy. Mama has a pictuwe of him, and shows it to me. But Cawtew, he’s my daddy. That’s why I wanted his wast name.”

The two sit in silence for a moment, but Ellie doesn’t return to her painting, so Otto looks back up at her, “Ewwie what’s wong?”

“You know I love my daddy.”

“But there’s awways a weason he can’t see you?” she nods at him, and Otto sits and thinks for a moment. “I wike Mickey.”

“Him and mommy fight every time they see each other.”

“He doesn’t fight wif you.”

“No, is wrong of me to think Beck is my dad. Like real dad?”

Otto shakes his head no. Turning his body to look at her, “Cawtew is not my weaw dad, but he’s awways there. Beck is awways thewe fow you. He does things wif you. Makes sense. That’s what makes Cawtew my dad. He wuvs me.”

“What about with baby Z? That’s his real kid.”

“I am too.”

“No, like…Dayton is your real dad. Carter is Z’s real dad,” Otto shrugs his shoulders but keeps his eyes on Ellie. “He hasn’t changed?”

“Spends mowe time wif me now. I don’t think daddy’s awe who makes you wif youw mama, but who takes cawe of you, spends time wif you. Like Cawtew, I see him evewyday, unwess he has to go out of town, but he FaceTimes us evewyday.”

“But Dayton is dead. My daddy isn’t. Can I have two dads?”

“Hmm,” Otto puts a hand up to his chin thinking. “What about a daddy and a dad? Do you want Beck to be youw dad?”

“I want them both, but I see Becks more, and and if him and mommy have babies what if…?”

“Nope. Don’t think wike that.”

“What?”

“If Becks was going to tweat you diffewent Azzie wouldn’t be with him. That’s a twue stowy.”

“You think so?” she asks looking much more hopeful.

“I know so. Same wif mom. If Cawtew tweated me diffewent, she wouldn’t be wif him. Our moms don’t have to be wif them. They want them. They loooove them. But they love us diffewent. We’re apawt of them and gwew in theiw tummy. You saw Z move in mama’s belly. Fow a yeaw, he was in thewe. It’s diffewent with mamas and babies. And Papa and Mimi would kick them out. They would. Becks loves you though. He calls you pumpkin. Mickey loves you, too he’s just…”

“It’s okay Otto,” she tries to reassure him that him saying he wasn’t there didn’t affect her, but sometimes it does. Beck is always so excited to see her, and to pick her up from school, Mickey comes around, and they have fun. But he doesn’t even call everyday. “I miss him. Becks isn’t my daddy.”

“And youw daddy isn’t Becks. You just need both of them. And it’s okay to have both. Evewyone is diffewent. Evewy famwly. My daddy has been with my mama before I was born. Iwis and James only have Posie, and can’t have more. Blade has too many desserts. Wucy has to find someone who wants to be with satan fiwst.”

Masterlist

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

A Need For Attention Pt 2 (Mycroft X Daughter!Reader)

Characters: Mycroft X Daughter!Reader

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: Sepsis, mention of amputation and sickness, neglect, hospitals and medical equipment (tube down throat), near death expierience

Pt1: https://lazydoodlesandfanfic.tumblr.com/post/615131490488139776/a-need-for-attention-mycroft-x

Request: Hello! I just finish to read the A need for Attention. Mycroft x daughter reader. And it deserve a part two damn you leave us a cliffhanger. I love how you portray Mycroft as him but I could see the affection of losing someone. Can you do a part two. Could be angsty but fluff same time? Please. Hope you still accept this. 

It had been 3 days since Mycroft had gotten the call, informing him that you, his daughter, was being rushed to the hospital due to a sepsis infection, and while the surgery had been successful, you had been in a coma ever since. Mycroft, for once, refused to focus on anything other than you. 

He had been mostly silent throughout these 3 days, even when Sherlock, John, and even your grandparents came to see. They’d ask how he hadn’t noticed, and he would just accept that it was because he wasn’t being a good parent. He refused to defend himself. If he had noticed something was wrong, if he had cared, you wouldn’t be here. 

They’d found the source of the infection- you’d gotten a blister from a new pair of school shoes a few weeks ago, but since you still had to wear them everyday, you continued to wear them, the blister popped, and you didn’t care since you didn’t know any better, and it got infected. You ended up having to have that let up to your knee, amputated. All because of a blister and his negligence, but mostly his negligence. 

Today had been mostly quiet. John had come in earlier to check in since he was a doctor himself, though he had to get back to work. Mycroft barely moved. The most he did was go to the bathroom, go get food, go home to sleep, then come back. He kept a hand around yours, looking at the silent television, waiting for anything to happen. For them to pull you away for a new test, for them to tell him you were braindead, for you to flatline… What he wasn’t predicting was for you to wake up. 

He was immediately aware that something was happening when he heard your breathing change, becoming more deep and faster. He turned to you, seeing your eyes open, looking around, panicking because of the tube down your throat. “Y/N- listen to me honey, it’s okay, relax.” He said, quickly grabbing the alert button and pressing it, and it didn’t take long for a nurse to rush in and see the situation, and she quickly took over in assuring you, and taking the tube out. 

“A doctor will come see you in a few minutes, just try to relax.” The nurse instructed, before leaving the room. You looked back at your father… puzzled. 

“What happened?” You asked him. 

“You got an infection… a septic infection… Y/N, you nearly died.” He informed you. You looked at him for a moment, almost like you were expecting him to tell you he was joking… but he didn’t. He was being totally serious. As the realisation hit, so did the realisation that… it took you nearly dying for your dad to finally acknowledge you. “Are you sore?” 

“No.” You answered quickly. You looked down at your body in the bed, noticing that you were missing a lump under the sheets, where one of your legs should be. Your heart stopped for a moment, just staring at the flat space on the bed. You lost your leg because you wanted your dad to notice you. Now you felt like such an idiot. You should have just said something… 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N… I should have noticed that something was wrong…” Your father apologised. You slowly turned to face him. “None of this would have happened if I’d just taken the time to.. be a father! I don’t blame you at all for not talking to me about being sick- you probably felt so isolated by yourself and felt that any attempt to talk to me would be like talking to a brick wall… I should have done better, I can’t apologise enough, and I know it’ll take a long time for you to forgive me, and honestly I don’t expect you to ever forgive me.” He rambled.

“...I stayed quiet because I wanted you to notice I wasn’t feeling well.” You admitted. Your father looked up, making eye contact. “You never really… looked at me, or even acknowledged me… I just wanted you to see me and… care.” 

“Oh darling…” he cooed, getting up, coming over and hugging you. You returned the gesture- something you hadn’t had in...years. It felt nice. Comforting. You really needed that right now. “I think when you’ve gotten better and after the doctor’s seen you, we need to sit down, and properly talk, and get on the same page and make sure nothing like this ever happens again, okay?” 

“Okay.” You agreed quietly. The doctor came back into the room, and your dad went to sit back down, though he didn't stop holding your hands. 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in! 

*Not my gif

TAGS:  @courtneychicken​  @graysonmalfoy​ @bellero​ @originalpottervengerlock​ @supernatural-pan​ @esoltis280​ @lena-stan-xavier​ @lady-of-lies​ @sebstanismylife​ @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980​ @cdwmtjb8​ @caswinchester2000​ @determinedpines​ @holy-tea-cup-blog​  @waywardemo​ @sassy-specter​ @keenmarvellover

[kim-ruzek]

Messy, chaotic perfection

Summary: Family isn't just who is blood, but who is in your corner, who makes you feel loved and cared for, who is safe and who is home.

Season 8 au, goes off if Kim never miscarried, Burzek are together, and season eight still went somewhat how it did.

Warnings: mentions of canon events (shooting, foster situations).

Word Count: 3.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: This is a Feel Better fic for the amazing, incredible and so, so strong and brave Cíara (@fighterkimburgess ). Cíara I love you, you deserve the world, and you deserve to know that I (and all of us in this fandom) have your back and wish you all the best in your life ♥️

Life can be unpredictable, events that you never expect to happen can occur and feel like that was always meant to happen all along. This is a lesson Kim has learnt over and over throughout her life, but one she’s only finally beginning to fully understand it, that it’s always going to happen in ways you don’t expect.

Like today.

Today, when she woke up, Kim thought she’d have a tiring day at work with all the racists that Kevin, and by extension them since Kevin is their family, is having to deal with but that it would be relatively drama free and she and her boyfriend—which is a word, that no matter how juvenile it sounds, makes her feel all giggly inside at—would come home and have a nice relaxing evening with their daughter.

She didn’t expect Patrol to not show up when they called and she definitely did not expect Adam to get shot. But that is life, as Kim has kept learning recently.

“Careful, let me grab the door.” Kim quickly darts in front of a very impatient and unfussed Adam, moving so she can unlock and open their front door before he can. Adam sighs.

“Kim, I’m not an invalid.” He grumbles and she flashes him a glare before she opens up the door.

“Adam, you were shot.” She holds up her hand. “And no I don’t care if it’s was in the vest. You were shot and you were lying there and I thought you were dead. And now you’ve got a bruise on your chest and Will said that you have to take it easy—it could affect your lungs if you overwork yourself.”

Kim already knows that she’s probably going to spend the next few weeks seeing Adam lying there on the grass whenever she shuts her eyes. Just like she knows that Adam gets why she’s being so fussy, even if he’s being his typical bad patient self.

“I can still open doors. You know I like opening our door for you,” At that, Kim turns away from the door, facing Adam. She closes what little distance they had between them, resting her hands gently on his chest.

“I know, but you’re injured. Let me look after you. And—we’ve only just found our way back together again, I don’t want to loose you, and I don’t want our daughter to loose you.” Adam’s eyes soften and he gently kisses her forehead.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m just stubborn.”

If this had happened years ago, this probably would’ve ended up making an even bigger dent in their relationship, and god knows if they’d be able to communicate—and truly understand each other back then. But they’re not those young people now, they’ve grown and learnt so much, and are completely dedicated to making this work.

Especially because they’re parents.

“Hey, Ally!” Adam is immediately greeting their six month old as soon as they enter the flat, Kim not far behind, the two parents cooing over her instantly.

“Can you hold her?” Trudy gives Adam a wary eye, holding the child she, without hesitation, claimed as her granddaughter. Normally they’d have their nanny here, taking care of Ally, but given that Adam was shot and had to be looked over, Trudy had relieved their nanny instead, just in case they arrived home later than usual.

“You’re as bad as Kim, of course I can,” Adam grumbles again, mostly with good humour. Still, Trudy glances at Kim just to double check, who nods and then Trudy is helping to pass the girl to her father. Usually, Adam would scoop the girl out of her arms with ease, but—showing that he is taking Will seriously, or at least their daughter’s safety seriously—he had hesitated, waited for Trudy to help.

“You should sit down, I’ll get dinner on.” Kim tells him. She then looks at Trudy. “Are you staying or going home? You’re welcome, of course.”

“I’ll leave the three of you be. Randall has his shift in the morning.” Trudy kisses her granddaughter good-bye—leaning down to do so, Ally babbling in Adam’s arms on the sofa—and then it’s just the three of them.

If you had told her a year and a half ago that this would be her life, Kim would struggle to belief you. Adam and her felt like history, something that never had the timing it deserved and that they’d only be relegated to friends with benefits.

And being a Mom? That was so far out from the cards Kim was dealt, she didn’t think it would happen for quite a few years, and even then, it felt like a impossible and distant thought.

But she has both. A relationship with Adam that is strong and decent and a proper, communicating relationship and the beautiful daughter who made it possible.

At first, Adam and her were determined to be co parents only. More her than him, if she was honest, but he understood her side.

But then Kim hit her second trimester and with it her renewed sex drive and inability to keep her hands off him and platonic co parents got more and more unbelievable—especially as they moved in together.

The reasons why they decided to just be platonic still hung over their head, however, and so they had to have a serious conversation—several, in fact—about their relationship and what it would look like and be like. They both knew that with a child in the mix, they had to be committed and determined because their baby would be impacted.

Kim did have worries about it, about if they could keep communicating and not fall back on old habits, but by the time Ally came along, their relationship had only grown stronger. The new-born stage is a tough time for parents, and they had their moments, but that only brought them even more closer and Kim now no longer has any of those worries.

Domestic bliss is something she’s always wanted to have, alongside a fulfilling job, and there’s days Kim can’t quite believe that she’s found it.

Her life isn’t perfect, no life is. And there’s tensions at work, and with their best friend going through some horrific stuff, life doesn’t feel easy. But they have each other, and they have Ally, and Kim keeps feeling like she’s reached as close to perfection as she could have.

When she was younger, Kim imagined that having perfection would be calm, would be peaceful. And maybe for others it is, but it’s not for her. There’s always some madness in her life; she’s a cop, after all. And she’s learned to appreciate the short peaceful moments that she gets. But sometimes, sometimes life is just quiet.

It had been a few weeks of quiet that Kim had realised her life hadn’t had any madness in it. Her and Adam were just going about their routine, day in, day out, watching as Ally continued to grow and marvel them and she realised that.

And then she knew instantly that the madness was coming.

It came the next day.

Adam and her had just picked up their morning coffee from a coffee shop. It had been a while since they could, usually having to make do with the district coffee—having a baby means time is precious and money is dear—but they did this morning, the two of them in a good mood and having a ridiculous conversation about boats.

And then there was a lost six year old girl walking through the road.

Everything got a lot more busy after that, as they tracked down her family and worked out what had happened.

Being a Mom has definitely changed Kim, and she had to go into a corner—Adam joining her, wrapping his arms around her—and have a little cry in the locker room. All she could think about her daughter, her Ally, loosing her family like that and it activated the still distantly present hormones leftover from her pregnancy.

And it made her more determined to help the little girl, Makayla, especially when the girl had apparently bonded to her. Kim was told that she was the best person to talk to her, and even though she’s a mother, she had doubted her abilities. There’s a difference between her baby who’s just learning to talk and move about to a traumatized six year old but the doubts were misplaced, Kim managing to get that connection.

Makayla had wanted her to come to the safe house with her, which Kim did. Luckily Adam was by Trudy’s desk and he gave her nod, telling her that Ally and him will be okay. Still, Kim was glad that she’s already had a night away from her daughter so that she could go with Makayla, so that she didn’t have to let down this vulnerable girl who needed her just as much.

The safe house had turned out to not be so safe, and Kim’s mama bear instincts—as Adam has affectionately coined—kicked in and she instantly said she’ll be taking Makayla home, no questions.

Of course, she had glanced at Adam, silently checking with him. Adam had nodded again.

“Ally’s already with her grandparents so yes, Makayla will be staying with us.” Adam had immediately supported her, his voice just as firm and decided. Kim had already worked out Ally was with Trudy and Mouch, as he was there and they are their emergency babysitters but she felt so lucky to have a partner who was willing to not have the night with his daughter for what she wants.

Seeing Adam interact with Makayla that night had made Kim’s insides twist, and she wonders if they might end up accidentally conceiving a second baby soon with how his paternalism stirred feelings inside her.

It left her feeling sadder than Kim would’ve thought to say goodbye to Makayla after everything was sorted, an emptiness in her heart. The girl had made an impact on her and it felt wrong to end the story there.

That night, Kim had hugged Ally close to her, Adam arm wrapped around her as he cuddled up to them.

“I think I want another,” Kim had said, and Adam choked. She had laughed, then, careful not to wake the sleeping baby on her chest.

“Not now or anytime soon. One baby is enough at one time. But in the future. This—us—being a family, it feels right and as perfect as our family is, I want it to be bigger.” She had explained. She’d have been nervous, but this is Adam, possibly the only person she knows whole heartedly that she can be herself, no judgement.

“Darlin’, nothing would make me happier.” He had kissed her temple firmly then, lacing their hands together and Kim got that feeling of perfect domestic bliss again.

“I’d say let’s have another right now but, yeah, one baby is enough. Although we could practice?” He then joked and Kim rolled her eyes at him.

It isn’t that long after that they’re at social services and Kim spots that precious six year old who, if Kim is honest with herself, hadn’t left her thoughts since, every few days Kim wondering if she’s okay, if she’s settling and adjusting and if the cousin Cathy would need to call her.

“Kim!” Makayla immediately runs to her, hugging her and Kim’s heart twists and constricts, warming at the gesture but breaking that she’s here.

They’re in the middle of a turbulent case, a case that plagues Kim, but her mind is still spilt, focused on worrying about Makayla.

“Where were you?” Adam asks her when she gets back from Cathy’s. Kim knows that she should’ve told him before, that going off alone like this when in a relationship and a parent isn’t how she should be behaving but as the couple’s therapist they went to say said, sometimes Kim can have tunnel vision. It’s something she’s working on, but sometimes she reverts back, like when a six year old needs her.

“I went to see Makayla’s Cathy.” Kim then tells him, and she tells him all about it.

“What if I take her in?” The words fall out Kim’s mouth before she can really process them. It’s nothing she should say, not just for the reasons Makayla’s social worker lists. But because Kim isn’t an I anymore. She’s in a relationship and she’s a mother. This isn’t just her life, but she can’t get Makayla—or the bond they have—out of her head.

After the conversation with her social worker, Kim sees Kevin. She wonders if she should ask him about this, about his siblings and that decision, knowing that he’ll have value to add to the conversation, especially as a black man. But she stops herself, knowing that she’s getting that tunnel vision again, that she needs to discuss this with Adam before she spirals too fast.

“I want to foster Makayla.” It isn’t the most tactful conversation, or the best place for it. But Kim’s mind is in overdrive and all she can think about is how she could feel at six, feeling like only Nicole loved her, and about that precious girl, and her own daughter.

“Us. I want us to foster Makayla.” Kim quickly amends, because they’re a team. Everything they do, they do together. They’re entwined and interlinked and the only way to make the relationship successful is by accepting and respecting that.

It’s a long conversation. It’s really not the time or place but that’s something that just doesn’t matter as much as talking. Kim tells Adam all about why she does, and he talks about how he feels. That he gets it, that he would want to give her a home just as much but has she thought this through.

They work out if they want it to only be temporary, how they’ll do it with Ally, if they’re ready and if they’re only doing this because they’re adapting to being parents, parents who often felt unloved as a child.

And they grab Kevin, adding him to the discussion, getting his two cents.

And then they come to a decision—that they should take Makayla home and they’re jumping into action. Kim calling the social worker, Adam arranging for Ally to be at her grandparents for the night as they get Makayla settled.

Everything picks up after that, quiet days rarely a thing even more than before.

They get Makayla into school, sets up their home so it feels more like hers, they get her into therapy and family therapy. They introduce her to Kevin, knowing he will have to play an important role in their foster daughter’s life.

Makayla adores Ally from the first time they meet, treating her with such care and love and Ally immediately bonds to her. It fills Kim with such joy and affection, and makes her heart feel so, so soft.

Kim was worried that them having Ally already would make Makayla feel like an add on, but it has the opposite affect, making her feel more like part of the family—two weeks in, Makayla tells Kim that she always wanted a little sister, and Kim’s happy that she may not have been able to save Makayla’s family, but at least she could do something.

It’s not smooth sailing. It’s tough and it’s work. Nights were hell, Makayla waking up screaming and rousing Ally, but it gets better, especially after they get Makayla trouble dolls. It’s an adjustment, for sure, but it’s fulfilling.

For Adam too, who’s taken to calling Makayla his lil darlin’ and all three of them his girls. Kim already knew he is a great dad, but seeing him dress up and play with Makayla, and being so calm and loving through her trauma just reaffirms that over and over, making Kim feel so happy that she gave them another chance.

Makayla is family long before the adoption going through.

Mack is one of the first words Ally says, reaching for her sister as she did so. Kim—and Adam, as they discussed it later—will never forget the utterly joyful grin that had spread across Makayla’s face at that.

“Ally said my name!” Makayla had exclaimed to them happily, and proceeded to tell everyone she saw over the next week, her excitement and joy never waning.

Trudy and Mouch immediately accept Makayla as another grandchild and the rest of the family treats Makayla like she belongs. Kim never had any doubts, but it warmed her heart to see how much Makayla clearly loved and was taken by it—and how it made her feel so much more settled, knowing she’s gained so much family even after loosing so much.

Sylvie takes it upon herself to be her honorary godmother and Makayla quickly learns that Sylvie is one of the best to play princesses with. Stella comes with Sylvie one day and Makayla is immediately enamoured by her, and soon Stella decides Makayla needs two godmothers.

The Atwaters are an essential part of their family, as they help Makayla keep that connection to her black culture, helping to make sure her identity doesn’t get lost and that she doesn’t feel like she has to pick sides between her old and new life.

Makayla and Uncle Kev have a day every month, just them, doing whatever they want. It’s not even about doing anything relating to their shared skin tone, but just a routine to establish that Kevin is there for her.

Jordan takes to Makayla quickly, as well, finding her cute and endearing. He tells them that she reminds him of Vinessa at that age, and quickly starts calling her his little cousin—another thing that Kim knows helps makes her feel like part of the family.

Makayla loves her ‘big cousin', Jordan often teaching her age appropriate jokes and helping her play harmless pranks. He also teaches her some dance moves, and laughs with her when she tries to teach Adam them, who fails spectacularly.

Jordan loves Ally as well, having seen Kim as part of his family for years but Kim knows that they’ll never have the bond that Jordan and Makayla have, and it’s something that makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside—that Makayla with have things that’s just hers, that she won’t ever feel like she’s in her little sister’s shadow. It’s important, Kim thinks, and she’s glad of it. Makayla is no less her daughter than Ally and deserves to never feel like she is.

Makayla is family before she is legally, before she’s adopted into a family who barely has any blood in common anyway. But the day the adoption goes through is a joyous day for all of them.

“I love you.” Makayla has said it to them before, and more to Ally. But that day she says it and it’s louder than a shy whisper but firm and sure and Kim can’t help getting teary eyed as they hug her, assuring their daughter that they love her too, so much.

“Thank you for wanting to be my mom and dad.” Makayla says that night, so earnestly and Kim tears up again, Adam too. And nothing has ever felt so right. Kim knows she’ll never replace her mom, and she doesn’t want to, and she knows that Makayla might not ever call them mom and dad but they are and Makayla sees them as that and it feels so right.

“We’ve got two daughters.” Kim giggles against Adam’s chest that night, when everyone is asleep.

“That we do. And we got to skip the baby stage so we could get our two daughters straight away,” Adam replies, referencing their conversation from the night Makayla went home with Cathy. Kim laughs again, cuddling against her fiancé—as of a week ago.

Life is unpredictable. It’s messy and chaotic and full of madness, and Kim’s learnt and accepted that. And life is wonderful and amazing, and not despite of that, but because of that.

Two years ago, Kim would not see herself like this. In bed with Adam, her fiancé, their two daughters sleeping and feeling like she’s got the most perfect life. And it’s all because life is unpredictable.

Kim used to think that perfect meant calmness. And then she thought that can’t be her life, because she’s choose a mad and crazy life, a life not designed to be calm. But as she lies in bed that night, Adam cuddling her, Kim knows that’s wrong.

Life does mean calmness, but not because her life is quiet and calm, but because it’s messy and chaotic. It’s messy and chaotic and it’s hers. She has all what she ever wanted, fulfilled in all areas, and it doesn’t matter if it’s unpredictable because that’s the beauty of it.

There’s such a peace and calmness inside of her, an ease that has been brought on only by the messy, imperfection and unplanned events of her life—and that’s what makes everything feel perfect; perfect within the chaos.

[rinharu-purple]

Emmm 👉👈 can i request Gavin's spring festival date analysis?! Ehem especially when Gavin said "I've waited a long time for today.." 💙

But Of course if you're not busy.. I'll wait patiently.. I just.. love read your analysis 💙 like i can feel your love and dedication for Gavin.. a lot of Gavin stan is very smart and loyal.. just like Gavin itself

Hello nonny and of course you can! Thank you for your lovely ask and reading my posts. It makes me really happy to hear this 💞 I can also double up what you've said, Our birdcop is smart and loyal and I really love being a part of Gavin-standom which includes so many talented writers, artists, analysts and it has @cheri-translates! There are so many great posts from various accounts and one can feel the love, passion and loyalty towards Gavin in all of them! 💫

An analysis on Spring Festival date is so overdue, so it is me who should apologize for not having written this before. I will more than gladly include your request scene, I hope you enjoy it ^_^

MC Testing Waters: Spring Festival Date

At the beginning of the game, MC is a young woman with lots of love in her heart, however without much experience in love. Fortunately this starts to change when she meets LIs as adults.

Spring Festival Date takes place after Firework Date and before the Romantic Date, although the timeline is quite messy, which I will come to by the end of this analysis.

If you look closely, you can see MC checking Gavin's romantic feelings towards her by using this "boyfriend game" and also uses the opportunity to get beyond his hardened exterior and touch his vulnerable side 💗

Spoilers start below this line

This date comes to, because MC lies to her aunt about having a boyfriend to avoid arranged blind dates and even promises to visit her on New Years with her boyfriend. Speculatively it seemed like a solid play, until...the time literally came.

Thinktanking about a way out of this with Kiki and Willow, they weight different options as to tell them she broke up with him, leave the city or call in sick but then the best wingman on earth Minor saves the way and suggests that she just takes a "fake boyfriend" with her, surely enough with Gavin in his mind.

MC goes through her contacts list to search for a suitable candidate, but her heart Whispers her the answer by skipping a beat as her fingertips scroll down to one name.

... Gavin

As such... MC has chosen her player for the game and Gavin's Heart Trial with MC's family commences...

---Press Start---

Creativity Test

Unluckily Gavin actually shows up for this highly important date late, with his phone off! From the storyline he arrives a couple of minutes late to MC’s aunt's place, thus starting the game one point behind. He was late because he was buying presents for the whole family! With the spot on gifts which are well received by the family because they're expensive, imported goods, limited products, cute and thoughtful he makes up for the lost points.

But it's just the first stage and he has 3 more stages to clear, the pressure is slowly rising.

This gray suit has a lovely story behind it, which you can find by the end of the story.

Decision Test

Gavin has passed the creativity test with flying colors, but in the second stage more challenging questions are on the menu. The eldest aunt wants to know Gavin's age, occupation, salary(?!) and possessions(?!). The last two questions are fairly over the line and is a no-no in my country. Asking people about their financial status as well as bragging about it is perceived as rude and insolent, that's why the way Gavin answers these questions skillfully without bragging about his wealth adds just another brick on my Gavin-temple.

Age: 24

Occupation: Police Officer

Salary: Covers the bills

Possessions: A flat in the city and a motorcycle.

In my Prank date analysis, I've mentioned about Gavin's ability to deal with impertinence and also here, he stays friendly, but only answers the questions necessary to get through with the situation. MCs family is checking whether he's wealthy enough to take care of MC (which is sad that in the 21st century that in some countries women need to be financially secured by men). So Gavin just gives them just the right enough of information to pass the test and pass he does.

There is another aspect to his way of answering though. You see, Gavin is an unmaterialistic man. He doesn't care about money or any other meta. He doesn't touch upon the fact that he's coming from a wealthy family, or that he inherits his grandparents house or that he can afford designer dresses, overseas travels or gems without giving a second thought. That shows just how humble Gavin is and I love him for it. What defines him is not his wealth, nor does he allow anyone define him on his financial status. It's his character, the values he stand for, the vision he embodies, the way he treats MC.. Ehm.. And.. His champion body and drop dead gorgeous looks (comes as an extra;))

But the game is far from over, because the family council is now going to challenge him on...

Affinity Test

This is where things get rosy as the family would like to know how they've met and whether they've been together since high school.

Look, Gavin is actually not playing a game, but living the moment. He is well aware of the fact that once he and MC become an official pair, he will be standing on the same spot a year later. He is serious...

So when they ask about their affection, he gives them his genuine answer and confesses his crush on her during high school and says that they've been going out since fall. This dazzles MC, as if she hasn't been dazzled enough lol.

The three glasses of drink he gulps surely has a role in this sincerity and taking three glasses of a drink as a punishment also becomes a tradition for MC and Gavin in the future.

And so, he proudly passes the Affinity Test with flying colors, effortlessly. Only one more stage and he's done it!

Execution Test

Every hero has his moment, when the fight takes a gloomier turn against his favor and the odds don't look good as before when he gets a strong blow, that is when the family hits him with the question "Don't you get alone well with your family?".

This is Gavin's weak spot, his cryptonite, his bleeding wound and MC's family just pressed on it. What makes this scene so heartbreaking is not just the topic itself and we know why it is a sensitive topic for Gavin but also that Gavin actually tries to signal them that this is not his favorite topic. He tells them he doesn't go home for holidays (friendly warning number 1), the aunties pushes by telling him to take some meal with him to which he replies "Thanks, but that's okay. I've been away for a long time" (friendly warning number 2) the family pushes further and as a one last resort he tells them that during college he rarely went there and spent holidays working afterwards (friendly warning number 3). Sadly the auntie than ignorantly ask whether his family doesn't worry about him and now because he's given three fair warning shots which, he downright gives them a brief and resolute answer:

- No.

That's usually the latest where people with common sense stop digging in further. Unfortunately then the auntie asks whether he doesn't get along well with his family to which Gavin no longer responds. This is the perfect way of dealing with such people and Gavin has a very intuitive talent for dealing different people from different mindsets. Give them three friendly and fair warnings, still pushing? Then give them a last chance by one final brief and to the point answer, they choose to ignore the signal? Stop interacting, you can only waste time beyond this point.

The only problem with this situation here, is that these people are not just somebody, Gavin wants to win these people over, so he cannot just ignore them. But also he cannot do it without a timeout, so he goes to grab some wine. (God it makes me so sorry everytime he has to face his family drama or is misjudged. I just wanna hug him bring him hot cocoa, give him a backrub and bring spicy food for him. Luckily he has MC ^_^)

But let's not talk only about about Gavin, because MC is struggling too. And we should recognize her stick up for him with the most cherishing words:

-Auntie, you got it wrong. He is a decent and pure man and has come to my aid many time and in quite dangerous circumstances.

When she comes back however cannot find Gavin, once she does, a heartwarming moment blooms between them.

This scene is very crucial in Gavin and MC's relationship because this is the first time MC sees Gavin tired and flustered. She feels sad for him but also happy for herself, for she feels as though she gets closer to him, thus seeing the real Gavin. By the way she show him her genuine care, Gavins heart melts and kisses the back of her hand as a gesture and so the first intimate moment involving them having a kiss ensues. Furthermore, they show each other their mutual care, which brings them one step closer and this gives Gavin the only courage he needs to tackle the situation.

When our hero gets the courage and the stamina he need from his girl, nothing can stop him now. Having gatherer his strength, Gavin returns to the dinner table:

“I am so happy to be here with you all today. In fact, I haven't felt this atmosphere of family in a long time. I have a very strict father and a brother I seldom see...I don’t even know when I turned into such a loner. Eating alone, sleeping alone, doing everything alone...until I met her. It was a beautiful autumn day. The gingko leaves were floating in the wind. I was also going through a pretty dark time. But she saved me before I hit bottom...It’s she who told me I could live a stronger life. And it’s also she who told me I could live a more tender life. I never felt lonely before, until I met her. I started to get used to star-gazing with her, having dinner with her, spending the New Year’s with her. In the future, I'll give it my all to stay with her, to take good care of her and love her. I wanna make up many times over for all the times I wasn't there”

MC’s heart stopped, aunties eyes teary, the elder Aunt want his actions to back up these words and thus Gavin has a pass from MC's family. Now that he's won the game, it's time to collect his prize.

After they leave MC's aunt's house, our lovebirds walk together in the night full of fireworks and Gavin tells Mc that Minor has mentored him on being the perfect son-in-law, hence he was late. He also asks her what she would do if he didn't show up, to which she says that her intuition says that he won't fail her and he murmurs quietly:

- I've waited a long time for today.

Of course he doesn't repeats himself when MC asks him about what he just said. But that's what kept him going all night long.

He has waited for six whole years to meet her again, to stand by here, take good care of her and love her. Tonight, he could do them all by being her "boyfriend", giving his word to her family and having their blessings. He could see that she also cares a lot for him, worries about him and wants to be there for him. He landed his lips for the first time on her delicate skin and could give her warmth.

He could finally confess his feelings for her and say the genuine things he will only say to her.

So yes, he has waited for a long time for this moment to come and when it came, he made sure to grab it tightly.

----—----—---

Timeline issues:

- The order of the dates in the game doesn't always reflect the real course of events. The grey suit that Gavin wears is actually bought after Romantic Date, which takes place after this date.

-Even though MC plans this whole game to avert blind dates, but she still gets set up later on a blind date by another aunt lol.

Thank you once again for your patience nonny and I hope that the analysis proves to be worthy of your wait 💗

Masterlist

For MC's confession let me take you here

For Gavin and MCs relationship milestones here

For a fun trivia about this date you can click here

[acreativeme]

Generational Trauma

Generational Trauma 

Clinton Skye x Reader 

Y/N snuck down onto the floor of her bathroom, positive pregnancy test sitting on the sink. They couldn’t be pregnant, she thought. They weren’t even supposed to be together. Y/N and her partner, Clinton Skye, grew up thinking that the other was an undomesticated beast or at least that is what their parents taught them. 

“Baby? Everything alright?” Clinton asked, sensing something was up with her.

Y/N coughed, quickly brushing the tears away. “Yeah, everything is fine.” She got up and opened the door. “I’m pregnant.” She blurted. 

Clinton’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

She nodded her head. “The test came back positive.” She held it up to him. “I need to meet with my doctor to confirm.”

He tossed the test onto the counter behind her as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Yeah!” He picked her up, which made her laugh. “We are going to be parents!” 

Once she was back on the ground, Y/N sighed. “Speaking of parents, when are we going to tell ours about us? I mean we’ve been together for years and we are going to be parents ourselves.”

He caressed her cheek, trying to distract her. “I don’t think now is the best time to tell them, my folks are still mourning Angelyne’s death.”

Y/N froze, knowing that was not the complete truth. “Clinton, she’s been dead for over a year now. Don’t you think that learning they are going to be grandparents again will make them happy?” 

He gave her a skeptical look. “I don’t think so..” 

She nodded in understanding. “You don’t think them finding out who the mother is, is going to help.” She stepped around him, moving towards the closet. “I get it.” She threw some clothes into a suitcase. 

“That’s not what I meant…” He tried to back track.

She held up a hand to silence him. “That is exactly what you meant.” She moved around him to get some things out of their shared bathroom. “I think that I am going to visit my parents.” 

He grabbed her wrist. “That’s not necessary, baby.” he was practically begging her not to go.

She looked down at his hand, not having the mental strength to deal with this anymore. “Let go, Clinton.” She muttered, not looking up to meet his eyes.

He let her go, not saying anything as she walked away from him. His own tears began to fall as he heard the front door shut.

Y/N’S POV

Y/N sat in the driveway for a few moments, hoping that Clinton would come after her. But he didn’t. There was no movement at the windows from the living room or their bedroom, so she took that as a sign to leave. She brushed away the tears as she put her car in drive, not wanting to break down.

She wanted to get to her parents before day break, but had to stop after only three hours.  She pulled into a gas station, needing gas and a bathroom break. There was no one else at the station other than the clerk, a young edgy looking woman with headphones in. Y/N sat in the bathroom, crying into her hands. She briefly glanced at her phone, not seeing anything from Clinton. A part of her had hoped that he would come to his senses and reach out to her, but he didn’t. I guess he doesn’t care as much as I thought he did. She thought, wiping her tears away. She finished up quickly, wanting to get some snacks and go. 

She grabbed a couple bottles of water, two bags of BBQ chips, and a king size pack of Reese. The clerk didn’t say anything to her other than the price of her snacks-- didn’t even offer her a bag or anything. Y/N gave her a small smile, not wanting to come off as rude, and wished her a goodnight. Y/N tossed her items into the passenger seat, so that she could get gas. She got back on the road quickly, putting on music to distract her from the fact that the person that she loves has not attempted to make contact with her. 

She made it to her parents home by 6 am, having only stopped to reach out to her employees about opening the shop without her for a few days. 

Her father was standing on the front porch as she got out of her car. “Alskling, what are you doing here?” His baritone voice was laced with sleep. 

Y/N choked back a sob. “Pappa, I made a mistake.” She walked closer to him.

He stepped down off the porch to wrap her in his arms. “It is okay, pappa is here for you.” He slowly began ushering her into the house. “Tell pappa what has happened.” 

She stepped away from him. “I am pregnant, pappa, with Clinton Skye’s baby.” 

Clinton’s POV…

He snuck to his knees as Y/N walked out of their shared room. He didn’t know why he let her walk away from him, but he couldn’t make himself go after her. 

Or even get up from the floor. He sat there all night, just staring into space. He was startled awake from his daydream by his phone buzzing in his pocket. 

In a panic, Clinton fumbled with his phone. “Y/N?”

Jess frowned on his side of the phone. “No? It’s Jess. Is everything okay?”

Clinton sighs upset that it wasn’t Y/N. “Yeah, everything is fine. What can I do for you?”

“We’ve got a case, how quickly can you get here?” Jess asks worry, burying itself in his chest. 

“I can be there in 30 minutes.” He hung up without furthering the conversation that he knew Jess wanted to have. 

He changed out of yesterday’s clothes, not bothering to fix his hair or put on deodorant. His heart ached as he moved through the house in silence. He was so used to hearing Y/N humming in the kitchen, cooking breakfast for them. She would dance along to whatever was playing in her head, without fear of judgement.  

He didn’t linger too long in the house, knowing that he would lose all composure. He was quick about getting in his car and going, not wanting to think about their driveway without her car.

Y/N’s POV…

Y/N sat against the headboard of her childhood bed, knees pressed to her chest. Her father had spent the first two hours of her visit yelling at her about the bad choices that she was making. And how he couldn’t believe she would sleep with the enemy. Her mother had come down, still in her night clothes and rob, as he was forcing Y/N to sit on the couch. Her mother had started to chastise him, but was stopped by his raised hand. 

“What is going on, Hugo?” Astrid asked, coming to stand behind her daughter.

“Our daughter has been keeping a secret from us.” He crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed. 

Y/N sighed. “Mamma, I’ve been dating Clinton Skye for nearly ten years. We moved in together last year, that is why I haven’t invited you all to my new place.” Y/N turned around to make eye contact with her mother. “And I am pregnant with his child.”

Astrid gasped, clutching her heart and covering her mouth. “Oh, Alskling. Why did you do this to us?” She turned to her upset husband, “where did we go wrong?!” 

This continued for another hour and forty-five minutes, before her mother sent her upstairs to get some rest. They wanted to talk about everything that she shared with them, disappointment displayed clearly on their faces. Even though Y/N is in her early thirties, her parents still have a lot of control with her life. They had immigrated from Sweden right after they got married, barely 20 years old, to escape a family feud of their own-- which makes what they are doing hypocritical. Y/N never questioned her parents disdain for the Skye family, until she met Clinton Skye and he turned out to be nothing like what her parents told her.

Y/N was subconsciously rubbing her stomach when her parents walked in, both looking stern and upset. “Alskling, we’ve decided to send you to Sweden for a few months to stay with family.” Her father stated, not leaving room for discussion. 

Y/N gasped, standing up from the bed, “you can’t do that, pappa. I am an adult. And I’ve got a business to run, I can’t just leave for a few months!”

Her father puffed up his chest, “Either you go to Sweden like we have said, or you will be disowned and will never be allowed to talk to us or your siblings again.” His tone was serious and hard, which threw her off as she had never heard him talk like that.

Her mother, who had been silently standing by the door, spoke up. “You will have no help with the baby and no inheritance to be able to support you and the baby.”

Y/N laughed, brushing her tears away, “you think I care about money? I make good money on my own, if you hadn’t noticed.” She looked down, knowing her choice. “I will go to Sweden, but I need to make arrangements for my business.” She wasn’t going to be able to raise this baby without help and without Clinton, her family was all she had left. 

Clinton’s POV…

He couldn’t focus. His heart ached as the hours passed without word from Y/N. Even though they were fighting, he still hoped that she would reach out to him and let him know that she was okay. His withdrawn behavior was worrying the team. 

“Clinton, can we talk for a moment?” Jess asked, pointing to a door that led outside.  

He looked up, nodding, “yes.” 

Jess led him off to the side, trying to make sure no one else would overhear them. “I am concerned for you, Clint. It is not like you to be so unfocused, especially on a case.” 

“Nothing is wrong, Jess.” He tried to deny it, but neither believed him. 

Jess reached out and patted his shoulder. “You should call her.” 

Clinton looked up at him. “What?”

Jess sighed, “you should give Y/N a call. You haven’t been yourself for the last couple of days and it is starting to affect your work. And we can’t have that, especially not with this case.” 

After taking in what Jess was saying, Clinton nodded and went off to call her. He had tried her phone twice, but was sent straight to voicemail--which he found odd. He dialed the number for her shop, silently hoping that she was busy there and wasn’t ignoring his calls.

After three rings, a female voice answered. “Stargazing Sweets, this is Melinda. How can I help you?” The voice was cheerful and sweet.

His heart sank. “Melinda, it is Clinton. I am trying to get a hold of Y/N. Is she there?”

“Oh hello, Clinton! She didn’t tell you, weird? She is going off to Sweden for a little bit to visit a sick relative!” There was a pause and a rustling noise, “from the email that she sent me, I think that her flight should be leaving in the next couple of hours.”

His breath caught in his throat. How could she not have told him that she was leaving? “Thank you, Melinda. I am going to try and give another call.” 

“No problemo! Have a good one, Clinton!” Click. She hung up on him.

Clinton sighed, anger burning in his chest. How did their relationship go from laughter and bubble baths to her leaving the country and not telling him? In frustration, Clinton punched a tree. In hindsight, it was not a very bright move because now his hand hurt. He stalked back into the building, needing to find information on her flight.

Both Kenny and Hana were sitting at a computer, so he decided to ask them for help. “Hana, Kenny. I need your help getting information about a flight.” 

The pair shared a look, before nodding. “Sure, if it means you’ll be returning to normal.” Kenny jokes.

Uncharacteristically, Clinton glared at him. “This is not a time for your jokes, Crosby. Her name is Y/N Y/L/N and her flight is heading to Sweden.” 

The pair nodded in sync, not wanting to piss Clinton off further. Hana was the first to find anything, so without hesitation she sent it to his phone. “I found the information and have sent it to your phone. If you hurry, you might be able to catch her.” 

He smiled briefly, “Thank you.” Without any further words, Clinton walked out of the office. 

As he was opening the door to his car, he dialed his mother’s number. She picked up right away, “Hello, Mom? Is dad around, there is something I have to tell you both?” He was finally ready to share his truth.

Y/N POV…

Her parents left her at the airport, not wanting to see her off-- hell, they didn’t even say goodbye. Though she had made the decision to go to Sweden, they were still giving her the silent treatment. Clinton had called her twice as they were driving to the airport and she had to decline both of them right away, so that her parents didn’t turn around and see. As she was walking away from the luggage drop off, she received a text from Melinda that said Clinton was looking for her. She sent a thumbs up as a reply, signaling that she is aware. 

As she walked through security, she made the decision not to call him back. She knew that if she did, she’d allow herself to be talked out of leaving. And she couldn’t allow that to happen. She needs her family… but she needs him too.  She found her gate fairly easily, only stopping to buy a drink and a sandwich. Her father wouldn’t allow her to have breakfast before they left, so her and the baby were starving. 

She took a seat by a window, wanting to watch the employees work. She slipped her headphones in, wanting to keep strangers from interacting with her. She wasn’t feeling music, so she turned on the latest episode of her favorite podcast, Ladies & Tangents (which is an actual podcast that I love!). Y/N picked at her sandwich, zoning out as Jeri and Ciara joked about shitting in a closet. She was so focused on the podcast that she didn’t notice someone walk up to her, which is something that Clinton had taught her not to do. She nearly jumped out of her skin as the person bent down in front of her.

Pulling off her headphones, Y/N shook her head. “What are you doing here, Clinton?” She asked, both equally shocked and happy about him being there.

He reached forward to hold her hands. “I heard you were going to Sweden and I wanted to see if I could get you to stay.” He squeezed her hands, voice cracking. “I am so sorry. I messed up. I was so worried that my parents would hold you in the same regards as your family. I was scared and I let that fear affect our relationship, which is something I should’ve talked to you about and not kept to myself.”

A tear ran down her cheek. “Oh, Clinton. I have to go…” She trailed off, not really wanting to admit why.

He tried to brush the tears away, heart aching at how broken she looked. “Why do you have to go?” She looked away from him, which caused him to try and turn her face to look at him. “Y/N, what aren’t you telling me?” She took a deep breath, trying to build up the courage to tell him the truth. “My parents threatened to disown me and keep me away from my siblings. I told them about us and they threatened to disown me.” She blurted, not being able to hold back.

Clinton froze, feeling every ounce of pain pouring out of her. “Oh, baby.” He pulled her to his chest, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I told my parents about us. I told them that you were nothing like your parents, that you made it your mission to learn about our heritage.” He whispered.

She pulled back, shock evident in her eyes. “You did?” 

He nodded, “and they would like to meet you, but only if you want.” 

She looked over his shoulder at her gate, trying to decide what she wanted to do. “I think..” flashes of her parents judging her and not listening to anything she tried to tell them popped up, making it an easy decision. “I think I would love to meet them.”

Clinton grinned, happy tears falling down his cheeks. “Good,” he stood up, “because I’ve already had the airport pull your luggage from baggage claim…” He stated bashfully.

She smacked his chest as he helped her up. “How could you be so confident that I would say yes to coming back with you?” 

He shrugged, throwing his arm over her shoulder, “Baby, I just know you so well.” He pecked to the side of her head.

They both laughed at that, happy to be together again.

[shinobicyrus]

Meeting for the First Time Again

A short little DS9 fic inspired by @c-rowlesdraws more alien redesign of Dax. Here’s a re-imagining Sisko’s reunion with his old friend.

Besides bearing DS9’s new Science and Medical officers, the USS Bhaskara was offloading much-needed support personnel and medical supplies for both the station and Bajor. With the Enterprise being called away earlier than anticipated, the Bhaskara would likely be the last Federation ship any of them would see for weeks.

Major Kira had accompanied Sisko aboard, and had stood straight-backed and on edge during the formalities between him and the Bhaskara’s captain. Charitably, Sisko figured it might not have been comfortable for her to be stuck in the unfamiliar close quarters of a Federation starship, or it maybe being surrounding by over a hundred sapients of a dozen different species all in their matching, pristine uniforms.

He still hadn’t come to a final verdict with her, yet. Certainly she had no love for the Federation. Hadn’t been at all shy to disclose that fact either, which he couldn’t help but privately admire. It was the kind of refreshingly straightforward attitude that Sisko didn’t encounter as often as he liked, anymore.

At least he knew where they stood. There may never be any friendliness there, but there could at least be a mutual respect, if they didn’t give each other brain damage butting heads all day.

Well. That was what their new doctor was for.

He was human and very young. His blue uniform was freshly replicated, and a medical bag hung off of his shoulder as if he expected to start performing first aid the moment he stepped off the ship. Sisko had read his file. Doctor Julian Subatoi Bashir had the highest qualifications of any medical practitioner he’d ever seen, and the academic accolades to have his pick of duty assignments.

Instead of research or a ship’s physician, he chooses a barely-functional Cardassian monstrosity on the furthest fringes of Federation space.

No one makes that choice unless they have something to prove. That never boded well. Sisko could only hope the few weeks tending to a people trying to recover from decades of slavery and genocide will give the good doctor a good dose of sobering reality.

Thankfully, Captain T’Shel was vulcan and took zero offense when Sisko politely declined their offer of a light tea in their stateroom. With the amount of work still needed to get DS9 up and running, it was only Logical he take his officers and return to work as soon as possible.

Their disembarkation went without incident, though Sisko half-expected the airlock to jam again. Next to him, Doctor Bashir took in the grim Cardassian architecture of the promenade with that eagerness unique to academy graduates on their first assignment; his eyes sparkled with adventure and Sisko marveled that he himself had ever been that young. 

DS9’s Science officer was more sedate, flowing over the tall rim of the airlock on many legs with a smooth, liquid grace. Two pairs of stubby but strong limbs pushed her long body upright and brought her flat, vaguely amphibian head at about his chest-level, passably mimicking a biped.

“Commander.” Major Kira looked uncertainly at her charges. “If you’d like me to give these two a tour of the station – ”

“You and Doctor Bashir go ahead, Major.” He turned to the trill and saw her already looking at him. The face of a stranger. Still, he smiled at her. “I’m afraid I have to put Lieutenant Dax to work right away.”

Dax nodded, unperturbed at being put to work so soon after a long starship journey. Not even time to throw her pack into her new quarters.

Major Kira for one just seemed relieved. The sidelong glance she gave Dax made it clear how unused she was to dealing with non-humanoids. Sisko couldn’t bring himself to judge – all of her interactions with off-worlders before now had involved Cardassians.

Before she could herd him away, Doctor Bashir half-ran past Kira to Dax’s side, stopping them from leaving. Sisko was too surprised – and too curious of Dax’s reaction – to chide him.

This time.

“Jadzia!” He adjusted the strap of his bag, completely heedless of the disgruntled glare Major Kira had leveled at him like a charging phaser. “I was thinking. Maybe we could…” He cocked his head, boyish smile shy but still precocious. “Get together later. For dinner?”

Dax did not answer immediately, as if he...she were weighing the question. As one second, then another ticked by without a response, Sisko watched the fear creep into Bashir’s eyes as it slowly dawned on him that he was holding up his commanding officer. Sisko said nothing to add or alleviate his anxiety, and Bashir stammered, looking to him and then back to Dax. “O-o-or a drink?”

Dax blinked slowly. Her mouth curled into a shape a human would find friendly. Her voice was thick, melodious and warm like rain on a muggy day. “I’d be delighted.”

Three words was evidently all it took to leave Doctor Bashir a dumb, grinning blob of hormones stuck in place in front of the airlock. Dax and Sisko left him to be pried off the deck by the Major.

They walked side-by-side down through the promenade. Sisko kept his strides small so the four shorter limbs on Dax’s lower body could keep up without much difficulty.

While trills could stand upright just fine, walking without all eight limbs was another matter; like expecting a human to hop around on one foot all day. Any Federation-raised citizen wouldn’t think twice about trill walking past low to the ground, but Curzon had stubbornly mastered the art.  

‘Gotta look them in the eye, Benjamin. Think I could have gotten anything done at Khitomer crawling around the Klingons’ pointy boots?’

Watching her walk was what did it. The dignified posture, head bobbing and both pairs of upper-arms clasped behind her back. It was all Curzon, but eerily incongruous. Like looking into the mirror and seeing the wrong color uniform.

Sisko leaned down to ask, “He’s a little young for you, isn’t he?”

“Trills mature a little faster than humans, but we’re close in Standard,” Dax said. “He’s twenty-seven and I’m –”

“Three-hundred twenty-seven?”

“You know I stopped counting, Benjamin.”

“How convenient for you.”

Dax chortled a bubbly trill laugh. “What was that human expression you told me once? About youth and old age?”

“Youth is wasted on the young.”

“A pitfall I’m glad to have avoided,” Dax grinned.

“You’re dodging the question.”

She stroked her whiskers like Curzon used to do when he was pretending to be a forgetful old man. When...she was pretending. “And what question would that be?”

“Whether the man knows he’s chasing after someone who’s technically older than his great-grandparents.

“Of course he knows,” Dax’s upper body stood a tad straighter. “He finds it fascinating. He’s never met a joined species before.”

“‘Fascinated’ isn’t the word I’d have chosen to describe it.”

“It’s the spots. And the arms,” She raised two of them to fend off his raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry Benjamin, I’ve been around humans long enough to be able to spot a harmless crush. He’ll sigh and pine at the ‘unattainable older woman’ shield he put around me until he gets over it.”

“I’ll trust your expertise on the matter,” Sisko said wryly. “While we’re on the subject, what’s your opinion of him?”

“My opinion?”

“You've trained your share of clueless ensigns and terrorized enough trill initiates...”

“That’s true,” Dax agreed. “I happen to remember one young cadet who swore he’d be captain of a starship by thirty.”

“And an admiral by forty.”

“How is that going for you?”

“Further along than Cal. And you’re changing the subject.”

Those whiskers, again. “The subject being?”

“Come on now, Dax. You two were stuck on the Bhaskara for three weeks. That’s more than long enough for you to get a good read on him.”

“Is this an official request from my superior officer?”

Superior officer. Curzon. That…was going to take some getting used to. “If it has to be, but I’d rather be talking with an old friend whose opinion I trust.”

Dax looked pensively at patterns on the deck plating as they walked. “He’s...young. Eager. Brilliant and knows it, but even the arrogance feels like an affectation. Almost obligatory. At least, it’s flimsy enough that I doubt it will last long outside of a competitive Academy environment.”

“He specifically asked to be here.”

Dax’s hum was like rippling water. “He told me that as well.”

“That sounds like a man with something to prove.” Sisko didn’t hide the disapproval in his voice. From another officer under his command, maybe. Not from Dax.

“Yes, but it’s to himself first and foremost. I’m not a counselor Benjamin, so I couldn’t tell you why, but  I’m confident his rough edges will be smoothed over with little bit of time, wisdom, and real-world experience. And,” she added with a thin smile. “The guiding hand of a wise mentor.”

“I hope I can live up to your example.”

“Oh, I meant me. You’ll do too, I suppose,” Dax winked. “I taught you everything you know.”

For the first time since he boarded that godforsaken Cardassian station, Ben Sisko laughed. “Not everything, Old Man.”

[procrastinatorimagines]

Okay Part 8 (Final)

Fandom: One Chicago

Series: Okay

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 (Final)

Pairing: Matt Casey x Halstead!Reader

Warning/s: injury, mentions of trauma

Word Count: 1,224

Summary: After narrowly escaping certain death you decided to turn your life around and become a firefighter, and although it wasn’t easy, you survived your first week at 51. Now, you’ve managed to escape certain death for a second time, solving the mystery of your very first fire and saving the life of a little girl in the process, not bad for a candidate huh? The only thing left to do now is figure out how to more forward, with your brothers and your firehouse by your side, with one firefighter in particular staying a little closer than the others. 

Tags: @alievans007 // @louiselikeswriting // @killjoys-make-some-noise-na-na // @sesamepancakes

Will and Jay hadn’t left your side since you’d arrived at the hospital, fussing over you so much that Casey showing up was like a breath of fresh air, finally having an excuse to ask them for some space. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate the attention, they loved you and they were worried about you, but you still felt like you were suffocating a little bit. 

“Hey,” Casey smiled, knocking on the door as you and your brothers looked up, “how’re you feeling?” He glanced at the bandages covering your hands and forearms, smile slipping away.

“Been worse,” you replied with a shrug, your brothers’ faces dark with the knowledge that that was true. “How’s Lily?”

“As good as can be expected,” Casey told you solemnly, “physically... she’ll be fine, but Doctor Charles is sorting out a long term treatment plan for her and her grandparents are on their way from New York.”

You swallowed hard, so much sympathy and anger swirling inside of you at the thought of what she went through, what she’d still have to go through. 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get there sooner,” Casey apologised, guilt riddling his words as he looked slightly down, not meeting your eyes. 

“But you came,” you told him, “how’d you know I was in trouble?”

“That call felt wrong, and I had no doubt that you ignored my advice to go home and kept looking for Lily on your own,” he explained.

“Wait, you called Casey when you found Lily and not me?” Jay interjected, definitely a little offended. 

"Hey, you’re not allowed to be mad at me right now, I was nearly killed... again,” you informed him, earning a little grin from Will.

“Fine,” Jay held up his hands, “but we’re discussing this later.” Oh, you had no doubt you were going to receive a brotherly lecture for that.

A silence fell in the room, you and Casey giving each other half glances before Jay looked to Will, gesturing with his head for them to leave. “We’ll be close by if you need anything,” Jay told you, giving your shoulder a squeeze before heading out, nodding at Casey as he left.

“Take it easy, you’ve earned it,” Will said sincerely, following his younger brother out.

“Guess I should thank you for saving me again,” you told Casey as he approached the bed, momentarily forgetting the couple dozen stitches in each of your hands as you tried to sit up, pain shot up both your arms. 

“No, you saved yourself this time,” Casey insisted, wincing in response to your pain as he looked you over.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” you admitted, not feeling like the hero everyone seemed to think you were as you looked at your hands. Lily was safe, but you should have done a better job protecting her in the first place. 

“Are you kidding? You saved Lily,” He said with conviction, causing you to look back up at his face. He was worried for you, but you could also see pride in his eyes. “You even saved Paul, why?” He asked, no judgement, just curiosity.

“If I didn’t... I would have as good as killed him, and he deserves to live with what he did, get justice the right way,” you tried to articulate what had gone through your head in those seconds before you’d ran back inside for the man who’d caused so much pain. “I know it probably sounds silly,” you added but Casey shook his head immediately.

“No it’s... admirable,” he said, hesitating for a minute before he put a tentative hand on your shoulder, “you scared the crap out of me with that phone call you know.”

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, “I know I should have listened to you, going in alone was stupid-”

“You’re right, it was, but I’m the one who should have realised you wouldn’t let it go, I should have been there with you, you did the right thing,” he said, “if you hadn’t... we would have been recovering Lily’s body from that fire. Remember that Y/N,” Casey met your eyes, grip on your shoulder tighter as his words sunk in. 

“Thank you,” you said, your voice smaller than you expected, lightly putting your hand over his. Casey’s belief in you seemed to be unwavering, and you weren’t sure if you deserved it, but you certainly didn’t mind it. 

“So, what’s next, after you recover?” Casey asked, hand still lingering on yours, “are you- do you want to come back to 51?” It sounded like something he’d been thinking a lot about.

You paused, knowing why he was asking - you’d been through a lot, and no one would blame you if you never wanted to even look at another fire again, let alone run head first into one almost daily. But you’d given the question a lot of thought too since you arrived in the hospital, this experience not just reminding you of your previous ordeal, but why it had inspired you to become a firefighter in the first place. 

“I am,” you told him confidently, an answer that Casey seemed very glad about as he smiled.

“Well, drinks on me to celebrate when you get out of here,” he promised.

“You think Herrmann will let me drink on the house?” You asked with a grin.

“Maybe one, potentially just discounted though,” he laughed. It was a good sound, seeming more like himself again as the worry receded. You laughed too, enjoying the feeling of normalcy and security you felt for the moment, Casey’s presence often having that affect on you nowadays. 

“You eaten yet?” He asked, more relaxed as you shook your head. “I’ll grab us some food, sit tight.”

“Like I’m going anywhere,” you replied pointedly. Casey grinned, hesitating as he turned to leave, looking back at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. 

“I’m glad you’re okay Y/N,” he told you, taking your hand as his eyes lingered on you for a moment, unmentioned tension becoming more apparent as you realised just how close he’d gotten to you as you’d talked. You didn’t know what to say, taken over by a well of emotions.

In that moment it was like you were magnetised, unconsciously pulled together by forces beyond your control. And then his lips were against yours, only briefly, but you could still feel them tingling when he stepped back, clearly realising he probably shouldn’t have done that. After everything you’d been through though, what the hell, you deserved it. 

"Sorry, I-” He began, eyes wide as he dropped your hand.

“I know,” you told him honestly, something unspoken between the two of you being communicated in that moment, something that you’d been feeling building up for a while now. 

“When you get out the hospital, maybe we could spend some time together that isn’t tied to a case?” He suggested hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck as he waited for your response.

“I’d like that,” you answered with a soft smile, pieces coming together in a surprising but not at all unwelcome way. Your focus had been so singular when it had come to this job, this case, finding Lily... that you hadn’t really realised just exactly how close you’d gotten to Casey. But this wasn’t the kind of unknown that you dreaded.

You held each other’s gaze for a moment before your stomach growled audibily, the moment broken as you both chuckled, Casey leaving to go grab you some food, though his eyes did linger on you for a moment.

There was a lot to figure out, a lot to think about, a lot of pieces to put back together, but you felt ready, and you weren’t afraid. So you smiled, your breathing a little easier as you began to put the past behind you, finally ready to look to the future and whatever it may hold. 

[romiithebirdie]

Epilogue for the Lost - Chapter 2

Present day.

Inko Midoriya entered her apartment, softly closing the front door behind her after dropping her shopping bags in the hallway. A harsh breeze slapped her bare arms and she shivered, quickly removing her shoes and padding into the living room to close the window that she hadn't realised she'd left open.

Cheerful music rang out in the direction of the kitchen and she immediately followed the sound up towards one of her kitchen worktops. Within seconds, Inko slid her arm across the space and picked up the mobile device with a questioning frown.

UNKNOWN CALLER

Timidly, she pressed the Answer button and slowly put it to her ear;

"Midoriya Residence, may I ask who's calling?"

Her response came from an intangible grunt followed by loud rustling, like the caller was fumbling through plastic liners. She sighed, "Hello?"

"Y-yeah," the audio was fuzzy, almost like they had a bad signal connection from wherever they were calling from. "I'm looking for an Inko Midoriya."

"Speaking."

"I see."

Inko huffed, switching her phone into her other free hand; "So? Is there something you needed or-"

"You were his wife, right?"

And her instinct to slam the phone down at that moment faltered and she immediately was hit with old painful memories.

"E-Excuse me?" her voice was hushed, like she'd been winded by those words alone.

"Your husband. Hisashi Midoriya."

"Who is this?"

"Just somebody who wanted to talk."

"My husband hasn't lived here," since he disappeared, "for a while. I'm sorry if you were trying to reach him, I can't help you."

With that brief explanation, she immediately ended the call and dropped it on the table top. With a stifled gasp, she clamped a hand over her mouth and leaned over one of the kitchen chairs as if she were in pain.

Emotional pain.

She really needed Izuku right now…

UNKNOWN CALLER buzzed across her phone screen for the second time and a shiver ran from the back of her neck all the way down to her spine. Was someone trying to pull a sick prank or something? She had no clue.

Reluctantly, she pressed Answer once again and whispered an anxious, "Hello?"

"You know you cry way too much, right? Same old Inko."

Crying?

She gingerly touched her cheek and immediately felt the wetness. Then it dawned on her what this person had just said and her breath hitched in her throat.

"Who is this?" she repeated, firmer this time while brushing the back of her arm against her face. Somebody had been watching her, the problem was she had no idea where. "Listen," her voice was jittery yet she ignored it, "I don't know how you got my number or where you've seen me but if you don't stop right now, I will be calling the authorities."

"Call them," the voice cackled gruffly on the other side of the line, "besides, who said anything about having seen you? You shouldn't leave your window open when you leave the house."

The window.

It had been open when she'd returned home from her errand.

She lowered the phone from her ear, heart racing against her chest while her ears picked up every tiny sound coming from the floorboards, thumps against the walls from the neighbours and a slow ticking sound coming from the kitchen clock.

The front door was only along the hallway. Almost taunting her with the reflective rays of the sunshine outside.

Tick, tick, tick.

It felt like she was stuck in slow-motion, her legs trembling violently under the assumption there might be an intruder hiding somewhere in her home right now…

"You've gone quiet."

Was that this person's plan? To lure her outside?

"I-I…" Inko choked on her own words.

"Don't you like talking to me?"

No. I really don't.

"I like talking to you."

Inko closed her eyes and bit her lip before shaking her head.

"After all, we're practically family."

                                                .-.-.-.-.

"You serious, Deku?" came the sneer of a young boy with spiky ash-blond hair. Behind him stood two other boys around the same age as they towered over a smaller boy with messy green locks. "You really think a weakling like you can do a fucking thing against the three of us?"

"He was crying, Kacchan!" the green-haired boy pleaded, wiping furiously at his tear-stained cheeks. "You can't keep acting like a bully; it's wrong!"

"The hell did you just say to me?!"

It was the wrong choice of words.

Something Izuku had quickly learned when dealing with Katsuki Bakugou, a boy that used to be his friend. However, when Izuku confided to the other child about the secret that greatly upset his parents, he was met with complete scorn and eventually became the class outcast.

Defenseless Izuku, the freak that saw dead people and nobody wanted to be friends with.

However, Katsuki's bullying tendencies halted after one of his friends, Tsubasa, vanished without a trace. The fiery boy grew more withdrawn and unsure, keeping Izuku at a great distance rather than choosing to torment him.

Katsuki Bakugou eventually moved away from Musutafu to live with his grandparents after a gruesome event that deeply traumatised him;

Early one morning, the remains of Mitsuki and Masaru Bakugou were found along the coastal side of Dagobah Beach. The media kept a lot of the details brief due to the case's sheer horrifying nature.

Masaru Bakugou was found with his throat slit and hands cut off while Mitsuki Bakugou was covered in various stab wounds with her tongue removed. The forensics and autopsies had ruled out that they had been dead for quite some time due to the fact that their corpses were spread with heavy decay.

Izuku only remembered fragments of the dreadful news; his father being more reserved while his mother broke down over discovering their demise. From what he remembered, his mother and Auntie Mitsuki had met in Junior High and had remained friends in their adult life.

Despite Katsuki's ill-treatment of him, Izuku still found himself feeling concerned for the louder boy. Sadly, Izuku never got a chance to try and rekindle his friendship with the youngest Bakugou due to him immediately being sent away.

It was something that Izuku still found himself longing for many years later in his teenage years…

"Hi, everybody. My name is Izuku Midoriya and I'm visiting today to talk about things that have affected me since I was very young."

And I'd rather be anywhere else than here right now…

Izuku forced himself to smile, despite the overwhelming feeling of nerves tugging away at his chest that made him feel more like a wooden puppet than an actual person at this point. It was pretty on point, he'd been rehearsing his greeting for a while now anyway...

"Thank you, Midoriya, please take your seat," one of the group therapy leaders smiled, sitting forward while hunched over her thick clipboard in an extremely awkward manner. Izuku bared his teeth in another forced grin before sitting back down on his plastic chair, trying to ignore the burn of embarrassment scorching his freckled cheeks.

While various names chorused amongst each other, Izuku chose to tune out. His emerald green eyes focused completely on a particular spot on the floor tiles as voices blended into one incoherent fuzzy noise. Almost sounding like television static.

Therapy had been his mother's idea. Izuku hadn't been thrilled at the proposition but he knew how much it would mean to her if he tried it out. That was several months ago.

They had attempted medication and counselling in the past too, thus why Izuku was understandably growing more and more tired with it. It was the same old story to him.

While he had grown up seeing things that would be… odd to most, the idea for counselling had nothing to do with the invisible people that clung to him in desperation. They still talked to him, though Izuku often found himself tuning out more nowadays.

Maybe he was just crazy?

That would explain why his mother was always sad and his father cut them off years ago.

Perhaps it was the stress of dealing with a problem child?

Izuku shook his head, chiding himself internally for even daring to consider such a ludicrous possibility;

Both of his parents loved him.

His mother was still grieving her husband's disappearance, it had nothing to do with Izuku's quirky little ability to see dead people…

"Get a grip, Izuku," he muttered to himself.

"Uh, is everything alright over there, young man?" one of the counsellors blinked, everybody's attention solely on the greenette as he flushed in humiliation.

Add talking to yourself to that pile of issues too, Izuku thought miserably to himself while the group therapy session came to end. The second that the adults dismissed the teens, Izuku snatched up his bag and bolted for the exit door like his life depended on it. Luckily, it was a short ride on the bullet train back to the city of Musutafu's Tattooin Station and then a ten minute walk back to his apartment complex.

As he made his way along his neighbourhood street, he noticed a large number of people crowding around the apartment blocks, some people were filming while police were running around and taping the area off to the civilians.

What in the…

While he craned his neck to try and see what was happening, his shoulder bumped against another member of the public and they made a short, restrained grunt as they were pushed to the side.

"S-Sorry, are you-" Izuku froze, emerald orbs meeting an intense crimson that sparked an old feeling of anxiousness and bad nostalgia.

"It's fine," the guy muttered, lowering his head before turning on his heel and striding in the opposite direction of the scene.

That was odd, Izuku frowned, watching the guy disappear amongst the sea of people flocking around the teen while using their phones to record.

Paramedics dressed in green appeared from the stairwell of the apartment complex and rushed across the lawn, pushing a stretcher on wheels. Izuku carefully pushed his way towards the front of the crowd and immediately froze in complete horror.

On the stretcher was his mother.

Thick gauze and towels were drenched in red that could only have been blood and she had an oxygen mask over her face. Izuku's vision suddenly swam and he clung to the nearest stranger, gasping for breath.

Police, paramedics and people were surrounding the entire vicinity. Realisation smacked Izuku as hard as a blunt object striking him across the face.

Holy shit. Who had done this?

His mother was being taken away on a stretcher covered in blood. He honestly didn't understand what was currently happening. Why was this happening?

The last that Izuku saw of his kind, gentle mother before the paramedics closed the ambulance doors were three random letters that had been carved into her arm;

A.F.O

[restmyheadatnightcontent]

until we dream of life and life becomes a dream

hello! i know it’s been a while but i’m back with my next fill for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo​

a little yennefer & ciri fluff with some pre-relationship yennskier as well as a treat (set early on in this verse)

Prompt: Soothing their fear

Relationships: Yennefer & Ciri, minor Yennefer/Jaskier

Rating: T

CW: mention of nightmares

Summary:  Ciri may have calmed down enough to sleep, but Yennefer cannot seem to. There is something  humming beneath her skin. She had pushed aside her fear to help Ciri but now it has come flooding back along with the thoughts that make her wonder if she is cut out for this, if she is doing any good.Or if, despite everything, all she is doing is making things worse.

until we dream of life and life becomes a dream

She is sitting on the sofa, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram when she hears the shout. She startles and drops her phone beside her, before rushing up the stairs.

Ciri has been with her for almost two months now, and although they don’t happen as frequently, she is still woken by nightmares often and Yennefer’s heart still drops every time, knowing that Ciri is hurting.

Anxiety washes through her as she makes her way towards Ciri’s room, wondering if this will be the time where she puts a foot wrong, says something or does something that will mean losing Ciri, wondering if this will be the moment the girl realises she doesn’t want to be here anymore, that she wants to live with someone else. Someone who is a natural parent, who is easily affectionate, who knows what to do, who finds it all easy.

Someone not like her.

She pushes those thoughts aside as she makes her way into the room. It is filled with the warm light of her nightlight which they had bought so that if the girl woke up in the night, she would not wake up in darkness, they hoped that the light would be comforting.

But right now, it does not seem to be comforting at all.

The gentleness of the golden light filling the room is in stark contrast to the girl tossing and turning in the bed, whimpers and shouts falling from her mouth.

Yennefer sits on the bed next to Ciri, and carefully reaches out to place her hand on Ciri’s forehead. Often Ciri’s nightmares can be violent and leave her waking up with a swinging arm, and Yennefer has learnt the hard way that sometimes she has to try and wake Ciri carefully from a distance. But thankfully, tonight seems to be one of the calmer nights so she take the opportunity to be closer.

“Ciri,” she says, quietly but loud enough that it will hopefully penetrate the chaos in the girls mind. “Ciri, it’s ok. It’s just a nightmare, but you need to wake up.”

It takes a few minutes for Ciri to wake up, but it feels like hours as she sits there and strokes her hand through the long, blonde hair, waiting for the cries to stop, being able to do nothing but murmur comforts to her, until she wakes up.

Ciri’s eyes fly open as she wakes with a gasp, and Yennefers heart breaks as she watches the girl sits up and frantically search the room for the family she knows she saw in her mind only moments ago.

“Hey, its ok. You’re alright, it was just a bad dream. It’s ok,” she soothes. She doesn’t bother to say it was just a dream or it wasn’t real because they both know that everything Ciri is seeing was real, and her nightmares are just twisted version of her memories.

Ciri seems to come back to herself, her blue eyes clearing as they settle on Yennefer.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” she sniffs, wiping the sleeve of her pyjama top across her nose, voice still thick with tears.

“I wasn’t even asleep yet,” Yen replies. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Sometimes after a nightmare, Ciri wants to talk about it, or wants to talk about her family, telling Yennefer stories about funny things her grandparents, or the few things she can remember about her parents. Sometimes they look through photos, replacing the images of her family Ciri saw in her dream with the smiling faces that look back at her from the pages.

Ciri shakes her head, before asking in a small voice. “Could I – could I maybe have a hug?”

“Of course you can. You can always have a hug,” Yennefer says, before enveloping the girl in her arms. Normally, during the day Ciri is free with her affection and will come bounding up to hug Yennefer whenever she feels like it, but here in the aftermath of a nightmare, she becomes shy and tentative with it.

Yennefer doesn’t say anything as she feels her jumper grow damp with tears, just rubs soothing circles onto Ciri’s back as she cries quietly into Yennefer’s chest.

After a while, as Ciri’s tears lessen Yennefer asks “Do you want to go downstairs? Watch some TV with a hot chocolate? Or do you just want to go back to sleep?”

Sometimes, Ciri finds it hard to go back to sleep after she wakes from a nightmare, so they spend the night wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, watching some nonsense on TV until eventually Ciri will slump against her shoulder and she will carry her back up to bed. And Yennefer is sure that there are people that would say that giving a child hot chocolate in the middle of the night was a bad idea, but it never fails to put a smile on Ciri’s face, so frankly all those people can fuck off.

“I think just sleep, if that’s okay?” Ciri says.

“That’s fine. I’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Yennefer says as she tucks the blanket up around Ciri.

Ciri’s eyes eventually slip shut and her breathing deepens, and Yennefer sits next to her stroking her hair until she is snoring softly. Then she makes her way out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her and leaning against the door and takes a deep breath. Ciri may have calmed down enough to sleep, but Yennefer cannot seem to.

There is something  humming beneath her skin. She had pushed aside her fear to help Ciri but now it has come flooding back along with the thoughts that make her wonder if she is cut out for this, if she is doing any good.

Or if, despite everything, all she is doing is making things worse.

She makes her way to the kitchen, pours herself a glass of wine and sits on the sofa. She picks up her phone from where she had abandoned it before running up the stairs to check on Ciri. There is a new message, and she unlocks her phone to see it is from Jaskier.

Jaskier: I swear if I get one more email from a parent telling me to cast their child as the lead I’m just going to play all the parts myself

She smirks and types out a reply

You’re up late

I could say the same about you

 Ciri had a nightmare.

Is she ok?

She’s asleep.

That’s good.

Are you okay?

She goes to type I’m fine but she hesitates, and she’s not enitirely sure why. Maybe it’s because she isn’t fine, not really, she still feels nervous and . But it’s not like she is going to tell Jaskier that, she barely knows him, but yet she still hesitates. It would be so easy, to type out the lie and move on but she can’t quite bring herself to do it. Maybe it’s because she thinks he might understand. Because they are more similar than she will ever admit. That he knows that it is hard to be kind sometimes, when you learnt that being selfish was the only way to get what you wanted.

No-one else would understand.

Not Triss, who only knows kindness, wouldn’t get it. Triss who is kind without hesitation or thought and doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body. Triss who finds showing kindess as easy as breathing, Triss who always seems to know the right thing to say to make feel better, who seems to just understand how someone is feeling, without them having to say anything at all.

Not Renfri, who sees no point in being kind. Kindness has no place in Renfri’s world, she sees no sense in showing kindness in a world that has been nothing but cruel to her. Being kind holds no use for her and so she simply isn’t. Honestly, Yennefer can’t blame her for it. Renfri cares about people in her own way, and Yennefer knows that the other woman cares for her, but she wouldn’t go so far as to describe her as kind.

She certainly can’t talk to Tissaia about it. Although the woman is legally her mother,she always felt that Tissaia cared more about the idea of her than about her. She cared but she wasn’t affectionate or kind, she was strict and honest which Yennefer did respect at the time and no doubt needed,  but it doesn’t put the woman at top of her list for those she goes to for emotional advice.

Not that there are many people on that list.

And somehow, Jaskier seems to have made his way on to it.

Later she will blame it on the wine, but she accepts the call.

“Well hello there Yennefer what a pleasant surprise this is!” he cheers, sounding far too alert for this early in the morning.

“You’re the one that rang me,” she points out.

“I know, but I wasn’t actually expecting you to pick up,” he replies, and something flashes through her, a feeling she can’t quite name. Before she can think about it anymore, he asks “So are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay. Because it’s alright if you’re not, you know. It must be tough, looking after a child all by yourself.”

“And what would you know about it?”

She doesn’t know much about his relationship with his parents, aside from the odd comment from Renfri, and given how the man has a tendency to say every incessant  thought that comes into head out loud, and the fact that he hasn’t said anything about his parents, tells her everything she needs to know about the relationship he has with his parents.

“Do you get weekly phonecalls from the poor mothers of all the bastards you’ve left behind all over the place begging you to come back and help them raise your spawn?”

“No, I’ll have you know that I am always incredibly careful about things like that and there are no little Julians running about the place,” he says.

“Thank the gods,”

“Anyway—” he continues, as though she hadn’t said anything “--what I was trying to say was that any sane person would find it hard to raise a child alone, and it’s only natural if you’re scared.”

“I am not scared,” she says bitingly, but she knows a little too quickly for it to be true.

“Well good for you then but still, I think it’s fine if you are. From what I’ve heard, almost all parents worry about something. I don’t think being scared makes you weak, and in all honesty I think it makes you a better parent. If you’re scared of making a mistake, then you’re less likely to make one.”

“And if I do make a mistake?”

“I’m sure you’d be able to figure out a way to fix it,” he says.

There is a moment of quiet, a moment where Yennefer can end the call and stop herself before she says something incriminating, before she reveals a part of herself that she can’t take back. She is used to doing things alone, she can figure this out by herself.

Or, she could let him in.

She could tell him, tell him about how terrified she is by the prospect of being a parent, knowing that she wants to do it so well, to give Ciri the chances she never had, but she is so scared of doing it wrong. Ciri is depending on her, so she has to do it right.

Otherwise she risks ruining everything.

Again, she isn’t sure why she feels the need to say it to Jaskier of all people, but she needs to tell someone about the thoughts running through her head before the voices become too loud and she’ll be unable to hear anything else, before the doubts that are swirling around her become too much and she starts drowning.

She just has to take the leap.

This is for more than just her, this is for Ciri, and she deserves better than Yennefer trying to muddle through it on her own.

So she leaps.

“It’s just – she – she’s so vulnerable. She’s seen so much and been through so much, and she’s hurting and I just want to help but I can’t help but wonder that I’m making it all worse,” she admits. “I have no clue what I’m doing. I never know what to say and I’m worried that everything I do say is wrong. Everyone else makes it look so easy, and I feel like I’m barely staying afloat.”

“Welcome to being a parent. I’m pretty sure everyone feels the same. Everyone is just like a duck, looking all calm and then paddling like hell underneath,” he replies flippantly.

She can feel her anger rising. He doesn’t get it, of course he doesn’t, and she is tempted to just hang up. But now the gates are opened, and the words keep coming.

“But I’m not like every other parent, and Ciri isn’t like every other child. This is different, so I have to be different and I have to do it right,” she barks. “I cannot let her down.”

“In what way are you letting her down? You took her in, you gave her a home. You hold her, you make her laugh, you let her cry, you sit with her when she has nightmares. You care about her. You are there for her when she needs you to be. You’re trying. You’re making the effort. Isn’t that all you can do?”

“Is it that simple? Isn’t there anything more? More than just trying?”

“Maybe, but it’s a lot more than some people seem able to manage,” he says quietly, voice pained and she has no doubt he is speaking from experience. “I think that right now all she needs is time. She needs someone steady, someone who will be there, an anchor to help ground her when the seas get too rough, and somewhere to land when the chaos subsides.”

She sighs. He’s right. Or at least he sounds right enough to have calmed her worries, at least for tonight.  That it will just take time, and that it will be all be alright in the end. And if it’s not, then she’ll figure something out. He’s right, and she thinks that even when she sleeps on it, he will likely still be right tomorrow.

Not that she will tell him that.

“You’re mixing your metaphors.”

“Well it’s 2 o’clock in the morning so excuse me if my poetry isn’t perfect,” he argues.

“Why are you up so late anyway?”

“Ah well, you know us tortured artist types darling, no stranger to a sleepless night,” he says easily, but there is something else in his voice. He sounds tired, more tired than she has ever heard him before and she’s sure there is more to it, but she doesn’t ask. She probably could, she has shown him a vulnerable side of herself and knows that he would probably show the same in return, if she asked.

But she doesn’t.

For as open as he is, for as much as he talks, there are many things that Jaskier doesn’t say, there are things he keeps hidden away. There is a lot that he hasn’t chosen to share with her yet, but she is happy wait. He has wormed his way  into their lives, but she finds that she doesn’t mind. He intrigues her, he is loud and cheerful and annoying, a seemingly simple person, but she knows that there is more beneath the surface, more to him that meets the eye.

And surprisingly, she finds that she is ready to wait He is intrigues her, in a way that no-one has in a long time and she can be patient. He doesn’t seem to be going anywhere soon, so she has time to figure him out.

Until then, she can keep teasing him.  

“You’re a primary school teacher who plays a silly little guitar, you’re hardly a tortured artist.”

“It is a ukulele, how many times do I have to tell you? And art comes in all forms, Yennefer, don’t be such a snob.”

“It’s not being a snob if you are genuinely terrible,” she retorts.

He makes an undignified noise on the other end of the phone. “How dare you, I’ll have you know I am an excellent ukeleleist! And I am also proficient at playing many other instruments.”

“’Ukeleleist’? I’m pretty sure that isn’t a thing.”

“Oh shut up! It’s 2am, it’s allowed to be a thing,” he grumbles.

A sense of quiet lulls over them, and suddenly Yennefer has to bite back a yawn.  All her fear and anxiety has left her now, leaving only tiredness behind. She can hear him tapping the keys of his laptop, probably working on his next song.

“Jaskier?” she asks, her eyes now growing heavy.

The tapping pauses. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. For tonight, for this. I needed to hear that,” she says.

“Anytime,” he replies earnestly.

They say their goodbyes, and she makes her way up to her own bed. But before she does, she stops at Ciri’s room and peers in at the girl, who is sleeping softly, mouth open slightly as she drools on the pillow, far more peaceful than she was earlier.

It hasn’t been easy for either of them so far, life changing so suddenly for both of them, but they’ll figure it out. There will no doubt be mistakes, and people will get hurt, but she cares for this girl, more than she has cared about anything else before, and so she will make it work.

And it will be easier, because she knows she doesn’t have to do it on her own.

[star-spangledstud]

SAVE THE DAY

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary:  Peter wants to quit being Spider-Man, but the reader needs saving.

Word Count: 3600-ish.

Warnings: mentions of violence/alcoholism and abuse/hostage situation. Angst with fluffy ending.

A/N: Let’s just pretend Peter didn’t turn into dust during IW. Also, this has a dark theme? I wrote this a while ago and figured I’d post it. It’s pretty bad, sorry. 

Peter Parker is sick and tired of being Spider-Man. 

Between hardly getting any sleep and his grades faltering miserably because of his nightly escapades, the fact that half of his friends died just three weeks ago doesn’t exactly help his case. He’s tired of putting on the suit, tired of scouring the streets in the dark of night, tired of waiting for crimes to happen when he really should be studying. 

Peter lost some of the people he looked up to the most, and ever since he returned home, he hasn’t been able to stop feeling horrendously guilty over the fact that he wasn’t able to save them. He misses his friends, but mostly, he misses his coworkers, half of whom had disappeared into dust. What’s the point of being Spider-Man when you can’t even save the ones you hold dear to your heart?

Peter is seated behind his desk, black ink pen tightly gripped between his clammy fingers. His left palm is stuck under his chin, and his eyes, droopy and fluttery, shift between the clock hanging above the door towards the back of the classroom. His hazel orbs scan everything from the green linoleum floors to the yellow-stained ceiling with its flickering lights. Empty seats line the back walls, desks and chairs stacked on top of each other in a sick manner.

Desks that were once filled with students now sat empty to collect dust and termites. Most of the kids that vanished didn’t even know who Thanos was or what his intentions were. It isn’t fair, Peter thinks as he grips his pen and clenches his jaw. They didn’t deserve to die. 

Several of Peter’s classes have been postponed until further notice due to the sudden lack of staff and student body. Of course, Mr. Brown hadn’t vanished, and so, Peter is sitting in his Tuesday morning math class with barely over a dozen other kids. Each one of them looks just as sad, confused and most of all defeated as Peter does, because most of them have lost multiple family members and friends in the blink of an eye without any hope of bringing them back. 

James from physics has lost both his parents. Samantha from biology lost only one, but her grandparents as well. Francis from literature didn’t have parents even before the Snap, but lived with her aunt and uncle who both disappeared. The gist of it is clear; grief, hurt and anger surrounds the school like a thick, impenetrable blanket of fire from which nobody can escape and for a moment, Peter doesn’t know on which side of the Snap he’d rather be. 

The seconds on the clock tick by agonizingly slowly. Mr. Brown knows nobody in his class gives a shit about potentially solving mathematical problems anymore, but life must go at the end of the day and until anyone has any better ideas, the only thing the school board knows to do is to keep teaching classes to whoever decides to show up. To be fair, even though it’s nothing like how it used to be, school remains the only constant in most of these kids’ lives. 

Doubt continues to plague Peter’s cloudy mind as the day progresses. He’s already stuffed his suit in Ned’s locker - he wouldn’t be needing the space anymore anyway. The mere thought of his best friend vanishing into thin air made his fist curl and his eyebrows twitch in anger and every waking moment of his existence he hates himself for not being able to help him make it through the Snap. Then again, maybe it was for the best. 

Being alive suddenly didn’t seem like such a great thing anymore with the world in complete shambles. 

After class is over, most of the students slowly drag their feet towards the library or the cafeteria. With so many postponed classes, study hours are given left and right until the board has time to conjure a new schedule. Peter slings his backpack over his shoulder and, while dragging his feet to the library, absentmindedly reaches his phone from his back pocket. The latest iPhone he was given by Tony now feels alien in his hand, especially since half of his contacts don’t exist anymore. The Snap chat streak he used to have with Ned died weeks ago, and the last message Peter sent him still sits in Ned’s inbox marked as ‘unread’. Peter grips the device and bites his lip. He has to stop himself from throwing it out of the window all together. Looking at it has become unbearable. 

Just as he’s about to shove it back deep inside his pocket, it vibrates. He thinks it’s just his imagination at first, but when his hand shakes for the second time, he lifts up the phone with the thumping of his heart. 

It’s you, your name displayed as the caller ID across the screen, followed by blue and red heart emojis. You picked those out yourself. 

“What’s up?” he asks after picking up, “where are you? You have no idea how boring math is without you.” 

When the line momentarily remains silent on your end, Peter shrugs. You’ve pocket-dialed him before so it doesn’t immediately strike him as odd, and when he calls your name and doesn’t receive a response, he hangs up, finally able to place the phone in his pocket where he hopes it will remain forever. 

But it doesn’t remain there forever, because less than a minute later, it rings again, once more flashing your name across the screen for his eyes to see. His groans, but picks up anyway as he stands in front of the library entrance. 

“Y/N?” He asks, holding the device tightly to his ear just in case he can hear you in the distance. 

“No,” you whisper finally, “he’s going to kill a bunch of people, P.” 

Peter’s blood runs cold when the call is ended once again. He wastes no time sprinting towards Ned’s old locker and holds his breath when he dashes through the empty hallways. Before he gets there, he calls you back. You don’t answer. 

Peter sneaks the costume into his backpack and changes into it in the empty bathroom near the physics lab. He stuffs his backpack inside the air vent and dials your number again. With his phone stuck tightly against his ear, he jumps out of the window.

You are one of the only people Peter still has left and vice versa. The two of you have been friends for ages, sharing nearly every class and you, him and Ned always sit together for lunch. The three of you would hang out together after school as well; you saw movies together and played video games on the weekends. You texted each other constantly. 

The Snap wiped out nearly your entire family. Your mother, little brother and both of your grandparents and your aunt and uncle on both sides. You were left with nobody but your step-father.

Peter knows the two of you don’t get along. The man drinks too much, stays out too late even during the week and sometimes, he doesn’t even come home for days. Your mother always welcomed him back with open arms and chose to ignore the empty bottles of vodka and whiskey in the trash. She ignored the perfume on his clothes and his behavior towards you and stayed with him, a man so unstable he couldn’t hold jobs longer than a few months at a time. Her blindness to his shenanigans always angered Peter, because the relationship between your mother and step-father affected you in more ways than you cared to admit.

He knows you wish it was him who died instead of your mom and frankly, Peter wishes the same. He never liked the guy.  

Peter is extremely worried about you, because he knows the drinking has doubled since your mom died. You’ve been skipping school to take care of the household and you know very well how Peter feels about your step-father’s lack of participation in and around the home. He started taking you away from your house whenever he could find the time and you’d even met Tony Stark the first time Peter took you to the tower. It surprised Peter to see how well the two of you got along, but then again, computer science is your favorite subject in school so it’s something the two of you could bond over. Well, it used to be anyway, because the class got dropped after the teacher and eight of his students got lost in the Snap. 

Peter’s heart rams against his rib cage when you finally answer the phone. In the background, he can hear people screaming and shouting. 

“Y/N? Where the hell are you?” He asks, using his webs to sling himself from building to building to avoid being seen in broad daylight. 

“Central bank,” you whisper under shaky breaths, “gun. Can’t talk.” 

The line goes dead once again, and Peter immediately changes direction. 

You knew something was wrong when Hank offered to drive you to school this morning, because he’d never volunteered to take you anywhere before and you doubted he would start now. The red rims around his dull, yellow eyes made you decline his proposal at first but he insisted, and in fear of getting hurt by a man nearly twice your size, you finally agreed to have him drive you to school. You weren’t in any kind of mood to argue with him, and you sure as hell didn’t want to provoke him. Besides, the drive would only take ten minutes, while walking took you nearly half an hour, so you couldn’t exactly complain. 

It saddened you to see him like this. The two of you never really got along, but at least a small part of you hoped that the shared loss of your mom and little brother would bring you some type of twisted companionship, something dark to bond over. You wanted to ask him if Peter could stay over for dinner, but the dark sweat stains on his creme t-shirt and his iron grip on the wheel made you stay quiet. 

Hank never liked talking when he had a hangover. Talking too much always made him angry, and you don’t like seeing him pissed off. Granted, the only times he’d physically hurt you were when he was so drunk he couldn’t even tell you his own name, but you still fear him even now, afraid that one day he might actually do something he can never take back. With this knowledge, you typically stick to avoiding him on mornings after he’s had too much to drink. Nowadays though, it’s all he does. 

Even when he deviates from the usual route to your school, you bite your tongue in fear of pissing him off. Perhaps, you think, he’s forgotten the location of your school or maybe he’s too hungover to think straight and the entire time, you expect him to turn around. He doesn’t, but wen he finally does stop, he does so in front of Central Bank. 

You finally dare to speak up, asking him quietly what the two of you are doing there and fully expect him to sneer at you, to spit out that he’s only going to withdrawal money from your mother’s account again so he can support his bad habits, but instead of answering, he leaves you in the car and reaches for the trunk. 

“What are you doing?!” You ask fearfully when he rips open your door and grabs a fistful of your hair. 

“Shut up and don’t make a sound, got it?” 

He pulls your head towards the ground when he walks, so the only thing you can see is the beat up sneakers on his feet and the terrifying barrel of a semi-automatic weapon. There’s no security guard near the entrance, but you don’t have enough time to wonder where he might be, because Hank’s already crossed the threshold and he’s shouting like mad when you realize what the hell is going on.  

"Everybody sit the fuck down on the ground or I'll kill every last of one you!" 

Screams erupt from every corner, and as Hank angrily waves the gun around in an attempt to scare the customers and bank personnel, people left and right begin to duck behind chairs, desks and in booths. You can hear a baby crying somewhere nearby, and your palms are sweating and shaky when you curl them into fists. You’ve always known he’s crazy, but even for him, this is fucking insane.

"Hank, what the fuck are you doing?" You scream, feeling the pressure of his grip on your neck sting like a hot iron.

"Shut up, before I shut you up myself. Don't make a god damn sound, you hear me? That goes for all of you!" 

The next hour is a complete blur. Shots are fired into cream-colored walls, demands are made on stolen cellphones and most of all, you and everybody else inside is scared shitless. Hank forces you to sit in of the empty chair behind counter three, the one where people come to apply for loans. He continues to keep the gun pointed mostly at you - the hostage he uses to negotiate his demands. You called Peter when his back was turned to you, but couldn’t speak at first out of pure terror of being seen or heard. 

Outside, flashing red and blue lights draw near, and the sound of multiple helicopters rounding the perimeter nearly drowns out the sound of Hank’s screeching voice when one of the clerks makes an unexpected move. You’ve never seen him this angry and doubt you’ll ever see it again. Practically all bank transfers are conducted digitally nowadays, most banks using shares on the stock market to finance their customer’s savings accounts. Sure, there’s physical money inside, but none of the desk clerks have access to the vault where they keep the big bucks. How Hank didn’t realize this is a mystery to you. 

You’re starting to realize time is running out when SWAT arrives with a hostage negotiator. Peter can feel his heart nearly exploding inside his chest when he thinks of you as he slings his way across the city. He’s never run faster across rooftops, but he doesn’t take a moment to breathe until he makes it there. 

It doesn’t take him very long to sneak inside through one of the top floor’s open windows. Peter ignores the news camera’ that zoom in on him while he climbs inside, swallowing thickly at the knowledge that Tony’ll probably be pissed off later. 

He jumps down the staircase, swinging from left to right and balancing on the barricades until he reaches the first floor of the old building. Directly beneath him, he can hear the commotion and when he finally finds an air vent in one of the break rooms, he uses his webs to fling himself up and inside. His phone vibrates again when he’s slowly crawling his way through the dusty vents, but he doesn’t answer, because he can see you sitting in your chair shaking like a leaf when he finally reaches one of the vents that lead to the main entrance. 

He notices your step-father walking anxiously in circles, his eyes wildly darting across the entire ground floor to make sure nobody tried to take him down. He needs money now that his source of income has died and the amount of debt he finds himself in leads him to believe this is the only way to do it. 

Peter quickly and quietly unscrews the roster that allows fresh air to distribute throughout the ground floor and silently moves it to the side. 

Look up. 

He quickly texts you, but doesn’t realize your phone might make a sound until he’s already pressed send. He releases a deep breath when you check the message, and begin to search around the ceiling with a worried frown on your face until your finally eyes land on him halfway hidden in the darkness. 

You sigh inaudibly but tremble when the gun goes off three times and Hank begins to shout at a mother and her crying baby. 

“I'm going to get you out," Peter mouths at you after pushing up his mask you you can see his lips. 

He has to get the gun away from Hank, who is now pacing back and forth on the other side of the wall. With one swift motion, Peter drops down from the vent with his finger pushed against his mask to let the people know to keep quiet. He slides behind your chair and gives your hand a tight squeeze before disappearing just in time to see the barrel of the gun followed by Hank. 

Sweat drips down the man’s face and back, veins popping angrily in his neck protruding from his temples. Outside, the hostage negotiator uses a megaphone to shout at him, but it’s as if nobody is paying attention to what he’s saying. You only have eyes for Peter, who’s crouched under one of the desks, his arms stretched out in front of him so he can get a good angle on Hank. 

Before you get a chance to do as much as blink, silvery webs shoot out from Peter's wrists. They latch onto the cold metal of the firearm and begin to quickly retreat, pulling the weapon out of Hank's sweaty palms. He accidentally pulls the trigger when he struggles to hold on to the only thing that’s currently keeping him alive, firing four shots into the wall before the gun clashes to the ground and drags away from him.

His eyes bulge out of his head when he sees Spider Man, now standing on top of the desk. Peter yanks his arms back, flinging the weapon towards the security guard, who was sitting near the water cooler next to the staff room. The man doesn’t hesitate to pick it up and disarm it, emptying the magazine onto the ground until every last bullet falls to the ground with a clang. They bounce across the floor and roll under desks and at people's feet, away from the man who threatened to kill with them. 

Within minutes, the entire place is surrounded by SWAT and cops, their guns aimed at the man who was willing to kill innocent people for his own benefit. 

You can hardly get up from your chair when you feel something warm and smooth pressed up against your body. You instantly feel your knees buckling under you, but Peter uses his strength to keep you from falling. Reporters outside try their hardest to catch a glimpse of what’s going on inside the bank, but police officers hold them back as best they can, cutting off their view with all their might while the two of you hug. 

Your entire body trembles and your heart feels like it was going to explode as you shivered in Peter's arms, holding onto the boy for what felt like dear life. 

"Shh," he whispers in your ear, "It's okay. I got you."

You try to speak, to thank him for coming as quickly as he did, but nothing comes out except throaty stutters and shaky breaths. You’re hurting, even a blind man can see it.

“You came,” you manage, “he just lost it.” 

“Of course I did silly,” he replies, “I couldn’t let you get hurt, could I?”

People all around you gasp audibly when Peter pulls off his mask, synapses doing jumping jacks when you come face to face with him in public. He’s never taken off the mask in front of people before, especially not in front of reporters, and out of all of the Avengers, his identity is the only one that up until now remained a secret. Peter isn’t thinking about what Tony might say or what Steve might think. He’s not concerned with the gaping expressions of journalists and cops alike, or with the newspapers that will have his face plastered on the front page tomorrow. He doesn’t care because grown attached to you. 

The feeling had crept up on him slowly, and he hadn’t realized it until now, when the possibility of losing you for the second time in such a short amount of time finally managed to get it through his head.

“What are you doing?” You ask, eyes wide and pupils blown out. 

“I want you to see me,” he says, “not the mask.”

“But-” you stammer, “your identity. They’ll know. Everyone will know.” 

“I don’t care anymore,” Peter uses his thumb to caress your cheek, “let ‘em know that spider man’s just a kid from Queens. I’m sick of hiding.”

The small smile that plays on your rosy lips makes his heart skip a beat. He’s in love with you, has been for a while now, and Peter’s pretty sure the adrenaline surging in his veins is the reason for the sudden realization. He opens his mouth to speak and the words dangle on the tip of his tongue, but he remains silent when a police officer drapes a blanket over your shoulders and asks you if you require medical attention.

He’ll tell you, he reckons. When the time is right.